NOWHERE TO GO (NEIL)

[fiona]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]WEARING THIS FOR NEIL yep so it probably sucks, but hopefully it's an okay starting point. xD hope you didn't look forward to this for two hours just for it to suck lmao i'm excited about them though! DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]tucking a piece of her red hair behind her ear, willow stepped off of the boat that had carried her out to the islands in boston harbor. there were other people surrounding her, and they all milled off to their various destinations, leaving her alone on the dock peering in across the small area of land. she wasn't typically the type of person to be alone, but she hadn't met many people here since being shipped here by her father (except one girl who'd been really nice at the library and had since become her acquaintance). in essence, she was lonely, but she wasn't going to mope around the apartment her father had gotten for her. instead, she preferred to explore the city, get to know it. she preferred art over history, but the islands in the harbor with their historical fort appealed to her. plus, she'd heard there were some good places to eat out here, and eating was a hobby of hers. she loved sampling food from different countries, and american food was so entertaining to her for some odd reason. making her way through the crowds, she headed for the fort, opting to take one of the many tours that ran through the place all day long. she absorbed the information fed to her like a sponge and probably retained more of it than any one else on the tour with her by the time it was all said and done. an hour and a half had passed since she'd stepped foot on the island now, and as clouds began rolling in from the ocean, she made her way to sullivan's, a local dive near to the fort. it was known throughout the city for having wonderful food, and she'd been itching to try it since it had been recommended to her. rain began to fall, and she rushed under the overhang of the restaurant just as it began to really pour. shaking herself like a puppy, she giggled at the mental image and rang out her now-curly hair. any primping she may have done before coming out here was now useless thanks to the humidity, but she didn't care. she had no one to impress. ordering a cheap, greasy hamburger (classic american cuisine and one of her personal favorites) and some fries, she moved off to the side of the awning to watch the rain pouring. there were couples rushing through the water, splashing up puddles as they leapt together through the downpour. there were kids and their parents rushing to get dry. there were dogs on their leashes, tugging their owners along in their attempt to find shelter. it was thoroughly entertaining as she stood eating her burger and fries. when she finished the food, she started in on her soda and sighed contentedly to herself. suddenly, a figure slammed into her from behind, shoving her forward into the torrential rain and causing her to drop her drink in surprise. the styrofoam burst open, spilling the contents of her drink in the mud and muck and her clothes were almost instantly soaked through from the amount of rain coming down. sputtering from the water and the shock of the encounter, she scrambled back into the dryness underneath the roof and wiped the rain from her eyes, holding her arms out at her sides as water dripped relentlessly from her. she looked like a drowned cat, and she was irritated by the intrusion on her introspective time. as soon as she was underneath the shelter, she instantly saw the young man who'd collided with her and sent her into the rain. "don't apologize or anything," she snapped irritably, beginning to wring out her clothes, "it's not like i was standing here." she smiled a grating smile and then went back to pretending as if he'd never existed as she attempted to dry herself. [/style]

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

[neil patrick torres]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 757 ( TAGGED ) WILLOW MCLOUGHLIN ( STATUS ) COMPLETE ”So sorry sir,” Neil said, patting the gentleman on the back. The grey haired man grunted in response before pushing him to the side and making his way off the boat. Once the man was far enough away, Neil Torres grinned to himself and opened up his hand. In it was a black wallet, made by most likely Michael Korhs or someone of importance. People in Boston were so naive to think that leaving their wallets in their front or back pocket was a good idea. Not everyone in the world was nice, and that was something Neil had learned the hard way. His eyes glanced quickly around and once he reassure himself that he was not being watched by any of the people around, he opened the wallet. A couple of twenties were tucked away, as well as a couple of gift cards and a debit card. He sighed. No one ever felt the need to carry around cash anymore, and while Neil was considered a criminal by most of the Boston PD, he didn’t do much bad…sure, he stole that famous painting once and a couple of jewels. Connor Sewlyn got away with murdering people in cold blood, yet he never got in trouble. He took the bills out and a few of the cards that looked as though they may come in use before tossing the wallet over the edge of the Boston Harbor, including the debit card. He couldn’t just steal the man’s money; sure, he seemed like an asshole, but it wasn’t up to him to punish his bank account and the family he had. The two hundred dollars in twenties would suffice. He found a secluded spot in the boat and it launched, making its way to the dozens of islands that seemed to be out of reach. His eyes drifted shut and he allowed his mind to relax. Boston was better than the last place he had been, that was for sure. At least here, Connor had enough people to boss around and it allowed Neil to have a life. Not only was he helping his father open up yet another publishing office in Boston, he was also watching his sister closely as she began her college career at Berkley. Obviously Lily had gotten the smarts of the family, and he had simply gotten the bad luck of being forced to cover for Anne…but that was another story for another time. His eyes opened quickly moments before the boat came to a stop and he stood up, pushing his way past the group of tourists that were keen on listening to whatever the guide was talking about. Obviously they didn’t realize the public library had more information than this teenage loser. Hell, he knew more about the history of the Boston Harbor than the loser did. As soon as Neil found a small local diner, the rain began to pour. He grinned. Rainstorms were one of his favorite things in the world. When he was younger, and even now in secret, he enjoyed dancing under the cold drops and chuckling to himself. Most of the time, he was the cold hearted crook that spent more time trying to protect his sister than letting her live her life. Any moment he could take for being a twenty something year old he would take. Sometimes, he just wanted to laugh like he was supposed to. He was tossed out of thoughts as he saw a chubby little kid speeding his way, obviously not planning on stopping any time soon. A mother yelled and before Neil knew it, he was being shoved into a girl in front of him and into the rain itself. Drops began to stain his white shirt and he shook his head, raindrops flying everywhere. The cold drops felt good on his skin and he relished the feeling for a moment before he heard a snarky remark coming from the corner. His eyes fell on a red head and he sighed. She was cute, but her tongue needed to be taught a lesson. As Neil began to open his mouth to apologize, her words hit him like a brick. ”Sorry I wasn’t aware that the princess needed to be acknowledge before I could get out of the damn rain,” he retorted, his Irish accent thick before stepping underneath the overhang. ”And it’s not my fault a snotty kid ran into me and pushed us both into the rain. It wasn’t on my things to do to get wet today. any and all notes can go here

