𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈

@branshapiro​ location: cressino farm - post plot drop / 22nd August

Handing Rocco over to Elena had gone almost as smoothly as she’d predicted it to, then again - there were very few plans that Jack put in place that ever seemed to go awry. She’d earned her reputation from being near flawless in everything she did, all while keeping her face out of the memories of those that might remember her for what she was. Intricate, the web she wove and still; a knot had spun itself somewhere that she couldn’t quite place just yet. At least, not until all hell broke loose as the first gunshot pierced flesh. As if she might not have been there at all, Jack drifted with the chaotic crowd almost aimlessly, a phantom of death among the living, the blade secured beneath the sleeve of her dress dropping into the palm of her hand as she moved. Sight of a known Scorpion soldier tripping, falling towards her almost pulled a smirk to her lips as she stepped into him, the knife sliding between his ribs almost far too easily. The body fell, and she breathed out a sigh - one in the same that caught briefly in her throat as the sight of another, disappearing. Let it go. Jack froze, in a sense that was almost entirely unlike her. Every move and thought ran fluid, almost entirely mechanical and yet now, something between the two snapped. A short circuit that had her brothers words circling her head. Seems you might care for him more than you would like to admit.. A cursory glance across the room allowed a quick headcount of scorpions who remained - enough to encourage the destruction the Vipers intended to ensue. Seething, Jack moved quickly, pushing away the stranger who lent over Brandon, “You had to add hero complex to the list of bullshit, didn’t you?” Obsidian hues leveled with his as she lent down, pressing her free hand down into the wound in his shoulder, “I’m gonna’ help you up, keep low and move as quickly as you can, don’t let go of me.” Hues lingered a little longer on his, and unconsciously, she swallowed back roughly before she looked up, snatching up a gun, half concealed beneath a now unmoving body. Checking the clip, she counted three bullets left and snapped it back into place before she slip her arm beneath him to haul him to his feet.

HE WAS NEVER much of a panicker, and it is because of this fact that Brandon found himself still inside the venue, still amongst the chaos, since while he might have been irritated that the circumstances around him were less than ideal, he liked to think he manages to stay relatively calm enough in crisis so that he can do the job he was trained for. He didn’t have time to stand around and be shocked that someone was just killed, or that everyday people he knew were being threatened. He couldn’t think about the elderly, or the children, or that he hadn’t seen some of his friends in a while. Times like these meant only one thing to Brandon and that was that he couldn’t afford to be himself when it was only a few short moments ago that he had been brave dumb enough to put himself at the absolute mercy of the universe to help people who couldn’t help themselves. A silent prayer going up as he decided to stick around, not allowing himself the time to do anything else but focus on the job quite literally at his hand. 

Only he hadn’t expected to get shot as a thank you in the midst of it. 

