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The Daughters of Miss Violet Parr
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Violet Parr
Violet Parr

Feb-25-2009 03:59

Leopold Parr walked as fast as he possibly could in and around Victoria Station. The young officer had anticipated the arrival of his younger sister with great trepidation. He finally saw her waiting for him in a mauve overcoat and a large purple hat through the window of one of the station’s waiting rooms.

When Miss Violet Parr got up and walked out of the waiting room, Leopold’s walk turned into a sprint as he finally reached Violet and hugged her tightly in a collision of joy.

Violet pushed hard against his force not to fall on her back. She kissed him on the cheek and whispered. “Really Leopold, this show of affection can do with some self-restraint!”

“Two years in France…” Leopold replied, “…haven’t changed you a bit!”

“I know better than to let the French freely mold me to their pleasing!” Violet Parr huffed in a mock of indignation. Then she turned her gaze to a young girl standing next to her looking curiously and cautiously at Leopold. “…but I am afraid I can’t say the same about young Isabella.”

Leopold looked at his young niece in utter astonishment: Isabella was a pretty little thing with curiously mixed features. At such a young age, her skin looked like a yellowish tanned shade of ivory. She had long light brown hair, hazel eyes and a serious look of disapproval on her face.


Joseph Zeo
Joseph Zeo
Tale Spinner

Mar-2-2009 01:20

The trans-Atlantic ocean liner could not enter the shallower water of the river Thames. Passengers had to be ferried to the dock on smaller ships. Upon setting foot on the transfer vessel, Zeo met Clift again.

The renowned detective was friendly enough, and it always felt good to meet someone from your hometown when traveling abroad. Zeo introduced Gregory to Clift, and their topic of conversation drifted to the location of their accommodations in London. Gregory told Clift the address of their to-be-residence.

“I believe the place is several blocks northwest of the New Scotland Yard headquarter at the Victoria Embankment. It’s not too far from the dock. You should be able to get there on foot within half an hour.” Clift replied in hopes of assisting the two new arrivals. Zeo thanked Clift for the information. Their ship finally docked and they parted company.

Joseph Zeo
Joseph Zeo
Tale Spinner

Mar-2-2009 01:21

**Two hours later**

“Are you sure we should be turning right?” Zeo questioned.

Gregory glanced at his map and headed east again. Zeo believed they were currently due north from the Victoria Embankment Headquarter, which meant they had already gone too far. Spending days on an ocean liner was already very taxing to Zeo. He was getting ‘land seasick’- feeling dizzy as if he was still on the boat, and all he wanted at that moment was to rest his head on a sturdy bed.

To Zeo, the architecture of this ancient city all looked the same from street to street. Small, compact units lined up one after another like little toy modules. When they passed the seedier part of town, Zeo couldn’t help but noticed people talking with a mix of American accents. He never knew there were so many people from the ‘new world’ here in England, and mentioned this observation to Gregory.

“Well, we all know what it’s like in America nowadays. After the crash, no one’s getting paid enough. There are many who just want to press their luck some place else, and lots of croaks came here looking for the dough as well, if there’s any.” Gregory said in passing.

It took Zeo much effort to convince his friend to turn around. Forty-five minutes later, as dust was about to set in, the two finally reached their flat. They had to hull their luggage up 3 floors, and to Zeo the hallways in London seemed to be very narrow and dark. The flat was also tiny, but at least Gregory and Zeo each had their own room. Zeo crashed onto the bed; it was hard and sturdy, just the way he liked it. Next day, they will need to report in. Zeo did not intend to worry about it until tomorrow.

Joseph Zeo
Joseph Zeo
Tale Spinner

Mar-2-2009 01:57

((spelling correction: croaks --> crooks. Should read "and lots of crooks came here looking for some dough...". Apologies.))

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-2-2009 13:20

“Finally…” mumbled Bane…”this dog made himself useful.” Stepping towards where the barking came from, somewhere at the head of the car he was in, Joey hear a loud noise, as if the car’s door was opened. He then heard a last bark, followed quickly by the terrible growling of a dog fighting. He quickly started running towards the scene, only to find the nun…gone. Pierre was just standing in front of the open door, chewing satisfied on what seemed to be a piece of cloth, probably coming from the woman’s robe.

“Damn!” exclaimed Bane looking down at the dog. “Did you even consider…questioning her, Pierre?” The dog turned around throwing a bored look onto him and then left on the aisle, acting again as if Joey wouldn’t even exist. “Arrghh…forget it.”

Bane closed the door and then headed back to the crime scene in order to check the man’s pockets, hoping to find at least an ID, or anything else that could give him a clue on how to go forward on this.

