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Regina Smith

Quid Pro Quo - What is it you need?

0 · 432 views · located in The Black

a character in “Blood on the Thames”, as played by Trickster

Description

Often describes as an Ice Queen, Regina rules C Block with the proverbial iron fist in a velvet glove. Just seeing her on the street, you’d think her a plain, average person; if you didn’t notice the body guards and the aura of power she wears like a cloak. Regina strongly believes in understated comfort. All her cloths are the best, as is everything else she owns.

She’s about 5’9” and well built, curves in all the right places while still staying strong. She has long chestnut red hair that she usually wears in a French braid that often ends up slung over one shoulder. If one were to look into her eyes, they would find them to be a warm hazel.

Regina tends to smoke hand rolled cigarets, filled with a cherry tobacco. She doesn't do if often, but it's the one vice she can't seem to drop.

Personality

Regina came to power by knowing who needed what and being able to provide it to them. She knows what people like, she knows what they need, and she knows what they want; and she can provide it all, for a price. Of course she uses the Thames for smuggling, most of the boats going up and down have at least one of her shipments on them. The captains look the other way and in return, she makes sure that they are taken care of.

She for the most part is a very pleasant personality, because people are more likely to let things slip when they underestimate her. It’s only when she needs to that she reveals the drive and the fire that got her to the top in the first place.

Equipment

Regina carries a gun (type to be determined) at the small of her back and a couple of knives in her boots. She has a photographic memory, so she always knows the details of who she’s talking to. She also has a smart phone that she uses to keep in touch with various parts of her organization. When she has to go out and about she tends to wear a 'lined' trench coat, not bullet proof but definitely bullet resistant.

Her bodyguards are the ones that are heavily armed, between them they carry enough weaponry to take on a small army and travel in a heavily modified car that can go over any terrain and keep going.

History

Regina grew up poor and learned early on the value of trading favors. Growing up, she made friends with everybody; pimps, whores, secretaries, housewives, delivery men, ect. She’s always been a fighter of one kind or another, just she prefers a bloodless win over a bloodbath.

She’s street smart over formal education; she got a high school education then was on her own. Not that she doesn’t know things, she just had to learn them on her own, so it’s a bit eclectic.

Regina actually came to power about 5 years ago, when she took the gang over from the previous boss and totally revamped it. Within less than six months it was completely unrecognizable from what it had been. She had been the second in command, a rising star that came to power suddenly and quietly by being in the right place at the right time. She always knew who to talk to in order to find something and was able to get things done quietly. But no one ever really took her seriously, believing her position was just an indulgence granted by the old Boss, who was an older man who was rather fond of younger women. But then, about 5 years ago, the old guy “just happened” to die in a freak car accident. Nothing could be proven, of course. But by the time the gang members realized that there was a power vacuum, Regina was already consolidating her position, ruthlessly putting down anybody who opposed her. There were problems of course, but with a group of people that were willing to support her, she now controls all of C Block.

Regina and Gabriel have something of an understanding, given that he frequently ships things along the river that she controls. She doesn’t touch his stuff, he doesn’t bother with what she ships in.

So begins...

Regina Smith's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Regina Smith Character Portrait: Shamus Oliver O'Sullivan
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The Prospect of Whitby was a small almost hole in the wall tavern that claimed to be the oldest riverside pub in London. Given that there were several other ‘oldest’ pubs within walking distance, Regina wasn’t inclined to believe that claim. However, that wasn’t the reason she was currently seated in one of the back booths, with a double whiskey in front of her, a crackling fire to the side; and a heavily armed bodyguard at a nearby table. Although the whiskey was excellent, Jameson, aged about 18 years, smooth but it still carried the proper burn.