When the decision to use her invite to the wedding as an in for the vipers, Jack hadn’t felt the need to think twice about the decision. It served a bigger purpose than the endgame the Volkov’s had in mind. One in which, seemed to still the tiltilating feeling in her stomach that came with not really knowing why she’d agreed in the first place. His exuberant line of questioning over the matter a vine that seemed attached to the very same ripple as whatever freedom from it she might have earned herself, dissipated as he followed. Her heel jarred harshly into the ground as he stepped in her way, the cold, hardened gaze within onyx hues unforgivable at best as he did what so few were ever willing to to. Getting in Jack Taylor’s way was a quick way to meet a swift end, and perhaps if he understood that in ways she knew he never would, he’d have thought better of it. Then again - with the predilection of his ego, she could have been wrong. “Why do I keep brushing you off?” Though polite wasn’t exactly something that Jack made a habit of being, what soon fell from her lips was as far from it as she’d been with him just yet. “Because you’re bullshit, Brandon. Everything about you is absolutely bullshit.” The conviction in her voice is surely enough to drive the point home, however, her hand raises and seemingly lifts to make contact with his chest - only it never does, “You think you have everyone fooled with your rich kid, golden boy act, but not me.” Rather than admit that she’d spent the better part of the night observing him, among others, Jack moved quickly, her hand falling away. The fact of the matter was, people like that didn’t come to see people like her just to spar. She’d seen the aggression that slipped through, the frustration and anger.. guilt,  Perhaps, hypocrite, didn’t quite meet it’s match in the form of Jack Taylor, the haunting truth of the myriad of lies she lived purely to survive the way she did existed as an overhanging shadow that dimmed the light in hues that looked back at her now. “You asked me here, and I don’t know if you’ve figured this out yet, Brandon, but I’m not a piece of fucking arm candy so the very least you could do is drop all this fake bullshit you carry around with you or save it for one of the other dozens of morons you manage to buy over with it. ‘Cause that’s not me.” She finished on a breathless high, obsidian hues still fixated on him as if she dared him to try and argue with her. Foolish she may have been, to agree to any of this at all given her track record, but like hell she’d be caught believing something so nonsensical. “I came with you because you asked,” An easy enough, followed by another, “And I happen to really really love the stench of horse manure coddled with more bullshit. God knows the people here carry enough of it between them, so Inevitably, it makes sense that you were invited.” A moment of silence soon fell upon her, the palm of her hand heated against the champagne flute in her hand felt unnatural - all  of it felt unnatural to her. “I fucking hate weddings. I hate wearing heels, and this dress…– I can’t.. stand this dress,” to which, a gentle laugh blossomed on her lips, soon drowned out by wine.

HE WAS A Clemson alum. A third son. A paramedic. He’d been reared by politically - minded parents who raised him to be charming, glossy, and expensive, as he grew into a life most people would beg for. No white picket fence to name of, but an All American childhood filled with prized thoroughbreds, expansive swimming pools, and having a certain pull wherever he went thanks to the generational legacy his family had planted in the heart of their Texan town. Teal eyed and rosy, Brandon always had the ease of someone who had always been and always will be just fine, a man of a thousand second chances when Lord only knew he deserved one. 

So being called out for bullshit had him stuck in his shiny Tom Ford shoes with his whole body stunned, unable to shake the feeling like he had just been double slapped while something like anxiety gripped him at the shoulders. There was a blood - pounding sound in his ears as flashes of memories he thought he had shoved to the darkest depths of his mind began making their way back up to the surface, turning him ugly all because he couldn’t push aside the fact that Jack perhaps knew him better than he knew himself. She didn’t buy his shit and, in all honesty, he didn’t either. Who he truly was at his core was a strange subject for him, he danced around it and fiddled with the rules and laws of how much of himself he could genuinely show to other people without tarnishing the reputation he so meticulously forged from gold, absolving missteps with his own fractured sense of morality so he could continue being the golden retriever everyone knew and loved. He couldn’t admit it now, but everything she said was true and he hated himself for it, only he couldn’t let her know that. 

❝ I’m bullshit? Me? ❞ He hadn’t realized it at first but he was laughing something ugly between his words, each peal hollow and mocking. ❝ You couldn’t even look me in the eyes two minutes ago ‘n now you want to call me out because you’re unreadable ‘n I’m trying to make sense of it? I’m the problem in this equation right now, that’s what you’re goin’ with? ❞ Brandon’s eyes stayed on her trying to register if there was any tell - tale side of this being some sort of twisted joke, only all he was met with was that same stony glare. He could still feel the sting of her words burning through him and felt himself step forward angrily, one stride almost closing the gap between them and making their gesture look intimate, two lovers sharing secrets instead of appearing like the exact opposite. ❝ When’s the last time you looked in the mirror, Jack? You think you know me? Have you met yourself lately? ❞ No, he wasn’t doing this tonight. Brandon took his eyes off her to shake his head like he was trying to rid himself of the feelings that were latching onto him and stepped back so he couldn’t focus on the perfume that lingered from her skin or the way her mouth parted when she spoke, ignoring each jab she left on him and trying not to feel so burned out by the sudden disinterest and dislike in her decision to come, the admittance of how she really felt. 

