Appearance: She looks much older than she is and keeps a much lower profile than the rest of her family. She dresses very plainly and her face is very stern for someone her age. However, her eyes are very expressive and she though she carries herself very stiffly, they reveal many of her emotions.
Spoiler
Personality: She is soft-spoken and reserved and stays out of the way of her family. She is much less dramatic than the rest of them and tries her hardest to maintain the strong work ethic that had created the family's name. She does not care much for material wealth and prefers a good book or a walk around town. She is very adventurous and, while her family manages her other siblings and their personal affairs, she enjoys slipping out under cover and spending time in the city. She is very street smart and easy to get a long with and though she's not rebellious, she does go against the mold of her family in that she prefers a more free lifestyle as opposed to one governed by a social caste.
Background: Though constantly overshadowed by her elder sisters, instead of competing for attention, she long ago decided to walk her own path. She enjoys the company of the help much more than any of the arrogant and affluent visitors. She generally has little to do with her family as they are often consumed in their own problems and thus she has become somewhat distant. Her tutor and she would often go on excursions into the city and since then, she has begun going herself. However, like Isabel, she has noticed the way people regard her due to her family's wealth. She has created an entire alter-ego that she uses on the street and has protected that identity dearly. She has dreams of becoming a nurse given the stories she heard of World War One.
Other: She loves playing chess and will initiate pick up games with random people on street corners. She makes pocket change by reading and delivering letters to people. Her favorite author is Lewis Carrol and she daydreams of being Alice and wishes she could escape into Wonderland. She even has a dog who she named Dinah who she is never seen without.
Spoiler
“One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes” ~ The Little Prince~
Bwha ha ha ha. Disk is married to me Your wife sucks by the way, see below:
Full Name: Mrs. Desdemona Adams Age: 38
Appearance: Desdemona or Mona to her friends (haha what friends?) is a petite woman with a slim, attractive figure, pale blue eyes and midnight hair. It's hard to believe she ever gave birth to three children and she might have had more than a little work done, though she will of course swear that she's never touched botox and doesn't even know what it is.
Personality: Mona is a highly strung individual who suffers from paranoia and a growing desire to see her husband screwed over privately but not publicly, though recently she doesn't care much either way. Desdemona married young and feels cheated out of a life she could have had. She also feels certain her husband is cheating on her but that may be part of the paranoia. Recently Mona took to living vicariously through her eldest daughter's achievements and she loves her girls in her own way, so the tragedy has struck her hard. In public Mona was always poised and good at appearing to be the perfect socialite, but now that image is unravelling fast and she sneers more often than she means to, gets obscenely drunk and isn't opposed to flirting with the nice police man at the door.
Background: Desdemona came from a background of hard-working people with strong family ties. Her father built his empire up from the ground and he taught his children to be entrepreneurs, raising them to fend for themselves. He paid for them to have private tuition in the sciences and the arts and Mona went on to study fashion. But one thing came to another and before too long she found herself a wife and then a mother and over time her looks began to fade and people didn't take her seriously because she was simply the pretty wife of a successful man. They also didn't like her. Mrs Adams could feel their hatred and their jealousy and she couldn't stand to be in the same room as them with their simpering smile hiding what they really felt. When not socialising, Mona would sit at home and drink, but sometimes she could be convinced to put it away when Alice asked if she'd like to watch her perform. Alice had a way of bringing the family together just enough to keep them from falling apart.
Other: Desdemona doesn't really think her husband had a part in their daughter's death, otherwise she would have killed him herself. But she does think his actions might have contributed and she is afraid of the mafia, but also recklessly unhinged. Mona wouldn't mind seeing her husband behind bars. Also, hello Mr. nice policemen, oh won't you come inside with me?
