Polo and Abba's RP (Mature Content)

Even if we don't know what we're doing yet, if we have the post, we can't forget.

SO!

Once we decide, we're good to go. ^_^

Dude. I loved your idea you messaged me.

but im on my phone right now. So typing is insanely hard. Can you maybe do a starting post that i can respond to once i get a chance to hop onto a comp?

((Haha! XD Ah, okay. I just asked you to start, but don't worry, then. I'll try to come up with something. ))

Name: Mitch Walker
Age: 19
Appearance: Image
Other: Drug addict / Gangster. He has a reputation for being dangerous, violent, and somewhat sick-minded at times.
Nickname: 'The Macabre' (Synonyms for Macabre: deathlike, dreadful, eerie, ghastly, grim, grisly, gruesome, horrible, sick.) Also, 'Big Mac', developed from the above nickname.

Thank you. I can only do one luners when im on my phone. I dont think thatll help you that much. XD

o.o for a second. I thought he was thirty nine. Because my foundation fell onto the screen and obstructed the 1
-fail-

(( I just had such a spazz moment. I decided to stretch, and then I leaned back, and because my computer chair is broken, when I put my weight against the back rest, it leaned back as well - then I had a total spazz fit flailing my arms and feeling like I was going to fall off the edge of the earth, before I remembered... My feet were still on the ground. o_0

It was somewhat hilarious. XD

Haha! No worries. Although I'm so museless, mine will probably not be much more than a line...

LMAO! You go Abba. That was an epic fail. No, I don't think I could play a 39 year old character very well... And it might be a bit creepy. XD Haha! ))

((Okay, don't ask what happened, I ended up feeling over-mused. o_0 Haha! I'm actually kinda proud of this post. In fact, I think it would make a nice start to a book... XD All the same, PLEASE don't make me keep up this sort of pace, because I can't do it. o_0 Consider this one post of decent quality and quantity to be my apology for taking so long. ))


"...And they all lived happily ever after." Mitch finished in his sweet, storyteller's voice. "The end." He glanced up, and smiled sweetly at the girl cowering in the corner of the room. They were in the basement of the abandoned hospital. It was a common rumour that this place was haunted, but of course, that urban legend had stemmed from the presence of the gang, 'The Wicken', in this place.
The gang, led by Vincent 'Iron Fist' Brickwell, was known throughout the city. Their name was a clever play on the 'Wiccan' religion, spelling the word in such a way that it made the reader instantly think 'Wicked'. And of course, this described them perfectly.
The Wicken, as it were, were notorious for two things;

The first was their unwavering ability to always cause trouble wherever they went. And not the usual 'graffiti and drugs' sort of trouble, oh no. It was far, far worse... Unlike most of the smaller gangs, the Wicken dealt in kidnapping, rape, muder and just about any heinous crime they could think of. Why? Well, for the four 'F's, or course. Fame, Fun, Fortune, and 'F**k, why the Hell not?'

The second thing for which the gang was notorious was their uncanny ability to always get away after said trouble. None of the higher-ups were ever caught. In fact, many said they had never even been seen. The gang seemed to disappear as though by magic, which lead to the common belief that they were involved in some sort of witchcraft, or 'wiccan', as their name would suggest.

They were not. In fact, Vince scorned the very idea of witchcraft. But despite that, the gang was pleased by the rumours, and Vince was glad to adopt them as widely accepted false truth.

Mitch closed the book with a loud 'clap', causing the trembling girl to jump. "P-please..." She mouthed through silent lips - robbed of her voice by cruel weeks of torturing. "Mitch, please... Please... PLEASE!" Her silent cries became more and more desperate, and tears began streaming from her eyes as she crawled toward him over the cracked cement floor - smearing her torn white dress with a century's worth of grime.
"No point begging, darlin'." Mitch drawled, kicking her away from his feet, and standing up. "It ain't my fault your 'rents didn't love ya enough to cough up the dough." He shrugged, loading his pistol, and turning to face her.
He stared at her for a while, until a loud chiming filled the room. After twelve peals of the great brass bell in the Church down the street, Mitch flashed a sympathetic smile. "Merry Christmas, love. Since you were naughty, I'm afraid I've just one present for you..." He tsked in disappointment. "Such a waste, really."
And as the girl's mouth opened to emit a silent screen, Mitch pulled the trigger.

