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

[Pyroclast]

Adam Morgan

Adam narrowed his eyes slightly as Quinn spoke of his reaction to the event, his gaze held firmly by his interest in the subject. "I see that," Adam nodded. "I can see you're not the type to live in the shadow of your father. But are you sure you want to involve yourself in such business? It seems a horrible mess to get caught up in. You'd need to be very prepared, I think...in case that kind of thing happens again." His mind wandered to Mallory - it had been difficult for him to bring up with her what had happened to the Armstrongs. Having given it some independent thought, Adam had concluded that Mallory either knew about her father's violent actions and didn't see them as a concern significant enough to raise with him, or she truly had no idea and Adam would have to warn her of the potential danger that may be sent her way by his own friends. No matter what angle he addressed the situation from, he couldn't imagine it ending well for the two of them. He was soon pulled from his thoughts, however, when the waitress came by to serve the men their drinks.

Adam held the glass loosely, swirling the contents before taking a sip. Here he was with a friend he had not had a proper conversation with in weeks and he was wasting the time thinking about the communication issues between himself and his girlfriend. The sudden change of subject came as a relief to Adam. "Of course," he smiled. A puzzled expression formed on his face as he tried to comprehend the look Quinn was giving him. "Captivated? Quinn, now I'm sure you are just making fun of her...She needed some company, is all. I couldn't very well have left her in that state, could I?" He took another sip of his wine and looked away. A slight nervous feeling had come over him as he wondered whether he would get away with confessing his relationship with a Porter girl. Quinn was a friend of his, but from the way he spoke about the Porters, Adam didn't imagine that he would be very understanding. However, there was a chance that he had misinterpreted the young man's words and decided it was safer to play on that possibility instead. After a short moment passed, Adam looked back up to him and smiled politely. "I'll make more of an effort to see her, if it would make her happy. Tell her she can call me whenever she likes."

Interactions
Fletchawk Quinn

 

[Shireling]

Aldous Penshurst and Jack Brady
​

Aldous listened keenly to the back and forth, only stopping now and again to sip his gin. He thought Mr. Porter was arguing strongly, and he knew that Mr. Armstrong was likely more concerned about gaining a grip on the mayoral seat than losing his grip on the IWU. Carter made an impassioned, yet in his opinion quite foolish outburst, and stood to use the restroom. Evan stood to do the same shortly afterwards, and Tommy followed him. Aldous was still having trouble keeping the names straight. Quietly, he puffed on his cigar as the younger man to Armstrong's right began to speak.

"Frankly, Mr. Porter," Jack began, "it seems like you are asking us to give away our capabilities and getting nothing in return. The IWU is not a problem that you think can be solved with force of arms, otherwise you wouldn't be at this meeting. You would be gunning us down."

He lit a cigarette and took a drag. "Look, you can paint me a bullshit picture of how you're just the friendly neighborhood crime family, never meaning anyone any harm, but we both know that you're blowin' smoke up our arses. You limit your collateral damage, you will say, well fuck I didn't like Ciara but at least every bomb and bullet she ever bought was for the working man and not her own pocketbook."

He leaned forward. "You know what you are, Porter? You're the entire capitalist system in synecdoche. You are the embodiment of, 'The strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.' Your greed is your motivation, Porter, maybe a little bit of your spawn and a little bit of your concubine, but in the end its all this," he tossed an Irish bank note on the table for dramatic effect and watched as the whole table's eyes naturally gravitated towards it. "Family my arse, the Porters are a business, and an honest one at that. Breaking necks, and cashing checks right? Don't give me any bullshit about how you're saving the community, looking out for the little guy, and all that. Whatever you throw at charities and the poor is to salve your own guilty conscience. And if you really loved your wife and kids, you wouldn't be a murderer and a thief and teach your kids to be murderers and thieves."

He breathed deep. "So lets approach this from a place of honesty. You're a crook for your own sake, own it. He's a crook for the people's sake, mostly," he said, hooking his thumb at Jared, "because you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet. Now I respect your claim, Mr. Porter, and it's none of the IWU's business as to what you and your gang of thugs do with your spare time. But when you fucked with us, you entered into a new realm. If you insist on being in that realm, then you can be eggs in the aforementioned omelet. I don't say this to threaten you, merely to convey the truth of the matter. Everyone wants a truce, but we are keeping our weapons. If you deny us this, you are denying the proletariat the tools of their liberation. That makes you the enemy."

Jack sat back, fully expecting either Jared or James to unload on him with both barrels.

Misty Gray Enzyme

Rudy Meyers
​

Rudy had been nervous about bringing the kid along. He didn't like the fact that Syd was in the family business and not in school or an apprenticeship. But he wasn't about to tell Mr. Porter how to raise kids when he didn't have any himself. Rudy reached and turned the dial down on the radio as they passed the pub. Should be an easy job, he had done a million just like it. Even so, he pulled the Colt revolver out of his shoulder rig, popped the cylinder open and checked each chamber before clapping the firearm back together and spinning it to make sure the action was working. He stowed it, and hopped he wouldn't need it.

When they entered the pub, Rudy mostly stood by as the others ushered the patrons out. He was playing more the strong and silent motif, and approached behind Conor to intimidate the store owner. He was only slightly shorter than Conor, but he was a broader man with heavy shoulders. Although it was cold, he wore just a coffee-coloured double-breasted suit. It fit just well enough that his muscular frame was apparent under the clothing. He wore an expression that said I dare you to fuck with me.

Misty Gray Pyroclast

 

[mpower]

Kennedy Sullivan
​

Kennedy decided to leave the topic of Peter, for now. The arrest report could possibly deliver him some better detail than his aunt and probably would stop increasing the chance of his aunt feeling uncomfortable because of all those spicy questions. As soon as Shannon took a sip out of her coffee, Ken reflected and took one out of his tea, standing up as he pushed his other hand into the pocket of his pants, taking a glance around in the room for any possible art as he slowly walked around, though he still gave Shannon his whole attention, noticeable on his shifting gaze . Silent he remained as well to her answer on his rather obsolete condolence, having found his peace with the topic, he really did not wish to go into the extremes in his first family talk, after all he wanted to be happy here and not have family members get grudges on him for being too noisy or impolite.

His eyes wandered in a circle, either they were pinned on Shannon, on his teacup to see how much is left for it, or on the walls and the floor, his feet slowly raising and touching the floor again, it was like he did not wish to disturb the usual nature of the room while walking through it. "I'd love to be an uncle for Finnian's children. But hey, I think I am already one for a dozen other families around here, noticing how everyone here got settled with children already, I might have to buy a few presents as their returned uncle. Hope I won't disappoint you folks in saying that I have not found a proper woman for engagement yet, America's been more liberal in those terms. Neither am I much of a Catholic man anymore, mind everyone who still is, I just could not get myself motivated enough over the years." A small muffled chuckle escaped his lips as he lead the tea up to his lips again, emptying it slowly.

"Sorry if I say that I will be an addition to those whining kids here as well, aunt Shannon" He smirked as he continues: "And for the golfing, hell, I myself never played it before, so we'd be a fun party. If not golfing, there're surely more enjoyable things than that. A pub even, although I couldn't say that I am a big drinker", his thoughts shifted over to his other addiction for a brief second, his inner self shoved it away quickly though, if he did not think of it he could suppress it, even though it remained in a nagging way in the back of his head all the time. Kennedy's eyes looked around for a fitting board or shelf to lay down his cup again.

