Year/Job
Owner of Club Brielle
He's good bad, but he's not evil. |
Travis
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Post by Lawrence Gable on Jan 17, 2024 20:54:37 GMT -8
9:30 AM Most days during the school year, Lawrence got an early start at the club. No kids, no wife, only a man and his business. He arrived before any of his employees, double checking every detail of the floor: tapping kegs, polishing tables, even taking a magnifying case to the upholstered booths to search for any cracks from the night before. Every night at Club Brielle was as fresh as its grand opening, which itself was one of the happiest nights of Lawrence's life. Of course this routine was all part of Lawrence's desire to please, but there was something deeper to it too. Lawrence had an obligation to the name.
When he was finished, he set the music in the club and retired to his office upstairs.
12:00 PM Office time usually involved catching up on the news in the dailies and taking the occasional call in the fireplace from the various small businessmen he associated with from around the magical world. The Prophet never failed to have something entertaining and sometimes even turn up a potentially profitable opportunity, whether it was a story about the new stadium breaking ground in Ballycastle, or a suspiciously worded advertisement in the classifieds. Today's top story was about a midnight heist on a Quinn Brooms warehouse in Bristol. Lawrence shook his head as he read the news.
2:00 PM In the late afternoon, Lawrence had a meeting on the east end of London. While many businessmen of his kind preferred to transact business at night, Lawrence found that, as counterintuitive as it might sound, it was easier to avoid snooping eyes in the daylight. He met with a trio of associates on a quiet side street in the shadow of a bridge. They were led by Rudy, a young thief who was eager to impress Lawrence. He presented Lawrence with three crates full of brooms.
Lawrence shook his head, pointing at the gold "Q" painted on the wood paneling. "Do you know what that means?"
"Quality!" Rudy smiled.
"Yeah," Lawrence said. "That's because they're Quinn brooms. You rip off the Bristol warehouse last night?"
"Almost definitely!" Rudy bounced on his heels as he admitted to the theft.
Lawrence glanced at Rudy's two associates standing by the crates, then motioned for Rudy to walk with him. When their backs were turned toward the two thugs Lawrence said quietly, "I need you to take these back."
"What for?" Rudy asked, looking back at his buddies. "These are the latest model, I got it all worked out. They're staggering production and demand's through the roof. You could flip 'em for three times market price, easy."
"Yeah," Lawrence nodded slowly. "Only it's the name, Rudy."
"Shit," Rudy breathed.
"That's right," Lawrence continued nodding. "And I'm already in dutch with Mrs. Gable as it is. Stealing from the Quinns is like stealing from myself. Take them back and apologize."
"You want me to apologize? They'll throw me in Azkaban!"
"Michael won't do anything," Lawrence said. "I'll take care of it. Just take it back, apologize. You have to mean it, though. Michael's nothing if not sincere. After that he goes to the media and explains how he recovered his merchandise and worked out the matter privately. He won't want to dox the thieves because they're young kids and he thinks everyone has the capacity to change. From there, you go on doing what you do, Michael gets his merchandise back and some good press. Everybody wins."
"Okay," Rudy nodded. "Are you mad at me?"
"Of course not," Lawrence laughed. "You're a smart kid, and what's important is that you took initiative. Not a lot of people can pull off something like this under Michael Quinn's nose, and a lot of smart thieves have tried. I think we can build from this."
Rudy smiled with a little shrug as Lawrence patted him on the shoulder.
2:45 PM Lawrence's pep talk with Rudy was interrupted by his cellphone. It was common for a certain class of magic citizen to do business with a cell, being a rare form of communication that the Ministry of Magic hadn't started tracking.
"Don't do anything else," Lawrence said into the receiver. "Just stay put."
Lawrence apparated to an abandoned warehouse on the other side of London where he met another associate, Peanut. Peanut was pacing outside of the warehouse.
"He's inside with Devlin," Peanut said when Lawrence approached.
"Inside that scary warehouse?" Lawrence asked, studying the building's boarded up windows. The faint sound of a wailing from inside mixed with the soft rainfall. "Why? I said take care of him."
