#openmics

[doublewarhol]

Worth watching

Art

Is a special space.

Express anything, so long as it

Is art. Make it beautiful, make it amusing,

Make it pleasant.

Then you can say what you want to say.

Otherwise, don’t get up there.

And if you have nothing to say, and it’s

Pretty, we don’t want to hear that either.

[northernmusic]

Open Mic Sanctuary Maynard MA Special Host Every Monday 6:00-9:30 PM

1-06-25 ~ JAE MANNION https://www.facebook.com/jae.mannion https://www.facebook.com/events/906093685036898/906106268368973

1-13-25 ~ ALAN GOODRICH https://www.facebook.com/alan.goodrich.79 https://www.facebook.com/events/906093685036898/906106271702306

1-20-25 ~ JACQUELINE BURNS https://www.facebook.com/jacquelineburnsmusicofficial https://www.facebook.com/events/906093685036898/906106265035640

1-27-25 ~ MILT REDER & DAVE BECKER https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100069304844706 https://www.facebook.com/events/906093685036898/906106275035639

Sanctuary - Cultural Arts Center (in their Back Bar & Lounge) 82 Main St, Maynard, MA 01754 Phone: 978-298-5237 https://www.sanctuarymaynard.com

$10 Cover Charge Includes One Drink Ticket (Beer/Wine)

Promotion by Northern Music northernmusic@yahoo.com https://www.facebook.com/MusicInNewEnglandhttps://www.facebook.com/groups/OpenMicsInNewEngland https://www.facebook.com/groups/NewEnglandMusicNetwork

#OpenMic #Open #Mic #live #music #folk #rock #blues #country #acoustic #show #Sanctuary #Cultural #Arts #Center #Maynard #Massachusetts #NewEnglandMusic

[chwrpg]

EDWIN "TEDDY" LAFUENTE. rock star; twenty-one. xolo maridueña. OPEN.

and, as ted logan once said: “All we are is dust in the wind, dude.” 

BEFORE THE PARTY

Edwin LaFuente— more commonly known by the nickname given to him by his legion of fans, Teddy might not be the brightest light bulb in the tool shed. No, that wasn't leading to a but. He's not exactly academically gifted and he'd be the first to let you know, although there's a variety of other things Teddy did very well. For one, his knack to perfectly assess someone's zodiac sign, it was almost freaky how well he could take one look at someone and know exactly what their sign was. His ability to never have a bad hair day. There wasn't a day those perfectly perfect curls on his head weren't perfect. And the worst part, he didn't even try. Not to mention, he'd been a star soccer player for a spell during his tenure at the famed Rosewood Academy, in fact that's what had allowed him to attend the school. Not that he stuck to it given that his true love had been one thing and one thing only. Music. Sure, his abilities on the field had been his golden ticket but music had been what fed his soul. For as long as he could remember ( a shocker he'd retained these moment given memory wasn't a thing Teddy was known for ) Teddy had a knack for music. A talent that his mother and father had stood divided on. See, his father believed in nurturing his god given talent whilst his mother didn't want her son to end up a lowly busker, singing his shoulda, woulda, coulda's for some spare change. She wanted him to thrive, to have a better life than the one she and her husband had. So she pushed for him to excel at things that would get him further ahead, academics and athletics but Teddy rejected these things at every pass— his father taking note of this pushback and instead fed his love for music. He'd get his son the latest Weezer record as he enjoyed the whimsy of their lyrics. He took Teddy to guitar lessons, as an incentive to get his son to try to placate his mother and it'd definitely worked. But he wasn't cut out for the Troy Bolton life. So as soon as he could, he devoted his entire life to the one thing he loved. Music. His passion soon translated to success, as he'd caught the attention of his classmate and fellow music aficionado— Benny Peleke. And the rest was as they say, history. The two couldn't be more different on paper; Benny having came from an affluent background, Teddy having not. Benny actually cared about his grades, whilst Teddy only cared because he didn't want to hear it from his mama. Benny had charm and charisma in droves, Teddy still got tongue tied at the mere thought of asking someone for their number. But what did they have in common? Their love for music. With Benny's knowledge in marketing and social media combined with Ted's talent, the two knew they had something. Benny then suggested that his main squeeze, Penny Lane sing vocals on their tracks. When the three came together, it'd been lightening in a bottle. Their name, their music instantly becoming inescapable. Soon, in came the accolades, the fame and by his side, his best friend. The person who'd made all of his dreams become a reality. He'd been able to do what he loved for a boat load of money, whilst making both of his parents proud of him. All was righteous in his world. Well... that was until Penny Lane had decided she was better off a solo act.

