Reaver's Unfortunate Wheel of Misfortune || Jack, Stella Beck, Logan Black

[Mac Taylor]

 

tag: jack harkness, stella beck, logan black

words: 654

notes: this post has been here long enough. you know what's what. and, yes, we are totally kidnapping reaver for this thread's purpose. bonesy sends his love, darlings. 

"Oh, please! What would ever make you think that?!" Great... Another 'let's pick yourself off the floor' thing... Just what I needed. Mac really didn't want to get up. He couldn't explain why the back of his head was sore or why he couldn't pick a name to match the voice he came back to his senses to hear, but he didn't like it. It had been bad enough when he'd had the bad luck to wake up and end up aiming a gun at Albion's ruler. Exactly when was fate going to stop attempting to throw him off-guard entirely? He growled quietly in distaste. I'm going to hell for all of this!

At least he wasn't tied down anywhere. He had bad experiences with that. Of course, they were a long time behind him, but he could still remember those times. Times when he sure as hell should've accepted the offer of backup. Anyways... Now... As to where he was and why...? The same question that he'd asked when he'd first showed up in Albion. This just couldn't get better, could it?

He raked a hand over his face, accepting that if he didn't get up now, he'd still have to get up later. God only knew what he'd open his eyes to, but he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him he wouldn't like whatever it was... Regardless, he finally rolled onto his back and propped his arms underneath himself, struggling to get a handle on a context for what he was looking at.

This was certainly not Bowerstone Castle. It probably wasn't Bowerstone, period. The little he'd seen of the city had looked nothing like this, he was certain of that much. Wherever this was, he didn't like it, and he certainly didn't like that he didn't have any reason as to why he was here, but everyone that he laid eyes on seemed to know that exact reason. Good God, it was one of those games.

"Yes, yes, c'mon now!" Mac's first reaction was an unwelcoming glare. Something about the tone of this unfamiliar gentleman that he had identified as the owner of the voice held something Mac just wasn't certain of. "The rest of the guests are waiting, so step up, step up, and take your chance!"

That's about as close to that two-headed dragon I think I'll get, he thought as he stood, his distrusting gaze taking in the few people that stood with the tall man. They were all dressed up. Obviously he had missed the memo that this was something of great importance. "Come on then! Don't be shy!" Mac had to fight hard to bite back a smart remark that he didn't know where he was while everyone else apparently seemed to know as he took the suggestion and hesitantly took a few steps closer towards the center of the room. He couldn't miss the various other halls that seemed to lead off from this very spot... Not to mention that feeling that was mentioned earlier? It was more like an alarm going off in his face telling him something was very wrong...

"Well, then! We're only waiting on a few more guests, so... Ehm... Make yourself comfortable!" Mac barely paid that sentence any mind. His attention was more taken by the strangeness of this place... One, the people... Two, the situation... And three? Don't even get started on three... "We'll be starting soon, so I do hope you're ready!"

Now Mac couldn't help but scowl. "Ready for what?" he muttered, allowing his gaze to linger on the stranger for a few more moments as the tall man turned to attend to what Mac assumed were his guests. From what he saw so far..., he had a very good feeling that he wasn't going to like exactly what was going to go down.... No, this didn't seem good at all...

♔ nickdiazfan

[Jack Harkness]

running to the railroad track, run along with captain jack
LEFT RIGHT, RIGHT LEFT  
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The last thing Jack remembered was downing drinks at a Bowerstone tavern with a funny name that had something to do with chickens. His adventure around Albion had certainly provided him with the adrenaline rushes he so badly craved while living out in Silverpines, but it made him miss his team even more. How he wished they were here with him! Originally Jack had wanted to go back to Cardiff, but he'd come to enjoy Albion with its weird creatures and monsters, its people, hell, even the food! But it just wasn't the same without his beloved Torchwood. He missed them all so much. His only fear was that they thought that he'd run off again without letting them all know and they hated him for it. His heart gave a pang at that thought and Jack downed the rest of his drink to stop thinking.

Somewhere in between all the brooding thoughts, a relatively handsome chap in a top-hat that defied gravity and a black heart tattoo on his cheek had sidled up to him and began chatting. No, not just chatting, but flirting. Jack, never one to deny someone the pleasure of a good flirt, had taken up the challenge with gusto. The chat had turned to where each of them were from. After some initial hesitation, Jack had confessed that he wasn't a native Albionite like the chap was. Consequently the chat turned to where Jack was from and the man regaled the other with tales of Cardiff and the Torchwood team. The dark-haired stranger had listened intently to Jack's stories, a strange smile crossing his features. The smile had unnerved Jack slightly, but he paid the feeling no mind and kept talking. As he talked, Jack felt his eyes grow heavy and try as he might he was unable to win the battle over sleep. So he'd slumped, right there, the tankard dropping to the floor with a clatter.

