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Post by Heath Mulligan on Jun 28, 2015 1:07:53 GMT -5
Heath stood in front of the O'Brien mansion with nothing but his hands in his pockets and a cigarette between his lips. He had apparated to the residence mere moments ago in preparation for meeting with his uncle Cormac for the afternoon. His uncle, not only a wise, powerful man, but also the patriarch of his family, was one of the very, very few that could ever possibly intimidate Heath, if he allowed him to. The way he carried himself with such assurance and power was something that made Heath himself feel both jealousy, and inspiration. He had always tried to model himself not only after his own father, but as his uncle as well...and in his opinion, he was doing a pretty damn good job at it. Not only was the drug demand high and thriving, but he had proven his importance and strength in the community by managing the drug market with pricision and ease. Still though, it was always a good idea to reminds others of his success in order to satisfy themselves personally, which explained why he had decided to pay a visit to his uncle; to do just that: let him feel satisfaction in what Heath would tell him, and then let him be on his "merry" little way.
With a light inhale, he pulled a hand from the pocket of his pants and lifted it to his lips, where he pulled out the cigarette and blew out a small cloud of smoke. Glancing behind him, he peered at Joey, who was smoking a cigar himself and lingering outside the main gate. With a trademark smirk, Heath dropped the cigarette to the ground, stomped it out, then proceeded forward towards the steps of the large, forboding manor. Once reaching the top of the porch, he collected himself and rang the doorbell.
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Cormac O'Brien
Head of the Family
On well-run farms pests have to be kept down.
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Post by Cormac O'Brien on Jun 28, 2015 5:59:01 GMT -5
Sean, one of the bodyguards, was stationed inside by the front door, so he answered it quickly when Heath rang. He offered a broad smile; if Heath was here, then Joey was here, and Sean had a standing bet with him, which Joey had lost during the week. Good old baseball, and Sean with his knack for picking the right team.
"Mr. Mulligan," he said warmly. "Welcome home."
Welcome home. Cormac had made it very clear that this was to be the standard greeting for family members who came to the mansion. It served a dual purpose: both reminding them of their fortunate place in the family and, of course, the very real wrath that would be brought to bear on them if they ever committed an act of betrayal.
"Your uncle is in his office. Joey tell you he bet on the Yanks this week? Owes me a fiver." With a boisterous grin, Sean showed Heath inside, then made his way out to where Joey stood to collect the debt, make new bets and generally shoot the shit.
Just then, Cormac appeared at the top of the grand central staircase. "Heath!" he called out as he began to descend toward his nephew. "Pleasure to see you. I'm coming down for a drink; would you like one, too?"
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Post by Heath Mulligan on Jun 28, 2015 18:56:41 GMT -5
As the door drifter open, Heath put on a trademark smile, and met the familiar face of Sean, who immediately greeted him with a smile of his own. His uncles' bodyguards had both been giants in their own way, and for that, Heath was glad solely because he knew that Joey enjoyed spending time with them. What did a bunch of bodyguards and bodybuilders do for fun, anyway? Scout out people to practice their bad-assness on? Smirking to himself, Heath stepped through the threshold of the door and stopped in the foyer, peering into that of the living room as Sean addressed him with a firm, but genuine "welcome home" and then informed him of his uncle's whereabouts.
"Thanks Sean," Heath retorted curtly, then chuckled and nodded his head. "He sure did. He tells me about your bets all the damn time. Go ahead on go get him," he motioned out the door, then watched as the big man followed suit and closed the front door behind him.
The smirk slowly fell from his face as he ventured casually down the main hallway, his eyes taking in the decor on the walls on either side of him. He was convinced the mansion was as old as the country was, and he was probably right. His family was an old, yet prestige one, and every time he would walk through the halls of his family's home, he could get a feel of just how much history laid within the interior. As he stopped at the foot of the stairs, his uncle's voice traveled to his ears, and Heath shook his head a bit as he watched him descend.
"And you as well, uncle," he greeted, giving Cormac a firm pat on the back as he reached the main floor. "And as a matter of fact, yes I would. Apparating makes me extremely parched."
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