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

[neverbackdown]

Hard Rock Cafe
~ Piccadilly Circus, London ~

Cassandra Stewart
​

"Awh mum leave him be" Cassie commented, her voice cheery and light as always but her mother would be able to pick up on the serious undertone that she was directing her way. She figured that her mother was just laying down the law and giving Liam a hard time as any parents would, after all she seemed to like Liam when they were just friends but even if her mother wasn't being serious she still didn't want Liam to be put through a rough time.

"Good" Cassie mused "she's not as scary as she seems" she laughed with a shake of head before nodding when Liam motioned towards the door. "I would love to" she added before stepping over to give her mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek "Bye Mum". Throwing her bag over her shoulder, Cassie followed Liam towards the door.

When the taxi pulled up Cassie grinned clearly impressed with the timing of it all. She knew he was organized but this was something else. She raised an eyebrow when he apologized about the taxi "Don't be silly there's nothing wrong with getting a taxi" a hint of seriousness could be heard in her tone as she got into the car but her voice was soft so to not sound too stern.

A soft smile played on her lips as Liam helped her out the car "why thank you". She looked behind him at their destination and grinned but before she could comment on it, Liam began to spiral into awkwardness and Cassie bit her lip as she fought back her own fears threatening to bubble over, only one could be nervous at a time, or at least that's what she kept telling herself even though she could feel the back of her knees sweating and her hands were threatening to tremble.

"No no I think its perfect, anyway aren't fancy dinners more like the third date or something" a suggestive yet teasing smile played on her lips as she stepped closer to him and gently looped her arm in his as she had done multiple times before in the past but yet this time it felt different, it felt more intimate which caused a faint blush to spread across her cheeks and she ducked her head for a moment before looking back up at him as he spoke again.

"Oh they both sound like really good options" she mused with a soft smile and took a second to think them over in her head but she found herself to be undecided. Why was it so much more difficult to make plans now? It was almost as though the choices felt forced but she knew thats what happens when you take the leap from friends to something more. Biting her lip, Cassie gave a small shrug "How about we see where the night takes us" she suggested hoping that doing it this way would take some pressure of them both.

****************
Int;-
The Absolute Cutie Pie Misty Gray

 

[Misty Gray]

The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Zachary Costa and Damian Nicolosi
...and Grant​

Damian rolled his eyes as he watched Shona push Collin behind her. Still, at least they were already close together, benefitting him as the moment he'd recognised them he'd decided they were coming along for the rest of the evening's fun. When Shona addressed him, Damian allowed a smile to remain on his lips as she warned him that people would be lining up to kill him if they harmed any of the younger ones. "Oh, don't threaten me with a good time," he calmly replied. "I'm not afraid of death, Mrs King. Whatever the outcome of tonight, I can say, without a doubt, that I've had a good time." Damian then observed Julia as she spoke back to Shona too. Oh, how he enjoyed being sent out on jobs with Julia. The Morettis had given him plenty of fun and gruesome tasks when he was in their employment, but it was rare he'd been teamed up with someone who was so comfortable with his ways. They always seemed so, sane, for lack of better word. Julia, however, was comfortable in his presence and with the depraved acts he committed.

Zachary glanced to Julia as the woman picked out Arabella, putting a gun to her head as he was doing with Jane. He knew that should keep everyone else compliant, unless they really wanted to see Arabella's brain matter spread around the room.

Damian reached a gloved hand into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out an envelope addressed to "The Kings and The Porters". He delicately set it down on one of the dressing tables before retrieving a bloodstained knife and not-so-delicately slamming the blade down through the top corner of the envelope. This would secure the message in place on the table so it wouldn't be missed. "You!" he commanded, pointing to Grant. "Take that one from Julia," he ordered as he pointed at Arabella. The large man relieved Julia of the young woman she'd grabbed. Grant did as instructed and held Arabella in a firm grip, making sure his gun was held in view to keep everyone sensible.

"Mrs King and you, boy," Damian began, picking out Shona and Collin. "You'll both stick with us two," he said, referring to him and Julia. Before that, however, there was the matter of the other models stood cowering nearby. Two young men and two young women. "Stand against the wall!" he ordered them as he pointed to the wall opposite the fire exit. Without warning, he then fired off a series of bullets at the four models. None of the bullets were intended to be fatal, at least not instantly, but they'd be enough to keep some of the wannabe heroes in the building delayed and distracted. "Alright, let's take this party elsewhere," he gleefully announced, almost as if he was unaware of the screaming and crying around them. Trusting Julia could handle Shona, Damian grabbed Collin and pushed him towards the fire exit. "What's your name, young man?" he casually asked. "If you throw up, I'll be extremely disappointed," he added.

With the two catering vans outside waiting for them, the hostages were led out of the fire exit. "Careful you don't trip over that corpse," Damian lightly commented, as he dug his boot into the ribs of the dead Porter guard on the ground outside. The dead man had been guarding the fire exit outside before his throat was slit.

Soon enough, they were all in the back of their relevant catering van and the drivers made a speedy exit from the venue's grounds. Julia and Damian had Shona and Collin with them. Meanwhile, Zachary and Grant had Jane and Arabella. In the rear space of the transit van, the two young women were told to sit next to each other with their backs against the front seats. Grant and Zachary were meanwhile positioned in front of the rear doors, blocking an escape from the vehicle. Zachary reached up to switch on the light above his head so he could keep an eye on the two young women. Zachary had killed people for Ezekiel, making a damn good hitman. But this kind of job wasn't his preferred style. He liked to go in, do a smooth and efficient job, then move on to his next task. Tonight was more complicated and he found himself having to spend more time with the their victims than he'd like. On the plus side, he was grateful not to have been paired up with Damian on this job. The man was too theatrical and revelled in his work more than was necessary. Grant was easier to deal with. A bit of a letch, but he didn't speak much, which Zachary could work with. "This will all be over soon, ladies," Zachary told Jane and Arabella. His tone sounded reassuring, but he knew they wouldn't take much comfort from that.

Bellz (Julia, Collin) Pyroclast (Jane, Shona)

The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Spencer King and Savannah Vaughan​

Savannah's large eyes widened even further when Roxie mentioned a man had gone into the dressing room with the models. "What do you mean? What man?" she worriedly asked but quickly nodded when her friend said he'd looked like security. She softly gripped her friend's arm as she saw tears welling up in her eyes. "Maybe it's just a misunderstanding," she reasoned, but her own anxiety made it impossible for her to speak with conviction. She'd lived through too many attacks to think optimistically in that moment.

Even though she knew he couldn't magically open the doors, Savannah felt some sense of relief when Spencer reached them. She was sure he'd know what to do, especially as he and Syd had organised the evening.

When Roxie explained what had happened and that the doors were locked, Spencer reached out to put a reassuring hand on each of the women's shoulder. He looked at Roxie as she spoke about a man who appeared to be security going into the room. "No, why would that cross your mind as suspicious?" he rhetorically mumbled. When she went on to apologise, tears rolling down her cheeks, he turned to look her in the eyes. "This isn't your fault. Why would you think to question security?" he reasoned. Spencer wasn't in any way questioning the women's ability to open a door, but instinctively he grabbed at the handle to try it himself. His close proximity to the door enabled him to hear the gunshots clearly from inside the dressing room.

With his wife and the models inside the room, Spencer felt the fear, rage, and desperation overcome him all in one go. "Who's got the fucking keys..." he snapped. Turning to looking back into the busy room he managed to pinpoint one of the security guards. Rushing over to him, he grabbed at the man's shoulder and pointed to the locked door. "Unlock the fucking door. Now! Hurry up!" he growled. By now, Syd and Jeanie would no doubt be aware something wasn't right and that Roxie was upset.

Spencer practically marched the security guard to the door but as soon as he'd unlocked it, he held him back from opening it. "You both need to move away from the door," he told Roxie and Savannah. "Everyone needs to move away!" he commanded to anyone near the doorway. "You need to call through to whoever's guarding the outside of the fire exit," Spencer ordered the security guard, prompting the man to try contacting his teammate over the walkie-talkie. He wouldn't get an answer given that guard was laying dead in a pool of his blood from a slit throat.

Spencer pulled out his handgun and signalled for the security guard to slowly edge the door open whilst he aimed into the room. It took some cautious moments before they realised whoever the shooter had been, they weren't in the room. Spencer caught sight of one of the models who was knelt on the floor clutching at her hip with blood-soaked hands. "They've gone," the young woman cried out. Fuelled by his need to see Shona, Spencer finally rushed into the room. Looking around, it became evident that not only were the assailants gone, but some of the models were too - along with his wife. "Shona?!" he desperately called out. Not noticing the knife and letter on the dressing table, he rushed to the fire exit and pushed it open. There was nobody in sight, other than the dead guard on the ground close-by. Rushing back inside he looked at the others who had now followed himself into the room. "They took them." Setting his sights on a young man with a minor leg wound, he crouched down to his side. "Where did they take them? How many? Were they all alive? Where are they?" he firmly asked the sobbing male model. The model cried as he confirmed the four people, including Shona, who were taken. Whilst he had no idea where they'd gone, he confirmed all four hostages were still alive and uninjured when they left.

Savannah gasped at the sight of the injured models and felt her heart sink as she heard people had been taken. People who were her family and friends. The tears filled her eyes but the young model bleeding out from the gunshot wound above her hip grabbed her immediate attention. She quickly tugged at the restricting underskirt petticoat of her ballgown, not caring if she damaged it along the way. She then crouched down by the injured model and grabbed someone's nearby shirt, using it to put pressure against the wound. "They need medical help!" Savannah shouted out to whoever was listening.

Along with that model and the young man with the leg wound, the other female model had a gunshot wound in her thigh, whilst the other - and deathly pale-looking - male had sustained multiple wounds to the abdomen, putting him in the most critical position at that moment.

Bellz (Roxie)
Mentions: Pyroclast (Syd), Bellz (Jeanie), AND ANYONE ELSE WHO CAN HELP

The Statesman
~ South Bank, London ~

Emery Callahan​

Emery's porcelain skin reddened as Dawson complimented her, telling her she blended in at the restaurant. "Stoooop. You're too kind," she said, though smiled brightly. She then nodded in understanding when he explained he wanted to make up for what happened the day they met. "Well, you've done well, Mister," she assured him.

Emery noticed the hesitation when the subject of his dating life since his divorce was brought up. She figured it wasn't yet an easy subject for him to discuss and not knowing the details, she couldn't begin to guess what kind of history he might have. When he finally spoke to confirm he hadn't dated since, she picked up on his awkwardness. She wasn't sure if he was embarrassed about that, but it wasn't something she judged him on. If anything, it made her feel special that she was his first date since his divorce.

"I'm glad you don't feel guilty about this. You shouldn't feel bad about wanting to move on with your life," she suggested. "I'm glad you wanted to get to know me. I'm really enjoying this, with you."

When Dawson then asked about her own dating life, Emery lightly shrugged her shoulders. "I'm still quite new to London, so I haven't had chance to build up a fanbase for you to fend off," she half-joked. This time it was her turn to hesitate in speaking about her dating life. "There's no suitors you need to be concerned about. No unfinished business or baggage waiting to crawl out of the woodwork on the romance front. And tough guys are overrated and dull," she reassured him. "I don't have kids. I've never been married or had a relationship that lasted long enough to have me considering it. I just haven't found that connection with anyone yet." She let out an awkward laugh. "You're already more interesting than most of them ever were," she admitted.

Bellz (Dawson)

 

[Pyroclast]

The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Shona King and Jane Porter​

Damian had always been something of an enigma to Shona, and yet she felt she knew him as much as she needed to. He was hollow. Shona had known plenty of people without a grasp of empathy, but this man’s sheer lack of emotion separated him from most other human beings. He was always calm, as if nothing ever affected him - and not in the way that a strong-minded, stoic person might try to be, but rather in that he was genuinely immovable. Even his arrogant words didn’t come with a sneer - just a mirthless, empty smile.

“You’re a sad, sick man,” Shona fire at him, when he explained that he could die happy once the night was over. “There’s so much you’re missing, living life the way you do. And yet, not one person in the world will miss you when you’re gone.”

A shrill laugh stole her attention, and when a woman stepped into view, Shona knew immediately who it was. Like Damian, Julia was twisted, though perhaps not quite in the same way. She was a thrill-seeker, and seemed like the type to find no greater thrill than in inflicting pain and torment upon others. She made it clear that they had no intention of leaving before doing whatever it was they had come to do. All Shona could think of was to try to hold their attention for long enough that help might arrive before they could get to that point.

Suddenly Julia had her gun to Arabella’s head and began to torment her, yanking her hair back violently as she threatened to blow her brains out. “Don’t - don’t touch her!” Shona blurted out, only just stopping herself from launching forward. She looked at Arabella and Jane in desperation, the latter of whom was now shaking and crying audibly, her mascara painting black streaks on her face. Shona knew she had to be the strong one in the situation, and figured that that was probably how she was holding herself together despite her intense fear that those girls would end up dead if anybody made even the slightest wrong move. Julia said something about vans, and it was then that Shona realised that they were being kidnapped, not just held hostage. Maybe someone outside would see them - maybe Spencer or Syd or some of their guards would have worked out what’s going on and reached the back of the dressing room by now, in time to see the vans, note down their licence plates, perhaps even intercept the captors as they tried to load them in.