STARTER 💍  @branshapiro​​​​

LOCATION: Cressino Farm

Carmen found herself observing the wedding most of the time. The only reason she wasn’t on her ass drunk just yet was because she was on goddamn duty. The red flags popping up one after another. And one of the biggest red flags, shooting up out of nowhere. She stood at the bar, her vision focusing on him with her, an actual snake. And as soon as she left his side, Carmen swiftly grabbed her champagne flute and made her way right next to him at the bar. 

“Hi, you,” she greeted him casually, taking a swig of the bubbly liquid. Finally turning her head to look at him and scan his appearance for the night, meeting his eyes again. “So– that’s how you feel, huh?” She asked him sternly.

HE HAD JUST finished the last of his drink by the time he caught notice of a figure approaching him, only nothing prepared him for the realization of the whom since the last person he figured he’d run into at this wedding while on their own would be her. Dipped in a dress that fit like no other and aimed straight his way, this was a reversal sort of thing if he ever saw one. Usually it was him seeking her, not the other way around, though what was one more unwarranted surprise to add on for the night? The urge to signal up for another drink was strong as he turned out to face the crowd at her approach, his elbows propped onto the bar as she inched closer with a greet that could have been sweet had it not be soured by her following question.

❝ Pardon? ❞ This habit of being out of the loop with the women clouding his life was beginning to bother him, the sternness in her voice not once going unnoticed. Attention still on the crowd, Brandon didn’t turn while he continued, his eyes already combing floor around them for Jack. ❝ You’ll hafta to catch me up to speed with what you want, Carmen. I’ve used up all my mixed signals for the night, so give it to me straight or we can discuss whatever is on your mind another time. ❞ Or never, he was fine with that too. 

~

Maybe it was in the way she was moving faster than she was regularly use to that she didn’t fully register the male to be standing there as someone she knew. Finally standing still she smiled widely at Brandon already grateful to have his presence and the way she always found amusement in it. She chuckled at the sound of her name coming out pointedly from his lips and turned to the opposite end instead of offering a response. Pulling the bottle of whiskey and the appropriate glass before returning to where he was stood. It wasn’t hard to feel his eyes on her, almost smirking as she poured and slid it in his direction. “Whiskey neat for the gentlemen.” she repeated and with a quick glance to see that no other guests were waiting she settled in her spot. “Thank you,” she responded with a nod as if he were stating a well known fact. The dress she wore in particular was doing everything the already high level of confidence she had in her looks. “You though,” she paused pointing to the length of him, already trying to hide the pull of a smile. “You look —alright. Is this an off day for you Brandon?” she teased although her gaze most likely betrayed her, as they danced over the way the suit fit his build. 

MARIA WAS BEAUTIFUL, that much had been clear from the moment he met her, but what Brandon appreciated the most was that she didn’t need to hear that from him, or anyone else, to know it and that only added a certain level of appeal that most people he knew often lacked. His own vanity was large enough to fill an entire ballroom and then some, so he wasn’t too disheartened by her following words especially when he caught her trailing a finger over the frame of him, tone edged on teasing, and a smile trying to hide itself against her lips. The glass she had placed in front of him was quick to find its way into his hand from off the coaster and then he plucked her words right onto his. ❝ An off day? Never that. ❞ Brandon shook his head gently at the thought, his tongue trailing across the swell of his lip before pulling them into something a bit more mischievous. There might have been a counter between himself and her, but Brandon still managed to lean in with the limited space he had left as he held his gaze with hers. ❝ See, ‘s funny you mention all that since those lips of yours are tellin’ me one thing but your eyes are sayin’ somethin’ a lil different. ❞ 

Clinking her glass to the man’s Carrie smiled at his willingness to indulge her. Weddings were a fun place and they helped with meeting people and being more relaxed so that was the route she too had opted for. “Cheers.” she said taking a small sip from her flute before gracefully holding it below chest level yet carefully away from the satin material of her dress. “Are you a friend of the bride or the groom?” she asked. It almost seemed like a pick-up line to her now; everyone was asking each other that today, like Joey always asked people how they were doing.

