no more games.

{ i may or may not have thought i already posted this. whoops. pretend its 06/16/16 again }

Location: Affordable Lock's back room
Characters: Sam Thompson, Mars Murdock, Tomas Esteban, Adam Byrne - special guest stars Molly Byrne & Mikaela Holden



paradise and sin: How long had it been since Sam was straight up street snatched? That should be her what we call the escorts. Street Snatch. Three days. No one came to her for the first several hours, until Rod showed up and let her down off the hook and took her potty -- might have even given her an M&M if she peed in it too -- but then back in she went. On and on like that, every few hours -- meals, water, bathroom. Knowing Sam though? She got herself gagged probably after the second time or so. In all that time though, all she'd seen were Rod and Silas -- the younger of which was holding a major grudge for the sucker punch she'd given him when she wouldn't just come with him to the van, little girl. Maybe he should have offered candy to sweeten the deal. Not a word from any of the supervisors, not even hearing any other voices other than those two in the back room beyond the door of that bloodied room. Sometime around day two, at the end, they'd stopped hanging her up on the hook -- didn't want the girl to lose a hand, did they? That'd just be rude. But, knowing them like I do, if she'd tried to kick at all, she only got her feet tied up for her troubles. Now! Day three. The wide-shouldered Adam came in through the store, just a few minutes before both Mars and Tomas were to meet him to take a look at his pest problem in the back. Dark gray shorts hung from his hips, and a black tee stretched across the muscles provided up top. All black shell toes completed his attire, and carried him through to the back room; nodding a greeting to Silas, who was probably texting bitches. Adam dropped down at the table in the center of the room, to wait. And probably started texting bitches. -d-


balanced shores: His driver remained in the Escalade outside, shiny black loafers with a little silver bar across the instep fell with a delicate lightness that seemed impossible for a man of his size. Crisp suit of a charcoal gray was the choice for today. Perfectly pleated, well tailored to his lengthy limbs, the pants barely exposed the black and lavender argyle socks underneath. That pale purple was repeated in the button down shirt and plaid silk tie. Coordination was the key to a good first impression. Adjust his tie, securing the smokey plated cufflinks in place, Mars made his way inside the store with an emotionless stare. "Mr. Byrne?" He called out in that accent that floated somewhere among South African, German, and French. Upon coming into view of the younger, more inked individual, his hands clasped at the base of his spine and heels clicked together. "I am guessing we are gong to be awaiting Mr. Esteban before we get started?" [d]


in walks death: Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Tomas was running just a few minutes behind the scheduled meeting, but nothing anybody would knock him for. There was a certain showmanship that came with what they were about to do, and as anyone who's been involved with Tomas in one of these events, he is all about the show. What's the scariest part about Hitchcock movies? The suspense. He managed to find the perfect in between spot when it came to clothing; black slacks and a crisp white shirt that made him look almost tanner than he actually was. He'd lost the sling that came as an accessory to the bullet hole in his shoulder, it still stung, but somebody had hooked him up with some prescription meds, and he was all golden from that point. Casually swung near his right leg was his favorite of his Louisville Sluggers, it was nice and worn in and his hands fit just right upon the wooden grip. He wandered into the shop almost on cue, just after his name was spoken, and the bat was tossed from his right hand to his left. "Byrnie." He said in greeting to Adam who was texting, and his eyes flickered to the taller, stranger, but he could only be one person. "Mr. Murdock," A hand extended for a shake. "Tomas Esteban, good to meet you." Wasn't going to be good for Sam in a minute, but that's neither here nor there.


