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Realistic or Modern π’ 𝐘 𝐍 𝐃 𝐈 𝐂 𝐀 𝐓 𝐄 𝐃 - 𝐀 𝐍𝐨𝐒𝐫/𝐎𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐒𝐳𝐞𝐝 π‚π«π’π¦πž 𝐑𝐏 (πˆπ‚)

[div class=box]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/cQpgFz8/LeftM.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"There is good in everyone. You just have to look harder."

- Milo
[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]
[div class=name]Milo Gabriel[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Jinx"[/div]
[div class=title]College Student[/div]​
[/div]

[div class=post]
Milo listened quietly as the others spoke, deciding what they were going to do for the rest of the day. Ainsley, who had been nearly asleep leaned against the blond, perked up at the mention of clubbing. He chuckled at the sudden burst of energy.

Milo smiled as the others planned, thinking about what he would do for the day. He knew he didn't really want to go clubbing, but he didn't want to be a buzzkill by not going.

He hadn't even noticed that Jess wasn't present until something was said, having been so absorbed in his studying that he didn't realize that the entire group wasn't present. Curiosity piqued, Milo wondered what Jess could be doing that was holding her up from being there. Hopefully everything was alright, Jess was smart but Milo had always been a worrier.

Thinking for a moment, Milo weighed his options for the rest of the day. Sure he wanted to spend time with his friends, but he didn't have the energy to keep up with them. Maybe he would miss out this time and be sure to go the next time?

Milo spoke up as Maura returned to the table with coffee and water. "I think I'll have to take a rain check. I promised Chef that I would be home early tonight, and I'm afraid I don't have the energy to keep up with everyone."



[/div][/div]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/YTCnfRd/RightM.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Autumn Leaves

With: The Young'uns[/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]
 
[div class=box]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/9uiIj0U.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"I do the one thing that scares me the most every day. I remember."

- Nili
[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]
[div class=name]Nili Belmonte[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Trigger"[/div]
[div class=title]Member of Higashi-Gumi[/div]​
[/div]

[div class=post]
At this point, it really didn’t even occur to me that someone was waiting in the rain. I was in the car, watching the rain drops whip my windshield and the music was blaring from the radio on such volume that I barely heard the outside traffic. If they were waiting outside, then I was…no, I wasn’t sorry, I was indifferent.

Once I got out, I walked towards the warehouse. The distance really wasn’t that great so using an umbrella would only be bothering. The man waiting for me looked like a classic street fighter thug, big and bulky, frown formed on his face as if he was annoyed. Probably because I was late. But…I had this thing I had to take care of…and then the other thing…

Seeing my slender hand vanish in his, I looked him in the eyes but only for a very brief moment. It was hard for me to keep the eye contact with people in the last months, or was it years? I couldn’t tell anymore. And no, it wasn’t only because of the drug flowing in my system though it had its fair share on my inability to look people in the eyes. But this social awkwardness had been mine even before I discovered the sweet relief of the needles.

His handshake though, that was something else. I was not out so much that I wouldn’t see the annoyed face expression and I definitely felt the strength applied in such a simple gesture as a handshake. "Pleasure." I said simply and pulled my hand back, rubbing it a little because his hand has left its impact. This man was supposed to accompany me today. And it raised so many mixed feelings in me. Why did I actually need a bodyguard? Especially the one who seemed to be bothered with my very existence. Or maybe he was just that grumpy frowning type of person…

Anyway, he let us both in, thank god, my hair was already pretty damp. That was the advantage of having a pixie cut though. Once inside, it would take minutes for them to get dry and in shape again. I used to wear a shoulder length, the very same as Mahli, the only difference was the fringe I wore with it. But with that change, I changed everything. Every habit, every aspect of my life, every feature that reminded me of my twin.

I didn’t really say anything since I didn’t think I should. He knew my name, I knew his, we didn’t have to become all good buddies, bonding of the deliveries. I wanted to get my job done and he wanted to get rid of me (yes, I got that feeling he didn’t like me very much).

"So, you have any idea what we're looking for? I wasn't even given a picture."

I looked around and honestly, I didn’t know how to answer. A package. A box wrapped in a brown paper. It would be in a wooden crate with a small symbol of Higashi Gumi It was always the same. I guess I wasn’t important enough to know what I was delivering. But I wouldn’t complain. It never concerned me. All I have to do was bring the package to a given place. Job done. "I'll tell you when I see it." I muttered and walked around, looking for the very same package as million times before.

Of course, it was one of the last crates in the very back of the warehouse. I walked to it, checked the symbol and nodded. "Here, this one." I said to my companion and waited for him to open the crate for me. The package was inside and I couldn’t wait to get this job over with.



[/div][/div]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/iHHxIo3.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Sōko

With: Kurusu Akashi ( Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian [/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]
 
1586400743726.png
Higashi Kurata| Omoikane | Higashi-Gumi Accountant
Location: Higashi Compound
-> Autumn Leaves


β€œEverything is dependent on me? If that’s the case, then you’re going to have to give me a little bit more than that to convince me to work with you, otherwise you can rot in hell. I don’t take jobs from idiotic phone calls that give me zero chances in deciding on if you’re even worth my time. Why haven’t you come by my office where I have actual hours?”

Kurata nodded as if they were face-to-face, "Understand that I'm in no position where traveling to your office is a simple venture. You want an incentive? I have enough funds to earn you a nice place in the city for more than a year. If money isn't enough... I'm sure there's someone you want brought to light, killed, or tortured. Perhaps someone such as," she said, crossing her legs, "the one who slew your dear Alexandra." An arrogant smirk found its way to Kurata's face. "You want more details, then meet me at Autumn Leaves. I'll be in green clothes; sit in a nearby seat facing away from me. I'll be waiting." After hearing Atlas' answer, she hung up.

Certainly took me long enough, she thought to herself, putting the outline on Akari's desk. In a few minutes, she was back in her car, driving back into the drizzle of rain. Rest was a rare luxury during this time; a time where the oyabun is ill, the Crimson Blossom making themselves a well-known nuisance, and the Soko being raided. If the worse came to be, the Higashi-Gumi would most likely fall apart, and Kura didn't want to be there if it happened. She lightly tugged on the collar of her clothing, feeling suffocated in the car. But instead of heat, it was a dreaded sense of paranoia. On the way towards the Autumn Leaves, she took a dozen unnecessary turns to lose a pursuer that didn't exist.

Soon, Kura entered the tearoom, looking around with a default look of indignance, as if she viewed herself to be superior than the regular bystanders around. But it was most likely an attempt to counteract the glares sent her way by the old hag. The Autumn Leaves would have been the perfect place to spend free time if it weren't for the constant sense of unease and contempt Kura felt as soon as she walked in to the time she left. As always, she ignored Rose and whoever else was there and sat down, opening a book of Japanese poems. She kept an eye on the entrance, occasionally thinking if Atlas was actually coming or not. But Kura shook her head of doubt. Once this meeting was over, she'd be a step closer to freedom...

