bakerstreet | Roommates

Roommates

Perhaps you were best friends who decided to make rent cheaper by living together, a couple who took the plunge and moved in together, or you could just be some random people thrown together by circumstance and really needing a place to live.

Either way, you're sharing a flat (or maybe even a room) now! What's going to happen?

You know this drill:
- Post your character name, series and any preferences.
- Go to RNG (1-12) and tag around.
- Have fun!

PROMPTS:
( moving day )
Boxes. So. Many. Boxes. Whether you're moving in or out, they've got to go. Is your roommate willing to lend a hand?

( chores )
Whose turn is it to take out the trash? How about the dishes?

( pets )
Not only are you sharing a living space, you're sharing space with an animal. There could be allergies, behavioral issues, or an unexpected exercise partner. Most importantly, do you have to hide them from the super? Hmm, maybe not the fishtank.

( uninvited guests )
Could be a party, could be a significant other that seems to have moved in... you just weren't expecting company tonight.

( the noisy one )
Is there anything worse than paper thin walls and a noisy flatmate? You can hear everything they're doing... even (or especially) the TMI.

( the friendly one )
Oh, lucky you, you've scored someone who wants to try and make things as good as possible for you both! Don't waste this now. It might just be the greatest thing you could have.

( the tmi one )
OH GOD why did you walk in during that? Nope, backing out now... unless you're into that. Why do they keep telling you things, as well? Gosh.

( the disaster )
There's not even words. These are the ones the internet warned you about. A little TMI or noise? That is nothing compared to the crazy you're stuck with right now.

( a night in )
Game night, movies, TV marathons, whatever you like. You and your flatmate are going to hunker down with some popcorn and have fun.

( the fight )
Chore chart not working out? Someone is always late with the rent? It just isn't working out. Time to have that confrontation you're been putting off. Good luck.

( shopping )
Whether you're going for groceries or furniture (or fun!), you and your flatmate are hitting the shops and spending some cash.

( the other )
Thought of something not on here? Go for it! Mix and match your options or anything else!

MEME ORIGINALLY BY

attentionboys. with minor modifications

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

Murphy noticed the newcomer as well. Hard not to with how he looked, like he was trying not to be noticed. Only drew more attention to himself that way, as far as Murphy was concerned. But his attention was drawn back to to his groceries as the attendant called out the total and then started to calculate what it would be in American.

When the new total was said, Murphy spread his hands to either side, "I could've told you that."

And then the kid in the hoodie had a gun up to the cashier's face and was yelling loudly, "Everyone get your hands up! You! Open the drawer and put all the money in a bag!"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Murphy called out without thought, hands definitely going into the air and looking fairly concerned. "There's no need for all that!"

Peter's hands instantly go up as the kid barges past him, gun drawn. He gets a glimpse of his face as he passes...

...And it's the kid from his file. The one he's supposed to assess to see if he had any talent. Well... Luckily, that means Peter knows his name. Let's see if it's his true name.

Keeping his hands up, Peter moves a few steps to the right to get in position.

"Hey." He calls out, calm as anything, aiming to catch his gaze when he looks up. "Your name is Ian Glaives."

A statement, not a question.

Ian is not the only one who turned to look at Peter in surprise and confusion. Both Murphy and the cashier did, as well.

"You know this asshole?" Murphy asked, surprised, lowering his hands slightly.

"Hands up!" Ian snapped. Murphy's hands lifted again. "He doesn't know me!" The gun swung around to point at Peter. "You don't know me, man!"

Murphy shared a look with the cashier. The guy definitely knew the kid.

And their eyes lock. Bingo.

"I want you to put the gun down, Ian." Peter says, almost as if commanding. His voice is calm... Oddly so. "I want you to put the gun down and step away from the cashier."

He keeps his hands up, eye contact maintained. He's not moving other than to speak.

"Can you do that for me, Ian? Put the gun down."

Ian stared, like he wasn't able to look away even if he wanted to. And the guy talking to him wasn't any less weird. But as far as Murphy could tell, he might actually be getting through to the kid. Or at least had his full attention. To the point that Murphy began slowly shuffling to the side, around the back end of the check out, and the cashier went still, hands in the money drawer but not doing anything.

What the hell was going on?

"Lower... The gun." Peter persists, sweat beading on his brow. This wasn't exactly easy for him, but he was managing to keep his voice laden with fae mesmer to start to crack through.

"Ian, lower the gun and put it on the counter."

Ian couldn't even blink. He just stared at Peter, less and less aware of the situation and surroundings as the seconds passed. Slowly, ever so slowly, his arm started to lower to the side.

Murphy let his hands drop as he came up alongside the cashier. He settled his fingers on the shoulders of the kid and quietly urged him to step back so he could get through. By the time the gun had been set on the counter and Ian's hands were being pulled away for it, Murphy had gotten into the perfect position to jump him.

And jump him, he did. He hauled back and punched him in the side of the head, sending the kid sprawling. He twisted around, grabbed the gun and had it aimed for Ian in the split seconds that followed so when Ian came to his senses and started to scramble to his feet, he was at the other end of it.

"I think that's far enough," Murphy said, breathing a little heavily.

The second the contact is broken by Murphy, Peter stumbles, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the world from spinning.

He opens them when he hears Murphy's voice.

"Call the police." Peter says to the cashier, before looking at Murphy. "Don't shoot him. He's just a kid."

The cashier is scrambling off to call 999, leaving the three all alone.

"Wasn't planning on it," Murphy said, staring down at the kid. "But if he moves, I will. You know how to tie any fucking knots?"

That needed to take care of that before he could begin to address anything else. "If you do, there's some twine under the register. Could take care of his hands and make sure this doesn't go any worse for him."

Does a bear shit in the woods?

"Right."

