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

[Misty Gray]

Sinead Callahan and James Porter​

Sinead watched on as Roxie held Jane whilst Lucy tended to Jeanie. Despite the sleepless nights and always having to change diapers, none of it could put the redhead off from having a fourth baby to look after. Savannah had been the hardest work, but that was more Sinead's own psychological state amplifying everything at that point than the baby's doing. She'd worried throughout that pregnancy and the first few weeks about how her daughter wouldn't have a father in her life. Thankfully, Peter found his way into their hearts and helped Sinead to find herself again. She softly smiled to Roxie, hoping she and Syd would continue to work things out in their relationship so they could look after their babies together. "It's all worth it," she reassured Roxie.

Sinead managed a broader smile when Lucy praised her for going through it all four times now. "It gets easier every time, though I'm sure I will stop at four little miracles," she confirmed, glancing to Peter. She was soon distracted when Blake addressed everyone to announce her open pregnancy. Sinead's jaw dropped with surprise before she quickly nodded her head and clapped her hands together. "Oh wow! Congratulations!" she exclaimed, an excited smile now on her face. "Ahh, that's amazing. I promise I won't let it slip to Jackson." She then turned to Peter as her husband addressed her to point out how the McCarthys would be living in Dublin with them. She kissed his cheek before resting her head on his shoulder. "You're right, we won't be super loners now," she said, glad they weren't going to be the only ones living back in Dublin and that their baby would have a friend to grow up with.

James couldn't deny he'd started to zone out as the women talked about diaper-changing and morning sickness, but he was soon drawn back into the conversation when Blake announced her pregnancy. "Congratulations, love. That's great news," he said, grinning as he spoke. "Jackson's going to be made up when he finds out. No sleep-ins for him back in Dublin for a while," he teased.

James hadn't been oblivious to Aliana looking thoughtful and he figured he knew why. Likely the same reason Roxie and Blake would be concerned that evening. "The guys have the upper hand on this one, Ali. They've had time to plan tonight's job and they're fully prepared," he assured her. Obviously every job came with its risks, but the Morettis were the ones under attack this time.

Bellz (Lucy, Peter, Blake, Roxie)
Melanin-Gxdess (Aliana)

 

[Misty Gray]

Jasmine Carpenter​

Jasmine couldn't help but smile as she noticed Chase blushing. She continued to do so before looking down to take the cards he had dealt her. She couldn't help it, but something about his modesty and somewhat introversion made her even more attracted to him. It was truly a curious feature. The man was involved in such a violent and dangerous line of work but there was something that set him apart from the others. He wasn't cocky and he didn't give off over-inflated macho levels. He was clearly strong, brave and hardworking, but he was more laid back about it all. "Those rosy cheeks sure do suit you," she softly teased.

Jasmine listened as Chase spoke of his friendship with Adam. Although the latter gave off the same kind of macho vibes that she wasn't romantically attracted to in a man, it didn't stop her from considering him a good friend; one she could have uninhibited banter with. To hear Chase speak of his friendship with the man was good to hear and she liked that the two men were such close friends. Then when Chase went on to say his desire to stick around her and know her more was immediate, which ended up causing Jasmine to blush herself. "That's really sweet," she quietly told him.

Jasmine listened as Chase explained what he liked about her. With her elbow on the table, she covered her forehead with her hand as she listened, trying to hide her own embarrassment now she was under the spotlight. She'd never been with a man who spoke about her as genuinely and kindly as Chase was in that moment. When he said she had something about her that made him want to know her more, she moved her hand away and looked to him, their red flushed face evidently now matching. She let out a small, bashful laugh when he called her beautiful. She ran the tips of her index and middle finger over her lips as she processed his words. Upon hearing him apologise to her, she cleared her throat and quickly shook her head. "No, you weren't being patronising. I never once thought that," she reassured him.

She reached her hand out across the table to hold his and studied his face for a moment. Before she had time to speak, she heard footsteps passing by outside the door, presumably belonging to one of the guards. Although she was sure nobody was about to enter, it still brought her head back to where they presently were. She reluctantly let go of his hand and sent him a mischievous smile. "God, can you imagine if someone walked in? I bet their cheeks would be as red as ours are right now," she remarked. Her face turned serious before continuing. "We need to arrange a date, Chase. Spend time together when we're not working nor when I'm too tired to enjoy your company," she said, referring to when she'd spent the night sleeping at his place. "You can tell me more about the art in your place, though. Are the paintings all from the same artist?" she curiously asked. "I didn't have you down as an art collector."

Pyroclast (Chase)

 

[Misty Gray]

Gabriel Moretti and Valentina Moretti​

Gabriel observed as Teddy approached Valentina. Despite Teddy convincing promising him he was going to make his daughter happy again, Gabriel still felt protective as he watched the younger man approach his daughter. He was prepared to step in at the first sign of discomfort in his daughter, especially as Teddy lifted his hands to touch her cheeks. Stood on the spot a few feet away, Gabriel could see the brief apprehension in his daughter was soon replaced by her seemingly allowing Teddy to touch her face. The concern in Teddy's voice seemed genuine and it was clear to see the man cared for Valentina the way he'd promised. It didn't mean Gabriel was convinced the changes in Teddy were permanent and that his commitment to Valentina would last, but for now Gabriel was content the young man's feelings for her were real.

Valentina felt some relief once in the secure presence of her father and Teddy's presence only strengthened her feeling of security. At first, there was a flicker of a moment where she was about to reflexively recoil from Teddy's hands. However, as she looked into Teddy's eyes and processed the kindness behind then, she inched her face closer to meet his hands, taking in the comforting warmth of his skin on her cheeks. She wasn't sure how far into the meeting the two men had got, but for the moment, her father and Teddy seemed to be on friendly terms. She looked desperately to Teddy as he asked her what was wrong. "It was. Steve, he..." she said is an exhausted whisper. Thankfully, her mother spoke up to explain what was happening.

Gabriel's attention switched to Elvian, fully aware of the way she'd angrily barged into the room. He stood on the spot, his mouth slightly open as his listened to his wife's Romanian tirade, most of which he understood by now, despite the way it was delivered. Still, the woman stopped and took a deep breath before speaking in English instead. When Elvian said Steve's name, Gabriel raised a curious eyebrow. Then when she said Valentina had identified the man in question as Isac's partner in crime, Gabriel tightened his jaw as he willed himself to remain calm and collected. Although Elvian told him not to question the validity of the accusation, he still couldn't help but look to his daughter for confirmation. "You're completely sure?" he asked her, his voice remained calm but clearly laced with a building fury.

"Yes, I'm sure, Papa. There's no doubt in my mind that it was him," she firmly replied. She anxiously chewed her bottom lip as she allowed herself to lean in closer to Teddy, almost using him to keep her standing.

"Quel fottuto mostro marcirà all'Inferno," Gabriel darkly grumbled as the deep fury became evident in his eyes. Of course, he knew what Steve was capable of. There was no doubt in his mind that the man was capable of the sickest of acts, admittedly some of which had been committed under Gabriel's own orders. The real shock was that the man would have the audacity to betray him and inflict suffering on his daughter. It was horrendous enough that his daughter had suffered at all, but for her to do so at the hands of men Gabriel employed or was in partnership with was too much.

With Valentina being supported by Teddy, Gabriel instinctively wrapped his arm around his wife and pulled her in close to try calm her down. It wasn't quite so easy to do so when he was not only feeling angry himself but he had guilt added onto it. It was painful knowing his daughter was hurt because of his business, but to know for certain it was at the hands of people he employed made it all that heavier a burden to carry.

Gabriel soon had to let go of Elvian, knowing he couldn't contain his thoughts and feelings. He took a step back so he could see the three others in the room. "How long ago did they leave?" he asked. It had been a good half hour since Steve and Ethan had left his office, so he suspected they'd had plenty of time to have driven off onto their next job. "Did they say anything to you both? What happened out in the lobby?" he asked his wife and daughter. "The sick freak is going to suffer for what he's done. He won't get away with this, I swear. East Harlem is done. Steve, Ethan, and that crippled boss of theirs. They will all pay for this, I swear." Alistair's weakened state at the hands of Ani had given Gabriel enough reason to consider severing the volatile limb that was East Harlem, but now their betrayal had made it more than a consideration. He wasn't even willing to wait until he won New York before cutting of those ties completely.

Melanin-Gxdess (Teddy, Elvian)

 

[Pyroclast]

Chase Zegarra

It came as a relief to him that Jasmine took his slip of the tongue as nothing less than a compliment. He didn’t flinch when she reached over to hold his hand, and put his cards face-down on the table so that he could give her his full attention. Her touch was exhilarating yet comforting; it brought him back to the night he and Adam had finally found her, which he supposed had been the first time he understood that the feelings he held for her were mutual. Now, he had no doubt. The room fell quiet as their affectionate touch and bashful smiles took over a need for conversation. Chase was so wrapped up in the moment that he didn’t notice the footsteps pass by the door until Jasmine retrieved her hand, just about breaking him out of the spell.

He chuckled softly as she teased herself for blushing now as well as him. She asked him to go on a date with her and, somehow, he stopped feeling so nervous. It was like she had given him permission to be more open about what she meant to him; he was allowed to call her beautiful, he was allowed to ask her on a date instead of just out for a drink. “Of course,” he uttered, through an irrepressible smile. At the risk of sounding too keen, he added, “I’ll take you out this weekend, if you want.”

Jasmine’s train of thought seemed to lead her back to her impression of his apartment and, clearly intrigued, asked him if all the art on his walls was by the same artist. “Uh...yes, same artist,” he answered, rubbing a hand across the back of his head. “Well, I’m not really an art collector. I’m more of a, uh...well, I paint.” He suddenly felt just as shy as he had before, enough for his eyes to fall to the table. Clearly it was an effect she had on him even after acknowledging their feelings for each other. “They’re my paintings,” he finally admitted, looking to her once again with a modest smile. “It’s just a hobby, though. I only have them on my walls so I can be surrounded by reminders of home. Of Cuba, I mean. I probably won’t live there again, but I wanted to keep the memories with me, you know...because it’s so different to New York. Nothing about this city reminds me of home.” His gaze grew distant for a moment, accompanied by a fond smile as visions of the misty mogotes floated through his mind; he felt the ghost of the sun’s hot touch grace his back, smelled the bundles of drying leaves, heard the clamour of live music in the streets. There were bad memories too, of course, but he saw no reason to preserve those. Not to put on his walls, anyway.

Returning his attention to Jasmine, he swept his hand across the table to invite her to hold it. "Maybe after you come to Cuba with me, the paintings will make more sense." He said it in a light tone, so that she could take it either as a joke or as a serious offer, depending on what she wanted to hear. If she wanted an adventurous date like she had described, he couldn't think of anything more adventurous than flying her out of the country. “But I do like it here in New York," he quickly added, not wanting to appear homesick. "After all, Cuba doesn't have you.” Suddenly a teasing remark that his friend Jerón had made sprang to mind about him enjoying his work in Yuma because of Jasmine. He wished he didn’t have to give the man the satisfaction of being right, especially because Jerón’s comment had been founded on nothing but Jasmine’s beauty, but he was sure the man would be pleased to hear about their blossoming relationship nonetheless. “Okay, now you know my guilty pass-time,” Chase smiled. “You tell me yours. What do you do when you’re not at work?”

Interactions
Misty Gray Jasmine

 

[Bellz]

Gwen Bryant ​

Gwen had known that Jason had grown up quite a bit since they were together in Dublin, it showed in everything he had done in the last few months. But the redhead was still surprised to hear him say that he wanted her little broken family and it made her lip tremble. Gwen's eyes watered and she let out a broken laugh, "I promised myself that I wouldn't cry, it feels like I've been crying these last few months almost every day but damn, you've got me." She murmured humorously before taking a deep breath and reining in her emotions.

The waiter came back with the drinks and saw that Gwen's eyes were red clearly so he told them he would give them a few more minutes. Gwen muttered her thanks, not having even looked at the menu yet. "Only months ago, it was hard to see my life going in a positive direction." Gwen told Jason honestly. "Although I was so full of hate when I saw you, again, I apologize for that. I was really just hating myself. The fact that I still felt something for you was so shocking to me. I just didn't think you would still have that effect on me." Gwen shook her head in slight disbelief.

