「 ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ 」

JACK BARTON everyone has a price

[jacksbarton-blog]

keeping up with four separate blogs is a pain in the ass so i’m gonna make a mumu blog for my demons and then i’ll be back on the dash!!

[jacksbarton-blog]

☎ - buzz

put ☎ in my ask for your muses info in my muses phone: 

NAME: Buzz 

RINGTONE: iphone default ringtone

PICTURE:

LAST TEXT RECEIVED:

[ BUZZ ] bring me home a subway[ BUZZ ] jack???[ BUZZ ] answer your fucking phone[ BUZZ ] stop ignoring me dickhead

LAST TEXT SENT: 

[ JACK ] stop eating all my bloody chocolate hobnobs !![ JACK ] they aren’t fucking easy to come by in this piss hole

[jacksbarton-blog]

「 ᴀᴛᴛɪᴄᴜs ꜰᴀɪʀᴄʜɪʟᴅ 」·:

Atticus was smoking a cigar, watching the video in silence. These were the most disconcerting moments, when Atticus became unreadable. “Well,” a drag and release to break up his sentence, “They have an admirable flare for the dramatic.” He maybe silent and unreadable, but inside, a storm, a rage was welling up in his chest and who knew how it would come out.

He stands with his arms folded across his chest, a troubled look etched into his features as a sigh of exasperation is drawn from his lips. The pictures continue to flick across the screen behind the warning message delivered by The Cobra’s ( who ever the hell they were ) a collection of disturbed and gruesome images depicting the death of their leader and fellow gang members. It’s a sight that won’t be burned from his memory with ease. ❝ Shouldn’t someone be shutting this down? ❞ And by someone, he meant Atticus. As second in command, surely it meant that these things now fell into his area of responsibilities. 

[jacksbarton-blog]

「 ᴀᴍᴍᴀ sɪᴍᴍᴏɴs 」:

Amma looked up at the mangled mess of rope and flesh, it was taking them forever to get it down. And the meat was starting to cook in the summer heat. Covering her mouth with her sleeve, to passers by it would look like she was distraught over the sight. But really, she just couldn’t stand the stink. 

Whoever it was who strung up the poor bastard, they were fast, brutal and had style. The first two were traits to be admired in her line of work. The last one, was a double edged sword. 

It made you stand out, but it also made you stand out. 

Whoever did it, they sure as hell sent the message. 

The sight of the mangled corpse swinging from the rope was enough to make Jack want to bring his breakfast back up, but he willed his stomach to refrain from making him spew all over the crime scene and embarassing himself— there was plenty of time for that later, when he was in the comfort of his own apartment and not surrounded by a growing crowd of civilians behind the cordon all trying capture the crime scene and the body for their snapchat, instagram and whatever it was these VULTURES succumbed to like brainless zombies.

He barks at ginger haired man in his early twenties who is trying to capture a selfie with the corpse in the background to show a little respect. The other man grumbles, reluctantly stuffing the phone into his pocket as he walks away from the crime scene. As he walks away he catches a glimpse of silky brown locks, even with her hand covering her mouth he can recognise her — the family resemblance is uncanny. Amma Simmons, also known as Amma Barton, his bastard half-sister!

❝ What the hell are you doing at my crime scene? ❞ The concern in his voice isn’t for his sister, it’s for the fact that a hired killer known to be on Caito’s payroll is lurking around his crime scene of a dead reporter who leaked the story about a MOLE in their ranks. 

[jacksbarton-blog]

「 ꜰʀᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀʀᴛᴇʀ 」:

frank chuckled, popping another gummy into his mouth before shrugging. ❝ nope. ❞ he replied. ❝ i was taught to always come prepared, though. you, on the other hand, were clearly never a boy scout. ❞ the blond took the bag in his hands, offering it to the gang member sitting next to jack, arm stretched across the other male. ❝ yo, man. want some ? ❞

You, on the other hand, were clearly never a boy scout. A reluctant smirk appeared on his lips at Frank’s words, they hit the nail on the head and he couldn’t have known how right he was about Jack. When he was ten years old, he’d witnessed his brother beating his father to a bloody pulp in their front living room and cried helplessly from his bedroom window as he watched his older brother ripped from their home by two police officers !! When he was twelve years old, Jack got into his fight in school when another student asked how is PYSCHO brother was— he answered his question by headbutting him and breaking his nose. Jack walked around school with a smile on his face for weeks. Buzz would have been so proud. ❝ I don’t think anyone in this room ever made it into boy scouts, do you? ❞ A scoff escaped his lips as Frank stretched his arm across him, offering his sweets to the man sat beside him. ❝ That’s stone cold, man. ❞

[jacksbarton-blog]

「 ɴᴇᴠᴇɴᴀ ɴɪᴋᴏʟᴏᴠ 」:

she grabs the smokes out of her bag and pulls one out, ❝ quit complaining. ❞ she liked pushing his buttons. it was far more entertaining than the meeting they were having. ❝ fine. let’s ditch. where would you like to go ?❞ she blows out smoke.

