The Gambling Gangster

Oliver Bolton. Owner of Snake Eyes Casino, Chicago, 1920. Gangster. Bootlegger. Romantic. [Independent OC RP & Hub Blog] [Typed by Amy]

[althoughidontplayfair]

“I’m on the rooftop with curious strangers...”

“...this is the oddest of summers.”

[memeasaurus-promptus]

Send me something to drabble about

A single word, a memory, a piece of the past that you’d like to see in greater detail, a scene between two muses. Let me write and worldbuild, pry into my character’s inner workings. 

[althoughidontplayfair]

[jasonmantzoukas]

Well, it’s pretty much I bake pies and wake the dead. I live a very sheltered life.

[althoughidontplayfair]

Quotes #41

Oliver: CRIME!

Mark: CRIME!

Robert: CRIME!

Thomas: CRIME!

James: NO.

[althoughidontplayfair]

I won't ever let you slip away From my hands, from my hands It's like I'm in a dream, when I'm awake Calling your name, calling your name And I'll keep reaching, holding on 'Cause I will never let you slip away From my hands, from my hands

[althoughidontplayfair]

[althoughidontplayfair]

You’re A Natural

[althoughidontplayfair]

ooc; Starter Call for all the guys!~

[althoughidontplayfair]

tardisinhumanflesh‌:

althoughidontplayfair‌:

Turning to her as she explained she wasn’t he one to play the harp, he nodded slowly. “Interestin’ choice…those are a lil’ rare…” He furrowed his brow in thought, snapping his fingers as he remembered; stepping across the room, he crouched down beside a cupboard.

“You mind if I ask what your job is?” he called, almost disappearing behind the door of the cupboard as he moved boxes aside in search of the strings. After a moment, he popped back up again, holding a small brown paper bag. 

“That was exactly what I told her! I even suggested wire strings would be better, but she was very persistent.” She huffed at that, not at all pleased with that certain fact. “She said that the strings do not sound the same, and that the pitch would be wrong.”

Oh. For a small moment she was silent. Somehow it never dawned on her that he would want to know her job. Then again there would be the conversation of payment, and she would just be stuck in the same position.

“Oh.. I.. ummm.. I just run her errands. Simple stuff. She is far too preoccupied in her own matters that she needs someone’s assistance. Most of the time if she ever needs anything. I am the one to do it!”

“Did you happen to find them?” She was quick to pose her own question to avoid any further interrogations on herself. Although the small excitement was there to think her search would be over so soon.

Nodding, Benjamin tried to imagine a proffession which would lead her to run so many errands for someone. The first one that popped into his head was that she was he maid servant for a wealthy woman in the inner city and that was what he settled with. Yet, something about her didn’t exactly pose to him that she’d be a servant. Perhaps it was how pretty she was. Focus, Benjamin. 

“Well, if it was her attempt at sending you on a fools errand, she’s gonna be very disappointed.” He plucked a string wound into a spiral, held in place by small metal clasps. “I just so happen to have a couple left. Not even sure where I got these from, if I’m honest.” There was a smile to his eyes.

[althoughidontplayfair]

tardisinhumanflesh‌:

althoughidontplayfair‌:

The smile lingered on his face, becoming softer as she complimented his playing. “Glad you think so…” he responded warmly. He doubed anyone had called his playing ‘enchanting’ before, but he was welcome to hearing it all the same. 

Tucking the stool under the piano, he invited her to come further into the room. “Harp strings…” His brown eyes flickered in thought, before his gaze was turned to the shelves stocked with brown bags that lined each wall of the room. “Lemme see…”

He shifted his way around the piano and to the other side of the room. “Beautiful instrument, the harp.” Standing on his toes, he reached for the top shelf and began rifling through a paper bag. After a moment, he placed it back and checked another. “You play?”

A light dusting of pink color graced Aethena’s cheeks. She could hardly say why, but it may have been the way he responded to her. Not many people were so kind to use that tone with her. Plus, it was nice to have her compliment taken rather than argued with. 

