To survive myself I forged you like a weapon

#para #walks like a duck #ryan

She sighed softly, staring out across the lake, expression slightly sad. "Oh... I don't know. Mayor-land seems like a place entirely separate from me these days. I hardly see George these days because he's so busy. It gets lonely, but I'm getting used to it, I guess. What I wouldn't give to be busy doing something..."

She'd gotten into trouble simply because she had nothing going for her... and damn, did she know how to pick her poisons. She could still remember the smell of Giovanni's cologne, the way his eyes had been so dark in the back seat of that car that it didn't seem like any light could reach them. It made her want to shiver, despite the warm summer air.

"It's good that you've been getting out and about. You're a nice young man, Mr. Sharpe, even if you pretend you aren't. You should spend more time with people."

Sweet Nothings [Giovanni & Sarah]

Giovanni felt satisfied that she began to eat what he had ordered for her. Whether it was out of fear or out of genuine hunger, he didn’t know, but either way, he was pleased that she didn’t at least refuse it on principle. He supposed this meant that, if he were decided to be an asshole (which he usually did), she now owed the mob a favor. He filed that bit of information away for later, knowing it would come in handy—at least as a persuasive tactic, if nothing else.

"You could," he said simply, taking another swig of the coffee. He sat back and regarded her coolly, putting his hands behind his head. He’d already finished his sandwich. "You said yourself that you’ve changed internally. What’s stopping you from acting differently? I imagine your husband’s hardly around these days, what with all the campaigning he’s doing. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you were to misbehave.”

"I would suspect he wouldn't notice, considering my past behavior has gone unnoticed..." she said, and that was even more pathetic, that he couldn't even be bothered to notice that she was going against him if she wasn't doing it loud enough. She was so unimportant that she was no longer even on his radar.

She set down her sandwich, swallowing a bite before folding her hands on the tabletop. "I don't know what you're trying to imply, Mr. Macini... but you need to understand... I love my husband. I do... I've made some errors... I have misbehaved... but I do love George."

Even if he doesn't love you anymore? An unpleasant voice in the back of her head whispered, weakening her resolve.

"What do you want from me, Mr. Macini?" she asked, voice soft, fragile. "To play? I can't imagine I'm of any other use to you."

Sweet Nothings [Giovanni & Sarah]

Giovanni listened to Sarah speak with a kind of veiled amusement, one eyebrow quirked. He wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t done much; she didn’t seem like a woman of action, despite her position in the city. Hell, George had never been a man of action himself—he supposed uselessness bred uselessness.

"Nothing?" he echoed, trying his very hardest to sound shocked. “Nothing. What a concept. Here I am, running around like a madman and trying to keep this city from bursting open at the seams, and you’re doing nothing.”

The food arrived and he dug into his sandwich immediately. It was alright: generic, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if the cook spit in his food (he had many enemies, that was certain), but good enough.

"It must be nice." His eyes narrowed as he studied her, a slow smile creeping up his lips. "But it isn’t, is it? All that nothing. It’s a little like being dead, ‘cept you’re still breathing."

Sarah's lips thinned. He was certainly right about that. "Being dead is more useful, I would suspect. At least a corpse inspires a sort of fire in people, be it grief or an urge for revenge or guilt... I find I don't inspire much in anyone. Perhaps I never did."

She picked up the sandwich, figuring she might as well eat it since he'd ordered it. She wasn't hungry, but she hadn't eaten since yesterday, and it wouldn't do to go wasting away at this rate. George needed her to look pretty while he was running for office. Once that was done with, he probably wouldn't care what she did with herself, but for now, image was everything.

"Still, I suppose we can't all be as busy as you, Mr. Macini."

Sweet Nothings [Giovanni & Sarah]

There was something about this damn woman.

His eyes searched her face hungrily, drinking it in, trying to reconcile the pervasive meekness as it mingled with the fire he had glimpsed in moments, choice moments; it was that fire which kept him coming back to her. He wondered if she knew that.

