Playing the Part of Dad [open]

[Illiam Berk]

Okay, so Illiam Berk sometimes had no idea what he was doing in regards to his daughters. The man tried. Lord, did he ever. He tried and Lord did he sometimes fail. But the effort was there, right? The large man could take out just about anyone that got in his or his employer’s way, but these kids? These two girls? Ill may as well have been going about blindfolded as he was being ushered down the street by a ten year old that barely made it to her 6’7” father’s belt while a fortunate five year old was perched on his shoulders. It was a day before school started back up and Illiam was left with the task of getting new uniforms for his children.

“Dad c’mon!” Dani instructed as she yanked her burly father through the crowd.

“Hey, hey. Where’s the fire kid?” he replied with a wide grin, feeling at least somewhat normal for the time being while Ava kept trying to play with her hair. He had waited until the last minute and, seriously, they would probably be lucky if they found anything good. His eldest daughter was now at that age where she had to have the right condition of uniform and the right backpack to be considered acceptable by social standards. Dani, who was still in daycare, was just along for the awesome piggyback ride. “Easy! It’s not like the store’s gonna run out. That kinda stuff is all they carry.”

Dani rolled her eyes and released her father’s hand and started plowing through the throngs of people. Immediately, Illiam pulled Ava from his shoulders and tucked the girl under his arm. He started barreling after Dani, who was not entirely sure where she was heading. All the while, Ava giggled. “Dani wait!” he called after her as he sped up before finally finding the raven haired little girl and looking down at her; his large hand clasping around her bicep. “Don’t you ever do that again, you got it?” he barked softly as if it were a dog’s warning; his expression serious before he glanced over his shoulder to see the wake of those that had gotten in his way.

[Mario Falcone]

The air was hot and sticky in Gotham that bright August day. Men who genuinely preferred to be seen in high powered business suits were often seen foregoing the formality in the name of keeping cool, short sleeved dress shirts replacing white collar silk button downs and light colored khaki was the new navy blue wool blend. Mario Falcone loved a pricey floor length overcoat and occasionally even the stereotypical mobster fedora, but today was no day for those. He instead walked through the streets in ridiculously expensive loafers, designer jeans, and a plain black t-shirt. One couldn't look like a rich daddy's boy chump all the time, now could he?

His business out and about would probably be classified by most people under the 'pleasure' category, but Mario could honestly say that he got more pleasure out of his business than his current employment: shopping for a woman. There was a certain charm to influencing high power Gothamites well, and one particular cougar who owned half of industrial Gotham it only took Mario's good looks and impeccable eye to get things going his way. It was more than she deserved, but he was adaptable. He would do what needed to be done, even if he needed to take a shower after. Ah, here he was. The jeweler he was looking for was coming up.

But he was distracted by a stupid brat being chased after by a harried looking father. He narrowly avoided being pushed aside, and growled with annoyance. "They make leashes for that!" he called after the man, nothing but an anonymous heckler on the street, but no sooner did his eyes light on the passer by than they narrowed like a wolf who suddenly catches the scent of a wounded animal. Oh yeah. Now they were talking.

A base smirk tainting his handsome features, Mad Mario made his way to the man, largely amused. "Well what have we here?" he asked as he approached, careful not to make his voice sound too honest, too creepy. Illiam didn't need to hear his intentions to know he was a little crazy, and he didn't want to scare the little girls. They would be more useful, in fact, if they took a shine to him. "Illiam, wasn't it?" he asked, gesturing to the man with a false smile that would seem genuine to any who didn't know him well. He then turned his attention entirely to Dani. "And who are you?" he asked, folding his hands genteelly in front of himself as he looked at the little lady who had been rushing ahead, his head bent and tilted to make himself appear more on her level. The glint of cruelty in his dark eyes might have been lost on a child of her age.