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Construction Site
~ Limehouse, London ~

Damian Nicolosi and Zachary Costa

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Damian had stood by patiently as Abel visibly trembled. He hovered like a hawk, watching the young man closely as he awaited how he would react to the order he'd been given. When Abel didn't reach for the gun and instead protested that he wasn't a killer, a crooked smile crept onto Damian's lips. "Yet. You're not a killer yet," he corrected him. "If your wife doesn't deserve this, then do what I've asked and she won't need to be a part of it," he encouraged him.

Abel eventually stepped forward and Damian allowed him to take the gun from him. Something of an excited glint could be detected in Damian's eyes, should anyone look his way, as he watched Abel raise the gun in both hands to point at the back of his victim's head. Still, he rolled his eyes when Abel quietly apologised to the squirming, gagged victim. Eventually, Abel squeezed the trigger and the largest of smiles took over Damian's face. There was no sound of gunfire, nor any splashing of blood and other matter. The gun had never been loaded as there had been no intention of making Abel a murderer today. This had been a test and Abel had managed to pass it. It did mean Damian wouldn't get to have Alice slaughtered, but somehow this outcome still felt satisfying to him. Perhaps it was the sight of Abel traumatised in front of him that made him almost as happy as he would have been making a mess out of Alice.

Reaching down, Damian prised the gun from Abel's hands before giving him a firm squeeze of the shoulder. "You did good, kid. I'll make sure the boss knows how well you did tonight," he assured him, like he was doing him a favour and he'd passed some induction at a new job. "We'd make quite a good team," he added. Looking at Jake with a grin on his face, he then pointed to Zachary outside. "Get him to help you put this mess back in the car," he told him as he used his foot to kick the sobbing victim knelt at his feet.

Focusing back on Abel, Damian made it so the young man looked at him. "Once I'm safely away, I'll call off my men from outside your house. Get yourself off home to Alice now. Your conscience is clean, kid," he assured him, despite knowing full well the real toll the events will have just taken on Abel.

Once the three men were back at the car, Damian waited for Zachary and Jake to drag the unknown man into the car boot again. Once they had, he opened the car door to retrieve a syringe from the car's glove compartment and returned to inject the sedative into the man's arm. Tossing the needle in the back with the victim, he then slammed the car boot shut. "Give me the keys," he told Zachary, to which the man briefly hesitated before complying. "I'm driving now. Where do you two want dropping off?" he asked his teammates. Only when they were all in the car and the vehicle was in motion did he readdress who was tied up in the boot. "I'll deal with our guest. He's not actually one of the Kings, you know," he revealed. "He's some cop who stuck his nose in too much and needed teaching a lesson, by his own team's admission. Once I offload him, he's not our problem anymore."

After a short silence, he then addressed the two men again. "Where am I dropping you both? Your homes or some club?" he knowingly asked.

BasDorcha BasDorcha (Abel) neverbackdown neverbackdown (Jake)
 
Davies Residence
~ Kensington, London ~

Christian Brooks

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Christian was aware when Alessia placed her hand on his knee, but he had no problem with her keeping it there. Somehow, it helped to reassure him he wasn't alone. When she apologised for getting him water instead of whiskey, he let out a dry scoff. "Well, I was trying to be polite, but I did think you were being quite inhospitable," he said, managing a smile to assure her he was joking. She left the kitchen to retrieve a harder drink than water. As he sat on his own, Christian rested his elbow on the counter and massaged his forehead as the mental exhaustion of the day made attempts to fully catch up with him.

The last decade had been difficult for him, trying to do the right thing by helping those affected by the Carters rise to power. In his mind, he'd been technically acting on the side of the Kings the whole time, trying to see that the Carters were brought to justice. Yet, the whole time he'd had Trevor on his back painting him out to be scum purely because he returned to the police force. Somehow, now the Kings were back, he felt like things were just going to get worse as they looked down on him for the job he'd returned to in their absence. Along with how the argument with May had gone down, it was all piling up to hit him with the realisation that he would never get anywhere good by trying to do the morally right thing. For years, he'd worked tirelessly for his efforts to go unappreciated. Between the Carters, the Kings, and his work at for the Met Police, he was starting to believe he might have to put his morals aside to survive London and keep seeing his kids.

Christian snapped out of his thoughts and sat up straight again when Alessia returned to start focusing on the legalities of gaining custody of his children. When she pointed out the father rarely won those battles, he nodded his head. He already knew that, but it didn't make it any less frustrating to hear. "Especially the fathers who play the rules, eh?" he remarked. He cleared his throat, shocked that he'd actually said the words out loud rather than merely thinking them. She continued to paint the picture that women worse than May would win, only irritating him further. When the glass was slid towards him, he didn't hesitate to grip it and knock back the drink. "Thanks," he gruffly said to her.

"It is something I want to do. I should have divorced her years ago. She made out that I was keeping her prisoner, so it looks like both of us feel trapped. The only logical solution is to get a divorce. I can't keep living under the same roof as her. It will be worse for the kids if we stay together - they don't need that kind of environment. It'll be hard for them, but in the long run, they'll be happier with us separated." When Alessia asked if he was sure he was thinking it through, he nodded without hesitation. "I think part of me has been thinking this through for a long time. It just needed a nudge to bring it to the surface. No surprises that trigger was Trevor," he added. He briefly smiled at Alessia when she put forward solutions such as therapy. "I appreciate the suggestions, but it would be pointless. I don't love May and no amount of therapy can change that. I won't subject the kids to living in a household where their parents feel trapped with each other." Christian quickly shook his head. "No. We're done. I would rather we could just agree to share custody of the kids, but May threatened to take them away from me, even to Ireland to live with her bloody brother. What kind of father would I be if I just let her take my kids away like she says she will?" he asked. "Why is it that doing the right thing never pays off? All of this came about tonight because I've been trying to do my job and help the civilians in this city who don't have a voice. But nobody, not even them, cares. Perhaps it is time I started being more selfish and played dirty too." He shrugged his shoulders. "Taking the moral high ground hasn't got me anywhere in life. Perhaps it is time I put myself first."

Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess (Alessia)
 
Tonic Tavern
~London ~

Dawson Rogers

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Dawson had rolled his eyes as Emery asked if he had a drinking problem. Then she alluded to the fact that she was a very bad influence if that was the case, saying that alcohol was in her family's DNA. The joke was not offputting in itself but Dawson tried to steer clear of jokes about alcoholism, just because of his ex-wife and everything he'd gone through with her. So, as he normally did, the man just simply laughed. "No need to worry. I just find that this is one of the more quiet joints around these parts. And I enjoy the occasional drink. But hey, like I said, as many beers as you need to forget that I maimed you." He flashed her a bit of an uneasy smile before he switched to full Dad mode. He was silent, observing the damage he did. Feeling instantly horrible seeing the wound up close. The conversation carried on, and he smiled at her comment about wanting to feel special. "It's not often I offer to help someone like this, so you should feel special." He easily replied, his eyes glancing up at her for a moment before getting back to work. He patiently waited for permission to touch her leg so that he could clean up the wound and when she nodded he gave her another smile. Emery then said that it was only her knee, it wasn't like he was touching her chest or anything and Dawson's cheeks grew about as red as they could get.

He didn't laugh, but just kept nodding and cleaning up her leg as she seemed to mentally stop herself from talking further. "No no, I get it. I just...uh...was not expecting you to say that." He said, with the smallest of laughs now. Dawson's eyes glanced upwards at her as she revealed that she lived in New York for a while, causing his eyes to light up like the 4th of July. She wasn't showing any discomfort to the alcohol wipe luckily, which was good as he continued to clean and moved on further in the process of getting her fixed up. "I guess that's true. I'll eventually run into that I'm sure." He said and when she spoke of living in Dublin, his eyebrows raised, "Quite the traveler. Family in the military or something?" Dawson asked.

Once everything was patched up, Dawson moved to clean his hands with an alcohol wipe before putting the contents of the kit away. Laughing at the new nickname, he rolled his eyes. "I feel like you're just going to keep adding to this nickname. First I'm a Barger, now I'm a Dr. Barger. Didn't realize I could get a PhD in that. But hey, glad I could help you. I did violently push you down after all. Sorry about that again." The man stood up straight before moving to sit in the booth with the med kit for the time being. He traded the kit for a pint that was brought to them and he just watched Emery take a long drink. Hearing that he was even with her now, he nodded his head but stopped once she said that he wasn't obligated to stay. Dawson didn't feel obligated to from the start. Normally, he'd feel he only be doing this out of sheer politeness but...there was something more to this interaction with the woman in front of him.

Laughing, Dawson looked over to the corner she was referring to, "That's the worst corner. What have I done to deserve such banishment?" He asked, "You might have to fight me for this booth when I'm in town, but I'm not always here so...if that's anything to you. I can't tell you my schedule. You know...I want this prime real estate. Booth might not seem like much but the tears in the leather seats make it oddly comfortable when you sit for hours on end." When her face turned more serious, Dawson's smile faded slightly. She asked what made him live in London, asking if he had friends and family.

While he was almost wishing that the question wouldn't come up...he knew he was kidding himself. Moving a hand behind his neck to scratch the back of his head, Dawson cleared his throat as he looked down at his beer mug. "I moved here because of my wife." He stated before shaking his head, "Well, ex-wife. My divorce is almost finalized. She is from London. Had family here. I moved with her after I graduated back in the States and found a job and it was all working out for a while until it wasn't." Dawson hated talking about his ex, feeling like he was giving her some sort of power over him still when he brought her into any conversation. But of course, Emery didn't know the whole story.

"What about you? What brings you to London?"
with: Emery Misty Gray Misty Gray
 
Erik's House
~ London ~

Billy King

374546487f24dd6428411f0b3ca8d6cb.gifThe Carters timed their exit well. The impromptu meeting was as unwelcome as it was unplanned, and Billy had been growing increasingly impatient to see the back of Ezekiel and Reign. He wasn’t used to dealing with that kind of animosity anymore; in his professions of architecture and carpentry, Billy only recalled working with a few insufferable team members or clients, and he was always able to remain professional in his interactions with them; his relationship with his abusive ex-boyfriend Florian required a different kind of professionalism: doing whatever it took to diffuse the tension, avoid a fight and keep his son out of harm’s way. But this situation he and his family now found themselves in with the Carters was different. They couldn’t afford to be submissive like Billy had often had to be with Florian, nor was it in their interest to find ways to work alongside them like he used to with his difficult team members or clients. It was going to involve strategy and technique that Billy wasn’t sure he was equipped with anymore.

He left his brother after a short debrief and went to sit for a few minutes in his car. From his right hand dangled a cigarette out of the open window, and in his left, an opened envelope on which he had scrawled down an address. He was about to head over to Erik’s house for the first time to pick up Charlie, whom Erik had offered to look after while Billy was out. Charlie often protested being watched over by anyone other than Billy as he considered himself - and to his own merit, he was - a very independent boy. However, ever since moving to London, he hadn’t been more interested in anything than he was in getting to know his new family - especially Erik.

After taking one last draw of his cigarette, Billy flicked it out of the window and set off towards the house. Anxiety fluttered in his chest in a way he didn’t want to interpret. Like he was excited, but also doing something wrong. Hendrik came to mind, his sweet, boyish smile and sparkling eyes. When once his boyfriend’s face had brought him comfort, it now gave him a sense of unease such that he often found himself trying not to think of him at all when he wasn’t around him.

London’s concrete jungle eventually tapered out, the road leading Billy to somewhere greener. It was getting dark and the waxing moon hung low in the sky, a dim orange orb reflecting the last strip of sunset. Unconsciously, Billy began to slow his driving as his surroundings became unexpectedly familiar. The anxiety moved down into his stomach and his heart began to ache as he realised where he was. When he had last been there. When he finally pulled into the driveway, there was a lump in his throat. He got out of the car and took a moment to gaze up at the house. The house he had designed. The house he had designed for him and Erik to raise Charlie in together, before…everything fell apart.

After managing to compose himself, Billy took a deep breath and headed for the door. In that moment, he had no idea what to feel, nor what he wanted to say. All he knew was that he wanted to see him. He rang the doorbell, before smiling up at the fanlight above the six-panel door. The man had stayed true to every detail of his design, his own modern twist on the Georgian façade that defined the streets he had grown up on.

