constance-rutherford

[constance-rutherford]

Perhaps it was an ambush. Even if wasn't, it would likely be perceived as such.

A better man would've been able to approach his son any time, any place. Well, a better man likely wouldn't have had to put any thought into it at all, he supposed... But Andrew wasn't deluded enough to believe resentment from his children was unwarranted, and he wouldn't deny he was ignorant to how much it might've deepened in his extended absences. Especially with Gideon. It was hard to gauge reality when the few times they spent real time together were the kind of family gatherings where everyone put on their well-worn façades, years in the making.

Just like this one. And there the older man stood, very much a coward.

"I can't say this is what I expected from her, but I also can't say I'm disappointed. It is a refreshing change for a family affair not to become a media spectacle." Not the best ice breaker, but he'd followed him outside without much thought or motive beyond speaking with his boy. "It's good to see you, Son. You're here alone?"

LOCATION — Old Marylebone Town Hall. DATE — September 28, 2024. STARTER — [OPEN to Rutherford Family]

Yvonne's civil wedding ceremony makes for a small affair (well, as small as possible, considering her husband's clan) and an uncharacteristically intimate gathering for his own family in turn. His father's associates are nowhere to be found, no string of friends and followers trailing after his sisters, and no posse of girls to make eyes at his younger brother, either. A refreshing turn, enough that Gideon is unabashedly relieved the bride and groom have chosen to save the fanfare of a church ceremony for a different date.

It's nice to see them like this, given the Rutherford rarity that is sharing in common happiness. Even the strained politeness between certain individuals or the inevitable awkwardness of some interactions has been worth weathering for the greater good of celebrating Yvonne's special day. And he's happy for her, enough to lift his own spirits when he sees the resolute joy in her smile, or catches glimpses of the adorable bundle that is his youngest niece, finally freed from the clutches of the NICU.

It gives him time to practice the baby steps, too; to see the love that surrounds him, all those promises of eternity, without succumbing to the forlorn ache beneath his ribs.

He's done well most of the day – greeted, smiled, chuckled, congratulated – eventually though, as the distractions begin to dwindle, it creeps back up on him. The inoffensive teasing about who might be next to walk down the aisle... The empty space beside him that would've been hers, if they were still together... And that damn ache he can't shift.

He peels slowly away from the cheerful throng, hoping to go unnoticed. His absence swallowed up by another member of either family, able to swing the social mingling better than he can just now. Ten minutes, that's all he needs. Ten minutes to get air, clear his head, and beg mercy from his memories. It's been four months, let me go.

[constance-rutherford]

'Careful with her head.' Andrew couldn't help but chuckle to himself at that. This certainly wasn't the first time he was cradling a baby—he remembered so clearly these moments with her, some of the few fond memories untainted by all that'd come since—but understood clearly enough to keep his thoughts to himself. Yvonne's older siblings had come to them later. When they'd first brought her home from the hospital, Andrew had been so scared to touch her in case she might break his wife had forced him.

A parent would always worry for their child, even when they had no need. And that was a feeling he was more familiar with than any of them likely recognised.

"The Belmonte genes truly are unfair. First you, the spitting image of your mother. Now this one, the spitting image of hers," he mused, smiling fondly. Of course, he joked, but how could a good man ever be disappointed in that? "I'm glad she's home."

When he could eventually tear his eyes away from the surprisingly calm baby, he glanced over at his daughter. God, how much she had changed over these last few years. How much she had grown. To say he was proud would've been insufficient to describe how he truly felt. A pity, expressions of such had never been his forte...

"It's good to see you too, love. I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner. Rest assured, though, Connie updated me on the hour, every hour." Not an exaggeration, either. "How are you holding up after it all?"

Date: 19 September 2024

Location: Yvonne's house

@constance-rutherford

"Careful with her head." Yvonne placed Isabel into Andrew's arms and sat down on one of the living room chairs, tucking her feet underneath her. Her heart beat firmly against her chest at the sight of someone else holding Isabel, but she took a deep breath in. This was her father. Nothing was going to happen to her daughter. Nothing.

"She finally hit seven pounds at her last check up. And her lungs are just as powerful as Maddie's were. Sometimes even moreso." The toddler in question sat coloring at the coffee table. Well, coloring over the lines, that was. "It's good to see you, Dad."

