#file under: muses: tyler

[knotfodder]

name: Tyler nicknames: Ty age: 33 gender: Male pronouns: (he/him/his) secondary gender: Omega occupation: tbd species: human(?) fc: Grant Gustin

+flirty, affectionate, expressive+ -mischievous, cocky, needy-

[gwenpooleofish]

One Shot

Hey true believers! Once again, mun has decided to switch to the novel format. Reminder: quotes will be used for my dialogue, there will be no asterisks on my actions and it will be in third person.

Content warnings: harassment, guns, violence, blood, panic, single explosive, implied death.

After receiving the job information from Ronnie, Gwen jumped straight into reading the files. Gwen has known Ronnie the longest in this dimension, unless you include her brother, Teddy, but things changed between them when she retconned herself into this universe. That’s a story for another day though. The point is that Ronnie knows what jobs Gwen takes, which ones that have her coming back chattering about how fun it is to be a superhero, she knows how to curate jobs Gwen likes. So when Gwen skims the files provided to her, she’s faced with indecision on which to do first.

[Not really, actually. I'm just gonna chose the one that sounds the least climactic. I don't want to go out with something boring, yknow?]

Gwen reopened the second document and highlighted important information, copying it into her notes app.

Suited up, Gwen was perched on top of a building, consulting her notes holding binoculars in her other hand.

[who: young woman with shaved head, skinny, 4'11", will be wearing a long, black coat; what: protect woman from shady guy; when: Sept 14th 4:00AM (WHY); where: east 6 street]

“Hmm…” Gwen mused, looking down at East 6th Street with her binoculars, “Where have all the bald women gone~? And where are all the gods~!” She hummed along to Bonnie Tyler’s Holding Out For A Hero, “I am the hero~!”

Then she spotted her, a short woman basically being consumed by her black coat. Gwen wouldn't have spotted her if it weren't for her stark-white skin reflecting the street lights as she stood next to the stairs of a bar, smoking a cigarette.

[It's not even that cold why is she wearing such a huge coat? And in black? If I didn't already know this was the comic world this would be the nail in the coffin.]

It wasn't until around a half hour later that she spotted another activity of interest; someone had walked up to the woman and tugged at her arm. She tore herself away from them but after a quick chat, reluctantly followed, and Gwen jumped back-first down from the building onto a truck hauling mattresses. "Oh powers of convenience... I'll miss you."

As the truck tumbled along the road, Gwen kept her eyes on the two pedestrians and hopped down from the truck before she lost sight of the two wandering into a convenience store.

Gwen jogged to the outside of the store. Looking through the windows for the two, she found the woman being swarmed by multiple people, all in suits and reaching for their hips.

"Hi guys!" Gwen chimed as she walked through the door, being met with guns pointed at her. Though one stayed trained on the woman. "Hey lady being harassed," Gwen ran through the herd of people, diving for the slacker, "got a name?" she sweep-kicked their legs out from under them. "The writer keeps calling you "the woman" and you're clearly not the only woman here."

"D-Doreen! Writer? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, I know a Doreen!" Gwen pushed Doreen outside of the store as shots rang around her, none hitting. [There's a reference to be made there.] Gwen lightly tossed a flashbang into the store, closing the door and leaning back against it, covering her ears. "You're gonna want to close your eyes."

The goons inside the store backed up away from the explosive, watching the flashbang intently. Doreen reluctantly turned away from the store, mimicking Gwen.

A moment went by.

And another.

And another.

Doreen looked back into the store, "Is that ever-" a loud bang sounded throughout the block.

Gwen uncovered her ears, "What?"

"Nevermind..."

“Everything alright, Doreen?”

“I… better. Are they dead?”

“Nope, I don’t kill!” [Anymore, lol. But she doesn’t need to know that.] Gwen looked back at the store, “They should be incapacitated for the moment though, let’s get moving.” Gwen grabbed Doreen’s hand and headed to where she parked her motorcycle.

“Who are you? How did you find me?” Doreen said as she struggled to get moving at Gwen’s pace.

“Gwenpool! Your friendly neighborhood not-Deadpool! Your sister tipped me off that this was happening.”

Before Doreen could continue the conversation, a shot was fired from the convenience store. And Gwen felt a searing pain she hadn’t felt in almost a year, nothing she had felt in the comic world.

Gwen looked down. Bright red liquid was gushing down her leg. She was bleeding. A small chunk of the side of her shin, just below her knee, where her shin guard didn’t cover, was gone. [Comic characters don’t bleed. At the very least I don’t bleed here. I’m not an edgy character. This means…]

Doreen was yelling something, it was muffled, Gwen couldn't react. There was a gun being aimed to her head. Doreen dove face-first into Gwen's chest, knocking her to the ground. Quickly followed by another shot ringing out into the air, one that didn't land. One that could have landed.

Doreen got up, grabbing at Gwen's holster for her gun and taking it, aiming it at the goon. The safety was on, Gwen knew that. In what felt like slow motion, Gwen sat up, pulled a gun out of her other holster, switched the safety off and shot the goon's chest.

When Gwen’s hearing began to clear up, she heard Doreen quietly speaking, “Oh my god. Oh my god…” She was staring at the body of the goon. Gwen, again, grabbed at the other woman’s hand. Bringing her to her motorcycle and driving off to Doreen’s address. All the while Doreen quietly freaked out and Gwen could only focus on the slow loss of feeling in her right leg.

[captains-simp]

(Not me accidentally posting this when it was half done)

I knew I could count on you @wndrcarol for a jock!Carol request🥳 also....👀I heard you like Sharon

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

1.9k words

Warnings: harassment, degrading, face slapping, strap on sex, spitting, choking and hints of overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You groaned in frustration when you finished checking the kitchen for your girlfriend. Everytime you went to a party with her the same thing happened.

You'd arrive, take a while to get comfortable and as soon as you did Carol would be whisked away by her friends leaving you to stand awkwardly in the corner. You really needed to get more friends. The ones you had never seemed to come to those parties.

You wandered outside onto the wooden decking area to get some fresh air and leant against the fence as you lazily scanned the area for Carol. You knew she wasn't out there, you had already checked.

Your eyes landed on a brunet who had been watching you carefully but the moment you locked eyes he scurried away back inside, not wanting to be seen near you. You smiled at the memory of the last time you had met at a party.

"There was only 10 seconds of the game left but I kicked the ball as hard as I could and it was on the last second of the game that it scored and we won!" Tyler exclaimed before taking another sip of his bear and gleamed at the memory.

"That's great." You said as you continued to scan the room for Carol.

"It was, you should'a been there." Tyler said as he looked back at you, or more he looked above the line of your low hanging top. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"I was at Carol's game." Tyler didn't react to the mention of your girlfriend. It wasn't like he didn't know you were dating, everyone knew. Carol made sure of that.

"Unlucky, mine was a lot more interesting." He declared with a smug grin. A brief memory of Carol fucking you in the showers after that game flashed through your mind and you couldn't contain your smile at knowing how wrong the guy infront of you was.

Unfortunately, he thought that smile was at him.

"I had a pretty great game before that too. But it's getting kinda loud in here, wanna go somewhere more private?" He smirked in an extremely unattractive way.

"I'm good, I need to go find Carol." You said quickly, wanting to get the hell away from Tyler.

You hadn't seen Carol in a while. It was her idea to go to the party, it was an environment she thrived in. You, however, did not. It wasn't your scene and you didn't know anyone there, not well at least.

At some point through the mass of bodies, loud music and numerous people trying to get Carol to do shots with them or be on their beer pong team, you had been seperated from the Captain and you hadn't seen her since.

"Come on, I'm sure there's some spare rooms upstairs." There was a slight slur to his voice that made it even worse when he approached you and put a heavy hand on your waist.

"Get off me, Tyler!" You snapped and pushed his hand away but he continued with a frown.

"What? Don't you want this-" He was cut off when a fist shot out beside you and punched him across the face. Tyler staggered back, gripping his bleeding nose, as the people around you cheered loudly, oblivious to what had happened prior.

"Get your fucking hands off my girlfriend." Carol demanded as she continued to advance towards a cowarding Tyler who could only hold his hands out in defence. You pulled Carol away with to turn her towards you and Tyler scrambled to his feet to flee.

"Are you okay?" Concerned and familiar eyes met yours that instantly eased your worry. Carol brought her hands gently up to your face as she scanned you closely and you were surprised to see that she looked completely sober.

You nodded your head and breathed out a yes before you took her right hand away from your face to examine it carefully. The dull lighting in the room made it hard to make out but you could feel that there was nothing out of place.

"Come on." Carol said as she took your hand. "Let's get out of here."

Tyler had a bandage across his nose for a while. He had avoided you like the plague ever since, clearly have some sense in him.

"Want some company?" Came a voice from beside you. You glanced sideways and saw Sharon fall easily into place next to you. She mirrored your position of leaning against the barrier and gave you a knowing smile.

"Thanks." You breathed out, feeling kind of embarrassed someone had noticed Carol always seemed to ditch you at parties.

"No luck finding the girlfriend?" Sharon teased.

"Is it that obvious?" You asked but weren't sure you really wanted to know.

"You look like a lost puppy without her." Sharon chuckled making you flush. Maybe you were too clingy.

"She's the golden retriever lesbian." You corrected making Sharon laugh more.

"That seems about right." She went to move closer to you but a group of jocks spilled out onto the decking, without Carol among them.

"Fuck this." She huffed and took your hand to lead you over to the garden swing bench. Your hand felt like it was burning when she held it to pull you along. Although her hands were physically soft, they weren't the kind of softness you felt with Carol. It didn't make you feel warm inside, it made you feel uneasy. But it was a party, you had to hold onto people to move about.

Part of your brain pointed out that there was only a few people in the garden so there was really no need for Sharon to navigate you through it, while the rest of you really did just want some company.

Sharon sat down on the bench and you followed, feeling as though you could relax a bit more on the edge of the garden.

"You know, I think Carol's a very lucky gal to have you." Sharon said as she watched you closely. You laughed nervously as you noticed how close she was. You found yourself searching the garden for Carol again but Sharon lighting held your jaw and turned it back towards her.

"Pretty thing like you must surely be a lot of fun to play with." She smirked as her other hand crept onto your thigh.

"Um I d-don't-"

"Shh, you don't need to talk." Sharon cooed as she tilted your chin up more when you struggled to keep eye contact. The blonde glanced at your lips and licked her own before leaning forward slowly.

Until a strong hand wrapped itself around your bicep and yanked you from the bench.

You stumbled into a fuming blonde who was glaring at Sharon. You blushed deeply as you realised how it looked at what Sharon was most likely trying to do.

"You keep your fucking hands off of my girlfriend, Carter." Carol spat as her fists clenched.

"You really shouldn't leave her unattended?" Sharon said, amused by Carol's anger. "Who knows what could have happened." She winked at you and looked away instantly.

Carol scoffed simply as she continued to glare daggers at the woman infront of you.

"In your fucking dreams, she's mine." She all but growled as she pulled you away. You yelped as you felt her nails dig into your skin but didn't have the nerve to ask her to loosen her grip.

Carol pulled you through the crowded house and up to an empty bedroom that she shoved you inside.

"Did you enjoy that? Whoring yourself out to Sharon?" Carol asked as she threw you to the bed and started undoing her belt.

"No I-" You started as you went to sit up but Carol put a firm hand to your chest and pushed you back flat against the bed.

"Shut up, slut. I don't want to hear another sound out of you unless you're saying my name." She warned as she pulled her strap out and pulled your panties down.

You looked at her wide eyed, never seeing her so worked up before sex. Sure, you'd have a lot of needy, desperate sex and the occasional quickly, but she never showed so little regard to you before.

"What? Think I'm going to be nice to you and take my time? Want me to touch you gently? Whores don't deserve to be treated nicely. You don't get to prep my cock either." Carol taunted as she pushed the tip of the head in and kept it there as she stared down at you. "You'll have to just take it how it is, not that you'll have much of an issue. You've always got such a sloppy cunt."

"Please, Captain." You found yourself whining earning you a harsh slap to your left cheek. Your head whipped to the side and your cheek burned but Carol didn't seem to care.

"Who are you begging to fuck you?" Carol asked as she rocked her hips slowly as a reminder that you only had the very tip inside you.

"You Carol, I want my Captain's cock!" You cried out desperately.

"Only mine?" The blonde mused as she inched a bit more of the strap in.

"Yes Carol, only your cock. I only want you." You whined truthfully. Carol knew that of course, she knew you were incredibly loyal. That's what made the game so fun.

"Please! Please Carol I need you so bad. I want my Captain deep inside me, please please." You begged and felt as though you could cry in frustration.

"You really know how to plead like a whore, don't you. Did you learn that somewhere? Or are you just a natural cock slut?" She asked as she slammed her hips forward and filed you up with the strap at every angle.

You moaned loudly and threw your head back against the pillows as Carol set about her harsh and unrelenting pace. The thick strap filled you up entirely with every thrust. It didn't take long for your eyed to water from the sheer amount of pleasure she was giving to you so roughly.

Carol grunted as she pounded the strap into you and her grip on your wrists tightened, letting you know she wouldn't let go anytime soon.

"See? You've got such a sloppy pussy. And it's all mine." Carol spoke as she glanced down to look at your pussy taking her strap so well.

"You're gonna cum for me now. You're going to cum all over my cock." Carol demanded as she noticed your signs of approaching orgasm.

You cried out at the force of each of Carol's thrusts until it became too much to bear and you crashed over the edge without much to hold on to. As you did so, Carol brought her hand up and wrapped it tightly around your throat before giving it a quick squeeze.

"You belong to me, slut." Carol said as she continued thrusting mercilessly. She noted your blissed expression and open mouth and gripped your jaw tightly, much rougher than Sharon had. She pulled your face down with your mouth still open and spat. You moaned as you tasted her saliva on your tongue and around your lips. You swallowed it eagerly making Carol beam internally, not that she could let you know that.

"Cum again for me whore. I get to do what I want with you. So you're going to keep cuming until I get bored. I don't give a fuck if you get tired." She spoke next to your ear, poison dripping from her words.

"So fucking cum."

[sleep-i-ness]

Bad Date? (Maria Hill x reader)

Request: YES (at end of oneshot)

Content Warning: Drinking, mentions of cheating

A/N: Here you go hun! I didn’t really know how to write the reader as a tomboy so sorry if it wasn’t quite what you wanted. Oh and one bit was a tiny bit inspired by Two Weeks Notice (with Hugh Grant and Sandra Bullock) so if you notice that well done? Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Taglist:  @holybatflapexpert​​ @startrekkingaroundasgard​ @natasha-danvers​ @a-stressedstudent​ (if you would like to be added, please fill out the form in my bio)

A loud knock at the door startled Maria out of her administration haze; she sighed, taking in the heap of strewn sheets. Her usually immaculate desktop was barely visible under the mountain of paperwork that had just been piling up endlessly since her day had started. It was already looking like she might have to stay well past her contractually mandated hours just to clear what she already had. The legal team at Stark Industries had been on the phone with her non-stop, demanding evidence or explanations that were either highly confidential, non-existent or possibly even both. Maria was honestly sick to death of having to clean up both the physical and PR messes of the Avengers.

“Come in.” She was unable to muster any energy into her order, hoping to whatever mighty being out there that it was an agent she could actually stand. Or really just any agent other than Agent Mace. He had been needlessly suffocating, bouncing into her office, whenever he so pleased, to ask a question that really only required the most miniscule amount of brainpower to be answered. It was a miracle he had ever been hired.

Y/N poked her head through the door, an easy smile tilting her lips upwards. Maria returned the infectious grin despite herself, a giddy, light sensation spreading through her chest.

“Oh, good, Agent Y/L/N. These are the mission debriefs that you filed, would you mind taking them down to Agent Coulson?” Maria rifled through the stuffed drawer by her leg and passed her a thick brown file.

Y/N grabbed it, their fingertips brushing lightly and Maria jolted slightly as an electric spark shot up her arm. “Sure, I got it.”

“Now, after you’ve dropped them down, you can start with the files for your next-”

Y/N interrupted her, smiling sheepishly, “Actually, I don’t know how much time I have. That’s what I came here to ask you about. Tony sort of set me up on a date with someone tonight.”

Maria’s heart sank, a sickening heavy feeling, and she wasn’t quite sure why. She shook it off, blaming it on a sudden bout of exhaustion and mustered an enthusiastic grin. Scraping the papers on her desk together, she stapled them together with a satisfying click.

“Great.”

Y/N took that as a dismissal as she backed away, towards the door. “I just have to figure out what to wear. I don't have anything.”

Y/N almost giggled and a wave of nausea rolled over Maria as she swallowed harshly. Y/N looked ready to soar with joy, like an entrapped bird in a cage that she held the key to.

“Have fun.” Maria couldn’t help the bitterness seeping into her words and Y/N’s face contorted, startled for a second, before schooling herself into a more composed expression.

What the hell was that. Maria was astounded as Y/N backed out without another word, a placating smile fixed to her cheeks. She attributed her sudden passive-aggressiveness on an envy of being able to leave work without feeling the immense burden of knowing how much else she had to do. But she’d never had this problem before when it came to her work-life balance.

Maybe she was finally feeling the need to get back into a relationship.

:.

