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Jan-20-2010 21:10

Who can join: Anyone (reading Reformed Burglars Never Rest would be nice)

Golden Rule: No 'moving' or speaking for someone else's characters unless you have previously talked about it.(That's basic netiquette)

Plus, I'd like (that's not a rule, though) that off topics would come marked in some of the following ways:
OFF - X, have you read my PM?

No need to ask to join, just post. The O'Learies are all NPC's, so anyone can 'move' or speak for them. Any doubts, feel free to pm me.

Jan-20-2010 21:11

It was a rainy night, and Elizabeth March, as she was now called, was on the street with no umbrella. It was no accident. She had gone out when she saw it was raining. Rain always helped cooling her mind off.

The woman let out a deep sigh and went into a small cafe.

Removing her dripping coat, she hung it by the door and found a table. After ordering an Irish Coffee and a muffin, she opened a small note pad and started writing almost feverishly.

The waiter's voice took her off her nearly hypnotic state.

"Miss, the gentleman over there asked me to give you this.", he said, holding out an envelope.

She took it.

"Does he want an answer?"

The man shook his head meaning 'no' and walked away as she opened the envelope.

In it, there was a picture of herself when she was still Constance Doyle, with a handwritten note: 'With all my love, Connie'.

She froze for a moment before ripping the picture to pieces.

Cancelling her order, she ran out of the cafe, in a state of panic.

As she reached the street, she took a deep breath and bent over, hands on her knees. Her forehead was pouring cold sweat for a few seconds, before she managed to pull herself together.

She walked around with no purpose for a while, trying to calm down.

After she managed to regain her composure, she whistled for a cab and gave him an adress near the Obelisk HQ. There was probably no one there at the moment, and that was the exact reason she wanted to be there.

The woman sat on a chair and removed her shoes. She couldn't remain seated for long, though.

She stood up and started pacing around the room, talking to herself, since she believed to be alone.

"This is a nightmare. Can't the O'Leary family just forget all about me? First Tim, now James. Gosh. Sometimes I think all this effort into leading an honest life is just a waste of time. I might as well forget about this nonsense and go back to be Constance Doyle."
(cont.)

Jan-20-2010 21:11

(cont'd)
She sighed and sat back on the chair, resting her forehead on her hand. That's when she heard a slight noise.

She stood back up, quickly.

"Anybody there?", she asked, as her heart dropped to her feet.

OFF - Not all action will be head inside the HQ, just needed a place for a start.

Jan-21-2010 21:41

The door to the sitting room swung inward, revealing Jesse Hunter, one of Obelisk’s directors. Elizabeth didn’t know him well �" he’d been handling agency affairs overseas when she was hired �" but he struck her as a bit unapproachable. Even now with a 7 o’clock shadow on his face, collar undone, and his shirt sleeves rolled up Jesse carried himself as if he were ready to stand for military inspection and attempt to pass on sheer will alone.

“Miss March.” It was more a statement of fact than a question. The tiniest bit of rigidity ebbed from the man’s frame. Even in her rattled state Elizabeth’s keen eye noticed the glint of metal as the director subtly tucked something under his belt. In her mind she noted two facts: the rumors that Director Hunter is always armed are true; the rumors that he is completely unflappable are not.

Seeing her eyes flick to his now concealed weapon Jesse commented, “We, um, don’t get many after hours visitors in the Shanghai office… I’m still gettin’ used to it.”

“I see,” Elizabeth replied, “I wasn’t exactly expecting anyone here either.”

“I must’a missed you when you come in. I was over there” �" he pointed across the foyer to Obelisk’s opulent boardroom �" “catchin’ up on paperwork.” He paused before inquiring, “Is everything alright, Miss March?”

“Things are just fine, if a bit damp. It is simply POURING down out there.” Elizabeth smiled as charmingly as she could.

One of Jesse’s eyebrows rose slightly, but after a few seconds he returned the smile. “I was just thinkin’ of headin’ out into it. Care to join me?”

Elizabeth was momentarily confused.

“I worked through dinner,” Jesse explained. “Come with me for a bite �" my treat. There’s a diner just around the corner.”

She didn’t particularly want company, but after her abrupt exit from the café there was no denying she was famished. Reluctantly she agreed.

Jan-21-2010 21:47

Without speaking, the pair hurried through the rain to the diner. By the time they were seated in a booth Elizabeth was wracking her brain for some mundane topic to fill the silence, lest it lead back to her current troubles. As they had exited Obelisk Elizabeth had peered through the plate glass windows into the boardroom. She’d seen dozens of stacks of papers spread out over the central table. As a distraction it seemed more promising than talking about the weather.