On a darker note, she wondered what they were going to do with all the other models in the room. There were still a number that hadn’t gone out on stage yet, and Shona had no idea if their kidnappers had known who was going to be backstage and were targeting her, Collin, Jane and Arabella specifically, or if they had just come to pick up anybody. Surely, though, they hadn’t brought enough vans to take every single person in the room. So were the rest of them going to stay in the dressing room as hostages…or were they in for an even worse fate?

During this whole interaction, Shona had been standing in front of Collin, doing her best to separate him from the rest of their assailants. She was reluctant to take her eyes off them, and so even when Julia pointed out how ill he looked, all Shona did was shift slightly to block her from reaching him. Her hand, however, moved back to offer him some support, something to steady him if he needed it. “Hold tight, Collin,” she reassured him, her eyes fixed on Julia all the while. “It’ll be okay.”


Jane was by now near beside herself with panic. Zach’s arm and the gun aimed at her head were the only things keeping her upright. Her dress felt too tight and hindered her breathing, just as it had when she had been nervous about going on stage. Nausea was coursing through her, too, but even though her body was begging her to get onto the ground and curl into the foetal position, she didn’t dare give in. Arabella’s hand was right next to hers and she just wanted to hold it, squeeze it like she would if they were both about to jump out of a plane without a parachute. But again, she was too afraid to even lift a finger.

The sight of Damian’s blood-stained knife turned her stomach and she closed her eyes, doing her best to control her crying and fight the dizziness that threatened to pull her to the ground. Hearing the thwack of the blade against the wooden dressing table made her jump, however, and her eyes shot open along with a shuddering gasp. It was only then that she noticed the envelope he had fixed there. From where she stood, she couldn’t see what was written on it, but she was in no state of mind to try and work out what it contained. Was a kidnapping not enough of a message?

The man then ordered another of the kidnappers to take Arabella off Julia’s hands. While this man appeared physically imposing and still kept a gun aimed at Arabella’s head, Jane had to hope that he wasn’t as sadistic as Julia was. Shona and Collin were then called forward and claimed by Damian and Julia. The four of them had been singled out, but before Jane could think about who the other four models in the room would go with, Damian ordered them to stand against the wall. He then got out his gun and proceeded to open fire. Jane screamed. Her hands flew up to protect her ears, knocking Zach’s gun in the process, and she squirmed against his tight grip. Part of her knew still that moving was dangerous with a gun trained on her, but she couldn’t help it. The four models all collapsed to the ground at once, screaming in pain, their blood pooling rapidly around them. Jane felt faint all of a sudden, her body screaming at her to flee the scene, but her vision was going spotty and she could hardly see what was in front of her, let alone a way of escape.

Shona had pulled Collin into her arms and spun him around so that he didn’t have to watch. She only stood at five foot three and he at six, but she did her best to shield him from the sight anyway. The young man was clearly already disturbed by the situation and she didn’t want to make it worse for him. She, on the other hand, could see everything. She watched in horror as the models screamed and cried and writhed on the floor, blood pulsing in thick waves from the wounds in their legs, abdomens, arms. They were going to die if help didn’t come soon enough. They were all too young…

So shocked at the scene, Shona didn’t even see Julia approach her until she and Collin were yanked apart. They were brought outside through the exit, where a dead guard lay in a crumpled heap, blood still spurting from his slashed throat. His body was so close to the door that there was no way to get past without stepping into the pool of blood. She couldn’t tell if Collin, or any of them for that matter, were on the edge of vomiting, but after Damian’s warning she hoped that everyone was able to hold themselves together. Jane was clearly struggling to contain her emotions and Shona worried that their attackers might reach the end of their patience and try to silence her through force. After what they had done to the four injured models, she didn’t doubt that they were ready to use their guns on them, too.

When it became clear that they were being separated into two different vans, the four kidnappers had to practically wrestle them inside. Jane was screaming and thrashing in Zachary’s arms, and even Shona was protesting, against her best judgement. Not knowing where the two girls were being taken was somehow even worse than not knowing where her own van was going. However, it only fuelled her protective nature and by the time they were on the road, she was like a mother bear, clutching Collin tight in her arms like he was her cub, and ready to bite anyone who tried to touch him.

“What are you doing this for?” she growled at Damian and Julia. “The threat would have been enough to get whatever it is you want. You didn’t have to hurt or kill anybody. You didn’t have to take the boy, or the girls. Just let them go and take me. I promise that’ll be enough. You can do whatever you want to me, just stop the van and let him out.”

Meanwhile, in the other van, Jane was sitting stiffly with her back against the front seat, trembling uncontrollably. Grant and Zachary were directly opposite, but she couldn’t look at them - especially Zachary, who she now couldn’t believe she had ever felt attracted to. He had the devil’s eyes, and now she felt them burning through her skin as she fixed her gaze firmly on the ground. She couldn’t find her voice to ask where they were going, so all she could do was wait to find out. Her thoughts went to her parents, wondering what they were doing, where they were, if they were on their way. Her eyes glazed over at the thought that she might never see them again, and when Zachary assured them that it would all be over soon, Jane burst into fresh tears.

Interactions
Misty Gray Damian, Zachary, Grant
Bellz Julia, Collin
Melanin-Gxdess Arabella

 

[Bellz]

The Ballroom
(Tables)
~ Covent Garden, London ~


Klaus Jäger
Wesley Roberts​

Wesley's gaze flicked towards Klaus as he and Spencer began questioning the notion of idly waiting. Klaus, typically a man of patience, rarely raised his voice or caused a scene unless necessary. Yet, Wesley had become astute enough to discern even the subtlest changes in his demeanor. He observed a faint downturn of Klaus's lips, signaling his disapproval of rushing into conflict with the Carters before receiving approval from higher authorities. Wesley felt they were ready enough, given most of the crew had experience and the ones who didn’t were fast learners. But Klaus was always the one to cross his t’s and dot his I’s before heading straight into battle…especially if he knew he did have the time.

Before the man could caution Spencer and remind Wesley of the potential consequences of acting hastily, Logan was already stepping in to apologize for interrupting. Klaus stayed quiet momentarily, focusing his attention on Logan with a smile. He wasn't annoyed by the interruption; the seasoned agent realized that perhaps the direction of their conversation wasn't suitable for the current occasion. Wesley nodded alongside his superior, exchanging a knowing smirk with Logan as Spencer teasingly questioned him about being easily distracted.

Klaus and Wesley remained curious as Logan feigned offense, detecting a hint of deception in his words. He hastened to explain that he had been conversing with Syd, but Spencer's attention was diverted elsewhere before he could further clarify. Wesley's gaze was fixed on Logan, while Klaus's attention shifted along with Spencer's. Every aspect of the evening had been meticulously orchestrated, down to the precise timing. It was all perfectly scheduled. However, the sight of Savannah still adorned in her catwalk attire with Roxie by her side was an ominous indication.

Spencer instructed Logan to remain where he was and remain attentive. Klaus rose from his seat, followed by Wesley, but they both remained in their positions as Spencer cast them a worried glance. Neither of them would make a move unless necessary, amidst a crowd of people unaware of their identities or purpose there. Klaus turned to Logan, "You mentioned speaking with Syd outside. Did anything else occur after your conversation with him, or perhaps even before?" Klaus inquired, seeking to ascertain if there was any possibility that someone might have infiltrated through the front entrance.

"If both Syd and he were outside, nobody could have slipped through, especially with the others out there too," Wesley quickly countered, defending Logan as he glanced at him before turning to Klaus. "I'm not placing blame, Wes. I simply want to understand what occurred during that time," Klaus responded calmly, his voice devoid of tension as he observed Spencer blocking Savannah and Roxie. "But whatever's unfolding over there, I'm certain it's more than just a wardrobe malfunction."
with: Logan Misty Gray
mentions: Spencer, Savvy, Syd Pyroclast

 

[Pyroclast]

The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Syd Porter​

It wasn’t a surprise to hear Jeanie admit that she had felt overlooked and abandoned while living in the family home. Syd knew that the years he had spent in prison and various hospitals had stolen considerable chunks of bonding time from J.J. and the twins. He knew that his mental health conditions had demanded a lot of attention from their mother, at times robbing them of the attention they had needed growing up. It should have felt good to be having such a productive conversation with Jeanie after years of not understanding each other, but even though his daughter’s words didn’t shock him, they still saddened him to hear. In the end, there wasn’t time to figure out how they were going to move forward, anyway, because before Syd could work out what to say next, Jeanie drew his attention instead to Roxie and Savannah.

They were on the other side of the room, trying to open a door that led to the dressing room. It puzzled him as to why they were trying to use that one, since the one they were supposed to use was the one behind the curtain. But when Syd caught the look on Roxie’s face, alarm bells sounded in his head. “Jeanie,” he said, his voice carrying a grim urgency as he pushed himself away from the wall. “Go and stand with your brother.” Concerned that she wouldn’t take him seriously, he sent her a look and repeated, “Go. Now.”

Pulling a nearby guard aside, Syd ordered her to watch over Jeanie and J.J. before weaving through the crowd to reach his wife. He caught up to them just as Roxie was tearfully apologising to Spencer for not stopping a man or demanding to see identification. In a weird way, Syd hoped that Savannah and Roxie were both having some sort of PTSD episode triggered by some minor misunderstanding, that nothing was wrong after all and all he would have to do was help calm them down. After all, they had both been through immensely traumatic events in the past, many of which occurred during events not dissimilar to the fashion show. It wouldn’t be hard to believe that their nerves had got the better of them. Yet, their distress was contagious; already Syd could feel his body tingling with dread. This was only heightened by how seriously Spencer was taking it, and so, despite not having witnessed anything suspicious himself, Syd was almost fully convinced there was a serious problem.

And then he heard gunshots.

His stomach dropped. “Jane,” Syd said, to no one in particular. For a few seconds, he was utterly paralysed. That initial feeling of dread suddenly multiplied tenfold and brought him to a complete halt - he couldn’t move, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe. All sound became distorted, like he was underwater. Like he was drowning. Suddenly he felt a hand shake his shoulder and just like that, he was brought back into the room. It was one of the guards. Before he could even register if the man was speaking already, Syd turned to face him. “There’s a situation,” he said.

“What’s going on?”

“Code red,” Syd decided. “Code red, Duffy, it’s a fucking code red, get your fucking radio out!” He dragged a hand through his hair as the guard brought the transmitter to his mouth. “Initiate the emergency action plan,” Syd commanded, and then left him to organise the other guards into herding the audience and staff members to the evacuation points.

By the time he turned his attention back to the dressing room, Spencer had managed to get the door open and had stepped inside. With no apparent altercation happening, Syd rushed over and followed the man into the room. Evidence of an attack was everywhere: the four models in the room had been left writhing on the ground, crying and clearly terrified out of their minds as blood gushed out of their wounds and soaked into the wooden floorboards. However, Jane, Shona, Collin and Arabella were nowhere to be seen. The trembling voice of a young man grabbed his attention, then, and as Spencer questioned him on everything that had happened, desperate for information about where they might be, Syd just found Roxie’s eyes and held her gaze. Their little girl had been taken. Alive and apparently uninjured, but that could have already changed. And they had no idea where they were.

Jumping into action, Syd reached the guard who had let them into the room and demanded him to find his children, and the rest of the family members. “You don’t leave them, okay? You find them and you stay with them.” All the guards had been briefed in a security meeting in which they were shown the faces of all the family members attending and everyone on duty, so that if anyone unfamiliar came in, they would be able to recognise a potential threat. He thought his security methods were as tight as could be, yet, somehow, someone - or more likely, a group - had managed to slip through. When he had time, Syd would gather them all together for a debrief to find out what they had done wrong and if anyone in the team was to blame specifically. Right now, however, his focus was purely on getting his daughter back.

Savannah urgently reminded everyone that the models were in need of medical help. “Sav, stay here and do what you can,” he began, before turning to his wife. “Roxie -” The tears and the terror on her face almost caused him to break - not being able to stop and comfort her after their daughter had just been kidnapped only added to the stress. “Roxie, go and find someone who can -”

But the sight of his name stopped him in his tracks. Written on an envelope on the dressing table behind his wife, was: The Kings and the Porters. “Spencer,” Syd called over to the man as he rushed over and snatched it up. “They left a note!”

He tore it open and four small pieces of paper fell out, causing him to have to stoop to pick them up off the floor. “It’s just four numbers,” he told the room. “What the fuck? Is that it?” His hands shook as he tossed the scraps of paper on the table. “What is it, part of an address? Coordinates, maybe?” His breathing got heavier and more rapid as he stared helplessly at the numbers. “4, 3, 9, 7,” he read out. “Or 9, 3, 4, - shit, they could be in any order. What the fuck good is this?!” Syd snatched up the numbers, screwed them up in his hand and threw them into the corner in frustration. “We don’t have fucking time for games and cryptic fucking clues!” he shouted. “We need to know where we’re going so we can get on the road, NOW!”