"Even though it felt like a lifetime, you and I almost barely knew each other 11 years ago." The redhead smile, "I mean, I'm sure you don't remember given the state you were in but we went out for like...a month if that." Squeezing his hands in hers, she chuckled, "I didn't think you would have such a lasting effect on me but here you are, right in front of me, 11 years later. And you have shocked me, saying that you are ready to take on my daughter with me. Other men...they wouldn't do this, but you? It's been clear to me since day one that you aren't like other men. And that's a great thing."

Gwen smiled sweetly Jason's way and before she could say more, the waiter returned to take their order. Without having a chance to really browse, Gwen picked the first thing that popped out to her before waiting for Jason to order. All the while she watched her significant other, admiring him as he looked at his menu. Once the waiter was gone, Gwen continued to stare in silence for a moment.

"I know I said I was surprised that you still had an effect on me but in all honesty, like I think I've told you before...you were always on my mind." Gwen paused for a moment to take a drink of her wine before smiling softly, "And I know, that you may have had your doubts about my priorities this last year. The drugs, they really took over my thoughts but Lorelei and you...I have always tried to make sure you both knew you were my priorities but...it was hard." Again, her eyes were watering and Gwen had to remove one hand from Jason's to wipe under them lightly to keep the tears at bay.

"You both are my life now, and I know I selfishly gave into my addiction then but I really think I'm a changed woman now. You, I, and Lorelei are forever, babe. And to know you are ready for this, just makes me love you all the more." She moved to take another sip of her wine before sighing, "I have been looking for auditions lately and I am proud to say I do have one lined up for this next week. It's on Broadway, but I am hoping that my reputation won't ruin it because I'm sure our last director blabbed about us to whoever she could."
with: Jason Pyroclast

 

[Enzyme]

Jackson McCarthy​

As Syd referenced a quote Jackson had used in a conversation months ago, a sly, mischievous smirk ran across his masked lips, only visible through the curvature in his eyes behind the plastic. Jackson's grip moved up from Syd's shoulder to his face, lightly patting him on the side of the mask. "That's my boy," he chuckled, locking his hands around Syd's head as if he were holding a priceless artifact. "We're gonna show these cunts what Syd Porter's made of," he said, aggressively shaking Syd's head to psych him up. "Let's get 'em, killa'!" He released Syd's head from his grasp, raising his arms out wide in a 'come at me' manner.

The group moved from the silver vans, which had "Rat-Away" labeled in yellow just above the handles, to the shaded walkway. To the average bystander, they looked like nothing more than exterminators, sent by the city. The area they were in, while a beautiful park on the coast of New York, wasn't densely populated in the slightest, so the disguise would surely do the trick. Together, they piled up the cracked cement staircase, stacking up to the rotting, wooden door, where the oneway glass was covered with duct-taped cardboard. They had done a fair amount of scouting on the location in the past two days, to know that the Morettis were heavily populating the area, yet they had never gotten a good look inside. The henchmen that did step in, were secretive enough to keep the doors closed behind them, and cover as many windows as possible. With this, the Sullivans had no idea what to expect, or how many would inhabit the decrepit halls.

Jackson's gloved hand slowly pushed open the door, allowing the natural light to flood into the reception room. The fact that the door was unlocked in the first place was a major red flag in his mind, but as far as he was concerned, the task force was prepared for anything. Sliding his hand into the flap of his vest, he pulled the Mac-10 into his grip, his feet slowly sweeping across the dirt and glass that riddled the floor. As they flooded into the room, Jackson signaled for the two duffle bag carriers to start fogging up the joint.

PTSSSSSS. The tear gas hissed out into a venomous cloud as the cans loudly rolled onto the floor. The burning smoke was quick to consume the fresh air, but with their respirators on, the Sullivans pushed forward undisturbed. They moved past the two ticket booths, which were shielded by cracked glass on all three walls. There didn't appear to be a soul in sight. Jackson's glance fell back to Conor, a confused, concerned stare in his eyes. Should they proceed?

They were too far gone at this point, and with the door closed behind them, Jackson pushed forward through the narrow space, into what looked to be the old security checkpoint. From there they saw three hallways around them, both closed off by swinging doors. The walls around them appeared to have been painted white at one point, but the excessive amount of tagged spraypaint made it hard to make out any semblance of the older building. Nature had taken it's own share of the building back, with vines and foliage breaking through the tiled floor and creeping up the walls.

Jackson raised his fist to his head, urging everyone to stop in their tracks. Something wasn't right, he could feel it. This was supposed to be the big day where Gabriel did his inspection. Besides the fact that the place looked like the result of a nuclear blast, there wasn't a soul in sight. He wasn't expecting an Italian rally, but surely there would've been someone lurking about the hallways. The hairs on Jackson's neck shot up as he could hear the faint sound of someone sputtering - as if they had been holding their breath to avoid breathing in the gas. He twisted his head, looking back to where it came from. He stared at the ticket booth with an unwavering gawk, as if it were going to spring to life. There it was again, another stifled cough.

When the lightbulb finally flashed, the realization hit him like a ton of bricks and left him winded. He couldn't find the voice to shout before the doors in front of them shot open. "Get the fuck down!" Jackson finally drew out, just as the first bullets rang out. With a hand on Syd, he threw himself back against the other's behind them, forcing as many to the floor as possible. The gunshots rang out like compressed fireworks, echoing off of the walls like a kickball. Glass exploded behind them as two figures stood up from the ticket booth, spraying aimlessly at the crowd of Sullivans. The tear gas in the air had thickened enough to where it left a strong fog about the small security checkpoint and might've been the only reason the Sullivans weren't all killed immediately.

Misty Gray (Conor/Adam) Pyroclast (Syd) Bellz (Rebel)

 

[Misty Gray]

~ Ethan Turner ~
~ Conor Sullivan and Adam Harper ~​

Ethan had wanted to get out of Moretti's building quickly as he'd picked up on the risk of Steve being in such close proximity to Valentina. Like the younger man, he had a feeling the boss' daughter had recognised him as one of the men who attacked her. Ethan had a biological family, with biological siblings, but those people meant nothing to him. The only two men who came close to being considered family were Alistair and Steve, but even then, they were different kind of brothers - comrades who he held respect for. Ethan was very picky about who he gave his respect to. Like Steve, he had no intention of attempting to flee from possible Moretti justice while they could, and instead remained intent on completing their mission. He wasn't doing it for Gabriel, but for himself and Alistair. Ethan's hatred for the Sullivans stretched far beyond the day he first met Gabriel and even before he met Alistair. He was going to savour the moment and take pleasure in watching the Irish fall, especially if they got to kill the senior family members tonight.

Along with Amato, Tatiana and dozens more, Ethan and Steve had arrived at the abandoned train station well in advance of the Irish Mob. Amato was one of Moretti's men, but Ethan had enjoyed working with the man on recent jobs. Tatiana was a Moretti by blood and despite anticipating issues with Gabriel in the near future, they were all on a mission, which meant he would work with the woman as if she were any other gang member. If anything, he was impressed to see her on the team.

"I think we're all going to enjoy this," he spoke out as slotted his pistol in his belt whilst clutching the machine gun in his right hand.

*****​

As they walked away from the vans to the walkway, Adam remained alongside Rebel whilst Conor walked ahead of them with Jackson and Syd. It still felt strange to Adam that amongst the other actions he carried out, he was also employed as a bodyguard where the newest boss was a man bigger and no doubt stronger than himself. But he reminded himself that when it came down to it, even a big guy like Conor wasn't untouchable. Certainly not immune to bullets and explosives. As such, Adam knew that on top of trying to score a decent body count of Morettis, he also needed to maintain the objective of keeping the boss alive at the end of the night. When it came down to it, Adam believed himself to be a soldier without nothing holding him back. Conor, however, was not only in charge of the Irish Mob but the man had a family to go back home to - he had a lot to lose.

Following in behind Jackson, both Conor and Adam held their sub-machine guns ready to aim and fire. As they entered the building through the unlocked door, Adam's eyes proceeded to continously scan the area around them. He briefly looked to the ground as the gas cannisters rolled across the floor, letting out the cloud that polluted the air and would shortly comprise the visual quality of the building's interior, at least to anyone present who wasn't wearing a gas mask. They managed to pass by the ticket booths without yet seeing or hearing any of their expected targets. Adam wasn't sure he liked that kind of suspicious silence.

When Jackson turned to him, Conor briefly looked over his shoulder as he considered the situation but he turned back to his friend and sent him a nod of agreement. They were already too committed into the building to turn back now. He felt Adam's firm grip on his arm, causing him to glare at the man as the bodyguard signalled for him to stay close. As much as it bugged him to have someone holding him back, he accepted the man was doing his duty and so he would have to swallow his pride to accept Adam knew what he was doing. The last thing he wanted to do was compromise his own team.

When they reached the area surrounded by three doors, Jackson suddenly raised his fist to signal for everyone to stop walking. Adam glanced to Rebel before he grasped the upper sleeve of Conor's jacket and urged his boss to move to stand behind him where he'd be covered from all angles. Hearing the cough, Adam and Conor both raised their firearms, aiming it ahead as they tried to find the source of the muffled sound. After the second stifled cough, Jackson's voice suddenly ordered everyone to get down. Adam turned to Conor, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and putting on the pressure to encourage the man to act quickly and get straight down to the floor.

The bullets began spraying out across the building, creating a barrage of loud bangs and flying debris around them. Adam felt one of the bullets as it tore through his sleeve and grazed the skin of his bicep, causing a deep flesh wound but nothing serious enough for him to concern himself about in that moment. "Stay down, Boss, we'll keep you covered," he ordered Conor in a loud, growling whisper. He knew it would be difficult for his boss to take orders and not throw himself into the middle of the action, but he was willing to risk pissing the big guy off if it meant he was doing his job right. The thick cloud of smoke was advantageous to the Irish and Adam made sure to stay low as he prepared his machine gun to aim and open fire in the direction of where the bullet that had hit him came from. His attention was briefly drawn to the lifeless bodies in his peripheral vision, ones belonging to his fellow comrades. Still gripping his gun, his eyes darted around the place, seeking out safe exits whilst also trying to pinpoint any of his active teammates.

*****​

From their position on the 38.1ft corridor, Ethan couldn't help but let out laugh as he and his allies opened fired on the fifteen or so Sullivan men. Although the tear gas smoke was preventing a clear view, there was not doubt they'd caught some of the Irish lot unaware. As he paused to reload, Ethan grumbled loud enough for Steve and anyone else close enough to hear. "Where's that overgrown Irish fuck gone..." He was sure the tall man he'd seen with the group was Conor Sullivan. Any dead members of the Irish gang were a success, but the real prizes were the family members and the senior mob employees. Mere soldiers were worthless to him.

Pyroclast (Syd, Steve, Tatiana) Bellz (Rebel) Enzyme (Jackson, Amato)

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter, Steve Kelly and Tatiana Moretti


Seeing his Godfather act so confidently took a weight off Syd’s shoulders. The man knew what he was doing - without drawing attention to it, he was channeling Syd’s fired-up nerves into enthusiasm. A certain amount of worrying could be useful when preparing for action, but at the last minute it brought more potential for mistakes. Now, drawing from Jackson’s hype, Syd couldn’t wait to bring the enemy down. He beamed at him, letting out an excitable laugh when the man shook him about. His sense of danger hadn’t lessened but his optimism had been heightened, primed for success even if it cost him an injury. At the thought of bringing relief to his family back home, he slapped an arm around his Godfather for a brief squeeze before letting him march the soldiers towards their target.


The minutes passed like hours standing in that corridor - not that that was unusual for a man as impatient as Steve. He had wanted to make sure he was there for the Sullivans’ arrival since their reaction upon realising they had been ambushed was a moment he knew he would want to store in his mind forever. He had a bank of memories he would often replay in his mind during the rare hours of rest that he took, and he was always keen to add more to it. When he couldn’t be acting on his desires and duties, most of which overlapped, he could at least be daydreaming about them.

