Realistic or Modern Empire City: The Irish Mob - IC (Closed)

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

At Steve's glance to the armed soldiers that surrounded them, Syd understood that the man wasn't under any pressure to tell them who they were or who they worked for. So he stayed silent, instead taking a moment to etch all of their faces into his memory for future reference. He had a feeling they would be meeting again someday.

With Savannah now in Peter's arms, the group took their leave, his uncle spewing threats at the kidnappers as he supported the young woman in walking to the car. Syd soon followed, feeling relieved yet dejected. He tried to hide his concern over the deal he had had to make, but Roxie must have detected something in his expression regardless. Once outside, Syd felt her hand slide into his. In an effort to remain stoic, he kept his head held high. Although he didn't look her in the eye, he was grateful to have her at his side. Her words were kind and reassuring. "Well, he didn't really give me a choice," he sighed. "But...thanks." Holding her hand brought his attention to a slight unevenness in her step and he finally looked down to notice the blood running down her calf. "Hey, what happened to you? You alright?" His voice was still calm, but he couldn't stop a hint of concern from showing through and he tightened his grip on her hand before letting go to instead wrap his arm around her as they walked. "Sorry you got caught up in this, Roxie."

Getting behind the wheel of his damaged Lincoln helped Syd to focus on his responsibilities rather than fret over the safety of his family and the damaging business deal he had made. "Alright Savannah, we're gonna get you home," he announced, not hesitating to start the car and pull away from the site. "You're safe, now." Her cries propelled him into a deep silence, allowing Peter to comfort and soothe her. He was so angry that she had been targeted, that another innocent member of his family had been touched, hurt, threatened and that several civilians had been killed in the process. Despite his inability to shut off his thoughts, however, he did his best to drive as smoothly and safely as he could without functional headlights. They had been through enough tonight without getting into more trouble.

As soon as they arrived at the Callahan home, Syd let out a small sigh and moved around to help Roxie out of the car. He barely had time to look over her wound before Savannah came and hugged him tightly. A strange mix of anxiety and relief surged through him as he realised how close they had come to losing her. He wrapped his arms around her securely and kissed the top of her head. Her gratitude moved him, as though she had feared that he might choose the business over her life, and he tightened his hold on her to show her how grateful he was that she was alive. "Hey, you always come first, Sav, I promise. Always."

By now he was a little choked up himself and so hung back while she embraced Roxie. At the time, he had been almost angry that she had ended up coming with them, but now he was glad that she could be here for his cousin. The two clearly cared a great deal about each other and seeing them interact like this helped to instill his faith in Roxie. How could she possibly be an enemy of the mob when she was willing to put herself in harm's way to rescue Savannah?

Finally inside, Peter called for Finn to come over and tend to Roxie and Savannah's wounds. Syd left the three on the sofa and anxiously flitted through the house, bringing through glasses of water and whiskey and any kind of chocolate he could find in his aunt and uncle's cupboards in hopes of relieving the shock. When he came in for the last time, Savannah was fretting about the unknown whereabouts of the rest of the family. It hadn't slipped his mind, but he had been momentarily concerned with caring for his cousin and wanted to prioritise her for a few minutes before returning to the theatre. He knelt down in front of Savannah and placed a hand on her knee. "I'll see where they're up to, don't worry," he told them. "You all stay here. I'll have one of guards make some calls while I head back to the scene." Before anyone could protest, Syd headed for the front door and made his swift exit. To his surprise and relief, he caught sight of his parents approaching the house. "Is everyone okay?" he called out, breaking into a jog until he reached them. All the unresolved arguments between them caused him to hesitate for a second, but he couldn't deny his relief at seeing them safe and so moved in to briefly embrace each of them. "I'm glad you made it out," he said flatly, trying to push his emotions down. "Um...so, if you didn't see it, you've probably heard by now that Savannah was kidnapped. We've got her home now, she's inside and safe. Peter and Roxie are looking after her and Finn is on his way." Syd bit down on his lip, anxious about telling his father what had happened. "Dad, do you, uh...do you wanna step in the study with me for a minute?"

The arrival of the others removed the need for Syd to explain why he had come back inside, so he only offered the three on the sofa a brief, reassuring smile before leading his father to a study at the back of the house. "Just close the door, there," he quietly commanded, leaning against the desk and bringing a hand up to cover his eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ..." He heaved a sigh and then rested his hands back on the desk behind him, eventually raising his head to look his father in the eye. The events of the kidnapping were flashing through his mind, yet he still didn't know where to begin. "Look, this isn't easy to say, but I'll just say it," he began, taking another deep breath. "These men who took Savannah, they wouldn't tell us who they are. But they wouldn't give her back unless we, uh..." He shifted on the spot, struggling to navigate through his shame and guilt. "Gave them the contact details of all our suppliers." His gaze fell to the floor and he raked a hand through his hair, angry at himself but trying not to show it. "I know it's going to compromise our business - I should have been able to come up with a better deal, but they had Savannah's life in their hands and I didn't want to, you know, test their patience. I'm sorry, dad. I failed." Syd shook his head, but after a short silence managed to look his father in the eye once again. "But look, it was me who created this mess, so don't think I'm going to just walk away from it. We'll...we'll come up with something."

Interactions
Misty Gray James, Savannah, Sinead, Emery
Bellz Lucy, Peter, Roxie

 

[Misty Gray]

James Porter​

As Syd jogged towards him, James was relieved to see his son was back in one piece and appearing physically unscathed from giving chase to Savannah's kidnappers. Returning the younger man's embrace came without any thought or hesitation. Despite their recent issues, James still cared deeply for his son and he was grateful to know he'd made it home in one piece. "I'm glad you weren't hurt, mate. You and Pete did a good job bringing Savvy home," he praised him. He firmly patted Syd's back before stepping away from the fatherly hug.

James nodded along as Syd explained about seeing Savannah dragged from the stage, making it clear he'd seen everything. "Is she okay?" he asked, though he intended to find out for himself. There was mention of Roxie being inside the house, helping to look after his niece. James didn't say anything on that matter, instead choosing to focus on the fact Savannah was safe and with her father and friend. He would worry about the Roxie issue later. However, as Syd requested he joined him in the study, James wondered if the Roxie subject would be cropping up much sooner than he wished. "Of course," he flatly replied. James placed a kiss on Lucy's cheek before following Syd into the Callahans' house.

Following Syd into the house, James couldn't help but slow to a stop when he saw Savannah being comforted on the sofa. He sent Peter a nod and a brief pat on the shoulder, showing he was glad the man was back safe. Although he looked to Roxie and noticed her wounded leg, his expression remained neutral, wishing to avoid dragging anything back up in the current circumstances. James crouched down so he could look to Savannah's face. He was the head of the family and therefore knew some would place the blame onto him for his niece being taken. He was angry with himself for trusting his security team had covered all bases - an issue that he would be addressing with those responsible. One thing he refused to do was shy away from looking his niece in the eyes and seeing for himself how she had been affected. It sickened him to see the innocent young woman's injuries and the clear emotional pain she was suffering alongside them. "Savvy, I'm sorry. Is there anything I can--" he softly began.

"Please..." Savannah interrupted her uncle and quickly shook her head. She didn't have the energy to blame her family for what had happened, even if it was their business that had put her in danger in the first place. She only blamed those who hurt her. The blonde's eyes met her uncle's and for a moment her face appeared void of emotion. "You can find them and make them suffer like I had to suffer," she flatly told him. She didn't like violence and she'd lived her life avoiding harming others, but she wanted Steve and Luke to be punished. She knew more than she cared to admit that her uncle was capable of arranging that kind of justice. Uncomfortable with such dark thoughts, Savannah shuffled closer to Peter and rested her head on his shoulder. James nodded in acknowledgement of his niece's request. "I will do that," he assured her.

James caught up with Syd and closed the door behind himself once in the study. He placed his hands in his trouser pockets as he observed Syd's uncomfortable body language. Though there was a chance the chat was going to be about Roxie, it seemed to be even more serious and related to the events that had just happened. Syd spoke about the men who had taken Savannah and that he hadn't found out who they were. "We will," he firmly pointed on. One way or another, he intended to find who was behind it all. Syd followed by revealing he'd given the men the details of their suppliers. James let out a loud sigh as he dropped his head back, his vision for a moment looking up towards the ceiling. He then looked back to Syd as the younger man continued to speak, saying he should have thought of a better deal. James lightly shook his head in response.

There was a brief silence before James took his hands out of his pockets and took a few steps closer to his son. "Savvy's alive and she's home. You did not fail," he firmly told him, almost sounding like he was berating him. "The lives of this family come before anything else. Making sure they didn't kill Savvy was your top priority and you succeeded."

Once he was sure he'd drilled into Syd that Savannah's life was most important, he thought about the new problem. James folded his arms across his chest and briefly paced the room. "I'm going to have to get home and make some calls. We need to make sure our contacts are expecting these people. I'll have our men make it difficult for those pricks to get anywhere near our suppliers. We put on additional security - especially around our biggest suppliers. They go anywhere near them and they're fucked. Maybe they'll even lead us back to who's behind all this in the process." He rubbed his chin as he let out a deep breath. "We need to make sure our contacts remain loyal to us. Money talks..." he trailed off. "They won't get within a mile of the Cubans - not without knowing their details," he admitted, knowing even Syd wouldn't know that information.

Pyroclast (Syd)
Mentions Bellz

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

Despite having been an active member of the mob for 12 years, Syd was still afraid of letting his father down. James was his hero and had been ever since he had entered the family - his opinion meant everything to him and so it pained him to think he might be disappointing him again. Their relationship was still suffering after they had fallen out over Roxie, so Syd was expecting this to add to his father's frustration. After explaining himself as best he could, he anxiously awaited the mob boss' reaction to the news.

