Realistic or Modern Gangs of Birmingham - IC Thread [Open & Accepting]

[ReverseTex]

The Tea-Terrace - Tea Shop and Bistro
- City Centre, Birmingham, England -

BasDorcha

Dr. Richard Finley

Richard crossed his good leg over his poorer one, his typical seating habit, making himself comfortable. “Now I certainly won’t be opposed to that. The city of Birmingham might have a few minor complaints,” he teased back. Once his tea arrived, he gratefully nodded to the server before stirring it carefully. “Piss off, you know better than anyone I took the job with noble intent!” He joked. “I miss my students, and I do miss teaching.” Taking a sip of his tea, he paused. "But I think I can make real change. It might be small, but if I can just help Brummie’s sleep a little easier, I’ve done my job.”

Dean always had a harder time talking, and the nerves were written all over him. His own posture was relaxed, leaning on his left elbow a bit. Despite looking collected, he couldn’t quite quench the anxiety in his own chest. Was he being stupid? The lie he told himself was he should do this for work reasons. A scandal could set back any work he had a shot of completing. And worse, both men could face serious charges. In reality, he didn’t want to get hurt again. He was to old for that level of pain again.

However, seeing Dean look like a nervous teenager throughly amused him. He couldn’t keep a wry simper from his face, despite trying to hide it. “Still can’t seem to shake you after all these years?” He smiled. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, Dean,” Richard seriously remarked. “If that happens to be tea shops, then so be it. I’ll have to start drinking more of this then as opposed to coffee.” He lifted his glass again for another sip, masking his grin.

 

[BeyondDandy]

Tony Fletcher’s Residence
- Aston, Birmingham, England -

SULLY FLETCHER
​

The cab bounced over the uneven cobblestones, headlights cutting through the dense fog. Sully sat calmly in the back of the car, his face partially illuminated by passing streetlights. The city blurred outside the rain-speckled window, but he hardly noticed. His thoughts were somewhere, somewhere between the past and the present, between the devastation he'd left behind and the tenuous prospect of a regular night ahead.

Tony and Julia waited for him at Tony's residence. They had promised a proper night out, with no business, no schemes, and no mention of Russo or the Walkers. Just a few pints at the pub and the opportunity to feel human again, albeit only for a few hours. Sully agreed, but he wasn't sure his mind would allow him to enjoy it.

His hand moved to his coat pocket, revealing a little notepad and pen. Felicity Walker had been on his mind recently, more than he wanted to admit. He hadn't seen her in weeks, since the fallout with Russo. Her father—or even her brother—had pushed her out of the deal, leaving her on the outside of a game she'd once been a part of. Sully was all too familiar with that emotion, and the notion of leaving her adrift like that gnawed at him.

He flipped open the notepad and stared at the blank page for a time before the words started flowing.

Felicity,
It’s been a while, and I just wanted to check in. I hope you’re alright. I know things have been… messy, and I can only imagine how you’re feeling. If you ever need someone to talk to—or even just sit with—you know where to find me. I’ve been thinking about you. Maybe more than I should, but I couldn’t let another day pass without writing this. Let me know you’re okay, yeah?
Sully.

He folded the page neatly and placed it in his jacket pocket. Whether he'd send it or not was a question for another time. For the time being, simply writing it felt like enough.

The cab slowed as it went onto Tony's street, and Sully noticed the home ahead. Warm light filtered through the drapes, and Julia's shadow glided across the window. For a little moment, he felt a sharp, unusual sensation. Not envy, precisely, but more like longing. Longing for the simplicity that appeared to reside within those walls, a simplicity he couldn't quite grasp.

The vehicle came to a stop, and Sully stepped out into the cool night air. He strolled approached the home with his hands in his pockets, fingertips brushing against the folded paper.

Misty Gray

 

[Misty Gray]

Horizon Lounge
- Westside, Birmingham, England -

Aidan Jones​

Aidan was under no illusions that Jon Russo was a businessman similar to himself and Robert Walker. He knew that despite any agreement and cooperation at present, they were all leaders out for their own gains. Whilst there was always a chance Russo could turn on him, Aidan was certain he had more than enough to offer to make their alliance a worthwhile success.