It was everything in between that agitated him: the planning, the meetings, the driving, the waiting, the listening. God, the listening. Steve huffed out an impatient breath, springing his back off the wall in a repetitive pattern as the army of Moretti and East Harlem gangsters lay in wait, as quietly as a group that large could manage. Though they were divided between the corridor and the two ticket booths situated across the security checkpoint, it was still crowded, and the lack of space only added to Steve’s restlessness. The feeling of pent up energy grew more intense the longer he was in a confined space.

Near to the door was Tatiana, trying to watch through the window for a sign of movement without getting distracted by Steve. Though he was older than her by a couple of years, she always felt that his maturity must be somewhat stunted. With Ethan also keeping watch, she tore her attention away to cast an accusing eye at Steve and when he caught it, he stopped bouncing against the wall and smiled at her. Valentina returned to his mind then and he couldn’t help feeling smug knowing that Tatiana had no idea of what he had done to her little sister. He didn’t know how long he would be able to hold onto that feeling but for as long as he wasn’t being hunted down, he was going to let himself revel in it.

If Steve really thought about their mission, he might actually be disappointed that a successful outcome meant they would have fewer enemies to fight with. Tatiana, on the other hand, had given this mission plenty of thought. Long before it ever became a solid plan, she had dreamed of the day New York would be free of the Sullivans. Not only that, but that the family who had massacred hers would get what they deserved: an equally unexpected, undignified death. Amato was a recruit of her father’s which automatically earned at least some of her respect and trust. Ethan and Steve, on the other hand, were only allies rather than affiliates. The oath they had taken meant nothing to her as it had been to a different gang. Still, regardless of their reason for fighting, the important thing was that they added numbers to her family’s side. She doubted that the Sullivans would enter the train station by the dozen but it was still better to tip the balance in their favour as far as they could.

Eventually, a small canister rolled across the floor from the station’s main entrance, a hissing cloud of gas billowing up into the air. “Hello,” Tatiana announced, not too loudly. Without even looking behind her, she held her free hand up to stop Steve in his tracks. “Shit... They’re hiding through tear gas. Let’s get this shit done fast and get out of here.” Her hand returned to her machine gun and, like a dog waiting for a ball to be thrown, Steve took it as a signal to leap forward and hurl himself through the door, riding the recoil of his Uzi like a jackhammer as he blindly opened fire through the fog.


Syd had followed his Uncle and Godfather with practiced stealth, with Rebel, Adam and fifteen further soldiers bringing up the rear. Despite the fresh boost of confidence he was trying to maintain, he couldn’t help but feel a general sense of unease about the place, and not for the station’s neglected interior. He listened out for a voice: nothing. Just the close, almost claustrophobic echo of his breath being circulated through his gas mask. The tinny sound of the gas canister rolling into the open was expected to draw a vocal reaction, but still there was only silence. The crew looked between themselves, and when he saw the concern on Jackson’s face, Syd felt his anxiety spike up once again and the echo in his mask grew louder. Finally, Jackson flung a hand out to him, breaking the suspense. The impact of hitting the ground collided with the explosion of rapid fire, only just saving them from getting torn to shreds by an onslaught of bullets.

After the initial shock, Syd tuned himself into his surroundings as best he could. The noise was all-encompassing, seeming to come from all directions, but all he could make out were flashes of gunfire caught in the smoke, silhouettes falling jaggedly through the stroboscopic light. Only by the sound and vibration of bodies dropping onto the ground around him was he able to conclude that the firing was indeed coming from both in front and behind them. All he could think to do was move. Where would be a safe place to move to, he had no idea, but anywhere had to be better than where he currently was. The ground was already littered with bodies, both dead and injured, and he couldn’t even see who the poor souls were. Slinging his MP5 around to his back, Syd began to army crawl blindly through the mess, blood soaking into his clothes. Once or twice a body would fall on top of him and he would have to wriggle himself free, but he kept going. If he could just escape the ring of fire, he would have a chance at finding himself a vantage point.


Never being one to hang back, Steve decided not to be put off by the tear gas and as such his eyes were already streaming viciously, red raw around the edges from the stinging it caused. He’d taken a second to pull his bandana over his nose, but kept up his aim. “All I see are goddamn figures!” he called back to Ethan, with a cotton gag clamped between his teeth. “Don’t ask questions, man, just shoot whatever moves!” The gag unfolded from his mouth when he let out a roar of uncontainable laughter, but was quickly interrupted by the taste of tear gas attacking his throat and it turned into a violent cough that, for a moment, compromised his aim just long enough to bust a hole in the ceiling, causing some heavy debris to fall onto the unsuspecting mob.


Finally, the gunfire was behind him. Scrambling to his feet once it felt safe to do so, Syd skidded around the corner of a new corridor, his boots squeaking against the tiles. There was no time to dwell on what and who he had left back there - he was too busy trying to orientate himself, trying to find an alternative route and a better position. Unlike in the security checkpoint, there were no signs hanging from the ceiling to give any indication of where he was or what direction to go in. He ran to the far end of the empty corridor, almost slipping over once or twice for the blood that greased his boots. There were two doors: a manager’s office, and a crew room. Syd put his hands over his head and cursed to himself. He had reached a dead-end. There was nowhere left to go but back into the fire. Feeling well and truly alone, he swung his gun back around and caught it in his hands before taking a deep breath. There was a chance all his comrades were dead by now, his family and friends, but as far as he was concerned, he had two choices: sit in the empty corridor and let fear and panic take over until the enemy found and murdered him...or return to the fire, and do his best to shoot back. Even if he was killed, he would at least go down fighting. ”You can’t be afraid to kill those who want to put you in a grave.” With the mantra fixed in his mind like a guiding light, Syd tightened his grip on the MP5 and retraced his bloody tracks. As soon as he broke into a run, however, he heard the door swing shut and instantly raised his gun, ready to shoot at whoever had arrived...

Interactions
Enzyme Jackson, Amato
Misty Gray Conor, Adam, Ethan
Bellz Rebel

 

[Misty Gray]

Kerry Patrick and Maddox Parker ​

Kerry listened carefully when Ani explained how the Sullivans had been able to protect her and Maddox, that they even felt safe despite being basically imprisoned by the mob. It didn't seem to fit the impression she had of the Irish. Her days being tortured and cruelly imprisoned by the Steve and Amato had broken her down, leaving her completely terrified of them. Gabriel and Rhys had then shown up, presenting even more to be fearful of. Their power and status told her there was nobody to fear more than the Morettis. That if she didn't adhere to their orders, they would easily be able to track her down and inflict even worse on her. Perhaps even let the transaction Gabriel had prevented from being finalised be completed next time, throwing her into the clutches of some perverted psychopath. Kerry believed nobody could protect her against the Morettis - not the police or the Sullivans. Her only choice had been to comply with Gabriel's orders.

When Ani mentioned how she thought the Sullivans were more forgiving than Gabriel, Kerry's eyes visibly widened as the thought seemed to gain some kind of curiosity, if not something more. Initially, Kerry felt at ease to hear the Sullivans had opportunity to kill Ani and Maddox for betraying them but hadn't gone ahead to do so. That feeling of ease soon turned into something unpleasant. Guilt. Then Ani continued to elaborate, bring up the topic of repenting. "Maybe I should be," Kerry spoke up when Ani said that she wasn't being held in the safehouse for the same reasons as Ani and Maddox were. "I don't think I'll be able to live any life after this."

Maddox could tell Kerry was holding something back from them, but he knew he had to approach it carefully. If he were to cause Kerry to become distressed, there was a chance it could be perceived as him upsetting the girl - doing the very thing Conor had warned him not to do. It didn't seem appropriate for him to directly ask her if she was hiding something. Not so early into their 'sessions', but there was clearly something she was hiding. "You're from Belfast, aren't you? I was born and raised in Dublin. I visited Belfast on a few occasions," Maddox told her. "When it's safe for you to leave here, do you think you'd ever go back there?" he asked, with a soft smile.

Kerry quickly shook her head. "No, I don't think I would. I was only there until I was ten and I liked the home I had there, but that's in the past... And I just. I can't see past these walls around us and especially not the the wall that's been built in front of me since I was kidnapped." She swallowed hard as she could see Maddox's kind eyes; his open and inviting demeanour. Without saying any words, Maddox was compelling her to keep talking, then he went ahead and asked her to tell him more about her childhood in Belfast. "I grew up with my grandparents. In Belfast, the community was very close and everyone knew each other. Church was a major part of my life. Catholic, not Protestant," Kerry elaborated, aware of related tensions in Northern Ireland. "I was kind of scared of the nuns, but most of us girls were. I was a sensible kid, so I didn't get in trouble as often as some others did. School and church there were very strict. But I don't think I was a good person out of fear of God; it was simply how my grandparents raised me and that I genuinely wanted to be good. Over the last few years, I gradually stopped believing in God at all. I realised I didn't need religion to control my actions and suffocate me, as I believed I had morals regardless. Maybe what happened to me was a punishment for turning my back on Him." She looked Ani in the eyes and awkwardly bit her lip. "You spoke of forgiveness and repentance, but what I've done, I don't think the Sullivans will forgive me for. There is a fine line between being here for my own safety and being here as their prisoner. There is no freedom for me. Not when they realise what I did."

Maddox looked to Ani with concern, wondering what she was thinking about Kerry's ominous words. He turned back to Kerry with a gentle gaze. "Kerry, what is it that makes you think the Sullivans won't let you out of here? What is it you think you've done?"

"I've led them into danger," she said, placing her hand over her mouth as she began to cry. She took in a deep breath and pulled her hand away, quickly shaking her head. "Conor has arranged some kind of job tonight that will lead him and his men into danger. They believe Mr. Moretti and some other heads of his business will be gathering at an old train station." She buried her face in her hands as she sobbed into them.

Maddox turned to Ani, signalling for her to try physically comfort the girl. Meanwhile, he knelt down on the floor in front of her, compelled to hear more, even if he would have to push her into talking. "Kerry, you need to tell us what's going on. Nobody will hurt you. Ani and I won't let that happen."

Kerry pulled her hands away from her face. She wasn't convinced the two people in the room with her could protect her, but her conscience was eating away at her, giving her no choice but to confess. "When Mr. Moretti saved me from being sold, it was only because he wanted to use my link to the Sullivans to help himself. He told me I was going to help him and if I didn't, I would be found and taken in again, that I would suffer far more than I already had. I didn't want to go through that torture all over again and I knew he meant it, that he had and his men had enough power to track me down. I believed nobody else, not even the Sullvians, could help me. I guess I still do, which is why I'm so afraid of what's going to happen to Conor and his men, and what will happen to me when everyone finds out I betrayed them."

"What have you done, Kerry?" Maddox gently asked her, showing no judgement or anger in his tone. On the inside, he was concerned about what Conor had been led into.

"When I told Conor and his family that I'd overheard the Mr. Moretti talking, it wasn't true. Mr. Moretti told me exactly what to say to the Sullivans, to pretend I'd overheard their plans for the old train station and to make it clear the heads of the Moretti family would be there. It's all a trap and those monsters are going to ambush the Sullivans." Kerry looked to Maddox and Ani, slowly shaking her head. "Aliana, Syd and Conor were all so kind to me, but all the time I had to lie to them. Now people are going to get hurt because of this."

Maddox reached out and gently took hold of Kerry's hand, looking her in the eyes as he spoke. "Kerry, this isn't your fault. You didn't believe you had any other choice but to do what Gabriel made you do. Ani and I have both had to deal with those people. We know they're not the kind of people you refuse, okay?" he said, trying his best to reassure her. His heart was racing fast in his chest as he realised Conor had walked straight into a trap. Although it might be easier to say nothing and tell Kerry to keep everything secret, the thought never entered the counsellor's head. All that he could think of was the need to stop the Irish Mob from being ambushed by the Morettis and East Harlem. "We have to tell them what's going on, Kerry. Hopefully we can warn them before it's too late." He looked to Ani before motioning to the door. "Ani, please get a guard's attention. Tell them we need to speak with Adam or whoever's in charge in here tonight. We have to tell them they're being set up."

"Oh God. They're going to kill me," Kerry began to sob. She wasn't even sure which "they" she meant. Right now she felt like both the Morettis and the Sullivans would want to harm her.