The heavy sigh that James released only intensified his guilt and he spent the next minute or so convinced that he had made a terrible decision, that he had let down the mob, that everyone would be angry with him. When his father approached him, he edged away slightly, expecting him to put on the deep, menacing voice that he used when he was really angry. But in the end his tone didn't match his words in the way Syd had expected; rather, the man assured him that he had made the right choice, that the most important thing was that he had succeeded in bringing Savannah home alive and safe. Syd let himself relax a little and nodded to show his father that he understood.

Although he could see that it was going to be a challenge to sort out, it made him feel better to see James already coming up with ideas. Arms folded, Syd chewed on his bottom lip as he listened to his father and watched him pace about the study. "Money talks, you're right," he agreed. "The thing is, we don't know who we're dealing with. If these guys are asking for our suppliers thinking they can steal a major source of our income, they must be fairly confident that they can pay them more than what we've been paying. I get the impression they've got a close eye on us, and have for some time now." Syd's eyes narrowed as he pictured the faces of the two men that had kidnapped Savannah. "'You'll find out soon enough'..." he recalled, then looking to his father once again. "That's what they said, dad. They didn't tell us who they were, but it sounds like they're plotting something. Hopefully that means we'll get to confront whoever's behind all this, but...I think we should prepare ourselves for another imminent attack. Secure our suppliers before they can make any deals, and increase security around our homes and businesses." It was always the same - every time there was an attack on one of their establishments, security was increased, yet the enemy always managed to find a way through despite their efforts. Syd sighed and brought a hand to his head for a second before leaning back against the desk. "The Cubans, right," he backtracked, a small, exasperated smile appearing on his face. "Yeah, they don't have those details at least. They'd better not find out though...they always know where to find us." He quietly imitated Steve's smug tone of voice as he repeated the man's words, and then sighed, letting his head drop down as he thought of the terrorism his family were likely to be subjected to.

Interactions
Misty Gray James

 

[Misty Gray]

James Porter​

Later that evening...

Upon entering the house, James was glad to find everything in one piece and his home much calmer than he'd expected with four kids around the place. He hadn't had opportunity to fully scrutinise George, but the man had been with Finn for over a decade and he trusted Lucy's cousin's judgement. He'd had some reservations about George being able to manage looking after the brats, but seeing the man had everything under control quickly made him forget such concerns. James had been about to ask George how babysitting had gone and to show his gratitude, but he was distracted when the telephone began ringing in the lounge. Although the call was coming through on the family line, rather than the business phone-line, James still decided to take the call in his office as he was set to spend his night there trying to keep the suppliers firmly secured to the mob.

Once in his office, James closed the door behind him and rounded his desk. He lifted the receiver and brought it to his ear before slumping down in his leather seat. "Hello?" he casually asked, expecting it to be a family member or a friend.

"Ah, Mr. Porter. I've been waiting a long time to speak with you," the male voice at the other end of the line calmly spoke. James didn't recognise the voice and though the accent sounded local, there were undertones that set it apart from the average New York accent. It was as if laced with subtle tones of other dialects. Perhaps not even the speaker's genuine voice. "You don't know me, but I know all about you..."

"Who is this?" James wasted no time in asking. "How did you get this number?"

"That's not how this call is going to play out. You're going to listen to everything I say. I know you won't hang up because you're intrigued..." he began, stopping as he chuckled at his words. "No. 'Intrigued' is an understatement. You're desperate... for answers. For anything that will help you piece together what has been happening so you can cling to your power." The man cleared his throat before continuing. "How was the show, Mr. Porter? I heard it finished with a bang. It must be very difficult for you to watch as those around you are getting hurt and in the name of your business."

"Listen to me--" James coldly began through gritted teeth.

"No, you are listening to me." The man let out a long sigh before eventually speaking up again. "I'm really glad I could get hold of you today. The 24th of July has always been a very important date to me. It's the date I found out my father had been killed. The day I had to attend the mortuary to identify his body... and his wasn't the only one. I lost three members of my family that night and it was your fault. So many people have been killed because of you and your family. Your victims' families have lost their loved ones and lived in fear because of your family's greed. I've done a lot of research. Enough to know a factory was blown up back in Dublin, killing members of the Irish Workers Union. On your word. More recently, in this very city, there was an explosion at Francesco Moretti's birthday party. The man and his entire family were wiped out. On your word."

"Those are pretty bold accusations you're making," James gruffly told him. As much as he wanted to remind the caller of who he was speaking to and make it clear he wouldn't be intimidated, the stranger was correct in that James was compelled to hear him out.

"Let's not waste time when we both know what you are, Mr. Porter." There was another long pause before the man continued to speak. "I want you to suffer. I want you to have to watch as those you love are killed and tortured around you. I want you to know how it feels to lose those you care the most about. You will attend their funerals. You will stand in front of their gravestones wishing you'd had more time with them. You and all of the others who are guilty will suffer... I bet you all cried when you learned of Arlene's death. A cold-hearted bitch who didn't hesitate to kill her enemies and showed no remorse for it. You're all mourning for a woman who earned her bloody fate." The man let out a long whistle. "As for Savannah. She won't be the first innocent harmed because of your family's mess." Taking every word in and trying to pick out any slip ups or clues, James chose to remain silent. "It's been a pleasure to finally speak to you, Mr. Porter. I'm looking forward to playing this game with you whilst watching you lose your empire. My friends and I will be in touch..." Without further word, the call ended, leaving the continuous sound of the dialling tone.

 

[Misty Gray]

Chapter 6: Digging Up the Past
Saturday 31st July 1971
...One week later...
6pm - Sunny, Dry, Warm
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The Lomax
~ Midtown, Manhattan ~
​

Savannah Callahan

Savannah had stayed at her parents' house since her ordeal the previous weekend. Her parents had been fussing over her and Emery had been making an effort to distract her whilst also being sensitive. Even though she loved the comfort and warmth her loved ones were giving her, she began to fear she'd get too caught up in it. It would be easy to fall into a position where she became too reliant on her family to protect her whilst she stayed locked away from the world's dangers. She was always proud of her mother's achievements and the woman's career, but she knew Sinead had made too many sacrifices where her young dreams had been concerned. Savannah didn't want to compromise. She felt she'd worked hard to get even where she was in her theatre and modelling careers, so she didn't want to back down during the momentum. The final straw had been the reminder of how her mother had been forced to move back home after one of her own performances was ruined by the Romanos attacking over two decades ago. Sinead had said herself it had been the moment she'd started to lose her independence and her fire. Savannah wasn't prepared to follow the same path, so last night had returned to the apartment she shared with Roxie, even if security had been heightened outside the place.

Andre had been pestering to speak with Savannah so she'd eventually agreed to a meeting. She'd demanded the meeting too place in The Lomax, feeling it was somewhere secure and public enough to make her feel comfortable. Although the still healing cut on her cheek couldn't be concealed, she'd managed to cover up the remaining bruising with make-up. She preferred to avoid looking in the mirror until the marks were gone, seeing them as a reminder of how Steve and Luke had made her suffer. She only wished she could ignore the ongoing aches and pains from their heavy handed actions.

Savannah sat at the small table in the corner of Syd's club, whilst Andre was seated directly opposite her. Her legs were crossed and her arms folded as she tried to look her manager in the eyes as he continued to speak to her. She didn't like the man, but he was a pathway towards the future she wanted, so she gave him more leeway than she cared to. "Thing is, Sav," the man went on. "The reviews for the show were all bloody great. They loved it and they all praised your performance. That shooting cost us profits on the last few shows, but we can make it all back, if you keep working with us. What I need you to do is speak to a reporter, as soon as possible. Tell her about your ordeal and let her print a story in the paper. Maybe don't put any make-up on and utilise those injuries. People love a good sob story, especially when the victim comes out of it fighting."

"Sob story? Victim?!" Savannah sat forward and placed the palms of her hands down flat on table, staring daggers through the man's skulls. "You really have no respect for anyone, do you? I'm not speaking to any reporter. All you're interested in is yourself and your profits."

"Shit. I'm sorry, love. You know I'm not good with words..." Andre said, rolling his eyes. "I'm thinking of you as well. If you don't try to turn this back around to help yourself, then you might as well give up on showbusiness now. People will be interested in your story and if you show them you're a survivor, your popularity will skyrocket. I want you to be in my next show, but that can't happen if the public is too scared to attend the theatre again because all they remember is some poor actress getting hurt. Seeing you fight this will prove to them it's safe, not to mention you'll come out of it smelling like roses. You might not like it, but you have to manipulate the press and the audience if you want to get anywhere."

"I need time to think about it," Savannah relented. She knew the man's ideas could work. Even if he was only thinking of himself, she knew it would benefit her in the process. On one hand, it felt wrong to use what had happened to her, but on the other hand, it felt right. In a way, it could feel empowering to stand up and be unafraid to show her face in public. To show the men who hurt her that she wasn't their victim.

"Good girl. I'll call you first thing Monday to arrange a meeting with the reporter," Andre told her. He stood up from his seat and sent her a warm smile. "Remember, though. Let them see the cuts and bruises. You're still pretty without the make-up."

Hearing the word "pretty" brought Savannah's thoughts back to one week ago and how Steve had used the same word. Thinking about the awful man unsettled her and hearing that word reminded her of how sickening the man had been. She practically jumped out of her seat and pointed at Andre. "Don't you call me pretty. You don't say that to me, ever." Seeing the slightly stunned expression on the older man's face, she tightened her fists before taking a deep breath to relax herself. "It's unprofessional, Andre. You're my manager and old enough to be my father. Please. Just don't do it!"

After a brief and stunned apology, Andre continued on his way and left the club. Savannah slumped back down in her seat and brought the almost empty glass to her lips. She knocked back the remainder of the cocktail before sheepishly looking around the club, relieved nobody seemed to be staring at her following her slight outburst. Still holding the empty glass in her hand, she debated whether to get another drink or to head back to her apartment.