Maria groaned as the clock hand hit seven and she hadn’t seemed to have made a dent int the pile. She’d have to work the night on this lot; she was prepping an incredibly time-pressured, high-stakes mission, so they were sending the team out tomorrow. The window had been made known to them only a couple hours ago, at most.

She wondered if Y/N was having a better night than her. A nice dinner out, good conversation and freely flowing wine. Then, dancing in the arms of her pretty date and maybe getting a kiss goodnight.

No. This was unprofessional. Maria shook her head, blinking hurriedly, as she tried to clear her mind of any distracting thoughts.

Work.

Right…

Eliott Callahan, ex-CIA, presumed deceased after a mission went wrong in 2007. Recently resurfaced with links to the Tribe of Salvation, an organisation that had been previously unknown until ties to the Ten Rings had been revealed. Supposedly owned a scientific reserve in North Carolina which was too heavily guarded to not be hiding anything. Callahan had given them a way in, now they needed to take the place out.

Maria’s eyes watered as she stared at the security schematics and the notes made by top SHIELD security specialists. God, she wished she had Y/N here to give her some advice on it. Y/N’s expertise was in getting into places she shouldn’t be, which is how SHIELD had found her. But Y/N was having fun on a nice date with a nice girl and Maria couldn’t help but admitting that it had brightened her day to see Y/N happy.

The last mission, Lima, had taken a toll on everyone’s mental health, and Maria couldn’t help but blame herself for the failure. Four of their top agents had been taken out and the others, who had barely survived, had still not passed their psych evals. Today had been the first time Y/N had been visibly giddy or enthusiastic about anything since then.

:.

“Hi.”

Maria scooted her chair to face the door; head buried in a document as she muttered the lines to herself as she read. Lifting her head slowly, she blinked owlishly at the figure in the door.

“Y/N?”

Y/N hovered in the doorway, still wearing a very flattering suit that Maria couldn’t help but admire. She offered Maria a small but weary smile, shifting from foot to foot.

“Come in, take a seat, how was it?” Maria wasn’t sure if she were acting enthusiastic enough to believably be realistically overjoyed for Y/N having been on a date, but she was sure she could instead pass as being worn out.

Y/N slumped into the hard-plastic chair, which rolled backwards due to her momentum. Unlacing her shoes, she yanked them off and massaged the soles of her feet. She stretched out her stocking-covered legs, gently rubbing circles into the back of her ankles and calves.

“It was horrendous,” Y/N groaned, tilting her head back in exasperation. “I mean, does Tony know me at all? Coulson made me babysit him for 3 years, he should know me better than to set me up with someone like that.”

“Like that?”

“Oh, God, she was about 20 minutes late and didn’t get off her phone the entire time. When she finally made some conversation, it was all about her ex-boyfriends. Like, not even ex-girlfriends. And she was always texting at the table. How rude is that!” Y/N’s cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes were glazed as she yawned, delicately raising a hand to cover a mouth while she stretched out like a cat. Y/N smiled sleepily at Maria as she curled into the uncomfortable chair.

Maria returned the smile softly, somewhat reassured by Y/N’s vehement complaints. “Sounds awful. No second date then?”

“God no, I’d rather be reassigned to… to the Arctic!” Y/N threw her hands up dramatically, the seat wobbling beneath her.

“That can be arranged.”

Y/N was unimpressed by Maria’s dry tone, bottom lip jutting out as she folded her arms sulkily.

A sudden thought popped into her mind. She brightened abruptly, sitting up again. “As if you’d do that. You wouldn’t survive without me.”

“You wish.” Y/N was cute while tipsy, Maria mused, before jolting at the thought. No, she was her supervisor, she could not be thinking like that.

“So, tell me.” Y/N’s chin was slipping off her hand as she yawned, elbow firmly planted on the desk. “I’ve told you how shit my date was, what’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?”

Maria paused as she took a mental step back from all the work thoughts accumulating at the back of her head. “Well, back in high school, it wasn’t really a date. At least, I hadn’t thought it was because I’d just come out. To everyone. And I went out for lunch with a friend, a guy named Tyler and he ended up telling me that he could turn me straight again. He also decided to show me the numerous photos of his penis. He had a whole folder on his phone in different lightings and from different angles.”

Y/N had clapped a hand over her mouth, “That’s horrendous, I don’t think I could ever look at someone the same if they did that. Like unsolicited and all that.”

“Yeah, definitely was the final nail in putting me off men.”

Y/N giggled, a pretty sound that Maria couldn’t help but want to hear more of.

“So,” she began, pursing her lips as she tried to think of how to continue.

“So?” Maria laughed

“Yeah, so, tell me. Is there anyone in your life? Anyone special?”

Maria snorted. “No, God no. I haven’t had the time in all honesty; I’m barely on top of my work, never mind sorting out a love life at the same time.”

“I thought… I thought that you were dating Agent Hayes?”

“No, we broke up a while ago over… mutual difference involving work and personal lives becoming too heavily involved.”

“Okay… so that’s what you wrote on the official forms about your break-up. Now, tell me again with feelings. Come on, let’s have a proper deep chat.”

“Hm.” Maria glanced back at the document she’d discarded back onto the pile and groaned. There was clearly a better option of the two. “Fine. I’m sure you are aware of Agent Hayes’ reputation.” Y/N frowned and shook her head. “As a… honey trap. It seems that she was unable to remove that part of her life from our personal lives and decided to… practice on other agents and people in our lives.”

Maria spoke bitterly, expression twisted in a grimace like she had tasted something extremely sour.

“So, basically she’s a cheating bitch.”

“Yeah.” Maria nodded. That summarised her perfectly.

“Well, fuck her, we don’t need shitty women in our lives. Am I right or am I right?” Y/N’s voice rose as she declared her statement triumphantly, sending Maria a quick grin as she pumped a fist in the air.

“Yes, you’re right.” Maria was tentative, unsure whether she wanted to ask the words on the tip of her tongue. “Anyone else in your life?”

“Well,” Y/N took a deep breath, working up the courage to do something momentous. “I did like someone, but I thought they were dating someone, so I let Tony set me up on an absolutely awful blind date.” Her voice lowered to more of a murmur. “But now I found out that the woman I like is single.”

Maria blinked. Could she-? No. Well, there was no point in not trying. “What if the woman liked you back?”

“I’d probably ask if I could kiss her.” Y/N glanced at Maria’s lips, the glaze in her eyes no longer from alcohol.

“I think she’d say yes. She’d be pretty dumb not to.”

Y/N leant in, and Maria’s breath caught in her throat. She had to be dreaming. Their lips met and every thought flew out of her head as she melted into the kiss. Maria pulled away, laughing at Y/N’s pout.

“Wait. Come here.” Maria patted her lap and Y/N eagerly straddled her legs, one hand cupping her chin, the other on the back of her head. “That’s better.”

She kissed her again, an awestruck expression appearing on Y/N’s face as she grinned blissfully. Maria could smell the sweet scent of Y/N’s perfume invading her senses, everything blurring as her mind focused in on the way Y/N seemed to fit perfectly in her arms. Or the hand gripping the hair at the base of her neck as Y/N kept her head in place, the other caressing her cheek.

As they broke apart again, Y/N stayed on Maria’s lap, wrapping her arms around her neck.

“I have to finish this work, but you’re welcome to stay and help. It’ll go twice as quickly.”

Y/N pecked her lips. “Deal.”

-

Request:  Maria hill x female, tomboy, reader where Maria hears that tony set the reader up on a date with some girl he knew. Maria can’t stop thinking about it and ends up staying up through the night until r dare is over. Reader comes back after the date and they talk and reader makes fun of how bad the date was. (aren’t in relationship but get together after talking)

[kousin-itt]

I Got Your Back - Part 3

WARNING: Violence and blood in this chapter, along with light implied sexual humor.

Part 3

Block pulled up a holographic screen to display the information as he relayed it to Cavendish and Dakota. “The Triton’s Amulet was a priceless jeweled necklace created by a master jeweler and given to the daughter of a family who was feuding with the jeweler’s family. The feud between the families was full-on bloodshed. I’m talking Montague vs. Capulet level, at each other’s throats at all times. The Triton’s Amulet was a peace offering, a symbol of the friendship between the jeweler and the daughter. It was passed down through the generations until it was donated to a museum, where it was stolen by this man: Tyler Cobalt. Cobalt sells the Triton’s Amulet to a black-market dealer, who later dismantles the necklace and sells the parts for profit. That, gentlemen, is what you are going to prevent.”

“So, we are to prevent the theft of the amulet?” Cavendish guessed.

“Oddly enough, no.” Block said. “See, the Triton’s Amulet being stolen prompts the museum to create better security measures, which later prevents worse thefts from happening. You two are going to tail Cobalt until he steals the amulet, and then you’re going to take the amulet from him before he can sell it.”

“Thieving the thief. I like it.” Dakota chuckled.

“Stay sharp, Chuckles.” Block snapped. “You two won’t have a big window of opportunity. Cobalt steals the amulet late at night and then hops on a plane early the next morning to take the amulet to the black market. Based on our research, Cobalt actually gets killed by the buyer once he gets to the black market; but, ideally, you two dunderheads will retrieve the amulet and Cobalt will be apprehended by the police of his era. Be quick, be careful, and be sneaky.”

Dakota caught the backpack Block tossed to him. Cavendish accepted the paperwork with all their mission information. “We will not let you down, sir.”

“Well, you haven’t so far.” Block shrugged. “But I’m not getting my hopes up. Now get out of here!”

A short while later, the Second-Class Time Travelers were in their time vehicle and speeding off into the time stream.

Dakota fiddled with his seat to get comfortable. “When are we getting our own vehicle? I’m tired of this stupid van.”

“It’s a standard time vehicle for in-training and rookie agents.” Cavendish reasoned. “I’m sure we’ll get a new one once we complete this mission. Besides, it’s not that bad. It’s actually one of the newer models, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yeah, but the seats could use new stuffing.” Dakota complained.

“If you don’t like it, why don’t you go lay on that mattress you insisted on putting in the back?” Cavendish jerked a thumb behind him. Indeed, the backseats were folded down and there was a twin-size mattress taking up half of the empty space behind them.

“That’s my napping mattress when our missions take too long.” Dakota protested. “If I lay on it now, I’ll fall asleep.”

“I never took you for the type to care.” Cavendish sighed.

“Eh, go boil your head.” Dakota snickered.

“You’re ridiculous.” Cavendish muttered under his breath.

Thankfully, they arrived in the right time and place soon enough. The darkness of the night setting contrasted greatly with the bright colors of the time stream they just exited. Dakota took out the mission file and punched a location into the GPS. Cavendish followed the directions to the museum while Dakota rummaged around in the backpack Block gave them.

“Typical supplies. Rather boring weapons.” Dakota took out two hand pistols, designed appropriately for their current era. Generally, time travelers only used weapons that matched whatever time period they were in, just in case that weapon were to get lost or taken by someone else in that era. Plus, fewer people would ask questions.

“I hope we do not need to use them.” Cavendish was a decent shot, but he despised guns. They had no elegance, no beauty in them. Not to mention it was far too easy for someone to be killed by one.

Dakota hummed in thought. He looked and sounded more focused than Cavendish had seen before. Dakota didn’t like that Block gave them guns. Not because he hated guns, per se, but because he worried about having to use them. Time travelers weren’t supposed to cause deaths in the past unless absolutely necessary.

Cavendish parked the van around the corner from the museum. He and Dakota exited the vehicle and walked up the stairs to the front door of the magnificent building. Dakota pretended to check the hours while covertly investigating the dark interior.

“According to the files, this building’s alarm system only goes off if someone tries to break and enter.” Cavendish said as they walked down the steps.

“But Cobalt gets away and the theft isn’t even discovered until morning.” Dakota remembered that from the file. “How does he get in without tripping the alarm?” He looked ahead and froze, cursing in Italian. Cavendish followed his gaze and saw their target. Cobalt walked towards them, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a cigarette pinched between his lips. He looked inconspicuous, like a barman walking home from a late-night shift.

“Act casual.” Cavendish whispered.

“Does that mean we kiss?” Dakota teased.

Cavendish bit his lip to keep from exploding in indignation and frustration. How can he be joking around at a time like this?! Cavendish wondered. Dakota sniggered again, and the pair kept walking. Cobalt passed them without a second glance.

Smart. Dakota mused. Act like you don’t exist, like you belong where you are now, and most people glance over you. He pulled Cavendish into the next alley they passed, and they watched Cobalt continue down the sidewalk. Once he started climbing the stairs to the museum, Cavendish and Dakota tiptoed closer and hid behind one of the statues out front. They watched in amazement as Cobalt pulled a key from his pocket, unlocked the door to the museum, and strutted inside like he owned the place.

“Clever.” Cavendish tapped his lip in thought as they returned to their van. “Either he stole the key from one of the employees or he found a way to copy it himself.”

“Now we know how he avoided detection until morning.” Dakota said. They sat in their van, moving it only just enough to see the front doors of the museum. “What do you say we jump him when he gets back? Take the amulet, arrest him, and get back home for lunch?”

“Not likely.” Cavendish said. “Did you not see the bulge in his jacket?”

“Was I supposed to see it? What if it’s inappropriate?” Dakota shrugged.

Cavendish face-palmed. Curse his partner’s crude humor. “I’m saying he very clearly had a gun in his pocket. Best if we wait until he comes out. Then, we will follow him home and steal back the Triton’s Amulet while he sleeps. Less chance of us getting shot.”

Dakota checked the time. “Depending on when he gets back and how long it takes to drive there, that only gives us a few hours before his flight in the morning.”

“We can manage.” Cavendish assured.

The confidence in his partner’s voice put Dakota’s mind at ease. They waited, watching the doors until they spotted Cobalt leaving. Cobalt returned to his own car and drove off, with Cavendish and Dakota safely following him. Cobalt left the brightly lit streets and arrived at a dinghy strip of townhouses. Cavendish parked the van in a dark alleyway. Dakota slung their backpack of gear over his shoulder. Cavendish glanced to his satchel in the backseat, and he decided it would be best if he only had his firearm with him. He and Dakota trailed Cobalt’s car to find which building he lived in. Cavendish and Dakota ducked behind some bushes and watched Cobalt park and enter a house. The lights inside came on, and then flipped off fifteen minutes later.

“He’ll probably sleep for a while before his flight.” Dakota guessed. “Let’s get that amulet.”

“Wait a moment. Give him time to really fall asleep.” Cavendish whispered. “If he locked it in a safe, we need time to hack into it.”

“You can crack a safe?” Dakota looked impressed.

“You don’t know everything about me.” Cavendish shrugged with a rather proud smile.

“I hardly know anything about you.” Dakota said. “We really ought to fix that. What’s your favorite food?”

“You really want to do this now?” Cavendish hissed. “What if someone hears us?”

“It’s just past midnight and all the other houses are dark. Relax.” Dakota scoffed.

“I will relax when the mission is complete.” Cavendish declared.

“And then we can talk more? Get to know each other better?” Dakota suggested.

Cavendish opened his mouth to retort, but conflicting words tangled his tongue. Part of him wanted to scoff and assure Dakota that such a thing wasn’t necessary. Another part of him pleaded to say yes. So Cavendish cleared his throat and returned his attention to the house. Despite his mild fear of the dark, he was happy the shadows could mask his discomfort. Why did he find the idea of hanging out with Dakota enjoyable? What was so appealing about the thought that he and this brutish young man could be friends?

Once they agreed it was safe, Cavendish and Dakota snuck up to Cobalt’s house. Dakota picked the lock to the front door, and they crept into the dark house. Dakota handed Cavendish one of the pistols from his backpack. Cavendish gestured for Dakota to go up the stairs, and Dakota nodded to confirm. The pair split off to search the two-level house.

Even in the near-blackness, Cavendish could register the layout of the connected kitchen and living room area. The first word that came to mind was “pathetic.” From the outdated appliances in the kitchen to the weathered easy chair and cheap TV in the living room, Cavendish deduced that Cobalt was a broke loner, which explained why he would steal for profit. If it were different circumstances, Cavendish would entertain the idea of counseling Cobalt instead of leading him to the police. However, Cobalt’s file outlined a history of drug abuse and distribution to high schoolers, so Cavendish felt little pity for the man destined to be arrested that night.

Must focus. Cavendish reminded himself. The sooner Dakota and I find that amulet, the sooner we get out of here.

As Dakota ventured upstairs, Morgan’s lessons echoed in his head. Never step in the middle of the stairs, where creaks are more likely to happen. Keep low to the ground to delay enemy detection. Be aware of everything around you. Listen; do not hear but listen. Dakota felt a tingle go up his spine. He hated silence. He hated the apprehension that came with sneaking around. Any moment now, he might get caught. He wished Cavendish were at his back.

Upstairs, there were three doors, two of which were closed. Snoring came from one door. By reaching into the open door, Dakota could feel a countertop and porcelain sink for a bathroom. Dakota moved deliberately, closer and closer to the closed doors. Since they neighbored each other, Dakota couldn’t tell where the snores came from. After a quick eeny-meeny-miny-moe, Dakota twisted the knob of one door and pushed it open, ever so slowly.

He nearly cursed in Italian again.

Dakota chose the door to the office space, but Cobalt evidently decided to sleep in his rickety office chair before his early flight. Dakota almost shut the door when a glitter caught his eye.

