Recent Statuses

13 days ago
Current A friend is currently on a ventilator and is in critical condition. Yeah, but 'just a cold'
20 days ago
If I had a penny for every shirtless, ripped military veteran in every thinly veiled hook-up game presenting as something else I'd have very many pennies indeed.
1 like
22 days ago
"I enjoy collaborative storytelling with friends."
6 mos ago
The last six months has seen the slow death of four long term roleplays I loved. I contemplated just ending rp but my return to the Guild has got my creative sparks flying again! Thank you!
1 yr ago
This weekend I have been mostly been thinking about mermaids, fairies and that's all good then!


Today's bio has been brought to you by The Smiths

Shyness is nice, and shyness can stop you
From doing all the things in life you'd like to
Shyness is nice, and shyness can stop you
From doing all the things in life you'd like to
So if there's something you'd like to try
If there's something you'd like to try
Ask me, I won't say no, how could I?

Ask - The Smiths

Well hello there and thank you for peeking at my bio....

A little about me, I grew up playing solo gamebooks and then in my teens got fascinated with fantasy roleplaying - especially Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay. After a long break I rediscovered my affection for roleplaying and discovered play by post forum's. I joined a site in 2013 and haven't looked back! I don't have the time to get in a group for a few hours a week at the same time and place so play by post has been wonderful for me.

In 2015 I started freeform roleplaying and fell in love and haven't really looked back!

I'm interested in quite a lot of things, I play sci-fi settings, comedy games, slice of life games, fantasy games, historical ones...

I'm comfortable with a range of tones and have been known to get rather smutty (but never, ever essential). Smut for the sake of it bores me and I am just as likely to write a sexual incompetent as some kind of porn star. I will ALWAYS go for slow burn romance with a will they / won't they than leap into bed after ten posts. Personally I think sex scenes are often 'mechanical' rather than passionate. I have to feel something.

Perfect characters bore me. Indeed, I tend to make my characters struggle and hyper competent characters who look flawless and behave impeccably aren't really my thing.

There is very little I won't try but I am rarely interested in fandoms, preferring to build our own worlds and characters.

I enjoy chatting OOC and making friends but I'm comfortable if it's not your vibe. I enjoy a variety of tones and the most important thing for me is whoever I am sharing the roleplay are having fun and feel comfortable. If we are writing darker stories I will need to feel I trust my writing partner.

I tend to post between 8-10pm GMT

Itches to scratch -

Play / Run - Modern day slice of life games not set in the US - I'd like to pick a relatively well known city, have no real life players from there and explore living there.
Play / Run - Low level Supers in a real small town setting. System or otherwise, who needs Gotham when you've small town...
Play - Being a pirate in either a medieval or fantasy setting. Lots of swashbuckling, romance and general thievery and debauchery. System or freeform
Play - World of Darkness - old or new - I find it a bit over-facing with all the different version and splats. I'd like someone to guide me in gently.
Play - low level crime game. We're street level gangsters
Play / Run - 80's style slasher film game. Gratuitous nudity, stupid kids, bloody murder. Tongue in cheek rather than video nasty
Play / Run - Italian giallo influenced roleplay. Convoluted plot, artistic, lots of red, need all the tropes in here.
Run - my house party game. Freeform - people come in and out. You know those amazing house parties of youth. A drop in and out game of debauchery, excess, fun, comedy and drama
Run - my yet to be defined amazing Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay 1st edition campaign travelling across the Old World.
Play - 1-1 M/F romance. Two colleagues don't like each other, stuck in a lift. Buddy road trip across the US, Europe, tons of ideas.
Play - Rifts gonzo madness. I've never played before
Play - Fiasco - any modern setting
Play / Run - being in a Rock band. Very 70's / 80's debauched decadence with sex and drugs and playing loud. Characters are in a band, following the band, roadies, 'doctors', obsessed fans. System or freeform, read any biography about a band on the road for inspiration
Play - a thief in a thieves guild in some fantasy setting somewhere
Play - some kind of post-apocalyptic game as viewed through a lens popular in the 80's. I'm thinking Mad Max, cars, mohawks, bare chested men wearing leather and spikes.
1 x 1 - Let's play with fairytales - Copy the classics? Retell and twist the classics? Change the setting or the outcomes? Tell the tales from another perspective? Whatever. Princes and Princesses, talking animals and moral lessons galore. Hardcore smut and horror and gore potential but just as much enjoy traditional romance or light hearted playful stories.
1 x 1 - The fairy at the bottom of the garden comes to life...
Play / 1 x 1 - Travel the world, get into trouble, hi-jinks and adventure
Play / Run / maybe 1 x 1 - This is the ALF. The characters are part of an animal liberation cell, they choose to rescue animals from exploitation. Part espionage, part action. Don't get caught by the police... Plus all the drama of being in a clandestine group. Potential romance or prison drama.
1 X 1 - An old married couple are coming to the end of their days. We write their lives, their marriage and their stories backwards. A life lived.
1 X 1 - The taxi driver and the prostitute. Every night a married taxi driver from a conservative patriarchal culture picks up a prostitute when she has finished work. This is not primarily a romance plot and definitely not a smut one. It is about a developing friendship and their stories.
1 x 1 - Two junkies live together in squalor. They may be friends, partners or family. This story is about their relationship, their attempts to escape their addiction.
Play / 1x1 Some pulpy Indiana Jones style adventure with treasure and villains and hi-jinks galore!

