#lfl.intro

[likeakiss]

licking blood from your teeth. a raised scar. the old east end. testing the cut on your lip with your tongue. a loud bang from somewhere in the distance. ringing in your ears. refusing to change. slicking back your hair. whiskey and cigarillos. shoot first, ask questions later. remembering where you came from. having to fight for everything you’ve got. violence as a language that everyone understands. exit wounds. the pig-headed belief that you’re always right. struggling to let things go.

statistics.

full name:  joaquin vidal nickname(s)/alias(es):  keen, the crooked hand name meaning:  established by god age:  fifty-seven date of birth:  april 16th star sign:  aries place of birth:  poplar, london (now tower hamlets) current location:  lambeth, london gender:  cis-male pronouns:  he/him sexual orientation:  bisexual religion:  raised catholic (not a very good catholic) occupation:  mob boss family:  david flores (father, estranged), alejandra franklin (née vidal, mother), bernard “bernie” franklin (step-father, estranged), ricardo “ricky” franklin and antonio “tony” franklin (half-brothers, estranged), emilia franklin (half-sister, estranged) “sweeney todd” (ex-wife) education level:  didn’t even get his o levels (old man equivalent to gcses) living arrangements:  a modern warehouse conversion in stockwell financial status:  wealthy spoken languages:  english, spanish

inspirations.

reggie kray (legend) harry (in bruges) tyler durden (fight club) euron greyjoy (game of thrones) maxwell roth (assassin’s creed: syndicate) reyes vidal (mass effect: andromeda) bill sykes (oliver twist)

biography. (tws for poverty, xenophobia, violence, unhealthy relationship dynamics)

A third generation Peruvian immigrant, Joaquin Vidal has never known any home but London. Born and raised in Poplar (a notoriously impoverished area of the city) life was always going to be a struggle for his family - for stability, for money, for respect - but struggle they did. Joaquin’s grandparents went about things the old fashioned way, sacrificing every last shred of their dignity to scrape together enough money to take over the lease on the local newsagent after the previous owner passed away. They managed it, just barely, but even at the tail-end of the sixties, Poplar wasn’t the most tolerant of places, and the shopfront was regularly graffitied or worse.

By the time Joaquin was born, the Vidals had come to realise that London’s streets weren’t paved with gold, as they had hoped they would be when they arrived in England. They had their shop, true, but it wasn’t enough - the family was still living on top of each other, three generations packed into two rooms, living hand-to-mouth. His mother, Alejandra, was only sixteen when she discovered she was expecting, and a wedding was quickly organised in a desperate attempt to hang on to the precious little respectability the Vidals had garnered within their community. It was only two years before Joaquin's father vanished into the night, never to be seen again.

Joaquin was still young when he started looking for trouble (or when trouble started looking for him, as he’d always insist). He was a handsome, charismatic teenager, with a swagger in his step and an appetite for violence that only comes from feeling like you’ve got something to prove. It seemed as if he was destined for gang life from the get go, smoothly transitioning from playground bust-ups and brawling in the streets to the well-paid world of underground fighting. Joaquin was a workhorse in the ring, a surprisingly lithe figure that categorically refused to stay down, and it made him a hugely valuable commodity as a prize fighter. He would do whatever it took to win, and then some.

It was around this time that he set his sights on a woman known to the Jolly Rogers as Sweeney Todd. The former Crooked Hand, a man by the name of Alistair Winchester, had heard of Joaquin’s success on the underground fighting circuit, and was actively trying to recruit him to his cause. Sweeney was Alistair’s niece, and had been embroiled in the workings of the gang since she was very young, meaning she was already well established as a career assassin. Joaquin was drawn to her immediately - he knew they were made for each other.

