Realistic or Modern Gangs of Birmingham: A New War - IC [Closed]

[Misty Gray]

Gangs of Birmingham: A New War
IC Start Date: Sunday 29th August 1982

IC THREAD



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1. Misty Gray and ReverseTex are the GMs. All new players/submissions will need to be approved by both of us.
2. Please only join if you can commit to posting at least once per week and intend to stick around long-term!
3. Romance is a wonderful thing and I encourage it, but fade to black if things become sexual.
4. This is an advanced/literature RP. Please try to write 3+ paragraphs per post.
5. Profanity is acceptable, within reason. No need to make it excessive.
6. Please be aware, the RP will deal with mature themes (violence, threats, drugs and other subjects you'd expect from this genre).

 

[Misty Gray]

Chapter 1 - Birthdays and Betrayals
- Sunday 29th August 1982 -
1. Afternoon - Sunny, Hot, Clear Skies
2. Evening - Warm, Clear skies

***************

Walker Holiday Mansion
- Buxton, Peak District National Park, England -
- Afternoon -

Robert Walker and Alexander Möhren​

Six years ago, Robert would not have expected to be in the position he was now. After his wife, Caroline, had been killed, he wasn't sure if he'd ever be happy again. For a while, he'd been filled with hatred and darkness. A desire for revenge; to make Aidan Jones and anybody else who crossed the Walkers suffer. But with Richard's far more moral guidance and urges for peace, Robert put thoughts of war and violence aside, to instead come to a peace deal with Aidan. For the first couple of years, he remained suspicious and cautious of the Jones family's motives. As time went on, the deal had for the most part worked, albeit Aidan's habit of rubbing people up the wrong way coming into play, along with his overestimation of what he was entitled to.

On a personal level, Robert spent the first two years as a widow trying his hardest to let life go on. Sure, Alfie married Bonnie and made him a grandfather, and he was never short of family and friends, particularly in the form of Richard and Dean. Those around him had kept him strong and with the living when they were there. Business kept him occupied and alert. But when it came down to it, he still wasn't himself. Eventually, he'd started seeing a therapist. From his torture during the Second World War to the present day, he was never short of issues to talk about.

Over recent years, things have improved greatly. Today highlighted just how much he had to live for and to smile about. It was his brother's birthday and his closest family and friends were all together. Over recent years, he'd permitted himself to find happiness again, romantically, in the form of Lisa Evans. His grandchildren and Felicity's engagement gave him a new lease of life, reminding him he still had plenty to live for.

Today was a special day, as it was Richard's birthday. Robert had wanted to help bring everyone together for the celebration. Of the Walker residences and vacation homes, the mansion in the Peak District was by far his favourite. It was perfect to hold such a party and having plenty of bedrooms had meant those attending could make a full weekend of it. With security tightly in place back in Birmingham, Robert had no doubts they could all relax. But before the fun could start, business could never be completely avoided, so he brought Richard, Alfie and Alex together for a catch up.

Unlike most of the family and friends who had already been at the mansion since Friday, Alex had remained in Birmingham to take care of business. It was by now a natural part of his life to be stretched across the city, the country, and sometimes even overseas. But with his meetings back home completed, he was finally able to join Maria and their twin boys at the party. When he arrived at the mansion, he hadn't had the chance to find his wife and kids before been summoned by the boss for a catch up. Business hardly stopped, it seemed. He preferred it that way, as he wanted to remain focused before Nigel and Isaac sought him out, commanding his parental attention. After that, he would permit himself to switch off from work mode. He looked up to Richard and thought highly of his mentor, so he wanted to ensure the man enjoyed every bit of his special day.

Wishing to avoid distractions, Robert led the other three men on a short walk away from the mansion. It was a warm day and as their walk threatened to take them on his favourite hiking path, he spared them an unplanned workout by pointing to a wooden picnic table they could sit at. There wasn't another person in sight, allowing them to be surrounded by the countryside in peace. Robert sat beside Alife, with Richard and Alex across the table from them.

Having already wished his brother a happy birthday, Robert was able to naturally slip into business talk. He would give him his present once the party started later. "You picked a good weekend to have a birthday," Robert joked, enjoying the heat of the sunshine. "Naturally, we have business to talk about, so now is a good time to get it off of our chests with us all together," he said. His eyes first fell on Alex.

"The meeting with Aidan went as well as expected," Alex began. His posture was poised as ever. His voice and tone assured, calm, and collected. It wasn't often his tone shifted when business was concerned. He was a controlled man, at times stoic, but his focused attitude was what had helped him succeed in his tasks. He didn't like Aidan. Even though he hadn't been around during the man's reign of terror, nor held personal disdain towards him, it was an objective fact to him that the man was toxic. Still, Alex was always able to maintain his neutral demeanour when it came to business. "There was nothing at the shipping yard that stood out as contravening the agreement. However, he said some things which suggested to me that he's not content with what he has in Birmingham. I challenged him on that and reminded him to stay in his place, to focus his ambition in Wales, if he must. I propose you hold a meeting with him to remind him of the agreement, in no uncertain terms," he put forward, glancing to Alfie but keeping his focus on Robert.

"Thank you, Alex. I think a meeting is a good idea. Personally, my patience is wearing thin with him," Robert told the others. He suspected Aidan was already breaking the terms of the deal in some way and so he intended to get more eyes on him now. Before asking Alfie for his updates, Robert wanted to stay on the matter of Aidan for a moment longer. "What do you think about the Aidan issues, Richard?" he asked, looking across at his brother.

Interactions: ReverseTex (Richard) BasDorcha (Alfie)

Walker Holiday Mansion
- Buxton, Peak District National Park, England -
- Afternoon -

Felicity Walker​

Times like these didn't come often enough for Felicity. She'd had a weekend without thinking about work and her family were all together. After her mother's death, she wasn't sure some of those closest to her would be happy again. Though her younger self might have been inclined to vocalise disapproval and distaste towards Lisa, Felicity didn't feel that way now. Her father had struggled emotionally after Caroline's death. Whilst he became more focused and determined in business, he hadn't been himself on a personal level. So now seeing him genuinely smiling and looking happy again, she could hardly begrudge him of his relationship with Lisa. It seemed like more than a fling on the face of it and Felicity was sure she would have more opportunity to grill Lisa to ascertain her intentions.

On top of the positive spirits amongst the family, they were being treated to warm and sunny weather. Felicity usually had to travel abroad for this kind of weather, and most those times it was for work. Seated at one of the patio tables, Felicity had pulled up a footstool to rest her legs on to catch the sun's rays. Beside her sat her fiancé, Graham. After a sip of ice-cold water, she turned to look at him. Propping her sunglasses up onto her head, she smiled as her eyes met his. "I'm starting to wonder if we should have had a summer wedding. Not that we could ever guarantee this kind of weather," she commented. With their wedding two months away, Felicity was feeling additional pressure on that front. Even though she was beyond experienced in planning and hosting events, there was more stress involved when it was her own wedding. And even though she was organised and way above schedule, it didn't stop her mind from continuing to repeat over plans in case anything had been missed or a new idea sprang to mind.

Felicity hadn't missed noticing her father, brother, uncle, and Alex all heading off away to no doubt discuss business. She never had any doubt she inherited from Robert the inability to switch off from business. However, recent years have led her to ensuring she does switch off. Inheriting the Reynolds business meant she had to stop running Robert's hotels in order to focus on that alone. Even with Richard's help and guidance, there were times her new role took a lot out of her, especially when it called for her to travel overseas for meetings.

But what made Felicity start taking more time away from work was Graham. Getting to know and fall in love with Graham had allowed her to break her walls down. She stopped using work as a safety net to protect her from getting hurt and instead took a risk with her heart. It paid off as she'd never felt as truly happy as she did now she had someone to love and share her life with.

As it happened, business wasn't completely of her mind, in the sense she needed to point something out to Graham that should keep the subject away from the family event. "If my dad tries to to fish for information, whatever you do, don't tell him about Cairo," she reminded him. Before heading away this weekend, Felicity had received final details about her next important overseas meeting. Being that Robert had suffered during his time stationed in Cairo during the war, she knew it was going to be a controversial matter. "I know it might be awkward, and he can deal with me if it comes to it. But for now I'm determined to finish this weekend without an argument," she said. Regardless of his response, she still sent Graham an innocent, playful pout, following by a bright smile.

BeyondDandy (Graham)

Tony & Julia Fletcher's Home
- Aston, Birmingham, England -
- Afternoon -

Tony Fletcher​

As the football rolled towards him, Tony moved towards it, albeit slower than he really could have, secretly allowing the ball to land in the goal. "Matty scores!" he called out to his son, raising his hands into the air to celebrate. "You'll be playing for Villa before we know it," he enthused, mentioning Aston Villa, the team he supported.

Looking down the large garden towards the patio door of the house, Tony saw one of his employees standing there. When the man beckoned him over, Tony groaned. "What now," he muttered under his breath. "Alright, kiddo. I'm defeated and it's red hot out here. Time to head back inside and cool down a bit. Go upstairs, stinky, and change out of that sweaty gear," he teased.

Whilst the boy rushed inside, Tony kept his pace slow and steady as he approached Damon. "You just interrupted the cup final. It had better be important," he drily remarked.

"There was more trouble down at Mr. Ganger's bakery again. Smashed window and a mess made inside," Damon explained. "Third time in a couple of weeks."

"For fuck..." Tony said in exasperation. "Alright. Get a couple of lads together to fix the place up, have the window repaired, and all that. And we'll compensate old Granger with a couple of months rent on the house." Whilst Damon nodded, it was clear the man wasn't satisfied with the course of action. Tony knew why. "Was it the same group of lads again?" he asked, to which Damon quickly nodded. "Then get the two ringleaders, rough them up, and put the fear of God into them. Tell the lanky piss-stains they're dead next time."

"I'll get to it now. It'll be a pleasure," Damon confirmed. There were other matters Tony needed to get on top of, but this was a start. Just as he turned to leave, Damon stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Also, you have a guest," he was quick to add.

When Tony entered the house, he sought out Julia and found her with Grady in the living room. "Alright, babe," he said, moving in to kiss his wife on the lips. He then looked between Julia and Grady with a quizzical expression. "I ain't offering you a kiss, mate, but do you want a beer or anything?" he addressed his brother-in-law in a relaxed manner.

Interactions: neverbackdown (Julia) BeyondDandy (Grady)

Apartment Block
- Ladywood, Birmingham, England -
- Evening -

Joseph Worthington​

With the Walkers and Fletchers now in an alliance, there were inevitably times when they had shared trash to take out. Today had been one such day. It had been a long afternoon for him as he stood around the flat watching his colleague, Kane, interrogate the resident. They knew without a doubt the man had been stealing from one of the warehouses. The only reason his death wasn't a quick one was the need to find out who else was involved. Two names and a lot of pain later, they had what was needed. They also ended up with dead body bleeding onto the rug and hardwood floor nearby. No amount of plastic sheeting could have prevented the guy from attempting to flee and getting blood where they hadn't accounted for it.

This was as much a Fletcher problem as it was the Walkers, which meant Penny had been called to manage the clean up. Whilst Kane kept watch outside, Joseph had to stay in the flat with Penny. He could help but think back to an interaction earlier that morning. His daughter, Rhiannon, had shown up on his doorstep last year and was living with him since. She knew from her mother that he was involved in shady business, but she didn't quite understand to what level. Chauffeuring the Walkers and providing them with security was as much as his daughter needed to know. She certainly didn't need to understand what he was doing right now. Standing around in some dead guy's flat, wearing latex gloves as he assisted with cleaning up a murder scene he'd helped to create.

"This was meant to be a quick clean up," Joseph told Penny. "But then this guy here," he said, pointing to the corpse now tightly bundled and wrapped in plastic, "he had other ideas. Maybe he thought you needed to earn some extra pay," he joked. "I hope you haven't made plans for this evening," he added, aware this was a longer job than intended.

BasDorcha (Penny)

The Fox and Hounds Pub
- Ladywood, Birmingham, England -
- Evening -

Hannah Pearson​

Living in a public house meant Hannah was never short of interactions when the place was open. Even so, she made sure to maintain a healthy balance between work and life. Today, she'd had lunch with friends before heading out to the gym for a workout. After having a shower, she went downstairs to the bar to help her staff with running the place for the evening. Even though it was a Sunday, it tended to get quite busy. When many of her frequent customers didn't subscribe to the typical 9-5 work patterns, they weren't exactly help back by the idea of early Monday morning starts.

The balshie customer giving her young barmaid grief didn't go unnoticed by Hannah. Moving to stand beside her employee, Hannah looked across the bar at the heavy set man and forced him to make eye-contact with her. "What's the problem here?"

