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

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Theodore Wycliff
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When he heard Valentina's name pass the lips of Isac, he started in on him but Marcus beat him to the punch; literally. Teddy decided to give the younger man a chance at the lying traitor while he rested his hand. There were black and blue bruising on his knuckles, a numbing pain beginning to settle in as he opened and closed his fist. They were bleeding so he used his shirt to wipe them off, adding to the blood that was already present. He was going to need a cold shower after this and made a mental note to burn his clothes once they were done here. It seemed as if they weren't going to get anywhere talking to him. Whom ever he was in cahoots with in attacking Tin, he was protecting. Whether out of fear or some need to protect this person, it didn't matter. If he didn't give them the information they were seeking, he was going to have to die. Which made him think back to when the Porters were beating him for information; information he gave up to save his life. There was a reason he did so, however, it still pissed him off to see that this piece of shit had done better than him in that department.

The sound of Marcus smashing a hammer down on Isac's hand brought him out of his thought, a slight smirk on his face. "I was gonna mess up his hand." He lifted his left one, two fingers missing before shaking his head. Granted, he wasn't with people who had done this to him but it felt nice he understood his pain. Isac went on to try and explain to them it had been the big man James Porter himself who attacked Gabe's youngest. Teddy couldn't help but pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration at his unwillingness to cooperate. Granted, he was definitely going to die but that wasn't the point. They now knew it wasn't Porter, but it would be difficult to just let someone walk around when they had attacked the family. "Porter was at the charity function, you dunce, and so were we..." With a heavy sigh, a stood up and looked to his boss before looking to Isac. "He's not gonna talk- you're not gonna talk are you Isac?" It was a rhetorical question while a shook his head.

Teddy walked behind the man's chair, taking off his restraints before walking in front of him. "All you had to do was wait. Jesus man, just wait and the Porter's were going to be taken care of properly but things weren't going your way, right?" Another rhetorical question has he raised his leg to push the mans chair over until it fell. With him on the floor, he raised his foot to his stomach and kicked him. "But you had to attack her." Teddy was now going on a tangent, his anger at Isac for not only attacking a family member, but that the family member was Valentina. He didn't understand fully his feelings for her, but it just fully added to the mixed emotions he was feeling at the moment. Grabbing at the front of his shirt, Teddy got on his knees and started punching his face. "You took advantage of her. When she was alone and vulnerable. You're a sad excuse for a man." He was pissed and luckily Isac was the enemy at the moment so he could take it all out on him. Even if he were no longer responding and his body was going limp.

Gabriel ( Misty Gray Misty Gray ) Marcus ( RayPurchase RayPurchase )
 
Peter Callahan
Peter.jpegPeter rubbed Sinead's back comfortingly before letting Aliana take over while he sat back. He winced slightly as he shifted but he wasn't going to dare bring up his wounds at a time like this, his wife already had too much to worry about. "I'll make sure to give her friends parents a call tonight to let them know we'll be by to pick her up in the morning." Peter murmured as he nodded his head at Aliana's words. As much as he wanted to get on the next flight home, he knew that it wasn't that practical and they had a lot of things to take care of. "We have plenty of family who can help us pack up this huge place." He murmured before he leaned back against the couch for a moment to think to himself.

He wanted Braden and Savannah to come back to Ireland with them but he knew how much they loved New York, they'd been here for all of their young adult lives. He knew how hard it was to continue to move back and forth from dangerous situations. They both had separate lives and friends from the family that they would miss if they left it all behind, and the last thing he wanted was for them to resent himself and Sinead for forcing them to move anywhere else.

Thinking of Emmy, he was sure she wasn't going to like the situation because she was starting to have her own life here as well...but she was still underaged and she really didn't have a choice in the matter, unfortunately. Keeping his family safe was his top priority and even though he wouldn't be able to do a ton of work back in Ireland maybe that was a good thing. He had been thinking about retirement...finally settling down and enjoying the rest of his life with Sinead and Emmy and the new baby without having to worry about what danger he was getting himself into and if he would make it back to them.

"I actually wanted to talk to you, Sinny." Peter spoke up suddenly before glancing at Aliana wondering what she was going to think of what he had to say. Conor and he were close, he'd heard about Aliana wanting to get away as well..."I think, love...I think I'm finally ready to retire." He murmured to Sinead as he moved to take her hand. "Now I know I'm not as old as Jimbo...but with the new baby on the way, I really want to enjoy my time with him or her...with you and Emmy."
with: Sinead Misty Gray Misty Gray ; Aliana Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess
 
Roxie Carriveau
Giovanni Biancardi
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Roxie was relieved to hear that her family didn't like to involve themselves in hurting other people if they didn't have to...but she wondered what exactly pushed them past that limit. Once again, Ricky reminded her that their family business was needing to be kept private which made Roxie nod her head once. Keeping things from Syd was certainly something she didn't want to do given his trust issues with her already. If he found out that she was lying to him about certain things...well, she wasn't sure if they would even make it. Maybe her Uncle was right, to save that money in case it didn't work out. As much as she wanted it to work out for the girls, there was just far too many things holding the both of them back.

The amount of baggage the pair shared was hard to carry on both of their shoulders together. Here she was talking about her father's business with her family casual as if he'd never been murdered by the father of her children, whose house they were sitting comfortably in at that moment. A pit in her stomach began to form as the pressure she was feeling from having to keep her family business secret was sinking in. The fact that she still hadn't addressed her father's murder with Syd was also starting to settle...she wondered if they would ever really work it out.

Sensing something was wrong as the silence filled the room, Giovanni cleared his throat, causing Roxie to dart her eyes to her Uncle's face, but she didn't smile or attempt to prove she was okay. "This is a lot to take in, Roxie. We don't expect you to handle this well at first...If you need anything, anything at all, you know I'm here. Ricky is too." Roxie nodded her head slowly but didn't say anything as the man smiled slightly at her.

"I just don't know how well I'm going to be able to hide things...from Syd at least." Roxie admitted to which Giovanni shifted in his seat slightly to face her more. "If he trusts you and loves you, then he will understand that what you are doing is for the best. I'm sure there are some things he doesn't tell you about his family's business." Roxie wondered if there was anything that he was keeping from her. He hadn't really gone into too much detail on where he was going for business, why he was gone today. So would he really be hypocritical and get angry with her for keeping her business under wraps? That was yet to unfold.
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"As far as Moretti goes, I'll agree to keep whatever terms he had with my father so long as he agrees to the terms you end up putting in place, Uncle. I mean, he can't have it all, can he? I don't see that as exactly fair." Roxie murmured to which her Uncle simply chuckled. "You have no idea who we are dealing with here, Roxanne. Like your cousin said, Gabriel Moretti, is not the easiest man to reason with. But as he also said, we will present our needs from a business side and although he may have something personal against you, I won't let that stand in the way of our business, okay?" Gio looked to Ricky to see if he had any more to say when Jeanie began to get fussy in her rocker while Jane was still fast asleep.

Roxie got up quickly from her chair to take the baby in her arms. "Let's say hello to your Great Uncle Gio, little one." She cooed before placing the baby in Gio's waiting arms. The man cooed to the child and rocked her gently in his large arms as Roxie moved to sit back down. "Anything else I need to know about our family? Any other secrets you have for me? Now would be the time to discuss them."
with: Ricky Misty Gray Misty Gray
 
Conor Sullivan

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Conor listened on as William spoke of what he knew about Moretti's desire for New York. He also revealed that the Italian's right-hand man had recently shown up in New Jersey. "Oh, yeah? Real charmer, that guy. Although, I suppose he'd be more the snake than the charmer," he remarked. When the man went on to say he wasn't looking for another fight, Conor briefly shook his head. "Maybe not, but you risk the fight being brought to you. Gabriel Moretti is an ambitious man. He has Miami firmly in his grasp and he's desperate to take New York now. Say he wins the war for my city... How long before he gets a boner for your neck of the woods? The fact his right-hand has already been to see you to offer their support shows you've already got enough of his attention."

When the two men stepped out of the shadows, Conor raised a curious eyebrow. When they were introduced as the Corleone's, Conor's mind did jump to his own gun sitting close to his hand, just as it had with Jackson. For the moment, he didn't give in to the temptation and instead took a deep, disappointed breath as he tried to keep his irritation in check. Hearing the suggestion the Corleones were there to make peace wasn't believable, especially with the angry look in the familiar, youngest man's eyes. Syd spoke up to question their idea of peace, pointing out the Campbells hadn't been honest with their intentions. "I'm having a hard time believing that too," Conor said, sitting up straight and fixing his eyes on the three men. "These two here..." he said, pointing at the two Corleones. "The fact they're in alliance with the Morettis doesn't sell the idea they want peace to me. You're cowards if you buy into this. Whichever way the war in New York goes, I think you'll regret this," he assured Campbell.

Enzyme Enzyme (Jackson)
Pyroclast Pyroclast (Syd)
 
Sinead Callahan

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Sinead wished Aliana could come with her and perhaps a few months ago that might have worked. Now, Conor was in charge of the family business and that meant Aliana had no choice but to stay with him in New York. It was one of the hardest decisions Sinead had had to make, coming with a lot of sacrifices including leaving family and friends behind, but she knew she couldn't cope if she stayed. All of the stress was becoming too much for her and she knew it could affect her unborn baby too. She'd been excited about her baby having Aliana's and Syd's little miracles to grow up alongside. It was sad to think she'd deprive her child of those friendships, but knowing her children were safe would always outweigh that.

