Random Line Generator For Ciaran

[Ezra Huntington]

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Ciaran O'Malley

[Ciaran O'Malley]

"I WANT TO BE THERE WHEN YOU GET WHAT'S COMING TO YOU." 

Ciaran O'Malley growls in the face of Ezra Huntington.  His arms are already cuffed behind him, but he's so fucking angry.  How does he get caught out of the group of them that were fighting?  It was like Hunt had it fucking out for him.  What was so special about him, huh?  There were others fighting.  It wasn't the first time he was targeted by the bow street running.  Slade'll get him out of this, naturally -- Reuben wouldn't leave him behind.  Right?

So he grins, mouth bloody as he stands before the officer.  The rage is sickly and evil, radiating from deep inside him.  "I want to watch them rip you to shreds.  You and your honor. Do you feel high and fucking mighty?"  He steps into Hunt's face, unafraid of him.  "I can't wait for those dogs out there to tear you to pieces. . . and watch you scream in horror."  He growls, akin to a dog himself, rabid and dangerous.  "An' then you'll wish you were good to me."  

And then. . . he spits in his face.

Tagging: Ezra Huntington
Notes: Oopsie!

[Ezra Huntington]

Tag: Ciaran O'Malley

you can run

BUT YOU'LL DIE TIRED

If there was one thing that Ezra Huntington despised . . . it was an unsolved investigation. Particularly when he knew the person -- or persons responsible -- and could not find any evidence to directly link them. It was infuriating . . . as Ezra often felt an itch in his brain that he could not scratch. So this, landed a perfect opportunity to gain some leverage. Though Hunt knew he could not keep him in the cell for long, it would be long enough to demonstrate that he could. And that he could get to them. And that . . . he would get to them. But the man was certainly not coming easily, which Ezra had not suspected he would.

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Yelling threats and hopes of violent attacks to befall him. Ezra watched the crazed man, yelling, growling, his arms restrained only seeming to further provoke him. Which, suited Hunt just fine. For right now, they had the upper hand. Hunt did not care for the others involved in the fight; they were of no consequence. No. His objective was to get to a certain crime lord and well, he knew all about O'Malley and the nature of his business. But, as earlier established and something Hunt loathed to admit . . . he had no damning evidence to incriminate them. The Bow Street Runner closed his eyes for a moment when O'Malley finished off his verbal bouts of anger by spitting on him. His eyes staying closed for a brief moment before locking eyes with the Irishman once more.

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A flicker of a half smile formed on his face for what could be considered less than a second, before he pulled out his baton and in one swift motion, thrust it into the gangster's stomach with forcible might. Ezra then quickly raised it to hit one side of Ciaran's face before hitting him again on the other side. The others did nothing, well aware of Hunt's ways. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a cloth to wipe the spit from his face before looking back at the Irishman, stepping close to him; incredibly close. "When the day comes that you will be hanging from the noose, I will be right there in the front row to make certain, that my face is the last you will ever see." His voice was calm but there was a threat in it; a vow, as Hunt then scrunched up the cloth he used to wipe himself, and forced it into Ciaran's mouth.

[Ciaran O'Malley]

THE SMACK KNOCKS THE AIR RIGHT OUT OF HIM.  Ciaran doubles over in visible pain, choking out as the wind flies right out of his lungs.  He has no time to recover as the baton smacks him on the head.  He stumbles  --  only to get smacked the other way.  The Irishman staggers, dazed momentarily by the hits.  He wheezes, catching himself on the brick wall in the alleyway.  He blows out a deep breath, trying to get the air back in his lungs.  His head rings from the attack.  Honestly, he probably deserves this.  He started it.  

But ooooh, how it riles him.  Ciaran's nose snarls as Huntington gets real close.  Ha -- the gallows!  Imagine the Runner had enough to convict him.  But just as Ciaran goes to respond, the rag is shoved into his mouth.  He makes a confused noise around it, grumbling as the cloth silences him.  "Mmm --"  He growls, tugging at the cuffs holding his wrists trapped behind him.  He glares at Ezra, breathing heavily through his nose.  Is he nervous?  Is Ciaran O'Malley actually nervous right now?  

He hasn't been used to this feeling of helplessness in a long time.  He twists his wrists, trying to get free.  "Hmm -- mmrr -- "  He grumbles, letting out a heated sigh through his nose.  Dark blue eyes look over the Bow Street Runner, and he considers. . . Fuck it.  Ciaran sets his feet firmly on the ground before throwing his head forward at full force, trying to knock his forehead into Ezra's face. 

Tagging: Ezra Huntington