"I was just complimenting this young lady and the stuck up lass took offence," the man explained in a cocky manner.

"It didn't sound like a compliment. Sounded like you were being crude towards a woman way out of your league." She took the cash he'd placed on the bar and slid it back towards him. "Sling your hook. You're not welcome in here. Get out!" she firmly commanded.

A mixture of Hannah's firm insistence and the fact some of the regulars were now staring the man down meant the guy left the pub without resistance, simply muttering some expletives under his breath.

NanLia (Frankie)

Active Cast: Misty Gray ReverseTex neverbackdown BasDorcha BeyondDandy NanLia NightSky AriAriAbabwa Bearly

 

[ReverseTex]

Chapter 1 - Birthdays and Betrayals
- Sunday 29th August 1982 -
Late Evening - Nighttime, Warm, Clear Skies

***************

The Horizon Lounge
- Downtown Birmingham, England -
Misty Gray

Paddy Crane
​

It had to work. He had full confidence it would, but this was a big step. A clear, targeted move, as if he was making the first move of a queen’s gambit.

He had faith. In his boys, in himself, in his beliefs. There would be no turning back after this. This was a necessary evil to achieve utopia… Paddy snapped himself from thought, watching the streetlights whiz by him in a slow blur. He rarely frequented the nice side of town; there wasn’t much of a need. Except for tonight. His meeting with Aidan Jones was important enough to drag him from the docks and gym, forcing him to polish up. Hell, he even had a suit fitted for the occasion, considering the last one he owned was well over twenty years old and unaccommodating for his lumbering frame. Plus, he needed to cover up the various tattoos he picked up on the inside. For the special occasion, he had to blend in with the men he hated. The only thing he missed was a tie, which he’d never be caught dead in. A proper noose, he thought, ensnaring its wearer like pigs ready for slaughter

His car crawled to a stop outside Aidan’s club, Horizon. “Appreciate the lift, mate.” Paddy nodded, handing his driver a firm wad of cash. “Oh boss, I can’t—” The driver tried to interrupt and pass the cash back. “It’s yours. I’ll always tip you, mate, like it or not.” He insisted. Though his driver was on payroll, it simply felt wrong not to do so. Plus, money was merely a means to an end. It didn’t matter to him. “Use it for the girls' school supplies or something.” He clasped the man’s shoulder from the back seat. The men he employed didn’t always have the chance to provide for their families; employment after incarceration was tough to find these days. Anytime he could help out, he was glad to. “Is everything in London still on track?” He inquired, the light in his tone hardening. “Aye. The boys sent a call from the marked phone booth saying they went out for a stroll before they’d drive back tonight. The other lot is en route to the hotel.” The driver nodded, cryptic in nature.

Paddy nodded, satisfied with the clues. He knew what they meant, and that’s all that mattered. “You know what to do.” He affirmed ambiguously before stepping out of the car. Immediately, the sound of club music and the smell of smoke snapped him to attention. Compared to the line outside the club, he looked extremely out of place. The bouncers, on the other hand, knew exactly who to look for and waved him over. “Follow me!” One shouted over the synth beat and waved him inside.

The strobing lights and new wave music were something Paddy couldn’t get used to. The eighties were definitely different, more openly debaucherous than when he was a lad. Snaking his way through the club with the bouncer, seeing the new generation hard at work in the club reminded him how outdated he was. Prison had that effect, feeling as if time stopped on the outside. Moments like this, surrounded by the youth culture he once participated in before incarceration, were a harsh reminder of his penitence. Nonetheless, he pushed the thought aside. He needed to stay focused for tonight. Eventually the pair ended up at a stairwell, and the bouncer gestured for him to head up. There wasn’t a point to sharing words, considering the music drowned out most thoughts anyway. So, he did as instructed.

At the top of the stairs, another guard stood at the ready. Once again, the silent understanding of who he was and his size spoke for itself. Without a question, the guard opened the door to Aidan’s office, letting him in. As soon as the door shut, the music was automatically muffled. allowing him a moment of peace before greeting his host. “Mr. Jones, a pleasure to be here.” Paddy played his part, extending his hand for Aidan to shake. "I can't believe you're able to get any work done with that racket out there!" He teased, trying to keep up small talk.

​

Near the Palace of Westminster
- Westminster, London, England -
Misty Gray

Stanley Reed
​

“I’m not taking the fucking piss for your fuckup, mate! We’ve got our end handled. Step the fuck up!” Stanley shouted in the booth. Marco was on the outside, leaning lightly against the side. “It won’t happen again; we’ve got a lad in the area who’s on his way now.” The thick Irish accent on the other line promised. Without another word, he hung up the line. Stanley ran a stressed hand over his eyes, pressing his eyeballs inward slightly. “These fucking militants. What happened to all the good Irish like Frankie…” He trailed, stepping out of the box to reunite with Marco.

“These fuckers think they can get pissed at a pub while they’re killing time.” He shook his head, explaining the call to Marco as they walked. His mate wore the backpack, pre-assembled by their hired help for tonight’s occasion. He couldn’t bring himself to bear the burden of carrying it; plus, Marco was a larger lad than himself thanks to Pads. “IRA is sending another bloke to replace the spotter who was covering the building. Our main point should still be good.” He sighed, tucking his hands in his pockets as they walked. “Enough IRA coverage to keep us out of it. That’s all I care about.” He mumbled.

The heart of London was certainly a rather odd spot to be, and one his girlfriend certainly wasn’t aware of. He ran a hand through his hair, now much longer per Rory’s suggestion, putting the loose strands back in place. Bless her, his bird was on some sort of extravagant family vacation for her uncle’s birthday. From the way she described it, she was fond of him at least. But the thought of being stuck in the English countryside with a bunch of stuffy, posh geezers sounded hard to swallow. Perhaps if he knew them, it would be a different story. But all he knew was that Mr. Walker preferred the roses in bloom till September and the hedges manicured a certain way. A pain in the ass, by those standards.

Stanley’s eyes wandered above them, examining the incredible architecture around them. He’d been one as a teenager, on his caravan travels. But not like this… “Let’s not tell Pads about the mess-up on their end once we’re back. They’re still taking the piss after all, and I’d rather not worry him about this mess after tonight,” he stated, though he assumed Marco would automatically agree.

Walker Holiday Mansion
- Buxton, Peak District National Park, England -
(present scene time)
BasDorcha

Lisa Evans

“This is a holiday for all of us, not just my brother…” Robert had told her some weeks ago about his elaborate plan for Richard’s 64th birthday party. He wanted to get away from Birmingham, the primary location of everyone’s stress, and spend time as a family. A rich idea, coming from the man she knew decades ago. The man she knew never talked of his family, other than basic details. At least, past what she needed to know professionally. After hours was a space safe from worrying about family drama. But for the new Robert, it seemed like something he’d want. Spending time away from his actual stressors, with the people he wanted. Lucky for him, Richard's birthday was the perfect excuse to demand everyone's presence. Lisa insisted she stay back to not intrude on his children and brother. But she was quickly overruled. Robert wouldn’t have it. No one was free to say no to King Arthur's invitation to Camelot, especially with Lancelot's birthday. So here she stood, overlooking the sprawling lawn from the dining room with a glass of afternoon chardonnay in hand.

The brothers and their respective sons were off on some walk, likely discussing God knows what. If she had to guess, knowing the recent contracts she'd reviewed, it was likely due to Alex's affairs. The young man was making a name for himself, proving to be an exceptional worker. Wherever Richard Finley dug him up from, she gave him props. His wife, Maria, also seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. The hotel had yet to burn down, and she seemed to take on Felicity's old responsibilities in stride. Lisa found it a bit ironic, considering the birthday boy wasn’t known to be quick on his feet, to go trekking for this conversation. From years of knowing Richard professionally, she knew he was more the lounging type than the active sort. But Robert seemed more determined to explore the natural scenery on the vacation than to drink and chase grandchildren around the house. Plus, she assumed whatever was meant to be said wasn't meant to be heard by lingering ears. With a sip of wine, she turned her attention back to the long, rectangular dinner table behind her. It needed setting. Tonight’s dinner was the last in the house before the end of the holiday, which meant there was more of a fuss than usual. A proper Sunday dinner, as Robert put it. Everything rested in the middle of the table, ready for assembly. Clearly, none of Robert’s children were willing to do the task.

Lisa set her glass down at the head of the table after a sip and began to work folding napkins. Sure, it was tedious work, but it was relatively mindless. Something for her hands to do besides tip her glass to her lips. The last thing she needed was to be drunk by dinner! Around the point she was a quarter finished, heavy footsteps in the kitchen caught her attention. She wasn't the only one in the house? Considering all the children were outside doing God knows what, she only assumed with the silence that no one else was around. And the footsteps were certainly not a woman's. That left two candidates: Thomas or Dean. “Whoever’s stomping about, would you mind lending a hand?” Lisa called. “Fifteen places don’t magically set themselves!”

 

[BasDorcha]

Chapter 1 - Birthdays and Betrayals

- Sunday 29th August 1982 -
1. Afternoon - Sunny, Hot, Clear Skies

***************

​

O'Shae's Curios and Provisions

- Birmingham, England -
- Afternoon -​

Vincent McConnel

The hot August weather was warm on his back as he stood at the trunk of his car. Before him, cases of cigars filled the space, the deep smell of rich tobacco filling the air. A grin broke over Vinny's face as he appraised his haul. The poker game he competed in last night ended up with one man over betting his budget and having to pay up in merchandise. With Vinny walking away with the pot, that meant he got to keep the items as well. Easy money, damn good easy money. Slamming the trunk down, the lock clicking into place, he looked at himself in the window of the business. His short cropped, messy hair stuck out in a messy array that almost looked intentional. His facial hair was lightly sculpted to the edges of his lips, and the all black suit was custom tailored to his frame. On his feet a pair of stylish but also reasonably tactical in case of emergencies.

Then, he turned an admired his car. A 1923 cream and black Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost. It had long been his dream car, and for nearly a decade he had paid a private restorer to put it together for him. Just over a year ago he'd finally gotten to drive her home. It was his pride and joy. The "trunk" was in fact, shaped like an old traveling case trunk.

But the man who did his restoration job had been clever. It was merely made to look that way, while actually being modernized, insulated, and waterproofed. The wooden exterior was all for show. He climbed into the vehicle and pulled away, noting the time. Maggie should be done with lunch by now and hopefully at the shop. He had no desire to keep the majority of the boxes, and she was the perfect person to unload them too.

The short drive to the fences shop was peaceful. It had been a while since the Walker's had a good rivalry or drama to liven things up, but Vinny had calmed some as he had gotten older. When the need became too much, he found ways to deal with it, but Robert mostly kept him busy enough not to worry about much. Before he knew it, he was pulling up outside of O'Shae's Curios and Provisions. Locking baby up, he grabbed a few of the boxes out of the trunk and carried them in, looking around the rustic area. The signs just peeking out always made him shake his head. It looked so innocent from out here. The building was tall and narrow, made of brick that looked aged. Across the street a busy market hustled and bustled, and the entrance to the Curios shop was hidden behind the post office that partially blocked its view.

As he passed under the hand painted windows sporting 'household items, tools, books jewelry, & rarities', he pushed on without thinking twice. Just inside the door, he lifted his voice and called out, "Maggie O’Shae—surely the finest name I’ve said all day! You about, love? Vinny McConnnel callin’—strictly business, unless you’ve got time for a bit of charm too." He couldn't see is she might be hiding behind all the mess and furniture that piled through the room. ""Got a present with your name on it, Maggie—should be no trouble at all to unwrap."" He called out louder in case she was in the back. When no response came, he made his way into the back room. The velvet couch and settee, curtains and all wood furnishings reeked of comfortable elegance. This was the real Maggie's side. Or closer to it at least. He took a seat, knowing if Maggie didn't hear the front door, she for sure heard this last one and would be popping up from wherever she was soon enough. He repeated his call outs, and sat the cigars down on the table before him. He didn't wait. He pulled one out and rolled it between his fingers, checking out the quality. Yep, still a great deal.

NanLia - Maggie O'Shae

 

[BasDorcha]

Apartment Block

- Ladywood, Birmingham, England -
- Evening -​

Penelope Fletcher

The call had been placed earlier and arranged ahead of schedule, so Penny wasn't surprised when the confirmation came through of the time and place for her next job. Normally, Penny only over saw the job these days, having the eye for detail and decorating and a sleuth of trustworthy, knowledgeable cleaners under her employ. As the men and women she'd selected for this particular clean up entered through the back with all the gear you could imagine ever needing, she stepped over to the man wrapped on the floor with a look of disinterest. Without hesitation, she lifted her stiletto heeled foot and stomped it onto his chest, dead or not, digging the heel down as she kicked her frustration out on him. A low growl graced her lips before she removed her foot and turned back around, surveying the damage.

