Realistic or Modern 𝐒 𝐘 𝐍 𝐃 𝐈 𝐂 𝐀 𝐓 𝐄 𝐃 - 𝐀 𝐍𝐨𝐢𝐫/𝐎𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐑𝐏 (𝐈𝐂)

[Jaellagirl]

Spoiler: Plaintext for Sean

I was awoken by the light peaking through the curtain. I had slept really good. One may even say too good. Wait what time is it? I didn't turn towards the table and tried to find the clock. Once I grabbed it and raised to look it the sight was not pleasant. It was already past noon.
"Shit! Shit! Shit! Uncle C is going to kill me!"
I felt the surge of energy fill my body and I was up before I notice. I shoved the trousers on as fast as I could and crabbed the rest of my clothes. Dressing while on the move is not that easy but it sure as hell is effective. I pulled on my shoes and off I went. I nearly ran from one house to the next. Mum and dad did not live in the same house as the rest but it didn't matter much as we were right next to each other. I had a designated room in both houses but liked living with my parents. I stormed in the door and nearly just threw off the shoes from my sockless feet. It didn't matter much I had my brush there and probably would steal some Dec's socks anyway. I headed straight to the kitchen where aunt Ro was doing cleaning up. I think I might have missed the lunch already.
"Hey aunt Ro! Can I have some food left over from the lunch?"
I kissed her cheek and started to find something until I felt her half disapproving glare.
"Hey Sunny! You overslept again, didn't you? I knew you would come so I made you something too and next time put some socks on!"
I felt felt bad but the food was too tempting so I gave her one final kiss and headed towards the dining table. By the time I had sight of it I had already shoved a bit part of my meal down my mouth and as usual Dec and uncle C where there. I swallowed the mouthful before sitting down. Both of the men looked really serious.
"Hey lads. What has happened that you have such long faces did Ada eat all the spuds?"

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/Wkdpk9c/Left-1.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"Eating is the only job that feeds"

- Sean​

[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Sean McAllister [/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Irish Dog"[/div]
[div class=title]Enforcer of O'Hallorans[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

I was awoken by the light peaking through the curtain. I had slept really good. One may even say too good. Wait what time is it? I didn't turn towards the table and tried to find the clock. Once I grabbed it and raised to look it the sight was not pleasant. It was already past noon.
"Shit! Shit! Shit! Uncle C is going to kill me!"
I felt the surge of energy fill my body and I was up before I notice. I shoved the trousers on as fast as I could and crabbed the rest of my clothes. Dressing while on the move is not that easy but it sure as hell is effective. I pulled on my shoes and off I went. I nearly ran from one house to the next. Mum and dad did not live in the same house as the rest but it didn't matter much as we were right next to each other. I had a designated room in both houses but liked living with my parents. I stormed in the door and nearly just threw off the shoes from my sockless feet. It didn't matter much I had my brush there and probably would steal some Dec's socks anyway. I headed straight to the kitchen where aunt Ro was doing cleaning up. I think I might have missed the lunch already.
"Hey aunt Ro! Can I have some food left over from the lunch?"
I kissed her cheek and started to find something until I felt her half disapproving glare.
"Hey Sunny! You overslept again, didn't you? I knew you would come so I made you something too and next time put some socks on!"
I felt felt bad but the food was too tempting so I gave her one final kiss and headed towards the dining table. By the time I had sight of it I had already shoved a bit part of my meal down my mouth and as usual Dec and uncle C where there. I swallowed the mouthful before sitting down. Both of the men looked really serious.
"Hey lads. What has happened that you have such long faces did Ada eat all the spuds?"

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/Yfmr61r/Right-1.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The O'Halloran household

With: Ro
Connor Soviet Panda
Declan StormWolf [/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[StormWolf]

______________________________________________________________________
Declan 'Prince' O'Halloran, the Sledgehammer - Lt. of the O'Halloran Family
______________________________________________________________________
Location: The O'Halloran House

Pulled pork. There was indeed a God, and He conveyed His love through Mama Rowe's cooking. Declan's money-green eyes glinted with an almost boyish joy at the luncheon spread, mouth immediately watering at the rich mesquite smell and the alluring sight of the potato buns soaking up the excess sauce. Shrugging out of his jacket, Declan had started rolling up his shirt sleeves when his father took the liberty of loading up a plate and placing it before him. Nodding in appreciation, Declan leaned back in his chair and called after Rowena,

"Thanks for lunch, Ma!" Crossing himself swiftly before eating, Declan took a mammoth bite of his sandwich since Ma wasn't present to chide him on manners, buying himself time to mull over how he was going to respond. Each new piece of information he got from Conner added another piece to the board, Declan's gaze falling into that distant space of thought. What brought him back was Connor saying that he was going to bring Declan with him. That finally made Declan smirk, albeit around at mouthful of half-chewed sandwich.

"Of course, Da. Whatever ya need." The two shared the mutual silence of those appreciating their meal, though Declan helped himself to a second sandwich as the next topic sent up like a signal flare.

"The take from the fights're hard to pass up, so a move to the Setter might be for the best in the interim. But we'll keep it smaller scale, higher profile. If it's got yer name on it, it'll command more'a sense of exclusivity. VIP guests, top shelf liquor, prettier ring-girls, prime security, and I'll muster the best fighters. If yer ken on riggin' the game, I can slot meself as a contestant. Dominate or dive, your call." The last bit stung as Declan said it, but family came before personal pride. Finishing his second sandwich in a few wolfish bites, he wiped his massive hands clean with a napkin, rings glinting faintly.

That was when Sean took his seat. Declan had been silently counting just how long it would take the little whippet to join them. He quirked an eyebrow and Sean and made a point of drawing out his pocket watch, an eyebrow of dark copper quirking.

"Better late'n never, aye? If yer gonna be late, might as well take a few extra minutes to look presentable, aye boyo?" Declan teased, reaching across the table to ruffle Sean's hair. He was the closest thing Declan had to a little brother, after all. Easing back into his chair, Declan turned back to Connor to resume their discussion, hopefully taking up the old man's attention long enough for Sean to get some food in him before his hide got a firm tanning.

"Besides, if another wop shows up in the trash, we'll know for sure someone tryin' to fuck us. With a small pool of folk in the know, that'll narrow our search. With yer blessin', Da, of course."

Tags:
Soviet Panda , Jaellagirl

 

[ZacksQuest]

Spoiler: Plaintext

I was hunched over the casings, gettin' the chambers of the pineapple separated to put in the mechanisms and chemicals that'd make the magic happen, when I felt Eenie's eyes on the back of my head. That's sorta become somethin' I'm used to with them, kind of a natural consequence of getting comfortable around each other. They'd take a gander at my bombmakin' every now and then, and laugh whenever I'd messed up the chemicals and gotten a faceful o' hot soot and sulfur dust. The first time that happened was a bit more nerve-wracking for both of us- I was terrified that I'd overstayed my welcome with that explosion and they wouldn't let me do my work in the Clinic anymore, and they were worried I might've blown something clear off my face. Now, though, they laugh about it, since usually while I'm turned to them and apologizin', my face and hair usually looks like I took my dear old time cleaning chimneys with my head, and that laugh made always it a little better. I was a wee bit more wary about lookin' at their handiwork, only asking the odd question every now and then through a mouthful o' cotton, afraid I'd be breakin' their concentration, but the more it was clear they didn't mind the more questions I felt comfortable askin'.

The question they asked took me by surprise, though. "Say, you ever think we should spen' some time elsewhere?" I turned to look at them, more surprised at what they asked than anything else. Before I could respond they continued, "Like, you know, other than the garage or house." They tilted their head at me, all worried-like as if I was lookin' at 'em like they had two heads or something when that couldn't be further from the God's truth. I stammered a wee few times, rewriting my response in my head as my mouth was bobbin' up and down like a bloody idiot. I was never really asked to go places with people without some kind o' alternate agenda or reason for going somewhere. Even... even Scotty, you knwo, we used to talk about everythin' under the sun, but it was still under the pretense of runnin' a job or making a delivery. Going somewhere for the somewhere's sake was as foreign to me as someone tryin' to gab me in Yiddish and it was probably clear by the look on my face but I recovered well enough I guess.

“Er, ah yeah, I mean I don't see why not. There's a whole city's worth o' sights out there, yknow." I smiled a sorta toothy grin at 'em and continued, "Any places you have in mind?"I took the mistake of having a gander at the big clock on the opposite end of the garage and noticing how close it was to lunch time. I had no idea how many of the O'Halloran clan were already seated at Ma Rowena's table already, and I wasn't sure I wanted to be part of the tense conversation that was bound to happen, but it was my duty as a member of the family. I covered the casing pieces- one of the halves now split into four quarters by metal plates- with a bit of shop towel and got off of my stool, stretching a bit and waiting for Eenie's response before asking them if they were gonna head up fer lunch.

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/j7SlJjJ.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"May you be at the gates of Heaven an hour before the Devil knows you're dead."