Sicarius Sicarius
 
[div class=box]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/cJVcw1sT/6-B66-D3-D4-EFEF-438-D-9-A1-C-E0996-B717677.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]""If you mess with the Family,

you mess with me."[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]
[div class=name]Hal D'Novra[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Rabbia"[/div]
[div class=title]Lieutenant for the Antonellis[/div]​
[/div]

[div class=post]
Hal sat quietly and listened as the meeting started, not wanting to butt-in and interrupt one of the bosses. He didn't have anything to add so he gathered as much information as he could, being sure to keep his attention on the conversation happening in front of him.

Connor seemed to be telling the truth about their dead associate, but Hal hadn't thought the O'Hallorans had anything to do with it in the first place. Hal knew the Bull wouldn't do anything to potentially harm one of his family members, especially with Aoife working for the Antonellis. Thus taking the O'Hallorans out of their list of suspects.

Hal wouldn't voice it before Lorenzo had the chance to speak, but he completely agreed with Connor's theory. Though he wasn't sure the Higashi-Gumi had anything to do with it, he was more than a little suspisious of the Crimson Blossom. There was no doubt in his mind that someone was setting them up, trying to keep the attention away from the real culprit. If only they were any closer to finding exactly who was behind all this.

This wouldn't be the Iron Tundra's normal cup of tea, so Hal wouldn't expect them to be behind the murder. It obviously wasn't the Irish, and Hal had his own doubts about it being the Higashi-Gumi. Leaving the Crimson Blossom as the prime suspect in the Lieutenant's eyes.


[/div][/div]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/jS261n2Z/6-B66-D3-D4-EFEF-438-D-9-A1-C-E0996-B717677-1.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Gatted Goy

With: Connor, Declan, Aoife, 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]
 
[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]
"It's pretty obvious that whoever did this wanted to be careful while implicating us," Sacha replied after a moment of careful consideration. "Covering up as to hide any identifying marks. Using a thick accent. While we have a few who still sound as if they are fresh from the mother land, none are so stupid. That, my dear Alyenka, is their mistake and our gain."

My lips stretched into a slow smile at his form of address and the low, conspiratorial tone. This was why I trusted Sacha above what one would expect for his position. This was why I turned to him and confided in him and summoned him regularly to my office alone, why he was both confidant and advisor to me. Because he had absolute unwavering confidence in me, and in us (as in, the group), and this restored my own confidence in times when, like this one, it was getting shaky.

"The Antonelli's are calculating enough to pull this off," he continued his analysis. I nodded along as he spoke. "They've corrupted most of the city. They could view us as a threat. Especially if they know we are trying to branch out. And the O'Halloran's? I can see no motive but I wouldn't count them out... their just unlikely. The Higashi-Gumi could be doing this to re-establish their foothold in this city since their leader fell ill and now the granddaughter leads. The perfect figurehead and guise. I'm sure the Oyabun still pulls the strings from the dark."

"Or..." I completed pensively, voicing aloud what we were both thinking, "the Crimson Blossom could be setting us up- giving themselves an excuse to break the truce and come after us."

We were both silent for a moment, pondering the possibilities and their implications, then I rose from my desk, walked over to the bar, poured a couple of drinks and brought them back, handing Sacha his before sitting down again. I took a slow sip, swirling the amber liquid around in my glass as I gazed out the window, a frown creasing my forehead.

"When we solve this issue," I began, my tone dark and somewhat ominous, "we need to do so in a way that sends a message. We need to let this city know that if they try to mess with our business, they will live just long enough to regret it."

I turned back to Sacha, knowing he would understand exactly what I meant- he and I were on the same wavelength- always had been, somehow...

*****

It had been a little over a year since Sacha had joined the group. Aleksei had bought a suit from his shop and I had immediately picked up on the quality and the fine cut when he came into work that day. Fully aware that I coudn't have my employees looking better than me, I'd summoned him to my office and demanded to know where he'd purchased the suit.

Once he told me about the shop and its talented tailor, and I had a chance to investigate more, I knew we needed him on the payroll. I sent Aleksei back with an offer, and Sacha took his time before deciding to accept. But accept he did and, though he still has his shop, most of his work is now done for us.

It's a pretty great deal, actually. We're now the best-dressed group in town (except for maybe the Antonellis), thanks to him. We're also far better armed than we used to be, since Sacha curates our armory and selects our guns with as much care he puts into the fabrics for our suits.

The very first time he made a suit for me, I knew I'd managed to snag a rare talent. The quality of the fabric and stitching was astonishing, the clean lines and elegant statement they made was surprising. And the man himself seemed to embody his work perfectly: never a hair or a crease out of place, always perfectly composed, perfectly prepared, never ruffled or out of sorts. He projected the confidence and constancy I wanted for myself- for my group. He helped us look the way we needed to be perceived- competent, efficient, together.

In the beginning, I had visited him in the armory, but soon I took instead to summoning him up to my office. At first it was fittings and fabric samples and weapons suggestions and presentations. But that quickly turned into confiding in him, asking for his opinion or advice, and time just spent together like this, with a shared purpose or conversation and a drink in hand. My Tailor was simply invaluable to me, and I couldn't quite believe the luck that had delivered him into my employ.

[/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]
 
[div class=box]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/FBGNDrC/left.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"Quote here."

- Name
[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]
[div class=name]Delilah Burnns[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Doc"[/div]
[div class=title]Veterinarian/Unofficial Nurse[/div]​
[/div]

[div class=post]
Delilah sat, contently reading her book and occasionally sipping her drink. She couldn't deny that it was nice to wind down once in a while, even if she was a major workaholic.

Every now and then she would pause in her reading and look around the bar for a moment. Admittedly Delilah wasn't much of a fan of socializing at times, but people watching had proven to be quite entertaining at times. She had been keeping a loose eye on the booth in the corner where it seemed a sit down was happening between mobsters, a lazy interest pulling her attention to the group. Of course she wouldn't know what was going on, but she couldn't help but wonder.

Turning back to her reading and quickly becoming engrossed in her book, she didn't notice Astrid entering the bar nor did she notice her friend walking over to Delilah's table. She jumped slightly in surprise at Astrid's unexpected voice, looking up quickly to see who had startled her.

Delilah smiled and gestured to the seat across from her for Astrid to sit as she closed the book, her friend seemed troubled by something. "I didn't even notice you come in. You doing ok? You look distracted."


[/div][/div]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/YbV6L55/right.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Gatted Goy

With: Astrid[/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]
 

1494A85D-3A85-4645-BA6F-25D8D5161FB5.jpeg


Jessica - Abaddon - Informant
Location: DΓΆner - DΓΌrΓΌm > Autumn Leaves

Jessica grinned as the envelope was slid under her hand, discreetly pocketing it as the man left. Oh, keep an ear to the ground she would. She could feel the weight in the envelope, and it certainly felt a little heavier than normal. Just her style. She stood from her own chair, heading back onto the streets with her head held high. Her phone buzzed with an alarm she had set this morning, but she shut it off. She already knew what it was for; a reminder to meet at Autumn Leaves.

She walked back down the street, towards her car that she parked probably farther away than she needed it parked, avoiding conversation besides short hellos with anyone she could. Soon enough she was in her car, driving to her favorite muffins in this world. The coffee was a bonus, sure, but the muffins.