"Well, I didn't, but I certainly wasn't planning on being here all night either." She gave Joseph a look like I blame you for this, now you owe me. Walking around, she firmly but gently called out some 'area's of opportunity' for their next run at this. Things to consider, ways to protect the room, how to prevent evidence. When she was done, she dusted her hands off, coming back to stand before the man. She crossed her arms, giving him an angry face, before it dissolved and she laughed, unable to hold the fake anger any longer. "You're getting better at this, in any case. My job is getting easier and easier. Go ahead and take him out the back, the van is out there, then come back and help me out a bit, yeah?" She smiled and stepped out of the messy scene to start barking instructions at her employees. In a room away from the scene, she caught a quick glimpse of herself. Her blonde hair curled around her face loosely, her white silk shirt patterned with autumn leaves, tucked into a tight fitted pair of jeans and her white high heels.

"Once we get the big parts done, I'll leave the others to finish up, I find I have to spend less and less time at the actual scene these days once I have a good grasp of what needs done." She turned and beamed proudly at her crew. "They are doing a fantastic job." With that she walked around and started picking stuff up, making small piles of trash in various sizes, righting furniture, and calling out areas of blood that would need to be thoroughly cleaned.

As she moved about she looked up at Joseph and smiled. "Hell of a way to spend a Sunday isn't it? Should you be with the kiddo instead of dealing with this today. You know if you ever need someone to watch her, I'd be happy to help. I've had a lot of practice with Matty." It might seem a little out of nowhere, even Penny acknowledged that, but she had a firm respect for Joseph. He had become a single parent overnight but never shied away from her and always seemed to be doing his best, and for that she even admired him. He wasn't a man who would just abandon his child. And Penny had always had a lot of family around to help, Joseph didn't seem to have that. Since her family and the Walkers' were on good terms these days, and had been for a long time, she didn't see any reason she couldn't offer to help a friend out.

"What did this guy do anyways?" She grimaced at the smell of piss in the air. The guy had not died a brave death.

Misty Gray - Joseph

 

[ReverseTex]

Walker Holiday Mansion
-Buxton, Peak District National Park, England-
Misty Gray
BasDorcha

Richard Finley​

Peace. All Richard wanted six years ago was peace, both for the family and himself. Somehow, despite every challenge placed before him, he managed to achieve it. Every awful thing that occurred, such as the gala shooting and Caroline’s death, somehow rebounded with a positive addition to his life. Rory and Alex’s integration into the family and his life certainly were examples of that. Of course, fostering this peace took everyone’s time and effort. Robert seemed to take his tough love to heart, forcing himself to grow. And for the first time in decades, Richard could say with confidence his brother was returning to the young man he befriended on the airfield decades ago. Despite the battles, he was winning the war against himself.

As for his own semblance of peace, Richard knew maintaining his seat in the mayor’s office was hurting him more than the good he was creating. Sure, civil and social improvements occurred under his term, but at the cost of many sleepless nights and mountains of paperwork. Perhaps if he were a younger man, with more vigor to tackle such an uphill battle, he would’ve enjoyed the work more. But it wasn’t as easy as teaching and certainly not as exciting. He knew the best decision, both for the city and himself, was to not seek reelection at the end of his term. The Tories had wind in their sails regardless of any effort he would have to invest in a campaign. So the route to retirement was the right thing to do… Since his term’s end two years ago, Richard managed to find the right balance of work and time for himself. Advising Felicity and Alex quickly became two of his more enjoyable work activities. His niece was sharp-witted and a harsh negotiator, but her lack of experience had its ups and downs. He was a firm guide and resource whenever she requested his presence. Moreover, Alex’s work for Robert was exponentially helpful in maintaining order in the city. Aside from the odd job or fix, he was an invaluable addition to their work and the family overall.

But today, all of the work had to be set aside. Even if he didn’t want to let it lie, today was his day. Bloody Robert wanted to make sure he knew it. Of course, his brother and Dean organized an expansive getaway for the family without his knowledge. Had he known, he would’ve called off such affairs and opted for a simple dinner. Of course, no was never an option with Robert or Dean, so the show went on. After his relentment, the remaining pieces fell in place. He’d get his birthday dinner only after a weekend of celebration and family. With a house full of people he loved, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his birthday!

The summer stroll felt good in his aching joints, as Richard strolled behind the pack. Robert firmly led the group on his trek, with the two younger men close behind. It was never a bother to keep up with the boys, but certainly sixty-four years and a dilapidated leg didn’t make it easy. By the time the group made it to their meeting spot, he was grateful for a place to rest his leg.

As Robert started off the conversation, prompting Alex to explain his work, Richard’s mind loosely listened. He was well aware of what Alex was up to, as the two often had weekly dinners at his home. The concern he had wasn’t with him; it was with Alfie. Sitting across from both his brother and nephew, he flipped his attention back and forth to examine their reactions. As he expected, Robert saw Alex’s reason by suggesting a meeting. He met his brother’s eyes with a silent nod, having expected that reaction. But his silence clearly wasn’t good enough, prompting his opinion.

“Well, I agree. He can be an arrogant prick from time to time.” Richard said plainly. “I, of course, want the peace to remain as is. I don’t believe I hold as much stake in the matter to actually make a difference in his opinion, but I believe we still have somewhat of an upper hand. A sit down meeting with you, Robert, should be enough to keep him at bay.” He explained. The last thing he wanted was for Alfie to get involved. This problem was still bigger than what he was capable of. But for now, he’d hold his tongue on that matter. “With Thatcher running rampant in Parliament, I don’t expect his wife to have much standing these days. He knows if he makes one legal slip-up, that wench will be on him like a hawk.” He tutted. Without getting more political, he pursed his lips.

 

[NanLia]

The Fox and Hounds Pub
- Ladywood, Birmingham, England -
- Evening -
Frankie Mancini​

The door to Hannah’s pub swung open just as the last muttered curse slipped from the departing man's mouth. Frankie paused to let the man pass, eyebrow raised in mild curiosity as to what he could possible be pissed about leaving the pub but, if he had to guess, it had been self-inflicted. He stepped inside and let the door close slowly behind him, pausing to let his eyes adjust. He didn’t need to ask what he’d missed—he saw it in the way the barmaid’s cheeks were flushed, in the taut set of Hannah’s shoulders, and in the uneasiness that still lingered through the regulars.

He gave a few of the old lads a nod, then slid his hand across the bar in a casual tap for attention. “Did I miss the floor show?” he asked, voice gravelly but amused, as he took his usual seat at the far end of the bar, just close enough to keep an eye on things, just far enough to not make a scene.

Hannah was already moving back behind the bar, and Frankie let his eyes follow her for a beat longer than necessary—not possessively, but like a man who knew what it cost her to keep the wolves at bay.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, once she was within earshot, resisting the urge to reach across the bar for her hand, as though he could somehow put her at ease. While he made no effort to make their relationship anything more than the casual thing that it was, it didn’t mean he didn’t care about her health, well-being and happiness.

“I don’t think you’ll be seeing that lad again, any time soon,” he added, voice low enough for only her to hear, but laced with that particular pride he reserved just for her. He reached into the inside pocket of his worn coat, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and tapping one loose.

“I’ll take a pint when you’re ready. And maybe a moment after that, if you’ve one to spare. He didn’t need to say more. She’d know what he meant.
Misty Gray - Hannah Pearson

O'Shae's Curios and Provisions
- Birmingham, England -
- Afternoon -

Maggie O'Shea
​

The familiar sound of kitten heels on worn oak floors sounded as Maggie came down the back corridor behind the private room and pushed open the partly disguised door; a small table affixed to wood paneling and a large painted wall were false. Well, the table and the wall, but the painting was an original. “The Golden Stairs” was well known and one of the very few items that she kept, despite its value. She appeared in the doorway with sleeves rolled to the elbow on a crisp cream blouse, her long skirt rustling softly as she stepped into view. A small smudge of ink dusted the side of one hand, betraying time spent with her ledger rather than her usual shopfront routine.

“Well, if it isn’t Birmingham’s smoothest thief playing Santa Claus in August,” Maggie said, voice rich and smooth.

Her eyes landed on the cigar box already opened, and one elegantly arched brow lifted in mock offence. She moved closer, gracefully, and as she passed him, she plucked the cigar from his hand, giving it a cursory inspection before slipping it back into the box. “Nice quality. Dominican? Nicaraguan?”

Her appraisal didn’t end with the cigar as her fingers skimmed the edge of the box and looked over the detailed and intricate designs inlaid with dyed bone, or perhaps seashell. Everything had value if you knew what to look for and knew who would want it. Finally, Maggie moved to sit herself across from Vinny, at the edge of the settee, poised and proper. “I don’t care much for stolen goods,” A lie, they both knew, but the start of negotiations. “So, Vinny McConnell, you’re either buttering me up for a deal, or you're bored. Both tend to cost me. Which is it today, darling?”
BasDorcha - Vinny McConnell

 

[Misty Gray]

The Horizon Lounge
- Downtown Birmingham, England-
- Late Evening -

Aidan Jones​

It had been six years since Aidan and Robert agreed to a peace deal. Aidan achieved what he'd set out to. He succeeded in putting heavy dent in the Walker's resolve by showing them they weren't invincible and that the city wasn't theirs alone. On top of that, he reclaimed the territory that was rightfully his family's before Richard murdered his father and Robert forced the family out of England. However, between his successes in Wales and Belfast, he was now growing dissatisfied with the deal in Birmingham. He wanted to expand his ventures and gain more power within the city. His last meeting with Alex Mohren had proven to be pointless, with the Walkers not willing to budge and agree to allowing him more control. He'd tried doing things their way, but their refusal didn't mean a thing. Now he needed to explore other avenues.

As he sat at his desk in his nightclub office, the loud music, though muffled by the walls, was a testament to how successful his current ventures were. But he couldn't allow himself to become complacent. That was why he'd arranged a meeting with Paddy Crane this evening. Before that, he'd checked in with his son Dylan who had called him from the hotel he was staying in. Whilst Sarah was attending a political meeting, Dylan was relaxing back at the hotel they were both staying in. With all of that in order, Aidan had spent some time with his right-hand man, Rhys, as he updated him on any recent developments in the business.

Not long after Aidan had dismissed Rhys to go keep an eye on things down in the nightclub, Aidan was alerted to Paddy's arrival. Once the guard let his visitor in, Aidan dismissed his employee, comfortable to have this meeting between just himself and Paddy. "Mr. Crane. It's good to finally meet you," the Welshmen greeted him in return as they shook hands. "Please. Call me Aidan," he added.

He gave a pleasant, light laugh in response to the comment about working over the noise. "It took some time, but I'm able to block it out," he reciprocated the small talk. "Take a seat," he offered him, holding out his hand towards the empty chair at the other side of his desk. "Would you like something to drink?" he offered, gesturing to the choice of spirits lined up on the shelf behind him before getting him anything he requested.

Once seated across from Paddy, Aidan took a sip of brandy from his glass tumbler before placing it down on his desk. "Are things still going well at the gym?" he asked. Having visited the boxing gym on occasion, Aidan was aware of its success. It was what had first brought his attention to Paddy and the business the man was building. He saw potential in using their shared resources towards gaining control of more territory in the city.

Sitting back in a relaxed fashion, Aidan maintained eye-contact with Paddy. "I briefly mentioned my intentions prior to this meeting. What are your thoughts about my proposition? There's so much unexplored potential for this city, but it's being held back by the Walkers."

ReverseTex (Paddy)

Near the Palace of Westminster
- Westminster, London, England -
- Evening -

Marco Alessi​

Prison had hardened Marco. If it hadn't, then it would have killed him. His optimism was replaced with cynicism. His open heart replaced with a distrust for many; a selectiveness over who receives his loyalty and concern. He was released from prison four months ago but still attempting readjust to his freedom. Birmingham looks the same as it did before, but it feels entirely different. Places that were home to him now appear unwelcoming. Seeing faces from the past rarely brings a welcome nostalgia. He'd seen Tony during his second weekend as a free man. His first inclination had been to cross the street and turn a blind eye. But his time in prison had taught him better than avoidance. So he'd confronted his former boss - former friend - and made it clear they would never be on good terms. For his ex-girlfriend, Penny, avoidance had actually been the chosen approach. Intentionally ignoring her to make sure she knew he'd meant it when he told her to stay away.

