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

[Inb4Cloaker]

Farrid Al-Assad​

Crimson streaks of blood covered the shirt of the once somewhat dapper outfit, and for Assad, it seemed as though his attire always ended up reflecting what he was currently doing. He dressed up for a nice occasion, but got stuck with his current predicament, despite his best intentions. Still, it was better than the potential alternative; someone may have died had Bailey chose a different place to take lunch. In some ways, he acknowledged that she was both unusually lucky and unlucky at the same time. Jerking the zipper to his bag closed and fastening the clips, Farrid diverted his attention towards the woman who brought him to where he currently knelt. He knew that others would’ve turned up their nose at the more gruesome activities he partook in, much less help him if he requested assistance. His appreciation for her helpfulness and company was immense, but the sight of her applying pressure on Scotts shoulder also sent chills down his spine. What if the roles were reversed? The reality of the drive-by cut deep into the mind of the medic, and the possibility of such a fate befalling either himself or the woman was brought to the forefront of his worries. As much as the thrill of their relationship and the course of staring danger down enticed him, in the long run, he needed to strive for a more peaceful life for the gunrunner and himself. If he miraculously survived this business, he wanted to find a place far away from the bloodshed and underhanded deals he witnessed in his line of work, and he wanted Bailey to be alongside him.

Nudging away his wishful thoughts, Farrid reminded himself of where he was. With bloodied hands reaching for his sunglasses, the medic obscured his wandering eyes with the darkened lenses before standing. With the help of Trevor and Bailey, Scott found himself moved through the restaurant and back out to the truck Bailey and Farrid arrived in minutes ago. He had been assessing the condition of the injured man as time went on, and realized that withholding morphine was a good decision, as he appeared to be getting more sluggish. Running potential treatment methods through his head, Farrid did the motions of entering and starting the engine to his now makeshift ambulance while Bailey conversed with the guard. After Scott was secured and all doors were closed, the medic nodded his thanks towards Trevor and smiled weakly before driving off.

“It could be worse. You could’ve taken one in the back of your head. Or better yet, they could’ve hit... Well, let me just say I know some people out east that won’t be having kids. I’d say you’ll be alright, Scott.” Farrid noted, somewhat grimly, that the man was fortunate enough to have a low priority injury. With the prior insurgent driving a bit faster than normal, he figured that the only thing that may hinder the chances of the injured man survivability would be the truck crashing.

Hands locked on the steering wheel, Assad accepted the cigarette with his mouth and politely waited until Bailey was able to light it. Unwilling to remove his eyes from the road as he sought alternatives to reach the clinic with more time to spare, he balanced the cigarette between his lips and replied to the gunrunner without looking over.

“Ah yes. This is a great first date.” He muttered with clear sarcasm, annoyed that there attempts at a simple lunch were foiled by chaos. “After this is done, I’m gonna take a hot shower, then consider our options for dinner. Or would it be lunch?” He asked aloud, seeing as how they haven’t eaten yet. He didn’t know if cooking so soon would be considered the lunch they missed, or dinner.

With his hands sticking to the steering wheel slightly, Farrid was aware that his truck would need just as much attention as his skin after the ordeal had ended. Blood was not something he wanted to linger in his vehicle for longer than it absolutely has to. Between the spot where Scott was sitting and the places that Farrid’s hands came in contact with, he was in for an excessive amount of cleaning soon. On the bright side, cleaning his interior would be a small price to pay if it meant that the cost would a life saved. Taking in long, deep breaths, he steadied himself as the clinic came into view. With the mansion owned by Syd only a short distance away, the truck containing the injured person and the two operators came rolling up with a sense of urgency. With the thought of the nightclub owner crossing his mind, Farrid made it an objective to thank him for the advice he provided regarding Bailey. Of course, he would leave out the part about the gun being drawn on him, but the outcome was positive overall. He also wondered how he was doing with the woman that slapped him during the party. Seeing as he was the one who provided successful guidance to Assad, surely the brawler already had everything ironed out and under control regarding the previous night.

Checking in with the guard and explaining his plight in a relatively calm manner, Farrid and his allies were granted entry to the mansion grounds. Seconds after parking his truck as close to the entrance as he could manage, he hopped out and prompted Bailey to assist him with taking Scott into the building. With confidence instilled in the guards, he trusted that he would be uninterrupted by any potential threats while he saw to the recovery of the injured man. Guiding him through the corridors of the building while under the watchful eyes of guards, he debated the whereabouts of the residence owner. He would’ve stopped to ask, but assumed that it was not too important in the current situation. Feeling the fit of sneezing that would soon occur due to the presence of dogs build up, he quickly informed Scott of what was about to take place.

“Ok, we are going to make sure your bleeding is controlled again, wash the wound, see about removing the bullet, relocate any fragmented bone if you have any, and apply more permanent interventions. Hopefully in that order. If you can stay awake, and the pain is too much, we’ll slip in something to suppress pain. If you can’t stay awake, you’ll have to find solace in god, because I will do everything it takes to make sure you live, and it will probably hurt. A lot.” Farrid finished his little speech with a quiet sneeze and emphasized the last phrase of his sentence, trying to persuade the man to find the mental fortitude it would take to endure the process of what was to come. So long as everything went smoothly, he could take things at a steady pace and keep the man comfortable. Farrid was trained as an emergency responder when compared to those with more schooling, but his type of medicine would have to suffice this time yet again, just as it has sufficed many times before.

إبق مستيقظا

Mentions: Syd Pyroclast
Interactions: Bailey Pilgrim59 Scott Misty Gray​

 

[Misty Gray]

Savannah Callahan​

Savannah had to focus in order to hide her amusement upon hearing Syd had called in sick. It wasn't that she was amused by the thought of her cousin being ill, it was more that she'd seen how drunk he was at her uncle's party and didn't doubt any sickness was due to a hangover. Danny's comment about it being "Saturday morning's curse" made it clear he too knew what was really wrong with his employer. "When will you boys learn, huh?" she quietly spoke up. She then flashed a bright smile. She was more than familiar with the effects of too much alcohol and the hangovers that followed. However, with rehearsals presently taking over her weekends and the need to look fresh for her photo shoots, she wasn't allowed to overdo it with the drink these days. Instead, she'd had to be very strict with herself and show restraint on her nights out.

Savannah briefly observed Danny's hands as he started to make her cocktail but she soon looked back to his face when he answered her question about serving food. She shrugged her shoulders and let out a short laugh when he questioned her having not eaten at Syd's club before. "Well, I can assure you it's not 6 yet, even if today has been a loooooong day," she informed him. "And I only ever came here at night before, for the drinks and the music. After 6..." Many of the businesses in the city were in some way owned by members of her family or close friends. In honesty, her favourite place to eat that was family owned was her Aunt Aliana's restaurant. Even as a child back in Dublin, she had favoured the restaurant Aliana had back there. It just reminded her of family, especially how Peter and Sinead would take her out for dinner without her siblings present. She'd been a reserved child and Emery's boisterous nature back then had meant Savannah struggled to get a word in edge-ways with her parents. The blonde girl also loved seeing Aliana when they were there. Even before Aliana was in a relationship with Conor, she was practically family due to her close friendship with Sinead.

Savannah took the menu from Danny and began scanning over the food options. Her eyes seemed to automatically skim past anything that stood out as being spicy. Though she had never met her biological father and wouldn't know it, there were a number of likes and dislikes she had inherited from the man. One such trait was an aversion to spicy food, as had been the case for Angel. She briefly looked away from the menu to eye Danny as he asked if she had a message for Syd. Not wanting to give away too much to her cousin's employee, she decided against making any comments about a lady being involved. "Tell him to get in touch with me. I need to talk to him," she softly replied whilst accepting the drink. "Thank you!" She suspected she'd be seeing Roxie first, but she wanted to hear both sides of what had happened at the party.

The blonde's eyes were cast back down to the menu and for some reason, Andre's earlier words about her not needing to eat or ruin her figure came to the forefront of her mind. She sent Danny another glance before turning to see Owen as he returned to the bar. She wasn't sure why she suddenly cared about what her ignorant boss had said, but she couldn't shake the impact of his words in that moment. "Please could I have..." she began, mulling over the choices. She then closed the menu and handed it back to Danny. "I'll get the mango salad, please," she decisively told him. She then turned slightly and pointed to one of the nearby tables. "I'll eat over there," she told him. It seemed like the two young men had things to talk about, so she wasn't going to intrude upon that. "Nice talking to you, Danny," she sweetly told him. She sent both Danny and Owen a smile before picking up her drink and carrying it with her to the nearby table she'd set her eyes on.

Pyroclast (Syd) Fletchawk (Owen)
Mention: Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Aliana Cartwright

Ali was happy that Conor was getting the help he needed, even surprised that he had let someone in to hear all of his problems. To be honest, it made her feel some type of way considering she asked him to talk to her a while back. Before their separation, she wanted to be there for him in any way he could; even begged him to talk to her. She knew she shouldn't feel this way and that it was selfish. He was getting the help he needed so what did it matter that it wasn't from her? She shifted in her seat when they made eye contact again, his words about trying his best for everyone tugging at her heart. It would have been quite the lovely moment had they not been separated. But alas, they were and this was more of a tough moment than anything else.

