O L E A N D E R

Youngest of the Perez family - the “i’m tough bc i had two older brothers that choke slammed me into the couch twice a day” kind of youngest

Always been a little bit of a loose canon wild child but has never really been in trouble for anything she’s done so she doesn’t particularly believe she’s as reckless as she can be

Social butterfly syndrome - had friends in every kind of clique in school, but always had her key players (Asher, Maddy & Nell) over everything else.

While Tommy certainly never wanted for either of his siblings to venture down a similar path to himself, the silver linings had always clung to the notion that neither were in quite as deep. Brielle started as a dealer before moving to hacker, which kept her out of the worst bits more often than not, and Antonio was a low level soldier until he seemingly wound up in the wrong place at the wrong time. But the eldest? He’d been in the trenches, lived amongst the worst that humanity had to offer, buried and dumped the bodies of friends, enemies, witnesses. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” The greatest lesson that he painfully learned throughout nearly twenty years of service to this world? Expiration dates aren’t a matter of how, but when. While that didn’t soothe the agony of loss, it stifled the surprise to some degree. “Then maybe you should take a look in the mirror before you try and dish out the same.” His jaw works itself over despite the juvenile back and forth between them, too irritated with the entire situation tonight to quietly relish in the echo of their childhood disagreements. She could hate him and instill arm’s length distance for the rest of her life if necessary, Tommy had certainly done much of the same out of protection rather than anger, but intention hardly negated impact. “I grew up.” Because there hadn’t been any other choice. Grow up, move on, keep it together. Maybe Brielle didn’t mean those words as a threat, but they’re incensing enough to activate child locks on the passenger door as he pulls right off the road. “What d’you really think is gonna happen when you figure it out? Hm?” The anger behind his voice is eerily composed, almost quiet in the way it simmers below the surface. “You don’t know this business well enough to run your fucking mouth like that. Being cocky and reckless is what lands you at the bottom of the river or in a back alley like Tony.” Far harsher than needed, but it’s a point that must be made as his expression softens the tiniest amount. “This doesn’t end the way you think it does, Brielle. And I won’t bury another member of this family. Are we clear?”

&.

BROWN EYES IMMEDIATELY are drawn to tiny pixelated numbers on her phone, the stark white 10:30 flashing across her screen and looking up at Nell almost mockingly until she shook her head and rolled her eyes because she hadn’t realized just how early it was until mentioned. Which made her feel even worse, if that was even possible, and it’s clear in the way she stuffed the damn thing back into her pocket that she was feeling less than spectacular about it. “Yeah, well, trying to catch a Lyft suck on New Years, so..” Shoulders tighten up as she raised them into a shrug. This was not the conversation she wanted to be having right now and it was proving to be more difficult than she had anticipated now that she was trying to avoid every memory that came to mind when brought with thoughts on how they spent this holiday prior. Flickers of vivid thoughts, memories, and feelings, all of it trying to zoom by like a busy highway and instead of latching on, she pushed them down and replaced them with new ones of Bree on the arm of some guy because she knew that if she didn’t then she would continue to stay and be miserable all because she asked. “No, B, I’m fine.” Nell shook her head to insert some sincerity to her lie but quickly stopped in tracks the closer she made it to one of the exits. “I don’t want to drink, or dance, or find pothead ass Riv.” Her gaze flicked from Bree back to the ballroom like she was ready to shoot daggers at it. “And I definitelyyy don’t feel like being ditched because you want to play tonsil hockey with your boyfriend at midnight.”

