| |
Darkseeker
|
Please dont post unless your name is in the title! Thank you! |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Finnegan Alan Beauman
Finn
"Oh, piss off."
Name: Finnegan Alan Beauman
Age: 21
Sex: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual, has no preference
Role: Gang leader
Race: Caucasian
Nationality: Australian-American
Appearance: Finnegan, an otherwise charming and handsome looking man, is man who holds himself with pride and a certain determination that lingers in his eyes. He stands at roughly six foot three, having an already tall family to begin with. He has a fit and athletic body, clear muscle lingering beneath his skin. Speaking of which, his skin is fair with minimal blemishes, but of course the common freckle or mole lingers, scattered throughout his entire body. His skin color is a warmer color, a bit more on the tan side because of how often the man spends his days outside. His body is shaped like that of a reversed triangle - his shoulders being broad while his torso is more slim. He has slight muscle protruding through his chest, his torso being defined. He has major definition in his arms mainly.
Finnegan's face shape is easily described as a square, though with a slight ovular twist. He has a defined jawline, mostly seen when his jaw is clenched. His face is accompanied by a straight nose coming from his forehead, which is a bit distant from his hairline, though it isn't oddly large by any means. It comes to a rounded point, his nostrils being a bit on the larger side. At times, they will flare when angered or even in normal conversation. Below that are his lips, which are on the thinner side of the spectrum. When talking or smiling, the right side of his top lip will raise more than the other, making him look a bit lopsided. His eyes are an almond shape, a bit on the rounder side, being colored with an interesting hazel that sometimes look a bit more brown or green some days. They are rimmed with thin, yet long and dark eyelashes. He has dark eyebrows, which are not thick but are not thin either. They have a slight arch at the end, and he is constantly raising them subconsciously while talking.
Finnegan's head is covered with dark, jet black hair. His hair is a bit more on the thinner side, though it isn't entirely obvious. He has is parted on the left, so his hair mainly lays to the right. It just looks like a mound of black on his head, honestly. To be fair, he doesn't do much with it other then well, wash it like any other person would. There are times some pieces may fall stray and fall on his face. The length of it is short, as he doesn't like growing it past his ears, and is faded on the sides. The top is the longest, being maybe two to three inches long if you wanted to get technical with how long a strand was.
Personality:
Calculating || Witty || Cunning
To start off, Finnegan is probably the most calculating asshole you will ever meet in your lifetime. He has absolutely no limits when it comes to think of his next move, next scheme, or even whatever rude glare he's going to send your way for no reason. He is absolutely ruthless when it comes to planning things, and for this, he is surprisingly organized. Most would be taken back by this at the fact he comes off as some asshole on the street who would in fact flip you the birdie for no reason, but beside that, he does like to have some sort of order in his life. That being said, he's still rather chaotic anyway.
Finnegan is very, very witty. Like, it might as well be his trademark. While he is just a fast thinker in general, it comes with anything. His responses (normally sarcastic, honestly, just to piss other people off), his actions, his entire thought process is described as 'witty'. But it still stands - being witty is literally is humor. He is quite amusing in this sense, especially if you get him going. Now, he could be nice, which is rare (but possible), but nine times out of ten Finnegan is definitely going to be a dick to you when it comes to his remarks and comments.
Finnegan, if you couldn't already tell, an asshole. A cunning one at that. He is knowing and sly, always working around the rules and honestly can become a bit of a liar due to this nature. He's manipulative, yes, but he's also just a con artist. Finnegan knows how to deceive people, and honestly, he might as well deceive himself. He truly has no limits, nor has he ever came close to testing them. If he wants something, he will get it, and that's a promise. Finnegan simply does whatever it takes to get something that he wants - craves - or even in the slightest bit just wants cause he can. For this, he might as well be considered greedy.
Tempered || Violent || Fierce
Temper and rage is one of the things that honestly drives Finnegan. He has a rather short fuse and simply becomes an even bigger asshole when pissed off. Normally he would never admit that temper is something that motivates him, but it's one of the things that does. That truly does. He expresses it through fighting and killing and whatever else he has to do - yelling, destroying things... he becomes rather destructive and violent. Perhaps it's his impulsive-ness, or maybe it's just who he is.