It wasn't until he made his comment of the two still being married that she realized she messed up. Not about rejecting the guy because she was still married, but because she had said anything about it all. Again, she didn't come here to start up drama or to make him feel worse about the situation. She actually meant for it to be a joke, however, it was the worst one she could have ever told. His reaction was completely in the right and the sane part of her understood that much. Except, the sane part of her seemed to be absent in this scenario. She sat up in her seat, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "No, I didn't. It wasn't the topic of the conversation." Ali hadn't exactly been wearing her wedding ring on her finger anymore, so it wasn't a surprise that it was never brought up. Instead, the rings were around her neck. While she didn't feel compelled to wear it on her finger, as the meaning had long since depleted from her reason behind wearing it, she did feel compelled to keep it on. It didn't feel right not to wear her wedding ring but to be wearing a dead man's bracelet. It wasn't the only reason she wore it around her neck, though. There would always be love for Conor in her heart but as always when it came to her emotions about relationships and men she was confused on what to feel and on what to do. She did know that his comment was making her sad-mad.

Through her frustrations, she looked away from him as he started talking about Allen again. At the moment she didn't want to hear any kind of advice he was giving, seeing as he was also behind bars. They were just alike, Allen and Conor, as far as keeping promises and giving her false hope. "Please don't go giving me any advice on my father or my relationship with him. If he wanted things better," she said before looking at him, her next words directing at him as well, "then he should've thought about what would be at stake before becoming reckless."
​

Conor ( Misty Gray )

 

[Misty Gray]

~ Scott Masters ~

As he was helped outside by the others, Scott passed Sinead and sent her a small smile which he hoped would reassure her that he would be okay. Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything about the colour that had been drained from his face and the clear exhaustion brought on by the blood loss.

Once at the truck, he was helped into the back and Bailey took a moment to check over the dressing on his wound again. "Thanks..." he gratefully told her as she put her coat over him to help keep his temperature up. Soon enough, Scott, Bailey and Farrid were all in the truck on their way to the clinic at Syd Porter's place. Bailey spoke up to tell him Farrid would fix him up. She also mentioned how "the boss" wasn't going to be happy with what had happened. Technically, James Porter might run half of the city and such power might even extend to the man's own sister-in-law's business, but Scott didn't look upon the gangster as his boss. He was employed by Sinead as the club's Bar Manager and nothing more. He'd never had any interest in the mob's business and if he was inclined to feel bitter about his current predicament, he'd be pissed off about being caught up in Porter's affairs. Yet, the more he mulled over it, the more he wanted to know "the boss" was going to deal with those responsible.

"Oh yeah..." Scott tiredly replied as Farrid reminded him of how much worse his injury could have been. "Glad you think I'll be living long enough..." he began, pausing to block out a twinge of pain and catch his breath. "...to have kids."

To Scott, the drive felt longer than it probably was, but they eventually arrived at the intended location at Syd's house. Farrid then explained how things were going to go down. The medic didn't sugarcoat the situation and how painful the procedure was going to be. Scott gritted his teeth as he already imagined the discomfort he was being warned about. "I must've been a real bastard in another life to deserve this one... Unless I pissed off some guy without realising..." he remarked. Scott was used to pushing himself beyond his limits where physical exercise was concerned and he believed himself to have high endurance levels, but something told him this was going to be a different matter altogether.


Inb4Cloaker (Farrid) Pilgrim59 (Bailey)​

 

[Misty Gray]

Conor Sullivan​

Conor could see his mentioning of Allen had irritated Aliana. As she turned away, he briefly shook his head and tightly clenched his fist to try inhibit his own frustration at the situation. He let out a deep sigh as he waited for her to look back at him. Soon enough Aliana focused back on him and started telling him not to give her advice regarding her father. "Look, I just wanted to--" he began, but his wife continued speaking. Not only were her words directed at Allen but they were clearly aimed at Conor himself. He displayed an ironic smile as he quickly shook his head at her words. Just as quickly, his face dropped back to a serious state. "Jesus... Nobody's perfect. I slipped up and made one fucking mistake--" Conor fell silent as his profanity didn't escape the nearby guard's attention.

Deciding he didn't want to risk having his visit cut short, he reined himself back in. He didn't want to be irritated with the woman he loved but it was suffocating being trapped in the visiting room without the freedom to prove himself to her. "When I saw you enter this room today, I couldn't believe my eyes and there was this brief moment that I thought you still cared. But, it must have really pained you to come here and see me today. I have no doubt Sinny appreciates your concern and I'm grateful you're there for my little sis too."

Conor sat back in his seat and gazed to the clock on the wall. He was aware there wasn't much time left before the visit would have to come to an end. Knowing he couldn't get up or shout across the room without stirring up the guards, he looked Aliana in the eyes. "Can you get Leo to come join us again? At least I know he actually wants to see me," he couldn't help but remark. For a long time. he'd been picturing his release from prison and making it up to Aliana, but he was starting to fear she had no intention of letting him back into her life.

Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)

 

[Pyroclast]

Danny Vaughan

"Ah, I knew it," he winked, when she admitted to only coming to the club in its later hours. "I can always tell a party animal when I see one!" Though Savannah appeared to be a class or two above him with her elegant mode of dress and polite diction, her bright smile and cheeky sense of humour gave him the impression that she would be great fun to party with. Danny would have loved to see her letting go on that dance floor, even more so to be the one dancing with her. Still, it wasn't 6 o' clock yet, so he knew he would be stuck at work for at least a little while longer.

Once he had handed the drink to her, Danny began searching for a pen so that he could take a message on her behalf. "You got it, girl." There was a joint in his pocket that had been waiting all day to be smoked, and he knew that that's where his mind would go as soon as he got off his shift. Not trusting himself to remember to call his boss, he began to write in bold letters on his forearm, CALL SY- but before he could finish, Tanya snatched the pen from him and playfully hit him on the head with it. "Stop trying to get girls' numbers, you've got a job to do!" she teased him, causing Danny to blush slightly. "Damn it, Tan, I wasn't -" he protested, but when she wandered off to serve another customer, Danny turned back to Savannah with a look of defeat on his face. "Right. I'll be calling Sy' for you later, then."

Owen soon arrived to take a seat beside the young woman and Danny flashed him a smile, pleased that he had managed to sneak his way in without getting kicked out for being underage. The club was supposed to be high security, yet even Danny could work out the loopholes. Giving his roommate a quick once-over, he noticed he had managed to clean himself up somewhat. Danny jotted down Savannah's order with a note of her table number and smiled at her. "You, too, uh..." he began, but she moved away before he could ask her for her name. For a second he stood and simply watched her as she moved to her table, before stepping into the kitchen to hang up her food order. He had written, BOSS'S COUSIN - MAKE XTRA GOOD at the bottom of the note. The chef rarely got complaints, but even so, Danny wanted to ensure the food exceeded its usual standard so that she might come back in future.

When he returned to his position at the bar he set his attention on Owen. "Oh, sure thing," he nodded, remembering his offer to make him a drink. He leaned back to grab a few bottles and began to measure out the selected bourbon, vermouth and Campari. It was a fun and easy cocktail to make yet for some reason it was off-menu, so he often chose it when given the freedom. "Wait, where are you going?" he asked."You gonna get yourself checked out? Want me to come with?" Once the drink was mixed and poured out, he struck a match and squeezed a strip of orange peel over it, causing a small flame to burst into the air. It made him smile slightly. Once garnished, he passed the drink over and leaned against the bar, biting down on his lip as he awaited his response. The young man had been through a lot, and without much knowledge of how gangs operated, Danny couldn't be certain that Owen wouldn't be attacked again. "Tanya won't like it, but I can call it an emergency. Or I can call you a cab - I gotta use the phone anyway," he offered, gesturing to the ink scrawled onto his arm.

Interactions
Fletchawk Owen
Misty Gray Savannah

 

[Bellz]

Lucy Porter
​

Lucy knew that it was serious but when James confirmed it, her heart felt like it was breaking. Arlene had known the risks she was taking working for her father and Liam but it still hurt to know that those risk caught up with her. No one was safe. Even if they tried to retire and live a normal, minding their own business, someone was always there to ruin lives in a second. The blonde's anxieties about her husband never returning home to her was still always in the back of her mind, the woman tried to make sure that it never got to her...she couldn't afford to fall apart over what ifs anymore. As active as he was in the business, Lucy knew that his reign wouldn't last forever and soon it would be time for someone else to take over. Lucy wasn't sure how she felt about that day now, the one where she thought her husband would truly be out of the clear.

The blonde wasn't naive, but wishful thinking couldn't simply be stopped. James has made far more enemies she was sure...how many of them would take advantage of him in his retirement? Her thoughts were luckily distracted by James' movement and she made eye contact with him as he asked how little Olivia was. Lucy bit her lip lightly, once again, she felt an ache in her chest for the child.

"She's a very observant girl for her age, I'm sure her mother couldn't simply hide everything from her. I think she understands that her mother is in danger, just like we all do." Lucy couldn't even imagine if Thomas was left without James and herself, especially at such a young age. It had done damage to Syd and Lucy was so grateful that the boy had caught her eye...oh how she missed when he was a boy.

"For now, I think until we truly understand what's going on, we should just let her try to adjust. I don't want to overwhelm her...but I know she's just like her mother so...she'll be asking questions soon enough." Lucy shook her head softly.

