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LowkeyLovingLoki

heartbeat on the high line
On the coast, a large mansion sits near a cliff's edge, solitary despite its prime location. The views of the beach are magnificent, but that isn't why there are people at the normally private property this time of year...

A number of highly reputable (both good and bad) criminals have been summoned, each having a different secret held over their heads to ensure their co-operation. None of them know why they've been asked to the previously top secret location, only that if they want to avoid anything getting out that they don't want to... they'd better do what they're asked. Even if that includes moving into a mansion with a group of other lawbreakers. Even if that means learning to work together. Even if that means risking their lives and making more enemies.

Even if it means becoming part of the elite group, the Korpus Teney.​
 
Tying her fiery hair up into a high ponytail, Elentiya slowly walks toward the mansion. She is dressed in an oversized sweater and ripped jeans, combat boots donned on her feet. She fidgets with the locket around her neck as she walks.

When she nears the front door, she lets out a held breath. How this person - whoever they are - found her and dug up the dirt about her past. It isn't okay. She isn't one to be blackmailed or even messed with. People who mess with Elentiya often end up with a black eye at best.

Raising her hand, she knocks out a beat onto the front door of the mansion. The cries of birds echo through the empty space around the mansion, the sound of waves crashing down below the cliffs.
 
Cassandra Stanton:
Cassandra pulled the key out of the ignition on her black 1967 ford mustang convertable as she pulled up at the mansion and lightly stroked the wheel. It was one of her babies a clinet had left at her shop before unfortunately getting his head blown to pieces. She flew a hasty text to Blake reading "The daffodils aren't in season."
It had meant she had nothing to report and that she won't reply for a while. The last thing she needed was an APB put out on her for skipping out on the terms of her agreement.

She spotted a red head already at the door and rolled her eyes and leant over the back seat to retrieve a large duffel bag. And hurling it over her shoulder she stepped out of the car. She'd come casual; denim jacket falling off one shoulder and her beat up converse with the fraying laces. As she walked up she coughed slightly to get the other girls attention. "Anyone home?"
Her hand slid into a pocket and pulled a ciggerette out placing it between her lips before lighting. Her eyes were icy but she looked the girl up and down slightly starting to already analyse her within minutes of laying eyes on her.
She looked around at the mansion and narrowed her eyes a little making a mental note to map as much of it out by the end of the day incase things went south.

Interactions: TayMaiTer TayMaiTer
 
The small girl turns to look up at the woman. First impression of her? Bitchy. But then again, Elentiya couldn't blame her. They were being blackmailed and dragged out to this mansion in the middle of nowhere.

She eyes the car the woman arrived in. "No. Not that I can tell." She crosses her arms, her petite body portraying annoyance.

She runs her gaze up and down the woman, from her fraying laces in her converse, to the jacket hanging off a shoulder. She tsks, thinking of all the ways she could make this girl beautiful, but probably wouldn't. Elentiya's emerald eyes bore into the woman's, not intimidated by her height in the slightest.

She has grown used to people being taller than her. And people teasing her about it. Easiest way to deal with it was to make her bite a hell of a lot more painful than her bark.

Interaction: DarkRumours DarkRumours
 
Romir Zamilodchikova

Rome thought it was way too hot to be outside at that moment. He also was not a massive fan of walking up to a literal cliff, but desperate times and all that, right? And these certainly were desperate times, when some fucker decided they could just blackmail him out of nowhere. Romir fully intended to get to the bottom of this, and as soon as possible. He wasn't here for this secret mission bullshit.

He approached the mansion after what felt like the longest hike of his entire life, dressed in black heeled boots, black skinny (and I mean skinny) jeans and a cropped, long-sleeved, blood red top, sunglasses covering his eyes. As he got closer he spotted two women seemingly waiting outside. Ah. So this was a group scenario then? Interesting, but he still didn't care enough to stick around for very long.

"Hi, ladies," he called, flashing his fake grin at them. "Didn't realise there was a party going on." He walked right past them and tried the doorknob, letting out a frustrated sigh when it didn't budge. He looked back at the women. "I don't know about you, but I just burn too easily in the sun." He took a step back, waited a moment to get in the right position, and then just... well, he kicked the door in. Heeled boot and all.
 
Oliver Rodriguez





Oliver arrived at the mansion on a navy blue colored motor bike. It wasn't his. He... Borrowed it from one of his clients who refused to pay. Once he arrived he spotted a car already parked in front of the building. His brows furrowed in confusion. Were this person's henchman here? He patted his dagger where it lay strapped to his calf, under his black cargo pants. His gun, in its holster at his hip, under his slightly oversize black and yellow diamond patterned sweater. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Even on the bike his bridge piercing and septum ring felt hotter than usual. So did his rings and chain lock choker. He was a fan of jewelry.





He retied his hair half up as he always does. As he was walking up, he watched as this 'kid' wearing heeled boots kicked the door open. 'So... Not his henchmen?..' Oliver smiled, impressed that he could even do that. He didn't seem the type.


He then turns his attention to the two girls. He smirked at this woman who had an icy stare. She'll be interesting to toy with. He turns to the other-... He.. Looks down.. Towards the other girl. His eyes widen and he smiles a toothy smile. He sucks in a breath. 'What is a child doing here?' He bursts out laughing, bending over and clutching his stomach.
 
