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@adamrhcdes-blog
What do you think of the Selvaggios?
”Save for Lia, I’m not closely familiar with the family. I refrain from engaging in certain affairs on an intimate level therefore I can’t say I’ve formulated much of an opinion. Like most, however, I find them to be a powerful force.”
adamrhcdes :
Whatever the man wants, Nick couldn’t begin to guess and it strikes a strange nerve in him when the stranger suggests he appeared ‘West Coast from behind’. What did that even mean? He’d been a New York boy, born and raised - and he’s damn proud of that. To be mistaken for something he isn’t is almost slightly insulting. But he shakes that disdain off with a shake of his head and continues to mark down rides on the piece of paper from the map, which the intruder is curious about. “Nah, man,” Nick answers quickly, “My girlfriend wants to go.”
He smirks. Because if Eve were here, she’d immedietly follow up with the statement she isn’t his girlfriend. He almost tells her she’s right. She’s far from his girlfriend. She’s his heart.
Biting his tongue, Adam nodded. “Girlfriend,” he mused. “That’s nice of you. Is it her birthday or something?” Being a man of certain looks and charm, Adam had never failed to attract female attention. He’d had many flings, liaisons, and affairs over the course of his lifetime to the point where most of the women became merely faces with no moniker to remember. However, the one thing Adam never acquired was a relationship— a real one, anyway. His past lovers were nothing more than notches in his belt and he in theirs. While some remained more frequent than others, in the end, Adam’s interest would wane and every misguided women would eventually find themselves having never received a call back. Love, in any form, simply wasn’t in his nature.
adamrhcdes:
It didn’t surprise Lia when she was joined, she’d baited him after all. But she didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning to face him just yet. “For a second there I thought you were describing yourself. It’s usually you who gets jealous, no?” Brown eyes still clung to that look of innocence even if her brow couldn’t help but quirk ever so slightly at the question. “If that’s you making friends I don’t have to ruin things for you. You do that all by yourself.” With a shrug she turned to face him fully, the way she had to tilt her head irritating her irrationally. A pout formed on her lips slightly as he gave her the cigarette, spoiling her fun but she took it with light fingers before taking a drag herself. “Gin’s not my favourite.” As she said the words, a challenge lurked in her eyes as her hand drifted towards the ashtray, so close to putting the cigarette out just to spite him and turning on her heel to leave him standing alone once more. As tempting as that was, and well within the boundaries of their usual games, the need for company won out and after resting her hand on the bar for a few seconds, with a smooth movement she brought it back up to her lips.
“I won’t need to go fuck myself if you don’t watch your mouth. I can always go find someone to do it for me.” It was a low blow, especially when said so airily, reminding him of something she’d done a few too many times before. But then again the two of them never managed to play fair. There wasn’t room for it in this competition over who could get under the other’s skin most. They pushed and shoved but both were too stubborn to give up and surrender. After one more drag she extended the cigarette back out towards him, flashing him a smug grin. “Who knew you were so good at sharing.”
Adam’s lips curled into a smirk. Her words rang true: Adam was as possessive as he was intelligent. He’d attributed the flaw as a side effect of his overall nature. As a man of power and position, Adam had grown accustomed to the idea that everything was solely his. Furthermore, it hadn’t helped that he’d been an only child, further fueling his inclination towards selfishness. “In that case, I must’ve rubbed off of you. Or maybe, you rubbed off on me.” Ignoring her feigned look of innocence, Adam instead turned his attention to the bartender. Holding tight to the second glass, he eyed Lia with a glare as her finger dangled above the ashtray, nearly daring her to put it in. When she didn’t, however, Adam was anything but disappointed. “You’ll take what I give you.” Adam replied, sliding the drink her way. “As for ruining my own chances at making friends, you’re the one with poor social skills. You lack the capacity to interact with others in a healthy way. You drive people away, Lia. Thank god you’re hot or I would’ve never graced you with my friendship, leaving you with no one to take your privileged little trips with.” Blue eyes danced with amusement as he watched her. “You know, I could enroll you in some etiquette classes. They’ll teach you how to be a proper lady.” Despite his banter, Adam thought quite highly of Lia (a secret he would never reveal.) Not only was she strikingly beautiful but there was an aura about her which Adam couldn’t help but be gravitated to. Intelligent as she was sharp-tongued, he was fascinated by her, always enjoying himself in her presence. Because of that, Adam nearly choked upon hearing her sexual quip as he nursed his Negroni. He’d never been shy of voicing his attraction to Lia and willingly indulged in her games of flirtation. However, her words sparked a twinge of jealousy. After all, for all her coquettish teasing, Lia always left him dangling. Recovering, Adam gave her an easy smile. “I’m sure you could,” he agreed. Adam leaned towards her to the point where his lips brushed her neck. “But, two play can be your game.” Sitting back, he resumed picking up his drink with a convincing air of nonchalance. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me,” he teased, the words truer than she— or even he— knew.
