Realistic or Modern The Roaring Twenties - IC Thread [OPEN]

[Misty Gray]

The Roaring Twenties
IC Start Date: Friday 14th August 1925

IC THREAD


​

This RP will follow the lives of a rich and powerful organised crime family residing in Queens, NYC. With the ageing Marino Family patriarch, Salvatore, rumoured to be stepping down in the coming years, attention has turned to who will replace him in the family business. Between his children and trusted underboss, any one of them could take his place. The challenge is to receive both his recommendation and the support of most others within the organisation.

 

[Misty Gray]

Prologue

Salvatore and Margaret Marino
(Written by ReverseTex ft. Misty Gray )​

Another trip around the Sun, or so they liked to say… Birthdays were always a weird concept. As a boy, his father never made a fuss about them. A simple clasp on the shoulder was all he earned for making it out of another year. His mother, on the other hand, liked to bake something. Usually small and in the evenings after work. It wasn’t grandiose or particularly delicious, but it was made with love. But that was a different time. His children had it differently. Margaret liked to fawn over the children. In fact, he had to admit he enjoyed it in their younger years. But he always hated it when it was his turn. Simply because it was never just time with family. People of all kinds slithered out of the woodworks to kiss his ring, trying to make a good impression. Even his own family. They all wanted something from him. Bullshit.

At least for now, in the early morning hours before the sun’s official break, Sal quietly played his piano. He didn’t like to wake his wife, but he knew it was a sound she grew accustomed to over the years. The soft and silent concerts he played to process his thoughts. As his fingers worked, he had to accept today’s situation. He was having a birthday party, like it or not. He’d have to stomach the boring small talk and the constant back and forth of work and play.

The sound of footsteps caught his ear, causing him to immediately stop mid-melody. He glanced upward from the keys, spotting his darling wife down the stairs already. “And who might this dazzling dame be? I’m taking tips,” Sal teased, extending a hand to the lid of the piano where a hat or jar might have sat. Margaret’s prowl to the bench cued him to slide over, making a space for her to sit. The tune picked itself up again, this time more calming and quieter now that he played the keys softer. He was dreading hearing the words from her—the one’s he’d have to stomach all day. As he played, he dipped his head down to rest his head on her shoulder. “You get to say it once. It loses its meaning from you after that.”

Seated beside her husband, Margaret maintained her smile as he rested his head on her shoulder. Listening to the music playing, she couldn't help but grin when he told her she could only say what needed to be said once. "Oh, come on. Yours is the last birthday party I get to organise for a while. I might even have to wait until Thanksgiving to arrange our next family get-together," she said, playfully pouting. "Very well... Happy birthday, love," she told him, briefly turning her head so she could place a kiss on top of his.

Growing up, birthdays for the Harrington siblings were played down. There were gifts and cards, along with birthday wishes, but Margaret's father was keen to keep it all to a minimum and maintain a serious household. She'd always wanted her own kids to enjoy birthdays and look forward to them, so she always made sure to celebrate and make the most of the special days for each of them. "I'm afraid you will have to sit through having it sang to you. I've already asked Anastasia to play "Happy Birthday" to you later," she said, pointing to the piano.

Gazing out of the window, she anticipated their guests arriving later in the day. She thrived on these occasions and the opportunity to socialise with others, as well as getting all of their family together, but she knew her husband found such affairs unappealing. "You'll do fine today. Worst case scenario, you can have a recharge break in our room - that’s the beauty of the party being held at home," she mischievously told him.

The kiss was all Sal needed to wash most of his nerves away. Margaret always had a way with him. She was the breath in his sails. Without her, well, that wasn’t a thought he entertained... Picking his head off her shoulder, his lazy melody slowly ended. With age, his fingers grew heavier and stiffer. “This poor piano. It’s played the likes of Beethoven and Bach, and now it has to put up with "Happy Birthday?” Damn shame.” He teased.

Having sat on the piano bench for some time now, he stood up with a long stretch. As he did so, he heard his wife’s encouragement distantly. Social graces weren’t his strong suit, and she knew that. Even with age, it still wasn’t something he was fond of. With the kids, it was different. But extended family and guests? He’d rather pull teeth. The quip about the bedroom caused his lip to curl in a wry smile, his scar tugging at the crook of his grin. “Maybe it should be my birthday more often. If I got that privilege at every event you dragged me to, I think we’d need a bigger house.”

From her seat on the bench, Sal hugged her from behind. Dipping down, he planted a complementary kiss on her head. “I’ll manage. I always do.” He simply put. “But I always have fires to put out. And those don’t stop just because I got a year older.” It would be foolish of him to assume his associates would come empty-handed to his party. Business proposals, problems, whatever it may be. There was always something.

ReverseTex neverbackdown NanLia myrkwise ZarbofftheFirst Pagemaster @Jigajig @Saix

 

[Misty Gray]

Chapter 1 - Happy Birthday
- Friday 14th August 1925 -
Mid-Afternoon - Warm, Clear Skies

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

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

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

Benjamin Marino​

The tenth anniversary of Rosemary's death was fast approaching, which meant the memories and darker feelings were lurking within Benjamin's household. His daughters had almost gone ten years without their mother in their lives - they'd now lived longer without her than they had with. That reality barely made it any easier. Nor did the media. Benjamin was still reeling from having a journalist show up at his house a few days ago requesting an interview with him about his wife's unsolved murder. He'd given the man nothing, but it had since become clear an article was being published on the anniversary, with or without his input. Benjamin knew that would mean old wounds being reopened, not to mention unwanted attention being directed back towards him and the girls. As long as the crime went unsolved, he knew there would always be someone directing suspicion his way.

Today was Salvatore's birthday, so Benjamin knew to push his own concerns aside for the sake of the day. He knew his father wouldn't want too much of a fuss, but he was also aware his mother would be counting on the day running smoothly. For both of their sakes, Benjamin would put on a strong front to help ensure everyone; family and business associates alike, had nothing to complain about. The Marinos would deliver a memorable day, for good reasons only.

Once his daughters were ready, Benjamin ushered them into his car and set off to his parents' house. It wasn't a long drive, but there was still an uncomfortable silence before he spoke up. "Make sure to wish your grandfather a happy birthday. Hell, sing it to him!" he playfully suggested as he watched the road ahead of him. "I can't get away with it, but you two can!" He briefly glanced between Cassandra and Kathryn, a grin planted on his face.