Cassandra Stanton:

Watching the scene unfold she let out a disapproved sigh as she stubbed out her ciggerette on the floor. Some guy had come in here throwing around smiles acting as if it was a frat party and then kicked in a perfectly good door like a bull in a china shop.
Pulling her duffel slightly closer she thought about how she could of had that door open in minutes with one of her more experimental explosives and she couldn't help feel a mild irritation.
She turned away as she heard a motor and watched as another guy turned up on a motorbike. For a brief second her eyes let slip a glimmer of excitement, but her stolid expression returned quickly.
As the guy obnoxiously made a comment about the red heads height Cass had stepped up to the bike and ran a hand over it gently feeling the smoothness of it ignoring his nauseating laugh, she cared little for any drama that may ensue between them after all and was content to feel the warmth from the engine scorch her finger tips slightly. She cooed under her breath "Well aren't you a beaut...".
If anyone looked at her it was clear she was in a different world then the others as she started to toy with some of the parts. From a quick look she could confirm the kickstand needed tightening a little as usage had loosened it. She couldn't stand imperfection and before anyone could object she was on the ground wiggling it a bit before unzipping the duffel to rummage for the correct tool. She threw a look behind her and looked the guy up and down before licking the lower of her lip slightly. It could easily be mistaken for an appreciation of the male form but in honesty she wanted to kill some time and fixing was what she did, "Considering we should see if others turn up before going into unknown territory, do you mind? Just a small tune up."
Again, not feeling as though permission was really required to fix something broken she started to tighten the bolts and raising back up on one knee she brushed her hair back from her face and dropped the wrench back into the bag. It made a resonating sound as it knocked several of the items in there and she hefted herself back up and surveyed the trio again.

Interactions: Caffeine_Obsessed Caffeine_Obsessed
 
Martin didn't know why he was here.

Scratch that. He knew very well why he was here - he simply didn't know why he, of all the criminals in this world, was called to be here. Some more narcissictic part of him wanted to think it was because he is simply that important, but he had enough sense to know that wasn't it. While he is good at what he does, with a sparkling reputation to boot (not that he would let anything not-so-nice get out), there were bigger fish out there. Shining smiles and charming confidences that draw the eye can be found elsewhere, he knew. He is not the only liar making money in this town, even if he is the best in his very humble opinion.

So why has somebody decided to blackmail him?

The faces and names of all who would wish him harm had flashed through his mind, but he knew his enemies would go around it a more direct way if they found dirt on him. This, though, was much more discreet than any criminal that hated Martin - not the oh-so-familiar style of arrogance and threats. They would beat him up first, if nothing else, not just give him a letter before disappearing. But no, it happened so quickly that Martin barely had time to stop and think about what just happened. He was just stumbling out the Silver Star bar with a girl whose name he already forgot on his arm, laughing loudly at nothing in particular, when a shadow-faced man walked to him. Martin never saw him before - not that he would remember his face in his drunken haze, anyways. But all he remembers is the man mumbling 'for you', sticking paper into Martin's hand before losing himself in the crowd. Martin only had enough time to open the sealed letter lazily as he and the girl walked along the street, glancing at the contents.

What it contained, however, was more powerful than any threatening messages or violence could be.

Martin almost choked the second his eyes landed on the photograph. A dark-haired couple, a man and a woman, posed with a chubby-cheeked toddler in their laps. All of them were smiling at the camera.

The words scribbled on the back made blood rush in his ears, hands trembling only a faction - a million questions screamed for answers in his head, but nothing came except for a heavy ball of dread settling right beneath his rib cage. The girl (what did she look like, again?) slurred some or other question, but Martin didn't hear anything over the wild beating of his heart. He mumbled some half-assed excuse about being tired before rushing off, not giving a shit if he left her offended and baffled - all that mattered was the picture and what it demanded of him.

Come to this adress. Do as you're told.

Or else.

He ripped the picture apart when he came home, flushing it down the toilet. A symbolic gesture - he knew that whoever got a hold of it surely had more. The thought made Martin sick to the stomach. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Martin was afraid. Afraid that his past was finally catching up to him. That any longer and it will all start to break apart like a castle of sand. The words he read seemed to follow wherever he went in the following days; when he slept, when he ate, when he talked. And his hand burned, like it was still clutching the picture of a memory long-buried. He knew he had no choice.

Which is why he found himself in front of a sprawling mansion, the scent of the sea on the breeze.

His car let out a creak of protest when he slammed it shut, stepping outside into the cooler air. The area was unfamiliar - he glanced around, taking everything it. It was a beautiful location, even with the looming mansion leering at him like a gigantic beast, waiting for him to step closer. He thinks he would find the building much more elegant if it weren't for the dread it built in him. Martin grimaced, fists clenching in the bottom of his suit jacket, taking in a shaky breath. He was too far to make out any details from the place where he parked, but he could see a few figures standing by the wide entrance; the sight made him paused uncertainly. The message said nothing of other people. But really, did he have a choice? The man simply grit his teeth, stubbornly ignoring the nervous bundle in his stomach as he walked, gravel crunching under his shoes. It was only when he came closer that he made out the group; four people in total, excluding him.

A woman so short that her height would be humorous if his mood were not so dark; another, taller woman who was apparently fixing a motorcycle (he wondered if he should ask, but decided not to); a very ambitiously dressed man... kicking in the door with high heels? And a much taller man who seemed like he'd fit right in a biker bar, laughing at... something.

