Finley O'Brien
Bartender/Hammer
When the world goes to shit, I will still have my family.
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Post by Finley O'Brien on Jun 18, 2015 4:40:54 GMT -5
"Aye, just stack those in the back. No, put them out on display. YES in the lock room, are ya an idiot? The coppers find that, and it'll be the state house for the O'Brien family, ya dolt!" Finley shook his head as he watched the staff carrying the crates of imported whiskey, and moonshine into the back. Idiots, the lot of them, idiots. Looking down at the register book on the bar in front of him, he flipped through the pages, and frowned as he lifted a cup of tea to his lips. Something was just not adding up right in the books, and it was bugging him. Finley was a stickler for details, always had been every since he was a boy, just learning how the place was ran. His uncle had taught him how to read the books, and it was his uncle who now ran The Underground. Perhaps his Uncle Declan had something going, that he didn't know about... Finley just shrugged, closed the book and stuffed it under the counter. It wasn't his job to worry about these things, he just had to make sure the bar was stocked for opening time.
So, Finley went about his tasks, setting up the bar for the night, making sure glasses were cleaned, and bottles were filled and at hand for serving. He loved this bar, the way the old oak bar top had darkened through the years from smoke, and spilled drinks, the way the girls danced on the floor. Even to watching his cousins trying to sneak drinks past him, of course occasionally he would miss a couple, though never enough to let them get in trouble. After his years at war, and far from his home, and family. Fin was happy for everyday he was home. As he finished his tasks, he undid the shoulder holster he was wearing, and slipped it under the bar. His last bit of preparation, always making sure his capture German Luger was at easy and quick reach. No one ever expected to have a gun drawn on them, not in an area where most people knew how to use magic. Oh it was a sight to watch them squirm when they saw the heavy steel, and panicked.
That was Finley though, refusing to use magic to harm others, but having to issues with pulling the trigger on them.
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Post by Maureen Brady-O'Brien on Jun 18, 2015 19:20:32 GMT -5
Maureen flipped her hair over her shoulder and gave her sweetest smile to the bouncer. "You know me!" she crooned. "I'm here to see my brother, please." She flounced inside, feeling terribly special and important. Oh, how she wished she could use her real name at school, and then everybody would have to respect her. They would bow down to her. They would worship at her feet.
It was still early, so it was simple to spot Finley at the bar, putting away an incredibly dull-looking book. Pinning her shiniest smile to her face, Maureen made her way over and hopped gracefully up onto a bar stool in front of him. "Hello, sir," she exclaimed, "I would like a brandy, please. A large one. I'm of age, I promise."
She was far too childish and self-absorbed to admit it, but she had truly missed her brother during the years he'd been abroad. She'd been terrified that they would receive news of his death. It didn't even make any sense. They were rich! He didn't have to go fight! What had gotten into him?
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Finley O'Brien
Bartender/Hammer
When the world goes to shit, I will still have my family.
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Post by Finley O'Brien on Jun 18, 2015 22:30:54 GMT -5
A flurry of movement at the door, and Finley sighed, and smiled shaking his head as he slid weapon deep under the bar so his sister wouldn't see it. It was odd, he had no problem letting her see him get in a fight over next to nothing with anyone. However, letting her see the gun he still carried, it felt wrong to him, like it was part of a life he never wanted her exposed. Fin leaned aginst the bar his arms foldex, as his little sister strutted to the bar and hoisted herself into one of the stools. The way she acted like she owNed the world, was a far cry from Fins more humble attitude towards life. And his upbringing. Ad she flashed her nicest smile, and asked for a brandy.
The older brother raised an eyebrow, and reached into his vest pulling out a silver cigare the case. "Brandy, an a large one, eh? Hmmm... I'm not entirely sure you're old enough. Besides liqour is illegal to own and distribute, and to that, we aren't even open. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave, missy." Fin smiled, and tapped a cigarette against the case before sticking it between his lips, and reaching for a match.
As he set fire to the object between his lips, Fin glanced up and saw Maureen pouting at him. Fin held kept his eyes locked on hers, watching them through the acrid smoke put off by the tobacco, before his face cracked with a smile, and a chuckle slipped past his lips.