Interactions
Bellz Roxie
Misty Gray Savannah, Spencer

 

[Bellz]

In Route to the Unknown
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Collin McCarthy
Julia Avvocata​

Honestly, Collin felt the nausea creeping up inside him, but he fought hard to keep it in check, his hands quivering at his sides. Shona's reassuring touch lingered, though he couldn't bring himself to respond, paralyzed by fear. What followed seemed eerily orchestrated: an envelope placed meticulously on a nearby dressing table, then a blood-stained knife forcefully driven through it. Collin jerked upright at the sharp sound, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Amidst the commotion, Arabella was wrestled away from Julia, who reluctantly relinquished her hostage. "Fine," Julia sighed with exaggerated heaviness, "It's been fun terrorizing you, hun!" Her grin widened as she waved goodbye to Arabella. Collin remained rooted behind Shona, praying he wouldn't become the next target.

Damian's declaration that Shona and Collin would remain with him and Julia barely registered with Collin, his focus drawn instead to the other models, ignored and unacknowledged. A knot formed in his stomach as Damian ordered them against the wall, followed by the sudden eruption of gunfire without warning. Shona instinctively pulled him close, attempting to shield him from the horror unfolding before them — and Collin made no resistance. Despite her attempt to shield him, the mirrors reflected the grim reality behind her: bodies strewn across the pristine white floor, blood pooling, the loud echo of gunshots ringing in his ears, mingled with Jane's piercing screams.

The metallic scent of blood inundated the cramped dressing room, assaulting Collin's senses and causing dizziness to sweep over him. Desperately, he averted his gaze from the mirror, attempting to shield himself from the gruesome scene unfolding before him. The urge to shut his eyes and block out the horror tugged at him, yet the gravity of the situation kept him alert, denying him the refuge of temporary oblivion. Amidst the chaos, the anguished cries of the models seemed distant, as if emanating from another realm, while Collin still caught fleeting glimpses of the chaos reflected in the mirror's surface.

Julia's grin remained intact, reveling in the chaos sprawled across the floor. "Such a pity, I adored those clothes," she remarked, her tone almost casual amidst the carnage. Closing in, she forcefully separated Shona and Collin, her demeanor shifting abruptly. "Enough of this!" she snapped, wrenching Shona's arms behind her back, pressing the cold metal of her gun against Shona's spine. With Shona now taken, Collin felt exposed and vulnerable. All he longed for was the safety of home. The thought of never seeing his family again sent a shiver down his spine. Suddenly, Damian seized him, sending tremors through Collin's body, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. Damian inquired about his name with unsettling calmness, but Collin remained steadfast, refusing to comply. Then Damian added he’d be extremely disappointed if he threw up.

Silent and compliant, Collin found himself pushed out through the fire exit alongside the others, Damian's warning about watching out for the corpse ringing in his ears. But a momentary lapse led him to glance down, locking eyes with the lifeless face of a man he recognized from the training facility. Damian's boot connecting with the guard's ribs reverberated through Collin, forcing him to stifle the rising bile in his throat. The sight of the two waiting vans ignited a surge of panic within him, amplified by Jane and Shona's protests. Yet, with Damian looming behind him, Collin knew he couldn't afford to succumb to panic. After witnessing Damian's ruthless efficiency, and gunning down four individuals without hesitation, Collin understood the consequences of disobedience all too well.

As they rode in the van, Collin felt himself slipping into a state of detachment. Thoughts of Michael, whom he'd never had the chance to tell he loved again, haunted him. Then there was Lucas, his recently reconciled best friend, whom he cherished deeply and was feeling… things for. Shona's embrace offered a semblance of comfort, her maternal aura reminding him of his own mother, a realization that might have moved him to tears had he not disconnected himself from the reality of the situation to protect his own sanity. It was Shona's voice that momentarily pulled him back, as she confronted Damian and Julia, demanding answers and pleading for his release, offering herself in exchange.

Julia's laughter, tinged with amusement, startled Collin, causing him to flinch within Shona's embrace. Her eyes roamed over them with a detached interest, assessing the situation. "I'm afraid the price for your safety, Mrs. King, falls far short," she remarked, her tone cutting. "And as for releasing the others? That wouldn't be fair to you, would it? And this man," she gestured towards Collin, "hardly a child at his age. We have further plans for him... and for you." Her smile stretched unnaturally wide as she glanced towards Damian. "We're going to have a great time! So, cheer up!"

As Julia turned away, Collin glanced at Shona, determination etched on his face. "I-I'm not leaving you," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly, teeth still chattering with residual fear. "I'm okay," he insisted, his words more for himself than for her. "Promise." He attempted to muster a brave facade, reassuring her that he would manage. He didn't want Shona to feel responsible for his safety, knowing that focusing solely on him could put her in danger too. The woman up front was right — he was a man, and he needed to be able to defend himself and Shona if necessary.
with: Shona Pyroclast ; Damian Misty Gray
mentions: Arabella Melanin-Gxdess ; Jane

 

[BasDorcha]

Greenwich Park Playground

~Greenwich Park, London~​

Jeremy Gray

Jeremy watched quietly as she inspected the necklace, flashes of the past still dancing before his eyes. There were memories of this current life, of her excitedly wearing it and working diligently to get the photos just right within. There were also dreams of another life, older, ancient even, giving it to a beautiful version of Harper in centuries past, her in an elegant Victorian dress. He had often dreamed those images, wondering if it was just his imagination or some vestiges of a past life lingering in his soul, but he was never sure. Instead he just kept it to himself, holding it close like the warm embers of a dying fire. She studied the pictures with all the care in the world, holding the necklace like it was made of glass. She brushed against Bucky's face, much like she had done the day she put it in. Jeremy couldn't help the nagging thought at the back of his head that she was somehow Harper, even as he tried to actively combat it with his conscious brain.

Looking up for a moment, he found the little girl and smiled. She looked so much like her mother, but there was something else familiar in her looks, something that reminded him of himself. He chided himself and looked back at the woman, sighing. It was hopeful thinking. Let it go, Jeremy. He watched as she struggled to remember the moments, the events captured in the photos, hoping to see a spark. When there was, he held his breath, refusing to speak. When she handed the necklace back, a crushed look crowded his face, despite him attempting to keep it looking pleasant, albeit sad. She began apologizing, again saying she was sorry for his loss. He shook his head, trying to remain calm. If it was Harper, scaring her away wouldn't help anything. If it wasn't Harper, she didn't deserve him freaking out on her.

As quickly as it had all began, she stood and gathered her things, an instant ache filling his heart, bringing the stinging back to his eyes. He blinked rapidly, trying to force it away. She again claimed it wasn’t her, that she had no family besides…. Laura. Jeremy instantly alerted, eyes flying up to her, shock clear on his face. His mouth gaped, his eyes stared, he paled and two lone tears fell, one from each eye at the same time rolling down his cheeks. He was suddenly as certain as he was that breathing was needed to keep surviving that this woman was Harper. She didn't know it, she was convinced it was someone else, but there were to many coincidences. What were the chances that a woman who carried Harper's image at the right age Harper would be, who had a daughter the same age as their daughter would be, would also name their daughter Laura, just like Harper's mother, just like him and Harper had already decided? He gulped, struggling to breath past the lump in his throat.

Quietly he said, "That was Harper's mother's name… what are the chances?" He wasn't sure she heard it, he had really been talking to himself, trying to wrestle with understanding and fate, trying to quickly calculate the one in a million or more chances that it could just be providence.

He stood unconsciously, taking a small step towards her before gaining control and falling back again. His hands shook, so he shoved them in his pocket. He couldn't just let her walk away. He had to find a way to see her again, to keep trying. Looking across the park, he grasped at anything he could say to keep her talking. Thankfully, she gave him a reason. She turned to tell him it was nice meeting him, asking his name. Out of the grief written on his face, the hands of time began to spin backwards, seeming to regress the lines, bringing out the once young and boyish features as he smiled, a crooked and easy smile, so much like the ones he had always given her when he was a lad fresh out of college.

Slowly he reached his hand out, offering it to her, waiting with patience for her to take it. Certain he would feel that electric shock that always came when they touched, he waited until she took it before the smile and the glimmer in his eyes exploded into a fully fleshed image of a twenty-something man standing before her.

"Jeremy, Jeremy Gray. And you are?"


Bellz - Harper's Doppleganger

 

[Bellz]

The Ballroom
(outside dressing room door)
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Roxie Porter​

Roxie desperately wished it were all just a dreadful misunderstanding, perhaps a ghastly coma-induced reverie from which she might one day awaken. Yet the harsh reality refused to relent. Spencer's attempt to console both her and Savvy with a reassuring touch fell short; Roxie was beyond reassurance. There was something wrong, and they needed to get inside that dressing room, now. Spencer's rhetorical question ignited a response in her frantic mind, as she had sensed an unsettling aura deep within. Something had felt awry about the man as she walked past him. Though inexplicable, its existence was undeniable. She lamented her inaction as she passed by, regretting her silence. Perhaps speaking up, even at the risk of peril, would have kept her close to Jane. As she dwelled on thoughts of her daughter and the others, tears continued to stream down her cheeks. Meeting Spencer's gaze, she absorbed his attempt to absolve her of blame, yet the weight of responsibility persisted. Why hadn't she questioned the security measures? The question lingered, haunting her with the possibility of having averted this calamity.

None of it held any significance now. Roxie's lack of action had resulted in their disappearance. Overwhelmed by emotions, she remained silent, unable to form an argument. Her attention shifted as she caught Syd's eye, noticing him creeping toward their conversation. Spencer moved to open the door, and then they all heard it—a sound that reverberated through the room. The rapid gunfire pierced the air, its intensity shaking Roxie to her core. It felt as if the soundwaves resonated deep within her chest, akin to the bass of heavy metal music—an awful melody. Roxie's hands instinctively covered her mouth, stifling any potential outburst, while fresh tears welled in her wide eyes. She leaned into Savannah, experiencing a disorienting sensation of light-headedness and tingling, but in the most distressing manner possible. As Spencer instructed them to step back from the door, Roxie's unease grew palpable, yet she and Savannah complied without hesitation. While Syd and Spencer issued rapid-fire orders to those around them, Roxie found herself unable to look away from the door ahead. It was the very portal through which she had last glimpsed her daughter, and Arabella, alive and well—a memory that now haunted her. Collin and Shona, brimming with happiness and vitality, also occupied her thoughts. Struggling against tears that threatened to blur her sight entirely, Roxie remained fixated on the door, her vision tunneled and unyielding as it swung open before her.

Pushing gently off Savvy, Roxie blinked repeatedly, attempting to clear her vision before moving forward despite the limited space. She trailed closely behind Savannah as they entered the room behind the men. The acrid scent of blood assailed her senses as her sight nearly failed her, its metallic tang coupled with a sickening sweetness embracing her in its sinister odor. Overwhelmed by way too many memories, Roxie retreated to a corner, listening to the chaos unfolding around her. For a moment, her blurry gaze drifted upward to the ceiling as she waited for her vision to stabilize. Gradually, clarity returned, revealing Spencer conversing with the other models, seeking information about their missing loved ones, including Shona. With her vision fully restored, Roxie wiped her eyes and wasted no time surveying her surroundings—the blood on the floor, the injured models. Despite Savannah's efforts to assist and the urgent need for medical aid, Roxie found herself immobilized, paralyzed by anxiety akin to stage fright.

Roxie's gaze shifted to the spot where Jane had stood mere moments ago, her eyes sweeping the surroundings until Syd's voice broke through, calling her name. Meeting her husband's gaze, she saw the same anguish mirrored in his eyes as she felt in her own. Though she yearned to let herself unravel, she knew she couldn't afford to succumb to the despair at that moment. He was on the verge of telling her something, urging her to find someone, when his attention was diverted by something behind her. Confusion etched across her face. "What?" she asked hoarsely, turning with him as he strode across the room to retrieve something from the table. Her husband tore open the envelope, and Roxie watched as small pieces of paper fluttered to the floor—just four numbers. That was it? Roxie's mind raced, considering the possibilities as Syd suggested they might be part of an address. But that seemed too simplistic. Could they be coordinates? If so, two sets of two numbers could represent longitude and latitude. Yet, what else could these numbers signify? It became apparent that each person taken was assigned a number. Syd's growing frustration only heightened her anxiety. "We need to play their game, or we risk heading in the wrong direction," Roxie interjected, her voice barely above a whisper compared to Syd's intensity. "Numbers in groups of four... Perhaps it's a code."