And now he was here. Wherever the hell 'here' was. He groaned as he sat up, blearily looking around. This certainly wasn't the tavern, nor any other place he'd seen on his travels around Albion. His mind began thinking of places where he could be, but thinking hurt and so he stopped, opting instead to just survey his surroundings. His head felt like it had been hit with a TARDIS, and as Jack rubbed his head a scowl crossed his features as he realized exactly what had happened. Damn bastard had spiked his drink! That's the last time I'll ever drink with overly-fancily dressed Albionites in ridiculous tophats, he thought angrily to himself, though at the back of his mind that wasn't likely to happen. Jack couldn't resist handsome strangers and a good flirt. And as long as he was immortal, it didn't matter what sort of situations he managed to get himself into; there was always a way out.

Standing up, he looked around the place. It screamed of riches and wealth, and Jack gave a slight shudder at the thought of what might be in store. The richest were always the strangest. Looking up he realized that the room was a pit of sorts, and up high there was a ledge where people in lavish costumes stood watching. It's almost like a...gladiator pit... Up high on one wall was a wheel, with odd little pictures all around the sides, and a feeling of unease crept up on Jack. Instinctively he reached for his gun, giving a sigh of relief to find it still tucked away in his holster. Whatever this night would bring, he was ready.

NOTES So excited about this! Also, if you notice Jack not being played right, lemme know please!
OUTFIT Regular Jack outfit
CREDITS  Song "Captain Jack" ~ Template by Doe-Eyed Harlot of Caution.

[Queen Stella Beck]

••• If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late •••
••• Could you say goodbye to yesterday? •••

Stella really didn't want to be here. In fact, this was the very last place that the queen of Albion wished to be in. It was bad enough that she had to put up with Reaver on an almost daily basis, but to be forced into seeing him in her leisure time, well, it was all too much. But Jasper had insisted. Reaver was, he reminded her, the biggest donor to the royal treasury. Stella was sure that Reaver only did it so that when he needed a giant favour, she would be less likely to say no to him, but since he helped keep Albion away from destitution, she was going to keep such thoughts to herself.

Tonight the business man was hosting one of his famous parties. Reaver's parties were renowned across Albion for lots of drinking, sex, and the odd game of "Spin Reaver's Wheel Of Misfortune" where unlucky participants, usually lowly commoners or mercenaries, had to battle it out against a series of creatures for the entertainment and amusement of Reaver's guests. It would have been wonderful entertainment for bloodthirsty citizens, which Stella guessed all of Reaver's guests were if they willingly attended such parties. It wasn't what Stella would personally call fun, nor was it something she would dream of attending had she not been pushed into it. She would be much more happier spending the night with Mac at The Cock in the Crown, drinking with the commoners, instead of rubbing elbows with Albion's rich and refined, but it wasn't her choice it seemed. Jasper had insisted, and when Jasper insisted upon something, it simply had to be done, whether you wanted to or not. The queen was certain that for most of the rich in Millfields, Reaver's parties were the highlight of their month; she simply found them distasteful.

But despite whinging and grumbling as she did so, much to the annoyance of Jasper though he was polite enough not to show it, Stella had found herself a dress, did her hair and make-up, and headed out into the castle gardens to the Cullis Gate to take her to the party. The beauty and elegance of her ensemble was only slightly ruined by the Hero sword strapped to her back and the spell gauntlets that she'd managed to squeeze into a red satin purse. She'd explained her need for weaponry as wanting to be prepared just in case she was ambushed on her walk from the Millfields Cullis Gate to Reaver's Manor, but in actual fact she wanted to have her weaponry just in case the party took a turn for the worst, as it had the last time she had been at one. Reaver's butler would probably end up taking the sword off her anyway, but it was better to be safe rather than sorry.

The walk to the manor was an uneventful one, allowing Stella to enjoy a spot of stargazing as she walked. As expected, her sword was taken off her upon her arrival, but thankfully the butler didn't bother asking to see inside her purse, and so she was allowed inside with her gauntlets, something that Stella was thrilled about. Even with just her gauntlets as protection, it was still better than nothing if things got rough. Entering the ballroom, the queen gave Reaver a polite smile as she murmured a greeting, though the smile was immediately replaced with a scow the moment his back turned. Even spending the evening fighting Sand Furies in Aurora was more pleasant than having to go a whole night of acting civil with Reaver. She was already mentally preparing herself to not punch Reaver or do any other such unladylike things if he said something irritating. She was the queen, after all, and she had to rise above such petty ways of taking out her annoyance.