"Okay, one glass. You know the rules though. A small one, only here at the Underground, or at home, and only when I am working." Fin poured two glasses as he spoke. And handed one to his sister. "And the most important, never tell mom and dad." Fin lifted his glass to Maureens, before drinking. "Two questions. First, how have you been? Second. Any poor sop, I have to put the fear of death into?"
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Post by Maureen Brady-O'Brien on Jun 19, 2015 6:15:18 GMT -5
Ah, the party line. It was illegal, she was too young ... the typical Fin run-down. Fortunately, Maureen knew this routine, and she tilted her head to the side and pouted like a little girl. After all, the difference in their ages being rather large, he remembered her as a tiny child, and she knew he'd always have a soft spot for her.
Of course, she had to play by his rules, which was perfectly all right. Maureen had heard the horror stories about girls who drank with men who were not their brothers. Bad things happened to them, and she wanted no part of it. Yes, she loved attending parties, gossiping with the girls and flirting with the boys, but she never drank with them. Only with family, because they would protect her.
"And you know that I follow the rules because I'm silly but not stupid. Thaaaaaank you, Fiiiiiiiiiiin," she crooned, toasting with him before taking a sip of her brandy. It went right to her head, and it was terribly fun.
"Mmmm, let's see. I've been bored in my classes, and I've been angry because Kaitlin decided to tell all the boys that I kissed Michael, which is not true. And then I've felt guilty because I thought about starting a rumor about her for revenge but then I thought about how I should just be the better person, correct? But it's sooooooooo difficult because everyone's laughing at me and stupid Michael didn't even deny it because he's had a crush on me for years even though I despise him so ... Michael, perhaps? He's a liar, Fin. I didn't kiss him. It's rude."
She took another sip of brandy, trying her best not to pull a face. Maureen liked to pretend that she really enjoyed the taste of the stuff. After all, it was what her older relatives drank, and they seemed to enjoy it just fine.
"And now your turn. Tell me all of the gossip from the world of the adults."
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Finley O'Brien
Bartender/Hammer
When the world goes to shit, I will still have my family.
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Post by Finley O'Brien on Jun 20, 2015 2:55:26 GMT -5
Finley listened to his sister intently, and raised an eyebrow at the mention of her kissing a boy. She assured him it wasn't true, but the fact she was getting to the age where Fin should be worried about things was starting to bother him. Even with her attitude, self-righteousness, and overconfidence, Maureen was his sister, and she was growing fast into a beautiful young lady. the fact there might come a time when someone hurt her, made Fin feel more than slightly protective of his baby sister. By the time she had finished, he was almost scowling at the thought of boys fawning over her."Hmm.... want me to go have a word with this, Michael, kid?"
Fins offer was genuine, of course he wouldn't hurt the boy for something like this, but Fin would sure as hell make Michael fell true fear. Maureens next question caught Finley off guard, and his eyes flicked to the register book, under the bar. What would she want to know what the adults were up to? The girl was still just a kid, all she should be worrying about was school, and boys. Fins eyebrow cocked up, and he watched Maureen carefully. "Now what is a precious thing like yourself, worried about the affairs of adults, hmm?" Finley was only on a need to know basis, and right now he didn't know, nor did he really care to know. However Maureen was insisting, and he finally relented. "Fine. Truth is, I'm not sure what is going. No one tells me anything, unless I absolutely need to know." Fin shrugged, and finished his glass of brandy, "Its how I prefer it, all I know is when the liquor shipments come in, sweetheart. This way, if the police ever grab me,I can honestly say I don't know anything." Fin reached over the bar, and gently poked his sisters nose. "You should follow me own suit. A girl your age, should be more interested in school, and boy, than the running of the family. Got it, sweetheart?"
This girl had her whole lie ahead of her, and she was worrying about the events of the family. Fin had to smile and shake his head. "You're a lot like I was. Always having to know the details, it's not as glamorous as you think, darling." Moving around the bar, Fin wrapped his arms around Maureen and hugged her, lifting her off the stool in the process. "Wait a moment.... shouldn't you be at the academy?
