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

[Misty Gray]

Grace Armstrong
​

Grace had briefly noticed that Adam was looking good, as she often did notice. However, the shock of what she'd just seen was still weighing heavy on her and she couldn't enjoy their friend's presence as much as she'd been expecting to before that ghastly gift. "Ah, Adam. I'm sorry your dad couldn't make it," she told him. "I'm sure both of our dads would have been in their element talking business all evening," she remarked.

Grace watched as her mother took Quinn to one side to speak with him, presumably about what had just happened. The teenager heard Adam's question as he asked if something was wrong. It was clear he had sensed the tense atmosphere. It wasn't like any of them could even begin to hide it. She glanced back to her mother before folding her arms and taking a step closer to Adam. "We're just a little shocked right now," she understated. "My father - we - were sent a package. It was..." she began, struggling to speak as she thought of the hand just sitting there in the box. Starting to rot and smell. She wasn't sure why she felt Adam needed sparing the details, figuring it was perhaps so she didn't have to describe it out loud. "The Porters... those filthy criminals. They sent something awful and threatened my family. They don't like that my dad wants to stamp out their violence and intimidation, so they threatened us." Grace quickly wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan. "That family, they're monsters," she said. She had no idea Adam was dating one of the Porters. Why would she? "What if they hurt us?" she quietly asked.

Pyroclast (Adam)

James Porter and Jared Armstrong​

Watching Syd leave the house to go on his first job was resting heavy in the back of James' mind, even if it was a straightforward task. It was just that it was his son's first venture on behalf of the family business. Part of him wanted to change his mind and accompany them on the job, but then Lucy's voice played in his head telling him to drink and enjoy himself. Besides, Syd was out with trusted members of the gang who would take the task seriously.

James snapped his attention back to the drinking game around him. He'd already knocked back a a good few shots before Jackson got the game started, so he couldn't help but feel he was in an unfair position. Still, he wouldn't protest and appear like a party-pooper. Instead, he knocked back another shot, staying in the spirit of the game. He was about to accept another drink when Sinead stood in the doorway, beckoning him over so she didn't have to shout over the rowdy drinkers. "James, you've got a phonecall. It's that Jared Armstrong jerk. The one who wants to be Prime Minister," she snorted and rolled her eyes. Though he was sure she was joking about Jared going for Prime Minister, James couldn't help but laugh. Perhaps it was the alcohol taking effect. "If you're busy, I'll give him a piece of my mind and get rid of him." She was well aware Jared was to blame for her poisoning, not to mention other attacks on her family. She would loved to give him a ticking off and might even give him the bad f-word.

"Nah, Sinny. Leave it to me. I'll take the call in my office," he told his sister-in law. James then made his way towards his office, almost stumbling over Samson as the dog got in front of his tipsy walking. Once safely in the room, James sat at his desk and lifted the receiver. He didn't intend on it being a long conversation. "James Porter speaking," he said, a seemingly upbeat tone to his voice.

"Porter. It's Jared," the voice on the other end of the line replied. "I received the gift..."

"Gift? You must be confused. Why would I want to send you a gift?" James asked.

"Let me rephrase," Jared flatly began. "I got the message you sent for my family and me. Poor taste, if you ask me... It's time we arranged a meeting so we can find a way to come to some agreement. I inherited this feud that Ciara had left behind, but it's distracting from the needs of the working class and the changes I want to fight for in the name of the IWU. Your organisation and the IWU worked together at one time. That's still possible." Jared knew this conversation would be going down very differently on his part were he not determined to protect his own family.

James sat back in his chair. The fact Jared had wasted little time in contacting him gave some confirmation the threat had been taken seriously. He couldn't help but smirk upon hearing the man finally speak reason. Fuelled by the bitter thoughts of those Jared and the rest of the IWU had hurt, his smirk turned to an alcohol-fuelled snicker. "Careful, Armstrong. Coming to agreements and fighting together. It's almost sounds like you need my help for this election... Like you need me to give you a hand," he remarked.

"Cut the crap Porter," Jared hissed, picking up on the man's joke. "Do you want to discuss this like adults or shall we continue with all of this messy business, lining the streets with blood and fire?" Jared coldly asked.

If there was something to come out of this, it was that James had received confirmation that Jared did indeed care for his family. James couldn't fault the man for that, at least. He was sure the man could be reasonable too, but he wasn't about to let Jared think he was calling the shots by arranging the meeting. "Alright, Armstrong. We will arrange a meeting, but not right now. I'm in the middle of getting pissed and enjoying Christmas." James sat up straight. "I'll be in touch to confirm the date and venue."


**********************
Sinead, James and Jared are all available for interaction...

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

There was only one other female amongst the group, but she wasn't familiar with her. Based off of the interactions she had seen beforehand, she must have been Jackson's girlfriend or something. After what happened to him, she was glad he could find someone to make him happy. It suddenly hit her that even though she and Jackson had exchanged words over the past years, she didn't know much about him although she considered him a friend. Well, maybe after she took his car she would do better. Maybe she should do better about letting people in any way and not blocking them out so much. Could it be the alcohol she was drinking that was making her think all of this or what? Either way, she was focused on not losing at the moment.

After putting her glass down and filling it back to the rim, she took a pause as she noticed James approach and speak to Tommy. There were still words she wanted to have with him and it seemed every time she wanted to speak, something would prevent her from doing so. In this instance, it would have to be the fact he was having a child. She'd grill him on the employment of her brother soon enough. A few moments later Tommy would give her another look and she'd return one before knocking back her shot. Again she filled it to the rim and downed it before taking another pause. Her face felt tingly, a sign she was getting drunk. She brought her hands up to her cheeks and laughed to herself. The alcohol speaking, she leaned against Conor. "You know," she started as she addressed the group. "Conor and I played this game once and although I can't remember the outcome, I do remember him losing. So really, any of us stand a better chance at beating him." She teased. In the spirit of the holidays, she would forget any and everything they had been going through but it was only for the night. Tomorrow, she would go back to hating him.

Much of Leo's day was spent looking for the perfect gift for Delilah. After he had taken care of his poor sister, he left the house with his arm in a sling on his mission. The hospital released him under the condition he returned so they may monitor his health for at least the next month. He would agree to anything if it meant being let out of the sickening building. The only evidence of the incident remaining was his arm and the missing block of his memory. It wasn't his main concern at the moment; his girlfriend was.

He had been to over a dozen different stores and couldn't find not one thing he thought she would like. At the last minute, before he needed to be at the Christmas party, he walked into a jewelry store and his eye immediately caught sight of a necklace he thought would be perfect. The jeweler saw him eyeballing it and of course, tried to sell it to him for an outrageous price. But our boy Leonard was smarter than that and didn't let him try and swindle more money out of his pocket. Once Leo had the necklace in hand, he made his way to the Porter residence, already being late. The guards let him inside and he dusted off some snowflakes before stepping into the home. Immediately he was hit with the sound of laughter and glassed being slammed on the counter; kids running around and chatter. He sort of missed things like this when he was away and Uni and was glad to be a part of it. First, he wanted to seek out Ali and make sure she was okay. He found her leaning up against Conor, which made him raise a brow in confusion. Not even a whole two days ago was she saying how weird it was going to be around him. Yet, now here she was against him. All he could do was shake his head and go off to find Delilah.

He found her with Lucy, Mallory, and Emery and gave them all a warm smile. "Well, Merry Christmas Porter family. He told them, holding the bag with his slung arm. He then looked Delilah in her eyes. "Merry Christmas, Del." Leo wasn't going to give her her gift just yet, wanting to tease her a little.

