DEVIL TAKES HOLD

[zephyrjcksn]

lcuisbergercn​:

Place: Le Rouge Person: @zephyrjckson​

Never before in Louis’s career did he ever wish that his work would slow down. He had always relished staying busy, having a sense of purpose through it. However, the past year or so had changed him more than the years he had spent previously with the Syndicate. He had planned on attainting the rank of Made Man and would be content to stay there. Something in him had changed, or perhaps snapped. So when he finally had a free evening, he sought out the company of the man who could potentially help.

Thinking for a moment, the most he had seen the other man in the past had been the night they shared a jail cell together. The memory caused a smile to start on his lips, remembering how much he had tried to hide his fear from Zephyr, having never been in jail before that night. He had come out with a respect for the man, and a new resolve to ensure he never got caught in his work. Sitting down the the man’s right, Louis glanced at cleared his throat. “So, what are we drinking?” 

The stirring of the seat beside him as it was taken up barely caused Zephyr to look twice. Azure hues that once relegated themselves ahead, sight disappearing in lieu of his thoughts, shifted. It certainly wasn’t who he might have expected - too few of his own men would so openly approach him. Not out of his own lacking promise that they could, self awareness told the irishman that the art of intimidation simply bled from him without intended purpose. Yet still, Louis was a surprising candidate for someone who might have sought to change his mind. Fingers snatched up the bottle beside him, the bartender having already sought a second glass for his company, “Spiced rum, triple distilled, smooth as silk.” Pouring out a glass, he pushed the glass across the bar top to the other.  Interesting, to say the least. A myriad of questions settled on the tip of his tongue as to what Louis might have sought him out for - if there was a reason held behind it at all. He’d certainly not seen enough of the man, neither utilized him as well as he might have liked. Perhaps, it was time for a change. “You’re a long fuckin’ way from the ER, Louis. You sure you ain’t fuckin’ lost?” The hardened quip softened by the titillated edge of his tone, amusement unmistakable.  

[zephyrjcksn]

isaacxharris​:

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?”

“Door was open.” He pointed out without an ounce of care for whether it was indeed open. One could never be too careful around Montreal - leaving a door wide open like that simply offered an invite to the wrong sorts. Ironic, that he’d be such an offering this time around. Still, as the Vittori spoke, Zephyr simply raised a heavy brow, relegating azure hues with a certain nonchalance he’d perfected over the years. “Perhaps you should fix that, save yourself a little trouble down the road, Harris” - as if it hadn’t just walked right through the front door. “No clue, I’ve heard good things though, anythin’ you recommend...” Hues cast lazily across the room, seeking out something worth storing to memory beyond the man himself. 

[zephyrjcksn]

stefanvalenti​:

WHERE. Le Rouge Bar

WHEN. Around Midnight

WITH. Open to All

LONG LIMBS CARRIED THE MALE TOWARD THE EXIT, shutting the door behind him with a subtle click. Reaching a halt at the balcony, Stefan fixed a cigarette between his teeth whilst producing a lighter from the confines of his pocket. Rolling his thumb against the spark wheel, his free hand lifted to cup around the end of the stick ; shielding the naked flame against the light breeze. Taking a long drag from the smoke, the dark-haired male reclined his head slightly to blow a cloud of vapour into the cool night air. The sudden sound of door hinges creaking roused the Capo’s attention, dark eyes drifting to settle upon the figure hovering in the doorway. “ Care to join me? ” He inquired, an indifferent tone settling into his voice as he flicked the end of his cigarette ; watching the flecks of ash drift toward the ground beneath his feet. “ I promise I won’t bite. ” A lazy smirk slid across his lips then, a glimmer of mirth shining in his inky gaze.