My current characters:

Offsite - Casper Rudgersson, the funniest, kindest Druid you will ever want to meet.
Offsite - Jake Vayne - Low budget horror film director. Complete cokehead, sex addict shitbag. Haunted by nightmares and the disappearance of his brother. Currently looking for his sort-of-girlfriend / lead actress Lily Valentine who is missing
Offsite - Gabriella Valente - A merchant of the prestigious Valente family (occasionally referred to in hushed tones as smuggler, murderer, braggart). With her twin brother Roberto, trying to get home fighting off mutants and vampires along the way....
Offsite - Ryan Ravenscroft, a successful YA fiction writer writing under the pseudonym Zara Bennett accidentally married to sometimes socialite, sometimes lawyer Larissa Ravenscroft. Ryan is also a witch who is dealing with his wife's possession buly her long dead aunt and a house full of ghosts going back five hundred years.
Offsite - Robert Southworth, a simple farmer in the mid 17th century in Lancashire, England. Removed from the noble Southworth family due to religious differences he meets and falls in love with Lady Laurens Raven. A story involving the Lancashire witch trials, the Civil War and the fall out of the Reformation this simple love story sets in motion a story that reverberates across continents for the next five hundred years...
Eric Ceulemans - He used to have the world at his feet. Young, beautiful and without a care in the world. That was before the sickness came. Now he is ravaged by heroin, living a life of petty crime and dereliction. That is until Alex Moonen entered his life. The question is; can Alex save Eric from a living hell and give him a chance of happiness, or is Eric destined to drag Alex down with him?

Most Recent Posts

I haven't looked at the source data to verify but could it be that the huge number of new RPG's created in 2017 actually cut off the older data (because this wouldn't be present in the first 100 pages, especially if there was an increase via bots?). Would it lead to a risk that all but the most longstanding RPG's would factor into your data?.

The 2017 spike is interesting. One of my first rules of data is that if something looks off then it probably is. However, indications of a bot invasion don't hold true either as if the data is predictable it would show a similarly sharp decline and that hasn't happened. It looks like there has been a gradual decline since 2017, and whatever caused the 2017 spike also removed a lot of your earlier data from the sample. I'd be inclined to run the script on 'all' data (think the site goes back to 2013) and see what patterns emerge. I'd then be inclined to see if I could strip out the bot topic starters (maybe any post of 1 post only?) to see what the data looks like.

Another interesting thing to look at as a fellow data 'enthusiast' may be to identify topics started by board. You mentioned that we can't measure RPGs run offsite or via pm but instigated / coordinated from here but you can measure the potential change in the number / distribution of 1-1 topics / interest checks. If their variance changes differently from the other topics it may show a trend and a way of estimating the 'known unknown' of RPGs via pm.

It's terribly interesting!
Hello and thank you for looking at Casper's friendly interest check.

I've not been writing here for a year or two but I carry on sticking my head around the door like an old (slightly shy) friend and now in a pique of creative positivity I have decided to put together a little interest check.

I only have one hard rule and that is that any roleplaying partners are over 18.

I think I am a rather easygoing fellow and quite fluid with my roleplaying expectations so see the obligatory hidden list of asks not as hard and fast rules, but more an indication of the kind of writer I am and to give you an indication of whether we are likely to gel together well.

Well if you're still here I have a few pairings you may be interested in. Feel free to pitch something to me or suggest ideas based on the below. I have lots of other ideas and I am sure you do too!

Thanks a lot for reading and drop me a PM if interested.
Slice of life games that are actually a slice of life rather than characters that are supermodel airline pilots who are Olympic level fencers opening a highly unrealistic businesses....

I love the rich tapestry of life and the wonderful stories that the person you last saw has to tell, which can't be told because everyone else is showing off how unique and perfect they are.

So yeah, grounded social realism for me always makes my heart sing.
Sam jigged Louis so he held him with just his right arm, the baby crooked into him against his chest as he turned to Brooklyn.

"You okay babe?" he asked her, with a smile on his face. Brooklyn was an emotional woman - they were an emotional couple who were not afraid to show their feelings with each other. It was unusual to see Brooklyn cry as he walked through the door - that was true, and yet there was something about the season, and being at home all day with Louis all day that he thought made them both appreciate being together.

"Come here," he said opening up his other arm, kissing Brooklyn softly on her cheek. He could taste the saltiness of her tear, damp against his lips and hoped there wasn't a sadness to her tears.

"Rough day?" he asked, putting his other arm around her. He turned to Louis, "you been crazy today Son?"

He loved his family in his arms, it made coming home ever so sweet.

"Just let me get my jacket off and I'll cook dinner. I'll make something nice for us all."
It had been a long day, but a fun day. The library was relatively quiet with few customers loaning books at this time of year. Sure they had their regulars in and it was generally a happy time. If people weren't stressed shopping or preparing for the big day they usually had a smile on their face and greeted each other with kindness. Sam had lost count of the amount of times he said, "Merry Christmas," wishing the old ladies getting another stack of romances, or school kids working on their next project. It was a nice time of year and Sam often pondered that the world would be a better place if people showed the joy they felt at Christmas time all year round.

Of course, if you asked Sam when he missed Brooklyn and Louis he would say 'all day', but it always seemed to get to him around 3 p.m. A couple of hours to go and he'd really start to miss them both. He knew they were both at home and couldn't wait to see them - he wasn't the kind of guy who went for drinks after work, he went straight home to see the only people who mattered. Sam popped into the supermarket on the way home to pick up a few pieces for dinner. He enjoyed his time in the kitchen and he saw his role of provider, not through the wage of his job but in the food that he cooked and the love he tried to bring into their home.

Sam pulled up in their drive way and walked to the front door. Before he put his key in the door he lifted his arm several times as if placing things on a coat stand. It was his 'trouble tree'. Every night when he returned home from work, he placed all the issues and annoyances of the day and hung them on his 'trouble tree', there was no reason to bring them into the home and if he still needed them they would be there tomorrow. It was a 'thing' he did so that the Sam who entered their home was the best possible version of himself.

Entering their living room he called out 'Hey Honey!" to Broooklyn before swooping down to pick up Louis and giving him a hug, twirling him around in his arms, his smile mirroring the babe's. "Hiya big man!" he said to the boy, "You been looking after Mommy today?" he said turning to see where his amazing fiancé was.
It only took another split second for everything to be over. The cop advancing on him had seen him jump and whether by perception or instinct had realised Sam wanted that gun. The cop went to draw but either due to nerves or fear he fumbled the weapon as it clattered to the floor, somehow in the process cuffing himself.

He heard his father's words of hate scream from the dock and he wanted to kick, punch, fight his way over, fight through these men and women before him but he paused, and instantly took a step back.

He was here for justice. Not just for Brooklyn, but for everyone. It hadn't been served but his father wasn't getting out. If he continued the only place he would be was jail too. He recalled that feeling of pure white love that came over him in the cell that morning weeks ago when he promised to move on. He felt an immense need for restraint, to see his son, to move on.

"You're right Dad," he said holding up his hands and backing away to the wall to allow the officers to restrain and remove him. "I am not going to murder you, I don't want my boy to grow up not knowing me, like I did with you. And yes, I am a coward. The people I love are what matters and if I give in to rage now, I'll be no better than you."

As Sam was ejected from the courtroom to a small ante room to cool off - luckily he hadn't yet committed a crime (unless the judge was particularly harsh) he shouted over. "I know you killed her Dad, this room knows what you did. Rapist."

Sam sat in the room, drinking water out of a plastic cup. His father had been sentenced to eight years. It was a long sentence the lawyer for the prosecution said, reflecting on the intent of the crime and his previous conviction. The Judge was certain that a vendetta had been carried out both against his own family but that of Brooklyn's too. The Judge had also warned Sam about how close he was to being arrested himself.

"I'm not him," he said, staring at the wall. "I'm a good person, a good father. I'm hurting because I know he did it. He took Brooklyn away from her parents, from Louis and from me. I don't need revenge, but I do want justice."

Sam dried the tear forming in the corner of his eye. He needed to get home to his son....

Sam returned home and he tried to process the shock he was in. Not only at the conclusion of the trial and the verdict regarding Brooklyn, but also the fact that it was over. He had learnt the terrifying truth the last few months about his father and his evil had killed the most innocent person there was. He sat on the couch whilst Louis gurgled. He picked up his son and held him tight. Whichever way there lives would go they would go there together. Sam would make sure that Brooklyn's memory would live on always. Louis would know everything there was to know about his mother and Sam would raise Louis so she would be proud of them both as she looked down from heaven.

There is a light that never goes out....
Sam felt all the atoms in his body disassemble and collapse. It was like he had disintegrated into billions of tiny pieces and it felt like he'd disappeared, leaving a pool of clothes on the floor. Sadly, Sam had not disappeared, he was real. This was real. Having sat through the trial that bastard of a father was guilty of all counts. He was sure, the pieces connected together. Why was he at their house? To get Louis. Why did he want Louis? Because he knew his own blood was away, framed for a murder he did not commit. Who could have known that except the murderer? The person whose vile seed was responsible for his existence killed Brooklyn - Sam was certain. Why did he kill her? To hurt Autumn. Why did he frame his own son? To hurt Patty. This evil son of a bitch did everything out of revenge for his own disgusting actions.

Sam had coped, he really had. This trial, this seeing it through was bringing closure to the last few months. He would never, ever forgive his father but if he was jailed forever that would be enough. He would never, ever stop loving Brooklyn, but she was gone from this mortal realm and he'd be an old man before he saw her again. Tomorrow was going to be the start of a new day, but now this?????

"NO!" Sam yelled from the public gallery, "NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" he screamed as the judge banged his gavel calling for order.

In the dock Harvey Hanson laughed, "you little pussy, just like your momma, you ain't fit to have that boy..." he jeered. Twisted as Harvey was, inside his mind his son was a massive failure. Timid and shy at home, hanging around with girls, awful at sports. As a man the fag worked at a library for chriss'sakes. Harvey wished he'd smacked the boy just a little more, in fact he'd respect the little prick if he had took a swing at him all those years ago.

Sam's life had been slowly repairing since dawn rose in that grey cell, the memory of Brooklyn's love and inherent goodness was the shining light that guided him every single day no matter how hard it was.

'Not guilty.... how...why???' went through his head before his hearing connected to his brain and he understood the words the bastard was saying.

At times of extreme stress and pressure the body is energising to do more than it has ever done before, feats of prowess, strength and speed. Instinctively Sam leapt over the barrier at the dock and dropped to the floor. He was a matter of metres away from Harvey whose cuffed hands were raised, egging him on for a fight.

"I'll show you who's a fucking pussy!" yelled Sam as in a split second officers moved towards him and others moved to take the soon to be convicted down. Out of the corner of his eye Sam saw the pistol in the holster of a young officer rushing him.

