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edupunkn00b · 8 months

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Decoherence, Ch. 6: I Howl

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“in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night” -Howl by Alan Ginsberg

WC: 3318 - Rating: T - CW: swearing -

1980, August 16, Astoria, NYC, US

An express train barrelled down the elevated track outside Remus’ apartment, rattling the windows and the bookcases’ glass doors. It was an effective alarm.

Remus stretched before he opened his eyes, moving carefully so he didn’t jostle… who the fuck was he being careful about? His empty bed? His eyes snapped open and he squinted against the sun that shot right through the big window in his fifth-floor walkup. He’d forgotten to close the blinds again.

Didn’t matter much. Facing the train tracks, the only view into his apartment would require flying twenty feet above them, and the developer of his building was the only one dumb enough to build so close to the elevated tracks. On the other side was the East River and if some horny ass tourist on the cruise lines wanted to waste their time trying to catch a glimpse of him in the buff as he got out of bed in the morning, more power to them.

Now that he was up, the sun was kinda nice. It was gonna be a scorcher, sure, but the morning was still cool, and he could enjoy the gentle heat coming up over the water.

Entire days can be cool and fresh like this. Golden morning light spreads over a grassy field, brightening the plains and painting color over the mass of dark brown brush and scraggly trees. Rich yellows and greens fill the landscape. And spots of bright white and silver dot the clover patch next to the creek, meandering sheep munching the fresh growth as Virgil keeps watch.

“He’s so proud to have his task,” the raven-haired man next to me murmurs, taking my hand. His skin is soft in my callused hand, but still strong. Lithe with a steady grip.

“Mm-hm,” I nod and raise his hand to my lips for a kiss. He laughs when I tickle his knuckles with my mustache, big baritone bells ringing out. I look up, but before I can meet his eyes, he disappears and I’m left standing alone on a big, wooden porch.

Virgil waves from the clover field and calls out to me, but his words are lost to the wind.

Shaking his head, Remus’ eyes snapped open. Fucking dream. He watched the shadows from the train tracks shrink for a little while, then his clock radio crackled to life, the DJ announcing the greatest hits of the 60s, 70s, and today and blaring out that new Queen song.

Before he’d even registered what he was doing, Remus had made the bed, diligently fluffing up the pillows and arranging them artfully against the headboard. Frowning, he kicked aside the jeans he’d thrown on the floor last night and shuffled into the bathroom to start a shower. Once the water was hot, he stepped inside and let the spray and the steam melt away the fuzzy remnants of a ranch he’d never seen and a husband he sure as fuck didn’t have.

No more late night t.v. for him.

The phone in the lab was already on the fourth ring by the time he got the triple-locked door open. “Hello?” he said, fumbling with the receiver, hoping to catch it before they gave up.

“Good morning, Re!” Ro’s husband cheered over the line. There was a muffled sound, doing little to hide his little sing-song away from the receiver. “Kiddo, finish up your milk, okay? Then Papa will walk you to school.”

“So that’s how you’ve got him growing like a weed,” Remus laughed and took a sip of his coffee. The lab assistant had left a stack of files on his chair, an annoyingly effective habit to get him to approve them when he first got in. He cleared the chair then sat down, opening the top in the stack. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Pattycake?”

“Janus was wondering if you have a preference for dinner tonight. He was thinking manicotti.” The sound of dishes and running water punctuated his words, as did a little kiss. “Have a good day, Kiddo!”

“Uh-huh, Janus wanted to know what I felt like eating?” Remus shook his head, a smile still pulling up his cheeks. He signed the requisition form on the first file then moved to the next. “And this isn’t Ro trying to make sure I show up tonight?”

Patton giggled and spoke away from the phone. “I told you he’d see right through it,” he said. There was another muffled staticy sound and the telltale crick of a phone cord being untangled before his brother’s voice poured over the line.

“Can you blame me for wanting to see my little brother?” Ro muttered in mock offense. “Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time you stood us up.”

“That was one time sixteen years ago!” Remus protested. “You weren’t even married yet!” The silence on the other end told him just how much Ro cared about that technicality. “I’ll be there, I swear…” His voice trailed off as the words single photon wave interference pattern popped out in the third proposal’s abstract. A team wanted to test their theory on wave field probabilities. They just needed to find some funding for a trip to CERN.

“Hel-lo-o? Re?” A tinny version of Ro’s voice came from his lap and he realized he’d dropped the phone receiver as he was reading.

“Yeah, yeah… Ro,” he fumbled to retrieve the receiver and pressed it to his ear, still reading the research proposal. “I’m here, just dropped the phone. Listen, uh, Lo and I have something to check out and then we’ll be by at six.”

“Who?”

“What?” Remus’ head jerked up, the proposal had snagged his attention and didn’t want to let go. “I said I’ll be at your house by six o’clock, wouldn’t miss it.”

“O—okay, great,” Ro said slowly. “See you tonight.”

“Mm-hm, see ya, Ro Bro,” Remus managed to get out before blindly hanging up the phone. It took a few tries but he finally got the receiver set back on the plunger and the blap-blap-blap-blap stopped. Mouth agape, he read the entire proposal, nodding and making little notes in the margins as he went. He moved it to the top of the stack of files he planned to bring before the board that afternoon.

He’d get them their trip to Geneva.

Tasha rapped on the open door. “Dr. Prince ? I’m headed out,” she said. “Are you still visiting your brother this evening?”

“Hm?” Remus stopped writing long enough to turn and face her. She tapped her watch. “It’s a quarter to six,” she smiled.

Remus dropped his chalk and dusted off his hands. “Oh fuck, we’re late!” He snagged the chalk before it rolled under his desk and scrawled three more symbols on the board, circling them, then absently stuck the chalk in his pocket and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “You ready, Lo?” he asked, fishing through the bag slung over his shoulder. His hand came up with the keys to his office and a polished gold ring. Remus froze, staring down at his palm.

“Dr. Prince ?” Tasha stepped closer. “Are you…” She looked around the small office. With the rolling chalkboard pulled away from its usual spot against the wall, there was scarcely enough room to move between his desk and his files, nor the stacks of treatises and books on the floor. “Were you meeting with someone?”

He closed his hand around his keys and the ring and pushed in the desk chair, his one concession to the judgement in her gaze. The office was… well, it wasn’t neat by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a known chaos, and Remus could tell you what every stack of books, every collection of journals, every half-smudged calculation that had run off the edge of a page meant. Tasha had long ago stopped nudging him to make it look organized.

He looked around the office now and everything was in the right place, but… his eyes lingered over his big desk set in the corner with the two chairs. Hey, extra place for Tasha to leave files for him. He’d even remembered to draw the shade on the big window, but that had mostly been to protect his eyes against the glare of the setting sun.

Everything was in its place. But everything was wrong.

“No,” he said at last, shoving his keys and the ring into his pocket. “Long day, I guess,” he mumbled, fighting to shake off the sense that something was… off. “Would you mind locking up?” He flashed her a crooked grin. “I know you have a key.”

“You don’t actually expect me to let you leave your half-drunk coffees to molder all over your desk, do you?” she laughed, pulling the door closed behind them and locking all three locks.

“Thank you,” Remus nodded and pushed the stairwell door open. “I’m gonna walk down. Work some muscles besides the one up here,” he tapped his temple and jogged down the steps, his fast shuffle echoing against the cement and cinderblock stairwell.

“Goodnight!” Tasha called after him, her voice abruptly cut off by the closing door. He stopped on the landing between floors and pulled the ring from his pocket to hold up to the caged bulb that cast a harsh glare up and down the stairs. The ring was smooth and warm from his pocket. Too small for his own finger but… He tapped his sternum, thinking. After a moment, he shook away the imagined sense of another ring under his shirt, round and smooth like this one, the metal warm against his skin.

What the fuck was he doing with this ring? It didn’t look anything like Ro’s and his partners’ rings. Their rings all matched each other, some cutesy little three-strand braid things. This one, though… He knew this ring but…

Shaking his head, he shoved it back in his pocket and dashed down the remaining three flights. Luckily, Ro’s place wasn’t far from the University.

“Uncka Re!” Virgil’s little shout was audible through Ro’s apartment door. “I’w get it, I’w get it!” Remus threw his head back and laughed, the cold knot in his stomach unfurling at the sound of the little boy’s exuberance.

“Kiddo, we don’t even know—”

“Yeah, Pattycake, it’s me,” he called from the hall and repeated his knock, three quick and two slow. “Vee knows.” At the sound of the locks disengaging, Remus set down the bag from La Guli’s, crouched and opened his arms wide.

As soon as the door opened, Virgil barreled out from the doorway and flung himself into Remus’ arms. “Uncka Re!” he squeezed his little arms around his neck and Remus stood, lifting Virgil with him. “I was scared I wouldn’t see you tonight.”

“Nothing could keep me away from my favorite nephew!” he promised, raising him up over his head and laughing along with his delighted giggle. “Besides,” he winked at Patton, grinning from the doorway. Remus picked up the brown paper bag he’d set by the door. “Somebody had to bring the cannolis!”

Virgil’s eyes widened and he grinned hopefully at Patton. “Can we, Poppy? Can we have them with dinner?”

“Yeah, Poppy,” Remus joined in, mimicking Virgil’s pleading eyes. “Can we?”

“Just like your brother,” Patton laughed, ushering both Remus and Virgil into the house. “Yes, we’ll have the cannolis tonight—”

“Yes!” Virgil erupted in a cheer and wiggled out of Remus’ arms and dragged him toward his room. “C’mon, Uncka Re, wet’s p’ay.”