Misty Gray (Shannon)

 

[Misty Gray]

James Porter and Jared Armstrong​

When Carter spoke up, James' eyes rested on the man and his face remained neutral as he listened to him speak. Truth be told, he'd never been convinced the man would say anything in the direction of compromise or in favour of holding fire. James had crossed paths with men before who had nothing to lose and a lack of any kind of remorse, so Carter's words were merely confirmation from the man himself. James never claimed to have an objective or socially accepted set of morals, but he still held some level of humanity and conscience. Carter came across as a man unable to reason with. Whilst he took in the man's words and knew better than to ignore them, he still saw any attempt to present a counter argument as futile.

After Carter got up to use the restroom, Evan spoke up. James knew little of the man, having until now only seen him around the factory and perceived him to be one of the IWU heavies. He had to wonder if the man's presence at the meeting, especially him speaking up, meant Evan was more than just another bodyguard. The man in question also got up and took the opportunity to head to the men's room, an action that didn't simply wash over James' suspicious head. Regardless, his attention was briefly drawn to Tommy and Jackson getting up to leave before his focus was fully directed to the Jack.

Jack's words were blunt and scathing, but not dissimilar from words he'd heard from the past - mostly from the man's fellow colleagues in the IWU. The Porters' presence in Dublin had for many years been peaceful, with force and violence minimal. As nice as that was, it was always going to be temporary and with the politicians, smaller gangs and the Russians butting in, heavier tactics were the only option to maintain control. The IWU's growing presence, mostly at Ciara's hands, had only served to make things messier. James would neither apologise nor deny Jack's words, for he knew the IWU were firmly cemented in their fight and beliefs. Any reasoning was wasting time over arguments he'd had many times with Ciara and her men in the past. Besides which, the Porters hadn't been the ones to request the evening's meeting. "Well, I can't say I didn't ask for that," he calmly told Jack, sending a nod the man's way. He had asked for his thoughts and he could at least respect the man for speaking up. "But let's just go back a moment so I can remind you who fucked with who first. I helped the IWU and I gave Ciara what she requested from me, to enable those protests to go ahead and to keep the cops distracted so they couldn't get in the way to silence you all. In fact, the only time I refused her was when I refused to supply her with the explosives she asked for. I was not willing to put bombs in the hands of someone as mentally unstable as she is. She spat out her dummy and she fucked with me. Juvenile as it might seem, I will not take the blame for this escalation."

James cleared his throat and sat back comfortably in his seat as he shared his vision across both Jared and Jack. "I'm not a good man, we've established that. However, a guilty one or not, I still have a conscience and one that will not allow me to willing let you lot run riot in the city with explosives. Too many people - innocent people - would be caught up in that."

James shook his head. "I know why he's here," he said, pointing to Jared. "I'm just not sure why you're here, nor those two," he said to Jack, before pointing to Carter's and Evan's empty places. It was more a rhetorical question and one actually aimed at Jared. James fixed his eyes on the IWU boss. "Mr. Armstrong, it seems to me like your men don't share your sentiment and I can't help but feel I'm wasting what could have been a more productive evening." He once again allowed his vision to be shared on both of the IWU men. "This meeting was called because you all made this personal and Jared realised my willingness to not start gunning you lot down may have come to an end. I'm starting to lose count of how many people I care about have been hurt recently and perhaps I do need to start breaking a few eggs in your very own kitchen. The only thing that was holding me back was the threats against those I care about, but they have been hurt regardless of me taking a step back." James looked directly to Jared. "Armstrong can forget being elected as mayor with the evidence I could release to the public. There won't be a voice of power to sing along to the sounds of your bombs. The politicians aren't going to buckle to a bunch of radical extremists, not without one of your own in a seat. That is why he wanted this meeting," James said, pointing to Jared. "I don't doubt he cares about his family, but I also believe he would do anything to take the spot in that mayor's office."

Enzyme Shireling

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

Having been unable to hide his trauma of the attack from his mother as well as he had intended, Syd had spent most of the day over at the Callahan's looking after Skye so as to avoid any attempts of Lucy's to stop him from going out. Tonight would only be Syd's second job, but he was already determined to approach it differently. During the two weeks that had passed since the fatal ambush on Christmas day, he had used training as his main coping mechanism, having adopted a Beretta M1951 as his weapon of choice. It rested comfortably in his holster as they drove to the pub, Syd all the while watching cautiously out of the window. Perhaps he had spent too long indoors since the attack, but he couldn't help but be suspicious of anyone who might look their way. The Archer's Pub soon rolled into view and Syd looked to Conor as he laid out his last instructions. "Dad won't have any reason to kick your teeth in, Conor," he assured him, grinning at his joke that Rudy was the only real adult of the three of them. In fact, he did know something of the role his uncle had played in the business even before Syd joined the family, and despite his game of pretending to be a child, he was probably the man Syd felt safest around after his own father. Having him there on the job with him was the confidence boost he needed. Still, he stayed close to the two men as they approached the pub, for some reason feeling like the whole street had their eyes on them.

Once inside, Syd gave the room a scan, taking in as many details as he could. He hung by the door so as to prevent anyone else from entering, and when Conor handed him a bunch of notes he distributed them randomly to the customers as they passed by him, mumbling some flat apologies. Then, after kicking open the doors of the bathroom stalls to make sure nobody had been left behind, Syd gave Rudy the all clear so the man could bolt the door. He stood tall while Conor spoke and eyed the landlord from a slight distance with a stony expression on his face and his hands clasped together in front of him.

Interactions
Misty Gray Conor
Shireling Rudy
Enzyme

 

[Bellz]

Lucy Porter​

Lucy tilted her head in concern as Aliana ran a hand through her hair and across her face.Lucy raised an eyebrow at Aliana's words, "What do you mean?" She questioned further, to which the woman provided answers. The story she told her was honestly surprising, given the history Conor and Aliana had together. She went silent for a moment before beckoning Lucy to sit beside her. The blonde sat beside Aliana and she continued her story. Nodding her head in understanding, Lucy let the conversation go silent for a moment as she thought about what to say. "Ali...I first want you to know that this isn't just your fault. My brother is just as responsible for this." She cringed inwardly at her words, not liking the way they came out. "What I mean is...Conor, knows what he's doing. The risks that are involved." He was a grown man after all, and he knew that his actions would hurt Tommy.

"Its okay to not know what you want, but you have to be honest with both of them." In her own relationship, trust and honesty was one of the most important things to both James and herself. "Honesty is going to save your friendships, even if that means you choose one relationship over another, or none at all. If you are honest, they will respect you more in the end for it...and may understand sooner rather than later." Lucy leaned back in her seat and sighed softly, placing a hand lightly on her stomach. "You are one of the strongest women I know Ali, this is just another hurdle that life is throwing at you and you are going to make it." Her tone sounded confident and sure. Lucy could only hope that her brother and Tommy would be strong enough to handle such a situation. Aliana was right that people would get hurt, no matter what she decided. The friendships that Tommy, Conor and Aliana could be jeopardized. Lucy didn't want to influence any decisions, but she really adored her brother and Ali being together. She thought they were a perfect match for one another. But Alex was back in his life now along with Michelle, and that changed things...even though now things seemed more tense on that end.