THE CHAMPANGE THAT once lingered on Brandon’s tongue made the whiskey in his glass go down smooth, that first initial burn never fully registering as he swallowed without complaint. The switch over to something that didn’t constitute as pricy adult apple juice was needed, no questions asked. And while he might’ve just gotten started on the lowball in his hand, the thought of signaling for another had already crossed his mind by the time he took that first swig, the blonde next to him already playing with the expected wedding niceties. ❝ Both, inna way. ❞ Though the term ‘friend’ might have been a stretch, Brandon still indulged her as if he had known the lucky couple for years and let a saccharine smile touch his lips, ❝ And yourself? ❞ Just from the quick once over he could tell that she wasn’t a bridesmaid, the color of the dress that clung to her a far better shade than orange, but it wouldn’t have surprised him if she was a friend of the groom or bride since they were both proving to be more popular than B had accounted for. ❝ You team bride or groom? ❞

STARTER 💍  open to all!​​

LOCATION: Cressino Farm (reception area open bar)

Alessia had been looking forward to this day since the day she had met Julia. Standing in the venue, looking around at the crowd. The different kinds of people mingling amongst each other as she observed through the location. Her eyes finally setting on the bar and she strolled over quickly considering she was very much single. Weddings were nice but they were slightly painful for a single thirty-three year old woman. She put her clutch down on the bar, crossing her hands on top when the sudden smell lingered past her nose and she looked over at them. 

“You smell really good,” she said to them. A little forward but she couldn’t help it, she was like that. “Sometimes, I question people’s choices but you made a really good one.”

HE NEEDED A drink. Preferably something strong like amber liquid over ice since the champagne settling in his belly was doing nothing to cure the fact that he hadn’t spotted his date once within the last hour, something much like regret coursing through him and making him feel warm in his suit. It was an almost somber scene, and to anyone who knew him would have to look twice, Brandon, on the outskirts of a party instead of in the throng of it. He moved through a blur of bodies that passed him in flashes of tulle and satin, the shine black of suit, the sheen of silk tie, until he could feel his forearms pressing to the curved edge of the bar’s counter, the seat next to him soon to be occupied with his attention shifting instantly since he’s never once met a compliment he didn’t like.

❝ Yves Saint Laurent. ❞ French always made his words melt together, making them smooth around their edges even when dipped in a shaded southern twang. The cologne that radiated off of him mimicked scents of cedarwood, geranium, and lavender so he dipped his head and winked in gratitude, the man knew he smelled good despite playing at being humble. ❝ Thank you, sweetheart, that’s ‘bout the nicest thing I’ve heard all evenin’. ❞

It wasn’t easily bought. Although the Brandon she knew came off as reckless and inevitably careless, she’d long since seen through all of it to see that everything he did was almost as meticulous as her own choices. “You don’t know?” The doubt in her voice near palpable as she continued to sip on her champagne, the same brand of distrust she carried for him on any other day evident in darkened hues. “You are so full of shit, you know.” It fell as a statement more than anything and parted her lips on the breath of laughter that held no humor at all. For no particular reason, or at least none that struck her immediately, it bothered her that he held no apparent reasoning behind his choice to ask her here. Irked her in a way she didn’t exactly know what to do with as it itched it’s way across the palms of her hands. As he turned the entire thing around on her she balked, almost willing herself to shrug it off as if it wasn’t a stupid thing to question. However, it left her with little to say, teeth drawing back heavily on her lesser lip. “Like I wanted to stand around listening to you bitch and moan about being rejected every time you walked into the gym.” It wasn’t as if she could tell him that he offered her the perfect opportunity for the Vipers to find their way into the wedding since she functioned on the premise that very few understood where her allegiance lay - least of all Brandon - nor could she admit that she’d agreed to come with him before such a plan had been formed. “—- I need another drink, do you mind?” Though, she didn’t waste a moment before finishing her glass and handing the empty one to him, only to snatch up another from a passing tray and maneuvering herself beyond Brandon, towards the open air.