“For dessert!” Patton called after them, shaking his head with another little laugh when Remus’ only response was a grin and a shrug. ~

After dinner, Remus helped Roman clean up while Patton and Janus tag teamed getting the four-year-old bundle of energy ready for bed. He dried while his brother washed, fiddling with the small gold ring in his pocket while he waited for Ro to rinse each dish.

A particularly sudsy one slipped from Ro’s hands and Remus leapt to help catch it. He caught the baking dish before it hit the floor and shattered but the ring fell from his pocket. It rolled across the floor and spun like a top under an empty chair before settling onto the linoleum with a final jingle.

Remus rushed to pick it up. Sitting on the floor, he rubbed the ring between his thumb and forefinger and his eyes suddenly widened. “It’s Lo’s,” he whispered, more to himself than to his brother.

Leaning against the table leg, he sat on the floor, legs criss-crossed, and fumbled under his shirt before pulling out a thin gold chain that carried a matching band. “I don’t wear mine because I’d always drop it down the sink when I washed the dishes.”

He looked up when Roman joined him, brow furrowed in confusion. And worry.

“Lo and I had to buy our own pipe wrench because Mr. Singh threatened to make us pay to borrow his every time we had to take apart the sink to get it out.”

“Re, what are you talking about?” He reached for his brother’s hand and there was nothing around his neck. “Hey listen,” Ro began in his reasonable voice. “Why don’t you spend the night?” He pulled Remus to his feet then steered him out of the kitchen and down the hall to the living room. “We’ll have some tea or hot chocolate or whatever you want. I’ll make up the sofa bed and you can have an early night.”

He let himself be led, patting his chest. There wasn’t anything under his shirt. “Maybe… yeah,” he said, sinking down into a chair.

“Jus’ wanna say goodnight!” Virgil’s laugh dopplered down the hall and the rubber-bottomed soles of his fuzzy Spider-Man onesie squeaked as he scampered back to the living room. He climbed onto Remus’ lap and smiled up at him. “Are you staying?” he asked, patting the collar of Remus’ shirt the way his uncle had just a moment ago. He frowned, just a flash, then he looked up again with a sleepy little smile.

“I’m staying,” he said and the little boy’s grin grew.

He flung both arms around Remus’ neck, little fingers twisted in his shirt, and whispered, “Good.”

Janus’ quiet murmur from the other hall loosened Virgil’s grip on Remus’ shirt. “If you go to sleep early enough you two can even have breakfast together,” he promised. Remus didn’t miss the way Janus caught Ro’s eye as he scooped up the little boy. Ro nodded and moved closer.

“Poppy’s making french toast tomorrow, too.” Roman ruffled Virgil’s hair and grinned at his little giggle. “See you in the morning, little knight.”

“G’night, Daddy,” Virgil said and rested his head on Janus’ shoulder. The little boy’s race down the hall seemed to have been his last hurrah for the night and he blinked sleepily at Remus. “G’night, Uncka Re.” His sleepy gaze drifted to the spot next to Remus and he frowned again, a soft, worried pout, before curling into Janus’ arms.

“I’ll see you two once this little spider is asleep,” Janus murmured, stroking his head. “I don’t think you’ll have long to wait.” He waggled his fingers and murmured as they moved down the hall. “What story would you like to hear tonight, my little spiderling?”

“The chameyeon, Papa,” his soft voice traveled down the hall.

“Hmm… that’s a good one,” Janus’ low voice purred just before the door clicked shut.

Roman snapped the sheet open and over the pullout mattress. It caught on the side table’s edge and Remus got up to help. They worked in silence for a few minutes before Roman spoke again. “You haven’t sounded like this in a long time, little brother.”

“Yeah.” Remus lifted the mattress to tuck the blanket underneath it.

Roman watched him for another long moment. “What brought this on? You…” He folded the sheet over the top edge of the blanket and glanced up. “You haven’t been drinking, have you?”

“Fuck no!” he hissed. “Of course not.”

“Okay,” Roman reached over the bed and clasped his shoulder. “Okay, I didn’t mean anything by it, just… you know… The last time…”

Ro didn’t need to remind him the first time he drank he’d woken him up screaming the world was wrong and had gone off on a week-long bender. He still didn’t remember most of it. “I don’t fucking drink anymore.”

“I—I know that, Re, I just…” Ro went quiet again, stuffing a pillow into a fresh case. “That was the last time you sounded like this, man.”

“I…” He couldn’t meet his brother’s eyes. “I had a ring, Ro. Not… not just this one.” He closed his fingers around the bit of gold, the hard metal proof he hadn’t imagined it all. Or at least hadn’t imagined the fucking ring. “This other one, though… I—I can’t remember where it came from, it just…”

He closed his eyes and blew out a sharp breath. Probably some one night stand. You really that bad, Re, that you can’t remember who you slept with the night before?

A flash of indignant anger shot through his chest at his own imagined voice and he shook his head. “Re?” Ro’d been watching him.

He sank down on the side of the pull-out bed, metal frame squeaking with his movement. Ro came over to his side and sat next to him. “What can you remember?” When Remus didn’t answer, Ro squeezed his hand. “I’m your brother, Re, you can talk to me.”

Remus looked up into his brother’s eyes. He wanted to tell him everything. Tell him about the flashes of dreams that didn’t feel like dreams anymore. That fucked up not-quite deja vous when he got to work or took a shower or….

The empty arms and the gnawing, gaping hole he woke up to every morning.

“I…”

Janus walked down the hall and joined them, sitting quietly at his other side. He took his other hand and patted it, eyes full of sympathy.

“I think maybe I’m just overdoing it at work,” he finally said, giving first his brother, then Janus a weak smile. “You know how I get.”

Ro looked at him for a long moment then finally nodded. “Okay, Re.” He squeezed Janus’ hand and they exchanged a little look. “Get some sleep and we can talk more in the morning.” Ro and Janus stood as one and he gave Remus’ hand one more squeeze before slowly releasing his grip.

“Thanks,” he muttered and managed to give them both a smile before peeling back the covers. Patton appeared with a cup of tea and a pair of Ro’s pajama pants and an old Brooklyn College tee shirt. “Can’t believe you still have this, Ro Bro!”

“What can I say?” he winked, a touch of actual humor in his smile. “It’s my color.” Remus held up the shirt and the faded logo morphed into a frosted glass door, Brooklyn College Physics Department. He blinked away the vision. He hadn’t gone to Brooklyn. He’d gone to UAF.

Patton set the cup down on the side table and gave him a half hug. “Go on and get changed so you’re comfortable.” He exchanged another little look with Janus and Ro. “We’ll leave the lamp on so you don’t have to make your way through the dark.”

“Thanks Pattycake.” He stood and smiled at the worry they tried to hide in their eyes. “I’ll be fine, just need a little sleep.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “And I heard the morning might bring French toast?”

“You betcha,” Patton grinned, smile bright. He still didn’t lose the little pinch between his eyebrows, though. “Good night then,” he nodded and walked with Janus down the hall.

Ro lingered and pulled Remus into a hug. “Tomorrow we talk, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he promised. “Tomorrow.”

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theesirenteller · 3 months

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Domesticated | Unqiue

🅳🅴🆂🅲🆁🅸🅿🆃🅸🅾🅽

After the passing of his child's mother, Kadeem Mathis better known in the streets as 'Unique or Nique'; has taken on the role of being a full-time parent. Which causes more difficulties rather than smooth sailing, A full time caregiver for his son and new home in Astoria, Queens is needed. What starts off as simply business quickly turns personal when the tender love & care of a woman warms his once hollow heart.

Michel'le couldn't believe that she had gotten the job. She wasn't expecting it so it came as a positive surprise. ‘One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.’ she thought to herself when she had gotten the news from Jasmine, three days after her interview. Upon getting her employment contract and filling out the proper paperwork, Michel'le was given instructions from Jasmine to wait outside of her current residence to be picked up by a man named Worrell. Any belongings could be brought with her as the employer had an area in the home where she would be staying permanently. A new home.

She tried not to grow anxious at the thought of being in a new space. And instead spent her time cleaning out her studio apartment. It was about the size of an average living room but with more closet space. She loved what she called her ‘hobbit hole’. The only door was the front door. She'd removed the bathroom and closet doors when she first moved in and instead replaced them with beaded curtains. Majority of her apartment was just filled with books, cds, a boom box, with a twin sized mattress by the window. So cleaning out the place meant using her laundry cart to transport books to the library to donate and going back home. She'd taken a total of six trips before she had fully finished.

Now, after a much needed bath. Michel'le stood in her apartment in a black long sleeved bodysuit and fuzzy black socks on her feet. Her hair clipped into a low messy-bun by a claw clip. The two black leather suitcases that she arrived in New York with were a bit beaten down and now used once again for her to pack away her articles of clothing. A burnt orange Nike backpack was packed with the books and CDs she did keep which were; Misery by Stephen King, Mastering the Art of French Cooking

Book by Julia Child, Hannibal by Thomas Harris, Two Led Zeppelin CDs, One Frank Sinatra, Billie Holiday, and Etta James CDs. She had her collection of her dearest items safely tucked away.

Her autumn brown eyes flickered to the clock that sat on her kitchen counter. 10:00 a.m. Worrell would be at her apartment in fifteen minutes. Michel'le arose from her old bed and grasped the pair of fleece-lined joggers that she set aside to travel in. Her feet then slipped into her leather boots that she wore daily like a second pair of feet. Once her heavy coat was layered on, she collected her things and gave her ’hobbit hole’ one last look before leaving to start a new beginning.