Figures. Dakota silently groaned. The Triton’s Amulet lay on the desk next to Cobalt. Dakota’s mind raced. What would Morgan do? What should he do? What might Cobalt do if Dakota’s plan failed? Dakota had a thought to awaken Cobalt and arrest him, but Block did make it explicitly clear that Cobalt’s fate should rest in the hands of the authorities in this time period. Dakota didn’t much care for the rules. Still, he had no idea if Cobalt had a weapon on him. Better to grab the amulet and get out.

Quietly, Dakota slipped the backpack off his shoulders and set it aside, just in case he had to make a run for it. With his gun trained on Cobalt’s sleeping form, Dakota took the slowest, most silent steps he could manage. He forced his breathing under control to stay quiet. His eyes flickered fast, focusing on Cobalt for a split second and then spending the next half-second staring at the desk so he would not bump into it. Cavendish was still downstairs.

It only took a minute that felt like an hour to reach the desk. Still, Dakota kept his gun pointed at Cobalt. His fingertips gripped the edges of the trident-shaped, jeweled pendent. Dakota lifted the amulet from the desk and slipped it and the chain into his jacket pocket. Dakota moved back to the door, his nerves settling.

He reached the door, and a light cast his shadow against the wall.

Dakota spun around, safety flicked off on his gun, but the brightness of Cobalt’s flashlight blinded him. Cobalt pushed the gun aside and body-slammed Dakota into the wall. He smashed the door against Dakota’s hand and forced him to drop the gun. Dakota shoved Cobalt back and punched him. The flashlight hit Dakota’s face, and he tasted blood. He aimed low and tackled Cobalt like a linebacker, sending them to the ground where they grappled for control. The erratic movement of the light disoriented them. Cobalt may have been similar in build, but he was fueled by desperation, and a desperate man was hard to fight until you found just the right moment to subdue him.

In the poorly lit space, Dakota didn’t see the office chair and tripped over it while trying to escape. The chair landed on top of him, and then so did Cobalt. The flashlight’s beam hit Dakota’s eyes again. The top of the chair’s backrest pressed against his throat, and Cobalt pushed his entire body weight on the chair to keep Dakota pinned.

“Thought you could swipe my prize, huh?” Cobalt sounded as crazy as he looked. “I got someone willing to pay a fortune for that thing, and you are going to pay big time for screwing with me.”

With the chair pressing against his legs, Dakota didn’t have the proper leverage to push or kick it off him. He struggled with all his might, clawing at the poor-quality leather upholstery. He couldn’t get a breath in. His thoughts ran a mile a minute. Where was his gun? Where was Cavendish? What would happen to him if Cobalt realized there was a second intruder in the house?

Dakota fought to stay alive. The room was getting darker. Was the flashlight going out?

“No!”

Cavendish may be lanky in figure, but his full body weight and force of the blow was strong enough to knock Cobalt off Dakota and send both men tumbling across the floor. Dakota coughed harshly, pushing the chair off him. He could just make out Cavendish and Cobalt exchanging punches. Cobalt kept one hand on Cavendish’s gun to keep it away from him. He punched the time traveler in the eye, breaking his glasses. Driven by adrenaline, Cavendish punched back harder. Cobalt managed to get one good hit into Cavendish’s stomach that knocked the wind from him.

Then, Cavendish felt something hard jab him in his ribs. Just before he realized what it was, a gunshot went off, and burning pain coursed through his torso. In shock, Cavendish hit the ground while holding his side. Cobalt had his gun, aimed right at him. Cavendish flinched, preparing himself for another shot that would hopefully kill him immediately.

“Hey!”

Cobalt turned his attention and gun to Dakota. Five shots left Dakota’s gun in quick succession: one hit Cobalt in the forehead, two hit his chest, one hit the wall, and one grazed Cobalt’s shoulder. Cobalt was dead before he hit the floor. Dakota didn’t need to check for a pulse to know that, but he still kicked the gun from the criminal’s hand before he ran to his partner’s side.

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary - Chapter 28

Warnings: none really

Tagging: @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @valkyrie-of-the-light, @thorsbathroomchicken, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y

The phone call comes in shortly before one pm; the SAT system easily tracing the number back to the Slainte pub.  At first she just blankly stares at the digits and the name on the screen, not having the energy or the patience to deal with whatever bullshit would greet her the moment she answers.  She's in a 'mood'. Rapidly switching from the lowest of lows to the highest of highs;  either dissolving into tears at the drop of a hat or frantically cleaning the room and organizing paper work and files on the lap top. Torn between wanting to curl up in bed and stay there for the entire day, and desperately wanting something...anything...to keep her mind occupied. She's nauseous. Dizzy. A pounding headache that sits at the base of her skull and above her eyes.

Stress. Always the same old, same old when her nerves are shot.  The same symptoms she suffers with for days when Tyler walks out of the house for a job.  Incessant worry accompanied by crippling fear and the deepest and darkest recesses of depression.  But at home she is able to beat it; focusing on the kids, concentrating on their needs, their laughter and their smiles and all of their hugs and their kisses making it all a bit easier to handle.

The SAT phone beeps. Indicating a text message.  Groaning loudly in protest, she throws off the comforter as she lays on her stomach in the middle of the bed, propping herself up on one elbow as she reaches out for the offending object.

You missed a call.  Nik's message reads. Everything okay?

Part of her wants to tell Nik to fuck off and leave her alone.  That it's partly her fault for getting her mixed up into this god awful shitty mess to begin with. Nik could have had her side in the whole thing; adamantly refusing to bring her into the fold, not allowing Yaz and Tyler to call the shots when it came to the Intel and now the tactical sides of things. But Nik had just thrown her under the bus; offering her up like some kind of sacrificial lamb. Acting as if there weren't other people that couldn't do the job. Other mercenaries looking for work. Who were much more experienced. Seasoned. Hardened. Instead of putting all her faith and trust into someone who had become nothing more than a housewife and stay at home mother.

The other part reminds Esme that Nik is her friend. Regardless of her history with Tyler. Nik was the one who'd initially brought her into the fold five and a half years ago; who'd brought her along when she'd gone to the little shack in the Australian outback to recruit Tyler for the Dhaka job.  In a way, it was all Nik's doing; had she not brought Esme aboard and had her tag along that day, this part of her life wouldn't even exist. There would be no Tyler.  No hobby farm in Colorado. No children. She would more than likely still be living the old existence; living out of suitcases as she travelled place to place. Lying. Conning. Getting people to trust her so she in turn could help destroy them.

Fell asleep, she types back.  If it's important, they'll call back.

She waits for the response. And in true Nik fashioned, it makes her want to hurl the phone across the room.

Get your head on straight, E. We don't have time for this.

Sighing heavily, she rolls over onto her back and stares up at the ceiling. One hand on her queasy, cramping stomach, the other holding the SAT down at her side. He's been gone for an hour; McCann had insisted on meeting forty five minutes from Belfast. Worried that there were too many eyes and ears within the city itself and that word would travel fast and the end result would be hell on earth.  He had a lot of enemies within the IRA. He knew too much. Deep and dark secrets that could bring down a lot of very powerful people. And his involvement with someone like Tyler would set off a lot of alarms.

She worries that it's more. Something far more devious. Dangerous.  He hasn't given them any reason to trust him. Right off the hop he'd fed them complete and utter bullshit regarding his New Zealand extraction; convincing them that his wife just nothing but a lowly, random shopkeeper when she'd actually been the reason he'd been hired in the first place. He hadn't gone after on a rescue mission; he'd been hired by the devil to take her straight back to hell.  A man in this thirties wooing and winning a seventeen year old girl that was essentially at his mercy. That alone is extremely troubling. And taking into account his ties to the IRA and possible lingering connections to them, it was easy to assume that his plan to get Tyler nearly an hour away from the safety net of Belfast is also some of ruse. To get him alone and vulnerable.  

Or to hit him where it really hurts and get her alone and vulnerable.

The nausea increases.  Eyes closing as she rubs her stomach in slow, smooth circles, struggling to keep a grip on the runaway emotions.  They normally weren't this bad. Usually she could easily talk herself out of the stress and the panic before they hit head on. But now it feels as if it's going way too quick. Too fast, too soon.  So much worry and anxiety that it makes her head spin and her chest ache.

Her SAT rings once more. The pub. Again.  Only this time she's able to get a grip, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and moving towards her laptop as it sits open on the table by the window.  Once she's within a foot it causes the system to come alive; the recording of the call beginning even before she presses talk.

****

“Hello?”

“Is this Meghan?”

She recognizes his voice.  Billy. The barkeep from the pub.

 “William,” she warmly greets, with the same flirtatious tone she'd used the night before when she'd dropped his full name for the first time. She'd noticed then how it seemed to get under his skin; in a good way.  That little smile that tugged at his lips,  the slight blush in her cheeks and the tips of her eyes, the way his eyes seemed to soften and sparkle.

It had been one the easiest marks of her career.  Most took a while to warm up to her.  Taking weeks to even months to soften up their hardened and weathered exteriors. But he'd been eager; ready to let someone in. And what better someone than an established, attractive, and seemingly available woman? One that would do anything...or perhaps even anyone...to get ahead in the world.

“I hope I didn't catch you in a bad spot. I was wondering if you had a little time to spare.”

“For you?” she leans back in her chair, a barefoot planted against the cool glass of the sliding door. A far cry from the evening before when she'd played the part in her business slacks and curve hugging blouse. Clad now in one of her her husband's tattered and frayed t-shirts and pair of baggy grey track pants with the Emery surfboard company name and logo down one leg; small blotches of bleach dotting the fabric in several places. No make up and her hair messy.  “For you I can make the time, William.”

A silent pause. And she smirks as she leans further back in the chair and places her second foot against the window, twirling a piece of hair around her index finger.

“I like that,” he says.  “The way you call me that.”

“Well that is you're name, isn't it?” she crosses one her legs over the thigh of the other, bouncing her heel up and down against the glass. “You are William, are you not?  That is what Billy is short for, I assume.”

“It is,” he confirms with a chuckle. “It's just that no one has called me that in a long time. Since my wife.”

“You're married?” she reaches over to snag the pen and spiral bound notebook off the table. It's full of random notes and doodles in various different colours of ink; her and Tyler both using it to hurriedly jot down names and numbers and any other bits and pieces of information, vital or not.  It's old school and shouldn't be necessary with the computer recording everything off the SAT, but technology isn't always fool proof.

“I was. We're divorced. Bad break up. She was shagging a mate of mine.”

“Well that's unfortunate,” she hurriedly flips to a fresh page of paper and places the book on her thigh. “Hard to believe anyone would cheat on someone like you. If you forgive me for being so bold, but you aren't exactly lacking in the looks department.  You're quite the head turner. In my humble opinion.”

“Well thank you,” he chuckles, and she can practically see the blush creeping into his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It's not entirely a lie; he is quite easy on the eyes.  And a much younger and single Esme would have considered..albeit briefly...crossing that line between business and personal.  “You're easy to look at yourself. Very easy to look at actually.”

“I take it this isn't a business call,” she muses.  

“Not entirely. It's a little bit of both. Business and pleasure.”

She smirks.  “And what kind of pleasure are we talking about? Because I don't usually get into that sort of thing with someone I barely know.”

“I was thinking dinner. And drinks. If you're free.”

“Well that depends.”

“On what?”

“If you tell me a little more about yourself.  I can't jump into anything with a stranger.  A young woman, alone in a foreign country, far from home. That wouldn't be smart would it? If I just blindly trusted you and took you up on the offer?”

“Well what is you want to know?”

“Well I think dinner and drinks calls for first and last names,” she says.  “You know mine. So...”

“It's Flynn. My last name,”

“William Flynn,” she repeats, as she jots it down. “That has a very nice ring to it. How old are you William Flynn?”

'How old are you?” he counters.

“I asked first. And isn't it always ladies first?”

“I suppose,” he chuckles.  “Twenty eight. And you.”

“Thirty,” she lies.

“I honestly thought much younger,” he admits, and she can't help but let it inflate her ego. And encourage her to continue with the little game. “You look good. For thirty. Very good, actually.  Do you have children?”

“No,” that lie actually hurts to tell it, and she tries to push the intense feeling of guilt to the back of her mind.  “I'm too focused on my career right now. You?”

“A son. He's three. Collin. Lives with his mom. In Dublin.”

She continues to scribble things down.  “That's sad,” she hopes it sounds sincere. “I hope you get to spend time with him. That's quite the trek down to Dublin.”

“Every second weekend. I'd like it to be more often but...” he sighs.  “...it is what it is.  So you're not married? But you still wear a ring?”

“I've had a hard time severing that last string. It's a bitter pill to swallow. When the man of your dreams pick his job over you. When your happily ever after doesn't exactly turn out that way.  He wasn't happy. As a husband. We were much happier before. Before things got too serious.”

“Well pardon me for saying this, but he's a goddamn fool. He has to be to choose work over the likes of you. So have you thought about it? My offer? Dinner and drinks?”

“I'm intrigued,” she admits.  “What's in this for me? Other than the handsome and charming company?”

“I have some information. About what you asked about last night. Michael McMann. About his wife and kids and whose involved and trying to stir up trouble. And I've got some names. Of other people you can contact. That are willing to talk.  People that are higher up than I am. With real connections.”

“Higher up in...”

“The IRA.”

She grins victoriously and in big letters at the top of the page, right under the name William Flynn, prints those three initials.  “You're involved with them? The IRA?”

“It's the family business. What I can tell you is that we're not involved in this. With the wife and kids. We hate the guy. He screwed us over. But we'd never do that. Especially to kids. Even we draw the line somewhere.  But whoever is doing this has pissed off a lot of people. Tempers are running high. We want to find out who it is and do something about it.”

“Like a turf war?”  she writes that down, accenting it with a big question mark.

“There's a lot of trouble brewing, that's for sure. We want nothing to do with this. The wife and the kids. And they're using us to draw attention away from themselves.”

“Any idea who it is?”

“No real proof. Just lots of rumours. I shouldn't be talking about all of this right now,” he gives a small chuckle. “What will we talk about dinner?”

“Oh I'm sure we can find things to talk about,” she assures him.

“Or things to do.”

“Now don't go putting all your eggs into one basket. I'm not that type girl.”

“I'm sorry, Meghan. I never meant anything by it. Forgive me for being too forward. I...”

“What time for dinner? Tonight is unfortunately not going to work for me. I have prior arrangements that can't be cancelled. But if you're free tomorrow, I can certainly clear my schedule.”

“Tomorrow would be wonderful. I know this is terribly bold of me, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You've been on my mind constantly. Since you walked into the bar. You're very...intriguing. I can't quite get a read on you. There's something so different about you. Way different than any of the women from around here.  A mystery, almost. There's so much I'd like to find out.”

“Well if you play your cards right, maybe I'll let you find those things out,” she responds.  

“Tomorrow? Six thirty?”

“How about seven? It gives me longer to get ready.”

“Done,” he agrees. “Where do I pick you up?”

Shit, she hadn't even considered that this question would come up.   It has been smooth sailing; much easier and seamless than so many initial encounters.

“Meghan?”

“You know,  I'm not entirely comfortable with a stranger knowing where I'm staying. I'm a little paranoid about that sort of thing. You can never be too careful in this day and age. How about we meet somewhere? In public. I hate to be such a bother and a worry wart, but...”

“How about we meet her at the bar? We could go in the back room. It's private there. We can have dinner. A few drinks. See where the night takes us.”

She groans internally.   “Sounds like a plan,” she chirps. “I'm very much looking forward to seeing you again. To chatting more.  I'm flattered. That you thought of me.”

“I've been obsessed with you,” he admits.

“Well hopefully you hold onto some of that enthusiasm.  I have to go. I have an online meeting with my editor in a few, so...”

“I'm very much looking forward to tomorrow,” he says.  “And I'm flattered as well. That you'd agree to have dinner with me.”

“I'll see you tomorrow,” she promises.  “Seven.”

“Seven,” he confirms, and then offers a soft, quiet goodbye before hanging up the phone.

****

“Well this isn't how I expected things to go,” Mark says, smirking from the passenger's seat of the rented SUV. “You asking me for help.”

“It's the last thing I want to be doing, believe me.  You're the last person I want to be dealing with.  Ever.”

“So why am I here? What's got the legendary Tyler Rake swallowing his pride and actually asking someone for help? You're usually a one man show from what I've heard. Must be some serious shit if you're willing to suck it up and give someone a call. Especially me.”

Tyler sighs, eyes briefly closing as he pinches the bridge of his nose between the thumb and forefinger. “You're already making me regret this.  Could you maybe shut the fuck up for five seconds? I don't have the time or the tolerance to listen to your bullshit. I don't want to hear any comments about my marriage, no opinions on how I handle things with my wife, no stupid shit about my personal life or my kids or none of that. This is strictly business. So let's keep it that way, yeah?

“Fair enough,” Mark agrees. “So what's up? What's going on?”

“This McMann guy,” Tyler begins. “There's no way of knowing what he's really up to. If he's innocent in all of this or he's actually part of it. If he's the victim in all of this or if  this is some really crazy act of revenge and he's just wanting to get me alone.”

“I thought you didn't have history with this guy? With the IRA? Or with the wife?”

