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

[Bellz]

Lucy Porter ​

Lucy's head whipped around as soon as she heard James' voice and relief was clear as day on her face. She was trying to hold it together for Syd but now that her husband was here, she felt she could slip through the cracks, if only for a moment. Once he knelt beside her and slipped a comforting arm around her shoulder, Lucy shifted to move her face into his shoulder blade. Squeezing her eyes shut as he spoke, Lucy knew that they had failed Syd as parents and it was just too painful to deal with.

A small sob escaped her before she sucked in a deep breath, her jaw tightening as she tried to control her own emotions. Moving her face away, she moved back to kiss Syd's forehead before James' eyes were looking into her own. There was the question of what to do next and Lucy knew that her instincts were willing her to take her broken child home, where it was safe and comfortable for him.

Swallowing harshly, Lucy shook her head slowly, telling herself that they couldn't do that. He would have to go back to the hospital, Syd needed the help that the facility could provide him, which was more than she could give him at the moment. Shifting to kneel on her knees, Lucy stroked Syd's hair before willing him to look her in the eyes. "Syd? Do you think you can make it to the car with us?" She wondered out loud, her voice almost a whisper as she tried to be as delicate as possible.

She hadn't noticed that Jackson left but she did look around for a moment to find that the office door had been closed, giving the family some privacy so they could take care of the situation without prying eyes. Clearing her throat, Lucy's hands shook as she slowly moved away from Syd, hushing his cries as she moved into a standing position.

Looking at James, Lucy nodded her head once to him before asking, "Can you help him up?" And with the help of her husband and herself, they got Syd to his feet very slowly. Lucy went ahead of the pair and asked the staff members to close the club for the rest of the day, making sure they all headed home before bringing Syd out into the club. The staff didn't need to see Syd in the condition he was in, concealing some of his dignity.

Lucy helped James walk Syd to the car, not even bothering with her own vehicle as it was the last thing on her mind in that moment. "I'll come back for my car later." She told James before they placed Syd into the back of James' car. Lucy decided it was best to hang out with him in the back while James drove them to the hospital, so she slid in the back beside him and held him tightly, stroking his hair all the while.

"It's going to be okay, my boy. Just close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice. Your father and I are so sorry." She whispered before kissing his cheek and leaning her head against his.
with: Syd Pyroclast ; James Misty Gray

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

Any ounce of control that Syd had left was lost the moment Jackson took the gun out of his hand. After that, the feeling of Lucy's arms wrapped tightly around him was all that was holding him together. He had lost his grip entirely and was now falling, unable to make sense of anything and uncertain of when it would end. The terror infiltrating his body took away all mental and physical capacity; whilst on some level he was aware of the screams that tore from deep within him, Syd could do nothing to stop them. The disconnect, the emptiness and the lack of control were not unfamiliar to him, but they hadn't affected him to this extent since his early twenties.

Writhing in his mother's arms, Syd could feel hands stroke his face and hair, feel her affectionate kisses land on him. Usually, he couldn't stand to be touched by anyone, not even her - but this time, she was all he wanted. His trembling hands made attempts to hold onto her, but they wouldn't move properly. All he did was get blood on her clothes from the broken glass that surrounded them. She spoke to him, and even though he couldn't hear what she was saying, he latched onto the sound of her voice.

Having had nothing to drink all day besides the sip of water in Maddox's office and the swig of whiskey from his own cabinet, it wasn't long before Syd's cries grew hoarse and weak. Soon, they simmered down to shuddering, laboured breaths and convulsive sobs subdued only by his mother's secure hold. A hand squeezed his arm and he grew faintly aware of another figure kneeling beside him. The low, soothing voice belonged to his father; Syd extended a flailing arm in his direction but failed to grab onto him, his bloody hands instead seizing into claw-like fists.

After an indeterminable amount of time had passed, Lucy shifted to a kneeling position, holding him in such a way that she could look into his eyes. He hardly looked back at her, his raw, swollen eyes struggling to stay open. She asked him if he could make it to the car, but he only groaned faintly in response, not quite registering what she had said. Regardless of his answer - or lack thereof - Syd was soon handed over to James. He buried himself into his father's chest, shivering and trying to catch his breath. As limp as a rag doll but with the full weight of a grown man, the effort it took to get to his feet drained the energy from him and he leaned heavily against James' solid frame, blinded by dizziness from being upright. If he had any sense of his surroundings, Syd would have found it eerie to be inside his club at this time of day with no music playing or other staff members checked in.

By the time they had made it down the stairs and reached the car outside, Syd was so exhausted he couldn't lift a finger. Lucy held him tightly and stroke his hair as he lay sprawled across her lap on the backseat. Her voice was soothing and combined with the rumble of the engine, it wasn't long before Syd was lulled into a heavy sleep.

Interactions
Bellz Lucy
Misty Gray James

 

[Enzyme]

Jackson McCarthy​

Conor had a way of making Jackson smile like no one else. The connection he felt with the man was that of a sibling, with a strong bond that would rival any other he had ever experienced. He leaned back against the stool, resting his elbow on the wooden bar. "Right, glad the Yanks over here know how to lock up an indecent wanka'," he said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "They still got a few screws loose letting your arse out of the cage, aye?" He chuckled, rubbing his thumb against the bottom of his lip. Jackson was no stranger to jail time, and while he had never had the pleasure of being behind bars with Conor, he had no doubt Conor didn't give the Judicial system a run for it's money.

At first glance, very few would take the large, muscular bloke as a softie, but Jackson knew just how mushy the Irish crook could be. He returned the hug with a firm pat on the back, realizing how much he truly missed his old friend. "Ah, I knew you couldn't, mate. Not a lot of people could forget this heart-throb."

As Conor stepped back to look at him, Jackson leaned his wait against the bar, interlocking his fingers over his chest. "Is it ever a social call with ol' Ronin?" He closed one eye, tilting his head at the question. He adjusted himself on the stool, looking to the racks of booze behind the counter. "To be honest, I half expected this city to be on bloody fire. Don't get me mistaken, I still flew over here with the wholehearted intention of gettin' blitzed with the boys," he laughed.

Jackson spun around on the stool as Conor moved behind the bar, firmly planting his elbows on the table. "Ah, the Missus is peachy, she is. She's probably just thankful to get the flat to herself," he smiled. In reality, he had already begun to miss Blake. It had been a long time since they'd been apart over the past decade, and without his partner-in-crime, he was feeling a tad homesick. At the question of his daughter, Jackson's smile returned. "Ay' look at you bein' a propa' Uncle! That's right, she turned six back in July. Blake and I put her in karate a few months back and she's gettin' right to kick any boys arse, so I won't have to," he chuckled.

At the question of his drink, he pondered momentarily. "I'm not usually a Guinness fan, but all this Yankee shites making me feel extra patriotic, so I'll take a pint if you got it on tap." At this point, he hadn't had a drink in the past three days and would drink the iron straight from the barrels if given no alternative. "How 'bout you though, mate? How's Ali doin'? That still a thing or you sour 'bout it? He leaned over the bar, batting his lashes like Bambi.

Misty Gray (Conor)

 

[Bellz]

Gwen Bryant ​

Gwen was starving by the time dinner was ready and she eagerly sat down at the table at the small bistro table with Jason, a candle lit between them. The redhead took small bites from her plate, not noticing the way Jason was looking at her but instead moving her attention to Ruben, who was begging on the ground beside their feet. "No scraps for you." She told the cat before Jason told her that she was looking well. Gwen turned to face him and her face broke out into a gentle smile, then he started to tell her that he was worried about her and the smile began to fade.

Her cheeks grew warm as he revealed that he cared about her a lot. Mentioning rehab, Gwen knew where the conversation was going and it was something she had been all too familiar with before. Rehab was an option for her, but with it came a lot of work...Gwen just didn't feel she had the time for it. Jason went on to say that she was more important than some broadway show and this caused Gwen to narrow her eyes slightly. He had been singing a different tune before, only a few weeks ago it felt like, when they had gotten into an argument at rehearsal.

He wanted to keep her safe, but it wasn't his responsibility to do so. "Jason..." Gwen breathed out before dropping her fork on her plate gently, causing it to make light clink. Looking down at her lap, Gwen wasn't sure what to say to him. "Maybe this isn't the best time to talk about this." She mumbled, clearly embarrassed about the conversation as she moved a hand to her face, covering it slightly.

"I don't want you to worry about me." After a moment she let her hand slide down her face and fall into her lap, "Rehab would be beneficial for me but its expensive...and I just don't have it in me to ask my brother for any more money at this point. He's tired, I can see it, and I just don't want to be another burden that falls on his shoulders." Gwen looked to Jason from across the table with her big brown eyes tearing up, "Sticking to the show is what's best for me at the moment, to earn enough money so that I can get back on my feet and support myself...so I can pay off my debts. I can't stop working right now."

Gwen knew that in Jason's eyes everything she was saying was nothing more than excuses but to her it was different, more than that. She needed her pride, it was the only thing she had left to control. Moving to pick up her fork again, Gwen made a stab at one of the vegetables on her plate before slowly popping it inside of her mouth, thoughtfully chewing for a moment before saying, "Can we not talk about this right now?" Her voice was small and timid as she moved to take another bite of her food, avoiding looking at Jason as she moved the food around on her plate.
with: Jason Pyroclast

 

[Misty Gray]

Maddox Parker​

The kiss had only just ended when there was a knocking at the door. Maddox let out an irritated sigh, having wanted to spend time alone with Ani and away from prying ears. Ani's laugh drew a soft smile from Maddox. On the second knock, Ani rolled her eyes, causing him to let out quiet chuckle as he shook his head in disbelief. "Looks like you won't get to take advantage of me after all," he teased her. He couldn't help the slight blushing of his cheeks as she reached out to move some loose hair from in front of her forehead. He nodded in agreement at the suggestion of leaving the hospital to go back to his place. "That's the best idea."

Maddox accepted Ani's hand up and followed her to the door. As they both stepped out, a somewhat familiar nurse watched them, clearly embarrassed at seeing the couple leave the room together. "Good afternoon," he charmingly addressed her, flashing a smile he expected would only make the nurse feel even more awkward. To appear cagey would suggest they had something to hide, so he took the stance of silencing possible gossip by making everything seem perfectly normal and unworthy of chatter.