[constance-rutherford]

Travelling to London had primarily been for personal reasons. Partly to spend time with his grandchildren. Partly to be there for Yvonne on her wedding day. Andrew was under no illusions, though, given the sorry state his city had so quickly descended into, that he would be offered any amount of freedom beyond that. Everybody wanted his ear. Everybody needed his opinion. Everybody had some morbid tale to tell about an enemy they should've been just as quick to blame him for...

The Rutherford could only wonder which, if not all, Melissa intended to offer.

"Indeed."

In spite of what he expected could only be an unpleasant conversation, it was good to see her. The man's usually stoic exterior offered an uncharacteristic smile that silently told her as much. His resentment toward Johnathan had, perhaps unfairly, peaked, and Andrew had done a good job brushing off any attempts at a meeting. After the wedding, he kept telling himself. Just one moment of peace. At least meeting with Melissa would absolve him from the sin of avoidance.

As proud of a man as he might've been, Andrew was not the type to gloss over his own mistakes. Failures. They had numbered far too many over the years, though, thus far, had mostly been reserved for his personal life. This was different. Blaming Johnathan for his actions in Porto Velho could only stretch so far. The rest of this mess was his own doing, and now it was coming back around to remind him that the job he did, the impossible decisions he made, were thankless fucking predicaments.

"I appear to have overplayed my hand. Now, I must consider how to recover."

FOR: ANREW RUTHERFORD. @constance-rutherford WHEN: September 24'. Post Shooting. WHERE: Andrew's Office.

After the recent shootings, she could practically feel the organizations scrambling. Even with how calculated she'd prided herself in staying: always attempting to be two steps ahead...Melissa felt the literal gravity of the situation weighing down on all of them. Jordan and Harry, Benjamin's brothers, had been her eyes and ears on the streets over the last few days. Gathering anything they could, and Benjamin, quietly from recovery, had been working his connections. Private school attendees tended to know useful people, which was useful.

Nevertheless, the real reason for this issue...was in their own backyard.

Andrew, one of her longest, dearest friends, sat behind that office door. And for the first time in a long time, she didn't sweep in like she was his second. Instead, she held off for a moment.

This conversation wasn't easy to have: not when it pertained to Lara.

There was one of two ways this meeting would go, and Melissa would be lying if she didn't admit she was nervous. This organization, over her tenure, had become the be all, and end all of her life. Andrew and Melissa—their shared history, the years when she and Johnathan had been so in love that her future seemed inevitable. Andrew had been through so much, and she'd always strived to be his equal. Although, something told her, no matter how hard she tried...that would never be the case. He was far too special.

The strain in her shoulder, as she brought up her hand to the handle and pushed her way into the room, slowly.

"Andrew," Melissa's lips gave way to a grim, thin line, taking no time to find a chair. "...The vultures are circling."

[constance-rutherford]

Constance: Then that's all that matters. Constance: Like you said, you can always do a larger ceremony later if you feel like it's something you want. Constance: If not, that's okay, too. Constance: Don't be pressured into anything because you think it's what you should do. This is your life, Yvonne, and I'll support your choice, whatever you decide.

Yvonne: After everything these last six months, I'm just ready to make it official. Yvonne: I've never been more sure about anyone or anything than I have about him.

[constance-rutherford]

Constance: I'm not going to talk you out of it if that's what the both of you want to do. Constance: The wedding is about you two, love, not anybody else. Nor the expectations they may have. Constance: You still have time to think about it.

Text @constance-rutherford

Yvonne: I need you to talk me out of a probably extremely impulsive decision. Yvonne: What if Félix and I eloped now and then had the church ceremony next year?

[constance-rutherford]

"With or without me, I think you'd be doing just fine..." Her hand stilled at that. Nothing hurt quite like the truth.

Tonight he wasn't, though, and that was why at his side was precisely where she needed to be. Wanted to be. The kiss had brought a smile to her lips; much like his, tinged with a little something she wished didn't have to exist between them. When she'd heard he'd been hurt, it'd taken every ounce of willpower she possessed to give him the space he needed to deal with what'd happened, but even now, as she witnessed he'd made it through with her own eyes, relief was always weighed down with the fear that next time, it might not be the case.

That one day, the message to assure her he was okay wouldn't come.

Constance was also glad she hadn't been there. But she wished he hadn't been, either...

There was little she wouldn't have given to see him out of this life—to see him at peace—even if it meant accepting she could have little part to play in the new one.

