whαt σncє wαs :: Yaoi Mafia RP :: ((O/A))

[graphing calculator]

THEREVOLVER! J I N xxxxxx LOCATION: Syndicate HQ, Kitchen xxxx WITH: Logan, Yuuta xxxx MOOD: Proud

A harsh winter wind grazes multiple wounds with what feels like faint traces of ice and lead. In his pocket, a nearly done pack of Marlboro cigarettes and a dirtied shopping list left undone. It was another full, sleepless night spent awake and restless for Jin, but he did not complain. Even as he made a slow trek from his bullet hole ridden car into the headquarters of the organization that took him as family, he did not complain. Leaving a red streak of blood spilling from his leg behind him as he walked, Jin welcomed the scent of indoor heating, male sweat and ultimately a morning breakfast that was never meant for him.

His torn clothes swayed with his motions and yet despite the pain in his abdomen and the irritating beat of his rifle patting against the stab wound on his back, Jin could thankfully say it was a job well done.

It was a lot more messy than he would have liked the job to be, but he didn't mind the smell or sight of blood, no matter how much the amount (of course as long as it wasn't all his). It was something he had grown accustomed to throughout his years as a mercenary, or rather now, a hired hitman for the Syndicate. Just the title made him stand up tall, his back straight. Jin lit a bloodied cigarette with a weak flick of his lighter--most likely one of his last lights he'll get out of the thing--and felt a wave of calm wash over him the moment he took one breath of the nicotine and tar.

Jin ran his hand through his hair in an effort to tidy it somehow, though dried and thickened blood only made it stick together like some sort of morbid hair gel. "I'm back."

Jin walked into the kitchen where Logan and Yuuta were enjoying breakfast and coffee. How endearing it was that a gang, for all its violence and gross atrocity, could function like a family, at least somewhat. The hitman looked at his superiors and gave a small smile, forgetting for a moment that he was a bloody mess and more concerned with the fact that there was fresh bread on the counter. "I come bearing gifts." Jin says as he reaches into his pocket and places a chain made of gold but stained in blood onto the table in front of Logan.

"Spoils from the battle." Jin picks up a bread roll from the basket and leans his back against the counter, perhaps a bit too proud of his gift, like a cat returning home with a dead bird. "I hope you like it; I didn't take it off him after he died. I wanted him to see me rip it off his neck, so here it is."

His longstanding tradition, if one can call it that, of bringing home mementos of Logan's targets began on Jin's very first task. Despite not having been directed to bring back proof of death, Jin did so anyway by habit from previous jobs. Heads, photographic or film evidence, appendages, even the random bit of genitalia because some bosses were into their enemies having them torn off. Jin never questioned it, so long as he was paid to do it. Yet this monetary form of motivation was near non-existent for Jin now that he had become a part of the Syndicate. Getting the job done simply for the sake of Logan Moretti having told him to do it was enough.

Jin puts a piece of bread in his mouth, and before swallowing, takes a puff of smoke from his cigarette to go along with it.

ooc: post layout coming tomorrow i take it back, i like it nice and simple lol

[Diabolic Devourer]

xxxxxxxxxxxxx│█│║▌ NICO GIOTTO MORETTIxx◞★ x
█║ {✩ ❛ the merchants boss❜
xxx LAST CHANCE TO LOSE CONTROL xx LAST CHANCE TO LOSE CONTROL xx LAST CHANCE TO LOSE CONTROL
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx it's bugging me, grating me ... and twisting me around
xxxxxxxxxx ✩ ✩ ✩ x ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

The place around the main kitchen was relatively silent most of the times. The only times it was noisy beyond reason, was when there was some private party. Which didn't really happen that much under Nico's Power. Though he did invite some of his closer businesses companions to have a drink. He wasn't too much of a fan of having outsiders roam this building. As his eyes scanned the latest news, something about murder, another of the wars after effects. War hero's getting a parade in the capital... More ruckus done in the city by the so called Syndicates. Mentally sighing a bit with the last news, he only hopped his younger sibling wouldn't get himself killed before he got to him. Closing the paper and placing it down next to him he continued sip away at the orange juice. The old woman knew of Nico's bad eating habits and always took away his coffee replacing it with juice. Making a slight face behind his glasses. The old woman didn't mean harm. Quite the contrary she was looking to help him stay alive, the Nana was an old friend of his deceased mother, it was the one of the many reasons he trusted her to make him meals and such.

The main kitchen had a large window panels that lead vision into downtown of the city. Looking blindly at the walking people the passing cars. His mind didn't budge much from the charity ball. Leaning back he rubbed his temple a bit, it was a head ache. He still felt that deep rage waking every time he remembered how one day, half of his men and his brother decided to waltz away. This time the memory made him twitch slightly. His blood hissed a bit, opening and closing his fists he managed to cool down.
'If he hadn't left things would be worlds easier, but no~ He had to dive right out...' his mind hissed, narrowing his eyes a bit his head perked up as the sound of someone walking into the kitchen echoed in his thought.

Looking up at one of his closer man he pressed down his thoughts slowly. Smiling softly as the elder man gestured his younger underling to take a seat. The table was a cast circular one that was composed of eight chairs originally... But due to a slight accident it was reduced to seven chairs. "Ah, good morning Mikhail." Nico had gotten used to this younger man's name, but the pronunciation at times killed him, reason why he would normally slowly say the other name. He didn't what to end up calling him something else... "Coffee?" tracing the other with his eyes as he did the same offering position, knees to the ground hand stretched out. It made Nico smile inside, this made his slight superior complex boost a bit. Taking the coffee from the other hand he chuckled a bit as he sipped it. "Hmm you seem to have read my mind about the blends I prefer Mikhail~" Looking down at the wallflower down from the corner of his eyes he gave him a small gesture to take a seat. Smelling the coffee's sent it eased him a bit. As he looked around his dedicated lawyer it didn't take to much for him to appear. Slothy and with horrible morning motor skills. "Morning Cecyl another restless night I presume?" Nico asked in a low tone as his eyes proceeded to follow his lawyers steps around. The main kitchen had an open fridge to whoever was permitted there in the first place. Of course they had to cook for their own selves he didn't pay the old woman to be a house wife for all. "Anyway onto other things... Mikhail how are the investigations going? Any new on what the syndicate might be running or damaging?" His brother part of the gang had the issue of just busting things... he had received those complaints from some of his associates very clearly.