It had been his past cellmate, Paddy, and their friend, Stanley, who Marco found himself reconnecting with after his release. Without those two, he was certain his years behind bars would have been even more unpleasant than they had been. With their help, he toughened up both physically and mentally. He began to see the world through more realistic eyes. Marco learned of Paddy's vision for a business on the outside. It was a vision Marco agreed with, having determined himself he no longer subscribed to the ways of the Fletchers.

Whilst aware of the changes he'd gone through in prison and the new outlook on life he had, it was still in some ways hard to believe he was standing where he was right now. With a backpack filled with explosives as he stood by a London telephone box waiting for Stanley to finish his call. On the face of it this seemed extreme. But this had to be done to pave the way for Paddy's vision to come to fruition.

He remained in a relaxed position when Stanley stepped out of the phone box complaining following his call. Maintaining a calm demeanour so as not to draw any unwanted attention, he faintly smiled at his friend. "They're not going to fuck this up, though?" he queried as they walked. "I'm carrying quite a weight on my shoulders for them to be doing that."

Marco nodded along as Stanley ran through the plan that was still in place. "Great. Sooner this is off my back and we can get out of London, the better." He agreed to the suggestion of not telling Paddy about the other guys messing up. He was sure their boss didn't need any complications going his way when he had other important matters to be focusing on. "I agree. Let's get our job done and then Paddy can focus on the rest at his side."

Despite the burden he was carrying, Marco was able to take some optimism from the moment. There was a time when he thought he'd never be free to walk the streets again, and when first sentenced, he never thought he'd survive long enough for freedom. But to be out in London, a much bigger city than Birmingham, he couldn't help but feel thankful. Albeit daunted. "You were in that place longer than me," he said of the prison. "But how long did it take to get used to being on the outside again?" he asked. Anything to stop him from thinking too much about what they were actually doing in London.

ReverseTex (Stanley)

 

[ReverseTex]

The Horizon Lounge
- Downtown Birmingham, England -
Misty Gray

Paddy Crane​

“Likewise, you can call me Paddy. My father was Mr. Crane, so don’t labor over formalities, please.” Paddy insisted, turning his attention to the bar at Aidan’s

invitation. Though he wasn’t a big drinker himself, he allowed himself a glass here and there. Tonight he’d certainly need something to take the edge off what he’d do…

Fixing his drink also gave him a moment to turn his back to Aidan. Disgusting pig. After lockup and his release, he started hearing rumors of the Welshman’s presence in Birmingham. Rumors of a dead old man and a story of vengeance and accountability for the Walkers. From that alone, Paddy wanted to meet the man. Until he saw what he did with the spoils of war: absolutely nothing different than the Fletchers or Walkers. He was no better than the men he tried to crucify six years ago. And that was why tonight was necessary.

Opting for a light splash of vodka and tonic, Paddy took the seat across from Aidan at the desk. Politely he crossed one of his tree-trunk legs over the other awkwardly, resting his drink on his lap. “Yes, I couldn’t be happier on the gym front. My bookie does a great job on that front, and it's nice to see a budding community take shape.” He replied honestly. The key tonight was to weave his truths with a few lies, keeping Aidan’s radar off until necessary.

Now to business. Well, pretend business, in Paddy’s mind. In order to achieve the meeting, he had to entertain a few horrendous lowball offers. Aidan’s interest was in his workforce, wanting his men to be expendable for what he assumed was a move against the Walkers. His boys, if not all previously incarcerated, were well-familiar blokes around blood and violence. They also didn’t shy away from manual labor, which made them desirable. The offer was well below what his men were worth. That much, he understood from Aidan’s perspective. However, the fact this man sat behind a well-organized desk in a posh suit spoke for himself. Any attempt at a turf war would be his demise. Sure, he took down Robert Walker’s wife and started the two families a bit. But he couldn't control his sort of men, and especially under the circumstances he wanted. But sitting directly across from him, knowing he would soon bring this man’s entire life crashing down, made him see that clearly.

“You’re right, there is a good bit of unexplored potential.” Paddy started after taking a sip of his drink. “Not many people still see that these days… There’s so much industry, so much life to be had in this city. Yet, it doesn’t exist. It’s truly a shame.” He went on. “As for the proposal, I think it’s fine.” He said bluntly. “I’ve never been a man to bore myself over contracts and that bullshit. I have people to do that for me. Good people. So I’m sure whatever you drafted is fine by me.” He explained.

Paddy wanted to be perceived as a bit aloof and naive. He wanted Aidan to think he had the upper hand, only because he let him. It was all semantics at this point anyhow. Lightly, he swirled his tumbler, letting the liquor inside skate around the glass. “Tell me, why go through all of this? What’s your angle, hmm? From how I see it, you got what you wanted a few years back? Why this sudden shift to building an army for war?” He inquired. Unbeknownst to Aidan, it would be his plea to keep Death at bay.

​

Near the Palace of Westminster
- Westminster, London, England -
Misty Gray

Stanley Reed
​

“I know, mate; I don’t like you carrying that thing around either.” Stanley grimly replied. From how Paddy explained it, it seemed difficult these days to actually get access to a Member of Parliament’s car. Security was on high alert with more recent attacks and the Troubles north. So for this instance, he was told the explosives were designed to detonate once attached to a wire in the vehicle. At ignition, the detonation would occur. From how Frankie explained it, it seemed common for the Irish militants to use the engine if they had the time to wire it. But for tonight, the taillight wire in the boot of the car would have to do.

Part of him felt sick knowing what they were about to do. He didn’t want to do it, if he had to be honest with himself. He wanted to put this life behind him; no more bloodshed caused by his handiwork. But at the same time, he loved his friends. He couldn’t abandon Paddy and now Marco, who seemed destitute on the same mission… “Forgiveness is the soil in which reconciliation may grow. So let us not hide our sin, nor make peace with it. Let us bring it to the foot of the Cross, where judgment and mercy meet, and where forgiveness flows freely to all who truly repent…” The vicar’s thoughts circulated in his mind, grappling with the egregious act he was about to commit.

It was only Marco’s question that snapped him from spirituality. Stanley blinked a few times, snapping his observation back into reality, as they continued walking. “Aye, I reckon you never fully shake it. It’s something that’s always a part of us.” He replied. “I think for Pads and me it was a bit different; we got tossed in as kids. Never had the chance to continue being kids and whatnot. Then you pop out a man, and the entire world is on its head. Stuff isn’t the same anymore, and it sucks. But you just move on. Build a new normal out here. As you know, anything’s better than being in there.” He explained.

He hoped his advice was sound. In his opinion, he wasn’t the best at advice. But he’d listen to enough vicars and wise men to pick up a thing or two. Even if it was hard to practice in his own life. “Is there anyone you’re still close to now that you’re out? I know that’s a shitstorm in itself, mate. Besides Pads and me, I mean. That could help.” He inquired. Though he met his girlfriend a few months ago, she has been a tremendous help and confidence booster with his adjustment. Any moment of confusion about something, though met with a giggle, was often nurtured and explained.

 

[Misty Gray]

Apartment Block
- Ladywood, Birmingham, England -
- Evening -

Joseph Worthington​

Joseph smirked at the attitude Penny gave him as she suggested it was his fault she had to work later into the evening. The way he saw it, he and Kane had successfully executed their objectives for the evening. They'd just made a bigger mess along the way, which could have been avoided. Now Penny was here to do what she was paid to do. "Just think of it as us supporting small businesses. You'll get paid more now," he remarked.

Joseph laughed when she said he was getting better at the work. "You reckon?" he playfully enthused. It wasn't quite the private Walker security that was discussed in his original job description. But then, he didn't have anything of the sort in writing. This paid more and added some variety aside from driving Robert's family around.

After shifting the body into the back of Penny's van, Joseph returned to the scene of the crime. When Penny spoke of leaving the job to the rest of her team once she'd done the bigger parts, Joseph quickly shook his head. "I have no doubt your team is doing a great job, but we're all going to have to stay here until every last drop of blood has been accounted form," he asserted. Joseph and Kane had been instructed to see the clean up operation through to the very end. There had to be no chance of anything being missed and leading back to the Walkers. The Fletchers were implicated in this mess too, but they weren't the family Joseph worked for.

"I've had worse Sundays," he said, to lighten the mood again. When Penny brought the subject onto more personal matters, Joseph hesitated before deciding to open up. "Kiddo? She's 17 already, so old enough to look after herself," he said with a laugh. "Though I suspect Matty might be easier to deal with and less of a liability!" he said, aware the child in question was Tony's. Joseph loved his daughter, but he wasn't about to pretend he'd been the best father. For much of her life, he'd left it to her mother to take care of her, with him visiting at weekends, at best. He did it for her own safety, given his line of work. But deep down he knew he could have tried harder to be there.

Penny asked what the now dead guy had done to earn such a messy end. "He's been robbing from some of our warehouses. Goods your family has a stake in too," he explained. "We caught him red-handed, but needed to find out who else was involved. He squealed eventually. After boring me to tears for a long while," he remarked.

"Seeing as we're asking questions this evening..." he began, curious about Penny's motives. "How did you end up doing this? Weren't you a nurse or something?" he asked. "Hell, I heard you were dating that Marco guy years back. I don't know how he pulled off getting away with killing Charles," he remarked. By "getting away with" he didn't mean in a legal sense, but the fact Marco was still alive and kicking to tell the tale.

BasDorcha (Penny)

The Fox and Hounds Pub
- Ladywood, Birmingham, England -
- Evening -

Hannah Pearson​

Hannah was glad to see the letch had left the pub with minimal resistance. She wasn't in the mood for a confrontation tonight. She focused her attention back on the barmaid to tell her to have a short break. There were enough staff on shift to keep things running. The sound of the hand tapping on the bar almost made her jump, given her current alert state, but the familiar voice that followed it put her at immediate ease.

She turned to look at Frankie, now masking her expression with something more neutral. "You missed it all, I'm afraid," she replied in a sarcastic tone. As the barman inched to go serve Frankie, Hannah sent him a look to say she'd tend to their customer. She walked around the bar, stopping behind it to stand across from Frankie in his usual spot.

When Frankie quietly asked if she was okay, Hannah nodded her head. The altercation had been a breeze compared to some of the aggressive encounters she'd been through in the pub before. She didn't need to bring Frankie unnecessary concern, if even at all. "I'm fine," she told him, he voice equally low. "It was the young lass he upset. She's a good worker, but I'm not sure if she's got a thick enough skin for this place."

Hannah couldn't help the subtle smile that crossed her lips when he said she wouldn't been seeing the unpleasant customer again. "And I didn't even need to lift a finger," she lightly teased. She could identify at least a handful of men in the bar who wouldn't think twice about fighting if needed. Not to mention, the attractive man standing across from her had made a living out of it.

When Frankie asked for a drink and a moment from her, she straightened her posture. "One pint, coming right up," she said, her voice now at a normal volume. She intentionally held off from agreeing to his request for her time.

Soon enough, Hannah returned to the spot across from Frankie and placed the pint down on the bar in front of him. "There you go," she told him. She made a point of glancing at the clock. "It appears I can spare you some time," she teased. "Is everything okay?" she asked, aware he'd showed something of concern for her. Naturally, she wanted him to know it was reciprocated, even if they did dance around sharing feelings. Their relationship was a casual one. Both struggling with the idea of commitment, they avoided getting too close on an emotional level.

NanLia (Frankie)

The Horizon Lounge
- Downtown Birmingham, England-
- Late Evening -

Aidan Jones​

Over the last six years, the Walkers and Fletchers had been working together successfully. There were clear cracks in Fletcher leadership, but aside from that, both families had built up their numbers and increased their collective strength. Aidan knew he couldn't spare many men from from his operations in Wales, but he needed more soldiers to put up a strong resistance against the Walkers. Paddy Crane had stood out as potentially being able to help him on that front.

On the subject of his proposal, Paddy said what was offered was fine. He came across as unbothered with being tied down with paperwork, so content to get the ball rolling on that front. That wasn't exactly what Aidan had expected. He had been fully willing to increase his offer were Paddy to enter into negotiations. His initial thought was that the lads over at Crane's Corner had perhaps been smacked in the head too many times, thus knocking any such business sense out of them. However, Paddy seemed coherent enough. It could be that he didn't much care for the money or didn't have a strong enough business mind to know he could ask for more. Building the foundations and getting a comfortable positioning in the city may be his angle. Aidan knew full well that the profits would come rolling in once a solid foundation to succeed upon was built. He would entertain this thought. Paddy appeared serious about the proposal, even if not quite clear as far as compensation was concerned.

