Realistic or Modern A Family Affair: The Irish Mob - IC (Ended)

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Oliver listened carefully to his son’s words, noting that Adam did distrust him as well as silently blame him for the rift. Adam also thought that his father was still in guilt, which couldn’t be further from truth... But he didn’t retort, seeing no need to continue the argument between them. Silence would best suit them for now...

Luckily the pair had arrived home shortly after, melting the ice that laid waste on the journey home. Oliver slowly exited the car, one hand on the frame of the car while his other used his cane for support. By time Adam had removed his luggage, he had successfully left the car. Limping towards the front door, he entered the homestead, grateful from a break from the chilling winds outdoors.

The Morgan home had been purchased by Oliver shortly before his deployment. Three bedrooms, two floors, and a more than spacious backyard were some of it’s perks. However, Oliver only really ever enjoyed his office, which was converted from the spare bedroom... Using all of his saved money from the odd job here and there, he took out a mortgage to ease the weight of the plentiful home. But then war and politics came... And the solid 5 years away from home didn’t help much for his return, making it feel like another battlefield in its own right. But now with money being less tight than in his twenties, Oliver bought the house outright when Adam was 10, making sure his mother had no entitlement...

Oliver limped his way inside, paying little mind to Adam as he was in the kitchen, spotting the small entry hall table that held family photographs. Pausing for a moment to revel the photos, his icy eyes softened slightly as he glanced over each. Picking up his wedding photo first, before war had battered the man, he chuckled to himself. Marriage is a trap Oliver, you made a mistake there... Next going for a picture of a young Adam, no more then 3, holding a child’s drawing of what appeared to be a solider. Oliver had received the photo in Vietnam, with a lovely letter from his wife explaining the heart-warming story behind the photo...

But alas, Oliver grabbed his favorite photo of the father and son duo from the table. Oliver sat upon a simple park bench, while Adam sat sturdily in his lap. The two had been stargazing in the park, the pond had been shimmering with the reflections of hundreds of stars... Adam was no more than 8, which was before Oliver’s life with the IWU. The time in his life he tried to be the best man he could, despite the shadows of war that haunted his thoughts. But this photo showed none of the darkness he remembered of that time. Only the warm, loving connecting that he so dearly missed from the boy...
[/div][/div][/div][div class=credit]credits RI.a [/div][div class=overlay]Oliver Morgan[/div][div class=tags]Location: Oliver’s Home
Pyroclast [/div]

Darius had ignored George's attempts to defuse the situation. Although, a part of him was curious as to how George's arm was doing, not that he'd ask. "I don't care what his last name is. If he runs wit' the Porters, he's a Porter," he menacingly spat, stepping closer to Peter. He watched the man slightly inch away, apparently not interested in fighting. How typical. If a Porter didn't have someone to back them up or a weapon on hand, they were suddenly pacifists. He figured a lot of other people in Dublin County had their issues with Porters and would want to rearrange his face. He wanted to get the first shot off before he ended up holding someone's pocket.

His eyes shot to Peter as he downplayed his part in the Porters. If Peter were truly too low down the ranks for Darius to care, he wouldn't be shackled up. "Man, shut the fuck up!" Darius snarled as his fist slammed into the side of Peter's soft cheekbone. Even if he hadn't had the full range of motion, the hit would surely swell and leave a bruise within a few minutes. "Don't lie to me." The crowd behind them that had been watching reacted like animals, screeching and shouting at Darius' clean shot. This seemed only to energize him, moving for Peter's shirt collar. He roughly pulled him off the bench, so they were staring eye to eye. "You're not gonna' last a month in here wit' me."

Before Darius could strike him again, the loud siren sounded, indicating that it was time to return inside. Guards marched out, banging their wooden sticks against the inner metal fencing. "Alright, lineup! Back to your cells!" Darius instantly dropped Peter as everyone behind him dispersed. His deathly stare didn't move off Peter as he slowly returned to the lineup, his tongue pressing against his lower cheek.

Bellz (Peter) Misty Gray (George)

Jackson's feet skidded across the sewer line as he rounded the sharp corner. His pounding feet caused the vile water to shoot up to his legs and coat the side of the already diseased walls. Multiple footsteps echoed behind him, although the growls and snarls they emitted didn't resemble anything human. He could feel the feral eyes pinned on his back, desperate to sink their glistening claws into his exposed back. A barred opening was visible from the top of the sewer, the moonlight rays beaming through the narrow openings. Coming to a dead end, he had no choice but to move for the thin bars. He pressed his foot against the side of the sewer and launched himself up to the opening. His fingers wrapped around the grimy bars, coated in slime. The sludge almost caused both hands to slip, leading him to reaffirm one of his grips and look below.

He could barely make out the creatures dark, brittle skin. Their most visible feature where their pale, pupilless eyes. They had begun to climb on top of each other to attempt to pull him down from the bars. Seeing this, Jackson quickly snapped around and gripped both sides of the opening. He tried to use his weight to break the thin bars but to no avail. "Jackson!" One of them hissed, as it's disproportional hand wrapped around his leg. He tried his hardest to kick free, but more and more hands wrapped around his legs. He shouted in frustration and fear, using his remaining strength to hold on. It was no use, the sludge around the bars was too slippery and pushed his fingers away. He heard the creatures snarl as he fell into them, but he instead fell harshly into a body water.

As his eyes opened, he could see a familiar dock above him as he sank deeper into the water. He attempted to move his hands in front of him, but they felt as if they were bound behind him. He let out a muffled shout, bubbles streaming up by his face. "Jackson..." Something whispered in his ear softly, causing him to look around him frantically. "Jackson..." The creature made itself known in an exaggerated hiss, circling him. Its body was similar to those that had chased him, but its face horrifically resembled his old caretaker. Jackson's complete shock disabled any ability to move as the creature torpedoed towards his face with its razor sharp claws pointed up. "JACKSON!"

Jackson's eyes shot open at the feeling of Blake rolling away from him. His shocked expression lightened at the sight of where he was, his frantic breathing coming to a calm cease. Jackson closed his eyes and smiled as Blake lightly kissed his nose. He moved to rest his hand on the curvature of her back, but she insisted on getting up. He softly groaned once she walked into the bathroom, a sign that it really was time to get up. He looked to the feathered blinds, which allowed rays of sunlight to pour through due to a slight breeze. He assumed it was later in the day then he had initially thought, but that wasn't a big enough incentive for him to roll out of bed.

Jackson clambered out of bed, with only cotton pants to hold any resemblance of warmth. He made his way to the bathroom, pressing his hands against the top of the door frame to hold his weight. At the suggestion of lunch, Jackson shrugged lightly. He could definitely eat, but it was the idea of day drinking that got him. He slowly moved towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist, looking at their reflection in the tall mirror. Most of his facial wounds had healed, reminding him of the concussion that hadn't bothered him in the past few days.

He squeezed her closer to him, planting a kiss on the side of her cheek. "You have such a way with words, y'know that?" He jokingly whispered in her ear. "As for a good drink with some alright food, Mcguckins should be open." He released her, moving for the bag of clothes he had in the corner of her room. At some point, he'd have to go back to the Porters, but he knew he'd be wrapped into another mission the moment he stepped foot on their property. He wasn't afraid of what could happen, nor was he intentionally dodging James, he was just enjoying his week off. He knew the reality of their situation would come barreling at him once he was officially 'back'. He hadn't even seen Sinead since Peter had gotten himself arrested.

Bellz (Blake)

Carter walked through the mostly vacant cafe with a platter of coffee drinks. One of the coffees on the tray sizzled unnaturally but boiled down to a calm surface by the time he reached Arlene's table. "Your coffee," Carter softly spoke, resting the coffee in front of her. He moved the platter away and placed it on an adjacent table, making sure Arlene had already taken a sip by the time he returned. After he sauntered back to the table, he shared her sight of interest, the people on the street. "It's a great pass time. Observing people." He moved out the seat opposite of her and sat down. "You know nothing of them, who they are or where they're heading, but that's the fun. You allow your mind to run rampant, imagining all sorts of scenarios they're in."