»» Currently Located;; The Merchants Base, Main Kitchen ««
»» Currently With;; Mikhail & Cecyl ««
»» Currently Thinking/Feeling;; 'Morning company?' / Not that Hungry ««
»» OoC;; a bit blocked due to hunger .... e_e ««

[Kupo Nutt]

◦◦◦ . »»»»»» .ℓσgαи.м.кσмαяσνѕкιι.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
My Location :: Syndicate HQ
Who I am with :: Yuuta and Jin
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xxxxx⊱I feel something so right, doing the wrong thing⊰


「 . I. F E E L . S O M E T H I N G . S O . . W R O N G . . . 」 . .
xxxxxxxxxxxxD O I N G . T H E. R I G H T . T H I N G. . . . . .　 .


__
x❝ . i . c o u l d. L i e --. e v e r y t h i n g .t h a t ..k i l l s ..-- m e . m a k e s . m e . f e e l. . a l i v e . , . . , .


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Logan snatched the paper from the table while grumbling under his breath before he picked up his mug and began to sip slowly at the warm liquid. It never took Logan terribly long to awake after the first cup and soon he was actually reading the paper instead of glaring at it half asleep. After scanning a few of the headlines as well as some of the smaller stories, he turned to the back, folded the paper in half and pulled a ballpoint pen from one of his suit jacket pockets. He had yet to touch his plate of food, but that was how it often went, especially in the mornings. Logan didn’t particularly like food, as odd as it may have sounded; he ate because he had to. Occasionally he enjoyed a dish or two, but if he had a choice he’d eat nothing at all.

The Syndicate boss’ meal began to cool while the man himself scrawled across the Sunday paper, only paying half a mind to whatever was going on around him. “We have that charity thing to attend, remember?” he answered after a while, suddenly sitting up and leaning back, now holding the paper in front of his face, “What’s a five letter word for ‘Trout basket’?”

After he’d asked there was a click at the front door, Logan’s attention was then taken to Jin who’d just walked in. Of course the first thing he noticed above anything else was the blood drip, drip, dripping. “You’re bleeding all over the floor, we just had these tiles installed.” He was more than obviously annoyed though unadmittedly glad the hitman was all in one piece. It seemed he’d at least gotten the job done. The clank of metal on the oak table brought his attention away from the pooling blood and to the golden chain coiled before him, he immediately recognized it. It was a memento more than anything, proof that the man he’d ordered dead was actually dead. It wasn’t as if Logan would ever wear something so gody.

“Good boy, Jin.” Logan commented, picking up the chain and thumbing a few specks of blood between the golden links. He wondered if it was Jin’s blood, or dead man blood... “We should get you cleaned up, shouldn’t we? I need you fresh and spry for tonight. You as well, Yuuta, though you already look fantastic as usual.” Logan smiled softly, setting the paper down and the necklace down on top before pushing back in his chair and standing up. He left his plate untouched and his crossword unfinished but his cup of coffee was empty.

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[graphing calculator]

THEMERCHANTSSECONDINCOMMAND! D E I M O S xxxxxx LOCATION: Merchants HQ, Dining Area xxxx WITH: Nico, Cecyl, Mikhail xxxx MOOD: Awake

By the time the heads of the Merchants awoke to greet the morning, Deimos Fiore had already been awake for at least two hours. He made a conscious effort to awake every morning at least somewhat earlier than the others. The only reason for his early mornings was the silence that came with it. As more people woke up, the more noise there was. Deimos didn't mind noise, it meant life in all its bustling glory. It meant livelihood in humanity and the gentle stirring of minds grinding into fruition. This could be said about any human being on Earth waking in the morning, but it's much more different when said human beings are criminals. Fugitives of innocence at what was often a young age and thrown to sprawl with murderers and violent minds.

Deimos simply enjoyed the silence to focus on his own mind grinding before he mingled with other people. It was what allowed him to contemplate as he enjoyed his breakfast and morning exercises alone.

But now the King had risen out of his bed to be served breakfast and be graced with the company of his colleagues. Should one continue the monarch metaphor, Deimos was his advisor and his maid, but not in the sense that he was a housekeeper of an actual home but rather his life. To illustrate this, every morning when Deimos is certain Nico Moretti is awake, he goes into his expansive medicine cabinet and selects a few vitamins to evenly distribute between small, glass bowls. Fish oil in gel capsules, vitamin C and the like, all to be consumed with or after a meal to ensure Nico's health and longevity.

Deimos neatly arranged the bottles of pills by alphabetical order before closing the cabinet and making sure that every pill was accounted for. Satisfied, he makes his way downstairs to be in the company of the King himself.

On his way, he passed by other members of the Merchants. He gave courteous nods and quiet "Good morning"s but did not stop once to converse even when prompted to. Most knew not to discuss anything with Deimos at this time anyway--the Boss needed his vitamins, even if this notion was only preconceived by Deimos' desire for security and assurance.

Entering the kitchen, Deimos' brisk pace came to a pause as he observed who was in the room. A tired, clearly sleep deprived Cecyl who without a doubt was working the night away (such was his curse and blessing), and a cheerful ball of mixed racial sunshine, the glory of the middle East, Mikhail. His exotic radiance made Cecyl look more tired in comparison, if not blinded by his hypothetical sunshine of enthusiasm. Deimos, on the other hand, looked neither tired nor energetic. He looked disinterested in everything as usual, although this wasn't really the case this morning.

