SPOTTED: πππππππππ ππππππππ in new york city! heard the ππππππ π πππ year old belongs to πππ πππππππ as a ππππππππππ πππππππππππ. word on the streets is that they can be ππππππππππ & ππππππππ, but they can also be ππππππππππππ & πππππππππ.
ππππππ.
name. alixandra bella harrigan
nicknames. alix
age. 34
birthday. june 14th
zodiac sign. gemini
birth place. malibu, california
father. conrad harrigan
mother. rosalie harrigan
siblings. eleanor harrigan
occupation. con artist for the reserve
affiliation. the reserve
ππππ.
Born and raised in Malibu, the daughter of a calculating media manipulator and a tennis champion.
Her childhood was a whirlwind of lies crafted by her mother, which was how she adopted her knack for lying and scheming. She fully believes the world works this way - that everyone lies for their own advantage and best interest.
Master manipulator, she gets what she wants and she has fun doing it.
Ran small-time scams all her life for fun, and somehow made a career of it.
As a con artist within the reserve, Alix uses charm, deception, and social engineering to secure information, assets, and leverage for the gang.
She can rig the casino ecosystem just as easily as they rig the bets. From the big fish to the smallest, sheβs got every name and net worth memorized and who should be sat at what table and who can access the higher stakes.
She navigates high-society circles as the public face of the casino while quietly running cons, creating false identities (can make anyone disappear or appear somewhere they never were), neutralizing threats, and manipulating rivals.
Every move she makes protects the empireβs interests and only ensures the house always pays the Harriganβs.
ππππππππππ.
Loves bubblegum and candy. Her favourites are cherry lollipops, pink starburst and all sour patch kids.
Cannot fight for shit - in fight or flight, her go to is flight. Unless it's a threat to her sisters then she's got a taser and sheβs not afraid to use it.
Fully believes in astrology - she'll ask your sign and tell you the planets movements before she asks your name.
Cries every time it snows. She DOESN'T LIKE IT. She misses palm trees and the beach.
Makes everyone share their location with her on Find My Friends - she's collecting them and calls them her little sims.
Only calls people on FaceTime. Soz.
Never got her drivers license so she ubers, makes family drive her or walks everywhere (its hell for her in the cold). She told Pierre to get her a driver but she keeps losing Dennis and his suburban (her own fault). She'll just get creative though - party bus, limo ride, whatever appears in front of her.
Talks really fast, she's going a mile a minute.
Her go to karaoke song is Britney Spears - Circus and Gwen Stefani - Rich Girl.
Makes a special little shared ritual with every person in her family. (ex. Alfie has the secret handshake). No two people have the same one. It's sentimental for her.
Has a ragdoll cat called Goldie.
In stark contrast to her sister, Alix is messy, though she claims its an organized mess because she knows where everything is.
Between the sun, the champagne and the joint he had just smoked with someone near the water, Cesar was feeling great. Finally at ease and he had found a good hiding spot for the treasures he had collected tonight. He just hoped he wasn't too drunk to retrieve them later. His smile was easy when he spotted Alix in the middle of the crowded boardwalk. "My only critique is that there aren't any jet skis. I was really hoping to jetski at this thing." He laughed as he thought about it, glancing at the water one more time before holding out his arm for her. "You want to go get into some fun? I think some of these people are taking themselves too seriously." He tipped his sunglasses down his nose and looked her over. "Very sexy, Miss Harrigan. Let's get drunk."
"You sound just like Charlie." If she had a dollar for every time someone said jet ski to her this year, she'd have enough to fund a live in sort of psycho therapist for Francis' grieving era. Or maybe she could just send him off to space and by the time he returned he'd be back with better blond hair. "Find him he's probably got, like, 3." One, for the record, and he treated it like a minor religious artifact that no one else was permitted to touch, but that wasn't her problem. "Stop, my boyfriend's gonna get all jealous." A playful jest and nothing more as she twirled a stray piece of blonde hair from the Pam Anderson inspired hairstyle. "Ooooh," pink glossed lips narrowed into an O shape at the mention of getting drunk as her champagne flute lifted in his direction. "You're late. I've already gotten there. We're playing catch up for you." Without warning, her arm hooked into place on Cesar's and was already redirecting them both toward the bar. "Where have you been all night, anyway?"