- Old Irish Saying​

[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Cian O'Halloran[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Wildeye"[/div]
[div class=title]Arson/Demolitions Man of the O'Hallorans[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

I was hunched over the casings, gettin' the chambers of the pineapple separated to put in the mechanisms and chemicals that'd make the magic happen, when I felt Eenie's eyes on the back of my head. That's sorta become somethin' I'm used to with them, kind of a natural consequence of getting comfortable around each other. They'd take a gander at my bombmakin' every now and then, and laugh whenever I'd messed up the chemicals and gotten a faceful o' hot soot and sulfur dust. The first time that happened was a bit more nerve-wracking for both of us- I was terrified that I'd overstayed my welcome with that explosion and they wouldn't let me do my work in the Clinic anymore, and they were worried I might've blown something clear off my face. Now, though, they laugh about it, since usually while I'm turned to them and apologizin', my face and hair usually looks like I took my dear old time cleaning chimneys with my head, and that laugh made always it a little better. I was a wee bit more wary about lookin' at their handiwork, only asking the odd question every now and then through a mouthful o' cotton, afraid I'd be breakin' their concentration, but the more it was clear they didn't mind the more questions I felt comfortable askin'.

The question they asked took me by surprise, though. "Say, you ever think we should spen' some time elsewhere?" I turned to look at them, more surprised at what they asked than anything else. Before I could respond they continued, "Like, you know, other than the garage or house." They tilted their head at me, all worried-like as if I was lookin' at 'em like they had two heads or something when that couldn't be further from the God's truth. I stammered a wee few times, rewriting my response in my head as my mouth was bobbin' up and down like a bloody idiot. I was never really asked to go places with people without some kind o' alternate agenda or reason for going somewhere. Even... even Scotty, you knwo, we used to talk about everythin' under the sun, but it was still under the pretense of runnin' a job or making a delivery. Going somewhere for the somewhere's sake was as foreign to me as someone tryin' to gab me in Yiddish and it was probably clear by the look on my face but I recovered well enough I guess.

"Er, ah yeah, I mean I don't see why not. There's a whole city's worth o' sights out there, yknow." I smiled a sorta toothy grin at 'em and continued, "Any places you have in mind?" I took the mistake of having a gander at the big clock on the opposite end of the garage and noticing how close it was to lunch time. I had no idea how many of the O'Halloran clan were already seated at Ma Rowena's table already, and I wasn't sure I wanted to be part of the tense conversation that was bound to happen, but it was my duty as a member of the family. I covered the casing pieces- one of the halves now split into four quarters by metal plates- with a bit of shop towel and got off of my stool, stretching a bit and waiting for Eenie's response before asking them if they were gonna head up fer lunch.

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/aggakBe.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location:The Clinic

With: Ayama (Aibhne O'Donovan) [/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[CrowOuttaHell]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/xJj8NH3.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"The only thing between me and my hands around your throat is my patience, and the sad thing is I don't got any."

- Crazy Al​

[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Albrecht Schneider[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Crazy Al"[/div]
[div class=title]Enforcer of the Iron Tundra[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

"I'm afraid I do not know anything about it. I'm just a secretary at the front desk. You can come back later when Boss or Nicky are free but for now I am afraid you will have to wait."

Al met the woman's words-- spoken with a trained, polite demeanor-- with an idle nod of his head. He supposed those lower on the corporate chain wouldn't know that much about it either, given that they usually weren't out and about like the others. He considered the others in the organization for a minute, but quickly found himself dismissing the idea of trying to wander around the office and asking them, even though that was his usual preferred method.

"S'pose I'll ask the suits myself when they're free."

"I'm surprised they keep you working for them, with that attitude." Bear's words rang in his head. He'd replied that time with a sharp grin and a "I do the dirty work the suits can't be bothered to, and that's enough for them and most certainly enough for me."

Letting his attention drift back to the present time, he found his attention being drawn to the woman at the desk again. She was young, he noted. Legal enough to work, seeing how the suits took her in, but it wasn't her age that was completely keeping his attention. It was the swelling of her belly. Of course, he'd heard of organized crime groups taking in a member's child if one had been born during the course of that member's allegiance to them, and he had no doubts that the suits would take care of this woman if she did. But it wasn't the future he was worrying about. It was the present.

It didn't help that she looked to be just around Bear's age, and that was causing an instinct he'd developed from having to wrangle his younger counterpart in back in her hey-day to flare up again.

..."Fuck it."

"Either way, things are gonna get noisier and crazier around town. Hopefully things won't come to a boil, but the possibility's there." He started again, folding his arms over his chest.

"If that time ever comes," He turned his gaze back on the young woman. "You sure you're still okay to go on working for the Tundra? I ain't telling you to quit, mind you-- just that things might get dangerous around these parts sooner or later."

"You've got a life to protect other than your own, and I know that feeling." He bit back those words and kept them in his head. He didn't want to look sappy in front of the receptionist...or in front of anyone, really.

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/XKbze8D.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Iron Tundra Main Office



With: Maria[/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]

{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[CrowOuttaHell]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/dsuaJj4.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"In a metaphorical deal with the devil, I much rather prefer being the devil."

- Lorenzo "The Dagger" Antonelli​

[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Lorenzo Antonelli[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "The Dagger"[/div]
[div class=title]Leader of the Antonellis[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

Lorenzo reclined in his chaise, fingers steepled as he considered Aoife's words carefully; nodding a few times for good measure to show he understood. So there were outliers. Low-level members. The Bull ran a tight ship of his crew, however, and if he dealt with them as quick as Aoife mentioned, then Lorenzo figured he wouldn't even be having this conversation in the first place.

He slowly stood up from the chaise and approached even as the girl kept speaking. With his mind running a mile a minute, he needed to get at least one thing off of it.

Withdrawing a handkerchief from his pocket, he dabbed at the remaining olive oil at Aoife's chin when she finished speaking and catching the sliver of worry on her expression. There. One thing off his mind.

"I'm not sure if you've heard the rumors yet, though there's been plenty of talk about it," He began, putting away the handkerchief and clasping his arms behind him as he paced the floor. "One of our runners, an associate that was close to getting made, was found beaten to death."

"Normally, I wouldn't be kicking this much of a fuss about the situation, given that the person was merely an associate, but the real problem lies in the fact that he was found dead behind the Wolfhound Gym, owned by your brother Declan O'Halloran." Lorenzo paused. "While I...do not like to consider the idea that your siblings may have done it, there is always a possibility. Perhaps a prizefight gone wrong, for example."

Another pause. This time, Lorenzo forced himself to turn to other ideas so as to not spook the young O'Halloran working for him. It was clear from her worried expression that the idea of getting into a fight with her own family was not exactly a preferred outcome.

"Of course, when I say there's always a possibility, so too do others exist. One of the Asian groups, maybe. The Higashi-Gumi must be reeling from the raids the police had called on them, and the Crimson Blossom is...well, it's the Crimson Blossom."

"What about the Iron Tundra?" He could hear the question tugging at the back of his mind. But from what he knew, and the few times he'd gotten to meet its leader, she seemed to not be the sort who would resort to beating someone to death and dumping the body into another group's backyard, so to speak. Although he did know that she had someone like that in her employ.

"It could also be an outsider, for all we know, which can either simplify or complicate things." He mused before turning to Aoife again, stopping in his pacing long enough to flash his usual, small smile-- though it was of the exasperated but fond kind.

"Considering it's going to be a meeting with your family, I guess I don't have to ask whether you are coming along or not, do I?"

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/LkBVVuc.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Antonelli Palazzo



With: Aoife[/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]

{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[Ayama]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/nVWTsNK3/r2-1.png);"][div class=info][div class=text]"You either work with me,

Or you get out of my way."[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Alyenka Karmazin[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "The Iron Vice"[/div]
[div class=title]Leader of the Iron Tundra[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

Sacha closed the door behind him and stepped towards me without taking his eyes from my face, smiling that soft, slightly crooked smile that seemed to be reserved only for me (or that, at least, I hadn't seen him give anyone else). His gaze quickly swept across my body before returning to mine. Such things didn't make me feel self-conscious, coming from him. I knew he was admiring the suit he'd made for me, and how well it fit me, and the resultant effect, and he approved. We both saw such things the same way.

I gave him a similar once over, right corner of my mouth quirking upwards. He was, it must be said, a singularly good-looking man. Tall, with stylish dark hair and beautiful, piercing blue eyes and, of course, always wearing gorgeous and perfectly-tailored suits.

He walked towards me, holding out a hydrangea and closing the distance between us in a few, swift steps. The flower, which happened to match the color of his eyes, had always been my favorite- he'd made note of the bouquet the first time he'd ever set foot in my office, and had worn one in his lapel ever since, making it a habit to present me with it when we met.

I took the flower from him as he stood just outside the range of what would've been considered too close. It hadn't taken long for him to become the person I spent the most time with- the most time alone with-, and close to; except for perhaps Nicholai. I trusted him, and felt comfortable around him- comfortable enough to confide in him, when something was weighing on my mind. Comfortable enough to trust him with my reputation, and with potentially sensitive information. And comfortable enough to let him tailor my clothes, which included a fair bit more than just picking out a fabric or adjusting a seam. He was knowledgeable, and smart about how to do things, so I could turn to him for advice and ideas. For someone in my position, having someone like him around was was quite invaluable.

He had earned my trust by displaying those qualities I most respected and sought out in those who worked with me: competence, bringing added value to the table, and a sense of propriety and awareness regarding appearances. When I realized that, on top of being an excellent tailor, he knew more about guns than most of us would forget in a lifetime, I had had a secret armory included in the plans for our new headquarters, connected to his workroom. How he manages to create concealed pockets for any number of weapons in his suits without having them look ill-fitting or awkward, I'll never know. But we are better dressed- and better armed- for it. I pulled my focus back to the man in question.