Bellz (Ani)
Mentions: Pyroclast (Chase)

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Theodore Wycliff

Teddy saw it, that hesitation to allow him to touch her at all and he berated himself for even doing so. It was too late to take it back, but when he saw her relax he did the same. He had to remember his promise to be slow with her, to ease into the normal stuff couples did. If anything he wanted to make good on his promise to help her heal, to make her see he was going to change for her. There was something about the fear and unsettled look in her eyes that made Teddy want to hurt the person responsible. She couldn't get the words out, completely unnerved by whatever had transpired before she and Elvian entered the office. When she finally was ready all he heard was Steve. "What about him, Tin?" He had a bad feeling about what was going to follow behind Steve.

Elvian spoke for her daughter, first in her rapid fire Romanian. Teddy only understood a few cuss words, having been on the receiving end on a few of them. His boss, however, seemed to understand a lot of what he was saying so he waited for a translation. There was a brief moment while Elvian took a deep breath that Teddy took to wrap his arms around Valentina and hug her closer. He was trying his best to calm her down before turning his attention back to Elvian listening as she explained again, this time in English. That bad feeling he had settled in as it was revealed Steve was the one involved in Valentina's attack. He frowned, brow furrowed as he looked down to the girl in his arms then back at his boss. Was he hearing that correctly? Was the man who Gabriel trusted the person behind his soon to be girlfriend's attack? There was no way he would be that stupid, that much of a menace to attack her would he? But, thinking about how she was currently reacting and the sureness in Elvian's voice made it clear this wasn't a mistaken accusation.

With Valentina's final confirmation he could feel the mood in the room change and he was contributing to that. Along with her parents, Theodore was pissed and he could see Gabriel was as well by the look in his eyes. Feeling her move in his arms, he turned his attention back to her and kissed the top of her forehead. "I'm right here, Tin." Even though he wanted to rage out, he knew he couldn't with Valentina in his arms so he focused his energy on keeping her comforted. So many thoughts were going through his head, mostly to do with how he was going to hurt Steve. Teddy didn't like Steve as a man or a person, but more like a pawn. He was good for getting the job done but that was all he was good for and often tried to steer clear of him. There were very few people he did like, but Steve and Ethan were not those few. "


Elvian Moretti

Figuratively speaking, steam was coming out of Elvian's ears when she had finished speaking. How dare these men betray her family? Hurt her daughter then smile in their faces afterwards? They'd kill innocent men just to cover their dirty track and it was all despicable to her. She watched with raging fury in her eyes as her husband ask Valentina once more for confirmation. Elvian moved her hand to her hip and another to the back of her neck as she started growing tense. "Îl vreau mort și la șase picioare în jos. Do you hear me? Six goddamn feet, Gabriel." Her eyes were brimming with tears, grateful her husband hugged her when he did. She didn't want her daughter to see her in that state, the 'I'm so angry I just want to cry' state. A part of her wanted to yell at her husband, blaming him for bringing them around their family in the first place but knew better. It wasn't his fault and her doing so was going to help no one. She knew he was just as upset as the rest of the company present in the room so placing the blame wasn't necessary.

Elvian shook her head at his question, trying her best to remember. He had looked at the clock and she wished she had done the same but she was too distracted. "I don't remember the time. Immediately after they left your office? Add a few minutes to that perhaps since our interaction was so brief... But Ethan he was adamant about getting to your final task on time. They tried to be friendly with their stupid smiles and their stupid faces and their-..." She trailed off, her face twisting into one of disgust. "He had the audacity to tell her to feel better." She had to stop herself before she went on another tangent. "Valentina was about to have an attack, so she reached for her pills and they were rounding the corner and the son-of-a-bitch bumped into her. He helped her up and when they left that's when she realized... That nenorocitule told her to feel better. I want him fed to the dogs!" They didn't even have dogs, the dog she did have was a purse dog and was in no way capable of eating a human. "We'll grind him up and feed him to Ethan, that's what we'll do!"
​

 

[Enzyme]

Jackson McCarthy & Amato Castello​

The gunfire ensued like a blinding symphony of death, as small, orange flashes exploded throughout the room, heavily opacified by the dense, rich gas. Jackson clenched his balled fist around Syd's chest like a father in a car who had instinctively shot his hand out across his son to prepare for a sharp stop. Bullets, glass, shells, they all poured down for the smoke like rain. Keeping his ducked as low as possible, Jackson raised his Mac-10 above Syd's back, aiming to the direction of the shrouded ticket booths.

He slammed back the trigger as if it were the only thing keeping his heart beating and indiscriminately lined both windows with holes. With the tracers loaded into his magazine, streaks of red lines ripped through the vapor, before connecting with the fragile glass divider between them and the two armed assailants. The first glass pane splintered like wood, before a crimson wave of liquid shot up on the other side. The second window remained blood-free, yet when the glass blew out behind the booth, bits of brain scattered the opposite wall by the front doors.

Jackson's finger slipped to the mag-well release as his other hand smoothly glided to the pocket of his hazmat suit. Gripping another 30-round magazine, he slapped it inside, before slapping the slide forward with the palm of his hand.

The ear-splitting shootout hadn't lost momentum, and through the blindness, stray bullets would strike the floor beside them, blowing bits of concrete in the air. Jackson crawled over the various Sullivan bodies, some pushing themselves into the ground to avoid being hit, and some lifeless, lying in a collecting pool of blood. Once he was able to reach the duffel bag, narrowly ducking out of Moretti crosshairs, Jackson grabbed a handful of tear gas canisters and began ripping the pins out as if they were firecrackers. He then tossed the canisters through the openings of the doors at the Moretti soldiers' feet.

Amato pushed over behind Ethan, burying his face into his coat as he open-fired with his sawed-off shotgun. As the bullets flew around him, Amato pinned his round frame as close as he could to the wall, leaving only his barrel sticking out over the door. "Jesus fuckin' christ!" Amato tortuously squinted through his dripping, bloodshot, eyes. He couldn't take it anymore, the gas was tearing into his eyeballs, and to even hold out the gun to fire was like shoving his face in hot coals. He momentarily dropped his grip around the shotgun pump and shoved his fingers to his eyelids, pushing up his glasses to his forehead.

As more canisters rolled through the door, Amato fell back like they were hand grenades primmed to explode. "Get back!" Amato snarled as the gas spewed out the hissing lid. "Fuck! Get back!" The hissing sound was almost as horrendous as the physical burning, like a broadcast alarm forecasting impending doom. Amato rolled back down the hall as his snot mixed with his stringing salvia. He felt the back of his tongue slide down his throat as he gasped for air. "Fuckin' shit! What is all this?" He shouted in anger before he was silenced by the fumes closing his throat.

The pained coughs and sputters were followed by a brief lull in the gunfire. Picking up on this, Jackson didn't waste a moment in scattering to his hands and knees, seeing this as their only chance to possibly escape out of No Man's Land. "Oi! Fuckin' scatter!" Jackson shouted through his respirator, before pressing his knuckles off the ground and sprinting off the bloodied concrete. In that moment, the group of surviving Sullivans split like an apple - with few springing down the Employee corridor, Jackson included, and the rest diving through the Public corridor.

It seemed that the sudden departure came without a second to waste, as directly after Jackson's order the gunfire picked up again in full force, tearing up the security office as if it were a piece of sheet metal.

Misty Gray (Conor/Adam/Ethan) Pyroclast (Tatiana/Steve/Syd) Bellz (Rebel)

 

[Bellz]

Ani Sarraf​

Ani's brows furrowed in confusion as Kerry stated that she thought she wouldn't be able to live any life after this. Listening with interest, Maddox got the woman to talk about her childhood in Ireland, seeming to be easing her into revealing something more than what she was willing to let on at that moment. She was so close to saying what she needed to and finally at the end of her story, she revealed that she had done something.

Maddox looked her way with concern in his eyes and Ani's own expression reflected his. He then turned back to the woman and asked flat out what she had done and instantly the woman began to cry, stating that she led the Sullivans into danger. The hairs on Ani's arms rose as a chill ran down her spine as she worried what the girl had gotten herself into, the Sullivans were better people than Moretti or EH but that kindness would only extend so far.

Maddox signaled for Ani to comfort the girl physically and Ani nodded her head. Though she was different before meeting Maddox not one for understanding affection, he had shown her unintentionally how to comfort those who needed help through just being there for her. Ani moved to sit down beside Kerry, taking the woman gently in her arms and rubbing her shoulder and back lightly. Maddox reassured the girl that Ani and himself wouldn't let anything happen to the girl and despite knowing that Ani would do her very best, if the mob wanted something done with Kerry, there wasn't much they could do.

But she knew it was a way of getting her to calm down so she could reveal what she had done so Ani nodded her head in reassurance. Finally, Kerry revealed that she had lied to the Sullivans, that Gabriel had forced her to lie to them with threats. Ani looked to Maddox again as he reassured the girl, wondering if there was something they could do.

Once he turned to her, he motioned towards the door to let the guards know that the Sullivans were walking into a trap and Ani was quick on her feet. Even though she was on the inside of the apartment, she still knocked until someone opened the door. After telling the guard the situation, the man looked at her with a grave expression before slamming the door in her face after getting all the information he needed. Ani turned back towards Maddox and Kerry, genuinely worried now for the girl's life and for the lives of those who went out on that mission tonight.
with: Maddox + Kerry Misty Gray

Rebel Holt​

Despite the joking in the beginning, once it was time to enter the station, all laughter and lightheartedness had ceased to exist. Rebel focused hard on clearing her thoughts, not allowing the heaviness in her chest to distract her from the job at hand. Her job was clear tonight and if she went so far as to give into her anxieties, everything could go wrong. So she remained confident as they walked in through the entrance but as soon as they entered the station without any problems, Rebel knew something was up. With the cue from Jackson, the tear gas was released, concealing them in a cloud of protective smoke for the time being. They continued on into the security checkpoint area and Rebel rotated in a small circle, stepping lightly as she scoped out the area the best she could. There was no one, which was very unexpected. Her eyes looked to Adam for a moment wondering if he was just as confused as her. Hugging her gun closer to her chest, she kept her finger hovered above the trigger. Shaking her head slightly as if to get rid of the slight panic that was starting to invade her thoughts, Rebel stepped slightly ahead of Adam and Conor, peering to the right and then the left door. Jackson then raised his fist and Rebel stopped immediately along with the rest of the group from moving forward.

Hearing someone clearly having a hard time breathing, Rebel twisted her head to look behind her but before she could say anything to the men near her, the doors in front of them slammed and Jackson threw himself back, sending man after man tumbling towards the floor, effectively knocking Rebel to the floor with a smack. The air was knocked out of her lungs but the woman was quick to recover as she started firing ahead of her. Though she couldn't see exactly where she was firing, the woman hoped it was efficient enough as she moved to get on her knees, still keeping herself low to the ground in a ball.

Jackson picked up on the lull in gunfire and ordered the team to scatter. Rebel hopped up onto her feet with ease, moving a hand behind her to reach out to Adam to signal for him and Conor to get the fuck up before shout, "This way!!" Not skipping a beat, she sprinted towards the right door before flinging it open, hearing footsteps behind her, she was sure the men were following her. The gunfire returned in the security checkpoint but things were far quieter in the public corridor. Rebel slowed down to a stalk as she looked to make sure who was behind her, turning her body to face the door they had just come through. "Up front! Check the area!" She ordered the two guards who had fallen behind Adam and Conor, not wanting to risk the boss getting riddled with bullets when they had two capable men who were willing to risk their lives first. Rebel took her position behind Conor and Adam as she continued to walk backward, her gun still aimed at the door they had previously walked through. The two Sullivan guards were busy kicking indoors to check the area but so far no one was with them.