A crooked smile crossed Aidan's lips as the other man explained everything was in place for the current phase of the plan. "The Fletchers are already a family torn apart, so tonight will be the final nail. With Tony out of the picture and the Walkers no longer there to prop them up, they'll back down without a fight. Even with Tony, they barely have real leadership," he remarked.

The Fletchers were the easy part. Aidan knew the Walkers would be far more difficult to take down. They had many members, blood-related or not, who were capable of stepping into Robert's shoes or at least maintaining order. The family had powerful allies across political, legal, and underground areas. That support extended internationally. Violence and murder alone wouldn't allow Aidan to take Birmingham. He'd come to learn he had to play the Walkers differently. Without support, or compliance, from the allies the Walkers had, then it would prove difficult to take over the Birmingham empire. Ripping everything from Robert's cold, dead hands may be an enticing option, but an even better one was for the man to beg him to take it from him. Aidan would be doing him a favour. That process had started months ago, and whilst the gala attack had failed to end with Robert or Tony dead, it had put them under the spotlight and made a dent in their reputations.

Of course, Russo's words came with a "but". That was no surprise, and understandable he would have concerns about how their partnership would be equitable to himself. He nodded his head without hesitation, showing he understood Russo's points.

"Allow me to explain," he began, sitting forward with conviction. "Despite owning fine establishments such as this one, I'm a man of simple needs. I believe in continuing family name and tradition, and my father and others before me had a great love for Birmingham. I echo his convictions that this city belongs to the working class people before anyone else. The upper classes, the capitalists, they stole this city from the hands of the people. The Walkers stole Birmingham from men like my father, and the Fletchers not only stood back and let it happen, but they were also complicit in enabling it to happen. Both families are now in bed with each other - in some senses, quite literally!" he pointed out.

"Before I could return here, to the city my family had a right stake in, I needed to have enough weight behind me. I had to spend many years building up power elsewhere. What you will gain in return for helping me to take Birmingham, will be the power to distribute your product in both Belfast and Cardiff. You already have a significant cut in London, so I will pave the way for you to have influence in two more capitals. All I ask is for sole control over Birmingham once the Walkers and Fletchers have been removed from power," he explained.

BeyondDandy (Russo)

 

[Misty Gray]

Tony & Julia Fletcher's House
- Aston, Birmingham, England -

Tony Fletcher​

Tony was becoming irate in his mission to tidy up in the living before he could start getting ready for the pub. He was at least glad he'd told Sully to come to the house so his brother wouldn't be sitting at the pub waiting impatiently. Having rewired the ceiling light that afternoon, which he thought he'd done a good job at, the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling now insisted on flickering. Before bothering to switch the electricity off and disturb Julia with that whilst she was getting ready, he wanted to make sure the problem wasn't simply that the bulb was loose in the fitting.

He was conscious the curtains still needed to be hung back in front of the front window again, but the flickering right was annoying him too much so that would have to wait. He ascended the wooden stepladder to inspect the light fitting closer, a towel wrapped around his hand in case he accidentally touched the hot glass of the bulb.

On account of the trips in and out of the back door of the house to put away tools in the shed, Tony hadn't yet locked the door which led to the back garden. This had allowed an uninvited guest to sneak into the house via the secluded back garden. The man, dressed head to toe in black, had been hiding in the hallway having passed through the kitchen. Stepped around the doorframe, he held his gun out in front, raising his arms to aim the weapon at Tony's head, meters away.

Before the assailant squeezed the trigger, a loud pop and a cracking sound was heard as the living room was plunged into almost darkness. "Fuckin' twat!" Tony called out as he automatically shielded himself in anticipation for the lightbulb to explode above him. Thankfully it didn't, but the surprise caused him to tumble from the stepladder. Even before he landed on the floor, a loud bang was heard. The sound of a gun being fired. Tony hit the floor with a thud, along with the crash of the ladder beneath him. The first bullet had missed him. It took a moment for his thoughts to catch up to him as he sat up. It seemed unlikely he'd really heard a gunshot and that he'd instead knocked something else over in his fall.

