Brie Larson photographed by Art Streiber for Women’s Wear Daily (February 2016)
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@lockhartclaire
Brie Larson photographed by Art Streiber for Women’s Wear Daily (February 2016)
juno-kennedy:
“Why didn’t anyone dissuade me when I thought an open tip line would be a good idea?”
“Let me guess, it’s just a bunch of snot-nosed kids or concerned elderly neighbors? Typical in a city like this. May I ask what this tip line is for?”
caspar-jaager:
THANK YOU to the asshole who burned down my workplace! Got me real good there, mate. Not like I need to pay rent, for food, and a buttload of student loans. No, no. I’m fine.
Everything happens for a reason, Caspar. For each action, there is an equal or greater reaction. Perhaps this is simply karma getting you for everything that you’ve done.
clifford-monroe:
He tensed up as the hard truth hit him point blank. Cliff thought that by not thinking of his brother he could deal with his death, but he saw his brother in everything. Old Baldwin stomping grounds, their parents home, the photos scattered around his apartment. Claire was right, she always was, the only way to deal was to talk about his brother and how he felt knowing his last moments were underneath someone’s tires. “I know…I will try to talk about Hayden. Promise.”
Cliff cracked a sideward smile. She didn’t even have to tell him to avoid Caspar, he was actively doing that on his own. “You won’t. I make sure to stay away from he likes to roam. You know me, do I seem like the person to go looking for trouble like Caspar?”
It was an automatic response to discussions with Clifford, regarding his former boyfriend and her former friend, to feel disgusted. Once upon a time, the three had been practically inseparable. The realization that it was now nothing more than a faded memory and a dead relationship, whilst it was perhaps the best for all involved, still managed to cause her some pain. The news of Hayden’s death had rattled her to the very core and suspicions had run rampant through the group due to people’s curiosity about just who had given the call and who had been behind the wheel of the vehicle. Claire had never asked the details and had dreaded the potential knowledge of such an incident.
“Not too long ago, we both would have jumped at the chance to get in a little trouble. Especially if Caspar was involved.” A smile hung on her lips as she spoke, but it immediately faded as a sigh passed through her mouth. “If you got hurt or something worse, I don’t think I could survive that. I’ve already lost one too many friends, I don’t need to lose you too.”
“You’re Dead Kiddo”||Open Para
emmettkershaw:
“Don’t give me that shit.” How fucking dare this kid insinuate that he was wrong. The little fuck was given three chances. Three fucking chances to pay what he owed. Emmett delivered a hard blow to his stomach and the man crumpled slightly before being shoved back onto his feet by the two thugs holding onto his arms. “I said by Friday, and I was nice enough to not come after you for at least 2 days after, so last chance. Where is the $1500 you owe me?” He cracked his knuckles getting ready to deliver another devastating sock to his stomach. Emmett hiked his suit pants up slightly to bend down to be face to face with the thief. “I’m not going to ask you again.” Emmett spoke softly, but firmly staring him in his eyes. The kid squirmed hard enough to break free from the thugs holding him down and managed to deck Emmett in the jaw before trying to take off running. The taste of copper filled his mouth instantly and he spit out a mixture of saliva and blood onto the concrete floor. “No, let him go.” He instructed to his goons before they took off after him. He adjusted his suit jacket and reached into the pocket, pulling out his black .45 and firing a single round into the assailant’s back. “Take care of that.” He motioned to the now dead man laying on the concrete floor with his gun before spitting his spit and blood onto the ground again. “This too.”
He hated having to kill. Dixon was the muscle, but he was tired of being glossed over as not being the boss. This is why so many dealers owed him money, they didn’t respect him. Emmett cleaned himself up, trying to cover up his split lip as best he could before heading out to continue his day. There was a quiet little corner bakery nearby that he found himself heading towards. His mind wouldn’t stop wandering away from thinking about that kid. It wasn’t until someone spoke his name did he snap out of his trance.
Being able to take full advantage of her mornings had been a rare occurrence for Claire given the fact that she worked most of the night into the early hours of the mornings behind the bar at The Parlour. It was tiring, but it earned her enough money to keep a roof over her head and clothes on her back. Despite all the drugs that were constantly dealt before her eyes, she was thankful for being provided with such a well paying position. Although the truth of her being there and abandoning the Baldwin Boys may not have been completely true, Claire had begun to feel that perhaps there were no benefits in the job Evelyn had so kindly gifted to her. Other loyalists would have jumped at the chance and shouted praises to the Heavens, but not her. She was well aware of the risks associated with what had been asked of her. If this went wrong? Dixon or perhaps even worse, Emmett would kill her without batting an eyelash.
