crimemindcd

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warningshct​:

Marisol almost bounces out of her seat when a voice reaches her ears, which she ears before actually seeing the male. He’s attractive but not enough to let it distract her with the task ahead. “Good.” She says as she parted her lips to begin to tell him the rules, but he’s already shouting over her and towards the males. A gasp leaves her lips before she slams her hand upon his chest in order to get him to stop interfering. Mother fucking. She watches all unfold as some sort of fucked up masterpiece, knowing her money is going down the drain when the shorter man loses it. 

Her head shakes when he turns towards her and demands his money. Rising from her seated position, she knees on the stool so she’s the same height as the male, ensuring to get close enough that he can taste the liquor still soaked on her tongue. “That was cheating and I don’t pay cheaters.” She tells him with a pointed gaze. “We can bet on how quick it’ll take me to give you a punch because I’m thinking a few seconds flat.”

He lets out a small ‘oof’ at the impact, his hand coming to cover her smaller one on his chest, his laughter quickly following behind. The dark haired man was pretty sure he’d happily give up the wager just to see that look of shock on her face again, but he couldn’t let it go without messing with her a bit. “Whoa there,” he chides gently as the girl gets to her knees on the stool, seeming to have had more than her share of drinks already. He’s tempted to put a hand on her arm to steady her, but he’s pretty sure that would just have her making good on her second bet.

“Hey, it was a life lesson. Always set your terms first.” And watch out for other gamblers. While it was supposed to be a game of chance, any experienced gambler was happy to stack the odds in their favor and Gabe was nothing if not experienced. “Luckily I can be a very gracious winner. First round’s on me.”

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warningshct​:

@rennreblogs​

Location: any bar

Drinking had become some sort of numbing agent for the brunette. Somewhere along the way, she’d allowed herself to be submerged by the thrill of the chase. A next big win at a slot machine. It had become an addiction, much like alcohol had, that got her into this mess. All in an attempt to forget the crimes she’d been forced to do. Families who would go without closure because she couldn’t just walk away. She was drunk and it was evident by the way her lips curled that much higher, laughter that much louder. Just as she prepared to order another drink, she caught sight of two individuals in a disagreement. “Ohh! I’ll make a bet with you. Fifty bucks that the big guy is gonna throw the first punch.” 

Normally he wouldn’t involve himself in a petty scrap, but in all honesty, he was getting bored. He was supposed to be meeting a business connection at the bar and here he was, two drinks in and nothing to show for it, and seeing as how lateness was a particular pet peeve of him, he’d probably be telling them to shove their proposal up their ass if they ever did show up. So instead, he turns his attention to the girl a couple seats down from his proposing a wager. Now, that was right up his alley. “Yeah, I’ll take that bet,” he agrees, downing the rest of his drink before turning towards the two men arguing near the front door. “Hey, shorty! I heard he called you a limp dicked dumbass!”

The man looks at him in anger at the jab to his height before quickly turning his rage back to the other man, who just looked confused at Gabriel’s interjection. It didn’t take more than that momentary distraction for the smaller man to throw the first punch, hoping to get in a lucky shot. Gabe turns away from the commotion as other patrons rush to stop the altercation and flashes the dark haired girl a grin. “So, did you want to pay me in cash or food and drinks for the night?”

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kyxmoore​:

It was late when she got off work, but Kyler couldn’t sleep. It really wasn’t something she did anymore. When she did fall asleep, it was only after exhausting her body to the point where she passed out. But on nights when she didn’t sleep, Kyler usually did the one thing that she had started to do so she wouldn’t be alone. 

She called Gabe. 

Throwing her purse down on her table, Ky already had his number dialed and was listening to the tone as she stripped out of her scrubs and started the shower. “Hey, wanna come over and watch some homicide shows with me? I have ice cream.” 

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He takes a quick look at his phone screen as it vibrates and thinks about ignoring it. He’s working after all, but they’re almost finished loading the trucks and to pretend he’s not up at this hour wouldn’t fool Kyler, whose sleeping habits were almost as bad as his own. In the end, he gives a nod to one of the drivers and holds up a finger, stepping away to take the call, rolling his eyes at her greeting, though a small smile curves his mouth.

“Really? You don’t get enough of the blood and shit at work?” He glances back to where the last barrel is being loaded and gives in, knowing he’s just going to spend the rest of the night awake at his house anyway. “Fine. Give me twenty. Forty if you want some real food. And for the love of God, put on something funny.”

