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

[RayPurchase]

Mitchell Van Gerwen
Porter Residence

​

Mitch takes a slow steady sip of his beer as she talks, nodding as she talks and making sure to give her his full attention. Well this seemed to be going well, she was funny, good looking, held a good conversation. Most of the time you’d be lucky to find someone able to tick 2 of those categories, but all 3... and she hadn’t brushed him off yet, hey enjoy this as long as it lasts. He smirked at her dancing comment, he didn’t believe that for a second.

“And this is the point where you tell me you're from a family of professional dancers, being the worst of which still places you in the top 5 in this room? I go for more of what I lack in skill I try to make up for with raw enthusiasm. I’ve heard it can look quite spectacularly dangerous,”

Which was more often than not why Mitch gravitated to the bar, easier to look sophisticated with a scotch in his hand than flailing about on the dancefloor. He couldn’t help but chuckle at her comment about the Stones.

“Ah we're not all 50 years old and stuck listening to music made over 30 years ago. Well admittedly most of us are, but every so often a slightly rogue figure like myself slips through the net, no stick up the arse, vague understanding of popular culture... an absolute rarity it turns out,”

He nods along politely as she speaks, placing his hand underneath his chin, his index finger extended and rhythmically tapping against it.

“Ah parents, always trying their best but still somehow manage to invariably screw things up,”

He pauses for a moment, the tips of his ears reddening slightly. Shit that didn’t just across as him criticising her parents did it!? He clears his throat.

“... personal experience of course, I’m sure you’re folks are lovely. I mean in a way it’s lucky you didn’t, Yale man myself, if my old Dean knew I was talking to a Harvard woman he'd be chasing me around the garden with his stick,”

He smiled at her, the giggle that escaped her lips putting him at ease. He hadn’t been this relaxed talking to a woman in years. I mean the only real extended regular female contact he had was either with Bailey, who was more of a younger sister, and Jenny his secretary, and she had turned into something of a maternal figure... so in other words any flirting was far far from his mind. Was this flirting though, hell he was having fun, he was relaxed, and he hadn’t even used any clichés. He raises his own bottle of beer, taking a large sip, her giggle broadening his own relaxed grin and a light chuckle escaping his own lips.

“They do say free booze is the best booze. I mean this is one of the greatest beers I’ve had, and I reckon that’s t reason why,”

He leans back slightly on the barstool, his arm resting against the bar top.

“Don’t you worry, my entire existence is based around the asking and answering of questions, these are far easier. From right here in New York, grew up just off Manhattan, according to the old man the Van Gerwens have been here since he first Dutch settlers, always used to harp on about that, absolutely ruin whatever social moment he was engaged in. But now I’m Manhattan proper, seventy five percent of my work is done on the Island, and hell there’s so much more to do. Apartment on the Upper Eastside, just me and Rex, I mean he's not the best housemate, loves hairs everywhere, getting a bit grumpy in his old age, and he hasn’t paid his half of the bills yet, but hey wouldn’t trade him for the world. Yourself, New Yorker born and raised or come from further afield?”

He glances up from her as the tinkling of piano keys stirs into life over the sound of the party. A very familiar opening notes to a song as a rendition of Paint it Black begins, only by the Boss' niece of all people. And hey she wasn't half bad either, he always had a thing for the piano. Admittedly it was first due to the ruthless lessons thrust apon him by his parents with a sour old German instructor, but after about a year of begruding cooperation he actually began to enjoy the ebony and ivory.

"Hey she's not too bad, better than a generic couple of songs in the background. Could always show off your terrible dancing now,"

He flashes her a teasing wink.

(Interaction: Bellz Roxie)

 

[Misty Gray]

James Porter​

The conversation between James and Gwen was interrupted when they heard Syd call out to the redhead. James turned to see his son and Assad approaching. There was more he could have said to his sister, but decided it was best for her to enjoy herself and have some distractions, so he welcomed the others over. James stood back as he watched Syd introduce Gwen to Assad and the three interacted.

Once a question was directed to himself, James gave a nod. "Yeah, I'm enjoying myself. It's lovely and peaceful out here," he joked. "But I will be heading back inside for more drinks. Not so sure about the dancing, though." Before he could change the subject, Assad picked up on the dancing comment and he quickly shook his head to deny all knowledge of such an accusation. "Not me. Never danced in my life, mate. Can't be proved in a court of law," he assured the man, though the smirk behind his words suggested he had indeed danced before. James than displayed an exaggerated offended expression as Gwen joined in. "I make a damn good statue, thank you very much."

By that point, Syd was clearly trying to control his amusement. "Alright, it's time for you three cheeky fuckers to get back inside. Go on. Bugger off and get some more soft drinks, kids!" he playfully ordered them, pointing back towards the house.

James also returned into the house, just in time to hear Savannah playing the first song on the piano. He made a beeline for the bar and requested another whiskey, wasting little time in knocking back all of the drink. He then approached Lucy and placed his arm around her waist. "Looks like you managed to sort out the Emery problem. Obviously, I came as quickly as I could..." he fibbed. As Savannah started playing the next song and began singing, James stood for a moment as he listened proudly to his niece. "Sinead and Peter did a good job there," he said, turning back to Lucy with a proud smile on his face. "Are you good? Need anything?" he offered his wife.


Bellz (Gwen, Lucy) Pyroclast (Syd) Inb4Cloaker (Farrid)

 

[Misty Gray]

Sinead Callahan​

Sinead felt her heart skip a beat when Peter said he loved her too. Her anxiety often caused her to catastrophise and after their earlier argument, she started to worry he'd never say such sweet words to her again. When he seemed to be on board with having plenty of drinks, she quickly nodded her head. "Maybe I miss having kids to take care of. Or, I at least owe you a few nurse maid duties after some of the times I've gotten crazy drunk."

Peter still hadn't seemed entirely convinced about Scott's integrity, but Sinead decided it was best not to push the subject and not to protest the man's innocence too much. She doubted her employee would even do anything to warrant negative attention from Peter and so she decided it was best to simply move on from the subject.

The sound of the piano was a welcome distraction from the topic of Scott and when she looked to see their eldest daughter was the source of the music, Sinead couldn't help but smile. Savannah had always been more introverted than Sinead had been at her age, so it amazed Sinead to see the young woman achieving so much. Sinead had been held back by her fears and nightmares of the bloodshed the Romanos had literally brought onto the stage during her own performances. She was deeply thankful Savannah lived in safer times and in an environment where she could reach her full potential. "Our children are so perfect," she told Peter, her voice faltering as she contained her overwhelming pride.

Sinead was pulled out of her thoughts when Peter offered his hand to invite her into another heartwarming moment. She accepted his hand and bashfully giggled. "It would be my pleasure to dance with you, Sir," she sweetly accepted his offer. She then allowed him to lead her to the dance floor before she turned to face him and moved in closer, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other resting on his waist. "Stay close to me, Petey," she quietly asked him, her words meaning both physically and emotionally.


Bellz (Peter)

 

[Bellz]

Roxanne Carriveau
​

Roxie leaned against the bar lightly, listening with interest of Mitch explained
where he was from. Giving her even more than what she asked for, she liked the fact that he could be so open and kind to her...unlike the last person she had talked to. She smiled with ease as he spoke about Rex, "He doesn't sound like the best roommate, but he does sound like a very good friend." Roxie hadn't ever had any animals herself. Her parents were allergic to a lot of things, or so they said and every year on her birthday or Christmas when she asked for a puppy or kitten, hell even asked for a snake one year...she was denied.

At his own version of her question, Roxie sighed lightly and set her drink down on the bar. "New Yorker born and raised as well. Though my family comes from a little town in Italy." There wasn't much she could get out after that before the piano began to play, capturing both her and Mitch's attention as they looked to see who was playing. Roxie's face lit up at the sight of Savannah and hearing her roommates voice caused a wider smile to form. Hearing Mitch's words, the brunette turned back to look at him. "She's an absolute star, really. Most pale in comparison to the one and only Savannah Callahan." Her cheeks slowly felt hot at the suggestion of showing off her terrible dancing.

"Oh no, you don't know what you are suggesting Mitch. We may be surrounded by members of the mob, but these feet are dangerous." Pointing to her heeled feet, she shook her head. A familiar voice sounded from behind Mitch and looking up, Roxie could see Syd with a redhead and another gentleman whom she hadn't met. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly at but her face remained cool. Looking back to the man before her instead of the man who rejected her, she sighed. She was wanting to know if the man was always like that with women, because it seemed that if he was married he had to at least have some manners. And the woman he was with now didn't seem to be miserable like she had been.

"I know this is a stupid question...but its going to bug me the rest of the night. Do you know Syd Porter? Is he always so rude to women? Because to be honest, I'm still feeling painfully embarrassed by what he did." Biting her lip, she hoped she didn't just scare Mitch away with her questions, but she couldn't help it. The man was seeming to have a good time now that he wasn't talking to her and she just couldn't understand what the hell she did wrong.

After a second of asking her question, she smiled, "I guess I can show you a few of my moves now. But you might want to stand a few feet back." With that, she polished off her wine before setting the empty glass down. She was definitely now starting to feel the alcohol with the music playing and her heart pumping. Holding her hands out to Mitch, her eyes briefly looked back to Syd, hoping his eyes would find hers before turning and heading to the dance floor.
with: Mitch RayPurchase
mentions: Syd Pyroclast ; Farrid Inb4Cloaker

Peter Callahan
​

Peter smiled widely as his wife accepted his hand to dance. Leading her to the dance floor, he was pleased to see that they were not the only couple around on it. Placing his hands in the right place, he stayed close to her as she wished and pulled her closer to him. Peter knew what she meant by those words, "I will." Peter murmured in return, though worry was etched on his face as he looked around the room as they slowly turned. The man knew that he could keep his promise about staying physically close to her, that was easy because here she was, right in his arms where she belonged. But staying emotionally close was a whole other thing. He didn't know if he could stay emotionally close to himself, let alone his wife. The years they had spent together arguing have wasted the years of love they could have shared. Peter blames himself for that every single day.