Glancing at Savannah, Roxie recognized the situation's urgency and felt compelled to assist while she still felt capable. Exchanging knowing glances with Spencer and then with Syd, she conveyed her determination before hurrying to aid Savannah. Determined, she sought out someone to provide medical attention for the injured models. Upon her return, Roxie brought along a medic employed by Interpol, a backup arranged by Klaus. Knowing the medic would require support, Roxie positioned herself to assist. Savannah tended to the young woman with a hip wound, while Roxie focused on applying pressure to the abdomen wounds of a young man, using whatever materials were available. The medic issued urgent instructions. "Grab some of the wrappings from my bag," he instructed Savannah sternly, his tone serious as he turned to address the model Roxie was assisting. With a calm demeanor, Roxie gently reassured the young model before her, even as blood continued to seep over her hands, forcing her to swiftly replace fabric after fabric—a process that unsettled her. Her hands trembled with unease, and she felt certain she was as pale as the floor beneath her, yet she remained focused on the individual in front of her, determined to provide whatever comfort she could. Amidst the chaos, her eyes welled with tears for Jane, though she pushed aside her own emotions to tend to the injured.
with: Spencer/Savvy Misty Gray ; Syd Pyroclast
mentions: Dearly departed Pyroclast ; Melanin-Gxdess

Waiting in Someone's Car
(please don't stab her)
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Jeanie Porter ​

It was out of character for her to connect with her father on an emotional level like she was experiencing now. Any more sentimental gestures, and she was sure she'd have to sabotage the moment by blurting out something she only partially meant, just to push him away. Her purpose here was to see Jane, after all. Glancing across the room, Jeanie couldn't shake the sinking feeling that achieving her goal of seeing her sister would become increasingly difficult. Until... she suddenly felt uneasy. Anxious, even. While she had been feeling that way since before setting foot in this place, this sensation didn't seem like her own. She wondered if Jane was still nervous about going on stage and if she was somehow absorbing some of her twin's anxiety.

As she turned to face her father, a sense of foreboding washed over her. His expression bore an unmistakable urgency, causing her muscles to tense. "Danger," her mind whispered. Observing her father push himself away from the wall, he instructed her to join J.J. Jeanie’s face scrunched, ready to tell him that was the last place she wanted to be but the look that crossed his face told her that she needed to take him seriously. With a firm directive to leave immediately, she hesitated, feeling rooted in place. As her father hurried off, leaving her with a lingering sense of concern, thoughts of Jane surged to the forefront of her mind. What if that intuition was right? Scanning the room anxiously, she searched for her brother, her palms moist against her jeans. Confusion engulfed her, and the urge to flee became difficult to ignore.

Jeanie turned once more, scanning the room for J.J., who was stationed by the bar, seemingly oblivious to the unfolding events, as usual. A guard nearby was scrutinizing her with undue attention, likely on orders from her father to keep an eye on her. Fantastic. Jeanie resolved to shake them off somehow. She had no intention of involving J.J. in the current situation; he would likely panic. She'd deceive the guard and slip away unnoticed. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she ambled towards her brother, deliberately taking her time, all the while stealing glances at the tense scene involving her parents, Spencer, and Savvy. Her mother's tear-streaked face, Savvy's strained expression, and her father's rigid posture painted a grim picture. Jeanie desperately hoped for some sort of misunderstanding until a familiar sound brought her to a sudden halt.

Music filled the air, mingling with the lively chatter of the crowd. To the untrained ear, the sound might have been mistaken for something innocuous—a firework, a car backfiring. But Jeanie knew better. Every nerve in her body jolted as she scanned the room, her senses on high alert. She made her way toward J.J., who was engrossed in conversation with Michael and Lucas, two people she doubted she'd see again after tonight if she could help it. Catching sight of her, J.J.'s expression shifted from jovial to alarmed, nearly choking on his drink. "J-Jeanie! What are you-?" he stuttered, but she had no patience for his questions. "Save it!" she hissed, urgency lacing her tone. "You boys need to find somewhere safe."

Jeanie was stepping out of her comfort zone and being nice, a gesture not typical of her, but she knew it was necessary. Her parents would surely appreciate her efforts. Not that it mattered to her at all. "Something's happening, I don't know what, but you guys need to find a guard and get out of here, now!" she insisted, her tone sharp. J.J.'s stunned expression grated on her nerves. "Just go, J! Take them with you!" she ordered, before pivoting to make her way toward where her parents had been. Chaos had erupted, with people being hurriedly but systematically evacuated from the building. The once glamorous atmosphere now reeked of fear. Despite every instinct screaming at her to flee, Jeanie plunged into the crowd. She shrugged off her jacket, opting for a black shirt to blend in better as she navigated through the mass of bodies, feeling as though they were being herded like cattle, perhaps to their demise.

Despite several attempts to force her way through the crowd towards where her parents had been, Jeanie found herself repeatedly pushed back, unable to reach them. It became evident that reaching their location was futile, and their whereabouts were now unknown. Had they slipped away behind the curtains? Frustration boiled over on her fourth attempt, leading Jeanie to shove a guest to the ground in a desperate outburst, sparking panic in the process. This fucked everything up as she was carted outside in the middle of a group of people out the front entrance with no way of getting back inside without the guards seeing her — where she’d be stuck being watched like the rest. "Fuck!" she exclaimed in exasperation, her mind racing for a solution. Jane was somewhere. But she wasn’t here, was she? Jeanie’s eyes burned at the thought of something happening to her twin sister as the uneasy feeling settled further in her chest. Panic gnawed at the back of her mind, clawing at her skull with painful urgency, demanding recognition amidst the chaos. Despite the turmoil, she appeared strangely composed, almost unnervingly so. Too calm. Too... rational. Yet, Jane was in danger. This wasn't the moment for reckless actions or threats. Clutching at her chest, Jeanie scanned the surroundings, her eyes settling on the parking lot. With no clear plan in mind, she began to walk, feeling utterly powerless in the face of the unfolding chaos—until she caught sight of her father's car, sitting there like a beacon of hope amidst the turmoil…

An idea sparked in her mind, crystallizing into a plan. It would demand patience, a virtue she possessed in limited supply. But for Jane, she would wait.
was with: Sydward Pyroclast
GTFO: Lucas Misty Gray , Michael Pyroclast , J.J. (Meh)

 

[Misty Gray]

Hard Rock Cafe
~ Piccadilly Circus, London ~

Liam Callahan​

Liam smiled when Cassie said the restaurant was perfect. "The third date, yeah?" he repeated her words about when fancy dinners were more appropriate. "I will keep that in mind. Just in case I impress you enough to get that far," he told her. The fact she linked her arm with his was a good sign he hadn't messed up yet. They'd been as physically close as this before, but now they were on a date their contact felt deeper to him.

Cassie said both post-meal options were good and suggested they waited to see where the night took them. Liam's family was a mixed bag of organised or spontaneous siblings. Liam tended to deviate more towards planning everything, like Savannah did. But tonight, it seemed like he needed to be more inclined to be spontaneous, taking a leaf from Emery's book. "That works for me. We'll see how we feel after dinner," he agreed.

As they were shown to their booth by the hostess, Liam waited for Cassie to slide into her seat before he sat across from her. The rock music playing in the restaurant was a little loud, so Liam knew he'd need to make sure he spoke up, given his calm and soft-spoken voice. "I know I mentioned going to a live band, but if we don't go down that route, the music in here kind of ticks off that box for us anyway," he joked.

Liam took a moment to look over the menu, quickly deciding what he was going to order. "I think I'm going for the steak burger. What are you fancying?" he curiously asked her.

Whilst they waited for the waiter to come take their order, he smiled at Cassie. "So, tell me about your family. I've already met your mother, of course. But what about your dad and brothers? I've never had chance to speak with any of them. Are they as intimidating as Sarah?" he asked, grinning back at her. "Not that I'm the kind of guy to upset a girl's family!"

neverbackdown (Cassie)

 

[Pyroclast]

The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Michael Zegarra​

Part of the trouble with reuniting with the wider family was that now Michael and Collin would have more people to come out to. Michael had already decided that he was ready to take the plunge - as ready as he could be, anyway - but Collin seemed to wrestle with it more than he did, and now that they were in the company of more people who knew them before the split, part of Michael worried he would retreat further into the closet. He couldn’t help but think Collin wouldn’t particularly like J.J. commenting on how popular he seemed, in case it insinuated something…Maybe he ought to stop expressing excitement to see him?

Picturing Lucas and J.J. up on the runway wasn’t difficult. They were both handsome young men and for the short time Michael had known them as adults, they always managed to look stylish, even when dressing down. But the thought of Lucas making a fool of himself on the stage did make him giggle. “Hey, the world could always use a little more comedy,” he said with a grin, and then laughed at J.J.’s answer. “You two could walk down together at the end of the show, both of you tripping on each other’s heels!” When the question turned to him, Michael shook his head and leaned back. “Ah, I don’t know…there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for charity, but I’m best on the organising side of things. Save the runway for the pretty ones like you, J.J.!”

A minute went by and Michael noticed that they’d all finished their drinks. With it being his round, he turned around to get the bartender’s attention and put three refills on their tab. But while he was waiting for the drinks to be made, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted some kind of commotion. When he turned, he saw Roxie and Savannah, both of them fretting. Spencer and Syd then strode over to them along with a few guards, and Spencer got his gun out. “Guys,” Michael alerted Lucas and J.J., sitting upright in his seat. “Something’s happening.” The music and lights and the models on the runway still held the attention of most of the room, but they weren’t enough to distract Michael from the scene developing in the corner. He got up out of his seat. “What’s going on? Is that - doesn’t that door go to the dressing room?”

There had now been a long gap where no more models had entered the runway, and the models who had already come out were now realising that they couldn’t get back into the dressing room, and were standing confused on the stage. Now that the guard had managed to open the other door to the dressing room, Syd, Roxie, Savannah and Spencer had all spilled inside, while the guards surrounding it had begun to disperse, all speaking into their walkie-talkies. Collin hadn’t come out yet. Neither had Jane or Arabella. Just as Michael was about to try and run over to see if they were okay, J.J.’s sister, Jeanie, appeared in front of them. He hadn’t seen her for years, but he recognised her just enough to know who she was. She informed them that they had to find a guard and leave. “What’s happening?” he asked her. “What about -”

A hand suddenly landed on Michael’s shoulder and he looked up to see a guard trying to usher the three of them out along with the bar staff. “M-my friend’s in there,” Michael said, pointing to the dressing room. “And J.J.’s sister - I just -”

“You lot need to get out, now,” the guard commanded, practically pushing them off their barstools.

“No, I-I need to see if they’re okay,” Michael argued. He was attempting to escape the current of people the guard had pushed them into, and turned around to see if J.J. and Lucas were still with him. He had been looking forward to seeing Collin up on the runway all day, but now, he just wanted to see him safe.

Interactions
Bellz J.J., Jeanie
Misty Gray Lucas

Danny Vaughan​

Getting to see Savannah perform was one of Danny’s favourite things in the world. When he had first met her back in New York City when they were both in their early twenties, he knew she was a star in the making. And every year since they had reunited, she had just shined more and more. He had planned to bring their children, Lily, Summer and August, along to the show, but then Lily managed to contract chicken pox and had passed it to her two younger siblings. He would have happily stayed home to take care of them, but Sinead and Peter were able to take care of them for the evening, so he decided to come and support his wife and their wider family and friends.

When Savannah came on stage, Danny cheered loudly for the whole time he could see her. Being the professional that she was, she managed not to react, but he just needed her to know that he was there, that he was seeing her, that he adored her. Perhaps he embarrassed her sometimes, but ever since he had survived getting shot in the head at the family’s halloween event back in 1985, his frontal lobe had taken some damage that overrode his inhibitions, filter, rationality, mood and decision-making skills. He often acted or spoke without thinking, and even though sometimes it could get him into trouble, Savannah had stuck with him throughout everything and he figured that if she really had a problem with the way he was now, she would have left long ago. Instead, he just felt loved, cherished and cared for, and endeavoured to make her feel the same.

His eyes were on her the whole time, except for when he would turn to the other people on his table and point to her, saying, “That’s my wife,” - something he needed everyone to know.
He saw her work the runway, he saw he capture the audience…and then he saw her struggle to get back into the dressing room. He saw her and Roxie begin to fret. He saw Spencer march over to them, and the guards, and Syd’s frantic shouting. He wasn’t sure why he himself wasn’t getting up - and then, he wasn’t sure when he did, until suddenly he was standing inside the room where four models were on the ground, covered in blood, his wife holding one of them up and ordering the guards to find help for them. “Savannah?”

Nothing made sense. It almost seemed like a repeat of what happened on the night he was shot, except that for him, all memory of that night had been erased from his mind. There was a medic there - or Danny assumed that’s what they were, given that they were the one taking control of the situation - but Danny instinctively moved to be beside Savannah instead. “I’m helping you,” he told her.

“You!” the medic called out, and when Danny looked up, he saw a finger pointing at him. “This one over here. Take this and apply pressure. Get moving!” The medic threw what appeared to be a sort of towel at him, and Danny had to leave Savannah’s side to tend to one of the other models, a young man with blood gushing from his leg. There was blood everywhere, and shouting and chaos and tension. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Danny said. “Look at me.” He smiled at the boy. “I got shot in the head once, and I survived. You’ll be fine - you just have to believe it. I’ve got you.”