"Good morning." says Deimos politely and quietly as he walks over to Nico's side and places the pills by his breakfast. He takes note of the coffee in front of him, clearly not from the kitchen but brought in by someone else since Nico would never actually get out to buy coffee for himself if others were around to do it for him. Naturally, Deimos deduced that it was Mikhail, given that Cecyl looked like he already struggled to get to the kitchen.

The woman in charge of Nico's meals ensured a healthy diet not by her own standard, but by Deimos'. If she had her way, she would be spoiling Nico with all his favorite meals and drinks, treating him like her favorite grandson. Deimos would have none of it and instead became the one responsible for the orange juice replacement for coffee. It didn't give extra energy but it boost Nico's immune system, and that was enough reason for the substitute. Deimos wasn't going to give the speech--or lecture--again. Even though he wanted to throw away the cup of coffee, he knew it wasn't his to do such a thing. It was, after all, Mikhail's gift for the morning.

"I suggest an early preparation for security tonight." Deimos slips a small photo by Nico's hand. It showed what looked like a Syndicates' member scouring the area where the party was to be held tonight. Deimos knew right away that it wasn't just any Syndicates' member, but Jin.

After saying his words, Deimos stood up straight with his hands behind his back, remaining by Nico's side as he normally would.

ooc: is it confusing having similar post layouts to jin lol lazylazy

[Diabolic Devourer]

xxxIT'SxxxHARDERxxxTOxxxKNOWxxxJUSTxxxxxx↘xxxxxxWHERExxxTOxxxGO.
███████████xx♛(xxAugustine W. Huth, THE DOCTORxx████
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
xxxxxxxxx▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀xxxxxxxxx oh xxxxxxSO I'LL BREAK IT!!xxxxSO I'LL BREAK IT!!

●xxxKNOWING WHAT YOU SAID❛xxSEE IT IN A DIFFRENT WAY↓xxx██xxx██xxx██

The morning mist on the clinics windows made it slightly hard for anyone to see anything from the the outside. Yawing a bit the medic who had been wide awake since morning hours craned his neck to the side. 'Yet another busy morning' he thought silently as he left the small observation room. There had been another incident that same morning. Another one of the cities gang members was wounded in a fight. Since most hospitals didn't really take them in, Augustine worked to heal them, they were after all still people no matter what they did. A doctors job was to heal and help others, not judge others and see if he could help them. Rubbing his neck a bit he had finished up taking away the shattered glass under the mans skin and patched him up. The gang member, the doctor could never tell who was from what side, had been fast asleep on the observation table. his assistant dabbing and cleaning up the small cuts.

"Rosy, I'll head out for something, would yo like something?" He question his younger assistant who just shook her head a bit and returned to her work. The girl was a good addition to his small staff, but she had the habit of throwing up if she saw blood and ate something or drank anything at the same time, as a matter a fact she could see blood anywhere when she was relaxing... Waving a bit he wrapped his scarf around his neck tightly. He wore a pair of black slacks, a button white shirt and a black tie. Over that his medical coat and for the cold lick now that he headed down the streets a large beige overcoat and a cream colored scarf. The doctor would only were pale colors due to his skin tone. Looking up at the sky the calm mix of people waking up made him sigh a bit. Walking down his shoes scrapped the asphalt streets. It wasn't long until he came across Casey's Cafe. It was situated smack down between the two war territories, something Augustine didn't pay to much mind to. He was of a rather neutral party, he wasn't with or in favor of the detectives obsession nor was he in favor of the gangs troubles. Walking in he shook briefly rubbing his arms a bit to warm himself slightly. Walking to the counter stools, the medic perched himself silently.

"The usual Patty" the man commented as the waiters winked in returned yelling out an order of fresh toast and some eggs and bacon. As his coffee was pored in front of him. he looked into the dark liquid. His eyes lingered over at the radio on the counter, as it blubbered out something about a charity ball. 'Isn't that the event the detective was fussing bout...' he thought as he sipped in the coffee.

»» Currently Located;; Casey's Cafe ««
»» Currently With;; None ««
»» Currently Thinking/Feeling;; 'Wonder what'll happen.' / Feeling way to cold ««
»» OoC;; ..... ««

[Kefka Fanatica]

ϓ ʋ ʋ Ϯ α 雄太 Ҝ ѳ ɢ ɑ ѡ ɑ
Syndicate Second in Command.
x x x[/white] ホーム私を取る。 x x x ★★★★


Yuuta couldn't believe he forgot about the charity ball. If he was one for exaggerated forms of expression, his face would be buried in his hands with shame lingering in the air. This was a project that had been mentioned in idle chit chat with many of the higher ups of the gang, considering it was one of the few functions the two infamous rival gangs would be attending. Yuuta wasn't sure how Logan would react when he would see the older Moretti brother...

Before Yuuta could open his mouth to answer Logan's question, his attention was diverted from his boss when their personal hit man entered the kitchen area. The red-stained clothing immediately wrought a look of disdain from the Japanese American but he held his tongue, merely narrowing his grey eyes at the blood droplets decorating the floor. Yuuta wasn't one to enjoy blood and he eventually tore his stare away from Jin with a tight-lipped expression, instead observing the 'gift' being held out to Logan. A dead man was always good news. He silently hoped this would lighten up the Syndicate boss' spirits. The young man noted the lack of attention Jin gave him but honestly, it wasn't an issue. Logan was the one who dealt with the man when it came down to it. He merely listened as the two spoke with his thoughts lingering back to the topic of the charity ball.