Maybe it was the guilt keeping him from truly being close, maybe he didn't deserve to love. No, he knew he didn't deserve it, not after everything he had done to his wife and children. It was a mystery to him why they still even gave him the time of day...why did he even give himself that time? Turning his head down, he tried to bury it into Sinead's shoulder by hunching his tall frame over a bit. His eyes water and he bit his lip hard as he tried to control himself. The last thing Sinead needed was for him to ruin the moment. It wasn't often that they got these types of moments together anymore, and she needed to have it.

The man suddenly started to hum, trying to cover up his cries with the song being played by his beautiful daughter. He song a few words before letting out a forced laugh in Sinead's ear lightly, "I'm afraid I'm not much of a singer like you and Savvy. But I really enjoy this, with you. I love you." By this time, he had sucked up whatever emotions were seeping out and was able to gain some self control. He knew that he had to enjoy this while it lasted, because it wouldn't last long.

Don't ask him why, but things would return to the way they were earlier...like it always did. They had their ups and downs, ins and outs...nothing was consistent with the Callahans any more. Peter just couldn't help it. He self sabotaged his life...there was no going back. But thinking on the words he spoke to Emery, the promise he had made about getting help....would he just lie about that and not try? Could he try? Peter wasn't confident..."I want help Sin.." He whispered to her.
with: Sinead Misty Gray

 

[Inb4Cloaker]

Farrid Al-Assad
​

Sharing in the joy of humor with Syd, Farrid found himself turning away from James to hide his amusement. With the group of three still poking fun at him, Assad caught his breath and faced back towards them just in time to see the nightclub owner reach for Gwen’s hand. With the corners of his mouth drooping, Assad wondered if Syd has been perceptive enough to catch him offering aid to the singer. Withdrawing the checkered cloth from his coat pocket, the medic peered over the brawler’s shoulder while taking a few steps forward. Scarves were not his usual treatment, but it was all he had on his person at the moment, and there were other variations of such fabrics back at home should he sacrifice this one helping the woman. Puncture marks as small as he saw were of no real concern, and he’d normally not intervene unless specifically asked, but he felt as though Gwen was troubled by it’s appearance. Prior reasoning, Syd noticing the injury, and assuming she wouldn’t want to be wiping blood on her dress again, was enough to push him to openly offer help.

“Miss, if you’d allow, I can wrap that real quick.” Before his offer could be addressed, James directed the trio to head inside and return to the party. Simultaneously, Syd began to lead them back into the now strangely silent house with a more restricted pacing. Giving a half shrug, the prior insurgent figured that Gwen would inquire about his assistance once inside if she was still seeking aid. Strolling over fallen leaves and lush grass, Farrid enjoyed the last few moments he spent outside before taking the stone steps back up to the party. Passing by his empty bottle, the Syrian driver swiftly plucked it from its resting place with the intention of not leaving waste lying around the Porter’s residence.

Passing the doorway back into the brightness of the mansion, Assad narrowed his eyes while walking alongside Syd. Dispoisng of the beer bottle in a nearby trash bin, he noticed that everything was still well, and lowered his suspicion once more. Suddenly, he began to distinguish the sound of a piano being played a short distance away, and it’s melody cut through the silence without hesitation. While it wasn’t necessarily the type of music he would listen to on his own time, it was still appealing to Assad and would fit the party atmosphere well. The medic was not musically inclined himself, but found great interest in learning about the various types of tones that were starting to spring up over time. He’d have to seek out the pianist later and issue them the compliments that they had earned. It wasn’t long before the group approached the bar.

Seemingly back to where he started the party off at, Assad kicked out a stool and sat down comfortably. He still held the knowledge that he’d be driving back closely, and opted to avoid the harder drinks until he was home again. He would’ve ordered the same beer that his drinking friend from earlier was partial to, but trying to say the brand name of it would be more trouble than he wanted to bargain for. Instead, he began to pursue the selections of wine with the idea that one or two glasses would be his limit for the party. Meanwhile, he immersed himself back in the environment and gave an expectant, yet clearly playful, look over in Syd’s direction.

“Are you gonna go tear it up man? I’m ready to take notes on how the Irish dance.” Letting a chuckle loose, Farrid didn’t know if his inebriated friend would take him up on the jest, but it was still worth a nudge. Resting his head on his fist, he propped his elbow upon the counter in a contented manner while surveying the partygoers. As some started to get up from their initial idleness and started to follow the source of music, Assad found himself casting inquisitive glances at the sparse few who were indeed starting to move their bodies in rhythm with the musical notes echoing off the walls. Informal dancing also wasn’t a skill that the medic possessed, however formal dances were another story, and a type of art that he devoted a healthy amount of practice to a long while ago. Unfortunately, as he noted outside, it’s been more than a few months since he such rehearsed such movements. Should the need for him to participate arise, he could only hope that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself.

الأصوات السلمية

Mentions: James Porter Misty Gray
Interactions: Syd Porter Pyroclast Gwen Bryant Bellz
Open for interactions.​

 

[Bellz]

Lucy Porter
​

Lucy clapped her hands together happily, "Oh thank you my dear! Of course you can stay, and I promise to help you!" She said before fetching someone to help her set up the piano and microphone. Once it was set up, Lucy stepped off to the side and smiled widely as her niece began to play. It was so great that Savannah had developed her mothers talents in music. She reminded her so much of Sinead it was almost like Angel never even existed. Blinking a few times, Lucy had to force herself to not think about the man as she turned away from the music and headed through the crowd.

When she did turn around again, she was surveying the crowd to see if everyone was enjoying themselves. She'd yet to let go and have some fun herself, but she hoped her husband didn't call her a hypocrite. Wondering where he was, she nearly jumped a foot when someone placed their arm around her waist, turning, she let out a breathless laugh as James spoke, clearly fibbing about coming as quickly as he could. "My hero." Lucy said flatly. giving him a sassy look before chuckling again. She watched as James listened to Savannah and her eyes roamed the man's face, taking advantage of the view before her. When he did turn back to her, her eyes were soft and wide.

At the mention of Savannah, Lucy nodded slowly. "They sure did." She murmured and as he offered to help her, the woman reached out to caress her husbands cheek. "A kiss and a drink sounds nice." She hummed sweetly before leaning in to kiss his lips gently. Making the kiss quick, Lucy pulled away before taking her husband's hands. "What took you so long?" She asked, maneuvering her way towards the bar. "I assume you were hiding from Emery...but James Porter doesn't hide for that long, unless you've grown more paranoid in your old age.l" As she slowed, her eyes looked towards the bar to see Syd and Gwen with Farrid. Her son seemed to be happy...her eyes narrowed, a little too happy. Looking back to James, she asked, "How much has Syd had to drink? Have you talked to him at all?"

They had talked earlier, but the conversation on the topic of alcohol was short. Syd needed to be careful with his medications, this wasn't the 50s and 60s anymore, new medical research was out. Mixing alcohol with the medication he was taking was dangerous, and he knew it. Regardless of that, Lucy was beginning to blame herself for not taking action sooner. Sure, he was having fun now, but he was going to crash...and who knew what that was going to be like.
with: James Misty Gray
mentions: Syd Pyroclast

 

[Bellz]

Gwen Bryant
​

Gwen covered her mouth with her good hand, watching Syd bust up the way he was. Finally at her suggestion, he seemed to get ahold of himself, but Gwen let out her own series of giggles, pointing at the man. "You are such...a dork!" She accused before Syd reached out and grabbed her bad hand. She hissed out suddenly at the sting of flesh against an open wound. Syd tore his hand away and Gwen looked away in shame suddenly. "No...N-no Syd it's okay." Her voice shook with the threat of tears. She wished he would leave her be, but to make things worse, he turned over her hand for all to see, "Syd." Gwen whimpered. His eyes narrowed and she wondered if he was going to be firm with her too. Holding her breath, she was surprised when Syd spoke of drinks.

Her head turned towards Farrid, and she was about to accept his offer when both Syd and James herded them inside. Biting her lip, the woman took one last look at her hand before leaving it to hang at her side. It was awkwardly quiet on the inside and Gwen hoped desperately that the music would be turned back on, given what just happened outside.

Moving to the crowded bar, Syd seemed to find some seats and Gwen hurried over to grab the one in the corner. Turning towards the bartender, she wasted no time ordering herself three drinks at once. A whiskey, a gin and an Irish car bomb. That would get her going. Her nerves were on fire and all she wanted to do was drown out the pain. The bartender looked at her with a bit of concern in his eyes but the woman glared at him so intensely, he turned away quickly.

Gwen slowly turned in her stool back towards the two men, laughing as Farrid express interest in seeing how the Irish dance. "Not all of us do the jig you know." She chimed in before looking to the medic directly., "I know it's probably nothin' but would ya mind taken a look? " She pointed to her limp hand, held delicately in the air away from her dress.

Her three drinks were set down in front of her and Gwen smiled lightly, "Sorry boys, ain't sharing any of these, you'll have to get your own."
with: Syd Pyroclast ; Inb4Cloaker Assad

 

[RayPurchase]

Mitchell Van Gerwen
Porter Residence

​

New Yorker, American-Italian, seems to like dogs… ticking boxes so far, I mean his father would be pissed off, spouting about Italian papists and a Mediterranean work ethic whatever that meant. But then again it wasn’t like he would have sought the old bugger’s permission, and hey a slight against him is just another box ticked he supposed. He glanced over towards Savannah and back towards Roxie. Most likely close friends he reckoned, she spoke like she knew her quite well. I mean that would definitely explain their close presence previously, and her invitation to tonight’s festivities.

“Well the good news is you’re not one of the most then, definitely hold a candle to her, even though I have very little experience in these things,”

He winks at her and places his now empty bottle of beer on the bar behind him. He glances down at the heeled foot she pointed out.

“What those delicate things? I would be very surprised indeed. Though saying that those heels could be rather painful,”

He wiggles his own leather brogues, grinning at her.

“Now these on the other hand, you’re looking at fractured shins and concussions if you’re unlucky,”

His grins slips a little as he glances over to Syd. Painfully embarrassed? Jesus, what the hell did he say, or do. I mean he wasn’t close friends with Syd, hell he’d met him on the brief occasion, but outside of business not much.