​

Pyroclast (Syd)

Porter Family Apartment
~ Upper East Side, Manhattan ~
​

James Porter

James would be lying if he said recent events hadn't been taking their toll on him. There had been a lot going on, including the sombre affair of Bailey's funeral; a scene all too familiar with the man but never any easier. He knew Arlene's would follow, once the investigations in Connecticut allowed her body to be released.

Following the attack at the theatre and then the mysterious, threatening phonecall, he'd had to switch everything up a few gears. More security everywhere and keeping more tabs on their suppliers. Not to mention having to have more eyes and ears out around the city. He felt he owed it to Savannah to find the men who had hurt her. He would have been out to find and punish them no matter what, but having his niece make him assure her he would only fuelled him further. He had to know she felt safe and if that would come from knowing her abductors had been taken care of, then that's what he'd have to do.

He'd already spoken with Warren and his other guards following the attack, prodding for as much detail and evidence from them as he could. He'd now arranged for Peter, Aliana and Rebel to meet with him at his apartment. They'd all been present at the attack and he wanted to know if they'd managed to find any information out since. Whether it was any more memories of the night in question or information they'd managed to source over the last week. As it turned out, he'd been presented with a big clue from one of his guards earlier in the day.

Once all four of them were sat around the coffee table in the lounge area of his apartment, James initially asked them if they'd managed to find anything out or if they had any new concerns they needed to be aware of. He then moved on to put forward the information he'd had passed on to him. James reached into his inside pocket and removed a passport sized photograph before handing it directly to Peter. "Witnesses described this man as the one who'd been waiting in the getaway car outside the theatre. You saw the men close up, Pete. Is that him?" James asked. Peter would recognise the man in the photograph as the one who held a gun to Savannah's head. "His name is Luke Holland and we're most likely to find him over in Harlem. He works security at the Lawrence Hotel." James paused to think for a moment. "We need to see how much information we can drag out of him. He could lead us to who's been pulling the strings."

​

Bellz (Peter, Rebel) Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)

The Emerald Pub
~ Midtown, Manhattan ~
​

Conor Sullivan and Rachel Harris

Conor hadn't been struggling to sleep since the attack at the theatre and his niece being harmed. Everything he was trying to overcome was threatening to reach the surface again. The need to get too drunk to think about his family's problems. The urge to lash out and beat the hell out of anyone who looked at his loved ones the wrong way. That suffocating, drowning sensation that was brought on when his mind was dragged back to the night Vinnie tortured him.

On the flip-side, Conor had sought positive assistance and coping mechanisms. Spending time with Leo had proved calming to him, even when the kid was acting out. Every time he saw anything of his own hot-headed ways present themselves in the boy, Conor was quick to put a stop to it. In a way, trying to steer his son away from aggression help him to push his own impulses back. The other person who continued to proved a positive force in his desire to change was Dr, Parker. Maddox had continued to reassure Conor that it was easy to change and exploring his unresolved past traumas would pay off, with patience. Conor was being patient. On his counsellor's advice and with Aliana's wishes in mind, Conor had continued to sit out any mob business, at least until he was sure he could actually help them without getting himself locked up again. In any downtime he did have, he found himself working out in the gym and had been making good progress in getting back into the strict routines he'd kept before his time in prison.

Conor had decided to spend some time at the pub, always finding the energetic atmosphere oddly soothing. The regulars were almost always there just to have a joke around and get drunk. The only judgement they passed was the kind one would take as banter. The odd crude joke or some light-hearted mockery. Conor was craving that playful normality. Knowing he'd be around the place for a good part of the evening, Conor had asked Mitch to swing by if he got chance, so he could give the lawyer the free drinks he promised and to see how the guy was getting on since the theatre attack. He didn't doubt Mitch had been far from his comfort zone that evening.

Conor walked behind the bar and picked up the receiver of the phone before dialling through to the apartment upstairs where Ryan was temporarily residing. "Mate, you planning on getting your arse down into the bar? I need a date and you'll look good on my arm," he told him. "Plus, I thought we could have a drink and a talk. Maybe follow up on any lead you might have about your lad. Be quick, before Rachel falls in love with me. She's giving me the come to bed eyes," he teased, knowing the woman was standing within earshot. He then hung up the telephone.

"Like fuck I am, Conor!" Rachel protested. "I just wondered when you were going to get out from under my feet. You don't realise how much room you actually take up!" she said, squeezing past him as she carried a crate of bottles to the front of the bar. "Penelope, love. You want to put this lot in the fridge?" she asked her young cousin.

Conor briefly studied Penelope, noticing how young she was, especially to be working around his rowdy regulars at the pub. He trusted Rachel wouldn't let her cousin work there if she thought she couldn't handle it. "You know Braden, right? Good looking lad, ain't he?" he asked the girl, flashing a playful smirk. "I'm only messing with you. In all seriousness, you let me know if any of the blokes here give you shit. I'll sort 'em out," he assured the young woman. He was about to head back to his table near to the bar when he turned back to Rachel. "Mitch might pop in this evening. Make sure his drinks are on the house," he reminded her. He already knew Rachel had met the lawyer so she'd know who she was giving free drinks to. Conor then returned to his table and sat back down, finishing up the pint he'd left there in confidence nobody would touch it. They already knew not to even sit at his table when he was in the pub.

Rachel remained on the spot for a moment as she was reminded of the lawyer. As small smile presented itself on her face as she thought back to the man who had turned up in the pub overdressed. She was looking forward to seeing if he'd reassessed his choice of clothing this time around. Snapping out of her thoughts, she turned back to Penelope to help her load the bottles into the fridge. "The thing you need to know about Conor is that he likes to joke around. If he teases you, you'll find it's just easier to play along. If you act offended or embarrassed, he'll just do it even more."


RayPurchase (Mitch) Fletchawk (Ryan) @Fluffykitty9000 (Penelope)

Currently Active Cast: Misty Gray Bellz Pyroclast Melanin-Gxdess Fletchawk Inb4Cloaker RayPurchase Bugsy
​

 

[Pyroclast]

Chapter 6: Digging Up The Past
Saturday 31st July 1971
...One Week Later...
6pm - Sunny, Dry, Warm
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The Lomax​

Syd Porter

A loud knock on the door startled Syd awake. It sounded urgent, but he was stuck for ideas of who could possibly be outside his bedroom at this hour. When his eyes refocused, he realised he was staring at a mess of papers on a desk. The knocking came again and this time he turned towards the source. He wasn't at home at all, but in his office at The Lomax. After clearing his throat, Syd called out, "Yes?" It came out rough and a little harsh, but he was too confused about how he had got to his office to act fully normal.

Without hesitation, a heavily built man opened the door and stepped into his office. Although Syd knew the man, in his groggy state he found it a little intrusive. "Teller," he said, a slight frown still on his face as he tried to piece everything together. He had spent the night in his family's shared apartment in Manhattan, half asleep with his head hanging over the toilet bowl. Having expected his health to take a dive since changing his dose of antidepressants, he had simply put it down as a symptom of withdrawal. Then, assuming that it was nothing contagious, he had tried to go about his day despite it. At some point, he must have made it to work and passed out on his desk.

"Afternoon, Mr. Porter," Teller nodded, closing the door behind him and taking a couple of steps towards the desk. "I'm here about the procurement."

"Oh...What time is it?" Syd's eyes narrowed and he took a closer look at the papers on his desk. It was all tender documentation that hadn't been filled out yet. His eyes caught sight of his watch just as Teller read aloud the time from his own, and suddenly remembered he was supposed to be meeting Sinead and Lucy at a café back in Queens. His aunt had organised the small get together and Syd suspected that her reason for it had something to do with the distance that had grown between him and his mother. If anyone could reconcile them, he thought, it would be Sinead. So he had happily accepted, eager to give it a try. Now, unfortunately, it didn't seem so appealing. Syd dragged a hand across his face as he thought of the journey he would have to make, wiping away specks of dust from the corners of his eyes. "Sorry to waste your time, Tell, but I'm gonna need a couple more hours on this."

Teller shook his head. "I got already got a name for you, sir. Top technician, best in his field - and he's one of us. So no risk where the side business is concerned." The man winked at Syd, clearly proud of himself for finding an ideal candidate.

"Well, alright," Syd replied weakly, gathering up his papers. "I still wanna get these out to you, though, just to make it all official. But leave his details with me -" Teller enthusiastically passed him a business card. "- and I'll be in touch with both of you." He patted himself down, opening drawers in search of cigarettes. Finding nothing, Syd instead took his keys into his hand and carefully got to his feet. His head wasn't in the right place for a business meeting - all he could think about was the meeting with his mother and aunt. It may not have been the best timing, but the last thing he wanted was to let them down. He dragged his feet over to the door, gently ushering his employee towards the exit.

"You alright there, Mr. Porter?" the man asked, trying to hide his confusion. He had driven all the way from Yonkers that morning expecting a sit down meeting, not a 10 second exchange. Too polite to complain, however, he obligingly exited the room, watching as Syd locked the door behind him.

"I'm alright, Teller," he assured the man, though there was still a sheen of sweat on his forehead and it was clear he had just woken up. With a pat on the shoulder, he added, "I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for your hard work..." He left Teller standing at the top of the stairs, a little bewildered. Syd wasn't even aware of his lack of professionalism - his mind was focused only on getting to the café on time.

Jed's Coffee House​

The place was empty when he arrived, but since it was still warm out he chose a table outside, sitting to face the mild oncoming breeze. Part of him hoped they would find a reason to cancel so that he could crawl off to bed. He leaned back in his chair, his jacket draped open in a feeble attempt to alleviate his fever. There seemed to be no way for him to get comfortable - even the cigarette between his fingers, which he had managed to attain from a kind stranger, was burning away without him. It did something to ease the anxiety but the smell was making him feel sick.

"Hey, how ya doin' there, son?" A jovial old man in a dirty grey apron came waddling out of the door behind him and proceeded to set a cup of coffee down on the table. "On the house!"