"Right," Peanut nodded. "I thought you meant like," Peanut used air quotes here. "'Take care of him,' y'know, like euphemistically?"
"No. God no," Lawrence shook his head.
The large double doors of the warehouse swing open as Devlin stepped outside. For a moment the wailing was so loud that it touch Lawrence's soul, but was quieted once again as the heavy door swung closed. Lawrence's eyes were wide as he studied Devlin, standing there in the wet gravel, his knuckles scabbed over and leather jacket splattered with blood.
"What are you doing in there?" Lawrence asked. "Are you pulling teeth? Where did you get those?" he pointed to the two incisors resting in Devlin's outstretched hand. "Did you bring plyers with you?"
"I thought I would try accio—" Devlin started. "He said 'accio teeth' and they popped right out," Peanut finished.
Lawrence blinked. "Okay, this is fine," he said. "We can work with this. You gave him the stick, he'll be more receptive to the carrot now."
"You want me to give him a carrot, sir?" Peanut asked.
"Get him out of the country," Lawrence said. "Buy him a condo in Daytona or Orlando, Brits love Florida. Set him up with some real estate, some passive income to live on. Just make him happy, okay? Get him a horse. Dudes like horses."
Peanut looked through Lawrence like he was speaking a dead language.
Lawrence shook his head and said, "Look, it's my fault, Peanut. I should have been more specific. I know things were different in your old crew but Gable boys don't hurt people. We make dreams come true, okay? Take the money I gave you and send him to Orlando. Actual Orlando, It's not a code for like, a shallow grave on the moors. And please, put his teeth back in."
3:30 PM When Lawrence was finished with his afternoon meetings, he returned home to call his children who had just finished classes for the day. This was Lawrence's favorite ritual of the day, catching up on events at Hogwarts and progress of his children's studies. It was hard to believe that Claire was already studying for her NEWTs, and the OWLs weren't fat off for little Rufio. He tried to avoid the topic of mom with them, though Claire did manage to slip her in a couple of times which Lawrence tactfully deflected.
6:00 PM Lawrence enjoyed a microwave dinner as he rewatched Michigan's National Title game.
9:00 PM Andi greeted Lawrence when he returned to the club. He made an appearance most nights, floating around the VIP booth to get some exposure with whichever Quidditch player, musician, writer, or even the occasional celebrity Auror was visiting that night. Tonight, however nodded toward the bar and Lawrence knew immediately what the gesture meant. As manager of Club Brielle, Andi's duties involved not just running the day to day operations of the club, but also keeping track of Lawrence's varied associates. One, of course, was more important than any of the others.
Lawrence settled in next to Brielle saying, "Too nice of a night to be alone." He put his hand around her waist, for a moment feigning some normalcy in their marriage. "What are you drinking, Ms. Quinn?"
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Year/Job
National Quidditch Team Sporting Director
Wizengamot
Goddamn, she murdered everybody and I was her witness. |
Gryffindor
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Post by Gabrielle Quinn on Jan 17, 2024 23:03:38 GMT -8
When did Brielle start turning into her mother? Not only did she look more like Camilla each day, her decisions and attitude mimicked the way her mother handled her own marriage, down to the divorce. Thank Merlin the kids are old enough to be away from the mess Larry and Brielle created for themselves these last couple of months. It was supposed to be a clean break, but these things are never easy especially when you spent more than half of your life with someone. She had so many things to think about; properties, deeds, finances, custody. And that wasn't even half of it. She still had to juggle the upcoming draft and sit through some trials thanks to her newly appointed seat in the Wizengamot.
And now this. The packet had been sent back after a week of waiting and when she took a second to scan it in between scouting reports, she felt her blood boiling. It seemed that Lawrence was dragging his feet on this, even though they had both agreed that this was the best for them and for their family. She tried calling Larry even though she despised using that muggle technology. It sent her straight to voicemail. So now she had to take time out of her busy schedule to find him and get him to sign the damn paper.
Larry followed a schedule and it wasn't like it was hard for Brielle to find him. Sometimes, though, he was away doing whatever deal he had to do at random times of the day. Her best bet was to wait at Club Brielle.
