dansleary

[dansleary]

morgansolis​:

Morgan placed her sandwich at her side when she male started his story. While she anticipated that it would be bad if it had any involvement with a gang and drugs, she hadn’t exactly thought it would be as bad as what slipped past his lips. Sucking in a deep breath of hair, she pushed a strand back from her face and nodded. It wasn’t good and the look on her face said about that. One couldn’t serve a restraining order against a gang member. They’d most likely tear it apart and come after you harder once they found out that information had been shared with the police. 

“Legally,” she said with a shaky breath. “It depends what you’re looking for. If you’re afraid of getting hurt or going to prison.” The valencia were good as back up and would ensure that he was protected until it no longer served them. “For your own safety, I think you’re in the right place. The only other option that I could give you us by going to the police and being their informant but that may put a bigger target on your back with the Valencia as well. However, there’s a good chance you might walk away with a mere slap on the wrist if you can ensure you get adequate information.” Her shoulder rose and fell as she peered back at him. “Maybe learn a few classes of self-defence and stay low until they have bigger targets than you to deal with.”

--

Getting hurt didn’t matter to him, he could take a beating -- could defend himself if need be, but being chased after to get killed was a different story. And Daniel had been wanting to avoid jail as best he could; his paranoia around cops spoke for itself. He didn’t want a life he almost died for going to waste behind bars. He had a stable job, had to take care of his mother, had a girlfriend he loved with every fiber of his being -- there was no way he’d give all that up to serve time when he just felt he’d taken a wrong turn in life.

“The police?” Daniel laughed. She had a point, but there was no way in hell he’d ever go to the cops. Not only would that risk him going to jail, but that’d put a serious tear in Valencia’s trust in him. “I don’t think I can do that. Not unless I want two crime organizations after me, which is the last thing I need.” Sighing, he stood. “Anyway, I appreciate the advice. Sorry for bringing this all up so sudden. I’m Danny, by the way, weird way to meet but nice to meet you anyway.”

[dansleary]

morgansolis​:

Morgan pulled open her sandwich while she waited outside and took a bite. Peering down at her phone to answer a few questions in the meantime, the brunette only lifted her head when the door opened and Dan stepped out. Swallowing the contents of her food, she angled her body towards him. With a leg crossed over the other, she slid her phone into her pocket to ensure that he had her full attention.

His words made her stop eating altogether, mouth ajar when he went through the events. She wondered if he’d mistaken her for something other than a lawyer for a moment. It seemed that his involvement with these people was quite serious and they’d demand more than the money when they found him. “Well, are you asking me for legal advice because there’s only so much a piece of paper or restraining order can do.” It certainly wouldn’t stop a bullet from entering his body, or protect him from that should these people want his head. “I think the smartest thing would be to find proof.” She said with a shrug. “How was the money lost exactly and is there a way to get it back?”

--

To be honest, Daniel didn’t know what he was asking. Part of him wanted to know what options he had -- if any. He wanted to know if there was some sort of legal way to get these guys off his back, permanently, and part of him thought she’d say to go to the cops, which he’d thought of, of course, but the minute they find out he used to be one of Red Ridge’s biggest dealers, he couldn’t see a future without it involving prison bars. Valencia was helping him, of course, that’s why he had the job at Murphy’s, thanks to Serafin, but even then, he felt conflicted about the organization, not that he’d tell any of them, of course. Last thing he needed was two crime groups after him.

Her latter question struck a chord. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell her, he just...didn’t trust her. But what would she do with the information anyway? Go to this other group and tell them what they already know? “I, uh,” he cleared his throat, suddenly not hungry. “I was a drug addict, actually. A few months back. I got into an accident cause of this...group or gang, I don’t even know what they are but basically, I worked for this guy who made drugs in his basement. He had me sell homegrown oxy to people in the streets for a good percentage -- why he’d been telling her all this, he had no idea -- and this gang was one of the clients. Anyway, they bought more than a grand’s worth of drugs from this guy, and when I gave him the money, I found out the next day that he was discovered and got thrown in prison. So instead of being after him, these people are after me. I mean, I have Valencia backing me up and offering me protection. I just...feel that isn’t enough sometimes.”