“Is all that paperwork really necessary?”

“Most of it,” Jesse replied. “Case reports, expense requests, records of trainin’ - the past is in the paperwork. One thing I learned in the Army, ‘if it ain’t written down somewhere, then it never happened.’” He paused to sip a cup of coffee the waitress had just delivered. “So, what brings by Obelisk this late… in this weather?”

“I was in the neighborhood when the weather hit. I only stopped in to dry off.”

Setting his cup down, Jesse put his elbows on the table and clasped his hands. Looking at Elizabeth he said, “I’m an investigator Miss March, not a farmer. Don’t try and sell me a load of horseshit.”

Elizabeth didn’t have to work hard to feign indignity. “If you MUST know, it’s a personal matter from my past. It doesn’t concern you or the agency. I’d rather it stay personal.”

“As long as we’re wishing,” Jesse replied, “I’d rather it stay in your past. Keep your secrets for now if you want, but you’d best find SOMEONE to trust. Eventually you’ll run into a situation that’s bigger than you.”

Elizabeth was still glaring defiantly across the booth. Jesse shrugged, “Whatever you’re into, know that the members of the agency will support you �" I say that even without knowing your circumstances �" but it works both ways. Don’t bring trouble into our house without warning.”

They stared at one another for a few tense moments before the waitress nervously broke into the silence:

“Uhm… I can come back if you two need a few minutes."

Jan-22-2010 05:44

OFF - before I post, I must make clear that Jesse and I had a long discussion before his postings, so he didn't do anything like disrespecting me or breaking the golden rule.

Jan-22-2010 06:09

Elizabeth stayed silent while Jesse spoke, taking in each and every one of his words. Then, she nodded and looked at the waitress.

"Please, do. We'll call you when we're ready to order", she answered softly.

After the woman walked away, Elizabeth turned her attention over to Jesse.

"You're right, Mr. Hunter. I should find someone to trust. How about you?"

Not waited for an answer, she leaned forward and started speaking.

"Well, here you go. It's not like you're going to believe me anyway."

Elizabeth took a pause to put her ideas in order.

"Here are my past and present issues. Number one, my real name is Constance Doyle, you may have heard of me, being on the detective bussiness. I've changed to Elizabeth March after I stopped my illegal activities. Number two, I was involved - you figure how, and it won't be far from the truth - with Timothy O'Leary, the elder in the O'Leary family, which is almost a famiglia. James, the younger brother, hates me, and apparently he found some compromising evidence of both my past and my involvement not only with Tim, but with his activities after his brother was arrested."

The woman took a deep breath, her pale green eyes wandering for a moment.

"That's pretty much it. In the near future, I'll be either arrested or murdered. Or arrested and then killed in a little 'accident' inside the slammer."

After those words, she showed a bright smile, as if she had just shared the happiest news.

"How does that sound to you, Mr. Hunter? You shouldn't worry about me bringing problems into your house. All you and the other agents in the Obelisk have to do is ignore whatever happens to me. I'm used to it."

At that, she stood up, showing the clear intention of leaving the diner and going back out in the rain, which was even heavier than when they had arrived.

Jan-22-2010 21:40

The rain poured on Marc as he stood outside next to a light pole. His trench coat was buttoned keeping his suit dry. Inside his coat, he carried his M1 Thompson Sub Machine Gun. A.K.A.; The Tommy Gun. The sling draped diagonally across his chest. He lit a cigarette and continued to stare at the building he was standing in front of.

"You're mine, O'Leary," Marc said to himself. He inhaled deeply and smoke filled his lungs. He exhaled and smoke mixed with carbon dioxide came from his mouth and disappeared into the air.

Marc unbuttoned his trench coat and grabbed the Tommy Gun and pulled the sling off his shoulder. he lowered the gun with one hand and he held his cigarette with the other. Marc made two steps toward the door and threw his cigarette into a puddle of water. Marc yanked the charging handle back on his gun and walked slowly up the stairs.

James O'Leary was about to be interrogated. And Marc loved interrogating people.

Tim O'Leary had skipped town because he knew Marc was going after him. O'Leary was head of the O'Leary Crime Family; an Irish mafia that ran the north side of town.

Marc quietly turned the handle of the door knob. There was no sound as the door opened. And Marc took a step inside the house.

Jan-27-2010 20:34

“Don’t feel that you need to be runnin’ off now,” Jesse chided as lightly as he could manage, although he could understand her eagerness to leave. Discussing her buried past (“Provided it’s true,” he thought) would have left Elizabeth feeling uncomfortably exposed.

