mothers, tell your children

@mskankovich​ gets a starter !! 

Iggy had been pondering what to do about his PROBLEM for some time. Mickey was missing in action, something that annoyed Iggy immensely. He knew that Iggy had a deal that had to go down tonight and that it was a two person job. He didn’t want to have to bother Colin with it, knowing the ridicule that was likely to come if he did. This was supposed to be something that he could handle on his own. It was more complicated than needing a getaway driver for an easy B&E. The people on the other end of this deal were those who meant BUSINESS, more so than Iggy’s usual partners. There was no room for error and they were expecting both Iggy and Mickey to be there to smooth over the details. If Iggy showed up alone, he would be outnumbered. They were new suppliers, Colin had told him just enough about them that he knew not to mess this up. The Milkovcih’s needed to appear strong and capable of holding up their end of the bargain. 

He needed somebody he TRUSTED, somebody with backbone, someone that didn’t scare easily. His eyes flickered over to his sister who was seated on the couch a few feet away from where he sat at the kitchen table. There was only one reasonable option, and as much as he hated the idea of putting her in danger she was the only one that he knew would be able to handle the heat. She could take care of herself, she was familiar with the business, and she would have Iggy’s back if things went haywire. Standing he crosses into the living room where he sits down beside her. Throwing an arm around the backside of the couch he turns to look at Mandy, 

“well little sister, today is your lucky day.”

You’d think for a house where at any given time, approximately half the residents were locked up or on the run would give someone a decent chance of getting some peace and quiet, but in Mandy’s many years of experience, she has not found that to be the case. So instead, she’s gotten good at tuning out them and their many annoyances. When Iggy sits next to her on the couch and starts in with his shit, Mandy doesn’t even look up from the magazine she’s reading (Guns & Ammo February 2007 -- okay, so she never said she was busy doing anything important).

As Violet stood by the half-empty keg, she heard a voice just over the sound of the music being played at an obscene volume on a speaker hidden somewhere in the house. She nodded, stepping aside so she could reach the cheap plastic fold out table that was set up haphazardly next to the keg. Everything about these Southside parties were just slightly more chaotic than the ones across town, even down to the way they set up the drink tables, and honestly it’s fantastic.

“Do you come to all of these things” She asked the girl knowing she recognized her from the last party. It would probably be good to at least get to know a few people new people here right? Especially since the friends she came with seem to have wandered off to go get high or something.

         Mandy grabbed herself a drink and enjoyed a nice long sip before answering the question, which could be read as friendly or insulting, depending on a person’s persuasion. Mandy decided to take the more charitable interpretation, because she was determined to have a good time these evening, and because she didn’t have the patience to get into it with anyone else right about now.

          It was only December, and already the weather in Chicago was miserable, surprising exactly no one. The terrible weather had driven a lot of people inside, and by the time Mandy arrived at the house party, it was already in full swing, music blaring up and down the block. She’d been in kind of a shitty mood herself, lately, and she hoped a chance to do a little partying, maybe make a little cash, would cheer her up. 

          She only knew the guy throwing the party kind of vaguely, but once inside the house, she spotted a fair amount of people that she recognized. She nodded a greeting to a few of them as she made her way across the room to where there were a few coolers set up. A girl she knew from a few of these types of things was sitting on one of them, and Mandy stopped in front of her.

          “Hey. Can I grab a drink?”

h e y   .      it  wasn’t  much  ,  but  as  far  as  svetlana  was  concerned  it  was  a  fair  enough  start  .  confusion  at  mandy’s  sudden  appearance  pushed  aside  svet  was  still  able  to  shrug  ,  olive  eyes  glancing  around  her  surroundings  as  the  other  woman  paid  the  home  a  compliment  .   ❛   it’s  too  much  ,   ❜   she  answered  in  response  ,  tone  somewhere  between  embarrassment  and  something  that  may  have  qualified  as  a   thank  you  .   ❛   i  thought  people  with  old  money  were  supposed  to  be  subtle  ,  but  apparently  that  isn’t  always  true  .   ❜

from   further   within   the   house   kitchen   cabinets   could   be   heard   opening   and   then   swinging   shut   ,      a  surefire  sign  that  the  promise  of  cookies  was  more  than  just  a  bluff  .  for  mandy’s  sake  she  would’t  be  forced  to  sit  with  a  false  smile  on  her  face  while  watching  a  child  cook  ,  but  truth  be  told  svetlana   wasn’t  quite  sure   what  she  was  meant  to  do  with  her  guest  .  no  topics  of  pleasant  conversation  were  coming  to  mind  ,  so  the  next  best  thing  would  have  to  do  .   ❛   do  you  want  a  drink  ?  vodka  ,  wine  …  coffee  ?   ❜   given  the  time  of  day  something   non-alcoholic   would  probably  be  preferred  ,  but  giving  the  option  of  something  a  little  stronger  couldn’t  hurt  .     