They walked as far as the waiting area and when Rebel was sure that no one was following them, she turned to the men briefly. "Switch. Take the back, Adam and I will take the front again. Watch that door."" She ordered before slowly backing up, her eyes watching the door until the two men took their positions behind Adam and Conor once more before heading to the front.
with: Adam + Conor Misty Gray
mentions: Jackson Enzyme ; Syd Pyroclast

 

[Misty Gray]

Conor Sullivan and Adam Harper​

Whilst down in the floor, Adam rested on his elbows as he relentlessly fired out towards corridor 38.1ft where barrages of bullets aimed at the Sullivans had originated. He was confident a few fatal shots had been delivered before being forced to stop and reload. "You're up, Boss," Adam spoke up as he detached the empty magazine and fumbled to reload. Conor had been quick to oblige, hating being shielded when he wanted to pull his own weight. He fired at the enemy, hoping to take as many down as he could, or at least keep them back from advancing. He was aware of the dead bodies of the comrades around him. Even if he couldn't see them in any detail, he could sense the death in the air and he could feel the wet pool of another man's blood as it soaked into the material of his trousers at one knee.

Even though they were all thinking it was time to bolt from the line of fire, the sound of Jackson's voice during a lull in gunfire ordering everyone to scatter was enough to spring those still alive into action. Conor was relieved to have heard his best friend's voice, but he hadn't heard from Syd. He only hoped his nephew was still at Jackson's side. Rebel's voice was heard as she signalled towards the right door. "I'm right behind you, Boss. Fucking go!" Adam firmly assured Conor, nudging him to move first. Even when focused on his mission, Adam could tell Conor was reluctant to let his employees take the risks in protecting him.

Conor kept his submachine gun held up and ready to aim as he sprinted behind Rebel away from the security checkpoint. Adam was close behind, having grabbed the attention of two more comrades to point them in the direction they were headed. Safety in numbers. Once they were in the quieter public corridor, they were able to take a short moment to take in their surroundings without bullets flying past them. "You know you don't have to babysit me," Conor grumbled, taking the opportunity to reload. In reality, he appreciated their loyalty. He was frustrated about the ambush and the fact a number of his employees had just been slaughtered by bullets. He hoped his nephew wasn't one of the men bleeding out.

As the two guards moved to walk ahead, Adam joined Rebel in keeping eyes and guns aimed at the door they had just entered through. "This is what you pay us for and I ain't having a fucking dead mob boss on my watch. You were here to kill Moretti, but clearly that's not happening tonight, so fall back," Adam grumbled back at Conor. He understood the man's need to be on the front line, but he and Rebel couldn't allow it. On Rebel's word, Adam moved back up front with her whilst the two guards moved to once again cover the door that was currently between them and the death & chaos they'd just escaped. There was a brief moment of inactivity that allowed Adam to acknowledge the pain in his arm caused by a bullet grazing through the flesh of his bicep. He glanced to his arm but the fact he could still operate his weapon meant giving the bleeding wound any further attention was low on his list of priorities. He retracted any attention from his wound and focused back on the task at hand.

Despite having two men covering behind him as well as Adam and Rebel doing so in front, Conor made sure he kept his guard up. Whilst keeping his gun held up in line with his shoulder ready to fire if needed, he made sure to keep checking on those behind him as well as in front.

Bellz (Rebel) Pyroclast (Steve, Tatiana)

*********

~ Ethan Turner ~
​

With tear gas being sent towards his group, Ethan took a few controlled steps back. He pulled the neck of his t-shirt up from beneath his outer layers of clothes and dragged it up to rest over his mouth and nose. He suspected it wouldn't do much good for long once caught in the middle of expanding clouds of gas, but it might buy him a little more time to breathe clearly. Steve being Steve wasn't about to stand around any longer to give it consideration and the younger man rushed straight into the centre of the action, firing indiscriminately at the enemy.

Ethan followed behind Steve but remained dropped back to consider his surrounding. Hearing the younger man call back about shooting whatever moves, Ethan felt like he'd taken the words right out of his mouth. "Already on it, my brother," he said, albeit in a sense of respect rather than in a literal sense of siblings. Ethan then made a point of keeping his mouth clamped shut beneath his shirt so as to minimise the gas entering his airways. 'Where's that lanky Sullivan bastard?' he thought to himself as he seemed to have lost track of where the man he'd presumed to be Conor was.

A bullet in the throat of a Sullivan gang member caused the man to collapse in a heap at Ethan's feet. Ethan looked downwards but dropped back as the clouds of gas grew thicker. He was sure he'd seen a figure or two escape through the door leading to the employee corridor. Ethan had a brief coughing spell as the tear gas has seeped through his shirt into his mouth and nose. With his Uzi held firmly in his right hand, he raised his left forearm to cover his eyes for a moment as he listened to Amato. They soon rushed back behind the doors to avoid the further onslaught of gas canisters. Ethan took a moment to regain full composure and nudged Amato as the man struggled with his breathing. "Try not to talk so much," he offered up his advice before coughing for another brief time.

Ethan's eyes were raw and stinging, but there was no chance he would back down during the biggest chance to wipe out the Sullivans for good. Noticing a relative silence as the Irish still alive had scattered, he looked to some of his colleagues. "Cover me," he ordered but held his hand out in from of Amato for the man to stay put. Briefly pinching the corners of his own watering eyes, Ethan returned to the clouded area that only a minute ago had been alive with the chorus of gunfire but now had something of an eerie silence. His vision was temporarily weakened and caught him to close his eyes for a moment, but Ethan could retrace his steps to where a dying man had earlier fallen at his feet. His boot soon knocked against the head of the man in question who was still gasping beneath his respirator as the life slowly left him in a pool of his own blood. Ethan stamped his boot down hard on the man's chest, putting a painful amount of weight down onto the already suffering soldier's ribcage. Ethan then bent over and with little regard for the man's neck or face, dragged the mask off of his head. There had been a fleeting temptation to put a bullet in his skull to bring his suffering to a quicker end, but Ethan wouldn't do anything to ease the enemy's anguish

Ethan wasted little time before putting the respirator over his own face. Though his eyes were stinging and gas remained in his airways, he was at least assured it wouldn't get too much worse now. He took a moment to walk the area, his gun aimed ready to fire on the first sign of movement. Once he located another body on the floor, Ethan removed the mask from the face of the corpse before returning to Amato. "Merry Fucking Christmas," he spoke as he handed the mask to Amato to wear, his voice now somewhat muffled from beneath the respirator. He hadn't got the respirator for Amato out of concern or charity, but through the simple belief of safety in numbers. "Get yourself together and come with me. Some of the pricks have headed down the employee corridor," he informed him. "We're going hunting."

Enzyme (Amato)
Mentions: Enzyme (Jackson) Pyroclast (Syd)

 

[Misty Gray]

Gabriel and Valentina Moretti​

Gabriel nodded along as Elvian explained what had happened out in the reception area. It seemed like Steve and Ethan had put on a friendly act whilst interacting with the women. "They won't be smiling for much longer, I promise you that," he assured his wife. Hearing that Steve had the nerve to address Valentina, as far as to tell her to feel better after he was the one to harm her in the first place, only deepened Gabriel's anger further. There were a million ways to make Steve suffer and so the only difficult part of torturing the man would be deciding with methods to use in doing so. Gabriel shook his head when Elvian spoke of feeding Steve to the dogs. "Even the dogs wouldn't want to eat that piece of shit," he bitterly told her. Still, the next suggestion of feeding Steve to Ethan didn't draw any argument from Gabriel. "I swear, those bastards will pay for this. They will be killed, but they will suffer first. They will beg for death."

Teddy's embrace gave Valentina a greater sense of security and when he kissed her forehead, she didn't flinch or move away from the reassuring gesture. She listened on as her parents expressed their anger and desire for revenge. She couldn't judge them for it when such thoughts were embedded in her mind too. She wanted Steve to suffer and a part of her wanted to be there when he did, to see him in pain and vulnerable just as he and Isac had seen her. She wanted to see him stripped of his confidence and control. But another part of her asked the same questions she knew her parents would. Was she prepared to be witness to the kind of horrific torture everyone in the room was wishing to be inflicted upon Steve and Ethan?

Valentina felt overwhelmed, though not by talks of gruesome punishments for the men who had betrayed the family. The whole ordeal of standing face-to-face with Steve and the panic attack left her feeling exhausted. She looked to the sofas in the lounge area of the penthouse apartment before nudging Teddy's arm for him to follow her. She sat on the couch and wasted no time in reaching for the brandy-filled decanter. She invited Teddy to sit next to her as she helped herself to her father's alcohol, pouring an over-generous amount of liquor into a glass tumbler. She knocked back a long drink, sucking in a breath as the strong alcohol burned down the back of her throat. She then placed the glass down before slumping back into the sofa and shuffling closer to Teddy. She'd been worried she'd be afraid to get close to him, but some about Teddy made her feel safe and comfortable with him. It wasn't just that she was very attracted to him, but his genuine concern for her safety and fondness towards her drew her in to him. She took hold of his hand and rested her head on his shoulder as she gazed towards her parents in the distance. "If you're getting second thoughts, now's the best time to address them," she quietly told Teddy. She couldn't blame him if he was. She couldn't think of many circumstances less ideal than these for a man just entering a relationship. A damaged partner and her furious parents. Friendly conversations replaced with talks of violent revenge. Surely he wanted to run a mile by now

Gabriel watched Valentina and Teddy move to the lounge area. Noticing his daughter helping herself to his expensive brandy would normally evoke some kind of lecture or irritated reaction from the man. Instead, he had no intention of addressing it. If his daughter wanted a strong drink then he wasn't about to stand in the way of that, not after what she had been through. Gabriel brought his mind back to the matter of punishing Steve and Ethan. Presently, they would be partaking in the ambushing of the Sullivans and that was something he couldn't interrupt. There was a precise and careful plan in place which he could jeopardise, not even in the name of getting revenge on his daughter's attacker. To do so would not only ruin the plan but it could result in many of his employees being killed by the Irish.

With Elvian still by his side, Gabriel called into the apartment one of his most trusted employees so he could delegate his orders. "I want eyes on the train station. Once the job is complete, I want Steve and Ethan followed. I want them unaware they're under surveillance and unable to flee this city. I also want Alistair watched closely so he too can be dealt with." Gabriel folded his arms as he kept the other man waiting in silence for additional instructions. "And have someone get in touch with Rhys. He needs to be updated on the situation." Once the employee had left them alone, Gabriel looked to Elvian with a stern gaze as he tried to hide the guilt he had inside. "East Harlem were always going to be a concern once the war with the Irish was over. I suspected they would eventually want more power for themselves. But this has forced my hand into acting now. It appears those freaks need eradicating ahead of schedule."

Melanin-Gxdess (Teddy, Elvian)

 

[Misty Gray]

Jasmine Carpenter
Maddox Parker and Kerry Patrick​

Jasmine smiled when Chase agreed to take her out on a date. When he suggested doing so that weekend, she didn't even hesitate to nod her head in approval. "I would like that. It's a date!" she confirmed to him. Her smiled had broadened by that point. She was sure her father would accuse her of going soft if he could see her now, but she didn't even care. It was rare to feel as happy and excited about the future as she did in that moment, so she was going to fully embrace it while she could.

When Chase informed her he was the artist behind the paintings in his apartment, Jasmine was both surprised and impressed. It wasn't that she had any kind of assumptions about Chase's capabilities and skills, but being an artist was not something she would have guessed about him. "They're yours?! That's amazing," she enthused, waiting for him to bring his modest eyes away from the table and back to her. "Well, it's a beautiful hobby. I'm no expert on art, but I actually think you're a skilled painter, so you don't need to be modest about it," she assured him. She softly smiled as he spoke about his work being based on his life in Cuba, memories New York failed to evoke.

Jasmine took Chase's hand when he offered it to her. He made a comment about her going to Cuba with him. "I'd really like to go to Cuba... with you," she said, looking him in the eyes. "New York is good, but it would be nice to get away even for a few days. I'm kind of jealous you took Adam with you the other day, instead of me," she joked. She was sure by now Chase knew she had no issues with how things had gone down with her being imprisoned by Ethan, so she expected he would take it as lightly as intended. "Are there any flights schedules on Zegarra Airways soon?" she hinted,

When asked about her own pass-times, Jasmine gazed down to the table for a time. The fact the things that first sprang to mind all involved her job brought to the forefront of her thoughts how much she'd sacrificed having a life of her own. Even her interests in athletics and cars were all founded on skills she'd had to development for her work. "I like watching movies, though it's been a long time since I watched any at the movie theatre and not just at home in front of the TV," she told him. "When I was a kid, I used to enjoy crafting and woodwork... Wow, I sound really boring, huh? I guess I never had much opportunity to pursue my own interests. Or encouragement," she trailed off. Her father's focus had always been on training her and she felt like her mother had always wanted a princess for a daughter. A girl who would dress up as a fairy and play with dolls. Any personal interests were never really encouraged or noticed by Jasmine's parents.

