whαt σncє wαs :: Yaoi Gang RP :: NEED PEOPLE~

[b o n n a b y]

`XXXDRUMMING NOISE －INSIDE MY HEAD － AN ALMIGHTY SOUND.
XXXXXXXX ℓσυ∂єя тнαη ѕιяєηѕ ▫ ℓσυ∂єя тнαη вєℓℓѕ ▫ ѕωєєтєя тнαη нєανєη －αη∂ нσттєя тнαη нєℓℓ

xxxx

↻ ＥＭＲＩＣＫ ＴＹＣＨＯＮ ＡＮＴＥＯＬＬＩ
████████████ ⦅ syndicate ♕ m e m b e r ⦆ ▒▒▒▒▒

If he smoked, New Year's Eve would be a fine time to light a glow.

Sure, it was a crisp night, blanketed with a thin veil of light snow. Nature wasn't a big thing in Chicago - steel, concrete and glass replaced mountains and fields. Sometimes there'd be a glimpse of starry sky through the smog, more so in winter, but constant rain could make a population forget. They were small dots on a massive sheet of paper, right? But what dot gets a crushing pressure in their chest because another dot has disappeared? If he smoked, a bit of nicotine might have made the news easier to wrap his head around. Someone like him, a member of the Chicago Police Department, had been brought down by the man five feet away. He was at odds, straddling a great divide with one foot on each side. Emrick smiled faintly, lifting his nose skyward, exhaling. A hard reality. Not something he was unfamiliar with.

He eavesdropped. Hard not to and Logan wasn't making any signs of telling him to beat it. Within the first few seconds following Logan's initial reply, Emrick was once again hooked into a situation he hadn't been expecting. Not yet. Detective. Logan was on the line with another officer. A higher ranking one: Emrick's thoughts spun like a tilt-a-whirl. Who would be connected to Logan? Who would call so soon after another cop's death? Was it someone from his department? Did he know him? Endless. A waterfall of stress and anxiety pounded on his temples and he took to rubbing his free hand through the ends of his hair. He lingered on the hard wooden gauge protruding from his earlobe, comforted by its shape.

The cop in him was demanding answers. The gangster was looking on things from a step back. Before he could come up with a plan, Logan hung up. Hazel-gray eyes slipped up from under low lids. A chuckle broke away from him. Logan's hair was starting to look like a checkerboard, white on black. The younger man was silent, maybe lost in thought, and Emrick bit into the cupcake while awaiting what would happen next. Logan was meeting up with a detective: it'd be good to see if he might figure out who it was. Licking away a splash of frosting around his mouth, Emrick stifled surprise and instead responded with a relaxed "Drive? Sure." He hadn't expected the invitation. Was Logan walking into a possible arrest? Did that mean Logan was guilty of the crime? It was too coincidental.

Another bite gave him time to mull over his decision. The Lacky role gave him little power, especially surrounding gang operations and sensitive details. Logan was practically Felix's surrogate parent at this point and Felix had access to more information then a kid his age should ever see. With that in mind, Emrick moved closer and likewise pulled his gloves from his back pocket. "Here. Use these." He said, offering up the leather accessories. Fixing a nonchalant grin into place, he lowered his chin, gaze a sharp point of humor. "So, is 'sis a date or ahm I runnin' interference? Been a long time since I played third wheel, but... What the hey. It'ssa new year."

▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀ ▀▀▀ ▀ ▀▀▀ ▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
¤ Logan xxx¤ who's in contact with a gang member that I know? xxx¤ outside HQ xxx¤ sedate/ surprisedxxxxxxxxx

[Demonic Insonia]

The Merchant's Bookie xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Allen
▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀
"It doesn't add up!" Allen growled under his breath as he threw his notebook across the room. Why didn't it add up. Someone didn't pay up. That had to be it! There should be no way the money shouldn't add up, he didn't take any yet. Great new year this was turning out to be. He stood up and walked over to the poor notebook that was now laying lopsided on the floor by the wall, the pages fluttering back into place as he picked it up. Might as well go over it again, maybe he made a mistake. Highly doubtful, but it could happen. He sat back down and went over everything for the umpteenth time. This was frustrating. Why couldn't it just add up already so he could get on with his life. Curse the stupid gap! It shouldn't exist unless he created it! He covered up HIS habit of taking the Merchant's money, not others! Once again the notebook became acquainted with the wall. That was it! He was taking the stupid thing to HQ so he could go over some of the records. Something wasn't adding up and he was going to figure it out. There was no way he'd be able to get any sleep until he did. He grabbed the notebook once again along with some other stuff and shoved it in his book bag before grabbing a jacket and scarf and storming from his apartment, barely making sure to lock the door behind him.