Paddy had questions for Aidan. About his motivations for wanting to fight against the Walkers again. "I got what was rightfully mine six years ago, rather than what was wanted," he corrected Paddy. Lifting his glass, he took a slow, relaxed sip of his brandy before setting the glass back down. "What I want is the ability to expand on my businesses, which the Walkers and Fletchers have repeatedly refused. They've failed to listen to reason and enter any negotiations, so the only way to make them pay attention is to fight them for it." Aidan's expression had turned deadly serious. "I intend to remove the kings from their thrones. There's enough seats and takings for the both of us," he said, suggesting Paddy would be greatly rewarded as a result of taking down the two families with him. "Crane's Corner is a great business. But why stay on the outskirts when the centre of Birmingham is where the real profit and power lies?"

ReverseTex (Paddy)

 

[BasDorcha]

Walker Holiday Mansion

- Buxton, Peak District National Park, England -
- Afternoon -​

Alfred Walker

The warm summer air felt good on his face. They had needed this time away. Him, Bonnie, the kids, and the rest of his family. When they also mentioned bringing Alex though, Alfie found himself simmering in jealousy. He tamped it down and let no one see, even Bonnie, but beneath the surface, he could feel it. It reminded him that no matter how he stepped up, no matter how much he tried, he was always lesser. As he followed his dad and Alex to the benches, he sat down away from the rest but still within the circle. He didn't want to sit next to any of them at the moment, his feelings raw but hidden. He kept his face cleared, well practiced at it now, and relaxed casually into the chair, silent watching the conversation. Six years had changed the man dramatically. The careful, fun loving kid that was barely learning his position had long since come and gone.

Now, Alfred was more poised, more practiced. He didn't erupt, he simmered. He strategized. He planned ten steps ahead, in multiple directions, because he had seen what happened when you didn't. A pain shot through his heart as he thought of his mom, and how he had dropped the ball on that day. It still coursed through him as a constant reminder of why he had to be better. He could not let something like that happen to his wife, his kids, or any other member of his family. Since the day he lost his mind killing Ewan, he had never let himself get close to that level of emotion again. Thankfully Tony had been the only person to see it, and over the years they had formed a bond that Alfred thankfully allowed him to trust the other man to keep that day to himself. It was a stark lesson on controlling ones self.

The thing that brought Alfred back to the conversation, and egged on his frustration, was that everyone here was treating him like a fragile piece of glass about Aidan. Alex - who had wormed his way into the family the likes of which he'd never seen - was handling something Alfred should and it still irked him. Over six years, and his father still trusted others more than him. At times it made him want to throw up his hands and walk away like Bonnie was always asking him too, let their golden child handle all the bullshit since Alfred obviously could never live up to the expectations. At other times, it drove him to beat the man. All the times, it was a venom living in his skin, jealousy over the fact that his father and uncle both thought the man was better than him. Alfred silently got a hold of himself, not bothering to look at any of them as they spoke as if he wasn't there. The wedge between him and his family was thin, but constantly driving down. Would he ever be enough?

With them talking about Aidan, he stayed silent until the conversation turned to him. The look he gave them intentionally said Oh, now it's my turn to be part of this? "Thing's at the warehouse are moving along. The new warehouse is almost completed, and the inventory changeover is right on schedule. Everything is packed and boxed, just needs to be moved when they finish the final inspection and we're cleared for move in." He sounded bored, though his face had returned to a calm and unfettered mask. "As I said before hand, there's nothing more I can do there except to jump in and move things myself. Right now we're just waiting on the permits. I greased some palms on that end, should be completed any day now instead of months away like they expected."

He didn't bother meeting anyone's eyes except his father during his report. He was on babysitting duty essentially, and it annoyed his soul in a way he couldn't express. He never mentioned it out loud, but Alfred was growing tired of waiting for them to stop passing him over. Did he hate Aidan? Absolutely. Did that mean he couldn't handle the professional and business end of everything? Absolutely not. Who he had been when Aidan was on the war path was a different man than he was now. Time had changed them all, and Alfred was not left unaffected. Still, it felt like living in Charles shadow. If his brother had been here, there was no doubt in his mind that his father would have retired already. A slight flex in his jaw muscle was the only indication that Alfred was feeling anything as he gritted his teeth behind his lips silently. The quicker this was over, the quicker he could get back to his kids and wife.

Misty Gray - Robert/Alex
ReverseTex - Richard

 

[BasDorcha]

Walker Holiday Mansion

- Buxton, Peak District National Park, England -
(present scene time)
ReverseTex - Richard​

Dean Walters

Dean looked down at his son as he ruffled the teens hair. "Dad, STOP." Daniel groaned. Dean laughed and sent him on his way to hang out doing whatever it was he wanted to do. Meanwhile, he got himself dressed and prepared for dinner, happy to be spending time with his family. Things had not been easy for Dean over the last six years. When Alice had passed, Dean had to fight everything within him not to pull away from everyone he had come back for. It was his nature - when he was hurt, he wanted to pull away from the pain. Instead, he had stayed this time, worked through it with the help if Rob and Rich, and over time adjusted to being a single father. His son, Daniel, had just turned thirteen, and was a brilliant child.

Dean had been planning something special for Rich, but finding a time to do it was stumping him. For years, he had held on patiently, recovering from his wife, and hoping to someday win back the love of the man he had fallen for as a young adult. A sigh escaped him as he adjusted the sleeves of his suit he had specially made for dinner tonight. It was the last big updo for the family gathering and he wanted to look nice for it. As he came down the stairs, he heard Lisa shout out about getting help setting the dinner table and he chuckled. She was still getting the hang of everything in the family, but at least she wasn't quiet about it. As he came around the door and into the room, he grinned. "Everyone too busy to come help? Let me assist. I'm sure I can fold some napkins and help out."

He sat down beside her, pulling some of the stack towards him. "Don't worry, we'll get it taken care of. How are you enjoying the trip?" He and Lisa knew each other in passing, but it seemed she was becoming a fixture of Robert's and Dean had made it his personal mission to try and make her feel included, welcomed, and to get to know her the best he could.

 

[ReverseTex]

The Horizon Lounge
- Downtown Birmingham, England -
Misty Gray

Paddy Crane​

Rightfully his? The moment Aidan spoke of entitlement, Paddy’s guilt dissolved instantly. The pointed correction felt subliminal, a reminder he was still

seen as less than compared to Aidan. Even though the man across from him spoke of usurpation, he truly didn’t meet the qualifications to call his actions a revolution. It was simply another transition of power; the same aims and goals as the men who currently occupied those thrones. Aidan wouldn’t change Birmingham; for better or for worse, he would keep it stagnant. Keep it dormant from its true potential.

Aidan’s own question seemed ignorantly obvious. “Because rent is cheaper and most of my boys live in that area.” He answered bluntly. “Nothing more, nothing less. It’s simply convenient for me to be easily accessible to my guys and what I’m building. I’m a hands-on bloke.” He spoke before finishing the last swig of his drink. It was about time. Paddy rose casually, wanting to be mobile and standing rather than sitting for his next move. In appearance, he just appeared to be slowly pacing back and forth in front of the desk.

According to his reconnaissance reports, courtesy of Stanley, Paddy knew Aidan kept a pistol in his desk. It wasn’t entirely clear where, but he knew the man was armed. Thankfully, the door was locked on the outside. Though there was a lock on their side of the door, Paddy knew Aidan was no physical match against him to reach it in an emergency. The men outside were also armed, but no match for his crew. His boys, well, they were already on the inside. Though unarmed, skilled criminals didn’t need guns to cause damage. Prison shanking was a skillful art, and he picked the best boys he knew for tonight’s job. But for now, they were mingling and dancing about the club, biding time until midnight. Until the power was cut and darkness enclosed them all. Which, by the glance at his wristwatch, was a few minutes away…

“I get the sense we’re not necessarily on the same page…” He trailed, sensing his blunt answer hadn’t been what Aidan expected. “What do you know about dogs, Aidan?” Paddy asked again, not expecting an answer. “I’m a bit like a caged street dog, you see; prison does that to a man. It makes him feel… Animalistic. Stuck alone in a cell, forced to stew in your thoughts and desires. In this case, like a dog, I’ve always wanted to catch a squirrel.” He began to explain, buying his boys time before the inevitable move. “The squirrels, in this metaphor, are those in power in this city. Robert Walker, Tony Fletcher, and you.” He paused at the far right corner of Aidan’s desk. Just far enough to be out of reach, but close enough to impose his authority. “Now that I’m out of my cage, I’m free to chase as many squirrels as I want."

With a quick move, a bit like a boxer’s left step, Paddy reached for Aidan’s blazer collar. In another move, he curled his arm around Aidan’s neck, locking him firmly against his chest. His other arm was free to lock Aidan tighter in his chokehold, though not suffocating him completely. “See, now that I’ve chased and caught the squirrel. I’m not quite sure what to do with it.” Paddy joked. “I could let it go, but that’s no fun. Hmm, let’s see… I could bring it to my master, but I have no master; I’m a street dog… I don’t really know what I want to do now that I’ve caught one,” he said.

The clock struck twelve by the sound of the synth stopping and the screams below. Inside the office, the lights turned off for a moment. They flickered back to life, implying that Aidan had a backup generator in his office. No surprise. Paddy knew the chaotic rush of the bystanders would ensure a perfect cloak for his men to work. Though the first sounds were distantly below, the next round of shots was from the door in front of them. The light indentations in the metal and thud brought a slight smile to his face. One of his guys managed to get a gun and shoot up at the guards.

“The beauty is I don’t have to do anything with you. I just do things, Aidan, because I want to. I’m not a schemer trying to control this city. I’m not like Robert or Tony, or even you for that matter.” Paddy reminded Aidan. "I don't need money or anything for that matter. I'm content in my cardboard box in the back alleys." He continued, explaining that Aidan couldn't buy his way out of Death. "All this street dog wants is to run circles around town just to prove that you can’t catch me. That’s where my power lies: the fact you haven’t a clue what I want or how I’ll do it.”

The silence outside the office was his key: he had a few minutes to spare before he’d need to leave. “I think we’re on the same page.” Paddy said blankly. Another quick move, he pushed Aidan’s head down, holding it firmly like a football against the corner of the desk, while his other hand pulled one of Aidan’s shoulders back. “As I speak, your wife’s car is being rigged with an automatic detonation device, courtesy of a few friends of mine. Your son has a crosshair on the back of his head. Within a few minutes, your entire bloodline will be eradicated. All for a greater cause, you aren't capable of seeing.” He rattled on, calmly. “You’re just an example. How did you put it? The only way to get those squirrels to pay attention was to make them fight for it? No, I don’t need to fight them. I just have to leave you and your family out to dry on the clothesline. Much easier that way.”

​

Walker Holiday Mansion
- Buxton, Peak District National Park, England -
(present scene time)
BasDorcha

Lisa Evans
​

Lisa perked up from her spot to see Dean enter the dining room. “My hero,” she said, thanking him with a sarcastic smile. Secretly, she was glad it wasn’t

Thomas. Out of all of Robert’s children, he seemed the most apprehensive and standoffish towards her. While she didn’t take it personally, on account of how close he was to Caroline, it didn’t make being around him any easier… Regardless of who it was, she had made it explicitly clear to Robert before the relationship took off that she would be removed from his kids' lives unless asked otherwise. She wasn’t a mother; therefore, she had no place trying to replace theirs.

“The trip? Oh, it’s fine enough. I think Robert wanted to drag me from my desk more than anything. I don’t think he thought it would be fair if I got to work while he was on vacation. Even though he’s working as we speak.” She tutted. Unlike his late wife, Lisa encouraged keeping a busy lifestyle. She was a busy woman herself and never slowed down for anyone. So why would she ask her partner to do the same? Luke, her late husband, had been slower and older. Borning by comparison to Robert Walker.

Folding silverware was a rhythmic task she didn’t mind doing as they conversed. “What about you? Your boy’s a bit older than the rest of the grandkids running around this place. Is he having fun?” She asked. Lisa wanted to start small with her line of questioning. She didn’t want to startle Dean off with a plethora of questions; her legal career taught her better. But she had plenty, considering Robert was very poor at giving her juicier details.

For the decades she knew Richard professionally, Lisa always found it odd he never settled down. He was a well-spoken, charming man, even if a bit nerdy. There had to be some woman for him, she always thought. There were girls who liked nerdy blokes! It wasn’t until her recent plunge into the family, beyond a legal level, that she started realizing the truth. Richard didn’t fancy women. The rumor didn’t disturb her. In fact, it would be more helpful to nail down the truth to alter the language in Richard’s living will. There were ways to describe certain… relations that wouldn’t raise any red flags with the government. But now on this trip, the rumor was clearly fact rather than fiction. The two men sharing a bedroom seemed evident enough!