When Logan mentioned Jin getting cleaned up in regards to the ball, Yuuta silently praised the Gods. The sight of the man covered in somebody's blood was positively stomach-churning. He unwittingly shared the same thought as Logan of whether it was Jin's blood or not. When the boss addressed Yuuta as well, he smiled politely at the man, "You flatter me so, Logan. Ah...not to sound like a woman...but I honestly have nothing to wear aside from my casual suits. I assumed this wouldn't be an issue." He followed Logan's actions, standing up as well but to clean up the empty cups of coffee and plates. It wasn't out of the ordinary for breakfast to remain untouched.

As Yuuta rinsed the dishes off, he eyed Jin's appearance once more before asking softly, "Were you injured during the job? I am afraid it would be in bad taste to attend a ball with untreated wounds. Perhaps a visit to the doctor is in order." He continued to quickly clean up the kitchen mess, a task that could be accomplished within minutes. It had been some time since they sent a gang member to the renowned Doctor Huth.



x x x 私の世話を。. x x x★★★★
Location: Syndicate HQ.
Company: Logan.
OOC: A little short. Apologies.
x x 私はあなたのものです。 x x★★★★

[Kefka Fanatica]

┏━━━━━━━━━┓
т σ η ι
┗━━━━━━━━━┛
【 T h e M u s c l e 】




The cool morning air whipped against the giant's face as he jogged along the sidewalk and although there was a bit of a morning bustle as city goers made their way to work or church in their vehicles, the man's gaze remained focused as he continued his daily routine. Thankfully the city workers had been on top of their jobs for a change and there were very few icy patches in which the man easily avoided. Most mafia members were accustomed to sitting on their asses or relying on their guns as a means of defense but not Toni. He was known for his diligence in taking care of his body, using whatever free time was available to hit the gym or to go for a relaxing run.

The normal route Toni would take circled around the block of the Merchant's hideout. In the mornings this was especially useful since he was doing a perimeter check in the process, keeping an eye out for any suspicious people lurking on their turf. Unfortunately for the thrill seeking man, there was nothing out of the ordinary on this fine day. Just a few old people shuffling about along the sidewalk, tossing feed to some of the irritating pigeons while looking half-dead. His jog slowed down as he approached the Merchant's building before coming to a halt once he approached some of the men guarding the main entrance, whom recognized him immediately and opened the gate. Toni walked by, treating the guards to a curt nod as his way of saying a silent 'good morning', not even giving a s**t if he reeked of sweat.

A shower was in dire need, Toni thought. He entered the building and made his way through the halls, inwardly pleased when a few of the grunts practically dived to get out of his path. It was amusing especially when rumors of his recent exploits would fly around the underlings, eventually resulting in peculiar questions being thrown his way such as, "Did you really snap a man in half?" or "How do you dismember somebody with only your hands?" If Toni was in a good mood, the curious person would be treated to a hearty chuckle and a wave of dismissal. If he was feeling dismal, however...

Well, rumors were just that. Rumors. Toni just about strode past the kitchen area but some familiar faces caught his eye just in time. The tall man stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the side. With smooth, deep tones, he said, "Good morning." His blue gaze shifted from face to face before resting upon the Merchant's boss, flickering occasionally to the second in command, Deimos. "I overheard somethin' about the security tonight. Once I wash up, I can take care of it...if you want, of course." Toni cocked his head slightly to the side. It wasn't out of the ordinary for the 'Muscle' to deal with setting up the guards and whatnot. Deep down, he felt his position held a little bit of an advantage when it came to dealing with the other brother, Logan. It was only a phonecall away to inform him of some of the 'weaker' guarded areas of certain functions...





╔══════════════╗
⊹Location; Merchant's HQ.
⊹Company; Nico, Mikhail, Cecyl, and Deimos.
⊹Mood; Indifferent.
╚══════════════╝

[graphing calculator]

THEREVOLVER! J I N xxxxxx LOCATION: Syndicate HQ, Kitchen / Casey's Cafexxxx WITH: Logan, Yuuta / Augustinexxxx MOOD: Proud / Pained

Jin couldn't help but chuckle at Logan's comment about the floors being newly installed. He was fully aware of that. In fact, the entire kitchen could have recently been renovated and he would have done the same thing regardless. It was not that he had complete disregard for a clean environment, it was just that he also knew that it would be cleaned anyway. Besides, he was far too excited to bring Logan back a present from his ventures.

The hitman ran a dirty hand through his hair as he glanced over to Yuuta. His lack of address to him upon entering was a usual occurrence. Jin had little relation with others in the Syndicate and truthfully made no effort to pursue one beyond friendly circumstance. "It's not so bad." Jin answers him in reference to his wounds, tapping some cigarette ash into the sink. He lifted up his shirt and jacket to reveal a deep gash in his abdomen, dark and red and angry with continuous leak of blood. "Except this one." Jin admits rather calmly, "This one might scar." Jin smiles at them both, blood staining his teeth as well.

"Anyway, I think this is a tiny bit more important than your high school dance, ladies." Jin takes out a folded piece of paper which was thoughtfully placed into a plastic, sealed bag in case what exactly transpired during his job occurred. Unfortunately, there was still a bullet hole through it, although it didn't obscure any vital information. "This is a map of the place. I've marked vital points around the surrounding area to set up our watchmen and some convenient little back exits. As of 4am this morning, there are no explosives set up anywhere in the vicinity." Jin places the laminated map in front of Logan as well, giving a cheerful smile to compliment his somewhat distasteful joke, "But hey, maybe we're playing nice tonight. It's not often I get to wear a suit and not ******** it up."

Jin readjusts the rifle on his back and turns his head to crack his neck as he makes his way out of the kitchen. "You girls enjoy breakfast, I can take care of myself." He waves his hand, back facing his two commanders as he walks away, not really concerning himself with formalities. Once he makes a turn and could no longer be seen or heard by Logan and Yuuta, he leans up against a wall and begins to breathe heavily, his facade of being barely injured falling to the ground like heavy, barely held weights. "Jesus ******** Christ." he mutters as he clutches his stomach. If he put his hand into his wound he could probably feel his intestines.

