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

[Pyroclast]

Jason Costello

Since confessing his concern for Gwen's well-being, Jason was determined to continue supporting her in any way he could. He couldn't force her to go to rehab - and in his current situation, he couldn't afford to pay off her debts, either. All he could think to do was watch out for her and occupy her. At the risk of being an annoyance to her, he found himself calling her every day, finding the smallest excuse to talk just as a way to check in. He had been relieved to hear her ask for his support in her audition at All That Jazz, not only because it was a sign that she wasn't sick of his company but also because he had longed to watch her perform there ever since finding out that their old favourite club back in Dublin had been recreated in New York City. She held the ability to sweep him off his feet; as soon as she started to sing, everything else in the world ceased to exist. It was one of his favourite experiences in the world.

There were so few people in the club at that time of day that heads turned when he walked into the room. His eyes instantly fell on Gwen and he smiled her way. Seeing her in conversation with the other red-haired woman at the bar, it dawned on him that she would be the owner of the club - and that meant a member of Gwen's family. There was still a degree of anxiety that he associated with meeting her family, but at this point in his life he cared more about showing up for Gwen than he did for his own well-being. Besides, the owner didn't look threatening in the least.

Since he would have to get used to being around her family more often, Jason pushed the anxious thoughts aside and approached the pair. "Hey, you," he greeted Gwen, leaning in to swiftly kiss her on the cheek before turning to Sinead. "How's it goin'? I'm Jason," he smiled, offering the woman his hand. "Am I right in thinkin' you're the owner of this establishment? 'Cause let me tell ye, it's my favourite place in all the world, this bar. It's a pleasure t'be meetin' ye at long last."

All his apprehension fell away as he realised that he had something in common with the woman. He had even let himself forget about the trouble he used to cause in her previous club in Dublin, like shortchanging at the bar, pickpocketing and starting fights. If there was a chance that she would know of the disrespect with which he had treated the place, he might not have felt so confident. But the respect that Jason had for Sinead now seemed to override that. Sliding his arm around Gwen's waist, he glanced to the stage before looking between the two women. "I'm looking forward to this since ye told me Friday you'd be singin' up on this stage," he admitted with a small smile. "Tell me I haven't gone and missed it, now..."

Interactions
Bellz Gwen
Misty Gray Sinead

 

[Enzyme]

Jackson McCarthy​

As Conor brought up prison booze, Jackson shook his head and let out a whistle. He knew just how they were made, as his cellmate back in the day was considered a skilled mixologist. Jackson taste was far too precise to accept something completely off brand, especially anything made in a toilet bowl. His eyes slid to Conor, holding a smile, but with a fair amount of disgust present in his features. "Please tell me you weren't one of the Neanderthals that drank that putrid shite." His gaze remained on Conor, looking for a tell in his reaction. "You would, you fuckin' would." He shook his head once more, chuckling to himself. His eyes moved down to the coffee cup on the slab, cringing at it."Don't even look at me. You're just as nasty, ya' tart." He turned the coffee cup away from him so the logo was facing the other way.

At Conor's question, Jackson's smile slowly faded. With the conversation set aside, his instincts heightened, able to feel the level of unnerve more directly. He had chalked it up to the place being filled with cops, but now that Conor mentioned it, it did feel more intense. They were being stared at, and he could feel the subjects eyes burning into his skin, like the deputy who had stared daggers at him.

Jacksons eyes traced the hallway for potential threats, passing over a few families resting on the benches near by and the officers further down the hall. His eyes then locked with the silver stare of an Italian, masked by a heavy black beard and low-riding baseball cap. His arms, while hidden by a leather bomber jacket, bulged at the seems. Beside him was another man, standing within whisper distance, his appearance equally menacing. Jackson, while enjoying Conor's company, had been fairly vigilant in paroling the corridor. The abrupt appearance of the two Italians a few yards away was startling and he couldn't imagine they had been standing there long. "Were we expectin' visitors?" Jackson quietly asked Conor, although the tone in his voice suggested he already knew the answer.

When their eyes locked, the bearded man's stare didn't falter, rather his eyes widened and his nostrils flared. With the acknowledgement of their presence, the man stepped forward in an aggressive pace and shoved his balled fist into his coat pocket. Jackson's instinct took over and he didn't hesitate to push himself off the wall, not muttering another word to Conor. Being a contractor for many decades himself, he had no doubt what these two Italians were here for.

The man had barely enough time to pull the mysterious box from his pocket before Jackson's ringed knuckles connected with his cheek bone. The strike traded power for speed, quickly stunning the attacker and allowing Jackson to change the assailant's momentum into the opposite wall. Jackson registered the distinct flicking noise and didn't need a visual to confirm what it was. He shot his hand down, intercepting the man's wrist before he could plunge the switchblade into Jackson's gut.

Pushing himself closer into the bearded man's open coat, the two silently fought for control over the blade, muffling grunts as they stared into each other's bloodshot eyes. The scene would no doubt catch the entire hallway's attention if they weren't careful, which would end with all of them in handcuffs.

Misty Gray (Conor/Craig)

 

[Bellz]

Peter Callahan
Rebel Holt ​

Rebel sat snuggly in the passenger seat of the Ford as it rolled by the docks. She didn't pay much attention to the people that passed them by, taking more of an interest in their surroundings...looking for an out if things went south. Seeing several potential exit points, Rebel was satisfied with her findings as she leaned her head against the seat for a moment as the car rolled to a stop. Boyd greeted them but the Porters remained in the car for a moment.

Rebel turned her head back to look at Peter and Adam. "You'll have to sign off on the transaction Peter, since you are leading this thing. Adam and I will be right behind you." She told Peter to which he slowly nodded his head. He reached for the door and opened it slowly before stepping out, grabbing a briefcase that was full of cash. His eyes were scanning the area before landing on Boyd. Peter felt for his weapons, each hand lightly pressing against his hip and his chest before he held them out in greeting, "So nice to see you, Boyd." Peter greeted as he took a few steps towards the man, holding out his hand for him to shake.

Rebel reached behind the passenger seat and pulled out her AR-15, awkwardly holding it against her to get out of the vehicle, she grasped it tightly. Once out of the vehicle, she held it in front of her, aiming nowhere in particular as she just took in her surroundings. Eyeballing Adam as he got out of the car, Rebel took a step forward as Peter walked towards Boyd but decided to stay back a ways as not to intimidate the transaction.

Peter lifted the briefcase in his hand before letting his arm relax again. "I would assume you've brought the order in full. Otherwise we are going to have to sit here and count out exactly how much you'll be gettin' which won't be what we agreed upon if our deal is not met." Peter told Boyd, his voice deep and raised slightly as a gust of wind blew around them, causing the yacht behind Boyd to bounce wildly in the water.

Rebel lifted her weapon to her chest, nozzle pointed in the air as she took a few more steps towards Peter, joining in on the conversation now as she was told by James specifically how much they were suppose to receive today. "It betta be all of it." Rebel said in a cool tone as she eyed Boyd. She'd never done business with the man before but there was something to be noted about Colombians...certainly not trustworthy, by her determination.

He was far too young and most likely naive for this sort of thing. But regardless of the age, they had made a deal with him and now they were seeing it through. Peter looked towards Rebel for a moment before nodding his head and clenching his jaw, "You hand us the goods first and then I'll hand you the cash, amigo."
with: Enzyme RayPurchase Misty Gray Pyroclast

 

[Bugsy]

KEEGAN LYNCH​

It did not feel like four days.

The bottom of the bottle had never looked so appealing. Nor had his knuckles ever been so red.

He had promised Ma to keep them safe.

And he had failed.

Quinn was dead. Keegan had tried to put on a brave face, show the world that he was still the jaded, cold bastard that he was but family was family - nothing could negate how important that was to him. The looks that he had gotten from his brothers....from his sisters....from his own mother had broken him a thousand times over before a single word had been uttered.

The quiet corner just along from their street had become his home, a bottle in hand as he stared out at the passing traffic. Soon enough, a familiar feeling had bubbled in his chest - replacing that of the heartache he had, replacing the pain that he had felt. Anger. Revenge. Boiling hot and scolding. His knuckles white but stained red, his shoulders held back by his siblings as they found him beating down upon an unsuspecting thug. Moretti, East Harlem, he couldn't care less. Anyone who had looked at him funny was going to get it. All of it.

By the fourth day, Keegan had stirred from his sleep. He was on the sofa, his shirt ruffled and bloodied and his shoes still on. He could remember very little of the night before, or why his family had decided to take him back in. He staggered around the house, glaring at his siblings if they were so much to stare at him - he was still the head of the family and he wasn't going to let the slimy bastards get away with Quinn's murder without any repercussion. Quinn had acted because he had fallen out of the fight too early, Warren had been injured and Keegan hadn't even attempted to stop his brother. Declan had gone off to deal with the shock in his own way, and avoided Keegan for the time being. The Irishman gripped the sides of the ceramic sink, staring at his own reflection; pale, lost, on the edge of defeat.

He had to act.

He had spent too many hours staring at the bottom of bottles.

Keegan remembered that he had said he would stop by the house today, and such would honor such a promise. He changed into a fresh suit, packing a small pistol in the band of his trousers and a pair of brass knuckles in his suit jacket. Warren was still alive; that much he knew between his drunken stupors. The drive to the house wasn't long, nor had it done anything good for his mind as he drove in silence - his ma's words came floating in and out, the sharpness of her words; threatening and yet all true. He had arrived alone (as he was pretty sure he would exit the world alone).

It took him a couple of moments to fall into action, exiting the car and up to the front door of the Porter's home. Keegan pushed the door open into the home, his feet taking him to the lounge.