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Post by Maureen Brady-O'Brien on Jun 21, 2015 17:10:34 GMT -5
It was so tempting, the idea of her brother swooping in to the rescue, scaring the daylights out of Michael so that he would recant his falsehoods. After all, people were laughing at her ... laughing! It was already hard enough to maintain her secrecy without having such a good reason to renounce it. Oh, how their faces would fall when they discovered that she was an O'Brien, that her family ran this town and practically owned every pathetic little person in it. She deserved to have her classmates worshiping at her feet, not laughing at her supposed poor taste in boys.
But there was a part of her that rankled at the idea of being rescued. Maureen was growing up, and the fire that seemed to build within her every day came along with a certain wanting, a desire to fight her own battles. She knew what was expected of her - attract a man from a good Irish family, marry, have many sons to fill out the ranks and carry on with the family business. And if that was her certain future, why shouldn't she try to enjoy these last few years of freedom? Fight to defend herself, instead of calling in the men. She could jinx Michael's nose off! Would that be preferable to having everyone know that she had gone crying to her big brother?
"Well, I don't know," she replied thoughtfully, running a finger around the edge of her glass. "Perhaps it will blow over ... or perhaps I could take care of it myself. But ... how would one do that, exactly?" She looked up at him, met his eyes, and her gaze begged for guidance. "I want to be strong, Fin. How do I do that?" After all, he would know. He was the one who had left everything behind to go and fight, risking his life every day as though it were simple.
His response to her question about what the adults were up to was terribly unsatisfying, and she swatted lightly at his hand when he poked her nose. With a shrug, she looked into her glass of brandy and finished it off. He really hadn't given her much; he never did. "It just seems so much more interesting than my life at school. But you're right, I don't want the police to get you."
The hug was nice and warm and made her feel safe, and Maureen giggled as she was lifted right out of her seat. "No, I'm finished for the day," she replied. "This year we get free periods and mine is the last one of the day, which is wonderful." Her head was spinning a bit; perhaps she'd drunk her brandy too quickly, and suddenly she found herself asking something she'd wondered for a long time.
"Fin ... was it scary? Or are you just so brave that it didn't matter, being shot at?"
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Finley O'Brien
Bartender/Hammer
When the world goes to shit, I will still have my family.
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Post by Finley O'Brien on Jun 21, 2015 21:50:39 GMT -5
Maureen was singlehandedly the most important person in Fin's life. She had always written to him while he was gone, even when he wouldn't always write back. She seemed to look at Fin as if he walked on water, and could do no wrong in her eyes. At least that was how it appeared to him, whenever they spoke. In truth nothing could be farther from the truth, he was a trouble maker with a record as long as any in the O'Brien family. Fin made no effort to hide the blood on his hands, but Fin also didn't brag about it, like some of his cousins. He did what he had to do, to get by in the world, and if it meant he had to fight for it, then so be it. Looking at Maureen as she wavered on her feet, Fin shook his head and helped her back onto her seat. "Maybe I should stop serving you drink, seems you can't handle it, baby sister." Fin teased and nudged her gently. As she spoke and asked him how to handle it. Finley shook his head, and smiled, "You don't want to handle it the way I would, sweetheart. The I handle things like that is not the most diplomatic way.." As if to illustrate his point, his hands flexed into fists before he stepped back and reached under the bar. Fin pulled a pair of teacups out, and a pot of warm water. "Tea, little sister?" As he waited he poured a cup and started steeping some leaves. "Honestly, don't lie to me. Do you like this kid? If not, then just go talk to him, and ask him to tell the truth. If he doesn't take you seriously, then threaten him. If he doesn't take the threat seriously, then show him you mean it. Just don't kill him." Finley paused then looked back at Maureen his voice quiet, "And do not use magic to physically harm him, or anyone." As always, his usual rule, non-negotiable, and no arguments.
In all his life he could not have expected the question that Maureen asked next. He had the cup of tea halfway to his mouth when the words hit his ears and he froze. For a moment, Finley's his went wide, and starred at his sister. "I uhh... it's..." Finley set the cup done, and shook his head. "I was never brave... running off like that was the single most stupid thing I've ever done. I spent four years in a man made hell, all because I wanted to be different, and wanted my life to mean something." You know that entire time I was over there, I never used magic, at all." Fin grew silent, and looked away from his sisters face. "During all that time there, you know what the worst part was... everyday men died, and it got to the point where watching a man die, or killing him, it never bothered me. That was the worst feeling I've ever experienced, is watching people I'd grown to be friends with, die and not even be affected by it." Finley looked back and snatched the empty brandy glasses from the bartop, and looked at his sister. "Shouldnt you be at home or something. Not at a club, you're too young to be in?
