til' eternity passes [lennedy]

[KENNEDY LINDA RAMONE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 366x; height: 190px; padding: 10px; background-color: #dcd4c7; border: #eae4d8 10px solid;] SAVE TIME IN A BOTTLE It felt like it had been ages since Kennedy’s father had let her off of the rather short leash that he had taken to keeping his daughter on, and not a moment too soon since she was beginning to feel as if that leash were a noose around her neck that was slowly dragging the life out of her fragile body. Even to the female that was practically scratching at the walls of her bedroom and clawing up the carpets for a chance to be released from her ivory tower, her father’s willingness to let her loose into the nightlife of Boston was exceedingly curious. As if his behavior wasn’t suspicious enough, it had been under her father’s orders that Kennedy attend the event that she was currently being transported to, and without him. Kennedy honestly couldn’t remember a time in her life that she and Jackson, as she called him, had been close or even moderately good at communicating, but this was strange even for him. In a time where her father was under criminal investigation and the sting of having her mother buried in a pine box were still fresh wounds against her skin, this seemed like the least intelligent thing that the man could possibly request of the girl, but seeing as how she wasn’t exactly offered an opportunity to decline, she graciously accepted his task with a huff and a grunt. Her father had even taken the liberty of choosing the female’s attire, leaving the slinky black dress on the laid out on the female’s bed alongside a pair of dangerously tall Louboutin shoes. He was up to something, though she wasn’t entirely sure what that something might have been. The only instructions that the female had been given, were to arrive at the Irish Rose party, whatever that meant, and find a man named Connor and simply speak to him. What about? Anything. Just talk to him. Grunting, she ran her fingers through her silvery hair and slinked through the door of her bedroom, the violently red heels of her shoes clicking against the hardwood floors as she made her way towards the hallway and off to the waiting car. Ever since her mother’s death, the sight of cars brought a sickness to her stomach that she couldn’t seem to shake, the sense of dread creeping over her that if she climbed into that tinted black vehicle that she wasn’t going to come out. As far as she knew, her father was an innocent man and people were just feeding off of him because of the stacks of theoretical money in his safe and his social standing in society. She had seen it a thousand times really, in all sorts of mafia and mob movies how people always wanted control of the casinos because that was where the big money was located, and everyone wanted a taste of the big money. However, this belief was extremely naïve, even for a twenty year old girl and especially on a night like tonight when he clearly had a motive in letting her out of the cage. Every muscle in her body seemed to tense with dread as she slipped into the car, the feeling shaken only by the oversized and rather bulky male that was already seated inside: Henry, her body guard of the past year. “Hey, Henry.” Kennedy said with a light smile, the crimson painted lips of the female parting just slightly enough to show the brilliant white teeth beneath. Her smile was returned by the silent man and her attention was then focused completely on the cell phone in her hand, the screen bright with brilliant light at an incoming message for her father that said only one word: Connor. How was Kennedy even supposed to know who Connor was? According to her father, she would definitely know. After dismissing the message she gazed out the window and watched the brilliant lights of Boston rolling by outside the car window, the beautiful spines of her favorite bridge creeping up towards the sky in the distance as she disappeared deeper into the heart of the city. It seemed tonight like Boston was bursting with life, or maybe it just seemed that way because it had been so long since she had actually had a breath of fresh air and experienced something other than living life through her television or the laptop that was currently sitting on the surface of her massive bed. The closer that she seemed to arrive to the massive building where she was to do whatever it was that she was doing for her father, the more that the sense of dread seemed to grow inside of her and make her feel as if something was horribly wrong. Though Jackson’s disconnected sense of reality and obsession with work had been what had driven her mother away from him to begin with, he was becoming even more secluded and dedicated as of late, completely cutting himself off from the outside world and barely even leaving his office in the Wicked. Usually, he could be seen wandering around the casino and chatting with guests, making him known and making sure that people were winning, but that they were losing when