(no subject)
*I got the a spitting headache today like people were screaming at me and for a couple of minutes I thought I was going crazy, this is the beginning of the story of the people inside my head. I'm very sorry if it's incoherent*
"This always seemed far more glamorous in the movies" Fallon thought to herself looking at him. He sat in a black jeans perfectly formed to fit him, with his 'shit-kicking boots' on. She smiled thinking about her dad saying that to her when she was younger and he was the only man in her life. But nothing else in this situation other then the boots he wore reminded her of her dad. A wave of nostalgia washed over her, but she quickly shook it off. Nostalgia was bitter sweet and in the long run worth very little. Not that she needed much everything she could ever want was sitting in front of her in 'shit-kicking boots.' His torso was bare with celtic symbols and tribal tattoos running from his upper back over his shoulders to this pecks and his arms. Those tattoos made his persona come alive. He was powerful, and dominant, and all together frightening. Men could have all the tattoos and muscles they want but without the aura to go with it meant nothing. Adonis O'Hea was born with the persona and added the tattoos and muscles.
"Come on princess, hurry it up," he spoke his voice rough, after many a battle cry, with a perfect Irish accent. It brought her back to the moment and made her stop admiring the beauty that he was and focus her attention to the girl sitting on the floor. She looked up at him beautiful green doe eyes, with brown wavy locks and lovely pouting lips, but it was ruined by the white power littering the end of that button nose. Her body however look exactly the way that power promised it'd look, all skin and bones with what must have been a designer dress draped over her. Fallon shook her head, 'this is her decision, who am I to make it for her.' The music pumped in the other room however all that was in here was a steady bass and the sniffing of wealthy beautiful women who needed their fix. She pitied them, but the ones she loved meant more to her then the people around aching for a drug dose.
Doyle sat across the room looking very similar to Adonis except his face showed enjoyment while Adonis looked solemn and less then happy. Adonis valued his younger brother they were all each other had left and although their views differed greatly she knew her lover would do anything to keep him from harm. She sat in the room with the two men she had known all her life and several people she would never know nor understand.
Adonis looked over to her and gave her a sorrow filled smile gripping her fingertips as they lay on the couch. The smile said worlds, "We need this, our choices are limited, as soon as I see a way out we'll run, run so far and fast the world will spin faster on our heals." He'd said it all before and she knew he meant it, but it'd been a long hard road here and although she lived comfortably now, she didn't want it at the cost, at this risk, with a personal debt hanging over their heads at all times.
They came from the streets of Northern Ireland, to say the least a messy place to grow up. Her father and her had never had much money but he provided for her the best her could without her mother, who fled after her birth. She grew up in poverty but she loved and Da'. He would say "Life is always worth fighting for Fallon every breath you take is worth fighting for." He made her promise that she would do whatever she could to get away from the cold nights and constant hunger. Many innocent people died in Ireland in those days with political strike after political strike, and one day it was her fathers life that was lost. People pitied the ‘poor little orphan' but everyone was willing to see her disappear into some orphanage. However the O'Hea's would not see that happen. With barely enough money to put food on the table for their own sons they took her in. She was 11 when she came to live with them and 14 when Mary and Roy O'Hea died in a protest in Belfast right before "The Good Friday Agreement" was signed. Adonis quickly dropped out of school and worked in shipping yards and taverns trying to keep the roof over their heads while she and Doyle went to school. They were best friends and family. When Adonis turned 21 he'd saved enough money to move Doyle, her, and himself to the states where they hoped for a better life without political battles and poverty.
Here they were four years later, they'd made friends in high places, and lived a rather interesting life style. They always had money but it was money that was covered in dirt. They lived in fancy clothes and in big beautiful houses. Problem was it could all disappear in moments if they didn't do what they were told. On the outside it was just another gang, another drug bust, fights and the occasional 'accidental' death but she knew better. Doyle's and Adonis' personality had helped them become very influential enough in the organization that they had choices as to what they were involved in. She knew this extended far from the streets of Boston to other countries and to people with an awful lot of power. The boys and her kept the cretins happy oversaw property and money and knew everything there was to know about what was coming in and out on a ground level. They boys would charms pretty girls with plenty of money and she would make sure everything ran smoothly. She knew Doyle didn't have a care, he was sick of poverty, sick of sadness, and sick of loss. Whatever would take him away from that world he would follow and Adonis and her were just as sick of it so they would go where they could and hopefully escape a world so filled with wealthy ugliness. For now however they would sell the someone else's drugs, over see someone else's clubs and just try and keep their heads above water.
The girl at Adonis' feet had finished her line and was running her fingers over his legs making him growl and sent the girl running. She watch out the window of the room into the people melodically swaying and enjoying a life she was so desperately trying to overcome. It wouldn't be like this forever she told herself. One day they'd all leave this behind and get honest job and Adonis and her wouldn't have to be afraid to love each other for fear someone could use it against them. Doyle would be happy in a normal life where everything he had wasn't owed to someone else.
As if on cue the room was suddenly flooded with men the same size as Doyle and Adonis. The brothers quickly rose to their feet making her quickly follow suit, Adonis pulling her close to his body as a protective instinct. The man to enter last was tall and brooding but, with the suit so perfectly tailored to fit made it very clear then he didn't posses the muscles to fill the tall body. Clinging to his arm was a sad looking little creature, she was small maybe 5'2 and her face made her look like a permanent ‘casualty-waiting-to-happen.’ Her skin was sickly pale with sunken dead eyes and thin lips. She looked exactly like every other coke whore they passed; never able to fill out the expensive outfits they wore. Every time Fallon saw her she made the secret vow to never become that, maybe that's what kept her away from the coke and meth and the expensive end of the clothing rack. She was afraid to have that dead look in her steel blue eyes.