“I wouldn’t say I’m well acquainted with him. I haven’t heard anything bad mind you, come across as professional when ether I’ve encountered him, the number of times I could probably count on a couple of hands. I wouldn’t worry about it though, probably just an off night for him. Put it to the back of your mind eh, don’t let it ruin your night,”

Right here goes nothing, keep it slow, try to keep to the rhythm, and definitely don’t step on anyone’s toes. Especially Roxie’s, a bruised foot is hardly the best way to get to know someone. He pushes himself up off the barstool, he takes her offered hand, not noticing her glancing towards Syd.

“Oh I’ll have to remain close by, protect everyone else from your moves. That and I can blame any injuries I cause on yourself,”

(Interaction: Bellz Roxie)

 

[Misty Gray]

Sinead Callahan​

Sinead took a deep breath and briefly closed her eyes as she felt Peter bury his head into her shoulder. Continuing to sway to the music, she maintained her physical closeness to him, absorbing as much from their long overdue moment as she could. She heard as he hummed along to the music and it evoked a very soft smile from her. Peter then laughed into her ear which caused her to giggle as the air brushed upon the side of her face. "That tickles," she playfully told him. She lightly nodded her head when he told her he was enjoying the music and dancing with her. It melted Sinead's heart to hear him say that. After all of the arguing, crying and worrying; and after so many nights spent alone, hearing Peter repeat that he loved her filled her with more hope and more spirit to battle against their problems. "I miss dancing with you. I remember our first dance at our wedding and the way it seemed like nobody else was in the room. It was just you and me," she reminisced. Before she could go on to remind him of one of their first dates, she was forced into silence by the threat of her emotions getting the better of her. Instead, she simply smiled and decided to allow a couple of stray tears to escape from her eyes.

"You feel so tense," she told him. "When we get home I could--" she was about to offer to give him back and shoulder massage after the party, but the words he whispered to her distracted her from such an offer. He told her he wanted help and that caused her to move back a little so she could study his face for a moment. Her husband appeared so troubled and in some ways, she could only conclude broken and desperate. She quickly nodded in an encouraging manner. "Yes, you do, honey," she agreed with him. "Whenever I've been at my worst, our family and friends were here for me. They were kind and generous with their help, and I couldn't have survived without them. But it wasn't until I started seeing counsellors that I felt strong enough to fight and to live again," she admitted to him. "I want to help you as much as I can, but there are some things only a professional can help you with," she told him. "Promise me you will get that help?" she asked. "But not from my counsellor. She's really pretty and I'd be jealous," she teased, hoping to evoke a smile, at least. In honesty, Sinead had felt well enough to get by on her medication alone and had stopped her own sessions months ago, only booking the odd appointment when she felt any kind of serious relapse.


Bellz (Peter)

 

[Bellz]

Roxanne Carriveau
​

Roxie listened closely as Mitch explained his relationship to Syd. He didn't know the man well, but he assured her that it was probably nothing, the man was just having an off night. Nodding her head slowly, the woman knew it was probably useless to worry over him now. He rejected her, that was it. Here was a man in front of her, who wanted to talk to her and apparently wanted to see her horrible dance moves. Smiling as he took her hand, the pair walked towards the dance floor, Roxie not even giving Syd another glance as they walked away. The music slowed and ended, and the next started to begin. It was a faster beat, one that Roxie was sure to trip over.

She was happy to see that everyone else was beginning to dance as well, not wanting to be the two that dance in the middle of a talking room. Once they were on the floor, Roxie turned towards Mitch and smile shyly, "Alright, I think the man leads, if I remember correctly. See I'm telling you I'm no good at this?" She at least knew where her hands needed to be and placed one on his shoulder and the other in his hand. "I think we are in for some trouble here if we both step on each others feet so..." Roxie gently encouraged Mitch to begin with a beginning step, her head hanging down to look at her feet, concentrating with everything she had.

A moment later she looked back up and bit her lip, letting a laugh escape her, "I really don't know what I'm doing. I would say I could try and stand on your feet, but again...the heels." Roxie's eyes turned to look around the room for a moment, seeing that even more people were beginning to dance. It seemed that everyone was getting plenty to drink now and the mood was elevating by the second.

She was terribly embarrassed by the fact that she couldn't dance and to her, it was the lack of love her parents expressed to her that was to blame. She heard of plenty of little girls learning to dance with their fathers. Every father/daughter dance was missed, every school meeting, every ceremony. Her mind went back to the day she graduated from high school. Her parents never showed after she told them of her wishes, which were different from what they had planned for her.

When her eyes returned to look at Mitch, they expressed surprise at not having injured him or anyone else at this point. "Not bad, Mr. Lawyer, anyone try to teach you or did you figure it out on your own?"

with: Mitch RayPurchase

 

[Misty Gray]

James Porter​

James smiled when Lucy reached out to touch his cheek. "A kiss and a drink? I'm sure I can do--" he began, before his wife move in to place a kiss on his lips. When she pulled away and held his hands, he couldn't help but grin. "I'm sure we can do more of that after the party," he suggestively noted. As resistant as it often seemed, he appreciated the small breaks he was gifted when it came to family parties and get-togethers. It was the only time he could relax enough to enjoy himself and let his guard down for a few hours. Of course, he was often attending business dinners and parties, but they were work and brought with them a need to be constantly professional. He was fully aware that the following day he'd already have to focus again, so he knew to unwind for at least the next few hours.

At the bar, James let Lucy order her drink first before requesting yet another whiskey for himself. "Me? Hiding from Emery? Why would I hide from a teenager?!" he asked, playfully allowing his eyes to dart around as if he was genuinely afraid of his niece. "Paranoid? I prefer to call it cautious," he reminded her. "Honestly. I got held up as I noticed Gwen in the garden and had to speak with her." He briefly observed his sister before turning back to Lucy with a more serious expression. "She's been on that shit again and she's struggling, Luce. I think it's time I got tougher on her, even if she resents me for it... Whatever it takes," he trailed off. "Until we know she's okay, we can't leave her to look after Thomas on her own. I can't risk anything happening if she relapses and she doesn't need any added pressure when she's trying to fight the drugs." It wasn't that he didn't trust his sister, but he knew by now how powerful the addiction could be.

When asked about how much drink Syd had already had, James shrugged his shoulders. He looked over to their eldest son to see the man seemed to be enjoying himself. "I don't know. Enough to be taking the piss out of me, that's for sure," he said, turning back to Lucy with a grin on his face. "I spoke with him. He seemed fine," James told her. He allowed his face to turn neutral again as he studied Lucy's features for a moment. "I thought we were going to enjoy ourselves tonight?" he softly reminded her. He reached his hand up to Lucy's face as gently stroked her cheek before allowing his hand to lightly rest on her shoulder. "Do you think we should be worried about him tonight?"


Bellz (Lucy)

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

Drumming his hands atop the bar, Syd dropped onto a stool beside Farrid, and grinned at the bartender. "That's right, I'm back!" Glancing quickly to one side, his eyes fell upon Roxie, who was now talking to another man. His head dropped instantly, repelled by the sight of her as though he wasn't allowed to look. Perhaps he just wanted to avoid making eye contact. Being so closely involved with the business, Syd of course knew who the man was: their lawyer, Mitchell Van Gerwen. However, he didn't know him too well, and certainly wasn't keen to talk to him now, not when it would mean ending up back in conversation with a woman he had been so rude to before. When the bartender reached for the wine bottle he had previously been drinking from, Syd said, "No, no, nothing Italian. In fact, just...make it a whiskey. Something Irish, I don't care what."

The melodic sound of Savannah's piano playing made Syd turn his head then, and the room fell quiet for a moment as everyone acknowledged her performance. As soon as he clocked that she was playing Paint it Black by The Rolling Stones, Syd cheered her on. He knew that Emery shared much of the same interest in music as he did, but had never had Savannah down as a big enough fan of rock n roll to learn the Stones on the piano. As far as he was concerned, it was a great addition to his talented cousin's repertoire. His whiskey was soon set down in front of him and as he raised it to take a sip, Farrid asked him if he intended on moving to the dance floor. Syd was growing wearier by the minute, but his mood was so high that he was eager to keep partying for as long as he could last. "Just you watch me, brother. Just you watch me."

The song changed to an upbeat pop song by The Shirelles and the dance floor began to fill up. Still holding his glass of whiskey, Syd brought a hand down on Farrid's shoulder and got to his feet, ready to move in to join the crowd. With the nightclub and usual mob business having kept him busy, it had been a long time since Syd had allowed himself to let loose like this. Dancing somewhat sluggishly, he felt liberated, free from all the burdens that he carried from day to day. It was just like being a teenager again, except now with even more family around him. Looking back to the bar, Syd caught Gwen's eye and pointed to her, beckoning her over to dance with him. He knew she wasn't well, but if one night like this could make a difference to him, he figured it could make a difference to her, too. Within only a few minutes, however, dancing had become increasingly difficult. Vision wavering in and out of focus, the room and guests around him became a blur; Syd began to lose control, unable to dance properly yet equally unable to stand still. Losing sight of Gwen, Syd tried to raise his glass of whiskey to finish it off, but in doing so he ended up stumbling back and crashing into somebody. Before he had even taken a sip, the glass jolted, spilling its contents onto the unfortunate nearby dancer. Despite his delayed reactions, Syd spun round to apologise - but as soon as he saw that blue dress, now splashed with whiskey, the words caught in his throat and he simply stood for a second, shocked at having bumped into the very woman he had wished to avoid. "Roxie, oh no...I'm so sorry," he slurred, instinctively reaching one hand out to her. However, still feeling somewhat intimidated by her, his nerves stopped him before he could lay a hand on her. He glanced to the lawyer who must have been dancing with her, eyes narrowing to adjust his focus, then looked back to the woman. "Are you okay? Please forgive me. I think I...might go sit down."

Interactions
Bellz Roxie, Gwen
RayPurchase Mitch
Inb4Cloaker Farrid
Misty Gray Savannah

 

[Inb4Cloaker]

Farrid Al-Assad
​

Following the change in music, Farrid gave a mock look of disappointment towards Gwen as she commented about dancing. Thankfully, Syd elicited a broad smile from Assad as he started to take up Farrid on his own inquiry. Holding steady, he acted as a stabilizer while the nightclub owner rose from his seated position and made way to the dance floor. Witnessing his somewhat unbalanced movements, he made a mental note to keep a subtle watch on his friend for the remainder of the party. Farrid wanted to ensure Syd remained safe for the night, and felt as though he was starting to hit his limit on alcohol.

