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Post by B on Aug 13, 2007 23:28:01 GMT -5
"France is pretty... The few days I spent without it raining flames." He said then shook his head. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm Shawn." He quickly said with an added apology. This woman's beauty and the way she can entice people, there was no way it'd occur to him that he had forgotten about his family. Not that it mattered, they were probably going about their daily business, so what's the rush?
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Post by Jo on Aug 13, 2007 23:36:41 GMT -5
" Ever since the var started I knew it would eventually hit my beauty home." she breifly started then looked down a bit. It was a little hard to comprehend that her part of her world was being torn apart, but the young woman pushed on through. " It iz a pleasure to meet you Zhawn-" the french woman was momentarily inturrepted by the return of her drink and that the rest of the band was not able to make it today. And she knew what that meant. A day off. " A toast, hoping that thiz zilly little var will finally end" she held her martini up to him.
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Post by B on Aug 13, 2007 23:56:18 GMT -5
"We can only hope." He said as he lightly tapped his glass of cheap beer against her martini. He didn't want to spend too much cash on beer after all, he only wanted to quench himself real quick before he got home. Luckily he had money.. Quite a bit of it in fact thanks to the war. But, he'd rather be poor than to experience what happened again.
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Post by Jo on Sept 16, 2007 19:11:09 GMT -5
After the clinking of drinks, the woman took a sip of her alcoholic beverage. " I really should let you go, cherie. I 'ave to vork and I azzume that you had some girl in your life, that really needs to be attended to" she smiled once more at the boy and returned once more to her piano, to play a very times more before she would really be released.
The life of a lounge singer. Too bad her reputation was only in Harlem. Or she'd spread her wings and become a jazz star following in the foot steps of some of the most brilliant women to ever record. Like Nina Simone, Billie Holiday, and many more afro-american women.
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Post by B on Sept 16, 2007 19:38:38 GMT -5
Shawn bade farewell to the beautiful Audrey before looking at his watch. "Oh crap." He mumbled to himself. He had just realized that he had forgotten to visit his family. He quickly chugged what was left of his drink and then scrambled out of his chair and out of the hotel. It was hell getting a taxi since the busy streets were crowded but he succeeded. It took him a full half hour to go a couple blocks to where his family were located thanks to the traffic. He could've gotten there faster if he'd just walked.
When he'd arrived he knocked without answer. He tried a couple more times but there was no answer. "Where the hell are they? Did I miss them again? Did they move?" He asked himself then shook his head. "No.. They would've sent me a letter saying so." Like all soldiers in the war they had sent letters and received replies, there was certainly nothing wrong in his last letter. Shawn gazed across the street and saw a small diner. He might as well had some breakfast while he waited for his family to arrive. They were in clear view across the street.
(Long filler, sorry.)
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Post by Jo on Sept 23, 2007 18:23:17 GMT -5
Changing into her "street clothes" the woman, finished her gig and recieved her check. Fifty bucks. Not bad for two days she guessed. Thank god that sleeze ball of a manager could actual find her actual gig for her to pay rent and foor with once a month or she'd murder him. That reminded her of what happened late last night that american girl.
The man she spoke to before seemed familiar. No it couldn't be? What were the chances of that man being related to the dead girl? A million to one, her alcoholic brother would have said then hiccupped.
" To be in the land of the free" she murmured lowly. Walking into the day lit street, New York in all of it's glory. Mean, racist, sexist. If you could possibly think it, it'll probably be somewhere in the city.
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Post by B on Nov 7, 2007 0:29:39 GMT -5
Hours past and still nothing. He tried the door again then he decided he'd break in. Maybe they had moved, either way, it was obvious no one lives there or they'd be home right now. You hardly found working men without wives in these times. He waited until the coast was clear then shattered a window. Reaching into the house and unlatching the door he opened it and entered. The place was a great big pile of crap. The stench made him gag but he fought it. What was that awful smell? It didn't take him long to notice a dead cat. Must've got crushed with the table randomly collapsed. There were many notes lying around. He began to read them and what he read made his eyes grow wide in disbelief...
