Avatar of casper

Status

Recent Statuses

1 yr ago
Current You could give some people the whole breadth of human experience to write about and they'd still have an orgy after ten posts....
1 like
3 yrs ago
I have come to the conclusion that my writing ability has significantly atrophied. Looking at old rp's and thinking 'did I write that'?
4 likes
3 yrs ago
Two months focused work has come to nothing, Feels like I have missed in a penalty shootout. Need to write those blues away I think...
3 yrs ago
I never do fandoms but the last few days have seen me fantasising over a Stardew Valley roleplay bordering on obsession!
3 likes
3 yrs ago
Oh gosh I bought Stardew Valley for the kids at Christmas and I can't stay off it! Love it!
1 like

Bio

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 write in sci-fi settings, comedy, slice of life, fantasy, historical...you get the idea

I'm comfortable with a range of tones and have been known to get rather smutty on occasion (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 -

Group / 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.
Group / Run - Low level Supers in a real small town setting. System or otherwise, who needs Gotham when you've small town...
Group - 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.
Group - low level crime game. We're street level gangsters
Group / Run - 80's style slasher film game. Gratuitous nudity, stupid kids, bloody murder. Tongue in cheek rather than video nasty
Group / 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.
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.
Group - Rifts gonzo madness. I've never played before
Play - Fiasco - any modern setting
Group / 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
Group - a thief in a thieves guild in some fantasy setting somewhere
Group - 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...
Group / 1 x 1 - Travel the world, get into trouble, hi-jinks and adventure
Group / 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.
Group / 1x1 Some pulpy Indiana Jones style adventure with treasure and villains and hi-jinks galore!
Group / 1x1 Fucked up cult leader madness
Group / Run / 1x1 Stardew Valley rp
A Steampunk comedy romance of some description...
All them witches - strong itch for stories about a coven, or competing covens. Always a bit of space for comedy and romance alongside darkness and light in occult witchcraft settings. Or maybe a little village full of witches not getting along, but facing an external threat of witch hunters.
A quaint investigative agency set in a little British town or city where the characters investigate ghosts, weirdness and strange phenomena . There may be 'under the hood' fairies, witches and folkloric creatures the world has forgotten about....

My current characters:

Offsite - Casper Rudgersson, the funniest, kindest Druid you will ever want to meet.
Offsite - Jake Vayne, addicted to cocaine, booze and sex (in that order). Jake is a misogynistic shitbag, a narcissist of the highest order with a God complex. Jake's a notorious and moderately successful underground, independent film maker specialising in transgressive horror. A genius to his fans, a disgusting torture porn merchant to the film industry. Jake is currently trapped in an underground shadow world searching for his lead actress, fuck buddy, muse - generally the woman who keeps him sane, accompanied by her sister, searching for answers like, 'what the fuck did my dead brother do to me' and 'am I really God'
Offsite - woe aka Simon Banks, former singer of blackgaze DSBM band Dead Inside. Currently in rehab following a heroin overdose and obsessed with a Twitch streamer
Offsite - Eddie Hussein - a British taxi driver emigrated to San Francisco and becomes best friends with a heroin ravaged prostitute
Offsite - Running a solo game for a linguistics student in a folklore drenched historical city of York

Most Recent Posts

Officer Collins didn't know what the hell was going on. In the back of his car was a murder suspect cuffed on the phone to his mother whilst his distraught lawyer held the phone to his ear. He really should stop the car, lock them both up and try and deal with the situation himself. However, the situation at the suspect's home was difficult and potentially a young child's life was in danger. The sirens blared as the car cut through traffic as he tried to concentrate on the road rather than the mayhem going on in the back.

"What the!!!!!" cried Sam, incredulous. His mother was crying on the end of the phone. "My Dad didn't run out? He was in jail all this time and you never told me?" Sam raged on the phone as he cradled it against his ear, "Why Mom? Why? Why didn't you tell us? We could have made the choice to see him!"

Patty, on the other end of the line meekly replied, "your father is a drug dealer and a thief. He is bad."

"But why is he at my house now? Why has he got Louis? This doesn't make sense. You could have said he didn't run out on us!"

Sam was dangerously close to putting the man who had caused so much misery on a pedestal and blaming his mother for only trying to protect him.

Interspersed with Sam's failing to grasp what was happening, in the meantime Chad was urging Officer Collins to drive faster. He needed to see Ella and fast.

"Wh..." Sam's insistence for answers came to an abrupt stop as his mother gave in, screeching down the phone, "BECAUSE HE'S A RAPIST! He raped Autumn, Brooklyn's Mom, he raped me and I kept quiet. He is scum. The ONLY good thing he has EVER done is give me you and your sister!"

For the first time in a while Sam was silent.....

Inside his head a maelstrom of notions played out. Brooklyn's Mom? Autumn? He did what? When? How? Mom?

