Character Roster:

Finntello Terrence / 24 / Male / Cop / 85543
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Blake Borrelli / 26 / Male / Cop / 272291
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Nicholas Accardi / 46 / Male / Mafia / 85543
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Verrück Achen / 23 / Male / Mafia / 318301
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Seren Evans / 25 / Female / Cop / 185486
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Nina Krakowiac | 22 | Female | Mafia | 312640
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Valencia Strix / 29 / Female / Cop / 315026
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Caspian Cadogan / 28 / Male / Mafia / 315026
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Mylo Drakovar /28 / Male / Mafia / 220404

Nina Krakowiac - F - 22 - Mafia - Mention(s): //

~

One week in, and Nina still couldn't believe that they were doing this.

Like, she'd do it. She totally would. Considering what she'd been told. Still, though, that didn't mean she had to like it. Or enjoy having to rebuild with the people that she had, one week ago, been trying to eradicate.

Leaning against a wall, in the shade, she quietly observed... people. Something that she'd begun doing recently - just watching.

She'd have to get up and do productive work eventually, though? She'd said she'd help in this "effort" - but what was the point of building it up when they could just as easily just knock it straight back down again?

Whatever. She'd do it. Listen. Stay silent and observe. Do the work that she'd been given, no matter how reluctantly.

So here she was. Sitting against a broken wall in the shade, not exactly doing much but observing the world.

Would it be pointless to go talk to the people who were slowly making their way around? Yes, it most definitely would be pointless. But she couldn't stay sitting against this wall forever. Even if she wanted to, it would be boring as hell. Unlike one week ago, there now no longer was any use doing what she was doing now.

So she stood up, knees briefly popping as she looked around.

Seren rose with the sun, wincing as the light danced through the rubble, flaring beams into her face with rigor. It was another blistering day, the particles in the air heating the sun to a near unbearable temperature. The sky was clear today, which was nice, but the echoing wind droned in her ears maliciously, drowning her thoughts in the torrent of noise.

She rose slowly, savoring they way her shelter offered slight solace, a reprise from the chaotic world outside. Foes had banded together quickly - not kindly, for certain, since they didn't seem capable of going an hour without a fight, but quickly, finding strength in the depleted numbers. She could hear them now, the slight scuffle of shoes, the whispering of clothes as they got to work. Rebuilding, they called it.

There was nothing to rebuild.

The world was torn, shredded to pieces from the detonation. Buildings were now husks, dangerous mazes of metal shrapnel and collapsing walls. Despite this, they continued to try, to form a semblance of community in the foreign world.

"...How quickly it all falls apart."

The words were quiet, nearly snatched away by the wind. A week ago, she wouldn't have been able to hear them, wouldn't have known someone was speaking from above her. Now, though... Now, she could hear it all. The conversations she didn't want, the words she wished to forget. The solitary mafia member, perched above, was her daily reminder that the world had changed, that she had changed, and she wasn't sure it was for the better.

The sound of the bomb detonating caused her to flinch, hands flying to her ears as she dropped into a low crouch. It hadn't been near her, she knew - the man responsible was always careful, providing just enough space to prevent those below from injuring themselves.

It didn't make the sound any quieter, though.

She sighed, the sound muted in her ears as the howling wind picked up speed. Staring across the way, Seren debated returning to her shelter for the rest of the morning. The others were awake - they would be fine without her. She didn't provide much help anyways, too distracted by the sounds, the collapse of another building a mile away, the whispering conversation of the gathered survivors. Instead, she got to work, picking up bits of rubble from the path they had created.

The shadow cast over the city was devastating. This had been home. This had been his sanctuary. Crumbled up as if it were nothing more than a wad of paper. It took years to build, and one minute to fall. It was their Rome; their crestfallen empire. Friends and family buried under the rubble, lost too soon, and long forgotten. Soot covered everything, unlike the once clean streets that Blake had grown up on. The echoes of life that once brought the city alive were nothing more than a broken record in his head, the sound warped from how long he'd been deprived of the joy.

Smoke still reached up for the sky from the view that Borrelli had. He sat in a tower from a destroyed church. The round window that'd been blown out was ideal for watching the city below. Glass shards were scattered around him, just as broken as the city. It was funny, he had never even been inside the church before recently. His back was against the cold stone, one leg dangling down off the edge. His once sandy blonde hair was streaked with dirt, his beach boy tan now adorned by more scars than there had been at start with.