Full Name: Tienna Kavorkian Age: 27 Appearance: Tienna wears mainly black and white and dresses in androgynous clothes. Personality: Tienna is a secratary for the Mob, she takes notes, makes sure all the money is in order and knows everything that goes on within it. She probably knows the most other than Mr. Garg himself. She is very articulate, and never loses her cool, even in the face of disasters. She is incredibly hard working. She makes sure that everything goes smoothly and she does quite well at it. She is very calculates and tries to reserve judgement on people until she sees their true colours. She can be quite friendly if she trusts you well enough. Background: Tienna was born in New York City and has a very thick accent. Her father was Armenian and her mother was Russian. Her mother died in childbirth and her father had to raise Tienna on his own. They lived in NYC until she was fifteen when her father was killed on the death penalty when the police mistakenly framed him for being a serial killer. The cops found the evidence that would have released him two months too late. With an intense hate for the police Tienna moved to LA. She found a job with the mob(rhyming!) through a mutual friend and worked for Mr. Garg ever since. Other: She carries a handgun with her everywhere she goes.
Nella vita vi è la distruzione, desolazione nella morte, ma c'è speranza nella rivoluzione.
Oh believe me Rydia, you're not in for a walk in the park either.
Full Name: Theodore Nathaniel Adams
Age: 41
Appearance: Here. He has short dark brown/black hair, moderate height (5' 11"), slight paunch. He has brown eyes, which always seem to be looking at something far away.
Personality: Prior to the depression he was a loving, if absent, father and a prominent socialite. When the depression hit he grew distant, and cold, sometimes going days without seeing his children or speaking to his wife. Even though he had been a permanent fixture at any and all social events prior to the depression, he almost completely disappeared from the public eye. Though he had never been close to her, Alice's death hit him hard. He started drinking at all hours of the day, would often wander from the house in the middle of the night, sometimes not returning for days. The murder also destroyed any semblance of peace in his marriage, though unwilling to accuse him of anything Ted knows Mona blames him.
Background: His father built Adams steel from the ground up. When Ted was younger his father impressed three things on him, first, a husband's duty is to protect his family, second, a businessman's duty is to protect his workers, third, a man's duty is to control himself, and fourth, any failure in these duties is on your head. During his time in school he was an average student, no real friend and no real enemies, the kind of person you could need to be introduced to every day. After graduating he worked as his father's assistant, gradually taking his father's place as the leader and public face of Adam's steel. At some minor social event he met a beautiful girl who called herself Mona, after that night they parted, hoping to never see each other again. Three months later Mona showed up at his doorstep, pregnant, demanding a handout and Ted knew he had a choice. He had both the money and connections to make both of them disappear, but his father's words on duty came back to haunt him, and he proposed to her on the spot.
That night was the first time he drank.
Other: The combination of the depression, his alcoholism, and his daughter's murder have left him a broken man.
A man without a plan, or anything else for that matter. (Except a review thread).
August was about the time of year that the summer heat made Isabel restless. This summer it seemed especially so. It had gone on too long. Considering what happened barely a week ago, she knew that even when she went to school in a month and got away from her family, things would never be the same. Not only would Isabel become the person who everyone took advantage of because she was rich, she would also be a freak, the girl with a murdered sister.
The last few days had been surreal. She'd barely seen her mother. In the few short conversations she had had with her father, he seemed on edge, nervous, scared. The night before she'd had to be a good older sister -- something Alice always used to do -- and give Clara a shoulder to cry on.
The four had just finished a relatively silent lunch out on the patio. In about thirty minutes, one of the detectives from the LAPD who was working on the case was supposed to come over and ask questions. Isabel wished he wouldn't come, that he could just leave her to her agony and to ponder why this was happening to her; the only person who ever took her seriously gone.
Whenever Isabel needed to take her mind off things, she played the piano. The music room was where she was heading now. Once she got there, she sat down, closed her eyes, and started playing the happiest thing she could think of. She lost herself in the music, wishing that no one would disturb her.
All our dreams can come true — if we have the courage to pursue them. -- Walt Disney
This wasn't how I'd planned it. I sipped at my cognac brandy, feeling the burn of the smooth, heavy liquid as it ran around my tongue and down my throat. My grey eyes looked out across the room, filled with leather, luxuries and heavy dark red curtains. They shut out the light. Something had gone wrong.
I knew Tienna and Devonte would be in my study soon. They'd been doing petty crime work to make up for the cash void I was owed all over the States. Now I needed them back to find out what had gone wrong at the Adams family. They'd investigate it and, inevitably, restore the money the Adams' owed us. It seemed the only plausible way to resolve the situation - for both parties. I just hoped the police would stay out of our way. It would do them good.