Why had this been kept from him. He'd have never gone near Brooklyn if he'd have known. He'd have broke up with her. How much must it have hurt poor Autumn to see the son of the man who hurt her so much even touch her daughter. Autumn never showed anything but love to Sam and Louis but right now Sam felt both he and his son were tainted. Rapist's blood.

"I am so sorry Mom...I didn't know..." he mumbled.




The car pulled up right outside Sam's house. An ambulance was there tending the injured woman on the ground. Officers were pushing an older man into the back of a patrol car. Half the neighbours were watching from a relatively safe distance as Rick and Autumn looked on, bewildered on the lawn. Officer Collins got out to appraise the situation as Sam began to shout.

"Louis, Louis! My son! Where is he? Is he okay?"

Thankfully, Rick had the good sense to locate the babe and bring him over to the car.

"Ella!" shouted Chad, demanding to be let out. Of course the car couldn't be opened from the inside and the officer had left the car unattended. It was the simplest of things for Rick to open the car door.

And then pandemonium broke loose....

Chad ran to the ambulance, "Ella, Ella, it's my hon." He dove to the back to see his beautiful innocent wife looking like she'd been hit by a truck.

"I'm okay baby," she said, wincing in agony as she tried to talk. She reached out her hand for Chad,

"I'm right here Ella. Right here with you..." he replied softly.

Sam tried to hold Louis whilst still cuffed, "my boy, my boy. My sweet boy. Is he alright?" he asked Rick before the realisation hit him.

"I'm sorry Rick, I'm so very sorry for everything. All the pain my family has caused you. Where's Autumn?"

Before Rick could answer, Sam had passed Louis back to Rick and walked quickly over to a traumatised Autumn.

"I am so sorry," he said slowly. "Every time you saw me you must have hated me. I didn't know... honestly I didn't know..."

Sam felt devastated, he was carrying the Sins of the Father on his back and then in the corner of his eye he saw him.

That grin. That smirk which radiated from him was a foul cross between pride and hate. Sam lost it. The man he hadn't seen for a generation was looking at him like he was a 'chip off the old block'. Father and Son cuffed together. Sam ran over to the car screaming, "you fucking bastard. You bastard. I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You!" he yelled kicking the patrol car before headbutting the roof of the car before he was wrestled to the ground and dragged back into the car he arrived in.

Bleeding from his head Sam realised he had messed everything up. From the sensitive boy who liked nothing more than singing sweet nothings to his darling Brooklyn, who was sensitive, never swore, never raised a voice in anger he was now descending into a personal hell, as emotions never felt before came to the surface. I am my Father's Son.
<Snipped quote by Inkarnate>

I mean, I would agree if this was a regular thing but it's not, and I had made the post stating I would not be able to post.

I guess what bothered me the most was the demandingly passive aggressive nature of the message. Don't go around acting like you're the GM if you're NOT the GM if the game and one should certainly read the OOC to check for notifications of such nature before one just assumes people are too lazy to post


Geez that's awful. It's one thing to disappear without saying, that's not cool but happens but announcing not posting and getting that? I swear some people have no manners. There are a lot of people with terrible social skills lacking empathy out there!
Back at the station Officer Collins tried to calm the two men down. The suspect was clearly terrified for his son, the lawyer seemed to have a loved one at the house. The interrogation had took a bizarre turn for the worse.

"Gentleman. I am asking you to calm down, I am ordering you to calm down. Our officers are on their way and this will be resolved."

What turned with trying to get more information regarding the crime had turned into something different. The men were frightened.

"My wife is there!" shouted the lawyer. Chad had lost all sense of professional decorum whilst Sam just say there repeating, "Louis...Louis..."

At that moment the young officer who had passed information earlier came back to the interview room.

"Call for you Sir," he said and Officer Collins took the opportunity for the break to take the call, signalling the younger officer to watch over the two men.

Chad saw his opportunity and pushed past the officer into the corridor.

"Tell me what is going on, I'm coming with you..." he called following Collins.

"Now Sir, this is police business. Go back to the room Sir," urged Officer Collins. He could do without the lawyer making things worse.

"I am NOT under arrest Officer and I am coming with you!" he replied following the police officer's stride.

"Keep him back," shouted a very strained police officer. The day had just gone to shit very quickly. He went behind a desk as Chad was restrained by another officer.

Picking up the receiver he interspersed the call with, 'uh-huh's' and other affirmations. He ran his fingers through his greying hair, considering his options. They had hardly anything on Sam. It was a tenuous questioning at best. He had a good notion that the identification was a plant and now there was a man at the suspect's house, his own father, and Sam was terrified!

As he processed the details about the casualty he looked at the desperate lawyer over the desk. 'Shit' he thought, 'this isn't looking good'. Officer Collins wasn't a gambler, wasn't a maverick. He was procedural more than anything, but right now was one of those moments in an officer's career where you had to make a call and make the right one.