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Post by D on Nov 7, 2007 1:20:55 GMT -5
"Who the fuck do you think I am?" A man asked, while holding a cigar between his teeth. His dark brown hair was neatly combed back with a few gray hairs. Tony glared at the cringing man in front of him with infuriated dirt brown eyes. He seemed to snarl at the man. "T-tony Mc-McLaren." "What?" "Tony McLaren!" Tony closed his eyes and sat back down in his comfortable office chair. He dusted off parts on his black suit and adjusted his matching tie, before checking his neatly pressed white shirt and shiny, black shoes. If he went to the police department, he would have probably recognized as a gangster and killed, but then again, he did have a somewhat famous name.
Tony folded his hands together before turning around in his chair to face the man. "So...you want you want to fight in the war?" He asked rather calmly. The man nodded slowly, afraid of what could happen. "Do you realize what could happen to you? You can get killed or be recognized as one of my men. We're family, Lloyd. You're my younger brother...I can't let you go out there..." He took a deep breath and Lloyd looked up. "But Tony...I thought you hated the war. You said that it didn't help bring in the money and we're losing people 'cause of it. We can't do no more big crimes, like you said." Tony nodded and took out his cigar. "Lloyd, Lloyd, Lloyd...Precious little Lloyd. Ma always said you were the smart one...and would make a better living. Ma...I never liked her."
Lloyd looked up at Tony and began to cry. "Please, Tony! Don't do nothing to Ma! Don't do nothing!" He shouted. "If you kill her...I'm going to--" "What Lloyd? What the fuck will you fucking do to me you little asshole? You don't know nothing! You got your sad ass loved. What did I get? I got nothin'! Nothin' at all!" The two siblings shouted at each other for a short while, before three gunshots rang out. Tony spat contemptuously at the body of his dead brother and unwrapped the handkerchief from the gun, before dropping it next to Lloyd. "That's what you get...You get three shots in your head for trying for the war...I don't see anything you can gain from it...seems no one ships anything worth while anymore." With that, Tony walked out of his office and the warehouse, and entered a black car. "Take me away Charlie."
His driver nodded and adjusted the mirror. "Your wife called. She wants you home for dinner. Maybe you should pay her a visit...or you could meet up to prepare for the cigarette load. $500,000 worth of it. You can up the price and sell it..." Tony grunted and sat quietly in the back, thinking of his murder. "I finally got rid of Lloyd. He got in the way too much...He'd be better off with the police if he were still alive that is."
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Post by Jo on Nov 7, 2007 1:39:04 GMT -5
It was easily four in the after noon, the biggest story hit New York. The death of Doris Smith A.K.A The Coal Diamond, the press already gave her a nickname. Seemed like she was another dead girl that was linked to several others. She was covered in soot, and coal none the less. What a cute little nickname for some ordinary girl. Of course they'd try and find out everything about her; but alter her life some how showing she was either some pretty little tramp or the victim.
The french girl stepped out onto the overcrowded street, everyone and everything crying out for attention. Merchants chanting to come to their shop and proudly saying the person beside was nothing.
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Post by B on Nov 7, 2007 4:02:29 GMT -5
Shawn was baffled as he looked into the page containing an honorable salute with his name being "KIA" Shawn could just imagine the emotion his mother must've went through, but so bad as to crush a table with a poor innocent cat? No, that stench, it was something else. "Mom?..." He called. "Dory..?" As he entered the small bedroom his face turned to a grimace. Rope tied firmly to an outcrop in the wall, the other end tied in an expert loop around the cold skin of the carcass.
This was all just a bit too random for him to take. He saw a note lying on the floor. He slowly edged his way over to the letter, feeling uncomfortable with the figure of his mother lifelessly swaying. He took the letter and scrambled out of the room. 'If this a joke to scare me they succeeded.' He thought and calmly read the letter. Suddenly, it didn't feel too much like a joke.
"I hav lost that I livd fore Mi to childeren hav dide. May god forgiv wat im abowt to do to miself. Shawn Doris mama is coming"
It was difficult to understand at first so he had to reread it, his mother always had been near illiterate but she tried. What the hell does this all mean? Did something happen to Doris too? The military must've mistaken him for being killed in action instead of wounded. He was coming home.. He even sent a letter..