He casually sipped the coffee he had brought with him, keeping his eyes on the people outside. "We've met before," He leaned slightly, shrugging, "Well, I've seen you before," he corrected himself. He took another sip of the coffee once more, before placing it on the table. "I wasn't sure what Grace was doing with a Porter, but she was drawn to you." He turned to her, offering her a friendly smile.

He let out a soft chuckle in contemplation. He then turned his head to her, parting his lips to ask a question. "James is in a rough spot. What is he doin' bringing relatives out?" He laughed once more at the preposterousness. "I mean, stoking the fire the way he is," He slowly shook his head, his eyes tracing up to hers. "He's basically asking for it."

Misty Gray (Arlene)

Arlene broke away from her thoughts as she heard the male voice speak up to announce the arrival of the coffee she'd ordered. She turned her head, glancing to the coffee before looking up to the man who had delivered it. "Thank you," she replied to him, flashing a brief smile. She took a sip of the warm drink and focused her attention back to the view outside, still holding the coffee mug in her hand. She didn't get to look outside for long before Carter returned to her table and pulled out the vacant seat opposite her. She placed the mug down and quickly stretched over the table to retrieve her bag from on the chair. "Well, my bag was actually sitting there, but alright..." she sarcastically remarked. Still, as Carter sat down, she sent a curious smile his way and hung the bag on the bag of the chair she was seated on.

As the man started up conversation about observing people, she remained silent until he had finished speaking. She figured he was one of the chatty locals - the kind you only end up getting stuck with in quieter towns or areas. In the big cities, people tended to be in a rush and too busy to strike up conversation with others, especially not caring to be pleasant to strangers. She was still deciding if she'd prefer that lack of interaction right now. "You're right. I find it to be quite an interesting pastime. I'm sure I've already seen a man who's cheating on his wife and a woman eyeing up the florist," she remarked. Her thick, pure New York accent would stand out to him, showing no Irish dialect.

When the man said they'd met before, Arlene's attention suddenly fixed only on him, her focus having been shared with the view outside up until that point. She took another sip of her coffee as she studied his face, finding nothing familiar about him despite her always making a point of remembering the faces of everyone she met. When he clarified to say he'd seen her before, she put the mug dow. Folding her arms on the table, she leaned forward so her words could be more direct to him. "Ah, so you know Grace? What can I say? I helped the poor girl when things turned sour at the parade." The way he'd said 'with a Porter' bugged her for some reason. "Poor thing was terrified because some dumb fucks tried to kill the Commissioner," she pointed out.

Then Carter mentioned James and it confirmed to her that the guy seated opposite was affiliated with the IWU. "Where I go is my own business. If you've got an issue with James, how about you give him a call and arrange a meeting? From what I've heard, you and your friends are a bunch of pussies, too scared to settle things face-to face," she calmly, but coldly, told him. Leaning in the way she was worked in her favour, to allow herself to keep her voice low enough for nobody else to hear any venom she was spitting. "And I definitely haven't seen you before. I'd remember those fucking beady eyes of yours." She sat back and looked him over once more, scoffing in his face. "Why don't you just scurry off back to that prick boss of yours? You don't intimidate me," she said, sending him a humoured smirk.

Enzyme (Carter)

Carter had moved his attention from Arlene, focusing back on the pedestrians outside. He had again picked up his coffee to sip casually. It seemed as if he were doing his own analysis of the crowd, half listening to Arlene's empty insults. Once she appeared to be done, he smacked his lips with delight of the coffee and rested it back on the table "I can tell you're related to them by the way you choose to speak. So..." He looked off to the ceiling as he thought of an adjective that would best suit. "Unintelligent." He shrugged lightly, kicking his feet up on the table. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing her from a lower level. "You sound like James' daughter. Boy, was she singing a different tune by the end," He chuckled, shaking his head.

"I've done my research, you're not just like them, even if you want to be." Carter looked at his watch to inspect how much time he still had. His beady eyes looked back up to Arlene, accompanied by a smile. "It amazes me how little you know, how little they've chosen to share with you." He could see her eyelids start to droop, her shoulders unable to hold her straight posture. He sat up now, leaning in closer to the table. "Thing about me is, you aren't intimidated until it's too late."

He looked off to the IWU men as they stepped out from the kitchen's double door. They held zip ties, one carrying a burlap sack. The others in the coffee shop looked on, unwilling to intervene. Carter's head slowly turned back to Blake. "You will understand soon," He could see the struggle within her to stay awake, to fight what was inevitable. "Who knows, you might even see the light." His departing words weighed heavily with malice.

Misty Gray (Arlene)

Arlene shook her head as Carter suggested she wasn't intelligent, or at least she wasn't sounding that way. When he continued t speak, mentioning Delilah, Arlene sat forward again. There was a look of hatred in her eyes as his words registered with her. "Wow. So that was you? I've seen sick and disturbing before... What you did to her was pretty hideous and you find it amusing? You must be messed up in the head if that's how you get your kicks."

Carter then claimed to have researched her, evoking a dry laugh from the blonde. "You, Sir. You are deluded if you think you know anything about me. Trying to make me doubt my own family, really? You're an amateur and you're wasting your time with whatever... whatever this... is," she trailed off. She could usually go on arguing and debating all night, but something wasn't quite right. Retorts and snarky comments usually flowed naturally out of her. As her eyelids began to feel heavy, she used her fingertips to rub them. She heard Carter mention something about it being too late, but she had turned away to reach for her bag, ready to remove herself from the situation rather than stick around to argue as she usually would. In her fatigued state, she lacked the energy to even touch the handle of her bag and she instead turned back to face Carter. As she tried to push herself up out of her chair, she barely lifted herself a few inches before slumping back into her seat, struggling to move much at all.

Arlene was sure Carter was still speaking, but all she could hear was a muffled echo mixing itself with the ambient background noises. She noticed the other men approaching, but felt detached from the situation, like she was in some intense dream and they weren't really there. She'd been very drunk in the past, but this felt very different. The last real thought she managed to construct was that she'd been drugged, but when she tried to voice that to Carter, an indistinguishable mumble was all that escaped her lips. She instinctively rested her elbows on the table so she could hold her face in her hands - anything to try block out her blurred vision and the intense feeling of neediness. Her thoughts were trying to form together to berate herself for being so stubborn about not telling her family where she was staying. This was overshadowed as she lost any control over herself and seemingly fell unconscious at the table...

Enzyme (Carter)

George listened on as Peter responded to Darius in an apparently sarcastic manner. He was sure this wasn't going to end well, but at the same time, it didn't look like the newcomer was looking for a fight. Unfortunately, he'd probably simply attracted one by his family ties alone. When Darius stepped closer to Peter, George sat up straight from what had been a casual, slouched position. He winced as Rogers punched Peter in the face. "Woah, okay..." he halfheartedly spoke up, looking around to make sure none of the guards were watching. Whilst he didn't condone the violence and felt bad for Peter's nice face, he also didn't want to see young Darius get himself into more trouble. The lad had a short temper that he hadn't yet managed to reign in and George worried that's what would keep him stuck in jail throughout his best years. The same years George himself had wasted behind bars.

When Darius pulled Peter to his feet, George reflexively stood up too, but didn't move closer, knowing he could cause more trouble by physically intervening. Thankfully, the siren sounded and he no longer felt compelled to butt in. "Ahh, saved by the bell!" he spoke under his breath. As Darius walked away, George looked closely at Peter, making sure he was good to go. "Follow me, Peter. Best just get into line quickly before you draw unwanted attention to yourself," he said, referring to the attention of the guards. It was easier for them to turn a blind eye if Peter just got into line, rather than stand out like a sore thumb and invite their questioning, which he would be a fool to answer. "It's visiting time soon and I'm not missing out on mine today," he said, before walking to his position in line.


