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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 15:26

*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.

Clift Garrett
Clift Garrett

Mar-23-2009 05:36

“A bottle of your best wine.” Clift ordered. “Red?” He looked to Mak. She nodded in agreement.

Mak asked Clift. “So you and Violet are not married anymore?”

“Nope.” Clift said. “I am still a father to her daughters... although I can’t seem to get along with Isabella. Thank God Cody can tame her.”

“What do you plan to do now that you’re single?”

“Live the life of adventure again.” Clift smiled.

Mak was not amused by that. “I hope you don’t forget that you are a man with responsibilities now...”

“Of course not.” Clift held her hands. “I am responsible towards you and my boy. I still haven’t really connected with my other children.”

The two were suddenly interrupted as the various delectable dishes of the exotic Indian cuisine started to arrive: Chicken Tikka Masal, Dal Makhani, Murg Prawns, Palak Paneer, Nan Bread & Palau Rice.

They were silently but vigorously eating for a while.

“Try the chicken Mak, and the spinach and cheese dish is heavenly as well.”

“I can’t eat all that Clift.”

“Well you’re gonna have to. We haven’t had a quiet night in the longest time.”

Mak reflected on her relationship with Clift from the moment she met him until this present day. Their relationship was nothing but unusual and the circumstances it was surrounded with were both risky and unpredictable to say the least.

She smiled and looked to his eyes. “I am happy we’re doing this. I am happy we’re still friends and that you are doing your part in raising Cody.”

Clift smiled. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-24-2009 15:53

*back in Brighton, 38 Edward Street*

Mike looked at the man standing in front of him with genuine surprise in his eyes. His one and only knowledge that could’ve somehow linked him to his past was now shattered to pieces.

“That cannot be…” he mumbled. “Then…who the hell am I?”

“Exactly what I want to know” replied the sailor man. “Who are you, what’s your business here and why are you using my name?”

“Well…that makes two of us. You see…I have a small memory problem…I really can’t remember who I am and I was kinda’ hoping I was…you.”

The sailor burst into a mad man’s laughter and the suddenly stopped. He eyed Bane with an ugly look.

“Ok now, mate…you made me laugh…” He started to take off his coat. “I must admit you have imagination.” He rolled his sleeves up and unbuttoned its top part. “That won’t stop me from killing you nevertheless.” He placed his sailor cap over his coat, on a nearby chair. “I’ll tell you what ‘I’ think you are: I think you are a Bobbie just like the former occupant of your position.” He picked an iron bar and pointed towards the body on the floor. “I also ‘think’ that if you’ll give me a straight answer and make it fast I’ll…’grant’ you a fast death. And now, to prove I DO mean business…”

He swiftly raised the iron bar and forged it straight in Joey’s ribs, making a clear cracking sound as it landed onto his naked torso. Bane growled in deep pain…The play started.


Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-24-2009 15:53

*2 hours later*

Bane’s body was now full of cuts and bruises from the beating. His face was blooded and…remodeled beyond recognition. He had passed out a couple of times and was brought back into the now painful reality with a bucket of water. The fact that he stuck with his story did not seem to be any help. The problem was that, obviously, he didn’t have another one to tell.

Noticing that he was about to lose his consciousness again, McCabe…the real one…picked up the bucket once again and splashed cold water on his face. Bane shook his head and spit blood, cursing. McCabe looked at him disappointed.

Just as he raised his hand to hit again, Anna’s voice interrupted him.

“Hey, Mike…I’ve never seen any man capable to last so long to your interrogation methods up to now. I’m thinking…maybe…he’s telling the truth. I’m also thinking he won’t make it through the next half hour so…”

McCabe stopped and let drop the hand holding the iron bar. “You may be right…” he answered thinking. “There’s one thing though I haven’t tried: his daughter. Where is she?”

Joey’s eyes widened upon hearing this. Anna the answered in a startled voice: “She’s here…but what are you…NO! I’m not letting you touch her, Mike!”

McCabe pushed her away with fury and then picked up the child from somewhere in the shadows. He brought her up in front of Bane and then took out a switch blade, pressing it on her neck.

“Alright, tough guy…you may have enough strength and guts in order to resist to torture, but let’s see how you feel about her throat getting wide open by my hand…” He grinned. His eyes showed clearly he was not joking.

Bane shook his body wildly in an attempt to free himself by force…to no avail, obviously. He growld then: “You son of a…”

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-24-2009 15:55

“Mike, hold it!” interrupted ‘mouse face’, who then stepped in the middle of the room holding a paper in his hand. “Look here…Joseph Bane. It kinda’ looks like him, don’t it? Says here he’s a suspect in murder. Three bodies in a blown up house…all three Ville brothers, it appears.”

McCabe stopped and quickly grabbed the newspaper. “I never liked the Villes. You say they’re dead? Where did you get this paper, anyway?”

“London. I was there this morning. I do remember also that Tom from the pub near the train station told me a little strange story about some American he fixed a job for and then he appeared next morning with a little girl dressed in purple. Kinda’ fits this guy’s description, doesn’t it?”

McCabe thoroughly read the article and then studied the portrait on the side. “Doesn’t say anything about a little girl and…this picture doesn’t seem to look like him…”

“I don’t think even ‘he’ looks like himself after your methods of interrogation” came Anna’s voice from the behind. “Let me see that…hmmm…yeah, it could be him.”

“You sure about this, woman?”

“I’m positive, yeah” confirmed Anna. “So…Mike…I’m thinking…we may use this guy…”

McCabe didn’t appear to be very convinced, but he decided to listen to her.

“Okay. Speak up. Let’s hear it then!”

Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Mar-24-2009 15:56

“Well now…” she started “…this here…” pointed at the paper “…shows that he may not be indeed a cop. Even more, it shows that the police would be more than happy to get their hands on him, with or without your name.”

McCabe was not a patient man. “Where are you getting at with this?”

“You’ve been so much away on sea that nobody remembers how you look. If this guy is indeed amnesic, we might present him to the cops as you. They link him to the London murder and they’ll just assume he used a different name before he lost his memory.”

“Ok…I like this girl. Good thinking!” McCabe turned then towards Bane, grinning. “And what I like more is that we can present him also as a stiff.”

“Don’t be in such a rush to kill him. There’s more that we could do with him.”

Michael now turned towards the woman with an annoyed look in his eyes. “What more? Stop messing with my temper!”

“Well…” she continued “…we still have a problem. The cops may know about your shipment, so I say…why not let him do it? He could deliver the ‘goods’ for us and bring back the dough while we keep his daughter an insurance. If the deal will prove to be a trap, they’ll bust him thinking he’s you and we’re out in the blue.”

McCabe thought for a moment. “That’s mighty good plan. You never seize to amaze me, gal.”

He turned then towards Joey. “Ok now Mister…” checks the paper “…Bane. We’ll have a little job together. But until then…” he raised his hand to strike again “…LIGHTS OUT!”

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