Realistic or Modern The City: 1990s Gangs - IC Thread [ENDED]

[Bellz]

Between the Lines Bookstore
~ Islington, London ~

Rachel Fitz
Dawson Rogers
x Kids​

"So on a scale of 1 to 10 how pissed is Riley actually going to be with you when she finds out about our little excursion here?" Dawson asked, eyeing Rosie who was sitting with Laura over in the kid's book section as they were reading a book together before his eyes turned back to Rachel. They were close enough to the kids that he didn't feel the need to keep his focus on the girls 100% of the time, but he would still glance every so often. Rachel let out a light laugh, a smile gracing her face as she said, "You mean if she finds out?" To which Dawson gave her a knowing look. Eventually, Riley would find out. She always did. Even if Rachel was really, really careful. Rachel's smile slowly faded before she sighed, moving her to-go coffee cup to her lips to take a sip, buying herself a little time in answering as her eyes went to the girls in the kids' reading corner. When she finished taking her drink and thinking about what she wanted to say, her eyes found Dawson still looking at her, as patient as ever, which she always appreciated.

"I'm sure she won't be happy. But pissed?" Her nose scrunched up at even using that word, "Foul language for a foul thought. I doubt she'll be too upset. I can't be locked up in that house all day long, Laura deserves to have an outing and we've explored all the places we could in our sleepy little neighborhood. I'm not sure how many more times I can tell Riley that I just want the freedom to explore without sounding so painfully ungrateful for the life she's given Laura and me, ya know?" The woman asked sincerely and Dawson nodded his head in understanding.

"I don't think you could ever sound ungrateful for something, Rach. In fact, you're just about the most gracious person I've ever met." Dawson cracked a smile, "It's not my place to get involved in your relationship but it sounds like you both need to talk about how you feel. Because it sounds like you've been a bit dishonest about it to avoid sounding ungrateful which is ridiculous. You deserve your own personal freedoms as much as the rest of us." Dawson hoped that he wasn't taking things too far by saying that but Rachel actually smiled at him, which only made him smile more. "You're right. If only everyone was as easygoing as you are, especially my wife." Rachel said, letting out a soft laugh and Dawson joined in. "What can I say, I'm a catch. Too bad you're into women and I've sworn them off, we could have made a stellar couple." Rachel pulled a face and shoved him lightly, "That's one image I don't need in my head, mate. Thanks."

Dawson chuckled so loudly in the bookstore that people were starting to notice and when he finally started to quiet down, he noticed people staring, "Nosy bunch of bastards, huh?" He asked and Rachel shook her head, "Language, Dawson! The girls might hear you." She berated and the man just smiled before moving to take a sip from his own to-go cup of coffee, "Language, Dawson!" He mimicked under his breath and once again, Rachel playfully shoved him before deciding to browse one of the shelves closest to her. Her eyes looked over the different titles, not taking in anything to memory until she saw the title of a book, Little Women. It wasn't a book that she'd read before. At least one that she couldn't remember reading before, but the book itched at her memory in a way that made her reach for it.

"Little Women? Bildungsroman genre? I'm surprised." Dawson said from behind her and Rachel turned the book in her hands a few times over to look at the front and the back cover before looking up at him, "Bildungs-what? Is that German?" The dark-haired man let out a throaty chuckle, causing Rachel to smirk before she looked down at the front cover of the book again, fingers grazing over the title. "Bildungsroman. You're correct, it's German. In literature it's used for genres meaning "Novel of Education" But if you don't know German, which Rach, I don't think you sprechen Deutsch then in English it's just a coming of age novel." Rachel's eyes glanced up from the book to Dawson, "German lesson and a literature lesson, you are a teacher." She chuckled. Dawson laughed with her before he looked to the girls to see how they were doing in their little reading corner, "You should get the book, I don't think I've seen you read something that wasn't written in the Shakespearean Era or just some sort of screenplay. Jane Austen's works don't count."

Rachel laughed, " And why doesn't she count?" Dawson shrugged, "Because every woman reads it. Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility are basically just really, really, really, really, old Nora Roberts novels." Rachel scrunched her nose again and swatted Dawson this time, Gross!" Dawson didn't move but instead raised his brows at Rachel, "Gonna tell me I'm wrong?" She said nothing of course, instead just tucking the book she had in her hands under her arm. "I'll get this one, under your recommendation, it better be good."
will be with: a unfamiliar old face Pyroclast

 

[Pyroclast]

Between the Lines Bookstore
~ Islington, London ~

Bruce King​

During his time in France, never knowing if he would see his family again, Bruce dreamed of nothing more than for his nephews and niece to lead happy, healthy lives, wherever they had ended up. He felt old, older than he actually was, and with his heart giving him more trouble as the years went on, he had to resign himself to the fact that he might not meet his family again in his lifetime. Of course that still tortured him, but it was out of his control and he knew it. He had to try to settle with that painful reality in order to move forward and enjoy life for what it was.

Now that he had his family back, however, part of him still lived in that reality. He was used to not having them in his life, and so found it unexpectedly easy to be less involved in their business. Deciding not to take on the leading role in Interpol’s mission was the best thing not just for him, but for everyone. It was Spencer’s turn to take that position. In Bruce’s eyes, his eldest nephew had been ready twelve years ago, and he was certain that the life experience he had gained since could only have prepared him further to lead the family through such a challenge. Bruce was ready to be at his side to advise, as he would be to support any of his family, for it had brought him great pain to not be able to be there for them during the split, knowing that they must be hurting. But he wasn’t going to take charge of any business this time. So, he chose to let them get on with it, and maintain a healthy balance of spending time with them and letting them continue on with their day to day lives as they had surely grown used to doing without him.

He knew that Spencer was out on a business trip today, but that was as much as Bruce knew. The details of the mission were no longer his business - only their safety, which he knew he couldn’t control anymore. Instead, he was out doing personal errands, exploring his old home city of London and looking for the ways in which it had changed. New shops and eateries popping up, new urban features in the streets, new murals and traffic systems. Today he was exploring Islington, where he remembered Trevor used to live. It wasn’t for the hope of running into him - just an old familiar borough that he wanted to revisit.

On top of just a trip down memory lane, Bruce had another reason for going out: now that he was retired from the family business, he had all the time in the world to spoil his nephews’ kids, whom he thought of as his grandchildren. He wanted to buy them treats: sweets, toys, new school stationery, books either about or set in London. Some time into the afternoon he found himself exploring a quaint little bookshop in Islington, and had a few books in hand: for Eddie, Bobby Moore’s biography written by Jeff Powell; for Lizzie, The Ruby in the Smoke by Philip Pullman; for Bucky, A Bear called Paddington by Michael Bond; for Charlie, Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf; for Harrison, The BFG by Roald Dahl; and finally, for Lottie, a book that Bruce held close to his heart, for it was one he used to read to Laura after they had lost their parents: A Little Princess by Frances Hudgson Burnett.

It had taken Bruce an hour or so to carefully choose the titles of these books based on what little he had so far learned about the children in his family. But after missing so many years of their formative early life, he wanted to make some kind of an impact. His only mission now before leaving the bookshop, was to find a book printed in French for Raphael. Bruce had been impressed - albeit not surprised - by Raphael’s decision to move with him and Darcey to the UK, but he understood first hand the culture shock of moving to another country, so thought it might help him to know that he can still find books written in his mother tongue. Whether he actually would find a French novel in the little bookshop was another matter, but it had so far proved to be a worthwhile visit, so he persevered.

With a whole basket of books in his hand, Bruce was just on his way to the counter to ask the shopkeeper if they had a foreign language section when he overheard somebody mention Shakespeare. It was impossible not to think about Harper and Billy when William Shakespeare came up in conversation - he had never known anyone as absorbed by his work as those two were, and he had always loved how they had bonded over it. With a soft, sorrowful smile on his face at the thought of his late niece, Bruce couldn’t help but eavesdrop as the two strangers continued to talk behind him.

And that’s when he realised that one of the voices sounded familiar to him. It wasn’t immediately recognisable - as if it had aged, or the intonation was slightly different - but it was familiar enough to prick his ears. He stopped and turned, wondering who from his past he might be about to run into. And then he saw her. A stabbing pain seared through his chest. His stomach dropped like he was on a rollercoaster. It wasn’t the first time this had happened - when the family had first been split up, Bruce thought he kept seeing them all around every corner he turned. Then, when he was informed that Harper had died, he saw her everywhere. Every blonde young woman caught his eye and a fleeting hopefulness snagged at his heart before tearing it open all over again. It hadn’t happened for a while, but now, suddenly…there she was.

Several seconds went by and still Bruce hadn’t grown aware of himself as he stared openly at her. Time hadn’t stopped for anyone else, but it had for him. He couldn’t move. Bruce had always had a strong hold on his emotions - he had lost almost everybody he had ever loved, his entire life had been a tale of loss and trauma, and that, he always explained, was how he had managed to build such control of his emotions. Yet, it seemed that Harper was his weakness. Her suicide attempt had dug up the trauma of losing his wife and two infant children and brought about his first panic attack in his late fifties. Then her death had haunted him. And now, standing before this woman, he found himself struggling to hold himself together. He felt cold and stiff, like a ghost had passed through him, and just fixed his mournful eyes on her. The strangest thing was that she wasn’t even exactly how he remembered her. She was older, her hair had darkened ever so slightly with age, and her style was altogether different. But in her eyes, he could see his girl, alive.

Before he could stop himself, his arm reached out almost of its own accord and he followed it until he was standing before her and the man she was with. “Excuse me…” he heard himself say. “I’m sorry, you…” He didn’t sound like himself. He didn’t feel like himself. Tears pricked at his eyes. For a few seconds he just continued to stare silently at her before finally asking, in a faint voice: “Is it...really you?”

Interactions
Bellz Harper, Dawson
All your babies are getting books from Uncle Bruce Melanin-Gxdess Misty Gray !

 

[Bellz]

Warehouse 0517
(Tactical Training Room)
~ Lower Clapton, London ~

Thomas Porter ​

Thomas looked to Logan and gave him a nod as well in appreciation for the condolences, "Thank you, really." He said sincerely. While the death might not have been recent, it had been news that neither Thomas nor Leo had received until they were all in London together so the grieving process was as fresh as if it just happened. Luckily, this training session seemed like it was going to be relatively easy for him considering that he knew what the majority of this stuff was and how to use it. His answer to Jeremy was brief, it was all he could muster at the moment. Logan seemed to notice and Thomas looked at him for just a moment before looking away. He didn't wear anything on his face to sell his emotions. Just a blank expression. But, his demeanor had changed a bit. He'd been more talkative at the start.

Logan said that he could probably tell them what most of the stuff was but he didn't know how to use it. Knives were something he was great at using which was at least a positive. Thomas liked his spirit. He seemed like someone who could take care of himself when the situation called for it and take care of others to further the point. Given the right training, he had no doubts Logan would make a fine individual in all of this. Whatever the fuck they were calling themselves these days because to Thomas they were no longer gangsters if they were working for the Feds.

Thomas looked to Logan and Leo for a moment and then to Jeremy before speaking, hoping he wasn't speaking out of turn. "Guns and shit tend to handle themselves, to a certain degree. I mean, sure you have to know how to wield a gun and how to shoot it but if you've been in a brawl and used a knife you're one step closer than most people when it comes to shooting a gun. In the States, they were just handing them to us in basic training two weeks in and told us that the guns 'sing for themselves' so to speak."