He walked over to the locked firearms cabinet and withdrew his rifle whilst Chad looked on frightened. He walked over to the lawyer and spoke,

"there is an incident at your client's home. I need you to be calm. There has been a casualty. She is alive but injured. Wait for me on the forecourt. We're going over there."

Chad wanted to run, to get the officer moving. Not Ella, not Ella! He was going through what Sam must have been going through just a few short weeks ago and then Chad's stomach lurched. Ella was alive but what about the baby....

"Louis..." he said....

Officer Collins spoke authoritatively. "Your client is still under arrest, but he's coming with us. We have reason to believe we have a hostage situation in progress and your client may be able to help."

Walking to the interview room, he requested Sam was uncuffed from the table. "You're coming with us son. We need you to talk to your Dad. He has your son and we need to get him safe."

Sam ran, barging through doors with his shoulder. "Louis, Louis," he cried as he ran. He was outside before Chad and the cop were despite his restraints.

"Talk to that bastard? I'll fucking kill him," Sam muttered. He had no idea of his father's criminal past, his rape of Brooklyn's mom or the inkling he was involved in killing Brooklyn. He knew he was back and Louis was in danger.

"Chad - get my mom on the phone now!" he yelled as the patrol car sped off with the three men inside.

"Mom - Dad's back and there's trouble at home. He's hurt Ella. Why's he back. What the hell is going on?"

On the other end of the phone Patty's world shattered. Everything she and Autumn had shielded from Sam came crashing down. He'd need to know the truth. What that bastard did.
Autumn was wild-eyed in horror at the sight in her daughter's living room. A nightmare from her past had come back to haunt her and her family.

She wanted to scream, her brain couldn't comprehend the person before her, holding her grandson, his grandson!

Autumn pulled her phone out of her bag and hastily dialled 911.

"Police. This is an emergency!" she shouted, "23 Fountains Reach! Send officers now!"

Back at the station the emergency call was put through with haste.

"Yes Madam," he said to the woman on the phone, "can you remain calm and tell me exactly what the problem is?"

Autumn was frantic as she backed away to the front door, terrified for the safety of her husband who she could hear shouting in the kitchen.

"Harvey Hanson is OUT! And he's got my baby!" she shrieked.

The officer on the end of the phone spoke clearly, "are you in any immediate danger?" he asked, the safety of the caller being of paramount importance.

"Just get out here!" shouted Autumn panicking.

"We'll get a patrol car out there now," the officer said, requesting the car from the triage software on his desktop. In a town this small with such a small force it was easier to shout across the room sometimes but he needed to gather more information. He watched the two young officers over the desk nod and head off to their vehicle. He would be able to update them as they made their way there.

"Get yourself out of the house if you can madam and keep talking to me, can you be specific about the person who has your baby? Is he known to you and is he armed?"

Right now the officers in the patrol car would be patched in and listening to the call.

"It's Harvey Hanson. He's the father of our son-in-law. He is in their house and has stolen our grandson Louis. He's going to hurt him! Please come quickly!"

The officer had looked on the database for the house and saw that they currently had the occupant of the house under arrest for the murder of his fiancée. This call looked definitely like trouble. If the accused was in the cells then his father must be angry at something. Whilst he spoke to Autumn, he searched for the father on the database.

"Is there anyone else in the house with you? Can you explain why you feel your grandson is in danger?" It was important to keep potential victims talking. It stopped them doing anything reckless or dangerous and it was vital to get as much information as possible for the officers due on the scene.

"My husband, my husband Rick has gone after him. I don't know, Brooklyn's friend Ella is supposed to be here but I don't know where she is!" Autumn said tearfully as she stood on the front lawn of the house. She felt that she was betraying Rick and Louis by being out here and not helping but the rational part of her brain knew this was the best course of action.

The officer taking the call breathed in when he saw what was on his desktop. Harvey Hanson was a convicted criminal who had recently completed a long stretch in jail. Originally convicted of money laundering and financial embezzlement through the haulage firm he was a middle manager for, it later came out that he was running heroin in and out of Canada via his employer's vehicles. He'd hardly been a model prisoner in jail either with further misdemeanours and smuggling lengthening to his sentence. It appeared that he was the father of the man currently in custody. Possibly he was convinced of his son's innocence and was in dispute with the other grandparents over access to the child.

"Hold the line madam, I'll be with you in a moment," he said blocking out the caller for a minute. "You getting this guys? Looks like a domestic dispute. We've got the son in custody for the murder of the daughter. Potentially we've got a grandparent dispute. Harvey Hanson the man in the house should be considered armed and dangerous. He's a record as long as your arm. There is potentially a child in danger so be careful."