Michel'le stood out of the vintage brown six-story building with her bags in front of her. The weather was worse than the North Pole, she was convinced. A bitter cold was in the New York air but luckily for her there wasn't any snow. Being cold was one thing. But being cold and wet was another type of pain. Soon but not soon enough, a white mustang pulled into the block and slowed down near her. She recognized the same man in the driver's seat as the one who had taken her coat off for her at the interview. The man gave a head nod in her direction as he pulled up and in return, Michel'le waved awkwardly back.

“Aye, you Michele right? I'm Worrell. We met at the diner.” He greeted the moment he had gotten out of the vehicle.

“It's Michel'le, not Michele.” She quickly corrected, her words rushing out so fast that they had mushed together,“But uh yeah um we did.” It had nothing to do with him personally, but she felt uneasy. Perhaps she would've preferred to be given the address so that she could take a cab alone. If not that, she would have been comfortable with Kadeem picking her up. Or her supervisor, Jasmine. Some familiarity would have been more comforting.

“Oh my bad.” He apologized before taking her bags from the ground and loading them into the trunk of his car, “This all ya stuff?” Worrell asked with a raised brow. He thought women had more clothing items and accessories than men. But then again the woman before him looked like someone from a convent or some modest wife of a bishop. How she had gotten hired looking like a member of the children of the corn still blew his mind. Her scattered attention, the way she moved her eyes so quickly, or would look at the ground made Worrell feel a little uneasy. But he kept things brief and opened the passenger door for her.

“Thanks.” Michel'le said as she slipped in and buckled up. The warmth of the car heater brought her relief.The earphones that hung around her neck like a necklace were soon put on her ears when Worrell got in and started up the engine. As he did so, Michel'le pulled her cd player from her coat pocket and pressed play. ‘Drive Me Insane Trouble Is Gonna Come To You

One Of These Days And It Won't Be Long

You'll Look For Me But Baby I'll Be Gone

This Is All I Gotta Say To You Woman:

Your Time Is Gonna Come

Your Time Is Gonna Come’

The electric guitar and the leader's soulful voice easily detached Michel'le from reality. Drowning herself in the artist's pain and feeling the bass of the instruments against her skin made the ride more digestible. Her eyes stayed fixed on watching the scenery that they bypassed through the window. She hadn't meant to but Michel'le had doze off during the ride at some point because she had been awoken by Worrell shaking her shoulder. Her eyes opened wide and she rugged off her headphones as she looked at him confused, “Why are we at the Brooklyn library?”

“Nique picking you up.”Worrell replied shortly.

From the side mirror, Michel'le saw a Black BMW pull up behind Worell's White Mustang. Kadeem's tall frame soon came out in a black chinchilla with a matching black velour tracksuit. He looked like a million bucks. And Michel'le's stomach had done a few flips when she saw him. Both Worrell and Michel'le then proceeded to get out the car.

“Sup, Michel'le. How you feelin, babygirl?” Kadeem greeted her with a suavé tone and gentle smile. Perhaps it was her timid nature that made him want to be kind to her. Handle her with a bit of gentleness that he didn't care to give to others.

The corners of her lips curled up as a smile stretched across her lips as her face warmed, “H-hi! I'm cool, thanks.”

Her bashfulness caused Kadeem to chuckle as he opened the passenger door of his BMW for her.”Hey, how's Jerome doing today?” Her checking in on Jerome and just the fact that she remembered his name made his infectiously-beautiful smile slide across his lips.

The man turned into silly putty when it came to his son, “He straight, you'll meet him soon.” he replied as he closed the door. Kadeem then proceeded to walk around the car and met Worell halfway to his driver's side. As he had done so, Michel'le admired him. The way he wore his clothing and walked. Minor details about him she studied in her mind as she drank him in. Butterflies danced in her stomach as she gazed at him. He was like a dream physically manifested into reality. His nose scrunched as his lip curled in what could only be perceived as distaste at whatever Worell had told him. His distasteful look slowly started to turn sinister before Michel'le’s eyes. His large hands that were adorned with chunky gold fingers balled into fists. The way his broad shoulders hunched forward as his lips moved quickly gave Michel'le the impression he gave a harsh order before he slid into the driver's seat.

“My bad.” He apologized for the wait as he kept his eyes forward. His tone was sharp but the pressure his foot put against the gas pedal was harsher. His driving wasn't reckless but it was faster than the speed limit. Michel'le had to grasp onto the console and take a breath out her nose to calm herself from going into an anxiety attack. As he took jagged turns through different streets, Michel'le gulped dryly as she mustered up the courage to make small-talk. But, Kadeem had spoken first.

“I hate mess and niggas these days is real messy.” He spat. Hatred seething from his words as he spoke. “So I'd appreciate it if you don't bring no messes into my crib,” his attention briefly brushed to her before he turned his attention back on the road.

Michel'le gulped dryly as she nodded, “I can do that.” she decided it was now that was the right time to ask her question, “Why didn't Worell take me all the way to your house? I mean…isn't this a bit out of your way?”

“Nah, it's not.” He replied shortly. Nobody needed to know where he laid his head at, Worell included. Kadeem had made that mistake before letting his crew get comfortable with knowing where he resided. He always said he trusted nobody but having someone near or aware of his sacred space was trust. Women and children were supposed to be off limits but Kadeem knew all too well that not many followed those rules in the game. Anywhere Jerome was, nobody Kadeem didn't trust could be.

Michel'le couldn't help but gawk at the home that resembled a mini-mansion as soon as the pair arrived. The home was a two-story dark sienna-brown Tuscan style brick house with black exterior trim around the front door and large windows. Homes a few sizes smaller were located along both sides of the home with large bright-green trees and clean, crisp lawns. Kadeem had opened the passenger-side door and Michel'le gawked at the neighborhood as she had gotten out. “This area is really nice.”

“Mhm, real quiet too.” Kadeem agreed as he had gotten her bags. He had led her to the front of the home and the front door had been opened by his mother, Sheronda.

The elder woman and Michel'le gawked at one another. One with a wide-eyed gaze and the other sizing-up the younger woman. Kadeem had her same complexion, eye shape, and nose. This was clearly his mother from what Michel’le could see, “Hello, I'm Michel-”

“I know. From the agency.” Sheronda’s tone was anything but welcoming. And Michel'le quickly stuffed her extended hand back into her coat pocket and moved her gaze down to her feet.

“Ma, watch out. Michel'le, come on.” Kadeem said with a smack of his lips, he moved past the two woman, carrying the suitcases in his hands. Michel'le quickly followed behind him while mumbling lowly “Excuse me,” to his mother.

The foyer of the home was a deep shade of chocolate brown with hints of cherry-red mixed in. It matched the dark oak wood accents. A large burnt orange runner on the floor had hand-painted brown leafs that looked like ending of Autumn. “I made sure you got your own spot,” Kadeem informed as he walked up the oak staircase.

“Thanks.''Michel'le timidly whispered as she quickly followed his lead.

They’d made it to the third floor, which at a glance looked like an antic. The door was made of wood and was blank. But when Kadeem had unlocked it and led her inside, the view was immaculate. What may have been viewed as simple or modest to some, was amazing to her.

The floors were freshly waxed cherrywood, the wide open spaced area was styled with earth-toned furniture. In the center of the room was a large vanilla-cream colored sheepskin rug. Which had a matching vanilla-cream and cappuccino colored loveseat that was made of cedarwood and egyptian cotton. A low level mocha-brown tea table sat a few feet away from it. A porcelain tea set and a stack of JET magazines sat in the center of the table. Two leather chestnut chairs sat opposite of everything. And a wooden chest was placed against the wall with a Tv seated upon it. To the far left was a hand crafted wooden vanity with a uniquely shaped mirror that resembled moving water. In the shape of a wave.The large windows smack dab in the middle of the room was a large circular shape that gave the area a heavenly sunset glaze. Steps were created along with a platform off to the far left and laid on top of it all was a queen size bed with fresh sheets and duvet that looked like clouds. The table in front of it looked hand crafted with it brown, beige, and peach detailing and smooth, shiny overglaze.

“So…you fuck wit it-” Kadeem hadn't expected to be engulfed in a hug. Her soft and chunky arms pressed against his sides. His chest was warmed by the fullness of her breasts. It was slightly off-putting to him to encounter raw emotion up close and personal. Out of his norm. But he didn't decline it. Instead, he wrapped both of his arms around her shoulders with his gold ring-covered fingers pressed against the center of her back, “you good, sweetheart?”

His honey-bourbon cologne overlapped Michel’le as she hugged him. His smokey voice that prickled against her ear caused goosebumps to form at the side of her neck. The warmth that radiated off of him felt like being drunk in by the sun. The morning sunshine reflected off of the grill that graced his teeth,“y-yeah…” she squeaked as she slowly pulled back, “This is just really nice and I’m grateful for it.” Looking into Kadeem’s eyes, Michel’le could now relate to the term ‘getting lost in his eyes’ that so many romance novels described.

His hands smoothed down her shoulders as Kadeem smiled when looking down at her. The corners of his lips held a slight curve as he smirked. His lips slowly started to spread but before he could utter a word, a cough echoed from behind the two. Which had caused Kadeem to drop his hands off of Michel’le’s body. He turned his neck and looked over his shoulder, “Sup mama?”

“Let her get settled in so I can show her Jerome and his routine before I leave.”Sheronda said with a sharp tone. She sizes up the two before side-eyeing Kadeem as he joins her outside the room. “Don’t be too long. We’ll be on the first floor, first door to the left.” She ordered Michael's before closing the door.

“Lil nigga you ain’t slick.”Sheronda smacked her palm against the back of Kadeem neck.

“Lady, I’m just doin what you asked.” He chuckles as the two of them make their way down the staircase.