It was good to hear Aliana reassure her that she was making the right decision. "We'll have to call each other all of the time and I'm sure Luce will help you, with the pregnancy and future babysitting duties," she reasoned. She nodded her head when her friend said the next day would be too soon to leave. "Oh no. We need a little time to pack everything up, say goodbye to everyone, make sure the house back in Dublin is ready..." she trailed off, nervously biting her lip. She managed the smallest smile when Aliana hugged her and made mention of Conor sleeping outside if he tried to stop them. "I would hope he'd understand, but make him sleep outside if he doesn't." She quickly wiped her eyes. As much as she tried to stay focused, she couldn't help but think of her brother and sister, realising she'd never lived in another town, let alone another city to them. It was going to be strange, that was for sure.

On any normal day, Sinead would have already been checking if Peter was okay after his job and fretting if she'd noticed he was hurt. Tonight, her mind was too clouded for fussing over him. The upset over her lost employees mixed with the anxiety about moving away had set her thoughts in overdrive. "I'm sure everyone will help. Though I smashed up my music room..." she shamefully admitted. She was sure the instruments still worked, even if now scratched or dented, but she would let Savannah kept them.

When Peter said he wanted to talk, Sinead quickly looked him in the eyes, wondering what else they might have on their plate. When he said he was ready to retire, Sinead squeezed his hand in return. it was something she'd wanted him to do a long time ago, but now he was ready for it there was no part of her rushing to celebrate or cheer his decision. She knew it was something he would have spent time thinking over and it would have been a hard decision for him, so she wanted to be respectful of that. She nodded her head and sent him a reassuring smile. "This can be a new life for us, Petey. We can devote our time to Emmy and the baby, without the stress of the family business clouding over us. I'm going to sell my remaining share of the club in Dublin," she told him. "I love my clubs, but I can't do it anymore. I want to try something new... and safer." Though the family business over in Dublin was safely under Sullivan control, Sinead still wanted to detach herself from it as much as she could and that meant no big clubs that could be targets; requiring the mob's intervention.

Sinead let out a deep breath, feeling like she'd got a handle on her nerves since having Peter and Aliana there to offload to. it didn't remove the grief she was feeling from the attack on the club the night before, but she didn't feel so helpless or alone now.

Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)
Bellz Bellz (Peter)
 
Gabriel Moretti

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Gabriel nodded along as Marcus played along with Isac for a moment, saying it made sense James Porter was one of the attackers. At least if it had being the Irishman, there wouldn't have been an air of betrayal about the attack. Isac had betrayed the Morettis and he had to wonder who his partner in crime was. Had it been someone else the family trusted or just another scumbag Isac had recruited to help him? Whatever the answer, Gabriel knew in his gut the Romanian wasn't going to squeal. Isac was foolish to betray the Morettis, but he still had enough intelligence to know he was going to be killed whether he told the truth or not.

Isac glared at Marcus as the young man spoke. He'd known Gabriel's son for some time and now he was mentally urging him to just finish the job. Perhaps lash out in some kind of emotional outburst and bring a quick end to the torture. Soon enough, Marcus did physically react to him. However, his emotional outlet was in the form of violently striking Isac's hand with a hammer. Each blow crushed the bones of a finger. With that, came loud, painful screams from the Romanian's mouth. The immediate gut reaction to the excruciating pain was to yell out the name they wanted, but his mind kept him in check by reminding him he had nothing to gain from it. All he could do was ride out the torture until the men finally gave up on him.

Marcus grabbed his head and addressed him directly to point out that Porter had an alibi which the Morettis themselves could back up. "20 feet away and..." he said, gasping for breath as he forced out his next words. "You all let him live after killing your family." He took another deep breath, flinching as he tried to block out the pain in his hand and face. Marcus threatened to break the bones in his other hand before stepping back from him. This was followed by Teddys rhetorical comments saying the Romanian wasn't going to talk. "You were having fancy drinks in the same room as them," he continued with a strained laugh, not leaving the subject of James being at the auction, despite the other men threatening him further.

Teddy approached next, berating Isac for his impatience and choice to attack Valentina instead of waiting. The chair was kicked over, causing Isac to land on his side on the floor and he found himself hoping this would be the final attack. There was a kick in the stomach followed by Teddy mentioning Valentina. The pain was becoming too much, but Isac couldn't back down now. "You three let it happen." He could sense there was something deep behind Teddy's defending of Valentina and given that he'd known the family long enough, he could only conclude the man attacking him held more feelings for the woman than he'd realised. "It's your fault--" he spat out before Teddy starting laying into him. Punch after punch into the Romanian's face eventually knocked any sense out of him and soon enough rendered him unconscious.

Gabriel could see how things were getting to Marcus and Teddy through their anger being displayed towards Isac. The situation was becoming messy, driven by deep emotions, but considering Valentina was involved it was acceptable for any of them to lose control. This was personal and Gabriel would be lying if he denied there was an urge in him to violently beat the man to death. As it happened, he decided to let Marcus and Teddy take their pent up aggression out on Isac. Watching Isac's body going limp, Gabriel took a step forward but stopped himself. Now holding his gun loosely to his side, he addressed his son and employee. "He won't talk. One of you needs to put an end to him now, or I will." It wasn't so much an order, more an offer for one of them to blow off some steam by shutting the traitor up for good.

RayPurchase RayPurchase (Marcus) Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess (Teddy)
 
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Alistair Sawyer

1599435972327.png The moment Ethan gave his casual remark about his appearance, Alistair became aware that the man had probably never seen him beaten down before. Defeat wasn’t a good look for him, which was why he did his best to maintain a stoical front, but he still felt ashamed for betraying his reputation. In all his time as the East Harlem boss, nobody had ever made a victim out of him. Yet Ani had done it so easily, stripping him of his dignity in the process, and he had been powerless to stop it.

While Ethan's casual acknowledgement could be perceived as somewhat insensitive, Alistair did appreciate the lack of fuss; sympathy was the last thing he wanted, for it would only summon self-pity, and draw forth emotions that he wished not to feel. However, it wasn’t much less desirable than being stared at. Having not yet seen himself in the mirror, he didn’t know how he appeared in Ethan’s eyes and he could feel himself growing uncomfortable under his gaze.

Before he could let it get the better of him, Alistair raised his chin defiantly and met Ethan's eye. "I'm still alive." Even in his determination to rise above his disfigurement and continue undefeated, however, his voice carried not the slightest hint of optimism. An unexpected wave of emotion threatened to surface when Ethan offered to hunt down his assailant and he had to look away. Whether it was the helplessness and shame of being victimised or his struggle to come to terms with the traumatic event, the loyalty that Ethan showed - though it was really nothing special - suddenly meant more to him than ever before.

When he thought about what he wanted to do to Ani, his lust for vengeance didn't arise. Somehow, he didn't care if she got the last laugh - whatever had come over her to carry out such a violent attack had died away by the time she had decided to stitch him back up, and even in the terrible state he had been in, he could still tell that it was traumatic for her, too. He had always thought her soft. No, he was tired of her, now... His war with her was over, and there were much bigger things to deal with.

"Thank you, Ethan, but I don't think that'll be necessary," he drew out, after a long hesitation. He fell silent again as the savage dog leapt back into the front of his mind, bringing with it a shockwave of intense pain that seemed to be located where his arm used to be. It wasn't the first time, and tended to only last a few seconds, but it didn't make it any easier to comprehend. He ground his teeth together, trying to maintain a neutral expression for Ethan's sake, but the effort of ignoring it caused him to break into a cold sweat. "She meant to kill me," he went on, voice weakening as the pain began to abate. "But didn't have it in her to see it through to the end. This...this was enough for her. She got what she wanted...I don't think we'll ever see her again."

Alistair welcomed the change of subject - talking business gave him a chance to get out of his head and return to his responsibilities. First, he was updated about the lawyer, whom he had completely forgotten about. Despite not getting the information he was after, Ethan still looked quite pleased with himself. "Oh yeah? And where is he now?" Alistair asked, eyebrow raised. "Bottom of the East River?"

Hearing that the attack on All That Jazz had been a success cheered Alistair up enough bring a weak smile to his face. "Good, that's good," he muttered, reaching for a face towel to dab at his feverish brow. "You tell him not to let that plaything slip out of his grasp if he values his manhood. Steve gets the job done but goddamn it, he's a fucking whore." He tossed the cloth onto the table before settling back against his pillow with a subtle wince. "But you're right...the attack on Moretti's girl has worked out well for us."

It may have been the miserable state he was already in, but hearing that the cops had reached the office rattled him. "Yes, for god's sake, get Gabriel on the phone," he insisted. "If they get a warrant, we're all fucking fucked. And it'll put out leads to Gabriel's business too, which he doesn't want. It's in everyone's best interests to stop this investigation before it starts." He wondered if the nurse would respect his request not to let the cops into his room. They were probably out there, waiting to hear that he was well enough to talk, and even though it was the nurse's job to look after him, he didn't have much faith that she wouldn't dob him in.

"What the fuck are Steve and Amato doing with that girl, anyway? We're not running a brothel," he grumbled. The pain was starting to creep back to him, adding to the stress and agitation. "Oh, the kids...I want to catch that weasly father of theirs. But if the cops come and they're still there..." He heaved a sigh, reaching up to rub at his eyes. "Alright, two days...if he comes looking for them after that, at least we'll have him trapped. I'm sure you wouldn't mind hacking him to pieces, Ethan, would you?"