Finnegan is rather violent if you couldn't tell. He'd commit murder to the entire world if he could, watching it all burn around him. He does not like to talk things out and nor is he really reasonable. Granted he is a skilled fighter, but he's never been known as a pacifist. At least not anymore. Finnegan has always been taught to get through your problems and not run away from them, so instead he runs towards them hot-headed. It's not the greatest strategy, but hey, he's not dead quite yet.
Finnegan can also be easily described as fierce. He's intense and powerful and destructive, though he stil manages to get the job down. Because of all of these things, he's a man to fear, but to him, it's simply his own identity. Finnegan has never thought of his own fierceness as a bad thing. In fact, he figures it helps him make choices when need-be.
Sarcastic || Blunt || Selfish
Finnegan's main source of humor is sarcasm. He thrives off of it and has a comment for just about anything. Just ask anyone he knows. While he could be considered a 'comic relief', it isn't that in most cases. In most cases, it's unnecessary and probably rude and excessive. But hey, anything for entertainment, right? To be fair, Finnegan is quite funny anyway. Give him a few to drink, maybe even some girls (or guys) to impress, and he might as well have you rolling on the floor laughing. If you don't piss him off, that is. Otherwise he might have your dead body rolling out of the bar you walked in to in the first place.
Finnegan is quite blunt. He doesn't like to beat around the bush and is always rather forward. He doesn't lie... Okay, take that back. He doesn't lie all the time, but he is a pretty damn good liar in all. That being said, it is kinda hard to read whether or not when he's telling the truth. But normally if he's being straightforward and you can definitely tell, he's more than likely telling the truth. However, he may impulsively lie for his own sake because he's just like that.
Finnegan is quite selfish. You'd think leading a rebellion would change that and he'd be fore the people, but he really isn't. At least not actually. He portrays this version of himself that is quite selfless and would do anything for his people, but in all, he's just the guy who kinda likes the power and fame he as, albeit not very good fame. He does most things in the interest of himself, though he could care about someone if they really made an impact on him.
Strengths:
Persuasive
Honorable
Witty
Physical Strength
Weaknesses:
Hunted
Temper
Quickness
Reckless
Impulsive
Affiliations:
Wessen Phillips - Male - 22 y/o - Second-in-command of Gang
Benny North - Male - 40 y/o - Father-like Figure
McKenzie Hust - Female - 15 y/o - Member of Gang
Backstory: Not much is known.
Other: Has a very distant accent, not very obvious anymore.
|
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Ilaria Amara Markovic Female | 20 | Human | NYPD Detective | Nickname(s) | Ari | Spy Name | Cassandra (Cassy) Thatcher | Sexuality | Heterosexual | Nationality | Albanian | Appearance | At first glance, Ilaria is drop dead gorgeous. Many have mistaken her for a model. Standing at 5'9, with a lean build. Her body shows her athleticism, yet is curvy and hourglass shaped. She has a medium bust. Her legs are long and toned, while her hips are rounded. Her complexion is on the tanner side, leaving her perfectly sun kissed. She has clear, blemish free skin. Ilaria's facial features are sharp and defined. She has a small average sized forehead. Her cheek bones are high and prominent, giving her cheek a hollow look. Her face shape is diamond, with a sharp jawline. A straight, slightly upturned button nose. Her eyebrows are sharp, and slightly arched at the end. They tend to give her a natural resting glare. They are thick, and dark brown, but neat and well kept. Below, her eyes are slightly hooded and almond shape. Giving her sharp siren eyes. With her Albanian heritage, her eyes are lined with thick, full, curly lashes. Due to her sectoral heterochromia, her left eye’s bottom iris is amber, while the top is a aqua green. Her right eye has no affects of this mutation leaving it a fiery orange amber. She has plump rosy pink lips. Her hair is a chestnut brown and reaches her bottom. It falls in soft loose curls. She also has dimples, but no one would ever know as she never smiles. No tattoos. She usually wears small gold hoops. She has a few scars scattered around her body. She'll also never leave her home without a gold necklace that has a unique emblem on it. | Personality | Ari is an