When they stepped outside, the sun was still shining brightly, prompting Maddox to automatically retrieve his sunglasses from his pocket and put them on to shield his eyes. Ani informed him she hadn't been outside in far too long, prompting him to stop and turn to face her. "Oh no, Ani. We can't have someone as beautiful as you staying out of the sunshine." He removed his sunglasses and delicately placed them on Ani to protect her eyes from the brightness, letting out a playful chuckle as he did. "They look better on you, darling," he decisively told her. When she mentioned taking his car, Maddox slowly nodded his head before turning in the direction of the medical center. "Of course. I'm parked up nearby."

It didn't take too long for the couple to arrive at his apartment in Harlem. When they finally reached the third floor and the door to his home, Maddox opened up and invited Ani to enter first. "So, when we run away..." he began, closing the door and locking it behind them, "we're living in bungalow, right? No fighting for on-street parking and getting into rickety old elevators," he suggested, a direct criticism of his present living arrangement.

As always, Maddox's apartment was clean and tidy. It wasn't the best apartment block nor was it in the best area of the city, but he'd made the place look good enough to pass off as being in a wealthier area. It was a place where he could truly unwind and with Ani he could be himself. He loosened his tie and unfastened the top button of his shirt, finally able to brush away the suffocating feeling he'd been experiencing since his session with Syd. For now, he could relax. He faced Ani directly, lifting his hand to remove the sunglasses from her head and run his fingertips through her hair in the process. He tossed the shades onto the kitchen counter, not really looking to see where they landed. He then looked Ani in the eyes as he placed his hands on her hips and leaned in to passionately kiss her. He brought his lips away from hers and moved his head back enough for him to observe her face. "We could relax in the lounge, or you can finish trying to have your wicked way with me in there," he suggestively told her, glancing towards the bedroom.

Bellz (Ani)

 

[Bellz]

Ani Sarraf ​

Ani was grateful for the sunglasses as Maddox placed them on her face. She chuckled as he noted that they looked better on her to which she waved a hand at him, "Oh please, these are yours. They look dashing on you." She told him before taking his hand as they headed towards the car.

Arriving at his apartment, they made their way up to the third floor where Maddox unlocked his door and allowed her to step inside. Ani felt some weight lift off of her shoulders as she stepped inside, Maddox apartment was one of her happy places. Hearing him speak up about running away, Ani turned to him with shades still on. "A bungalow sounds perfect." She commented as he took a few steps towards her. She smiled widely as he lifted the glasses off of her face, his fingertips running soothingly through her hair. She closed her eyes a moment allowing herself to take in the moment before opening them, finding Maddox staring at her.

"Wha-?" Before she could say anymore, his hands were on her hips and he kissed her so passionately that it took her breath away. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Ani pulled him close until he pulled his face from hers. Ani pulled her head back to watch him for a moment as he suggested that they could relax in the lounge or...they could head into the bedroom.

A mischievous grin formed on Ani's lips and she let out a soft laugh as she pressed her lips to his, taking his lower lip and biting it gently. After a moment, she pulled back just enough to take his hands, pulling him towards the bedroom.

***​

Ani rolled onto her stomach, propping her head up with her hands as she watched Maddox beside her. Sucking in her bottom lip, she chewed on it a moment before releasing it and letting out a content sigh, "Thank you for letting me have my wicked way with you." She murmured to him, crawling forward until she could reach up and kiss his lips before moving to lay her head on his chest.

Looking across the room at nothing in particular, Ani allowed her eyes to close. Her head was replaying their earlier conversation at the hospital keeping her quiet for a few minutes. Opening her eyes, Ani stared at the dresser in the corner of the room before speaking, "I've never entertained the idea of having a normal life. But let's entertain it now. I've always wanted a dog." she confessed allowing herself to dream with him for a moment. Things felt so perfect with Maddox, laying in his arms, she was allowed to at least dream of what they could have soon, right?

 

[Misty Gray]

Conor Sullivan​

When Jackson made his observations about the mess he'd expected New York to be in, Conor blew out a knowing, exasperated breath. "I don't know, mate. I feel like there's a whole heap of shit brewing at the moment. There's been a lot going down lately. Between kidnappings, torture and Arlie being killed, it's all starting to feel a bit personal, y'know? After what went down in Dublin and Chicago, I don't think Jimbo's gonna wanna give things time to escalate so much this time around," he explained.

Conor was pleased to hear Jackson's marriage was going well. The couple were a perfect match, as far as Conor was concerned, so if things weren't going well between them he'd assume there was no hope for most couples. He grinned as his friend pointed out he was doing well on the uncle front. "Mate, I'm the best uncle and you know it!" He smiled as he heard of how Natasha was learning karate. "I wouldn't expect any less of you to have that kid kicking arse. Someone's got to fight on your behalf as you're knocking on a bit now. Soon you'll be giving it one punch and you'll put your back out," he teased.

Conor rested his hands on the bar as he listened to Jackson's drink request. "Of course I've get Guinness on tap. What do you take me for?" he feigned offence. He retrieved a clean glass and set about pulling a pint of beer for his good friend. He then placed the drink down in front of Jackson. "A taste of home for you right there," he proudly confirmed. He briefly looked around the pub before showing a nostalgic kind of smile. "This old pub of mine is the closest thing there is to home. Once my parole's up, I'm intending on heading to Dublin for a little vacation or something. The weather's shite, but I do miss it back there," he fondly told him

When asked about Aliana, Conor stepped back around from the bar and hopped up onto the stool next to Jackson. "Ali's doing great and little Leo's spot on. I love him to bits. He's a cheeky little shit at times, but I'm often told he got that part from me," he remarked. "Truth is, Ali and I only just got back together last week. Way back in Dublin, I made that promise to her about not get myself locked up. So, when I did get arrested a few years back, she was really pissed with me for going back on my word. She was hurt and I thought I'd fucked things up good and proper. I've had a lot of making up to do, but I think we're going to be alright now. I've got my head together and stopped doing dumb shit. I just want to be with my wife and kid, and I want to do the best I can to help the family business stay strong."

Conor paused for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "But you don't need to hear all that mush, right?" he asked. "Where are you staying while you're here? More to the point, have you seen any of the others yet? Pete and Syd are gonna be stoked to see you in town," he enthused.


Enzyme (Jackson)

 

[Enzyme]

Jackson McCarthy​

Jackson happily accepted the pint, allowing Conor to slide it to him. The first gulp did it's job in settling his nerves that he hadn't even noticed were stinging. He felt a wave of relaxation flow over him as he leaned onto the bar. Being in a completely foreign setting, the familiar taste of Guinness gave him something familiar to latch onto. His eyes flickered to Conor as he mentioned visiting Ireland, nodding his head slightly. If there was anyone who'd be homesick here, it'd have to be Conor. While most of the family could adjust and blend into their settings like a chameleon, Jackson could tell Conor's heart was still in Ireland - hence the style of the Pub with the same name, a setting he could control. "You taken a look around recently, mate? Weather here's the same, I reckon. I'm pretty sure those clouds outside are the same ones from Dublin." He chuckled, taking another sip of his pint.

When Conor brought up Leo, Jackson made an audible murmur through his mouthful of beer. "Ah, lil' Leo! My, he's gotta' be a tenner now." He hadn't seen the kid in person, but had seen him in the form of a photograph. Jackson vividly remembered the lad having Ali's unique, unmistakable eyes. "If he's anything like his old man, he's probably drove Ali halfway up the wall, he has." Jackson raised his glass, tilting his head to Conor with a cheeky smile.

At the mention of Syd, Jackson's smile faltered, pondering the scene that had only happened a short while ago. The encounter with Conor had nearly removed the memory entirely, or at least pushed it to the back of his mind. "Right," he said softly, looking off to the table. His eyes then slid back to Conor, his smile reappearing, however with a weight behind the curl of his lips. "I saw Syd before I came over here. He's goin' through something I can't even begin to explain." Jackson took another gulp of the pint, the move more intense, as if to settle the nerves that were once again flaring. "Ah, I'm sure you'd know more 'bout that then I would." He shrugged his shoulders slightly, already wishing to bat the thought away, as he knew Syd was in good hands with his parents.

Misty Gray (Conor)

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Aliana Cartwright-Sullivan

For some strange reason, Aliana thought she would be able to enjoy a day out without having to worry about anything awful going on. But, the peace that she was going through the past week was never going to last and was going on long enough. After Lucy had left the two of them, shouting about Syd, her mind started racing. It wasn't comprehending anything that was going on and it was like her body was just on autopilot; due to the past of random attacks happening in her life. Her body would know what to do even if she didn't. Jumping up out of her seat to follow behind Sinead, she heard a glass drop and shatter. The wine glass that she had yet to let go of at that moment hadn't been set down and when she was grabbed by Sinead, she forgot to put it down.

Emerging outside with her friend, they had just missed Lucy getting into her car. One of the things that flowed through her mind was what if it was a trick and her friend's car was going to explode? A ploy to get her out there sooner then BANG! An explosion and the existence of Lucy ceasing. Another was just the three of them getting shot or kidnapped all together as soon as they stepped a foot outside. Anything could happen, she thought to herself, so be very aware. When none of those things happened, she felt a momentary relief. Relief that they weren't going to have to deal with Syd's attempted suicide and something bad happening to the women.

Sinead's voice brought Ali back down to reality as she looked to her friend, her eyes immediately growing wide. The other woman was crying so Ali quickly took her into her own arms in an attempt to console her. "I- I- I don't know, Sin, but I do know that Lucy obviously does, okay? She's going to find him, she's going to help him, and he's going to be okay alright?" The screeching of tires made her turn around and instinctively reach for the gun inside of her purse. She had pointed and aimed it before realizing it was her brother-in-laws. Taking a deep breath, she lowered it and let Sinead go, letting Peter console her.

Sinead answered, hysterically, to James question before she did and he immediately got into his car in the same direction as Lucy. "Maybe we should be getting back and find Conor and tell him what happened. I don't want him to be blindsided by anything; do anything Conor-esque..."





Sinead ( Misty Gray ) Peter( Bellz )

 

[Pyroclast]

Steve Kelly

During a lull in the gunfire, Chuck heard Tony begin to bark commands at him. He didn't much like the Englishman's tone; considering the two hadn't established their position over each other, it came across as disrespectful and he couldn't help but pull a face in response. Nevertheless, he knew arguing would be a waste of time, and potentially one resulting in an unnecessary death. The thunderous drill of bullets hitting the truck's exterior distracted him from Tony altogether and he ducked below the door panel, listening closely to work out the direction in which the gunfire was moving. Tony brought his hand down on Chuck's shoulder and went on to further patronise him, drawing a scowl from the man. "Just do your fuckin' job and I'll do mine, how's that?" he retorted, shoving Tony's arm away when he gave his cheek an encouraging slap. "I'll fuckin' shoot you, ya' cocky piece of shit," he muttered as he climbed into the truck, keeping low in case of bullets flying overhead.