Interactions
Misty Gray Misty Gray Ethan
 

Aliana Sullivan
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It was nice to see the two of them on the same page about leaving. It was nice to see them on the same page period, having seen how far they've come in their marriage. She was happy for them, that this was a decision that caused them no pain or divide in their marriage. Which made them a stronger couple, in the end, she thought to herself. She nodded her head to Sinead when she told her about calling each other every day. She was grateful for the reassurance Sinead gave her about Lucy being there to help, though she had already been using Lucy for small things and advice. When she went in to hug Sinead, she noticed Peter make a slight noise but remained focused on Sinead. She had enough to worry about today and bringing up another issue, whether he was okay or not, wasn't going to calm her down.

"As soon as I go into labor, you'll be the first person I call." Sinead had been there for her through a lot of different things. Ali was glad that they were able to lean on each other when needed and would cherish their relationship forever. She was also going to help her with this decision, knowing that it wasn't easy to make. But she deserved a normal life and getting away from things in New York. Aliana hadn't shared it with anyone, but she felt as if things were only going to get worse from here on out. There were times when thoughts of her doing the same thing played with her mind, but she always ignored them. "I'm sure he will. He'll always support your decisions, even if he doesn't agree with them." She gave a faint chuckle at her comment about Conor sleeping outside, nodding her head. "We'll help you pack and with whatever else you need. It'll help me stay busy and we can plan our long-distance relationship." She stated with a smile.

Hearing Peter say he wanted to talk to Sinead, she was almost ready to leave to give them privacy. When he started talking about retirement with her still around, she knew that he trusted her not to say anything until he had. If only her own life had been that easy. She couldn't help but get a faraway look in her eye, doing her best to subside the jealousy she was feeling. There was no reason to feel this way as she had just come to terms with staying and supporting Conor's rise to the top. But it was hard not to while comforting her own friend. She just choked it down until she was able to speak to Louise. She wasn't just good at the marriage stuff, but personal stuff as well and while she wasn't able to tell her gang issues, she had managed to make it seem like a run of the mill life stuff. She waited until they were done saying their parts before she took a heavy sigh and shook her head. "Her. Sinny's having a girl so that way Untitled Girl Project will have another girl to play with when they visit each other." She joked, trying to lighten the mood. Lately, she had been speaking having a girl into existence as a way to hopefully have a girl this round. Being around the boys was enough and she was ready for her own twin. "You guys are making the right decision. Again, whether people disagree with it or not, this is your decision. Trust me, don't let anyone talk you out of it."

Sinead ( Misty Gray Misty Gray )
 
UNKNOWN LOCATION, New York
Amato, Dimitri, Jameson
As Steve assured them that Kerry was top quality and worth every cent, Jameson reached into his side pocket ominously. Brandishing a handkerchief, he tucked the flashlight between the nook in his arm and cleaned the wet blood from his finger tips. His eyes didn't leave hers, studying her mannerisms, and picking up on her defiant glances. "As long as she's healthy and submissive, that's good enough for me," Jameson nodded, stuffing the now blood-soaked handkerchief back in his jacket pocket.

"You see, Jameson's cousin is a little... Different," Dimitri put deliquetly as he crossed his arms. "If Jameson keeps the little guy happy, then his bigtime Uncle's smiling and let me tell you, this guy's loaded," Dimitri chuckled, shaking his head lightly at the circumstances. "If little Alec likes her, then that's all that matters," Jameson confirmed, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. Kerry's pleas fell on deaf ears, as Jameson hadn't acknowledged them in the slightest. It was as if he was at the slaughterhouse, and one of the pigs was squealing in terror. He paid it no more attention than a disapproving glance.

"Of course he'll like her! What's not to like? She's no different from the rest of those broads," Dimitri nudged, opening his palm flat in Kerry's direction. "Yeah, I just hope this one lasts a little longer," Jameson tsked, crossing his arms at Kerry as he studied her once more. "He's gotta learn to be a little more gentle," Dimitri laughed, to which Jameson smiled for the first time, exposing his yellow, cracked teeth. "Hey, the guy likes to play with his food. It's like buying mice for one expensive ass snake," Jameson sighed, sticking his tongue to his cheek.

"She can go the distance. You should've seen her the other night when we snatched her up. She's got spunk alright," Amato assured the men in the room, nodding down to Kerry's temporarily disfigured face. "She won't fight back too much will she?" Jameson asked, leaning back to Amato. Without hesitation, Amato lashed out with his hand, as if he were going to strike her. With the beatings Kerry had taken for hours upon hours, it was no shame of her own that she'd recoil at the sudden mock-attack. "See? She's ain't no problem," Amato chuckle, slapping his hand on Steve's shoulder to include his business partner in their prized product.

Jameson contemplated momentarily, pressing his thumb to his lip as his eyes flickered to the bloody instruments on the ground. "Alright," he started with a strong nod. "I'll take her." Amato erupted in a cheer, clasping his hands together. "Fantastic! We've got a deal then!" His joyous eyes shot to Steve to savor such a sweet victory. He then offered his hand to Jameson, who shook his firmly as if it were the bind to their contract.

Misty Gray Misty Gray (Kerry) Pyroclast Pyroclast (Steve)
 
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Gabriel Moretti and Kerry Patrick

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Kerry stood helplessly as the men discussed her, ignoring anything she said and simply treating her no better than an animal. Hearing them openly discuss the plans to give her to an apparently sickening man named Alec was terrifying. She felt sick to her stomach but managed to hold back the urge to throw up, instead replacing it with desperate sobs. Cries that she knew would only fall on deaf ears but had no control over anyway. She'd never in a million years have imagined her life would have turned out the way it was now heading; how turning up for a shift at work had led her in such a grim and hopeless direction. As expected, Amato lashing out towards her face cased Kerry to instinctively flinch; cowering for a prolonged time before realising he was simply taunting her.

As the men set about confirming the deal and shaking hands to seal it, Kerry quickly shook her head. "No. You can't!" she said, managing to find her voice to raise it. "Please!" she screamed beneath her tears. She knew she couldn't stop them, but it didn't mean she could hold back her disapproval.

*****​

6e28b035e500cd055e747cc8c9fda6ad.jpgThe Isac situation had managed to wrap up in time for Gabriel to be picked up for his next task of the evening. Leaving Marcus and Teddy to finish up, then make their own way home, Gabriel didn't waste time in leaving the building. After a quick clean-up, Gabriel had the driver collect Rhys before they made their way to the intended destination where two armed Moretti guards greeted them. Gabriel was fully aware of how the attack on All That Jazz had played out, including being told of the young woman Tony, Amato and Steve had seized from the club. The cash the men had stolen from the Mob's business was of no interest to Gabriel and he had intended for them to just share it amongst themselves. The woman, however, Gabriel and Rhys had other ideas about. Once the car rolled to a stop, the armed guards opened the rear car doors to let their boss and his right-hand man out. "Play time is over," Gabriel told Rhys, clearly referring to whatever he anticipated Steve in particular would intend on doing with a helpless woman.

From the top of the basement stairs, Gabriel overheard the male voices speaking. One voice saying "I'll take her" followed by Amato's familiar voice; "Fantastic! We've got a deal then!". Gabriel sent Rhys a disapproving glance before his heavy footsteps were heard descending the stairs, followed by Rhys's and the two armed guards who dropped back a little as they followed. The Italian heard the young woman's distressed scream, but remained stone-faced as he approached the situation. The heavy metal door was opened partway, Gabriel's hand soon pushing it fully open and letting a little more light shine onto the four men as well as Kerry.

Without hesitation, Gabriel stepped into the room, taking a moment to look Dmitri and Jameson over. Clearly, Amato was in the process of selling Kerry to the two men, but that would not be happening now Moretti was present. The Italian shifted his focus to the terrified young woman trembling against the wall. She had clearly been through an horrendous time, covered in cuts and bruises, not to mention mental turmoil that was etched on her wounded face. She appeared to be a fragile thing and beneath the mess his employees had inflicted on her, Gabriel figured she was of a similar age to Valentina. That was where Gabriel privately acknowledged he was a great hypocrite, given he'd spent hours torturing a man for being sick enough to lay a hand on his daughter. The reality in Gabriel's mind was that this was a war and Kerry was an unfortunate, insignificant, casualty of it.

"The deal is off," Gabriel asserted. He didn't doubt all parties involved would be disappointed, but his own plans overrode theirs. "Gentlemen," he said, turning to Dmitri and Jameson as he motioned to the exit. "Alternative arrangements can be made to compensate, but there will be no deals here tonight," he said, referring to Kerry. Gabriel's cold gaze would remain on the two men until they walked away and had left altogether. He then sent Rhys an exasperated glance before fixing his eyes on Steve and Amato. It was unsurprising the men would try to get something out of the situation for themselves, but their thirst for a big pay-out clashed with Moretti's own plans. No doubt there would be other opportunities. The two men had proved themselves enough for Gabriel to let their attempted off-the-books deal slide.

Kerry had let out a deep sigh of relief, almost buckling as the relief overwhelmed her already exhausted body. The two newcomers on the scene hadn't provided any comfort to her, but the fact the two buyers had been made to leave made her feel at least a little hopeful for her situation. However, the newcomers seemed to know her abductor, which soon killed off any relief she might have been feeling. She looked to Rhys, her eyes practically pleading with him to help her.