While a coffee was the last thing he wanted at that moment, Syd found it easy to smile up at the man. "Hey, Jed." There was something innocent and charming about the old man's cheerful disposition. Jed was the kind of person who laughed more than he spoke and so Syd always enjoyed his company, even on a bad day. While the two didn't know each other well, the man always treated him like an old friend and seemed to remember the faces of everyone who passed through his café. Every time he came he would end up getting something 'on the house'; Jed's generosity didn't go amiss, and while Syd pretended to accept it, he had got into the habit of slipping a $20 bill into the tip jar when the man had his back turned.

As soon as Jed went back inside, Syd pushed the coffee to the opposite end of the table and shivered, his leg jumping up and down uncontrollably as though he had already drunk ten. After a quick glance down the street to check if Sinead and Lucy were arriving, Syd gave in to temptation and leaned down to rest his burning hot forehead against the cool surface of the table. He closed his eyes and blindly stubbed out his cigarette somewhere above his head. In a matter of minutes, Syd was drifting off to sleep again.

Interactions
Misty Gray Sinead
Bellz Lucy

 

[Fletchawk]

Owen Yu
Oakland Gardens, Queens​

Nearly a month, and they'd finally had a funeral for Bailey a couple of days ago before she was carted back off to Texas. For some reason, saying his goodbye to closed casket didn't really cut it when came to getting closure. Not that he'd stuck around afterwards, as he didn't own a suit, and the only person who he really wanted to talk to there was in the casket. A small morbid part of him wanted to open it up to make sure Bailey was actually in there, and it wasn't all some macabre joke that she'd cooked up and taken too far.

Some people told him that he should just focus the good memories he had of her, and to honest, it was one of the easiest things to do, but all it did was make him angry that she was gone. Gone and someone was responsible for her death. It was the reason why the last memory he had of her alive was the one that haunted him. She'd given him a shell casing to look into, and he'd found nothing, as was expected since weapons weren't his domain, but the fact that she asked him meant one or both things; that she didn't have any leads, or he'd been doing business with the people she suspected was behind it. Not that it was a narrow list to start with, but it was only thing he had to keep from blaming himself.

On the plus side, he'd been able to start running again, and while it didn't have the same feel as popping over fences and hopping rooftops, it was something. Although, he did feel guilty about starting to be active before the prescribed time to heal was up, and it wasn't long before said guilt had him in front of a house in Queens. The very house that Bailey had taken him to get patched after his unfortunate business with ESH. Going around back, he knocked the unmarked white door.


Inb4Cloaker [Doc]

 

[Misty Gray]

Sinead Callahan​

Following the attack at the theatre, Sinead hadn't been able to leave Savannah's side for the rest of the night. It pained her to see one of her children in so much pain and fear. Not only that, but she could see her own past reflecting back at her in her daughter's eyes. It terrified her to think of how close she'd come to losing her eldest daughter. In the time Savannah had stayed at the family home, Sinead had made sure the girl ate and talked to her loved ones rather than shutting herself away. The last thing Sinead wanted was for her daughter to end up as messed up as she was; starving herself and shutting herself away from the world. As the days went on, Sinead saw her daughter seemed to be taking things in her stride and not letting her trauma consume her. So, when Savannah said she wanted to return to her apartment, Sinead eventually stopped talking her into staying home where it was safe and instead focused on the fact her daughter was getting back out into the world. She could never hold her daughter back from living. Still, Sinead demanded guards were stationed outside the apartment at all times.

As well as Peter, Sinead was truly grateful to Syd and Roxie for helping her daughter. Knowing full well of the problems Syd was having with his parents, she came up with a way to repay her nephew for helping save Savannah. She arranged for Syd, Lucy and herself to meet up at a cafe in Queens so she could help get the mother and son talking again. She also intended on slipping in some positive words about Roxie, hoping to take advantage of only one half of the stubborn Porter couple being present.

Seeing as it was on her way, Lucy had agreed to pick Sinead up and drive them both to the cafe in question. When they arrived, Syd was already seated at a table outside. Sinead got out of the car and smoothed out her dress, making sure it hadn't ridden up her legs whilst she'd been seated in the vehicle. She then walked with Lucy at a fast pace, her heels clicking on the pavement as they approached Jed's Coffee House. She nudged Lucy's arm as she noticed Syd had his eyes closed, then sent her sister a mischievous smile. "Wakey wakey!" she melodically greeted her nephew, no doubt startling him in the process.

Sinead pulled out a chair at the small round table and sat herself down, looking up to Lucy and sending her a reassuring smile. Her eyes then caught the ashtray with the recently stubbed out cigarette, prompting her to slide the glass vessel away from herself and towards Syd, showing her light disapproval for the habit. "How is my sweet Syd doing today?" she asked, hoping to help Lucy and Syd open up.


Bellz (Lucy) Pyroclast (Syd)

 

[Inb4Cloaker]

Farrid Al-Assad​

Farrid’s beard had grown since his involvement in the theatre. Usually, he’d shave every week and keep it trimmed, but he was having difficulty motivating himself due to recent events. People died in the theatre, innocent people at that. He helped who he could, yet, like always, it wasn’t enough. The only reason Farrid wasn’t crushed by what he saw was because of what he witnessed years prior; ambushes weren’t uncommon. If he had to identify a single difference between the theatre and the deserts out in the east, he’d say that the theatre was much louder. The gunfire made his ears ring for hours, if not a full day, and the enclosed space only amplified the effects. Aside from that, the scenario was all too familiar.

The medic sat at a cleared off surgical table, looking sideways at various items he received in an unusually large package recently. His inventory of new gifts consisted of an unusual book, a helmet, a letter, and lastly, another flag that he had yet to open from its folded position. His offshore conversations had grown more serious, and the person he spoke to was further pushing Farrid towards a goal he had yet to disclose. Reaching over to the helmet, Assad turned it around and observed the marking on the front. Painted onto the tan, pristine headgear, was a red triangle that sat perfectly upright. It was an unusual symbol, and one he didn’t actually ever expect to see. Before he arrived in the States, he had friends who spoke a little about it, and for the first time in a while, Farrid chuckled.

“Damn, that guy actually went to college? What was his name again? Eh, something or other.” Assad said to himself, trying to recall the name of the person who his friend spoke of in the letter. Either way, whoever he was thinking about, was a part of what was to come out East. Someone that his friend instructed him to speak to sometime within the near future.

“Maybe there is something to this.” Farrid whispered to himself, as though what he was thinking could be hazardous.

A knock on the door that was opposite of him startled the medic, causing him to nearly drop his helmet. Casting a glance from what was in his hand to the white door, Farrid hastily shoved the package contents, along with the helmet, back into the box and gingerly nudged it underneath the table he was sitting at. Although the helmet was poking out slightly, it was moderately obscured under the darkness. While he didn’t expect anyone to understand anything inside it, or what it meant, he didn’t want to be questioned as to why he was receiving packages with such strange contents. Turning to face the door, he wore a white tank top that left more of his scars exposed than he was comfortable with, but all he could do was hope that whoever was visiting was someone that Assad was comfortable with. He had a run-in with Syd’s dogs before he could escape to from their grasp, and his shirt became a safety hazard for the medics nose. Along with the white tank top, he sported a pair of brown cargo pants bloused into dark tan boots, and a black watch.

Quietly stepping closer to the door, Farrid pulled the handle and exposed who was waiting on the other side. With a sigh of relief and a mixture of concern, he nodded at Owen and pushed the door open completely.

“Kifak, Yu. You didn’t get smacked down again, right?” He asked, stepping back to allow his visitor entry to the room. “Come on in, I’ll grab us a beer.” He added, not showing any sign of taking Owens age into account.

إغراءات

Mentions: None.
Interactions: Owen Fletchawk

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​

 

[Bellz]

Lucy Porter ​

Lucy wondered if this was going to work, Sinead's little plan to make peace with Syd. Staring at herself in the mirror, she placed an earring in her earlobe before securing it lightly with a backing. As much as Lucy wanted to prioritize her son, she honestly felt like there was too much going on to try and find peace. Making a small face in the mirror, she sighed before reaching for her purse that was sitting on the table in front of her.

The drive to pick up Sinead was on her way to where they were meeting today, so Lucy was quick to offer to drive. She also didn't want to be stuck without control of the situation so all around it was better with her driving rather than Sinny. Once parked at the cafe, Lucy was almost reluctant to get out of the car for a moment, dreading how this whole thing was going to turn out. The last thing she wanted was to make things worse and there was only two ways that this meeting could turn out. Fixing her outfit, she straightened out the flowing shirt she was wearing before shutting the car door behind her and locking up.

Once inside, Lucy's eyes scanned the cafe slowly before she saw her son with his eyes closed. The blonde turned her head towards her sister as she nudged her arm and the woman sent her a mischievous smile before greeting Syd in a way that was sure to wake him up. Lucy bit her lip lightly, unsure of if she could come across as teasing...which she soon deemed inappropriate before taking a seat next to her sister, playing it safe for now.

Taking in Syd's appearance, Lucy was already struggling to stay quiet. A worry-some look dawned on her face as she tilted her head to the side. Sinead asked how Syd was doing and Lucy decided it was best for her to speak up as well. "Did you order any coffee yet? It looks like that would be the best thing for you right now." Lucy turned her head to flag down someone to bring them coffee. "I'll be right back." She said before getting up rather quickly. It felt like she couldn't breathe. The woman did not want to make the situation worse and she felt like she was overstepping her son's boundaries now...

