/ 𝕤𝕚𝕕 𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕣 /

His eyebrow raised lightly at the other’s words, since they didn’t know each other, he wondered how he knew who he was. Maybe he stopped by the police station and he just couldn’t remember him. That happened sometimes, so many people went there, it was hard to remember every single one, “How do you know me?” he asked, “I’m a police officer, so yes,” he told him, “Why the question?” did he want police’s help? Did he want to know if he knew someone that he knew? The options were many.

Sid was a second away from snapping at the man out of impatience, not exactly in the mood for questions, though held back in the case he could prove to actually be useful. “There’re only a handful of cops in this town, doesn’t take much to remember a face.” His jaw worked a moment as he considered whether or not to bring him into his matter or not but it definitely beat jumping through the hoops when he stepped into the station given his priors. “My sister got picked up at some rager last night. She wasn’t carrying, or wasted. Wrong place wrong time I guess.” 

After a particularly frustrating shift at the garage, Jasper had wanted nothing more than to throw his fists into the first hard surface he could find. But rather than fling himself into a bar fight and run the risk of starting a fire he couldn’t snuff out, he’d found himself at Renegade yet again, drilling his jabs and punches into the nearest bag. The gym had always afforded him the perfect, controlled environment he needed to offload whatever was nagging at him. It was his safe haven, a place to go when he was coiled up tight and needed a release. He knew he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Like him, so many of the other leather clad men and women he rode with used fighting as a way to deal with what life threw at them– which was why he’d phoned Sid after work and asked him to tag along.

He’d gotten started without him though; the frustration pulsing through his blood like shots of adrenaline had all but demanded it. But the heavy punching bag across from him wasn’t the same as sparring with another person. It was too mechanical, too predictable, and it didn’t make him chase after a fight the way a real opponent did.

Craning his neck as the sound of the door swinging shut clattered in the background, Jasper squinted, straining his eyes to make out the shape of the newcomer. His blank look quickly transformed into a wide grin once he realized it was Sid. “Hey, brother,” he greeted a little breathlessly as he stepped back from the bag. “Thought you’d stood me up there for a minute, man.” He gestured at the small cooler stashed next to his bag and stockpiled with chilling beers. “You want a beer?”

With all that had gone down the other weekend, Sid knew he wasn’t the only one wound up tight. There wasn’t anyone in the club that hadn’t had deep respect for Martin. The man had pulled him through some shit and then some back when he was just a starting out, when he was in that tough spot of trying to do things the way his old man, yet feeling like he kept coming up short. His lose would not be forgotten or forgiven. The sooner they figured out just who was behind it all the sooner they could put the matter to rest.

Sid hadn’t hesitated to agree when he’d gotten the call to meet up at the Renegade. He’d likely have ended up there at some point any way like he did nearly everyday without miss. There was something about consistently pushing himself to his physical limit that allowed him a sense of fulfillment, a feeling control and calm almost that was nearly a crutch for the man. Getting up from his mother’s dinner table before she’d served up dessert however, was impossible. He could swear the more of a rush he was in the more she took her sweet time in keeping him there.

When he got to the gym finally later than he’d said Sid wasted no time in getting out of the hoodie he had on tossing it to the side with his gym bag. “Thank Ma for that, she had me hostage and stuffed to the brink.” He replied shaking his head at the offer of the beer, he felt bloated enough. “You wanna get straight in the ring?”

there’s a moment as she’s reaching for one of the small brownie bites, that she becomes distracted by someone as she turns around. it’s an obvious glance on her part, she doesn’t even start to even wonder who was underneath the mask because all she could look at was the mask. “fancy yourself as the next christian bale, huh?” her tone’s lighthearted as she speaks up, figuring she might as well considering it wasn’t like the attention she gave him was subtle. a smile curves on her features before she pops the small sweet treat she had only just picked up in her mouth, being a person who could small talk and not actually get bored, she’s almost waiting for his response as she finds herself looking at the points to his mask.

Sid had heard that comparison more than once that evening, and it certainly got less amusing each time though he was in high spirits given the free flowing booze, at least for now. He’d really have to thank his sister for it later though. When he’d scarfed down the strawberry he’d popped into his mouth having just filled up his plate, he offered her his usual wayward smile before responding. “Took a hard pass on the red one, figured it’d be too on the nose. Though if the cowl fits, who’m I to refuse the compliment.” 

Estella finally caught a break as she perched herself up on a stool, drinking silently by the bar. Her reserved demeanour meant that she was in no mood to deal with anyone, not when she had just gone through her fair share of interactions. Now she just needed to recharge with the help of alcohol. However, judging by the familiar presence near her…She internally spoke too soon. “You just have impeccable timing…” she pointed out in a flat tone as she glanced up at Sid. “You look like a knock off Bruce Wayne that’s facing an identity crisis by the way.” The mask didn’t help, but then again this whole event made the majority of patrons look like a knock off character. 

Sid liked to think he was a simple man, and there was a simple pleasure in the banter and scathing looks that usually ensued in his exchanges with Estella Laurent, among other things. Perhaps he was more of a masochist than he realized. Though there was no turning back when he approached her, drinking in the way the deep green satin of her dressed hugged her every curve. A smirk making it’s way on his face as he shot down the bartender before facing her from where he leaned against the bar, “The cape kept getting caught on my fender, so it had to go.” He said with about as much seriousness he was capable of. “Don’ know if I should risk my balls on taking a gab at whatever look you were going for, though swamp things the first to cross my mind.”