Martin blinked, taking everything in. Just what has he gotten himself into?

The man gave a tight, faux-friendly smile as he stopped by the entrance, fixing his casual suit. He observed each of them carefully, shoulders tense - he had no idea who these people are, or what they're even doing here. Maybe they're in the same situation he is. ''Well, hello.'' He started, brown eyes glancing over the colorful group. ''I take it you guys were also invited here? Or else it seems I stumbled on the wildest party in town.'' His smile grew, though it was distinctly humourless. As if things would ever be so easy.

Interactions: everybody in front of the mansion


 
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Romir Zamilodchikova

Before Rome could even take a step inside, the sound of a motorbike pulling up came from behind him. He turned, one foot on the threshold of the door, watching astall man made his way over, tying up his hair. So that was four people, total. Romir wasn't a fan of group scenarios, and he already knew he wouldn't be a fan of this one. He could only hope that no one else showed up. As he opened his mouth to greet the new addition, the other man was already cracking a joke about the shorter member of their new little team. A smile quirked at the corners of Rome's lips, but whatever joyful expression was on its way promptly disappeared as he spotted another man walk towards them.

Romir was just getting more and more frustrated, and the appearance of this guy didn't help at all. He rose a brow, gave the man a very obvious once-over, and then scoffed. "Da. You are certainly dressed for such a party," he remarked, before turning away and finally entering the mansion. Was there anything actually wrong with the man's outfit? Absolutely not. Was Romir just catty and pissed? 100%.

"Hello!" He called as he went inside, his Russian accent making itself even more pronounced with the single word. He reached behind him to pull a knife from his belt, just in case. He flipped the knife a few times in his hand. "I'm not in the mood for games!"

He crossed the foyer of the mansion, into the main sitting room, which was complete with a few couches, armchairs, and a large TV screen. Sitting on the coffee table in the middle was a laptop. Romir felt inclined to stab it out of rage, but held himself back as he approached, slowly. It seemed to be on Skype, the mouse pointer hovering above the call button for an encrypted number. A sticky note sat on the camera of the laptop that stated:

Do NOT call until everyone shows up.

Romir scoffed and straightened up, looking back behind him towards where the others where. "Пожалуйста, не надо больше," he muttered to himself. (Please, no more.)
 
Oliver Rodriguez

Oliver- not having the time to reply- slowly starts to dissipate his laughter down. His jaw clenches for just a second, before he shrugs and waves her off. He's very possessive of his things(even if they weren't originally his in the first place.)

"Knock yourself out Tony!"

He starts laughing again, wiping away an imaginary tear from his eye.

"Get it? Tony? Like Tony Stark?" He smiles and rolls his eyes. "Joke's not funny if I have to explain it Tony!" He gives her a close eyed smile.

He was about to pop another joke, until he heard a car engine stutter off. He turned to look behind himself. Oliver slightly tilted his head as he looked at the stranger from head to toe. ' He looks... Professional .' He thought.





Oliver gave a slight awkward chuckle, as he could sense this man's joke wasn't a joke he should laugh at.

"Must be a party then! Why else are you all here?"

He gives a more louder laugh than the chuckle he just did. Oliver wasn't so sure he could trust anyone here. They might just be here for a different reason. They must be. Did they know his secret? Did the bastard who contacted him already send a mafia group to come get him? If so, this looks like a shabby group to send. They must be underestimating him.





He smiled as he heard the boy in heels make his snarky comment. He kept his smile, but his eyes slightly narrowed. Why were they here. It doesn't seem like they are here to have any sort of fun. Definitely not a party. He followed the boy inside, even if he was a bit hesitant to do so. As he walked in he crossed his arms and looked around. It seemed more luxurious than he thought it would be. It seemed almost abandoned from the outside. He spotted the small laptop and its note. He scoffed. Why in the hell would he listen to this prick who was too scared to face him himself.
 
Cassandra Stanton:
Cassandra looked at the guy who owned the motorcycle and stared him down. "Let's just agree it just wasn't funny and be grateful I haven't decided to charge you for my services." She seemed almost bored by his over the top personality and faked a yawn until she heard the noise of another vechile. She didn't want to look but she did and instantly regretted it. She was face to face with a car so used she didn't even know where to begin.
As people started moving inside Cass slid coyly past the new guy with the car from hell before stating,
"I wouldn't even know where to start on a heap of junk that large," she smirked and rubbed her cheek slightly, a small oil smudge being left on her cheek.
She lit up another ciggerette as she walked through the mansion and found a bottle of whiskey on a top shelf before cracking the lid open and finding a glass in a cabinet, helping herself. Sliding into a chair and placing her feet on the table she shrugged fairly unnerved and the duffel fell to the floor,
"We've all been good little foot soliders till now. Why stop?"

Interactions: pretty obvious at the moment xD
 
Jade Baker

What a beautiful day it is. The sun's out. Not a single cloud is in the sky. A light breeze blows through Jade's purple and gold hair. She twirls around and dances in a grassy meadow. Even the smile on her face couldn't show how much joy she was having in her heart. Suddenly, she felt a shaking. It was the ground shaking like an earthquake. The force threw her off balance and caused her to fall. Her pleasant dream was starting to become a nightmare and she was ready to wake up. If she only knew what she was in for, she would've realized that the true nightmare was waiting for her to wake up.