Even when he was back to focusing on the road, the tone of his next words made it clear he was no longer smiling. "On a serious note, I do need you both to be vigilant. If anyone starts asking questions about our family, who isn't a part of it, then tell them nothing. Those damned--" he began, stopping short given Cassandra's chosen career path for the newspaper. "Those reporters won't stop simply because I've told them to stay away, and I can't be completely sure if everyone at the party can be trusted to be sensitive," he said, keeping his tone controlled.

Once they arrived at their destination, Benjamin parked the car outside the large brownstone house and climbed out of the vehicle. When the girls were both out of the car, he gave each of them a hug before walking into the house with them. It didn't take him long to peer out of the living room window to see Salvatore out in the garden, likely enjoying the peace and quiet before everyone began to arrive. "You girls go on and get settled whilst I catch the birthday boy alone for a moment," he told them.

Stepping out into the garden, Benjamin removed his suit jacket and hung it over the bench, slotting the envelope into the side pocket for the time-being. As he approached his father, he pushed up his shirt sleeves, the summer heat and his formal wear not the best of matches. "How's it going?" he asked, deciding not to overdo the birthday wishes. "No doubt you're thrilled about today," he teased, flashing a boyish smile.

With: ReverseTex (Salvatore)

Margaret Marino​

Even if Salvatore wasn't enthusiastic about his birthday and a fuss being made, Margaret still wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Of course, a good impression needed to be made for their guests, but it wasn't the only factor. She mostly wanted everything to be perfect for her husband and family. She always believed that if she was doing something, then she had to do it right and to the best of her ability. Naturally skilled when it came to party planning and hosting, it was to be expected she would go all out. The house and garden were decorated to Salvatore's taste. The food and drinks were all carefully selected. Though she had a small team of waiting staff there to assist throughout the day, Margaret still couldn't help but walk through the house and garden with a fine-toothed comb to manage everything.

After checking on the flowers in the back garden, where the main party would be held, she then moved to the front of the house to check in with their security. Before she could be seen, her heels clicking along the side path of the house drew attention to her presence. Standing watch close to the front door, Elijah moved to meet the woman. "It's warm today. Make sure you stay hydrated," she told the trusted guard, smoothing out her dress as she spoke. Her words were met with a light laugh from Elijah but he still nodded his head, having by now learned to accept her advice... Or was it fussing? Either way, he wouldn't contradict her logic. Both of their eyes briefly landing on Benjamin and the two young women as they arrived at the house. Margaret sent them a loving wave but made it clear she would catch up with her son and granddaughters inside. "My sons and Gabriella will likely be drinking today," she continued to address Elijah, prompting him to focus back on her. "They're not to drive home unless I say so."

"Of course, Margaret. I'll be able to take anyone home that needs a ride," Elijah assured her.

Once she was satisfied, Margaret returned into the house where she could best greet their guests and ensure everything was going well.

OPEN FOR INTERACTION

Elijah Wilson​

Despite Margaret's comments about the heat, Elijah didn't mind the warm summer days. Born and raised in Texas, he was used to hot weather. He wanted to cling on dearly to this summer - his favourite season - for as long as he could.

Focusing back on his duties, he once against positioned himself close to the front door so he could observe the guests as they arrived at the house and help them park their cars if needed. Today's shift was certainly one of his easier and more relaxed ones. Still, he would choose his most risky and physically intense jobs over the life he'd left behind. Texas already seemed a whole lifetime ago - a lifetime he wouldn't have had if he hadn't fled when he did. Grateful for every day he woke up in New York City, he had yet to be met with a requests or a command that he wasn't willing to do. The Marinos had welcomed him into their circle and the least he could give in return was his loyalty.

Elijah was certain today would go without a hitch, but he still remained focused, watching as the next arrivals made their way towards the house.


OPEN FOR INTERACTION

Anastasia Robinson​

Anastasia had woken that morning to find another letter had been slipped under the door of her apartment. She knew it was from Lloyd by the handwriting of her name alone. So of course the letter inside contained some weird poem written by the infatuated man. She stopped reading partway through and instead shoved the paper in the drawer with the previous letter. The cops weren't interested, so she knew it was pointless reporting Lloyd again.

It had taken a while to calm her nerves, but she eventually forced herself to get ready for Salvatore's birthday party. Margaret had asked her if she'd play something on the piano as part of the celebration and she of course agreed. Granted, she was a little intimidated about playing on Salvatore's beloved piano. Perhaps he'd talk his wife out of the idea before she got to the house and any apprehension would be washed away.

Anastasia arrived at the Marino house on time, paying the cab driver before stepping out of the vehicle. Walking tall and elegantly, she carried a natural smile on her face. Despite her bad morning, she now felt relaxed and excited about the party. She wasn't sure who else would be there, but she was close enough to the Marino family to feel comfortable showing up alone. She politely thanked Elijah as he opened the door for her and she then stepped into the house.

After placing the birthday card and box of fancy chocolates on the gift table, she made her way deeper into the house to see who had already arrived.

OPEN FOR INTERACTION

Active Cast: Misty Gray ReverseTex neverbackdown NanLia myrkwise ZarbofftheFirst Pagemaster @Jigajig @Saix

 

[ReverseTex]

The Marino Residence
Misty Gray
Salvatore Marino​

As expected, Margaret didn’t spare any expense or leave any stone unturned in the house for his party. Green streamers, his favorite color, lined each doorway of the house and hall to the garden. Everything was particularly tidy, and the kitchen was set up as a self-service bar rather than a place to cook. The back garden was where the main event was. The flowers were meticulously manicured, sharing their last bit of vivace before their autumn’s rest. Despite its gaudiness, Sal appreciated the gesture. Even if he couldn’t stand half of the people in attendance, he was thankful to have a family who showed up for him.

In lieu of the events, Salvatore kept himself classy. To match the green decor, he wore a leisurely collared green short-sleeve shirt. Paired with freshly pressed grey slacks and black loafers. It was his house after all, so full pageantry wasn’t expected. Plus, with the warm weather, he didn’t want to be hot and socially uncomfortable at the same time.

