survival of the fittest @isaacxharris - Tumblr Blog

ameliakincaid:

“That’s probably the best way of putting it.” Amelia said with a nod as she looked over the other momentarily. It seemed that they had their doubts but that it wasn’t enough for either of them to jump shit just yet. She was still weary and needed to see how things would change with the new man in charge. “I hope so, too.” She nodded her head absentmindedly. “Would you ever jump shit if he drove us straight into the ground?”

“I couldn’t, this is who I am,” His loyalty lied with the Vittori’s, with Ronnie especially. But now that she mentioned it, he was a bit concerned about where her loyalties lied. “Why? Are you jumping?” He wouldn’t snitch on her, but he’d definitely advise against it. It wouldn’t look good for her with any affiliation.

#{ conversation }#{ ameliakincaid }

dailymarvelkings

#{ visage }#//a king

ameliakincaid:

Amelia sucked in a deep breath at the mention of Henri as she looked back at him and shrugged her shoulder. “I think he’s in over his head but he isn’t the worst.” If she had to compare the both, she wasn’t sure what she would come up with. “What about you? I’m more interested in knowing what you think.”

He couldn’t go against his new boss now, but Ronnie did bring up a good point of the concern of him turning into Lorenzo. Now to voice that concern would be completely different, however. “It’s going to take some time to get used to. On my end at least,” He hoped that was a nice way of expressing his concerns. “I’ll be sure that he’s not in over his head, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” Isaac was there to help him, whether Henri wanted the help or not. “I think we have a lot of work to do, and I hope Henri can lead us all.”

#{ ameliakincaid }#{ conversation }

sdclxre:

“I guess that certainly makes a difference. A day full of panic exams and endless papers would definitely seem a little more gloomy than this.” She laughed, quietly, reminiscent of a time far less complicated than the one she lived now. “No, not really. I wouldn’t give up my time here for anything. Absolutely nothing makes sense in a place like this when you’re here, but from what I know and remember, it’s kind of nice not knowing which way is up half the time.” It’s not to say, in the least, that she’d rather be occupied and ignorant as a result, no – Savannah Delore took pride in the plethora of things that could inevitably be pulled at the thread by her very own hand, but knowledge often opened a gateway to wishing innocence was still a tolerable trait. “For the time being, I suppose you’re right.” Light that shone through overhead tree branches cast an ominous shadow across the pair, azure hues soon finding her counterpart on the bench beside her. Isaac Harris - an interesting idea of company, to say the least. “I stopped by to see an old professor of mine, he talked me into sitting in on one of his lectures and I’ve always found it quite hard to say no to the man that taught me more than I know what to do with now.” Incidentally, not an entire falsity, although Savannah knew exactly what to do with the things he’d taught her. “It’s a nice break from the courthouse, but, my being here makes a little more sense than yours does. Don’t tell me you’re considering becoming a mature aged collegiate,” A taunt that settled lightheartedly, an easy standpoint - for now.

He remembered the pressure his father put on him when he attended university. Things were not fun since he didn’t get to party or really have a full college experience. “The papers really were endless,” He reminisced, unsure if he’d even be able to pull an all-nighter now. “It’s the best four years of your life. Although sometimes it could be the worst too,” That just depended on the type of week he was having with schoolwork.

“That’s nice,” He wondered if any of his professors from his university were still teaching since it had been over twenty years. Damn, now he felt old. “How was the lecture?” He was curious, wondering what it was like to sit in on a class, something he hadn’t done in again, over twenty years again. “Did you feel like you were a student again?” At the question of becoming a student, Isaac shook his head, lightly chuckling, “I’m not sure I’d have the time even if I wanted to. I usually come on campus when it’s just really nice out, mainly during my lunch break.” It wasn’t a cool reason at all, but then again he wasn’t that cool to begin with.

#{ conversation }#{ sdclxre }

Open Starter

Deja Brewery

When Isaac heard the front door open, he scurried from the back to the front. Maybe it was some delivery truck people, he had no idea really. "Can I help you? We’re not open for another hour,” Isaac said as he walked to the front of the house, “Sorry, I haven’t had the chance to change the sign yet. We’re open an hour later, and close an hour late,” He explained, “Summer hours and all that,” He hated abiding by his own rules, especially when a customer came in, “But since you’re already here and everything, I might as well serve you,” It wasn’t everyday that he went behind the counter, “What can I get you?”

#ftwchat #{ open starter }

ameliakincaid:

“Just because you joke doesn’t mean you aren’t a hot head, Isaac?” She said with a snort as she folded her arms over her chest. “Hopefully it just means you’re not as impulsive.” She’d seen too many people jump ship early only to get themselves killed in the process. “Depends. What do you have in mind?” She questioned, dark hues meeting his.