Spots on a Peach: ~Three fucking days! Or maybe it was longer, to be honest...Sam had a tough time keeping track of things. All she really was able to recall just prior to the sudden darkness was that skinny fucking prick Silas touching her, for his efforts...he had a bright shiny purple black eye...and for Sam's, probably a concussion, Rod packed a hell of a hit. Worse still, she'd crumpled after the hit, but another blow to the head was par for the course. Nearly twelve full hours had passed before she'd woken to find herself bound with plastic cinched so tightly that it was cutting in against her skin. The only relief had been the occasional trip out of the room,e escorted by dumb and dumber. The first trip nearly added a broken nose to the list of Silas ailments, poor kid had got just close enough that Sam had taken the opportunity to head butt him...a painful lesson for both parties, since not only did it hurt like hell but Rod had followed up with another left hook that left Sam with a black eye of her own before being dragged back into the little holding room. Hour after hour of running her mouth saw the gag show up....her last spoken words had been something about pink fuzzy cuffs followed by ten minutes of muffled nonsense. Then there had been the flailing of legs that lead to hers being zip tied together, only to be dumped back in the corner of the little room to wait...for what? She knew. Being locked up left a person a lot of time to think, and logic spelled this out ending only one way...thankfully there was a bit of peace in knowing. And so she sat...at the moment, sleeping with her back propped up against the wall, tied hands, tied legs, and gagged...was not very promising at all.~(D)


paradise and sin: A genuine grin stretched across his face at the arrival of Mars Murdock, and Adam called out a, "Back here", to not only let Mars know to come through the open door that lead into the backroom, but to let Sam know he was there too. The text message to let Moll know what was going on ( no secrets after all ) was paused for the moment as the brawn of the African man came into view, and Adam stood. "Mars, good t'fuckin' lay eyes on ya finally." Tomas came in, in lieu of Adam having to answer the question, but he did so regardless. "She's one of his, so I thought it might be best to let the man run point on a thing like this. Been trouble since the start, and while I'd hoped invitin' her into the fold might calm her little pit bull ass down, it's only fueled her. Full o' herself, this one. But my boys have been treatin' her right nicely, if I do say so." And he was saying a lot. With no further ado, he gave a nod to Silas to hop too -- and the scrawny lank of a teenage boy opened the door to the macabre room that Sam's called home for three nights passed, and let the light shine on in through the dark. Adam sat again, sprawled really -- king in a metal folding chair throne, and picked his phone back up to complete the text to his sister. -d-


balanced shores: A quick little quirk of a slender brow at the tan man calling out to Adam in such a way. When looked upon and offered a hand, the left corner of his lips lifted up ever so slightly. One dark hand reached out, a firm but fleeting shake offered to Mr. Esteban. "Pleasure, Mr. Esteban..." And then he turned on a slight heel and focused on Adam. "Hm. Well, I shall say she has been a bit of trouble for me as well. You know how much I hate losing money. And I do tend to believe my employees. I shall be interested in seeing what she has to say, but I will most assuredly allow you both your due with the young lady." The door was opened and he stood most likely right in the line of light, creating an imposing shadow with his tall, thick frame. It lasted but a moment, fore he stepped off to one side and extended a gesture to allow the others in first. "Please, after you both..." Meanwhile, Molly was advocating for making sure Adam taught Sam the rules.... [d]


in walks death: It's always good to exchange handshakes before you really hurt a complete stranger in someone's presence. "Likewise." He echoed with a solid nod, taking his hand back from the larger man and the bat was put back into his right hand, slinging it up to rest on his shoulder like he was preparing to go up to bat. He listened to Adam explain the situation, and the Puerto Rican huffed, and shook his head. "Fucking thorn in my thigh since the second I laid eyes on her..." Almost literally. He pointed at Adam with the butt of the bat. "I blame you for this one." Simple as that. The man smirked a little, but that smirk faded back into his usual stoic expression when Mars mentioned his money lost, and Tomas nodded, slipping his hand through the wild waves of black hair on his head. "Yeah, we're going to have a discussion about that, too. Pretty much got a list of bullet points all up here." Pointing at his own head. Adam's attention to Silas brought his eyes to the kid and he requested with a little more flare than was really required. "String the bitch back up for me." There was a pinata joke to be made somewhere, but I wouldn't recommend making it. Oh, and Silas did as he was told and treated Sam like one of her own slabs of meat back at the butcher shop and hung her back up by her wrists.


