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Realistic or Modern Empire City: The Irish Mob - IC (Closed)

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Warren Taylor

1575056801023.pngAs soon Keegan confirmed the plan and readied his AK-47, Warren pulled out from the parking spot at the side of the road and casually followed the Chevrolet in the lane to the left side of the EH vehicle. His intention was to build up the speed until he was driving alongside the panel truck. He once again glanced into the rear-view mirror to the vehicle their two friends were inside of and nodded as he acknowledged the driver. "Thank God Declan's in the driver's seat. Quinn's driving is appalling," he remarked.

Warren tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as the car directly in front continued to get in the way of him getting directly alongside the Chevrolet. "Fucking Sunday drivers get on my nerves," he complained. In honesty, the vehicle in front was being driven at a decent speed, but Warren needed it to get out of the way. Shortly after, his wish was granted and the car ahead took a left turn up a slip road. "Finally!" he muttered.

Warren was able to increase his speed and soon enough the panel van Tony and Steve were cooped up in the back of was directly to the right of Keegan. "Ready to take the driver out?" he asked. Upon receiving confirming, Warren put his foot down a little heavier on the accelerator so Keegan was lined up directly with the driver's window of the Chevrolet.


Bugsy Bugsy (Keegan) Pyroclast Pyroclast (Steve) RayPurchase RayPurchase (Tony)
 
Danny Vaughan

1575068411984.png Despite knowing the risk he was taking walking around Manhattan with Savannah - especially with her hand in his - Danny couldn't help but indulge in it. He felt so free with her, so lucky that she wanted to be with him, that the potential consequences of the risk could never dampen his mood. He smiled softly when she agreed that the time since they had last seen each other felt like forever.

They had barely walked a few metres before Savannah began to slow down. The moment Danny turned to look at her he noticed that something was off. She appeared tense and fearful, her face having suddenly paled. "Sav?" he asked, showing mild concern in his tone. Her voice sounded distant when she spoke, as though recounting a memory that she hadn't quite pieced together. Danny positioned himself to fully face her, reaching out to take her other hand in his to remind her that he was there for her.

Savannah explained that she had bumped into her kidnapper whilst out in the city. From the way she tightened her grip, Danny could tell she was afraid of seeing him again. She began to tremble and stutter, then pulled her hands away altogether and covered her eyes. Danny looked around them anxiously, remembering his offer to be her eyes on the street so that she could relax when they spent time together. Except, he had no idea what her assailant looked like. Nevertheless, regardless of who he was, Danny wasn't going to leave her alone if he ever did make an appearance. Although Danny wasn't physically imposing, the apparent post-traumatic stress that Savannah was displaying filled him with a will to protect her.

He started to really worry when she put her hand on her chest. He had seen people enter this state before while on a bad trip, but there were no drugs heightening her anxiety. "Hey, Savvy, look at me," Danny gently spoke, leaning against the same railing and looking her in the eye. "You're alright, okay? Don't worry, I can take you home, no problem. We don't have to stay outside. I've got you, alright?" Sending her a comforting smile, Danny beckoned her in for a hug. "Come here," he offered, wanting to let her make the first move in case she felt at all threatened. "Nothin' bad's gonna happen, I swear. You keep us on the route back to your place, I'll keep an eye out for any dodgy men. Together we'll get home safe and sound. How's that?"

* * * * * * * * * *​

The short time it took to reach Savannah's apartment came as a slight surprise, but gave him a deeper understanding of just how deeply the kidnapper had traumatised her. It seemed she was effectively housebound. Danny took the keys and opened the door for her. The realisation that someone else might be home suddenly hit him, and he hoped to the all the Gods that whoever it was wouldn't take too much of an interest in him. Swallowing his nerves, Danny followed Savannah into the apartment. It was well-lit and very stylish, which shouldn't have surprised him given Savannah's everyday elegance. He had noticed that a person's home often said a lot about them and this was no exception. "Wow, Sav, you got a real nice place here," he smiled, looking around the room in awe. He was trying to keep things light at first to distract Savannah from any dark thoughts that might enter her head and make her panic again.

One of Danny's ingrained beliefs was that everyone was fundamentally equal, and thus had got into a habit of making himself at home in other people's abodes, just as he would welcome someone to do in his own place. Adding that to his instinct to look after Savannah, Danny didn't hesitate to explore the kitchen cupboards looking for glasses to fill. He soon brought her a glass of water, reaching to grab her hand lightly and give it a reassuring squeeze. "Alright. You're safe now. Do you, uh...wanna talk about it?" he offered, not wanting to stir it all up again but at the same time eager to understand what was going on inside her head. "I mean, I've got all day and no place I'd rather be. It's whatever you wanna do. If you wanna be alone to rest, I get it."

Interactions
Misty Gray Misty Gray Savannah
 
KEEGAN LYNCH

MV5BMjMxNTg1Mjc1NF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwOTQzNTE0NzE@._V1_.jpg
Take out the driver.

He might as well wipe the whole lot but Keegan knew that killing the driver was enough damage and gave them enough time to do what they needed to do and get out. He glanced backwards at the secondary car, breathed and then checked the AK over once more as they increased speed. They were closing in. Though they had another car right in front of them with nothing to do with what was about to happen, Keegan tapped his foot as the car in front finally peeled off down a slip road and Warren sped up.

The AK was pressed against the side of the door, with hopes that if a cop were to look in on first glance, they would not spot the rifle. But right now, that wasn't the main priority. They were about to do damage, a lot if they were lucky. He began to roll the window down, before they got alongside the car, so they might have just thought a car catching a breeze on a nice day.

At the question, Keegan made a singular grunt of a noise as he waited for the perfect opportunity to bring the AK up. Soon enough, the window revealed the driver. There didn't need to be any words exchanged as Keegan looked into the cab; his eyes cold and emotionless as he squeezed the trigger.

Tag: Misty Gray Misty Gray (Warren), Pyroclast Pyroclast (Steve) and RayPurchase RayPurchase (Tony)
 
Steve Kelly

1575120471907.png Steve's hand was left suspended in the air, but he didn't care that Tony didn't want to shake it. It actually amused him - the man had character, and a cold, hostile demeanour suited him well. He let his hand drop, but the smirk on his face didn't go anywhere. Tony's question made him chuckle. "Nah, man, I just love my job," he told him, eyes gleaming. "The whole thing's a power trip, gets me so excited I just can't sit still. We're on the winning team, you and me. I ain't got nothin' to be afraid of so I might as well enjoy the ride, don'tcha think?" Steve patted the stack of boxes he was resting on and sent Tony a wink. The Englishman's tough exterior didn't intimidate him at all - in fact, he was rather drawn to it. "I dig your accent, by the way. Arse over tits. Bet the women just throw themselves at you, am I right?"

Their conversation was soon cut short by a loud bang, and the truck swerved violently to the right. The stacks of boxes began to topple and crash into each other and Steve, plastered against the side panel of the truck, banged a fist against the partition. "Hey, watch it!" he called out, unable to see what had happened. Not a second later, the truck crashed, sending Steve to the floor followed by a stack of heavy boxes. "Shittin' hell," he spat, grabbing his Colt M1911 from its holster and scrambling to his feet. With one hefty kick, the back doors of the truck burst open and Steve jumped out, glancing through the dirty panel window before stepping further out.

Fortunately they had reached a dark side street without much traffic to get in their way. The passenger door of the truck opened and the heavily built man that Alistair had sent out with them was pulling on something and cursing under his breath. "Chuck?" Steve prompted him. "What the fuck was -"

"Someone's out for us," the man huffed. "Put one in Harry's skull. I didn't see what kinda' car they're in, but watch out and be ready to shoot."

Leaving Chuck to haul Harry's body onto the passenger side, Steve raised his gun and stepped back to check the road. Two cars had parked up opposite them and when he spotted guns through the windows, he knew they were still under attack. "Get back!" he warned the others, shooting twice through the windscreen of the front vehicle before running to take cover behind the truck.

interactions
RayPurchase RayPurchase Tony
Misty Gray Misty Gray Warren
Bugsy Bugsy Keegan
 
Conor Sullivan and Rachel Harris

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The pub was livelier that afternoon than even Conor had expected. As he continued to lean against the bar, he fidgeted with a square cardboard beer mat with his eyes focused on the activity around them. It was a great sight to watch and reminded him of the early days, back when he ran his cherished pub back in Chicago. Hell, even his favourite one back in Dublin held much nostalgia for him. He missed some of the regulars back in Ireland, but didn't doubt the lads managing thing in Dublin were keeping everyone happy. He was sure his good friend Jackson was making sure everything was thriving in the homeland. Regardless, Conor was itching to take a trip at some point to catch up with those he'd been missing for years.

"You can't talk business with this racket going on," Rachel pointed out, evoking a firm nod from Conor. "I'll set up the back room for the three of you."

A short time later, Rachel was back behind the bar and not long after, the two expected men entered the pub. He tossed the beer mat aside and stepped away from the bar as he saw Mitch approaching with the man who he figured was Farrid. "Well, look who it is. The only decent lawyer in New York," he greeted Mitch with a pat on the shoulder. He then looked to Farrid and outstretched his arm so he could shake the man's hand. "You must be Farrid," he spoke to the medic. "I'm Conor and it's great to finally meet you." He sent the two men a smile before pointing his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the bar. "Rachel will get whatever you're drinking, but there's no need to flash the cash - your drinks are on me, just for today." He then pointed to one of the internal doors at the end of the bar. "Once you've got your tipple, we'll head into the back room so we can all talk in peace."

"What can I get you both?" Rachel asked the two new arrivals, though her smile and gaze lingered on Mitch for a time. "You doing alright?" she curiously asked the lawyer.