Before the party truly began, he took some time to himself in the garden. Fresh air and a quiet moment before the storm would make a great deal of difference. In his moment of solace, he closed his eyes. All of this around him was his. He built this. From a single box truck and a pipe dream, now wallowing in his riches like a fat cat. Part of him enjoyed the ease of things. Retirement could be any day now, and he knew Margret wanted that. Their house in Sicily would be hundreds of miles away from the stress of New York. But just as much as he wanted to settle down, he knew he could do more. There was always more to do and more money to make. This city reinvigorated him each day. And deep down, he enjoyed the hustle more than he liked to admit.

The back door creaked open. Likely his wife summoning him to greet the first guest. When he turned his head around, it was none other than his son, Benjamin. A warm smile washed over him as he turned himself to face his son. It always surprised him how broad his two older boys were, simply because he hadn’t been that way. Sure, in his youth he was lean and still lean now in older age, but never as muscular as Ben or Frank. “Good to see you, son.” He smiled, bringing him in for a hug. “Are the girls inside with Mom?” He asked once the embrace was through, assuming his granddaughter was around somewhere.

Once he took in Benjamin’s formality, Salvatore chuckled. “I’m really underdressed for my party eh?” He jested. “It’s been a good day; no complaints so far. You know how your mother is, always dotting her I’s and crossing her T's with this sort of thing. Easier to let her enjoy herself.” He crossed his arms comfortably. “Any business I ought to know about before this kicks off?” At the drop of a dime, his tone switched. When business was on the table, his cool and methodical persona dominated the meeker, simple one.

 

[Misty Gray]

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

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

Benjamin Marino​

Benjamin returned his father's hug, briefly patting his back in the process. Once they'd both pulled away from the gesture, Salvatore then enquired about his granddaughters. "They're both inside, though Mom was out front when I got here. Either coddling or bossing Elijah," he lightly remarked. "The girls will no doubt come find you later. I told them to lay the birthday wishes on thick, just for you."

The comment about his formal attire prompted Benjamin to smooth out his shirt in that moment, the movements only accentuating the outlines of his biceps beneath the white material. Between work, formal gatherings, and the odd date or night out with his friends, it wasn't often he dressed down. So he was certainly going to make an effort for Salvatore's birthday.

Unsurprisingly, the conversation soon turned serious with the question about business. Benjamin was quick to shake his head. "Nothing new, Dad. Everything's running smoothly at the moment, so we can switch off, just for today," he assured him. Benjamin was committed to the business and struggled to switch off from it, but Salvatore even more so. So if there was one day his father could relax at least a little, surely today was it.

"Whilst I still have the chance..." As he spoke, Benjamin reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the birthday card so he could hand it to Salvatore. When his father opened it, he would find two theatre tickets enclosed. "From me and the girls," he told him. It was always difficult buying for a man who could seemingly get anything he wanted, but Benjamin hoped the gesture was enough for Salvatore, who was fond of the arts.

ReverseTex (Salvatore)

 

[NanLia]

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

John Joseph Harrington​

John Joseph stood in the foyer of his home glaring down the hall and into the emptiness as he strained to listen for any signs of life. He gripped the polished brass handle of his cane, tapping the metal tip on the stone floors in frustration as time wore on and he continued to stand there alone.

He’d already searched for his boys, anywhere in the house and garden that he believed they might be and found them both missing. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, the pair of them had snuck out in the early hours to go galavanting around the city against his word. They were well aware of what today was, the importance to the family and yet the dallied. He blamed their mother, she was far too soft on them. Not this time, he hissed through clenched teeth. No, this time they would answer for their disobedience.

“Sylvia!” he bellowed into the house taking a few steps into the hall to look up the stairwell to where he suspected she still was, dallying in front of the mirror. “We’ll going to be late if you keep this up!” He continued, raising his cane with the intent to bang the handle on the railing but forced himself to stop, lest he set off the staff again. They were fragile things, nowadays. Unable to handle the criticism that came with the work. He only reigned himself in just so he could avoid hearing from his wife about how she would have to train yet another girl.

John Joseph puffed out a breath and paced back to the foyer, pausing at the mirror to adjust his black tie over a red shirt and comb back his hair.

myrkwise - Slyvia

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

Henry Booker​

Henry watched the scenescape outside the cab’s window shift drastically from the high-rise buildings that made up centre town and where he lived to the nearly rural-looking part of the city that housed the fine large houses plenty of the wealthy owned. He didn’t get away from the city often, not this far out at least, and it always amazed him just how different it was from the bustle of the city core. He didn’t mind it, the constant din of the city; its people made it feel alive.

He doubted he would ever find himself in a home like those the Marino family owned, not for lack of funds but simply lack of necessity. The space seemed too grandeur for a man like himself, this two-bedroom apartment felt empty at times, why on earth would he need a many-bedroomed monstrosity for himself?

As the cab pulled into the long drive and stopped, Henry thanked the driver and paid him, leaving a generous tip for having dragged his fare so far away from his normal route. He stepped out of the cab and collected his items, heading the short walk to the front entry where he found the door wide open.

Henry had opted to dress rather casually today; he’d erred the first time he’d been invited to a Marino family event by wearing a fine suit only to spend the evening on the receiving end of playful jibes from the family members. Today he wore a crisp pair of dark blue slacks and a white button-up shirt beneath a brown knit sweater, the sleeves of which were rolled up his forearms.

As he stepped through the threshold, a bouquet in one hand and a bottle of Italian wine in the other, he called out. “Hello? Anyone home?”
Misty Gray - Margaret and/or Ellijah

 

[ZarbofftheFirst]

Paul Woertzel​

Outside the Marino Residence
Paul and Vito were in the car together, heading towards Salvatore’s brownstone. Paul fought off a number of thoughts and issues that were intruding on his mind: the Model T Vito was driving, lifted off a drunken brawler in Great Neck. How Zora and the kids were doing at home. Whether or not his goon Timofey actually did take pictures of the lecherous Officer O’Connell and his mistress. Paul did his best to block all of that so he could focus on just the birthday party. Of all days, this one had to go without complication, but in the back of Paul’s mind nothing is without complication. The pair were dressed for the summer occasion. Paul in a banana toned cotton suit, and Vito in his own light brown suit and straw boater hat.