"Ah, looking as beautiful as a Swan with the air of a Siberian Tigress!" he declared. I was torn between laughing and rolling my eyes- his compliments always went over the top, but I couldn't deny that I enjoyed them. If there was one sin I was definitely guilty of, it was pride, and Sacha's flirting, flattery and constant extravagant compliments did a grand job of catering to it, as did his ostentatious subservience.

There was just the barest hint of a suggestion in his words, when he asked what I would have of him- a slight inflection to his voice as he said my name and leaned in ever so slightly. If he had dared to pull this kind of stunt in public, I would have had Al beat the shit out of him, messing up that beautiful face of his until he got the message, but I knew there was no need for me to worry about that. Unless we were alone, he would never stand so close, address me so familiarly, or look at me the way he was doing now.

"A new suit," I said as I placed the flower on the desk. I turned away from him and walked back over to the mirror, examining my reflection critically. "One with more pockets than this one." 'Pockets' was code for weapons- it was how most of the guys in the group referred to getting outfitted by the armorer: I gotta go in for a fitting and get some new pockets from the Tailor, they would say. I usually refrained from using mobster slang but, in this case, I appreciated the double-entendre, since I was also referring to the actual hidden pockets I would need sewn into the suit in order to conceal those weapons.

"Also, I need information," I continued. "I want to know who the hell's been dealing in Crimson Blossom territory, and why." I turned to look at him meaningfully- Sacha had contacts in the city, outside the group, that could prove quite useful in such situations. I needed to find whoever was behind this, and put a stop to it. My mouth tightened into a thin, irritated line, as I stepped over to my window and crossed my arms over my chest.

I looked out over the buildings, the stormy grey skies and the sinuous streets, reaching out with my mind to whoever was behind this, hoping they could feel my anger, hoping they were starting to understand the consequences of what they had set in motion.

I will find you, I vowed. And when I do, you're going to wish you'd never even thought of crossing me.

Indeed, if there was one thing everyone in this entire damn city should know by now, it was that you did not mess with Alyenka Karmazin and her business.

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/V66BvFJy/r2-2.png);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: Iron Tundra HQ

With: Sacha[/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[StaidFoal]

Higashi Kurata| Omoikane | Higashi-Gumi Accountant
Location: The Sōko

Pitter, patter, pitter, patter. The sound of rain against an umbrella was almost therapeutic. A poetic person might say that the rain represented the trials and tribulations we all face, in that it can arrive in the most unexpected of times, yet end in sunshine. But Kura was not a poetic person. She grumbled at the inconvenience of the weather and how it coincided with her assignment, and how her feet splashing against puddles had disrupted her concentration. A streak of misfortune had followed the Higashi-Gumi like a dog: the oyabun fell ill, leaving only Riri to take his place; the yakuza lost two warehouses full of product and wealth, because some chikushou tipped off the pigsty; and she was expected to handle it.

Near the first warehouse underneath protruding cover was a well-built man, looking for someone. Even in the downfall, Kura could recognize Harada. "Gi-san!" she called out. Now underneath the cover of the warehouse, she folded her umbrella and bowed to the older man.

"Ah, Kura-sama!" He bowed in return, a troubled, fake smile worn like a mask. But she knew he wasn't at fault. He'd been here when the police burst through, sniffing out their wealth and stripping it from the Higashi-Gumi in no more than two hours. There were dozens of underlings which could have easily been the rat. Smoking them out would have to wait; for now, she was to estimate the damage done and how much money was lost in the raid. The warehouse, as she'd expected, was unusually desolate. The workers were gone, leaving only silence. Papers and useless objects were strewn about, left by the raid. "The police were armed to the teeth, busting in with a search warrant and shoving us all aside," Harada said. "I saved a few packages of product. They confiscated the rest."

Gi-san stared at the floor, arms crossed and brows furrowed. Kura respected people who took responsibility, and he was one of them. The accountant would tally up the prices and amounts, surveying the damage all throughout the warehouse with Gi-san following behind to inform her of what was being held where. "Things must be hectic for the family, I'd imagine?" he asked.

The question made Kura pause in her work, releasing a silent sigh. "Tensions are high, fingers are pointed, but nothing is concrete. That is the issue: there is more to fighting back than flimsy beliefs and groundless accusations... but I am not the oyabun; my dear cousin is. There is not much I can do." When Kura took time to answer a question, he knew not to pry any further. Not even halfway done with totaling the losses and the cost only added to her substantial headache. "I need a drink after this," she muttered. Maybe a cup of sake back at their family compound or a stronger liquid at the Gatted Goy. Never have I seen the Higashi-Gumi in such a state... money's been running down the drain and a damned raid isn't helping!

Kura and Harada stopped outside, and she clicked her tongue at the amount of money lost. Now, just who could've ratted them out? If interrogating the warehouse workers yielded nothing, there would only be the other mob groups. The first one to come to mind was the Crimson Blossom, the Chinese that sprouted like mushrooms and started harassing the other gangs, save for the Iron Tundra. There were plenty of motives, but with no evidence there was no true answer. Second most likely would be the O'Hallorans. Though the rivalry between them and the Antonellis had long died down, there was still a bitter resentment; a clear grudge between the Higashi-Gumi and the Irish mafia. But was it enough for them to incite what could very well lead to a gang war? It was unlikely, but possible. Kura quickly dismissed the Iron Tundra and the Antonellis. Maybe I'm overthinking... No, the boldest measures are the safest. After a deep breath, Kura looked up at Gi-san. "Anyways, I have a few ideas that can replenish our lost resources..."​

 

[Ayama]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/zfQKDtc9/8a1f9f9e93b37cce54bd153c414a97fd-1.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"Aibhne's the name

And repairs are my game."[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Aibhne O'Donovan[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Tinkerbell"[/div]
[div class=title]Mechanic for the O'Hallorans[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

Cian flim-flamm'd fer a bit, goin' red in the cheeks, and I giggled softly. It was adorable, th' way 'e got all nervous about stuff like that. It was clear from th' way 'is mouth opened an' closed like that 'e was tryin' ter figure out what ter say.

'e was actually startin' to look a little bit lost an' panicked, but then somehow pulled it t'gether. The 'I don' see why not' bit was a rough start, but 'e redeem'd 'imself with the part 'bout the 'whole city's worth o' sights out there'.

An' I sure did love that smile o' his- the big, toothy, awkward grin. Made me feel happy an' all sunny inside whenever I'd see it. 'e asked if I had any places in mind, and I 'ad to stop an' think about it fer a bit.

To be hones', my immediate answer would've been that I wanted to see where 'e went t'fill up that sack o' his ev'ry day, but 'e just got back from there. I hadn' really plan'd past that, so I was comin' up blank while 'e took a gander at th'big clock.

"I dunno... Maybe the docks?" I said, reachin' fer somethin' to suggest to 'im. 'e nodded- I had a feelin' he'd be up fer goin' pretty much anywhere anyway. Then 'e asked if I was gonna head up fer lunch. I nodded- my stomach was startin' to growl.

"Might as well grab some food an' get yeh dried off 'fore we head out to explore, eh?" I said cheerfully, hoppin' down from th' car and headin' out. A couple minutes later, we were sittin' at the table with Connor and Dec and Sean, tearin' into some sandwiches.

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/zfQKDtc9/8a1f9f9e93b37cce54bd153c414a97fd-1.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Homestead

With: Declan, Connor, Sean, Cian[/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[Jaellagirl]

Spoiler: Plaintext for Maša

I could see the gears in the man's brain. He was thinking hard. I'm not sure if it was because of me or the ruckus that has been going on. There seemed to be a lot of arguing in his head. Finally he seemed to have come to a conclusion. He's words about considering to find a safer place were nothing new. I had heard everything already. I had thought about everything but that didn't mean I could just pack up and leave. I was marked after all. I turned and looked straight at him and without a change in my face. I told him in a stern voice
"I really am flattered that you give so many fucks about me but don't you think I would stay if I had a place to go. I will tell you something that I have told many others before. I don't care what you have to say about my decisions cause you don't know the life I used to live.
Now do you have any work related problems?
The last part that came out of my mouth sounded chirpy. Too chirpy but who even cares. I gave the man a small smile and hoped he would leave. It was gettin a bit sickening to see and hear that the matter of fact is as a pregnant woman I no longer belong to myself. I am a public property. Suddenly I don't seem to have any freedom to choose cause mother is only the vessel for the new life. Disgusting!

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcR5DVkywsOReeQcj7HMC01-l4wPG7CvyQhVOZyvpJFHxEvjpSRV&s);"][div class=info][div class=text]"Don't go digging inside a rose bush! It has thorns"

- Maria​

[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Мария Снега [/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "The Tundra Rose"[/div]
[div class=title]Secretary of Iron Tundra[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

I could see the gears in the man's brain. He was thinking hard. I'm not sure if it was because of me or the ruckus that has been going on. There seemed to be a lot of arguing in his head. Finally he seemed to have come to a conclusion. He's words about considering to find a safer place were nothing new. I had heard everything already. I had thought about everything but that didn't mean I could just pack up and leave. I was marked after all. I turned and looked straight at him and without a change in my face. I told him in a stern voice
"I really am flattered that you give so many fucks about me but don't you think I would stay if I had a place to go. I will tell you something that I have told many others before. I don't care what you have to say about my decisions cause you don't know the life I used to live.
Now do you have any work related problems?
The last part that came out of my mouth sounded chirpy. Too chirpy but who even cares. I gave the man a small smile and hoped he would leave. It was gettin a bit sickening to see and hear that the matter of fact is as a pregnant woman I no longer belong to myself. I am a public property. Suddenly I don't seem to have any freedom to choose cause mother is only the vessel for the new life. Disgusting!