Conor couldn't help the boyish grin that was plastered on his face as he watched Rachel interact with Mitch. She intentionally avoided looking at Conor as she knew all too well he'd be somehow trying to embarrass her in Mitch's presence. Deciding to let her off the hook on this occasion, Conor turned his attention to Farrid. "James intends on catching up with you soon, but he's got a lot on his plate at the moment, both business and personal. I'm up to scratch on everything going down with the business, so once we're in a quieter room, I can give you the lowdown." It dawned on him that Farrid often operated from Syd's house so the man knew his nephew quite well. "Have you been in touch with Syd since you got back?" he enquired.


Inb4Cloaker Inb4Cloaker (Farrid) RayPurchase RayPurchase (Mitch)
 
Suicidal ideation; vomiting
Syd Porter

ezgif-3-7e9c0fa8be87.gif Ever since his third suicide attempt had landed him in hospital eight years ago, Syd had had to agree to regular counselling sessions before he could be released. Their advice and support would help him to fight his battles when he wasn't strong enough to do it on his own. Today, he needed that support more than ever - and yet, Maddox Parker, the best counsellor he had ever had, was giving up on him. Even when the man removed his hand from Syd's shoulder and wandered away, he found no relief. There was nobody to help him, now, nothing to stop him from succumbing to the darkness that clouded his mind. Bent forward with his arms tucked against his bleeding chest, Syd let everything go and cried uninhibitedly. He wasn't in control anymore and didn't know how to stop. His head was swimming, his chest burned from the aggravated wound and his stomach was growing sick with despair.

Soon, Maddox began to speak again, reminding Syd of his presence. Slowly, he lifted his head up, arms snaking around himself to hold himself steady. "Come to what?" he croaked, looking up at the man through a veil of tears. His teeth were chattering and he couldn't stop shaking. The counsellor stood a few feet from the window, casting a shadow over Syd and making him feel small. "What I've done...?" he repeated under his breath, Roxie's face coming to mind again. Something in Maddox's voice had changed; when Syd looked into his eyes, he suddenly felt like he was talking to a different person. Like he wasn't safe anymore. His heart rate picked up and he frowned, but Maddox didn't wait for him to answer his question. Instead, he moved onto the topic of Syd's family, insulting them, threatening their safety and explicitly telling Syd that they deserved all of their suffering. "Wait, but...but D-Doctor Parker, you -" A sharp pain shot through his chest then, cutting him off with a pained expression and forcing him to let the counsellor speak.

Syd couldn't believe what he was hearing. None of it made any sense to him. "No...I-I know you, Doctor Parker - I've known you four years," he countered, as though he could somehow convince Maddox he had made a mistake. But the man simply stared back at him, a look of sincerity in his eyes, and the truth soon dawned on him: he had put all his trust into the wrong man. Syd's gaze dropped to the floor in front of him. Having gradually lost confidence in his perception of reality over the past few weeks, it was now falling apart altogether.

As much as he tried to hold onto what he thought he knew, Syd was beginning to lose his grip. Every word that Maddox spoke drove him further from the world he knew and when he eventually looked back over to the man, his face looked altogether different and it terrified him. No longer was his smile reassuring - instead, it only posed a threat, filling Syd with an overwhelming sense of dread so strong that he couldn't move. All the things he had told him, the deep, personal things he must know about him - about his family. The advice, the medication, none of it was ever supposed to help him, only to manipulate him. But it wasn't just him that had been manipulated - his whole family had suffered because of what Syd had confided in him. All sound grew distant as he travelled through his mind, searching for clues that could have suggested that his counsellor was using him to gain inside information. Every time he had left that office, he had been setting out to fulfil something for Maddox's benefit without even knowing it. The harm that had come their way - the kidnapping, the torture, maybe even the murders - it was all because of him. He was the one who had recommended Conor and Peter to seek his counsel. It was him that had lead them all into this trap. This was what his family meant about being careful of who to trust. Syd had always believed himself to be a good judge of character, and now he felt like a fool.

Maddox's question was lost on him as his vision went spotty. Blood pounded in his head and he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling like he was about to be sick. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the piercing gaze of the counsellor fixed on him, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. The rise and fall of his chest grew too rapid for him to keep up with and the shooting pain returned, causing him to twist forward in his seat before falling forward out of it altogether. He caught himself on the coffee table and managed to push himself to his feet, clutching at his chest as he struggled to stay upright. Though it took some effort, he looked towards Maddox with tears in his eyes and managed to hold his gaze. "This wh-whole time you were just leading me to the edge so you could p-push me off -" Syd brought his hands up to his head and dragged them down his face. It was wet with tears and he let out another pained sob as he realised how much of his time and effort had been wasted, how vulnerable he had been with his counsellor over the years. He had told the man things that he hadn't shared with anyone else, not even his mother. "None of it was even real, I could - I could have a-actually made progress but ins-stead you took f-four years of my life..."

Fear and dread had by now erupted into full blown terror and Syd was crying heavily, shaking so much that he couldn't stand still. His trust was broken - in his counsellor, in his parents and in himself. "I can't do it, I can't do it," he wept, not looking back at Maddox as he stumbled over to the door. "I need to get out, I need to fucking -"

When he opened the door, Laura was on the other side and she jumped back in alarm, having been about to open the door herself to check on Maddox. For all Syd knew, she could have been in on it, too. He shoved her out of his way and she fell back into the wall with a gasp. Everyone in the waiting room stared at him in horror, having heard some sort of commotion coming from Doctor Parker's office. But there wasn't anything Syd could do about it. Seeing all their eyes on him only made him paranoid that they all knew something he didn't and he ran to the exit, conscious of the people around him and terrified that someone would stop him.

crying 2.gif "I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!" he screamed, gripping onto the handrail as he raced down the stairs. The terror in his voice echoed through the stairwell and when he reached the bottom he flung the doors wide open, only making it a few feet before collapsing onto the concrete ground and bursting into tears. It was the end for him, he was sure of it - there was no way anyone could convince him to keep on living, and nothing he could do to make up for the danger he had put his family in. Suddenly he felt a hand on his back and he realised that someone was speaking to him, offering to help him. Then he heard shouting, something about a telephone call, and he panicked again and scrambled to get out of the stranger's reach. As soon as he was on his feet, however, the ground seemed to pull out from under him and he staggered sideways, hands flailing to grab onto something for support. Unable to see for the tears in his eyes, Syd gasped for air, clutching at his chest. The voices around him were drowned out by the blood that pounded through his head. He pressed his forearm against a nearby wall to steady himself against the rolling nausea and squeezed his eyes shut, sending thick teardrops to splash onto the ground at his feet. His heart was thudding so hard and fast that he thought he was having a heart attack. Instead, he slowly slid down the wall, scraping his arm on its rough exterior. Before he could register what was happening, Syd found himself being violently sick. His body had surrendered to the panic and shock and there was nothing he could do; the response was so uncontrollable that it had rendered him utterly powerless.

Unable to gather himself, all he could do was ride out what was happening to him. The intensity and the lack of control made him feel somewhat disconnected from the situation. The exertion of throwing up dominated his senses and caused him to momentarily forget where he was - until he sensed someone crouch down beside him and start speaking to him in a soothing voice. In his heightened state of paranoia, Syd believed that Maddox had followed him outside and he turned and punched the stranger in the face. It wasn't a strong hit, but enough to catch them by surprise and topple them over. Seeing it as a chance to escape, Syd picked himself up and started running. The streets were busy but he didn't hesitate to push people aside, not caring who they were or even if he hurt them. Dizzy, disoriented and in physical pain, his running eventually slowed to a weary stagger. His eyes caught sight of a street name that looked familiar and when he decided to follow it, he switched to autopilot and retreated back into his head where the suicidal thoughts were turning over and over.

Having paid little attention to his surroundings for several minutes, Syd was mildly confused to find himself standing in his office at The Lomax. It was quiet at least, the only sound being his own breathing and the faint sound of rock music coming from the ground floor. Looking around his office, Syd pushed the door behind him until he heard the click of the latch. Then, he knew he was alone. He leaned back against the door, exhausted from everything he had just been through. His eyes soon fell upon the alcohol cabinet that he barely touched, and Syd dragged himself towards it to find himself a drink. The consequences of drinking were no longer important to him - he couldn't even remember if he had taken his medication the previous night. He drank the bourbon straight from the bottle, spilling it on himself as he brought it back down. Tears hung suspended in his eyes and he gazed into space without blinking so that they would dry before they could fall. His head was pounding and he moved over to his desk to sit down, scraping the bottom of the bottle against the cabinet on his way.

1575170557704.png As the usual post-breakdown fatigue set in, Syd's eyelids began to flutter indecisively and for a minute or so there was a chance that he would fall asleep before he could commit the act. But then he opened the drawer beside him in search of a fresh pack of cigarettes, and that's when he saw the gun. A PA-15, the first pistol he had bought after arriving in New York. Syd believed it was worth keeping spare weapons hidden in rooms where he might not have one on his person. Of course, they were there in case of attack, not the purpose he was currently intending to use it for. The gun weighed heavy in his hand and he placed it on the desk in front of him, next to the bottle of whiskey. "The only future for them is one without me," he slowly drew out, eyes glazing over as he stared at the gun on which his hand rested.

Just as he was about to pick it up, a strange feeling came over him, as though he was being cast back to another time. It was a familiar feeling, yet came with no clear thought, no distinct memory. A tingling sensation spread across the back of his hand as though someone was touching it and he let go of the gun, tilting his hand upwards to inspect it.

Syd.

He recognised the voice immediately and his heart gave a lurch. "...Skye?"

You don't have to be afraid. I'm with you. I'm here with you.

The voice seemed to come from right behind him, as though two people were simultaneously whispering into each ear - yet, on another level, it felt internal. Syd's vision wavered and he blinked slowly.