"Maybe you can take me there one day." Or maybe not. All that mattered was the idea of him having something to focus on that wasn't perpetuating her ex-husband's business at great personal expense to himself. Times like these reminded her that it all had a cost; his loyalty, his duty, his love for his friend. And it'd always felt like where that cost fell was so unbalanced. Constance had watched many of the decisions Andrew made tear him apart, but personal responsibility and dealing with it the way Johnathan and the others did was...different. If she could offer him some relief by letting him talk about something that made him happy, something that was his, then late hour be damned, she had all the time in the world: "Tell me about it?"

Whatever anger had spiked at the sound of a visitor immediately dissipated when he opened the door to find Connie. He'd hugged her tightly, despite knowing she'd been safe, as if she were returning to him. Then, he'd held her face in his hands, grateful for everything that she was and more, as he allowed himself to feel the calm that was slowly trickling in.

He's sat on the couch beside her, an arm stretched along the back beneath hers. The grief of touch still lingers with the quiet ache of togetherness, but it's dullened by how comfortable he felt to just be next to her. "Thanks, Con." He turns to press a soft kiss to her inner wrist. Then, he smiles at her, a tired smile that barely reaches his eyes, as he says, "Where would I be without you." A scary thought. When she'd avoided him a few years ago, he'd almost lost his mind. It'd put so much into perspective, and he couldn't help but wonder if she felt the same.

"I'm glad you weren't there," he says candidly. There would've been a trail of bodies in his wake, if something had happened to her. He'd been able to act with a more rational mind knowing she was at home. "If I'm being honest..." He trails off, not because it's difficult to talk, because he always found it easier to talk to her, but the admission was new to him too. "Sometimes I don't see an end to all of this. And I really--" He sighs heavily, shaking his head. A beat. "You know I'm building a house? In the Cotswolds."

[constance-rutherford]

@johnnparsons Dated: 25/3/24.

It'd been a few days. Most of which she'd spent with her daughter, trying to be of comfort in the wake of yet another disastrous after party. Constance hadn't been present for anything beyond the ceremony itself, and whilst she understood she should be grateful for that as the night's misery had come to light in horrific detail, a part of her still felt guilty for the people who mattered most having to endure it alone. Could she have done anything to help? Doubtful. But the mind was rarely rational in moments like these.

Showing up at his place had been a gamble when she wasn't even sure he wanted company. Whilst she didn't know all the details, she was aware that the Rutherfords were dealing with the nightmare of one of their own being taken. And she couldn't have even imagined being in Emilio's position. Couldn't imagine what must've been running through their minds. What if it had been Yvonne?

But he had answered the door. And he had let her inside with her pitiful offering of wine and a shoulder if he needed one. As she lowered herself onto the couch beside him, though, Constance couldn't help but wonder how useful either would be.

"You don't have to talk about this," she said, fingertips brushing the hair at the back of his head gently. "But don't not talk about it for my sake. I'm here if you need me to be."

[constance-rutherford]

'Constance Belmonte.' It still didn't feel good to hear. It was so good to see him, though, that she smiled in spite of it.

Reflexive calm was often the case when it came to Johnathan, and that was precisely why she'd made him promise to find her at some point before the night descended into madness. Time for each other was difficult to come by, always had been, and whilst she often wished that wasn't the case, it did mean she appreciated the moments they did get so much more. Held onto them until the next.

"Why do you think I wear them? So I know I can get away with anything..." With a cheeky smile, she occupied herself with the lapel of his jacket, thumb brushing over the stitching. Connie understood she wouldn't be able to see him much tonight, but knowing he was a message away at any moment offered some respite. "All jokes aside, you do look good. Proceed with caution. I think the 'heartless villain who looks handsome in a suit' combination will land you a fan club in this crowd."

He had texted her a 'Where are you?' as soon as he arrived. Business was business, but he was also there to spend time with her.

When he finally finds her, and he will argue that he was the one to find her, features light up, perhaps only imperceptibly so, with the kind of relief he knows she understands.

"Constance Belmonte--" That felt fucking good to say. Johnathan stands in front of her, taking her in with his hands in his pockets, wracking his brain for a comeback. But he couldn't bloody think. So, he resigns, before he looked even more like an idiot, "--It's unfair for you to be a little shit in that dress, so I'll just give you three seconds to take back the chihuahua comment."

[constance-rutherford]

@johnnparsons Time: pre-awards.

Finding him had become a priority for the sake of her sanity. With the exception of her daughter, there were few in attendance Constance wanted to see, let alone speak to.