Betrayal was a hard pill to swallow for most of the big names in the city, particularly those associated with the Baldwins. If anyone who knew of her new role became aware that she even had the desire to legitimately join N.E.3., she would find herself with more than just a broken arm or two. The only way the blonde could clear her head of disturbing thoughts was to head down to the bakery that was only a few blocks away from her humble, albeit small, home. The usual faces surrounded the shop, the waiter automatically recalled her order and within minutes, she was out on the pavement once more. Brisk air flushed her face and caused the apples of her cheeks to flush a deep crimson.
A familiar figure mere footsteps before her caused her to stop in her tracks, a smile on her thin lips. “Emmett?” Her voice called through the chaos of people on telephones and music thumping from passing cars. It was odd seeing her boss out on the street but what was even more weird was the sight of a cut on his lips. Despite her best efforts to remain as neutral as possible to avoid offending him unnecessarily, Claire could not help but question Emmett. “Are you okay?” A hand snapped up to reach for the injury but she quickly retracted it, stuffing it back into the pocket of her jacket.
georgina-amador:
“You’re neutral?” Georgina couldn’t hide her shock at the comment. To find someone in Beaumont still not willing to pick a side whether good or “bad” was truly remarkable. “Now that is a brave choice to be making, but it is your choice so I do hope you continue on the path you think will help you in the future.” She raised her glass as a toast to Claire’s bravery and also naivety. There were many bystanders in Beaumont, and they were the ones always ending up dead first. “Hm?” She brought her head up, smiling she reached over and touched a lock of Claire’s hand between her fingers. “Bright, clear, brave…from our conversation I say those words suit you quite well. Don’t you agree?”
The blonde immediately raised her own glass to join the toast, a clear celebration of her remarkable bravery but grave naivety toward the situation that city was currently in. Claire would hardly take Georgina Amador’s opinion of her to heart given the fact that she had not been the person she was desperate to make an impression upon, that person was Emmett Kershaw. After taking a sip of the liquor, she placed it down atop the bar and smiled toward the woman. It was strange, given all of the mystery and tales that surrounded her, that Georgina Amador was offering her such compliments. Although as far as Claire had been concerned, the compliments were quite back-handed. Bravery and wit were the demise of many people in Beaumont, especially those as young and careless as her. “I’m not quite sure I could have described it any better than what you just did, Ms Amador.” There’s a polite smile stretched across her lips, fingernails tapping on the hardwood of the bar top lightly. “How is business?”
clifford-monroe:
Cliff immediately regretted raising his voice as he watched Claire take a cautious step away from him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m really sorry Claire,” he blurted, raising his hands up to show that he wasn’t Caspar. Cliff was far from Caspar, he was on the other side of the rage spectrum. He took a deep breath hoping to calm his nerves and relax a bit as he talked to his old friend. So much had changed in the course of a few short months and yet all Cliff could think about was the past.
Nostalgia burned through him whenever he walked by old Baldwin stopping grounds. All but Death & Co. He’d never have the courage to step inside the place without receiving a sharp blow to the head. At the squeeze of his forearm, Cliff jolted back into reality, looking down at Claire with a meek smile. Despite her insistence that she could take care of herself, Cliff reached over and wrapped his arms around Claire, giving a tight hug to his friend.
“I know you can. You’re tougher than most people, but that doesn’t mean you can’t count on me too. I’ll be there for you, promise.”
“And you know I’ll be here for you too, Cliff.” Her palms rested atop his forearms as the limbs dangled around her body. Claire had enough strength to protect herself from someone who was a real threat but Caspar? That would be quite a stretch. The guy could snap without any notice whereas she would remain calm and rational about a situation unless she was pushed to respond in such a way. A sigh passed her lips as her forehead pressed against his shoulder.
“But I can’t be for you if you won’t let me. I know you want to move on but you can’t not talk about your brother. You saw what it did to me when I didn’t talk about my friends.” It was a moment of brutal honesty that was necessary. Once upon a time, Claire had been adamant about her strength to ignore and move on. But one could only ignore something for so long before it came back with a fiery passion. “You need to promise me that you won’t go doing anything stupid either, mainly involving Caspar. I don’t want to wake up one morning to find out that you died.”