None of that mattered, he had to do something about this mess now. He struggled to keep the tears from his eyes as he took note of the shattered phone on the ground. Shawn assumed his mother must have done it after recieving notice of something happening to Doris. Shawn ran across the street to the diner to gain access to a telephone to phone the police of his now-deceased mother, maybe they will also give some answers on what happened to his sister.
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Post by D on Nov 8, 2007 21:08:11 GMT -5
He stepped out of the car and was greeted by a police officer. "McLaren." "Fredric." The two men walked side by side, passing noisy merchants, and eventually passing the french girl. Tony took a small glance at her with some interest, but turned away to talk back to Conner Fredric, the lead in charge of getting Tony in jail. They lowered their voices. "The department has many suspects for the recent death in the papers. They have a singer..." Fredric went on with the list and ended with his name. "Tony. You. Or one of your boys really." Tony continued to walk and shrugged. "They know your gang's been helping out a prostitution place...and been killing the broads that don't cooperate."
At this, Tony cocked his eyebrow. "Broads? I assure you....we don't kill women. They can be the best money makers in all of New York if you know what I mean. Besides, murdering is usually not good for getting money." Fredric looked up at Tony and walked in front of him. "Fredric, how much do you want? Five grand?" Fedric stopped and turned. "Ten." Tony nodded and then shook hands. "Good things come to people like you." He whispered into the officer's ear, before walking away.
"I have to meet up with a few big names. They want my protection." He chuckled and continued to walk. Tony had a few minors things to attend to and the rest of the day would be a day off. It seemed that a life of crimes was an easy life for him.
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Post by Jo on Nov 10, 2007 23:41:58 GMT -5
She stopped by this small but very busy pizzaria, owned by this nice old italian couple. They were adorable, yet they always tried to play matchmaker with their son, always trying to set the two on dates. She offered to waitress today, she figured an extra five bucks was definately worth it. A more then generous offer in any opinion especially during the depression.
She smiled as the elderly woman Maria came to her and hugged her, kissing each cheek twice. As that was her hometown's custom her learned a while back.
" Your so thin, get some meat on your bones. Let me make you something before you startworking" she happily said. Again the singer declined the kind action but said she prefer to help now then worry about food.
The hours seemed to pass on by; serving the construction workers, the business men, families and the sort.
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Post by B on Nov 11, 2007 1:17:42 GMT -5
Shawn sat nervously in the diner waiting anxiously for the police. When they came they had asked alot of questions to him before going to his house. When he told that his sister was Doris they had looked at each other wide-eyed. They decided not to tell him yet and they went to the scene where the dead mother was. Before long they had taken Shawn to the station for further questioning.
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Post by D on Nov 12, 2007 2:04:56 GMT -5
"So do you think they'll blame the girl's death on me?" Tony asked his driver. "Don't know. I ain't your connection to the department." He sighed and looked out the window, before gasping. "There! Stop!" The driver quickly stopped and grinned. "Tony, why?" He laughed and asked the driver for a cigar. "Just because they owe me money. I gave some to them some time back..." Tony got out of the car once more and and entered the pizzeria.
Some people stopped everything and looked at him, and others continued on with their business, but Tony didn't care too much. "Hey, you can't smoke in here! See the sign?" He looked back at the door and nodded. Charlie came in and he handed the cigar to to the man to dispose of. "So where's the owners?" Tony asked, watching Charlie smash the cigar with his foot. "Clean that up." He ordered his driver, before looking around again. "Hey," Tony called out to the waitress/singer, "Where are the owners? I gots to talk to them. Important business."
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Post by Jo on Nov 18, 2007 19:07:19 GMT -5
She handed slowly put down a plate of pizza onto the wooden table. Talking a bit with the customers, even during the depression people still found time to buy simple things that they didn't really need. She turned around when she found out that the man was talking to her.
" Oh I am sorry sir but they are not in at ze moment. They are at the market. But I could leave them a message if you would like. what's your name monsieur?". She quickly wrote what he said, messing but legible enough for her. Writing wasn't one of the singer's strong points.
She smiled lightly at the man, she didn't really care for his type. A self-made man who could buy anything in the world. Who used fear and intimidation one those who stood in their way.
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