"How did you feel after you kissed him? After you both admitted how you felt? Was it like weight was being lifted off your shoulders?"
with: Aliana Melanin-Gxdess (Finn and Peter will be up tomorrow )

 

[Misty Gray]

Shannon Sullivan
​

Shannon faintly smiled when Kennedy expressed his enthusiasm for being an uncle to Finn's future children. She glanced to the man as he wandered the room of the conservatory, a place Shannon often retreated to for some piece and quiet; perhaps to read or paint. The kids new if she was in the conservatory, then they had to zip their mouths shut if they wished to be in there too. "Oh yes, this place if full of kids and teens already. I'm sure they'd be grateful for any gifts you would get them. But don't worry too much as they've just had Christmas and I'd hate for them to become expectant of tangible gifts rather than appreciating how fortunate they already are." The last thing Shannon wanted was needy children around the house, especially given the struggles their elders, such as Peter, Arlene and James, had endured through their own childhoods.

Shannon raised a surprised eyebrow when her nephew admitted he was still very much single. "Not disappointed, love. Are you looking for someone, though? Or too attached to the life of an unshackled bachelor?" she joked. One thing that she had never been before meeting Emmet was sentimental about family or even bothered about having one herself. That was something that rubbed off on her from her late husband and now she couldn't imagine not having a big family. She enjoyed watching it continue to grow. As the man touched on his lack of interest in Catholicism, she leaned forward and downed the rest of her coffee. She placed the empty mug back on the table before clearing her throat. "No need to explain yourself to me on that one, Kennedy. My parents shoved the Bible down my throat when I was growing up. I ditched religion the day my family ditched me," she remarked, referring to her parents disowning her over her choice to marry a gangster. "Truth be told, I probably turned my back on it even sooner than that." She'd never forced religion on her kids and other relatives, letting them choose that path for themselves.

"Well, if you do start whining, I'll put you on a timeout alongside Emmy," she remarked as she set about lighting up another cigarette. Shannon then let out an exaggerated cough at his words about not being a big drinker. "Are you sure you're a Sullivan and not some impostor?" she teased. "Conor and Jackson will call that blasphemy!"


mpower (Kennedy)

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

To her own surprise, Aliana was holding her breath awaiting for some sort of negative response from Lucy. When she didn't get one, she was relieved. Instead, Lucy had been gratefully understanding to her situation. Her guilty conscience was beginning to subside as Lucy spoke, explaining she wasn't the only party involved. She knew this but hearing someone else say it made her feel a ton better. At the mention of being honest with both men, she basically cringed. How well was that going to go? She had already been honest with Conor that night informing him she didn't know what to do or what she wanted. With Conor, it was different since he was technically in the same boat as she. Having to decide between his family or her was tougher than her own decision. Tommy, on the other hand, didn't have any type of decision to make involving choosing someone. To her, it meant he couldn't possibly understand the position she was in so he'd take the news a lot harder. "Being honest is going to be very difficult. I mean, Conor understands. He's gotta basically choose between his family over me and Lucy.." She shook her head at the thought of being a homewrecker. "Lucy that makes me feel so terrible." Ali hadn't really known about what happened to Alex as she was focusing on her own family. Guaranteed if she did know she would probably die of guilt.

"Tommy on the other hand. I know he's smitten and if I tell him, he'll be so crushed. He doesn't deserve to be hurt this way." As Lucy got comfortable on the couch, Ali decided she would as well. Except, her definition of being comfortable was using someone else as a pillow. Her head was on Lucy's lap as she looked up at the ceiling. "Especially when the only bad thing he's done is not take me on a date." She joked, trying to lighten it up a bit. She raised her wrist to show her the bracelet he'd gotten her for Christmas. "He even bought me this." Lucy's encouraging words made her realize how vulnerable she had been lately and made a mental note to check that later. In the meantime, she grabbed Lucy's free hand and made her stroke her hair before resuming. "It did, actually. The biggest weight, like I had been carrying it around for the longest time and it's annoying. If it felt that way, that means that our relationship was more than just sex, doesn't it?" [/imagefloat]​

Bellz (Lucy)

 

[mpower]

Kennedy Sullivan​

Kennedy let his gaze escape the interior of the conservatory and inspect the outer perimeter, his eyes wandered from the bushes and grass until to the distanced fence and tried to find a weak spot on the way to it, if he would end up living here or being around often enough to be included in the family, he could surely impress in finding something, but James apparently got a thing for safety, he realised as he could not find a single blemish. His thin lines of what could be called two lips formed up into a small smirk, a wave of sadness rushed through his body as he felt rather sorry for his nephews and nieces just as his aunt talked about them, having them live up in such a hostile and illegal environment. That is probably the burden to all this wealth around.

After a small walk in a circle, he remained frozen in front of the window, his eyes lost themselves in the distance of nature as his eyes remained as focussed as always. "I sure will find a middle way to be that nice but content uncle...speaking of which, how old are the kids of Lucy and James? Fifteen? Eighteen? Did they ever hear of me during the years? I hope I will not be greeted by a rather...uncomfortable approach, as I may appear like a foreigner to them." His hands shoved down into his pockets, the teacup which had been in his right was deposited on a shelf in front of him.
He eyed Shannon as she asked him about his relationship status, he almost felt bad talking with his aunt about these things, but directly realised that they were both adults and he wasn't a teenager anymore. He showed off a sly smirk as he answered her: "Well, I can't complain right now, got no chains on me and all...but I don't think I know good places to meet a potential future Mrs Sullivan. Hope you folks can show me around enough to get into the right circles.", he winked and remained silent then as she went on about religion, he could simply nod to her past about religion, not having experienced it personally but his closest friends had encountered the same problems in their families. "I appreciate your honesty", his mouth angles returned back into their normal state, his face turning back into its colder state.

"Well, I can't say I haven't been on that path", he chuckled softly as he continued, "We'll see if I can hold myself up if I go with 'em on tour to the pubs. Ah...by the way... who's Jackson? Kennedy walked back to his chair as he lowered himself down, both arms rested onto it and his body seemed slightly less tensed than minutes ago by now.

Misty Gray (Shannon)

 

[Enzyme]

Jackson McCarthy​

Jackson watched on as Carter left the table, his eyes moving to Jared to see if the man agreed. While Jackson had dealt with unhinged men before, more often than not, accompanied by the butt of a handgun, something was unsettling by the way Carter spoke with such confidence. As if backed by a religious being, he seemed to ride upon the glory of a crusade, so sure that the universe itself promised absolute success. It did its part in sending a reactive chill down Jackson's spine. Not so much in a fearful sense, but more in a, "smashing that asshole's teeth in would be doing this town a great justice." His attention was broken when Tommy addressed him. Jackson was relieved when Tommy invited him along to collect their drinks. Anything to stand up and air out the situation.

He followed behind Tommy to the bar, observing the wealthy patrons as they passed. He couldn't help but wonder why the IWU would agree to meet as such a high-brow establishment, considering their understated distaste for the upper-class. Nevertheless, his attention was drawn off the matter as he was satisfied with his well-deserved pint. He looked to Tommy as he spoke, nodding his head as he took a sip from the tall glass. "Fuckin' do I," he grumbled, pulling the beer away from his mouth. His eyes fell back on the table, the representatives still engulfed in conversation. "What is this gonna' accomplish?" he asked Tommy, leaning closer to the man so his voice wouldn't be trampled by the loud atmosphere. "James thinks he can reason with these nuttas'. Look at what we're bloody wearin'." He tapped the metal plate under his buttoned-up shirt. He shook his head once more, before taking another sip of the pint.