Interactions
Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess Erik
 
The King Family Home
~ Bethnal Green, London ~

Shona King

1706661520836.pngThough she didn’t know it, Shona was probably the most prepared of all the parents in the family when it came to educating her children. It was proving difficult for everyone who had returned to London to suddenly enrol their children in new schools at the same time, especially since term had already begun, so none of them had found places yet. Fortunately, due to Lottie’s special educational needs, Shona had already been homeschooling her for years. All she needed were the new materials. That, and to learn to adjust to homeschooling Eddie, too. Eddie was a very social boy and was so far struggling to work in such a quiet environment without any friends around him to talk to and play football with, and Lottie, so used to having all of Shona’s focus on her during the day, now faced the challenge of sharing that attention with her brother. Suffice to say, Shona had a lot to keep her busy.

Now that the school day was over and dinner was in the oven, she was allowing herself some well-deserved time to relax. She sat on the sofa with her feet up and a glass of gin and tonic at her side, reading Possessing the Secret of Joy by Alice Walker, half listening out for the sound of the oven timer.

Her attention was stolen by the sound of the front door opening and a brief exchange between Lottie and Spencer, but kept on reading until she reached the end of her paragraph. When her husband finally stepped in through the door, she set the book down and stood to greet him, falling happily into his warm kiss and loving embrace. “Hello, my king,” she smiled. In his apology for being late, he informed her that he would be going clean-shaven as punishment. “Shame!” she pouted, running her long, freshly manicured fingernails through his beard. “I like the rugged sea captain look.” With a gentle tug, she pulled him in for another kiss. Despite her flirting, however, she could tell from the way he ran his hands through his hair that something was bothering him.

Upon hearing that he and Billy had run into Ezekiel and Reign, Shona’s face fell and she took her husband by the hand and guided him to the sofa so they could sit down together. “You mean they ambushed you?” she asked. “What the hell did they want? What do they know about us being back here? I thought…I mean, surely they at least don’t know what we’re doing here, right?”

Interactions
Misty Gray Misty Gray Spencer
 

Tonic Tavern
~ Queen's Park Station, London ~

Emery Callahan

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When Dawson pointed out that she was quite the traveller and then asked if her family was in the military, Emery wasn't immediately sure how to respond. She certainly couldn't tell a man she'd just met that she came from a family of organised criminals. "My dad used to be a soldier," she said, which was the best she could come up with without technically lying. He was a soldier, but not in the military. She was surprised at herself for wanting to be honest with this random guy. "My family don't like to stay in one place for too long. I think they get bored," she lightly added. Granted, it wasn't always their choice where they stayed!

"Trust me, I will keep adding to your nickname. I'm very committed to a cause, especially when it comes to winding people up," she teased. When he apologised again, she swiped her hand as if to bat away his apology. "You know, I may not have been paying full attention to my surroundings. Not that I'm saying you weren't at fault, just that... I didn't have my head in the game either," she told him.

When Dawson joked about not being about to tell her his schedule, she pouted back at him, but let him continue speaking. She couldn't help but smile when he continued to tell her how important the booth they were sitting in was to him. "The tears are certainly the main selling point," she went along with him.

Dawson answered her question, saying he moved to London because of his wife. She couldn't help but find his response disappointing, for some reason feeling let down that he was married. But just as quickly as that feeling came, it was replaced by relief when he corrected himself to say he was getting his divorce finalised. He explained how he'd moved from the United States to live with his ex. "Well, I'm sorry that didn't work out for you. Not everything is meant to be - my family have been proof of that," she said, thinking of how numerous family members hadn't stayed with their first loves or even first marriages, but had gone on to find happiness with others. "Are you planning on sticking around in London?" she curiously asked.

After having another drink of beer, she paused for a moment before entertaining the thought that was on her mind. "It's a shame you can't share you're schedule with me," she began, keeping her hand on her pint glass even after she'd set it back down on the table. "I was going to ask if you were free to meet up again some time. Away from trains and with minimal bloodshed," she suggested. "I've enjoyed this. Wounded knee and all!"

Bellz Bellz (Dawson)
 
The King Family Home
~ Bethnal Green, London ~

Spencer King

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Spencer held Shona's hand and let her lead him to the sofa. Sitting back and putting his feet up on the coffee table, he tried to let himself relax. Having already ditched his tie the second he left the office, he now just needed to unfasten the top couple of buttons from his shirt to give himself some breathing space.

"Ezekiel managed to intercept a meeting I had booked in, so he and Reign just waltzed on in like they owned the place," he explained. "He reckoned he wanted to discussed the contract with Carter Tech that's up for renewal. Of course, he was really there to size us up and swing his dick around too." Turning to Shona, he managed a reassuring smile for her. "Of course, I told him we ain't continuing the contact on account of the shit he's been pulling in London and with our family whilst we've been gone. Which then meant he could get to the real reason he'd shown up. They were both clearly interested in how we managed to come back, but Billy an' me told 'em fuck all about it. Which I'm certain pissed them,off " he said, smirking at that thought.

"It doesn't seem like they know how or why we're back. I've made it clear we're not going to stand for them treating our family and friends like shit anymore. They didn't take too kindly to that, of course. But they don't know about the Interpol mission. They didn't mention the Porters, but they're not stupid, so they must have at least pieced that part together, especially after I was with Syd when I caught their goons hassling Daisy." He let out a deep sigh. "I think I made myself clear that we're against them and won't be beaten into submission. The Irish and the Interpol lot had better be ready for what follows now."

Spencer put his arm around Shona and kissed the top of her head. "Right now, I'm just glad to be home with you. Have the kids been alright? I know Lottie was giving me lip for being late, but is she really doing alright? I was expecting a tantrum, but my punishment of shaving off my sexy beard seems like a bit of a let off!"

Pyroclast Pyroclast (Shona)
 
Davies Residence
~ Kensington, London ~
Alessia Davies
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Alessia knew - and could tell based on his facial expressions - that her words weren't helping ease his mind just then. She hadn't told them to try, either. She wanted to make sure he knew what was waiting for him if he truly did want to go down this path. In her earlier line of work, she'd seen just how dramatic certain trials could be and she was sure this would be no different. And with the sort of family his wife had, Christian had his work cut out for him. "Well, I mean," she started, raising her wine glass to her lips, "We can win this no problem. It just depends on several aspects that we can get into a later time." She then took a sip from her glass and returned it to the counter. Alessia prided herself on her ability to win all of her cases. Just because she might've been rusty with familial law didn't mean she was going to lose if he chose to let her represent him. It just meant that there were certain... Things he would have to be okay with her doing to make sure it happened.

Christian spoke up again and explained that he was more than sure a divorce is what he wanted. And just by looking into his eyes and paying attention to those tiny, bodily details she could tell it was. Alessia nodded her head. "Then, first things first is you look for a place for you and the kids. The two of you shouldn't be under the same roof - won't look serious enough to the judge if you are. The sooner you do that, love, the better." She'd nearly offered her place for temporary relief but quickly shut her trap. Alessia liked kids enough but not around all the glass fixtures she had. Not only could they get hurt, but kids had a way of leaving weird smudges on things with their grubby little fingers. "And for your own peace of mind. If things are as bad as you say and you're truly that miserable," she reached forward and caressed his cheek, a soft and caring smile playing on her lips. "The faster, the better." She let her hand linger for a moment before taking a deep breath and dropping it. He spoke about Trevor being the catalyst for this argument happening and her eyebrow twitched.Trevor King had been a name she'd heard and been familiar with for a long time. A pain in Christian's ass, a thorn in Ezekiel's side. Even she was starting to get annoyed with the man and she hadn't uttered more than five words to him. Thankfully she didn't have to think about him for much longer as Christian's next works shocked her. She choked on her wine and once she recovered pressed her hand against her chest. "No love lost then, huh?" Hearing him admit that he no longer loved May wasn't shocking to her for the reason he might've thought. It was how easy the words left his lips and with no hesitation whatsoever. And that's when that feeling from earlier came rushing back. That fire in the pit of her stomach she'd ignored for quite some time now.

Leaning her elbow against the counter she shook her head. "Your life is so much more interesting than I remember, mon petit chou." For a second she just sat quietly, thinking back over everything that had been said and told to her since his arrival. She carefully contemplated her next words, her next move, and without allowing herself to think too much she stood up. "Do you know what insanity is, Brooks?" Her question sat in the air a bit, letting him ponder before she answered. "Doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result." Alessia held eye contact as she walked closer to Christian until she was standing between his legs. "Clean. Dirty. High ground, low ground. Does any of it matter," she inquired with her hand on his chest, "If your heart is in the right place?" With her free hand, she stroked his hair and let out a soft laugh. "That conscience of yours has always been the most interesting thing about you, you know? Keeps you from treating others how they treat you. But sometimes we have to ignore that little voice in our head, don't we? To survive. To make sure we don't go insane. Christian Brooks, you're the best of men in the whole of London and I commend you for that. That's not going to change when you decide to finally look out for yourself and do things the way you want." She paused for a moment, searching his eyes for any sign that her words made sense to him. "I can help you - I want to help you. But my help requires you to be selfish," she warned, raising her eyebrows to make sure he understood. "Is that what you truly want?"
 
Harper Residence
~ Stoke Newington, London ~

Blake Harper
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Blake watched as Kerry chewed her bottom lip nervously, speaking about how they never spoke about that time in Kerry’s life until now. Blake was patient as she listened to her speak of what she’d been through, letting her say what she wanted to and what she didn’t. While Blake was sure that Kerry thought this would be a hard conversation for her, Blake thought this would be equally hard on Kerry considering the things she’d been through. The blonde nodded her head slowly as Kerry recalled that to this day, she still couldn’t think of a way where she could have stopped Jackson from being killed, and avoided the twisted fate she was threatened with.

Blake understood what it was like to go down that path and then to go down another. Trying to figure out what, if anything, could be done, to stop what was essentially unpreventable. But she couldn’t understand what it was like to be faced with the horrors Kerry could have been dealt if she had not gone through with what she did. Blake wasn’t mad at her, like she said, for the choices she made. "Of course," Blake said, her tone soft as Kerry thanked her, though she didn’t see a reason for it. In all honesty, Blake felt that she needed to thank her for showing up here, for allowing her the space in her life right now to be honest, to even walk down that darker part of both of their lives even if it made them both uncomfortable. She understood it wasn’t an easy thing to do.

Blake cracked a sad smile, hearing Kerry mimic the same thoughts she had in her head was relieving. "Thank you for coming here, and walking down that road to the past with me one more time. I know it’s not easy…and it certainly isn’t comfortable. I’m just as relieved as you are, knowing that you and I can continue on from this. And maybe us doing this can encourage some others still lagging behind to do the same." She murmured.

Nodding her head, Blake hoped she and Kerry could get along as well. "I’m not one to turn anyone away, at least not anymore. I used to be a bit more selective in my youth. Funnily enough, the more I’ve experienced in this life the more I’ve come to realize that the ones who share the same experiences as me are the ones I should be keeping a lot closer." She sighed. "My door is always open to you Kerry, and your family and friends. I think today is the start of a new relationship and a new start. I don’t want to leave it at this conversation and that be it. I expect more drinks and more outings. If you’re willing of course." Blake gave her a kind smile, "And if you’re ever worried about things, I’m a great listener, as are the many bottles of wine I have in my house." She laughed, "Speaking of which, would you like some more?"
with: Kerry Misty Gray Misty Gray
END OF SCENE​
 
The Porter Residence
~ Holland Park, London ~

Roxie Porter
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Everything felt hot and the room was spinning, so much so that she didn’t notice Syd lowered them to the floor. At first, she held her breath, not wanting to aggravate the painful tingling in her chest any further. But when he told her to breathe, his voice sounding frantic but desperately trying to be reassuring, Roxie nodded her head and let out the breath she was holding before taking in a new one. The action continued to make her see little lights in her vision, floating past it slowly but she tried to focus on something in the room that her body wasn’t fabricating in its erratic state of panic. Syd said he had her, pulling her close and she spotted his large hands encircling her arms to pull her in. Her eyes, full of tears, focused on them as he rocked her. Ignoring the sight of the blood for the time being, the very thing that had set her off, to begin with…she knew she had no other choice but to calm down. "I’m alright." She mumbled, trying to find the strength to sound even the slightest bit convincing to quell any of his worries. Knowing Syd, she knew it wouldn’t work.