He closed his eyes and turned away before he could see his handiwork, but he head the faint 'splat' of a flood of liquid rubies striking the ground.
'More blood spilled.' Mitch reflected somewhat bitterly. 'And yet more proof that I've earned my name. 'The Macabre', huh, Mitch? Bet you're proud o' yourself now.'
He sighed irritably, sliding his pistol into his pocket as he left the room.

"Yo, Mac!" a voice greeted him. Mitch glance up, and found a faint smile lifting his lips at the sight of his friend, Greg Wilson. Greg was a newcomer to the gang, and certainly not among the big names, but he was a good guy.
"Wanna smoke?" Greg asked, tossing Mitch a lit doobie. Mitch caught it, and put it to his lips. "Thanks." He mumbled in muffled response.
"You okay?" Greg asked with some concern, watching his friend between puffs of smoke.
"That was the third one t'night." Mitch explained, "And I c'n think o' better ways to spend Christmas eve than readin' Fairytales 'n killin' folks." He sighed heavily, slowly relaxing as the clouds of pungent smoke wafted around him. "I need a breather. Seeya later, Greg."
He licked his dry lips, then turned and jogged up the crumbly cement stairs to the ground floor of the hospital.
It was derelict and broken, so he had to watch his step on the rotting floorboards, but Mitch was well used to this by now.
Not long later, he found himself walking outside in the quiet night. The hospital was just a short way out of town, on the banks of the old canal. The canal wasn't in use now, of course, so the water no longer flowed - but thanks to the rain, there was still plenty left in the bottom.
More like a dam, now. Mitch reflected pointlessly, kicking a stone over the edge. He couldn't see the water level in the darkness, so he counted the seconds until the stone hit the surface.
One... Two... Three... SPLASH!
"We've had less rain than last year." He commented with a sigh, letting his legs crumple so he fell into a cross-legged position on the grassy bank - staring over the crumbling cement rim into the canal.
Some said that ghosts were ferried across it to the afterlife.
Mitch knew better.
The wailings that had lead to this rumour had been from Vince's drowning phase, when his favourite method of killing had been to throw their victims, bound and gagged, into the canal.
Nowadays, Vince was more into make-believe sh*t. Like fairytales...
Mitch sighed and rolled his eyes, then reached into the pocket of his heavy coat, and brought out a tatty, leather-bound book.
‘Grimm’s Fairytales’ was adorned on the creased burgundy cover, in clinquant letters of goldleaf.
With a peaceful expression, Mitch snuffed out the smoking doobie in his hand, and flipped the old book open.
’Once upon a time… He read, the words swimming before his eyes in the dull orange glow of the flickering steetlamp overhead.

((Wow darling. Don't worry. I don't think I can keep it up either. LOL
If you don't know Ria. Then... I think you have some issues. LOLz. I can always repost her picture if need be. ;3))


((o.o I really hope that works. xD I figured a masquerade ball would be a simple way to get her 'kidnapped' ;3))

((-has most epic masquerade dress- -points- dress))

((Awesomeness!!! I hope her boobs don't fall out. Y'know, assuming they don't pop first. ^_^
Polo finds dresses funny.
It is very pretty, though. ))

"Yo, Big Mac." A deep, guttural voice called from the door. Mitch swung around, staring at the broad-shouldered silhouette of 'Krusher' - so named because of his deadly skill of crushing victims in his ham-like arms. Nobody wanted a hug from the crushes... The black boy was large and heavy-set, bald, and often adorned with a small selection of bling. Right now, his bulky form nearly blocked the entire doorway. "Yeah, Kurt?" Mitch asked wearily, flipping the book closed and slipping it back into the pocket of his coat, then getting to his feet. "Still with the name thing, Mac?" Kurt asked wearily, frowning deeply. "'Til the day I die." Mitch responded, coming to a halt in front of Kurt, and finding that he had to lift his head slightly to meet the other boy's eyes. Flip, he's huge...
"Vince says ya must finish the job. Y'always sneakin' off after a kill. He don' like it, Mac. Y'know what ya gotta do."
Mitch sighed and nodded, so Krusher turned to walk back into the hospital, leaving Mitch to deal with the corpse of his latest victim...

