In For A Penny (Open 1940s Gangsters)

[TheWhovian]

In For A Penny (Open 1930s Gangsters)

Nick sat in his booth, looking out over his speakeasy. The joint was really jumping tonight. The colored singer on stage was really wailing and the big band backing her up sounded like a million bucks. Her name was Rose, and she certainly was a pretty as a flower, with her ruby red lips, shiny black hair and form fitting green dress. She had curves in all the right places, and he had explored those curves personally, more than once. As she sang a torch song, she was looking at him. He raised his glass of wine to her.

Nicholas Giovanni was a fine figure of a man, with broad shoulders and muscular forearms. He was wearing a well tailored gray suit with a broad black tie. His black fedora sat next to him on the booth bench, leaving his slicked back black hair uncovered. On his fingers were golden rings and in his mouth was a coffin nail, burnt halfway down.

A tall, muscular ape sat beside him, watching the floor with a stone face. His nose had been broken more than once, and he had calla-flower ears. He was stuffed into a black suit which struggled to contain his rounded shoulders and massive biceps. He looked like the former boxer that he was.

Around the edges of the speakeasy were booths and tables, at one end was a stage for the band and the singers and in the center was a small dance floor and a few tables features games of chance. All in all, it was a sweet operation.

Recently the O'Brien Family had been trying to muscle in on his territory, trying to take over his prostitutes and highjack his shipments of hooch. They had even robbed a few of his back alley craps games. Nicholas was set to meet in just a few minutes with his most trusted men. It seemed a war was inevitable, if they could not negotiate some sort of peace. War was bad for business, but it was necessary not to be seen as weak.

OOC: I GOT THE TITLE WRONG: This is a prohibition era game set in the early 1930s.

 

[TheWhovian]

Samuel tickled his fingers across the ivories, as he gazed up at Rose singing. Her every movement moved his heart, but she only had eyes for the big man in the corner both. He pounded the keys a bit harder in frustration, without losing the melody. She noticed. For a moment Rose was looking at him, and not with a look of kindness.

Samuel was a skinny white kid of only eighteen, who played with the band almost every night. He had long pianist's finger, short buzzed brown hair and thick spectacles. His worn shirt, vest and pants had been patched expertly and he did not look to badly dressed, but the Lord only knew that he had only two such suits to his name.

He was the son of a tailor and had patched his clothing himself, late into the night, working by the flickering lights of the motel room he called home. He had little prospects, beyond his abilities with the keyboard and little education to boot. Still, he could keep a beat and read sheet music.

An unlite cigarette rested behind one of his ears, waiting. He found that smoking while he played distracted him. The fact was, the gently sway of Rose's green clad hips and dark, shapely legs were an even bigger distraction. He didn't even watch the band leader, but simply watched her.

He had been staring at her hips when she glared at him, and he met her eyes with an apologetic shrug, before getting back on task.