Thomas smirked ever so slightly at the recollection of what his sergeant had said to him. "Kinda like a woman. God help me so my wife doesn't hear me when I say this. It's all in how you hold her. My old Sergeant's words, not mine by the way." He looked to Jeremy, "I think we start with what we are unfamiliar with, and work our way down, yeah? Get the hard shit out of the way? We are gonna want to dissect all of this so we know it from top to bottom. Especially for Mr. Newbie over here." Thomas finally smiled at Logan. "Guns are different than knives obviously, don't want to end up shooting yourself on accident. Best to learn about all the ways that could happen in a real situation and how to avoid it."
with (in posting order): Jeremy BasDorcha ; Logan Misty Gray
On Standby for Now: Leo Melanin-Gxdess

 

[Bellz]

Between the Lines Bookstore
~ Islington, London ~

Rachel Fitz
Dawson Rogers
x Kids​

Rachel had moved to look at another book, her eyes glancing at Laura and Rosie in the kids' corner. Laura was as content as she was in a place like this, a passion she surprisingly shared with her. Normally the girl was bouncing off the walls but Rosie had managed to keep her seated, reading a book to her, a true miracle. Rachel's mouth curved into a beautiful smile at the sight, her eyes scrunching a bit as she just stared at them for a moment. Dawson was about a foot or two away, his own nose in the front page of a book.

Her life was quiet and she loved the life that she was provided and shared with Riley. But something about being in the city with the kids and Dawson, by her own free will, even just doing another quiet activity was...much different than what she had going on at home sometimes. Rachel felt like she could have watched her baby enjoy herself and her freedom forever if she didn't start to feel like someone else was watching her. Rachel's eyes first looked at Dawson. He was still looking at his book, so her brows scrunched together in light confusion. Lightly, her hands snapped the book she had been looking at closed. There were times when she got weird feelings, sinking feelings that maybe she was being watched...or got deja vú. Maybe she was just getting that feeling now? It was usually followed by a dizzy spell or a headache.

Rachel was going to let Dawson know that maybe she should sit down for a minute when a man's voice interrupted her train of thought. "Excuse me?" He said and Rachel turned to him.

The older man looked...unwell. Like he was seeing something unbelievable before his eyes. There was a great sorrow behind them, like he knew her but she had absolutely no idea who he was. The woman's heart was aching ever so slightly at the sight. Rachel's feet shifted, switching her weight from one foot to the other under the weight of his stare, unsure how to proceed because of how emotional he seemed. But she knew she couldn't be cruel, not that she had the capacity to, she wasn't known for being that way. Her blue eyes stared unwavering, friendly, her face holding the slightest smile as she let him continue to speak.

The poor stranger's eyes just filled with tears, causing her to want to reach out to comfort him. But she held her hands on the book she had in her hand...whatever it was, she couldn't remember now. "Is it really you?" He then asked, in the faintest voice, and Rachel's heart broke at the sound of it and at the words. Did he think she was his daughter? Maybe a Niece? A relative of some sort? The emotion coming from him was making her own eyes water for reasons she couldn't explain, and the blonde had to blink them back a moment before shaking her head, "I-I'm sorry. I wish I was whoever it is you are missing so much in this moment but...I'm not her." Rachel's voice wavered slightly, almost as if she was disappointed to reveal that to him.

"Rachel? Is this guy bothering you?" Dawson suddenly asked, interjecting rather rudely. Rachel's kind smile towards Bruce dropped slightly as she looked to Dawson who was at her side, looking Bruce up and down, giving him a weird look. Rachel elbowed him, to which Dawson doubled over slightly. "Ooof! Jesus Rach!" The blonde rolled her eyes, "Please excuse the American, they don't have manners it would seem. Can you go check on the girls, please? Tell Laura she can pick out two books and only two." Dawson looked at Rachel with a slack jaw, and the blonde gave him a bit of a pointed look before the man sighed, "Two books, got it, but if she comes out with 4 it's not my fault."

Dawson gave Bruce one more look, before looking to Rachel and then turning to head towards the girls in the kids' corner. Rachel turned back to Bruce, offering him another soft smile as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes softening at the sight of him. Her hand reached out to shake his, "My name is Rachel as my friend already spoiled for you, Rachel Fitz."

"Who was she? To you? If you don't mind me asking? You certainly don't have to answer. But perhaps if I can't be the person you are looking for maybe just talking about her will help you."
with: Bruce Pyroclast

 

[Pyroclast]

Between the Lines Bookstore
~ Islington, London ~

Bruce King​

When the woman’s eyes began to water as she gazed back at him, Bruce felt a connection between them so strong it was like he had crossed to another realm, like she had come down from her resting place to meet him for one last time. It was far more real than any of the other times he thought he had seen her. In fact, it was uncanny - she wasn’t the young 24 year old girl she had been, but was now in her mid-thirties, as if she had aged along with him. As if she hadn’t died at all. But why would Interpol have lied to him about such a devastating thing?

With his mind rapidly convincing him that she was the real Harper, and the meaningful look she was giving him, it threw him off entirely when she told him that she wasn’t who he was looking for. “What?” he asked, blinking rapidly with confusion. “But you…a-are you sure?”

They were interrupted when her friend came over to make sure she wasn’t being harassed. Bruce lifted a hand to his head and closed his eyes in an attempt to shake off whatever was coming over him. But when he opened them again, nothing had changed. It was still her. Her long lashes and her soft, round nose that he used to pretend to steal when she was a baby. All the beautiful features she had got from her mother.

So stunned by the woman standing before him, it took a moment for Bruce to catch onto what she saying. She acted so sympathetic, but he didn’t really understand why - he could only hope that once her friend was out of earshot she would finally reveal that she was just keeping up a front and that she did know who he was after all. But then she reached out to shake his hand and explained that her name was Rachel Fitz.

“Rachel…?” Bruce gave her his hand on auto pilot, but he was starting to realise that he was making a fool of himself. His brows knitted together and tears shone in his eyes as he tried to work out what was going on. In a kind, gentle tone of voice, Rachel asked him who the woman was that he had seen in her and offered to listen to him, but he couldn’t seem to form the words. “I…I’m sorry, luv’,” he croaked, still holding onto her hand loosely. “I’m sorry, darlin’. You look…so much like my girl.” Tears began spill from his eyes and he raised a trembling hand to his head. His vision was beginning to grow spotty but he still couldn’t keep his eyes off her. “She was so beautiful. It’s like - it’s like she’s still here.” A moment passed before he realised what he was doing and he suddenly grew embarrassed and let go of her hand. “I-I’m sorry,” he muttered, clearing his throat and looking away. “Forgive me, darlin’, I’m…clearly goin’ senile in my old age.” Though he was still a bit wobbly on his feet, he managed a weak laugh and pinched the tears from his eyes. “Sorry to have disturbed ya’. You go on and have a good…”

Just as he was taking one last look at the woman, one tiny detail jumped out at him that he hadn’t noticed before. “That…sorry, that scar on your head…” His voice grew faint as he peered slightly closer at the dented line that reached up to her hairline. “My girl had one there, right there on her head, after the beam fell…” A sick feeling grew in his stomach and his chest felt like it was constricting tighter by the second. “H-how did you get it?”

Interactions
Bellz "Rachel", Dawson

 

[Bellz]

Warehouse 0517 (Shooting Range)
~ Lower Clapton, London ~

J.J. Porter
Collin McCarthy
​

Collin was glad to see that Lucas was doing alright though the uneasy smile he gave him said otherwise. "Definitely nerve-wracking, I'm sure it'll get less so with more practice time." Collin said to him lightly, wanting to ease his nerves. Lucas went on to say that he supposed it wasn't meant to be fun practice, that anyone who enjoyed shooting people couldn't be all right in the head. Collin nodded his head, none of this was meant to be taken lightly. He and Lucas were doing this for the same reasons. And J.J. was thankfully doing it for the same ones as well. He felt that the three of them would get a lot closer because of it after spending so much time apart. "I don't want to kill anyone, but if it came down to it..." Collin's words dropped off as Lucas turned to look at J.J..

Collin looked to him as well, just watching idly as he thought things over. J.J. seemed nervous like the both of them and dissatisfied with his shots. Collin's eyes then turned to look to Lucas who had nothing but a smile on his face for his cousin, which in turn made Collin smile. There was just something about that smile that was so infectious and lovely. Lucas then clapped for J.J. but Collin didn't follow, instead he just kept looking at Lucas for a few moments longer until he was snapped out of his little moment by him telling J.J. he'd done a nice job. Collin then turned to look at J.J., "Yea! Well done!" Collin said, quickly covering up the way he'd been staring at Lucas with a few words of encouragement to J.J..

J.J. smiled at the guys and nodded his head in gratitude before turning to look at Dermot who answered him saying that the easiness did come with a lot of practice, which he had a lot of. J.J. was serious as he nodded his head once. Dermot went on to say the shake would go away with time and that he would need to become comfortable holding the weapon in his hand. J.J. once again nodded his head, looking to the other two as Dermot went on to address them all. It was all about the control, they all needed it when holding a gun and firing it. They also needed to know how to make quick decisions in times of need, which made both Collin and J.J. a bit nervous. J.J.'s mouth dried slightly listening as Dermot talked about killing another person, Dermot driving home the sooner they realized what they were getting themselves into, the better.

J.J.'s eyes looked to Collin, then to Lucas. He'd been pretty exposed to stuff back in Dublin all those years ago, but given that, his dad was in charge now...it seemed like it was only going to be worse from here on out. J.J. knew what he was getting himself into, as he'd told his mom, he just wanted to help his family and find his place. He would help Lucas and Collin if they struggled and he knew the two would do the same for them. "I've made people become widows." J.J.'s mind went to Matthew for a moment, thinking back to that day in the pizzeria parking lot all those years ago. Jeanie could say what she wanted to about the way their parents were...but J.J. was convinced that on some scale, that was the day they also lost her to some degree. J.J. had nightmares to this day, but with good coping mechanisms he'd been able to learn...he turned out alright. She never recovered. Jane never liked to talk about that day so it was hard to tell how she'd been after. And his mother...well, after the conversation they had to get him here? J.J. shook his head to get the thought of her face out of his mind, focusing back on Dermot and the rest. It might have looked like he was shaking his head at the rest of what Dermot had to say, which would have probably sent J.J. further down a weird self-reflecting spiral - if that's what you wanted to call it...if he was even listening now.

The others looked nervous, but all he felt was guilty. Nervous sure, but the guilt was...a lot.

Collin looked from J.J. who seemed to be wearing a different expression he couldn't place to Lucas, who was standing as tall as ever...but he still looked nervous. Collin...well, he was sinking a little lower with each word Dermot said. Not that he was having any second thoughts. But the gravity of the situation was just...there. And it was heavy, like a ton of bricks crashing down on him. He was sure that feeling would hit him over and over and over again until eventually he became numb to it. Was it better to be numb? Who knew? Rubbing his sweaty palms against his pants, Collin looked to Lucas and J.J. as Dermot told them to go work out with Olivia. He wanted them to think long and hard about it, and be back here at 8 a.m. tomorrow. If they decided they couldn't do it, then they were to stay in bed. Despite the seriousness, Dermot smiled...which Collin didn't expect. He told them they all did pretty well. Collin smiled lightly, feeling pretty proud of himself and it seemed that J.J. had the same expression on his face.