DURING THE PARTY

What was going to become of Benny and him? Like yeah, they would probably continue as a duo, and he wouldn't complain about that because he'd get to keep rocking out with his best bud... but it wasn't like neither one of them were lyricists. All those words, that was all Penny Lane's doing. He couldn't even begin to fathom how to put together a song. As Teddy continued to think about how different things were about to be for Benny and himself, he felt his mood start to mellow and that was the last thing he needed. No, what Benny and him needed was a good ol' night out. Something to simulate the mind, maybe that'll get words flowing out of the two of them. And luckily, they were back home in Rosewood, where every night was essentially a party. So he went about picking up their pre-party essentials, in hopes of getting Benny out of the funk he'd found himself post break up. Which he totally got, his main guy had just gotten his heart broken into a gazillion little pieces— but between us, Teddy had always thought Benny was way too good for Penny Lane, so he was going to do everything in his power to lift him back up. As he'd stepped out of the local supermarket, munchies in hand– he found himself blinded by a stray piece of paper. He reached up to remove it from his face, ready to toss it in the trash ( Teddy was strictly anti-litter) but curiosity got the best of him and he decided to read what was on it. That decision being one that Teddy would always be grateful for as the piece of paper was a flyer, one that was seeking band mates. A certain, Cliff Saito was looking to put together a band and well, Benny and himself were out a band member so perhaps... they were exactly what each other needed.

alternate faceclaims and prompts.

[mobscene-launceston]

BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: Paul Romano.   AGE: 63. PLACE OF BIRTH: Launceston, Massachusetts, United States. AFFILIATION: The Sovrani. OCCUPATION: Underboss. FACE CLAIM: Giancarlo Esposito. AVAILABILITY: OPEN.

(Warning: Mentions/themes of racism.)

“They’re never going to treat you the same, son.”

The words of his father were undoubtedly meant as a deterrent from trying.

As was so often the case with Paul Romano, however, being told that he couldn’t do something only made him more adamant to prove to himself that he could.

It was hypocritical of his father to discourage him from seeking Sovrani membership when his own position within the organisation was the reason he’d come to Launceston in the first place. Giovanni had served them back home in Rome, and had only made the transition to the States when he’d been summoned by the Auditores personally.

Paul always knew that even if he did make the cut, he had a hell of a man to live up to.

Growing up in Valence had proven to him that his father’s concerns weren’t entirely unwarranted, though. In spite of Giovanni’s reputation, he had been berated by many outside of the organisation for marrying an African-American woman. The way they’d treated his mother, Dorothy, was even worse. Even if he’d been too young to understand why back then, he understood that it just was, and Paul sure remembered wiping her tears when she returned from grocery shopping; once again victim to a racist tirade from strangers. The Sovrani weren’t perfect by any means, and there were still plenty of pieces of shit who had something to say about the person his father had fallen in love with, but for the most part, they were better than Valencian average. Not that it was saying much.

Maybe the idea that he’d have to work harder to prove himself just because of the colour of his skin should’ve been enough for him to seek out another life entirely. As a teen, coming to terms with the world he lived in, a part of him had almost been swayed away by the thought. But he remembered so clearly that night when everything changed. It was Bartolomeo himself who’d defended Paul’s mother from a Capo who had a few choice words to describe her, never to be repeated again. It could’ve been a slap on the wrist if the man had cared less. Instead, the future leader had broken legs that day. Used the power of his last name to strip the scum of his membership entirely. Paul never forgot how he’d walked the then teenager and his mother home, making sure they were all right before he left again.