Sucking in a deep breath again, it hitched but she was starting to return to her usual state of calm, the rare turbulence she felt in that moment subsiding just as quickly as it came…even if the pain in her chest lingered uncomfortably. Roxie trusted that Syd had her. If there was anything she could trust in him, it was that he would always have her back, and always keep her safe. Funny how it worked out like that, his motivations were skewed, not wanting to keep himself safe half the time, she wondered if she was selfish for adoring that he was so quick to offer a shelter for her to fall into in her darkest hour. But she never did have safety as she had it with him growing up. Never had someone to fall into. It was hard to be vulnerable but she was trying to learn to be….even if she wasn’t admitting to certain things right now.

Hearing him apologize brought on unexpected guilt that cut deep. He had things to feel sorry for, but…didn’t she? Lies that would also betray any trust he had in her. Roxie’s throat clenched as she tried to swallow the lump forming, the tears had never left her eyes, but fresh ones burned. Syd’s hold on her tightened before she could muster the courage to say anything, to find the right words to say. Her husband reminded her that he didn’t want J.J. to get hurt, or any of them for that matter. Her bottom lip trembled, while she knew he always felt that way…it was a weird relief to have them spoken out loud. With all of the changes, it was almost like she was living in some weird reality where…she was only seeing what could go wrong while everyone else was only seeing what couldn’t. Roxie hated to be the one to bear the bad news, to be the one to point out the flaws…but she had to. Someone had to be the voice of sanity and reason.

"You’re not stupid. I know how much that meant to you…and how much that meant to him." Her voice sounded just as raw as she felt, her head resting against Syd’s chest weakly. Allowing herself to rest for just a moment hoping that her heart would stop beating in its erratic rhythm, the silence between them was less tense than it had been downstairs and more of a comfortable one, allowing them to both just be as he cradled her. After a few long moments, Syd took a deep exhale and parted from her, causing her to make a small noise in protest as her head dipped from his chest, making her have to support it on her own. Luckily for her, his hand moved to her chin helping her while also guiding her to look into his eyes. Roxie didn’t look away, her eyes just meeting his as he said he loved her, and the kids, and that he couldn’t imagine being without her. Once again he pushed the idea of going to the late district with them. Silently, she found herself mulling it over seriously. Naturally, her eyes fluttered close as he stroked her cheek but by the time they flickered back open, she’d made up her mind.

The choice to stay was only furthered when she saw the tears, heard the words…the fear he felt over losing her again after so many times before. "Shhh, hey." Roxie found herself saying, hands moving from their resting place on her chest to his cheeks to wipe at his tears. It was perhaps a stupid choice to stay, but one she felt sure in. More so than anything else right now. "For better or for worse yeah? Till death do us part? I made those vows to you on our wedding day and was practicing them long before that. I’m not going anywhere. The kids need both of us. We might not be perfect parents but they’ve always had both of us." Shifting in his arms, she winced slightly, moving to sit up just a little. Looking at Syd's hands, her eyes peered down at the one with blood still on it. "You and I…we’re a team. We have been since day one. And I know you have others here to be with you but, Syd, I know you would need me eventually. Just like I would need you. It’s a mutual need. I’m not as strong as I make myself look…you bring me a lot of comfort and support. And I need it. I can’t just prance off to the Lake District with the kids, I’m sure Aunt Sinead and Uncle Peter would be there for us but I lean on you more than you know. I love you so much. Biting her lip, her eyes stung with tears, it was hard to admit vulnerability but if they were going to work this out she had to.

"..I just think we have to work on…our communicating, and I think I’m to blame for some of that. So I’m sorry but I’m not going anywhere."
with: Syd Pyroclast Pyroclast
 
Snowden Residence
~ London ~
Erik Snowden
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Erik Snowden was no stranger when it came to holding grudges. And when it came to getting something out of those grudges he knew how to milk it. "You owe me, remember? For, ya know, using my cousin and ruinin' our lives and my happy home," he'd said to Klaus. He was twisting the man's arm about a plot he'd purchased before the raid. The plans he'd set in motion for the home he planned to share with Billy had continued without them. Had Erik not asked Klaus about it he was sure some other family would've moved in - perhaps even tore it down and built their dream home over the top. Erik wasn't having it. And he would blow his cover if necessary to make sure it didn't fucking happen. "So, Klaus-y. What is it gonna be?" Erik knew he was being a child and milking his situation but he didn't give a damn whatsoever. If it got him what he wanted, what he desired, he was going to make sure to continue to milk it. When Klaus reported back to Erik about the house he felt relieved. Well, he felt more than just relieved but the amount of emotions were just too much to deal with. As soon as he was allowed to roam to city again the first thing he did was see about his house. The moment his eyes set upon it, all those emotions from years ago came flooding back to him.

Billy had entrusted Erik with their son tonight. Their son. He was still a bit... Unsure about how things would work. Were they co-parents? Is that how it would work? Visitation and split time. Would they spend time together? Would that be okay with Billy's boyfriend? The thought of even having to acknowledge the fact that he wasn't Billy's boyfriend anymore or vice versa was a mess in itself. It was too much to think about and was the last thing he wanted to whilst he had Charlie. Ever since their first meeting, Erik couldn't seem to get enough of the kid. Ava had told him that when he had kids of his own he'd get sick of them - that he'd want to get rid of them the second they started to get on his nerves but it wasn't like that with Charlie. Maybe it was the fact that he'd missed so much and he wanted to make up for all that time lost. Or maybe because of how mature and independent Charlie was at such a young age. Whatever the reason, his son had become his favorite person in the world.

Erik had asked Charlie to teach him a new language and the two of them ended up playing chess at the same time. At first, Erik started to take it easy on him. There was no way this kid would be so good at chess, right? Wrong. After being eviscerated for the third time in a row - in the most brutal way possible, one might add - he'd gotten serious. It was down to three moves on Erik's go before the fate of the game was determined. The room was at a standstill - so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Not even the dog was running about. Erik had just picked up his white rook when the doorbell rang. "Perfect timing," he said, looking up at his son. "I've gotta think about this one for a second, kid." He stood up and playfully wagged his finger at him. "I've gotta redeem myself, hm? Back in a sec." He left Charlie in the sitting room and started for the door and when he opened it his eyes lit up. "Hey! Done already?" He still could never get over the way Billy made his heart pound just by breathing. Just by standing in front of him doing absolutely nothing. And the fact that he'd aged like fine wine didn't help. "Come in," he said, realizing that this was the first time Billy had seen their house. He suddenly got nervous, rubbing his hands together the moment the door closed. "I-... Um... It's probably weird seeing the house, right?"
 
The Snowden Residence
~ London ~

Billy King

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1707148966719.pngCharlie watched in anticipation, a smug grin on his face as Erik calculated his next move. The game was getting towards its end and at this stage, Charlie had a neat collection of white pieces surrounding his side of the board, like a little audience. Occasionally he would count them to tease Erik. Though to the man’s credit, Charlie found him a fun opponent - at least he knew the rules already and he had managed to take a few of Charlie’s pieces as well. Not to mention all the Dutch board game vocabulary he was managing to pick up as they went along.

When the doorbell interrupted the silence, Charlie’s smile faltered. He had completely lost track of time and at the realisation that Billy had arrived to pick him up, he let out a small groan. “This ain’t the end of the game, you know!” Charlie reminded him, pointing back at him with a mischievous grin. ”You ain’t gettin’ away that easy!” He didn’t get up with Erik, instead deciding to wait for him at the chessboard. At least if his dads took their time talking to each other, it would give Charlie extra time to practise his strategy.


d3407ddd3128546faa47aba5ec047c44.gifIt was strange - almost unsettling - how the inner conflict and guilt Billy felt towards Hendrik all seemed to disappear when he was with Erik. It was like nobody else existed and nothing else mattered. By the time the door opened and the two were face to face, Billy was already smiling up to his eyes. Seeing the house in physical form had moved him almost to tears and struck him with the feeling that his and Erik’s connection had never diminished after all. All those years that Billy had spent yearning for him, missing him, loving a man who wasn’t there…Erik had been doing the same thing.

The man asked him if he was done already, but Billy was still in something of a daze. “With what?” he asked, before remembering he had been to a meeting with Spencer. There was a lot to say about that, but he wasn’t in the mood to go into it now. “Oh…yeah.” His ability to form words was hindered by the stirring in his heart and he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. When beckoned, Billy stepped into the spacious hallway, where he proceeded to look around at the details and trying to remember which door led where.

Erik appeared to grow nervous, then, and asked him if he found it weird to see the house. “A little,” Billy answered, still busy admiring the intricate tiled flooring and the curved bottom steps of the staircase with its beautiful walnut balustrades. The high ceiling that let the light pour in from the tall window at the back of the house. The little reading nook built under the stairs, with a cushioned bench and a small bookshelf built into the wall. It was a dream come true.

“Eh, I would’ve decorated differently,” he shrugged, though he couldn’t even pretend he was being serious. “Wallpaper’s all wrong. Chandelier?” He pointed up at the crystal light fixture. “Tacky as hell.” But his face was stuck in a smile. He adored it, everything about it, and it was all he could do not to start crying. “Erik…why did you do this?” he asked. “How did you?” His words caught on his breath and he realised there was a lump in his throat. “I mean, I thought you were in Germany all that time…”

Interactions
Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess Erik
 
East Side of the Carter Druggie Warehouse
~ Undisclosed Location, London ~

Natalie Smyth
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As someone else approached their group, Natalie turned quickly ready to attack but relaxed when her eyes landed on Wesley. She bit her lip as they mentioned the supposed closet door as she tried to figure out how they had missed something so vital, thankfully Thomas was shot in the vest and not in the head. "Yeah all good" she replied to Wesley her eyes still trained on the door in question.

As Wesley began to question Thomas on his mobility, Natalie turned her head to look at them her eyes skirting over Thomas quickly scanning for any obvious injuries but thankfully she couldn't spot any. As the plan changed Natalie simply nodded to show she agreed before taking the pack from Wesley. "Good luck and any issues let us know, I can come back up" she told Rory and Wesley as threw the bag onto her back.

A smirk played on her lips at Thomas' comment and she looked at him with amusement clear on her features "good cause I'm more a dragging type" she joked before following him towards the stairs, making sure to stay low incase their friend was still nearby.

Once downstairs, Natalie carefully made her way towards the East Wing as directed while keeping an eye on their surroundings incase any other surprises decided to jump out at them. As they reached the target, Natalie dug into the pack and took out the gloves handing a pair to Thomas before putting her own gloves on. Quickly and silently, they began to pack up the evidence until the bags were full.

"Okay so now we just wait for their signal" she commented as she looked back towards the direction of the stairs as she willed that they were both ok up there before looking back at Thomas. "Hows the pain?" she questioned with a tone of sincerity

****************
Int;-
Bellz Bellz - Thomas
 
Davies Residence
~ Kensington, London ~

Christian Brooks

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Christian nodded along when Alessia told him they could win the case. Whilst it was reassuring to hear that, he would prefer not to have to take it to court at all. However, if May was going to insist on taking his kids away from him, he wasn't sure what other choice he had. He couldn't lose his children and what kind of father would he be if he didn't fight for them?

Christian agreed that he couldn't live under the same roof as May, not only for the case but also for their own sanity and stress levels. The house belonged to both of them, but if it came to it, he would make arrangements to move out of it, if she could stump up the bill for what he'd paid into the mortgage. He didn't doubt he could find another place to stay in the meantime. "You're right. I can't stay in the same house as her, and if she won't budge, then I guess I'll have to. The last thing I want is for the kids to have to watch us both arguing in their home."

When Alessia reached forward and caressed his cheek, Christian's mind immediately told him to brush her hand away but something deeper compelled him to stay exactly where he was. He smiled back at her and found warmth in the gesture, not pushing her away at all. He slowly nodded in agreement when she said the faster he took himself out of the situation, the better.