She made sure someone was bringing coffee, but Lucy had no choice but to make it back to the table. "I just ordered a whole pot." She murmured as she sat down. Silence fell between the group for a moment before Lucy cleared her throat, "Are you okay? I'm worried about you."
with: Syd Pyroclast ; Sinead Misty Gray

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Leo hadn't left his mother's side for a week now. Something she had predicted, so whenever Leo was not with Conor she had planned things for the two of them to do. Majority of it was spent in their backyard, poolside with the Charlie trio. The dog and boy were both swimming while Ali laid out in her chair, smiling at the boy's excitement. She was trying to think about other things and calm herself. Life was beginning to become stressful; from a failing marriage to almost dying on two different occasions. The only thing going right in her life was the restaurant, her mother's dress shop, and Leo. Currently, she was loving spending her time with her son. She was painfully aware that she could be taken out of his life at any given moment, therefore any time he wanted to do something with her she would drop everything. Unfortunately, this would have to end seeing as she needed to get to a meeting with James. She still felt indifferent towards him, but if it meant getting to the bottom of whoever was attacking the family than she would put that feeling to the side.

After Seana arrived at her daughter's home, Ali was finally about to leave. Before she could, Leo made her promise to come back without any new scratches or marks on her body. She gave a small chuckle and smiled at him, promising she wouldn't. With slight reluctance, she got into her car and made her way to James' apartment. On the drive over, there was a lot going on in her mind. Conor had taken her and Parker's advice, taking the bench on this one. Part of her was glad he was finally listening to reason and another upset it had taken this long. She was finding herself upset with a lot of the things he did and had done and again wondered about her marriage. If she was going to get upset with him over things like this what did that mean? Her hands gripped the leather steering wheel as she took a deep breath and sighed, reminding herself to remain level headed. She couldn't go in this meeting full of unresolved emotions otherwise she'd ruin things.

Arriving at the apartment, she knocked and waited until she was acknowledged to go inside with the others. In hand, she carried a bottle of bourbon for the group. They were definitely going to need it in this meeting, it being nothing but stressful. Once the four of them were all gathered, she grabbed and poured drinks for anyone who obliged before taking her own seat. James started everything off by letting them know who it was they were looking for and where to find him. Studying the picture, she took a mental note on what he looked like. He didn't seem familiar to her at all, which was probably a good thing. It meant she would be able to make herself known to him without him knowing who she was at all. "Well, since he likes snatching up innocent girls, why don't we snatch him up?" She said before taking a sip of her drink. "I've been trying to keep up with all the chatter from my patrons. Nothing suspicious so far, but I've told everyone to keep an eye out."
​

 

[Bellz]

Gwen Bryant ​

Gwen looked down at her tightly bandaged hand as she sat on the edge of the stage. Rehearsal was due to start any minute and people were only just beginning to file into the room. Divas. Gwen thought to herself. Only in the theater would you seem most of the cast walk in 2 minutes before rehearsal started, they were all on their own time, it seemed. The redhead was just trying to keep it together today, it had been a few days since she used any sort of drug and she was getting antsy for it. After Jason had dropped her off at home, she made a promise to herself to quit as quickly as she could. Jason didn't need to know her business and if it ever came up with the director Gwen wanted to make sure she had the evidence to back up that she wasn't using any longer. Drumming her fingers against her jeans, Gwen watched people file in one by one and some in groups. Most of the cast had been avoiding her, which she didn't take personally given the way Jason and her had been bickering.

Things had turned out for the worst with her brother's family and the Callahan's at the theater and she had been told to watch herself. Gwen wasn't one for taking that kind of warning lightly so she opted to take one of James' many guards with her to rehearsal.

Eye searched the auditorium until she saw the familiarly large man in the corner. They made eye contact before she decided it was time to sit down.
Slowly, she hoisted herself up from the edge of the stage to move down the stairs to the floor seats. Her eyes looked towards the doors again and she found herself looking for Jason, wondering if she'd finally scared him off for good, her attention was diverted to the director as she started to speak. "We will be taking it Act One Scene 4. Jason, Gwen...front and center please." Gwen gave a little sigh. She'd really been hoping that they wouldn't start out with a scene between the two of them but she guessed it was just her luck again.

Script in hand, Gwen moved to turn to the right page when the director cleared her throat and shook her head, "No scripts. We are already a month into this, we are professionals. Away with it, dear." Gwen let out another sigh but nodded her head slowly. "Alright." Not looking behind her, she tossed the script a little too aggressively out of the way. Turning her head, she watched it hit the floor and slide to stage right. Biting her lip, Gwen turned back to both the director and Jason, who took his sweet time getting onto stage before offering a small smile. "Let's do it."

Gwen moved to sit down at the vanity that was set up for the scene. Looking at herself in the mirror the woman looked to the director, who already seemed to know what she was going to ask. "Take it from before Cliff enters the dressing rooms. The line right before it." Gwen froze lightly with a look that made it clear she was reluctant to start there. "From there, Gwen." The director said firmly and the red head sighed and turned towards the mirror again. Pausing, she let the director take a seat before she started the scene, pretending to snort a long line of coke before there was a knock on the door.

Gasping lightly, Gwen looks rushed as she tries to straighten out her outfit. "Come in!" She called out and when she saw Jason, she smiled happily, "Oh Cliff”
with: Jason Pyroclast

 

[Pyroclast]

The Lomax​

Danny Vaughan

Although the nightclub generally made good business on a Sunday afternoon, Danny's shift had seemed to go much slower than usual. It was obvious when he was itching to leave because he would start messing about behind the bar, much to his coworker's annoyance. "You know what, Tanya? I think our boss has too much money on his hands," he mused, carefully balancing a sixth shot glass onto the pyramid he was building. "He can afford more bartenders than he actually needs. We're definitely overstaffed, I'm tellin' you."

Tanya, looking equally bored as she looked out onto the room with arms folded, responded, "Is that right?" Her tone was innocent as though he had just told her an interesting fact. "Maybe I'll just get my coat now, then, and call it a day. I'll see you tomorrow, Danny."

"Oh, no, don't worry, I'll go. It's my turn to take one for the team. Besides, you look like you need the extra cash -" Now with his seventh shot glass in hand, he kept his focus trained on the growing glass pyramid in front of him; when Tanya leapt forward and whipped him with a tea towel, it caused him to jolt forward and knock the whole structure over. "Shit!" Only three of the glasses survived - a few heads turned upon hearing the smashing, but the two of them were too busy laughing about it to be concerned.

"Well, at least we won't have to worry about being overstaffed when you get fired!" Tanya laughed. She didn't help him to clean up the mess he had made, but gazed up at the clock by the bar and sighed.

As soon as their coworkers came to replace them, Danny was out from behind the bar in an instant. He already had a joint in hand and was heading to the smoking area when he caught sight of someone familiar. He stopped in his tracks and gazed across the room at her for a minute. The kidnapping and mass shooting at St. James' Theatre had made front page news; 18 people had lost their lives and 40 more had been injured, many still in hospital. Having walked Savannah home once before, he knew the building in which she lived and had been tempted to pay her a visit to see if she was okay. Ultimately, however, he decided to give her space, thinking that she would no doubt be under the protection of her family. After what she had been through, he was surprised to see her out and sitting alone. His desire to get high was immediately replaced with a desire to talk to her, and so he put the joint back in his pocket and crossed the room.

"Look who it is," he gently greeted her, letting a warm smile spread across his face. He only hesitated a second before taking an empty seat at the table. "It's good to see you here, Savannah. I only got off my shift like thirty seconds ago, but if you want another drink, let me know, yeah? I'm sure you can get yours free, anyway." Danny looked away for a second before looking back at her with a more serious expression. The soft smile remained, however. "I heard about what happened," he admitted. "How're you doing?"

Misty Gray Savannah


Syd Porter

The scraping of metal against concrete drew Syd out of his light slumber with a groan. He tilted his head up and squinted at the two figures taking a seat next to him at the table. Only when his eyes adjusted to make out Sinead and his mother did he realise that he had in fact heard her voice penetrating his now rapidly fading dream. Looking between them with a slightly lost expression, it took another second or two to remember where he was and he slowly hauled himself upright. "Hi," he finally greeted them, trying to act as though he hadn't fallen asleep. His aunt slid the glass ashtray towards him; he took it in both hands and drew it even closer. Now that he was awake, he felt somehow worse than before and his irrepressible anxiety filled him with a need to toy with something. When he glanced up at his mother, he noticed her worried expression and looked away again, hoping she wouldn't bring attention to the evident sickness that he was trying so hard to push through. Twisting the ashtray in his hands, Syd took a deep breath and mustered a smile for his aunt. Just as he was about to lie to her, Lucy asked him if he had had any coffee. His stomach twisted at the thought, but she was gone before he could protest. Everything in her body language told him that she was uncomfortable and nervous, and it disheartened him to see her leave her seat even after calling the waiter over. When she was gone, Syd glanced to his aunt. His smile had all but faded. "She doesn't want to be here, does she?" he quietly asked, raising a fist to catch a bead of sweat from his forehead. Instantly he regretted his pessimistic remark and wished he could take it back; instead, he chose to redirect the conversation before anyone could get upset. "So how're you holding up, Aunt Sinead? How's... how's Savannah doing?"

Soon his mother returned to the table and everything fell silent once again. He only looked her in the eye when she asked him if he was okay, and this time when he saw the anxious look on her face he realised that she was actually concerned for him. Syd shifted in his seat. "I am," he replied, sending her a weak smile. Besides the withdrawal, it wasn't entirely a lie - he believed that changing his medication was a positive step for him and was hopeful that lowering the dosage would have a more positive - or at least, less negative - impact on his relationships. Before he could explain himself, however, the old waiter returned with a large pot of coffee for the table. The breeze sent a waft of the scent in his direction and all the colour instantly drained from his face. Without warning, Syd pushed his chair back away from the table and lurched forward, head bowed as though about to be sick. One hand gripped the table to support himself and he took a few deep, ragged breaths to help suppress the intense nausea. His head was swimming and the ground appeared to rock beneath his feet, so he closed his eyes. "Sorry," he muttered through gritted teeth. He took another deep breath as he worked out how to explain himself. "I'm fine, I'm just...I decided to come off my meds a bit. They were making me aggressive, and I don't want to hurt you again."