The next day, the papers were full of his handiwork.


Naturally, Mitch was praised for this article, and his fame both within the gang and outside of it grew rapidly, but he could not say he was pleased. He still couldn't get the look on Kelly's eyes out of his head. She had begged for her life, begged, and he had killed her.
Mitch was dragged out of his thoughts when he heard a knock at the door. Glancing up, he saw Kurt standing there, a slip of paper in his hand.
"Handin' out gifts?" Mitch asked sarcastically. Kurt snorted and offered a dull chuckle. "Somethin' like that. Vince wants ya at th' ball thing t'night. T'get that Ria chick." Mitch frowned, shaking his head. "I don't do the kidnappin'." He objected stubbornly, "Why does Vince want me?"
"'E wrote that down, too." Kurt replied with a chuckle, "Here it is: 'Cuz you're the only one of us Wicken who's still got some class.'"
Mitch couldn't object to this, so he shrugged, and dismissed 'Krusher'.
Now... What to wear to a masquerade ball?

That night, Mitch slipped into the ball unnoticed. He wore an elegant black mask - Zorro style - and a smart black tuxedo beneath his usual victorian-style coat. The high collar brushed his short hair slightly, and the coat fell to below his ankles. It made him seem taller, and older, too. Mitch looked every inch a respectable gentleman.
A modern-day Prince Charming.
Just as Vince had planned.

((I need to know Ria's age and surname. My memory isn't that good. XD
Now remember - I can't do no-interaction posts, so this is my last one. Make sure you arrange something for this ball. XD Haha!))

((lol. She doesnt have that bigga boobs. Well. My character at least. Lol. Maricia Chastman and. She shall be 17 for this one. :3))

((Im on my phone. At 2:30 in the morning typing this up as i cant fall asleep. O.e. My parents made me go and see an NR rated movie. I think im scarred for life. And like. O.o Just never go and see an NR movie. -Did not like the movie at all- and the darn thing was subtitled too. -.-))

Ria slipped into her new dress, a huge smile on her face. She couldnt wait for the ball to start. Carefully she applied the finishing touches to her makeup and then headed out into the crowd of people. Her parents were already mingling with the visitors so she placed her feathery black masquerade mask upon her face, allowing it to cover most of her eyes before slipping into the actual ballroom with her punch in hand. Silently, she moved forwards, quite a few of her friends greeting her with hugs and warm smiles. She returned all of them, but didnt really feel like dancing. As she moved forwards one person tripped her by accidently stepping on the trail of her dress causing her drink to fly out of her hands and directly onto the back of a mans coat. A young man she guessed by the way he held himself and he seemed to be dressed up like Zorro. Biting her lip she immediately regained her balance, shoving her hair out of her eyes before looking up to him. "Im so sorry. I didnt mean to... I must have tripped over my dress..." she apologized, quite glad that her mask was hiding her blushing before she dropped her gaze to the now torn bottom seam of her dress.

((that work?))

((Hehe! XD

Eeek, sounds scary. O.o I just don't do creepy movies. *Shudders* Uck. They give me nightmares...