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcR5DVkywsOReeQcj7HMC01-l4wPG7CvyQhVOZyvpJFHxEvjpSRV&s);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Iron Tundra Main Office

With: Al CrowOuttaHell [/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[Ayama]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/brDLvRsC/i3.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"Aoife's the name

And killing is the game."[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Aoife O'Halloran[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "The Cyan Bullet"[/div]
[div class=title]Wetwork asset for the Antonellis[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

As Lorenzo nodded along, processing her words and going through whatever calculations and considerations he did in his head, Aoife simply helped herself to some more grapes. When he got up and walked towards her, pulling out a handkerchief as he went, Aoife blinked at him in confusion. A frown appeared on her forehead as he reached for her face.

He's not about to tell me to 'blow into the hanky' like I'm some snot-nosed brat, is he? she wondered, nonplussed. Turns out, she wasn't that far off, as his hand veered downwards and he wiped at her chin instead. Aoife glared at him, rubbing vigorously at the spot with the back of her hand and looking even more like the kid he'd just been treating her as.

He turned away from her, immune as always to the metaphorical daggers coming from her eyes, and began pacing the room, arms clasped behind his back, as he laid out the situation for her. Her ire evaporated, forgotten under the distraction caused by his revelation.

Beaten to death? she thought. That's oldschool.

When he mentioned where the body was found, however, her jaw dropped open. Dec's Gym? No way, she thought furiously. Someone's trying to mess with us. Even she wasn't sure which 'us' she meant, but she was pissed either way. When he suggested a prize fight gone wrong, she shook her head automatically.

"People don't get killed in fights at O'Halloran gyms anymore," she declared with absolute certainty. "After what happened to that one guy a few years back, 'Da swore he'd never allow it."

Lorenzo paused as he considered her expression, then resumed, expanding on the other and, in Aoife's opinion, far more likely possibilities. She wanted to go into a tirade about the other groups and start flinging accusations left and right but, at that moment, Enzo flashed her that smooth smile that turned her from predator to puppy and asked if she would be coming along. Aoife beamed.

"Don't worry boss," she teased, "I'm not about to let you go up against those scary Irishmen alone- I got your back!"

She jumped up from the chaise, drawing her gun as she went, and striking an over-the-top, cartoon-worthy pose, winking at Lorenzo and flashing a roguish grin.

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/kX831Qfv/i4.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: Antonelli Palazzo

With: Lorenzo[/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[CrowOuttaHell]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/xJj8NH3.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"The only thing between me and my hands around your throat is my patience, and the sad thing is I don't got any."

- Crazy Al​

[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Albrecht Schneider[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Crazy Al"[/div]
[div class=title]Enforcer of the Iron Tundra[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

"I really am flattered that you give so many fucks about me but don't you think I would stay if I had a place to go. I will tell you something that I have told many others before. I don't care what you have to say about my decisions cause you don't know the life I used to live.
Now do you have any work related problems?

"That's fair." The woman's fighting words met practiced indifference. Maybe reasoning with someone both young and damaged wasn't a good course of action. Dealing with Bear on her worse days apparently hadn't taught him anything, but it at least kept him calm. Arguably. "Guess this is a good time as any to take this as a cue to smoke."

He couldn't leave it hanging there, though. He folded his arms again, letting out a deflated breath.

"I'm not here to say anything about your actions, or your life up until this point. Just keeping an eye out on the ones not at the frontline of things." By frontline, he of course meant the frontline that he, Vladislav, and the few enforcers and runners the Iron Tundra had that regularly came out to talk or beat (most usually the latter) some sense into those who opposed the company. "Nor am I implying I don't think you would if you had the choice not to stay. Your choices are your own. I can respect that. It's just my job to keep trouble out of this place, and I want to ensure you all get out with your hides intact if it ever does."

With that being said, he let his shoulders slump again into his usual, sluggish pose as he shoved both hands into his pockets. "That's all for me. Lemme know when the suits come down." After that, he turned and made his way out of the building.

***************

The office's smoking area was one of the dullest he'd ever seen, but at least it was cleaner than most public smoking areas. Least there was a bin to throw the stubbed out butts in, and no dirt. Nevertheless, the scent of smoke he'd grown used to permeated the room and clung to anyone who'd visited the place. Al would know. He was the most frequent visitor. Sacha, their tailor-- and armourer-- would hate it here, he bet. And he didn't know whether Vlad smoked or not, but he certainly didn't carry the scent.

"Me and that fleshwall of a bodyguard. Two violent and rough guys, working for the organization that uses the least violence." He shook his head at the irony. "Fucking hilarious."

He withdrew the new pack he'd randomly swiped off the coffee table at Bear's house from his shirt pocket. His younger counterpart didn't smoke-- she didn't even drink, certainly a rarity for someone who was caught completely in the throes of the worst of college and a caffeine addiction and, probably, undiagnosed insomnia-- but she sometimes left packs there for whenever he hung out. The only problem was...

"Fuck, Bear, you'd think after god knows how many trips I've taken to your place you'd know my brand already." He grumbled under his breath as he stared down at the mint green pack of cigarettes in his hand. Nevertheless, smokes were smokes, and he was the walking, talking smokestack of the Iron Tundra. He put one of the sticks-- a little hesitantly-- into his mouth and lit it.

Breathe in the smoke, feel himself calm down...and then cough all the smoke back out.

"Tastes like shit."

If this was Bear's way of getting him to quit smoking, then she was succeeding. Nevertheless, it was calming him down, so he took another deep drag.

Where was the kid, anyway? He'd dropped her and another one of his old crew members off around West, but she hadn't exactly told him where she was going. Only thing he knew was that she'd bothered to dress like a suit, which had annoyed him the first time he'd seen it.

"Fuck me, not you too." He recalled himself saying, and his eyes narrowed at the memory.

She'd glared back that time, and they held a good few seconds of just standing off and glaring. It was a familiar song and dance-- his irritation and annoyance at the business side of things, and her insistence that no, she wasn't going to be a suit, it just so happened she was dating someone who had lots of dealings with suits and needed to act the part.

Which was a problem, admittedly.

He had loyalty to the Iron Tundra, of course. But if there was one thing he wanted to do-- maybe one of these days--, he wanted to get the fuck out of the City. He didn't care whether the scent followed him. He just wanted a place where he could take his only makeshift family in this goddamned town to pretend they were normal for once. They'd struggle along, as they always did.

"Come to think of it, this girl's your ticket out of here, huh, Bear?" He mused to himself, the words uttered under his breath. Good for her, he supposed. Least she had a solid way out of this place. Himself, he wasn't sure whether he did. Maybe one of these days.

"One day."

With that thought in mind, he put the cigarette to his lips again and took another, long drag.

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/XKbze8D.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Iron Tundra Main Office (Smoking Area)



With: His thoughts.[/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]

{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[ZacksQuest]

Spoiler: Plaintext

There it was, that laugh again. There I was awkwardly yammerin' my way through what an outside observe might be able to consider a response, and that giggle took all those doubts straight outta me. They seemed lost in thought for a good few seconds, but the answer didn't mind me none no matter what it was gonna be. Or, at least that's what I told myself before they brought up the docks. I did hafta wrack my brains a wee bit, tryin' to fink back on what parts of the docks were and weren't Yakuza turf and, after cementin' in my head that at least getting there wasn't gonna be the death of us, figuring out at least the most pleasant walk to get there unless they wanted to take one o' their cars out.

But those docks. You got the slummy parts further on either end, with one side bein' a shipyard stuck firmly in Higashi territory and the industrial park on our end where extended friends and family beat the tar outta wharf rats in the name o' union dues, and I'm assumin those amoral pirates the Crimson Blossom had to bring in their godforsaken shite from somewhere around there. But right in the center of all that is the marina, a real divvy o' shops and parlors and fishin' joints where people safely gather and enjoy life in a neutral truce zone, and there's little enough water pollution that when the sun dances on the water the waves that lap over the wooden posts look fresh and blue like the grass in the North Irish meadows are green, cept those times when the sunset hits it at just the right spot and it becomes a kaleidoscope o' pinks and yellows that dances like stained glass clear cross the water.

Now I know both of our interests'd fit more at home on the industrial side o' things, but for whatever reason, there was nothin' more I wanted to do than show 'em the river in the sunset. Huh. Go figure.

I asked 'em about lunch plans, and their stomach gave me the answer before anythin' crossed their lips. “Might as well grab some food an' get yeh dried off 'fore we head out to explore, eh?"

I smiled again back at em and said, "Yeah, probably'd give Boss Con- er, Da- a conniption if I didn't at least check in to get some... what are they makin today?" Whoof. That was an awkward revision. Honestly, speaking the whole truth and nothin' but and all that, it always feels sorta strange referring to Boss Connor as 'Da'. Ma Rowena'd chided me on not callin' her 'Ma' enough times that it's stuck and all the better for it, but the same can't be said for Connor. Maybe being just old enough that Connor'd have had to start young in order to really consider me his kid made it awkward; maybe it's because with the liberation from those oppressive imperialistic limeys goin' on I didn't even get that family affection from me own da' back in the homeland. Either way, it was Boss Connor or at best a "Cousin Connor, sir" if I'm feeling particularly adventurous.

Either way- where was I? Oh, I was askin' them if they knew what we were eating today, and didn't get an answer cause they were already bounding in the direction of the fixings. It was just like them, and it made me smile as I headed up after them.