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Post by Maureen Brady-O'Brien on Jun 24, 2015 4:17:14 GMT -5
"Of course I can't handle it," Maureen replied with a tipsy giggle as he helped her back into her seat. "That only proves that I follow your rules, doesn't it? And if you don't let me experiment, then who knows what kind of trouble I could get up to?"
Despite the alcohol and the giggles, she nodded "yes" for tea and then listened seriously to Fin's advice on dealing with Michael. Talk to him, ask him to tell the truth ... then threaten, and hurt if necessary. But how could she hurt a boy without using magic? She could possibly kick him ... hard, and right between the legs. But, frankly, there was something very frightening about the thought of simply starting such a conversation with him. He was a boy, after all, and if Maureen was known as the petulant girl, who would want to marry her after graduation?
Oh, it was frustrating. If only she were a boy.
"I will," she replied, after a long moment of serious consideration. "I'll ask him to tell the truth, and then I'll tell you how it goes."
Fin's eyes went wide at her question about the war, and Maureen's stomach dropped. Had she made a terrible misstep? She probably had. The question had been impertinent to an extreme degree, but she couldn't turn back now. She'd finally put it into words. "Your life does mean something," she offered, her voice quiet and chastened. "It always has. You're my big brother."
A long, difficult silence, and Maureen wanted to cry, but she didn't want to do it in front of her brother. After all, she'd asked. Of course he had seen people die, countless people, and how could you survive if every death broke you down? Oh, but hearing it spoken aloud ... she was a terrible sister. The worst ever.
She flinched in surprise when Fin snatched away the glasses; Maureen was unused to such abrupt movements from her gentle brother. He never made angry motions around her. She must really have upset him ... oh, of course she had ...
"Oh, please, Fin, don't be angry!" she exclaimed, foolish tears welling up now in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I really am. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry."
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Finley O'Brien
Bartender/Hammer
When the world goes to shit, I will still have my family.
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Post by Finley O'Brien on Jun 24, 2015 15:34:15 GMT -5
Fin was staring at the rack of bottles behind the bar, his hands shaking as he set the glasses dowm. It had been going so nice, just chatting with his little sister, not really being serious. Why had she asked him about it, why had she brought up that fucking nightmare. He knew why, he never talked about it, even after he came back, he never said a word about what he had down. He had just gotten a job as the bartender, working for Declan, and that was it. Of course if anyone had ever asked ifhe regretted, he would have said yes, but then again. On that same hand, it was an experience, that Finley would do again in a heartbeat. There were good times during, once on christmas eve, the fighting had stopped. The soldiers climbed out of the trenches, and they had dinner together, they drank, and sang, and just for a moment, in that cold snow, and under that bright winter sky, they were no longer at war. Damnit, why had she asked him, why had she wanted to know?
Fin just stood staring at the rack, waiting for his sister to leave, then he heard the worst sound imaginable.In the four years, of listening to men scream, curse, and beg, as they lay dying in the mud, calling for their mothers, this was worse. The sounds that touched his ears, and pierced his brain like a dagger of frozen steel, a sound far worse than the thunder of guns. Something that Finley would rather die than hear, was his sister crying. The sound of distress, and sadness in her voice made Fin wish he had never been born, to hear her like that, it was unbearable.
Finley's white knuckle grip fell awy from the counter, and he didn't even bother waking around the bar. In one swift move, Fin spun, and slid over thebar, landing on his feet next to Maureen. His arms wrapped around her, and Fin held his sister close, her face against his shoulder. "Shhh, shhh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that, or be like that. Shhh... I'm sorry, i'm so sorry.." Fin whispered to her, his eyes squeezed shut as he just held the shaking form of his sister.
"It's not your fault, shh..."
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Post by Maureen Brady-O'Brien on Jun 25, 2015 18:06:33 GMT -5
She couldn't help it; being wrapped up in her brother's arms made the floodgates open even more. So many years of not talking about this - just the unspoken tension she felt in her brother - well, in some ways it was good to get it out in the open, right?