Interactions
Misty Gray Savannah, Spencer
Bellz Roxie

 

[Misty Gray]

The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Logan Thomson​

When Klaus questioned him about before and after his conversation with Syd, Logan thought for a moment but then shrugged his shoulders as his expression showed he was thinking back. "Nothing stood out as odd to me before the conversation. Everyone showing up was on the guest list, so there wasn't any aggro with anyone trying to get inside without an invite. A few of them didn't like being patted down, but that's snooty, rich folk for ya, right?" he remarked.

Logan nodded in agreement when Wesley pointed out nobody could have slipped through the front entrance without any of security noticing. "Yeah, what he said," he told Klaus, pointing at Wesley. Klaus reassured Wesley he wasn't placing blame. "The entrance was watched at all times. My post was covered whilst I was speaking with Syd. So unless they were on the guest list, nobody got in through the main entrance," he assured the two men,

Logan nodded in agreement when Klaus drew their attention to whatever was unfolding at the dressing room. It certainly didn't look good. Through their earpieces, Klaus and Wesley heard Spencer requested they join them in the dressing room, briefly explaining there'd been an attack and kidnappings.

Afterwards, Spencer spoke through to Logan directly and told him to check the situation outside and find out if anyone had seen anything suspicious. Logan left the two Interpol men and quickly made his way outside as instructed.

Bellz (Klaus, Wesley)

The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Spencer King and Savannah Vaughan​

Spencer heard Syd call his name, prompting him to rush to his counterpart's side. He looked at the envelope in the man's hand, which was addressed to their two families. "A fucking note!" he grumbled, wishing the attackers had stuck around to give their message in person before he killed them.

He looked curiously as the pieces of paper fell to the floor and prompted Syd to have to scoop them up. When the Irishman then told everyone it was just four numbers, Spencer looked confused. "What the fuck are we meant to do with that?" he rhetorically asked, though he figured they were being lured into some kind of puzzle. That, or simply having their time wasted. Syd screwed up the papers and tossed them away. The man had a temper and impatience that made present-day Spencer seem calm, but he understood the man's frustration. "I don't think we have time not to play their games either," he pointed out to Syd.

Spencer stopped short of saying more as Roxie took the lead on assuring Syd they had to play the game and figure out what the numbers were for. The only thing that came to mind initially was that it could be a PIN number. "Could it be for a safe or a padlock? Or even a mobile phone?" he asked, hoping to jog anyone's memory if they'd seen any of those seemingly out of place. Or at all, even. "The club must have a safe somewhere to stash their takings. And I saw one of those number keypads on the beer cellar door too."

Pyroclast (Syd) Bellz (Roxie)
Bellz (Maybe Klaus and Wesley could enter around this time?)

*************​

Savannah could feel her hands trembling as she applied some pressure to the young model's hip wound. Still, she tried not to show her worry for the poor girl's sake. Hearing the medic's stern instruction caught her off-guard and she gasped before turning to the source of the voice. She nodded and quickly moved to grab the wrapping. She then used it to continue putting pressure on the wound. "My cousin is a doctor and he's dealt with much worse than this. You're going to be okay," she reassured the model. "I know it hurts, but try take deep, controlled breaths. Okay?" she encouraged the terrified young woman. "You looked beautiful on the catwalk today, by the way. If... If modelling is a career you want, then don't let this put you off. Keep doing it," she reassured her, wanting to keep the girl calm more than anything.

Hearing Danny's voice, Savanah felt a wave of relief overcome her. Knowing her beloved husband was by her side made her feel safer, despite the chaos and turmoil around them. "Thank you, Dan--" she began to accept his help but the medic dragged him in to tend to one of the other injured models. She looked at her husband as he didn't hesitate to go help. She was sure he was going to be okay doing so, especially when she overheard him reassuring the young man he was tending to.

Bellz (Roxie), Pyroclast (Danny)

 

[Bellz]

The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~


Klaus Jäger
Wesley Roberts
​

Klaus focused intently as Logan recounted his observations from his post at the front security. Nothing had seemed out of place until their conversation, as everyone arriving was accounted for on the guest list. That was reassuring. A slight grin crossed Klaus's face as he responded to Logan's remark about wealthy individuals, saying, "You hit the nail on the head there. They're not exactly keen on adhering to proper security protocols... at least not discreetly." Wesley chimed in, affirming that no one could have slipped past unnoticed at the entrance, which Logan supported by mentioning his vigilant surveillance during his conversation with Syd.

Despite the sense of reassurance, when Klaus redirected the attention of the two younger men toward the commotion further away, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease about the unfolding events. Before he could rationalize with himself, attempting to convince himself that he might be overthinking things, Spencer's voice came through his earpiece and Wesley's, urging them both to head to the dressing room. The trio split up, with Klaus issuing rapid-fire orders over a separate radio channel. "10-38, 10-200 requested at..." he recited the address swiftly before adding, "Medic on standby, we need your services immediately." When the medic inquired about the number of patients at the scene, Klaus couldn't provide a definite answer yet. Wesley deftly maneuvered through the crowd, gently clearing a path as they hurried toward the dressing room.

"Unknown at this time, bring as much as you can with you. We’ll recount patients as soon as you’re over here," Klaus instructed the medic. Upon entering the room with Wesley, Klaus's eyes widened at the sight of four individuals on the floor, each with gunshot wounds. "What the hell is this?" Wesley exclaimed, scrutinizing the papers. The two agents cautiously approached the agitated men, fully aware of the potential danger. Wesley maintained a safe distance from Spencer, who seemed puzzled by the contents of the papers. It sounded like some kind of code or series of numbers.

Klaus surveyed the scene before him, preparing to radio for an ETA on the medic when Roxie entered the room, accompanied by the medic. His attention shifted to Savannah and Danny, feeling a wave of relief that he wouldn't need to make another call, at least for the time being, thus avoiding tying up the radio channels. "Ambulances are on the way," Klaus announced to them. "They should arrive in a few minutes."

As Klaus pondered the significance of the numbers on the abandoned papers, his thoughts drifted to Spencer's inquiry about a safe. "I'm not certain where the owner keeps the safe, but he's here. It might be worth checking the cellar," Klaus suggested calmly, mindful of maintaining composure amid the situation. Wesley nodded in agreement. "We had a brief conversation with the owner not long ago. We could also try dustin' any recent fingerprints with a kit we have. That way, we won't need to attempt so many combinations. I'll make the call to request it." Wesley proposed as he reached for his cellphone, swiftly dialing the number.

Klaus turned his gaze to Spencer and Syd, his expression serious yet compassionate. Despite the gravity of the situation, there was a gentleness in his eyes. "Does the note contain any additional information? Anything on the inside or outside of the package that might provide clues about what they want you to discover?" he inquired. Regardless of their response, Klaus maintained his professionalism. "I'll organize a search party. They can't have gone too far. We'll locate them all, safe and sound. I give you my word."
with: Syd Pyroclast ; Spencer Misty Gray

 

[Misty Gray]

Old Distillery
~ Undisclosed, London ~

Zachary Costa
...and Grant​

After a fifteen-minute drive that no doubt felt much longer for Jane and Ari, the van eventually slowed to a stop. There was a silence before the driver opened the rear doors to the see the four in the back. Ahead of them were the large wooden doors of a rundown distillery. Zachary grabbed Ari's arm to pull her out of the vehicle, followed by Grant who practically dragged Jane out and caused her to stumbled onto the floor. Zachary snapped his focus onto Grant who forcefully pulled her to her feet. "Come on," he hissed at his colleague as they led the two worried young women into the poorly lit building. If they had chance to look, they would see they were in some kind of abandoned industrial estate.

Jane and Ari were dragged into the first room to the right of them. It was a relatively large room, filled with copper distilling machinery and various wooden kegs stacked around the room. Everything around them dusty and dirty, with cobwebs clinging between the structural beams and equipment. Zachary made Ari sit down with her back against the cold copper machinery. He then proceeded to securely tie her hands behind her back with the rope securing them to some of the pipes. Grant followed suit, sitting Jane a couple of feet away from Ari. The man made a point of taking his time, getting up close to Jane as he purposely ran his hands along the exposed skin of her shoulders. The single lit lightbulb above them was enough to show her the lustful look in the burly man's eyes.

"Are you done?" Zachary prompted Grant as he now stood over him.

"What's the rush? We might as well have a bit of fun whilst we can!" Grant protested.

Zachary was about to argue when his mobile phone began ringing in his back pocket. As soon as he took hold of the device, he saw the coded caller ID flashing up on the screen. "It's the boss. Get up," he informed him. It was enough to distract Grant from his lewd thoughts and snap back into action. The only words Zachary spoke during the call were "yes" and "okay" as he listened to his superior. Once the call ended, he placed the phone back in his pocket. "Get the jerry can. We've been assigned Plan B," he knowingly informed Grant. Neither of the scenarios they were prepared for were good for the two fearful young women, but Zachary knew their victims had a better chance than Shona and Collin would get. It also made his own life easier.

Whilst Grant went to do as he was told, Zachary crouched down in front of Jane and Ari. "Who do you think might try to save you?" he asked them. As he spoke, they would see through the opposite window as Grant walked past outside towards the van. "If they're smart enough, you might get out of this," he told them.

When Grant returned, he told Zachary to move away before he set about pouring petrol from the doorway in a trail leading up to the two young women, whose bodies he proceeded to douse in the flammable liquid. "At least you'll get warmed up, ladies. It's freezing in here!" he said, chuckling as he handed Zachary a roll of gaffer tape.

Pyroclast (Jane) Melanin-Gxdess (Ari)
Mention: Bellz (Klaus will eventually be going here)

 

[Misty Gray]

Paper Mill
~ Undisclosed, London ~

Damian Nicolosi​

Damian couldn't help but laugh when Shona said threats would have been enough to get what they wanted. "Mrs. King. I don't hurt and kill before because I have to. I do it because I want to. It just so happens my boss wants to prove he means business and will pay me to do what I enjoy. Threats alone show compromise, but there is no compromise in this business. Your family and the Irish lot need to realise there is no place for them in London. The faster they learn, the better. Your death should knock Spencer down a few pegs!"

Damian nodded in agreement when Julia said it wouldn't be fair to Shona to release the others. He grinned along as Julia assured them they were going to have a great time. When Collin spoke up the assure Shona he wasn't leaving her, Damian pulled a pouting expression to mock them. "There's the spirit. You will both suffer and die together in solidarity. We're going to have a wonderful time!"

When they eventually reached their destination, Damian led Collin out of the van. The driver gripped his gun as he covered Damian and Julia in case either of their victims chose to try anything stupid. "Did you ever think you'd die in a paper mill?" he cheerfully asked as he nudged Collin forward towards the entrance. "This is the best place to be if you want to start a fire quickly. How long do you think it'll take to burn it down completely? I guess you'll never know the answer, but I will," he taunted Collin and Shona, glanced to Julia with a devious smirk on his face.

Bellz (Julia, Collin) Pyroclast (Shona)

 

[Pyroclast]

Old Distillery
~ Undisclosed, London ~

Jane Porter​

There was no way for Jane to know what was to come, but that didn't matter; the moment the vehicle came to a rolling stop, the dread inside her exploded into new levels of fear. She screamed when Zachary grabbed Ari and pulled her by force out of the van, so terrified that she barely registered being dragged out herself until her knees hit the floor. The pain stunned her, and the next thing she knew she was shuffling behind the heels of the man who had her in his grip. Her tearful eyes were pinned on Arabella in front of her. She was desperate to hold her friend's hand, to create some measure of solidarity and strength between them. It wouldn't do anything, of course, besides bring each of them some fraction of comfort, but that was all Jane could think to do.

The doors the men took them through opened to a large, dimly-lit hall of some kind. Jane didn't know what it was, but it was cold and dank inside, and for all the copper vessels and winding pipes, could have been the laboratory of a mad scientist. There was nobody about that she could see. Even if there was, Jane didn't trust they would help. Whatever this place was, it seemed to have been chosen by their assailants as somewhere they wouldn't be interrupted.

The men went about tying both herself and Arabella to one of the strange vessels. The metal was like ice against the bare skin of her back and she tried to sit forward as far as she could to avoid it. However, the cold copper wasn't what sent a shiver down her spine. The man who was tying her up began sliding his hands across her shoulders, making her hairs stand on end. So far she had been grabbed, restrained, dragged, thrown to the floor and tied up. But nothing made her feel quite as worthless as when his eyes poured over her with that filthy, lustful gaze.

The mobile phone rang and for a moment, there was a flash of hope. Somehow Jane imagined it to be her father, calling to negotiate or something. But when she heard Zachary explain that it was the boss, that hope all but shrivelled and died. After the way Grant had leered at her, Jane didn't even want to look at Arabella while the two men talked. She just stared down at the dusty floor between her legs, whimpering, wishing she was back home with Lucia and Sebastian and Bo-Bo. Fresh tears poured down her cheeks as she realised she may never see them again.