It's okay, Syd.

Everything slowed down when he heard her voice, like he had stepped out of time for a moment to meet her, and a soft smile formed on trembling lips as he gazed into the distorted space before him. Once again, his eyes glazed over with tears. "I miss you."

I know. But I'm here now.

Lost in a state of unconscious bliss, Syd's heart pounded and a breath of laughter escaped him. It wasn't quite happiness that he was feeling, but he was too far gone to understand what else it could be. Some tears fell down his cheeks and his shaking hands curled slowly into slackened fists, leaving space for hers to fit between...even though, of course, she wasn't there. "We'll be together soon."

Syd...Call your mum.

The voice sounded so peaceful that Syd felt compelled to obey it, and his eyes drifted towards the telephone without a second thought. As his emergency contact, Lucy was the first on speed dial, so at least his weary head wouldn't have to think of her number.

As quickly as it had come, the hallucination fell from his mind and instead he was focusing on the phone call. Except, it wasn't his mother that picked up. "Finn?" he asked, making no effort to hide his confusion. "It was supposed to be mam, I-I meant to...to call her. Can you tell her to call my office at the club?" Syd hung up the phone, but kept his hand on the receiver so that he wouldn't forget. It wasn't long at all before the phone rang.

The sound of his mother's voice was almost too much for him to bear. For a moment, Syd couldn't speak, for fear of breaking down the second he opened his mouth. She had received too many of these calls from him over the years and he felt guiltier every time. Something in him must have thought he could avoid burdening her this time, however, because he took a deep breath and mustered a smile in an attempt to make his voice sound brighter.

"Mam!" he chirped, raising a trembling hand to his head. "How...How's...How are you? H-How's dad and Thomas?" His faltering words brought on mild frustration and he bit down hard on his tongue, bringing the receiver round to his forehead in embarrassment.

Interactions
Bellz Bellz Lucy/Finn
Misty Gray Misty Gray Maddox
 
Last edited:
Lucy Porter
Lucy Red .png
Lucy was quiet at the table as Ali and Sinead conversed. It was hard to get in on the conversation when she really didn't feel like saying much. "I'm going to grab another drink." She told the ladies before sliding out of her side of the booth and grabbing her empty glass. Walking towards the bar, Lucy saw Scott on the phone and she patiently waited for him to finish before asking, "Another refill please?" Scott looked to the note that he had written on before offering the blonde a smile. "This is for you." He said, sliding the note on the bar towards her before grabbing her empty glass and moving to fix up another drink.

Lucy raised an eyebrow before she picked the note up, Call Syd's office. It read. Lucy's heart felt like it dropped into her stomach, it pounding harshly as it quickened its pace. "C-can I use the office phone?" Lucy asked Scott to which he nodded his head. The blonde knew where it was, so she hurried off towards the office without her drink.

Syd was finally reaching out to her and she wondered if he had called the house first. Lucy felt guilty as she reached the phone and dialed the number she was all too familiar with. She knew she should have stayed at home. She had been watching the phone for a week and the minute she left, Syd needed her. What kind of a mother was she? Lucy didn't know anymore.

The phone only rang once, "Syd? Did you call the house? I'm so sorry I wasn't home. I was out with your aunts." She explained before Syd spoke, causing her to quiet down a moment as she took in his tone of voice. He sounded pleasant but there was a strain that she could hear.."They are good, love. They miss you." Lucy murmured softly.

There was a pause. "I miss you." She said, her voice full of emotion. Lucy moved to sit down in her sister's office chair and leaned forward to rest her arms against the desk as she spoke. Something told her that this wasn't an ordinary phone call, not after everything that had happened the week before. "Syd? I want you to know...I love you so much. And your decisions are your own, just like Sinead's back in the day with Savannah. I want you to have the world. To live a normal life..."

Lucy paused again for a moment as her lip trembled, "I'm just so sorry. Really, I can't imagine my life without my first baby in it. I understand deeply how much a first born means to a parent. I just worry about you, sometimes I feel like I wasn't cut out for this mothering stuff...kinda like your Grandma Shannon." There was a short laugh as she moved her hand to cover her face.

"But I want to be there for you and I know you called me for a reason. What do you need, my boy? Anything and everything I will give it to you." She wasn't going to flat out say he sounded off, but she wanted to make sure that he knew he had support, egging him into explaining what was wrong so she could find a way to fix it.
with: Syd Pyroclast Pyroclast
 
Savannah Callahan

1575146980517.pngOn Danny's gentle command, Savannah looked to him through her tear-filled eyes. Her vision was blurred but she could still make out his features beneath her tears. He tried to tell her that she was going to be okay, but her heightened state made it difficult for her to see reason, so it was difficult to feel calmed by his reassurance. However, she quickly nodded in agreement when he said he could take her home; one of the places she felt safer inside of. With his invitation for a hug, she didn't hesitate to accept and tightly wrapped her arms around his waist and she rested her head on his chest. "That sounds good. Thank you. Thank you," he quietly told him as he told her they were going to get home safely together.


Once they'd both stepped into her apartment, Savannah felt a huge weight being lifted from her shoulders, though the effects of her anxiety lingered on. When Danny complimented her home, Savannah looked up and managed a small smile. "Thank you. Roxie and I decorated this place together. I was real pleased with the results." She remained standing in the kitchen doorway as Danny went about seeking out some glasses. She didn't mean to leave him to his own devices but her mind was still too clouded to do something usually so automatic as to help out. She accepted the glass of water from him and held his hand as they walked into the lounge area.

Sitting on the couch beside him, she brought the glass to her mouth, seeing her hand was still visibly trembling as she took a small sip of water. After setting the drink down on the coffee table, she turned to Danny who was asking her if she wanted to talk about what had happened. She tightly folded her arms around her own waist and stayed silent for a time before lightly shaking her head. "No... I mean, no, I don't want you to leave." She let out a small sigh. "I'm sorry for ruining our date. You don't deserve to get dragged down in my mess like this. I guess I really am no fun at parties," she remarked. She wondered if it was true all along that she was inadequate compared to her peers. Not only was she not as interesting and exciting as they were, but now she felt like she was emotionally messed up to.

"I just keep seeing his face and hearing his voice. He didn't physically hurt me again last week, but he was still saying awful, crude things to me. He and his friend were making threats towards me. The thought of him touching me or even being near me makes me feel sick." She took a deep breath as she'd almost forgotten to breathe whilst she spoke out. "I keep telling myself it won't happen again, that it was just bad luck that he got me again. I keep telling myself these fears are unhealthy and I need to push it all aside, but I can't control it. This anxiety just takes over me and now I understand how my mum felt all this time. I supported her so much when she was struggling, but I never really understood how little control she had over it all. I love my family but I feel like I've inherited all of their burdens. No matter how hard I've tried to be apart from it and follow my dreams, I just think it's in my blood to suffer like they have."

Savannah looked down to her knees and slowly shook her head. "I wish they'd killed him last week," she said, thinking of the intervention from Keegan and Warren. "It's terrible for me to say such a thing, but I would feel safer if I knew that bastard was dead. I'm sorry... does that make you feel less of me?" she asked, looking him in the eyes. Danny seemed like a peaceful person, especially given his upbringing, and she wasn't even sure if she liked herself for wanting someone dead.

Pyroclast Pyroclast (Danny)
 
Maddox Parker

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Maddox stood by, silently watching Syd as the information sank in. The realisation of how he'd been used and manipulated by the counsellor caused immense upset in Syd. Maddox took a couple of steps back as Syd stumbled forward to catch himself on the coffee table. The therapist looked down on the broken man, coldly staring at the result of years of hard work. There wasn't much pleasure to be gained from seeing Syd in such a pitiful state, but that hadn't been what Maddox had craved for so long. He wished to see James Porter shattered to pieces as he watches those he loves being ripped from his hands. Maddox hoped James and his closest associates would feel accountable for Syd's undoing.

When Syd was on his feet, the man addressed Maddox, processing out loud as everything the counsellor had been doing pieced together in his mind. Maddox stood tall, his hands clasped together behind his back as he allowed Syd to keep speaking and only returned affirming nods to confirm the patient had indeed had years of his life wasted by being manipulated. Everything had been building up to this moment and Maddox knew he had to maintain a calmly neutral disposition to hide any inner triumph he might be feeling.

When Syd stumbled towards the door and said he had to get out, a small smile crept onto the counsellor's face. Things had gone as intended, with Syd rushing out of the room rather than Maddox having to find a way to end the session whilst retaining maximum damage to his patient's psychological state. Maddox was quick to remove his smile before the door was opened and he set about rushing after his patient for the sake of keeping up appearances. He hadn't wanted Laura to get hurt in the process, but it worked in his favour that Syd had shoved her back against the wall. "Syd!" Maddox shouted after the man. However, he chose to direct his attention to the receptionist rather than rush after his patient.

"Laura? Are you hurt?" Maddox softly asked as he placed his hand on her shoulder. She'd hit the wall with her back and head, but not at a severe force. Still, Maddox used his free hand to inspect the back of her head to make sure there were no wounds. "Come on, sit down," he kindly offered, leading her to her seat at the reception desk. As he did, he sent those in the waiting room a reassuring glance that he hoped would also tell them to mind their own business. "You're in the right place to get checked out. Maybe Dr. Lane will check you over," he suggested, referring to one of the GPs who shared floor of the Medical Centre.

"Maddox, I'm fine. It was nothing. Stop worrying about me and find Mr. Porter. He seemed awfully troubled even before the session," she reasoned. Having seen all kinds of people enter Maddox's office, the receptionist was more surprised she hadn't seen anyone lash out at her before now. She didn't envy the doctor's work.