they were winning. Now, you were lucky if you even spotted him between the distance that it took for him to get from the office to his bedroom, and only staff even got that luxury. Kennedy hadn’t even seen her father since the funeral, and even tonight his directions had been given over the intercom and not even through her cell phone since his paranoia over phone taps had grown exceedingly with the accusations. When the car had finally rolled to a stop, momentarily she shrank back in her seat and allowed her eyes to slip shut as she took a deep breath in and out through her nose and tried to at least moderately calm her nerves. Something about the entire situation didn’t sit right with her, though she wanted whole heartedly to believe that the man who fathered her was at least innocent to some degree, though the sneaking and coded missions were making him seem far from it. As the car door swung opened her endless legs met the ground in her dangerous shoes, straightening up to her full height as the door closed behind her and she waited for Henry to arrive at her side though he never came. “You’re on your own tonight, Miss Ramone.” Henry told her through the slightly opened window, making the sense of dread build even further into her gut if that was at all possible. “We thought that you earned a little freedom.” Never in the history of her existence had her father ever thought that she earned a bit of freedom, let alone barely even months after her mother’s murder and the many eyes watching him carefully. Sucking in her breath sharply, she made her way to the glass doors leading into the building, moments later arriving in the lobby and hurrying off towards the elevator before anyone could have the chance to recognize who she was. To her ultimate dismay a camera flash somewhere near the left side of her head left her momentarily stunned, the girl breaking out into an almost run as she approached the closing elevator doors. “HOLD THE DOORS.” She yelled loudly, jamming one of her feet into the space between the doors and slipping into the small space, turning towards the once more closing doors and casually holding her middle finger up for a final camera flash. “Thank you.” WORDS: 1000+ . TAGGED: LENNOX .

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[LENNOX RAFFERTY SELWYN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px] I REMEMBER WHEN WE WERE DRIVING we gotta make a decision: leave tonight or live and die this way? [/style][style=background-color: 1b1b1b; width: 200px; height: 300px; float: right; border: 0px solid #0e0e0e; padding: 8px; color: 454545; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: arial]bodies writhed around him, his party having turned into something defiled and soiled by connor's insistence in decadence and sin. not that lennox minded - those things were engrained within him in the most perverse of ways - but this was his 'thing'. this was his party, his brainchild... his baby. his entire life was built of moments where he was compared to his older brother. he wasn't as strong as connor, he wasn't as bloodthirsty as connor, he wasn't as loyal as connor, and on and on. unlike their sister and youngest brother, connor and lennox were pitted against one another in a constant battle of compare and contrast. lennox was the second son, automatically thrown into his older brother's imposing shadow, and lennox was sick of it. that was what had led to him leaving home the first opportunity he had, running to the theatre which was the farthest he could get from his family's lifestyle. he had become everything they weren't. he embodied rebellion from their ways. ultimately, his father's death was the tide that turned him. his family needed him, kahlan requested his presence, and the selwyns believed in blood above all. no matter how he despised his oldest brother, they were still blood. they were still family. he didn't agree with everything connor said or did simply because they were brothers. on the contrary, he was the first one to stand up and argue with the oldest selwyn on occasion, and connor took his advice to heart because of it. they weren't afraid of one another, and they didn't like one another. it was simple; it was their dynamic. just as lennox had forgiven connor for almost drowning him the night he'd slept with the russian mobstress. he knew, in connor's eyes, they were even. lennox had betrayed him - literally sleeping with the enemy and almost getting himself killed thereafter - and connor had taught him a lesson. blood above all. nothing less was acceptable. lennox felt no desire to prove himself to his brother - that wasn't the game they played - but, rather, he felt a desire for power. it was what drew him to gambling, that lust for the unattainable. deep down, he was a man driven by control, a trait he very much had in common with his oldest brother. the fabric of lennox's life was woven of threads of self-control and levelheadedness. he was the thinker of the four children, the planner and the plotter. he remembered details none of the