Paul took a deep breath so he could center himself on the party at hand. “Park over here,” Paul said to Vito. Vito pulled into a spot not so close to the Marino residence. They both got out and started walking to the house. “You remember what you’re going to tell your father?”
“I’ll tell him about…” Vito struggled to put the words together.
“You’re going to tell him how much you love him, and how grateful you are,” Paul said. “And you’re not going to talk about Great Neck today. Everybody hounds the king when he holds court. The last thing you need is to make your father more worried.”

“Okay Paulie,” Vito said. “Can I talk about my girlfriend?” Paul snapped his sight towards Vito.
“Which one?” Paul said with a cackle and a slap to Vito’s back. “Don’t be so dispirited, Vittorio. It’s a birthday party. Your brothers and sisters will be there.”

Paul stopped in his tracks, and Vito did too. “Forget about Great Neck,” Paul said. “I know you wanna make your father proud. Just you being there is-” Paul turned his head and focused on a parked car. A man sat on the front wheel hump of an old Model T, with his fedora low and his pencil between two fingers. “That’s a reporter if I’ve ever seen one,” Paul said. “Let’s swing around the block.”
“How could you tell?” Vito asked as the pair went away from the brownstone.
“Florsheim shoes,” Paul said.

Paul and Vito went around the other side of the block, hoping to stay out of the newspaperman’s sight. They finally came up to the brownstone and entered. Much of the family and friends were there. Paul turned to Vito and motioned with his eyebrows towards Salvatore, relaxing in the back garden. “Give him a big smile,” Paul said. Vito nodded and started walking to his father.

Paul turned to find Patrick Harper sitting in a parlor chair. Paul walked over and took a seat next to him. “Patrick, how do you do?” Patrick said hello and asked about the day. “How’re the horses this time of year?” Paul gave a raise of his eyebrow. Paul knew enough not to say every ounce of business aloud. He really wanted to know about a number of businesses he helped fudge paperwork for. Licenses for the city, import and export exemptions, and the right crate labeling to escape the customs man. All of it done by Paul.
Pagemaster

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Vito Marino​

Inside the Marino Residence
Vito was glad to be in the city, and at home. He tried to push last night’s events out of his mind, but they kept coming back to him. Vito and a couple of his young goons had taken the Long Island Railroad far into Great Neck. They heard that there was a party at a young rich kid’s house, and there would be jazz there. Vito and company made it to the house of a young Galloway, and had fun at the raucous party. Drinks, ladies, conversation with all kinds of people. However, late into the night a man named Merle started hurling slurs and insults at the group of Sicilian young men. Although the host Mister Galloway attempted to cool the tensions in the room, Vito and Merle traded drink-glass missiles, and soon punches.

Vito got the better of his attacker, and made for the exits with his friends in tow. One of them recognized a Model T with peeling paint as the one their attacker drove in with. The gang jumped into the car, and sped away into the night. The sheriff was called, but Vito had driven far away on country roads, slipping into the night.

Vito tried to focus on just the moment. Him, and his father. Vito rubbed the cut underneath his right eye and held his boater hat in his hands. He walked through the doors to the garden. He saw Benjamin and his father discussing business. He knew to wait his turn behind his brothers.
ReverseTex

 

[ReverseTex]

The Marino Residence
Misty Gray
ZarbofftheFirst
Salvatore Marino​

Salvatore nodded along as Benjamin explained where his girls were, shifting to a scoff at the addition of his birthday expense. “Sly,” he tsked, knowing his son used his daughters as a birthday bombardment machine to tease him. Of course, he could withstand their wishes. They were his granddaughters and he loved them dearly. When there was nothing to report, he gave another satisfied nod. “Good, I just wanted to make sure.”

He raised a curious eyebrow at the care, “Oh Ben, you didn’t have to…” He trailed. Opening the card, he found a pair of theater tickets along with an endearing note. A soft smile escaped his lips, grateful for the gesture. “I’ve been meaning to catch this,” he raised the tickets, before assembling it back together. “I appreciate the thought, thank you.” He tucked the card in his back pocket, hoping to put it in his study once he got a chance.

The door alerted him to glance past his son for a moment, spotting his youngest child. Gently, he tapped Benjamin’s shoulder to have him step aside. “Vito, come here boy!” He called, waving his son over. Despite his spirited tone immediately, he noticed the sudden shyness. As he got closer, the cut under his eye was even more apparent. His expression dropped, concern apparent on his face.

“Let me see.” Salvatore’s eyes narrowed now that Vito was close. The cut seemed superficial enough, but he knew there was a story behind it. One he didn’t want to explain to Margeret. “What did you do?” He questioned, assuming that this was no mere accident. Marino men were prone to trouble. Even though Vito was young, he took after Frank’s bad habits.

 

[Pagemaster]

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

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

Patrick Harper
​

Patrick had arrived shortly after Benjamin, his driver dropping him off right at the front door before wheeling away and heading back into the city. He would return in two hours. That was usually about the amount of time Patrick could manage being out and about without considerable pain.

He had regarded the steps to the front door with a rueful eye before painstakingly making his way inside. Tap. Click. Drag. The anthem of his life. Left leg, his cane, then his useless right foot. Tap. Click, Drag.

He deposited his gift, a solid gold tie pin with Sals initials, on the gift table. The pin was a simple mark of wealth without being ostentatious. He suspected Sal would approve. He glanced around for the nearest chair and spotted the parlour a short distance away. The gold tipped cane tapped the floor as he moved, the rounded head clutched in one taloned hand. He dressed as he always did, a simple black suit with black shirt. There was no need to flash otherwise.

The chair felt like a plush heaven as he sank into the green folds. His hip, for a brief moment, ceased to burn, and he rested both hands on the arms of the chair. He found it to be quite comfortable and made a note to ask the Marinos where they had gotten it from.

Not more than five minutes had passed when Paul arrived. The lawyer was not someone Patrick would normally have done business with, but he was the Marinos man, and it was his shell companies that allowed Patrick to launder ever cent that flowed through them. They exchanged usual pleasantries, and Patrick almost rolled his eyes at the use of "horses" as some sort of childish code. He very much doubted the house was bugged and since the two men know quite literally every person who had attended so far, it was unlikely they were being spied upon.