“Robert tells me you’re extravagant of sorts. Well, at least out of the three of you. What did you get the birthday boy?” Lisa inquired, curious to figure out what she wanted to know.

 

[Misty Gray]

Walker Holiday Mansion
- Buxton, Peak District National Park, England -
- Afternoon -

Robert Walker and Alexander Möhren​

Alex had spent most of his adult life working some kind of surveillance. Watching people. Reading people. Seeking out their strengths and weaknesses. But those many years of experience were irrelevant when it came to Alfie. It didn't take any effort to read him. From his expressions to his seating position, the man didn't attempt to hide his contempt. Whether it was some kind of jealousy or hang ups that preceded Alex ever meeting the Walkers, he wasn't quite sure, but the disdain towards him was clear. What he did know was Alfie's personal relationships with Richard and Robert didn't factor into the present business exchange. It came across as disrespectful and unprofessional. Alex maintained his stoic expression despite Alfie's behaviour. He was present because his role in the business dictated it. Alex may lead a teams when required, but that was as far as his desire for leadership went. He had no interest in Alfie's position. No desire to muscle in on the Walker family's blood hierarchy.

Robert wasn't oblivious to the way his son was acting either. It wasn't new, given Alex had been attending such meetings for a couple of years now. The only thing stopping him from vocalising his distaste was his desire to not only get the business talk done with quickly, but also his wish to keep things on a pleasant note for Richard's birthday. It didn't stop him form silently acknowledging Alfie, though. It was growing increasingly more unpleasant and verging humiliating to see his own son keen to take his spot. As if he were some frail old man needing to be pushed aside and spend his days waiting to die. It was offensive. But Robert wasn't budging. He was physically fit and able. Mentally stronger now than he'd been some years ago. He'd entertained the idea of retiring when Caroline was still alive, but that wasn't the path God chose for him. Now, he thrived on his work and seeing Lisa's thirst for her career only motivated him further to do the same. Alfie was still young. He would have plenty of time to run the business when Robert did step down, or if he dropped dead.

Alfie didn't give his thoughts on it, but the consensus otherwise was for Robert to meet with Aidan. Alex usually had that pleasure alone, but times like these called for Robert to remind Aidan of the agreement made six years ago. "My preference is to keep the peace. Otherwise, we'll have to consider striking before Aidan does. We shouldn't become complacent and it's clear he hasn't either," Robert told them.

Alfie's attitude remained even when the attention was on him. The pride and praise Robert could express upon hearing his son's update was extinguished on account of the manner in which Alfie chose to address the group. "That's good to hear. Demand is rapidly increasing and that warehouse is going to be a vital part of keeping the the contraband moving. So it's crucial you keep up the hard work with that."

It was clear Alfie wanted to leave the meeting and if he were being honest, Robert wanted to dismiss him in that moment. But they had a business to run and Alfie was expected to take on responsibilities if he was serious about taking over in the future. "Alfie. I need you to lead on a meeting with Tony. He's taking the piss and needs to get his head into gear. I'm willing to offer our resources where it directly affects or relates to our business, but we're not bailing out the Fletchers if he drops the ball. He's putting Rory, along with the rest of his family, at risk as it stands. See if you can get through to him," Robert requested, aware Alfie and Tony got along well these days.

Sitting up straight, Robert looked over his shoulder back in the direction of the mansion. He then looked to the other men, addressing both Alfie and Alex. "You can both return to the house," he dismissed them. There had been other matters he could have brought up, but they could wait. Until everyone involved conducted themselves appropriately.

Waiting for the two to walk away, Robert turned back to face Richard directly. "I could despair, but I don't have time for that today. Let's just have a few minutes before we head back," he suggested. "How are you enjoying your birthday extravaganza?" he lightly asked.

ReverseTex (Richard) BasDorcha (Alfie)

 

[BasDorcha]

O'Shae's Curios and Provisions

- Birmingham, England -
- Afternoon -

NanLia - Maggie​

Vincent McConnel

As the woman swept into the room, Vinny barely looked up at her, still inspecting his cigar. He was just about to light it when the older woman came by, nicking it from his hands as she did. He chuckled and sat back, letting her examine the case and tobacco in front of them. "Cuban." The only word he said when she asked what they were. Cuban's were the most popular for a reason, and he had taken his collected debt out on the best options. As she settled down across from him, Vinny propped his right ankle on his knee, watching the older woman with a sense of veneration, quiet but relaxed. There was something about the woman that felt like a balm to his soul - not traditional but just the right amount of sass. She reminded him of his distant family, of his very Irish roots. He grinned when she cut to the chase.

He always liked the way Maggie entered a room. Like she owned the air in it, like she knew the bones of the building and dared them to creak in protest. There was a rhythm to her steps and a command in her silence, one that had once gotten her through doors Vinny could barely knock on. She wasn’t just older; she was seasoned—salted with experience, charred with stories no one else could tell the same way twice. And in this life where the edges of boredom cut sharper than the edges of danger, that made her a rare breed. Vinny leaned forward slightly, elbows to knees, watching her the way a man watches a storm rolling in—not afraid, but alive in anticipation. She always brought something with her, even if it was just the possibility of trouble dressed in wit and worn boots.

"Ah now, I might take offence if I thought you were bein’ cruel, Maggie O’Shea. And I’ll have ye know, they’re not stolen. Won ’em fair an’ square in last night’s game. Bloke went way over what he had, and I picked up these beauties for me trouble. So stop actin’ like you’re not chuffed to see me—we can be bored out of our heads together, eh?" He laughed, laying his head back, staring at the ceiling. Okay, she was right, he was dying of nothing to do. With the Walker's all out on their little excursion, he was bored stiff. There was nothing to do lately, no trees to shake. He needed something to keep him entertained. A fight? No, that could bring trouble he didn't feel like dealing with. So for the tenth time today, he ended up back on dealing with his trunk full of cigars.

"I’ve a boot full o’ cases out in the car. Keepin’ a few for meself, mind, but the rest are yours—for the right coin. Though I’ll say this: if it ain’t entertainin’, don’t bother. I’m not in the mood for dull today." He teased, challenging her to help him with his lack of direction.

 

[BasDorcha]

Apartment Block

- Ladywood, Birmingham, England -
- Evening -

Misty Gray - Joseph Worthington​

Penelope Fletcher

An exaggerated sigh escaped her when Joseph insisted they all stay until the place was verified good to go. She gave him a look like he had just taken away her prized lollipop, narrow eyed and flinty for the briefest of moments. "Fine. We'll stay till it's done. That means we just moved up the time line though, cause I am not staying here all night, you got it handsome?" It was an endearing term, but said off the cuff and with no real heat or intention behind it. A blush tinged her cheeks - unusual for Penny - as she realized that what she thought was a small child turned out to be a fully grown teen. "Apologies, I just assumed she was younger. In that case, I rescind my offer. You can keep the feral human, I know exactly what girls are like at that age." The light laugh that followed just supported her playful tone, no insults really intended.

She waved Joseph on with her as she cleared the place, closing the doors on rooms that were done and marking out areas to clean. By her estimation, most of it was contained to one room - thankfully - and the men had done a decent job of keeping it mostly clean. It wouldn't take very long at all. As they focused back on the room, her conversation with Joseph continued without any gaps or silence.

"Glad to hear you got him talking. Though if the trash could take out itself, we'd be sitting somewhere much more fun for this evening I think. Tony will be happy to hear that we can verify the issues been resolved. I'll leave that up to you boys though, he hates hearing news from his sister." She winked, settling in the circle of the most mess as she continued working. When he went on to ask her a question, she seemed surprised that he wanted to know more about her. She couldn't help the chuckle that passed her lips as his description of her, and what her past life was. "Yes, I am a nurse - never stopped keeping up with the nursing requirements - I just don't do it for a job anymore." When the name Marco crossed his lips though, a pained bolt of energy shot through her, but she quickly tamped it down and put it in a mental box to never be dealt with later. There was a frostiness to her voice as she answered him.

"Marco and I dated briefly. That's all it ever was. He was in jail the majority of it. For all I'm concerned about it now, it was just a girlish crush. I've long since moved on to a finer taste in men." Her eyes perused him teasingly before she was back at work, sweeping up the finer trash into a pile. "As for how he got away with it - that's complicated." She stopped, leaning on the broom, tapping the handle against her lips in a thoughtful motion. "A lot of things fell into place at the right time - and luck. A lot of luck." Shrugging and making a brushing motion at the air with her hands, as if physically brushing way the memory, she focused on keeping her arms busy. "That's the gist of it, at least on the easiest to explain level."

 

[NanLia]

The Fox and Hounds Pub
- Ladywood, Birmingham, England -
- Evening -
Frankie Mancini​

Frankie watched Hannah closely as she moved behind the bar, clocking every shift in her expression—the clipped sarcasm, the practiced composure, the flicker of concern that passed too quickly for anyone else to catch. It was that last part that always got him.

When she handed him the pint, he met her eyes briefly before dropping his gaze to the glass. “Cheers, love.” He took a slow sip, then rested the pint on the polished wood with a gentle thunk. “Shame I missed the show. Bloke pickin’ on a lass behind the bar—would have paid good money to watch the thrashing you gave him.”

“She alright?” he asked, nodding toward the back where the barmaid had likely slipped off for her break. “I know what it’s like—first time someone talks to you like you’re less’n dirt..”

Then he turned his eyes back to Hannah, and something softer flickered in them—brief, private. “And you—you didn’t need to lift a finger ‘cause they already know better.”

He let that sit for a moment before breaking into a small, crooked grin, the one that always came out just for her. “But if they ever forget, well… you know I’m happy to remind ‘em.”

The words were teasing, but the undercurrent wasn’t. Frankie had made peace long ago with the kind of man he was—rough around the edges, quiet in his loyalty, and dangerous if you poked the wrong nerve. But for Hannah, he tried to stay just on the right side of trouble.

When she asked if everything was okay, he blew out a breath. “Not bad, just… been feelin’ the stillness lately.” He shrugged one broad shoulder, eyes scanning the crowd. “You ever get that? Like the quiet’s just waitin’ to drop something on your head.”

He didn’t need to say more. They both knew the kind of lives they’d led, the kind of people they were. Trouble had a way of circling back.

“But I’m glad you’re good. Means the night's not a waste.” He lifted the pint again, tipped it in her direction. “And since you’re feelin’ generous, maybe I’ll steal more than just a moment—if you’re not too busy bein’ the boss tonight.” The smirk returned, but his gaze lingered a second longer than usual. “How about I close the bar with you tonight?”

Misty Gray - Hannah Pearson

O'Shae's Curios and Provisions
- Birmingham, England -
- Afternoon -

Maggie O'Shea
​

Maggie didn’t respond right away. She sat back in the settee opposite him, legs crossed under her skirt in a lazy, catlike way that suggested control more than comfort. The cigar she had stolen now hung from her fingers like a trophy, untouched..

"You always this dramatic when you're bored, or am I just the lucky recipient today?" She leaned forward, finally tucking the cigar between her lips, and lit it with the brass lighter she kept tucked in the folds of her skirt. One drag, long and practiced, and then she exhaled with a sigh, the smoke curled upward toward the pressed tin ceiling. “Mm. Alright, I’ll give you this one, McConnnel. They’re proper.”

She let silence settle in again, long enough for it to feel deliberate.

“You think I keep this place open ‘cause I like dustin’ shelves and haggling with old men over cracked teapots?” She tapped ash delicately into a nearby tray, one of her better ones—cut glass, with a little etched flower pattern that caught the sunlight. “I keep it open ‘cause people like you get bored. And when you’re bored, you get sloppy. And when you get sloppy… you get generous.”

The smile that followed was quicksilver—too fast to trust, too sharp to ignore.

“You want entertaining? I’ve got a Polish violin with a false bottom, two crates of unregistered Swiss watches, and a baker’s widow tryin’ to offload a stack of bearer bonds she swears were her husband’s retirement plan. And that’s just since breakfast.”

She stood, flicking the ash again, and walked to a nearby cabinet. A key appeared from the same deep pocket the lighter had, and she turned the lock with a soft click. Out came a slim velvet-lined box, long and narrow.

"But if we’re talkin’ trade and not charity, I’ve something else that may suit your taste better." She returned to her seat, setting the box down in front of him. Inside, a gold-plated Colt 1903 Pocket Hammerless, artfully engraved, the mother-of-pearl grips gleaming in the light.

“Came from a late priest who ran out of sins to forgive and started collecting debts instead. It's been cleaned, polished, never traced. You want flashy? Dangerous? Entertainin’? There you go. But it ain’t goin’ cheap—not unless you’re offerin’ more than your usual charm.”