Bellz (Peter) Enzyme (Darius)

Peter hadn’t been expecting the punch. He wasn’t one to normally anger easily or even one to hold grudges, but Darius was now finding himself on Mr. Callahan’s shit list. His head snapped back with the punch before he spun his head back around. The crowd was loud and ready for a fight. Darius pulled him up to his feet roughly and just as Peter was preparing himself for a beating, the glorious sound of a siren suddenly made the man drop Peter like he was nothing. Peter stood on his feet and straightened out his spine. He watched as the man stared him down, making his way to the lineup. Peter broke the stare and turning to George who was giving him a once over. ”I can take a hit.” Was all Peter mumbled before his hand went to his cheek, the stinging sensation was now turning into a numb dull throb, a nice shiner.

Peter follow George’s advice and quickly shuffled into line with the rest of them. He continued to rub as his cheek as they all shuffled towards the large metal doors that led to the inside of the prison. Peter kept his head down for a long moment as he tried to register what just happened to him. After a long moment, he looked up and behind him to George. ”Visiting hours? You mean I won’t be complete isolated like I was during my time in the holding cell?” It was another sarcastic comment. If he wasn’t careful, his mouth was going to get him into more trouble than it was worth. Shuffling along in line, he wondered if Sinead knew about such visiting hours. He missed his wife so much and after this first day, seeing her bright and smiling face would most likely be the only thing to keep him alive in here.

”I don’t think I’ll get an visitors, mate.” He said to George in honesty, his guilt evident in his voice as he looked ahead of him again. He doubted his wife wanted anything to do with the likes of him anymore. Sinead wasn’t someone who dated a criminal. Peter suddenly let out a laugh at the thought, now he was calling himself a criminal? It was a joke really, he was always a criminal and always would be. Whether he had been arrested or not, he would always break the law. Wincing, Peter rubbed at his cheek again wondering what Darius had against the Porters. A lot of people had something against them but something about what he did seemed far too personal. ”Got any explanation for what happened back there?” He asked George, wondering if he had insight on Darius.


With: George Misty Gray
Mentions: Darius Enzyme

Conor's comments about turning over James' Bentley to Sinny amused Ryan as he knew there would be no way in hell that James would let it happen. Still, it made him think about possible substitutes for Sinead should she ever need to actually need a vehicle, for whatever reason. Ryan's gaze soon fell upon Conor's Imperial. As of late, it had just been sitting there in the garage. Sure, the passenger door had a rough imprint of Ryan in it but the car was otherwise in fine shape and there was a replacement door sitting in the parts closet. Returning to the task at hand, his attention now back to the Chevy now that it was high enough off the ground to remove the tire. Before removing the lugnuts, Ryan put a jack stand under the chassis. Due to years of experience, the tire was off in about a minute and the cause of the grinding noise was apparent before Conor came back with a rather large box from the closet. While he doubted that there would be anything helpful in the box, Ryan moved walked over to it and rifled through it to make sure. He was so absorbed in sifting through the parts that he almost didn't hear Conor even though the man was standing right next to him.

Ryan didn't look at Conor when he responded to his gratitude of not turning him away, he instead busily put the miscellaneous parts back into the box. "Well, it's kind of my job around here, to fix cars among other things. So I couldn't very well turn you down, especially since it's for Princess Sinny." His voice started of matter of fact but shifted to dour tone as the guilt of being partially responsible for Peter and Sinead's current predicament ate at him. Ryan knew it was in the past and impossible to change but he couldn't help but feel like he could of handled those two initial Gardai instead of running and Peter wouldn't be incarcerated and James wouldn't have a missing spot in his garage. The passing doubt left a dark look on his face was found himself staring at the box of parts in front of him. Figuring that now was a good of time as any other, mainly because while he wasn't completely sure of Sinead view of him and being in conflict with just one Sullivan was more than enough fun for Ryan let alone two, so he let loose a heavy ragged exhale and looked to Conor before laying it all out. "Look. I'm sorry for picking a fight. I know you didn't mean to cause harm by being in a relationship with..." He paused for a second as he didn't want to say her surname but wasn't familiar enough to call her by her first name. "...that woman, but it happened and I reacted harsher than I probably should have. I'm not going to continue to hold it against you but don't expect me and her to be friends."

The apology hung in the air for almost a minute before Ryan forced his attention back the current problem. While the source of the grinding was indeed not the brakes like Ryan suspected, it wasn't as bad as he thought. The problem was that Dublin, being a seaside city, had air was more corrosive to metal than if it had been say Chicago. This wouldn't normally be a problem as any oxidation would be rubbed off by regular application of the brakes before it did any damage. However, with its lack of a useage, the rust had eaten away small pockets of the wheel rotor. It wasn't until Conor had used it that the oxidized metal disintegrated away and left an uneven surface and the resulting grinding noise. While the rotors would need to be replaced, the current ones could be grinded down and new brake pads would make the car drivable until the replacements arrived. However, while the James' garage had all the necessary tools for minor repairs and maintenance, it didn't have the space required to house the large piece of machinery needed to make the precise adjustments to the rotors and so he'd have to take them to a machine shop or a similar place that had said machine. Regardless, it was going to take a day, perhaps two, and then about a week before the replacement parts arrive.

While he conveyed this information to Conor, Ryan grabbed an almost empty of whisky and passed it to him. He wasn't sure that the man completely understood due to his lack of passion in the matter and so summarized what needed to be done after accepting the bottle back and draining the last of it. "Oof. Basically, the rotors need to taken to a shop and Sinny needs to know that her vehicle is going to be out of commission for a day or two. Since your woman just got out of the hospital, I'll take care of this and Sinny. You go tend to her and your kid." He gave a Conor an awkward grin as he jerked his head towards the door. There wasn't much Conor could help with anyways and their frayed friendship wasn't going to be fixed in a day. So right now, what Ryan wanted more than anything was space and little time to compose himself before going to see the Sullivan turned Callahan.


It wasn't long after Conor left the garage and Ryan found himself standing at the entrance to the Callahan house. He knew the kids were over at the Porter's because it was hard to not hear them as they were escorted by their nanny between the two homes and he had seen Finn's car in the driveway when he and Conor went to get Sinead's car. Yet the house seemed abandoned at a glance as there were no signs of life and there wasn't smoke coming from the chimney. From what he'd picked up from the others, it sounded as though Sinny was unlikely to answer the door and so he was unsurprised when the door was unlocked after knocking loudly. "Hello?" He bellowed into the crack of the door he'd partially opened and knocked a few more times before entering. The house was cold and reminded Ryan of a time when he was checking abandoned homes back in Korea. Ignoring the false sense of impending doom, he made his way to the main living room, if nothing else but to start a fire and warm the house up.

Finn's voice was easily heard as he approached the room and was followed by meek sound that could only be resident of the house. "Howdy, Doc." Ryan address the man that had treated the wound on his shoulder that had been healing nicely over the course of the week. He had seen Sinead almost immediately but scanned the room in an empty attempt to identify someone else as her. But when no substitute that could be found, he pointed at the puddle of flesh was curled up on the couch. "Is this Sinny? Because this doesn't look like the Princess I know." The rhetorical question was direct at Finn and he quickly stepped closer to the red-headed mess and poked it's forehead gently. "I'd like to speak to her Majesty about something and so if you would let her know that Sir Donahue would like address the lady..." Ryan's initial disdainful look was grossly overshadowed by his playful tone and a stupid grin started to stretch across his face. He wasn't great at pep talks but he wasn't going to just let the cheery girl of his past melt into whatever this was.

Misty Gray [Conor + Sinead] Bellz [Finn]

George had picked up on the sarcasm in Peter's response about visiting, but chose to ignore it. He figured the guy was still getting his bearings and trying to settle into the shock of being in the place. He just hoped he wouldn't take the tone with the wrong guy, knowing some of them weren't quite so understanding or patient. As they walked inside, everyone maintained a single line, with George leading the way for Peter. He turned to look back at his cellmate and spoke in a lower voice. "No visitors?" he asked. "Haven't you got anyone on the outside missing you, then?" He looked forward just in time to see they were at their cell. "Number 39, mate. Our humble abode!" he drily informed Peter. He'd heard the question about what had just happened with Darius, but thought it best to respond once out of others' earshot.