Text} I see Death & Co. is no more. We should talk soon.
[Text]: Name the time and the place, boss.
caspar-jaager:
Isaac trusted Caspar to do his job thoroughly, and that was what he did.
His piercing gaze did not leave Claire for even a second. His eyes lingered, watched, evaluated, judged, even misjudged from time to time. Caspar had been told before that there was something intimidating – and ‘quite creepy’, they’d said – about his eyes. That was an outsider’s opinion, anyways. Whether it was the shade of blue, or simply the way he sized someone up he couldn’t say. But he supposed, from the way Claire squirmed in her seat and was nervous throughout this whole thing, that he wasn’t quite helping with looking at her like he did.
Not that he’d stop. Again, this was his job.
The young man moved back to his seat behind the desk, listening to Claire attentively. Once seated, he reached for the pack of cigarettes and his lighter on the desk to have a smoke. Claire spoke on, maybe even rambled a bit, but she hadn’t bored Caspar yet and deserved a chance. Everyone did. Had Isaac not given Cas one, he wouldn’t be where he was now. He’d learned that, and many more things, from that man.
The lighter dropped onto the desk with a loud clang, cigarette between his lips to take the first drag. He blew out the smoke to the side, but still looked at Claire. There was something that had caught his attention. “You didn’t want to become a thug,” he repeated, “and yet, you’re here. I take you know what the Baldwin Boys are famous for.” Another drag, nicotine rushing through his body. “Tell me what happened to your college plans. And then I want to know why you’re truly here.”
Beads of perspiration had formed in her palms as she watched the man search for the pack of cigarettes. She had been convinced by her parent’s to let go of the cigarettes and the alcohol in order to allow herself to move on after her friend’s deaths, but it was hard. The sight of a bottle of alcohol was enough for her to begin salivating and the smell of a freshly lit cigarette caused her throat to go dry, nervous at the thought of falling back into old habits. The last thing that Claire wanted to do was disappoint not only her parents but the people who had given her the opportunity to take up a position in the Baldwin Boys.
The blonde managed to force a smile onto her lips although the bright blue orbs that traced her frame and examined her made her somewhat nervous. She was used to people making eye contact once or twice, but never before had someone examined her as though she were a prize being shown. If her palms had not already been sweating, she was certain that the flesh would be covered in beads of sweat now.
There was a moment of silence as she listened to the man’s words, a small nod following each sentence to signify that she understood completely. It would be naive for Claire, a woman who had grown up on the streets of Beaumont, not to pay any mind to the gang warfare that raged outside of her home. “I had nowhere else to go and my family has a long history of serving under the Baldwin Boys.” She swallowed a lump that had managed to form in her throat before she began speaking once more, forcing herself to appear at least somewhat confident about what she was saying. “I hadn’t necessarily expected to be thrown into the whole arsonist thing, I was more so looking for, I don’t know, maybe being a bartender or something?”
At the mention of her college plans, Claire’s orbs dropped to the wood panels that covered the floor. 1, 2, 3... She had to focus on the numbers to calm herself down, to hide the emotions that would surely present themselves as she discussed something that she hardly liked thinking about let alone discuss. “I had planned to go to college like most of the kids my age. My family had been super excited because I would be the first one not to join into the gangs.” The heavy feeling had already settled in her chest but she had to fight through to prove that she was just as worthy as the next hopeless individual who needed a job from the Baldwin Boys.
“I watched my best friends get shot at Balfour Boardwalk and after that, I just shut myself off. I turned to alcohol, cigarettes. I started to search for trouble. I would go out and look for someone who wanted to fight. Men, women, anyone.” Her eyes had filled with tears but the tears had not been due to sadness, instead it had been a result of her anger. “I lost my scholarship, I lost my friends, I even lost myself.”
“This is going to sound like a fucking cliche, but this group, these people it’s all I have now.”
ne3n:
“Yeah, the stories aren’t too great. Honestly it was fun when I was a teenager but now…” he shook his head, “I couldn’t bring myself to try it anymore. I mean, you see it first hand and the fun isn’t really there anymore.”
“Go ahead and try me. I have faith in myself.”
“I get where you’re coming from, Cyrus. We’re already doomed for a short existence anyway considering our relationship with N.E.3., drugs would only make the ending come much, much quicker.”