Tag: Bellz (Finn), Misty Gray (george)

 

[Misty Gray]

Adam Harper ​

Adam had been silent for much of the journey, choosing to focus his attention on being vigilant and aware of his surroundings. As it happened, those sharing the car with him weren't overly talkative either. Adam had known Peter since back in 1967, when he was put in prison for the second time. Though he'd been working for the Porters for over a year before that, Adam hadn't met Peter until he found himself sharing a prison wing with the man. They'd both had their own very different, though both unpleasant, experiences in jail but neither were the type to speak of them or drag up the past. They had their own ways of dealing with their demons and none of them involved some kind of emotional offloading to each other. Adam and Peter were friends, but their experiences in jail were something they simply did not discuss in any kind of deep level and things seemed better for that.

Adam had been scanning the area of the docks around them, looking out for anything untoward - especially any sign of police presence. When Rebel turned to address him and Peter, Adam eyed the woman and nodded in agreement as she confirmed they've be right behind Peter during the transaction. She was a tough lady and he found something quite attractive about that, even if he would never mix business with pleasure. It was merely a fleeting thought, overridden by the impression she was just as professional as both he and Peter were. Business would always come first and he wasn't one to become distracted on a job.

As Peter moved to step out of the car, Adam picked up his AR-15 and held it close against his chest as he got out of the vehicle. He wasted not time in readjusting the gun so he was ready to cover Peter and shoot if needed. Like Rebel, he dropped back a little, but put space between himself and the woman, ensuring he was covering different angles and had an alternative line of view to hers.

Rebel soon moved closer to Peter, but Adam remained back a little to cover the two of them. He overheard the conversation and the word "amigo" especially stuck in his mind. Much of the trafficking and trade Adam had been involved in was with the Cubans, Colombians and other Spanish-speaking groups. He tended to keep quiet on his ability to speak Spanish unless it was important to the transaction. It was sometimes interesting what some men would say in their native tongue when they didn't expect Adam to understand.

Bellz (Peter, Rebel)
Pyroclast Enzyme RayPurchase

 

[Misty Gray]

James Porter​

James had barely slept over the last four days. Since Friday, he'd felt the most stressed he could ever recall. It wasn't the first time Syd had attempted suicide but that made it no easier to bear. His son had been frighteningly close to killing himself and that weighed heavy on James' mind, just like he felt the blame and guilt weighed heavy on his own shoulders for not being there when Syd needed him. The same night, James had been informed of Quinn's murder, along with Warren's serious injuries and hospitalisation. James felt responsibility for all of those under his employment - family or not - so it hit him hard to learn Keegan had lost his brother on the job. Coming so close to losing his own, James felt he had some understanding of how Keegan was feeling. All of this wasn't helped when James called Italy to inform Rayna of Warren's condition. Their mother was upset and worried, but Warren's father was furious and placed the blame for Warren's condition firmly on James. James was certain he should be the most worried about Moretti and the man's threats, but in light of all of the personal stresses, the Italian's clear presence was surprisingly lower down on James' list of present concerns than he knew it should be. Perhaps it was the trust he had in his men; with Conor, Jackson and Peter putting in overtime to keep things under control. Perhaps James was simply admitting to himself that he did have a breaking point and he couldn't focus on the business when his family needed him on a personal level.

This morning was the first time James and Lucy had been allowed to visit Syd at Hudson Psychiatric Hospital. James had spent time in prison and he'd spent time in hospital, but even those two places had a better atmosphere than his present location. The Psychiatric hospital felt cold and had an unnerving aura about it. It was difficult to pinpoint, but there was simply something creepy about the place. Even the hospital Elijah was locked away in back in Dublin hadn't felt as unwelcoming as where Syd was being kept. James and Lucy had to be searched at the reception, to ensure they had no dangerous items on them. It was nothing new to James, more than familiar with such protocols he'd already ensured the staff wouldn't find anything to confiscate from him.

Once they'd been searched and had signed the visitors book, they were told to wait in the seating area before being taken to the visiting room. James' mouth felt dry on account of him skipping breakfast and barely having anything to drink that morning. He walked over to the water cooler and grabbed himself a paper cup. As he waited for it to fill, he rubbed his eyes with his free hand and couldn't help but yawn. In his distracted state, he managed to drop his cup, spilling the water onto the floor. "Fucking stupid..." he grumbled under his breath. The nearby cleaner rushed over to mop up the spill and James grunted something resembling an apology as he made his way back to Lucy's side, no longer bothering to have a drink.

"Jesus, Luce... I just..." he began, sitting next to her. He rested his elbows on his knees and shook his head, clearly exhausted by everything. He wasn't sure what to expect when they saw Syd and his upset was clear to be seen by anyone who cared to look close enough. Aware the eyes of nearby staff were on him, he hid his face behind his hand for a time as he forced himself to gain control over his appearance. He was worried, upset and stressed, but he wasn't allowed to let the world see him that way. He certainly couldn't burden Lucy and Syd with it.

Soon enough, they were called to attend the visiting room. James placed his arm around Lucy's waist, wanting her to know he was right there to support her. It was subtle, but there was a brief moment when James hesitated to step through the door and into the visiting room. When he did enter, he saw Syd seated at the table. His son looked agitated and clearly troubled, but James put on a brave face and sent his son an acknowledging nod. "Morning, mate. Sorry we didn't get here sooner. We had to formulate a cunning plan to break into this place," he remarked, sending him a smile. As he did, he softly rubbed Lucy's back, hoping she was holding up okay.

Bellz (Lucy) Pyroclast (Syd)

 

[Misty Gray]

Conor Sullivan​

"No, Warren wasn't expecting any wankers this morning," Conor mumbled back to Jackson to show he was just as suspicious as him. Soon enough, the bearded man stepped forward and approached them, clearly not about to shake hands or give a friendly hug. Jackson was quick to react and punched Craig, the bearded man, square in the face. The Italian's head jolted to the side, giving Jackson opportunity to push him backwards and against the opposite wall. Craig had reached for his switchblade with the intention of thrusting the knife into Jackson's stomach. He didn't get far with the action as Jackson blocked the attack and pushed into the man as they struggled to gain sole possession over the weapon. Both were strong and focused, meaning Craig struggled to gain full control over the switchblade. Hoping to distract Jackson and make the man flinch, he lunged his head forward as if to headbutt the Irishman so he could throw him off and snatch the knife away from his grip.

All the while, Conor's eyes hadn't left the second Italian. His instinct was to start beating the shit out of the guy there and then, as there was no doubt the Italians were there for Warren. Instead of acting impulsively, Conor looked around the corridor as he tried to figure out the best way to take the men down whilst not getting arrested in the process. It seemed like Jackson had things under control with one of the men, but they still needed to take things out of public view. His eyes fixed on the nearby bathroom which seemed like the best solution he was going to find.

Conor rushed at the second Italian and swiftly used both hands to grab him by the collar, forcefully pushing him backwards towards the intended door. "Toilet break!" Conor told Jackson, hoping his friend would be able to follow him off of the corridor. The bathroom door swung open and Conor used his strength to push the Italian backwards, kicking his leg out to trip the man as he did. He only had a few seconds to check the stalls. All but one of the doors were open, indicating they were empty. Conor ducked down to peer under the door of the closed cubicle but he couldn't see any feet that would suggest the toilet was occupied. To be sure, Conor slammed his foot hard against the door, causing the lock to break and the door to swing open to reveal an empty stall. Despite the lack of "out of order" sign, the toilet bowl was overflowed and clearly faulty. All that Conor needed to know was there were no witnesses or innocent bystanders taking a dump at that time!

Conor flicked his head back around to put his full attention back onto the Italian he'd thrown to the floor...

Enzyme (Jackson, Hitman Fella)

 

[Enzyme]

Jackson McCarthy​

Jackson's force on the blade's hilt was slowly overpowering that of the Italian as he was able to feel the man's wrists begin to buckle. Despite the control turning in his favor, he wouldn't be able to deflect the blade back into the assailant, for he was barely keeping the point of the knife out of his stomach. While the battle for control over the switchblade was subtle, it would no doubt captivate attention soon enough. Jackson's main priority at the moment, however, was to not be stabbed to death by some slime-ball. Conor's direction towards the bathroom briefly caught Jackson's attention, giving his attacker a window to strike. The man took the opportunity, belting his head against the bridge of Jackson's nose. The abrupt hit jarred Jackson, causing him to release most of his force on the weapon. Before the man could stick him with the switchblade, however, Jackson quickly diverted the blade with his hands, causing the blade to swing aimlessly in the air just right of his abdomen.

Jackson ignored the warm flow of blood streaming over his upper lip and slammed his shoulder against his attacker's thorax. The sounds of hushed grunts and sneakers squeaking against the pristine floor were soon muffled as Jackson continued to shove his shoulder into the man's chest, steadily forcing him into the bathroom. Once inside, Jackson could feel the momentum of the blade begin to sway once more as the attacker was attempting another swing. Instead of fighting against him again, Jackson swung with the man with his arms fully extended. The pair glided across the tile floor as if they were performing a routine, sailing across the entire length of the public bathroom.

With the attacker seemingly caught off guard by Jackson's unforeseen counter, he lost control over their direction. Jackson forced the man over to the string of sinks, where the mans hand was pinned against the ceramic bowl. Jackson continuously slammed the man's hand against both the white shell and the metal faucet, attempting to wrestle the blade from his grasp. Anticipating another stab attempt, Jackson forced the hand into the air, blood dripping down both of their sleeves. He then slammed the man's gripped hand against the mirror incessantly, causing the mirror to crack drastically and subsequently slice the assailant's fist open.

The blade was thrown from the man's grasp, causing it to fly across the bathroom and careen under one of the various stalls. Jackson wasted no time in pounding his fist against the man's exposed head with a powerful left hook. His right hand then glided to the man's greasy hair, intertwining his fingers with each individual lock. He propelled the man's bearded face into the cracked mirror, causing the individual shards to shatter on impact and rain glass down into the blood-smeared sink.

