S. MORAN

      The agility comes from years of working as “payment collector” for her father and then her brother’s criminal empire. She’d been perfect for the roll because few suspected the woman capable of inflicting enough terror and fear necessary to extract payment and cooperation. She’d excelled however. Yet, Connie hadn’t done that in years. Not since Maverick had turned murderous and she’d fled. Now she was here, faced with the grim realization that Maverick had found her - and her neighbor was willing to kill him.

     That spoke volumes about her neighbor. 

                  “Half-brother actually.”

        her eyes tracked the path he nodded,  the expression on her features making a scowl seem almost kind.   ‘   an’ why th’hell would that be my problem?  they’re not,  an’ i don’t go sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong jus’ ‘cause some posh arrogant twat wants to throw his weight around.  ‘ 

           his mouth turns dry. i couldn’t pass for something cute, something sweet, something nice, something happy, something friendly. i’m dirty, i’m skinny, i’m bloody, i’m unkempt, i’m coarse and rough and unkind and rotten and stupid. no one pays any attention to another ugly mongrel stray roaming the streets. in truth, he likes it this way and wouldn’t change it. no envy rests in his heart, no longing for what some may call a better life.

           grudgingly, he takes the shirt into one hand, lets it dangle at his side. ❝ what do i need t’ do. ❞

O H D E A R —there is a small voice in his head which identifies as his very own Jiminy Cricket, telling him ‘no, no don’t hurt the poor man! He mourned you!’ Moriarty squashed that bug beneath his expensive heel && snarled. Broken people made him s o  d a m n  m a d, it’s why his mother ended up SO DAMN DEAD.

The figure of hell incarnate cruelly grabs the boozed up mutt by the hair && drags him towards the bathroom. “You know what we do with the damned, the ones who burn? We drown them. We put out the purifying flames.” –CARL appreciated the sentiment, Moran would too. The tub filled with freezing water && Moriarty quickly plunges the ex-sniper’s face into the shallow water. Uncaring if his nose smashed against the bottom. “’Cuz we want the tainted, we want the lost, we want a man who CAN FIGHT. BACK.”

                 “ ‘course you wouldn’t.” The taste of soap in her mouth is still a bit strong for her liking, and no amount of crinkling her nose and swallowing seems to be doing the trick. If he hadn’t been there ( and already finding her dislike for the stuff amusing enough ), she would have attempted to spit into a kleenex and gagged a little. But somehow she knows that sort of display will only come back to HAUNT her later on.

——– Not unlike the fact she’s just told him she keeps a steady stock of salt & vinegar crisps in her flat. She accepts the parsley with a scowl and pops it into her tote before pretending a cut vine of tomatoes is far more interesting. “I’ve already got a bodyguard, don’t think I can’t get someone to protect my Walkers stash.”

‘ i know that; doesn’t exactly mean i like people TOUCHING them. took me a bit to even get the blood off that knife, surprisingly. ‘

           “—Being a dick won’t make yours any bigger.”

     there is a roll of eyes that shine a grassy sort of green in the low light and a telling curve of her mouth and he may not be the most subtle of men but there is something undoubtedly charming about the way that he seems to press on, unconcerned with matters such as the PROPRIETY of it all. there is a hand held out for him to take, far more gentle, perhaps, than such a man might arguably deserve. old habits die hard.  “ i’ve got loads. i think you’ll be real impressed. ”

@tigermarked

“Why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” She had seen the guy staring at her a few times around campus, seen him at a couple of parties. Typical ‘ladies man’. There she was, just trying to study, keep her mind off her job, and yet this guy had to be looking over at her, clearly wanting more. “What do you want?”