“Hell yeah! Just watch out, it’s getting crowded up there.” He called out after him, preparing to observe before having his attention drawn to Gwen. Immediately recalling the injury she sustained while outdoors, his expression softened as he rotated his stool to assist the singer.

“Oh, yes of course. It’s not anything serious, and it should heal on its own. I’ll just wrap it to keep any discomfort outta the way. May I?” Farrid would first ask, outstretching his arms to take hold of Gwen’s own drooping hand after being rendered the proper permission. Gingerly, Assad turned it palm up and surveyed the marks once again before using his free hand to withdraw the wrapped scarf once more. Typically, he’d rinse the marks first, but, he didn’t want to bother the singer with the troubles of such procedures, especially for something as minor as this. Keeping a gentle grip on the woman’s arm, he deftly began to create a firm wrapping over her palm. Ensuring that the makeshift bandage wasn’t too bulky, his skills resulted in a well placed and effective shield from further harm. Satisfied with his work, the medic focused intently while tying off the dressing, still ensuring that he wasn’t being as forceful with the singer; as he commonly was with mob associates. Typically, those who were mob affiliated, namely Syd, would get a brief overview of what the Syrian driver was about to do, and would be teased about how it’d be more humane to just amputate the entire limb. For whatever reason, Assad had a gut feeling that Gwen wouldn’t react too well if she was teased in the same way. Relinquishing his hold on the woman, he released a sigh of relief and smiled warmly.

“Aaaand done. Simple and easy.” He said confidently, looking over Gwen’s drinks. He never heard of an Irish car bomb, well, in the form of an alcoholic beverage, so his interest was piqued. Discarding his pursuit of wine, he instead ordered that very drink and elected to let that finish his night. Initially watching as it was in the process of being produced, Farrid soon felt his vision drift over to Syd once again. Laughing heartily, the prior insurgent buried his head in his hands and rolled his eyes in surprise. Without a doubt, Farrid would not let him live down how he danced tonight, as the inebriated brawler was clearly having difficulty performing elegant moves. Despite the humor in the situation, the medic was still cautious of his condition and was prepared to help him should he topple over or embarrass himself. Upon receiving his drink, Farrid inspected it before taking a testing sip. Simultaneously, he nodded his head towards the dance floor.

“I think he’s trying to get you over there. By the way, this drink...” Farrid started, but abruptly paused, squinting while halfway standing from his seated position. From within the crowd, the medic had spotted a disturbance stemming from Syd’s direction. While he couldn’t actively determine what occurred, he deduced that the nightclub owner had, indeed, embarrassed himself somehow. He may be specialized in saving others from unfortunate outcomes, but this was one situation that left him unsure in terms of approaching. He didn’t want to be pestering the man, and he also knew that Syd wasn’t in any physical danger, so Assad glanced over at Gwen for a solution.

“I...I think he just did a dumb.” He didn’t know why that was the first sentence to pass from his lips, nor why the phrase couldn’t be articulated in a more professional way, but the medic was still sure that his point got across. Blaming the alcohol was an option, so he opted to claim that his drink was hindering his ability to speak clearly. Hopeful that the singer would take action, Assad calmly continued to observe the dance floor for any further changes.

الأصوات السلمية

Mentions: None.
Interactions: Syd Porter Pyroclast Gwen Bryant Bellz
​

​

 

[Bellz]

Peter Callahan
​

Peter was tense, despite doing his best to try to try and remain relaxed. Sinead seemed to pick up on it, but he had interrupted her on accident. Her nods of encouragement caused him to look closely into her eyes as she spoke. She talked about being at her worst, and how people were there for her. But she really didn't start to get the help until she saw her therapists, that she felt the will to live again. Peter remember such a time when things were different, when he was carrying her on his shoulders when she was down, never wanting to have her focus on too many things at once in such a delicate time, he use to make sure everything was taken care of for her.

Now look at him. They fought constantly, and Peter wasn't clueless to the fact that it was him who started shit most of the time. He nodded his head slowly as Sinead said there was only so much she could do to help, he understood that much. Maybe that was why he got so frustrated sometimes. He wanted her help so badly, but this was just beyond her help at this point and there was nothing she could truly do to make permanent change in him. As they had their conversation, the feeling as if they were the only two in the room felt alive and well again. Peter enjoyed the time he had now, speaking with his wife without them yelling at each other. He needed to try harder to make sure they had more nights like this. He would make sure of it somehow.

"Oh okay. Not your counselor, I get it. Miss Jealous." He teased her lightly before rolling his eyes lightly. Before he could say much more, there seemed to be a commotion coming from the opposite side of the dance floor, catching his attention briefly, he spotted Syd looking mortified and another woman looking like she just got bathed. "Uh oh." Peter mumbled lightly before turning back to Sinead. "Looks like I'm not drunk enough. You want to head to the bar with me so I can fetch another drink?" He asked, their dance slowly coming to a close as the next song came to an end.
with: Sinead Misty Gray

 

[Trappy]

Braden

Between the woman in tears leaving with haste, and the emotions observed on Bailey, the young man couldn't help but feel as if he had interrupted his associate at a wrong time. 'Oh this day's been just lovely.' - Braden muttered to himself as his eyes traced after the leaving lady. Troubles seemed to follow him everywhere today, from arguments between his parents and now this. To be frankly honest, Braden wasn't particularly pleased about these developments. Back to Bailey, Braden studied the looks of her. The young man had long admired the enthusiasm and positiveness she inspires, and working with the associate had always been easier for him than dealing with his own family, such as they were. But here, the image of a cheer-inspiring Bailey seemed to drop for just a moment, and Braden noticed the troubled look she was wearing - something no doubt related to the woman who stumbled away. However, Braden wasn't one to dig up past problems, instead, he gave her an inquisitive look.

"... I suppose it could have been better, but I'll be right as rain." - Bailey replied to his query. "How are ya, Braden? You wouldn't mind if we fix ourselves a couple o' drinks, would ya?"

"Yep. It could have been better, but leave it behind. Let's get some drinks." He said after a short pause. They drowned the troubles with alcohol, and Braden hoped that days after would treat both the two of them better.

Interacted: Bailey ( Pilgrim59 )
Mentioned: Gwen ( Bellz )

 

[Pilgrim59]

Bailey Baker
The Porter's Residence, Queens, New York
July 2nd, 1971 (Evening)

Interacted: Braden ( Trappy ), James Porter ( Misty Gray )
Mentioned: Gwen ( Bellz )

​

Bailey once again reengaged the packed party. But this time, she had embraced the fabrics of melancholy thoughts. She was somewhat glad that she was not drinking alone. Braden, a bright young man, albeit hailing from a family that the girl had seen little of. She repeated these thoughts, as if she was a new face to the gang. It only grew worse with each grand gathering. Discerning the mishaps that she had caused Gwen, there were so many faces that Bailey has yet to make sense of. These troubles were eventually bypassed with a few drinks, but one can never forget nor forgive one self's actions, let alone the aftermath of said consequences. Being the intrinsic creature of habit that she is, Bailey concealed her emotions with each sip. Braden's restraint was more than enough to let the girl breathe.

Contrary to common beliefs, Bailey's girly attires and eccentric personality has yet to show any progress towards the understanding of her own sex. Even unto herself, there were times she had pondered upon her thoughts - what really made a woman? How does one even come to fathom their complex thoughts, let alone others? Bailey let out a heavy sigh, as she clinked her tumbler glass against Braden's, of whom was all but talkative. Instead, he had lent her his ears. A sweet and endearing trait that she was fond of when it comes to this one particular Callahan. There were small talks inbetween - ones that served to distract the girl from her gloom.

"I despise circumstances as such. Where you would have to be the one to indulge me in my own vices." Bailey shook her head slightly.

"...but... it's nice to see another friendly face. I've gotta give the boss his dues. I... appreciate your company, Braden." she claimed, stretching a grateful, yet melancholic smile across her face.

"Also... Bailey is fine. The 'miss' part makes me nervous, ya know?" she turned back briefly, giggling a bit.

Bailey settled the bottle's end with a long sip, before taking off. Before long, her tipsy waltz across the crowd had brought her to the mastermind of all said splendors. Bailey leaned forward slightly, with her hands tightly grasped upon her purse.

"Mr. Porter! First of all, you look great. Second. I may or may not have siphoned most of your whiskeys. Feel free to mark that from my paycheck. But more importantly... I know it's two days early. But like everyone else before me, I've got you a little something as well!" Bailey cheerfully made her introduction into the scene.

Unveiling a neatly wrapped box from her satchel, the girl extended her arms forward with the weighty box in her grasps. The elegant gift was all but delicate. There was a certain weight to it that was far from a simple piece of clothing, given the choice of black wrappings and gold ribbons. Given her profession, it was an easy guess for those that worked wih her long enough. After all, it was the one of the thing she was good at.

"It may not be as grand as the others, but I hope you like it!" Bailey continued, smiling away all her troubles with the whiskey still lingering about.

The girl was quite excited as she was as eager as the others for James to open his present. It had reminded her of the old traditions of Secret Santa. The thrills of unboxing a gift from someone, as well as being the one to prepare one, were some of the things the eccentric gunrunner enjoyed.

 

[RayPurchase]

Mitchell Van Gerwen
Porter Residence

​

Mitch glanced about the dancefloor, very much thankful for the fact that there was a suitable amount of cover in place from other couples and individuals taking to the dancefloor, avoiding being the centre of attention for his dancing escapades was both comforting and reassuring. He can’t help but smile broadly as she places her hands on his shoulder. He places his left hand on her hip, and gently grasps her own hand in his right. Straightening himself up slightly.

“Here goes nothing then, leading us straight to a social disaster, I’m not sure what’s better each other’s feet or someone else’s feet. Just remember enough confidence and we’ll breeze by,”

Taking a deep breath, he takes the first step, it’s a bit of a faster number now, flicking his gaze between her and his own feet as they began to dance. It was nothing complicated, no fast direction changes or anything too fancy, and hey they were pretty much in rhythm to the music He glances down at her heels, and then back up to her, a look of worry crossing his features.