Unfortunately he came out empty handed. He then headed towards his compartment and checked into the man’s luggage. He had only one bag and it only contained…dirty laundry.

Just as he was about to put it aside in defeat, Bane noticed a hidden compartment on the bottom. He opened it up and pulled out a small silver cigarette case. Two letters were engraved on its cover: “F.G...Who the hell is F.G.?” He opened it up and found that besides a couple of cigarettes, it contained nothing else. “Why would he hide a cigarette case? It doesn’t look really valuable… Hmmm…maybe this guy was smoking grass.” He smelled the cigarettes and decided there was nothing particularly about them. Bane gave up, shoving the case in his pocket for later analysis.

In about half hour the train was finally reaching Victoria Station.

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-2-2009 13:21

Since nobody seemed to have seen him running around the train and handling the dead body, Joey decided it would be safer for him not notify the authorities and keep his name out of this. “They’ll find him sooner or later…I’m guessing sooner.”

Stepping out of the train, Bane stopped for minute to figure out his direction. It was past midnight and since he didn’t plan ahead for this trip, he had no idea where to head off first. Obviously, he ended up in the first pub his eyes laid upon. There were no customers that late in night, besides a couple of drunks sleeping on the tables…considering they could still be called customers in that state. Joey ordered himself a bottle of scotch and took a seat at the bar.

Upon swallowing a couple of shots, his eyes laid upon his image in a mirror on the back wall of the bar. He was unshaved, showing a few bruises from hitting the steer wheel during the crash and his eyes looked somehow tired and empty. Even though he was always showing off as being a man who takes things easy, having to leave his crib was a bit too much even for himself. He never wanted anything else than to have a chance on living his life in peace. He was never lucky in this regard, as it seemed that always trouble had managed to find him one way or another. True enough that each time he would find a way to get out of it with a clean face, but it was starting to wear him off. He took another look at his face, noticing the thick pack of wrinkles in the corner of his eyes and also that he was starting to visibly lose his hair. “Not my best shape…” he mumbled. “I’m starting to look old…and feel old for that matter.”

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-2-2009 13:22

“Not having one of your best days, I see…” started the bartender as he was wiping a glass of wine.

“Haven’t seen one for some time now…” replied Bane, gulping yet another shot of scotch. “Hit me.” He slammed the empty glass on the bar counter.

The tender filled it back up. “You don’t seem to be from around here, Mr…”

“Bane. Joseph Bane. Currently…out of business, I could say.”

“Your accent…I’d say you’re an American.”

“And you wouldn’t be wrong, mate: born and brought up on and by the streets of old New York!”

“So…American…” The bartender leaned onto his elbow on the counter in order to lower his voice, looking around suspiciously to see if anyone’s listening. “Say…we got a lot of…”


“WOHOW!!!...What the hell is THAT? Is that pug face yours?” By saying that, the tender took a step behind cautiously, rising up on his feet at the same time in order to see somewhere near Bane’s legs.

Joey didn’t even mind to turn around. “I assume you’re looking straight at a big golden dog with a flat face, aren’t you?”

“Damn right! What’s with him?”

“Well…he ain’t mine…he just seems to follow me around, but pretty much does what he wants. Hmmm…on second thought, correction: he does ONLY what he wants! Just…give him a bowl of water and leave him be. He’ll eventually go away.” With this Bane gulped again his glass.

Pierre drank thirsty out of the bowl he was put in front and then just laid down at Bane’s feet.

“So…” Joey restarted the conversation. “You were saying…”

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-2-2009 13:23

“Oh, yeah.” The tender assumed again his previous position. “I was saying…we got a lot of you Americans around here lately. Most of you are quite…‘open to suggestions’, so to say.” With this he eyed Joey with a studying look to see his reaction.

“Well now, I also happen to consider myself an…’open minded’ individual” replied Bane with a tricky smile.

“Does that mean I can trust you, Mr. Joseph Bane?”

“What the hell do you expect from me, mate? To present you a ‘resume’? I got the feeling that what you’re about to propose me ain’t really that kind of…suggestion. So shoot away, before I fall asleep on your counter!”

“Alright, I can see we’re looking in the same direction.”

“Well, I’m looking through the bottom of an empty glass right now, so if you wouldn’t mind…”

The bartender filled up his glass once again. “I see you’re a man with a strong build. You look like a fighter or something.”

“Yeah…I used to be a boxer. Like everything else in my life though, that also was a dead end direction. Now…are you gonna get to the point tonight? I’m getting kinda bored over here.”