Tommy, James, Conor ( Misty Gray ) Delilah ( ElectricDandellion ) Lucy, Blake ( Bellz ) Jackson ( Enzyme ) Mallory ( neverbackdown )
​

 

[Shireling]

Jack Brady
​

It was an evening that transported Jack like a neïve kid back to some sort of Dickensian fable of his boyhood, when he would play in the snow in his kneepants and come in to the warmth of his parents' home. He had thought of going to see them, his parents, it was that time of the year after all, but no...he couldn't bare it. The thought of such cozy domesticity repelled him. That's not how real people live, he would say.

So he confined himself to his third story apartment, huddled by the radiator beneath the window and swaddled in a wool blanket. The roofs of old Dublin were not as lively as they used to be, now that chimney sweepers were obsoleted by electric heat. There was a decent innovation, he thought, even as his breath stuck to the cold glass. The lights were low, the typewriter was exhausted and bleeding sheathes of paper dripped in ink. The phonograph was playing something dull and English that had been put on for background noise. The telephone sat nearby, although whether he got a call or not would be an open question. He had not been on good terms with Armstrong lately and, frankly, suspected the worst of him.

He turned his attention back outside. The snow was slackening a bit. He might grab his coat.

He had come in yesterday off the train, returning from a meeting of influential Irish communists in Belfast, where the nominally Marxist IRA conducted the minority of their business. Being subjected to a search and a passport check at the Irish border, a customs officer had brought him aside for extra scrutiny before waving him on. It made him feel...trapped, and nervous. Another Red Purge could be just around the corner...

(Just a short introductory post for the character. No need to involve him in anything unless someone wants to.)

 

[Pyroclast]

Adam Morgan

Adam watched Grace as she began to explain the situation. She spoke hesitantly, but Adam was patient with her. Jared had left to make a call and Faye had her attention on Quinn; despite their welcoming words, the family did not seem to be in the best position to host a Christmas get together. With everyone acting so on edge, Adam wondered if perhaps he ought to leave sooner than intended, to leave them to deal with the situation as a family. But he didn't want to leave just yet. He walked around the table slowly, towards where Grace was standing, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked so small and afraid to him.

"Something awful? Like what?" he asked, frowning slightly with concern. As she went on to describe the Porter family as "filthy criminals" and "monsters", Adam attempted to neutralise his expression so as not to give his own feelings away. "Now why would they hurt you, Grace?" he said, but there was a kind of emptiness to his tone. Seeing the tears in her eyes, he moved in to hold her. He remembered hearing from Mallory a while back that her sister had been badly hurt by the IWU. That had been before telling his father that he was dating a Porter, so he couldn't ask him how much he knew. Now, he had to wonder if the Armstrong family had been behind it, if they had some sort of blood feud with the Porter family. What if the Armstrongs were in danger? What if Mallory was in danger, too?

From the moment he found out Mallory's surname, he knew that he was placing himself in a difficult position, but he had no idea just how caught up in it he was. He had affiliations with both sides, and didn't want to see anyone get hurt. Of course, he couldn't admit this to Grace now, or anyone for that matter - not even Mallory. Yet he couldn't help but feel he ought to warn her somehow.
"Grace," Adam said quietly, still holding her against him. "Do you think your father will retaliate? The package you received...is it likely to incite something bigger?"

Interactions
Misty Gray Grace

 

[Shireling]

Jack Brady
​

Fifteen more minutes and Jack, dressed in his black overcoat and hat, trundled out into the snow and the street walking in the general direction of the Armstrong house. He carried under the crook of his arm a bound portfolio that contained a typewritten manifesto, a document which he wanted Jared to print and distribute to the masses of workmen that entrusted the IWU to look after their interests. Truly, it was a masterstroke of rhetoric. While he had always respected Gideon for his command of the spoken word, he knew himself to be the true master of the written within the IWU.

As he passed a newspaper stand, he covertly snatched a half-soggy paper from the rack and walked off with it, flipping it open when he was sufficiently out of view. He glossed over whatever he had missed in the days he had been in Belfast, apparently remarkably little. The shenanigans of many weeks ago with the commissioner had fortunately faded into the oblivion that was the short attention span of the press. There was the occasional article about it, but mostly the Irish press had dropped it down the memory hole. He was wont to do the same.

After a long wall, he emerged on the street where Mr. Armstrong lived, bitten by the cold and his coat half-wet from the snow that melted in proximity to his warmth. He clambered onto the slick steps with some difficulty and tried the doorbell with his gloved hand, waiting for a response with fingers tapping on his leather portfolio.

Misty Gray Bellz Enzyme (whoever else might be there)

 

[Bellz]

Finn Sullivan​

Finn chuckled as Conor scolded him over his defeated words, gripping the bar tightly as the room shifted slightly around him, the effects of the alcohol were beginning to take its toll. "Don't worry, I've still got it." He told Conor, though the tone of his voice didn't sound so confident. Finn looked around the room, trying to get a hold of himself so that he could continue on with the game. Everyone was chatting away, enjoying Christmas as they should, all cares and worries disappeared for the night. That was how he should be right now. Finn's eyes glance at those happiest around him and noted that this was the way he should be behaving tonight. "Another one?" He asked Conor as his glass was filled to the brim once more. He didn't even flinch this time as he drank, the liquid starting a fire in his chest and leaving him lightheaded. Finn let go of his woes for the time being and let himself enjoy the party. By the 5th shot in, Finn was basically gone. "I don't need her!" He said to Conor as he leaned against his cousins broad shoulder, his shot glass sloshing about as he gestured wildly. "I mean, there are plenty," He paused to knock back the shot in his hand before setting the glass down on the bar harshly, "There are plenty of fish in the sea right?" The man shrugged his shoulders and made a face that said he was indifferent of what Eleanor was doing to him.

"Women...women are something else." He continued on drunkenly, looking to the bar , he pointed at one of the waiters, "Fill this glass would you?" Pushing his shot glass towards the man, he turned to Conor. "I mean, its like they want you when they want you and then if they don't, BOOM. Nothing." Finn grabbed his now full shot glass and raised it up, "I think I'm going to make a small toast of my own." He slurred and smiled widely. Raising his glass a little higher, some of the alcohol sloshed over the sides, hitting him in the chest, "Ahhh shit!" He said and lowered the glass as he wiped at the wet stain with his free hand. "Well, I'll hold it here then." He held the glass level with his face now, "I want to make a toast to my new outlook on life." Finn's slurred voice held confidence in it as he continued to smile widely, "May things look up in the future. Starting with Eleanor and I breaking up!"
With: Conor Misty Gray
Mentions:

 

[Misty Gray]

Grace Armstrong
​

Grace opened her eyes wide when Adam asked her what the awful gift was. "It was... a hand. Like, an actual hand. Someone's hand," she quietly told him. "I don't know why they'd hurt me, because I've done nothing wrong. But the gift was addressed to all of us. Dad, Mum, Quinn and me. One of the Porters even spoke to me a couple of times," she said, thinking of Arlene. "I thought she was nice, but then I realised she was one of them. Dad told me to stay away from them and now I understand why!"