“I don't know. Well, not that I can remember anyway,” he confesses. “There's things...a lot of things ...that I don't remember. Dhaka...everything that happened on the bridge...it's fucked with my head. I'm not sure if it's because of blood loss or lack of oxygen or all the meds I've been on. But there's things I don't remember. No matter how hard I try to.  So maybe I did have history with them. Maybe I did have a job they were involved in and I pissed them off and I just don't remember it.��

“And when you didn't recognize McMann when he showed up in Telluride, he decided to play it for all it's worth,” Mark concludes.

“Maybe. I don't know. He seemed like he was on the up and up. About what's going on with his wife and his kids. But there's a couple times where he's said some things that didn't quite sit right. I brought up how if...when...things go to shit...he might not be able to get his kids out. Not both of them, anyway. He threw it back in my face. Asking me how I'd decide which of the twins to save.”

Mark scowls. “That's a bitch move.”

Tyler nods. “I told him there'd be no decision. That I'd give up my life for theirs. No hesitation. If it meant saving them and getting them back to their mother, that it was something I was willing to do. It would be easier on Esme. If she lost me instead of one of the kids. She'd get over me. But she'd never get over losing one of them. She's an amazing mum. And I'm lucky. To have her. That she's the mother of my kids.”

“It's what she always wanted. Kids. I just wasn't the man to give her that.”

“McMann wasn't on the same page as I was.  The idea seemed ridiculous to him. Having to make that kind of decision.  He wasn't...he isn't willing to sacrifice himself for them. I found it weird. That there'd be any hesitation whatsoever. How do you not want to save your kids? Your blood?  They're your legacy. Why would you not want to let them go on and live long and happy lives? It didn't sit well with me. I haven't been able to get it out of my head.”

“There's guys without kids that would make the same decision as you. I saw it overseas. In Iraq. You probably did too. Soldiers ready and willing to sacrifice themselves to save random kids...and women...from the Taliban.”

Tyler nods. “I've seen it a few times, actually. I've even known mercenaries that have given themselves up to save someone.”

“You almost did,” Mark points out.  “Even after things went to hell and there was no money, you still busted your ass to kid that get out. And Esme.”

“I wasn't going to leave them behind. No matter who wanted me to. And if it meant I died for them...” he shrugs.  “...it was what I was willing to do.”

Mark nods slowly, considering his words. The sincerity in his voice. In his eyes.

“Esme doesn't trust him,” Tyler says. “McMann. And she has great instincts. Better than mine sometimes. She didn't want me going into this alone. She's worried sick. That this could all be a trap and McMann's got an army of guys just waiting to ambush me. I need to give her peace of mind. And I promised her I'd come back safe.  That I'd come back to her.  She trusts you. I don't know why. Considering everything you did to her...” he holds up his hand; a plea for silence when the other man opens his mouth to speak. “....but she trusts you. You're the only one I could call. Yaz was made the same time I was. I can't be seen in public with Esme or she'd be made and that will fuck up her end of things. So I called you.”

“How do you know you can trust me?”

“Because you know I'd fuck you up if you crossed me.  You know I won't hesitate killing you.  And I don't think you want that, do you. You can act all big and bad, walk around wagging your mouth, try to get under my skin.  But you know the stories. All the bloody and gory details. You know what I'm capable of. And you know I won't mind adding you to the body count.”

A smirk tugs at the corners of Mark's mouth. Not nearly as confident as the ones he's given before.

“So this is me, asking you for help. Now are you in or you're out, mate? Because I don't have all day.”

Mark hesitates. Then offers a hand. An agreement. “I'm in.”

****

“William Robert Flynn,”  Yaz reads the information aloud from where he sits at the table in Esme and Tyler's room, his own laptop and ipad spread across the table.  “Born March 15th, 1997, right here in Belfast. Parents are Robert and Elizabeth Flynn. Nee McDonald.  Dad is deceased. 2011. Mother is still alive. Lives in England now. Remarried.”

“How did the father die?” Nik inquires, her image on the laptop screen. “Suspicious circumstances?”

“Coroner's report lists self inflicted gun shot wound to the head.”

“There's a police report,” Esme speaks up from across the table, her own computer in her lap, a plate of barely touched room service food in front of her. She'd been hungry and had taken it as a sign that the nausea was finally at bay. Until the first bite and attempted swallow had her running for the bathroom.  Her head pounds. Frantically. And she reaches for a bottle of water and the container of Advil in the middle of the table. “Says that William Flynn was the one who discovered his father. In the back garden. Face down in a pool of blood. Gun was lying next to him. A nine millimeter. Glock.  Spent shell casing near by.”

“He would have only been fourteen,” Yaz says. “Same age Ovi was in Dhaka. Hell of an age to walk into something like that. Your old man missing half his head.”

“Any evidence that says it may have not been a suicide?” Nik asks.

“The police reports are shit,” Esme replies, as she pops three of the tablets into her mouth and swallows them with a mouthful of water. “I've seen some pretty amateur ones, but this has to be one of the worst. Obviously the cops and the coroner didn't think this case mattered. He was an IRA member. Probably caused a world of trouble when he was around. They were just glad he was gone. Why waste the resources, they probably figured.”

“There was no gunshot residue on his hands,” Yaz says. “Or at least that's what the report says. And he's not wearing gloves in any of the photos, so...”

“It was a hit,” his sister concludes. “Before any of this, was there any connections between the IRA or the Buckmans? Anything that stands out? Anything that could tie Robert Flynn to the Buckmans?”

“Not that we've recovered so far,” Esme says. “But we're still digging.  Robert Flynn was pretty high up in the IRA. One of their best and longest serving members. A real enforcer. He didn't mind getting his hands dirty.  His son is an active member.  They have ties to the IRA going back to the grandfather and great grandfather. Not to mention several cousins and uncles still in the movement. It's the family business, apparently.”

“So William Flynn obviously knows Michael McMann,” Nik concludes. “And vice versa. Anything that shows a feud between them?”

“Nothing on paper,” Esme responds. “But he told me that everyone in the IRA is pissed as hell with McMann. For betraying them. And taking a lot of secrets and dirty shit with him when he left. And now they're even more pissed because McMann's out there saying that it's the IRA that scooped his wife and his kids. And they'd admit to that. The IRA would definitely claim responsibility. They've never denied ties to even some of their broader scale bullshit. So they'd admit to this.”

“We were wondering if maybe this is all a big ploy to make things blow up within the IRA,” Yaz speaks up. “To stir the pot enough that an outsider comes in and starts it all off. That maybe that's what Tyler is being used for. To kick it all off.  What better way for McMann to draw attention away from himself? Let Tyler cause the shit and then leave him hung out to dry.”

Esme sighs, briefly closing her eyes and laying a hand over her queasy stomach.

“Are you okay?” Nik inquires. “You look a little...off.”

“Just stress. This is all just so insane. It's so twisted and so fucked up and now Tyler's out there...alone...meeting with this guy. What if he has people with him? What if he's got a whole damn army behind him and Tyler's just walking into a huge trap? He's good. But he's not that good. He wouldn't stand a chance and you both know it.”

Yaz attempts a reassuring smile. “He'll be okay. He's smart. He knows what he's doing. Your man isn't stupid, that's for sure. Look what he handled in Dhaka. When he went into that apartment to extract Ovi.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Yaz. I do. But there's a huge difference between street thugs in Dhaka and the IRA.  These people are extremely dangerous. Extremely dangerous. And they show no mercy.”

“And neither does Tyler,” he points out.  “If anyone can handle this, it's him.”

“He should never have went there alone,” Esme huffs. “It was dangerous. Foolish. Sending him in by himself.”

“We don't have anyone there to help,” Nik attempts to reason. “Resources are extremely thin. It's the three of you and that's it. And the rest of the team is out on other assignments or they're here helping keep an eye on things. He'll be fine,  Esme. He always is.”

“Oh really? Always? Because I seem to vividly remember him bleeding to death on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. Or are we just forgetting that that happened? Oh wait, it's because you two took off to get Ovi to safety and you left Tyler there to die. And you left me there to watch him die.”

“That isn't how it happened and you know it,” Nik seems hurt by the explanation. “We came back for you. For both of you.”

“Half a goddamn hour later! Thirty minutes I spent with my hand pressed to his neck, trying to keep him alive. While he bled out all over the fucking place. You weren't there. You weren't the one holding him there on the bridge. You weren't the one with blood on your hands. His blood. So I'm sorry if I'm not as appreciative for your help as you'd like me to be, Nik.”

“Okay....okay...” Yaz pleads for calm.  “....let's not rehash this. It's over five years ago.”

“Five years ago, five weeks ago, five days ago,” Esme snarls. “It still happened. And pretending it never did is bullshit. It's bullshit and it's completely disrespectful. To Tyler. To just push it aside like you've both been doing all these years. Acting like it was no big deal. You got him into that mess, Nik. You brought him into that bullshit and then you left him there.  You left both of us there. What would have happened had you not come back? He would have died there. And who the hell knows what would have happened to me once Asif realized he didn't totally finish the job. And let's not forget that you wanted Tyler and I to leave Ovi in the goddamn street. You wanted us to just throw the kid to the wolves.”

“I wanted the two of you out of there,” Nik argues. “I wanted you both safe. The kid held you back. Had you gotten rid of him, both you and Tyler would have made it out of there before everything blew up in our faces.”

“He was a kid! He was a kid and you wanted us to just leave him there! Jesus, Nik. Do you realize how that makes you sound? Like a bloody sociopath.”

Yaz sighs. “This solves nothing. You two going at each other like this. I know it's been a long time coming but...”

“You probably wanted him to leave me there too,” Esme says. “I'm actually surprised you didn't suggest it.  You knew what was going on. Between Tyler and I. And you hated it even then. You hated the idea of me in his life. Because it took him away from you.”

“That's not true. I was pissed off that the two of you were so goddamn reckless and foolish and you actually thought it was good idea to start fucking each other while on the job. You couldn't wait until it was all over? The two of you were that desperate and horny that you had to fuck each other on my time?”

“Enough,” Yaz snaps. “Both of you. This is bullshit. We're all in this together. It doesn't matter what happened back then. It was five and a half years ago. So they fucked each other. No one else gave a shit. No one else cared. Only one it bothered was you Nik.”

“Because she wasn't the one fucking him,” Esme pipes up. “Not anymore, anyway. All the more reason she probably wanted him to leave me in the street. Get me out of the way so she could climb back into his bed again.”

“It doesn't matter,” Yaz insists. “It wasn't going to happen. Once Tyler met you, that was it. It was over. And you...” he glares at his sister through the laptop screen.  “...they're together. It happened. They're married. They've got kids. Let it go already. Let him go.”

“I've had enough of this,” Nik fumes. “We'll pick this up again later. When certain people can actually stay focused on the job at hand. That seems to be a thing for you, Esme. You couldn't stay focused in Dhaka either.”

“Fuck you, Nik. Seriously. Fuck you. I don't need to be here. I'm not one of your employees. I'm helping you, remember?”

No response. Just a black screen signalling the other woman has already logged off.

Yaz sighs, shaking his head in disbelief.  “I know that that's been coming for five and a half years, but shit. Could you not have waited until after we discussed all of this? Was it really that important that you just had to get to it?”

“Don't you start, Yaz. You know everything I said is true. She left us there. On that bridge. While he was dying. While I was trying to keep him alive.”

“What were we supposed to do? We had to get Ovi out of there.”

“Oh I don't know. Maybe it would have been nice to help me get Tyler the fuck out of there. How about that?”

“There was no time. There were going to be more cops. Military even. We had to get Ovi out of there.”

“So to hell with the two people that busted their asses to get Ovi there in one piece right? To hell with the fact that your friend is lying there with a gunshot wound to his throat, bleeding out all over the place. Tyler wasn't useful anymore.  He did what you all needed him to do and it no longer matter what happened to him. And if I just so happened to get killed too, oh well. No big loss, right?”

“We came back. I told Nik we had to go back for you guys and...”

“Wait...wait...” she stares at him incredulously. “...you had to tell her to go back and get us?”

“She thought it was too dangerous. That the situation was still too hot.  She didn't want to ask anymore  lives. But I told her that I couldn't just leave you guys there. That if Asif found out that things weren't finished and he sent more people down there, neither of you would stand a chance. I told her I was going back in to get you guys. Whether she helped me or not.”

“So she was more than willing to leave us there. To leave Tyler there. After what he'd done to make sure he got Ovi there? To get both of us there? She was okay with just leaving him to die?”

“To be honest, we thought he'd be dead when we got back. We didn't expect him to be alive still. We all saw what happened. What were the chances that he'd actually survive that? That you would have actually been able to keep him alive?”

“I wasn't leaving him there. I wasn't letting him die. Do you know what that was like? To go through that? To try and convince someone not to just give up? When dying is much easier than the fight not to? I had my fingers in his goddamn throat, Yaz. I had to stick my fingers in his neck to try and block the artery. I can still feel it. How hot the blood was. I can still feel his pulse against my fingers. And I can still smell it. Like it was yesterday.  Do you have any idea what that was like?”

“No,” he shakes his head sadly. “And I'm sorry you have to remember all of that. That you had to go through it.”

“I didn't let him die on that bridge and I'm sure as hell not going to sit back and let him die here either. Maybe your sister was willing to let that happen, but I'm not.  His life means more than that. A hell of a lot more. He's not the same Tyler he was back then.  The one that had a death wish. He's my husband, Yaz. The father of my children.  And there is no way I'm letting anyone send him out there to die.”

“You're doing what you can. The intel. The tactical.  There's only so much you can do, Esme. Killing yourself isn't going to save him. Getting yourself killed trying to keep him alive solves nothing. Because if something happens to you, he'll put a gun in his mouth. Or he'll drink himself to death. He would not survive that. You know it, I know it.”

She sighs, a frown on her face as she runs a hand over her unsettled stomach.

“You look like shit,” Yaz observes.

“Well thanks. I'm so glad you pointed that out.”

“You're not...you know...”

She laughs. “You have something against saying the actual word? No. I'm not pregnant. We've been trying. But it hasn't happened yet. This is definitely stress. I know the difference. I've been through three pregnancies. I felt the same way with each of them. I knew right away that it wasn't stress and that I wasn't just sick.  This? This is not the like any of those three times. It's definitely stress. Worry. And I miss home. I miss my kids. I just want to go home and see them.”

“Soon,” he promises. “This will all be over soon.”

She gives a shaky, skeptical smile.  

She hopes he's right.

[archiefm]

         ... claws my way up from hell once more and vomits onto the dash.... hello. its nora. i used to write rory bergstrom, but if u were here before that u might remember me as greta or alma putnam or..... som1 else.... an endless carousel of trash children..... this is finn, who i actually wrote for an early version of this rp abt 5yrs back now...... grits teeth..... so forgive me if im rusty i havent written him in a long time but seein honey boy gave me a lotta finn muse n im keen to get Back On The Horse yeehaww...