Misty Gray (Craig)

******​

The hit had looked fairly simple up until this point. They had managed to slip by all the police officers stationed within the building without arising suspicion, but hadn't anticipated guards directly outside the target's room. Now the only thing standing between their blades and an incapacitated Warren was a wooden door and two Porters. Marty's eyes locked on the bulky Porter who had a clear size and reach advantage. His hands froze by his sides, unsure whether to brandish the knife immediately or keep that card up his sleeve and catch the Porter by surprise. Marty's decision was made for him when the large man barreled towards him. He only had time to grit his teeth before the Porter's powerful grip was on his shirt collar, jerking him around like a steering wheel.

He slapped his hands down on the man's wrists for leverage, but no matter how hard he dug his heels into the floor, he couldn't stop himself from being propelled into the bathroom and separated from his target. As Marty's thought process buffered, his failure to correctly asses the situation led to his legs being kicked out from under him. He saw his feet float above his head while being suspended in the air, before the oxygen was forced from his lungs as his back took the brute impact of the floor.

Dazed and struggling to catch his breath, he let out incoherent whimpers as his eyes aimlessly traced the ceiling. He started rolling helplessly on his shoulder blades to try and alleviate the pressure of his constricted chest. To his relief, he felt the air suck back into his esophagus as his lungs inflate with oxygen once more. Marty let out loud, sputtering coughs as he turned onto his side, his bearings rushing back to him.

His eyes locked back on the Porter as the man snapped his head to him. Marty's face twisted with fury as the gravity of his situation began to set in. Pushing himself off of the tiles, he clambered to his feet. He then slipped his trembling hand into his coat before pulling the switch blade out and flourishing it. “You wanna dance, big guy?” Marty flicked the sharp knife out of its holster, keeping it level with his hip. “Let’s dance.” He then charged towards the large Porter, attempting to ram the blade directly into his rib cage.

Misty Gray (Conor)

 

[Enzyme]

New York Harbor​

Boyd lowered the clipboard as the Porters stepped out of the idling vehicle. They appeared on-guard, with an AR-15 being holstered yet presented. This caused the guards to tense, their relaxed demeanor shifting to a more vigilant tone. He, however, kept his smile, tucking his lips in slightly as he accepted their alert behavior. “Keepin’ it old school, amigo,” he said as he nodded. With tongue in cheek, he kept his eyes on Peter as he stepped back to the deck where a large wooden container lied. The guard closest to the tarp removed it, revealing that the container was filled with cocaine, stacked on each other like layered bricks.

Reaching into the container, he removed a single portion, covered in layered plastic and duct tape. Walking back up to Peter, he held an arrogant smile, each footstep slow and exaggerated. He then stopped before the man, only a metal railing separating the two. Reaching into his white coat, he produced a golden pocket knife. “Tan puro como la sangre de nuestro señor,” he said softly, pushing the bill of his sailor’s hat up with the knife.

The knife glided into the wrapped cocaine, puncturing the layered plastic. Skimming the edge of the plastic, he balanced a small sample of the cocaine on the edge of the knife. “Try for yourself,” he offered. He then licked the tip of his pinkie and dabbed it on the edge of the knife. Picking up grains of coke on his pinkie, he rubbed it on his bottom gums. He then smiled to Peter, spreading it with his tongue. “We’ve got 900 kilos,” he said, motioning his head back to the container. “The rest is still under the deck, but we’ll have to tear into the walls first.” He moved the clipboard from under his shoulder, allowing Peter to read the manifest, detailing the shipping process and the ship’s contents.

A loud bang echoed off the open ocean, causing the flock of nesting seagulls to take off, off the boardwalk in panicked flaps. Boyd crumbled to his knees with a sizable hole in the side of his skull, the contents of his exit wound coating the white deck and the observation window beside him. His body crumbled to the floor, his once bright, blue eyes fell cold and lifeless.

The sound of gunfire was followed by others in quick succession, shattering the window of the yacht and tearing up the wooden boards beyond it.

Observing this from a few feet away, Mitchel was quick to spring into action after the first couple of shots. He immediately shifted the car into drive and slammed his foot on the gas, propelling the vehicle like a slingshot. The car t-boned the side of the boat, its front tires spinning aimlessly over the water. There was now a vehicle in between the gun fire and the bewildered Porters, but the car was far from bulletproof. Mitchel shoved his head under the steering wheel as glass and metal was blown to pieces around him

Bellz (Peter/Rebel) Misty Gray (Adam)

********​

Kaladin nodded his head sharply at Tony’s words. Not only was the man his superior, but he was right - Kaladin needed to collect himself. The stress was eating away at his subconscious and the supposedly calming cigarettes had left him with a sickening side effect. He gripped the steel barrel of the SKS, attempting to lower his temperature the best he could.

He focused on the Porters through the fogged up glass, studying their mannerisms. While only a good 15 yards away, he felt as if they were in a completely different dimension. While he had never had an encounter with the mob, he’d heard stories. He knew they were calculated, entitled, and above all else - brutal. To say he was nervous was an understatement and with the moments of safety fleeting, he wanted to push himself out of the melting van and kick things off.

As the guards removed the tarp on the yacht, he could see the tops of plastic wrapped bricks just above the lining of the crate. His finger itched the trigger, tucking the firearm just under the glove compartment. “C’mon…” He muttered, the rifle lightly bouncing on his lap.

There it was, a brick of cocaine in the Columbian’s hands. With the product being represented, Kaladin felt it was enough. While there was no money visible, he wanted any excuse to end the burning anxiety. Pressing his shoulder to the van door, he began to get out, ignoring any protesting that may have been potentially shouted his way.

As he opened the heavy door, the sounds of the docks flooded in to the small container, along with the refreshing, salty air. He used the side of the door as leverage for his rifle, pressing the stock up to his shoulder. He fixed his sight on the Colombian’s head, settling his finger on the trigger. This was it. There was no going back. He removed the slack of the trigger by slowly pulling it back, until he was met with resistance - the last line of defense. With the holding of his breath, he pulled.

RayPurchase (Tony) Pyroclast (Steve)

 

[Bellz]

Gwen Bryant ​

Gwen was reassured by Sinead's response and smile softly as she said that redhead's would take over the world. Scott the bar manager mentioned something about being doomed and Gwen let out a laugh as Sinead joked about firing him. Gwen looked towards the doors, wondering when Jason was going to walk through them and just as she started to worry, she saw him smiling at her from across the room.

"Thank you, Sin. I should be ready in just a few moments." Gwen murmured as Jason made his way to them before giving her a kiss on the cheek, "Hey." She murmured to him, her smile widening as he turned to Sinead and introduced himself. "I'll make sure he doesn't get into to much trouble here." Gwen teased as she poked Jason's stomach teasingly. Turning to look at the stage, the band looked like they were ready to start playing and Gwen turned back to Jason and Sinead.

Jason seemed to do the same thing before he slide his arm around her waist. "Oh no, you haven't missed anything, I was just letting the band get together for a warm up before I go up there a give it my all." She murmured softly before leaning in to give him a kiss. "I think its time for me to get up there and show Sinead that I'm serious about this position hmmm?" She asked before nodding her head towards Sinead. "I've got a set of songs set up but I think I'll just do one for now. If you want me to sing the others afterwards then I am more than happy to do so." She said before giving Jason a tight squeeze and letting him go.

Walking towards the stage, Gwen began to feel the familiar tingling that she would get right before performing on stage. It was similar to the high that she tried to duplicate with the drugs but with this feeling, it was easier to breathe, easier to think. Each step she took towards the stage felt like she was floating and before she knew it, she was in front of the microphone. Looking at the empty club before her, Gwen was thankful that it was the slower part of the day. It had been a long time since she'd performed like this...

Looking behind her, Gwen made eye contact with the band before nodding her head. They knew the first song already so it was no surprise to her when the band started up in full swing. Gwen turned back to the microphone and looked across the room at the bar where Sinead and Jason were. Her heart pounded almost painfully in her chest and after a moment of hesitation, she began to sing her voice strong despite the sudden stage fright she was feeling.

Time seemed to move slowly as she sang La vie en rose having practiced it over and over again to get the french language down and it seemed to have paid off. When the song came to a close, Gwen was left a little breathless and she had to turn away from the microphone as she inhaled deep breaths. She felt dizzy but when she turned back to the club the world seemed to flip as she saw two familiar men walk through the door, the same men that had left her bleeding on the ground in the alleyway by the theater. Eyes widening, Gwen stayed frozen where she was as the men looked around.
with: Sinead Misty Gray ; Jason Pyroclast

 

[Bellz]

Stefano Carriveau​

Stefano had been busy taking over the smaller territories over the last couple of weeks along with trying to patch things up with his daughter. While he was succeeding in one area, he was careful to admit that when it came to his own family that area was foreign to him. Meeting with Alistair and Gabriel was entertaining enough however and he was sure that his part in the grand scheme of things was helping them succeed in making sure that the Porters were terminated. Taking a seat beside Alistair, Stefano took his cup of black coffee and raised it to his lips as he listened to what was on the agenda for the day.

Maddox would have more information on Syd Porter's situation but Stefano had already gotten a taste on what had happened from Roxie, who had fled to his home the night that Syd turned up missing. Hearing that Friday's delivery had not gone as planned wasn't surprising. The Porter's were fighting back, as expected and Stefano knew that they would win some and then they would lose some. Hearing that James' brother was in the hospital but a smile on Stefano's face, now they were getting somewhere. With his brother and son in hospitals, it was hard to imagine that James was in a good headspace with himself at the moment. They had to take him down while he was barely standing, crush him under the weight of his own pressures...