Christian laughed when Alessia said his life was more interesting than she remembered. "I was pretty dull back then, though, wasn't I? What I'd give for a time machine and never cross paths with the Kings," he commented. As much as he still liked some of the Kings and in the 80s had considered them his friends, he was fully aware of the amount of risk, trouble and pain knowing them had brought into his life over the years.

When Alessia then spoke of his conscience and moral high ground getting him nowhere throughout the years, he wanted so hard to tell her she was wrong. That she was being cynical. Instead, she was vocalising what he had been thinking as of late. His good intentions had got him nowhere and, if anything, threatened to put a target on his back. Her eyes met his as she sought for his response to her words. He nodded to show her he understood. She then offered to help him, but pointed out the stipulation that it would need him to be selfish.

"Alessia. I've tried to do the right thing, but where has that ever got me? It's time I did start looking after myself and stopped holding my tongue. It's becoming clearer by the day that I need to put up a fight and if the last two decades of my life are anything to go by, nobody wins by fighting clean. I want to win, Alessia. What is it you're proposing?" he asked her, his eyes now reflecting a fire in them, something of a determination.

Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess (Alessia)
 
Chapter 5: Silk and Subterfuge
Chapter 5: Silk and Subterfuge
Saturday 15th November 1997
...One month later...
London: Evening - Cold, Dry, Windy

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BANNER IMAGE COMING SOON
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The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~
Lucas Sullivan

ezgif-2-200728274c.gifLucas was excited about the fashion show for so many reasons. He loved parties, shows, and anything of the nature. Bustling atmospheres were certainly his thing. He also enjoyed being around so many friends and family at one time. But the real bonus? The main event was being able to support Collin and cheer for him when he took to the stage. Support... and admire. He wasn't sure how his friend would take it knowing he was attracted to him, but that was a bridge he'd have to cross later. For now, he just wanted to be there to support and encourage Collin with whatever he chose to do.

As he sat next to J.J., with Michael to the other side of J.J., he couldn't help but think about at least one absent party. "It's a shame Liam couldn't make it. I was looking forward to us all hanging out. Do you speak with him much these days?" he asked Michael, given the two were best friends back in the 80s.

When more models walked along the runway, his focus quickly shifted to watch them. However, when none of them were Collin or anyone else he cared about, his interest dipped. He found himself looking around the room, aware of how much security was involved tonight. It didn't worry him that his family and the Kings were all together whilst in the midst of a potential war with the Carters, If anything, he was motivated to do his part and defend his loved ones. He just didn't want that time to be now. Tonight was going to be a fun one, he just knew it!

Turning back to face forward, he continued to watch the models but soon focused back to Michael and J.J. to see how they were doing. "I wonder how long until Collin does his thing," he commented, flashing a playful smile.

Pyroclast Pyroclast (Michael) Bellz Bellz (J.J.)



The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~
Spencer King

1708294473691.pngSpencer knew tonight was for charity and also served as a way to not only lighten spirits but also get the Kings and Porters together. If they were fighting together then it made sense they all bonded and got along with each other. Regardless, it didn't make him feel any better about the event, no matter how much of theirs and the venue's security were on duty. After his unexpected meeting with Ezekiel last month, he couldn't help but be on high alert.

He wasn't very interested in the fashion show itself, so he didn't mind being seated at a cocktail table a little away from the main event. This gave him a better observation point, where he could closely watch those coming and going on a much wider scale. The sight of one particular couple caught his attention. As the pair walked a short distance away, he was quick to avert his eyes from the busty and leggy dark-haired female of the two who clearly had a resistance to the cold October weather. "Jesus Christ..." he muttered as he turned to Klaus and Wesley with a knowing smirk on his face. "She's making me feel overdressed," he remarked, for a moment tugging at the front of his suit jacket to highlight his point.

Spencer hadn't been too impressed with sitting at a table with the two Interpol men, and he hoped Alex would join them or Shona would return to the table soon. As they were all on the same side on this occasion, he chose to be approachable and agreeable towards them tonight. It was easy to do with Klaus, given how much he'd supported him during his struggles when Lottie was first born and Shona was in hospital. Klaus had listened to him with genuine concern and had helped him manage during those difficult times. Wesley was a different case. The last time they'd been so close it had ended up with Spencer gripping the man's throat and in a roundabout way threatening to throw him out of the window. Things had improved since then, but the two hadn't spoken to see how either of them felt about that particular exchange! Plus, Harper was still dead, so it wasn't exactly like circumstances had changed, was it?

Spencer wasn't good at small talk and forced pleasantries. He tended to be to the point with people, which was likely why his next words weren't out of the ordinary. "Have you lads had any useful tip-offs from Trevor I should know about? Or anything useful at all from him, for that matter?" he drily remarked. As part of the plan, any communication with his father was to be kept to a minimum, if at all. It wasn't something that bothered Spencer, but he knew other family members had been able to grow close to the former waste of space to miss the old man.

Interaction: Bellz Bellz (Klaus, Wesley)
Mention: Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess (Alex)



The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~
Zachary Costa

1708294495025.pngUnder the guise of being a representative for an Italian fashion label, Zachary approached the entrance of the venue with an attractive woman hooked onto his arm. Ezekiel had pulled out all of the stops and put his influence into play to ensure the two were on the guest list for the charity event. Zachary was aware of the way the security guard's eyes had gravitated towards him, but it wasn't him that was being stared at. Instead, it was Gia the attention was on, given the raven-haired woman's noticeable cleavage and long legs were on show. Still, he knew not to be overconfident and to remain hyper-aware of his surroundings.

"Dario Marinelli and Gia Russo." After checking his and Gia's names from the guest list, the host requested for Zachary to hold out his arms so the security guard could give him a pat down to check for any weapons. "This is..." he began, putting on his thick Italian accent, stripping it of any Cockney influence his upbringing with Italian and English parents had resulted in. In reality, his normal accent was naturally Cockney more than anything, but he could put on many accents with little effort by this point. Italian being his rightful speciality. "This suit is expensive. Be careful," he told them, adding an entitled spice to his tone. Of course, there was nothing of any concern to be found on him as he knew full well the Kings would be in overdrive with security tonight so had no weapons on him.

Once they were inside the venue, the couple took to their designated table amongst others from the industry. However, before taking his seat, Zachary excused himself, telling Gia that he was going to use the bathroom and then speak with an acquaintance. Upon entering the male toilets, he glanced to the cubicles, noticing all ten were currently unoccupied. Despite this he walked along to the 8th cubicle and stepped inside, locking the door behind him. Carefully lifting the toilet cistern lid, he found an allen key taped underneath it. Retrieving the tool and placing the lid back down, he then crouched down to the wooden panelling that housed the pipes and plumbing system. Carefully, he loosened the bolts to allow him the remove a wooden panel to the right side of the toilet. This revealed the black bin liner he'd expected to see.

Zachary carefully removed the contents of the bin liner; a black blazer, black trousers, security badge, earpiece, walkie-talkie, and handgun. Quickly, he removed his own trousers and blazer, shoving them into the bag, along with his sunglasses, so he could dress up in the unform of the venue's security.

Interactions: None yet. Just us lot watching him undress.



Philip and Sarah Stewart's House
~ Finsbury Park, London ~
Liam Callahan

1708294505197.pngLiam had been sat at the dining table with Sarah Stewart for the last hour. He had a meeting with her boss at the estate agency the following Monday where he was going to pitch his proposal to take on the business of designing and implementing ideas for their new logo & rebranding. Having already met the woman through Callum and the Kings, she'd offered to look over his ideas to offer any constructive feedback in advance of his important meeting.

Whilst the woman was being helpful and had given overall positive feedback, Liam couldn't help but feel intimidated by her at times. In his lifetime, he'd met a lot of scary and dangerous people, so she was nothing new and certainly less concerning than they had been. However, the fact he was attracted to her daughter, Cassandra, and was heading out on a date with her that very evening certainly added pressure. Still, at least if something did develop between the young pair, Liam had already checked off having to meet her parents! That aspect of a relationship was never an issue at his end, as he knew he could bring just about anyone home and Sinead would be happy... happy and extremely excited.

"I think you're going to be fine!" Sarah concluded, closing the portfolio file and sliding it across the table back to Liam. She sent him a look that indicated she wasn't finished with him yet. As he anticipated some kind of warning to look after Cassie, he was somewhat relieved when she addressed a different matter. "When you next see Callum, tell him not to bother wasting his time on his dodgy old Grandad Trevor," she began, a scathing tone to her voice now. "The man is notorious for ditching his family, so it's no surprise he's turned his back on his kids and grandchildren. Let Callum know he's still welcome at this house any time."

"Sure. Will do," Liam replied with a nod. He'd heard about Trevor severing ties with the Kings and knew it had affected Callum not being able to see him. As much as he was there for his nephew, Liam didn't wanted to get involved in any King-Stewart family dramas. Part of the reason he'd moved to London was to avoid his own family dramas and dangers. Yet, somehow it always managed to find him, with both his family and the Kings now settled in London to take on another apparent war. Liam loved his family and as annoying as she could be, he enjoyed having Emery crashing at his place until she moved into her own. He'd even been happy to have Savannah in London for the fashion show. Despite that, he'd told his sister he couldn't attend the show. Whilst his date with Cassie was part of the reason, it was also the knowledge so many of his family and the Kings would be in the same building together. If he'd learned anything from being a Callahan, it was that he would avoid large gatherings at all costs. Seeing his own mother be stabbed had been hard enough. But what happened to his family at the Halloween party 12 years ago would never leave his mind - watching Savannah and Danny spend years in recovery, as well as losing his Uncle James, was enough to deter Liam from large family gatherings. It was probably the fashion show that was making him more nervous than his date with Cassie was.

"You're a quiet one, aren't you?" Sarah asked, using what time was left before Cassie joined them to make Liam feel at least a little awkward. "How does that happen coming from the family you have?" she asked, knowing more than enough about the Sullivan bloodline.

Liam's cheeks naturally reddened at being put on the spot by the outspoken woman. In his head, he was urging Cassie to enter the room and end his suffering. "Well.." he began, letting out a low laugh. "My mother and sister, Emmy, they talk a lot. Growing up, I couldn't get a word in edgeways. So maybe that's just stuck with me," he half-joked.

When Cassie did enter the room, Sarah stood up, prompting Liam to do the same. The woman directed her attention to her daughter. "I was just telling Liam here that if he messes you around, he'll have me to answer to..."

neverbackdown neverbackdown (Cassie)

 
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Chapter 5: Silk and Subterfuge
Saturday 15th November 1997

London: Evening - Cold, Dry, Windy

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The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Jane Porter and Shona King

1708293722033.pngIt was all a bit confusing for Jane as to why the family were suddenly friends with the Kings. She would have to have been living under a rock for her whole life to not have at least some understanding of what her parents did for a living outside of their honest careers, but they at least had tried to keep much of the details to themselves. So while Jane hadn’t really understood the war of 1985, she had been aware that their enemies were the Kings. As far as she was concerned, that conflict had never been properly resolved - or if it had, nobody had told her. She just moved with her family to Germany, knowing that any questions she had weren’t even worth asking.

Nevertheless, if her dad told her she could trust the Kings, then she had no problems doing so. She trusted him. Despite having witnessed his breakdowns, periods of psychosis and manic episodes throughout her whole life, she still trusted him, because she knew his first instinct was always to protect his family. If the Kings were still in any way a threat, or if he even had the slightest inkling, he wouldn’t have let even Shona King be in that dressing room, doing her and Arabella’s hair for the charity fashion show he had organised.

Jane was shy by her nature, usually only able to reach her confidence and charisma when Jeanie was there to draw it out of her, which, of course, she hadn’t been for years. So, it was a big deal for her to be going out on stage, dressed up with glamorous hair and make-up and eye-catching clothes before the eyes of a full audience.

Shona, who was finishing off pinning a section of Arabella’s brunette curls, seemed to sense her apprehension, because she said, “You girls look so glamorous,” and sent them both a proud smile. “Like queens! All those other women in the audience out there, they’re gonna wish they were as gorgeous as you. So go out there and inspire them, yeah?” And then she leaned towards them and whispered, “‘Cause I’ve seen ‘em, and some of ‘em need it!”

