#Isola Drabble ⚜

[sanpatron]

Sitting there in his office, his entire torso sprawled out against his desk, and with only the sound of Yor typing away at her keyboard to break up the silence—Django had finally been bested by the leading cause of every company worker's long-lasting anguish and severe depression; monotony.

There was really only so much excitement one could find in doing shit like paperwork, meetings, and dealing with entitled freaks who will completely ruin your standing in the community if you so much as embarrass them at that high society function you weren't even invited to. Oh, sure; concept design and the like were at least something Django could still put his love and passion into. But a single creative outlet working as a lifesaver can only do much in a never ending sea of soul-sucking and boring labor that's ready to swallow you whole at any given moment.

He begins to pick himself up from the desk, leaning back into his chair while staring out towards the rest of Spirale from the large window overlooking the city. It's no secret to those who know him best that Django has always longed for some semblance of the power he once held back home and the sense of freedom that went along with it. Living the straight and narrow was restrictive. Tiresome. It went against everything he practically stood for. Yet in order to survive this world he had been forcefully thrown into, Django would do just about anything to keep himself from going mad. And if that meant having to forego some part of himself and put up with this lifestyle, then so be it.

Though the question remained; how long exactly could he keep this up?

Well, doing anything loud and bombastic seemed to be a no-go here on this quaint little island. Surely there must be something else to help a guy from getting restless. And that's when an idea formed. A wonderful, brilliant little idea that he questioned how exactly it didn't cross his mind before. In his moment of wistfulness for the days of shooting people up and causing property damage, Django had begun to recollect something. Some very vital information. You see, the gang life wasn't exactly filled to the brim with work to do every waking moment. There does come a point where you'll just have to sit back and wait things out before starting the process all over again to get more cash. Same goes for when you're going up against other people. You could go days, even weeks before new intel comes in and you're on your way to fuck up another business opportunity for your rivals. So when you have that much downtime, and a need to keep your hands busy, what's a guy to do?

Side Hustles.

With newfound inspiration, he immediately gets to work on designing advertisements. Django had dabbled in quite a little bit of everything over the years before being whisked away to Radiale; EMT, firefighter, taxi driver, bodyguard, hitman, underground fighter, a practical jack-of-all-trades if you will. And so long as it could provide some decent cash and a way to stave off boredom, he'll happily do any job he can get his nasty little hands on.

LOCAL HANDYMAN AT YOUR SERVICE! REPAIRS, PERSONAL DRIVER, VOLUNTEER WORK, EVEN YOUR OWN BODYGUARD. NO JOB TOO BIG OR SMALL! 100% SATISFACTION GUARANTEE.

Each break during the workweek would be another chance to put his name out there on a more personal level, and as the days would pass, Django would find himself going around the entirety of the city and its branches. Flyers, business cards, practically anything the man could think up he'd do. But it wouldn't just stop there. He made a real effort to speak to the locals in every ward and branch; asking if any of them could use the spare help around their homes, shops, you name it. Taking on whatever job they'd hand him with a smile and the assurance that he could provide them with the best results.

Truthfully a lot of his work ethic was knowledge he had gained from his time as a gang leader. This sort of grassroots kind of approach would always be the basis in getting people to convert to siding with the Saints. If coming off as a pillar to the community helped some of history's most notorious of organized crime leaders, then he could do the exact same thing, and a helluva lot better! And while none of this work was being done for gangster PR exactly, there was still this idea in his mind that at some point or another this would all pay off remarkably in his favor. Provided he doesn't royally fuck it up in spectacular fashion.

Let's all pray for his sake.