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

[Misty Gray]

Kerry Patrick​

Despite the natural urge to stay backed away from Chase, the moment he ordered her to sit down, Kerry complied without hesitation. Even knowing Maddox and Ani were nearby did nothing to reassure the young woman now. She felt as alone as she had when she'd been locked in a basement, tortured by Steve and Amato. She bit down on her bottom lip as she forced herself to try comply with Chase's other order, which was to stop crying. Despite only hours ago believing the Irish were not monsters like the Italians, it meant nothing now she was standing face-to-face with a man who she had been forced to betray.

Kerry folded her arms tightly around herself as she consciously made sure to keep looking at Chase, scared if she looked away it would make him angrier. She quickly nodded her head when he asked if she understood where she was, but still listened intently as he continued speaking about the safehouse. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest as he spoke of how the police and Morettis couldn't find her. She didn't want to contradict Chase, but she still feared Gabriel would get to her as he promised he would if she betrayed him. In a way, she still believed if the Sullivans were to kill her now it would be a mercy compared to what the Morettis would have lined up for her.

When Chase told her eleven people had died, Kerry could no longer contain her tears. She quietly sobbed as he made sure she knew their deaths were on her. She was also responsible for the grief of their families. "I'm sorry," she desperately cried. Already unable to see how she could live after being tortured and witnessing the massacre in the jazz club, she now had eleven deaths on her own conscience. If the rest hadn't been too much, the guilt surely would be.

When Chase asked her questions, opening it up for her to speak, she took a moment to calm down her trembling and crying enough that she could actually speak. "I can't ask you to excuse me for what I've done, but this wasn't as simple as having a choice," she said, quickly shaking her head. "I don't know if your protection works, but I do know what Mr. Moretti is capable of. If I have to, I will beg you not to hand me back to that monster. I will beg you to just kill me right now - at least then I will be free of what now lives in my mind and weighs on my conscience. I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but please don't let those animals take me again." Kerry let out a strained sob before forcing herself to breathe deeply and regain some composure. "All I did was go to work one day and I had to watch as people were shot dead, the rest were left to burn alive in that club. As I was tortured, threatened and starved for days, I started to wish I'd just been killed with the others. I was going to be sold to some sick creep before Mr. Moretti found another use for me. So when Mr. Moretti told me he would be able to hunt me down, after everything I've seen and been exposed to since that day I went to work, I believed him. I believed nobody else - not you or the cops - could stop him. He won't kill me, but he will make me go through it all again and sell me as those monsters had originally planned." Kerry sniffled and sucked in a deep breath. "I know what I have done is wrong and nobody, not even myself, can forgive me for this. But I'm begging you not to hand me back to Moretti. I would rather you killed me than have to go through it all again. Please!"

Pyroclast (Chase)

 

[Misty Gray]

Sinead Callahan​

When Blake gripped her tightly, Sinead maintained her embrace, softly rubbing the woman's back as she continued to try comfort her. "I know, sweetie. I know," she gently cooed into Blake's ear as the woman's voice got louder mentioning how Jackson always came home. "He would have done everything he could to come home to you." Sinead's own eyes were already filled with tears as she listened to Blake, but she remained composed for the sake of staying strong to support her friend. "You can do this, honey. I know you can," she continued to reassure her, though Blake's words and cries were getting louder, likely blocking out Sinead's words. She continued to hug her, placing a kiss on the side of her head. "We're all here for you. I'll be there for you in Dublin too," she promised Blake.

Blake quietened down and Sinead loosened her hold, though still embraced Blake for as long as the woman wanted her to. When the blonde released her, Sinead sat forward a little but turned so she could look sideways to Blake. She reached out and held Blake's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as the woman quietly processed the news. For a time, it seemed like Blake had switched off from the rest of the room, but Sinead didn't interrupt her, knowing it was a lot to take in. Sinead had lost loved ones and she'd witnessed people around her grieve for loved ones, so she knew people dealt with loss in different ways. She didn't want to deprive Blake of processing Jackson's death the way her heart and mind needed her to.

Sinead gazed down to her hands until she felt Blake's focus was back with her. When the woman spoke to say she could get through this, the redhead looked back to her and reassuringly nodded in agreement. "I know you can, honey." She didn't hesitate to return Blake's need for another hug, wrapping her arms around the woman as she started crying again. "You can do this, I know you can. But as long as you need comfort and support, there's no shortage of people around here to help you."

Bellz (Blake)

 

[Pyroclast]

Chase Zegarra

Despite his harsh words, it gave Chase no pleasure to see Kerry suffer for what she had done. He didn’t get a rise out of her crying, nor was it his intention to hurt her - he was simply a realist who did what had to be done. And this time, with the damage being irreversible, there was little else he could do besides tell her the grave truth. He watched with a stony expression as she cried, offering no comfort. Even though he could empathise to an extent, he couldn’t lie and tell her that what had happened was okay. Instead he just let her explain her side of the story.

It took some effort to not let her words move him. The experiences she was describing were far from anything Chase had ever been subjected to. For all the fights he had been in and lives he had claimed, he still had no idea of how tough he would be when faced with that level of torture. As soon as she mentioned begging for death to escape the guilt Chase grimaced slightly, realising he might end up responsible for another death if he carried on chastising her.

“Just take a deep breath, Kerry,” he calmly instructed her, letting out a sigh of his own. “Until I have new orders, my job is to protect you from the enemy. I’m not here to look after you and I’m not going to kill you, either - unless Conor tells me to. You can beg for whatever you want, but I won’t hear you.” His eyes fell to his jacket as he reached to withdraw a pack of cigarettes and he didn't look regain eye contact until after he had lit one up. “You are young, you should have a long future ahead of you,” he muttered. "If it were up to me, I'd fly you to Canada and tell you to never look back." He took a deep drag, directing the smoke out of the side of his mouth so as not to make a point of blowing it in Kerry’s face. As he twisted round to find the ashtray, he spotted a box of tissues on the table and tossed it over to her so she could clean herself up a bit. “Listen, I know it’s not your fault you got caught up in this mess," he sighed. "If it means anything to you, I wish you didn’t through any of this, either. Sometimes life takes the wheel, right? You end up somewhere you don’t wanna be and there’s nothing you can do until it’s too late. You were forced to make a decision you weren’t qualified to make and lives were lost as a consequence - but you have to learn to live with that now. I hope to God you make it out of this alive, because it would be a waste if you let this ruin you. It’s always better to heal than escape. Just understand, Kerry, you’re not gonna be popular here anymore, not with anyone. So make good use of this counsellor while you’re locked up here. You’re gonna need the help.”

Interactions
Misty Gray Kerry

 

[Misty Gray]

Chapter 19: The Homeland
Saturday 11th March 1972
...2 weeks later…
Late Afternoon - Clear, Sunny, Mild

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Moretti Family Home
~ Staten Island, NYC ~
​

Valentina Moretti

Every day for the last two weeks had been a challenge for Valentina. Knowing her father had Steve in captivity and not being permitted to go anywhere near the man who attacked her was difficult. Whilst deep down she knew it was for her own good, it didn't make the desperation go away. She wanted to know he was suffering, but more than that, she wanted to know Steve was dead and nobody would have to see his twisted face again. It seemed that today would finally be the day, with Gabriel, Marcus and Teddy leaving hours earlier to deal with the bastard for good. Valentina wasn't about to deny or sugarcoat the fact she wanted Steve to suffer, to die a painful death. She had said as much to her family on numerous occasions. Perhaps once the night was over she would be able to relax and feel able to focus more on trying to move on with her life.

Valentina had been grateful for the support of her family and friends, even if she had come to blows with her father on a few occasions. Not only was her family doing well at helping her, but Teddy had certainly brought some light her way too. Though it was early days in her recovery and their relationship, Teddy gave her hope for a normal future and she was intrigued to see how things would play out between them. She hoped her heart was right and the faith she'd put into the man would be rewarded.

As the men of the family were out doing what needed to be done, Valentina and Tatiana had arranged to spend some much needed sister-time together that evening. As she waited for her sister to return home from her own duties, Valentina had decided to distract herself by preparing dinner for them. She had made two pizzas ready to cook when Tatiana arrived home and had just finished making a cherry pie when another headache kicked in. Despite the discomfort the headache brought, she was determined to finish. After carefully putting the pie in the oven, mindful of the weakened wrist that was still healing beneath the bandages, she finally retreated to the lounge to rest a little. Hoping to ease the headache, she closed her eyes for a little moment and curled up on the sofa. Though her sleep was improving, she still woke most nights and struggled to get back to sleep. The lack of proper rest was the reason she ended up falling asleep in that moment...

Valentina suddenly woke up to the smell of burning and almost rolled off the sofa as she scrambled up to rush into the kitchen where she the smell intensified. She switched off the oven and pulled open the door, using a towel to waft away the smoke. She let out a frustrated groan whilst pushing open the kitchen windows to let some air in. "Fucking useless..." she grumbled as she tossed the towel across the worktop. She'd been hoping to prove a point by doing something for her family instead of them looking out for her so much, but instead she felt she'd failed miserably. She left the now black pie into the oven to cool down and instead slumped down at the kitchen table. Hopefully the pizzas would be enough of a treat for her and Tatiana.

​

Pyroclast (Tatiana)

Jasmine's Apartment
~ Hunters Point, Brooklyn ~
​

Jasmine Carpenter

The day after the ambush at the train station, Jasmine finally returned to her own place after being away on jobs for a few days and sleeping at the safehouse. It was only then that the news reached her that her father had been killed in prison two days earlier. The official story was that her father had been stabbed to death during a prison fight and a prisoner already serving multiple life sentencing was charged with his murder. Nice and convenient, she'd figured. It hadn't taken much asking around to come to what Jasmine considered was the truth, that Joseph's death had indeed been arranged by the East Harlem lot when they'd been threatening to gun down everyone in The Lomax. It made sense to her, as whilst she was being held hostage in the abandoned police station, Ethan had made numerous taunting references towards her imprisoned father. At the time, she'd brushed it off as merely Ethan bluffing and trying to get a rise out of her.

Given his own grief, Conor hadn't hesitated to give Jasmine a couple of weeks break from the job so she could deal with her personal life. In all honesty, she wasn't as devastated as she'd imagine she would be, no doubt because she'd known for a long time her father would die in prison, whether through old age or killed by another prisoner. Given his reputation as one of Liam's former employees, it had always been a matter of when.

The funeral had been a couple of days ago. Just a simple, small send off with Jasmine and her mother, along with some friends Joseph had picked up over the years. Whilst Jasmine was glad to see her mother, she was more grateful when the woman eventually left and returned to Boston a few hours ago. It felt like her mother had only come along to nag Jasmine about turning her back on the mob, but she would never get her way on that and Jasmine certainly couldn't manage more than a few days living with her mother away from any action.

Once she was sure she was rid of any further guests, Jasmine got in touch with Chase and invited him over. She hadn't seen him for days and was hoping he hadn't felt pushed away during the stress of getting her father's affairs in order. Not to mention the fact she didn't want to expose the poor man to her mother so early in their blossoming relationship.

