(No worries, take all the time you need! I was planning on incorporating a time skip soon so that we can jump right to the meeting, so if you're struggling with a part of this roleplay in particular, just let me know and we can skip through it!)
(Yeah we can do that if you don’t mind. Again I’m really sorry.)
(Again, no worries! I always find transitions awkward, honestly. I'll set the time skip up soon!)
(Ok thanks. I’m sorry again I’m having a lot of personal troubles rn so I may take a while)
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Time Skip
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Rusty metal creaked quietly under the sudden weight of Mikhail as he leaped otherwise silently between buildings. His fingertips wrapped around the cool, flaky metal of the ladder opposite of where he'd jumped while the soles of his sneakers touched lightly down on a rung below him.
'No sign of followers,' he noted with relief. A droplet of sweat slipped down his jaw, and he swiped it away with the back of his hand irritably. There was no time to sit around and wait.
He pulled himself up onto the next platform and retreated further into the shadows as he retrieved a crumbled-up piece of paper from his pocket. The ink was smudged and normally would've been impossible to read in the darkness of the night, but Mikhail's sharp eyes had no trouble deciphering the writing he'd already read a hundred times before.
'Two weeks… Who could've guessed so much would change?' he asked himself bitterly.
He stuffed the paper back into his pocket and continued moving, refusing to leave the safety of height until he ran out of fire escapes. When he was completely certain that no one was around to witness, he dropped silently to the ground in a crouch and began to run. His destination was only four blocks away—the wharf on the east side of the city.
It took him less than five minutes to arrive. He stepped out of the shadows cast by abandoned shipping containers, his gray hair turning silver as the full moon bathed him in its light. He felt his blood rush temptingly at its presence, but he ignored it. After all, he had more pressing matters at hand.
Stuffing his hands in his hoodie pocket, he ventured further into the empty space of the wharf and scanned the area for Mr. Ortiz or his followers. All he could smell was the salty tang of the sea and the gentle lapping of the waves drowned out any sounds of people, but Mikhail knew instinctively that he was being watched. It made the hair on the back of his neck prickle, but that, too, he ignored.
"Come on," he whispered to himself, the words accompanied by a puff of breath that drifted away on the cold wind.
(I understand; I really do. I'm struggling a lot with something personal, too, and it's got me in this weird dynamic of seeking out writing as an escape, while also feeling really demotivated in general. I'm in no hurry, so really, take whatever time you need, and don't feel pressured to respond quickly!)
After only a minute or two, Ortiz walks out of the shadows. His eyes seemed to glow in the dim light. “Hello…pleasure to see you again, Mikhail.” His voice echoed through the seemingly open space. “Have you made your decision? I would be very pleased if you considered my offer.”
A few men walk out from the shadows. Ortiz’s bodyguards. Of course, he would definitely need extra protection if he was out in the open like this.
(Sorry it’s short)
(I understand; I really do. I'm struggling a lot with something personal, too, and it's got me in this weird dynamic of seeking out writing as an escape, while also feeling really demotivated in general. I'm in no hurry, so really, take whatever time you need, and don't feel pressured to respond quickly!)
(Thanks fam. I appreciate it. I hope everything goes well for you. Feel free to pm me and rant or just talk.)
Mikhail's eyes narrowed at the movement, but he relaxed at the expected presence. Dipping his head in greeting, he stepped forward to meet the crime lord at a respectable distance.
"Likewise, Mr. Ortiz," he replied, paying no mind to the man's accompaniment. He appreciated the straightforward manner in which he approached the topic, uncertain he'd have the patience for exchanging pleasantries this particular night. "I've made my choice." His tone was calm, but his muscles rippled slightly with the nervous energy coursing through him.
"I'd like to take your offer," he continued, but he hesitated after the words. "Although, there's something you should know, first. About that night two weeks ago." He sucked in a breath, uncertainty making the words hard to find. He couldn't back out now, though, so with trepidation, he pushed forward.
"Astros is not safe for you or your son. I should've known something was off when it took the police so long to arrive…" he trailed off, huffing in frustration at his past self. "They never called because they never intended for your son to be cared for. They knew exactly who he is. The management there—they have something to do with the insignia on that knife. It was branded on the shoulder of one of my managers. I… I saw it while I was looking for my coworker—the one who helped me with that thug," he spat, anger bleeding into his voice at that, "—in the locker room, but instead I found Antonio." He didn't mention what Antonio had tried to do when he saw him staring at the brand.
Another breath. "I think the attacker from that night was acting on his own. It's why no one came to his defense—it wasn't worth outing themselves to save a grunt who doesn't listen to orders. Especially when he was risking them all by attacking your son."