As he stepped into the cell, Peter would see the two beds at each side of the cell, with about a gap of about three feet between them. Directly to his left, next to the doorway, were a basic toilet and sink, with a grubby mirror attached to the dull brick wall. "Your bed," George said, pointing to the left bed which had a pillow and a couple of folded sheets sitting on top of the dirty mattress, all awaiting to be made up by Peter. George sat on the edge of his own bed and shrugged his shoulders. "This is one of the nicer cells, believe it or not," he commented. George briefly looked to the photographs he'd stuck on the wall next to where he slept. The oldest picture was of him as a teenager with his parents, sister and brother. The rest were newer and showed his siblings with their own families - nieces and nephews he had yet to meet. He hadn't seen his parents since they disowned him following his trial, but his brother and sister still came to visit him and he was thankful for at least that. George looked back to Peter with curiosity. "I don't know your circumstances, but what makes you think you won't get any visitors? From what I hear, the Porters are a close family," he said, choosing to cut out the less favourable descriptions for the mob he'd heard in the past. "You strike me as a guy who would at least have friends." Most people would only need to glance to a person's hand to look for a wedding and determine martial status, but any jewellery and valuables had been confiscated from prisoners and kept in storage.

George walked to the cell door and looked around to check no guards were around. He then rushed back to his bed and retrieved the pair of scissors he'd earlier swiped from the infirmary and strapped to his leg. He lifted his bed sheets and stuffed the scissors into the mattress, through a slit he'd made in it some time back. Once confident the scissors were well-hidden, George sat back on the bed and looked to Peter again. Rather than explain himself, he chose to finally answer Peter's earlier question.

"Darius is a member of a gang too - the Ferguson Crew. From what I understand, your guys and his guys don't get along. In fact, he's lost people he cares about. People who were killed by the Porters," he explained. "He's young and he's hot-headed, but he's also smart, so don't underestimate him." The way George spoke would give off the impression he cared about the younger man in question. Whilst they'd both had their own issues with each other since Darius' incarceration, George kept an open-mind and hoped the lad would eventually get out of prison to make something for himself.



Bellz (Peter)
Mention: Enzyme (Darius)

Syd Porter

As the couple walked towards the fair, Syd couldn't help but smile at Skye's ability to pick herself up. She never seemed short of optimism, and he only hoped it wasn't simply a façade put on for the children's sake. If her enthusiasm was an act then she was an excellent actress, but the atmosphere of the fair seemed to be overpowering any negativity that she had brought over from his aunt and uncle's house. As soon as they joined the bustling atmosphere of the fair, Syd felt the festive spirit come over him. Never having meant much to him as a child, Christmas still felt like a fresh novelty to him, its sentiment and significance amplified with each year he got to spend it with his family. Everywhere he looked there were strings of shimmering lametta and garlands dotted with shiny red berries. The rich scent of hot mulled wine drifted through the air and the festive sound of a Scott Joplin waltz playing on a nearby gavioli organ transported him to another world. He stole a glance at Skye, her skin illuminated by the soft glow of colourful lights that hung over their heads, and smiled. Unattended children ran through the scene like they owned the place, squealing with excitement and splashing through puddles left by the previous night's rain, disrupting the reflections of the illuminated street. In at atmosphere like this it was easy to forget the dangers that seemed to define the city of Dublin these days, and Syd felt lucky to be spending his day of freedom here. Skye suddenly tugged on his sleeve and turned his attention towards a shooting gallery. He grinned, knowing what she was about to ask.

"You're right! There it is," he laughed. "Goes to show you can never underestimate a kid's imagination. Alright, let's give it a go then..." Not bothering to read the sign, Syd fished in his wallet for a handful of coins and dropped them into the greasy palm of the operator. He had apparently given the man enough for three rounds, but Syd didn't care. He was busy closely watching the movements of the 10 iron soldiers as the girl in front of him tried to shoot them down, working out the algorithm by which they rotated. Back and forth they went, switching places and rotating in an upwards cycle, gaining speed with each one that was shot down. With only four soldiers left, the girl lost interest and was drawn away to her friend nearby. The operator hadn't noticed, and so Syd stepped in and took hold of the gun. It wasn't the usual .22 rifle that Syd had played before, but a handgun not too different from the one he had been training with. Perhaps that's why the girl had struggled. In both hands, he held the gun steady out in front of him and waited for the targets to go round a few times. For a moment he was focused to such a point that he could no longer hear the music or feel Skye's presence beside him. He found himself back the training grounds with his dad and treated the gun as though it were real, as though it belonged to him - and he fired off a round, striking down all four remaining soldiers in just five attempts.

The organ music came back into focus, and when he looked up the operator was giving Syd a rather strange look. He was clearly a carnie, the kind who didn't like to lose. His particular game was unlike any shooting game Syd had ever seen, seemingly engineered to confuse and put off the player. But he had paid more than the asking price, and so the man let him continue through to his first proper round. Now that he had figured out the acceleration rate and rhythm of the targets, it wasn't too difficult to win on the first go and he was soon holding Emery's rainbow cat in his hands. He stroked it for a second before passing it to Skye. "I hope she gives it some weird, magical name," he grinned.

Suddenly a young red-haired teenager bumped into him, a newspaper cone of hot roasted chestnuts in his hand, and Syd had to stop him to ask where he'd got it from.
"When I first had these, I didn't know you had to take the shells off before eating them and I ended up cutting the inside of my mouth," he laughed, now leaning against the hand-painted cart where they were being roasted. "You'd think it would be self-explanatory - I guess I was just a dumb kid." After carefully peeling the first chestnut in the cone, he threw it up into the air and caught it in his mouth. "Tell me your favourite thing about Christmas fairs, Skye. I want to see Christmas through your eyes."

Interactions
Misty Gray Skye

Conor listened as Ryan apologised for picking the fight with him a couple of weeks ago. The man then went on to explain that he wasn't about to become friends with Alex. "That's understandable," he reasoned. He couldn't force people to like others and he certainly couldn't erase any of the wounds caused by the Romanos. "I'm sorry for taking it too far... for losing control," he admitted. Along with Ryan, Conor let the silence continue so they could both allow each others' words sink in. Conor watched on as the mechanic took a closer look at Sinead's car to figure out what was causing the problem.

Conor took a sip of the whisky before handing the bottle back to Ryan. The mechanic then explained the problem in terms Conor could easily understand. "Ah, shit. Alright..." he replied, hearing the car would be out of action for a couple of days. Ryan then suggested Conor returned to Alex and Michelle, whilst he would inform Sinead of the car issues. "Sounds fair," he remarked. He returned a small grin of his own but it soon faded. "Tread carefully, though. Tinkerbell might be little, but she can be scary when she's pissed off."

Sinead heard the knocking at the door, but had chosen to ignore it. She wasn't sure if she had the heart to turn anyone else away or the strength to listen if it was her mother bluntly ranting at her like she would have in the past. Soon enough, the visitor made himself known and Sinead was quite surprised to see Ryan standing there. It wasn't that he was unwelcome, but there were other people she'd been expecting more than him. That was, until she remembered she'd upset her children, pushed Skye away and likely Lucy was now busy patching up the fallout from that.

Sinead pulled her knees into her chest and folded her arms around her shins, only know acknowledging the room temperature and that she was actually cold. She watched as Ryan looked around the room, because vocalising his apparent confusion about not recognising her right now. She couldn't fault him for that, seeing as she barely recognised herself. She wanted to be blunt with him, but the way he was referring to her as a princess was threatening to evoke a smile from her. Though one could argue she still comes across in such a way, it especially took her back to when she was younger and wished or pretended she really was a princess. That brought her mind to a few years later and though she wasn't a child anymore, she was still relatively oblivious to the real nature of her father's business. She remembered Ryan would stop by to hang out with Conor or the two would go out on jobs for Emmet. She just looked to Ryan as a friend of the family and as he was close to Conor, she got to know the guy too. So, she struggled to turn him away now and certainly trusted he wouldn't lie to her.