[dansleary]

azulevangelista​:

–

It was a promise she couldn’t keep, no matter how desperately she tried.  She couldn’t just clean up her act, couldn’t stop the pulse her body was trembling to, couldn’t force her legs to accept rigidness in place of their gelatinous state.  So, she settled for following directions, leaning on him as they made their way to her bedroom.  As they passed her dresser, she reached out for a drawer; one she kept raggedy old t-shirts in that she only ever wore when she was sick or cleaning house.  There was something repulsive about the idea of putting on the same clothes that made up her carefully constructed persona; feeling the constricting fabric against her skin when she had only just been stripped so completely bare.  Even her pajamas were meant to prove a point.  

Azul didn’t so much as look inside the drawer before pulling one out, and nodding her head at him, letting him know that they could move forward.  And they did, clutching the giant holey t-shirt to her chest, she was sat on the edge of her bed seconds later, still wrapped in the towel.  The brunette didn’t quite have the energy to put the shirt on yet.  Instead, she eyed the man in front of her; the man who was soaking wet in front of her and still caring for her.  “Please don’t leave…” She pled softly, looking up at him with big brown eyes.  Soon, she’d be clothed and safe in bed, and he’d have every reason to go home to his own clean clothes and warm bed–but a selfish part of her didn’t want him to.  A small piece of her might have even clung to the t-shirt instead of putting it on because it was one step closer to being alone.  But was it even being alone that she was afraid of?  No it was being without him.  “You…you might have pajama pants in the bottom drawer…”  She scrambled pathetically.

--

Daniel watched her with caution, every tiny movement, every shift of her feet against the floor -- he watched her reach into the drawer, half conscious, wanting to make sure her legs didn’t give out from under her. He could feel the drops of water against his skin beneath his clothes, dripping cold, but all his attention had been on Azul and it wouldn’t rest until she was okay, at least as okay as she could get in the state she had been in. 

“I won’t,” he replied immediately, her pleas striking a particular chord in his chest -- a muscle, a nerve, he didn’t know, didn’t care, he just felt for her, his heart ached for her. He so badly wanted to make her feel better, wanted to make her forget it for at least the amount of time she needed to fall asleep, to finally rest. But part of him wanted to learn more, to know exactly what it was that made her have such an episode, but he knew that now wasn’t the time; triggering her again was the last thing she needed. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to,” he began, pulling off his dampened shirt that had stuck against his skin. He crouched, opening the bottom drawer and finding a pair of boxer shorts stuffed underneath a pile of clothes, standing before leaning over and placing a kiss against the top of her head. “I’ll be right back, gonna go dry myself off and change into this.” 

And so he did; making his way into the bathroom again, the puddle of water reminding him again of what had just happened. He undressed himself entirely, drying himself off with a few pats of a gray towel, pulling his shorts on soon after and making his way back into her bedroom. He sat next to her, his hand finding itself against the small of her back. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke, “You need anything?”

[dansleary]

azulevangelista​:

–

Something about his words–his touch, relaxed her, causing her to droop in his grasp despite the dissociation still being very present.  Azul felt far away, like she was watching two different scenes of two different times happen on two different screens–in such a way that she couldn’t quite pinpoint which one was real.  One instance, was something she had known for 10 years, something that paralleled her life with her resentful mother.  The other was a life she had only known for a few months, a life that knew love and intimacy beyond the bedroom; a life that seemed too good to be true.  The confusion kept her limp, eyes darting around everything but her own body as she tried to understand what was happening. 

As he lifted her, her eyes fell from his face to her body, the absence of blood suddenly clarifying which reality had been the present, the knowledge of that bringing a wave of exhaustion with it.  Her body had yet to stop trembling, the aftershock of fear still coursing through her body.  “I’m sorry…I’m sorry..” Azul’s voice came soft, weak as he wrapped himself around her, her form taking solace in his.  She didn’t even have the cognizance to be ashamed of how her form fell to his, needing his support in the basic act of standing, her legs wobbling like that of a newborn fawn.   “I’m so sorry…I’ll stop.”  Well she would when she could.