Despite all the experience he had under his belt, the pressure of getting away fast had Chuck's hands trembling. The fight had exploded into action so suddenly that he hadn't managed to completely haul Harry's body to the passenger side after the crash and his legs were still dangling in the foot well, getting in the way of the pedals. After such a hard collision, it was a trial trying to get the truck to start. Tony began yelling at him again and, much to his annoyance, the engine awoke at the Englishman's command. While he waited for the two remaining passengers to get into position, he shoved Harry's body out of his way and gently placed his own foot on the accelerator, ready to move.


Declan detected the worry in his older brother's tone of voice - more than that, he detected a hint of weakness. He didn't have time to ask if he had been shot, but it seemed likely. Keegan had always been protective over his siblings and Declan had grown to look up to him. However, the authoritative position that he had earned himself in the family only made his concerned tone harder to hear in this situation. If Keegan's confidence ever faltered, Declan had to draw his own from elsewhere. When his older brother suggested that they push forward and make a move, Declan's eyes fell on the bag at his feet. Keegan and Warren both appeared to be wounded, and the opposing side were showering them with enough bullets to keep them sheltering behind their respective vehicles. It was time. From as safe a position as he could get himself into, Quinn continued to fire. Meanwhile, Declan reached into the bag and withdrew a grenade. The chances of getting shot if he poked his head out from behind the car were too high, but the target was wide enough that he didn't feel the need to risk his life. After a cautionary glance to make sure nobody had moved from their positions, Declan pulled the ring from the grenade and launched it to the other side of the road where the truck would be.


The explosion sent Steve flying backwards, landing several feet into a filthy alleyway. Large pieces of the truck's body were cast into the air, the roads and nearby buildings soon littered with debris. Not even giving himself time to register the shock or pain from the impact, Steve propped himself up and stared in awe at the blazing truck as it fell apart, its contents surely not salvagable. Chuck had been sitting in the drivers seat, so Steve made his assumptions instead of moving to assess the damage. As far as he was concerned, the job was well and truly over. There was nothing and no one left to save. Scanning his surroundings, Steve eventually caught sight of Tony and made eye contact with the man. Their attackers may have achieved what they had set out to do, but Steve couldn't be certain they didn't also want him and Tony dead. Without saying a word, Steve scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as they would carry him into the depths of the dark alleyway.

Interactions
Bugsy Keegan
RayPurchase Tony
Misty Gray Warren

 

[RayPurchase]

Tony Harris


​

The noise of gunfire and rounds impacting the side of the truck were near deafening. Tony waved an arm in Steve’s direction as the truck began to move, yelling above the noise.

“Keep up suppressing fire on them, all we need is 30 seconds and Chuck will…”

He wasn’t able to complete the sentence as the blast ripped through the truck. The force of the explosion sent Tony flying through the air, landing heavily on his back, thankfully the woolen balaclava absorbed most of the impact as his head cracked against the tarmac. He slowly pushed himself onto his feet. His ears ringing from the explosion. Smoke lay heavy in the air, stinging at his eyes and the back of his throat. He pulled the balaclava off and let it fall from his fingers, dropping onto the pavement. The Uzi was gone, torn from his grip in the blast and was somewhere amongst the debris. He blinked away several tears brought about by the smoke, and the truck came into view, or at least what was left of it, twisted metals and flames. The driver’s cab was crumpled and flames could be seen licking against the shattered windows. Chuck was dead no question about it, or even if by some miracle he had survived, then there was no hope for him. Tony groaned as he stood up, and clutched at his left side, another shar spasm of pain shot up as he touched it, and his hand was slick with blood as he pulled it away. A fragment of the body of the truck, ripped off the hull had pierced his side. It didn’t appear too deep, and right now removing it would just make matters a whole lot worse. With a hand clutched against it he half jogged, half stumbled towards the alleyway after Steve. The drugs were gone, half of their number was dead and they were battered and bruised. This was no longer a fight they were capable of winning, now it was a case of getting the hell out of there and live to fight another day.

Quinn looked up from his vantage point as the smoke cleared, revealing the devastation on the other side. He grinned at Declan, and gave him a slap on the shoulder.

“Bloody good throw brother, couldn’t have done it better myself”

His eyes suddenly caught movement amongst the smoke. A big bastard by the looks of it, limping away from the carnage and into an alleyway adjoining the road. Quinn got up from behind the car. It was good enough succeeding in destroying the drug transport and taking out 2 of the East Harlem/Moretti goons, but to capture one alive, that could be a font of knowledge. He lept up, ejecting the spent magazine in his pistol and inserting a fresh one, the thrill and adrenaline rush of victory coursing through his veins, he was almost smiling.

“This one’s mine, he’s injured, this’ll be child’s play. Make sure Warren and Keegan are alright, this shouldn’t take long”

He jogged up the road. Smoke still billowed from the ruined truck, the acrid stench of burning narcotics and rubber heavy in the air. Seeing no sign of the figure, he increased his pace, just as he was about to enter the alley, the wind caught a ploom of smoke, momentarily obscuring his vision for a moment, yet as it cleared the figure of Tony was suddenly standing before him in the entrance to the alley. Unable to arrest his momentum he barrelled into Tony, who caught him, pulling him into his embrace. The wind was knocked out of Quinn as he stood there locked in Tony’s embrace. There they stood for what seemed like an age. Quinn’s face caught in a mixture of confusion and shock as his fingers spasmed, dropping his handgun, not quite understanding the signals his body was sending him, the involuntary spasms, the dull ache in his stomach that appeared to be growing, and the icy cold touch spreading down his limbs despite the warmth of the flames nearby. Tony pulled him closer, his mouth hovering by his ear, but his eyes looking through the smoke at where the Porters had been firing from. As he whispered into Quinn’s ear a smile could be seen forming.

“End of the road for you I’m afraid, you Mick bastard,”

Tony took a step back, as he pulled away he twisted his right hand, the knife held in it tearing through Quinn’s stomach, Quinn was able to let out little more than a whimpering groan, collapsing onto his knees in a quite rapidly increasing pool of his own blood. And as quickly as he appeared and the smoke rolled across the alley once more, Tony was gone, like some grim spectre or portent of death.

(Interaction: Misty Gray Warren, Bugsy Keegan, Pyroclast Steve)

 

[Bugsy]

KEEGAN LYNCH​

Gunfire continued to hail over their heads as Keegan gripped his side, still willing to be in the fight. It was clear that Declan wasn't taking any chances with the condition that both him and Warren were in. He had heard the curse that had come out of the younger man's mouth, and hadn't taken it lightly. His blue eyes widened as he had seen Warren clutch his arm, starting to bleed but still fumbling around for something in the bad; a grenade. Keegan stared at Warren for what seemed like a long while, before his jaw tightened and he turned back to the task at hand.

"Shit... I can try cover you guys but..."

Keegan watched as Declan withdrew his own grenade from a bag and chuck it. A good throw by any means, as he shielded himself from the explosion that detonated around the truck, sending the body cascading into a shower of debris; some of which landing near enough to cover them in said debris. The world turned fuzzy as ringing sounded in his ears for what seemed like a good thirty seconds. Keegan had peeked over, at what remained - which was not much but two figures limping away. Though usually he would have gone straight after them, but he could turn his attention to the wounded now; to Warren and finding out the best way out of the area before the cops were called.

Declan had come sliding over, assessing the damage done to both of them. Keegan waved his brother off, looking around for Quinn. "Where the fuck's Quinn? Dec--"

"He went chasing after one of the folks from the explosion, I think--"

"By himself?!"

Keegan's eyes lit up, a frenzy of emotions catapulting through him as he looked from his brother to Warren to the alleyway that the smoke was slowly starting to dissipate from. He couldn't see much but he was already forcing himself up upon his feet, his bloodied hand staining the car window as he ordered Declan to make sure Warren remained alive as he slowly made his way over to the mouth of the alleyway. His body hurt, his ears rang but nothing seemed to register. Nothing that mattered. His mouth fell ever so slightly, then a little bit more as he finally saw it.

Finally saw his brother, Quinn, laying there.

His heart clenched as all the pain seemed to evaporate, his legs sprinting him over as his head throbbed, sliding next to his brother. He scooped his brother into his arms, holding him; rocking him some. "Quinn? Quinn...Quinn...Please, not you too. Not you. Ma--I can't go back to ma without you. Stay with me, stay the fuck with me." Keegan muttered into his brother's ear, his forehead on Quinn's as he tried to stem his bleeding. His body shook, not out of fear, not out of adrenaline but of encasing rage and sadness, his face scrunched up as he managed it the best he could. This time he couldn't. He hadn't been there for Kevin and he was too late for Quinn.

This was his fault.

He had dragged his brother into it.

"Keegan?" He could hear Declan's voice in the near distance.

He wrapped himself tightly around his brother's body, muttering the fact that Quinn would be fine over and over before his head snapped up to look in the direction of the two. He wasn't done, he wasn't going to make an empty promise; if he could save his brother, he would. "Get an ambulance.......GET A FUCKING AMBULANCE RIGHT NOW!"

Tag: Misty Gray (Warren), Pyroclast (Steve), RayPurchase (Tony)

 

[Misty Gray]

Maddox Parker​

Laid on his back on the bed, Maddox gazed ahead to the ceiling above him. For the moment, he felt human and alive. Much of that was down to the beautiful woman who was resting by his side. Feeling Ani's eyes on him, Maddox turned his head to the side so he could look at her and display a small smile. Her comment about having her wicked way with him evoked a brief chuckle from the man. "Oh..." he began, silenced when she placed a kiss on his lips. His eyes followed her as she moved to rest her head on his chest. He moved his arm behind her head and gently toyed with her hair as he took in the peaceful moment. "How could I possibly deny you, Ani?" he rhetorically asked. "Though, I think I came off pretty well from letting you take advantage of me. I certainly won't be complaining and I'll put up even less of a fight next time," he playfully admitted.