The cigarette between his lips falls to the ground, and in a struggle forward he steps over it and groans again before taking deep breaths and forcing his spine to realign and stand up straight. He says nothing more to the silence around him and, after a while longer than it should take, stumbles into his bedroom.

Everything came off and apart as he walked through is room. Every step, he stripped his gun, he stripped his knives, his jacket, his spare ammunition--all of it. This was the physical manifestation of stripping away the mask of strength and immunity. The final act in this cleansing ritual called for an ice cold shower, where Jin washed away clumps of darkened, black blood and bullet shrapnel into the drain, a typical abuse for his shower. There was a heightened awareness brought about by showers after battles. The sting of the pressurized water hit his wounds like tiny needles, but the cold numbed his skin and slowed his breathing.

He had long abandoned the habit of counting his wounds. It only made things worse for his head.

Once dry, Jin sloppily wrapped a towel around his waist and walked up to the mirror, shaving away the scruff that had appeared overnight during his shooting tirades. He paused, looking at the dark circles beneath his eyes, a poor result of all nighters spent fighting and all nighters spent lying awake, a victim to his insomnia and ever bustling thoughts.

Not one for night creams or any sort of skin care to aid his tired eyes, he swung the medicine cabinet open and swiped the bandages off the shelf. Jin wrapped them quickly, in crooked lines and layers around the gash on his stomach, completely disregarding the fact that it desperately needed stitching. "That'll do." Jin marvels at his attempt to wrap himself up, or rather, the only wound he really cared for. In some places, the wound was clear as day underneath poor layering, and in other places, it was much too thick, but this would have to suffice for the hitman. He was not in the mood to visit a doctor, not that he ever was.

Jin dried his hair and proceeded to get dressed. He didn't dress like his higher-ups, what with all the pristine suits and straight ties. No, he was much more casual and preferred to be comfortable. Suits were not practical for a man with a frightening reputation for killing--they would only be ruined and sent to dry cleaning later on in the day, if dry cleaning could save an Armani suit from bloodstains and bullet holes that is. Instead, Jin put on a pair of black, slim fit jeans, made to stretch with the body adding function to fashion. He tucked in a grey, dry fit shirt and layered with a white Jil Sander sweater, not that he was one for names, it just looked unique with its oddly shaped hood and button placement.

Finally, it was time for medication. Jin took more pain killers than what was probably necessary, but it never took him to any higher plane or rid him entirely of his pain. There was probably nothing, other than sheer forgetting that allowed him to do that. There existed something that helped however, and that was the sweet buns from Casey's Cafe.

Without waiting for the pain killers to kick in, Jin equipped himself with two well-concealed handguns and stepped out once more, though his reason for leaving Syndicate headquarters was much more tame than last night's. He started the act again, of walking straight and without impairment. He swore he was improving every day.

Stepping outside, it was apparent that the cold was still around, tucking every passerby's head down as they saved their face from the chill. Jin tended to underdress in the Winter simply because the cold made him feel more alive and awake. It was especially thrilling when running for his life, or for someone else's in some cases and feeling the wind down his throat and icing his lungs.

Taking a deep breath of the Winter air and watching his breath slip away, Jin made the short trek to Casey's Cafe for his beloved bread. What he saw upon arriving at his destination however was a depressing sign saying that they were sold out of his favorite sweet buns, and secondly, there sat Augustine Huth in all his med school glory. Jin hid his battered hands in his pockets and tried to hide his cut face as he attempted to ninja his way through the store to order a croissant instead.

His general avoidance for Augustine wasn't because he was afraid of him, but rather, he didn't trust him. He knew his reputation was as follows: the noble doctor healing those in need, regardless of background, race, gender or whatever marginalized class. Jin naturally fell into these categories and should therefore feel no hesitation to have his wounds treated by him, but it came to be that Jin preferred to suffer in silence and wait for a more "trusted" doctor to come his way, perhaps someone associated with the Syndicates.

It was then, however, that Jin began to cough rather violently, blood spitting into the palm of his hand. Perhaps for a split second, as the blood dripped from his stained lips and the painkillers failed to do their job, Jin had second thoughts.

ooc: that wasn't all that short. it's better than having unnecessary filler and wasting time lol (says me with the unnecessarily long post)

[Kupo Nutt]

◦◦◦ . »»»»»» .ℓσgαи.м.кσмαяσνѕкιι.
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My Location :: Syndicate HQ
Who I am with :: Yuuta and Jin
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xxxxx⊱I feel something so right, doing the wrong thing⊰


「 . I. F E E L . S O M E T H I N G . S O . . W R O N G . . . 」 . .
xxxxxxxxxxxxD O I N G . T H E. R I G H T . T H I N G. . . . . .　 .


__
x❝ . i . c o u l d. L i e --. e v e r y t h i n g .t h a t ..k i l l s ..-- m e . m a k e s . m e . f e e l. . a l i v e . , . . , .


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There were more technicalities to running a successful organized crime unit. It wasn’t all drugs and alcohol and running around shooting people. The Merchants had run this town for years and the Moretti family had been actively involved in the community since settlement. It never hurt to make a few public appearances and gain some citizen gratification by throwing in investments in the local small business or making generous donations to whoever the ******** organization for no one gives a s**t. You had to give a little support to gain any at all. Logan had not only been taught this, he’d seen it first hand at a young age. He remembered his family dining with the mayor’s and being invited to every single holiday party in town. It was important, appearances, and making sure your enemies knew just how many strings you pulled alone.

“The socialization side to the business is just as important as any other. Regardless, thank you for a job well done, Jin.” Despite the disrespect the subordinate was giving him, he did his best to not return it. But by the twitch in his jaw and the way the boss slowly brought his arms behind his back it was obvious he was offended and he was not happy about it. Logan was a sensitive man after all and he did not appreciate being called names.