“Of course not,” He couldn’t be impulsive, not with the title he had. He had to make sure everything was carefully guided and the strikes were planned out. "It’s not really what I have in mind,” He chuckled, “I mean, do you like Henri?” A general consensus was good, something that would give Isaac an idea of what he was working with. Of course he knew Henri, but Henri wasn’t the boss before. And Isaac always worked directly with Lorenzo (rip, but not really).

#{ ameliakincaid }#{ conversation }

ronnievittori:

Issac was wrong. Lorenzo didn’t like power, he loved it. Power was his drug, his addiction. Nothing else mattered to that man than power and assuring that he continued to have it even in death. Maybe that was why everything about Veronica Vittori went still with Issac’s gentle reminders. This man here, had seen the absolute worst of her. Issac had seen her hands covered in blood and the sick satisfaction that meeting bloodlust shining bright in her eyes. He had seen the scars and evidence of her father’s abuse. He was there for it all and now, it seemed that he even understood her in this moment better than she even did. “I should of been the one to put him in the ground and I’m going to find whoever it was that finished what I started and take what’s mine”, she practically growled the confession, sliding her glasses back up her nose. At the sound of her former lover’s nam, Veronica once again stilled. “I don’t know how I feel. It’s the proper way things should be, he’s underboss after all. But, that doesn’t mean it’s not sitting right with me. I feel almost like, Lorenzo 2.0 has been born in him and it breaks my heart.”

"Let me help you,” He insisted. He’d do anything for Ronnie, including getting revenge with her. “As long as we’re smart about this. Who do you think did it?” It was obvious that this wasn’t an accident, someone had pulled the damn plug but there were two other suspicious groups around now. It wasn’t like they could automatically blame the Ivory. At the mention of Lorenzo 2.0, Isaac felt a fire inside of him, mainly because he didn’t want Ronnie to have to go through this again. “The succession makes sense, yes,” He agreed, “How so? Is he already getting that bad?” It’s not like he was the one who called for Lorenzo’s execution. At least Isaac didn’t think so.

#{ conversation }#{ ronnievittori }

ronnievittori:

She couldn’t do that to Issac. She couldn’t push this responsibility onto anyone else. It was just the disappointment in how this occasion came around. This was supposed to be a celebration, the party that came after taking down a tyrant with her own two hands. On the upside, he was dead. On the downside, now she needed to find the person who took the opportunity away from her and make them suffer. “I can’t”, she sighed, tossing the casket catalogue onto the table before her. “Why couldn’t he of just vanished and made life so much easier? The big ass drama queen just needed to be in the middle of fucking everything and everyone as per usual.”

All he wanted to do was take Ronnie’s pain away. It wasn’t fair to her, this wasn’t fair to her. She had been dealt an interesting pack of cards. "Because he didn’t want to go away,” Lorenzo was like a cold sore that would keep popping up until someone killed him, which happened in the end. “I mean, he liked the power,” Although Lorenzo had the power, Isaac always liked to remind himself of how absolute power corrupts absolutely. Lorenzo was not a nice man at all, he deserved to die. “And now he can’t come back, he’s dead.” Isaac reminded her, “It’s not like Napoleon where he’s exiled to an island and then comes back in a few years. He’s gone.” He wanted her to know that she was safe from him, he’d never come back. He wasn’t going to haunt her as a ghost either. “How do you feel about Henri being the one in charge?” He valued Ronnie’s opinion, who wouldn’t? He wanted to know her thoughts.

#{ conversation }#{ ronnievittori }

ameliakincaid:

“I guess in comparison to those taller than I am, you might not be tall but I think you are.” Not only that, he was a stacked man. Not that she’d tell him that as she didn’t want to give him some kind of ego or worry him about his built. In comparison to her lithe frame, he was rather large. “You’re a little soft beneath it all which is good.” The same could have been said about her but she liked to think she hid it more. “I like to listen more than I like to speak.” She nodded her head in acceptance, only to nudge him as the next set of words came out. “Such a soft one.”

"Well, thank you,” He accepted the compliment. It wasn’t like he didn’t like compliments, especially from pretty women. “Someone has to be, or else there’d be a bunch of hotheads in a room,” And that was never a good thing. “How do you feel about the new regime change?” He wanted to get a good feel, so how people were doing with the suddent change.

#{ ameliakincaid }#{ conversation }

julianpistris:

With the few questions that left Isaac’s lips, Julian couldn’t help but smirk. The poor man really had no idea what he’d gotten himself into… bless him. “Nope, no water, no need for a bathing suit- take my words as… a metaphor.” He dramatically gestured to the sky. “This night is the opportunity to be born again.” If they didn’t die first. He tugged on his jacket, motioning for the man to follow him to his car. “I’d tell you the game plan, but I personally love a good surprise… come along, Consigliere, we’re expected.” The lights to his jeep flickered on as Julian made himself comfortable in the driver’s seat.