Company wasn’t something he ever truly sought out. Despite his ownership of the nightclub, Zephyr had very little desire to spend any which amount of time trapped within the founding walls with those that frequented it. It was little more than a heavy cover for the unspeakable that thrived beneath it. It was the steady thrum of music reverberating through the floor of the balcony that the Ivory Boss too often sought. A chaotic cacophony that drew him like moth to flame as he watched the street below. All those that came and left, piecing together what might have been missed beneath the flash of neon lights within. The familiar smell of cigarette pulled him short, a barely noticeable slip in his step as he took in the sight of the Vittori before him. “I’ll pass,” he noted heavily, the clipped edge of his irish accent almost too animated for a man such as he. Instead, Zephyr allowed heavy footfalls to carry him beyond the threshold to settle against the balcony itself, the drink in his hand set down. “An’ here I thought we mighta’ been about to have a good time out here,” given, that he was far less worried about what those around could twist around their tongue and label a threat - he in fact, promised nothing of the sort. “Can’t promise I’ll be so ready to promise you the same.”

[zephyrjcksn]

frxmeden​:

@zephyrjckson

WHERE: Blood & Bone Tattoo Studio &&: Luca Vecellio + Zephyr Jackson

Yonkers thumped from the studio’s speakers, grounded by the static hum of the tattoo gun as it glided across skin. The lone artist in the shop was hard at work, detailing an expansive back piece weeks in the making. A gigantic, serpentine dragon wound from the crux of the shoulders to curl protectively around a flaming pearl in the woman’s sacrum. Cliche, yes, but a good way to eat up some spare time. The bell tinged over the door, causing a pair of blue-green eyes to flick up. Luca smirked to see who it was, tonguing the toothpick he usually held in sessions to the other side of his mouth. The man in question breezed through the shop once in a blue moon, on his own schedule. Luca didn’t mind it, though. It kept the days interesting. He wiped at the blood that had beaded along the fresh line of ink, and let out a long, low whistle at his handiwork. 

After wrapping up with his client and cutting the cash, Luca stepped outside for a smoke break. It was unseasonably warm this late in the evening, but the break in Canada’s relentlessly spiteful weather was a welcome one. He let himself enjoy it. The Ivory waited, leaning against the brick-faced building and watching the unwitting passers-by that knew nothing of the war unfolding on their streets until the bell chimed again. The flash of tawny hair drew his eye, causing a jolt of excitement to roll through him. “At first, I didn’t believe them when they told me you owned this place. I thought it felt a little… beneath you.” The man said, flicking his cigarette. “There’s no laundering, no under-the-counter deals, nothing. Not to mention we’ve been held up twice since I started working here. Why do you keep it?”

Long before Milena had arrived in Montreal - Zephyr had come ahead of time, gone about settling himself up as an unknown within the city, under the guise of taking over the bustling tattoo studio while he scoped out the many ways in which the Vittori worked. If anyone might have asked - his presence in the city didn’t come to light until long after then. Zephyr’s long standing ability to stick to the shadows and remain as unknown as possible had given them an insight before the Vittori had set their eyes on Ivory at all.  Blood and Bone was clean business, good business and one that could easily be linked to the Irishman, while he remained as much a phantom in the myriad of others that ran murky with the blackened veins of the criminal enterprise. The tattoo studio certainly wasn’t his focus anymore, the capable hands of those he’d employed had long since understood his stance on how he wanted it run - by the book, and with little room to budge on the matter. If it wasn’t already known, most would hardly suspect the Ivory to have a hand in it. Dropping one of the sketch books left behind at the Ivory tower had been little more than the push Zephyr had needed to check in on things. Something he didn’t like to do all too often, hovering simply wasn’t something he did. Stepping back beyond the threshold into the street, the blonde first relegating azure hues to Luca and then back through the doors of the studio, a hapless smirk toying at the edge of his mouth. “Any man that’s good at doin’ business knows that nothin’ is beneath him.” And truly, he believed as much. “You expect there to be somethin’ else goin’ on here? Little obvious, don’t you think?” A point that Zephyr knew most people would assume, but the entirety of the Ivory couldn’t be fronted with blood money, and though it wasn’t the only place that held such merit - legitimacy had to span the front line where possible. “Why are you still here?” Turning the question on it’s head was merely a curiosity as he reached to pluck the cigarette from the others fingertips, drawing it to his own lips, “If we’ve been held up twice an’ it bothers you so much, why not find another shop?” 