.adamrhcdes :
The man’s dressed too nice for a dive bar in Venice beach, a thing that almost stirs nostalgia when it’s how he met Bruno Selvaggio over a decade ago. He’d thought he was an easy mark, but however clever or quick he thought he’d been, a cocky teenage kid had been no match for him at all. But even without his appearance, there are faded memories that at least reassure him he isn’t Initiative. A name might be the most he can summon now, the details escaping him because they might not be anything he’d ever known. Three years and too many vices might’ve blurred that knowledge even more, but it’s hard to say if it’s with hurt or amusement that he wonders if the man next to him knows who he is at all. From what he could tell, Bruno hadn’t been anxious to preserve his memory, and he couldn’t truly blame him for it. Regardless, his lip curls up in a crooked smile. “That’s not how barhopping is supposed to work, you know that right?“
Adam drew up a shrug. “I’ve heard that before. Unfortunately, it seems I’ve never been one to do things the right way. Not by my own volition— most of the time— I was just a born hipster.” As he regarded the man before him, Adam realized there was something familiar about him. He’d seen him before, he knew that much, perhaps even knew his name at one point. However, at the moment, Adam struggled to recall. Ethan, Eric, Elliot. Unable to shake the sense of familiarity, he chose to comment. “Have we met before? You look incredibly familiar and given my inability to frequent bars the right way, I doubt I’ve just recognized you as a regular.” As soon as the words left his lips, Adam remembered. Syndicate. Selveggio. “Elijah.” He tested the name slowly before repeating, this time with more confidence. “Elijah. That’s your name, right? I hope so or this might be embarrassing for the both of us— specifically me.”
adamrhcdes:
Deadend Bar was probably her least favourite of all the Syndicate haunts, too much sand for her. But she’d been finding herself at a loose end more and more, which never led to anything good, so the only option had been to leave the Estate before she raided the box she had stashed under her bed and gave into her addictions. So while it might not be high on her usual priorities, it’s far better than the alternative. The decision is made all the sweeter when she spotted a face that was more than a little familiar putting out a cigarette - a move that made her pout ever so slightly at the realisation her usual trick wouldn’t apply. Taking her time, Lia walked over lazily, for once not striding in her heels as though she owed the place. It was far too entertaining watching him approach someone with some bullshit about not knowing where Left Blank, which made her have to fight to hold back a scoff. “You might want to see a doctor about those memory problems, Rhodes, after all you managed to get to Left Blank from here just fine last week.” The innocent tone forced on to her voice was one that wouldn’t fool a single person who knew her well but it was probably just enough to convince the random spectator that she meant well. With a smirk, Lia brushed past Adam and made her way along the bar to order herself a drink without one look back.
Adam’s flair for memory retention had been something he’d always considered a gift. It provided him with the ability to remember even the most trivial of details. Yet, more importantly, it supplied him with the ability of recognition when prompted. Thus, when he caught sound of heels moving in a particular fashion, Adam knew well enough who it was. Despite the fact her strut had minimized to a stroll, Lia’s confidence was ineradicable. So, when she proceeded to shut him down, he was less than surprised. Excusing himself, Adam followed her path towards the bar. Motioning at the bartender, he leaned against the counter beside the striking brunette. “Listen, Lia, I’ve always known you were the jealous, possessive type but to ruin my attempt at making friends is a little demented. You want me to hang out with you, that’s fine, but do it like a normal female and ask. I don’t want to have to cut ties with you because you’re psychotic.” Pausing to order two Negronis upon the bartender’s appearance, Adam regarded Lia. Digging into his pocket, he withdrew a cigarette box and lighter. Pulling out a fag, he lit the end and took a drag before holding it out towards her. “Here: if you put it out, though, that second Negroni will be mine and you can go fuck yourself.”
The beach seemed like a good distraction for Eve to get her mind off of just how stale the air is out here when there’s little clue to who killed his friend’s father. She just wants to leave at this point and he knows she’s putting up with another few weeks here for his sake. Because he asked her to. It keeps him busy inside some sketchy bar a few feet from the grains of sand, a safe haven for mutants when he knows it’s Syndicate run, thanks to Eli. There’s a map sitting before him on the table, but it isn’t of any city. It’s colorful and cartoony, but he supposes that’s fitting for a theme park. He had purchased the park-hopper passes for the two of them, because it seemed like an appropriate day for rides and princesses. It sounds romantic to him and she’d punch him if she realized he planned it that way.
Jotting down a few notes on a pad of paper of shows they needed to see and rides she’d want to go on, Nick is interrupted by the presence of another. But he’s polite enough, shaking his head as a New York City accent betrays he’s far from home, “Nah, man. Not a local. Sorry.”
“Ah, New York. My mistake, you looked West Coast from behind.” Like many in his social class, Adam had spent a great deal of time roaming the streets of NYC. Summers were spent lounging in the Hamptons with weekend trips to the city. Even today his trips to New York remained fairly consistent. Thus, it was only because of his experience he had pinpointed the other’s accent at all. Glancing at the table, he noted the map and accompanying paper. Reminded of the deep stirring within, Adam indicated towards the map. “Theme park,” he observed. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a man of rides but evidently my perception is a little skewed. You have a kid or just one at heart?”
Seated in the corner of the Deadend bar, a cigarette dangled from Adam’s lips as he thumbed through pages of emails. Most were meaningless, holding little chance of receiving a reply. Dispensability ran rampant in his line of work and being the man he was, Adam never felt overtly inclined to deal with it. Not that he felt inclined to deal with much period, of course. Sending off half-interested replies to those which did indeed warrant one, he extinguished his cigarette and stood up. Fingers nimbly adjusting the buttons of his rather high-priced ensemble, Adam tossed a couple bills on the counter and approached a patron not too far from his position. Placing his hands in his pockets, he made his presence known. “You don’t mind if I ask you a question, do you? Great.” Without giving the chance for reply, he posed his query. “Do you know the quickest way to Left Blank from here?” The question was somewhat rhetorical; Adam knew perfectly well the direction of the tavern yet, he had grown bored and easy conversation remained preferable to restlessness. Thus, he contorted his visage into one of ignorance as he awaited a response.