DYLAN O’BRIEN / CIS-MALE — don’t look now, but is that finn o’callaghan i see? the 25 year old criminology and forensic studies student is in their graduate year of study year and he is a rochester alum. i hear they can be judicious, adroit, morose and cynical, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet he will make a name for themselves living off-campus. ( nora. 24. gmt. she/her )

shakes my tin can a humble pinterest, ma’am....

finn has a bio pasted at the bottom (n written in like.... 2015.... gross) but it’s long  so if u don’t wanna read it here’s the sparknotes summary..... anyway this was written years ago n a lot of it seems really cliche and lame now but..... we accept the trash we think we deserve

grumpy, ugly sweater wearing, tech-savvy grandpa

very dry sense of humour and embraces nihilism. 

if ron swanson and april ludgate had a baby it would be finn

he was raised in derry, just south of dublin.

from a big family. elder sister called sinead. he also has a younger sister (aoife), a younger brother (colm), and a collie named lassie because his father lovs cliches (finn hates cliches but loves his dog). 

his father was a pub landlord and his mother worked at the market sellin fruit n veg when they met but got a job as a medical receptionist when she had kids cos it meant she cld be there with them in the day and work nights.

his parents met when they were p young and fiesty and rushed into marriage cos they were catholic n just wanted to have sex. his family were literally dirt-poor, but they had a lot of love i guess

hmmmmm his relationship w his father wasn’t the best cos i can’t write character who have healthy relationships w their parents throws up a peace sign. yh, had a pretty emotionally distant, alcoholic violent father n so gets a lot of his bad habits i.e. drinking as a coping mechanism and poor anger management from him BUT anyway

as a kid he was never very motivated in class, he always had a nervous itch to be off somewhere doing something else. struggled under government austerity bcso there just wasn’t the resources to support low income families where the kids had learning difficulties n needed support. fuck the tories am i right 

his mum suggested he try sports to help w his restless energy but he was never any good at football so he took up boxing and tap dance instead. he took to tap dancing like a fish to fuckin water. as adhd n found this as a really good way to use his excess energy in a creative way

had a few run ins with the police in his early teens for spray painting and graffiti, but he straightened himself out n now actually considering becoming a detective inspector??? cops are pigs.

he had a youtube channel where he posted videos of him tapdancing and breakdancing as a kid, basically would be a tiktok boy nowadays, n had like... a small fanbase in his early teens. attended several open auditions unsuccessfully, until he was finally cast in billy eliot when he was fifteen.

during billy eliot he began dating an italian dancer called nina. they became dance partners soon after and toured across the republic with various different shows (inc riverdance lol the classic irish stereotype). their relationship was p toxic tbh, they were both very hot tempered people and just used to argue and fight all the time.

he went semi-pro at tap dancing, and nina couldn’t stand being second best so she moved back to italy with her family. ignored his texts, phone calls, etc, eventually he was driven to the point where he used his savings to buy a plane ticket, showed up at her house and she was like wtf?? freaked out and filed a restraining order accusing him of stalking.

he was fined for harassment and then returned home to derry, but after the incident with nina he quit dancing for good and finished his leaving cert before heading to university in the US to get as far away from nina and his past life as poss. and basically since he quit dancing to study forensics (death kink. finn cant get enough of that morgue. just walks around sayin beat u) he’s become a massive grump and jsut doesn’t see the good in people any more.

u’ll find finn in an old man bar drinking whiskey bc he is in fact an old man at heart or sat on his roof smoking a joint, drawing wolves and lions and skeletons and shit, playing call of duty or getting blazed or at the corner of the room in a house party ignoring everyone and scrolling through twitter. is a massive e-boy. always up-to-date on memes and internet slang. has reddit as an app on his phone

not very good at communication. rather than solve his issues by talking, he’d prefer to just solve them through fighting or running away from his problems hence why he has come halfway across the world to get away from an issue which probs cld have been solved w a few apology emails.

takes a lot to phase him, but when his beserk button gets pressed he can become a bit pugnacious like an angry lil rottweiler. in his undergrad he was in a few fist fights but doesn’t really do tht any more as he doesn’t condone violence.

 in the previous version of this rp he was hospitalised like 5 times. pls, give my son a break. stop tryin to kill him. he literaly got a bottle smashed over his head and bled out all over his favourite angora rug that was the only light of his life

works at the campus coffee shop n always whines about how he’s a slave to capitalism. always smells of coffee

lives off campus with an elderly woman named Marianne, and basically gets reduced rent bcos he makes her dinner / keeps her company. they have a great bond

fan of karl marx. v big on socialism

insomniac with chronic nosebleeds

cynical about everything. too much of a fight club character 4 his own good n has his head up tyler durden’s sphincter

always confused or annoyed

statistics

basic information

full name: finnegan seamus o'callaghan nickname(s): finn age: 25 astrological sign: aries hometown: derry, ireland occupation: phd student / former street entertainer fatal flaw: cynicism positives: self-reliant, street smart, relaxed, intelligent, spontaneous, brave, independent, reliable, trustworthy, loyal. negatives: hostile, impulsive, stubborn, brooding, pugnacious, untrusting, cynical, enigmatic, reserved.

physical

colouring: medium hair colour: dark brown, almost black eye colour: brown height: 5’9” weight: 69kg build: tall, athletic voice: subtle irish accent, low, smooth. dominant hand: left scar(s): one on the left side of his ribs from a knife wound that he doesn’t remember getting cos he was drunk distinguishing marks: freckles, tattoo of a wolf howling at a moon allergies: pollen and the full spectrum of human emotion alcohol tolerance: high drunken behaviour: he becomes friendlier, far more conversational than when sober, flirtier, and generally more self-confident.

psychological

dreams/goals: self-fulfilment, travel the globe, experience life in its most alive and technicoloured version, make documentary films, help the vulnerable in society, grow as a human being.

skills: jack-of-all-trades, very fast runner, good at thieving things, talented tap dancer, good in crisis situations, dab-hand at mechanics, musically-intelligent, can throw a mean right hook and very capable of defending himself, can roll a cigarette, memorises quotes and passages of literature with ease, can light a match with his teeth.

likes: the smell of the earth after rain, poetry, cigarettes, shakespeare, whiskey, tattoos, travelling, ac/dc, deep conversations, leather jackets, open spaces, the smell of petrol, early noughties ‘emo phase’ anthems.

dislikes:  the government, parties, rules, donald trump, children, apple products, weddings, people in general, small talk, dependency, loneliness, pop music, public transport, justin timberlake, uncertainty.fears: fear itself, drowning alignment: true neutral mbti: istp – “while their mechanical tendencies can make them appear simple at a glance, istps are actually quite enigmatic. friendly but very private, calm but suddenly spontaneous, extremely curious but unable to stay focused on formal studies, istp personalities can be a challenge to predict, even by their friends and loved ones. istps can seem very loyal and steady for a while, but they tend to build up a store of impulsive energy that explodes without warning, taking their interests in bold new directions.” (via 16personalities.com)

full bio (lame as fuck written years ago..... pleathe...)

tw homophobia

born in quigley’s pub on the backstreets of sunny dublin, young finnegan o'callaghan was thrown kicking and screaming into the rowdy suburbs of irish drinking culture. the son of a landlord and a fishwife, he never had much in the way of earnings, but there was never a dull moment in his lively estate, where asbo’s thrived, but community spirit conquered. at school, finn was pegged as lazy and unmotivated, though truly his dyslexia made it hard for the boy to learn in the same environment of his peers and only made him more closed-off in class. struggling with anger management, finn moved from school to school, unable to fit the cookie-cutter mould that school enforced on him, though whilst academic studies were of little interest to the boy, he soon found his true passions lay in recreational activities. immersed into the joys of sport from as young as four, finn was an ardent munster fan and anticipated nothing more than the day he could finally fit into his brother’s old pair of rugby boots.

his calling finally came unexpectedly, not in the form of rugger, but through dance. to learn to express himself in a non-academic way, he began tap dancing, finding therapy in the beat of his soles against the cracked kitchen tiles (much to his mother’s disgrace). it wasn’t a conscious choice, finn just realised one day that dance was something that made him feel. a king of the streets, finn made his fortune on those cobbled pavements – dancing and drawing to earn his keep. by default, finn became a street artist, each penny he earned from his chalk drawings saved in a jam jar towards buying his first pair of tap shoes. though many of his less-than-amiable neighbours called him a nancy and a gaybo, finn refused to quit at his somewhat ‘unconventional’ hobby, for the young scrapper found energy, life, and released anger through the rhythm of tap. soon he branched out into street dance, hip hop, break dancing, lyrical, his days spent smacking his scuffed feet against the broken patio into the night.

when he was thirteen he took up boxing, and as expected, his newfound ‘macho’ pastime conflicted with his dancing. the boxers called him ‘soft’; the dancers called him ‘inelegant’. he felt like two different people; having to choose between interests was like being handed a knife and asked to which half of himself he wished to cut away. he couldn’t afford professional training in dance, with most schools based in england and limited scholarships available. instead, he made the street his studio, racking up a small fanbase on youtube. when he was fifteen he made his debut in billy eliot at the olympia theatre in dublin. enter nina de souza, talented, beautiful and italian; ballet dancer, operatic singer, genius whiz kid, and spoiled brat. she was selfish, conceited, hell bent on getting her own way, and every director’s nightmare. finn fell for her like a house of cards. he’d always had a soft spot for girls who meant trouble. and so their hellish courtship began.

by the time they were seventeen, the two young swans had danced in every playhouse across the republic. they were known in theatres across the country for their tempestuous personalities, their raging arguments with one another, their tendency to drop out of shows altogether without any notice, yet the money kept rolling in and the audiences continued to grow. for three years, their families continued to put up with their hysterical fights followed by passionate reconciliations. he was too possessive, and she was too wild. their carcrash of a relationship finally came to a catastrophic halt when nina broke off the whole affair and returned to italy with her family. for months finn tried to contact her, yet his phone calls, texts, facebook messages were always ignored, until finally he was driven to drastic measures and used his savings to get a plane to her home town. when finn turned up uninvited at nina’s house she freaked out – and rightly so – she contacted her agent, accused him of stalking her, and had a restraining order placed against him. finn was arrested, held in a station overnight, and charged with harassment before he was allowed to return to dublin.

after the incident with nina, finn lost the fight in his eyes. he became far more hostile, far less likely to retaliate with his own fists, and picked fights not for the thrill of feeling his own fists pummel another into a wall, but for the sensation of his own brittle bones cracking. he dropped his tap shoes in a dumpster, stopped talking to his friends, followed his father’s advice and went back to school to complete his leaving certificate. a few short months later, and finn was packing his bags, saying his bittersweet goodbyes, and travelling half-way across the globe to be as far away as possible from his past self, his mess of a life, and most of all nina. it seemed somehow ironic that the boy who had been cautioned by the garda so much during his youth for spray painting, busking without a liscence, and raucous parties would become the grumpy, aloof overseas student studying a degree in criminology; that his once reckless spirit could be crushed so easily. 

of all things that finn could be called, straightforward would never be one of them. ever since his first days in atticus, the boy was pegged as hostile, hot-headed, cynical, rude. he seemed to spend more time in his thoughts than engaging in conversation. like a ticking time-bomb, finn’s anger was of the calm kind, liable to explode without a moment’s noticed. his unpredictable personality make him something of an enigma to those who aren’t amiable with the lad, though hostile as he may appear, he harvests a good heart. loyalty lies at the centre of his affections, and whilst his friends are few in number, he makes a lifelong partner. somewhere within finn, there’s still some fight left, but mostly he has recognised that his hedonistic lifestyle did little to leave him fulfilled – mostly, it just emptied him out – and over his three years at university has resigned himself to a nihilistic predicament.

        if u wanna plot with me pls pls pls im me or like this post!! i am always game for plots i love em so excited to write with you all here r some ideas

study buddies. finn is now a phd student so has to start takin shit seriously. he gon be in the library every day doing that independent study. if he had ppl who were also regular library goers n they get each other coffees to save time.... tht wld be sweet

ppl who love techno dj sets and going super hard on the weekends!!! fuck yea

friends with benefits. exes on bad terms. ppl he tried to date but couldnt because he’s always emotionally hung up on someone else. spicy hook up plots

ppl he met touring?? maybe ppl who were also in the entertainment industry..... anyone got a character who is ex circus hit me up

does anyone else study criminology / forensics / criminal psych / law? phd students sometimes lecture so he cld be an assistant lecturer / tutor if ur character is in a younger year

gamers !!! social recluses !!! hermits !!

finn goes to the skatepark and all the young boys there think he’s a gradnpa which he is! 

[warsinmyhead]

[Musing] Lesson in Behaving

“Ji.”

The quartermaster continued to focus on his work, fingers tapping away on the keyboard. His eyes glanced briefly at the report he was scanning, before looking to his right.

Seated in the spare chair to his right was Tyler, one wrist connected to the armrest by a coil, courtesy of the Disarm function in Jimin’s Kingsman-issued watch. The other male pushed his lips into a pout and squirmed in the guest chair, trying to catch his boyfriend’s eye. 

“Jimin! I know you can see me!” Tyler whined. 

Jimin pushed his glasses up on his nose and clicked his mouse to send the report off to Merlin. His eyes remained on the screen as he addressed his boyfriend. “Tyler, I said it once.”

“But you didn’t have an issue with us messing around on Christmas!” Tyler protested. 

Jimin sighed as he stopped working and turned to face his boyfriend. Tyler had been waiting in his office when he arrived back and tried to get the quartermaster to relax a bit. Jimin tried to reassure the other that he was fine, but Tyler had tried rubbing his shoulders, suggesting they blow off the paperwork and leave early. When that was dismissed, Tyler had knelt by Jimin’s knees and teased that he’d persuade the quartermaster to rethink doing the boring paperwork. It was just before Tyler could put his hands on his zipper (and in his pants!) when Cham stepped into his office to share her findings after grilling their suspect. Tyler managed to play it off as he dropped a pen by Jimin, joking that he thought he could twirl the pen without dropping it. 

Whether Cham believed the story or not, she excused herself from the office and Jimin scolded Tyler, saying they could have been caught for indecent exposure and harassment. Tyler insisted that it was an accident and whined that Jimin was worrying too much. Now the boyfriend was banished to the chair, Jimin using the watch function as an extra precaution to prevent Tyler from getting handsy again. 

“No one was present Ty,” Jimin reminded him with a pointed look. “I love you and I know you want to go home and cuddle, but you need to wait a bit. I am waiting on Amelie or Nolan to give me the paperwork from their joint mission.”

“They can leave it on your desk.”

“Tyler...”

“Ahn Jimin!”

“Hey, no fighting you two! You’re supposed to – and I’m interrupting something more, aren’t I?” Amelie said as she stopped in the doorway. Her brows raised and she glanced over at Tyler, leaning closer to see the coil around his wrist. She blinked as her eyes stayed on the coil, while her other hand passed over the report. 

“Damn Ji...you are one kinky guy,” she noted. “I’m not sure what kind of roleplay I interrupted –”

“Agent Go, this is not roleplay!” Jimin cut her off, “Tyler decided that he wasn’t going to be patient while I finished my work, so I had to confine him to the chair.”

Tyler cast a sideways glance at Amelie, a hint of a smirk on his face. “Well, I am curious about bondage,” he admitted. “You know Ji, if you were into it, you could have said something.”

Amelie snickered as she trotted to the door, murmuring that she was going to leave the pair be. “I always knew you had a filthy side Grandpa!”

Jimin glared after her and threw the report down on the scanner a bit forcefully. He grumbled curses in Korean under his breath as he waited for the report to finish scanning. Once the computer dinged, stating the file was uploaded, Jimin clicked the mouse furiously to send the document to Merlin. 

He straightened up and switched his watch to reverse the Disarm function on Tyler. The coil slipped off the other male’s wrist and dropped onto the floor. Jimin grabbed his coat and sighed as he slid his arms into the sleeves. Tyler was already on his feet and he picked up Jimin’s briefcase, holding it up with an innocent look. 

“Home now?”

“I’m going home, you’re going to your apartment,” Jimin replied with an irritated look on his face. 

Tyler blinked and watched as his boyfriend began walking out in a huff. He scrambled to catch up after him, groaning as the other stormed up the stairs.

“Ji! C’mon now! Please don’t leave me with the monkey! I’ll be good – I promise!”

@grcvlty

[patriotsnet]

What Republicans Are Running For President This Year

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/what-republicans-are-running-for-president-this-year/

What Republicans Are Running For President This Year

The This Sounds Crazy But Hear Me Out Wild Card

GOP Senator Roy Blunt Says 2022 Will Be a Great Election Year for Republicans

Mike Lindell

Donald Trump wasnt the first celebrity businessman without any experience in elective office who got traction in a Republican presidential primary. In 2012, it was former Godfathers Pizza CEO Herman Cain. In 1996 and 2000, it was magazine publisher Steve Forbes. Back in 1940, utility executive Wendell Willkie snagged the GOP nomination.

Today, who is the most famous, politically active Republican businessman? MyPillow CEO Mike Lindell. That may sound crazy, but no crazier than what we experienced in 2016.

Lindell is a leader of the bitter-enders trying to overturn the democratic results of the presidential election. He claims to have spent $1 million on legal work and Stop the Steal rallies to support Trumps delusional cause. On December 19, he tweeted out a call for Trump to impose martial law in these 7 states and get the machines/ballots! though he soon deleted the post.

He became a conservative darling in part because he heavily marketed his pillows on Fox News; in the second quarter of 2020, MyPillow was Fox Newss top advertiser, spending more than double the amount of the second-place company. But now he accuses Fox News, and its early call that Biden won Arizona, of conspiring to defeat Trump

What to watch for in 2021:While Lindell has been thinking about a Minnesota gubernatorial bid, he has managed to visit neighboring Iowa several times in 2020. Lets see which state he campaigns in more in 2021.

Filed Under:

Former Un Ambassador Nikki Haley

Haley gets a lot of buzz, and she has been actively courting attention since leaving the Trump administration almost two years ago. Jared Kushner and Ivanka Trump even considered pulling her in last summer to replace Vice President Mike Pence on the 2020 ticket to help with Trumps ailing numbers among women a move the husband-wife White House duo fervently denied.);

Haley moves up a notch based on consistent exposure since June, a prime speaking slot at the Republican National Convention on Monday night, and a strong showing of 11 percent support in the most-recent 2024 poll.;

The former South Carolina governor can stake claim to being popular among the world of Washington pundits and professional political types, many of whom were interviewed for this story and spoke very highly of her. But she has also been dinged by some operatives as more of a media creation than a serious contender for 2024.

Leaving the job was hard, but putting family first was more important. And I think now its about taking it a year at a time, she said earlier this year during a meeting of the Federalist Society.

William Henry Harrison Vs Martin Van Buren

Aware that Van Burens problems gave them a good chance for victory, the Whigs rejected the candidacy of Henry Clay, their most prominent leader, because of his support for the unpopular Second Bank of the United States. Instead, stealing a page from the Democratic emphasis on Andrew Jacksons military exploits, they chose William Henry Harrison, a hero of early Indian wars and the War of 1812. The Whig vice-presidential nominee was John Tyler, a onetime Democrat who had broken with Jackson over his veto of the bill rechartering the Second Bank.

Studiously avoiding divisive issues like the Bank and internal improvements, the Whigs depicted Harrison as living in a log cabin and drinking hard cider. They used slogans like Tippecanoe and Tyler too, and Van, Van, Van/Van is a used-up man, to stir voters. Harrison won by a popular vote of 1,275,612 to 1,130,033, and an electoral margin of 234 to 60. But the victory proved to be a hollow one because Harrison died one month after his inauguration. Tyler, his successor, would not accept Whig economic doctrine, and the change in presidential politics had little effect on presidential policy.