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open to all | @rennreblogs​

“If I wanted your advice, I’d ask for it. Until then, get me another god damn drink.” It’s not the bartender’s fault he’s in a foul mood, but right now standing between Gabe and his alcohol is not a good place to be and he has no time for the concerns of strangers. It’s the closest he’s ever gone to getting through this particular anniversary without some sort of rage induced breakdown, but in the end, despite trying to throw himself into his work, he’d ended up in the same place he always did, deep in his cups and full of self loathing.

He can feel his lip curl up into a sneer as he hears the chair next to him at the bar scrape across the floor to welcome it’s new occupant, more than ready to turn his anger on another target. “The seat was empty for a reason.”

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Gabriel likes to be in control and keep his mind sharp so it’s rare to see him very drunk. One exception to this rule seems to be every year on his father’s birthday. It brings up memories of how his father would dress them up and parade them out on the town to celebrate what a great father and husband he was. Meanwhile, his mother would have to apply make up to conceal the bruises the man had left on her and Gabe was instructed to spend the whole night in silence as to not ruin his father’s image.

Every year, Gabe locks himself away and drinks until he can forget the pain and anger and stop picturing the shock in his father’s eyes when he finally shot him.

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sacrvligious​:

location: her home, community center kitchen (she runs AA/self help groups), williams gathering place, etc.   /  @rennreblogs​

“ actually, you’d be surprised. i can cook and not burn things now. “ melodic laughter spills out from the little brunette as she turns toward the guest. “ cliche right, learning to cook in rehab? i mean, it’s better than learning in prison. “ she tilts her head in contemplation with a slight purse of her lips. she slips some of the food she made onto a few dishes and smiles at them. “ and lemme tell you, i’m pretty good now, if i do say so myself. i’m a mac and cheese over kraft dinner type of gal now. “ shayne laughs. she turns back around just to turn off the stove, then back to the other. was cooking a form of love language? because if so, this would be her’s. “ i may have over cooked, so i really hope you’re hungry. “

he wasn’t altogether that surprised. when shayne actually put her mind to something, she was good at achieving her goals. not that he would be telling her that. no, that would be far too close to a compliment for his liking. “hey, don’t knock prison skills,” gabe answered through a yawn as he settled himself at her kitchen counter. “some of the best weapons i ever had were made from melted toothbrushes.” a lie, obviously. the longest sentence the man had ever served was a year and the other prisoners had given him a wide berth. besides that, he was just good at not getting caught. surveying the dish she’d placed in front of him, he leans over to give it an exaggerated sniff, cocking an eyebrow at her. “you sure this isn’t just an elaborate plan to poison me after all these years?”

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[ FRANCOIS ARNAUD, 36, CIS MAN, HE/HIM ] Have you seen GABRIEL SILVARA down in St. Landry again? I heard they’re the ADVISOR, for the WILLIAMS now. They’ve been so VIOLENT AND SELF INDULGENT lately, it’s no wonder. I’ll sure miss when they were CLEVER AND LEVEL HEADED. I wonder if they’re going to stop listening to BURY ME FACE DOWN by GRANDSON now, or if THE FLASH OF A ROLEX, TATTOOS PEEKING OUT OF CLOTHING, AND THE COCKING OF A GUN will still announce ‘em

tw: child abuse, violence, murder

raised the only son of Francis Silvara, a low level errand boy for the Williams (so he’s always been at least crime family adjacent)

Gabe and his mother were both terrorized by his father’s wrath as Gabriel was growing up

grew up with very little money and most of it was spent on his father’s drinking

put his head down, studied hard, and put himself through college on scholarships

came back to St. Landry when his mother got sick in his twenties

got involved with the Williams family to help pay for his mother’s medical bills and saw it as a way to get back at his father, quickly rising above him in the ranks due to his clever mind and ruthlessness

bought his mother a home while leaving his father in his childhood home til his death

very even tempered but once you do set him off, he has a taste for violence and doesn’t forgive easily

killed his father

denies all knowledge or involvement in his father’s death, especially to his mother

likes to flaunt his wealth

doesn’t forget, doesn’t forgive

can probably drink you under the table

likes to gamble

potential connections:

business partner

a confidant

the person who helped him get rid of his father’s body

a casual fling who thinks things are getting serious between them

a fwb

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tag drop!

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