On Laura's suggestion, Maddox followed after Syd, though he was already confident that enough time had passed that the man would been well away by now. With nobody around in the staircase, he didn't rush down the steps and when he reached the ground floor, he looked out of the window to see Syd running away across the street. Turning on his heels, Maddox returned upstairs and informed Laura that Syd had already gone. "He's had a lot happen at home since his last session. He became overwhelmed whilst reflecting on it all," he quietly told Laura.

Maddox returned to his office to write up his report on Syd. He made sure to indicate his concerns over the patient's deteriorating mental state and how recent events in his personal life were affecting the man's reasoning. He wanted to make sure his notes gave some clues to Syd's deterioration. He then called Laura into his office. "I have to head over to the hospital for a while. Could you type up this report and give a copy to Dr. Henderson to look over urgently? He hasn't countersigned my request to increase Mr. Porter's medication that I left with you, so perhaps this will convince him." Maddox knew his psychiatrist colleague wouldn't be back in the medical centre for a few hours yet, so likely wouldn't read over Syd's notes in good time.

"Medication request? I don't remember seeing that on my desk," Laura admitted, a slight confusion on her face.

"I left it in the tray, Laura. I have kept telling you to sort out that paperwork and keep your desk tidier." Though his tone was still friendly, Laura was disappointed in herself for losing the document and the worry showed on her face. In reality, the document had never made it to Laura's desk and Maddox had previously slotted it in the messy pile of scrap paperwork that had been tossed into the trash. "I'll write a new request out. Please make sure Dr. Henderson sees that copy, along with my report. I'll check in later to catch up with him. I know he's doing a late shift this evening."

Pyroclast Pyroclast (Syd)

*******​

1575207745286.pngThe walk to the hospital allowed Maddox to get some air to try help his mind settle after what he'd just done. It was difficult to think of what he'd done to Syd when he replaced the man with just about any other of his patients. He couldn't imagine intentionally trying to harm any of them in the way he had just done to Syd - the way he'd been doing for years. Yet, when he put it into context he felt nothing; no guilt, no remorse. The pain the Porters had caused him, his family and others he was associated with seemed to numb Maddox from feeling bad for what he'd just done. His manipulation and pushing seemed to have led Syd beyond the brink, towards the point of no return. Now he was left with the knowledge he was likely responsible for either the death of a man or the man being sectioned in some unfeeling psychiatric hospital. He felt conflicted between knowing what he'd done was fundamentally wrong and feeling some level of triumph over those who had ruined so many lives, including his own.

It was rare for Maddox to feel lost and confused, yet as he walked along the corridors of the hospital, he felt exactly that. As he was greeted by various familiar hospital staff members, he suddenly questioned if he was there for a meeting or to see one of his patients. Deep down, he knew it wasn't work-related and as he brought his hand to his aching chest he knew it was Ani he'd come to see, even if he hadn't actively realised it until now.

After asking for her, he was informed she was working in surgery and so he took a seat in one of the waiting areas as he looked out for her. When he finally saw Ani, he rushed to his feet and approached her. A nervous lump formed in his throat but he was quick to overcome it and maintain composure. "Ani," he softly greeted her with a warm smile. "Do you have time to talk, in private? I have to..." he began, stumbling over his words. Ani was the only person he didn't have to keep up an act with, which also meant she got to see him with his guard down and showing even the smallest sense of vulnerability. "It's done..." he began, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Syd," he simply stated under his breath.

Bellz Bellz (Ani)
 
Tony Harris

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Tony grunted as the van skidded to a halt. Thankfully wedged between the crates he hadn't been sent flying. His hands immediately went down to the bag between his feet, unzipping it.

"You alright there kid? This wasn’t a fuckin’ accident,"


He whispered, pulling out a pair of black leather gloves and a 3 holed balaclava, pulling them on. Definitely an assault rifle, far too loud to be anything smaller. Possible a Kalishnakov, but without a clear sight that was just speculation right now. Either way he was glad that he had come prepared. Out of the bag he removed the Uzi chambered for .45 rounds. Unfolding the stock with a metallic snap he pushed it into his shoulder.

He took a deep breath, licking his lips. He could almost hear the shells falling, the smell of smoke and sweat. He'd hardly been much older than a boy in Korea, fighting a 1950s war with 1940s equipment. Stinking mud, tents which were more holes than fabric, and the noise ... that relentless noise, the symphony of war. A lot of those nights in the early years he had awoken in a cold sweat, the last images of his dreams, blank faces with soulless eyes boring into his own, still imprinted on his eyelids. PTSD the shrinks called it. Bullshit he called it. It wasn't the after effects that had been haunting him, quite the opposite, he had missed it. That place had changed him, many would have said for the worse, but Tony didn't see it that way. War was the great enabler. You could be rich or poor, tall or short, black or white. Death didn't care either way. At Imjin it had claimed all kinds, from all social levels and creeds, and yet he had emerged, the little shit that he was. War was the great redeemer, and he had emerged reborn.

He bundled out of the back of the van. Yep driver dead, the windscreen had cracked and fragmented like a spider's web around the perfectly circular bullet hole, and a good deal of Harry's brains now decorated the cab.

“He's dead Chuck. Get him out the cab and leave him, no need to do a bloody tango with him,"

He grinned as Steve fired a couple of shots at the cars that clearly contained their attackers. Right now they were on the backfoot, they’d been ambushed and they’d lost a quarter of the team already. There was only one way to start evening the odds, the best defense was a good offense. He lowered the Uzi and depressed the trigger, even pressed firmly against his shoulder the kickback was like a bucking mule. A stream of bullets erupted from the fully automatic weapon, aimed in the direction of the two cars. Maybe it would clip a couple of them, but at the very least it would keep them at bay, as he ran out he swung behind the cover of the van with Steve. Releasing the empty magazine he pulled another from his jacket, slotting it into place.

“Fuckin’ arseholes knew just where to hit us. Someone is going to pay for this shitshow. We’re goin’ to have to lose these fuckers, if they follow us back to the Warehouse we’re even more fucked,”

He swung out from behind the truck, firing a few more rounds before swinging back into cover. Clearly they'd followed them from the East Harlem Headquarters. So either they had someone on the inside, or they'd been staking the place out. No way was he leading them and their merry band back to the Moretti warehouse. Like hell he was letting these Mick bastards get away here with their lives.

(Interaction: Pyroclast Pyroclast Steve, Bugsy Bugsy Keegan, Misty Gray Misty Gray Warren)
 
Warren Taylor

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As soon as Keegan fired at the vehicle alongside them, Warren took a quick glance to get confirmation the bullet had hit the target. If the bloody red mess hadn't been confirmation enough, the panel truck violently swinging to the right and crashing sealed it. Warren swerved to the left and pulled into the side of the road, bringing the car to a quick stop. The guys behind them followed suit, pulling into the quieter street directly behind them. "Time to get out of this tin can," he suggested, not wanting to be trapped in the car should the EH pricks come out guns blazing.

Warren grabbed his AK-47 from the back seat and rushed out of the car. He crouched down at the driver's side, using the vehicle as cover and expecting Keegan would move around the car to use the same shield. They needed to destroy the drugs that were in the back of the panel truck and if that meant taking the rest of the bastards down in the process, then it had to be done. Hopefully it would be a clear enough message to those who had dared to steal from the Porters. Warren glanced to his right to see Declan and Quinn had followed suit, taking cover behind their own vehicles, weapons ready to aim and fire.

The back doors of the truck swung open and Steve showed his face long enough for Warren to get a clear view. "It's that fucking--" Warren grumbled, but was cut off as Steve fired at his car, shattering the windscreen. After the two shots, Warren stood up enough to aim his gun over the trunk of the car and rapidly fired half-a-dozen bullets at the door Steve had emerged from. Seeing the face of the bastard who had hurt Savannah seemed to fuel Warren's anger, motivating him more to attack. He took cover again, just in time to hear and feel the vibrations of Tony's gunfire hitting his car and Declan's.

Warren slowed his breathing and made eye-contact with Keegan. He was sure the man also recognised Steve from the previous week and figured he'd realise how angry that sight had made him. Warren knew he needed to get his head focused again, rather than acting on any impulse the situation becoming personal might have triggered. Staying calm and switching off any emotions was one of the first things he'd learned from training with James. He knew he had to stay focused, yet the sight of Steve had pissed him off enough to disrupt his collected mindset.

Bugsy Bugsy (Keegan) Pyroclast Pyroclast (Steve) RayPurchase RayPurchase (Tony)
 
KEEGAN LYNCH

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He was almost guarenteed to have taken the driver out with the red splatter of blood that seemed to hit the windscreen seconds before the paneled vehicle had careened off the road. Keegan was more than aware of their predicament now, having scrambled to get out of the car moments before Warren even suggested on getting out. He spied his brothers taking cover behind their own vehicle, their weapons ready and pointed at the truck and just as he made his move to swing around to a less exposed side; a hail of bullet tore up around him, slamming into the car.

Keegan grimaced, ducking as Quinn or Darren had fired back in return, shouting out for him to get back behind the car (and various slurs towards that of the EH truck). He had been clipped, though adrenaline was enough to make him ignore the pain as he peeked at their attackers; his lip curled in disgust and of partial anger as he spied Steve. The man who he had broken his jaw. Seemed like they were back in the fight so soon, though Keegan was determined to put them down for good this time.

The Irishman had made eye contact with Warren long enough to know that they were angered at the sight of Steve, but he had been in the game long enough to become jaded to the violence, to the emotions that seemed to be so foreign to him now. The kid (Warren) had a lot to go, a few more years and experience. That was, if they made it out alive. Keegan popped back out, firing another round of bullets at them; hoping that one of them would land. "Fuck, the bastards clipped me." He grumbled, pulling away his jacket to reveal a dark red patch. He hissed at the ripple of pain as he braced himself against the side of the car.

"Declan! Quinn! Fucking speak to me!"