By now, Jane's mind was so distraught that she could hardly focus on what was going on. Even when one of the men crouched down before her and Ari and began to speak to them, Jane couldn't look. She just recoiled and continued to stare at the floor, biting her lip to suppress her whimpers in case they prompted the man to hurt her. "M-my dad will come," she managed to choke out. She sobbed freely for a few seconds before shouting, "He's going to c-come, and - and he's going to KILL YOU!"

The restraints scraped against her wrists as she squirmed on the floor. Ice cold metal, rough rope, dust and dirt everywhere. Her arms hurt from being stretched backwards around the big copper machine. And her dress was too tight. The unknown environment, the dread, discomfort and intimidation were all leading to a system overload in Jane's head; she howled as she fought against her restraints, completely overwhelmed and out of control. Her reaction didn't change when she saw the silhouette of one of the men pouring petrol from a jerry can onto the floor. He was creeping closer and closer to where she and Arabella were tied up, leaving behind a trail of flammable liquid. Even in her all-consuming panic, Jane knew what was happening. But it still shocked her when the man lifted the jerry can and proceeded to douse her in petrol.

Jane screamed and squeezed her eyes tight. The smell of petrol was upsetting to her senses on a normal day; she even stayed out of her dad's garage to avoid it. Now, her hair was slick with oil. It stung her eyes, coated her mouth, soaked through her dress. A scream tried to escape her but the overpowering taste of petrol caught in the back of her throat turned it into a desperate coughing fit, which transformed into violent retching.

"Don't," she rasped. "Don't, please, please don't..." There was a burning in her chest from the gasoline she had accidentally swallowed and the taste of petrol now mixed with that of vomit in her throat. Her sobbing hurt now, but she still couldn't stop. "I want my mam."

Interactions
Misty Gray Grant, Zachary
Melanin-Gxdess Arabella

 

[Pyroclast]

The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Syd Porter​

Syd's head was whirring as Roxie and Spencer began discussing what the four digits on the scraps of paper could mean. They were right, of course; they had no option but to play along with the kidnapper's game. All they had was a cryptic clue that they had a limited time to solve. Every second that passed put Jane, Arabella, Shona and Collin in further danger. He couldn't help but picture his daughter…

What Roxie and Spencer were suggesting did make sense: codes for a safe or keypad were commonly four digits long, and given that the numbers weren't enough information on their own, they could only be a key to unlocking some second step. Syd repeatedly ran a hand through his hair as his tried to block out the screams and cries of the injured models on the floor. If he wasn't so occupied, he would have joined Savannah, Roxie and Danny in assisting the medics, but as it stood he only had one problem on his mind that he could focus on, and that was how to get his daughter back.

Wesley and Klaus entered the dressing room, then, making the place feel suddenly all too crowded. They approached Syd and Spencer, both visibly alarmed by the scene, but Syd was just staring fixedly at the floor, pulling at a fistful of his greying hair. The two Interpol agents began speaking to Spencer about contacting the owner about the location of the safe, with Wesley then proceeding to make a phone call to request a finger print dusting kit. In one swift, almost violent motion, Syd snatched the phone from Wesley's hands and slammed it down on the counter. "All that's gonna do is tell us what numbers they keyed in, not the order they did it," he snapped. "You need a...we need a master key or something, that the safe should've come with to reset it. Unless he's a complete idiot, owner should've kept it, 'case he smacks his head and forgets the code. Find the owner, get the key, break into the goddamn fucking safe or the cellar or whatever, and bring back whatever the fuck they've hidden in there. Got it?"

His hands were shaking as they returned to his head. He wasn't angry at Wesley, or anyone in that room. He was just angry. Furious. Near out of his mind with distress. Klaus asked him if there was any more information given, and Syd shook his head. He reached for the envelope and tore it wide open, revealing nothing but some handwriting on one side. "Just our names. Porters and Kings." As before, Syd screwed up the envelope and tossed it over his shoulder. "So they know our names, but what's new? I bet I can tell you theirs, too. It's the fucking Carters."

Syd looked down at the injured models being tended to, and thought about the gunshots. "Guns, not knives..." he muttered under his breath. Most of the truly sadistic people he had known tended to prefer knives. There was more so-called 'fun' to be had with a knife. Guns could smash skulls, knock out teeth, shoot bullets and burn rings onto a victim's face, but those were all aggressive, wild actions. Knives on the other hand...they could be delicate. Slow. They were the weapon of choice for anyone who loved to really play with their victim. Yet, none of the victims had been stabbed, only shot.

He was still deliberating over who exactly could have done it when Klaus mentioned organising a search party. Syd looked up at Spencer and Klaus. In a moment of sudden realisation, he blurted out, "I have their registration numbers." He stared at them for a few seconds as his thoughts caught up to him. "I could - I could -" his hands gestured frantically and he began to pace as he thought about who was at his home. Lucia and Sebastian were being minded and were out of the house - not that he would have called them anyway. "I could call my guard, get him to find the file I have on them, the registration numbers, we could track all their vehicles down until we find the one that's got everyone inside." He snatched up Wesley's phone again from where he had slammed it down on the dresser and began to dial in the number. But his fingers were trembling so vigorously that he kept entering it wrong and he was on the verge of tears by the time he got through.

"Chase, I need you to go into my office...No, it's not, so just fucking listen to me a second. Are you going?" He proceeded to explain, in desperate, semi-coherent fragments, what had happened and what he needed. By the time he was off the phone, he was breathing with his entire chest, fighting to stave off an oncoming breakdown. He looked to Klaus and Spencer with wild, tearful eyes and said, "Get your men, too. I want everyone. Fucking everyone."

Interactions
Misty Gray Spencer
Bellz Wesley, Klaus

 

[Pyroclast]

Spoiler: Trigger warning

Allusion to sexual violence

Paper Mill
~ Undisclosed, London ~

Shona King​

The vicious laughter from Julia and Damian elicited a scowl from Shona, and she tightened her hold on Collin when she felt him flinch. Damian began to explain to her why only sending a threat was not enough of a message. That they never did anything by halves, never bothered with compromise. That he took pleasure in the jobs he was tasked with. Shona was sure he would do it for free. "London is our home," Shona growled at him. "It always was and it always will be. You can't keep us away from our own home city. And if you don't think my husband would avenge my death, then you don't know him!"

Julia spoke up then, arguing that allowing her to sacrifice herself for the release of the others wouldn't be fair, and that she shouldn't overlook that Collin was a man, and not a child who needed defending. "None of this is fair!" Shona fought back, her voice beginning to tremble now. "But at least I chose this life! I'm the only one who had a choice - the others are innocents, they were never a part of this -" Collin managed to release himself from her tight hold enough to turn to face her. She saw the brave facade he was putting on - and all the fear that lay beneath it. His brave words put tears in her eyes and she turned back to face Julia and Damian again. "Please, please let him get out, let the girls go and whatever you want to do to them, do it all to me. I'll take it all!"

They didn't let Collin out. He remained in the van with her all the way to their destination. Shona's brain was in overdrive trying to work out how to get at least Collin if not both of them out of the situation. She was sure Spencer would be doing everything he possibly could to track them down, but she had no idea where she was, so why should he? Unless he or Interpol had pre-emptively placed a tracker on all the Carter vehicles, they might not even know where to begin.

Anyway, she wasn't going to let herself succumb to pessimism. She had to protect Collin. The brief period of fresh air walking from the van to the paper mill was torturous, knowing that it may be her last time ever seeing daylight, ever feeling the breeze against her skin. Being able to see a direction to run in, but having a gun trained on her to stop her from trying. It seemed like her last chance to escape her fate, yet she couldn't take it. Damian told them they were at a paper mill, and once again Shona wracked her brain trying to think of any such mill in London that was relatively short drive from Covent Garden. If it had been abandoned some time in the last 12 years surely it would have been around when Shona had last lived in the city...so where had there been a paper mill?

But then Damian mentioned fire, and Shona's train of thought screeched to a halt. By now, her only way of keeping from breaking down about leaving her children and husband behind became her concern for Collin. She had to see him get out alive. She had to. She stopped and turned to square up to Damian and Julia. "This stops now," she demanded, and reached out blindly to place a protective hand on Collin's chest. "Let him go. You can do whatever you want to me, and I won't fight it and I won't scream and I won't tell a soul. Torture me - use whatever tools, just do whatever you want to me!" Tears began falling from her eyes. "Take me to another location so when you release him he can't tell anyone where I am," she continued to beg, her voice getting more and more desperate. "You can keep me for as long as you want. You...y-you can...have me. And I won't try to hurt you, I won't. Please. Please...just let him go."

Interactions
Bellz Julia
Misty Gray Damian

 

[Bellz]

The Statesman
~ South Bank, London ~

Dawson Rogers ​

Relief washed over him as he realized that someone like Emery wasn't completely put off by a guy like him — especially one who was recently divorced. Even though the divorce wasn't his fault, it still wasn't an easy topic to broach with the opposite sex, often pushing them away instead of drawing them closer. "As am I," Dawson murmured, not hesitating to acknowledge that he was enjoying the evening, particularly in her company. He flashed her a broad smile, mirroring the warmth she exuded. When Dawson turned the conversation back to her, he did so without any preconceived notions or judgments about her dating life. After all, who was he to make assumptions? It wasn't his place to dictate how she lived her life.

"Give it a little more time; I'm sure you'll have quite the fan base in a few weeks," he teased in return. Despite the banter and playful remarks, a hint of the same hesitation lingered within him, causing his smile to dim slightly, matching the gravity of the moment once again. As she listed off the things she lacked — no marriage, no children, no lasting relationships — Emery's admission that she hadn't found that special connection yet hung in the air. Dawson studied her intently, observing the beautiful woman before him. She let out an awkward laugh, perhaps trying to brush off any uncomfortable emotions, as she confessed that he was already more intriguing than most others she had encountered.

Dawson chuckled, a soft, airy sound that gently moved his shoulders. With a shake of his head, he wore a wide smile. "I don't think anyone has ever described me as interesting before," he remarked, feeling a warmth rise in his cheeks. Meeting Emery's gaze, he continued, "Maybe it's too soon to say, but I think we have a connection." He hoped he wasn't overstepping, wasn't foolishly grasping at the possibility of love once more. Yet, as he observed Emery across the table, he couldn't imagine the world treating her harshly. She exuded a fiery spirit, from her hair color to her demeanor. He had seen the flames flicker in her eyes when they first met, the smoldering embers that lingered there still. Dawson was almost certain that if the world dared to toy with her, she would ignite it with a single glance. Enthralled by that intensity, even if it had been directed at him before, he found himself captivated by her gaze.

"I'm certainly not a tough guy, but knowing you find them boring works in my favor," Dawson remarked with a crooked grin. "Bookworm through and through, though if I ever needed to throw a punch or two..." He paused, considering his words. Violence wasn't his style. He had endured his ex-wife's drunken outbursts without raising a hand, convinced that striking a woman was never an option. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I hope I'll never have to throw a punch on your behalf. I'm sure you could probably stick up for yourself better than I could." His smile tightened slightly, requiring effort to maintain its composure.

"So, family? I remember you mentioning where you are staying is your younger brother's. Is he your only sibling?" Dawson steered the conversation in a different direction.
with: Emery Misty Gray

 

[Bellz]

Earlier in the Evening...

Greenwich Park Playground
~ Greenwich Park, London ~

Rachel Fitz
Ft. Laura Fitz​

Despite the overwhelming sensation in her chest, urging her to fetch Laura from the park due to an inexplicable sense of déjà vu, Rachel persisted and inquired about the man's name. She prided herself on her manners, never one to depart a house party without expressing gratitude or without learning someone's name, no matter how brief the encounter. Was it her upbringing that instilled such values? Rachel couldn't say for certain. Yet, something within her urged her to embody the best version of herself, seizing the second chance at life bestowed upon her following her hospital recovery. Despite the faint warning bells ringing in her mind, cautioning her of the unsettling familiarity teetering on perilous, Rachel remained resolute, perhaps to her folly.

Riley had repeatedly cautioned her to be wary of others in the city. She had adamantly advised against venturing into London altogether. Twice already, Rachel had encountered individuals who left her feeling uneasy. Yet, she couldn't shake the sense of safety she currently felt. At least, not at this moment. Rachel was ready to confront any potential danger head-on if it were to arise. After all, she had more than just Laura's belongings in the stroller; Riley had equipped her with ample knowledge to navigate such situations.

The transformation in the man's demeanor was striking, akin to a shift from night to day, as his expression evolved from one of sorrow to something entirely different. Rachel scrutinized his smile, searching for any hint of insincerity in his sudden joy. Was that even the appropriate term for it? Her gaze followed the lines of his smile, traveling upward to meet his eyes. There was an air of youthful innocence in that smile that caught her attention. However, Rachel couldn't help but feel a weightiness in the situation, her smile not quite reaching her eyes as she attempted to discern the cause of her unease. With a slight furrow of her brows in confusion, she extended her hand to meet his, giving it a firm shake.

