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Ӄῖηɠɖȏɱ: Ƚʋȿȶ

Dante couldn't help but chuckle at the boy's words. "Very well." He continued stripping until he was naked, sure that his 'partner' was well in the shower by time he was fully naked. He changed into a fresh pair of boxers and began to hunt for something to wear for the two of them.

By time Eoghan was out of the shower he was still just in boxers. He turned to greet the boy, blushing slightly as he took in his nearly naked body. He threw a pair of jeans, along with clean boxers, at him. They were his size, something he picked up a while ago. He had began slowly collection simple clothing for the boy, nothing too expensive since he would probably attempt to gut him for it. He picked out a black tank top and tossed it his way also.

"So to the bay?" He shrugged, knowing they wouldn't find anything. With that he donned his own clothing.

~~~~~

Three hours later and they were towards the edge of the bay. He now had on simple clothing, black jeans and a white v-neck. He opted out of wearing any plaid since his friend seemed so against it.

He let out a low chuckle, "Told you." He smiled but continued to walk. He shrugged as he was asked what to do now. "I told you, tonight was your night."

Dante continued to watch Eughan, he was acting a little differently. Not much, but just enough that he could notice it. His eyes were shooting this way and that, not much unlike his own, but not for the same reason. He placed one of his hands firmly on the other boy's shoulder in an attempt to ground him. "Are you okay?" His voice was low and laced with concern. "You're acting a bit strange, is something wrong? Did I say something wrong?" The last bit was a joke, but suddenly his eyes found himself elsewhere. He was in a small forest, blood pouring from an open wound in his side. A bow was strapped around his chest and he was running across, no on, the water of a small stream. He could hear a wild animal behind him, no a pack of animals. He was suddenly back in his own eyes and he blinked to focus himself. Did someone drug him?

“Baby steps,” His voice was soft and soothing, like a warm embrace. There was a promise behind those two words. He had complete faith in her and believed the future was bright for the pretty Blonde. Bright – in more than one meaning of the word. “We’ll take one tiny step at a time. Have faith. You’ll be outside one day… even if it’s only for half a second. We’ll make it happen.”

He wasn’t lying to her. He wasn’t speaking empty pretty words just to make her feel a moment of happiness. He believed it could happen and he wanted her to believe it as well. He wanted to plant a seed inside her chest and watch it grow into a ball of hope. A ray of sunshine. He needed her to believe it so she could build up the courage to make it happen. He could only do so much. He could feed her pretty words, give a motivational speech, a pep talk, and hold her hand (figuratively) during this long journey. He could bring her to the door but he couldn’t open it for her. She had to do that herself.

In order to be outside, she had to overcome her fears.

He smiled when she corrected him. Dominique was surely confident about their upcoming game of chess. He admired that. Confidence was a good trait to have. Now if only she could exhibit the same confidence when dealing with germs.

Her pessimistic words chased away his smile. What could he do to make her believe that she wasn’t serving a life sentence at the asylum? The doctor was quiet for a moment as he thought about his next move. She took his rook… his precious rook… and added it to her neat collection next to her side of the board.

“Just watch. One day I’ll be knocking on your apartment door with a chess set in one arm begging for a rematch.” He said as he moved his bishop. She was very clearly going to win this game and each piece she took was like a bullet to his ego. It would take a miracle for him to win at this point.

He softly chuckled upon hearing the perfectly spoken French from the lovely Dominique. “Merci, toi aussi. [Thanks, you too]” Kreslin was far from fluent. He could hold a decent conversation but there were still many, many phrases he did not know. He watched her analyze the board with a smile on his face. Then suddenly something clicked in his brain. As the thought rose to the surface, the smile faded and he looked as if he was in a state of deep concentration. Nowhere on her file did it say that she knew French. English was the only language listed. Although her name was French, it didn’t necessarily suggest she spoke the language. Unless he was mistaken…

No, not possible. Kreslin did not make such silly mistakes.

Perhaps she forgot to mention it. It wasn’t something he should worry about but he’d definitely ask her about it later.
__________________________________________

Kreslin followed close behind the panicked orderly, swiftly making his way down the brightly lit hallway. His happy expression turned serious as he entered doctor mode. Emergencies happened a few times a week… at most. Sometimes a patient was found choking on some obscure piece of furniture that somehow found its way inside their mouths. Sometimes it was a seizure, or a suicide attempt, or a homicide attempt, or in Dominique’s case, a panic attack.

Sometimes he felt more like a babysitter than a doctor.