HE WAS REFUSING to give her the satisfaction that he did know he was full of shit, something in the back of his mind tugging at him to say something, anything, in rebuttal, only it was a common practice for him to deflect when confronted, especially when it came to Jack. So he steeled himself as she spoke to him, words sounding clipped as she talked like she was doing him a favor in attending at his side. Which he guessed in a way he hated to admit she was. Only he didn’t ask her here for whatever a vain reason she may have thought. He liked Jack, they were friends ― no, that’s not it, but something of the sort that made him feel prickly when she didn’t acknowledge him or turn his way when she talked. ❝ And I’m the one who’s full of shit? ❞  His grip on his champagne glass was making his knuckles turn white. If she wanted to reject him, she would. He was certain she’d get some sort of twisted satisfaction in crushing him in such an ego - dampening way that he wouldn’t have been the slightest surprised if she had. But she didn’t. And now she was turning from him, her own deflection almost matching his.

Before she could get completely around him, Brandon finished off his flute in one go and passed off the two empty ones elsewhere. That bubbly quick to mix with the whisky already settling in his stomach, making his whole body go warm as he followed her in stride. ❝ What has gotten into you? ❞ The words cut out from the side of his mouth, his attention forward as he went to open the front of his suit, exposing the tie he was ready to loosen due to nerves and tension. Unwilling to be led around, B cut himself in front of her, closing their walk short as he met her gaze. ❝ No, seriously, why do you keep brushin’ me off, J? Tell me why you even came ‘cos as much as I love mixed signals, this, ❞ He motioned between them. ❝ is gunna give me whiplash by the end of the night. ❞

where: reception area open bar

who: open to everyone !!

Working as a bartender had been something Maria had become accustomed to for as long as she could remember. Drifting from state to state she’d been countless bars where she’d served many different people. Working a wedding wasn’t something she ever saw herself doing, and an open bar at that, was more fast paced than she had anticipated. Moving to the beck and call of guests all the while being mindful of her attire; she was fairly impressed with herself. “Sorry,” she sighed turning to the last person left standing and waiting, “Okay, you wanted a gin and tonic right?” she guessed with a hopeful smile that her memory wasn’t failing her.

WORD AROUND THE grapevine was that a certain friend of his was working one of the bars at the wedding and that was enough to motivate Brandon to excuse himself from prior conversations with dull guests to go find her, interest always piquing when it came to Maria. One quick change in direction and sure enough, there she was. All raven hair and in a dress that hugged every inch of her just right as he found her moving with ease, clearing out the string of patrons throwing her orders. Those lips of his tugged upward before he could even reach the bar, forearms ready to set on the counter as he caught the tail of her apology while the crowd cleared out around him. ❝ Right, no, exactly. ❞ The words rolled out of him in friendly sarcasm, his closed lipped smile turning into something toothy, pearl white teeth coming into view before he corrected the order.  ❝ a whiskey neat is exactly what I wanted, thank you, Maria. ❞ Finished with his teasing, B leaned forward across the bar and felt himself relax like he always did when around her, slipping into a persona more fitting for the conversation, his eyes giving her a slow and appreciative once over.  ❝ You’re looking beautiful, as always. ❞

Location: reception area open bar Status: open

Carrie leaned against the bar watching Julia and Gabriel from a distance. It had been a beautiful ceremony, Julia was beautiful and Gabriel had that smitten and blessed look the bride deserved. Shifting a little in her seat, she turned her attention to the person near her and raised her glass. “Come on, I think it’s been a while since someone raised their glass to the happy couple.” Clicking her glass against theirs, she smiled. “To the bride and groom and beautiful days like this one.”