A servant brought her a drink over and Stella fought the urge to sniff it, just in case it had been laced it with something. Her royal upbringing won out against such a blatantly uncouth act, however, and she took a sip of the wine that had been given to her. The wine was aromatic and sweet, but gave a bit of an aftertaste kick. It was pleasant, and though it wasn't something that she might have considered drinking, she kind of liked it. Drink in hand, she murmured hellos to various ladies and gentlemen as she sashayed through the crowd, hoping to find someone that she knew other than Reaver that she would be able to talk to throughout the night. She wondered for a moment whether Logan had been invited out to this party; if he had, at least she would be able to have some sort of company. She didn't particularly fancy the company of trophy wives and nobles, all keen to get into the queen's good books.

lyrics • If Today Was Your Last Day by Nickelback
notes • apologies for the lameish post but I had to get her in there somehow. She hasn't noticed Mac or Jack yet, obvs.
outfit • This
credit • Calypso

[Prince Logan Black]

 

tag: mac taylor, jack harkness, stella beck

words: 649

notes: <3

Logan couldn't hide a small frown that flickered across his face as his gaze glanced over the many masked patrons of Reaver's latest... Well, did he dare use the word party? Call him what you wish for what he did in the past, but he really didn't care for the festivals of the rich at Reaver's mansion. Rubbing elbows with men that were just dying to get their hands on the ladies and ladies that strutted about like they owned the kingdom wasn't a night he favored. He'd actually much prefer to be stuck in the castle reading something or maybe somewhere catching up with his sister. She probably was here, now that the thought occurred to him. There was no doubting that, even if she was, she wasn't caring for it. Hardly anyone cared for Reaver, and, as close to the industrious money-maker as he was, Logan could understand why. It took a certain kind of person to even be able to stand Reaver, much less be openly friendly to him no matter the occasion or circumstances.

Quietly, he slipped through the crowd, occasionally giving the polite nod of acknowledgement or greeting as he wove through the many guests. He wasn't looking for conversation, and, although he carried a drink with him, he had yet to touch it. Right now, the mood didn't strike him right to make him drink, although he imagined that that was surely to change, especially if his sister was around Reaver. Don't get him wrong, he loved and cared for her as his flesh and blood and younger sibling, but he knew as well as anyone else just how much she really was gritting her teeth whenever she had to deal with him.

To be fully realistic, his sister and Reaver weren't on the greatest of terms, although she had, in all reality, bit the bullet of dealing with him rather well. He had money, and money could get people places, as unfortunate as it might turn out to be.

She's definitely not going to like this, he thought with a frown, finally taking a small sip from the glass he'd been caring with him since he'd received it when he arrived. He'd seen Reaver when he came, and there was no doubting that the rich man had some ill plans in store for some unlucky lot that would have to battle against his strange little wheel. For his life, Logan still didn't understand what had driven the man to put such an elaborate thing in his house, but, then again, he knew Reaver well enough to understand that that kind of entertainment was something he wouldn't want to have to go looking for when he had the means to have it brought straight to him.

Logan could only imagine the unlucky people Reaver would use for his show tonight. More than likely some unlucky, unnoticed person or little group of people from one of the lower classes, but... it was debatable on if Reaver would go for the usual considering the surplus of new displaced people showing up across the kingdom. He'd heard from around the castle that they were showing up quite often now and whispers of if they were any threat at all. Take all of that into consideration, and you had the perfect formula for Reaver probably thinking that it was a grand idea to just use the newbies since hardly anyone knew them in these lands, so who would care? Oh, the theories of dark minds... I don't miss my days going there, he thought with another flicker of a slight frown. He really should find his sister... Knowing Jasper, she was more than likely here, and, for the sake of avoiding any more-than-necessary bloodshed, it'd probably be in his best interest to find her before things had a chance to get nasty over her relationship with Reaver.

♔ nickdiazfan

[Mac Taylor]

 

tag: jack harkness, stella beck, logan black

words: 686

notes: y'all know what i did by now; this isn't new news...

I better get an explanation for all of this nonsense by the time it's through. Mac frowned as he retrieved his gun off the floor, briefly checking to make sure it was still loaded. Having it was one thing. Having it loaded was a whole other. Thankfully, it was, and that was some assurance to him that maybe he had a chance at whatever this game was going to be, because it certainly felt like it was going to be one.