Maddox closed his eyes as he listened to Ani's next words about the kind of normal life she wanted. He hoped and wished it was a possibility, but he feared there was a lot standing in the way of them finding happiness and freedom. Still, he wished to entertain the idea too. To live a fulfilled life sounded much better than one of constantly seeking vengeance or closure. "A dog? That does sound like a nice idea," he echoed her thoughts, pausing to imagine how much he'd enjoy walks in the park with Ani and their hypothetical pet.

"So, a bungalow and a dog... Where would you like to live in this normal life of ours?" he asked her. It was all a fantasy, of that he was sure. Still, there was nothing to lose by imagining a good life and having something to look forward to. In reality, he knew he'd done some terrible things and there were more to come. He was sure even if he got to see the Porters crumble and fall, he expected Moretti wouldn't let him rush off and would squeeze everything he could out of him. Whilst he sympathised with the Italian, having some understanding of the loss he'd suffered, Maddox wondered what the man would become once he took the power from the Porters. Would he tread on the little guy just as the Porters had done back in Dublin?

"What about children, Ani? Is that something you imagine in your future?" he asked her.

Bellz (Ani)

Conor Sullivan​

Conor grinned when Jackson made his comment about Leo driving Aliana up the wall. "Ah, you're right there, mate. The kid was a little nightmare while I was locked up, so I'm making it my job to get him into line. Don't want him making the same mistakes I did, right?" he asked, his face turning more serious as he spoke. "My life's always been about this business and trying to follow in my dad's footsteps. I'm cool with that and this is something I'll always be involved in. But I'm going to push Leo to try explore a different life. Finn's a doctor; Tink and Savvy are amazing performers. Sullivan bloodline is more than just us handsome crooks," he lightly commented.

Conor noticed how Jackson had turned serious at the mention of Syd. He remained silent as he hoped his friend would continue to speak and give some explanation as to why his mood had seemed to lower. Jackson elaborated and Conor nodded in agreement. Though he was unaware Syd had tried to killed himself again, Conor was aware things were rough for his nephew at present. "Yeah, he's been going through a lot right back since poor Skye passed away. Things are especially rough at the moment," he revealed. His voice was low, so only Jackson could hear him. "He had a big argument with Luce and James last week, so that's probably weighing heavy on his mind. Not to mention him being tortured a few weeks back." Conor let out a sigh. "He's going to be a dad, though. I have every faith he's going to step up and give that baby everything it needs."

Conor chuckled as a thought came into his head. "I don't envy Pete, though. Tink's always going on about missing having little kids around the place. With Syd's baby news, she'll be getting all broody on the poor guy." Conor cocked his head to the side and raised a curious eyebrow. "You still haven't told me where you're staying. It's not at Jimbo's Palace, is it?"

Enzyme (Jackson)

 

[Pyroclast]

Jason Costello

It didn't come as a surprise to Jason when Gwen sighed and looked away from him. The subject of her drug abuse was never going to be an easy one to discuss, and given how well their date was going, it made sense that she would want to keep the mood on a high. But the two hadn't seen each other in such private circumstances in such a long time that Jason felt this was the safest place to tell her how helpless he felt about the situation.

"Why not?" he gently pushed, when she told him it wasn't a good time to talk about it. "Ye know it doesn't bring me any pleasure makin' ye talk about somethin' ye don't want to talk about, but we can't just keep on pretendin' everything's fine forever. You can be honest t'me, Gwen. It's just me." Keeping his eyes on her, he shifted his hand towards hers and lightly caressed it.

A small smile came to his face when she told him not to worry about her; there was no way that was going to happen. It seemed that she didn't understand how much he cared about her. "Okay, then - replace the word 'worry' with 'care'. I care about you, and I'm afraid I can't stop that. I just want to make sure you're gettin' support." Though he didn't want to say it aloud, what he really wanted was some hope. The way things were unfolding, it didn't look like Gwen would have much of a chance if she didn't get help soon.

Gwen went on to elaborate about why she didn't feel confident about going to rehab. "Your brother loves you, Gwen," he quietly reminded her, though he knew he wouldn't be able to change her mind so easily. It was clear that she had put a lot of thought into her options, and it saddened Jason that she had concluded that she wasn't worth her family's efforts. She looked across the table to him then, eyes brimming with tears. Jason fell quiet, her words bringing forth a deep feeling of empathy. He knew exactly how it felt to want to be self-sufficient, to not be dependent on anyone else. Having been the main provider in his household since the age of 10, he knew the pressure that she was talking about. Gwen was as stubborn and proud as he was. Even if he was able to pay off her debts for her, he had a strong feeling he would have had to pay them off without telling her. In his current financial circumstances, however, he didn't even have close to the kind of money that heroin demanded.

For once, Jason didn't know what to say. If rehab wasn't an option, then he supposed he would have to continue to watch out for her. She may not like it, but he couldn't bear the thought of her getting beaten up again, or worse. He couldn't lose her and he couldn't let Lorelei lose her, either. Jason watched in silence as she returned her attention to the meal they had made together. Her voice came out quiet when she asked to talk about something else and he nodded, a flicker of a smile appearing on his face. A few seconds passed as he reflected briefly on the outcome of their conversation. Then he got up and crouched down beside her, reaching a hand up to her face to direct her into a loving kiss. It was more than he could put into words at that moment; he didn't want to ever let her go.

Interactions
Bellz Gwen

 

[Misty Gray]

Chapter 10: Taking Stock
Tuesday 21st September 1971
...4 days later...
Morning - Overcast, Breezy, Warm
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"An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again, but one which crumbles from within - that's dead forever."

New York City Hospital
~ Midtown, Manhattan ~
​

Warren Taylor

The job four days ago hadn't exactly been a success for any party involved. Whilst the East Harlem thugs had been deprived of the expensive shipment of drugs on account of them being destroyed in the explosion, it had come at a severe cost. Quinn had been killed during the attack - stabbed to death by Tony. Another cherished member of the family had been taken away, leaving everyone shocked, but Keegan and Declan obviously most deeply affected. Backup hadn't taken long to arrive on the scene, but it had been too late for Quinn who had died in his brother's arms. Warren was found in the road, having attempted to go to Keegan's aid before collapsing in a barely conscious heap. Having lost a lot of blood, the colour had left his face but he was still alive despite the way he looked.

Warren had been driven to the hospital whilst other gang members remained on the scene to hide any incriminating evidence to protect the Porters involved. The shot man had spent hours in surgery, with his family having been prepared for the worst. Well, as prepared as James could have been considering the existing heavy toll Syd's attempted suicide and the revelation of Moretti's continued existence the same day. Whilst the surgery had gone well, it had still proved to be a waiting game.

Warren had remained under heavy sedation since the operations he'd undergone. Though he'd been awake at points and heard some of what his visitors had been saying, it had mostly been a blur until last night when James had stopped by again. Warren had still been minimally verbally responsive to his brother's words, but he started to understand everything more clearly. When it did sink in that Quinn had been killed, Warren couldn't help but feel guilty. Perhaps if he'd fought harder to get up and keep fighting, then Keegan's brother wouldn't have felt the need to. Perhaps if he hadn't been stupid enough to get shot in the first place, then he could have changed the other man's fate.

Having also overheard James and Lucy talking when they they assumed he was sleeping, Warren had learned about what Syd had done. So when he could say something to his brother, Warren told him to make sure he went and spent time with Syd instead. James couldn't help him heal any faster from his gunshot wounds, but he had some chance of helping Syd through his depression.

Conor Sullivan

Conor had been stunned to find out about Syd's suicide attempt and frustrated that his nephew wasn't permitted visitors on the psych ward. Despite the arguments with James and Lucy, Conor hadn't realised things had got so bad for Syd. Whilst he knew Maddox was bound by patient confidentiality, Conor had been surprised that the counsellor hadn't given any clues or suggestions he should be worried about his nephew. Conor had a lot of respect for Dr. Parker and couldn't deny how much he'd been helped by the man. He had never had cause to question Maddox's abilities and he trusted him, at times feeling like he was a man he'd enjoy being friends with. To know he hadn't been able to prevent Syd's decline was difficult to process. His nephew must have been truly desperate and troubled, which concerned Conor even further. If Maddox couldn't help him, then who could?

As James and Lucy hadn't yet been allowed to visit Syd, Conor knew it could be some time until he could see his nephew. Considering Syd's situation, Warren's almost death, Quinn's actual death and the revelation of Gabriel Moretti being the one behind the family's recent troubles, James was considerably stretched beyond what one man should have to struggle to handle. Conor had been trying to lift some of his brother-in-laws workload, allowing the man to try focus on his family without too much business weighing him down further.

The hospital seemed to have more cops around than usual, but they couldn't be trusted to organise a piss-up in a brewery. As such, members of the gang had been stationed at the hospital to keep an eye on things and make sure Warren had no unwanted visitors. Conor and Jackson had been working together to keep things under control during James' limited presence. Between increasing security, giving orders to the gang members, and briefing the family members, they hadn't yet had enough time to work on the offensive against the Morettis. The first priority was ensuring everyone's safety. That was why they were presently entering the hospital Warren was recovering in. They were going to drop in and see Warren, but not before assessing the ongoing security around the hospital. Moretti had made it clear to James that things were becoming personal, so they knew that meant any of their family could be considered at risk.

"I've not seen Jimbo like this before, not even back when all the shit kicked off in Dublin," Conor admitted to Jackson. "Not that I can blame him. His son and his brother are in hospital - that's pretty heavy on its own. Not to mention knowing we have some smarmy wanker fucking with us all."

Enzyme (Jackson)

Moretti's Office/Apartment
~ Murray Hill, Manhattan ~
​

Gabriel Moretti

A lot had happened recently, which was why Gabriel had called a meeting with his close associates. He'd given Alistair and Stefano a time to arrive at his apartment so they could all catch up on the progress each of them had made. Gabriel was confident they would have plenty to discuss. He'd also told Maddox to attend the meeting, though he'd arranged it so he would have a little time with the other two men before the therapist joined them.

Already sat to his side was Teddy, who Gabriel had picked up on his way to the office. He poured them both a coffee from the pot, knowing the armed guards by the door would grant their expected guests access when they arrived. "How are things going for you, Theodore?" he asked. He appreciated the man's input with the business but also considered him one of the family, given the relationship he had with Elvian and the kids. Gabriel already had a son of his own and Marcus always did him proud, but Teddy was the closest thing to a second son. "Have you and Tony been staying out of trouble?" he asked. It was meant as a dry joke in this instance. The time to evaluate the failed drugs transportation was to be discussed in the presence of Alistair.

