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Alias: Corinne
Age: 27
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Cole Bennett

Criminal

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Apr 3 2018, 03:05 AM
day 1 - no
Nov 5 2017, 06:28 PM
May 9, 21xx | London, England

Cole's knees hit the ground…hard. They skid across the pavement; he felt the flesh on them rip even through his heavy denim jeans, and it hurt, but nothing was going to break his grip at this point. His upper body felt the shock, as well - but there was no way that it was anything like the perp currently being held beneath his strong hold must've felt when Cole man-handled his back into the cement. This hot pursuit chase - which occurred mostly on foot - had ended in a victory. Aurors: 1, Criminals: 0. Cole's broad chest heaved as he caught his breath and attempted to regain composure. It was difficult; adrenaline coursed through his veins, the thrill of the chase still alive and well in his body, despite it being over. This time, anyway - there were plenty more bad guys out there that had no idea what…or who was coming for them.

Once the perp that Cole had apprehended moments before was sufficiently disarmed and manacled, he roughly grabbed him up by the collar of his shirt. Cole's professionalism left a little to be desired, but he knew the department could hardly argue with him when he'd single-handedly just taken down one of their more notorious most wanteds. Kicking the back of the greasy man's heels, Cole grunted an order at him. [font color="#649DB9"]"Get-ta' steppin'! Your new cellie is anxiously awaiting your arrival to Azkaban."[/font] Despite his tightly furrowed eyebrows and general dark expression, a smirk crept up on the constable's lips. Pushing him through the alley back the way they came, Cole - fronted by a now very restrained, "alleged" illegal potions dealer - rounded the corner back out onto the street where two members of his squad boredly sat around.

Upon Cole's arrival back out of the alleyway, the female Auror trainee shot up, pretending as though she hadn't just been taking a rest on some strangers' stoop. [font color="#D25E87"]"Hey! Wow...um...need help?"[/font] she lazily offered. The male trainee near here was a little more slow to react, but he didn't even bother to try and make it look like he had been productive in Coles' absence. Cole rolled his eyes at these kids - ignoring the fact that he wasn't too much older than them at merely 24 years old. [font color="#649DB9"]"No. Don't worry, I've got it all under control,"[/font] he replied first to the girl, and then announced to both of them rather sarcastically before directing them to prepare for apparation back to headquarters. [font color="#649DB9"]"Pickins, when we get back, you'll handle the intake paperwork. Edwards…you…um…"[/font] Cole paused, making a confused expression before blurting out, [font color="#649DB9"]"Dude, do you even have a talent? At least act like you're busy so that Sarge doesn't bust my ass about you flaking off."[/font] They all shared a laugh - mostly a nervous one on the Trainees' part - before linking up. A loud pop rang out, echoing for a few blocks, and the little group was instantly transported to the Ministry of Magic, perp in tow.

[font color="#6AAD24"]"Impressive,"[/font] Cole's sergeant complimented him privately as they stared at Cole's latest takedown from the non-interrogation side of the one-way window. The young man beamed, proud; and yet still couldn't help but run his fingers through the curly, dirty blonde hair at the base of his skull out of nervous habit. Lila was hardly ever amused with Cole when he came home with a story that involved him being in any sort of potential danger, but he still couldn't wait to tell her all about it when he got home. He figured she'd say something to him along the lines of wanting him to leave the department…but of course, she realized that he couldn't, right? He was sure of it that she only ever said it out of concern. That was one of her ways of showing him that she loved him. Cole's reaction was usually the same - some sort of dismissive variation of "I know you're worried, baby, but that's just the name of the game. It's part of the job." It wasn't anything that some cuddling up on the couch and popping in her favorite movie or TV show couldn't fix.

As much as he'd have liked to do it, Cole wasn't quite entrusted with the interrogation process as of yet. That was left to his higher ups - not only that, but the structure of the organization seemed to tell Cole that they preferred it when the guy responsible for dragging the perps in wasn't involved in the line of questioning, too. That was fine; he figured they had their reasoning for it…maybe a previous setup or inside job of some sort had ruined it. Whatever - it gave him a moment to catch up with the two trainees currently working under him, assisting on the case. [font color="#649DB9"]"Pickins,"[/font] he called out, crossing the office towards her cubicle. [font color="#649DB9"]"How's that intake report coming? Boss man is gonna want to get this guy to Azkaban by the end of the night, so we need to get the ball rolling on it."[/font] She nodded, affirming that she understood the urgency of it. Glancing around the office, Cole raised an eyebrow before muttering "shit" under his breath.

