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starandcloud · 1 year

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And They Were Roommates

TW: Simon being violent towards the reading, and mentions of bruising

Y/N greeted Ghost home, not Simon.

It had been almost six months since you had seen Simon last so hearing the door open and a heavy bag dropped your heart raced. Your bare feet smashed on the polished floors as you rushed towards Simon. You had leapt to hug him and for him to catch you, like you usually greeted him, but... instead of the warm arms you had grown accustomed to, you were met with an arm pressed to your chest and the harsh apartment wall. The wind had been knocked out of you and your vision blurred for a moment. When you could see clearly again, you looked up expecting to see a sly smirk but... you were met with a face you had never seen before. The look in Simon's eyes were murderous and the amount of weight he had on your chest was suffocating.

"Si... mon... It's me, Y/N, you're starting to hurt me."

Starting. Was a weak word here. Simon had already hurt you, you could feel the bruises forming on your back just from how hard he had slammed you into the wall. You were sure you'd have to fix the drywall before your landlord found out. The intent to kill faltered at Simon's eyes danced over your face, you could see the remains of eyeshadow and liner on his eyes. You couldn't help but wonder what had happened on his last "business trip" that would've caused him to act like this.

"You're home now, you don't have to be afraid anymore..."

You spoke softly, in hopes that you wouldn't spook him again. Watching his murderous gaze soften the slightest, you kept talking to him in that sweet and gentle tone. Making promises of tea and scones, or whatever else he wanted. As you talked you watched him slowly relax and let his guard down.

"And I'll run my hands through your hair?"

You offered but his arm, that had pulled away from your chest, quickly pressed into you again. His strength suffocating.

"Okay then, I won't. I'll leave you alo-" "No."

Simon cut you off, his eyes locked onto yours as he immediately rejected your offer of leaving him alone.

"I want you with me. I want to feel you next to me. I want to hold you close and run my hands through your hair. I want to kiss you until your lips bruise."

His words caught you off guard but you smiled sweetly.

"Of course Simon, come on, let's go get you in some pajamas and while you take a shower I'll make you tea and cookies?"

Simon quietly considered his options, his eyes leaving yours just long enough to weigh his options before returning to yours.

"Will you still be here?"

Simon asked... demanded. To know.

"Of course, I promise I'll still be here." "And breathing?"

His question caught you off guard, so you just stared at him. Trying to comprehend what he just said. You had taken too long to respond, in Simon's opinion, and you felt his arm wrap around your middle and one hand caress your cheek.

"Please... Please tell me you'll still be breathing Y/N please please please fucking tell me you'll still be breathing Y/N fucking please I-"

You cut him off by gently covering his mouth with the palm of your hand. It was then, and only then, that you noticed the desperate look in Simon's eyes. How fearful and teary they looked, you swore you felt your heart shatter and your hands gently shifted to his cheek.

"I swear on everything I believe in, I'll still be breathing."

You promised and watched as Simon's head slowly lowered to your shoulder. Your hand had shifted to his shoulder, gently sliding over the soft fabric of his shirt before shifting to the back of his neck. You ran your hand through the short blonde hair, ignoring the small sobs that came from the older man. You could feel his other arm wrapping around you and tightening as he slowly pulled your back away from the wall; rocking both you and him slowly.

"I'm sorry..."

He whispered out through tears, he repeated the phrase until your ears hurt from hearing it. You let him cry and hold you, you just had a feeling he needed it.

"Don't apologize Simon, I forgot how skittish you are after your trips. I've got you now. Don't apologize."

You said, your voice soft and gentle as you ran your fingers gently through his hair.

Simon didn't get in the shower until late that night, and you didn't bake those cookies until even later. Silently sitting on the couch, the two of you watch and over used family comedy and ate the cookies you had baked.

"Are these store bought?"

Simon asked, his hand buried in your hair as he looked down at you. Your head resting in his lap, your hair sprawled out behind you.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" "Cause they taste like shit."

