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mobscene-launceston · 5 months

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BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: Erik Callaghan. AGE: 52. PLACE OF BIRTH: Launceston, Massachusetts, United States. AFFILIATION: Neutral. (Mancini Family, loosely) OCCUPATION: Former mayor. FACE CLAIM: Gabriel Macht. AVAILABILITY: TAKEN.

(Warning: Brief mention of a pregnant character's death.)

“I promise we’ll talk later.”

It was the last thing she’d ever said to him.

And where he desperately tried to cling to the memory of the gentle smile he adored, more often than not, it was the pain in her eyes that night that crept into his thoughts.

Pain that he had caused.

Erik had made so many mistakes in his life it was hard to figure out where to start. But never her. Norah had never been a mistake, even if the rest of the city seemed to decide her one on his behalf.

It’d been such a mighty fall from grace one wouldn’t have been hasty to assume his redemption impossible. Erik had come from a wealthy, much-loved Anderson Island family whose reputation somehow traversed the usual line between the upper classes and everybody else. He’d always been well-spoken, well-read, and an absolute credit to his lineage. As was expected of him, he’d attended Ivy League schools—first Yale, then Belmonte—and had been on track to become everything the city expected of somebody like him. Upon his return to Launceston, he had a new wife in tow, and a healthy ambition to change the city he adored for the better.

Things were never that easy though, were they?

Particularly not when the criminal empires that plagued Launceston were growing more powerful by the day. And changing the city for the better was not something they appreciated.

It’d always been his goal to make his way into the world of politics. All the connections he needed were already there, his last name gave him a boost that most others could only dream of, his wife was a supporting rock for his campaigns, and he was just young and hopeful enough to believe he could do some good in the world. When he eventually ended up becoming mayor a little less than two decades later, it was all he could’ve dreamed of. The public adored him. His family was so proud of him. The changes he was making really were with the best interests of the city at heart.

And that was precisely where it all came crashing down.

First, the threats were only directed toward him, and not to be deterred, he upped his security and carried on life as normal. But when the safety of his wife came into question—his two daughters, not long after—things started to become more complicated. The Russians, the Italians, the French…they all wanted him out of office, and directly into a hole in the ground. Erik had lived in Launceston long enough to know that their threats were not to be assumed empty.

Livia was so scared for the safety of her family, seeing her in pain tore at him. She pleaded with him to stop, to step down, to think about what this was doing to them. The woman barely ate, barely slept, barely left home... Ellie and Laura needed a security detail just to go to school, and even if they were too young to understand what was going on, they were astute enough to know something was wrong. Especially with their mother. Erik and Livia fought constantly because he was too stubborn to back down out of fear—he couldn’t when he was finally hitting the gangsters where it hurt—and it was utterly destroying their marriage. Some nights he didn’t even go home at all, because he couldn’t find the mental capacity to deal with everything that was going on, the stresses of work, only to be greeted by a woman who couldn’t even stand the sight of him anymore.

And that was when the affair began.

Erik wasn’t the first man to excuse his straying on marital troubles, and he wouldn’t be the last, but Norah Pierce would end up being much more than a convenient escape from his wife.

It’d started out as late nights in the office, her offering him legal counsel, as was her job, over dinner. Livia had no reason to be suspicious at first, because he’d already been sleeping there when things got really bad between them. Quickly, their relationship grew into something much more serious, though. Erik had never intended it to be anything more than a casual way to blow off some steam, but God, he loved her more than he ever thought possible. Was completely and utterly in love with her. It was stupid, and it was unprofessional, but he couldn’t help himself. She was everything he didn’t deserve, but everything he needed. For the sake of both of their careers, they were as careful as possible. One night they’d gotten brazen and headed back to her place, though, and little did he know, that one heat of the moment decision would ruin everything.

The St. Clairs were having him watched. Barely a day later, Erik had the photos on his desk.

In spite of his massive popularity during his first term, for the sake of his sanity, he didn’t intend to run for office again. But now Nicolas had leverage. Erik would run again, and he would appoint Faye St. Clair as his deputy, or the photos would hit the press and he would lose everything. His family, his career, his dignity…and Norah a reputation she’d worked so hard to build from the ground up.

Of course, he was re-elected in a landslide. Launceston loved him, and he had been so productive the first time around, they wouldn’t have wanted anybody else at the helm during one of the city’s most turbulent periods. But things would be different this time around, and his popularity would quickly plummet once he started to walk back on his anti-organised crime stances due to St. Clair’s pressure. Livia hated him more than ever—berated him for putting his family through hell only to undo it all—and filed for divorce within the year. Norah, who he had at least confided in about the truth, was scared for not only her own safety, but the safety of the man she loved. His life was in fucking shambles.

Erik started drinking. Started to push away the few people who stuck by his side, Norah included, out of guilt and shame and absolute fucking disgust at what he’d become. Until finally, he snapped.

“Leak the pictures. I don’t give a fuck, Nicolas. I’ll tell them about your daughter, the blackmail…”

And that’s a conversation he regrets to this day.

“I promise we’ll talk later.”

Norah had told him she was pregnant that morning, and they still hadn’t had time to discuss what that meant for them. The hurt in her eyes was because he still refused to acknowledge their relationship publicly. Was pushing her away, even though she was fighting so hard for him. What she didn’t realise was that he was doing it because he cared. Not about much else anymore, but he cared about her. Erik knew what was to come. Erik knew that his reputation would not survive this, no matter how it played out, and he didn’t want to drag her down with him. All he wanted to do was marry her, take her away from the mess of a city, and never look back, but it would never be that easy, even if he wanted it to be.

Erik had given a speech that night, much to the distaste of the audience. It’d been The Palace Hotel’s annual breast cancer benefit. And right as the last word left his mouth, a gunshot rang out.

A chaos the likes of which the city had never seen before ensued, but all he could see was her lifeless body on the floor. The bullet had been meant for her, but it’d been meant for him, too.

The St. Clairs weren’t to be fucked with.

Erik resigned the next morning.

Everything good in his life was gone.

Like an absolute coward, he’d departed the city shortly after, and fallen off the face of the earth for almost five years. Livia and the kids were better off without him. The few friends who had stuck by him, too. The pits of absolute depression and numbness were a welcome reprieve from the grief, in a way. Erik had no intention of ever going back to that place. Never wanted to be faced with the memories of everything he’d destroyed.

But when the news of Nicolas St. Clair’s passing reached him, something changed.

The man was fucking dead, just like he deserved.

And suddenly, he was angry instead of numb for the first time in years.

Upon returning to Launceston, the former mayor was greeted with the reception he deserved: utter disdain. But one man had thought of him differently. One man had made a point of seeking him out, and requesting an audience with the once beloved politician. Salvatore Mancini. Erik still doesn’t know, to this day, how the Italian found out about the circumstances of his relationship with Nicolas St. Clair, but he made it abundantly clear that he hated him just as much. At first, he’d scoffed at the idea. Erik didn’t care about petty fucking disputes between gangs. But when the old man told him that Nicolas St. Clair had been responsible for the murder of his wife, the mother of his children, he understood that his interest in his predicament was genuine. Because it was personal.

Erik would’ve been content to continue life as the villain if it hadn’t been for him. Mancini convinced him to tell the truth about why he had walked back on his policies. About the blackmail, and about what they’d done to Norah to punish him for even considering speaking up.

And whilst many St. Clair loyalists would be quick to condemn him for trying to tarnish the reputation of a man who could no longer defend himself, a great many more of Launceston’s citizens believed him. Supported him. Belatedly grieved for him.

Salvatore supported him every step of the way. Unlike St. Clair, however, it was unconditional. He expected nothing in return, and Erik was grateful for that. For him.