"We're okay, Slick! We're okay!"

Only his brothers could sense the worry in his tone as he called over to him. He wanted good news, he wanted them to make it out - if not for himself but for their ma. She didn't deserve to go through more heartbreak. He turned back to Warren, and with a slight growl in his voice: "We can't stay behind this car forever, we need to push forward at some point. Bastards deserve hell, we're here to deliver."

Tag: Misty Gray Misty Gray (Warren) , Pyroclast Pyroclast (Steve), RayPurchase RayPurchase (Tony)
 
Aliana Cartwright-Sullivan​

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It seemed like both Lucy and Sinead had a lot more going on than Ali knew. Whilst she was dealing with her own shit, they were dealing with theirs. The three of them were supposed to be a unit and supportive of each other, seeing as their husbands were dangerous men. The only thing Ali didn't have in common with the two of them was the adult children. She didn't have to worry about Leo lashing out at her just yet or weird creeps. She did have to worry about him being the weird creep somewhere down the line, though, but at the moment it wasn't heavily on her mind. Listening to Sinead speak, she ordered herself a glass of white wine and when it appeared, she took a sip. "You make me fear what'll happen when Leo grows up! I don't think I want him to grow up now." Her friend mentioned things getting back on track with Peter, something she was very happy to hear about. She was aware of the stifles the two were having and they reminded her of her own marital issues not too long ago. At the moment, she was so full of happiness that she gave her a wide smile at the news. "I'm happy for you and Pete. You are the family's ray of sunshine, Sinny, we need you happy." She joked. Once asked about her and Conor's relationship, her face started to turn red.

The two had been doing a lot of making up and such and she still, for whatever reason, get over that butterfly feeling in her stomach. Looking at the both of them, she could tell this was something they were also waiting for for a long time. They were his sisters after-all and no doubt wanted to see him happy. "Oh yeah! Things are definitely getting back to normal. Leo and Conor eating my ice cream then replacing it thinking I won't notice, waking up with a kid in my bed instead of just my husband, clothes all over the house. I'd say things were getting back to normal." There was a slight laugh at the end of her sentence as she took a sip of her drink.

Ali couldn't help but pick up that something was wrong with Lucy, but she didn't know how to approach that besides just listening. It was about Syd again and it worried her a bit. Ever since they had picked them up, Ali had her own fair share of nightmares of those days; often waking up in cold sweats about it. Every time it was a different ending but all involving Syd. It scared her to see him that way and as much as she wanted to reach out and make sure he was okay, she hadn't been able to. With the things she was going through, it was hard for her to push them aside to check on his wellbeing. Hearing from Lucy things weren't getting any better only made her worry more. "I don't know Lucy, Conor is going to the same guy, right? He must be doing something right if Conor has changed and gotten his shit together... But then again, maybe you're right. What works for Conor definitely isn't going to work for Syd."

After a few more moments of conversing, she watched as Lucy left their table and leaned into Sinead. "She's scaring me here, Sin. I thought she and Syd would have fixed things by now especially-" she stopped herself before she brought up their abductions. She didn't want to think about it, but she knew for sure her best friend wouldn't. "Especially since Syd's going to be a father now..."





Sinead ( Misty Gray Misty Gray ) Lucy ( Bellz Bellz )
 
Theodore Wycliff​

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Teddy knew that later in the day he was definitely going to get some sort of chastising for chuckling at the enemy's comment. He was already preparing his mind mentally for it all. Whilst he did this, he simply observed the interactions between his boss and the two men. The anticipation he felt rising as Gabe would go on to slowly explain their reasonings for being there was a lot. While on the inside he felt like a little kid in a candy store, on the outside he was leaning in his chair with his index finger rubbing above his top lip. If he were being honest, he was momentarily taken aback at how bold his own boss was. Sometimes he would forget how bold and serious the man was and even started to envy him for it. There was a small smirk behind his hand, watching both men react with complete and utter shock. As he thought, they fought against his words and were in disbelief. They were saying they weren't going to do a thing, which gave Teddy a reason to speak up.

"Gentlemen, let's not get hostile here. This is a meeting and you're reacting without thinking about the pros and cons of things." Clearing his throat, he counted the pros on one hand and the cons on the other. "Pro, you get to rest, spend time with your family, live, and then be rid of the stress." He gave them a satisfied nod and a thumbs up. "That's a good amount of pros right there. On to the cons. Death and suffering." Looking over to Gabriel, he shrugged his shoulders and looked back at the two men. "Your pros are definitely outweighing the cons so that should be what you should choose." Linking his finger together, he gave them a small smirk.

Some small part of him wanted them to not go along with it in that moment; wanted them to fight against the Moretti's just so he could say I told you so. But then again, Teddy never truly did like to get his hands messy and without a doubt, he would have to get his poor hands messy. At the word of him taking Sinead's club, Teddy immediately looked to Peter to watch his reaction. It was something he knew was coming, and was grateful he was there to see. "Hey now, we can settle this like men without bringing our families into this... Besides," he said, glancing to Gabe with a mischevious smile on his face before looking at them again, "Do you think your precious little family would be able to withstand the things that are to follow you declining our offer? I mean, they've been through so much already..."




Gabriel, James ( Misty Gray Misty Gray ) Peter ( Bellz Bellz )
 
James Porter and Gabriel Moretti

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Gabriel fixed his eyes on Peter's face as the man slammed his hands on the table and pointed at him. The Italian didn't flinch, instead keeping his face stern and neutral. After hearing Peter tell him he was a fool for thinking they'd hand the club over to him, he slowly nodded his head as if giving the man's words serious thought. In reality, he believed they would either give it to him or he would take it. He had no intention of any other possibility seeing the light of day. Gabriel's face twitched slightly when Peter mentioned things becoming about family, clearly making reference to how the Porters had wiped out most of the Moretti family. "Oh, you were very clear," he calmly replied, though with a dark undertone to his words. "It was clear my brother was ill-equipped to take on the mob back then. Your family's message was received and I would not be sitting here at this very moment were I not prepared. Something you will learn very soon is that you should never underestimate me."

Gabriel sat back in his seat as he allowed Teddy to speak up to try reason with the two Irishmen. The Italian doubted they could be reasoned with, but it didn't mean he wouldn't take some pleasure out of watching their reactions and bullheaded stubbornness. James glared at Teddy as the young man tried to weigh in on the pros and cons of what was being offered. "You two are delusional if you think you can sit here and make any kind of threats towards us. Who the fuck do you think you are?" James shot back at Teddy. Although still able to keep his cool for the most part, James was feeling where Peter was coming from, having to consciously fight by his own urge to let out an angry outburst. This was yet another headache to add to James' long list and he was losing patience with the two men seated opposite.

"I will take what I want and if it has to be by force, then it will be by force. Take this garage for instance..." he began, pausing to retrieve a piece of paper from the desk drawer so he could place it in front of James. "Here's your bill for the car repairs. I'll take the cash before I hand over the keys." He sent a glance Jonah's way. "Noah Harris knew what he was doing when he signed this place over to Jonah. They both did. They chose to do things the civilised way. Now, I own this business, Jonah gets to go home to his fiancee this evening and Noah doesn't get beaten to death in his prison cell." He then chuckled as he watched James shoot an irritated glance in Jonah's direction, believing he could have helped the guy if he'd come to the mob to ask for help rather than buckling under Moretti's pressure. "Your own son handed over the names of all of your drugs suppliers because he knew it would avoid further bloodshed."


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"Not all of them--" James corrected Gabriel, though he wouldn't give clues to which contacts remained under his belt.

Teddy asked the two Irishmen if they thought their family could withstand what the Morettis had in store, evoking a small smirk from Gabriel. "He's right. Can the pair of you honestly say you can withstand it and protect your loved ones? If I were to change my mind and have my men shoot you both in the head rights now, who do you think will keep your family and business safe? I've done some research and I can't think of anyone who could realistically fill your boots, Mr. Porter. You see, I know who tortured Syd, Lucy and Sinead. My friend gave me a damning report on how your son handled it." Moretti paused and rubbed his forehead as he thought back to what Alistair had told him. "Syd just sat there crying and couldn't even stand up for his family. 'Meek as a mouse', I believe was my friend's assessment... Your son is a disaster and your whole family lacks discipline."

Hearing the man speak so disrespectfully about Syd caused James to shoot up from his seat and was ready to attack Gabriel when he was snapped back to reality by the view of the two guns being pointed directly at his skull. "Don't you speak another word about my son, or any of my family. You're fucked!" he threatened the man.

Gabriel, having stood to meet James' level, calmly raised his right hand, waving his index finger in the air to signal for his guards to back down. "That's the temper of a strained man showing through. I've done so much research on you that I know you're usually such a controlled man. This is clearly becoming too much even for you... Last chance to accept my offer."

"You'll just have to kill me now, because I won't be making any deals with you," James simply concluded. Something didn't quite add up and that made James feel more confident in the present situation. If Moretti was so sure nobody could take over the mob in his place, then why not just kill him now and watch the Porters' empire fall?

"Fine." Gabriel sat back down. He tapped his finger on the paper repair bill he'd previously passed to James. "Well, I look forward to doing this the messy way... Pay Teddy here the bill and fuck off, Mr. Porter. Teddy, get him his car keys when he pays up." He then looked to Peter and sent the man an amicable smile. "You sure you don't want to do this the easy way now? I'll buy the Jazz Club and your sweet wife is left in peace. Mrs. Callahan will still get to drink in there with Mrs. Porter and Mrs. Cartwright, as they are doing as we all speak..." he pointed out. Moretti mentioned the three women being in the Jazz Club as they were his insurance for today. The Porters wouldn't retaliate if they knew it would risk the lives of the three women.