"Hey, don't get soft on us now. Bright and early, 8 a.m. See you then, Dermot." J.J. said before giving the man a nod and turning to head out. Collin looked to Lucas, it looked like all three of them would show up again. Nerves or not, their parents didn't raise quitters.
with: Lucas + Dermot Misty Gray

- End of Scene - ​

 

[Bellz]

Sullivan Residence
~Dublin, Ireland ~
Natasha Sullivan
x Little Monster Sullivans ​

Natasha wasn't so sure she believed that Lauren was "behaving herself" with that overly sweet angelic voice, and that amused smirk. But she wasn't one to judge, especially given how she was when she was younger. "Mmmhmmm, music to this Auntie's ears. Just remember I was your age not that long ago." She gave her a smirk.

The interaction between Conor and her kids was something she had thought years ago would never come...so despite Jaxson being...Jaxson...Nat's eyes burned ever so slightly at the moment. It was a moment she thought Leo would be here for. And yet, he wasn't. He chose to be in London. The woman let out a soft sigh to keep herself together before smiling just a little wider, hoping it didn't fade too much in her thoughts.

Natasha smiled brightly when her father-in-law's eyes lit up at the mention of food. The subject of butt-kicking seemed to be over, much to her relief...or so she thought. Just as she was turning to step towards the dining room with Conor and Lauren, motioning for the kids to follow, Conor said something causing her to scoff lightly and roll her eyes, "Oh brother." Jaxson on the other hand, grinned wickedly, "I'd like to see you try, old man! I like challenges." Lauren then egged him on further with the Veronica comment and he laughed, "That blonde twig! PUH-LEASE!"

Veronica looked offended, "By the time I try to kick your butt most of your brain cells will be gone from all the fighting you do anyway, I might just be able to push you over!"

Jaxson blanched, "Are you calling me stupid?!"

Veronica glared, "No, you're a genius." Her voice held a level of sarcasm that she picked up from both of her parents but Jaxson was...a bit slow to pick it up.

"Stating the obvious."

"Oh my god, you are stupid."

"MAM! She's calling me stupid!"

"Hey! No shouting. Veronica, apologize. Jaxson, apologize for calling your sister a twig. Enough with the butt-kicking talk or I will send you both to your room."

Veronica and Jaxson just looked at each other for a moment, Seana and Wayne were silent, clearly used to this. Veronica sighed, "Fine, sorry Jax." She mumbled. "I'm sorry too." He said back, both sounding reluctant but willing to not go to their rooms.

Natasha turned to Conor who had said something about easily eating everything at the table and she chuckled, "Please, eat it all. I've made way too much and I can make more." She gave him an uneasy smile. Lauren said it all looked delicious and Natasha nodded her head in thanks. "Ah, this is basically what I make for these kids and Leo when he's here. They basically eat me out of the house and home. Shopping twice a week now." She laughed, shaking her head. Lauren mentioned tasting the food for Conor first, saying she was selfless like that. "Now now, no fighting like those two." She pointed to Veronica and Jaxson, her voice teasing. "Eat what you want and what you can't if there's leftovers I'll send home with ya."

She moved to grab the plates, handing them some before handing the kids theirs as well. "I have drinks, whatever you want we got it, soda, water, alcohol. Just tell me what you want and I'll hand it to you. And then we can make our way to the lounge. It's much more comfortable in there. I'll put the kids in the living room so they can...settle down for a moment with a show or something so we can catch up. "
with: Conor Misty Gray ; Lauren neverbackdown

 

[Bellz]

Between the Lines Bookstore
~ Islington, London ~

Rachel Fitz​

Rachel was confused by the emotions this man was displaying. But it wasn't off-putting to her. Dawson probably acted how normal people would. The stranger looks at you with tears in their eyes, of course, you reserve the right to be freaked out. But she was just...trying to piece together why. There were a lot of things in her life that she couldn't piece together, lots of grey areas. Holes in her timeline that she couldn't fill and had no answers to. Riley had given her the blessing of her identity back, her name, her age, even her birthday. But...there was still a piece of who she was, where she came from...who she loved before she loved Riley missing. Laura came from somewhere. But who had she been with before Riley? Was she happy?

Did she have a big family who loved her? These were questions that Rachel felt would never ever be answered...and while she'd been fortunate enough to be given a second chance at life, she felt that she wouldn't ever find the answers she was looking for in it.

So who was she? To leave this man's question of who she was unanswered? Maybe...if she could gently close that door for him. It would help ease whatever pain he felt. Still, it looked as though he didn't believe her as she reached out to shake his hand, introducing herself with her first and last name. Their hands met and Rachel blinked, looking at their hands as they were connected in a grasp.

She was patient as he struggled to answer her question, partially because she understood he must be upset but also because she was trying to figure out why his hand felt so familiar to her. The tugging sense of familiarity made her head cloudy, like when she had a dream about the faces she couldn't see in a "memory" she would explain to her psychologist.

A lump formed in her throat, as the man apologized, saying that she looked like his girl...still staring at her like she was her...still having a hard time believing any different. Rachel was silent as he said she was so beautiful, and that it was like she was still around. He then let go of her hand, clearly looking embarrassed but Rachel had no look of judgment in her gaze. She was just...confused still.

"No," She said, though her voice was a little hoarse, coming out more like a whisper before she cleared her throat. "No, it's okay. You didn't disturb me..." He was getting ready to tell her to have a good day, getting one last look at her but his expression changed. It was a bit unnerving to be stared at so closely, but she didn't move. When he mentioned the scar on her forehead, Rachel's hand went to it immediately, her slender fingers slightly tracing it. Sometimes, she swore it stung to touch...or at the very least was just sensitive.

His next words surprised her, saying that his girl had one there, in the exact same spot. Rachel's hand moved away from her forehead, hand dropping to her chest to rest in the middle as he alluded to a beam falling on her. He didn't look well again and her eyes had a look of concern but she was trying to wrap her head around what he was asking. How did she get it? She...couldn't remember. It was older than the other scars she had. From her accident.

The blonde's brows scrunched slightly, "I uh...I don't remember, I've had it ever since I woke-" She stopped herself, scrunching her nose for saying too much. Was it a coincidence that...this woman had the same scar as her? She had to be dead, right? Or was he thinking differently for a reason? Rachel's eyes looked at the man, staring into his own for a long moment. "But there is a lot I don't remember." She then asked, "May I ask your name?"
with: Bruce Pyroclast

 

[Pyroclast]

Warehouse 0517 (Training Centre)
~ Lower Clapton, London ~

Billy King and Raphael Delon​

Even though Raphael had spent the past 9 or so years of his life with Bruce and Darcey - or Ken and Eleanor as he had known them - he still found that he could more easily understand non-native speakers of English than native speakers. It wasn’t just for the cockney accents, but for the natural fluidity of their speech, the way their words slurred together and certain letters were omitted, the bits of slang dropped into their sentences, cultural references and idioms that made absolutely no sense. So when Hendrik spoke to him, though it was an unfamiliar accent, his English came out somehow clearer to Raphael’s ears. He figured that the man was Dutch, since he had moved from the Netherlands with Billy, but he had never heard a Dutch accent before so he couldn’t be completely sure. Whatever it was, it sounded like music.

He was just anticipating Hendrik’s answer to his question about what they would be working on during the session, eagerly waiting to hear more of his accent, when their attention was grabbed by the sound of the door opening. He turned to see another man come in, one he was less familiar with. Yet another accent - this one he recognised as New York. Raphael couldn’t help but notice that though the man seemed to be speaking to the room, he had his eyes locked on Billy the whole time. Billy was equally looking back at him, and it created an odd atmosphere in the room, like Raphael and Hendrik perhaps should be elsewhere.

Eventually the New Yorker did acknowledge him and Raphael sent him a smile. “Nice to meet you, Erik. I’m Raphael.” With all these men roughly his age or older, Raphael got an idea that their workout sessions could become the start of a nice friendship group if all went well - the kind he knew Bruce and Darcey were hoping he would find.

Meanwhile, Billy was busy trying to convince himself that working out alongside Erik was a totally normal, inconsequential and easy thing to do. That the look they had exchanged meant nothing. That he wasn’t in the slightest bit self-conscious about sweating or flexing his muscles in front of him, that he wasn’t regretting wearing a tank top and shorts instead of a more modest tracksuit. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his body - in fact he was happy with the shape he was in - it was more that he was sure he would become distracted if he remained aware Erik could be watching him work out, and equally if he caught sight of Erik working out, too.

However, Billy had trained with Hendrik for a few years now and knew that if he didn’t do his best then his boyfriend might pick up that something was off. He had to just pretend that Erik was just another gym-goer, and nothing else. Which was, frankly, ridiculous.

It only became more ridiculous when they got started with the warm ups. The high knee jogging was easy for Billy, as were the squats, but though he kept his eyes fixed forward and away from Erik, he couldn’t help but picture in his head what he looked like doing the moves. Once the three men were successfully warmed up, he couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at him before fixing his attention back onto Hendrik. He was listening as best he could, but in his mind’s eye all he could see was the shine on Erik’s radiant skin and the veins in his muscular arms.

“Okay,” Raphael panted, glancing over at the weights as he gave one last stretch of his arms and legs. He always found weight training to be satisfying and rewarding but he had never actually had a trainer before. The thought of such an attractive man giving him attention as he worked out made him a little excited, but also nervous - especially since Hendrik’s boyfriend was also training with him. The last thing he wanted to do was get on Billy's bad side - he didn't know if the man was the aggressive type, but he could see well enough that he was heavily built. It was just hard to keep his eyes off Hendrik - he couldn't help but steal a glance at him whenever he wasn't looking. “Alors, what part of the body do we focus on today?” he asked. A genuine question, but also an attempt to get Hendrik to talk to him in that alluring accent of his.

Interactions
Misty Gray Hendrik
Melanin-Gxdess Erik

 

[Pyroclast]

Between the Lines Bookstore
~ Islington, London ~

Bruce King​

When Rachel mentioned that she didn’t remember how she had got her scar, and then that there was a lot she didn’t remember, Bruce almost felt like he was dreaming. It seemed like too big a coincidence to be happening in real life. He almost wanted to find something about her that could completely disprove it so that he could know for sure that it was nothing. But looking at her, identical in the face, the right age, the same scars…and now the fact that she didn’t remember? It was becoming clear to him that she was the same woman. His little girl.

“It’s…it’s Bruce,” he told her, almost struggling to speak for the thick lump in his throat. “Bruce King. I’m sorry -” By now his whole body had grown tense and he couldn’t stop a few more tears from falling down his face. “I…My niece went missing a few years ago, after a tragic accident. They never found her, and I…you know, you have to hold on to hope. I adopted her and her brothers when she was a baby, so she’s like my daughter. I…I can’t give up. I see her everywhere I go. But you…it’s like she’s standin’ right in front of me.” He couldn’t help but look at the woman before him, taking in every detail he could see. And that’s when he noticed the tip of a deep, vertical scar on her wrist, just poking out from beneath her sleeve. A flashback of Harper’s lifeless body being carried out of her apartment on a stretcher suddenly struck him. The trail of blood left in its wake. The hospital waiting room, his son, his daughter, his niece…

The room seemed to tilt and he reached out his arm to steady himself against the bookshelf, dropping all of his books on the floor in the process. “I’m sorry, luv’, I…I’m all…”

When he next opened his eyes he was on the ground, slouched against one of the shelves. His whole body was tingling and hot, he felt weak and nauseous and most of all, embarrassed. He fumbled to loosen his collar but otherwise didn’t dare move. His chest was tight such that it hurt to breathe. “Sorry, Harper,” he muttered, struggling to focus his eyes. He had to just assume she was still there.