"Well, Sir Donahue..." she began. Her tone was flat, making it difficult to know if she was playing along or talking in a stern manner to him. Her next words would possible shine some light on that. "I would like to ask you a question first..." she said. She knew he had something to say to her, but she wanted to say what was on her mind before Ryan distracted her with something else. "You were there with Peter last week, when the cops showed up... James told me what happened and that Peter stepped up to take the heat off the fact you guys had a man stuffed in the trunk." James hadn't gone into detail about Gary's fate and Sinead really didn't want to know. "I believe James told me the truth, so I'm not asking you to call him out on anything. But he's the Boss and he might not realise if his men are left with no choice. If he's being indirectly forceful." Sinead sighed before looking Ryan in the eyes. "Was it Peter's own choice to get the cops off your backs?" Her face remained soft as she tried to show that she only wanted the truth and to know she wasn't being left in the dark, as she always had been when growing up. "Just a simple answer and then you can tell me what it was you came here to say," she reassured him.

Fletchawk (Ryan) Bellz (Finn)

It saddened him to see Sinny hurting in such a way and her state reminded him vaguely of his time in Korea. Ryan had seen soldiers and civilians alike shut down from the loss of friends, family, and home, and he fought to keep the smile on his face as he watched the woman curl up into a fetal position. Years ago, Ryan had always been the young one tagging along behind James, Conor, and the rest of the crew and he admired them almost as much as his father but Sinead was special. She was always the cheery one, the one that remained bubbly regardless of the mood around her and served as a beacon for everyone. It wasn't surprising that Ryan had a bit of thing for Sinead, as it was hard to not love her, but time, loss, and war had tempered Ryan. While he no longer harbored that kind of affection for her, he still had a soft spot for her and her pain affected him more deeply than he let on.

So when she inquired about what happened that night, Ryan knew that he could keep nothing from her. He knelt down alongside the couch and slowly took her hands that were hidden inside the sleeves of her sweater in his and tried his best to explain the situation as he knew it to have happened. "To be honest, Sinny, I don't know what was going through Peter's mind at that moment and I didn't hear what he said to the Coppers when he started talking to them. All I know is things went FUBAR really quick and I was told to drive. After that, I don't know what happened to Peter other than he got pinched." Ryan paused before slightly increasing the firmness of his grip and stood up, pulling Sinead gently from the nest she'd settled into before continuing in a quiet, soft tone. "What I do know is that while the job could've gone better and we'd be all be sitting here no worse for wear, life rarely deals a fair hand and so shit happens, things go wrong, and bad things happen. We try to do our best to make sure bad things don't happen to us, but life finds a way and all we can do is play the hand we're dealt. Yes, Petey got clapped and I'll tell you what my Ma told me when my Pops visited the slammer for year. He's gone but he's not gone forever. Now Petey has got six months, probably less with him being the angel that he is. Yes, it'll be hard without him here, but Sinny..." Ryan put a bit more effort into pulling the ginger haired woman upright and on to her feet before continuing. "...Pete is coming back. All you need to do is hold yourself together until then. I know you miss him and that all the more reason to go see him, yeah? Besides, I'm sure he'll tell you all about what happened when you see him." Ryan forced his smile a little wider, hoping that some of it would jumpstart the once lively woman before him. "So how about it, your Majesty? Why don't you go gussy yourself up and show ol' Pete what waiting for him once he comes back?"

He then let go of the sleeves that covered her hands and made a very poor reenactment of a bow that he'd seen a few weeks ago. "However, your carriage is currently in disrepair for a day or two." He then turned towards Finn, remembering his car in the driveway. "Perhaps, if it's not too much trouble to escort the lady while I focus on fixing her vehicle?" He doubted that Finn would say no, but Ryan's mind was still weighing out possible options should the doctor be otherwise unable to.

Misty Gray [Sinead] Bellz [Finn]

Finn’s heart had broken as he heard Sinead speak. It sounded empty, lacking the tone that made her the sweet little song bird she was. He was pleased to hear that Sinead wanted him to come with her to visit Peter. He was about to answer Sinead’s question about an outfit choice when Ryan entered the room, greeting him. Finn nodded towards him with a smile,”Ryan.” He said in a friendly greeting. He watched curiously as the man began searching around the room, looking like he was looking for someone else when Sinead was right in front of them. Finn cracked a smile at Ryan’s words and looked to Sinead, hoping that she would respond positively, giving them some hope that the real her was in there.

She played along, but quickly after, she had questions for the man. Finn listened painfully as she asked him if Peter willing lead the police off their backs. Finn looked back and forth between the two of them, wondering if things would turn sideways for whatever reason. Tapping his foot lightly in a nervous manner, luckily, Ryan answered honestly and offered a few words of wisdom. He was right and Sinead had to have known that from the beginning. When Ryan turned to him, ”Of course, anything for the lady.” Finn said with a smile before turning to Sinead again. She had asked him a question about her wardrobe and he had enough time to give the answer he would give some serious thought. ”You know what Sinny, I really think you should just go as you. Yes get all dressed up, but I think he is also just going to be relieved to see you.” He looked to Ryan a moment with a smirk before smiling at Sinead again. ”Prison doesn’t tend to have a lot of women,” The statement was only half true; Prison didn’t have women at all.

”I mean you could be wearing garbage can and I think Peter would still be unable to keep his eyes off of you!” He chuckled before clapping his hands together, ”Alright missy! Unless you want me picking your outfit out for you, I suggest you go and get ready!” Walking forwards and taking her hands he couldn’t keep the smile from his features. Despite feeling so terribly sorry for Sinead and Peter, he had to keep Sinead in a positive and upbeat attitude. He wasn’t a psychiatrist but from he had learned briefly about the mind and how psychology worked. Sinead couldn’t afford to be down for very long, because of her disorder, she wouldn’t be able to get back up for weeks or even months. ”Oooo I can even make you a drink if you want, to calm your nerves?”
With: Sinead Misty Gray ; Ryan Fletchawk
mentions:

Chuckling at Jackson's comment about her words, "Fuck yea I do.", she hummed in agreement as he squeezed her closer to him, welcoming his warm skin against her back and the soft kiss on the cheek. Resting the back of her head against his shoulder, she smiled at their reflection. Jackson had escaped the Porter's for a bit which Blake was in agreement with as soon as he mentioned spending some time at her place. He need some time to heal and relaxation. She stretched her calves out, standing on her tip toes slowly as she continued to watch him in the mirror. Finishing her stretch and resting her feet back on the floor, he released her to move towards the bag that sat in the corner of her room. Blake looked towards the bag a moment , turning her head away from the mirror. A thought popped into her head and she wondered if it was too soon or too bold to ask him such a thing. As happy and as passionate as they were for each other Blake couldn't help but wonder how serious was too serious for Jackson.

Grabbing a brush from the top drawer, she parted her hair down middle and began brushing the left side, "Mcguckins it is." Blake said to Jackson finally before continuing to brush out her hair. After taking care of her hygiene, Blake moved through the open doorway of the bathroom and walked towards her dresser. Moving the straps of the night slip she wore past her shoulders, she let her slip fall past her shoulders and hips before it fell to the floor. Stepping out of the slip, she picked it up and set it the hamper . Opening her drawer, she picked out a casual outfit for the day and got dressed. Looking at her top drawer, she bit her lip before deciding to go with her gut. "You know that bag is just hideous sitting in the corner like that. Takes away from the decor of the room," She placed her hands together awkwardly actually feeling nervous , really nervous.