His trusted canine laid not too far off, panting from the small streaks of sunlight breaking through the horizon. Blake chuckled as he watched the Fawn dog. “So sensitive, aren't you Law?” The dog lifted his head and wagged his tail, engaging with his man. The blonde went back to watching out for signs of life below. This was life… but this wasn't living. It was shocking at how fast everything changed. Would he ever adjust to this new life? Would it be better simply to have been caught in the rubble and to remember Earth as it was, or was this the better end of the deal? Blake couldn't tell you, but he sure knew his opinion on it.

At the signs of movement, the man stood up. The dog jumped up as well, alert, eyes glued on the man, waiting for any sort of commands. His jaw clenched, another day to mix with his sworn enemies. They didn't believe in the law, but they wouldn't even be so influential if there weren't laws in place. He wanted nothing more than to stay where he was and sleep the day away, but that was a bad idea considering how frugal Nicholas was. He sat in the shade while everyone else did the work. The dirty work. It was almost as dirty as the rings he'd run. This day was going to be as horrible as the last one, and the one before that, and so forth.

The world had been broken before, but this was far from broken, this was destroyed. Heartbreaking last cries for help hadn't been anyone's guess of the city's ending. His footsteps were the only noise that accompanied him as the strode to the makeshift ladder he'd made to climb down to the first floor from his newfound oasis. “Sit.” He said, his tone demanding. The dog obeyed and the cop climbed down. The sound of his feet hitting the ground bounced off the destruction around him. Blake paused, trying to figure out what it was he was hearing. Just another building crumbling in their midst. “Come.” He called up. Not even five seconds later Outlaws face peered down at him. Blake held his arms out. “Come on.” He said gruffly. “I don't have all day.” He called up.

With his dog's weight in his arms, Blake started walking towards the exit. Outlaw was quiet, and still while the man carried him. The first night in the church he'd gotten glass in a paw, and Blake wouldn't take any chances with his best friend. Blake's combat boots hit the pavement outside and the dog's feet hit it as well. The reserved man hadn't told anyone about his spot, and therefore, he had no need to clean in front of it. With a small gesture of his hand, the dog and man started off through the rubble towards the others.

Blake stopped, glaring at Nicholas sitting in his chair. Of course he was. That man had been acting as if there was a tomorrow. Blake had pushed back against the removal of the mess, saying that in combat, they'd be able to use it to their advantage. No one else had agreed with him. He looked around, seeing Seren Evans hard at work. She'd always worked hard, and he admired that about her. She had a great work ethic… It unfortunately couldn't be said about everyone in the group. (Que the side eye towards Nicholas). He motioned for his dog into the downward position in a shady spot, and he himself started to pick up small pieces of rubble with his calloused hands.

Caspian Cadogan | M | 28 | Mafia | Mentions: Finntello (indir.), Verrück (dir.)

The waning weather conditions irritated Caspian. It was unpredictable now, unpredictable things were usually his favourite. However, the dreary coldness of the past few days left much to be desired. He craved the humidity, the heat that bore down from the overbearing sun and warmed him to his core. In the week that had passed since the cruel events each and every person in this last societal stand had persevered, incredibly amusing abilities manifested with them all. Caspian was particularly smitten with his own, the burning beneath his skin was ever present, like a live wire ready to crack to life at a moment’s notice.

The morning had been uneventful so far. The woeful forms of both criminal and law milling between each other, casting harsh looks between each other. In Caspian’s mind, there was only one cop that he even deemed worthy of any attention. It was not good attention. The flash of red of flared wings drew his eyes directly towards that man. From where Caspian lay sprawled across a half tattered lazy boy couch, his wet black eyes watched with harsh anger as Finntello set about his daily routine. A rat. That was what that man was, a rat. No. Lower than a rat, a flea on that rat. Caspian’s lip curled, unable and unwilling to hide his clear dislike of the winged individual as he passed him by.

Caspian’s focus was only drawn away from the other man as a newly familiar form made his way across the clearing to perch upon a ruined car, careless of what those around him thought. In recent days, he had come to appreciate the pessimistic view of Verrück. He was a person that bluntly stated the dire situation they found themselves in with little restraint, something many of this strange community didn’t dare voice. Especially the cops. Verrück was not only a breath of fresh air in this suffocating environment, he was a wild card. Caspian held a deep love for the unpredictable and the wild. A trait which had clearly manifested into his fiery mutation.