Bellz Bellz (Peter) Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess (Teddy)
 
Heavy suicidal themes
Syd Porter

ezgif-3-00671b15dd9d.gif Hearing his mother's voice after all this time, after everything that had happened, tugged at Syd's heart. Resting his elbows on the desk, his grip on the receiver tightened and he moved a hand up to cover his mouth. It was impossible for him not to cry as his mother tried to make amends with him. He wanted so badly to go back to her, to end all the fighting between them, but he couldn't. Now that he knew the truth, it didn't matter what he wanted. Killing himself was the only way to prevent further damage.

Syd fought to keep his cries silent, not wanting to worry his mother, but her loving words hurt him so much he had to turn away from the telephone to take a breath so that she wouldn't hear his trembling. Like any doting mother, she wanted her son to have the world, and couldn't imagine one without him in it. Except, that was exactly what her reality was to become. Regardless of whether they would make up and grow as close as they used to be, Syd couldn't let his family suffer anymore - he had to remove himself from their lives for good.

When he heard her encourage him to ask her for what he needed, Syd drew a deep breath and brought himself back to the receiver. He looked to the ceiling as tears flowed down his face. "U-um..." he stammered, overwhelmed by the unexpected offer. "Nothing. I don't...I don't need anything." His voice weakened to a whisper, leading into silence as Syd brought his knuckles to his mouth and closed his eyes. It was getting harder to hide his emotions, knowing that this was the last time he would ever speak to his mother. Despite his attempt to control himself, his sobbing became audible after only a few seconds.

His family had done so much for him over the years, from the very day they brought him into their home to all the care, supervision and support they had supplied him with during his complicated bereavement process. All he ever wanted to do was give back to them, pay them gratitude in whatever ways he could, make them proud of him. Yet what had he done instead? He had put his parents through hell and supplied Maddox with the means to ruin their business, endangering everyone he cared about in the process. As far as he was concerned, he didn't deserve his mother’s effort, time or generosity - not even her love. He was convinced that she wouldn't be making such an offer if she knew how he had betrayed her.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his throat catching before he could say anything more. The truth was, he wasn't sure exactly for what he was apologising. There were so many reasons, yet he was too upset to list them. All he knew, in that moment, was that he had done something unforgivable that he couldn’t undo. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered again, grimacing as heavy tears spilled down his face. As terrified as he was, Syd knew that his time was up. If he was successful in his attempt, better that the last thing he did was allow his mother to relax than to put her through that anguish again. So, in an attempt to not give himself away, he took a deep breath to try to level his voice before he spoke. "Listen, mam, everything is going to be okay," he told her, straining his voice to conceal the emotion simmering beneath the surface. "Whatever happens...it'll be okay. You look after yourself, you make sure Thomas is good. Tell him I love him. Make sure he knows that. And dad, too." It was getting harder to speak and despite his efforts to sound normal, Syd wasn't sure how he was coming across. He began toying with the gun on his desk, examining its features and the texture of the handle. Nothing about it was unfamiliar, but now that he intended to use it on himself, it suddenly seemed new to him. "Mam..." he piped up, voice now thick with emotion. "I have to go, now. I love you...but I have to go."

And that was it - the last time he would ever hear his mother's voice. Syd's hands were shaking so much that it took a few attempts to hang up the phone properly. He took the gun into his hand and stood up, keeping two fingers on the desk to steady himself. "I have to go, now," he muttered to himself, silencing any last minute doubts. His eyes filled with tears and he took a few deep, shaky breaths. He wasn't thinking about Maddox anymore, nor the specific reasons behind the immense guilt that spurred him on. It was only him and the gun in his hand. There was nothing else.

Interactions
Bellz Bellz Lucy
Enzyme Enzyme ...Surprise!
 
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Jackson McCarthy

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Jackson’s eyes aimlessly traced the passing buildings through the dark tint of the limousine. The dull brick buildings he had once tried to focus on were now blending into a mix of indistinct gray. He was far from Ireland and a glance north, south, east, or west would confirm it all the same. Even the most minute details were completely foreign to him, like the look of the dark, sleek roads compared to the bulky cobblestone paths he was familiar with. The shock hadn't given way to discomfort, as he was still reveling in the marvel of a fresh change - like a child impelled into a different universe, he was absorbing his surroundings.

"Mitche-boy," Jackson called out to Mitchel, the driver, through the open divider. "Yes, Mr. McCarthy?" Jackson could see a sliver of the man's wrinkled face as he looked back at him, his harsh features illuminated by the sunlight beaming through the windshield. "Where the hell are we?" Jackson asked as he looked back to the window beside him, rubbing his scarred, ringed knuckle against his lips. "Midtown, Manhattan, sir,” Mitchel confirmed.

Jackson nodded briefly, his eyes glancing to the pedestrians through the thick glass. They all appeared to be in a rush, trapped in the confines of their own world. Dublin was an all-inclusive city. Everyone welcomed each other there with a warm smile and a ‘good afternoon’. There was a sense of unity that held the place together like a hefty string wrapped around the populace; it was part of the reason why citizens wouldn’t talk to a Garda but would house a gangster. Here, the thought struck him that the Rapture could take place at any moment, yet the average New Yorker would just bless the opportunity to be left alone, as if any of them would so much levitate off the ground under that circumstance. “The island of many hills,” Mitchel followed up, to which Jackson responded with an unenthusiastic, “Right.”

The name ‘Manhattan’ did resonate with Jackson, however, beyond it being a cultural icon. It was attached to something else, something he had incorporated into his notes. The passing sign along the sidewalk caused another light to flicker in his head. He reached into his heavy black jacket, dipping his hand into the silk pocket inside. He pulled a neatly folded paper out, drenched in smeared ink. A few addresses were jotted down, but one in particular caught his eye, ‘The Lomax’.

“Oi, stop ‘ere, Mitche’,” Jackson ordered, waving his finger to the divider. Mitchel did as he was told, cutting past an angry cab driver to reach the sidewalk, not without receiving a few loud honks. “Gotta’ pay a visit right quick.” Jackson pushed open the door, allowing the white, busy noise of the city to flood into the limo. “I’ll be right back.”

As he was pulling himself out of the car, he paused briefly, before ducking back inside. His hand reached into the cooler beside the center console, pulling out a chilled bottle of champagne. “This’ll do,” he chuckled, before stepping outside.

Seeing New York from a car window was one thing, but being outside among the clustered streets was a whole new experience on its own. Every quadrant of the walk was being occupied by a wall-street tycoon reading the classified, a vendor clamoring for attention, or a homeless man clattering his tin can. Jackson couldn’t even imagine the drastic measures someone would have to take to be a somebody in this town. He could already feel the stress James was no doubt having bestowed upon him. Yet, there was an indistinct charm this city emitted that, while Jackson failed to place his finger on it, was undoubtedly there. Maybe it was something in the air? While he could understand why people would want to put as much distance between themselves and ‘The Big Apple’ as possible, there was no denying the intoxicating glamour radiating from the city that clearly never slept.

Moving through the crowded walk, he made his way to the nightclub. Once he was inside, he closed the door quickly to hush the endless chatter from the streets. As he closed the door, he was met with the melody of blues. He hadn't had a chance to become acquainted with the music genre much in Ireland, yet he found his head rocking back and forth subtly to the infectious symphony. He looked to the few patrons around the bar and chalked up the quietness to the time in the day. His eyes glance advanced to the framed records on the decorative wall, which stretched all the way up to the employee only door.

Jackson brushed off the accumulated frost from the bottom of the champagne bottle, before finding his natural smile curling up his lips. He hadn't seen Syd in a decade, and it felt like double. He had no doubt in his mind that Syd was using the massive city to its full potential and was currently riding the wave of success. He moved up the path to the door, nodding to the bartender who was now acknowledging his presence. Without any further adieu, his hand drifted to the door knob. "Is there a Mister Syd Porter in?"

Jackson's bright smile was short lived, as it slowly faded once he absorbed the scene in front of him. The cluttered office matched Syd's red, tear stained eyes. Jackson's face interchanged between concern and bewildered confusion. His eyes, however, fell to the handgun nuzzled in Syd's grip.

Pyroclast Pyroclast (Syd)
 
Jason Costello

1575337767396.png The fact that Gwen had brought the record to listen to it for the first time in 11 years and had chosen to do so with him meant something to Jason. It was a step towards not just forgiveness but also a symbolic rekindling of their past relationship. Although on some level he was reluctant to be reminded of the night he walked out on her, on another he was eager to hear a song that represented a time before everything went wrong. To know that even after all this time, they still had memories bringing them together.

Jason ignored Ruben as he jumped up to the turntable, his eyes fixed only on Gwen as she prepared the music and proceeded to step into the centre of the room. He moved towards her when she beckoned him, a soft smile appearing on his face. His hands slipped around her and when she moved in close against him, he tilted his head so that it rested gently against hers. The slow, gentle melody didn't stir up any negative emotions after all; it only made him realise how lucky he was to have managed to come full circle and end up back in her arms, dancing to this same tune. It was another time, another place and what they had once had had all been thrown to the wind. How he had ended up finding Gwen in New York 11 years later, dancing with her to the same record he had given to her when they were young, Jason simply couldn't comprehend.

He was soon drawn from his thoughts when Gwen began to speak. She told him that marriage hadn't meant anything to her, that she had never been happy like she had been with him. In all his life, Jason hadn't seen many happy, functional marriages. The memories he had of his own parents were not particularly pleasant, and having lead a life of crime he hadn't formed many strong, long-term friendships that may have exposed him to other couples. On reflection, he couldn't think of a single happily married couple besides the one that owned the shop beneath his apartment. And yet, it surprised him to hear Gwen admit that it meant nothing to her. As someone who had never considered marriage as part of his plan in life, Jason didn't understand why anyone would marry someone they don't love. Love was the only reason Jason would do it. He was fine on his own, at the very least because it was normal for him. He knew how to be alone.

