𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠,

i believe that's why i'm running. jamie zaal, gabriel pereira, deacon rose, valentine alexander as penned by zed

[excessfm]

      𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫,

dr. jamie zaal (michiel huisman), 42. the hands (cleaner).

intro.

gabriel pereira (edgar ramirez), 45. the takers (second in command).

intro.

deacon rose (william moseley), 35. civilian (technical specialist).

intro.

valentine alexander (keanu reeves), 55. the narcos (advisor).

intro.

[tomshiddles]

Tom Hiddleston - Gentleman’s Journal (Summer 2022)

[excessfm]

reaporter​:

        THE  DULL  SIDE  OF  A  SWORD  CAN  STILL  DRAW  BLOOD.  we  are  different  but  one  of  the  same.  anyone  tentative  enough  could  see  it,  oh  how  they  clung  to  these  necessary  evils.  power  within  her  chosen  field  had  become  paradoxid,  how  could  you  wield  the  power  to  destroy  when  you  had  only  sought  to  enlighten.  she’d  martyr  herself,  once,  twice,  maybe  three  times  if  it  had  meant  real  change.  importance  once  relied  on  crisis  had  had  shifted  focus.  here,  beneath  this  wafting  limelight,  celine  had  taken  the  power  for  herself.  she  was  the  face  of  her  own  pyre  awaiting  combustion.  a  woman  ablaze.

        “  that’s  not  so  bad,  ”  may  we  get  what  we  want,  but  never  what  we  deserve.  though  this  sentiment  was  no  olive  branch  extended  to  the  majority.  this  absolving  were  meant  to  be  kept  sacred.  the  dame  adjoins  the  invitation  for  laughter,  a  short  chuckle  following.  “  you’d  be  doing  a  quarter  of  london’s  population  a  favor.  ”  such  treason  was  tantamount  to  death  either  way  you  spun  it.  a  career  in  exchange  for  a  life  —  for  better  or  for  worse.  either  way  there  would  be  a  sacrifice  of  blood  and  celine  was  more  than  willing  to  tinge  herself  with  ichor  not  of  her  own  if  it  meant  success.  the  political  word  had  become  spectral,  a  constant  shedding  of  skins  and  an  exchange  of  notions  to  appease  masses.  instead  of  shedding  this  skin,  she  made  it  her  home.          wine - soaked  grin  kisses  the  rim  of  the  glass,  gaze  through  her  brow  distorted  by  the  crystalline  glare  of  the  glass.  “  people  are  drawn  to  demonstrations  of  questionable  intellectual  ability  —  it  gives  the  general  populous  something  to  relate  to.  ”  politics  bridled  most  aspects  of  modern  life,  and  the  elitism  of  it  all  was  far  less  admired.  give  the  people  someone  they  can  relate  to.  “  one  minute  you’re  putting  your  foot  in  your  mouth,  and  the  next,  you’re  the  party  hero.  confidence,  no  matter  how  moronic  you  might  be,  is  convincing.  ”  to  gain  power,  you  had  to  be  the  walking  embodiment  of  the  power  laid  at  your  feet.  all  for  the  sake  of  appearances,  or  rather,  their  upkeep.  every  inch  of  her  countenance  had  been  carefully  dialed  and  tailored  to  suit  her  image.  a  catalyst  in  vintage  louboutins.  “  and  people  will  believe  anything  if  you  say  it  with  enough  conviction.  ”  rounded  gaze  follows  his  opposite  gesture,  god’s  perched  atop  of  their  own  personal  mt.  olympus.  perhaps  more  alike  than  dissimilar,  “  well,  we’re  here  aren’t  we?  outwardly,  we’re  just  another  one  of  london’s  society  cretins.  ”  of  all  of  the  splashy,  over  priced  establishments  in  london,  they  were  here  —  mingling  amid  the  unknowing  elite.  she  was a  woman  made  of  falsehoods,  but  still,  the  dame  was  a  king  in  a  court  of  liars.