A few years have passed since he came clean, and finding his footing again has been a struggle. What has proven much harder to swallow, however, is watching Faye St. Clair in the mayoral seat, carrying on as though nothing has changed.

Eleanor O’Reilly is challenging her for her position at the next election, and although the prospect absolutely terrifies him, she has asked him to run as her deputy. With crime a more pressing issue than ever before, having someone who has not only suffered through it personally, but made great amends for the mistakes he made as a victim of it, would put an entirely different light on her campaign. One of honesty, one of strength, and one of more determination than ever to make the people responsible for causing so much pain in the city pay for their sins.

Erik doesn’t know whether he has it in him to accept the offer, whether it would even be allowed after all that’s transpired, but it would be a lie to say that he isn’t considering it. Especially after Salvatore Mancini leaked the idea to the press, and the Launcestonian public unanimously called for his return to the mayoral office once more…

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Norah Pierce (partner, deceased), Livia Callaghan (ex-wife, unplayable) FAMILY: Ellie and Laura Callaghan (daughters, unplayable) CONNECTIONS:

Eleanor O'Reilly: Good friend. Though she'd been the opposition candidate during his second campaign, even when he won the seat that she deserved, she was never bitter. It's difficult to find good people in a city like Launceston, but Eleanor is one of them, and the fact she doesn't utterly despise him after all that's happened is a certified miracle. Getting his life back on track has been an uphill struggle, but she's been at his side for all of it. Even if he doesn't deserve it, or her.

Salvatore Mancini: Friend. When Salvatore's crimes finally caught up to him and he was arrested by the FBI, Erik was more upset than he'd expected to be. Never could he have imagined mourning a mobster being put behind bars, but after everything Mancini has done for him, everything he's done to show that he's a genuinely good man, Erik can't help but be disappointed their friendship was cut short. There are few 'mobsters' he could ever imagine sympathising with, but Sal is decidedly not like the others. It seems a shame to Erik that it's him behind bars instead of a Frenchman or a Russian.

Angelo Morello: Friend. Though he was slightly less accommodating than Salvatore had been in the beginning, Angelo too hates the French with an almost unrivalled passion that Erik can relate to. It was enough for the jaded old men to bond. Whilst he has to keep any relationship with anybody who isn't strictly above board a secret after all that's happened, there is some comfort to be found in knowing a man like Angelo is in his corner.

Faye St. Clair: Dislikes. Nicolas pushed her into this life and he knows it. Erik witnessed the turmoil she went through being involved in a campaign she wanted no part of. But her father is gone now, and if she wanted to, she could come clean about all the terrible things he orchestrated. Instead, she remains in office, continuing to perpetuate the same bullshit to keep the St. Clairs on top that her father had expected of him. So if he'd ever felt sorry for her predicament before, that's sure flown out of the window now. Even if he doesn't run with Eleanor, he'll damn sure do everything he can to make sure she takes the seat next election.

#taken #takenm #neutral #politician #erikcallaghan #gabriel macht #mobadvent2023

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senatushq · 3 months

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NAME. Jonas Olander AGE & BIRTH DATE. 25 & June 7th, 1998 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Daemonfey ( Draegloth ) OCCUPATION. Unemployed FACE CLAIM. Rainer Dawn

biography

( tw: self harm, attempted suicide, violence, blood ) Even in the modern era, Jonas was brought up in the ways of old his born pack upheld as sacred. Outsiders weren’t allowed for turned lycans or those from diluted bloodlines were inferior. The Olanders were part of a noble and ancient heritage that stretched back to the first Tiber alpha. It had been many generations since his pack had splintered off, but the stories kept the connection alive and burning in Jonas’ heart. He memorized the tales of his prominent forbearers, adopted the customs passed down on him, and found his natural place within pack hierarchy. For weeks they lived within a community, preparing for the four nights the moon they worshipped granted them their true strength. Moon after moon, shift after shift, Jonas became over the years what he was raised to be: a true lycan coexisting with the natural world. Every hunt was a tribute, every howl was a reminder of his heritage. He was proud to be born as he was and happy to serve his pack until the day he died.

However, no pack was above the laws of the wild. Shifting dynamics across the globe caused lycans everywhere to consolidate power. The rise of the Lupo led to an influx in Rome-bound pilgrimages, but the Olanders chose to turn their ears away from the howls. Thrive or perish, that was nature’s way, so a pack that operated on old, isolationist policies would have to pray their old-world strength was enough to combat an onslaught. A distant pack came, eager to usurp Jonas’ alpha and consolidate his pack into something else entirely. His outrage at the initial attack was shared amongst all the lycans of his family. The idea of their noble heritage being tainted by outsiders infuriated them. Still, his first field of battle was where he finally learned that conviction alone was not enough to protect what was cherished.

It was a brutal war and Jonas watched countless faces of those he’d known his entire life cut down before his eyes as he fought. His pack and livelihood were burning around him, forcing him to acknowledge the promises of greatness that had filled his head from birth as lies. The pleading prayers of his dying family were like a curse to his ears. Jonas couldn’t bear it, the sonata of failure shattering across the battlefield his spirit allowing something much darker to sprout in its place. Jonas rejected the death encroaching on his broken body and bit into the heart of the injured packmate clinging to life next to him. Then he did it again, and again, over and over until he devoured any trace of weakness the Olander pack exhibited in their defeat. He rose on his hackles, empowered by the fallen he absorbed despite how doing so disconnected him from the traditions he’d upheld and fought back. The assailants were ill-prepared for a sudden volatile and Jonas managed to slash through scores of enemy lycans before he was brought down, but he was eventually brought down. That was to be it for him, disgracing himself in the name of revenge only to die battered and alone. He cursed his fate, and himself, which made him prime real estate for the dark promise that whispered in his ear. Jonas had only wanted to protect his pack and he gave up his soul in the process, but it was all a waste. Why should he let that be his end though? He rejected death once, so why not again?

Jonas didn’t want to die, that’s all he wanted. But it was a bargain made under the most desperate of circumstances because his first coherent thought on the other side of the agony he endured was how he wished he’d gone out with the rest of his pack. The creature he’d allowed himself to become was vile, disgusting, and so far removed from lycanthropy that his own reflection made him wretch, even when he wasn’t in shifted form. He hated what he had become and hated himself for letting it happen, but there was no way out or through. Jonas had tried to find an out on his own more than a few times, but he traded his soul for power. The kind of power that was not so easily destroyed.

Jonas found salvation at his lowest point at the bottom of a pool of blood. Some of it was whatever unlucky creature he tore to ribbons, some was his own trickling down his flesh after hours of gouging at his immortal hide. He was a mess and that was his pattern, but one flash of an impish smile bearing down on him and Jonas lost the urge entirely. He had nothing, and then out of the blue, he had everything. He was a complete stranger to comfort and opulence. He knew he didn’t deserve an ounce of contentment after disgracing his bloodline. Jonas was prepared to live out the rest of his days in loneliness while he repented for giving himself to darkness. But alongside Napoleon and Carmine he could pretend at the very least. They were alike enough, and they were his pack. Plus, when they smiled Jonas found it hard to hate himself. He would never regain what he’d lost no matter how hard he tried, but maybe if he could keep this new pack of his safe then perhaps one day he’d stop regretting his rejection of death’s hand.

personality

+ uninhibited, pensive, consistent – stubborn, self-loathing, merciless

played by zen. est. he/him.

#takenc #takenm #takendaemonfey #the dominated

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happiestplacehq · 3 months

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GUIDO ALZA is thirty-four years old. He is a Mechanic at Hangman’s Garage. He is the humanized version of Guido from the Disney film, Cars.