others could, and he was an undeniable asset to his family and the mafia. he knew this. so, when the idea for the escort service came to him, he didn't let it pass him by. it originated with his uncle kipper's appearance in boston, informing the family their matriarch was getting remarried. he was reminded of his uncle's vices and previous endeavors as the man stayed with them, the main of which being a failed attempt at a brothel while the family was located in los angeles. kipper was notoriously horrible at forethought - lacking in the field altogether - so, of course, the idea had fallen through. but lennox did not lack in forethought. on the contrary, he excelled at planning, so he'd taken it upon himself to recreate his uncle's failed idea with his own personal twist. ultimately, he was a gentleman, and he wouldn't allow a brothel to tarnish the new selwyn name. that was beneath him. an escort service was far more acceptable. the girls could do whatever they were paid to do, that much he didn't care, as long as the money kept coming to his pockets. more money... more power... all of this led to the inaugural party for the irish rose escort service, his brainchild, his pet project. it was all his. the money would ultimately go to the irish mafia, but it was his. connor hadn't ordered him to do it, and would only benefit from the long-term effects. however, this didn't keep his brother from turning lennox's soiree into a wild party. even if connor was engaged, he had connections and he loved destroying anything lennox loved. lennox knew the turn of the party wouldn't tarnish the evening altogether, but it pissed him off that connor had managed to weasel his way beneath his skin yet again. leaning against a wall in the lobby of the building where the party was being held, he smoked a cigarette, not giving a shit if he was smoking inside. he was a selwyn; they did what they wanted in this town. his fingers ran down the inside of the lapel of his light gray suit, the pads of his fingers feeling the slight bumps of the thread along the hem. his mind inherently picked up the tiniest detail, such as the ticking of the clock on the empty receptionist's desk, a clock which sounded a half a second too fast by the overactive ticking of its hands. he knew the hem on the left leg of his pants was a quarter of an inch higher than the right simply by the way it brushed the tops of his shoe, and he could still smell the scent of the too-strong perfume the receptionist had been wearing that day. seeing more vehicles pulling up outside and the plethora of photographers leaping at the opportunity to take pictures, lennox rolled his eyes and snubbed his cigarette before turning toward the elevator. punching the up arrow that would summon the elevator to take him back up to the party, he waited patiently until it pinged open in front of him. the respite from the cacophony of camera shutters snapping was a relief as he stepped through the doors and hit the number for the appropriate floor. just as the doors began to close, a female voice called out for him to hold the door, and his hand instinctively snaked out to catch it. the instant her foot hit the space between the doors, lennox's eyes were drawn to her shoe. it was a louboutin shoe, an expensive shoe. how he knew this was beyond him. next, as a man was wont to do, his eyes traveled up her shin to her knee to the fully revealed creamy skin of her leg. lennox was quite possibly the only male selwyn not fully ruled by his dick, but he couldn't resist drinking in the sight of the female's perfectly sculpted frame. as she slipped into the elevator, his eyes expertly flitted away from her, and he smiled in amusement as she flipped off the cameramen outside. his eyes observed her face, and he instantly recognized her. he would never forget a face, even if he'd only seen it once. "the daughter of jackson ramone, what a unexpected surprise," he noted, his irish accent lilting and calm as he crossed his hands over his waist and looked at her with his brown eyes. "to what do i own the pleasure?" [style=letter-spacing: 2px; border-bottom: 2px solid; padding: 2px] YEAH I DON'T COUNT WORDS CUZ I'M LAZY | LENNEDY | COMPLETE this sucks. i'm not even in denial. [/style]

table made by MADAME MARIANNA of CAUTION 2.0

[KENNEDY LINDA RAMONE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 366x; height: 190px; padding: 10px; background-color: #dcd4c7; border: #eae4d8 10px solid;] SAVE TIME IN A BOTTLE A satisfied smirk twisted across Kennedy's cherry lips, the violent red striking against her ghostly pale features. For some reason it pleased her that if she had to get her picture taken when she wasn't either expecting or wanting it, that she was going to do it her own way. Similar to Marilyn Manson roaming around Los Angeles with the words FUCK YOU plastered across his forehead simply so that his pictures couldn't be shown in tabloids without his face being blurred. At least that small moment of rebellion made her feel at least a bit like this night wasn't going to be a