@excessfm​

-

      “ there’s a problem with doing favors, ” he couldn’t help but let his eyes stray to the unwitting guests of the restaurant during their conversation. it was easy to peer at the dining individuals, completely ignorant to the existence of two people speaking of them as if they were little better than shit on a shoe, as if he were at a zoo exhibit. look at how they graze, look at how they socialize. it was twisted. “ people either begin to expect the charity, or you’re taken advantage of for your kindness. i’m not such a kind man. ” jamie was almost certain that celine knew that part of him, by now. even if he didn’t choose to reveal the full depth of his damage, it was obvious that charity was not a virtue present in his body. not without an end supporting himself, in some fashion. if jamie zaal gave, it was because he got something out of it.

      her comment drew his gaze back. jamie even pointed in her direction to punctuate her statement ---obvious he agreed with her. “ people like to believe they are more intelligent than they actually are, and they like to open their mouths and spew on about it. the dumbest individuals are the loudest. ” evident in his peer professors, especially those that spent lifetimes publishing thesis papers that were disproven within the decade. it always made him laugh to see someone’s life passions discredited. it was better not to believe in anything outlandish, or at least to spend the rest of their lives practicing losing with grace and accepting that the academic field would forever recognize them as inept. “ alcohol helps that. ” 

      liquid courage. he’d seen more than his fair share of people drink up before spewing themselves to a crowd. that was the comical link of similarity there ---dumb or drunk, they were both louder. “ outwardly we can be whatever we want to be. it’s better to blend in, to be someone people can scoff at the finer details but never remember the face, when needed. much better than showing a full hand. ” though he imagined their respective full hands were vastly different. whether or not celine was involved with an organization was not jamie’s business ---just like his involvement with the hands was not hers. they’d shown one-another their relative damage, that they both wore carefully crafted masks amid the masses, but neither had clued the other in on just how deep the cracks beneath went. his were from birth, wires connected incorrectly, making him incapable of feeling things the way someone should. or perhaps made him feel them the wrong way. he wasn’t sure what hers was.

      but that was the glory in the two sharing one-another’s company ---it didn’t matter. they didn’t ask. they didn’t expect an answer. they just put the rest of the world down for their ignoramity.

[excessfm]

nctoricus·:

The questions that Gabriel started spewing out left Milena in silence as she took her time processing it. With both their mindsets, it was like the cogs and gears were turning itself to power up a device. Thinking ahead was required in their line of work as it covered all bases that they needed to look at. Because there were many groups involved, their actions and decisions were like a domino effect, impacting those that are associated, as well as outside factors such as civilians or other businesses for example. 

“Right…” she softly replied while finishing up her drink. Dragging the plastic cup across the table to set it down, the CEO tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and sat up straight. “I want more time to pass before making our move.” she declared. “And with that being said, we could use that time to gather the information we needed. Without a doubt, The Hands probably have a lead in mind, they own part of the tabloids after all…Unless they come up empty, then that’s a fucking shame. Now who would be causing the fights? Don’t know if it’s obvious to put it on either The Hands or The Wilds due to the TYPE of members they have…” It was a start to assume such things, but what Milena found conflicting was that it was too apparent. Their respective heads wouldn’t be that reckless…Would they?

“Those are just my hypotheses for the time being…Feel free to disagree otherwise.” Milena valued Gabriel’s knowledge and would be open to any sort of information or suggestions he may have. “We will be ready.” she stated confidently. Manifest it into existence, right? Everyone on her side needed to pull their weight. “So we invest in informants to gather the information we need. However, they would need to be thoroughly vetted. I can’t afford another mole in this goddamn group.” Her father was a clear example of that. “They fuck up, they’re dead Gabriel. They’re simply leveraged.” She didn’t care about their backstory at that point. The term ‘snitches get stitches’ were true to its words as the individual would figuratively get more than stitches. She didn’t give them the option, to her immediate death and elimination of the burden was necessary. “Good point.” It was dangerous and they could potentially lose it all if they weren’t careful. However, Milena refused to have that outcome. She will do any means necessary to remain comfortably at the top. Sighing heavily, she nodded and said, “Our meetings will be frequent then and we need to have clear lines of communications amongst our group. Loyalty is crucial at this time.”  // @excessfm··

-

      “ i’ll open up the option to speak with someone in a position of power with the hands, bearing in mind they’re likely to lie if they are involved. approaching it from a more passive standpoint is smarter. if they see we’re initially non-aggressive they might be more amicable to worthwhile conversation. or else, they’ll make the mistake in thinking we’re not worth their time ... or weak. ” the smirk that spread across gabriel’s face at the notion was nothing short of wicked, though disappeared quickly once he swallowed another mouthful of coffee. he liked a long con. he liked people assuming that the takers weren’t capable of handling their shit. those underestimated always had an upper hand. 