HE WAS THANKFUL to see that the bar he pulled up to happened to be one significantly less crowded than the one he just came from, sliding up to a spot more easily than he had expected and able to order a drink without being outshouted by the wedding party. Service quicker too, his drink a glass of something simple, amber and ice, being placed on a coaster moments after and shortly before his attention caught on to the woman sitting next to him. He caught sight of her lifted glass and raised his own, obliging to her toast as a show of good manners.  ❝ And many blessins to the happy couple for all the years to come, ❞ Brandon clinked his glass of whiskey against hers and then brought the edge of the glass straight up to his lips.  ❝ Salud!  ❞  

It was perhaps the only reason Jack might concede that attending with Brandon was something close to a good idea. Their quick separation at the tail end of the ceremony offered her the perfect opportunity to slip off towards the entrance tucked away at the western side of the farm house, somewhere between the sycamore trees. Golden hour had cast the world in shadows and she’d moved swiftly - disarming and disposing of the two guards meant to keep those without invitations out of the celebration. The dark fabric of her dress, much like her usual clothing choice, chosen almost purely to hide the slight splatter of blood left behind - though she still found herself patting herself off with the pocket square the first familiar viper offered her as he entered the property. By the time she’d returned to the thick of things, she’d almost forgotten about her date until….

His voice caught her a little off guard. The moment she took to compose herself as she met him, onyx hues taking in exactly what she knew Brandon Shapiro to be somehow made her all the more annoyed by her decision to agree to accompany him. “Here I am,” She stated a little blankly, as if she’d been here since they’d split up earlier. “Oh, I heavily considered it. In fact, I still might - the night is still young.” She cut sharply, taking the flute from his hands with something of a smile - a quiet thanks for the drink. “And I’m not nearly drunk enough to put up with you in a social manner just yet.” Lips found the edge of the flute, the dry liquid setting the back of her throat alight, Consider yourself missed. “Why did you ask me here, Brandon?” 

HE DIDN’T DOUBT it. In fact, the thought had crossed his mind at least twice throughout the ceremony in crystal clear clarity: Jack excusing herself right before wedding vows could be exchanged between the happy couple and then disappearing as quick as lighting, runaway bride style, making him feel anxious while he sat with her. Only that horror never happened. She stayed, for the entire thing, and he had convinced himself since that if she, the Jack Taylor he knew, could sit through two people confessing how much they loved each other, crowded by strangers, simply because he asked her off a whim, had him feeling confident she wouldn’t bail for the reception where there was at least free alcohol to put up with all of it ( and him ). But that feeling of confidence began to fade through him the moment her heard her question, his shoulders going up quickly into a shrug more defensively than he would have liked. ❝ I dunno, Jack. ❞ And he didn’t, he was still trying to wrap his head around it himself, denying whatever real answer his mind was trying to shove through him at the moment. That was not a rabbit hole he felt like going into before they could even finish a drink together. So he found himself shrugging again, only this time he caught himself catching her by the eyes. ❝ Why’d you say yes, ❞ Brows raised. ❝ - if you didn’t want to be here? ❞ 

JACK TAYLOR was beautiful, and for some odd reason, Brandon was having a hard time wrapping his head around it. Had he known she was going to take his offer to the wedding seriously after their full back and forth argument conversation on it then maybe he would have been more prepared to see her dressed to the nines upon arrival in full length evergreen and not having a difficult time finding the words to speak whenever she came around, feeling like the damn wind was getting knocked out of him and throwing him off his usual game. Though by now, with the ceremony having being over for at least an hour, the reception currently thick with guests, B had spent enough away from his date that he was already a drink and a half in, trying to make up for lost time by the time he spotted her again peeking through the crowd. The whiskey on his tongue was making him feel good. Whatever nerves he was sporting earlier was beginning to fade as the flow of drinks brought him back to his usual forged golden boy demeanor. 

❝ There you are, ❞  A subtle way to say that he had been looking for her without having to actually say it. He had plucked two crisp champagne flutes off the nearest cater waiter’s tray the closer he got to Jack across the floor, one extending out to her as the gap between them began to close. ❝ thought you bailed on me for a sec. Consider yourself missed. ❞