“I see you’ve decided to join us,” He smirked as he saw Dominique’s petite figure trailing behind them. “Let’s see what Santa brought us. I hope it’s a pony…I’ve always wanted a pony.” A playful laugh escaped him as he noticed the curiosity in her eyes. He silently hoped it wasn’t a room covered with bodily fluids. The last thing he needed was a double emergency.

The last thing he expected was an escaped patient. The doctor stood at the entrance of John Greene’s room with a look of pure skepticism on his face. He’d dealt with attempted escapes before but not one had been successful. There were cameras on every corner on the interior and exterior of this building. There were guards, orderlies, nurses, and of course, himself. Escaping was not an easy task but John Greene had apparently found the secret recipe. “A hole,” He said, pointing at the ditch on the floor. Dirt spilled out on all sides and he looked over at Dominique to make sure she was okay. “How… did he manage that?” Pushing his curiosity aside, his tone suddenly shifted. “And you didn’t notice this? No one noticed? Damien have you been sleeping on the job again?”

The orderly shook his head. “We just lost a patient. Down. A. Hole. Don’t just stand there. Go check on the others. Start looking for Greene. Make yourself useful! Then maybe… you won’t end up unclogging toilets at gas stations.”
__________________________________________

Brown eyes lingered on the cabinet beneath his desk. His fingers toyed with the keys that would unlock his hidden treasure. In his mind it was glowing like a thousand fireflies. In his mind it was calling to him with the sweet voice of a siren. Just a minute… It couldn’t hurt right?

Three hours passed since he discovered the missing patient and those three hours were spent on the phone with a variety of individuals. The local businesses around the mental hospital weren’t helpful. He had a long talk with the hospital’s security and they were currently out looking for Greene. The orderlies were placed on guard duty and they were to make sure all patients stay in their assigned areas. There were a few people he has yet to contact and they were, in his opinion, the most important people. John’s parents were still unaware, the police had not been informed of the asylum’s escaped patient, Kirios could not be reached, and Sokar did not know.

But he’d do that later… after a date with his favorite substance. Kreslin unlocked the cabinet, took out a small tank of laughing gas, and commenced his favorite hobby. After a few deep breaths, his stress weakened and a tingling sensation could be felt in his limbs. A few chuckles escaped him and a sense of euphoria flooded through him. He felt warm and happy and suddenly the escaped patient didn’t seem as important as it did five minutes ago.

The guy dug his way out of a mental hospital. Maybe he’d forget about it and grant him the freedom he most definitely earned.

|311|

Location - Sleight of Fortune, Playing Hooky? Reminds me of high school all over again.
Rank - Blackjack Dealer

Maelona seemed to be thinking about something as Richard greeted her which made Richard naturally curious. A small spread on her face and he addressed her which Richard returned. At her statement of not needing a break from the flirting Richard nodded. "Good to know as I am not entirely sure I could have withheld any and all flirting while in your intoxicating presence Doll." A wink followed his statement. At the rest of her statement Richard shook his head no to walking around in heels. That was something he would never do. He wasn't Lucas after all. As she mentioned the flirting just to get better tips Richard let out a chuckle of his own. "Naturally. I would do the same in your place. Unfortunately my job doesn't have the benefit of tips. It's a shame really."

Eyebrows raised as she mentioned just debating on leaving. That was a slight surprise to hear. Then again it was a little slow on the floor. As she mentioned not even feeling like coming in to begin with Richard gave an understanding nod. "I have had those days before. Unfortunately rent has to come first. Not that I am struggling mind you. Just I do like having extra money around to do things with like take a beautiful woman out to dinner." As he was asked the same question he had posed Richard shrugged looking at the clock. "I am unsure at the moment. Would you like some company while you play hooky? I would not be against leaving early. Maybe we can catch some dinner somewhere?" As he posed the question he gave her a slight smile. "Strictly as friends if you want. I expect no kiss goodnight after all." Unless of course she wanted to give him a kiss goodnight then who was he to deprive her of such a thing.

OOC: Another horrible post. I will try to get Elliot up sometime today or tomorrow.

Now that the world isn't ending.
It's love that I'm sending to you.
It isn't the love of a hero.
And that's why I fear it won't do.

[[[O.O.C.: Short. I apologize if I did any god-modding with some of your characters. Progress needed to be made with our little group.]]]

Kingdom and Title: Manhattan Psychiatric Center - CEO and owner
Location/Situation and Form: at Skin, with Mishka

All things truly wicked start from an innocence.