Anyway, hope you managed to get some sleep. ))

((Link to help your imagination. Only with an awesome Victorian-style coat and a slightly less gay mask. If that helps at all... Haha! XD ))

((What do you think of them being like, childhood friends or something? O.o ))

Feeling a splash of something cold on his back, Mitch shivered slightly - but unflappable as always, he did not jump.
He shrugged off the coat in a dignified fashion and draped it elegantly over his arm, then turned to face the girl, a charming smile lifting the corner of his sensual mouth. "It's not a problem." He replied, pronouncing each syllable properly, so that not even a hint of his colloquial accent showed. He had been a proper, well-spoken boy once. Although the gang had altered him, his true nature had not yet left him. That was exactly why Vince had picked him for this job...
Still, he felt like a dirty scumbag trying to charm his way into this girl's circle of trust, just so that he could take her away... The gang would do horrendous things to her, he knew that, and yet he was taking her to them... He, Mitch-
But wait, that was incorrect... It was not as Mitch that he was doing this, but as The Macabre. It was his job.
"Your drink is spilled, now." Mitch pointed out, with just the subtlest hint of polite flirting. "You'll have to let me buy you another." He smiled, and offered his hand - marvelling at the fact that, just the night before, the hand which he now held out with such gentlemanly gentility had wielded a gun. A gun which had, of course, ended a life.

((The movie wasn't a scary movie. e.e It was a romance mystery thing. The sex scenes scarred me. AND I closed my eyes through most of it because it was so disturbing. So I had no clue what the heck they were saying. o.o))

((Yes. I like that idea. ;3))

((-has no clue what colloquial means- -plays along-))


((Considering how this is a 'modern-day fairtytale' who is the 'prince charming' if Mitch is the evil person? xD Orrrr. Is he gonna be the 'prince-charming' and the gang be the evil people?))

((OH MY! O.o See, my innocent mind could not even comprehend... XD
Scary. *Shudders*

Yippeee!

"col·lo·qui·al/
Adjective: (of language) Used in ordinary conversation; not formal or literary." ))

Mitch smiled in response - a crooked sort of smile, that lifted just one side of his mouth, and forward friendly crinkles in his cheek. "My pleasure." He replied in a low hum, handing Ria the drink he had just ordered from the bar.
Naturally, he did not order one for himself. He had long since learned his lesson when it came to mixing drugs and alcohol, and though he was not high at that moment - he was not exactly far from it, either.
He waited for her to take a sip, then spoke.
"You're Ria, aren't you?" He asked quietly, still smiling. "See the paper this morning?" He let the smile slip from his face now, and continued in a solemn tone. "That poor girl, huh...? Kelly Smith..." He trailed off, gnawing his lip as though in uneasy grievance. "So many kidnappings lately..." He shuddered, and glanced back at Ria. "Are you frightened?"

((I'm still working with it, but I'm thinking that Mitch will start as a villain, then change tact, and Vince will take over as the main villain. XD ))

((o.o Yea. XD))

((ohhh. XD I kinda guessed that was what it was, but I wasn't totally sure. ;3))

((Date rape drug! XD))



((You would. xD))

((Date rape drug? O.o ))

When Ria mentioned the safety of her house, Mitch nodded approvingly - though inwardly he was cursing. That meant that tonight was literally his only chance... He couldn't mess it up. He was still lost in thought when Ria asked his name, so it took him a moment to reply, and when he did, it was with some surprise. "Oh, right... How rude of me." He chuckled softly, then returned Ria's smile and replied, "You may call me Mac."
He watched her for a moment, wondering if she would make the connection...
Just how well did you read that article, Ria?
Of course, he could never risk giving his true identity, but for some reason he didn't like the idea of lying, either. Somehow, using his alias made everything seem so much more... Real. He felt alive.

((I would what? XD

*Polo gets VERY slow after 11PM))

((LOL Place it in her drink, cause her to feel woozy and not really able to move much. And then kidnap her. ;3))

Ria bit her lip. Mac? Her whole body froze slightly. He didn't seem like the type of guy who would be The Macarabe. But. Could he? After all, she didn't really even know him. Maybe it was just because he seemed so familiar that she didn't want to connect the two. Taking in a few breaths she placed her drink down on the counter behind her. "Not like 'The Macarabe right?" she breathed, blinking once, feeling really ansy and immediately reaching for her drink again, managing to finish it off quickly as the fear took her over. She really wasn't so sure about this. She shifted her crossed legs before switching them and placing the now empty cup back on the counter

((You would make Mitch be soo mean in the beginning and then have a change of heart. -shakes head-))

((-is trying to get muse back-))