When he was more confident that he wasn't going to be sick, Syd carefully pulled himself up and sat back in his seat, laying a protective hand over his stomach. His eyes were watering slightly. A little embarrassed, Syd did his best to make eye contact with the two women but struggled to maintain it for more than a second at a time. "I don't want you to worry," he went on. As much as he wanted to get his message across, he had to force the words out one by one. "I - I want..." Syd glanced over to Lucy and met her eye. He hoped that she would already know what he wanted - even more, he hoped that she wanted the same thing. His eyes were still watering, and he only realised that it wasn't from the strain of almost throwing up when a tear actually fell down his face. "I want to be in your life again. I'm sorry I ever drove you away." His whole body was already shaking slightly from the fever and the anxiety, but it became even harder to subdue when he realised how much he had missed his mother. He looked towards Sinead with a strange look of uncertainty and doubt on his face as though he had confessed something he should have kept to himself. "That is what you brought us here for, right?" he asked his aunt. "This is what you all want?"

Interactions
Misty Gray Sinead
Bellz Lucy

 

[Misty Gray]

Maddox Parker​

Although Maddox had made the rare move of keeping the whole day free from work, he'd still found himself unable to switch his mind off completely. The previous day, he'd had a tough session with one of his teenage patients. The girl had been making great progress since she'd started attending his clinic a year ago. However, she'd been present at the theatre the when it was attacked a week ago. Her parents had been with her and her father was now hospitalised after being shot in the back. The teenager had not only feared for her own life that evening, but she'd be terrified for her father and had witnessed people being killed in the very room she was in. Maddox was determined to help the teenager recover, but he knew it wasn't going to be easy.

As the afternoon went on, Maddox started preparations for his evening with Ani. Knowing from his own experience how long working hours could be exhausting, he'd invited her to his apartment and offered to make dinner for them both. He figured they could both relax in a quieter atmosphere than a busy restaurant, all the while letting them get to know each other even more. Having previously struggled to find anyone he connected with, he was determined to make time for Ani. After so many dates with women he had no interest in, he'd had moments when he'd considered accepting the single life. Then, he took a risk in asking Ani out for a date and she soon changed his mind. Maddox cared greatly for the woman and he believed they could have a long future together, if he didn't somehow mess things up!

After preparing the ingredients ready to be cooked in the oven later, Maddox changed into some smart-casual clothing. Once ready, he grabbed his car keys and headed out of his apartment to pick up the woman in question. When he reached Ani's place, he got out of his car and wasted no time in making his way to the front door then knocking on it to alert the woman of his arrival. As usual, the organised man was right on time.


Bellz (Ani)

 

[Misty Gray]

Savannah Callahan​

Savannah had heard the sound of glasses breaking. It had briefly caused her to snap her head up to look towards the source of the commotion. There was no screaming or shouting, bringing her to conclude it was simply someone at the bar dropping glasses. She looked away again and gazed at the cocktail menu, not actually taking in the words printed before her eyes. She soon heard a familiar male voice greet her and she looked up from the menu to see Danny standing with a smile on his face. She very carefully place the menu back down on the table, not quite sure why she was treating it as a fragile object. When she looked forward again, Danny was sat in the seat Andre had previously been occupying. Admittedly, the present occupant was more welcomed than her manager had been.

"Hey..." she softly greeted him, her smile genuine even if it appeared strained. As he began speaking about his shift ending, her mind was briefly distracted as she remembered the mark on her face. She quickly brought her hand to her cheek, using it to cover the healing wound to conceal it from his attention. It was only a split second before she realised he'd probably already seen it and she couldn't sit with her hand on her face the whole time. She slowly moved her hand away and placed it down flat on the table. He was offering to get her a drink and she quickly nodded her head to break the awkwardness. "Yes. I... A Mojito would be good," she said, picking out the first word she saw on the menu. "Thank you," she quickly added.

Savannah caught the way Danny's expression turned more serious and she had a feeling she knew what was coming next. It had been in the news, so she wasn't even sure why she was surprised Danny would have found out about the theatre attack. She wasn't even sure why she felt embarrassed that he knew, as if she'd had any control over being kidnapped and so publicly. "I guess a lot of people heard," she said, briefly running her fingertips down the side of her empty glass. She then cleared her throat and sat up straight. "I think I'm doing okay," she said, firmly nodding her head. "I'm still here and able to walk around. Some people weren't so lucky."

After awkwardly biting her lip, she looked to Danny and took a deep breath. "I guess you now understand why I was so cautious - jumpy - that day you walked me home," she reminded him. "I've tried not to read what the papers have said. I doubt they know the half of it. I thought those men were going to kill me..." she trailed off. "But, my dad, Syd and my friend saved me. I'm so grateful to them," she said, with a soft smile.

"I'm sorry, Danny. You don't want to hear all of this," she said, folding her arms on the tabletop. As much as she was trying to relax, she couldn't stop herself from feeling so tense. "How are you? Have you called your parents lately?" she asked, trying her hardest to lighten the conversation.

Pyroclast (Danny)

 

[Bugsy]

The Lomax
Midtown, Manhattan
Keegan Lynch​

His jaw clenched and unclenched as he stood outside, finishing off the last of his cigarette before crossing the street. His blue eyes scanned the streets, watching for anyone who remotely looked at him the wrong way, or anyone from the Family.

It had been a week since the incident at the theater and word had spread quickly, lighting a fire beneath them to heighten their security around important imports and of the Porter family. The Lynch brothers had been up most of the evening, running between establishments and hospitals; at least those who made it through several rounds of drinks, in their family home discussing about the possibilities of a follow up attack. Keegan had driven a knife through the newspaper reporting the shootout, a reminder that they still had unfinished business and a bone to pick with their attackers.

Eventually, Keegan threw down the butt, putting it out with the heel of his shoe as he crossed the street and into the Lomax. Already, there were a couple of the family mulling around; with Patty jr. having arrived ahead of time and taken a seat in the background. He had only recently been relieved from his duties at the hospital, mulling around corridors and guarding the rooms in which those from the mob had occupied. Keegan met with the eyes of fellow security Warren Taylor, uttering a low greeting.

“Warren.”

He approached the bar, putting two fingers up for two Jamesons.

Misty Gray (Warren)

 

[Misty Gray]

Sinead Callahan​

Things were awkward between Lucy and Syd, to say the least. Sinead found herself awkwardly observing the two as she wondered if she had made a big mistake. She figured she would have to work out how to turn their meet-up around. Lucy soon mentioned coffee and didn't give anyone much time to respond before she rushed up to go order drinks for them. "No. Bu-- Wah--" Sinead began, but fell silent in a sweet little huff. She didn't much like coffee, but she also didn't want to get up to chase Lucy and leave Syd feeling abandoned sat on his own.

Sinead heard Syd's quiet comment about Lucy not wanting to be there. "Oh, she does. She does. It's just awkward, right? But that normal and it's okay. We all just need to break the ice and sort this whole thing out. Your mum loves you!" she reassured him. Syd then asked about her and Savannah, causing the redhead to let out a soft sigh. "Me? I'm doing okay, honey. And Savvy, well I think it's going to take a little time for her to get over the shock of what's happened. But, she's back at her own place now and determined to continue on with her life. She's braver than she gives herself credit for."

Sinead was glad when Lucy returned to the table, though hid her disappointment at confirmation they were getting a whole pot of awful coffee. She slowly nodded her head in acknowledgement. She then listened as Lucy spoke to Syd, telling him she was worried. The redhead sat back a little, letting the other two get past the barrier and begin speaking to each other. When the waiter brought the coffee out to them, Sinead sat up and very nearly put her hand up as if she was a schoolkid about to ask the teacher for permission. "Could I please get a hot chocolate with some of that squirty cream right on top? Thank you!" she politely asked the server.

As she casually sat back again, Sinead couldn't help but notice how sick Syd appeared. Then he went on to mention he'd decided to come off of his medication. "I guess that's why you look so ill... Oh, but did your therapist say that was okay?" she couldn't help but speak up to ask. She'd had many points where she'd stopped taking her own medication without her doctor's advice and it had rarely turned out well for her.

Sinead once again sat back, quietly accepting her hot chocolate and prodding at the whipped cream with her small teaspoon. Syd was apologising to Lucy and telling her he wanted to be in her life again. Sinead didn't want to interrupt them, but a small smile was fixed on her face as she was pleased her nephew was opening up. Only when he directed a question at her, did Sinead speak up again. "Yep. This is why I brought you both here. Family shouldn't be falling out like this, especially not ours. We all love and care for each other, so we have to keep showing it. Love is what makes us all stronger."


Pyroclast (Syd) Bellz (Lucy)

 

[Pyroclast]

Jason Costello

After injuring Gwen's hand, it had been Jason's first intention to take her to the hospital - but that's not what happened. Instead, as she had insisted, he had ended up taking her back home, parking right up to the gates of the mob boss's mansion in Queens. Discovering her struggles with drug addiction had made him more conscious of her well-being and he hadn't been able to shake off his concern. Yet, no matter how much he wanted to help her, approaching the mansion felt like a step too far for him. Jason knew that his walking out on her eleven years ago had hurt her and understood that the mob may well have him on some kind of blacklist, so the thought of getting too close to them still made him nervous. If he could help her now, perhaps he would have a chance at redeeming himself.

Jason entered the auditorium just as the director read out his name. Gwen was already on the stage, waiting impatiently for him. Although he could have arrived on time easily enough, he had his reasons for being late; even though he wanted to help Gwen, he hadn't worked out how best to go about it yet and so for now it seemed a good idea to minimise time spent together. "Sorry to be late," he said with a nod once he had climbed onto the stage.

The director stood with her arms folded and a weary look on her face. "I'm tearing my hair out, Jason," she sighed, pointing her finger to where she wanted him to stand. "Don't make a habit of this. I see you've left your script, at least - that's good. So you'll know we're starting on Act One Scene Four today?"