introvert at heart. She likes to keep her thoughts to herself. She prefers to stay in the background of situations and analyze others. Unfortunately, for her she gets shoved to the fore front a lot of the times. However, she is very good at turning on that "switch." She can go front anti social to a bubbly social butterfly. She's very skillful in that aspect, turning into other personas to accomplish the task at hand. Although, she turns these personas on, she still remains analyzing everyone and everything. A trait she picked up from her line of work. She's mastered it. Being able to figure people out, simply by the way they carry themselves, or the way they talk. She tends to keep mental files of people in her own mind. Due to her work, shes very serious, cautious and remains alert at all times. Her line of work comes with creating lots of enemies. This may make her paranoid, but she thinks it's just her playing it safe. When entering new buildings, she will look for her exit plan before proceeding. Ilaria is extremely intelligent. She climbed the ranks quickly, and in record time compared to others. She's always excelled in everything she did. Either that be academics, sports, or hobbies. She picks up everything very quickly. She even skipped a few years in her schooling and graduated High school early. Another trait she picked up, or maybe she's always had, is her emotionless attitude. Arriving on scene to a vicious, horror filled crime scenes, she won't bat an eye. Other detectives may break at certain points in their careers, but nothing has fazed Ilaria. She's numb. Sometimes her work makes her feel not human, like she doesn't belong. Yet, she doesn't dwell on that fact for long. Not many have seen the real, raw and uncensored Ilaria Amara Markovic. Even at work, with coworkers she's worked with for some time don't know much about her. She's a complete mystery to most. Even people that consider her a "friend" don't know all much about her, although they don't think about that to begin with. They are simply her friend for other reasons, not because they consider her a genuine friend. | Strengths | - Stealth - Intelligence - Knowledgeable on many weapons - Loyalty | Weaknesses | - Stubborn - Risk Taker - Not a team player - Vengeful | History | Born and Raised in Europe. Other than that confidential |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Finnegan Alan Beauman
"Your ass is going to be so sorry when Wessen gets back," Benny huffed, taking another sip from the glass. Finn rolled his eyes.
"No he's not. It's an investment, he'll understand," Finn stated. He stood behind the bar, pouring himself another glass before refilling Benny's now-empty one. Benny chuckled softly.
"Like hell," Benny paused for a moment. "You're acting like you're God or something, boy," he then added, shaking his head lightly. "I think if I can get away with most things, that makes me a god," Finn shot back. He then shrugged. "I think you're just doubtful. This will be good - for everyone. Matter of fact, I'm pretty sure it will be good for you. Something good coming into Benny North's life! What a change," Finn said, raising his glass as if it were a toast. The older man shook his head.
"Your dad left you so many things. You could've gone to a good school. Find yourself a woman, get married, have a few kids... Maybe even buy yourself a nice house with the money he left ya. But no, Finnegan must do the harder thing," Benny rolled his eyes.
"Ben, listen. You're right, I could've done those things. But where's the excitement in that? That's so... normal..." Finn trailed off.
"Normal? Jesus, kid. You had the whole world at your feet and you completely went around it. Y'know, your daddy wouldn't be too proud of you," Benny stated, his voice slightly more firm to get his point across.
Finn's jaw had clenched. He shook his head. "My dad couldn't have done anything that I've done here. He left me those things so I couldn't become better than him. He wanted to me to just be normal as if it was something I was meant to do. Clearly, it wasn't," Finn responded, easing the temper that slowly rose at the mention of his dad. Benny knew what he was doing, and he knew it as well.
The bar was quiet. Really only members of the gang and other outside trustees would come in. Nobody else was in the building besides Benny and Finn, meaning that the tension was so obvious that you could practically feel the weight of the air on your shoulders if you were to enter. Benny had grown silent, completing his drink. The man stood up, looking at Finnegan.
