Willing Descent
A birthday present for the extraordinary @derekhalesbitchface who deserves all this and more.
Summary: A modern retelling of the Persephone myth with a twist AO3
Persephone was the most beloved daughter of the goddess Demeter.
The Tug.gey family was as close to American royalty as you could get without sharing blood with a Kennedy. Old money, richer than God but they did their part to even that score every Sunday. Lindsay was their golden child, beloved by her stern mother and doted on by her distant father.
She was known throughout the land for her beauty and her kindness.
Lindsay was the perfect Southern debutante. A gentle smile with an easy grace, she carried herself the way you would expect the heir of the Tug.gey name and fortune to. She was good with people, and made connections wherever she went. Politeness, some called it. Others said a natural charisma. The ones who knew her best knew it was just her head for business.
While gathering flowers in a field, Persephone began to wander. Finding the flowers even more beautiful the farther out she went.
College called, the way it did for all good girls who came from money. Lindsay left home in a flurry of well wishes and jokes about graduating early with her Mrs. She was teased about her future as a greek, it was what was expected from a girl like her. She smiled and nodded and let people distract themselves with blonde hair and a full wallet.
The Texas debutante left her gated community for the bright lights of Los Santos.
A city whose glamour held her enraptured from the moment she saw it, the city school was the only one she bothered to apply to. Built on foundations of instant gratification and flowing with rivers of hedonistic desire. Fuck Vegas, this was the id of the nation. Even hiding at the border of the city, the university couldn’t keep the life blood of Los Santos from pumping in from its beating heart.
Lindsay heard its call like a siren song.
Even with the reputation like the one Los Santos had, it wasn’t hard to find people to go out with. Girls looking for a little danger, guys looking to prove something, and people just looking for something they couldn’t get at home. The clubs provided a bit of danger tourism for those who wanted it.
A chance to dance with someone who was more ink than bare flesh.
A chance to accept a ride from a stranger that might take you more than just home.
A chance to try something a little harder than weed.
Lindsay took each step in stride and made friends along the way.
And then she took a big step. Turns out it’s a lot easier to sell drugs when you’re pretty and white, who would have guessed.
Lindsay picked up small jobs from people at clubs, taking packages of drugs she knew, and even those she didn’t, to sell to people she went to school with. Delivering the goods that others couldn’t because no one expected her to be doing it in the first place. Her first step was just doing what she was told. She worked her way into the confidences of the right wrong people until she was trusted with enough merchandise to put a person away for a long time, if they got caught with it.
The thing about Lindsay was she was often underestimated. Nobody expected much from her just like they did not expect much from spring; somehow people always managed to forget that the worst storms could come between the mildest weather. Lindsay could be the calm and the storm.
Lindsay was good with numbers, she was better at business, but she was the best at working people over.
College students, it turned out, weren’t great with conversion rates once the metric system came out to play. College students with addictions to club drugs were even worse and cared even less. Lindsay figured out pretty quickly which kind of person you could stiff, and which kind would pay more than the shit she was selling was worth. No one was going to pull out a scale to check her on her word and with the right flowery words she could get just about anyone to drop an extra couple bucks per ounce.
She held onto the extra for herself. The extra money and the extra drugs.
While she built up her own stockpile and saved, she made friends with bigger badder wrong people. With the right stolen merchandise it suddenly became a lot easier to open certain doors for yourself. Especially when you had no gang loyalties to speak of.
Lindsay found ways to open doors she hadn’t been entirely sure even existed, all by showing off some leftover inventory with a half decent purity and throwing out a couple names -- and maybe by greasing a few palms along the way. Promises of loyal clients she knew she could bring with her and the self given title of freelancer got her new contacts and better stock, letting her ditch the deadweight she’d been working with and pull herself up the ladder.
All it took was a few meetings with a man whose watch said he was someone very important -- or that he was trying pretty desperately to be -- and she was started down a path she had never even seen before. He set her up with his usual supplier, said Lindsay could meet them in an alley in the near abandoned westside of Los Santos. It was a trial run, prove that she was more than just a mouth with some okay product and enough money to get attention, then they could talk about working together.
So she put up her hood and took that final step into the darkness.
Far from the safety of the field, Persephone was startled when a large chasm opened up in the ground beneath her and swallowed her whole. She was discovered by Hades who took her to his kingdom.