[zephyrjcksn]

brie-hunter​:

@zephyrjcksn​

Trust was never given blindly when it came to Brie, especially in regards to men. Though she despised the cliche of having daddy issues, her father left her broken and battered on multiple occasions. The man tore her mother’s sense of being to shreds. After her mother died, the first man she allowed in used her in away she did not permit. Years turned by as she battled to grasp onto any kind of power or sense of being that the men in her life slowly stole from her.Zeph turned every preconceived notion on it’s head. Instead of removing that which gave her power he added to it. He gave her skills. He empowered her. So, trust between the two was earned.

Settling into the leather sofa that sat within the tattoo shop for as long as she had known, the raven haired woman let her eyes dance around lazily. She appreciated the lack of business, which allowed her to hang around for the time being. “Sit.” She mused lightly, watching the man. There was no clocking out in this life - always work to be done, always a move to make, always something. Considering recent events with Em, Scotty, and Alex all arriving back in town, to the Vargas show of power which consisted of ending Lorenzo - an assumption of course, knowing it wasn’t an Ivory move, to the regular ups and downs, Brie knew the silent man’s wheels were turning. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask for my two cents, but you haven’t” She quipped lightly, only teasing. “So, instead, maybe you should just relax for a moment.”

It wasn’t something that caused him stress - Zephyr had undoubtedly been set on the path of leadership since well before he’d left Ireland. The command his family name, and then his own carried carved a demand that too few had seen over the years. Tying it to the King’s in New York had been easily accepted and inarguably a fitting match for two men who’d wanted little more than to watch the world around them burn - while everything they wanted remained untouched. The violence of the Ivory Syndicate unmatched for a plethora of different reasons, and Zephyr had merely added to that with his own hands - and those he trusted and steered in the right direction. He didn’t seek to instill fear - it was a feeling he knew came with knowledge and awareness, hitched to the tail end of a trust and belief that Zephyr would always impart on those willing enough. His reckless venture didn’t extend to carelessness, and yet, all those around him were expendable at the dire end of such a spectrum; to which he’d never find apology. He simply cared more about gain than emotional attachment. Those that slipped through and sought to understand him beyond a figure head understood that, perhaps more than most.  Flicking the switch of the Autoclave, Zephyr watched the golden hour beyond spill through the front windows of the shop, the peaceful moments never quite so as of late. With a mind that never seemed to slow - neither overworked nor overwhelmed, a simple never ending game of chess, he’d found that with Sera gone, he’d taken less and less time to lay such thoughts aside. “I figured you’d just gimme’ your two cents without my askin’,” A brow arched as he turned, azure hues finding her over his shoulder before he snatched the closest chair, swiveling it around to face Brie and sat down.“Ain’t that what you usually fuckin’ do?” Not something he usually had to tolerate, as too many refused to arc up - but he knew that Brie didn’t seek to steer him wrongly. “I’m relaxed - this is me,” his hands raised in a somewhat grand  gesture, “relaxed.”

[zephyrjcksn]

dcrekbishop​:

@zephyrjcksn​

Despite the chaos of the party, the Syndicate seemed to be successful in their plan. And Derek did his best to be on his premier behavior. He wasn’t going to be the reason why Zeph would be pissed, no fucking way. Most of the time, he just listened to his superiors and did what he was supposed to do. After a long night, he was eager to catch up with Zephyr in the morning. He was a bit hungover, but that’d eventually go away. “Mornin,” He mumbled, “Well, did we manage to get what we needed?”