❝ I’m a cop at a meeting with no coffee or doughnuts, COMPLAINING is what we do. ❞ Jack says with a nonchalant tone of voice, electric blue eyes absently scanning the briefing room they had all scrambled into. It’s larger than any briefing room they have at the precinct, though he shouldn’t be surprised; this is a mansion after all. ❝ Anywhere but here, somewhere that has beer preferably. ❞

[jacksbarton-blog]

I’m gonna drop my discord here while I head to work for the day because I’m losing track of IM’s and who I’m plotting with between all four of my characters so doing it on discord will be a hell of a lot easier for me tbh

[bellblake]

Hey handsome, miss me?

[johnnyssilverhand]

i’ve got a lover i love like  r e l i g i o n.

[jacksbarton-blog]

ofbvstards‌:

⋆ ◦ ° ☾ paul wesley + cismale + he/him — have you met Roman Kowalski? they are a thirty six year old known around town as the reticent. they’ve been in the gang life for eight years, and currently work for the gang as a arms dealer. they are a bisexual gemini, which means they are resilient + observant, as well as reticent + secretive. a trunk full of weapons, multiple passports with different names, worn leather boots. × kevin. twenty five. he/him. gmt. ×

it’s ya boy kevin, back at it again with another muse !! honestly i’m surprised i haven’t brought a paul wesley muse in sooner, but better late than never right? it’s past midnight so let me apologise in advance for this messy intro and its general sense of being all over the place.. i’ve had a hundred and one different ideas for roman in my head 

Keep reading

[jacksbarton-blog]

「 ʀɪᴄᴋʏ ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ 」·:

     meetings bored the ever living shit out of ricky but after the whole- big bang of a party he couldn’t escape them. he’s messing with his phone, trying to up his high score on flappy bird with his boots kicked up on the table and a look of concentration on his face. a look not used often when actually needed- like paying attention to the damn meeting. ricky knows there’s fighting going on but it’s the same boring crap as usual but the slamming of the door makes him lose focus and he dies in his game. ❝ replace beer with pacifiers because you babies keeping spitting out your fucking dummies. ❞ dark eyes finally rise from his phone and he glares at the door. ❝ i was ten points off man, i’m shooting him in the kneecap later. ❞ 

❝ I think there’s been enough bloodshed around here lately, don’t you? ❞ Blue eyes settle on Ricky, a pleading look etched into his features that almost begged him not to stir the pot anymore than it already had been. Blood demanded blood amongst these people, Jack knew how it worked and he knew they wouldn’t stop until the streets were stained with the blood of the responsible for their damages and loss. ❝ Maybe you should tend to your wounded before adding to it. ❞ 

[jacksbarton-blog]

「 ɴɪᴋᴏ ᴘᴇᴛʀᴀɴ 」‌:

he leaned comfortable against the wall — a figure in the shadows, ever listening, always watching as the meeting progressed. after the attack on the organization, there was WORK that needed to be done, retaliation to be had, but first ———————- the TARGET had to be found.  ❛  there’s beer over in that fridge — ❜ he’d remained silent until that moment, one hand raising to motion towards the small refrigerator off to the corner, normally, he’d have cracked one open by now as well, but it would take something much stronger to bite down the ache from every broken rib he’d received in the attack,  ❛  perhaps we could continue? ❜

Jack leaned forward, blue eyes searching the room until they settled on the refrigerator in the corner of the room, just like Niko had said. ❝ Want one? ❞ He asks, letting his feet carry him towards the refrigerator. It opens simple enough, he almost expected it to have a child lock to prevent anybody drinking themselves into a stupor during these meetings. Reaching inside he grabbed himself a beer, popped the cap and raised the bottle towards Niko as a silent thank-you for providing him with his saving grace. ❝ The floor is yours. ❞ He said with a sweep of his hand, quite happy and content to remain silent for the remainder of the meeting. 

[jacksbarton-blog]

「 ᴍᴀʀɪᴋᴏ ʙʀᴀᴜɴ 」:

❛  — who’s stirring? ❜  there was a mock innocence in mariko’s tone while she spoke, sliding off of the counter that she’d perched on in order to pull the knife from the dart board. passing a look to the woman that had passed a comment, one that said please try something, i beg of you, mariko turned to the man that had referenced the stirring of the pot and shrugged a shoulder.  ❛   i’m just saying what everyone is thinking. we’re all here, we’re all SUPPOSED to be fighting the same damn war and guess what man, we lost a battle at that party. ❜  so now they knew. there was an itch growing beneath mariko’s skin at the thought of it, how easily someone had just waltzed right into their little house party, dropped a bomb and WRECKED everything that the organization had stood for, she couldn’t even take the time to consider what would have happened if she was there, she just wasn’t wired that way. ❛  the fact is we need to be on edge, we need to find out who did this, and we need to drag them down the streets by their hair. SHOW THE WORLD that you don’t fuck with us. ❜ the tip of her knife was being tapped by her very own patient finger as she looked to the other with a brow raised, waiting for some form of rebuttal,  ❛  we’re going to have to do something, you know it, and i know it.  ❜