As Jade wakes up, she realizes that she is on the floor of a limousine. The earthquake she felt was nothing more than the vehicle stopping and causing her to fall off the edge of the seat. She softly speaks to herself while looking around. "A limo? Why am I in a-" before she could answer, her eyes open wide as she realizes her situation. "That note. It had my name on it. My real name....and whoever wrote it threatened to expose my secret if I didn't cooperate. So I packed my things and got in the limousine that was waiting for me. Then, something got tossed in the back where I was. Must've been some kind of sleeping gas or something."

Jade gets out of the vehicle in her sleeveless purple and gold dress and purple heels. The dress length stops at her knees. She lets out a yawn and stretches. Immediately, she walks to the trunk and retrieves her luggage. Afterwards, the driver exits the area without even saying goodbye. Jade shrugs it off and looks at the mansion in the distance. As she steps closer to it, she notices some of the people there are already going inside. The woman stops and looks confused. "Wait a minute. Are those....people? The note didn't tell me about this." *gasp* "What if...what if this is a trap....and I've already been captured? What if these people know who I am? Maybe if I beg for mercy and possibly give them some money, they'll be generous and let me go." Jade's heart races furiously as she's filled with fear. She takes a few deep breaths and then nervously makes her way over to the mansion. On the outside, she notices a short girl that did NOT look happy to be there. There was also a woman who looked like she was taking a quick break from fixing a car that would eventually enter the mansion. A mechanic perhaps. Plus, there were already a few vehicles parked by the mansion. Then there was the smiling guy in the suit. Unlike the agitated young lady, he seemed to be happy to be here. It was unnerving considering the circumstances, but she decided against jumping to conclusions as she didn't know what he or anyone else but herself was here for. She gives a shy smile and waves at those outside regardless of whether or not they notice. As she gets to the entrance and slips inside, she sees more people. One of them was the guy whose laughter she could hear as she was getting out of the limo. She wasn't sure what was so funny, but he sounded like he was having a great time. Finally, the was the young man who was also wearing heels. He looked to be an unhappy camper as well. Jade waved at them while still having that same shy look on her face. She takes a moment to look around at the inside of the mansion. She hadn't been in one since back when her parents were still alive. The last thing to catch her attention is a laptop with a note on it explaining to not call until everyone had shown up. Was she the last entrant? Were there more people coming? Questions like those ran through her mind while she mentally practiced some 'Please don't kill me' speeches.


Interactions: Anyone
 
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James Mason

James knew this had to be a set-up, some colleague of his father luring him in. But, he couldn't resist the doubt that floated around his head. If it wasn't a trap, then someone outside of him and his father knew something they shouldn't. The note he received was clear about that. He wasn't reassured by the number of other cars that were in the driveway. This was supposed to be a private meeting, so who were all these people parked here? He parked his own blue Genesis G90, and stepped out to examine the mansion. It wasn't quite as impressive as his father's, but still better than some McMansions he'd seen.

He stood
at a full 6'3 with perfect posture and a lean, fit body. He smoothed his dark blue vest, which he wore over a classy white button-up, along with dark blue suit pants, and black suede shoes. His skin was a smooth, umber dark brown, and his black coiled hair was neat and cropped short. As he looked around, he noticed two women and a man outside the mansion, which further heightened his suspicions. He decided to keep his distance and just focus on getting inside. The sooner this was over, the better.

He was used to being on the other end of blackmail, the one who put other people in a corner to get what he wanted from them. Now was different, and he didn't enjoy being vulnerable like this. He was a respected journalist, he had worked his way up on his own after freeing himself from his father. He's a grown, albeit young at only 23, man and he wasn't going to let this scare him.

There were even more people inside the mansion, but most everyone here so far seemed as confused to be here as he was. He seemed to be debating whether to say anything as he took a seat by the laptop one of the men was angrily glaring at. He decided instead to do what he always did when he entered a strange place or met strange people, observe everything and anything of interest. Including the knife in the man's hand.
 
James Mason (Interaction: LowkeyLovingLoki LowkeyLovingLoki )

His eyes shifted from the knife to the man's, quite frankly immodest, clothing, then to his face. If he was going to get information out of anyone here, it didn't seem likely that it would come from him. Nevertheless, it was better than sitting anxiously until something or someone explained what was going on.

"I don't suppose you know why we were apparently all called here?" James asked. His smooth baritone clearly and properly enunciated every word. "I was under the impression this was something I was to do alone."
 
Oliver Rodriguez

Oliver leant his head back slightly and made a deep sigh. It’s been a while since he last had a drink. 5 hours too long. He hadn’t been this sober since.. well since high school. Or whenever someone serious comes in contact with him. He considered this blackmail serious, so he hadn’t had a drink. Not even a drop. It’s a bit harder for him to control himself sober. You would expect that from a drunk, but well.. Oliver is weird. He usually acts on impulse when sober. So that’s what leads to this.





He huffs out a breath of frustration. The cheeriness he had from before seems to have completely disappeared. He looks pissed. His jaw clenches, and his body is now tense. He pulls out his gun.





“Now what the hell is going on here?! Do you all work for him?! I swear to whatever’s out there I will kill somebody!” His voice is raised.





He’s not the patient type. If he gets too antsy or has built up with too much frustration or anxiety, he will lash out. His pet rat back at his apartment is the only thing that kept him calm. That, and his tendency to destroy things around him.
 