A few seconds of walking found me up in the house proper, and I greeted Ma Rowena with a wave and a little bow of my head. "Hullo, Ma. Need any help with anythin?"

I stopped as Ma gave me the eyeball- and despite what anyone says, no Italian or Jewish Evil Eye could ever compare to a quick staredown from Ma Rowena herself. “Child, the only thing you could help me with is to not go playin' out in the rain. You look like a wet cat, boy."

"Yes, Ma." I hid a small smile and hung my head a bit.

"What's that smile for? Go on, I made ye food and I expect ye to eat it before you catch yer death of cold."

That time I nodded and headed to the table. Eenie was already seated and eatin- boy oh boy, looked like Ma's own pulled pork sandwiches on potato buns. Sean, Declan, and Connor were already seated- and with that my enthusiasm from afternoon plans dissipated in a wave of self consciousness. I was one o' the last ones there- and if Ada and Aoife didn't show up, I was gonna be the last one there. I grabbed myself a plate and sat down near Tinks and Sean but a wee bit away from the cousins, said “Afternoon boyos" to everyone at the table, and realizin' what the Brits would call a "slight modicum of impertinence", made a quickly revised “Boss Connor, sir. Cousin Dec, sir," to Connor and Declan cross the table. Those two certainly knew the drill with me by now. For the first while I wouldn't speak until spoken to- though with the whole scandal with the stiff, I'm sure they'd have at least a wee morsel to talk to me about with that. Then, once the food was runnin' low and the appetites were getting filled, I'd open up more. That's always been the way of things with me, and even though I wished I had more backbone sometimes I was okay enough with the comforts I was given to not really mind.

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/j7SlJjJ.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"May you be at the gates of Heaven an hour before the Devil knows you're dead."

- Old Irish Saying​

[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Cian O'Halloran[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Wildeye"[/div]
[div class=title]Arson/Demolitions Man of the O'Hallorans[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

There it was, that laugh again. There I was awkwardly yammerin' my way through what an outside observe might be able to consider a response, and that giggle took all those doubts straight outta me. They seemed lost in thought for a good few seconds, but the answer didn't mind me none no matter what it was gonna be. Or, at least that's what I told myself before they brought up the docks. I did hafta wrack my brains a wee bit, tryin' to fink back on what parts of the docks were and weren't Yakuza turf and, after cementin' in my head that at least getting there wasn't gonna be the death of us, figuring out at least the most pleasant walk to get there unless they wanted to take one o' their cars out.

But those docks. You got the slummy parts further on either end, with one side bein' a shipyard stuck firmly in Higashi territory and the industrial park on our end where extended friends and family beat the tar outta wharf rats in the name o' union dues, and I'm assumin those amoral pirates the Crimson Blossom had to bring in their godforsaken shite from somewhere around there. But right in the center of all that is the marina, a real divvy o' shops and parlors and fishin' joints where people safely gather and enjoy life in a neutral truce zone, and there's little enough water pollution that when the sun dances on the water the waves that lap over the wooden posts look fresh and blue like the grass in the North Irish meadows are green, cept those times when the sunset hits it at just the right spot and it becomes a kaleidoscope o' pinks and yellows that dances like stained glass clear cross the water.

Now I know both of our interests'd fit more at home on the industrial side o' things, but for whatever reason, there was nothin' more I wanted to do than show 'em the river in the sunset. Huh. Go figure.

I asked 'em about lunch plans, and their stomach gave me the answer before anythin' crossed their lips. "Might as well grab some food an' get yeh dried off 'fore we head out to explore, eh?"

I smiled again back at em and said, "Yeah, probably'd give Boss Con- er, Da- a conniption if I didn't at least check in to get some... what are they makin today?" Whoof. That was an awkward revision. Honestly, speaking the whole truth and nothin' but and all that, it always feels sorta strange referring to Boss Connor as 'Da'. Ma Rowena'd chided me on not callin' her 'Ma' enough times that it's stuck and all the better for it, but the same can't be said for Connor. Maybe being just old enough that Connor'd have had to start young in order to really consider me his kid made it awkward; maybe it's because with the liberation from those oppressive imperialistic limeys goin' on I didn't even get that family affection from me own da' back in the homeland. Either way, it was Boss Connor or at best a "Cousin Connor, sir" if I'm feeling particularly adventurous.

Either way- where was I? Oh, I was askin' them if they knew what we were eating today, and didn't get an answer cause they were already bounding in the direction of the fixings. It was just like them, and it made me smile as I headed up after them.

A few seconds of walking found me up in the house proper, and I greeted Ma Rowena with a wave and a little bow of my head. "Hullo, Ma. Need any help with anythin?"

I stopped as Ma gave me the eyeball- and despite what anyone says, no Italian or Jewish Evil Eye could ever compare to a quick staredown from Ma Rowena herself. "Child, the only thing you could help me with is to not go playin' out in the rain. You look like a wet cat, boy."

"Yes, Ma." I hid a small smile and hung my head a bit.

"What's that smile for? Go on, I made ye food and I expect ye to eat it before you catch yer death of cold."

That time I nodded and headed to the table. Eenie was already seated and eatin- boy oh boy, looked like Ma's own pulled pork sandwiches on potato buns. Sean, Declan, and Connor were already seated- and with that my enthusiasm from afternoon plans dissipated in a wave of self consciousness. I was one o' the last ones there- and if Ada and Aoife didn't show up, I was gonna be the last one there. I grabbed myself a plate and sat down near Tinks and Sean but a wee bit away from the cousins, said "Afternoon boyos" to everyone at the table, and realizin' what the Brits would call a "slight modicum of impertinence", made a quickly revised "Boss Connor, sir. Cousin Dec, sir," to Connor and Declan cross the table. Those two certainly knew the drill with me by now. For the first while I wouldn't speak until spoken to- though with the whole scandal with the stiff, I'm sure they'd have at least a wee morsel to talk to me about with that. Then, once the food was runnin' low and the appetites were getting filled, I'd open up more. That's always been the way of things with me, and even though I wished I had more backbone sometimes I was okay enough with the comforts I was given to not really mind.

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/aggakBe.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location:Homestead Kitchen
With: Ayama (Aibhne O'Donovan), Soviet Panda (Connor O'Halloran), StormWolf (Declan O'Halloran), Jaellagirl (Sean McAllister), and Rowena O'Halloran [/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[Soviet Panda]

[div class=box]

[div class=pic]

[div class=name]Connor O'Halloran[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "The Bull"[/div]
[div class=title]Leader of the O'Hallorans[/div]​

[div class=info]Location: O'Halloran Dinning Room
With: Declan, Sean, Cian, and Aibhne[/div][/div]

[div class=post]

Connor was almost unaware of Sean showing up had Declan not done anything. But he had, so Connor did notice the late riser. Luckily Sean only had to deal with a glare and a growl while Connor took a note of the time on his watch. He wouldn't do anything, but he'd let the boy know what he thought on late sleepers on a week day.

"Declan, if I put your name on a card, they'll think it's rigged. They'll see 'O'Halloran' and say 'Yep, I'd be losing money on that one' and we'd be lucky if one sorry piece of dog shite placed anything on it. No offense son, but these VIP customers, the ones with any real money, are a bit smarter than what you get at the Wolfhound."

This was followed by another bite from another sandwich before realization dawned on him. "Setter vs Wolfhound, that'd bring both crowds in. Course that'd mean it'd be a bigger crowd, spend a bit more on security, but the entry fee will cover 'em. Then we'd 'ave our title card. Rian vs Cillian, names both crowds know, best of the best. I don't think we'll rig that one, that's a fight I want to see play out"

At the greeting from Cian, Connor grunted and waved in response, mouth once more full of food. "Eat up boyo, need some meat behind you. Next breeze looks like it could blow you over. And did Ma already talk to you about your clothes? God help you if you tracked anything into her house."

[/div]

[/div]

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 780px; height: 460px; [/class] [class=pic] width: 300px; height: 450px; border: 3px solid #000000; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/k5M1gyBr/1582106348646.jpg); filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; margin-top: 175px; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #050505; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #050505; [/class] [class=info] margin-top: 50px; margin-left: 75px; font-size: 18px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-left: -90px; width: 450px; height: 450px; border: 3px solid #2f2d2d; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); opacity: 0.8 font-size: 15px; color: white; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[Jaellagirl]

Spoiler: Plaintext for Sean

As if Dec's only mission in life was to salt my wounds. He remarked the fact that I was neither on time nor on point.
"Sorry mate but ya can't argue with the fact that. Ro's cooking is way to good to just take yer sweet time and look nice-ish"
Started to dig into the food once more just so I could be gone before I would be gone forever. Even thought of that caused me to shiver. What followed was even scarier. I heard Connor growl and made the wrong choice by looking into those scary scary eye. If glares could kill I would be sooooo dead. So just to be safe I nudged my chair farther from the Bull before I continued to inhale my food. Yea inhale. I do not wish to be the next wall mount. Even more people joined in. First came Senny (XD Senny XD). Ma boy looks nice and then followed Tink. I just chucked down the last piece of the sandwich and tried to skadaddle out to safty. Before of course I ruffled Dec's hair back and gave a nice hug to Tink and a pat on the back for Sennyboy.
"Dec, be aware of the fact that you may be visited by the sock gnomes!
I missed ya Tinks
Nice seeing ya Senny!"
I skidded out of the dining area and run up the stairs just to lock myself into Dec's room just in case