All that lit the room was the dim streetlights through the front window. That and the brief flickering of headlights of a cab pulled away from the bottom of the Fletchers driveway. The gunman had missed the target's head on account of the Tony foolishly - or luckily - falling from the stepladder. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure approaching the house from the bottom of the driveway. The gunman snapped his head back to the direction of Tony as the man was getting back to his feet. Squeezing the trigger three times in rapid succession, at least two of the bullets hit the target this time.

"Mr Walker sends his regards!" the masked gunman deeply called out to Tony. He then made a rapid exit back through the kitchen and out of the back door, before Sully had chance to reach the front door.

Tony had stumbled back down to sitting on the floor with the impact of the two bullets hitting him. He felt the pain in the right side of his chest before that in his abdomen. "JULIA!" Tony called out, fearful the gunman was going after her next, not realising the man was in fact making his escape. Clutching at his wounds, he got up and stumbled towards the staircase. His hands were already soaked in blood as it seeped through the gaps in his fingers. In his shock, he didn't realise that Sully had now entered the house.

BeyondDandy (Sully) neverbackdown (Julia)

 

[neverbackdown]

Birmingham City Centre
- City Centre, Birmingham, England -

Victoria "Rory" Fletcher
​

Felicity's reassurance was unexpected and, to Rory, somewhat surprising. Then again, she hadn’t expected Felicity to step in and help her in the first place—yet here they were. It was clear that the news had already started to ripple through both families, subtly shifting their approaches toward one another—or at least, that’s what Rory attributed Felicity’s actions to. Maybe Felicity was just a genuinely kind person, someone who couldn’t stand by and let something happen when she had the power to intervene. As much as Rory wanted to believe she would’ve done the same in Felicity’s position, the truth was more complicated. Rory honestly didn’t know if she would have stepped in—at least, not before finding out they were related.

“Yeah, I’m starting to think an extra set of eyes is exactly what we all need,” she sighed in agreement, glancing over her left shoulder just in case she’d missed something. With nothing obvious standing out around them, Rory looked back toward Felicity.

When Felicity first disagreed, Rory raised an eyebrow in confusion, her body tensing instinctively as if bracing for something. But Felicity’s next words shocked her into a more relaxed stance. Clearing her throat, Rory frowned slightly and rubbed her left arm. It was still hard to think about Norman not being her father without letting her anger take over. Since her talk with Richard, though, Rory had been trying not to let it consume her. She was working on thinking about it rationally—without attacking whoever happened to be nearby.

“Yeah, it’s been pretty shit, if I’m honest,” she admitted, a small laugh slipping into her tone despite there being nothing remotely funny about the situation. “hmmm yeah maybe if this secret hadn’t been kept quiet, maybe things would’ve been different,” she mused in agreement, pausing briefly. “Although, it was an affair so I'm sure that still would have caused a lot of problems in itself". The annoyance at the whole order was present in her tone as she spoke. "Maybe if my parents kept it in their pants, everything would be so different" It had been a constant thought in her mind since that night in Richard's - how different the Walker and Fletcher relationship might have been had Robert and Dorothy never had the affair but she knew that without it happening, she wouldn't exist.

***********
Int;-
Misty Gray - Felicity

 

[neverbackdown]

Tony and Julia Fletcher's House
- Aston, Birmingham, England -

Julia Fletcher

​

When Tony first decided to redecorate the living room, Julia hadn’t been entirely sold on the idea. But with everything going on in their lives, she realized it would be a welcome distraction. It didn’t take long for Tony to rope her into their little DIY project, and in hindsight, she was glad she had caved—considering how much fun they’d ended up having together. They had just finished up for the day when she spotted an all-too-familiar look in her husband’s eyes. Quickly, she tried to step away, but her reaction was a split second too late. His hand darted out, leaving a smear of paint across her cheek.