--

Truth was, he didn’t want her to stop. He wanted her to let go, to allow herself a single moment of grief -- to cry, scream, tremble, if she wanted to (needed to). He was tired of seeing her so guarded, so put on, as if her life had been a show and she had her lines, her positions, her cues, all in a neat row, ready for her to act. This, the Azul right in front of him, was what he wanted to see: messy and unpolished. 

He knew, and had known for a while, that there were things she had tucked away from her past -- and as curious as he was to know what they’d been, he didn’t ask any questions; instead, wanting her to approach him when she was ready, but he realized she probably wouldn’t ever had been ready, considering the place she found herself in just moments ago.

“Come on,” his voice came soft, gentle, not wanting to disturb even the tiniest amount of peace she’d been finding. “Let’s go into the bedroom, find you some pajamas and get you to bed.”

[dansleary]

morgansolis​:

Morgan folded her arms over her chest as she looked back at the male. She now placed him as a worker at the garage, having remembered the times she’d dropped her car over there for him to look over everything. 

Pausing a moment when he asked her to go outside, she looked him over and nodded her head. He was an affiliate of hers which she deemed meant that she wouldn’t be getting herself in too much trouble if she gave him some legal advice. Peering at the worker who called out her name, she grabbed the sandwich and tilted her head to signal that she’d wait outside for him. Moving out, she headed to the nearest bench and sat down there as she waited for him. Lifting her head when he came out, she shifted over to leave him some place to sit. “So what would you like to know?”

--

Dan watched her make her way out before turning to Roberto and ordering himself a hot pressed ham and cheese sandwich. He made his way around the convenience store for a few minutes, stopping to look at the cold beverages down one of the narrow aisles, then toying with a few plastic battery-operated fans near the register. ‘Order’s up, Danny,’ he heard Roberto’s voice, picking up the sandwich before heading out towards the woman.

He made his way to the bench, sitting a foot from her, unsure as to how to even ask the question without going into the ins and outs of the whole situation. Danny was a pretty private person, didn’t really trust many others, at least not after a good few months...but even then. “Okay, so,” he paused, wording the sentence in his mind before they left him, “let’s say someone is after you for money they think you stole from them, but, you didn’t,” he looked at her, “some other altercation happened with the police that made it so the money was...lost. How could you protect yourself from those people, who...basically want you dead?”

[dansleary]

status: closed for @dustlnds​ location: nat’s house / 6 p.m.

It was still a little weird -- their relationship, or whatever it could be called. Sometimes Dan found himself lost in pretend memories around what it was like being her friend as an addict -- pretend, cause he didn’t know what it was like, couldn’t remember. There was so much he just couldn’t remember. 90% of the shit he was fine with not recalling but that 10% that remained hidden, that had been all good memories, he missed terribly. And it was always so awkward -- ‘sorry, I was in a coma and I don’t remember you anymore’; the amount of times those words left him, the amount of heartbreak he saw in the eyes of people he once cared about -- people he once knew. His relationship with Natalie had been building again, little by little, spending time together trying to piece together a puzzle with missing parts. And as awkward as it got sometimes, he was trying and they were getting somewhere, regardless of the inside jokes that slipped past him, and all the things he no longer knew.

Knocking on the steel frame door of Nat’s garage, he leaned back a little, hearing Rhiannon from behind the large glass and metal garage doors, Stevie Nicks’ voice humming from behind the walls. Twisting the knob of the narrow door in front of him, he found that it was unlocked and he made his way in cautiously, bundles of flowers in his hand. “Nat? I got the aliums and nastur -- I don’t remember what they’re called. Nasturums, or whatever it is.” He paused, quick glances in multiple directions, “Nat??”

[dansleary]

morgansolis​:

Morgan peered over at him and then along the male’s arms as he placed them on display. Her nose wrinkled slightly, simply because her blazer was white and an oil stain would be a bitch to get out. “Ah, I must have seen you there.” Her head incanted into a tilt as if to say she remembered. All she knew was that there had been hot men at the shop, but faces had never been her strong suit. 

“I wouldn’t be shocked. I’ve missed a few oil changes and my car has become a piece of shit in result.” The brunette clipped. Smirking at his blunt question, her shoulders fell into a shrug. “I’ve represented an handful of Valencia, therefore you can say yes.” She said with a raise of her brow. “I’ve heard, yes. Unfortunately, if you’re looking for details, I’m not the best suited to provided those.”