Alistair's information intrigued Stefano but he stayed silent until he brought up concern about his crew. Leaning forward, Stefano offered a smile before taking another sip of his coffee. "You are right, my friend. We need more people we can rely on, people we can trust. Which leads me into telling you about what I've been up to." Setting his cup of coffee down on the table in front of him, Stefano place his hands together in front of him as he looked around at each of the men. "I've been doing a little recruiting for our cause. Some of the weakest territories in New York are now under my own territory and it has been established that many of the smaller gangs are pretty upset with the Porter's as well and for a small amount of payment or trade, they are willing to issue man power towards are cause."

Leaning back now, Stefano turned to look out one of the window's before continuing on, "As for my daughter, she keeps running back to me for help and I'm trying to supply as much support as I can. She was a mess after hearing about what happened to Syd and she actually stayed a few days with my wife and I...but its clear that he made it out of the situation alive, which I believe is a problem still."
with: Misty Gray ; Pyroclast ; Melanin-Gxdess

 

[Misty Gray]

Savannah Callahan​

Savannah had blushed a little when her aunt referred to her as her favourite niece. Whilst she didn't think Aliana would say such a thing if she didn't mean it, the blonde still wondered what she'd done to claim such a status, given how Emery was more outgoing and open with others than she was. The younger woman followed Aliana into the jazz club and looked ahead to see her mother with the others by the bar. "Let's sit here," she suggested, pointing to a booth near the entrance and out of Sinead's earshot or view.

The blonde laughed when she was told the boys were driving the older woman crazy. "Well, I'm not one bit surprised about that. Uncle Conor is such a big wind-up and Leo is a cheeky little fella," she lightly concluded. "But you're happy, right? I think Conor cares so much about you and he always means well, even if he does go about it all wrong," she teased. Her face dropped, however, as it became apparent to her that she was wishing to have some of the very attributes she was mocking her uncle for. In Conor's case, she wished to have just an ounce of the physical strength he had.

"I wanted to talk to you about something that I know I should be telling my parents first, but they're just so busy and troubled already, I don't want to burden them further. Plus, I know Mum would only want to talk me out of it. Or I could ask Uncle Conor and he know he wouldn't hesitate to fix my problem, but I don't want him to get into trouble and I want to fight my own battles..." She let out a sigh. "Ever since I was abducted from the theatre, I've been scared. Scared to go outside and live my life, out of fear he'll find me again. He did find me again last week and all I could do was stand there crying, not even able to move or try to fight." She took a deep breath to contain her emotions and remained silent until she was able to get more words out. "Grandma Shannon told me I need to start sticking up for myself. I do want to learn how to defend myself - to fight back. Hell, I want to learn how to use a gun. Anything to know I can look after myself, stop being a victim, and feel safe enough to live the life I've always dreamed of."

"I want to ask my dad to train me, but I'm worried he'll refuse or get stressed knowing that man is still around. I know this probably sounds dumb, but I was hoping you'd understand and would maybe back me up on this if my parents did say no?" Savannah ran her hands through her long blonde hair and looked away for a time before eventually looking back to Aliana. "You've managed to survive being a part of this family for so long and you've been through so much. How do you stay strong?" she asked.


Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)

 

[Pyroclast]

Steve Kelly

After the unexpected ambush on Friday, Steve was more determined than ever to stay on top of the fight. More afraid of not living than he was dying, he could think of much worse ways to go than in a gunfight. There was dignity in it, at least - action, passion and purpose. So, he threw himself at every job Alistair assigned him to. Now that he had spent several long, uncomfortable hours crammed into the back of a sweltering van, however, he was beginning to question his life choices.

It wasn't the lack of air circulation, the heat or the inability to stretch, but the silence that got to Steve the most. Aiming to keep a low profile, the squad had decided to keep conversation to a minimum and, with the van's conditions affecting everyone's mood, that had quickly lead to no conversation at all. It was perhaps the greatest test of Steve's patience that he had ever had to endure. However, like all the others, he eventually fell asleep.

When the resounding horns of incoming cargo ships jolted everyone out of their slumber, Steve found himself slumped against Tony's shoulder and immediately leaned away from him, hoping that he wouldn't have noticed. "What do you see, Kal?" he asked, reaching round to catch the sweat dripping down his neck. As soon as the young man in the passenger seat spoke up in an excited tone, Steve grabbed the M16 rifle resting between his legs and sprung forward, ready for the van doors to open so that they could finally get the fight started. Tony cut him off, however, denying the men their long-anticipated escape from the airless vehicle. Steve let out an impatient groan before pointing his rifle at Tony and pretending to shoot at him out of spite.

At first, Steve hadn't respected Tony's domineering nature - despite the affiliation between the Morettis and East Harlem, it seemed bold of him to assume a position of command in a gang to which he didn't officially belong. Nevertheless, Steve found himself following his words. When the man turned to him and squeezed his shoulder, Steve put his head down. He hadn't let Friday's fatal ambush get to him, but in that moment he realised that the two of them had been through something together. No matter whether he was a member of the East Harlem gang or a Moretti, Steve had developed a level of trust in the man as a result. "Fuck that," he replied, looking up to Tony with a crooked grin. "I'll get ya' a fuckin' head."

The air in the van was thick as smoke and Steve coughed into his fist before banging it against the partition. "Kaladin, come on, give us something!" he begged, desperate for their exit cue. But in the end, there was no verbal cue from Kaladin; without warning, the young man opened the door and got out, prompting Steve to jump to his feet. "If he's out, I'm out," he announced, grabbing the M16 and kicking open the back door of the van.

A wave of fresh air filled Steve's lungs and he moaned in relief, taking a second to open his arms and let the cool sea breeze bring his temperature down. His attention was soon grabbed by the ear-splitting sound of gunfire and he spun round in time to watch the drug supplier fall to the floor in a heap, revealing a horrific splatter of blood on the yacht behind him. Peering from behind the door of the van, Steve let out a laugh and bounded over to Kaladin, quick to position his rifle against the hood of the van. Tyres screeched as the Porters' car was launched forward to get in the way of the incoming bullets, but Steve only saw it as a first obstacle and didn't waste time in opening fire upon the car. The driver was already out of sight, but Steve knew that he was still inside the vehicle and refused to allow him any chance to escape.

Interactions
RayPurchase Tony
Bellz Peter, Rebel
Misty Gray Adam
Enzyme Kaladin

 

[Bellz]

Lucy Porter ​

Waiting was a painful experience and the four days that Lucy hadn't seen her son were excruciating. Every fiber in her being want to have him home, she felt horrible that he had to be in the psychiatric hospital. Lucy had heard the stories from Sinead about places like that and she worried that Syd was not getting the right type of care but what could she do differently? So far everything she had done has ruined Syd and she felt helpless at this point. Sleep was non existent in the days that past as Lucy not only dealt with her own worries but James' as well. She was worried about her husband's well being as he dealt with his brother being in the hospital and Warren's father blaming James for what had happened. Not to mention their tormenters had finally revealed themselves and were adamant about ending the Porter's business in New York, she worried this was becoming too much for him to handle and she was left wondering just how much more he would be able to take.

After being searched at reception and signed in, they were allowed to sit down in the waiting area which only made Lucy restless as she bounced her right leg up and down, her heel clicking against the tile with each movement. James' moved to get a drink of water and Lucy watched him as he filled the cup, proceeded to yawn and then drop the cup on the ground. Lucy gave him a sympathetic look as he returned to her side. Lifting a hand, she placed it on his back and rubbed it gently. "I know." She murmured softly, not knowing what more to say to him in that moment as he struggled with words. The best she could do was to let him know that she knew how he was feeling.

He seemed almost embarrassed as he hid his face behind his hand and Lucy's brows furrowed together as she moved to meet the eyes that were so openly watching them. Giving them a stern look, she turned back to James a moment later, rubbing her hand on his back once more. Before she could say much more to him, they were called into the visiting room and Lucy practically sprung out of her seat. James placed his arm around her waist and Lucy let out a small sigh, looking at him with a worried expression as they stepped through the door into the visiting room.

Lucy had hoped that this place had done something to soothe her son's troubles but as she took in Syd's appearance, she saw nothing more than agitation, his eyes looking around the room wildly until they fell upon the pair walking towards him. Lucy smiled as bright as she could at her son as they took a seat at the table across from him. James' hand rubbed her back and Lucy felt comforted by him enough to where she felt she wouldn't break down in tears, though her eyes burned slightly.

"This place is...something else." Lucy commented dryly before tilting her head at Syd and reaching her hand over, palm open for him to take it. "We've missed you so much, Syd." She said, her voice dipping to almost a whisper as emotions over came her. Lucy felt that this place was the only hope Syd had to get better, but just by looking at him, she wasn't so sure anymore. "Your aunt was in one of these places before...and it troubles me to think that we made the wrong decision in sending you here." She admitted, "How are they treating you?" She asked, her eyes wide as she looked to Syd taking in his whole appearance again and coming to the conclusion herself that he wasn't being treated well, but she wanted to hear it from him.
with: James Misty Gray ; Syd Pyroclast

 

[Misty Gray]

Conor Sullivan​

Conor maintained his stare as Marty locked eyes with his. Whilst remaining aware of the man's movements to get back onto his feet, the Sullivan man took a moment to scan the bathroom to take in the objects around them. The nearby metal rectangular trashcan. The hard, ceramic sinks. Even the cubicle doors themselves. Anything could prove useful or on the flip-side, dangerous, in this kind of situation. Whilst there remained some impulsive aspects of his nature, Conor had learned to be more sensible and resourceful during in time in prison. The blokes there fought dirty and even if he had the upper hand, he knew he had to restrain himself even then. A dead body would have been much easier to trace back to him in prison. Even now he was on the outside, he found himself inclined to use his head and not just his strength in the present fight. "Fucking 'ell, Dr. Parker..." he bitterly thought to himself, remembering the counsellor had been part of the reason he'd reined in his aggressive behaviour.

