Throughout the city darkness had fallen over, a slight mist dusting the air as the streets lamps dimly tried to light up the city walkways for the occasional person trying to make there home, being the east side of the concrete jungle it was quite a barren place where most stayed safe in warm houses while snakes came out into the night. Though the pests did not dare bother the blonde male dressed in white and orange as he walked down the streets, his tailcoat flowing slightly behind him as he paced leisurely towards his own home but it was still quite a way yet. Turning down into a alleyway as a short cut like he had every single night his eyes scanned the familiar route behind the thick orange specs, it had seemed like new graffiti had made its way onto the wall in his favorite colour so he didn't mind the filth written too much. His footing soon slowed to a halt as he felt his stomach sank, his hand quickly moving into his coat to pull out his revolver just in case. The smooth wooden work of his gun came into show, the gold along it slightly shimmering in the moonlight as his blue eyes shifted to the side, turning around. Time seemed to slow as before he could lift his gun to aim. Before he could run. Before he could widen his eyes. Before he could even speak or breath a word. Coldness ran through his skin. The impact of the metal making him fall backwards towards the sewer like ground. Staining the proud Ó Raghailigh look. Against the dark grey cobbles crimson red flowed down the cracks, slowly turning from warm to cold. Blue eyes staring up towards the moon with no gleam to them. Red painting itself along the white of the shoulders, against the pale skin neck, into the bright blonde and orange hair. More of the red liquid sliding down from his forehead, his cheekbones, his jaw, until cascading off to his neck or the pool on the floor as footsteps faded away into the cloak of the night. By the time the sun had risen up the Ó Raghailigh lay in waiting of a funeral which had been swiftly arranged for the following day thanks to one of their own family finding Connor and taking him to a morgue under there control so no questions were asked. The death spreading like wild fire through the kirklands four families causing a sweeping of sadness across all houses but the news hit two harder then the others. Douglas Carmichael and Owen Gwilliam. Both had almost seen the boy as a son, looking after him as much as they could with growing affection and pride. The two in their separate parts of the city, dealing with it in their own different ways. Owen was in the Gwillam family house curled up under a blanket on the couch with Gwen, Dylan and Erin by his side to comfort and help him get through it the best they could as the raven haired male cried out for hours on hours muttering stories and memories which only cause him to hurt more, like the bullet was taken to his own head. Douglas Carmichael on the other hand had locked himself in his office, ordering no one disturbed him at all no matter what, to which all of them obeyed. Behind the white closed door the man stayed sat at his desk with his head in his hands, his normally professional appearance in ruin. His chocolate wavy brown hair wasn't tied back like normal and messily hung down to cover his face, his jacket was slung over his chair instead of cleanly folded, the sleeves to his pale pink shirt rolled up instead of perfectly straight down his arm, his javat tossed onto the desk not neatly around his neck. The man who never showed any weakness broken against his desk silently crying rivers down onto the wood. His forever intelligent clockwork mind blank and at a stop. Douglas had stayed like that for hours, even when the night fell once again he stayed there, alone in his office. His whole being had now gone numb as he now tried to work out why it happened and who dared pull the trigger, after all he wasn't about to let this slide by any means. Trying to find back to anything Connor had said to him at dinner just before the boy walked home. Anything at all. He was willing some clue to be in there, there had to be, it was Connor, there just had to be a clue. Anything. Something. He was willing it with his might. Hands flew down to the desk as the brunette stood up, pushing his chair back as his mind clicked on, yes this had to be it, it had to. He had remembered Connor mentioning something about Sean causing trouble with the reapers and having to see the boss about it, that had to be it. Glancing over to the clock above the door he grimaced at the time, there was no way he was going to be able to speak to the boss at this time in the morning. Biting his lip he picked up his stuff and decided to head to his own personal house for some sleep, promising himself and Connor he would speak to the boss at the funeral. He would find out who did this. He would make them pay with there own heart to replace the one they killed even if it killed himself he would. Thick heavy clouds broke as the rain crashed down onto the pavements, grass and mud of the cemetery. Stood around the gravestone all the main family boss wore black with a single orange flower in there jacket pockets, everyone else had left their respects and made their way back to either work or home. All three under black umbrellas stayed in silence, each a bit afraid on what to say next as they all knew what conversation was to be had. Caleb was the first to clear his throat and speak "well, now we can talk about who takes his place" as the words left his mouth Douglas sent the man a glare this was not a conversation he was going to like and he knew it, thankfully Erin Gwilliam spoke to try and cheer the mood "please we can speak about that later under shelter, I think you know Caleb what is wanted to be discussed" her voice did seem to sooth the air a little though Douglas wasn't about to just cheer up "I agree let's talk about who we think did this and why, I am unsure about you to but I think I have a lead" the two turned there attention to him, Erin looking a bit solemn as Caleb nodded for him to continue. "Well I was at dinner with him, just before, and Connor mention about having to deal with a Sean a few weeks ago. Apparently he had done something to upset the reapers and by the newspapers I can take a good guess that this Sean did the murder" his voice had dropped down into a slight whisper as he spoke the other two following suit as Caleb respond. "Listen Sean did a runner out of the city and we had a deal with the reapers as long as the murder was taken care of it nothing more would happen. As far as they know the murders is dead in a ditch" "might be true but Douglas still holds a point" "if they believed the murder was taken care off then they wouldn't have killed Connor" "Douglas it could have been Sean" "No Connor wouldn't have been killed easily by some-" The conversation was interrupted by the sound of Douglas phone ringing, sighing the man moved his spare hand into his pocket and pulled out the mobile, flicking it open and placing it near his ear "What is it Alistair" a moment paused by before the brunette frowned his brow together yelling "WHAT!"