      fingers mindlessly drummed against the coffee cup, an empty thud following in rhythmic pattern for how much air occupied the vessel now. “ i wouldn’t discredit the narcos. i don’t trust anyone in that organization not to dip into their own stock and act rashly. and while that leaves the silencers as the odd dog without a notion, i’d keep an eye on them, too. i hope you have eight eyes today, milena. you’re going to need them. ” she at least had four ---her own pair and his, and that seemed like enough to cover their bases outside of the takers. and yet gabriel wasn’t completely settled on the idea that someone within their own organization hadn’t acted out of turn. “ i’ll start wheedling through our own, as well. i’d rather handle someone stepping out of place directly and swiftly than let them think that behavior is tolerated. or that they can get away with it. ”

      it wouldn’t be the first time that gabriel had ended a life for the takers. it wouldn’t be the last, either. he slept pretty well at night. “ first step ---look through our own, make sure they’re clean, and send them into the other organizations for information. i’d also look into an amicable meeting with the hands and the wilds, if they’re who you suspect first. somewhere neutral, somewhere there can be eyes and trusted ears on your safety. we can come to more secure decisions after that ... whether they can be believed, trusted, or if they’re feeding bullshit. but we need to make sure we didn’t have anything at all to do with this before we walk in there. i’d rather not lie about our own and point fingers to start prodding hornet’s nests if we’re the cause for it. ”

[excessfm]

damnedfm​:

Lars smiled and motioned for him to follow him towards his office. “It’s no problem at all.” He told him. The man pointed towards the coffee machine. “Can I get you a coffee, Mr. Pereira?” He asked politely.

The designer wanted a new cup so he wandered quietly over to the cupboard and grabbed a mug and picked up the pot. He nodded and placed a hand on his hip. “So uh, what kind of revamp were you thinking?” Lars asked, picking up the mug and taking a small sip. 

He wasn’t really sure he liked the idea of people in other organizations knowing who he was. That meant they usually dug into the past and Lars wanted to keep that part of his life out of London. Especially his old career. 

He took another sip of his coffee before offering the other man his full attention. He mumbled a little bit before shrugging. “Alright, alright. Why don’t we go talk in my office.” Lars told him. He glanced around and noticed a few other employee’s hanging around. “Considering there are some people around here that don’t have proper manners.” Lars rolled his eyes and picked up his mug and turned towards the direction of his office so Gabriel could follow him. 

( @excessfm​ ) 

-

      “ no, thank you. i’m afraid i’d get jittery. ” a morning triple-shot of espresso would do that, but it wouldn’t be the first time gabriel overloaded himself on caffeine to make it through the work day. let it better serve as something on home turf. he followed the young man fluidly ---malleable like a river following the bends in the earth, and kept himself quiet until they were within the confines of his office. he seemed jittery ... as if he shouldn’t have had another cup of coffee. that was neither here nor there.

      “ prime financial has been hovering around the same aesthetic for somewhere near ten years. each overhaul stick to the feel of the predecessor. it’s boring, frankly. ” he was tired of the nearly times new roman font that hung over the reception desk at the front lobby every time he entered. “ it wouldn’t be professional to shift to something entirely wacky, but an overhaul is very needed. something still tasteful, but entirely different from the many, many years that came before this one. and all of my designers seem to be afraid to break the mold. ”

      gabriel helped himself to one of the seat across from the desk, even gently set the portfolio of examples onto the desk and gestured toward it. “ i compiled images of all of the company’s previous logos and aesthetics, starting from the beginning. you’ll notice the trend of yawn-inducing boredom after the first change. and that’s where i’m hoping you can assist. ”

[excessfm]

rcklssfm​:

Augustus wasn’t too focused on following the story in hopes of figuring out who was the player and who was being played. What it looked like was that the man was assuming he was the player, but for all they knew, it was the bartender who held the real control. She had the million dollar smile and by the way she arched her back to show off the slit in her shirt, she knew what she was going. “I’d say she’s giving him a good run for his money. If I had to bet, and sometimes I’m a betting man, someone is leaving here disappointed.” Whether it was her because of the unexpectedly low tip or him because he wasn’t getting what he really wanted. It didn’t seem to matter much now that Gus had helped himself and had helped Jamie too. As long as no one interrupted that, the story could go on and he’d wish the best for the both of them.