What might have never bothered her before certainly did now. It wasn’t like they did everything together, but even still, it wasn’t uncommon for one or the other to dip out early, save face and turn in instead of doing something they simply weren’t feeling - but it never happened like this. It never felt like ice crawling up against her spine and hardening. It felt like she couldn’t move, like every word Nell spoke to her now nailed Brielle in place a little more. “Yeah but..--” Of course it sucked on new years, but the plan was that they’d all throw themselves into one later and split the bill in the value of cheeseburgers and shakes later. It was tradition - one that came with some of the best memories that Brielle had of this city without her brothers. Whatever kind of lie Nell thought she could get away with wasn’t working as well as she might have hoped. Everything felt off. “Nell, I told you that he’d be coming, we talked about this last week and you said you were cool with it?” Confusion muddles dark hues and Brielle casts such uncertainty across the room to where Atticus is and back again before she sighs heavily. “That’s fine, just give me a couple of minutes and I’ll come with you.” Not that it was at all conductive to what lay ahead for Brielle. Knowing that tonight was about far more than the momentary countdown and everything that she’d been instructed and intended to pull off the second it ended. Proving herself, to Dilara, Fletcher.. her brother, that she could handle this - that she was one of them and deserved to be noticed by then was what she’d been working towards for weeks now but.. “We can just go to your place and veg out and watch horror flicks or something. It’s just another day, right?”

Asher slipped out the door to the roof top, feeling the breeze of the cold crisp New Years Eve air. An exhale left his lips as he raised his hand up towards the tie around his neck, pulling on it slightly to relieve some of the tightness in his throat. He lifted his eyes up towards the voice as a smirk come along his features, reaching into the inside pocket of his dress jacket to pull out his pack of smokes. “Can we promise to keep this between us?” He asked, knowing he would be busted the moment he went inside and smelled like cigarettes. He plucked a stick out from the pack and placed it between his lips. “Why aren’t you inside with Mr. Loverboy?” He asked, lighting the end of the stick.

“That all depends,” she muses easily, no longer concerned by who might have caught her up here. If anything, Brielle was glad to see that it was Asher - it felt like it’d been far too long since they’d spent any time together since Maddie had come home. “What, other than your dazzling company, do I get out of it?” Leaning back against the concrete, Brielle no longer sought to hide the contraband, bringing it right back to her lips to inhale. “Mr Loverboy? Is that an official title or...?” Despite it, she smiled at the thought of Atticus, wondering where he’d wandered off to. “Needed some air, what about you?”

Atticus places a hand on her hip, pulling her closer to him. This stuff isn’t exactly something he’s good at and Violet Marino is a prime example of it. “You know what you’re gettin’ into, right?” It’s a soft confession. She knows him as a friend, being a friend is much easier for him than being a boyfriend because there will always be something he can’t tell her or won’t. He slips his other hand onto her arm, nodding a little at her words about the both of them talking about being all in. “Your brother is not going to ya know… cut off not so little Atticus.” He tilt his head down a little to gesture below. “Because I kind of like having him attached to me.”

While it isn’t something she was born into, life with her brothers had taught her that some things simply couldn’t be spoken about - it was easier to let secrets lie, and neither of them undertook the kind of responsibility that Atticus did as an assassin. She’d yet to even mention anything to him about her last conversation with Fletcher, hadn’t brought up that maybe.. maybe she’d want to walk down the same path one day. Something about his question twists the organ tightly in her chest, for all the things that surprised her most about Atticus, how unbelievably vulnerable he could be was one she’d never forget. “I know what I’m getting into,” her hand rises, cupping gently at the edge of his jaw, “I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t.” Perhaps, she wouldn’t be here at all, if it weren’t for all that she was tasked with. Lips purse and she catches her lesser lip between her teeth, mulling the sound of her laugh as she follows his gaze, “Awww, well..” A sharp inhale and doe hues turn back up to him, “I guess that depends on what I end up telling him about you, doesn’t it?”

closed.

new years eve╱somewhere in the hellhole  @brielleperez​

FOR A NIGHT that was meant to shine as it guided those into a new year, Nell certainly felt dull being trapped in a room with people who wouldn’t bother taking a second look in her direction as they sipped on drinks made from liquor so expensive she didn’t even want to know the price. She really didn’t need this type of overpriced prissy bullshit, so she settled for a seat in the furthest corner of the room at the emptiest table in the back and split her time playing Candy Crush and looking out for friendly faces that she knew and wouldn’t have minded talking to. Only it felt as if just about everyone in that small pod came with someone and from the moment she saw two faces in particular join the festivities arm and arm, the smile she had adorned for the sake of the holiday shrank until it was as small as she felt.  Now she really wanted to leave. Go home, eat some pizza. Anything that meant getting out the hell of here before that damn clock hit midnight.