" do you think this is violating dress code ? " he looked down at his wrist splint. " i tried to find one that matched the occasion but everything was black or this weird grey. " however , he knew if anyone could find a great matching accessory it would be alix. he paused looking at the woman's dress , " is that intentional the way your dress , " he motioned on his own shoulder.
"Whether it is or isn't, who cares?" He certainly shouldn't. "Just wrap a handkerchief around it if it's bothering you." Delivered in breezy nonchalance for she had already moved past the concern entirely. An injury outranked whatever the hosts thought they were owed in terms of deference, and they could think whatever they liked about that. The Mob holding a chokehold on this city did little to quite frankly, zero work, on changing Alix's mind on that front.
The pivot to her dress pulled her brows upward before the shimmy followed, one shoulder rolling up and back down. "Yeah! Do you not like it? I thought it was cute." The way the lace contrasted with the silk of the dress. "Actually, don't. Don't tell me if you don't like it." A dramatic raise of her palm between them to stop him prior to his habit of saying precisely what was on his mind. "I have no change of clothes and I already changed seventy times." She actually did, but that would require her returning to the villa they'd rented for the week.
Parked at the expansive bar for the better part of fifteen minutes, he'd been ordering drinks for anyone close enough to engage in his antics. A little inebriated sure, but not belligerently so and Dominic had no intention of crossing the line into that realm during a crucial event for his sister. He knew how to pace a buzz long enough to make it last; to make it count. "If you see Celestina walking this way, can you warn me?" His jaw angles towards the nearest partygoer to his left. "I need to like, jump into the ocean or something before she figures out I showed up to this." Only a half-joke.
Dom and Don had a certain phonetic proximity once they hit her ear, largely due to the fact that on the scale of inebriation, she currently landed somewhere in the realm of Lindsay Lohanβs Mykonos era. So, sue her that for the last fifteen minutes, and for the remainder of the evening, she would be operating under the conviction that the Don of the fucking mafia was dishing drinks out like he had the prime VIP booth at Amber Lounge during Monaco's coveted F1 weekend. Therefore, the mention of Celestina produced nothing more than a laugh escaping into the white party air. Why wouldnβt his girlfriend be fully aware of his attendance?
"Roger that." A two fingered salute from her temple accompanied the words as the entirety of her response on the matter. She wouldnβt be on the lookout, not even if she wanted to because she couldnβt see that far at present. Truthfully, she was surprised Celestina wasnβt glued to his side like every other time sheβd seen the two. On the bright side, Alix could slot that as another thing that never would garner her concern nor care. What did seize the full and immediate attention of her senses was her drinks of choice, shots of Clase Azul, hitting the bar top. "You have to do a toast." The statement left her entirely serious, as her index and thumb reached forward for the crystal shot glass.