“I think I read somewhere once that you can manifest anything.” If Jamie wanted to believe that his luck could bleed into the aspects of life, all he had to do was think about it. That was the blindly positive way of thinking that Gus liked to convince himself that he was capable of. He wasn’t, but he could pretend. “Might have been bullshit.” Then again, maybe it was about being the peacock in life; putting on a show that no one could decipher from truth or not. If he wanted to radiate happiness? Smile bigger. If he wanted a lead on what had unfolded at the nightclub? Maybe he needed to act like he already knew.

“If I say yes, would you believe that it was usually for a good cause?” His bottle swiping days had started a few years before he was legally allowed to drink. He’d just moved back to the States and twenty-one was a steep number for someone who’d just turned eighteen. “Now the question on whether or I not I usually share… not so much, but you seem like a cool guy and I’m trying this new thing where I go for good karma.”

-

      “ probably the patron. it’s a bartender’s job to flirt for tips. there’s likely a wedding ring stowed away in a pocket, or in her hand bag safe from sight. ” he’d watched too many men make a fool of themselves over a pretty bartender in his day. and he could admit that she was a nice-looking woman. nobody he’d be interested in spending the night with, but the appeal was there and understood. jamie let his gaze linger on the scene for a moment longer - as if he were dissecting it, taking a look inside at the churning cogs and gear and making a most informed decision o how their little tale would end. it wouldn’t take someone with such a detailed eye to know the answer to that ... but in the rare instances it was fun to pretend. he spent his life pretending. it was fun to pretend something to meaningless. there, better.

      “ imagine how different the world would be if you could simply manifest your wants and desires on a whim? i think i’d have a beautiful wife and an aston martin already. ” half true. no wife (he didn’t want one), but the aston martin was comfortably tucked in his garage. it was fun to give little lies. “ how many people would drop dead of cardiac arrest at a moment’s notice. it’d be chaos. ” he’d save the cleaning for his hands, though. there was something deeply satisfying about his work that, even if he could, he wouldn’t wish the chore of it away.

      chin came to rest in the palm of a free hand. his eyes even crinkled a little bit ---the illusion that the smile had reached them, enough to exaggerate the lines that formed at the corners with age. “ i’d believe it. i’d make the narrative that you swiped food to feed the poor and assume you were some vigilante saint. ” he chuckled softly, something almost under his breath but enough to shake his shoulders in slight. “ if you take that earlier statement about manifesting good things and apply it to karma ---there’s people who sincerely believe that if you do good, good will come back. that’s probably a safer bet than wishing for wealth or love. we’ll say you’ve spread good karma tonight and break even, hm? ”

[excessfm]

esmeray-demirci​:

Esme was born as thunderous as she lived, a complicated child from birth who grew up feeling a rush whenever she fought, whenever she pulled off something she was told she couldn’t or shouldn’t, whenever she drove too fast, or slipped between the bodies at a club. She loved to participate in all the adrenaline pumping chaos life had to offer, lapping up each and every oppurtunity like it was the oxygen needed to live. Second to partcipation was spectation. Esme loved to watch. Fighting was her ballet, to the untrained eye the whole ordeal could seem barbaric, chaotic, senseless. But Esme saw the value in a good fight, the artistry in a fighter who knew how to use their body and manipulate the moves of their opponent to secure a win. Something about it made her heart race, excitement coursing through her and causing the usually stoic woman to cheer along with the humming energy that could be felt like electricity all around them.

Esmeray used to stick around when her ex was in the ring, when he liked to show her off like the trophy he won, the consolation for his busted knuckles. Now she liked to dip out after the adrenaline begun to die down, not out of any sort of fear but knowing that if by chance she saw the man who caused so much trouble in her life she might deck him. However, tonight a reason for lingering found her. Leaning back she regarded him slowly, blowing out a breath as she took in his appearance. She thought about it all the time, “My job requires me face to not get fucked up.” She replied circling the question rather than giving a direct response. Esmeray shrugged, “A little of both I s'pose.” Her eyes moved around the room as a precaution before landing back on his face. “How does anyone end up here- how did you end up here?” She asked finding herself honestly curious rather than just passing the time with senseless questions.