"With you, I'd love to dance," he told the Italian and flashed a wink. Conor noticed the knife as it was brought into view. The man charged at Conor, giving the big buy little time to dodge the attack completely. The blade tore through the sleeve of Conor's coat and lodge into the flesh of his muscular bicep. The Irishman let out a groan that was soon replaced by the words "fucking dirty prick!" He grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it, forcing him to let go of the knife if he hadn't already. Still tightly gripping Marty's wrist, he slammed his free fist heavily into the man's gut. The action of punching with the hand of his stabbed arm caused Conor to hiss at the burning pain. He let go on Marty's wrist and pushed the man back against the wall to buy him a few seconds. In that time, Conor reached for the handle of the switchblade and quickly yanked it out of his arm, slotting the weapon in the gap between his belt and trouser waistband. He could feel the blood soaking the material of his shirt and coat, but it wasn't a concern in that moment.

Conor rushed towards Marty and threw a right hook into the man's left cheekbone. He then used the same hand to grab Marty by the likely throbbing side of his face and hit the right side of the Italian's head against the hand dryer. The action caused the appliance to kick in, filling the room with the background noise of the warm air blowing out towards the floor. The humming sound was accompanied by the thudding and smashing sounds which Conor saw from the corner of his eye were caused by Jackson smacking Craig's face into the mirror.

"Pretty fucking cowardly trying to off a guy in his hospital bed," Conor gruffly told Marty.

Enzyme (Marty)

***************​

Managing to headbutt Jackson had resulted in Craig letting out a brief, amused chuckle. His amusement was only dampened by the fact Jackson was still able to deflect his attempt to plunge the blade into the man's torso. Before he had chance to process the bleeding from Jackson's lip, Craig was winded by the the Irishman's shoulder slamming into his sternum. Soon enough, he found himself being pushed into the bathroom where he caught a brief glimpse of Marty fighting with the second Irishman. Still holding the knife, Marty decided to give it another try at stabbing Jackson in the abdomen. Jackson was able to detect his intention and soon enough had directed him towards the sinks. The Irishman had pinned his hand against one of the sink bowls. Craig let out pained grunts as his hand was repeatedly smacked against the sink and metal taps.

Despite the painful blows, Craig maintained his hold over the weapon until finally his fist was smacked against the mirror. The glass cracked on impact, the sharp edges ripping through his skin and immediately drawing out a rapid flow of blood from his fist. "Fucking rat bastard!" the man bitterly shouted. He lost control of the blade and it was sent flying across the room. Before he could make the next move, Craig's head was jolted to the side as Jackson's fist smashed against the side of his head. The Italian doubled over but his head was lifted back up as Jackson grabbed him by the hair and smashed his face against the cracked mirror, causing it to shatter and pieces of glass fall down into the sink, cutting Craig's cheek in the process.

Craig fumbled around before grasping a large shard of glass from inside the sink and soon lashed out towards towards Jackson's forearm, attempting to slash at the hand that was grabbing him by the hair. He then lifted his knee, attempting to kick into the top of Jackson's legs to knock him back. He then swung his arm out again, attempting to slash the glass across Jackson's collarbone...


Enzyme (Jackson)

 

[Misty Gray]

Maddox Parker
~ Hudson Psychiatric Hospital ~​

Maddox had sat at a table in the staff room of the hospital as he wrote up the notes following the session he'd just had with Julia Walker. It had been over two months since he'd made the decision to have her committed to the psychiatric hospital and she hadn't made any improvements since. If anything, her schizophrenia had become more severe over the last few weeks and it only cemented Dr. Parker's dislike for the hospitals. To him, they were a last resort and a confirmation of failure on his part. As he signed the bottom of his report, he bitterly chewed on his bottom lip, as if he'd just admitted defeat.

"Some patients simply can't be helped," the male nurse commented as he entered the room to grab a quick glass of water. "You could be the best doctor in the country and you wouldn't be able to help them all. Ms. Walker is violent, completely unhinged, and won't ever be getting out of this place. Some of them are just built that way. You shrinks are wasting your time with the likes of her."

Maddox shot the nurse a glare and shook his head in disbelief. "Everyone deserves a chance. Thankfully for these poor people who are in your care, us shrinks are willing to give them the benefit of the doubt and show them the respect any human deserves." The nurse didn't respond and instead shook his head before leaving the room.

Maddox hadn't had time to recover from one report when another landed on the table in front of him, placed there from his colleague, Dr. Henderson. "My observations of Mr. Porter back up the staff here and seem consistent with your reports," Henderson told him as he took a seat opposite. "It's just a disappointing shame Laura lost the original request to increase his medication."

Maddox opened Syd's file and read the assessment his colleague had confirmed. The words 'delusional' and 'paranoid' jumped off the page as Maddox read the notes. They were words the man had just used to describe Julia Walker's ongoing state. She was clearly delusional and paranoid, with her mental state in the more severe stages of schizophrenia. Syd was not, at least he wasn't in the moments leading up to Maddox pushing him over the edge. To put Syd somewhere in the same field of Julia seemed completely irrational to Maddox, but such a diagnosis was what he'd intended on, after all. Whilst he considered Julia's state a failure on his own record, the fate of Syd was nothing less than a colossal disaster and a terrible conscious wrongdoing. Yet, he was forced to nod his head as he read through his colleague's assessment. To contradict it and question Syd's presence in the psychiatric hospital would risk the wrath of Moretti. It would furthermore risk Maddox finally having the satisfaction of watching James Porter break.

********​

Maddox made his way out of the staff room and stopped near to the reception desk as he watched James and Lucy Porter in the distance. He remained in the background as he struggled to process how he felt about being so close to the man who had ruined his life all of those years ago. The same man who had been responsible for the deaths of his family members and many more of Gabriel's loved ones. Maddox gripped onto the handle of his briefcase as he observed the couple in the distance who were no doubt present to visit Syd. He hoped they were in ruins and that James was about to break. To witness such a spectacle practically made his head spin as his heart raced in his chest. Remaining out of sight or at least unknown to the couple, he approached the reception desk as they moved to sit in the waiting room. As he made it seem as if he was reading through some paperwork on the counter, his attention was discreetly focused on the Porters.

James had walked to the water cooler, resembling something of a zombie or at least a man whose mind was so clouded with concern that he couldn't function adequately enough to even pour himself a cup of water. The fact he spilled the drink on the floor evoked no emotion from Maddox, not even amusement or mocking judgement. Instead, he continued to keep the attention drawn away from himself as he observed the couple. They were clearly distressed and deeply affected by Syd;s attempted suicide. Despite James' usual ability to hide his feelings from sight and despite the hands that briefly covered his face, Maddox could see the man he despised so much was upset. That kind of worry and distress was impossible to hide, especially from a man who spent his working life helping people through their traumas. The Porters were clearly suffering. To Maddox, it looked as if James Porter was breaking and so close to crumbling onto his knees. The sight before Maddox's eyes was the closest he'd ever been to feeling some kind of justice for having to bury his father and uncles back in Dublin. This was what he'd been working towards for so long.

As the Porters were taken to the visiting room, Maddox looked down to his trembling hand. He felt nothing. There was no satisfaction, no joy and no pride. Just like the day he'd pushed Syd, he was left feeling numb. He turned to the reception desk and signed himself out of the visitors book before leaving the hospital.

By the time Maddox was in the privacy of his vehicle, his mind had managed to process the scene that he'd witnessed. He did feel something but it wasn't joy. He only felt sadness and guilt after seeing the Porters in their state. It only brought back memories of having to identify the dead bodies of his loved ones. Not only that, but having to break the news to his sister and watching her heart break before his eyes. He had wished exactly that kind of pain on his enemies, yet seeing just a glimpse of it gave him no relief. If he couldn't find closure in seeing James Porter suffer, then how could he ever?

Maddox looked at his watch and slumped back in the driver's seat with frustration. He knew he would have to start the car soon so as not to be late for his meeting with Moretti and the others. There wasn't time to mull over his own concerns and he knew he had to get his head into the appropriate zone before even considering stepping foot in Moretti's apartment.

Mentions: Pyroclast (Syd) Bellz (Lucy)

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

Having got so worked up about being visited by Maddox, Syd froze when his parents appeared in the doorway. They looked different, somehow - burdened and weary, like they had been overworked or not slept well. James greeted him from across the room and sent him a smile, but Syd only stared back at him in disbelief. All thoughts of his counsellor immediately fell away, but the anxiety and tension that inhabited his body still lingered and he held himself guardedly as he watched his parents approach.

"Dad?" he quietly uttered, part of him worried that they weren't really there. "Mam?" Syd looked to the nurse for reassurance and the young man nodded to him. Once the three were all seated at the table together, the nurse left them to it and went to stand by the opposite wall, surveying the room for any disturbances among the patients and their visitors. His parents wore smiles that Syd wasn't sure how to interpret, but his disbelief at their unexpected visit was gradually turning into one of relief. Even if their smiles were forced, he was still glad to see them. To know that, after all of Maddox's threats, they were still alive. Lucy offered him her hand and he reached over to take it as a matter of course. For days, the only touch that he had received was for the purposes of being restrained - the unsettling hand of a doctor or nurse on his shoulder, or the burning grip of the security guards that more often than not was a sign that he was about to be sedated. His mother's hand was welcoming in comparison, offering him comfort that he hadn't felt in what seemed like forever.

Still in slight shock, Syd let her talk for a while before she asked him how he was being treated. "Oh...good," he answered, his distant voice suggesting that he hadn't given his answer any thought. He shifted in his seat, struggling to think of what to tell them. Lucy's doubt about sending him to the hospital at least confirmed that the doctor was right about how he had ended up there, that they hadn't just been lying to him. "You sent me here," he nodded, gazing vacantly at the space on the table beside their hands. "I'm sorry I ended up..." He trailed off as he raised his head to look his parents in the eyes and promptly forgot to end his sentence. A distant yet warm smile developed in his features, taking comfort in their presence after what felt like weeks of being apart. "I'll be home soon, don't worry," he assured them, squeezing his mother's hand. "I'm on a lot of new meds now, and my doctor said they're going to give me some kind of electrocution therapy, too. I don't know - apparently it works. But then I can come home to help you out, I promise. Must have done at least half of my time here by now."

