my bad habits

Location: The garage

Send me  ♣ for a drunk text

[Text]: the fuck  [Text]: maddy wherea s my wallet

Send me ↕ for a scared/worried text

[Text]: Somebody will be coming by the garage in the next twenty minutes. [Text]: I need you to leave. Now.

Send me !! for a threatening text

[Text]: That wasn’t a request.

Send me ?? for a strange/vague text

[Text]: Why are you actually here Maddison?

Send me ☺ for a loving/affectionate text

[Text]: Be safe. I’m not bailing your ass outta jail. [Text]: Text me when you’re home. [Text]: Please.

Send me !! for a threatening text

[Text]: Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again.

Send me ?? for a strange/vague text

[Text]: Anything you need to tell me?

Send me ► for a text not meant for you

[Text]: Aren’t you supposed to be the one of us with medical knowledge? [Text]: Sorry, meant for Brandon.

Send me ↕ for a scared/worried text

Send me  ♣ for a drunk text

[Text]: i smile [Text]: youre just not funny  [Text]: :) [Text]: see

Send me ?? for a strange/vague text

[Text]: You hungry?

Send me ► for a text not meant for you

Send me ► for a text not meant for you

&.

Allie’s gaze drifted as he spoke but she still kept a close ear to his words because her options were slim now that she didn’t have the comfort of Sam’s voice in her ear. “Not really in a position to be picky am I?” Better him than the group of men huddled around the pool table while they took shit bets with each other, right? One look from a man with a lopsided grin was all she needed to shift back in her seat. Her hand went to grab a napkin from the dispenser in front them to busy herself an effort to appear more occupied, less inviting before any ideas could form over on that end. That was about the last thing her night needed in this ongoing series of unfortunate events. “It was a joke.” She was directing herself to the man at her side as if to say, lighten up. He didn’t look nor sound offended, and if the tone of his voice was any indication of how he truly felt then she’d bet that he didn’t even care, so she returned her tone with something that could match his, the words lacking their usual luster enough to not be taken seriously. “Don’t tell me I’ve hurt your feelings. I know you’ve got thicker skin than that.”

+

Considering the generally dim and unwelcoming atmosphere around them, Tommy couldn’t rightfully disagree with that assertion. “Guess not.” The dive wasn’t built for shallow, mindless conversation and quite often boasted itself as a place where fists flew and the nameless took home the faceless. Not the sort of upscale joint she was no doubt accustomed to, but it got the job done well enough whenever the dark haired man thought to breeze through with the other two musketeers. “Was it? I’ll remember to laugh next time.” Tipping back his own shot, lips rolled against the burn before her next statement coaxed out a quiet chuckle that probably resounded more like a cough. “Consider me gutted,” he offered with empty sarcasm before half-canting features in her direction. “And how d’you know that?” Though just as they met her own, dark hues flickered beyond to gauge the movements of some Bratva soldiers loitering by the pool table. A familiar trio of idiots who never quite learned their lesson. One hadn’t removed his gaze from the back of her head and that was enough to spell trouble, even before the other man sensed Tommy’s gaze. Within seconds it seemed all three became aware of a Syndicate presence that managed to stay relatively unnoticed until now. “That guy’s been watchin’ your every move since you walked in. If you don’t know him, I’d suggest moving to my other side.”

x

Perhaps one of the strongest aspects of the Syndicate was its Heads. The Assassin- cold blooded and hot headed, Fletcher’s gun never missed. The Arms Dealer- icy like a blizzard, just as deadly if you got stuck in his storm. And the Drug Producer- a hellhound with no regard for morals or code. Under the Ozdemirs watch, the three men became the most unexpected well oiled machine. It was exactly why Adrian found himself face to face with Tommy Perez, his lucky catch becoming a problem for the both of them to solve. “Good morning beautiful, don’t act like you weren’t excited to see my name pop up on your phone.” The blond smirked. “You remember when the books said we were missing stock- the makarovs, 9mm lugers, about five pounds of product?” A hand unlatched the trunk of his charger, the unmistakable copper blood smell filling the space. “Pied piper caught the rat.” Adrian nodded as he gestured to the man-a former prospect- wrapped in plastic wrap. If there was one thing that he took seriously, it was business. In the Syndicate, there weren’t second chances after being crossed- the same followed through for the Kaminski family. “He thought that if he waited a week to sell, he’d be in the clear… until the dumb ass sold our shit back to our contacts.”