After making their way back to the meeting, Jackson rested the pint on the table and sat back down in his seat. As he relaxed back in his chair, he was able to hear the end of Jack's statement. "Look, we're not asking for the world here. I'll be honest, mate, I completely agree with the message. I came from the shitter me'self, along with the blokes at this table. Instead of pissin' and moanin' about it, I took what was rightfully mine. If you lot wanna' go around and shoot up a Gardai station, massacre a bunch of wealthy prick's purebreds, power-fuckin'-to-ya'." He scooted the cold pint away from him with his fingers, leaving a pristine water circle on the sheet. "But when you start shoving dynamite under roads and blowing up cafes in our territory, there's just no way we can excuse that. How are we gonna' let a bunch of random blue collars scare off our investments and turn our profitable city into a bloody war-zone?"

Misty Gray Shireling

 

[Misty Gray]

Thomas Dempsey, James Porter and Jared Armstrong​

Tommy shrugged his shoulders and let out a sigh when Jackson questioned what the meeting was even going to accomplish. "Perhaps James wanted to try asking nicely," Tommy suggested, but the crooked smirk on his face showed he was only half serious about it. "All I know is, these guys don't come across as the reasonable type. I don't condone violence for the sake of violence, but I reckon it's time to treat them how they treat others. Ambush their lot and give them some bullets of our own. That's the only language they speak," he sadly spoke under his breath. Tommy felt the IWU deserved no more chances, not after the actions on Christmas Day which left Alan and others dead, Ryan and himself injured, as well as Syd's life being being put at risk.

He returned to the table with Jackson, carrying three glasses in his hands. He handed Aldous another of the same drink, then passed James a whiskey and placed his own drink on the table in front of him. As Jackson fired words back at Jack, Tommy took a sip of his brandy before noticing James was offering him another cigarette. Tommy gladly accepted and wasted no time in lighting up, sending his boss a smile and a grateful nod. Every time he smoked now, he thought of Aliana berating him for doing so, which was probably why he was getting as many smokes in now before he next saw her!

Tommy's mind soon focused back on Jackson as he listened to his friend continue to speak up and with words he couldn't disagree with. The IWU were wasting their time attacking the Porters, but if they should be targeting anyone, it should be the cops, politicians and those born into wealth. Tommy knew how hard the Sullivans and Porters had fought to get where they were. They weren't born into any kind of wealth. He didn't for a second believe the IWU members should hold any moral high ground in the slightest on this one. All they were achieving was destruction and death.

Enzyme (Jackson) Shireling (Aldous)

Jared heard everyone's words loud and clear. Not only was it frustrating to know James was right about the purpose of the meeting, but he was also disappointed to hear his own men couldn't keep their warmongering mouths shut for just one evening. Jared was about to speak up when a waiter began collecting empty glasses and adding extra cutlery around the table, depending on the meals that had been ordered. The food had been ordered in advance, with a man each from the IWU and Porter Gang standing guard in the kitchen to oversee the preparation of the food. After the former mayor's poisoning, James didn't trust food around Jared and his men. Jared wasn't even sure they'd all stick around long enough to receive their meals, being that the meeting was already proving to be fruitless. When the waiter finally scurried away from the awkwardness of the table, Jared sat forward again. "Do you not think I have information on you and your friends which I could hand over to the authorities, Mr. Porter?" he calmly asked.

"I know you don't have anything that's worth shit, Armstrong. Nothing that can stick. Nothing that you honestly believe is strong enough to risk the backlash from blackmailing me." James shook his head. He knew Jared was slimy and believed if he had anything at all strong enough to harm the Porters, he would have used it already. "Face it, Armstrong. You want power; to be the mayor. You chose the wrong cause to prop you up. It's a shame, really, because I could have done a lot with a man with a fitting political face and strong, fancy voice like yours. Thankfully, I have faith in the well-recovering Commissioner and he will wipe the floor with you, if you don't step down from the election campaign before then."

 

[Misty Gray]

Shannon Sullivan
​

"Syd and Delilah are both eighteen, and Mallory is 17... going on 27," Shannon remarked. The number of times she'd caught that girl up to no good and trying to grow up too fast. "They've lived with us for over ten years now." A crooked smile formed on her lips at Kennedy's next question. "Well, I'm not sure if they've been told of you or not. It's certainly possible Finnian has mentioned you in conversation before. I wouldn't worry about feeling out of place with them - there's always different people walking through these doors, whether family, friends and business associates. One or two unwelcome faces, if I'm being honest... But they're all confident kids, so I wouldn't worry," she reassured him.

Shannon thought for a moment when he mentioned not knowing any good places to meet women. "Oh, I'm sure we can help direct you to the right places. Though I'd ask for ideas from the the likes of Lucy or Aliana if you want to find someone with a bit of class. Or there's Sinead's jazz club - that's known to attract some good, sweet young ladies. On the flip side, if you get roped into a night out with some of the guys, all your face will be getting up close and personal with is some sticky pub floor after far too many drinks," she remarked. It wasn't entirely true, she knew the guys liked to have more sophisticated and dressy night out too, but it was much more fun to poke fun at the messier nights out.

"Jackson's as good as family. When most of us were all still back in Chicago, he was was helping out with business back here. He's continued to do a lot for this family, and James regards him very highly." She took another drag of her cigarette and casually blew the smoke out, away from Kennedy. "I'm sure you'll find him easy to get along with."


mpower (Kennedy)

 

[Shireling]

Jack Brady
​

Jack sat back and smoked his cigarette and merely smiled sardonically as James's confederates piled on, explaining why they had a position of strength. He seized on a particularly telling part of Jackson's last statement: How are we gonna' let a bunch of random blue collars scare off our investments and turn our profitable city into a bloody war-zone? He tensed up, wanting to fling a fist in the man's direction, instead he just turned to Jared, obviously displeased with what he had said, and instantly regained his humor. He could only imagine how thoroughly he was making Jared's blood boil, because he had figured out what this meeting was actually for. It was not a parlay for peace, it was a committee meeting to get Jared elected. Mr. Porter was not having it either, and Jack watched in ecstatic glee that was hard to contain (although he did maintain his composure) as Mr. Porter pumped shell after shell of flak into the lead zeppelin that was Jared's election chances.

The food came, Jack threw a jovial smile to the waiter and asked for more brandy. He took up a spoon after stubbing out his cigarette, and began to laddle a bit of soup towards his mouth. He swallowed without slurping and laid the spoon down.

"Look," he began, striking a more cordial tone, "you're a crime family. You're not the police. You only care about what goes on insofar as it cuts into your bottom line. Ciara flew off the handle. I tried to reason with her, we all did really, but the woman was unstable and our confidential informers were not as reliable as they should have been, which led to an escalation. For that, I am prepared to speak on behalf of the IWU in apologizing, Mr. Porter. We don't go out of our way to hurt your family, at least we shouldn't have. Ciara was a maniac, but now she's locked away in Mountjoy and if she has a psych evaluation they will probably put her in a straight-jacket for the rest of her life. We are now in the firm, capable hands of Mr. Armstrong who has tried so mightily to make peace with Porters, despite a widespread sentiment that bartering with the Porters is a waste of time because, as is the nature of your business, honor is a scarcity among thieves. Believe me, Machiavelli would be proud. That's beside the point."

He took up another spoonful, blew on it, then swallowed. "We need our weapons supplies. Now, with the kind of work we do it's no doubt that some people will die. Innocent people, even. Most of you have been in the Army, so you may know that even when you're on the right side of the war, you still come out with bloodstained hands. But as for all the theatrical explosions, that's behind us. Everything that we do is to further the cause, and blowing up ice cream parlors and libraries is not exactly going to further the revolution. So I'll suggest a compromise. The IWU will recoup some of the property damages you have sustained, plus a little extra for emotional trauma," he glanced at Aldous with amusement, "and we will inform our union members about the quality and affordability of the many fine establishments that you run in this city." He took a sip of brandy.