His comment caught you off guard and you choked on your cookie, you sat up and Simon's hand immediately went to your back. Patting and rubbing it, a worried look on his face as you coughed.

"Are you saying that my cooking is bad Simon?"

You asked in between coughed before being handed some tea.

"No... I'm saying I like your baking better, it tastes better than the store bought shit."

Simon said, making your face flush. You weren't sure how he say it in the dim light but when he pulled you into his lap and gently held your face.

"God... What I wouldn't do to have your cooking when I'm away... It's delicious Sunshine..."

Simon murmured out his praise and gently stroked your cheek with his thumb.

"I love your cooking... And I love the way your face lights up when you figure something out in your little stories and the way your laughter is contagious and lights up the room and the way you can ease my mind just by being there and how you never seem to miss a beat when you come home and ask me about my day and how you hug me and hold my face and god fucking damn it Sunshine I fucking love you."

His words... they made your heart race and your stomach twist into a knot, trapping the butterflies inside. You could feel your cheeks burning but you couldn't help the way your eyes fluttered softly as you felt his lips on your cheek and slowly down to your neck... how your hands gripped his sweatshirt and your head tilted away from him and fuck... this wasn't right. Softly tugging his hair to bring his face up, you stared into Simon's eyes. The deep brown iris' stared back at you, almost wantingly as he pulled you closer.

"Please..."

Simon begged.

"Please let me kiss you and let you know how much I love you Sunshine... Please Y/N, please... I want to show you..."

Your heart almost broke when you heard him beg and how his voice shook.

"Simon... You're tired, get some rest and we'll talk about it in the morning, alright?"

You asked, pulling the quietest of whines from Simon as slowly nodded.

"Will you lay with me..? At least until I fall asleep, I don't want to be without you Y/N..."

It was a simple, and kind of cute, ask. So you agreed, you never thought it would end up with Simon's arms protectively around you as he slept, or you not wanting to leave or waking up throughout the night to Simon's quiet whimpers and his arms tightening around you.

I'll be up before him, it'll be fine

You told yourself but... when noon had rolled around and you were just waking up. You panicked. Not feeling Simon in the bed, you stumbled out of his room. The blanket dangling half off you as you fumbled into the living room, you didn't have a chance to speak before a familiar Scottish accent filled the air.

"There she is!"

Looking at Johnny, you tried to rub the sleep from your eyes. Spotting Simon, who looked kind of uncomfortable, on the couch; you carefully sat next to him. Leaning against him, you felt him tense up before his arm snaked around you and held you tight.

"Did you sleep well?"

Simon asked, his voice gentle; making you melt into him.

"mn...hm...."

You force out, cuddling into him. His warmth was lulling you back to sleep.

After that, you started to notice how Simon would go out of his way to do things now. Like buying your favorite snacks more often, or picking up more chores, and you noticed that... he seemed to be a just a little more... touchy. Than before. Nothing to make you uncomfortable. Just more touchy for Simon. As in, he'd ask for hugs more often, or would just straight up hug you, would ask if you wanted to watch your favorite show with him. Which you always said yes. And you'd end up with your head in his lap and his fingers threading through your hair. You also realized that... it took a bit longer to get his attention than usual, you'd have to call his name four or five times; and sometimes that didn't even work. You'd have to touch his shoulder or gently call out "Sweetheart" or some other nickname. You never really put two and two together but... it was nice. It was pleasantly nice to get this form of affection from Simon, it made you feel special and... needed.

Maybe you could get used to this?

#simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #COD MW2 #ghost call of duty #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #and they were roommates #faeriesberries

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ultraericthered · 1 year

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A tale of two "tragic downfall" villains.

