been a bad week | open

[TARQUIN FINLEY ELLIS]

First had been the overall shock and pain; the feeling you've just been hit with a mack truck because you cannot compute what just happened; cannot cope. It was like that for a few days. Yes, Quinn had closed himself off after the funeral and all that had happened afterwards. The will reading. At least only Calan had been there, the only other one mentioned in the will anyway. But the contents of that document itself; the words... it had been too much. Something within him had finally cracked. Everything hurt, and there had been tears. Tears the he did not like to cry, did not want anyone to ever see... He hated that kind of weakness from himself. But this? This was too much. For all the threats and cold words over the years.. Roman's death did affect him badly. Really badly. He had become reclusive in those days that followed, and he did end up opening a journal, reading it. But it only made things worse. Only made the emotions pour over, and the rage start to build more and more.

Quinn had always wanted Amery gone. He never said it, never let it show... could never do anything about it because at first Roman had asked him not to. And when that no longer held Quinn to anything, it was there mere fact that getting rid of Amery would give Roman the reins to the family, and that was not something that Quinn could deal with.It would have been too much, something he wouldn't have been able to handle. Yet with Roman gone, everything in Quinn's mind became blurred. He wasn't thinking things through. And he acted on that. Irrational, impusive; he just acted.There had been a hunter's gun left after a fight he'd seen from a distance, and although Quinn wasn't good with guns -- liable to shoot his own foot off, that's how cruddy he was with them -- he took the gun, and a plan had formed all too quickly, all too easily in his mind. He knew what he was going to do, and so he waited for the right moment, knowing it had to be clean, had to look real.

Walking around at night hadn't been a good idea, but Amery was into some bad shit anyway, so it was all too easy to make it look like a hunter got to him. Okay sure, he'd missed the first shot, got the second in a non-fatal area, but the third time's the charm, and he'd had to get up close and personal to deliver that last one. The others, they made the whole thing look realistic. And so did the scorchmarks left by fire that couldn't really even touch Quinn. He wasn't a hunter, afterall. Either way, he'd said his bit, finished the job, and left. Ended up in jail that night for something else -- busted in some store's window before the murder, took out the camera -- and then he doubled back and let the cops find him in the place eating a bag of chips and drinking a mountain dew. Good alibi, though he wouldn't have really needed one in the first place. Who would suspect him? He'd never shown much discontent towards Amery to anyone's face but Roman's. And the gun had been some hunter's gun, so special bullet. Not that it was needed for a firetamer, of course.

He was bailed out of jail quickly, had the mess pretty much swept under the rug; it was good to be an Ellis, sometimes. But then he just kinda shut down. For all that saw him, they might have seen it as more shock, mourning another loss so soon. They never did suspect him, and he never gave them a reason to. But with the days, he acted out more and more; ended up in jail a few more times before he simply crashed; burnt out from all the fights. He knew he needed to tell Nikki, but he'd been dodging her calls, Rue's calls; everyone's. Staying away from the apartment, since they'd look there. Didn't go to the gym, the martial arts classes like usual... he was a mess, and he hadn't wanted to be found. And he did something he wouldn't do in a right state of mind; he went to a bar, sat down and started drinking. Kept an eye on his drink at all times -- that shit was hard-wired into his brain now, after the last episode -- but either way, he was getting drunk. Not a good thing, since that usually led to fighting, but... he didn't care right now.

[CALLA ADELPHIA ELLIS]

For Calla this was just another of them nights. She always went out, she always got drunk, she always hooked up. It was all part of the endless game, of the loop that had become her life and belonged with her. There was no ending, only her and her art, that took more and more crazy forms and shapes, ways of making it. The use of chainsaws was not strange anymore for Calla, it really wasn't. Once she persuaded someone to have sex on canvas while covered entirely in bodypaint. Oh, fun times, fun times. But sometimes Calla also grew tired of her existence like that. It tired at times, always keeping on going, always being that one person who came up with the ideas, to be loathed by her parents and family, to be judged by all and then not care about it either. And honestly, Calla did not care. Most of the times, really, she could not care less. Hell, she had sex with a hunter for Christ's sake, even if it hadn't meant anything, which both of them knew. Calla knew, Cooper knew, it was simple as that. Wasn't it lovely that way? It was why Calla preferred one-nighters and fwb's over anything else. And casual hookups were even preferred. Sometimes with fwb's the other started feeling more. There would be feelings because you got so intimate with a friend. Friendships could be destroyed and she really wasn't into that.