-

      “ yeah, so does mine. ” deacon showed up to work more often than not with bruises blossoming his cheekbones, or lining his jaw, from stray fists that made connection. there were a few times that he’d been confronted by someone at prime financial regarding the matter - but at the end of the day he didn’t see clients, he saw his team members and the people higher up the food chain than himself. there was little they could do if they believed he was being jumped between work and home ---and deacon never admitted to his extracurricular activity otherwise. it was a juxtaposition that always made him chuckle when he glanced at the mirror monday morning: the prim and proper appearance of a young british man scuffed by the angry deep purple of a healing bruise. it cut the impression in half, really.

      deacon shifted to rest the towel over his shoulder, the inklings of soreness beginning to prop itself into his body now that the adrenaline was waning. thankfully he didn’t think there was anything above the neck this time that would raise unspoken questions among his colleagues, but he wouldn’t know until he got home and inspected. for now it was a pleasant sort of exhaustion that let him know he’d sleep well that night. “ some people are angry, i suppose. it’s better than going to jail starting street fights. ” his own eyes shifted to one or two people in the room, already dappled with sweat from their rounds in the ring or anxiously shifting awaiting their turn. when his gaze returned back to the woman it was somewhere near her eyes before dropping to her lips once again, “ i’m a member of the gym. and i wanted to take out some stress. ” 

      he shrugged slightly ---it was a half-truth, at least. he’d become aware of the organization that owned the gym relatively quickly when he’d been approached one or two times to join them, in so many words. (never an outright offer). politely he declined, or played dumb, and instead continued showing up to either kick ass or get his shit kicked in. it was nice, with no strings attached like that. “ maybe everyone who fights is a little broken. ”

[excessfm]

      location: the lanesborough.       when: after noon.       who: valentine alexander & open ( @dividestarters​ ).

      it was not a common occurrence for a fight to break out on the grounds of the hotel, but it wasn’t impossible either. often times it centered around the prim and elite scuffling over nonsense, arguments that valentine couldn’t point a finger to for reason beyond dull boredom, but it was never his interest to know beyond that. rarely the phone of his office would ring and he’d be summoned down to the lobby, and rarely he would assist the day or night manager in breaking up the scuffle.

      today had been one of those days. the most he could glean was that the hotel had been a grounds for a confrontation of an affair (and he knew better than to imagine his rooms weren’t used for things of an intimate or secretive nature) that had gone more violent than not. when the brawlers were being escorted out he turned his attention to one of the bodies nearest himself and put on his most polite persona. “ apologies for the disturbance. it seems we had some unplanned entertainment. allow me to invite you to the tea room to relax. ” ---after all, the lanesborough was known for lavish tea parties.

[jynerso]

édgar ramírez as luis rojas ↳ the 355 (2022)

[excessfm]

( keanu reeves , 55 , cis man , he/his ) wait , did you just see who got off the london eye? i swear , it was VALENTINE ALEXANDER. how do you not know them? i hear they roll with the NARCOS as an ADVISOR but what can you believe these days. most know them as an OWNER at LANESBOROUGH HOTEL with a reputation of being PROFESSIONAL + TWO-FACED. i guess we’ll find out who they really are and why they hum the lyrics to CONTROL by LONDON GRAMMER in public soon enough.

— BASICS —

Name: Valentine Armand Alexander III. Age / D.O.B.: 55, August 1, 1967. Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Cis Man, He/His, Heterosexual. Hometown: London, England. Affiliation: The Narcos. Job position: Advisor for The Narcos, Owner & Heir of The Lanesborough Hotel. Education: Master’s in Art History. Relationship status: Divorced. Children:  None. Positive traits: Confident, eloquent, professional, steadfast, thorough. Negative traits: Coarse, haughty, insincere, secretive, two-faced.

— BIOGRAPHY —

Everything Valentine could have ever wanted was handed to him on a silver platter from the moment he was born. The only child of Valentine Armand Alexander II and Cecilia Elise Alexander née Dupont, the fortune of the landmark Lanesborough Hotel was always lined up for Valentine to inherit. The caveat was the small price of his soul.

Every single part of his life was structured, from the moments he woke up to the moments he slept and every single thing in between. Privacy was earned, not a right given, and Valentine was often toted as if he were an accessory more than a child. To his mother he was nothing more than a pet - referred to and treated as such. His father set rigid expectations that were enforced cruelly. Met goals were barely noticed while failure was harshly punished.

It made not for a good adult - at least not a stable one capable of trust and basic human affection. Valentine grew up to be the echo of both parents, a good combination of their worst qualities wrapped up in a handsome face and garnished with more money than he knew what to do with. Private schools, family trips around the world for a weekend getaway ... everything that people on the outside presumed to be glamorous. Inwardly it was hell, but he bore it in stoic silence.