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[fiona]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]WEARING THIS FOR NEIL muwhahaaa i'm loving the banter so far DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]not that she'd been dressed up in the first place, but the way she looked now was downright homely. her hair was curling (as it was wont to do naturally) which she feared made her look like a twelve-year-old, and her clothes were dripping with moisture. as she rang out her sleeves, she knew she would have to find a better place to dry herself. considering this place didn't look like it had many options in that department, she looked around for a bathroom. maybe there was a hand dryer or something she could use to dry off with, at least a little bit so she wasn't looking like a drowned rat. fully willing to ignore the young man who had practically bodyslammed her, she moved to push past him when his irish brogue brought her up short. she recognized an irish accent anywhere, and it brought her heart up into her throat. growing up in ireland and in the midst of the ira, she was well-acquainted with pretty muchly every member of the irish republican army. she knew their voices, their faces, even their families. as his voice sunk in, and the realization it brought with it, she remembered that the selwyn family (however dysfunctional and weak they may currently be now that her father had put a hand in their downfall) had relocated to boston. it was no small coincidence that this young man was irish in a town so relatively small for such a big war between the selwyns and the ira. knowing he wasn't in the ira, that could only mean one thing: selwyn. her green eyes hardened as she looked at him, the hatred she had for that family welling up in her gaze. "i'm sure it wasn't," she replied sardonically in a low tone, her voice on the edge of its deepest pitch. not able to stand being near him now that she realized who he was associated with, she tried to go around him to find the bathroom but found herself trapped. the crowd had thickened beneath the awning, fighting to stay out of the rain, and her only way around was through the downpour. cursing inwardly, she closed her eyes to try to control herself. she could handle this. she would go to that little place in her mind that always kept her calm in the worst situations, and she would handle this. when her eyes opened, his irritating face was still there, all blue eyes and dirty blond hair, and it was everything she could do to resist spitting on him. she didn't want to bring attention to the tensions brewing among the irish underground, especially in public. "selwyn madra..." she hissed, calling him the irish word for dog as she pushed rudely past him to find the bathroom. since willow was a little girl, her father had bred her to hate the selwyn family and their close allies: namely the byrnes. she had done so, and relentlessly, honoring her father's wishes. she'd been his little girl since the day she was born, and that wasn't about to change any time soon. if only this irishman knew how ironic it was that he had called her 'princess'. he'd meant it in a derogatory way, but he'd hit close to the truth. when her family fell apart when she was just a kid, will had become her father's only remaining loved one. he'd put her on a pedestal - almost began worshiping her - and (over)protected her like a panther guarding a lamb ready for his own personal slaughter. if she'd been able to see past her father's lies and twisted personality, she would have seen how truly dark their relationship was, but she couldn't. all she could see was the father who protected her, guided her, and taught her everything she knew. she couldn't see the twisted murderer and rapist that he really was. because she didn't see his deceit, she thought of him (and the ira) as the 'good' guys and the selwyn family and their mob as the 'bad' guys. she was, admittedly, biased and ignorant, but she didn't care. she didn't need to hang around this vagrant to find out differently. around the back of the building, after getting herself wetter by skimming the crowd in her search, she finally found the bathroom: one room for both sexes to use. shrugging her shoulders, she entered, forgetting to lock the door as she saw her saving hand dryer on the wall. "ah, come to mama," she remarked jokingly to herself as she pulled off her striped shirt and held it beneath the dryer. the warmth felt good and helped her to begin to forget her close encounter with the enemy. [/style]