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Im Running For President Because Its Time For New Leadership Because Its Time For New Energy And Its Time For A New Commitment To Make Sure That The Opportunities Getting Out There Being Able To Hear Peoples Concerns Address Them With New Ideas Has Been An Extraordinary Experience He Said

Biden thought hard about running in 2016, but he decided against it, being so soon after his son beaus death and. Running for president of the united states is an. But there is so much more to it. Joe biden opposed president reagans peace through strength that led to the fall of the berlin wall. And speaking of brand image i read the program of warren recently, and was tempted to give her a french honorary citizenship as she is trying to import.

Eight Republican 2024 Candidates Speak In Texas Next Week But Not Trump

WASHINGTON, April 30 A Republican Party event in Texas next week will hear from eight potential candidates for the partys presidential nomination in 2024, without former President Donald Trump, a source involved in the planning said on Friday.

The May 7 event at a hotel in Austin is being co-hosted by U.S. Senator John Cornyn and Texas Governor Greg Abbott, to thank donors who helped fund a voter registration drive and get-out-the-vote efforts in the state.

High-profile Republican politicians who are considering whether to seek the partys nomination in 2024 are expected to speak to the crowd of about 200 donors.

They include former New Jersey Governor Chris Christie, Arkansas Senator Tom Cotton, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis, former Vice President Mike Pence, former Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, and U.S. senators Marco Rubio, Tim Scott and Rick Scott, the source said.

The event comes as Republicans wrestle with whether to try to move past Trump in the next election cycle or fall in line behind him. Trump told Fox Business Networks Maria Bartiromo on Thursday that he was 100% considering another run after losing in 2020 to Democrat Joe Biden.

Trump was not invited to Texas, the source said. Former South Carolina Governor Nikki Haley was invited but was unable to attend, the source said.

Many Republican insiders doubt Trump will follow through on his musings about running for president in 2024, leaving a void that other party leaders will seek to fill.

Also Check: Kaine’s Lapel Pin

Notable Candidates Include Individuals Who Have Qualified To Appear On Enough State There Were 21 Candidates On The Ballot Each In Vermont And Colorado

Bush said in retrospect that the divisiveness of the primary challenge might have cost bush reelection. There are several people running for the republican nomination, but given the current president is a republican, he is the only one that matters. Notable candidates include individuals who have qualified to appear on enough state there were 21 candidates on the ballot each in vermont and colorado. While the republican and democratic nominees will be on the ballot in all states, independents must meet an array why is he running for president? Former congressmen joe walsh announces republican presidential primary challenge.

But it can be repaired by someone who can lead, and i ran for president to win and make a difference in our great country, swalwell photo: Since the current president is democrat, we already know who the democrat running for president will be . The only other person running worth mentioning is bill weld, former governor of massachusetts, who was the libertarian nominee for vp back in 2016. Other republicans have made it quite clear they dont see a path to the nomination for anyone but trump in 2020. I think that as a republican party, we have lost our way. mark sanford.

Lincoln Chafeewho Is He

The failson scion of a Rhode Island Republican family, Chafee served in the Senate as a Republican ; as governor, as an independent and then a Democrat ; and then ran for president as a Democrat in 2016.

Is he running? No. He filed papers to run for the Libertarian Party nomination on January 5, but dropped out on April 7.

Why did he want to run?

Who wanted him to run?

Could he have won the nomination? Given that he dropped his bid even without any serious rivals in the race, apparently not.

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Abortion Rights Drinking Age Drugs And More

At present, Weld is a member of the Council on Foreign Relations. Self-described as strongly pro-choice when it comes to abortion rights, he is also said to believe that drug use should not be considered a criminal offense. He feels the drinking age should be lowered but has not stated at what age it should be set.;

When it comes to matters of the military, Weld also draws a conservative line. He feels that America should withdraw its troops from foreign engagements and that the countrys efforts and resources should be refocused on domestic issues, in order to prosper.;According to Aljhazeera.com, Weld previously supported bans on assault weapons in the US.

Sen Elizabeth Warren D

Colorado’s only Republican governor elected within last 50 years says presidential race is over

After establishing a presidential exploratory committee just before New Year’s Day 2019, Warren officially joined the race in February with an event in Massachusetts.

“This is the fight of our lives,” the senator said. “The fight to build an America where dreams are possible, an America that works for everyone. I am in that fight all the way.”

The progressive candidate who ran against corruption and pumped out more than 50 policy proposals during her campaign, suspended her run after a lackluster finish in all four early voting states and on Super Tuesday — where she even came up short in her home state. Her best finish was in Iowa, where she came in third.

“I will not be running for president in 2020. But I guarantee I will stay in the fight for the hard-working folks across the country who’ve got the short end of the stick, over and over,” she told reporters at a media availability in Cambridge, Massachusetts, on March 5.

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Cancellation Of State Caucuses Or Primaries

The Washington Examiner reported on December 19, 2018, that the South Carolina Republican Party had not ruled out forgoing a primary contest to protect Trump from any primary challengers. Party chairman Drew McKissick stated, “Considering the fact that the entire party supports the president, we’ll end up doing what’s in the president’s best interest.” On January 24, another Washington Examiner report indicated that the Kansas Republican Party was “likely” to scrap its presidential caucus to “save resources”.

In August 2019, the Associated Press reported that the Nevada Republican Party was also contemplating canceling their caucuses, with the state party spokesman, Keith Schipper, saying it “isn’t about any kind of conspiracy theory about protecting the president;… He’s going to be the nominee;… This is about protecting resources to make sure that the president wins in Nevada and that Republicans up and down the ballot win in 2020.”

Kansas, Nevada and South Carolina’s state committees officially voted on September 7, 2019, to cancel their caucus and primary. The Arizona state Republican Party indicated two days later that it will not hold a primary. These four were joined by the Alaska state Republican party on September 21, when its central committee announced they would not hold a presidential primary.

Virginia Republicans decided to allocate delegates at the state convention.

Dwight D Eisenhower: Campaigns And Elections

The Campaign and Election of 1952:

During an extraordinary military career, Dwight D. Eisenhower had done some things that few, if any, Americans had ever experienced. But he had not done something that was extremely commonhe had never voted. Yet in 1948, many Americans hoped that the general would cast his first ballotfor himself as President. Even Harry S. Truman tried to interest Eisenhower in a run for the presidency. As the election year of 1948 approached, Truman, who became President when Franklin D. Roosevelt died in 1945, seemed to have little chance of winning a full term of his own. In a private meeting, Truman proposed that he and Eisenhower run together on the Democratic ticket, with Eisenhower as the presidential candidate and Truman in second position. Eisenhower rejected this astonishing offer and probably thought that he would never again have to consider the possibility of a run for the White House. He also spurned requests from prominent Republicans that he seek the GOP nomination for President.

Campaign Difficulties

“There was a time when I thought he would make a good President… That was my mistake.”

President Harry Truman, 1952

The Campaign and Election of 1956

The President Prevails

Read Also: What Republicans Voted To Impeach The President

Presidential Campaign And 2011 Hints At Presidential Run

In 2000, Trump for nomination as the Reform Party candidate for the but withdrew from the race in February 2000. A July 1999 poll matching him against likely Republican nominee and likely Democratic nominee showed Trump with seven percent support.

In 2011, Trump against President Barack Obama in , making his first speaking appearance at the in February 2011 and giving speeches in early primary states. In May 2011, he announced he would not run, and he endorsed in February 2012. Trump’s presidential ambitions were generally not taken seriously at the time.

Trump As A Stalking Horse

Of course, there was plenty of speculation during the race for the 2016 Republican presidential nomination that Trump was trying to sabotage the GOP candidates by saying outrageous things and making a mockery of the process in a bid to help Hillary Clinton win the election.

“Donald Trump is trolling the GOP,” political reporter Jonathan Allen wrote. Trump also threatened to run for president as an independent, a move many believed would siphon votes from the Republican nominee as other, similar candidates have done in the past.

Recommended Reading: How Many Americans Are Registered Republicans

Former Secretary Of State Mike Pompeo

If the 2024 election turns into a foreign policy debate, the 57-year-old Pompeo is in a strong position with his background as former secretary of state and CIA director.

During Pompeos recent speech at the Westside Conservative Club in Urbandale, Iowa, he gave a preview of some of the lines that might end up in his presidential stump speech. He said hes spent more time with North Korean leader Kim Jong Un than any other American, including basketball star Dennis Rodman, and talked about the threat he sees from China. His mention of the U.S. moving its embassy in Israel to Jerusalem during his tenure was met with applause.

Before serving in Trumps Cabinet, Pompeo blasted then-candidate Trump as an authoritarian. Pompeo made the remarks the day of the Kansas caucus in 2016, quoting Trump saying that if he told a soldier to commit a war crime, they would go and do it. Pompeo said the U.S. had spent 7½ years with an authoritarian president who ignored the Constitution, referencing former President Barack Obama, and we dont need four more years of that.

Pompeo served three full terms representing Kansas in the U.S. House before joining the Trump administration. He and his wife, Susan, have one child. He graduated from the U.S. Military Academy and Harvard Law and served in the U.S. Army.

Donald J Trump Vs Hillary R Clinton

The 2016 election was unconventional in its level of divisiveness. Former first lady, New York Senator and Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton became the first woman to be nominated by a major party in a U.S. presidential election. Donald Trump, a New York real estate baron and reality TV star, was quick to mock fellow Republicans running for the nomination as well as his democratic opponent.

In what many political analysts considered a stunning upset, Trump, with his populist, nationalist campaign, lost the popular vote, but won the Electoral College, becoming the nations 45th president.

Popular Vote: 65,853,516 to 62,984,825 . Electoral College: 306 to 232 .

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Former South Bend Indiana Mayor Pete Buttigieg

Buttigieg first made a national name for himself with a bid for Democratic National Committee chair in 2017. He was the youngest candidate in the 2020 race, and could have become the first gay man to be elected president.

While he trailed many of his opponents in name recognition early on, Buttigieg argued that he could represent a generational shift in government, and speaks frequently of issues that will affect younger Americans, such as tax reform, gun control and climate change.

“I get the audacity of somebody like me talking about running for this office, but frankly it’s a leap for anybody,” Buttigieg said on ABC’s “This Week” in February. “And yet all of the people who had that job have been mortals who just bring their experience to the table. My experience is that of guiding a city through transformation, and I think a mayor at any level has the kind of executive frontline government experience and, by the way, problem-solving experience that we need more in Washington right now.”

Late on March 1, following the South Carolina primary and ahead of Super Tuesday, he said “the path has narrowed to a close” and announced that he was suspending his 2020 presidential campaign.

Trump Remains 2024 Candidate Of Choice For Most Republicans Poll Shows

How GOP retirements are making the 2022 midterm elections a Trump referendum

59% of Republican voters said they wanted Trump to play prominent role in party, but tens of thousands left after Capitol riot

If the 2024 Republican presidential primary were held today, Donald Trump would be the clear favorite to win big. That was the message from a Politico-Morning Consult poll released on Tuesday, three days after Trumps acquittal in his second impeachment trial, on a charge of inciting the insurrection at the US Capitol on 6 January.

Among Republican voters, 59% said they wanted Trump to play a prominent role in their party, up a whopping 18 points from the last such poll, taken in the aftermath of the Capitol riot. A slightly lower number, 54%, said they would back Trump in the primary.

Tens of thousands of Republicans left the party after the Capitol insurrection, and a majority of Americans have told other pollsters they would like to see Trump banished from politics.

Though the 45th president will be 78 by election day 2024, he will be able to run again if he chooses, having escaped being barred from office after a 57-43 Senate vote to convict with seven Republican defections but 10 votes short of the majority needed.

Mike Pences life was threatened by Trump supporters at the Capitol, as the vice-president presided over the ratification of electoral college results confirming Trumps defeat by Joe Biden. He placed second in the Politico-Morning Consult poll, with 12%.

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[operativehq]

after almost twenty four hours after the submit has closed and 11+ hours of reading applications and making painstaking decisions, the long-awaited acceptance post has come. i’d sincerely thank every single applicant for applying because i really don’t lie when i say that i read through every single app and had to make some very tough decisions, some that hurt my heart because almost every app came neck and neck with each other. this entire experience has been surreal -- i never expected for my plot idea to take off so incredibly and for such kind words to be said about it. i definitely did not anticipate 43 apps to end up in my inbox and to have such dedicated and patient applicants. thank you so much to everyone who’s been a part of this experience already, i really, really can’t say it enough or articulate it well.

to people who are not accepted -- i really mean it when i say that i wish i could accept everyone. every single app went beyond my expectations, and if you weren’t accepted it is NOT a testament to your writing abilities or anything personal. having to pick ONE person out of so many apps, or ELEVEN out of FORTY-THREE ?? it’s nearly impossible. it breaks my heart to not be able to accept THIRTY-TWO apps that were so beautiful. i strongly encourage people who weren’t accepted to keep an eye on this rp in case any openings or expansions occur in the future, because i’d really love to have people reapply. i wish i could type with the conviction and passion that i’m feeling right now when i say that every app blew me out of the water, but now i’m repeating myself over and over again. ( if anyone would like feedback on their app or for me to send their app back to them, please let me know over the course of this week. )

with that said, under the cut are the eleven accepted applicants. please send in your accounts within TWENTY-FOUR HOURS and be sure to check out the CHECKLIST as well as the inbox of your character blog once you send in your account so i can send invites to the ooc discord chat !!

CONGRATULATIONS LAURA ! YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED ACCESS TO THE FILE OF AGENT AURUM, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS MALCOLM WEBB ( REECE KING ). 

holy crap, laura !! your writing is amazing !! you really made malcolm come alive, with everything from your edits to your stunning biography and description of his personality. my heart really hurt for malcolm while i was reading about his background and you really provided so much depth behind the surface-level rich kid. you displayed his vulnerabilities and desires incredibly well. also, i love how you even added depth to the way his skills ?? thank you so, so much for applying, love, and welcome !!

CONGRATULATIONS EMILY ! YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED ACCESS TO THE FILE OF AGENT CRIMSON, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS RAFAEL BOLÍVAR ( TYLER POSEY ).

emily -- can we talk about the way you write for a sec ?? it’s absolutely phenomenal. you took a darker twist to crimson than i could have imagined and i loved every second of it. your backstory for him is incredibly unique to me and i’m so excited to work with his narrative throughout the rp !! beyond that, you really know your character well !! i was blown away by your para samples -- the way you wrote his connection with nikolai and also that drabble about him and tony ?? you have such a knack in your writing to be able to sympathize with your muses, like oh my god. i’m so glad you applied and i can’t wait to see how you develop rafe !!

CONGRATULATIONS CHRISTINA ! YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED ACCESS TO THE FILE OF AGENT CYGNUS, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS RHYSAND ATTWOOD ( HARRY STYLES ).

you truly went above and beyond, christina, and i am honestly so glad you came out of retirement from the rpc to apply !! the cygnus competition was so, so tough, but i kept coming back to your application. not only is your writing incredible, every facet of your application was so detailed it was clear that you had an understanding of rhys !! the thing that completely sold me was that you wrote about every connection rhys would have and how rhys would act and that was so great to see !! i also loved your twist on rhys & odessa’s connection ?? i also love his potential development and the way you tied his story into the plot !! i can’t wait to write with you, love, welcome to operative !!

CONGRATULATIONS TERESA ! YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED ACCESS TO THE FILE OF AGENT HAWTHORN, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS CALLIOPE MAXWELL ( CARTIA MALLAN ).

my goodness, i absolutely loved your app, teresa !! it was so unique and i loved how you showed how much depth callie had and the development that she has gone through and will continue to go through. i just loved the twist on her backstory and how she didn’t start off too kind ?? you made the skeleton of hawthorn three-dimensional and complex !! also, your ideas for her goal and how to extend it into a plot in the future was so creative and intriguing, i can’t wait to explore it more with you, love !! also, the liberties you took with your para sample absolutely paid off !! i loved seeing callie’s perspective on the provided connections. welcome, teresa !!

CONGRATULATIONS JULIE ! YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED ACCESS TO THE FILE OF AGENT HYALUS, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS DANAË BAUTISTA ( CLEO LAZULI ).

hyalus was another tough decision, but julie, i absolutely loved your take on hyalus. not only did the memes and vines make me laugh out loud, but you gave such a fresh perspective on our resident hacker. just the aspects ( and perhaps irony ) of her father’s condition made me incredibly sad, but it provided a ton of depth to danaë ?? and i loved the fact that you gave her the label ‘ the icarus ’, the way you explained it made me love danaë even more !! also, your research for the role literally had me with my mouth open while i was going through your app ?? and the fact that you included a family tree / timeline ?? your dedication is unreal. thank you so much for applying and i can’t wait to see danaë on the dash !!

CONGRATULATIONS RHINE ! YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED ACCESS TO THE FILE OF AGENT MERCURY, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS LYSANDER SEO ( LEE JONG SUK ).

the competition for mercury was probably one of the toughest -- every single app i read for that role was filled with so much effort and talent, that i kept going back and forth between so many. but rhine -- i strongly believe that you have an ability to paint with words. as i kept reading, i was just swept away by your writing ability ?? every single sentence was like a masterpiece !! and the way you wrote lys and his backstory was something i’ve never really seen before, and the amount of research you put into it was amazing !! while i was reading it all, i was internally screaming out of astonishment for your writing and sorrow for lys. he has so much depth and you understand him so well !! i cannot wait to see you play lysander on the dash and in events !!