He made the quick trip to the bank, not even shivering at the cold. He made his way inside the building, ignoring everything around himself, only focusing on getting the the freaking room that held his records. It was HIS room, no one was allowed in, except those who were above him and force him to let them in, but even then it was hard to get him to agree. When anyone wanted the information, they needed a good reason and he'd get it for them, other then that it was HIS, or at least he called it that. Once he was at the door he unlocked it and made his way inside, locking the door behind him. No one was going to disturb him until he figured this out. He made his way over to a desk against the wall and set his bag down, pulling out hit notebook in the process and placing it on the desk. Now he needed to find those record so he could figure this out. He walked over to a filing cabinet and unlocked it, opening it and pulling out some papers before shutting it again. The papers made their way to the area next to his notebook and he sat down once again. His eyes scanned back and forth between his notebook and and the record, matching things up. He flipped to a new page in his new book and began working on the numbers again. This time checking their source while he did so to see where it didn't match up correctly.

After a couple of minutes he banged his head against the desk. Why was this so frustrating. He was used to these kind of things but for some reason this one stupid gap was causing him more problems than it should. He wanted to throw something again but repressed the urge. He didn't want there to be a chance of him ruining something. That would only cause him a bigger headache later. He let out an annoyed sigh and leaned back, slumping in his chair. He really could go for a cup of tea. A nice, warm, soothing cup of tea.




▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀
location; Merchant's HQ
with; A bunch of records and a ridiculously annoying gap
ooc; Curse the gap!~

[Kefka Fanatica]

~[Kalas M. Doherty]~
.Head Detective.


Kalas' hands clenched even tighter on the steering wheel as he gritted his teeth. If it wasn't for all of the laws in place, he would readily shoot one of those bastards if possible. In order to calm his nerves, the detective wrenched one hand away from the wheel to slip a Backstreet Boys CD into the disc player, blasting 'Millennium' as he sped along the road. The music was contrasting to the borderline dangerous mood the man was falling into, thinking nothing other then grilling Logan until he slipped ANY sort of information. Of course, he could even fess up to the murder but then what? There was no conclusive evidence yet...and Kalas knew fully well that the gang was quite good at slipping out of the law's reach by this point.

He sometimes wondered to himself why he even bothered. They kept getting away with everything and the police couldn't keep one of the members in a cell for longer then just overnight. But then again...Adam was the one who kept reminding the head detective that this was all for justice...to protect the civilians and to dig up answers.

Soon enough, Kalas stopped near the entrance of the warehouse, unrolling his window so he could light up a cancer stick. The man shot a text at Logan, not even bothering to waste even more of his paid minutes on that piece of crap.

Get your a** outside.

[Kefka Fanatica]

▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ⊱ I feeℓ immersed ↙ ↙ in the clock ↻ w o r k of the U N I V E R S E ⇍
xxxxxxx ∂ E E P ┋↱ m e t a p h o r ↵ In which I ' M the very C O R E ▒ ❝ бut I R E A L I Z E D with
S U N ⊱Я I S E ✥ That are S H A ∂ E S aℓℓ my S O R R O W S ⊰ In this wheeℓ
xx I can feel. There's much tomorrows xx I can feel. There's much tomorrows xx I can feel. There's much tomorrows
xx I can feel. There's much tomorrows xx I can feel. There's much tomorrows xx I can feel. There's much tomorrows
xx I can feel. There's much tomorrows xx I can feel. There's much tomorrows xx I can feel. There's much tomorrows

Felix took a long sip of his Pepsi, almost wanting to snap a retort back at the Syndicate boss but he knew better. He knew that man was capable of anything, according to the few stories Logan had mentioned briefly. Why was he dragged into this? He honestly did not think his hacking skills were that useful. It was just information...