When Adam moved in to hold her, Grace thought nothing into it, despite having a crush on him. She simply took the gesture as it was intended - to comfort her in her time of upset. Grace leaned into Adam, though kept her arms folded as she gazed towards the floor. She glanced to Adam when he asked if she thought her father would retaliate. She thought the choice of word "retaliate" seemed out of place for her father, but she figured she knew what Adam meant. "Yes, I'm sure Dad will, in some manner. I mean, he's dead set on winning this election. He wants to help the people of this city who need someone in power to hear and act on their voices. He wants to help the working class to thrive, which I admire him for. But that's not all he wants to do. He wants to wipe out these criminal organisations, especially ones as dangerous as the Porters. As much as it worries me, I know he won't back down on this. That crude package they sent will only make him want to put a stop to crooks like the Porters even more."

Pyroclast (Adam)

Arlene Sullivan​

Arlene smirked when Carter expressed how he'd hate to meet the guy who could 'domesticate' her. Even joking about it was enough to make her cringe. It was the reason she'd struggled to settle down. Feeling trapped in a world where women were typically expected to become housewives and answer to their husbands. It was another reason she loved the Porters and Sullivans. Lucy was tough and didn't take any shit, and James didn't expect her to fall into the housewife role. Even sweet Sinead had managed to marry and have children without losing her identity and whilst maintaining her management of the Jazz Club. No, it was safe to say Arlene couldn't even entertain the idea of being anyone other than the person she was now. "Maybe I was robbed, but my life could have turned out worse. My life isn't perfect, but I wouldn't change it now."

It seemed Carter had also become aware of how close they were now standing to each other. She kept her eyes locked on his and there was a brief delay after he'd closed his eyes before she closed hers. It felt natural that their next move would be to kiss, but that never happened as the door was abruptly opened. Arlene's eyes shot open and she took a step back from Carter. "Fucking pricks," she muttered, irritated by their lack of warning before entering the apartment. She slowly nodded her head when Carter announced he had to go. "That had better be a Christmas party you boys are attending," she told Carter. "One far away from my family," she quickly added.

Arlene watched the men leave before she returned to the window. She couldn't help but think she would have been better off staying in New York, even if her step-brother was calling the shots there and being an insufferable arsehole about it all. At least she wouldn't be confined to some apartment, missing Christmas, and on the verge of betraying her family. She kind of felt guilty for being so cold towards Conor since finding out about his past with Alex Romano.

Enzyme (Carter)

 

[Misty Gray]

Conor Sullivan​

Conor looked to Aliana as she spoke to the group and mentioned their own participation in a drinking game with each other. He scoffed loudly as she proclaimed he had been the loser. "I think not, Ali! You don't remember the outcome because you were sooooo drunk. I remember it and therefore I won. I was only just starting and you were done in," he teased her in return. He knew she still had issues with him, but he wasn't going to put a downer on the evening by reacting any way other than playfully.

Conor's attention was drawn back to Finn, who appeared to be flagging too soon for his liking. Still, the guy got himself another drink so was clearly motivated to battle on. "Another one sounds good to me," he agreed, getting himself another shot of alcohol. Conor was about to drink the alcohol when Finn began to drunkenly spill what was on his mind. He grinned when his cousin leaned against him and started speaking of how there were plenty more fish in the sea. "Mate, the sea is full of fish. So many fucking fish swimming around, all single and looking..."

Conor humorously raised his eyebrows when Finn asked the waiter to fill his glass again. "Ah, women are very complex people, mate," he said, purposely looking to Aliana as he spoke. His attention was then pulled back to Finn as the man made a toast and spilled his drink. "Woah, that's a terrible waste of alcohol, Finnian Sullivan!" He patted his cousin on the shoulder. "Women are real bloody complicated. Us lads would never treat each other like that," he remarked. The smile was soon wiped off of his face when Finn toasted to breaking up with Eleanor. He eyed his cousin for a time, figuring out if he was being serious. Conor liked Eleanor and Finn together, but his cousin's concerns were clearly serious and it seemed his toast came from how he was really feeling, not just the alcohol talking. "I'm sure it hasn't come to that just yet..." he said, trying to reassure himself as well as Finn. "But whatever happens, I'm on your side, Finn. You have to do whatever will make you feel happy again. You don't deserve this kind of shite."

Bellz (Finn) Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)

 

[Fletchawk]

Alexander Quinn Armstrong
​

Not being in the frame of mind to debate Jared's words, Quinn could only nod slightly to show that he heard his father's explanation. He tried to partition the image of the singlar hand away in his mind and regain some semblance of himself but it's connection to the Porters brought the box that sat in his room and files it contained came to the forefront of his mind. He had been serious about his own investigation of the Porters but their present made him realize just how dire the situation truly was. Starting to wonder how he would proceed from here on, Quinn's train of thought was interrupted by the doorbell ringing and his body tensed instinctively again as he was still on edge and held his sister firmly as she started to pull away slightly as if to go answer the door. He knew they were expecting guests but with someone arriving so shortly after seeing such a threatening message, Quinn had a feeling of paranoia wash through him as he watched their father answer the door instead.

Quinn's body physically relaxed when he heard Jared jovial tone greet the visitor and sight of Adam walking through the entrance to the living room helped put his paranoid thoughts to rest and his arm that was protectively holding his sibling slackened. As the female members of the family greeted Adam, his eyes were on his father as he took the box to his study. He wanted to follow him and speak with him in private about the Porters but it was his mother, who returned from putting the bottle that Adam brought away, that grabbed his attention. Quinn found her concern comforting as she had always been there to provide assurance to Grace and himself when needed. He nodded to his mother's inquiry before clearing his throat and speaking to Adam briefly. "Merry Christmas, Adam. I apologize but if you'll excuse the two of us to for a few moments." He was glad that his voice had recovered from the shock only minutes ago.

Following his mother, the Armstrong matriarch, to the hall, Quinn felt his heart begin regain it's normal pace from being in her company. Once she stop and turned towards him, there was a short silence that hung between before he broke it. "Mother..." The word had the same volume as when he addressed his father while in shock but it didn't have the same weakness. "What are your thoughts about this? I know what just happened was horrible and I don't think we could of been prepared for it, still..." Quinn shook his head to show his disgust as the image resurfaced in his mind. "Father never wanted his work to follow him home but this wasn't result of business deals or paperwork. I know he is trying to do something good for the city and I'm proud of him but at what cost?" He had remembered meeting Gary a few months ago and face started to again at the thought of the man being possibly dead. "We both know father isn't one to back down and I don't want him too but he's not infallible. Something like this or worse might happen again." Quinn gritted his teeth, not an action that he normally did, but the thought of him just sitting and waiting for something to happen again frustrated him. The sound of the doorbell ringing again snapped the grim Armstrong son out of his sour thoughts and reminded him that it was Christmas and there were guests who have yet arrived. "My apologies, mother. We can deal with this later as we have a party to host." Quinn stepped aside to allow Faye to pass by him to open the door as he remodeled his face to something a little warmer but he still felt little thoughts of paranoia creep into his head.


Bellz [Faye] Pyroclast [Adam] Misty Gray [Jared + Grace]

 

[ElectricDandellion]

DELILAH PORTER

Delilah smirked at her brother. “Aw, no drinks for you tonight, Syd?” Leaning forwards, she squeezed his left cheek. “I’m sure me ‘n’ Mal will have enough drinks to sustain the whole city...or more,” she joked before giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder as he left, though she felt envious of him. The young woman wanted to be involved in the business, more so now given the situation with Leo (and she wanted her vengeance), but she knew that it was very unlikely. She also knew Mal wanted to participate and hold the family name too- something she’d personally do with immense pride and respect. Didn’t the two seem responsible enough for missions? Being able to understand why not, she still thought there were many reasons why they should be allowed at least minor missions. Delilah was intelligent as was her sister, and the inability to work for her father made her lips curl downwards slightly. Her hazel-green eyes followed her brother as he walked towards their father, jealousy twinging in her expression as she wished she could be in the same place he was. “Don’t be stupid and please be careful!” Delilah, though envious, was glad her brother was allowed a shot at least. He deserved it. After a few moments of thought, she turned to her mother with a smile.