“I do believe you’re the mess,” she teased, motioning toward the paint splattered across him. “But yes—to pints, and to you cleaning up,” she added with a laugh, handing him her paintbrush. Before he could take it, she made sure to swipe the bristles across his hand, leaving a streak of white paint behind. Leaning in, she kissed him, a small smirk playing at her lips. Her victory was short-lived, though, as Tony retaliated by smearing paint onto her arm just as she started to step away.

“I’ll get you back for this,” she threatened teasingly, narrowing her eyes. “You won’t know when, but I will.” With that, she turned and headed upstairs for a shower, an amused grin still playing on her lips.

*********
As Julia sat at her vanity, carefully applying her lipstick, she heard Tony shout from downstairs. She shook her head in mild amusement, imagining her husband wrestling with the curtains or some other stubborn object that had earned his frustration.

But then came a sound that shattered her amusement. A sharp, unmistakable crack that sent a jolt of ice through her veins.

A gunshot.

Before she could process it, another rang out—one... two... three more times. Julia was already on her feet, her heart thundering as she rushed to the nightstand. Her fingers fumbled briefly as she yanked it open and grabbed the pistol she kept hidden inside.

She was halfway to the bedroom door when she heard Tony shout her name and the fear in his voice stopped her cold.

Were they coming upstairs? Was she next? she thought. He's still alive—he must be—but what if…

Julia swallowed hard, forcing herself to push down the rising panic. Her hands trembled as she clicked the safety off, gripping the weapon tightly. Taking a deep breath, she eased the bedroom door open and stepped into the hallway.

The house, once warm and familiar, had transformed into a labyrinth of shadows. Every darkened corner seemed alive with menace. Her bare feet moved silently across the wooden floor as she crept toward the staircase, her eyes scanning every doorway, every shadow. Upstairs seemed quiet, and for now, it appeared she was alone.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Julia raised the gun to chest level, her arms steady despite the pounding of her heart. Her breath came shallow and fast as she descended each step cautiously. But when her gaze landed on the scene below, her blood ran cold.

Tony and his shirt soaked with a spreading stain of red. Blood seeped out of him at an alarming rate, the once white paint now turning pink in spots as blood mixed with the paint, a painful reminder of how easy and fun that day had been, now descended into chaos and pain. Julia froze, her legs rooted to the spot as her mind reeled. Suddenly, she was fifteen again, standing in the driveway as her father bled out before her eyes. The memory crashed over her like a wave, dragging her under.

The tears came before she even realized she was crying. But Tony's faint groan yanked her back to the present. She forced her feet to move, one agonizing step at a time, until she stood by him just in time to help gentle lower him to the ground.

Movement caught her eye and Julia immediately turned towards it putting herself in front of her injured husband, Julia raised the gun as her finger found the trigger. But just as she prepared to shoot, the figure came into focus. A familiar head of blonde hair. "Sully!" she shouted, her voice trembling with desperation. "Call an ambulance!" She turn almost immediately and dropped to her knees beside Tony, her shaking hands hovering uncertainly before finally pressing against the wound to slow the bleeding.

"Tony," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You're okay. You're going to be okay."

***************
Int;-
Misty Gray - Tony
BeyondDandy - Sully

 

[BasDorcha]

The Walker Residence

- Birmingham City Centre, Birmingham, England -​

Alfred Walker

Alfie sat back as he watched his father and for the first time saw him as more than just his father. His father seemed like an equal. He was no longer infallible, perfect, and above the mistakes of mortal man - instead he was the opposite. Robert Walker had become the poster-boy for late in life regrets. A child lost, another he never got to raise and had to watch as if a bystander. His wife was on the verge of leaving him - though Alfie prayed she could see her way through this - and that was just the tip of the iceberg. What came out of his dad's mouth surprised him though. His dad really felt that way? When his father stated he was just happy he was still willing to look him in the eye, Alfie gave his father a gentle smile.

Sitting forward, he caught his dad's eye and spoke softly, "Sure Dad, we didn't meet until I was three, physically, but you think I didn't know you before then? Mum always talked about you, surely you know that. It wasn't as if the first word I heard of you was the day you returned. I knew you in my heart, and a son always knows his father. Besides, with Charles around with his idol worship, I'm sure he would have made sure I knew who you were in either case." He leaned forward and patted his old man's hand before reclining back into his seat. "Don't give up Dad. That's something you taught me." He fell silent as his dad went on to tell him he appreciated the way Alfie had started to step up, then immediately he felt a wave of concern hit him.

