lionhearted.

"I'm not going to tell you not to." An immediate response void of any thought. Except for that one about how she wanted to be the favourite relative that Hanna's kids had - a point she'd make known she'd convinced the purchase of vehicles. Still, their wellbeing, neither her cousins, would be fixed with such a gift. At least, not in the long run. "What I can tell you is that the car doesn't fix the off feeling." Which Gigi could take a shot in the fucking dark and comprehend that Hanna already knew that. "Just takes time."

Letting out a slow, frustrated huff of a breath through her nose, Hanna leaned back in her seat with a slight frown tugging the corners of her lips downwards. She knew Gianna was right, agreeing with her ex-husband and getting the boys their own cars wouldn't fix the distrust that the Pantheon releasing her secret had threaded through her usually stable family life. Her husband understood, of course he did it wasn't his daughter she'd secretly carried and given to a beautiful family, but it was the boys' half sister and the news of her existence had shaken them more than they'd wanted to admit. "Remember when they were toddlers and all I had to do was give them ice cream and kisses and they'd love me?" The question was asked with an air of both nostalgia and sadness. "I miss those days."

character: Hanna Rossi @oflicnhearts

Hanna's legal aid's birthday was coming up and while this was an errand she'd usually send the law student on themselves, even she wasn't heartless enough to send them to find their own gift. They'd been talking about the first edition of a book who's title she'd already forgotten and luckily had stored safely in her notes app, something about its significance to their childhood, and Hanna thought it'd make the most sense as a gift. Something they couldn't get for themselves but wanted— that was what birthdays were for after all, weren't they? But as she perused the shelves, she found her attention turned away from her task at hand and looking at the woman who'd spoken. "Do you work here?" She asked with slightly pinched brows, recognizing Rachel but not putting her with the store in particular.

       despite  the  façade  of  a  dealership  cash  wasn't  perusing  the  showroom  for  the  actual  purpose  of  buying  a  car.  he  couldn't  help  himself  though  and  had  to  look  over  the  beautiful  machines  regardless  while  he  waited.  truthfully  he'd  been  so  focused  on  the  ferrari  and  circling  it  he  hadn't  realized  he'd  stationed  himself  right  beside  an  actual  shopper.  when  her  question  voiced  between  the  two  of  them  cash's  lips  curved  north  at  one  side,  finding  some  amusement  in  the  assumption.  the  sales  agents  here  wore  designer  suits,  not  the  tshirt  and  jeans  combo  he  had  on.  certainly  not  a  backwards  cap.  maybe  she  only  saw  a  figure  or  felt  a  presence.

His answer caused her nose to scrunch, a grimace nearly crossing her features before she got her expression under control and her face was back to the passive indifference and slightly piqued curiosity she'd had it at before. "I'd much rather it be the car." She muttered, mostly to herself, arms coming up to cross over her chest as she continued to stare the vehicle down. She was silent for a brief moment before her gaze turned away from the classically red vehicle in front of them and towards the man she'd roped into her car inspections (because she certainly wasn't shopping, at least not yet). "Oh, the Ferrari isn't for my boys." She said with a smirk— he didn't need to know she couldn't drive— though the expression quickly morphed to one of disdain at his next sentence. "If I wanted a Subaru I'd be at a Subaru dealership, wouldn't I?" Her tone was a bit more terse than she'd like and she'd had to clear her throat to right herself. It wasn't his fault her twins were growing up and she was having a quiet existential crisis about it.

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬. “i…max, what?” kennedy followed her line of sight across the street, squinting a little like that might somehow clarify the situation. she rubbed a hand over the back of her neck. “i’m sorry,” she said slowly, eyes still on the alley, “the artist guy or the fetish guy?” her gaze flicked back to max, brows lifting in tired disbelief. of course those were apparently the two options. “i have so many questions and even more fucking concerns.” she shook her head before adding, “you actually witnessed a girl’s butt plug fall out?” she didn’t know where to start with that one. “i hate this city sometimes.” she tilted her head slightly toward the carpet. “did you check if he’s actually dead?” that was probably more her job, but she was very much off the clock.

Max's body leaned easily against the brick exterior behind her, amused smirk on her features at the look on Kennedy's face and the confusion in her voice. "Wait, you're telling me you've never heard of Kevin and Georgio?" She asked on an exhale of smoke, head turned away from the other woman so as to not blow any in her direction. "You been living under a rock, Ken?" She teased, though a quiet snort of laughter left her lips at the continued line of questioning. "Yeah, it was pink with a little jewel on the end." She recounted, inhaling another drag from her cigarette. "But it wasn't the weirdest thing I've ever seen fall out of someone." Shrugging her shoulders, she flicked a bit of ass down onto the ground, her attention turning away from her friend towards the man they were speaking of. "Nah, don't have to. You can see him moving sometimes if you squint. He's exactly where he wants to be."