“I mean in a perfect world I would want to be able to walk home if need be. Tell you what though if it starts getting that bad I’ll take one for the team, and you can jam those heels onto my feet,”

The place was jumping now, plenty of dancers, clearly the alcohol had now had a chance to kick in and take effect, everyone a bit looser now. And hey that hadn’t made a fool of themselves, blend in to a big enough crown and pretend to know what you’re doing, can pretty much get you through any situation. He chuckled and gave a little shrug of his shoulders.

“A few people tried they all failed. I’m going to put this all down to luck, the fact I haven’t crushed your own feet is a minor miracle, and still got all my toes as well. Clearly better than you think, must be that Italian blood,”

He grinned down at her, the awkwardness that had been hanging over him before the party slipping away as he danced with the beauty. This was fun, a hell of a lot more fun than sitting at home with Rex having one way conversations, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had even danced, let alone with someone like Roxie. He cleared his throat with a little cough.

“Hey I don’t suppose, maybe if you fancy it some time, I mean if you’re free of course, if you’d like to meet up for a…”

Before he can make a suggestion about said drink, his rambling finally coming to an end, he loses his balance stumbling a little as something impacts the pair, the hand pressed against her waist being splashed by something, leading him to release it in shock, the smell of whiskey hit him quite quickly, like someone had just dropped an entire glass. That’s when his eyes flicked up and met Syd’s. His eyes widened slightly, the guy did not look good and… he almost took a step back as Syd’s eyes narrowed, was he glaring at him. He takes a step forward though, steeling his backbone and placing himself between Syd and Roxie. The closer he got the more unhinged the guy looked, Christ was he drunk already?

“Syd, you’re not looking great there, I think a seat could be a good idea,”

He glances back over his shoulder towards Roxie, giving her a re-assuring smile, even if internally he wasn’t exactly an oasis of calm, between the Boss’ inebriated son, and clearly a woman he had his attention on.

“We’ll find some water and towels, it’ll come right out,"

(Interaction: Bellz Roxie, Pyroclast Syd)

 

[Bellz]

Roxanne Carriveau
​

Roxie let out an easy laugh as Mitch said that he would take one for the team. She shook her head, doing her absolute hardest to keep in step and not end up smashing the poor man's toes. The brunette was really enjoying herself now that she let Syd wander from her thoughts, taking Mitch's words seriously, she wasn't going to let the man ruin her night. Roxie swayed happily and smiled widely as Mitch chuckled and shrugged his shoulders at her question. This was all luck for him, and Roxie felt like she could relate to that as well. Her cheeks turned warm as Mitch complimented on her dancing, stating that it must have been her Italian blood. "Must be." She giggled in return, meeting his eyes as he grinned down at her.

The whole room seemed to be dancing now and Roxie was relieved that they weren't the only ones. The way she had been feeling before, defeated and embarrassed, was no more. Mitch managed to change her mood within a matter of moments and she was grateful that he came up to speak with her. When he cleared his throat, Roxie's eyes flickered from around the room back up to his eyes.

His question caused her to smile a bit wider, already knowing where he was going with the question, she started to nod her head quickly. But before he could even finish what he was saying, someone bumped into her hard and in the next second, her dress was drenched in what smelled like whiskey. Roxie's mouth hung open in shock as she tried to process what just happened. Mitch released her, and with good reason as she was now sopping wet. Turning around to see who had done this to her, her mouth hung open even more before she snapped it shut and pointed her finger at Syd. Mitch stood between Syd and herself, but that didn't keep her from speaking over his shoulder. "You can't just leave me alone!? Haven't you embarrassed me enough?" She hissed out venomously, his apologies would do nothing to sooth her. Before she could help herself, her hand whipped out and landed itself firmly across Syd's face. It was probably foolish to lay a hand on the son of the mob boss, but she didn't give a shit. "I don't know what your fucking problem is, but leave me alone!"

Her whole body shook with anger and as she looked around the room, she noticed everyone's eyes were now on the three of them, especially her. Taking a step closer to Mitch, she found comfort in the man's reassuring smile. "I just want to get away from here." She murmured lightly into his ear, starting to take a few steps away from the crowd until a blonde woman she had seen speaking with Syd before was pushing her way through the people.

"Alright alright, accidents happen people. Nothing to see here." Lucy had immediately left the conversation with James and Bailey upon seeing the scene. She immediately came to the woman's aid, knowing that James would handle Syd while she took care of their guest. "Don't worry darling, I know its a shame to lose such a beautiful dress but I'm sure I have something that will fit." She tried to calm the woman, who looked like she was about to die of embarrassment.

Biting her lip, Roxie accepted the help from the beautiful blonde woman who was leading her away from the crowd and Mitch. "I'll be back." She told the lawyer, following Lucy into the crowd, they moved towards the stairs to find her something else to wear.

With: Mitch RayPurchase ; Syd Pyroclast
mentions: James Misty Gray ; Bailey Pilgrim59

 

[Misty Gray]

James Porter​

James and Lucy were soon joined by Bailey and the mob boss turned to give the young woman his full attention. He grinned when she told him he looked great. "Well, that's much appreciated. Finally, someone not telling me I'm an old man," he commented. When she mentioned having consumed much of the whiskey, James shrugged his shoulders and opened out his arms in a manner that showed it was perfectly fine, so there was no need to consider repaying him.

When Bailey brought the gift into view, James gratefully accepted it from her. "I'm being spoiled tonight," he trailed off. As he felt the weight of the box, something of a gleeful smile grew on his face. The weight seemed familiar to him and brought a kind of expectation he knew he probably shouldn't hold. Instead, he decided he should open it before trying to assume what was inside. He quickly unwrapped the gift, placing the paper and ribbon delicately on the bar next to him. He then opened the box to find a shiny new pistol and a cravat inside. His smile grew as he balanced the box in his left hand and used his right hand to lift the handgun so he could get a better feel for the weight. "Thank you, Bailey. This is an excellent gift - someone knows me well," he told her. He returned the pistol into the box. "This is much appreciated," he sincerely told her.

James was about to playfully gloat to Lucy about his gift, but they were all soon distracted by some kind of commotion nearby. He watched Lucy rush off and he soon realised Syd was involved in the scene, just in time to see Roxie slap the young man across the face. "Well..." he began, sending Bailey an awkward glance. "I was starting to feel uncomfortable with the lack of drama tonight. Normality has been restored..." he remarked.

Keeping hold of the gift in his left hand, James quickly walked over to the scene of the commotion and swiftly wrapped his right arm around Syd's shoulder so he could lead him away from the crowd. "We need some air, mate," he told Syd, not leaving it open for discussion. James cast another brief glance to where Lucy had led Roxie away, but decided to leave them to it so he could focus on Syd. As then approached the garden, James let out a sigh and looked to his son. "What happened?" he asked. His tone remained level, with no sign of accusation or anger. He wasn't one to jump to conclusions and, given the amount of alcohol being consumed, he was hoping there had just been some kind of misunderstanding.


Bellz (Lucy) Pilgrim59 (Bailey) Pyroclast (Syd)

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

All Syd cared about in that moment was that the beautiful woman would forgive him for his clumsy behaviour. He kept his eyes on her, but to his dismay a look of fury crossed her face and it became clear that she wasn't about to go easy on him. Mitch stepped between them then, reinforcing his idea to take a seat somewhere. As exhausted as he was, he found he couldn't tear himself from the spot, not with Roxie looking at him the way she was. If he left now, there would be no chance of sorting out the minor altercation between them, and Syd didn't want anyone to be upset with him. The lawyer spoke without any tone of accusation, only as though he was concerned with putting an end to the situation before it could get worse. Even so, Syd wished he would step out of his way. As far as he was concerned, it had nothing to do with him. The fact that he was defending Roxie made him feel slightly bitter, a feeling almost resembling jealousy. Before he could tell the man to get lost, however, Roxie spoke up to defend herself. Syd looked hopelessly at her, wishing there was something he could do or say. Her next words were lost on him as a harsh strike across the face knocked the breath out of him, causing him to twist round in shock. A sharp, stinging pain spread across his face and he did well not to drop his now-empty whiskey tumbler to the floor. It was all he could to remain standing - to lose his balance completely would make things far worse, with all the eyes now staring their way.

Soon he was being whisked away from the dance floor, an arm holding him tightly by the shoulder. The cool evening air greeted him once again - it had only been a matter of minutes since he had last been outside, and Syd found himself instinctively reaching for his cigarette case as though he had come out at his own decision. His feet couldn't stand their ground anymore, but as soon as he heard his father's voice ask him what happened, he looked up to meet the man's eye and it prompted him to try to stay at the man's level out of respect. Waving the tumbler in one hand and the silver case in the other, Syd shook his head, shifting from foot to foot as he tried his best to stay upright. "I don't know, dad," he slurred, looking miserably to the floor. "I fell into her, or something, I fucked up her dress and she hit me. I didn't mean to hurt her, I swear...I'm sorry." Somehow, he managed to put a cigarette between his lips and put his case away. He held it as though it was lit, but in fact he never got as far as finding his lighter. "But hey, bangin' party...really...I hope it's everything you wanted." Syd advanced towards his father and wrapped his arms tightly around the man, resting his weary head on his shoulder and closing his eyes, ready to fall asleep. "Happy birthday, man."

Interactions
Bellz Roxie
RayPurchase Mitch
Misty Gray James

 

[Misty Gray]

Chapter 2: The Big City
Saturday 3rd July 1971
...the next day...
Afternoon - Sunny, Warm, Dry
******************************

******************************


Porter Family Apartment
~ Upper East Side, Manhattan ~
​

James Porter

James hadn't gone overboard with the alcohol the previous night, especially with the knowledge he had to be up early and back in the city the next morning for business. When he woke up the next morning, he made sure to stay for breakfast with Lucy, Thomas, and anyone else who was still around at the time. He knew his family would have preferred for him to stay at the mansion for the day, but the best he could do was assure them he'd be home for dinner. Deciding to let Farrid have the morning to himself following the party, James grabbed a ride into the city with Warren who had already offered to drive Savannah back to Manhattan.

