#ftwtalk

[hcxiier]

eyo, it’s me. Noah. Back at it again with a character. 

Àngel Cabrera || 44 || Vargas Empire Underboss

Born into a big rich family that had the world at their finger tips. He had to be the perfect child big with big expectations thrust upon him by his mom and dad and soon the community around him. Angel eventually had to take over his father's big (under the table criminal) business in Argentina once he got sick and passed away.

There was a coo in the business and they had the full intention of getting rid of Angel as soon as possible. So they framed him for money laundering in the company, he was forced to face the media, the press, and the law. 

Was supposed to be sent away to prison but instead escaped custody and fled the country. With his whole life down the toilet he became depressed. He was young, dumb and at a loss with what to do with his life, he started drinking away what little money he had. Around his time travelling under the radar from bounty hunters he came across the Vargas Empire. Hugo Vargas to be exact

In a bar where over many drinks they became friends, sharing their woes and tribulations. When Hugo found out who Angel was he offered him a job, without anything left to lose, he accepted. Little did he know how deep into the crime syndicate he was getting himself into. 

It had been a couple of years working for The Vargas Empire when Angel got into big trouble, having been toyed with and seduced by a rival member of an opposing organization, Angel unknowingly let valuable information fall into the wrong hands. The empire lost thousands upon thousands of dollars from his mistake. 

Nearly killed for this mistake; he wasn't, since he was Hugo’s friend he was spared. Instead, given another chance. An important job to oversee and move their assets into Montreal. And to keep an eye on the two rivaling syndicates that were running rampant. 

The Ivory Syndicate and Vittori Family weren’t to get in the way and should he fuck up his second chance, they’d have him killed. So with his life hanging by a thread he’s working the front lines in Montreal.

Aloof and high strung, this isn’t a man who you want to mess with. 

[ragebloomed]

[izabellagifs]

for the wicked + families

[emiliaking-archived]

Ivory Syndicate + Aesthetics

[hectorkent-blog]

hey y’all, cai here. local bi cryptid who can be found buried under the nearest tree. my discord handle is cai#8975 and my tumblr is @caiwrites for anyone who wants to chat about plots (keep an eye out for me doing my wanted connection page). oh so original handles right? anyways, here’s my son. please don’t kill him for sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. 

hector kent, thirty-four, non affiliated, firefighter/first responder

Lonely Boy™

born in australia, only child to a muslim filipina and a cardiologist. his father died when he was four, they moved to montreal when he was six. he was a #nerd (fully that kid who read the iliad in middle school) and was teased mercilessly by his peers, which resulted in self isolation/perfectionism & looking up to his father as an ideal. 

mother worked double shifts as a blackjack dealer and substituted actual attention and love with books from a used bookstore near her work & praise for his academic work—which only fueled his isolation/perfectionism. he was the textbook definition of a latchkey kid. 

went into the armed forces when he was 18 cause his idealism and desire for human connection. also his mom remarried and kinda left him behind. went into medical school to follow his father’s footsteps, found he actually really loved it. nothing like beating back death with only your two hands and knowledge.

stuck it out, lost his perfectionist streak a lil, but still became the best in his unit. went on a couple of UN peacekeeping missions, saw a metric ton of hypocrisy. lost his purity, idealism and faith, bailed after his required service contract ended. joined MSF, and then whatever non-profit would have him, once again became a bit disillusioned with the ngo system but still wanted to do what he could to help.

came back to montreal because he had to bury his mother, stayed because his soul was hurting. dealt still dealing with the mental/emotional scars of his work. still is an idealist at heart but its filtered through some serious pragmatism. competent as hell, but tired of the bullshit. considering getting a proper medical degree, but needs to be more mentally stable before that. 

works as a firefighter-first responder. keeps the adrenaline flowing, doesn’t make him confront his issues, yakno. the normal avoidance tactics. he’s starting to catch wind that his chief is on the take, is appalled at the number of overdose deaths and how they get ignored. wants to do some sleuthing/speaking to power but definitely shouldn’t.

just..... please, hector. just keep your head down. 

[scottyscanlan-archived-blog]

Hello everyone!

I’m Amy (she/her) and I’m super hype about joining this group and learning more about y’all’s wonderful characters! Please excuse the mess on my end while we get settled. I don’t have a personal writing/muse blog like a Real Writer™ so I gotta improvise. That being said, if you’d like to plot or bounce some wc’s, please drop me an IM or hmu on discord!!  eat the rich.#4973

I’m very proud to introduce to you my trash child: 

Cain “Scotty” Scanlan (38, Made Man w/ Ivory Syndicate, Bouncer at The Luxure)

[ tw: death, guns, drugs, alcoholism ]

Was born in Northern Ireland, he & his older brother were orphaned in their pre-teen years and brought overseas to be raised by their aunt in Canada.