The officer spoke to Autumn again. "Can you tell me your name Madam? Is your husband still in the house. If you can speak to him, get him out of the house now." He needed to stay calm but he'd feel a whole lot better once the car got there.




An officer came to the interview room and opened the door a little.

"Collins?" he whispered before indicating for him to leave the room.

Officer Laurence Collins stood up and left the room whilst Chad looked up hopefully.

"Don't get your hopes up but they may be considering letting you out," Chad said to Sam. The storecard in the vehicle was unusual of course but it screamed 'fit-up'. Sam clearly had an enemy, the question was who?

Outside the room Officer Collins was filled in at the goings-on at the suspect's home. The situation had just been escalated significantly. He didn't believe really that Sam was responsible for the murder but they had nothing else. The appearance of his father, a known villain on the scene suggested that something far more complicated was going on. He asked to be appraised of developments, but at least he had a further lead. He re-entered the room...

He sat on the chair quietly, waiting for Sam to look up. Eventually Sam deigned to raise his head. It had been a torrid day.

"So Sam.... what can you tell me about Harvey Hanson? What's he doing at your house?"

Sam was hit by a thunderbolt. How many could he take?

"Dad????" he said confounded. He hadn't seen or heard from Dad in over a decade. What was he doing back on the scene?

"We've had report of a domestic dispute at your home involving your father. What is he doing there?"

"Louis..." Sam cried, standing up before being wrenched down by the cuffs.

"Ella..." said Chad quietly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and calling quickly

Officer Collins needed to get a grip quickly as the two men looked worried and he wasn't sure what was going on with the lawyer.

Sam tried to stand again and banged his arms on the table. The skin around his wrists tore and began to bleed as he tried to break free.

"Get to my house! Get Louis out of there. I haven't seen Dad for about fifteen years. I don't know why he's there but make sure Louis is safe!"

"Ella's there.." Chad said to both the officer and Sam, "She's my wife and was looking after Sam's son as you know. You need to tell us what's going on. She's not picking up!" he said fearful of the unknown.

'Please be alright, please be alright!' the two men thought in unison over their loved ones.
"Mr. Samuel Hanson. I am arresting you for the murder of Miss. Brooklyn Jones on Tuesday, 18th December 2017."

"You have the right to retain and instruct counsel without delay. You also have the right to free and immediate legal advice from duty counsel by...."

"I'm his lawyer." interjected Chad.

The officer paused before continuing, "You also have the right to free and immediate legal advice from duty counsel by making free telephone calls to 1-800-668-8258. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded.

"Do you wish to call a lawyer?"

"He's my lawyer," Sam mumbled, completely dumbfounded by this situation.

"You also have the right to apply for legal assistance through the provincial legal aid program. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded.

"I wish to give you the following warning: You need not say anything. You have nothing to hope from any promise or favour and nothing to fear from any threat whether or not you say anything. Anything you do or say may be used as evidence. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded.

"I wish to give you the following warning: You must clearly understand that anything said to you previously should not influence you or make you feel compelled to say anything at this time. Whatever you felt influenced or compelled to say earlier, you are now not obliged to repeat, nor are you obliged to say anything further, but whatever you do say may be given as evidence. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded as the two officers led him out of the house, cuffed and seating him in the back of the patrol car.




On the other side of the road, Mrs. Green who had been still minding her own business stood agape, staring out of the window. Recovering herself she immediately called every member of the Neighbourhood Watch Committee (and anyone else she felt should be informed..). After all, public safety was of paramount importance.




"Just sit tight Sam, just sit tight," Chad said coolly. Chad paced the room whilst Sam sat cuffed to the desk in the interview room.

"This has clearly been some kind of misunderstanding. My hunch is they have found the car that hit Brooklyn and somehow think it is connected to you."

"How on earth can they think that?" Sam cried, incredulous. "We've got a car each and they've not taken mine. What do they think I have done?"

"I don't know," Chad replied gently, "but it's important. I believe you, Ella believes you. Everyone who knows you will believe you but you have to level with me. Is there anything you haven't told me about that night, or about your relationship. I can't defend or represent you if you keep things from me."

"What the fuck Chad! I called you that night. I was at the station, I drove most of the night looking for Brooklyn. I came here the day after and told them my movements by the minute. My beautiful Brooklyn has been killed and these fucks think I'm responsible!" Sam didn't know how much more he could take. He'd not 'got over' Brooklyn, he never would, but he had found a way of dealing with the day, of getting through it. But now this...

"Cool your jets Sam," Chad said, "Now, I'm going to give you some advice. They already have a record of your movements that night. You've told them. You don't have to say anything. Nothing. But it's advisable to give your name, address, date of birth and then say nothing else. They've found some evidence, or they think they have. We'll find that out. But remember this, whenever the police question a suspect it's because they don't have enough information to make a charge stick. Speaking cannot improve your situation. Stay silent, no matter how hard you want to defend yourself. We'll learn what they've got and you'll be out of here in no time."