He settled himself quite comfortably into the couch, pulling his laptop a little closer. The boy spared a quick glance at the other gang member who came in, not even remembering his name until Mizuko greeted him. Gosh, was he ever pleasant. "Yeah, I can do that. Um...how do you want me to send them a message...?" Felix felt like his question came out sounding stupider then how he meant it to. He could really use a good cigarette right now in order to escape being stuck with the mob boss.







✥OOC YOLO.
✥Location Mafia HQ.
✥Company The boss and the nerdy guy.
Felix.

[kittenation]

◦◦◦ . »»»»»» .ℓσgαи.м.кσмαяσνѕкιι.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
My Location :: HQ<Kalas' car
Who I am with :: Emrick/Kalas
What's on my mind :: ...
▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂
xxxxx⊱I'm not the one wasting my time⊰


「 . S O . D O S E. ME . U P . . . . . 」 . .
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxO N C E . I S . N O T . E N O U G H. . . . . .　 .


__
x❝ . i . c a n . s t i l l --. s e e .t h e ..g r o u n d ..-- f r o m . t h i s . h i g h . r i s e .. v e i w. , . l o o k i n ' . , . d o w n.. o n .. y o u . . . .


▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ◦◦◦



The city was surprisingly quiet now; he could only guess it to be a little past three in the morning. He dropped his head back for a moment, blinking rapidly to keep the snow out of his eyes; a few flakes clung to his lashes like they did in his hair. This year didn’t feel any different from the year before, and the same went for New Years last January and the one before that and so on. How much longer would things continue on this ongoing track, Logan was beginning to find his life of crime boring and unfulfilling.

Logan replaced his phone into his pocket and in turn brought out a pack of cigarettes. He knew before he flipped back the top that there was only one left. Funny, he didn’t remember smoking them. His eyes narrowed for a moment, Felix’s stupid face flashed in his mind. He sighed; placing the stick between his lips then tossed the empty box into the dumpster they stood by. Not that he was nervous or even slightly put off by the meeting that was about to happen, but, Logan was a little relieved to have the Lacky tag along. Kalas wouldn’t be able to arrest him, or kill him, but there wouldn’t be much stopping him from beating the living s**t out of Logan. Emrick was a decently sized guy; he could no doubly fend off a few swings. Maybe take a couple hits for him. Who knew at this rate, the night could really take a few turns. Logan cupped his cold hands over his cigarette as he lit up.

His shoulders tensed for a moment as they came closer together, it was habitual and the sudden movement seemed unnecessary to him until the gloves were offered to him. “Thank you.” Uncomfortable or not, Logan typically minded his manners, plus, his fingers were losing feeling. He took the gloves with one hand, and offered Emrick his lit cigarette with the other. He didn’t mind sharing.

“Something like that…” Another grin lit up across his face, “Though ‘m afraid the second party isn’t my biggest fan, but he seems excited to see me. If you could actually act more as a cockblock and keep the guy off me, that’d be great.” He slid his hands into the gloves, noticing immediately that they were quite a few sizes too big for him and hung loosely around his fingers, but they were still warm from Emrick’s pocket. He wasn’t going to complain.

The beam of headlights caught his attention before the initial text message; he didn’t bother checking his phone before turning to head to the car. The yard dogs began to yowl their heads off, taking turns lunging at the wired fence. “Ready, Lacky?” He asked, running his hand across the hood of the car as he walked around to the rear seat of the driver’s side.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

----

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[Kanekicase]

{And I pressed a wrong button and accidently destroyed this post. Will repost in a bit}

[Holy Fail Cakes]

I ❖ n e e ∂ a ∂ R I N K or 《《 two make that a F E W ▒↷ I ain't W A I T I N G ↯
Gonna forget my trouble Gonna forget my trouble Gonna forget my trouble
Gonna forget my trouble Gonna forget my trouble Gonna forget my trouble
Gonna forget my trouble Gonna forget my trouble Gonna forget my trouble
N O T⇩ gonna ｀▐⊱ s t r e s s ┋ for N O T H I N G ◤ I'm feeℓing quite a l r i g h t
xxxxx ღ )) Don't C A R E who's ↺ A R O U N D me ↫ I can ↷ r u l e ╯ the WORLD
So hands up, catch the feeling, there's no stop in this So hands up, catch the feeling, there's no stop in this
Right N O W ⊱▉ in this moment I can R U L E the W O R L D

A smiled crossed his lips as he let out a small chuckle. "Tell them, Hope you had a lovely Holiday season. Thank you for your oh so kind and generous donation to the us." He looked to Felix, "The money did go through right? I mean it was donated on Christmas wasn't it?" He asked him curiously. The Merchant bookie must be more retarded then he thought but it always worked out better when things got easy. For now.