Stereotypical fightin’ Irish type since grade school, constantly drinking, missing a few good teeth, has a self-destructive streak in him.

He & his brother were partners in crime most of their lives, pulling cons big and small to keep themselves afloat until the eldest volunteered their services to the Ivory Syndicate. Scotty was less than enthused by this decision.

Settled into his duties as a Made Man and became a set of brass knuckles for the Syndicate, for dealings that needed a more personal touch, Scotty was their guy. Beat up another member who presumed he was Scottish, which is how he got the nickname.

Was arrested on a drug bust five-ish years ago, he watched his brother flee the scene and was left to rot in prison.

Scotty just recently got released with a fresh perspective on life, and a hankering to get some sweet, sweet revenge.

[julianpistris-archive]

&&who: Julian Pistris, Michael Pistris &&where: pistris ports | warehouse #3 &&what: The day Michael Died...

One hour until..

The air was freezing cold for a March evening, tendrils of frost painting each window in the warehouse where Julian sat. A cigarette dangled out of the corner of his mouth, anxious fingers typing away on his phone. Within the hour, you know what to do. No kill shots. Footsteps immediately drew his attention, the ever so familiar silhouette of his older brother coming into view. Michael, the golden boy. The person who stood like an immovable fortress between Julian and the Pistris crown. The person who had an unsuspecting target painted on his back by his own brother. “Jules- put a jacket on you're going to die from hypothermia.” A laugh left his lips before he took a seat across from his younger sibling. They’d always been so different: blond hair and blue eyes shone like summer sun and sky in the eldest, just like their father while Julian had inherited his mother’s dark features. “Eh, if it comes to that at least I’ll look good in my casket. I like the cold.” One had a promising future: head of the family who masqueraded as a philanthropist by day and skilled tactician by night. The kingdom keys had been placed in Michael’s palm, and god damn had he rose to the occasion. Behind that bright light was Julian, enveloped in addiction and chaos like death himself. How could anyone ever trust a man like that to lead? His father certainly didn’t.

“I love you but you really come off as a crazy person sometimes..” It was a rare thing that both brothers were on watch at the same time. Usually, Julian had been given some low level task, shitty hours included, where responsibility wasn’t required. The kind of work that made any sane person want to blow their brains out…which meant it was perfect for the ‘psychopathic Pistris’. This time around, however, he’d made some powerful friends in the Vittori that pulled the strings. Warehouse three quickly became the stage, with a succession of power serving as the show. All that was needed was a sacrifice. “Crazy? I prefer… creative.” Julian smirked as he looked Michael over. “Well would you look at us, we get to bond tonight.” It was a sight for sore eyes. There weren’t many people that Julian considered himself close to. He could name a list of maybe three people: Nic, Adem, and curiously enough, Michael. Julian had always wanted to hate him, hate everything he was and stood for… but couldn’t bring himself to do it. How many countless times had he’d stood up for him? Pulled him out of a drugged out haze or kept a bullet from ripping through his skin? “God have mercy on us all.” The complications came in when Francisco Pistris joined the conversation. Fucking bastard. Parental relationships were described as critical to creating a person, the formative years yearning for love and acceptance… though Julian had gotten little more than ash. It wasn’t Michael’s fault at all, but as Julian saw it, he was apart of the problem. All of their cards had been thrown behind him, while the other was left to drown in the St. Lawrence. And when hatred towards his father ran that deep, what better way was there to cause the old man pain than take away his favorite thing in the world? Michael was unfortunate collateral in the whole situation. His blood would fall on the neglect Julian had grown to know...