His father knew something, what did he know? A million things ran through his mind as he tried to consider how things could get worse from here and they still make it through to the other side alive and well? He looked at his father, his gaze furling into a thoughtful look. "What do you mean it's going to get worse? What's happening? Is there something I need to know?"


Misty Gray - Robert (I'm sorry its short *sob*)

 

[Misty Gray]

The Walker Residence
- Edgbaston, Birmingham, England -

Robert Walker​

Robert softly smiled and nodded his head when Alfie pointed out how Caroline had always talked about him. He knew the difference there was that Caroline had believed he would return home from the war. At that time Robert hadn't told her about his abduction and torture, wanting to protect her from worrying even more. But the fact was, up until the day he finally did return to Birmingham in 1945, Robert for the most part assumed he would die without meeting Alfie first. "Charles loved this family. Remember that. I know he wasn't perfect and I encouraged some of his unhealthy behaviours, but even as a child, he went out of his way to protect you."

When his son told him not to give up, he let out a sigh. Whether it was his marriage, his family, or the business, he knew it would be easier to simply back down. But despite the current mental exhaustion, Robert knew he had a lot more fight in him yet. There was still too much to fight for with Caroline and the business. He never did know how to quit!

Alfie's attention was grabbed by Robert's words that things would get worse. Even if his son hadn't been keen for answers, Robert would have been giving them. His son wanted responsibility in the business, so he had to know what they were up against.

Robert stood and removed an A4-sized envelope from the top drawer of the sideboard. Still standing, he hovered close to the burning log fire, his eyes for a moment fixing on the flames as though they were enticing him towards them. Focusing back on Alfie, he removed some papers, but didn't hand them to him to read.

"I received this in the post a few days ago. Hand delivered at some point during the night." Rolling the papers up into a tube, he maintained a firm grip on it as he continued on. "What I'm holding is a contract to sell a number of my businesses. Not quite a laughable offer, but certainly not enough to coax any man into to signing. The concerning part is that whoever sent this proposal was also behind the gala attack. The people who wanted Gerald, Tony, and me dead--"

Before Robert could continue, the phone began to ring. Just as expected. "They said they'd be calling," he was quicky to add. When he held the receiver to his ear, the man on the other end spoke first.

"Do you have an answer for my boss?" the unfamiliar voice belonging to Rhys was heard.

"Of course," he began, his voice assertive. "You can tell your boss he can stick his proposal where the sun doesn't shine. No real businessman would think sending anonymous proposals is any way to instigate discussion. Nor is it the least bit intimidating. When he's ready to show his face and meet me, perhaps then I will take him seriously." As he spoke, Robert stretched out his arm and tossed the paperwork into the fire, immediately setting the sheets alight.

"Of course. He thought you'd say that," Rhys said, his voice remaining neutral. "Agreeing to sign that contract would have been the easy way, Mr. Walker. My boss will meet with you and when he does, he's certain you'll be more open to listening. You were warned."

Before Robert could speak again, the call was abruptly ended by the other man. Robert cleared his throat and placed the receiver back on the handset. "No doubt you realised that was them," he addressed Alfie as he moved to sit back on the sofa and top up his whiskey. "No amount of threats will made me take a man seriously when he won't show his face. I will not play along with their demands," he firmly asserted. "Still, this is why we need to increase security around the businesses and make sure something like the gala attack cannot happen again. Whether they like it or not, Caroline, Felicity, and Thomas will need to have security with them moving forward."