Jane giggled, and returned to the mirror she had been looking into. She couldn’t help but smile at her reflection; on a day to day basis, she didn’t like to wear too much make-up for fear of drawing attention to herself, but she actually loved the way she looked in it. It made her feel special, whimsical, like she could do anything.

1708296586648.png“Right,” Shona said with a smile, placing her hands on Arabella’s shoulders. “That’s your hair done, love. You’ve got such beautiful auburn curls!” Jane looked over at J.J.’s girlfriend, smiling in admiration of her beauty. She didn’t know Arabella all too well, but she liked her so far - perhaps especially through sheer determination to like her, in hopes that she might fill the sister-shaped hole that Jeanie had left.

“Collin, you’re up,” Shona called over to the young man, beckoning him to sit in her styling chair in front of the mirror.

“I look like a different person or something,” Jane said to Arabella, still gazing at her own reflection. “I wish I always felt this pretty. But you just look like you, Ari - you’re pretty all the time.” She leaned forward to fuss over her lipstick, checking for smudges around her mouth and flecks of mascara on her cheeks. Then with a sigh, she stepped back and tugged at her tight black dress. “My dress doesn’t have any straps and I can’t wear a bra with it - what if I go out there and the whole thing falls down?!”

Once Collin was seated, Shona stood behind him and looked at his reflection in the mirror before them. “Right, so we’re shavin’ that hair off, yeah?” she teased, running her fingers through his hair. “Alright. How familiar are you with Hugh Grant films? Four Weddings and a Funeral?” She took her parting comb and a tub of pomade. “Or bad boy Johnny Depp in 21 Jump Street? I think that’s the look…you’ve already got the heart throb movie star looks. I think if we part your hair so that it tumbles down the sides a little like that…” With her comb, Shona parted his hair approximately down the centre and gently positioned his floppy hair into place to give him a rough idea of her vision. “Yes! Oh, you’ll have the girls fallin’ at your feet tonight!” Setting the comb down, she slapped some pomade across her hands until it was evenly coated and then began to work it into Collin’s hair. “You got anyone in the crowd you’re tryin’ to impress tonight, then, love? Any lucky girl out there comin’ to see you?”

Interactions
Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess Arabella
Bellz Bellz Collin, Roxie
 
Chapter 5: Silk and Subterfuge
Saturday, 15th November 1997
London: Evening - Cold, Dry, Windy


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The layout:
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The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Jolene Foley
(Jeanie Porter)


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What was she doing here? There was a line of cars as far as her eye could see. She’d parked her bike down the street. No need for valet if she planned on making a quick escape. But maybe she wasn’t planning on even going in at all. Jeanie had never been one for the fancy pants parties her family hosted. Having to wear dresses her mother picked out for her sister and her, which 99% of the time matched. Jane loved it, loved getting dressed up, loved wearing makeup, and getting her hair done. Jeanie…had grown tired of it, thin of patience by the time she’d turned 13. So why was she here? For Jane. Even as her footsteps slowed, she kept telling herself that she was going to enter the belly of the dreaded beast for her beloved twin sister, who for whatever reason, still adored her like she hadn’t almost maimed her all those years ago. While that endless love irritated her when it came to her father, it didn’t when it came to Jane. Siblings…were different. Well okay, only one was different. J.J. could suck an endless bag of dicks and the other kids were still young enough to freak Jeanie out. But Jane was different, anything she wanted she would get as far as Jeanie was concerned. Or at least that’s how it had been before she left.

Since the weeks after her father came to her apartment, Jeanie had been struggling to figure out what to do with herself.

He'd reached out his hand with his phone number written on a piece of paper and she swiped it from him quickly, like a snake striking its prey, not touching his hand in the process. She didn't bother to look at it. "Fine. Now leave." Was all she said, having reached her limit with him. For some reason, she allowed him into her safe space...or semi-safe space and he'd left unscathed.

For the damage she didn't do to her father, she had unconsciously decided she'd make up for it by damaging herself in ways that couldn't kill her but she was hoping they would... In that time, she’d gotten a lot higher, a lot drunker...mixing things that should have ended her and meeting a man who tugged at feelings that she shoved into a closet years ago. They didn’t follow up on contact, leaving it as it was that night in bed…which probably was for the best. But Jeanie just continued to neglect herself while working, to get the thought of both her family and Logan out of her mind. Jess and Bex would often ask her to come out and she would, if only abuse the drugs and drink combo after work. And it stayed like that, a harsh cycle of drugs, drinks, and dancing at the club. Hoping that maybe she wouldn't wake up after a long night of heavy partying some of those nights as she slowly became more and more dysregulated. So when Jane asked her to come to this event unexpectedly, Jeanie had to muster up all the normal energy (and sobriety) she could to do so. It wasn’t easy, now that she was inching closer and closer, the anxiety was weighing down on her like a ton of bricks. The prospect of seeing both her parents in the same room and possibly her other siblings… was nearly enough to spin her around back towards her bike.

Her fingers twitched for a cigarette, for something to cool the shake in her legs as they walked towards what seemed like a nuclear situation. In any family event, someone always ends up dead. Jeanie’s fingers fumbled with the silver cigarette case after retrieving it from her back pocket, it nearly slipping out of her hands from the sweat on her fingertips as she let out a slew of curse words. Grabbing her lighter with less of a struggle, she placed the cigarette between her lips. Striking the ignition on the lighter, she lit it before taking a long inhale, allowing her eyes to close for just a moment as she stopped in her journey to the front of the venue. The air was crisp even though it was windy, and for a moment as the nicotine flooded her system…she could just enjoy it. Truly. Moments like that felt so far and few that she opened her eyes and blinked, feeling like that maybe she was fabricating all of this in one of her fucked up episodes. But the wind picked up, raising the goosebumps on her hands and blowing the ash from the butt of her cigarette to the ground. Removing it from her lips, she ashed it again between her fingers before starting to walk slowly towards the venue again. As she got closer, her mind started to freak. The thoughts came on like a sharp headache but she tried her best not to listen as she raised her free hand to her right temple. In a last-ditch effort, knowing she needed the rush and that the nicotine would save her, she moved her cigarette to her lips once more and took a huge drag until her lungs screamed at her to stop. Jeanie’s right eye burned with a single tear and only then did she cough, trying to silence herself as the ash from the remaining butt sprayed in front of her. Throwing the stick to the ground, she stepped on it as she coughed, covering her lips as her eyes burned. The action gave her the head high she needed, kickstarting her all too calm heart. It was too calm, too much time to think. About the fucking crisp air? That wasn’t her. Not when she was walking into a situation full of wolves.

When Jeanie finally silenced herself, all her thoughts of panic and doubt disappeared and the head high was all that was left. Just as she was creeping closer, she noticed how under-dressed she was. There was a small crowd at the security entrance, where she saw most people dressed in suits and dresses. A small smile formed on her face at the thought of her owning something like that. Looking down at her outfit, riding boots, bootcut jeans, a black knit long-sleeve, and one of her favorite white/black/green leather racing jackets which she paid for on her own when she was doing well a few years back. An interesting choice but she wore it when riding her bike. Wanted to avoid road rash. But it was just like her family, just like anyone associated with her family to dress up to the nines. If they knew she was coming, Jeanie knew she would have gotten the dress code heads up. But Jane didn’t care what she wore as long as she was there, and that was good enough for her. And again, it was not like she owned fancy clothing or could afford it…she could barely afford to fill her fridge. People were watching her now…and Jeanie looked at them head-on. Sticking out like a sore thumb, she rolled her eyes “Need me to readjust your vision, sweetie?” She asked one woman who seemed to have her head on a swivel and kept looking back towards her. Jeanie's eyes turned away first towards someone else. Someone she was not expecting.

Her shoulders tensed. Familiar faces were…a toss-up in where they were welcome and where they weren't. But this was the last place she expected to see this familiar face. “Little far from the strip club aren’t we?” Jeanie asked, her voice a little tense as her eyes narrowed slightly. Logan was dressed up, wearing the fuck out of that suit. Her cheeks warmed but she was paranoid, what was he doing here? How did he know her family? Or was he just a snobby guest? He didn’t seem like the type. "You secretly loaded? The whole suit here,” She gestured to his outfit with her hands wide, “It’s giving anti-hero billionaire.” Her nose scrunched as she smiled, clearly teasing even if she was tense. "I mean, I won’t say nothin’. But I think you’d blow a whole lot of nerds away with that accent of yours, endearing by the way.” The paranoia that should have been consuming her wasn’t, at least not yet. "So seriously, w-what are you doing here?” She asked, stuttering slightly trying to keep the conversation casual while not giving anything away.
with: Logan Misty Gray Misty Gray
Nearby?: Syd Pyroclast Pyroclast
mentions: Princess Jane Pyroclast Pyroclast


Dawson Rogers' Home
~ Watford, U.K. ~

Rachel Fitz
Ft. Laura Fitz


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Lessons learned were…challenging for Rachel. While the bookstore incident had certainly shaken her to her core, she hadn’t taken the warning Riley seriously about staying out of London. Not when Laura loved it so much. Rachel would face her anxieties for her daughter time and time again if it meant she could see that bright little smile on her face. Besides, the chances of an encounter of crazy as that happening again were slim to none. Rachel had asked Dawson if he wanted to join her with Rosie but apparently…the man had a date.

“I’m sorry, you have a what?” Rachel had asked, staring at him in his foyer as he fussed over his never-neat dark hair. She rarely saw him fuss with it, to begin with. “Rach, stop staring at me like I have four arms popping out of my back!” Dawson laughed and Rachel laughed along with him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I just…when would you tell me you were dating again?!” She asked and the man rolled his eyes in his hallway mirror before he turned to look at her. Despite the confidence in his actions, his blue eyes revealed just how nervous he was. “Jeez, ma, I didn’t realize I was meant to report my dating history to you! Am I meant to be home by curfew too?” Dawson’s voice was dripping with sarcasm but she knew he was just nervous and when he got nervous the jokester in him just leaped right out. So she played along to put him at ease.

“Back home by 11, Dawson. If you’re back home by 11:01 p.m. you’re grounded!” Rachel shook her finger at him, placing a hand on her hip as she tried to be commanding and Dawson just let out a breathless laugh. “You’re not very good at the whole grounding thing. I wasn’t scared at all.” Rachel had rolled her eyes and shook her head catching a stray hair Dawson had managed to miss sticking up strangely. “You’re not very good at styling your hair.” She retorted, stepping forward just as she heard the kids squealing from the other room. Dawson sighed nervously, “I don’t think I’ve left Rosie on her own with a sitter since I left Alexandria.” He admitted and as Rachel fixed his hair she thought about what to say. “I feel a bit guilty, is that weird?” He asked and Rachel took a step back satisfied with the way she placed the stray hair.

“Guilt I think…I mean I don’t know…it’s normal. At least I think it would be in your position. I’m not going to tell you not to feel that way because then you’re going to try to work hard not to and just make it worse. But…you deserve to be happy, Dawson. As does Rosie.” Her friend was quiet as their eyes met, “This woman might not be the one but even if there is a chance she might be, you deserve to be happy like Laura and me. So feel guilty right now, but the minute you step out that door…go have fun.” Rachel said, punching his arm lightly and Dawson smiled, “And uh if you’re going to be…late…just call me and I’ll pick up Rosie from the sitter so she can spend the night at my house.”

“And you’ve just ruined the moment, thanks,” Dawson said, shaking his head as his cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Hey, it’s what Mums do! I want all the details from this date…besides ya know.” He turned cherry red, “Stop, get out. Please I have to go.”

“Laura! Let’s go, baby! Dawson’s got a big date to get to!”



Emery's Place
~ London ~

Dawson Rogers
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When Dawson had called Emery a few days before the date. He'd felt ridiculous asking for some details about her favorite things. Not that the notion of learning about her favorite things was ridiculous, but that it felt like he was trying too hard. In the process of his long and messy divorce, it felt like he'd lost pieces of himself and now he was trying to figure out who exactly he was out in the dating world. It was weird to think in his head...that he was dating again, and it had been weird to say out loud to Rachel just before he left. All of it felt...odd. But even if he didn't know who he was exactly as someone dating in his 40s now, he knew that he wanted to make a good impression on Emery...better than knocking her over at a train station and busting her knee.