The Ivory tower had been slow to come to life that day - despite the news of Lorenzo’s untimely death. It was no bother to him. Though the bullet from a weapon that Zephyr wielded had taken out the man’s son over a year before hand in a shot that had never been meant for him in the first place. The underboss hadn’t felt it as a failure, not while the tightened noose around the Vittori patriachs neck and the undoubted sense of the city enclosing in him with his sons murder - it’d been interesting to play out. It gave him time at least - knowing it would take some time to regroup, just as it had in the wake of Milena’s execution; perhaps the perfect opportunity before the Vargas thought to strike against the Ivory. “You look like fuckin’ shit.” He grumbled, the hint of amusement unmistakable despite it, “I’m workin’ on it, but for the time bein’ I don’t want anyone knowin’ specifics on who’s got those guns, or where they are. We play it right an’ we can bring a little heat down as our own gracious welcome gift to the Vargas --- A thank you for gettin’ Lorenzo outta’ the way.” A ballpark assumption, but considering he knew they didn’t have a hand in it..

[zephyrjcksn]

emiliaking​:

She knew, the day she landed, that the repercussions of her sudden exit were going to catch up to her. They appeared armed with knives that cut into Emilia’s skin: Marco yelling on the phone like she’d never heard before, the look of betrayal on Nina’s face, and the harsh words Zephyr had thrown in her direction. Maybe it would’ve been easier to stay in Antalya, to never weather each storm that she very much deserved… who she was before would’ve burst into tears at the edge in his voice. However, the woman in Milena’s office had resigned herself to taking responsibility for her actions. It was sure as hell time to. “Okay… let me start off by saying I fucked up.” Emilia stopped, letting out a small breath, eyes willing themselves to meet his. “Disappearing was one stupidest decisions I could’ve made and it was the last thing anyone needed on their plate to worry about, with everything that happened.” Though Turkey was relatively safe for a King, it didn’t get rid of the what-ifs. The Ivory Syndicate’s enemies had a far reach, and had her cards fallen the wrong way, she could’ve easily been joining her mother six feet under.

 “I turned my back on you guys, I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I ran away like a coward. I’m sorry… I know that’s not worth much right now, but I really am sorry. Especially since you were willing to go out of your way to tell me the truth when you didn’t have to.” Her voice was steady, nails digging into her skin as a reminder to keep her poise. Zephyr was the one who told her the impossible, the very gates of hell spilling into the hospital hallway the day her mother died. Who else could say the same?  “That year, as terrible as it was, made me realize that I don’t want be some sitting duck, waiting around to see whose gun is gonna pull the trigger this time.”  The fantasy she’d been living in for years came crashing down, ivory cities burning with candor knowledge. Yet in sifting through the ash, she could feel her skin burn then harden like stone. Emilia refused to be left in the dark. “I’m not my mom or dad, but I’m not useless. My job, my field, - what I know could be helpful. And what I don’t, I’ll learn.” Looking at the face of a man she’d known her whole life, the loaded words finally left her mouth. “What I’m asking is to get involved. I’m not that delicate kid anymore, I can handle it now.” 