WITH:  @maya-riyad​ WHEN:  The evening of September 12th WHERE:  The Masquerade Ball held at Town Hall

Gaze still lingering on the individual he’d been talking to at the bar Sid, was turning to head off glass of whiskey in hand when he nearly rammed into the girl coming up to the bar herself. Before she could stagger he reached out placing a hand on her shoulder, offering her an easy smile as he did. “Sorry ‘bout that darling, you alright?”

Part of him questioned the logic of holding a masquerade ball just a few months following the shooting. You invite the entire town into one location and require anonymity upon entry. Stray didn’t know much about politics or running a city, but he did know security, and were he in charge who ever came up with this idea would be fucking fired. While he figured they powers that be assumed that the chances of another shoot out in town were extremely low so soon after the last one… well, Stray was well aware that in Charming the chances were never zero. 

Sure there was security, gliding through the masked attendees, fiddling with their ear pieces and eyes scanning from one side to another, and back and forth again. He followed the paths they made through the venue, and watched them repeat the course again an hour later. Stray wasn’t impressed, and found himself pressed up against one of the widows watching the people mingle, nursing a glass of fucking champagne of all things. He was bored, uncomfortable and on edge. A combination that Stray usually found resolved after a bit of mischief. 

Stray nudged the the VP standing at his side with his elbow, gesturing to one of the security guys, looking particularly frazzled behind his mask, trying to explain to a couple of women that the upper floor was closed to guests, “y'know, I heard there’s a bottle of scotch up there worth about 15k. More of a beer guy myself, but… y'down t’ try ‘n get us a taste of it?”

Sid wasn’t an anomaly in feeling out of place at this ball, in all honestly just the idea of him having attended a ball in his lifetime gave him pause. Yet not showing at a town event, when it was expected and anything could off the walls wasn’t an option either. His plans for later that evening already included a much more casual after party at the clubhouse, without any thought of champagne, neckties and civilities. For now he stood with his arms crossed, annoyed that he felt the stiffness of the jacket constricting the expanse of his shoulders. Sav had taken upon herself to pick up his suit and he’d been more than happy to allow it, with little note other than black and nothing else.

Looking over at Stray when he spoke up, a grin curled up at the corner of his mouth the idea instantly appealing to him before rationale took over. Though he did consider it a while longer than he should’ve knowing it was a bad idea. “It’d be a far better time nixing the mayors personal stash, though best not to stir up shit tonight. ‘Sides I don’ think I wanna miss any of the action if shit stirs up down here like last time.” He affirmed, gaze sweeping over the room in search of his sisters as he said it, while they’d scathed by untouched the last time he didn’t even wanna think about things going that route again.

“Even married or taken, that’s asking for trouble. If you wanna know who I can see myself with tonight, there are many beautiful woman around but long term, I’ll pass.”

Sometimes he thought about learning how to fix cars and bikes, because honestly, he was not the biggest fan of having to depend so much on others to help him out with anything. Unfortunately, his bike seemed to not care at all about that, as it just stopped working, and he couldn’t figure out why, so there he went to the auto, but he seemed to have arrived on a bad time, as when he was just getting out of his car, Sid was coming out, and he seemed in a hurry, “Oh, it can wait, if I knew that you would be going out, I wouldn’t even have come, it’s not an emergency.”

Sid shortened his stride long enough to register who he’d just brushed passed, turning seconds later to face the younger man, as a thought occurred to him. “Foster yeah?” He stated, less a question more a confirmation. “You got any contacts with the Lodi PD?” He asked, not having been paying much attention to what Edward had said as he’d gone by, with his mind elsewhere, and annoyance growing by the minute as his initial reaction died down.

𝑺𝒊𝒅 𝑴𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝑩𝒂𝒍𝒍

Lia knew that she was dealing with ‘criminals’ as some of the people in Charming would call the Devils and the Wolves but since she’d normally see them at La Luna either with their friends having some sort of celebration or just being surrounded by good company or wallowing in their problems alone by the bar counter top, and after the entire debacle that was her marriage to Brian, she liked to think she had a tougher skin now. Still, she had to admit, she felt intimidated when she was faced with the Vice President of the Devils. “Then make time because it’s pretty important,” Lia said, taking the gun out of her bag with a hanky – stupidly not wanting to get her prints on it for her own reasons – before shooting Sid a pointed look. “One of your people literally left that at the bar. In plain sight last night. I don’t know how used to you guys are to guns just lying around but I’m not, and not in my bar,” she said, handing it over. “Please don’t let them do that again.”

Sid didn’t typically wear the cold blank face that usually came as a result of extreme anger or frustration as he did now. The bar owner had just gotten him on a particularly bad day by the way it was already shaping out. “Careful darling, I’m not too keen on taking orders from anyone.” He began, as the sight of her pulling a gun from her purse his nostrils flared, and he stepped into her perhaps too close for comfort but more than anything so she would move with him so they stood angled away from the cameras fixed around the auto lot for the shops security, unlike inside the clubhouse. He took the gun from between them ducking his head to first check if the safety was on before he scanned it for numbers quickly. He didn’t need to reach back to check if he had his semi-automatic tucked into the back of his jeans there was little chance he was taking it back inside or on the road with him. “How about you walk this into the clubhouse, someone’ll take it off your hands. You don’t wanna to be pulling glocks out o’  your little handbag in broad daylight. Not a good look.”

Marcus had unhappily left Addie and Faith this morning, usually he didn’t mind coming up to the club house. The hesitation to leave his girls was always there but recently there had been so many fights and tensions between everyone. It was his job to make sure everything was running smoothly and right now that wasn’t the case. Running his hand down his face he raised an eyebrow when Sid walked by, snapping at him. “If I need you, you’re going to be here.” He didn’t care who it was, he wasn’t in the mood for more fighting, from anyone. “Now what’s got you so pissed off?”