And Paul never forgot that even though it was the kind of thing any decent human should’ve done, to stand up to a Capo in their world for a woman he hardly knew was not the easy choice.

It was hard not to respect the fact he’d made it anyway.

When Bartolomeo became the leader of the Sovrani, Paul had just entered his early twenties. Up until that point, his connections with the gang had been casual at best; mostly a result of his father’s involvement. The two older men had grown close over the years—the leader respected Giovanni more than almost all others—and as such, their family had attained a status where they’d always be looked after. Paul also knew that if he ever wanted to pursue joining the Sovrani seriously, all he would have to do was ask…and so he did.

Bartolomeo was the kind of man deserving of his respect.

Paul would spend the entirety of his service to him learning new reasons why.

The respect was always returned, and that was important to him. But as much as the leader respected him, he also made it abundantly clear that he trusted him, and that was solidified when Lucrezia Auditore returned from Rome, and entered his life in an absolute whirlwind.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she’d scoffed, and her father had chuckled.

“Noted,” Paul had replied, with absolutely no intention of becoming one.

The newly minted Capo, aged forty-three, was one of the last to be appointed by Bartolomeo during his tenure. But the honour almost paled in comparison to being trusted to watch over his youngest daughter. Back then, they had clashed—albeit mostly one-sidedly, from the impossibly headstrong woman—and she sure hadn’t made teaching her how things ran in Launceston easy. Other things, though? Lucrezia made those come naturally.

Paul had fought against his feelings with all he had. Their very first argument (and back then, they had been many) he was sure he’d fallen in love with her right on the fucking spot. For a man who had often been on the receiving end of ‘why haven’t you settled down yet?’ comments from his colleagues, it was a bitter pill to swallow to know that the moment he could finally imagine himself with somebody, they were entirely out of his reach. Even if she hadn’t been married, if she hadn’t been the boss’s daughter, his father’s words still echoed. The Sovrani had accepted him, but he still wasn’t sure if they would’ve ever accepted that.  

In spite of it all, he was a professional; a master at compartmentalisation, and his feelings, to keep hold of a friendship that meant so much to him, were no different. Long had he been revered by his peers for his strength, his self-assuredness without arrogance, his level-head and his diplomacy. Paul was a credit to the Sovrani, and lifted by Bartolomeo as an example of all they could, and what they should, be. This might’ve stirred discontent amongst some of the aging conservative members, but they would die out eventually. Paul was honoured to be a herald of the change; a gateway experience for many other prospective members from a similar background.

He did so serving dutifully at her side.

Lucrezia was his best friend. He, her most trusted advisor. Together, they were formidable.

The Auditore introduced him to the woman who would eventually become his wife. Her husband, Antonio, would become one of his closest friends as the years passed them by. Soon, Alessia ascended to the throne, but as leader, much like her father, she too had entrusted a great deal to him. With only a few exceptions, aside from the Auditores and Vespuccis themselves, Paul was one of the most powerful members in the entire organisation, and he supposed, in a sense, his father had been right. They didn’t treat him the same. They treated him better.

For the majority of Alessia’s leadership, Lucrezia spent her time in Rome. It was a big shift for him, and he realised in missing her, that he hadn’t buried his feelings as well as he’d thought. Launceston had always been home for him, even if not for her, but he couldn’t help but feel it was a little emptier without her in it. That made it all the more unfortunate to be grateful for her return. He felt guilty for the happiness, the relief. Of course he wanted her back—he did every time she was gone—but not at the expense of Alessia’s life.