"Just think about a normal life, alright?" Benny said, setting the glass down at the bar and exiting the building after slipping on his jacket.
Finn sighed, now thinking about his father. His dad was an honorable and respectable man, doing the same thing that his son was doing now -- drinking. Finn could remember how absent his father was, hence why Benny, his dad old friend came in and took his place. Finn was grateful for that, though it didn't really seem to change his mind much. Why couldn't his dad just be a normal parent? Why couldn't he have just been there?
His dad was a leader of a smaller gang, though it made a name for itself. Murders, robberies, easily covered up by the fact that the police were on the gang's payroll. But he did some good - donating to the poor, helping the homeless, and the legitimate side of the business was mainly... Well, Finn couldn't even say that it was entirely legal, it's just another lie that his dad told him so Finn wouldn't have to worry about cops bursting into the house to arrest his dad once again.
Finn sighed softly, finishing his drink before setting the whiskey bottle back on the shelf. He looked up, hearing the door open and close before seeing Wessen.
"Oh, here we go," Finn muttered under his breath.
"What the fuck?!" Wessen said loudly. Finn shook his head.
"Wess-"
"No, Finn. Y'know what.." Wessen trailed off, shaking his head. He licked his lips and glared ever so slightly at Finn. "You don't do shit without asking me first. That was the deal, no? The deal was that you were to ask me about anything and get a second point of view. A second opinion, yeah?" Wessen raised his eyebrows.
"Listen. I don't even know who told you, but I'm assuming Benny did. I'm sorry I didn't ask you, but this is good. Very good." Finn shifted his weight slightly. "We will soon be on top, brother." |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Applying a fresh coat of lip gloss, Ilaria swiped a delicate, skinny finger below her full lips. Wiping away the excess gloss that got on her skin. She tilted her head slightly, staring at herself in the rear view mirror of her car. She didn't recognize the woman looking back at her in the mirror. It was her facial features, but it was still a stranger. Funny how much hair color can change the way someone looks. That and contact lenses, makeup, and wardrobe. The wig she was wearing was mid length, blonde with highlights. It looked natural, even against her bronzed skin tone. It made her feel like a surfer girl, all she was missing was a puka shell necklace and a surf board taller than her. The wig was installed well, she could put her hair up and change the style and no one would know it wasn't her hair. Hell one could tug on it and it wouldn't budge. Staring back at her were dark chocolate brown eyes. Contact lenses. They looked real. Like they were her birth given eye color. A part of her wished they were. She could feel every ounce of makeup that was slathered on her face. It made her want to scratch at her face, but she refrained from doing so. The long sleeve dark red Henley shirt she was wearing was form fitting, but not enough to where it gave away her fit physique. On top a black leather jacket, that she quite liked. Maybe she would add it to her wardrobe after she successfully completed the mission. She wore dark washed ripped jeans, that made her feel like a teenager. A pair of simple black ankle boots on her small feet. Small fake diamond studs, replaced her usual small gold hoops. Lastly, a handmade bracelet on her left hand. It had dark blue beads on it with some thread work. An accent color of silver in some of the beads. Glancing down at her full chest, she unbuttoned two of the three buttons. Adjusting a few blonde strands, she opened the car door. Straightening up the leather jacket, she reached back in for her purse. A brown leather cross body purse, she pulled the strap over her head, letting it hang at her hip. She pulled her hair from under the strap. Lastly, grabbing a manila folder from her passenger seat. The door groaned loudly as she closed it. She drove a 2000 Honda Civic, with fish bowl windows and chipping paint. One of the headlights was out, and the backseat had a rip in the middle seat. A few stains here and there. The car was beat up. However, that was the goal. Ilaria purposely created this person for this job. She knew exactly what she wanted to go for. Young, lively, blonde girl that made the big move here to the city. She doesn't have much money since she spent it all on the apartment. An apartment that doesn't look much better than her car. She's looking for new fun experiences. The party