Really think about this - the villain is someone who has suffered greatly in his life to the point of being a traumatized, fragile wreck of a person but is a close friend of the story's main protagonist and works alongside them for years until certain events make his hatred, pride, and need for power, control, and the loyalty of others grow and put him on a worse path, on which he betrays the protagonist and leaves them for dead, taking over his friend's group and making all of them follow him now, and when the protagonist returns to face him and get him to relinquish his control of the group, they have a fight to the finish where the villain proves once and for all that he is too far gone to see reason and beyond hope of redemption, so he ends up meeting a terrible, painful demise. Which one did I just describe?

And I don't want to tear either one of them down, since they're both phenomenally written villains who star in their own dark, tragic tales that were both very well executed. ....BUT, I have to go here: I believe there is one thing that one of them got down a lot better than the other one. And it ain't the damn dirty ape.

I am referring to the quality of pathos, which is derived from, for lack of a better word, humanizing the character. Matt Reeves has expressed very clearly that we are intended to feel pathos for Koba, and for his limited screentime in Rise of the Planet of the Apes and in the first act of Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, we do. The poor bonobo was terribly abused, tortured, traumatized, and damaged by callous human scientists and has the physical scars to show it. Even after joining with Caesar and being allowed by him to personally kill his abuser, the deep hatred of humans and fear of what might happen to him and other apes should humans find some way of striking back at them remains with Koba for years; the one thing he ever learned from humans was hatred and nothing else, as Caesar puts it. But the deeper into Dawn we go and the worse Koba gets, the issue arises. Caesar and all these apes were family to Koba for a good many years, years lived in peace and relative happiness, with Caesar even likened to a brother to Koba. However, after a heated dispute with Caesar over his willingness to work with humans turns violent, Koba is beaten down and sees none of the other apes are on his side, he turns his thinking around to view any "weak" ape who'd side with or have leniency on humans to be no better than humans, and that he needs to secure the loyalty of the stronger apes (including Caesar's own son) by taking Caesar's life and framing the humans for it. So he goes for it. And keeps going. And going. And going. And in all this time he's being a villain, the whole second half of the movie, there's not a single moment where Koba ever feels conflicted over what he's doing, no visible traces of remorse nor any sign that he's internally pushing back against remorse because second-guessing himself and surrendering to feelings of shame would reflect weakness. After he's shot his "brother" and left him for dead, Koba is stuck playing the one note of being an evil, wrathful, deranged, murderous monster. There is no metaphorical dog he won't kick, no one he won't mow down in order to assert his dominance and satisfy his rage, and no limit to his blatant hypocrisy. And yes, it was the narrative intent to have Koba slide so far down the slippery slope that he becomes this twisted caricature of his former self who must be put down. But at the time he's condemned and dropped to his painful demise by the ape who was once his brother, there should be a tiny twinge of pity and sadness that it had to come to this....but I think most audiences just cheered when it happened, as there was nothing in Koba left to feel any pity towards.

For Simon, being the equilvalent to what Koba was in the second half of the film occurs only in Book Three's final episode, "The New Apex". In the episodes prior to it, throughout the course of Book Three, Simon is one of the main protagonists and has a wide range of facets and emotions to his characterization; we see moments of him and Grace having the sort of camraderie with each other that could only come from years spent together as friends that makes them both a bit easier to like despite their apalling actions, we get funny bits from him that endear him to us, we see him get sad, get frightened, get confused and unsure of the direction Grace is taking things in, hear about his personal interests, learn about his past trauma, see him vulnerable and interally torn up by conflict. When he works together with Tuba in the Color Clock Car, even sharing a laugh with her, figuring out she's colorblind, and learning more about the sad past with her deceased daughter that also shows him how much Hazel means to her, we can tell that all his views about "Nulls" and about the train are being challenged and he's starting to second-guess himself, to think that this "Null" might be so much more than he'd written her off as from the start, which would lead to guilt and shame over all the "Nulls" he'd mistreated and killed in the past...and so naturally, there's the internal pushback from Simon, because he not only cannot admit to being wrong, he cannot let himself be wrong: he has to be right all the time so that all the years on the train and in the Apex can mean and amount to something beneficial to him rather than having all been a sad waste that'd render him a pitiful, insignificant failure. So with all doubts dispelled from his mind and clear from his consicence, he deliberately and cold-bloodedly sends Tuba to her death, and feels proud to have done so. Things only spiral downward into further darkness and madness from there.