Upon turning, she felt a hand at her face, flinching in surprise at first before gripping her mum’s hand gently. “Thank you, mam.” Giving her hand a soft squeeze comfortingly, she turned to look down at Emery. “I know how you mean- watching the cousins grow up and all.” Her head gestured subtly to her young cousin playing with her new kitten. “It’s...scary almost. Soon maybe Mal, Syd and I will be having kids of our own which seems such a crazy concept but...Syd seems so settled and in love with Skye, it just seems like really soon they’ll probably get married. And Mal, she’ll find someone soon-“ Delilah abruptly stopped herself, feeling as if she were blabbering. Her fingers tightened around her glass of punch as she lifted it to her lips. What on Earth had been put in it?!

Seeing her mother pat the seat, she was quick to take the seat, listening carefully at her words. “Almost like being at a pub,” she added jokingly, eyes trying to swim past the crowds of people. “The best gift today was seeing how happy you and Dad were.” She commented, quietly, but loud enough for her mother to hear. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to another gift,” Delilah joked with a chuckle, swishing the liquid around in her glass and staring at its tropical pink colour. “Yours and pa’s gift is in my room. If you guys don’t mind so much, I’ll probably bring it down later- when everyone’s gone?” Looking back at her mother with bright eyes, she shifted her position on the seat, crossing one leg over the other. Her mother’s sudden burst of anxiety became obvious, Delilah frowning lightly at her words but nodded in response. Should she have been worried? The thought certainly wasn’t a worry before. “I wasn’t- I didn’t think it would change anything. Well, apart from my sleep schedule,” Seeing a somewhat nervousness within her mother, she embraced her, careful not to knock her beverage, if she were holding one. “We know how much you love us mam. We all love you too and will be here for you every step of the way- even if you get moody,”

Feeling her mother pulling her close, she nodded at her words. “And you won’t. We all look out for one another and have eachother’s backs. I’m sure nothing too-“ Her eyes suddenly spotted someone walking towards the two with a sling on, and she couldn’t help the smile growing on her face. Immediately standing, she held her boyfriend by his shoulders, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. “It is now,” She teased, “Merry Christmas to you too, Leo.” With their closeness, something rustled against her leg, and she dropped her gaze immediately. Brows knitting, she glared at him, left brow cocking. “You have one good arm and you chose to hold the bag in the arm you’ve injured?” Almost instinctively, she reached towards the bag to free his pained arm from the pressure the bag could’ve caused. “Let me hold it- wait, do you want a drink? Can you even have a drink or are you still on painkillers?...one won’t hurt, will it?” Her cheeks were rosy with excitement at seeing her boyfriend, and she turned to her mother. “Tell him mam! He shouldn’t put pressure on his arm,” her hand entwined with his healthy one, keeping him close. She didn’t want to lose him or have him hurt again due to the business of her family. “Your present is in the room,” she whispered. Quite frankly she’d had trouble trying to find him something and wasn’t even sure her present was good or suited enough to Leo. “If you want it now I can get it? Or you can maybe come with me?”

Melanin-Gxdess (Leo) Bellz (Lucy)
​

 

[Misty Gray]

Sinead Callahan​

Sinead noticed Lucy, Delilah and Leo were in the quieter lounge, along with Emery, so she decided to join them in there. She loved that many in the house were getting drunk and having fun, but she knew it wouldn't be physically or emotionally healthy for her to start knocking back the alcohol too. As Lucy was speaking with Delilah, Sinead sat next to Emery's free side. The redhead looked to the kitten sitting on the child's lap and couldn't help but flash a warm smile at the adorable little animal. "Wow, he's a very cute little kitty, is he?" Sinead asked Emery, to which the child exaggeratedly nodded. "I hope you thanked your auntie for being so generous."

"Yes, Mummy. I told her she's my favourite auntie and I'm definitely going to look after Ozzy." The smile on Emery's face reflected the love and joy the child had for her new pet. Even for such a young child, she was willing to share her gift. "Mummy, you can hold him for a bit if you want to. He's going to live at our house so you can be Ozzy's friend too."

"You're so thoughtful, Emmy," Sinead told her. When she'd agreed Lucy could buy Emery a kitten, Sinead knew she'd likely end up being the one to feed it, but she'd secretly wanted a cat too, so she was never going to refuse. Reaching out, the redhead carefully lifted the tiny kitten in her own small hands then placed him on her lap. As she stroked Ozzy's back, she placed a kiss on Emery's cheek. "I love you, Emmy."

Sinead's attention was then drawn to Delilah and Leo, right as her niece suggested she and her boyfriend went to her room so she could give him his gift. Sinead hid the the humoured smile from her face and she reached her arm out, across Emery, so she could hold Lucy's hand. Giving it a gentle squeeze, she winked at her sister. "Hey, Luce. Next year, you might give birth and become a grandmother, at this rate. Huh?" she joked, glancing up to Delilah to gauge the teenager's reaction to her teasing. "You two are so sweet," she told her niece and Leo.

Bellz (Lucy) ElectricDandellion (Delilah) Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)

 

[Enzyme]

Clonmacnoise Job
(Alan Mckinnon)​

A Sacramento green 1953 Pontiac pulled up close to the massive gates. The car laid idle, as the headlights did the best they could to beam through the dense particles of snow, as the natural, orange sunlight diminished behind the tall trees. The vehicle was followed closely by a Navy blue Vanguard, which rested just behind the Pontiac. A hairy, heavyset man stepped out of the Pontiac, dressed for the occasion in a thick lopapeysa and a fitted wool beanie. After having the gate opened for him, he moved up the steep driveway to the porch. A few men had tagged along behind them, clearly invested in their conversation. After reaching the Porters' house, slightly winded from the walk, the man looked to those on the porch. "Right, you're the lot that's coming?" His frozen breath weighed heavily with the lingering smell of vodka. While the excessive drinking was evident, it was clear the man wasn't impaired in the slightest. The loud noises from the house emitted through the thin glass windows. The man groaned a string of incoherent murmurs as he produced a metal flask from the inside of his coat. After taking a hefty swig, he used his patchy sleeve to wipe the remaining liquid from his beard.

Resting his boot on the edge of the wooden porch, the man shoved the flask back into his jacket. "Name's Alan," the man introduced himself. He looked back to the two behind him, who seemed to be more present. "That's Butch, and that's Milton." He looked back to the group, assuming that Sinead's presence was merely coincidental and that James hadn't asked for her to tag along. "I hope most of you know where we're going, but by the off chance you don't," he motioned for one of the men behind him. Milton stepped closer, handing a rolled up paper to Alan. "Here's where we're headed." Alan opened the paper, revealing it was a map of Ireland, sectioning out most of the landmarks and focusing on Dublin and it's neighbors.