((Good plan. Hehe! ))

"The Macabre...?" Mitch repeated, in a convincing tone of confused disbelief. "No, no, of course not!" He laughed, "I just have an unfortunate name, as it were." He shrugged, then smiled and sighed wearily. "And if you still have your doubts, consider this: Would an infamous gangster wanted for Goodness knows how many crimes really waltz into a masquerade ball and openly introduce himself?" Mitch laughed and shook his head, then got to his feet.
"It's loud in here. What do you say we refill that drink, and take it outside?" He smiled encouragingly, a gently warmth in the small sections of his eyes that could be seen from behind the mask.
Oh yes, Big Mac had class... And he could act, no doubt about it. But would it be good enough...?
Even if it wasn't, Mitch was confident that his classic charm would finish the job. All he had to do was get Ria alone, make her take a sip of that refilled drink...

((Of course. XD DRAMA!! *Grins*

Don't you dare lose your muse, Abba. o_0 I worked way too hard for way too long coming up with this plot.

And I have to sleep now. -.- But give me a nice post, and I'll reply tomorrow. ))

((I know right. XD))

Ria nodded her head, the logic and the tone of his voice calming her right back down. He really did remind her of someone. Silently, she stood up, a bit wobbily in her heels as she had placed her feet down wrong getting off of the barstool. "Sounds nice." she murmered, in response to his offer to go outside. Blinking once she sighed. This mask had to come off soon, it was beginning to bug her immensly. After all. She had never really been the kind of girl who went and wore masks, or even such a big dress as this. Sighing she paused, "I'll meet you by the fountain. I just have to do something first..." she said with a tiny smile. This dress was bothering her, and her parents had said that she could always change halfway through the night. It was torn anyways. And they would highly discourage wearing torn clothing. Quickly, she shuffled up the stairs towards her room locking the door as she took her feathery mask off, then stripped down to just her underwear. She had quite a few dresses that would work for an occasion such as this. But, she would have to chose a shorter one, otherwise she would just trip again and make yet another fool of herself. Gently, she yanked her hair up into a twisty bun before opening her armuar (totally spelled that wrong. xD You know the coat holders that are wooden and open, but are really for clothes. o.o) and beginning to shift through each of her dresses. Finally, her eyes settled upon her gery taffeta sequined pin-up dress and she slid into it immediately. She slid her feet into her pair of black pumps with a grey bow before sitting infront of the mirror. Grasping one silver chopstick she rolled her hair up into a bun and shoved the chopstick in, allowing it to hold her hair in black. But, the chopstick was so small that it was hidden in her mass of hair. Which was a good thing, considering how she had one grey bow which she inserted right at the base of the bun. Carefully, she yanked her bangs out, allowing them to fall as they pleased before messing them up and placing her crystal heart necklace around her neck, with matching dangling earrings into her pierced ears. This was something her parents would approve of. Well, she would still need a mask. But, she really didn't want to wear one. So, against what her parents believed she finished up and unlocked her bedroom door before starting back down the stairs towards the backyard.

Quietly, she pushed through the masses of people. Her friends immediately swarming her with questions that she tried to answer quickly. But, her guy friend insisted upon following her out there. "I don't like the sound of a guy that goes by the name of 'Mac' after all these kidnappings. You aren't shaking me." he told her, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her tightly to his side. Rolling her eyes she wrapped her arm around his waist and leant into his chest. "Fine. But... he reminds me of someone I once knew. I really don't think he is that killer." she told Cameron as he followed where she was leading him. "I don't care, Ria-Bia. I'm not leaving your side until he goes." he said, going to ruffle her hair only to get his hand swatted away. "Do not mess up my hair!" she hissed, slitting her eyes at him and looking up at his five foot eleven, well muscled frame. "I swear. One day, I'm going to disown you from being one of my friends." she complained to him, only to have him cracking up laughing. "Now you would never do that sweetie." he retorted as they neared closer to the fountain. Sighing quietly, she looked around for Mac, wondering if he was having just as much trouble getting out here as she had.

((Yes. I know. It does add Drama.))