He figured that they were just getting drunk or something, with all of Julian’s words about being born again. At the mention of not telling him, Isaac shook his head with a sigh, "You’re lucky I like you,” It wasn’t that he hated surprises, he just wasn’t a huge fan of them. Isaac hopped into the passenger’s seat. A part of him was excited, he hadn’t had a boys night in a long time. “Although I have to ask, who is expecting us?” He took his words literally for some reason, as if he was Amelia Bedelia. “I’d like to at least have a hint of what I’m walking into.”

#{ conversation }#{ julianpistris }

FTW TASK: Hueboard → Isaac Harris

#ftwtask #{ aesthetic }#{ musings }

sdclxre:

Location: University of Montreal Time: 1pm Status: Open

Catching a quick coffee with an old professor in search of a small snippet off advice, had turned into far more than she’d bargained for. Frankly, she should have expected as much. Though it’d been some time since she’d stepped foot inside a classroom, it’s been almost second nature to her when he’d asked that she sit in on his next lecture - offer her own input. As difficult as her job was, the fact that she was yet so young and still standing was a feat in itself, without taking into consideration the city itself. Build on the foundations of violence, the city that stood around them held far more than the simplicity of natural history, when a war raged within it as they spoke. Sat now, pondering old memories and hopes that she might have once held within the palms of her hands - now covered in ash and painted far differently than she might have ever pictured, Savannah felt the presence of another. Looming, perhaps barely on purpose beyond the bench she’d chosen. Light dispersed gently through the trees above and cast their shadow to her right. “It’s almost enough to make you want to go back.” The serene image painted before them. Though, she doubted she could teach, the crown prosecutor was not yet done with tearing apart the criminal underbelly of Montreal. “If, of course, you can manage to repress every memory of stress and anxiety this place ever handed out. Daily.” Lips pursed tightly, uncertain as to what the newcomer intended, though she certainly wasn’t paranoid - it never hurt to be curiously cautious. Azure hues cast across her shoulder to find them, “Decidedly, not a strong point of mine.” The ability of repression might have once been a godsend; to which she was only now thankful she was never granted.

The University wasn’t a place that Isaac came to often. However, when he needed some time to reflect, it was the perfect place to go to. No one bothered him there. With the recent new leadership, Isaac felt like he was going to be thrown through the ringer all over again. He was tired. Was he really going to be able to do it again?

Spotting a familiar face, he felt comfortable enough to sit down near her. “I think it’s the weather, it’s very nice out today,” He acknowledged, "Was it that bad?” He didn’t attend this university himself, but he could only figure that it was bad from how she was speaking. And he did attend university in general, so he knew where she was coming from. “At least it’s a chapter that’s over and done with, right?” Isaac tried to look on the bright side of things. If he didn’t, he probably would’ve lost his mind by now. “What’re you doing around here?” He was just curious, finding it amusing that they were both here at the same time.

#{ conversation }#{ sdclxre }

wickedmxse:

"Maybe.” Rodrigo’s eyes wandered over the form of the large man who stood before him. He’d recognized him, briefly, though could barely place him from the party that his family had thrown the night before. Isaac, if he’d recalled… Though Rigo could not place his affiliation, he was certain that he was aligned with one of the two rather large brokers of clout within the city. Honestly, which one didn’t really matter. “Maybe I’d be nicer if they were doing the things I paid them to do.” Seemingly stern in his tone, the man breaks into a smile, broad enough that it touches his eyes, and he’s suddenly waving ominously at the chair beside him. “Have a seat Mr… Harris, was it? Forgive my memory. There were a lot of introductions the other night, and I had a few too many glasses of wine.”

“Maybe they’d be more inclined to work if you were nicer to them,” He always treated his employees with the utmost respect. Happy employees meant a happy workspace. Obviously, Rodrigo didn’t get the memo. “Yes, though please call me Isaac. Mr. Harris was my father,” And a shit one at that. Obviously, though, he wouldn’t get into the details with a stranger. Against his somewhat better judgment, Isaac decided to sit down next to him. “That wine was very good,” He usually didn’t even like wine that much. “I’m sorry that there was a mishap there, though. A certain group seems to have no respect for you.”

#{ conversation }#{ wickedmxse }

ameliakincaid:

The brunette didn’t know how she’d gotten dragged into this and how the male had somehow turned it around in asking her a question. Bitting her lower lip as she peered back at him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to think back to him. “I thought you were huge at first.” She said with a shrug. “Then I saw you smile and thought you were a puppy dog.” Which, honestly, wasn’t that far from the truth if people knew Isaac.