Pyroclast (Chase)

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

 

[Pyroclast]

Chapter 19: The Homeland
Saturday 11th March 1972
...2 weeks later…
Late Afternoon - Clear, Sunny, Mild

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New York City Hospital
~ Manhattan ~

...The day after the ambush...​

Alistair Sawyer and Steve Kelly

Alistair was so used to having work to do that he felt his lengthy hospital stay was beginning to numb his mind. He knew it wasn’t wise to conduct business in a public space, which is why he had handed his responsibilities over to Ethan until he was able to get back to headquarters, but as a naturally ambitious man, the lack of productivity on his part was causing him stress. As the days dragged on, he found himself looking forward to Ethan’s visits, if nothing but to get him out of his head and give him something to focus on. The next visit would be an especially important one; he was waiting to hear the news that the Sullivans had been defeated and that the pillars of their empire had been knocked down in battle, leaving only their wives and children to mourn them. This time, however, when he looked up from his newspaper at the nurse’s announcement, it wasn’t Ethan standing at the door.

“Steve?”

The younger man’s eyes widened as he stepped into the room, adding to his wild appearance. “Woah!” he said, failing to hold back a grin. “I didn’t think it’d be this bad. You’re so much smaller!”

“Steve, stop,” he warned, but the man was busy gawking at Alistair’s new physique. He walked closer to the hospital bed, happy to intrude. “What does it feel like having no legs?” Steve asked. “Does it hurt when I do this?” He did a soft karate chop on the mattress where Alistair’s ankle would have been.

Somehow holding his composure, Alistair glared up at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here, Steve? Ethan’s the only one with permission to visit me.”

“Oh, Ethan’s dead.”

Steve sniffed loudly and rubbed at his nose with his knuckles, his mind seemingly on other things. His tone was so nonchalant that Alistair wasn’t convinced that he had meant what he had said.

“What?”

“Yeah, that’s why I came,” Steve answered, turning his back on the man to wander about the recovery room in search of something to fiddle with. “Figured someone oughta’ tell ya’. That ambush down at the station was a total blast, man, I swear I actually saw fear in that Sullivan guy’s face when we slaughtered his family!” Steve snorted with laughter, but it quickly died when he turned back to see Alistair’s murderous glare fixed on him. The room fell silent as Steve’s eyes went back to wandering, decidedly more interested in the wires and buttons around him than receiving his boss’ wrath.

“Don’t touch those! What are you, five years old?” Alistair snapped, having to lean over to tug a tube out of Steve’s hands. The younger man sniffed again, the last sign Alistair needed to tell that he was high. Given the shade of dirt left on his cheek and his greasy mop of curls, he wasn’t so sure he had even slept or showered since all the excitement of the night before. So this is what I’m left with? he thought with a sigh. Ani, Ammon, Luke and now Ethan were all gone in one way or another. It was strange how the silence he had longed to escape was now exactly what he wanted. There wasn’t time to let Ethan’s death sink in as long as Steve was present; if he let the silence drag on for even a few seconds longer, the troublemaker would find some way of entertaining himself and Alistair had no desire to find out what that would mean.

“You know, I think it’s time I checked out of this godforsaken place,” he grumbled, reaching above his head to pummel his pillow into shape.

“Thank god,” Steve sighed. “I didn’t wanna have to come visit you in here.”

“Steve, will you shut your goddamn mouth! Now that Ethan’s gone, you and I are gonna have to have a talk. And if you want to stay in my good books, you’re gonna have to step up, son. Quit the drugs. Yeah, I know - did you think I can’t tell? Or just that I don’t care?”

Steve’s drifting eyes landed on Alistair’s for a moment before he gave a shrug and said, “No, it’s just...that I don’t care.”

“Well, maybe you should.”

“Boss, with all due respect, it’s hard to fear a man who’s got no legs.”

Alistair glowered at him, drawing in a deep breath. “I know you’ve been paying more attention than that, Steve, so don’t try to be funny with me or you’ll be dead before you can make it to your nearest whorehouse.” He knew there was no point expecting to shake the man - after all, he was close to being cognitively incapable of fear - but Steve was naturally provocative and Alistair could rarely get through a conversation with him without dishing out some kind of threat. Unfortunately, with East Harlem in a weakened position, there weren’t many people left that he could rely on.

“You are valuable to me, Steve,” he reluctantly admitted. “You’re annoying, as wild as they come, you can’t keep your dick in your pants for five minutes and I’m pretty sure you’ve got more cocaine in your system than you’ve got brain cells. But whether you’re doing this because you give a shit about what I want, or if it’s simply that I give you opportunities to do what you want, the fact is you get the job done.”

“Alright,” Steve shrugged, unable to deny any of his boss' observations.

“I need you to start working with Gabriel, Steve, and you can’t be yourself around him, you hear me? You need to get serious. Stop fucking around. Literally, stop fucking around. You got that?”

Steve was busy opening cupboards and tipping out the contents of random boxes he found, but Alistair could tell he was listening by the frown that appeared on his face. “Why’d I gotta do that?” he sulked.

“Because Ethan is FUCKING DEAD, YOU MORONIC PIECE OF SHIT!” Seeing a perfect opportunity to unleash his frustration, Alistair grabbed the jug of water on his bedside table and threw it at Steve, hitting him hard on the back before it smashed at his feet.

“Jesus, fucking…” he recoiled, shaking the water off his shirt before returning Alistair’s glare. “Tell me that wasn’t a piss jug.”

Even more frustrated that the act had used up more strength than expected, Alistair continued his tirade. “There is no point in throwing this away, Steve. I may have lost my legs and my arm but I sure as hell ain’t about to quit, so you stop acting like I’m dead or it’ll be your life next - and believe me, there’ll be nobody mourning your sorry ass. We’re working alongside one of the most powerful gangs on the east coast, and we’re getting something out of it that’s not worth giving up. You included, Steve. Like it or not, if you wanna keep doing this and getting those rewards, you’ve gotta be the one to represent East Harlem on my behalf. If you stop paying attention now, Moretti’s gonna notice, and he’s not a patient man. He’ll kill you before I get the chance.”

Although his words had finally captured Steve’s attention, the younger man wasn’t moved enough to keep his eyes from straying back to the empty space on the hospital bed. From the way he bit down on his lip, Alistair could tell he was holding back some kind of joke about his newfound immobility.

“Got something you want to say, Steve?” he asked, raising a weary eyebrow at the man.

“...Nope.”

“Good. Now, call Moretti and arrange a meeting with him tomorrow. Tell him what I told you, that you’re representing East Harlem. Make sure you give him a reason to take you seriously. I’ll be back at headquarters before the end of the week.”

Alistair's Penthouse
~ East Harlem ~
​

It turned out to take a lot longer than Alistair expected for the hospital to discharge him. In fact, complications with the surgery arose not long after Steve left, causing the East Harlem boss to suffer a minor heart attack. On top of that, he was also held for psychiatric evaluation as part of the standard procedure following traumatic amputation. Despite his violent upbringing and sadistic ways, Alistair had always had a sturdy mental disposition. Even when he felt tensions rise among his enemies and allies, there wasn’t much he doubted he could handle without really losing his nerve. Once he made sense of something, he could usually compartmentalise it, and instead of worrying he would scheme his way out of a problem. The attack from Ani, while unexpected, at least made sense to him; she wanted to claim freedom and take revenge on her brother’s killer. Alistair had accepted that he didn’t want to go after her, and had also decided that being caught off guard in a brutal attack wasn’t a reflection of weakness on his part. What disturbed him was the suddenness of the loss, having to watch his limbs be crushed and ripped apart by a savage dog.

Confined from the outside world, business became unexpectedly irrelevant. It was hard to process Ethan’s death or even feel his absence when the man didn’t belong in the hospital anyway. His health issues became too demanding to ruminate over all the problems that existed beyond his hospital bed, and with all the treatment, evaluations and mandatory rest keeping him from receiving visitors, it was a few days before he even heard the news that Steve had disappeared. Alistair did wonder if he had wound up dead somewhere, but he would have expected Gabriel to get in touch with him if something had happened. In fact, he found it suspicious that Moretti hadn’t contacted him at all. Given what he had allowed Steve to do with his daughter, it wasn’t unlikely that he had ended up in Gabriel’s hands. Sooner or later, Alistair knew the man would come for him, too.

“How about you fix us a drink instead?” he suggested, taking her hands and gently guiding them away from his chest. “I’ve got to get used to doing things on my own.”

“No alcohol for you,” the nurse reminded him as she stood up from his side, leaving him to do up the buttons of his shirt with one hand. “Not until you’ve finished your course, remember?”

Alistair grunted in response, not used to taking orders even from doctors. “A cigar, then,” he said. “Light one up for me, would you?”

“What happened to ‘doing things on my own’?” she teased with a smile.

“I want to watch you do it.”

The nurse raised her eyebrows at him in mock-disapproval, but she only saw Alistair’s patient, weary gaze staring back at her from his wheelchair and felt no desire to argue. She crossed the open-plan floor of his penthouse, the light of the setting sun shimmering across the skin of her back. While there were plenty of business-related problems for Alistair to mull over, it was hard to focus when he had care workers with him at all times to monitor his health and help him adjust to life in a wheelchair. It had only been four days since his return but he had barely made any progress on tracking down Steve or sorting out Ethan’s business. Instead he was at home, receiving unorthodox examinations from a scantily clad nurse, completely off the books.

When she turned back around, there was a lit cigar in her mouth and she leaned back against the island counter to blow a cloud of smoke into the air above her head. Posing in her lingerie in the dimly lit room, she didn’t really look like a nurse at all - more like a movie star. Her sultry eyes eventually returned to his and she slowly drew herself back towards him to crouch at his side. Too tired to play any more games, Alistair gave no comment, only opening his mouth to accept the cigar as she leaned in and placed it between his teeth.

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Enzyme

 

[Bellz]

Chapter 19: The Homeland
Saturday 11th March 1972
...2 weeks later…
Late Afternoon - Clear, Sunny, Mild


Ireland - McCarthy House

Blake McCarthy ​

Blake had been in pieces over the last couple of weeks. The grief over losing Jackson was the worst pain she had ever felt in her life. The first few days after she found out, she didn't get out of bed. Her body ached everywhere and for a short period of time, before she snapped out of it, she thought she would be better off with him. Life without him was unfamiliar and planning his funeral felt horribly wrong but it had to be done. Telling Natasha that her father was dead was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do in her life and the pain that radiated from the girl each day only made Blake feel worse.

Today was the wake and Blake didn't feel ready for it, though she figured she never would at this point. Everyone kept telling her that it would finally bring some closure to it all but Blake knew that getting any closure with this was still very very far away. Returning back to their home had been extremely hard for her as she had thought that the three of them were going to be home together when they finally left for Ireland. It seemed that life had other plans for them all, however. With the comfort of friends who were as good as family, Blake was able to pull together a wake that Jackson would have wanted. Good food, lots of alcohol, and being surrounded by those who were closest to them all. The wake was set to be the best it could possibly be given this horrible situation.