--

A lawyer, he figured, watching her as she spoke, her body language, the way the words seemed to spill out of her in an almost automatic fashion. Then the words, I’ve represented a handful of Valencia -- there it was. “I see now,” he nodded, eyes trailing over to the back of Roberto’s head as he finished the woman’s burger.

“I wish you could,” he sighed, a small smile escaping the corner of his lips, glancing at her again. He wanted to know who it had been, who it was that caused his girlfriend’s trauma to resurface. He figured Valencia was taking care of it, but they paid hardly any attention to their members. It seemed like if their members weren’t dead, they were fine. “I’ve also represented a handful of them in the shop; they’re the ones that gave me the job.” He smirked, thinking suddenly about the accident, his coma. “Listen, you uh, you think we can go outside for a second once your food’s ready? I have a question about legalities and car accidents and stuff, if that’s cool?”

[dansleary]

azulevangelista​:

Scorching hot water found pathways over her soft skin, running rivers over the blood that took her back to a different time.  But, as time passed her visions of the past got louder and the blood seemed to be reappearing just as quickly as it was washed away, her heart rate raising as red took over.  “Fuck,” Azul whimpered as a memory stole the breath from her lungs, suddenly confused by her place on her shower floor compared to the floor of the home she’d shared with her ex husband after an episode.  

Neutral tile was no longer what was in front of her, instead, broken dishes scattered the floor, food she’d cooked unceremoniously flung across the floor, droplets of the same blood scattered amongst them.  Azul gripped at her chest, panic settling in her heart; she knew the setting well.  It plagued her nightmares for nearly a year after she left the home she’d lived in in Vegas with her ex. Well left put it lightly, she burnt the bitch down and ran.  But if that was true then how was she felt the horror of him standing over her, the horror of blood running down her legs, the horror of not knowing what to do after she’d dug the steak knife into him as many times as it took for him to stop moving; how could she feel the sharp pain in her abdomen signaling the loss of a child?  Her breathing was labored as she shivered despite the raw redness the water was leaving in its wake, reminiscent of the flames that licked her belongings all those years ago.  She didn’t even hear Dan come in, didn’t see him open the shower curtain, couldn’t recognize him as he loomed over her en route to kneel in front of her.  A name slipped her lips that hadn’t in over three years, one she would later be ashamed to have uttered in Dan’s presence. “Josh.” The much larger presence made her cower into the wall of the shower, instinctively flinching as he reached out for her face, only softening once she felt him.    “The baby..” She ghosted, words as fragile as her focus. 

Her head bobbled as she tried to focus in on him, brows furrowing as she tried to understand how he’d entered a setting she hadn’t wanted him anywhere near.  How had the world found collision?  Despite her attempts, she just couldn’t get her eyes to land on him, and even when they did she seemed to be looking right past him.   “I can’t get rid of the blood..” Her voice cracked as she spoke in the smallest voice she’d ever used with him.  

--

She looked so small. Shattered. Like a sheet of glass with stones layered on top of it, one after the other, eventually breaking under all the pressure. This was the first time he had seen her this way, the first time that all her scars -- scars he noticed in the past but just never brought up -- were laid out like bright red paint on a blank canvas. Words fell out of her and they confused him. Josh? The baby? He drew his hand back when she flinched, a sudden, sharp pang in his chest -- one of hurt, of heartache, but concern most of all. She couldn’t see him.

“The blood’s going, babe,” he said quietly, desperately, both his hands cupping her face. He didn’t know what was going through her head, didn’t know what she was experiencing but he could recognize the anguish, the trauma -- there was something familiar about it. Maybe not exactly, not whatever it was that she went through in the past (his curiosity peaking then), but he could see the fear in her face the way he saw it in his mother’s when she’d been with Justin. He recognized the abuse at the hands of another. Gulping, he did the only thing he could do.

Standing, he turned the cold water knob to the right, cooling the temperature some before taking hold of the shower sponge, squeezing a bit of soap against it’s surface before washing her as best he could -- slowly, gently, not wanting to frighten her more than she already was. And when he finished, he used the shower head to rinse her off, stepping out and grabbing a towel to wrap her in it and helping her to stand. When she had finally stepped out, he carefully made his way forward, wrapping his soaked body around her, “you’re okay now, you’re okay.”

