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M.S.R.P. II • View topic - Club Propaganda (RSO)

M.S.R.P. II

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 Post subject: Club Propaganda (RSO)
PostPosted: Fri Feb 24, 2006 10:59 pm 
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7, Bolshoy Zlatoustinskiy pereulok


The newest, hippest, most exclusive club in Moscow. Playing almost every type of European music, this is the club for those who love to dance, drink, and communicate. A unique friendly atmosphere, you will meet interesting people and perfect music. No banditos, no drunk faces, no meat markets.

Be prepared to stay up until 6am, if you can hack it.

Smart casual, but face control* is paramount. Dress like you mean it. Russians don't put up with shoddy dressing.

$200 Entrance fee
Women, at least those who are admitted, are free.
Do not post just entering the club. This is a very exclusive club. If you are here for a meeting, inform the bouncers that you wish to see Andrey and wait.

[size=84]*“Face controlâ€


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PostPosted: Sun Feb 26, 2006 7:43 pm 
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Gerry was in Moscow, not for the first time, but certainly for the first time since he had left the arms trade business and gone free-lance. He looked around the street and saw the glittering sign of just what he was looking for, a club to spend the night. The line stetched out past the edge of the building, but Gerry, partially because of his personality, but mostly because he was pretty wasted already, elbowed his way past the first little pretty boy in line and started to walk past the bouncer. A hand grabbed his jacket, "Oi!" Came the voice behin the hand. The bouncer stepped in front of him and started to babble some shit in Russian.

"Fuck," Gerry said with as much dignity as he could manage looking down at the shorter man. "Off." He grabbed the offending hand and tore it away from his own shirt.


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PostPosted: Tue Feb 28, 2006 5:27 am 
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Because of the obvious lack of agility that the bouncer was showing off, Gerry seized his chance and viciously bitchslapped him, walking into the club with no further resistance. He was proud of himself... He didn't particularly know, why but he was. Maybe it was the beard... A lot of hard work went into the bad boy. Much grooming, combing, and plucking. It wasn't as easy as it looked. People just didn't realize... They didn't realize at all.

He stroked his chin-mane, whom he had named Wickedawesomeness Maximus, after it's thoroughbred grandsire, Reallyawesomeness Maximus II, as he moved towards the bar. He moved slowly, drawing many stares from the patrons of the club as he ran forward in slow motion, stiff-arming a waitress and knocking over three tables before reaching the bar itself.

After he took a seat and lit another cigarette, he looked at the overweight man serving drinks. "Barwench! Bring me ale!"

He had better hurry... Lest he be backhanded as well.


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PostPosted: Wed Mar 01, 2006 12:41 am 
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Kirill approached the club and stood in line. He had waited for about one minute when he saw a man with a beard so awesome that he couldn't help but stare at it. He watched as the man walked up to the bouncer and slap him in the face. He had never seen such a vicious bitch slap in his life. Kirill jumped on the opportunity and snuck into the club behind him.

Kirill sat himself down on the opposite end of the bar from the man and looked at the surroundings. He knew Andrey and he knew all that he was capable of. The club was absolutely magnificent and people could be seen all around having the time of their lifes.

The overweight waiter approached Kirill and asked him if he would like anything to drink. Kirill nodded and asked for some Wisniowka Liquor. Kirill was very experienced with alcoholic beverages and could be considered somewhat of a connoisseur. Without a doubt Wisniowka was his favourite. The man passed him his drink and Kirill thanked him in Russian. He sipped the beverage enjoying every sip. Nobody made alcohol like the Polish.


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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 2:15 am 
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This place... Was boring him. Gerry Scot Dwyre was no man to be bored! And so, without further ado, he sprinted outside... Will the patrons of the club ever see this mysterious stranger again? Is he leaving to return to his true love? Would he ever pay for his drink? These were all questions that many would never find the answer to, but many would die wondering.

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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 12:24 pm 
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 03, 2006 12:01 am 
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As the waiter hurried to supply the men with their drinks, there rose a small clamor in the crowd that awaited entry into the nightclub as men with unmistakable bulges of sidearms under their jackets spearheaded their way through the masses. In the midst of the slow but steadily moving entourage was Andrey Dzerzhinsky, the owner of this particular nightclub and, as rumor told, the godfather of the growing Red Storm Organizatsiya. Of course, contenders were quick to downplay the growing power of the RSO, but it was all a futile practice. Within a few minutes, all nine men were inside the club, almost all of them armed.
Moving across the crowded dance floor, Andrey was greeted by every schmuck who wanted a bit of cash, or a favor, or offered this or that. He politely but effectively excused himself from them, strategicly moving so one of his men ended up between himself and the intruder. He sometimes wondered how the security could allow such morons into his nightclub.
Finally, they reached the end of the journey: the staircase leading to the 2nd floor VIP area and balcony overlooking the entire area. Two of the men, the giant Klementi Vatuntin and Filip Krylov, stood at the base of the stairs to keep away the curious, foolish, or overly brazen from disrupting their boss.
Andrey settled into one of the more comfortable chairs, a waiter setting down a glass and expertly pouring a bottle of chilled Stolichnaya vodka. Andrey hoisted the glass to his mouth and downed it quickly, wanting to feel the effects sooner, not later. He set the empty glass back on the table a tad harshly, grunting as the liquor burned its way down into a fiery detonation in his abdomen. The waiter quickly filled the glass again.
Strabo, the fat Jewish Hungarian who was one of Andrey’s closest friends and advisors took his seat next to his boss on the left, leaning close to talk to Andrey over the noise.
“I noticed someone when we came in. I think he’s one of yours.â€


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PostPosted: Fri Mar 03, 2006 12:37 am 
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Kirill followed the man who had asked for him and seated himself at across the desk from Andrey. Andrey filled is glass and Kirill picked it up, quickly taking a sip of it. He placed the glass back down on the coaster and looked up at Andrey. "I'm doing quite well, my friend." Kirill said, then paused for a second. "I have plans to open a business soon. With proper management I hope it will become a success and help the family greatly. And How are you doing?" he asked.