Blake was standing in Jackson and her bedroom, dressed in formal black attire. She was currently standing in front of the mirror with little Natasha squinting and tensing her face as the woman brushed out the tangles in her wet hair. "Hold still, love." Blake said weakly before pulling the girl's hair into a pony and tying it securely with a hairband. "I don't want to do go, mam." Natasha told Blake as she continued to squint and wiggle around. "I don't either, love. But we have to say goodbye. I know you don't want to go but we have to." Natasha's eyes watered and Blake felt like she was about to lose it. Clearing her throat, Blake moved to crouch down in front of her daughter before pulling her in for a tight hug. "Everything is going to be okay, love. We will get through this together."

"He's not coming back?" Natasha asked her mother for what seemed like the millionth time. Every time she asked, it broke Blake's heart. "No, love. He's not. But he's watching over us from above. He'll keep us safe like he always has from right up there." Blake murmured as she pointed to the sky. "He's an angel remember?"

Natasha nodded her little head before Blake moved to pick her up, resting her on her hip. "Let's go greet everyone yea?" She asked and Natasha once again nodded her head before burying her face into Blake's shoulder, already beginning to cry. Blake's lip trembled as she pushed open her door and headed towards the stairs. Once she was down the stairs, Blake looked around for whoever was closest to her.
with: Misty Gray ; Melanin-Gxdess ; Pyroclast ; Me

 

[Misty Gray]

Moretti Base - Basement
~ Tribeca, Manhattan ~
​

Gabriel Moretti

It had been almost two weeks since Gabriel had Steve ambushed on his way towards a supposed meeting with the Moretti boss. The man was heavily beaten and dragged into the back of the van where he was taken to the Tribeca base. Not too dissimilar to the conditions Steve had happily let Kerry suffer in, the man had been kept in a small dark room in a cold and damp basement for all of those two weeks. Steve was left in nothing but his underwear and a corner of the room to shit in. The only visitors he had were two masked guards who would force him to eat and drink enough to survive. Enough to keep the man coherent and fully conscious of everything around him for when Gabriel wanted the animal to hear him. But in all of those two weeks, Gabriel had not graced Steve with his presence and his men were ordered not to engage in conversation with the man. Better to leave him alone with only his own thoughts, if his mind was even capable of cognitive function to begin with.

It had been two weeks and one day since Valentina had told Gabriel that Steve had been the second and the most depraved of the two men who had attacked her. The atmosphere around the Moretti home had been on edge since, with it often feeling like an argument between Gabriel and Valentina was ready go off at any given second. Gabriel understood his daughter's personal need to watch Steve get what he deserved, as he'd spent enough time wanting the same for the Porters. However, he also knew what Valentina had been through couldn't be compared and as much he hated to deprive her of vengeance, he was certain she would not handle being in the presence of Steve. Gabriel knew the vile man well enough, because for a while, the East Harlem freaks had been useful to him and had served their purpose in helping him with his own goals. Gabriel knew he could live with that knowledge, even if he did carry some guilt for indirectly putting his daughter in danger. He knew the last two weeks had been difficult for everyone, but Gabriel hadn't wanted to give Steve a quick end. He was patient enough to let the weeks pass without giving in to any urge to confront him. Gabriel only wished to see the man once and that would be when he was there to kill him, knowing any more would merely entertain Steve's warped mind further. The hardest part of the wait was knowing Valentina wasn't so patient, but instead desperate to know the animal was finally dead. Tonight, Gabriel intended to grant that wish.

Gabriel had brought Marcus and Teddy with him, knowing they both had the motivation to ensure Steve paid for what he done. Still, before opening the steel door to the basement, Gabriel stopped and turned to them both. "If you want to back out, now is the time to do it. Once we're down there, I don't want there to be any hesitation or doubts. Nothing to feed that freak's ego. Understand?" he asked. When finally got down into the basement, two armed guards stood silently by the stairs having fulfilled their orders so far and now doing as instructed by remaining silent in the background. Having been dragged out of the small room he'd been kept in for the last two weeks, Steve had been forced to sit in in the centre of the larger room on a wooden chair with his hands strapped to the chair arms. An overhead iron pipe that ran along the ceiling had a couple of ropes ties around it, suggesting Steve might not spend the whole time seated.

Gabriel didn't address Steve, for now walking the perimeter of the room to check everything he'd arranged was in order. At either side of the dirty metal sink were buckets filled with water. Further along the counter top were an array of knives and tools, matches, lighter fluid and some old rags. Walking across the room to the shelving, Gabriel scanned the goods there; mostly appearing as junk; such as cleaning products and hardware, but could still be useful with the right amount of imagination. It was the kind of setup Steve would have been more familiar having at his own disposal, rather than finding himself on the receiving end of. "I suppose you feel right at home in a place like this," he called out to Steve though didn't look at him yet.

Gabriel finally returned to the bottom of the stairs. He sent Teddy and Marcus an encouraging nod. He then turned to face Steve and stood four feet away as he looked the man over, noticing the dried blood and bruising from the beatings he'd had over the last few days. If anything, it seemed like Steve had been having it easy, especially compared the the way Gabriel found Valentina and even Kerry in after the East Harlem nutjob had finished with them. However, Gabriel had not wanted to inflict the most severe and persistent beatings on Steve yet, as by now he would have become too numb and immune to the suffering. Gabriel wished to address Steve while he was in a relatively coherent state and know he could feel every bit of pain that was to be inflicted on him.

"So you're what's left of East Harlem? The last man standing. With Turner wiped out and the cripple of no good use, I'm glad you still made it to us in one piece," Gabriel calmly addressed Steve. "You were set to have piece of New York as your very own playground. So what was it that possessed you to cross my family?"

Pyroclast (Steve) Melanin-Gxdess (Teddy) RayPurchase (Marcus)

 

[Pyroclast]

Steve Kelly

“Can I call myself a free man, you ask?” Steve pondered from his chair. “Well, I’m free from a lotta’ things. I’m free from that cell, ain’t I? I can be whatever the hell I want down here. All’s I got is you guys and some blind motherfuckin’ waiters who can’t hear A FUCKING WORD I SAY!” Steve threw his head back and bellowed his last words, hoping his theatrics might capture the attention of the guards that stood nearby. He had been trying to engage them in conversation in any way he could think of, but they never even looked him in the eye. All stimulation had been taken away. He had nobody to talk to but himself, nowhere to explore but his mind, nothing to do but sleep, dream, eat, think, and try to claw his way to freedom until his fingernails broke and bled. Gabriel had personally designed Steve’s punishment so that he would be forced to live out his worst nightmare.

“Don’t gimme that side eye, Rat Fink, you actually chose to be in this dump. All this free will you got, no cops or nothin’, and this is where you come?! You could be out there fuckin’ all the broads in the city, Fink, runnin’ wild…” Steve shook his head with a smirk, his eyes following the rat as it explored the damp edges of the opposite wall. But it wasn’t long before his vision became clouded with tears and his grin transformed into a pout. “You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” he snarled, lips trembling. By the time he had blinked the tears away, the rat was already out of sight, leaving only the sound of scampering paws coming from a direction Steve couldn’t pinpoint. “You ain’t never gettin’ outta’ here, you know that, right?!”

Suddenly there came a heavy clunk from the top of the stairs, firing up the adrenaline in Steve’s heart. The rats squeaked and scurried into a hole beneath the cabinet in the corner. Steve’s wild eyes darted towards the sound and his hands clenched into fists, rattling the arms of his chair as he tried to hurl himself in their direction. “Yeah, you run, Fink, you leave me here! Fuckin’ coward!” When he fell back into his seat, he caught sight of Gabriel entering the room. “Oh look, the Angel Gabriel is here,” Steve announced to nobody. “Come to see the Devil on his throne…”

He watched the man begin to rifle through the contents of the shelves and countertops. So used to being ignored, Steve now believed he was nothing more than a fly on the wall, observing one of the Italian boss’ rituals without him knowing. He flinched when Gabriel spoke, his eyes darting to the guards when nobody answered. “That’s what I said,” Steve nervously drew out, speaking only to himself. “Fink likes the dark, damp underground...ain’t that what I said?”

His hands seized into fists once again when Moretti strolled back towards the staircase. “No, wait, don’t go!” he cried, tugging on all his restraints. “You only just got here! Where the fuck have you been, anyway, that was so important?! I’d never leave anyone like this for a whole month! You’re gettin’ forgetful, you old stiff! Losin’ your damn mind!” His eyes grew more desperate as the fear of isolation rose up inside him. He was almost on the edge of a panic attack when Gabriel turned and came back into the room, this time followed by two familiar faces: Teddy and Marcus. “Right,” he nodded, catching his breath. “Yeah, that’s more like it.”

Finally, Gabriel fixed his eyes on him. Steve could almost feel himself materialise under the strength of his glare, and as unfriendly as it was, he couldn’t help but be grateful for the acknowledgement. Still, Gabriel's questions didn’t exactly excite him. “Cross your family? How long ago are we talkin’, here?” He gave a dry chuckle before squeezing his eyes shut and rolling out the stiffness in his neck. “Gimme some coke and I’ll talk,” he bartered, resetting his glassy eyes on the Italian boss. “Please...I don’t feel good. I think I got a blood clot from bein’ strapped in here too long. Did you forget about me or somethin’? Be honest.” He looked up at Gabriel with as much innocence in his eyes as he could summon, before glancing to Teddy and Marcus. Only a second or two passed before he couldn’t keep it up any longer and he stamped his feet into the ground. “Whose dick do I gotta suck to score some blow around here?!”

Interactions
Misty Gray Gabriel
RayPurchase Marcus
Melanin-Gxdess Teddy

 

[Misty Gray]

Shannon Sullivan and George Sanderson​

Shannon had pulled Conor into an empty room to speak with him in private. Her son was struggling, she could tell that much, so the fact he was asking her for her thoughts came as no surprise. Both of them remained standing, a small distance between them as she looked up to her tall son and reached out to grip his hand. "Let me be blunt with you, because you don't have any say in the matter," she began, her tone as straight as ever. "Emmet was proud of you even when you were a pissed up brat shitting on Vinnie Romano's lawn, so of course he'd be proud of you now. It's been over twenty years, Conor. Emmet wasn't perfect and he did things he regretted. Stop thinking about what your father would have done and think about what you need to do. New York now is a different story to Chicago back in the forties, so forget what he would have done then. Hell, forget what Liam would have done. You can go ask James what he thinks, but in the end, he stepped down and it's your decision to make."

"And what about your opinion? What do you think I should do?" Conor asked his mother, gently squeezing her hand.

"Stop worrying about what other people think, for a start. You're in charge," Shannon bluntly told him. She then let out a sigh before deciding to give in and share her thoughts. "Well, I would love for you to go back to New York and kill every Moretti fucker you can get your hands on. You might succeed but revenge will do nothing to bring Jackson back, plus you'll be left still in charge of a city you don't even like." Shannon shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe I'm going soft in my old age, but after everything I've heard, I say you'd be wise to accept Moretti's offer. You have Dublin right here; there's no war but there are many opportunities going to waste whilst you're focused only on your American war. Come back to Dublin and shape the family business in your own vision. There's opportunities for new allies and expansions through our contacts over here and in England." She let go of Conor's hand and reached up to stroke his cheek. "Dublin is your home and this is the last I'll say on the matter. Now, you go find Aliana and Leo. I'll catch up with you all soon, soft lad."