The bouquet of red dahlias in his passenger seat was so large, that he was going to have to carry them with two hands to her door. The entire drive, he'd been wondering if they were too large and if he'd gone overboard. But honestly, he wanted to get her flowers that made up for his klutziness the first time they met and flowers for their date. Dawson just hoped Emery liked them. the entire bouquet was wrapped in a dark green velvet ribbon and tied in a neat bow. He also had a dark green vase for her, already prepared to be filled with water. Dawson couldn't remember the last time he'd done this, gone so out of his way for someone and put in some much effort...but it made him feel excited deep down...and nervous that he could get his heart broken.

When he finally made it, he'd stopped outside the door dressed in a nice navy suit, just staring at the doorbell for a moment as he held the large bouquet in its vase. Dawson knew that there wasn't any turning back now and he wasn't one to just walk away from something like this. Despite their short interaction the first time, and the slightly violent way they'd met...he wanted this all to work. Don't get too ahead of yourself. He had to remind himself, taking a deep breath. This was the same hopeful attitude that kept him tied to Alexandria for so long. She would tell him that she would get sober, then they would fight, he would get hurt both physically and emotionally...they would make up and then the cycle would start over again because Dawson had a habit of being too hopeful in his relationships. Or at least he did. He was working on it. Finally pressing the doorbell, he knew he didn't want to skate that fine line between being too hopeful and completely shutting down the idea of ever dating again. He had time to heal, or at least come to terms with what he'd gone through. Even if Emery wasn't the one...this was good for him. Getting out like this and having adult interactions beyond just play dates for Rosie was good.

The door opened and Dawson couldn't see a damn thing behind the giant bouquet of dahlias but smiled nonetheless. "Uh, hi. It's Dawson." He said, giving an awkward laugh. There was a beat of silence as he tried to think of what to say next before he tried to angle his face around the flowers. "I think I might have gone a little overboard with these things but...here," He held up the flowers in his arms a little higher, his face obstructed once more. "I know you said liked them...and the color dark green."

"You look gorgeous."
He complimented, "The reservations I have are in Marylebone, if you want I can set these inside for you and we can head out." Dawson's hands were starting to sweat just a little and he couldn't help but think about just how foolish he felt...a grown man acting like a nervous teenager right now at the sight of a beautiful woman.
with: Emery Misty Gray Misty Gray


Earlier in the Evening...

Greenwich Park Playground
~ Greenwich Park, London ~

Rachel Fitz
Ft. Laura Fitz

Rachel had looked around herself and over her shoulder at least 20 times or more since she landed herself in London. But she was telling herself that she was being crazy. If she kept being on edge, Laura would be able to feel the energy and get upset. So taking a deep breath, Rachel looked down at her baby girl, whom she brought in a stroller. The toddler might have been old enough to walk and run around at the park but she would get tired out eventually and Rachel couldn't carry her with all the back issues she had for long periods. That, and the stroller carried everything she could need in it. Laura was kicking her feet around and pointed towards the park excitedly, "There's the pony!" She squealed and Rachel laughed, "Yes! There it is, like I promised." The little blonde girl then started to unbuckle herself before Rachel stopped pushing the stroller and she pulled a stern face. "Hey, sit back, missy. We're almost there."

Once she found an empty park bench, Rachel sat down and moved to unbuckle her daughter who had figured out how to get the top buckle undone. "You're going to figure out how to do all of these buckles soon enough, aren't you?" She sighed but smiled all the same. Laura leaped out of her seat the moment she was free and ran towards the park without another word to her mother and Rachel slouched in her seat to watch her. The mother of one had brought a book with her just in case she felt like reading, but with the way she was feeling so on edge, she decided that right now...it was best to keep her full and undivided attention on Laura.
will be in the scene: Jeremy BasDorcha BasDorcha
 
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The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Logan Thomson

1708389345475.pngLogan had spent more time over the last month familiarising himself with London as well as getting to know more of Spencer's employees. Much of his work so far had been security and surveillance, along with tactical and firearms training. At present, he hadn't needed to put his training to use, but he was prepared for it to be needed at some point, especially after hearing about Ezekiel's meeting with Spencer and Billy.

Logan was still living with Spencer and Shona, but he had found a studio apartment in Bethnal Green that he would be able to move into in the next two weeks. It was close enough to their house where he could drop in when needed, but it would give him his own space and he wouldn't need to feel guilty about getting home at all hours of the night... or morning. Sometimes his all-nighters were because of work, but others it was because his nights out had extended far beyond typical pub closing times.

This evening, he suspected things would take a more civilised turn. Whilst Spencer had told him he was to attend so he could meet more of the Kings and Porters, Logan still felt like he should be working. So whilst he'd dressed up in the spirit of the fashion show, his mind was more focused on work. He had no doubt Spencer could look after himself, but with Shona in attendance too, Logan preferred to focus more on security than whoever was walking along the runway. He didn't want her to be put in any danger and something about the level of security that had been put in place set him on edge a little.

Having told Spencer he'd spend some time out in the fresh air with a couple of other security guards, Logan positioned himself out in the garden whilst he took a few minutes to have a smoke. As he observed people arriving and heading to the main entrance, one particular young woman stood out to him. Amongst the people dressed to the nines, this particular lady was dressed far more casually. Something about the jeans and leather jacket, in an area filled with silk and stilettos, caught his attention in a good way. That's when he realised it was Jeanie (or Jolene, to him) standing there, seemingly sending some other woman a scathing remark. He'd only spent one night with Jeanie, but her behaviour now certainly seemed to be reflective of the woman he'd first met three weeks ago. Logan and Jeanie had sex that same night. He was certain she was as satisfied as he was, but he knew neither had expected it to amount to more or to even see each other again. Yet, here they were in the same place and he felt compelled to approach her. Flicking his the cigarette butt on the floor, he walked towards her.

As he made his presence known, Jeanie's first comment referred back to him being in a strip club when they first met. He'd been dragged there by Luke and Owen, but hadn't been at all interested in the place... other than one of it's employees who was now standing in front of him. "We both know I didn't enjoyed the strip club. So I thought, where can I go where the women are guaranteed to be wearing some clothes? A fashion show, of course!"

When she questioned his suit and if he was rich, he let out an amused laugh. "Oh yes. The nerds would totally go for the Scottish Bruce Wayne," he played along. "It's a good suit, right? Wasn't as expensive as it looks either," he commented, clearly impressed by the outfit he'd managed to find at short notice.

When she asked why he was there, Logan also turned serious. "I'm working security. My boss and his wife are inside. I've got plenty of experience. Recently I prevented some letch from being stabbed to death," he commented, referring back to the night he'd stopped Jeanie from killing the arsehole at the strip club. "Seriously, though. There's people modelling and watching tonight who mean a lot to my boss, so I'd rather keep an eye out than just watch the show."

Logan observed Jeanie for a moment, unable to ignore how attractive she was. She may not have been dressed in some glamourous, expensive outfit, but somehow she stood out better to him than any of the other women he'd seen entering the building that evening. "What about you. Why are you here?" he asked. He'd noticed her stutter a little, which seemed off for the confident woman he'd first met. "Is there a sexy biker chick parade going on tonight too? That's a part of the show I would like to see, if you're involved," he flirted, hoping to relax her a little.

Bellz Bellz (Jeanie/Jolene)
Nearby: Pyroclast Pyroclast (Man who will love Logan no matter what)
 
The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Collin McCarthy

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When Collin initially volunteered to assist with the fashion show, he hadn't anticipated finding himself backstage, preparing to walk the runway. But as he watched Jane and Arabella get their hair and makeup done, he was all smiles. Growing up, he didn’t have a lot of confidence but after finding his footing in theater and music, being on the stage came as easy as breathing. The only thing that was making his palms sweat right now was the idea of seeing Michael and Lucas out there.

It was getting increasingly hard to be in the middle of feelings that he could neither control nor force to stop. He found himself deeply attached to both Michael and Lucas. His love for Michael ran profound, surpassing any previous relationships outside his own family. Yet, Lucas, his long-lost best friend, had reappeared, reigniting a dormant flame that Collin had thought extinguished along with any hope of seeing Lucas again.

Collin found himself at a crossroads, but unlike other decisions in his life, this one didn't come as easily. When he pursued music and theater, it was fueled by genuine passion. Conversely, when he attempted to learn surfing and quickly gave it up, it was because the passion wasn't there. Collin acknowledged that passion often guided his choices, a potentially risky endeavor when it came to matters of the heart. Yet, despite this uncertainty, he remained committed to Michael, and their love endured. However, to the outside world, their relationship remained concealed. Collin still grappled with the confidence to come out to his family, even as his love for Michael provided a guiding light.

He’d been sitting overthinking when Shona said his name, beckoning him over into the styling chair before her. Collin had done this many times before, though he was usually the one applying his make-up and doing his hair at the theatre in Cuba. He’d become pretty good at it after so many productions. Not that he’d say anything about that out of fear of being judged.

Collin let out a laugh as Shona asked if they were shaving off the hair. "Stylist's choice!" he gave her a boyish grin in the mirror. "Though I have to warn you, without the hair I look dreadful. I’m sure of it." She then asked how familiar he was with Hugh Grant Films or Johnny Depp in 21 Jump Street saying that was the look she was going for. "Love both of those." He commented before she said he already had the heart throb movie star looks. Collin’s cheeks turned bright pink and he swallowed hard, feeling bashful now. "Thank you, Shona." He murmured watching the woman position his hair and look excited with her vision.

His smile only faded a little at the mention of him having women falling at his feet. Habituated to societal assumptions of his heterosexuality, he instinctively projected a broader smile, though it felt somewhat strained. Collin was trying to be polite in the presence of such a wonderful woman, who didn’t know any better about his sexual orientation than the rest of the world. The strained smile persisted as Shona applied pomade to her hands and started styling his hair. Collin met her gaze in the mirror when she inquired if he was trying to impress someone in the audience, perhaps a girl. "Um... two, actually," he responded, the smile now fading as it felt less fitting.

"I'm not seeing anyone, but... I just feel this urge to impress them both. It's not like I joined this thing to impress them or anything!" Collin quickly interjected, though his words might have betrayed his true intentions. His confidence wavered, sensing it slipping away. Discussing his dating life in depth was reserved for a select few, yet here he was, confiding in a woman he'd just met. As lovely as she was, it felt like he was inadvertently pouring out all his anxious thoughts, disguised as those of a straight man. "Do you think what I'm doing will impress them?" he asked, his voice noticeably softer than before.
with: Shona Pyroclast Pyroclast
nearby: Jane Pyroclast Pyroclast ; Arabella Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess ; Me (I'll write another post for this lil group)
 
The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Jane Porter and Shona King

1708617298691.pngShona couldn’t her eyebrows from rising when Collin told her there were two people in the audience he was hoping to impress. “Two!” she exclaimed, a proud smile forming on her face. “You better be careful there. One can be trouble enough, boy, let me tell you!”

Yet, as she combed and styled his hair, she could see in the mirror that the young man’s smile was fading. He seemed confused, and she realised that it was perhaps not something to tease him about. He expressed to her the need he felt to impress them both despite not being in any kind of relationship, but clarified, somewhat shamefully, that impressing them was not his motivation to join the charity fashion show. “Hey, I wouldn’t judge you if that was why you wanted to take part,” she assured him, despite his words. “It ain’t a bad way to get someone’s attention, especially lookin’ as handsome as you do.”

Collin’s apparent lack of self assurance showed itself further when he asked her if she thought they would be impressed to see him up on the runway. “My darlin’, you’ll turn every single head in that room. Jaws are gonna drop, just you see! Besides, this is for charity, and a good cause, too - showin’ up for those in need is one sure way to a girl’s heart.” She was twirling his hair around her fingers when she added, “But, Collin, love…just make sure you know what you want before you let anythin’ happen, yeah? If you don’t make a clear decision, hearts will break.”