Jasmine let out a small laugh, hoping to show Chase it wasn't a sensitive subject and that he didn't need to feel awkward for asking. Luckily, they were interrupted when the door was abruptly opened. Jasmine quickly let go of Chase's hand and looked up to see the guard standing in the doorway. "The shrink and his girlfriend need to talk to you," the guard told Chase and Jasmine. "They reckon the big job the others are out on is a setup by the Morettis."

Pyroclast (Chase)

***********​

Along with Chase, Jasmine entered the apartment Maddox had been living in for the last few months. Her eyes immediately moved to Kerry, seeing the young woman looked distraught. "Kerry, are you okay? Do you want to go back to Simone?" she asked with concern. She and Chase had been briefed to take action at the first sign of Maddox manipulating Kerry. She sent Maddox a suspicious glare, still reluctant to trust anything the counsellor said after the harm he'd brought upon her employers and their loved ones.

"No. No, I want to stay with Maddox and Ani. Please. I want to stay in here," Kerry worriedly told Jasmine. After what she'd just revealed about her betraying the Sullivans, she only felt safe with Maddox and Ani.

Maddox stood up and maintained an open, non-confrontational demeanor as he stepped towards Chase and Jasmine. "Whoever is on that mission to ambush the Morettis tonight is walking straight into a trap. Kerry was forced by Gabriel to give Conor information the Morettis knew would lead you all into a trap." Maddox went on to explain more of the details Kerry had told him and Ani. He then looked Chase in the eyes, hoping to keep the focus away from any thoughts of blaming Kerry. "You need to call off whatever Conor has planned before it's too late." When Jasmine spoke up to say the plan was already in action, Maddox's eyes widened. "Then they're going to need all of the help they can get," he worriedly told them. Months ago, the idea of the Porter and Sullivans being lured into a trap and killed would have pleased Maddox greatly, but now there was no part of him that revelled in that thought. He wanted the Irish Mob to make it out in one piece, and in the long-term, he wanted them to win the war against the Morettis.

Kerry stood up, staying close between Ani and Maddox as she looked to Chase. After choking back her tears she addressed the man. "I did hear some things that Mr. Moretti didn't intend for me to know..." She paused as she thought back, wanting to make sure she gave accurate information that could help the Sullivans. "They spoke of a sewer system as some kind of hidden way in and out of the station. Accessible from a manhole cover on the train platform. I don't think they wanted me or Conor to know about that." She wasn't sure if it would be useful at all, but it had seemed important to the Morettis.

Pyroclast (Chase) Bellz (Ani)

 

[Pyroclast]

Jason Costello

A lifetime of swindling had taught Jason how to put on the charm, but it wasn’t until he fell in love with Gwen that it ever came out naturally. She wasn’t one of his marks like most of the people he had smiled for in the past. All he wanted from her was her love, and now that the pair had got over all the secrets and the lies, he had no intention of earning it illegitimately. Every word that he said now was genuine - as genuine as the tears that sprung from her eyes. Jason’s smile stretched to its limit as he observed her emotional reaction, his own eyes gleaming with total adoration.

He was so relaxed that not even the arrival of the waiter took his attention off Gwen, and he only murmured a quiet “thanks” when his drink was placed down in front of him. He caught a waft of Gwen’s wine, but he was too happy for it to draw back memories. At that moment, he didn’t believe anything could spoil his mood. Bringing her knuckles back to his lips, Jason cocked his head thoughtfully before emitting a somewhat apologetic chuckle. Knowing that he had instilled such conflict within her for still having feelings for him of course made him feel guilty, but at the same time, he couldn’t regret anything that ultimately led him to what he had with her now. “Well, I didn’t deserve that kind of attachment from you, the way I treated ye’, like…” he said delicately. The dainty hand he held to his mouth still showed some scarring from where he had broken it during one of their fierce disputes. “We are where we are now - thank the stars above - but I do wish I hadn’t made ye’ suffer so. I was a feckin’ bollix back then and I amn’t proud of it. But you, you have nothin’ at all t’be sorry for, Gwen. Nothin’ at all.”

It was strange to consider the depths of their relationship back when they first met. For the lasting impact she had made on him, and clearly that he had made on her, too, anyone would have thought that they had dated for years. But she was right, it really had only been a number of weeks. Jason’s eyes turned wistful at the memory of it; in retrospect, it had just been a messy, passionate romance that ended as quickly as it had begun, like one a person might experience on holiday. Their relationship was much different, now - the passion was still there, of course, but Jason understood that they were together for more reasons than purely fate: they had true love, compatibility, maturity. He raised an eyebrow when she told him that it was good that he wasn’t like other men because previously, he had never exactly seen that as a good thing. If he wasn’t like other men, then she could have found a much more reliable, stable, honest, and wealthy man by now - someone with a job and no criminal record. Still, it showed what was important to her: not riches, nor status - just love and dedication. And he had plenty of that for her and Lorelei.

The waiter came over to take their order then, and when Jason scanned the menu he realised it had never occurred to him that going sober probably meant avoiding dishes with alcohol in them, too. He had learned from his old partner in crime, Pierre, that it was typically French to add alcohol to sauces: white wine, red wine, cognac... He gazed at the list with a look of someone who couldn’t read, until finally settling on an innocent salmon salad. When the waiter left he gave Gwen a shrug and gratefully settled back into listening to her.

Jason instinctively reached for her hand once again when she became emotional. “Shh…” he uttered, shaking his head lightly. “I know, baby, but ye’ couldn’t help it, could you? Lorelei always knew you loved her, and me, well...I wasn’t even expectin' t'be a priority to you. Seein’ ye’ that way just made me realise how much you meant t’me, that's all.” She went on speaking, and he couldn’t help but shake his head when she called herself selfish for falling prey to her addiction. But he didn’t manage to challenge her on it before she excited him with news of an audition. “Gwen, that’s fantastic! What’s the role?” His eyes lit up with enthusiasm as he gave her hand a congratulatory squeeze. “Aye, it is hard to know how that will affect us goin' forward. We weren’t well, then, of course, but fuck if they’ll care about that.” He chuckled, then sighed as a drop of concern threatened the optimism he had built. “Anyway. It’s admirable to be gettin’ back on your feet so soon. Persistence and determination will get ye’ somewhere in the end, and despite everything, Gwen, your passion clearly hasn’t faded. I see ye’ makin’ it big out here, y’know. I see us...” He turned her hand over and began to inspect it, cocking his head as he traced along the lines of her palm. Coming up to a certain point in her ‘life line’, his finger stopped. “There we are, out there on the big stage, makin’ headlines. See there? We’re coming home every day to our little place, you and I - we have breakfast together every morning, dinner every night, and there, look, there’s Rory teachin’ us things she’s after learnin’ at school. There’s our cat - Jaysus, we definitely overfed him - and there’s us goin’ on holiday together.” He whisked his finger up to the end of the line with a quiet whistle and punctuated it with a light, conclusive tap. Though his voice was steady and relaxed as he gazed lovingly at her, his swelling heart was anything but. “I’ll be honest, Gwen - I didn’t really know what family life could be until I met yours. That Thanksgiving, that really opened my eyes. It showed me what I never knew I was missin’. If we can get back on our feet now, after all that’s happened, then sure we can do anythin’, get to anywhere we want... So let’s just let ourselves dream now. Tell me what you want from the future.”

Interactions
Bellz Gwen

 

[Pyroclast]

Syd Porter

The second he saw the gas masks on the figures Syd relaxed his grip. The thought that it could be the enemy in disguise didn’t even cross his mind, but thankfully that didn’t matter, because he soon made out Jackson’s eyes through the dirty shield. With all the gunfire echoing from down the hall, there wasn’t time to express his relief to see his Godfather alive, but he still drew himself closer to him and reach out to pat his chest. “It’s a dead end,” he explained, shaking his head. “There’s no other way, Jackson, we’ve gotta go back in. The others need us.” Of course, he had no idea how many of the others were left, but it wasn't safe to assume anything. Whether or not he had anyone fighting alongside him, he still felt he was in a better position now that he was on his feet.

Any pauses in the gunfire were filled with the sound of choking but if the tear gas was affecting the enemy, it wasn’t enough to stop them from firing. Heaps of bodies lay slumped over each other across the floor of the security checkpoint, tear gas floating over them like fog in a graveyard. Keeping his gun raised, Syd followed the wall towards the source of the noise. Just as he was about to open fire, some masked figures jumped in his way and he stiffened from the shock of almost shooting his comrades. But they didn't slow down on the approach. Syd didn't manage to get a look at who was behind the masks before they launched at them with guns primed and ready. Without time to see where Jackson went, Syd rushed behind the nearest door to give himself some cover.

When he realised that nobody had followed him, that he was once again separated from his Godfather and any other backup, Syd’s mind went blank with fear and guilt that he had left them behind. An explosion of gunfire startled him back into motion and it was only then that he noticed what he had dived into. The room was shrouded in darkness, only a sliver of moonlight coming through a clerestory window obscured by mould and filth. All he could make out were shapes - upturned filing cabinets, broken tables and chairs, cupboards, ceiling tiles, boxes, buckets, sacks, pipes and wooden beams and so much other debris that the floor moved under his feet when he strode deeper into the room. The firing beyond the door was intensifying by the second, closing in on him like the heavy footsteps of a monster. It was so overpowering that even inside his echoing mask Syd couldn’t hear himself hyperventilate. His vision was already so obscured by the gloom that the thick tears in his eyes barely made it harder to see. Beyond the reach of the moonlight, Syd rushed to get down onto his stomach and slid himself under a collapsed cupboard, pulling a burlap sack over him with just enough of a gap to fit a bullet through. Though he kept his gun aimed through the hole, Syd knew that the explosive gunfire meant he was sorely outnumbered and that if they found him, he wouldn’t stand a chance at surviving. Jackson was probably dead, and as for the others, he had little hope for their lives at this point, either. This was how he was going to die: alone, outnumbered, and cowering in a filthy, unfamiliar pit of darkness.

Interactions
Enzyme Jackson, Amato
Misty Gray Ethan

 

[Enzyme]

Jackson McCarthy​

Jackson's shoulder collided against the door like a primed battering ram. For a moment, the door caught on something, perhaps a stray piece of debris. It had only defied Jackson's motion for a split second before the sheer power behind his shoulder blew the doors right open and nearly off their hinges. Once inside, Jackson and the two other men pulled their behinds away from the side entrance to the hallway, just as the onslaught of gunfire commenced. Jackson tried desperately to catch his breath, but the slow, mechanical breathing from his mask caused him to choke and sputter as it struggled to filter the air in rhythm with Jackson's air demand. As his hands raised off of his knees, he stared into the barrel of a rifle momentarily. Behind the rifle and robotic mask laid two silver, wide orbs, orbs that could only belong to his godson. At that realization, his head sunk back down, relieved for just a moment that everyone in the hallway was okay.

Just as Syd finished his sentence, the gunfire ceased, leaving only the thud sounds of falling asbestos ceiling and sprinkles of glass tardily collapsing to echo down the halls. The hushed sounds of bickering seeped through the cracks of the double door, undoubtedly escaping the lips of Moretti soldiers, finally poking their heads out of their shells. After putting the pieces together, Jackson's head shot back to Syd, pushing his hand close to the ground. "There's a time for being a hero, and there's a time for keeping your head in one piece. I'm not losing you here," Jackson leveled through a hushed tone. The sounds of boots crushing glass momentarily derailed him, as they seemed to be creeping up the security checkpoint. At this point, Jackson was certain that if their position hadn't already been compromised, it was sure to be at any moment. With the brief moment of silence, Syd took it upon himself to push forward, despite Jackson's words. "Syd! Syd!" Jackson called out for him.