She leaned back again, and that glint in her eye—half challenge, half dare.

“Your move, love. Or are we just gonna sit here, admirin’ each other like portraits on a wall?”
BasDorcha - Vinny McConnell

 

[ReverseTex]

Walker Holiday Mansion
-Buxton, Peak District National Park, England-
Misty Gray
BasDorcha

Richard Finley​

For now, Richard chose to ignore the obvious tension at the table. The issue between Robert and Alfie was entirely their own. Over the last few years, it had become increasingly obvious to those in the family that Alfie wanted more. Of course, he knew from his conversations with Robert that Alfie wanted his father to retire. His own retirement had prompted a few conversations about the subject; however, consulting for Felicity’s and Robert’s businesses was enough of a job to keep him busy, along with the occasional university lecture engagements. He was still a busy man for his age. Though he recognized Alfie’s argument, he knew better than to attempt to slow Robert down in life. That would be like asking Sisyphus to stop rolling his boulder.

The wrinkle in all of this, especially for his nephew, had been the addition of the Mohrens. At first, Richard’s inclusion of both Alex and Maria had been out of debt. Debt to Ava Mohren’s sacrifice… Though over the last six years, what felt like obligation shortly shifted into something more. Their relationship was complex, like most in this family, but the closest he could ascribe it to was his and Ripley’s relationship. It was banterful and raw, like his and Robert’s. But there was a layer of paternal care, like Ripley had poured into him decades ago and maintained through the remainder of his life. Though he had known his nieces and nephews longer, his role as their uncle had been completely different than his role to Alex.

With those thoughts in mind, he held his tongue throughout the remainder of Robert’s remarks. Getting Tony back into a productive mindset would be a necessity for the meeting with Aidan. With the integration of Rory in the family, the two families’ fates were interwoven now more than ever. With Caroline well gone, rest her soul, it did make navigating the peaceful dynamics easier in that regard.

The abrupt dismissal of the younger men slightly surprised Richard, though he recognized Robert’s frustrations. Before they departed, he gave a slight nod to Alex, indicating they’d have a private chat at some point today. The trail back to the mansion continued behind Robert, the direction Richard was facing in now, so he kept his eyes on both men as they left. Once the two men were out of earshot, Robert was keen to stoke conversation. “I’ll despair for you, since you think speaking ill on my birthday will do harm somehow.” Richard scoffed, amused at his brother’s attempts to keep the peace. “But yes, it’s been a pleasant day and trip so far, so I won’t complain on that end.” He added. “He’s been increasingly frustrated lately with this sort of thing.” Richard remarked, alluding to Alfie. “Is this about the retirement bollocks resurfacing? Because if so, I thought you made that clear years ago.” He inquired.

 

[Misty Gray]

The Horizon Lounge
- Downtown Birmingham, England-
- Late Evening -

Aidan Jones​

Aidan nodded along when Paddy explained why he and his gang chose to remain where they did. Maybe it was pride or something else that made them content to remain in the rougher areas. Whatever it was, he would leave them to it. For himself, the territory he occupied wasn't enough for him. He wasn't happy to keep his operations limited to where his father had started out. He wanted to tap into more business in central areas, where the environment appeared less bleak. Away from the slums.

He watched Paddy stand, the man clearly wanting to stretch his legs a little. Aidan raised a curious eyebrow when he expressed the consensus that the two didn't appear to be on the same page. He subtly nodded his head, but let Paddy continue speaking. The man compared himself to a caged street dog, talking about catching squirrels. Aidan let the man go on. It was becoming clear it was unlikely they could work together. He wasn't sure what Paddy wanted out of business, but it seemed disorganised and feral. No way to succeed in this environment, as far as Aidan was concerned. Perhaps these dogs, as Paddy put it, had belonged caged. Clearly unable to control themselves and lacking the brainpower needed for this business. Aidan smirked when Paddy spoke of being free to chase squirrels now. He really didn't see the benefit to engaging in a partnership with a man resembling a street thug. There were enough of those already under his employment.

Aidan was caught off guard when Paddy grabbed his collar and wrapped his arm around Aidan's neck. Not many years ago, he wouldn't have had the chance as Aidan wouldn't have let his guard down, but it was clear he'd become too comfortable since the peace deal. Aidan gasped for breath as Paddy began speaking again, having caught the squirrel now. It became apparent Paddy had never had any intention of accepting the proposal and working together. The repetitive thumping of the nightclub music came to a sudden, eerie stop. The lights in the office briefly went off before the room was illuminated again, powered by the generator. Aidan used the moment to attempt breaking free of Paddy's hold, but the bulkier man was much stronger.

Paddy adjusted his hold over Aidan, allowing him to catch his breath back but at the cost of his head then being firmly pressed against the desk. His futile attempts to wriggle free came to a sudden halt at the revelation of the explosives fitted to Sarah's car. Along with this, Dylan was in the firing line too. "Leave them out of this!" he furiously demanded. "This is between you and me, you coward!" he hissed, once again attempting to resist the man's hold. "A dog? No, you're vermin. A rat!" he hissed. After a deep breath, he tried to calm his tone. "Leave my family out of this and let us talk again. You'll only be doing the Walkers a favour! And my proposal was never set in stone," he reasoned. Hopefully he could buy some time, to give Rhys and his men time to intervene.

ReverseTex (Paddy)

 

[BeyondDandy]

Walker Holiday Mansion
- Buxton, Peak District National Park, England -

GRAHAM SMITH
​

Graham sipped his water, his gaze shifting to the bushes where Robert and the others had vanished, then to the iron gates at the end of the long asphalt drive. He couldn't help himself; the behavior was engraved in him. Even now, in the sunlight, surrounded by laughing and clinking drinks, he was still monitoring exits, identifying blind spots, and observing body language. Being a member of Robert's security squad had etched that into his bones. And while the profession had evolved over time, instincts had not.

His eyes returned to Felicity. She was stunning like this, relaxed and sun-kissed, letting her guard down in a manner only he could perceive. He adored it. But even then, an aspect of him kept on guard. Her protector.

She perched her sunglasses on her head and grinned at him, fun and genuine all at once. He chuckled quietly at her remark about the weather. “If we'd scheduled a summer wedding, we'd be sitting in a field of water right now with your father trying to rent an indoor venue from a rival CEO," he told me with a grin. "We chose the right date. Besides, the weather is only showing off because it knows it wasn’t invited."

But then she moved, her voice falling slightly as she threw him that sharp look that said, this part is important. He listened closely, as he always did, and she advised him not to bring up Cairo. He understood the tension there—Robert's past, the war, the ghosts—and how protective Felicity had grown of their fragile peace.

Graham's brow wrinkled slightly. He turned to her, taking a second to respond as he gathered his thoughts. He turned serious.

"I won't say anything, don’t worry," he whispered softly. But you understand the way I feel towards secrets, Felicity. They usually develop teeth in the dark. The truth isn’t as harmful as the lie you did not intend to tell."

He stopped, letting his fingers graze across hers on the armrest.

“You don't have to tell him right now. But eventually? I believe you should. He respects you. He is proud of you, even if he does not express it much. And you shouldn't be prancing around his feelings. That is his job, not yours.”

Despite the gravity of his statements, he smiled when she pouted at him. He leaned in, gently placing his forehead against hers. “No arguing this weekend. I'll keep Cairo under wraps. When the dust settles, tell him. It will benefit both of you."

Then, with a look over her shoulder at the patio and the faraway bustle of conversation, Graham reclined back, resuming his peaceful vigil over all that was around them — but feeling unsettling as Robert, Richard, Alex and Alfie disappeared down the trails.

He reached for her hand. “Hey,” he started quietly. “I know you don’t like me talking about business but you need to speak to your brother. There’s something brewing inside him. For a while I thought it was childish jealousy, the tick of a little boy wanting the attention of his father, but lately…” he pushed for a moment. He squeezed her hand tighter. “Alfie isn’t stupid, but he’s emotional. Alex has risen in the business much faster than any of us anticipated. I’m not privy to what happens behind closed doors, I don’t want to be, but I care about your family. I care about your brother. Whatever’s going on in his head, it’s not healthy. Will you speak with him?”

Misty Gray

 

[BeyondDandy]

Fletcher’s Home
- Aston, Birmingham, England -

GRADY EVANS
​

Grady lingered near the dining room window, perspiring from the heat as he held the glass of water. He wasn't used to extended silences, but everything related to being there—in that home, on that road, flanked by those who shared his bloodline but not his memories—made words feel heavier.

"I'm sorry about Sully," he added finally, staring at Julia. "I didn't know him particularly well. But from what I've heard, it sounds like the world's somewhat colder without him."

Grady looked at her for a moment before nodding. "You and I didn't grow up together. Our old man prepared us for life in his own demented way."

He gave her a slight smile. “He had two separate lives, multiple households, and some way managed to find time to show us how to land the right punch."

Grady chuckled. “He once told me, 'If you're going to be a bastard, be a smart one.' Don't start arguments you can't win, and never cry in front of someone who wants to see you hurt. I was nine."

"I remember this one time," Grady said, his eyes unfocused, "I got jumped on my way home from school. Three guys older than me. One of them possessed a long bread knife, the type that appeared tough but could barely cut butter. I came back with a cracked lip and a gushing nose. I thought he'd hug me. Instead he handed me an old set of boxing gloves and said, 'You've got one week to figure out how to make somebody regret touching you.’ We fought in the backyard every single night after that. Never got jumped again."

"He was ruthless at times… but he meant well."

They stood for a minute in silence, two sides of the same lineage, each fashioned by a different household but bearing identical scars.

Grady returned his gaze to the window, where he saw Tony in the garden, shirt soaked with sweat, casually chasing a football while his son ran around with incredible excitement. Tony let out a melodramatic moan as the ball drifted by him inside the goal.

"Do you see that in him?," the man asked about Tony as Marty rushed towards the doors.

Grady grinned slightly. "They grow up fast, huh?" He said, changing the subject.

Then, Grady's focus turned as a stranger emerged through the patio door. A tall man, broad-shouldered and anxious, called Tony over. Grady noticed the change right away: the easygoing father vanished, overtaken by the hard-edged authority he'd heard about. Grady recognized the look from battlefields and back alleys, when men bore the burden of too countless others on their backs.

Tony entered shortly after, his forehead moist with sweat and his tone easygoing yet sharp. He did not offer a kiss, but rather a beer.

Grady smirked. "Unless you've got an authentic lager refrigerated in an underground cellar with Gregorian hymns blasting in the background, I'll pass." He had expensive taste.

He repositioned himself and nodded towards the garden. "I saw that you were talking out there. Didn’t look to be about football. Did something happen?”

His tone was gentle, but there was grit beneath it. Julia had not invited him there for a vacation. Grady had previously dealt with gangsters, tyrants, and failed empires—and if things were deteriorating here, he planned to find out how far the rot extended.

Misty Gray
neverbackdown

 

[BasDorcha]

Walker Holiday Mansion

- Buxton, Peak District National Park, England -
(present scene time)
ReverseTex - Lisa Evans​

Dean Walters

A wink was all Dean gave Lisa at calling him her hero. The broad grin that came with it spoke enough. It was easy enough for him to relax and be friendly with anyone - after all that was literally his job. Still, Lisa had been a boon of healing for Robert and he wanted her to feel like part of the family. He looked out the window when she mentioned the men working. His eyes could just make out the forms of Alfred and Alex walking away and back towards them, Richard and Rob still hidden behind the foliage. A chuckle was all he could offer. "You know him. He can't admit he's old, thinks he's still twenty-five. Plus, with Alfred getting older now, the constant reminder of youth and their restless energy typically pushes us ancient folks into trying to save face." He watched Alfred move closer, talking to Alex, his demeanor from this distance giving nothing by way of what he was feeling. Alfred could have been talking to a stranger on the street for all the emotional response he was giving. Dean shook his head. Alfred reminded him of himself - eager to prove himself, to a point that it came off as pushy and stubborn. But Dean had come to know the younger man well over the last six years, and knew he had a heart of gold. With time he'd learn to express himself better, to translate his ideas clearer, as well as when and how to express his emotions appropriately. If Dean could do it, so could Alfred.

"No, Rob will probably work until he's under the dirt, and even then he'll be directing people from the afterlife on how to plan the welcome party." He laughed, wagging his eyebrows at Lisa in a you gotta admit I'm right kind of way. When she asked about Daniel, he shrugged. "Daniel is easy to please. He likes to read, and more than once I've found him sitting somewhere writing or drawing happily while everyone else is busy. I do wish he had more family around his age, but he's got friends back home. He likes the family events none the less. Besides, he made friends with that pretty little girl next door, after spending half the time watching her from afar." He turned to look out the front of the house, just barely able to see the front windows from where they sat if he angled right. As he thought, Daniel sat with Angela, the neighbors teenage daughter on the porch.