The weight of the empire resting on his shoulders was something that he’d been prepared for, for years now - Marco and Milena had never shied away from making sure Zephyr knew what was to come. All of which he’d understood explicitly, his previous and remaining standing with the IRA one that had introduced him to the rule of hierarchy well before the Ivory had. Yet, it wasn’t something that he would inherit alone, regardless of whether Emilia held a designated position among them or not - the Ivory kingdom that would rise from the ashes of the Queen’s execution would be something that he couldn’t build without the daughter left behind. He knew that just as well as anyone, and truly - he’d held no intention on keeping it from her. The initial push back from Marco had been understandable, Zephyr had told Em things that she would have been better off not knowing, yet his argument remained that the girl he’d watched grow up - would never settle for no answers. The easiest way to make her understand anything they did, was to simply tell her, save her finding out the gritty truth of the King name from someone willing to tarnish it.  The standing fact that Emilia - with Scotty in tow, the false death of his best friend, a detail that nobody knew he was aware of for very specific reasons - had skipped town after he’d offered her the answers she’d asked for burnt disappointment and anger through him. A careless decision that could have ended in disaster even with his eyes fixed permanently on them while gone, left him with a distrust that he hadn’t yet known what to do with it. “You’re right, it was fuckin’ stupid.” Not something that he’d voiced as much even on their return. “Everythin’ that your mother and the rest of us wanted to protect you from was undone with your own recklessness, and you’re fuckin’ lucky that I found you before anyone else could.” An admittance, that he’d known where she was for far longer than most. “Nobody blames you for being torn up about losing Lena,” his rough timbre grave, “But I told you everythin’ because that’s what you asked me to do, Em. You don’t get handed the answers to everythin’ like that and get a free pass for not likin’ what you hear.” Zephyr hadn’t expected her to take the reality of her world easily, but after everything, he might have expected a little warning - something that didn’t leave Zephyr with his eyes drifting from the warzone of Montreal, to find a runaway King. An act that could have been fatal for them once again.  Nothing she brought to light wasn’t something he’d already considered. Telling Emilia the truth had opened the belly of their world to her and he couldn’t rightly expect her to remain neutral unless that was something she desired. The problem was, everyone knew who she was - every facet of the war that raged knew the King name, so many waiting to see how, and when the child of the Ivory commanders might take up the blade herself. “What you know and what you do makes you suspicious. Usin’ that could destroy everythin’ you’ve ever wanted in your life.” Never quite the advocate for a normal life, he knew ensuring Emilia knew she had a choice was something Marco wanted. Especially if it had the potential to backfire on them entirely. “If this is what you want, you can’t change your mind, ever. Once you’re in, that’s it until you’re six feet under.” Harsh, perhaps, but nobody that allowed Ivory to become steel in their bones was misdirected in understanding what their end might be. “You can handle it now.” The Ivory figure head repeated, drawing a thumb across his chin, “You got’ anywhere to be anytime soon?”

[zephyrjcksn]

emiliaking​:

Zephyr;

Where: The King’s Penthouse | Milena King’s Study When: 6am, A day after Lorenzo Vittori’s death

It’d been the only thing on the news, each broadcast detailing the passing of Lorenzo Vittori. And while Emilia knew it was a terrible thing to celebrate, she couldn’t bring herself to care. Let him rot in the ground, become food for the worms, it was what a man like that deserved. After all, it’d been his lips that gave the order to kill her mother… The residence was fairly empty, a gruff voice catching her attention as she busied herself in the kitchen. Zephyr. It’d been a year ago that she’d heard the truth from the man, opening up pandora’s box that ultimately pushed her to leave. And while it’d ate away at her for months, it’d also spurred a change within her. This life was something that would always stick with her, and if she was damned by her name, then she could at least pick the path she took to fall from grace.

A cup of coffee in her hands, Emilia found her way to her mother’s old study. One room she’d refused to step foot in. Until now. The door was left slightly ajar, just enough that she could see a gleam of blond hair, a figure sitting at the desk. It was strange feeling apprehensive about talking to someone she knew so well, someone she trusted. Hell, Zephyr had been forced to sit through ballet recitals when Milena or Marco couldn’t make it… She knocked on the door, making her way inside to set down the mug on the desk. “I just made a fresh pot, figured you might want some considering most of the world still isn’t up and the day’s most recent developments.” For the most part, the room had barely changed. The green wallpaper, the dark and expensive furniture, pictures from memories passed. All were reminders- like her mother would appear around the corner, a stern look painted on her face. “You know, you can redecorate this room if you want- I never told my mom this, but I always thought it was a bit much.” Emilia said with a smile, before she took a seat. “I… I wanted to ask you something- if you’re busy, I can come back later though?”