⊱▉OOC:Short post is god awful short.
⊱▉Company:Retards
⊱▉Location:Base

[b o n n a b y]

`XXXDRUMMING NOISE －INSIDE MY HEAD － AN ALMIGHTY SOUND.
XXXXXXXX ℓσυ∂єя тнαη ѕιяєηѕ ▫ ℓσυ∂єя тнαη вєℓℓѕ ▫ ѕωєєтєя тнαη нєανєη －αη∂ нσттєя тнαη нєℓℓ

xxxx

↻ ＥＭＲＩＣＫ ＴＹＣＨＯＮ ＡＮＴＥＯＬＬＩ
████████████ ⦅ syndicate ♕ m e m b e r ⦆ ▒▒▒▒▒

A stud-decorated brow popped up. He let Logan have his gloves and at the same time he reached for the cigarette. How long since he'd last had one? He didn't bother ticking off the years. "Sure thing."

Emrick watched as Logan tugged on his old, well-worn gloves, taking that time to place the cig to his lips. A short, but practiced draw was taken, after which he decided a proper one was due. Equal trade, yeah? Breath vapors and smoke combined and poured headily between his lips after the second draw. The wind had picked up, ruffling hair and loose fabric and yet somehow Emrick appeared entirely unperturbed. Relaxed, like extreme temperatures didn't register with him somehow. "Mm. Roger that. No New Years touchy-feely, no last year's do or dying." He quipped, a shade of a smirk spreading around the dangling cigarette butt. Basically, Logan had a detective on the ropes somehow and the man wanted to tear the kid a new breathing hole. Peachy. His undercover shindig was going to get its first test and he hadn't gotten the study materials.

A car's head beams knifed through the dark, closing in on their location. Angry, desperate dog cries began to beat at their backs and Emrick didn't have to ask if this was the 'date'. He didn't have to ask one damn thing, actually, because he probably knew more than Logan could answer. It was the car. Hard not to recognize, considering he'd been under the hood once or twice. Police brat that can fix an engine, no sweat, no charge? Yeah, he'd been popular once. Emrick's eyes narrowed a hair, but he slowly followed after Logan. He kept the cigarette. Damn well needed it. His senses were on high alert, but the slouch of his shoulders were only tense against the cold.

Kalas. The one damn detective in the city still trying to beat out all the gangs, single-handed. Emrick knew him more by reputation then personal acquaintance, but that didn't mean squat-diddly. If Kalas gave him away, it was over. Thank god he had an actual criminal record to fall back on [more recent crimes were written into his files, but still.] Kalas could figure out who he was, but then again, most cops in the city knew him. It was one of the reasons he'd gotten hired. Having an "in" with the badges was good for business.

Emrick pulled open the other back door and folded himself inside. Puffing smoke and shedding snow flakes, he tucked his hands deep into pant pockets and made himself comfortable. "Turn up the heat, ya?" He muttered, but otherwise said nothing. He could feel his cell phone under his fingertips and dug it out. Ignoring the other two, he sent out a quick text. Hopefully Abel could relay the message. Out with L. Will text later. Might need ride. Got wine. Top shelf. Happy 2K. E.

At least Abel wouldn't drill him for details unless necessary. Poor guy - he'd gotten part of the story early on. Working for a gang by gunpoint or threat was a common enough happenstance, but it never got any less tragic. Abel was a smart man in a tight spot and it reminded Emrick too much of when he'd first met his best friend. Rolling his eyes to Logan, he suppressed a sigh and silently offered back the cigarette. Tonight, however it went, would offer him plenty of food for thought.

▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀ ▀▀▀ ▀ ▀▀▀ ▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
¤ Logan/ Kalas xxx¤ 's**t on toast' xxx¤ in Kalas' car xxx¤ apprehensivexxxxxxxxx

[Lady_Red_Death]

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
Ƚ ocation: M.H.Q.
Ӎ ood: Amused> Peeved
Ͼ ompany: Tristan and soon Allen
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

♔ ♕ ♖ ♗ ♘ ♙ ♚ ♛ ♜ ♝ ♞ ♟

► Raphael bit back a chuckle as he watched him out of the corner of his eye. This was the reaction he was expecting from the other male. He knew the bank was a sore thumb, that's why he employed honest people making an honest wage to run the front part of it. The records came off clean and everyone was happy. Or mostly happy. There was still some people who saw through the scam, but weren't able to find anything wrong with it. On the plus side of running an honest bank, there was money to be made in it. His employees here knew him by a different name, which was a slap in the face to the cops who were unable to pin him down. He was known as J. Merchant to them.

He turned and looked at him. "Yes, this is the Merchants' head quarters." He said, pulling out a cell phone to text him second in command. [Need you down on floor one of HQ. New muscle. Let you test. See you soon] he hit send. "Sit, warm yourself up." He motioned to a chair. Just as he motioned to a chair he watched his Bookie literally dart in front of him. "Excuse me for a second." He said with a quick head nod, following in an even pace after Allen, which happened to be slower.

The back of his knuckles rapped against Allen's personal little sanctuary "Oh Allen, come out for a second. It's Moretti… we need to talk." His voice was calm and even. To have one of the members of his gang disgrace him, more so in the presence of a new recruit would shame his name. The very least Allen could have done was a head nod; but to not even offer the slightest bit of acknowledgement to his boss while storming in front of him was completely unacceptable.

♔ ♕ ♖ ♗ ♘ ♙ ♚ ♛ ♜ ♝ ♞ ♟

❝We are all but pawns in a unbeatable game of chess. The kings are bribed, the queens get laid, and the knight is left under paid. ❞

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

Ѻ Ѻ Ͽ:
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

Demonic Insonia

Shotgun Mouthwash

Raynei_Daiz125

[Shotgun Mouthwash]

______Not the debt doctor with the hungry scalpel.

____Here's my prognosis: will they live?

__________DOUBTFUL.

________You're the street physician, carving flesh sculptures.

___Paint your a** like Rembrandt!

_______Ha, you like-a that?

_____________Better start praying when you see him coming.

__'Cause tonight it's curtains!

You're the Night Surgeon!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxT r i s t a n M c D o w e l l

✖ ✖ ✖
Tristan took the seat he was offered with a grateful nod, grunting quietly as the knots in his back relaxed into the back of the chair. The one downfall of being muscular was how much your muscles tensed up. He had two golf ball-sized lumps between his shoulders at the moment, and any kind of relief was enough to make him melt into a puddle of happy. One of his younger sisters, a fire-tongued blonde named Sammy, used to love walking across his back. Her tiny feet weren't enough to hurt him or crush him, but she seemed to have a knack for digging her little monkey toes in the exact right spots. Tristan let himself fall into his thoughts as Mr. Moretti excused himself, bowing his head in return as he took another deep pull of the Marlboro Smooth clutched in his fingers. What would Sammy be doing now? Probably getting her bike stuck in the muddy trails behind their house like she always did. She was only seven and had been the only member of his family to truly accept him for what he was: an adventurous, assertive, perfectly chiseled slice of homo beef cake. The whole coming out of the closet thing had been the real dealbreaker when he was tossed out: his father might have been able to put up with his son not wanting the church, but to be a devious, sinful sodomite on top of it was apparently too much. He allowed himself a small smile, reveling in how his life had changed in such a short time. Who would have thought the pastor's pride would end up working for a crime syndicate in Chicago? He certainly wouldn't have.
✖ ✖ ✖

I remember every dying whisper, every desperate murmur.
I remember when I gaze upon her... she looks just like you.
I remember, I remember...
I remember marking every v i c t i m with acute precision.
I remember every time I hold you, my blunt companion.
When I remember... I D I S M E M B E R !
‘Cause the claims medic uses no anesthetic;
90 days delinquent gets you repo treatment.
I'm the masked HORROR on your street corner.
Make your mama mourn ya...
I ' m t h e N i g h t S u r g e o n !