The sisters had always been close, in spite of the distance. Paul might’ve been Lucrezia’s confidant, one of the very few she would allow herself to be vulnerable around, but even he was at a loss at how to guide her through the pain. Not only was the Auditore family reeling, the Sovrani was also grieving the loss of arguably its most important and beloved leader to date. Paul found himself divide between trying to help the woman he loved, and desperately holding together the Launceston arm of the gang as the Russians began to wage an all-out assault on their existence.

But Lucrezia was strong. Perhaps more so than anybody ever gave her credit for.

Bartolomeo returned to leadership in the wake of Alessia’s death, but he knew that his daughter would be ready to step up to the plate eventually.

“I want you to be there at her side, Paul.”

“That’ll be her decision, not ours.”

But throughout the hushed conversations, Bartolomeo knew she wouldn’t choose anybody else.

When Lucrezia approached him, shortly ahead of her initiation as the Sovrani’s new leader, she had done so with a look in her eyes that wasn’t familiar to him. Not from her. Paul had witnessed leaders in the city tear themselves apart trying to avenge their losses, and with the status she was about to obtain, she would have the means to become one of them. Much like Bartolomeo had anticipated, she wanted Paul to become her underboss. And much like Bartolomeo had anticipated, he hadn’t hesitated to accept. Not only would she need somebody she trusted at her side, she would need the only person that had the ability to talk her down from doing something stupid.

The only person who had the ability to tell her no, and be heard.

Whilst his mother might’ve been opposed to this life for him in the beginning, Paul knows that both of his parents are looking down on him, immensely proud of all he has achieved.

And he’s not going to start disappointing them by fucking up now.  

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Angela Romano (wife) FAMILY: Giovanni and Dorothy Romano (parents, deceased), Giovanni Romano (son, unplayable), Anna, Lucia Romano (daughters, unplayable) CONNECTIONS:

Allegra Vespucci: Old friend. With the exception of Lucrezia, Allegra is without a doubt his dearest friend. Many find her attitude to be abrasive, and perhaps he's just learnt how to deal with it better, but they always got along like a house on fire. Her move to London was unfortunate, but it's not as though their friendship hasn't survived worse. Paul made sure to let her know she better plan on coming home to visit, because he has no intention of setting foot in London.

Antonio D'Agostino: Good friend. Conventional wisdom might have one assuming the two would never see eye-to-eye, but it simply isn't the case. Paul isn't jealous of his marriage, not as long as he makes Lucrezia happy, and he would never try to paint the man a villain to justify anything else. Their two families are close, their children are friends, and the man has become as much a staple in his life as Lucrezia. There are few he trusts more. Genuinely.

Joey Sambuco: Friend. Much as he was for the others, during the aftermath of Alessia's death, in spite of his own grief, Paul was a shoulder for Joey. The man's feelings for her were practically common knowledge, and he supposed he could relate to that. Whilst they weren't particularly close beforehand, they certainly bonded during this time, and Paul is glad to call him a friend; particularly as they now work side-by-side in their respective positions within the Sovrani.

Simona Infascelli: Good friend. Though she is the polar opposite of him in almost every way (most notably, about as hot-headed as they come) the two have always balanced each other out nicely. Paul was responsible for pushing for her to be made Capo by Alessia, and it was because she deserved it. So far as the Russians are concerned, Paul can't help but worry when his people have to face them. But not Simona. Never her. There, it's the Russians who should worry.

[hanzi83]

Episode 544-Inflatable Couch Plop at Open Mic

ew Podcast-Recorded between Dec07-09th-Episode 544-Inflatable Couch Plop at Open Mic- Talking about Ralph Cirella, Open mic, forced GTA discourse w culture wars, Palestine/Israel, wrestling, very brief recaps of #AEWDynamite #WWENXT #WWERaw

[leffery]

If any body is in the DMV on Thursday I'm hosting an open mic

[rchqs]

Welcome to 𝐑𝐈𝐏-𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 better known as the tri-city! This is a multi-muse and multi-city writing group which highlights the diverse tapestry of urban life, the intertwining narratives of those within the streets, professional athletes, and individuals in the entertainment business converge to depict the multifaceted realities, struggles, and aspirations within these distinct yet interconnected worlds. Here is where you can find everything pertaining to the roleplay, this group resembles much like #ImpactATL and #ImpactNY. If you have any questions please don't hesitate to contact the admin team. We are now accepting reservations!