Gabriel folded his arms and sent Rhys a knowing glance, as he figured the man would be having similar ideas to himself. He then turned to Kerry and looked her over. Although he'd gladly left Isac in a burned and bloody mess, the wounds observed on the young woman didn't seem quite as satisfying to him. "What are we going to do with you?" his cold, calm voice addressed the Callahan-employed barmaid.

Pyroclast Pyroclast (Steve) Enzyme Enzyme (Rhys, Amato, Dmitri, Jameson)
Mentions: RayPurchase RayPurchase (Marcus) Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess (Teddy)
 
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Riccardio Biancardi

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When his father assured Roxie they were there if she needed anything, Ricky quickly nodded his head. "Ah, it goes without saying. It'll keep me out of trouble if I'm helping you out," he remarked. He frowned when she mentioned how difficult it would be keeping things from Syd. "He's a grown up and he's not knew to this kind of lifestyle, so he'll have to learn to deal with it," Ricky couldn't help but speak out. "He'll have to realise it works both ways now. Separate business from personal as much as you both can." He figured in reality it wouldn't be that simple, especially if Syd wasn't open to adapting.

Ricky listened on as they spoke about the terms they could try keep with Moretti and Giovanni backed up his son's assessment of the man in question. "This old guy is right," he began, teasing his father. "We'll try keep discussions focused on business. No personal vendettas and missions of revenge... If things still get personal, well, maybe I could marry one of his daughters - or the son, if pushed - to secure a truce," he joked. There was a break from the discussion when Jeanie woke up and Roxie handed her to Giovanni to hold.

When Roxie asked if there were any more secrets she needed to know about her family, Ricky glanced to his father before taking a moment to think. "We've covered the bribery, extortion, illegal imports and intimidation. Also checked off Uncle Stef's nasty vendetta against the Irish lot..." He let out a deep sigh. "I think my conscience is all clear, for now. Hopefully I won't leave the meeting with Moretti with more sins to confess," he seriously added.

Bellz Bellz (Roxie, Giovanni)
 
Atlantic City, New Jersey

Jackson, William, Toni, Davide
"Is babyface in charge of this circus?"
The younger Corleone, Davide, spat venom at Syd, scrunching his face in such intense hatred to where the healing cuts in his face looked as if they were going to split open under the black light. Toni Corleone pressed his flat palm to Davide's chest to calm him, but with the flare in his nostrils and the death in his eyes, Toni's hand resembled nothing more than a paper deadbolt. "Easy, Davide," Toni soothed, his thick Italian accent sounding identical to those of the Morettis'. The uncanny resemblance did something to Jackson's natural fight or flight instinct, and he had to squeeze the armrest to stop himself from letting his second nature take over.

"I understand the predicament you and your family are in, but with what occurred last night, in our city, this was most certainly necessary," William quickly asserted himself back in before the thin atmosphere shattered. "We've been working for a very long time now for a level of peace, and with such a... Well, hanious act committed on their most prized club, and for it all to be wrapped-up in a gift under my name, this conversation is the only bind to any resemblance of sanctity!" William began to raise his voice in frustration under the stress the Sullivans had thrust upon him. He managed to catch himself before he could slip, and with the straightening of his bowtie, he exhaled deeply. "I apologize. I wish I could've warned you, but the anonymity of their presence was the only way I could assure your family would still be present for this meeting, and things could be squared away," William apologized sincerely, looking to Conor with a glance of reassurance and the slightest dash of desperation.

As Conor spoke up, Jackson seethed in his seat, slumped back with his eyes locked on Davide and Toni. He didn't trust this situation in the slightest, and with his best friend and godson being the only ones in the room, he had to fight every last nerve not to kill everyone in the room. He could only sit with the dread, the same dread he'd felt the following night after Tommy's murder. It all started the same, a rapid succession of violence, stowed away in a Trojan Horse of peace until the perfect, unexpected moment. He wouldn't let himself be blindsided this time, and he wasn't taking his eyes off of the Italians, or his hands off his piece. The guards at the door didn't seem too pleased with the whole situation, and their boss being present. With Jackson's hand still on his side holster, he could feel their dagger-like eyes digging into the back of his head, ordering him to let go. He had no intention of doing so; they'd have to kill him first.

"Their alliance with the Moretti's isn't bound by blood and they only support them with weapon transport," William assured Conor, finding a need to down more contents from his glass. "They're all Italians, and through their heritage, they're obligated to support each other in some shape, but don't be mistaken, Mr. Sullivan. This is our city, our state. What you and Mortetti can't seem to grasp, is that it's possible to co-exist in the same home without killing one-another. That is what Mr. Corleone and I are coming to realize. We're all business men, with families, with friends, and with great ambitions to contribute to the world. There's no reason we can't profit alongside our next-door-neighbor, can't you understand?" William shook his head, placing his glass on the table before he got too carried away.

The men in the room looked around, and at least for William, he felt the place was beginning to ease up. Not everything had to end in bloodshed, and he was hoping his ideologies weren't too progressive for the other parties in the room. "With the world being so hellbent on tearing itself apart, I don't see why my state can't put itself back together. Mr. Corleone is my neighbor, and to that, he should be respected, as should I."

"The sword is the weak man's pen,"
William started, calling back to Jackson's title earlier, "and if you and Mortetti want to keep eating away at each other until there's nothing's left, then that's your business. I, on the other hand, want a city my family can prosper in, with an ally in my backyard, rather than an enemy. If that makes me a coward in your eyes, then that should speak volume to your values."

Misty Gray Misty Gray (Conor) Pyroclast Pyroclast (Syd)
 
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Marcus Moretti

(Pic Incoming)


And with that Marcus had his father's blessing, to end this pathetic worm's life. He had expected some sort of fear or trepidation, his heart to be pounding in his ears or a rising feeling of nausea. All of it to mark him taking a life for the first time. There was none of that though, no fear or terror, no need for bravado to cover these emotions. Instead he was calm. His heart slow and rhythmic. Marcus's hand slipped to the handgun that rested on the tray of now bloodied tools, it lay there pristine amongst the carnage, the matte black exterior absorbing the light that reflected off of the steel of the other instruments of torture. He had carried a handgun before, the wright was one that he was used to, but this time the grip seemed more natural. He wasn't just taking it down to a range and taking potshots at cans or targets, he was using it for what it was meant for, and it was as if it knew. Teddy and Gabe seemed to fade away, it was just him and Isac, the buzzing of the light disappeared and there was clarity.

Marcus looked over the man, his shattered fingers, the burned flesh, the cheeks wet with tears and snot. He felt almost pity. But he knew that the Isac he had known was gone, he had died the moment that he had turned against the Morettis, the moment that he had sold out Val, knowing full well that by doing so he has signed her death sentence. All that was left was the spineless invertebrate before him, a waste of flesh and bone. Marcus raised the handgun, the sight drawing level with the bridge of Isac's nose, straight between the eyes. The fear was still there in them, but also an unwilling acceptance. Isac must have known that he wasn't leaving here alive, no matter what he told them all, but some part of him must have clung onto that. The human condition did not allow for acceptance of death, even after the bullet had passed through him, killing him instantly, the heart would still desperately try and pump for a few more moments, it's messages to the brain hoing unanswered for the first time in their twinned existence. It would rale against this fate for as long as it could, but it was inevitable.

"And to Traitor's their dues,"

His voice was low, but to him it seemed to reverberate around the basement. And with that his finger curled around the trigger. The mechanism was smooth, and required little force. The rail slid back, the cartridge ejecting as the muzzle flashed. Shadows appeared around Isac's face, the features rendered taught by the sudden flash of light, throwing a hundred different emotions in that briefest of moments. And then like glass they shattered, Isac's head was flung back, but the chair remained standing in fact it hardly moved. Marcus lowered the pistol to his side. And he waited. There was no joy, no relief, no sense of things being made better by his actions. Val had been hurt, and the bullet didn't change that. At the same time though there was no regret or disgust, no deep revulsion at the murder that had occurred, this assault on nature. It had to be done after all.

No. Marcus just felt tired, the events of the past 24 hours rapidly catching up to him. The deed was done, but this was by no means the end. Isac hadn't worked alone, and he wouldn't rest until everyone else who had been there was dead. Anyone who knew those people were dead, he would kill them all and salt the earth after them. Miami felt like a world away now. One that had slipped through his fingers. It had been close, oh so close, he could hear the crash of the waves and laughter of his friends. Would he ever have really made it back though, perhaps there had never been a chance, and his verbal clash with his father was just his last cry of anguish, knowing that part of his life was lost to him now, and the way back was shut. He turned, nodding towards to Teddy and he dropped the pistol to the floor with a clatter, the clean up crew would deal with it all.

"I'm calling it a day, if you want to come with and grab a nightcap you're more than welcome to grab a ride with me,"

He was a good man Teddy. Loyal to the end, Marcus had seen the anger that had passed through him when the news about Val had hit. He would remember the actions of such men.

(Interaction: Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess Teddy)

 
Adam Harper and Jasmine Carpenter



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As Chase explained what was going on, Adam could feel his last thread of patience being stretched, though his serious face remained mostly unchanged. "Motherfuckers..." he grumbled as his eyes subtly scanned the club. Being told things needed to be handled in a way that would avoid further bad publicity quickly threw out any ideas Adam had about retrieving any large firearms and unloading on the intruders. This one required more stealth, which Adam was also equipped to deal with.