"If it isn't my favorite three micks," he spoke and a coarse Russian accent looking her up and down.
"This always seemed far more glamorous in the movies" Fallon thought to herself looking at him. He sat in a black jeans perfectly formed to fit him, with his 'shit-kicking boots' on. She smiled thinking about her dad saying that to her when she was younger and he was the only man in her life. But nothing else in this situation other then the boots he wore reminded her of her dad. A wave of nostalgia washed over her, but she quickly shook it off. Nostalgia was bitter sweet and in the long run worth very little. Not that she needed much everything she could ever want was sitting in front of her in 'shit-kicking boots.' His torso was bare with celtic symbols and tribal tattoos running from his upper back over his shoulders to this pecks and his arms. Those tattoos made his persona come alive. He was powerful, and dominant, and all together frightening. Men could have all the tattoos and muscles they want but without the aura to go with it meant nothing. Adonis O'Hea was born with the persona and added the tattoos and muscles.
"Come on princess, hurry it up," he spoke his voice rough, after many a battle cry, with a perfect Irish accent. It brought her back to the moment and made her stop admiring the beauty that he was and focus her attention to the girl sitting on the floor. She looked up at him beautiful green doe eyes, with brown wavy locks and lovely pouting lips, but it was ruined by the white power littering the end of that button nose. Her body however look exactly the way that power promised it'd look, all skin and bones with what must have been a designer dress draped over her. Fallon shook her head, 'this is her decision, who am I to make it for her.' The music pumped in the other room however all that was in here was a steady bass and the sniffing of wealthy beautiful women who needed their fix. She pitied them, but the ones she loved meant more to her then the people around aching for a drug dose.
Doyle sat across the room looking very similar to Adonis except his face showed enjoyment while Adonis looked solemn and less then happy. Adonis valued his younger brother they were all each other had left and although their views differed greatly she knew her lover would do anything to keep him from harm. She sat in the room with the two men she had known all her life and several people she would never know nor understand.
Adonis looked over to her and gave her a sorrow filled smile gripping her fingertips as they lay on the couch. The smile said worlds, "We need this, our choices are limited, as soon as I see a way out we'll run, run so far and fast the world will spin faster on our heals." He'd said it all before and she knew he meant it, but it'd been a long hard road here and although she lived comfortably now, she didn't want it at the cost, at this risk, with a personal debt hanging over their heads at all times.
They came from the streets of Northern Ireland, to say the least a messy place to grow up. Her father and her had never had much money but he provided for her the best her could without her mother, who fled after her birth. She grew up in poverty but she loved and Da'. He would say "Life is always worth fighting for Fallon every breath you take is worth fighting for." He made her promise that she would do whatever she could to get away from the cold nights and constant hunger. Many innocent people died in Ireland in those days with political strike after political strike, and one day it was her fathers life that was lost. People pitied the ‘poor little orphan' but everyone was willing to see her disappear into some orphanage. However the O'Hea's would not see that happen. With barely enough money to put food on the table for their own sons they took her in. She was 11 when she came to live with them and 14 when Mary and Roy O'Hea died in a protest in Belfast right before "The Good Friday Agreement" was signed. Adonis quickly dropped out of school and worked in shipping yards and taverns trying to keep the roof over their heads while she and Doyle went to school. They were best friends and family. When Adonis turned 21 he'd saved enough money to move Doyle, her, and himself to the states where they hoped for a better life without political battles and poverty.
Here they were four years later, they'd made friends in high places, and lived a rather interesting life style. They always had money but it was money that was covered in dirt. They lived in fancy clothes and in big beautiful houses. Problem was it could all disappear in moments if they didn't do what they were told. On the outside it was just another gang, another drug bust, fights and the occasional 'accidental' death but she knew better. Doyle's and Adonis' personality had helped them become very influential enough in the organization that they had choices as to what they were involved in. She knew this extended far from the streets of Boston to other countries and to people with an awful lot of power. The boys and her kept the cretins happy oversaw property and money and knew everything there was to know about what was coming in and out on a ground level. They boys would charms pretty girls with plenty of money and she would make sure everything ran smoothly. She knew Doyle didn't have a care, he was sick of poverty, sick of sadness, and sick of loss. Whatever would take him away from that world he would follow and Adonis and her were just as sick of it so they would go where they could and hopefully escape a world so filled with wealthy ugliness. For now however they would sell the someone else's drugs, over see someone else's clubs and just try and keep their heads above water.
The girl at Adonis' feet had finished her line and was running her fingers over his legs making him growl and sent the girl running. She watch out the window of the room into the people melodically swaying and enjoying a life she was so desperately trying to overcome. It wouldn't be like this forever she told herself. One day they'd all leave this behind and get honest job and Adonis and her wouldn't have to be afraid to love each other for fear someone could use it against them. Doyle would be happy in a normal life where everything he had wasn't owed to someone else.
As if on cue the room was suddenly flooded with men the same size as Doyle and Adonis. The brothers quickly rose to their feet making her quickly follow suit, Adonis pulling her close to his body as a protective instinct. The man to enter last was tall and brooding but, with the suit so perfectly tailored to fit made it very clear then he didn't posses the muscles to fill the tall body. Clinging to his arm was a sad looking little creature, she was small maybe 5'2 and her face made her look like a permanent ‘casualty-waiting-to-happen.’ Her skin was sickly pale with sunken dead eyes and thin lips. She looked exactly like every other coke whore they passed; never able to fill out the expensive outfits they wore. Every time Fallon saw her she made the secret vow to never become that, maybe that's what kept her away from the coke and meth and the expensive end of the clothing rack. She was afraid to have that dead look in her steel blue eyes.
"If it isn't my favorite three micks," he spoke and a coarse Russian accent looking her up and down.