I looked at the time. It was approaching midday. I was having my brandy in the morning which was never a good sign. My shoes tapped on the floor. I watched the minute hand stroke through the numbers. Then the phone rang.
I picked it up. 'Yes?' I breathed into the receiver.
'Mister Garg, this is the police department,' the woman on the other line said - I guessed she was an operator of some kind. A desk hoot.
'And how may I help the PD?'
'We'd like to book an appointment with you regarding the recent death of Ms Adams. Just routine. Are you available next week?' the woman asked.
I imagined her. Her eyes falling on to her paper work, flicking up to her list of appointments pinned on the cork board. Her heart would be pounding with fear - for she'd heard about me, undoubtedly - but it wouldn't stir her. It made her smile. It made her lust. I knew it, we all knew it.
'I'm not, Miss, sorry.'
I hung up. No time for the police. I was sipping brandy.
Food wasn't something Mona needed, she hadn't more than picked at it for days. Which was made more noticeable by the fact that she made too much, not yet accustomed to cooking for less and nobody said anything about it, but there was always food to be scraped into the bin. Why she even bothered, some days Mona didn't know.
The dishes were stacked in the dishwasher with an angry clink and Desdemona shot her ungrateful husband a barely concealed glare as she took a glass out of the cabinet and poured herself a drink.
"That policeman's coming," her husband injected most helpfully. Mona pressed the glass to her lips and took a drink. Then Isabel was playing the rutting piano and Mona's hands began to shake and she rapidly set the glass down.
The doorbell rang. Mona stayed fixed in her seat and waited for her husband to get it. "Well?" she demanded. "I'm sure he'll want to talk to you first." Her mouth lifted up a little in a sneer as she said it and of course she was implying that the police had most reason to talk to him. Mona didn't know what she'd do if she found out how much of a part her husband had played in their daughter's death, but she barely had any sanity to lose.
Lacey took a deep breath, made sure his notebooks and pens were in place one last time, and stepped out into the midday heat of LA. It was crushing, overwhelming, even. Took the starch right out of his collar. Beneath his hat, sweat had begun to pool at the headband, and he was becoming painfully aware of his scratchy wool suit. He headed up the gravel path that lead through the garden, shoes crunching as he did so. He felt a pit in his stomach, this nervousness, eating away at him. He really didn't want to be here, but his boss had told him he expected a full report by the next day. Lacey hated that. These people were ludicrously rich. It wasn't going to be like when some guy got drunk at the bar and up and decides to shoot some other guy. Cases like that, they were gruesome, sure, but they were simple. This... he had a bad feeling about this. It wasn't going to be as simple as a drunken bout of anger.
Before he knew it, he'd arrived at the door, painfully aware of his moist armpits. Somewhere off in the distance, a piano was playing a chipper little tune. If he'd been an impartial observer, he'd have laughed at the scene. A frightened homicide detective going up to a massive mansion in the sweltering summer heat to investigate a city-wide tragedy. What juxtaposition. Shaking the thought from his head, he rang the doorbell, hearing the chimes echo into the far reaches of the house. He stepped back and waited for what felt like an eternity. He heard a shrill female voice snap at someone before the door swung open, revealing Mrs. Adams.
Immediately Lacey was taken aback. He read the papers, yes, but mostly for the crime blotter or the funnies. If he saw news about the Adams family, it was only in passing. But to see her in the flesh was... mesmerizing. Suddenly, he realized he'd gone without introducing himself, quickly thrusting out his hand. She shook it slowly, eying him the entire time.
"Afternoon. I'm detective Lacey Lonergan, LAPD. Mind if I come in?"
She stepped aside, sweeping her arm to the right as she did so, revealing a dour looking Mr. Adams sitting in the parlor with his feet up.
"Of course."