As his relationship with Sweeney developed, Joaquin became as assimilated into the Jolly Roger lifestyle as she was, working his way up from pit fighter to contract killer in a matter of years. He would always prefer working with his hands (or, rather, his fists), but he learnt to wield a gun with precision and deadly force. As a rule, Joaquin and Sweeney were not supposed to work contracts together - they were both experts in their craft, but their dynamic was volatile and unpredictable, entirely inexplicable to anyone but themselves. People used to say that one day they’d either kill each other, or end up married - they chose the latter.

Realistically, it was never going to last between them - in fact, it’s some kind of miracle (or maybe a curse) that their marriage survived the eleven years it did. After one, final, explosive argument, the Vidals separated for good, but angry as they were, they couldn’t stay away from each other for long. Joaquin started taking contracts abroad, furthering his reputation with the Rogers while doing his best to forget about Sweeney. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t move on from her. He’s never been good at letting go.

When Alistair Winchester shit the bed and got himself nicked, it was only a matter of time before someone was called in to clean up his mess. Following the customary vote between senior members of the gang, Joaquin was compelled to return from his work overseas, not so much stepping into Alistair's shoes as kicking them out of his way. He never sought the title of the Crooked Hand, and his election came as a surprise, but who is he to spit in the face of democracy? If the Jolly Rogers wanted a show of force, Joaquin Vidal would be the one to give it to them.

He's been the head honcho for coming up on four years now, driving the Jolly Rogers into an era of prosperity that puts old man Winchester's legacy to shame. The treaty is starting to chafe at him, though, his patience for niceties running dangerously thin. No, he thinks its high time his people start making some more aggressive plays - show the Jabberwocks and everyone else who really runs the streets of London.

other things.

Before he was the Crooked Hand, Joaquin was known as Sykes, after the character from Oliver Twist. Not the most flattering of code names, but he’s never been much of a reader, and didn’t understand the connotations until much later on. 

Joaquin calls in on his mother approximately once every six months. They didn’t have the best of relationships after she remarried and started a new better family, but she’s old now, and the only surviving relative he’s still in touch with.

He's not usually much of a gambler, but he goes out of his way to attend the Royal Ascot every year, delighting both in betting on the horse races and terrorising the unfortunate toffs forced to share space with him for the duration of the event.

He’s a passionate West Ham supporter, and will thank you not to remind him how poorly they’ve been performing in the premiere league.

To date, Joaquin has never seen a cow in real life.

There isn’t a single event that could convince Joaquin to wear a tie. He didn’t even wear one to his wedding.

[hector-garcia]

– BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name | Aliases: Hector Oscar García Liddell Gender | Sexual orientation: Cis man | Gay Date of birth | Age: 26th of June | 47 Place of birth: Newcastle upon Tyne Current residence: 10 Downing Street Occupation | Affiliation: Prime Minister of the UK | Labour Party Relationship status: Married to Viktor Liddell. Children: / Positive traits: + Charismatic, brilliant, level-headed, incisive, passionate Negative traits: - Calculating, revolted, idealistic, overly empathetic, intense

– PHYSICAL TRAITS.

Hair color: Salt and Pepper Eye color: Dark brown Height | Weight: 5 feet 9 inches (1.77 m) | 72 kg (160 lbs) Distinguishing features: Strong nose, smooth recognizable voice, Newcastle accent (fading) Faceclaim: Raul Esparza

– BIOGRAPHY.

Hector was born in the working class, to parents who had fled Fidel Castro's regime and made ends meet while they raised him far away from home. Every day, after school, he would do his homework at his mother's desk, who worked as a receptionist in a paper company. His father was a florist working on farmer's markets. They were hard workers, who had big plans for their only son and they saved every month to put him in a proper school. While attending high school, Hector came in second in a competition organized by the British Academy for Science, for his research project on reducing water usage in agriculture, he participated to debate competitions and though he was happy to make his club's victory a collective effort, his extensive knowledge of social, political, economical issues was key into getting 1st place, and it was no surprise that he ended up president of this club as well as 3 others.