Glancing around the place again, he struggled to fight a scowl. The area screamed of a crowd Mac despised dealing with, if only for the simple fact that they were so caught up in themselves and their money that even the most logical person with all of the world's patience would want to strangle them after a conversation or so. "How bad could this really be?" he muttered under his breath, not daring to put his gun away. It was the atmosphere that made him uneasy of what was to come, he was certain, but for the life of him, he had no idea why it was happening or what the hell it even was.

To break it down, there was a large crowd of people he didn't know, he had no clue where he was, why he was there, and there was a strange wheel-looking thing displayed on the wall with various pictures of things - things that he could guess at what might be, but only guess and imagine, and nothing more. Some of them vaguely reminded him of various creatures he'd heard of, such as one seemed to depict the odd and annoying creatures called Hobbes that he had heard of from his first friend in the lands, Queen Stella, and another somewhat resembled the head of the skeletal creatures called Hollow Men that he had heard a lot about in his brief travels so far. There were many more things he couldn't name than there were things that he could, and that did nothing to help him feel any more secure about the situation.

He also managed to find his recently acquired sword, a simple, but useful weapon that reminded him well enough of service time in the southeastern region of Asia with their various weaponry that included a blade that he dared to classify in the same category as his, though he was still studying the Albionite weaponry to get a better feel for the land. After all his years spent in the service and law enforcement, it was practically second nature for him to want to understand the weaponry he was dealing with. Not knowing it at least lightly made him feel rather ill-prepared for any situation this strange new land could've thrown at him, and he was starting to be thoroughly glad that he'd taken the time to read and listen up on what he could about the enemies and weaponry Albion had to offer. It was then that he also took notice that he wasn't the only one here and that this other man was also studying the strange wheel high up on one of the walls around them. Mac frowned slightly, his gaze briefly returning up to the balcony on which he had previously noted a small crowd standing and the strange man that seemed to be the host of whatever this was before walking over to join the stranger as he studied over the wheel again, attempting to make sense of what its purpose was and what was going on. "Any ideas on what the hell's going on here?" Sure, there was the risk of startling him and potentially getting hit for it, since he had taken notice that the man was armed like he was himself, a potentially good thing should they get into some confrontation, but Mac hardly thought that the stranger had any more idea on what was going on than he himself did, but it couldn't hurt to at least ask. God only knew what would go down, after all, but whatever it was, he already knew he wouldn't like it.

♔ nickdiazfan

[Jack Harkness]

running to the railroad track, run along with captain jack
LEFT RIGHT, RIGHT LEFT  
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Looking up at the crowd, Jack frowned. The hungry looks on their aristocratic faces wasn't the most pleasant of things to look at and the man was sure that were they in a less upscale environment (though upscale was certainly a subjective term), they'd already be baying for blood. Bloody bigwigs, he thought, a look of disgust crossing his features. Nothing but a bunch of bloodthirsty animals, making play they're classy and elegant. Such a display disgusted him, and Jack fought the urge to do a few very crude gestures to the crowd, especially to the gent in the top hat that had spiked his drink in order to bring him here, whom Jack had just spotted.

He had figured out by now that he was going to have to fight. There was one other man in the pit, but Jack had not yet spoken to him, having wanted to gather his bearings first. He wondered whether it really would be like the gladiator pits of old where he would have to fight this stranger to the death merely to entertain them. Jack dearly hoped that the whole point of tonight wasn't that; his immortality gave him an unfair advantage and having the upper hand just because of Rose Tyler's little (alright, big, very big) mistake way back when would just be plain unfair.

But if they were to fight each other, what was the point of this elaborate set-up? Where did the strange wheel with its odd pictures come into play? Jack took a step closer to the blasted thing, peering at it. He recognized several of the creatures from his travels, though some where a mystery to him. Hobbes and Hollow Men he had met on his travels up to Bowerstone. Nasty creatures, but easy enough to dispatch with when you knew how. And there were Balverines. Of course, Jack thought wryly, wrinkling his nose sightly in distaste. Where would Albion be without the mangy Balverines? At least he still had his guns and sword. Prior to Albion, Jack had never bothered with such an archaic weapon. He'd learned how to wield it but up until his arrival in Albion, he'd had no need to use it. But since living in Silverpines, he'd become quite the expert with it thanks to the fact that silver bullets were expensive and he couldn't die, no matter how many times the Balverines tried to destroy him.