Los Santos had a way of always being cast in dramatic shadow, maybe it was the dark that brought out the criminal element or maybe it just had a way of casting its own shadow. Either way it made the voice coming from them less surprising than the person doing the talking.
“You lost, Little Red?”
“Why don’t we skip the talk and go straight to the part where you show me what big teeth you have.”
She came out of the shadows with a sharp smile, baring white teeth between dark, red lips. The woman emerged from the shadows around her, dressed in all black, she would have been petite if not for the six inch heels she had on. She approached Lindsay with the rhythmic click of stilettos sharpened to a point.
She made a show of looking over Lindsay, leaving a hot, slippery feeling as her gaze trailed over Lindsay’s body like blood dripping down from a cut you didn’t know you had.
"You've got some bite, I like that, makes things more fun."
Things were about to go bad. It could be argued that things were already there. Drug suppliers didn't slide from the shadows and they sure as hell didn't look like the woman standing in front of her; sleek and deadly with a knife at her hip.
"Well give me some time, I can be a whole lot of fun, dollface."
Lindsay knew knives.
It was a new hobby, one she'd picked up after a few of the college classes she actually bothered to attend. Every female student at Los Santos University was required to take a self defense class, and then there was the stage combat class some people thought was as big a waste of time as her acting major. So she knew how to deal with knives when they were coming at her, and she knew how to use a fake knife when it was in her hands. But when Lindsay picked up a hobby she didn't go halfway. Knives were a lot like people, useful in most situations but the sharp ones could cut you if you weren’t watching.
So she had a knife at her own hip. Not that it mattered, women who looked like the one in front of her, with a knife on her hip and in her smile, weren't the kind that went easy on beginners. This was a hit, seems Lindsay wasn't as good at making friends as she thought. But maybe she could fix this.
"Oh I'm sure you could,” the woman said, “pretty thing like you. Thing is other people don't seem to agree."
The knife was out, long and deadly, Lindsay took a small amount of comfort in the fact that at least it seemed like the hit was expensive. But it stayed in her hands, this was still a negotiation. Not that it mattered, Lindsay had the feeling she wouldn't get much warning before she learned it wasn't anymore.
"Well you don't seem like the type to care about what other people think." Lindsay said.
The woman sent to kill her laughed, that knife still in her hands. Maybe Lindsay would get lucky and her assassin was out for violence and lesson teaching rather than her literal head on a platter.
"I don't think you know me well enough to be jumping to that kind of conclusion. Do you, Little Red?"
"Maybe I could get to know you, you seem like the kind of person I'd like to know."
She looked back at Lindsay, it was hard to tell if she was impressed but that knife was in her hands and not on Lindsay's neck or between her ribs. That's the kind of thing a girl considered a win.
"Now that's a sweet thought, but here's the thing, I know you Little Red."
This could go one of two ways.
Lindsay had met a few people who had already known who she was. It could be good, when you were trying to make a name for yourself you wanted people to know your name. That was part of the deal, the bigger you became, the more you wanted your name whispered in the shadows. There was always that chance that she just knew about her work.
There was also that chance that she had been watching Lindsay, and Lindsay wasn't sure if that was something she wanted. No, that wasn’t true. Normally, learning a girl with the kind of looks that could start a gang war had been watching her was the sort of thing she would love. But then normally she wasn’t worried about picking a new accessory from between her fourth and fifth ribs.
“Well now I’m just embarrassed,” Lindsay said, “cause I don’t think I can say the same, doll.”
She took a step closer and gave the blade in her hand a little twirl between her fingers. Lindsay wondered if she could manage to disarm her would be murderer if she would just end up getting stabbed with a stiletto for her trouble.
Another step closer, off to the side she was trying to flank Lindsay, so Lindsay turned too.
“You’ve been making waves, Red, and being the professional I am, I’ve been watching you. Turns out you don’t have as many friends as you thought you did.”
“At least tell me you like what you’ve seen.”
A smirk, she was pacing circles around Lindsay now, like a predator circling her prey, and Lindsay had given up spinning around to keep pace.
“Well now you’re just fishing for compliments, but I’ll admit I’ve always enjoyed a bit of competence. You’ve done a pretty good job climbing your way up the ladder. Not as many rookie mistakes as I usually see.”
“I’m flattered,” Lindsay said, sincerely, “if I’d realized someone was watching I would have put on more of a show.”
Another slow trail of her eyes up and down Lindsay’s body.