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

[neil patrick torres]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 898 ( TAGGED ) WILLOW MCLOUGHLIN ( STATUS ) COMPLETE She knew who he was. Well, he realized as their eyes met for a brief moment, not his name but whom he was associated to. His stomach rolled and he realized just how evil Connor Sewlyn was. He was a disturbed man who took joy in corrupting the world around him and forcing people to do his bidding. This redhead knew that not many Irish men wandered the streets of Boston in hopes of relocating. No, she knew people in the IRA and therefore knew that anyone she didn’t know was probably part of the mafia. Oh, if only it was farther from the truth. Granted, he stole for the mafia, but it seemed as though the IRA thought that every man and woman in the group wanted to be there and had no need to escape the death traps that seemed to be awaiting them around every turn. His fingers ran through his brown hair, and he realized had he stuck with an American accent like he usually did, there would have never been a problem. She most likely would have flirted before going home and telling all her girlfriends about the older boy who flirted with her. Now, she was making a trap for him to fall into and he was sinking quickly. If this girl screamed, well, he would simply disappear into the shadows that followed him everywhere. Neil’s eyes dragged over her petite body for a brief second, realizing that this girl was important. She wasn’t just any girl, she was someone that would be missed if Connor knew about her and decided to act on impulse. Her last two words echoed through his ear before she disappeared, pushing her way into the crowd and towards the bathroom. He bit his tongue hard and closed his eyes. It was weird, hearing an insult in his native tongue. It was something he wasn’t used to hearing when not around Connor. But that girl was naïve if she thought he was the bad guy. If anything, he was the guy trying get away from everything that was around him. That leader of the IRA, or whatever that bastard was called, was not someone he wanted to side with. He was a rapist and a killer, just like Connor, only he had different reasons as to why he wanted to control the world. He wanted control, and Connor wanted amusement. If it wasn’t for the fact that both groups hated each other Neil could imagine that the two would get along. No, instead, he was forced to hide from the IRA using Connor but still living in fear that Connor would find his home and kill his sister and then go and kill his family. He would never be able to live with himself if that happened. The fact that the ginger simply passed judgment on him brought anger into his chest and he opened his eyes, a harsh glaze covering the blue. If she wanted to call him a dog and assume the worse, well, he would simply explain himself. Using his skills, Neil blended into the crowd by picking up a discarded fedora. He walked a slow pace, covered by the tall couple in front of him and saw her enter a bathroom. It was unisexed, so it looked simply as though he needed to use the loo and nothing more. Leaning against the wall next to the door, he listened to hear a click, the sound of a door locking, but it never came. For all of her apparent knowledge on him, she thought it was safe to keep her doors unlocked. Too bad daddy wasn’t around with a big bad gun. Seconds later, he heard the sound of a dryer on the wall. Without a second thought, he opened the door and shut it in a matter of seconds, locking it quickly behind him. Immediately, he emptied his pockets onto the counter, revealing that he had no weapons on him. It sounded as though she was saying something insulting, but he didn’t listen. Instead, he emptied out the two hundred dollars he had stolen earlier, a pack of gum and his disposable cell phone. ”I got no weapons to use against you, princess,” he said quietly. He wasn’t a killer, never had and would never become. But he sensed nervousness and he sighed. ”Your ignorance of that bastard Sewlyn is the only reason I’m here. You think I like being the scapegoat for the bastard? No. Maybe instead of listening to the killer you call the leader of the IRA, realize that Sewlyn blackmails ninety percent of the people that work for him. I got a ma and a da at home in Ireland that left me with their mess and Sewlyn. I got a sister I need to take care of and pray to god that Sewlyn doesn’t kill her,” he took a breath ”So don’t for once parade around here and think some of us choose this life. I’d rather be somewhere else.” Neil tossed the fedora on the counter next to the money, his eyes never leaving her face. He hadn’t even realized, until that moment, that her shirt wasn’t on. But he refused to glance at her smooth skin, instead begging her to understand. ”You don’t have to like me, but you have no reason to hate me either.” any and all notes can go here