+ Dedicated, Nimble, Enthusiastic - Impulsive, Headstrong, Easily Frustrated

ABOUT GUIDO

Born to a Chinese mother and an Italian father, Guido had the luxury of being able to experience the wonders of multiple cultures when he was growing up. He’s the only child of his parents but is close with his cousin Luigi to the point that the two see one another as brothers. His mother passed when he was younger and he doesn’t have much memory of her, though he does feel guilty about this. His father worked for racing teams which had the Alza family moving around wherever the team he was working with were moving on to whether it be training or racing. That was where his love of cars and mechanics began. Guido was in awe of his dads job and when he wasn’t in school, he spent most of his time at the racetrack. However, one day he was at the racetrack and a freak accident happened with one of the machines in the pit, killing his father in the process. Guido was devastated. More so when it was brought to the attention of people that he was now technically an orphan. He called his uncle when it happened, not knowing who else to call and thankfully his uncle took him in and saved him from a life in the system. Having Luigi around was a saving grace when Guido had to process everything, but part of Guido pulled away. It took a few years for him to start opening up and having some life about him again. Guido drilled his academics to the bone, determined to get a scholarship for mechanical engineering at an ivy school. He zeroed in on that end goal and didn’t take his foot off the gas until he had achieved it, and fast forward a few years and he was graduating top of his class. Fresh out of university, he landed a job within the racing circuit, head mechanic for Lightning McQueen and his team. When he’s not travelling the world to pander to the McQueen team and off-season, he’s at home in Redwood Hollow and works at Hangman’s Garage. It’s not uncommon to see the McQueen team drop in to see him and Guido is just happy that he feels like his dad would be proud of him.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

Formula-1 darling of the pit-crew - he’s somehow garnered his own fanbase (which he finds awkward)

Pronouns - He/Him

Sexuality - TBD

Guido is currently unavailable. His faceclaim is Max Minghella.

#disney rp #disney roleplay #lsrpg #ouat rp #fairytale rp #town rp #mystery rp #fandom rp #cars #all #taken #takenm #oc

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mobscene-london · 1 year

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BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: Ayaz Ateş. AGE: 37. PLACE OF BIRTH: London, United Kingdom. AFFILIATION: The Rutherford Family. OCCUPATION: Lieutenant. FACE CLAIM: Serkan Çayoğlu. AVAILABILITY: TAKEN.

BIOGRAPHY:

(Warning: This is so obnoxiously long, and writing it was a logistical nightmare. Apologies for what you’re about to read. Don’t turn an NPC into a playable character and then play them before you write the bio. Lesson learned...)

This was never the life he’d wanted for himself. Not even with those he’d left behind.

But bitterness had a way of changing you irreparably.

People underestimated that.

Sometimes he wondered how different things might’ve been if they’d stayed in Haringey. The thoughts were void of the longing one might expect, but they plagued him all the same. Ayaz never really missed the place, and he sure didn’t miss those he’d once considered family, but that was because family didn’t treat people the way they’d treated his father. The man had dedicated his life to furthering the interests of the Turkish gang. They’d come before everything but his only son.

Until they just hadn’t deserved it anymore.

Demir and Doğulu had always seen things differently. The two had been friends back in Türkiye—long before they’d decided to move to London—and that meant Ayaz’s father often found himself on the outside of the trio they’d formed. Whilst Behçet was a proud man, however, he wasn’t an egotistical one. So long as his contributions to their three-way leadership felt worthy, he was content. But as each year passed, they pushed their comparatively traditional and conservative brother further out of the fold. Doğulu was the leader, Demir was his second, and Ateş was the fucking spare. They kept important information from him, and acted without consultation in spite of the fact they’d agreed to make decisions together. It was as if he’d pledged his life to people who had decided him obsolete. Embarrassed him by unashamedly parading it to the rest of the gang…

Ayaz isn’t sure why his otherwise patient father finally snapped—and is neither brave nor stupid enough to ask—but when the Rutherfords came knocking, Behçet answered.

Unlike his little sister, he was old enough to be aware of what was happening. Losing his friends, the people he cared about, the home he grew up in… Ayaz loved his father, and would never second guess the wisest man he’d ever known, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hurting. They were viewed as traitors by people who had once adored them.

Ayaz was so ashamed of the new reputation that followed his family, his teenage years were a miserable and lonely blur. Whilst he vehemently refused to associate with the Rutherford family—maybe foolishly hoping that one day, the Turks would take him back—he didn’t socialise with anybody else, either. He made no friends at his new private school; a placement gained courtesy of Rutherford influence, no doubt. Out of fear of retribution, he refused to leave the house for anything other than school or prayer. He talked less, even at home, and lost the very nature that’d always made the people of Haringey fall in love with him.

The one thing that’d always saved him from the brink of insanity throughout the hardship, however, was the relationship he shared with his mother. There was nobody in his life he adored more. On the days he was so miserable he couldn’t even bring himself to eat, she’d take her son to the kitchen and cook with him. Though he was an academic first and foremost, it’d sparked something in an otherwise empty teenager that would prove difficult to extinguish. To look at him now, one would never imagine that his passion in life was cooking, but Huriye had honed in on the thing she could see made her son happy, and gently cultivated it into something he could be proud of. Ayaz hadn’t realised that he’d needed that, but she sure had.

Eventually heading to university had been everything that he’d needed it to be, and that was a real chance to start over. For the first time since his family had been expelled from Haringey, he finally felt he had people in his life who had no idea about the things he’d spent years punishing himself for. Ayaz had pursued business and management with the intention of one day starting his own restaurant, and was finding his footing as something other than a traitor’s son. He’d made friends, unknowingly met the woman he would marry, and gained back some of the good nature he had lost over the years. There was so much to be grateful for, he could scarcely believe the turnaround.

Until halfway through his final year, he got the call that changed everything.

More so than leaving Haringey ever had…

In hindsight, he’s surprised it took them so long to retaliate. The Turks were as bitter as they were proud. Maybe they’d just been waiting for the right time to strike out at his father. Saving the only chance he’d allow them for when he least expected it… The drive-by shooting right outside his family home had seen three bullets hit Behçet, and still fail to put him down.

It’d only taken one to strike Ayaz’s mother, though. One bullet to injure her gravely enough to tease death, and paralyse her for the rest of her life.

Family would always come first for him, and this time was no exception.

Getting leave to be with her was easy, but it’d quickly become obvious that he couldn’t go back to school. Not only was his father finding caring for his paraplegic wife a struggle, but for the first time since Behçet had chosen the Rutherfords, his son was livid with those they’d left behind. Anger had never been something he’d struggled with. To see his mother hurting, though—a woman who was undeniably the kindest soul anyone who’d met her knew—stoked something in him he hadn’t even known fucking existed. As each day passed, and especially on the rare ones her admirably brave face faltered, his bitterness grew.

Behçet’s betrayal had never been the reason his son had joined the Rutherfords.

The Turks had unknowingly created that monster themselves.

The regret at having avoided the British family for so long crept up on him quickly after that. They had helped his family immeasurably; including, most importantly, making sure that his mother had the best private healthcare money could buy. Material gains aside, however, Ayaz would take away so much more from them as the years passed. The friendship he cultivated with Lara. With Adriana, and Yiannis, and a whole host of others he would never have been lucky enough to meet otherwise, too. Most significantly of all, however, he’d once again met Medea; the same woman who’d brutally rejected him at a university mixer all those years ago.

Whilst it might’ve it earned him all the things he was grateful for, his connections also perpetually stoked his ire toward Haringey.

And when his sister abandoned their family for a gang she couldn’t even remember?

It peaked in ways reminiscent of the days he’d spent at his mother’s hospital bedside.