Club Brielle's opening was also one of Brielle's happiest memories. It had been the beginning of their rise to power. Larry had promised the world and he had delivered every step of the way. Brielle was so close to reaching her goal now, she could almost taste it. It was all so bittersweet that he wasn't by her side.
Brielle walked into the club like she owned it. And if things went the way they were going, she would own half of the place in a couple of months. She gave Andi as small nod as a greeting before taking a seat at one of the bar's leather stools and setting her bag on the counter. Her fingertips tapped the black granite top, signaling that she was getting impatient even though she had just arrived.
"Too nice of a night to be alone."
For all of the flaws and reasons Brielle had given as excuses as to why she was going through this, Larry's timing was never one of them. Sometimes she thought he just had a sixth sense when it came to knowing where she was. She felt him sit next to her, but her eyes stayed focused on her dark red fingernails still taping on the bar top. It wasn't until she felt his hand on her waist that she stopped and turned her body slightly to face his. His hand lingered on her waist for a second too long.
"I don't plan on leaving alone. I'm looking for my next husband," she joked, but given the circumstances it wasn't really that funny.
"What are you drinking, Ms. Quinn?"
Ms. Quinn. That stung more than she had anticipated.
"Cosmo." A very Camilla kind of drink. Of course, Brielle couldn't run away from her destiny.
Brielle watched Larry in silence for a minute, thinking of how to phrase her first question.
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about a break in at a warehouse in Bristol, would you?" Her voice was low in an attempt to keep their conversation private. No one was around them at the bar though.
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Year/Job
Owner of Club Brielle
He's good bad, but he's not evil. |
Travis
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Post by Lawrence Gable on Jan 19, 2024 16:07:18 GMT -8
Lawrence and Brielle had been an item for so long it was hard to tell now who had made who, but the truth was a bit more complicated than that. They only existed as one, building off of each other until they took the roles they were always made to play. For Lawrence it was a successful businessman with a lot of opportunities on the side. For Brielle, it was building an empire out of her name and strength. Maybe, ultimately, that was why they didn't work. How could two people sit at the top together?
Tuesday nights at Club Brielle were already slow, but nine in the evening was off-peak, which meant that they had the bar mostly to themselves. Lawrence didn't wait for the bartender to work her way down to them. Instead, he removed his coat, sat it on the stool, then hopped over the bartop to mix Brielle's drink for her.
"I heard about Bristol," Lawrence said, reaching for the Cointreau. He didn't bother lowering his voice, confident that nobody who frequented Club Brielle would ever cross him. "One of my new guys pulled off the heist because he thought it would impress me. He didn't tell me it was Quinn stock or I would have never given it the green light. He's taking it back to your father." Lawrence laughed. "I guess it'll be a nice crisis for Liliana in her first week."
Lawrence sat the cocktail class down before Brielle with a small smile. Seeing her in the light of the club that bared her name always brought him back to the good memories: the early days when this place was just a dusty old skeleton of a building and the club itself was only a vision. Lawrence walked Brielle through the empty space, showing her exactly where the bar would be, the seating, the live music. The future was limitless back then.
"I talked to the kids," Lawrence said when the moment had passed. "Claire's acing NEWT level transfigurations, obviously, but Rufio's falling behind in flying. I told him that you weren't going to be happy about that."
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Year/Job
National Quidditch Team Sporting Director
Wizengamot
Goddamn, she murdered everybody and I was her witness. |
Gryffindor
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Post by Gabrielle Quinn on Jan 27, 2024 23:37:54 GMT -8
Brielle clicked her tongue in disapproval when Lawrence started talking at a normal volume. He was always so confident that no one could touch them, but Brielle wasn't so sure anymore. Ever since their separation Brielle realized how exposed she really was. While Larry didn't mind talking about his business out loud, Brielle had too much to lose if one of his associates decided to turn on him.
She reached for the martini glass and swirled it before bringing it up to her lips as she listened. She didn't even like cosmos, but it was the first drink she had at Club Brielle and she was searching for some comfort tonight. The anger she had felt earlier and the unsigned paper in her purse was forgotten as the alcohol burned down her throat.