“That would be something cause, Lindsay Tug.gey, you’ve been a bad girl.” Lindsay felt a dark thrill run down her spine to settle somewhere low in the pit of her stomach at the use of her real name; knowing that this woman who had clearly been sent to kill her had just been playing coy this whole time added a new twist to their banter. “Stealing from the Ballas to climb up the Triad ladder,” she tsked, “that’s not how things are done around here.”
“Now I’m just embarrassed,” Lindsay said, “you know my name and all about me but I can’t say the same.”
“Oh I don’t think that’s true, an up-and-comer like you, I’m sure you’ve heard whispers. I don’t follow just anybody.”
“My momma raised me better than to assume,” Lindsay said. It wasn’t any safer than admitting she didn’t have a clue who she was dealing with, but it had a lot more Southern charm, almost made her seem like she was being coy too.
“You really are cute, and you’ve shown some potential,” she said giving her knife another twirl, “the politics of this really is such a shame.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Lindsay said, trying to think fast.
Another spin, the handle hitting her palm with a dull slap. “Is that so?” she sounded curious, but Lindsay had no way of knowing if it was sincere.
“Join up with me.”
That earned Lindsay another sharp toothed smile, “And why would I do that?”
Lindsay shrugged. “You either will or you won’t,” Lindsay said taking a chance. “You said it yourself, you’ve been watching me. You know what I’m capable of, you’ve seen what I’ve done already, I’m sure you can imagine what we could do together.”
“I’ve been offered quite a bit of money to take care of you,” she said, conversationally.
Lindsay did her best to keep a pokerface, tried not to imagine the feeling of a sharp blade sinking into the space between her throat and collarbone. “You could take that easy payout now, or you could help me put a little work in and we could make so much more.”
She must have expected things to go this way, or maybe Lindsay’s reputation was more impressive than she’d thought it was, because it wasn’t long before the knife went away and a hand was extended. “Meg Tu.rney, pleasure.”
When Demeter learned her beloved daughter had been taken by Hades, she demanded that Zeus secure her freedom else she doom the Earth to an eternal winter.
Uncomfortable, isolated, starving.
All told Lindsay’s first experience in the Los Santos police department wasn’t shaping out to be that positive. At least she was in an interrogation room now instead of the holding cell they’d shoved her in a few hours ago.
Things were not going her way.
Lindsay and Meg were on their way to being the Los Santos power couple. Lindsay got her revenge on the Ballas and the Triad for setting her up, taking their customers, their dealers, and turning half of their suppliers against them. She was growing and expanding and really starting to enjoy being the kingpin of a crew of her own.
Problem was kingpins attracted attention.
Attention from rival gangs and from police officers looking to “clean up the streets”.
There was a reason that kingpins didn’t do grunt work. And that’s because when you were putting drugs on the streets and getting rid of the people who were in your way, it got people looking for you.
But Lindsay liked to keep things hands on, do a couple deliveries herself to help stave off the boredom -- cause what they don’t tell you about running a criminal empire is that it’s a lot like running any other business, a lot of work. So every now and then, between taking care of with low level dealers who weren’t pulling their weight and charming foreign friends who help smuggle in new product, Lindsay would treat herself to a trip out.
Which is why she got pulled over for rolling a stop sign with enough merch to get her back seat to get her a minimum of ten years. Possession with intent to distribute, plus her traffic violation. There goes her spotless record.
It was a rookie cop who pulled her over, fresh faced and honest, looking to meet their ticket quota for the month. The drugs were really just an unfortunate bonus for him.
The problem with fresh faced rookies is that they still had hope in the system, it made them resistant to corrupting influences and it meant they always really wanted to take you in.
“Listen, Officer Dem.arais, this is really just a big misunderstanding.” Lindsay insisted, for the second time wearing her best just been reprimanded expression, “I’m sorry about rolling that stop and I understand if you have to write me a ticket, but this other stuff , I promise it’s not mine.”
“That may be the case, Miss, but I can’t just let you leave with all that in your back seat, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to take you in.”
Lindsay could feel her irritation rising, this was supposed to be a quick drop and now she was trying to convince herself that shooting a beat cop wasn’t worth the clean up.
She took a breath and put on her best pleading smile, “Can’t you cut me a break, just this once, I know it’s wrong and everything and I’m super sorry, but my sorority sisters asked me to pick up their stuff.” She put on her best puppy dog eyes and went for broke, “If you take me in I’ll lose my scholarship.”