type and a flirt that has men falling at her feet. Gazing up at the building names, her eyes scanned them. She knew her exact destination, but she wanted to build up. Wanting every possible angle covered. The woman was thorough. She may not have lived, let alone ventured down in this area of the city, but she knew it well. The months of research paid off well. There were eyes everywhere, even if she couldn't see them at first glance. It was late, but places were still open. It seemed slow for most businesses. She entered a small market, greeting the clerk. Ending the small talk, she slid over a single sheet. Her resume. The clerk smiled at her, his beady eyes lingering on her face. Waving a goodbye, she moved onto the next. From the name, it sounded like a sports bar. Stepping inside, her eyes sweeped the open area, before she proceeded. Most of the men in the bar, glanced over. Their hungry eyes remaining on her, as she made her way to the bar counter top. Grabbing the attention of the bar tender, she chatted him up. The man had a sloppy smile on his face, the entire time Ilaria spoke to him. Once again she slide her resume over. The man snatched it up quickly, as if it were worth millions. Making a speedy exit, she made sure to sway her hips as she did. Arriving at her desired destination, she looked up at the name lit up. Pushing open the door she entered. "We will soon be on top, brother." Her eyes quickly spotted her target. She quickly noted his voice and what she managed to hear him say. "I hope you weren't planning on closing before getting me a drink." She called out, her voice soothing and melodic. Already giving off a friendly feel. Her heavy accent hidden from sight. Making her way over to the bar counter top, she placed her folder down. Leaning over the counter, she crossed her arms. The corners of her rosy lips curled up slightly, in a flirtatious way. However, it wasn't a smile. Her eyes trailed down the man behind the counter. Finn. Finnegan Alan Beauman. In the flesh. Her chocolate brown eyes meeting his hazel ones. She tilted her head slightly, "Well, Barkeep. Can I get a Jack and Coke?" Confidence oozed off of the woman. She looked past his broad shoulders, her eyes scanning the shelves of alcohol. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Finnegan Alan Beauman
As soon as Wessen had gone to respond, he quickly shut up seeing the entrance of an unfamiliar woman. Finn's gaze traveled from his close friend to said woman. He gave a slight confused look, then one of slight relief. Stranger woman saving the day, he thought silently to himself, in which he gave a soft scoff. He looked at Wessen. "We finish this later, yeah?" Finn asked, raising his eyebrows. Wess rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, but I'm not fucking please with you Mr. Beauman," Wessen said, moving past the new introduction and went out of the building. Finn sighed softly as he watched his friend leave. Sure, he had gone against their word, but was that something to be so over reactive about? Finn could easily be investing in far worse things. Oh... far worse.
Finn had moved his attention to the new woman that came to the bar. Bronze skin, blonde hair, dark eyes... Finn would remember this one in the future. He heard her request for a Jack and Coke, in which Finn confidently moved behind the bar to give her. He gave short glances to her, somehow captivated without even knowing her name. Just the sound of her voice made Finnegan feel a slight spark within him, but it wasn't one that mean 'this might be the love of my life', but it was one where he could maybe make friends... or more (if it went there) outside of the gang.
As he slid the full glass over, he met with her dark almond, chocolate eyes before he clicked his tongue. "You're not from here," he said. Finnegan grabbed another glass, taking the same Jack for the woman's drink and pouring a small amount in the short glass. "Now what would someone like you be doing here?" Finn asked, pulling out a lighter from his pocket and a pack of cigarettes. He slid the cylinder between his lips before lighting it. He set the pack and the lighter down on the bar counter.
"Finn!" A young voice hollered. The door opened, and in came McKenzie. Kenzie. Kenny, as Finn liked to tease her. Finn rolled his eyes, exhaling the smoke after a short inhale. "Oh, whose this," she asked, looking at the new woman. She admired her blonde hair and her style. Kenzie smiled. "I like your jacket," Kenzie smiled, pointing at the piece of clothing.
"What do you want, Ken?" Finn asked, grabbing an ashtray from behind the bar and setting it on the counter. Kenzie shrugged.