Life was beginning to get back to normal, well as normal as life could ever be after that fateful night in December. The house no longer felt like home, not since Brooklyn left, not since it was violated by Sam's father, not since Louis was touched by him. Sam thought he would never leave this house, their first home together, but after the events of that day he realised they were only bricks and mortar and it was down to Sam and Louis to shape their own future together. Brooklyn would always be with them in their hearts and in his memory. Whether they were here or elsewhere his love for Brooklyn would never change.

He'd been horrified by what he'd learnt about his Dad. He'd raped Brooklyn's mother - a woman who treated him like a mother when he and Brooklyn were growing up. He raped his own mother until she finally stood up to him and his violence. How Sam didn't know this was going on he never knew but then again he cut himself some slack - he was just a boy. He'd also learnt that Dad was a thief and a drug dealer, by now a hardened criminal. All his childhood memories were now tarnished by this knowledge. And even after all this, there was something darker, much darker. Sam was convinced that his father had killed Brooklyn, he could only guess at the motive but it seemed to relate to Autumn somehow. Whatever hatred thrived in his father's soul he was beyond redeemable to have killed another human being out of revenge. Sam could not comprehend this, yet alone imagine someone doing this to the mother of their grandchild and try to frame his own son, his own flesh and blood.

Sam wanted to hate his father, but really hate was not enough. He knew he could never, ever forgive him and he wanted him to be punished but he knew that if he allowed himself to be controlled by hate he would fall into the same pit as his father. Sam no longer recognised that man as anything to do with him and tried his best to believe natural justice would be served.

The day of the trial arrived. Part of Sam didn't want to go. Let justice take it's own path. Brooklyn couldn't be brought back, and he knew his father would be jailed for a long, long time. He didn't need to know....

Sam breathed in deeply as he played with Louis. He owed it to everyone to attend. To Ella who suffered horribly at his hands, for Autumn and Rick - Autumn had chosen not to press charges for the rape a generation ago, not wishing to have her own past under scrutiny of an unfeeling defence lawyer. For Patty, his own mother who suffered alone, not knowing the man she married was a monster. But most of all for Brooklyn - an angel who deserved only the best in life, who never hurt a single person, who was pure love in a bottle. Sam needed to stare the person who killed his dear fiancée and look him in the eye before freedom was taken away forever.

"Mr Harvey Hanson, how do you plead on the charges of 'Assault causing bodily harm of Ella Smith'?"

"Not guilty," snarled Sam's Dad.

"on the charge of 'Child Endangerment of Louis Hanson' how do you plead?"

"Not guilty," exclaimed the defendant, "as if I'd hurt the boy!"

"Ahem, on the charge of the 'Murder of Miss Brooklyn Jones on the night of December 17th' how do you plead?"

Harvey paused, scanned the public gallery before stopping when he saw his son. He stared at his son for a long moment, not breaking his gaze.

"Mr Hanson..."

"Not Guilty," he said, never taking his eyes off his son, his glare burning into his boy with a fire of malevolent evil.
All was hazy. The lights and colours blended into each other. Her skin and outline shimmered. They were kids. Sam looked in the locker and found the card. The card that meant everything was different. His best friend loved him. Sam walked down the hall to where Brooklyn and Ella stood. They were no longer the girls from school, they were the women who had grown up together. Sam walked right past Ella and kissed Brooklyn, with that same sweet gentleness that accompanied their love. Before his eyes the girl smiled back, his cheeks glowing and eyes unsure. Sam kissed the child again, Brooklyn was woman.

Sam and Brooklyn walked home from school that day, holding hands. Sam felt silly being an adult at school. Brooklyn changed from her school girl age to her current age. It was immaterial. Sam loved her. He had always loved her. That day so little had been said but so much was communicated. Their shyness shared only be smiles and kisses. Sam had yet to grow into the man of confidence that would just sweep Brooklyn off her feet.

"I think this is the happiest day of my life," said Sam as their lips met again, as they stood by the tree (what was to become 'their' tree). "Today, is where we learn dreams come true," as he gently lifted her hands. Brooklyn threw her arms around his neck and he pulled her in close. They'd hugged LOTS as they reached their teens but it was always as platonic friends (not that either would admit to themselves the truth). Brooklyn whispered into his ear,

"Never let me go..."