1708617231852.pngIt was when Savannah left the dressing room and went out onto the runway that it dawned on Jane what she had got herself into. Savannah was a professional model, whereas Jane had never even been on stage before - well, not since her days singing in the chorus of her primary school’s Christmas plays. “Mam?” She was fretting now, her hands trembling and her stomach turning. Even under all her makeup, she could see in the mirror that her face had turned pale. Once she had Roxie’s attention, she reached for her mother’s hands. “I don’t think I can do it. I feel sick.” Tears formed in her eyes. “I’m gonna throw up on the stage in front of everyone and it’s gonna ruin the whole thing! And my dress is too tight - what if it falls down, o-or the floor is slippy and I can’t - in my heels -” It was hard to speak all of a sudden, like her breath was running out, and she let go of Roxie and began to shake out her hands as if trying to gain control of the trembling. “What if they laugh at me?”

Overhearing the young woman’s nerves, Shona looked over at her and Roxie. “Girl, but you look just like your beautiful mum,” she told her. “Don’t she, Collin? You’ve got that alabaster skin, gorgeous soft brown hair and those electric blue eyes, just like your mother. You think anyone would laugh at her?”

Jane was occupied by trying to take steady, even breaths, but eventually she shook her head and squeaked out a quiet, “No…”

“Course not!” Shona added. “Then why would they laugh at you, hm?”

But despite Shona’s encouraging words, Jane was still so daunted by the idea of having everyone’s eyes on her that she just looked to her mother for comfort.

Interactions
Bellz Bellz Collin, Roxie
Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess (present) Arabella
Misty Gray Misty Gray (mentioned) Savannah
 
Greenwich Park Playground
~Greenwich Park, London~

Jeremy Gray
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Jeremy had been downtown to do some shopping when he stopped at a little bookstore with faded paint on the front. The little bay window style display that pivoted out into the street was full of panes of dusty glass, and the shelves inside were lined with books of various size, color and what one could only assume was degrees of wear. It had been a long time since he had seen this store, and in part he had to acknowledge he had been avoiding it. It was the store he'd taken Harper to many times, his old haunt, his favorite place in the world before the collapse of his life as he knew it. Now a "For Sale" sign was nailed up across the door, with information on who to call if anyone was interested. Jeremy looked through the windows with a hand covering his eyes, peering inside. It was exactly how he remembered it, as if he had only been there yesterday.

The counter sat inside to the left , cluttered with books. The store was littered with different size and level of comfort seats scattered among the shelves like leaves blown from a tree. Being between two other buildings, no windows lit the dim place past the first few feet. Taking down the information on the building, Jeremy decided without a second thought that he was going to buy it. Jeremy had never been one hurt for cash, even though no one really knew it. Between his inheritance from his uncle, and the life insurance policy that paid out after Harper's accident, Jeremy had more than enough money to provide for even his great grandkids to have a great start in life. This, this he was going to do for himself, for Bucky, for Harper's memory.

A block or two down was another trip up memory lane, reminding Jeremy of the exact reason he hadn't come here since coming back to London. He'd intentionally stayed away and gone to places further from his home just to avoid it, but today he'd decided to just face it down - he was growing tired of driving twice as long to go somewhere he had right down the street. With Nicholas at a friend's house for the weekend, it was the best time to do it - out of sight of his child's very impressionable eyes. The diner was not the same. It was shiny, new, all redone and modernized, but still holding to its old designs. It looked as if it must have on the day it first opened, like stepping back in time.

Jeremy kept walking, needing to get away from it before his lungs exploded from not being able to breath. Everywhere here reminded him of Harper. He was finally starting to realize just how much he had been burying as his feet rushed him towards an area not surrounded by buildings. The park gave him a chance to breath fresh air as the soul softened the sound of his feet on the ground. Leaning over with his hands on his knees, he took several deep breaths and tried to get his head back under control, along with his heart rate. Seeing a bench nearby out of the corner of his eye, he slumped down, still hanging his head nearly between his knees with his back to the other occupant. After a few moments his breathing became easier and he slowly sat up until his back was straight. A few sniffles might be heard faintly over the sounds of kids playing as Jeremy pushed back all the outbursting feelings and regained himself.

Finally he turned and put his back to the bench, realizing he was sat rather near a blonde woman pushing a stroller. Instantly he slid away, putting space between them. Practiced at minding his face, even in public, he plastered on a polite smile, and said, "Apologies, I didn't mean to sit so close."


Bellz Bellz - Mommy and Me
 
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The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~


Klaus Jäger
Wesley Roberts​

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Security remained Wesley's utmost concern, yet the ongoing event was proving to be a significant distraction. As familiar faces paraded down the runway, he frequently glanced away from the stage. However, each time a striking model graced the catwalk, his attention was promptly ensnared. Klaus resorted to shaking him several times to regain his focus."Wes, Wesley," Klaus called out, resorting to snapping his fingers in front of the Northern Irishman's face. "You're behaving as though you've never laid eyes on a woman before, Wes. It's becoming absurd." The "r" in Klaus's speech rolled unnaturally and sharply, characteristic of many Germans, the sound emanating from the depths of their throats. Such harshness seemed out of place coming from a man typically known for his gentle demeanor. Positioned by the bar, Wesley turned to signal the bartender, silently preparing himself for a customary Klaus lecture, evident in the air.

"You can’t keep ignoring, Rory forever." Klaus said, leaning his side against the bar as he just ordered a club soda with lemon. That distinctive throaty "R" sound echoed once again. Wesley turned to face Klaus, meeting his gaze head-on. "I’ll ignore Rory for as long as I see fit. R sound comes off the tongue, Klaus. Not like hacking up a chicken bone from the back of yer throat." Klaus grimaced before saying, "Why do you care how I say it like that? If you are so mad at Rory…you should be pleased with how I’m butchering her name." As the bartender set Wesley's pint in front of him, he rubbed his hands together, admiring the foam settled at the glass's top. "Now this is what I call a drink," he remarked, casting a teasing glance at Klaus's club soda. "Playing it safe?" he teased, to which Klaus simply nodded before taking a sip from his glass.

"We’re on duty, Agent Roberts. You’re supposed to be making sure the place is secure…alcohol can hinder your ability to make quick decisions."

"Not the way I drink it, Klaus," Wesley retorted before taking a sip from his glass. "It makes me more confident in them... if anythin'," he added with a satisfied sigh. Klaus shook his head before scanning the room. Upon spotting Spencer King, he turned to Wesley. "Let's check the perimeter and then speak with Spencer." Wesley eyed the man who was off by the cocktail tables before lifting his pint. "Fine. But ye better protect my neck if he reaches for me. I want to be able to finish this drink."

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Klaus and Wesley divided their efforts, meticulously inspecting the inner perimeter of the venue at their own pace. Upon confirming that everything appeared to be in order, they reconvened and made their way toward the eldest of the King siblings. Klaus exuded confidence, while Wesley seemed preoccupied, his gaze drifting toward a model he had locked eyes with in the far corner of the room—a striking redhead. He entertained the idea of slipping away from the conversation to conduct another perimeter check…but knew he wouldn’t get away with it right now.

They settled into their seats just as a couple passed by, drawing Spencer's attention. Intrigued, Wesley followed suit and nearly had his eyes pop out of his head at the sight of the woman. Whoever she was with seemed invisible as he watched her stroll away. Klaus glanced briefly but then politely averted his gaze. Spencer's smirk spoke volumes, and Wesley couldn't resist mirroring it before returning to quietly sip his drink.

"Some of the outfit choices are... interesting," Klaus remarked with a light chuckle, unwilling to acknowledge that some of them made him uneasy. Spencer's direct, no-nonsense conversation style wasn't foreign to Klaus, who simply smiled at his dry comments regarding Trevor. "Any information I do have, I'm afraid, shouldn't be discussed in such a public area," Klaus responded, maintaining a diplomatic tone.

Wesley interjected, "Even the walls tend to have eyes and ears." With a hint of uncertainty, he carefully placed his pint on the table and locked eyes with Spencer. "We're doing our best to gather what we can from him. It's been relatively quiet on their end since our successful operation a few weeks ago, not to mention the visit to yer office."

"Trevor always keeps us informed the moment he learns anything. Any useful intel is promptly relayed to us,"
Klaus reassured. However, Wesley couldn't shake the feeling that the silence from their adversaries might signify something more ominous. Although he didn't want to alarm Spencer, he regarded him intently. "What are yer thoughts on their sudden quietness? As someone familiar with making strategic criminal moves... what do ye think they're planning?" Klaus looked to Wesley, a little blown away by the profound question but then looked to Spencer wondering what he’d say.
with: Spencer Misty Gray Misty Gray
nearby: Alex? Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess
 
The Ballroom
~ Covent Gardens, London ~

Roxie Porter


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A Fashion Show Charity Event provided the perfect platform for vendors to auction off their clothing items while simultaneously contributing to a noble cause. Charity endeavors always yielded favorable publicity, making it an opportune moment to reignite interest in the King family which tied interest into her own. Attending her first significant event in what felt like ages, Roxie found herself on edge. Social gatherings had once been a source of immense joy during her youth. She'd effortlessly engage in conversations with anyone, feeling like an unstoppable force of nature, brimming with confidence. Reflecting on those times now, she realized there had been an element of blissful ignorance, despite occasionally finding herself in precarious situations. Some might describe her current demeanor as jaded, but she recognized it as a natural progression from youth to wisdom and experience—a state of greater self-control. That's what she kept telling herself to navigate through the evening. Yet, from the moment they left the house, Roxie sensed trouble brewing and it made her anxious.

It wasn't to the point where she was weak in the knees as she had been with Syd, which had yet to present itself. But she was breathless and every time she took a deep breath, it only seemed to force air from her lungs and jeopardized her lung capacity in the next inhale. Roxie had been seeing a cardiologist in Germany since the discovery of her little heart problem but it was a lot more difficult to establish one in London without going through hoops first. She had enough blood pressure medication to get her by for the time being but she was beginning to worry as every day, it was getting lower and lower. However, it was the threat of her escalating anxiety that concerned her the most. Roxie had always managed it her way and rather effectively up until recently, when it felt like all her defenses had crumbled, leaving her vulnerable. Her past coping mechanisms seemed futile now, especially with her demons resurfacing. Perhaps that's why her pre-existing condition manifested when she was at her most vulnerable.

Lucia and Sebastian were with family members who decided to stay away from large gatherings, and Roxie couldn't blame those who didn't show. Although she trusted her two youngest were in good hands, it did little to quell her nerves. Even donning her favorite-colored dress failed to distract her from the mounting sense of dread that swelled in her chest. Throughout the journey from home to the venue, she masked her turmoil...an old habit that had yet to die hard, engaging with Syd, Jane, J.J., and Ari as if everything was normal. Roxie knew the recent discussion she had with Syd about being honest was meant to be a step in the right direction, but it felt like the wrong time to say that she felt like she was suffocating in the sea of people and needed to come up for air.

As the crowd began to swell in the main area, Roxie busied herself backstage, assisting Jane and Arabella with their preparations for their modeling debut. She genuinely felt excited for them, despite her lingering unease. Rationalizing that Syd's thorough security measures, coupled with the King family's protection and Interpol's involvement, should allay her concerns, she attempted to focus on enjoying the event and supporting the children. Shona King's involvement in childcare added to her reassurance, as Roxie found her to be a delightful person. However, despite the positive interactions and Savvy's unexpected presence, Roxie remained unsettled. Shona had done great work helping to get the girls ready and Roxie let her take the lead and assisted her where she needed. Right now, she felt she was better at helping get some water for them all and light snacks. She knew it could be a little overwhelming, especially for Jane who tended to get anxious about being in the spotlight.
*​

Collin McCarthy

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Collin found himself blushing as Shona reacted with excitement to his confession, a shy smile playing on his lips while her expression turned proud. "Oh, I believe you," he chuckled softly. It was weird how they were still having this conversation from the context that both of the people he was caught in the middle of were women when it was two men…but it was working, for now. Shona's reassurance that she wouldn't judge him for participating in the fashion show to impress his love interests made him feel validated and understood, despite the secrecy surrounding it all. He relaxed into his seat, feeling more at ease than he had before.

Yet, he couldn't shake the uncertainty of whether this would truly impress anyone or have any impact on the people he cared about. In the past, such considerations hadn't been his primary motivation for his actions. A lot was changing for him; his motivations were different now. Perhaps it had to do with not having come out of the closet yet? He wasn't even sure where to begin with that. "You flatter me too much, Shona. My cheeks can't get any redder," Collin replied, his smile widening until his already pink cheeks began to ache. Shona pointed out that the event was for charity, suggesting that showing up for those in need was a sure way to win someone's heart.