"This is what I'm so afraid of, especially with you. There is no retirement from this business, truly." She whispered honestly.
with: James Misty Gray

 

[Pilgrim59]

Bailey Baker
The Clinic, Queens, New York
July 3rd, 1971 (Midday)

Interacted: Farrid ( Inb4Cloaker ), Scott ( Misty Gray )
Mentioned: Owen ( Fletchawk )

​

High Speed Low Drag III​

Farrid's way of coping with the situation with his nonchalant composure had instilled a certain sense of comfort for the woman. Perhaps it was best that they were on their way about with something to keep them sane. The ideals of death was easily settled by most. But the process of getting there was far from pretty and colors. Bailey's initial uneasiness were soon dispelled, as did her thrilled sentiments. The controversial thoughts plagued her, after all these years. Despite the bloodshed and obscene violence, she had found some pleasure of being put on edge. While disgusted at times by these narratives of these accounts, the Bailey remained true to her nature as an arms dealer - finding satisfaction of guns blazing and the chaos that ensues. Yet, even when the wicked gunrunner found it amusing and thrilling to be in it all, the casualties of these predicaments were all but assuring. Perhaps it was her own coping mechanism as well. Where Farrid would drown the gray of things, amidst the firestorm of bullets, Bailey had achieved her gratification via challenges, as she pushed her mind to the limit. The euphoria of tackling on these situation would propel her forth, much to her dismays. By now, she was sure that Farrid would have picked up on her twisted senses.

"It could have gone differently, but hey, at least we still have dinner to consider..." Bailey remarked, taking a long drag then a fumed exhale.

The nicotine quickly settled, taking the gunrunner back, as her head soared above the clouds. It was almost as if she had not taken one for years. Bailey had wanted to quit altogether, but in these times, it was a fool's errand to try and quit. Flicking her cigarette away as the truck zoomed past streets after streets with haste, Bailey regained her focus, as the nicotine rush slowly receded.

Before long, the trio found themselves behind a multitude of security details. A haven for the wicked and home of the syndicate's finest. Shouldering Scott alongside Farrid, they fleeted towards the clinic, where the man could finally get his treatment. Bailey saw the two off, as she awaited outside the operating room. Strapping herself to a bench, the girl took her time to examine the casing. Running by her train of thoughts, the girl quickly got up and rushed over to the nearby rotary ringer. Her delicate hand firmly cycled through the digits, with her eyes fixed on the bullet casing in her other hand. Sandwiching the handset between her ear and her shoulder, the audible ring ran its course, before it was picked up by a distinct click.

"This is Baker. I need you to double check the status of our safe houses in Manhattan and Queens. Also, get in touch with China, I have an urgent detail for him." Bailey said, before hanging up.

Whatever was the case of the drive-by that happened, Bailey was sure that it was probably not the last place their oppositions would hit. She had to make sure everything was in order, lest the ripples of this predicament spiral out of control. It would not take long for James to find out and enable their next move. If anything, the message after the shoot-out was clear as day - it was a challenge to the integrity of the Porter's empire. Follow the bullet, Bailey thought to herself, as she stood by the telephone, all the while hoping that Scott would make it out. An eye for an eye, what is drawn in blood, must be repaid, and with this family, it is always tenfold in interest, the gunrunner contemplated. She clenched her teeth, as her hand curled up to a firm fist. There were a great of things she wanted to get out of Farrid, as soon as he was done. One of them would perhaps be something affectionate, like biting down on the man real hard.

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

There was still plenty of hours left in the day and plenty of duties with which to occupy himself and get his mind off Mitch. Having left the medical centre so promptly, Syd hadn't been able to properly assess the physical effects of his violent outburst. Would he have to admit to James about what he had done? Was his problem with the lawyer serious enough that it would need to be brought to the table? Having never liked to be kept in the dark about family or business matters, Syd tried to keep his family and colleagues informed and up to date without wasting any time. It was usually easy to do when such matters were business-related, but when they were personal, there was always more at stake. Though he couldn't say for sure how James would react to his behaviour, he didn't imagine that the conversation would go too smoothly. Mitch shouldn't be hurt, he thought - at least, he didn't have visible marks on him, no tell-tale signs like a punch to the face would have given. Then again, he hadn't taken a proper look...maybe he would be bruised. How hard had he squeezed? Surely the lawyer wouldn't snitch on him, not after the threat he made. As long as they both kept their mouths shut and nobody saw anything, he would no doubt get away with it. Thinking about Mitch was unsettling, so Syd decided instead to leave it behind and focus on the rest of the day ahead. Now that the morning's hangover had mostly faded, he thought it was worth checking in on his nightclub, and so moved his car over from the medical centre. While it was only a short walk away, he wanted to minimise his chances of bumping into the lawyer again.

Having already spent the morning checking that everything was in order, Syd knew exactly who was working which shifts, the current state of inventory and what time orders would be coming in throughout the week. Still, he liked to make the effort to listen to his employees. Once satisfied that each department of the business was running smoothly, Syd moved to observe the main dining area of the club, pleased to see that it was busy.

"Savannah?" Syd frowned slightly upon noticing his cousin sitting alone at a table. He made his way over to the young woman and tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey, you," he smiled. Glancing to the drink in her hand, Syd shook his head and gave a light chuckle. He couldn't stomach the thought of drinking any more alcohol after the previous night's binge. "Hair of the dog? Make sure you tell them you're my cousin, you'll get special rates." He sent her a friendly wink and then seated himself at her table. "Don't worry, I'm not here to steal anyone's seat. It's just good to see you here. What're you up to today?"

Interactions
Misty Gray Savannah

 

[Misty Gray]

James Porter​

James pushed a loose strand of Lucy's hair behind her ear as she began speaking about Olivia. Hearing the child was observant and difficult to keep secrets from came as no surprise to James. He was more than familiar with the way Arlene rarely missed a trick and knew all too well of her ability to read other people with minimal effort. It only stood to reason the woman's child would pick up the same traits from her headstrong mother. He quickly nodded in agreement when Lucy suggested they left the child room to settle without overwhelming her. "Damn it, I really hope this is just your cousin up to her old tricks," he remarked. Regardless of his comment, he doubted Arlene would abandon her own daughter, even if it was temporary. He was sure Arlene had grown out of intentionally going off the grid quite some years ago. The woman had responsibilities now.

Lucy soon directed the topic even closer to home, pointing out how she was especially fearful for him and the way retirement wasn't an option. James put his arm around Lucy's waist and leaned into her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "Retirement has crossed my mind on occasions, but there's never been an appropriate time. I guess Dublin was where I came closest..." he admitted. After the IWU had been wiped out and the Mayor began cracking down on organised crime, James had considered the possibility of moving on and away from any mob ties. He'd had thoughts of Thomas having a childhood free of the burdens their family had grown familiar with. But then Liam was killed and James once again found himself called upon to step up to keep the Sullivans in power. If he was being honest, the thought of fresh challenges and returning to America brought with it some excitement buried within the overwhelming sense of duty and responsibility that was thrown his way.

"You and I were both born into this life. We've known no different. We haven't known what it's like to live without this business hanging over our heads," he told her. The Sullivans had started making their mark on Chicago and New York before Lucy was born. James' father had been a friend and employee of Emmet Sullivan since before James was born. Though their childhoods had been different, the nature of the Sullivans' business had always had influence on their lives. "I often wonder what would have happened had things played out differently," James began, staring off ahead as he thought back. "Had Vinnie not succeeded in knocking the spirit out of Conor... Had your brother felt able to run the family business, I wouldn't have stepped in, would I?" he asked, sending a weak smile to Lucy. "One of the last things your father did before he died was give us his blessing. Who knows? Maybe I'd have packed this whole thing in, married you, and whisked you off to live somewhere away from all that shite Chicago gave us," he half-joked. In all honesty, James wasn't sure if he would have given up the criminal life he led. He was by now certain it was simply in his blood and he was the life that had always been intended for him. Perhaps he wouldn't have been the head of the family, but no doubt he'd have gone back to his old ways as a hitman, securing the family's safety under Conor's employment. He shook his head and groaned at himself for getting carried away with such thoughts. "The fact is, this is where we are and I wouldn't change any of it. All of the pain and loss we've lived through I'd rather never happened. But at the same time, it brought us to this point. Syd, Thomas, Delilah and Mallory... They are the gifts this path has given us." James softly kissed Lucy's lips before pulling away. "If there's a way I can retire and ensure our family doesn't suffer from it, I will find it. Then you'll be stuck with just Old Man James and a whole lot of dogs!"

Bellz (Lucy)

 

[Misty Gray]

Savannah Callahan​

Savannah waited for her meal to be served, allowing the Vodka Martini to occupy her tastes buds whilst she did. Although she shot a few glances in the direction of Danny and Owen, her attention was mostly focused deep within her own thoughts. Much of the sound around her was blocked out as she quietly recited the Oliver! script in her head. She was sure she'd remembered everything already, but it didn't stop her from going over it. She wanted to be sure it would all flow naturally and any possibility of her messing up on stage was completely removed.

A familiar voice was heard and it took a couple of seconds before the blonde realised it wasn't in her head. She snapped out of her thoughts and looked up to see Syd with a smile on his face. She noticed how her cousin focused on the drink she was holding and she raised a curious eyebrow, wondering if he was passing judgement on account of her drinking alone. "Oh, I made sure I told them we're related. I've got to cash in where I can, right?" she cheekily remarked. She sent him a warm smile as he sat at the table with her. "I wouldn't worry, either. I'm here on my own, so the seat's empty anyway," she told him. She rolled her eyes, wondering if it was weird for her to be out alone rather than with any of her friends.