"In return, we keep our weapons stockpiles and freedom to operate. You don't release any information damaging to Mr. Armstrong's campaign, although you are not required to be of assistance in any way. We stay tight-lipped, this issue dies at this table, and from henceforth we return to operating in those different realms I was speaking of. What say you Porter?"

He looked to James for an answer.

Misty Gray Enzyme

 

[Fletchawk]

Alexander Quinn Armstrong
​

Quinn eyed the man across from him after speaking about his sibling. He had been hoping get more of a reaction out of him but Quinn's mischievous smile softened into something kinder once he realized Adam's friendliness towards Grace was currently platonic.

"Perhaps. I never claimed to be a benevolent brother though," he mused aloud before taking a sip from the water that had been set before him.

The statement was indeed true, as he intended to tease his sister with Adam's intended future visits. Grace might deny it but Quinn was sure she would be ecstatic by the news. Pleased that he was surely in for a good show in the future at his sibling's expense, his mouth reformed into the smirk that he had before.

Adam's tendency to drop deep into thought didn't go unnoticed. He could only guess at what had preoccupied his friend's mind, but he intended to address it since it was obviously weighing on Adam.

"If I might ask, is there something bothering you?" Quinn asked bluntly as the waitress returned to take their order.

He didn't expect an immediate answer, hence him asking before they ordered their food so Adam could have some time to contemplate the inquiry.

Pyroclast [Adam]

 

[mpower]

Kennedy Sullivan​

The street lights illuminated the sky partially, different than in the countryside, thankfully Kennedy was spared from leaving the city often and get out into those wildlands anyway, he really wasn't a country boy, even though Ireland was having a good amount of grasslands and farmers. "I'll make sure to be a nice uncle, maybe even their best uncle...even though I am sure there's big competition going on there already", he smirked on the thought of him and his cousins competing for the 'best uncle' award, probably a little childish of him, wish thinking for a better world, a world without issues and whatever's coming up these days. As Kennedy was seated, his left hand wandered around on the armrest of the chair, seemingly not being able to rest as he either tapped a rhythm on the armrest or clapped silently on it, its counterpart on the right side remained calm and steady.

While this occurred, Kennedy listened to the options Shannon could present him for any possible Mrs Kennedy. "Who's performing there? Maybe I can enlighten them with my gorgeous voice as well", he snickered slightly, tilted his head to the right and visualised his poor attempt of performing any proper vocal on stage, he really wasn't a good singer.

"Maybe I can find a mixture of getting out with the guys and that Jazz Club, although I prefer classy over rowdy, I'll probably owe Connor minimum one of these nights."
He shifted his body weight to the left, leaning against the left inner side of the chair and coughed up once, his hand stabilised, but he still listened silently to her small explanation of who Jackson is but did not ask any more questions, he left it for later to get to know the man better himself. Kennedy stood up and took off his jacket, placing it down on the back of his chair as he lowered himself down, glancing back up to Shannon. "You don't seem to have another glass of water for your dehydrated nephew"?

Misty Gray (Shannon)

 

[Enzyme]

Carter Dresden ​

Carter's stiff forearm forced open the door of the bathroom. The weight in his right hand was concealed by his hip, his left hand drifting over to rip the remaining duct tape off the grip. "Let's finish this," Carter spat to Evan, peering at James through the crowd. The sea of bodies soon replaced the brief open space they had been presented with, once they were forced to step back out. Keeping the Smith & Wesson 39 low below his waist, he subtly racked the slide and loaded in a fresh round. As he grew closer to the table, he could feel his trigger finger begin to itch. He watched James' mouth move, undoubtedly spewing entitled bullshit. He didn't bother to look and see if Evan had followed him, as he was able to feel the comparable danger just a few inches behind him. His line of sight was obstructed by a few patrons crossing by the table.

Nevertheless, he aimed his pistol up to James. The first shot illuminated the dark scenery, exposing the imperfections on everyone's faces. He didn't see James flinch from the blast. Instead, an elderly woman collapsed in front of him, her pearl necklace spilling across the floor. Carter didn't bend his elbow in a simple acknowledgment of the woman, slamming the trigger back once more. The bright muzzle flare restricted Carter's vision as he rapidly pulled the trigger again, irradiating his gritted teeth and rage-filled eyes. His aim drifted across the table, striking Jackson twice in the chest and falling on Tommy, the bullet landing to the left of his jugular. The hit on Tommy seemingly went clean through, splattering crimson across the bleach white walls behind them.

There was a brief stutter in their loud gunfire, where screaming and crying of the customers took its place. As men and woman ran past them, Carter ejected the empty magazine from his handgun onto the glass-riddled floor. The shooting had grabbed the attention of the Porter men outside, who approached the restaurant with their sub-machine guns ready. Carter's attention was drawn to them as the first bullet exploded the central glass pane. Slapping in a fresh magazine, Carter moved his handgun in the direction of the Porter goons and aimlessly fired in their direction. Despite the danger, the men pressed forward, their hailstorm of bullets obliterating any object in its path. Carter and Evan simultaneously acknowledged that it was time to make their getaway. With the IWU goons approaching from the street as well, the two made their way to the kitchen, where a van was sitting idle in the alley.

Misty Gray Shireling

 

[Pyroclast]

Adam Morgan

Adam was grateful to be interrupted by the waitress this time, having been caught somewhat off-guard by Quinn's question. With a smile, he snapped shut the menu and handed it to the young woman. "The caponata for me, please."

After she had left, Adam took the glass of wine to his lips before catching Quinn's eye and setting it down again. "Sorry, I don't mean to be distracted," he said, bringing his hands together and squeezing his knuckles. "I'm just having some girl trouble, I suppose." His eyes drifted to the table and there was a long pause as he worked out how best to navigate the conversation so as not to give himself away.

"I've been...seeing someone," he hesitantly drew out. "I like her a great deal, but we're not exactly well-suited. To an almost impossible level, I mean. I've been trying to figure out how to make it work, but it's becoming a bit of a dangerous game." A small, diffident laugh escaped him then. Part of him could criticise his honest nature and wished his friend had never tried to draw the truth from him, yet another part of him yearned to talk it through with someone. Then he looked up and asked, in a rather forthright manner, "Do you keep secrets, Quinn? Have you ever held onto one a bit too long, then found yourself stuck when something goes wrong?"

Interactions
Fletchawk Quinn

 

[Misty Gray]

Evan Shaw​

Evan was glad to finally get the show on the road, having found the conversation around the table even more tedious due to the knowledge none of it would mean shit once the four Porter men were all dead. With his handgun loaded and a spare magazine in his back pocket, Evan was more than ready when Carter gave him the cue. "With pleasure," he simply replied, with a cold determination in his eyes. Once back out in the main restaurant, Carter wasted no time in sending bullets towards the Porters. Evan remained close by, his right-arm raised as he focused on their targets whilst making sure to cover Carter from any unexpected counter-attacks. As Carter fired his bullets moving from James to Tommy, Evan wasn't about to let Aldous get up and walk away. Lucky for the Porter's lawyer, a panicked waiter got in the way and took a bullet to his chest. Evan's eagle eyes were able to pick up on the various customers and staff around him, but it was the familiar face of Grace Armstrong that caught his attention as she'd been walking towards the table when the shooting kicked off. Evan briefly considered his "boss" and it was probably thinking of Jared that made him even more willing to shoot the young woman. He pulled the trigger and the bullet rippled into Grace's arm, causing her to scream in pain. He'd not intended to kill her, but wasn't really bothered either way. Even a wound would be enough to stop Jared from lying his way out of this one with his perfect little family.