"Liliana has the perfect opportunity to prove herself," she said, placing the cold glass down on the black granite again. Brielle didn't know why Michael couldn't wait a couple more years for Anya to retire and try to convince her to take over the company, but she couldn't say she was too surprised. Her dad seemed to finally realize Brielle wasn't going to do it herself even after the divorce he had hoped for. Liliana had given him almost twenty years of her life and Brielle, for once, was happy to let her have what she wanted. "You're lucky she has a soft spot for you because Michael would have loved to destroy you once and for all."
That was Larry's strength; knowing the right people. While Brielle had connections, she had never been good with other people. It was Larry's influence and guidance that helped her get this far in the Ministry. She had to do the rest by herself. It was kind of lonely at the top. When Larry mentioned the kids, she kinda perked up a bit. Her gaze moved from the bar top to Lawrence and she finally made eye contact with him.
Brielle never had to worry about Claire; she was just like Larry and she'd always find a way to take care of herself. Rufio was a different story. He was sensitive like Brielle but lacked her might.
"Flying? He's a Quinn. He just needs to apply himself and work harder. I should go down there and have a word with his instructor." Her eyes narrowed and she tapped her fingernails on the bar again. "What was your reaction when he told you?"
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Year/Job
Owner of Club Brielle
He's good bad, but he's not evil. |
Travis
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Post by Lawrence Gable on Feb 7, 2024 15:18:10 GMT -8
Lawrence was never afraid to talk business in the club. Brielle was walking out of the Ministry, a world where every action was scrutinized and secrets were tough to keep. He thought that world made sense to Brielle because she thrived on structure. But Lawrence preferred his world, the one where everyone could be bought with a price and as long as you paid high enough, they left you alone. The secret to his uninhibited success was that, unlike other criminals of his caliber, Lawrence didn’t leave long trails of bodies behind him. Aurors rarely came in, but when they did, they came as friends.
He watched as Brielle swirled the drink in her glass and raised it up to her lips, if it burned going down, she didn’t let Lawrence know. The Brielle he knew had never been much of a drinker, only on social occasions like the Club Brielle grand opening or the numerous times they’d hosted a joint citizen she’d hope to flip for the national team’s roster. He wondered how many drinks she’d had since the separation. It wasn’t a fear that Brielle was spiraling into a dark place without him, more like a fear that she would be a different person, losing her was bad enough, but seeing her change felt unbearable.
But for just a moment they were able to speak civilly as Lawrence mixed his own drink.
- One part gin - One part vodka - One part Caracao - One part lemon lime
“An Aqua Velva,” he said as he took a sip from his glass. “Blue like the state of Michigan. Wann try it?”
“You're lucky she has a soft spot for you,” Brielle said about Liliana. “Michael would have loved to destroy you once and for all.”
“I guess it did kind of work out,” Lawrence smiled a little bitterly. If it were up to Michael Quinn, he would have brought the full force of the Ministry to Club Brielle to haul Lawrence away. It wasn’t part of some long con to befriend Liliana so that she would repay him in kindness when she took over the company. He genuinely loved his sister in law and was happy to see everything working out for her. Of course, he wouldn’t deny that it was good for his business, too.
“He’s a sensitive kid,” Lawrence said when the conversation shifted to Rufio’s flying. “He never had a problem with his trainers when he was younger. If I had to guess, it’s his way of punishing us for splitting up.” Lawrence didn’t say that flying was Brielle’s passion and it was more likely Rufio was trying to punish her. It was too cruel for him to think. “Just go easy on him,” he continued softly. “He doesn’t understand.”
Hell, Lawrence hardly understood anymore.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I told Ru that we loved him no matter what, and if he didn’t want to fly anymore he doesn’t have to. He’s really into art these days anyway.”
Lawrence searched Brielle’s eyes for a reaction. She was less predictable these days that she had ever been. But goddammit, when he looked into those eyes he couldn’t hold any anger for her. She was more beautiful too, and if they were in a different life, if she was a complete stranger, he’d start this thing between them every single time. He wished he could be someone different. He wished, for just one night, they could pretend like they’d never met and just try again.
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