"The semi will be arriving shortly, and we'll be transportin' her to Clonmacnoise." He traced the faintly penned line with his finger, showing them their route. He rolled the paper back up tightly, handing it back to Milton. "Me and the boys have made this moonshine run a fair amount. The drives about three hours total, but the scenery is pretty enough to keep you from gettin' too bored." As he spoke, the large, loud semi rolled out in front of the gate. Alan raised his voice to overpower the diesel engine as he continued to explain. "Coppas up West like to give us a problem about the moonshine, but the mountains are steep enough that if they're giving you heartburn, just run 'em off the edge." Alan chuckled, exposing the silver fillings that covered three of his teeth. He led the group to the cars, Milton and Butch hopping into the semi. "Right, you two will take the Vanguard," he said, pointing to Tommy and Ryan. "I'll take Porter's kid wit' me. He wanted the lad to have a consistent job that wasn't so dangerous, so I'll show him the ropes so he can do it on his own." He slapped Syd on the back, before climbing into the driver's seat of the Pontiac.

Misty Gray (Tommy/Sinead) Pyroclast (Syd) Fletchawk (Ryan)

 

[Shireling]

Rudy Meyers

One Week Earlier​

The lake stretched out for miles from the bank where Rudolph was standing, sleeves rolled up, with the easel before him and a palette gripped limply in one hand. In the other, he twirled a wet paintbrush and prepared to lay down another stroke. It was early morning and the sun was rising up over the hills on the opposite bank of Lake Muntz. Far away to the south, the city lights of Berlin faded with the morning light and left Rudy completely disconnected from all save his canvas and his paint.

"Herr Meyers," a man's voice called from behind, it was a weaselly German bureaucrat, a paper-pushing member of the Stasi, who served as his chauffeur for the visit. It had been pleasant so far, with Rudolph's deep pockets smoothing over much of the trouble that the average West German would have in gaining access to the German Democratic Republic, but the terms of the agreement were clear and Manfred here would have to follow him about like a lost child. A man who, at that, could not understand the sentimental import of his visit to see the old lands of his great grandfather. He had even requested to cross the border into Poland to visit the site of the Battle of Tannenburg where several Meyers men fell, but was denied. Rudy was getting older, and the sentimental man within him was yearning for these markers of home and connection with a lineage that he had been divorced from all his life by the circumstances of history.

"Are you finished, Herr Meyers?" Manfred asked as he trudged up the hill from his car. He carried a paper cup in his gloved hand with steaming black coffee. Rudy looked and was tempted, but the painting was near complete.

"Almost," he said, putting the last few strokes on a bit of foliage on the far bank. He checked a pocketwatch and sighed contentedly. There was much to see.

"Tell me, Manfred," Rudy asked, "do you come out here often?"

"Never in my life, sir."

"Even before the War?"

Manfred hung his head. "Yes, even before the War. That was fifteen years ago, Herr Meyers. You talk about these things too much."

Rudy nodded, "Perhaps you're right." There was an uncomfortable silence. Manfred spoke again, "Why is it, Herr Meyers, that you spend so much money to come here and paint, to sing, dance in the beer halls and drink ale, and fraternize with the locals? Can you not do this at home?"

"Oh, I can, and I do, and it is a common practice on the other side of the Curtain, as you may know. But... this is the home of my fathers. The air of this place is baked into my bones. And yours too, Manfred."

Manfred shuffled uncomfortably. A good socialist would not admit to such romantic and bourgeois notions. Rudy finished the painting and took it from the easel, placing it in one hand while taking the easel over his shoulder. They walked back to Manfred's aged Volkswagen and placed these things in the boot before climbing back inside. The tires crunched noisily on the gravel, and Rudolph left Germany for the third time, this time with a painting and not with the dog-tags of his own slain countrymen.

Present Day​

The airport was as empty as it would ever be in Dublin. It was Christmas, and for one day the terminals seemed empty and somber. Five passengers disembarked from the short flight from Heathrow, two of them gentlemen in coats.

"Yes, Herr Meyers, that is interesting stuff you were saying about arabica coffee, I'm afraid I haven't availed myself of it as of late," said the one in a polished English accent. He wore a charcoal grey suit with a black hat, scarf, and gloves. He carried a carpet bag and a cane. Beside him, Rudolph walked carrying something rectangular covered in a thin sheet.

"Yes, Mr. Penshurst, it is quite good. It is a small world, you know, us belonging to the same opera club and then you getting pulled on to assist Mr. Porter. Quite a small world."

"Really, it was in large part Shannon's idea. She brought me up to Mr. Porter, I do believe."

"Well it's lucky we caught the same plane, because I'm headed over there at the moment. I'm going to give this painting to Mr. Porter. He's a good boss, he deserves something nice to hang on his office wall."

Their conversation continued as such as they walked out to Rudy's car. He had recently upgraded, ditching his Volkswagen with no small part of a feeling of loss, and exchanging it for a new model Jaguar with a black paint job. They drove in nominal silence most of the way to the Porter's compound, where they arrived with no small amount of fanfare from the exterior guards on Rudy's return from absence. Leaving his car outside, Rudy led himself and the new legal muscle in through the front door.
Misty Gray Bellz Enzyme Fletchawk (and whoever else might be privy)

​

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Aliana nearly spit out her drink when Conor insisted he had won. She had to use her finger to wipe the dripping alcohol from her mouth. "Excuse me?! I'll have you know I never ever get drunk. Especially not as drunk as you." Shaking her head, she filled her cup up again and emptied the contents. For a second, she had to hold onto the bar for fear of tipping over. The woman had a reputation to keep up with her alcohol tolerance and she couldn't risk it now by tipping over in front of all these people. As he made his comment towards her, she raised her eyebrow at him and shook his head. Though she was directing her words towards Finn, they were for Conor as well. "It's true, we are very complex. However, it takes the smartest of men to figure out our puzzles." She took a pause to drink from her cup again. "Which is why you shouldn't take advice from him!" It was a druken joke, her head nodding towards Conor. "I may not know you that well but trust me. Being single is fair better than being in a relationship anyway. You don't have to worry about getting broken." She said it with a smile, the cold hard truth she had come to realize. A lot of how she was feeling at the moment was beginning to come out, thanks to the alcohol she was drinking. But for a moment she had realized it and took another slight pause to get herself under some sort of control. When she did, she leaned cooly against the counter, trying to show no sign of being drunk. "Go out there and have fun, I say. Get drunk, sleep with someone you've never met before, and kick them out of your bed after."

Leo slightly missed getting chastised by Delilah and was oddly happy that he was. All he could was smile down at the girl and shrug his shoulders. "Well think about it. If I hadn't held the gift with the bad arm, you wouldn't be able to hold my good arm like you are now, now would you?" He was being a slight smart ass as she took the bag carrying her gift. Leo decided to take her up on her offer of a drink, not having taken any painkillers that day anyway. In all honesty, he didn't really need the sling nor the painkillers but everyone was convinced he did. When he got his drink he took a sip from it and immediately knew of it's contents. He wasn't planning on drinking, however, it seemed like he would be tonight. At the mention of going upstairs with her for his gift, he opened his mouth to reply, however, Sinead beat him to it.

Immediately he turned red at her comment of possibly getting Del pregnant and stammered over his words. With his hand up defensively, he started trying to defend himself. "Whoa! W-Wait a minute, Sinead. I- uh We've-," it was difficult for him to explain anything of their relationship without saying the wrong things. "We've never even-," he glanced at Delilah, partially blaming her for suggesting going upstairs in front of them. Surely they could've just slipped up there without anyone knowing and avoiding this whole thing but he couldn't really blame her. "You put me on the spot here. Del and I haven't done anything that should warrant worry. And if we ever do," he shot her a wink and immediately regret it, "Careful will be our middle names." He prayed and hoped he had said the right thing in the end. He was just grateful James wasn't around; that'd have been worse.