+

“Nausea, excitement, guess they’re practically synonymous now.” The words are spoken in jest, even if his expression doesn’t outwardly reveal as much. Adrian’s rundown of their little inventory issue dragged out the Arms Dealer’s patience an inch further as he listened with genuine interest. Despite no longer being in the running for leadership and irresponsible in just about every other aspect, the eldest Özdemir (and probably his accountant) kept meticulous books on Syndicate revenue and product. Gaps rarely went unnoticed. “Look at you finally earning your keep,” he commented as pitch black hues dragged along the vaguely human shape awaiting them. “Fuckin’ prospects.” As a rule of thumb, it did one good to actually learn the ins and outs of a business before attempting to fuck them over. His head shook in mild disbelief before gesturing for his blonde companion to stand ready to hoist the opposing end. “We get it all back or was this a warning?” 

It wasn’t said accusatorially but Melinda looked down all the same, gaze falling where her fingers were absentmindedly tracing against her palm. “Not really,” she answered truthfully with a bit of a shrug. Being someone’s date to this kind of event was daunting enough let alone having to meet his friends. Mel’s confidence soared in most aspects outside of social ones, she’d get to into her thoughts about saying the wrong thing and it made for an awkward exchange at best. “What look?” she feigned innocence as she turned around, letting her back lean against the coolness of the ledge and the rest of the rooftop coming into view. “You at least get a dance or two in with that suit?” she stated as her own form of a joke already doubting the spotlight cast on the dance floor would be to his liking. 

Location: Tommy’s auto shop, around 4am

&.

“— Yeah, dude blew a tire and dropped me off somewhere deep downtown.” Not like she wanted to be recounting the events that lead her here, but her Lyft driver breaking down a half an hour before she’s supposed to meet Sam for their usual drinks and gossip was throwing her schedule into a loop. And on top of that, it was raining, a light pitter-patter of a drizzle but enough to send Allie scurrying through the first door she could find, her phone close to her ear once she realized where she was. “Correction. Dive bar.” The purse meant to compliment her outfit hit the hard surface of a counter that looked sticky with beer and she shoved herself into an uncomfortable seat, still rambling to Sam on the other end. “It’s shitty. Bad music, pool tables, crap beer on tap—” Hazel eyes were roaming all over, aimlessly looking for more things that seemed unglamorous and she found herself looking at the spot next to her, a dark haired male with a look on his face that didn’t exactly read inviting. “— men who smell like the inside of an auto shop.” Allie turned away. “ — Yeah, I know. It’s sucks. — I’ll call for a ride in ten and meet you soon?” It was a quick goodbye and Allie set her phone down, piggy-backing after the male’s order by putting up two fingers to the babyface bartender on the other end. “Be a doll and make that two shots.” 

+

It appeared the latest addition to tonight’s crowd felt herself above said scene and possessed an attitude to boot. Terrific. How lucky was he to earn the spot beside her when already nursing a lackluster mood of his own? She talked a little too fast to be native Chicagoan and from her general appearance, Tommy guessed eastern seaboard in a heartbeat. Probably New York or Philadelphia, but he wouldn’t dare ask. Another female voice signed off of the private phone conversation just as rapidly, either accustomed to her friend’s speed or a fellow transplant herself. Mental judgement was all well and good, the hypocrisy not lost on him, until this blinding spot in an otherwise dingy bar decided to join his venture. “Sure that’s what you want?” He questioned with unmistakably bored annoyance. “It was ordered by a guy from the inside of an auto shop.” Fine, maybe that part had been almost amusing. Almost.