"I'm not up to much for the rest of today. I might take advantage of that fact and relax on the sofa all evening. I was up early this morning for rehearsals and Andre doesn't believe in breaks, so now I'm done for the day I thought I'd grab a late lunch here," she explained. A smile remained planted on her face as she spoke. Though her explanation had naturally rolled off of her tongue, she was stalling as she considered how she was going to approach what was really on her mind. Would she joke about Roxie or get straight to the point in a tactful manner? "How about you, Syd? What are you up to today? I mean, what have you been up to since last night? You were quite drunk," she said, grinning at him in a playful manner.

Savannah took a sip of her drink before setting it down on the table and taking a deep breath in anticipation. As cousins, she and Syd had a close friendship - something that had been strengthened when they'd supported each other when Skye had passed away. She loved Braden and Emery, but she always felt a strong connection with her cousin and found it more comfortable confiding in him rather than in her siblings. She also found he was easy to go to for advice when the subject was something she felt awkward talking to her parents about. In return, she was concerned about him, especially after what seemed to have been an altercation with Roxie the previous night. The last thing she wanted was for her cousin and her friend to dislike each other. "I saw you and Roxie at the party. I mean, I saw the altercation that followed your drink spillage. What happened?" she softly asked him, her voice reflecting concern.


Pyroclast (Syd)

 

[Fletchawk]

He restrained a uncomfortable chuckle into a smile. Owen knew Danny wasn't trying to patronize him, but going to a doctor wasn't something he could usually afford. Especially when all they were going to do was wrap his ribs, and tell him to be less active. He'd gotten caught, and roughed up. Having some cracked ribs was painful, and it was going to make his life uncomfortable for the next month or two, but he wasn't anywhere close to being on death's door. It was just another thing he had to deal with. Another obstacle to traverse.

"Is all that necessary?" Owen wondered aloud, not being accustomed to the show being put on for a drink, "But nah, it's just a busted rib or two. It'll slow me down, but it won't kill me. Besides, I don't think you want to go back to East Harlem with me," his mouth cracked into a knowing grin, "And I'm also not wearing a pretty red dress, so..." breaking off to taste the drink that had been prepared for him. Nodding his approval of the citrusy flavor, Owen starts to think about what else he should do before returning to report what happened to his clients. As grateful as Owen was that Danny was offering assistance, involving him any further wasn't going to make the situation better.

After trying to not wrinkle his nose at the idea of riding in a cab across Manhattan mid-summer, he gestured towards the payphones, "Hey, let me get a dime off you call to Bailey. Also, your boss is here."

Owen had never met or talked to Syd himself, but the man had been pointed out to Owen enough times that he knew what his role was. So when Syd slid through the door, it didn't quite escape his attention, although it didn't hold for long as he remembered that Bailey had said she was going to a party last night. Given the Tiny Texan's ability to consume alcohol, he worried about what form she'd be in when he called. Even so, if East Harlem decided to unfairly target him for retribution, she was the mostly likely to do something about it.

Pyroclast [Danny]
Mentions: [Syd] Misty Gray [Savannah] Pilgrim59 [Bailey]

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

Syd nodded when Savannah told him she was out on her own, trying to not look at all judgemental. Just because a person is on their own, it doesn't mean they are lonely. Whatever her reasons for being at the club, Syd was pleased that his cousin felt welcome enough to come alone. Day or night, he trusted his bouncers to pick up on any unwanted attention directed her way as much as he trusted Savannah not to go along with it, so he wasn't too concerned on that front. At least, he tried not to be. She was at an age where he imagined she would need to feel some level of independence and as much as Syd cared about her, he wasn't her father. They had a close and trusting relationship and he didn't want to stand in the way of her having fun. Besides, when he was young he had wanted his independence, too.

"Andre sounds like a gas," he smirked. "Hey, you let me know when I can get my advance ticket, yeah? I want front row seats." The family had always known that Savannah was destined to be a performer. With the love for music that she had inherited from her mother motivating her, she began to earn her talent from a very early age and so when she had found her place in the theatre, Syd believed she would only thrive there. He had never been good at sitting still for long; neither films nor plays ever managed to hold his attention and he quite often found his mind wandering for most of it, if he hadn't already wandered out of the theatre altogether. But it was different when it was somebody he knew and loved up there on the stage. It made him want to stay, even if he grew restless. He was proud of how far Savannah had come and he wanted to support her. Moreover, he knew that Skye would be proud of her, too. She had always been a fan of Savannah's musical talents, encouraging her to practise and follow her dreams; now that she was no longer alive, Syd felt driven not only to support his cousin but also to honour his wife.

"Ah, me? I'm just...ticking stuff off, you know." Syd looked down in embarrassment at her mention of how drunk he had been at the party and ran a hand through his hair, chuckling nervously. "Ugh. The hangover won't let me forget it! I've just been going over business stuff, went to my counselling session..." He paused, thinking back to his run-in with Mitch in the stairwell. Savannah was quite probably the only person he could trust not to take action or get him into trouble if he told her what he had done. But the opportunity to bring it up passed in the brief silence that fell between them and she soon moved on to ask him in more depth about what happened between him and Roxie. From the concern in her tone, he could tell that she wasn't just looking for gossip.

Syd rubbed at his head as he tried to piece together the exact events. "Ah, you mean you saw her fly off at me after I spoiled her dress?" His sheepish smile showed that he was willing to be open with her - or, at least, that he wanted to be. Syd closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. It seemed he had relived that moment countless times since it happened. "There's more that you didn't see, Sav. But you gotta promise, promise me you won't tell her any of this. She didn't send you in here with a wire, did she?" Syd narrowed his eyes at her, then laughed. But when his laughter died it was met with a deeper silence this time, one filled with genuine uncertainty as he deliberated on how much to tell her.

"I don't know if you've talked to her already, but she'll probably tell you I was rude to her, that I made her feel unwelcome and stupid for trying to get to know me. And she'd be right. I won't deny it, I wasn't exactly friendly to her. And it was kind of on purpose. I mean, I didn't want to be mean, but I felt like I had to...drive her away." Syd sighed, realising how he must sound. Yet, part of him wondered if Savannah understood what he was getting at. After Skye passed away, the two came to relate to each other on a more profound level. Even though Savannah had been only a young teenager at the time, the act of sharing their grief had lead them to realise the connection they had. Savannah knew that Syd had not made much effort to get back into the dating world since he was widowed, but even if she had some understanding of his issues with women, he still didn't want to say it aloud. He didn't want to verbally admit that he had felt a visceral attraction to her roommate that had caused him to push her away. "It's a stupid defence strategy, that's all. She seemed to like me and I guess that just scared me off a bit, 'cause..." Because I like her, too. "But anyway, turns out I was wrong about that. So it's fine." Syd sent her a smile, though it was perhaps less convincing than he intended it to be. With Roxie now at the front of his mind again, he found himself reflecting on his session with Maddox. His violent outburst afterwards had made him forget what they had discussed, but now that his head was more clear, the counsellor's constructive advice was beginning to return to him. "I was actually going to ask, Sav, if you could...maybe put me in touch with Roxie at some point? I did apologise this morning, but I'd like to give it another go."

Interactions
Misty Gray Savannah

 

[RayPurchase]

Mitchell Van Gerwen​

Mitch’s whole job, and subsequently his life it sometimes felt like, resolved around making estimations. Estimations of how far you can push someone. It could be the detective in the witness stand, working out just how many buttons to push, trip him up, or get him just annoyed enough to say something to potentially perjure himself, lashing out against the defendant, of course you couldn’t go too far, the judge would clamp down, and in the eyes of the jury you’d appear desperate, and desperate meant guilty. Or it could be the defendant himself, making sure every last drop of information was squeezed out of him, nothing left out, but all the while making sure not to push them too hard, make them close down, most of these people were criminals afterall, you push too hard they’ll close you off, got to maintain that professional bond, let them know you’re on their side. All in all Mitch trod the line quite well, reading people and their tells. This time however Mitch had severely underestimated Syd.


Syd’s sudden movement took him by surprise and he had no time to react at all. His grin falling from his face, and his eyes bulging as his toes scrabbles against the floor, his hands grasped against Syd’s own, his face rapidly reddening. Syd’s words drifted over him, but they felt almost far away, his thoughts with his very much restricted airways as he gasped for breath. His thoughts came back to the present as he felt the barrel of the gun placed against his head. Right now all Mitch felt was fear, the care free attitude, the cocksure grins, all gone now. Was this really how it was going to end, a single misspoken line to the wrong person, and it was going to end in this grotty stairwell. He had never felt fear like this.


He didn’t even hear the door swinging open below them. The next thing he knew Syd had released him, and he crumpled to the floor in a heap, wheezing and coughing as he struggled to catch his breath. He sat their motionless as Syd continued to speak, not even reacting to the smoke that clouded around his head, his eyes flicked up as Syd walked away. The man was insane, that much was for sure, dangerously insane. Syd had encountered murderers, rapists and true scum of the earth, but never had he been attacked like this. After sitting motionless for what felt like hours he slowly hauled himself up from the floor, wordlessly gathering the file that had slipped from his arm. He steadied himself against the railing. He could just go home, that was the most appealing option, get a bottle of whiskey, drown any lingering shock and pain, leave the Porters and their mess behind him. It wouldn’t work that way however, he had a job to do, and right now he had the feeling that if he didn’t see this whole episode with Conor through, there was a very real possibility that Syd would turn up at his door, an effective death sentence. Do the job, and consider the future career path afterwards. Taking a couple of minutes to catch his breath and slow his heartrate, he trudged his way up the stairs. Stopping by the door, he practised a smile, his facade slipping back into place as his true emotions were pushed below the surface. Do your job, worry later. He pushed the door open, the easy going smile slipping into place as he surveyed the reception, his eyes settling on Maddox, he made his way towards him, his hand extended.