Collin still didn't feel the need to correct her, though the words hovered at the edge of his lips, feeling unfamiliar and unsettling. In a short period, Shona had gained his trust and made him feel comfortable enough to almost confess his true feelings. Suppressing the urge to speak, he was grateful for her words of caution, a brief reprieve before the weight of their meaning settled in. "I will," he managed to say, his voice strained as he cleared his throat. "I don't want to hurt anyone... I just... I'm not sure what I want right now, you know?" Collin admitted, meeting Shona's gaze in the mirror, his eyes reflecting the sadness and confusion he still harbored. The excitement of impressing both Michael and Lucas was waning, replaced by a growing sense of apprehension at the thought of seeing them possibly together.

But he wasn't the only one feeling anxious, and when Jane expressed feeling sick, Collin turned his attention to her reflection in the mirror.
to: Shona Pyroclast Pyroclast

*​
Roxie Porter
When Roxie returned, she entered the room to find Jane calling her name. "Janey Baby, what's wrong?" she inquired, her voice gentle. Her anxieties dissipated instantly as her attention focused solely on her daughter. Roxie swiftly assessed Jane's condition, noting the trembling of her hands. As Jane reached out, Roxie set down the water bottles and snacks before hurrying to her side in three long strides. Tenderly, Roxie took Jane's clammy hands in hers, her thumbs offering soothing strokes. When tears welled in Jane's eyes, Roxie's concerned expression softened. "Jane, look at me, okay? Let the thoughts come, and then let them go. They're just thoughts, aren't they? What do we do with thoughts we don't like?" she gently prodded, before answering her question. "We honor them, and then we let them pass." Roxie noticed Jane struggling to breathe and released her hands, instead placing her own on the sides of her daughter's face, careful not to disturb her makeup. "Laugh at you? Jane, look at yourself, you're radiant. Beautiful!"

Turning to glance at Shona, who was attending to Collin, Roxie couldn't help but blush as she complimented both Jane and Shona. With a confident smile, Roxie nodded along with Shona's words until she inquired whether anyone would laugh at Roxie. "Deep breaths, sweets," she cooed to her daughter, gently pushing a stray hair back into place as Jane worked to regain her composure. Despite Shona's encouraging words, Jane still sought comfort from Roxie, who moved in to give her a tight hug. "Shona's absolutely right, darling. You're stunning... but you also have a unique beauty that's all your own," Roxie reassured her. As she pulled away, Roxie grinned at Jane, a hint of mischief sparkling in her eyes. "We can't control what others do. If people laugh at me, I laugh with them. Takes the sting out of it. It's not a joke anymore if I'm in on it, right? Confidence is key. Sometimes you've got to fake it till you make it."

"But if you're going to step out there, Jane, you need to believe in yourself,"
Roxie continued, her tone firm but loving. "Beauty isn't just skin deep... it's about embracing who you are and feeling confident in your skin. And I have full faith in you, kid. You can achieve anything you set your mind to."
with: Jane/Shona Pyroclast Pyroclast ; Arabella Melanin-Gxdess Melanin-Gxdess ; Me (Collin)
 
The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Jolene Foley
(Jeanie Porter)


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Jeanie let out a sharp exhale, a brief laugh escaping between her teeth at Logan's remark about finding a place where women were guaranteed to have at least some clothing. "You did seem rather miserable for a guy surrounded by women barely dressed," she remembered. Despite the gravity of their circumstances, the sound of his laughter oddly soothed her. Jeanie's head tilted as she glanced at his suit, taking in his attire as Logan drew attention. "You clean up nicely. Much better than most here, who I'm sure emptied their wallets for this," she complimented, trying to maintain a facade of nonchalance. He was here, at an event supposedly hosted by her family, though she wasn't fully aware of the details. Her thoughts were divided, analyzing the situation while striving to appear composed—not wanting to embarrass herself in front of a man she never expected to encounter again, and to whom she was undeniably more attracted than she had admitted to herself before, especially as she continued to admire him in that suit.

She might have engaged further if Jeanie hadn't been so preoccupied with why Logan was there. But now, she wasn't even certain if she could fulfill her promise to see her sister. While their unexpected encounter initially felt like fate intervening after their night together, it now seemed more like a setup. Jeanie's eyes briefly flickered to the security check-in as Logan mentioned he was on duty. My boss and his wife are inside. Jeanie's brows furrowed slightly as she pondered. Her memory often failed her, particularly regarding events during her recent struggles with substance abuse. He mentioned something about a family he traveled from Scotland to London with…

Jeanie scoffed now distracted from her thought as Logan mentioned that he had prevented a creep from being stabbed to death. He explained that many people attending the event were important to his boss, so he preferred to keep an eye out rather than just watch the show. "First of all, he deserved whatever was coming to him," Jeanie began, crossing her arms over her chest and shifting her weight to one foot, her left hip jutting out as she sighed and glanced around them. "Secondly, any man who takes advantage of a woman in any way deserves some form of punishment. Stabbing would have been mild, in my opinion. An ambulance would have arrived before he bled out," she muttered. However, that would have led her to commit murder, lose her job, and end up in prison. Jeanie's blue eyes shifted from the side back toward Logan as her face turned slightly to the right, peering at him from beneath her lashes. The handsome man had rescued her from herself and a fate possibly worse than death. Yet, she wouldn't express gratitude to him. Tough.

There was a brief moment of silence between them, and when she met his gaze directly, Jeanie felt the intensity of it, as if it could penetrate her skin, causing a tingling sensation that made her cheeks blush pink. Fortunately, in the dim evening light, it wasn't too noticeable. "What about you? Why are you here?" he asked. While Jeanie understood that the question could have been turned back on her, she still found herself momentarily taken aback by it. Her tension was starting to heighten but Logan then joked about a sexy biker chick parade, suggesting it would be something he'd like to see if she were involved.

At first, a giggle escaped her lips, one she hadn't initially recognized as her own. It was followed by a genuine smile. The sound felt unfamiliar, not because of its tone, but because it seemed alien to her ears. It resonated with a sense of naturalness and vitality, reminiscent of the person she used to be when she was close to Jane many years ago before unresolved problems drove her away. Before she transformed into... whatever she had become at present. It was as if an older iteration of herself suddenly resurfaced.

The sense of familiarity with her former self bolstered Jeanie's confidence as she locked eyes with Logan, her blue gaze now steady as a sly grin danced at the corner of her lips. "Why am I here?" she echoed, her voice brimming with assurance. "To inject a little chaos into this shit and continue to give you a run for your money," she teased, though she knew it wouldn't suffice as a legitimate answer. With a subtle cough, she cleared her throat, realizing she needed a better strategy to get inside and see Jane before it was too late. However, Logan working security posed a significant obstacle, creating a frustrating dilemma. It felt like a no-win situation, and Jeanie was adamant about keeping her true identity and purpose concealed from him.

"I have some business to take care of around here," Jeanie explained, her tone casual yet purposeful. "I just happen to stick out like a sore thumb in this sea of silk and suits as I was passing through. Some nosy woman earlier was gawking at me like she'd never seen a woman in a pair of jeans before," she added with an eye roll. Closing the gap between them, Jeanie took a few steps closer to Logan, her movements deliberate and filled with playful energy. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she extended her fingers, lightly grazing the collar of his suit."As for that sexy biker chick parade," she began, her tone tinged with allure but fighting to maintain a straight face, "it really wouldn't be fair to the other models. No playing favorites, even if you've already seen what's underneath the jacket and jeans," she teased, her gaze flickering up to meet Logan's before she winked.

Shifting gears smoothly, Jeanie returned to her earlier line of questioning, her voice now infused with feigned interest and a hint of flirtation. "The family you mentioned, the ones from Scotland? The Cockney ones?" she asked, keeping up her playful charm. "Are they the ones hosting this fancy shindig?" she added, a coy smile playing at her lips. Jeanie was aware of her family's involvement in the event, but she needed to uncover precisely who Logan was working for. She understood that her coy, flirtatious demeanor could only mask her true intentions for so long. Despite the layers of confidence she had meticulously rebuilt, a creeping fear began to gnaw at her. She worried that she had entangled herself with someone she should have kept at arm's length."It's quite the event. I hope I'm not distracting you too much from your big hero duties, Logan." she quipped, her eyes dancing with amusement as she awaited his response.
with: Logan Misty Gray Misty Gray
nearby: Syd Pyroclast Pyroclast
 
The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Syd Porter

1708729816145.pngWorking alongside Spencer was proving to be surprisingly easy. They worked together as efficiently and respectfully as if they had never been enemies, each of them reporting to the other anything relevant to either family. It was unlike Syd to make fast friends of somebody, but that was what seemed to be happening. He liked the way Spencer communicated: leaving nothing out, never mincing his words, always ready to tell him the facts as they were. Syd now knew that the Carters were aware of their being back in London, just as he had told Spencer about the failed drug bust and the injuries sustained on their side - notably his brother, Thomas, whose Kevlar vest had saved him from taking a bullet through the chest. They hadn’t been back in the UK for long, but already they had to be careful.

With their presence in London no longer a secret from anybody - not even Jeanie - the families had decided it was worth trying to recover their reputations from the 1980s. At the time of their exile in 1985, Syd had been too distressed to follow much of how the media had handled their alleged deaths, but he had since learned that they were mostly remembered in a poor light. They had their fans, of course, but in general the media focused on the destruction their wars caused and the reasons Interpol were on their case in the first place. Now that they were back and working for Interpol instead of as a criminal organisation, Syd wanted to focus on the good work they had once done: the shelters, orphanages, and other charities they had established or supported.

Over the past four weeks, Syd had been busying himself by co-organising a charity fashion show alongside the Kings, the proceeds of which would go to Safe Hands, the shelter he had set up years ago for abused and orphaned children, as well as other charities the families supported. A lot of the work that had gone into it came from his own family and the Kings, from the administration to the creatives, the security and the models themselves, so Syd wanted the building to have the highest security possible. Too many large scale events involving his family had been subject to attacks and become traumatic: Savannah’s kidnapping, Sinead’s poisoning, the shooting that ended up killing his father. And since his brother had been recently injured, he was all too aware that an attack could be due. He had even arranged for his own trusted guards that he had once known back in Dublin to fly over to London especially for the event.

The lights were down, the runway lit, and all the guests sat at their booths and cabaret tables enjoying champagne and canapés. Syd had tested all the fire exits and had assigned guards to watch any window or door that could be opened - or wrenched open - from the outside. He had delegated his old trusted team to do background checks on all the guests, and informed the guards that under no circumstances would anyone not on the list be allowed inside. However, even with all those precautions, part of him was still slightly on edge.

After checking up on a few of the tables and the guards stationed throughout the venue, Syd wandered to the main entrance and fished the silver case out of his pocket. “Hey, Caolán,” he greeted the doorman as he lit his cigarette. “Everything going okay?”

“Grand,” the man said. “Hey, can I get one of those?”

“You watch the bloody door,” Syd ordered, batting him on the arm. “I need you to focus, Caolán. You haven’t left this spot since the doors opened, have you?”

“Not even for a piss,” Caolán grumbled. “Would ye' ever take over for a minute?”

“Mate, I’m not taking your place for nothing. My daughter's going on soon and I am not missing her 'cause you were in the jacks.”

Caolán sighed, then pointed over to a couple standing not so far away, and just out of the light. “Alright, how's about when that guy finishes his smoke break, he takes my place?”

Syd frowned as he exhaled a breath of smoke. “What guy?”

When he followed Caolán’s finger and squinted into the dimly lit garden ahead, he noticed a man getting close with a woman. He could only see the woman’s long brunette hair, but the man he soon realised was Logan. “Hey, Logan!” Syd called out to him, and began to make his way over. “Aren’t you meant to be on duty? Who’s on your post?”

He hadn’t even fully reached the couple when he saw who it was. “Jeanie?” he asked with a frown. “What...?" Through his puzzlement there formed a light smile on his face, his hope of seeing her more often briefly surfacing. "Hi.” He looked between the pair, confused as to why they had been standing so close, before his questioning eyes landed on Logan. “How do you know my daughter?”

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