Meanwhile on the other side of the door, Michel’le looked around at everything once more before she rolled her suitcases towards a closet. She then chose to leave them within the closet for the time being. Her coat was soon removed before she had taken out her medical bag. What once held gauzes, hypertension medication, and adult diapers now held; Infant acetaminophen. rectal thermometer, a nasal aspirator, saline drops, bandages and antibiotic ointment disinfectant, as well as gas drops. An infant herbal aide book was tucked securely at the very top of the bag. Now feeling much more prepared with her bag in hand, Michel’le made her way out of her new room and headed downstairs.

The living room wasn’t what she had expected. It was far brighter and more welcoming. The whole interior was a creamy beige color with accents of vibrant orange and hints of green from the plants that were cascaded around various tops of furniture. Kadeem had been seated upon the leather orange loveseat while his mother sat beside him with Jerome in her lap. Michel’le had taken a seat on a brown swivel chair that was across from them. She couldn't peel her eyes away from the swaddled up infant within his grandmother's arms. He was more beautiful in person and slept soundlessly with a small pout across his lips, from what she could see. Over the course of half an hour Sheronda walked her through Jerome’s daily routine. She shared his medical paperwork and amongst that time Michel’le learned that Jerome had a weak immune system due to fighting of a pneumonia a few months prior. So, he needed his daily does of vitamins. Which also meant he had the runs often.

Michel’le had frowned as the news as she felr bad for the child. She knew health issues too well and it hurt that a child so young was experiencing them. When she finally had gotten a chance to hold him, her hands were calmly. Luckily, he couldn't feel them through the blanket. Her knees unnoticeably shook as she held him in front of her. Michel’le didn’t know what it was about babies exactly that got her nervous. But if she took a wild guess, shes say it was the fact that they were so small and fragile. Fragility made her nervous. But then again, just about everything made her nervous.

As she held him in her hands, she leaned in and whispered,”Hi Jerome, I'm Michel’le.” as if they were sharing a secret. His soft coos as his big brown eyes stared into hers made her feel as though he was saying ‘Hi’ back.

From a few away, Kadeem couldn't help but crack a smile at the sight. It was cute. For lack of a deeper explanation.

Sheronda had allowed Michel’le to continue to hold Jerome so that he would get familiar with her. While Sheronda had given a tour of the home, Michel”le held onto the baby as if he were made of porcelain. His head nuzzled against her breast as her hand gently laid against the back of his head as Michel’le was escorted around the kitchen. The walls and cabinets were painted a vibrant shade of orange. Large, exotic plants were scattered around various corners. “This is really nice.” she murmured lowly.

“Yeah? Make sure you keep it that way.” Sheronda replied.

“Ma, I’ll be back!” Kadeem’s voice boomer through the home before the sound of the door closing followed behind.

“Get used to a lot of that. He won’t be here much so just make sure Jerome is good and this house is spotless.” Sheronda sized up Michel’le with her eyes, “No more. No less.” Despite Sheronda’s warning, something told her that her words would fall on deaf ears.

But in the beginning she was right. Michel’le barely saw Kadeem for the next three weeks. Usually it wasn't longer than three hours in the early morning or just after midnight. She followed his mothers recipes and always left his plate of food inside the fridge wrapped in aluminum foil.

Her job was blissful. Michel’le wasn’t a stranger to cleaning so she went through the rooms swiftly and kept things shiny and tidy. Expect for Kadeem’s room. He forbid her to enter it and would leave his laundry basket out his door when he needed his clothes clean. Specific instructions for certain articles of clothing. What he called his ‘meeting’ room was quite an interesting space. It was smaller, it if not the smallest room in the house. Dark interior walls with large paintings in orange and a beige and brown animal print rug. His desk drawers were locked and Michel’le only dusted the area and cleaned the rug. There wasn't much else to do in that room.

Jerome was a sweet baby once he had warmed up to her. Miss.Sheronda had told her to not pick him up too much but Michel’le couldnt help but to pick him up often. His sudden cries would make her wince or flinch and she had just wanted to ease his stress or discomfort. Sometimes he would cry despite not needing to be changed or fed, so she would cuddle and talk to him until he returned to a state of comfortability once again. This morning was no different. On Monday, at 6:30 a.m. Michel’le had finished cooking herself breakfast when he began crying again. He’d only been asleep for half an hour before awakening again.

“Oh geez.” She whispered frantically as she swiftly had gotten up and rushed into the living room. Reaching for the frowning infant who laid in the brown bassinet. “Hey buddy, what's the matter now?” whispering gently in his ear, she carefully cradled in her arms. Sneaking a peak at his diaper, Michel’le frowned. Green again. “Don’t worry bud I’ll get you sorted out,” she assured him as she began to get him cleaned up on the changing table within the living room. Her right hand rubbed his quivering belly. The warmth of her hand slowly caused him to stop shaking.

The tumblers of the front door’s lock clicked and soon Kadeem entered the home. The aroma of blueberries, vanilla, and butter, and cake batter filled his nose the moment he stepped inside. Jerome’s low wailing had wiped the drowsiness away from him. Kadeem’s timberland boots cracked heavily against the freshly waxed floors as he followed the cries, “Yo Michel’le, wassup wit em’?” A spark of panic swept across him until he laid his eyes on the housekeeper and his child.

“The formula ran through him again.” She stated as she began to swaddle him tightly before holding him to her chest, her mocha eyes settling above her at Kadeem, “The vitamin prescriptions are too strong for him as well, he needs more fiber to not get the runs.” Her tone turning saddened as she rubbed his back.

“Shit…” The kingpin breathed out as he ran his hand across his face, “So what that mean? We gotta take him to the doctors? Change his formula?” He reached his hands out towards her and as soon as Michel’le passed him the baby; the boy was cradled against his chest.

“No.” She smoothed out her cable knit sweater before tightly wrapping the diaper trash bag and folding the towel up, “Whole grains are fiber and according to the Jared association of infant natural and medicinal care book; We can fix that by adding whole grain cream of wheat into his formula along with half an ounce of banana.” She proceeded to reach into the medical bag underneath his changing table and pull out the book.

Michel’le then stood up and pointed towards the fine print of the highlighted page. Kadeem towered over her and she could feel the heat radiant off of his body due to how close they were. His dark cherry and whiskey cologne swept through her nostrils as he read over her shoulder.

“A’ight cool, I’ll be back.” His words slipped into her ear like a hushed whisper. With the book leaving her hands and baby Jerome slipping into them, Michel’le felt the sturdiness of his chest brush against her back as he passed her to leave.

It didn't take him long to come to the store and come back. But by the time he had came back, the comforting scent of fried eggs for breakfast had blessed his nostrils. Before Kadeem had went to join Michel’le in the kitchen, he took time to get out of his chinchilla coat and timbs, before washing his hands. Mohair trimmed leather house slippers had been placed on his feet and his long-wool crimson-red house coat laid over his shoulders as he made his way to the kitchen, “What you cookin’? Smells good.” he asked as he put down the boxes of cream of wheat and a bundle of bananas.

“Mangú. Which is steamed plantains, fried eggs with salchichon, which is a type of salami that’s meant to be fried. Oh, ans I made blueberry stuffed pancakes with a vanilla-cinnamon glaze.” She explained as she watched him take a seat.

Kadeem grasped his plate with both hands and inhaled the smoke, inhaling its scent. “Thank you.” a genuine smile spread across his lips.

The apples of Michel’le’s cheeks had tinted a deep shade of scarlet that appeared muted pink on the surface, “It’s no problem.” she had gotten up from her seat and started to boil water in a small pot. Three different measuring cups were soon laid out and she then began evening out the portions of bananas, formula, and cream of wheat powder.

“How you like workin here, babygirl?” Kadeem asked as he cut into his savory plate. The clipping of forks against the plate could be heard soon after.

“I love it. It’s…” she trailed off trying to find the words, “This is so much better than what I expected or could have hoped for. The cleaning part is easy so I don’t mind that. But um, Jerome there had me nervous at first. But now me and the little guy are pretty good friends I think.”

“Mhmm” Kadeem smirked in between digging into his food. He couldn't help but to fuck up his plate, everything on it was so good that he debated asking for seconds. Instead, he moved onto his pancakes, “Why you so nervous all the time?” His thick black eyebrows knitted together, “Aint nun gon happen to you, you got my word.”

Michel’le sucked in a breathe as the hand that stirred within the pot, halted. Her head slowly tilted to the side and she looked his way, “You really mean that Kadeem?” she asked a little above a whisper but he had heard her clearly.

Her soft tone was pleasurable to the ears. A nice change from rowdiness of the block, or foul-mouthed women he ran across. The change wasn’t bad and it was his first sense of serenity in a long while…if ever.

The pair stared at one another few a lingering moments as he chewed with his mouth closed. “My word is bond.” He answered.

The fawn-like smile she gave him made him smile bacl at her. “Okay, thank you.”

After preparing Jerome a bottle and taking a seat at the table as she awaited for it to cool, Michel’le began to open up about herself,”I used to have seizures when I a kid. Mh grandma said if I played too long I’d overheat…I think it's called overexasperation. “ She bit at the corner of her lip as she shrugged, “I don’t know what triggers it, my blood just gets pumping ans my heart starts racing over the littest of things or sudden acts. I feel like a big scardy cat most of the time.” Her cheek rested against her fist as she looked down at the brown kitchen table.

Michel’le need to be protected from the roughness of the streets. The aggression of New York, or the world in general was attractive. It was a attractive to be needed. She may not have asked to be protected or express any need for Kadeem to protect her. But, he felt the need to. The desire to. Kadeem reached his left hand across the table and the tips of of his fingers gently tapped against her knuckles, “Don't beat ya self up bout it. Being scary sometimes ain’t a bad thing…means you don’t trust muthafuckas easily. Them nerves keep you vigilant, right?”

