KyleReevis
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jan 19, 2017
- Posts
- 190
"Sometimes, Heroes Wear A Cut"
(closed)
A Note For The Reader:
Although we use material from "Sons of Anarchy",
this role play is otherwise unconnected to the show.
It is a stand alone story.
(closed)
A Note For The Reader:
Although we use material from "Sons of Anarchy",
this role play is otherwise unconnected to the show.
It is a stand alone story.
(OOC: This role play takes place in an unstated time not fucked up by COVID.)
Alex and his father, Kurt, crossed the parking lot that separated the clubhouse from the repair shop, arriving to loud and raucous round of applause and an exchange of hand shakes accompanied by fist and chest bumps. The men took a break from working on everything from an old rusty 1966 Fairlane station wagon which was getting the 8th rebuilt engine of his long life to a brand new, gleaming, 2024 Chevrolet Tahoe PPV on which the crew was attaching the upgraded LED cop lights and new decals identifying it as being part of the City of Charming Police Department.
The mechanics varied in appearance as did any diverse cross section of society. They were white, brown, and black; old, young, and everywhere in between; tall and short, fat and thin, fit and in need of serious diet and exercise. They really only had one thing in common: they were all members of the Sons Of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Redwood Original, or SAMCRO. They were what others on the outside called Outlaw Bikers, and while they didn't flaunt that part of their life, they were indeed exactly what those others thought them to be.
The joy and accompanying noise taking place here and now, complete with cold bottles of brew coming out of the fridge in the corner and a bottle of Jack coming down off a top shelf, was being held to celebrate the promotion just minutes earlier of Alex to Vice President of the MC. It was only the most recent notice of Alex by the club's membership, though. The night before he had been given his Men of Mayhem patches, one of which he had already personally sewn onto his leather cut or vest and the other of which he'd put on his denim cut later when he had time.
The Mayhem patch was currently worn by only four members of the 22 member Charming MC. To earn it, the biker in question had to kill in the name of the Club, upon specific, direct orders that had been voted upon by the Officers and then passed on by the MC's President, who for the last decade had been Kurt, Alex's step-father. Alex had earned the patch by killing the Sergeant of Arms of a rival MC after members of that club killed the previous VP of the Charming based SAMCRO.
It had all been very brutal and not at all quick as the murder had been done with a bat at arms length nearness, not a handgun from a distance or even a rifle from farther way than that. It had been hard for Alex to do as he'd only twice before beaten a man, let alone taken one's life. Despite the aura that surrounded he and his kind, Alex didn't consider himself to be an outwardly violent man. But it had had to be done, and although the murder had actually been the job of the Charming club's Sergeant of Arms, Alex had volunteered to take on the responsibility. He was in line for the position of Club VP, and he knew that not only had no VP ever not worn the Men of Mayhem patch but that he would never be considered legitimate is he didn't earn his way into the position.
"Shut this shit down!" Kurt ordered, meaning the work taking place in the shop. "It's time to party!"
The shop was filled with the sounds of metal tools and replacement parts clanging upon concrete as the men seriously abandoned their work without hesitation. Two hours later, with the sun dropping behind the distant mountains, the Club House was filled with pounding music, dancing women, and flowing brew. Ol'Ladies and Sweeties, Broads or Sweetbutts all played their part in entertaining the men of SAMCRO and the other non-MC members who were they to celebrate Alex's achievement.
By midnight, Alex was spent. It had been a long day to begin with, and after getting his cock sucked dry not once, not twice, but three times, it was time for him to start thinking about calling it a night. His step-father caught sight of him donning his cut and ordered the Club's Sergeant at arms to see than he got home safely. Even though the killing three days earlier had been justified and legitimate equalizing retaliation, and even though those three days in between had been quiet on the gang front, Kurt was still concerned that the rival MC might take the fight one step further.
The Sergeant At Arms, Henry "Hank the Shank" Connor, didn't particularly want to end his own partying, but it was his duty to do anything and everything the Club's President ordered. So he grabbed hold of his new VP, and the two of them made their way to the parking lot with Henry intending to use the Club's van to get the intoxicated biker home. But as he was unlocking the vehicle and starting it, he looked up to the sound of a Harley motor firing up and in an instant Alex was screaming the bike for the gates. The armed guards there, Probational Club members who hadn't yet earned their membership patches, barely got the barrier open in time for Alex to go shooting through it.
Henry shot the van forward, honking at the gate guards to open the fence further, and heading the way Alex had, he eventually found the new Officer backing his bike to the curb in front of a Charming bar. It wasn't the type of place Henry expected Alex to patronize, popular with local folk who saw SAMCRO as just a bunch of leather bound thugs and 20-something, horny students from the University Extension campus just six miles outside of town.
By the time Henry got inside, Alex was already at the bar having a confrontation with the bartender.
"I said gimme a shot of Jack and a beer back," Alex was repeating.
To which the 30-something man behind the bar repeated, "You're intoxicated. Law says that I can refuse service to you if I want to."
The man looked Alex up and down, taking in the view of an outlaw biker, then said with a snide tone, "And I want to."
Alex leaned in and said, "Law also says that if I follow you home after your shift, beat the fuck out, rape your wife--"
He smiled and laughed as he in turn looked the other man up and down, continuing, "--or your husband and then burn your house down around you, that I should go to jail for the rest of my life."
"Are we having a bit of a problem here?" Henry asked politely.
Alex looked to his MC-mate, then back to the bartender. "But I won't go to jail because 50 bikers and 200 partiers back at the SAMCRO club house right now are going to say that I was in bed all night long getting my cock sucked by half a dozen women you could only hope to ever see naked."
There was a tense moment between them with only the booming music providing background before Henry finally told the bartender, "Why don't you just get him a drink, and I'll drive him home myself."
The bartender looked to Henry, chuckled, and pointed out the obvious, "You're intoxicated."
Both after the Sergeant at Arms pulled the left lapel of his cut open and revealed the semi-automatic pistol there, the both of them ended up with shots and beer chasers, with the bartender more politely telling them, "Just drink up and get out. Please."