CONGRATULATIONS EL ! YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED ACCESS TO THE FILE OF AGENT NOX, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS KINGSLEY LIM ( BANG YONGGUK ).

el, el, el !! your writing is insanely beautiful and by the end of your app, i felt like i understood king extremely well. his backstory had me crying and i loved the way you made nikolai a tether for king. also that pinterest ?? organized from head to toe had me already screaming, but then your explanation for each color and what it meant... it had me on the floor, quite honestly. your understanding of king and the very dark take on nox’s skeleton was stunning to read !! and those last two lines of his bio ?? had me weeping. in any case, i can’t wait to see kingsley develop here and welcome to the rp !!

CONGRATULATIONS GUBSE ! YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED ACCESS TO THE FILE OF AGENT OPHIDIAN, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS OLIVER KNIGHTLEY ( XAVIER SERRANO ).

goodness, the depth you gave ophidian was astounding  -- the anger, the loneliness, the flirtations  -- it was all wrapped up into oliver so perfectly ?? and then your development questions... the way you answered them ?? your writing is absolutely amazing !! it's a different vision i had for ophidian, but that’s in no means a bad thing. it's exactly why i loved it so, so much. just the line " he looks in the mirror. ' what are you capable of ? '" gave me shivers. i absolutely cannot wait to see how you play oliver on the dash. congratulations and welcome to operative !!

CONGRATULATIONS MINNIE ! YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED ACCESS TO THE FILE OF AGENT PHANTOM, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS JIYOON ARIELLA HAN ( PARK SOOYOUNG ).

everything from the biography, to the stats, to the connections, to your character’s goal... all i can say is wow !! i also absolutely loved the pinterest boards that went along with the biography !! every twist and turn that your writing took me on had me love every minute. it was a different take than i expected for phantom, but you captured the skeleton’s essence and really made it your own !! the explanation of her personality just confirmed that you were the one for phantom !! your writing is spectacular and i truly can’t wait to write with ariella !!

CONGRATULATIONS HONEY ! YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED ACCESS TO THE FILE OF AGENT PHOENIX, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS FRANCIS KANG ( JEON JUNGKOOK ).

holy shit, honey. i was weeping for francis and i really loved your take on phoenix’s connection and the depth you put behind him. i loved how much of a facade he put up & your depiction of him and odessa !! besides all that, your writing is gorgeous !! your in-character paragraph for phoenix really sold it for me !! you really have a good grasp on francis, and your creativity with his background / personality has me so excited to see where he goes and how he’ll develop !! thank you so much for applying and welcome !!

CONGRATULATIONS CLEO ! YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED ACCESS TO THE FILE OF AGENT SCORPIUS, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS ANGELINA DELAROSA ( CINDY KIMBERLY ).

the scorpius decision was probably the toughest of the whole acceptance process -- each app was absolutely amazing and i was struggling to pick just one. but i kept coming back to yours. your writing is almost poetic, and the way you wrote angelina was something that really pulled at my heart. the fact that you gave so much depth to the scorpius skeleton, beyond just a seductress, really gave it to me !! also, your paragraph samples, your explanation on her personality ?? my goodness, i could really tell that you understood angelina, from the way you wrote her goal, to her despair following nikolai, to the way you even wrote a drabble about her first mission... and the way you described those aesthetics as well !! your app had me absolutely floored !! you’re such a talented writer, and i can’t wait to see where you go with angelina !! welcome to the roleplay, love !!

[hawkinsninth-a]

Harry Potter verse write-up thing I’ve been meaning to do for months

There will be two versions, both under the same tag because I’m too lazy to work out two separate ones.

The first is just generic HP stuff, Kelly Tyler being a muggle-born student who doesn’t know anything about the magical world. She grew up knowing that she was different, and is very happy to be at Hogwarts.

The second falls more in-line with my muse’s canon. Brenner and the Hawkins lab somehow discovered the magical world and have since been working to try and figure it out. Over time he stumbled across some children that had...unusual talents that their parents couldn’t control or explain, and he took them off their hands.

Each child was sent to a separate lab, their records being well-hidden enough that no-one knows where they are now apart from Brenner himself.

The Ministry eventually caught on to what was happening and started to track the children; so far only the child designated 009 has been found and has been sent to Hogwarts, with the aim of integrating her into the magical community.

Hogwarts stuff under the cut

The birth name Kelly Tyler was found in her file, so she’s slowly getting used to being called that rather than Nine.

While technically she should be in 4th/5th year, she has had no formal magical education and is therefore very behind in many subjects. In an effort to keep her from feeling too out-of-place in the school she was tutored to a basic level, and then placed into individual classes based on her skill-level in each. (For example she is very good at non-verbal incantations so her more spell-based classes are fairly age-appropriate, with others like Potions and History of Magic being more in the second/third year level.)

Given her lack of family to send messages to, she took a grey tabby cat as her pet rather than an owl. Names aren’t her strong suit, so his name is Kitty.

She spends school holidays at Hogwarts and the summers with a foster family, spending the majority of that time being tutored.

She was sorted into Hufflepuff. Her wand is “Redwood wood with a unicorn hair core, 9 ½" and pliant flexibility”. Her patronus is a unicorn. (all from pottermore)

[knotfodder]

-

[achos-laazov]

too ridiculous to forget

“Love in Washington doesn’t happen every day.”

Also on AO3 and FF.net. Part 1 | Part 2

3. post-disaster acceleration

It's not like Emily to be late, you muse, watching the news coverage of Miracle on The Potomac Peter MacLeish with Seth. As if reading your mind, she comes rushing in a moment later, muttering something about the trains not running yet.

Huh? You side-eye her. The Red Line went back up in middle of last night. But before you can ask her, President Kirkman comes in, and you mentally file it away for later.

There's a blackout and maybe another attack how in the world did anyone hack our network that leaves all of you feeling more vulnerable than before, if even possible. When you finally do jokingly confront Emily, you're surprised at your reaction. You're happy she's happy. Emily's a good person who deserves joy. It's the way your heart drops at her mention at a boyfriend that shocks you.

"Love in Washington doesn't happen every day, Emily," you tell her, "you're one of the lucky ones."

And why am I suddenly not one of those few?

The meeting with Congresswoman Hookstraten is over as its starts, and you're back in PEOC again to see the terrorist's video and then out before the President's first televised interview.

You and Emily walk him down the hall to the media. Emily and Kirkman seem to be having a conversation in eyebrow gestures while you tell the President he should appear in command, smart; approachable, relatable; he interrupts with his own idea.

"What about sincere?"

Sigh. His political innocence is almost adorable. "Sincere can work. You can go with sincere if you want."

Elizabeth Vargas is winding down her interview - sincerity is working well for the President - when she suddenly throws a curveball.

"Mr. President, were you fired?"

"Sir?" You move to intercept. Kirkman suddenly seems unsure of himself, and he accepts your lifeline gratefully. He meets you and Emily outside.

You explain, you discuss, you argue and just agree with me already but Emily has other plans. Her commitment to honesty is slightly frustrating and impressive at the same time. She's as fiercely loyal to the truth as she is to her boss. They make a good team. President Kirkman will be in good hands if he picks her as his Chief of Staff.

You roll your eyes in disbelief and exasperation at what the President has elected to say. You start calculating what pitches you can toss out of your arsenal if America doesn't rally behind their President.

Robert Richmond's funeral is a weird mix of political and emotional. Richmond was a good boss, and you do miss his experienced professionalism. But you've been running on an adrenaline high and a caffeine drip since the attack which feels like years, not days; shouldn't be enjoying a funeral. It's quiet and peaceful in Arlington, and maybe you can use the venue to start working through your feelings and begin to grieve for your fallen friends.

And then Tyler Richmond tosses out a nasty slider that leaves you with a sinking feeling.

As the Congresswoman gets up to speak, you ask Emily under your breath, "Still think it was a good idea to tell the truth?" It's mostly serious but halfway an attempt at starting your game again.

It's late at night after a long day. Like every day since the Capitol blew up.

You've leaked classified interview. You've been confronted by an angry president. You've volunteered to resign in appeasement. You've given Kirkman a pep talk; a weird but necessary thing for the unexperienced president.

You've been promoted instead of fired. That was a surprise.

Emily stops by the darkened office to congratulate and semi-jokingly threaten your job.

You frown. She's got a fiancee now. "You're really the lucky one," you tell her.

"I said no," she says, and quotes your words from earlier that day as the reason why.

Thoughtfully, you watch her turn to leave. I've made an impression on her; and in turn, her ambition has made an impression on you. She leaves Charlie's office.

Wait, no, it's my office now.

[marymosley]

Don’t Mess with Texas! Pierce Bainbridge “Expands”… While More Partners Quit

As we shelter-in to combat the global Covid-19 crisis, social media has been abuzz about the new Netflix train wreck of a documentary that is The Tiger King.  For those partial to such entertainment, the recent events at Pierce Bainbridge Beck Price & Hecht LLP has likely been a treat.  The wreckage has been non-stop, the most recent including:

John Mark Pierce ousted as managing partner for Ponzi-scheme-like financial foul play.

Name Partner David L. Hecht is gone from the firm leaving behind brutal commentary from his partners and the media.

Two lawsuits filed against the firm related to questionable lending practices. A quote reported in Law360 from a Philadelphia lawyer, who claims in one of the suits that Pierce Bainbridge reneged on a settlement agreement, seems to capture potential root causes of the torrent of issues plaguing the firm.

Mukasey Frenchman & Sklaroff LLP has filed to withdraw as counsel for Pierce Bainbridge in connection with ex-partner Don Lewis’s lawsuits. The Mukasey filing suggests ethical concerns are preventing its continued representation. By cutting ties the Mukasey firm took a different approach than the two other firms who have represented Pierce Bainbridge in connection with Lewis. Putney Twombly Hall & Hirson LLP (Michael D. Yim) and Littler Mendelson ( Jeanine Conley) remain loyal Pierce Bainbridge foot soldiers apparently willing to continue to “swallow some risk,” an expression used by John Pierce to describe Pierce Bainbridge attorneys.

Around 30 attorneys have quit Team Pierce in the last several months. An updated roster of defectors is below.

The Mass Exodus Continues

The carnage appears never-ending, two additional partners have quit — Franklin Velie and Jonathan Kortmansky. Both Velie and Kortmansky were previously partners at Sullivan & Worcester LLP; both have landed at BraunHagey & Borden LLP.  Kortmansky, similar to Michael Pomerantz (formerly of Grais & Ellsworth) before him, has removed Pierce Bainbridge from his LinkedIn.

Kortmansky’s apparent shame, stands in stark contrast to the commentary both he and Velie offered when joining the firm.

“I am delighted to be joining Pierce Bainbridge and to be able to offer our clients the extraordinary advantages this dynamic firm offers. Pierce Bainbridge is stocked with talented, experienced litigators and, importantly, seasoned trial lawyers.” ~ Franklin Velie

“Pierce Bainbridge is at the apex of trial skills and innovation, and it is an honor and privilege to join a firm so prepared to meet the 21st century needs of its clients.” ~Jonathan Kortmansky

It appears that like many before, Velie and Kortmansky were suckered in by John Pierce.

Kortmansky is not the only ex-Pierce Bainbridge partner attempting to hide the fact that he was associated with Pierce Bainbridge Beck Price & Hecht LLP; even name partner David “like a cult member” Hecht is attempting to cleanse his record of any affiliation with the firm.

Hecht’s apparent embarrassment stands in stark contrast to his prior Pierce-lite musing that “we are fixated on world domination;” a claim Hecht made in an January 2019 interview with Above the Law; an amusing statement given the calamitous Pierce Bainbridge fall from grace.

Messing with Texas – Pierce Bainbridge Enters the Lone Star State

The bad news has not stopped the previously self-proclaimed “Fastest Growing Law Firm in the History of the World,” from continuing expansion efforts.  The newest stop:  Austin, Texas.  The office was “Co-Founded” by Pierce Bainbridge “Associate” Jonathan Raymond Dillion who also claims to have “Co-Founded” the firm’s New York Office.  (A screenshot from Dillon’s LinkedIn page is below.)

Oddly, however, the firm’s webpage makes no mention of an office in Texas.  Be that as it may,  one Texas connection of which we are aware is a UCC filing dated July 2019.  The filing specifically refers to the “Uniform Commercial Code of Texas” as controlling.  As Pierce Bainbridge had no Texas operations at the time, this suggests a Pierce Bainbridge funder located in the Lone Star State.

                                                                            “Big Hat, No Cattle”

The personal free-fall of firm founder John Mark Pierce has been breathtaking, Pierce has been exposed badly as the quintessential case of the “emperor has no clothes;” or, as they say in Texas, “Big Hat, No Cattle.” For example, one of Pierce’s many ridiculous statements….

Pierce’s hyperbolic prophecy is yet another example of far more Delusion than Reality from the Pierce Bainbridge founder.

The Crown Princes of Pierce Bainbridge Dishonesty

Firm partners Christopher N. LaVigne and Denver G. Edwards have embraced and adopted the dishonest ways of the defrocked King Pierce.  According to Lewis:

“LaVigne and Edwards filed an action pro se, about internal firm issues, and they lied under oath.  Their lies were financially motivated.  They lied to protect Pierce, smear me, undermine my allegations of financial misconduct, which LaVigne had complained about himself, and to ensure their paychecks kept flowing.”

This hallmark deceit was on display when Pierce Bainbridge last opened a new office.  Indeed, while the future of the firm’s Austin operations is unclear, Pierce’s commentary when the firm opened in Boston, juxtaposed with reality, may provide insight.  In covering the opening in Boston, Meghan Tribe provided a platform for Pierce in The American Lawyer:

“We are building an army of killers on a highly collaborative platform,” said founder John Pierce, promising his young firm would “take over Boston in short order.”

A little over a year later, with the recent departure of partner Conor McDonough, it appears the number of Pierce Bainbridge attorneys “taking over Boston” currently stands at Zero.  (The Pierce Bainbridge website no longer lists the firm’s attorneys in any office.) If so, we hope McDonough was kind enough to turn off the lights.

The lights might be on elsewhere, however. As recently reported by LawFuel, former Pierce Bainbridge partners Yavar Bathaee and Brian Dunne have founded a new firm Bathaee Dunne LLP. The new firm remains a mystery but does appear to maintain close ties with Pierce Bainbridge and could see more departed PB attorneys join.

The Roster of Recent Pierce Bainbridge Defectors

FORMER PB PARTNER NEW OR FORMER FIRM Eric Creizman Armstrong Teasedale Caroline Polisi (formerly Creizman LLC) Deborah Renner Renner Law Jeffrey Alexander Wachtell Missry Jeffrey Newton Kobre Kim Joan Meyer Thompson Hine Melissa Madrigal Armstrong Teasedale Michael Winograd Brown Rudnick Susan Winkler Winkler Law Theodore “Ted” Folkman (formerly Murphy King) Thomas Frongillo (formerly Fish & Richardson) Yavar Bathaee Bathaee Dunne LLP Brian Dunne Bathaee Dunne LLP Michael Pomerantz (formerly of Grais & Ellsworth) Franklin Velie BraunHagey & Borden LLP Jonathan Kortmansky BraunHagey & Borden LLP Conor McDonough (formerly of Paul Weiss) FORMER COUNSEL NEW OR FORMER FIRM Kristin “Krissie” Darr (formerly Linklaters) Julie Capehart BraughnHagey & Borden Matthew Rand (formerly McKool Smith) FORMER PB ASSOCIATE NEW OR FORMER FIRM Aaron Gold Orrick, Herrington & Sutcliffe Abbye Ognibene Hagens Berman Sobol Shapiro Barron Flood Herbert, Smith & Freehills Cassie Black (formerly Sullivan & Cromwell) Clairborne Hane Kasowitz Benson Elizabeth DeGori Kirkland & Ellis Matthew Kokot (N/A) Minoti Patel Grant & Eisenhofer Stephen Farrelly Browne George Ross W. Tyler Perry Reid Collins & Tsai

The post Don’t Mess with Texas! Pierce Bainbridge “Expands”… While More Partners Quit appeared first on Legal Desire.

Don’t Mess with Texas! Pierce Bainbridge “Expands”… While More Partners Quit published first on https://immigrationlawyerto.tumblr.com/

[doctor-who-hears-a-horton]

To Live a Better Life (Ten x Rose)

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter: 4/?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: Rose Tyler has been the secretary to the CEO of Gallifrey Inc. for nine years, and she’s ready to move on with her life. But when Mr. Smith proposes something less than practical in lieu of her resignation, what will she say?

Read it on AO3 here!

Lunch was painful, to put it simply.  Rose had a hard time dealing with Mr. Smith in the office, but out of the office, and when he didn’t want to talk about work, things were nearly impossible.  He kept asking her questions, weird questions about her favorite places to go and favorite things to eat.  Her head spun with his questions, and his hand kept twitching as though he wanted to write it down.  She had to stop herself from frowning at him several times.

“Why are you asking me all of this?”

“Nevermind that.  It’s not important.”

Rose pursed her lips and looked down at her plate.  “Right,” she said tightly.  “Don’t tell me.  But didn’t you want to talk about Lynda’s employment?”