Ayaz and Medea had committed to moving to Porto Velho permanently before he’d heard the news. Honestly, he would’ve gone anywhere his wife asked him to, and when it finally seemed as though his parents were in a good place, he knew he’d have no need to feel guilty for putting an ocean between them, because they wanted nothing more than for him to be happy. But when Elif turned her back on them, Huriye’s mental state began to deteriorate rapidly. Suddenly, his life seemed to be slipping out of his control because of decisions that were not his own. How could he possibly leave his mother now? Like this? Taking her place at Lara’s side was not an offer Medea could refuse, and Ayaz knew that it gave her purpose she had been missing for so long. He couldn’t ask her to stay even though he wanted to. He couldn’t handle any more fucking guilt.

They’d both tried to make the distance work. But it just hadn’t.

In taking away Elif, they’d inadvertently taken the love of his life from him, too.

One more thing for which he would never forgive them.

The work he’d been doing for the Rutherfords had been just enough to get by at that point, but he sure jumped at any chance he could to head to Haringey when somebody needed to be taught a lesson. Life was anger and violence. Utterly meaningless beyond a search for vengeance, and ultimately, it left him about as miserable as he had been before he’d turned his life around. But he was in too deep, now. Didn’t know how to go back to normality after everything that’d happened. Everything he’d lost…

Redemption only came when Lara made London her new home, but years had passed, and Ayaz was not the same person they’d left behind. They could see as much. With her homecoming came the return of Medea, though, and that mattered. Not only was he given new purpose as a part of Lara’s security team—trust offered thanks to the devil on her shoulder, no doubt—but with her permanent return to the city, he had his wife back. It was blatant as soon as she was home that divorcing had been a hasty mistake, because the two had reconciled immediately. Ayaz hadn’t realised how badly he’d needed it. Her.

Just like that? It felt as though he was finding his way again.

The stability the new arrangement offered had him flourishing. Not only did he marry Medea for the second time, but now they were settled in the city for good, the timing finally seemed right to start the family they’d often talked about. Medea had never been close with her own, where Ayaz’s had meant everything to him, and it gave them both very different reasons for wanting the same thing. They’d always been on the same page; even when it came to the little things. Maybe she didn’t seem the type to others, but he knew her. Could tell she’d been excited to plan this part of their future. So when she’d turned around barely two years later and told him she didn’t want children anymore, it’d broken his fucking heart.

And this time, it was her who left him.

For a while, he wondered if she’d had other reasons for wanting to break things off, and had used not wanting kids as the excuse because she knew it was a deal-breaker. Medea wasn’t just his wife. She was his best fucking friend. Nobody understood her like he did. But this time he was at a loss, and that hurt him almost as much as losing her.

Ayaz threw himself wholly into his work as a means of coping after that. Not that he really fooled anyone into believing he was coping… Lara’s security team was headed by Yiannis, but he’d proven to be an exceptional addition over the years he’d played a part. Maybe it was the growing part of him that realised how much he owed them. Their relationship had strengthened exponentially; enough that his divorce, and new closeness with the Rutherford, had sparked some rumours he certainly could’ve lived without. Ayaz respected her like he respected nobody else in her family. Trusted her implicitly in a way that would soon become mutual. He knew that wherever she headed in the future, he would be at her side, but he hadn’t expected that it would so quickly come as a promotion to lieutenant.

It’s not that he wasn’t flattered... Not only had he got the title remarkably early in his career, but he would officially be the first the future head of the Rutherford family would assign to the position. People liked to say it’d only been a prize for saving her life back in Launceston, but they both knew better. Understood that she saw something in him that perhaps, he didn’t even see in himself. But the new responsibilities came with a very real reminder. The Ayaz from Haringey might’ve died in that hospital, but there was still a part of him, no matter how small, that longed for something more than this. In being brought into a position of power, it seemed increasingly unlikely that he’d ever get to spend his life away from the gangs, just as he’d always intended…

The real question is: is his longing for a normal life stronger than his longing to punish Haringey?

Things can change overnight, and he knows that well…

But not right now, it isn’t.

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. Medea Barrett (ex-wife, twice rip) FAMILY: Behçet and Huriye Ateş (parents, unplayable), Elif Ateş (sister), Leyla Yılmaz (maternal cousin), Ceren Yılmaz (maternal cousin, deceased) CONNECTIONS:

Adriana Amaro: Good friend. Though they mightn’t seem the type to mesh well on paper, Adriana has an infuriating way of making anybody she sets her sights on adore her. Ayaz is no exception. Whilst she might drive him crazy a solid ninety per cent of the time, he wouldn’t be without her, now. Of all the friendships he’s made since joining her family, whilst she might be the most unexpected, she’s also one of the most treasured. Not that he’ll ever tell her that.

Nevra Erdoğan: Good friend. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud, but it’s of great comfort to him to have another Turk in the Rutherford ranks. Not only is he proud of her for turning her back on the piece of shit gang they left behind, but he’s proud of how much she’s achieved working for the family. Ayaz isn’t a hugely social person, and he doesn’t have many friends, but with her it’s easy. At this point, he’s pretty sure he’d go insane without her.

Hasan Demir: Enemy. Former friend. The two had been very close, once upon a time. When he’d been forced to flee Haringey, family aside, Hasan was the person Ayaz had missed the most. But times change, and so do people. Whilst he hates everybody who’s a part of the Turkish gang with a burning fucking passion, the sons of Demir and Doğulu top the list. Old friendships don’t mean mercy.

Elif Ateş: Enemy. Sister? What sister? Ayaz doesn’t have one.

#i could've written more connections but what's the point #i'm already here bro #taken #takenm #rutherford #ayazates #serkan çayoğlu

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comeawayrp · 11 months

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• Robin 'Slightly' McGinnis • Lost Boy • Age Unknown • Thomas Brodie-Sangster

Start your life in the middle of the jungle...

Robin ‘Slightly’ Mcginnis was born in the Enchanted Forest to traveling musician parents. They traveled all over the country and rather than having a small child to drag in tow they often left him in the care of relatives; passing him from one family to the next. They would come and visit him, but it would only be for a few short days and they were gone for sometimes a month or more at a time. It was here that the seed of rejection started to take root.

As Robin grew, so did his resentment of his parents. As far as he was concerned he had no family, no one that gave truly gave two shits about him. His only escape was in his music or in his dreams where he would visit a magical world called Neverland. His only friend, a boy he had met in his dreams. The boy’s name was Peter Pan.

It didn’t really click that Peter wasn’t what he seemed to be, nor the world he figured was just all a figment of his imagination. Robin was just a young kid who found someone who seemed to understand him and wanted to be his friend. Robin hungered for Peter Pan’s friendship. It was extremely painful to wake up again and again thrust back into the real world where he knew he didn’t belong.

Robin continued to visit Neverland long into his teenage years. The longer he dreamed the more he became discontented with his own world and wanted out. It was not a healthy situation to be sure. And by then, Robin was treated by the townfolks as ‘slightly’ an oddball - a boy who lived in dreams and got into more trouble leading other town boys astray with their shenanigans and mischievous misadventures.

When the time came, Slightly was only too eager to leave this world behind for a better one. It didn’t take long for him to adapt to Neverland being a real place and Peter, the boy he trusted and come to feel a deep devotion towards was not just a hope and a prayer of his own making. It was a dream come true - he supposed he had always known deep down that he would end up there. Maybe he was dead and this was heaven - either way, he didn’t care. He was where he wanted to be and that was heaven enough for him.

Personality:

+ Witty, Sharp, Observant, Clever, Sneaky - Constant Fear of Abandonment, Blunt, Over-Adventurous, Tactless!

Slightly is TAKEN!