*****​

George hadn't hesitated to return to Dublin with Finn to attend Jackson's funeral service. He had always liked the man and was sad to hear he'd been killed in action, so he was glad for the opportunity to pay his respects today. It hadn't escaped George how strange it felt to be back in Dublin; the place he was born and raised, spent 10 years in prison, and was eventually disowned completely by his family. Thankfully, he'd moved on since then and any negative thoughts about Ireland were mostly easy to brush away as quickly as they'd appeared. He was aware of one piece of history that wasn't going to be so easy to ignore and that came in the form of Finn's aunt, Shannon. So far, the engaged couple had managed to avoid the woman who had been unable to accept her nephew was in a relationship with another man. Although it had been well over a decade ago since Shannon made her thoughts clear, seeing her again still made George feel quite uncomfortable.

George had left Finn for a moment to get them both a drink, in his haste to do so, he hadn't noticed Shannon stepping out of a room and so he walked straight into the woman, colliding with her. "I'm so sorry, please accept---" George immediately began to apologise, falling silent when Shannon turned to face him and he realised he'd bumped into the one person he'd wanted to avoid. "I'll keep my eyes open next time," he awkwardly told her. Whilst his natural response was to be apologetic and a gentleman, he couldn't deny he felt an indifference towards the woman who had failed to accept Finn's sexuality.

"It's no problem, George," Shannon told him, her tone free of any sarcasm or harshness it often carried. If anything, her voice was softer than normal. "Actually, could we talk?" she asked, pointing into the private room she had just left. "I know it's been a long time, but I owe you an apology and I'd like to try clear the air."

George wasn't good at holding grudges, instead, he was more often inclined to forgive and forget. Still, after what had happened, he wasn't quite so eager on this occasion. "With all due respect, I believe Finn should be here too. I didn't know you when you condemned me, but Finn thought the world of you."

Shannon nodded her head, unable to disagree with George. "Of course. Could you ask Finnian to join us here?"

George agreed to Shannon's request but made no promise he and Finn would return to her. He made his way back to where he'd left Finn and sent him a small smile. He moved closer, resting his hand on his fiance's shoulder and leaning in to speak into his ear. "I just bumped into Shannon. Literally bumped into..." he told him. He then stepped back to look to Finn now he had his full attention. "She wants to see us both now, in private. She wants to apologise, but I told her I won't hear it without you. You're the one she hurt the most," he reasoned.

Bellz (Finn)

Conor Sullivan​

Having spoken with his mother about the Moretti problem, Conor made a conscious effort to leave those concerns behind for the time-being. Once he stepped out of the private room, he placed his focus solely on Jackson and giving the man a good send off. Having been in Dublin for a couple of days already, Conor had already visited the church once, taking some time to visit Tommy's grave and ask his old friend to look out for Jackson now. It was strange, as so many times when things were rocky with Aliana back in New York, Conor had felt a sense of jealousy whenever he thought of Tommy, the man who had won Aliana's heart before him. Now, Conor's marriage was much stronger and he knew he was more mature about things. Standing talking to Tommy, he had no bitterness, purely affection and pleasant memories of a good friend who had died far too young. Just like Jackson had.

When he found his wife and son in the hallway, Conor rushed over to them and placed a kiss on Aliana's cheek. He then crouched down to Leo and began fixing his son's tie to make it look neater. Seeing Blake and Natasha come into view, he patted his son on the shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "How about you go talk to Thomas and Olivia for a bit? They'll appreciate more company," he suggested. Conor then stood up straight and placed his arm around Aliana. "Are you holding up, love?" he asked his wife. The last two weeks had been difficult for Conor, spending his days mulling over the Morettis but most of all, unable to stop thinking about Jackson and the hole that had been left in his heart from the man's death. Today, he had vowed to hold himself together and be strong for the sake of those around him. Not only did he want to support the others, but he was sure Jackson would want to have a good send off and wouldn't want to see Conor so miserable.

Along with Aliana, Conor rushed over to Blake and Natasha. "I'm sorry, love. Whatever you need, I'm right here. Just say the word." He gave Blake a friendly hug, mindful not to crush Natasha who was in her arms. He then stepped aside for Aliana to greet them. He looked to Natasha and sent her a warm smile. "Your dad would be so proud of how brave you are, " he reassured her. "Can I get anything for you? You know I can reach the sweets your mum keeps out of the way, yeah? All you've gotta do is ask," he said, along with a wink.

Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana) Bellz (Blake, Natasha)

 

[Misty Gray]

Gabriel Moretti ​

Listening to Steve desperately cry for him not to leave had been admittedly satisfying to Gabriel. The Italian knew how much the man craved attention and constant stimulation, so keeping him in solitary confinement had paid off. It was all music to his ears and he savoured every moment of it. He couldn't help but let out a twisted chuckle as Steve berated him for being away for a whole month, especially as the fact was it had only been two weeks. Had it not been for Valentina needing so desperately to know Steve was dead, Gabriel would have happily left Steve alone in that moment and let him suffer alone for much longer than a couple of weeks. As satisfying as it was going to be killing his daughter's attacker, the thought of forcing him into a prolonged living hell was certainly tempting.

In the end, Steve seemed glad that his company was staying with him. Gabriel sent him a smile that seemed like he was playing along and glad to grant Steve's wish of having company. The smirk soon turned to a frown when Steve evaded the question, demanding drugs before he would talk. "A blood clot? Where exactly?" Gabriel asked, making a point of circling Steve as if he were assessing his health. "You'll be fine," he bluntly told him. He then stood opposite the man again and shrugged his shoulders. "I've been busy, Steve. I suppose you just slipped my mind," he remarked, making no effort to correct his assumption about how long he'd been locked up.

Gabriel pulled a disgusted face when Steve suggested performing a sexual act in return for drugs. "This one was clearly dropped on his head when he was born," Gabriel remarked to Marcus and Teddy. "You will answer our questions when we ask them and maybe then you will be given a reward, okay?" Regardless of whether Steve entertained the idea or not, Gabriel's stern expression was soon accompanied by a fury in his eyes. Suddenly swinging his arm, he smacked Steve across the face with the back of his hand in a bid to knock some sense into him "Snap out of it!" he ordered. "Why did you betray my family?" He glanced back to Marcus and Teddy, prompting them to move closer. "You hurt my daughter and I won't let you act like nothing happened, you sick little freak. Did you really think you would get away with that? Is there any part of your fucked up mind that feels remorse?"

Pyroclast (Steve)
Melanin-Gxdess (Teddy)
RayPurchase (Marcus)

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

The news of Jackson's death had hit Ali in ways she hadn't expected, but she couldn't resort to methods that she normally had. The main reason was that she was pregnant, but also because she had to comfort her best friend and husband. If she were going to do that then she needed to have a clear head and be sober. She had done her best to comfort both parties, as well as explaining the situation to Leo. He had processed what death meant a long time ago so it was easy for her to explain that Jackson wasn't coming back. All Leo wanted to do was make his parents feel better about the situation, but he didn't how.

Hearing they were going to be traveling to Dublin for the funeral, Ali had a small panic attack. She had finally gotten over Leonard and Tommy, but Dublin would always be a reminder of the things she held close to her heart went to die. She knew she would have to put those feelings aside to be there for Blake, Natasha, and her husband, but it was definitely going to take a moment to adjust. Conor had gone ahead of them, giving Aliana time to do her checkups, get the businesses in order for their absences, and anything else that needed to be taken care of. It would be Leo's first time on a plane and he was very excited, trying to mask his sadness about Jackson. Of course, he was asking a bunch of rapid-fire questions to his mother about the journey and how planes worked. To keep him from talking her ear off the entire six-hour flight, Ali had half a benzo and slipped it into his drink to make him fall asleep. Most people would question her tactics, but if they spent an hour with her kid they would definitely understand.

"I know you hate wearing your tie, but can we try to last until the end of the day?" She asked, straightening out his hair. Leo just nodded his head in response, understanding how important the day was which meant none of his shenanigans. He opened his mouth to say something until his father appeared to fix his tie. Ali watched in silence, a small smile on her face as she took in their interaction. If all the death surrounding her had made her realize anything, it would definitely be how much she should cherish and appreciate the moments she had with her family while they were still alive. She listened as Conor suggested Leo go find his cousins, Leo glancing to his mother for any signs that he should stay with her but finding none. He nodded his head and gave him a thumbs-up before running off. "Sure thing, dad!" Ali shouted after him to make sure he didn't break anything on his way to his cousins. She then turned to Conor and offered him a small smile. "As much as I can. Trying to be strong for Blake and Natasha... How are you? You speak with Shannon?" She asked, rubbing his arm.

Approaching Blake she had a side but warm smile on her face, embracing Blake for longer than she had intended. Ali considered Blake to be one of her best friends, so she wanted to be there for her in any way she would allow her to be. Once she pulled back, she reiterated her husband's words. "If you need us to watch Natasha or want company, we're coming right over." She glanced down to Natasha and smiled, "And if you ever want to come over and play with Leo he's more than happy to let you boss him around." She joked. "You being brave for your mom? I'm sure she appreciates it."


​

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

The past couple of weeks had been a struggle for Teddy, in terms of his current girlfriend. Upon hearing it was Steve who was truly the man that hurt Valentina, Theodore had made it his mission to take care of the man and take his time with it. The challenge was getting her to stay out of it where the punishment portion of it was concerned. He understood why she wanted to be present, the satisfaction she was looking for but he was worried about how seeing him again would fare for her. The last time their eyes met she had a panic attack that resulted in him doing everything he could to calm her down. He didn't want to see the woman he cared about go through something like that again if he could prevent it and protect her from it. Eventually, she had backed down and was trusting him and her family to take care of it. The man had been snatched up and alone for about two weeks now, no doubt anticipating what was about to come and Theodore honestly couldn't wait for the opportunity to pay the sick bastard back in kind.

Teddy definitely hated violence, the whole beating someone up portion of things followed by the torturing. But when someone he cared about was involved, he was fine with getting his hands dirty. It had been weeks since the last time he had to get them dirty and he hadn't thought he would have to again so soon. It was for a good reason, so he wasn't going to complain too much about it. He had again been dressed in clothes that we disposable, wanting to make sure he didn't have any kind of trace left on him. Walking down the stairs to the basement with his boss and Marcus, he was excited to get things started. More so because he wanted to get it over with, but also because Steve himself had it coming. He wasn't about to walk away from this now and he had a feeling Gabe knew that and was telling them this as a formality. Upon seeing Steve he felt his stomach churn. Not because he felt bad for him, but because he disgusted him and couldn't stand the sight. His blood had been boiling again and he wanted nothing but to cause Steve all the physical and mental pain he had caused Valentina.