He followed after his godson in a quick, yet silenced goose-step. "Can you fuckin' holldup' a second, mate?" Jackson hissed, his gun tucked tightly into his shoulder. While he'd much rather hang back and put a coherent plan together, there was no way in hell he was about to let Syd walk back out there alone. "We need to just put our heads together and come up wit' a rea-" before Jackson could finish his sentence, the double doors busted open, with a string of toxic tear gas spilling behind black boots. Jackson recognized the respirators as their own, yet the street close and leather jackets were certainly not there's.

The first round caught the Sullivan to the left of Jackson directly in the sternum, blowing a quarter-sized hole clean through him. The blood from his lips shot up to coat the fogged-up glass lenses, and the force of the round glued him to the floor below.

Jackson's head instinctively ducked behind the cover of the nearest door, the remaining Sullivan soldier running into the room past him. In a narrow slit of cover, Jackson returned fire at the group of Moretti thugs, but he was soon overwhelmed by the superior amount of gunpower, as the door frame around him was chewed up by 5.56 rounds. With no other option, Jackson bobbed into the room with the tag "HOS Office".

Pyroclast (Syd) Misty Gray (Ethan)

*************
Amato Castello​

Amato desperately rubbed the sleeves of his jacket around his eyes, trying his damndest to rub the poison away. "Fuck you!" Amato responded to Ethan under the order to 'cover him'. As much as Amato would love to imagine he was a hardened soldier, he was sure having a hard time keeping it together. At the moment, he didn't care what his fellow gangsters thought of him, he just wanted this gas out of his throat. While he was scraping the fire from his eyes, he looked up through his blurry lids to see a respirator being handed to him. Without so much as a 'thank you', he snatched the gas mask and quickly snapped it around his head. The first few breaths were heaven, like stepping into an air-conditioned room, away from the blistering heat of a summer's day. "Ahhhh," Amato let out a pent-up sigh, reveling in the moment of serenity. The other Moretti goons followed in suit, looking to the deceased Sullivans for their own respirators. Amato stood still as the men passed by him, not letting go of this moment for anyone.

Once Amato had cleared every trace of venom from his lungs, he cocked his shotgun back and followed after Ethan, who had already pushed up to the door. He shouldered his way through the men around them, looking through the small glass window through the double door. There he could see them, the surviving Sullivans - huddled in the hallway like rats. They looked as if they were preparing to come back out; big mistake.

Amato pushed the doors open, throwing his shotgun down into his hands. There, the Sullivans stood stiff, undoubtedly caught red-handed. "Welcome to da' party, assholes!" One of the Moretti's made quick work of the Sullivan in front of them, blowing him right off his feet. The rest of the Sullivans scattered for cover in the various rooms around them.

As Amato stepped forward, the man to his left was shot to pieces, seemingly out of nowhere. He couldn't see where the rounds were coming from, but a few of his goons had caught on, and fired upon the "HOS office", until the Sullivan was forced into cover. "Fuckin' cocksucka'!" Amato shouted, dismayed at the fact that he had almost been riddled with holes.

As Amato's tangent ensued, he saw the wounded Sullivan lift his head off the ground, still clinging to life. "What? One wasn't enuff' for yous?" He spat, before lowering his shotgun to his hip. The buckshot did its job in blowing the Sullivan soldier's head to pieces. Sending bits of plastic and skull just about everywhere, with pieces of brain matter dripping back down from the roof. Amato let out a loud chuckle at the spectacle, before cocking his shotgun and loading a fresh round in.

Misty Gray (Ethan) Pyroclast (Syd)

 

[Pyroclast]

Chase Zegarra

The inevitable blush returned to his cheeks when Jasmine complimented his art, but she had seen it enough times by now that he knew she must have been expecting it, and so rather than getting embarrassed he used it as a way to laugh at himself. She told him that he didn’t need to be modest and he just cleared his throat and smiled helplessly at her. “I can’t help it,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his tingling face. It didn’t ease when she accepted his invitation to come to Cuba with him. “Be as jealous as you like, Jasmine, but I am glad your first impression of my home will be a happier one,” he played along as he idly massaged her fingers. He smiled at the name she gave to his airline when she asked if he would have any flights scheduled soon. “Sooner than you can pack your bags,” was his response, and his heart stirred as the plan began to take form.

Chase watched patiently as Jasmine took her time working out what to tell him about her hobbies. He wondered briefly if she had something to hide, but he knew her to be an honest person and more open than himself, so he ruled it out fairly quickly. After a moment, she began telling him about her interests, though it sounded like none of them were being nurtured, and not for any fault of her own. It saddened him to hear that she hadn’t had the opportunity or encouragement to pursue them. Chase had never given much thought into what it took to balance life and work, because he had always worked with his family and friends growing up and so the two things had sort of intertwined. But from what he was hearing, it sounded like he had ended up developing more leisure time for himself than Jasmine had. “Hey, I’m sure you still have that creative side in you,” he smiled. “If encouragement is all you need, then please take it from me, because I’d love to see what makes you happy. Besides, I need someone to educate me in movies...so, you can take me to see something some time?”

The pair didn’t have time to delve into the details of their proposed dates before the arrival of a guard prompted Jasmine to draw her hand away from his. The guard was straight to the point, and his news brought a chill to the air. Chase wasted no time questioning the man and instead marched straight to the apartment next door.

His first thought was that Maddox had betrayed the mob, which wouldn’t have surprised him had he not been under such close surveillance for the last several months. As a guard himself, Chase understood how tightly the place had been secured and so it would have shocked him if Maddox had found a loophole somewhere. Still, considering the man’s reputation among both the Irish Mob and the Morettis, he found it curious that Kerry was begging to stay with him and Ani as though her life depended on it. The counsellor approached Chase and Jasmine, and Chase stood at the ready - though he wasn’t sure exactly what he was anticipating.

Against the name ‘Gabriel’, the crying young woman in front of him barely seemed like a threat. He had been trained to be wary of innocent pretences and mind-trickery - Maddox Parker being a classic example - but even so, it sounded like exactly the sort of thing that Gabriel would have done. Chase was itching to speed off towards the station, wary that every second that passed was a chance missed to save the lives of their colleagues, but he forced himself to hear them out in case there was anything else they ought to be warned about. Just as he thought they had got all the information they needed, Kerry looked up to him through tearful eyes and began to slowly piece another sentence together. He stopped and watched her expectantly. “What, what is it?” he urged, trying to speed her along. If the young woman was crying under any other circumstance he would have been a bit kinder, but at that moment her comfort wasn’t a priority to him. Not when his boss and colleagues could be getting slaughtered in an ambush. Chase gave Kerry a curt nod, grateful for her insight but feeling it was too premature to thank her for it. “Manhole, train platform, got it,” he confirmed, and didn’t waste another second before bounding back down the corridor to retrieve their emergency gear.

Chase unhooked the kevlar vests and gas masks from the rack by the door of the neighbouring apartment where they had been playing cards only minutes ago. He tossed a set to Jasmine before quickly strapping himself into his vest as he silently processed what Kerry had been hiding. Chase’s mind was so fixed on his team that he completely compartmentalised his romance with Jasmine. They had a job to do that required all his attention. With an ammunition belt slung over his shoulder and a Stoner 63 in his arms, Chase caught her eye, and the cards on the table, and suddenly realised that they were about to step into Hell. “Jasmine, I...” It was obvious where the urge came from - on their way into a mass gunfight, this may be his first and last chance to kiss her. But he only stared stupidly at her. Either it wasn’t the right moment, or he was too afraid to make the move. “Come on, let's see where they're up to...”

Interactions
Misty Gray Jasmine, Kerry, Maddox
Bellz Ani (mentioned)

 

[Misty Gray]

Ethan Turner​

The other gang members soon understood what Ethan had done and they set about prising respirators from the dead Irish Mob members for their own use. As eager as he was to step through the double doors, he was also cautious as to what was waiting on the other side for him. His intention was to drop back slightly to allow two other gang members to enter the area first. If anyone was going to be showered with enemy bullets, rather the two guys in front of him that himself! Apparently far more eager, Amato checked through the door windows before barging through. One of the other men opened fire on the Irish rats.

Whilst holding his gun aimed ready to fire, Ethan remained eerily calm, his eyes watching those in front of him like a hawk. He turned to Amato as the man used his shotgun to make a mess of some wounded Sullivan's head. Ethan smirked behind his mask before taking a few steps to advance. He held his hand out to signal for Amato to stay close by then cautiously pushed open the first door they reached, quickly raising his gun ready to fire. There was no onslaught of bullets nor any sound at all from inside the room. However, the moonlight outside lit the room up enough to make out the fresh streaks of blood on the floor leading deeper into the room. Chances were some injured Sullivan had taken refuge in the room and was perhaps even dead in the corner. Still, Ethan wasn't going to bypass it without checking the room out first. He came for a trophy and he had yet to find it.

Pyroclast Enzyme

 

[Bellz]

Lucy Porter
Blake McCarthy
Roxie Carriveau
Peter Callahan ​

Blake beamed happily, returning the hug Ali gave her as she chuckled at her words. The room fell a bit silent after she broke the news and it was clear that the tension about whether the men were going to make it home still hung in the air. Blake cleared her throat, trying to get rid of any sort of doubt in her mind that Jackson wouldn't come home to her this evening. If she let it, her imagination would run wild with different scenarios. Receiving her congratulations gratefully, Blake continued to smile for the sake of others and herself, trying to push the doubt she was feeling further and further down. James reassured Ali that the men had the upper hand and Blake nodded to herself gently, eyeballing Roxie and Ali a long moment before returning her gaze to look down at her folded hands. His reassurance should have been enough to quell her concerns but Blake was still finding herself distracted.

Ali then asked her about the due date and although Blake looked up to the woman, she paused slightly, trying to process what she said. "Oh," She said after a long moment, shaking her head and giving Ali a sheepish grin. "The due date." She repeated. "It's November 23rd, just in time for Thanksgiving, if we are celebrating it in Ireland. Jackson seemed to like the festivities this year...might have to steal the holiday for ourselves." Blake chuckled. Lucy smiled widely, "That's one thing that Ireland doesn't have that I like, Thanksgiving, this last year was so great!" She exclaimed before looking to Sinead. "You should still celebrate Thanksgiving when you go back to Ireland! More of a reason to invite the whole family to come to visit you! Not that we really need one, but the food is a nice incentive and my time hosting holiday dinners is starting to come to a close I think." Lucy looked to James and offered the man a smile, "That way, I can just spend more time with you instead of worrying about feeding like 30 people at a time, I think it's time I pass that torch onto my sister..if she's willing to take it."

Peter smiled and nodded his head at Lucy's words, "I would enjoy keeping Thanksgiving around and no offense to you Lucy but Sinead being in charge of it would bring a fresh new take on it. She's so creative!" Moving to kiss the side of Sinead's head, Peter smiled down at her before turning back to see that Lucy was glaring at him. "Oh shit, now I've done it." Moving to bow behind his wife, Peter pretended to hide. Roxie let out a laugh at such actions, "Been on the receiving end of that glare before, I would not poke the bear." She teased and Lucy then turned to playfully glare at her as well to which Roxie lifted a hand, raising it as if she was holding a white flag. The blonde adjusted Jeanie in her arms before her glare softened into a smile.

"Make fun of me all you want, people. Our home has been a hotel for you lot for the last two decades. I can glare whenever I want to." She said jokingly before looking at Ali and James. "Back me up here, you two." Blake smiled at Lucy, "You can be moody whenever you want to, dear."
with: Ali Melanin-Gxdess ; James + Sinead Misty Gray

 

[Bellz]

Gwen Bryant ​

Gwen was all smiles as Jason congratulated her on getting an audition. She was nervous but excited to get back to work, especially now that she was feeling so much better and more secure with herself. He said that it was admirable that she was getting back on her feet so soon and Gwen beamed at him. "It's not a musical, sadly. I won't get to showcase this amazing voice, however, the role is rather serious. It's for A Streetcar Named Desire for the role of Blanche DuBois. It's much more serious than Cabaret so I'm not sure how I'll fair. But I think I can do it." Gwen had always been a go-getter, when life threw her a curveball, she'd persevere and bounce back as nothing had fazed her. Well, that's how she was before the drugs. Now she was hoping she could find her former self once more, find that drive once again to make it big. She blushed as he seemed to notice that her passion hadn't faded and that he saw her making it big out in New York.