#slightly #thomas brodie sangster #lost boy #taken #takenm #tlost

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httpswellsbury · 2 years

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❛ god doesn’t limp. ❜

first name: indiana last name: alvaréz gender/pronouns: male ; he/they age: 37 birthday: monday, january current residence: downtown current occupation: full time bartender at the abili, part time tattoo artist at saints ink faceclaim: damian priest secret: a man of many secrets, one being an addiction to pain killers because of his lower back. it developed due to severe back pains that he got from his early fighting years and it has worsen overtime. slowly, he became dependent on the pain killers and now is trying to ease himself away from such. who knows your secret: close friends, family

#taken #takenm #damian priest

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secretsummernextgen · 2 years

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[Male, He/him]. Hey, is that [Timothee Chalamet] , no that is just [Ethan Winters] around Baberton. I heard they are [19] years old, and their birthday is [August 2nd] and they’re [Pansexual]. They can mainly be found working as [Receptionist at the Art Gallery] and they have been in town [6 months]. Some say they are [Loyal, Fun-loving, Friendly] and can be [Possessive, Addictive personality, Rash]. If you see them around town, clearly they have survived or maybe they are just barely surviving. Either way, Baberton welcomes you! Enjoy your stay.

Bio:

After everything, Xanthe decided she couldn't be in town anymore and while she still loved her friends and would return to see them and help them she moved to London where she had her son. She doesn't even know or really cares who his father was and so he was raised by his mother on her own being her little pride and joy.

Throughout his life, Ethan was a mediocre student he wasn't the best but he wasn't the worst. He mostly was there to be social and he enjoyed that aspect of it. When he graduated at 16 he didn't even consider college and instead immediately went straight to work as a bartender in London.

He moved out of the house with his mum around the same time but stayed close he wanted some semblance of privacy and independence.

At 18 he decided he wanted a new start and gathered his money-making the move to Barberton. He knew people there and he wanted a smaller town vibe over the city and while she didn't like it his mother supported him as long as he promised to be safe and keep his nose out of anything.

He spends most of his nights now in clubs drinking, getting high, and dancing with anyone cute that he tries to bring back to his place.

Secrets:

Before coming to Barberton he had a boyfriend that was in his fifties. He was a family man with a wife and two kids both older than Ethan but he never saw a problem with it. He also was not going to tell his mother. His boyfriend was the one that paid for his housing and his life even though he told his mom he had a good job as a bartender.

When he asked the man when he was going to leave his wife so they could be together the man turned sour and would yell berate and abuse him. This went on for almost a full year before he almost wound up in the hospital with broken ribs and realized he had to leave immediately going to Barberton thinking the man wouldn't find him there.

He's still worried every day that he's going to be found and drowns his worries in alcohol and drugs. Anyone that might remember Jimmy would recognize the pattern that Ethan is going through though he thinks he hides it well

#ethan #takenm #timothee chalamet

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truthorconsequencesrp · 9 months

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WESLEY BRANDT

CHARACTER NAME: Wesley Brandt FACECLAIM: Chris Hemsworth AGE: Thirty-eight GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cis man, he/him BIRTHDAY/ZODIAC: February 6th, 1985 // Aquarius OCCUPATION: Real Estate Agent HOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN IN T OR C: One year NEIGHBORHOOD: Vista la Verde SONG THAT SUITS THEM: Glass Jaw by chokecherry

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Parental neglect, death

ABOUT:

Wesley was raised with his parents expecting everything from him, despite not giving him much back in terms of emotional support. They were strict, overbearing, and extremely critical. So it's no surprise that Wes grew up with a complex to hide his insecurities and secret need for approval.

He's hyper-sensitive to how others perceive him and internally panics if an interaction isn't going well, or he can sense that the other person doesn't like him. But of course, he hides it. Sometimes he even acts more aloof and like he doesn't care, in order to not be snubbed first.

It wasn't until his father died last year and still didn't have a good word to say to Wes that he realized he shouldn't have been living his life for his unpleasable parents this whole time. He packed his things, got in his car, and started the drive from California to who-knows-where in order to get away from everything. It was supposed to be a short trip, but he ended up staying in Truth or Consequences when he fell in love with the charm of the town and got a breath of fresh air.

He hasn't really made any contact with friends or family back in California this entire time. He's being avoidant, and he knows it, but it's easier to just pretend like he has a new life now with no old responsibilities... or a fiancé he left behind.

Currently, he just got his New Mexico real estate license and is extremely proud of it, even though there's not much real estate to go around in a town of only 6,000. He hopes to pick up another job soon, but isn't sure where to look.

(NIKO, 27, MST, THEY/THEM)

#town rp #oc rp #new rp #takenm #vista la verde #wesley brandt #death tw #parental neglect tw

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riverwoodhq · 11 months

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❝ RELAX, DARLING. I JUST WANT TO GET EVEN. ❞

CHARACTER’S NAME: River Tolson AGE & PRONOUNS: 21, he/him FACECLAIM: Hero Fiennes Tiffin CHARACTER’S JOB: Student at East Mount Academy HOMETOWN: Lakewood, CA.

THE TROUBLEMAKER / ACCOMPLICE

The Troublemaker is often labeled the “criminal” and trouble seems to follow this type. This variant of the rebel archetype is often viewed only negatively and, while its reputation is well deserved, the Troublemaker has some excellent qualities. While this type enjoys “rocking the boat” disrupting the status quo and provoking others, this can also be used to keep a relationship from becoming stagnant, for example. The Troublemaker is not afraid of the change that results from chaos and agitation. Change is a welcome relief for the Troublemaker. By keeping things unsettled and stirred up, this type is useful for maintaining integrity of others and bringing to light corruption and decay. The Troublemaker can be an anarchist, creating chaos for the sense of power it provides. Similar to an arsonist who starts fires and then enjoys watching the chaos that ensues, the Troublemaker makes trouble and then steps back to enjoy the show.

ABOUT

He is known around campus as a cocky yet overly mysterious troublemaker who enjoys being at the center of every public meltdown. He is charming and good-looking, traits that he uses to his advantage to get girls and talk his way out of handcuffs. He is sarcastic, quick-witted, and intelligent despite his resistance to show it in any other way that’s not related to a scheme. He can also be quite possessive over those he cares for. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his friends. In the same vein, he would destroy their other relationships to make sure that he isn’t replaced by anyone. There’s a hidden sadness in him — a repression that he keeps to himself. At the beginning of his adolescence, he quickly realized he was into both sexes. While the other boys in his class were checking out girls, he was checking out girls and boys. But his toxic masculinity has kept that side of himself locked behind an indestructible wall. His parents never tried to get to know him. Therefore, he never tried to get to know himself. Instead, he latches onto his best friend: The Jester, and is only concerned with his opinion. If he were honest with himself he would realize he was in love with The Jester but, that would take some serious self-reflecting and that’s not a trait he has.

CONNECTIONS

THE JESTER — The Jester and the Troublemaker are your modern-day Beavis and Butthead, Bert and Ernie, Joey and Chandler. They do everything together and when people see them coming, they know nothing will good come out of it. They’re the type of friends to show up at your dorm with a bottle of vodka and a planned night out of debauchery. Despite being closer than brothers, they have a knack for ruining good things for each other. Their advice is awful and downright sabotaging. This could have something to do with the Troublemaker’s secret crush on the Jester. If he can’t have him, no one can.

THE BAD BOY — The Bad Boy and the Troublemaker grew up together. Their dads worked on the same construction site and their beef trickled down to their kin. They were pitted against each other at an early age but found common ground when they were around 16-17. After getting drunk together at a party, they hit it off and then had an orgy. But when the drugs and alcohol wore off, awkwardness took its place. They went back to not talking to each other and now when they do, it’s always with a bitter tongue. It’s sad really, because they would make great friends if they could talk it out.