~Ernest Hemingway

When his ire had been triggered, Sokar would not have believed anything could distract him from it. Yet the Skin girl had done so utterly and completely. Now he found himself once more in something akin to a trance, his heavy body laying slightly on top of Mishka's, bearing the majority of his weight on his side however so that she was not crushed beneath him. He merely smiled at her murmur, feeling proud of himself, a** any other hot-blooded male might when hearing praises from the fairer sex. His delicate Skin girl got up to her knees however, and he looked up at her while flding his arms beneaht his massive chest to hold himself up.

At first, he just couldn't process what Mishka was telling him. He had to make himself sit up, keeping his hands down on the bed as he moved, almost like a dog in a sitting position. The very important information finally cleared thorugh the man's brain, getting past his wall of denial. of course,t he first words out of his mouth were as stupid as possible. "Are you sure?"

Blinking for a few seconds, he realized there was no way she'd bring this up, nor attach him to the blame, unless she was sure beyond a doubt. "I mean," Well what did he mean? He was not a family man, not by any stretch of the imagination. He had his girls here, and after paying them, he didn't have to worry about them. Or did he? Hadn't he found himself with his mind wandering at work, worried that Mishka was with a client? Not "another client", as he considered himself closer to this woman than any of those types. She was his girl, as if they were regulars at a bar, and she not a prostitute. but htere was the rub. Whores and kids didn't mix, did that mean Mishka had merely suckered him in, to be able to handle the financial burden of the little bun in her oven?

For a flash of a second, he felt furoius that was what she had done, and he tightened his fists as if to strike her. It wouldn't fix anything if he crushed her delicate facial bones with a few blows, to grab her throat too tightly to let her scream. But no, sanity returned swiftly as he just KNEW by the way she looked at him that he was special to her, as special as she to him. In a bound that caused Mishka's body to almost lose her balance, Sokar's arms were wrapped tightly around the woman's body, holding her so tightly to his chest that their sweat mingled. But he held her tightly from her shoulders, instinct (from possibly both humand and lupine minds) to know better than to press her midsection.

"How.. how long?" came the hesitant question. It was a terrifying thought as it snowballed in his mind. Mishka's baby was his baby. When would he see it as more than a lump on her stomach? Wait, babies were boys and girls, which would they get? And what sort of "we" was this? He swallowed hard and pulled away a little from Mishka, though kept one arm around her back and shoulder, keeping her close enough to feel his body heat. He was frightened yes, of all these possibilities that were out there, but he wasn't upset anymore. Why was Mishka so sad? "Don't worry Mish', ir's OK. It's s damn surprise, but I can deal It's OK, right?" Women on all sorts of television showws and films were excited about this, so why did Mishka still look as if he was going to punch her right in the belly?

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Ӄingdom: New York
Ɍank: Sinful Boss
Ƚocation: Skin brothel
Ⱦhoughts: Amazing how much one pays for sex

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Vincent could not help but laugh at the brothel owner’s comments. Naturally, he very well enjoyed his stay as much as the man implied. Naedira always knew exactly how to please the mob boss, and that was not always an easy thing to do. There was a reason Skin had at least six different women who had only had him for a single night and never saw him again. Vincent was a man that demanded nothing short of the absolute best; this was true of the thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes he currently wore, to his cars, to his home, to his employees, and naturally sex. He was a man of exquisite taste, and anything that could not measure up was quickly discarded and forgotten.

”Fair indeed,” he assured Trey. ”Or would I be standing here handing you money that not the case?” he added jokingly. Could he be blamed for being so demanding? He did not think so. Every time he came here, or did anything really, he was exchanging hard earned money for something. He was a customer, and as a customer he demanded to be satisfied with whatever he was giving money for. It was simple economics. But Trey had a fair point; Naedira never failed to satisfy his needs. In the arena of sex, she was downright talented. ”That she does not, my friend.”

”Oh, I plan to enjoy my day too,” he responded with a chuckle as he let Naedira go fetch the woman he’d chosen to accompany the two. Once again his choice came from his notorious fine taste. The woman was every bit as beautiful and alluring as Naedira was, and frankly Vincent wondered how he’d ever missed her before. It might have had something to do with the fact that he rarely saw the show floor anymore; he already had what he wanted. But at the very least he’d be making up for lost time, even if he was only buying her time as a favor to Naedira.

He smiled as the two returned, both their forms even more pleasing to his eye now that they were only a few feet away. He took a moment to eye the new arrival in his company up and down a few times. She was definitely every bit as gorgeous up close as he’d thought her only a few minutes ago from afar. He almost kicked himself for ever overlooking her. He smirked as Naedira introduced them. ”The best kind,” he told Corrine with a cool tone as he took her by the hand, gracing it with a gentle kiss. ”But please, I’ll have none of that Mr. Wolfram nonsense. Call me Vincent. Mr. Wolfram makes me feel old.”