“Ok. We…are running some shipments around…merchandise we don’t like other people to see…”

“Shipments you say? As in…crossing things on a boat from one side of the Thames to the other? Long trips…don’t know if I have the time for something like this.”Bane was laughing.

“You wanna make some money or what?”

“Ok, mate…pardon my manners. I’m listening now.”

“Good. Sometimes our…shipments may run into trouble. We’re looking for some strong fellows who can ensure…handling problems.”

“That almost sounds like an ‘honest job’, lad. And yeah…I guess I could use some extra cash. Ain’t like I’m sitting on ‘unlimited reserves’ over here. So, fire away. Where do I need to be and when?”

“Don’t be so anxious, Mr. Bane. Just be here tomorrow afternoon. I’ll introduce you to someone who’ll give you more details.”

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-2-2009 13:26

Bane nodded. “Alright. Now…you think you could also introduce me to a place where I could drop my old bones onto a bed?”

“Come to think of it, yeah. I got a friend who owns a small ferry, docked on the river somewhere close to here. He’s out of town for the time being, but I guess he wouldn’t mind if you used it for a while. He’s pretty much not doing anything with it.”

“A ferry you say? Well…I never lived on a boat before, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“That wouldn’t come though for free.”

“Nothing ever does, mate. Nothing ever does…”

These being said, Bane negotiated a price and followed the tender’s direction to the small boat. It wasn’t much, but it had a cozy cabin and Joey wasn’t exactly an exigent customer. He settled in and quickly fell in a deep sleep, rocked slowly by the Thames’s waves. Pierre had remained on the deck.

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-2-2009 15:07


Joey woke up quite early in the morning. Being a heavy drinker lately, he usually hardy ever got up before noon, yet sleeping anywhere else but in his bed made him uncomfortable. He was pleasantly surprised noticing now that the small ferry had quite a lot of equipment considering its reduced size, including also a small bathroom. He took a shower and shaved, put on a better suit and went up onshore.

Upon having a coffee and sharing a large sandwich with Pierre, who now seemed to enjoy hanging around him, Joey left the small restaurant on the river bank and went out for a morning walk on the streets of London.

While strolling around aimlessly looking at the people and studying the surroundings, he finally ended up in a small square. Somewhere in a corner a few market stalls were exposing what seemed to be a toys exhibition. With a simple man’s curiosity, he approached the small crowd gathered around them.

Suddenly he noticed Pierre had just departed from near his foot aiming directly to a little girl and starting to sniff her head to toe upon reaching her. The kid raised her hand and slowly patted him on the head, saying something in what seemed to be…French: “Quel beau chiot!”

Bane was amazed and somehow touched by the image he was looking at. The little girl was smiling kindly at this otherwise dreadful animal, which was treating her with the gentleness of a pussycat. He took a better look at the child. A long light brown hair was framing a sweet face covered in ivory skin and she had the sweetest pair of round hazel eyes. Somehow her traits looked familiar, but Bane couldn’t pinpoint exactly who they reminded him of.

After playing a bit with Pierre’s ears, the girl said again something in French with the same crystalline voice: “Assoyez-vous.” At that, Pierre suddenly assumed a sitting position.

“Damn!” mumbled Bane. “This dog actually DOES understand French!”

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-2-2009 15:09

The little girl laughed in content. Pierre continued sniffing her and finally ended his analysis by licking the girl’s cheek once.

“Horrid!” came another child voice from somewhere behind her, as she was laughing again while wiping her face with the bottom of her dress.

Bane pointed his eyes to where the second voice came from and noticed another little girl, seeming to him even more familiar than the first one. She had dark hair, her face showing soft yet chiseled features drawn onto a light olive complexion, marked elegantly by a pair of deep dark eyes. As she encountered Bane’s look she was quickly overcome by the usual shyness of a child and hid herself behind her mother’s vivid purple dress. The woman had her back turned towards Bane, so he couldn’t see her face.

Catching a glimpse of the first little girl playing with Pierre, she quickly turned around to her: “Isabelle, please stop that at once. It does not become you to play with street animals.” With an elegant move she adjusted her large violet hat in order to protect herself better from the morning sun. “And please speak in English” She added.

She didn’t notice Joey, but he got a good look at his face. For a moment he was astonished, looking at her and the back and forth at the two little girls: “Violet Parr!?! Twins?” He quickly regained his thoughts and smiled. The sight of Miss Parr with her usual tight attitude in such a normal and enchanting posture of a mother with her children in the middle of a toy market was simply a delight for him. He put his hands in his pockets and assumed a straight posture, raising his chin a bit in a slightly mocking position. He spoke loud and clear:

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