Sam rested his head in his hands. Not helping the police couldn't help - after all he wanted to help catch the killer but he was so confused. The very notion that he could be responsible would not register in his head.




"Sam, can you tell me your movements on the night of Tuesday 18th?"

"No comment."

"How was Brooklyn feeling the night of her death? Did you guys have a fight?"

"No comment."

"Why did it take you so long to report Brooklyn's disappearance?"

"No comment."

"Now Sam, we need to get to the bottom of this. Was she having an affair? Was you? Were you angry? I'm sure you didn't mean to kill her. We see this all the time. A lover's tiff gone badly wrong. 'Un crime passionnel'? If you only meant to scare her or hurt her the charge may be manslaughter and you'll be out sooner. Don't Brooklyn's family deserve the truth?"

Tears rolled down Sam's cheek.

"No comment."

"Can you account for your whereabouts between visiting the station and the discovery of Brooklyn that night?"

"I was driving around town looking for her like you should have you fuck!" Sam shouted, "and then I was looking after our son who had just lost his fucking mother!" he cried, spittle forming at his mouth.

"My client has already told you his movements..." Chad interjected.

"Okay Sam, we're getting somewhere. Why did you do it?"

"No comment," Sam sobbed.

After what felt like hours Sam's resolve was beginning to crack. He had nothing to hide, he had done nothing wrong. If only the police understood this. Why was Chad advising him this way?

"Look, you've got nothing on my client. He's told you everything he knows. More than once. You've no evidence whatsoever. You're clutching at straws. So, let's get this over with. Put whatever evidence you have on the table or release my client."

Chad was calm and professional. Not for the first time Sam appreciated his presence.

Officer Collins sighed and left the room. A few moments later he returned with a clear evidence bag.

"So Sam," he said sitting heavily, "can you care to explain how this was found in the burnt out vehicle that was used to kill your fiancée?"

On the table, in the clear bag was a loyalty card for 'Home Hardware'. Sam recognised the card as he'd been there often recently buying the wood, paint and tools for Louis' rocking horse. His eyes widened with horror when he saw the name on the loyalty card.

'Mr. Samuel Hanson'.
Officer Collins received the call from his counterpart in Stillcreek. He'd have liked to have said something along the lines of, 'I don't believe it' but his job was such that one never totally disbelieved anything. From believing victims, to considering the arrested pleas that they were innocent it helped to believe in the job. It helped review evidence more thoroughly. His mentor once told him, "In God We Trust, everyone else bring evidence." They were wise words because data and evidence was often irrefutable and trying to prove or disprove evidence often made a case stronger.

"Okay," he said wearily putting down the phone. His intuition screamed that this wasn't right but procedure had to be followed. They had found a lead in the murder of Miss Brooklyn Jones.




Mrs. Green was a neighbour who involved herself in everyone else's business. Living across from the street from Brooklyn and Sam she had of course been saddened by that tragedy involving the young couple and how sad it was for that poor boy raising a child on her own. This Tuesday evening she was busy keeping herself to herself when she noticed the arrival on the street.




Sam was feeding Louis after another day at work. The library had been quieter and he had been slowly able to begin to resemble a life approaching normality, at least professionally. He was tired after a long day but at least Louis bookended the day the right way. His son was his rock, his grounding that had kept him clinging onto sanity in those first horrible weeks, that helped him every day with coping with the terror of what happened to them. Sam heard the knock at the door and wondered who would be calling at that hour.

"Just a minute sweet pea," Sam said as he kissed Louis on the forehead as he left him in his high chair.

Sam answered the door and Officer Collins was stood there with another officer looking gravely on.

"Have you news? Have you found the car? Have you found who hit Brooklyn?" Sam asked, his voice agitated and excited at the possibility of movement with the case.

"Can I come in for a minute Mr. Hanson?" asked Officer Collins.

"Yes, of course you can," replied Sam. "What news do you have?"

"Mr. Hanson. Do you have anybody that can look after your son? We need you to come to the station with us," the officer replied formally.

Sam was confused. Why would he have to go to the station? Why couldn't they tell them here? What was the problem?

"I can't come right now. My Mom is working and it's nearly Louis' bed time. Can this wait until tomorrow?" Sam asked, frustration showing in his voice. He really needed to know what the police had found but he could hardly leave his son alone. Weeks had passed and no news and now they were being ridiculous.

The other officer spoke, "Mr. Hanson, if you cannot arrange childcare for your son Children's Services will look after him in the interim..."

"What the FUCK!" shouted Sam. Why on earth would they want to put Louis into care. Where these men deranged? What the FUCK was going on!

The officer moved towards Sam but Officer Collins intervened, only to say, "Call your lawyer son."