“Miss, do you know how much you’re carrying with you right now,” Dem.arais said.
“It’s a big sorority.”
“I can’t just let you go, I could lose my job.”
Lindsay was ready to scream, and questioning that decision she had made not to just shoot this guy when he first started asking questions.
“Couldn’t you just take what’s in my car and let me go? My sisters, they’ll vouch for me if you ask them.”
“If they’ll vouch for you then they’ll still do it when you’re at the station, I can’t just let you go. Get out of the car.”
Now she was handcuffed to a table.
She should have just shot him.
Her one call went to Meg instead of a lawyer. A lawyer would have been admitting some kind of guilt, and her dark doll could get a little trigger happy when she was trying to get things. A phone call would at least get her a few hours before Meg tried to stage a jailbreak, if she was smart, things would all be blown over by then.
The door opened. “Miss Tug.gey, you’ve made quite a splash in your short time here.”
“Like I told your officer, Detective,” Lindsay started to say.
“Captain.”
“Captain,” Lindsay repeated, fighting between instincts to preen at the thought that she warranted someone so high up the chain and distrust at why someone who looked like a run-of-the-mill drug dealer who got caught at a traffic stop would get this sort of attention.
“And I know what you told my officer, Miss Tug.gey, the problem is that it's total bullshit.”
“I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Captain Burns,” Lindsay said, keeping up her mask of annoyed yet charming rich kid and dropping his name because she could.
“Your ‘sisters’ have never heard of you, and no one on campus has seen you in over four months. I hate to tell you but I think you've already lost that scholarship.”
“There are classes online, haven’t you heard the city can be a dangerous place. My mother worries.”
“I’m so glad you mentioned your mother,” Burns said, such a smug bastard that Lindsay almost wondered if he was on the take, “we can get right to the point of why we’re here.”
This was one of those times where staying silent was the smartest thing to do. She tried to remember if anyone had actually read her her rights.
“See when you bring a rich brat in for any sort of questioning, it grabs people’s attention. When that brat happens to be a Tug.gey that gets the district attorney’s attention. Do you know why that gets the DA’s attention, Miss Tug.gey.”
“Because innocent white girls getting wrongly imprisoned attracts the wrong kind of attention.”
“ Because her parents are funding his campaign for mayor and they aren’t pleased that their baby girl is in handcuffs.”
“That was my next guess,” Lindsay said.
“Now personally,” Burns said, leaning across the interrogation room table, “I have no problem leaving an entitled smartass to sit and stew. But what’s bad for the goose is really fucking shit for the gander, and Mommy and Daddy have threatened to pull their donations unless some charges are dropped.
“So here’s the deal,” he continued, “we have a reliable informant who’s told us that Ruby R.ose is actually a ‘sexy little thing, a blonde bombshell, looks like she comes from money,’ their words of course. Now who does that sound like?”
Danger had become no stranger to Lindsay, she had become one of those things that goes bump in the night and that came with a certain amount of peril. She was the kind of person who came to the most dangerous city in the US because it seemed like an adventure. She’d taken control of the city’s drug trade because she got bored. Hell, she had seduced the woman who’d been hired to kill her because she had a weakness for a girl with a deadly smile. Danger was just part of the deal. This though, this was the first time in months that Lindsay had felt scared.
“I could think of a couple people that sounds like,” Lindsay said.
But Lindsay thrived in the danger, in the dark where all of these vicious deeds were done. She may have stumbled into her role here, but that didn’t make the part any less hers.
“But,” she continued, “if the first thing you’re gonna throw out is a vague description from a snitch, I don’t think you’ve got much to go on.”
He laughed, “How’s this for evidence, our very reliable informant told us that Ruby R.ose and her deadly little right hand are a bit of an item.
“Now you and I both know how this works, the justice system is more about money and politics and less about justice, so why don’t we just cut to it. Your parents want you out and we’re pretty sure you’ve got something that can make letting you go worth our while. Give us a way to bring in your pretty little Dollface and we’ll forget all about the white stuff we found in your backseat.”
Lindsay thought she was afraid before, the thought that they had something on Meg sent a bolt of terror down her spine.
“I think I’d like to speak to my lawyer now.”