❝ Don’t play innocent with me. ❞ There was a hint of irritation in Jack’s voice as he spoke to her, whether it be from fatigue, the stress of finding out somebody tried to kill your brother or something else entirely. What ever it was, he wasn’t in the mood for it — or for her games. If she wanted to kick the hornets nest, she could do so. But he’d be damned if he was letting her thirst for vengeance get anybody else injured. Jack had no doubt that she knew what she was doing, pulling at their strings like they were puppets 

( she was one to watch out for. ) 

❝ And I’m telling you that there’s a smart way and a dumb way to go at this. Guess what? Getting everybody riled up and more bloody thirsty than they already are is the dumb play. ❞ He gets it, he understands the need for vengeance, his own fingers itch to curl around the throat of the person that tried to take his brother from him and choke the light out of them. ❝ You want somebody to pay? Point me in their direction and I’ll make them hurt. I’ll be in the bloody line right behind you, but you need to take a step back and think this over. ❞

[jacksbarton-blog]

「 ᴅᴀɴɪᴄᴀ ꜰʟᴏʀᴇs 」‌:

        three across, seven down ; she’s switched between tv mania and sudoku several times the average attention span should allow, tucked away in the most casually obvious spot because hey, unnecessary work isn’t her jam. danica doesn’t even bother to look up, his incessant complaining being more of enough of an indicator as to who he is. “you’re like a broken record,” a scratchy, skipping, broken record. “you go on and on about snacks and food and drinks but i hear no one else complaining, but you.” she makes another definitive stroke, brown eyes finally moving up to acknowledge him. “the problem here… is you.”

❝ I’m also part of the reason most of you have avoided jail time. ❞ Jack reminded her, blue eyes burrowing deep into her skull. His role in the organisation isn’t just to turn a blind eye to their crimes, he puts his job on the line daily — falsifying reports, stealing and planting evidence from lock-up and not to mention turning traitors and snitches over to them instead of witness protection. ❝ The problem here is you’re weak, exposed. I know it, your enemies know it. Your leader is dead and that leaves you vulnerable for attack. ❞    

[jacksbarton-blog]

「 ɴᴇᴠᴇɴᴀ ɴɪᴋᴏʟᴏᴠ 」·:

Nevena was sitting in the corner, crutches leaned against the wall onto her right, a cup of coffee in her hand. She never was fond of coming to any sort of meetings. She just wanted to receive her next assignment, start studying on it, and get the job done. However, after recent events it’s crucial that she attend. ❝ If we’re wasting your time then you could just leave. ❞ She leaned her head to the side, a smirk graced on her lips, ❝ I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait on eating. ❞ The brunette had ate a few cheese crackers in the span of twenty-four hours. 

❝ And leave you lot alone to plan your revenge? I don’t think so. Without supervision you’d have half the city marched to the gallows. ❞ He shot her an incredulous look, if she thought for a second that Jack was going to get up and leave before a decision was made, then her broken leg wasn’t the only thing she needed an x-ray for.

[jacksbarton-blog]

「 ꜰʀᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀʀᴛᴇʀ 」·:

❝ do i look like your damn babysitter, jack ? ❞ frank asked, raising an eyebrow. he was leaning on his chair so far back it was a miracle it hadn’t tipped over yet, feet propped up against the table. he has a packet of gummy bears in the pocket of his coat, and he had been considering opening it for the past twenty-five minutes— now, frank couldn’t help but do it out of spite, opening the treat and leaving it on top of his stomach, popping a green gummy in his mouth before grinning at the other man. ❝ bring your own fucking snacks, how does that sound ? ❞

Jack shifted his gaze to the tall, muscular blonde man who was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up against the table. Blue eyes narrowed into slits as he pulled a pack of gummy bears from his coat pocket, grinning back at Jack as he popped one in his mouth. Bastard. The temptation to kick him backwards on his chair and steal his bag of sweets was more appealing than it should have been, but the rest of his comrades might not take too kindly to a small act of violence towards one of their own after the events of the house party. 

❝ Did somebody never teach you how to share, Carter? ❞

[jacksbarton-blog]

「 sᴀᴍᴀɴᴛʜᴀ ᴏ'ᴄᴏɴɴᴏʀ 」·:

“well, my job isn’t exactly to run to costco and stock up on bulk jars of pretzels and twists,” sam remarked, eyebrow raised. “but if you’ve got so much free time, feel free to make a trip yourself.” the brunette waved in the direction of the door absentmindedly as she herself pulled out her phone and read a message from a client. pursing her lips, she dropped it back into her pocket. “i don’t have a beer, but. you can have some if you want.” she produced a flask from the same purse, filled to the brim with whiskey. she held it out in his direction; once it was returned to her, she cooly added: “you’re welcome.”

❝ Whose job is it then? And can you point them in my direction. ❞ Jack quipped, searching the room for a snack courier. He supposed it was possible that one of them could be on Caito’s payroll AND work for Postmates. It wasn’t as if couriers were above committing a felony. Their jobs couldn’t pay that well, and they’d serve as the perfect drug runner or debt collector. ❝ I’ll take what I can get. ❞ Jack replied, accepting the flash from her and taking a swig; the honey coloured liquid set fire to the back of his throat just like it had when Buzz had gave him his first sip at just twelve years old.