He joined college and at the same time officially signed up with the Labour Party as a full member and activist. His parents were involved in politics themselves, and from the moment he was old enough to hold flags at rallies and demonstrations, his father would hoist him up on his shoulders. They both took part in a worker's union, though his mother was the one most devoted to helping both workers and those most vulnerable.

He first did a double licence in sociology and political sciences at LSE, studied in Barcelona for a year with the Erasmus program, and got involved in activism there too. Followed two more years during which he worked on his thesis. He focused on the positive impact immigration had on the country, and while his work was applauded by his peers, he reaped a lot of bile and hatred from the opposition. The dichotomous controversial work ended up in the media. While progressive ones applauded his fresh stance on the question and commented on the depth of his analysis. Qualitative research combined with grounded theory made a solid ground to build his political program on. It didn't matter if some called him a ludicrous dreamer or a clown. Ad hominem attacks only confirmed what he already knew: he needed to take things further, he needed to become a candidate to local elected office.

He ran for council in his borough, Barking and Dagenham, in north eastern London. He fought against gentrification in the area, which would be made all the more painful with the 2012 Olympic Games and the quick evolution of the city in the years that preceded the event. Hector spent most of his free time listening to people who dedicated a lot of their energy, time, or even money for the local community. Eventually, when the time came for him to campaign again, this time for MP, he chose to rely only on their donations, refusing any money that came from corporations and lobbies. The people would be who he represented, not the interest of private companies. It was unconventional. It was risky. He might even lost the election because he fought against Goliaths. Fundraising and media relations was usually handled by professionals who saw the world through a lens filled with statistics and polls.

He shouldn't have won those elections, he supposed. When he won, upspent with a margin of 15 to 1 by his opponents, Hector couldn't believe how much support he had managed to gather through his years as a devoted borough councilman.

Hector, who was now a MP for a little over 10 years, was feeling tight in his shoes, and with the help of his husband, threatened his old LSE pal, none other than the Prime Minister, to reveal the contents of the treaty to the public. He knew the time was right for him. He was quite popular among the party, and his husband's ties with the conservatives made him much easier to accept for the Tories.

His party did get this much right: he represented a breath of fresh air, and those always got people talking. What they didn't get right, however, was this idea that Hector was so much better than your typical politician. Not one bit. He wasn't above shoving people under the bus, or using god awful tactics to get ahead of others. He might have been a likeable personality, with the kind of voice that you could have listened to even if it read the phone book, he also knew when crossing the line was necessary. After all, in a city like London, you couldn't possibly hope to survive being a good guy.

[malo-le-squer]

Full name | Aliases: Malo Philippe Maurice Le Squer | Jack of Swords Gender | Sexual orientation: Cis man | Bisexual Date of birth | Age: April 11 | 28 Place of birth: London, Richmond Current residence: A (small) flat not too far from work, top floor of the building Occupation | Affiliation: Debt collector | The Jabberwocks Relationship status: Single.

POSITIVE: tenacious, observant, quick thinking, imaginative, incisive, levelheaded NEGATIVE:  cruel, aggressive, reserved, impulsive, volatile, obsessive, blunt, tenacious

➵ Harry (44), Lucas (38) Clémentine Le Squer (34) : Siblings, WC ➵ Philippe Le Squer : Father, pastry chef @The Connaught ➵ Kate Le Squer (née Mac Allister) : Mother, reception manager @The Connaught

They lived in Richmond and they both worked in the same palace, a play in Mayfair where the rich, the famous, the influential people of this world would come and go, spending without care someone's yearly salary in a week, or an afternoon. Some aspects of their job were rewarding. They were esteemed by their employer, but you never knew when a customer would make a demand that was so capricious you spent the afternoon working on it.

You couldn't be patient with everyone, there came a time where you snapped. They snapped quite often at their youngest child, who had the misfortune of not wanting to follow the path they had traced for him. By the time he reached high school, his older brother was working at HSBC, Lucas had just signed a contract with a law firm, and his sister was on her way to become someone in the world of cooking. As for Malo, he didn't give a shit about his future or their aspirations and by the time he reached majority, he had already a series of misdemeanors on his record : vandalism, trespassing, intimidation, physical violence ... Needless to say he didn't finish high school with his classmates, but in juvenile detention. That's where he was first acquainted with the Jabberwocks.