📍 ADMIN STATUS: ONLINE. ✰ IDLE. ✰ OFFLINE.

𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌. / 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄. + 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒. / 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍. / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒.

𝐑𝐄��𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: 3:1

Jay Critch & Saweetie. / Sun. Mar 24th @ 4:30 PM CST.

Dreamdoll. / Sun. Mar 24th @ 4:30 PM CST.

Chloe Bailey. / Sun. Mar 24th @ 4:30 PM CST.

𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1:1

Ariana Fletcher & Ja'Marr Chase.

Other Pages: TRI-CITY GOSSIP / RECORD KEEPER.

[smellenoftroy]

At the Open mic night again

There is an odd appeal to seeing musicians tune their instruments.

these dudes have been trying to tune their violin to their guitar for 7 minutes.

An odd little symphony

[acidsmooth]

Eccentric Comedy presents Charles Allen featuring Josh Ars! Hosted by J. Austin Graham!

April 26! 8pm!

Open-mic hosted by Jason Cave.

Only at Cotton Flat Records in Midland! Eccentric Comedy is always last Saturday of the month. Sponsored by Cult Combat.

#EccentricComedy#JAustinGraham#CharlesAllen#JoshArs#openmic#openmiccomedy#standupcomedy#midland#odessa#permianbasin#comedy#cottonflatrecords#recordstore

[nagoyacomedytalkfunny]

Comedians Mark Bailey and Mike Miller talk funny about great female comics, the Tom Brady roast, a callback to heroin, misheard lyrics, did teenage Mark have a problem with authority, Brinks truck robbery advice, undercover billionaire shows, at point 11:07 in you can hear the noisy restaurant owner from previous podcasts in the background, and language pet peeves. Brought to you by Nagoyaradio.com, Nagoyacomedy.com, and stand up comic Mark Bailey.

[officialnickkie]

Music Video: Makhadzi Entertainment - Bafana feat. Ba Bethe Gashoazen

Makhadzi Entertainment and Ba Bethe Gashoazen reunite once again for their latest hit single, Bafana. Infused with captivating rhythms and a blend of cultural richness, the song draws inspiration from the Tshivenda, Sepedi, and Setswana languages, with “Bafana” meaning “Boys.” Following the success of their collaboration on Makhadzi Entertainment’s debut album and the release of their earlier…

[samyakcomputersclasses]

🎉 Happy Independence Day! 🎉

Join us for the "Samyak Event" with the theme AAJAD PARINDEY! 🌟 Step into the spotlight and showcase your talent—music, poetry, comedy, storytelling, and more.

📩 DM @samyak.events on Instagram to register!

📞 Call us at 9.105.106.105 for details.

Powered by Samyak Computer Classes.

[wisteriashq]

There’s something soft in me—

The Heartthrob is a charming handsome young man who attracts the attention of all females and inspiring jealousy in all males wherever he goes. He is muscular with a perfect smile and friendly disposition that makes people right away fall for him. He is the newcomer to the town who is employed with landscaping and maintenance and soon rises in popularity because of his niceness and attractiveness. 

Although he may portray himself as unshakable and confident, he has a complex and a rather cloistered private life. He caught feelings for the one person he can't have; The Head-Turning Beauty. She's the gorgeous and glamorous wife of his wealthy employer. Which only makes the whole thing hotter.

There is evidence that he has genuine affection for her, but the passion of their sexual tryst is coupled with the fear of the consequences of such relations. The Head-Turning Beauty’s husband is a wealthy and successful businessman with whom he has had no direct contact; however, the latter understands that should the information about the affair become public, it would deal a severe blow to the man and hurt everyone involved. 