Once at his large apartment, James spent much of the morning going over paperwork and making calls. Billy Granger had managed to spill some details to his captors and that made James more willing to stick by his decision to keep the man alive for a little while longer. It would be a waste to kill him when there was still a good chance of squeezing more information out of the backstabbing weasel. It was one particular admission that had caught James' attention and he'd spent the morning getting confirmation from sources he trusted. That had in turn led to James requesting Dante's immediate presence in his office as mid-afternoon drew close. He had a job that he was sure the man's expertise would make light work of.

Warren was guarding the inside of the apartment, keeping himself stationed by the door. The two brothers would often make very little conversation, with Warren always taking his time on duty very seriously and James often appreciating the lack of distractions. However, the mob boss soon found himself with a little downtime which allowed him to sit back and consider the job he needed Dante to do. In the past, he would have been open to hearing out those who had crossed him and give them an opportunity to redeem themselves. But that had only brought more danger and loss to his doorstep. He pushed up his left shirt sleeve, allowing himself study scar that ran down his arm. He had many scars, most of which on his upper body, which all had a story behind them and most had taught him a lesson over his lifetime. The one on his left arm had been inflicted by Gideon Burnell and had served as a reminder of how showing mercy in the past had endangered those he cared for. James had spent a couple of weeks in hospital and even longer at home recovering, having sustained a broken arm, ribs and eye-socket on that violent night. After that experience, there was no time for mercy or second chances in his line of work, not if he was to hold onto those he loved and the empire he had built.


@shadowz1995 (Dante)

New York Correctional Facility
~ Lower Manhattan ~
​

Conor Sullivan

Conor had woken up in a particularly bad mood that morning - more so than normal for the man who was frustrated about still being stuck in prison. The fact he'd spent the night thinking of all of his family and how he had no doubt been missing a great party had sent him off to sleep feeling miserable. His mood hadn't improved after sleeping on it. As the day went on, Conor chose to spend the afternoon recreation time alone in his cell rather than working out in the gym or playing board games with those he considered friends.

As he laid back on the almost adequate mattress, his peace was disturbed when another inmate slipped into his cell and stood a couple of feet from Conor's bed. "We're planning to jump Donnie and his gang tonight. We could do with your help, Sullivan," Clint told him.

"No..." Conor distantly replied, keeping his vision focused straight ahead rather than looking to the man he was responding to. "I'm not getting involved in this one."

"Ah, come on! We need you. Mate, with your strength and connections, you could run this fucking place. Donnie's gaining friends and if we're not careful, he'll be running everything around here. That guy's dangerous, but you could knock him the fuck back down," Clint pleaded his case.

Conor finally turned to the man and sat upright before suddenly standing up so he was towering Clint. "When I said no, that was your cue to stop spewing that shit to me. I'm trying to stay out of trouble so I can get out of this hole and back to my family. Donnie doesn't scare me and I'll be out of here before he gets more morons together to suck his dick for him." Conor clenched his fists as he reminded himself to stay calm and keep his aggression locked away. The last thing he wanted to do was jeopardise the hard work of his shrink and his lawyer. "I know you're in this place for a long time, so all the more reason for you to learn how to fight your own battles. Just leave me out of it, alright? I have a chance to get out of here real soon, so I ain't wasting it."

**********​

Later in the afternoon, Conor and a dozen other prisoners were led to the large visiting room where they were all seated at their own table whilst awaiting the arrival of their visitors. As he sat at the table, he looked to the two empty seats that were facing him and he wondered who was coming to see him. Whilst he always enjoyed visits from his siblings and friends, he hoped it would be Seana bringing Leo in to see him. He'd learned no to expect Aliana anymore, so Seana was the next best thing as she would always have Leo with her.


@Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)

All That Jazz (Jazz Club)
~ Upper West Side, Manhattan ~
​

Sinead Callahan

Keeping to her word, Sinead didn't have much to drink at James' party as she wanted to give Peter the freedom to get drunk and possibly enjoy himself. By the time they needed to head back home, Peter was indeed highly intoxicated. Having only had a cocktail at the start of the evening, Sinead drove the Callahans back home, with the exception of Savannah who had chosen to stay over at the Porters' house. Whist the blonde's excuse was that she wanted to stay until the end, Sinead wasn't entirely convinced it was her only reason for not wanting to go home with them and sleep in the bedroom they'd kept as hers.

Once home, Sinead helped Peter upstairs and tended to him until he was fast asleep in bed. When she woke the next morning, she was curled up on her side of the bed with her back to her husband. She rolled onto her back and turned her head so she could look at Peter as he continued to sleep. Although they'd had a small time of peace and closeness at the party, she was unable to ignore the fragility of it all. She was uncertain of whether he would wake up happy to see her or if he'd wake up in a bad mood. Would they start their day with more arguing? She reached her hand out to gently stroke the man's cheek as he continued his deep sleep. "Please come back..." she whispered.

Sinead soon got out of bed and went into the bathroom to shower. Taking advantage of the time alone and the sprinkling water blocking out any sound, she allowed herself the time to cry, to let out all of the emotions that had built up since their argument the previous day. She felt helpless and from that she felt selfish for thinking of herself. She'd been broken many times in the past and her family, especially Peter, had been there to put her together again. Now Peter was the one who needed supporting and she kept telling herself she had to suck up her own feelings for the sake of making sure her husband received the help he needed.

Once dressed, Sinead headed downstairs. She was surprised to see Emery ready for the day ahead and that was her cue to put on a bright smile so her kids didn't have to worry too. "I'm making some sandwiches for lunch before I head to work. I'm taking requests. What do you want in yours, beautiful?" she brightly asked her youngest daughter.

"Thanks for the offer, Mum. But I'm going to Katie's for a bit and her parents said I could eat lunch there," Emery informed her. Her friend only lived a five minute walk away, so she knew there wouldn't be any arguments. "I'll see you at the club in a few hours," she said, placing a kiss on Sinead's cheek before rushing out of the house.

"Don't be late!" Sinead called out. Emery had been wanting some new clothes and a guitar, but her parents had told her to earn the money herself. As a result, the teenager had taken some shifts at the jazz club. Sinead was looking forward to training her daughter and getting to spend some time with her. It wasn't only Peter who was slipping away from her, but she felt like her kids were barely around either, now old enough to be doing their own thing. After a deep sigh, Sinead continued on with making up some sandwiches for Peter and Braden. She made a small one for herself but after a couple of bites, her appetite remained absent and so she ended up her sandwich away.

One it was time to go to work, Sinead returned upstairs. "Peter, I've made some sandwiches for when you get up and you should probably have yourself a strong coffee." She walked over to the bedside table next to Peter, placing a glass of water and an aspirin down for him. She looked to see he appeared to still be asleep. "Okay... Well, um. Katie's dad is going to bring Emery to work in a few hours and I'll be working until late. If you want me..." she trailed off, but fell silent. "That's where I'll be if you need me." She watched him for a moment before walking away.

Sinead arrived at the jazz club and approached Scott at the bar as he chatted with the barman. "Afternoon, Sinead," Scott pleasantly greeted her. He soon picked up on the fact the smile on her face wasn't a genuine one and she appeared troubled. He asked the barman to continue serving before speaking quietly to Sinead. "Do you need to talk? I'm always happy to listen, you know that," he said, sending her a reassuring smile.

"No..." Sinead said, quickly shaking her head. She stared at Scott for a moment, only now remembering Peter's words the night before and her husband's apparent threats towards her employee. She had no reason to suspect there was anything untoward about Scott, but the last thing she wanted was for him to get hurt. "I'll be fine. Can you make sure the stage equipment is ready for tonight's performance? Before it starts getting busy in here," she abruptly asked, not making time for personal conversation.


Mention: Bellz (Peter)

************​

Emery Callahan

Emery had enjoyed the party the night before, especially as she'd managed to get a couple of drinks from Peter and Lucy. The only thing that soured the night for her was when it had been time to leave and Savannah had opted to stay over at the Porter house for the night. Not only did she miss spending time with either of her siblings, but it irritated her to think the reason her sister was staying away was because of their parents. It was easy for Savannah to distance herself from the arguments that went on at home, but Emery felt trapped and forced to go through it all on her own. Sometimes she wondered if it would be easier for her parents to just split up and then she wouldn't have to hear them fighting anymore. But deep down, she just wanted her parents to get their heads sorted out and to be as close as she remembered them being back when she was a little girl.

Emery had been eager to get out of the house for the day and had gone to her friend, Katie's house for lunch and hang out with her for a few hours. As it approached 2pm, she knew she would need to think about heading to the jazz club. She was looking forward to helping her mother out at work and to earn some money for herself along the way.

St James Theater; and The Lomax
~ Midtown, Manhattan ~
​

Savannah Callahan

"If you're not aiming for perfection, then you don't belong in this business. Start over!"

Savannah rolled her eyes as she sat on the front row seat watching on as Andre berated the youngsters who were practising their scenes as members of 'I'm unculturedin's Gang'. She wasn't involved in the particular scene and hadn't had to rehearse anything since two hours ago. It had been six hours since she arrived at the theatre for rehearsals and she was growing bored of spectating as the manager berated everyone for performances she felt had been great. "How much longer are we going to be?" Savannah quietly asked, catching Andre's attention without interrupting those rehearsing on stage. "We were meant to break off for lunch two hours ago..."

"Lunch?" Andre asked, turning to face the blonde Callahan daughter. "You don't need lunch, love. I've seen some of your photo-shoots. You'll spoil that amazing figure and it's too late to be getting your Nancy costumes altered if you start piling on the pounds," he told her. He sent her a charming smile, as if she was meant to take his rude comment as a compliment. The man looked to his watch and let out a groan. "You can get off for the day, Savannah. You've been spot on today, so I don't need you to run through anything else... I suspect these little retards are going to occupy the rest of my afternoon."

Savannah quirked a curious eyebrow at Andre's offensive choice of words, but she knew to hold her tongue. One day she would land an even bigger role and would be managed by someone else. She was sure she'd have to channel her redheaded family members and give Andre a piece of her mind when that day did come. "Alright. See you Monday!" she simply told him as she started walking to the dressing room to change out of costume.

"Tomorrow!" Andre corrected her, as if expecting she would show up on a public holiday.

"Dream on, darling. I said Monday!" she called back, without stopping or turning to face him.