One of the other patients suddenly let out a loud wail and tipped his chair over, causing Syd to lose track of the conversation. His attention was diverted to the patient as nurses and guards rushed over to lead him out of the room. Usually it would have made him uncomfortable to watch somebody have such a meltdown, but he saw it happen on a daily basis now and had grown used to it. Once the noise level had returned to normal, Syd exhaled and studied his parents' faces. "So how are you both doing? How's business? How's everyone..." As the thought of his family's well-being came to mind, so did Maddox's threats. All too suddenly, the last ounce of colour drained from his face, leaving behind a greenish tint. He pulled his hand away from Lucy's, instead raking them through his hair as he drew a deep, shaky breath. In a moment of fear and doubt, he looked desperately over to the nurse that had assured him that his parents were in fact there and not just a hopeful hallucination. His concept of time had been skewed since his arrival at the hospital and it struck him as unlikely that Maddox Parker would have waited over a week to kill his loved ones.

"What's he done?" he asked them in a hushed tone, tears in his eyes. "What did he do to you? Is - is everyone okay? Thomas? Roxie? All the kids, are they - are they safe?"

Interactions
Misty Gray James
Bellz Lucy

 

[Misty Gray]

James Porter​

James looked around as Lucy made her comment about the place. He'd visited Elijah many times in the hospital his brother had been incarcerated in. Though that place was for dangerous criminals, it didn't make the one Syd was in feel any less unpleasant. It wasn't even the first time they'd had to visit Syd in a psychiatric hospital, but it wasn't exactly something any of them could just get used to. When Lucy mentioned Sinead's thoughts on those places and questioned their decision, James let out a sigh. "Mate, we had to do what we thought was best for you. We just wanted to make sure you got the best help so you'd be able to come home to us and feeling better."

Syd seemed distant and confused, almost as if he didn't believe his parents were really sitting in front of him. "Yes, you will be home soon," James backed up his son's words, briefly glancing down to see Syd holding Lucy's hand. He was relieved to see his son acknowledge Lucy's gesture. James didn't like the sound of the electrocution therapy and was about to vocalise his distaste, but he held his tongue as he didn't want to concern Syd further than he already was. Perhaps it was something James would have to discuss with those in charge at the hospital. "Yeah, we need you to come home and give us a hand. Thomas is missing his big brother."

James briefly observed the commotion caused by another patient, but he'd expected such sights when he'd entered the place. He forced his attention back to Syd and nodded as the younger man asked about them. "I'm fine," he assured him. "Obviously, I've been worried about you, but I'm fine. Business is busy, so I've been keeping up with all that, but you're my top priority," he told him. He wasn't sure if he should mention Warren. Maybe it would be better to mention something, so as not to let Syd think they were keeping things from him. He decided it wouldn't hurt to tell him something, if only because it might give Syd some normality as things were rarely perfect lately. "Warren got himself shot while out on a job, but he's doing alright. He'll be back home in no time," he admitted. Probably best to keep the details to himself and not mention Quinn's death, for now.

Syd soon started asking hushed questions as tears formed in his eyes. James folded his arms on the table and studied his son's concerned expression. "Thomas and Roxie are good, they're just worried about you. They want to see you, as does Conor. All of the kids are safe..." Syd asked what 'he'd' done to them, but the question threw James for a moment. "He hasn't done anything, Syd. I'll deal with Moretti," he assured him. As soon as he spoke the words, James turned to Lucy. Being that Syd hadn't had any visitors yet, how would he even know about Moretti? James wondered if that was who Syd had been referring to at all...


Bellz (Lucy) Pyroclast (Syd)

 

[RayPurchase]

Tony Harris

​

The single solitary gunshot rang out, even from within the confines of the truck it was loud, reverberating in the confined space. This was it, they were live. Tony clambered out of the rear doors of the truck after Steve, the dank humidity they had been suffering in silence was replaced by the cool sea breeze. He jumped out, standing by the entrance as the mixture of Moretti and East Harlem men leapt out wielding an assortment of rifles.

“Fan out and start layin’ down fire on their position. Get in cover and keep them pinned down,”

He yelled above the gunfire as it opened up. Keeping low and with the butt of his rifle pressed into his shoulder. Sprinting forwards he swung into cover behind a shipping container. This was their time, their offensive. Right now they had the element of surprise and they had to make sure that it was maintained. Tony and Steve had been lucky to escape with their lives from the ambush, and even then they had lost the drugs and 50% of the team. If it had been Tony doing the ambushing he would have considered that a failure. You drop the ball and find yourself wandering into an ambush, chances are no matter what your training none of you are walking out alive. They’d made a mistake letting him and Steve get out of there. And he was damn well sure that it was a mistake he was going to make the Porter’s regret. If you come gunning after Tony Harris you’d better put him down first time. People don’t get a second chance. He dipped out from behind cover. Unlike some of the rifles being wielded by his comrades the L1A1 he had was a semi automatic. Fully automatic sounded cool, and was quite handy in a tight spot. But he’d gone for range and accuracy above anything else. Lining up his eye down the length of the gun, he squinted, the iron sights bisecting the yacht. It appeared that a good deal of damage had already been done, the pristine paintwork smeared with the blood and brain matter of the Drug Trafficker. Matching Steve’s target he began to open fire on the car that had been set up as some hastily improvised cover for the Porters. Dropping down onto one knee, he kept up a steady and rhythmic stream of fire. At the worse it would keep their heads down and let the others begin to surround the boat, if he was lucky he could clip the driver. He was in his element once more. The pubs and the bright lights were just there as a distraction, the trappings of comfort and civilization. Here amongst the smoke, screams and gunfire he was at home.

"That's it boys. Let them know who runs this fuckin' city!

(Interaction: Pyroclast Steve, Bellz Peter, Rebel Misty Gray Adam, Enzyme Kaladin

 

[Misty Gray]

Sinead Callahan​

Sinead took a slight step back and couldn't help the schoolgirl kind of grin that showed itself on her face as she watched the newcomer, Jason, kiss Gwen's cheek. She hadn't heard anything about Gwen's apparent boyfriend and now found herself wondering if the family's present stresses were the reason she'd managed to miss such gossip from Lucy. Sinead accepted the man's handshake and quickly nodded her head when he asked if she was the club's owner. When he went on to say All That Jazz was his favourite place in the world, she placed her free hand to her chest whilst her cheeks visibly blushed. "Oh, Jason. You are too kind. Are you trying to score free drinks?" she joked with him. Mutually breaking from the handshake, she briefly placed a hand on Jason's right arm and her other hand on Gwen's left arm as she looked the pair over. "You two look so cute together," she happily concluded.

Sinead soon pulled her arms back towards herself and clasped her own hands together as she observed the pair briefly talking. "You are right on time, Jason," Sinead echoed Gwen's words. "Okay, honey," she agreed as Gwen suggested performing just one of the songs from her set. "But if I'm enjoying myself too much, you might find I want to hear the whole lot," she told her. It would probably come off as a joke and Sinead was sure that was how she'd intended it, but at the same time, if she liked something why wouldn't she asked for more when she could? "You go have fun up there," she encouraged Gwen, letting the woman walk away to get on stage.

"Come sit with me," Sinead suggested to Jason. With the audition being business, she didn't wait for him to agree or refuse, instead making her way straight to one of the round tables that had optimal view of the stage. Sitting in her seat, Sinead's thoughts of romantic gossip were pushed aside and her attention was soon fully focused on watching Gwen's performance. The club owner couldn't help but smile to herself as she listened to the beautiful, love song being perfectly performed. When the song came to an end, Sinead excitedly clapped her hands together. The last thing she'd wanted was for Gwen's performance to be unimpressive, as she'd been dreading the kind of awkwardness that would come from letting down family. Thankfully, that outcome wasn't going to happen at all as Sinead was more than happy with what she'd seen and heard.

"Gwen!" she energetically called out as she stood up. Sinead was distracted from giving her evaluation when she noticed the woman stood wide-eyed and frozen on the stage. "Gwen, honey. You don't need to look so nervous. That was amazing!" she encouraged her. She briefly looked over her shoulder to see two men had entered the club. She turned back to Gwen with a puzzled expression. "The audience will be much, much bigger in the evenings..." she reminded her, though there were alarm bells signalling in her head. Sinead found herself instinctively moving her hand to her thigh, feeling the handgun that was strapped to her leg underneath her dress. She'd always hated being armed, but given the recent troubles her family had been having, she found it difficult to argue with Peter and the others when they'd demanded she carried a weapon when out in public.


Bellz (Gwen) Pyroclast (Jason)

 

[Misty Gray]

Gabriel Moretti and Maddox Parker​

Gabriel nodded his head when Alistair pointed out that Tony and Steve had proved themselves during the ambush. He didn't need to be told the Cockney man was an asset to their operation, being that he'd been fighting with the Morettis since back in Miami. Steve was a recent name to start cropping up into their conversations and from what Gabriel had heard so far, he too was a man they knew could be relied on to carry out their plans. "The three of us together are this city's only opportunity to rid the streets of the Irish vermin." Alistair mentioned the strain James should be feeling and Gabriel slowly nodded his head as he pondered the situation. "We will get confirmation from Maddox, but now seems like the best time to strike. When I met Mr. Porter and Mr. Callahan, I easily got a rise out of them. Before James' son had even made the suicide attempt, all I had to do was remind him Syd was a disaster who failed to helped his mother and aunt when they encountered you," he said, pointing to Alistair. "We will take advantage of their weakness and we will attack. I gave them one chance to do this the civilised way, but James Porter chose to let things get messy. By the time we're finished, I want him to be crawling on my doorstep begging for me to relieve him of whatever remains of his empire."