We killed it; it's rotting

The Heartthrob resides in a small apartment on the outskirts of the town to avoid being a spectacle while he struggles to come to terms with his new reality. This sometimes becomes his comfort more often than not, when he is enshrouded with deep emotions, he lets his hands be busy with the manual as well as creative work of changing gardens and homes. However, any encounter with The Head-Turning Beauty makes him shift focus into more adult matters. 

Nevertheless, he cannot resist the passion which is pulling him like a magnet to the former model, and their moments spent together become the only thing that makes him genuinely happy. However, he is constantly living in the shadow of being discovered and ethical dilemmas bother him, although he seems to be a calm and collected person. Professionally and personally the conflicts rise with the stakes, which makes him struggle with the issues of love, betrayal and choice of his own life path.

The Heartthrob is portrayed by FC UTP and currently OPEN for applications. He will be written by MUN NAME.

[mobscene-launceston]

BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: Jay Sung. AGE: 43. PLACE OF BIRTH: Launceston, Massachusetts, United States. AFFILIATION: The Emerson Saints. OCCUPATION: Leader FACE CLAIM: Gong Yoo. AVAILABILITY: OPEN.

(Warning: Brief references to racism/police brutality.)

Talk of the French had always provoked disagreement amongst the Emerson Saints.

The deeply divisive and oftentimes violent kind...

From the inception of their now defunct representative system, Jay Sung had been Emerson’s spokesperson. Each of the three voted on issues of importance, and whichever decision received a majority was the direction they proceeded in. Without fail, and whenever the topic of a French Organization contract was brought to the table, however, Jay vehemently voted against any and all compliance; this, regardless of whether it reflected the views of those he was representing.

It got to the point where the others expected nothing less.

“They slaughtered us like we were animals, and now they want us to do the grunt work so they can keep their hands clean? No. Fuck that. I won’t be a part of it, and neither would any real Saint.”

People sympathised with his position, because none of them really wanted to be puppets for the French. No amount of discontent on their part could magic up another option, though. It was either do as they were told and be absorbed by the superior force, or head back to a war that they had barely survived the first time around. And nobody wanted that.

Launceston’s population of Koreans—the new immigrants, in particular—always seemed to be on the receiving end of the city’s mistreatment. Jay’s father told him it’d been that way even when he’d been growing up in Brenton. They’d eventually chosen to congregate around north Anderson Island, instead, and the borough’s elite viewed them as little more than a cancerous fucking growth they hadn’t figured out how to remove. The judgements of those who sat on golden thrones was a world away from the very real oppression they had to deal with on their own doorsteps, though.

Police brutality—oftentimes directed toward immigrants who weren’t doing anything wrong, purely because of the way they looked—wasn’t nearly as bad as the racially-motivated hate crimes waged against them by Krick’s African-American gangs. Both had ultimately resulted in the formation of the Emerson Saints. For decades, their communities had been terrorised by outsiders, until eventually, a group of twenty-six (of which Jay had been a part) decided that it was time to stand up and fight.

In March of 2000, their gang was formed.

In June of 2000, the French took notice.

Jay had barely been twenty years old when the Organization decided to violently remind them that those who contemplated an uprising in St. Clair territory would be dealt with. Mercilessly. And it was precisely that—the things he’d seen, the way they’d attacked, and the friends that’d been taken from him in the process—which the younger Saints would never understand. They would remember talk from around the neighbourhood, or brutal stories shared in hushed whispers…but they’d never seen all the blood. Bathed their hands in it.

And they talked over him with their ignorant majorities? It made him sick.

By the time the French Organization presented the option for a truce in 2005—tired of wasting men on a battle that seemingly couldn’t be won—all but four of the original Saints had been killed in the fighting. None were imprisoned for their unspeakable actions against their enemies, nor had they deserted out of fear. They were simply massacred and left to rot in the streets like animals, all for the crime of defending themselves. Whilst, as was the case with any war, their conflict increased the rate of recruitment exponentially, the losses were astounding. Both in terms of statistics, and personal pain.