((o.o I got some of it back, obviously. xD))

((I would just like to say, I hate you. xD))

((Wow, that dress is MUCH shorter. XD

And congrats on the muse! Good post.

Lastly, don't hate me, hate the exams. I'd have stayed up if I wasn't writing. :/ ))

For a moment Mitch considered yanking Ria back, not allowing her to leave, in case she didn't return - but if he did that, the game would be up. It would be too suspicious...
She was under his charm now. She would come back... She would come walking right into death's arms.
So he let her go, and made his way outside to the fountain - her drink clasped lightly in his hand. When he was sure nobody was looking, he sprinkled a fine white powder into it.
He had to admit, he felt guilty about this. Something about Ria seemed to jiggle a faraway place in his memory...
As he was trying to work out what it was, Mitch heard voices, and he turned - watching the approach of Ria and the newcomer with a gentle smile, although inwardly he was seething. This was going to complicate matters greatly... But no matter, he would keep his composure, and simply win over the boy's trust as well.

"You look lovely, Ria." He greeted her with a polite nod, his smile holding the same gentle warmth as before. "And who is your friend?" He added, glancing toward the boy and holding out his hand. "Maxwell Hathaway." He said by way of introduction, deciding to use his full name first, since the boy already seemed somewhat wary. "But call me Mac." He accompanied this with a crooked grin - more playful than polite - showing a little more of the fake personality he had created for himself.
"Unfortunate nickname, isn't it?" He commented, arranging his features into a slightly sheepish expression.
He shook the boy's hand - his grip just firm enough to earn respect, but not so firm that it should seem threatening - then he turned back to Ria.
Suddenly, he was struck by a shock. Without that mask, she looked so... So familiar. Like a part of the life he had almost forgotten. He knew her, he knew he did, but he couldn't put a finger on it... Ah, well.
"Your drink, Ria." He said politely, offering her the dainty little glass.
He wasn't sure how this was going to work... The spare would make it difficult. Naturally, Mitch could get rid of him easily enough - he was the Macabre, after all - but it would lead to a risk of discovery. If he was caught, he'd definitely have a life sentence to face, and The Wicken sure as Hell wouldn't bust him out. In fact, they'd probably sneak in and kill him for ruining their reputation.
Well, he was just going to have to make sure that did not happen.

((Need to get her kidnapped soonish, or I'll run out of ideas. ))

((Woot. That took me too long. Sorry. I was trying to do a lot of things at once and had to stop and reread what I had put, and what you had put. XD Hopefully it'll work. ;3))

((No worries. ))

"So long, Cameron." Mitch murmured quietly, nodding to the boy as he turned to leave.
Perfect! He was in luck today.
Once Cameron was safely out of sight, Mitch turned his attention back to Ria. They were alone now, and she was drinking. The time had come.
In response to Ria's question, Mitch smiled mysteriously, and began stepping gradually nearer to her as he saw her sit unsteadily on the edge of the fountain.
"Just one thing." He replied, a faintly amused smile lifting his lips.
He could see the drowsiness in Ria's expression, and he knew that - within moments - she'd be useless as a wax doll.
That was why it was safe to answer her question...
He leaned toward her, his breath warm and moist on her neck as he whispered quietly into her ear.
"I am The Macabre." His smirk shifted into a devious grin as he sensed unconsciousness gripping Ria.
"Goodnight, Ria.

With that, he flung the girl's limp body over his shoulder, and fled the scene - making a yarley escape.
Mitch was clever, and he was quick on his feet. It did not take him long to get Ria into the hands of the waiting gang members - and by the time people were beginning to notice the kidnapping, Mitch and the rest of The Wicken were already safely enclosed in their getaway car - which escaped into the darkness with a screech of rubber, and a thick cloud of black smoke.

When they arrived back at the old hospital, Mitch flung Ria over his shoulder once more, and carried her effortlessly into her allotted room.
He set her down on the squeaky old hospital bed, then seated himself on the stool in the corner, waiting patiently for her to wake, with the worn burgundy book nestled snugly in his lap.