@zephyrjckson​

It didn’t surprise him in the least. Zephyr knew that Lorenzo’s death wasn’t their doing which really only left the one notable explanation to the Vargas. Regardless of whether there were certainties in the how - he knew that there were too few people within the city willing to take out someone so prominent. The city would face too much backlash if it fell to their shoulders but the Vargas had the same ample opportunity as the Ivory had. Perhaps the only difference remained, Zephyr wouldn’t have allowed the man to die comfortable in, no matter how painful it might have been. It was far too fleeting for his liking and for what the Vittori had taken from them, he had little doubt that any single one of his men would have disapproved such a quick death. Nevertheless, it didn’t give him any reason to slow down, not yet. Usually, the early hours of the morning would grant him the quiet that crept up in the wake of maneuvering the shadows, the time so often used to determine the next move he pushed the Ivory towards. The interruption however, wasn’t as much unwelcome as it was questionable. He’d made absolutely no effort in hiding his disapproval or anger over Emilia’s decision to leave the way she had. In the wake of her mothers death, he’d opened doors for the King’s daughter than he knew she wasn’t ready for, yet that she deserved to know. Opened doors and offered the same thing he always had - family outside of the one she already had. That he could, not so easily, give her the answers she was looking for and be left catching the chaos and uncertainty that had befallen his shoulders with Emilia’s chosen disappearance, irritated him to no end. Loyalty was something that Zephyr sought, but he knew that loyalty couldn’t be earned without respect - of which Emilia King had snapped of her own accord. Now, he watched silently as she came into the room and placed the mug down on the desk for him. “You can do whatever you want with the room, Emilia. This is your home after all.” He noted rather sharply, uncertain as to whether it bloomed with intention or simply slipped through grit teeth simply through a lack of care. Shifting in his seat, elbows perched against the desk as she took a seat, he wondered if this was a conversation that would end well - he’d had too few of those lately. “I’ve always told you, you can ask me anythin’ Em.” 

[zephyrjcksn]

isaacxharris‌:

He was going to take his time with these speciality candies. It wasn’t everyday you could just walk onto someone’s property and hopefully not be judged for looking at confections and sweets since it wasn’t like they were out of his way or anything. Not long after, he was gathering a few sweets for himself. This was a pretty good idea, actually. Maybe he should have a candy stand at the brewery. Once he made his way to some tiny gummy bears, Isaac shook his head. “I’m not sure anyone will like those” He remarked to the closest person, “If it’s not sour, who’s going to want ‘em. Am I right or am I right?” 

A strange offering and one he’d paid little mind to until now, the prompting from the knowing man beside him shifting Zephyr’s gaze from the drink in his hand to the confectionery. “Never been much of a candy guy,” He spoke, rough timbre barely surpassing the cacophony of sounds around them. The Vittori underboss someone familiar enough to him - a face, name.. last known address, all details that Zephyr could recall if necessary. “Doubt all too many people are payin’ much attention to ‘em either. Doesn’t really measure up to everythin’ else they’re offerin’.” Right next to the healthy serving of curiosity and uncertainty that hung in the air - an observation rather than something he felt himself. “But I suppose, you’re not workin’ with much, so small minds…”

[zephyrjcksn]

serakaran‌:

Special delivery for bae: @zephyrjcksn​

We’re touching down now. Welcome home, Ms. Karan. 

The pilot’s words spoken mere hours prior referred to an empty runway on some abandoned airstrip outside of Montreal, yet to Sera there had always been an underlying depth to such a demure phrase. Long had it shifted from a physical location and since become an active choice, an undeniable feeling, a specific person. Beyond her desire to receive any comprehensive update regarding their situation with two opposing enemies flanking either side of the Syndicate, came the undeniable obligation to discover his state of mind. Twelve and a half years operating side-by-side and never had the pair been separated for such an extended duration. No matter how necessary to ensure a proper hand off of Sera’s former responsibilities to Jackie’s capable hands, distance placed undue strain and relief would only be found in reunion.

Glamorous city wide events were a norm for their line of business, both the legitimate and illegitimate ones, but this particular party, coupled with natural apprehension, left an uncomfortable knot in her stomach. One that could not be relieved until she located the subject of her search, the reigning leader who nearly parted the crowd with his very presence. 