Gabriel addressed him, commenting on Steve's sanity. Teddy didn't care much for him to begin with so this was the perfect opportunity to show him just how much he disliked him. His current behavior was more than expected since he was a psychopathic addict. He would at least thought the man would act a bit more... Together, but then again he was going through a withdrawal from whatever drugs he was shoving in his system wasn't he? "A lot more than just dropped on his head, boss. He's very demented." He stated, moving closer as his boss had asked of him. He listened in to him asking why he betrayed the family, though he was sure they weren't going to get a proper answer out of him any time soon, which was fine with Teddy since it gave him more time to make sure he felt what Tin had felt. It may not have been on the same level but he was going to make sure he felt all of his rage. "Remorse," Teddy scoffed at the idea. "This piece of shit feeling any modicum of remorse? Don't make me laugh."
​

 

[Pyroclast]

Steve Kelly

For a moment Steve wondered if Gabriel might actually be concerned about his health when he began to circle him and ask about the alleged blood clot. After all, he had kept him locked up for all this time - it was fair to assume that he was keeping him alive for something. “I don’t know, man - in my ass,” he taunted, starting to squirm in his seat. “Why don’t you take a look?”

Steve rolled his eyes when the man told him he had been too busy to check on him. He wasn’t buying it, and the agitation kindling within him intensified when Gabriel and Teddy started discussing his sanity as if he weren’t there. A snigger escaped him when Teddy described him as ‘very demented’. “Who was dropped on his head?” he scoffed, fixing his eyes on Gabriel. “I got ahead of you, didn’t I? I sure as hell got ahead of your little g-” The force of Gabriel’s knuckles smacking him across the cheek was enough to twist his head and cut the air from his lungs. From the imprint of Gabriel’s knuckles on his cheek, the tingling pain spread across his face like wildfire and it took a moment for him to recover, costing him the opportunity to challenge the man’s command before Teddy could get another quip in.

“Teddy boy’s got the right idea,” Steve murmured somewhat weakly, though a smile formed on his lips all the same. “Well, whaddya think? You were meant to go after the Irish, dipshit. You were draggin’ your feet, man, you needed a push! And nothin’ puts fire in a man’s belly like seein’ his little girl all fucked up.” He spoke with the confidence of an experienced man, suggesting he had caused the same harm countless times before. Leaning forward in his seat, Steve looked up to Gabriel with a smug expression. He glanced to Teddy, then to Marcus, knowing that the pair of them would also have been hurt by Valentina’s suffering. “Plus,” he couldn’t help but add. “She was real fuckin’ easy.”

Interactions
Misty Gray Angel Gabriel
Melanin-Gxdess Teddy boy
RayPurchase Marcus

 

[Pyroclast]

Tatiana Moretti

If Tatiana was being honest, she was pretty disappointed to not get to help torture and kill the man who had traumatised her little sister. Seeing the devastating effects that Steve and Isac had left on her had spawned an intense hatred within her which had lived in her heart ever since and she wanted nothing more than to hear the surviving culprit beg for mercy before watching the life drain from his eyes. Over the past two weeks, however, Valentina had argued with their father enough over who was to join him in dealing with Steve that Tatiana knew it was best to step back and not add to the tension. With her sister in need of support, Tatiana knew she had to be strong for her and so, rather than acting on her murderous desires, she channeled the energy into being productive for the business. Everyone in the family was feeling the strain and as the eldest child and an active member of the business, she knew it would be more helpful to leave Steve to her father, Marcus and Teddy and instead take a lead on their other responsibilities. It also served as a welcome distraction from the ambush at the abandoned train station; some of their soldiers and guards had been killed as expected, but it was one of their fallen enemies that kept popping into her mind. Valentina deserved her sympathy and anger - that of course made enough sense - but there was something unsettling about the way Rebel wouldn't leave her mind. Tatiana had kept many secrets from her family, but she had long since stopped feeling guilty about her attraction to women; sleeping with the enemy, on the other hand, was another thing altogether. An unforgivable act. And while she had been the one to kill the object of her affection, she still wished she had had another choice. There was nobody she could confide in, no one who would reassure her that she had done the right thing. She just had to keep it a secret now, to protect her reputation as a committed, capable and trustworthy member of the family.

Having spent the day dropping in on various affiliated businesses around the city, Tatiana had delegated the remaining duties to her team so that she could go home and keep her sister company. Given the state she had been in since the attack, and especially since finding out that Steve was behind it, she knew that on the day of the murder she would need more distracting than usual. "Hey, Val?" she called as she hung up her coat by the door. The house was slightly hazy and the smell of burning drew her towards the kitchen. "Is something on fire?"

She had meant it in jest, but upon seeing Valentina slumped at the table, Tatiana immediately regretted the teasing remark. "Wow, you've been busy!" she commented with a smile, eyes widening at the sight of the pizzas. On her way to the counter where they rested, she planted a kiss on the top of her sister's head. "I hope these are just for me and you, because once I take my first bite I won't wanna save a single slice for dad," she said, and picked up the trays ready to put in the oven. "Let's get these in the -" A waft of hot smoke came spiralling into the air when she opened the oven door, causing her to step back in alarm. "Oh," she said, catching herself before she could comment on the burnt mess and risk offending her sister. Once she had placed the pizzas down again, Tatiana stooped to retrieve it from the oven. "Oh, sorellina, you made us a…" She looked questioningly at Valentina as she set the blackened dessert on the table. It was a sweet gesture for her to attempt something special for the two of them, especially as they hadn't spent much time together recently, so she was doing her best not to sound cruel. Quickly, she wiped the questioning look off her face and replaced it with a smile. "You didn't need to do that," she said softly. "Nevermind, we can make another one. You know I love baking anyway."

Once the pizzas were in the oven, Tatiana took a seat at the table and reached to pour out a glass of wine before offering one to Valentina. "I can hear your mind working, you know," she told her, giving her a gentle kick under the table. "You know I'll always listen to you, sis'. We've probably got a while before the men come home and ruin our girl time, so let's make the most of it, huh?" She sent Valentina a wink, lifting her feet up onto the dining chair to get more comfortable. It was hard to keep up the positive front when her sister looked so drained, and her smile slowly faded. In a soft and serious tone of voice, she asked, "How're you feeling today, sis'? You get any sleep last night?"

Interactions
Misty Gray Valentina

 

[RayPurchase]

Marcus Moretti

​

So they had their man. But it was one who had slipped under the radar for far too long, one who had been welcomed by the Morettis as an ally. And all of that had been thrown back in their faces. Marcus’ had rather vehemently suggested tracking down and killing Steve the moment that Valentina had revealed that he had been the second assailant that night. But his father had preached patience, something that Marcus had found himself railing against. Whilst on the face of it at least, Gabriel had appeared calm, and this had just riled up Marcus further. For 2 weeks now he had been on a hair trigger, constantly snapping back at the merest form of perceived criticism or slight, taking himself off for increasingly long walks, and rarely being seen by his other family members. Not that was exactly a problem, with his rapidly darkening attitude he knew for a fact that a few of them were probably happier to see a little less of him, sometimes the only sign of him being there was a creaky floorboard in the small hours of the morning. But the wait was over now as he stood by his father and Teddy. He found himself looking over Teddy as his father spoke about not feeding Steve’s ego, the words filtering through his ears distant and quiet, as if spoken a mile away. The newest addition to the family. Marcus had hardly spoken a word to the man since that little revelation came to light, probably not the best circumstances to announce a budding relationship. Teddy had always been something of a friend, but now there were enemies everywhere, around every corner and behind every sycophantic smile. Was Teddy any different? At this point who knew. Family was all you could trust at this point, and where as before he may have welcomed the man, now he found himself questioning his intentions. One to keep a close eye on, too many people had been hurt. But at least one of those hurt filled chapters could be closed now.

“Doubts and hesitation went out the window a fortnight ago. Lets deal with the last of traitorous bastards,”

East Harlem had served their purpose as a mad dog. But like any violent hound they’d finally turned and bitten their master, forgetting their place in the order of things. That was on all of them. Should Gabe have seen the dangers, of course, but they had been necessary. But perhaps this was just a single slip on Gabe’s part, looking past the inherent dangers, nothing more than a blip on his record. Or maybe he was finally starting to allow age to catch up to him, all those years hiding in Miami, and then the great fight to reclaim New York, was this his father’s last hurrah? If so it was up to him to step up to the mantle, to make sure that they didn’t stagnate and weaken, like the Irish dogs who were letting this city slowly slip from their talons. Back to the task though, what Steve had done was more than just simply attack one young woman, he had attacked a Moretti. Everything they did hinged upon them being invincible, unassailable, the very thought of striking against them personally would call down an ungodly wrath. For all of the businesses and holdings of the Porter’s that they struck at, it was the attacks against them that had gained the most traction. Made them feel mortal once more. Now they had to close the box that this mad dog had attempted to open.

There he sat in the middle of the basement. A grin nearly slipped onto Marcus’ face as he saw the dried blood and bruises, it wasn’t enough, nothing would be enough for what this dog had done. But it was a start. Clearly he was a mess, whether that was due to the beating or just a long running disposition Marcus didn’t know, but he was flipping between pleading, boisterous confidence, and near manic energy seemingly at will.

“Dropped on his head? Nah this piece of shit was born like this weren’t you? Few screws loose up there, sort of kiddo that even his mother couldn’t bring herself to fully love. Oh I bet she tried, but there was always that doubt eh, that look that she saw in your eyes that told her she’d given birth to a monster, a freak,”

Marcus snorted and shook his head. This was the last of them, the last of the Harlemites who actually mattered. Maybe they should just stick a bullet in his head, be done with it and try and find some closure, remove the last festering source of infection and let the wounds heal. But then Steve had to open his mouth, and yet more of that poison flowed out, barbed words there to cause harm and harm alone. Anyone else would have begged, like the others they had tied up in basements such as this eager for answers as to the identities of Val’s attackers. And yet here he was trying to rile them still, even as the question of remorse was broached to him. Marcus slammed his hands into Steve’s chest, causing the chair to topple backwards, and for him to land on his back, still tied to the chair, most likely smacking his head on the way down. For good measure Marcus near enough fell upon him, grabbing a handful of his hair and smacking his head against the ground with a sickening thud. Now with Marcus’ hands on either side of his head, he locked eyes with Steve, their eyes mere inches from each other. The madness that was near enough always present in Steve’s eyes was now reflected back in the deep brown of Marcus’ own. The smile that always seemed present in them gone now, anger and hurt boiled within them now, a sea of chaos and violence as he properly met the eyes of the man who would have happily taken his sister from him.