((My posts are getting shorter. -fail-))

((Don't worry about it, I can't keep up the long posts, anyway.

And don't worry, it took me ages to get the hang of the spelling. Thank you Google Toolbar Spellcheck!! ))

Mitch glanced up as he sensed Ria stirring. Naturally, he was unmasked now - and he had put his coat back on.
When Ria questioned him, Mitch's eyes darted briefly to the security camera in the corner.
He had to do this according to plan, just as always before...
"Before I answer your questions, let me do the talking." He said quietly, brushing Ria's question aside.
Then, like a stuck record, he began repeating the same speech he used for every one of his kidnap victims.
"You are in the hands of The Wicken now, and you will remain here with us until such time as your ransom has been paid. If not..." With a cruel chuckle, Mitch drew his finger across his throat to demonstrate.
"But that's for your parents to worry about... All you have to do is comply with our wishes, and we'll get along just fine."
He paused a moment to smirk in amusement at this thought, then went on.
"Anyway, for as long as you're here, you'll be my responsibility. Thus, it's up to me to explain to you how our little 'game' here works..." He raised the little book, 'Grimm's Fairytales' glittering brightly in the dull light of the stuffy room. "After tonight, the only time I may speak to you is when reading this book. For 30 minutes each day, I'll be reading a fairytale to you. And when said fairytale comes to an end..." Another devious chuckle, "So do you."

Nonchalant as ever, Mitch rolled himself a doobie, and lifted it to his lips - then lit it, letting the pungent smoke waft around the room.
"So, now it's your turn. Anything you want to ask or say - do it now, because after tonight, I won't be saying a single word unless it's written in these pages." Once again, Mitch gestured toward the worn little book.

He felt a little guilty... Why did he feel guilty...?

Ria's whole body froze. "What? But... You can't be the same person." she whispered, her whole body still shivering as she lay there. "What do you mean comply to your wishes? Is it just stay silent? Please tell me that's all it is..." she choked out, her motor skills slowly coming back. She couldn't believe she was in the hands of the Wicken. She had just told this person she felt safe with her parents security system. She should have trusted Cameron, and not told him to leave. "I will get to go home if my parents pay right? You won't keep me here... after?" she whispered, trying to think of her questions as she lay there, trying to find a way to get warm to no avail.

((xD I'm really trying to think here. And I'm hoping it's working. I've never had to play out her kidnapping))

"I'm a good actor." Mitch retorted, flashing a dazzling smile. He noticed Ria's shivering, and without really thinking, shrugged off his coat and tossed it over her.
Wait... Why did I do that?
He froze a moment, frowning in confusion. He had never showed kindness to a victim before... Not like that. What was wrong with him...?
Shrugging off his worries, Mitch went on working through Ria's questions.
"You are to comply with our wishes, whatever those may be." He offered a deadly smirk, "Personally, I'm not likely to ask you for much - but I can't say the same for the others. They've been looking forward to your arrival for weeks... And the same goes for the release, really. If it were up to me..." He trailed off, suddenly realising what he was doing.
He was setting himself apart from the gang - as though he was less of a scumbag than the rest of them. Why... Why would he do that? Oh, whatever.
"Well, whatever Vince decides, that's what happens. We gotta let our victims go sometimes, else nobody would pay - but we can't have too many out there blabbing, either. Some lose their sanity and go mute. We release them, then." An image of Kelly flashed unbidden across his mind. "Well, usually..."

At that moment, the door swung open, and Greg walked in - a wide grin on his face. "Yo, Big Mac!" He greeted his friend, "Still with the voice?"
Mac raised one eyebrow, "Still with the face?"
"Touche..." Greg replied with a laugh. "So is this the new one?" He gazed curiously at Ria, as though she was a new exhibit at a zoo.
"You shouldn't be here." Mitch snapped ferociously, causing Greg to flinch slightly. "Okay, okay, man... I just wanted to see..."
"There's nothing to see here, Greg."
"Right... I knew that..."
He crept out of the room once more, closing and locking the door behind him. Mitch watched this with sharp eyes, then turned his attention back to Ria.