**********​

Savannah wasted no time in changing back into her red dress, which landed a few inches above her knees, and a pair of high heeled shoes, as was normal for her. She always liked to make an effort with her choice of clothing and that was mostly down to her own need for perfection. Whilst she never judged others for their own dress sense, she was often highly critical of herself and so had to make an effort to please her own eyes more than anyone else's. One thing she was sure of was that Andre's penchant to belittling others on their weight grated on her. Knowing her own underweight mother had suffered with eating disorders in the past meant the man's rude words often hit a nerve with Savannah and it made it all the more difficult for her to hold her tongue when the man became offensive.

It was only a ten-minute walk to Savannah's intended destination, so she set off walking on foot to The Lomax. She was hoping to catch up with Syd after the party the night before. After the commotion that had occurred during his drunken dancing, she wanted to know what had happened with him and Roxie. If he needed help building bridges, she wanted in. As far as she was concerned, her cousin really needed help! Plus, she didn't want any bad blood between her family and her friends. After a walk through the busy city, she finally reached the nightclub and flashed a smile to the familiar security guards who didn't need to think twice about allowing the young woman entry. She headed towards the bar where she was sure she could order a snack, but she kept scanning the club for any sign of Syd.

Pyroclast (Daniel)

Currently Active Cast: Misty Gray Bellz Pyroclast @Melanin-Gxdess Fletchawk @shadowz1995 Inb4Cloaker Pilgrim59
​

 

[Bellz]

Chapter 2: The Big City
Saturday 3rd July 1971 ...the next day...
Afternoon - Sunny, Warm, Dry



Roxanne Carriveau
​

Roxie woke up early in the morning to find that she wasn't in her room. Blinking in confusion for a few seconds, it took her a moment to realize where she was. The black dress that Lucy had let her borrow the night before was still on her, scrunched up to above her knees from the fitful night of sleep she had. Sitting up slowly, she saw the early morning sun rise just above the trees through the large window facing the foot of her bed. Her head was spinning as she hopped out of bed and tip toed towards the door. There was a bathroom up here somewhere, she just had to find the right door without walking in on someone. She walked up and down the halls for what seemed like hours, never successfully finding the bathroom upstairs, she went downstairs to where she knew one was.

Trying to get as cleaned up as she could from the night before, she was in the bathroom for about 10 minutes before stepping out and turning off the light. There wasn't a whole lot of activity in the morning, thanks to the party no doubt. The brunette felt strange about being in someone else's home without those said people being awake, but there was nothing she could do about it, as she had to wait for Savvy to get up. Her bare feet stepped onto the cool tile as she made her way towards the kitchen.

Finding her way, the woman then set out to make some coffee, hoping the smell would draw some people from there sleep soon. Once she had a cup in her hands, the woman wandered out and around the house curiously, her eyes wandering over the man pictures the Porter family had in their home. On one picture in particular, Roxie took a few extra steps closer...Syd. The man looked quite different compared to his young self, but she could still tell it was him, especially in the eyes. Her thoughts went to the last interaction they had the night before, her hand aching slightly from having smacked him so hard. Roxie would be lying if she said she didn't feel bad. In fact the guilt was kind of starting to eat away at her, the man's familiar eyes stared back at her for a long time, until she had to turn away from the picture.

Small clicking noises could be heard against the tile and Roxie's brows furrowed at what the noise could be. It go closer and closer until a German Shepherd revealed herself, tail wagging slowly as she approached the woman with caution. "Well hello, beauty." She murmured to the pup sweetly, which the dog happily responded to, wagging her tail even more as she finally stood in front of Roxie. The woman knelt down and gently reached to look at the dog's name tag, "Arrow? Such a pretty name for a pretty pup, aren't you?" Reaching out, she scratched behind the dogs ear until she sat happily in front of her. Roxie laughed happily and decided to sit right on the floor with the dog.

The time seemed to move by a bit slower, but Roxie didn't mind the alone time with the dog. She didn't have any pets of her own, and her parents never allowed her to have pets when she was under their care, so this was nice for her. The morning went by and some people woke, but very few. it wasn't till the early afternoon that Roxie decided that it was time to stop petting the dog and time to get home.

Standing up with her empty cup of coffee, she stretched out her hands before she felt Arrow rubbing her snout agains her leg, causing the woman to laugh. "Someone loves the attention! Don't you get enough here?" She teased, bending over once again to pet the dogs face and ears.

Her thoughts went to Mitch, and she wondered if the man was still around, or if he'd left last night after the party was over? She hoped the first as she walked with the dog over back towards the kitchen. She thought about his offer, knowing he was asking if they could get a drink outside of the party. Roxie knew she would have said yes given the opportunity last night, but she would make sure she would say it today.
with: Open for Interaction
mentions: Syd Pyroclast ; Mitch RayPurchase

Peter Callahan
​

Peter laid sprawled out underneath the cool spray of the shower he'd been in. The vibrant color of red staining the walls and floor around him, some spiraling in a hypnotic way down the drain. He was alone, and the voices taunted him. Peter didn't dare look up for fear of being beat again. The only way to survive was to keep his head down...

but even then, he saw a boot swinging back towards his face, "NO!" The man cried out before jolting awake. He sat up in bed quickly and looked around the room he was in. It was Sinead and his room...familiar...safe. The man released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and his breathing only accelerated from there. The light shone through the windows, causing Peter to squint with pain as he laid back down in bed with a light thud. He couldn't remember much of what happened the night before, which he could only assume that meant he had a good time. His head was pounding and his stomach growled with hunger. As much as he didn't want to get out of bed, the man knew that it was probably around the afternoon time. He never slept in that late.

Grunting lightly, the man turned over onto his side before kicking his feet out from underneath the covers. Moving out of bed slowly, he stretched out his arms widely, listening and feeling as his back popped in several places. Wondering what the rest of his family was up to, Peter moved towards his closet to grab some clothes before deciding on a quick shower.

Last night had been the most sleep he had gotten in ages, unfortunately, he still felt like shit. The shower helped somewhat and dressing in something other than a suit did something for him but he was still feeling a bit heavy as he trudged down the stairs towards the kitchen."Hello?" Peter called out lightly, his eyes looking around the corners of the halls and entryways as he finally made it into the kitchen.

Seeing that there was already some coffee made and heated in the pot made Peter smile, Sinead was always on top of it with that kind of stuff. He made a beeline for it, reaching into the cupboard next to it, he grabbed a mug and poured himself a cup before leaning against the counter. His mind was starting to become clearer, the more he stayed up now. Peter could recall the conversation Sinead and him had from the night before, about him getting help.

For some reason, he wasn't so sure he could get the help he needed. It was hard to take that initiative, especially when he didn't know who to turn to. As he sat there silently with his mug in his hand, Peter tried to think of who in the family was getting help now. He would have to ask his nephew about the person he sees, maybe something could be done there...

Shaking his messy blond hair lightly, Peter decided it was best to leave the thought alone. For now, he needed to find Braden. The two of them needed to get some training done, it had been a while, as Peter had shut his family out again, but he was ready to return to business. Once he was halfway through his coffee, Peter moved towards the stairs to see if Braden was in his room, but hearing Sinead's voice from upstairs caused him to raise his eyebrows. Where had she been? He looked around him for a moment, wondering how the hell she could have passed by him without noticing. But without much thought, he jogged up the stairs. "Right here, beautiful." He said, leaning against the doorway as she peered over what ironically looked like a bunch of pillows in the shape of his sleeping form. "That sounds perfect, already got some of the coffee you made. Thank you. And I probably won't need you, but I definitely want you." He murmured lightly as he looked her appearance up and down. "Have a good day love, I'll miss you every second you're gone." When she left, Peter stood in the doorway for a few moments longer before turning towards Braden's room.
with: Open for Interaction
mentions: Braden Trappy

 

[Misty Gray]

Dr Parker's Office
~ Midtown Medical Center, Manhattan ~
​

Maddox Parker

Maddox Parker's office was decorated and furnished will pale shades of blues and greens, along with the odd touch of yellows for the minimal ornaments that accompanied the books on their shelves. The central focus of the room was filled with two armchairs and a coffee table where the majority of his sessions took place, along with the optional couch which some clients often preferred to lay across during deeper sessions. The patio doors allowed a great amount of light into the room, but on the flip side there was the option of drawing the blinds to allow for a dimmer atmosphere. Having treated all kinds of clients and patients, Maddox had adapted his room to cater for everyone's individual needs. One of his many traits was the ability to see beyond a person's exterior and to tailor his work to their own needs. By creating a calming and positive environment to conduct his sessions within, he hoped it would go along way in building trust and encouraging openness.

In the opposite side of the room, by the door which led to the corridor of the clinic, Maddox's oak desk and leather chair resided. He made a point of never using the desk when in the presence of a client, deeming it as too formal and contradictory to the kind of work he was trying to achieve. Desks created not only physical barrier, but also emotional ones between himself and the very people he wished to build an effective therapeutic relationships with. As he had some time to himself before Syd Porter's appointment, Maddox was seated at his desk with a file opened out in front of him and the telephone receiver held to his ear by his left hand. As he listened to the Prison Governor's voice, Maddox slowly shook his head and kept his eyes focused on Conor Sullivan's completed report that his secretary had finished typing up.

"Adrian, I will delivery the report to you myself on Monday morning. I am so confident in my assessment of Mr. Sullivan's progress that I will gladly stand in front of you and the parole board to defend my recommendation. By all means... arrange a meeting and I will make sure I'm able to attend."

Once the call was over, Maddox closed Conor's file and locked it safely in his filing cabinet. He then retrieved a piece of paper from his desk and headed out to the reception desk. "Laura, I won't sign this," he informed the secretary. "Mrs. Aintree was very demanding when she ordered Dr. Kendrick to increase her daughter's dosage and for some inexplicable reason, he agreed. Now her daughter isn't giving her any trouble and she doesn't want to pay for the medication, she wants it stopped completely?!" he asked, shaking his head. "My recommendation is a small, gradual reduction in Charlotte's dosage and more sessions with me. If she is stripped of intervention so quickly, she'll become a ticking time-bomb; likely to end up sectioned or - even worse - taking her own life." He handed the form to Laura. "Tell Dr. Kendrick to come speak to me if any of that isn't clear."

