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The Young Victoria Joseph Bane
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Violet Parr
Violet Parr

Mar-13-2009 04:11

To know what happened previously in this story please review the following thread.

The Daughters of Miss Violet Parr:


Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-22-2009 15:22

*Brighton - Harborside Motel - room 21 - 22:00hr*

Little Victoria was admiring herself in the mirror, apparently enchanted by the new dress she wore. She took small pirouettes just like a little ballerina.

Mike just stood there watching her as if he couldn’t get enough of her innocent beauty. He didn’t know whether it was because she was practically his only real link to his past or simply because he thought she was his daughter, but he indeed seemed to experience strong feelings for the kid.

“You look just like a little princess” he said as he appeared in the mirror, placing a hand onto her shoulder, smiling.

She looked at his reflection and smiled back, then took a deep bow as a ‘thank you’ as she did before. It seemed a little strange to him that she had such elegant manners, as nothing that he found out so far about his own person had given him the impression of having been more than a common man.

“Alright, kid” concluded him after a couple of minutes. “We need to go now. Daddy’s got a…meeting.” He looked around in search of the dog. “Hey…where did Pierre go?”

Victoria started to also look around the room, posing the usual exaggeration in her gestures as children usually do and then looked up to Mike and raised her shoulders, turning around both her palms.

“Well…maybe he’s around” concluded McCabe in the end. “He’ll show up later, I guess…so let’s go.”

He stretched his hand towards his daughter, but she stepped back, raised both her hands and smiled large at him.

“Oh well…then carrying it is” he said with a large smile, picking her up into his arms.


Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-22-2009 15:23

*Brighton - McKinley’s Brewery - main lounge - 22:20hr*

“Anna! What a nice surprise to find you here!” exclaimed Mike seeing at the bar the waitress from the restaurant that day.

“McCabe…” she smiled “and also your little lovely daughter! Come here, take a seat.” She was all honey. “What in the world are you both doing here…Mike? Can I call you Mike?”

He nodded smiling. “You can call me anything you want, darling…as long as you called me tonight!”

“Well…I guess we have a naughty father on our hands…” flirted her back. “ You sure about this, sugar? You…don’t exactly seem to be in your best shape, you know…” She touched a cut above his eyebrow. “What ever happened to you, anyway?”

“Oh yeah…” Mike said, remembering the cuts and scratches on his face. “Apparently…I ran into a window. Don’t ask me any details though.”

“Secretive, huh? I hope you’re not going to get mysterious on me, McCabe.”

“Don’t worry, hun…I have quite enough mystery into my life right now.” He tried a cunning smile and took a seat, lifting Victoria up on a stool between them. “Say…” he continued “…I need to ask of you a little favor…”

Anna lit up a cigarette and gave him a half flirting and half mocking smile. “You just got into town today and not only you want to crawl between my sheets, but you’re already asking favors too?”

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-22-2009 15:24

Mike laughed.

“Now seriously, girl. I booked myself a fight tonight, but since I don’t know anybody in this town I had to bring the kid with me. Would you be kind thus kind enough to watch her while I go do what I came here for?”

“Now that’ll be my pleasure” answered her. “Hey…did you feed her anything this evening?”

“Not really…no” replied Mike tangled.

“Men!” Anna exclaimed in disapproval. “Hey, Ben!” shouted her at the tender. “Go fix me something for this little doll!”

“Coming right up!” the answer came.

“Alright, she’s covered now, McCabe.”

“Good” said him looking at the clock. “I have to go get ready for the fight.” He leaned a bit towards his daughter and gave her a small forehead kiss. “You be good now, Victoria. Stay here with this nice lady. Daddy’s got something to do. Ok?”

The little girl posed discontented and somehow frightened by the idea of losing him from her sight, but then the food came and she just started to eat slowly.

“Don’t let her out of your sight!” shouted Mike last at Anna as he was swallowed by the crowd.

“Don’t worry…” she replied “…I won’t!” Her voice appeared somehow strange, but McCabe didn’t pay attention.


Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-22-2009 15:25

*locker room*

The restaurant had a main lounge with a free space right in the middle that served as dance floor and a ring. Apparently McKinley, the manager and owner of the establishment, used to be a boxer in his early years and even a good one at that. He actually got a shot to the title, but just a week before the fight he got himself into a car crash and lost one of his legs. Obviously his boxing carrier ended, but he had already managed to put aside some cash for rainy days, so he used it to open a bar. Since his passion for boxing didn’t die along with his chances of becoming a champion, he decided to mix his business with occasional prize fights and prepared everything necessary for it.