"Either is fine with me," he began, his eyes glinting with mischief, "as long as you admit that you lived.”

His concentration on her face was broken by the arrival of a waitress, a prim-looking thing who took one look at his face and promptly looked like she would very, very much like to be elsewhere. Unfazed, he ordered himself a coffee (black as night and no doubt unsavory as only coffee at places like these could be) and sandwiches for both himself and Sarah, deciding on the spot that they were going to have lunch together. Sarah could cut him off short and end their date now, sure, but she wouldn’t. He knew she wouldn’t.

"So tell me, what has everyone’s favorite mayor’s wife been doing these days?" His coffee arrived and he didn’t bother to thank the waitress as he took the mug, sipping with disinterest. "Not getting into trouble with anyone else, I hope."

Sarah hadn't come to eat-- she'd only come for a cup of coffee and a chance to get away from the empty rooms of that godforsaken mansion she was always by herself in. She hadn't come to have lunch with Giovanni Macini either, but, well, here he was, and she wasn't brave enough to refuse him when she knew he could just as easily snap her neck if he wanted.

She didn't look at him, still staring into her cup, thumb sliding up and down the porcelain of the mug, finding it easier to speak when she had something to focus on. "I haven't done anything," she said, and really wasn't that statement so laughably pathetic? That was why she'd gotten into this mess in the first place. She never did anything, and when the opportunity presented itself, she couldn't help but go along. She was so bored, so lonely. Perhaps it was a lack of control, but she felt like it was more complicated than that.

"The world has kept turning. Nothing's really changed... I don't feel the same, but I still act the same, so I suppose there's no point in saying I'm different."

Sweet Nothings [Giovanni & Sarah]

Giovanni was finding that, as of late, life had been full of surprises.

Today’s surprise came in the form of a familiar head of brown hair, perfectly coiffed around a pretty face he knew all too well. It had been a few months since he had seen her last, but his memories of her had not dulled any: her porcelain skin beneath his fingers, her dark eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks, the short gasps issued from her lips.

Oh, he certainly remembered.

It was with these thoughts in mind that he approached her that day, having intended to eat a sandwich at the cafe alone but unable to resist the temptation of her as-of-now rigid form. Even if there was little else in their future physically, she still entertained him, and that was enough to keep him coming back.

"How does it feel," he murmured as he slid into the seat across from her, "to be an adulteress?" The smile that graced his lips then could only be described as a smirk. "Does the air around you feel different? Do respectable young women swerve out of your path as you pass? Do tell; I want to know. I’m starving for details."

Sarah felt like the ground dropped out from under her seat when Giovanni slipped into the seat across from her. It wasn't like she'd thought him a figment of her lonely imagination, but she certainly hadn't expected to see him again. Even the... encounter... they had had was pure chance, and since then she had felt it best to actively avoid him if need be from here on out.

It wasn't like she hadn't enjoyed it... That was part of the problem, really. She'd been too drunk to prevent it, really, and it had been fun. She hadn't been touched in ages, and it had been nice to feel wanted, even if only for a moment. It was only in the sober light of day that she had felt the shame.

With him here, sitting across from the table, she could remember his hands on her thighs, and she didn't know how she felt about it. Her stomach twisted into knots at his words, at his smirk, like he knew how it tore her up inside, like he enjoyed that.

Pressing her lips together, she stared down into her half-drunk coffee cup. "What do you want me to say? That I feel guilty? That I don't?"

firestarter-sharpe

Walks Like A Duck || Ryan & Sarah

firestarter-sharpe

Ryan couldn’t help but grin at the sight - it wasn’t mean, but it was hard to deny that the mayor’s wife surrounded by ravenous ducks was pretty fucking funny. Very pleased with himself, he took a moment to just sit there and grin before tossing another piece of bread, this time off to the side of the path. One duck saw it first, and then another, and then the whole lot of them moved like some duck swarm towards the bread. Ryan wasn’t sure what he was enjoying more.

