OOC: No problem Zetsumi… and for everyone really. Don’t feel you have to post every day, I understand that a lot of people will have homework, other rpgs, and will be swamped with other things they need to do on occasion. The rpg shouldn’t be a source of stress or anything, just fun. Just at least a post every few days or so if possible would be nice so I know people are still interested… (though obviously it’s great if there are more). I’d rather see good posts then rushed ones.
I’ll probably edit in an at least an Akila post later tonight or tomorrow… IC.
--
The key was finally in hand, but Mara’s relief was short-lived. The two in the front seat were stirring and she clearly hadn’t been paying enough attention to Locke, not that it would have done much good anyway. She drew a sharp intake of breath as he twisted her hand back, leaning closer and speaking softly so the two in the front did not hear. He could break her wrist if he wanted to. Her dark eyes flashed in irritation, but she grudgingly nodded.
Mara hadn’t expected that the bounty hunter would have them hitchhike after she screwed up his car. She had assumed that they’d wait until he could get another mode of transportation or something, but since she miscalculated, there were other people at risk. Locke wouldn’t shoot her, not if he wanted his money, and Mara wasn’t sure he’d go so far to break her wrist either, but possibly. She hadn’t spoken to her father in two years and at this point he might not care so much the state that she was in when she was brought back, so long as she could heal. Maybe that didn’t even matter. Mara had seen her father cold-heartedly place a gun to her mother’s head over some small defiance. Despite his threats, he hadn’t shot her, though he cold-cocked her with the butt of gun and left her lying on the floor in a small pool of blood. His gaze wandered directly to the place where Mara was hiding near at the top of the stairs, meeting her eyes, but he said nothing, and simply walked away. That night, when her mother came in to read to her, she had stitches and brushed off any of Mara’s questions. She hadn’t known that Mara had been watching. The following day, Mara’s father extravagantly had ten dozen red and white roses delivered to her mother as a form of apology. Eventually though, her mother caused too many problems, or perhaps Desmond Abrigia simply stopped loving her, no matter, one night her mother was there, tucking her into bed, the next she was gone. The job hadn’t been handled personally, Mara knew that much. Mara had been forced to hold her father’s hand throughout the funeral, listening to false condolences, in order to help to project the image of her father as a dignified widower. During the funeral and the wake that followed Desmond Abrigia managed to turn the whole affair into a successful new business merger because he managed to pin the blame on an enemy family and therefore ally himself with another mafia group. . Perhaps that had been the plan all along. Mara wasn’t certain what the orders were, but she knew that Desmond Abrigia looked at everyone in terms of what use they were to him and if a person outlived their use, then they must be discarded. He played the doting father only when it suited him. Furthermore, a lot could change in two years. Bottom line, he was unpredictable and therefore so was Locke. Though it was hard to tell exactly what he might do anyway. It was irritating that she hadn’t been able to shake his composure a bit more; Adrian Locke always seemed to have a backup plan.
She’d stall any chance she could though and this still seemed like a prime opportunity to get out of this situation. Mara lifted her left hand, the still key clenched in her fist, before opening her palm and stubbornly letting the key drop to the floor instead of into Locke’s hand.
“Get it yourself.” She mouthed to him. Perhaps she was being an idiot and might end up with a broken wrist to show for it. She was still testing him still, it was probably important to know his snapping point. She hadn’t found it yet. It wasn’t a complete defiance anyway as she had after all let go of the key. Turning her head slightly, Mara tried to keep her voice casual as she spoke louder to Jenna and Alex.
“You guys ok?”
I’ll probably edit in an at least an Akila post later tonight or tomorrow… IC.
--
The key was finally in hand, but Mara’s relief was short-lived. The two in the front seat were stirring and she clearly hadn’t been paying enough attention to Locke, not that it would have done much good anyway. She drew a sharp intake of breath as he twisted her hand back, leaning closer and speaking softly so the two in the front did not hear. He could break her wrist if he wanted to. Her dark eyes flashed in irritation, but she grudgingly nodded.
Mara hadn’t expected that the bounty hunter would have them hitchhike after she screwed up his car. She had assumed that they’d wait until he could get another mode of transportation or something, but since she miscalculated, there were other people at risk. Locke wouldn’t shoot her, not if he wanted his money, and Mara wasn’t sure he’d go so far to break her wrist either, but possibly. She hadn’t spoken to her father in two years and at this point he might not care so much the state that she was in when she was brought back, so long as she could heal. Maybe that didn’t even matter. Mara had seen her father cold-heartedly place a gun to her mother’s head over some small defiance. Despite his threats, he hadn’t shot her, though he cold-cocked her with the butt of gun and left her lying on the floor in a small pool of blood. His gaze wandered directly to the place where Mara was hiding near at the top of the stairs, meeting her eyes, but he said nothing, and simply walked away. That night, when her mother came in to read to her, she had stitches and brushed off any of Mara’s questions. She hadn’t known that Mara had been watching. The following day, Mara’s father extravagantly had ten dozen red and white roses delivered to her mother as a form of apology. Eventually though, her mother caused too many problems, or perhaps Desmond Abrigia simply stopped loving her, no matter, one night her mother was there, tucking her into bed, the next she was gone. The job hadn’t been handled personally, Mara knew that much. Mara had been forced to hold her father’s hand throughout the funeral, listening to false condolences, in order to help to project the image of her father as a dignified widower. During the funeral and the wake that followed Desmond Abrigia managed to turn the whole affair into a successful new business merger because he managed to pin the blame on an enemy family and therefore ally himself with another mafia group. . Perhaps that had been the plan all along. Mara wasn’t certain what the orders were, but she knew that Desmond Abrigia looked at everyone in terms of what use they were to him and if a person outlived their use, then they must be discarded. He played the doting father only when it suited him. Furthermore, a lot could change in two years. Bottom line, he was unpredictable and therefore so was Locke. Though it was hard to tell exactly what he might do anyway. It was irritating that she hadn’t been able to shake his composure a bit more; Adrian Locke always seemed to have a backup plan.
She’d stall any chance she could though and this still seemed like a prime opportunity to get out of this situation. Mara lifted her left hand, the still key clenched in her fist, before opening her palm and stubbornly letting the key drop to the floor instead of into Locke’s hand.
“Get it yourself.” She mouthed to him. Perhaps she was being an idiot and might end up with a broken wrist to show for it. She was still testing him still, it was probably important to know his snapping point. She hadn’t found it yet. It wasn’t a complete defiance anyway as she had after all let go of the key. Turning her head slightly, Mara tried to keep her voice casual as she spoke louder to Jenna and Alex.
“You guys ok?”
Last edited:
