#closed scene

[harlems-hero]

Christian had finally run out the sympathy of his rib injury. Bronson Reichsteiner could be accused of a lot of things, but none of them were being reckless and dangerous in-ring. But while that’s true, there’s inherent danger in a man north of two-fifty pounds exploding into an opponent in a short space. When the prior situation isn’t on a Mensway.com scenario and in wrestling, that’s just entertainment.

This still meant the end of the working week however. Christian had packed “Carmelo Hayes” up for the week and been sure to leave his authentic NXT championship in a Full-Sail storage area. He’d ordered a replica for the house, and it remained boxed in his closet, along with a collection of very retro brimmed hats courtesy of @twcstedjacy s collection.

Today was as good as any, he mused. After being swept up seeing the sights in Puerto Rico, and spending the time in paradise he knew there were some serious conversations that should be had. It’s fun to speak aloud on homes, children and headlocks, but eventually a solid foundation was to be built.

“Tay! You busy or are the Jersey Housewives up to something again?”

[harlems-hero]

“Scuse’ me brother. But this seat’s taken.  Me and Henry got a standing appointment, kna’mean?” The newer arrival noted the entire room. One glance took inventory of the sizable entourage, and guards posted in arms reach.  Another to a very nervous clientele, and a third to Pop himself.  

“Now.  What we got here is something that’s going to have to fix itself.  Maybe Prince Akeem and Semi, and the rest of the Zamunda Crush Crew can go see Fish.  Play a game or three while I get my lineup. “ Cornell looked about for validation, followed by a theatrical laugh.  On cue, his own handlers chuckled and mimicked his amusement. Not louder than their boss’s however.

T’Challa noted all of it himself. W’kabi was a split second away from reaching into his own coat pocket to find a silencer for the interruption, when his Prince raised a hand.  “I may have been mistaken.  We were not aware that Mister Hunter’s business operated in this manner. Perhaps our diligence overlooked neighborhood favors and debtors.  Mr. Stokes, there was no insult meant.”

“I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Formally, we have not. But we’re rather intimate now, I would think.”  

Cottonmouth knew that any escalation could involve much more heat than he was prepared for, especially hearing the accents that were far removed from Harlem, Manhattan, or anywhere in the city.  

That, and the last thing he’d want is Mariah’s mouth for having an international incident three blocks from her campaign headquarters.  Truthfully, he was a little surprised she wasn’t taking the photo ops and leading the Prince around by his elbow. Or other parts, if she had her normal way of favors.

“Cornell…today is not the day.”  Pop himself finally made his way through, forming a distraction first and then a dividing line between two small, intense armies.  “But we’ve got visitors.  I’m not authorized to service his Grace due to…my situation.  But I’m happy to take care of you in the next chair over.  It’s the proper way of doing this.” His voice lowered, setting his alerted eyes on those of his longtime friend and accomplice. “I’m asking.  This doesn’t go down in here.  You don’t want this.”

[swiped-mbulstrode-blog]

@swiped-seamus

Gathering information for advertisements in the Prophet was not normally a part of Millicent’s job description, but the advertising rep was home sick with some sort of pox and they needed the information today, so someone had decided that Millicent should go. Apparently in their mind, fact checking was close enough to what they needed, and the editor-in-chief had decided that they could go without Millicent for a few hours.

Resignedly accepting her new assignment, Millicent gathered her things - notepad, quill, list of questions from the advertising department head - and tucked them into her bag. If nothing else, she thought to herself, maybe I’ll get some ice cream out of this deal. I mean, it’s freezing out, but still...

Heading out of the Prophet’s offices, she made her way to Florean Fortescue’s, peering into the window for a moment before she opened the door. The shop’s bell chimed happily as the door shut behind her, a pair of women gossiping at a corner table turning to see who had entered. Rolling her eyes, Millicent walked toward the counter, considering the variety of flavours to choose from while she waited for an employee to show up.