Twenty minutes until…

“I’ll never forget it, you just froze,I had to pick you up and run off. Mrs. Kosi was fuming- but I didn’t think she was ever going to say anything to dad.” There weren’t many happy memories that floated around in Julian’s childhood, the few that did were blurred by a haze of powder or lost until recounted. “You kept on saying that we were going to get in trouble until I told you to shut up and enjoy the day off of school…” But this one, this one Julian kept close to his cold heart. He’d been in sixth grade, while Michael was a sophomore. It was the day after the Pistris household had celebrated his birthday, which consisted of a nod from his father and a poor attempt at a dinner from his mother.  Food sitting on their table, Julian’s father abruptly stood up and said he had more important business to deal with than a child’s birthday. Waste of time. The words floated around in Julian’s mind, and the next day at school he’d expected nothing exciting to happen. Except it wasn’t the case. There was Michael, standing in his middle school’s hallway, we’re breaking you out of here leaving his lips before the two brothers bolted for the door. A day of hooky, the family Mercedes serving as a getaway car for a whatever havoc ensued after. Scaling Mont-Royal, shooting off fireworks and then running away from the park guards. It all culminated in the two finding themselves at the family ports, the very same warehouse they sat in now. Except there was a cake with the words Happy Birthday Julian inscribed on it, and a gift waiting to be unwrapped. The best birthday he could’ve ever hoped for, given to him by his older brother. “Almost burned your eyebrows off at the park-” Laughs echoed throughout the empty space, Julian grinning before his eyes fell to the lit up phone screen. Expect us soon.

Now…

Bullets ripped through the warehouse, Julian catching the sight of the assailants as he ducked behind a box. His assailants gathered together for one cause: rebirth and revenge. “Jules-” Just as he heard his name leave his brother's lips, dark eyes watched as the man crumpled to the floor in agony. With the thud of his body against the concrete, the gunshots stopped. An eerie quiet fell throughout the room, was this the sound that titans died to? No screams, no war cries, just silence.  Instinctively he made his way to his brother’s side, hands wrapping around him while lifting his head up. “Jules…” A dark red stain was forming on Michael’s shirt, the wound deep but survivable if given the right care. “Hey it’s okay, I’ve got you, you’re going to be okay.” The words left his lips as Julian looked around throughout the warehouse. It was empty, just like the Vittori had promised. Now, at his end, was a single bullet, the gun burning against his hand. “I called for help on the radio, you’re going to be okay.” Brothers. Given any other circumstance, given any other family, the bond would be inseparable. And it was… but enough for Julian to let it throw him in the shadows? Enough to let his father live with the punishment he’d experienced for years? Julian’s eyes looked at Michael’s, blue against black as he spoke. “We’re going to be home soon, everything is going to be fine.” He smiled, fingers gently curving around the base of his gun. “I’m sorry- I didn’t see it coming. Are you okay?” Concern colored Michael’s voice before Julian let out a breath. “Never been better.” The gun went off.

[ronnievittori]

hi guys, i’m karly but most people call me karl anymore. I’m so excited for this group to open and to get a chance to connect with everyone! Until then, here’s a little about Ronnie.

VERONICA VITTORI, THIRTY-ONE, VITTORI CAPO, AND MANAGER OF THE VITTORI (hotel)

Don’t ever call her Veronica. The only person allowed to call her Veronica and live to see the next day is her father.

She is currently co-capo with her twin brother Vincent. He is the muscle while she’s the brains. 

Was never really supposed to be part of the family business but forced her way into power against her father’s wishes

Never wanted to be part of the business either, but witnessed him hitting her mother and it snapped something inside of her. She wanted to burn his empire around him, but then she came up with the plan to steal the keys to the kingdom away from him totally. 

As of right now, her hands are clean. She has never killed or harms anyone, not that she’d have to with Vincent willing to get down and dirty. But that is not to be mistaken for weakness, she’s more than capable and willing to get blood on her hands. She’s simply strategizing. 

Is also the manager for the Vittori hotel and runs a tight ship

The love of her life is her dog Ranger.

Dont let the icy (very icy) exterior fool you, those who get to peak inside of her heart know she’s actually capable of deep and compassionate love. Even has a goofy side! Ronnie knows though to hide this down, to not let anyone find her weakness.

HERE ARE SOME WANTED CONNECTIONS!!!!

[kingrot]

☺☺☺

��� HI THERE FTW!

I am Cee, she/her, old asf, and I am here to bring you this total complexity of a Capo, aka Javier Suarez. Here are some bullet points, and also a pinterest board. You should 1000% message me here on my tumblr, or hit me up on discord so we can plot!  @ C.#8606. SOANYWAY. 

[tw: death. blood. knives.]

Javier is thirty-three years old, originally from Brooklyn, NY. Relocated to Vancouver sometime shortly before his brothers death in 2006.

Mateo was his twin brother, who was murdered, despite Javier doing everything in his power to stop it happening. He has never fully recovered from the loss of his twin. It’s had an exponential impact on his mental health.