********

Jess opened the door enthusiastically, spotting the table the rest of her group was at, and sliding into a chair unceremoniously. She could smell the coffee and baking muffins all throughout the cafe, and compared to the smell of city gas and cigarettes it was heavenly. As she sat down, she snatched a muffin without even saying hello, and launching into her story.

β€œYeah, I’m late, I know, but I got called in for a super secret job with a super secret client.” She said, clearly fishing for questions and saying in that tone that meant it really wasn’t a secret. Her grinning like a fool didn’t help, even with her mumbling though the food in her mouth. β€œWanna know everything about it??”
 
Lei.jpg
Lei-Zhong | The Raven
Crimson Blossom Enforcer
Location: Basement Of Crimson Blossom HQ
Mentions: Fan Ayama Ayama

There was something wrong with him, Lei thought to himself as he watched Fan torture the poor prisoner. He forced himself into a semblance of composure, the feigned apathy and indifference a guise his conscience struggled to tear down with every plea, every cry, every whimper of the prisoner. An acute feeling of 'wrongness' threw his stomach into upheaval. It was all so disgusting. Fan's revelment in the man's misery, her satisfaction at making him an accomplice to her torture, and most of all, letting himself for letting this happen, helping Fan in her dirty deeds with the obedience of a beaten dog.

When Fan finally got the information she wanted from the man and stopped torturing him, Lei felt anything but relief. He knew what came next, what Fan did with those who were no longer useful to her and what she would tell him to do. The way she looked at the prisoner said it all, she had broken another toy and no longer wanted it. Sympathy for the man rose up within Lei as he looked at the man's hunched back, bleeding just like his now crippled hand. He could feel the bile threatening to come up, but pushed it down. She didn't deserve the satisfaction.

"Kill him," she said, her words were monotonous, like she was just listing off a chore for him to do. He supposed that to her, there was no difference between killing someone and housework. Lei nodded, not trusting his voice to not crack. Fan left and he looked at the man before him in silence for a few minutes. The man muttered something quietly under his breath, but Lei wasn't close enough to make out what he was saying; it sounded vaguely of a chant of some sort.

Reaching into the waistband of his jeans, Lei pulled out a pistol, cocking it and aiming it at the male. The prisoner's muttering increased in volume, allowing Lei to finally make out what he was saying, "Please. My wife, my children. Please! My wife, my children!" His finger hesitated for a moment, trembling slightly on the trigger. "I'm sorry," Lei said as he pulled the trigger, watching as the prisoner crumpled onto the ground limp, a bullet wound in his forehead. He knelt down, closing the eyelids of the man and muttering a prayer for his soul. He didn't believe in God; it was hard to when you lived a like his. Still, he couldn't help himself.

Hoisting the corpse over his shoulder, he made his way to the Crimson Blossom's body disposal area. There was a large furnace they used for incinerating the corpses of their enemies. Lei had made his trip there more than he cared to admit. He threw the man's corpse in, a wave of hot air blasting his face. A sudden legarthy overtook his body, his limbs felt heavy, like he was moving through lead even though he was no longer weighed down by a corpse. Smelling the burning flesh almost made him retch so he quickly backed away from the furnace, somehow finding the strength to dash back to headquarters. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to himself as he made his way back.
 
[div class=box]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/CJPZ8Pp/LeftAi.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"The truth is always worth it."

- Ainsley
[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]
[div class=name]Ainsley Woodbead[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Shark"[/div]
[div class=title]Journalist[/div]​
[/div]

[div class=post]
Ainsley remained lazily propped against Milo, nearly dozing off for a moment before going clubbing was mentioned. They perked up a bit and grinned at the mention of going out, lifting their head off Milo's shoulder. "We all know I'm up for going out any time." Granted, they were tired so they likely wouldn't stay out the whole night but Ainsley was not going to pass up a chance to go clubbing with his friends.

They remained leaning against Milo, the lanky college student making a surprisingly comfortable pillow. Ainsley glanced at the door every time it opened, lazily keeping an eye on the comings and goings to see if there was anything worth while going on.

Ainsley smiled when Jess finally walked through the door of the Autumn Leaves, nodding to her and sitting up in his seat. Surely she had an interesting reason for being so late in her arrival and of course Ainsley's curiosity was already piqued. The journalist leaned forward, elbows on the table as Jess sat down and waited impatiently for his friend to spill.

"Well now I'm intrigued. You have to tell me."


[/div][/div]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/dkc21BZ/RightAi.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Autumn Leaves

With: The Young'uns[/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]
 
[div class=box]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/rkSFFiO.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"I'm not always sarcastic. Sometimes I'm sleeping."

- Astrid
[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]
[div class=name]Astrid Haralson[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Sherlock"[/div]
[div class=title]Forensic pathologist[/div]​
[/div]

[div class=post]
Seeing Delilah jump like that brought a soft chuckle to Astrid’s lips. β€œSorry, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” she said, sitting down to join her friend in a drink or two. Or like a bottle now, based on how Dee felt at this point. She indulged in her cancer stick for a while and the index finger of her left hand circled the brim of the glass. This day was just really going downhill and she either needed to drink to forget or just go home and get hugs from her three mutts in bed.

"I didn't even notice you come in. You doing ok? You look distracted." Delilah said to her with a slight flash of concern on her face. Well, she was not wrong, Astrid was definitely not her usual self at that very moment. And seeing the specks of ginger every once in a while, was not helping at all. Fuck, she couldn’t get wasted. At least not here. It might very well end up with her stumbling there in her expensive heels and giving the old man a piece of her mind. And kind regards from her dad.

Dee blinked the idea away and smiled at her friend. "I just had a long day." she said vaguely. Technically, that was no lie. "I had a boy on my table today. 19 years old." she started quietly and even though it was not real reason of her bad mood, it seemed proper. And then again, it did get to her a little, it always did when she had to cut into such a young person. "The kid had his whole life in front of him. And instead of living the time of his life, I was butchering him today. Shit, he was mangled to death. What kind of gorilla does that to a kid?" she asked, more herself then Delilah but it still felt good to lay at least something off her chest. She probably shouldn’t talk about her cases. No, not probably. She shouldn’t. Period. But this was Delilah, Dee could trust her.

Downing her glass, Astrid took a deep breath and unbuttoned her jacket. "Fuck, Del, he…his broken ribs punctured his lungs. He had no chance. And whoever did it, only used bare hands." she mumbled and flashed a very quick look to the back. Stop it, Astrid, not your business, don’t play a detective here. she thought and put out her cigarette a bit harsher than she wanted to.

"Well, I guess that’s the toll. I’m working a shitty job so…no wonder." she added with a bitter laugh, coming back from the black. "Anyway, what’s up with you? Feels like I haven’t seen you in ages."