βπ’πβπ¬ π§π¨π ππ‘ππ π’βπ¦ π¬ππ²π’π§β this ainβt cool and all,β romy was mid-ramble, a few drinks deep and pretty high, telling alix what sheβd rather be doing while in the hamptons. βbut they got a state park with actual cold war bunkers around here. like, imagine how cool that would be.β she lifted a brow, glancing over at the woman she considered a softer, more nurturing version of her own sister. naturally, romy would rather be exploring wilderness and old war bunkers than attending a luxury hotel opening. though she had been enjoying the open bar situation. βdid you come here with charlie?β she asked, pivoting suddenly, drinking alix in with big hazel eyes. she looked, as always, devastatingly beautiful. βyou look really pretty. i like your dress. how the one sleeve, itβs, like,β she motioned, βit looks like itβs fallinβ off your shoulder. thatβs neat.β
" i'm surprised the scary twins , " that's what he was calling celestina and camila , " didn't paint everything white. they sort of have this mad queen vibe going on and it's totally fucking with me. " he paused leaning closer to alix in a loud whisper after taking a bite out a random strawberry he found. " i could've sworn the del castillo one wanted to laser my head off with her eyes. i could just feel it. " and he knew if it were possibly she would've unlocked that ability long ago -- evil queen and homelander all in one. he looked over to alix , " that thing , " he pointed at her purse , or what she called a purse. " is like a magician's hat -- what'd you bring ? "
Grasped between two fingers, void of any chopsticks or utensils in sight, another sushi roll - California, to be exact, for obvious reasons she favoured it - was lifted to her lips. Followed by another, and another - similar to a mini conveyer belt up all whilst Francis spoke. The only reaction came with her blue eyes rolling north to her peripheral to shoot him a funny sort of look when he pointed at her white Chanel seashell purse. "It's a limited edition. You want a what's in my bag edit? I'll give it to you." Was mumbled over the next sushi roll she was chewing through. Blame her lack of social manners at the moment on the fact it was Francis, but also the champagne she was plowing through as though it were provided specifically for her.
"For the record, I don't think there's anything wrong with you. I don't even think they're looking at you. That's just their faces. Never seen either of them crack a smile that's wider than the editorial smiles. You know those ones?" Never full teeth, she meant. The hand grasping her champagne flute gestured vaguely to her own countenance just before her gaze landed upon it and lifted it to her lips for a sip. "Hold this." The flute was passed forward, or rather shoved into his possession as she brushed her fingers off on a nearby napkin and then set her tiny sea shell purse onto the table, undid the clasp and revealed the contents. "Lip gloss, lollipops, starburst candies, mints," a pause, as she opened the tiny pink container and launched one (gently) at Francis' face, "ID, compact, perfume, mini taser. The essentials."
" hey cuz , " he called out to alix waiving her over. " do you think i have caterpillar eyebrows ? " he wondered knowing alix would rather offer solutions than actually just say what was wrong , or maybe she would just book him a wax appointment right there on the spot. he closed his eyes hoping to avoid the the obvious blow to his ego before putting his hand up in between them. " nevermind , i know what you'll say and i won't like it and somehow you'll end up crying. "
Blue eyes squinted dramatically at her cousin, leaning in closer to scrutinize the eyebrows in question. As she did so, the hand that grasped her fourth ( no, fifth ) champagne flute of the evening retracted backwards. "Why do you have a unibrow right now?" One likely sponsored by the Dom Perignon she was drinking like it was water. "No, no, it doesn't look like a caterpillar. Maybe more hamster." Her stance now straightened, a laugh slipping past her lips that was only dislodged by the the flute lifting to pass a sip before it lowered to her waist. "Oh, so I'm a cry baby but you have a hamster on your face."
The Hamptons emitted an entirely different vibe from Manhattan. One that produced a certain idea that finally reflected a solution to her homesickness for Malibu. The beach was no comparison, but it was a beach, regardless.
In celebration, she was well onto her third - or was it fourth - champagne flute, her hand had found a permanent settlement into the crook of Charlie's arm. "Can you believe there's no Mexican food here?" A gesture of her flute, sweeping and indicative, encompassing the entirety of the courtyard space and towards the restaurant. "Tells you everything you need to know about the cartels. Completely fake. I've been saying this."
She would be ensuring all relevant parties were informed before the evening was out. Eighty percent of attendees, at minimum. "The sushi is incredible though." Which raised its own questions as to why it was even there, but that was none of her business. "Is there, like, pasta? Have you seen any? The Italians make really good truffle pasta."