Conor, Sinead ( Misty Gray ) Delilah ( ElectricDandellion ) Finn ( Bellz )
​

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

At some point during the party it had begun to snow, and standing in the doorway Syd could feel the sharp contrast in temperature between the interior and exterior of the house. Although for the most part he knew he would not be outdoors during the task, he quickly went into the inner porch to grab his coat. When he returned to rejoin the others, he could spot three men walking up the driveway towards where he stood. Syd straightened up in anticipation.

Alan immediately made himself known as the leader of the outfit. He seemed to be a bit of a drinker, but Syd tried to put it past him - after all, this was a man he had been told to trust and obey. He grinned when the bearded man made a joke about killing any guards that may give them trouble. It was his kind of humour to joke about such things too, and Syd wasn't afraid of the police anyway.

"See you on the other side," he said cheerfully to Tommy and Ryan as Alan lead him away towards the Pontiac. Normally he would have enthused about the car - he could tell the model was a few years old but would have loved to examine its engine to see if it was still running a straight eight or equipped with the more upscale V8 - but he didn't want to waste anyone's time. Besides, he was too focused on the job and making a good impression on the man sitting beside him at the wheel. Instead, he admired it in silence and waited for Alan to pull away. "How long have you known my dad for, Alan?" he asked, stroking his side of the dashboard. "My name's Syd, by the way. You don't have to keep calling me Porter's kid."

Interactions
Enzyme Alan

 

[Fletchawk]

Ryan Donahue
​

Sinead's natural concern for Tommy, Syd, and his well being made Ryan feel a little warmer, especially the spot where her hand met his arm. He was almost unaware of himself watching her return to the inside of the house out the corner of his eye, a small smile on the edge of his mouth, until a whisper of longing floated to the top of his mind. "No." He told himself quietly as drained the rest of the liquor in his glass companion in an effort to purge the temptation from his mind. Fortunately, he wasn't alone with his thoughts for long before Syd popped part way through the door to alert him that it was nearly time and soon followed by Mr. Dempsey. "Yeah, let me go get some stuff from the garage real quick." Sliding his empty glass against the nearest support beam of the railing to reclaim he came back, Ryan headed to garage to prepare for that night's endeavor.

Having prepped most of it beforehand, it only took Ryan a few minutes to unpack his handgun and it's shoulder holster, a canvas coat he'd brought with him from Chicago, and a sheathed Ka-Bar knife that he tucked into the tool wrap that he was bringing. Ryan normally didn't bring a tool wrap with him on jobs around the city but on long distance jaunts like these, if something happened mechanically, not having having the tools made his skillset practically useless. Hearing the front gate of the Porter Estate creak from the cold as it opened, Ryan put on the gloves that were tucked into his coat pocket as he headed back to the front porch, tool wrap tucked firmly between his arm and torso.

As Ryan made his way back to the porch, he eyed the two cars that had driven part way up the drive and the three men that had occupied them. He arrived a few strides ahead of them and made a quick introduction of his own following theirs. "Name's Ryan and I appreciate the briefing. I'm an import from Chicago, so I don't know much about the roads outside of Dublin." He had momentarily noticed the smell of vodka but only because the scent varied from the whiskey still on his own breath but did take note of Allen's demeanor. Chalking it up to not wanting to work on Christmas, Ryan made way towards the Vanguard along with Tommy. As they approached, he turned towards his now driving partner with a slight grin on his face. "Well Mr. Dempsey, you want to take the helm, or shall I? It might be my usual schtick but I'm no native."

Enzyme [Allen + Butch + Milton] Pyroclast [Syd] Misty Gray [Tommy]

 

[Misty Gray]

Thomas Dempsey​

Tommy was glad when the three other men showed up ready to get the job started. He was looking forward to the nice drive but mostly looking forward to getting back to the Porters for a few large drinks. He looked to the paper as Milton pointed out their route. It all seemed pretty familiar and straightforward to Tommy, having lived in Ireland all of his life and done a fair bit of driving in his time. He glanced to the gates as the truck carrying the moonshine showed up. It all seemed pretty run of the mill to him. James had thrown him in at the deep end over the last few weeks; dragging out of his spot guarding the gates and Porter home to actually going out on more risky jobs. This one would be a breeze in comparison. Regardless, his loaded gun was safely tucked in its holster beneath his jacket.

Tommy nodded and smiled to Syd. "See you soon, mate. Take care," he told the young Porter. Tommy then headed over to the Vanguard, along with Ryan. Before they got into the vehicle, Ryan asked who was to drive. Knowing how much the other man loved cars, Tommy held his arm out to gesture for Ryan to get into the driver's side. "You can have the honour of driving and I will have the pleasure of enjoying the scenery," he remarked. "But I do know the route, so I can easily direct you if needed," he was quick to add.

Tommy climbed into the passenger seat and adjusted his holster so the handgun wasn't digging into him. "Let's hope these guys drive fast. I still have a Christmas to start enjoying." he noted. He then sat back and waited for Ryan to set off driving.

Fletchawk (Ryan)
Pyroclast (Syd) Enzyme (Alan + Butch + Milton )

 

[Misty Gray]

Conor Sullivan​

Conor let out a chuckle as Aliana protested that she never got drunk. He quite missed their heated disagreements and silly bickering. In the past, those interactions had been followed up by the two getting into bed together. Their words to each other these days were less likely to end in such a way and he suspected there would plenty of real annoyance behind Aliana's words now. Whilst he figured he deserved some of it, he'd also apologised and wasn't going to do so again.

Conor raised an amused eyebrow as the woman had to hold onto the bar, but he chose not to make a big deal about it. He wasn't going to go petty point scoring, even if things were frosty between them. He folded his arms as she confirmed women were complex creatures, and then let himself slowly nod his head in agreement. He pulled an offended expression as she told Finn not to take his advice. She then went on to tell his cousin it was better being single and one night stands were the way forward. Sure, Conor himself had indulged in such behaviour in the past, but he didn't feel that suited Finn. He believed his cousin deserved better than that - more happiness and stability. "So you follow up telling Finn not to take my advice with giving him terrible advice of your own? You really are complex, Ali," he said, grinning to her. His amused smile dropped as he thought more about her suggestion. "Have you told Tommy he's better off single too? Poor lad's smitten with you and you're gonna break the boy's heart," he remarked. Conor would be lying if he said he hadn't felt put out and perhaps a little jealous when Tommy told him of his feelings for Aliana, but considering he'd gone back to Alex he knew he had no right to do anything but support his friend. He knew he couldn't have the best of both worlds and he'd had to put Michelle first.


Bellz (Finn) Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)

 

[ElectricDandellion]

DELILAH PORTER

Although giving him a piece of her mind, it was only her pure worry for her boyfriend that lead her to be so picky. After all, he could’ve hurt himself more balancing objects on his poorly limbs rather than the other arm that was perfectly capable of holding the weight of the gift without intensifying his injuries. She couldn’t help it, especially since she was technically to blame for his injuries in the first place...she shook her head of the thought almost immediately. “Yeah well-wait, gift?” Delilah questioned, eyebrows closing in on one another though her lips twisted upwards in awe. “You know you didn’t have to, Leo? Your gift to me was that you didn’t leave me in that hospital. That’ll be plent years worth of gifts to me from you,” giving his hand a gentle squeeze, she leaned forwards to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. It was lovely of him to get her a gift and it truly warmed her heart, but she was anxious that he’d spend his hard earned money on something for her rather than himself. Yes, it was Christmas, but she couldn’t help feel selfish. When he accepted her offer of a drink, she backed off for a few moments, winding in and out of crowds of people, knowing now why her mother had been opposed to the idea before, and finally got the summery-looking alcohol to Leo within a matter of minutes. “Here. Hold your breath when you drink it, it’s pretty sharp,” commented the Porter daughter, smirking as he took his first sip. Clinking her cup against his, she mumbled a quick “Cheers!” Before almost spluttering our her drink.