“Clearly you’re giving yourself far too much credit, pal.”
georgina-amador:
Georgina pursed her lips together to try and hide the laugh that seemed to want to ruin their quiet little moment. Hearing her hope that when her time came that the attack wouldn’t be violent was somehow laughable. Beaumont screams violence. The fact that she herself had order execution style deaths for individuals in the past proved it. “What a naive thought. It’s almost cute and also sad in a way for you to hope that. Still, maybe even I will hope that nothing like that will befall you…fingers crossed.” So the woman did have a name, one that Georgina would likely keep in the back of her mind if the two ever crossed paths again. Claire Lockhart, what a pretty name. It fits you quite well.”
“It may be naive on my behalf but I think my lack of association with any group acts as some kind of get out of jail free card in a sense. I’m well aware that even being neutral in Beaumont will result in some sort of pain and suffering, but nothing can be worse than dying at the hands of a pissed off thug.” Claire assumed it was best not to reveal the fact that she was not only the bartender for one of the Amador Family’s biggest rivals but had previously worked for the now disbanded Baldwin Boys. The last thing the blonde needed was for Georgina Amador to be on her case, ordering hits on her life. She already had to worry about the threat of Caspar cutting her throat in her sleep as a result of her apparent disloyalty. “Thank you. That’s a very nice thing to say.” Her brows knitted at the last remark though, curiosity getting the better of her. “May I ask why you think it fits me well?”
Fire & Gasoline -- Caspar (flashback).
caspar-jaager:
Are you Caspar?
God, how he loved the confused tone with which every single one of them asked the question.
It made Caspar smile, from ear to ear, genuinely amused and his heart warmed. It’d draw a chuckle out, too, from time to time, but that was only on his good days. Today was a good day, and when he faced the girl he laughed softly, approaching her to take her hand and shake it. There was nothing he didn’t love about them seeing him for the first time and be utterly surprised. People usually expected some old, grizzly man that had an intimidating face and heavy bass in his voice. What they got was him: a slender boy with gentle feautres and a charming smile.
His right hook told a different tale.
“That’s me,” he said and shook Claire’s hand, pressure firm. “What, you were hoping for something else?” It was a tease to lighten the mood. The nervous air she had about her was practically vibrating but hey, Cas was here to make the transition easy for the new recruits. It might not have been the best of jobs, but one that was needed. And for Isaac, he’d do anything. “Claire, huh? Why don’t you sit down and tell me a bit about yourself?”
The pressure of the handshake caused the nerves to rise once more, a rather anxious smile managed to find its way to her lips but she was certain Caspar could see right through her. Claire’s parents had not divulged much information about the man other than the fact that Isaac had taken a liking to him and had been grooming the man for the position of leader should such a time come. Her father had insisted that he was nothing more than a brat whilst her mother had used the words “an interesting character”.
Claire immediately sat down at his suggestion, taking a moment to wiggle once or twice before she was completely comfortable. There was a sigh at the thought of sharing intimate details of her life with someone she had only heard things about. She had been desperate for an escape from the nightmares of losing her friends but the last thing that she had wanted was to talk to someone about herself. After all, there was not a lot to share.
“Well, that depends on what you’d like to hear.” A hand brushed nervously against her throat, the skin beneath having flushed a deep crimson from the anxiety and embarrassment of being placed on the spot. The blonde cleared her throat before beginning, deciding to be as truthful as she could be. “I was meant to go to college this year but plans changed and it kind of left me with no where else to go. My parents were always adamant that my true calling was in the business with them but I...”
“I guess I didn’t want to become some sort of thug, ya know?”
clifford-monroe:
Cliff couldn’t do much but offer a timid smile at her kind words. Not many had the decency to even say a simple I’m sorry. In fact the people who knew Hayden only spat out traitor in his face. They were happy the person who decided to turn their back on the group was run over like garbage. “It’s okay, you just…live with it I guess.” He let out a shaky laugh trying to get over the awkwardness, as all he could do was hug his groceries to his chest as if they could make the anxiety and pain fade.
The moment they no longer locked eyes, Cliff got his confirmation. If he was more like Hayden he wouldn’t be afraid of finding Caspar and giving him a piece of his mind. Cliff might have had a couple of years of life ahead of Caspar, but that boy had a fire that could swallow him in an instance.