In the back of the establishment there were arranged some locker rooms. Mike found a free one and changed, then started to throw punches in front of the mirror in order to warm up and check his moves. He noticed thus that it came to him quite natural to move around like a boxer.

“Who knows…” he mumbled “…I might’ve done this before…”

A squeaky voice startled him from his thoughts.

“McCabe, you go on in 5 minutes.”

He turned around to see a small man with a mouse face sticking his head through the half open door. The fellow then stepped in the room, carrying a towel on his shoulder and a bucket of water.

“I’ll be in your corner tonight. Say…how should we introduce you?”

“What do you mean? My name is Mike McCabe.”

“Nah…it ain’t strong enough. We’ll call you…’Bulldog’” said the man, leaning a bit and looking on Mike’s back.

McCabe turned to the mirror and checked his back, noticing something that he didn’t see before. Somewhere between his shoulders there was a big tattoo - a bulldog head and underneath it there was a written word: ‘BULLDOG’.

“I guess I wasn’t really a guy with a lot of imagination…” mumbled him.


Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-22-2009 15:26

*back in the main lounge, organized as a ring now - 23:00hr*

“Remember: you don’t get the rest of the dough if you don’t last at least 3 rounds” said ‘mouse face’ as McCabe got into the ring.

Mike took a look at his opponent. He was ‘the favorite’ of the place, a guy about the same height as him, but weighting visibly more. He had a short haircut, military style, big chest, slow feet and mean looking face.

The referee made both of them a sign and they advanced into the middle. As Mike was calm, the other one was not and he puffed air though his nose as if he was about to blow in fury.

“Alright fellows, we play by the usual rules: no biting, no elbows, no head kicking and no hitting below the belt! If I raise my hand you stop punching, ok? Now let’s have a nice fight tonight. Break! Go back to your corners.”

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-22-2009 15:26

*round 1*

Just before the gong sounded, Mike thought he just saw for a second the big bald sailor from the restaurant that day. The ‘Hurricane’ that was approaching though brought back his attention to the fight.

The big guy apparently wanted to finish the match fast. He started landing heavy blows towards Mike’s head and body, who found himself just defending and being pushed into the ropes. He was a little startled by this furious start and tried to duck and block the hits. He attempted to throw himself a couple of punches, but he felt like hitting a rock. The big guy looked as if nothing could bend him.

After the first 2 minutes McCabe’s face was already showing the marks of the hits he received: his eyebrow cut had gotten open and also his upper lip swollen. He didn’t seem to mind though, showing he was quite capable to cash a punch and stand his ground.

Until the end of the round, the game continued in the ring just as before: a cat and mouse run. McCabe had managed though to not get himself trapped into a corner.

The gong came and they split. Mike sat down on the chair in his corner as ‘mouse face’ poured water on his head.

“You know…” he mocked Mike “…if you wanna beat him, it might not hurt to actually hit him once in a while…”

McCabe pushed him away annoyed as the gong sounded the next round.

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-22-2009 15:27

*round 2*

The ‘Hurricane’ attempted the same rain of punches, but he had gotten obviously tired. Mike noticed that his blows were slower and also that he started now to mostly hit with his left hand. He figured fast that if he could last a couple of rounds more, he might actually get a chance to nail the big guy to the floor. He thus continued to play catch, cashing still though from time to time a couple of strong hits straight in the face.

Just as the round was about to finish, Mike noticed ‘mouse face’ was making some kind of signs towards someone. Looking in the direction he was startled to see the sailor from before.

His lack of focus for a moment was suddenly exploited by his furious opponent as he applied Mike a strong uppercut that threw him right into a corner, hitting the pole hard with his back. Another rain of furious punches followed onto McCabe’s head, who was now actually dizzy because of the first one.

Realizing he had to do something before he would drop on the floor, Mike crouched a bit and the forced swiftly his head straight into his opponent’s face. He didn’t realized it but he did it the way that many boxers do in order not to be so obvious and yet to have effect.

Fortunately for him, it worked. The big guy’s nose started bleeding hard and he took a step back. The gong finally announced the end of round 2.

“Who was that?” asked Mike upon taking a seat again in his corner.

“Who?” ‘Mouse face’ kept pressing the wet towel on his face.

“The man you…exchanged a couple of looks with. Tall, large, bold, sailor coat.”

“Those hits you took must’ve got to your brain. I don’t know what you’re talking about, lad.”