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[fiona]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]WEARING THIS FOR NEIL HE'S GETTING TO HERRRR and she hates it hahahaha DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]the warmth coming from the hand dryer was so soothing that she allowed her forearms to run underneath it to dry and warm them. she was so caught up in drying herself, and the whirring sound of the dryer, that she never heard him enter behind her. she even hummed a bit to herself as she did unconsciously whenever she was upset. spinning her shirt around in her hands, she shifted her weight and that was when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. she leapt a few inches in the air as she spun and screamed in surprise. clutching her shirt to her chest, she tried to calm her racing heart as the dryer died and she realized he was emptying his pockets on the sink. when he was done, he softly said he had no weapons to use against her. and indeed, he was right. on the sink lay a myriad of items - money, change, a lock picking set, and other things she didn't recognize - but nothing she considered a deadly weapon. she hadn't automatically assumed he was out to kill her, but she still didn't like him because of his associations. she knew he had to be in the mafia because that was the only thing that explained him being here along with the fact that she didn't already know him. rolling her eyes and planting her hands on her hips, her shirt still in one hand as she'd forgotten it in the irritation of the moment, she glared at him across the tiny bathroom. "so you're not going to kill me. good for you. now run back to your master and leave me alone," she snapped. her red hair, now curly, dripped onto her shoulders and it brought her back to the present and the fact that she was still shirtless. she would have been impressed that he hadn't openly checked her out if she didn't hate him simply because he was working with connor selwyn and that family. her father referred to them as irish trash, and he considered everyone associated with them to be the same. his prejudices were blindly bred into her and she'd never felt the need to prove them wrong on her own. as he began griping about being commandeered to work for the selwyns, she couldn't hear anything past his comment about her father being a murderous bastard. anger welled up in her instantly, and she advanced on him, hitting him in the chest. she knew it didn't hurt him, but she didn't care. her green eyes burned with hatred and pride as she glared up at him. "don't you dare talk about my father like that again," she hissed irritably. she may be small, but she had fire in her spirit. a tiny part of her, deep down, so far beneath the surface that she wasn't consciously aware of it, knew that he was right. when she was a child, she'd seen him beat her mother and her sister, and she'd heard him raping her sister when she'd disobeyed him. but she'd so deeply repressed those memories that the conscious part of her merely felt a mild twinge of something she couldn't define and she shrugged it off. it only made her angrier at this young man who'd been bold enough to follow her into the bathroom. she slipped her shirt on over her smooth, porcelain skin as he finished his speech. she was still burning from his remarks about her father, and she didn't feel like giving in to him now. sure, he was attractive and his accent had that pull on her, appealing to her like the lush, green countryside or her memories of her mother cooking her and her siblings breakfast when they were kids, but she wouldn't allow those shallow things to do her in. "everyone has a choice," she remarked quietly. "ultimately, it's your choice to follow him whether you use your family as an excuse or not." drawing herself up, she moved toward the door and realized it was locked, and he was blocking it. clenching her fists in irritation, she closed her eyes to calm herself before she glared at him again. "why do you even care what i think anyway? they selwyns - and all of their 'employees' - hate my family for killing the byrnes," she commented hotly. she didn't want him to show his sympathetic side; she didn't want him to prove he was a nice guy in a bad situation. she wanted to hate him. it was simple that way and she didn't have to question any of her memories growing up. [/style]

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

[neil patrick torres]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) i don't want to know ( TAGGED ) WILLOW MCLOUGHLIN ( STATUS ) COMPLETE He rolled his eyes, his feelings with her done. She was a useless ginger who didn’t seem to understand anything about anyone and was too busy being the center of attention. For once, he wanted someone to understand what he went thought and his need to get out. There were so many people that never seemed to understand; his father, stepmother, Lily, Connor. He rubbed his eyes before turning and facing away from her, his eyes settling on the door hinge. He was stupid for pretending that someone would care about his miserable and pathetic life. It wasn’t that she had to understood, he just wanted someone to hug him and tell him everything would be alright. Neil loved Annie. She was a spectacular mother who wanted to help the world with everything she did, which was most likely because she screwed up the lives of her children. She had made the deal with the Sewlyns, and once you’re in you never get out. Annie had made a deal, something about getting money when she was running low, and he was paying the price. He had been bred to be a crook, one to take wallets out of people’s pockets and to plan escapades to steal worthless paintings or to get into tough places. He may not hear from Connor for months, but one day, Connor would just call and demand something from him. It made it impossible to have a normal life and to be normal. His sister was living as normal of a life as he could provide; she was smart and in college while he barely had a high school degree and stole shit for a living. It wasn’t normal, and he always wanted to go back and change time. His temper was rising. ”I don’t give a shit about what you think. I just hate being judge for something I can’t control. And I’m glad those two Byrnes were killed; they were assholes and killed…” his voice trailed off remembering Regan and her smile. The Byrnes killed Regan, with Connor watching, after she leaked information. Neil had been forced to watch the video over and over, to remind him that he was to keep in line and this could happen to anyone he cared and loved. ”But your right, you have no reason to care. You just go back to your comfy life.” he muttered, before grabbing everything off the counter and making his way out of the bathroom. The rain had stopped, and he made his way slowly towards a damp bench. Once he was seated, he rested his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. By god, he hated people. any and all notes can go here

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5