Interactions
Bellz Rachel, Dawson

 

[Bellz]

Between the Lines Bookstore
~ Islington, London ~

Rachel Fitz
Dawson Rogers
x Kids​

Rachel was sure that she wouldn't get a name from the man. Not that he was too skeptical to give her one, but because he seemed out of sorts. But he surprised her by giving her one. "Bruce King." She repeated as if solidifying the name to memory by speaking it out loud. It wasn't like they were going to run into one another again after this. Rachel was being polite. Hey, life had a funny way of surprising her these days. Who knew? She tried to remember as many names as she could considering she couldn't remember much else. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Bruce." She murmured again, meaning it just as she had before. He apologized again and Rachel just shook her head silently, there was no reason for the apologies. He then went on to explain that his niece went missing a few years ago in a tragic accident.

Her attention had already been on this man, who seemed broken by the loss he felt, severely so. But as he explained the situation, the reason why he was so emotional...she found herself more undivided and attentive to him. Her brows furrowing together as he said that they never found the woman, that he was still holding out hope...so she wasn't dead? No closure.

Confusion was the first thing she felt over all of it. Yet, there was a great deal of curiosity to know more. It was none of her business. To hear Bruce say that he couldn't give up, that he saw her everywhere he went...it broke her heart. To have someone he loved so much and see them in others. Rachel wondered what that was like. There wasn't any envy in her heart for him because with such a great deal of love, came a great deal of loss. It all came at such a high price. The sad part was, that Bruce thought that he was seeing his niece in her.

Rachel entertained that thought for just a moment. Wouldn't that be wonderful? To be the person he was looking for, and him the person she was looking for. He was looking for his niece and she was looking for her family. Life surprised her sure, but that stuff only happened in books...like the ones on the shelves around them. Rachel was at a loss for words, unsure of what to say to him...how to comfort him when really...there wasn't any comforting him. Before her brain could catch up with the moment, the man tilted towards the bookshelf -- reaching onto it to steady himself as his books fell to the floor.

"Hey!" She gasped out, reaching to catch his arm. Her own book she had in her arm falling to the ground as she caught Bruce's arm but not quick enough to help him from falling to the ground. Bruce didn't fall too hard. She was too small to support his weight and instantly felt horrible for not being quicker or stronger."Bruce, hey, you okay?" The panic was evident in her voice, the concern growing in her eyes as the man didn't move besides loosening his collar. Rachel turned to look at Dawson who kept an eye on her. He rushed over to them both. "What the hell-?" He started to ask but paused as Rachel was waving her hands at him to get help or to call for it, "Call for an ambulance!" She said, tears pricking at her eyes. Rosie and Laura caught her eyes as they were right next to Dawson.

She looked up to Dawson who nodded, "Come on girls, let's go get some help." He said, turning to usher the girls away from the scene, picking up tiny Laura in his arms as she reached out for her mother. "Laura, I'll be there soon. Be good for Dawson!" Rachel said to her daughter, watching as Dawson towed the girls away. She turned back to Bruce, who looked to be having a hard time breathing. That made two of them as she heaved in a huge breath. Sorry, Harper. He said to her, causing her brows to furrow again.

While others might have corrected the confused man...Rachel didn't. Not when she wasn't sure if he was going to die or not. He looked okay, but she wasn't a doctor. So instead, she took his hand trying to steel her nerves for a difficult moment as her eyes burned. Rachel blinked back any anxiety or distress saying, "It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay, alright? No dyin' on me. We are going to get you some help." Rachel's voice was thick as she looked around them for a moment. People were staring and crowding but she tried not to pay them any mind. "Are you able to take a deep breath at all? Or short breaths even? Sometimes short breaths help me even when I can't get a deeper one in." Rachel demonstrated by taking a few short ones through her nose and out through her mouth to try and help him along, all the while her eyes just searching for any sign that he might pass out on her.

"I know it must hurt to lose someone like her. But...it's beautiful that you can see her in others. Even if it's hard sometimes. If she's out there I doubt she'd want you to go anywhere before her, right?" She tried to laugh, the sound coming out as strangled as the air felt in her chest. "Heck, I hardly know you but I don't want you to go anywhere. So...just...ya know...don't." Rachel said, blinking back more tears as she sucked in a breath.
With: Bruce Pyroclast

 

[BasDorcha]

Brook's Home

London​

​

Kathleen Thatcher

Watching Trevor gave her a happy warmth in her chest, unexplainable as it was though it grew by the second. Seeing him again was something she never thought she'd have closure over. When he left, it had been as quickly as he had come, a few short words and he disappeared into the dark night never to be seen again. It was a few weeks later that she realized what he had left with her - an unexpected proof of their time together that now was the reason she found herself in London trying to make amends. In an unforeseeable twist though, Maeve had caught all the blame that Trevor was used to getting himself. She had always known he would leave, so when Maeve came along to remind her that she had not been the one to keep him happy enough to stay, she hated her daughter in her drug induced stupor. For years she blamed her, unrelenting when her husband had left her because he found out. No, it had gotten worse. What a terrible mother she had been.

Hearing that Maeve had a half-sister that died took the smile right off her face. It dropped immediately and she frowned, giving him a pitying look. It was hard to lose a child and know they were still alive, it must be something else to lose one and not be able to ever speak to them again. "I'm sorry to hear about your daughter. I bet she was something else." She said, reaching over to pat his hand lightly, unintentionally lingering a few moments before withdrawing. Hearing about Christian, Kathleen found herself already forming a distaste in her mouth for him. A sour taste that made her scrunch her face. Listening to him, she leaned on her arm of the chair, face propped on her palm, giving him her full attention. "Well, I don't get room to say anything at this point, but if she's unhappy, she should change something. If that means being a single mother, I'm sure she's strong enough to handle it. Open herself up to a new romance that will be the one to sweep her away, she deserves the best happiness." And she meant it, the look in her eyes validating that.

She nodded when he warned her to be prepared for the rejection Maeve was likely to give her. She hoped it wouldn't happen, but mentally she was already setting herself up for it. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, that's what she learned in the program that got her clean. If she was prepared for the worst, it wouldn't send her into such a spiral to be caught unaware. Happy to move past the subject onto the photos, she again eyed him carefully, watching as he went through them. A laugh passed her lips at his comment about them being young and good looking. "Why, yes sir, we sure did. Hell, I still look pretty damn good, if I say so myself." The laugh that followed was full of mirth and filled the empty room, rushing out the coldness of it. "You weren't rotten on the inside, just young and dumb. If you were truly rotten, you'd still be rotten, rotten doesn't get better. You were… Like a fine wine. Bitter at first, but you aged quite well and sweetened with time." She gave him a smile, reassuring him that she meant what she said.

"I couldn't rip them up. It may not have been the fantasy dream most girls have of their first love, but I have always looked back fondly on that time. I always knew what I was getting myself into and had no delusions about it, when you fall for a bad boy, you gotta accept that they might not be around forever." She looked past him at the photos of them scattered on the table before them. "No, everyone warned me, I just chose not to listen, and I have to own that myself. I made a lot of lives miserable. You weren't alone, we were just peas in a pod so to speak. You don't get the blame for me deciding to make that choice. No more than Maeve deserved it." Looking back to his eyes, she gave him a soft, endearing look, something unspoked and welcoming in the glance. "We're not dead yet, we can still make up for our mistakes. Be better people, make the world better, all that nonsense. At the very least, we can shed the past and learn from it, can't we?" Sitting back, she looked at the time, surprised by how much had passed. "I've kept you much longer than I should have, I'm so sorry. It's just been so nice talking to someone who isn't either my boss, my coworker, or someone angry with me."

 

[Misty Gray]

Warehouse 0517 (Training Centre)
~ Lower Clapton, London ~

Hendrik Janssen​

As they'd warmed up, Hendrik couldn't help but notice something felt off with Billy. He didn't seem to have the usual focus he'd have during their workouts. Then when he caught sight of his boyfriend glancing to Erik, he couldn't help but wonder if he was the reason why. Of course, he wasn't a suspicious man and so all he could put it down to was the awkward situation. Billy hadn't seen his ex in 12 years and now they were suddenly working out together. That seemed like enough reason for anyone to be ill at ease. Not just for the sessions, but for the mission as a whole, he knew Billy was going to have to learn to work alongside Erik. Billy was with Hendrik now and he believed any feelings for Erik were long gone, so it didn't need to be difficult for two grown men to work alongside each other.

Hendrik's attention was drawn to Raphael as the man spoke up. The Dutchman looked to the Frenchman as he asked what part of the body they were going to focus on today. "Today we will focus on the core and upper body strength, but I want to get an idea of your strength all over," he confirmed. He knew he couldn't put all of his focus on Billy in the group session. Of the other two, Erik looked like he would need the least direct attention for the time-being. Against his better judgement, Hendrik decided to help Raphael directly in the first instance. "Billy, use the barbells. Bench presses, deadlifts and squats. You know the weight for you to work with..." he trailed off as he looked at Erik. "Erik, are you able to do the same?" he asked, gauging if he needed any guidance.

Hendrik soon put his focus onto Raphael, directing him to the barbells and round cast iron weight plates. "Do you know how heavy you can lift?" he asked him as he began adding weights onto the bars regardless. After listening to Raphael and making an informed decision himself, he placed the barbell on the floor at Raphael's feel. "Bend your knees, arms straight, grip the bar, stand straight, and then back down," he said as he demonstrated lifting the weights. "Try it and tell me if you need it heavier," he told him, not giving the option to go lighter without Raphael giving it a good attempt first. "I want you to aim for 15 reps and tell me how it feels," he told him. More than anything, Hendrik wanted to make sure Raphael was adopting the correct posture at first, so as to avoid injury or strains. If Raphael did adopt any bad posture or practice, Hendrik would use his hands to physically correct whichever part of his body Raphael needed to correct the position of.

Hendrik made sure to keep glancing to Billy and Erik to check on their progress, but for the moment he wanted to get a feel for how much training Raphael had done before. "How do your legs and glutes feel?" he asked him, placing his hands on his own buttocks to indicate where he meant. "Ready for some bench presses?" he asked, an motivating smile on his face.

Pyroclast (Billy, Raphael)

 

[BasDorcha]

Warehouse 0517

~ Lower Clapton, London ~​

Jeremy Gray

Jeremy was a lot of things and at one point oblivious would have been on the top of the list but these days he was a lot more aware of things going on around him. He watched as Thomas struggled with the wave of emotions that hit him at Jeremy's words, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the dog standing to move, but not quite stepping forward. Letting the tension hold until they made the move, he remained a silent steady figure before them, hands clasped together in patience. He nodded when Thomas finally spoke, thanking him for his words. He nodded again to indicate that she had in fact been kind to him. Lucy had been kind to everyone, that's just the way everyone saw her in his experience. Jeremy watched as Thomas seemed to drift to a different place, though he did reply about being familiar with most of the equipment before him.