It wasn't until his sister hit the deck that he realised just how much he'd been pushing it, apology coming through his own heavy breathing as he fought for his breath back. "Shit, sorry Max." Hands rested on the top of his head, knowing there was only so much lying he could do to her when their relationship had been built on trust. "Just work." Water bottle was pulled out, handing it to her before taking a drink himself. "Wasn't really satisfied with the way we closed the ADA and the Councilman's cases." An understatement but also as close to the truth as he could get. It wasn't a lack of trust in his sister, more he didn't want to pull her into whatever he'd gotten himself sucked into. That and the more people who knew the more of a liability it was, something he wasn't prepared to create when it wasn't just his future at stake.

Laying back and allowing the concrete to help cool her overheated body, Max's eyes closed momentarily as she focused on getting her breathing back under control. She was in good shape, great shape, even, but their pace today had done her in. It seemed like they weren't running just for the endorphins like they usually did— no, today they were running from something and Max didn't know what.

"Did this happen near The Box, by any chance?" Gianna stood beside her, her own cigarette burning low between two fingers, gaze tracking across the street to the carpet situation in question. "No, no, Kevin's the fetish one. He's a fucking freak. One of my bosses worked on a case after a raid at a fetish club on Lex and allegedly, he was banned from there. You know he's like a trust fund baby, right?" She flicked ash to the ground, settled her weight to one hip. "Also, think I saw Georgio set up camp last Tuesday near the park," a small shrug, "process of elimination."

For a moment, Max was silent, going over her memories in her mind before she nodded. "It did, why? Were you the girl with the butt plug?" She mused, though she knew her old friend was in fact not the woman she'd seen lose more than just her dignity that day. But as soon as the teasing words left her lips, Max's head was shaking adamantly. "No, Kevin's the one who's been doing this shit longer than we've been alive. He's the performance artist." The words were said with a bite that conveyed just how much she didn't believe the things the man had been saying for decades now. "Georgio is the guy with the fetish. He like, goes to sex clubs and stuff." For a brief moment Max once again had to pause to think, to ensure that she wasn't arguing for nothing, but when her mind stayed solidly on the words she'd said she continued. "Why were they raiding a fetish club? I know I work for 'em but the cops need to mind their own business sometimes."

CLOSED FOR: @oflicnhearts (Blair Maddox-Bakari)

Turning from the conversation she was having with a regular and quickly and easily excusing herself, Blair's smile was warm and wide as she peered up at Emil, a polite nod of her own directed at him. "Mister del Castillo, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." Giving the familiar customer's a hand a quick squeeze as a final, silent, goodbye, Blair motioned for Emil to follow her as she turned. "Please, come with me. It's a little loud for a meeting in here and I'd hate to lose my voice before Coachella."

"You look like her when you pull that face." Almost scary, really, how she managed to take on her mannerisms. Usually he liked the reminders that they were a family but now he found the gesture too needling, contrary to what he wanted which was just to stew for a few minutes and get back to it. "Just wound up." He shrugged, admitting it didn't lessen the feeling. It wasn't the kind of burden she could share with him, no words would take the edge off. Something he tried to make clear with his next words, bringing up how it always felt like they were a losing battle. "Seems inevitable something will go wrong but we're just waiting for it to happen." And that was the frustration, his inability to do anything to change it.

"Funny, because I was just coming to show you I actually came to one of these things of my own free will. Wasn't looking to interrogate you, Con." Had she been worried about him lately? Yes. But had she come over to pester him about it while they were stuck on some island in a glass house that looked like it could be taken down by one good boulder with momentum? No. Not this time. So him automatically thinking she had come with those intention had her hackles raised. "Obviously." She deadpanned, though there was a twist in her gut where she knew that he was keeping something from her— something that was clearly weighing on him. However, she knew she'd be a hypocrite if she pushed, if she tried to guilt him into talking to her, because she had secrets of her own she hoped he never found out. Still, it didn't quash the worry churning around inside her.

If there was anything Chanel had learned about navigating a crowd, it was that the nice guy always finished last. If you stood around and waited for people to clear, you were never going to get the bartender's attention. And if you were at a concert and didn't elbow your way to the barricade, you were going to get stuck behind a 6'3" tall man with his girlfriend on his shoulders.

Max wouldn't hit Chanel, she knew that, but the simmering rage beneath her skin had her wanting to act on instinct rather than taking time to think. Luckily, she'd had enough practice in self control to trust herself not to react— instead, she merely tensed for a moment as Chanel's hand found her own, before she forced her body to relax and follow behind the other woman. But not without sending a glare that probably could have killed had any of the offending woman bothered to notice her.

closed starter with: oisin and whoever <3 (@oflicnhearts) setting: the ball, at the bar

Once again, Max found herself in the line for the bar— she'd never taken to champagne, it being a drink she'd rather avoid in favor of things like tequila or a seltzer. Her alcohol taste usually consisted of any tequila and whatever she could find that sounded good at the local corner store— she was still getting used to these fancy parties and the alcohol, food, and company that came with them. However, she'd had enough alcohol and smoke breaks at this point to stay calm in the crowd, the unfamiliar voice pulled her out of her head. "I don't know about that, the wind's been picking up... I don't know shit about boats but I've heard that they don't do great in wind and choppy seas. Unfortunately, the overworked bartenders here might actually be our best option."