Vermilion Gang (Tres x Poppy)

[Poppy]

Bay City was rife with crime, and there wasn’t much that could be done about it. For generations, there had been warring mob bosses and syndicates. Each one vied for control of the city, and all of the spoils that came with it. Countless politicians and police officers were corrupted and paid off, pledging allegiance to one gang or another. It had gotten so bad that the police actually advised the citizens to not leave their houses after dark. When night fell, the town belonged to the gangs. And there was nothing they could do to attempt to change things. They lacked the manpower, along with the desire, thanks to the cash lining their pockets.

The Vermilion gang was one of the city’s oldest and most feared. The boss had control of this gang ever since he was in his teens. The Head of the Vermilion Gang ruled Bay City with an iron fist, the other gangs even respecting him. He made sure everyone had an area that they were allowed to manage, and that the gang’s main money makers didn’t interfere with others. The gang focused on kidnapping and ransom, followed up by sex trafficking. Some gangs specializes in drugs, prostitution or sex slave trafficking. There were even more illicit activities, like chop shops for stolen vehicles, forging documents or even managing fights.

The Boss of Vermilion only had one surviving family member, having lost the others due to their lack of loyalty or from an attempted massacre of his kin at his sister’s wedding. He was one of the few that was able to make it out alive. He never married, instead spending his time with the various whores and escorts that his gang protected and employed. One ended up becoming pregnant, and it was decided that she would give him the baby after it was born. The woman was set up handsomely in order for doing so, given a bar to run and protection.

Vivian Vermilion ended up being her father’s pride and joy. There was nothing that wouldn’t be done in order to please her or protect her. She had three personal bodyguards on her at all times, even having a gps and monitor implant to ensure her safety. His daughter was prepared from birth in order to assume leadership duties one day. Unfortunately, she wasn't the typical demure and polite girl. She had plenty of brushes with the law, gladly engaging in the killing and torture that her gang was known for. Her beauty was renowned in the city, with her long straight blonde hair and piercing dark blue eyes.

On this particular night, Vivian had been summoned to her father’s office. She had been in her rooms in the very same mansion getting ready to go out to a club that night. But, it was only a brief walk to her father’s study. The mansion was multi-level, much too big for just two people. But, when one took into consideration the amount of staff and gang members that had to reside there as security guards from time to time, it made much more sense.

The manner in which she dressed certainly didn’t make her seem like a future leader of the Vermilion gang. The blonde girl had an eyebrow piercing, naval piercing and even more that couldn’t be seen thanks to her clothes. Not to mention a copious amount of tattoos across her toned body. She wore a ragged pair of daisy duke jeans, with a garter belt and ripped thigh high stockings. The only thing that covered her chest was a tattered designer t-shirt. It was just enough to cover her nipples, showcasing her cleavage and even some under boob.

For as distressed as her clothing looked, her accessories more than made up for it. She tended to gather jewelry from the various kills that her gang made, members bringing it to her as if it were offerings. Vivian preferred gold, decked out in plenty of items that showed her gang’s loyalty. Many of the men in the group would die for her, and she knew it. Vivian demanded no less than absolute obedience from her associates. When she said jump, they said how high. To finish off her outfit, she wore a large fur coat. No matter the weather, she would still walk around in the expensive coat. It helped her cut an intimidating figure, and she was thankful for it.

Her designer heels clicked on the marble flooring as she arrived at the intricate mahogany door to her father’s office. Vivian wasn’t too concerned about what her father would want her for, as she tended to be in and out of his office. She knocked once at the door, not bothering to wait on a response to enter. Anyone else would have to be allowed in by his guards, after announcing who they were. She stepped through the heavy door, a smile on her face as she looked for her father behind his desk.

 

[Tres]

An office, lit by a single light dimmed the living room sized room, having the space of almost three kitchens with all its appliance. The room not being meant for such didn’t keep such, but expressed itself lacklusterly. Articus’ bulletproof windows were blinded with thick, concrete curtains. The piercing rays of sunlight didn’t reach his room; the room blocked of the overarching, blotched sun. It was exactly that, a room without the sun and of its own world. A folsom prison with a folsom wolf-- yet the wolf stood for its instinct, blinded by its desires, and today’s wolf sought the scent of the strange. Arcticus Vermilion recurring thoughts were unable to be shaken off, unable to be free of them. The battle that couldn’t be won was the battle of himself and his preying thoughts, urges. Leaders and conquers wanted territory, though he despite having it he was no leader; Arcticus was a master, of his time, and of his beloved.

He had a gnarled desk of some wood indistinguishable from the heavy black stain that dyed it an abyssal, ebony black. The lackluster rooms untidiness was by its boxes occasionally top of crates that were filled with money, coin rollers, presumably what was inside the crates? Perhaps guns? The room had two men inside, each rattling to the other, however both were stitched with complacency. A true fate they were inherited, showing their complacency on their hardened faces, and equally twisted faces.