THE SOCIAL BUTTERFLY — As a Social Butterfly, her wings were spread and she was more than willing to explore every corner of the earth. She possessed a sense of curiosity and adventure, never one to embrace boredom. So when The Troublemaker came into her life and introduced her to the dark side, she went in thinking she could leave whenever she wanted. The Troublemaker was supposed to be a detour, an experience, but he became an addiction. He got her hooked on drugs and a lifestyle only lived by Rockstars. Now she’s hopelessly in love with him and refuses to see how bad it is. She’s been supplying him with her father’s drugs from the hospital and he’s been selling them around campus. If either one of them gets caught, her wings will become caged in a jail cell, and her ambitions will rot.

THIS CHARACTER IS CURRENTLY TAKEN AND PLAYED BY ADAM

#mature rp #town rp #city rp #literate rp #lsrp #taken #takenm #skeleton #bio #the troublemaker

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verycoolsnails · 4 months

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I nned to stop alien . Not really posting . Uhhh alien thinking . I have stuff to do ....

#thonking. more abt au (if you know you know ) lately and . aigh . god . i wanna share my thoughts sososoososos badly but itd takenme at leas #t two hours and i have stuff to do .#.... ughbhhhh

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itsgoldleaf · 2 years

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Me: posting about writing and getting through the struggle and the process and all the stuff i’ve learned

Also me, this second: WHY WON’T YOU JUST BE A FIC OH MY GOD

#i stg this opening scene has takenme 40 attempts #but you’ll be damned sure it’ll be a good one once i eventually nail it alafdjgdhgd #writing #goldleaf's writing

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senatushq · 5 months

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Lucifer

NAME/ALIASES. UTP AGE & BIRTH DATE. Prehistoric+ & Unknown SPECIES. Archfiend GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him or He/They AFFILIATIONS. N/A OCCUPATION. UTP

history

Son of Ulthar; Lucifer was his most beautiful creation. The Great Old Ones came to call him the Morningstar, as bright and as fearsome as the light of day, he fought fearlessly at the side of his siblings from the moment that he was born. Lucifer, like so many others, were promised a realm that was their own; they would be free to do as they pleased, and in the garden that would come to be created the Blessed Children of Ulthar would hold dominion. Lucifer brazenly spread this gospel amongst his siblings, preaching the good word of his father as it was relayed to him. Beautiful beyond reason, there were few that could stand to not listen when Lucifer spoke. For an untold amount of years they fought, Lucifer watched as countless friends and family were cut down before his very eyes but still he battled for the promise of a better tomorrow. When victory was theirs, it was short lived: Eden rose amidst the ruins of a dead world and Lucifer watched as the elves planted their seeds and grew their great trees. He waited for the keys to the Kingdom, for him and his siblings to be granted dominion over the crop but as Prometheus’ abominations came from his kiln, these humans were not made to kneel.

Years in Eden trickled by as Lucifer was made a sentinel, a glorified babysitter and scarecrow; the people revered the Morningstar’s beauty but he wanted more. He wanted what had been promised to him and in quiet discontent he whispered to those whose hearts were most akin to his own. In due time, Ulthar did the unthinkable, he commanded his legions of seraphim to kneel at the feet of Adam and Eve. Michael took a knee, but Lucifer refused and anarchy ensued. The seraphim that would come to be called Fallen, revolted, and lunged first at the Gods’ precious trees. A rebellion of angels that lasted centuries saw Lucifer’s Grace torn from him, in the ninth level he was confined and there the Abyss seeped into his essence and took root over where his Grace had once been. Cold that was colder than anything ate away at the beauty Lucifer had once held, twisted him into something vile and redefined. An archfiend crawled its way inside and down Lucifer's throat, a beast he chewed, swallowed, and consumed with eager greed. Inferno’s gates came crashing down and Lucifer charged the kingdom of Ulthar: Elysia. The monarchy of Hell at the head, Lucifer was declared the new King of Elysia from the seat of his bloodied throne.

connections

Seraphic Archfiends: Confined together, they're siblings that dominated archfiends and subjugated the powers of the Abyss to become what they are today: the Monarchy of Hell.

Seraphim: Siblings who fought together and stood beside one another in Eden, Lucifer was once loved by many, and hated by none.

Eden: Once a beloved protector, Lucifer looked down on the people of Eden but did his duty up until he had no choice but to rebel.

abilities

Sin Manipulation: An ambient power that affects those around him, with focus Lucifer can increase a single sin within someone while he's near them, otherwise it's a general affect to those he encounters.

Esoteric Hellfrost Manipulation: Able to perform magic through the application of hellfrost, the coldest element know. Through this he can curse, create constructs, and forge weapons from it. Because of this hellfire has little effect on him.

Beauty: No matter the vessel he inhabits, anyone who looks upon Lucifer will see him as beautiful.

Immortal: Ageless, Lucifer himself will never grow old.

weaknesses

Human: However durable Lucifer's vessel is still mortal and needs to eat, sleep, and carry out basic bodily functions.

Witchcraft: A coven is able to trap or confined Lucifer for a period of time, or release him from his vessel.

Corpse: Graceless, Lucifer can only possess the bodies of the dead.

Seraph: An angelic blade through the chest will destroy him, and kill him.

this skeleton is currently closed.

#takenc #takenm #lucifer #takenarchfiend

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happiestplacehq · 1 year

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BENAK SINGH is forty years old. He is a ranger at the Redwood Hollow Nature Reserve. He is the humanized version of Bagheera from the Disney film, The Jungle Book.

+ Level-headed, Wise, Selfless - Serious, Inflexible, Fussy

ABOUT BENAK

Benak Singh moved to Redwood Hollow in his twenties, when he went to study at the university. He had only meant for it to be a temporary move. He had assumed that the town did not have the career opportunities that his parents wanted for him. Looking to pursue a lucrative career, he studied Property Development and Business. However, Benak had hardly begun his degree when he began to realize the harsh consequences land development corporations were having on the environment, displacing large swaths of natural flora and fauna for homes that would often remain empty as assets for the companies, not even housing families in exchange. Despite knowing that there was not much money behind most environmentalist jobs, Benak switched his major with a determination to pursue a career in helping protect nature, not destroy it. He joined activist groups and devoted much of his free time to volunteering in any way he could.

After graduating, he travelled the world for some time after, researching the impact that big business was having on the planet, and giving talks anywhere that would hear him. He developed a passion for teaching the importance of people’s relationship with the land, and especially for working with animals respectfully.

In his late twenties, Benak returned to Redwood Hollow, and began working with the local nature reserve. For over a decade he has worked there as a caretaker and educator, and has continued to constantly study any and all he can about plants and animals, as he feels there is always more to learn. He has remained an enthusiastic member of local activist groups, and still spends much of his free time volunteering, as well as in the Mayor’s office pitching his cases for the reserve getting more funding.

Benak is level-headed, wise, and selfless, and often comes off as cool and collected, and very friendly. However, he can also be fussy, serious, and inflexible. He has a close relationship with his co-worker Bodhi, and has become a mentor to a student at the university named Mohan. He has a very antagonistic relationship with the local property developer, Shikhar. When not working or researching, Benak enjoys staying in and reading or watching nature documentaries with a hot cup of tea, surrounded by his three cats. He has a weakness for homemade sweets and a distaste for cars.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

Pronouns He/Him

Sexuality: Gay

Has a pet black cat named Bagheera, a Himalayan cat named Kingsley, and a Scottish fold kitten named Kip!

CONNECTIONS

Bodhi Gafur - A co-worked at the Nature Reserve. The two are polar opposites, but despite this they get on like a house on fire. Mohan Sethi - A student at the local college who Benak has become a mentor to. It was Benak who guided Mohan toward his chosen major. Shikhar Kanthi - A local property developer, and the bane of Benak’s life at the Nature Reserve. They hold wildly different views.