Once Alistair and Stefano arrived, Gabriel offered them a seat on the opposite couch, along with a drink of coffee. Even for the Italian, it was too early to be bringing out the strong alcohol. "We have much to discuss this morning. Maddox will be here soon to update us on the matter of Syd Porter," he said, giving Stefano a knowing look given that the man's daughter was pregnant with the Irish rat's child. He sat up straight and adopted a stern expression as he looked back to Alistair. "Friday's delivery didn't go as expected, did it?" he asked. He then cleared his throat. "I'm sorry that you had to lose two of your good men during that whole mess." Though he was fully aware of it, he didn't think it needed mentioning how much the destroyed drugs had been worth. "I understand Tony and Steve fought back harder. They managed to kill another member of the Sullivan lot and hospitalised James Porter's brother." Gabriel briefly turned to Teddy and sent the man a smirk. "I'll move on to James Porter soon, as Theodore and I had the pleasure of meeting the man himself a few days ago. What I will tell you is that I've put out a hit on James' brother, so I doubt the man will even make it out of his hospital bed. My only regret is that the medical staff have had to waste their time on him at all."

Gabriel took a sip of coffee before sharing his focus between the two men opposite him. "Before I continue with what I know, please indulge me. Stefano, Alistair, what do you have to update Theodore and me on?"

Melanin-Gxdess (Teddy) Pyroclast (Alistair) Bellz (Stefano)

All That Jazz
~ Upper West Side, Manhattan ~
​

Savannah Callahan

Savannah had been pleased that Braden and Roxie hadn't gone off to tell her family about her relationship with Danny. It wasn't that she wanted or liked keeping secrets from them, but she just wanted some time to explore her relationship without the added pressure of her family watching them. If Danny felt intimidated by them, he had every right to and Savannah hoped her parents would see it from her perspective. Anyone would be forgiven for running a mile from the mob but she wanted Danny to stick around and hopefully soon they'd be ready to make things more public.

Twice since she'd had her panic attack, Savannah had called London to speak to her grandmother. She loved and respected all of her family, but there were times she needed to hear things from Shannon's perspective. The woman was known for being harsh and straight to the point, which the blonde felt she might benefit from at the moment. It wasn't only the woman's honesty that she needed, but also some advice about one aspect of her career. Both Shannon and Lucy were or had been models. Savannah had seen some of their past shoots and admired how confident they had been in some of their sexier pictures.

From the two calls, Savannah had been advised in no uncertain terms to learn to fight for herself, learn how to call the shots and to do whatever she dreamed of. Even though she already knew all of that, coming from her grandmother gave her more courage to actually try. In the photoshoot the previous day, Savannah had finally agreed to modelling skimpier clothing and she actually felt comfortable doing so. The main condition she'd given was that her sleazy manager was to be nowhere in sight. Things were on her terms and she felt good being in control of the session. The likes of Andre and Steve had taken away her self-confidence, talking down to her and treating her liked some pretty little object. Now, having managed her own modelling shoot and for once ditched the "princess" look, she felt empowered. Even the knowledge her parents wouldn't be overjoyed about the modelling didn't deter her. She expected they would come around to the idea. If not, maybe she'd just set Shannon onto them!

Today, Savannah was going to see her mother at the jazz club to ask for some shifts. She knew she couldn't hide away forever and hoped she'd feel comfortable playing in Sinead's club again. When she stepped out of the cab, she tipped the driver before turning to look at the building in front of her. She knew the place would be quiet in the morning, with the earlier daytime hours being mostly for customers wanting brunch or lunch rather than those wanting to knock back the drinks whilst feeling classy about it. It was also when rehearsals and general admin work took place. She knew things would be safe so early on.

Before entering the club, Savannah noticed her Auntie Aliana, who owned a restaurant just a couple of doors down. "Ali!!" she called out, beckoning her aunt over. She was someone the blonde had hoped to see soon and so took advantage of seeing her in that moment. "Hey, can we talk? In the club?" she asked her. "I need your advice about some things. I would ask my Mum but she's already got a lot going on and this is something you might be able to help me more with." Savannah awkwardly ran her fingers through her hair. "Sorry. I should be asking how you are first. Is Uncle Conor still looking after you and Leo?" she sweetly asked.

Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)

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

 

[Pyroclast]

Chapter 10: Taking Stock
Tuesday 21st September 1971
...4 days later...
Morning - Overcast, Breezy, Warm
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Hudson Psychiatric Hospital
~ Morningside Heights, Manhattan ~
​

Syd Porter

Saturday 18th September 1971

Syd Porter
Caucasian male
30 years 6 months
6'1"
169 lbs
Suicide attempt - firearm

The gentle patter of morning rain against the window created an almost cosy atmosphere in the room where Syd was being assessed, but it wasn't enough to settle him. His disappointment in himself for getting sectioned again only made the rain seem bleak. At least with this being his second stay in a psychiatric hospital, it hadn't been as painful to be admitted without getting to say goodbye to his family. But he felt out of place all the same.

"Skye told me to call my mam," he slowly drew out, after taking a moment to think. "I didn't tell her what I was going to do, but she came to get me anyway."

"And Skye is?"

"My wife," he clarified with a small smile, briefly tapping his wedding ring against the table to draw attention to it. It was the only thing they had allowed him to keep when admitting him into the hospital. But his smile soon fell away, replaced by a puzzled frown. "No...She passed away when I was 21. I'm with Roxie now. We're having a baby together."

Doctor Peralta raised an eyebrow at him, making little effort to hide the assessment she was drawing up. "Congratulations..."

Syd watched as she paused to write something down. "How often does Skye talk to you?" she continued, resting her notepad against the edge of the table so that he couldn't try to read it. "Do you ever see her?"

"I don't know...Sometimes," he shrugged, his voice sounding somewhat distant. The sound of her pencil scratching on the paper was beginning to grate on him and he fidgeted in his seat, twisting the ring on his finger. "Why are you asking me about Skye?"

"You were recounting everything you remember about the build up to your suicide attempt. Her name came up, so I asked you who she was."

Syd looked away, suddenly feeling uneasy in the woman's presence. There was a steep rise in tension that continued to increase with every unsteady breath that he took. Seconds later, he slammed his palms down on the table, causing the doctor to lean back in her seat with a sigh. She had seen it all before. "I'm not telling you shite!" he spat. "I don't know you, I don't know what you're gonna do with this information...you'll just use it against me and my family!" He launched himself off his chair and began to pace. Moving with a practised level of caution, Doctor Peralta got to her feet and observed him as he raked his hands through his tousled hair.

"Why do you think I would do that?" she asked. The calm tone she had been using before now carried a hint of sternness.

"Because...because..." His mind was spinning itself into a frenzy and his breathing began to escalate. "Because fuck you, that's why!"

She began to advance towards him, closing him in against the wall. "Syd, you need to calm down, please."

"Get the fuck away from me!" he roared. Thrusting his hand forward, he grabbed the doctor by the throat and flung her against the wall. For a moment Syd was sure he wanted nothing more than to kill her, watch her turn blue until she croaked and fell limp at his feet. However, before he could cause her much harm, two large men burst through the door and grabbed hold of Syd, hauling him from the doctor and slamming his face against the table. "Don't think you can pull that same shite on me again, you sick fuck!" Syd shouted. A heavy hand kept his head pinned down, causing him to squirm and fight back. The manhandling distressed him deeply and after kicking back at them a few times, they eventually stepped back far enough that Syd could stand. His first instinct was to throw a punch their way, but his arm got caught - the guards had tied his wrists behind his back. After making a few attempts to tug himself free, the room began to spin, his vision twisting into a dizzying blur. Eventually, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell forward into the expectant arms of one of the guards. The impact jolted him awake, but his coordination had slowed significantly and it was no challenge for one guard to restrain him. Doctor Peralta cleared her throat, having mostly recovered from the asphyxiation. Still, her voice came out somewhat hoarse when she spoke. "Take him back to his room," she ordered, waving a hand towards the door. "I have a good idea of what he needs."



Tuesday 21st September

It was now four days since Syd had been hospitalised. His memory was fragmented and he wasn't sure how much of it was truly reliable, but anything he did remember he kept to himself. What he really needed was to talk to his parents, or at least someone from home that he trusted. It wasn't his first time living in a padded cell, and after a couple of days of regulated treatment he was beginning to get used to the routine. He hated the confinement, the authority, the isolation. The doctors kept reminding him that his only responsibility while he was in here was to behave well and focus on his recovery, but of course that wasn't true - not to him, at least. During each recreational period, Syd would sit alone and write down every memory that came to him, trying to piece them all together so that he could work out what he had to fix when he finally got back out into the real world. Of course, there was nothing on that paper that he could share with any nurse or doctor so he had to find ways to destroy the evidence. He wanted to visit Jackson and thank him somehow. Everything that happened since he left Maddox's office was a blur, so he still wasn't certain of where he had seen his Godfather or even whether he had really been there. But after some consideration, he decided that it wasn't impossible. He had to make sure his family was safe and that Teller wasn't letting his nightclub fall apart. He had also begun to plot the murder of his counsellor, Maddox Parker. Wherever he was, Syd was determined to find him and put a bullet between his eyes. It wasn't a very elaborate plan, but even though the antidepressants and antipsychotics he had been prescribed were making incremental improvements to his mental stability, his concentration still didn't stretch very far.

After his morning check up with the doctor, Syd was directed to the recreation room with all the other patients in his ward. It wasn't too dissimilar to his experience in the psychiatric hospital in Dublin. The patients varied greatly; some were timid and very withdrawn, others were loud and tried to talk to anyone who wandered too close. Syd kept to himself, not believing that there any point in trying to settle in. As far as he was concerned, this wasn't somewhere he was going to be staying for a long period of time. He wasn't there to make friends with anyone. Whenever his mind was switched on, Maddox Parker's face was there at the forefront, reminding him of what happened when he trusted anyone outside of the family. So, although he hated with a passion to be on his own, he made a conscious effort to minimise conversation with just about everyone.