Smiling at Lisa, he started placing the settings around the table as he stood and moved around. He could tell that she had a mile long list of questions in her head, her rapt attention and eagerness to pump him for details tickling his senses. With Robert a brick wall of information, it wasn't hard to see why. What surprised him was her question about his gift for the birthday boy. Unable to stop it, a blush rose up his cheeks and turned his skin crimson. Awkwardly he brushed the back of his head, looking away quickly. "Um, well…" He swallowed. He hadn't told anyone what he was planning. Reaching into his blazer pocket, he pulled out a worn leather notebook, tattered around the edges, pages yellowed with age. He didn't hand it over, but he fingered the cover lovingly.

"This is a journal I kept during my time in the service, and finished a few years after I left Birmingham. It mostly revolves around our… relationship, time in the service, and how I really felt after I left. I don't know if it’s the right move, but I hope it is." Dean thought about the words of love, of regret, of pain in the pages. Things he had never properly said to Richard. Tucking it back away, he turned his eyes back to the table. "You'd tell me if it was a terrible idea right?" He tried to grin and keep it light hearted, despite the nerves now rushing his limbs.

 

[ReverseTex]

The Horizon Lounge
- Downtown Birmingham, England -
Misty Gray

Paddy Crane​

Although amused by Aidan’s fruitless attempts and curses to free himself, Paddy didn’t take his desolation lightly. He was eradicating a bloodline for the

greater good, at least in his eyes. There could be no survivors, no one to thirst for revenge. Scorched Earth was the only path forward in order to cleanse the city entirely… “I’m doing everyone in this city a favor.” Paddy said flatly, He wasn’t giving this piece of shit another second to plead for his life. Another quick action: snatching Aidan’s head in his palm, he quickly raised his head before slamming the man’s temple down into the corner of the desk. A simple death for an extravagant man.

As insurance, Paddy repeated the action twice more. The light splatter of blood cued him he’d done enough damage to render Aidan’s brain useless. The husk crumbled to the floor once he released his grip, rendered lifeless. A good start, he thought to himself. Two more men to go.

Glancing at his watch, he had precisely five minutes till his driver was to leave without him. Now that Paddy was behind the desk itself, he noticed a square-shaped safe behind him on the wall. The squirrels hoard nuts. He chuckled to himself, an idea coming to mind. The safe clearly needed unlocking with a special key designed to be put in. Paddy squatted down, careful to avoid staining his clothes or shoes with the forming pool of blood. The last thing he needed was to leave a trail. It took a few moments of rummaging through the dead man’s pockets to find his keys. Once he removed them, he sifted through them till spotting the right one. Then, he unlocked the safe.

Piles of cash were neatly stacked in the safe. The club’s revenue had been counted and banded together, awaiting pickup. Well, in theory, the assets were his now. At least in the world they lived and worked in, the spoils belonged to the victor. Paddy carefully removed a band, ripping the tab to free the thousand pounds. The rest he left in place, having no need or desire for the money. Then, he lightly fanned the stack before tucking it loosely in Aidan’s limp hand.

Greed was what killed Aidan Jones and his family. Not him. Not his friends. Not the IRA. Paddy examined his handiwork, lightly rubbing his bloodied hands on his pants. “A vermin, huh?” He chuckled, thinking back to Aidan’s dying words. “Fine by me.” He said to the silence, turning his back on the writings on the wall.

​

Walker Holiday Mansion
- Buxton, Peak District National Park, England -
(present scene time)
BasDorcha

Lisa Evans
​

Secretly, she was glad it wasn’t

“I still feel twenty-five; I can’t blame him!" Lisa lightly laughed. She certainly wasn’t a proponent of Robert slowing down, or anyone around them doing so for that matter. For now, everything seemed to be in its place. “I can tell you for a fact he has; I wrote his bloody will.” She joked. Sure, at first the nature of her involvement in the family’s legal affairs was an odd dynamic in the relationship. But to be fair, considering their initial affair ran decades ago when she first got involved with the Walker family, it felt more foreign without it. For better or for worse, she was entrapped in their legal affairs with or without sleeping with Robert Walker.

“Well, that’s good to hear. I imagine teenage boys are a handful at times.” She politely commented. Though she couldn’t speak from experience, plenty of her girlfriends aired their grievances to her. Dean’s description of his son’s bookish nature brought an amused smile to her face. “Sounds like he and Richard get along well, hmm?” It felt like a more polite way to ask what she truly wondered: how did the boy feel about the relationship?

Though her original question was answered first, bringing out a boyish blush in Dean. She mirrored his movements, placing the other side of the table with its silverware as they worked. “Come on now, don’t be shy! I love this sort of stuff!” She pried, genuinely interested. “If you’re worried about how I feel, don’t be. I’m actually happy to hear Richard doesn’t sit at home all day and hide in his library by himself. That’s what I thought he did for fun for a few years, until I bumped into him and Robert at a fundraising dinner a few decades ago.” The anecdote reminded her of what turned into another rendezvous with Robert. It took a smile to push the memory aside before refocusing. “But he said he’d just gotten back from Greece on a trip with an old friend.” She raised a knowing brow, not at the turmoil but rather at what she knew Robert intended to gift Richard for his birthday.

Lisa observed the notebook from her end of the table. It looked well-loved, tanned, and wrinkled with age, just like the two of them. It was clearly a sentimental item to Dean; gifting it away certainly couldn’t be easy. But from how things stood, at least in her eyes, she gave a soft smile. “I’d certainly tell you if I thought it was stupid. I don’t.” She nodded. “But we all know who knows Richard best, and even he’s been complaining that he’s hard to shop for.” She lightly joked. “Apparently he’s hard to gift for! I went out and bought him a nice jumper and tie for the winter—proper designer stuff—and Robert made me take it back. He said he’d never wear it! Prefers his eclectic assortment of clothes and saves him money. He’s got plenty to treat himself with!”

Though she was a shopper at heart, she respected Robert’s opinion and did as she was instructed. “It seems like you know what you’re doing with it. I’m sure he’ll like it. He likes books, so I can’t imagine he would hate that.” Lisa nodded at the journal.

 

[BasDorcha]

Walker Holiday Mansion

- Buxton, Peak District National Park, England -
- Afternoon -

Misty Gray - Robert/Alex
ReverseTex - Richard​

Alfred Walker

As he finally brought himself out of his own mind, he looked to see the looks of disapproval on everyone's face. He sighed to himself, sitting up straighter, making himself more available. His father and him may not see eye to eye, but Alfred did respect and love his father. There were a lot of layers to the way he was feeling, long standing issues that couldn't be solved overnight, but they didn't need Alfred making this worse. Anxiously, he straightened his sleeves, a motion that had become habit over the last few years. After his mother had died, it left a scar on him that never fully healed. It turned his protectiveness to ten, and his goals had changed dramatically. Foolish as it might be, Alfred had it in his head if he could just prove himself, he could take all the danger on himself instead of his family. He couldn't lose his dad the way he lost his mom. He didn't know if he could handle it. He knew his father thought he just wanted the position, to push him out, but he didn't know how to tell his dad he feared on a primal level that he would be there to hold him as he died, the way he did his mother. Somehow, if he said it out loud, it would feel like speaking it into existence.

He nodded along at the talks of Aidan. He had already learned his father really didn't want him handling the man. It only caused pressure between them and he had metaphorically thrown his hands up at it. He instead abstained from speaking or giving opinions, because he still felt that peace was not the way to go with him. Aidan was conniving, vindictive, and deserved nothing less than to be smothered. He would never forgive the man that killed his mother, no matter his reasons. Much in the way that Aidan had been forged by the death of his father, it stood to reason Alfred could follow a similar path. For now though, short of downright ignoring his father's wishes and rebelling, he could do nothing. He handled paper work, politicians, legal entities, drug shipments, warehouses. Everything else. But it all felt like less than work compared to dealing with Aidan. The newest golden child got to do the real work.

He couldn't let his brain slip back into stewing, so he mentally shook it off while refocusing his attention to his father as he continued. "Don't worry, the new warehouse is fitted with all the newest technology, and will be much better organized than the last with all the new room we will have." When the conversation turned to Tony, who Alfred had developed a friendship with since the incident that turned everything, Alred didn't have to pretend to be interested. If it had to do with Tony, he wanted to help. Giving an affirmative nod, he said, "I'll talk to Tony. I agree that he needs to get a handle on things. I don't know what's been going on, but maybe I can get through to him. We may need to consider the alternatives of what happens if he can't though, after we get home."

As Robert dismissed them, he stood stretched, clapping both his dad and Ricard on the shoulder as he walked by. "I'll go see if anyone needs help with dinner. Alex, we can put you to work too." The words were not as friendly as they could have been, but it was obvious he was trying. As the two of them walked back, Alfred considered not speaking to the man unless he had too, but something in him told him to stop being an ass, in a very Bonnie like voice. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, as he thought about her. Not that he'd ever tell her, but she'd love to know his conscience was using her voice. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, trying to find something to say. He didn't hate Alex as a person, he seemed like an alright guy. It was more about what Alex represented that made him so angry. Alex had been here for only a few years and he already had risen to the same level as himself. It was like time had stopped for Alfred while everyone else got to move forward. He felt stuck, unable to do more and unable to go back to being carefree like he used to be.

"For what it's worth, I appreciate your attentiveness to Aidan. I know my father believes in his peace treaty, but I think Aidan is just biding his time. If he gives you a feeling of concern, I'd put money on you being right." He still hadn't learn to control his voice as much as his facial features, so the words came out sounding more sharp and graveled with his frustration than intended, but for once he dropped the mask to show he was trying to be sincere. He didn't have to like that his father and Richard seemed to favor Alex lately, it didn't mean he shouldn't try to be at least casual with him. It was confusing mentally for Alfie, trying to figure out where his emotions stood and where they stemmed from, and trying to figure out if some of the feelings might be misplaced, so he couldn't blame Alex if he was confused as well. Looking back towards the house and staying a few steps ahead, he fell silent again, not sure how to continue.

 

[Misty Gray]

Apartment Block
- Ladywood, Birmingham, England -
- Evening -

Joseph Worthington​

Joseph had maintained his composure when Penny called him handsome. Usually he'd have had a quip roll straight off his tongue for it, but not today. They were working, after all. Still, he couldn't deny the blonde was attractive. He'd already acknowledged that some time ago when they'd first met.

He didn't have a son, but he was sure a teenage boy would be easier to deal with. Penny seemed to echo that by speaking from her own experience of being a teenage girl. Granted, Joseph was sure Rhiannon acted out more to punish him for all of the time he wasn't there for her. He couldn't blame her for it, even if it was a solid test of patience at times. She was stubborn and awkward, but at the same time, vulnerable and someone he would protect at all costs.

"Sadly, this trash can't take itself out. Maybe next time we'll opt to interrogate by the docks and leave 'em to rot with any marine life tough enough to sustain life in the canal," he remarked. Joseph nodded his head when Penny confirmed she was a nurse and still doing that in some regards. "Well, I know who to come to if I can't get a GP appointment," he teased.

Penny confirmed that she had dated Marco for a short time, then stated she'd since moved on to better men, prompting a grin from Joseph. "I'd say the bar was set pretty low with him," he couldn't help but comment. Joseph had known Charles Walker. Though Robert's firstborn son was generally abrasive and ruthless, it wasn't his entire personality. When he clocked off from work, Charles had shown a more human side and Joseph had shared some nights out with him. The last night of which had been three weeks before Marco killed him. Then, Charles had been gushing about his fiancée and his excitement about the wedding. Despite all of the work he did for his parents, Charles had thought getting married was what would have made his parents the most proud. But then, Charles was killed and many people acted as though it was deserved. Joseph's own father had been stabbed and left to die out on the street, but he'd thankfully got to be there for the man's final moments. Charles died alone, without a loved one by his side, and now Marco was already walking the streets a free man. "You can do a million times better than him," he added, wanting to make sure Penny didn't feel belittled by his comment about setting the bar low. "You deserve a decent bloke."

Joseph nodded in agreement about Marco having a lot of luck. The way she brushed off the subject suggested to him he shouldn't press it any further. "Well, I'm sure karma will catch up to him some day." Still wearing his gloves, Joseph crouched down to securely tie one of the trash bags. "It looks like we're nearly done here," he commented, glancing to his watch. "Perhaps there's time for a drink after? On me, of course, for making you work this late."

BasDorcha (Penny)