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/Wkdpk9c/Left-1.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"Eating is the only job that feeds"

- Sean​

[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Sean McAllister [/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Irish Dog"[/div]
[div class=title]Enforcer of O'Hallorans[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

As if Dec's only mission in life was to salt my wounds. He remarked the fact that I was neither on time nor on point.
"Sorry mate but ya can't argue with the fact that. Ro's cooking is way to good to just take yer sweet time and look nice-ish"
Started to dig into the food once more just so I could be gone before I would be gone forever. Even thought of that caused me to shiver. What followed was even scarier. I heard Connor growl and made the wrong choice by looking into those scary scary eye. If glares could kill I would be sooooo dead. So just to be safe I nudged my chair farther from the Bull before I continued to inhale my food. Yea inhale. I do not wish to be the next wall mount. Even more people joined in. First came Senny (XD Senny XD). Ma boy looks nice and then followed Tink. I just chucked down the last piece of the sandwich and tried to skadaddle out to safty. Before of course I ruffled Dec's hair back and gave a nice hug to Tink and a pat on the back for Sennyboy.
"Dec, be aware of the fact that you may be visited by the sock gnomes!
I missed ya Tinks
Nice seeing ya Senny!"
I skidded out of the dining area and run up the stairs just to lock myself into Dec's room just in case

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/Yfmr61r/Right-1.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The O'Halloran household

With: Ro
Connor Soviet Panda
Declan StormWolf
SENNY ZacksQuest
Tinks Ayama [/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[StormWolf]

______________________________________________________________________
Declan 'Prince' O'Halloran, the Sledgehammer - Lt. of the O'Halloran Family
______________________________________________________________________
Location: The O'Halloran House - Dining Room

"Point taken, Da. I'll send the word down the vine this evenin'," Declan said soberly, casting his eyes downward. He knew that he should take the greater part of what Connor said as a compliment, that he shouldn't sell himself short in the face of his father's superior experience, but Declan still chewed his lip dourly. He was sure he had thought of everything, but sure enough, he'd lost the forest through the trees. Better luck next time, you lummox, he sneered at himself. He was thankful for Sean's playful ribbing and the sudden cacophony of a full dining room. As they were wont to do, they derailed his train of thought.

He nodded a hello to Cian, with a lazy wave of his hand. "Afternoon, Cian. Have a good swim?" He gestured broadly to Cian's state. It felt odd being called 'sir' by a man several years his senior, but Connor had established the chain of command and ran a tight ship. The last thing Declan needed to do was dismiss that status quo for personal comfort.

"Some of us dunna need to try so hard to look sharp, Sunny-boy," Dec said with a smirk, "And that's precisely why I have iron nails in me room. Fair-folk are no jokin' matter." Settling back into his chair, the old wood groaned in protest beneath his bulk. He glanced across the table to the empty seat they kept for little Aiofe, causing something cold and bitter to stir in his stomach. He couldn't clearly remember the last time she'd joined them for a family meal.

A memory danced through his head unbidden: when Aiofe was still tiny (or tinier, rather), gap-toothed, and snot-nosed, he remembered picking her up to track muddy feet on the ceiling in this very room. Ma had given them both hell in a hand basket and it hurt to sit for a day or two, but the pure mischievous glee they'd shared was. . . something he sorely missed. There was a bond between an elder brother and is youngest sibling. That they'd drifted so far apart, that she worked for the fucking Italians, never sat well with him

Declan laced his fingers together to keep himself from wrecking the arms of his chair. Peering down the length of table, he glanced over to Tinkerbell. Speakin' of faeries. . .

"Afternoon to ye too, Aibhne. Me? Ach, I've been fine, all things considered. Thanks fer askin'! How've ye been, yerself?"

Tags: Soviet Panda Ayama Jaellagirl ZacksQuest

 

[CoachA]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/ScBBRG0.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"I have everything and nothing."

- Nicholai​

[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Nicholai Milkovich[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Checks"[/div]
[div class=title]Iron Tundra Lieutenant[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

Nicholai bustled around his office for a moment as he made Zhang a glass of water, he would offer something stronger but he was sure the detective would be going back to work after their meeting. He handed his guest a flute of cool water, a bit embarrased that it was the only glass he had in his office but it would do.

He sighed quietly as he sat down behind his desk, undoing the button on his suit jacket to avoid creases. A fair bit of nervous energy swirled in his chest, he wouldn't be able to answer any questions Zhang had and it made him uneasy.

Nicholai tensed slightly as Zhang began to speak. Of course he knew how serious the situation was and how clearly the evidence was pointing straight back to the Iron Tundra, but somehow the facts hit even harder when spoken by one of the few people Nicholai had come to trust. It would have been perfectly understandable for Zhang to believe the Tundra had something to do with the situation at hand, but thankfully he didn't.

There was no doubt in his mind that Zhang was right when he said there would be bloodshed if the situation wasn't resolved quickly, and it bothered the lieutenant to no end. Nicholai never wanted anyone to get hurt.

Glancing away quickly when the detective looked into his eyes, he rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he thought of how to respond.

"That is just my dilemma unfortunately. I have no idea who it might be, or why the evidence points back to us when we have nothing to do with this."

He sighed and shook his head, clasping his hands together on his desk.

"Of course I will comply and help you as much as possible in your investigation. I want the situation dealt with quickly but ,regretfully I have nothing to give you at present."

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/ajsGZVi.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: Iron Tundra Main Office

With: Zhang Ayama [/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[Ayama]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/zfQKDtc9/8a1f9f9e93b37cce54bd153c414a97fd-1.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"Aibhne's the name

And repairs are my game."[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Aibhne O'Donovan[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Tinkerbell"[/div]
[div class=title]Mechanic for the O'Hallorans[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

I noticed how Cy got all awkward when tryin' ta figure out what he should call Connor too. We were in th' same pod, he an' I. I mean, I'd grown up with the Hals an' all, but I wasn' actually related to 'em. Cy, meanwhile, was, but he'd on'y jus' got here not that long ago, and it prob'bly seem'd strange to 'im, callin' Connor 'Da, when he was older e'en than Dec' was.

When 'Mama Ro called Cy a wet cat, I started gigglin'. He really did look quite pitiful, all drench'd like that. 'e hung 'is head as she told him off, but it were obvious he liked it. Must not've gotten much affectionate worryin', back there in 'is revolutionary war.

'e greeted everyone familiar-like, then seemed to catch 'imself, and changed his tack. I rolled m'eyes. All this 'yes sir', 'no sir' malarkey was dumb. They was family- ev'ry last one of 'em- and they should act like it, 'stead of gettin' all 'ung up on who was in charge and whatnot. But Connor felt it was important, an' he was the boss, so that was that.

Connor was busy eatin' and talkin' business with Dec', but 'e took a minute to tell Cy to eat. I giggled- it didn' matter 'ow much 'e ate; 'e always looked like a scarecrow. 'e was just built that way, I guess- didn' bother me none.

Sean wolfed down his food as always, somehow e'en more uncomfortable than Cy, which didn' make no sense, and hightailed it outta there with a few rushed greetings an' partin' comments. I rolled my eyes.

When Dec' said the fair-folk were no laughin' matter, I laughed out loud. It was always great to see this great big mountain o' a man actin' like a superstitious ninny. I flicked a piece o' pork at 'is plate.

"Better watch yerself, Dec', or the fairies will getcha!" I teased.

" 'I've been fine, all things considered'," I repeated. "Since when did you turn into such a fancy fob?"

Then the words caught up to me.

"'All things considered'..." I said again. "Did somethin' happen, Dec'?"

I looked 'round the table, noticin' the serious mood an' the expressions on Connor an' Declan's faces. Maybe Sean had had a good reason to get up an' leave early...

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/zfQKDtc9/8a1f9f9e93b37cce54bd153c414a97fd-1.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Homestead

With: Connor, Declan, Cian[/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[StaidFoal]

Bonfilio Caruso | The Poignard Shadow | Lorenzo's Body Double
Location: Antonelli Palazzo

To appear at two places at once is a godsend for extraordinarily busy people, yet none of them had considered a more realistic solution, because of the likelihood being slim to none or no time and resources to invest into such a thing. Lorenzo would be considered one of the lucky ones, having stumbled upon a businessman who shared his face. Bon always believed he was born for something greater than a boring office job, but whether this was the change he'd been waiting for was up for debate.

Bon exited The Vault, resolving a meeting with Gabrielle about issues within the establishment. He didn't bother to shield himself from the rain, calmly stepping into the seat of his car. "How does Lorenzo put up with visiting this place?" he mumbled, cleaning his fake glasses. Only now did he shudder, having restrained every cell in his body from acting out of character to one of the hooker's advancements. She offered a release from the life of business and stress, coming uncomfortably close to the man. He shot her offer down, in a near instant, displaying the cold, professional attitude Enzo was known for. She sighed a "Worth a shot," and left for some other guy to try and seduce. Other than that, nothing too out of the ordinary happened, and despite Gabrielle's intelligence and up-close attitude, she didn't suspect a thing during the meeting.

The discussion had ended when the phone rang, and Gabrielle handed it to Bon much to his surprise. Enzo wanted them in the Antonelli Palazzo, as if one meeting wasn't exhausting enough. It must've been about the rumours he's heard floating around; the ones about some Antonelli runner dead outside of an O'Halloran building, but he wasn't sure if it was true or not. Was this really what being part of a mafia was like? It was just as troublesome as his office job! Minus the potential threat of death. Bon stayed in his car for a few minutes looking into the mirror. "I'm here. Are we here for the rumours—Ahem! I'm here. This is about the rumours, yes?" Bon got the bubble in his throat again; he's done it so much that it comes naturally, now. His voice was near identical to Lorenzo's, and getting the bubble removed that miniscule difference.

