Places Lived Since: She has lived most of her life in London, but has done some travelling.
Current Residence: Hairgney
Nationality: Turkish
Parents: Mehmet & Aysun Demir
Number of Siblings: Four older brothers. But she is the closet with Hasan, the oldest.Â
Relationship With Family: She has always been close with her family, despite how she was thrust into the mob lifestyle at a young age, but she always respected her brother and letting her choose her life. She canât be as close as she would like now, but they would always have each other.Â
Happiest Memory: It was her ninth birthday. She wanted to have a royal party where she was able to dress up as a princess and all her brothers, including Kerem and Berat, they dressed up as princes. There were a couple other girls there, also princesses. They danced, ate cake, and gave her the last year where she was able to be an innocent child, oblivious to what was going on around her. Â
Childhood Trauma: At ten years old her father wanted to bring her into the gang life. He thought the best way to do it was to bring her to one of their holds where they were interrogating a captive and she was made to watch.Â
PHYSICAL:
Height: 5'3
Weight: 125lbs
Build: More on the slender side, but has curves.Â
Hair Color: Dark brown.
Usual Hair Style: Mostly down, but sometimes she puts up in a messy bun.
Eye Color: Brown
Glasses? Contacts?: Neither.
Style of Dress/Typical Outfit(s): She has different styles depending on the situation. At work she is more business minded but when on her own she does like to look stylish going out, trying new blends of clothes. Otherwise, she is dressed more causal in leggings and tee's.
Typical Style of Shoes: She likes all shoes and all her outfits have a pair to match. Shoes are one of her guilty pleasures.
Jewellery? Tattoos? Piercings?: She has her ears pierced and belly button. She also has a tattoo of Beratâs name on her left inner wrist in cursive.Â
Scars:Â One down the the left side of her outer thigh. She got it when she was sixteen.
Unique Mannerisms/Physical Habits: When she gets nervous, Ayda will play with her hair.Â
Athleticism: She is lean and petite. No major muscle development. She likes to run and box, that is what keeps her in shape.Â
Health Problems/Illnesses: None.
INTELLECT:
Level of Education: Some college. She did get her business degree. During her gang life she did night school without many knowing and the last two years when she was opening her bar, she went back to finish it.Â
Languages Spoken: English, Turkish and Russian
Level of Self-Esteem: Not the best at the moment
Gifts/Talents: She can sing.Â
Mathematical?: She is decent enough. Math was a subject she was good in high school.
Makes Decisions Based Mostly On Emotions, or On Logic?: Depends on the situation. She tries to use logic, but sometimes her emotions get the best of her.
Life Philosophy:Â At the moment, it's just to survive and not let the darkness consume her. Hopefully this changes over time and she has a more positive one.
Religious Stance: She doesnât practice, but her family was IslamicÂ
Cautious or Daring?: A bit of both.Â
Most Sensitive About/Vulnerable To:Â Her family being hurt.
Optimist or Pessimist?: Pessimist.
Extrovert or Introvert?: Introvert but was an extrovert.
RELATIONSHIPS:
Current Relationship Status: Single.
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual.
Past Relationships: Ex-boyfriend Berat Yalaz
Primary Reason For Being Broken Up With: She hopes to find out the reasons.
Primary Reasons For Breaking Up With People: She has only ever been in one relationship. It was breaking her daily waiting around for him to come back to her.Â
Ever Cheated?: No.
Been Cheated On: No idea. She would like to believe that when they were at their darkest, he was still faithful to her.
Level of Sexual Experience: She was always up to trying new things.
A Social Person?: She used to be, but not recently.
Most Comfortable Around: Kerem.Â
Oldest Friend: Kerem. There was others, but even though they're still friends, she doesn't fully trust them. Oldest friend is someone she trusts completely.
How Does She Think Others Perceive Her?:Â That she seems happy and her bar is doing better, getting more business over the years.Â
How Do Others Actually Perceive Her?: Hopefully they perceive her the way she thinks they do.
SECRETS:
Life Goals: One is done, open her bar, though it feels half done as she was supposed to open it with someone else. She has always wanted to get married and have a family, though she doesnât know if the latter parts will ever happen in her life time.
Dreams: Dreams are pointless now.
Greatest Fears: It came true
Most Ashamed Of:Â Believing in promises.
Secret Hobbies: Reading trashy smut books
Crimes Committed (Was he caught? Charged?): She wishes not to speak about them. It is not something she is proud of. She was never caught, not that her brother would ever allow that to happen.