He leaned in closer to the young woman's' desk, speaking a bit more lowly this time. [font color="#649DB9"]"Where…in…the…fuck…is Edwards? That idiot is going to get me demoted,"[/font] he growled. The girl rolled her eyes at Cole, shrugging. [font color="#D25E87"]"I don't know. I wasn't aware that I was his keeper,"[/font] she said sarcastically. Cole snapped back at her. [font color="#649DB9"]"You two are partners, at least for the immediate future. And I am your acting superior. So yeah, actually, you are. Keep tabs on him, put him on a leash, holy fuck, chain yourself to him if you have to for all I care."[/font] Cole didn't notice, mostly because he wasn't interested in looking at this girl - or any girl besides his own, for that matter - but her eyes widened as she decided to take this as an opportunity to flirt with her trainer. [font color="#D25E87"]"Yeah? If that's the case, I wish you were my partner. I'd never lose track of you,"[/font] she giggled, though it was less of a nervous, girly titter, and more of a confident one. For added show, she flipped her hair over her shoulder in an exaggerated motion, one that Cole rolled his eyes so hard to that he thought they might get stuck up in his head.

Cole's glare could've burned holes through the girls' skin; he stared long and hard at her for a few minutes before making sense of what she said. He only narrowly avoided laughing himself half to death before managing to question her intentions, as well as preemptively shoot her down for good measure, all in one sentence. [font color="#649DB9"]"Please tell me that I'm delusional, and that wasn't you just making a pass at me…because it ain't happening."[/font] She grinned, which caused him to pinch either side of his head at the temples in an exacerbated reaction. Fantastic. She wasn't denying it. He inhaled deeply, talking slowly to her as if she were a child. Oh, wait. She basically was. [font color="#649DB9"]"For the love of God…finish the fucking report and find Edwards so that we can wrap this up. I'd like to make it home at a reasonable time so that I can have dinner with my fiancé."[/font] He made sure to enunciate Lila's title, implying the importance of it to this…girl. Shaking his head in disbelief, he walked away, resigning to his desk to handle some of his own paperwork while he waited for everything else to come together.

Another hour and a half later, and everything was ready. Things worked so differently in the wizarding world than what it did in the Muggle world. Though there were some incidents and cases that required the use of the Wizengamot, evidence was a lot more easily procured and confessions easier obtained in the wizarding world, which made prosecution a relatively quick occurrence. Cole's sergeant turned this criminal in question - Wesley L. Greeley - back into Cole's possession, this time for supervising the transport to Azkaban. During the interrogation, it had come out that Greeley was not only guilty of trafficking illegal potions, but he had also dabbled in the ancient artifact trade - one of which had most tragically hexed and killed a witch. He wasn't just going away for black market potioneering, but for murder now, as well. This recent development made Cole stand all that more prouder, knowing he took this low-life off of the streets.

Somewhere between Cole's orders to Pickins and now, she had finished the necessary paperwork and found Edwards. As such, they were finally able to get along on their way, finalizing the days' work by wrapping up with a good ol' incarceration of the perp caught during their mission. For sanity's sake, Cole kept his distance from Pickins and advised both she and Edwards to not talk, but rather, to just observe. They apparated once more as a group, this time to Azkaban, where Cole turned Greeley over to the Azkaban Guards. [font color="#649DB9"]"Don't drop the soap,"[/font] Cole suggested with a grin and a chuckle before allowing the guards to their business. The man looked slightly confused; Cole briefly wondered if that was just a Muggle thing. No matter - he found amusement in it and in the fact that another bad guy was getting put away. Greeley shivered as he awkwardly shuffled his chained legs down the hall and out of sight. Cole wanted to go straight home, but had to take these nuisances of kids back to the Ministry before he could clock out for the end of the day. Thankfully, with the use of magic, it went rather quickly.

After escorting the trainees back to the Ministry of Magic, Cole moved rapidly through his end-of-shift checklist, hoping to get home sometime before dark. By the time he left the Ministry, however, the sun was already down, and it was already long past supper time. All in all, he'd had a good day - great, even, considering the amount of success that he'd encountered - but it was hard to continue riding on that euphoria when he reached his and Lila's shared flat and he found her already asleep on the couch. Cole sighed in defeat; carefully, he lifted Lila up into his arms and carried her upstairs to their bed. He tucked her in for the night, softly kissing her forehead before heading back downstairs to begin his own unwind process - the same process that she had probably gone through, only hours earlier.