"Business is good, thank you. The market is booming and anyone who has a mind too can make plenty of money." He smiled slightly. He had begun investing funds from a shell company owned by Paul a year ago and done very well for the man. Patrick had of course taken his 20% commission and been very satisfied. "How about yourself? Lots of litigation crowding the docket these days?"

ZarbofftheFirst

 

[Misty Gray]

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

Benjamin Marino​

Rosemary had been gone for a decade, with Benjamin becoming more Machiavellian and emotionally selective for just an long. However, some attributes his late wife had passed on to him had stuck with him. One such thing was her sentimental nature. Whilst he kept most people at a safe distance, his family and closest friends brought out the good parts of him. Regardless of whether Salvatore played down his birthday, Benjamin believed even he would appreciate the gesture of the birthday gift and message. "Of course. I figured it was a show you'd be interested in," he explained.

Before things could get more sentimental than either of the men would be comfortable with, they were save by his youngest sibling, Vito, joining them. Benjamin folded his arms and watched the younger man approach Salvatore. His eyes were sharp and his observation skills engaged when he noticed the cut under his brother's eye. On a day like today, he was inclined to shield the potential stress from their father, but that wasn't an option when their old man could see it with his own eyes.

He waited for Salvatore to greet Vito before briefly squeezing his brother's shoulder himself. "Good to see you, Vito," he warmly told him. Folding his arms once more, he observed as Salvatore questioned the wound.

Despite not having heard an explanation yet, Benjamin immediately thought of Frank and his part in it. Even if not directly involved, the middle brother was a liability at times. Of course, some of Benjamin's judgement was fuelled by their rivalry, but when it came down to it, he simply didn't think Frank was setting a good example. His indiscreet nature of violence and delusional sense of self worth made his brother unbearable at times. Benjamin may be bound by family loyalty and love for his kin, and he would even risk his life to protect Frank. But the two often came to blows. For reasons just like this, with Vito clearly being in trouble now. How Frank thought he was capable and deserving of ever replacing their father was laughable.

Regardless of such thoughts, Benjamin was concerned about Vito and what he'd got himself into. But with their father on the case, he knew this was one issue he could take a back seat on unless told otherwise.

ZarbofftheFirst (Vito) ReverseTex (Salvatore)
Mentioned: neverbackdown (Frank)

 

[ZarbofftheFirst]

Paul Woertzel​

Inside the Marino Residence
Paul warmed up to the news from Patrick, though he still felt some unease at having seen what looked like a newspaper man down the street. There’s only so much the law can do. If the paper-man didn’t like you, they could have a mob burn you on a pyre with the sensational stories they’d print. Especially if you were Jewish. Paul had seen deep hatred in newsstands, from monied men and politicians. Paul knew that in a way, he was a linchpin to the operation of the family, and a tabloid liability. He reassured himself and focused his mind on the elder banker.

“Every time I put out one fire, it seems like another one lights up,” Paul said. “The powers that be are fighting each other with tariffs. Tariffs increase the cost of business and we have to dodge them to stay in the black. Wheat labeled as concrete, paraffin wax in coconut water tins, the like. The city’s commerce men are in on the racket too. They know the city suffers with things like this, but you’ve got to play nice.”

“These days, if you’re getting Nova Scotia whitefish, it’s often easier to label it as whitefish from Maine,” Paul said. “I changed some wording for our fish importer to make that work.” Paul smiled as he rattled off his exploits.

Paul took pride in his legal finagling, just the same as he respected Patrick’s craftiness with money. They inhabited two sides of the same grubby coin.
Pagemaster

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Vito Marino​

Inside the Marino Residence
Vito attempted to hide the prior night’s “festivities” but he couldn’t help himself. Papa was always there for the little screw-up, even if it was his own fault. It didn’t help that he wasn’t so good at listening to Paul Woertzel’s advice.

“I was with a couple of the boys in Great Neck,” Vito said. “We were at this house owned by a guy named Galloway. He was throwin’ a party with dames and drinks, and even some jazz men. Then this guy starts callin’ us names. He must’ve lost his mind how drunk he was. Mister Galloway tried to calm him down but he threw a martini glass. I threw some punches, and the boys told me we had to run for the hills. We skipped town as fast as we could.” Vito looked away, knowing omission was also lying. He turned back to his father. “We jacked the guy’s car too.”

Vito was used to this song and dance with his father. He had gotten into trouble many times before, from the usual tomfoolery like joyriding and gambling to much more serious things, like tying a man to a streetcar and having him dragged a quarter mile. Trouble also seemed to have a way of finding him too, with this occasion being a prime example. Vito had, in a strange way, gotten used to being the family’s clown, like in those nickelodeons he watched. A pie to the face, falling off a building, or a balloon popping on his rear end. Something always happened with Vito.
Misty Gray + ReverseTex

 

[ReverseTex]

The Marino Residence
ZarbofftheFirst
Salvatore Marino​

Salvatore’s parental glare overcame his face. If there was one thing he was good at it was getting the complete truth out of someone. Of course, his son’s antics were of no surprise. Vito was in the young and wild stages of his life, so there was some excuse to be made. However, the rate of his mistakes was starting to get alarming. By the time his son told him he jacked a car, he pinched the bridge of his nose in disappointment.

With a sigh, he shook his head. “Benjamin, go enjoy the party.” He instructed his eldest son, before wrapping his arm around the shoulder of his youngest to lock him in. He turned both their backs away from the house, preferring lips to be left unread. He let his son go, satisfied with their placement. “You continually disappoint me, Vito.” He sighed, letting the silence speak for itself.

“I expect this behavior from Frank. He’s just wired that way. As much as I dislike it, I have to accept that. But you? My youngest boy? No. You aren’t that way. You know better.” He lectured. “We’re going to work this out.” He slapped his son’s cheek lightly, before shaking his head. “Have you spoken with Paul? About the car?” Salvatore questioned. In the back of his mind, he knew he’d have to take measures into his own hands to help curve his son’s erratic behavior. Whip him back into shape. But for now, the legal ends needed to be wrapped up before he could move forward with what he had in-mind.