Spots on a Peach: ~Well, there were people outside the room...but Sam was blissfully oblivious, seemed being held captive really took a lot out of a person, not to mention that sleep provided a bit of respite from reality. Alas, there was no being oblivious to the sound of the door, no matter how subtle (though it was probably a rusty squeak for dramatic effect) nor the sudden flash of light that caused lashes to flutter open, blink several times, then squint in an attempt to adjust. No sooner and she found herself being dragged up by her wrists...which considering her legs were bound, required a bit of extra effort, though Silas probably didn't care that the strain he was putting back on her already aching wrists. He earned himself a muffled earful, but it was to no end. And then he was moving off back out of the room, leaving the door open for Sam to get a good look at the trio that had gathered, of course she knew Adam and Tomas, the stranger...not so much, though it really didn't matter, did it? There was no more muffled talking, just a squinty glare out into the light.~(D)


paradise and sin: Yeah, yeah, Moll. The "rules." Tossing his phone to the table, Adam moved the few feet it would take to put him shoulder to shoulder with the other two, facing Sam hanging there in the closet now. "Well, good mornin' to ya, sunshine," his lilt greeted, but then he ignored her completely to regard Mars. "You'll like this. Watching Esteban work is a thing of beauty." Strong arms crossed over his wide chest, and he grinned again. Fairly grinny today. Good mood today. Let's do work, SON. -d-


balanced shores: Knowing how these sorts of events tend to work out, Mars was standing to the side, unbuttoning his suit jacket and hanging it neatly on the back of one of those table chairs. When Adam alluded to the idea that Mars may in fact enjoywhat he is going to witness, the Irishman was met with a full on grin. There was a touch of playfulness in his eyes as he undid the buttons of his sleeves. "Oh, Mr. Byrne, from what I have heard this is going to be quite a show. I am honored to be here, you know that." [d]


in walks death: Tomas stood back a moment, tilted his head to the right till there was a satisfying pop in his neck, the repeated the action to the left. Ooh, yes, it was going to be quite the show. "Gentlemen," The Puerto Rican said on his walk through the threshold, clapping Silas on the shoulder on his way out. Black eyes settled upon Samantha's dirty, rangy frame as she hung in the center of a disgusting room, kept that way on purpose. His head cocked to the side, not unlike a bird of prey looking for a kill. "You ever work at Wal-Mart, Samantha?" The bat was tapped casually upon his shoulder and he continued forward, by far the least visually intimidating mother fucker in the room, but he carried the air of a man who carried a big stick and could back it up. "I'm really glad you can't fucking answer me, but I suspect not -- hold this for me for a second --" And the bat came down to his hand, and he nestled it behind her head but in front of her arms like they used to do to captives when they were chained and barred up. Once the bat was settled, Tomas went about unbuttoning his sleeves at the wrists and rolling them up, neatly, to his elbows. "So I worked at Wal-Mart for about eight seconds when I was your age. Mi Abuela, she wanted me to get out of the business -- Tomas, you're so smart, don't waste your life like this." He rolled his eyes as if to say, grandma's, amirite. "Anyway. At Wal-Mart, they have this thing called a D-Day, stands for Decision Day, not Normandy. So what would happen after you've been in some trouble, talked to a manager a bunch, things like that. You would have a day off and really consider -- His hands came up and pulled the bat out from behind her neck. "Whether or not you want to keep your job. Change and attitude, change of hours, or turn in your blue vest and yellow smiley face and exit Wal-Mart with some dignity." He stepped closer, all but nose to nose with Sam, and the knobed end of his wooden bat tucked itself under her chin, and his voice came in a growl. "This is your D-Day, Sam."