"I was... bored, and Benny told me you were here." Kenzie adjusted herself in the bar stool, sitting to the right of the woman. Finn huffed softly. He rubbed his face, taking another drag off the cigarette. He looked at the woman.
"You smoke?" He asked, and this was his way to offer a cigarette. Finn then looked at McKenzie, giving a slight calculating look. There was clearly another reason why she was here, but considering the new company, Kenzie was smart enough to not say anything. People to trust were hard to come by nowadays.
"Kenzie, do me a favor," Finn paused to take a hit from the cigarette, exhaling the smoke away from the two girls. Kenzie had looked away from the new woman to look up at Finn. "Go and get Benny... wherever he is, and tell him I got a job for him, and come back with him so we can talk," Finn requested. Kenzie nodded, hopping off the stool.
"Nice meetin' ya, lady," she said her farewell to the woman. "Bye-bye Finny!" McKenzie called out, earning the finger from her older friend. Finn chuckled slightly, looking at the woman and taking another moment to observe her. She looked like she fit in quite well.
"What brings you here?"
(my posts will definitely fluctuate in length heh) |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
One way Ilaria would describe how her brain worked, it would be as if a pen were scribbling away on some scratch paper. Writing down everything she heard around her, things said to her, the list could go on. She had photographic memory and was very detail oriented. She watched ones every move, even if her eyes weren't directly on someone. Having an amazing peripheral helped immensely. "We finish this later, yeah?" She filed that away, under Beauman. Ilaria's exterior gave nothing away, or the fact she was actively listening and picking out every little movement. At this point, the whole conversation Beauman had with his friend, was stored away. Mentally. Her gaze moved towards the other man, who frankly seemed upset about something. She watched his retreating back for a moment, before moving her attention back to Finn. She found Finn already looking at her, glancing away she watched him expertly move around the bar. She lightly tapped her perfectly manicured finger tips on the counter. It was simply a random tune. Although, at times she wasn't looking directly at the man, she could see him sneak glances at her. As he finished her drink and slid it towards her, she caught it with eagerness. She drummed her slender fingers against the glass. Dragging her gaze from her glass she met his. "What gave it away." She chuckled lightly. Bringing the glass to her lips, she took a long sip. The golden liquid burning her throat. She closed her eyes, as if savoring every drop. "Mmm." She nodded to herself, as if agreeing that the drink was delicious. Putting the glass back down, she licked her lips, making sure no drop was wasted. She watched him pour himself a glass. She tilted her head slightly, feigning confusion. "Here? Now, whats that suppose to mean?" Her eyes zeroed in on the pack of cigarettes on the counter. Her expression said she was a fan of that brand, but in reality she was memorizing what brand he used. Hell, she was noting what color lighter he had. Just before she could saying anything, she looked in the direction of another voice. It was a woman's voice. She watched the young woman walk up to them, asking who she was. "Thank you. I thrifted it." She said proudly, running a hand down her sleeve. Ken. She watched the two interact, periodically taking sips of her Jack and Coke. They talked to each other like they were siblings. Interesting. She looked young. Maybe a younger sister? Realizing the man, Finn, was talking her, her eyes landed on the pack. Bringing her gaze back to him, she narrowed her eyes playfully, "You're a bad influence." She joked, straightening up she reached for a cigarette. She spun it between her fingers, as the two spoke. Another name. Benny. "You too!" She called out after the girl. Once the girl was out of ear shot, she turned her attention back to the target. She raised a perfect brow at him, "Finny." She chuckled lightly, as she tested the name on her tongue. She knew that was a nickname. "So he has a name." She teased, holding the cigarette closer to her lips. She leaned closer, as if waiting for him to light it for her. Her chocolate brown eyes dragging over his features. The man was handsome. She had to give him that. Hell, that felt illegal to even think. He had a great build. A criminal's build. She couldn't help it. She was the law after all. A part of her couldn't wait until this was over. Although, it would take time. Months even, before the job could be complete. She shrugged her slender shoulders in response to his question, glancing over to the windows. "Job hunting." She said simply. Her brows pulled together for a moment, as if she thought of something. Meeting his gaze once more, she tilted her head slightly. Her expression back to flirty, "Say, you wouldn't happen to be hiring?" She questioned, taking a sip of her drink. The corners of her lips turned up slightly, "I'd be a great addition to the team, I can promise you that much." Her tone flirty and friendly. "I can do you one better actually." She paused slightly, opening her folder. "I even brought my resume." She said proudly. She held it out to him, biting her lip excitedly. Her resume held all her great qualities. Her name, Cassandra Thatcher. Her phone number, email, skills, past jobs, education. The whole thing. Cassandra's last job so happen to be a bartender. (Lol it's fine mine will too XD) |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Finnegan Alan Beauman
Finn hummed softly. The two met eyes for a moment, Finnegan taking note of her eye color. Dark chocolate eyes. Remarkable, Finnegan thought silently to himself before he responded. "I know a new face when I see one," he responded, adding more liquid to his glass. He brought the cooling glass to his lips, taking a quick swig of it before he moved down the counter, now practically right in front of her.