His University degree was largely for show - something of a conversational starter at the lavish parties his family threw at their hotel or in their home. And over time they were conversational starters for his parties. Valentine formally inherited the Lanesborough at 30 - a public affair, widely publicized.

His business with The Narcos, however, began 5 years prior to that. Introductions to the organization came though university - a top notch school with drugs being dealt consistently. Rather than participating in the hedonism Valentine followed the red string from dealer to dealer, back to the source. When he was granted an audience with a member of The Narcos he requested to join in on their operation, offering the future Lanesborough Hotel as a hotspot for their operation.

He acquired the position of Advisor shortly after acquiring the Hotel formally. Valentine has been serving The Narcos rather faithfully since, offering wisdom and knowhow from the safety of his throne within the Lanesborough for a little more than 25 years.

— SMALL FACTS —

Was married to Milena Zakarian for 5 years. He kept his affiliations with The Narcos a secret the entire time, and once she chose her position as head of The Takers over their marriage, he proceeded to gaslight her on the matter to cover up his own connections to his own organization.

Valentine was briefly married once before Milena, but his parents made her disappear. He does not speak of this first wife, whom was only legally married to him for two months. Any records of this marriage have been erased or otherwise expunged.

He’s not afraid to get his hands dirty in the business, though he hardly needs to nowadays. While it’s not widely public (among the other organizations) that he rolls with The Narcos, he’s very loyal to them. It started as a form of personal rebellion against the neat and rigid structure his parents had enforced upon him and became his own.

Valentine II and Cecilia passed away when Valentine was in his mid-forties of natural causes. Rumor has it that Cecilia passed after her husband due to a broken heart - Valentine suspects that such evil couldn’t sustain itself without the source and she simply withered away.

The Lanesborough is known for lavish and extravagant parties, afternoon tea, and entertainment. It is open to the public, however rooms are an exorbitant fee for even just one night ---assuring that the guests are only of the highest upper crust. It’s also served well for dealing, meetings, and other Narcos business as Valentine and his heads see fit.

[betty-draper]

Keanu Reeves as John Wick 

John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023) dir. Chad Stahelski

[batrya]

Scrubs rewatch:

6*20 «My Conventional Wisdom»

[excessfm]

( william moseley , 35 , cis man , he/his ) wait , did you just see who got off the london eye? i swear , it was DEACON ROSE. how do you not know them? i hear they’re a TECHNICAL SPECIALIST at SOUTH COMMUNICATIONS with a reputation of being HONEST + PETTY but what can you believe these days. i guess we’ll find out who they really are and why they hum the lyrics to MATTER by MODERNS in public soon enough.

— BASICS —

Name: Deacon Alexander Rose. Age / D.O.B.: 35, 1987. Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Cis Man, He/His, Heterosexual. Hometown: London, England. Affiliation: Civilian. Job position: Technical Specialist at South Communications. Education: Dual Bachelor’s Degree in Electrical Engineering and Computer Science. Relationship status: Single. Children:  None. Positive traits: Eloquent, honest, intelligent, rational, venturesome. Negative traits: Aimless, envious, moody, petty, scornful.

— BIOGRAPHY —

Born two minutes after his twin sister Alice, Deacon never felt envy or malice considering his position in the family. One thing was forged near-immediately ---the unbreakable bond between he and his other half.

At the tender age of 2 he contracted a rather nasty case of bacterial meningitis, resulting in the near-total loss of hearing in both ears. Deacon qualified for bilateral cochlear implants and was fitted for them 6 months after his illness cleared.

Despite being given the technology, Deacon still opted to learn BSL (British Sign Language) when he came of age, and despite the challenge that his loss of hearing handed him, he strove for consistent perfection.

Perhaps it was something his parents noted well and early ---how much of a perfectionist their son was. He stumbled over mistakes and stayed on that particular step of a task until he learned to perfect the motions ... then began again from step one. They believed he might have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, though he was never diagnosed officially with it.

Everything Alice did, Deacon had to somehow be attached. She was, and is, the only person who understood him wholly and without words needed ---just as he was, and is, the only person to understand her. Two faulted souls - Alice with her avoidance, her asocial behavior and lack of attachments to the world around them and Deacon with his need for perfectionism ---and despite his loss of hearing and the subsequent implants his parents viewed him as flawed or disabled - as if it were something negative to hold him back.