"~~~Stay there - don't say ANYTHING until Ella and I get there. Give the phone to me Sam, they can't do this now I'm engaged.~~~"

Chad was furious on the phone. He knew exactly what the police were doing and things had taken a turn for the worse.

"Ella!" he shouted to the kitchen where dinner was being prepared, "We need to go to Sam's now!" he called as he gathered his things.




In the living room of Brooklyn and Sam the officer spoke firmly and clearly. Chad and Ella were present, tears streaming in disbelief down Ella's face.

As the cold steel of the handcuffs wrapped around his wrists Sam heard those words which dragged his very soul to a pit in the deepest depths of the abyss.

"Samuel Hanson. You are under arrest for the murder of Brooklyn Jones."
No news. Silence. The police had given him nothing since they had questioned him. Sam hadn't been arrested so it seemed clear that their interest in him had gone but the fact there was nothing else going on frustrated Sam no end. He wanted the killer caught. He wanted the person who ended Brooklyn's life to face justice. Sam wanted to look the person in the eye and ask them why.

- Why were you driving so recklessly?
- Why didn't you stop?
- Why did you end the life of a Mother?

Sam had called on Chad and asked for some help.

"Chad, can you come with me to the station? I feel that they aren't looking for Brooklyn's killer. I think they'll brush me off if I go alone. I'm not good with cops. I'm worried I'll lose my temper and make things worse."

Chad was a stand-up guy. On the other end of the phone he listened to Sam's request for help. He felt privileged that Sam felt he could ask for help. He thought Sam was holding up well under the circumstances and shuddered every time he thought of Brooklyn. He'd be as lost as Sam if anything happened to Ella.

"Sure I'll come over Sam. Why don't I bring Ella over? She can look after Louis for you for an hour or two. She misses the little fella, it'll be good for her."

Sam was thankful for Chad's help. He was beginning to be become a dependable friend and really an advocate for him when he had to deal with the police.




The following day Chad and Ella had cleared their diaries and visited Sam. Ella's face was sad when she entered Sam and Brooklyn's home. She'd lost her best friend too and Sam had been too wrapped in his own grief to consider other people's suffering.

"How are you doing Sam?" Ella asked softly, her hand delicately resting on Sam's forearm.

"I'm okay," Sam said, his eyes moistening a little. He felt bad. He had a sense that somehow he blamed Ella. If Brooklyn hadn't gone over to her house that night she'd still be alive. It was ridiculous of course and Sam never said anything, but nevertheless he couldn't really face Ella. What Sam didn't know was Ella too felt irrational guilt for something completely out of her control. Ella was an attractive, fun loving woman. She was Brooklyn's best friend growing up but the three of them had been a trio really and there was room enough for all of them in their relationship. Something had left Ella too, it was like the lights had been dimmed. Something had gone from her that perhaps would never come back.

"I miss her too," replied Ella before breaking eye contact with Sam. She saw Louis playing and that gentle lilt in her voice raised a little, "Hey big man!" she said picking up the boy, "are you going to have some fun times with your Auntie Ella today?" Ella gave Louis a little kiss and settled to spoil attention on Brooklyn's little boy.




As they drove over to the police station Chad spoke to Sam of how he was getting on and how Ella was feeling.

"You know, she's not doing okay really. I'm hoping an afternoon with Louis will do her good. I know I sound selfish Sam, but I was relieved when you called. I know you've got your Mom and I know you won't want Louis out of your sight at the moment but if you ever need a baby-sitter for a few hours, call on Ella, it'll help her."

Sam nodded. "I will Chad. I'll see what I can do," Sam said. Sam was dealing with things himself and didn't really want to see Ella that much. She was a part of their triangle. Every time he saw her he'd just know that Brooklyn wasn't there. In fact he couldn't remember a time he had spent time with Ella alone - Brooklyn was always there.

At the police station Sam visited the lead officer responsible for the case. Officer Collins was the man who broke the news to Sam of Brooklyn's death. He was the officer who interrogated Sam too. He was working when Sam and Chad entered the station. His heart sank. He didn't really have to tell the men anything at this stage. They were no closer to making an arrest and technically Sam was still a suspect. Deep down Collins thought the crash was an accident. Probably some drunk. Yes, it was still a crime and a serious one but he doubted there was malice in it. The driver either didn't know what they'd done or just panicked and drove off. There was a lead on the vehicle but not much to go on...

Laurence Collins poured some coffee for the two men and made himself a cup as they sat in the office.

"I'm telling you this because I think you should know. We've a lead, a small one and I don't want you to get your hopes up."

Officer Collins took a deep breath, "So, about a mile down the road we found some residue that indicated perhaps someone accelerated quickly. That's not unusual. Kids like driving fast on that road out of town. The snow and rain that night removed anything conclusively. I think we're looking at kids playing chicken or some drunk. I know it's not easy to accept, that some reckless scumbag has done this, but it's likely not malicious."