DETAILS/QUIRKS:
Night Owl or Early Bird?: Night Owl
Light or Heavy Sleeper?: Light
Favorite Animal: Black Panther
Favorite Foods: Any spicy.
Least Favorite Food:Â
Favorite Book: Trashy smut books, especially those about mafia (go figure), fantasy and reserve harem.
Least Favorite Book: self-help books. They are trash and have no idea what they are talking about.Â
Favorite Movie: The Princess Bride
Least Favorite Movie: The NotebookÂ
Favorite Song: Juicy - Doja Cat
Favorite Sport: BoxingÂ
Coffee or Tea?: Tea
Crunchy or Smooth Peanut Butter?: Smooth
Type of Car He Drives: Blue BMW i4 M50
Lefty or Righty?: Left.
Favorite Color: Purple
Cusser?: If the moment calls for it. A lot of moments call for it.
Smoker? Drinker? Drug User?: No. Heavy drinker. No, she would never touch them. Drugs destroyed the goodness in her life by another.Â
Biggest Regret: Leaving that night.
Pets: None. She is having a hard time taking care of herself, it isnât fair to bring an animal into it.Â
âYou could always take out a loan, might be worth it to avoid the wrong end of a bad date. But cheap does not always mean bad and I suppose expenses are relative. Even for something more transactional, a bit of passion makes all outings better. Especially one on Valentineâs Day, it is almost a requirement, isnât it?â
"It's a tight budget, with the bakery and the bar." A beat. "Plus this campaign, it's a lot." She was staying afloat, even could save some, but she had to be smart with her money. "That's if I even end up with one."
Hasan stifled a laugh.
âBetter than no one bidding at all,â he said. âOr watching it stall at one pound. I think that might be worse. Though perhaps I should be kinder to those working within a budget.â
"I'm sure you came up with a date you are interested in doing, considering expenses are covered." Ayda hoped that her brother allowed him the chance to choose a destination that got him out of the city. "I know I have a tight budget."
There was something about Ayda that Benjamin had been unsure of in the beginning. Maybe it was her morals, or how she upheld them â how she was truly in tune with them and how that could be a downfall for her in the same breath. Morals weren't all that useful in their line of work, and with her floating around, that always left a chance of those morals implicating the Rutherfords.
Close...keep your enemies close. That's what Melissa had said.
But was she an enemy? Benjamin wasn't quite so sure anymore.
"I'm as well as I always am." A cog in the system. "Working, parties, meetings...adulthood. It's never-ending, huh?" laughter slipped out as his shoulders lifted into a makeshift shrug. "So â where are you hoping to jet set off too soon?"
Ayda gave a small nod at each thing he listed that had been keeping him busy. âI do understand that feeling.â A quiet laugh slipped past her lips. There was something about Benjamin, considering their past, the way their lives had tangled together in some twisted way.
âSomething with a little history and adventure,â she said, deciding to take a small step outside her comfort zone. "It's different." A beat. "You men are experiencing how we felt last time. It is nerve wrecking."
Ayda didn't know what to make of her date. They hadn't interacted before, which means it could go any direction. "I thought I would come say hello. It seems I'll be your date."
Benjamin hadn't seen Ayda since the forced date that Melissa had orchestrated. And even if they both could've admitted they'd had a good time, things had been awkward. Still, seeing her didn't deter him from walking over.
"Ayda," Ben greeted, with a bow of his head. "How are you?"
Aydaâs eyes had landed on Ben a few times throughout the night. The last time theyâd spent together had been pleasant, though sheâd felt a shift afterward. In the days that followed, her life had pulled her in every direction - the bar, the bakery, the campaign.
âBen,â she said, a soft smile finding her lips. âIâm good.â And she meant it. âIâm enjoying myself tonight.â A small beat. âHow are you?â
The last of the inventory sheet was checked off as Ayda set the clipboard down, glancing once more along the shelves to make sure everything lined up the way it should. The bar was quiet at this hour. She reached for a cloth, wiping down the counter out of habit more than anything, when the door opened and someone took a seat at the bar.
Her attention shifted easily, expression soft but attentive as she moved to the other side of the counter. âEvening,â Ayda said, setting the cloth aside. âWhat can I get you to drink?â Not recognising him right away.
The days after visiting Beratâs grave, finding Emine there and facing the weight of that new reality, had Ayda throwing herself into staying busy. At least her mornings were spoken for, filled with the familiar routine of baking, hands moving on autopilot.