Out of spite, he wanted to show his parents that he could do so much better than them without following their stupid fucking path. He didn't need their help, and he didn't care if people got hurt. People always got hurt, they just were too stupid to notice it until it was too late, or worse yet, they thought they were weak, inapt, useless, just because they couldn't keep up, just because their back caved in under the pressure. What kind of fucking system would condemn fishing food out of supermarket trash yet decide it was legal to install anti homeless spikes, as if they were pigeons you didn't want shitting on your window sill. What kind of society valued money more than it did their fucking people?

And they all happily bowed their neck with the hope of getting a bit of that sweet money in return. They made him sick.

The Liddells might have been just as despicable as the rest of them, they offered him a way to show his parents how well he was doing, for the low low price of his soul. He'd never been religious. It was fine. And he liked it.

[iraavanan-pathak]

➵  BASICS

NAME: Iraavanan Nikesh Pathak NICKNAME: Ira  AGE / D.O.B. Mai 7th - 34 years old FACECLAIM:  Dev Patel GENDER & SEXUALITY: Cis-Male, pansexual HOMETOWN: Redbridge, London CURRENTLY:  Redbridge, London AFFILIATION:  Law Enforcement.  JOB POSITION: Strike Team member, ballistics specialist EDUCATION: High school degree - Licence of Psychology - Army training RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. CHILDREN: None. SIBLINGS: One. ➵ Wanted Connection

➵  TRAITS

POSITIVE: Benevolent, compassionate, spontaneous, neighborly, thoughtful NEGATIVE: Confrontational, scatterbrained, disorganized, blunt, tenacious

➵  BIOGRAPHY

A London native, Ira Pathak learned early on that the American dream had died a long time ago. His parents had immigrated to the UK in the 80s, thinking that the country would offer them a new, fruitful life. They studied here, his father becoming an engineer, his mother an ophthalmologist.

Ira was the youngest, which meant that he didn't have to be exemplary. He would have loved being more responsible, but he couldn't help himself. If someone fucked with him, he'd give them back the exact same amount of venom. Sometimes, it was his mouth who got him in trouble, but a right hook was worth a thousand words.

It wasn't too surprising that his older brother was just the same. Black eyes and busted lips were common in the Pathak household, that is until Ira ended up in middle school and grew up a bit sooner than the rest of the guys. That certainly made him popular with the girls, and guys preferred to be his friend just because of that.

It was better, until it was not. He was 23 when his father passed away, shot during an industrial heist that had gone terribly wrong. The guy got nervous, his dad was too close to the alarm.

This event completely changed Ira, who distanced himself from his sibling, his mother, and his friends, drowned into his sorrow, sorrow turned to anger, and anger turned into resolve. They had never caught the fucking guy after all. Maybe he could be the one who caught him. He knew for certain he wouldn't do that with a nice psychology degree.  

He signed up for police recruitment and graduated a few years later.

Of course, he dug up his father's cold case, but after all this time, good luck finding a trace of that motherfucker, if he was still alive.

And Ira couldn't keep still. He moved up the ladder fast, but his supervisor eventually got enough of his pacing around the precinct, or digging his nose where he shouldn't have, and suggested to move him to more physical work. He had the brains for it, and with the right training, he'd get the brawn too. And off he went to join the CT task force, finding old friends there, people he knew weren't completely white as snow, but Ira didn't care much, as long as no one got hurt in the process. Then people got hurt, and he'd tell himself they were bad people.. And life went on.