"Here means.... here. You see, most people don't just come here, especially ones as pretty as you," Finnegan smirked slightly, shaking his head. "But how would I know? I just live here," he added. "What I mean is that you're here for something bad or you're here for something new, but not a fresh start. This place is bad for fresh starts," Finnegan redefined what he had meant, trying to be semi-discreet. He wasn't sure if it was exactly working though.
Finnegan sighed softly watching McKenzie leave the building. He scoffed. Kenzie had been within the gang since she was just ten, her mother leaving her with them outside of one of their safe houses. Her mother wasn't exactly a part of the gang, though would occasionally pop in to give her word of advice. Her husband though was a man who was very, very useful to the gang, though drinking got the better of him. One night, he came home drunk as all hell and started in on his wife. The next day, Kenzie's mother came to Finn asking for a gun, which he granted. He noticed the subtly of the bruises under her half-applied makeup, but didn't ask. Next thing he knew, her husband was to never be seen again and Finn hasn't heard from her since. Sometimes he wonders, but he would always remember what she said to him before leaving Kenzie with them: "Do what you can to protect her. At all costs. She's worthy of that."
And Finn's done just that. He took her in like a younger sister. She's his little sidekick, in all honesty. Kenzie taught him things about himself that he didn't even know existed within him. In a way, it taught him how to be gentle and reassuring. There was a beating heart within Finnegan after all.
Finnegan's attention returned to the woman in front of her at the mention of his name. "Yes, he has a name," he laughed softly. He brought his lighter up, gently cupping the end of the cigarette and lit it for her. He slipped the lighter back in his pocket, holding contact. "Finnegan," he said. "You're gonna have to win me over to get to know the rest," he said half-joking. He was joking... sorta. In this world, your name could mean two things - whoever heard it would fear you, or whoever heard it would want to kill you. Never much of an in between.
"What about you, Miss City Girl?" He asked teasingly.
Finnegan then slightly tilted his head at the mention of jobs. He parted his lips slightly, biting the inside of his cheek before he nodded. Her gaze met his once more, and again, he felt sucked in by those dark eyes. Menacing yet peaceful. They were comforting, but there was definitely else something hidden beneath them, waiting to be revealed and waiting for a perfect time to strike. Mysterious, and yet, Finnegan responded. Finnegan could feel her flirting slowly rubbing off on him, in which he smiled. "Great addition indeed," he smirked, seeing her bring out a folder.
"You really weren't kidding about job huntin', were ya?" He asked, looking down at the paper then back up at her. He skimmed over the print. Seemed legit enough... he could trust it for now until he learned more. Finnegan had some friends in the system that he could possibly ask, though not now. That seemed to be too soon. "Y'know what," he clicked his tongue, looking at her, "Cassandra Thatcher, you're hired," he said with a slight smile while also noting the information in the resume. |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
|
Fall 
Night Weather: 
Light Rain Moon: 