“Dr Maddox I presume? Mitchell Van Gerwen, you’ll have to forgive me for my tardiness, traffic was a nightmare,”


His voice was noticeably hoarse as it came out, a side effect of Syd’s vice like grip.

"Shall we get things started, I'd hate to use up anymore of your weekend,"

(Interaction: Misty Gray Maddox, Pyroclast Syd)

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Aliana Cartwright-Sullivan
Leo Sullivan

Conor's words pissed her off even more and it showed on her face as well as in her voice. In a low, angry whisper she retaliated taking note of her surroundings before she did so. "Fuck that. You made promises to do and be better Conor, and it took you going to prison to do it. I don't care what it does to me, I care what it does to my son. I told you what that shit did to me you made a promise. You just better be glad the kid looks up to you so much because I swear to God if you break his heart..." She stopped herself when she realized her high her emotions were getting out of control. Her hands were shaking, knowing she had so much built up anger inside not just from the situation she was currently in but with a lot that was going on in her life. Hoping he hadn't noticed she took her hands from the table and put them in her lap. At the moment, she was unable to look at him; unable to see that her marriage was falling apart. Partly because of her own outrageousness and partly because Conor was in prison. There was more she wanted to say of course, but she visibly bit her lip so she wouldn't.

"It's unbelievable," she started, chuckling to herself at his mention of her coming. "That you would think I don't care. I could've asked anyone else to bring Leo but I came instead of going through the trouble." For whatever reason, she really could no longer look at him. She wasn't sure if it was because she was disappointed in him, herself, or because she knew she was about to break down in tears but whatever the case. Once he asked for Leo again, she whistled for him to come over. Hearing the sound, he came with two juice pouches. When he saw the look on his moms face, his own scrunched up handing her the juice. "You look sad-mad, mom. Here." Sitting back in the seat, he looked between his parents. Ali looked at him and smiled softly before kissing the top of his head. "Not sad-mad, silly. Just tired. I think I'm going to go to the car and take a quick nap then, okay? I'll make sure the guard gets you back to me so you can spend time with your father." Without waiting for a word of protest, she got up, talked to the guard, and left unable to take her time to do anything. Once she did get to the comforts of her own vehicle, she let it all loose.

Leo sat across from Conor, having poked the straw through his juice. "You must have had an 'emotional conversation' just now. That's what grandmah tells me whenever mom looks sad-mad." He shrugged his shoulders, thinking nothing of it before smiling at Conor. "Anyway! I can't wait for you to come home. We can have a party!"

Conor
( Misty Gray )
​

 

[Misty Gray]

Maddox Parker​

Maddox had remained at the reception desk, studying his diary as Laura sat eagerly waiting for him to speak up about his observations. "We're in luck, Laura. Monday morning is free all round, so you don't have to come in until the afternoon." He couldn't help but grin at the clear joy on the woman's face at being able to have a sleep-in after Sunday's Fourth of July celebrations. He didn't get the opportunity to say more as his attention was redirected to the man walking towards him.

Maddox shook the man's hand and listened as he introduced himself as Mitchell Van Gerwen. He briefly remembered Syd talking about Mitch in the session but he pushed any curious thoughts aside, deeming it irrelevant to the meeting he was about to have. "Yes, I'm Maddox Parker. It's good to meet you, Mr. Gerwen," he told him, flashing a friendly smile. He picked up on the man's hoarse voice and something seemed a little off with him, but the doctor chose to ignore it and put it down to the man apparently rushing through traffic. "Would you like a drink?" he offered, figuring he could at least address the man's hoarse voice. If Mitchell accepted the offer, Maddox asked Laura to get their drinks and bring them to his office.

"I think getting started is a good idea," he agreed. He led the lawyer to his office and closed the door behind him. Once inside, he offered Mitchell a seat on one of the sofas and sat opposite him, with the coffee table positioned between them. On the coffee table, Conor's file rested, until Maddox retrieved it and rested it on his lap. Maddox tapped his index finger onto the paperwork before looking to Mitchell.

"This is my copy of the report I will be personally delivering to the prison on Monday. I have outlined my assessment of Mr. Sullivan and detailed the progress I have made with him throughout his counselling sessions. I have outlined the improvements he has made and I have put forward my recommendation that he should be granted his release. I have assured the Prison Governor that I am more than willing to sit in front of the parole board and defend my report to them." Maddox placed the file down on the coffee table and sat forward in his seat, looking to the lawyer. "However, Mr. Sullivan needs to understand that this will come with conditions and I'm hoping you can ensure he takes them seriously. If he is granted parole, he will need to continue his sessions with me, here. My report states that I will continue to assess Mr. Sullivan after his release and I will be obligated to feed back to the board if he shows any signs of violent outbursts or aggression again. They'll take my recommendation for his release more seriously if they know he'll still be receiving counselling." He paused to think of the other points that would work in Conor's favour. "I understand he will be living with Mrs. Callahan and her family. I suppose that's an angle you'll need to present in Mr. Sullivan's favour, but I expect that environment will help him find structure and help him to reintegrate."

Maddox glanced to the paperwork Mitchell had brought with him. "Mr. Sullivan has been thriving in our sessions lately, but I'm hoping you can help him accept that if he is released, he will still need to keep up with the counselling until his probation ends. Is there anything more you'll need from me for this?" he asked. He was happy to share as much as he was permitted to and interested to hear if the lawyer had built up a strong case to run alongside his own report.

RayPurchase (Mitchell)

 

[Misty Gray]

Savannah Callahan​

Savannah scoffed when Syd told her what he thought of Andre. "The guy's an utter dickhead, more like," she offered her own thoughts on her manager. She smiled when he asked about tickets and quickly nodded her head. "I can get you tickets whenever you want. The show opens in a few weeks and I can make sure you get front row tickets. I'll flutter my eyelashes at to get them, if I have too," she joked. "I hope you all like it. Though I hope someone reminds Mum it's not real..." she trailed off, knowing full well the character she was playing is killed as the story unfolds.

She couldn't help but grin as Syd spoke of his hangover and the embarrassment of the night before. She smiled encouragingly upon hearing he'd had his counselling session as she was glad he was still getting support and the help he needed. It had terrified her when she'd heard of his suicide attempts. The thought of losing her cousin had been greatly upsetting, especially in the wake of already losing Skye. She was just glad he was recovering and for the most part he seemed more content.

When made to promise not to tell Roxie what was being said, Savannah quickly nodded her head to confirm she understood. "No, she didn't send me here. I haven't seen her since I went to sleep last night, but I'm sure I'll see her back at the apartment tonight."

Savannah frowned upon hearing Syd hadn't been nice to Roxie. She was sad that her cousin had felt he needed to act that way, clearly still struggling to get close to anyone since losing Skye. She also felt bad to hear that her friend had been at the receiving end of it all. Syd didn't deserve to have gone through all of the things he'd had thrown at him, but Roxie didn't deserve to see only a negative side of Syd. "You don't have to keep driving people away, Syd. It's okay to find happiness again," she softly told him. "You deserve to be happy!"

The blonde cocked her head to one side and studied Syd as he asked her if she could put him in touch with Roxie. A curious smile crossed her lips as she considered her suspicion that her cousin had the hots for her friend. She sat up straight and composed herself, quickly nodding. "Of course I will. I'll tell her you want to make it up to her and I've I'll make sure you two get in touch with each other, one way or another," she assured him.


Pyroclast (Syd)

 

[Pyroclast]

Danny Vaughan

"Hey, come on, what d'you take me for?" he cut in, but he couldn't hold back a grin. It was clear Owen was teasing him about the young woman he had been chatting to a moment ago. He couldn't deny that she had caught his eye - even after she had left to sit at her table, Danny had been struggling not to steal glances at her. It didn't take long for him to reach the conclusion that her beauty was something extraordinary. Still, he had done his best to focus his attention on his roommate in hopes that he wouldn't pick up on his attraction to her. Apparently, however, he had underestimated his perception skills.

"Ah, you make a good point, I guess. Don't wanna land myself in any hot water with those guys..." His tone was lighthearted, but in truth the East Harlem gang made him a bit anxious. Something about the secrecy of it all, a fear of the unknown; he had never known the faces of his employers, but he had a strong feeling that they knew his. "Do what you gotta do, man, but don't be stupid. If anythin' feels off, you call me, got it?"

Until his parents and several of their friends decided to emigrate to India, Danny had been living in what was essentially a commune. The house was never quiet, with family friends both new and old always passing through. With such a large network of friends, it wasn't common for personal issues to be ignored; everyone banded together to help, even pitching in to pay each others' bills. There was no point trying to deal with problems alone when there was someone there willing to help, and even now that he lived in a different environment, Danny maintained that same philosophy. So when Owen rejected his offer, he was forced to remind himself that his roommate had come from a different background and had most likely found his own ways to deal with such things. If nothing else, he was independent enough to make his own decisions.