His eyes flitted up to meet the crime lord's again. "It wasn't the first time Carlos has been to Astros. They've been keeping an eye on him, which is why he can't return," he added urgently. "I don't know how many of the staff are a part of this, but the centerpiece of the club—the ceiling, I mean, depicts a constellation that acts as the skeleton for this insignia."
Now that the words were out, he seemed to calm some. "I can protect your son, but I need somewhere to stay in the meantime. As my previous employers, Astros has records of my address, and they aren't too pleased with me after realizing I know about them."
(Thank you for the offer! It really means a lot to me. You are just as welcome to reach out to me if you ever feel the need for a listening ear! I would be happy to help.)
(^^)
Ortiz paused for a moment after listening. At first, he seemed pleased that Mikhail was working for him, but then, his expression shifted to anger. “Carlos went to ASTROS?!” his voice boomed throughout the building. He took a long moment to calm himself, then takes a deep breath. “Underage drinking.” He mutters. Mostly to himself.
After another moment, Ortiz looks Mikhail in the eyes. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll…make sure to handle that place.” He smiles. “And thank you for letting me know my son lied.” He mumbles. “He wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place.”
(Hey I just wanna let you know that i leave on the 22nd. I’m sending this to everyone i rp with and know. I may POSSIBLY be back on may 30th but we’ll see. I’ll miss you all and I’ll try to be back next school year <3)
(Thank you for letting me know!! I'll be looking forward to your return, whether that be later this month or the start of the next school year <3)
(^^)
Mikhail looked away with an uncomfortable expression at the sudden loudness of the crime lord's voice. He shook his head to clear the slight ringing in his ears, but stilled at the man's thanks. A curious light entered his eyes, and his head tilted ever so slightly to the left.
"Of course. You are my boss now… Right?" There was something almost cheeky in the way he said it, although it retained the respectfulness from his earlier tone. "And about the living arrangements… " he trailed off hopefully.
Ortiz smiles warmly, “You can chose to stay here if ya want…it’s safer. But if you prefer to stay somewhere else, theres a nice apartment complex right by here. And yes, I am your boss.” He holds out his hand, “Welcome to the family.”
He chuckles softly, “I’ll let you get to work today if you want. You can try to drill into my sons head that he has no choice in this matter.” He scoffs.
Relief flooded through him, and Mikhail's smile curved in a more genuine manner. He dipped his head again in gratefulness, voicing his, "thank you," out loud as he reached to shake Mr. Ortiz's hand. As his own long fingers clasped the crime lord's calloused palm, he was almost surprised to note that the man's hand, despite all the blood that must be on them, felt like any other hand he'd ever shaken. A bit of perspective, he mused to himself.
Raising his head again, he said, with a bit of mirth, "I'm happy to start now. Something tells me I may need the extra time to convince him of that fact."
(We can do another timeskip to Mikhail meeting Carlos again if you'd like! I think I'll let you lead the way with that one, unless you'd like me to!)
(At least now im not bored- ;-;)
(Also yes i will! also can i ask if you’ll be on for a while?)
(I'm glad to hear it!! And I'll probably be skimming the site for the next hour or so. I can't guarantee my responses will be super quick, but I'll try!)
(Unless you're talking about a broader timeframe, in which case I might be on a bit tomorrow, but I work a long shift both then and Saturday. I'll be on Sunday, though!!)
Carlos had tried to lock himself in his room, but as always, ended up with the lock taken off. “For my own safety. Please!” He grumbles as he flops onto his bed.
He always knew his father loved him, but he also hated how overprotective he was. He shouldn’t be treated like a child! Even if he did sometimes act childish…but that was besides the point! Carlos sighs a heavy sigh and looks up at his star covered ceiling. He had always loved stars…that’s why he loved Astros so much. He wanted to remake that beautiful art piece in his own room. He had lights and everything.
Suddenly, he hears footsteps from out his door and bolts upright. Who was that? He blinks and stares at the door, silent.
(Oh yeah- I leave tomorrow for summer. But I have summer school so I may be back on the 30th. But I’m not sure though)
Mikhail rapped his knuckles softly against the wooden door, waiting for a moment for a response. When none came, he rolled his eyes in amusement and let out an exaggerated puff. "I have a delivery for…" he paused for dramatic effect. "…Carlos Ortiz. New bodyguard? I'll need you to sign."
He could tell from the state of the doorknob that there was no lock, but Mikhail wasn't too keen on invading Carlos' personal space so harshly right from the get-go—especially since his father had suggested the boy wasn't too thrilled about this arrangement just yet. It was better to have a more organic, official first meeting.