Sam heard it's ethereal quality as he promised to her he would hold her for all eternity. Sam swam....


Sam awoke on the floor of the cold cell. The floor was freezing, cold tiles indenting into his skin. He reached for his face and found his bearings. He crawled over to the bunk and climbed on it's stiff mattress, the wiry threads of the blanket scratching his arms. everything was dark.

'I am in Hell' he thought as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, a glimmer of grey light signified where the cell door and the corridor beyond was. He had been dreaming.

Sam closed his eyes, willing to go back to sleep, to go back to her. It was futile, it wasn't possible anymore. What on earth had happened in the last day or so. His head was a scattering of clearly connected jigsaw pieces but when he tried to put them together he realised he couldn't. The pieces were supposed to fit but wouldn't fit no matter how hard he tried. He had been possessed by anger, hatred, sorrow, disgust. He was scared for everyone he loved and consumed by fear. Sam closed his eyes again and tried to dream.

"Never let me go..."

Sam heard the voice of Brooklyn, but is was Brooklyn the apparition that haunted his dreams. Brooklyn the Protector. Brooklyn the Forgiver. Brooklyn the Mother.

"Never let me go..."

Sam wanted to argue with her. That he would destroy him, that he would avenge her, that he would cause pain ten times to what he had given to Autumn and his mother.

"Never let me go..."

Sam knew she was right, she was always right. "I won't let you go," he whispered into the cold pre-dawn air and Sam felt a wave of pure love wash over him. He bathed in the golden light of peace and serenity, he laid on the bunk and let clean, selfless love coat him.

Sam processed the thoughts through his mind of what needed to happen.

I need to get out of here. I have done nothing wrong and I am INNOCENT. I will tell the officers everything I can and I will be free.
I will go home and get Louis. I will be the best father I can ever be for him. He will know I always love him and I give my life to him.
I will forgive my Mom. She has always tried to protect me. I have poured everything bad onto her whilst she suffered to. I am sorry.
I will arrange a ceremony for Louis. Chad and Ella shall be his God-parents. Brooklyn would be so proud. Louis deserves people like that in his life.
My Father I own. I am of his blood but I am not him. He shall face justice for Louis, justice for Ella, justice for Mom, justice for Autumn but most of all justice for Brooklyn. He shall pay for his own sins but I shall not.

With these affirmations Sam began the rest of his life. The leap Sam wanted to get to though was understanding Brooklyn's death. He knew someone had attempted to frame him and it certainly appeared Dad was responsible but he didn't know the scale of evidence against him, if any. He knew he had to let go of hate to move on. To forgive? That seemed unlikely right now, but he knew he needed Brooklyn's guided light to watch over him.

Sam began to speak, a little self-consciously but with feeling,

"I wish you were still here. I wish you never went away. I need you and miss you so much. You are my True North. With you we achieved everything and I try to be strong and it is hard. I wish you could see me from Heaven. I know it would hurt you to see all this horror but I guess you see the full picture, the past, the present, the future. I dreamed of you tonight. I dream of you every night. You are there in the night but you walk with me during the day. Stay by side Brooklyn, pick me up when I fall. I wish I could have protected you and this never happened. Your leaving us though, it's only for now. When I am an old man I'll join you, and Louis will join us too in Heaven when he is old too. Keep waiting for us. Stay by my side before I see you again my love."

Dawn came and the rattle of keys in the door signified a new day. Officer Laurence Collins looked like he'd been through hell the last day and it was apparent that things had progressed during the evening.

"Come on Sam," he said quietly, "back to the interview room..."

Sam followed meekly, noticing that he wasn't cuffed as he entered the room.

"Now Sam," the officer said, "technically you are still under arrest but I am not recording this conversation. We're going to process you out and you will not be remanded in custody and you do not need to post bail. We'll have the documentation before the judge in an hour or two."

A knock at the door was answered by the officer and two cups of steaming coffee in polystyrene cups were placed on the table.