His young niece/Mateo’s daughter, Alessia, was kidnapped and raised by the same people who had Mateo murdered. They’d subsequently used her life as leverage to keep Javier under their thumb. After a while, the matriarch of the family decided that Alessia was theirs to keep, and Javier was cut loose with no family and no purpose. 

... Enter a very specific skill set cultivated after years of taking care of business for this cartel. In 2011 he moved to Montreal, where he very quickly fell into step with The Vittori’s. 

It didn’t take them long to realize Javier’s affinity for torture, and murder. Put a knife in his hand and he could make anyone sing like a canary. He’s never had trouble with blood, or pain. Feels very little emotionally. Doesn’t have a whole lot left to care about.

'Teach them how', they said, 'and surely the world will be ours for the taking.'

[coppcrheads-blog]

hello everyone!!! i’m almost nearing app completion but i’m nyx, i’m a slut for angst and my discord is nyx#4576!!! i have quite a few wanted connections in mind and ideas i’d love to explore so definitely hmu x

AMARA GAUTHIER, THIRTY, COPPERHEAD REPRESENTATIVE. 

originally born in quebec city (a speaker of both french and english). father died whilst she was young and her mother remarried a high-ranking individual of the copperheads. her mother was incredibly astute and definitely existed as the cogs to the copperhead’s renowned accomplishments - without her influence, it’s likely their success as a drug cartel would have resulted in imprisonment and/or death by those who chose to cross them. 

amara followed in her mother’s footsteps and learnt the importance of thought before action. in her teenage years, she was often used to hand-deliver information to and from rival cartels. though they often ended in her best interest, there were times where a bodyguard was necessary - but, just as the copperhead snake, she would always strike first.

through lessons learned, not only can she command a room, she can talk her way out of anything and refuses to get her hands dirty. if someone else is capable of doing the job, then she’s clever enough to manipulate them into doing so. 

not only can she smooth talk her way through the most arduous of situations, her singing voice is akin to velvet. she’s a vocalist and pianist who is frequently booked for late evenings at pandora’s box.

she’s not cruel unless prompted but she is incredibly loyal to the copperheads (and slowly the vittoris).

poison would be her choice of weapon  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[evelyn-gagne]

moodboard → evelyn gagne, an overview

[goldfinchwritcs]

hey, y’all! for those of you who don’t know me-- i’m liv, a co-creator of for the wicked! and extremely excited to be launching this group with you all! 

introducing ; alex yuen // ivory syndicate capo // manager of the luxure

tw ; drugs, abuse, murder, suicide, violence

only child ; had a rough af chilhood with parents who really didn’t care about her, but more about drugs

her father, an abusive addict, killed her mother in a drunken rage one night and soon took his own life

she was put into foster care where she bounced around for three years bc girl has some serious rage and anger issues-- constantly getting into fights for no other reason than to do it

at sixteen, she ran away, determined to live on the streets

at seventeen, she tried to jack ivory boss, anthony king’s car, and was caught-- he took her in and mentored her, crafting her into the ruthless/brutal/unforgiving, but loyal capo she is today

pulls the trigger first, asks questions later -- 100% not someone to fuck with or cross, she will eat you alive.

she’s what she needs to be in the moment she needs it-- clever, cunning, seductive, diplomatic, the woman can read people quite easily and will manipulate them however she needs to

i haven’t plotted a single connection, so everything is up for grabs -- if you have something in mind, or even if you don’t, and want to plot feel free to IM me or add me on my discord ( livviexo#2720 )

[louis-bergeron-blog]

here’s a little intro to my new boy~

louis bergeron | 30 | emergency room doctor | ivory syndicate 

local sexy emergency room doctor, likes helping people

joined the ivory syndicate to find out who killed his older brother

always was second best to his brother, and never had a good relationship with him, so he’s doing it for his mother

heartbroken fool who doesn’t trust love anymore

mother was originally from france and moved to montreal to attend mcgill, where she met his father (montreal native)

[izabellagifs]

Emilia King Bio & WC

Hey everyone, here is just a look at the biography I had written for Emilia and some wanted connections to fill out. If you’re interested in plotting feel free to shoot me a message (:

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Ivory Syndicate

Trust My Blood: Someone that Emilia has known for ages, this person almost serves as a protector. They’ve lied to keep her safe from the King’s secrets, and Emilia has blind faith in every word they say. ( Zephyr Jackson ) 

You’re A Mystery: Why wasn’t she allowed near them? Emilia has been forbidden to speak with this person, but her curiosity may just get the best of her. (   ) 