The lights went down and the loud music kicked in, causing Adam to let out an irritated groan. Still, he rolled back his shoulders and focused his mind on the matter at hand, able to block out the racket when he needed to. "Good luck, you two," he told Chase and Jasmine before nudging Johnny's arm. "Come on, dreamboat," he remarked, a brief throwback to the two giggling women who had been eyeing him up.

With their two friends making their way into the crowd, Adam and Johnny walked along the edge of the interior, cutting out the crowd as they walked to one of the "Staff Only" labelled doors that led backstage. All the while, Adam's hand hovered over his pistol as he kept his eyes focused on their surroundings. Once they reached the door, Adam had Johnny cover him while he pushed it open. Finally out of sight of the club's customers, Adam pulled his firearm out into view and aimed it in front as he and Johnny walked down the narrow corridor to the wooden steps leading to the back of the stage.

As soon as they stepped onto the wooden floor of the cluttered backstage area, Adam saw the pale, lifeless body of one of the bouncers slumped amongst the boxes and stage equipment. Then, their attention was drawn to the large, athletic man seated on an upturned wooden crate. He remained seated, with a semi-automatic in one hand and apparently a brick of cocaine in the other. Still, he made no move to suggest he was going to open fire on the two men. "Before you do something rash, it would be in everyone's best interests to hear me out... there's a lot of innocent people dancing out there," Jed calmly told the two Sullivan employees. "It's my lucky day. I was hoping you or the Cuban fella would show up," he remarked to Adam with a smirk, glancing down to the contraband.

RayPurchase RayPurchase (Johnny)

*****​

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Jasmine walked close to Chase as they approached the wild crowd. The flashing lights and the chaotic movements of the people dancing made it difficult to be completely focused on their surroundings. Still, she kept her eyes on the crowd, looking for anyone who seemed out of place. Everyone around seemed to be genuinely enjoying the music or too off their head to be any kind of threat. The odd clumsy elbow collided with her back and one woman even stumbled into her, but Jasmine kept focused. The next thing to hit her wasn't a nudge or a bump, it felt sharper. A deep pain lingered in the side of her thigh soon making her aware of the fact the outside of her left leg had been stabbed. Before thinking of looking to the suspected wound, she quickly snapped her head around, trying to find the snake in the grass.

Around the same time Chase would look there, Jasmine also noticed the shifty-looking man quickly heading towards the men's restroom. He'd looked over his shoulder a number of times whilst keeping one hand trained at his hip. "That's got to be one of them," she spoke into Chase's ear. "Let's go!" It was only as they reached the restroom door that Chase would notice Jasmine limping slightly, with her left hand pressed against her leg and the red staining on her fingertips. "It's nothing. We keep going," she firmly told him. There were too many people at risk for her to consider backing out over a wounded leg.

Inside the men's restroom, the gunman stood against the far wall with one of the barmen bound by the wrists, tied to the thick pipe of the sinks, his mouth gagged to keep him quiet. "Lock the door behind you," the gunman, Lyle, suggested to Chase, tossing the key to his feet whilst training his handgun on the side of the young barman's skull. He pointed to Jasmine's bleeding leg and smirked. "You should be more careful where you're dancing love," he remarked, leaving no doubt he was to blame for it.

Pyroclast Pyroclast (Chase)
 
Conor Sullivan

1599610524758-png.778725
Conor glared at Davide as the young man made a venomous comment towards Syd. If only it was appropriate to finish making a mess of the little Italian bastard's face by smashing it against the fancy mahogany desk. Toni's hand was the physical and visible restraint stopping Davide from doing anything stupid. Conor's restraints were now all within himself, through years of learning the hard way, mixed with the help of his loved ones and, unfortunately, some assistance from Dr. Parker. All of which, Conor had no choice but to be grateful for, even if he was now sat talking instead of doing what his nature would have one told him to do and making a mess. It was damn hard, given the sound of the Italian's voice which not only took him back to sitting opposite the smug Moretti bastard some days ago, but dragged him even further back to Vinnie Romano, the first Italian to harm his family. Whatever happened, Conor was not prepared to lose another person he cared about to the Morettis. He couldn't go through another funeral. He had to keep his head in check.

William tried to explain the extent of the Corleone family's arrangement with the Morettis, but it did little to receive Conor's blessing or approval, which thankfully wasn't being sought in the first place. With mention of it being possible for two crime families to exist in the same city, Conor briefly became distracted from answering the question of whether he understood the neighbours getting along. In Conor's leadership experience in New York, it was mostly the Morettis attacking his family. Causing death and destruction to try prise the city from Irish hands. But before that, even before Francesco murdered Liam Sullivan, Conor knew things had been quite different. Two decades ago, Conor and his father had been fighting to expand their business in Chicago, only to find themselves literally fighting to survive against the more powerful Romano Family. New York's history back in the 60s had been a different story. Jack and Liam Sullivan ran the city, taking down any other gang that tried to make their own mark on the city. Although Conor knew he wasn't the same as his uncle and cousin, he knew his role now meant it was a reputation, perhaps even burden, he had to carry on his own shoulders. The war with the Morettis wasn't his own doing, but he was now the one who had to put an end to it whilst protecting his family.

Any frustrations had to be held back, given Jackson and Syd could be in the firing line for any wrong move on his own part now. Conor took a deep breath and considered his words. "Then both of your families are in a fortunate position today. Perhaps it's wrong of me to label you a coward for taking the peaceful road - the path of least resistance. Clearly, this means any alliance our families had must come to an end and I hope when trouble does come knocking on your door, you find the guts to stand up for your family and business." There was a bitter taste in Conor's mouth. He had all of the energy and determination to fight, but now any wrong move on his part would affect his loved ones.

Pyroclast Pyroclast (Syd)
Enzyme Enzyme (Jackson, William, Toni, Davide)
 
Valentina Moretti

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Valentina couldn't help but take some warmth and perhaps a little amusement from her mother saying she was committed to making a relationship with Teddy happen. That was one family member on board, at least. She wasn't sure how Marcus and Tatiana would feel about the matter, but she was sure Gabriel wouldn't be as open to it as Elvian was. Given that the attack had brought Valentina's need for independence and freewill to the forefront of her mind, it was another matter she was intent to stand her ground on. Despite that determination, it wasn't a conversation - or confrontation - she was looking forward to. She just hoped her father had learned something over the last few days about giving his family some room to breathe.

Valentina used her healthier hand to bat off her mother's as the woman squeezed her cheek. "Have you thought about adopting another child, then I won't be the youngest anymore?" she quipped in response to her mother's reasoning. "How will you gauge Papa's reaction, or is that something top secret?"

It was reassuring to hear her mother speak positively of Teddy, backing up her own gut feeling that the man wouldn't mess her around like others had. "Nobody is perfect," she agreed. "Some are just better humans than others." She let out a dry laugh at the suggestion she would regret not giving things with Teddy a try. "Lord knows we've got enough regrets in our lives..." she trailed off. She let out a sigh. It seemed like she and her siblings all had things their father needed to loosen up about. She hoped he would start to ease up on all of them, as she didn't like seeing Tatiana and Marcus feeling like they had to prove themselves or hide a part of who they were from Gabriel. "I hope Marcus isn't pushed too hard just to prove to Papa what should be obvious anyway. That he is capable and he wants to be treated as such. I know how it feels to be underestimated," she sympathised.

Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess (Elvian)
 
Chase Zegarra

1601036668089.png The pair were immersed in chaos as they waded through the rambunctious crowd. Some of the fans were less than cooperative about letting them pass, seeing them as an obstacle to their good time that needed to be dealt with. Chase had no choice but to let them get annoyed - there was no way he could explain that his minor disturbance was for their own safety. It was almost impossible to spot suspicious activity through all the disorientating lights and pyrotechnics, and with so many people knocking into him, Chase found it hard to stay on his feet. Such an environment would certainly make it easy for somebody to sneak up on them, so as well as looking out for the enemy, he kept an eye on Jasmine to make sure she was still close.

Somebody got between them, but Chase stopped and reached back for her until she had caught up. It was as important to him to know that she was safe as it was to find the enemy. Just as he turned back to look over the crowd, Jasmine leaned in close and drew his attention to a man over by the men’s restroom, scanning his surroundings before he slipped inside. Chase nodded and increased his pace, keeping a light touch on Jasmine’s arm so that he didn’t have to take his eyes off the door ahead. When he finally burst out of the crowd, he turned to glance back at Jasmine and noticed a slight look of discomfort on her face. It didn’t take long to work out what was causing it. “Somebody cut you, Jasmine?” he asked her, instinctively taking her hand in his to examine the blood. When he realised what he was doing, he let go of her hand and instead looked her in the eye. “Are you -” But she cut him off, reminding him that they had a job to do. As much as he wanted to stop and take a proper look at her injury, he knew she was right - they couldn’t stop for anything, not when several hundred people were in danger.

The scene inside the restroom confirmed their suspicions. One young bartender was being held hostage, a gun pointed at his head; although he was bound and gagged, his wide, bloodshot eyes communicated his fear clearly enough. The man they had seen enter the restroom was leaning against the wall, holding the gun almost lazily as though he had grown bored waiting for Chase and Jasmine to catch up with him. He tossed the keys to the restroom over to Chase, presumably having stolen them from Richard, and ordered him to lock the door. With a reluctant sigh, Chase stooped to pick them up from the floor. He wouldn’t normally take orders from the enemy, but on this occasion it was for the sake of the public.