Dear Fin, Mommy got mad at me today because I fell in the mud wearing my new white dress ...
Dear Fin, Tommy pushed me down and it made me so mad I punched him ...
Dear Fin, I'm so nervous about starting school in September ...
Dear Fin, I know Mom misses you because she cries a lot ...
Four long years without her brother, four childish years summed up in so many letters that he knew everything, each detail. Embarrassment, loneliness, envy, restlessness, all poured out onto the page and sent across the ocean, and what had she gotten back? Platitudes. Jokes that were strained, even on the paper. So much simmering just beneath the surface, untouchable and unknowable ... Fin. How was it fair that he knew so much and she knew so little?
But she couldn't blame him. After all, it wasn't his fault. He'd been trying to protect her, hadn't he? He'd been trying to preserve her childhood, trying to pretend that he wasn't crawling through muddy trenches and killing people and risking his life every moment of every day. But she had wanted to help him, and she didn't know if she had, and she didn't know if she could, and she felt certain that she would never truly matter to anyone, not the way he did ...
It was a man's world, and it allowed her very little latitude, and she longed to know exactly what it was like.
But for now she just pressed her face against her brother's shoulder and cried and mumbled foolish things - "I missed you ... did you miss me? ... can I do something?"
Good God, anything just to be important to someone!
"I'm sorry, Fin ... I didn't mean to make you mad ... I've just wondered for so long ... "
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Finley O'Brien
Bartender/Hammer
When the world goes to shit, I will still have my family.
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Post by Finley O'Brien on Jun 27, 2015 2:51:18 GMT -5
Finley was cradling his sister in his arms, ignoring the looks of the few other staff. They knew what the two meant to each other, and they knew better than to say anything to Finley. Gently her rubbed her back,m as so many memories came flooding back to him. She had been one of the few family members to stay in contact with him while he was gon. It seemed like every week he had a new letter from her.They were short, mostly childish, but always wondering when he would be home. He had tried to respond to every one, but there were more than a few that he missed.
Fin smiled, as he had a sudden idea, and he stepped back from his sister, and held her shoulder. "Hey, I have something to show you,should make you feel a bit better..." Fin checked hi watch and nodded, still plenty of time, before they opened. "Come on... you should see this... Someone should at least..." Fin led his sister into the small room above the dressing room. The place h considered more his home, than the O'Brien mansion. "So... when I was gone, you sent me letters constantly... and I read, and kept every single one of them. They kept me going, they kept giving me a reason to keep smiling." Fin reached into his closet, and pulled an old batter trunk from the back of it. The paint was green, and faded, and stenciled on the lid in big black letter was, O'BRIEN, F.
Opening the chest, he let his hands slide over the brown wool uniform that was folded neatly on top. Reaching under the jacket he pulled a small wooden box out and turned back to his sister. "Every letter, every post card and every little thing you sent me, is in this box... I kept it because I needed it, I had to have something to keep me here, to keep my humanity... When I left I thought of it as just another adventure... It turned out so much more.." Fin opened the box, and pulled out an envelope from the top of the pile, and dumped the contents into his hands.
A dozen or so picture now filled Fin's hands, and he exhaled shakily as he stared at the one on the top. A hundred men stood in the picture, bright smiling faces, clean neat uniforms, a hundred men with no idea of what was to come. "These were the men I served with... every six months we took a picture..." Fin handed Maureen the next scene was different entirely. The number of men were severely diminished, their uniforms no longer pristine, and the smiles had lost some of their joy. "That was two months after we reached France... So many men had died in that amount of time, so many of my friends..." Finley's voice was soft, and his eyes had lost focus as looked at the pictures.Flipping through the rest, Fin laid the final picture down, a half dozen men stood there, their uniforms tattered, and stained, the smiles all faded away, and the ir eyes no longer carrying the same light. "Finley sat silently as he stared at it, "That was 1918... three months before the end of the war. A week after that was taken, the four on the left were killed... Out of 100 men, that I trained with only three of us made it out."
Finley rubbed his eyes, and looked at Maureen, "I have never been angry at you, Maureen... you kept me together for those four years... I'll never be able to be angry at you..."