Jay had witnessed the death of two of his best friends. Had lost his non-violent girlfriend during a revenge attack against him. A Commandant had been burned alive in very public fashion for the latter, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat…

But it still didn’t bring them back.

A channel of communication eventually opened up between the two sides, but Jay refused to have any part of the discussion, in spite of the fact many of the Saints still looked to him as an unofficial leader. The anger was too fresh. The pride and the pain too great. War had been brutal, of course, but he still would’ve preferred to die fighting them than to live on his knees.

Unfortunately for him, not all of the Saints agreed.

The French had promised to end their attacks, and as an added bonus, offered to push the African-American gangs fighting their other front out of Krick. Understandably, Jay had been hesitant in accepting that they’d be willing to offer them anything but slaughter. It might’ve been an attempt at a ‘good faith’ gesture, but it also came with stipulations, because everything with them always fucking did. The drugs they sold? French, with a portion of the profits handed back to them. The guns they used? French, imported in an attempt to dent the income of the Russians and their weapons smuggling ring. Perhaps worst of all, though, were the contracts. The remaining Saints—especially the younger ones—had been more than happy to kill and maim on behalf of their enemies given the paycheque offered for the work.

Jay wasn’t one of them.

They didn’t fucking owe them any favours.

It went on for years, his frustration growing each day, but eventually he reached his breaking point.

The French were arrogant, egotistical fucks. They always had been. Given that they were supposed to be engaged in a truce, however, Jay thought they might’ve exercised a little restraint. Very clearly, one of the Commandants had taken a liking to the Representative of Saint’s Way, Euna, and very clearly, said feelings were not reciprocated. Jay had been there when she’d turned him down, but the coward had waited until she was alone to beat the shit out of her for the disrespect. She’d called Youngbae, barely intelligible as she choked on her own blood.  

It was a miracle she’d survived.

The Commandant was not so lucky.

As he watched Seung-hyun carve their gang’s name into the Frenchman’s chest, Youngbae holding down his writhing fucking body, Jay knew that this would be the end of the Emerson Saints as they knew it. The French would not take the murder of a Commandant lightly; especially not one found in the sorry state they left him.

The outrage was damn near immediate. Those who had become accustomed to doing the French Organization’s bidding—and had profited from it quite nicely—were livid that the ‘disproportionate’ actions of a few had taken away their choice to work for them at all. Even those who had never liked the affiliation seemed concerned about what this would mean for them in the long-run. Wondered whether they would have to run from Launceston entirely. Jay had expected that this would result in another war with the French, but he hadn’t expected it to tear the gang in two.

To his horror, many of the younger members turned on the remaining Saints for the promise of French protection, and guaranteed work with the Organization.

The war wasn’t spilling French blood in the street, it was spilling their own.

Eventually, the remaining Saints, now headed up solely by Jay—the epitome of a ruthless wartime leader—scarpered to Ainsburg in an attempt to recover from the assault. They didn’t know who they could trust. Didn’t know who would turn on them at any moment for a bigger paycheque from the French. Jay had never been the type to trust easily, but aside from the few he now designated his inner circle, despite many giving up their home—and oftentimes, friends and family—to follow the Saints, the paranoia was almost crippling. He barely confided in anybody about his plans. Barely left his home for anywhere but Yongseo...

Until the Russians came knocking.

The last thing he wanted was for them to get involved with another powerful mob. Jay half expected the woman to tell them they were settling in too close to Russian territory, and to get the fuck out before they made them. To his surprise, though, they seemingly came in peace. Ainsburg had never been their territory. In fact, it belonged to the Irish, and that was precisely the problem. The Russians despised the Irish almost as much as they did the French, but hadn’t the manpower to fight the O’Reillys as well as everybody else. All the Saints had to do was keep the Irish busy and distracted from any attempts on Brenton, and the Vorshevskys were willing to arm them with all the resources they needed.