As their hands met, Rachel's gaze immediately fell upon them. The atmosphere seemed to lighten around her, the world tilting slightly as another wave of déjà vu swept over her. Though not an unfamiliar sensation to Rachel, it still left her momentarily speechless. Jeremy Gray introduced himself with a warm smile, appearing notably younger and less somber than just moments before. Rachel glanced at their clasped hands for a brief moment longer before releasing his, her smile widening with a hint of embarrassment as she realized she had lingered a tad longer than usual. With a slight scrunch of her nose in amusement, she attempted to form words, but found herself momentarily at a loss as the world slowly righted itself after the peculiar moment.

His entire demeanor, from the contours of his face to the strands of his hair to the depths of his eyes, held Rachel transfixed. Upon realizing this, she swallowed hard, blinking rapidly for a few moments. She then briefly glanced at Laura who was still playing before shifting her attention back to Jeremy. "Rachel... Fitz," she finally uttered, blinking a few more times as if regaining her bearings. "Forgive my bluntness, Mr. Gray, but I can't shake the feeling of concern for you... Are you going to be alright?" Her smile faded into a more serious expression. "...Would you like me to walk you home? The chill seems to be setting in, especially for Laura."

She couldn't help but wonder if she was being naive, extending the offer to walk the man home. What if his friendly demeanor was just a facade, concealing darker intentions? The notion of him being a serial killer, manipulating her trust to lead her into harm's way, briefly flashed through her mind. Rachel had great intuition; if there was genuine danger, she believed she would have sensed it and backed away. Yet, the thought of accompanying him home after sunset left her uneasy. She tried to mask her concern, but it lingered in her gaze. Despite the potential risks, she felt compelled to offer him help in his time of need. After all, everyone deserved compassion, even from a stranger.
with: Interesting Stranger who better not be a serial killer. BasDorcha

 

[Melanin-Gxdess]

Old Distillery
~Undisclosed Location, London~
Arabella Bellamy

Ari never liked guns. The chaos they brought and how evil they looked. The cold, heavy metal with a perfect little trigger attached whispering for someone to pull it. They were the epitome of danger and evil and she never wanted to be around them. Never in a million years did she think one would be pressed against her temple. She could really feel it now - the small, circular mouth of the gun with a bullet just inches away. Her only hope was that she was somehow worth more alive to them right now than she was dead. There was only a split-second of relief when Julia withdrew her weapon only for another to take her place. The small sliver of hope Ari had quickly disappeared and it only made her tears fall faster. This was a goddamn nightmare. Leaving Germany was the wrong choice.

Damian's voice then rang out, orders leaving his lips. It was obvious to Ari that because she was with Shona and the others her life meant something. The other models, however, it was different. Before she could even process what was happening Damian shot them. Four shots rang out. Five screams echoed throughout the room; one of them Jane's. But Ari? Ari stood there, frozen with fear and worry and confusion. Why was this happening? How were they getting out of it? Were they getting out of it? She could feel the desire to look and see and prove to herself this was a dream. People didn't die in dreams. While she had seen dead bodies before, it was different when they were murdered inches away from you. It's just a dream, you can look, the voice whispered. When she finally did that's when she found her voice. It didn't matter that a gun was still pressed to her head, Ari's hands reached up and she covered her mouth trying to quiet the sobs leaving her throat. These were people who obviously didn't care about the lives of others. What would they do to her next simply for her crying? The man then roughly grabbed Ari and tugged her from the dressing room. It wasn't until they were outside and being directed into vans that Ari started fighting back. "No, no, no, no, no, please!" She tried to yank herself out of his grip, thrashing about and shouting at him. It was all to no avail. A few minutes later and she was sitting beside Jane, both fearful of their fate.

They were then forced into a dusty, worn-down building. The fight Ari had in her had disappeared on the ride over and she was stuck again. You're getting out of here. You and Jane and Shona and Collin you're all getting out of here. She was trying to be optimistic, trying to will her thoughts to become true. It had to. Because if it didn't then what? What happens to them now or what was going to happen to them? While trying to push the dark thoughts away she noticed how Grant was touching and gliding his hands across Jane's body; it ignited something in her. "Hey! Asshole! Get your fucking hands off her!" She watched as Zachary spoke to him, unsure if he was also disgusted or simply saying it because he was in charge. Either way, the comment that left Grant's mouth only enraged Arabella further. "Du wirst sterben," she shouted, spitting at his feet. "And I hope it's slowly!" Her attitude shocked her, but she wasn't worried about that at the moment. These men had instilled fear in her for long enough.

While the two of them stepped away, Ari looked over to Jane. The fear on her friend's face matched her own. Something in Ari told her that she needed to put on a brave face instead. Sniffling she tried to offer some sort of reassuring look. "We're gonna be okay," she mouthed, not wanting the men to hear. Zachary then ordered Grant to get a jerry can and Ari's face scrunched up, watching as he departed from view. Meanwhile, Zachary asked them who would come and Jane quickly answered, followed by a threat. Ari opened her mouth to add to it, but her attention was grabbed elsewhere. The sound of pouring liquid was confusing. Her eyes allowed her ears to direct her and when she saw what was happening they grew. It wasn't long before he reached them and doused them in petrol. The smell was strong and caused her to gag. Her lungs felt like they were on fire and she tried to take shorter breaths instead of bigger ones to minimize the smell, but it didn't work. It had gotten into her mouth and no amount of spitting was getting the taste out.

Hearing Jane's voice calling out for her mom is what made Ari look over at her. She was scared. Ari was scared, too, but something about that innocent look on Jane's face took that fear and turned it into anger. She spit at them again; a mixture of thick saliva and petrol. "I hope whoever your boss is know he's going to lose two of his soldiers," she spat. "Because when they find us you're fucked." Whilst Ari didn't know just how much trouble they would actually be in, she was going to pretend to for the sake of Jane. "And when we're free, I'm going to cut your dicks off and force you to eat each others!"

 

[Bellz]

The Ballroom
(main area)
~ Covent Garden, London ~


J.J. Porter
Roxie Porter​

J.J. found it impossible to interject a single word when it came to Jeanie. He wasn’t able to ask any vital questions that he was sure would help him, Lucas, and Michael, in figuring out what to do with the chaos that they erupted around them. She just…left. She said something had happened and that she didn’t know what…but that could have been a lie as far as she was concerned…J.J. wouldn’t put it past her. From every side of the venue, people were being ushered and pushed. J.J. tried to focus his eyes on the stage, where he knew Ari, Jane and the rest were behind it. Jeanie's urgent directive to him resonated sharply, conveying a level of panic he rarely witnessed in her demeanor.

Lucas and Michael mirrored J.J.'s surprise upon seeing Jeanie, though it wasn't entirely unexpected. However, any astonishment quickly dissipated as a guard seized Michael's arm, followed by a heavy grip on J.J.'s shoulder, urging them to move. J.J. forcefully shrugged off the guard's hold, emitting a frustrated growl as he confronted him. Despite his parents' warnings about unfamiliar faces, the man behind him triggered a sense of familiarity."I’m not leaving until I get my sister and my best friend from backstage," J.J. declared, his voice strained, just as the other guard attempted to dislodge Michael from his seat, while another forcibly removed J.J. from his.

J.J.'s attention snapped to Lucas, who no doubt was enduring the same treatment from the guard. Meanwhile, the guard gripping Michael insisted they leave immediately. J.J. shook his head in refusal, but Michael spoke up first, emphasizing the need to ensure their friends' safety backstage. "Let us go!" J.J. ordered, his lips curling into an irritated sneer, the guard's hand was in a vice grip on him but he twisted and turned, trying every avenue to get free.

At last, he broke free. But as he turned, poised to reach for Michael and Lucas, prepared to navigate his way backstage, the swarm of people engulfing him momentarily disoriented him, despite his ability to see over some but not all. Someone collided with him from the left, jolting his shoulder, then again from the right, sending him off balance. He staggered, narrowly avoiding colliding with another person as he searched desperately for his cousin, for Michael. "Lucas!? Michael?!" he called out amidst the throng.

He pushed through, arms extended wide in front of him, navigating the dense crowd of elegantly dressed bodies. The thought crossed his mind: if they weren't cautious, these fine silks and designer wear might soon be stained with blood. Closer and closer to the stage he pressed, a mantra echoing in his mind: "I have to find her. I have to get her out." Ari. He knew his family would handle any trouble Jane encountered, but Ari... she needed him. He had asked too much of her, and now she might face peril because of him. She had followed him here, risking her life.

His chest felt unbearably tight as a hand seized his arm, causing him to startle and whirl around. "J.J.!" His mother's voice sounded strained, her appearance shocking as he took in the sight of Roxie Porter, blood covering her. "Ma!" He cried out, at first wondering if it was her own as he took her face in his hands. But finding no sign of injury in her eyes, only anguish and trepidation, he glanced down at her bloodied hands. She had been helping someone else. "Where is she?" he demanded, his voice strained with tension. J.J.'s eyes stung, but he fought back tears, holding his mother's gaze. She must have assumed he meant Jane. Naturally, he wanted to know about both of them. Naturally... but -- "Where is she?" His voice trailed off into a whisper this time, barely audible over the cacophony of screams and footsteps.

"They’ve taken her! Ari too! Collin and Shona!" Roxie's voice quivered with each name she uttered, "Your father—" She halted, drawing a deep breath in. "Your father is working with Spencer to find her, to find them." Tears streamed down her cheeks as she added, her voice lacking conviction, "It’s going to be okay, J." J.J. shifted his gaze from her to their surroundings, his hands still cradling his mother's cheeks. His thumbs instinctively moved to wipe away her tears, catching them before they could fall to the ground.

J.J. recognized that it had been a while since they last spoke, particularly since the argument with his dad about his training. But as he witnessed the sheer devastation etched onto his mother's face, a profound ache and determination swelled within him. — "Let me go with them." His voice was steady now, despite the tears that threatened to spill over his own eyes. Roxie shook her head, a silent refusal, before gently removing her son's hands from her cheeks. Her blood-stained hands left traces on his skin.

"J.J., I will not lose two of you…and with Ari…that’s like losing three of you!" Her voice cracked, the words breathless and airy. "I have to get her back! She needs me, Ma! Ari needs me, please J.J. felt as if he were pleading, the word "please" escaping him as an anguished cry as he appealed to his mother, but she shook her head. "Your father will get her back, J. Please I just needed to know you were safe. Go find Michael, Lucas. Get to safety. The guards will take you there. I’m doing this to protect you." J.J. dared to shove her away just a little bit as if someone in the crowd had pushed him. "Who is protecting her, Ma?! I promised her. And you both fucked it up." he spat out, before turning away from his mother and heading to find Michael and Lucas. He was furious — with his mother, with his father — for not allowing him to prepare enough to protect Ari in a situation like this... but also for failing to anticipate this attack. As J.J. scanned the area for Michael and Lucas, he cursed himself for allowing Ari to set foot in London, fully aware of the risks. Determination flared within him: if Ari survived this ordeal, he'd ensure she returned safely to Germany, far away from him and the dangers lurking in this city—even if it pained him deeply. If that was what she wanted...His eyes stung with emotion once more. When he spotted Lucas amidst the thinning crowd, he called out urgently, "Lucas!"
searching for once more: Lucas Misty Gray ; Michael Pyroclast
mentions: Ari Melanin-Gxdess

The Ballroom
(dressing room)
~ Covent Garden, London ~


Klaus Jäger
Wesley Roberts​

Wesley had barely finished articulating his need for the kit when Syd's hand darted toward his face. Despite the impulse to flinch, Wesley remained unnervingly still as Syd snatched the phone from his grasp and forcefully slammed it onto the table. He was shocked it didn’t snap in half under the force of his weight. A glint of fire burned in Wesley’s eyes, annoyance even but it was quickly extinguished as he reminded himself of the lethal consequences of challenging Syd."Jeezus!" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible amidst the surrounding clamor, ensuring even Syd couldn't overhear, as the mob boss turned his glare on him.

Wes attentively absorbed the man's instructions, though he couldn't shake the uncertainty lingering beneath the surface. While Wesley preferred to believe he and Syd maintained a positive rapport, recent events had left him questioning such assumptions—much like his presumed understanding with Klaus. Eyeing Syd warily, Wesley absorbed the directives regarding procuring a master key from the building's owner.

Fingers crossed that the owner has held onto the master key—or, better yet, that the building hasn't changed hands multiple times, potentially leading to its loss and subsequent neglect in replacing it. Otherwise, Syd might be stapling Wesley’s balls to the wall just for making a damn call. He wasn’t upset with Wesley, but he seemed like he needed to take out some of that pent-up Irish Anger on someone. Wesley didn’t mind so long as the man kept his hand off his neck. His eyes slid to Spencer for a moment before giving Syd a firm nod, "Master Key. Got it. I’ll be trackin’ the man down. Hopefully, he’s got in handy…" he affirmed, a hint of apprehension tainting his words. I’d hate to see what ye’d do to him if ye just snapped at me like that. He thought before turning to Klaus. "We've got a backup plan in motion, just in case, before Syd ended the call," he added, a silent plea echoing in his mind for Klaus to ensure their safety net remained intact. As he addressed Klaus, Wesley couldn't suppress the nagging concern, injecting his reassurance with a hint of skepticism.