Cassandra Stanton:
Cassandra looked at the gun Oliver pulled and yawned pulling out her own gun 'Berta' and pointed it at him.
"Now. Obviously we're all a touch tense." She used her spare hand to take a lazy swig of the whiskey.
"We have two options though" she looked directly at Oliver, "you put that away. Have a drink and calm yourself. Or. We kill you. Being irrational will earn you no friends" she held the gun steady and smiled sweetly at him before surveying the rest of the room.
"Anyone else want to act like a crazy person?"
Interactions: Caffeine_Obsessed Caffeine_Obsessed
 
Martin's attempt at humor seemed to go unappreciated by most of the group (not that he expected anything different), but especially so from the eye-catchingly dressed man who just ever-so-politely kicked the door in. The unknown man gave Martin an unconvinced do-over, seemingly unimpressed, before saying something about 'you are certainly dressed for such a party'. Martin blinked in surprise, not even having enough time to be offended before the other man was off and gone inside the mansion, his accented voice calling inside the mansion. Martin gave a single, confused eyebrow before glancing down at himself - was his outfit really that out of place? He decided that no, that wasn't the case. His suit was nice, made by some foreign brand that was far too expensive for it to be reasonable, but not too much if you ask him. What was that guy's deal then? Those were big words from somebody dressed in skinny pants and leather high heels, anyway. Martin thought to be annoyed, but that guy seemed rather on edge, as most of them did - so maybe he can't hold it against him too much. He simply gave a tight smile, not caring if the other couldn't see it anymore. ''Funny.'' He said tartly, deciding to glance over the others instead.

At least one person apparently thought Martin was funny; it was the biker-looking man who was laughing before. 'Must be a party then! Why else are you all here?' The tall man said, offering another loud laugh. Martin didn't find it very funny, to be honest - but he gave a small smile nonetheless, even if it was forced. He wasn't in the mood for jokes, but he wasn't going to go out of his way to raise a stink. He did, however, wonder briefly if this intimidating-looking man was a class-clown type, or just an easy-going person. Maybe a bit of both. 'At least somebody is having fun...' Martin thought with no small amount of bitterness. ''Looks like a very crappy party so far.'' He gave a small shrug, watching as the pierced man followed into the mansion.

The very-bored looking woman that was fixing the motorcyle of before slid past him slyly - but not before shooting him a sharp smirk. 'I wouldn't even know where to start on a heap of junk that large.' She said, leaving a stripe of motor oil on her cheek. She disappeared as quick as she came, leaving Martin with a dumbfounded expression. He didn't know what she meant at first - was she talking about the motorcyle? - when he put two and two together, causing his shoulders to straighten with offense. Did she mean his car? Martin glanced off at the machine in question, giving it an apologetic look as if to comfort it over the woman's harsh words. So it's seen better days. How is that any of her business? It got him from point A to point B and that's all that matters. She must be a mechanic, then, if the way she was fixing the motorcyle wasn't obvious enough. ''Good thing it's not your heap of junk.'' He mumbled under his breath, already annoyed. Who the hell are these people and who gave them the right to criticise his mode of transporation?

Another girl in a colorful dress appeared a second later - seriously, how many of them were invited here? - and waved in their direction, looking very much like a rabbit getting ready to bolt from a group of bloodhounds. Martin gave her the friendliest nod he could muster, as fake as the smiles and laughs he gives his targets. She looked downright terrified as he walked past, in any case.

Martin was ready to believe half of the city was invited when another car pulled up, shiny and sparkly like the sports cars rich brats race down the streets in the nicer part of town. Martin couldn't help but give it a second glance, wondering just what mobster pulled up - a straight-backed, elegant man stepped out, passing right by Martin inside. Well, he looked... important, maybe.

The dark-haired man hesitated in front of the door for a second more, unsure - before letting out a barely-there sigh, knowing there's nothing else to be done. Everybody else was already inside and he wasn't sure if there was any point in sticking outside. He stepped inside, taking in the pristine walls and the tasteful art decorating the place - it was as fancy inside as it was outside, looking like one of those mansions in those glossy luxury magazines. Martin followed the sound of voices, fidning himself in a living room as nice as the hallway, the room already packed with others. A laptop sat smugly on the coffee table, set up on a Skype call of some sorts. 'Do not call until everybody shows up.' It commanded. Martin didn't even have the chance to think before -

The laughing guy of before started yelling, pulling out a gun.

'Now what the hell is going on here?! Do you all work for him?! I swear to whatever’s out there I will kill somebody!'

Oh, what the fuck.

Martin pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering if this was all just some elaborate nightmare. He had half the mind to be somewhat taken aback, but the weight of his gun hidden in it's holster was a comfort. He didn't know how a man who seemed in a jolly mood before could suddenly snap and pull out a gun of all things, but Martin was not sure how to feel. Shocked? Confused? Weirded out? All of those things and more.

At least the mechanic woman of before decided to react - by pulling out her own gun. Great, two strangers have their gun out now.

'You put that away. Have a drink and calm yourself. Or. We kill you. Being irrational will earn you no friends.'

As much as Martin wished he were anywhere else, he was glad this woman seemed to have an ounce of sense so far. Even if she did so rudely attack his car. Martin stuck on his best placating smile as he glanced before the gun-holding man and the woman, putting his hands up in a display of goodwill.

