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It has been one year since seven-year old Carson Russo was murdered outside of the San Rocco Church. The Italian Mafia has vowed to take out the murderers and the entire Irish Mafia in a massacre so large, that it would leave the streets of Chicago red for months. The police can't even find the will to control the tumultuous situation any longer. No one is safe. It's all out war, and there is so much blood to be shed.
THIS IS PURE SUNSHINE.
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 KICKING .back. the champagne, Open;;
| daphne de longpre |
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collecting .the. pieces. }
Group: LOCAL - ADMIN.
Posts: 8
Member No.: 67
Joined: 25-February 08
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Friday night. Lights flickering and streets damp with slush. Daphne De Longpre was used to these nights. Snuggling against her tan pea coat, Daphne hunched her shoulders up to shield from the wind as she locked the shop door. She always closed on Fridays. Sometimes it shocked her as to why her father even allowed her to do such a thing. Papa…you confuse me at times… Shaking her head, the petite blonde clicked the lock and turned heel onto the damp streets that glistened with a light yellow hue as the street lamps were lit. A quiet, chilling night inside Chicago, well, not for long; the lights were just illuminated at five. Daphne was sure the night life would erupt onto the asphalt. Stuffing her cold, slim gloved hands into her pockets, the French girl took a few steps onto the road, crossing it. What to do tonight? Tilting her head, letting her untied locks fall over her shoulder, casting a cover on top of her wool scarf, she felt a crumpled piece of paper in her left pocket. What is this? Quirking a brow out of curiosity, she pulled out the wrinkle paper and unraveled it as she headed to a street lamp.
Hey Daph,
I’m heading over to the Elite Club tonight at around eight. Come by. There’s a new band playing and they’re definitely worth a listen. Just come in and find me and the others around. Oh, don’t wear that stupid coat and work clothes. Have fun for once.
-Jared
Daphne twittered as she stuffed the note back into her pocket. ”It’s not a stupid coat…” she pouted as her blue eyes cast a glance on her now orange-brown coat. The lighting always did that to people. It was awfully annoying and inconvenient when someone was trying to look one’s best. She shrugged her meek shoulders and headed back toward her home to get a bit more gussied up. Why should I care what Jared thinks? He’s just my brother… It was curious that Daphne would take her brother’s opinion so seriously, but Jared was the partier. He knew exactly how the scene was and Daphne found that to be convenient. The only bad part was that Jared never let Daphne ever go near any boys. Well, he’d steer the boys from her. The blonde never approached many people on her own, unless her brothers were around, especially when Rodney was with her. Rodney is the youngest in the De Longpre family and he always pushed Daphne to do things out of her norm.
”I’m home!” her voice echoed in the darkness. No one was home. Papa must be over at the- Before she could even finish her though, Daphne was pushed down by her dear puppy, Sherlock. He was this little corgi that was all poofed up from the cold. She loved him. Giggling as she picked up her dear pup, Daphne headed for her room to change…
She left her house clad in a black dress with matching shoes and her black pea coat, not the tan one. ”He can’t say anything now…” she snickered, flipping the collar up to save her neck from the cold as she headed back down State St to meet up with her brother and the gang. I wonder who will be there… She hoped her best friend, a police officer, would be there, so she could talk to him about any new crime scenes and whatnot. Her father had confiscated her radio for the week because Daphne nearly slitting her ankle on broken glass. Shaking her head at her own stupidity of slipping on black ice, the girl heard more voices around the street as the moon was rising to its fullest. It was nearing eight and she was almost there.
The hustle and bustle of the crowd nearly knocked the poor girl off her feet. She was only five foot three, so the petite blonde could only do so much in a crowd. Ugh… Her small body was spun around as people kept colliding with her ever so subtly. Her head felt a bit dizzy, but she made it to the club. Upon entering, the Jazz music wailed and Daphne’s head bopped slightly to the beat as her blue hues scanned for matching eyes and hair. Where is he? Moving onto her tip toes, Daphne kept allowing her eyes to roam, but someone had obscured her vision, nearly knocking her over. Watch it, Buddy!” she growled, rolling her eyes. Someone wasn’t making this easy for her.
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night at the ritz skinned by Lea (iloveyou.) of redcarpet&rebellion and skin_it.
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