He turned her hand in his, inspecting it closely as he traced her palm and she watched him closely. He talked about how he saw them both making it big, making headlines. He told her to imagine them coming home every day to their own little place, having breakfast every morning and dinner every night. Gwen's vision began to blur with emotions but soon she didn't need her eyes to see the perfect life he was picturing for them. Gwen could see it all and it was something she had always wanted for herself, for her daughter. It was all only mere steps away and yet they had a lot of work to do to get there. But with both of them being so talented, she knew for sure as he seemed to that they were going somewhere.

He was so at peace and Gwen felt the same way. Blinking a few times, it took her a moment to pull herself from her imagination as Jason told her he'd be honest with her. Tilting her head gently, she listened with great interest as he revealed her didn't know what family life could be like until he met hers. A smile played on her lips as he mentioned Thanksgiving, remembering all too well they were basically caught in an act that was not suitable to talk about at the dinner table, and yet for her nephew and his girlfriend, it became an underlying conversation. It made her horribly sad that Jason had missed out on all of that but she knew where he had been before he'd been graced to spend Thanksgiving with her and her family. She too hadn't really known what family life was like until she found out James was her half-brother. There wasn't a family out there quite as close as the Porters and Sullivans that was for sure.

He suggested that they let themselves dream and it sounded like an absolutely wonderful idea. He wanted to know what she wanted from the future and Gwen didn't even know where to start. Moving to take a drink, she thought about what her deepest desires were now that she was clean. It was strange, her deepest desires before she became clean were heroin, to let her life just quietly pass her by. But now that she was beginning to be on her feet once more with the whole world out in front of her, she wanted to have it all. "I want to be able to leave my brother's place, to move in with you. I want to be able to pay back Sinead and to give you and Lorelei everything you could ever need or want. I think making it big, while it's high on my list, it's not my priority." Her eyes met Jason's and she smiled. "I use to seek out fame like my life depended on it and now that I have a clearer head to think about it all...that's what got me into trouble in the first place. It's what led me to meet my ex-husband. So while I wouldn't mind the fame again, I could also do without it."

"I just want to perform, because I love it so much. I want to raise Lorelei with you in our own little place here in the city. And maybe...maybe someday, I want to take your last name...make it official? " She bit her lip slightly. Despite him being so devoted to her now, there was some sliver of doubt especially since this was the first time the idea of marriage was ever brought up between the two of them. "I could see it, you know. Gwen Costello. It's got a nice ring."
with: Jason Pyroclast

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Aliana Sullivan

James' words had actually caught her off guard, not realizing her thoughts were shown all over her face. She stared at him for a moment trying to process what he was saying to her and let it sink in. He was trying to reassure her, comfort her, help her not be stressed about her husband and she appreciated him for it. The only issue was it wasn't working. Her eyes drifted to Blake's and Roxie's knowing they had to be feeling the same way as she. Ali's own husband had been apart of things like this once or twice, but it would never be something she could get used to. Jackson was no stranger to this either and neither was Syd, but she felt Roxie was. Having someone you loved and cared about, the father of your children out doing something so risky was always going to stress you out. She wanted to say something to her, but decided against it in the off chance she wasn't thinking too hard about the situation. Instead, she turned her attention to her brother in law and gave him a soft smile. "That makes me feel a little better." She lied. It didn't, but she wasn't going to sour the mood.

Blake was beaming about her pregnancy which would be enough of a distraction for now. The baby would be due around Thanksgiving and Ali smiled at the thought. "A perfect excuse to get the boys on a plane! While I get to see the new baby, they'll be getting ready for Thanksgiving. It's a win-win." She listened as Lucy informed them that she would be passing the torch down to Sinead, to which Peter began to poke fun at Lucy. Ali couldn't help but laugh at the look he was receiving from Lucy when he said this, shaking his head. "Now why would you want to go and poke at mother bear? Don't get her all riled up before you two leave." She joked. The blonde then turned on Roxie, having experienced the harsh glare from Lucy in the past. Now that she thought about it, everyone had to have experienced it from Lucy at one point in their lives. It had Ali thinking back on it and she couldn't find any examples. "You guys should learn how to be like me. I have yet to receive the Lucy Glare... I think?"

She nodded her head in agreement when she mentioned how her home was basically a hotel. Aliana and Conor were definitely guilty of that, seeing as they would sneak into her home after a drunken night or five. She tried to sheepishly look away, not wanting to admit that she was right and that Ali was proof of her statement. "Okay, okay, I can say that she's not wrong in that aspect and she does a flawless job of it. Cooking, cleaning, not asking questions when her brother brings home a very intelligent woman, despite having his own apartment at the time. You truly do it all love." She turned to James and nodded her head towards Lucy. "Your turn. I've done my duty for the day."
​

 

[Pyroclast]

Jason Costello

“Oh God, I’ve always wanted to see that one!” Jason enthused, when told the title of the production that Gwen would be auditioning for. His fists were clenched with excitement. “No pressure there, love, but I will be pleased if the first Blanche DuBois I ever see will be my Gwen.” However, Jason had spent enough time with her to read between the lines. To anyone else it may have sounded like she simply wasn’t used to playing serious roles, but to those who had seen her at her lowest point, it was possible to notice a deeper apprehension behind her words. Jason may not have seen A Streetcar Named Desire on stage, but he knew well enough that the role Gwen would be taking would be that of an alcoholic, addled by grief and drawn into despair. It was a theme very close to home for her - for both of them - but he knew that if she landed the role, it could be a great stepping stone for her career. Letting his enthusiasm soften, Jason stroked the back of her hand and added, “I have complete and utter faith in you, y’know. I’ll be wit’ ye’ all the way.”

It turned out that her career wasn’t at the top of her priorities after all - or, at least, becoming famous. Hearing what she wanted for her future set a dreamy smile on Jason’s face, but while he had approached the conversation in a whimsical, light-hearted manner, Gwen reminded him that their dreams weren’t without their risks. Jason had reached acclaim twice before and both times he had let it go to his head. Recognition, before fame, had still been enough to draw him into a foolish trap. At the time, he had just wanted to escape his old life of poverty and loneliness. Posing as the descendant of a famous painter, he had become an imposter in high society and it had made him rich and popular for a time, giving him a taste of the elite lifestyle. When, a decade later, he then became known by his real name after getting his lucky break in London’s West End, he had felt himself falling back into the lavish ways of partying, sleeping around and drinking heavily.

“I understand what ye’ mean, but don’t ye’ go blamin’ yerself, now,” he told her, in a gentle tone. “When I was younger - not that much younger at all, come t’think of it - I thought popularity and fame was a cure for loneliness. People invite ye’ to all these parties and after-parties and the like, and for someone like myself - I mean, someone who didn’t come from much or have any real friends or family - I mistook that for thinkin’ I’d found where I belonged. But they didn’t care for me, nor I for them.” Jason leaned back and took a sip of his tonic, the bitterness tingling across his tongue. His tender eyes returned to Gwen as naturally as if she was the only person in the room. “Look,” he murmured, touching his cool fingertips to hers. “I believe we’ve both seen a dark side to this business. Fame exposes you to all sorts of shite, but we’ll recognise what’s good and what’s bad for us, now. We can do it better this time. Don’t be afraid of goin’ after what ye’ want, Gwen, please. I want ye’ t’be doin’ what ye’ love.” He slid his hand into hers and gave it a squeeze, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Besides, we be’s needin’ some real money if we’re to do all the other things on that list of yours.”

Jason raised his eyebrow at her suggestion of taking his last name, though his smile didn’t fade even a fraction. He watched her as she tried it on in her head, and when she told him it had a nice ring to it, he felt himself blush a little. “Does it now!” he chuckled. “Well, if it’s a nice ring you’re wantin’, you’ll have to wait a little while longer, my sweet.”

Gwen Costello. Jason wondered if that combination of names had rung through her head before like it had through his. It was strange to hear himself talk of marriage - not because he didn’t want it, but because he never thought he would. However much he had needed it throughout his life, Jason had never explicitly sought love. For family, he had had his Nana’s encouragement; friendships were only fleeting, or else founded on lies; girlfriends had never fit into his criminal lifestyle and therefore had become only known to him in the form of meaningless flings. If marriage had ever been on his list, it was too far down for him to bother reading. Now, it was floating somewhere near the top, alongside many other dreams and goals he had that involved Gwen in some way. Commitment didn’t scare him anymore.

“Just t’be clear,” he spoke up, now barely able to control his aching smile. “You tryin’ on my name like that does not count as a proposal. We may be dolled up and in a fancy restaurant but I don’t want to hear that name again until you’ve got a ring on your finger, ye’ hear me?” The rosy glow on his cheeks made it clear he was teasing her, but despite his warning there was some kind of emotion blooming from within him that he was struggling to contain. She had effectively told him that she would say yes if he were to ask her to marry him and suddenly he wished he had a ring in his pocket. But Gwen was special, of course - she deserved more than some makeshift ring crafted from the twine of a bread basket. He couldn’t do it now. That exhilaration he felt, urging him to blurt out something spontaneous, he would have to hold it back, refine it to something he knew would really touch Gwen’s heart. “Stop that,” he softly jibed through an irrepressible smile, sliding a hand to rest over his pounding heart. “You’re doin’ that thing again. Nobody else does this t’me. Not to blow my own horn, but I’m a good actor until I’m around you - and will ye’ look at me now! My face feels all hot, thanks to you.”

Interactions
Bellz Gwen

 

[Enzyme]

Amato Castello​

Amato followed right behind Ethan, yet he made sure to keep his wits about him as he swept the corner. The barrel of his gun was not met with a brash Sullivan, ready to die like the proud Irish were so fond of doing. Instead, they were met with a dark pit of a room. The building had been an entire wreck since day one, and this room practically summed up the train station's condition. Clutters of shelves and miscellaneous office supplies scattered the room, to where not even the tiled floor was visible. The moss and vines were able to break through the pile of debris and began to reclaim the room, stretching out to the torn-up walls and embedding their green algae in the wood.

Amato scrunched his face behind the mask at the sight, and while the room was clearly decrepit, the squinting was due to his poor vision through the mask lens. "Man, I can't see shit!" Amato spat, before ripping the mask from his face. He quickly returned his hand to the pump of his shotgun, letting the corner of the mask dangle from his thumb. "This the room he ran in?" Amato turned to ask Ethan, as the only thing he could see was dated paperwork and scurrying rats. Ethan didn't respond, however, as he was seemingly entranced with something.

Amato followed Ethan's gaze to what looked to be fresh blood droplets, glistening under the moon's powerful ray. Amato's eyes slowly rolled up, following the trail it seemed to be leading to. The blood trail stopped just under an upturned cupboard, lying in the corner of the room. The little hole it formed was untouched by the moonlight and shrouded entirely in darkness. Amato's feet slowly swept the cupboard, keeping his barrel locked onto the small hole. In one swift motion, he threw the wooden appliance onto it's back, exposing the cowering Sullivan.

Amato instinctively shot the butt of the shotgun against the Sullivan's head, throwing the man's aim off of him. Amato then threw his barrel back down, aiming directly at his dome. "Gotcha fucker!" Amato chuckled, pressing the barrel of his gun to the man's temple. "Now look at me like a man!" Amato demanded, resting his finger on the trigger. "Look at me, ya' pussy!" Amato ordered, before ripping the gas mask off the Sullivan. Even in the poor light, Amato instantly recognized the man. He'd seen so many photos of him, heard his name uttered countless times, how could he not? It was Syd Porter.

For a moment Amato stood there, motionless. It was the equivalent of a fisherman fishing in his local pond, and instead of finding a trout, he finds $30,000 in cash. "Look at this... In the flesh!" Amato chuckled. "What're we gonna' do with you...?" Amato pondered, his aim still trailed on Syd's skull. His eyes shot to Ethan, as he was certain he'd know the value of having James Porter's son as a hostage.

Pyroclast (Syd) Misty Gray (Ethan)