''She's right. There's no need for violence.'' He started, voice as soothing as he could make it. He only hoped it wouldn't piss the guy off even more. ''I don't know who you're talking about, but it looks we all got called here by somebody. If we wanted to kill you, don't you think we would go about it a different way? Inviting you out here just for all of us to attack you seems a bit... unpractical, doesn't it?'' It sure fucking does, genius, he wanted to sneer, but decided against it. Even if this man would deserve it for not thinking through this for at least a minute before going guns blazing.

 
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Jade Baker

Despite the obvious feelings of tension and uneasiness, things haven't gone off the rails. Jade is still worried and nervous. One of the guys was already holding a knife. Suddenly, the nicely dressed man looks at the man with the knife and asks if he knew why they were there. He also said that he was told he'd be alone when he got here. That oddly gave Jade a bit of relief. It seems like this wasn't a trap set by this group of people to capture her. In fact, she believes that it's likely none of these people know each other. Jade was also made to believe that she would be here by herself. Maybe...just maybe...she can get along with these people peacefully.

Theeeennnnnnnn the first domino fell. The guy who had been laughing hysterically moments ago was no longer in a joyful mood. He pulls out a gun and threatens to kill someone. This causes Jade to shriek in a panic as she runs and hides behind one of the couches. "NO! Please don't kill me! I-I don't know what's going on!" She shivers in fear as the mechanic pulls out a gun of her own and aims it at the angry man. After essentially telling him to calm down, the woman asks if anyone else wants to act crazy, which doesn't help Jade feel any safer. Th-they're crazy. They're all crazy. They're insane and they're gonna kill me! Who are these lunatics!? Why did I have to get dragged into whatever this is!? As these thoughts ran through her mind, the guy that nodded at her when she first showed up came in and supported the woman's words with pretty rational ones of his own. Judging by what he said, it seems like everyone in attendance was gathered by some unknown entity. As much as she would like to know more about what's happening, there was absolutely no way she would come out of hiding while weapons were drawn.


Interactions: Anyone that noticed her
 
Romir Zamilodchikova

So, there was more. A fair few more. A total of seven, including himself, by his count. He prayed - and he wasn't even religious - that there were no more because this group was driving him crazy already. And now one of them was talking to him and he was just nowhere near in the mood. Plus, he could practically feel this man judging him, and he was not here for that. He turned to look down at the man who was sitting and rose a brow. "Nyet," he denied, figuring the man could guess what he was saying. Really, if he had to learn English, Americans could stand to learn some other languages, too.

Before he could say anything else, the man on the motorcycle was suddenly pulling a gun out and yelling. Rome closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, refraining from cutting his own throat out of frustration. He was tempted to just walked straight out of there until one of the first women to arrive was calming the yelling man down, so he stayed. Just in case. He glanced over toward the direction of another woman (was she new?) now cowering behind a couch and he rolled his eyes. Some real professionals they had here.

And then the man in the suit was talking again and Rome was ready to end it all over again. He looked over at him and tilted his head. "You don't look like a man who would know the practicalities of killing someone," he commented, before promptly turning away and dropping himself onto the arm of the sitting man's chair, barely looking at the occupant.

"We should start with names, yes?" He suggested. He didn't actually care, but this would be much less confusing without wondering what everyone was called. Plus, it might help to work out why they were all there. They had to have something in common. "I'm Romir. My friends call me Rome, so you can't." He smiled in a not-totally-genuine way before gesturing to the group. "Whoever wants to go next."
 
James Mason

James found it much harder to relax his tense body after just seeing someone suddenly pull a gun out. But, as Romir gave his introduction, he felt obligated by the rules of etiquette to give his as well. It was an idiotic way of thinking, but he was terrified and very willing to defuse the situation in any way he could.

"My name is James," he paused. He always did before stating his full name. It might be considered proper to give your whole name, but he had a feeling these people didn't concern themselves much with what was 'proper'. Plus, he didn't feel well about telling them his last name, as if that's all they'd need to link him to his father. It was bad enough that this mystery person knew more about him than they should. "I would be very grateful if we could all take a moment to explain why we're all here before anyone draws more firearms."
 
Cassandra Stanton:
Not taking her eye off Oliver she stood up and backed back up to the drinks cabinet. She grabbed two more glasses with one hand and sat back down before lowering the gun on the table to pour the two new cups. She slid one over in the direction of Oliver and then slid one over to Martin. Her face still calm and contained. She nodded at Martin in acknowledgement. Slightly then looked at Romir then James.
"Cass. And I don't really expect anyone is going to say why we're really here apart from some guy managed to pull one over on us and for some crazy reason won't let up." She wanted to tell James to use his common sense a bit more but bit her tongue.
Eventually she peered over to the girl cowering behind the sofa and using a mildly scolding tone chastised her but it was edged with a softness,
"Pull yourself together. You're going to give women a bad name."

Interactions: LowkeyLovingLoki LowkeyLovingLoki jadafun jadafun LumaThePhoenix LumaThePhoenix mother of sorrows mother of sorrows Caffeine_Obsessed Caffeine_Obsessed
 
As the tall man who had entered on the bike cracked his joke about her height, she clenched her jaw. So close... she could so easily smash his foot... It is one thing to blackmail her. But the one thing she would not deal with was people teasing or even commenting about her height. Absolutely not.