To which Michel’le quickly nodded her head. Kadeem’s smile came rolling back around making her stomach flutter. “Aight then, maybe that’s your super power or some shit like dat.” the nasily giggle she let out made his infectiously-beautiful smile widen.

“I-I like your smile, you should smile more often. Makes you look less…intense.” Michel’le complimented, bashfully.

His smile curved into a smirk, “Preciate that.” he then stood up and scooped Jerome in his arms before grabbing the now warm bottle off the table, “Go on and enjoy ya breakfast, I got em.” he assured before he carried Jerome out the kitchen.

With a smile plastered across her lips, Michel’le dug into her food; kicking her feet underneath the table with glee.

The morning soon transitions to late mid-day. Jerome had managed to sleep a total of six hours. Which, was major progress since he never slept longer than two. Both Kadeem and Michel’le were able to spend time doing what theyd wanted. Michel’le caught up on the latest chapters of Hannibal while Kadeem spent his time within his office and the other half outside.

An hour of his time was spent within the sheets and between the legs of a woman named Solana. Solana lived a few houses down the street from Raq and was a mother to four boys. And a lengthy wrap sheet with the law for gangbanging alongside various men. She was tall with a dark mocha complexion and slim build with a thick lower half. A bit of a sex addict with a burning desire for Nique that always kept him coming back. She was wild enough to leave the dents of her nails imprinted on his skin.

The smoke from his blunt filled the air of Solana’s kitchen as Kadeem peaked out of her curtains, looking towards Raq’s house. A dark chuckle leaving his lips as he watched Kanan leave.

“Yo Nique, you don't hear me talkin to you?” Solana said with a snappy tone and a musky voice.

“My bad, wassup baby?” Kadeem replied as he turned his head and looked her way.

Solana narrowed her eyebrows at him before smacking her lips,”Worrell’s lil flavor of the week told you moved. When you gonna wine and dine me other there? Let me come wit the boys and cook for you?”

Kadeem fought the urge to laugh. But, he couldn't hold off the chuckles that escaped his lips, “I ain't move nowhere. I'm still in the same spot.” the lies spilled from his lips easier than the truth. “Look, how bout I take you to Tao steakhouse next Saturday?” The suggestion came off his lips quicker than his previous lies. Would he hold up on his end of the offer was the real question…and the answer was most likely not.

Upon leaving Solana”s house and taking all of Raq’s resources away from her later that day; he managed to arrive home earlier than he previously had. The golden hour of the day was slowly clocking towards moonlight hours. Mother nature had been nicer tonight. The weather was breezy instead of brick and the thought of taking a stroll before dinner had been fresh in Kadeem's mind.

“Michel'le.” He called out with a husky voice from the threshold. Upon not getting any type of response, he called her name once again as he made his way upstairs.

There she stood in Jerome's room in a pair of brown leggings that hugged every ounce of her body and clung to her skin like a second layer of skin. A chunky orange canble-knit turtleneck sweater sat at her waist. Which gave Unique a full of her backside. Snapping out of his staring state, he called her name in a softer tone to avoid startling her while she had Jerome in her arms. When she slowly turned around and gave him a shy smile as she greeted him, Kadeem felt a sense of serenity. Her smile was like a warm hug on a cold night.

“Your home early. I uh haven't started dinner yet.” She said.

“It's cool. I'm not hungry right now.” He assured her. “How you feel bout talkin’ a walk? Just us three.” His hands folded over his fists as his back was leaned against the wall beside the door.

“That sounds nice. Um, I'll just get Jerome ready and we'll be set to go.” She replied.

It had taken her ten minutes to get Jerome and herself ready. The boy was dressed in a North Face infant snowsuit and a thick black hat on his head. His golden chain stayed around his neck, matching the golden colored thermal blanket that laid over him. Soon enough, the father, son, and house keeper walked alongside one another down the neighborhood. Kadeem's hand rested on the handlebar of Jerome's stroller as he walked closely beside Michel’le.

“If you don't mind me asking, what happened to his mother?” Michel'le asked, breaking the silence between them.

“She got herself killed.” He nearly spat out those words. The thought of her angering him.

“Oh.” She whispered with a frown, “Did you hate her? Or love her?”

Shrugging his shoulders underneath his brown coat, he replied, “I hate how she carried herself. Her actions that caused her demise got me hot. Like, maybe she ain't give a fuck bout lil man like she claimed she did.”

Michel'le didn't fully understand due to the details being left out. But she caught the jist and simply nodded her head,“Were you together when she passed?”

“Nah. I had no love for shorty. Shit, Jerome was just one of them gifts from God that come on ya doorstep like a Christmas present. I got no love in my heart for a lady in my life.” Kadeem replied. But before Michel'le could ask why, he clarified, “I don't trust nobody Michel'le. Loyalty means more to me than love.”

#theesirenteller fanfic #theesirentellerstories #domesticated; unqiue raising kanan #joey bada$$#theesirenteller characters #unique raising kanan x oc #raising kanan

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beardedmrbean · 3 months

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Two brothers who kept a “human sacrifice” hit list of cops, judges, politicians, celebrities and “banker scum” were nabbed with an arsenal of homemade bombs and ghost guns in their family’s Queens apartment, prosecutors said Monday.

Wannabe anarchists Andrew Hatziagelis, 39, and his 51-year-old brother Angelo were hit with a 130-count indictment after cops and federal agents seized a cache of weapons that included “improvised” explosive devices, body armor and a collection of AR-15-style and 9 mm ghost guns.

The pair also allegedly scribbled “hit list” on a scrap of notebook paper that included a list of potential targets that also listed “corporate scum.”

“Wipe out the scum,” the disturbing note said. “Wipe out the earth,” with the lines marked as “chorus – hit list.

“Human sacrifices,” a written rant on a separate page said. “Permitable but only for the corrupt rapists, pedophiles, murderers, politicians, judges.”

The busts came after a joint operation with the Queens District Attorney’s Office, the NYPD and the US Department of Homeland Security.

“The city is safer today,” Queens DA Melinda Katz said in a statement on Monday. “We cannot measure the number of lives that were saved but we do know that these weapons will never hurt anyone.”

Investigators said they uncovered an ‘arsenal’ of bombs and weapons in an Astoria apartment, including homemade devices and instructions on building ghost guns and other weapons. Queens DA

Brothers Andrew and Angelo Hatziagelis allegedly kept bizarre notes that included a hit list naming everyone from cops and celebrities to “corporate scum” and “banker scum.” Queens DA

The Hatziagelis brothers ran a ghost gun manufacturing operation inside the apartment they shared with their mother and another brother on 36th Avenue in Astoria, according to the indictment.

Cops executed a search warrant at the home on Jan. 17 and discovered the alarming arsenal.

Among the weapons seized were eight homemade bombs, one partially constructed trip-wire bomb, two loaded AR-15-style rifles and two 9 mm semiautomatic handguns — all of them untraceable ghost guns — 600 rounds of ammunition and three sets of body armor, officials said.

Andrew Hatziagelis, 39, was charged with storing a cache of illegal weapons in the family’s Queens home. Queens DA

Angelo Hatziagelis, 51, was charged with keeping a stash of illegal weapons in his family’s Queens home. Queens DA

Authorities said the Hatziagelis brothers had eight homemade bombs in their Queens apartment, along with a collection of ghost guns. Queens DA

In addition, the brothers allegedly had a series of notebooks with bomb-making instructions along with “anarchist-related propaganda” and 3D printers used for manufacturing ghost gun parts.

“Today’s charges underscore the harsh reality that our communities contain a small number of people who conceivably harbor evil intent,” NYPD Commissioner Edward Caban said in a statement.

“This cache of weapons — including explosives and untraceable 3D-printed ghost guns — had the potential to wreak horrendous carnage,” Caban said.

The two brothers are due in court on Feb. 15, and each faces up to 25 years in prison if convicted.

#nunyas news

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astoriawest · 2 years

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Astoria is One of the Most Sought After Neighborhoods in NYC

Many New York natives have been flocking to Astoria in Queens, searching for luxury apartments with larger floor plans and pet-friendly amenities. But this local favorite has much more to offer than plenty of space and affordable prices by New York City standards.

Astoria is just right across the East River from Manhattan, making the location a perfect spot for those who want a short commute and easy access to the rest of the city. The homes here tend to offer much more living space than other areas in NYC, with many choices of apartments, townhomes, condos, and multi-family houses. Astoria is perfect for everyone from families to young professionals with its epic fitness and pet-friendly apartments.

New York residents who are looking for a more residential feel while retaining the diversity, culture, accessible transportation, and convenience that they know and love about the city, Astoria is the perfect choice for a neighborhood.

The Astoria Vibe

One of the most alluring aspects of Astoria is its rich diversity, which comes with a plethora of cultural institutions and a spectacular spread of restaurants. Originally settled by Dutch and Germans, you can now find residents from over 100 countries. After all, Queens is one of the most ethnically diverse counties in the United States.

The neighborhood has a more residential feel than others, with plenty of green space, local businesses, and mostly low-rise buildings. There is a laid-back, artsy vibe here, still with plenty of nightlife options. Many residents of Astoria consider it a friendly, small-town vibe amidst the big city.

Average Prices For LIC Rentals in Astoria

While Astoria is not a well-kept secret of NYC, rent prices here have managed to stay lower than in other neighborhoods. Of course, prices dropped during the pandemic, like in so many areas, but apartments have returned to pre-pandemic ranges.