Logan was still and quiet even after Jin had excused himself. He turned slightly after some time, taking a look at the laminated map placed neatly beside the golden chain. Logan considered the hitman lucky that he was so good at what he did. In a way he understood Jin’s lack of respect for authority, but it still wasn’t an excuse. It didn’t look good on Logan when he allowed the man to speak to him that way, and the more he thought on the situation, the more the irritation boiled.

The sound of mad dogs came over the sound of clanking dishes. Logan suspected someone was either coming or going and remembered they needed to be fed. “I need a cigarette.” He mumbled, taking three long strides across the kitchen and into the hole leading out of the bunker, he plucked a jacket, not his, from a provided coat rack and slipped both arms in before jogging up the stairs.

The outside air was cold, his heavy breath creating a visible cloud of water and ice as he exhaled. He buttoned up the unfitting coat and began to pat the pockets, pleased to find a pair of gloves and box of cigarettes inside. On the other side of the gate surrounding the bunker and buildings attached were a pack of absolutely furious dogs. They stood as close together as they could for warmth and the chance to bark their heads off at Logan as he smoked. It was almost like they knew who he was and that it was because of him they were here and starving. He swore they howled louder when they saw him.

Logan never had a particular fondness for animals and keeping the dogs as hungry as they always were meant if anyone happened to climb and fall over the top of his barbed chain-link fence, they’d likely become a meal. The dogs were in horrible shape, malnourished and many missing ears, patches of fur and maybe even a few limbs, most likely from one another. And even as Logan stood there now, counting the pack of 16, that was a pack of 18 the day before, he felt little guilt.

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[CoronelCoscacho]

█Cecyl Tenenbaum█

█The merchant's Lawyer█

█Adwokat Merchants za█

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The merchant’s Lawyer stood next to the table where his boss and the wallflower where sitting. Passing a hand over his face and taking a sip of “his beloved Kawa”, as he called the brewage, in order to wake, he took a look around him, There was his boss, barely eating his breakfast, as he noticed, and Mikhail, energic as usual. He would never understand how the kid had so much energy, especially in the morning. Regardless than that the kitchen was just as usual, not too noisy, not too full, in an ideal state, if he could say.

-Indeed, sir…- He answered to the comment of his boss, and gave another sip to his coffee. –Do you mind if I take a sit? - Asked the lawyer again with a tired tone, but at least this time it he wasn’t mumbling. as he placed a hand in the back of a chair on the other side of the table that his boss and Mikhail where using, waiting for the answer of the Moretti’s older brother.

The Second in Command then entered the room, and Cecyl greeted him as well. –G’ morning…- He said, moving a bit the coup before taking another sip, hand still grabbing the back of the chair. He gazed the newspaper next to Nico’s meal. –The syndicate’s boys are making it easy.- Thought to himself; as most noise the syndicate made, the quieter activities, such as the merchant’s ones, would go less noticed, and this was an advantaje for the attoney. Then he saw the headline about the charity party. –So it was tonight….god it will be tedious…- Thought, as he ended the coffee. This kind of events allways semmed like a pain in the a** to the Polish.

The guy called “Muscle” entered the kitchen as well. This time Cecyl only nodded with his head, getting a little tired of greeting people. He placed the empty mug in the table and listened with attention what the others discussed, still standing next to the chair.

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Location: Merchant's HQ , main kitchen.
Company: Boss, Mikhail, Deimos, Toni.
Mood: Almost awake.
What I'm thinking: Coffee is gone...

[Kupo Nutt]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxí X w α l k є d X í n t σ X t h є X r σ σ m X d r í p p í n g X í n X g σ l d ✗

✗✗✗

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx☆A wave of heads did turn, or so I've been told”

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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx ¦ w i t h ; ; No one, right? ¦ l o c a t i o n ; ; Kalas' ¦ t h o u g h t s ; ; Sorry mommy. ...



xxxxxxxxxx
“I bloody hate the snow…” seemed to be the complaint of the morning as a rather big and bulky young man stomped through the picket fence front yard and out onto the streets. It was mid-morning, just after ten and the city was already in the bustle. Even his crappy neighborhood was full of kids commuting to their bus stops and cranky parents making their way to work.

As he made it to the end of his street he noticed a soggy feeling creeping up the bottom of his pant leg. Upon further investigation he found it to be soaked through from snow and the cold began to seep into his dress socks. This of course brought on a few more mumbled curses and a motherly look from a woman holding a small child who was waiting beside him. The brutish man grinned sheepishly with a shrug before quickly making his away across the street with a less than amused expression on his face.

He’d been working with private detective Doherty for a couple months now and the two were still strangers, rarely working together unless it was necessary. Burke’s boss began to really get onto him about it though, arguing that the detective was reckless and couldn’t be on his own… Or something along the lines. Basically the chief didn’t trust the man. He didn’t feel necessarily comfortable working mob related cases, for reasons he couldn’t vocally express, yet despite his minor complaints and whining Burke was stuck.

