rawly: (neutral: bw in crowbar)


"You know what to do."

calls | voicemail | text | pics | video
rawly: (positive: pleaseddd)
[Sonny leaves the lion that Lena gave to him when she was six years old on her bed in her room in the Crowbar. Attached to the tiny stuffed lion is a note 'To Remind You'. She magicked that bunny into existence, and it will always remind him that she's his daughter here, that he lost one daughter but still has another that he hasn't lost. Now he wants her to have that reminder that she lost her father but she has a father here, who will always look out for her.

He's not good at giving gifts in person which is why it's sitting there for her on her bed without even his name on the note]



Happy Birthday, Lena.
rawly: (negative: past thoughts dark)
Josef Soltini and Elizabeth Jules died earlier today.



I am very sorry for your loss for those of you that knew either or both of them.

[public]

Aug. 20th, 2011 12:04 am
rawly: (chat: well you know this)
My given name is Sebastian DeLuca.
rawly: (negative: fuck)
Find her. Make sure she's safe.

Please.

She won't want to come back. Just take care of her.

[public]

Mar. 30th, 2011 11:50 pm
rawly: (chat: argumenet)
What the fuck is up with kids these days?

I was just flipped off by a gang of twelve year olds.

Jesus.

I know the world's a shitty place and people are dying and everything seems all dark but fuck. Learn some Goddamned manners.

It's polite, respectful. In this city, it'll help keep you alive especially if your a bratty, snot mouthed, weak twelve year old.

And no, they didn't get away with it. It's just shit like this that really grinds my gears. Fuck.
rawly: (negative: thoughts of the dark)
I think we have a bomber to find.


I get why this would be a mission that would be triggering for some of us. If you want out, I understand. This is something I've got to do.
rawly: (i know how to solve your problem)
[OOC: SORRY FOR THE SPAM. He is ridiculous. This lock includes new employees too. :x]

Lena. You should talk to me, and you should be giving the silent treatment to Lucky. As I said before, Jucky had a moment. They have a song now. Did he tell you about that moment? It was very special. I was there. I was so touched and moved by this moment that I couldn't stop laughing.

You know you want to talk to me. :) Who wouldn't? Why are you squandering what others would give anything to have? It's a mystery.

It makes no sense at all. It's a shame! A damn shame! Have you gotten the notes yet? Full of words of wisdom? I hope you've been enjoying them. I've enjoyed writing them. [Ooc: yes, he's been shoving papers under her door/sticky notes around the Crowbar that say Hi Lena or You should solve your problems with words instead of silence or Stubbornness is foolishness etc. He hasn't been sleeping well lately with all the ish going on so extra time to be annoying.]
rawly: (positive: somethin of  a smile)
The silent treatment?

That's really mature of you.

You should think about talking to me, because I have a lot of good things to say as I'm sure you've learned over all these years.

And you know that the rose petal shower was hilarious. I'm taking a wild guess that that's why you're not talking to me, but to be honest, I'm still laughing about it.

Then Jucky had a moment while there were rose petals and singing birds. They found their official label of BFFs, and the birds sang an appropriate song.

Yeah, you'll have to excuse me cause I gotta go laugh about this again.
rawly: (negative: past thoughts dark)
Title: Loving What Can Die
Note: About Elena Scott, an OC of Ella's... and brief mentions about all the losses that those of the Crowbar have suffered, but mostly about Elena. Inspired by this picture prompt

Read more... )
rawly: (action: seated)
I'm gonna throw something out there on the table.

If you see something, don't know what it is, and decide to touch it, don't be surprised or offended when it bites (kills, curses, maims, burns, or otherwise harms you in some way).

If you're going to make dumb decisions or take risks that's your prerogative, I'm just sick of all the people walking around in the aftermath being so fuckin shocked about it.

"Oh expletive-of-your-choice! How could this be? I touched this unknown object that probably fell out of the Rift, and it turned my hand into a preying mantis arm/sent me into another dimension/impregnated me/fucked my mom."

Sometimes the Rift does stuff to you whether you touch an object or not. Sometimes an object will do something nice to you like make you feel good or give you some temporary ability, but if you know Chicago at all, you know that 9 times out of 10 that object will fuck you up. Do yourself a favor. Don't take that chance.

This is free fucking advice, and I never give anything out for free so everyone should be grateful.


[Locked to Crowbar Employees]

Meeting over breakfast this morning.

Scratch that. I like my eggs. I want to enjoy them.

Meeting immediately following breakfast.
rawly: (hmm well)
Title: A Tale of Two Sonnys
Summary: Sonny Corinthos and Sonny meet. GH/Crowbar verse.
Note: This kinda sucks, I'm sure. I am writing it at a really early hour in the morning and I haven't slept, but WHATEVER. I wanted to do something instead of sitting here awake, and I just... started writing so yes. >>" <3 It's short... and weirdly written and yeah.

Read more... )
rawly: (negative: past thoughts dark)
The nights are short. Not like wish-they-were-longer type of short or drank-too-much-and-passed-out-again type of short. No, the nights are short like blink-and-they're-gone type of short.

It hasn't always been this way. Somewhere around year 80 or 78 or whenever John left, nights became like blinking.

Sonny tends bar more often than anyone would think, given that he owns the place.

He likes getting his hands dirty. He likes that small talk across beers and cashews (like Jo said, they're a classy type of bar, okay).

People come in. They want his help. They want info. They want a curse lifted. They want to know where they can go. They come to him, because he is about as All-Knowing as anyone in Chicago could be. People should kill him for what he knows, but he keeps all the information in different hiding places. Besides, he's too damn invaluable to kill and he's on nobody's side.

They come in. They ask for help.

A short exchange follows. They flash that green. The smell of money makes a lot of men go mad with greed. It makes them stupid.. Sonny couldn't give a shit about money, but he charges to teach a lesson.

Nothing comes without a price.

It's a lesson he learned somewhere around year 28.

"Hey, Sonny." Hand slaps against the bar. The sound of it knocks him out of the reverie of his head. "Hit me up."

Sonny smirks at him.

"What? Can't even say please?" He barely knows the guy, never has to. "You forget your manners?"

There's an eyeroll, a surge of anger that Sonny feels but a surge of amusement too. People have a tendency to not get too angry at him. And Sonny doesn't have to do shit to make it so.

"Please."

Sonny pulls the beer out, pops the top, and slides it across the bar. It lands directly in that slap-happy hand.

Always had good aim. It's what she used to say.

The patrons go back to their conversing. Sonny goes back to serving them.

He likes that the nights are like blinking.
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