According to Zumper, the average rent of a one bedroom apartment in Astoria is $2,213 as of May 2022. Meanwhile, studio apartments are going for just over $2000, two bedrooms averaging around $2500, and three bedroom units at around $3000 per month. Compared to the usually small apartments found throughout New York City, apartments here often offer 800 sqft or more.

Realty in Astoria has a brilliant mix of old and new. Many newly constructed condos and apartments offer high-end finishes like air conditioning, hardwood floors, washer and dryer, large closets, or a fitness center. On the flip side of that, there are still many historical homes that have retained their charm. Astoria apartments for rent can be found online for no fee or with a real estate agent.

The Lay of the Land in Astoria

Astoria is across the river from the Upper East Side. While the actual boundaries of Astoria have evolved, most people agree that it now includes the Ravenswood area, which was once considered part of Long Island City.

The neighborhood is bordered by the East River to the west and 48th St to the east, or 81st St in the northern Astoria Heights area. It stretches all the way north to 20th Avenue and as far south as 36th Avenue. Throughout the neighborhood, you’ll find a few main shopping areas, including Steinway, Ditmars, Broadway, and 30th Avenue, each with its own history and culture.

Ditmars-Steinway: This northern end of Astoria is home to tons of young professionals as well as trendy restaurants, bars, and coffee shops. Its southern border, Ditmars Boulevard, is known for its Greek cafes and tavernas and popular nightlife spots such as The Last Word, Vintage, and Mosaic.

Astoria Heights: The northeastern corner of Astoria, dubbed Astoria Heights, is made up of primarily detached single and multi-family homes, giving it a very suburban feel. It's a quiet area with plenty of tree-lined streets and parks, perfect for families or pet owners. Some consider this area part of East Elmhurst.

Old Astoria: Found between Hoyt Ave S and Astoria Blvd and 12th and 23rd St is Old Astoria. In this area, you will find some of the oldest homes in Astoria, with many incredible antebellum mansions remaining. It is the most expensive part of Astoria, with homes reaching the multimillions.

Steinway Street: Stretching through the whole length of Astoria is Steinway St., which gets its name from Steinway and Sons, the famous piano maker. Thanks to the Steinway Astoria Partnership, the section between 35th and 28th Ave has been continuously improved, with over 300 businesses located there.

Ravenswood: The southern end of Astoria, known as Ravenswood, is mainly a commercial area, but with the push from Noguchi Museum and several housing projects, it may become more residentially developed with time.

30th Avenue: An absolute heaven for foodies and bar hoppers, this street in Astoria is loaded with some of the city's favorite restaurants and bars. Local favorites along 30th Ave include Comfortland, Sweet Afton, Napoli's, and Pink Nori. Meanwhile, the Welling Court Mural Project offers beautiful graffiti that brings some color and art to the area.

Astoria Park: This 60-acre park is not only massive, but it offers some of the best views of Midtown Manhattan. It runs parallel to 21st St between Ditmars and Astoria Park St. The facilities are endless, including the oldest and largest pool in NYC, the Astoria Pool. At the park, there are also bocce courts, skate parks, playgrounds, tennis courts, baseball diamonds, splash pads, and many other exciting areas to explore.

Halletts Point: The peninsula located to the north of Roosevelt Island is currently undergoing development with seven new buildings intended to change the northwest corner of Queens, Astoria's waterfront apartment.

Perks of Living In Astoria

Transportation Is Easy: Just because you're in Queens doesn't mean a car is necessary! Astoria is exceptionally well connected, with Manhattan only a 20-minute subway ride away. There is also a ferry stop allowing Astoria residents to cross the river and plenty of bus lines.

Diversity Is Key: As previously mentioned, diversity is one of the main draws of Astoria. With residents from many backgrounds, the neighborhood lives in harmony and offers popular restaurants from tons of different cultures.

Homes You Can Afford: Whether you’re looking to rent or buy, apartments and homes in Astoria are considered to be relatively affordable when compared to similar neighborhoods in NYC.

Dubbed One of the Coolest Neighborhoods in the World: We can’t argue with that! Astoria was named one of the coolest neighborhoods in the world in 2019 by Time Out.

Home to the Bohemian Beer Hall: Just off of 31st St, you can find the last standing old-school beer hall in the city. This massive beer garden keeps the Czech spirit alive with its ice-cold beer and grilled bratwurst and attracts local Astorians and others from all over the city.

#astoria apartments for rent #astoria queens apartments

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kissingdeadgirls · 10 months

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SPIN IT UP:

LANA DEL REY, ULTRAVIOLENCE, 2014

What a F’n voice!

I'm a big Lana Del Rey fan. She's a pure talent, a beautiful woman as well . … I suspect she’d be a challenging woman to date, the kind of chick who might set all your clothes ablaze in a dumpster fire at the drop of a hat. Renée lived in Queens, an apartment in Astoria, when we first started dating, and we'd often spend our off days there. She introduced me to Del Rey's 2012 record Born to Die, which we used to listen to amidst the backdrop of beautiful New York City. Born to Die is kind of set in NYC, and anytime I hear a track from it I'm transported back to that time and place. My favorite Lana album, however, is Ultraviolence, not just because of my affinity for barbwire. This album is different from Born to Die in that its "setting" is the West Coast, as embodied by the track "West Coast" obviously. "Brooklyn Baby" a great song, might be the exception here, but this album feels distinctly West Coast to me, whatever that means. There's also a song called "Florida Kilos, so maybe my whole theory is off base. (Seriously, why did you buy this book? I clearly don't know what the hell I'm talking about.)

I first listened to this album while shooting a movie in Vancouver and when hear it now it always takes me back to that time and place, walking along the water with Renée, hiking the Grouse Grind and having a beer on the mountaintop, getting some Japadog (amazing Asian-fusion hot dog carts, if you ever see one, stop!).

Sit on your porch with some sangria, light some candles, and take a bath with a glass of wine, or take a nice walk through the park while you listen to the first five tacks of Ulraviolence. Let me know how you feel afterward. For me, this abums reling and inspiring. I don't light candies or dink wine, but I’m all about an Epsom salts bath (GET FUCKED! it’s a legitimate therapy tool! it’s not like I use bubble bath and shit).

#jon moxley #MOX 2021 #i have been thinking about this since my friend sent it to me #he’s just like me fr fr (etc)#wrestling is good actually #pg 64 for those who want to find it themselves

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softersinned-arc · 1 year

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biography — vampire. tw: abuse, torture, murder.

Astoria Ileana Grim was born in Venice, Italy in 1518, the illegitimate daughter of Veronika Grim and a lover whose identity was never revealed. Though Veronika was involved in her daughter’s upbringing, her parents—Aleksi and Ileana—took the lead in raising their granddaughter, educating her in the humanist tradition. A student of philosophy, history, Latin, Greek, and poetry, Astoria’s illegitimacy worked in her favor: since she was unlikely to make a good marriage with a noble or aristocratic family, she had the opportunity to dedicate herself fully to her studies. Better, she and her grandparents decided, that she was educated than that she pin her hopes on a husband willing to overlook the circumstances of her birth.

Alongside all this, Astoria was taught the secrets of her grandfather’s family — she, like her mother, apparently even like her unknown father, was a witch. She approached magic in the same way she approached everything else: she was ambitious, sometimes ruthlessly so, and she worked tirelessly until she mastered what she learned.

In 1532, Ileana died after a sudden and unexpected fever. She was laid to rest, but everything changed in the aftermath of her death: Veronika grew more distant, deeply uncomfortable with the growing realization that she would be expected to fill her mother’s shoes as the family matriarch, and after a few weeks, she simply vanished, saying she was going to Sweden to live with her father’s family there. Aleksi withdrew, speaking only to his granddaughter regarding the household’s upkeep, while Astoria’s uncle, Viktor, assisted where he could, but was otherwise focused on taking care of his wife and three young sons, all under the age of five. At fourteen, then, Astoria stepped up into her grandmother’s position, handling the household’s affairs and urging her grandfather into action. This continued for seven years until, in 1539, Aleksi begged Astoria to leave for England, to pursue her own future rather than focusing exclusively on the family’s. There, she would find Elyssa and Evander Vetri — Ileana’s niece and nephew, both skilled in magic and willing to take her in and help to teach her whatever they could. In 1541, after making arrangements, she left, traveling with Lord Leonardo Carminati, a Milanese vampire and one of her grandfather’s old friends, as her chaperone and companion. She and Leonardo got along well enough, though they mostly focused on their own business.

He delivered her to Evander Vetri in good health. They parted pleasantly, never expecting to see one another again.

Upon her arrival in London, Astoria was introduced to Henry VIII’s court — rather than teaching her magic, as they had promised, Evander and Elyssa installed her as one of Catherine Parr’s ladies in waiting, insisting that she would better serve them by learning the court’s secrets. Clever, well-spoken, and rather enchanting, Astoria had little trouble navigating the court, even under the Protestant queen’s watchful eye. For a time, she cooperated, though when she pressed Evander and Elyssa to educate her further, things began to fall apart: Evander’s temper was violent, and vicious, and prone to frequent explosions, and Elyssa reminded her that exposing her as a heretic would bring an end to any of Astoria’s attempts to learn. As Evander’s discipline, as he put it, became more and more regular, and Elyssa’s threats and manipulations became more difficult to ignore, Astoria began a quiet investigation of her own, learning that the Vetris had involved themselves in a web of treason and deceit, and were acting as French agents to pay off a massive debt accrued years before.