"We've also found a fragment of the bullbar that hit your fiancée's car. We've analysed the chrome plating and powder finish. We think we've isolated the part. We find the vehicle with a bent bar of that type and we may have a clear lead. There are also olive green paint fragments and shards of a headlight that don't fit Miss. Jones' car. We find that car we find the culprit."

"The killer." Sam said firmly.

"Mr. Hanson, Sir. I have to tell you that right now we're looking at a 'Death by Dangerous Driving' charge. The culprit will likely go to jail for a long time."

"An eye for an eye. A life for a life." Sam said looking directly at the officer.

"Sam, just listen to the officer..." said Chad quietly interjecting to settle the situation.

"I understand you Mr. Hanson, but this is an accident. The culprit was driving too fast, they may have been drinking. They may not have even noticed. Feeling that it was malicious won't help you Mr. Hanson. We'll find them and they'll face justice and they'll have to look at you, your son and Miss. Jones' family and face what they'd done."

Officer Collins was sympathetic but even at this stage the chance of an arrest was remote, and getting more remote with each passing day.

Remembering that horrible shriek of Brooklyn in his head Sam stood, a little agitated.

"But what if it WASN'T an accident!" as Chad and the officer tried to ease Sam.




85 miles North-east of the sleepy town where our lover's hearts were broken a Mountie stops by a roadside leading out of a valley, surrounded by cliffs blanketed by snow capped tall evergreen pines. She pauses spotting a road traffic accident and a vehicle in a ditch. She descends down the hill and notices something rather obvious. The vehicle has been torched.

She looks over the wreck, looking for anyone needing help, but most likely remains. Not much is apparent but she can tell it was a pick-up truck once and if forensics get lucky they'll find the owner. The truck was probably stolen by kids. Not to far from the wreckage, she spots some old papers, maybe acquired to get the fire going. She kicks them with her boot and sees some receipts. In the middle of them is a store card for a popular supermarket. She peers down and see's a name. 'Looks like we've got who torched this' she smiles to herself. She takes a photo of the scene and writes a name in her book before calling it in.

'Mr. Samuel Hanson'

Sam was feeling confused. He 'knew' that Brooklyn was dead but he often glanced to the front door, expecting her to come through it and everything being normal again. He knew that emotionally he was in a long process of normalisation, rather than recovery. That didn't stop him having conversations with Brooklyn, imagining what she would say or think. Her counsel was a source of comfort in these dark days. When he wanted to stay in bed and not go to work he'd think, 'what would Brooklyn say'. When he felt so depressed he couldn't face putting on his clothes or washing he thought the same - 'what would Brooklyn say'. She would still have a presence in his life always. However that didn't change the worrying occurrence of his recently hearing her in his head. He felt he was losing grip on reality when he thought how it had occurred twice over the last few days. Brooklyn's voice was a source of comfort the first time, but the idea of her in pain haunted him. That she could still suffering beyond the grave made him feel awful.

He walked into the living room where Louis was oblivious to his Dad's precarious mental state. Sam was startled when Louis gurgled, "Mama".

Sam sat down on the play mat with his son and put his arms around the seated boy.

"You hear her too kiddo?" Sam asked as he kissed the boy on his head.

"I wonder if you babies see and hear things differently? And that you'll forget it all as you grow into a toddler, then a little boy. You'll forget...."

Sam tried to tease Louis by pulling on his rattle to take it off him, laughing as Louis pulled his hand back shaking it. They played pull and tug with each other, both smiling and laughing together. There eyes met in total love that can only happen between parent and baby.

"We'll be alright Son. Mama will be watching over us."

Sam picked his babe up and held him aloft before lying on the floor and placing the baby on his chest. Louis lifted his head up and slavered whilst smiling. The drool fell down and as Louis hid his face in Sam's chest his shirt was dampened by Junior's saliva. Louis lifted his head again and laughed. Sam hugged him firmly, yet gently and rolled the boy from side to side pretending to grapple with the boy.

"You and me champ. We can do it! We'll make Mommy proud,"

Sam played with his son and felt the love of their family coalesce together. "We are the power of three and everyone who lives here loves everyone else. Daddy, Mommy and Louis."

Sam resolved to go to the police station and try and find out what was going on. Maybe Chad would come with him? Maybe he should talk to someone about the voices? But not now, not today. This afternoon was time for Sam and Louis. Time long overdue.
Sam strummed along, enjoying the creative process of song writing and singing. It was a song for her, a tribute for his beautiful, lost love of his life. He picked up his pencil were he was scribbling the lyrics to the song when the words 'Brooklyn's Gone' were at the forefront of his mind and he remembered that old folk song, 'Delia's Gone'. The latter song was about a young murder victim, a little girl barely in her teens. The song was ruined, at least for the moment as he considered whether the song or lyrics were close to the other song. He couldn't have a song about Brooklyn having connotations of a cruel murder in his mind. Then he heard her voice.