“Auntie Sinny!!” Delilah exclaimed, cheeks burning with embarrassment. She didn’t even know what to say. Her intentions had been pure but alas, the obvious thoughts that would zoom into their heads were endless. And they hadn’t even- oh God, Leo’s words were worsening the redding on her face. She couldn’t believe the hole he was digging for them both- it felt big enough to tunnel them through to the other side of the Earth. “No-uh...I...” Her eyes wavered about the room, looking for anything as a distraction. Anything she could say to cool her cheeks and the situation...possibly Leo’s nervous blabbering too. “We haven’t even had sex,” Blurted out the frustrated teenager suddenly, closing her eyes immediately after. It was all just playful teasing but she couldn’t help her anxiety at even the suggestion of her and Leo- She shook her head. When he winked at her she couldn’t help but smile at his silliness and gently nudge his shoulder. “You can stop now...if you want,” she whispered teasingly to him, knowing the two probably just worsened the situation. “Mam, Sinny...no babies.” The teen vigorously shook her head. “No grandbabies....yet,anyway,”

“I guess we shouldn’t go upstairs then?..” Delilah questioned with a raised brow to her aunt and mother.​

 

[Fletchawk]

Ryan Donahue
​

Ryan chuckled a bit at the man's response, knowing full well there wouldn't be much to look at now since the last bit of light was quickly fading from the sky. "If you say so, Mr. Dempsey. Just don't nod off on me and start dreaming about that colored dame of yours back in the house," Ryan teased as he moved to the driver's side of the Vanguard and put his tool wrap behind the seat.
After realigning and settling into the driver's seat, Ryan tried to start up some conversation to get and know the man a little better as they had only really met in passing, "So, Mr. Dempsey. How long have you been working for the family?"
Although he still wasn't as familiar with all the European made cars as he'd like, Ryan could tell that the Vanguard was a slightly older model as he could feel that the steering wheel was lightly worn underneath his hands. The key that been left in the ignition turned rather smoothly but he could still feel a little stiffness in the internal mechanism that had yet to be worn away from use and the what sounded like a 4-cylinder engine chugged to life easily.
Misty Gray [Tommy]

 

[Misty Gray]

Thomas Dempsey​

Tommy couldn't help but laugh at Ryan's comment about him dreaming about Aliana. "If you say so, mate," he replied. Despite playing it down in his words, he made no attempt to hide from his face the fact the lady indeed was often on his mind. "Besides, surely there's someone who fills your thoughts from time to time. Am I right?" he asked. He was curious, as he didn't know much about Ryan and wondered if there was someone in the man's life.

Tommy paused when Ryan asked how long he'd been working for the family, having to think back on the correct answer. "Well, I've been around the family for about 6 years as they helped us out and my old man did some jobs for them in return. When my dad was killed by the pigs, four years ago, I started working for the Porters. Shannon got James to keep me around and I was grateful for that as I'd packed in school and any hope of getting a real job the day I lost my mum," he admitted. Despite the sad and angry feelings mentioning his mother evoked, he still couldn't help but smile as he thought of how much Shannon had done for him and his father back then.

"How about you, Ryan?" he asked, briefly looking to the driver of the Vanguard. "You were working over in Chiacgo before here, right? How long have you been working with the family?" he returned the question.

Fletchawk (Ryan)

 

[Pyroclast]

Adam Morgan

A look of disgust crossed Adam's face when Grace informed him of the gift they had received. It sounded far too barbaric and gruesome for Dublin, or at least the Dublin he knew. "A hand," he repeated under his breath, thinking of the box that had been laying on the table when he had walked into the room. It was hard to imagine such a thing, but then perhaps that was for the best. When Grace mentioned her having met one of the Porters, his mind went straight to Mallory - though there was of course no way he could have asked her what the woman had looked like without giving her more questions to ask.

Adam let his arms drop from around her and took a small step back, just far enough that he could look her in the eyes. "This hand," he said, his face souring at the thought once again. "Have you thought about who it belonged to? That seems like far too personal a message even for organised criminals to send to a high profile politician like your father. If I were you I'd worry about what he has got himself involved in - ask him if he knows whose hand it is."
The word 'criminals' had slipped out before he remembered that he was talking about his girlfriend. Mallory didn't seem like a violent or twisted person, the kind of girl who would be okay with that level of brutality. The thought of her coming from such a family made him wonder if he had to be afraid of meeting her parents - more so than a boyfriend normally would - and then if perhaps it would be wise to get out of the relationship now before he too got roped into this sick game. But that worry was born from a brief wave of panic and, after recognising this, he managed to shake it off. Jared seemed like such a gentleman, a true figurehead of class, amenity and kindness; it was as hard to imagine the Armstrongs caught up in this feud as it was the blonde-haired beauty that Adam was so sweet on. If he had done something to warrant the Porters' message and managed to fool his family in the process, it wouldn't be impossible that Adam had been fooled too.

As Grace spoke about Jared's aims, he couldn't help but focus on her words, "wipe out" and "put a stop to". To her, perhaps it meant cracking down on violent crime by eradicating corruption among the Gardaí - but by now, Adam had let his mind drift to the possibility of her father being involved in something criminal himself, and began to fear that Mal and her family were now in danger. "I don't understand," he muttered, bringing a hand down his face. "I don't understand where it ends, I mean. If your father responds to this threat, how do you know the Porters won't see his response as a threat and send another? Where does the cycle end?"

Interactions
Misty Gray Grace

 

[Fletchawk]

Ryan Donahue
​

In most instances, Ryan was quick with his wit but he found himself faltering when asked if he had a woman occupy his thoughts. The face of a smiling red headed woman immediately tried to invade his thoughts at the opening. Trying to deny the obvious with a pained smile, he forced himself to think instead of his other love, the 1957 Corvette that he left back in Chicago.

"Yeah, I got girl back in Chicago. Her name's Elise and she is easy on the eyes I tell you. Something fierce too, once you get her motor going..." He trailed off as he replayed the rumble that his beloved vehicle emitted when it accelerated and his expression grew more pleasant from the memory. It didn't take long for Ryan to collect himself though. "...Sorry. I lost myself there for a bit. But yeah, I was thinking of going back and bringing her back one of these days, so you may yet met her for yourself."

Even though he tried to bury the invasive thought from before, it still haunted the back of his mind but Ryan paid it as little heed as possible as he listened to Tommy narrate part of his life. The man's losses resonated with Ryan on a personal level, "My condolences for your parents, Mr. Dempsey."

Having his question turned back on him, he needed a minute to recollect. "Hmmm..." Ryan knew that his father had worked for the Sullivans as long as he could remember and time had had blurred his memories a bit, so he had a little bit of trouble pinpointing exactly when he started working for the family.

"My Pops was one of Mr. Sullivan's lieutenants, Shannon's husband, God rest his soul. So, I've been around the Sullivans for as long as I can remember but I think I was fifteen years old when I started hanging around the garage and I was sixteen when I started working on the cars with James. I guess that would make it about twelve or thirteen years but I kind of went AWOL for about half of that after my father was killed by the Romano Family."