complete train wreck. In the past Kennedy had never exactly been the pristine and well behaved woman that her father not only wanted her to be but practically begged her to be, not that the whole heiress of the rails thing was any kind of unique. Still, Kennedy had a knack for getting herself into trouble, and usually she was the kind of person who actually went out looking for trouble to satisfy her insatiable appetite for excitement. Or, maybe, not even trouble, but something different. Now in the security of the elevator's interior, the female was given an opportunity to actually take in her surroundings and get her bearings before seeking out this Connor figure that her father demanded that she seek. Again she heard the vibration of her cell phone from somewhere in the confines of her sleek black clutch though her irritation for her father kept her from even bothering to check the message. The smooth tones of the Irish accent somewhere to the side of her broke her attention away from her debate of checking her phone, her steely blue eyes flickering to the male who had spoken, her eyebrows raising in slight interest. Though of course she had expected upon leaving for the event that she was going to run into the Irish, the sound of his natural dialect practically causing goosebumps to form along her skin. Even more surprising, he knew exactly who she was, and of course she had not one single idea who he could possibly be. Running the tip of her tongue across her glossy bottom lip, she took a step backward to be standing equal with him though several feet away. Honestly, she didn't know the answer to his question as simple as it might have been. For a moment or so her mind scanned through all of the possible coy answers like she was searching through a web page until finally she stated simply, "Curiosity." With a devious smile she extended her hand towards him, her long pale fingers ending in ebony painted nails filed to delicate yet dangerous points. "Mr. Selwyn, I assume? Shouldn't you be enjoying the fruits of your labor and not lurking around in the lobby smoking cigarettes under the NO SMOKING sign? Though, I do admire your disobedience." With a quick snicker, her eyes scanned slowly over the male, her bottom lip catching between her teeth briefly as she stifled a smirk. Undoubtedly, this had to be Connor. His perfectly tailored suit and thick accent meant that more than likely, he was important, not that it was uncommon at these kind of events to see someone so perfectly put together. Still, this had to have been Connor, and how fortunate had she been to end up in an elevator with him? Clearly her father should have been more forthcoming with information upon sending his daughter to the party to play nice with the Irish, like perhaps a description of who she was looking for or maybe even that there was more than one Selwyn, maybe even photographs of each of them. Sending her in blind hadn't exactly been his best decision, and Kennedy was completely oblivious to the fact that the male standing beside her in the elevator was, in fact, Lennox and not the Connor who he was so determined for her to suck up to. Continuing on her theory that she had found the target for the evening, she chose to lay it on thick, her Ramone charm kicking up a notch as she took a step or two closer to him though leaving a reasonable distance between the two of them. "So tell me...what's there to do at a Selwyn bash for a girl who really doesn't need the money?" WORDS: NOT AS MANY . TAGGED: LENNOX .

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[LENNOX RAFFERTY SELWYN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px] I REMEMBER WHEN WE WERE DRIVING we gotta make a decision: leave tonight or live and die this way? [/style][style=background-color: 1b1b1b; width: 200px; height: 300px; float: right; border: 0px solid #0e0e0e; padding: 8px; color: 454545; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; line-height: 95%;]lennox smirked amusedly as kennedy glanced over at him, noticing him for the first time. he collected information about people just as surely as he collected the people themselves, and he knew her name and who she was related to. her father's shady connections with his family also gave him a bit more insight, and his first impression of her was one of mischief and ill-expressed motives. he didn't trust people easily for he read them far better than his siblings, and the instant her blue eyes flickered over him, his own gaze steeled against her. it wasn't an obvious reaction to anyone who didn't know him, but rather, it was as if a mental wall had gone up behind his eyes, revealing nothing. his secrets didn't show in his eyes, and he was perfectly at ease in the young lady's company. her answer to his question intrigued him, however, and her extended hand was gathered in his warm fingers. "i am," he answered. bringing her hand up to his lips, he cleverly twisted her wrist with a gentle motion, kissing the back of her hand before releasing her. he smiled his genuine, roguish smile at her