Doherty’s office was up town some distance from where Burke and his mother lived, Burke had to hop a street trolley to make his way there. It was always awkward for him, public transportation. He was by no means a small man and squeezing into trams and cabs always earned him a few looks. It was about a fifteen minuet commute and Burke always stopped just a few blocks away to grab a quick bite to eat at a little bakery that served freshly made bagels and bread. After grabbing a few rolls and spreads as well as a cup of coffee for mister private d**k and a cup of tea for himself he practically jogged the rest of the way, which was also ridiculous looking while juggling the food and trying not to spill the liquids. When he got to the office he was a bit late, but as far as he could tell no one was in yet and the lights were still off but the door was unlocked. Burke wedged it open with his elbow and hip, tripping over the welcome mat before catching himself up against a desk. Quickly, before he could cause any more damage, he set down their breakfast and turned the shut the door. Or slammed, sometimes it was a little difficult being gentle. The building shuttered with the slam and burke cringed lightly, glancing around ashamedly, like his mother would pop around a corner and beat his head in.






xxxxxxxxxx

xxxxxxxxxxx☆ [ o o c ; ; ]

[Kefka Fanatica]

ϓ ʋ ʋ Ϯ α 雄太 Ҝ ѳ ɢ ɑ ѡ ɑ
Syndicate Second in Command.
x x x[/white] ホーム私を取る。 x x x ★★★★

As soon as Jin addressed Logan and Yuuta as 'ladies', the normally passive male's gaze sharpened tenfold and he immediately tensed. What ran through his mind was something along the lines of the nerve of that impudent s**t but he remained silent, surveying the chat between the man and his boss with distaste. Judging by Logan's body language, he did not seem impressed either. It was moments like these when the Syndicate leader managed to hold his tongue that Yuuta felt respect within him grow by a smidgeon. Jin's attitude aside though, his mind trailed to the wounds the man displayed ever so casually. The lack of compassion within the japanese man was evident as he silently hoped those wounds did scar....it wouldn't teach a lesson but it was a miserable thought that uplifted his spirits slightly.

When Jin left the room, Yuuta remained silent as well. He had finished up cleaning the kitchen by this point, leaving the room exactly as it was before his arrival. The blood spots on the floor were irritating but why should he clean after somebody else? That wasn't his job. Before he could comment on the event, Logan had stated he was going for a smoke and left within seconds. Not knowing what else to do in the meantime, Yuuta simply followed, pausing at the coat rack to carefully choose one of his bosses coats since there was no way in hell he'd want to don one of the other mafia member's mysteriously stained jackets. Besides...Logan always had nice smelling things. He discreetly flipped one of the lapels on the jacket and took a tentative sniff, mulling in the scent of pine.

The chilly wind nipped at Yuuta's nose immediately as he stepped out of the building, digging into one of Logan's coat pockets for cigarettes. His search proved useful and he produced a cancer stick, promptly lighting it. The cacophany of vicious dog barking sparked irritability within the blonde and he shot the poor, malnourished animals a scathing glare while taking a long puff of his smoke. He saw them as filthy little beasts, something that shouldn't be kept around. But they were a form of protection and presumably could hold a threat such as throwing an unfortunate enemy into the pack. No doubt the ravenous shits would devour a human being if they dared to step into the area.

Yuuta waited tentatively, quietly smoking his cigarette while standing beside Logan. It was he who spoke first in his soft, accent-lace tones. "Jin is a rude one, isn't he?" Without waiting for an answer, the man continued, "Insubordination like that should be dealt with, Logan. You're not a kid anymore." No doubt most wouldn't dare to speak to the youngest Moretti brother about situations like that but Yuuta felt he was on a comfortable enough ground with the other. He flicked some ashes off of his cigarette, glancing at the howling animals once more. "There is going to be a lot of people at the charity ball. A lot of enemies..." The Merchant's would probably have a lot of their boys there. It wouldn't feel right if the Syndicate's didn't try to even out the odds with their own men. Cops would be crawling all over the place as well. Yuuta was still inwardly pissed with himself for forgetting about the whole damned event in the first place but c'est la vie. He couldn't have a perfect memory all of the time.






x x x 私の世話を。. x x x★★★★
Location: Syndicate HQ.
Company: Logan.
OOC: xx.
x x 私はあなたのものです。 x x★★★★

[Kefka Fanatica]

нead deтecтιve - kαlαs m. dσhєrtч
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xxxx " W h a t xxxb e xxxa b o u txxx.
xxxy o u r xxx10 0 0 0 xxxp r o m i s e s xxxxxxxx. "xxxx



Once I could handle the truth
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When the truth was you and I





The office was dim, the large window shrouded by deep chocolate curtains and the lights flicked off. If one could see through the darkness, they would note the complete disarray that the cramped room was kept in. A tall bookshelf lined the wall with a moth eaten couch adjacent to it. A filing cabinet was tucked away in the corner, one of the drawers open to reveal a collection of folders forcibly stuffed inside to a breaking point. There was a lamp with a broken lamp shade on the right of the couch but the bulb was so dim that if it was lit there would be no noticeable difference. In front of the window was an ancient oak desk littered with stacks upon stacks of paper and open files, some of them hanging dangerously on the edge. Sitting in the mis-matched chair fast asleep was the infamously grouchy private investigator, Kalas Doherty.

His head was tucked against one of his arms while the other draped across the mess, a glass of scotch barely grazing his fingertips. On the floor by the foot of his desk was an opened bottle, neatly polished off the night before. The liquor was an asset for him during the night when he would feverishly examine the collected information of whatever case he was working on. In this case, it was all of the crap he could gather in regards to the charity ball that was planned for that evening. Would there be incriminating evidence? Doubtful. Could he find a way to arrest any of those blasted mafia members? Hopefully. The man wasn't much of a dreamer when he got the rare good night's sleep but there was an occasional grumble coming from those parted lips. Whatever was going on through his mind was probably displeasing.

The slam of a door cut through the peaceful silence and the detective suddenly jerked awake, his free hand accidentally swiping the glass of alcohol off of the desk. Kalas uttered a few groggy swears, pulling himself up to sit properly. He cast a dark look at Burke from behind ebony bangs and hissed, "There's something called knocking, you bumbling idiot." He sat there with a grumpy expression equivalent of that to a child before standing up to circle around his desk to the glass. Of course, it was broken. Kalas knelt down and proceeded to pick up the glass shards while mourning the loss of still-good scotch. That s**t wasn't cheap.