Blake cleared her throat and shook her head at her behavior, placing a hand over her eyes in embarrassment. "Son of a-" She huffed out and shook her head some more. "I mean," She threw down her hand and rubbed it nervously against her thigh. "I have a drawer if you ever want to...you know, leave clothes or whatnot." Blake looked to Jackson her eyes widening only slightly as she awaited his answer.
With: Jackson Enzyme

Carter took one last sip of coffee as Arlene's head vanished into her folded arms. He tilted his head lightly as he placed the coffee mug on the counter. "She's got spunk," he admitted as he stood up and untied the apron from his waist. "Too bad she wasted all her energy talkin'. Could've made a run for the door." He shook his head as he neatly placed the apron beside the coffee mug. The IWU thugs moved to her side to secure her. With Arlene subdued, it didn't take them much time at all to slip the zip tie around her hands and pull the bag over her head. Arlene was light enough for one of the thugs to place her over his shoulder and carry her through the kitchen doors. Outside was an idling van in the alley, which sped off once they were all inside.

Arlene was dragged through the garage of the Textile Factory. After sending one of the thugs to inform Gideon, Gideon gave the men the all-clear to take her to the vacant apartment, far above the ground floor. Carter had remained by their side, casually walking with them as they made their way through the narrow hallway. The flats had initially been built for the factory's employees, so it held only the bare essentials inside. Panels of glass aligned the wall, it's view just clearing the obstructing factories ahead. "Here's as good as any," Carter confirmed as the men placed her down. They moved a chair out in the center of the floor and secured her zip ties to the handrails.

Arlene's body slightly resisted in confusion, as the drugs slowly began to wear off. Carter snapped his fingers and motioned for one of the thugs to remove the burlap sack. He crouched down to her level and patiently waited for her eyes to adjust. "There she is," he said with a smile, once her dazed gaze fell on him. "I know you've got a lot of questions and I'll be more than happy to answer them. I'll start off first with an apology - you haven't been involved enough to deserve to be targeted," he said sincerely, his facial expressions turning more serious.

"As for you duration here, I'm not the one calling the shots, so I can't help you there." He stood back up, looking around at their surroundings. "This is probably as comfortable as we could keep ya'. You'll be living a little better than the average Dublin citizen, so if you're used to Porter's estate, I'm sorry." He shrugged, remaining serious despite his stab at the luxuries of the Porters. "I'll be watching over ya' for a... Well, for as long as you end up being here." He looked to his men beside him. "C'mon, I shouldn't have to ask for you lot to cut her free." The men immediately did as they were told, cutting her loose from the chair.

Misty Gray (Arlene)

Sinead's eyes followed Ryan as he knelt down and took her hands. She gave up little resistance, a mixture of her ongoing lethargy and wanting to hear her friend out. She listened carefully as he began to speak, paying attention to see if there were any hints of lies or sugar-coating. As his grasp tightened a little, she nodded her head to show she was hearing him out and then looked up to keep watching him as he stood. She still wasn't sure if she wanted to move from the couch or not. He made it clear things didn't work out as planned and Peter getting arrested was never part of the plan that night. She relaxed a little, allowing her stiffness to ease off as he reminded her that Peter's current position was only temporary, even if it would be difficult. "I know..." she said, her words only managing to break out in the form of a whisper. Ryan put more enthusiasm behind his intention to get Sinead up to her feet and this time she didn't fight it, instead standing up from the couch for the first time in a few hours. "You're right. I know. He's coming back. I need to stop being stupid," she said, almost berating herself in the process. "Everyone keeps telling me I'm strong and I can do this, and I know I should be able to. But then my brain starts overthinking again and before I know it, I'm imagining the worst. My babies were sitting here today, asking me all of these questions and wanting to hear everything's okay, but all I could do was feel sorry for myself." She took a deep breath and glanced between the two men. "But you're both right. I need to get my act together and I need to go see Petey." She was about to rub her eyes before she realised she wasn't even crying. Either she'd used up all of her tears or she really was digging for the strength people kept insisting she had.

Sinead caught Ryan's wide smile and tried to fight it, but the slightest of smiles managed to creep onto her face too. She nodded her head as he mentioned her getting dressed up and her mind began to wander back to what she should wear for the visit. But then Ryan moved the subject on to the initial reason for his visit and told her the Dreamer was in need of repair. She thought for a moment as he explained it would take a couple of days to fix it. She was about to have a rant about Conor's clumsy hands breaking her car like he'd unintentionally broken some of her toys when they were kids, but then she remembered the car hadn't been sounding that great the last time she drove it, so it really wasn't her brother's fault. "Okay..." she said, slowly nodding her head. She figured her husband and children were more important things to be worried about than fretting over her car. "Perhaps if I'd bought the pink one it wouldn't have needed fixing," she half-joked.

Finn sounded happy to go ahead and drive Sinead to the prison, so she let out an apprehensive sigh, knowing she would have to face that awful prison if she wanted to see her lovely Peter. "Okay, so I'll just go as me..." She nodded as he mentioned jail not having a lot of women. "Yeah. So maybe not quite me dressed up ready to party. I don't want those guards getting ideas and being all handsy if they have to search me. I heard they search everyone..." she trailed off, pulling a disapproving face. When Finn encouraged her to hurry up and get ready, she quickly nodded her head. She gave Finn and Ryan a hug and a kiss on the cheek each, before rushing upstairs. "Yes, please get me a drink!" she shouted back to Finn as she left.

After a short while, Sinead eventually returned downstairs, looking much more like the woman they were used to seeing. Her hair was styled into waves and she'd put on a little make-up, but not enough to hide the natural tone of her soft skin. She'd opted for a pretty blue dress which sat just below her knees so as not to show off too much skin around those at the 'creepy prison'. The outfit was finished off with a pair of black high-heels. She would down the drink Finn had made for her pretty quickly, wanting to get out of the house before she had chance to have second thoughts and back out of everything. She grabbed her shoulder bag and placed some photographs into it, before pointing to the drinks cabinet. "Shame I can't smuggle some booze in for him," she remarked. She took a deep breath before looking to Finn and Ryan. "I need to go now... before I give my brain long enough to start talking me out of this again."

Bellz (Finn) Fletchawk (Ryan)

As the drugs began to wear off, Arlene's mind soon caught up and reminded her of the hazy last thoughts she'd had back at the cafe. She remembered Carter and the realisation something had been slipped into her coffee to make her feel so tired. As she attempted to move her arms, she felt something around her wrists restraining her against the handles of the chair she was sitting it. She still felt groggy and couldn't quiet muster the energy yet to fight against the restraints. When she opened her eyes, her vision was blurred, but she persisted to blink until she could finally see more clearly. By that point it was obvious she was no longer in the cafe. "There she is," Carter spoke up and directed the woman's vision straight to him. She tightened her jaw as he continued speaking and gave some meaningless apology for dragging her into this situation despite her not been a part of the troubles in Dublin for very long. She wanted to rip the man's tongue out the more he spoke, but she knew she would have to be patient and buy herself time to come round, to regain full control of her thoughts and her reflexes.

"Where is here?" she asked, a small amount of grogginess still reflecting in her speech. "If you're not calling the shots, then it must be that pathetic wannabe mayor. Tell the coward to come here and show his face," she hissed. "You sound bitter about my family. What's wrong? Did your Mummy never buy you any toys?" she mocked him. Still, she remained calm and showed no signs of struggle or wanting to escape. "You're wasting your time. They'll come looking for me and you'll get fucked up, then I'll be out of here and you'll be dead." Despite the certainty in her voice, Arlene wasn't sure how long it would be until her family began to worry. She'd just promised to be home on Christmas Day.