For years, being heavily medicated on antidepressants had helped Syd to sleep through a night, but a combination of recent events and the transitional period between medications had triggered a rather intense period of night terrors. The screams that propelled him out of bed each night brought nurses and guards running, who then proceeded to restrain and sedate him. It ran almost like clockwork; each morning, the doctor would ask him what the nightmare was about and each time he would pretend to not remember. But the truth was, he couldn't shake them. He would come home after a long time of being away at the hospital and find his whole family slaughtered because of some information that Maddox had once retrieved from him during one of their sessions - or he would discover that he had murdered his child in an unconscious fit of rage. Whatever it was, his dreams were always vivid and deeply upsetting. It took effort to pretend not to be affected by them, but Syd wanted to appear functional so that he could get back to his family as soon as possible. Unfortunately, a lot of things were stopping him, including his physical appearance - with his trust for doctors and counsellors heavily compromised, he had convinced himself that the food was laced with drugs and so had barely eaten a thing since his arrival. On top of that, the antipsychotic medication made him physically restless, often causing him to rock in his seat. He wanted to look well and sane, but he didn't have much of a say in the matter.

Still drowsy from the sedatives, Syd settled himself into a chair in the corner of the recreation room and closed his eyes. He was just on the verge of falling asleep when the alarm sounded and one of the nurses placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Wake up," he commanded. "It's time for visitation."

Syd inhaled deeply and blinked a few times before reaching up to rub the dust from the corners of his eyes. "But I don't get visitors," he said, repeating what his doctor had recently told him. "On account of my behaviour."

"Syd, we told you yesterday that you would be getting visitors today. If you don't want to see them, we can have them sent away, but I think you'll regret it. Come on, get up."

Syd looked up at the young man and carefully got to his feet. The nurse tried to take his arm, but Syd pulled away from him and shook his head, preferring to walk unassisted.

By the time they had reached the visitation room, Syd had grown slightly nervous. It was only just occurring to him that Maddox Parker was still registered as his official counsellor and, four days after his breakdown, it would make sense that the man would be sent to check up on him. He hadn't prepared himself to see him for any reason other than to kill him, and now wasn't the time or place for that. The anxiety swelled from inside him and he felt sick all of a sudden, his heart rate increasing as the image of Maddox's menacing smile turned in his head. The nurse pulled up a chair for him at one of the tables but Syd hesitated and shook his head. "I-I don't want a visitor," he stuttered, bringing up a trembling hand to cover his eyes. "Please - please don't let him in -"

The nurse was patient, but didn't give in. "Settle down, Syd," he calmly told him. "They're already here."

Syd pulled his hand away from his face and looked over to the door, a mix of wild anticipation and fear in his eyes.

Interactions
Misty Gray James
Bellz Lucy (Roxie?)

 

[Enzyme]

Chapter 10: Taking Stock
Tuesday 21st September 1971
...4 days later...
Morning - Overcast, Breezy, Warm
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Porters​

The dense morning fog of the New York Harbor floated a few inches off the concrete, only dissipating once the teal Ford Thunderbird pushed through. The noise of the seagulls were overshadowed by the thunderous horns of cargo ships, which had begun to accumulate off the coast, drifting under the steel bridge which acted as an open door from the endless black ocean outstretching the horizon. The tinted windows of the vehicle reflected the humble fishermen and cargo technicians that occupied the thin boardwalk. The sounds of machinery soon overpowered the chatter as the Ford rolled into the Shipyard. The vehicle was momentarily cast under the dark shadow of a metallic shipping container as a monstrous crane lifted it high above the ground like an industrial claw machine.

The Ford took a sharp left, moving to a far more remote part of the murky docks. The gated area was accompanied by private security, which held a single checkpoint with a security box office. After properly identifying Mitchel, the driver, the plastic arm of the box office was lifted into the saltwater soaked air, allowing them passage into the private docks.The Ford moved into the secured loading port and drove past the massive shipping yard, filled with multi-colored metal freight containers - exclusive to the private portion of the harbor.

Before the nose of the vehicle was a single white yacht, tied to the edge of the boardwalk. The yacht rocked restlessly from the elements, bumping violently against the wood it was tied to. On top of the yacht was a relatively young man who looked to be in his mid-twenties. He wore a sailor's cap upon his sleeked-back blonde hair and held a clipboard in his closed palm. Boyd, a native Colombian, was just one of the many contracted drug runner for the Porters. The Yacht, transported off the Cape of Cali, Columbia was stocked full of Cocaine in every crevice they could fit. Boyd rested against the metal railing on the first floor of the yacht, waiting for the Porters to step out of the Ford. Accompanying him were two armed guns, sub-machine guns nestled on their shoulders by slings.

Boyd waved the clipboard towards the vehicle, greeting them with a warm smile. "Amigos!" He called out, leaning over the metal rail. The guards moved the crates out onto the deck of the ship, preparing the transaction for the stocky trailer resting on the shore.

Bellz (Peter/Rebel) Misty Gray (Adam)

********

East Harlem​

With the sounds of the cargo ships' horns booming off the open ocean, the occupants of the tinted maroon repair van were shook awake. The van had been parked there long before the sun peaked over the once glassy horizon. Due to it's extended stay beside the edge of the shore, it avoided detection from security, who believed the maintenance van was working on the various yachts pulled on shore. Rather the inhabitants weren't practicing mechanics, but instead armed East Harlem Gang members out for revenge.

Kaladin Conroy, a young buck within the gang, rested in the passenger seat. Leaning against his knee was an SKS with a wooden body, chambered in 7.62x39. Nuzzled between his fingertips was yet another cigarette. They appeared to calm his nerves, as five others were smothered into the smoldering ash tray beside the center console. The locked metal interior was filled with perpetuating anxiety and excitement mixed with the opaque, intoxicating cigarette smoke and unbearable seething heat, creating a concoction that produced a surreal, mind-numbing atmosphere. Being trapped in such a small environment with that level of intensity was enough to make any sane man want to scatter his head on the stiff, sweat-ridden nylon seats.

They had been stuck inside the van for countless hours, with nothing but exasperating silence and the single, re-running thought that leaving the safety of the insanity-generating van could mean certain death. Their silent thoughts were shattered as the teal Ford crossed the vista. It fit the exact description they had been given. The vehicle undoubtedly held important. unsuspecting Porters and they were approaching a yacht filled with kilos of cocaine. With them in their cross-hairs, East Harlem was about to kill two birds with one stone. With the orders, however, to wait until the Porters were out of the vehicle and completing the transaction before striking, they had no choice but to linger inside the melting van.

Kaladin's sweet-riddled head snapped up from it's stiff position, reaching out to the arm rest beside him. "Finally," he spit, gripping the edges of his seat. "Let's go kill those fuckers! Let's do it now!" His bloodshot eyes narrowed on the Ford. Despite the orders they had been given, Kaladin couldn't bear another second in the van. He begged to feel the clear air in his burning lungs, enough to where the oxygen in the vehicle was becoming unbreathable. His wet, shaking hands wrapped around the nose of the SKS, as the thought the he had could die at any moment had already been beaten into his mentality over the endless, restless hours.

Pyroclast (Steve) RayPurchase (Tony)

 

[Enzyme]

Jackson McCarthy​

Jackson returned the receptionists smile with one of his own, nodding his head politely. He then thanked her for the fresh brewed, New York Special coffee, taking both of the paper cups off of the desk. Moving back down the pristine corridor, his eyes naturally cut to the boys in blue, whose presence seemed prominent throughout the entire hospital. Jackson hadn't had the pleasure of being acquainted, but from the stories he was told, they were no-nonsense enforcers and wouldn't hesitate to bust you just to make their monthly quota. As his thought process wandered, it was stopped dead in it's tracks by the eye line of a deputy, as if the man could sense his hostility. The way the officer was staring at him, Jackson felt like he had 'Mobster' tattooed on his forehead. The weight of the handgun in the back of his waistband was becoming far more discernible, so with that, he smiled to the officer and kept a steady pace to Warren's door.

"These places always crawlin' with coppas'? Aren't hospitals a downer enough without these buzzkills?" Jackson outstretched his hand, offering the paper cup of black coffee to Conor. Jackson leaned his back against the other side of Warren's door, his eyes looking out to the large glass window at the end of the hallway. Five stories had never seemed so high up, but maybe it was just the mentality of the Big Apple getting to him. He took a sip of the coffee, scrunching his face at the bitterness of it's taste. He looked down at the coffee to continue his intrigue. Despite how luxurious it appeared from the packaging, it was all just a ruse, for even the silky ebony couldn't hide the cheap savor. His eyes then drifted back up to the tall window with the revelation that the city and it's coffee were far from contrary.

His eyes shifted to Conor as he spoke, unable to contain a chuckle at the thought of their predicament. "Ah, mate, you didn't even see the worst of it back in Dublin." he shook his head, the stressful memories flickering back through his mind like a 40mm film. "If anyone deserves a break from all this shite, it's James. All this stress is gonna' have him lookin' grayer than Santa Claus before he hits 51." He took another sip of his coffee, immediately regretting his decision with a physical cringe and forcing himself to question his choices. He placed the paper cup on the brick slab, putting it as far from his reach as possible so he wouldn't subconsciously reach for it again.

As Conor brought up the point of Syd and Warren being in the hospital, Jackson let out an exasperated sigh, crossing his arms. "I tell ya', James must've been some sick fuckin' bastard in his past life." He looked back at Conor, cracking a smile to his pal. Before Conor could question his smile, he asked, "How the bloody hell are you still drinkin' that sewer water?" He smiled, shaking his head. "If I was in there and they were serving me that," He bent his thumb back, pointing to the hospital room behind them, "I'd just have you pull the plug on my sorry arse right then and there."

Misty Gray (Conor)

 

[RayPurchase]

Chaper 10: Taking Stock
Tony Harris - New York Harbour
​

The smoke was still heavy in the air, the acrid smell of burning rubber and plastic burning and stinging his nostrils and throat. He could feel the dampness of blood flowing over his hand, warm and sticky to the touch as it coated his hand.

“End of the road for you I’m afraid, you Mick bastard,”

The words stretched out before him, feeling the figure slump against him. He propped up the dead weight for a moment, before allowing the figure to fall. He stepped back, and as he did the figure came back into focus. The Sullivan thug who should have been there was gone. And she was back. As soon as he saw her he knew that this was a dream. But that gave him little comfort or respite, his breathing becoming ragged and his heartbeat rocketing. She was falling, plunging into the abyss that had inexorably formed below him, into the deep black unending depths to lie who knew where. He dropped to the ground his hand grabbing hers, enveloping the trembling frail appendage. The girl hung there, dangling into the chasm, yet there was no fear or terror, no shaking or screaming, even as the sweat pooled on Tony’s brow. Despite his attempts to pull her back up it was as if gravity was rebelling holding her in its snare, Tony was at the same time unable to pull her up and unable to let go, his bloodshot eyes locked with the formless black depths of her own, the pupils seemingly fully expanded to cover all the milky whites. Even as a deep orange glow began to grow beneath her he knew what was coming, and the futility, but still struggled to pull her free, desperately tugging and scrambling.