The drive to the palazzo was uneventful. Stepping out, the nostalgic smell of petrichor wafted over his nose, and Bon made his way over to the mansion's entrance. The beautiful interior had lost its charm on Bon long ago, blanketed by the fact of who owned it. Already here was the don and Aoife, the O'Halloran that somehow became a part of the Antonellis. With all the other nameable associates being grown men, Bon sometimes wondered if she ever felt out of place before remembering that she was an O'Halloran to begin with. Bon knocked three times on a wall, letting himself in. Despite facing the don, he maintained his composure and blank face, something he's had to practice many times to not expose himself. Drying his glasses with a handkerchief, he said, "I'm here. This is about the rumours, yes?"

Ayama CrowOuttaHell​

 

[Ayama]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/8zfCpfpy/s4.png);"][div class=info][div class=text]"Don't be an idiot-

Stay out of my way."[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Zhang Kang-Jian[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "The Bear"[/div]
[div class=title]Police Detective[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

Nicholai seemed unable to hold Jian's gaze, which the detective couldn't really fault him for- it had to be extremely uncomfortable for him to be in this position. He rubbed the back of his neck in obvious agitation, taking his time in figuring out how to respond.

"That is just my dilemma unfortunately. I have no idea who it might be, or why the evidence points back to us when we have nothing to do with this."

Jian sighed- he'd been afraid of that. The sigh was echoed by Nicholai, who then returned to his composed, professional manner, folding his hands on top of the desk.

"Of course I will comply and help you as much as possible in your investigation," he said. "I want the situation dealt with quickly but, regretfully, I have nothing to give you at present."

Jian nodded- it was basically the best he could expect, under the circumstances.

"I understand, of course," he said. "If we share information and pool our resources, I'm confident that we'll soon get to the bottom of this- hopefully before whoever's behind it manages to start a war."

He paused, studying the young man's troubled expression and the frown creasing his forehead.

"You know..." he began speculatively. Alerted by the change in tone, Nicholai focused on his face. "Sometimes, with a case like this, it can help to take a step back- go outside, get some fresh air and a change in perspective."

The young lieutenant tilted his head quizzically, not following. Jian grinned.

"So, do you have any plans tonight?"

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/65yWc4v9/s2.png);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: Iron Tundra HQ

With: Nicholai[/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[CoachA]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/ScBBRG0.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"I have everything and nothing."

- Nicholai​

[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Nicholai Milkovich[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Checks"[/div]
[div class=title]Iron Tundra Lieutenant[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

Nicholai nodded his head in agreement, he didn't doubt that between the two of them the problem would be resolved quickly. Neither him, nor Alyenka, would stand for their image being tainted by some lowlife, and he knew Zhang would not allow a war to start if he could help it.

It still worried him though. Whomever the culprit was had to be quite smart to plant such misleading evidence, had to know a decent amount about the Iron Tundra in order to frame them so perfectly.

He knew he had to be frowning deeply as he was lost in thought, but couldn't bring himself to keep his expressions neutral.

Lifting his gaze back to Zhang as his voice changed, Nicholai couldn't help but notice the other man's grin. His interest piqued, but he didn't quite understand the meaning behind the detective's words. Of course it was always good to take a break, but they hadn't even really started investigating yet.

Nicholai felt his neck flush red as Zhang asked about his plans that night.

Surely he couldn't be asking Nicholai on a date, could he? He had to be reading too far into the question, the detective was only suggesting that they go over the case in a more casual setting.

The lieutenant's schedual was surprisingly simple on most days. He mostly went to work and went home, often not having the energy to go out and socialize after his day was over.

Yeah, He thought, He just wants to compare notes. You two are friends, you daft fool. Get your head out of the gutter. He doesn't see you like that.

"Uhm..." Nicholai cleared his throat and willed himself to stop blushing, and couldn't help the soft smile forming on his lips. "I don't have any plans at present, no. Did you have something in mind?"

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/ajsGZVi.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: Iron Tundra HQ

With: Jian[/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[Ayama]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/8zfCpfpy/s4.png);"][div class=info][div class=text]"Don't be an idiot-

Stay out of my way."[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Zhang Kang-Jian[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "The Bear"[/div]
[div class=title]Police Detective[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

When Jian's question was, at first, met with silence, he worried that he had made a mistake.

Did I misread things? he wondered, looking closely at the young man for signs of what he might be thinking as he sat there, hesitating.

"Ummm..." Nicholai began uncertainly. Jian waited.

It was true that he found the young lieutenant to be quite beautiful, and that he felt a connection between them. Every time they met, he felt it more, and he had thought that, at this point, it made sense to ask him out. Jian had good instincts about people, and he trusted them. So, if he wasn't wrong, then the hesitation must be due to something else. Jian's best guess was that he was concerned that, as the second-in-command of one of the city's ruling mafia outfits, he couldn't afford to be seen socializing with a cop. Which was fair.

Just as he was thinking this, however, Nicholai seemed to come to a decision, clearing his throat and smiling shyly at him. Jian felt hope bloom in his chest, with that smile.

"I don't have any plans at present, no. Did you have something in mind?"

Jian grinned wide.

"Would you care to join me for a drink at the Gatted Goy?" he suggested. "Avi just got in a new ale I've been meaning to try."

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/65yWc4v9/s2.png);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: Iron Tundra HQ

With: Nicholai[/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

 

[Pysren]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/NXpekCs.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"Life is not a bed of roses. Вся жизнь - это не ложе из роз."

- Unknown​

[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Саша Васильев[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "The Tailor"[/div]
[div class=title]Iron Tundra Tailor and Amourer[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

Blue eyes followed behind Alyenka as she went from the desk to the full body mirror in her office. Sacha turned to face her as he listened to her request for more 'pockets.' He didn't need go to where she was to know what she was talking about, or to see where she wanted the pockets. He knew his work inside and out like the back of his hand. He knew where every stitch was, and pretty the layout of the pockets. The fact that she wanted more pockets meant something. Or perhaps nothing at all other than the fact she just wanted more pockets. While the two were closer than what they should be there was still walls in place for the both of them. Alyenka was a mysterious woman.

He's has made so many suits for her that he knew her measurements by heart. And they rarely changed as she kept herself in shape. He was sure, if she... gained weight or lost it she'd let him know so he could adjust future outfits and any past ones she wanted to keep. Sacha was mulling over designs in his head for the new suit. Racking his brain for a design and what materials to use for her new suit. Pulling ideas here and there from past suits, the latest trends, and what Alyenka preferred. In the midst of him deciding on the placement of the pockets she broke into his thoughts with another request.

When Alyenka turned her full attention to him with a less than pleasant emotion crossing her face, he didn't take it personal. He knew what it was aimed at so he was face beautifully blank, a very well practiced look. He watched as she stepped over to her window but not before he caught that irritation in her face.

"I know just who to contact. I will speak with them swiftly and have the information you desire." He paused and turned to cross the space to the door and turned back to her halfway. "With how you run your business, someone on our side would have to be worst than a fool. Don't rule out that it may be a setup." Sacha added and waited for a moment more to see if she was done with his company. When she waved him off, he left her office and headed towards the elevator. Would someone really be so foolish as to cross Alyenka? I need a name and motive. There's too many players and variables... need to narrow it down. He thought as he finally made it to the elevator and pushed the button for his floor.

Once Sacha was in his office he went straight to his phone. Usually, in the past, he would have to contact someone to get in contact with Abaddon who was a informant. She wasn't strict for the Iron Tundra or anyone else. She was... like a mercenary in the regards of neutrality. Only recently had he gotten he work number so he could contact her directly. But even so, such matters should not be discussed over the phone. You'd never know who was listening or watching.

Sacha dialed Jessica, or rather Jess' work number and waited for her to pick up. They greeted each other with a simple 'hello' and a 'yes?' from her end. "Would you be able to meet me at the Döner - Dürüm within the next hour? I would like to discuss something."

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/Sz4Nj7N.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: Iron Tundra HQ

With: Alyenka Ayama | Jessica AstheRedSunRises [/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

[class=box] margin: auto; width: 1000px; height: 525px; border: 4px groove #000000; background: url(https://i.postimg.cc/1XvJmX5L/NLywaW.jpg); [/class] [class=img] margin-top: 19px; width: 200px; height: 480px; border: 4px groove #000000; filter: grayscale(50%); opacity: 0.8; [/class] [class=info] width: 100%; height: 100%; opacity: 0; display: flex; flex-flow: column no wrap; justify-content: center; align-content: center; [/class] [class=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseenter] (addClass "hover" "info") [/script] [script class=info version=2 on=mouseleave] (removeClass "hover" "info") [/script] [class=text] margin: auto; display: inline-block; font-size: 18px; color: #2f2d2d; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=main] margin-top: 19px; margin-left: -50px; width: 500px; height: 480px; [/class] [class=ID] width: 500px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-weight: bold; color: #2f2d2d; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] text-decoration: underline; text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #717070; [/class] [class=alias] display: inline-block; font-size: 25px; font-style: italic; color: #515151; [/class] [class=title] display: inline-block; font-size: 20px; color: #a1a1a1; [/class] [class=post] margin-top: -5px; width: 500px; height: 320px; border: 4px groove #000000; background-color: rgba(241, 241, 241, 0.8); font-size: 15px; color: #515151; overflow: hidden; [/class]

Spoiler: Plain Text

Sacha Vasiliev
Interaction with Jess and Alyenka

Blue eyes followed behind Alyenka as she went from the desk to the full body mirror in her office. Sacha turned to face her as he listened to her request for more 'pockets.' He didn't need go to where she was to know what she was talking about, or to see where she wanted the pockets. He knew his work inside and out like the back of his hand. He knew where every stitch was, and pretty the layout of the pockets. The fact that she wanted more pockets meant something. Or perhaps nothing at all other than the fact she just wanted more pockets. While the two were closer than what they should be there was still walls in place for the both of them. Alyenka was a mysterious woman.