When Carter told the man to cut her free, she looked to her wrists as the ties were removed from around them. She''d already assessed the room and taken note of being severely outnumbered. If there was a way for her to escape without the men drastically overpowering her, she hadn't thought of it yet. "Wow, you're a gentleman. Is this how you treat all of the ladies...um..?" she asked. She then raised as eyebrow, leaving her sentence to trail off to see if Carter would complete it by giving her his name. "And people say romance is dead," she added. She looked down to her hands as she massaged her wrists to try get rid of the sensation that the zip ties were still pressing into her skin. She then placed her hands down on her lap and took a deep breath. She opened her mouth as if about to speak again, but no sound came out. Instead, she took advantage of Carter being down at her level. Suddenly, he would feel the woman's right fist slam into the side of his face as she hit him with a strong right-hook. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" she yelled at him. Her eyes shot around the room, anticipating a retaliation. She knew she wasn't going to escape right now, but she still wanted the satisfaction of punching the bastard whilst she had the chance.

Enzyme (Carter)

Adam Morgan

After the distinctive rhythm of Oliver's walk followed Adam through the front door, the house fell quiet. Not hearing a response from his father, he supposed the air was still settling from their argument and leaned against the kitchen sink, gazing out of the window and caught in a momentary trance between the swaying of the trees outside and the gentling bubbling of water in the kettle.

Eventually Adam turned to look for his father, and found him wistfully pouring over some old family photos.
"What are you looking at?" Adam asked him as he approached the man. He took the photos one by one so he too could examine them. The first was his parents' wedding photo, which drew nothing from him. Both his mother and father seemed like wholly different people now, so much so that the photograph looked staged. He placed it face down on the end table without saying a word, and took the second in his hand, a photo of himself as a very young boy holding up a drawing. The photograph had been there in the drawer for years, yet didn't evoke any memories at all in Adam. "Is that supposed to be you?" he chuckled, pointing to the wonky soldier on the page. "I'm sorry I made you look like that."

The next was still in his father's hand, and Adam stepped closer to look over his father's shoulder. It brought a slight smile to his face, bittersweet memories coming back to him the longer he looked at it. It wasn't a very clear photograph as it had been taken at dusk and although there was a lamp post nearby, the figures of himself and his father were poorly lit. Still, he could see the smiles on their faces well enough. He remembered that day - though he supposed it could have been one of many days - perhaps more he remembered that period of his life, taken stargazing by his father. It had sparked a passion for astronomy in Adam that had stayed with him throughout his youth. Even when his relationship with his parents began to go downhill, he still retained the knowledge that they had passed down to him about the constellations.
"Remember teaching me how to navigate using the stars? You were probably worried I'd turn into a rebellious teenager and didn't want me to get lost if I snuck out at night," Adam laughed lightly. He had always been a bit too much of a goody-two-shoes for that sort of thing, even though the domestic conflict in his house had given him enough reason to rebel in his adolescence. "I still do it from time to time on my way home from a late shift, if the sky's clear enough..."

Standing at his father's side, Adam realised that the tension had now fallen away entirely. It was obvious that he looked back on those times fondly, too. The kettle called Adam back to the kitchen then, but he returned to place a hot cup of coffee on the table in front of his father shortly after. He leaned against the wall as he sipped from his own cup, watching Oliver look through the photographs.
"Good thing people only take photos of the good times, huh," Adam remarked softly. "We did have a few, didn't we?"

Interactions
ReverseTex Oliver

Tommy was happy to see Leo and Delilah 'reunited' and clearly happy to see each other again. After seeing them both injured and adding to it the atmosphere back at the Porters place, it was a welcome change to see such a happy couple. He grinned as conversation turned to beards, prompting him to wonder if every woman was interested in facial hair these days. He broke from his thoughts as Aliana took his hand and suggested they got out of the room so the teenagers could have some privacy. "Ahhh, of course. Young love!" he teased, before being dragged out of the room by the object of his own affections.

Once out of the room, Tommy walked with Aliana a little further down the corridor before stopping so he could look to her as they spoke. "It really is great to see them both happy again," he said, with a warm smile sticking to his face. "Things haven't been so great back at Del's place nor the Callahans house since what happened with Pete. Perhaps at some point today we could spin by there?" he suggested. "I know for a fact the kids miss you as they're pretty vocal about everything. Sinead doesn't say much at the moment, but I'm sure she'd like to see you too."

Tommy awkwardly scratched the back of his head and then shrugged his shoulders. "I mean... I'd like to spend some time with you first, maybe?" he asked. He wasn't sure what it was about Aliana that turned him into a stuttering pile of mush and even though he'd always been so confident around women in the past he kind of liked it. It's was interesting having to try approach things differently to what he'd been used to.

Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)

Skye stood by Syd as he handed over the coins to the man in charge of the game. She stood restlessly on the spot and allowed a hopeful smile to grow on her face as she imagined the look on Emery's face if she were to be given the rainbow cat soft toy. Skye looked to Syd and observed him as he seemed to be studying the way the targets were moving around in front of them. This focus was accompanied with him holding the gun in a certain way and she was sure knew where he'd picked up such control. She was about to make a comment about him training with his father and that she could see how much he took after James, but she really didn't want to distract Syd from the task at hand. In the meantime, a brief thought flashed through her mind as she wondered how long it would be until Syd was holding a real gun and doing jobs for real, to help his father's business.

Any serious thoughts were pushed aside when Syd completed his mission and claimed the prize. She grinned as Syd stroked the cat and commented on the kind of name Emery would give it. Skye accepted the toy and held it close to her chest, studying it for a moment before looking back to Syd. "Hmm. If we know Emmy as well as I think we do, she certainly will! Something silly, like... I don't know... Mister Sparklefluffer!" she said, following by a playful giggle.

Skye was startled when someone bumped into Syd, but she soon recovered when she realised it was completely innocent and not someone with issues towards the Porters. She walked with Syd to the chestnut cart and listened to his story about eating the shells. "Oh my... That's so dorky, but adorable. Your poor mouth," she said, pulling a sad face in memory of his minor suffering. "I think we've all done dumb stuff as kids, though," she reassured him. As Syd tossed a chestnut into his mouth, Skye quickly swooped in and swiped a chestnut from the cone for herself, sticking her tongue out when he noticed.

"My favourite thing?" Skye asked, pondering the question. "I don't know... I just love it all now as Christmas was the worst in the orphanage. I used to just close my eyes and remember the times I was here with Mum. I love the parade - all the colourful characters and the marching 'toy' soldiers. The big Christmas tree lit up at night. Santa's Grotto, cheap old toys and cheesy music." She then pointed to the ice-skating rink a short distance away. "Sinead was going to take Savvy ice-skating before Christmas and it made me realise that's something I've never done. Mum thought it was too dangerous for children. But guess what? We're not children and I so want to do that now. What do you think?" she excitedly asked.

Pyroclast (Syd)

Grace had popped into the back room of the bakery, where one of Faye's young employees was busy cleaning up. Grace didn't have to work that day, but after her father had made it clear he'd be busy all day, she decided to going in and help Jenny out for a few hours. "I'm going to go soon, Jen. I might as well take advantage of the Christmas stalls while I can, even if nobody--" She fell silent as she heard the bell sound to signal a customer had entered the shop. "I'll get it!" Grace announced, before skipping back out to the front of shop. Her smile faded as she saw Jared standing by the counter waiting to be served. Whilst she was always happy to see her father, she was still sulking with him and would do so for as long as she could without cracking. "What can I get for you, Sir?" she flatly asked.

"Ah, so we're playing this game. Alright, Madam... I'll have a chocolate brownie, please," he requested, flashing a smile for his daughter. Grace went about getting what he'd asked for, packing it in a paper bag and holding her hand out for the cash. Jared paid her, but left his purchase sat on the counter for now. "When do you finish? Perhaps you can call your brother to get you home safely."

"I'm finishing soon and I'm going straight to the Christmas fair." Grace let out a groan and rolled her eyes. "I don't see why Quinn needs to walk me home when you've had that guy outside watching me all day," she said, pointing to the man hanging around on the cobbled street. "Dad, I'm 18 and perfectly capable of getting myself around. It was never a problem last year and I was younger then."