“Still…” he paused, looking down at the broken hand. “For him to do that is insane. He still has no control over that temper. I mean how does a slap equal a broken hand?”
“You know that you don’t have to bottle it all up, right? I’m always going to be here if you need to talk about it, Cliff.” The blonde’s hand reached out but after some thought, she retracted it and simply smiled. She had known first hand how painful the loss of someone close could be but she had never experienced something as painful as losing a family member. All she could do was offer some support and sympathy for her friend even though she was sure it was the last thing that he wanted or needed.
It was hard to think of time in which Caspar had not been so aggressive. From the moment Claire was introduced to him, it was clear that he was not one to cross. She had learnt that fact first hand. It was a cop out to believe she deserved to find herself on the receiving end of such a serious issue but it was her way of rationalizing the entire interaction. For every action, there would always be a greater reaction. She had learnt that long ago and yet had been foolish enough to believe that Caspar would not react so harshly toward her.
“You and I both know that Caspar’s never done a sane thing in his life, Cliff. But I guess the fact that I decided to leave the group really fucked with him more than I thought it would.”
juno-kennedy:
“I can certainly imagine it, but if I were them, I don’t think I’d risk the humiliation. I mean, what real point would there be? Nothing would bring them back at this point.” Juno shrugged, having been fairly honest. She didn’t see a reason for any of the Boys to do anything besides cut and run at this point.
“Oh, thank you! I’d say it was effortless, but we both know I probably spent far too much time preparing for this party. It’s just very nice to actually enjoy something for once, don’t you think?”
“I don’t think a group such as the Baldwin Boys is afraid of being some sort of spectacle for all the city to see after all, the group seemed to have only been excited at all the press and attention the arrests brought.” As much as she believed in the mission of the Baldwin Boys, it was hard not to feel some second-hand embarrassment for the things that the group did.
“I think almost every person in this building spent far too much time preparing for the party but I suppose that’s one of the most-do’s for one of these events. I must say though, it has certainly paid off for you. And I agree, it’s refreshing to be able to enjoy an event without the fear of violence clouding the evening.”
ne3n:
“People will do anything Claire. I mean, anything,” he laughed. “And hey, don’t take it out on me that you have a shitty immune system. Ain’t my fault. And even if you do, I’m not getting sick. Unlike you I have an immune system of steel.”
“I’ve always wanted to give drugs a try but some of the horror stories make me quite anxious to do any of them.” She cannot help but cringe at the thought of the stories she had heard, especially regarding the drugs created by N.E.3. “I would like to test the theory of your immune system of steel by placing you in the same room as the gross men. Maybe if you come out one-hundred percent healthy and maybe then I’ll believe you.”
ne3n:
“God, have you never met a teen on their first shrooms high? Holy shit it gets weird. Like, these kids do stupid shit when they’re high. I’m surprised we haven’t had more incidents around there…” he shook his head. “At least it builds up your immune system, right? I mean it’s like working at a school, if everyone around you’s sick you build up a tolerance.”
“Wait. People still take shrooms?” The blonde paused momentarily to laugh, a hand wrapped around her ribs as she allowed herself to work out all the amusement. “That’s the best thing I have heard in a long time.” It was not much of a surprise that Claire didn’t know about drugs considering she had never taken any herself. “Or you don’t build up a tolerance and get sick every time some asshole coughs in your face. The next time I get sick, I’m going to track you down and see if you have a tolerance.”
georgina-amador:
“You better. You have such a lovely face, it would be a honest shame if someone attacked you with a knife and ruined it.” Taking a large gulp of her drink, Georgina let out a laugh enjoying the banter shared between her and the other woman. She had the guts to state her opinion, but she was also smart enough to know when to stop talking before it got her throat slit. Georgina continued to smile before taking another glass off a waiter’s tray and passed it to the woman. “I think that would be a good move miss…what is your name anyway?”
The blonde could not help but close her eyes at Georgina’s words. The last thing that she wanted to think of was being attacked by one of the thugs who worked for one of the other groups. Claire reopened her eyes and stared at the woman, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “I’m sure the time will come when someone attacks me although I’m hoping it won’t be as violent as you have just described.” She had seen how quick and painless the death of her friends had been that fateful night, and that was how she had always imagined death would greet her. Quick and painless. Perhaps without her even knowing it. As the alcohol was placed before her, Claire took a sip. “Claire, Claire Lockhart.”