At mention of Syd's arrival, Danny raised his head to give the room a scan - his eyes naturally fell on Savannah first, and immediately noticed his boss sitting at the table with her. "Ah, shit - he was meant to be off today... If anyone asks, you paid for that drink. And while you're at it, act like you're old enough to be in here." Danny opened the cash register and pretended to make a transaction. Instead, he just took a dime from the tray and flipped it in Owen's direction.

Interactions
Fletchawk Owen

 

[Inb4Cloaker]

Farrid Al-Assad​

While it didn’t take an excessive amount of time to move Scott from point A to point B, it still felt like an eternity for Assad. Despite the minor injury the man sustained, he continued worsening in his condition. Bleeding was controlled, but his sluggishness was becoming more pronounced by his broken responses and tired breaths. By the time Bailey left his side and began to attend to her objectives, Farrid offered a confident smile and rushed the injured man into the clinic.

“This’ll be quick, if you stay with me and let it go smoothly.” He confirmed as he ushered the man through the doors.

The clinic was a small room, packed wall to wall with an assortment of materials that the medic utilized often in his line of work. Granted, his workspace wasn’t as well furnished or stocked as a full blown hospital, but his supplies still allowed him to do his job to the best of his abilities. Many items were labeled properly, and there was a strong sense of organization throughout the small medical facility he had established. The effectiveness of having a discreet place to treat those harmed during acts that were best kept off the records, along with the fact that it was tucked away in a mansion that was mob affiliated, made the small space a valuable asset with low risks in terms of it being targeted by rival organizations or law enforcement. If the mansion owner didn’t have an affinity for dogs, Farrid would say that the location was perfect. Sweeping a few packets of various supplies off a usually untouched litter that was held up by two stands, the medic gently assisted Scott in placing himself atop the dark green cover. The Syrian driver would’ve preferred using an actual operating table as compared to a battlefield transportation device, however it would still serve the purpose that was required of it. As soon as Scott was positioned, the medic began to collect the supplies that were necessary and lay them out alongside the litter.

“Alright. Showtime.”

What followed his words was a process that followed the general course of what he described to Scott earlier. Initially, Farrid surveyed the injury and did his best to confirm that blood loss was lessened enough to begin applying the permanent interventions he spoke of earlier. The hemostatic agents did well to stem the flow of crimson, and the prior insurgent was competent enough in his skills to create an effective barrier with the gauze. Peeling away small portions of the fabric and assessing the wound itself, he determined that the bullet did not pierce bone, nor was there extensive damage to the scapula. The medic didn't want to cause excessive pain to the man, but knew that the steps of removing the lead would come next. There were others in his history of medicine that suffered gunshot wounds, but didn’t have the bullet removed because it would do more harm than good. Should the injured man would find himself lucky that he would not be one of those special cases, or not, the medic didn’t know. Knowing that he was about to get up-close and personal with the injury, he glanced around through his dim lenses in an effort to find something to cover his face. Within arms reach was a red and white checkered cloth, which he snatched up and tied just above his nostrils. Years of applying bandana like masks and headdresses to his face allowed him to tighten fabric without any visible effort. Meanwhile, he indicated a sizable pile of cardboard that he placed next to Scott.

“Now, I’m not a doctor, but I’d say you aren’t going to die today.” Farrid then began to sanitize his hands and dry them before applying gloves to himself. “I’m also not a surgeon, but that’s not gonna stop me now. Bite the cardboard if you feel like you’re gonna scream.”

Morphine was still on the table to assist with the pain, but unless Scott was able to recover from his sluggish state, pain would jut have to be something he dealt with. A pair of forceps, sterile water with soap, more gauze, and a quick prayer was all the medic needed to do his job. Minutes passed, and the operation he performed was simple, albeit most likely painful. First, he gingerly removed the intruding bullet while avoiding another surge of excessive bleeding. Of course, Assad placed the piece of lead behind him in case the gunrunner wanted to inspect it, or if Scott wanted to keep a memento from the wild ride he was an unwilling participant of. Promptly after doing so, he washed out the wounded area with water and soap rather than alcohol, as he wanted to speed the healing process up with the hopes of avoiding any hinderance that alcohol may come with. When he double checked for any bone damage or tears in tissue that may cause further complications, he also prepared the next roll of gauze that would be utilized before dressing the wound. For the time being, the injury would stay covered and packed until the area was able to heal on its own. If Assad was grateful for anything, it would have to be the natural ability for the human body to adapt to even the most gruesome wounds. With time and attentive care, Scott would be able to make a steady recovery. The final touches on the process involved applying a sling and swathe to his arm and a few words of encouragement.

“Done. Well, you survived. I guess this’ll be a story to tell your friends and family, hm? That definitely could’ve gone worse. Chances are, I’ll be seeing you again shortly to check up on you. For now, just sit tight and rest.” Assad spoke from behind the cloth, still looking over the man and assessing the possibly of something he missed. He also heaved a sigh of relief, finally seeing an end to all the madness, as well as finding peace in the fact that he was able to do his job effectively.

“Is there anyone you want us to contact so they can come here and see you?” The medic asked, removing his gloves and tossing them aside.

المهمة كاملة

Mentions: Syd Pyroclast
Interactions: Bailey Pilgrim59 Scott Misty Gray​

 

[Misty Gray]

Conor Sullivan​

Conor could tell his words had angered Aliana, but he was still deciding how much of what he'd said he actually regretted. Whilst he knew he'd messed up when he got himself arrested after promising his wife he wouldn't follow in Allen's footsteps, he still thought Aliana was being somewhat unreasonable. He'd been in prison for three years and it broke his heart that she hadn't visited him in all of that time. She had her reasoning, which she also had for not visiting her father, but he didn't understand how she could love him but stay away for so long. He'd held onto the hope he would be able to make it up to her once he got out, but he felt the hope his marriage had keep him filled with was rapidly slipping through his fingertips. Seeing Robbo with his own visitor a short distance away seemed to come at the wrong time and make Conor wish he could lash out by headbutting the bastard. But he knew that kind of thinking was what had got him where he was in the first place and it was the reason he was always thinking of healthier behaviours to focus his mind and energy on.

"I'm not going to break Leo's heart. No matter what you think of me, please don't ever think I would do anything to hurt our kid," he seriously told his wife. "I know you're here today. I just wish this day had been years ago..." he dejectedly trailed off.

When Leo returned to the table, Conor had once again found his own big cheerful smile as he watched the boy sit down. On the inside, he cringed as Leo asked about Aliana being sad and mad. He didn't like that the boy was stuck in the middle of whatever was going to with them, but Conor couldn't exactly find space and privacy in the prison visiting room. Conor watched as Aliana got up and left, knowing he was unable to intercept her or do much at all to stop her. He was sure he'd said more than enough already. The man let out a sigh before returning his attention to Leo.

"Ah, this is what happens when you fall in love, mate. A whole lot of emotional conversations..." he said, grinning widely. "But if you love 'em, it'll be more than worth it," he reassured him. As bad as things were with his wife, Conor wasn't about to start badmouthing women and giving Leo any unhealthy impressions of relationships. He wanted his son to respect women and not be put off of the idea of falling in love. "Also, it's so much easier if you don't do dumb shit like your dad here has done!"

Conor chuckled at Leo's enthusiasm about him coming home and having a party. "Ah, we'll have a party, for sure. We could get your Uncle Jimbo to throw one at his big palace," he playfully suggested. Before he could continue, he heard the guard calling out for everyone to finish up their visits. Conor groaned, hating how fast visiting time always flew by. "Right, Leo. I need to you be good and keep looking after your mother, yeah? Also, keep the hamster away from the fish bowl and probably keep the dog away from both the fish and the hamster." After glancing around at the guards, Conor took advantage of the moment they weren't looking in his direction and leaned forward to gently squeeze his son's shoulder. "I'm working real hard on getting out soon, so stay patient. We'll be partying in no time."


Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana, Leo)

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

Syd chuckled, picturing his Aunt Sinead's reaction to Savannah on stage. Of course, he wasn't all that familiar with the plot of Oliver Twist himself, so he hadn't much of idea of what to expect. Works of fiction in whatever form weren't really his area. Some may call him uncultured, but he had his own areas of expertise and made appearances at events when the time called for it. Savannah's performances, along with Gwen's and Sinead's, were certainly not something he would ever want to miss. Despite his lack of interest in the arts, Syd still considered himself lucky to be surrounded by such talent. "I'll hold her hand through it, don't you worry. She'll be crying before the curtains even come up!"

His cousin was sweet to offer such encouraging words, and Syd smiled softly at her, unsure of how to respond. Not having met many women that he deemed worth telling his family about, conversations about finding that kind of happiness again had been few and far between. Considering that he still wore his wedding ring, romance was a delicate subject that not many dared to press him about. Yet, his being alone was something of which Syd was very much conscious. Even if it wasn't often brought up, he knew that each passing year that he ended without a woman at his side only drew more attention to his lack of progress in that area of life. He didn't want to be alone forever, and he knew that his mother in particular was keen to see him settle down. Pushing Roxie away the second he thought she might be flirting with him had been instinctual but it had also come as something as a wake-up call. If, like Savannah told him, he deserved to be happy, then he would need to start being brave enough to pursue it.