Better they die than I. With this knowledge, Astoria began to resist, delivering false information to her patrons and leaving a careful trail that pointed to them, and them alone. With each apparent failure, she was subjected to Evander’s growing wrath, and after goading him into a particularly violent outburst, she appealed to none other than her queen for aid and for mercy. The king, enraged, called for the Vetris’ arrest; they disappeared, and Astoria was spared suspicion due to her own cooperation and her apparent frailty. Surely, no girl so small, so tired, so frightened could be a traitor as well. (That same girl spent her nights casting spell after spell to locate her tormentors, certain that they would come for her soon enough.)

She was right to suspect it. The Vetris exacted their revenge shortly after Henry’s death in 1547. No longer a lady of the court, with young Edward’s accession, Astoria had little time to prepare: one night she went to sleep in her own bed and the next day she awoke in an abandoned monastery, far from any prying eyes or curious ears, bound in chains. There, she learned that, as revenge for their failure to pay their debts, Elyssa was made a vampire against her will and cut off from her magic — her debt, then, was eternal.

Again, Astoria was the subject of their torment and their whims. First, Elyssa tortured her with the intent of causing pain, and later with the intent of practicing her skills; she drank from her often, learning self-control so that she might turn her brother as well once she could be certain she wouldn’t kill him in doing so. The torment became experimentation—Elyssa drank from her and tried to access the magic she’d been cut off from, and when this failed, she punished Astoria brutally. After nearly a year of this, Astoria kept alive only for her captors’ amusement, Elyssa’s experimentation went too far, and when presented with the choice between losing Astoria or changing her, she decided on the latter. Once it was clear that she had survived her rebirth, they resumed their experimentation, starving her to the point of near-madness and letting her loose on the enemies they’d accrued during their human lives, pushing to see how far she could be injured without losing her capacity to heal, testing the efficacy of poisons and weapons and even magical objects against a vampire’s physiology. Rather than endanger themselves, they would simply learn from her. When Astoria broke free from her chains, eight years after being turned against her will, and nearly ripped Evander’s beating heart out of his chest, she was chained again, and left to die—Elyssa was certain that she would either starve to death or be found if she escaped again, hungry and feral and monstrous.

She was found—rather unexpectedly, and by an old friend. Leonardo Carminati fed her his own blood and carried her to safety, taught her the most basic skills to survive, worked to reach past the anger at her near decade of captivity and torment to find the remnants of the woman she was. To her surprise, the loss of her magic — though it felt like an open wound, even then — did not prevent her from adapting to a new life, this time as an apex predator. For a time, Astoria and Leonardo remained together; she consented to a marriage ceremony for the sake of briefly taking Leonardo’s name and “inheriting” wealth and lands of her own. Part of Leonardo’s appeal to her was his cruelty, and for a brief time, the two were lovers, though their affection for one another was borne of friendship alone. When Astoria’s wildness and the obsessive need for revenge became too much for Leonardo to manage on his own, he left her in the care of his cousin, Baldwin de Clermont.

Whereas Leonardo taught her to survive, Baldwin taught her to live—to hunt without being detected, to defend herself against their own kind and even to kill. Under his care, she became Astoria Grim again, and her grief for her lost magic and the anger that consumed her settled into tools to be used. She killed Evander in 1649, just over a century after she was turned, and had his skull delivered to Elyssa, in part as a warning, in part as a taunt. By 1656, Astoria identified another threat: her own family. The Grim witches had thought her dead, only to realize that she had simply been reborn. Determined to "free" her, and to eliminate an ally to the de Clermonts, they began to hunt her. Astoria saw this as a chance to prove that she deserved to count herself among the family, to Ysabeau, to Philippe, even to herself (funny enough, she never once imagined she needed to prove it to Baldwin—she was well aware that he knew her, even when she didn't quite know herself). Their separation was painful, but necessary, and Astoria relocated to Sweden with Ysabeau, helping plant the seeds for another witch hunt, with the Grims at the center.

Names matter to vampires. Names matter to her. This was how she proved herself worthy of the name: by destroying anything that tried to prevent her from taking it. When she came back to Baldwin in 1668, putting aside her desire for revenge to offer him support in his grief for his younger brother, she did so without any reservation, fully prepared to commit herself to him entirely. Before the day had come to an end he was her mate, her husband, her partner—and they would not, could not, be separated for anything. In 1763, with Baldwin's help and support, she hunted down and killed Elyssa in an execution so brutal she will not speak of it centuries later. Over the nineteenth century she gained two daughters, Lydia and Serafine. After Philippe's death in 1945, Baldwin became the head of the family, and Astoria, as his wife, became his consort and Madame de Clermont.

During the events of All Souls—Astoria is typically found wherever Baldwin is. Determined to protect her family at any cost, she is openly critical of Diana's refusal to be turned, and the danger their relationship poses to everyone connected to them.

general statistics.

FULL NAME Astoria Ileana Cassandra Grim de Clermont. PREVIOUS NAMES Astoria Grim, Cassandra Carminati, Ileana Blackwood, Astoria de Clermont. CURRENT NAME Astoria Montclair.

AGE Roughly 504 years old (turned in 1548). Appears to be about 30. BIRTHDAY 22 August. CURRENTLY LOCATED London, Venice, New York, Milan, wherever she’s most useful.

EDUCATION Astoria studied informally, or at the instruction of masters of the field, through the sixteenth to nineteenth centuries. In the twentieth century, she began attending universities once they allowed women to matriculate. She currently has doctorates in history, folklore, political science (in both the United States and in England), English literature, and Italian literature, and accompanying master’s degrees in those fields, as well as a master’s degree in art history. OCCUPATION Publicly, Astoria runs an art gallery, with locations in New York, London, and Rome. She has also been publishing fiction under a series of pseudonyms since the eighteenth century. Privately, she is Baldwin’s assassin. SPOKEN LANGUAGES Fluent in Veneto, Italian, Swedish, French, English, Spanish, Romanian, Russian, Japanese, Cantonese. Reading fluency in Latin and Greek. Currently learning Arabic. PHYSICAL SKILL Self-defense and martial arts, as taught by Baldwin and Leo. Weapons training, with swords and with shorter blades, as well as recent training with guns. Archery, for fun. Multiple forms of dance, from courtly dance to ballet. Lockpicking and pickpocketing.

social connections.

Baldwin Montclair. Astoria’s closest friend, confidante, and guide. Later on, Astoria’s mate. Less than twenty-five years after she becomes a vampire, Astoria is brought to Baldwin, where she learns how to live as a vampire, and regains the dignity she thought lost to her after her murder. Astoria’s affection and trust for Baldwin are both unconditional, and her loyalty to the Clermont line is second to her loyalty to him. After nearly a century of unwavering devotion to one another, Baldwin and Astoria were mated on the 31st of December in 1668. Unlike some mated pairs, their marriage is completely monogamous. They have spent the last three hundred and fifty years wholly committed to one another, their partnership characterized by a deep love for and faith in one another that has not faded.

Gallowglass de Clermont. Baldwin's nephew by his eldest brother, Hugh, Gallowglass has existed in a strange and purgatorial state since his fathers formed a separate scion, the rift never fully mended after Hugh's death. At once recognizing the limbo in which he lives as familiar to her own experiences as a witch, Astoria and Gallowglass get along very well in the centuries leading up to the events of the trilogy, going for tattoos together on more than one occasion, often running into one another when they've sneaked out of family gatherings for a smoke. However, his loyalty to Diana and Matthew, and the toll that takes on Baldwin, leaves her angry for a time, though their relationship can mend.

Leonardo Avano. A friend of her grandfather’s, Leonardo—then going by Carminati—is the only connection from her human life that Astoria carries into her vampire life. After he saves her and helps nurse her back to health, Leo marries her and grants her some of his property and wealth, so that she can take care of herself, before bringing her to Baldwin for training. They are good friends, though neither one trusts the other very much, and both are fully prepared to betray each other if necessary.

Lydia Montclair. One of Astoria's two daughters. Turned by another vampire in the mid-nineteenth century, Baldwin and Astoria helped free her from an asylum where she had been kept for near a decade. She was adopted via a blood vow, and though Baldwin and Astoria both consider her their daughter, she will never inherit her father's title as head of the family, much to her relief.

Matthew Clairmont. Astoria's brother-in-law. Though they should, perhaps, have found common ground in their shared faith, it was clear that even early on Astoria took to her nature with greater pleasure than Matthew, and that she needed little direction from Baldwin to adopt a similar moral code. They are, at best, argumentative and often antagonistic with one another; however, the events of the trilogy destroy any goodwill Astoria feels towards Matthew, and their relationship, once troubled but nevertheless familial, has broken beyond repair.

Miyako de Clermont. Astoria's stepdaughter. Baldwin's oldest living child, Miyako is just about two centuries Astoria's senior. Their mutual love for Baldwin provides them with a foundation for a strong relationship, and they get along beautifully. She is Astoria's favorite of Baldwin's children, and is a vocal and steadfast supporter of naming Miyako as Baldwin's heir.

Niccolò de Clermont. Astoria's stepson. Located primarily in Venice, Niccolò is the current owner of the Grim estate, gifted to him by his stepmother after she regained control of her family's home and became determined that no witch would live there again.

Serafine Montclair. One of Astoria's two daughters. Turned by Astoria in the mid-to-late nineteenth century, Serafine was a governess who sought eternal life in the hopes of achieving true independence to pursue her passion for music. Now a violinist in Dresden, Germany, Serafine and her mother are close, though she is significantly more independent than her sister, and sees her family less frequently than her mother would like.

verse notes.

The lore for this verse is based primarily in the All Souls universe. While I’m happy to adjust for any other vampire setting, this is going to be my default. When writing within an All Souls verse, I will generally stick to book canon, with some show influences.

on astoria.