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

With: Delilah CoachA CoachA [/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]
 
Last edited:
[div class=box]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/qvspG3zT/Jay-1.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"I live for the rush,

I live for the thrill."[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]
[div class=name]Zhang Ji-Fai[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Hex"[/div]
[div class=title]Student, delinquent, and all-around troublemaker[/div]​
[/div]

[div class=post]
When Bai mentioned that she was keeping her ear to the ground on something, I felt a slight twinge in my stomach- I knew exactly what it was her bosses wanted her keeping an eye out on. When she suggested clubbing, I grinned wide. We hadn't gone out to a club in a while, and partying with Bai and the rest of them was always guaranteed fun.

Maura blushed and agreed rather noncommittally. If there were two members of this group who were the most different from each other, it was definitely me and her. She looked at Milo (who was the most similar to her in the group) with some concern, then went to get more coffee.

Milo, unsurprisingly, opted out. It was easy enough to get him to tag along most places, but super loud music, dancing, and staying up all night were where he generally drew the line. Couldn't blame him, really- the guy's workload was insane. Ainsley was, of course, all for it.

The bell above the door jingled merrily and Jess walked in at last. She slid into her usual seat and grabbed a muffin first thing, same as us, before immediately taunting the group with the reason she turned up late. Her wide grin was infectious as always, and I found myself grinning back.

" 'course we do," I lazily replied as Ainsley leaned forward with obvious interest- those two made quite a pair, with Jess' constant sharing of (more or less) secret news from all over the city and Ainsley's fathomless and rabid curiosity. I laughed.

"You heard 'em Jess- now spill," I instructed as I grabbed another muffin. "Btw, we're going clubbing tonight," I added around yet another unceremonious mouthful, turning to grin at Bai.

Can't wait top get with this on the dancefloor, can ya? I thought inanely, wiggling my eyebrows in her direction. There was about a 50% percent chance she would laugh, but it was equally likely she'd just roll her eyes and punch me again.

[/div][/div]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.postimg.cc/bYxLpYDv/Jay.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Autumn Leaves

With: The Young'uns[/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]
 
1587587043585.png
______________________________________________________________________
Declan 'Prince' O'Halloran, the Sledgehammer - Lt. of the O'Halloran Family
______________________________________________________________________
Location: The Gatted Goy

Manners. It was always refreshing to see them freely given, but it was to be expected. The Italians always spoke as well as they dressed, and Lorenzo seemed to have enough sense about him to avoid open war with the O'Hallorans. Declan's money-green eyes pinched in thought as he listened, weighing every word said and exchanged, but also observing body language. As it was, the Antonelli's had a Sword of Damocles over Connor with Aiofe. All it would take was a word, no matter how sharp the girl was with a gun...

But Enzo ain't stupid, Declan reminded himself, flexing his massive hands, pitted knuckles cracking and heavy rings glinting in the modest candle that sat between the two parties. When the server came by, Declan added a whiskey to Connor's order. If he was going to watch his Da' and the Wop circle each other like a couple of tigers, he was going to at least have a stiff drink on hand. Besides, it took all of five minutes for Connor to turn the sights on the Orient. In that moment, Declan cursed himself for not betting.

Taking the glass in hand, Declan gave it a contemplative swirl. His eyes found Hal sitting across from him, and couldn't help the cat-like smirk that curled at the corner of his lip. It was too perfect. Each boss brought their Lieutenant, each of which happened to be world-class sluggers. A classic flex and counter-flex, having those who could be guilty out in the open. Declan sipped the whiskey, swirling it on his tongue the savor the malty, smokey flavor.

For now, there was little else to do but be seen and not heard, at least not until Connor laid out the foundations of his plans. Declan had ideas, but the Bull had that fabled left hook that came out of nowhere to take people by surprise.

 
Kurusu "The Fang"Akashi
Location: The Sōko, Warehouse.
With: Nili Belmonte
Tags: _amaranth_ _amaranth_
HgqJnIm.jpg

"I'll tell you when I see it"

I rolled my eyes at her statement, not sure if a user like her could even find her hand. Junkies tick me off. Ugh... Gotta get my head in the game. I turn away from her as I started to shift through these boxes and crates. It looks like the package would be a dog-whistle of some kind, an average person won't pick up on it but me or the junkie could or at least that's my line of thought. But if it is a dog-whistle then I might just be deaf because crummy boxes look the same to me. I try not to take this crowbar and smash these boxes but it's getting hard.

"Here, this one."

Finally! She's useful."Alrighty." I could almost skip over with joy. I get into position then I slip the curved end of the crowbar beneath the crate's lid. My first pull on the crowbar was to see how strongly they nailed down the lid. It was surprising to say how tight the crate was sealed, nothing I couldn't handle, of course but I guess they really didn't want some mook to nick the blasted thing. I grip the crowbar's handle with my hands then I heave the lid off. "Pick it up, I'll see if we're being followed." I take the crowbar with me to the door, walking slowly as I didn't want to tip off anyone that was peeking inside.

I lean against door then pull it open. I stopped when I had enough room to peak out and kept watch.
 
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↓ Atlas
[div class=circlepic][/div]
[div class=postinfo]Location: The Autumn Leaves
mood: Anxious
interactions: Kurata
tags: StaidFoal StaidFoal [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=text]
"Understand that I'm in no position where traveling to your office is a simple venture. You want an incentive? I have enough funds to earn you a nice place in the city for more than a year. If money isn't enough... I'm sure there's someone you want brought to light, killed, or tortured. Perhaps someone such as…"

There was a brief pause, as if the caller waited for Atlas’ full attention before delivering with a dramatic flair. The gravitas in their tone made him slightly curious, and he leaned into the speaker more intently.

the one who slew your dear Alexandra.”

Atlas’ eyes shot wide open as a fierce fit of rage spread throughout his body like a wildfire. His bottom lip quivered slightly, and he clenched his free hand tightly. His eyes moved rapidly from left to right as he began diving into his memory; trying his damnedest to analyze who could possibly be on the other end. They had casually given the notion that they had information, but it was obvious that the caller was heavily involved with the Higashi-Gumi. Their attempts to be both covert and vague was already a red flag, however they had flaunted the fact that they owned a great wealth of knowledge about the murder of his wife. The Gumi did an exceptional job in hiding their handiwork, so they were never exactly linked to her cause of death; at least, in the public eye. The person behind the call would know that she was killed by the Higashi-Gumi only if they were directly connected to the syndicate themselves. The Higashi-Gumi killed civilians relatively often, so it was not out of the ordinary enough for her murder to stick out. No… for the caller to know specifically her identity as well as his, they had to be greatly invested into the group.

Despite his best effort, he could not place the owner of the voice. He could only conclude that this was someone that played a more indirect role in the gang... administrative more than likely. They did not seem like the stupid type; the usually dense but capable lackey that did the dirty work. They carefully played their hand with very high stakes, confident in their information enough to reach out to former law enforcement. Judging by their previous statements, they indicated that they already had a plan laid out. Atlas was apparently a key player, and they took a gamble by contacting him.

β€œYou want more details, then meet me at Autumn Leaves. I'll be in green clothes; sit in a nearby seat facing away from me. I'll be waiting."

Gritting his teeth, Atlas closed his eyes in hesitant acceptance before letting out a slight whisper.

β€œFine.”

As soon as he gave his confirmation, the unknown caller had hung up.