And she would have gotten away with it too if she hadn’t run into the exact person she was purposely trying to avoid, the red flash of Brielle’s costume making her stomach flip for something other than annoyance. “Before you say anything,” Her hands are up almost defensively, breezing past Bree like she hadn’t just been waiting for her all night. “My Lyft’s coming in like, fifteen minutes.” It actually wasn’t, she hadn’t even called it, but details, details. “I’m blowing this popsicle stand. This shit is boring and I’m tired.” 

Somewhere between the nerves and the excitement of the night, Brielle had unknowingly realized that she’d never really made it beyond a certain crowd of people. Syndicate members congregating to celebrate the coming of a new year - it was tacky, and covered in three layers of cheese but it wasn’t unlike the ways she’d celebrated before, only with an additional amount of glitter and champagne instead of ash, dirt and a cheap bottle swinging between her fingers. Remembering where she promised to meet Nell, the small brunette shoved her way unapologetically through the crowd until she spotted the other. Immediately, she felt nerves slip away - it was one thing that never existed with Nell around and the only other people that came close to bringing her to such a calm standpoint were likely arm in arm somewhere else. Not that she minded at all, Asher and Maddie was something that Brielle had seen coming years ago, but it was kind of nice to know that she didn’t have to be some kind of third wheel at all. Pausing, only to tell Atticus that she’d find him in a short while, Brielle parted ways and moved to reach out for the chair beside Nell..

Only, apparently this wasn’t where they were going to stay, and almost immediately, Brielle opened her mouth to suggest more drinks - where had hers gone? “Wait.. -- what?” It drew her to an immediate stop, “Lyft? You’re leaving?” That.. wasn’t at all what she’d expected. “But it’s only like, ten thirty? What do you mean?” It sunk, heavy in her chest and something about the way Nell spoke swelled a knot of panic into her throat instead. “We haven’t spent a new years apart in.. forever. If you’re bored we can get a few more drinks, dance a bit? Maybe see if we can find Riven and swindle his ass outta some cash.. You can’t just, leave..”

BRIELLE PEREZ:

“Why should I?” An odd sentiment, when one considered the fact that it wasn’t exactly within the realms of familial closeness for a sibling not to know, but Brielle had felt little reason to reach out to Tommy. Which, in truth, meant that she’d actually mentally tortured herself over the whole idea of him being back in Chicago after leaving so long ago. Over the idea that maybe he actually gave a shit. All thoughts led back to the same thing though - fuck him, he was never here. Steadfast in her thought process, it felt strange that her expression of interest about her brothers wellbeing was met with a second hand admission of Tommy’s anger. Like the rest of us. Of that, she could perpetually agree. Anger simmered beneath the surface of her own chaotic energy like a firelight, just barely lifting the depth of night. “Potential? You mean you just.. know, who’s going to be a good fit?” Wrapping her head around it all wasn’t as easy as scouring through lines of code or staining skin with a needle, but she was anything if not determined. “Okay but.. how do you just go from being a soldier to… - straight assassins’ creed ezio?” It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen so many of the syndicate go down such a path, but it was one thing to be a shit-kicker and do the dirty work, and another entirely to become a trained killer. “Oh,” she sighed, “well that’s good, I fucking suck at tests.” Making light work of the topic at hand, Brielle lent to press her shoulder into the cold brick nearby, alleviating some of the pressure from her leg. “That depends. How much of this are you going to tell Tommy?” She wasn’t so far detached from her brother that she didn’t know how close they were. “Maybe I do. I’m still trying to figure out who I’m meant to be noticed by. All I know is that there’s only so much I can figure out from behind a monitor listening in, if I’m ever going to figure out what happened to Tony then.. Maybe being noticed might help.”