          “I don’t think anyone with money’s subtle,” Mandy offered. When she’d first gotten back to Chicago and was working as a date for all those men, she’d met a pretty wide variety of rich guys. They’d had different personalities and different tastes, but the one thing they’d all had in common was how much they loved to throw their money around, and make a big power trip out of it. It wasn’t like she could exactly blame them or anything; she’d definitely felt a similar impulse just as soon as she’d gotten some money of her own.

          Svetlana’s offer was nice and all, and as a matter of fact Mandy would enjoy a drink. Take a little pressure off the interaction at least, and whatever booze Svetlana and her husband had in a house as nice as this was bound to be good. But accepting her offer would mean prolonging the interaction, and would mean Mandy owed Svetlana, which she was trying to avoid. So instead, she just shook her head politely.

          “I’m good, thanks,” she answered. She considered mentioning that Yevgeny looked good, which he did. You know, cute kid and all that. But that felt vaguely like crossing some sort of unspoken boundary, so she left it be, and instead got down to the reason for her visit, which she was sure Svetlana was wondering about. “I just wanted to make sure you were all squared away, you know, money wise.”

❝ —–  and i told you, i’m just walking.  i’m not waiting for anyone, just lost in my thoughts and not even caring where i walk. ❞   he stated simply and folded his arms over his chest.   ❝ who is ricky, anyway?  sounds like a creep. ❞   he exclaimed, his nose scrunching up slightly at his own thoughts.  though, he should really find himself a filter, because maybe this ricky is family to her;  he didn’t know, but he doesn’t care at the moment.  that is, until someone aims a gun at him, that’s when he’ll care.  and run.  because he doesn’t want to die. 

“The lake?” Brows rose in question, Mickey definitely wasn’t expecting that answer. He figured they would be going to the alibi or some abandoned building, nothing too fancy.  “You kill someone? Need me to help you get rid of the body, that it?” It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for a body to be involved in a celebration, Milkoviches didn’t exactly celebrate things the normal way. Terry would definitely use some occasion to help him do his dirty work, you’re a man now, it’s time you fucking act like it. Mandy wasn’t Terry, though, but still — Milkoviches were Milkoviches. 

He couldn’t see Mandy as being the type to go to the lake willingly. He didn’t think he had ever been to the lake without some kind of purpose; he had never saw the point in going to one unless he was there to get rid of something or you knew how to swim. And he definitely didn’t know how to do that. Grabbing the bottle, he took another swig. He was surprised his sister had brought along shitty whiskey ( her words, not his ) for all the shit she gave him about it. Thank fucking god he wasn’t forced to drink some of the shit she drank. 

“Depends how much you piss me off,” she answered. He was already at about five out of ten, and the day was still young. Then again, when was Mickey not on at a five out of then on the I’m seriously going to fucking murder you, dickwad scale? Mandy wanted to keep the peace at least a little longer, so she cranked the radio back up and focused on driving. It wasn’t a long drive, maybe ten minutes or so, and when they got to their destination she found them a pretty secluded spot with a decent view of the lake and parked the car.

This was just going to be a quick in-and-out, drop off the present (a nice toaster oven, if you’re curious, which Mandy felt was perfectly within the happy couple’s culinary abilities) and run situation. A no pressure, no obligation, don’t have to talk to anyone she didn’t want to situation. A they-probably-won’t-even-know-you’re-there situation.

Right. Which was exactly why you took the time to get all dressed up and do your makeup and shit you fucking liar.

God. Fuck. Mandy parked her car behind the hall and shut off the engine. Probably stupid of her to drive her car, which was pretty nice if she did say so herself, to this neighborhood, but fuck it. Maybe she wanted to show off a little. She really hoped this was the right place, considering it had taken some asking around to find after she’d shown up where Mickey had told her to be and found what was very much not a wedding.

She made her way inside, to what did end up turning out to be a wedding reception already well in progress. Good. She’d hoped she’d shown up late enough to miss, you know, having to run into anyone. Mandy was surprised, frankly, to see how many people there were, but she supposed that was a good thing. She found a place to drop her gift easily enough, and then quickly made her way to the bar where she grabbed a couple of shots. She figured she’d down a little alcohol, find Mickey and catch his eye across the room, wave at him so he’d see she bothered to show up, and then duck out and head home.

{to shithead - 23:24} For Ian.