[somewheredarkcr]

tarnished gold. rumpled bedding. a mark on your throat in the shape of someone’s mouth. rebellious prince syndrome. refusing to grow up. sunbathing on the deck of a yacht. the crush of bodies on a crowded dancefloor. the weight of expectations. champagne problems. hair of the dog. skating through life with a wink and a smile. slipping away from a party for a cigarette on the terrace. new year’s fireworks from across the bay. playing the hand you’re dealt. a bow tie hanging loose from a collar.

statistics.

full name: maksim julius liddell nickname(s)/alias(es): max, the crimson prince age: thirty-six date of birth: august 14th star sign: leo place of birth: devon, england current location: london, england gender: cis-male pronouns: he/him sexual orientation: bisexual religion: atheist occupation: unemployed family: constantine liddell (father), ekaterina liddell (mother), viktor liddell (older brother), three younger siblings education level: barely scraped a 2:2 in accounting and finance at the university of exeter living arrangements: currently living out of a suite at the biltmore in mayfair financial status: wealthy languages spoken: english, french, russian (but he won’t and you can’t make him)

biography.

tba

fun facts. (drunk driving mention)

Over the course of his life, Max has dated no less than seven women named Georgina. That works out as approximately one Georgina per every five years.

Max is currently six months into a twenty month suspension of his driving license, following his well-publicised arrest for driving under the influence.

He grew out his hair expressly because he knew his father would hate it - the fact that Viktor also hates it is just a bonus.

The Liddells aren't exactly a hugging family, but Max craves physical affection, and will seek it wherever he can get it. He has a way of drawing people into his orbit until he has them tucked up against his side, his arm wrapped around their shoulders or his fingers tangled with theirs, the contact as natural as breathing.

If he wasn't a Liddell, and his life wasn't completely off the rails, Max probably would've trained as a pilot.

[asa-hollandseabrooke]

A S A H O L L A N D - " T H E H O O K "

Underboss for Jolly Roger , Children's Book Illustrator

46 years old , He / Him , Homosexual

FULL BIO BELOW.

PLEASE CHECK TWS BEFORE PROCEEDING TW // Homophobia, medical malpractice, electroshock therapy, religious trauma, medical trauma, head trauma, murder

BIOGRAPHY .

Asa came into the world with a hard-working mother and a father hellbent on success. While he and his sister spent their childhood in a cozy cottage near the cliffs on the outskirts of Dublin, their father was worming his way into the Irish government. Conor Holland wanted to be in the cabinet, and that meant making sure he had the perfect family... and Asa's rebellious teenage nature, coupled with his secret homosexuality found out through secret magazines and love letters under his bed, meant that he was a huge liability. So Asa was sent away to a troubled teen's home at age 15 - a place that could take minors and sculpt them into whatever their parents wanted. Extremely religious, strict. He was made to believe very early on that any anger is not tolerated, and neither is his attraction to men. It only worsened from there. Asa's rebellion ran deep, but his father's stubbornness ran deeper. When he didn't seem to be 'reformed' as his father wanted, Conor Holland forged medical documents and sent him away to a psychiatric facility. When they started to suspect anything, he'd be sent to another. Asa spent nearly 20 years in and out of mental hospitals. White walls, little cups with his daily medications. Sedated, lethargic, and isolated. Some locations were better than others. Some were complete hell. Meanwhile, his father benefited from an absent son who was so tucked away, so hard to find or learn about, that he could even be claimed to be dead. St. Irene's was the worst. After medical malpractice with defunct medical equipment and out-of-date experimental treatments, Asa was left worse than ever. An electro-convulsive therapy machine was used on him in hopes this could cure the issues outlined by the ever-growing list of mental maladies his father had assigned to him by force. But with St. Irene's over-crowding, he was sent back to his father. This time, Asa made sure he couldn't be sent back, and took a hammer to his father's head. An unfortunate housefire 'took the life of' Conor Holland, member of the Irish cabinet. And Asa fled to London with his father's secret stash of cash. It was the court case of St. Irene's v. Holland that got Asa noticed by the Jolly Roger. A carefully crafted take-down of the corrupt institution he'd been subject to for years. Old letters, polaroids, prior patient testimony. Asa had forged the most airtight condemnation of the institution completely on his own - and won a huge settlement for his troubles. The place was shut down, the owners and some of the doctors locked up. Suddenly, Asa Holland was an asset. A smart man whose father seemed to 'disappear'. After he'd been looked into, he was pulled into the Jolly Roger, starting with some general consulting and aiding in organization. It didn't take long for him to get into killing. He'd already done it once and loved the way it felt. So why not a few more, for pay? And soon enough, he was moving up, and up. Now an Underboss, Asa Holland is noted as "the Hook". Named after the captain in Peter Pan, Asa has 'hooks' in many parts of London. He 'hooks' people into the Jolly Roger who intrigue him... and just like a fishing hook, he keeps them there until he decides to rip free. If he ever does...