Atlas stood still, weighing everything in his mind. Eventually he placed the phone back down and turned toward his room. He was frustrated; extremely frustrated. He had to abruptly end his shower only to be hit by this absolute bombshell. He was still not fully over the effects of the alcohol either, nor was he even dressed.

Grabbing a long-sleeved collared shirt, black slacks, and an overcoat, Atlas quickly put on his clothes. He turned to an end table next to his bed and grabbed a pen and his journal. Everything in the coming conversation would be recorded. Every. Detail. Once everything was in order, he began to make his way out of the apartment complex.

The Autumn leaves was a ways away, so he would have to go by car if he wanted to make it there in ample time. However, he was not exactly confident in his driving ability at the moment, and he wasn’t entirely irrational when it came to intoxication. He wasn’t about to let himself die before getting his revenge after all.

After a few minutes, Atlas managed to hail a cab. He watched as the rain began to calm, with light droplets of rain adorning the foggy windows of the taxi. The sky was still gloomy however, darkened and greyed beyond clear visibility. He could barely make out most of the buildings the vehicle passed by, and he was a bit more grateful to himself for not attempting to drive. That would have been absolute hell, and he was sure he wouldn’t be able to get away from having a DUI a third time.

Eventually they arrived at the bookstore and Atlas tipped the driver. He made his way through the doors and took a moment to take in his surroundings. He had heard of the place, but he had never actually been there in person. It wasn’t like he spent a lot of time reading leisurely. In fact, most of his reading stemmed from his actual work; when he had a case anyways.

His eyes scanned the room in search of the one who had contacted him earlier. He could feel the gazes of the patrons who have never seen this man step foot in the establishment before, and he couldn’t blame him. He definitely stuck out like a sore thumb.

Suddenly he managed to spot her. A young woman with a book in hand, occasionally flipping a page. She had dark brown hair with blue eyes and was wearing green oriental clothes. The clothes were as fashionable as they were valuable; at least upon appearance. Atlas wasn’t particularly well versed in fashion, but he could tell that whatever she was wearing was not made from cheap fabric. He took in her face as he got closer to her vicinity. She made sure not to acknowledge him nor face him; however, her eyes occasionally followed him to send the message that she had taken notice of him.

She had a way about her. She gave off a dignified aura, and a posture that reminded him of elegance. The way she grasped the paper before turning it, it was handled in a soft and refined manner. He was a bit surprised to see how someone as allegedly composed as her would even be slightly involved with the Higashi-Gumi. Though lately these days… nothing fully surprised him.

Maintaining a modest distance, Atlas chose a seat that was conveniently facing opposite of her. Pulling out his journal, Atlas casually flipped through the pages until he reached blank ones. He feigned reading as if words were present, and he counted several seconds before addressing the mysterious woman.

β€œYou got me here. Now tell me what you know about my wife.” Atlas snarled quietly.
[/div] [/div][/div][div class=credit]code by [COLOR=#dedede]sox[/COLOR][/div]
 
[div class=box]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/C5YNskn/left-2.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"Quote here."

- Name
[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]
[div class=name]Delilah Burnns[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Doc"[/div]
[div class=title]Veterinarian/Unofficial Nurse[/div]​
[/div]

[div class=post]
Delilah grimaced as Astrid spoke about the kid on her table that day. Unfortunately gruesome murders such as the one her friend was speaking of happened all to often in the City. Granted, with the amount of mafia activity in and around the city made such violence difficult to avoid, but that didn't make it any less heartbreaking to hear about

"Damn. Poor kid's family must be devastated. We live in a city filled with monsters, don't we?" Delilah's voice wasa heavy and she looked down at the table for a moment. There was nothing either of them could say to change the situation and she was at a loss for words. "Do they have any leads as to who's responsible? It's insane to think that there are people in the world capable of doing things like that." She took a sip of her drink, pausing briefly in thought.

She followed her friend's gaze when she glanced to the back, quickly catching sight of copper hair clearly belonging to those of the O'Halloran bunch. Delilah knew of Astrid's disdain for the Irish family, so it made sense that her friend would be keeping an eye on them. "You sure you're good? I've got plenty of time to listen if you need to talk."


[/div][/div]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/9ccMyh5/right-2.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Gatted Goy

With: Astrid[/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]
 
[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]
It wasn’t really difficult to see that despite her words, Ada was anything but okay. The girl, who was usually perky and pretty fiery, was quite down and I couldn’t not see that. Any other day, she would just shake me off, cool me down with some nice remark of hers or just sent me straight to hell. My brain was reeling, working hard, all gears turning, what was I supposed to say? Dammit! Maybe just for once, make yourself useful, boyo!

"I’m fine, Sean…Just not having the best day is all."

That was a lie. Straight to me face. But should I pry? I hated to see members of my family down but honestly, I wasn’t the greatest to comfort them. I might have been a goof and all but this was way out of my league. But the subtle movement couldn’t escape me. I saw her put that ring away. That ring she never put down, the one which meant so much and was a view of the future for her.

I loosened the grip of her shoulders, that might have been a little too much but I really got fired up, seeing her like that. I tucked a loose fiery lock behind her ear and lifted her chin up to look her in her eyes. "You have to excuse me if I don't believe that for one second." I said and tried to soften the look in my eyes. "Wanna tell me, doll?"I asked and pulled her in the hug. I wouldn’t know but mama always said that hugs make things better. So, at least I tried, right? But in my mind, I was scolding meself hard for not being more useful.



[/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 Homestead

With: Ada CoachA CoachA [/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]
 
[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]
Th' town was still pouring, but there was somethin' soothing to the rain when it's pounding against an umbrella held above yer head instead of soakin' you to the bone. Eenie slipped their arm through mine and we trotted off in the direction of the Marina. There probably wouldn't be a picture-like sunset this day, but that didn't matter me none. Right now, I was feelin' comfortable, and mind ye that wasn't something that really happened often. We were in our territory, and on the way we chatted about things. I asked how 'eir pet projects were coming along and what they were thinkin' of soupin up next. I knew how their current jobs were goin', but it was comfortable hearin' em talk about it. I asked them what they thought woulda been a dream project fer 'em to work on, and then just a dream o' theirs in general. Personal? Yea, oi suppose so, bu' all things bein' equal, oi felt we were comfortable enough to talk about that stuff. So, I had an inkling they were gonna ask me how I always brought 'em scraps on the daily a little bit before they actually asked about it. I supposed it was about time to 'fess up.


"Hones'ly? Oi trade booze for it." I waited for their response and continued, "Oi'm serious! 'Afore me da... y'know, from the home country... 'afore his friends an' he taught me how to wire a pineapple, they taught me chemical formulas through distillin' liquor, and at some point I got some o' me old stuff for it together, distilled a few bottles an' brought em to Foreman Donal, the guy that runs the auto parts plant down that way-" I pointed down in the direction of the plant before continuin', "And... oi guess he liked it? So he gives me a box o' parts they made too much of or from orders that got cancelled'n such fer a small stack o' bottles, and he lets me go on me way."