The exquisite marble flooring went well with artful pictures hanging on both sides the wall, one of his daughter, being drawn to the finest degree. Arcticus’ second picture was himself on opposite side of the wall. They were both symmetrical to one another, otherwise white, plain, placid walls darkened due to a shorting on light.

Arcticus greenish, blue eyes were drowned with signs of lack of sleep under his eyes, which stared at his daughter’s picture; only when she entered did his eyes turn, turning on her. He’d run his upper mantle of teeth lightly and slightly while personally admiring his daughter’s clothing, clearing his before hoarse throat.

“What do you scheme now? Did you plan on leaving for the city? You know it’s dangerous, especially at night.” He affirms, the two men resting nearby at a crate positioned close to his desk, whom pressed their eyes close to Vivian as they wanted to press their very bodies if given chance.

“Keep your eyes off her.” Arcticus’ wary eyes turn, the usual uncaring persona gaining passion in his tone… aggression.

One of the men, tallest of the piped up. “You know what she is, why does it matter?”

Arcticus' features lit up, giving the two now a steely gaze. “She’s my daughter.”

 

[Poppy]

“Daddy, I’m not scheming anything.” Vivian’s sultry voice was drenched in saccharine, doing her best to lull her father into a false sense of security. She approached his desk with her hips swaying, an invitation for the two guards to look. The blonde girl sat in one of the chairs across her father’s desk, falling into in a rather distinguished manner. Her legs draped over one arm and her back rested against the inside of the other arm. Somehow, she made the uncomfortable position look entirely too inviting.

“I’m just going to this killer party.” She smiled in her wolfish manner, not telling the entire truth. It was a party hosted on the outskirts of Bay City, by the biggest rivals of the Vermilion gang. The Azuls were known for hosting some of the most insane, depraved and drug-fueled parties. While she certainly wanted to partake, she also had a gun holster hidden under the fur coat, concealing two pistols with mother of pearl inlaid handles. They had been 18th birthday presents from the man before her.

And then there was the 9 inch long serrated golden blade in a hidden sheath at her back, just in case things went sideways. The brass knuckles that were formed onto the mother of pearl handle had helped her out in a pinch many times. That had been her 16th birthday present. “It’s just on the outskirts of the city, Daddy. Not too far, and I promise I’ll take my bodyguards with me. So you don’t have to worry about a thing.” She winked, her glossy lips forming a smile.

“As if I’d let you put your hands on me.” Vivian shot back to the guard who had rudely spoken up in regards to her behavior. She certainly was a bit of a whore, but she had never tried to keep it hidden. But, if he was going to be so disrespectful, she could straighten him out. “Look at me and I’ll cut your fucking throat.” After all, the assembled men were completely disposable.

 

[Tres]

Arcticus messy, unkempt hair seemed unwashed and waxy; a dense black color, which his left hand dramatically streams through. He'd echo a laugh, one dry, a similar trait arising in his voice. "You always are planning. It's who you are, what you do." He display the grin of the father wolf, and all its tricks. He lowers his leveled, flatter chin, allowing his colorful greenish eyes to behest the attention his daughter's figure demanded. A pair of dimples showed in his grin, defining his plumper cheeks that seemed chiseled with a permanent grimace. "You model well, if only you had the cameras backing you up currently, perhaps they'd see all that I see... daughter." His monotone, natural voice broke, aching her on with his tone that seemed to get sweeter for her.

He'd wheel up his thick brows. "A party. You know you can find some of the highest grade alcohol here, within these walls." The older dad adopted the spirit of a boar-- body uneven, but not quite fat, rather slipping away from a peak body and slowly descending from his own drinking habits. "How can I trust your guards when I barely trust dumb and dumber at our sides? Ed and Eddy." He drawls, droning in a heft of his hair growth filled hand. "You'd not be able to trust these men with your dog." Arcticus moved out of his staunch, intricately wooden chair not quite like the basic one to support him; unlike the table it'd be original oak, holding the unique color of the oak wood.

He tread, arched around his table to move towards his daughter in fine oiled leather slippers meant for his feet-- quite literally, being of custom design. Arcticus headed for the back of her chair to put his digits in a grip that'd wrench with low-pressure on her shoulders, but enough to clearly take a hold of them. "The outskirts? That's not within the inner walls. That's the farthest from help, the most vulnerable."

The head of his bobbed, nodding many times at a weak motion. "It'd not be difficult for someone to poison your bodyguards drinks, shoot them, or just shoot them and try taking the daughter of Arcticus." The left hand took away from her shoulder to move into the blonde locks, seemingly unconvinced from her wink. "Remember your my fun, daughter, and don't let your trauma let you forget your place in my life."

A chuckle sounds from him again. "Don't pay any attention to them, if you threaten him I'll have him spend 20 dollars for you on your knees. They're my bodyguards, what are you?" Daddy's hand threading gently in Vermilion's hair go to pull on it like strings, enough to create tension.