Gabriel listened on as he was reminded of how many of the East Harlem crew had been lost recently. They had been soldiers and expected casualties in the war - Luke Holland having literally been a soldier recruited by Maddox. Still, Gabriel understood that Alistair was concerned that it was men from his own group who had been lost and it was to be expected he would be concerned by that. "I agree with you. A man as committed as Holland wouldn't simply disappear if he had any choice in the matter," he agreed, feeling little doubt Luke was by now dead. Gabriel then moved his attention to Stefano, keen to hear the updates the man had for them. Still gaining his footing within the intricacies of the city, it was good that Stefano and Alistair were able to to pinpoint the small gangs who they could bring over to their cause. He was pleased to hear Stefano had been recruiting some of those territories to their side. "Excellent, Stefano. Those gangs will be more valuable to us than they look. Not only strength in numbers, but more eyes and ears in the heart of the city." Not to mention, men who would be more disposable on the front lines than their own. "I have selected some more of my men to join us here from Miami, given that things are firmly and undoubtedly under control back there. I also have associates in other states who would be willing to assist for the correct price."

There was mention of Maddox's relationship with Ani and how the woman's attitude towards her work had declined. This wasn't exactly news to Gabriel as he'd recently had the same concerns about Maddox, yet the counsellor had continued to deliver and had followed through with the plans to break Syd. "Admittedly, I entertained similar concerns myself and I concluded Maddox does have something to lose. So I used that in my favour and told him Ani would suffer if he failed to deliver. Whether through my warning or purely his own desire, Maddox did us proud and now Syd Porter is in the nuthouse." Moretti sat forward and looked Alistair in the eyes. "I suggest you show Ani what she has to lose and motivate her through her brother's suffering. That way, you kill two birds with one stone; get that little psychopath back under control and remind Ani of her duties." He then sat back. "Still, I would like for you to raise your concerns with Maddox when he gets here. Remind him of how many of us would be left disappointed should he or Ani fail."

With Stefano's update on his relationship with his daughter, it became apparent that Syd's admittance to the psychiatric hospital wasn't enough. The man wanted Syd dead and completely out of Roxie's life. Gabriel rubbed his chin as he pondered the situation and eventually nodded his head in agreement. "We will remind Maddox that his work on Syd is not yet complete--" The conversation was brought to an abrupt stop when the guards opened the main door to grant Maddox entry to the apartment. Gabriel looked ahead to the counsellor and nodded for him to join them in the seating area. He motioned for Maddox to sit in the armchair to his left, ensuring all four men already seated would be able to see the counsellor during the meeting. After a brief introduction, Gabriel asked Maddox to update them on Syd.

The journey had allowed Maddox to get his head together so he could maintain the cold confidence the other men were used to seeing from him. The counsellor had entered with confidence and given each of the men firm, assertive handshakes before sitting back in his seat. There were doubts in the man's mind and a sense of apprehension about what he'd done to Syd, but he was well-practised in wearing a mask so convincing to hide any uncertainties from his face. As he explained what had happened four days ago and how he'd pushed Syd to attempting suicide, Maddox soon found his update reaching his visit to the psychiatric hospital earlier that morning. "I assure you that Syd Porter won't be bothering any of you again," he explained, making eye-contract with Stefano as he spoke, knowing the man's daughter was pregnant with Syd's child. "My colleagues agree with my recommendations and there is no intention to release him from the hospital. I mean, the man is experiencing strong psychosis. He's paranoid and delusional. Confused and detached," he knowingly told them. He maintained confidence and apparent pride in his work, but deep down he felt far from proud of what he'd done to Syd.

"Maddox, you know how pleased I am with the work you have done so far. You are a gifted man and I know I was right to trust you," Gabriel began. There was clearly a follow-up to the Italian's words, but the man practically left Maddox hanging by taking a long drink for his coffee cup. It was clearly one of many ways Moretti liked to assert his authority and it didn't escape Maddox's observation. "But you're not finished with Syd," he said, placing his cup firmly down on the coffee table. "The man is still alive and still in Roxanne's life. Therefore, he remains a burden, not only to us, but especially to Stefano," he explained, looking to Stefano to invite the man to confirm it. "You will finish the job, Dr. Parker."

"Hold on..." Maddox began, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his lap. "Your orders were to push him into being sectioned or to killing himself. You gave me an option and I followed through to the word. I did exactly as we planned," he firmly defended himself.

"You are correct, but now I am telling you the plan is to kill Syd. You have easy access to the hospital, contacts within the place, and the ability to get Syd out of everyone's hair for good. You've always been so eager to watch those bastards suffer, so forgive me if I'm not seeing your usual enthusiasm." Gabriel sat forward and studied Maddox's face, looking for any sign of weakness or doubt. Though he couldn't see anything of concern, he was fully aware of how exceptionally deceptive the counsellor could be. "If I recall, James Porter didn't just put your father in hospital. He didn't clap his hands together and consider the job done. No... He had some bastard shoot your father three times, didn't he? He was shot right here, wasn't he?" he asked, bringing his index to his own windpipe to symbolise the most fatal of the three wounds Maddox's father had inflicted on him. "You identified the bodies of your father and uncles. You saw in gory details how far the Porters went to get rid of their burdens. Your Uncle Patrick took one in the--" he began, pointing to his own forehead. He was happy to get as personal as was necessary to motivate Maddox.

"Enough! I get it. I want that man to suffer more than anything and I don't care who has to die to break James Porter," Maddox snapped back, through gritted teeth. "My reaction was because it seemed like you were criticising my work when I did exactly as you asked. Do not mistake my irritation for doubt. I want the Porters to fall just as much as you do," he coldly assured him. It was difficult maintaining an assertive exterior surrounded by so many dangerous men, but the man's acting skills were only second to those of his profession.

"Then I'm glad we're all on the same page and we can plan how to get rid of Syd for good. It's important that we all remain firmly focused on the job at hand. You and Ani included..." Gabriel then directed the attention to Alistair, inviting the man to raise his concerns about Ani's relationship.

Pyroclast (Alistair) Bellz (Stefano)
Melanin-Gxdess (Teddy)

 

[Enzyme]

Jackson McCarthy​

Jackson kept a chunk of Craig's greasy hair in his balled fist, lifting the man's bloody face from the destroyed mirror, which now only resembled a wooden board with shards of glass sticking out of the metal frame. He snarled at the man as he ripped his head back, preparing to slam it into the wood. Before he could, he felt a sharp object slice the back of his hand. The chunk of glass pierced his hand with ease and proceeded to slice through the skin that connected his thumb and his index finger, which would undoubtedly require stitches to mend. Jackson instinctively released his grip on the Italians hair, gritting his teeth at the amount of blood gushing from his wound.

With Jackson's attention drawn to his sliced hand, the kick to his knee was considerably effective. He felt his leg bow to the side from the hit, forcing him to shift his weight onto his back foot to remain standing. In such a vulnerable position, the glass shard flying towards his collarbone looked unavoidable. With the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he used his lacerated hand to shove Craig's wrist and deflect the glass. In one fluid motion, Jackson put his left hand on Craig's overextended arm and threw him back towards the broken mirror. As Craig barreled forward, Jackson's hand slipped to the back of Craig's skull, forcing his head down upon the sink. The plaster lining around the sink, which had already been heavily weakened from the beating prior, gave into the force of Craig's forehead and dropped the bloody ceramic bowl to the floor. Water shot out of the exposed pipe with the force of a broken fire hydrant, raining water down from the ceiling like a sprinkler.

Drenched from the broken pipe, Jackson's feet glided across the slippery tiles to the assailant. His hands slapped down onto Craig's bomber jacket, throwing the man towards the closest stall. The weight of Craig's body caused the partition to dent in, bouncing the Italian off of it like a spring. Jackson met Craig's momentum with a right cross, feeling the man's nose crunch under his three knuckles. With the powerful blow delivered, he allowed Craig to crumble to the floor, staring down at him with the fuming eyes of pure ferocity. He then sent a barrage of kicks down to Craig's stomach and chest, coating the once pristine walls of the bathroom in murky water and gore.

Despite how beaten the man appeared, Jackson had no desire to let the mendacious snake live. "Ya' think you can just fuck wit' me, ya' prick?" Jackson spat as he slapped his mangled hand down to the collar of Craig's bomber jacket. With the adrenaline still bombarding Jackson's pain sensors, he dragged the man across the destroyed bathroom until reaching the 'Out of Order' stall. He threw the limp body to the toilet, which had overflowed with dark, cloudy water. Gripping his wet scalp, Jackson shoved Craigs face into the toilet, forcing his head below the water. Despite Craigs desperate attempts to break free, Jackson's grip only tightened around his hair. With such a cowardly intention to kill a bedridden man, Jackson had no issue with drowning the assailant in a toilet bowl filled with god-knows-what.

Misty Gray (Craig)

********
​

As Conor weaved back, Marty lost his intended target and instead stabbed the Irish bloke in the shoulder. The force of the hit had caused the blade to slice deep, with only an inch of metal showing outside of the flesh. Conor's powerful grip around Marty caused his fingers to release the hilt of the switch blade. Before Marty could attempt to shake away the man's beefy hand, he was met with a brick-sized fist to the stomach. He felt the contents of his breakfast spill out of his throat as his heels left the ground with no regard for gravity. Marty was aware of the size-difference going into the brawl, but he had hoped the beefcake would fight like a mindless weed whacker, instead he fought like someone who had to make up for their lack of strength. He hadn't anticipated such agility from a man of that size and was scrambling for leverage.