You and I: An unlikely friendship, but one that Emilia considers to be her closet. This person is her rock and she is theirs, even if she doesn’t know all their secrets. (     )

The Vittori

Burn Me Alive:  They always seem to appear at strange times, like a shadow that’s just waiting to set her ablaze. She’s been too coy to approach these watching eyes, but just maybe one day she’ll ask why. (   )

Outsider

Just Next Door: Someone who is neighbours with Emilia, they haven’t interacted much but meet on the unlikely occurrence of getting locked out. ( Andre Bouchard ) & (    )

Blame It on the Alcohol: Maybe it was the gin and tonics that impaired judgment but an evening in Montreal resulted in being between sheets with a stranger (  Henri Phillipe ) & (    )

Looming Justice: As Emilia occasionally helps at the police office for an internship to cover her criminal forensics minor, this person seems to be asking a lot of questions that she doesn’t have many answers to (     )

BIOGRAPHY

New York was a place for dreamers, a city that glittered like a thousand fireflies at night and screamed of opportunity in the day. But under that beautiful facade was untamed darkness, one called King. The Ivory Syndicate was a force to be reckoned with. They had their hands in everything: local businesses, the cartels, the listening ears of your neighbours. As Marco and Milena dominated the city that never sleeps, the Kings welcomed home a new addition to their family. Emilia Celeste was born on a frigidly cold day in February but the tendrils of frost couldn’t overpower the warmth that filled that room. Their little girl was a healthy baby, wriggling about in a blanket when Marco King locked eyes with her. As he stared into her brown eyes an overwhelming sense of responsibility crossed over him. Marco glanced at the hospital doors, manned by two capo, at his jacket that held a concealed gun that had taken the lives of too many. How could he raise a child in that kind of world… how could he let his child know that kind of evil? It hit him almost immediately: he couldn’t. His wife seemed to understand that concern just the same and with a knowing nod, a pact grew in the silence between them. Emilia was to never learn about who the Kings were or what they did.

Though she was a King, Emilia’s life resembled that of a modern-day princess. Manhattan was her playground and any wish she could possibly have came true. Surrounded by a loving family, her childhood was a happy one. Family friends coddled her as though she was their own, her parents showered her with affection and joy. There was never a quiet moment in the house, with people coming and going at every moment. Emilia could turn any corner and find a smile, her big brown eyes and infectious laugh even making the angriest of capo grin. While her life was relatively carefree, Marco stressed certain rules. When business was occurring, Emilia was to be on another floor of their penthouse. There was no talk of violence, of raids or anything remotely associated with the Syndicate once she was in the room. Ignorant bliss. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

Emilia had the privilege of attending Birch Wathen Lenox school, one of the most expensive private schools in New York. It wasn’t until she stepped foot in Lenox that she started to understand the weight of her name. Eyes gawked at Emilia as though she was something out of a dream. She couldn’t help but notice the whispers, how her fellow students treated her like a ticking time bomb. Emilia could remember going home after a day of lessons, confused and upset. Her father had found her in the stairwell, wiping away a tear before giving her an explanation. They’re jealous of what we have… he said with confidence… our family is a very lucky family, and they're intimidated by who we are. Marco spun a tale of wealth to his daughter’s ears, all based on the right timing and entering the proper businesses. And Emilia, being the ever so trusting daughter, believed it all.

By the time she entered middle school, she’d ignored it all. Emilia threw herself into her studies and extracurriculars, after all, she was King. A member of one of the most prominent families in New York. To have such a name meant expectations were heavily placed on her shoulders. She’d begun to show promise in her academics and was quickly given a spot in the gifted program. Emilia joined a few clubs like Lacrosse and her drive eventually led her to steal the spot of captain. To the outside eye, Emilia King was perfect. Her personality was loved by her fellow students and teachers, she had talent in almost everything she touched. However, as she had won the favor of many, Emilia noticed one person who seemed repulsed by her. Giancarlo Palma. A boy. Who was the son of a family that her father claimed were no good, rivals who tried to ruin the King enterprises by dirty business shots.