Logan's look of confusion soon cleared as he realized what was happening around them. Logan would never have known Lucy, and certainly would have been cause to be lost to the awkwardness that was going on between the rest of the group. His quiet words of condolence was a gentle breaker to the tension in the room, and Jeremy caught his eyes long enough to give him a thankful smile for not prying before his attention returned to the table of guns and tactical gear before them. Logan stepped forward and looked everything over, talking about the things he knew and didn't know. Jeremy watched carefully, taking in everything they had to say to ensure he caught all of it. He wanted them to know that while he was here in a leadership position, he counted all of them as equals - even if they didn't see it that way. This whole thing, this whole new mission critical they had been sent out on, relied on them pulling their weight as much as his counterparts.

No, he wanted everyone possible to make it out of this alive, and while they might just see him as some condescending hardass, he would do what needed to be done in order to keep everyone living and breathing till the end. They could hate him as long as it kept them around for their families. He knew how dangerous working with Interpol could be, and for a moment his mind flipped over to Harper for the hundredth time that day. He missed her so much, he knew she would be the perfect person for this, not him. Still, he would do his best, for her, for all of them.

Jeremy couldn't help the very small smile he got watching Thomas help sooth things over between the group and step up to help him find his footing. He obviously had the experience someone in this position really should have, and was grateful for the hand in finding their way forward with the least amount of friction. Waving his hand over the table, he invited them to pick up one of the items and to start with. "Let's get started then. Everyone grab one of these bad boys here." Jeremy picked up one of 4 duplicate weapons, each weapon on the table a matching set, and held it properly in front of him. "This is the M4 Carbine. The M4/M4A1 5.56mm Carbine is a lightweight, gas operated, air cooled, magazine fed, selective rate, shoulder fired weapon with a collapsible stock. It's one of the most common guns used in military and military style tactics. It looks intimidating but it's one of the best for close quarters combat, allowing for improved handling as well as the capability to rapidly and accurately engage targets at extended range, day or night."

Hoping to give Thomas something to focus on that would pull him back to a level state, he handed his over to Thomas and picked up another one. "Can you help me show them how to break one of these down and put it back together?" He gave him a small smile, his eyes still showing empathy as he understood how badly he was hurting at the moment and hoped that, like him, work would be a good way to numb himself and focus on the present even when you so badly wanted to wallow in the past. Handing his second selection to Logan and a third to Leo until they all had a matching weapon in their hands. "Let's begin."

 

[Misty Gray]

Kathleen's Flat
~ Hackney, London ~

Trevor Stewart​

As Kathleen spoke about how May should change things if she was unhappy, Trevor couldn't help the subtle smirk that appeared. It wasn't that he found the situation amusing, but more that Kathleen was basically saying what he'd already suggested May should do. "Well, I already gave her my opinion and that was that she should consider getting a divorce. Would be better all round; for her, the kids, and Christian." Of course, Trevor would benefit from it too - the less time he had to spend around Christian, the better. The guy was honest and committed to his job, but that verged on the man getting too close to the truth, which was the last thing Trevor needed given what his undercover work with Interpol.

Trevor was glad to hear Kathleen didn't hold ill feelings towards him for his past behaviour and that she took ownership in her part in it. As reassuring as it was, he didn't think he could apply it to his many other mistakes. If she'd spent longer with him back then, perhaps she'd have more reason to hate and blame him too. He spent over 13 years in Laura's life, where he was aware he'd earned hers and the Kings' disdain towards him. "Well, I'm just grateful we can both move on and address things more proactively now," he told her. When she pointed out that they still had time to make up for their mistakes, Trevor let out a deep sigh, still believing he had a lot to make up for. "Oh, absolutely. I think I've nailed been a better person now, but I'm doing what I can to make this world better. By being there for the kids who will let me be, and the grandkids whose lives I can be a part of."

Of course, it wasn't just his family and his influence in their lives he was trying to be better with. His motivation to risk his own life to work undercover for Interpol was the greatest way he felt he could make up for all of the selfish, cowardly things he'd done in the past. Everything he was doing was in hopes of making life better for his family, including Philip's bunch.

When Kathleen gave him the opportunity to leave, Trevor looked at his watch and nodded in agreement. "It's not that you've taken up my time, but I really should head home. I need to give the youngest a call else I'll have his mother bitching down the phone at me," he remarked, but he wasn't joking. Anne-Marie took every opportunity to highlight the times he let his son down. "You take care of yourself, love." When he got up from his seat, he stopped in his tracks to give her his mobile phone number in case she needed anything. Given that he was going to have to distance himself from his family starting from the next few days, he thought he'd appreciate having someone in his personal life to talk to who the Carters would consider neutral.

BasDorcha (Kathleen)

 

[neverbackdown]

The Coffee Mug
~Bethnal Green, London~

Ryan Browne
​

Ryan smirked as he watched her skintone change with her embarrassment but the smirk only grew as she suggested he joined in with her. Raising an eyebrow curiously, Ryan reached out and took the compact sliding it towards him before opening it carefully to reveal the baggie. An amused expression took over his features before he picked up the small baggie "I can't let you have all the fun now" he joked as he opened the baggie under the table, tilting it slightly to get some on his hand before sniffing it as inconspicuously as he could.

As he put the baggie bag in the compact and slid it back towards her, Ryan let out a small laugh at her next question before giving a small shrug "a strange woman now i don't know" he teased "but a beautiful woman like yourself, well I guess I would be a gentleman and keep her company" a charming smile played on his features as he leaned forward towards resting his arms on the table between them.

Ryan was both shocked and greatly amused in the turn that this day had taken and he knew himself opportunities like this don't come this often and as he looked over the girl in front of him he knew he wasn't opposed tonight night ending much like last nights. Leaning back into his chair in a relaxed manner he looked towards her with a curious look in his eyes "Well, how do you propose we escape reality m'dear?" he grinned "I've always loved a mindless adventure so count me in".

He looked around at the street they were on before his eyes landed on the coffee and tea in front of them. "However, i do think if we are to stay on the buzz, maybe a harder drink would be more suitable". He looked towards the compact before a knowing smile played on his lips as he looked back up towards her. "How about we find somewhere more suited to your desires?"

BasDorcha

 

[Pyroclast]

Daisy's Cocktail Bar and Nightclub
~ Soho, London ~

Syd Porter & Dion​

Dion had to laugh when Daisy told them to send their boss to her. “That’s cute. You’re cute.” Julia then stood up and began to threaten her, and Dion sipped on his cocktail as he watched. When his partner turned on that dark, intimidating charisma of hers, her eyes like daggers cutting through Daisy’s tough facade, that was when he found her most attractive. It suited her - her eyes still held all their beauty even after seeing so much death. He almost choked on his drink when Daisy quipped back at her with a ‘news flash’, and when he exchanged a look with Julia his eyes were brimming with stifled amusement.

Julia twisted Daisy’s arm behind her back, even showing her a knife to remind her not to fight back. The young woman had been acting cocky with them and while it wasn’t exactly a good idea to beat her into submission in a public place, Dion and Julia were not there to waste time. If she didn’t take Julia’s word seriously, he wasn’t afraid to take action.

Daisy finally relented and, once her arm was released, returned to her stool. “What are you doin’ sittin’ down?” Dion challenged her, placing his drink on the bar. “Go get us the money.” He stood up and looked down at her. “You know, you can give me the doe eyes all you want, kid, but if you don’t hand over what you owe, I’ll rip ‘em out your fuckin’ skull.”

It wasn’t until he followed Daisy’s gaze that Dion realised they had been approached by two men, one of whom held a German Shepherd on a lead. He turned around to face them, and looked them up and down. They looked odd next to each other, he thought. They were dressed totally differently; the one with the dog had dark, styled hair and wore a sharp designer suit, while the other had more of a rugged look, with longer dark blonde hair and a beard, and had more of a street style about him.

The bearded one asked Dion what the problem was and what they were after, to which Dion straightened up and looked the man directly in the eyes. He seemed to know Daisy, at least by name. “I don’t mean to be rude,” he said. “But our business is with her, not you. So why don’t you go stand over there and wait your turn?”

Syd was hardly listening. He had no idea who the man harassing Daisy was, but his partner was familiar. Someone from his past. His eyes bore into her as he tried to remember who she was. Before he could work it out, Dion stepped closer to him and said, “Why’d you bring your dog to a club?”

Syd’s focus switched from the woman momentarily and instead fixed a steady glare onto him. Of course he wasn’t going to tell anyone why he had a dog with him. He didn’t dress Penny in anything that might suggest she was a service animal. He couldn’t afford to do anything more to spoil his reputation.

“She there to make you look tough?” Dion teased drily. It was times like this that Syd wished Penny possessed an aggressive side; instead, she just looked up at Syd with her tongue hanging out and a sweet look in her eyes. Still, he didn’t care what this man thought of him. He sent him a look of disdain before turning his attention to Daisy. She looked uncomfortable, but he was impressed by how strongly she stood given that she was being ganged up on.

“What are they asking for, Daisy?” Syd asked her. He knew what a shakedown looked like, and he knew that if the two returned to Ezekiel without the money then it could get Daisy in even more trouble. But if she didn’t have what they wanted, then he was willing to give it to them on her behalf to keep them off her back.

Interactions
Misty Gray Daisy, Spencer
Bellz Julia

 

[Misty Gray]

Daisy's Cocktail Bar & Nightclub
~ Soho, London ~

Spencer King and Daisy Richardson​

Dion telling Spencer to step away and wait his turn drew an amused smirk out of Spencer. Considering he was using today as more of an observational opportunity, to gauge the Carters hold in the city and get himself up to speed, now wasn't a time to let confrontations escalate. The Spencer of the past wouldn't have taken kindly to the way Dion was addressing him, but he was now more controlled and calculated, so he remained naturally calm, with no signs of his usual aggression. Regardless, he stood his ground and didn't budge from his spot despite Dion's words to him.

Spencer glanced to Syd as he was then addressed, with Dion questioning the presence of his dog. The Irishman was as in control as Spencer was, not giving in to the teasing and instead making an effort to resolve the situation surrounding Daisy.

"They're here for money," Daisy answered Syd. Knowing who Spencer was and knowing full well who the Carter duo were, she expected tensions between the two pairs. Whilst she felt uncomfortable around all four of them in that moment, the fact Spencer was Jakob's cousin gave her some reassurance that he and Syd were technically on her side. "Their boss sent them," she added, expecting they knew who Ezekiel was but knowing better than to link the man to such arrangements so openly.

Spencer knew the drill all too well and he was certain Syd would too. The Sullivans and the Kings had been in this game longer than the Carters, and at some point in time, they had been more likely the ones collecting money from other businesses operating in their cities. As far as Spencer was concerned, the Carters' control over London was temporary and their days were numbered. But for now, he wasn't there to make waves and jump into things all guns blazing. Seeing he and Syd were on the same page, Spencer turned to Daisy. "Do you have what they're asking for?" he asked her. When she confirmed she did, Spencer stepped aside to give her some space to pass him. "Go get it for them," he told her. Though his voice was firm, he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring nod.

Daisy had been quick to get to her office and retrieve the cash, quickly counting it again before sealing it back in the brown envelope. Deep down she'd known from the start she'd hand over the cash, but part of her hadn't wanted to make it easy. The Carters had already killed her brother and the last thing she wanted was to make them think she was now a pushover. She had to stand up for herself as much as she could. Keeping her head held high, she returned to the group and said nothing as she handed the envelope to Dion. Although she expected this was the end of the altercation now, she still appreciated Spencer placing himself firmly at her side.