This was hardly the first time that his day had come to a similar end. Predictably, as he did on the other nights that concluded such as this one, he heated up leftovers, ate alone in front of the television, and watched some bad British Muggle sitcom for a few hours before he felt tired enough to join Lila in bed. He loved his job so much, and yet, nights like these when he felt so lonely - eating dinner alone, watching television alone, falling asleep alone…it was suddenly not fun anymore. He felt like he hadn't seen the beautiful woman fast asleep next to him in days…what hurt worse was that he wasn't even sure when the last time he saw her long enough to tell her that he loved her was. He loved her so much…she knew that, right? She had to of…they had a future planned together, a home together, and while it didn't seem perfect right now…it would be, someday…right? This snowball of thoughts, this doubt that he felt as he closed his eyes, preparing to slip into sleep…it made him resent the job.

Until the next exciting, eventful, action-packed, dangerous, chase-filled day, anyway…and then it would come rushing back again - the thrill, the excitement, the adrenaline. The feeling that he mattered and was making a difference in this world. The idea - or wishful hope - that the work he did today would make the world a better, safer place for his children, for their children - his and Lila's. Cole so often thought of her when he was on the job. He wasn't just doing this for him…it was for them. Perhaps it didn't feel like it now, but it would all come together and make sense someday. Whenever he'd get another great success like he had done today, that fleeting feeling would overwhelm him once more, and he'd be hooked all over again. He would work another long day, processing paperwork and wrapping up all of the loose ends that went with ridding this crazy world of the scum that walked it and made it filthy…and then he would hate it all over again by the time his head hit the pillow for the night.

It was a vicious cycle.
Nov 5 2017, 06:08 PM
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Lila James<br>
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Since fate had decided to play a cruel, sick joke on Cole several weeks ago by having him run into his ex-fiancé in perhaps one of the most unlikely places, he had found himself in a worse mood than ever before. It was the lowest he'd ever felt in 29 years, but also the angriest. Every day following their run-in, he found himself not being able to shake him from her mind, no matter how much he tried. He wanted to forget her, but he couldn't. The memories of what they used to have were coming back, and it made him just so God damn angry. Knowing that she was still very much around - and now in such close proximity, in cahoots with the owners of the club that he fought at - made him incredibly uneasy. He had considered going home that night, packing up his belongings, and leaving England; honestly, the thought was still on his mind.<p>

He had even gone as far as chatting with one of his, er, "business partners" about considering leaving, wondering if he had any contacts in any other cities that he could approach about "work"; this did not sit well with the man. He had a good bit invested in Cole in the way of contract killings, and did not want to lose his best guy. He promised Cole that if he decided to skip town, that he would not make the transition easy for him. Accordingly, Cole stayed, though he wasn't finished looking at his options to get out of England. He had nothing left here for him…he had every reason to go, aside from trying to do the responsible thing by lining up work before he left. There had to be something ironic about him trying to 'go through the proper channels' as a hitman.<p>

In the meantime, while he worked on an exit strategy, Cole found himself at the club more frequently, fighting longer and harder. He wasn't even sure that it was helping anymore; the one thing that he clung to was the physical pain to numb that of the emotional pain, and because of Lila, he didn't even have that anymore. He loathed her. How could one woman have the ability to destroy him the way that she did? Why did she do it? He never understood that - he thought he had done everything by the book, given her everything that she wanted and needed. Somewhere, though, he had come up short, and five years later, she was still taking everything from him. His heart, his trust, his happiness, and now, his pain, the only way that he coped.<p>

Growing up, Cole had never really been that bad of a kid. He sometimes got into arguments or scuffles in school due to his hotheaded nature, but everyone knew that deep down, he had a heart of gold and good intentions. Most of his acting out was when his parents were going through a rough patch; it hurt and scared him, and he reacted poorly as a result. Drugs were never really something that he had any interest in; he tried smoking marijuana before, but that was it. Even as an adult, drugs weren't something that he had turned to…until recently. His mother, right near the end of her life, had used his father's old opiates to self-medicate, to relax her, to make her forget and to numb the pain. To be honest, Cole probably would have never even thought to do it if it weren't for seeing her turn to the pills. But, he did, and despite the rational side of his brain telling him that this wasn't a fix to his problems, irrationality and a desire to cover up all of the terrible feelings he was experiencing won over, and he began using them.<p>