As soon as she was admitted further entry, Aethena was quick to join him. Her hands already clasped behind her back as she silently looked to the room filled with musical instruments. She nearly wanted to figure out how many people actually bought these instruments daily, yet she knew her thoughts would continue to drift. This was neither the time, nor the place.

“Oh goodness, no!” She laughed at the idea, though followed after him. “I could not play if I tried. It is for my.. umm… employer. She has quite a talent for it, and needed me to retrieve some more strings. Problem is she is particularly fond of the gut strings. Does that perhaps assist in your search?”

Turning to her as she explained she wasn’t he one to play the harp, he nodded slowly. “Interestin’ choice...those are a lil’ rare...” He furrowed his brow in thought, snapping his fingers as he remembered; stepping across the room, he crouched down beside a cupboard.

“You mind if I ask what your job is?” he called, almost disappearing behind the door of the cupboard as he moved boxes aside in search of the strings. After a moment, he popped back up again, holding a small brown paper bag. 

[althoughidontplayfair]

tardisinhumanflesh‌:

althoughidontplayfair‌:

Seeing her tense, he stood a little straigher to indicate he was fine. He felt ridiculous for having jumped up like that, but he had been startled by her appearance, welcome as it was. The shop was often quiet during the morning, becoming busier towards midday and the evening. It was a nice change to have someone to accompany him.

A chuckle escaped him. “Sadly, no.” he admitted, casting a glance over the violins and other woodwind instruments that were scattered around the back room. “The piano is my instrument…an’ I hope to think I ain’t that bad at it.” He gave her a bright smile.

“Oh?” That was new. “Then, could I ask what brings you here, miss?”

Now that made a bit more sense. As far as she was aware, not everyone was gifted with being able to pick up random instruments at will. Truthfully she believed it to be something in genetics. The way a mind worked to find the creativity and passion to bring out something beautiful. A mix of mind and heart, if you will. Of course, she hardly believed people would dare listen to a machine based creature with little understanding for such things.

“Oh no, it really was enchanting to listen to. I loved hearing you play.” Her gaze shifted for a moment from him to the piano. Maybe one day she could learn. Alas, she would probably think of it in terms of scientific equations or patterns instead of the passion part of it.

“Hmm?” It took her a moment to realize the question now given to her. “Oh! Right. Sorry. I am actually here to see if you sell any harp strings. I seem to have had a rough time locating them, and, well, here I am!”

The smile lingered on his face, becoming softer as she complimented his playing. “Glad you think so...” he responded warmly. He doubed anyone had called his playing ‘enchanting’ before, but he was welcome to hearing it all the same. 

Tucking the stool under the piano, he invited her to come further into the room. “Harp strings...” His brown eyes flickered in thought, before his gaze was turned to the shelves stocked with brown bags that lined each wall of the room. “Lemme see...”

He shifted his way around the piano and to the other side of the room. “Beautiful instrument, the harp.” Standing on his toes, he reached for the top shelf and began rifling through a paper bag. After a moment, he placed it back and checked another. “You play?”

[althoughidontplayfair]

tardisinhumanflesh‌:

althoughidontplayfair‌:

Over his years of playing, Benjamin had memorised a great deal of melodies, simply pressing his fingers to the keys and reciting bars and chords as if it was muscle memory. He lost himself in the music whenever he played, focusing solely on the notes and his fingers drifting between the black and white keys.

Catching sight of a shadow from the corner of his eye, he looked up in alarm. “Oh!” he cried, the stool scraping against the wooden floor as he abruptly stood up. “Uhh, sorry, miss…I didn’t see ya there.” There was a faint smile as she spoke to him, looking back down at the keys. “Not at all, I mean…it’s kinda what I specialize in.” His eyes hesitated on her gaze for a moment before he broke his transfixion. He was working. Had to remember that. “You…wanna hear more? This particular model has some incredible bass behind it.”

Aethena tensed at the shock she gave him. Mainly she found herself fearful that he should get hurt because of her. Count her relieved seeing as neither him, the piano, or the stool were harmed. She would hate to think of the damage done to any of them.