When the Porter goons arrived on the scene, Evan continued firing bullets in their direction, pausing only to reload his gun. It soon became apparent it was time for him and Carter to make their exit, leaving the Porter and IWU goons to make the rest of the mess. Covering each other, the two men soon fled the restaurant via the kitchen. A deep frustration flickered in Evan's mind as he noticed James was still up and about.

James Porter, Thomas Dempsey and Jared Armstrong
Grace Armstrong​

Although Jack had only minutes ago grated on James, the man's next series of words had him listening with a more open mind. Jared had already tried to reason and speak calmly, but that man had caused enough trouble already. Things, for now, weren't quite so personal where Jack was concerned. The man apologised on behalf of the IWU for harming his family, but James still reserved judgement on the authenticity of such a gesture. Words didn't seem to mean much at this stage. Jack offered to put theatrical explosions behind them and cease attacking Porter properties, in return for the IWU keeping their weapons and freedom, as well as James keeping quiet on Jared's election campaign. Considering he believed the IWU would never give up their weapons, the offer was a tempting one but James was a cautious and cynical man. Such an offer required much more deliberation and there was still always the chance the likes of Carter would never adhere to such an agreement. "Jared, I think you should have left the other two at the factory and just brought him," James pointed out, signalling to Jack. "Problem is--"

James was cut off from speaking further when Carter and Evan began shooting. The bullet that was intended for James instead hit an elderly lady, but he had no time to dwell on the innocent old dear as he found himself having to gain clearance from the line of fire. He'd seen Aldous was also lucky not to be hit. Jackson's plate had thankfully done its job and the position of the men meant Jackson obscured Tommy from James' view. Porter looked around for anything he could use, seriously cursing the fact he didn't have a gun on him, something that had made him feel naked all evening. James pushed a couple of customers out of the way, telling them to get on the floor away from stray bullets. His eyes fixed on Carter and Evan as the men made their departure. With his own armed men now descending on the scene to chase the two bastards, there was one man still in Porter's line of sight and Jared wasn't armed. If anything, Jared looked just as shocked and appalled at the situation as James was.

The sound of the gunfire distracted Tommy from thinking over the proposition Jack had just made to James. As he saw and heard the impact of the two bullets hitting Jackson's chest plate, he quickly turned to him. Tommy was prepared to drag his friend down onto the ground if it meant getting him out of the way of any bullets that could hit the unprotected parts of his body. Tommy didn't get chance to act on those thoughts as he felt the bullet rip into the side of his neck. He instinctively wrapped his hand around his own throat. He stumbled out of his seat and fell down onto the floor on his knees, the blood wasting no time in painting his hands red.


James heard the sound of a young woman calling out for her dad. He snapped his head around to see Grace standing there in shock as she witnessed the carnage around her own father. Her right hand was clutching her left arm above the elbow, blood escaping down her forearm from beneath her fingertips. James easily concluded it was merely a wound, which would be nothing compared to how she was likely feeling see the the mess surrounding her own father. The man in question dodged the bullets being exchanged between the henchmen of the two gangs, hoping to reach his injured daughter. James rounded on Armstrong and didn't hesitate as he violently slammed his fist into the Englishman's perfect jaw. James then grabbed him by the throat, dragging him backwards and until he stumbled again the table, his back on the tabletop whilst his feet struggled to stay firmly on the ground. James glanced down to the table and grabbed the steak knife from on top of the napkin. There was a pause as James held tightly onto the handle, pointing the blade dangerously close to the enemy's face. As much as he wanted to finish Armstrong off there and then, there were too many witnesses. There was also the sight of Grace in the back of his mind and how she seemed to be innocent in all of this. He'd been present when Lucy and Sinead saw their own father murdered, so he couldn't bring himself to let Grace go through the same because of her Jared's mistakes. James tossed the knife aside and instead grabbed the white cloth napkin. He released Jared before grabbing the man's wrist and slamming the cloth into his hand. "Help your kid and thank her for buying you more fucking time," he furiously told him, through gritted teeth. Jared didn't need to be told twice, instead rushing to Grace to help her.

Given he was sat next to Tommy, Jackson would have seen the bullet rip through his friend's neck and it wouldn't take much thought to realise this was a severe wound. The blood coming from his neck was by now covering his hand and being coughed up from the back of his throat, removing any doubt of Tommy's rapidly dwindling chances. Tommy could see Aldous nearby and looked to the man, reflecting something in his eyes that seemed final, like it would be the last time he did set eyes on him. "Ali..." he began, disrupted by more spluttering. The pain he was feeling was only outweighed by the fear brought on by struggling to breathe. Aliana entered is thoughts and he hoped she wouldn't be angry at him for missing another date. He was sure she knew he cared about her feelings by now. His mind then snapped to the other woman who was often in his thoughts - his mother. His eyes darted around as he looked for James, hoping to feel some hope by seeing his decisive boss, but he was losing focus, only able to fix his vision back onto Jackson. "Oh God..." he gasped as the reality fully set in...


Enzyme (Carter, Jackson) Shireling (Jack, Aldous)

 

[Enzyme]

Jackson McCarthy
​

Jackson casually sipped his beer as Jack spoke. Far more calm and collected than Carter, he actually found himself agreeing with the man. While he wasn't sure what James would decide on, everything he said sounded reasonable. Jackson was tired of being shot at. While working in the mob entailed that level of danger, he’d never had to look over his shoulder more than in the past few months. Making peace with the IWU would definitely prove beneficial to both his wallet and his health. Placing the pint back down on the table, he addressed the burning cigarette he had left in the ashtray. His eyes glanced over to James attempting to gauge his reaction.

Jackson picked back up the pint and smiled when James made his remark about leaving Carter and Evan back in the factory. It seemed to lighten the mood, seeing as everyone was starting to get on the same page. Before James could finish his sentence, however, a loud noise overpowered his voice. A wave of shock and confusion fell over the restaurant as the sound of balloon popping echoed throughout the large space, along with an old woman collapsing in front of their table. Jackson’s eyes shot to the front of their table, staring down Carter’s barrel. Two quick gunshots followed and before Jackson could react, the glass pint exploded in his hand, leaving behind only the handle in his grip. It was followed with a heavy amount of force being pressed against his chest, along with a ding sound emitted from the plate under his shirt. He felt the pain in his healing ribs, as it fought back from collapsing his lungs. He saw Carter’s aim shift and Jackson was soon met with a splatter of blood across his face, which temporarily blinded his right eye. Jackson quickly shot his hands down to the wooden table and flipped it over, sending silverware and plates scattering across the floor and briefly covering them from the attack.

Gunshots in the distance returned fire on the pair, giving the men at the table a brief second of security. His eyes looked to Tommy beside him, who had blood pouring out of a hole in his neck. “Fuckin’ hell,” Jackson muttered. The hole was deep enough to where Jackson could almost make out the tendons in his neck. As Tommy attempted to speak, blood gushed from his mouth. Jackson was snapped back into reality as the gunshots grew louder. He slapped his hands down to Tommy’s shirt and dragged him out from behind the table. As he moved for the open door, plates and glasses exploded from gunfire. The IWU men had made their way in from the kitchen and the Porters stood firmly at the front, leaving Tommy and Jackson in the middle of an all out war. He reactively squinted his eyes as pieces of glass and wood bounced up from the floor at them. Soon, they were greeted by the warm streetlights, as Jackson dragged Tommy through the broken glass door.