HEADCANONS .

-Asa can be an incredibly off-putting individual, due to his time away from ‘society’, as well as the head trauma he's experienced. While he tries to make conversation with others, it is clear he is still figuring out how to make friends and to have relationships.

-His flat is an eclectic and beautiful mishmosh of art, plants, and his 5 cats. He collects many items from the antique stores that Jolly Roger works out of, and its on display beautiful in his artsy space. It's here where he has his own private art studio for his books - he works as a childrens book illustrator.

-While he is an enigma wrapped in another enigma, Asa can be a kind person. He often is thoughtful in small ways- having everyones’ coffee orders pegged on his bulletin board in his office, sending small and odd cards for birthdays and events.

-Asa is covered in tattoos. He often wears suits when working that covers them all, but in the past 10 years of his time in 'society', he's collected ink all over his arms and legs, shoulders, back, and chest.

[la-petitmortss]

{olivia cooke, she/her, 33} We just saw {charlotte astor} entering {the savoy}. I heard through the grapevine that their loyalties lie with {jolly rogers/herself}, and that they also go by {la petite mort}. Be careful, they work as an {assassin} and are known to be {arrogant}, {cruel}, or {vain}. However they’re also known to be {meticulous}, {clever}, and {resourceful}. – {gracie, she/her, est}

Tw violence

There is nothing particularly remarkable about her past, nothing deeply traumatic or otherwise impactful that might explain why Charlotte Astor ended up this way. Of course, there is the obvious explanation - privilege and wealth and status all gifted by the circumstances of her births. But that answer never quite satisfies, not when her brothers turned out mostly fine. No, there was always something a bit off about her.

Little Charlotte Astor with her wide and wild eyes, tasked with lessening herself, carving out anything interesting, shrinking and molding herself to fit into the expectations that came with status and wealth - the porcelain doll daughter her parents thought they deserved. She was a creature of rage, even then. And when they begged her to lessen, to peel away parts of herself to please them - Charlotte set fire to anything good and pure that might have remained. They had it wrong when they expected her to be their little angel. Angels had always been vengeful, violent spirits - sent by God to punish, to kill, to make an example. There is nothing soft, simpering, or good about a creature whose wings have always been dipped in blood.

So it was easy then, when she out shot her older brothers each and every time they went hunting with their father, to consider more. The man who approached her fit into their group with such ease she did not question anything, merely went along with whatever he asked of her at that age.

It could have been worse, she would later think, the training that turned a wild and reckless teenager into a brutal and ruthless assassin. Her parents would not notice the odd hours she kept, not would anyone question the bruises. The blood was washed away or covered up far before it might be noticed, and Charlotte loved the thrill that came with learning to embrace violence.

From her father she’d learned marksmanship - that of an old school sniper which won her a place in this new era of assassins. The rest - that was all Charlotte. She preferred to kill with a knife, there was something so intimate about watching the life drain out of her target's eyes - something that made her feel something more than mere satisfaction. But knives were messy, and Charlotte was a professional. So she learned chemical compounds and the drugs of their enemies, how to inject something in such a way that it all appears an accident. It is the terms of the agreement, she knows - but someone like her is wasted on these deaths. The Jolly Rogers have always balanced on the edge of the agreement - and Charlotte is just now learning the pain and violence that accompanies the phrase - itching for a fight.