"Looks like you’re at the mercy of the ducks, Mrs. Baker," he said, faux-seriously as he nodded at the birds. "I hear they’d rip a man apart for a piece of bread, and it just so happens here that I have a whole bag full."

He waved it to show her. Ryan Sharpe with his bag of bread, what a sight. He didn’t think anything of Sarah seeing him, though. Maybe if it had been Victor or any of the other Lombardi, he’d have tried to hide the bread. Or throw it all at their feet and create an impenetrable wall of ducks that they’d never escape. Like he really needed to think about that decision twice.

Fortunately for Sarah, she was not associated with the mobsters (as far as he knew), so she avoided death by duck at least for a few minutes. “What brings you out here?” he asked. “New summer? The pond? The ducks?” He paused, then began in a slightly more honest voice. “How’ve you been?”

#para #walks like a duck #ryan

Sarah slumped down onto the bench next to him with an exhale, watching the ducks swarm the bread he had thrown them. She managed a smile, albeit a tired one, all the same. "Thought I'd get out and try to clear my head. It just doesn't do to be a shut in all the time, after all."

She looked out at the pond, the breeze cooling a bit of the sweat on her brow. "I'm all right, I suppose... Things are... complicated, but when are they not? I suppose that's what being an adult is... I've been so caught up in things I've forgotten to keep track of everyone else. I'm sorry I haven't met up with you for breakfast."

She glanced at him, blushing a little, embarrassed. "You're always welcome to come by my home and throw pebbles at my window until I come out of course. How have you been, Mr. Sharpe?"

What sort of drink?

Drink? Oh, no, I haven't had a drop of alcohol since February.

It just leads to trouble.

firestarter-sharpe

Walks Like A Duck || Ryan & Sarah

Ryan Sharpe was feeling pretty goddamn domesticated lately. Lombardi shit aside, his life was…pretty dull. Not that he minded, not really, but if anyone ever asked what he did, all they’d get would be a glare in response. Ryan Sharpe didn’t discuss her personal life, because outside of a few key people, he really didn’t have one. It was only his job that was exciting, and fortunately, that was what most people seemed to know about him. It was why, as he sat on the park bench with a crumbled bag of bread, he found himself both completely satisfied and anxious (in a far-off, distant sort of way).

The pond wasn’t far away, and with the pond were the ducks. Ryan was hardly a bird watcher, but there was something that made him smile at the sight of birds gathering before him. Plus, he often had too much food at his home, often from his attempts to minimize his time there, and if he wasn’t going to enjoy it, at least they would. Not that he cared about the fucking enjoyment of ducks - admitting that to himself would make even him ashamed. The thought did pass, though, that he cared just as much about the ducks as he did about other people - nothing, he told himself. He didn’t care at all.

People came and went, but he rarely looked up. It was only by chance, then, that he glanced at the path and saw a familiar face: Sarah Baker, the mayor’s wife. They had spoken before and had breakfast, though it’d been a while. Still, he remembered her company as enjoyable, if a stark contrast to the people Ryan usually was with. He hesitated for moment, frowning as he tried to think of how to introduce himself before simply settling for tossing a piece of bread near the area where she was, figuring the ducks would swarm to her and announce his presence for him. Doing just that, he sat back, watched, and waited to see if she remembered him too.

#para #walks like a duck #ryan

Sarah had a lot on her mind lately. Sure, that wasn't necessarily uncommon for her, but it certainly had gotten worse. She had been making progress, at least she thought she had, when it came to her relationship with George. She hadn't been happy, no, but he was, and that was what she was supposed to do as his wife.

It had all been going well until Valentine's Day... That was when everything had gone wrong. That was when Giovanni Macini happened. She had no idea what to do with the reality of the situation... George wasn't around enough to notice a difference, of course, but she still couldn't get it out of her mind. She hadn't seen Giovanni since that night, but... Oh, it was all so complicated.