[dansleary]

morgansolis​:

Morgan had assumed that her blunt and perhaps a little aggressive question would only work out in her way. Either people were too afraid to say no or they’d be taken off guard enough that the word would just tumble out of their mouth before they even noticed. “Thanks, babe.” The brunette purred as she slid in front of him.

Watching the elderly man order, she smiled kindly at him before stepping up and placing her own order. Leaning forward, she handed over the cash before stepping to the side. Lithe fingers reached into her back pocket to grasp for her phone when his voice rang out, pulling her attention towards him. “I do,” she asked him with a furrow of her brow. Dark hues trailed over his features as they peaked her interest, knowing for certainty she’d seen him around. Her first assumption was his affiliation with the Valencia. “I’m guessing you go there often as well?” Perhaps he worked there. Looking him over, she decided that it would make the most sense.

--

Danny watched as Roberto got to her order, throwing the patty on the hot griddle before returning to the register to ring up another person in line who’d been holding a box of macaroni and cheese and margarine. His eyes fell onto the woman again before answering, “I work there, yeah. I’m a mechanic,” he lifted an arm as if to bring her attention to his bruised forearms and face full of engine oil. Not that she hadn’t noticed, he could see it in her expression.

“I’ve probably fixed your car or something,” his voice was quieter, bringing his arms to his chest before stepping a bit closer to her. “Are you part of Valencia? Pretty sure I saw you there last week talking to one of the members. You know anything about the warehouse shooting that happened?”

[dansleary]

morgansolis​:

Morgan stepped foot into the small dinner and peered up at the menu. She had some time off of work and could use some food. Her presence was given away by the click of heels as she smoothed down the front of her blouse and pencil skirt. The Valencia had been keeping her busy with the fact that they constantly liked to piss off the police officers enough to have some kind of vendetta form. Hence why the police brought them in for any little fucking thing just to piss them off. Unfortunately, all it did was piss off Morgan who was on the verge of going on a rampage. 

“Well, if you’re letting people pass — can I go in front of you as well?” she asked the male, winking at the elderly man who she would leave in front of her of course. But she’d try anything to get through this line a little quicker. “No worries if you don’t want to.” Her shoulder rose and fell, hoping to play on his guilt a little bit.

“I’m just in a bit of a rush, but you don’t really seem like you are — that’s all.” Her hand rose and fell to signal that she wouldn’t guilt him any longer, moving back to her position behind him.

Maybe she didn’t notice, but he wanted to give her temerity the benefit of the doubt and pin it as honesty -- something hard to come by these days, especially in Red Ridge where feds and journalists were asking questions left and right and the only thing people (Daniel, really) wanted was to be left alone. Lies in this town were bound to slip with it’s current climate -- her honesty was refreshing, to say the least.

“Uh, yeah, sure?” It caught him slightly off guard. He took a step back towards the narrow aisle that sold a variety of potato chips, Ho-hos and Twinkies, hearing Roberto say a few things in Spanish to the man he had been ringing up before taking the woman’s order. For some reason, she looked familiar and after he thought more about it, a sudden image came to mind of her at Phoenix, speaking with one of Valencia’s members. He wanted to wait until she was done ordering, too uncomfortable to bring up the organization out loud. Everyone knew about Valencia, knew they basically ran and owned Red Ridge but it was a truth that ruffled a few feathers. “I’m just curious -- do you come around Murphy’s a lot? The auto shop down the street?”

[dansleary]

status: open for anyone @redridgestart​ location: roberto’s / 2 p.m. 

The early time off was sorely needed. Dan had only just found out that a criminal organization basically wanted his head. He had sold them drugs a few months ago, only to have his employer (the one who made the drugs) be thrown in jail after they had handed him the money. The past eight years of his life were gone -- amnesia having set in, erasing all the bad bits, the addiction, the guilt, the darkness -- and if Serafin hadn’t told him about what had happened, Daniel would’ve never worked for Valencia as pay for his protection, which, in some way, he had no issue in doing because if he were being completely honest -- he’d probably already be dead.