comments before slipping his hands calmly into his pockets. "i wouldn't consider it lurking, perse," he commented off-handedly, shrugging his shoulders, "if your actions find a purpose, it doesn't matter the original intent, aye?" he smiled at her, his eyes - a delightfully pleasant shade of dark hazel, almost brown in certain light but green like his older brother's as he looked at her - twinkling with his amusement. the conversation remained light and surface-level, and as she smirked, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, he almost sucked in a breath of air. it was absurd really. she had a lush, full mouth. he shouldn't be so affected by it. it wasn't as if he'd never seen a woman before. he may not be a womanizer as his brother had been, but he'd been around. still, he had been doing a man's work for far too long, and his older brother's cruel jesting kept him sufficiently alone and sexless. so seeing a woman, so obviously vibrant and sure of herself, was erotic to him by itself. he wanted to bite her lip for her, wanted to fuck her mouth with his tongue, but he carefully contained his lusts. he had clearly been deprived for too long. she was kennedy ramone. she was boston's very own socialite princess, a celebutante. her notoriety didn't impress him, but her powerful personality appealed to him. her defiance against a man who obviously held her back was something lennox admired. he had plenty of experience in that area in his own life, first with his father and now with connor. her voice pulled him out of his daydreams, and he glanced over at her out of the side of his eyes as the elevator tugged them upward into the skyscraper. her words appealed to that baser part of his mind that had reared its head at the sight of her biting her lip, but he merely smiled at her. "there are selwyns here," he commented nonchalantly, eyeing her with amusement behind his gaze. "what more could a girl ask for?" [style=letter-spacing: 2px; border-bottom: 2px solid; padding: 2px] IDEK # | LENNEDY | COMPLETE this sucks. i'm not even in denial. [/style]

table made by MADAME MARIANNA of CAUTION 2.0

[KENNEDY LINDA RAMONE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 366x; height: 190px; padding: 10px; background-color: #dcd4c7; border: #eae4d8 10px solid;] SAVE TIME IN A BOTTLE The female drew in a sharp inhale through her nose as she felt his lips against the back of her hand, nearly feeling as if a bolt of electricity had been sent through the skin and seeped through her entire body. When his hand withdrew and disappeared into his pocket she was almost tempted to reach in and retrieve it, disappointed by the sudden lack of warmth against her skin. For a second or so she shifted where she stood, her grip tightening on her clutch as she finally allowed her breath to release. "Mm. Pleasure to meet you. Jacks- ...my father speaks very highly of your family." This probably hadn't been what her father had in mind when he decided to send his daughter into the shark tank essentially covered in blood, but right now she wasn't even thinking about that. His words confirmed her thoughts that this was for certain who she was looking for, though any of her common sense or abilities to form a coherent sentence seemed to be lost when she swooned over the sound of his voice. It wasn't usual that a passing male left her with such a longing building up inside of her gut, or usual that she would gaze at the way that his lips moved when he spoke or the deviousness in his eyes. Dangerous. Of course she was being drawn in like an incredibly stupid moth to the flame. She ran her nails through her lengthy nearly white hair as she brought it all to one side of her neck, hanging down over her shoulder as she glanced at the buttons that lit the higher that the elevator went into the sky. Elevators had always made her uncomfortable ever since she was a child, probably due to that Disney movie with the ghosts in the Hollywood Hotel. Right now he was making her feel a similar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach like she had felt when her mother had forced her to face her fears and ride the ride at Disney, though right now it was far more exciting and intriguing. "Some alcohol perhaps?" Kennedy offered in response to his statement about the Selwyns, careful to leave out the small detail that she actually wasn't even old enough to drink yet, though her birthday was approaching dangerously close. Irony at it's finest, the leggy female with absolutely no affinity towards love being born on Valentine's Day, to parents who later had an extremely messy divorce. Had she been a male, her mother was planning to name her Valentino after the designer and as homage to the day upon which she was born. However, her father had decided instead upon Kennedy, which was fine by her since she didn't feel as if Valentine or Valentina fit her all too well. Even with her flirty nature, Kennedy had always been an ice queen of sorts, with all of the smiles and the eyelash batting with no actual connections or even interest