It was because of her preoccupation that she didn't notice the ducks until it was too late, yelping in surprise as they surrounded her to get to the nearby bread. She look up, trying to find the source and spotted none other than Ryan Sharpe sitting on a bench. "Well, Mr. Sharpe, what are you going to do about this?" she asked, flipping her short hair out of her face.

Oh yes, thank you. That’s lovely of you to offer.

I know it is always what helps me.

Headache.

Oh, goodness. I can offer you a dark, cool room to hide out in until it subsides?

God, my head is killing me.

What happened?

#para #trouble's lament #self para

stellarussell replied to your post:really wanna get some new paras going with all of...

yooo if you wanna do a new para for nat and stella or something i’m totally game since the previous one is p much finished :) fel’s up for plots too if you’d rather that.

i am down for pretty much anything :)

next time you get on skype we will discuss

#stellarussell #ooc

really wanna get some new paras going with all of my characters so if you wanna plot/para with victor, sarah, and/or nat, hit me up <3

#ooc

Trouble's Lament || Self-Para

Sarah wasn't the type to get into things she shouldn't. When she was younger she was bolder, but she still knew her place. Still, alcohol was a wicked thing, and it had served her wrong months ago, back during Valentine's Day, and even though she had spoken of it with no one, her mind still lingered on the events that came to pass even now, smothering her with worry.

For the first several days she had not thought on it at all, really, pretending that she had never gotten into the car with mob-boss and all around frightening man Giovanni Macini. It had all felt like a very odd dream when softened by the filter of alcohol-- the hand on her thigh, the town's lights blurring by outside the window of the car. She couldn't really remember where they had gone to, just that the drive had seemed to last an eternity.

She had told him she was married-- at least, she thought she had. Even if she didn't, that much was already well established, wasn't it? Still, it wasn't like a mobster cared too much about the rules of society if they didn't make them, so she supposed it probably didn't matter in the long run. At some point, whether during that night or down the line, it had stopped mattering to Sarah too...

George never touched her anymore anyway, and every initiation she made to be what he wanted always seemed to end up in disappointment. George was out to capture the world in his fingertips, and Sarah just couldn't keep up with that. She couldn't be the world. She was just a woman.

...and it seemed that Giovanni wasn't looking for the world in her, and maybe that was why she let him put his hands on her that night. It wasn't supposed to go further than that, but then, it wasn't supposed to happen at all. She could still feel his breath on her neck, the ghost of his fingers bruising her thighs.

It had been months since that night, of course, and she hadn't seen even a glimpse of him since. She hadn't expected to. They lived in different worlds, and neither of them had been seeking anything other than body heat. Still, it weighed on her, the reality of it, the infidelity. Betraying George had been misery-inducing all on its own, but the fact that it was a mobster-- one of the very men George was trying to put a stop to-- just made it all the worse.

Of course, she was always miserable, so it wasn't like George even noticed.

God, she was such a mess.

What would she do now? Where could she turn? She felt simultaneously liberated and caged by what she had done, and she didn't know the way out... but she had to do something... at least... eventually. She'd been sitting on her reality for three months and done nothing, said nothing, and the world had kept moving the way it always had.

What could she do except carry on as usual?

Still... she couldn't help but wonder if or when she would see him again. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd even care, if he'd even remember.

...such a mess, all of it...

audrey-mcqueen-blog

I…yeah. I want to be positive here and reassure you that it won’t, but I don’t think I can.

Perhaps... we should meet for a drink sometime soon. Might ease the nerves a little. You should come by my home sometime.

#convo #audrey

audrey-mcqueen-blog

Uh, as far as I’m aware people were mostly injured. I can’t say for certain that no one did, though, I can’t imagine anyone in or near the pharmacy was able to come out of it alive.

Jesus...

It hasn't even been a year since that fire. I fear Chicago is just going to get worse and worse.

#convo #audrey

audrey-mcqueen-blog

Likewise. A Lombardi pharmacy was blown up by the Macini. I…I don’t know all the details, but that’s what they’ve told us—me.