Regina pulled a hand rolled cigaret from a monogramed case out of a jacket pocket. It was expensive, engraved with her initials. A gift from an old friend, one who had helped her get to where she was today. Such people should be remembered. Lighting the cigaret with a brief hiss of a match, taking a deep drag and holding it before blowing out a cloud of fragrant smoke. Flicking the ash off the end, she returned her attention to the woman sitting across from her in the booth, one Sonya Michell.
“So, the latest shipments have been distributed?”
Sonya inclined her head. “Yes. Mr. Hardin has made sure the armaments have been distributed, supplies are stockpiled and distribution of the usual items is on schedule.”
Regina nodded. “Good. We want to keep the confidence of our network, make sure that we keep any deals that we’ve made.” She took another drag, looking over a series of reports that Sonya called up on her tablet. Their voices were nearly drowned out by the music coming from the main bar, Flogging Molly if she wasn’t mistaken, along with the loud laughter of the people keeping the people behind the bar hopping. And from the window behind her and to the side she could hear the sound of the river Thames and the boats working their way up and down. As earlier mentioned, The Prospect had an appeal that had nothing to do with it’s tourist attraction and everything to do with it’s location.

There were of course other reasons she frequented the pub. In years past, it was a haven for smugglers and various other villains, which meant it had a number of . . . secrets. And she was quite good friends with the owner. What more did one need to consider when choosing a place to get ready for a meeting of her most powerful rivals?

There was a brisk step coming toward her booth, the lack of response from Lance meant that it was Shamus. He was on the short list of trusted people; The Prospect was one of her safe houses. There was a thunk as he slid a basket of pub fries and another drink towards her.
“Double, shaken with two ice cubes and a splash of water to get things started.”
Regina smiled up at her friend. “Aye Shamus, you always know what I need.”
Shamus cocked a hip and leaned against the side of the booth.
“You look like your planning something, Reggie. What’s going on?”
Regina sighed and leaned back. “You know that peace that the Lockwood guy has been enforcing for the past decade or so? The time of the original truce is up soon. So he’s calling a summit to try and lay down the law as to what’s going to happen next. So we need to figure out what we’re going to be doing next.”
“I say that we take special precautions to make sure that no one takes the river from you.” Shamus’s soft brogue carried a note of threat.
Regina grinned. “That’s why I like you, you always know where to focus your attention and what’s really important. But I’ve been reenforcing everything that’s truly important to me for a while now.”
Shamus nodded. “You want me to be following you to the meeting then?”
Regina thought for a moment and shrugged. “It’s not going to be much more than a cock waving fest, but you can. Nothing’s going to happen there, not with Lockwood’s goons out in full force. But it might be good to know what’s happening outside. Up to you really.”
“Aye, I think I can get a few of the boys along then. They’ve been itching to be out and about for a while now.”
Regina snorted as she took one last drag and stubbed the cigaret out. “Just don’t be the first to start something. Lockwood’s got to look strong, so he’s going to come down on the first troublemaker like the wrath of God itself. And I’d hate for that to be you, old friend.”
“Reggie, you seem to forget who my boys are.” Shamus looked wounded. “I’ll be sure to ask for forgiveness from the Father at the end of the night.”
“If you make it that far,” Regina wasn’t buying it. “God’s pardon does nothing for a bullet hole, remember that. Except to make it a bit easier to get through the pearly gates.”
At that Shamus nodded and returned to the bar, leaning over and speaking softly to the guy behind it. The other man nodded and turned around, grabbing a three foot long slightly curved staff off the wall, handing it to his boss; who then turned and headed into the back room. After about ten minutes he came back, sans stick. With a gleam in his eye, he grinned at Regina and announced, “It’s all taken care of, we can go whenever you’re ready. Should I be changing though?” he gestured at his current attire, worn jeans and a t shirt. Regina eyed her own extremely casual cloths and rolled her eyes.
“Why bother? Everyone else will be prancing about in their fanciest threads. If we dress up for them, they might start to think we give a damn about what they think of us.” With that she signaled to Lance, giving him a moment to get in front of her as she headed out. Shamus followed, grabbing a hat and over shirt from behind the bar as he went.