There were a few people in Roberto’s that afternoon, two of them by the refrigerated drinks at the end of the store, tourists, it looked like, something he’d never come to understand. Tourists here. He could understand seeing them in the north side, but south side Red Ridge? It was a shit hole, a dump; why would anyone want to come to Roberto’s for a fucking soda? ‘You gonna order something, Danny?’ His thoughts cut short, Daniel looked up at Roberto, the man himself -- an 85 year old (still sprightly) ex-crooner. “Yeah,” he glanced back at the person standing behind him who’d been holding a few things, “I’m ordering a sandwich actually, you can go first.”

[dansleary]

status: closed for @azulevangelista​ location: azul’s house / 7 p.m.

Seeing Azul covered head to toe in blood after what had happened at the warehouse had been enough to convince him her allegiance with Valencia had gone too far. He wanted to talk to her about it, but it was the last thing he wanted to bring up after the trauma she’d gone through. A few minutes after Danny had handed Azul one of the cupcakes she’d baked earlier, he watched from the kitchen as she nibbled barely a quarter of it, lifting herself from the couch, her body language saying more to him than she probably realized. 

He watched as she made her way into the bathroom, tossing out the cupcake wrapper that was left when he finished his last bite, tossing out the rest of hers too, then he grabbed himself a glass of water and sat in front of the television, channel surfing his way to a documentary on oceanic creatures and ecology -- not that he was paying any attention, all he could think about was Azul, repeating the same actions over again as he waited for her to come out; scrolling Instagram for two seconds, then Facebook, then glancing over at the bathroom door, then watching the TV for a few minutes and doing it all over again.

After thirty, long, minutes had gone by, Dan stood and quietly made his way to the bathroom door, leaning in just slightly to hear if the shower head had been turned off -- but it wasn’t, oddly enough, her showers normally lasting no more than twenty minutes. “Babe,” he called out gently from behind the door, knocking twice. “You almost done?” -- a beat, then another and another -- “Azul?? Open up, come on, you never take showers this long.” He heard nothing but his heart rate rising. Turning the knob, he opened the door slowly, almost scared about what he’d see on the other side but she was sat there, aghast and huddled in the corner of the shower, broken and terrified, Dan’s heart sinking at the sight in a way he hadn’t felt before. “Fuck,” he sighed, removing his shoes quickly before rushing over, not a care in the world that his clothes were soaked or that the water was scalding (a wince leaving him when he felt the temperature) as he stepped in and crouched in front of her, a hand reaching over to cup the side of her face. “Azul, sweetie, what’s going on? You gotta come back to me, what’s wrong?”

[dansleary]

intro: daniel leary

[v here again with daniel -- i’m open for any and all plots basically and i live hard for angst so come at me 👀]

Name: Daniel Eamon Leary Nickname: Danny, Dan, Danny-boy Hometown: Worcester, MA, USA Current Location: Red Ridge, NV, USA Birthday + Age: November 4th, 1987 / 33 yrs. of age Zodiac Sign: Scorpio Gender: Cismale Pronouns: He/him Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual/romantic Occupation: Mechanic at Murphy’s Auto Length of stay in Red Ridge: 25 years Alignment: Chaotic Neutral MBTI: ISFP Personality: [+] Modest, easy-going, observant, adaptable, calm, caring, non-judgemental, considerate [-] Anxious, self-destructive, secretive, picky, aloof, resentful, reserved, foolhardy, jealous

BIO + POTENTIAL CONNECTIONS:

Read Daniel’s bio here.

Just throwing down some general connection ideas but we can take this as far as we’d like to (or not!) when we plot. I’m also totally open for anything else!

co-worker from murphy’s auto (fellow mechanic, receptionist etc.)

people involved with valencia who know danny in passing

friends danny’s had from his drug addiction days that he no longer remembers (oops)

old friends from before his addiction/amnesia that he hasn’t seen in a while

people who know his dad/dad’s family in ireland?? idek 

apartment neighbor

first love/ex

people he’s had one night stands with as an addict who he doesn’t remember and it’s Awkward

addicts who wanna sabotage him?? for some reason??

[dansleary]

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[dansleary]