[cassandranarvaez]

{Michaela Jaé Rodriguez, she/her, 33} We just saw {Cassandra Narvaez} entering {Scotland Yard}. I heard through the grapevine that their loyalties lie with {Met Police}. Be careful, they work as a {strike team member/evidence technician} and are known to be {demanding}, {hedonistic}, or {venal}. However they’re also known to be {captivating}, {hardworking}, and {observant}. – {Kuromi, she/her, EST, no triggers}

ABOUT. | CONNECTIONS. | SNAPSHOT. | CASE STUDY. | CHITCHAT.

[ash-blythee]

V A L D U P O N T , T H E W H I S T L E  

Psychologist . Author . Unexpected Success .

35 . They/Them . Nonbinary Genderfluid . Pansexual .

full bio below .

In Kilkenny, Valentine was born into a family of dreamers. Their younger sister Ruth wanted to be an astronaut, their older sister Benna wanted to be a fashion designer, and Val always loved writing and imagining. With a mother in journalism and a father in film, Val always seemed to be learning- taking in new information like a sponge and finding where best to put it. 

Most of all, Val loved to chat and get people talking. Their effervescent and easygoing personality often drew others out of their shells. They felt comfortable with them. Even could confide in them. 

Becoming a psychologist seemed to be the best route. Val loved writing but they knew they couldn’t go making a living off of some self published book about fairy tales. Instead they went off to university. Amidst partying, flings, and ragers, Val somehow didn’t flunk out - but their parents certainly thought they would. 

After graduating, Val didn’t want to take the needed courses to get their license - they were burnt out, overwhelmed… taking a few years off, Val lived with their parents again. They slipped into more drinking, drugs, partying. The whole nine yards, until at 26, they had a drug scare. Took something from someone who said it was something - but it definitely wasn’t. Too much, and not knowing what on earth was in their system.

A long talk with mum & dad, and they finally began their courses to begin their actual career. And the professors liked them - praised their ability to empathize, to de-escalate and to bring someone out of their shell. With professor referrals they were soon off to becoming a psychologist. 

Then it turned boring. Val’s need for excitement would occasionally dip into drugs again- and buying from a Jabberwock member on the down low seemed to curb that. But working as a psychologist for local police was thankless and boring. As the hit their 30s, they wondered if this was all there was.

Around 33, Val started noticing problems with their vision. A blur in and out that wouldn’t fully go away. Suddenly they needed glasses, and even those seemed to go up in prescription too quickly. The eye doctor gave the unfortunate news that they were losing their vision, and in the next few years, it would be completely gone. 

This seemed to spark something in Val. Urgency. They couldn’t be stuck in this job forever when they could be going for what they wanted, needed. Higher profile clients, interesting stories. They applied and became the Met’s new psychologist, and worked every day off writing the old stories they’d thought of back in college.

Suddenly there was a book. Margot Sees Magic is sent to agents- picked up, sent to publishers. Picked up and published. Suddenly, a bestseller. All the while, as Val settled into their role as Met psychologist, they start to get interesting visitors.

Gang members of various distinctions - and high standing. Offering money for information. An easy choice for someone who loves to gossip, and has struggled to afford their own flat for years. 

Now Val feeds information to both sides - Jabberwock and Jolly Roger alike can find appointments with them, either for actual help or something a bit more nefarious. A swapping of money for intel - and Val has plenty to spare. 

Headcanons: 

-Val has started using a red-tipped walking cane for help. They have not completely lost their vision yet, but things have become so blurry even with glasses that they’ve stopped bothering with them.

-Val still buys drugs occasionally from members of Jabberwock and occasionally dips back into it, though they try very hard to keep it to weed and wine.

-They are a total flirt. Plenty of ex-flings and lovers, though they’re usually very open and honest about their non-monogamy.