She followed everyone into the mansion. But when people started to sit down, Elie chose to stand. The last thing she wanted was for her feet to not touch the ground when she sat down. Like a child. So, instead, the small girl leans against the wall with her arms firmly crossed. The bitchy woman immediately started helping herself to the alcohol, while everyone else gets comfortable. A small laptop rests on a desk in front of them.

She watches calmly as people begin pulling weapons on one another and yelling, while some of them introduce themselves. See, Elie doesn't need a weapon. While some people were masters at guns or knives, Elie was a master at hand-to-hand combat. She was fast as all hell, and near impossible to catch. If she had to use a weapon, it would be her small throwing knives. Two of which were strapped to her thighs. Overall, everything about Elentiya was... small.

Interactions: anyone
 
Jade Baker

Jade is covering her head while hiding behind the couch. Thankfully, no shots have been fired yet. Instead, it was starting to sound like cooler heads were prevailing. The knife wielder suggested everyone introduce themselves before introducing himself as 'Romir'. He says his friends call him 'Rome' and that no one here was allowed to do so. Jade decides that she's fine with this because she still considers them to be deranged monsters for the time being. The next person to greet the others went by 'James'. He seemed to be quite calm despite the hostile situation. He asks for everyone to explain why they're here. Unfortunately, Jade doesn't have the slightest clue as to what she's doing there. It also sounds like James doesn't know either. If that's the case, then it's possible that nobody knows why they're there. That could at least give them enough common ground to try and be cooperative......hopefully.

The first woman to give an introduction was the one that was working on some of the vehicles outside. She said her name was 'Cass' and she doubted anyone would say why they're there aside from some guy pulling one over on them. This further supports her growing belief that everyone here is more or less a stranger to the others. Then, she spotted Jade hiding behind the couch, telling her to pull herself together and that she was going to give women a bad name. "I'm sorry." She responded with sadness in her voice. Personally, Jade would rather that over giving living people a bad name by being killed. How can I pull myself together? I'm unarmed and I've already seen three people draw weapons. One of them even threatened to fire his gun. It feels like this place is one inadvertent shoulder bump away from turning into a shootout. I'd rather not be caught in the crossfire. Still, if I don't say anything, they might attack me. Maybe they'll spare me if I introduce myself.

Jade takes a couple of deep breaths to stop herself from shaking while collecting her thoughts. She slowly makes her way to her feet. Her eyes quickly scan the area. The purple-haired woman then looks down while holding her hands together in front of her. As she speaks, a bit of shakiness is mixed with her soft and sweet voice due to her being nervous. "My name is Jade. I apologize for panicking, but I'm not used to being near so many armed and dangerous people....or weapons in general. I'm guessing I'm the only one with that issue. The atmosphere was really tense and I just didn't want to end up a casualty due to a fit of rage." She turns her attention to the laptop. "From what I've heard so far, none of us have a clear understanding of what we're here for. If it's okay with everyone, I think we should at least try to be civil with each other until whoever gathered us all here explains why they did so." Jade then carefully walks from behind the sofa and quietly sits down.


Interactions: Everyone
 
Oliver Rodriguez

Once he saw a gun aimed at him, he tightened his own grip. He was too pissed and anxious to let up.

“What I need is none of your concern, Tony!”

Even when he’s like this, Oliver still manages to call her Tony.
DarkRumours DarkRumours

He turned his attention to the man who pissed him the least off at the moment. Until he made his comment.

“Don’t you patronize me!” He scowls.
mother of sorrows mother of sorrows




He didn’t even notice The purple haired girl duck behind the couch due to his rage.
LumaThePhoenix LumaThePhoenix




He swiveled his head towards where he heard the whistle. He got even more suspicious. This man intrigued him, but Oliver was still was too plagued by his own anxious thoughts.
pow pow




Once Oliver realized people were introducing themselves, he slowly put his gun down. It was still held tightly in his hand. He wasn’t ready to put it away just yet his body and jaw were still taut.





He hesitated with once step, but then huffed and mumbled under his breath. He walked angrily towards where The mechanic lady pushed the drink. He took it in his hand and chugged it down.





He turned his head towards the girl he didn’t even notice. ‘..when did these people get here?...’ once he heard what she had to say he felt just a little bit of guilt towards her. He looked down at his cup. He started mumbling nonsense under his breath again. He wasn’t willing to share who he was yet, since his anxiety was still stocked high.
 
A shrill scream of fear rang out only a few heartbeats later, seemingly belonging to one of the women by the tone - it was the nervous girl of before who waved at them, looking positively terrified out of her mind. She even went as far as jumping behind one of the couches to provide cover. 'NO! Please don't kill me! I-I don't know what's going on!' She babbled on in clear terror, hidden out of sight. A perfectly reasonable reaction, he supposes, though he couldn't help worrying it might provoke the gun-wielding man further. A shark will bite if it smells blood - people like that are not much different. Martin's smile stretched even further, hoping to come across as friendly and much better left un-shot. Thankfully, the pissed off man didn't take her moment of weakness as a sign to start attacking all of them, which was a small mercy in an already shitty situation.