Location: Some bar downtown

JESSE MARINO​:

…

Jesse drifts his gaze towards the entrance of the living area as his eyes shift back towards Fletcher. It’s hard to imagine spilling out the fact that his sisters are aware of what he’s capable of, what he does and even his deadly secret about a certain female Vronsky. He clears his throat as his lips part to respond to what Fletcher mentions about how bad the family shit is because it doesn’t even top the whole dead twin coming back from the dead and being kidnapped by the Bratva but Tommy’s words has the Marino male pulling his attention from Fletcher to him as he nods his head a little but still remains silent because he knows neither male is done talking. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his dress jacket as he tilts his head down to look at his feet. “Nothing touches you guys,” the male mutters after a second, lifting his eyes up to look at the two men in front of him. “Despite what’s going on with me that always comes first.” It’s that statement that he knows the identity of Ryan’s shooter will die with him even though the bullet was aimed for the woman he loved, the woman pregnant with his child. He brushes his tongue along his lower lip as he clears his throat, looking down at his shoes. “If I tell you both what’s going on, I risk being put between a rock and a hard place.” He looks over towards Fletcher because he knows he is the one person in this room that knows the level of monstrous he would get for his sisters. “I don’t want to have to protect them from you two… because I will.” It’s not a threat but a promise. Even though he loves Diana, the only people he would burn the Syndicate down for are his sisters.

…

The Williams male of course isn’t without his own secrets. Since the moment she returned from the dead he had been doing what he could to decipher how that was even possible and while he knew the affiliation of his parents killer was most certainly Bratva, there was no telling that the same man was the one that raised his twin and or if she too had been tainted by the Russian organizing. Unfortunately for him, her being affiliated with the Bratva was the only conclusion he could come too even if he had yet to confirm his suspicions. And if such a fate were true — just what that meant for him given it lead to his second secret. The death of Anthony Perez, the traitor soldier and his best friends little brother. It was a secret he intended on taking to his grave, and one that teetered that little bit too close to the situation with his twin. If Brooke was Bratva, he would need to get her out or kill whoever came after her, the prior was certainly the cleaner option. Nevertheless, with the eldest’s admission of the third parties family having been connected to that of the Vronsky family, brows furrow and he turns his attention from Tommy back to Jesse as if awaiting his confirmation. To his surprise Jesse doesn’t deny it and instead offers a nod in response before continued. “You really think either of us would go after your family because of their shitty choice of company?” A humorless laugh rips free of the assassin and he shakes his head. “Your family, members or not fall under our protection. So you can cool it there, Rambo.” He added, truthfully Fletcher understood the other’s sentiment because if anyone Syndicate or not went after Grace, or even Brooke should her affiliations been deemed true - he would kill them. Fletcher Williams was as fiercely loyal to the organization as they came however, much like Jesse the one thing that came before his Syndicate family was what little remained of his blood family. “You think there’s a chance that they’re being used to get to you?” @tcmmyperez​

+

It’s warranted, that twinge of a protective instinct that rises in any of them where their sisters are concerned. Barely an ember tonight, but under the right provocation it could be fanned into a flame that decimated absolutely everything in their paths. Having already lost one sibling to the nature of their business, Tommy held little qualms about putting down anyone else who threatened to subsequently snuff out Brielle’s light as well. “They're not in the game,” he reassures after a solitary moment of thought. “Which makes ‘em safe from whatever bullshit loyalty we pledged. You’ll drive yourself up a wall harping over who regular civilians come into contact with and befriend, no matter how shitty they might be. Hell, I don’t even like seeing Brielle with Atticus and he’s basically Fletcher’s lapdog.” At the aforementioned man’s agreement, broad shoulders rise and fall in a quick shrug. “It goes without saying that all of us would defend our sisters before anyone else. Don’t gotta hide or explain that.” Settling both forearms against his thighs as he leans forward to mull the idea of a covert situation over, Tommy cants his head to either side. “Using family? Wouldn’t put it past ‘em.” Onyx hues shift to Jesse. “You’re a valuable target for your knowledge of the Syndicate’s security precautions alone. More so than either of us.” @jesscmarino​