Spencer had been about to tell Dion and Julia to go away but instead caught sight of two police men approaching them. He knew Daisy wouldn't have had time at all to make a call, let alone the cops show up instantly. He glanced to the barman who quickly shook his head to confirm he hadn't called them either. "Pigs are here," he informed the group, in case any of them hadn't noticed and wished to continue causing problems. "We're done here," Spencer told Dion and Julia, hinting for them to leave.

There wasn't time to question why the police were present, nor to bother making it look like they hadn't just interrupted a hostile interruption. Instead, one of the officers addressed Daisy directly and made it clear they were there for a completely different reason. "Miss Richardson, would you be able to accompany us to the station? I'm sorry to say there's been a development on your brother's disappearance," he began to inform her. Having witnessed her brother being killed with her own eyes, she already knew that if they'd found him, he was dead. Since Justin's girlfriend had reported him missing, Daisy had found herself having to lie to Christian as he took over the investigation. The Detective knew of Justin's involvement with the Carters and so she was sure that he suspected they could be linked to his disappearance. Despite his persistence, she'd managed not to break and had been able to go along with the idea that he was simply missing.

"Just tell me what it is!" Daisy abruptly replied, not caring if the others were present.

"A body was found this morning and we believe it's that of Justin Richardson," the officer informed her. "We need you to come iden--"

Whilst Spencer didn't have reason to doubt Daisy's ability to act, he had already been made aware by Interpol that Justin had been killed in front of Daisy and the Stewart brothers. To make it easier for Daisy to act surprised, he was quick to wrap an arm around her and pulled her in to him so she didn't have to face the cops. He glared back at the officers. "You need to pipe down a minute! Telling her this in the middle of a club and rushing her to the station? Have some manners." Although he realised the tears coming from Daisy were genuine, he still didn't want them to have any room to question that she may have already known the truth and had withheld evidence. Besides which, he didn't want her to have to identify Justin's body without support from Jakob or someone else she was close to.

Pyroclast (Syd, Dion) Bellz (Julia)

 

[Pyroclast]

Monday 3rd October 1997
...3 days later...

Bruce's House
~ Bethnal Green, London ~

Bruce & Billy King​

It was strange being back in his old house. In a way, Bruce would almost have preferred to have had to start afresh. Coming back to somewhere so familiar after 12 years tempted him to believe that things could just go back to how they were, yet Bruce knew that was far from true. This was a house that his four children had lived in, but even though they had all grown up and left before the split, it was still filled with their memories. They still each had their old bedrooms there, though they had been cleared out after the split by Interpol. However, even without their possessions lying around, he felt their presence, like they might wander through the door at any moment. And they could, if they wanted to. Except for Harper.

That was what Bruce had invited his nephews over to talk about. He was sure they would all think he was crazy, but his encounter with Rachel Fitz had disturbed him so much that he felt the need to tell them about it. If he could have at all convinced himself that the woman he had seen wasn’t his niece, then he would have just kept it to himself and tried to move on, but there was too much evidence. Her facial features, her age, her scars, which were all identical to the ones Harper had. It was just too much to be a coincidence.

Once they had all arrived and were sitting in his lounge, all with cups of coffee and tea in hand, Bruce took a seat in the big armchair and sat up straight to talk to them.

“Lads, I’m afraid I didn’t just call you over for a catch up,” he admitted, glancing down into his cup of tea. “There’s actually, uh…somethin’ I wanted to tell ya’.” His expression had fallen deathly serious. He had wrestled with himself over whether or not to tell them for fear that they wouldn’t believe him, and would grow concerned for his well-being. After all, he was getting older, and they hadn’t seen him for 12 years - for all they knew, he could have an illness they didn’t know about that compromised his perception of reality. But, though he had to acknowledge the shock that seeing Harper had given him, he still felt like he had his head screwed on.

Bruce sighed and raised his head, but he could still barely bring himself to look at the three men. “Somethin’ happened recently, when I was out. And it…it might be hard to hear. You have to know, I wouldn’t be tellin’ ya’ this if I thought for one second that it wasn’t true - this ain’t the kind of thing to throw up into the air - but I’ve been thinkin’ about it ever since and I just can’t let it go.”

“Bruce?” Billy asked, leaning forward slightly. “What’s this about? You’re kinda scarin’ me -”

“I found your sister.” Bruce’s eyes finally flicked up to look at his three nephews. Then he added, in a smaller voice, “I found Harper.”

Billy blanched. He set his cup of tea down on the side table and leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs, passing his hands over his mouth. Harper would be nothing more than a skeleton by now, if her remains had somehow been recovered. For some reason that image had never crossed his mind until now. It was a sickening thought. “But…I-I thought the search ended. Years ago. How did they…” he frowned, and looked back up at his uncle. “Wait, you say you found her?”

“Alive,” Bruce clarified, a slight tremble in his voice. “I found her alive. She’s alive.”

Interactions
Misty Gray Spencer
Melanin-Gxdess Alex
Bellz Harper (mentioned throughout!)

 

[Misty Gray]

Bruce's House
~ Bethnal Green, London ~

Spencer King​

Since returning to London, Spencer had been catching up around the city. Whether that was scoping out the new places that had appeared since 1985 or revisiting those he'd been to many times when he was younger. With everything he had to get up to speed on, he hadn't yet been to Bruce's house since returning to London. So when his uncle invited him and his brothers over, he didn't overthink it, figuring the man just wanted a catch up.

Entering the house that he'd spent the remainder of his childhood in since his mother's death brought back old memories. Despite the positive recollections his uncle's place triggered, Spencer was quick to force them to the back of his mind. After 12 years of practice in forcing himself to lock away the emotions relating to his family, both living and dead, it came more easily now to keep his feelings shut off. Not that he didn't appreciate being able to sit with his brothers and uncle, but he was now reluctant to open himself up to the heartache that would come if they were once again forced to be apart. He now had back what he'd wanted since the day he stepped foot in Fort William, yet he didn't feel like he could fully embrace any of it yet.

As he sat in the lounge, tea in hand, Spencer eyed his uncle as the older man took his seat across from the three brothers. When Bruce said he hadn't invited them round for a catch up, Spencer wasn't even shocked. He was by now used to things rarely being straightforward. He just had to wonder what the problem was now, especially considering Bruce had stepped down from the King businesses and the mission at hand. Judging by the older man's expression, it was clearly a serious matter, whatever it was.

As Bruce built up what it was he was going to tell them, Billy urged him to say what it was about, clearly concerned by their uncle's words. Spencer had been sitting forward in anticipation, but when Bruce suddenly revealed he'd found Harper, he set his mug down on the coffee table and slumped back in his seat. Spencer was unable to stop the sigh that naturally left his mouth as he processed what his uncle had just told them. Perhaps it was because he'd only recently had to tell Jeremy to let go of Harper and accept she was dead, but Spencer naturally figured Bruce meant he'd found Harper alive. Billy's thought process followed a different path at first, until he caught on to what Bruce was saying.

With a tremble in his voice, Bruce confirmed he'd found her alive. Or at least, that he believed he had. Spencer massaged is forehead as he tried work out why his uncle would think such a thing. For all of his life, he's known Bruce to be a realistic and level-headed man. But now there had been 12 years of his uncle's life he'd missed. And after one of the first things Bruce did upon returning to London was step down from leading the family business, Spencer had to wonder if there was more to it than he first thought. Did he need to be concerned abut his uncle?

"What do you mean you found her alive? That don't make sense, Bruce," Spencer told him as he sat forward again. "If you'd found her alive, then why isn't she in this room with us right now? We've all got to let her go. It hurts that we're all finally back together without Harper... but she's gone and she has been for years," he told them. With all of the responsibilities on his shoulders and having to adjust to being home again, Spencer knew he couldn't afford to get trapped in his grief. He hadn't let Jeremy drag him into his false hopes a couple of weeks ago and he couldn't let it happen now either.

 

[Pyroclast]

Bruce's House
~ Bethnal Green, London ~

Bruce & Billy King​

Bruce had always been able to keep a level head, had always been able to think things through rationally without ever losing his mind. He had had to learn how, ever since he was a young child living away from his parents with a little sister to protect. He trusted his own judgement because he was able to check his own biases, think critically and make sure his decisions were well justified. It was part of what made him a strong leader. However, despite this trait helping him to build trust and confidence in those around him, he didn’t doubt that his nephews would find his current news hard to believe.

So he didn’t take it personally when Spencer told him it didn’t make sense, and that he had to let her go as the rest of them had been trying to do. Bruce maintained an unwavering gaze on the three men, another skill he had forced himself to learn for the purposes of difficult conversations and confrontations. He could never afford to appear weak or unsure of himself. Strong eye contact had been essential both as a father figure and also the leader of a criminal business, and at that moment, convincing his closest family members of something almost unbelievable, he had to employ all of those skills. He wouldn’t blame them if they thought he had lost it, but he just couldn’t let that happen.

“Spencer’s right, Bruce,” Billy said gently, looking across the room at him with a darkness in his eyes. “Look, I’ve seen Harper more times than I care to count. I kept thinkin’ I saw all of you after the split, just in the street or in the supermarket or whatever. But it was always just strangers, Bruce.” Billy glanced across at Spencer, picking up on his discomfort. He hated to picture his brothers grieving Harper’s loss, especially since they were both such tough men, but he knew that they both must have worked hard to move forward from Harper’s death. “It was just ‘cause I was so desperate to see you all again, it’s like my mind was playin’ tricks on me. And then when Harper died -”

“She ain’t dead,” Bruce interrupted, to which Billy sighed. “I’m tellin’ ya’, she’s alive. I found her in a bookshop in Islington, with some boyfriend and a couple of kids. I think she was browsin’ the Shakespeare section. Remember, Billy, how she used to love Shakespeare?”

Billy looked away, too uncomfortable to meet his uncle’s eye.

“And that scar she had on her head, after the beam fell down,” Bruce went on. “She had that same scar. Says she couldn’t remember where she got it - she said somethin’ about wakin’ up.” There was a small pause, and he could tell that nobody was believing him. “Look, boys, I know how it sounds…but I raised your sister from a baby. I know every mole, freckle and scar on her body. The shape of her ears, her nose, the twinkle in her eyes. I know her like the back of my fuckin’ hand. This was Harper.”

“Harper went over a fuckin’ cliff, Bruce!” Billy said, his voice raised and charged with emotion. “No one ever found her! If they had, they would have told us. They would have told Wesley. It’s like Spencer said, if she was out there livin’ some life, don’t ya’ think she’d have tried to get back in touch? For fuck’s sake, Alex has been here in London all this time. Don’t ya’ think she’d have at least reached out to him?!”

Bruce fell silent, watching grimly at his nephews’ reactions. It hadn’t been his intention to upset them, but he knew that was a likely risk. He took a deep breath and allowed the air to settle between them. “She doesn’t remember,” he said. “She’s got a different name now. Goes by Rachel Fitz. She didn’t recognise me.” A lump was growing in his throat and he took a sip of his tea to try and swallow it down.

Billy had sat back in his chair, a hand resting over his mouth as he watched his uncle in concern. He wanted to point out that the reason she didn’t recognise him was because she wasn’t Harper, but the man seemed so sure of what he had seen - who he had seen - that he couldn’t quite bring himself to say it.