Jason pulled himself back from the embrace just enough to look at her. It wasn't the first time she had mentioned how unhappy her marriage with Lorelei's father had been, but it was still a heavy subject and he couldn't imagine how it must have been for her. Still swaying with her in time with the music, Jason searched her eyes to identify the emotion that came with her train of thought. "Gwen...I wasn't a good man to ye back then," he quietly reminded her. "Ye deserve better than what I was, better than what yer husband was. You were the most important thing in my life - the only important thing. I just didn't know it at the time. And, well...I don't intend t'be makin' that mistake again, now."

The song continued on, but he could sense the end coming soon and so drew himself back into a close embrace. A soft smile appeared on his face and, although to him it felt like a particularly intimate gesture after what he had said, he planted a kiss on the side of her head. It felt magical to be dancing with her again and Jason knew that nothing would ever be worth throwing away what the universe had been kind enough to give back to him. A chance at love.

When the song came to its end, Jason continued to hold her for a moment with eyes closed. Then, giving a blissful sigh, he took a step back and smiled at her. "God, I do love that song...You wanna play emcee tonight and put on some more while I get dinner started?" He gestured to his record collection, curious as to how much of it she also owned. There must have been dozens of records there that still reminded him of her. The chicken was in the oven already; it had to be out of Ruben's reach or they would end up picking scraps from a carcass. "You think you were happy with me then," he spoke up, gently swaying to the rhythm in his head as he began to chop the vegetables. "You wait 'til we're sittin' down to eat this roast."

Interactions
Bellz Bellz Gwen
 
Peter Callahan
middle finger .jpegPeter had seen the twitch in Gabriel's features and was satisfied that he seemed to hit some sort of nerve in the man. Glaring Teddy's way, he didn't have the patience to hear the pros and the cons of something that simply wasn't going to happen. "Our family has clearly been brought into this." Peter said through clenched teeth. Teddy smiled mischievously and Peter balled his hands into fists, taking in a sharp breath. "That's going to end." He threatened. But Moretti just smirked questioning how the two men would be able to protect their families.

He revealed that he knew who tortured Sinead, Lucy and Syd. Peter leaned forward in his seat as he stared intensely at the man as he spoke. He was so mad that his limbs were beginning to twitch and he bounced his knees up and down. Peter was ready to attack, so tense his muscles were practically screaming at him. But he remained in his seat.

Peter's head stiffly turned to James as Moretti talked about Syd's 'assessment.' What kind of assessments were them making, what for? James' shot up from his seat, causing Peter to do the same. Both guards lifted their guns but Peter simply turned and looked them both in the eye, taking a second to remember each of their faces. Slowly, he turned back to face Gabriel and Teddy, James concluding that he would have to be killed for he was not making any deals.

Peter nodded his head in agreement and Gabriel took the answer from James. His heart raced a bit more in his chest as Gabriel stated that he looked forward to doing things the messy way, anxiety suddenly swelling in his lungs as his breath hitched. Moretti turned to him with a smile and Peter watched him with wide eyes as he struggled to take a deep breath.

He would never take an offer from anyone who posed a threat to the family but he worried for their safety now that it was all said and done. Peter wasn't as stubborn as James and certainly didn't have outbursts like he had been having but Sinead and his kids were his life. He couldn't imagine what he would do without them. To be all alone again...he didn't want that. His worries intensified as Gabriel revealed that he knew where the women were this afternoon. "You may think you have this all figured out. But I really don't think you understand who you are messing with here." Peter stated as he looked to James.

"You've already lost family to us and yet you decide to challenge us? Want some more? Fine, we'll give you more." Middle finger raised to where Gabriel could see, Peter offered the man a grin before slowly backing out towards the exit as James paid for the car. Once they were out of the garage and outside, Peter felt like he could breathe again. The car was pulled up and the two men got inside, the cab was silent as Peter mulled over what was guaranteed to come.

"We need to get to the Jazz Club." Peter told James finally, "Do you have a fucking cigarette in here, I could use a whole pack right about now."
with: James + Gabriel Misty Gray Misty Gray ; Teddy Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess
 
Mitchell Van Gerwen

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Mitch grinned as he approached the bar with Farrid. The personality equivalent of a hurricane that was Conor had already twigged the pair.

“And if isn’t the client who’s going to be responsible for me going grey. Good to see you as always Conor, as long as you’re not here to dump a load more paperwork on my shoulders, I'm not sure my delicate shoulders would be able to take much more,”

He returned Conor’s pat on the shoulder. It was good to see him in his element. He’d heard he was back with Aliana and the kids as well, and Mitch couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride about it having helped achieve it. The parole board were being kept happy with his monthly reports of Conor keeping up with the terms of his parole, and all that was needed was Maddox’s final signature on the medical side of things, and that should pretty much be forthcoming, he couldn’t foresee any problems there. With himself and Maddox supporting Conor, he couldn’t see it going wrong, even amongst all of the violence. At least there was a bright spot to look at. Speaking of bright spots, his own smile brightened as Rachel appeared at the bar. He leaned on the bar. His own gaze meeting her own.

"Not bad not bad. Always better for seeing you though, you always seem to brighten up the place. How about you, not too busy with it all I hope? Conor isn't being too much of a task master?"

His hands were beginning to fidget, and he grasped one in the other momentarily arresting the movement. Seeing as Farrid was soon in conversation with Conor he was able to fully focus on Rachel. He scratched at the back of his head, a hint of nerves once more creeping in.

“Just a beer will do, I don’t want to go running the place out of business due to Conor’s hospitality. In fact I was just wondering… if you’re not stuck here until the small hours, if maybe you’d fancy heading out for a drink with me… if Conor doesn’t hold us too long and if you even want to of course?”

Mitch could feel the tips of his ears begin to become uncomfortably warm as they began to redden slightly. If she was a judge he’d have none of these problems, and yet here he was rambling like a fool.

(Interaction: Misty Gray Misty Gray Rachel, Conor Inb4Cloaker Inb4Cloaker Farrid)
 

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Ani Sarraf
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After spending a good amount of time in surgery, Ani was done for the day, which meant it was time to go home and face her brother. It left her in a rather sour mood as she stripped off her scrub coverings and threw them away. After washing up, she headed towards the locker room to grab her things. Walking into the waiting room, Ani took a look around before she noticed Maddox walking quickly towards her.

She smiled and he returned it, but there was something in his eyes that told her that he wasn't as okay as he seemed. "Maddox," Ani greeted in return before her smile began to fade at his words. "Of course." She murmured, concern in her eyes as she tilted her head to the side slightly.

He seemed so vulnerable in that moment that she reached her hand out to take his, he whispered that it was done...mentioning Syd's name. She understood what had been done.

Ani nodded her head once before turning her head to look around the bustling hospital. Thinking for a moment on where they could have some privacy away from the ears of gossiping nurses and other doctors, Ani squeezed Maddox's hand before starting to walk with him away from the waiting area.

"This way." She said quietly. Walking in silence for a short amount of time, the came to a door in the middle of a quieter hall way. Ani moved to grab her key from her purse and opened the door before stepping inside to reveal a room with four bunk beds. Waiting for Maddox to step inside, Ani looked to see if anyone was looking their way before stepping in and closing the door behind them.

Locking the door, she moved to the lower bunk on the right side and took a seat. Patting the space next to her, she waited for him to take a seat before asking, "Are you okay?"
with: Maddox Misty Gray Misty Gray
 
Heavy suicidal themes
Syd Porter

ezgif-6-4aa2e22a7cd5.gif Something was stopping him. Perhaps it was an unaddressed fear of dying, of leaving behind everyone he loved, everything he had built - but there was no way that he would be able to work it out in this state. Syd had one clear goal and that was to put an end to his life; his head was otherwise void of thought. There he stood behind his desk, gazing down at the gun in his hand, paralysed by the gravity of his decision. He wished that he could live, that his future held hope and promise, but even with a baby on the way all he saw was more destruction. More destruction caused by his behaviour, his actions and his failures. He couldn't live. Not if he wanted everyone else to.

Eventually, Syd raised the gun, slowed down heavily by the clash of determination versus reluctance, of duty versus fear. The weapon felt heavier than he remembered, although that was perhaps due to a lack of energy. Closing his eyes, he dragged the barrel down the contours of his pallid, tear-stained face and exhaled a shuddering breath. Soon, the rim of the barrel hung from his bottom lip and Syd began breathing heavily with anticipation. The rising intensity had him sweating and he swayed on unsteady legs as he summoned the strength to position it in his mouth and fire.

With his eyes closed, the world already seemed to have fallen away from around him. Any last intelligible manifestations of regret, doubt and self-loathing had since swirled into a blur inside his mind, like a wheel of colour spinning faster than the human eye can fathom and eventually appearing blank. He tasted metal, the gun against his lips. He felt the fierce pounding of his heart, the tension in his head, the turbulent nausea - and he welcomed it all. A point had been reached at which his worries ceased to exist and all sense of his surroundings became irrelevant. He was alone on the brink, far from everything that had ever mattered, and everything that hadn't.

When the door opened and a voice sounded from within the room, Syd gasped and pulled the gun away sharply, his eyes flying open in fear. Everything suddenly rushed back to him and the shock of being back in the room destroyed any state of peace that he had reached. It wasn't just him and the gun anymore - he was back in his office, and there was a man in there with him. A familiar man. A man from his past. Syd stared at him like a deer in the headlights.

Several long seconds passed before Syd made an attempt to comprehend the situation. "Jackson?" he whispered, suddenly gripped by an immobilising fear. "B-but Jackson isn't..."