"Lily, love. I wasn't running for Mayor last year... You know why I've got people looking out for you." Jared briefly thought of Carter's current job. When his right-hand man informed him that the Porters had been sniffing around Grace and Quinn, he wasn't about to ignore it. "Last week you were stood outside the theatre talking to members of the Porter Gang. The Mob, Lily!" he told her. "Anything could have happened to you and I won't risk that again. Please, just understand why I'm doing this."

"Ugh..." Grace let out a sigh before allowing her features to soften. She faintly smiled and nodded her head. "I know and I'm sorry. Arlene just seemed like a nice person and I didn't realise people could be so good at putting on an act." She stepped around from the counter and gave her father a hug. "Why don't you come to the fair with me?" she asked. As she pulled away, she began to unfasten her apron.

"I can't, sweetie. I have a meeting with Oliver Morgan soon. You know Oliver, don't you?" he asked.

"Yeah... Adam's dad," she said. She couldn't hide the disappointment at hearing Jared still hadn't finished working for the day and she threw the apron over the counter. "I bet Adam's dad doesn't spend every waking minute thinking about work, huh? I bet his dad spends time with him."

"Lily!" Jared groaned. "I will be home this evening, so stop with the guilt-tripping. I'm sure Quinn will be happy to accompany you home or to the fair for now." Jared tilted his head and pulled a comically sad face. Once he'd dragged a smile from his daughter, he pulled her in for another hug and kissed the top of her head. "Now, be careful and I'll be home this evening in time for dinner. And please stop sulking - it doesn't suit you when you have such a pretty smile."

Mentions: Fletchawk (Quinn) ReverseTex (Oliver) Pyroclast (Adam)

Tommy froze for a second as he realised Aliana didn't know about what happened to Peter. He rubbed his forehead and quickly nodded as he realised it made sense as she'd been so worried about Leo for the last couple of weeks. "Oh shit, yeah... Pete got busted last week. He was out doing a job with some of the guys and the pigs nicked him. James couldn't get him off the charges and now he's stuck in the slammer for six months. Sinead hasn't been taking it well at all. I mean, even worse than we could have imagined her taking it. Conor was telling me last night that she's shutting him out and won't leave the house." Despite all of the conversations he'd had with Conor, Tommy remained oblivious to Aliana's past with the guy. He placed a reassuring hand on Aliana's shoulder as he realised she might feel bad for not seeing her friend. "You've had your own troubles too, Ali. Sinead has a big family but Leo needed you here."

Tommy tucked a strand of loose hair behind Aliana's ear, realising it had escaped being included when the rest of her hair was tied up into the bun. He let his hand linger on her shoulder as he smiled at her, but then moved his arm away again. "Miss Cartwright... You're an interesting and beautiful woman. Why wouldn't I want to spend time with you?" He blushed a little as he maintained his boyish grin. "I suppose the question is, will you spend time with this poor fool?"


Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)

Seemingly everyone saw the hit coming, leaving the goons to wonder why they bothered to untie her, but even Carter agreed that it was well deserved. The mighty punch did its part in physically shaking Carter, but his face remained passive. The men quickly wrestled Arlene back to the chair, before she could follow up with another attack. Carter crouched idle, slowly nodding his head. His lips curled with a more assured nod, apparently impressed by her punch. Standing back up, he tucked his tongue into the bottom of his cheek in search of a leak. While the blow was harsh, it wasn't enough to draw blood. "Well," he started, clearing his throat. "I think I'm the last guy you wanna' punch," he softly spoke, shrugging his shoulder. "I could make your visit very uncomfortable, so why give me a reason to?"

As the men went to resecure the zip ties on her wrist, Carter raised his hand to stop them. "Please, we're in the presence of royalty." He offered her a smile, accompanied by a faint purple spot on his cheek from he'd been hit. "Let's remind her how the rest of Dublin lives down here. Nothing more, nothing less."

Carter stood straight again, having got the sarcasm out of his system. His face appeared more serious and genuine before he spoke. "We're not gonna' do anything to you - we're just keeping you here until we're done, then you're free to go." He raised his hands, driving home the point that, that was all they were going to do. "As for where you are, this apartment is identical to ours, so you've got neighbors on both walls. The tap runs water from the city's pipelines, so it's somewhat clean." He motioned to the sink in the small kitchen. "Food-wise, we'll deliver it to you twice a day. If we can trust you enough with sharp objects and fire, you can cook your own meals." He looked to the men around him to assure himself that he had given her the full rundown.

Misty Gray (Arlene)

Jackson had moved into his duffle bag to retrieve a fresh pair of clothes. After finding a suitable outfit, he tossed it upon the bed, among the clamor of sheets. "Huh, and here I thought it really brought the room together." He intertwined his fingers, smiling at her. He couldn't help but admire her figure as she slipped out of the nightgown, losing his train of thought. He lightly placed his hand on her hip and moved behind her. Stepping into the bathroom, he pulled the toothbrush from the cup. Through his brushing, he tilted his head to listen to her. In the beginning, it was unclear of where she was going. His first assumption was that she was about to complain about his messy habits. Just as he was about to crack a joke, she took a completely different direction. He stopped brushing for a second, spitting into the sink. Using the face towel, he wiped the remaining toothpaste from his mouth, before stepping back into the bedroom.

"You want me to leave clothes here?" He raised his eyebrow as he leaned against the frame of the door. "Because I know my leather jacket didn't just 'disappear' on its own." He grew his familiar smile, crossing his arms against his bare chest. Slowly making his way over to her, he found her hands. "If you really want a slob to move in with ya', just know you brought that on yourself." He lightly pressed his lips against hers. "Alright, let's get those drinks," he chuckled to her as he moved for the clothes on the bed. "Oh, and dress somewhat fancy. It's a special event tonight," He shot her a wink as he pulled the dress pants over his legs.

After getting dressed, he drove Blake down the road. Instead of pulling into Mcguckins' lot, however, he continued down the main road. The bright sign read "Chapter One" as the Cresta slowly pulled by it. The line was lengthy, stretching out to the corner of the establishment. Once they had pulled into the lot, Jackson flashed Blake a smile in acknowledgment of his deception. He opened the door for her, before tossing the keys to an eager valet. "Bit fancier than Mckgucins, I'll admit," He whispered in her ear as he interlocked his fingers with hers.

After giving the host his name, they were seated in a private quarter of the restaurant. A bottle of champagne had been laid in a bucket of ice in the center of the table. Jackson pulled the chair out and motioned for her to sit, before taking a seat himself. "I know this might not be what you wanted, but I needed a way to thank you for taking me in. A lot of women would've turned a man away if he pounded on their window in the middle of the night." Jackson started as the waiter poured them both a glass.

Bellz (Blake)

Alexandra smirked when Shannon said she would leave the alcohol for herself and Conor to bond over and smiled pleasantly when Shannon decided on coffee. After she had shared her memories, she could see the anger and hurt flicker through Shannon’s eye and Alexandra bit her lip finally understanding what her and Shannon never got on in the past, her father had done some horrible things and it hurt Alex to know that her family could have affected someone so badly, the only thing she was unsure of was if she had ever taken part in the business or was she as disgusted with it then as she was now.

“Thank you” she said warmly as the cup was placed in front of her, she stared down at the brown liquid in her cup as the stream rose and swirled from the contents. She placed her hand around the cup allowing the heat to warm up her hands but decided it was too warm to sip yet. When Shannon mentioned Savvy’s dad, Alex bit her lip having no recollection of the man that she was talking about, she wished she did and a name may have helped but by Shannon’s description of the man, Alex knew Shannon was not the one to ask. She smiled softly when Shannon suggested letting go of their past tension and Alexandra nodded “I’d love that Shannon” she said softly “I know I don’t remember and I don’t remember what kind of person I was but I know that if Conor and I ‘s relationship survived everything we went through then it must be love between us” she allowed a gentle but somewhat amused smile to pass her lips “and the fool already has me falling for him again”. She bit her lip again “I don’t want any tension between us especially since you’s are the only family I have left and as much as I hate to admit it I am in a vulnerable position at the minute”

Misty Gray