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PostPosted: Fri Mar 03, 2006 11:13 pm 
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Upon the question presented to him, Andrey smiled and waved his hand, indicating the club they were in.
“You could say I’m doing well.â€


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PostPosted: Sat Mar 04, 2006 5:18 pm 
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As a large car drove up to the curb adjacent to the entrance, Yuri looked through the heavily tinted windows at the establishment. The place was... not Yuri's own cup of tea but from the buzzing of people at the entry door, being blocked off by two burly bouncers, he concluded this place had to be something.

Opening the car door, Yuri stepped out, donning warm clothes under a full leather jacket. Respectable appearance wasn't on his list of priorities.

His car drove off, to park around the corner, leaving Yuri alone in the night, standing in front of new club. Yuri, never the whippersnapper, walked all the way to the front of the line, getting mean glances he didn't return, and stood before a guard. Saying something low, the guard straightened up a bit and allowed Yuri entry.

Music and heat instantly overcame him, the noise deafening and the heat very well-felt. He had walked around a bit, figuring where he could sit in relative quiet.

Tired of searching, he asked the bartender where he could find the owner, and where he could find somewhere quiet. The bartender gave him an incredulous look, and Yuri flashed a huge bundle of cash, giving the man all he needed to know. Yuri was told the balcony level was VIP, and headed for the stairwell. Once again, he talked to another bouncer, who then left him to make his way to the VIP area.

The place was much better, much more quiet, and a grand times more opulant. Taking a seat in the corner, where he thought it would be most quiet, he leaned back in the plush chair and looked around, scanning.

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PostPosted: Sat Mar 04, 2006 8:19 pm 
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Location: Kidnapping Ruskie S.O.B's
[font=Times New Roman, serif]The car stopped, it's dirty contents rattlin' and rumblin' for the last time. Edd shook the discarded litter and dirt from his boot while retrieving a roll of cash from his jacket pocket. With a grimace ever present on his face he handed over some of his hard earned loot to the black-toothed greedy driver infront of him. On that note, he stepped out from the car with his briefcase in hand. He began to dust himself off, the dirt of the taxi clinging to his expensive clothes. Then calmly, Edd paced up to the two burly guards pillared either-side of the steel entryway to the club. "I'ma, here to see Mr.D, I can't say his godamn name properly." Edgar said, his deep Texan accent apparent in his voice. One of the bouncers replied to the comment with a nod, and proceeded to turn to an intercom placed on the wall behind him. Edd scanned the outside of the building, giggling somewhat at the disparity of the large group of nightclubbers penned in like animals by red ropes, all desperate to gain entry to this 'exclusive' club. The conversation escalted between the bouncer and the secret voice on the other of the digital device, Edgar watched and awaited the answer. [/font]


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PostPosted: Sat Mar 04, 2006 8:36 pm 
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"Yes, I was planning on doing some heists and will try to get them up as soon as possible." Kirill replied as he observed the gestures Andrey made. "I am going to be obtaining some much needed funds to start my business. It really has been a pleasure talking to you but I must be off." Kirill shook his hand and stood up. Before he turned around he said "Thank you for the offer, I am interested in that position. I'll keep in contact." He finished the last of his drink and walked out the door. He left the club and flagged down a taxi. The taxi sped off and he was headed for home.


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PostPosted: Tue Mar 07, 2006 5:46 pm 
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Location: Kidnapping Ruskie S.O.B's


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PostPosted: Tue Mar 07, 2006 10:26 pm 
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Location: Atlantic City
Nicodemo and Martin arrived at the sheek nightclub and parked in the back. Entering via the front door after a weapons check and greasing some palms they make thier way inside of the club. Walking over to one of the bartenders he orders a scotch on the rocks and takes a seat at a table. Looking across the hazy room.

"That's him, that's Andrey Dzerzhinsky the rumored boss of the Russian Mafiya here. That's who i'm here to meet.."

As the waitress came with his drink he takes out three thousand and places it on her tray.

"Send a bottle of Christal over to Mr. Dzerzhinsky and tell him that a Mr. Nico Mosca is here to speak with him on some important financial business."

Nicodemo waits to see if he takes the bait and walks over, this could mean a better financial future for both, heroin not big in the russian market, if Andrey came out with it, it could be big.....


OOC: 3000 donated..

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PostPosted: Fri Mar 10, 2006 2:41 am 
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After sitting by the bar drinking all night it became evident that the Russian was not going to show. Standing up with his guard, he heads out the club to the waiting rental, it was time to head to the airport and get the fuck outta Moscow.

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