BasDorcha (Alfie)

 

[BasDorcha]

The Tea-Terrace - Tea Shop and Bistro

- City Centre, Birmingham, England -​

Dean Walters

Dean watched Richard like a boy with his first infatuation. Occassionally as he listened to him speak, he'd bite him lip and hum in agreement, returning the smiles sent his way. It felt good to be back at Richard's side, even if it wasn't the same as before. Just being around him calmed something inside Dean that he didn't even know he needed to attend to. It was like some tightly wrapped coil slowly released instead of exploding with a million pounds of pressure. When Richard commented about switching to more tea then coffee, there was a twinkle in Dean's eyes as he made the unconscious movement again before giving a broad smile that said a jumble of things at once.

"Hey, I'm a man of variety. I can handle two different things at once. Maybe one day I can have coffee and tea together." The suggestiveness behind his comment was in no way shape or form disguised. It was sinfully spoken with a husk to his voice, a lowness that would only allow it to travel between the two of them and no other ears, that made it even more intense. Dean let the words linger in the air between them as he ran a finger around the rim of his now empty glass, still watching him. Finally he looked away, the smile softening. "But as much as I'm enjoying this, I have to admit that trying to sweet talk you was not the only reason I called. I found something, something to do with the Marco case. I wanted to bring you along. You're good with people, and," he reached across the table and tapped Richard on the forehead before dropping back into his seat, "you're very good at using this. We'll likely need it."

Standing, he offered his hand to Richard, standing tall and just a little less lean than the last time his dear friend had seen him, he waited for him to take his hand and helped him to his feet. For just a moment his touch lingered the briefest of seconds longer than normal, Dean unable to shake the tingling in his fingers. As he steps away, hand dropping but hanging loosely in Richard's direction, he used his other hand to pitch a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the direction they were going. "It's just across the street and about two blocks down. Can you walk that far? If not I parked the car just around the corner when I got here." He waited patiently to see what the man said, casting his eyes in the direction of the alley that hopefully held the only witness to this crime.

ReverseTex - Richard Dear

 

[BasDorcha]

The Walker Residence

- Birmingham City Centre, Birmingham, England -​

Alfred Walker

Alfie's eyes trailed his father as the man pulled out the envelope, casting his a curious glance. What in the world was that? It had to be important if his dad was this serious about it, but at the same time, the man almost didn't seem serious at all, almost as if it wasn't important enough to worry about. It was a weird mixture of the two conflicting natures. When Alfie reached for them to see what they were, his father turned away to the fire, seeming lost in thought. This caused a deep furl to appear across Alfie's face, watching his father as a more serious look deepened his appearance.

The people who wanted Gerald, Tony and me dead--… The words rang in his ears as his temper shot through the roof in a way he had never quite felt before. Alfred wasn't prone to bouts of rage or temper tantrums. He was a mellow soul - or so it had always appeared. As the idea that someone was actively trying to pressure his family and it wasn't just some dumb thug trying to make a point, a feeling that could only be described as murderous intent filled him. Just as Alfie thought his dad was pausing to breath, the phone rang, stopping Alfie halfway out of his seat. He froze, looking at his father in slight surprise. He didn't seem to share the same feeling and Alfie soon knew why.

As the scene played out, Alfie bit back a whoop of support for his dad, instead settling back into his chair, simmering on his temper until his father was off the phone. It could wait, his dad needed to focus at this time.

The smell of burning paper filled the room, and as the phone call ended, Alfie waited for his Dad to finish what he was saying, nodding to confirm he figured out who was on the other end of the line. Alfie followed his father, filling a glass and downing it with one drink before filling it a second time and taking his seat back across from the man before him. "I agree. Security for each of them. I also think…" Alfie slowed to a stop looking at his dad before he steadied himself, speaking calmly though his voice had a harshness to it that wasn't there before, his eyes narrowed, subtle hints of the feelings below the surface.

"Should we maybe put men on Rory and Bonnie? They're both connected to the family…" he waited for his father to respond. He wasn't sure what made him put Bonnie on the list, but something squeezed on his heart so hard in the moment her face crossed his mind, it nearly killed the fire burning inside him. "We can put them at a very loose distance, instead of obviously at their side. Hell, might be better they don't even know…" He trailed off, thinking of what Bonnie would look like pissed off, and a grin broke his face before he came back to reality. "They might not take kindly to it, if you know what I mean."

Misty Gray - Robert Walker