It came as no surprise to his family when he graduated from college with outstanding marks. It came to no surprise when he was accepted into the University of Cambridge in London for engineering. And it came as no surprise when he graduated from that with top marks, a year early. Perfect, perfect, everything had to be perfect. Demanding to retake tests, or at least be given the outlines if anything were below the highest percent attainable.

He began work with South Communications shortly after graduating. At first his position was that as a simple Tech Specialist, however he quickly gained the title of Senior. While he’s not terribly fond of being in charge of other people, he handles it well ---he ensures that the company’s technological side runs nothing short of perfect, perfect, perfect.

— SMALL FACTS —

Despite often giving the air of posh and clean-cut, Deacon very frequently participates in cage fights at the Central Gym. Aware that it’s run by one of the various organizations in London, he refuses to ally himself with anyone and instead simply fights for the pleasure of it. He’s been participating since he was in his 20′s - as a means to have control over the aspects of his life that he feels helpless to manage.

During the time he was learning BSL, Deacon and Alice developed a secret language within BSL all their own. They still speak it to this day (think Kimiko and her brother from The Boys). Often times they will fall into wordless silence, instead signing their own version of BSL to fill the void of conversation. Even others who are fluent in BSL will be clueless to their signs.

He has absolutely no connection to his parents any longer, having cut them off entirely shortly after attending University. The only person in the world who matters to him is Alice, and though he doesn’t approve of her affiliation with The Takers, he supports her entirely in her life choices regardless. She is his other half, and he would do anything for her. Period.

Often catches colds or falls ill, whether it be a poor immune system or shitty luck. However he works through his illnesses, finding some peace in coding and technology as a whole.

Has a hard time connecting with people, but he still tries. He often comes off as cold or disinterested when in reality he is simply attempting to understand others. You can’t repeat a conversation endlessly to get it right like you can math or grammar.

[excessfm]

( edgar ramirez , 45 , cis man , he/his ) wait , did you just see who got off the london eye? i swear , it was GABRIEL PEREIRA. how do you not know them? i hear they roll with the TAKERS as a SECOND IN COMMAND but what can you believe these days. most know them as a CFO at PRIME FINANCIAL with a reputation of being DEDICATED + RUTHLESS. i guess we’ll find out who they really are and why they hum the lyrics to STEPPING STONE by LEMAITRE in public soon enough.

— BASICS —

Name: Gabriel Pereira. Age / D.O.B.: 45, Unknown, assigned February 27, 1977. Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Cis Man, He/His, Heterosexual. Hometown: El Socorro, Venezuela. Affiliation: The Takers, Second in Command. Job position: CFO of Prime Financial. Education: BSA in Business and Finance. Relationship status: Divorced. Children: None. Positive traits: Articulate, capable, focused, organized, steadfast. Negative traits: Abrasive, crass, demanding, moody, secretive.

— BIOGRAPHY —

Born in El Socorro, Venezuela to a mother far too young to raise or have a child, Gabriel (his foster name) has no memories of his youth before a certain age. How he came to leave Venezuela, or how he fell into the foster system in England and everything in between, are a mystery to him even to this day.

He spent a few years in foster care before he was adopted by a wealthy protestant family, the Pereira’s, at 11. Life was rough at first ---a boy nearly feral, used to fending for himself to keep what he was given in a system that cared very little for the young wards beholden to it. It took time for him to soften up, to realize that his new parents weren’t going to simply give him back or refund their adoption just because Gabriel was a little rough around the edges.

And that he was ---home-schooling was the first step to decode the boy, re-writing the parts of him that were more fight than any other response, until he became more refined. When he came of age he was sent to a prestigious boarding school and received a fine education.

He attended London Business School after graduating from college and received his MBA shortly thereafter. In the last two years of his degree he interned at his father’s company ---the first taste of the dark side of business.

The finances of the Pereira family were not lawfully gained. Through his father Gabriel learned how to lie and cheat in a way that went mostly undetected, how to twist money from one account to another, how to bump up his own earnings.

Time spent at the company turned into a valuable asset for The Takers, who noticed Gabriel’s talent and recruited him at a low level, where he served for many years before being voted into the position of Second in Command.

At 31 he applied for and was accepted into Prime Financial, at first as an advisor before earning his way up the ranks. At 40 he was appointed CFO - a position he’s held for the past five years.

— SMALL FACTS —

Was married from 30-38. His wife was completely unaware of his illegal dealings, or his involement with The Takers. Upon finding out she filed for divorce ---irreconcilable differences. Gabriel has yet to fall into another serious relationship - championing work over personal fancies. He did, however, love his wife very much. (wc on the main).