Peter's wiping the sweat from his brow, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves. He doesn't want his fingerprints all over this place. As he gets closer, he can tell Ian doesn't have any supernatural signal.

Shame. Kid would have probably done better at Redbright.

He grabs the twine and starts tying it around Ian's wrists.

"There. It's not a fucking knot, but it'll do until the cops get here."

Just trying to lighten the mood.

"Good," Murphy grinned before his face went deadly serious and he swung the gun up to point at Peter's face. "Now keep your fucking hands up and your goddamned head down. I see even a hint of those eyes trying ta find mine, I'll make sure you don't get the chance to see anyone again."

Peter's expression shifts into a frown, before he quickly ducks his head down.

"Okay... This is a bit much. After all, I just kinda saved the day."

He's sharp. Further proof that he was dealing with Murphy MacManus. That said... The Saints always worked in pairs. Where was the other one?

"You fucking ensorcelled him, is what you did," Murphy bit out. "Used your voice to twist his mind. Thought no one would fucking recognize it. Well I fucking did. Now turn the fuck around."

Peter's going to slowly stand, hands still raised. His mind is reeling.

"I prefer the term 'bamboozled'." He grunts, "And, put it this way; I either stepped in, or someone would have gotten hurt."

"Hard to say for sure." Murphy stepped around Ian and pressed the gun to Peter's back. "Ian here might have left everyone the fuck alone once he got his money. He doesn't seem like the sort to hurt people, just be fucking stupid."

The comment was definitely aimed at Ian, who was hunched in on himself now.

"Alright, start walking. You're going to the restroom."

"Hey, woah. That's cruel and unusual punishment, man. Do you know what goes on in public restrooms over here?"

He is going to start walking, though. Slowly. He's not too sure if revealing he knows who Murphy is would be a good thing right now...

"Besides, my partner's gonna be coming in here any second to check up on me. And if you think a little mind game is bad... Hoo-ee, you ain't seen a pissed off vampire yet."

Murphy pressed the barrel of the gun harder into his back. "Shut the fuck up and stop stalling."

The possibility of a vampire coming in wasn't something he wanted or needed to hear. And he didn't know if it was a bluff or not. But if it wasn't, he needed to get the guy locked up so he could safely get out of there.

"Hurry it up!"

"Look, I really don't need to get locked in a bathroom when I need to be doing work to stop the cops from finding out who we all are."

Because these would be regular human cops.

"That includes you, too." He chances. Might as well. "Wouldn't want a whole city's police force on the lookout because I didn't get to work, would you?"

"What I want, is for you to shut. the fuck. up." Each pause was punctuated by a shove with the barrel of the gun.

"When those cops get here, they can let you out. Or Charlie back there. I don't really care. But it's going to be after I'm gone. So fucking move already."

The assumption he wasn't human rankled, but he wasn't going to correct the fucker, either. He had a brother to get back to and then they needed to haul ass and find a new place to live.

"Alright, but don't blame me when the entirety of Greater London Metropolitan Police are on your ass just because I didn't wipe a security camera."

He puts a hand on the door to the restroom, turning the handle.

"Just think about that. It could have oh-so-easily been fixed. The computer's just over there." A pause. "And shooting it won't work. It's networked."

Edited (Making things too easy. :P) 2016-10-07 01:58 (UTC)

Murphy had no idea what 'networked' meant. But the warning had made him pause because as soon as the man had mentioned the computer, Murphy had stepped back with the intent of turning and shooting it real quick. Couldn't get into it if it was destroyed right? Right.

But he also didn't want to appear ignorant in front of a guy who had the same ability as the fuckers that trapped him and Connor for a few months and turned out to be sixteen fucking years. And they'd only been 'out' of the Other Realm for a month or so. Not really enough time to learn all the ins and outs of the stuff they still needed to.

"Fine," he said after another moment of hesitation. "You go wipe it and then you get your ass in the toilet. But you keep your back to me, motherfucker, or there'll be hole in it."

A hidden grin, there. It had worked. He had bought himself some time.

It's entirely likely that the computer wouldn't be networked. Sure, Tesco was a big, nationwide chain, but that just meant the cut corners. He approaches the computer, making his movements as open as possible.

"I hope you're not trigger happy, man, 'cause I got a wife and kid back home in Boston. I'd rather not have my four year-old find out her daddy got shot by someone he saved in a robbery."

He starts working on the computer, firstly by guessing the password.

"That, and my wife kinda holds a grudge, y'know?"

Was the guy pulling some other shit out of his ass to bring up Boston? That seemed a little too convenient a mention. It only made Murphy more nervous and he'd already wasted too much time as it was. Connor was probably freaking out, wondering where he was.

"I don't want you talking," he finally said, this time pressing the gun into Peter's head. "Let me have your wallet."

"Coat, right pocket."

He's not going to risk reaching for it.

"And do you mind? I'm trying to find the exact timestamp to echo here, and that's pretty distracting."

Sure enough, Peter's wallet is in his coat pocket. There's a Boston driving license, about £30 in cash, a debit card... And an FBI Consultant's ID badge. Along with a photo of Peter, a beautiful blond woman, an older man with crazy hair and a baby girl. Can't be more than two or three.

"You're the one that keeps fucking talking." Murphy switched hands to pat the man down and find what he was looking for.

Peter Bishop. Well, the Boston thing wasn't a lie at any rate. Or the wife and kid. And an FBI consultant. Fuck. He was a good man, doing a good thing. Fuck. Murphy set the wallet on the desk next to him. Then lowered the gun and pinched the bridge of his nose. He sucked in a deep breath before picking the wallet back up and digging through it.

After Murphy put it back on the desk, he held £10 up in Peter's line of sight. "For my trouble, aye?" This time he was actually asking.

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