"IT WASN'T AN ACCIDENT!"

He felt very frightened, very quickly. He heard, not audibly but clear in his mind Brooklyn's desperate scream. She sounded so terrified, like she needed him, like she wanted him with her. It was like a knitting needle boring into his brain, a sharp pain, like a whistle in the ear.

"B..b...bbrrooklyn?" he whispered, looking around the room. He felt the walls close in around him and suddenly felt he was being watched. Not by Brooklyn, but some malevolent force that was hurting her, torturing her. He'd never, in all their years together heard that tone in her voice but there was no mistake, it was Brooklyn.

"Are...are you okay?" he said tentatively, his voice trembling. He placed his guitar down and slowly walked to the kitchen, turning his shoulder to see if anyone really was there. He drank a glass of water and drained it quickly, he thought he was coping, he really did. The days were getting easier and better and now when he thought he could hold it together he was hearing voices in his head.

"I miss you," he said quietly.

He knew his mind was playing tricks on him. The song, he'd appropriated it from somewhere else at the back of his mind and now he was thinking that the accident wasn't an accident and was deliberate. He wanted the bastard who did it caught but now, his mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour. What if his mind was reacting to another perspective? What if someone had actually intended to hurt Brooklyn. That was worse, far worse but he was unable to reconcile it. There wasn't a single person in the world who wanted to hurt Brooklyn. She had no enemies in the world and neither had he. His mind was wrong, he'd imagined her voice. It was an accident.




The man sat at the wheel of his pick-up truck, his head hunched over the steering wheel. He drained his beer - his tenth of the day and snarled,

"I'll get the bitch."

"I'll show her pain."

He'd waited over a decade for this moment. He had lost so much. A home. A wife and family. She snooped and investigated to far. She wouldn't let it lie. She wouldn't drop it after all he promised her what would happen. For that she would pay. Brooklyn Jones would die.

He'd watched their movements, knew everything about her. That fucking perfect family. She hardly ever left the house but the years had taught him to be patient. He waited.

When opportunity knocks a man has to take it. He'd saw her set off without a care in the world. He was used to living in the shadows and not being noticed. He shuffled quickly to his truck and kept his distance. He knew where she was going - it was obvious. He overtook her on the road, the snow falling heavily and speeded a mile down the road. He turned the vehicle around and began to rev the engine.

He slipped through the gears quickly, accelerating faster and faster. He knew there was only her on the road. Faster, faster, faster. A man's life depends on the decisions he makes and this was the point of no return.

"FUCK YOU!" he shouted as the bull bar smashed into the side of the small town car. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the car spin and he laughed. "Fuck You."

The next day Sam noticed something he hadn't noticed much in the last few weeks. Winter sunshine in the morning. It was a bright Sunday and still very cold. Louis hadn't been having much fun recently going through a breakfast - day care - home - bed routine. Following his reflection on the bathroom floor the previous day Sam woke up much more alert than he had been previously. He felt guilty thinking about a 'new Dawn' but he let it pass. He couldn't and wouldn't be sad forever. He wrapped Louis up warm with his winter coat, hat and mittens and drove out to woodland trail and picnic site. It was disabled and pram friendly so Sam was able to push Louis in his stroller and they had a good walk on the trails. Sam loved the crunch of the wheels of the stroller as they cracked the hard frost, the blades of grass looking like thin white matchsticks. He looked up at the sun shining through the branches of the trees, still bare and weeks from the first buds of spring. He looked between the spaces of the branches and saw the light in a completely different perspective. He felt like he believed in Heaven and Brooklyn was there watching them all the time.

Sam saw a stick on the ground and picked it up. They walked a little further on and Sam saw what he was looking for. A patch of hard dried mud, which in summer would be squelching and difficult to walk in without one's feet sinking.

Sam stopped the stroller on the path and scratched in a little message.



If Brooklyn was watching she'd see it and know that they were thinking of her and that they were okay. Sam blew a kiss to the sky and even though the next rain or snow would remove the message he felt happy that he'd left something there for her. For the briefest of moments Sam allowed himself a smile.

When Sam got home he gave Louis his lunch and when junior went for his afternoon nap Sam did something for the first time since Brooklyn went out that night - he picked up his guitar.

Sam wasn't the greatest singer or lyricist but he strummed slowly and felt somewhere there was a song, a song for Brooklyn...

'Now she's gone, now she's gone, Brooklyn's gone away,
I only wished I had one more day,
but Brooklyn's gone...'

'Fast asleep, resting now, to early to move on,
But I see her every day, in our son,
Brooklyn's gone.'

'She never got a chance to pull through,
but each new dawn I knew, that I loved you,
Brooklyn's gone.'


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