Before he made it to the door, however, the man made a comment about Jasmine’s bleeding leg that caught his attention and he shot a hard glare at the man. “You? You fucking touched her?” A sharp click drew Lyle’s attention to the switchblade in Chase’s hand; he only managed to take a couple of steps forward, however, before Lyle thrust the gun firmly in the bartender’s direction to remind him of what was at stake. The young man drew a panicked breath and looked up at Chase with desperation in his eyes.

Chase made no effort to reassure him, instead turning his attention to Jasmine. The blood stains were spreading across her thigh despite her attempt to stem the flow. It was clear by now that it wasn’t just a small cut - she had been stabbed. “Jas-” Suddenly the door flew open and two more men stormed in. Even though he had been poised to fight, Chase wasn’t expecting anyone but civilians or staff members to enter the room - perhaps even Adam or Johnny - so he hesitated. Just long enough for one of them to get the first punch in, catching him square on the eye. Chase recoiled, but had little time to register the impact before the knife in his hand became the object of a tug of war as the two wrestled with it inches between their faces.

Lyle apparently hadn’t been expecting back-up, either - in his surprise, he redirected his gun at the intruders. Then, even after he saw who they were, he kept the gun raised in case he needed to shoot Chase or Jasmine. Fighting in such a cramped and crowded space was never ideal, but especially not when so many people were involved. The second attacker went straight for Jasmine, intending to disable her by wrapping his arm around her neck in a tight chokehold. Noticing the stab wound on her leg, he took advantage of the weak spot and gouged into it using the edge of his ring.

A smack on the elbow sent Chase’s knife-wielding hand to his face, slicing the surface of his cheek just an inch beneath his eye. Before he could take more damage, he released his grip on the knife and managed to catch it with his other hand, tearing it across his assailant’s stomach and then swinging the man around, where he fell heavily into Lyle’s arm. The gun went off as it was knocked out of his hand, the bullet hitting the ceiling tiles and triggering a shower of dirt and rubble. Relentlessly, the man launched himself off the ground and barrelled into Chase; but Chase was in the stronger position and managed to slam his head against the edge of the sink. He watched the man slump onto the tiles beside the young bartender, who gave him a kick for extra measure.

Without wasting a second, Chase took his chance and dived down to grab the gun before anybody else could. As he stood, he reached up and uselessly wiped the blood across his cheek before doing a quick press check on Lyle's gun. He then pointed it at the man who had attacked Jasmine until he moved out of reach from her, and held his other hand out for Jasmine in case she needed the support. "Are we done?" he asked, still aiming the gun between Lyle and his affiliate. "Tell me what the fuck you’re doing in this club.”

Interactions
Misty Gray Misty Gray Jasmine, NPCs

(Relevant: Adam, RayPurchase RayPurchase Johnny)
 
Johnny Reed

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And like that the calm of the evening simply fell away. It had just been too good to be true hadn't it. Johnny had thought maybe that given the previous hit against the Jazz club, tonight would be quiet. It looked like the Moretti's were taking a 'strike while the iron is hot' approach though. Johnny groaned as he pushed himself away from the bar, shrugging his shoulders towards the two women who had been parading their way up and down past him.

"Apologies ladies, duty calls and all that, why don't you leave your numbers with the barman and we'll reconvene at a more suitable date and time?"

With a wink and grin he was turning and matching Adam step for step. His hand dropped for a moment to his armpit holster, coming into contact with the grip of the pistol through the material of his suit jacket. "Dreamboat eh? Well Mr Strong and Silent, they weren't exactly keeping their eyes off of you either," He glanced back towards them, just as they were lost to the crowd that Johnny and Adam plunged into, surrounded by dancing partygoers, his heart tightened a little as he looked at the care free party goers, this is what it must have been like at the jazz club before the place was torched with all those poor souls in it. The last of his smile dropped at that thought, they couldn't allow that to happen, not again, not here. The noise of the dancefloor began to die as they slipped into the stockroom his leather shoes tapping against the wooden floor. They came to a juddering halt however, confronted by the lifeless bodies of some of the bouncers, and the cause of their demise. Johnny sighed as he looked down at the pistol leveled at them, and then back to the man wielding it. He raised his hands slowly showing they were empty as he took a step forward.

"Well ain't that just grand for you, sorry you got me and not the Cuban though, could of had yourself a straight flush there. I'd hasten to add that our Cuban amigo is not too far away, heavily armed and with a posse as well. So maybe you want to lower that fire arm of yours, cos you're not going to be shooting your way out of this one,"

(Interaction Misty Gray Misty Gray Adam)
 
Adam Harper

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Jed remained seated on the crate, letting out an exaggerated sigh after Johnny had finished speaking. "You'll do in his place until he gets here with his supposed army," he flippantly remarked. Jed finally stood up, almost making it seem like it was too much of an effort to do so just to meet them on their eye-level. "Trouble with the Cuban storming in here is that he could get a lot of people killed. If anything happens to me or my partner on this job, then the other men we brought with us have been ordered to open fire on this club. I'm sure last night will assure you we're not bluffing," he referred to the jazz club attack.

"Alright, you ugly piece of shit..." Adam's gruff voice began as he took a step forward. It took a lot of effort for him not to simply grab his gun and put a bullet in Jed's head. The set up of the situation along with the assailant's words told him in no uncertain terms that it would be a dumb move. Adam wasn't one to hesitate to risk his own life and his colleagues knew what they were letting themselves in for when they started working for the mob, but there were hundreds of innocent lives at stake if he chose to take the action he was more familiar with. He'd seen how far the enemy was willing to go and he'd be lying if he said the jazz club tragedy hadn't got to him, especially after seeing the devastation in Sinead. He couldn't have so many innocent people die on his watch. "Well, obviously you want something from us and we'd rather the customers out there remain unharmed. What do you want?" he abruptly asked before shooting a glance Johnny's way.

Jed flashed a smile at Adam before pointing to Johnny. "This guy's right. I won't be shooting my way out of here because you're both going to give me what I want and allow me to leave this place quietly. I want to know where this came from," he said, holding up the cocaine. "The details of your contacts in Cuba and the location of where the shipments are coming in to New York."

"Go fuck yourself," Adam shot back.

"I can give you two good reasons why you'll want to make sure my partner and I walk out of here, unharmed, with the information I just asked you for." Still holding the gun in one hand, he set the drugs down on the crate so he could retrieve a wallet from his back pocket with his freed up hand. He opened up the wallet before tossing it across the floor, the wallet sliding to Johnny's feet to show the business card belonging to 'Mitchell Van Gerwin'. "Give me inaccurate information and your boss won't get his pet lawyer back. That's one reason. The other is one Joseph Carpenter. Loyal to the mob through and through; loving father to the woman you've got on your team. He happens to be living in a prison cell these days and with just one phone call, his sentence will come to an early and very bloody end. That's how I know I'll walk out of here tonight and with accurate information from you two." He pointed to shelving next to Johnny and Adam, drawing their attention to the piece of paper and pen. "Go on, have a think about it and write the details down. Don't take too long."

Adam glared at Jed before eventually turning to Johnny so he could address only him. "We can't give him the details, right?" he quietly spoke. Of course he knew Jasmine cared for her father and would be upset if something happened to the man, but Adam had long since had to learn to cut off his feelings as part of the job. Giving the Morettis the information they wanted would be a huge blow to the Irish Mob and he suspected more lives than the lawyer's and Joseph's would be lost in the long run. "I don't know about you, but I can't give him what he's asking for. I'm more inclined to send them on a wild goose chase," he remarked, considering writing down false details for Jed to at least save the people in the club. "What do you think?" The way he saw it, Joseph wasn't getting out of prison any time soon so what was to stop the enemy from using the man as a threat again. What was the guarantee they'd even get Mitch back in one piece?

RayPurchase RayPurchase (Johnny)
Relevant: Pyroclast Pyroclast (Chase)
 


Theodore Wycliff
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Isac began to speak what Teddy concluded to be nonsense, trying to blame them for what happened to Valentina. He wasn't hearing that it was the groups fault, that it was the three of them to be blamed. He was hearing that it was him, Theodore Wycliff, who was to blame for not being there for him. It was something he had already spoke with her about, wishing he had been there to escort her instead of sitting idle at the charity auction. He was only there for a show of power anyway, there was nothing important for him to do. Playing bodyguard for a night would have been more ideal and they wouldn't be here. Teddy's knuckles wouldn't be bruised and abused from the breaking of bones and cartilage in Isac's face. But, things had turned out to be a lot different.

It had long become apparent that he wasn't going to give them the information they needed, but beating him to a pulp was going to make him feel better. Not by much, but enough to say he made him suffer. If it were left up to him, Teddy would have let him sit in this room and left to die because of his wounds. Putting a bullet in him was only putting him out of his misery and that wasn't enough. Teddy had gone to a dark place dealing with this traitor and he wanted him to beg for death; beg for his demise. That wasn't going to be the case this time around as he and Marcus were given instructions to finish him off as he watched Gabriel leave the room. Teddy was tired and wanted to get this over with so he could go to bed. These past weeks had proven to be a lot for him, forcing him to take a good look at himself and his life. But that was something to think about once he was finished here. Right now, he had a job to finish with Marcus, who had picked up the gun from the table and was ready to end Isac altogether. A part of him felt like they failed their mission here today. The main focus was figuring out who else was involved in the attack; they hadn't gotten that answer and he wasn't going to. Justice for Valentina wasn't complete and wouldn't be until they found the other culprit.