Kalas fought off the fatigue aching in every muscle. It wasn't often that the man got more then a two to four hour sleep once inawhile. The bags underneath his cold eyes could attest for that. He half-assed cleaned the mess then stood up to face the cop. "If the police station thinks that sending you here at this god awful time is appropriate, I will tell them where to stick that idea." The threat was empty, of course. Kalas still had to adjust to sharing his work load with another person, let alone an officer of the law. It was dead useful having the giant of a man around though...specifically Mr. Doherty enjoyed sending Burke out to do 'b***h' work.

But today there were different plans. An event that had been plaguing Kalas' mind for some time now. He would refuse attending the ball if possible but unfortunately for the surly detective, his parents happened run one of the charities being featured for the evening. They expected their only son to be there, completely unaware that Kalas had a different intent for the evening. "Take a seat. We need to discuss tonight." He dropped the broken shards of glass into an overfilled trash bin before taking a seat in his beloved office chair once more. "I know that the Moretti family will be at the charity ball. I have to attend as well...but I'm going to need you, Burke." As Kalas spoke, he opened the bottom drawer of his desk, dug around for a moment, then produced a silver flask. He took a quick swig before explaining further, "You're going to be my backup. Got it? If I can catch some of those mafia pricks doing something illegal..."





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Location: Doherty Investigations Office.
Company: Burke.

『 ☆ 』

[Kupo Nutt]

◦◦◦ . »»»»»» .ℓσgαи.м.кσмαяσνѕкιι.
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My Location :: Syndicate HQ
Who I am with :: Yuuta
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xxxxx⊱I feel something so right, doing the wrong thing⊰


「 . I. F E E L . S O M E T H I N G . S O . . W R O N G . . . 」 . .
xxxxxxxxxxxxD O I N G . T H E. R I G H T . T H I N G. . . . . .　 .


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x❝ . i . c o u l d. L i e --. e v e r y t h i n g .t h a t ..k i l l s ..-- m e . m a k e s . m e . f e e l. . a l i v e . , . . , .


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Things remained silent for a while, Logan didn’t even acknowledge Yuuta other than a side ways glance and slight nose wrinkle when he noticed the younger man wearing his coat. Not that he minded much him wearing it, just the fact he could have grabbed his own in the first place irritated him even further. Logan sighed a puff of smoke pass his lungs, twirling his dead match between his thumb and forefinger. Eventually it snapped in half and he tossed the two pieces to the floor, waiting for his friend to say something. He knew it was coming…

“I know that.” Logan hissed when it did come, not taking the critique kindly. He hadn’t been a child for a long time. “He’s good at what he does and that is what counts, least for this moment. We’re still fresh on the scene. Our numbers are lacking compared to theirs and the people still fear stepping out of Merchant line. I’ll take what I can get and be picky when I can afford to.” The youngest Moretti was not by any means an idiot and he knew what needed to be done. Most of the time.

Some of the dogs had tired by now, a few were sat back panting but still eyeing the two men smoking across from them. The dog upfront was the only one still insistently yapping while a some others around him just gruffed and grumbled while pacing the length of the fence. The subject change came with a little more ease for the young boss, his shoulders noticeably relaxed now, “They’d be stupid to try anything… the family has been donating to this charity for years, security will be up as many important players will be there. There isn’t any need to worry, things will be fine.” But, even as he insisted on it, there was this dreadful uneasy feeling creeping up on him. If anything, it would only be an uncomfortable night.

“Even so, I’ll be sure to surround myself with friends, eh? Strength in numbers.” Logan smiled again, eyes shutting temporarily. He had a soft smile, quiet and maybe even a little modest, completely opposite of how he actually was but some how it was still fitting. “What shall we do until then, Yuuta?” He asked after finishing off his current cigarette and flicking it on the ground along side the broken match used to light it.

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ooc- I'm tired and lazy and sorry it shows in this post uwu

[your really gay friend]

I have a heart I swear I do
But just not baby when it comes to you
I get so hungry when you say you love me (hush)
If you know what's good for you
I think you're hot I think you're cool
You're the kinda guy I'd stalk in school
But now that I'm famous, you're up my a**s
Now I'm gonna eat you fool!

MIKHAIL : Wallflower [wôlflouər]

"If I don't have to do it, I won't. If I have to do it, I'll make it quick"

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The wallflower smiled happily and sat down with the boss, "of course Boss~ I even found more ways to obtain more information near their base" said the man pulling his long braid over his shoulder and playing with some strands of his long, dark hair, "[girly giggling] I see you drank the coffee I layed out on your desk Cecyly-poo~ did you like it? I moved it so you would drink it" smiled the man with a sly smirk and winking at the lawyer, it was one of Mikhail's favorite things to do in the whole world was to mess with Cecyl, weather it be pulling his suspenders reeeeaaaaal far and letting them go to being in his office and dramatically touching his stuff in front of his face. Mikhail swears he cannot go a day without teasing Cecyl and watching him get mad, he especially liked it when cecyl's face got red with rage. "by the way Cecyl, you should clean up in your office, it would be a shame if someone where to just waltz in there and organize evrything~"said the man with an evil smirk and his ruby eyes staring back into cecyl's eyes through his glasses. the man smirked mischievously and then taking a sip of his coffee and smiling at everyone sweetly. but his smile then faltered away a little, he was thinking about the preparations for tonight, and what was tonight? tonight when everyone goes to bed, mikhail was planning on setting up wire taps, voice recorders and such in places he couldn't disclose... all kinds of scenarios playing throughout his mind, he grumbled a little and sipped the soothing liquid. he pulled out a small piece of paper and a pink hello kitty pen, he then sketched out the base plan for tonight, he marked down all the scenarios he thought of and then came up with ways to avoid them so he could present it to his boss and co-workers later on...

Where: Merchants base kitchen
With: EVERYONE
OOC: time to piss Cecyl off >D

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I eat boys up, breakfast and lunch
Then when I'm thirsty, I drink their blood
Carnivore animal, I am a cannibal
I eat boys up, you better run!