Spots on a Peach: ~To the accent laden greeting, Sam offered a muffled one of her own...though it was probably a retort laced with profanity, then silence as sea green pools drifted from Adam, to the unknown face...then lastly to Babe Ruth who was casually strolling closer and closer, probably doing his best to look as menacing as possible with the wooden bat, but Sam didn't waver...she didn't look away, there was no muffled pleas...not even a sound, why? It wasn't like it was going to help her case at all. It wasn't until Tomas began to yammer on about his come to Jesus moment with Walmart. The lecture, for whatever insight or help may have laid in the advice, was met with a muffled response, Christ, just hit me already if it will shut you up. Didn't sound a thing like it, save for in her mind. Sass had to be expected, no matter how dire a situation she found herself in...for three days she had nothing but time to stew in her own anger, and now that those parties responsible for her current predicament (at least to the extent of literally being tied up) were present, she had her vent. And then he came nose to nose...oh how badly she wanted to crane her neck back and crack his face...but she'd learned from Silas, that shit hurt like a bitch, and there was probably plenty of pain to come. So instead, she had to settle for a narrow eyed glare, fuck their judgement, she been wronged.~(D)


paradise and sin: A hand disengaged from the tuck against his chest, to reach up and idly scratch at the scruff on his jaw line. Been too busy to shave. He watched the exchange, the advice Tomas was giving, and the way it was met, and vision shifted to Mars, as his phone began to ring on the table. "See, the problem is, she treats everything like a joke. Look at her now, faced with pain and death, and she's mockin' him with that look. Pathetic." A glance back at the phone displayed Molly's face -- but she was probably just calling since he hadn't returned his text. She could wait. -d-


balanced shores: That smile was gone in an instant. Tomas was speaking, and so fucking eloquently too, and being regarding in a manner nothing less than undignified. With no respect. At this point in time he cared very little if the skinny female had actually stolen from him or not, her gal and sass was not a welcomed sight to the overly proper and rule abiding man. Rules of the game, that is. Cuffs of his sleeves rolled up half way against his forearms - incase of spatter you know - and he just shook his head. "It worries me a touch. That those beneath both you and Mr. Esteban do not seem to know their place." [d]


in walks death: Tomas wasn't afraid of her or her defiance, and he just stared into her eyes with those shark-like ones. She wanted him to hurt her, and he was just going to make her wait for it. But don't worry. It's coming. He let Mars and Adam's words wash over him, but he barely blinked, barely moved. "He's right." More in regards to Adam than Mars. "You think this is some fucking joke, but I've been doing this kind of work since you still had to depend on daddy to wipe your ass." The bat's end moved, and he pressed it against the rubber ball that was secured between her lips and he pressed it a little deeper. "I'm done, Sam. I'm fucking done with this insolent bull shit. So this is how it's going to work," The ball was pressed a little harder, with the purpose of kicking into that gag reflex just enough to be uncomfortable. "You're going to take some much needed sick days and really fucking think about your attitude and the way you speak to people." Tomas could feel his own phone buzzing in his pocket, but for the moment, it was ignored. "And if you choose to come back to work for us, and work out of the Casino... things are going to be a little different. No more sitting at the tables taking all our money because.. news flash, moron, we OWN THE BLUE REEF!" The words were snapped, sharp and loud in her face, and he stepped back pulling the bat with him. "And if you're walking out with a pocket of cash worth eleven grand but only selling six grand worth of coke, we're at a five grand deficit." Simple math. The bat was swung then, vicious and unrelenting, and cracked the hanging woman hard, right above her knee.