Having read the script countless times, Jason now knew it word for word. Act One Scene Four was a scene he hadn't been looking forward to rehearsing, purely because of his current situation with Gwen. Jason looked into the eyes of the red-haired woman and swallowed. "I do."

Gwen took a seat at the vanity that had been placed on the other side of the stage to him. The look on her face when the director told her where to start from gave him enough of an understanding of how she was feeling about him. Her hand was still bandaged up and it served as a reminder of the troubles they were having. Of course, it didn't hinder her ability to get into character. Even if Gwen wasn't happy to see Jason, Sally Bowles looked delighted to see Cliff Bradshaw when he entered the imaginary dressing room.

"Constantly!" he heard her say, in her bright English accent. "I used to love pretending to be someone else - someone quite mysterious and fascinating. Until one day, I grew up and realised that I was mysterious and fascinating. I'm Sally Bowles!"

Glass in hand, Gwen - as Sally - got up from the seat at her vanity dresser and walked towards him with a smile, hips swaying with intoxicated confidence. Jason stood still and simply watched as she approached him, a coy smile on his face. Then she stopped a mere two inches from him, so that she had to look up to him with her large brown eyes. Jason felt his heart begin to pound, and he wasn't sure if he was method acting or if it was coming from somewhere more real. "Happy New Year, darling..." she drew out, and reached up to kiss him.

Interactions
Bellz Gwen

 

[Misty Gray]

Warren Taylor​

Warren had found himself working longer shifts than normal, but it had been his own choice rather than his brother's. A few days ago, James had held a meeting with Warren and the other guards who had been present during the attack at the theatre. He could tell his brother was pissed off and even though the boss didn't blame anyone specifically, it was clear he was unimpressed with the security measures the team had put into place. Despite James saying nothing to suggest it, Warren felt like he was to blame for some of what had happened. Although he'd been sat exactly where the plan had intended - guarding the family seated on the front row - he wished he'd been stationed backstage. During rehearsals and the first few of Savannah's performances, that was where he'd been positioned, keeping close watch on the young woman. He knew he couldn't have protected everyone in the theatre that evening, but he at least thought he should have been there to stop Savannah from being taken.

When he learned Savannah was heading to The Lomax for a meeting, Warren didn't hesitate to drive her there, especially as he'd already been on surveillance duty outside her apartment block. He knew she didn't want a babysitter, so once she was inside the club, he left her to have her meeting in peace, though he asked the bouncers by the doors to alert him if she tried to leave the club without a chauffeur.

Having already skipped lunch, Warren ordered some bar snacks and remained seated on the bar-stool as he picked as his food. He'd noticed Andre leave the club, which did nothing but evoke a disapproving frown from Warren. Andre had been thoroughly questioned following the theatre attack. The man was deemed clean and innocent of any part in the attack. Still, Warren didn't like the man, who was clearly a sleazy, sexist prick. Were it not for Savannah's career currently relying on her manager, Warren was sure he'd have had "words" with the man by now.

Warren had returned his attention back to his food before soon being joined by his colleague, Keegan - a cousin of the late Liam and Arlene. "Evening," Warren replied to the other man's greeting. He watched as the man ordered a couple of whiskeys, then sent the man an acknowledging smile and a nod. "How's it going?" he asked, sitting up straight to give the man his full attention. "Is everything running smoothly at the hospital?" he then enquired. He'd managed to escape the attack with a few stitches after a bullet grazed his arm, but some of their colleagues hadn't been so lucky. Those who were still in hospital were being guarded should the attackers decide they wanted to try finishing the job.

Bugsy (Keegan)

 

[Bellz]

Lucy Porter ​

Lucy wanted to roll her eyes at her picky sister. Coffee would do them all some good...well, it would do her some good. The blonde took a seat just as her son moved his chair back and lurched forward, causing Lucy to gasp in surprise. "Syd!" She murmured out with concern before peering at him closely. He told them that he decided to come down off of his medication and Lucy looked all the more concerned with him, Sinead was the first to ask if his doctor had approved that and Lucy was quick to follow up with a question of her own, "Or is this your own decision? It dangerous to mess with your meds like that Syd." Of course she wanted to fix things with her son but she would always be his mother over his friend first, she would always worry about him.

Syd was struggling to maintain eye contact but Lucy stared straight at him with a steady glance, she shook her head when he said that he didn't want them to worry. His eyes found hers as he struggled to find the words, she waited patiently as he struggled. Finally, he said the words that she had been longing to hear from him and her shoulders visibly relaxed as she let out a heavy sigh. "Syd..." Lucy murmured and bit her lip lightly. Reaching her hand forward, she outstretched it to take his in her own before offering a small smile.

"This is what we all want...Especially your father and I..." Pausing a moment, it took Lucy a lot of strength to muster up her own apology. "I'm sorry for always jumping the gun on things...You...you have your own life to live and as much as I want you to succeed in everything you do, I know I can't make choices for you." She knew that Syd would make the right decisions for himself but she still couldn't shake the whole Roxie thing.

"Roxie is...great so far. The step she took with you to help Savannah was one that took me by surprise. I just want you to be careful and know that your father and I will not stop looking into her...its for your own protection. You may be an adult now Syd but parents never stop looking out for their kids, someday you will understand that devotion." Squeezing Syd's hand lightly, she offered a nervous smile. "I will stay out of the way, but if you ever need me, I'm one call away okay? I love you so much, my boy."
with: Syd Pyroclast ; Sinead Misty Gray

 

[RayPurchase]

Mitchell Van Gerwen
The Emerald

​

It was still very much light outside even at this time of day, the sun still relatively high in the sky. Mitch's office was anything but however, the blinds were pulled shut, in fact they hadn't been open in about a week now. He was slumped in his office chair, arm hanging off of the side of it limply. On the desk in front of him lay a stack of disorganised paper, and a half drunk bottle of whiskey. His eyes were closed and his chest gently rising and falling. He looked almost peaceful. Ever so slowly however the aura of calm fractured, his breathing increasing and his eyelids fluttering as his eyes rapidly flicked from side to side beneath them, his body beginning to squirm in the chair as if trying to fight some invisible creature or figure. This continued for a few moments until with a panicked yell and a thrash of limbs he awoke violently, slipping from the chair and falling to the floor with a thud. Scrambled backwards, arms and limbs flailing, his hands slipping against the polished floor until his back smacked against the wall. His eyes were darting left and right, his right hand had slipped inside his chest pocket and remained there, his fingers tight around grip of the Beretta. 3 days ago he'd bought it. He'd no longer needed to pick up the courage, it was a necessity. He hadn't slept since the evening at the theatre, every time he closed his eyes he could still hear the gunfire and dull thud of the Porter's guard's lifeless corpse hitting the ground. He'd been naive, stupid even, to think that because he went to work every day in a suit and rubbed elbows with Police Officers and Judges that he was removed from the violence of the business that he found himself in. It was frankly dumb luck that this is the first such situation he had found himself caught up in.


As he lay there against the wall, gun gripped in one hand and his other planted against the wall, his fear was being replaced by an altogether new and more powerful emotion. Disgust, disgust with himself. He was a coward. His mind still replayed the events of that night, the handgun being offered to him by James, and he just sat there with it, no clue what to do with it, and even if he had a clue no willpower to do anything with it. If someone had come through the door to the box, James and Lucy would be dead, and he would have still been sitting there with the gun limp in his hand, completely useless and most likely dead as well. He had spent the first two days locked in his study, suppressing said emotions with work and alcohol, it was on the third day that he realised that such an approach was both unsustainable and furthermore ineffective. That's what had led him to the gun store. He went for the full works, .32 Beretta. He'd gone off the proprietor's recommendation, relatively lightweight, reliable and small enough to conceal on his person. With it an armpit holster, an additional 2 clips of ammunition which he kept in his desk drawer, and (most importantly) a course of shooting lessons. He'd attended one so far. He hadn't expected to walk in with the natural talent of Wyatt Earp, and his expectations were pretty spot on, he shot like a man who had never shot a gun before. It was heavy, noisy and in his view kicked like a mule. However he was sticking with it. 2 lessons in and he hadn't seriously injured himself or anyone else, and his aim wasn't quite as shoddy as it had been during the first lesson.


He pushed himself off the floor with a grunt, and opened the office door, a stream of light stinging his eyes, he'd been in the dark for far too long. He groggily made his way out and into his bedroom, catching sight of himself in the mirror. Hair wild, suit crumpled, and eyes bloodshot, he was a goddamn mess, and not just physically. He near enough pulled himself into the shower, his clothes strewn across the floor. His eyes closed as the water cascaded onto him, letting out a deep sigh. Syd had mentioned about coming down the pub for a drink, perhaps it could be good for him, put a smile on his face, and furthermore it meant that he wouldn't have to be drinking alone. Then again it would mean leaving the house for the first time in nearly a week. He emerged from the shower and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t just stay here and wallow any longer, it was starting to become unhealthy. The Emerald had been friendly in its own way, and hell it was probably a whole lot safer than being in his apartment. Conor knew what he was doing, whilst Mitch’s doorman was in danger of keeling over if a car backfired in the street. Hell he could even try and make inroads with the locals, turn the place into a real fortress. Even better he could see Rachel again, fair enough she had been serving him, and so probably paid to be polite, but he’d quite enjoyed her company, she was funny, a good listener, and pulled a good pint. He stood in front of the mirror, taking a deep breath, he could do this…


He emerged from the cab about 20 minutes later. He’d waited up in his apartment until it had arrived out front. As he stepped out onto the street he straightened his jacket. He’d taken Rachel’s advice and dressed down, the suit had been overkill. Pair of jeans and boots, plain blackshirt and a black leather jacket. Admittedly he looked perhaps vaguely like a biker, but most importantly the jacket hid the now ever present holster quite well, which is what he was aiming for. He glanced each way before entering the pub, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see, armed gunmen, balaclava masked thugs, a car bearing down on him. The sight of the empty street did give him a measure of calm, as he walked through the doors of the Emerald.