“COME ON!!!”


He yelled, railing against the impossibility of it all, the girl, despite not weighing more than a few stone, refusing to budge. The light, and the heat grew, the sudden onslaught of flames rushing to meet them from the depths. His mouth twisted into a scream as the hellish fire consumed the girl, and raced up her arms towards his own, her face finally displaying emotion, a hellish grin, the flames reflected in those black pits.

Tony awoke with a start, blinking rapidly. The flames were gone, but that heat still remained. Not of hellish fire, but of the stuffiness of the van that he found himself sat in. He glanced at the other figures in the back, none of them had reacted, so it appeared that the screams had been confined to his own warped psyche, best for them to remain there. 4 days had passed since the ambush, and despite the drug like rush that he had felt in the days afterwards, it had brought back the dreams, clawing their way into his mind and growing fat like maggots. As much as he could he kept them at bay, he’d had them long enough to know his coping methods, alcohol numbed him to the point where he could have a dreamless sleep, and the cocaine kept his mind wired and from lapsing into anxiety and paranoia filled pools during the day. Despite the injury he had suffered, he had reported himself fit and ready for duty by day 3, it was the idleness that was the biggest danger to him, too much time to think and to dwell. The wound thankfully hadn’t been too bad, another few inches to the left however and he would have been dealing with a punctured Liver and possibly a minor case of death. However, all he had was a glorified flesh wound, it throbbed like hell, but it was fully bandaged and healing nicely, and not enough to slow him down. He closed his eyes once more and gripped the metal frame of the L1A1 rifle that was propped between his legs, feeling the solid realness of it, the cold metal beneath his burning warmth of his hands. It brought some comfort to him, something real, something to hold onto when the borders of reality and the mind weakened. He took several deep breaths, and with his voice low so that only those close would be able to catch anything he began to muttter.

“Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,

Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;

For the temple-bells are callin', an' it's there that I would be

By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea;”

By the time the final words of the poem left his lips the fear and anxiety was gone. That boy squatting in that forsaken Korean foxhole was once more buried and Tony was back. His fingers drumming against his rifle. And his eyes staring forward unseeing. It was only as Kaladin’s voice echoed through the small open partition between the cab and the back that they came back into focus. He stood up, and hissed through the hole.

“Calm your tits Conroy, don’t need you goin’ all Clint Eastwood on us alright? We wait until the drugs and cash have been exchanged, no sense in blowing our load early,”

He stepped back away, looking at the men in the back, his squadmates. This time they had surprise on their side. The Porters had destroyed a truck of their drugs, fair enough, they’d just have to escalate and take a whole boatload.

“This is it guys, Porters have arrived, we just wait until the drugs and cash are on show, and then we take the fuckin’ lot. They don’t know we’re here, and they’re completely unsuspectin’. I’m goin’ to want to see aggression from every single one of you, they killed two of your boys out there. And are we goin’ to let them get away with this transgression, not bloody likely!”

His voice didn’t rise above a whisper, but still conveyed the anger lurking below the surface. He turned to look at Steve. The kid had done well, no question about it. He talked too bloody much, but then again Tony wasn’t exactly the gregarious type. He stuck a hand on Steve’s shoulder giving it a squeeze.

“You did good last time, but turns out the guy you hit survived. I expect better luck this time, goin’ to go out there and get me a scalp?”

(Interaction: Pyroclast Steve, Enzyme Kaladin)

 

[Misty Gray]

Conor Sullivan​

Conor had acknowledged the police officer with nothing more than a nod. It was the safe middle-ground between his usual instincts to either ignore them completely or to give them some cocky comment. Lately, his need to piss off the likes of the cops hadn't shown itself within the apparently reformed man. It simply wasn't worth the risk of being separated from Aliana and Leo again. Once out of earshot, he replied to Jackson's questions. "I ain't been in these places much lately, but it does seem like there's more of the pigs around here than usual. Probably desperate for Warren to be full of beans again so they can try questioning him. Doubt it's because they care enough to want to protect one of our lot," he remarked.

Conor accepted the coffee his friend offered to him. He took a sip from it and barely acknowledged how bad it tasted. He nodded along as Jackson spoke his own thoughts about James' time in Dublin. "Well, let's hope he lets himself have a break. It's not healthy, for him or Luce. I think she'll be going grey herself if they don't get even a bit of time to just relax." Seeing Jackson's apparent repulsion at the coffee, Conor couldn't help but grin with amusement. "Yeah, he must have gone around kicking puppies or some shit," he joked along at James' expense, knowing it would sound too crazy given the man in question's love of dogs.

Conor couldn't help but chuckle as Jackson expressed his distaste for the hot drink he was consuming. "Ahh, I've had worse. The rubbish I tasted during prison visiting hour was probably piss. And that's even compared to all the concoctions of booze I've had in my time." Mentioning alcohol reminded him of how little he'd had since getting out of jail, feeling a sense of pride that he hadn't been drunk in a long time.

Conor looked over his shoulder to the hospital room, seeing Warren appeared to be sleeping or at least resting with his eyes firmly shut. The guy looked to be both peaceful and breathing, which was exactly the way Conor had hoped to see him. As he turned back to Jackson, some movement down the corridor caught his attention, but when he focused, he couldn't see anyone approaching them. "Maybe sobriety is messing with my head, but do you ever feel like you're being watched and not by any coppers?" he asked, expecting the police were unlikely to try hiding it if they were watching them. Conor scanned the corridor to try identify if anyone was watching them.

Enzyme (Jackson)

 

[Bellz]

Chapter 10: Taking Stock
Tuesday 21st September 1971
...4 days later...
Morning - Overcast, Breezy, Warm
******************************
Finn Sullivan ​

Finn had been busy at the hospital the past four days. Today was his day off and he couldn't wait to spend it with George, even though they were watching the children. Walking into Lucy's grand kitchen, Finn took the time to make a pot of coffee for whoever was home along with himself. The kids were somewhere not too far away so Finn didn't have to worry about them as there were many eyes within and around the home to watch them if they got into trouble.

After the pot of coffee was made, Finn grabbed two cups and headed into the lounge to find George sitting reading a book, like always. Finn stood with the two mugs in the doorway of the living room and smiled fondly at his lover, taking in the beautiful sight of him. "I bet you've read that book over a million times by now." Finn commented, interrupting Georgie's reading as he walked towards the man, holding a mug out to him as he took a seat beside him.

It was hard finding peace with all of the chaos happening around them. Syd was currently in a psychiatric hospital receiving in depth care for his suicide attempt only a few days ago. Finn had been surprised at first but having heard about his falling out with James and Lucy, Finn felt it was something they all should have anticipated given his past struggles. Quinn was killed on the job and Warren was in the hospital where he had received multiple operations.

Finn knew things were tense, and that's why he was so willing to help the family out where he could, with watching the children. "Its so quiet here...compared to the last couple of days." Finn mentioned as he lifted his mug to his lips and took a tentative sip. Keegan was suppose to stop by today and visit with him and George. Finn was looking forward to offering his cousin some sort of comfort after the loss of his brother...whatever he could do to help the family.

The clock on the wall ticked and Finn stared at it as the littlest hand moved around, counting the seconds going by. Finn let out a heavy sigh as he turned to George, something clearly was on his mind. "I know things are getting a little crazy with my family...but I want to let you know that we don't have to stay here if you feel uncomfortable or even scared. Hell, I feel that way sometimes and I've been with my family since birth. Its all a little intense sometimes." Finn moved his hand to take George's giving it a soft squeeze before bringing it to his lips and placing a soft kiss upon it.

"But James and Lucy need all the help they can get right now...so...I would stay if you chose to leave. I've been thinking about it and I just can't leave my family without offering all the help I can give them. I want you to be safe, however."
with: George Misty Gray
mentions: Keegan Bugsy

Gwen Bryant ​

Gwen had arrived early at the jazz club and was meeting with the band to go over the auditions sets that she would be performing for Sinead. Though the woman knew Gwen could sing, Gwen wanted to earn her place back at the jazz club through a formal audition instead of just being welcomed back with open arms. Gwen had taken the conversation with Jason a little more seriously, having been clean for the past 4 days. She would really have to push herself to keep it up but with his encouragement and support she felt like she could do almost anything she set her mind to.

Behind the stage, Gwen stood talking to a few of the band members about how each set would go and which songs she wanted to do first along with the order of them. Once they were clear on what they would all be doing, Gwen decided to head into the audience area to see if Jason had arrived yet. She had asked him at the end of their date only a few days before if he could be with her for some support and she wasn't surprised when he eagerly agreed.

Something had changed about Jason that Gwen took notice to, though she was very apprehensive about the changes. He wanted to stick by her side, which the old her would have been over the moon about. But knowing who Jason was before was stopping her from celebrating the fact that he wanted to stay with her...what was stopping him from leaving her this time? Especially with her problems, it was like she was inviting him to run away again.

Seeing Sinead over by the bar, Gwen walked down the stage steps and headed that way, a smile forming on her thin face as she approached the fellow redhead. "I hope my brother didn't pressure you into letting me audition here again." She started off by saying, sincerely hoping that James was focusing on his own problems rather than hers at the moment. She had mentioned wanting to work at the jazz club again to him but the conversation had been short after everything that happened with poor Syd.

She worried about her nephew and sincerely hoped that he was doing alright in the mental hospital. She knew exactly how those places were...and from what she had heard, Sinny knew from experience. "Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity to audition again. Money is really tight right now, and I'm not asking my brother for any more help as he's got his hands full already. "

Looking around the bar, she nodded her head towards the familiar bar manager, Scott before turning to look at the stage where the band was getting set up to play. "I like the slower hours." She commented, seeing that there were only a few people in the club.
with: Misty Gray
mentions: Pyroclast Melanin-Gxdess

 

[Pyroclast]

Alistair Sawyer

The disaster that the delivery of drugs had turned out to be had been resting heavily on Alistair's shoulders ever since. Not only had they suffered a significant loss in profit - as well as two loyal gang members, of course - but it was a sign that the Irish Mob were finally beginning to retaliate. How they had been able to plan an ambush, Alistair did not know - anonymity was something that he, Stefano and Gabriel had agreed to maintain for the time being and aside from showing his face to Syd, Lucy and Sinead, Alistair believed he had done a spotless job. Up until four days ago, he was sure that they had the upper hand. Now he had to reevaluate the situation.

