Abel was a simple banker at the Bank of England. Hard working, punctual, uncomplicated. He kept his head down and stayed out of trouble with little difficulty. He longed for adventure, though he would never admit it. His life was boring, but it was safe, and he liked it that way. The books he has at home, and the heroics of the men in the papers were enough to fuel his sense of adventure. Or so he told himself. He wasn't one to go looking for danger, and it didn't seek him out, not usually. He was too small, too skinny, too skittish. Most people made fun of him for his size, his long black hair
Working at the bank seemed like a safe enough job, he could play with numbers, which he was good at, and he could see the faces of London's people every day. The bank being a literal fortress and being impenetrable helped to fuel his need for safe in every sense of the word. No one, in their right mind, would break into the Bank of England. Maybe that is why he was so drawn to the stranger currently lurking around the bank, the one who, unbeknownst to him at the time, would easily penetrate the bank's defenses without even raising any eyebrows. It wasn't until after the man left with Mr. Osborne and then disappeared completely did the reality of the situation hit everyone. Mr. Twopenny had been murdered, and half of the bankers were arrested for attempting to steal from the bank vault.
Abel really couldn't make heads or tails of it all, he was just relieved they didn't arrest him, they had no reason to, he was innocent. Though, the man in the big leather coat and black top hat with a red band on it that had been lurking around the bank lobby and was escorted by Mr. Osborne would not leave Abel's thoughts alone. He constantly invaded them, and it made him a little more than frustrated at the fact that the man was nowhere to be seen after entering the vault. He never left it, that anyone could see, and the next time someone entered the vault Twopenny's body had been found along with a multitude of dead Templars.
The Templars were no secret to London and her people. Abel knew who they were, knew they were dangerous, and knew they owned the city. Crawford Starrick was a man to fear, and in Abel's eyes he didn't think anything could be done about him. He rose to his position through hard work, and when one of his competitors mysteriously disappeared there was never enough evidence to arrest the man. So, Abel didn't see a reason to fight back, or even how one could fight back against him. Though, Twopenny's murder may have sparked an interest in Abel's mind, who was that stranger, and why Twopenny?
The next couple of days were hell for the bank and its workers, the financial system was close to collapsing thanks to the disappearance of the printing plates alongside the murder of the governor of the bank, and people were starting to get very upset. Though, the plates' mysterious return was even more vexing a few days later and it was all chalked up to a misplacement in the aftermath of the Twopenny situation. Within a week, things were pretty much back to normal and Abel was again sitting at his desk, crunching numbers like any other day. The only difference was the man with the top hat was still flighting into Abel's thoughts, so much so, that on his way home he wasn't paying attention to where he was walking and almost got ran over by a speeding carriage.
"Oi, get out of the way, ya' git!" The first carriage driver, a brute Blighter, was rather rude, and Abel glared at him as he sped down the road.
"Stupid Blighters." Abel muttered under his breath, but when he turned around that breath was yanked out of his lungs as he was lifted from the road at high speed and thrown into someone's lap. A warm lap. A large lap. Abel looked up at whoever the person was that dared to kidnap him from his safe walk home, but the glare was slapped from his face when he saw the black top hat with a red band around it.
"You!" The man grinned down at Abel.
"Sorry about the pick-up, mate! You were kind of in our way and I didn't want to run you over like our red clad friend up there." Abel looked ahead of them and saw they were chasing the Blighter that had almost run him over in the street. The Blighter that was now twisting around to fire his revolver at them.
"Friend my ass!" Abel jumped at the new voice and realized there was someone in the seat next to the man with the top hat, which was at Abel's back. He had to crane his neck to see another man in a green tweed jacket, a revolver in his hand and a grin on his face. Judging by the colors, this man must have been a Rook, and judging by the revolver, the chase, the Blighter, and the blood running down the side of the Rook's face, oh no… Abel was just pulled into what he has been trying to stay away from his entire life, something that was the opposite of safe. He was in the middle of a gang chase.
"What's your name, mate?" Abel jumped again and looked up at the man with the top hat. He was watching the road, one arm around Abel's back holding the left reins, and the other laid over Abel's thighs holding him in place and gripping the right reins.
"A-Abel… Abel Marder." The man grinned as he swiftly ducked another shot from the Blighter's gun, Abel sinking more into his lap at how close that one had come while trying to suppress a whimper.
"Nice to meet you, Abel. The names Jacob! Jacob Frye!" Frye? As in the leader of the Rooks? That was the last person Abel wanted to get involved with… that man was the epitome of danger, not safety. Nothing about this situation was safe!
"Hold on, tight!" Abel barely had a second to react when the carriage started veering to the left and up onto its right wheels as if it would topple to the side from the speed they took that turn. Abel's hand fisted in Jacob's leather jacket, and his head ended up in the crook of Jacob's neck from gravity trying to wrench them from the carriage seat. When the carriage righted itself, Abel heard and felt a chuckle rumble through the chest below him and opened his eyes he didn't realize he had screwed shut. He was still curled into Jacob's neck, hand holding onto his jacket for dear life, and he felt his cheeks heat up as he released the man and leaned back against his arm. Abel looked up at him and saw that he was grinning, his eyes sparkling and turning in his direction every now and then. The blush on his cheeks flared hotter and Abel looked down into his lap, clutching his cane for dear life, ignoring the tingle in his fingers from when he had that thick leather jacket clutched in his fist. Jacob whipped the reins the best he could with Abel in his lap and urged the horse faster until they were right next to the Blighter's carriage.
"Hello, mate!" Jacob called over to the Blighter who growled at the Rook leader before the Rook in the passenger seat aimed and shot the Blighter in the head, Abel flinching at the sound.
"Good bye, mate!" Jacob and the Rook laughed as they continued down the road at a faster pace than necessary for no longer being in a gang chase, the driverless carriage disappearing a few streets back.
"So, Abel, where to?" Abel looked up at Jacob, a slight pink still on his cheeks.
"I'm sorry?" Jacob grinned again and looked down at him.
"Well, I figured I plucked you off the street, I might as well give you a lift home. So, where to?" Abel blinked a few times before he remembered that he needed to answer the question.
"I live in Southwark, by Waterloo Station." Jacob raised his eyebrows a little, the two bushes almost disappearing under the top hat. How did that thing stay on his head during the chase?
"Really? That far away? What were you doing up here in Central London?" Abel wasn't sure he should answer, but found his mouth reacting anyway.
"I work at the Bank of England." Jacob gave Abel a side look and slowed the horse into a trot, pulling off to the side of the road to kick the Rook off the carriage. Abel gave a squeak when Jacob picked him up and set him in the seat next to him before looking down at the Rook.
"Get back to the nest and have that head looked at, mate, thanks for your help." The Rook gave a sloppy salute and a grin to his leader before sauntering off and Jacob took the reins up again to urge the horse forward with a whistle.
"Come on girl, let's get a move on." They pulled out on to the road and started riding through the city at a slow pace, much slower than before, which Abel was grateful for. Though they didn't talk, save for Abel giving directions whenever needed, he could feel Jacob watching him. When they came to a stop in front of his apartment building, Abel was surprised when Jacob followed him from the carriage and onto the sidewalk. The look on his face must have said as much because Jacob grinned.
"A gentleman must see his date safely to their door." The grin on Jacob's face widened when Abel's cheeks heated up again.
"D-date? You… I…" Abel tripped over his words a few times, his face red, whether from embarrassment or anger he couldn't tell.
"I am a straight, heterosexual man! That was no date, sir, by any account of the word!" The grin on Jacob's face never faltered and the glow in his eyes seemed to intensify. He took a step towards Abel and put his left hand on the concrete pillar next to his head, and with the iron fence to his right, the banker was trapped in a corner.
"Mr. Marder, girls would kill to be swept off their feet the way I swept you off yours. Are you sure you're hetero-whatever, what with how tightly you were clinging to me earlier?" Just as Jacob said the word tightly, he ran his right hand over Abel's chest and fisted the front of his suit, just as Abel had done with Jacob's leather coat during the chase. With their proximity, Abel could now see how much taller Jacob was. Being 5' 3", Abel was very short for being a 26-year-old male and he knew it. Because of his height, with Jacob being somewhere between 5' 7" and 5' 9", it made him seem much taller, so he practically towered over the banker, the grin still in place on his lips.