While in class or in the lunchroom she could feel his eyes almost boring into her skin. One day, when feeling brave, she approached him. With an accusation, the conversation escalated to shouting match. Your family is full of murders. The words landed heavy on her head. What on earth was this boy talking about? Stunned into silence, Emilia was full of confusion and anger. How could Giancarlo claim such a thing, especially against her family? The Kings donated to charities, helped local businesses that otherwise would be failing and were generous… kind. They had a perfect track record. You don’t even know, do you? His tone was smug and for one of the first times in her life, the perfect Emilia King did something regretful. The punch she threw echoed throughout the cafeteria, shocking every bystander that was in the area. Almost immediately, Giancarlo pushed back. Bigger than Emilia, it didn’t take much for him to overpower her. By the time two staff member pulled them apart, Emilia had countless bruises and cuts, toting what looked to be the beginning of a black eye while Giancarlo stood with a broken nose, seething and venomous. We’re going to fucking kill you, might as well ask your father why before it happens. He was dragged off by a teacher.

To say that she was shellshocked was an underestimate. Emilia was immediately sent to the infirmary, where she was promptly greeted by her father and the principal. Thousands of questions rang about in her brain as she watched the two discuss her ‘out of character’ behavior. As her father pulled Principal Abbott into the hall,  Emilia couldn’t get Giancarlo’s last words out of her mind. We’re going to fucking kill you… might as well ask your father why… She’d never seen hate consume someone like that, scared that she believed what he may have said. The discussion didn’t last long between her father and the man, and a nervous Principal Abbott agreed to two detentions as a punishment before sauntering off to his office. All at once, everything spilled out of Emilia. She detailed exactly what happened to Marco, hoping to hear something that would quell her sudden worry and bewilderment at the exchange with Giancarlo. Yet another thing occurred that she didn’t expect. Her father’s reassuring voice and explanation didn’t fully convince her. Not after seeing Giancarlo’s face, his hostility, how he claimed to know something she didn’t.

A few weeks had passed by from the exchange when Emilia woke up to a bizarre news report. Giancarlo Palma was missing. A sick feeling in her stomach started to form. She couldn’t help but feeling an inkling of terror… had her family done something…? No. Emilia did her best to brush off the thought but it had implanted itself in the back of her mind. With rose-colored eyes, she attempted to move on from the incident. To be her normal self. But every once in a while, certain things began to look cloudy. How she wasn’t allowed to be even 100 feet within a business meeting.How a family friend had a mysterious blood stain on their sleeve that claimed to be a razor cut from shaving. At night, she followed the story surrounding Giancarlo on her phone, almost hiding her investigation from her parents.

Emilia’s suspicions didn’t end when she entered her senior year but other thoughts started to occupy her mind. College. Applications came and went, and although she had a small scuffle with Giancarlo, Emilia maintained the fact that she was a star student. Offers began arriving at the King doorstep, but one interested her family. McGill University, a school located in Montreal, had sent her a potential scholarship letter. When Milena heard about the opportunity, she was almost ecstatic though the school had never been one Emilia considered. Her sight had been set on Brown or Standford, maybe Princeton like her father. Emilia had always been easily influenced by her parents, and the push from her mother was undeniable. Looking through her offers, Emilia accepted a full ride to McGill University to study as an English major.

Emilia seemed to fit in at McGill, and the change of scenery was welcome. She enjoyed her classes, taking multiple cores to satisfy her general eds. While studying, she found herself falling in love with criminal forensics and promptly changed her major to the pre-law track while a sophomore. She’d almost forgotten all about Giancarlo Palma when one day her professor announced that they would be analyzing the Palma case… Emilia hadn’t even known that his body had been found. Tucked away in the Hudson River, it surfaced during her freshman year in a tangle of chains and bricks. Her professor lamented about suspected foul play that may have involved a dangerous rivalry between families. Once again, the shadow of doubt began to creep into Emilia’s head…

Later that month, Emilia received a call from her mother Milena: she was moving to Montreal. It was a sudden change, one that Emilia couldn’t quite find reason in. Her mother loved New York, and what business did they have in Canada other than their daughter studying there? The day Milena King arrived in Montreal, Emilia noticed that things were changing. Eyes started to stare at her differently, just like they had her entire childhood in New York. And strangers were taking an interest in her like that hadn’t before… something was happening and this time, Emilia King would not let it go.

[emiliaking-archived]

Ivory & Emilia + Locations: Milena’s Penthouse (1/?)

It’s gaudy, it screams wealth, it doesn’t quite feel like a home. Located in the richest neighbourhood in Montreal is the Ivory fortress. To normal eyes, it’s a display of architecture and design, but to those in the loop it’s a pretty facade for an ugly business.

[hectorkent-blog]

okay i finally did it! here’s hector’s wanted connection page. hmu if any of these strike your fancy!