He turned back toward Trey when he addressed the woman, his own lips curving upward. ”Can’t I show them a good time too?” He offered the man a wink and turned away from him. He brought the women closer, wrapping an arm around each of their waists as he made his way out of the floor and toward his car waiting out back. Frankly, he could not wait to get home and unwrap both his arm candies, though unfortunately that would have to wait. He did have a stop or two to get to first, but at the very least they would be there to keep him company and at the very least build a craving for later.

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The first hour since he’d left the brothel was mundane enough. He’d spent it at a rather elegant five star restaurant with both the paid prostitutes and several family members he often forgot even existed. One of his cousins wanted his family there for an announcement. He wanted to celebrate the fact that he was getting married… or having a child… or- frankly, Vincent was not even listening. Most of his time was spent talking with the two women on either side of him, and occasionally letting his hands wander on them while everyone else’s attentions were elsewhere. It was one of those rare moments where he was both being fed and building an appetite at the same time. After the toast and their lunch, the mob boss excused himself and the two women in his company.

The rest of the time, however, was not wasted in the slightest. He’d paid quite a bit of money, and he had a few hours to kill, so he took the women home to his rather large and ornate house in the quiet neighborhood known as Gramercy Park. He took them to his master bedroom, and took them both at the same time, ensuring he got his money’s worth. Needless to say, it was a fun afternoon for him. Corrine was definitely worth the extra money; Naedira was every bit as good, if not better, as he expected. And being sandwiched between two women who were both extremely beautiful and just as talented in their art was about as good as it got.

But eventually the fun times had to end. He did have business to attend to. Chief among these was checking up on Lincoln, one of his best soldiers, and his drug connections and see how business was doing. Being ever the one for grand entrances, he chose to visit the man at his home unannounced. Naturally, both Naedira and Corrine were present at either side of him, again as arm candy. He took his arm from around Corrine’s waist for a moment only to rap on Lincoln’s door three times, then placed it where it belonged on her side once more. He smiled at the woman, offering her a wink and a gentle squeeze. If there was one thing that could be said about Vincent Wolfram it was that he had an insatiable lust, both for blood and flesh.

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Name: Lilith Apox/Lil' Lil Stefani
Rank: Commoner/Soldata (Italian-American)
Kingdom/Family: New York/Virtue
Location: Casino lobby to Altonair's office


Her group had followed him to his office after the initial courtesies', however cold and unbidden they might have been. Lil looked around to get an idea of how Altonair ran the place as he led them up and into the office that towered over his fortress, one that she had overheard her boss say he had built himself. It was admirable. If only she had the cunning required to build her business into something half this stature. She wasn’t a brilliant person when it came to certain things, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t at least try it and in that she was resourceful, and so far her stands were bringing in a sizeable amount of funds. Listening to this casino man talk about how he ran an honest business made her feel slightly guilty about how she ran hers...well, not really. Business was an open term to Mafia members, Virtuous or not.

When Altonair had first brought them into his office she was expecting more of a fight to be honest. Or at least that he would be surrounded by large men, ready to kill whoever foolishly tried to harm his being, but alas that wasn’t what Altonair did either. Instead, he calmly sat behind his desk alone in a room while five heavily armed people were across from him. James liked his weapons she knew, so always had one with him, but she wasn’t actually sure Soren was armed with a gun, but Lil always had a sneaking suspicion she carried grenades inside her briefcase. The thought of it always made her laugh inside. Today however she was so serious looking, mostly because she was quiet during most of the meeting, which made Lil a little uncomfortable. Images of that actor Al Pacino popped in her mind, “Say hello to my little friends”. Lil thought pluralizing friend seemed more fitting in this case for Soren. Even when Altonair made openly discourteous remarks, Soren paid no mind to them, or so Lil had thought. She could very well be fuming underneath that calm distant look.

Lil had stayed far from Altonair’s desk, leaning against the wall with the door they had come through, not only to thwart any unknown dangers that could burst in at any point in time, but to place herself in a way that didn’t crowd her Consig or Capo. Altonair as well, but only as an after thought. She’d had times when she felt like she was being ganged up on, when all she wanted was to return a damn TV that was broken when they delivered it to her apartment. But no, the damn manager, assistant manager, and even two of the snot nosed associate brats got in her face and and and...anyway, it was none too comfortable. She shifted her body weight to distract herself from the anger that started to rise from not only that memory but countless others similar and worse, her current predicament rising to the foreground. Remembering her extremely brief talk to Ryan (he hadn’t actually gotten to answer her yet, due to James saying they had to go right when she posed the question to him) she began to look towards him to get his attention. She pulled out her phone to text him, hoping he had it on him and if so that it was on vibrate. “If you want to take my offer then we can do this right now. I’ll just tell them I got an important message from so and so and that I need you to come with me. Altonair isn’t going to give in. So what do you think? You game?”