He blinked at her. “Ah. Yes.  That. Well, you have to know that I trust your judgement very much, Miss Tyler. Also, I’ve seen how neat you keep all your files from your years of working here, so I’m sure you’ll be just fine in training her.”

“So wha- what was the point of this lunch?” Rose asked, “If it’s not a business lunch?”

“Don’t you worry about it.  How’s your food?”

He continued to ask her questions until they went back to the office, and by that time she was so sick of him that she told him only to buzz her if he absolutely needed her.

“I have some things I need to catch up on,” She told him, smiling pleasantly.

He seemed to accept this and she sank into her chair, settling in for a long day of whatever this was.

When Rose left the office, she went straight back to her flat to make herself dinner.  After kicking off her shoes and settling in, she heard her phone ring.  No. No.  He was not doing this to her.  Looking down at the screen, she saw his name on it and balled up her fists.

“Yes, Mr. Smith?”  She said through gritted teeth.

“Come outside.”

“What?”

“Come out- is there something wrong with your ears?” “No, there isn’t.  What do you need?”

He huffed out a frustrated breath.  “Just come outside and you’ll see.”

Rose hung up on him, angrily shoving her feet into her sneakers and throwing a cardigan on over her outfit from the day, which she hadn’t even had the chance to take off yet.  She left her flat and stood on the balcony, staring down at him.  He was standing outside his car and smiling up at her.  He had a nice smile, she had to admit to herself.

“What did you need from me, Mr. Smith?” She asked.

“Have you ever been on a yacht?”

Rose blinked. “N-o… Why?”

“Well, see, I have my yacht for the night but I have no one to go with, so I was wondering if you would tag along.  Dinner included, of course.”  

Rose wanted to say no.  But she had sort of wanted to go on Mr. Smith’s yacht ever since she’d found out he had one.  And it was decently warm out.  She couldn’t really justify saying no.  So she nodded.

“If that’s what you want, Mr. Smith,” She said patiently.  “Give me a minute to lock up my flat and I’ll be down.”

He seemed pleased by that answer and nodded to her, leaning back against his car.  She went back into the flat to lock up, wondering if she should be angry or not. At the very least, she would be getting a free dinner, a nice dinner, in comparison to whatever she would’ve been having at home.  Something canned, she mused to herself.

After making sure her flat was secured, she went down and got into the car, barely sparing a glance to Mr. Smith.  The second they were in the car though, she had her questions and she needed them to be answered.

“Mr. Smith, you’ve got to tell me why you’ve invited me to your yacht.  Out of nowhere.’ He glanced over at her as he started the engine. “Well, I wanted to go, but it’s not recommended that I go alone when I want to go on trips like this.  I’m very valuable, you know.”

“Yes, Mr. Smith.  But don’t you have a crew?”

“I do have a Captain, who was not happy that I called him so late, mind you, but I pay him enough that he wasn’t too concerned about it,” he raised an eyebrow at her. “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

Rose blushed, much to her own surprise, and looked away from him.  “Because it’s odd, Mr. Smith, and I think it’s odd that you don’t find it odd.”

“Well, I think you also deserve to have a bit of fun before you… Leave.” He seemed tos pit the last word out, like he didn’t want to say it at all.  “Figured this might be a nice… Start.”

Rose wanted to tell him that it was far too late to facilitate any sort of friendship between the two of them. Their relationship was strictly professional, after all, and it always had been.  But all of a sudden, he wanted to take her onto his yacht, and though his mentions of marrying her had stopped, she didn’t particularly feel like she was safe from him saying more of the same.

Instead, she just nodded. “If that’s what you want, Mr, Smith.” “It is, thanks.”

The drive to the pier was quiet, because when they weren’t talking about work, they didn’t talk at all.  There wasn’t a particular reason for it, in fact, Rose had the suspicion that they had more in common than he would ever let on, but he didn’t like to talk about his personal life, and so Rose never talked about hers.  Sometimes he would ask, though, little, hinting questions that she should tell him more about herself.

But what was the point if you still didn’t know anything about the other person?

Rose pulled her sweater tighter around her when they got out of the car and headed towards the dock. She could tell right away which boat was his.  The most lit up: strung with white lights on the sides and up around to the top of it.  She squinted a little.  That didn’t look like the typical set up for a parked yacht, but then again, she didn’t really know enough about yachts to say anything about it.

“Isn’t is lovely?” He asked, completely enthused.  He gestured his hand out to the boat.  “I call it The Tardis.”

“Oh, interesting,” she said politely.

He kept on beaming. “It’s clever, I know.”

He preceded her onto the boat, which was par to the course of how they walked together, and Rose began to wish desperately that she’d said no to coming along with him. It was already awkward, and it probably was best that they didn’t see each other outside of work. He’d already crashed a date for her, and she couldn’t say that she knew where any of it was coming from.  She blew out a sigh and forced a professional smile on her face trying desperately trying to make things feel normal, at least to her.  She needed normal until she left.

“We’ll have dinner on the deck,” he announced, and she noticed a table with two chairs sat on the deck, right near the edge of the boat.  “Once we set sail.”

Her mind raced. Wasn’t this supposed to be more casual?  Like something simple and friendly?  This looked suspiciously romantic.

She turned to look at him to read his face and saw that he was already looking at her.  She caught an odd softness in his gaze but it was gone after she blinked.  It shook her enough that she couldn’t think of anything to say to him.  She swallowed.  “Okay,” she said lamely.  She was still painfully confused, but he didn’t look like he was going to reveal anything else.

Mr. Smith told the captain they were all ready to go, and Rose felt the boat lurch under her feet. She stumbled a bit and ended up grabbing onto his arms and looking up into his stoic face. She pulled back immediately.

“Sorry, sir,” she forced out, wishing for the millionth time that she’d said no to this whole thing.  

“It’s quite alright.  Would you have a seat?”

They sat down and the captain brought dinner out to them, which consisted of well cooked steaks and mashed potatoes.  Rose couldn’t really remember the last time she’d had a steak; it had to have been a couple years at least.

But talking to Mr. Smith wasn’t something that she was necessarily accustomed to.  “Mr. Smith, do you want to discuss your plans for tomorrow?”

“I’d rather not talk work if that’s alright with you,” he said, making it clear that he wasn’t talking about it at all.  “I did want to ask you about something.”

“What’s that?”

“You said part of the reason you want to leave is because you want to get married.  I just don’t understand why you can’t get… Do that, and also stay working for me.”  He looked a little sad, like he wanted her to stay for more than just the convenience that she brought him.  That confused her more than anything else.  

“Well, Mr. Smith, I’m on call for you all the time. I haven’t been able to go out with friends or my mum since I started working for you. I think most people I know have forgotten about me,” she laughed lightly, trying to keep him from feeling bad, if he could feel bad at all.  “There’s more to life than work.’

He stopped for a moment, fork halfway to his mouth, and set it back down on his plate.  “I suppose you’re right.  I’d still like you to stay.  And my offer-”

“Mr. Smith, I’m not marrying you.  There’s no…. I just…  I don’t know what to say.  Hang on.  Is that what this is?”

“What?” He arched his eyebrows in mock confusion.

“Are you trying to get me to marry you?  Is that why you drove to my flat and asked me to come here with you?  That’s why you made me come to lunch with you today?”

“I’m very charming,” Mr. Smith said. “You won’t find a more eligible bachelor than me in the entire nation, and I’d take very good care of you.  My genes are also unmatched.”

Rose narrowed her eyes at him.  “Your genes?”

“Yes.  We’d have very healthy children.”

Rose shot to her feet.  “Mr. Smith. Take me home.”

“We- we’re out on the water, I-”

“I will pretend, for your sake, that this did not happen tomorrow.  I promise.  But you don’t understand how women work at all, Mr. Smith.  This wouldn’t win anyone.”  She blew out her cheeks.  “You know what, I’ll stay and eat, because I’m starving, but then you’re taking me back home and I will see you at the office tomorrow.”

He looked… Hurt.  His brows were drawn together and he watched her carefully, as though searching for one piece of her that wanted to marry him.  Rose had to acknowledge that he was attractive, but she couldn't do that. She wanted to be in love.  She wasn’t sure that he knew how to love anyone, really.  

The silence dragged on for far too long, and she sat back down, beginning to eat.  She didn’t even look at him, hearing him start to eat his own meal.  The air was heavy around them, and Rose had thought seconds ago that she’d known why, but now she didn’t.  There was an odd sort of tension that wasn’t there before, and she half wanted to jump into the water and swim back to the pier.

Then the fireworks started.

Rose jumped at the first one, but upon seeing the burst of color, got to her feet and headed to the edge of the boat.  “Oh,” She said softly.  “I wonder what’s going on to cause these?”

Mr. Smith came up next to her.  “I ordered them,” he said, “I thought you might like them.”

She frowned and looked at him.  “Did I ever tell you that I liked fireworks?”

“I heard you tell Martha, once.”

She looked back to the fireworks, letting the exciting, nostalgic feeling coast over her in the most wonderful way.  She found herself smiling a little, remembering parades she’d watched with her mother, picnics in the summer… When she had time.  She remembered then why she was so annoyed with Mr. Smith to begin with. Because he never gave her any time.  She ignored the heat of his body next to her as she watched the display, and felt him watch her.

When it was over, she swallowed her pride slightly and looked at him.  “Well, thank you for that.  I… The fireworks were nice.”

He smiled, preening a little. “They were, weren’t they?”

The yacht headed back towards the pier, and Rose told Mr. Smith that she’d take a taxi home.

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you, sir.”

“It wouldn’t be inconvenient.”

“I insist,” she smiled her most office-friendly smile at him.  “You drove me out here, and our homes are in completely opposite directions. And we should both be in the office early tomorrow so we can meet with Lynda.” He sighed through his nose and turned away from her.  “I suppose, if that’s what you want.”

“It is,” she nodded.  “But thank you for the… Thought.”  sort of, she added mentally.  

What she didn’t see was as she walked away to catch a taxi, Mr. Smith pulled out his mobile and dialed in a number quickly.

“Jack? I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” A groggy voice replied on the other side.  “It’s… God, John, it’s midnight!”

“Yes, can I come over to talk to you.”

“You’re my friend, but you’re also my boss.  Am I allowed to say no?” “No.”

“Ugh.  Fine, come on over.  I’ll be ready when you get here.”

Mr. Smith hung up, hoping to have this whole thing sorted out before morning.

[jorgemiroslavjarasalas]

Jorge Miroslav Jara Salas: Wine News: What I’m Reading the Week of 6/17/18

Text Size:

06.18.2018

Welcome to my weekly roundup of the wine stories that I find of interest on the web. I post them to my magazine on on Flipboard, but for those of you who aren’t Flipboard inclined, here’s everything I’ve strained out of the wine-related muck for the week.

Why Is It So Hard to Be a Mom in the Wine Business? Because the wine industry is at least as sexist as everywhere else.

Not everything is rosy in the world of rosé wines Everyone is getting into the game.

Marissa Ross Of Bon Appétit: The Sprudge Wine Interview An interview with the comedienne turned wine commentator.

Why Is DRC the World’s Most Coveted Wine? Tyler Colman tells the story.

French Winemakers Are Flocking to South Africa-Here’s Why Cheaper than Burgundy for sure.

Drones showing their value in vineyards Temperature variations tell an interesting story.

Winemakers and science combine forces in Tasmanian project to find key to better bubbly Faster autolysis is the goal.

Prosecco Loses Some of its Sparkle Maybe in the UK. It’s still going strong in America.

A New Conference Plans to Bring Women in Wine Together for a Positive Change Sounds like a fine way to spend a Saturday.

Last Batch of Wine From Burgundy Producer Jayer Fetches $35 Million Burgundy for big bucks.

Not all wines are vegan. Here’s how to find ones that are. Dave McIntyre proves that it’s a long answer.

The White to Watch: Sémillon Comes into Its Own Sara Schneider on the white dark horse.

Central Otago gaining global attention for its sake wine production – ‘It’s all hand-made’ Sake from NZ. You heard it here first.

Mastering Wine’s Toughest Challenge Do you have what it takes?

Going Beyond Austria’s Grüner Veltliner Austria has so much more.

Meet the 26-Year-Old Sommelier Behind Maude’s Coveted Wine Collection A story of achievement.

The Seven Deadly Sins of Wine Sales AKA, how to avoid jail or fines if you’re selling wine.

Chardonnay, the Oregon Way Eric Asimov on Oregon Chards.

An MBA in Wine Is a Shortcut Into the Booze Business Elin McCoy pens something of a how-to guide.

Why Rosé Is the Best Wine to Drink on a Flight Fruit, apparently.

Meet the Women Changing Argentina’s Wine Industry A list of the ladies.

In Caves and Monasteries, Clues to Wine’s Startling History Kevin Begos goes back to the roots

Lafite’s new chatelaine Jancis talks Saskia.

Patrick Cappiello Shifts From the Floor to Wine Brokering A superstar wants better life balance.

The Big Parkerization Lie Methinks the lady doth protest too much. (But she does make a few good points).

Has Rosé Gone Too Far? Taste-Testing 10 New Pink Outrage Elin McCoy takes one for the team.

The Why, When and How of Wine Blending Sean Sullivan reports from Washington.

The 2018 Master of Wine exam papers So you think you know wine?

Pleasing palate and pocket Jancis on value.

What makes for a healthy, dynamic wine region? Jamie Goode muses.

Smith: Portugal Needs to Raise its Wine Prices This is probably true.

What’s all this rain doing to the 2018 vintage? It depends on where you are. Dave McIntyre reports.

The Long Battle to Make Petaluma Gap California’s Newest Wine Region Sara Schneider details the odyssey.

Magenetic Treatment Could be Used to Remove Off-flavours in Wine Interesting science.

Examining the Fallout from Napa’s Measure C What’s next?

Posted by: Alder on June 18, 2018 6:15 PM

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Wine News: What I’m Reading the Week of 6/17/18

nWelcome to my weekly roundup of the wine stories that I find of interest on the web. I post them to my magazine on on Flipboard, but for those of you who aren’t Flipboard inclined, here’s everything I’ve strained out of the wine-related muck for the week. nnWhy Is It So Hard to Be a Mom in the Wine Business? nBecause the wine industry is at least as sexist as everywhere else. nnNot everything is rosy in the world of rosé wines nEveryone is getting into the game. nnMarissa Ross Of Bon Appétit: The Sprudge Wine Interview nAn interview with the comedienne turned wine commentator. nnWhy Is DRC the World’s Most Coveted Wine? nTyler Colman tells the story. nnFrench Winemakers Are Flocking to South Africa-Here’s Why nCheaper than Burgundy for sure. nnDrones showing their value in vineyards nTemperature variations tell an interesting story. nnWinemakers and science combine forces in Tasmanian project to find key to better bubbly nFaster autolysis is the goal. nnProsecco Loses Some of its Sparkle nMaybe in the UK. It’s still going strong in America. nnA New Conference Plans to Bring Women in Wine Together for a Positive Change nSounds like a fine way to spend a Saturday. nnLast Batch of Wine From Burgundy Producer Jayer Fetches $35 Million nBurgundy for big bucks. nnNot all wines are vegan. Here’s how to find ones that are. nDave McIntyre proves that it’s a long answer. nnThe White to Watch: Sémillon Comes into Its Own nSara Schneider on the white dark horse. nnCentral Otago gaining global attention for its sake wine production – ‘It’s all hand-made’ nSake from NZ. You heard it here first. nnMastering Wine’s Toughest Challenge nDo you have what it takes? nnGoing Beyond Austria’s Grüner Veltliner nAustria has so much more. nnMeet the 26-Year-Old Sommelier Behind Maude’s Coveted Wine Collection nA story of achievement. nnThe Seven Deadly Sins of Wine Sales nAKA, how to avoid jail or fines if you’re selling wine. nnChardonnay, the Oregon Way nEric Asimov on Oregon Chards. nnAn MBA in Wine Is a Shortcut Into the Booze Business nElin McCoy pens something of a how-to guide. nnWhy Rosé Is the Best Wine to Drink on a Flight nFruit, apparently. nnMeet the Women Changing Argentina’s Wine Industry nA list of the ladies. nnIn Caves and Monasteries, Clues to Wine’s Startling History nKevin Begos goes back to the roots nnLafite’s new chatelaine nJancis talks Saskia. nnPatrick Cappiello Shifts From the Floor to Wine Brokering nA superstar wants better life balance. nnThe Big Parkerization Lie nMethinks the lady doth protest too much. (But she does make a few good points). nnHas Rosé Gone Too Far? Taste-Testing 10 New Pink Outrage nElin McCoy takes one for the team. nnThe Why, When and How of Wine Blending nSean Sullivan reports from Washington. nnThe 2018 Master of Wine exam papers nSo you think you know wine? nnPleasing palate and pocket nJancis on value. nnWhat makes for a healthy, dynamic wine region? nJamie Goode muses. nnSmith: Portugal Needs to Raise its Wine Prices nThis is probably true. nnWhat’s all this rain doing to the 2018 vintage? It depends on where you are. nDave McIntyre reports. nnThe Long Battle to Make Petaluma Gap California’s Newest Wine Region nSara Schneider details the odyssey. nnMagenetic Treatment Could be Used to Remove Off-flavours in Wine nInteresting science. nnExamining the Fallout from Napa’s Measure C nWhat’s next? n

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