Interactions
Misty Gray Spencer
Melanin-Gxdess Alex

Bellz Harper

 

[Misty Gray]

Bruce's House
~ Bethnal Green, London ~

Spencer King​

Spencer stayed quiet as he let Billy address the matter with their uncle. His brother agreed with him as he reasoned with Bruce that he'd "seen" Harper many times over the years. He'd seen all of them at some point since the split, but in the end the people he's seen were all strangers in reality. When Billy began mentioning Harper's death, Bruce was quick to interrupt and say she wasn't dead. Spencer's hands tensed as he stared at his uncle, trying to look beyond the man's eyes as if it were possible to see what was going on in his head. The older man was firm in his belief that he'd found Harper in an Islington bookshop, along with a boyfriend and kids. Apparently her browsing Shakespeare being evidence it was Harper.

"Harper isn't the only person ever to want to read Shakespeare," Spencer flatly reasoned as he picked up on Billy's discomfort.

Bruce then went on to mention the woman he'd seen having the same scar Harper had from the nightclub explosion and that she'd mentioned not remembering how she'd got it. It was clear Bruce had apparently interacted with the woman in the bookshop. Spencer had to wonder if the woman and interaction had been real at all. There seemed to be far too many coincidences for the woman who resembled Harper to be real. Bruce assured them he knew Harper's physical features having raised her from being a baby. Whilst this would be more than enough reason for Bruce to recognise Harper, the fact remained that Harper was long dead. What Bruce was saying was impossible.

Billy raised his voice as he reminded Bruce that Harper was dead and if she had survived then someone would have told them. Bruce asserted that Harper didn't remember them and didn't recognise him. To Spencer, that meant the woman Bruce had seen wasn't Harper... assuming she existed at all. Billy had fallen silent and the longer nobody spoke, Spencer knew he couldn't stay quiet. "Alex has been here in London this whole time. Interpol have been keeping tabs on everyone here the whole time. Hell, Trevor has been living in Islington - sober - all of these years. None of them have seen or heard from Harper since she died. Yet, you've been back in London for two weeks and you see Harper, alive and kicking? You've gotta admit it's a huge coincidence, Bruce. Damn near impossible, actually," he told him.

Spencer let out a deep sigh. "I get it, this is all crazy to process. Us lot being back together and in London, just like we were before Interpol muscled in... but without Harper. I wish she was here too, that all of us were together again like before." He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to hold back his own feelings that he'd locked away long ago. "I've already been through this with Jeremy, about his inability to let her go..." Spencer took a deep breath before looking Bruce in the eyes. "Whatever you think you saw, it can't have been Harper. She's dead and has been dead for years."

 

[Pyroclast]

Bruce's House
~ Bethnal Green, London ~

Bruce & Billy King​

Ever since Billy could remember, his Uncle Bruce was to him the one he could always depend on. He equipped him with wisdom to protect him from harm, he supported his interests and celebrated his achievements. He kept his secrets, gave him advice, never shamed him for his sensitivity but instead encouraged strength and courage. He took care of him during his bouts of depression and periods of heavy drinking. He stood up for him and loved him no matter what, even when Billy couldn’t love himself. He taught him to be a man.

Yet, now that Bruce needed to depend on him, Billy found himself struggling. Being away from all of his family during the past 12 years, he might not have been able to accept that Harper was gone if it hadn’t been for Wesley and seeing the grief and guilt his friend was suffering with. Wesley’s pain was the only thing that had truly convinced Billy it was real. That his silly little sister, his closest confidant, his lifelong best friend, was gone. Watching Bruce now, Billy wondered if maybe his uncle hadn’t had enough to convince him. He wondered if he had ever actually believed she had gone over the cliff, or even managed to grieve her at all.

Though Bruce maintained firm eye contact with Spencer as his nephew spoke, his emotions were visibly simmering beneath the surface. Billy noticed his uncle’s hand curl into a soft fist, his fingers twitching restlessly. His eye had begun to twitch, too - a tic of his that Billy had forgotten about completely since 12 years ago. He sat tensely, knowing that both his and Spencer’s reactions were not what he had wanted. His stomach was in knots at the thought that his uncle might actually cry.

Adding to Billy’s emotional tirade, Spencer pointed out to Bruce the extreme coincidence of spotting Harper in London after only two weeks of being back, given that both Alex and Trevor had been there the whole time and never seen her. He went on to try and sympathise, appearing to grow emotional himself as he pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. But it was his mention of having to tell Jeremy to let her go, that Bruce couldn’t have seen Harper because she had been dead for years, that finally made him snap, and he slammed his cup of tea down on the side table.

“Don’t talk to me about letting go,” Bruce spat. “This ain’t the first time I’ve lost a child.”

The air was so thick Billy could hardly breathe. A tear rolled down his cheek as he pressed himself against the backrest of the sofa, but he didn’t dare raise a hand to wipe it away.

“I know what death looks like. I’ve seen it too many times. It’s blue skin, it’s blood, it’s a fucking flat line. It’s a coffin, even when the body don’t come home intact. Death has a grave. And Harper got none of that. Missin’ people don’t get that, because they’re fuckin’ missing. Not dead - missing! So don’t tell me it’s impossible that she's still out there!” Bruce’s words wavered, his lip trembling as he spoke. “I woulda’ thought you boys’d understand, as fathers yourselves. A parent don’t give up. I. Will. Not. Give up.”

Billy let out a sharp breath and clamped a hand over his mouth to keep himself silent. He wasn’t brave enough to even think about losing Charlie. He wanted to protect his son forever, but Bruce’s experiences of loss proved to him that death didn’t discriminate, that loss was all chance and that he could only hope to never suffer the loss of a child like Bruce had. He couldn’t imagine surviving the loss of one, nevermind three.

“I have some stuff I need to do,” Bruce mumbled with a sniff, hauling himself carefully to his feet. It was only when he stood that Billy realised he was using a walking stick.

“Bruce…”

“It’s fine. I’m sorry I bothered you with this.” Bruce turned to face them, looking at each of his nephews in turn. “You go home. Just forget about it. I didn’t mean to upset you, I…it was selfish of me to call you over. Everythin’ you’ve been through. Please, just forget it. I’m sorry.”

Billy watched as his uncle made his way out of the room, noticing how weak and tired the man appeared. He wanted to say something to reassure him, but he couldn’t. Instead he just looked at his brothers, concern written all over his face.

Interactions
Misty Gray Spencer
Melanin-Gxdess Alex

Bellz Harper

 

[Misty Gray]

Bruce's House
~ Bethnal Green, London ~

Spencer King​

Spencer had caught the twitch in Bruce's eye and anticipated a reaction out of his uncle, but it didn't make him change his stance on what the older man was saying. Spencer had always spoken his mind and avoided sugar-coating situations - if anything, he was even more inclined to speak honestly to his family these days, even if the truth would hurt. So when Bruce slammed his cup down and told him not to talk to him about letting go, Spencer didn't flinch or react. He did, however, lightly nod his head when he pointed out it wasn't the first child he'd lost. He sympathised with Bruce for everything he'd been through over the years, but no part of him could play along with what seemed like the impossible.

Spencer glanced to his brothers, checking how they were holding up, but his eyes naturally returned to his uncle as he went on to express that he knew what death looked like. The fact they hadn't seen Harper's body and buried her in a coffin made Bruce believe she couldn't be dead, that she was instead missing. Spencer slumped back in his seat as he was told he should understand, being a father himself, but it did little to change his mind. He knew he could be stubborn and perhaps too much of a realist, but it didn't open him up to what Bruce was saying. Even after spending weeks at newborn Lottie's side believing she would die only for her to recover against the odds and bring a great sense of hope to him, Spencer remained a realist now, not having faith or belief in something he couldn't observe with his own eyes. He hadn't seen Harper since she'd died and he couldn't find it in himself to be fed false hope now.

When Bruce told the brothers to leave, Spencer stayed seated at first, resistant to leave his uncle's house on such a bad note. However, watching the man walk off with a stick and appear to struggle, Spencer felt compelled to stand up and approach him. The older man apologised for "bothering" them with the information, and Spencer quickly shook his head. "Bruce, I'm sorry I can't give you the reassurance and belief that you want from me..." he trailed off. "Nothing you've done is selfish and I ain't upset. You can always come to us. This conversation might not have gone down how you expected, but don't ever shut us out. We've all got to stay open with each other," he firmly assured him.

Regardless, Spencer decided it was best to give Bruce some space for now rather than overwhelm him and risk pissing him off. He looked to his brothers to do the same and leave their uncle's house too.

 

[Misty Gray]

Chapter 4: We Are Not the Same
Monday 13th October1997
...10 days later...
London - Most Scenes: Evening - Cold, Dry, Clear
London - King Remedial: Late Afternoon - Cold, Dry, Clear

******************************
INSERT BANNER IMAGE
******************************


King Remedial
~ City of London, London ~
​

Ezekiel Carter and Spencer King

The news about the Kings and the Porters apparently rising from the dead to show up in London had been quite the surprise to Ezekiel. The development didn’t scare or worry him, but he was wise enough to know he needed to step up his game and tighten his regime. One of the first people he’d turned his attention on was Trevor. Even after Spencer had as good as severed ties with Trevor and roughed him up as a bonus, Ezekiel still had to wonder if Trevor had known Spencer, Bruce, and the others had been alive all along. After enough of an interrogation, Ezekiel believed Trevor had only just learned the truth too. After the man had convinced him of his loyalty to the Carters, Ezekiel had assigned him some full-time security around his home. Whether it was for Trevor’s security or so he could keep a close eye on the man, Ezekiel hadn’t completely decided just yet. He knew better than to fully trust anyone, especially a man who was blood-related to his newest opposition.

Whilst Damian was on a job to secure Abel’s loyalty and Trevor sent out to give Christian his final warning, Ezekiel was preparing to pay a visit to Spencer himself. He’d been made aware of Syd’s presence at Daisy’s club over a week ago and knew the man’s place in the Irish Mob. For now, he was focused on scoping out Spencer and where he stood with the Kings. Given that he’d taken almost all of the business the Kings had left behind, along with asserting his control over members of Spencer’s own family, he had no doubts the meeting would be anything but agreeable. Besides, he intended to make sure Spencer knew his place in London now was no longer anywhere near the top!

Ezekiel wasn’t afraid to step into the Kings’ property to conduct his meeting, but he also wasn’t stupid enough to give Spencer time to prepare for his arrival. He would afford him the comfort of being in his own office, but was going to even out the playing field with the element of surprise.

Walking with Reign at his side, Ezekiel strode into King Remedial with a strong sense of confidence. “It’s showtime,” he told his daughter, flashing her a smile. He had no doubts she would thrive in such a meeting and she’d been his first choice to accompany him. When he reached the reception desk, he smiled at the familiar young woman who greeted him. When he told her he was there for a meeting with Spencer, she informed him he was about to start another meeting so was busy. “We’re the ones meeting with Mr. King, I can assure you.” There was something commanding in his tone, accompanied by the fact she already knew who he was, that compelled the receptionist to be agreeable. Of course, Ezekiel had been in attendance of meetings here before, but they had usually been arranged in his own name and official. “Take us to his office,” he told her, his tone oddly encouraging.