in those she sank her literal claws into. Something about this male, however, had her attention entirely, her piercing eyes locked in on as own as she tried to determine what color they were. His polite smile was returned back to him though in her mind there was something much more surreal happening, her shoulders knocking into the mirror elevator walls and her leg wrapping up around his waist to feel their bodies rub against each other. The display occurring inside of her head never reached her face, her demeanor remaining as light and flirty rather than something off of the pages of a dirty romance novel or in one of those films you watched when no one else was around. In a way she was almost dying for those doors to open so that she could catch a breath of fresh air and rid herself of the thoughts that were now plaguing her. Even the tips of her fingers seemed to be itching to run across the flesh of his cheek and she had only been near him for a grand total of about one minute now. Again the thoughts of that Disney ride reeled through her mind, the feeling of the simulated elevator plummeting downward and making her feel as if she had absolutely no control. No sooner had the uncomfortable thought crossed her mind, that she looked curiously up towards the ceiling of the metal death trap to see the lights flicker, the fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach being replaced with slight dread. "Did you just...?" She began to ask, before she felt the floor shift beneath her feet and she stumbled slightly, her hands immediately flinging out to grip onto the bar that ran along the walls to steady herself as her clutch toppled to the floor. Her eyes squeezed shut as she braced herself for the worst, expecting that dropping feeling to return only this time, not for a couple of screams, but to tumble down the chute towards the ground with absolutely no chance of stopping, no chance of those doors opening and leading her to a gift shop that sold t-shirts reading I SURVIVED THE TOWER OF TERROR, MGM STUDIOS. Breathing heavily, her grip white knuckled on the icy bar until she came to realize that nothing was happening. Reluctantly, she allowed her eyes to open once more, only to find that there was nothing but darkness as there had been a moment ago when she was practically accepting her fate. "What just happened?" Kennedy asked, her hands reaching out in front of her as she felt along the walls for the panel of buttons, pressing her fingers against the plastic circles only to find that none of them lit. This had to be some kind of a nightmare, giving her a moment with a beautiful man only for her to be dangling above nothing in a skyscraper and waiting for her doom. "Selwyn, are you okay?" The female asked, half expecting him to have disappeared like some form of a horror film. WORDS: NOT AS MANY . TAGGED: LENNOX .

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[LENNOX RAFFERTY SELWYN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px] I REMEMBER WHEN WE WERE DRIVING we gotta make a decision: leave tonight or live and die this way? [/style][style=background-color: 1b1b1b; width: 200px; height: 300px; float: right; border: 0px solid #0e0e0e; padding: 8px; color: 454545; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; line-height: 95%;]he believed he had a control over himself as he released her hand and smiled at her, but when she absently brushed her hair from her neck, he was instantly distracted. this was silly. he wasn't this style. he wasn't this easily torn from his attention, and he didn't have the attention span of a gerbil. on the contrary, he was a very focused man, and he was constantly engrossed in his current goal. his distraction by the blond beside him was foreign to him. he didn't consider himself a sexual animal in the same sense that connor was. connor's dick ruled his life, and had for years. it had gotten him into a lot of trouble throughout their lives, but lennox wasn't like that. he was much more like their father: focused and goal-oriented. he saw life as a business, something he had to work and manipulate. it was not a game. so he often found himself sleeping alone at night simply because the rest of it didn't matter to him. connor used women as objects, fucking them to keep his mind off of his problems, but lennox saw them as a needless distraction. he would rather sort through his problems than hide them between the legs of a woman he would never see again. but he was still a man. beneath the seemingly cool, pensive exterior, he was very much a man. and the close proximity to the leggy blond beside him now was evidence enough that he was, in fact, nowhere near being gay as his older brother loved to accuse him. her question distracted him from his wandering thoughts, and he glanced over at her out of the corners of his eyes as a small smirk spread over his handsome face. "of course there's alcohol. it's an irish party after all, lass," he pointed out, his smirk spreading into an amused grin. the selwyns were unabashedly in love with their