After pushing the send button she watched him for a second, but then heard Altonair saying what seemed to be his final peace on the matter. She wondered if that was it, that James had lost. Thinking it was one thing, but hearing it was another. Yeah, she herself just said that he wasn’t going to sell, but she had also said a silent prayer in hopes she would be wrong. She knew she shouldn’t leave, but her mind kept going back to those damn cops interfering with things, and the people behind it, or so one of her informers told her. She looked down at her phone, anticipating at least some good news, if only for herself.




{OOC: I hope this didn't spoil anyone's plans, if so let me know. And thanks Aeon! I didn't know how to start. >_<

Are you sure? Rang through the room her heart skipping a beat as she bit lightly on her lower lip and glanced down. Yes she was. She wished to hell she wasn’t. She wished it was a mistake but she’d heard the heart beat. Seen the sonogram. She slowly looked up at him, no doubt dancing in her eyes. Sincerity and fear lingered in their blue depths. “I wish.. I wasn’t.” She whispered as he spoke again. Grasping for his own understanding as she remembered her own thoughts on it when she’d heard. Christ she’d been on the pill, used condoms with everyone but him. There was no doubt in her mind who the father was. Sure he probably thought that she was doing this for extra money.

I mean a man like him? Who wouldn’t. He owned an asylum and obviously had plenty of cash laying around. But the skin girl wasn’t that kind of girl. Yes she slept with men for money, obviously her morals were pretty low but god she wouldn’t do that to him. Hell she didn’t even know why she was telling him. Maybe some…some part of her wanted him to comfort her. To tell her it was going to be alright and that he’d be there for her. Hell maybe even take her away from this place and make an honest woman out of her. She didn’t know she was so confused and lost.

Even scared that he’d reject her and force her to give up the child. Something she already told Trey she wouldn’t and she would only have a job for another few more months--till she started showing. Mishka was jerked from her thoughts as she was pulled against the sold board wall of Sokar’s chest. She blinked fighting back a sudden dizzy spell. Her arms instantly found their way around him as she rested her forehead against his shoulder. Fighting back tears that wanted to break free. Unsure of what this hug meant, did it mean he believed her…did it mean goodbye? Or was it out of pity.? She just wasn’t sure. Yet the warmth of his body made her relax against him and a small sigh left her lips.

His question caused her head to rise a fraction of an inch as she remembered what the doctor had said--not that she’d actually forget. “Fourteen weeks..” She whispered. “Three and a half months.” She added knowing some were confused with the weeks ordeal. It even confused her. She couldn’t count how many times on the way home that she had mentally divided four into fourteen, counted the amount of weeks that were in a month until it got her up to fourteen weeks. When he pulled back, her chin lifted looking up at him. Her lips flirted with a small frown and cast her gaze back down. “It wasn’t..I wasn’t..” She bit her lip. “I wasn’t worried…to..to much about you finding out..” Her hand instinctively rose to her throat as if silently trying to tell him.

“It’s…” She didn’t know how to say it as the dull sting radiated up her throat. “Trey wants me to have an abortion…it’s either that or I’ll be out on the streets.” Her large pools rose to him, resembling that of a frightened dear as she searched his face. “I can’t Sokar. I .. I know I’m a whore and no good for a baby but I just can’t give it up. I heard it’s little heart beat, it’s living.. And it’s apart of me. Of us.. I just..” She looked back down. “I’m so terrible and selfish. I need this job. It pays good money. I just.. I just.” She clung to him and cried. “I don’t--” sniffles mixed with sobs. “Know..” She hiccupped, looking and sounding truly pathetic as she clung to her client. “What to do.” She whimpered.

Oh god she was so pathetic right now. So confused something--deep in her told her not to cry to suck it up that woman of some word lost to her (thanks to the meddling witch) do not cry. They are strong and let nothing get to them. Yet here she was, leaning on a man--using him for support rather than standing on her own two feet. She felt so hollow. So weak. Knowing someone some where was frowning at her actions. Slowly she stopped her tears, held back the small sniffles and leaned away from him. “I’m sorry…I’m so hormonal lately.” She whispered and produced a small but convincing smile as she pulled her hands away from him and ran the backs of them under her eyes.

Oh she wasn’t going to give up. She wasn’t going to give up her child. It was apart of her and would remain that way. Come hell or high water. There was nothing Trey could do to her to make her abort this pregnancy. Nothing. Nothing.