…

“Touché. Every family has their dysfunctions.” He mused idly. Fletcher had paid little attention to the middle Perez and that had been his downfall. For when the penny finally dropped and it came to light that he was feeding intelligence to the enemy. The decision was easy, so too were his orders to make it look like an accident. Which perhaps would have played out in everyone’s favor had his siblings not cared like so many before him, his youngest sister was all too inquisitive and for that reason the assassin had made the executive decision to keep her on his radar. “Something like that, yes.“ And while it wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t exactly the whole truth either. Nevertheless the last thing either likely desired was to launch into a full blown discussion around the politics of how the Syndicate picked out their killers. It took a certain kind of person to be able to carry out such a task, most were twisted in their own way whether it be by experiences or history, but in some way they were all tied together. All with their own methods of seeing the job through and being able to come out the other side and live with their actions.

 “There’s a process to it much alike everything else in this world. It’s complex, difficult and many fail along the way.” He knew because he nearly had in his earlier years and had it not been for a very stern talk from his uncle that all but confirmed he didn’t just want the purpose that came with being an assassin, he needed it. If not to channel his own grief and anger, but to eventually seek revenge for her parents deaths. It was a fire that wasn’t entirely common and yet there was a flicker of such thing behind the hazel hues of the woman before him. “Well, that depends. Work and play are two very different things — two sides of a life that are better left unmixed.” Fletcher returned, somewhat curious as to how much she dared want to tell her brother. “If I were you, I wouldn’t so much as worry about being noticed. Because this conversation all but confirms it.” He  commented, before hauling himself to his feet as he plucked a pen from the boardroom table before approaching the brunette. Meeting her gaze he tentatively took her wrist in one hand, before scrawling out a number across the flesh of her inner arm. “Speaking from experience, sometimes the truth is worse than the unknown.” He added, before discarding of the pen as he moved to the door. “If taking the next step is what you decide you want, give that number a call. Until then, I’ll see you around short stack.” And with that the head assassin took his leave.

“Get in the car.” The request falls softer this time, coaxing rather than commanding. Because a guilt does linger there, that if Tommy hadn’t been off securing his own piece of the Syndicate empire then perhaps he might have been able to keep Antonio’s nose clean. Or at least talk him out of stepping into whatever mess left their middle sibling with a bullet to the head. Hallmarks of his own best friend’s work, though he hadn’t yet pieced that much together in the several years since. “It’s always mattered,” the eldest Perez finally addresses her from the driver’s seat as both doors slam shut to leave them in hollowed silence. “And he’s been gone a long time.” The engine hums to life as they pull out of the parking lot, whizzing down Chicago’s streets beneath a flurry of traffic lights. “Everything probably feels black and white to you,” here versus not equates to a certain level of concern from his end apparently, “but once you’re deep in this business, you have to put yourself aside for the work.” The only way out is to move up, ironically enough. Amass enough resources and money to quietly disappear if a person can manage a life under the radar. “Didn’t say I like the outcome, just means that’s what it is.”

location: grand ballroom time: 10:14 pm status: open

He’s never been in a ballroom before, he realises, as he makes his way around the room. The ceiling is much higher than anything he’s ever experienced before, and the walls look fancy, if walls can look fancy. There’s a strange atmosphere that makes him carry himself differently. He straightens his back, puffs his chest out a bit, and looks around as he makes his way towards the bar. With drink in hand, he watches the dancefloor, noting without much interest as people mill around. A few come and go from the bar, but he doesn’t pay them much attention, until there’s someone standing rather close and their outfit causes him to double take and comment, “Wow, where does someone get a costume like that? Amazing. That’s commitment to the theme.” 

Watching the clock was beginning to annoy her more than anything. The countdown she cared absolutely little for, but what came with it and the distinct instructions she was given ran through her head a mile a minute. Though she knew what she was doing and had little doubt about her skill set, part of her was simply worried that she might forget something important. The jammers sat neatly within the seams of her clutch and even now, as it sat on the concrete pillar of the rooftop feet away from her, she felt the weight of it all. The smoke she’d held within her lungs settled gently, seeping from between her lips, as footsteps approached, the joint caught between her fingertips now hidden by the palm of her hand, “ --- Guess I’m busted,” her nonchalant tone hinting that she couldn’t have cared less. 