Ryan's face was deadpan as he briefly reminisced about that time. Remembering the events from so long ago with clarity was troublesome unless something triggered them, which was rare but it still happened. Still, the thoughts produced a dull ache in his chest.

"I came back almost 5 years ago but James and the Sullivans had already moved here by then. So I worked as an enforcer for the boss there until recently. He got a call and due to my past with them, I was selected to come over and help out." Ryan's eyes didn't leave the the truck they were following as his words led his thoughts to drift a little about his current role in the organization.

James had been utilizing Ryan's mechanical and driving abilities more than his skill for violence that he'd honed over the past decade and while he enjoyed the work, Ryan had been hardwired for battle and he couldn't help but crave for it a little. Even though he had been keeping busy, he couldn't help but feel a little dissatisfied lately because of the lack of action. The distance that had grown over the decade between him and the family was slowly shrinking but it and the faint feeling that James was holding him back still led to some passing thoughts of that he might not be using Ryan to his full potential.

Rolling his shoulders and exhaling sharply to clear his head, Ryan returned to the here and now. Which included job he was on and the man that he was in the car with. Not wanting his thoughts to wander so much, he changed the subject to more shallow subject. "Since this is my first winter here, I gotta ask. How often does it snow like this here? It's a bit colder in Chicago this time of year, so it normally has a bit more than this."

He glanced out the window at the couple inches of snow on the ground. Without a doubt, it would be gone by the next evening but it still glistened as it reflected any residual light that touched it.

Misty Gray [Tommy]

 

[Enzyme]

Clonmacnoise Job
(Alan Mckinnon)​

Alan smiled as Syd introduced himself. He hadn't dealt with many teenagers since he'd been one, but Alan assumed Syd would've sat there and kept to himself, doing whatever he could to avoid interaction. Alan had prepared himself to deal with a spoiled kid who was bitter at his dad for putting him to work on Christmas. From the look on Syd's face, he could see how eager he was to be involved. Holding a half smile, Alan looked back to the road. "Hah," he grumbled, recounting through his memories as if he were flipping through a cabinet of manila envelopes. "Me and your pop go way back." Alan readjusted his relaxed grip on the steering wheel. "After your dad got settled down in Dublin, he had me and the boys running supplies down to Waterford. Guns, stoges, kegs, you name it." He looked to Syd, smiling through his thick beard. He was curious about how much Syd knew about his father's history. Like a child trying on his old man's boots, Syd seemed enthusiastic enough about James' line of work. "He came to me from Chicago, a suitcase with his clothes in one hand." He slowly shook his head with a chuckle, recounting the memory. "He looked around these parts and didn't even skip a beat. 'This'll all be mine,' he told me." He eye-line scanned to the road, his smile fading slightly. "Boy, he wasn't kiddin'."

*******​

As the convoy moved further into the mountains, the falling snow turned into a thick, endless wall of frost. Reducing visibility after a few feet, the vehicles stayed nose to tail for the duration of the long trail. The concrete sidewalks and brick buildings turned to iced-over mud and oak trees. The ground pulled up from the earth and elevated the convoy deeper into the obscured sky. Without even so much as a thin metal sheet to act as a railing between the vehicles and certain death, the chains on the semi-trucks tires did the best it could from stopping the massive truck from careening off the edge. The moonshine in the back rattled against the wooden shelves from every rock the tires rolled over. Alan's eyes scanned the map, using familiar landmarks he'd become accustomed to, to stay on track. While he'd taken the trail dozens of times, the near-blizzard was enough to throw off his barrings.

Alan's eyes returned to the road just in time, his foot slamming against the brakes. The car slid across the ice briefly, before stopping directly in front of the collapsed scots pine. "What in god's name?" He trailed off, looking out his driver's seat window. Butch approached his door, slapping his hand against its frame. Seeing him, Alan rolled down the window and allowed the bitter cold to infiltrate their warm space. "That's gonna' be a problem," Butch stated the obvious, his breath freezing a few inches from his face. The tree had been cut from the base, collapsing over the entire length of the road. Alan groaned, pulling back out the map. "We can take try to take Eldon's ridge," Butch offered, pointing to the path on the map. "Nah, the truck will never make it. The road's barely wide enough for this bloody car." Alan looked to the dip in the road to their right, before looking back to the map. "That looks like a crossroad," Alan spoke out loud, tracing the small path with his finger. "It dips below this road and reconnects at the corner." He thought for a second, before slapping the map closed. "Yeah, that's what we'll do. Go tell the boys."

Butch walked past the semi, heading towards the Vanguard. After reaching their car, he leaned his gloved hand against the roof of the vehicle. Butch waited for Ryan to roll down his window before speaking. "A fuckin' scots fell right on the path," He looked out to the road, pointing in the direction of the tree. "We're gonna' have to take a detour. Just stay close behind the semi like you've been doin' - it shouldn't be a problem." After patting the roof of the car, he walked back to the semi. Using the handle on the side, he pulled himself through the open door. It only took a few seconds before the wheels started moving again, dipping down into the alternate path.

Pyroclast (Syd) Misty Gray (Tommy) Fletchawk (Ryan)

 

[Fletchawk]

Ryan Donahue
​

The two men continued chit-chatting for a while, slowly getting to know each other as the advertised sights had mostly disappeared into the moonless night. However, as they followed the semi up the mountainside, words between them became few and their focus was increasing drawn to the road and vehicles ahead of them that the growing flurry seemed keen on affecting their view of.

"Jesus. Look at this shit! I know that guy said that he and his men had done this route plenty of times in the past but you'd think they would've had a different route for when it was snowing," Ryan grumbled mostly to himself.

Ryan had experience driving in this kind of weather from occasional storm that hit Chicago but that always made him very aware of how quickly things could go wrong. As the convoy progressed further up the mountain road, his unease could only grow as he watched the truck struggle at times from behind. So he wasn't surprised they eventually all came to a full stop.

Rolling down his window when one of the men from the truck came to explain what happened and the change of the route, he could feel the extreme difference in temperature and snowflakes buffeted his exposed face. Try as he might, Ryan could not see much anything in the direction that Butch pointed towards. At this point, he could barely see past the truck in front of them.

Butch started making his way back to his vehicle before Ryan could ask him, so he directed the question to his colleague as he sealed the interior from the snowfall outside. "What the hell's a 'Scots'?" He assumed that something was blocking the road but Ryan was unfamiliar with the term.

The question was answered as the convoy turned off the original path one by one and the Vanguards headlights fell upon the prone tree. It laid across the road in a perpendicular fashion that neatly bisected the road, creating a greyish brown barrier that would be impossible to remove by their own power. The outline of the cut base could barely be seen at the edge of headlight beams but it would nag at Ryan even after turning into the dip after the other vehicles.

Ryan tried leaving the image of the fallen tree behind them and return his focus to driving but there was something familiar about it that seemed to pull at the threads in his head. It didn't take long for him to realize that the tree reminded him of a few past experiences in Korea and while he initially denied the feeling of deja vu, he started mulling the possibility over at the back of his mind.

A few moments of this and the hairs on the back of Ryan's neck were beginning to stand on end as a sense of dread started to propagate from his gut. His gloved hands tightening on the steering wheel, Ryan decided to get Tommy's opinion on the matter before he thought of acting on his growing suspicions. "I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this. How about you, Mr. Dempsey?"


Misty Gray [Tommy]