Marty only had a moment of relief once Conor released his powerful grasp on his wrist, before he was shoved against the bathroom wall. He watched with utter bewilderment as Conor ripped the blade from his shoulder without hesitation. He shook the disbelief from his head and clenched his fists. If he was going to win this, it was going to have to be by sheer willpower. He bounced off the wall as Conor approached, rounding his hand into a hammer-fist. Before he could reach the man's chin, his temple was met with the powerful hit that caused his vision to cross. He felt his knees buckle under him as his static senses slipped into a hypnagogic haze. As the room began to rapidly spin around him, it transformed into a conglomerate of indistinguishable colors.

Through his dreary state, he felt a mighty hand stretch across his face and force it towards the wall. His vision, along with his senses, went entirely black once his head made contact with the metal hand dryer. Luckily for him, he wouldn't have to suffer the immense pain of his right eye shooting out of its socket, with only the orbital nerve keeping it attached to his head. Marty's body collapsed to the floor, leaving behind brain matter in the dented-in dryer. His agape mouth let out a river of dark maroon, filling the concrete lines between the individual tiles and mixing with the contents of his open skull.

Misty Gray (Conor)

​

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Theodore Wycliff

After their meeting with the Porters, Teddy began to get more and more excited to reach the climax of their plans. Seeing how easy it was to get a rise out of both of the men gave him a reason to believe what the Moretti's were doing was successful. Knowing that plans they were enacting were successful made Teddy feel good; he liked knowing they weren't duds and their work wasn't for nothing. That's why he was so willing to go to this meeting with Stefano and Alistair, men he knew of but didn't really know. Going to meetings with the three big heads was never something he even wanted to do. Working on the sidelines, being Gabe's confidant was something he was more than happy being. Unfortunately, Gabriel had different plans for the man today as he had picked him up from his apartment to take him to the Big Meeting, as Teddy called it.

Sitting at the table, watching the bosses converse, Teddy made sure to actively listen this time. This was probably one of the more important meetings, seeing as he was present. The discussion of Syd Porter and his attempted suicide brought a slight smile to Teddy's lips. Not because the poor kid was trying to off himself, but because Maddox had failed in getting him to do so. Teddy always had mixed, if not negative, feelings for Maddox. He never believed he was the best at his job, but knew he was good enough to get the information they needed against the Porters. He always saw him as a glorified informant, not this cold-hearted man who would do anything to get the job done. It didn't help matters when Teddy heard about his relationship with Ani and the fact it was discussed even more during the meeting. It seemed like he was letting a woman soften his heart and that prevented him from doing his actual job. A voice broke through his thoughts and it was asking him his own opinions of James, following the meeting they had in the garage. Glancing to Gabriel, he was gauging to see if he were ready to discuss that before Alistair went on. He would wait until it was brought up before giving his own assessment. The only times Teddy was to speak were when he was asked. For the most part, he was observing and getting his own thoughts together.

Stefano's concerns surrounding his daughter were understandable; love was a fickle thing. It made him happy to know that shutting off any emotions he had years ago was a good decision. It seemed to be one of the bigger problems being addressed in this meeting than the Porters were. Early in the meeting, Teddy had declined the offer for coffee and instead opted for water. He was setting his cup down when Maddox walked into the room and was immediately annoyed. It didn't show, however, as Teddy leaned back in his seat and raised his index finger above his lip. He listened and watched intently as Maddox explained himself and went through his own briefing. It wasn't until Gabriel informed the counselor that he was going to kill Syd Porter. Watching him lean forward in his seat intrigued Teddy, as he thought he was surprised and the change of plans from his boss. Anyone else, anyone who claimed to have such hatred towards a particular group would have just jumped at the chance; it almost seemed like he hesitated.

Yet, when he confirmed he wasn't, Teddy remained skeptical. Sure, maybe he was maybe he wasn't. Regardless, Teddy didn't trust nor like Maddox despite him helping the group make progress towards their unified goal.





​

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Aliana Cartwright-Sullivan

Ali noticed Sinny and saw how Savvy wanted to avoid her for the time being, With that being said, she followed her niece to a secluded booth where they weren't to be spotted. Some part of her felt like eventually they would be found, but for now they were fine. Continuing their conversation, Aliana set her things to the left of her and shook her head, "You have no idea; trust me." When asked if she were happy, there was no hesitation this time. Months ago if you were to ask her such a thing she would hesitate and get a distant look in her eye, answering with a, "Well..." But now? Now her eyes twinkled like they did when she and Conor first admitted their love for each other. "I am now. Even though your uncle is one hell of a disaster, he's my disaster and I love him. Despite all that we've been through and all that we're undoubtedly going to go through, I think I'll always love him." The smile she tried not to show broke through as she got lost in thought, raising her finger tips to her lips. Realizing what she was doing, she cleared her throat. "Sorry, love... Now, what did you want to talk about?"

The conversation turned serious, but she knew she would. Savannah hadn't come to her for advice in years and now that she was, Ali automatically knew something was amiss. Unfortunately, she did confirm her fear that something was wrong. Everyone was having their own moments of PTSD when it came to all the bad things happening lately between bombs and abductions. Even she was having her own moments, though she knew she would be okay even if something did happen to her. Once she heard that the men who had abducted her came around again, Ali frowned. She was about to give her niece a chastising, but when she explained how afraid she was, she stopped herself. "Sav, you have to let us know about this kind of stuff. If not your parents, then me or someone. It's more dangerous to keep it to yourself than anything."

Listening to her niece explain her feelings, it led up to her asking about defending herself. It made Ali think of when her parents wanted to do the same when she was just 10 years old. The thought of Peter and Sinead allowing Savannah to learn how to use a gun made her internally shake her head. Ali saw how she was with Emery when she held a gun and that freaked Sin out. But, if they were to do it in secret it'd be an even bigger problem. It all meant she was going to have to convince the two that it was necessary for her to learn, just to protect herself. It didn't mean she was going to join the gang and if it made her feel better, she would teach Savvy and even get her a legal gun. "Of course I will." Tapping her fingers on the table for a second, she responded. "Maybe we won't tell them he came back... They'll have a heart attack, a conniption even and won't ever let you out of their sight.. I'll talk to Conor about it and we'll take care of it okay?"

The question of how she remained so strong in this family actually made her think. She was stumped on how to answer before she smiled. "All of you, of course. I've inadvertently been apart of this family since I was a kid, you know. For years I wanted to leave and it got even more apparent when I married your Uncle and had Leo. But when I realized I had all these people who cared about me and who I cared about I stopped being scared and made it a priority to be stronger. I want to protect those that matter to me; you included."



​

 

[Misty Gray]

Conor Sullivan​

Conor removed his hand from Marty's face and took a few steps back, leaving the unconscious man's body to collapse onto the floor in front of him. It only took a brief observation of the Italian's smashed up skull and the bloody mush on the dented hand dryer to confirm to Conor that the man wasn't waking up from that beating. Conor took a few more steps back so as to avoid any of the spreading red blood from touching the soles of his shoes. Since he was a teenager, Conor had been fighting for his survival and had always favoured getting his hands dirty over simply using guns to win a battle. In all of that time, he'd hospitalised many men, some of which had been left with severe and permanent injuries. To his knowledge, the dead Italian before him was only the second man he had killed. Considering the first had been the result of him losing control of his temper and lashing out, Marty was the first man Conor had consciously murdered. He wouldn't deny to himself or anyone that he knew what he was doing when he smashed the Italian's skull against the metal appliance. The threats to his family were very serious and Conor was aware that if he was going to help James fight this dangerous enemy, there couldn't be any holding back. In James' own words, there was no time for mercy. Still, the least Conor felt he could do in that moment was face the mess he'd left behind and look at the man he'd just killed. There was no pleasure or victory in the moment, but he certainly didn't feel remorse for the act. This was a war and the Italians knew exactly what they were doing when they walked into the hospital with the intention of killing Warren. Conor had been unable to kill Vinnie Romano before the man had his own father killed all of those years ago, so he'd be damned if he stood back and let the new enemies slaughter even more of his loved ones.

Conor turned to the toilet stalls to see Jackson was done with Craig, having drowned the man to death in the overflowed toilet. Conor nodded his head, taking further reassurance knowing his friend also hadn't held back in stopping the bastards. He approached the stall in question and pulled the piece of paper from the cubicle door. He then made his way to the bathroom entrance and stuck the 'out of order' sign on the outside of the door, hoping to deter anyone from walking in. He quickly looked up and down the corridor to confirm nobody was approaching the scene, before pushing the door closed. "So, we're going to need to sneak right on out of here," he pointed out. Given they both had physical signs of being in a fight, it wasn't as easy as leaving the way they came and walking past the cops at the entrance. "We need to get to our blokes outside and get some of them guarding Warren."

Conor took a moment to slide his coat off of his injured arm, looking in one of the unbroken mirrors as he did. "Motherfucker..." he spat as he studied the bleeding wound on his upper arm. He grabbed a bundle of paper towels and pressed them down hard against the stab wound, grimacing at the pain the action caused. "What are the fucking chances of being in a bloody hospital and not being able to ask for medical help? There's a place in Hell's Kitchen we can go to get patched up." As he spoke he slotted the switch blade into his back pocket and then used the one hand to remove his belt from around his trouser waist. He began winding the belt around his arm before looking back to Jackson. "Give us a hand, mate. Wrap it nice and tight around this bloody hole in my arm, then apologise later for making me cry," he remarked, knowing the action would be painful. He knew they needed to be quick and sneak out of the hospital, but he'd be able to focus a lot easier without blood pouring down his arm. "You've not been here a week and we're already getting into trouble. Just like the old days," he joked. He knew he had a lot of reflecting to do considering he'd just smashed a man's skull in, but for now he was happy to delay it. The more pressing matter was getting out of the hospital and not getting locked up for murder.


Enzyme (Jackson)