 

[myrkwise]

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

Sylvia Harrington
​

​

Staring straight at her apprehensive reflection in the mirror, Sylvia brushed aside a length of uncomely rouge hair with a single flick of her wrist. Her floral dress had been painstakingly fussed over, each minute and barely noticeable detail woven with calculating intent. It was to her advantage, of course, to appear as well-put together and elegant as possible in front of her in-laws... Particularly the rather lucrative and feisty sort that characterized the Marinos.

Her husband's bellowing from below the stairs provoked only a middling sigh to exit her lips, casting a soft fog on the glass in front of her face. Did she approve of their boys' escapades? Not in the slightest. But she had come to expect such rambunctious behavior from them... and it wasn't as if any further panic and rage at this point was going to make much of a difference. Thus was the way of the world.

After a few moments of contemplation had passed, Sylvia made her way downstairs, with an aura that gleamed with a superficial, glitzy sort of beauty. She eyed John Joseph with a curious - almost challenging - look, before offering her hand.

"About time to go, is it not?" She sighed.

​

NanLia

 

[Misty Gray]

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

Benjamin Marino​

Benjamin listened as Vito told their father about his antics in Great Neck. "Antics" being far too a light word for what it really was. Having not been acknowledged by his brother, he decided not to speak up any further. Vito was content enough to retell his story and dig a deep hole. Benjamin didn't need asking twice before leaving Salvatore and Vito to it. Their father would sort this one.

Returning into the house, Benjamin almost bumped into his mother who was about to go outside to coax Salvatore in to greet their guests. "Mom. You've done a great job," he told her, pulling her in for a quick hug. Breaking away, he keep one arm around her and strategically made it so her back was facing the patio doors, preventing her from seeing whatever was going on with his father and Vito.

"Thank you, Ben," Margaret told him. "I'm a firm believer in if something needs doing right, then I'm best to do it myself," she pointed out. "And this is something that needed to be done right." Studying her son, she could see beneath his cool exterior to know there was something on his mind. However, this was not an appropriate time or place, so she made a mental note to probe further another day. "Now, where are my granddaughters?" she asked, flashing a smile.

"They're in the house somewhere," he told her. "Meanwhile, I think there's a bottle of whiskey somewhere with my name on." Leaving his mother to find Kathryn and Cassandra, Benjamin headed into the kitchen to retrieve the bottle of bourbon he'd kept in one of the cupboards.

As he filled the glass tumbler, he looked up in time to see Frank enter the room. "Frank. A pleasure to see you, as always," he greeted him, his tone carrying the typical dryness that often accompanied words to his brother. "How are you?" he asked, managing a familiar smile for him.

neverbackdown (Frank)

 

[Misty Gray]

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

Elijah Wilson​

After helping a couple of guests into the house and directing them to the main event, Elijah had himself a quick glass of water before heading back to his post out front. As he approached the front door, he saw a familiar man enter the house holding flowers and wine. He'd been around long enough by now to know Henry was a friend and business partner of Benjamin. Despite having seen the man on a numbers of occasions, he wasn't someone he'd engaged in direct, one-to-one conversation with. Only brief pleasantries and that sort of thing.

"Oh. You shouldn't have," he smirked and spoke in a deadpan tone in regards to the gifts the man was holding. In the split-second after his comment, he mentally kicked himself for it. That wasn't the kind of thing a man said to another man, especially not to a friend and associate of the Marinos. No matter how trusted he was by the family, it simply wasn't a wise thing to do. "Of course it's for Salvatore," he corrected himself, his face having reddened a little, slightly embarrassed by his faux pas.

"Do you need any help?" he offered. Again, he berated himself for another idiotic comment. Henry was clearly capable of carrying a bottle and a bouquet of flowers. That said, he was also easy on the eye, in a world where Elijah couldn't exactly be open about it. He'd briefly lost himself in that fact. "What I mean is. I can show you where the gift table is," he said, brushing aside any awkwardness.

NanLia (Henry)

 

[NanLia]

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

John Joseph Harrington​

John Joseph paused in his preening as he heard movement on the stairs, he stepped back and waited for Sylvia to step into the foyer with him, letting the quiet pause between them grow, certain he would not be the first to speak and absolutely would not acknowledge his frustration. He raised a single eyebrow as he surveyed her and couldn’t prevent the slight twitch of his lips into a smirk.

Slyvia always had a way about her, ever since their first meeting. She was forever poised, calm and seemingly in control. He’d known her a long time and knew exactly how to get under her skin if he wanted to.

He inhaled deeply and sighed, taking her outstretched hand with his free one, turning to lead her out of their home and down the stairs to their awaking car. The driver stood at attention, holding the door open for them. JJ held her hand and waited for Slyvia to slide in before heading around the vehicle to get in the other side.

Once they were on the way, JJ tilted his head to address Slyvia. “You need to get those boys in order.” A simple statement, said with little inflection, despite the heat of anger he felt speaking the words. He held his cane with both hands resting over the handle, looking straight ahead down the road.

myrkwise - Slyvia

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

Henry Booker​

Henry paused hearing someone approaching and then a voice he recognized. He turned to see the smiling face of Elijah, someone he’d seen in the past the few times he’d attended family functions here. He smirked, shaking his head slowly. “If I had known you’d appreciate them so much, I would have brought you some too.” He paused. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

As he was offered help he could see the flush of embarrassment creep further up the other man’s neck. His smile never faltered as Elijah went on to correct himself and direct him to the gift table. “Actually, I do need some help, can you direct me to the kitchen? I always get turned here.” He shrugged a single shoulder.

“I’m sure some of the staff there can help me find a vase;” He wiggled the bouquet. “They’re for Margaret, as I don’t this Sal would appreciate the gesture as much as you have.” Henry winked playfully.

Misty Gray - Elijah

 

[neverbackdown]

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

Kathryn Russo
​

With the anniversary of her mother’s death approaching, Kathryn had been feeling out of sorts. Her thoughts were consumed by memories of her mother and the dreadful night she died. Every time she closed her eyes, the image of her mother’s lifeless body haunted her. The fact that the case remained unsolved only made things worse. Around this time every year, reporters swarmed like vultures, scrambling to write the best story and get a big payout, and Kat was beyond sick of it.

She couldn’t fathom how her sister, Cassie, wanted to become one of them. To Kat, reporters were nothing but vermin, preying on the misfortunes of others with no regard for humanity or morals. She’d made her opinions on the matter crystal clear when Cassie first mentioned her ambitions. Still, Cassie was her sister, and no matter how much she disagreed, Kat would always stand by her.