The trendy-dressed man (who, for some reason, has something against Martin's perfectly good fashion sense) stared, though, like he might start killing somebody if the gun holding guy doesn't get to it first. Martin could see his eyeroll from here, which would be impressive if they weren't in such a delicate situation right now. He looked annoyed beyond belief, even as he glanced in Martin's direction. 'You don't look like a man who would know the practicalities of killing someone,' He said with a tilt of his head, turning around a moment later to sit on the arm of chair. The gesture's clear disinterest provoked Martin somewhat, causing his face to tighten the tiniest amount. Was this behaviour the result of the tense atmosphere, or was it just this man's personality? ''You make it sound like it's a bad thing.'' He offered, giving a bright chuckle. ''We're sensible people, aren't we? I'm sure we don't need to kill anybody here just because of a misunderstanding.'' ...Yeah, so far, these people hardly seemed sensible. Or anything close to it, really. Excuse Martin for trying to be a voice of reason.

'We should start with names, yes?' The fair-haired man said only a moment later, not waiting for anybody to start before him. 'I'm Romir. My friends call me Rome, so you can't.'

Apparently, the others were down with that trail of action. The tall, pristine-looking man with his shiny car spoke up right after this Romir, voice as elegant as his appearance. 'My name is James.' There was some hesitation after that, though what it meant, Martin didn't know - it was as quickly gone as it was there, replaced by words once again. 'I would be very grateful if we could all take a moment to explain why we're all here before anyone draws more firearms.' Would you look at that. A person who actually seemed same. Martin gave him a quick do-over, storing the names in the back of his head.

''Agreed.'' Martin gave a faux-sheepish smile, lowering his hands to his sides.

He saw the mechanic woman still holding her gun move, which made his head swivel in a worry she decided that violence was the answer, after all; but no, she was only makign her way to the drinks cabinet calmly. She took two more glasses, eyes still carefully set on the angry man, before she poured the remained of one of the bottles inside. Martin blinked in surprise when she actually slid one of them towards him, giving a nod in his direction. The dark-haired man didn't miss a blink - he took the carefully cleaned glass, giving a grin and raising it in thanks. Lord knows he'll need some alcohol to get through this. He leaned against the wall casually, taking a careful sip. 'Cass. And I don't really expect anyone is going to say why we're really here apart from some guy managed to pull one over on us and for some crazy reason won't let up.' She turned to the terrified girl then, telling her to pull herself together - though not with some kindness. Martin observed Cass for a moment; you know, she might have insulted his poor car, but she did seem actually reasonable. Plus, she gave Martin alcohol and that gesture made him gloss over her previous comment. Alcohol tends to have that effect on him.

Martin would have thought that this was it, everybody was here, even if things are already crazy - but it looked like not everybody was here yet. A man who looked like he hasn't had a good night's sleep since last year stepped inside, letting out a low whistle with a bottle in hand and wolf-sharp smile on his face. 'Must have got to the rodeo late.' He started before gestuing at the biker-looking man vaguely, asking him if he's going to 'shit or get off the pot'. Martin blinked, wondering just where this new man picked up that metaphor from. ''Don't worry, you didn't miss anything important.'' Martin offered, taking another sip of the burning drink. Whatever this alcohol is, it tastes expensive.

And there was that small woman of before - he would have almost missed her, with her short stature and all, but he certainly didn't miss the cool expression on her face. She didn't say anything as she watched, but Martin assumed she was taking everything in. Probably a wise choice of her not to introduce herself, he supposed.

The words Cass offered before seemed to actually have an effect on the hiding girl, it looked like; she appeared slowly from behind the couch in a way that reminded Martin of a scared mouse. He kind of felt for her, even if he likes to think he wouldn't jump behind a couch the second somebody pulls out a gun. 'My name is Jade. I apologize for panicking, but I'm not used to being near so many armed and dangerous people....or weapons in general. I'm guessing I'm the only one with that issue. The atmosphere was really tense and I just didn't want to end up a casualty due to a fit of rage.' She said, voice colored by nervousness and a distinct shakiness. Jade, it seems, it some the shy, scared type. He isn't sure what gave her the impression everybody here is dangerous - oh, wait. Yes. Cass and that guy holding a gun, and that Romir kid has a knife out. Okay, fair enough. Martin gave her an encouragin smile anyways - not so much out of sympathy, but because he'd rather she didn't freak out again and possibly provoke somebody.

'Don’t you patronize me!'

Martin swiveled the dark liquid filling up his glass, glancing up - the pierced man scowled in at him, quite obviously pissed off, but made no move to shot. The conman gave a friendly smile, raising up a hand in hopes to pacify the guy. ''Sorry, that wasn't my intention.'' 'Since when is making sense being patronizing?' He thought with no small amount of annoyance, muslces still tense just in case a shot goes off. ''All of us are tense and I don't think anybody knows what's going on, is what I'm saying.'' Finally, finally, the man to calm down somewhat by himself - he lowered his gun, mumbling something under his breath that was too quiet to catch. He didn't introduce himself, but he did take his drink and didn't threaten anybody, which was good. The bar is below the ground at this point, Martin thinks.

Silence fell over the room for a second after that, giving Martin the chance to introduce himself. He gave his best million-dollar smile, the one that brought him friends wherever he went - and got him out of the stickiest situations when shit hits the fan. He glanced around the room, taking another sip. ''Martin St. Abel. Call me Martin.'' His voice was bright and sweet, having been perfected over the years when he entered the world of crime. ''I'd say I'm glad to meet you folk, but the circumstances are not the best.'' He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, giving a small shrug as he kept his smile plastered on like a mask.


 

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