Spots on a Peach: ~It was all a joke, but did that make her crazy...or them? After all, the definition was simply doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different response, to that end...Sam was certifiable. And so she continued to glare...the writing was on the wall, at least in her mind. They were just as crazy if they expected Sam to keep slinging after this...she was good, even if they'd never admit it. But expecting her to push powder, especially at casino, without sitting on a table was just daffy. Cards were how you made connections, and if they were going to take it away, there was no point...especially if Adam wasn't going to honor his end of the deal to cover partial loses. The Fuck You that was on the tip of her tongue fell short..mostly because the bat had finally swung...into her leg. The pain was jarring, just above her knee cap meant it probably didn't shatter her knee...but it hurt all the same, and was accompanied by a guttural muffled scream into the gag~(D)


paradise and sin: The real shitter of it all was, this wasn't a job you just .. were terminated or quit. There was no collecting unemployment, there was no finding a replacement job. There was just six feet under, if you were lucky enough. The less unlucky found themselves shark chum. So go 'head. Hold on to the deal made before there was an actual person to make deals with, this chocolate wonder at his side. Fucking phone was chirping again, Molly's face once more, and Adam's jaw grit some. Bleedin' heart of hers. "You know, Mars, m'man, it worries me too. Lucky are we, she'll prove a good lesson for the rest." -d-


balanced shores: The flat line of his lips started to dip downward, hands pressing against the hips of his pants. The eyes on this one spoke volumes. There was nothing but insolence and pride on her features and it insulted Mars. There was a shake of his head.. and at all the phones ringing, the older man pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I came all this way to work with nothing but amateurs, Mr. Mederos is going to owe me more than just shares of Blue Reef..." [d]


balanced shores: Meanwhile.. MOLLY KEPT DIALING. [d]


in walks death: It worked on Ernesto... a couple broken bones, and the kid fell RIGHT in line. It could work with her. He didn't really want to kill Sam. She had potential, tenacity -- he didn't care for her -- but there were plenty of people out there that didn't care for him. His phone was insistent in his pocket, but his eyes were still on Sam. "You'll get an allowance to gamble with... play to your heart's content, sling your smack... and then at the end of the night, you take your winnings to the cashier.. cash out... and they keep your cash -- wins or losses --" The bat swung again with the same power and sharpness behind it, and a second time until he heard a familiar, yet sickening CRACK in her thigh -- however many hits it took to snap her femur in two. "and if not I will break EVERY GOD DAMN BONE IN YOUR BODY --" The phone again. "JESUS what the fuck," The other two men were ignored, and Tomas literally whipped the bat at Sam -- it may have cracked her in the face -- and he yanked his phone from his pocket. It was Mikaela, there were three or four missed calls already. He swiped the screen to activate the call and answered in a terse. "I'm kind of in the middle of something, so this better be important." It was important. "Wait, wait, stop, slow down. I can't understand you..."


Spots on a Peach: ~The pain was excruciating, but that was the point...it literally left her gasping and seething into the gag as the range of emotions wrecked havoc on her body. Anger, hatred, pain and agony all rolled into one tidal wave of emotion that left her simultaneously on the verge of sobbing, and hysterical laughter...it didn't even make sense in her mind why the need to laugh was there, it certainly wasn't a laughing matter, maybe she'd just snapped? Speaking of snapped...the second strike, followed shortly by a third that proved enough to snap the femur...the stomach churning pop of the bone was accompanied by an intense wave of pain...a body wrecked by fatigue and emotion, the pain was to much...eyes closed and rolled to the back of her head as her body went limp, at least being unconscious meant she couldn't feel anything~(D)


paradise and sin: "Don't worry, they're not all like this one," he assured the man, who was more than used to working with a particular caliber of professionals. The phone on the table was at it again, but Adam didn't move -- other than the frown that came when Tomas answered his. It wasn't the words that the man spoke, but the muffled sound of hysteric coming from the other end that could be heard. He whirled around, grabbing up his phone as it still rang and answered it, too. "Molly," was all he got out, before his sister -- far calmer than Mikaela -- was very quick to tell him in very specific terms what had just happened. Everything about the man went cold. Rigid. "We'll be there, sit tight. Shut her up, Moll. I don't care how." Ending the call, he whipped around again, and this time strode up to the room Sam hung in and grabbed her hands up now that she'd passed out from the pain. "WAKE UP," he shouted in her face, shaking the slight girl, and then flinging her to the floor. None to gently, he crouched over her prone form, slapping at her face just as insistently as the call had been coming in. "Wake the fuck up, you murdering piece of shit." And in case Tomas couldn't get it out of Mikaela? He looked up at the man. "Ben's fucking dead. Went into her room to fix a fucking bullet hole, and the door exploded -- him too." -d-