*****​

Spencer had continued to familiarise himself with present day London and getting up to speed on everything he needed to know about a city under Ezekiel’s control. He was learning a lot of things he didn’t like, much of which about how the Carters had been directly attacking and intimidating members of his family. Despite this, Spencer had maintained a low profile, not ready yet to pick fights and battles with the Carters. One person he had made waves with was Trevor. Although it was all planned in advance, it had been surprisingly difficult to inflict significant damage on his father. But after he thought about it, Spencer knew it was that he’d moved on from his mother’s death over the years which made his desire to beat the crap out of Trevor less of a natural desire. He did, however, find himself unable to do anything but respect the sacrifices his father was willing to make to support their shared cause. Maybe the old man really had turned over a new leaf!

With Billy taking on an active role in the mission, Spencer had dedicated the day to spending time with his youngest brother. He’d been introducing him to some of the more dangerous gang members as well as having him accompany him on various visits to their premises. This evening, he planned to take to one of their bases and get him familiar with the surveillance and dispatching procedures. Even if Interpol had shown him some of that already, Spencer wanted to show him from the angle of how the Kings got shit done!

Between the underground sides of their business, Spencer had to make a stop at the family-owned pharmaceutical company for a more legitimate kind of meeting. Now the Kings were back in business, they needed to reclaim the reins they’d handed over to the shareholders just before they’d had to leave in 1985. Spencer was grateful to their business partners for maintaining King Remedial in all of those years, so was keen to maintain their working relationship even if he now did now need to claim his role at the top - the position Bruce had now retired from.

Inside his office, Spencer was quickly changing out of his casual clothes and into a formal suit. He stood in front of the mirror as he dealt with his tie. He’d let Billy relax in the office until Edgar Whitworth, the shareholder he was meeting with, arrived to talk business. Taking a moment away from the serious subjects of the day, he spoke to his brother as he continued to look in the mirror. “How are things with Hendrik since moving to London?” he curiously asked him. Leaning forward to smooth his hair over to appear something more formal, he couldn’t help but grin. “Kerry says he’s popular with the customers… especially the women,” he commented, letting out a small laugh. Whilst Hendrik was being roped into helping out with some of the Interpol training, he’d also been keen to find some work as a chef alongside it. A good word had soon been put in with Kerry who was looking for a chef who actually knew how to cook!

Spencer had finished getting ready just as there was a knock at the door. He turned to Billy. “Are you good to hang around in here whilst I get this meeting out of the way?” he asked, not expecting the financial reporting of the pharmaceutical company to be too enthralling. Regardless of the response, Spencer pulled open the door to see the young lady from the downstairs reception standing at his door. His eyes soon moved from her to land on Ezekiel Carter himself. He then looked at the familiar young woman at his side. Reign had been a young adult already when he last saw her, but now she had clearly grown a lot and he didn’t need to look hard to find a strong confidence about her. Despite his shock at seeing the two Carters standing in the hallway, he was able to compose himself. “Thank you, Erica. I can take it from here,” he said, excusing the young receptionist from being caught in the middle of anything uncomfortable.

“I saw to it that your meeting with Edgar was rescheduled for next week. I believe it’s more important for us to meet first, wouldn’t you agree?” Ezekiel asked, flashing a charming smile at Spencer. “Reign, this is Spencer King. Spencer, this is my daughter, Reign,” he introduced them.

Spencer couldn’t help but let out a scoff, but it then turned to a smile and he slowly nodded his head. The most irritating part of it all was that Ezekiel had done this before he’d had a chance to do it to him. “It’s been a while, Ezekiel,” he said, loud enough for Billy to hear, as he reached out to shake the man’s hand that was offered. “And Reign, you too,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand as Ezekiel made it clear they should. Turning to look back at Billy, Spencer beckoned his brother closer. “Billy, you can join us in this meeting.” When his brother got to the door, he stepped aside to let Billy and the Carters greet each other. “You know, Ezekiel. You could have just arranged a meeting the normal way,” he commented as he began leading them all to the meeting room.

“I afforded you the comfort of this taking place on your own playground. Let’s not pretend we wouldn’t have had a less warm welcome had you been warned in advance.”

Bellz (Reign) Pyroclast (Billy)

The Brooks' House
~ Bethnal Green, London ~
​

Trevor Stewart and Christian Brooks

It had been over a week since Trevor had last been able to freely see his family. As soon as Ezekiel had learned Spencer was back in London, Trevor knew it was his cue to take steps to prove his loyalties were with the Carters. As expected, the knowledge of the Kings being back had put the Carters on high alert and it only took a day for Trevor to realise he was under surveillance. That was when the plan he’d made with Klaus and Spencer was put into action.

Seven days ago, Trevor had recognised the nearby vehicle parked across from his house as one belonging to Ezekiel’s spies. After giving Spencer the heads up, his eldest son had shown up at the house and given a very public display in Trevor’s front garden. The altercation had led to the two men throwing fists, albeit with Trevor ending up much worse off, as planned. The message had been sent loud and clear for Ezekiel’s henchmen; that Trevor wasn’t welcome anywhere near his family, including Alex’s bunch, who he’d grown close to over the last 12 years. Despite it being planned and ultimately his decision, Trevor had struggled with that. On a similar subject of difficult actions, there had been a brief moment during the planned fight that Trevor had caught something subtle in Spencer, that perhaps his eldest hadn't found it so natural to beat the shit out of him like he might have in the past. After a few words chosen to hit a nerve, however, Trevor had been able to coax the deep aggression out of his son.

The results of the fight had meant that when he was called to Ezekiel’s office a couple of days later, there was no need to exaggerate the back eye and bruising to his face. Ezekiel had been given every detail of what Spencer had done from the men he’d put on surveillance around Trevor’s house. Ezekiel had offered to deal with Spencer, which Trevor was quick to decline, pointing out that it was nothing to do with business and considering their history - which Ezekiel by now knew all about - he couldn’t blame his son for making him stay away from the family. One thing Trevor hadn’t been able to decline was Ezekiel’s offer of protection. Trevor wasn't sure how much of it was protection and how much was surveillance, but he had no choice but to accept it without argument.

Ezekiel wasn’t a man easily swayed and now the Kings were back, he’d stepped things up in making Trevor prove his loyalties to the Carters. Whilst he’d hadn’t got messy yet, Trevor feared it wouldn’t be long before he’d have to make some difficult decisions and more sacrifices. For now, everything that had been asked of him had been straightforward enough to do. Nothing yet that would add to the many actions he’d committed as a double-agent that weighed heavy on his conscience.

Today’s task was a mixed bag for Trevor. Whilst it meant he had to sever ties with May and the children for the foreseeable, the words he had for Christian were going to be easy ones. Admittedly, many of them would come from the part of him that was sick of the Detective, but some were to do the man a favour. Christian had flagged up on Ezekiel’s radar, which put him in a very dangerous position.

When Trevor got to the house, he was glad to hear that Jensen and Chloe were at a neighbour's house playing with some friends. It meant he didn’t have to hold back or speak in hushed tones. He was still sporting some bruising from a week ago, but by now any discomfort was gone. He’d sat himself at the dining table, asking May and Christian to join him.

“The reasons I’m here to talk to you both aren’t good ones, I’m afraid,” he began to inform them. “The first reason is that I need to give you a warning to back off,” Trevor addressed Christian.

“Oh Jesus. What are you talking about?” Christian asked, the irritation clear in his voice. Things with May hadn’t been great for some time and now more than ever was he feeling it. To have her father now there attacking him just added to the barrier between them. “May, what’s going on?” he asked, looking directly at his wife.

“This isn’t anything to do with May,” Trevor said, quickly shaking his head. “You’re the problem, Christian. Since Spencer made it crystal clear to me I’m not safe or welcome around my family, I picked a side. Ezekiel has always been respectful and trusting of me, which made it a bloody easy choice,” he said, pointing to his face as evidence of how the Kings treated him in comparison.

“Don’t pretend Spencer giving you what you deserved is what pushed you towards the Carters. I called it months ago, only you made out like I was talking shit. May. What did I say about Trevor getting close to the very people who have been hurting your family for years?!”

Trevor shook his head. He hated that he now had to let Christian believe he’d been right all along, that he didn’t care about his own family. It was because he cared for his family that Trevor was going this far. “I’m not here to argue. Listen to what I have to say, because your actions are putting May and the kids at risk. Christian, you need to back off and stop sticking your nose into the Carters’ business. You have next to no support from your colleagues and the Kings won’t want anything to do with you now you’re a stinking cop. Nobody is going to protect you from the Carters. So I’m here to tell you, on behalf of Ezekiel, to back the fuck off.” Trevor let out a deep sigh. “The pair of you need to start putting your kids first. May, what I’m saying here, is if Christian continues to get in Ezekiel’s way, he will take action.”

BasDorcha (May)

Construction Site
~ Limehouse, London ~
​

Damian Nicolosi

Abel had been asked to meet with Damian once the site had closed for the day and the workers had left. Granted, “asked” may not have been the correct word to use considering when Ezekiel was involved it was more of an order than a request.

Damian climbed out of the back of the car, leaving Zachary and Jake in the front seats for the time-being. “Stay sharp, lads,” he calmly told them. The area around the sealed construction site was quiet and as Damian approached the temporary cabin office where Abel was waiting for him, he couldn’t help but appreciate the darkness and the silence. Some might find it to be an uncomfortable atmosphere, but Damian found it inspiring more than anything.

Once inside the office, Damian removed his leather gloves and placed them into his coat pockets. “Good evening, Abel,” he greeted the young man. “Don’t you just love this time of year? There’s something comforting about these days getting shorter and darker,” he commented. Inviting himself to sit down, he faced Abel directly. “Now, how are things going over here? Running on schedule I hope,” he asked, though it was clear he had little interest in the development of the new laboratory. That was Ezekiel’s area to care about.

It soon became apparent that Damian didn’t care about the building works and had other reasons for the meeting. “I’m here on account of recent developments surrounding the return of your cousins. Your family being back in London gives us good reason to question loyalties, especially given that Daisy has been seen getting cosy with Spencer King. Your Uncle Trevor has proved himself, but you remain an anomaly, Abel. I need to leave here tonight believing that your loyalty is with Ezekiel and not with the Kings. Do you think that’s a reasonable thing for me to expect?”

BasDorcha (Abel)

***********​

Zachary Costa

From the driver’s seat of the car, Zachary watched Damian walking into the distance, slightly shaking his head as he observed the man walking with a spring in his step. Anyone would think Damian was heading into some kind of a party. “How many mental disorders do you think he has?” he asked, turning to Jake as he awaited his response. “Being in this line of work, I know I can’t be all that sane myself. And my son’s mother would certainly argue I’m not right in the head, but Damian’s a whole other kettle of fish.”

Zachary fell silent for a moment as he heard the faint thudding and the muffled male voice coming from in the boot of their car. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Looks like he’s getting restless again,” he remarked, in reference to the man they had tied up in the car boot. They didn’t know who exactly he was, but given what they did know about the nature of the visit to Abel and Spencer King recently returning, he figured the captured man was linked to the Kings.

After taking some time to check the area around them, he was content there wasn’t anyone around they needed to be concerned with. “Damian had better make this quick, it’s bloody cold sitting in here with the engine off. I fucking hate this time of year,” he complained. Figuring they would have to wait a little while longer, he turned back to Jake. “Come on then, have you any interesting updates for me since we last spoke? Found a girlfriend yet?” he teased.

neverbackdown (Jake)

Currently Active Cast: Misty Gray Bellz Pyroclast Melanin-Gxdess BasDorcha neverbackdown​

​