Saints of Boston

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by BMO, Jan 31, 2013.

  1. The day was starting like any other day, with headaches from drinking the night before and washing blood from their bodies. Everybody knew them as the Saints, but for Connor and Murphy MacManus they were just normal men. They saw what they had first done as a calling from God, to clean the streets of Boston of the filth that was covering it. They were picking their way through the mafia, killing each one as they were dropped into their laps. The fraternal twin brothers were doing what the police couldn’t do, killing the scum that was hurting their home.

    That day was going to be no different for the boys, they would spend the day just being their normal selves, but when night fell, they would be getting rid of a few more men from the mafia crowd. They were making their way to the top, and figured sooner or later one group would be taken out. Then they would have to figure out who else was making this place a living hell. At the moment though, the boys were in their apartment, cleaning their guns for what was coming that night.

    Flicking his cigarette ash into the ashtray, Connor set down his gun and leaned back in his chair, looking across the table at his brother, “Aye Murph, I’m getting bored. Let’s go grab a beer and do this later.” Stretching his arms above his head, Connor yawned as he stood up. It was a little after 5 o’clock and he was itching to get out of their apartment. They wouldn’t be ready to take on another mission till dark set on them, so Connor wanted to pass the time by going for a beer.

    “Aye, let’s go.” Murphy set down his guns as he followed his brother in standing up, stretching his arms above his head and heading towards the front door. They would be able to get their guns cleaned and ready later that night, but both boys were itching to get out of their apartment. Grabbing their jackets, the boys pulled them on as they headed to the bar, ready to get a few drinks in them before setting out that night.
  2. Alira had spent the day cooking and cleaning, getting cigars, cigarettes,
    booze, and ashtrays for her father and his crew.

    They were planning something, but she didn't know what- she wasn't allowed to know.
    It was a long day, but finally, some of the men started to leave.

    She was glad, because it meant she didn't have to clean anymore.
    Her father came into the living room, and smiled at her.
    "Alira, come here with me."
    He said, kissing the top of her head, and then walking off to sit in his favorite chair.

    "What's wrong father?" She asked, sitting next to him.

    "I'm not sure, I've heard some rumours."
    He replied, taking a drag off his cigar.
    "I'll be fine, darling. Just get me some dinner, please?"

    Alira sighed, and served her father some dinner.
    "I'm gonna go change and take a shower."
    She told him, and went upstairs.

    The water was hot, and for a while she just sat in it, thinking.
    Her father was the leader of the Mafia, so she was
    around violence every day.
    But she didn't like it.
    She was trained to fight, and to shoot.

    But she never did that unless she had to.
    Usually, she was kept at home for her own safety.

    The water grew cold, and she got out, to dry off.
    Her hair was a light blonde, her eyes bright blue.
    She took after her mother- the only woman her father had ever loved.

    Alira walked into her bedroom, and put on a flowy dress,
    then braided her hair.
    It was warm in the house, as she went downstairs to check on her father.
    He'd fallen asleep in his chair.

    A small smile spread across Alira's lips.
    She put a blanket over him, put out his cigar, and turned off the t.v.
    He'd wake up later and make his way to bed.

    Alira went back up to her room to watch some t.v.
    Her bed was comfortable and made her sleepy.
    She began to doze off.
  3. The boys had had a few beers at the bar before returning home to finish cleaning their guns and getting ready for that night. They would be going into the boss’ house, taking care of what was left of the close knit group. It would be dangerous but the boys knew what they were doing and they were ready for anything. Pulling on peacoats, Murphy and Connor left their house to get the mission over with. They never considered themselves murderers for what they were doing, seeing as they were cleaning up the scum of the city. They were doing God’s will by sending these bastards back to Hell.

    Pulling guns from the bag, the Saints reached the house in the dark of the night, moving along quietly and in the shadows. They were smart to get the new guns with the silencers already attached, seeing as they were easier to handle and were quick to use. Firing a few times here and there, the boys were taking out the lower members of the mafia as they made their way through the house. They had to be quiet or else they might bring the whole house down on them.
  4. Alira woke up suddenly, surprised that she'd fallen asleep.
    She yawned and made her way downstairs, seeing her father was still asleep.
    She smiled and covered him, then went into the kitchen.

    As she walked down the hall, something caught her eye in one of the rooms.
    She walked backwards into the room, and saw it was two young men with guns drawn.
    She gasped.

    "W-What are you doing in my house?!" She called out, her heart hammering in her chest.