alcohol, especially connor, and the oldest selwyn didn't consider it a proper gathering until he had at least two drinks. his tolerance level was so high, it was embarrassing, and lennox was often forced to remain the designated driver. they couldn't be more different. he purposely ignored her shifting beside him, attempting to block out the desire to watch her endless legs balancing her, denying himself the raw, lusty thoughts that came to him. it had really been too long since he'd fucked. he was like a nun thanks to connor sending him out on nonstop missions to collect people. fucking connor. the lights flickered in the elevator, and his eyes looked up at the lights instantly, momentarily blinding him. he frowned as he felt the elevator lurch, and his instinct made him reach out toward kennedy just as he was plunged in to darkness. he grunted in frustration as the blindness overtook him, but his mind had already memorized the elevator, and he knew how far she was from him. this was all guaranteeing she hadn't stepped away from him already. indeed, she had changed her position, and when his fingers touched her, his hands slid around the curve of her hips before he realized what he was touching. instantly, his mind painted a picture of the positioning, and as she stood, her back came in to contact with his chest, taking the breath from him. instinctively, he released his grip on her hips, the flats of his hands against her lower back, carefully trained away from her ass. "i'm...fine," he managed, gently pushing himself back away from her until he could feel the elevator wall again. forcing his inner demons down as they danced licentiously in his head, he dug into his pockets for his cellphone. finding it, he powered it on and the light blared to life, illuminating the small space of the elevator with luminescent blue light. kennedy's face floated in the shadows of his vision as he checked the signal only to find it dead. "fuck. no signal," he complained, wishing now more than ever that he had a satellite phone. moving around her to the emergency phone within the elevator, he roughly pulled it out and lifted it to his ear just to hear it dead as well. cursing, he dropped it and it clanked against the metal wall as he ran his hands back through his hair, not caring that he would mess up the gel which smoothed his hair in to place. "it looks like we're stuck and the power is all gone. the phones don't even work." this didn't bode well, and his instincts pinged that this situation was more serious than just a dead elevator. the phones should work. his reason told him this. his mind went to his brothers and sister at the party several floors above and the numerous guests. the irish mafia had many enemies who could benefit from a blackout. in addition to that, he was separated from them, stuck in a metal box suspended in the heart of a building with no way to get to them. he cursed himself for going on the smoke break to begin with. he should be with them. he was their mind. without him, who knew what connor would do. he'd probably whip out his gun (because lennox knew better than to think connor had obeyed him and left all firearms at home). "does your phone work?" he asked her, knowing it wouldn't but hoping beyond hope they weren't trapped in here, tucked away from the world where no one would think to find them. [style=letter-spacing: 2px; border-bottom: 2px solid; padding: 2px] IDEK # | LENNEDY | COMPLETE this sucks. i'm not even in denial. [/style]

table made by MADAME MARIANNA of CAUTION 2.0

[KENNEDY LINDA RAMONE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 366x; height: 190px; padding: 10px; background-color: #dcd4c7; border: #eae4d8 10px solid;] SAVE TIME IN A BOTTLE Despite what the tabloids seemed to think of the seemingly risqué young woman with her smoldering eye make-up and deadly stilettos, for all intents and purposes Kennedy Ramone was somewhat of a prude. Of course it wasn't that the female didn't have fleeting sexual thoughts or girlish daydreams of glistening bodies and breathless enchantment, but she was excruciatingly picky when it came to two things: her shoes and her men. From the outside it would appear that she was about as shallow as a shower, and maybe that was even partially correct but the truth of the matter was that she simply just did not trust easily and it was even more difficult to earn her effections. Though she had found herself in her days at Brown lusting after unkempt rocker chic men with leather jackets adorned in pins with strips of color stained strands of hair hanging in front of their hooded eyes they weren't enough to keep her satisfied. Usually the ones who put on such a heavy facade of being so dark and badass were actually just scared little boys hiding behind their blunts and guitars to avoid reality. This male, however, didn't seem to need the greasy theatrics to show that he was at least moderately assured of himself and that alone was not only increasingly fascinating, but incredibly sexy. By now she had tasted more than her fair share