Those surrounding him pivoted upon catching a glimpse of her approach, at the very least intelligent enough to never stand between Sera and Zephyr. Neither would display any sort of public affection, however that hardly stopped the playful quip she reserved for him alone. “I was told on my way here that Le Rouge didn’t go bankrupt while I was gone. It turns out you might just be a decent businessman after all.”

Intriguing as it were, the procured extravagance didn’t draw Zephyr in as it did so many others. A facade, of which he was sure. Purely because he’d seen the workings of the darkest of beings and understood all too well that the art of distraction was as lethal as a violent act in and of itself. It was merely a matter of when such glamorous displays would turn bloody that held his interest. Hues that leveled easily with all those he spoke to taking in every detail that so many might miss. Conversations in hushed tones, the linger of a hand a moment too long, dire glanced between associates. The oversight of Milena’s death had been of his own making, a momentary shift that only told him they weren’t enough steps ahead and the war that ensued only furthermore proved that for a split second - they’d underestimated the Vittori. A rough pill to swallow - yet one that he refused to choke on as yet. His every effort to pull them from the ground up only left them as strong as their weakest soldier; a fact that Zephyr intended to swiftly change - he could only protect those willing to offer the same in return.

Thoughts which all plagued an never slowing mind, despite conversation splitting to things far more mundane. The interruption was one that he easily welcomed, one that had yet painted itself in a heady light beyond the parting of those around him. Turning, it was devastatingly obvious to what might have offered such a reaction, and while one of such reasons did not pose itself in a momentary standoff in any light; she was perhaps more distracting. Conversation around him lulled to a dull roar as he shifted to meet her. His towering figure didn’t seek to overwhelm, hands pressed deeply into the pockets of his pants as she spoke, the toying, unbridled lift of his brow at her jest a far easier one to offer than that of those surpassing the months she’d been gone. “You’d think by now that nothin’ would have been a ‘cause for worry between us, an’ yet here you are, doubtin’ my ability to run a fuckin’ bar.”

[zephyrjcksn]

ambrosenina‌:

There were some people who had always been there, lurking in the shadows of her childhood before being introduced into the light. They were protectors, they were allies, they were family, and none had been more prevalent in Nina’s life than Zephyr Jackson.

Nina knew that he would hate being here. Not only was a fancy party decidedly not his thing, but nothing good ever happened when Montreal’s powerhouses were in close proximity. He’d be on high alert, he’d want to go home and get down to business…so she would have to entertain him. Her eyes scanned the crowd and when she managed to locate the Ivory underboss, Nina made a beeline to him.

“Hey, do you want some crostini?” She presented an appetizer plate closer to his face than necessary so he could better see the offering. “I don’t know exactly what’s on it, but it’s not bad. I mean, I’ve had better, but this is Canada.”

@zephyrjcksn​

Obligation had changed; no longer did his presence carry with it the underlying mystery of a man that lived within the shadows, instead it carried the weight of the Syndicate. One that he’d been fully prepared to undertake as per Milena’s discretion some months before the entirety of the organisation had shifted and while the shadows still offered to carry him, he was more than aware that this was certainly not the night for it. Little more than dogs at war, this remained to be the moment at which each and everyone of them were sized up, regardless of who or where they belonged. The reckless and foolish would become weakened links, a permeating mark etched to the memory of all those who looked on - and Zephyr had little intention of allowing what he’d begun to rebuild to be seen as weak. It did, however, offer some skepticism as Nina drew nearer. Hues stoic across the plate she offered with only a hint of amusement. He’d made it no secret that he’d been unhappy with her - his trust not something so easily gained, and when lost or damaged, an even more difficult thing to win back. “No, Nina, I don’t want a crostini, you have it.” He sighed heavily, the corner of his mouth twitching a smile that remained elusive to some. “With any luck, the longer you’re chewin’ on somethin’ other than your own words, you might not say something’to irritate me so early on in the night.”