Maddox returned into his office and made himself a drink as he took a little time to relax in one of the armchairs. He'd had an exhausting week and Sundays were typically the only day he was guaranteed to be free of work commitments. As it happened, tomorrow was the 4th of July, so he expected even that would be a busy Sunday, especially if the party he was attending ran on as late as it had done the previous year.

Mentioned: Pyroclast (Syd)

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

With it being a Saturday, there was no way Syd could have taken a day off work from managing the club. The previous night had ended much earlier for him than it had for most of the other guests, so he had managed to get a solid night's sleep before he awoke. Still, 9 o' clock in the morning was very late by his standards, and despite his raging hangover, he knew he couldn't lounge around in bed for too long. Especially considering he had woken up still wearing his suit. Not sober enough to drive nor feeling well enough to be driven, Syd had called off the idea of going into work altogether and, after changing into something more comfortable, had instead traipsed off into one of the mansion's less-used offices, where he would spend the next several hours making arrangements on the telephone to make up for his absence. It wasn't something he often did, especially on one of the busiest days of the week, but this time he had to make an exception. Besides, he had a counselling appointment that afternoon that he would have needed to leave work for anyway.

It wasn't just for the work that he had to attend to, nor the hangover, that he had spent the morning shut away in the office. Syd was more than aware of the fool he had made of himself the night before. It was the second thing to come to his mind after he woke up, the first being the throbbing pain in his head. Having enough work to keep him occupied, he thought it wise to give the guests a chance to leave before he would eventually have to come down and face whoever was left. While it was true that his condition made him more sensitive to alcohol than the majority of the party's attendees, he acknowledged that it was still his fault that he had let himself get into such a state in the first place. Even to those who knew about his medication, he knew he wouldn't be able to play that card. By the time the morning had rolled into the afternoon, Syd felt assured that he had done all of the nightclub's preliminary management for the weekend, and so he finally decided to make an appearance.

From what he could hear, there weren't all that many people still around. The sound of his footsteps coming down the stairs must have caught the dogs' attention at least, because Tanner and Jet came rushing down the corridor to greet him at the bottom. Their enthusiasm elicited a broad smile from Syd and he bent down to give them kisses. "You're gonna pretend you haven't been fed this morning, aren't you?" He let them lick his face for a few seconds, pretending to be disgusted just to tease them, and then stood up, ushering them into the kitchen. "Well, you won't fool me. I know what time it is!" As he made his way over to the coffee press, a woman's voice came into earshot; his own voice fell away and though Tanner and Jet went ahead, Syd's pace slowed almost to a halt as he realised who the voice belonged to. For a moment he stood paralysed at the counter, hearing her approaching footsteps. Arrow walked closely at her side, gazing up at the brunette with a look of rapture in her eyes. When the old German Shepherd didn't immediately come to greet him, he called her name, patting his thigh to bring her to him. "You getting senile on me, girl?" he murmured to her as he bent down to give her some attention. Perfect, he thought. Even my dogs like her.

Knowing he couldn't put off acknowledging Roxie's presence forever, Syd finally stood and looked her in the eye, albeit somewhat bashfully. "She gets plenty of attention, actually." The second the words left him, Syd regretted saying them; a whole night had passed, and now was finally his chance to try to repair the damage he had done. Naturally, however, it seemed he still carried some residual hostility towards her that he couldn't fully suppress. He wasn't even sure where it came from, he just knew that she intimidated him and felt he had to account for it by trying to intimidate her back. She had been so sweet to him, at first...Why couldn't he just be nice to her?

Because then, he might have to acknowledge the chemistry between them.

Taking a few steps forward, Syd extended a hand to take her empty coffee mug from her so that he could wash it up. Realising he was now holding his own freshly brewed cup of coffee, he gave a small sigh. "Don't worry, I'm not going to spill it on you." Once he had set the mug down, Syd ran a hand over his hair self-consciously, hoping he didn't look as rough as he felt. Then, folding his arms and looking to the floor, he cleared his throat. "Listen, Roxie...I was hoping we could put last night behind us. I'm sorry for ruining your dress. I hope I didn't ruin your night, too." Wearing such an abashed look on his face, his words came out sounding somewhat forced. But he wasn't a child anymore and knew when an apology was due. As much as he didn't want to talk about the way he had acted, being alone with Roxie now seemed like the only decent opportunity to bring it up. Chewing on his lip, he looked up to meet her eye. His expression was far from friendly, but he hoped his words might count for something. Having received such a harsh slap from her the previous night, Syd wasn't confident that she wouldn't do the same again if he didn't say the right thing now. Besides, after this apology was out of the way, he reckoned he could get away with never speaking to her again.

Interactions
Bellz Roxie
RayPurchase Mitch ?

 

[Fletchawk]

Bridges. Owen knew that there were dozens of them in the city, hundreds if you count the smaller ones. To most, they were simply ways to travel between the boroughs, but to Owen they meant he was getting paid extra for the delivery. The two men that started to follow him once he started crossing the Willis Ave Bridge was why he charged extra. Although they were maintaining a decent distance, they made no attempt at illusion. Owen hoped that they were just trying to tail him and were just woefully bad at it, but as they continued across the bridge, he was greeted by the sight of another pair of men posted towards the other end.

While it certainly wasn't the first time that Owen had run into such predicaments, he usually had a lot more room to do what he did best. The metal fencing that ran alongside the bridge on his left wasn't much of an obstacle to him, but dropping dozens of feet into the Harlem River was about appealing as running into the traffic on his right. Of course, it didn't help that his heart's tempo seemed to be increasing with every passing car. Once Owen got close enough, the two in front of him broke form and started walking lazily towards him. As if taking the cue, Owen and the pair behind him stopped. Like a rabbit in headlights, he stood there, heart racing now as one of the men pulled ahead of of the other. His style was similar to the others, although the way he carried himself made his position amongst them apparent.

Stopping several steps away from Owen, the man addressed him coolly, "Alright, hand it over, China."

At the mention of his work alias, Owen knew the man was talking about the satchel that hung across his chest. As he continued to look for a clean out, Owen tried to buy some time, "Come on, I don't want any problems, and I don't have any money. So how about letting me walk? "

The man's eyes narrowed briefly before calling the bluff, "Don't play dumb, kid. The package, hand it over and you don't have to play in the street."

The threat sounded far from hollow even though the man's tone didn't change. Picturing himself being thrown under a car by the four men wasn't difficult, and Owen briefly wondered if it man would stay true to his word, but doubt quickly settled in. He knew from experience that the street was brutal, those that worked it were more so. Owen reflexively took a step back before reminding himself he was trapped.

"Four guys? For me? Being bit of a drag, Jack," Owen said as started to edge towards the side of the bridge, as taking swim was starting to become more appealing. He could only hope that it wouldn't damage the package.

As if reading his intentions, the man started to quickly close the gap between himself and Owen. Since it already on his mind, Owen tried making a break for the side of the bridge. With a single hop, Owen's hands were able to grab the top of the fencing. However, what would've been smooth transition came to a screeching halt by the fact that he was a bit further along the bridge than he realized. Without a massive adjustment, Owen realized that he'd be landing on the river's bank rather than the water. That pause was all it took for the man to catch up. Pain rippled from his thigh as Owen's footing was swept from underneath him as the man tackled him, and it was all Owen could do to hang on. Owen's panic now in full swing, he struggled make a final attempt at pulling himself over the fence, but to no avail as the man that was now wrapped around his legs was considerably bulkier than him. it didn't take long for the other three men to catch up, and Owen soon had to hold on for dear life as they tried to rip him away from the fence. While Owen was physically able to make it difficult, he was only prolonging the inevitable.

The beating was short-lived, but intense. As Owen was more into watching a fight than participating, he quickly gave in and let his satchel get stripped from him. Once they had what they came for, the men quickly lost interest in Owen, and briskly went about their business. Owen laid still on the concrete for a few minutes to let the worst of the pain subside. It wasn't his first time, so after taking stock, Owen gingerly pushed himself off the ground and shifted into a sitting position against the fencing that he'd failed to scale. Almost everything hurt in one way or another, but he briefly made sure his hands didn't have any lasting injuries before wiping his face with the inside of his shirt. It stung and he wasn't surprised to see some blood on his shirt afterwards. It wasn't enough to raise much concern from Owen, but he still gently touched the split lip regardless. He was pretty sure that he had a cracked rib or two as well, but there wasn't much he could do about that. Everything else would likely result in some nasty bruises, but he was already starting to worry about the consequences of failing to safeguard the package. The client wasn't exactly known for their empathetic nature, and he obviously wasn't in the best shape to figure out how to break the news.

"What a great fucking start for the day..."

* * *
​

Danny, his drug slinging roommate, was the only person that Owen knew who used to work for his client. Even though their place was in Clinton, better known as Hell's Kitchen, there was no guarantee he'd be there. This was because Danny would often sample his own stock, thus causing him to disappear for days at a time. The mostly place to catch Danny was his usual haunt in Midtown, the Lomax. This was where Danny did a good portion of his business, so it was the most reliable place to catch him. Of course, given his condition, it took much longer than usual to get there, and it was early afternoon by the time he arrived. There were a few problems however.

Owen wasn't even within a hundred feet of the entrance when the bouncers started eyeing him. Not that he blamed them. Owen certainly didn't fit the profile a club goer. While Owen had done his best to straighten up his attire to avoid attracting the gaze of the normally obvious New Yorker denizen, the large framed men by the double doors was being paid to be especially perceptive. One of the men stepped forward to position himself between Owen and the entrance, and the other watched with mild interest as it seemed to be a slow part of the day for them.

"Hold up. You can't come in looking like that. We gotta dress code," the man said politely as he motioned for Owen to stop.

Owen knew there wasn't really a dress code, but it sounded like a good enough reason that most probably wouldn't argue with it. "Tell Danny," Owen interrupted himself to take a short breath, as he didn't want aggravate his ribs, since it would've likely shown on his face, "That his delivery from China is here."

The man mused over what Owen said for a few seconds before looking back at his coworker, the empty line, and then back at Owen. "You better not be wasting my time," he growled before heading towards the double doors, "I'll be right back," he told his coworker before disappearing behind the doors.

Pyroclast [Danny]