He figured that was an accurate assessment. "I’m not really that tall,” He insisted. Being 6′2 and not always having the most friendly look on his face probably made him seem intimidating to some. In reality, he was far from intimidating. “I’m not sure if puppy dog is the right word either,” He didn’t think he was that soft. Actually, he really probably was. “I just thought you were quiet for some reason,” Not that she asked, “I feel like I have to sometimes pry words out of you which isn’t a bad thing either. And now I’ve realized that I really like talking to you.”

#{ conversation }#{ ameliakincaid }

wickedmxse:

10:30 A.M. @ ROSEMONT COUNTRY CLUB

Mid-morning, pool-side. It’s still relatively quiet, because it’s not quite hot enough to need the pool this early in the day. The smell of morning dew was still fresh across the greens, and it pleased Rodrigo as he enjoyed a late breakfast. The man was smart enough to know he should be taking advantage of this peace. If Hugo had his way, and if they continued on down the same jagged path, he wouldn’t have a moment of peace for the foreseeable future. But the man knew what he was getting himself in to when he’d agreed to join along in his older cousin’s escapades. Rigo was along for the ride. The entire ride. “Finally.” He’d lay his fork to rest near the edge of his plate. “We pay you people enough. Mimosa’s aren’t rocket science.” Rigo turned to catch a glimpse of the approaching body, amber pools flickering over the tops of his dark sunglasses. “Oh,” dejection tinted his voice. “What do you want?"

A country club always made him feel like he was at home. He grew up going to country clubs. Now, it felt a little different since he was a lot older. Spotting a Vargas, Isaac approached him with the intention of thanking him for the party. However, watching him talk to the employees made him want to turn around altogether. Unfortunately, Rigo started talking to him before he could. “It’s good to see you too,” He said sarcastically, knowing that it was anything but nice. "You should be a bit nicer to them,” He pointed out, even if he knew it wasn’t his place. But everyone deserved respect, regardless of their position. “Mimosa’s can be hard sometimes.”

#{ conversation }#{ wickedmxse }

ronnievittori:

If there was any way to describe this entire situation, it was that this was one truly fucked up moment in time. The Vittori name lay on her shoulders alone, now. It was something she had wanted for as long as she could remember, and yet, there was a bitterness that had settled at the pit of her stomach. One that couldn’t go unignored. It was part of the reason why she had retreated into her own little world again, but the rest was pure resentment. His death was supposed to be at her hands. A creak in the old wooden floors drew her attention up to the approaching figure. “Do you want to take over planning this funeral? Because as far as i’m concerned he could be left in the river to rot”, she mused, unconsciously rubbing at one of the many scars Lorenzo Vittori had left on her body in a fit of rage.

“Whatever you need,” Did he really even deserve a funeral though? It was more of a public show than anything. After all, what would the organization look like if it wasn’t at least pretending to mourn? “If you need me to, I will,” He would do anything for Ronnie, including planning a funeral which was probably the last thing he wanted to do. All he wanted to do was tell her that he was sorry, even if it wasn’t his fault and even if she wasn’t going to mourn him. Regardless, she lost a parent. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

#{ conversation }#{ ronnievittori }

julianpistris:

Isaac;

Where: DeJa Brew and wherever the night goes… When: 11pm, Post Event

So Lorenzo Vittori was dead. Wild. Vibes. RIP. It be your own- honestly, Julian wasn’t surprised at the news. With the Vargas arrival and pissed off Ivories, did anyone expect him to make it long? Julian had his suspicions about the whole affair, but whether or not there was foul play didn’t matter. It wasn’t like there was anything they could do to bring him back. Instead, he focused his attention on something else. A distraction. A promise he’d made to Isaac while at the gala. He was surprised that the other man agreed- hopefully they’d both make it to the wee hours of the morning.

A leather jacket throw on his frame, he found himself smoking a cigarette outside of Deja Brew. What he had planned was going to take some energy and willingness to jump off the edge. No reservations were allowed when someone joined Julian Pistris on a night out. For one night only, the City of Saints was going to be run by devils. The door opening caught his attention, a smirk pulling at his lips as he looked at Isaac. “Alright my dear friend, are you ready for your Montreal christening- done the right way of course.”

@isaacxharris

With a new reign of the Vittori’s, it made Isaac feel a little uneasy. He was going to be the consigliere for someone who he wasn’t as close to as Lorenzo, the little fucker that he was anyways. And that was if Henri kept Isaac in his current position. But that was neither this or that right now. He wasn’t quite the wild one anymore, nor was he ever to begin with. However, a distraction could be good.

“Are you going to pour water on my head?” He asked, “Because I did not bring a change of clothes,” And he didn’t like walking around wet, at least when he wasn’t in a bathing suit. “I didn’t think that was required for a night out. Unless we’re going swimming, then by all means, I completely misunderstood.

#{ conversation }#{ julianpistris }

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