 

[Poppy]

Arcticus wasn’t wrong there. She wanted to go to the house party for another, more sinister reason. Vivian wanted to see what it would take in order for the rival gang to put an end to her father’s reign of the Vermilion gang. She felt as if it were her time to shine, and take her rightful place as his heir. The blonde woman was smarter than to kill her father outright, by her own hand. And, she did care for him. He was her father and only caregiver, after all. But, she felt that the Vermilion gang needed to take a new direction. And the best way would be under her leadership.

“I don’t want to get drunk, father. I’m looking for….more chemical highs.” Vivian thought that being mostly honest was for the best. “You know...heroin...cocaine…” She sighed deeply as he made a good point about the quality of her guards, buxom chest heaving as she did so. Her eyes scanned about the room. It could really do with a woman’s touch, in more ways than one.

“Daddy, I know what I’m doing.” Vivian did her best to keep her cool as her father’s hands rested heavy on her shoulders. “I’m 21 now, and old enough for you to trust me.” She made a fake pouting face in response.

She made a face as he threatened to prostitute her mouth for only twenty bucks. Two could play that game. “Just twenty for my mouth, dad? I let a police officer fuck me in my ass just to get out of a speeding ticket.” Her lips curled back into her sardonic smile, somewhat of a trademark for her.

Vivian felt her father's fingers trail through her long hair, turning her head to look to him better. "Me? I'm Daddy's Princess." She blew him a kiss.

 

[Tres]

The mixed gaze of him, constantly cycling, but never striking twice in the same place set on the modern guardsmen. He took a drifted, settled look on them upon hearing of chemical highs, such as cocaine. "Make no mistake, they deal with their guilt for ruthless murderer by such an angel's gem, they call it. The crystal of savior; the crystal to ease the pain." The old man riddled, despite in blotched plain white shirt looking like the delicate color was meant for ruin and stain. "You're not the only one in this world looking for the next lift." His hand gestures for the least tallest out of the two to then heed, hither over. "Please my daughter, but do not go weak on her." The rigorous dealer using the table to provide a very line of angel dust in front of her.

Arcticus' hand flows out her hair and so does his other hand undo itself from its screwed in place. "If age is built on trust you know to trust me, given I'm your father. Now, go ahead." He nods his in a dismissive manner at the guard who placed angel's dust on the oaken table. "I'll listen to your whore stories if you can tell them properly." He showed his daughter a bittersweet smile towards her staring at him. "Indulge like a princess is meant to."

 

[Poppy]

Vivian remained seated as the dealer that her father directed to approach the table laid out a line for her, biting her lower lip. She hated her her father controlled her intake of drugs. But after all, it was for the best. How else did her mother initially get put into a position of being a prostitute? The woman had become addicted to drugs, so it ran in her blood. She waited patiently for the dealer to finish, a roguish smile on her face as her father told her to save the whore stories for the time being.

“Well...don’t mind if I do.” Vivian shrugged, twisting her body to sit right in the chair so she could lean down to the expensive table to snort the line. If it would have been anyone else, she would have taken some to rub against her gums, to test the purity. But, it came from a trusted source. She leaned forward, her silky strands of hair running through her father’s fingers. There was still some length left to her hair even then. Vivian snorted the line, from end to end, before licking the table with the widest and flattest part of her tongue.

She sat back in the chair, with a deep and satisfied sigh. “That is...so much better. Thanks, Daddy.”

 

[Tres]

The mere man stood above, but watched with powerful eyes, almost serpentine. He narrowed them without noticeably as they honed on her so called sniffling. At the time, the only thing reminding him of the mortal moment was the reminding sensation of Vivian's blonde strands coursing in his callused hands, letting the hair leave his hands. A sheer smirk, size of a canoe plastered over his face, watching her lick it to the last dropping. "How did you learn to please me without an ounce of training? You're better than what I ever could make of your mother."

He would smirk wider if he so could while she was closer, using the hands to worm around her neck and wrap with a vices grip. Arcticus keeps her in place, pressuring her to stay in the chair even if she didn't plan on leaving it. "Ed, you probably want to get payed."

Ed nods, further showing his respect with an honest answer. "I do, it's hard earned when us called "troopers" do the work, Arcticus."

The father nodded back, swiveling his head to look at his daughter, giving her enough room to breathe and speak. "How are you going to repay him? Don't expect it to be free, he's a friend, of course. It's loyalty that keeps an organization functioning."

 

[Poppy]

Vivian ignored the comment in regards to her mother. She had never met the woman, so the comment was able to roll off of her. All she was to the prostitute turned business woman was a way to get ahead in the world. Perhaps it had been her lack of maternal affection that made her the way she was. But she figured it had to be being around her father's business from a young age. She would sit at his knee, even when someone was brutalized for being a traitor to the gang.

The blonde beauty froze as she was choked by her father, eyes bulging. Even when he relinquished his grip somewhat, she still had to gasp to catch a breath of air before speaking. But, this sort of abuse was common place in the dynamic they had. "I don't know daddy...you told me to induge. I thought you had this treat." She certainly didn't want to touch the creep of a drug dealer with a ten foot pole.