Lacey walked in, deliriously grateful for the air conditioning in the house. Mrs. Adams offered him a seat, which he took. Mrs. Adams sat across from him, poised and composed. Lacey forced a smile and whipped out his notepad and pencil. He flipped the cover open and got ready to write when Mrs. Adams offered him a drink as she nursed her own. Lacey declined graciously, as he had seen firsthand the effects of alcoholism. He quickly jotted "potential alcoholism??" in his notebook before addressing the two of them.
"Mr. and Mrs. Adams, before we begin, I'd like to ask that your two daughters join us so I can get a story from each member of the family?"
Mr. Adams grumbled something to the affirmative before shouting for the two daughters, both of whom appeared momentarily. They sat down, waiting patiently for Lacey to begin. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his cool.
"So, I suppose I should begin with this. Where was each of you on the night Alice was murdered?"
Lacey licked the tip of his pencil to ensure it was sharp before getting ready to take down all of their alibis. This, he thought, is going to take forever.
"There are no absolute rules of conduct, either in peace or war. Everything depends on circumstances."
Clara had spent a great deal of time in bed. In fact, the only way she had been coaxed down to dinner was because her sister had insisted some degree of normality be preserved. Though they weren't close, and they had grown more distant with each year, the death of Alice had left a huge hole in her heart.
As she did every night, Clara discarded most of the food on her plate and fed the rest to her dog, Dinah, who sat patiently next to her as sat miserably around a silent table.
Isabel was the first to leave the table and her mother began grudgingly cleaning up the leftovers. Suddenly the doorbell rang and her parents froze as they did every time they were confronted by the police force.
"Time to go Dinah," Clara muttered, pulling softly at the dog's collar and leading him out the back door to get away.
In more functional families, Clara supposed that parents would keep a tighter rein on their children in the aftermath of the death of one of them, but in this family it seemed as if they would only look after themselves.
“One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes” ~ The Little Prince~
Post coming later tonight (around 11EST). Synopsis:
Devonte (and another lowly thug assigned with him) rob a diner on the outskirts of town Pulp Fiction style. After an action-packed police chase, he calls in a contact to pick him up, and arrives at the corner of the block where Garg's office is housed to find a police cruiser stationed in a vacant construction lot across the street. He rings up Garg and he leaves to meet Tienna to make the cash drop.
Back later bookies. <3
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon
I am the property of Rydia, please return me to her ship.
Hope you don't mind me jumping in here Lumi, but Mona can't wait to ruin her husband's life
Desdemona
The officer she opened the door to was about half her age and normally Mona wouldn't have gone for him, but the glassy eyed look he got as she leaned against the frame and turned her smile on him - alright. This one was fair game. And why in blazes shouldn't she flirt with anyone she liked, when her husband was going around getting his affections elsewhere?
Mona didn't say a word, instead waiting for him to break the spell because she knew how men liked to be in control. And when he did, she was the perfect host and invited him in graciously, even offering up a seat to the poor, tired police officer.
It wasn't long before the whole family were gathered and that was nearly enough to warn Mona off, but the drink was warm as it trickled down her throat and her husband's inattention left a void to be filled.
"So, I suppose I should begin with this. Where was each of you on the night Alice was murdered?"
Mona's eyelids flickered at his word and she closed them tight for a moment, feeling a real pang. Did they have to go and word it like that? She opened them a second later and fixed them on the young officer before slowly crossing her bare legs, one sliding up the other to push her skirts ever so slightly higher.
"I was at Mrs Pavelle's baby shower," Mona answered immediately. It wasn't new knowledge and they'd asked her enough times that two months later she had no trouble recalling. What she hadn't mentioned was that she had left early but nobody had pulled her up on this yet.
"You next, darling. Why don't you tell him where you were." Desdemona turned to fake a sweet smile in her husband's direction but all of her real ones were saved for the handsome young man with the note pad.
"Here are the photos of the crime scene, detective."
The secretary handed the files to him before making her leave quickly and quietly.
Those film developers like to take their time, but they were finally on his desk, and he could study them. His partner should be at the crime scene by now, interrogating the suspects. He would have gone himself, but he trusted his partner to get the job done. As long as Lonergan didn't sweat a second swimming pool before he left.
Scott flicked through the photos, then set them aside. He had no desire to look at those right now, though he was still pleased that he had them on hand. No, he was more curious about Adams' company.