With that, he hurried on out of the room before anything could be hurled at his head or he could be grabbed by the neck or nuts. Klaus observed Wesley's departure before Syd redirected his attention. "Well, it seems rather self-evident, doesn't it?" Klaus remarked, acknowledging Syd's frustration as he uttered the Carter name aloud. “The venue should be nearly evacuated by now," he stated calmly, glancing at Spencer and Syd. Turning his attention to the wounded, he caught the update in his earpiece confirming the arrival of ambulances on scene. "Ambulances are now on the scene. It’ll take them a moment to get back here," Klaus informed listening as Syd was mentioning he had the registration numbers for the vans. Klaus's brow furrowed as he observed the man stride towards the phone he had slammed onto the table, and then he glanced at Spencer. In the ensuing silence, Klaus couldn't help but wonder if Wesley had succeeded in locating the key yet.

As medics from the ambulances began filtering into the room, Klaus noticed Roxie reentering, carrying supplies. When Syd ended the call, Klaus sensed the charged atmosphere but turned to Spencer, hoping for cooperation. "We can coordinate search parties," he suggested, his tone low, mindful of the presence of unfamiliar faces attending to the wounded. "But let's be selective about who we involve—for your safety," Klaus advised, emphasizing caution. "As we unravel what happened, I can allocate as many men as necessary to the search, but I urge restraint in our numbers for now."

In all three of the men's earpieces, Wesley's voice came through. "Located the key, but... it seems the safe has been moved a few times since renovations," he reported. "Could use some assistance."
with: Spencer Misty Gray ; Syd Pyroclast (the others lol)

 

[Bellz]

Paper Mill
~ Undisclosed, London ~

Collin McCarthy
Julia Avvocata​

A lump constricted his throat, impeding his breath as Shona persisted in her argument with Damian and Julia. She pleaded for his release once more, and this time, he didn't deny it. If, by some miraculous chance, they allowed him to leave without ending his life with a bullet to the back of his head, he'd flee. He'd run as far as necessary to seek aid for Shona, for Jane, and Ari... if aid hadn't already been summoned. Shona begged for the girls' freedom too, but deep down, Collin knew it was unlikely to happen.

He was right.​

​

They stayed together in the van, Collin cradled in Shona's embrace for the remainder of the journey. At times, he held his breath to quell the tremors wracking his body, striving to appear strong for a woman who barely knew him, so she could focus on herself and her family. Collin felt overwhelmed by the weight of memories and family to consider. It was beginning to give him a headache, though not as much as the ache in his chest. Were authorities closing in on them? Or were they lagging behind? Collin fretted over Jane and Arabella, hoping they'd escape unscathed regardless of his fate. Surely they wouldn’t kill all of them?

It was chilling how quickly he had acclimated to the possibility of never seeing his family again as the van doors creaked open. The fresh air felt suffocating, like poison, rather than a breath of relief. His gaze darted in every direction, struggling to discern their location in the darkness. Where were they? Some sort of abandoned mill, it seemed. The urge to bolt surged within him, each heartbeat echoing the drumming of escape in his mind, yet the gun pressed against his back rendered flight impossible. Despite the absence of an obvious exit, opportunity seemed to taunt him from every corner. Or so it seemed until Damian's grim question shattered any semblance of hope. Did they ever imagine they'd meet their end in a paper mill? Collin's blood turned to ice, his teeth clenching involuntarily in response.

Damian nudged Collin, and the young man fought the urge to push him away, his instincts urging him to escape, defenses on high alert. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he took a shallow breath, trying to regain composure. Glancing at Shona, tears welled up once more in his eyes as Damian speculated on how long it would take for everything to... go up in flames.

So that’s how they would go?​

Collin had heard of numerous family members, including his own father, succumbing to gunshot wounds—a fate described as excruciatingly painful. But to be burned alive? He couldn't recall where he'd heard it, but it was often touted as the most agonizing way to die. And he knew neither he nor Shona deserved such a fate. Despite the creeping sense of detachment, Collin shook his head resolutely as Shona began to plead for his release once more. She placed a protective hand on his chest, but he scarcely felt it as he listened to her offer to endure everything in exchange for his freedom. Julia pulled Shona away, ensuring they remained apart, her smile taking on a sinister quality.

"No!" His voice emerged hoarse, cracking as she suggested relocating her. "I'm not going back. Not without you." It was a struggle to speak, to breathe. Every fiber of his being urged him to depart, to acquiesce. His body screamed at him, insisting he was foolish for resisting, urging him to let the kind woman fight on his behalf. But he couldn't. It wasn't right. If she faced death, he would face it with her. No one should die alone. "Fuck your games! and Fuck you!" Collin growled though it emerged as a strangled utterance. "Did you just bring us here and whisk the others away to prove you can prey on the vulnerable? Because you couldn't reach your real targets?" He stumbled over his words, but he held his ground, turning to confront Damian squarely. "The only point you're proving is that you can defeat those who never had a chance to begin with. Congratulations, you've taken down a group of models." If he was to perish in flames, he might as well voice a few parting thoughts.

Julia's laugh echoed, almost resembling that of a witch. "Such a foul mouth you have. I should slap you for daring to use such language against us," she taunted, her gaze narrowing at Collin so intensely he half expected her to transform into a snake. "Burn in hell," he muttered under his breath.
with: Damian Misty Gray

 

[Misty Gray]

The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Spencer King​

Were he not so concerned about Shona and the others, Spencer might have noticed and made a remark about the distance Wesley maintaining when he entered the dressing room with Klaus. Spencer shifted uncomfortably when Klaus announced the ambulances were on their way. "They'd better be fucking quick," he muttered as he took another look at the injured models as they were being tended to.

With talk of the owner and access to the safe, Spencer felt the impatience growing within, but he tried to suppress it. The models and others around him were upset enough without making it more tense. Besides, Syd seemed to be doing well at letting out the anger and frustration for the both of them.

Klaus asked if the note had any further information, but Spencer quickly shook his head. "Fuck all else except those bloody numbers and our surnames on the envelope," he echoed Syd's words. There was no doubt it was the Carters behind it. "I need to be out there joining that damn search party. Do they even know what they're doing and who they're looking for?" he asked, the irritation in his voice clear.

Bellz (Klaus, Wesley) Pyroclast (Syd)

 

[Misty Gray]

The Statesman
~ South Bank, London ~

Emery Callahan​

"Nobody's told you you're interesting before? You've obviously been lumbered with the wrong people all this time," she joked. "I see it too..." she admitted, meeting his gaze. "I see our connection," she told him, her cheeks turning a rosy red again.

Emery softly smiled when Dawson confirmed he wasn't a tough guy. "A bookworm who can throw a punch when needed? Steady on with the bragging, Mr. Perfect," she teased. Still, she turned a little more serious as she looked into his eyes. "If it was needed, then sure, you can throw a punch to help me out. I just grew bored of attracting men who threw their weight around because they thought it was attractive or would impress me. I come from a family with plenty tough guys, so that ain't special to me," she shrugged her shoulders. "I'll take an authentic bookworm any day."

When he asked about her siblings, Emery shook her head before taking a having a quick drink. "I have three siblings. Liam is my youngest brother, but I also have an older brother, Braden. And I have an older sister, Savannah. Brady and Savvy both live in the Lakes. They've got kids of their own now. It's bloody expensive having so many nieces and nephews," she remarked, but kept smiling. "Savvy is in London at the moment, modelling in a fashion show, but it's not my scene," she explained. "My brothers and sister are all a bit more... um... they're quieter than I am. Apparently I got the mouthiness from my Grandma Shannon," she remarked.

"How about you? Tell me about your family," she asked.

Bellz (Dawson)

 

[Pyroclast]

The Ballroom
~ Covent Garden, London ~

Syd Porter​

Even though he had focused on Klaus’ suggestion to call a search party just long enough to bark a single command at him, Syd’s thoughts were flying so fast that his attention moved on almost immediately, leaving Klaus and Spencer to discuss the logistics without his input. Instead, he tuned into the sound of Wesley’s voice over his earpiece, who was apparently having some trouble with the safe. As soon as the man had explained that they needed help finding it, Syd made sure Wesley or the owner had checked that the code didn't work on any other locks to ensure that looking for the safe wouldn't be a waste of time. Once confirmed, he returned his attention to Klaus and Spencer, who would have heard the same in their ear pieces, and told them he was going to help Wesley look.

“How can he not know where his own fucking safe is?” he ranted to himself as he swept across the main room. It was practically deserted by now: eerily quiet but for the cries of the injured through the doors of the dressing room and the ambulance sirens echoing down the street. Syd had memorised the building’s blueprints when he had been designing the security for the event, so he knew exactly where he was going. Down in the basement, he bumped into Wesley and the building’s manager, Warwick Ferguson, with whom they had worked with to put on the event. Until now, Syd had been cordial with him, but now he was blinded by frustration. He tore through the large basement storage room like a tornado, tearing filing cabinets to the floor, stripping out the contents of every closet.

“It’s gotta be here somewhere,” Warwick suggested, watching nervously as Syd destroyed the place.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Syd snapped. He threw a metal drawer across the room, which landed with a tremendous bang against the wall, before storming over and shoving a finger in Warwick’s face. “My daughter has been kidnapped by a pack of sick, psycho animals who will fucking eat her alive if I don’t reach her in time. If you don’t find us this safe in the next five minutes, Warwick, I swear to fucking Christ I will make you my bargaining chip. I hand you over to them and you will never see the light of day again. Got it?”

Regret and fear were plastered all over Warwick’s face as he trembled under Syd’s glare. It was clear he was questioning his decision to ever agree to host the charity event, and as soon as Syd let him go, the man immediately joined him in stripping the room.

“I’m searching your office,” he said to Warwick, once the basement had been cleared. “Warwick, you check the janitor closet and the coffee station. Wes, make sure he doesn’t do a runner, okay?” Into his earpiece, he spoke to Spencer and Klaus: “I need you two to tear the dressing room apart.” Then, glaring at Warwick, added, “This eejit has managed to lose his own fucking safe.”

It didn’t surprise Syd to find that the drawers of his desk weren’t locked. Once again, he practically demolished the room, hastily pulling drawers out of every desk, cabinet and closet. Then, on top of a tall bookcase, he saw a cardboard box. It was far heavier than the others, and when he opened it he saw it was full of junk, as if it had been used for packing rather than organising. Upon digging up the contents, he saw a black metal box. He swiftly pulled it out and set it down on the desk. “Got it,” he said. Then again, into his earpiece, he said. “Spencer, I’ve got it! Wes, come to the office and bring the key!”

Waiting for Wesley and the others to get there gave Syd time to think about Jane again. His heart began to palpitate at the thought of her shut up in the back of a van somewhere. He hoped she, Shona, Collin and Arabella were all together rather than alone, but regardless he knew his daughter would be terrified right now. Crying, shaking, panicking. Maybe she would be thinking about him and Roxie, hoping they would show up at any moment to rescue her and the others.

By the time the others swarmed into the office, Syd was on the edge of tears and wracked with guilt. “Open it, open it!” he urged, dragging his dusty hands through his hair. He watched as the safe door opened. “What is it?” he asked. “What…?” Out of the safe came a small, toy fire engine, followed by a box of matches. Syd stared at them, and then turned to glare at Warwick. “Are you fucking with us?” he asked. “I swear, if you’re in on this, I’ll slit your fucking throat before you can say -” But before he could finish his misdirected threat, he was alert to two pieces of paper that came out of the safe, each with an address on. He looked at Spencer. “Those goddamn Carter fucks,” he uttered. “They’re gonna set them on fire. They’re gonna set my baby girl on fire.” Tears filled his eyes and his breath caught in his throat. Up to this point, Syd had been almost on auto-pilot, giving directions to everyone around him, taking control of the situation as best he could. Now, however, panic was threatening to take over. He snatched up one of the addresses and sprinted out of the room, out of the building, not stopping even to tell Roxie where he was going or to properly organise the search party. He just knew he had to leave now.

The car keys were trembling in his hand as he fought to turn the ignition and he let out a scream of expletives. He could hear his daughter crying and begging for him, he could see her doused in petrol and screaming through the flames that engulfed her body. And yet here he was, unable to even start his car. “I’m coming, Janey, my sweet baby girl,” he cried. “Just hold on, hold on for me.” Finally, his keys were in, and within seconds he was skidding out of the car park at full speed and careening through the heavy London traffic.

Interactions
Bellz Wesley, Klaus, the daughter who is totally not in my car because that would be extremely stupid and dangerous
Misty Gray Spencer
Nearby/mentioned: Roxie, Savannah, Arabella, Collin