As we finally caught sight o' the river proper past the dockside warehouses, I noticed some Joe getting roughhoused by one o' the O'Hallorann affiliates, some bald fellow with a thick beard and bear-sized fists made e'en bigger by some thick iron knuckles slipped over his fingers. Oi dunno what the poor sap's deal was, but I could tell from here it'd be wonder if he kept sight in his left eye after the beatin' he was getting, so it musta been somethin' pretty bad. Since we both were from the Homestead, the fella looked up at us, squinted in our direction, afore nodded his head at us an' went back down to 'is business. I grimaced, shuddered a wee bit, an' got a move on.

We wandered 'round the warehouse district a bit. The chemical an' oil smell this whole district gave off was familiar enough to the both of us. I pointed out the plant I got the spare scraps from, still chuggin' along for the day. Funny enough, as we finished our explorin' and were heading for the marina, the clouds started parting just as it got into the late hours o' the day. The rain was dissipating and you actually could make out some of the pinks an' yellows an' lavenders of the sky. Some of the shops, mainly the summertime carnival games an' rides were getting ready to shut down fer the day, but you could see boats out on the river, people millin' about, and a restaurant located smack on the boardwalk o' the Marina was open until the early morning. I grinned at Eenie and said, "Well, we're 'ere. What d'ye wanna do?"

[/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:Marina, Warehouse District

With: Ayama 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]
 
Webp.net-resizeimage.jpg

PETER MORGAN | ST. PETER | ANTONELLI LAWYER | AT HEAVEN ST.


The rain continues to race down from the heavens. It's pitter patter reverberates from the glass windows and into the empty law office. Peter just made a call to his boss, Lorenzo, seeking advice on what to do next.

"Just do your thing."

Enzo says through the wire.

A voice accompanied by static ran through the the telephone headset. Peter listened attentively to the instructions as best he could, he didn't want to disappoint him of all people. But Peter has been doing this for ages, he's not one to screw a simple job and that is to find out whoever this runner is and intercept all legal matters.

"Easy enough,"

Peter thought to himself but there's no room for complacency no matter how innocent things appear. Peter pondered on old wisdom passed down by his father: even a drizzle can flood a field.

Peter worked straight away. He set the flowers aside and took out some notes from beneath his desk. Drawing out the compartent, there was little in the desk but it was neatly arranged. Just the way he liked it. Some notebooks and journals, all organized Some were for his thoughts and some were for business. Official lawyer business, not family business. Peter isn't an amateur leaving around sensitive information.

He takes out a journal, black and leather bound. It contained names, addresses, telephone numbers of previous clients. Flipping through the pages, he arrives at the page dedicated to District Atty. Matthew Axford. People used to call him "The Axe" for his days as a crusading atty. but those days are behind. Now, he just wants to survive and Peter gurantees it for his cooperation

He takes his telephone and dials in the numbers. After a few rings, the call is picked up.

"District Atty.'s office, how may I help you."

A female voice picks up. No doubt his secretary.

"I need to talk to the counselor."

Peter replied with his signature cold and monotanous voice.

"Atty. Axford is not here right now, would you like to leave a message?"

"I know he's there. Tell him it's St. Peter."

He replied with a hint of impatience in his speech.

"Okay… just a moment."

The woman said and left the call hanging. After a few seconds of waiting, a man picked up.

"Hey, sorry about that. New secretary. I don't know if you should be calling through this line--"

The counselor spoke nervously before being cutoff by Peter.

"Why shouldn't I? I'm just calling for a simple favor, that's all. From one lawyer to another, that's all."

Peter tries to calm him. He too knows that there could be someone listening in.

"Okay, what is it?"

"Something just came up. Possible homicide. O'Halloran territory. I want you to keep your ears open and call me the moment you hear anything about it. If it involves any of my clients, you better call me at an instant."

Peter replied with a commanding and assertive voice. He always wants it his way.

"Uhh... y-yeah sure no problem. Hey, um, just one thing: you still got my back right? I don't have to be afraid of anything, right? I mean I've always done what you've asked."

The district atty. said, with a nervous demeanor and a pitiful chuckle at the end. But Peter, didn't reply immediately. He just let a few seconds of silence pass by, putting Matthew on edge, before finally replying in a playful and cold answer.

"Thank you so much for your professional help, district attorney. I'll see you around."

That should be enough to keep Matthew suspended in absolute worry. Peter likes to play around with people's emotions. Have them riled up and see their spirit succumb to pressure. Peter loves power; power over people and power over the times. It's all he craves. Matthew is one of those unfortunate souls who got caught in a web of dangerous affairs. But that was entirely his fault. His fault for slipping up and giving up the keys to his survival to the ruthless Antonelli attorney.

But he quickly came back to his senses. He grabbed his coat and jolted out the door.

"Stacey push all my appoints today for another time. I have somewhere to be."

He said to his secretary before heading out into the unforgiving downpour.​
 
Last edited:
[div class=box]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/rkSFFiO.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"I'm not always sarcastic. Sometimes I'm sleeping."

- Astrid
[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]
[div class=name]Astrid Haralson[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Sherlock"[/div]
[div class=title]Forensic pathologist[/div]​
[/div]

[div class=post]
Astrid rested her head in the palms of her head and sighed. Delilah wasn’t wrong there. The City was infused with crime and cases like these were nothing unusual and the young doc met with them more often than she would care. Corpses full of lead, bodies cut through so much that they were almost unrecognizable, main actors of the unfortunate events or simply some collateral damage. All of them ended up on the cold table of the morgue and Astrid was the one who was expected to tell everyone what happened. By this time, it was easy to not get personal but once in a while, a body reminded her of the past.

"You have no idea." she said quietly, answering Delilah’s question. "No leads just yet, I guess. Not that I would know anyway. All I did was cut him up. But let me tell you, based on how he looked like, it was either godzilla or a professional." she shrugged and waved at Avi to get her a refill. She was starting to get on a roll there.

All her assumptions were only based on what she knew. Dee has seen similar injuries many times. The minor ones. Of course, she was the one to patch her dad up after his fights. And she also suffered some of them herself when she used to train hard. Her dad made sure his daughter knew how to protect herself so he taught her and after some time, Astrid was a pretty decent boxer. She used to spar before, not so much now, never had the right partner. Visiting the gym once or twice a week kept her in form but there was no way she was in the same form as before. Mental note, you should start doing it again, doc.

A new glass landed on the table in front of her and she flashed the bartender a smile. "Thanks, old man." she smiled and took the glass closer. "You sure you’re good? I’ve got plenty of time if you need to talk." Astrid just smiled. Delilah was a true friend in need there. She lit another cigarette and enjoyed a few deep drags before she brought herself to answer. Fuck, girl, you are just a sappy mess today, get your shit together right now. Dad raised you better than that. she thought and straightened her back.

"Nah, it’s just…it that youngling reminded me of my dad a bit. The injuries and all. Plus seeing…them…" she moved her head towards where the meeting was happening. "Too many memories there." she said. Vague again. But what was she supposed to say? β€˜Yeah, I think they might have something to do with my dad’s death so I really want to just get drunk and forget them?’ No, that didn’t seem right. And it was still just something she thought, not confirmed information. Not that she would give them any benefit of the doubt. But Astrid would probably never find out what really happened. She might have as well just drop it.