“Some real nice last words there. How about I give you one last chance to find some fitting ones? Because either way I’m walking out of here with your brains dashed out over this floor. One last favour to a man who doesn’t realise he’s already dead,”

 

[Misty Gray]

Gabriel Moretti ​

Gabriel's face remained serious as Teddy spoke up, though he slowly nodded his head in agreement of the comments regarding Steve being demented and unable to feel remorse. There was no denying it and the words that followed from Steve's mouth confirmed the man's inability to feel guilt. Listening to the his explanation as the why Valentina was attacked seemed believable. The East Harlem lot, including the more level-headed ones such as Alistair and Ethan, were all bloodthirsty. They were always going to be impatient for the brutal war to kick off with Sullivans. Even the rewards of money and power were overshadowed by the group's desires to exact pain and suffering on their victims. It was why Gabriel had worked with them in the first place; so they could help beat down and traumatise the Irish Mob. It was also the reason Gabriel had expected a day would come when he would need to end the alliance and put the wild animals down. When he obtained what he believed what his rightful throne in New York, Gabriel always felt the East Harlem lot would be bad for his business. Revenge aside, this was all in the name of business; profit and power. For now, however, things were personal and Gabriel owed it to his daughter to prioritise the motivation of revenge.

Gabriel refused to acknowledge he was guilty of 'dragging his feet' with the Irish Mob, still believing he was moving forward with his plans at the correct pace and in the correct manner. However, he was conscious of the fact he was at fault for working with East Harlem in the first place. The guilt for making it possible for Steve to harm Valentina was something Gabriel knew would weigh heavy on his shoulders for some time. The next words to come out of Steve's mouth were repulsive, causing Gabriel's stare to practically pierce through Steve's skull, as if the Devil himself was about to throw all Hell his way. It was unsettling hearing someone talk to crudely about his daughter, especially having seen over the last few weeks the effects of the attack had on her. As expected, Gabriel wasn't the only man in the room upset by Steve's words. He took a small step back as Marcus lunged at the sicko, wanting to hurt the man for what he'd done to his sister. Gabriel wasn't about to deprive Marcus or Teddy of their need to lash out at the traitor, so stood back to allow his son that right.

After watching Marcus drag Steve to the ground and attack the man, Gabriel stepped over to the nearby shelving to retrieve his pistol. He gave Steve a chance to respond to Marcus' threats but beckoned the two guards to intervene before it was too late. The two employees grabbed the chair with Steve in it, tilting it back upright into the normal position. The guards then returned to their positions out of the way by the stairs. Gabriel stood in front of Steve, loosely holding the gun in his hand as he studied the younger man closely. He lifted the gun and pressed it into the side of Steve's skull as if he was about to pull the trigger. "Marcus is correct. You are already dead," he told darkly told him. He continued to press the barrel of the gun into the man's head, almost as if he was deliberating over whether or not to pull the trigger. However, no matter how much it might have seemed to those in the room that Gabriel was going to end things there, it hadn't crossed his mind to give him such an easy end. "As easy as it would be, it's not yet time," he finally spoke up as he pulled the gun away and tossed it out of reach onto the nearby worktop. He stepped back in front of Steve, moving closer so he could look down on him. "Valentina wants you to suffer for what you did to her. She asked the three of us to make sure you die a bloody, painful death. So we're going to make sure her wish is granted," he told Steve, his voice sounding eerily calm.

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a large, rusted masonry nail which he used to point to the healing scratch marks on Steve's forearm. He remembered Valentina recalling how she'd scratched Steve's arm with her fingernails before he lashed out and broke her wrist. She recognised the same marks two weeks ago when she realised Steve was the man who had attacked her. With Steve's wrists tightly secured to the chair arms, Gabriel didn't meet much resistance as he dug the point of the nail into the skin of Steve's arm below the elbow and dragged it towards his hand, ripping deeply into the flesh of the scar. He repeated the action for the other two marks Valentina had inflicted on her attacker during her struggle. Allowing the blood to rush to the surface of the deep lacerations and bleed out, Gabriel took a step back and tossed the nail aside. He looked to Marcus and Teddy, fixing his eyes on the two men. "That piece of shit broke her arm when she tried to defend herself. I wonder how he would feel?" he suggested, glancing to the toolbox laid out on the nearby worktop. Gabriel was inviting Teddy or Marcus to step up, but if neither did, he was more than willing to continue on and break the man's wrist himself.

Melanin-Gxdess (Teddy)
Pyroclast (Steve)
RayPurchase (Marcus)

 

[Pyroclast]

Chase Zegarra

It hadn’t even been three weeks since the team had had to deal with a threat on The Lomax. There had been a lot at risk - the lives of all the nightclub’s occupants, Mitchell Van Gerwen and Jasmine’s father - but they had taken it regardless, confident that they could still come out on top. After flying the enemy to Cuba and killing them in an ambush, it didn’t feel like they had won when Jasmine turned out to have been kidnapped. A warning was sent out to Joseph Carpenter and a request put in for his transfer just for extra measure, while Chase and Adam’s focus was on rescuing Jasmine and Mitch.

Despite there being other mobsters held in the same prison as Joseph, there hadn’t been enough to protect him. The transfer hadn’t gone ahead, and ultimately the man had been killed. Risking his life without his or Jasmine’s consent was a heavy burden, but if he hadn’t made the decision then the fate would have fallen on either the civilians and staff at the nightclub or on their Cuban workforce, some of whom he had known his whole life. Nevertheless, Chase couldn’t help but feel responsible for Jasmine’s grief. With Jackson and Rebel also lost to the enemy, as well as several more soldiers and guards who had fought at the train station attack, the entire mob seemed shrouded in darkness. A large portion of the mob had travelled to their home in Dublin for Jackson’s funeral, while Chase, Adam and several other remaining mobsters had attended the many funerals held in New York. As for Jasmine, she had taken some well-needed time off to spend time with her family and tend to her late father’s affairs. Chase respected the time she needed but felt helpless without knowing how she was doing or whether or not she resented him for opting to put her father’s life at risk. He was relieved, therefore, when she invited him over to see her.

He felt rather stupid loitering in the lobby with a peace lily in his arms, but it was the first time she had invited him to her apartment and given the loss she had recently suffered, he didn’t want to impose on her early. When the clock eventually showed the right time, he made his way up to her front door and gave it a firm, rhythmic knock. Despite everything, a smile crossed his face the moment he saw her face. “Hello,” he softly greeted her, and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. A few leaves brushed their faces in the process, bringing his attention to the gift. “This is a peace lily, for you,” he said, holding it out for her to take. “I think we all need some peace right now, right?” As he followed her into her apartment, his eyes naturally explored the room. Every detail of her life was like a gift to him; there wasn’t anything about her that he didn’t look forward to learning about. But his surroundings didn’t hold his attention for long, not when his main concern was for Jasmine herself. “I’m glad to see you, Jasmine,” he admitted. “I’ve been thinking of you all the time, and about everything that happened. I’m really sorry, you know, from the heart...” His hand moved to his chest, making a conscious effort to keep his eyes from falling to the floor. “How are you doing?”

Interactions
Misty Gray Jasmine

 

[Misty Gray]

Valentina Moretti​

Valentina straightened up her slouched posture when she heard her sister enter the house; consciously reminding herself of all of the times she'd been told to sit up straight as a child. When she asked if something was on fire, Valentina nodded her head and briefly looked towards the oven in question. She returned Tatiana's smile when she pointed out that she'd been busy. Valentina knew she'd been quite the opposite in the grand scheme of things, when compared to her lifestyle before the attack. She'd spent most of the day sitting around the house and only a couple of hours actually being productive in the kitchen. Despite that, it was the most motivation and energy she'd had in weeks. Unfortunately, she was kicking herself for failing the task she'd set herself.

"I can confirm they're all for us. Papa won't get a look in," she assured her sister. She grimaced as she watched Tatiana approach the oven, knowing she would see the pie and possibly cast some kind of judgement on her failed attempt. "It was supposed to be an apple pie," she spoke up when she caught her sister's questioning look. She ran her fingers through her hair as she tried to brush off the headache and slight confusion caused by her hunger-induced low blood sugar levels. "I just wanted to do something useful for a change," she explained herself. Something still didn't feel right and it was niggling in the back of her mind as she glared at the blackened pie. "No, it wasn't apple. It was cherry!" she eventually realised and corrected herself.

Once the pizzas were in the oven, Tatiana sat across from Valentina and offered her a drink of wine. She accepted the offer and as she took a sip, she raised her eyebrow at her sister's comment about her mind working. Carefully setting the glass down on the table, she lightly shrugged her shoulders. Her mind never stopped lately and it was exhausting. Whether she thought about the past, present or the future, there was a feeling of dread and anxiety. An unnerving limbo. "Girl time sounds nice," she said, sending Tatiana a soft smile.

"I didn't get much sleep. I woke up after a couple of hours and couldn't drift off again. That's why I burnt the pie. My head was hurting so I went to rest for a moment and instead dozed off..." she explained. She sat back in her chair and let out a deep sigh. "I hate all of this waiting. As bad as it might sound to think this way, I just want to know Steve's suffering and then dead. I know it won't suddenly fix me, but I'll at least take some comfort knowing he's gone." She idly pulled at the edge of the bandage around her wrist. "That's why part of me wanted to see him dead with my own eyes, just to know for sure he's never coming back. I don't mean to be snappy about it, but they don't understand how I feel. They never will. And Papa should understand where I'm coming from after everything he's done to get revenge on the Irish." She let out a deep sigh and shook her head. "I know I'm being unreasonable and stubborn. Even when arguing it out with Papa I knew he was right, but I still couldn't back down. I guess I just want to be heard, y'know?" She gazed down towards her wine glass for a moment before looking back to her sister. "I don't just mean in the sense that nobody was there to hear me when I needed help that night. I mean in this family. He's always overlooked my ideas, never giving me any input in the business, even when it was my idea for him to buy that bar the cops drink in. I love him, but he's frustrating," she complained.

Valentina took a deep breath and knocked back the rest of her wine. "But then I think I'm being unfair, because I know he's just trying to protect us and he has been less overbearing lately." A small smile suddenly appeared on her face, managing to break through the many troubles she was facing. "He hasn't murdered Teddy and he even agreed to let us date. That's progress, right?" she curiously asked her sister, more than anything wanting to gauge her feelings on the relationship.

Pyroclast (Tatiana)

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Hearing Steve give his reason behind the attack wasn't that big of a surprise. There were tons of people within the Moretti ranks who weren't happy with the pace of things, believing it was moving too slow. Personally, Teddy felt that things had been moving too fast but unlike Steve, he hadn't been the type of person to do something drastic. He voiced his opinion and when it was shot down, he did as he was told and nothing more. Steve had been the one to go out and take drastic measures to get the result he wanted, measures that had come to bite him in the ass. He could've done without hearing that last comment about how easy Tin had been, causing his blood to start boiling. "You little bitch. Of course, you'd attack an innocent woman. Always too pussy to hurt someone without them being tied up first, right?" It was a rhetorical question as he looked over the tools on the table, trying to decide what he wanted to do. Torture was never his thing but Steve Kelly he would make an exception.