Has a cat named Cat. Cat is very spoiled.

Spanish is still very much a language he speaks fluently, something he speaks with his adopted parents. However Gabriel has formed an English accent over his many years in London.

Has very little memory of his birth mother and can be quite aggressive if pushed about his past before being adopted.

[excessfm]

( michiel huisman , 42 , cis man , he/his ) wait , did you just see who got off the london eye? i swear , it was JAMIE ZAAL. how do you not know them? i hear they’re affiliated with the THE HANDS as an ASSOCIATE (CLEANER) but what can you believe these days. most know them as a GUEST LECTURER at IMPERIAL COLLEGE SCHOOL OF MEDICINE with a reputation of being CONCISE + DISCONNECTED. i guess we’ll find out who they really are and why they hum the lyrics to CAPSIZE by BIG BLACK DELTA in public soon enough.

— BASICS —

Name: Jamie Zaal, PhD. Age / D.O.B.: 41, October 28, 1980. Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Cis Man, He/His, Heterosexual. Hometown: Amstelveen, Noord Holland, The Netherlands. Affiliation: The Hands. Job position: Cleaner. Education: College Doctorates in Human Anatomy & Physiology. Relationship status: Single, perpetually. Children:  (daughter, unaware). Positive traits: Adaptable, charismatic, focused, meticulous, self-sufficient. Negative traits: Apathetic, greedy, irascible, private, solitary.

— BIOGRAPHY —

There was something always a little off with Jamie Zaal, though his parents were remiss to admit it. A quiet, pragmatic child that preferred observation to interaction, he was submitted to a battery of evaluations at a young age when he refused to speak for the first few years of his life. He knew how, developed the skills at the appropriate time of his burgeoning life, he simply did not wish to.

He excelled in school, showing a knack for science and math fields, but lacked the social skills to make connections with other individuals. Jamie only claimed friendship with another odd duck classmate when his parents insisted he needed a friend - in actuality he felt no attachment whatsoever.

He graduated high school a year early and was accepted into Utrecht University in The Netherlands on scholarship. Jamie has attained a doctorates in Human Anatomy & Physiology.

It was late in his high school days that Jamie came to the realization that he needed to fit in to the world around him —his serial apathy was a trait that people tended to notice in the wrong way … and he forged the personality he displays presently by 18, having it perfected within his first year at university.

He is a textbook psychopath in reality: lacking empathy, guilt or remorse, pretending to feel emotions, manipulative, and highly successful in the field he’s applied himself to. It was with these skills that he took himself to the United Kingdom to seek work, and eventually fell in with The Hands.

As to how he was inducted to affiliation, the story is something he won’t share the accurate details to. He tends to bend the truth and give anyone who asks a different answer - convincing enough that it can pass of as the whole truth. The actual truth was simple induction after presenting his skillset and knowledge.

His work seems to be the only thing that drives him, however calling him passionate would be wholly inaccurate. He is sincerely thorough in his work. There is precision and concise detail put into each step of the cleaning process: before he arrives to the moment he leaves the scene. Jamie’s doctorates and intimate knowledge of human anatomy and physiology have allowed him to think of clever and creative means to dispose of human remains —and if he simply doesn’t have enough time to do so, he can easily adapt a scene to look like an accident … or another crime entirely.

Jamie officially holds no day job, simply remains on-call for The Hands when he’s needed. However he does occasionally lecture for A&P at the Imperial College School of Medicine, when requested.

— SMALL FACTS —

Once stabbed a classmate with a pencil when they attempted to bully him, during his freshman year in high school. He was only not punished thoroughly (in-school suspension) because others attested that he was being bullied. They did not espy the pleased glimmer in Jamie’s eye,  however.

He has never had a serious relationship —or rather, one he took seriously. He is incapable of feeling that type of connection to another person, however he’s put up the façade well-enough. The longest he lasted before his partner bailed was a year, and when she started to realize there was something sincerely not right with Jamie, she packed her things and left immediately.

Smokes when he’s working - djarum black cherry cigarettes only. He ensures none of the ashes or butts remain - that would be tactless and sloppy..

Members of The Hands, depending on how long they’ve known Jamie, will know when he's performing with his forged personality. Those who have known him for a long time, or spent a longer period of time with him, will have seen his true self.

[excessfm]

tag dump.

[excessfm]

tag dump.