"Okay, enough of the sap talk." Astrid smirked and took a sip from her fresh drink. "What you got there?" she asked and pointed to the cookbook which Delilah had been reading before Astrid tore her out of her alone time.



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

With: Delilah CoachA CoachA [/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]
 
1588384367570.png
Higashi Kurata| Omoikane | Higashi-Gumi Accountant
Location: Autumn Leaves


β€œYou got me here. Now tell me what you know about my wife.”

Skipping the measuring and straight to the cutting. As if such valuable pieces of leverage were that easy to get. She softly grasped the corner of the page, flipping it over to reveal another set of haikus. She laid a finger over one of them.

"Turn large ships slowly;
If you try turn them too fast,
They will tip over."


Even after the invited guest appeared, she kept glancing at the door, as if she half-expected a Higashi-Gumi spy to peek inside. After a few seconds of glancing and unnerving silence, she spoke. "Now, we both have a familiar motive in mind: revenge. Where you wish to kill the one who slew her, I," She flipped a page, peeking at the entrance for the umpteenth time. "wish for the destruction of the Higashi-Gumi." Kura looked up from her book. Those words had always bounced around in her head, taunting her with what she once thought would be an impossible feat. It felt... exhilarating... to say them... like she was finally taking control of her fate. "I never asked for this life; helping guilty murderers run free, keeping a damn crime syndicate alive... My skills could be used for so much more than just dirty work."

She flipped through another page, not even bothering to read its contents. To finally start a plan that's been developed for well over a year brought a resurgence of Kura's repressed feelings. "With your aid, I will show them what it means to be a master of my own fate; we will bring ruin to those who sought to wrong us." She let out a sigh, basking in a dream that's nowhere close to reality. "In the end, Higashi Kurata will say goodbye to the world. I'll live under a new name, use my skills for an honest, simple life... even if that means trampling over anyone I might've felt connected to."

As she breathed in, it only took the scent of tea and the hardcover haiku book to remind her of her current location. "My apologies... It seems I allowed my emotions to drive my words off tangent." It was never good to have such things cloud her mind, else incidents like this would occur. She mentally scolded herself, flipping through another page. "Simply put, you help me disappear, I help you track down Alexandria's killer, and we burn the Higashi-Gumi down to ashes. You get more details when they're relevant, I get a step closer to living the way I deserve, and you get a step towards him. Easy to follow, yes?"

Sicarius Sicarius
 
[div class=box]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/ZHKwq8Y/leftA.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"Ignorance kills. You should be dead already."

- Ada
[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]
[div class=name]Ada O'Halloran[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Riding Hood"[/div]
[div class=title]O'Halloran Spy Master[/div]​
[/div]

[div class=post]
Ada let herself relax into the hug, a sigh leaving her as she leaned slightly into the embrace. Truth be told she was running out of tears to cry and soon enough she would just want to go to sleep for as long as possible, but she couldn't just brush off Sean and worry him even more. He already hadn't believed her very obvious lie about being fine.

In the back of her mind she wondered what her Da and Declan would do when they found out someone so close had hurt her so deeply. She had no doubt that it wouldn't end well. She also wondered briefly about her Ma's whereabouts. Rowena O'Halloran was a force to be reckoned with, especially when her children involved.

"She's a bloody cheat, Sean." For the first time since finding out about her fiancΓ©e's affair, anger began to color Ada's words. Not often did she find herself getting extraordinarily angry, but when she did she was just as frightening as the rest of the O'Halloran bunch. "She's a cheater and a filthy liar. And to think, I was going to give her my last name." While Ada was most certainly still deeply hurt, she found herself content with the thought of her family retaliating on her behalf.

After all, no one fucks with the O'Hallorans and gets away with it.


[/div][/div]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/1Lzcy6z/rightA.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Homestead

With: Sean[/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]
 
[div class=box]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/Y2XN0Rs/left-2.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"Quote here."

- Name
[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]
[div class=name]Delilah Burnns[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Doc"[/div]
[div class=title]Veterinarian/Unofficial Nurse[/div]​
[/div]

[div class=post]
Delilah nodded as she listened to Astrid explained. Unfortunately the police not having any leads was unsurprising, there were plenty of professional in the city that could have killed that kid. All of which would undoubtedly know how to clean up after themselves enough to not leave a trail.

She paused when Astrid said the O'Hallorans brought up memories of her father, did her friend have history with them? For a split second Delilah couldn't help but wonder, but she let the train of thought fizzle off. If Astrid wanted her to know, she'd tell her, and it wasn't Delilah's place to theorize on such a painful subject. Opting to drop it, she leaned back a bit and took a sip of her drink before placing the glass back on the table.

Delilah's eyebrows raised at the question, having almost forgotten that she had been reading up on a few recipes before Astrid sat down at the table. She had been trying to decide if she would be trying one out for dinner that night, but there were a few that had caught her eye and she couldn't figure out which she wanted to go with.

"Oh! Just some decision making, there's a few that I think would be really good but I just can't seem to decide." She slid the cookbook across the table to Astrid, "I marked the ones that sounded good."


[/div][/div]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.ibb.co/1fw9vpY/right-2.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]Location: The Gatted Goy

With: Astrid[/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]
 
[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]
"She’s a bloody cheat, Sean. She’s a cheat and a filthy liar."

Those words resonated in my ears for what seemed to be an eternity. Okay, I wasn’t the most humble person in the world, I wasn’t the most honest and there were people who couldn’t even call me a good man. I might have been called many things. But if there was something I wasn’t and something I couldn’t stand, it was cheating. I have always believed that cheaters had this special place in hell where they would suffer eternally, hundred times more than the other sinners. Weird? Prolly yes. But I couldn’t help meself, I hated cheaters more than anything.

And now I was looking at a member of me family. There were no tears so I assumed those were long gone and the Homestead was not Ada’s first stop on the way home. A slight glassy gloss in her eyes told me that some gat was involved. And if that was not enough, when Ada leaned in that clumsy hug I gave her, I took a weak whiff of Jameson from her mouth.

It was enough to say my blood was boiling. Me family was everything to me. There was not one thing in the world that was more to me and I hated to see any of them disturbed. I could see Uncle C or Dec go wild if they saw Ada like this.

Okay, boyo, think, think hard, what do people usually do in situations like these??? I was trying to be helpful here but my goofball of a head was failing me. "Ada, my love, can I do something for you? Anything!" I asked in the end as I couldn’t come up with ONE normal way to comfort a person. Eejit me.



[/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 Homestead

With: Ada CoachA CoachA [/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]
 
[div class=box]
[div class=img style="margin-left: 10px; background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/rkSFFiO.jpg);"][div class=info][div class=text]"I'm not always sarcastic. Sometimes I'm sleeping."