Her brows knit together as she glanced toward the back door. Anyone coming in this early would have the code.
âHasan?â Her brow lifted slightly when he came into view. âYouâre up early.â
When the Noise Stopped
where: Berat's grave
when: 1st of February, 2026
who: emine & @ayda--demir
Something was wrong. Emine had known it for weeks now, the way one knows a storm should have broken and never did. The vibrations never came, no hum under her skin, no restless pull demanding release. It had been just over a month since Christmas, since Kerem, since the last time the world had gone strangely still around him.
She ended up at her brotherâs grave, settling onto the cold grass with her hands tucked into her coat, breath fogging in the winter air. âI still think about you every day,â she murmured, knowing a part of her had been buried with him. âIt feels wrong being here without you.â The guilt gnawed at her, but beneath it was something newer, panic seeping into her bones.
âIâm pregnant,â she blurted, the words strange and heavy as she heard them aloud for the first time, letting the truth settle.
âYouâre what?â
It took her a few seconds to place the voice before dread set in. Emine lifted her gaze to find Ayda lowering herself to sit beside her.
It wasnât like Emine to hesitate, sheâd always said exactly what was on her mind, but this was different. She thought of her family, of expectations and customs sheâd never quite fit into. âIâm pregnant,â she repeated, her voice steadier this time.
Ayda had never imagined Emine as a mother, not like this, not in the chaos of the borough, not while she still lived on the edge of danger. She had always assumed marriage to Kerem was the path Emine would take, but a child? That had seemed impossible. And yet, here they were, and there was no sense in clinging to what might have been. She reached out, taking Emineâs hand the way she always had, like a sister. âWhoâs the father?â
It had been nearly a year since Emine and Kerem had split, though there were too many nights in between where theyâd fallen back into each otherâs arms. He was everything to her. He always would be. Emine glanced down at their joined hands, letting the contact ground her. âItâs Keremâs.â
Ayda nodded, relief softening her features, even as concern lingered. It was still dangerous, given where Keremâs loyalties lay now. âDoes he know?â she asked gently. He was her best friend, she trusted heâd do right by Emine.
âNo, I havenât told him yet,â Emine admitted quietly. Sheâd only found out a few days ago herself, still trying to wrap her head around the idea that this was even possible. Children had never fit into the future she imagined, especially not now. Everything felt out of place. âI know I have to tell him.â
And yet, it wasnât that simple. She knew it better than anyone. Keremâs alliances had turned everything into a mess of risks and impossible choices, leaving no clear path that didnât cost them something.
âYou should,â Ayda said at last, giving her a moment before continuing. âAnd you know Iâm here for you.â She squeezed Emineâs hand. âYouâre not doing this by yourself.â
Emine let out a slow breath, eyes drifting back to her brotherâs headstone. She wondered what he wouldâve said, whether he wouldâve scolded her or pulled her into a hug and told her theyâd figure it out. Maybe both.
âThank you,â she murmured.
Ayda glanced at her, then toward the path leading away from the graves. âCome on,â she said gently. âLetâs get out of the cold. Weâll go back to the bakery, get you something warm to eat.â
After a final look at her brotherâs grave, Emine nodded and pushed herself to her feet, letting Ayda lead the way.
Benny had been on one of his intellectual talks, as he called them. Which really meant he had about seven pints of Guinness and was ready to talk for an entire night or get into a fight. It was either and neither of the options sounded like a good one.
"Sit the fuck down." He motioned to one of the other lads to actually do that. He;d been talking about how things had been quiet and then somehow the conversation morphed into illuminati.
Ayda made a habit of drifting through different pubs now and then, keeping an eye out for new trends and changes in the scene. She hadnât expected to run into Vidal and it had been far too long since sheâd last seen him.
She came up alongside him, a faint smile pulling at her lips as she took in the situation. âWell,â she said lightly, âthis isnât where I thought Iâd be running into you.â
@mobscene-starters
Location: The Underground. (No, not the fight club part.)
Date: 3/1/26.
Truth be told, she'd been too scared to go out and celebrate New Year.
Just as she hadn't done the year before.
The events that'd unfolded at the Berkeley Estateâchaos and bloodshed the likes of which she had never seen until that nightâstill quietly haunted her after all this time. Nora wasn't built like the others. Her life was spent healing, caring, not fighting brutal and bloodthirsty generational battles. And maybe she was still ignorant to the extent of it after all this time. But maybe it was because she wanted to be.