First, it was one. One became two, and two became three. On this particular night, he had popped four opiates against his better judgment before a fight; he knew several of the guys fought under the influence; some were on crack, others shooting up heroin, others just juiced up on steroids. Morally, he saw nothing wrong with what he was doing - it was his attempt at avoiding his emotions, if even for just a little while longer than what he would have to without them. He was layering at this point - the pills to go numb, initially, and then the fighting, to go even number. As per usual for anything that went wrong in his life, he blamed Lila. He would've been fine if she hadn't shown her face at the club. He didn't care where she was for all those years, who she was with, what she was doing. Cole liked it that way.<p>

When he went into the ring, he was already slightly delirious. The room spun, and though his objective was clear, his mind was fuzzy. His reactions were slow, but his thoughts were slower. This was what he needed. He loved it. He felt so detached from everyone and everything else, resigning to his own little world. As he was coming to find, taking the pills helped block Lila out. He didn't have enough of an attention span or space in there to even consider her - it only allowed for the here and now, what was happening right in front of him. Which, at the present time, was him being wailed on. He smiled nearly the entire duration of the fight, occasionally laughing, egging his opponent on more. While he was aware of being beaten, something in him felt invincible. If nothing else was clear, it was at least why his mother had taken those pills when his dad died. He understood it now, and he didn't for a second blame her.<p>

Cole's form was slouchier than usual under the influence of the pills, but he still made a valiant effort to fight. He was punching hard, and when he hit, striking hard - but his reaction time was delayed, and a lot of his throws were hitting nothing but thin air. His opponent, on the other hand, was absolutely tearing into him. Cole had lost before…after all, you can't win them all. He was honestly one of the better fighters in the club, though, and was frequently a fan favorite. He had been slated to win this match up, but the bettors hadn't anticipated, obviously, that he would be fucked up. As his body became swollen, bruised, and bloodied, the crowd began to jeer and cry out obscenities. Some just stared in disbelief as he continued to stand there, taking on a full blown assault without falling over. Cole had always been a stamina fighter; it took a lot to get him down, and taking him down - like out cold - was the only way to take him out of a fight.<p>

After almost ten minutes of him turning into a punching bag for his overly aggressive opponent, Cole finally fell. It was the first in a long time that he had done so; the crowd got quiet, some gasped, others quickly turned to leave in despair of their lost winnings. A frequent fixer of the betting who had an invested interest in Cole jumped to his feet, quickly ushering for a nearby bouncer to help drag his limp, bloody body out of the ring. He was breathing, but weakly. In Cole's mind, he heard voices around him, but he couldn't decipher what was going on. He felt so peaceful, so at rest behind his closed eyes and numb body.<p>

Eventually, Cole was wrapped in a sheet and tossed into the back seat of a car. He vaguely could make out the occasional glowing shadow of a street lamp through his eyelids, but couldn't will his eyes open. Everything swayed, even when the car was stopped and still, presumably at a stop light or stop sign. Again, he heard voices, but couldn't determine their sources or what was being said. "Turn right up here, and then take your first right. Her place is the third one on the left," one said. The second one asked, "And she ain't gonna snitch on us? We don't need any bad publicity for the club. I'd have just dumped him in the Thames if I didn't have a lot of fucking money tied up into him." The first one spoke again, laughing a little darkly. "Naw, and besides, if she tried, we've got ways to keep her quiet." <p>

The car stopped, and Cole felt his body moving - floating, almost, like he was being lifted and carried in the sheet - and then he felt himself being placed down on what felt like concrete. He heard what sounded like a hard pounding on the door, and then the voices again. Once more, though he couldn't tell what they said. "We just leave 'em here?" the second one had asked. He sure had a lot of questions. "Yeah, she'll know what to do. Or, she'd better. I'd hate to see this one go." There were footsteps; he noticed the car doors slammed and the two mystery men took off before the door had even opened. Well, if they were looking to get him fixed, he sure hoped that whoever's door they'd left him at was home. His breathing began to slow even more, and he felt himself growing cold. He sure wished he had more than a measly sheet.
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