"Oh my god, you're so underdressed." Sarcasm laced her words as she approached Jamie, two champagne flutes in hand and one extending forth towards him. "You're not even wearing a tie." Which was extremely uncharacteristic of him and the general of attorneys, Troy Windsor, for the record. "No pocket square either." Both brows raised in dramatic faux shock. "Are you feeling alright? Feverish? The helicopter blow your hankie away?" In the next moment, she'd erupted into laughter, an upbeat lilt carrying her humour.
francis didn't even remember what he had originally came to see alix for , other than to drop the big news. despite everything going on around them --- life had to keep going. he knew romeo wouldn't have wanted him to just mope around , he had done enough moping and now it was time to try and spring into action ---- by spending time with his favorite non related blonde. " quick question , " he said , holding the glass of whatever drink she had poured him , a bit hesitant to take a sip , not knowing what crazy sugary thing she was into that month. " how do you feeling about weddings ? " he paused. " i might need your help planning one -- , " he paused. " for me. "
The sparkly pink swirly straw propped in the wine glass of diet coke was fashioned between glossed lips as she listened to Francis, her blue eyes widening in a performance of faux surprise. Truthfully, she's well aware there was no one more equipped for that question. Albeit, she hadn't responded right away. Instead, she took a drawn out sip from the diet coke, faking contemplation on the matter before she set the glass down entirely. "I love weddings. How'd you know?" Unbidden, her lips cracked into a faint smile she was unable to conceal. "I'll do it. But I have some conditions. And I want to know how you feel about an Elvis impersonator." She just felt it fit Francis' vibe.
" what do you consider big money ? like five dollars ? " harry attempted to hide the grin but it was a lost cause , his medication did make him a bit loopy and alix did always manage to make him laugh. he was honestly impressed at how she took up space in his hospital room , making use of every corner , all he could really do was watch in awe as she jumped , and twirled and did that weird thing with her hands. " wouldn't the self driving car and the robot that drives that car be counterproductive ? " he questioned , though he knew better than to question alix and her requests. " what kind of car did you want ? " that was a better question , at least for her. " you ? " he paused , pointing at her with his good hand. " you -- need to hack someone ? "
βHarry, please, think bigger.β Both hands gestured upwards in a measure of distance that only expanded before they dropped to her lap. βWell hereβs my predicament, okay? I asked Alfie for a driver and so he got me Dennis but Dennis has one of those big black suvs they use on uber and I keep losing him to traffic. So, itβs gotta be something I wonβt lose. Like, a pink Rolls Royce, you know those ones with the umbrellas in the door?β Sue her she thought it was genius. And Lisa Vanderpump, an LA icon, had one. βOr a pink G wagon. Iβll even settle for a pink BMW." A pause as her mind wandered to car models she knew before returning to topic. "Right. Yeah.. Someone called -" her hand found her iPhone, unlocking to refresh her memory before she scooted her seat closer to where Harry sat. "Suzanne McLean. She supplied the accelerant for the fires and I just want to know more about her. Her crimes worse than anything I, well you, could do hacking her."
βI think I'd have to take it off first.β She admitted with a small grin before fully surrendering the bag entirely to Alix's inspection. βAnd a key.β Ibiza, New York, the middle of the Sahara. Alix would appear regardless, not that she minded. The blonde was the only other person outside of Aslan or Esra that she'd willingly hand over complete access to her home without hesitation.
It was the mention of a gift that caught her attention. Charlie helping move it into the house did little to narrow the possibilities of what it could be. The fact it had then been abandoned in the foyer narrowed them even less. βYou got me something you can't name?β Unable to suppress the amusement that surfaced she pushed away from the island and moved toward the foyer.
"Okay, I'll allow it." Ibiza relocation, that was. Not that she had any true decision making power but, semantics. "Oh, I can name it. I can give it a million names. One being thingy that goes bang. But none of those names are the technical term so the dictionary definition of that thing continues to evade me." A continuous drawl left her as she followed Miray towards the foyer where the gift in question sat waiting. While the focus of her attention desired to attach entirely upon the contents of the Annie's Ibiza bag, she could find patience within herself until after she'd clarified the technical terminology of this gift, she supposed. But not a minute longer. "They don't do gift receipts, by the way." What could be mistaken as a joke was entirely serious. For there was no return policy on whatever the thing that was one step up from a bazooka was.