That was where the meeting with Gabriel and Stefano would come in use. The time had come to meet and discuss progress, and Alistair was eager to figure out how to move forward as a team after that unfortunate revelation. Once he had briefed the men going out to the docks and delegated jobs to keep everyone else occupied and productive, Alistair had gone to Moretti's apartment in Murray Hill. One of his men, Theodore Wycliffe, was present, and so Alistair took the time to shake the man's hand. He had never met the young man before but was certain that Gabriel wouldn't have invited him unless he was completely trustworthy.

Alistair sipped on his coffee - as fine as he would expect from a wealthy Italian - and looked across to Gabriel as he began to speak. He caught the knowing glance that the man sent to Stefano after mentioning Syd Porter and had to take a strategic sip of coffee to hide the subtle smirk that tugged at his lips. The smirk fell away, however, when the conversation turned to Friday's ambush and it surprised him to receive Gabriel's condolences. "Mm, it's a shame," he mused. His sorrowful tone of voice was less for the deaths of Harry and Chuck than it was for the larger problem at hand, but the men at the table didn't have to know that. "How the mob knew about the delivery, I can't even guess," he went on. "I think we have to stop underestimating them, now. Both Tony and Steve proved themselves that day, but the damage they caused doesn't account for what we lost. We're going to have to lay out traps before these rats get under our feet." His eyes narrowed in thought as he gazed down towards the coffee table and exhaled. "Hopefully James Porter will at least be feeling the strain, what with his brother out of action and his son...well, as you said, Maddox will know more about what's happening there. I'm afraid I've been a bit preoccupied these last few days. Point is, the moment James shows any sign of weakness, he makes it easy for us." His eyes landed on Teddy then, briefly looking the young man up and down as Gabriel mentioned meeting the mob boss and their plan to finish off his brother in the hospital. Alistair nodded, his eyes still fixed on Teddy. "Don't worry yourself over medical staff, Gabriel. Unless you're wasting Ani's time, it's no loss of ours. Tell me, then, Theodore, since you met the mob boss himself - what was your impression of him? Did you notice any cracks in his confidence that might make our job easier?"

But Gabriel wasn't ready to talk about James in depth just yet. Instead, he asked the two men for updates on their own progress. Without waiting to hear from his associate, Alistair cleared his throat. "I'll say this before Maddox joins us," he said, lowering his voice slightly as though the counsellor might be listening in somehow. "But I'm concerned about my crew. That's three men I've lost, now, since we came into war with the Irish. God knows what happened to Holland, but something tells me he didn't run away to start a new life in Brazil. Ammon is getting harder to discipline and as for Ani...well, ever since she embarked on her sweet little relationship with your counsellor, her attitude towards her work here has...declined, to say the least. Like she has something to lose." Alistair looked between the three men, his eyes consumed with darkness. "As we step further into this war, I'd like us to work more closely. We can't afford to collapse, fellas - the closer we work together, the stronger we remain. We need more communication, more men, more action. If we're going to drive these Irish fucks into the ground, our plans need to be watertight from here on out."

Interactions
Misty Gray Gabriel
Bellz Stefano
Melanin-Gxdess Teddy

 

[Misty Gray]

Sinead Callahan​

Sinead hadn't been able to think of much over the last few days, other than about Syd's suicide attempt. She couldn't imagine how any of them would have managed if he'd gone through with it. It hurt too much to try imagining it. Her nephew being committed to the hospital didn't exactly bring pleasant thoughts either. She hoped New York was better and that things in those places had improved over the last two decades. Being sectioned back in Chicago was one of the worst experiences of her life and something she still thought or dreamt about. Everything about it had felt like a nightmare at the time and now the memories were precisely that. She was not treated kindly or sensitively, so she only prayed Syd was being properly cared for now. She hoped Lucy would be able to call her with good news after visiting Syd. Sinead wanted to know he was getting better and would be released from that awful place soon.

Leaning on the bar in her daydream, Sinead let out a surprised gasp as she heard Gwen's voice address her. Placing her hand over her chest as if to contain her thumping heart, she let out a soft laugh. Scott, meanwhile, sent Gwen an apologetic smile knowing his boss had been distracted for the last couple of days. Sinead straightened her posture and stood as tall as a small woman like herself could, helped out by her high-heeled shoes. "Ohhh, of course not, honey," she replied to Gwen, placing a light hand on her arm whilst quickly shaking her head. "James just mentioned you might be looking for some work and I wanted to let you audition right away. He might be 'the boss' but he's not the boss of my club," she cheekily reminded her. "Honestly, I'm excited to have you audition. Us redheads are going to take over the world," she excitedly told her.

"Oh jeez. An army of redheaded women taking over the world? We're all doomed!" Scott remarked.

"Hey. Don't be a Gingerist, mister! I can fire you for that," Sinead jokingly berated the bar manager. She then focused back on Gwen and sent her a warm smile. "These are the best hours for getting the paperwork and planning done, but I love it most in the evening, when the music is playing loud and the place is so full of life. The way the music travels through my heart and soul. It makes me feel so alive," she gushed. "You just tell me when you're ready to start and my attention is all yours," she encouraged her.


Bellz (Gwen) Pyroclast (Jason)

 

[Misty Gray]

George Sanderson​

Hearing Finn's voice speak to him caused George to look away from his book and to the man who had addressed him. He chuckled as Finn made his comment about how often he'd read the book. "Ahh, but this is the first time I've read it since I've been in New York and now I'm beyond curious to visit Long Island for myself, if only to see how Fitzgerald's world reflects within it. Someone should make this book into a film." he suggested, placing his copy of 'The Great Gatsby' down on the coffee table. He then reached out to accept the mug from his lover. "Thanks, love. You're too kind to me," he softly told him, taking a sip of the drink.

George nodded in agreement when Finn mentioned how quiet it was. "It is strange when things are quiet in the Porter, Sullivan or Callahan households," he admitted. He let out a sigh. "It's been a pretty rough weekend all round, mate. I just hope you're coping too. You're so good at being there for everyone else, so please remember I'm here for you."

Hearing the doctor's heavy sigh caused George to immediately turn his head to look at him with a concerned expression on his face. "What's wrong?" he asked. He was surprised to hear Finn saying they didn't have to stick around during his family's stressful times. Whilst it seemed easy in theory to move, George couldn't imagine Finn doing so. The man was living close to his family and had a great job at the hospital. Could he really leave those things behind? George softly smiled as the man took his hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. He acknowledge the gesture with a gentle squeeze of his hand and a weak smile as he anticipated the rest of Finn's words.

"Finn, I'm not going anywhere. Not without you. If you need to stay here for your family, then I need to stay here too. For both of us. I don't want to go anywhere else if it means being without you. Sure, it's concerning and worrying being here at the moment, but it's worth it to be with you. I'd rather take risks and be with the man I love, than be safe and lonely." He looked Finn in the eyes and shook his head. "We're going to be alright. We've been through so much already and we're still fighting strong." He briefly glanced away before looking back to Finn with a smirk. "Besides which, I agreed to help Emery revise for her exams. I'm under the impression letting that girl down is not an option," he joked. "I might not be able to help the family business but I want to help where I can. Emery is a smart girl and I don't think she lets on or that people realise it. She has a mathematical mind and a mind for mathematics. I'm enjoying tutoring her," he explained. "I'm happy here and with you, Finn. I'm not going anywhere," he reassured him.

Bellz (Finn)

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Aliana Cartwright-Sullivan

Over the next few days, Ali struggled with not arguing with Conor about the events surrounding the Moretti's and Syd's almost suicide. She knew her husband was going to help his brother in the best and only way he knew how. But, she felt it was too early for him to be diving into everything. Of course, for argument's sake she didn't do that and just hoped he wouldn't get into any trouble; hoped he wouldn't get arrested and taken out of her and Leo's life for good. Besides worrying about that, she worried about her nephew's life. Whenever she had the chance, while the kids were all growing up, she tried to be the best aunt she could be in allowing her nieces and nephews to come to talk to her. She knew herself how hard it was talking to one's parents could be and wanted to be that escape. The fact she didn't know about her nephew or even suspected it made her feel quite shitty. It sent her on a short bender for two days before she got her shit together. Syd's attempted suicide was not her fault and it wasn't anyone else's. Instead, she blamed that therapist of his. He was supposed to be helping right? So why didn't he help prevent this disaster? It also made her apprehensive about Conor going back to see him.

Today, however, she had a lot of work to catch up on. Two days away from work actually hurt her more than anything. This was a busy time of the year at Jispy. Ali was currently making updates and renovations to her restaurant after getting tired of seeing the same old thing for the past 5 years. Plus, she had been reading the critics reviews of her place and while they were on the more tolerable side, she wanted this place to go above and beyond. She wanted something that was bright during the day; nice and airy for a friendly lunch. During the night, she wanted the lights to dim and get darker for something more intimate and romantic; dark and close for romantic dining. It took a while to get the lighting guys in there to actually pull off what she was envisioning but when they did, she could do what she needed in terms of the furniture and paint and such things.

After wrapping up for the day, she gathered her padfolio with her notes and papers inside along with her bag. "Be sure to lock up as soon as the trash guys come by, okay? I don't need to get fined so just hang out here for a while." She asked Margery, her restaurant manager. The younger woman smiled and nodded her head, her red curls bouncing as she did. "Yes ma'am! I can do that." Walking out of the door, Aliana chuckled and shook her head. "Don't call me ma'am!" Walking down the sidewalk, she hadn't taken her reading glasses off yet as she was reading some of her own paperwork. Hearing her name being called out, she looked up to see Savannah beckoning her over. Closing the padfolio case up, she gave her a hug as soon as she got close enough. "Ah! Sassy Sav. How's my favorite niece?" She asked, a wide grin on her face. Her niece let her know she wanted to ask her something, which caused her face to turn up in concern. "Sure, baby, you know you can talk to me." As she led the younger woman inside, she took a deep breath. "Oh, things are fine. These boys are driving me absolutely crazy but other than that things are okay..."






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