Benak is currently unavailable. His faceclaim is Mahesh Jadu.

#disney rp #disney roleplay #lsrpg #ouat rp #fairytale rp #town rp #the jungle book #all #taken #takenm

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mobscene-london · 1 year

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BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: Berat Yalaz. AGE: 32. PLACE OF BIRTH: Antalya, Türkiye. AFFILIATION: The Rutherford Family. The Turkish gangs based in Haringey. OCCUPATION: Enforcer. Owner of The Circle gym. FACE CLAIM: Çağatay Ulusoy. AVAILABILITY: TAKEN.

BIOGRAPHY:

(Warning: Okay, this ended up way longer than Ayaz’s, so sorry about that, first and foremost. Secondly, I’ll be real, this one is pretty rough. It briefly mentions abuse. Pretty explicitly deals with depression/suicide, drug use and addiction, and all kinds of other awful shit. It was difficult to write. So yeah, if any of those things bother you, particularly the depression/suicide/drugs, better give it a miss.)

"Don’t do this to him.” To me. “It’s not too late to come back. You know that. We’re still here.”

And in spite of all that followed, Berat realised he always would be.

When he’d eventually sought out the woman he’d called a friend for all of his best years, it’d been with the sole intention of lambasting her for her callous abandonment. It’d been such a savage and surprising blow, it’d taken him so long to process, she’d already gone and started her fancy new life as a lapdog for their oppressors before he’d even found her. But whilst he’d very much meant to make his feelings on the matter known—perhaps earning a bit of personal closure in the process—when Berat finally came face-to-face with her, the anger had melted away in an instant.

He’d never begged a soul for anything in his damn life until Nevra.

In that moment, she would be both the first and last.

Everybody had assumed the British put him in the hospital as punishment for his attempts to coax their friend back to her real home. Whilst he didn’t doubt that’d played some part in stoking their ire, though, there was more to the altercation than he was willing to admit. What he hadn’t shared with his friends was that the Rutherfords had approached him with the same damn offer they’d made Nevra…and not for the first time. Abandon his family for a chance at a better life with them. Whatever the fuck that meant. It wasn’t as though he planned on finding out…

They'd almost murdered him that night for saying no.

Given what followed, he spent a lot of time wishing they had succeeded.

If the choice had been up to him, Berat never would’ve come to London at all, and maybe that would’ve been kinder. Life back in Türkiye wasn’t easy by any stretch, but it was still his home. His family had a small house, and an olive grove that was all their own, and on the days when his father would go to work in the city, Berat would spend his time helping his mother tend to their garden. The setting was idyllic. As a young boy, he should’ve been happy. But things were rarely as simple as they seemed from the outside, and for him and his mother, that was no different.

Berat envied those who remembered little from their earliest years. Whilst his mother was a kind soul he adored with all his heart, his father was the polar opposite; often aggressive toward his wife, but even more so to the son he despised without reason. The two had endured the man’s physical and emotional abuse for almost seven years until one day, he hadn’t bothered coming back from the city at all. It was more of a relief than he could’ve imagined: being without fear. To be able to leave home without worrying about the state his mother would be in when he returned. To a naïve seven year old, he’d imagined that they could just go about their lives as if nothing was different. Just the two of them, enjoying all the things he’d tried to take away from them…

But reality hit hard, because life didn’t work like that.

It hadn’t dawned on him until much later that moving to London was less of a choice and more of an escape. That she was scared one day he would come back.

Perhaps that was why he’d been so angry with her for it in the beginning. Berat loved his mother, but he couldn’t understand why she’d dragged him to a foreign country—away from his friends, away from his family—without giving him any choice in the matter. Even though she tried to assure him that they were moving to a Turkish community, it didn’t help. Berat had struggled to learn English, and that made making new friends more difficult than anticipated. School was a constant source of anxiety because he never understood what was going on, and the other kids mocked him for that, and his education suffered terribly as a result. He just couldn’t adjust. Maybe a stubborn part of him didn’t want to. His mother had been so worried for him—her son becoming more and more withdrawn by the day—until something finally changed.

Berat met her.

It’d been the day they’d moved into their second flat. It was a shitty little place in Wood Green that he’d despised on sight until their neighbours came to greet them. Berat had spent so many nights crying himself to sleep because he missed home. His happy place. His grandparents. The dogs they had to leave with his aunt. He cried because he felt like he had nobody. He cried out of frustration. He cried for not being able to understand the other kids when they made jokes at his expense. He cried because his dad had ruined his life in so many ways he would never care about...

When she’d walked through his door, though—wearing the most beautiful smile in the whole world, he was sure—for the first time since leaving Antalya, he knew something good was finally happening.

To describe her, what she meant to him, he would never find the words. Ceren had been the kindest person he’d ever met. A blessing he hadn’t deserved, but absolutely needed. That afternoon, as their mothers got to know each other, she’d taken him by the hand and excitedly shown him all her favourite places to visit within the small distance they were allowed to venture. Her Turkish wasn’t very good, but he didn’t care, because somehow they seemed to be able to communicate as if there was no language barrier at all. Berat had realised quickly that kids were cruel. But never her.

When she’d gone home that evening, he’d never felt so deflated.

It was okay, though. Almost every day after that one, they found each other again.

Ceren spent her school lunchtimes helping him to understand his work. They practiced his English, and he helped her with Turkish. Most importantly of all, though, she’d unknowingly given him back the confidence he’d been missing since he stepped off that plane. The confidence to stand up for himself. To put himself out there, and find the will to make other friends.

Long before Nazli had saved him from his addiction, Ceren had saved him from himself.

Life had seemed a lot less daunting with her at his side, and as the years passed, each became easier than the last. Berat had eventually found his own group of friends; Kerem, Nevra, and Azra all helping to make London finally feel less hostile. Much like Kerem and Azra had gravitated toward each other, though, it had been Nazli who’d stolen his heart. The two were utterly inseparable. Twin flames, and connoisseurs of absolute fucking chaos, and for the first time in years, he finally felt as though he belonged. They’d all played their part in that, and he was grateful for it. But there was somebody else who would prove to be the most important of all.

Never could he have imagined falling as hard for someone as he did Ayda.

She was beautiful, and kind, and felt like home. Like the others, Berat had since found his footing in the Turkish gang—the very same one that her terrifying father happened to co-lead—but the fear of him finding out he was dating his daughter wasn’t even close to enough to discourage him. How could it be? Ceren had been the one to make him realise that life was what you made of it. That if you found something wonderful, you had to embrace it instead of being scared to lose it. And that was exactly what he did when it came to Ayda.

With the exception of Ceren moving to Porto Velho—though the two were so incapable of being without each other, even distance proved no match—life was perfect.

Though Kerem was the leader of their sub-crew in the Turkish gang, Berat had absolutely proven himself the poster boy for what a dedicated member looked like. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for a family that’d embraced him as if he was their own. Mehmet, in particular, had been the first and only true father figure in his life. Berat worked hard, did as he was told, and made sure to look out for the people who mattered. Most importantly of all, though, his stature was so fucking imposing that despite the fact those closest to him knew he was a gentle giant, his mere presence was daunting enough that he became the go-to accompaniment to any meeting where things were expected to go south.

Handy, really, when he loved nothing more than a good fight…

The more time he spent with Ayda, though—particularly when she made the decision to leave gang life behind—the more he wondered how things would be without it all. It wasn’t as though he ever really planned to be a gangster. It kind of just happened, and he had happily rolled with the tide. They spoke extensively about starting a family of their own, opening a business that could support them without continuing to be a part of a dangerous lifestyle, and eventually, the two even moved in together. Berat’s mother hated his choice of work. Ayda craved the normalcy and security. So what else was there to consider?