The gong interrupted them, announcing the next round.

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-22-2009 15:28

*round 3*

Mike now got up convinced that there was something wrong about that man and the one in his corner. He thus decided to finish the fight.

The big guy, his opponent, looked now to be almost worn off with all the effort that he made in the first rounds. Mike jumped on him and started to poor punches, aiming to hit his weaker points. Advancing step by step he quickly managed to trap the guy into a corner. His punches started dropping combinations as a professional fighter would make.

The ‘Hurricane’ was not defending well. He tried a straight, but Mike avoided it and forced a hook right in his ribs. A cracking noise showed he hit bone…and hit it quite hard for that matter.

The big guy crouched a little on the side upon that hit, leaving his chin uncovered. Mike saw that and in the next moment landed an uppercut on it with his full power. The ‘Hurricane’ started to crumble.

McCabe was ready for the final blow. He raised his right, pulled air in his chest, but just as he was about to hit, his vision suddenly got blurry. He blinked fast and attempted to focus, but he started to feel losing control. He took a step back trying to maintain his balance and felt the referee’s hand on his arm.

The last thing he remembered before everything got black was just the wooden floor approaching fast his face.


Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-22-2009 15:29

*Brighton - 38 Edward Street - same night - about 3 hours later*

“How much did you give him, Gus?”

“Oh…I don’t know…I put a bit in the bucket from the beginning, but it didn’t do any good, so…I kinda’…poured the whole bottle after the second round.”

“You nuts!?! That can kill a freaking horse! No wonder he’s still not up!”

Mike heard the voices as if in a dream, yet he realized he was awake. The first voice was a woman…sounded a lot like Anna. The second one was definitely ‘mouse face’.

McCabe tried to open his eyes but realized his eyelids felt as if someone had poured lead onto them. He tried to move…to no avail unfortunately. He then realized that he was tied up…hanging by his hands.

He made another effort and this time managed to succeed in cracking open his eyelids. He noticed he was in a basement…and even more, it looked a lot like the one he just visited earlier in the day.

He moved his head a bit to look around and found out his assumption was not wrong: the body of the dead guy that he found was lying now down on the floor and…he was hung in its former position.

A strong headache was blowing out in his skull. He blinked a couple of times fast in an attempt to shake it off a little.

“Oh, look…he’s up” came Anna’s voice as she stepped forward from the shadows. A single light was lit and hanging on above Mike’s head.

“Now what the hell is th…”

“Enough of this!” she cut his words. “It’s time to drop the act, sugar: who are you?”

“Arggggh…I told you already…my name is Mike McCabe…untie me!”

At that a large shade stepped out of the shadows and pushed Anna away, assuming a position in front of Mike and looking straight into his eyes. It was the big sailor McCabe had seen all day. He lifted his chin slightly and lit himself a large cigar, then said in a grotesque and growling voice:

“Wrong, lad…’I’…am Michael McCabe!”

Clift Garrett
Clift Garrett

Mar-23-2009 05:35

** Meanwhile back in London, Bayswater area, 22:00 p.m.**

"This is truly a late dinner, Clift.” Mak was saying. “It is almost 10 o’clock and we’re not seated yet.”

Clift looked around.

The restaurant was packed with guests and tourists from all walks of life. It was a very high end restaurant. Clift had started affording a lot more when he began freelancing as a detective.

“Here comes our waiter, sweets.” Clift smiled as their waiter came over and seated them in a nice little table in the corner. “I’ll have the usual.” Clift said, and “So will the pretty lady.”

Mak blushed. “Clift, please stop. We’re not in our twenties anymore.”

Clift realised that was true.

Violet Parr, the seemingly ever young elegant detective was starting to show signs of age. The last time he saw her with Mak at the cafe her face looked some years older, her makeup was heavier and he could detect that her very slim figure had slightly filled up underneath the layers of clothing.

Mak on the other hand had managed to escape her age better. She must be taking more care of herself than Violet is. That must be easier with one child... and a child a responsible and well-behaved as Cody James at that... whereas Violet had Isabella Vivienne to deal with. Clift wondered if he looked older and asked Mak. “Do I look older? Mak?”

“You look perfect, as always.” She smiled. “You look like a father if that’s what you mean.”

“Well, in one year, I see Violet has grown three years.” Clift pointed out.

“It can’t be easy raising twins, and with her being the perfectionist she is... maintaining appearances can’t be easy too.” Mak smiled politely as the waiter poured her a glass of water.

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