He's has made so many suits for her that he knew her measurements by heart. And they rarely changed as she kept herself in shape. He was sure, if she... gained weight or lost it she'd let him know so he could adjust future outfits and any past ones she wanted to keep. Sacha was mulling over designs in his head for the new suit. Racking his brain for a design and what materials to use for her new suit. Pulling ideas here and there from past suits, the latest trends, and what Alyenka preferred. In the midst of him deciding on the placement of the pockets she broke into his thoughts with another request.

When Alyenka turned her full attention to him with a less than pleasant emotion crossing her face, he didn't take it personal. He knew what it was aimed at so he was face beautifully blank, a very well practiced look. He watched as she stepped over to her window but not before he caught that irritation in her face.

"I know just who to contact. I will speak with them swiftly and have the information you desire." He paused and turned to cross the space to the door and turned back to her halfway. "With how you run your business, someone on our side would have to be worst than a fool. Don't rule out that it may be a setup." Sacha added and waited for a moment more to see if she was done with his company. When she waved him off, he left her office and headed towards the elevator. Would someone really be so foolish as to cross Alyenka? I need a name and motive. There's too many players and variables... need to narrow it down. He thought as he finally made it to the elevator and pushed the button for his floor.

Once Sacha was in his office he went straight to his phone. Usually, in the past, he would have to contact someone to get in contact with Abaddon who was a informant. She wasn't strict for the Iron Tundra or anyone else. She was... like a mercenary in the regards of neutrality. Only recently had he gotten he work number so he could contact her directly. But even so, such matters should not be discussed over the phone. You'd never know who was listening or watching.

Sacha dialed Jessica, or rather Jess' work number and waited for her to pick up. They greeted each other with a simple 'hello' and a 'yes?' from her end. "Would you be able to meet me at the Döner - Dürüm within the next hour? I would like to discuss something."

 

[CoachA]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/ScBBRG0.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"I have everything and nothing."

- Nicholai​

[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Nicholai Milkovich[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Checks"[/div]
[div class=title]Iron Tundra Lieutenant[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

Nicholai felt himself blush deeper as Zhang grinned at him. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, smiling wider now.

Perhaps he hadn't been reading to far into things?

Of course Nicholai found the detective attractive, how could he not? The man was stunning, and so soothing to be around that Nicholai wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. The lieutenant didn't often get along with people as well as he got along with Zhang, even through their mostly brief interactions he had come to enjoy the other man's company. There was no doubt in his mind that the two of them had a connection, and nothing would make him happier than to get to know Zhang better.

Nicholai hadn't been to the Gatted Goy in quite some time, mostly having been to busy to make it to the bar after a long day. He always liked the Goy, it was a nice change of pace from his day-to-day and the liquor was always good there. It was always nice to see Avi as well.

"Of course, I'm always up for a drink." He smiled "Avi always stocks the best vodka as well."

Surely his dog wouldn't mind him being late home either, his tardiness would be for a good cause. Oh would he have some gossip to tell the doberman by the end of the night.

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/ajsGZVi.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: Iron Tundra HQ

With: Zhang[/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

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[Ayama]

[div class=box]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/nVWTsNK3/r2-1.png);"][div class=info][div class=text]"You either work with me,

Or you get out of my way."[/div][/div][/div]

[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]

[div class=name]Alyenka Karmazin[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "The Iron Vice"[/div]
[div class=title]Leader of the Iron Tundra[/div]​

[/div]

[div class=post]

"I know just who to contact. I will speak with them swiftly and have the information you desire," Sacha responded, his manner professional and impeccable as always. It was exactly what I had expected. He turned away from me and was halfway to the door before he paused, turning back. "With how you run your business, someone on our side would have to be worst than a fool. Don't rule out that it may be a setup." I wanted to groan out loud, but kept my calm. Both of those thing were true- this was obviously a setup, and whoever was behind it was a fool. And before this was all over, I would make sure they knew exactly just how much.

Sacha waited for me to respond, to see if I wanted to say anything else or make another request, but I simply nodded and sent him away with a wave of my hand, turning back to the window as he left the office and quietly closed the door behind him.

I turned back to the city- dirty and grey and, on this side of the river, mine. If this wasn't someone from our ranks, or unaffiliated, then one of the other four groups was responsable. I ruled out the O'Hallorans immediately- this wasn't their M.O., and they were about as subtle as a sack of bricks. The Higashi were out too- they were too honorable to engage in these kind of dealings, though it wasn't impossible that someone in their organization was responsable. Their young leader didn't exactly have control over her people, and she didn't inspire fear or respect the way her father had. Which left the Italians, and the Blossom themselves.

I had to admit; though both were perfectly plausible, I felt like it was entirely in the latter's style to set us up so they would have an excuse to start messing with our business. I trusted those snakes about as far as I could throw them, but I wasn't about to start a war without some solid evidence- especially not if we were actually being set up by someone, and us going after the Crimson Blossom was exactly what they wanted. I sighed, turning away from the window once more and walking back to my desk. I reached for the intercom.

"Tell Nic to get over here when he's done with that meeting," I instructed. I needed to know what he had told that cop, and we needed a plan of action to deal with this on our end.

[/div][/div]

[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/V66BvFJy/r2-2.png);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: Iron Tundra HQ

With: No one[/div][/div][/div]

[/div]

[clickable name, hover tags & hidden scroll]
{coded by Ayama}​

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[StaidFoal]

Agatha McCarthy | The Saint | Mercenary
Location: 'Pine of Sanctuary' Church

Even in the cold, rainy weather and the mob syndicates running rampant with the police on their payroll, this classroom of kids smiled brightly. Father Vittorio gathered the orphans in the church to give them an education when nobody else would, and he gave Agatha the pride of handling it. She gladly accepted his offer, never missing a chance to fulfill her duties as a nun. If you had to ask, this was just as important as her side job. With a soothing smile, she settled the classroom and concluded the lesson, but not before a young girl with blond hair raised her hand. "Sister Agatha? What happens when we die?"

"Good question, my dear!" she replied in her friendliest voice. "When we die, our soul separates from our earthly body and we stand before God for judgement. We then enter heaven, Purgatory or hell. Heaven is the ultimate end and fulfillment of the deepest human longings, the state of supreme, definitive happiness. Those who are free from all sin enter heaven immediately. Purgatory is a place of purification, for those who die in a state of grace and friendship with God but who are not yet fully purified. Those in Purgatory are assured a place in heaven after their purification. We pray for those in Purgatory, that they may soon be with God in heaven. Hell is for those who have willingly chosen to reject God and his love. If we persist in a state of serious sin, we damn ourselves to hell." The girl suddenly appeared uncomfortable, as Agatha's tone was struck with a hint of coldness that contrasted to her loving face. "At the end of time, our Lord will come again to judge the living and the dead. All souls will be rejoined with their bodies, and those in Purgatory will be joined to the blessed in heaven. The Last Judgement will reveal that God’s justice triumphs over all the injustices committed by his creatures and that God’s love is stronger than death. Before that happens, it is our duty to ensure everyone ends up before God."

Their loud voices hadn't ceased after she finished, but the girl had continued to gawk at Agatha. Class was then dismissed, and the chatter died down. Agatha stayed in the crudely made classroom, sitting on one of the many counters pushed against the wall, looking out the window where the wind howled and the rain shot at passersby. Decades ago, she was just like that blond girl: jovial and curious, taken from the dirty streets by the church and nursed to back to health. They were all so inexperienced back then, the only thing they knew of fights being weak punches and slapping. But Agatha, on the other hand, witnessed real battle first hand. She saw blood drip from the knife that slew his mother and the fatal beating her father received from the loan sharks. She thought her parents were talking about the creatures in the ocean, not the vicious animals that preyed on the weak.

Soon, Agatha had left the makeshift classroom. She passed through many rooms, spotting Father Vittorio in the confession booth hearing someone out. She ducked into a staircase leading down, ending up at a rotting, wooden door with a degrading lock. She held out the key, just as rusty as the knob itself, and unlocked the room. As she walked inside, red-colored lights flickered on. A display case sat against the wall, miniature spotlights directed at each weapon. Semi-automatics, pistols, combat knives, and piles upon piles of ammo lay in sight. Standing in front of a mirror, she slung her nun clothes off, revealing a latex version of it. Agatha took out her stilettos, taking two from the rack to replace them. Against her previous target, it took ten times more force than usual to dig it in, having dulled over the years. "You're up for a cleaning, aren't you, Abraham?" she said, inspecting the pistol. It was her first ever weapon, so of course age was baring its mark. She set the pistol aside and took another from the rack.

Donning her regular clothes once more, Agatha locked up the basement and re-entered the chapel. For now, she'd wait and wander in the church until something eventful would happen. If not, then that meant she had some free time.​