It took him a moment to heavy his weary body from the couch, his wiry lean form had become even more sullen in the past week. With little food to go around, he was wasting away along with everyone else. It made his bones ache and his muscles scream with each movement, not that he would ever let it show. His hair was pulled back into a haphazard ponytail, it was so short that it stuck straight out from the base of his neck and loose strands waved across his vision a jet black with the gentle breeze. Caspian’s steps were sharp and to the point, he did not dance around his objectives.

Upon his approach to Verrück, his lips curled into something that resembled a smile. Given the nature of Verrück’s mutation, it was certainly fun to toy with each other. Entertainment was difficult to come by these days, everyone moped around and droned on about rebuilding. What was the point? Perhaps they were the only people left in the world.

“I assume that pathetic explosion was your work?” He crowed as he neared the car, giving a lazy gesture behind himself to where the tower was standing on its last legs.

“Haven’t you found more parts to make better ones?” Caspian pushed. He liked the explosions, it was something he couldn’t quite perfect yet with his own bare hands. Sure, he could light a fire, send off a quick burst of scalding flame, but nothing like the enchanting crescendos that Verrück achieved.

Valencia Cobris-Strix | F | 29 | Cop | Mentions: Finntello (dir.) Verrück, Seren, Blake (indir.)

Valencia had not slept well at all, the constant shuffling of dirt in the distance as animals scurried around the planes that surrounded their ramshackle community made it hard to drift into a restful slumber. Instead, she had lay awake and stared up at the half ruined ceiling where flecks of moonlight had spilled through the broken wooden beams and dappled across her form. Strapped across her chest was her uniform. She had been on duty when it had happened. In fact, it had been her first unsupervised shift since losing Damien. The pair of them had joined the academy later than most, only having begun to serve their first year of employment at 25. It had taken many therapists to write approval letters for her mental state before the station would allow her out on anything without a chaperone to ensure she wouldn’t lose it and go hunting for the gang members that had ended her lover’s life. Whilst she had been allowed out alone, it was for short events and was often radioed to ensure her location was in line with her task.

Funny thing was, she didn’t even know who they were. It was so dark that night and the adrenaline had shocked her body into a state of survival, she couldn’t remember details. Only the hot blood that had sprayed across her bare skin and the look on Damien’s face at the light went out behind his beautiful hazel eyes. His killer could be walking among their small group and she would be none the wiser. Valencia hoped that the murderer had suffered greatly in the events that occurred a week ago. That they felt every tiny ounce of pain until they perished.

Upon the uptick in activity in the small camp, Valencia had pulled herself out from within one of the ruin building she was actively trying to clear of rubble to observe the scene. A rather typical one of hatful looks between people, the sudden shattering of morning calm by that annoying blonde haired man. He held no reservations about disrupting others, clearly as he tossed the fragment of metal down from his leaning tower and watched it combust with amusement glinting in his expression. A scowl had etched itself into her features as she lugged one more piece of concrete with a pipe jutting out of it at an awkward angle and tossed it to the wall of junk they had been forming.

Whilst Blake’s idea had been initially good, Val thought it might have been slightly more advantageous to keep any nasty business outside of their walls rather than fight from within. Which seemed to have been the consensus. Her eyes lingered on his broad shoulders before the much more familiar form of Seren flitted across her vision and stole her attention.

They had been partnered up at the beginning of Seren’s employment, a bright young thing that was eager to learn all she could from the emotionally drained older woman. Despite the lack of energy that Valencia possessed, she found solace in the enthusiasm of Seren. Secretly, Val felt that it had helped greatly in her recovery after Damien’s death. She had never voiced that thought to anyone as of yet.

As she stood watching Serent set about her task for the day a small noise from beside her made Valencia’s head swivel to watch as the winged Finntello emerged with an arc of his red feathers. She allowed him that moment to wake himself but was soon busying herself with talking.

“Are you busy today?” She held no time for greetings. “Removing the clutter from the gas station would be the best thing to do next.” Val looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to blink, then agree and begin to head towards the mostly whole building. She hoped that they could get it functioning again, find a way to siphon fuel from the wrecked cars and store it in the giant tanks beneath the concrete. So that generators and things of a similar nature could be powered, oh to have electricity would be life changing.