ON MAGIC If Matthew could have taken and tested Astoria’s blood while she was a witch, he would have found the markers for earth, water, air, precognition, and talking to the dead. Given that she came from witches on both sides, and that witches were more powerful in earlier eras, it’s not particularly surprising that Astoria would have had more power than the average modern witch, and had she not been turned, her magic, focused on death and healing as it was, would likely have drawn significant attention. She probably would have been killed as a result. She does not currently have any connection to her magic, but she does have a knack for tarot.

ON FAMILY & RANK This verse is single ship with Baldwin Montclair. He is her mate, though she'll refer to him most often as her husband. She takes her role as the head of the family's consort very seriously. In official settings, or when she's deliberately pulling rank with the family, she is referred to as Madame de Clermont. If anyone (including the consort of a de Clermont scion) is referred to as such, she will gently but firmly correct this; in her or her husband's presence, she is the only vampire who should be referred to with this title. (When Baldwin and Astoria are absent, however, consorts of a scion, like Diana, can and should use the title.) For more information on her family, and her role as a Grim and as a de Clermont, see this post.

While she and Leonardo were involved for nearly two decades, and even married by human law, they work best as friends who don’t particularly trust each other, with plenty of time and distance between them and meeting only occasionally. She does not consider him her husband; their marriage was a performance to justify her presence and her ownership of some of his property. Leonardo will always exist for her in this verse, even when writing outside of All Souls canon.

ON NAMES Astoria's full name is Astoria Ileana Cassandra Grim de Clermont. She was born Astoria Ileana Grim, and went by Cassandra Carminati when she lived with Leonardo, masquerading as his wife. When she was brought to Baldwin, she spent her time as Astoria Grim, until she left for Sweden in 1656. While she was away from him, she lived as Ileana Blackwood, borrowing the surname from an old lover. After returning to Baldwin in 1668 she began using his name exclusively. She is, currently, known as Astoria Montclair.

on the creatures of all souls.

This is my general vampire verse, and follows a slightly adapted lore as presented in the All Souls trilogy. Humans live alongside creatures—vampires, daemons, and witches—whose existence is largely unknown to them. Creatures are governed by a Congregation made up of nine—three from each species—who make and carry out laws to keep peace and allow for secrecy from humans. A few important notes on All Souls vampires:

They are not vulnerable to the sun; standing in sunlight just makes it more obvious that they’re not human. They aren’t killed by staking, either, given the strength of their skin. The only way to kill a vampire is to bleed them out before they can heal, to burn them, or to destroy the heart entirely. Related: vampires can scar, and the marks are visible under the right light. (See here for notes on Astoria's visible scars.) Tattoos eventually heal, and have to be redone.

They feed on blood to survive, human or animal. While they can eat and drink, cooked food is often disgusting to them, but raw fruits and vegetables and cured meats are typically fine. A fast metabolism means that alcohol doesn’t have much of an effect on them. Vampires have sharp canines, but not fangs, and bite to break the skin. They typically like the taste of adrenaline in the blood, and many enjoy the hunt more than the kill.

Vampire clans and bloodlines are deeply important, and mating is one of a vampire’s strongest needs.

A witch who has been turned loses access to their magic, and is wholly vampire.

I am perfectly comfortable with adapting this further to fit other lore in other verses! Just let me know if you’d like to do that.

#(had to update some information & since the old post was in the legacy editor it was giving me some trouble w saving)#( mobile info )#i. all you have is your fire and the place you need to reach. ( character development )

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wanderingnewyork · 10 months

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An apartment house in #Astoria, #Queens.

#nyc #queens #astoriaqueens #astoria #newyorkcity

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iamdarcylewis · 2 years

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Where does Darcy live?

Random asks. || Always Accepting.

Darcy had been living at Magni's farm for the past three months, but just came back to her apartment in Astoria, Queens 🙌🏻

#Anonymous #ask

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constellaetions · 2 days

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CHANG MIN 'CHARLIE' HAN / cis man (he/him) thirty-seven years old — april 5th, 1987 (aries sun ; taurus rising ; gemini moon)

+ Loyal, Caring - Inconsistent, will figure out more as i play him

FBI agent working at the Atlanta’s field office Native to Queens, NYC; has lived in Oakwood since January 2024.

tl;dr

Ever since his mother remarried and his step-father took him to visit the FBI headquarters in Quantico, his biggest dream had always been to become an FBI Agent, so, he worked hard to make it happen. On his first undercover mission, as an attempt to get closer to the gang leader they were trying to bring down, he ended up falling in love with the leader's sister and she got pregnant with their child. Her drug problem however, made her have an overdose and their child to be born with several health problems. Chang Min kept diving deeper and deeper into the gang to pay for his son's medical expenses, which scarred him for life. After bringing the gang down, he moved to Magnolia Springs to be close to his best friend and raise his son Leo in a less chaotic place.

triggers for: blood mention, death mention, drug overdose mention

Born and raised in Astoria, New York, it was safe to say that Chang Min was no stranger to violence. However, when his mother remarried the man who would become his biggest inspiration and the person who dragged his family away from Queens and brought him to the biggest apartment he had ever seen in Brooklyn Heights. Together, his mother and step-father gave Charlie a new last name, one he got from being officially adopted by the man he now called ‘father’, a younger sister and a whole new world of opportunities.

His first trip outside of New York was to Quantico, to visit his father’s place of work in 8th grade, and as he wrote his report after spending the whole day following the older man around — for as long as he was allowed to — then saw him go through cases, delegate tasks and all of that, the idea of becoming an agent, himself, started growing inside of him. The picture Charlie drew back then, of both father and son wearing suits in their sticky figures and standing in front of a tall building that read FBI hung on the family’s fridge for years. On their way back to New York, all that Charlie could do was to ask his father billions of questions on how did his father become an agent, if the training was hard, but most of all, how would anyone become one. To that last question, he remembers to this day his father’s chuckle and dry answer of ‘you just study’, which, of course wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

His teenage days weren’t the most interesting. If Charlie wasn’t raising havoc with his best friend Roman, then he was running around trying to get lucky with girls at their private, preppy school’s courtyard. Being a teenager to the young man meant doing everything he wanted to, as long as it didn’t break the law. The pressure upon his shoulders only intensified when his father became the assistant-director of the FBI, which meant he needed to start paying more attention to his surroundings because his father would be staying in Quantico more often than not. It meant that Chang Min needed to be the man of the house and take care of his mother and sister. So, that’s what he did. He stopped fooling around and playing hooky so much and started investing his time in his studies with hopes that raising his GPA high enough would grant him a spot in a nice university.

With the help of his father’s influence and his outstanding score in that year’s SATs, Chang Min was able to be accepted into Columbia University, where he studied Computer Science and started paving his way towards becoming an FBI Agent like his father. Once university was behind him, Charlie moved to Quantico with his family and started working for a small tech company to gain experience the bureau required before applying for a spot there. Four years here, two more years there and finally, he managed to tell that little boy that had been on that same building all of those years ago that they had made it.

The training was exhausting. His body could feel it, his mind could feel it, but to Charlie, those were means to and end. He was where he had always wanted to be.

At first, he told himself he would be fine being a computer analyst for the bureau, to sit behind a desk and find traces here and there that could help field agents on their tasks, but the more he trained and got to feel the adrenaline rush that came with it, he realized he wasn’t meant to be an analyst. He wanted to be out there in the field. So that’s what he put his body and soul into.

A few years after having become an agent, Charlie returned to New York to work at the agency’s field office in the city and was also able to rekindle his friendship with his best friend. Well, not that it had ever died, but adult life made sure they weren’t talking as much as they used to in the past. It was good, though… to be back in the city he’d been brought up in, to see old faces, to meet new ones. His happy days, however, were numbered. Charlie was given the chance to prove himself to the bureau. He was tasked to go undercover and infiltrate a gang which already had an ATF agent infiltrated too, but he needed help getting more information as the leads they got were growing cold and it could jeopardize their whole operation.

So, in Charlie went. It took him an entire year to gain these people’s trust, and within that year, he ended up falling in love Maki, the gang leader’s daughter, who was always around the gang members, partying too hard, being too loud, being carefree. She ended up getting pregnant, but it seemed like his mishap was getting an approval of the bureau as it managed to link him even more to the gang. Her addiction to drugs caused her to overdose and an emergency c-section was made. She didn’t make it, but his child did, barely, but he did. The horrible things Chang Min had to do to ensure the gang leader would pay for his child’s NICU haunt him to this day with nightmares flooded with blood, but at least, he had made it. He’d become an inside man, finally, and he was in the good graces of the gang leader.

The following three years were filled with blood, sweat and—more blood. Drugs were always around, guns came and went, and the only person Charlie could actually talk about any of this was the ATF agent who was also undercover. When they were only a few hours away from seeing things through with this entire operation, things went completely south. The ATF agent’s cover was blown somehow and Chang Min watched the man’s brain stained his clothes. The bureau had to act fast and a few gang members ended up escaping the bust, but all in all, it was considered a success.

Charlie returned to the New York office, now bringing his son Leo with him and tried to go back to his old life, with old friends and new ones. However, that didn’t last long. One of the gang members that managed to escape was able to track him down to New York, and threatened him and his son at his own apartment. The bureau intervened upon Agent Han’s report of shots being fired and that he killed the gang member. They faked his death in a big accident and he was transferred somewhere else, which, he chose the Atlanta office, to have a desk job there and to be close to his friend Roman. Magnolia Springs, he’d heard, seemed like a nice, peaceful place to raise his son.

#info | chang min 'charlie' han

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