Simon finding out that Grace learned the truth about Hazel before he did and withheld it from him as a secret between herself and the "Null" is the tipping point for him. He snaps, turns against Grace and leaves her for dead, and like Koba, now feels there is no one in his life that he can trust to be on his side unless he were to force their loyal devotion to him through fearmongering and shows of dominance. And yet even in "The New Apex", even with Simon at his most irredeemably loathsome and psychotic, the writing allows for some pathos. When Grace saves Simon from falling off the train, he asks her why she did it. Grace responds "I don't know." Looking at Simon's face in the brief silence that follows, we can tell that deep down in his heart of hearts, he was hoping for Grace to give him a different answer. Something like "because I love you" or "because you're my dearest friend", or "becuse I didn't want to lose you", or "to make amends to you for everything" or even "because you're not the one who deserves to die; you were right about me, about everything." But instead, he hears a vague, ambiguous "I don't know", as it was just basic human decency from Grace and nothing deeper than that. And thus goes away whatever was left of Simon's mind and heart, as he kicks Grace off the train to her apparent death in an act that rescinds years of love and friendship built up with her, raises Simon's number higher than even Amelia's, and sends him into a complete mental breakdown as we see a surge of conflicting moods all over him. So then even if his grisly end that follows elicts some cheering from viewers (I certainly wouldn't blame them!), that tiny twinge of pity and sadness that it had to come to this is very much there by the time Simon is dust on the ground that Grace is sobbing over.

Two exceptional villains in two exceptional works, but only with Simon do I get the sense of a victimized and vulnerable not-all-bad person who tragically descended into becoming a mega asshole. With Koba, I just see a mega asshole.

#Planet of the Apes #Koba #Infinity Train #Book Three #Cult of the Conductor #Simon Laurent #villains #comparison #tragedy #tragic villain #opinion #criticism #analysis

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bwobgames · 1 year

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Previous First

They go upstairs

After processing the knowledge that he basically asked for a one night stand, even though he is the kind of man who is afraid of such levels of intimacy with strangers, Detective Beebo is once again facing a fear

"I didn't think this house was gonna be so big... well, it is a mansion, so I should've expected it, but still!

So unsettling... especially this particular corridor. It's dreadful

"I'll just ... keep my eye on the rooms"

"Let's stick together. This house is too big"

"I agree, i don't like it either"

Oliver walks towards the room on the right, but the man quickly changes his direction to the door on the left.

He had a strange expression.

They open the door

"And there was only one bed"

"We can find another room with more beds"

"No, it's fine, let's just sit"

"So! This is a murder mystery party, right? Are we gonna be given roles like in Clue? I've only heard of these puzzle solving parties from other mystery fans on forums and I always wanted to be in one but you either needed an invitation or a ton of money so I never went and- So sorry, I'm rambling, anyways you could be the rich girl and I could be the butler, he's the guy who knows everyone's bussiness!"

"I just hope it's not an Among us party, I've heard those dont end well"

"Haha, yeah, I ... I don't think that's what's happening."

"Thank god, honestly, I'd be satisfied with a simple escape room"

"No, no, I mean

this is not a party at all"

"... Go on"

"This is a fundraising for a museum, something about a great hospital in a time of need.

But the invitation said nothing about it, and it seems the host didn't approve of the invitation either"

"Also, my reporter friend has told me that no one has seen or heard of Mr. Eugene Coli until this party, coincidentally, all of the guests here are related to him somewhat"

"Well, except you, for some reason"

"Do you see what I'm getting at? Eugene Coli reunited all of us here, and I don't think it was for good intentions"

"In fact, I think we are all in danger"

"Oh, this is serious, I should take off my hat to show respect to his hypothesis"

"That's a big accusation to make, but ... I can see some merit to it. A gut feeling of sorts"

"He did upload a video speedrunning OSHA violations, some even reaching workplace abuse, so it wouldn't be a stretch to assume he isn't the most benevolent person around"

"So... what? You think he might be making another weird speedrun with us instead?"