Not only to take Ainsburg as their home, but continue the fight against the French, too.

They weren’t required to answer to the Russians, nor were they required to have any dealings in their business. They weren’t forced to do anything. If they wanted to say no, then the Russians would leave them alone to fend for themselves…but both sides knew that wasn’t an option.

Not really.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” she’d said.

Whilst he isn’t sure he’d go so far as to call the Russians friends, Jay knows that if they have any hope of surviving all that’s happened, they don’t really have a choice.

An eerily familiar scenario that he can only pray ends differently this time around…

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Alexandra Lee (ex-girlfriend, deceased) FAMILY: None. CONNECTIONS:

Jun Jae-sun: Best friend. For a while, he'd doubted him. Of the few remaining founders, JJ was the only one who hadn't opposed their former arrangement with the French. Jay knew he had his reasons, but it still caused massive issues between them for many years. When it came down to it, though, the French or the Saints, JJ hadn't hesitated to follow his family into Ainsburg. Reliving the war is hard for him due to his own massive losses, but Jay has never respected him more, and is determined for his pain not to have been in vain.

Sin Seung-hyun: Old friend. About the craziest mother fucker they have. Jay loves him for it. The French always regarded him as a loose cannon, and wanted little to do with him when they were working under them. After what happened to Euna, however, Jay knows he'd be hard pressed to find someone who hates the French more than him. As such, Seung-hyun remains one of the few he's fully confident would never betray them.

Lee Euna: Good friend. They're all a little bit protective of Euna, and were long before the French Commandant almost beat her to death. Jay is no different. The woman is a kinder soul than most in the Saints, and only ever strived for peace when she sought diplomacy with the French. Of all the Saints they brutalised over the years, she deserved it least. There's no way in hell he'll ever let one of them lay a hand on her again.

Kim Youngbae: Good friend. Along with JJ, Seung-hyun, Euna and Seo-jun, he is the last Jay considers to be a part of his inner circle. Whether or not he trusts the man's girlfriend, on the other hand, is another question entirely. Youngbae has been nothing but loyal to the Saints over the years, and is massively respected amongst the other members for the contributions he's made. Jay sees him no differently; particularly because many of his loved ones were those who defected to the French. Leaving them behind was difficult, but Jay makes sure he knows that his sacrifices are appreciated.

Kim Saera: Former friend. Traitor. Regardless of their former friendship, and regardless of being Youngbae's sister, if he sees her, he'll kill her on sight.

Inna Volkova: Acquaintance. They meet rarely these days, but she was the one who first approached him three years ago with the offer from the Russians. The enemy of his enemy. Jay isn't sure he trusts her, but right now, he doesn't really need to. As long as she keeps up her end of the bargain, things will remain civil.

[jessiemayk]

💛☕️🍰Today I Hosted A Biggest Morning Tea At Damien Gerard Studios! Thank You To @marshalljohncullen , @damiengerardstudios , @murraydilger_music & Everyone Who Attended Or Donated Online! Thanks To You - We Have Officially Raised Over Our Target Goal!!!🎉 Enough For A Trained Cancer Nurse To Be Available & Offer Support To Those In Need, Provided 79 Kids With A Sun Smart Education & A Day Of A PHD Students World Class Research @cancercouncilnsw !

#mybiggestmorningtea #biggestmorningtea #australiasbiggestmorningtea #damiengerardstudios #openmic #cancercouncil #cancer #fundraiser #morningtea (when I was little I used to think it was FUNraiser tehe.)

[getonthebside]

HAPPY NEW WEEK SOULCIALITE

3rd Mondays Are Normally For The Divas To Rock The Mic But I Got Some Friends In Town & So All Are Welcomed On Stage Tomorrow Night. As Always Doors Open at 8pm And Our New Showtime Is at 9pm Get There Early For Dinner & Drinks Did I mention I Have friends in Town Register on Eventbrite