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Post by Maureen Brady-O'Brien on Jun 28, 2015 4:41:24 GMT -5
Maybe she was crying and causing a scene, but that didn't matter. The feeling that prevailed over all the others, that suffused her entire being, was a warm sense of safety, and Fin was the only person who made her feel that way. Their parents were all right, but they were strict and demanding, with very little softness to offer. In all honesty, Maureen often felt that they viewed her as some sort of thing, or as a pet that had to be scolded and housetrained. They had other priorities, other things they would choose over her. Fin was the only person in the world who would always, always choose her wellbeing over anything else, even - perhaps especially - his own.
As she started to calm down, it occurred to her to feel guilty about the large wet spot her tears had left on his lapel, but before she was able to say anything, he was ushering her out of the main bar area and into a small room upstairs. These were his quarters? The word "Spartan" popped into her mind, although she didn't really understand why. Her eyes widened when she saw the trunk: it was just so ... it looked the way his eyes had looked ever since he'd come back from the war. Ancient, somehow. Like one of those wise old Galapagos tortoises, or a Greek statue unearthed on some tiny foreign island.
As though they had seen simply everything and could never again be surprised. She ran her fingers over the lettering on the lid: O'BRIEN, F. Stark, unwavering, deceptively permanent. Only paint, after all.
She emitted a little gasp when he pulled out the box and explained what was inside it. Every one? But ... but they were so silly! After all, she was only six years old when he left, her handwriting barely legible, her thoughts even less so. Mommy got mad at me today ... It had all seemed so important at the time. It wasn't until recently that it had occurred to her to feel shame: childish offerings of those things that seemed to children as though they were lifelong traumas. Every moment, and all here in this box ...
Oh, and the photographs. Maureen's heart ached for her brother. One hundred hopeful men whittled down to three quiet souls who had seen everything and could never again be surprised. She took the final photograph, handling it carefully, and lifted it closer to her face. Unsmiling Fin ... precious brother ... endangered and disheartened ... knowing ancient truths but not what to do with them.
"I'm terribly selfish," she finally admitted, handing the picture back to him. "Terribly selfish because all of those men died and the strongest thought in my mind is ... at least Fin came home. I would have happily seen all of Europe burn, if that meant you would come home. Did you really ... do you mean it? That I helped you? Really and truly, Fin? Because I feel ... I feel as though ... I don't know." She rubbed at her eyes, then leaned against his side, letting her hand rest on the box of letters, one finger tracing the childish handwriting on the envelope.
"Thank you for showing me this. I do feel better, as strange as that is ... guilty for feeling better, but still ... better."
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Finley O'Brien
Bartender/Hammer
When the world goes to shit, I will still have my family.
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Post by Finley O'Brien on Jun 29, 2015 0:35:37 GMT -5
Finley stared at the picture that his sister held in her hands,his eyes traveling the faces of the men, he still recalled each and every one of their names. He knew the towns they grew up, knew the addresses of the families homes. Every year, whenever the anniversary of a mans death rolled around, Fin would send flowers to that mans family, along with a hand written letter describing the kind of man their son had been. He knew every battlefield where a man fell, and was positive he could walk to the exact spot they had retrieved the body from. Flanders, Passchendaele, Viemy Ridge, so much death, Fin and his friends had seen the worst of it, and they had not came out unscathed. Well, except for that damned american, Jackson Reed, the man was unflappable, and Fins best friend during the war.
Fin started to wonder what had happened to Jackson, last he had heard, the cocky fool had stayed in France to join their Air Force, though Fin always imagined a woman was involved. When Maureen spoke up, Fin smiled and shook his head, "No. You weren't selfish. Every single man there all had someone praying for them. Hoping that I would be taken in their place..." He pulled his sister back into his arms, and rested his chin on her head, "I mean it, Maureen. I mean everything, you kept me together, and sane out there." Kissing the top of her head, he shook his head, and pushed the photo back to her. "No, I want you to have it... I have the only photo I'll ever need right here..."
Reaching into his vest, Finley pulled out a small leather envelope, reaching between the leather, he plucked an old tatted photo from it. In the picture it was two children, one very mischievous looking boy, with a little girl on his lap. "Remember when mom and dad had this taken? It was just before I joined the academy. I kept it in my uniform the entire time I was over seas."
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