Atticus glanced over in her direction when she leaned in to press a kiss against his shoulders. Oddly, the display of affection was both welcomed yet something he wanted to keep a secret. All he knew was the look Fletcher would give him the second the two of them walked through the double doors hand in hand. How do you date a woman after you played a hand in his death? He knew what he felt towards Brielle was confusing and dangerous especially since she was not the only person he held a torch for. He cleared his throat as he stopped in his tracks, glancing towards the doors before looking back at her. “Are we doing this? Like… Really doing this?”

How quickly he stopped pulled her arm taut and stepping back from the first few steps, Brielle casts hues up at the extravagance of the building before her and feels something shifting uncomfortably within her stomach. Nerves. For everything that should take place tonight - everything that she could fuck up. Yet, his question struck her as one that encompassed everything she found herself so unsure of lately. Due hues flicker between him and the cacophony spilling from the doors, “Yeah.. I think we are.” She states softly, drawing herself back towards him enough to look closely at his features, “We said all in, right?”

location: NYE event, hallway somewhere

status: open to all

“Well shit, I thought this party was supposed to be fun–.” Fletcher drawled, tone one of heavy sarcasm despite the amusement that danced across his face. If anything he would have settled for spending the evening at a rundown dive bar drinking whatever was on offer before seeing the new year in with a small inconspicuous bar brawl. Nevertheless, with both Samantha and Grace deciding they would be attending the pretentious show of wealth, Fletcher begrudgingly decided to follow. “—but by the look of your face, one would think someone had just taken a massive shit on your shoe. What’s up, Buttercup?”

THE NYE PARTY December 31st w/ @brielleperez​

Atticus lifted his eyes up to look at the entrance of the hotel. Usually, dressing up like this was not something he did but he thought it would be best to come to something after what happened at the Halloween event. He slipped his hand into Brielle’s as she walked along side of him, turning his head to look over at her. “Alright, some ground rules before we walk in there.” He mused. A soft grin coming along his features as he raised their intertwined hands up. “I am sticking by your side tonight because the last thing we need is for you to get caught in the elevator that spontaneously lights on fire. I will stay by your side because there are some questionable characters probably attending this party and the last thing I want is for you.” Or Ezra. “To get hurt. You’ll have to share me with Ezra since I want to make sure she’s okay after…”  He knew he didn’t need to get into the dark details of what had happened to their friend. “Sound good?”

There was still so much about this that she simply wasn’t used to. When she’d confronted Atticus one night in the studio, she hadn’t really expected a question of what is this, to turn into their shot at being something more. Not that she was anything other than elated about the choice they’d made - but as it stood, the feeling of his hand entwining with hers sent her stomach hurtling into a twisting dive. “Ground rules? Uh oh, here we go.” Brielle sought to make light of it; maybe he felt as uncertain about going into this party as she did - it wasn’t as though her record was fairing all that well. When Dilara had specifically asked for her, the urge to refuse had surged through her, but it was a chance to prove herself, and now knowing that Atticus had little intention of leaving her on her own, it seemed a little easier to swallow. Her hand in his, Brielle pulled them back down between them, leaning in to press a kiss against his shoulder, “I’d expect nothing less than any of that, and you’re not the only one watching out for Ez. So, it’s a deal.” 

A fob in his jacket pocket unlocks the car once they approach its position beyond the hospital doors, slotted in between a Nissan and the curb as it awaits two passengers rather than the usual one. Tommy watches in silent regard as his sister marches ahead as best she can through her injuries, half-hoping she might tire herself out enough to actually cooperate for once. A fool’s dream because he knows how vindication and a willingness to spit metaphorical blood rather than standing down runs in their family. Sometimes literal blood too. “Just get in the car, Brielle.” It’s not a negotiation, that much is clear from his tone as he effortlessly pries open the passenger door and stands with both arms crossed over its framework.