The drive to their grandparents was short and somewhat tense as their father mentioned the reporters and time of year "I wont say a word to them rats" she mumbled bitterly before shooting an apologetic look towards her sister "please don't become like one of them vultures, do like... nice reporting?" she pleaded before a smirk played on her lips as she added "if that is such a thing"

While Kat’s relationship with her father was still rocky at best, she reciprocated his hug and silently promised herself to be on her best behavior today—or at least to avoid talking back or fighting with him. It was her grandfather’s birthday, after all, and she knew this time of year was just as hard on her dad as it was on her and Cassie.

Once their father left them, Kat turned to Cassie with a mischievous glint in her eye and a smirk on her lip as she looped her sisters arm in her own "I think it would be best if we found the beverage table right now, what do you say?" she asked, although it was not really a question, rather she was telling her sister that they would be finding and having the alcohol.

After strolling around the house, Kat finally found the goldmine but as she moved towards it, a figure appeared through the door stopping Kat in her steps “Grammy!” she announced happily, using the nickname she’d called her grandmother since she was a child. Her face lit up as she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her in a warm hug.

“The place looks beautiful as always,” Kat said with a grin. “You’ve outdone yourself.” she added as she moved back to allow her sister to hug and great their grandmother.

************
Int;-
Misty Gray (previously Ben // now Margaret)
myrkwise - Cassandra

 

[neverbackdown]

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

Frank Russo
​

Since Frank knew his day—and likely night—would be spent at the family home for his father's birthday, he made sure to check in on the nightclub that morning. He was especially thorough after what had happened to Ana the previous year. If it had of been anyone else, Frank wouldn't have even batted an eyelash at the ordeal but since she was practically family at this point, Frank had been more vigilant, keeping a closer eye on the club’s operations and the people involved. He made sure everything was running smoothly, not leaving any room for surprises before heading out to spend the rest of the day with his family.

As Frank arrived at the house he spotted his mother talking to Elijah outside and couldn't help but smirk as he overheard their conversation. He waited back a moment as he took his time to lock the car door and leisurely strolled to the front door after his mother had gone inside. "Doorman by day, driver by night" he teased as he approached him "Don't worry about her, come in and have a drink once people stop arriving, no-one is stupid enough to attack his birthday and besides its not like they'll get very far" he added with a wink but as with Frank there was something more sinister beneath his statement, an unsaid threat hanging in the air all said behind the guise of a grin.

Unable to spot his mother now that he was inside, he made his way out to where he knew his father would be, the back garden. As Frank stepped into the garden, he immediately noticed his father and Vito, his dad’s familiar posture with his arm around his youngest brother’s shoulder telling him all he needed to know. That stance was the unmistakable sign that Vito had done something that would surely have Frank’s name attached to it by the end of the night. With a roll of his eyes, Frank quickly turned on his heel, retreating back into the house. He could greet his parents later. Right now, he needed a drink and a few moments to let the inevitable chaos settle

Frank stepped into the kitchen, eyes scanning for the prize—Ben's hidden bottle of bourbon. But as soon as he entered, he saw Ben already holding it and sighed internally. He raised an eyebrow and walked over to the counter, grabbing a glass for himself. “Beat me to it, I see,” Frank remarked with a dry chuckle, pouring himself a generous amount of the bourbon. “Can’t complain though. You?” he added, leaning against the counter and giving his brother a nod of acknowledgment.

He looked around to make sure his mother was not in earshot before turning back to his brother “What’s Vito done now?” Frank asked with a smirk, “Saw the old man with his arm around him that's never a good sign"

*****
Int;-
Misty Gray (Elijah and Ben)

 

[Misty Gray]

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

Elijah Wilson​

Elijah nodded when Henry accepted his offer of directing him inside. He was relieved that Henry took his comment lightly, as it was intended. As they walked deeper into the house, Elijah still felt the need to clear things up. "I do apologise," he said, managing to relax again after his risky comment. "Before I got deeply into standing by front doors and driving cars," he began, his tone briefly turning dry at the idea of standing by the Marinos front door being exciting, "I was always big on gardening. Made quite a living from it and I've kept an appreciation for a decent bouquet," he explained, hoping to fully clear things up, even if Henry hadn't seemed offended. Granted, somewhere on the inside, the idea of receiving a gift from the man beside him seemed like an appealing idea, for more reasons than one.

They both stopped alongside the gift table and Henry mentioned needing to find a vase. "Of course..." he began. He listened as he was told who the flowers were for, with the specific mention of them not being Salvatore's thing. This evoked a smirk from Elijah. "I think you're right. I don't have him down as a bouquet of flowers kind of man. Margaret, however. She will love them, I'm sure."

After briefly scanning the room, he saw Margaret with her granddaughters, so opted not to interrupt them. Despite the risky and dangerous jobs he was known to do, Elijah wasn't quite so brave when it came to social interactions and etiquette. Hell, he was sure once the house was more filled with guests, he'd be grateful to be standing outside away from the crowd. He didn't mind much when it came to interacting one-on-one or within a small group, but he still couldn't help but notice how easy it was talking to Henry.

"Hold that thought," he told him, a serious expression returning to his face. Leaving Henry on the spot, he walked quickly through the hallway to find one of the staff members who he'd seen helping Margaret with decorating for the party. After a short time of searching, the young woman located one of the unused vases she'd remember putting into storage. Now, securely holding it, Elijah returned to Henry and set it down on the gift table. "How's that?" he asked.

NanLia (Henry)

 

[Misty Gray]

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

Benjamin Marino​

It was no surprise that Frank had been heading to the kitchen to seek out Benjamin's bourbon. He was used to his brother's need to have what wasn't his, be it business-related or merely possessions. As it happened, the desire for his alcohol didn't bother him so much, so Benjamin easily shrugged it off and allowed Frank to pour himself a glass.

"I'm doing well enough," he told him. "I've had reporters sniffing around recently, so we need to make sure nobody gives them anything. The last thing the girls need is their privacy being invaded and printed in the papers." Even if Frank didn't care about his feelings, Benjamin knew the man cared about his nieces.