Syd's request for a favour was immediately granted. His cousin was obviously keen for there to be no ill feelings between him and her roommate, two people whom she cared about; that much made sense to him, but he was unaware of her true interest in the matter. "You'll have my back, though, won't you? If she talks about me? You'll tell her I'm a good person?" Syd looked across the table at her with doubt in his eyes. He set his hands down in front of him and began to weave his fingers together, his gaze held firmly on her. The question of whether he was a good person remained unanswered in his own head; he tried, of course, to do what he believed was right, to act in a righteous manner, to be kind to those whom he felt deserved it. As long as the moral rules that he followed were ones he himself believed in, then he at least wouldn't be lying to himself. Yet, he knew how easy it was to stray from them. Recent behaviour showed a lack of control over sticking to his own moral beliefs and, as a consequence, people had ended up hurt.

Shaking his head, he continued, "No, no, actually, it's fine - don't worry about it. Don't worry about that. Roxie can make her own opinion of me. If I want her to think I'm a good person, I'll earn it." Syd brought his fist down on the table with an almost comic look of determination on his face. He didn't want his tone to sound too serious, or she might think he was starting to obsess over her. One of the waiters came over to their table then with Savannah's salad and asked Syd if he wanted anything. But he simply got to his feet and replied, "No thanks, Tim. I've got somewhere to be." He patted his employee on the shoulder to send him on his way before reaching into his jacket for his zippo lighter. "I'm going to go and see if mam and dad are in Manhattan," he told her, leaning down to light the candle in the centre of the table. "You enjoy the rest of your day, Savannah. Don't let any dickheads named Andre stop you from relaxing - you deserve your rest." As he passed behind her, Syd placed both hands over her ears and kissed the top of her head. He turned and smiled to her as he left. Whatever insecurities had surfaced during their short conversation had now been reburied.


Syd wasn't sure if his parents would still be in the city or whether they would be back in Bayside by now, but while he was there he thought he might as well check in before going back to their mansion to pick up his dogs. He hadn't yet seen either of his parents since the previous night. Even after his final drink had ended up being spilled all over Roxie's dress, the effects of the alcohol had still got progressively worse and he now couldn't even remember how he had got to bed. Assuming his parents would have no doubt helped him out, he felt he owed them at least a short visit to pay his gratitude.

The door wasn't locked to him, as he occasionally required the use of the apartment, too. Upon entering, it didn't at first seem like anyone was home, since the main room was totally silent. Yet he knew from passing Warren outside that they were both home. Syd closed the front door and chewed on his lip for a second, hoping he wasn't interrupting an intimate moment. For several seconds he stood still and hesitantly, listening out - but then realised that if that was what they were doing, he wouldn't want to hear anything at all. "Hello?" he called out to break the silence, hanging up his jacket on the door to affirm his decision to stay. "Mam? Dad?"

Interactions
Misty Gray James, Savannah
Bellz Lucy, Roxie (mentioned)

 

[Pyroclast]

Alistair Sawyer

Alistair couldn't quite believe his luck in getting the information required out of Patrick. The poor man hadn't the tolerance for pain that Alistair had seen other men bear during his lifetime and had therefore given up the address of the woman they had been after much sooner than expected. His luck seemed to double when, that very night, his men had managed to track her down and bring her to him. Knowing something of her fighting spirit, she had been drugged to avoid a struggle. By the time the afternoon had rolled around, however, she had awoken, and Alistair was prepared to begin business.

Handing the blade to Ethan, he uttered, in a low voice, "On my signal." There was a hint of excitement in his tone and he suppressed a smile as he opened the door that lead them to the adjoining room in which the woman lay. Her hands and feet were bound together behind her back, but the soldiers he had sent out to capture her had managed to do so without injuring her too much.

"Talk about fortunate," he said to himself as he peered down at her. "We've got a Sullivan on our hands." Alistair crouched down in front of her and locked his eyes onto hers. "Arlene Sullivan from Manchester, Connecticut...For someone with such a high profile name, you were surprisingly easy to track down. I was half hoping someone would have come looking for you by now, but..." He glanced at his watch. "...I'm afraid they'd be too late."

Alistair smiled at her, reaching forward to caress the bruise that had formed on her cheek. "I wonder how that child of yours is getting on. It almost broke my heart when I heard...but if you Sullivans are as tough as legend claims, I have no doubt that she'll be just fine without you." He patted Arlene on the head with a feined look of sympathy before standing up and straightening his tie. "In any case, I have a present for you that I think might cheer you up. You won't believe what it is." Alistair caught Ethan's eye and sent him a knowing look, to signify that the time had come to hold Arlene steady. Then he left the room.

The screeching of metal against the wooden floorboards was jarring, but it only worsened as Alistair managed to drag the chair into the small, concrete cell where Arlene was waiting. Patrick remained strapped to the chair, having been stuck there throughout the night. A few of his fingernails were missing and the lesions on his torso still cracked and oozed at the edges. The freshest wounds, however, were on his eyes, which were now so swollen and purple that it was impossible to tell what colour they were supposed to be. Alistair turned the chair to face Arlene and leaned with one hand against the backrest as he caught his breath.

"Dead weight," he explained, mopping at his brow. An excited grin spread across his face. "You should have seen how quickly he gave you up, Arlene. You sure know how to pick 'em!" He looked to Ethan and laughed. Once he had calmed down enough, he gestured to Ethan to hold the blade securely against her throat so that she wouldn't try to move. Meanwhile, Alistair reached into his pocket and retrieved a roll of garrote wire, which he proceeded to unwind in silence as he slowly stepped behind Patrick. "I'll admit, I am curious to see how much you two care about each other. Something about this whole ordeal has left me somewhat invested in your little relationship." Alistair gazed vacantly at the wall ahead of him for a second as he coiled the wire around his hands for a secure grip. "But, unfortunately for you, not invested enough to see how it plays out." Fixing his eyes on Arlene, Alistair wrapped the wire around Patrick's neck and pulled as tightly as he could. A dark smile crept onto his face as he watched her reaction.

When at last the deed was over, Alistair let the bloody wire fall from his grip and stepped round to admire his work. "It's always fun when they think they are going to be set free," he calmly remarked. Turning to Arlene, he allowed himself some time to take in her facial expression, to let it leave an impression on his memory. "Tell me, Arlene," he said, softly. "What do you think we brought you here for?"

Interactions
Misty Gray Arlene, Ethan
Bellz Ammon ??

 

[Misty Gray]

Ethan Turner and Arlene Sullivan​

Arlene was knelt up, her hands and feet bound together behind her. She still felt a little groggy and there was a slight throbbing pain in her bruised cheek. She couldn't quite remember how her face came to be in pain, but given her present position, she could only assume it had been at the hands of the men standing before her - or at least, people associated with them. She remembered saying good night to Olivia and leaving the child with the babysitter. She'd been on her way for a night shift at the casino, but she wasn't sure she remembered getting there. It seemed hazy and Arlene didn't like uncertainty. The woman liked to be in control and on the ball.

Regardless of her physical state and any confusion, she knew by now of the kind of hostile situation she was in. Hell, it wasn't even the first time she'd been abducted and held against her will. Her eyes briefly fixed on Ethan as the man took the blade from Alistair. She'd like to pretend she didn't recognise him and think of him as insignificant, but she remembered who he was. Failing to kill that man all of those years ago had been a huge part of why Liam had lost faith in her. Having assured her brother of her excellent track record as a hitwoman, she'd promised Liam that Ethan would be killed. Something told her that mistake was going to haunt her even more now.

When Alistair spoke, Arlene lifted her head and stared the man in the eyes, refusing to appear as if she were lowering her head and submitting to him. He spoke her name and of where she was from. "From New York City, actually," she corrected him. Though her voice was hoarse due to her thirst, it still carried some fire within it. "It's a big city," she replied, assuming they were in New York. "Be patient and my family will let themselves in..."

Arlene froze and tensed her shoulders as Alistair stroked her cheek. Any expression of disgust was soon pushed aside when he mentioned Olivia. From the way he spoke, her daughter had been left alone and she could at least be thankful for that. She hoped her family had got to the girl already and that she could take comfort in Olivia being looked after. She didn't respond to Alistair about the child, not wanting to hear the bastard speak again of her innocent daughter.

At mention of a present, Arlene was about to look around the room. Before she could, Ethan had stepped behind her so he could grab her by the hair and make sure she had no choice but to keep looking straight ahead. She then felt the cold blade against her throat as a warning for her to keep still. Though he then moved the blade away from her skin, he continued to let it hover close to her neck. "You should have finished the job," Ethan spoke coldly into her ear, referring to her inability to fatally wound him the day she murdered his wife.

Arlene's attention was pulled towards the chair that was being dragged into the room. Her eyes widened as she recognised Patrick beneath the blood and swelling to his face. Her heart sank as she saw the state the man was in. He'd been nothing but accepting of her past and never shown apprehension about the potential dangers of being with her. She would go as far as to say she loved the man. She'd recently let her guard down and introduced him to Olivia, after all. Growing up, Jack and Liam had taught her to to build up a wall; a coldness that would prevent her from acquiring emotional baggage. For a long time, she had done exactly as she'd been taught and in return she proved to be a successful and relentless asset to the family business. It pained her to realise that the position she and Patrick were now in had happened far too close to her letting the man into her heart. It seemed Jack and Liam had been right all along.

With the chair turned so Patrick was directly facing her, Arlene looked the man over, cringing as she saw the mess he was in. She tightly closed her eyes as she tried to focus on being the detached woman she'd been for most of her life. In the life she had before Olivia became her number one priority and showed her she was allowed to love. She opened her eyes again as Alistair spoke of how easily Patrick had given up her location. Though she was a little disappointed, she reminded herself that the man wasn't a thug or a gangster. He'd been a decent man with no ties to organised crime - he would have been completely out of his depth as the bastards tortured him for information.