So, she hadn't gone out for New Year. She'd waited. Until the crowds had died away, until the potential bombshell of creating a mass panic on a public holiday faded into unlikelihood. Eventually, she ventured out into Lara's Hackney club courtesy of a Rutherford invitation and twenty minutes spent sat on her bed convincing herself that everything would be fine. Maybe she'd needed some liquid courage, thoughâsome might argue a little too much.
"Uh, I am absolutely not drunk," she assured the bartender, who seemed amused rather than condemning, to his credit. "I have never been drunk in my life, thank you very much. What an incredulous accusation."
Ayda had never planned on ending up here tonight. This wasnât her usual scene but she had been meant to meet someone. Had gotten dressed, had shown up⊠and then waited. And waited.
So when she caught the exchange at the bar, she couldnât help the small smile that tugged at her lips. She slid onto the neighbouring stool, a glass of wine already in hand.
âIf it helps, you donât look drunk. Just⊠very committed to your argument.â A beat. âAnd I say that as someone who runs a bar.â Her tone soft.
Oscar felt her hand slip into his and something in his chest kicked just a little harder. Her pulse met his palm. Quick. Excited. He didnât call attention to it, but, held her a little more securely. Carefully, he guided her through the crowd with easeâone hand in hers, the other brushing lightly at the small of her back to make sure no one bumped her. The lights strobed, the bass rattled the floor, but it all faded at the edges as he found them a spot with room to move.
When she told him to go easy, Oscar huffed a warm laugh under his breath, "Amiga, I donât throw people into the deep end on the first song," he teased, stepping in front of her, keeping their hands clasped as he leaned down to murmur, "Just keep close and follow my lead," he unclasped one hand that then slid to her waistâsteady, guiding, not demandingâand he drew her closer until their bodies found that first quiet sync, "Iâve got you."
As they settled into the rhythm, Oscar's eyes caught Ayda's. A soft grin curved across his face as he eased them into the first simple step: smooth, natural, letting her feel the beat through him before he asked anything of her, and twirled her out before bringing her back into his arms. Catching her and chuckled softly. Letting his head fall, "Bien..." he whispered, voice low and warm against her ear.
There was a lightness in Ayda she hadnât felt in a long time, an easy, bubbling kind of excitement that loosened the knot in her chest. This was new. Different. For once, she let the noise in her head fade and simply allowed herself to be here, in this moment, with him.
âI can do that,â she whispered back, just loud enough for him to hear over the bass, her steps falling into his without hesitation. The wine had smoothed her nerves, letting her body relax as she tuned into the rhythm and the steady warmth of his hand at her waist.
When he twirled her out and brought her back in, a soft laugh escaped her, and she felt her cheeks warm as he caught her effortlessly. Her gaze lifted to his, eyes shining under the shifting lights.
âYouâre very good at this,â she murmured, a shy smile touching her lips. âIf you keep that up, Iâm going to start thinking you do this every weekend.â
As she settled back into the space he made for her, her free hand found a natural place, resting lightly against his shoulder, fingers brushing against his bare chest, moving to rest on his shoulder. The other remained in his, gentle but secure. She stepped in closer without quite realising it, letting their movements sync.
âAnd here I was worried Iâd slow you down,â she added softly, a playful lilt threading through the words.
He drifted up beside her at the bar, settling an elbow on the counter like heâd just arrived there by accident. His gaze flicked to the untouched club soda in her hand before moving on.
âInteresting choice,â he said, giving her flapper dress a brief once-over. âSubtle, considering the, themes tonight.â
No judgment. No checking in. Just his usual dry calm.
âIâm not asking what youâre wrapped up in,â he added. âIf itâs stupid, youâll tell me later. Or you wonât. Iâve adapted.â
He straightened again, giving her space without actually leaving, present, quietly watchful, pretending not to be.
Ayda never quite knew what version of her brother sheâd get at nights like this, but she had held onto a tiny hope heâd at least try with the costume this year, and, to her surprise, he had. Better than usual, anyway. She knew the strain he carried, the shifting power in their borough only making it heavier, and for a moment she was just grateful heâd shown up at all.
Hearing his voice, she turned toward him, a small smile pulling at her lips as she gave his outfit an approving once-over. âSee? Iâm not the only one blending in tonight,â she teased softly. âI didnât want to stand out too much.â
His dry comment earned a raised brow from her. âAnd what makes you think Iâm wrapped up in anything?â she asked, tone light but edged with curiosity.