Steve's words set Marcus off in a way Teddy himself had never seen. Val was his baby sister, so he understood why he was being so protective over her. If he were to be honest with himself, a part of him was afraid for what might happen if he and Tin didn't work out. It wouldn't be Gabe he would be worried about but Marcus kicking his ass. He turned his attention back to the scene before him with Marcus pushing the chair over causing Steve to hit the floor. Before he could get out of hand and kill him too soon Gabe called the guards to put an end to it. He took his turn next while speaking about Valentina and her desire to make sure he suffered. Even though he had heard her say it before it was still unsettling a bit to hear the woman speak the way she did. In his eyes, Tin was above violence and torture methods but he understood why she was this way and was going to make sure she was satisfied. Anyone who thought Gabriel raising his gun to the man's head meant the end didn't know Gabriel Moretti at all. Teddy crossed his arms and watched his boss do his work, almost cringing and subtly rubbing his arms as if he could feel it.

"He did break her arm, didn't he?" He stated, slowly making his way over. There was blood on the floor, gathering in puddles beneath the man but that wasn't going to deter Teddy from fulfilling his promise. "I ever tell you about the time I broke my arm when I was a kid?" He said to Gabriel, picking up a metal baseball bat and lightly swinging it. "Well, technically, it was broken by these asshole bullies when I was a kid but regardless, it made the worst sound." Teddy planted his feet to the left of Steve before swinging the bat fast and hard against the man's upper arm, listening to the crack of his humerus breaking. "Sounded like that." He took a brief moment before shaking his head and walking to the other side of him. "No, that sounded different. Maybe if I just," Teddy did the same thing and listened to the crack before snapping his fingers. "Actually it may have sounded like the first. But it did hurt like a son of a bitch." He turned to Steve, raising his hand to his hair and yanking his head back so the three of them could see his face. "Didn't it?"
​

 

[Pyroclast]

Steve Kelly

Steve only managed to catch a glimpse of the fire in Gabriel’s eyes before a heavy thump to the chest knocked his chair over backwards. With his legs and arms bound, there was nothing he could do to break the fall and so he ended up smacking the back of his head on the ground. The sudden pain momentarily stunned him and by the time his vision came back into focus, he found himself nose to nose with Moretti’s son, close enough to see his distorted reflection in the man’s furious eyes. Steve watched a slow smile creep across his own face, until Marcus distracted him with more threats. “Thanks, but I know this process good enough,” he sneered, pulling his focus back to the brown eyes that glared down at him. “You keep a man down here this long, he knows he ain’t gettin’ out. I've put down enough assholes in basements like this to know how this goes. But you know what else it taught me?" His grin widened. "You can deal with me whatever way you want, but it ain’t gonna undo what I did to your baby sister.”

Marcus' chance to kill him there and then was snatched away when the guards hauled Steve's chair back onto its four feet. Steve emitted a light groan as the ceiling veered into the floor and his wrist jerked in its bounds as he instinctively tried to raise a hand to his head. It was Gabriel standing before him this time, a pistol hanging at his side in a loose grip. "Seriously?" Steve muttered, raising his eyebrows at the man. He couldn't help but sigh when the gun was raised to his temple, but he enjoyed the eye contact at least. "You're tempted, I can see it," he smirked, in an attempt to provoke him. He shot his head forward and snapped his teeth at the Italian boss, chuckling to himself when Gabriel ultimately lowered the gun. "Just somethin' to get the adrenaline goin', alright!" he laughed, looking between the others as he squirmed in his seat. "If you won't get me my fuckin' coke I guess a little foreplay is the next best thing, right, boys?"

The slow, violent death he was promised didn't exactly appeal, but he was delighted nonetheless to hear that Valentina had personally demanded it. "Valentina, huh?" he drew out, as though savouring the taste of her name. "Shame you didn't bring her along. Oh, I bet she'd love to see me like this! We could have had some fun here tonight…" He trailed off when he saw the rusted nail that Gabriel was now pointing at his exposed arm. For once he fell silent, his eyes merely following the sharp object until it came to rest just at the top of one of the scratches on his arm from where Valentina had struggled against him. It was only then that he understood the symbolism of it. Steve braced himself as best he could, but when the nail pierced deep into his arm and was dragged along the traces of his scars he still cringed. At first he thought he could breathe through it, maybe even channel it into some form of exhilarating pleasure - but in the end he gave in and let himself scream.

By the time it was over, his entire body was tense and he had begun to shiver slightly. It took him a while to get ahold of his breathing, which came out heavy and strained. "Sure you went deep enough?" he muttered. It was a weak attempt to continue his taunting, but he was to stubborn to surrender completely as long as he had some strength left. He heard the surprisingly heavy clunk of the nail hitting the ground, which prompted him to raise his head again. One look at his torn-up arm and he quirked an eyebrow. "Am I bleedin' out? I thought you wanted somethin' slower, man…"

Gabriel then offered the other two the chance to break his arm like he had Valentina's. Steve let out a dark chuckle, though it didn't sound as arrogant as it had before. He was still too busy breathing through the pain in his arm to respond with a verbal quip, and so Teddy took the opportunity for himself. "Yes, he did," Steve murmured to himself with a distant smile, as though he were once again simply spectating.

Steve might have laughed at the thought of Teddy being bullied as a child had he been granted the time, but before he could give any kind of reaction, a metal baseball bat struck his arm and split his humerus with a sickening crack. Steve howled in pain, a string of barely comprehensible profanity spewing from his lips. Once again he was left no time to process it before the bat swung into his other arm with the same destructive force, and he felt the bone shatter and become displaced. He screamed in further agony and when Teddy yanked his hair back to get a good look at him, there were tears streaming from his wild eyes. His heart was racing, though not in the way he often sought, and he was breathing so hard and so fast that he could almost have passed out. Returning Teddy's ferocious glare, Steve spat in the man's face. “You know I don’t give a shit what you do to me, right?!” he barked, though it was clear enough that his raised voice was partly to hide his trembling. “Ain’t no higher honour than knowin' the great Moretti family is fucked up for life ‘cause of what I did. And I had fun with it, too - every slow motherfuckin' second of it! So do your fuckin' worst and enjoy it like I did your precious Valentina, but you'll always know that I died satisfied!"

Interactions
Misty Gray Gabriel
Melanin-Gxdess Teddy
RayPurchase Marcus

 

[Misty Gray]

James Porter and Conor Sullivan​

It had felt strange returning to Dublin and it not being about business. Were it not for the nature of the visit, James was sure he'd had time to appreciate being away from New York for a while. Although there were enough bad memories in Dublin, it still felt like he was visiting home whenever he was there. He'd made a point of arranging a visit to the secure prison to visit his brother, Elijah, but today all of his focus was on Jackson. It had been difficult for everyone since the man's death and James had been trying his best to keep things together for the sake of the others. Blake, Natasha, Syd and Conor were all suffering the most and in a way, that allowed James to push his own grief aside so he could support them. Having lost Warren, Ryan and Arlene over the recent months, it wasn't exactly easy trying to hold things together now his good friend Jackson had been killed too. He knew there'd never be an escape from the life he'd been born into, but he'd at least hoped for a reprieve in his retirement. Even just a few months of peace to figure out how he would even settle into a life distanced from the mob.

*****​

After speaking with Blake and Natasha for a little while, the two continued on their way through the house to speak with other family members. Conor turned back to his wife and reached out to give her hand a gentle squeeze. "You're holding up really well, love," he reassured her, knowing she was being strong for Blake. He'd briefly answered her question about Shannon before they diverted their attention to Blake, so he decided to update Aliana more on the conversation he'd had with his mother. "When I was talking to my mam I asked her what she thought about everything with the Morettis. She, um... Well, I think she caught me a bit off guard," he admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "I thought she'd tell me to fight it out to keep New York. I expected she'd want every last one of that bastards put down and for me to win this war. I thought asking her would give me more certainty, perhaps she'd help kick my arse into gear so I could return to New York all guns blazing. Instead, she told me to give it up and bring everything back here. I know in my heart I'd rather be home, here in Dublin, but I've always been expected to keep fighting."

They were soon approached by James, who pointed out a man standing a short distance away. "I think Eddie is wanting a catch-up." James informed Conor. The man in question was one of the high-ranking gang members based in Dublin and who had been helping keep their businesses in check for years now. After excusing himself from Aliana, Conor walked away to speak with Eddie.

Now left standing with just Aliana, James looked to her and sent a small, reassuring smile. "How are you holding up, Ali?" he asking her, having not spoken directly with the woman in a while.

Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)

 

[RayPurchase]

Marcus Moretti
​

Spoiler: Warning

Contains a violent scene some readers may find distressing

Marcus nearly ended up fighting off the two goons who emerged from behind them, so single mindedly fixed on achieving vengeance on the piece of shit that lay before him. Just another couple of hits against that concrete and that head would be cracking like an egg. But something came to the fore, past those red mists, that stopped him from fully lashing out against all of those around him. Instead he paced behind them, not even casting his eyes up to look as Steve and his father set to work against him. All he could hear was that talking, that incessant talking. Still he spoke, jabbering nonsense, goading and sniping.

"He's fucking toying with us the messed up fuck. We're wasting our time here."

This was meant to be cathartic. To slowly break the dog who had betrayed them, who had caused so much hurt. He was right with his comment about them being fucked up for life. Some wounds ran deep, and this one was going to last for a while. The divisions it had exposed behind that perfect facade, even between Marcus and his own father. The dreams and plans it had shattered in its wake. Plans he had long held onto through all of this, to a return home to Miami. That dream had sailed now, that Marcus who had aspirations of taking his family to safety. That Marcus was dead and buried. Killed by various means and people, but that final blow had come from the man bound before him. Now something darker had taken his place, a man who would not balk at killing Steve where he stood. Not like Calvin. Yes he had gone hunting him with his team mates, the last poor excuse for a man who had crossed Valentina, done harm to her. But would he have killed him? He'd spoken the game, he and his friends had riled themselves up into a blood lust, hunt fever. But to actually take a man's life? They had just been boys. Dogs chasing cars, they wouldn't know what to do if they caught one. Now though he knew what had to be done. Now the beast was snared before them. He walked over to the workbench, picking up the handgun that Gabriel had placed there. It seemed light, far lighter than it used to. Even the grip felt better, comfortable in his grip, like shaking hands with an old friend. Tapping the barrel against his thigh, he turned back towards Steve, Gabe and Teddy. Flipping it in his hand he offered it towards Teddy.

"Consider it your right of passage. I'm going to be watching you like a fucking hawk you know that right? But you go and redecorate the walls of this basement with this fucker's brains, and maybe I'll watch you a little less eh?"

Without waiting for an answer he all but thrust the gun into Teddy's hands, before picking up two items that had caught his eye. Pulling on one of the thick workman's gloves that lay on the table he gripped the metal pliers, and with a burst of flame the blowtorch in the other hand began to warm them, the metal turning first a deep red, brightening and brightening until it began to take on a furious white, he could feel the raw heat against his face, prickling against his cheeks. "You're a confident one ain't you Steve? Gift of the gab. Even now you think you're throwing verbal punches, landing some hits. Then we'll kill you, and you'll go quiet, but that way you've gone fighting to the end right? But I'm going to take that away from you. You're not going to die with an insult rolling off your tongue, you're going to die unable to say a single word."