Once they had made it out on the street, Jackson immediately looked back to Tommy. “Shit… Shit…” He gasped, clasping his hand around part of Tommy’s neck. The blood was warm and there was a lot of it. Jackson’s hand was quickly stained red, past his wrist. He moved to his white dress shirt, ripping the buttons clean off in one swift tug. He then pressed the shirt to both the entrance and exit wound. He tried to squeeze as hard as he could, without cutting off Tommy’s oxygen. “You’re gonna be okay, Tommy. You hear me?” He could see how dazed the poor man was, his eyes floating aimlessly. “Hey! Look at me! Just keep looking at me!” He ordered Tommy, firmly holding the man’s face in his left hand. “I need some fuckin’ help over here!” Jackson shouted out to the men, his voice cracking as emotion slowly seeped through the shock.

Misty Gray Shireling

 

[Shireling]

Jack Brady
​

He had been enjoying his soup, goddamnit. Jack looked up in the direction of the bathroom for just a split second, hearing the footsteps of the two men approaching again. He saw their eyes, steeled in murderous determination. In that brief moment of quiet before the bark of pistol fire, his mind dwelled there for what seemed like hours. He felt the weight of the spoon in his grip, smelled the soup, he sighed heavily. Then the shots started. He wanted to scream, wanted to silence these two idiots who were about to turn the meeting into a bloodbath, but all he could manage was to rise in one swift motion, able to get out from behind the bullets meant for the others at the table, and dart to one side. He heard the report of the weapons in the closed room, screams and people falling, as he made ready and bolted from the table to the nearby bar. What he hadn't counted on was Grace, arm bloodied with a bullet wound, obstructing his path.

He barrelled straight into the girl, nearly knocking her over before he was able to grapple her. A sort of automatic reflex kicked in and he bent his torso over hers and tossed her alongside himself behind the bar onto the cold tile floor. She might have been injured in the process, but they would at least be alive. As they hit the floor, automatic gunfire shattered the windows and obliterated the bottles above their heads, spilling spirits of all varieties over the counter and spraying Jack with a fine alcoholic mist. He rose to a crouch and peaked his head over the counter to see the ensuing gunfight, and Jared and James locked in a melee. His eyes darted to the doors, then back to Carter and Evan. The two of them could die here in their futile assassination attempt, but he certainly was not. The crowd of confused patrons was making the situation even more chaotic, everything occurring in split seconds. He glanced in Grace's direction, noticing the bleeding.

"You're hit," he muttered stupidly, "goddamn, if I had known.." His face contorted in anger. Then he turned back to the service door into the kitchen, where a few of the wait staff had fled to escape the gunfire. He scanned the floor, then said to Grace while explaining with his eyes, "See that service door? Run through there and keep running. I'll be behind you." He said, ready to exit the building but all the more keen to do so before the cops showed up.

Aldous Penshurst
​

Aldous didn't have the luxury of seeing it coming. He was about to dig into his salad when he heard the first shot followed by a few more. He saw a spray of blood, Tommy hit, and he threw himself away from the table. One of the assailants leveled a gun at him, but a waiter ran in the way in his panic and was gunned down like a dog. Aldous flung himself again behind a nearby table as the report of automatic weapons fire started loudly outside. He bade his time as the fight intensified, then when he saw Jackson leaving with what he assumed to be Tommy's corpse he vaulted over the broken window and walked at a crouch over to the two men. He was, as luck would have it, unharmed.

"Tommy, sir," the Englishman said with a voice deep in the pit of his stomach as he looked down at the dying man, "we need to get you to a hospital." He took his tie off and attempted to find somewhere to tie it on as a tournequette, but the wound was in a stubborn place. He wadded it up and shoved it against the wound, relieving Jackson from attending to his friend. "I've got him," he said, looking about. "You need to call an ambulance. He's bleeding out fast."

Enzyme Misty Gray

 

[Misty Gray]

Thomas Dempsey​

Tommy continued to clutch his throat as Jackson dragged him out of the chaos in the restaurant onto the significantly safer street. When Jackson used his shirt to tend to the wound, it allowed Tommy to let go and have his hand to drop to rest by side. Despite being tended to, it didn't alter the fact he was still bleeding heavily, the blood at the back of his throat still threatening to choke him unless he coughed it up again. As he eliminated more blood from his mouth, he let out a deep and strained breath. By now, his face had lost much of its usual colour and the paleness was noticeable beneath the streetlights. He heard Jackson reassure him, telling him he was going to be okay. Tommy wasn't exactly a pessimist, but right now he doubted he would be able to fight this one. He'd already been shot twice recently, perhaps this was his third time unlucky. He shook his head in disagreement, but it was barely noticeable given he didn't want to move his neck too harshly. He looked to his friend when ordered to. He was at least grateful in the knowledge he wouldn't die alone. When his mother was killed by that cop, she didn't have anyone by her side to reassure her, to tell her she would be okay. With the life he'd accepted for himself since losing his parents, one thing Tommy always expected was that he'd die alone, so to have one of his closest friends by his side was more than he could have asked for in this moment. "Course I will," he fibbed, pausing to gasp for air. "It's... your round," he joked, managing to flash a weaker version of his familiar boyish smile.

Tommy heard Jackson shouting for help and this was followed by another familiar voice as Aldous joined them. He was glad for the additional company, but when the man told Jackson to go and call an ambulance, Tommy reached out and weakly grabbed Jackson's only just freed up hand. "No. No..." he protested. If he didn't already believe he was dying, the looks on his friends' faces and the tone in their voices would have been more than enough. He doubted the ambulance would get there in time and if they were so insistent on calling one, they'd have to ask someone else to do it. All Tommy cared about in that moment was spending the time with those he cared about. "Please.... I don't want to die alone," he pleaded with them. He squeezed Jackson's hand again and nodded to Aldous. "Come on, lads." As his energy began to rapidly drain from him, his attempts to put on a brave face lost any power. Letting his guard down meant he finally allowed the tears to stream down his face as he gave into his emotions. Another fit of coughs was triggered and with it came more blood. Tommy no longer had the energy to speak or the strength to fight. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to block out the fact that he couldn't breathe. The oxygen rapidly dwindled until his struggling heart finally stopped, leaving Tommy completely lifeless.

Enzyme (Jackson) Shireling (Aldous)

 

[Misty Gray]

Conor Sullivan​

The pub landlord's jaw tightened as Conor said he wanted to see what was going on downstairs. He looked to Rudy who was standing close behind Conor and then looked to Syd a short distance away. As much as he wanted to, he knew it wasn't a good idea to deny the Porter, not when he was alone and two of the heavies had been sent. Conor took a step back and swept his arm out in the direction of the basement staircase. "Lead the way, Dick," Conor flatly asked of him.

"Actually, it's Richard," Mr. Duncan replied as he started walking to the top of the stairs.