The mafia.... It still wasn't clear that the mafia had any personal business with the company, though he would never take the rumor lightly. The mafia has been the number one threat in this city. The only problem is: The mafia's as good as he was. They cleaned up after themselves. They weren't easy to track.
They would have to rely on Lonergan's investigation. He took the photos back and studied them for any peculiar signs, unfazed by the victim's mangled body.
His secretary's gentle tap sounded at the door again, and he looked up as she helped herself inside. She leaned against the door frame and smiled, letting her brown curls bounce behind her shoulder to reveal her slender neck. "Anything else I can get you, sir? A coffee perhaps--"
"Start a search for any crimes the mafia were involved in," Scott said, his eyes falling back at the photos. "I want their records over the last.... Let's do two months."
The woman pouted and stood back up, rubbing the wrinkles out of her skirt. "Yes, sir."
His eyes followed her rear out the door, thinking, Let's just hope Loner asks the right questions.
I wrapped my hand around the gun that I had in my belt. I was wearing long black pants, a white button up shirt, and a pair of black stilettos. It was my typical uniform, and it didn't draw attention to me in any way, though it was strange for a woman to be wearing mens' clothing, though it was becoming more common.
I was walking along a back alley that was sloppily paved. Though I walked in heels quite well, they were slipping at every opportunity they got. I was meeting up with Devonte so he could give me the money that he'd hit up a diner for.
I was worried for the business. The Mob was drawing more attention to itself than it could afford. I'd been working for Mr. Garg for over five years now, and we'd never had this much publicity. Now that that heiress, Alice Adams, was gone I'd never felt so hunted. The police seemed to be on a manhunt for anything that had to do with this murder.
Working for Mr. Garg was now truly becoming dangerous. I'd always been able to take care of myself, especially in fights, but now that the entire town was on our backs, they were becoming increasingly hard to shake off.
I turned a corner and saw Devonte waiting for me. He was holding a thick wad of cash in his hand. He looked relieved to see me. "Good, I'd worried you were taken in for questioning."
"Questioning?" Devonte hands me the cash. I stuff it in my cash right next to my gun.
He nods his head. "Yeah, Mr. Garg's office is being staked out. I think he made it out of their, but the cops are on a witchhunt for anyone that has even the slightest bit of information."
"I've been pretty inconspicuous as far as I can tell. I've never been seen with any known member and I certainly haven't killed anyone," I look down for a second, thinking, "If anyone should be worried... it's you. You've taken down almost anyone the mob needed gone. "
"The police may not know much, but if they get ahold of anyone that has had any previous experience with us, we're screwed," his eyes widened. In the water on the pavement I see a blurred reflection of a man. Slowly, Devonte reaches out to my waist and pulls the gun from my belt. I see the reflection tense up right before Devonte shoots him.
The man falls. I turn around to see someone lying on the ground, dead. Tears start to well up in my eyes. I force them back. Of course bile rises up when I see the blood flowing from a direct shot to his heart. I force that back too.
I kneel down next to him and check his pulse. Devonte raises his eyebrows and I nod, confirming his death.
Devonte whispers, "We should get out of here, someone probably heard that."
"You go. My gun's distinctive, I have to pull the bullet out."
"I can honestly say I've never done that."
I put my knee on top of the dead man's body. "You don't have bullets that explode so forcefully." He nods. Apparently he wasn't leaving. "If you're not going to go then check his ID."
Devonte goes throught the man's pocket. I stick my hand inside the cavity and grope around until I can feel the tiny little pellet that remains. I pull it out and chuck it into a storm drain. My hands were covered in blood. That was going to ruin my shirt.
"I'm going to go to Mr. Gargs. He's at his second office right?" Devonte nodded.
"See you there. Don't die."
"You too."
I walk off, staying as quiet as I can. I was at Mr. Gargs in fifteen minutes.
Nella vita vi è la distruzione, desolazione nella morte, ma c'è speranza nella rivoluzione.
Your wife sucks by the way, see below: 
Tienna wears mainly black and white and dresses in androgynous clothes. 