Berat had taken her home to Antalya to propose.

Not only marriage, but that he finally take his permanent leave from the gang.

It would be the beginning of the rest of their lives. All they’d ever wanted...

An unfortunate phone call before he got the chance, however, would unknowingly pull on a thread that would unravel everything in the blink of an eye.

Neither of them could even begin to understand what was to come.

For all that followed—for the many things he would regret until he met his own grave—there was nothing that haunted him more than the decision to go to Nevra that night. The physical toll of the beating that followed was worse than anybody understood, but it was the emotional toll, the mental one, that solidified his devastating downfall. The head injury he’d suffered was so severe that initially, his doctors weren’t even sure he’d be able to speak again, and maybe that was why when Ceren had visited his bedside, the first he remembered after waking from the coma, his inability to communicate had him feeling like he was back at square one. The same kid who had arrived in London; lost and alone. The pain in her expression was so genuine it’d broken his heart right then. Hurt him in ways he didn’t know he was capable of feeling.

Berat wondered if she would have come at all had she known her husband was one of the men who’d put him there…

God, he’d fucking hated himself for the anger he felt toward her. Ceren had never been a part of that life. Never considered herself one of the Rutherfords. She’d just chosen to be with someone who was. In his heart he knew she had nothing to be sorry for, and yet for the first time since she’d walked through his door all those years ago, he didn’t even want to look at her. The two had always had their way of communicating, even when they couldn’t… Berat didn’t need to tell her he was angry. He didn’t need to tell her that he didn’t want to see her. He didn’t need to tell her to leave.

Ceren knew.

Even now, he tortures himself with all the ways he would have done it differently if he’d known. Should have. After everything they’d been through, he’d pushed away the biggest light in his life, and he could never forgive himself for that.

Neither of them knew it would be the last time they’d see each other.

In one fell swoop he’d lost Nevra, Ceren, and his entire sense of identity. The only thing he hadn’t lost was Ayda, and even he knew that was inevitable.

Berat was hurting more than anybody knew because the idea of sharing it made him feel like even more of a burden than his injuries had turned him into. He could no longer contribute to the gang, or look after the people he swore to protect. He couldn’t work to help support Ayda and the future they had planned together. He was in near constant physical pain. Kerem was suffering, and he was too fucking incapacitated to be there for his brother. Then there was losing Ceren; the one thing that had cut him so deeply, the only way he could mask the pain was to bury it under his hate for the Rutherfords who had done this to them in the first place.

In all the years he’d spent around the drugs the Turks pushed out of Haringey, never once had he been tempted. But he just didn’t know how to cope anymore.

It was the easy way out, and he’d hate himself for that forever.

And maybe, just maybe, he would’ve been strong enough to pull himself back from the brink if he hadn’t lost her.

But he had.

This time it wasn’t distance, and it wasn’t pain. And no matter how many times he kept telling himself that they never got to say goodbye so she had to come back, he knew that one of the very best parts of his life—one of the few reasons he had left to keep breathing—was gone forever. Over and over again, he replayed the memory of her leaving his hospital room; hurting because of him. Over and over again, he replayed the very first time he’d seen that smile…

The last time they’d met, Ceren thought he blamed her for what’d happened.

What if she’d died feeling the same way?

Berat had been so fucking high he hadn’t even made it to the funeral.

When he’d picked up the needle that night, sick to the stomach knowing he couldn’t even get his shit together long enough to say goodbye, he’d muttered only one thing before it hit:

“I’ll be there soon.”

Some people turned to drugs as a way to cope with their problems, and maybe he’d been one of them at the start. But this was something else, now. Attempting to help seemed so utterly futile because he didn’t want to get better. The drugs weren’t there to dull the pain. They weren’t there to curb his guilt. They weren’t a means to avoid his problems…

Berat was hoping they’d do what he was too much of a coward to do himself.

It was impossible to blame Ayda for eventually walking away from him, no matter how much it hurt. Trying to destroy his life was destroying hers, too.

The distance he’d put between himself and the people he cared about should have made it easier. By that point, not only was Ayda gone, but he’d even stopped talking to his own mother. Emine. But Nazli was so fucking persistent—adamant, above all else, that she would not lose another friend—that no matter how brutal his cycle of self destruction became, she refused to let it take him away. God, she was so stubborn. It was the toughest love he’d ever received, and there were days where the only person he despised more than her was himself. All he wanted to do was go. All he wanted was to feel nothing at all. He’d lost everything, and she would see him suffer through it? After everything? What reason did he have left to try?

“You have me!”

So rare was it she showed emotion like that, he almost didn’t know how to process it at all.

When she’d finally broken down in front of him—the first and only time he’d ever seen his best friend cry—Berat was finally hit with the realisation of what he’d become. For all his agony, he’d lost sight of the fact he wasn’t the only person in this equation. That he didn’t get to decide what he was worth to the people around him. Others were hurting, too, and this time, he was the one to blame.

Nazli had left him that night, and he’d been so sure she wasn’t coming back, just like Ayda, that it had sent him into a spiral. Whether she’d intended it or not, that had finally been the turning point he’d needed. The wakeup call that brought him back to a reality he’d been detached from for so fucking long he barely recognised it anymore. It was the first and only time someone had managed to break through to him since his descent into misery; not because Nazli had meant more to him than Ayda had, but because he realised he couldn’t be the reason she lost someone she cared about. Not when he knew what it was like to suffer through that pain first-hand.

Berat loved her too much to put her through that.

It had been him that’d found her, instead of waiting for her to come back.

Maybe Nazli hadn’t been expecting that, but fuck, she hadn’t even hesitated to embrace him instead cutting him off entirely like he damn well deserved. When she smiled at him, he knew. Berat was ready. And so began the long and arduous road to his recovery.

It took months to make any progress at all, but she’d been at his side for every moment of it; never discouraged by his struggles, not even by the times it felt like they were moving backwards. There had been relapses, of course, but Nazli always focused on finding momentum again instead of condemning him for the days where he just couldn’t fight it anymore. His best friend was no saint, but with him, she’d had the patience of one, and he knows that for as long as he lives, he’ll never be able to repay her for it. All he can do is vow never to disappoint her. And truthfully, healthy or not, that was a better driving force behind his sobriety than doing it for himself ever was.

Stepping back into gang life had come last, because Nazli knew that being around drugs again, even in passing, was a dangerous situation to put him in. But now that Ayda was gone and all semblance of the future he’d planned for had followed, he had nothing else. Dangerous it might have been, so was having no purpose in life at all.

Berat had been eight months sober when he finally re-joined his family.

Then it had been twelve.

And now it’s been eighteen.

Life will never be the same for him, and coming to terms with that was a large part of the recovery process. In spite of the progress he’s made, the itch, the desire, it never really leaves. But he’s made positive changes to avoid challenging himself. He doesn’t drink so much, he doesn’t party, and he doesn’t do anything that threatens the self-control he’s worked so fucking hard to maintain. One wrong move and years of work is gone and he can’t do that to himself. Or her. And even though there are many days where he wakes up and sits with the fact life would’ve been easier if Nazli had just let him go, he knows that the struggle was worth it for his best friend.

For all of them.

Berat can’t fix all the mistakes he’s made. Some of the things he’s done aren’t even worthy of forgiveness from himself. But for the first time since losing Ceren, the clarity has made him realise he has to try. And that’s a start.

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. Ayda Demir (ex-girlfriend) FAMILY: Fatma Yalaz (mother, unplayable), Emine Yalaz (maternal cousin) CONNECTIONS:

tba

#woof #taken #takenm #rutherford #beratyalaz #now you know why he hates the ruthas so bad #:)

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