After watching the people starve, Zeus agreed to see that Hades set Persephone free. Hades agreed that she could be freed, if only that she did not eat anything during her time in the Underworld.
Lindsay spent three nights in a holding cell after she refused to talk to Burns.
Cold, isolated, annoyed.
She thought she had another two days before a certain someone burnt the place down around her.
The boys who pulled her out of her cell weren’t gentle about it, Lindsay figured that meant they were done waiting for her lawyer to make an appearance. She was shoved into a room with a very frazzled looking Captain already sitting at the table.
“I’m done playing games, Tug.gey,” he said slamming a hand down on the table in front of her, “tell us what we want to know.”
“Hullum get all his support pulled?” Lindsay asked conversationally, “Pity, I heard he was gonna turn this city around.”
“You have to be getting awfully lonely in that cell we’re holding you in, I’ve heard you rich girls need quite a bit of stimulation . Just give us what we want and you can go home.”
“I wish I could Captain Burns but I really don’t have anything to give.”
“We know about your girlfriend, Tug.gey, we’ve got footage of the two of you together.”
“Last I checked being queer wasn’t a crime here yet,” Lindsay spat.
“Listen kid, this doll of yours is a killer. She’s bloodthirsty, with a body count that was astro-fucking-nomical long before Ruby R.ose came into the pictures. What are you getting out of protecting her?”
“I- I don’t know,” Lindsay stuttered.
“She doesn’t love you,” Burns said, “you’re just another pawn to play with until you stop being useful, and do you know what happens once you stop being useful?”
Lindsay took a shuddery breath, “I think I can guess.”
The thing about darkness was it suck up on you. It fell slowly, gradually getting darker and darker until you were left alone in the inky blackness. When dusk settled in around you like a heavy blanket, that was your turning point. You could go inside where the light was or you could let the darkness cover you even further.
“Just give us something and we’ll make sure you get back home to your parents.”
Lindsay started to cry, a single shuddery sob breaking free, “She can’t know, she can’t know it was me. She’ll kill me, I just know she will, she almost has before.”
Burns looked almost gleeful. “Just give us enough to catch her, we’ll keep your name far from it, but once we’ve got her we’ll be sure to keep her locked up for a long time.”
Lindsay sniffled, “Okay, okay. She’s got a supplier that she should be meeting late Friday night, I mean late like 3am. He’s got this new drug he’s pushing, a club drug that people on the street are calling Pixie Dust.”
“Where can I find her?” Burns prompted.
“You promise this isn’t going to come back to me,” Lindsay asked. “And that there’ll be no charges brought against me.”
“I’ve got a signed agreement from District Attorney Hullum right here that says just that.”
Lindsay nodded, “She’s meeting him at Star that night club at the right end of 2nd street.”
Burns scribbled down everything she told him and passed it off to someone just outside the interview room door. “You did good, kid, you made the right call.”
“I’m sorry I let it get this far,” Lindsay said.
“Let’s just get you home, okay?”
Starving, on her way out of the Underworld Persephone stole four seeds from a pomegranate and ate them. Doomed by her indulgence, Persephone was cursed to return to her captor.
Freedom was a bright light at the end of a dark road. What the light was might change, but it was always brighter than whatever you were leaving behind.
Lindsay’s bright light was the small square of the outside world she could see through the windows in the door. She had a pair of handcuffs tight around her wrists as she was being led toward that freedom down the hallway of the police station, dim with its flickering fluorescents. Her release only restricted by the hand on her shoulder controlling how fast she could walk.
It had been made clear that the only reason she was being released before they had Meg in custody was politics. The only way Hullum was getting his campaign money was if Lindsay was released free and clear. Which meant Lindsay got a pass.
One step and then another. The distance between her and the first bit of fresh air she’d gotten in days getting that much smaller. With Captain Burns looming over her shoulder, reminding her that she was doing the right thing by rolling on Meg, all the way to the door.
He had one hand on the door and the other at his belt for the key to the cuffs around her wrists. Until the crackle of a police walkie broke the silence. There was a pause, before a tinny voice said, “Uh, Cap?”
The hand left the door.
It moved to the walkie attached to his lapel, “What Luna?”
“We went to that address you told us to check out, and there’s no club here. It’s just some bookstore.”
“Are you sure it’s not a front?”
“Nah boss, don’t think so. Talked to the owner, some old dude, and he says Neverland Books has been here for decades. We checked out the back looks like the only thing comin’ in and out is first editions.”