The effort it took to form a sentence in this state had become unnecessary ever since he had picked up the gun, and now it seemed to require a part of his brain that was clouded over by the impenetrable black fog. He had called his mother already, but once that was done he had been left with no energy to make any other calls and had turned to concentrate solely on carrying out the act of killing himself. Jackson was a man to whom Syd had once been very close and who had in many ways been a second father figure to him. A Godfather. Yet, to stand before him now only called Syd to further question reality. As far as he could think - which, in his current state, wasn't very far at all - he hadn't been expecting a visit from him. Just like he hadn't expected a visit from Skye. Or for his counsellor to have been using him to hurt everyone he cared about, or for his parents to reject the baby he was having with Roxie. Syd had no reason to believe that Jackson wasn't just another hallucination. He had no ground beneath his feet at all.

Suddenly, and through no course of conscious reasoning, Syd pointed his gun towards Jackson, holding it with both hands to ease the trembling. "There's no one here but me," he quietly assured himself, but the fresh tears that collected in his eyes were proof of his doubt. He blinked hard to test what he was seeing, causing the tears to cascade down his cheeks - but when the man continued to stand there, his presence only seemed to pose more of a threat. It seemed to Syd that he had been sent there to test him, to see if he would still be able to kill himself after reuniting with someone he loved. If he let himself believe that Jackson was really there, then he might not be able to do it - so, he denied his senses. But amidst all his uncertainty, there still lay a level of doubt. He had to prove to himself that he wasn't hallucinating. Lacking the capacity to exercise reason, Syd thrust the gun in Jackson's direction and fired.

An explosion of liquid sent shards of glass flying to all corners of the room and Syd jumped back in terror. In the end, he hadn't shot Jackson, but rather the bottle of champagne in his hand. So fixated on the man's familiar face, Syd hadn't even registered the bottle he had been carrying. The shock of the blast had brought to his attention all the psychosomatic effects of his breakdown. Flung into a fresh state of panic, he began to hyperventilate and slowly backed into the wall behind his desk. He felt so sick that he wasn't even conscious of the small ring of metal pressed against his temple, nor the light rattle of his trembling finger hovering over the trigger.

Interactions
Enzyme Enzyme Jackson
Bellz Bellz Lucy
 
Lucy Porter
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Lucy concentrated on a picture of her sister and her on the desk as Syd spoke into the phone, his voice hushed. "Syd?" Lucy asked gently as everything went silent for a moment. Then she heard the sobs, "Its okay, Syd. Everything is going to be okay. Do you need me to come over there? I could take you home...Please don't be upset, love." Lucy's own eyes watered as she continued to concentrate on the picture.

He continued to sob and Lucy listened, not saying anymore as she figured that he really needed a good cry. After some time, he mumbled an apology and Lucy shook her head as if he could see it, "No. Don't apologize. Please, its okay." Lucy reassured but once again he apologized.

He reassured her slightly when he said that everything was going to be okay, his voice somewhat convincing her in that moment that he was going to be fine but then he went on to tell her to look after herself. The odd phrasing as he continued made her lean back in her seat, readjusting the phone in her grip. "Syd? You know you could come over and tell him that yourself." Her voice cautious, "We love you so much, just come home." His words were setting off alarms in her head as this type of thing he was saying was all too familiar to her.

Then he wanted to get off the phone, or that was what she thought at first, but as soon as it was followed by I love you, Lucy let out a gasp, "Syd, stay on the phone, please." She begged him but he said he had to go. "Syd please, I need you to stay on the phone with me, we can get you through this. Please!" Her voice rose with panic but the line went dead a second later.


The phone slid from Lucy's hand as she ripped herself up out of the office chair, headed straight for the door. Once she reached the club area, Lucy made a beeline to where Sinead and Ali were sitting, tears and panic in her eyes. Reaching for her purse that she had left beside her sister, Lucy gripped it in her arms before looking at the two women, "Syd's going to try and kill himself!!" She cried, not wasting another second she raced to her car.

Fumbling with her purse she grabbed her keys and unlocked the driver's side door before practically throwing herself inside. Her hand shook violently with adrenaline as she tried to put the key into the ignition. Missing the first three times, she finally go the key in and turned it. She didn't even give the Mustang the chance to warm up as she put it in reverse and hit the gas pedal. Tires squealed as she peeled out of the parking lot onto the busy street, horns blaring as she cut several people off.

***​

Pulling into 'The Lomax' lot, Lucy didn't fuss with finding a space and instead just left the car in the middle of the aisle, tearing her keys from the ignition as she hopped out of the car. Jogging as quick as she could inside, Lucy couldn't focus on anything other than finding her son, not paying attention to anyone or any kind of activity that was happening in the shady club that her son owned. She made it to the office and saw the door was wide open.

"Syd?!" Lucy cried out to him as she appeared in the door way, taking in the two men in the room and the state Syd was currently in. Seeing the gun against his head, Lucy shook her head and took cautious steps forward. Holding up her hands, "Shhhh...hey, Syd. Hand me the gun, love. I'm here." She looked to Jackson, his presence not rendering surprise from her, "Jackson's here." Lucy place one foot forward towards Syd as she started to round the desk.

"You don't want to do this. I know you don't want to do this. Deep breaths. Focus on me, okay?" Her voice was slow and cautious her hands opening and reaching in front of her as she offered to take the gun from him. "You have so much to live for Syd. So much more life to live. Roxie and the baby need you, remember? You were so excited? I know I should have been and I'm so sorry. But I want to make things right. Please, give me that chance...give yourself that chance."

with: Syd Pyroclast Pyroclast ; Jackson Enzyme Enzyme
mentions: Sinead Misty Gray Misty Gray ; Ali Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess
 
Jackson McCarthy

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A slight smile formed on Jackson's face as Syd said his name. It had been too long since he'd seen the kid and despite the circumstances, hearing Syd's voice sent a tidal wave of memories to wash over Jackson. Suddenly he was in the opulent gardens of the old Porter estate, the summer breeze rushing through the openings of his coat. There was Syd, white tape wrapped around his balled fists in a novice manner. The two swayed back and forth as the boy glided through the punching routine with the grace of a leaf slicing through the wind. Jab. Cross. Hook. Cross. Uppercut. He was getting it and he knew he was. The smile grew on Syd's face as he began to pick up the pace, holding more confidence as he threw each punch at the air with conviction. Jackson held a smile of his own. The boy was gifted.

The gunshot ripped the illusion of his memory like the tearing of a sheet of paper. Jackson's eyes shot to where the loud explosion had erupted. Luckily the bullet had hit the champagne bottle, leaving nothing but the glass neck behind.

Jackson dropped the remaining piece of the bottle, raising his hands by his chest. "Easy, mate, easy. It's me, I promise." Jackson stepped closer, keeping his movements slow and perceptible. "I don't know what's goin' on 'ere, but I need you to relax."

Jackson stopped a few feet away from Syd, his eyes trailing from the smoking firearm back to the boy's eyes. "Whatever's goin' on," Jackson started, lowering his hand, "this ain't it." He shook his head, a look of sincerity looming from his expression. "That's running from your problems when you've been cornered, mate. Men made of steel, men like us, Syd - we don't run away." Jackson ran his hand across his heavy coat, pushing the foaming liquid off of him. "Death means a lot to an Irish bloke. It ain't a card you play when you feel like you've got nuffin' left in your hand. When you're ready to face the end, you go out for somethin' you believe in. It's the ultimate sacrifice, not a cheap escape."

Just as he finished his sentence, he felt the wind blow against him as a woman sprinted in. The look of the rugged blonde hair from the back of her head confirmed it's correspondent. He hadn't seen Lucy in over four years, but he was sure she wasn't in the mood to catch up. Seeing the emotional wreckage taking place, Jackson stepped back. This was now between a mother and her son.

Pyroclast Pyroclast (Syd) Bellz Bellz (Lucy)
 
Rachel Harris

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When Mitch brought his attention to her, Rachel pressed her hands on the edge of the bar, putting some weight against it as she leaned forward a little to properly hear him.

"Ohh. So you think I brighten the place up, do ya? Let's keep that quiet, else Conor might change his mind about me having this place redecorated next week," she joked. "I'm afraid I only have myself to blame for how busy I might be. Conor's got enough work to do, so I offered to manage the place for him," she explained.

She wasn't oblivious to Mitch's fidgeting, but Conor's close proximity was preventing her from pointing it out, knowing full well the Sullivan man would likely tease them about it. Not that Rachel cared what her boss did, but she wasn't sure if Mitch would find it embarrassing. One thing she was sure of, was Mitch was being slightly awkward, as he had the previous week, but she didn't want to risk confronting him about it.

"One beer, coming right up!" she said. She took her hands off the bar and took a step back, but stopped herself from turning away from Mitch when he continued to speak. She lightly rested her right hand back on the bar as she listened to the lawyer's next words. He asked her if she wanted to go out for a drink and she couldn't help the soft smile that grew on her lips. She'd had a feeling he was building up to saying something along those lines, but she'd wanted to let him speak up on his own terms.

"As luck would have it, my late shift is tomorrow, so I finish in a couple of hours," she told him. She then turned away to retrieve a pint glass before filling it with the beer Mitch had requested. Conor was nicely distracted, so she had a little time to draw her answer out. After placing the glass in front of Mitch, she sent him a wide grin and rested her elbows on the bar, once again leaning forward. "So, have you got anywhere in mind for us to have that drink together?" she asked, confirming her acceptance of his offer.

Rachel could imagine the scene now, telling Noah she was going out for drinks with a lawyer. He'd think she was winding him up before deciding she'd gone insane. But, as it happened, she didn't give much of a damn what anyone thought of how she led her life. Her brother had wasted his own life and the best thing he'd done lately was let her shake off that dodgy garage of his.

RayPurchase RayPurchase (Mitch)
 

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