"Whatever you say, Dick," he muttered back to the man. Conor gave Rudy and Syd a nod for them to follow along, content the only others in the pub were those in the basement. He then placed a firm arm around Richard's shoulder as if making sure he made it all the way down to the bottom step. When they reached the end of he stairs, Conor let go of Richard and allowed him to open the door. Conor, and presumably the other two men, followed the landlord into the large basement room. There were various casino tables spread about the room, but the focus seemed to be on the poker table in the centre of the room which was in active use by the six men stood around it. "Evening, lads!" Conor jovially greeted them as he approached one end of the table. He reached out to a pile of poker chips that was standing on the edge of the table, then clumsily knocked them over. "What y'all playin'?" he asked, as if he didn't want to believe they could possibly be gambling when they'd made an agreement with the Porters to do nothing of the sort.

"Fuck off, would you?" Vernon complained at Conor, retrieving the poker chips that had now been spread out across the table.

Enzyme (other Duncan fellas) Shireling (Rudy) Pyroclast (Syd)

 

[Enzyme]

Duncans & Company​

The voices of laughter bounced off the walls in the small room. There was a sense of haziness in the room due to the smoke from various lit cigarettes and cigars. "Put 'em down, Johaan," the crowd ordered, a sense of excitement electrifying the table. Johaan took his time, hiding his face behind his cards. "How 'bout a flush?" Johaan placed the cards down on the table, exposing his deep grin. The table erupted, only Martin remaining silent. There was a moment of silence as the crowd looked to him. He didn't seem happy about his cards, but he'd bluffed in the past. A few men beckoned for him to place his cards down, but he took his time eyeing Johaan. Johaan didn't flinch, grinning with his stare. Martin property laid down the cards, exposing his empty hand. The crowd erupted into cheers as Johaan pulled the content of earnings towards himself. "Alright, alright," Johaan settled the crowd. "Who wants in next?"

As men pulled up various chairs around the table, the main door to the room flew open. The laughter immediately died, giving the room an unnatural silence. The piece in Conor's hand became an eyesore, as all the men eyed both him and the gun. "Conor," Johaan greeted him, making his best attempt to not make eye contact with the man. The men watched Conor knock the chips across the table, but only one of them spoke up. "Vernon, shut up," Johaan slowly and aggressively drew out, keeping his eyes towards the table like the rest of them. Martin spoke up now, attempting to makeup for Vernon's outburst. "We're just playing sum' cards. Only close friends 'ere," he assured Conor.

Patrick cautiously made his way down from where the Porters had come. Armed with a wooden cricket bat, he stealthily stepped down the stairs to the bright light below. As he grew closer, the intoxicating smoke filled his lungs. Everyone seemingly had their backs to him, unaware of his presences. His sights were set on Rudy, beside Conor. With the wooden bat cocked behind his head, he inched closer and closer. Before he could fully step behind the man, the wooden floor let out a loud creak, exposing himself. No matter if he had been compromised, he stepped closer, hoping Rudy wouldn't notice before he could bludgeon the man's head in.

Misty Gray Shireling Pyroclast

 

[Shireling]

Rudy Meyers
​

Rudy was completely unaware he was being snuck up on, although he should have been doing a sweep of the area since he was the furthest behind in the group. Conor approached the table and accosted the gamblers sitting about. There was a bit of chattering, nothing that interested Rudy, and then he heard it. Well, first he felt that odd sensation that he was being watched, which he shrugged off. Then, the creak of the floorboard behind him threw him into an alerted state. He pivoted, seeing a man aiming a baseball bat at his head.

It was all down to reflex. Rudy stuck his hands up, catching the handle of the bat above the wielder's hands with his right fist while clasping the tip with the palm. Using his right hand as a fulcrum, he swung the bat down the opposite way to strike a glancing blow on his assailant's head. The strike bludgeoned the man's ear, causing it to bleed, but did little serious injury. In his stupor, Rudy was able to wrench the bat from his hands and quickly turned it to strike. He jabbed Patrick in the stomach with the wide end of the bat, causing him to double over at which point he brought the weapon above his head and sent it crashing down on his back with enough force to splinter the wooden bat. He crashed to the ground, likely with a broken spine or at least a few shattered disks, and remained still. Rudy, having lost the majority of the bat, waved the jagged, cracked handle in the direction of the gentlemen at the table.

"Anyone else?" He challenged.

Misty Gray Enzyme

 

[Misty Gray]

Grace and Jared Armstrong​

Grace had overheard her father on the phone a couple of nights ago, discussing a meeting he was having with the Porters. This had filled her with great concern, given the gruesome gift he'd received on Christmas Day. She believed if she voiced her concerns, she'd simply be fobbed off, by any one of her family members. She knew Jared would play it down and put on another brave face, trying to be heroic about wanting to reason or find peace with those sick gangsters. She'd been called a risk-taker on occasions, or perhaps just stupidly reckless. Maybe in the future she would look back to today, and she was sure she'd think herself to have been reckless too. Regardless, after staying late at college, she enlisted in the help of her friends to help her give Jared's security guards the slip. The two guys were probably just as bored of keeping surveillance on Grace as she was of seeing them watching her. It was easy to evade them and she'd soon found her way into the restaurant, keeping her distance as she watched Jared, Carter, Jack and Evan sit opposite the four mob monsters who were ruining the city. She didn't know much about Jack or Evan, but she liked Carter and was at least grateful he was there to protect her father if he needed it.

As she kept a low profile at one end of the bar, she noticed Jackson and Tommy ordering drinks at the opposite end. They seemed to be speaking privately and it made Grace feel nervous as she wondered if they were conspiring against Jared. When she'd eventually caved in and started walking towards the table to try get her father to leave the restaurant, the sudden eruption of gunfire took her by surprise and caused her to cover her mouth in shock. Even in the terrifying moment, it was clear to see the Porters were the ones being attacked and by Jared's own friends. As she turned to find a hiding place, a bullet ripped through the side of her arm. Though the wound would prove to be minor, it didn't look that way as the blood began pouring out down to her hand. She clutched her arm as she stood stunned on the spot. Her eyes were fixed on her father and the stare only intensified when he noticed her and returned the gaze. She flinched as James hit Jared and shouted for the Irishman to stop.

Grace's focus was broken when Jack dragged her out of the danger and behind the bar. She instinctively screamed for him to let go of her, until she realised he was trying to help. Her good arm had collided with the tile floor, but it was a pain that would soon enough go away. She covered her face with her forearms at the glass bottles were shattered above their heads. When Jack spoke to her to point out she was hit, Grace quickly nodded her head. "No shit!" she snapped back, though her frustration really wasn't intended for Jack. When he told her to run and escape though the kitchen, she looked in the direction of where she'd last see Jared. "My dad..." she worriedly protested. Reluctantly, she rushed into the kitchen, but she didn't want to leave the building, not without Jared.

The exchanges of gunfire seemed to slow down, but that didn't matter anyway as Jared made a determined beeline to where he'd seen Jack lead his daughter to. When he rounded the bar, he only saw Jack, having just missed Grace as she sneaked into the kitchen. Jared's bottom lip was bleeding and the side of his face already a deep shade of red, a precursor to the heavy bruising that would set in at a later time, thanks to James' heavy fist. The anger was evident on his face as he angrily stared at Jack. Carter and Evan had gone behind his back to turn the meeting into a bloodbath, so he had no choice but to assume Jack was in on the who thing too. He certainly hadn't helped during the discussion. "Where the fuck is my daughter?" he furiously asked Jack. The rage in his eyes and his clenched fist made it seem like the tall man could lash out at any moment. He supposed all that was stopping him was his daughter. Thoughts of his family always was the thing to drag him out of his sociopath tendencies. "You and those two fools have fucked it all up, but right now Grace is my concern..."

Shireling (Jack)