(Mentions: Misty Gray Conor, Rachel)

 

[Pyroclast]

Danny Vaughan

As soon as Savannah put in her drinks request, Danny excused himself and entered the bar once again. Having made hundreds of Mojitos in the past, he was able to work quickly, not wanting to waste any time that could be spent in her company. Having heard endless talk about the night of the attack, he was eager to hear how she was doing in the aftermath. Soon Danny was returning to the table with her cocktail in hand, which he proceeded to place delicately on the table in front of her.

Given that she barely knew him, Danny wasn't expecting Savannah to go into detail about her traumatic experience when he asked her how she was doing. Hearing her express gratitude for getting out of it alive, however, made him see her in a new light - one of hope and optimism, of strength and will. While gazing at her as he listened, he couldn't help but notice the discolour on her cheek, evidence of the violence she had been subjected to that night. He chose not to comment on it, however, since she had obviously been trying hard to overcome her trauma already. In fact, Danny didn't say much at all, instead wanting to give her the opportunity to talk about it. When she mentioned the time he had walked her home, he was instantly reminded of her nervous behaviour and sent her a small smile of acknowledgement. He still thought about that day often, and always hoped to bump into her when he came into work.

Even though Danny himself had ended up working within circles of organised crime, he had never been able to imagine getting caught up in something so dangerous as a kidnapping. Savannah suddenly seemed extraordinarily brave to him, on a level that he couldn't place himself on. Not realising how quiet he had been, he shook his head when she apologised for offloading her troubles onto him and sent her a smile. "'Course I do," he tried to assure her. Having been raised in a community of trusted friends and family, Danny had always been encouraged to speak up when he needed to. That Savannah was willing to share with him even a small part of her experience proved that there was a spark of trust between them. "I'm a bartender, I'm used to listening to people offload whatever's on their mind. But after everything that happened...I kinda wanted to see you. So I'm glad you came in here. And I'm glad you're alright." A brief moment of silence passed over the two of them, and Danny ran a hand through his hair before leaning both of his arms on the table. It wasn't often that he felt nervous, but when it came to talking to Savannah he felt an unusual pressure to say the right thing. "You know, I actually did get to see your play." He looked up to her, hoping it wouldn't upset her further to mention it. But he couldn't keep back his smile as he thought back to her performance. "Sav, you were amazing. What you did up there on that stage..." He shook his head, unable to find the words. "You just blew my mind."

Sensing her anxiety, Danny happily went along with her change of subject, not wanting to pry into her troubles if it was making her uncomfortable. "Nah, last time I spoke to my parents was...the day I walked you home, actually," he admitted. He hoped that the low lighting in the club would do a good enough job at concealing the blush that had begun to surface on his cheeks. "We don't get to speak too often these days - you know, with the distance and everything. I know they're busy helpin' to look after a couple new kids, though. Can't imagine they'd find the time to miss me!" Although he had initially suffered from some kind of homesickness when he changed from living in a large, close-knit community to living independently, Danny had eventually managed to dive into the sleepless activity of New York City and so he didn't spend too much of his time missing his family anymore. Looking to Savannah, he asked, "Do you still keep up with people back in Ireland? Do you miss it there?"

Interactions
Misty Gray Savannah

 

[Bugsy]

Keegan Lynch​

Keegan watched the bartender as he went about pouring the Whiskey, making sure that the bloke didn’t spill a drop as he presented the two glasses to him - sliding them towards him. He let out a sigh, taking a sip of his whiskey as he pushed over the other glass towards Warren, mulling over the question that had been presented to him. “Can’t say it’s a happy occasion.” Keegan replied, going about busying himself with lighting up a cigarette.

Blue eyes flickered up to meet that of Warren’s as he inquired into the well-being of those at the hospital. They lingered there for a moment, allowing the silence to speak volumes as he took a drag of the cigarette. “The doctors and nurses are running themselves ragged between our boys. Had to encourage a couple of the nurses to get off their arses.” He replied with a non-committal shrug.

He gave a humourless scoff, rubbing the tops of his knuckles with a free hand. Many of them were busy with the general intake of patients who were not affiliated with their mob, and their mob doctor was just as equally flooded with those not able to make it to the hospital because they were too high risk so a lot of them either needed a little incentive or a well-placed and well-timed threat (for those who were more aware of what was happening than some). His family were still hurting from the death of his brother, Kevin, who had died in a firefight between the two families and Keegan was still out for blood, even if they hadn’t been wrapped up in the theater.

“You alright?” He might as well have asked, it was only polite of him to do so before he punctuated with a sip from his whiskey. Eyes flickering briefly from the amber liquid to meet with Warren before they went back again, “We’ll get the bastards. I can tell you that.” Keegan seemed to mutter to himself more than he did to bring any comfort to anyone else. Keegan shifted in his seat so he had a better view of everyone else in the Lomax. Just because he was in a place of relative safety didn't mean he could let up and simply 'have a drink' with the family.

He was always on-call, and on-the-job unless instructed otherwise.

This was his life and no one messed with that.

Tag: Misty Gray (Warren)

 

[Misty Gray]

Savannah Callahan​

Savannah gratefully accepted her cocktail from Danny and took a small drink of the alcohol through the straw. She wasn't intending on getting drunk, so despite the urge, she was only taking small drinks from the glass. Besides, she didn't think alcohol would make her feel any better and it probably wouldn't even numb the pain.

She was glad to hear he didn't mind her talking about what had happened. When he added that he'd wanted to see her, she gave a small smile before taking another drink to hide it from her face. Of all the people he likely interacted with on a daily basis, it felt like a compliment that Danny had wanted to see her. The bartender then went on to say he'd seen her performance in the play. She raised a curious eyebrow at that revelation. Although he said he would, he could very easily have just been telling her what she wanted to hear and so she hadn't intended on asking if he'd got around to seeing the show in the end. It turned out he had meant his words and for some reason that meant a lot to her. As Danny used strong words to compliment her performance, she couldn't help but cast her eyes down onto the table as she felt her cheeks turning red with embarrassment. "Oh, please..." she bashfully began. She then looked back up to him and couldn't help but smile. "Thank you. That means a lot. It's really nice to hear you liked," she assured him. Whilst she was sure her family hadn't been disappointed in her performance, not many of them had given any feedback at all. With all that had happened at the theatre, everyone had been so busy and distracted with trying to control the aftermath. She also suspected they might be afraid to bring it up at all in case it upset her to think about the attack. Deep down, she did want to know what they thought. She wanted to know if her family we proud of her and that what she wanted to do with her life made it okay that she wanted no part in the family business.

Savannah listened on as Danny told her he hadn't spoke to his parents for a few weeks. She understood why it was hard for them to keep in frequent contact with each other and he seemed happy enough with the arrangement. "I'm sure they still miss you," she softly encouraged him. From what he'd previously told her, there was no animosity between him and his parents, so she was sure they thought about their son often. She knew her parents missed her and she wasn't living very far from them. When asked about Ireland, Savannah thought for a moment and gave a non-committal shrug before addressing the question. "Not really. There's not much at all back in Ireland for me," she admitted to him. "I was home-schooled until I was 11. When I did start regular school, I was bullied for longer than I care to recall before some of my family taught me how to stick up for myself. When the bullying stopped, I made a lot of friends and when my family decided to move over here, I was really upset about leaving my schoolmates behind. But in reality, it was all just a popularity contest back in school and none of us kept in touch. My grandmother and a couple of my cousins eventually moved to London, so really there's nothing left for me to miss in Ireland."

Savannah cleared a throat, realising she might be talking too much but still appreciating it had distracted her mind for a time. "What do you do to relax, Danny? What do you do for fun?" she suddenly asked. "I'm not going to lie; I could do with a distraction right now."

Pyroclast (Danny)

 

[Misty Gray]

Rachel Harris
~ Conor Sullivan ~​

Despite the two burly bouncers standing around outside The Emerald pub, there was always something strangely laid back and comforting when entering the place, if you were familiar with the pub you were voluntarily entering. Although there were dozens of men who were clearly armed; be it with a gun or a heavy fist, it didn't feel intimidating if you were on the right side of the owner. Most knew that if one of the customers was threatened, there would be a dozen more ready to stick up for them. Being that Mitch was on the good side of Conor, the lawyer shouldn't have felt too uncomfortable entering the lively pub.

From his seat at the table, Conor looked up from his paperwork to see who had just entered the building. It took a second to recognise Mitch, having only seen the lawyer dressed in formal wear. It seemed the man was ready to collect the free drinks he'd been promised. Unlike Maddox, the lawyer was free to accept drinks and gifts from the Conor without it affecting the ex-con's parole. "Evening," he spoke up once Mitch had reached the bar and was close enough to hear him. "Now, don't you be getting too rowdy in this fine and delicate establishment," he lightly teased. Once Rachel's attention had been caught, Conor returned to looking over the plans for the refurbishment he was intending on. He glanced to his watch as he wondered how long Ryan was going to be.

Rachel broke off from restocking the bottles when she realised Mitch was standing at the bar. She made her way over to him and couldn't help but send him a smile. "Well, look who it is. Boy, am I relieved... I almost put my ball gown on tonight, but then I remembered it was another casual Saturday here," she joked, clearly in reference to the lawyer opting for more casual clothing for his second visit. She noticed something slightly different about the man, aside from the clothing. There was perhaps something slightly on edge or anxious about him. It couldn't have been caused by the pub itself as even the likes of old Larry hadn't uttered a word this time and Conor's presence was surely a reassurance more than anything else. Given that she was aware of the theatre attack and that Mitch had been present, she could only assume it had been something of a shock to him and that was still taking its toll. "You look like you could do with a few drinks. Free ones, at that!" she cheerfully suggested. "What can I get for you, Mitch?"


RayPurchase (Mitch)