Misty Gray
Pessimisty
Conor Sullivan
Conor was sad to hear Evelyn's father was in jail, especially as it seemed he'd been there for some time seeing he'd been there since she was only 9 years old. "Ah, that's rough, not having an old man around when you were still growing up," he sympathetically told her. At least when Emmet had died, all of his kids were adults. "You know, my brother-in-law, Pete, is in that same place right now. I suppose it's a big prison, but that's still interesting." When Evelyn mentioned how Dale would be thrilled about her contact with one of the Sullivan kids, Conor chuckled at the enthusiasm. "Well, if you ever need company when you visit your old man, I'd be happy to tag along. I'd be quite interested to talk to him about my dad..." Conor thought for a time, the disappointment in himself for not being up to taking Emmet's position was something that often weighed on his mind. He wondered how Emmet had managed to do it when he'd been so young himself. "I mean, that's if you don't mind. I promise I'll be on my best behaviour," he remarked. The reason for such a comment was that he'd managed to piss a couple of wardens off during an earlier visit he'd made to Peter. He'd learned they had even less of a sense of humour the the coppers did.
Conor nodded in confirmation of his mother being Shannon. Listening as Evelyn spoke of Dale missing the gang business, he slowly nodded his head. "Well, I don't know if he's wanting to go straight when he gets out or not, but I'm sure James would hear him out if he did want to help with business again. We tend to stand by our loyal friends and family, so I like you old man's chances."
Conor went to get the bottle of whiskey and a couple of glass tumblers and returned to the table with them. "I won't tell a soul," he assured her. He then went to pour them a drink each. "Just say when..." he prompted, apparently not taking the request for a "wee" serving seriously. "We definitely need to keep the stocks coming. My places are always needing to restock. 'The Sullivan Pub' goes through it the fastest. Tink -Sinead- doesn't like that place. She says it's full of noisy drunken louts but I think that's its charm," he fondly told Evelyn. "Plus, it brings in the profits." He thought back to the matter at hand and sent Evelyn a reassuring smile. "I reckon James will hear you out on this one. We need a regular and stable supply."
When asked if things were running smoothly, Conor hesitated a little. Whilst the Porters were still very much in control of the city, the last few months had been some of the most testing since their move to Dublin. "We've been having a few issues lately, which are linked to our losses at Christmas. We've had some problems with a bunch of pricks who have an hard-on for explosions and an unhealthy distaste for anyone doing well in the city." Conor cleared his throat. "Sorry for the language, but we just buried a lad we all cared about. Those shitstains were responsible."
Pyroclast (Evelyn)