A voice made him turn, and warily Jack appraised the man that was speaking to him, his hand not moving from his gun. It was the same male that he had briefly seen as he woke up from his impromptu 'nap'. The same one that the immortal captain was hoping he wouldn't be forced to battle against during the course of the night. "As far as I can tell, we'll be battling. Whether against one another or against some of the beasts on that wheel," here Jack gave a nod towards the ominous wheel with its strange markings, "is beyond me. Maybe we have to fight each other while the beasts try to eat us?" He gave a grim shrug, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Best not to think of that, I find. Captain Jack Harkness," he greeted him, sticking out his hand and smiling slightly. "And who might you be?"

NOTES Rose Tyler was the one who accidentally turned Jack immortal for those that don't follow Doctor Who :3
OUTFIT Regular Jack outfit
CREDITS  Song "Captain Jack" ~ Template by Doe-Eyed Harlot of Caution.

[Queen Stella Beck]

••• If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late •••
••• Could you say goodbye to yesterday? •••

Trying to keep her scowl hidden from the present company, Stella downed the rest of her drink and picked up another off the silver tray of a passing waiter. If she was going to have to be in Reaver's company tonight, she sure as Avo wasn't going to do it sober. In foresight she realized it wasn't the wisest of plans, but it was the only plan she had in her mental 'how-to-deal-with-Reaver-and-not-punch-him' handbook. She pushed through the crowd, her polite smile turning more into a grimace with every passing second. She wondered how long she'd have to stay at this party at. She desperately hoped that she wasn't going to be expected to stay the whole night, because if she was there was no way she'd make it through the night in any semblance of sobriety and that really wasn't a good look for the queen of Albion. Besides which she had no desire to again be invited to a 'private party' in Reaver's bedroom as he'd proposed to her the last time she was here. He'd been lucky that she'd had enough self-control not to puke all over his beautiful parquet floors.

She felt a hand pat her rump and angrily she swatted away, turning to glare at whoever had the impertinence for such a deed but was faced with a group wearing the most innocent expressions like butter wouldn't melt in their mouths. Muttering a string of obscenities that definitely shouldn't be leaving a queen's mouth let alone in vaguely polite society, she continued in her endeavor of finding someone that she could spend the night with without wanting to use her blades spell on. Which was definitely going to be a quest and a half given the company.

With some relief she spotted a familiar figure up ahead, and mustering enough self-control not to run up to him and envelope him in a grateful hug, she sauntered up to Logan. "I swear to Avo, if one more person touches me who isn't Ben Finn or Page, I'm going to annihilate this entire party," she commented with a scowl, moving swiftly out the way as a group of gents in masks waltzed past her. Slipping her arm around Logan's, she gently tugged him in an effort to get them away from the main party. "If I ever find out who did it, they're getting a one-way-ticket to Ravenscar." She gulped down the rest of her drink then took a deep breath, in an effort to calm herself. Finally she gave her brother a smile, happy to see at least one friendly face in this wretched place. "You look nice tonight," she said simply. "How have you been? It feels like I haven't seen you in forever..."

lyrics • If Today Was Your Last Day by Nickelback
notes • yes, she has a crush on Page too. because why not? xD
outfit • This
credit • Calypso

[Prince Logan Black]

 

tag: mac taylor, jack harkness, stella beck

words: 304

notes: <3

Pulled from his thoughts as he heard his sister's voice, Logan smiled ever so slightly as he heard of her dilemma with the overly-eager guests. Allowing her to pull him with her after looping her arm with his, he frowned slightly, nodding in agreement when Ravenscar was mentioned. "I can only imagine how many people that are here tonight probably deserve that," he commented, allowing his gaze to scan over the crowd again as his frown grew slightly.

Shaking his head slightly to clear it of such thoughts, he welcomed her change in conversation. Hopefully it'd keep both of them from doing some less than polite things throughout the night. His taste for things like this were just... Let's be nice and just say that he'd rather avoid them. "You look very nice yourself," he told her, allowing himself a small smile. "And I've been decent, I guess. As well as any of us can be, all things considered," he said with a shrug. "I do hope Jasper knew what he was asking of you when he told you that you had to come out tonight," he continued after a brief pause, his attentive gaze watching the crowd again. "I heard rumors about what Reaver had planned for tonight. Apparently working with him in past lives had more benefits than I thought it did," he told her, lowering his voice so only she could hear him. "Now, I know the rumor mill isn't the greatest place to pick up information, but considering it's Reaver..." Logan broke off the sentence with a sigh, his frown from earlier returning, although it was much more noticeable this time. "You better see this for yourself," he finished finally, motioning for her to follow him through the crowd, "although I doubt you'll like it any more than I do."

♔ nickdiazfan

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