[Lady_Red_Death]

↩ ↪ ↫ ↬ ↭ ↮ ↯ ɗɑɾɩεη ↩ ↪ ↫ ↬ ↭ ↮ ↯

"And its go boys go
They'll time your every breath
And every day in this place your two days near to death"

≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
Mood: Drunk... angry?
Location: Outside of Merchant HQ
Company: Himself... for now.
≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎

New years. Perfect night to get absolutely hammered. Bad night to forget where you live and give wrong directions to the driver. Darien wasn't a heavy drinker, if really a drinker at all. As of late though, his family had been bothering him more and more about his lack of female partners, and his boss kept one foot firmly planted up his a** at all times. So tonight he decided to throw his caution to the wind and get plastered with some friends on New Years. He was ushered out the door and had a cab ordered for him. His back seat thoughts consisted of rage. He wasn't exactly a happy drunk, or a comfortably out homosexual. 'That young son of a... if I see him... I'll' He let out a hick-up, not even able to finish his own thoughts. He got out of the cab, throwing a wad of cash at the driver, hoping it was enough, but too drunk to care.

In his drunken rage filled stupor, he found himself in front of a familiar looking bank, having given the driver this address instead. Alas he wasn't thinking straight and if he was he remembered there were video cameras surrounding the building he might not have started pounding on the door and shouting "'ome ou' 'ou paaansy! I... I wanna -hic- 'ick 'ou!". Roughly translated, he was insulting his boss on camera. He meant kick, but with his heavy slurring, it might be assumed he also wanted to lick his boss. At the current moment, with how drunk he was, neither would have happened.

≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
ѲѲʗ:

"There's overtime and bonus opportunities galore
The young men like their money and they all come back for more
But soon your knocking on and you look older than you should
For every bob made on the job, you pay with flesh and blood"

≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎

[Kefka Fanatica]

нead deтecтιve - kαlαs m. dσhєrtч
▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ 『 ☆ 』
xxxx " d o n txxxb e xxxa f r a i dxxx.
xxxg oxxxs t r a i g h txxxo nxxxxxxxx. "xxxx


Past regrets and loneliness
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I must go on for all time, and never return




Kalas' hand was hanging out of his window, holding a cigarette loosely as he blew the smoke out of the vehicle. When that filthy mobster ran his hand along the top of his poor baby, the detective was ready to just speed off then and there. It took all of the patience he had left to sit there with a dark expression plastered on his pale features. Another man was with Logan that he immediately recognized. The detective knew that there was a undercover cop within the gang (who so far had not coughed up any useful information whatsoever) but somebody else was handling him so Kalas had no idea who their decoy was. The scars on the man's face sparked Kalas' mind into remembering his name: Officer Emrick Anteolli. He never spoke to him at the office ever so it was no problem to just give him a cold glare as the two men got into the car.

"Are you too scared to deal with me alone now, Logan? I wouldn't expect any better from filth such as yourself anyways..." Kalas spoke softly, the venom lacing his every tone. God, he hated this Syndicate member so much. Nonetheless, he was looking forward to grilling the two in a coffee shop, regardless if Emrick was their rat or not. It would be an excellent test either way. The raven-haired male sped off, not even bothering to wait whether his two guests were buckled in or not. The small, private owned coffee shop was not far off from the Syndicate headquarters but he would much rather get these two assholes out of his precious vehicle faster then one could say 'bang'.


Kalas hoped to God that they did not expect a ride home.

The detective tried to keep his cool expression as he parked his vehicle, clearly not giving two shits whether he parked nice or not as he roared into the silent parking lot. The vehicle turned off and he exited his car, expecting the two to follow. The man took the last, long drag of his smoke before flicking it at another crap car near them, "Hurry the ******** up." He said as he turned on his heel to enter the cozy little coffee shop, the warmth quite welcoming in contrast to the weather outside.




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[kittenation]

◦◦◦ . »»»»»» .ℓσgαи.м.кσмαяσνѕкιι.
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My Location :: Kalas' car<Coffee Shop
Who I am with :: Emrick/Kalas
What's on my mind :: ...
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xxxxx⊱I'm not the one wasting my time⊰


「 . S O . D O S E. ME . U P . . . . . 」 . .
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x❝ . i . c a n . s t i l l --. s e e .t h e ..g r o u n d ..-- f r o m . t h i s . h i g h . r i s e .. v e i w. , . l o o k i n ' . , . d o w n.. o n .. y o u . . . .


