February 18th, 1939, 6:43PM
American Apartments, 4th floor, room 113
1448 George Abrahms St, Minneapolis, Minnesota
We were going to be late. And if there is one thing I can not fucking stand, it.. was.. TARDINESS. My girlfeind was just now getting dressed after a long shower and is now rushing to get her clothes on. She would not have been rushing if she hadn't taken a half-hour long shower, another twenty minutes with her long golden hair, and approximatly (checking my pocket watch) twenty more minutes to get her clothes choosen. She knew I detested tardiness and was trying to get ready so we could go. I can tell she was becoming irritated with my constant pestering and urging.
"Are you ready YET?" I asked.. for the eighth time.
"I'm ready when I'm fucking ready." she said, the anger in her voice steadily rising each time she answers. "Just don't rush me too much."
"Well I wouldn't be rushing you if the thing we're heading to wasn't so damn important. We have ", checking my watch again, "sixteen minutes to get there. I dont intend on being late."
"Hang on I'm getting my boots on." "Finally. Now we can start going." I said in relief. "What?" she asked "Didn't you like the last few hours we had in bed?" I was startled from that question. "I'm not complaining about THAT Vik. I'm complaining about you taking so damn long to get ready. The fuck made you think I was complaining about that?" "I don't know. You had ended it so we would head to some silly meeting."
That was uncalled for. This 'meeting' was with some very distinguished gentlemen of my 'organisation'. Why does Viktoria always insult my business? That's her name, Viktoria, Viktoria van der Schmeisser. Weird way of spelling it, but her parent are from Germany and they wanted her to remember that, even though it has been a shithole since that one guy, Adolf or Rudolf or some shit, got blown up last year by a suicide bomber. Anyway, she has long curly auburn hair, emerald green eyes and a body like the greek goddess Venus.
She came out fully dressed, she's helping with this 'meeting'. She had a long, red silk dress with slits down the sides allong her legs, fish net stockings, tanker boots, a black leather corset, aviator goggles, a glove of leather on one hand and a finger-less felt glove on the other, a chocker necklace and a lether belt with metal studs. She was absoleutely stuning, and we are set to go.
My irritation rose several notches when we saw the elevator out of order. Had too take the stairs to the ground level and walk around the building to the parked car building and walk up too the 3rd floor. Once in the car the rest of the journey to the night club will be a cinch. As long as I dont get any more irritated. The car we have is a very nice, new, black Phantom Corsair. We get in, I start the engine, and off we go.
The journy isn't very long, but we needed too get there fast or we would be late. We see the new Minneapolis in silence, the buildings, the cars, the roads, and the.. secret police. Suprising that this new skyline has only just recently been finished. This city is nice and peaceful, and very 'dry'. Once we've arrived a chaufer came by and took the car to the parking area. This place is cool for that 'cause when you get it back it's cleaned, waxed and has a full tank of gas.
We enter the builing but pass the ballroom and bar, the meeting place were going too is slightly different from all the ones the other mob bosses use. We head too the back stairwell and go down several floors too the nightclub. Getting closer too it, the music becomes more clear. Hardcore Techtronica. People need an outlet for their pent up anger and hatred and some began too make new intruments like keyboards, electric drums and synthesisers. Entering we see dancing, black clothes, leather, dredlocks, silver spikes and studs and very provocative and stuning clothes. This dancing, Industrial Dance, devoloped from the Charleston as faster, more in tune and eratic for the new music. This all came about with the increased enforcement of prohibition.
We worked our way too the back and found our meeting spot. It was the man in charge of the Chicago gang, Jackie Martanthony. Flanking him were two of his best bodyguards, this meeting is very important . It pertains too the next shipment from here too Chicago. He looked up from his papers and smiled once he saw me. "Lucca my freind, you've arrived. Now we can start the duscussion at hand."
That was my nickname, "Looney Lucca", 'cause I was part Italian and act random and, as I put it, eccentric. But i'm mostly German-Scandinavian (German, Austrian, Faroese, Icelandic and Danish). My real name is Tróndur Amadeus Jahnsen, but most call me Amadeus. I've got long, brown, unkempt hair, brown eyes, skiney as a rail and 18 years old. I'm wearing the usual outfit: butternut dress shirt, black leather vest, black dress pants, bowler hat, black leather combat boots, black leather belt w/ metal studs, black leather gloves and aviator goggles.
Right now i'm armed with two electro-plasma pistols in side holsters under my vest, two mini-bolters (pistols with case-less rifle rounds) in waist holsters and twin-single shot pistols (My spare rods) strapped too my legs. They will come in handy if the meeting situation gets real fucked. I also have two daggers under my sleeves, just in case. Viktoria has four revolver pistols in side holsters, two smaller walther PPK pistol's in holsters strapped to her thighs, two daggars in sheath's in her boots and a thin, short blade in a place i'd rather not mention.
The music helps too calm me. I'm still irritated for being late.