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| Initiation | Started by: Cathy_Parks on Nov 10, '07 20:43 |
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The evening was cool, the early winter air cutting crisply through the murk and shadow of back alleys and blackened back streets. The lamps lined along the roads slowly lit up one by one, the thin film of their their light fingering their way to the surface of sticky pavements and the remnants of other day's grind in 1930s Chicago. All the stalls were packed up now, the long day's bustle but a murmmur in the fettered air and those whose games were only played in silhouette crawled into the darkness - a playground for hopheads, gonifs and fiends. The dives opened, the speakeasies stirred to life. And amongst them all, stepped a woman at a cross roads, her heels clicking on cold cement. Cathy was her name, a smart broad from the Northside of town who was not so smart when it came to men. She paused for a moment in a catch of lamplight to imagine him, her no good beau turning their apartment upside down looking for something to soak for another drink, another immersion into the bottom of his endless addiction. Harsh words and harder hands had driven her out onto the streets tonight, tired of that madness in his eyes and tired of the life that was threatening to quit on her. She was a smart broad, smart enough even to realise that no matter how much he said he loved her, she would never forget the weight of his hands. And so what was left for a girl whose only talent was to be second best to a glass of cold rye and a sleepless night on the town. Cathy didn't know where her path was about to lead her, the only thing certain was that she couldn't go back. Not back into that place where only tears and a broken heart were there to keep her company. Yet in her helplessness, cinders of determination smouldered at her core. There had to be a way to make this life work, had to be way to make something more of herself. Beneath heavy lashes her attention flickered to the sound of footsteps that were not her own. So she turned defiantly, unaware that tonight had answers that she hadn't yet asked the questions to. |
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“Annnd down on at the clip join…” the tall, thin man sang as he staggered his way down yet another side alley of his home-town. Oliver McTavish was not a man that was accustomed to being alone- needing a few good men here and there to point out his way and steer him in the right direction. And yet suddenly, on this quickly darkening evening, the man found himself alone in the family bar with an empty bottle of whiskey on the counter in front of him and his Right Hand Johnny making off with some woman he was making eyes at all night. Rather than let the atmosphere get him down, the mob Boss- known the six cities over for his unusual squabbling-banter and rather feminine traits- decided to take it upon himself to find his way back to his Head Quarters. Perhaps there someone could take him by the hand and lead him on his way back to his apartment. The trouble was, Ollie could not quite find his HQ. It had been an hour of wandering over the city, a smoldering cigarette butt dangling from his fingers as he narrowed his blue eyes at street sign after street sign. On occasion a burst of song would work it’s way out from his throat, the slurred words echoing in between the empty spaces of buildings. “And I knooooww…” His voice cut off as he saw a figure walk across the street in front of him. “Well hellooo,” the drunken man slurred to himself, drinking in the sight of a woman- one with looks he had quite not seen before. Without even a second thought to his earlier plan of heading home, Oliver set off behind her, his eyes raking up and down her backside as he walked. For minutes he followed in silence, eventually flicking the tail end of his cigarette into some empty side alley that they passed. How? his mind kept forcing the issue. How could he possibly get her attention? And suddenly- without warning- the issue was solved. The beautiful woman spun on the spot to face him, almost catching him off guard. For a minute he reeled- staring at her blankly before clearing his throat and shaking his head. A slow grin crept across the man’s face and he instinctively ran his right hand through his messy mop of dark brown hair. “Well hello there,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. “Tell me now, Miss- what is a pretty little thing like you doing out so late in a place like this?” Good opener, Ollie, he thought to himself- not caring to realize she might be frightened by the tall, whiskey-smelling creepy man. |
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| Reply by: Oliver_McTavish at Nov 10, '07 21:30 | |
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As Cathy turned it was not the face of the man before her that her eyes took snap shots of like a box camera, but her surroundings, the neon spectaculars advertising jazz music and call girls clamoured in her periphery. The lights of hell in the faces of goons and juicers, suckling on whatever buzz they could get to drown out the fact that their lives were nothing but a busted flush in a poker game they would never win. When her eyes finally came to meet those of the gentleman who'd spoken to her, a wave of shock rippled in the deep brown. He wasn't dressed like the other goons in this part of the Burg, he was well tailored and well kept. Slightly dapper and quite handsome if it hadn't of been for the stink of moonshine that lingered in the air around him. Cathy's first instinct was to turn back around and walk away, but something in his manner made her stay, something about the difference in appearence kept her highheeled shoes firm beneath her. Bringing her purse close to her side, she faltered for a moment, aware that for a smart broad, she could be careless and dumb sometimes - that knowledge only heightened by her awareness that he was very drunk. And once again Cathy Parks found herself in a slow dance with that drink that drove everyone mad in the end, everyone it seemed but her. "How about you tell me what a well-dressed man like you is doing in a part of town frequented by goons and the mob?" she asked, surprised at her own daring. She should've walked away, back to a life that could be surmised in four words: big ideas, small results. Back to empty bottles with no bottom, just waiting for it's victim to fall inside. But she didn't. She stood waiting, not caring if this entire hellish night would swallow her up whole. |
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| Reply by: Cathy_Parks at Nov 10, '07 22:15 | |
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Staring through the window of my apartment, I watched as a well dressed drunk followed this beautiful little lady down the road, I kept a close eye out because that's the kind of person I am, although I'm quite involved in the mob, I would always be first to help an elderly old lady cross the road. He kept on singing towards her and I think she may have got startled, because she suddenly stopped and slowly turned around with a gazed look, wile the guy looked to be taking advantage and put his hand on her head. I ran over to the coat rack and got my coat and fedora and rushed quickly down to flights of stairs. I got out the door and seen that they were having a conversation, so I slowly approached, feeling bewildered and very cold, how could these people be out here on such a cold winters night, I wondered to myself. Anyway I approached the man and woman slowly and started to smell a strong smell of whiskey obviously coming from the man, as he was staggering and singing up the road. As I grew nearer I stopped and turned to the woman and said, "Are you ok there?". |
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| Reply by: PeterPetrelli at Nov 11, '07 08:40 | |
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