The loud bang resonated inside the room as Marcus finished the job, throwing the gun down next to his dead body. There was no way Isac was coming back, having been shot in the head, and he was happy to tell Val that. She wouldn't have to worry about this man hurting her again. Marcus then asked if he wanted a nightcap. He politely declined, letting him know he wanted to wash up and head to bed. This had been enough excitement for him for one day as he entered his apartment, immediately setting out to his cleaning process. Bloody clothes in the trash bag thrown in an incinerator, all signs of blood cleaned up. His mind was busy thinking about Val and how a lot of his punches were emotionally motivated. Ahh shit... He thought to himself, I think I like Val... That was going to be tough one, a minefield to navigate through if he wanted to confess it to her and bring something about from it. "Just had to go and pick the bosses daughter, huh?" He said to himself.

Marcus ( RayPurchase RayPurchase )
 


Elvian Moretti
IN12_VSS_ZETA_JONES
If anyone deserves to be happy right now, she thought to herself, it was her youngest. She didn't have much luck in the relationship department as the last man she was with was nothing but a toxic piece of trash. There was nothing she wanted more than to see all her children happy. Though, if she were being honest, a playboy like Teddy wasn't her first choice but ever since his betrayal. He spoke about his conquests less, which made her think there were fewer women coming in and out of his apartment. She was sure he would be capable of being someone not only worthy to Valentina, but to herself and her husband. Which raised the question of how Gabe was going to take it and if he would accept it. If it turned out the two of them began to date, she wasn't going to let her husband get in the way. Her parents tried to stop her from being with Gabriel but she had followed her heart and didn't let them. She wasn't going to be like her parents.

At the mention of adopting another kid, she looked at her and smiled. "I had for a while, but then things got so crazy. Plus, as much I loved the younger years, I don't want to raise anymore. I'm in the spoiling stage of my life now. So, hurry and get this thing with Teddy on the road so I can finally reach the pinnacle of my life and have grandchildren." She joked. "I can't tell you that, just know have secret powers. You saw how I got the dog and he didn't want one." As soon as she mentioned him, he ran into the room and hopped on the bed. "Speak of the devil." She scooped him into her arms, away from the food as she and her daughter continued their conversation. She made in retort to her statement about Teddy. She was correct in every way and nodded her head in agreeance. She could only hope for the best, as it was Teddy who needed to prove himself worthy of being with her daughter.

"Oh, your father is... Special. His intentions are pure though often misplaced and he doesn't see that. He only wants you to be prepared for the world, this life, and I'm sure there are often times where he doesn't see it from your view. Though I will say, based on our conversation yesterday he may understand this more."

Valentina ( Misty Gray Misty Gray )
 
Atlantic City, New Jersey
Jackson, William, Davide, Toni
The room fell silent as Conor put down his final word like a judge's gavel. The chemistry of the room fell to an imbalance as the mixed feelings ranged from William's sorrowful nod to Davide's subtle, yet devious smile. With three decades of an alliance crumbling before him, William could only offer the Sullivans one last drink. He had been brought to a crossroads where he could choose to keep an ally he'd had for most of his time leading the Campbells or achieve peace in his city for his family for the first time in over five decades. The choice was far from easy; luckily Conor had made it for him. Conor's final words, however, had left a knife wound in his heart. He remembered the days of laughing and sharing drinks with Liam Sullivan, a man who shared very similar facial features with the man across from him - at least in the present lighting.

"Don't even think about it," Toni hissed in a hushed tone, pressing his hand over Davide's interlocked grip, which rested peculiarly in front of Davide's tucked shirt. The attention, however, was quickly drawn back to William as he raised his glass to Conor, a look of sorrow sinking in his eyes. It didn't resemble regret or any remorse - but instead a dismal acknowledgment that this was the inevitable end of the alliance between the Irish and Scottish. "To your family’s great health and happiness in such trying times," he cheered, before knocking back his drink.

As the peaceful dismantling of the partnership came to a close, the bitter anger in the corner of the room boiled over. It happened as quickly as it always had, at the moment least expected. "Davide!" Was all that could be heard before the barrel of a Browning Hi-Power was thrust in Conor Sullivan's face. The tension in the room exploded like the Big Bang, from nothing but seldom silence. The guards hadn't a second to react but only watched as helpless spectators to an assassination on their hands.

This wouldn't be the end, not this time. Jackson's eyes hadn't left the sniffling-nose bastard since he showed his cowardly face from the shadows. Before Davide could even extend his arm out fully to a shooter's position, Jackson's hand quickly shot out and intercepted his wrist. With the course being knocked off, the bullet intended for Conor's skull instead hit the pitcher of red wine resting on the sidebar protruding from the wall, exploding it into ten different chunks of glass.

In a swift, violent tug, Jackson ripped the kid off his feet and onto the carpeted floor between the sofa chairs and William's desk. He squeezed the grip on Davide's hand so intently that it rendered the firearm completely useless, as it slipped from the kid's finger. As Davide looked up, he stared directly into the barrel of Jackson's Walther PPK, as it hovered a foot above his forehead. Jackson didn't need to look up off of Davide to know the guards had their guns trained on his back, but the wild stare in his eyes suggested he wasn't all there.

"Enough! Everyone!" William shouted in anger, his fist slamming against his desk.

Jackson's finger hugged the trigger so tightly, that even a strong breeze could send a round directly into Davide's skull. Although through his eyes, he wasn't looking down at Davide, he was looking at every man who had ever hurt anyone he cared about. He was looking into the eyes of Tommy's killer, a man who murdered his apprentice right beside him. "Hey, look," Davide began, but he stumbled over his words as soon as they left his trembling lips. The terror in Davide's eyes couldn't even begin to compare to the murderous stare Jackson held.

Jackson's thumb slowly returned the hammer back to the pistol, as his finger slid off the trigger. This kid wasn't worth it, not when Syd and Conor would be at the mercy of a vengeful Toni. He rose from his crouched position after tucking the Walther away and with Davide's Hi-Power in his hand, the animalistic expressions gradually fading. He pressed the magazine release to the Browning, which dropped the plastic directly onto Davide's stomach. He then racked the slide back, ejecting the bullet in the chamber. After tossing the handgun to the corner of the room, he raised his hands by his head to signify he was no longer a threat. From the corner of his eye, Jackson's suspicions were confirmed with the guard's handguns trained directly on his back. He didn't pay them any notice and instead looked to Conor and Syd with a sturdy nod.

"This meeting is over! You and your family are no longer welcomed in this club," William spitefully pointed to Conor, before his finger traced to Toni, "and I want you and your son out of here now!" Toni nodded apologetically, as he had no control over Davide's action.

Misty Gray Misty Gray (Conor) Pyroclast Pyroclast (Syd)
 
Last edited:
Syd Porter

1601301520570.png Syd scoffed at Davide’s jeering insult, his own hatred for the man expressed through nothing more than a bemused frown. Perhaps it would have made him feel small had it come from a man visibly older than himself, but Davide did not look far off thirty, which put too much irony in his choice of words for Syd to take offence. What he did have to take seriously, however, was the tension in the room. Davide really was ready to fight, and Jackson had a hand resting not-so-subtly on his holster. One wrong word and that tension could break in an instant.

It almost did when William revealed a glimpse of his temper, his brewing frustration finally rising to the surface. It turned out that the attack on Corleones’ club was not appreciated by Campbell at all. In fact, to him it seemed to represent an attack not just on the enemy but on the very concept of peace itself. Syd couldn’t help but glower at the man for his disrespect. William went on regardless, speaking steadily and with conviction as he explained the extent of Corleones' involvement with the Morettis. For some reason Syd hadn’t expected the man to be capable of such audacity, bringing together two sides of an on-going war, all of them armed, and still daring to counsel them like they were children picking fights on the school playground. His nerves were more potent than the alcohol on his breath and Syd was just waiting for Jackson or Conor to give him a reason to jump.

In the end, Conor instead gave yet another display of his newfound self-control. It wasn’t that it didn’t suit him - it had even saved Syd from a beating after he had punched the man himself - but this was exactly the kind of situation that made Syd wish his uncle would take a more violent stance. His mouth was filled with venom that he wanted nothing more than to spit in their faces, and yet he had to follow his boss’ lead. There was nothing amicable about the way their business was ending, but Conor was making a point to at least end it calmly and Syd had to honour that whether he liked it or not.

The termination of their family partnership may have moved Campbell somewhat, but not Syd - he was distracted by Davide’s ferocious energy that looked like it was about to burst out of him. And then it happened - the young man’s hand flung outwards, brandishing a semi-automatic that pointed right at Conor’s face. It all happened in a split second: Syd instinctively dived out of his seat, flinging his arms around his uncle and forcing him to one side just as a deafening bang exploded through the room. When he looked up, Jackson had Davide pinned to the ground, forcing the man to stare down the barrel of his Walther PPK. The hand that Syd had on Conor’s back came away red, but it was only wine - his godfather had set the bullet off course so that it hit the pitcher behind them. Breathing heavily, Syd jumped to his feet and aimed his Ruger Blackhawk directly at Toni Corleone with a wild but serious glare in his eyes that let him know he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if he or his guards went for Jackson.