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“The finest of pleasures are always the unexpected ones…” Logan greeted the brooding man behind the wheel. He put a hand to his chest and gave a mocking bow before turning to his door, opening it and ducking inside. He made sure not to slam the door shut behind him.

A heavy frown tugged at the corner of his lips. Kalas’ insults struck a small cord but he had to remember, the poor guy just lost someone dear to him. “You know hand to hand combat isn’t my specialty, and I know you have a short temper and a good right hook.” Logan lifted a gloved hand to his chin in remembrance. Their last meeting had not been a peaceful one and left Logan’s pretty face bruised and swollen. His legs crossed casually, not bothering to buckle in anyway. He took his cigarette back from his bodyguard for the night and turned his attention out the window

It was a little surprising to him how quiet the initial car ride was. The sound of the engine motor and gentle vibration throughout the vehicle was soothing and Logan felt himself becoming very drowsy. After this whole ordeal was over with, it would be long past his bed time. The only thing keeping him awake was the nicotine intake.

By the time the car rolled to a stop Logan only had a few draws left on the stick. Not one to waist, he pushed open the door and got out to finish it off. He tipped his head back, exhaling. The curls of smoke from his cigarette slide between the snowflakes as they wind up around his head into the chilled air. Once there was nothing left, he flicked the butt to the ground and watched it explode into soft glowing red embers before the snow engulfed the heat and melted away with the ash. “Nice parking job…” He uttered, taking a glance at the sideways parked car with a grin before following the Detective inside, though he made sure to keep so close to Emrick that their elbows bumped together; just in case a shield was needed.

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[b o n n a b y]

◟:: ★ ★ ★ 《
filler filler filler filler ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇
filler filler fil ██ ██ ██° `♚&it's; just ❛﹕the __۰beginning.
filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯
filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler EVEN THOUGH I KNOW, I SUPPOSE I'LL SHOW all my c o o l and c o l d like an old job
filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler DESPITE ALL MY RAGE I AM STILL JUST A RAT IN A CAGE!
filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler filler Then someone will say, "what is lost can never be saved."

xxx¤ with Tristan / Darien xxx¤ Merchant's HQ xxx¤ rather annoyed.zzzzxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cold, snowing, late. He minded neither the cold or the hour, but he had no intentions of standing around becoming Frosty the Snowman. The weather reports hadn't called for a snowstorm, but lo and behold. Fat flakes fell from the sky in slow, meandering droves. The worst part about snow? It sticks to everything. Repeat - everything. Including the Armani coat keeping him warm from its high collar to the swaying ends just below his arse. It was black, posh and cost way too much for being blended wool. The silk lining was nice, though.

What wasn't nice? Coming "home" and finding a stray dog at the door. It was a confusing situation for even the best of humanitarians - did you pity the wretched bit of fur, take it inside and plaster posters around the neighborhood, or did you pity it with a kick out of the way?

Crevan numbly bit into the end of his cigarette. His evening was nearing its end and making decisions was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn't need to think to go through the steps of undressing, showering and later sleeping. A pale green eye traced the slouched figure for tell-tale lumps. Guns, knives, anything he might be responsible for. A pat-down would find any smaller threats, but by the smell of the man hogging the doorway, Crevan doubted the fellow had any intention of killing anyone tonight. Except possibly himself, with a hang-over.

The drunk was getting loud. Police were the last folk Crevan felt like inviting onto the property, and so a decision was made. Approaching the Merchant's bank-based lair, Crevan's shoes crunched in the snow as he joined the random idiot at the locked door. "Be quiet." He ordered of the drunk, snagging the inside of one elbow in a hard grip. At the same time he opened the door - which wasn't locked. Crevan stepped inside and without further adieu began hauling the stranger through the building's interior. He kept a quick pace, hoping to reach the main room before the drunk could make any sense of what was going on.

Reaching aforementioned main room, Crevan's gaze landed on the sole inhabitant - a frown flicked from brow to lip. Two unknown faces was two too many. Perhaps the Boss had a guest. It wasn't his business to care, but it wasn't good to leave strange individuals left alone to do who knows what. "Who are you?" He shot at the seated man. In another moment, he turned the drunk and shoved: right onto another couch besides the other. "You. Stay." He said, his frown deepening between his brows.

xxxxxxx

✲xxx（ CREVANtheREVOLVER ）

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