"I… that was a reflex… nothing more." Jacob hummed and got his face in Abel's personal space, gripping his suit a little harder when Abel tried to move away. He tried to protest, but the serious look that suddenly came over Jacob's features had Abel shutting his mouth right quick.
"You know about the incident at the bank, don't you?" Abel felt a shiver go down his spine caused by Jacob's voice dipping dangerously low. So, he had ulterior motives, huh? Figures.
"I… I know you had something to do with it… but I have no way of p-proving it." Jacob's close proximity, his hand gripping the front of Abel's suit, the smell of gunpowder, smoke, and something else he couldn't describe invading his nostrils, Abel wasn't sure his heart could take anymore. The poor organ was already beating unusually fast, and now Jacob was pulling him closer by his abused clothing.
"No, you don't. What happened in the vault, needed to be done." Abel didn't want to say Jacob's tone of voice was threatening, no, there was no threat there, not in his voice, his words, or his posture. Even the fist in his jacket didn't seem like a threat, but Abel couldn't put words to what it might be otherwise.
"Twopenny was a Templar…" That seemed to catch Jacob off guard because he retracted a little, his hand loosening around Abel's clothing, but he quickly regained himself.
"Yes, and they need to be taken care of. London will be free again." Abel didn't know what came over him, but he laughed at that.
"And you think you can do that?" The grin reappeared on Jacob's face as he released Abel's jacket fully, smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric, his fingers lingering half a second too long.
"Oh, I know I can. With the help of my Rooks, we are so close to taking Starrick down!" To be honest, Abel had noticed a downfall in Blighter activity and he hasn't seen as many people dressed in black leather with the Templar Cross on their arm roaming the city. Maybe he could do it… maybe London can be free of Starrick's rein…?
"You really think you can do it." Jacob looked at Abel now with his grin softening into a smile.
"Someone has to." Abel shook his head and looked down to the ground. All this time, he thought it was impossible, he thought Starrick and his Templars were invincible. But this man, who was no doubt younger than Abel, was poking at the Gods and making them bleed, showing the world that they were not Gods, because Gods do not bleed. Abel doesn't know what compelled him to speak his next words, and he would spend probably the rest of his life calling himself a moron, but…
"I would like to help… if I can…" Jacob was not expecting that, and he stood up straight so quickly Abel could have sworn he heard his back pop, his hand falling from the concrete next to Abel's head.
"Really?" Abel looked up into Jacob's eyes to find curiosity, excitement, wonder, and even confusion there, but his mind was made up, and if there was a way to free this city, he wanted to be a part of it.
"Yes, really." The grin that came over Jacob's face at that made Abel's heart flutter in ways he didn't understand, and the taller man held out his arm towards the front of the apartment building. Abel sidestepped from the corner he was trapped in and headed for the entrance to his home, stopping at the locked door and turning to see Jacob was a respectful distance away.
"We will see if you are serious, Mr. Marder. I may call on your services in the future." Confused now, and a little clearer headed with the dangerous man not so close anymore, Abel didn't even know what he could possibly do for the Rooks. He probably should have thought this through because now he wasn't so sure…
"What services will you have me provide, Mr. Frye?" Abel had to refrain from smacking himself in the back of the head for sounding like a girl in a whore house, and almost slapped Jacob for the grin that came over his face at Abel's use of words. Instead he gave him a pointed look that said, 'you know what I mean you pervert', and Jacob shrugged.
"Information. Gossip, mainly. You work at the Bank of England, where all the rich people go to store and collect their money, rich people that could possibly know Starrick and his associates. So, strike up conversations, see what people are talking about. I want juicy, meaty details I can really sink my teeth into." For emphasis, Jacob barred his teeth and snapped them together as if he was an animal biting into a carcass, and for some reason, it made a shiver go down Abel's spine. Damn him and his unusual behavior that made no sense to the poor banker which caused reactions from said banker that were equally confusing…
"Good day, Mr. Marder." Jacob tipped his hat, turned on his heel, and headed back to the carriage.
"Good day, Mr. Frye." As Jacob climbed up into the carriage and settled down, he gave a wave to Abel and started on his way down the road to find somewhere to ditch the busted carriage, so he could board their train. He needed a cold bath, and his couch for some much-needed sleep…