"No. Wait!" Arlene protested as she watched Alistair wrap the wire around Patrick's throat. As she attempted to move, Ethan grabbed her hair tighter than before and jolted her head back, making sure she could only look towards Patrick. "NO!" she yelled as she watched Alistair kill her lover before her own eyes.

"Now you know how it feels... To watch someone you care about die before your eyes..." Ethan hissed into the blonde woman's ear.

Arlene tightly closed her eyes, but it wasn't enough to prevent the tears from streaming down her face. She was certain Olivia was safe, but she couldn't help but wish she'd been able to say goodbye to her daughter. She'd just watched Patrick being slaughtered in front of her eyes. The way Alistair spoke of how it was fun when his victims thought they were going to be set free only left her certain she would soon be joining Patrick in death. There was no way for her to escape and even if they demanded information from her, she believed they would still kill her rather than bargaining with her. She was certain her captors would kill her and no amount of talking would change that. As much as her heart broke for Olivia and Patrick, she wouldn't let Alistair and Ethan see her as weak. She had to try find that cold, hard woman Jack had taught her to be.

When Alistair asked what she thought they'd brought her there for, her eyes shot to the man and her features reflected a sense of cold hatred. "I don't know..." she growled. Her eyes widened as she appeared to find some strength; some fight in her. "Is it the fact that no woman would voluntarily share your company?" she remarked. She then shook her head, taking advantage of the fact Ethan had let go of her hair and reverted to just holding the knife back to her neck. "I assume it's purely insanity that's possessed you to bring me here. You know who I am and that means you know about my family. When they find out what you've done, you're both fucked. You're crazy if you think there's any way you'll benefit from this."

Pyroclast (Alistair) Bellz (Ammon)

 

[Misty Gray]

Maddox Parker​

As soon as Maddox had finished his meeting with Mitchell, Laura entered his office with a slightly awkward expression on her face. Maddox had been about to tell her she could leave for the day as he was beyond ready to get home himself. Instead, she informed of a phone call she'd taken and that he was needed urgently at the hospital. "Well, damn. No rest for the wicked, huh?"

"They don't have anyone working the hospital shift who can do it. Go figure..." she said, rolling her eyes. "I knew you wouldn't refuse anyway," she said, knowing how much Dr. Parker cared about his work and patients.

*********​

Maddox had been sat by the woman's hospital bed for the last ten minutes. He'd been informed she was in her mid-twenties, but the pallor of her skin and the exhaustion in her red raw eyes seemed to age her by at least a decade. Outside the private room stood a male police officer and a nurse, impatiently standing by the window as they were no doubt grumbling about having to wait for the psychological assessment to be completed. Maddox looked down to the checklist that was attached to the clipboard and he was by now sure he'd memorised the words on the page down to the last letter. Her history told a textbook story and one he knew he couldn't ignore, yet he wasn't willing to make a decision based on someone else's words alone. He was the one who had the final say and he who would sign his name on the paper. Unlike those standing outside of the room, he was happy to spare some of his own time if it meant he'd made a careful and informed decision.

...Negative symptoms reported during the prodromal period... Lack of interest in hobbies and disinterest in socialising. Separation from fiance. Erratic sleep patterns...

Maddox tore his eyes from the words and looked back to the young woman as she mumbled something unintelligible. The man shifted forward in his seat so he could look closer to the disturbed woman. "Julia?" he gently spoke her name. She attempted to sit up, but the restraints around her limbs and torso prevented her from doing so. Maddox glanced to the woman's arms and the bandages around her wrists from the self-inflicted wounds. He already determined she had not been in full control of her own mind when she acted in the self-destructive manner. "Julia, do you know where you are?" he repeated the question he'd asked twice already.

"It's not safe in here. I can still hear them. They're still here," Julia finally spoke up. Her voice was in loud whisper, echoing the woman's sense of desperation.

"Who's here, Julia?" Maddox asked, turning the clipboard face-down on his lap so he could focus on the patient rather than the crude checklist he was obligated to complete.

"Don't you see them? They're always watching me. They made me do this," she said, her eyes now wide open as she looked down to her wrists. She began to desperately try to pull her arms free of the restraints but her inability to do so caused her to cry out in a panicked state. Concerned she would only cause further injury to her wounds, Maddox stood up and turned to the window, sending a nod to the nurse as her cue to enter the room. "I'm scared. Please don't leave me alone with them," she cried to the doctor.

...Delusions. Hallucinations...

With the nurse by his side, Maddox gently placed his hand on the patient's shoulder and spoke reassuringly to her. "I'm here, Julia. Look at me," he instructed her, to which she complied. As the traumatised woman stared at Maddox, the nurse injected the sedative into the back of her hand. Julia visibly flinched, causing Maddox to lightly squeeze her shoulder to keep her attention on him. "It's okay, Julia. I won't let anyone hurt you."

*********​

Once Julia was sedated, Maddox stepped out of the room. The interaction with the patient had clearly been a difficult one. He moved to the nearby desk and placed the paperwork down so he could finish completing his report. He sensed the presence of the burly police officer and the petite nurse behind him, but chose to block them out until he was finished. He liked his job, but every so often he had to face difficult decisions. Having patients sectioned was something he could never take lightly. It felt like he was playing God in an innocent woman's life; dictating where she should be sent without her being given a say in her own future.

Maddox had barely managed to write his signature on the bottom of the paper when he heard the cop's forceful voice speak up. "I haven't got all day, Doc. Am I locking her up or are you taking her to the nuthouse?" the officer persisted. The cop glanced down to his hand which had been stitched and dressed. He'd been injured by Julia's knife when she lashed out at him outside the police station.

"Once Julia is well enough to be moved..." Maddox began, handing the completed paperwork to the nurse. "As the patient presents an imminent danger to herself and to others, she is to be committed to the psychiatric hospital where she can be cared for appropriately. She is to be kept here, sedated and under close observation, until a time she is physically well enough to be moved. You have the number for my office and she is not to be moved from this hospital without myself or one of my colleagues accompanying her." He looked directly to the police officer who, despite towering him by a few inches, did nothing to intimidate him. "That is all, Officer. Until the patient is deemed to be in the appropriate state of mind, she must not be questioned."

*********​

Maddox carried his briefcase with him as he briskly walked along the corridor of the hospital. In a very short time, he'd decided he wouldn't be cooking that evening and instead would grab a takeaway on the way home. There were a lot of options in Manhattan and his mind was listing thought a list of available options. Maybe all he was really craving was pizza, but then he had to decide what kind of pizza...

Maddox turned the corner and felt the moderate impact as his right arm collided with that of someone else. The shock snapped him out of his food thoughts and caused him to loosen his hold of the briefcase handle, sending the black leather case falling to the ground. "My apologies..." he distractedly apologised, lightly touching the woman's elbow as he crouched down to retrieve what he'd dropped. With the briefcase handle firmly gripped, Maddox stood up straight again and looked to the lady he'd collided with. His eyes widened as he recognised the woman standing before him. He awkwardly smiled as he felt his cheeks reddening. It wasn't very often that the man was flustered, but it had been a long day and he'd let himself get lost in his thoughts. "I'm so sorry, Dr. Saraff," he softly apologised. He looked at her arm, the one he'd bumped into, hoping he hadn't hurt her through his clumsiness. For some reason, just doing that caused him to blush even more. He knew the woman already as their professions and business in the hospital meant they'd worked alongside each other in the past. That seemed to make it all the more embarrassing for him. But he did already know her. "Ani, are you okay?" he kindly asked, the genuine concern evident in his voice.


Bellz (Ani)

 

[Pyroclast]

Alistair Sawyer

The sight of tears on the Sullivan woman's face brought great pleasure to Alistair. Until Liam's death, the Sullivan gang had been in power in New York for many years, so it was satisfying to see one of its remaining family members look so powerless. Still, he did not let it show; his stony eyes remained fixed on her as she glared up at him. Her response surprised him at first, for he had assumed that, given her family's reputation, she would hold valuable information worth holding her hostage for. The answer she gave him in the end, however, was far more amusing than the one he had expected and he burst out laughing, having to momentarily break eye contact with her to collect himself.

"Maybe!" he nodded, unable to fully wipe the grin from his face. "Though if it was female company I was after, I have to say, you wouldn't be my first choice." Despite the position she was in, Arlene had spirit in her still and went on to warn them about the consequences of their actions. Alistair inhaled, a serious expression falling across his face. There was a strong possibility that the Irish Mob, made up largely of Arlene's family, would come after them for harming her. It was a risk, but not at all one that Alistair was afraid to take. Stepping between the woman and Patrick's body, he crouched down before her and leaned in close. "Everyone in this city and beyond knows about your family, Arlene. But you can't expect to build an empire without making a few enemies along the way. If it seems crazy to you to want to challenge their position of power, you clearly know nothing of our own." Alistair reached out and gently lifted her chin up so that he could properly take in her features, the colour of her eyes and the life in them that would soon be taken away. "Beautiful."

He stood up and walked around to the back of the chair to which Patrick's body was strapped and placed his hands on the man's bare, bloody shoulders. "Any final words, Arlene? Anything you'd like us to pass on to your dear daughter?"

Interactions
Misty Gray Arlene, Ethan