When his brother looked around before asking about Vito, it was clear whose benefit the double-checking was for. None of them wanted their mother to get wind of it. She wouldn't appreciate their brother's behaviour and she was more hot-headed than their father once she got a bee in her bonnet about something.

"Vito's gone and got himself in trouble. He was out last night and has made a whole big mess, from what I heard. I can't blame our dad for being disappointed about this one." Knocking back some of his whiskey wasn't enough to wash away the words that were edging closer out of his mouth. Setting his glass down on the counter, he eyed Frank directly. "He's been taking too many leaves out of your book, is what I think. Who else in this family is as irresponsible?" he asked, smirking back at his brother.

neverbackdown (Frank)

 

[NanLia]

The Marino Residence
- Queens, New York City -

Henry Booker​

Henry arched an eyebrow at Elijah’s apology, a slow smile spreading across his lips, however, when the other man went on Henry was surprised by what Elijah had confessed. “Impressive.” He murmured, it wasn’t often he heard of men admitting to enjoying things typically deemed feminine or low-brow. He supposed there weren’t many men he spent time around now that could count themselves as part of the working populace. It was genuinely endearing to hear that the simple gesture of selecting a bouquet for the lady of the house would be appreciated by more than just her. “I’m glad to hear it.” He’d brought Margaret flowers in the past and she always seemed to enjoy them but it was hard to tell if it was simple politeness or if she truly did like them. At least she’d never told him to stop bringing them…

As instructed, Henry remained where he stood, noting that Margaret was now nearby but Elijah hadn’t sought her out for assistance. When the man returned with the vase and set it down, he nodded. “It’s perfect.” He set the bottle of wine down among the other gifts before slipping the bouquet, wrap and all, then stepped back to appraise the work. It looked like trash, but he certainly didn’t know how to make it look any better.

“I suppose you’ll be busy for the evening.” Henry went on, focusing his sight on the flowers as he attempted to remove the ribbon and craft paper that kept it bound without spilling the water over the gift table. “But if you get a chance, come by and have a drink with me.” He tilted his head toward Eli and smiled. “I think I’d like to hear more about your gardening.”


Misty Gray - Elijah

 

[ZarbofftheFirst]

Vito Marino​

Inside the Marino Residence
Vito struggled to look his father in the face as he was lectured. The facts stung worse than punches. He knew he had to tell Salvatore about what Paul was up to.

“Paulie said he would take care of it," Vito said. "He said Great Neck’s a small town. And a rich guy with no car was pretty easy to find there. Paulie said Mister Galloway and that other guy will probably keep quiet just to avoid the hassle with the Canadian booze they had there. He said it wasn’t so much about the law, or something like that.”

Vito knew he probably had a long, painfully boring and awkward day ahead of him the next day. He still remembers the first time he had a screw-up. Salvatore and Vito stood in the Queens countryside in one of its many partitioned fields. Vito held a pistol, while Salvatore was hunched over him. It was easy pickings. One tin can. One rotten apple. Salvatore and Vito smiled together with each shot of the puny pistol. Salvatore pointed to a rusted tractor engine. “Never shoot something like that unless you have real firepower,” Vito remembered. Vito fired a shot. It bounced off the top and into a withered bull's skull. Salvatore looked at Vito in disappointment and called it a day.

Vito hoped that his explanation could save him a worse lashing from Salvatore, though he knew when his father said, “We’re going to work this out,” it meant being wrung out like a wet rag. He turned his head slightly, hoping he could be let loose by Salvatore.
ReverseTex

 

[ReverseTex]

The Marino Residence
ZarbofftheFirst
Pagemaster
Salvatore Marino​

It wasn’t much of a surprise to hear Vito preemptively went to Paul. Despite his mindless antics, the boy had a brain. When he chose to use it. Salvatore nodded, content with his son’s response as of now. “Then it’s out of your hands now,” he said. It was no surprise to see Vito squirm, uncomfortable with the present situation. But that’s exactly what the boy needed. “You’ll get a call this week from me to settle this behavior of yours. You’ll show up. Sober, clear-headed, and ready to work.” He patted his son’s shoulder. “If your mother asks what happened, tell her you were moving cargo down at the harbor and a crate nicked you, alright?” Gesturing to his own eye, he shook his head in disappointment. With that, he patted Vito’s shoulder twice, his signal that his son was free. “Go enjoy the party,” he sighed.

For just a moment, he lingered on his own outside. Salvatore didn’t want to deal with everyone just yet. He needed to sort this business out first, but that meant bobbing and weaving around the rest of his birthday festivities. Everything needed to be clear with Paul and Patrick before he went and hunted down his enforcers. Vito was getting reassigned to tougher work, like it or not. With one deep breath, in and out, he thought briefly of the announcement he planned to make. With this on the back of his mind, it didn’t make it easier. But there was never a good time for these things. He had to face the music.

Immediately, the inside of the house was full of general chatter. With hiding outside, he forgot how congested and loud his house got when it was full. If he had to presume, Patrick would be perched somewhere. His accountant wasn’t known to move much considering his horrid injuries. And he had a feeling if he could hunt him down, Paul wouldn’t be far behind... Amidst the happy birthday’s and greetings, sure enough, he spotted Paul well before he noticed Patrick sitting. “Gentlemen,” Salvatore slipped between them, clasping Paul’s shoulder in greeting. Once both men got their well wishes out of the way, he narrowed in.

“Paul, we need to discuss Vito. And the will.” He turned to his lawyer, annoyance evident. It was also clear; he knew the truth rather than the fictitious story. “You too, Patrick. All of us need to have a quick chat.” He remarked. With that implied, he needed to sneak away to his office without his wife noticing. Thankfully, she seemed occupied, which meant an easier path. Once Patrick was up and moving, he made sure to keep his pace fair to the man.

Once the trio were inside, whoever was last knew to close the door behind them. Salvatore poured himself a glass of whiskey, offering to pour the other gentlemen some if they requested. Once they were watered, he made his way to lean against the front of his desk. Two cushioned chairs faced the desk, if anyone preferred to sit. “Let’s start with Vito,” he sighed. “Paul, what are we doing to rectify that situation?” He inquired. “I don’t need the Marino name tainted in the blue-collar parts of town. We need to keep them reliable.” He reminded.