of obnoxious rock n' roll boys, and by the way that her mouth was practically watering she could tell that she was more than ready for a different flavor. Being an only child, her father had always been watchful over her, though as of late she was beginning to see that it wasn't out of paternal love or effection, it was protecting his assets. In his eyes she was simply one of his belongings, his daughter, and the mound of flesh that was to take all of his nickels and dimes once he finally bit the big one and left his legacy to supposedly rot in the hands of a female. In a way she almost wanted to do it to spite him, set the casino ablaze and watch Wicked burn to the ground and be swallowed by the hell from which it came. Still as much as Kennedy hated to admit it, without the lies and the cheating and the addiction that Wicked provided to the masses, she would have essentially nothing. If you asked her, she and her father couldn't possibly be less alike, he was cold and manipulative and unkind, and Kennedy was well...Kennedy. Maybe she was a bit cold when it came to romance, but that was because she had witnessed her parent's marriage falling apart for most of her life. Often times her father was drunk and rambling on about numbers while her mother tried to romance him and sway him to bed while Kennedy just sat around with the maids and played poker for Pringles. With Kennedy, there was no gambling, she didn't play the game unless she was absolutely positive that she could win. In that way maybe she was even more similar to her father than she ever could have thought possible. After what had happened with her mother and after watching the woman be put into the ground, she couldn't help but be skeptical at each and every turn...couldn't help but wonder if things secretly had some kind of a motive behind them. Obviously Jackson had some type of a motive in sending Kennedy into this party with absolutely no information, and clearly he had a motive in sending her to find Connor. Now...that they had been pitched into complete darkness, she couldn't ignore the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that maybe this wasn't an accident, and now even further she wasn't entirely sure that she could trust this male that she was just so conveniently trapped in a little box with. Her thoughts were conflicted as she felt his hands against her waist, partially wanting to press up against him and feel his body up against her own, and partially wanting to turn the knife that was concealed within her clutch on him and demand that he stay on his own side of the elevator. She practically panted as he made his way to the elevator wall, instinctively backing into the opposite one and fumbling with the touch pad of her cell phone, another blue tinted light erupting on her side as she held it out towards him. His comment about the lack of signal on his phone left a bad taste in her mouth that only further aided her paranoid suspicion that whatever was happening in this moment wasn't an accident. Cautiously, she allowed her eyes to avert down to the screen of the device only to find out that hers too didn't have a signal. "Lovely, mine's out too." Kennedy practically grunted out, her shoulders colliding with the wall behind her as she stared at the almost creepy glow of his face. Subconsciously, she found herself crouching down slightly, her fingers searching through the darkness for her fallen clutch which contained her only real defense in the event that she should need it. Once her fingers had found the leathery material she snatched the bag quickly to her and found herself against the wall again, the snaps clicking opened between her index and thumb as she discreetly moved the small blade to one of her hands and closed it once more. "Well this isn't exactly how I planned my evening..." She began quietly, her tongue wetting her lips in the darkness as she searched the small beam of light for his form. On one hand the more girlish part of her was thrilled to be contained with the male that was currently infecting her thoughts and giving her an insatiable appetite though on the other hand she was partially tempted to drive her knife into his gut just to assure her own safety and to be damn sure that she didn't end up in a plot beside her mother with Jackson grinning over them. Maybe Jackson wasn't trying to pick her off, after all, without Kennedy there was no heir, which meant no one to carry on his precious Wicked as if she ever would anyway. Her coy words were lost somewhere between her complete terror as she practically waited for them to go sailing towards the ground, though on the opposite end of the spectrum she just wanted to be comforted. This happened all the time, didn't it? Simple power malfunctions happened, people got trapped in elevators, and this wasn't some kind of sick plot all formed in the mind of a twisted mad man. Right? "Any chance you're hiding some champagne under that jacket of yours?" WORDS: NOT AS MANY . TAGGED: LENNOX .

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