Marcus surged forwards dropping the blowtorch and grasping Steve's mouth with his hand, the glowing pliers in the other. Forcing his jaw opened until he saw that snake's tongue. It may not have been forked, but it was that of a snake's, carrying the same poison and venom. Even now it flickered, trying to escape. But there was none. Not now. Not anymore. The pliers reached forward, gaping open like the mouth of a piranha, hungry for its prey. As he clamped down a sizzle emanated like a steak hitting a hot grill, steam and cries of agony mingling in the air. Marcus' face remain dead set however, there was no joy in this work. He had expected it but there was none, this was simply duty, what had to be done. All the while the smell of cooking and then rapidly burning flesh filled that little basement, there was no hiding from it, the acrid smell filling nostrils. All it took was a twist and a wrench, and the plier's and their prize skittered across the floor to rest in the corner. Marcus stood up, a few beads of sweat dripping from his forehead but little else. As if he had just come back from a walk on a warm summer's day. He straightened his t-shirt, and made his way towards the exit, clapping a hand on Teddy's shoulder. "Do what has to be done. No point wasting any more time with this piece of filth. I'm going back home for a shower, get the smell out. Time we all went home I think," And with that the last Steve saw of Marcus in that room was his back as he ascended those stairs, without a glance back.

(Interaction: Pyroclast Steve, Misty Gray Gabriel, Melanin-Gxdess Teddy)

 

[Misty Gray]

Gabriel Moretti​

Gabriel stepped back and folded his arms as he watched Teddy addressing Steve. Part of the boss hadn't been sure if the man would follow through on the physically violent acts, having up until recently been employed for his smooth-talking and clean facade. A talker rather than a man who would get his hands dirty. But now Teddy was in this position and Gabriel had no intention of relieving the man of the duty. Having failed him months ago, Gabriel felt it didn't need saying out loud that it would be in Teddy's best interests to keep going. After all, he wasn't forced into the Moretti business, but by now he was tied into it whether he liked it or not.

The sound of breaking bones as Teddy struck Steve's arms with the metal baseball bat was satisfying. Gabriel watched like a hawk, not once flinching as he instead savoured each strike to the animal's arms. The smallest of sinister smiles flashed on Gabriel's lips as he listened to Teddy's quips about which of the two sounds most resembled a personal experience of his own. It was good watching Steve in pain and in a way pleasing seeing Teddy carry out what was required of him.

Any satisfaction was soon wiped off of Gabriel's face as Steve spoke of Valentina. Every word out of the freak's mouth gave further justification to Gabriel's refusal to allow Valentina to be present for the torture. Not that the man felt he had to justify his final decisions, but the evidence in front of him served to confirm what he already knew. It further served to remove any doubts Marcus or Teddy or anyone else might have had about him dismissing Valentina's wishes to be there. It wasn't pleasant hearing the man speak so cruelly about his daughter; an innocent young woman who had done nothing to deserve the attack nor the lasting effects it would have on her. Despite being a controlled and disciplined man, it was still difficult for Gabriel to completely mask from his face that Valentina's suffering was personally upsetting. The man never expected Steve to express regret for what he'd done, but that didn't mean the expected taunts didn't strike a chord. Why wouldn't a man who loved his children be affected by their suffering?

Marcus then caught the older man's attention as he stepped forward to retrieve the gun, clearly affected too. After handing the gun to Teddy and suggesting he bought his trust by killing Steve, Marcus moved on to retrieve more tools to use. As he had done when Teddy proceeded to break Steve's arms, Gabriel continued to closely watch the next moments unfold. Despite the smell of burning flesh and the expectation of the pain it brought with it, Gabriel didn't once tear his eyes away from the scene, instead taking in every moment until Steve's severed tongue was tossed across the floor. Marcus didn't stick around long enough for further comment, excusing himself and suggesting the others didn't waste time in returning home either.

Having watched Marcus grasp Teddy's shoulder and give him his cue, Gabriel allowed his attention to fall onto the object of Valentina's affections. As pleasing as it would be to continue watching Steve suffer and to be the one to kill him, Gabriel chose to honour Marcus' choice. Although he had welcomed Teddy back into the family business and allowed him to date Valentina, the boss couldn't deny the man had got off relatively lightly for his betrayal of handing over information to the Irish Mob. If there was ever a time to prove himself as loyal not only to the business, but to Valentina herself, this would be it. "You heard what Marcus said," he addressed Teddy as he gestured to the gun in the man's hand. "Finish the job. Do what must be done, Theodore," he commanded.

Melanin-Gxdess (Teddy)
Pyroclast (Steve)
RayPurchase (Marcus)

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Ali had been out of sorts when it came to speaking with members of her family. While she was present and doing her best to pay attention, it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold her emotions together. A lot of things had happened in such a short amount of time. It seemed like she would get over one thing just to have something else to work through and get over. She just wanted a moment to breathe, to relax without having to worry about who's going to die next or who was going to betray them. Really she needed a vacation and hoped she would be able to get one soon.

She was sipping on some water when her husband turned back to her, taking her free hand in his. He was commending her on how well she was holding up. She shook her head and gave him a small smile. "Doing the best I can, I guess. I really hate funerals. How are you holding up?" She asked, softly rubbing his arm in comfort. She was aware that he had been blaming himself as of late, so she was trying to check up on him whenever she could. He began to finish filling her in about the talk he had with his mother. It seemed like she had some of the same ideas she had, which was a relief to hear. She figured whatever his mother told him he would follow most of her advice. "I'm glad she was able to give you more peace of mind. I know it'll be hard for you, but don't think of it as giving up anything. Swallowing your pride is difficult, for sure, but don't think of it as a weakness. Besides, I'm sure you can come up with something so it doesn't make you feel like you're throwing in the towel completely." She reassured him, rubbing his back. If she were being honest, hearing that Shannon basically talked some sense into him brought her nothing but joy. Maybe now he would understand what she was saying in the very beginning. "I believe you are doing the best you can and that the only person holding you to anything higher is yourself." Her voice was soft and concerning, showing how much she cared about him and wanted to ease his mind even more.

Before she could begin asking him about the next step, James approached them for business. With her husband now the head of the family there were particular responsibilities she knew he had to take care of. She was left alone with her brother-in-law, realizing it had been some time since the two of them had any private conversation, but not for lack of trying. Since coming back to Dublin, she was bombarded with all of the memories of the past, more of the unpleasant ones than the good. "Doing my best, you could say. Knowing that Jackson is gone for good is hard but coming back here was too... How are you and Luce?" For some reason as she spoke, she was unable to look into James' eyes. Jackson's death had made her realize a lot, the main one being how he was the main person who had given her peace of mind as far as Tommy and Leo went. It led her to think about how much she blamed James for 'not doing his job' and protecting the people she held dear to her heart; Tommy and Leo. Granted, she had never showed this or acted it out but she still felt guilty for even thinking about it. "It feels nice being home. I took Leo to see Tommy and his uncle's grave, told him some things about him and then I realized something." She couldn't help but look away. "I blamed you for so long and didn't even realize for how long I had been."

​

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

Although it had been close to ten years since Skye’s passing, Syd hadn’t realised how much his grief had healed. Over the past decade the family had lost many loved ones - Warren, Ryan and Arlene in the last year alone - but the sting in his heart brought by Skye’s death had always remained unmatched. That is, until they lost Jackson. Perhaps it was because the man would be leaving behind a widow and a young child, or because, despite the ever-present threat of death in the business, it was so sudden. Maybe it was because he had died in Syd’s arms, that he had had to watch him take his last breath like he had Skye, or because for all the support, advice and devotion the man had shown him over the years he had become much like a father to Syd. There were a thousand reasons why Jackson’s death was enough to turn his world upside down, and with Conor also taking time off to grieve, Syd just let his own grief bury him for a while.

Time dissolved around him as he spent the first few days in bed, only getting up to use the bathroom and tend to his baby daughters. Gazing into their curious blue eyes reminded him that he had something more to hold onto this time, a responsibility that he didn’t want to give up. No matter how dark his thoughts turned, he knew that he wanted to keep going. The twins were his chance to pay back what he hadn’t managed to pay Jackson; a chance to pass on that same level of love and support, the wisdom that had kept his head up and strengthened his sense of right and wrong. So, while the weight of his grief pinned him to his bed, his newfound fatherhood kept his self-injurious fantasies at a distance.

Skye had quietly been on Syd’s mind in the months leading up to her ten year anniversary, but he could never have expected that the loss of another loved one would have brought him back to Dublin in time for it. Having not been back for several years due to his responsibilities within the mob and at his nightclub, he had a feeling that seeing his old home would be a shock. The city had since evolved without him, and as he walked the old familiar streets he felt like some kind of resurfaced memory, a tourist in his old home. The day before the funeral he had visited the graveyard with fresh flowers for Skye, in case for whatever reason he didn’t get to visit on the actual anniversary. He talked to her about Roxie and the twins, about Jackson, about all the babies that were now on the way, and of the possibility of making a permanent return to Dublin. It always felt good to share with her, even if he didn’t see her so much these days.

The funeral itself had been tough to get through. To Syd, funerals were little more than a formality, a party to share collective grief. He generally preferred to say goodbye on his own somehow - it was more personal that way, more peaceful. There was once a time when seeing others upset encouraged him to find strength within himself, to rise above his own pain to be there to comfort those that needed it, but these days, he found it hard not to let the misery of others bring him down. He hated to watch his loved ones grieve as much as anyone else, knowing there was nothing he could do to make their pain go away, and although he cared about how everybody was coping with the loss, having everyone mourning together was overwhelming.

The wake was supposed to be more cheerful, but Syd was finding it hard to get into the spirit of it. The urge to smoke yet another cigarette drew him to the back of the house, leaving the party to get on without him for a few minutes. The air outside had an entirely different taste to that of New York City, though it wasn’t as cold as he remembered March in Dublin to be. Leaning against the back wall, he looked up to the hazy pink sky and let out a deep exhale. “What a time to turn 31, huh?” he said of his own birthday a few days before. Tears were already stinging at his eyes and he took another drag from his cigarette before continuing. “I’m gonna do my best for you, Jackson. I’m gonna be the man you always believed I could be. Blake and Natasha and your new little kid -” He choked up then, knowing how happy it would have made his Godfather to find out he was going to become a dad again. “They’ll always be safe and looked after. That’s a promise from your Godson.” Drawing a cross on his chest, Syd let a few tears roll down his face, with only the nicotine keeping his heart steady enough to not lose himself again. “Thank you for everything you did for me - for all of us. I’ll miss you for the rest of my life.”

By the time he re-entered the house, he felt ready to take on the heavy atmosphere once again. How long he would manage to keep it up for before sneaking off for another smoke break, he couldn’t tell, but when he found Sinead and Savannah in the kitchen he felt more comfort than anything else. “Hey,” he uttered with a small smile, running a hand down his tie before leaning back against the counter. He reached up with one hand to conceal a cough and then quickly rubbed the tear tracks from beneath his eyes. “How’re you doing in here?”

Interactions
Misty Gray Sinead, Savannah

Enzyme Jackson (mentioned)
Bellz Blake, Natasha (mentioned)