balanced shores: She immediately jumped into speech, "Addy.. it's Ben.. Something.. something blew up and there are pieces of him everywhere... I can't get her to shut up.. Fine.. I hope someone will reimburse me for the champagne bottle I just broke over her head..."


balanced shores: Well.. This was getting interesting. Both hands resting on hips, long fingers looping in with the belt of black alligator leather. Murder? Explosion? There was a touch of a snort and he turned to look away while he shook his head. "My, my, my... I might need to call my girl after such a disastrous evening." [d]


Spots on a Peach: ~Well, what horrific timing...as if her situation couldn't get any more bleak...it seemed it could. The explosive device that had been rigged to the door had been an act of paranoia after the first robbery at the Sea Dell Motel, and now an innocent person was dead because of it, though Adam was partially to blame...he had been the one to arrange the claymores purchase! As for Sam and Adams attempts to wake her, the body just didn't work like that...even being jostled around didn't rouse her from the unconscious state, all he got was a limp body.~(D)


in walks death: Kae was freaking out on the other end of the call, but Tomas worked out what was going on before Adam had to tell him. The Puerto Rican paled a little, and then CRACK he heard the bottle on the other end. If Molly picked up the phone, he answered to Molly. "Thanks, kid." And hung up the phone. Mars received Tomas's attention for a moment, the man's expression was a mixture of horror and anger. He wasn't going to kill the girl, but Tomas. just. snapped. The bat was snagged off the ground, and his hand snapped out to grab Adam's shoulder where he tried to rouse the girl, and all but shoved the man back before he two-handed the Louisville like it was a claymore SWORD not a mine, and swung it down over Samatha's skull as hard as he possibly could. It was an equally sharp crack -- one and done -- and Tomas threw the bat on the floor. "Let's go." Simple as that, no tears shed, no hearts broken, and Tomas turned and marched out of the room, pulling his keys from his pocket. He had no more time for this bull shit. She can still be alive!! She'll be way better looking than Terri Schiavo in the Coma ward. :wiiiiiink:


paradise and sin: Poor Kaekae's lil' head. Molly packed a hell of a swing - it was for the best though. Never in her life had she witnessed such a thing, and was starting to have a full on panic attack, and slipped a lil' in some part of Ben, resulting in more of a freak out that only ended when the bottle cracked over her head and she was down for the count. Much like Sam, when Adam was roughly shoved away and she took a skull full of bat. He rose to his feet, not even sparing the girl another glance. Hand clasped Mars broad shoulder. "Tell Nita hello for me. We'll catch up soon." Steps to the door, but he paused and turned to Silas. "Call in the cleaners, boyo, they'll take out the trash." And awaaaayyyy weeeee go! -d-


balanced shores: Molly, meanwhile, had managed to get Kae situated in a bar stool, resting her head on the bar, and was sitting at the other end... Drinking a beer and smoking. Yes, Molly was smoking a cigarette. DID YOU SEE WHAT JUST HAPPENED?


balanced shores: Mars just... calmly unrolled his sleeves, slipped his jack back on... and was in his car on his way to see his favorite little lady. [d]



Spots on a Peach: ~And that's just how some stories end...there was no time to think about what could have been had things been any different, there was no room left for remorse and there was certainly no seeing things with hindsight, though Sam probably wouldn't have done a damn thing different...the truth of the matter, when it was all boiled down...we can only be who we are...even if it cost you everything. And so, with a final crack, the story ended...the worst part of it all, they had all just proved her father right.~(D)