Regina headed out the door, flanked by Sonya and Shamus, nodding the the regulars who saluted her with their drinks as she went by. Waiting as Lance scanned the street outside, she glanced down at herself and smiled a bit. There was no doubt that everyone else would be dressed to the nines; while she herself was a bit more casual. A pair of neat black slacks, emerald silk shirt and long black trench coat. She didn’t believe in luxury purely for it’s own sake; but it was ok to have the nicer things in life. The ride out to the Black was uneventful, mostly because her people were quite good at their jobs. Like most things in her life, she didn’t care about appearance, but rather quality. Getting out of the car at the restaurant, she nodded politely at the man holding the door open for her. Looking over her shoulder, she could see Shamus pulling up to the curb in his truck, stepping out and leaning against it with what she could only describe as a shit eating grin. She smiled back and tipped off a small salute, knowing that if anyone started trouble out on the street, Shamus and whatever the hell he had stashed in that truck of his would end it.

Regina had to fight down a smile as she went down the hall to the meeting room, a bottle tucked under one arm. It was lined with heavily armed guards, all of them staring stoically ahead.
“Gentlemen.” she nodded at them as well. No need to be rude without reason. Lance entered the room ahead of her, scanning quickly and automatically evaluating the people already there for threats. Regina simply placed her bottle on the table and slid it down towards Gabriel. She nodded at the other heads of gangs already at the table and sat down towards the middle, Sonya sliding in next to her and Lance taking up a position behind her.
“A good aged double distilled Calvados. Got it in with my last shipment, thought you might like it.”

The setting changes from Modern Day London, 2012 to The Black

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Character Portrait: Regina Smith
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Regina couldn’t help a small smile that crossed her face. “You’re picking up the tab tonight? Well then, why don’t we indulge? Just in the spirit of the moment?” She leaned back in her chair a bit, signaling one of the nearby waiters.
“I’d like the Chteau Mouton Rothschild Pauillac, from ’86; if you don’t mind. Thank you so much.” She turned back to the table and settled in her chair as if she hadn’t just ordered a $600 dollar bottle of wine on someone else’s tab. While she generally didn’t indulge, it was fun every once and a while.

“Gabriel, just what is it you hope to accomplish tonight? None of us here got where we are by being all that willing to follow rules. I mean, you did get us all here at one time, congratulations, but . . . you can’t think that peace keeping in a time of conflict is going to be as easy as maintaining a peace that’s already in place.”

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Regina swiveled in her seat and smiled wryly over at Sir Lord Charles Westing. The over dressed Lord always seemed so stiff when he had to deal with those that had earned their money the old fashioned way.
“So then, Sir Lord. How goes the grocery business? I know that it must be so hard to answer to shareholders for what you do. Oh wait, no I don’t.” Her street drawl had thickened as she spoke, not bothering to hide her origins. She had clawed her way up through sheer hard work, she really didn’t have much respect for those that had their start handed to them on a platter.

Settling back in her chair, Regina sipped her wine, thanking the server who had appeared at her shoulder to pour a discreet glass.
“Tell me, do you plan on playing nice with the babysitter?” A wave of her hand indicated Gabriel sitting silently at the head of the table.

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"My dear Sir Lord, if you think that the rest of us don't work for our livings, you are sadly mistaken. We've all had to fight for what is ours, we weren't handed a company or two along with the car keys when we turned 16." Regina grinned and leaned to the side, gesturing gracefully with the wine glass in her hand. "Do you even know what it's like to get your hands dirty? I mean really, truly, done a days hard labor dirty? Or are you above all that?" She grinned a bit mockingly. "You might want to try it sometimes. But you'd have to leave the suit behind."

"And I appreciate the offer for the ancient piss water. But I have my own suppliers, thank you very much."

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Regina laughed lightly and mockingly. "You think that your hands are the least bit clean, Sir Lord? What must that be like? I prefer to acknowledge the dirty things I've done in the past; all the lines I've had to cross. Makes the present luxuries all the more pleasant." She sipped her wine and smiled as if she didn't have a care in the world. Then she caught the rest of the insult and made a mocking little sad face. "Ohh. You called me tasteless. That hurts, it really does." Her eyes widened and she grinned. "Better be careful, you may end up an unrepentant criminal just like the rest of us. Won't Daddy be upset then?"

She looked up as the last Gang Lord's arrival was heralded by the throaty roar of a motorcycle engine. "Ah, there we go. We can get things started now." She raised her own glass in return as Reece walked in. "Lovely to see you, my dear." She tilted her head back to Gabriel. "And what does our host have to say then, hmm?"