Of course he looked good. He always did. But whenever Johnathan was forced out and paraded around at one of these things, she could tell he was entirely out of his element. Stifling her amusement at his expense was difficult when it was so bloody endearing, but coming from her, at least he knew the teasing was good-natured.

"Why do I feel like trying to get you into that suit was the equivalent of trying to force an angry chihuahua into a dress..? Were there any survivors?"

[constance-rutherford]

"A remarkably positive attitude given your nominations this evening. Commendable."

How was she? Not drunk enough for this conversation, that was for sure.

Constance looked at her in silence for a moment. What was the word for a dress like that? Not old enough to be considered vintage, but too much so to be considered becoming of a woman at the forefront of representing her hus--ex-husband. Several sprung to mind, but none of them were appropriate for civilised conversation. Thus, she remained silent, briefly taking a sip of champagne.

"You look nice."

FOR: @mobscene-starters WHEN: 23rd of March, 2024. WHERE: Royal Albert Hall. Pre-Awards.

"Is that all your mouths good for? Talking?" Melissa grumbled at Benjamin, he dripped a refined elegance that had her brow inching. Who'd brought him that? It hadn't been her. With a glass in hand, she took a slow sip. "Actually, do not answer that. Find something else to do. You'd think you'd appreciate the break for once." She needn't say more, Benjamin quickly sauntered away, leaving Melissa to pivot on her heel, a grin spreading across her face.

"What a pleasant evening this is turning out to be," Melissa remarked, with a swift glass raise toward the oncoming arrival. "How are you?"

[constance-rutherford]

Constance Belmonte attends The London Awards @ The Royal Albert Hall. Date: Friday, March 22nd, 2024. Escorted By: Nobody. She hates 99.9% of you. Just here to support Yvonne.

[constance-rutherford]

@yvonne-rutherford Date: 16/3/24. Location: The Kingdom Hotel.

A light lunch before they headed out to look at awards dresses.

It was the kind of afternoon she'd only been able to dream of once upon a time. Now, though? Now she was lucky enough to be able to share these moments with her daughter, and Constance would cling to every opportunity she got with the knowledge she was lucky to have been given another chance at all. Perhaps this hadn't been the life she'd expected for her only daughter, but these days she realised she was prouder of Yvonne than she'd ever thought possible. Expectations didn't matter.

"Your father got into town this morning. Have you spoken with him yet?"

[constance-rutherford]

Constance: Of course, my love. Constance: Pick a day best suited to you, and I'll make sure I'm free.

Text: Connie

Yvonne: Do you want to get lunch this week? Yvonne: I have some good news.

[constance-rutherford]

johnathan-parsons​:

txt: Constance

Johnathan: I’m back home. Johnathan: You doing okay?

Constance: Good. Constance: I am, actually. My friends and I took a trip to Barcelona. I only just got back into the city, myself. Already having immediate regrets. Constance: Are you all right? I know things in London are rough right now. Constance: Call me if you need anything, okay?

[constance-rutherford]

Text @ Connie

Yvonne: I just wanted to tell you I love you and I don't say that enough.

Constance: I love you, too, sweetheart.

Constance: I'm sorry about Amir. I know that he meant a lot to you. And that you did to him.

Constance: If you need me to be there, I will.

[constance-rutherford]

Jennifer Connelly as Penny Benjamin TOP GUN: MAVERICK 2022 | dir. Joseph Kosinski

[constance-rutherford]

CATTELL 16 FACTOR TEST. (take this test for your muse and post your results.)

WARMTH: 46% – cold, selfish.

INTELLECT: 62% – cerebral, analytical.

EMOTIONAL STABILITY: 70% – level-headed, calm.

AGGRESSIVENESS: 22% – modest, docile.

LIVELINESS: 30% – sombre, restrained.

DUTIFULNESS: 70% – conforming, traditional.

SOCIAL ASSERTIVENESS: 38% – shy, withdrawn.

SENSITIVITY: 42% – coarse, tough.

PARANOIA: 70% – wary, suspicious.

ABSRACTNESS: 22% – practical, regular.

INTROVERSION: 78% – private, quiet.

ANXIETY: 70% – fearful, self-doubting.

OPENMINDEDNESS: 38% – close-minded, set in ways.

INDEPENDENCE: 54% – loner, craves solitude.

PERFECTIONISM: 82% – orderly, thorough.

TENSION: 54% – stressed, unsatisfied.