Why the girl felt so melancholical today, she really had no clue. She wasn't the gloomy type, she was usually high on life (or whatever other stuff she got into her hands) and joyful and though she pissed people off daily with her sceptical and ironic way of being, her sarcasm and her blunt words, Calla Ellis was all about fun. Well that, and bothering her sister ofcourse. Tullia was her favorite target when it came to messing with, because she was probably the most stuck up bitch on the fucking planet. She couldn't say she regretted messing with Tullia's friendship with Jayne and all the other stuff she had done to her, though most of them were still sort of innocent. Especially if you saw what Calla was capable off. But then again, Tullia wasn't a sweetheart either, and hit back likewise. The younger firetamer just pretended it didn't hurt her. She was really good in that, it was a role she had perfectioned by now. Plus, she couldn't help it that Weston wasn't deceived by Tullia, but Jayne had been by her. But enough thinking and all that shit, it was time to go out and to have a drink and to have fun. Calla was good with that, it would help her get her positive vibe back. Hoisting her hoisiery over her legs, whcih were more holes than actual fabric, she put her denim skirt on, a short one, like usual, and kicked her feet in her biker boots. Her shirt was just a plain loose white one which said 'I've got issues' in big black letters, and her leather jacket and Calla was ready to go. She was never too difficult about how she was dressed, the whole biker girl thing worked pretty well for her anyways.

Calla pursed her red lips at the mirror, brushing a hand through her messy-on-purpose brown curls and headed out of the door, a cigarette burning between her fingers. The cold midnight air always relaxed her pretty much. It was soothing, cold and awakening, and she loved that. The smoke that filled her lungs had something familiar, even though she knew smoking was bad for her voice. Calla really didn't care that much. Entering the dive tank, her dark eyes gazed around for familiar faces, and she curved an eyebrow as she saw one. Quinn wasn't really the one to sit there on his own getting drunk. Getting drunk wasn't his thing anyways. "Hey Quinn, what are you doing here?" The girl inquired as she dropped herself at the bar besides her cousin, ordering herself a Jack Daniel's with a wink at the handsome bartender. Hey, why not?

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[TARQUIN FINLEY ELLIS]

Quinn was not big on the partying. It wasn't his style, and since getting drunk often led to fighting, it was usually best not to go there. Being sober led to fighting enough as it was, honestly. The past two weeks could attest to that fact. And he'd been doing so well not getting into fights the months past. Just like that, everything went to hell. Probably because with Roman dead, there were conversations they should have had that would never be. Things left unsaid, questions without answers. But maybe that was for the best, because the answers might have been more then Quinn could deal with. That did happen, the truth could be worse then what his mind made up in it's stead. He had his reasons for the things that he'd done, though he has to wonder just how badly this could all come back on him if they ever found out that he'd been the one to end Amery. Loyalty to the clan was a big thing, and for the most part Quinn was. Yet there were times when even family had to pay for their mistakes. Certainly if they were as bad as Amery's were. In some way, Quinn blamed Amery for what had happened with Roman. He supposed that his brother had to find acceptance somewhere while their father was beating on him all the time. It was still messed up, though.

Yet now was the right time to have done it all. To make Amery pay, because the family's business and such couldn't be passed down to Roman; which would have been a worse fate in Quinn's opinion, because of the history there. Who knew what Roman would do, insist upon had he gotten the title and whatnot? Quinn hadn't been very nice to him for the past six years. Threats and ignoring his older brother's exsistance had been the way it had went for all this time. Roman could have very well gotten back at Quinn for those things. Though Quinn still thought his actions or non-actions to be justified. He was still pissed off at Roman, dead as his older brother may be. Yet with the journals now in his possession and half read, Quinn had many more feelings on the whole thing. The ring left to him was on a chain in his pocket, though he wasn't quite sure what to do with it, how to deal with it at all. Or if he should wear it around his neck or if that was messed up... So much confusion in his life now; and he still had to muddle on through with everything. He still hadn't spoken to Nikki on this, though by now all of Manuka probably knew about the deaths. Ellis' were being knocked off here and there. Four down within the year, was it?

Quinn had no issues with Calla, though there weren't many he had any problems with. Damon bitched about his hair, but aside from that, there wasn't any problems that hadn't been in his immediate family. He had no place to be judging anyone, not at all. All the things he'd done in his life? What he'd recently done that was the worst of all? Yet the worst things no one had to know about. Calan knew about Roman now, but that was because he'd been there for the will reading, and Roman had been damn open about shit on that bit of paper. Oh well. It... said alot, those words. But hell, he'd never wanted Calan to know. So he'd been avoiding alot on that point. Then again, he had been keeping away from them all, and he was sure they understood on account of the deaths alone. It would affect anyone, being that close; being family. But he supposed he would be a huge disappointment more then he already was if the clan knew about all the things he hid from them. Way worse then Calla could be. Quinn had slept with a hunter as well, afterall. And the bad didn't even begin or stop there. Yeah, he was much worse. And now he was trying to drink himself under the table because... he needed a way out for now. Not something he often took, but for now... he had to. With a few drinks already in his system, he grumbled at his name being said, but turned to eye Calla anyway. Calming to see it was her and not someone else, he gave a faint smile in greeting, then shrugged. "Isn't that what people do when family dies? Drink?" He made a derisive noise and took another drink.

[SEAJAY]

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