"You need this kid," said the officer passing one drink to him.

"Here is the situation. We haven't got a lot of evidence at all. The store card with your name on it is the only evidence. We've checked it for prints and there are only yours on it. However, we have reason to believe it was planted which you probably guessed. Without your confession, or any other evidence no court in the land would convict you. For what it's worth I believe you are innocent too. We have your phone records from home and your cell and we have the times of you arriving here and also CCTV from around town that night. You didn't do it, we know it. You would have had to hide the vehicle, go through everything you did, then hide the vehicle during a time when you were surrounded then ditched it sometime."

Officer Collins paused before continuing,

"You were very close yesterday to being in more trouble. If you'd have hit an officer or your Father you could have gone down badly. Hell, if we wanted we could charge you for attacking the patrol car with your head, but I shouldn't have brought you there anyway. The reason I am telling you this is because you need to calm down. Go to the doctors, get patched up. Arrange via Child Protection for your son to come home. I'm going to recommend it but I want Social Workers to sign you off as fit. You need to get a grip for your son."

"A number of accusations were thrown yesterday and we've got to unpick all of that. Do not contact Mr. and Mrs. Jones, the Social Workers will return your son to you. Do not discuss any alleged crimes committed by your father with anyone. If I have to run you in because you lose it I can't protect you and your number one concern is your son. I'm sorry we had to do what we did to you. It is our job. More importantly it is our job to obtain justice for your fiancée. Do you understand all of this."

Sam nodded, yet remained silent. He was being cut a break.

"Your father has a list of charges against him at the moment and there is a strong chance he will be charged with your fiancée's murder. He will be remanded in custody until a trial date and cannot hurt you or anyone else. We cannot control the outcome of any trial but I am telling you this. Do not try and engage with him, do not try and seek revenge. For your good and your little boy keep your head down and get on with life. Do you understand Sam?"

Sam looked the officer in the eye and sipped the coffee.

"Yes Officer. Got it.."

A few hours later Sam was sat in the patrol car and pulled into his street. The neighbours curtains were twitching again. His house had been visited by forensics and they'd removed any sign of police presence. Patty was there trying to tidy up and make it look like a home again. The house had been violated but it was love that made a home. Sam walked in and hugged his mom, both of them assuring each other they were 'okay'. "Louie will be home soon," he said smiling.

Meanwhile back at the station Officer Collins breathed in as he prepared for his next interview. "Time to nail that bastard," he said grimly to his colleague at the door.
Sam sat brooding in his cell. He was furious, angry and hurt. Chad was at the hospital looking after Ella and the cause of all of this was his Dad. That horrible, evil human being that had ruined so many lives had the nerve to be back her, "and I'm his son!" he wailed.

Sam, thankfully was out of cuffs but that was no respite. His wrists bled, his head had stopped bleeding but looked sore.

"That man. That man hurt Ella. That man threatened to hurt Louis. He hurt Autumn and Mom too all those years ago," he muttered before having a horrible, horrible dark thought.

'My God....Brooklyn....'

Brooklyn's death was no accident. She was killed and Sam was fitted up for the crime. Sam would never understand why, but who would want to hurt him and Brooklyn? He couldn't answer this, but the man who hurt Mom, Ella and Autumn was now the only logical person who could have hurt her.

Sam banged on his cell door, "Open up! Open up! I know who killed Brooklyn!"

Sam carried on banging on the cell and at this point he knew full well that in this small police station there was someone else who could hear his cries for help...

"Dad, I promise you. Right now, you will pay for this. I will see you in Hell. For what you did, you will pay."

He sat down on the bunk, his head in his hands and cried, thinking of Brooklyn, who suffered for reasons beyond his comprehension. He cried for Louis who was probably in child protection right now. He cried for his Mother and Autumn, pretty much a surrogate mother and all they suffered. If someone had have offered him the blade, the noose or the pills he would have ended it all right there and then. He was born of an evil man.

He banged the door for some time, knowing full well he was being ignored. He got louder and louder before tiring. It was an awful day all around. Eventually, he curled up on the floor and whimpered until unconsciousness caught up to him...
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