Not that he had any specific reason to doubt her. Thinking back to the sorry state he’d found her in earlier - soaking wet, pacing back and forth across the sitting room, muttering to herself - he genuinely felt guilty about having reservations. Experience, however, had taught Jesse that he possessed significant blind spots where damsels in distress were concerned. On a few occasions these blind spots had been large enough for unpleasant gentlemen wielding assorted pipes, knives, and guns to hide in. While fully aware that his cynicism was both artificial and defensive, he struggled momentarily to keep it from showing on his face.

Doubts about her past aside, it was clear that she was genuinely anxious about her present. Regardless of name or history, Jesse decided he had absodamnlutely no intention of leaving one of Obelisk’s agents to face danger alone.

“Listen,” he said, looking directly at Elizabeth - still poised on the thin line between staying and leaving, “You’ve obviously had a rough evening.” His features reflected nothing but sincerity now. “But don’t tell me you expect to come to harm or worse and in the same breath ask me to ignore it. I’m not put together that way. Few outsiders know it, but we have a few rooms set up as livin’ quarters over at HQ. Why don’t you stay there for tonight? We’ll look at your situation again under the light of day - see what we can’t do for you.”

The offer was attractive. Elizabeth realized she was quite tired, but she had been driven underground by O’Leary in the past, and wasn’t sure she could do it again. [see Reformed Burglars Never Rest]

“Thank you for the offer, Mr. Hunter. I’ll take it into consideration..."

Jan-30-2010 10:45

The echo of the footsteps along with the noise of the rain outside gave the prison cell an additional erie chill. The guard leading the way seem affected by it too, and his shoulders seemed to freeze in place. He unlocked another gate and lead the bureau agent down another hallway, right to the maximum security cells.

The prison doors in this section were solid iron, save a little rectangular slot at eye level, which could only be opened from the outside. The agent fathomed a horror stricken shriek from behind one of the doors, but he ignored it. He must focus on the purpose of his visit.

"This is it, Agent Zeo." The guard announced, and opened last the cell at the end of the hall. The rusty squeak of the door made Zeo's teeth sour. The guard stood nervously as Zeo entered the dimly lit prison cell. A lightening suddenly flashed, calling attention to the window with the broken iron bars. Zeo sighed. Soft thunder roamed from a distance.

"He must have had outside help, I'm telling ya! How these crooks bypass our tight security was beyond me, but I'm telling ya, the warden is terribly pissed and we have all our men investigating the break." The slim guard pleaded.

"I'm not here to find out how he got away." Zeo's dark eye continued to scan the small prison cell. "I'm interested in one thing, and one thing only. How to get the bastard Tim O'Leary back in this hell hole."

Finally, he found the lead he was looking for, etched on the wall of the cell. An initial: C.D., with a huge X hexed across it. Constance Doyle, or currently known as Elizabeth March. She was the final nail on Tim's coffin, the one who testified against him and finally put the bastard behind bars. Tim O'Leary never leave any revenge unattended, and Zeo now knew exactly where Tim was be heading.

He had some old friends to visit.

Jan-30-2010 11:35

"It's time. You can do this...you can do this..." Molly breathed, unfazed by her drenched state or the rain pouring down on her. She only had eyes for the ship that just now unloading.

She shivered, and it wasn't the rain. Because the instant the ramp dropped, she saw her, waiting by the rail, tiny hands wrapped around the metal. And when she saw her, Annabelle raised her tiny head and fixed Molly with such a look that pierced her through the core.

Not even waiting for the Sister that had accompanied her, the little girl sailed down the ramp in a bee-line for Molly. Reflexively, Molly dropped to her knees in the puddle around her and caught up her little girl, clutching her as tightly as she could.

"Mama." It wasn't a question, and Molly nodded, the soaked ends of their twin red hair twining together, as tears disguise as rain welled up in their eyes.

"Ah." Molly said, rising. "You must be tired and hungry from your journey. Let's go get a bite to eat, and find a place to get dry. I think there's a diner nearby that should be perfect."

They laced their pale fingers together and moved to cross the street and down the sidewalk. But Molly's shoulders were rigid, and her eyes swept through the dark curtain of rain uneasily, as her other hand wrapped around the handle of her gun. She knew there was no way to hide this for very long anymore, and soon she'd have to trust her friends with a task that would most likely result in her death, but if she played her cards right, her daughter would be spared.

Molly pushed open the door to a diner. She guided the miniature version of herself to the counter and whispered that she could have anything that she liked, then proceeded to pile their wet things on the stool next to them. In doing so, she glimpsed Elizabeth and Jesse sitting nearby, deep in conversation. She raised a thin eyebrow and looked away, giving the two their privacy.

"You have questions to answer." said her daughter suddenly in her soft, smoky voice.