“Apologize and thank him for his time Luna, then get back here,” Burns said. His hand left his belt and moved to the chain that was connecting her two wrists. He gave it a yank that forced her to turn and face him. “Neverland Books?”
She smirked at him, “Guess you’ll never never get your hands on Dollface like you wanted.”
“Listen here you punk, I’m not playing games.”
“Neither am I, Captain, and I’m done talking to you. Guess you should take me back to my cell.”
A deal was struck between the gods, and Persephone was allowed to return to her mother.
Lindsay spent two months in jail before she got her hearing.
Turns out when you’ve been disinherited and have no money to speak of, that’s what counts as a speedy trial. So she stayed busy. She had her woman on the outside and since Meg had no record to speak of it was no problem getting her in to visit so they could keep the business running.
Lindsay might be locked away, but Ruby R.ose was still out running the streets. It had taken her too long to make herself a place at the throne of the Los Santos underworld, and Lindsay wasn’t going to let something like an impending trial let it slip through her fingers.
As her right hand, the queen of Lindsay’s empire, Meg kept things running smoothly. Ruby R.ose’s Dark Doll was the one people were scared of anyway, the name whispered in nervous voices, she was the only one who could keep the people from getting suspicious. It took a firm hand to keep the mutineers at bay. It took having a woman on the outside to make sure that there was a way to get out.
Lindsay Tug.gey didn’t have any money, cut off from her family’s wealth. Ruby R.ose and Meg Tu.rney both had substantial sums to their names.
It was like Captain Burns said, money made the justice system go round.
Which was why when two months had past, and Lindsay finally got her trial, that wheel had been greased enough that she could slip right out without a problem. She got away with time served, and all it cost was her time and a couple grand in a few retirement funds. The going rate for corruption was pretty cheap in Los Santos.
Lindsay had managed a pretty good trick, turning 10 years into 2 months. Now for her next trick she was going to reintegrate herself back into high society with the help of her lovely assistant. Friends in high places were always good to have, family in high places were even better.
Lindsay’s family was even easier to manipulate than the judge that let her off was.
Three phone calls and a promise that that phase in her life was over and done with, and she was welcomed back into the fold. It helped that rehabilitation and reunited families were press better than money could buy. Having Meg on her arm added a little something extra to the narrative, the connections that the Tu.rneys had made it easy to overlook any ambiguities that Lindsay and Meg might have still been attached to.
Lindsay had picked up a few new tricks and a few new friends in her time behind bars, she knew when it was best to just smile and agree.
As far as most people were concerned, you were what they called you.
Persephone spends most of the year with her beloved mother, but every year she must go back to Hades and serve her four months beside him on the throne.
Campaign season in Los Santos was nothing more than a well dressed war, and fundraising galas were the bloodiest battlefield.
It was a battle between the forces of light and dark, where the right candidate in the right position could tip the scales in favor of your side; and it served the dual purpose of giving the real players a chance to show off their money. When the season was in full swing, there could be two or three events every week, which meant you had to throw around a lot to really make an impression.
Tonight’s event was to get one Geoff Ra.msey elected to a seat on the city counsel; but it was for Lindsay Tug.gey.
This was her first gala event since being welcomed back into the good graces of high society. One that let her rub elbows with the kind of elites she wanted to. They might all have money, but the people who were endorsing Geoff were the kind who had gotten their money the same way she had, through less than reputable sources.
This gala was about Geoff, but it was clear that the real stars were the two women holding court in the corner.
Lindsay a vision as always in blush, a designer gown that was literally made for her with a skirt that blossomed like a flower around her, with Meg on her arm in a black dress that clung to the top half of her body before melting off of her and joining the rest of the shadow she was cloaked in. They had their hangers on thirsting for every word that left their lips, they were royalty leaving scraps for their lessers to pick up.
They were cons, stacking a deck only they could see so that things kept rolling in their favor.
Geoff Ra.msey was their dark horse. A man so crooked some were surprised he even knew there was a local government outside the mob, but who was good enough at what he did that he’d keep doing it til the booze or the feds caught up with him.
But he’d get elected.
Because when you have divine intervention on your side you have no choice but to go where you are led, and pawns are put on the field so that they can protect their queen.
That was how politics worked in Los Santos, and with each season a new kind of change was brought by those who were running the show.
And Lindsay was bringing Spring.