- Astrid
[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=main style="margin-left: -15px;"][div class=ID]
[div class=name]Astrid Haralson[/div]
[div class=alias]a.k.a. "Sherlock"[/div]
[div class=title]Forensic pathologist[/div]​
[/div]

[div class=post]
Astrid’s formerly perfectly red painted thumb flicked over her zippo as she lit another cancer stick. Over the years, her voice became a bit huskier from all the cigs she smoke but for some reason, some men found it hot. Was it? Dee wouldn’t know. Honestly, she couldn’t even remember when was the last time she dated someone. Or even went on some date which went to hell anyway. That really hasn’t happen in what felt like centuries.

Nothing was gonna change tonight and the best was to forget about everything now. And Astrid also didn’t want to spoil Delilah’s mood so she rather changed the topic. Once she was at home, she could launch any spitfire she wanted and her loyal companions would agree and join her. Yeah, neighbors wouldn’t really be happy about three mutts barking in unison. As if Dee ever cared…

She took the cigarette in her left hand and reached for the book. She herself was a pretty decent cook and baker, had to learn since there was no mom, so she grew a bit curious about the book. "Oh! Just some decision making, there's a few that I think would be really good but I just can't seem to decide." Delilah told her and Astrid nodded. "I marked the ones that sounded good." she added and Dee went straight for those pages.

Silence fell on their table as Astrid went through a few pages and smoked, occasionally took a sip from her glass, all calmed down now. "This looks amazing." she said after a while, pointing to a pasta dish. "But you know I’m a sucker for Italian food so…obviously." she laughed and read through the recipe real quick. "That reminds me…we should do dinner at some point. We haven’t really hung out in ages. And Jerry, Rusty and Al would love to see you again as well." she grinned. "Let me know when you have time. I’ll cook and won’t take no for an answer." she winked at her friend and leaned back in her seat, taking a deep drag, satisfied smug smirk sitting on her face. Gatted Goy might not be the most luxurious place but it sure could make a person feel good. Despite all the circumstances.



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

With: Delilah CoachA CoachA [/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]
 
[class=container] --main: #C1C6CC; --accent: #12161F; position: relative; overflow: hidden; width: 18.5em; height: 25em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; background-color: var(--main); padding: 0.5em; box-shadow: 5px 5px 0px var(--accent); [/class] [class=pic] position: relative; width: 97%; height: 100%; color: #fff; background: url('https://pm1.narvii.com/6485/7e191330673dfcb5633c4ebf64a048ff7b009cb9_hq.jpg'); background-size: 135%; text-align: left; [/class] [class=name] position: relative; width: auto; height: 1.5em; font-size: 1.5em; color: var(--accent); text-transform: lowercase; text-align: left; padding-top: 14em; font-weight: 700; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px white; overflow: hidden; padding-left: 1.5em; letter-spacing: 5px; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 15em; background-color: var(--main); transition-duration: 0.3s; [/class] [class=text] position: relative; height: auto; color: var(--accent); overflow: visible; padding: 15px 5px 15px 5px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 12px; text-align: justify; [/class] [class=circlepic] width: 5em; height: 5em; border-radius: 30em; margin-left: 2em; background: url(https://pm1.narvii.com/6485/7e191330673dfcb5633c4ebf64a048ff7b009cb9_hq.jpg); background-size: 100%; margin-top: 1em; box-shadow: 3px 3px 0px var(--accent); transition-duration: 0.1s; [/class] [class name=circlepic state=hover] background: url(https://pm1.narvii.com/6485/7e191330673dfcb5633c4ebf64a048ff7b009cb9_hq.jpg); background-size: 150%; background-position: 30% 10%; transition-duration: 0.1s; [/class] [class=content] position: relative; overflow: auto; width: 20em; height: 25em; color: #fff; padding-right: 2em; [/class] [class=postinfo] font-size: 0.5em; color: var(--accent); text-align: center; margin-left: -3em; line-height: 2em; text-shadow: 0.75px 0.75px 0px white; letter-spacing: 0em; [/class] [class=credit] position: relative; overflow: hidden; width: 100%; height: 10px; text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 8px; color: #dedede; opacity: 0.25; [/class] [div class=container][div class=content] [div class=pic] [div class=name]
↓ Atlas
[div class=circlepic][/div]
[div class=postinfo]Location: The Autumn Leaves
mood: Suspecting
interactions: Kurata
tags: StaidFoal StaidFoal [/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=text]
"Simply put, you help me disappear, I help you track down Alexandria's killer, and we burn the Higashi-Gumi down to ashes. You get more details when they're relevant, I get a step closer to living the way I deserve, and you get a step towards him. Easy to follow, yes?"

The woman before him was wary; that was for certain. It wasn’t unwarranted however, taking the level of risk that she had. Although, despite her uneasiness, there was a strand of confidence laced within her words. It was as if she felt that she held him in the palm of her hand; that the emotional draw from her use of his wife’s untimely death would sway him away from his own principles and into a sweet, savory embrace full of revenge and utter destruction. It was not as though she was entirely wrong, however. Against all his better judgement, his deepest and darkest desires swirled up within him. It was like a hurricane of fire full of many elements, twisting and turning and forcing its way through him. There was a line that needed to be drawn, yet the marker that would define him stayed unmoving in his hand. Was there truly anything separating himself some someone like her? He wasn’t so sure anymore.

β€œYou’re a coward.” Atlas spat.

He ran his finger across the empty lines of one of the papers in his journal, feigning focus on reading a peculiar sentence. A few seconds passed before he pulled out a pen and began writing down a description of the woman before him.

Brown hair, blue eyes, of oriental descent.

β€œPeople have the power of choice. With every choice, there is a consequence. It is after all, the law of both nature and society.” Atlas began.

He continued to describe her in his journal, writing down her possible age as well as any key defining features.

β€œThere is no one stopping you from making the choices that are needed to be made; you are merely afraid of the consequences of these choices.”

He stopped writing and looked directly at her, not caring for any attention it might draw toward them.

β€œAnd you have chosen to cover your own ass by doing that shit so wouldn’t find yourself six feet under. Now you’re coming to me to save your ass from the consequences of running away like a coward… again.”

He averted his gaze to the entrance, watching as a couple walked in. They were casually laughing and smiling at each other, arm in arm and in total bliss. A wave of emotions passed over him as his mind replaced their faces with those of he and his wife. Something that was taken from him because of the choices he had made for himself. He was a man of principle, and he stood on it all the way until the consequences became too severe. It was because of his choices that he could no longer see her look at him the way she used to. He no longer had a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on when the days were hard. He made the right choice; many right choices, yet he was met with the scorching consequences of his actions. Why should someone like her be rewarded for her own bad decisions? Why should she have it off easy?

After a few moments of silence, Atlas digressed. β€œIt won’t be easy, trying to take someone like you off the map. I don’t even know how deeply involved you are… and the further you are the more difficult it will be. But, if I even agree to your terms, I am going to have to know everything about you; down to every last little detail. However, I will not help you if you aren’t able to at least show me some kind of proof that you know all of what had happened to my wife.” Atlas instructed.

β€œIf you can’t even provide that, then I could care less if you end up with twenty-seven bullet holes in your chest.”
[/div] [/div][/div][div class=credit]code by [COLOR=#dedede]sox[/COLOR][/div]
 

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