Her head soon tilted to the side, a smile quick to come to her features as she watched him. She truly only knew of one person that specialized in musical instruments, but finding another with a different talent was incredible! It only fed into the question now coming to mind.

“Does that mean you play all the instruments you sell here as well?” A soft, but nervous laugh came at his offer to play more for her.

“I would love to,” she admitted with the slightest shrug of her shoulders. “Although I should warn you that I am not here to buy a piano. I can neither play it, nor do I have the room for one of this size.”

Seeing her tense, he stood a little straigher to indicate he was fine. He felt ridiculous for having jumped up like that, but he had been startled by her appearance, welcome as it was. The shop was often quiet during the morning, becoming busier towards midday and the evening. It was a nice change to have someone to accompany him.

A chuckle escaped him. “Sadly, no.” he admitted, casting a glance over the violins and other woodwind instruments that were scattered around the back room. “The piano is my instrument...an’ I hope to think I ain’t that bad at it.” He gave her a bright smile.

“Oh?” That was new. “Then, could I ask what brings you here, miss?”

[althoughidontplayfair]

tardisinhumanflesh‌:

althoughidontplayfair‌:

@tardisinhumanflesh

There were always noises coming from somewhere in the music shop. The twang of strings, the whistle of a flute and, most commonly, the note of a piano key. In the back room, the repetitive sound of an ‘e’ key being tapped could be heard, followed by varying scales in pitch. Then, after a brief silence, a few chords were played along with a melody. It was unlikely Benjamin was going to hear the twinkling of a bell as the front door opened, engrossed in the tune.

It was always incredibly rare when The Siren wanted Aethena to gather something for her. Usually she wanted her near in case of an emergency travel. Not to mention ensuring nothing would happen to her. That seemed to be an occurring concern as of late, but she would be fine. She always would be.

Entering the pleasant music shop was the easy part, although it did take her a bit of searching to figure out which time frame would have her intended item. Now finding the owner? That was a bit of a challenge. Luckily the sound of a piano led her straight to the source.

Silently she stood in awe of the man’s playing. Music was still a strange concept for her to understand, but she could appreciate the melody and rhythmic timing. It was simply enchanting, and she almost felt bad for speaking up once he had reached a quieter moment.

“You play beautifully,” she finally said, smile immediately falling into place. “I hope you do not mind a small audience…” Or one girl watching.

Over his years of playing, Benjamin had memorised a great deal of melodies, simply pressing his fingers to the keys and reciting bars and chords as if it was muscle memory. He lost himself in the music whenever he played, focusing solely on the notes and his fingers drifting between the black and white keys.

Catching sight of a shadow from the corner of his eye, he looked up in alarm. “Oh!” he cried, the stool scraping against the wooden floor as he abruptly stood up. “Uhh, sorry, miss...I didn’t see ya there.” There was a faint smile as she spoke to him, looking back down at the keys. “Not at all, I mean...it’s kinda what I specialize in.” His eyes hesitated on her gaze for a moment before he broke his transfixion. He was working. Had to remember that. “You...wanna hear more? This particular model has some incredible bass behind it.”

[althoughidontplayfair]

@tardisinhumanflesh

There were always noises coming from somewhere in the music shop. The twang of strings, the whistle of a flute and, most commonly, the note of a piano key. In the back room, the repetitive sound of an ‘e’ key being tapped could be heard, followed by varying scales in pitch. Then, after a brief silence, a few chords were played along with a melody. It was unlikely Benjamin was going to hear the twinkling of a bell as the front door opened, engrossed in the tune.

[mushi-and-junior]

period moodboards: 1920s (masc.) (requested by anonymous)

spangled gowns upon the bevy of high browns from down the levy all misfits

[althoughidontplayfair]

TO MAKE IT IN THIS WORLD...

           althoughidontplayfair || thesolesurvivors || thetreacheroustraitors

                                                     ...YEAH, YOU’RE A NAT-U-RAL.

          independent || private oc blogs for 1920′s gangsters ||  typed by Amy