Before anything happened to trigger a domino effect of gunfire, William desperately called the meeting to an end. Syd lowered his revolver only once Jackson got to his feet and returned his godfather’s firm nod with one of his own. His eyes weren’t free of their fierce expression, however, and when he turned back to William they shone with distaste. “You sure showed a lot of guts tonight, Campbell,” Syd growled, slotting the Ruger back into his holster. “Let this shitshow be a lesson to you never to try anything like this again.”

Even with the Corleones gone, Syd could feel his anger begin to boil over just as Davide’s had a moment ago. He didn’t feel so sentimental about letting go of their business with William Campbell, only furious that it had to end under such ridiculous and frankly idiotic circumstances. Without shaking the man’s hand, Syd made his own exit, staying alert in case the Corleones were waiting in ambush to continue the meeting on their own terms. But he made it out of the club in which they were ‘no longer welcome’, out onto the street and over towards their car, where he wasted no time in lighting up a cigarette. Smoke fumed from his nostrils with the ferocity of a murderous dragon. “Jesus fucking Christ!” Syd ripped the white stick from between his lips and huffed out a cloud of smoke. “What the fuck was that, man! Lecturing us about peace as if we don’t give a shit about this damn city falling apart around us? Doesn’t he know what we’ve lost, what we’ve been through? Now - now he’s trying to get us to shake hands with fucking shitbag Corleones as if we can all just put everything behind us and live happily ever after.” Syd gave an exasperated laugh, reaching up and tugging at fistfuls of his hair. The backs of his eyes began to burn and he drew another strong inhale of his cigarette, subconsciously shaken by having almost lost his uncle. “How can he have worked alongside our family for so long and still not understand that it doesn’t fucking work like that!”

Interactions
Misty Gray Misty Gray Conor
Enzyme Enzyme Jackson
 
Conor Sullivan

10f2a55694fa8acc67a52f54a851ee1b.jpgWith his elbow resting against the chair arm, Conor rested his chin on the knuckle of his clenched fist. His fingertips were practically digging into the palm of his hand as he forced the back the building urge to let off some steam, especially in the direction of the Corleones. Conor consciously kept his eyes fixed on William, watching as the Scottish man made something of a toast before knocking back his drink. Liam and James might have maintained an alliance with the Campbells, but this was the first time Conor had met William, and given what had just transpired, he wasn't feeling any kind of regret his predecessors might have had. He could not trust those who would invite an enemy into the same room, never mind those in alliance with them.

Before Conor could think about getting up to leave, the room suddenly fell into chaos. In the split second he saw the handgun aimed at him he also heard the gunshot being fired from the weapon in question. He wouldn't have had time to dodge it, but thankfully Jackson had been eyeing Davide the whole time and was quick enough to redirect the man's aim exactly when it mattered. Syd had also been quick to react, wrapping his arms around his uncle to drag him away from the intended path of the bullet. Despite being caught by surprise, Conor let out something of a growl as he realised what had happened. When Syd moved away to aim his gun at Toni, Conor recovered himself and got to his feet. Seeing the splashes of red of his shirt caused him to quickly check himself. Despite not feeling any pain, it was still a reflex to check he hadn't actually been hit by the bullet. He was about to check Jackson and Syd hadn't been hit either, but he soon noticed the broken glass pitcher which had been smashed by the impact of the bullet instead and sent red wine splashing over the room.

There was a part of Conor that wanted Jackson and Syd to pull the trigger on the Corleones, but knowing the two armed guards were present, the only possible outcome he could imagine was his best friend and nephew ending up dead on the office floor. It was for that reason Conor returned his own gun to its holster, having unconsciously grabbed it ready to fire. With William's angry shout and fist slamming on the desk, Conor turned to the two guards. "You too. Aim those fucking guns away from my family," he said, referring to Jackson and Syd. Eventually, Jackson retreated, confirming he wasn't going to put a bullet in Corleone's son. Conor returned Jackson's nod before looking to William as the man officially ended the meeting and informed the Irish they were no longer welcome. As Toni and Davide left the room, Conor stared the younger man down, imagining the many ways he'd like to get revenge on the bastard for the attempt on his life.

As he walked to the door with Jackson and Syd, Conor briefly paused and turned to look at William. "What a fucking disappointment," he said, shaking his head at the man before following on behind the others. Beneath the anger, it hadn't quite hit Conor how close he had been to getting killed, nor the impact that would have on Aliana and their children. There was a lot of pent up aggression building inside that Conor hadn't been able to let out, not without risking the lives of Jackson and Syd. As Syd lit up a cigarette and set about letting out his clear frustrations verbally, Conor seemed to be quietly listening. The words were registering with Conor, but his focus was being split with his own inner aggression. "Because it was easier for William before. The minute there's competition in New York, he turns into a selfish fucking coward."

They were almost at the car when the nearby trashcan bore the initial brunt of Conor's anger. His heavy foot slamming into the side of the rubbish container ripped it from wall it was attached to and sent it crashing on the floor. His fist was being held in a tight ball and ready to be smashed through the glass of the public phonebooth, before he caught himself and retracted his arm. He took a deep breath to control himself. He wondered if this was how difficult it had been for James. To be reduced to keeping a level head and playing along with wankers in meetings whilst rendering himself a sitting duck. Something about being protected by Jackson and Syd didn't feel natural to him. His natural state was to be attacking and not having others rushing to his defence.

Thinking about such a position brought Conor back to the heart of the gesture, nevertheless. He knew that without Jackson's quick thinking, he wouldn't be walking around now, and Syd's quick gesture had also been intended to save his life. Before anyone could get into the car, Conor put his arm around Jackson's shoulder and pulled the man in for a hug, patting him on the back as he showed his gratitude. "Thank you, mate. I owe you," he sincerely told him. Breaking away from Jackson, he gave Syd the same embrace. "You too, lad," he told him. He then took a deep breath as he opened the passenger door. "Let's not rush to tell our other halves about this," he exhaustedly suggested.

Once they were sat in the car, Conor smoothed out his stained shirt and slowly shook his head, still reeling from what had happened. "When the odds aren't stacked against us like they just were, I'm coming back for those Italian fuckers. If that little piss-ant thinks he can try kill me without any consequence... I'm going to smash the little prick's head into pieces," he ranted.

Enzyme Enzyme (Jackson)
Pyroclast Pyroclast (Syd)
 
Jasmine Carpenter

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Whilst she was doing a pretty good job at blocking out the discomfort, Jasmine wasn't doing so well at containing the loss of blood from her punctured thigh. She listened to the first exchanges of words, taking a moment to adjust the hand that was covering her wound. Hearing Lyle speak to confirm he was the one who had stabbed her distracted Chase from locking the door and he instead expressed his anger at the man for hurting Jasmine. "You stupid arsehole. Too scared to face us fair and square," she bitterly snapped at Lyle, echoing Chase's disgust.

The door suddenly flung open, turning the restroom into some kind of cramped venue for a brawl. She gasped as Chase was was punched, but he thankfully reacted to resist the enemy's attempt at gaining possession of his knife. Jasmine didn't get chance to assist Chase as the second new arrival made a beeline for her. As he attempted to wrap his arm around her neck, she managed to dodge him the first attempt and then resist against his hold the second. However, when he stuck his ring in her stab wound, she lost her guard, causing her to cry out and tightly close her eyes to block out the pain. This gave the attacker enough opportunity to tighten his hold around her neck. Jasmine continued to struggle against him, the attempts only putting more pressure on her bleeding leg.

Jasmine had watched Chase push the other man into Lyle, so when the apparent-ringleader's gun went off, she wasn't taken by surprise. The man holding her was taken by surprise and he loosened his hold to take cover, ducking behind her so she would shield him from any potential bullet. Jasmine jabbed her elbow backwards, sending it colliding painfully into the man's right eye. She then grabbed the wrist of his arm that had only just been around her neck, twisting it it enough to hear a crack accompanied by the man's pained yelp.

Jasmine took a deep breath before accepting Chase's offered hand and limping slightly to his side whilst he kept his gun trained on her attacker. By now, her trouser leg was wet down the outside, with blood starting to trickle down the side of her shoe and onto the tiled white floor. She noticed the cut under Chase's eyes and sent him a concerned look, but she stopped herself from speaking up in the present circumstances. She forced herself to focus her attention on Lyle as Chase addressed him, not wanting to show weakness to her attacker's face.

"Ah, we're done. Except for her leg, I hadn't planned on making a mess of this room," Lyle remarked when asked in they were done. When his presence in the club was questioned, Lyle smiled to Chase. Even without his gun, he felt he had the upper hand over the Sullivan employees. "My friend is waiting backstage for you or the other guys to find him. Assuming they did find him, he will have asked them for the details of Sullivan's contacts in Cuba, as well as where the drug shipments are coming into in New York. Do you think your friends would have found him yet, because I'd say this needs to be resolved pretty quickly," he said, pointing to Jasmine's leg. "My friend and I will be leaving this club with the details we require. If we're both not out of here in one piece, then my colleagues hiding out in this club will open fire on that dancefloor full of oblivious fools." Lyle let out a faint smile. "Do you think your friends will hand over the details we need? I'd hope they wouldn't try to be clever and give out false information. Lives are riding on those contacts checking out." Lyle smiled between Chase and Jasmine. "Maybe leave her in here. She'll only slow you down and draw the crowd's attention, but maybe you should go tell your friends to be quick?" he suggested to Chase.

Pyroclast Pyroclast (Chase)
 

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