"I don't know, I'm not as good as you at detective work. All I know is that this man might very well be hunting us for sport, and we need to get out of here as soon as possible"

"... Even if what you're saying is true, we can't. There's a giant storm outside. We would get lost on the way to the village or straight-up freeze"

"We have to investigate this further"

"But what if that only puts you in more danger??"

"It's a risk we have to take. Once we figure out what is happening, we can counter it. I mean, we don't even know why or how he would harm all of us!"

"For fun, probably."

He looks angry

"Maybe, but we have to make sure, if we know more about the man, we can predict his moves"

"Don't worry, We'll do it together! This is not the first time I've heard someone wants to kill me"

"... I believe that.

I just. Would prefer to just be safe"

Seems like this guy is a rookie. Poor guy must be really stressed

"Don't be scared

I'll protect you"

He looks a little sad

"We should start by investigating his speedrunning stunt and see if something correlates. No one really knows what motivated that either"

"... I think someone here knows"

"... Who's that"

"I'll take you to them"

#this is a bit of right answer or wrong answer #if you go to someone who doesnt know what you want to find #then you'll have to wait another poll to ask someone else #like a videogame!!#detective beebo

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cosmicfurby · 3 years

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--AA6 SPOILERS--

well, gang, can't believe it's over. literally can't believe it's all over

first thing I'm going to say is I loved this game. loved it with all of my heart. it was so fun, and devastating, and wacky in all the best ways. spirit of justice has to be my second favorite ace attorney game ever, just behind dual destinies (because nothing will ever beat simon blackquill, i fear)

let's start with the characters, shall we? first off, i too would betray my ideals and everything I've ever been taught for rayfa. that girl over there is my daughter your honor may i adopt her as well

on a more serious note, she evolved so much! from having a blind faith on her kingdom's tragic law system to doubting everything she ever was led to believe, and finally, coming to terms with the corruption and sadness and lies and becoming her own person. i love her, she's adorable and dynamic and i enjoyed her immensely as a character.

as for other characters introduced, we have apollo's dad number 3, dhurke. we don't really "meet him" meet him, but we do get to know him quite well. what a dad, what a rebel, what a man in love. wish he'd stayed around a little longer and wish they had the guts to make him apollo's bio dad, which in my opinion was their intention, but they found no way to make that scenario work. i didn't expect to love nahyuta as much as I do, considering how much of a BITCH he is to us for most of the game, though you come to understand why. he's very very funny as a prosecutor and it sure was interesting to face him... though i must say, he felt just a little underwhelming after how fucking intense blackquill's arc was, at least to me. in any case he's a fine prosecutor and a character i have no issues rooting for.

the main villain... well. to be brief, laziest ace attorney villain to date. to be a little less brief, ace attorney villains are, like prosecutors, probably the most important characters. without a compelling villain, the game and the story simply don't hold. it's the case with the two first games, ace attorney: phoenix wright and justice for all, which don't have a villain that spans over the entire game like the rest of the games do, but do have this Big Villain in the very last game. and that's okay, as long as the villain is a strong one: von karma is the culprit behind what's possibly the most important case in aa history; and engarde is a surprise murderer that left us all shocked and reeling. dahlia, kristoph and the phantom felt stronger because they were villains to the whole game, directly affecting most, if not all, of the case in each of their games. but queen ga'ran... i don't know. as soon as I saw her face i thought "oh, so she's the villain", and that's not what I want in an ace attorney game. i want it to keep me guessing, or at the very least, be a challenge. ga'ran felt like a very weak character, just a tyrant queen. they fixed most of her weakness by having her not be able to channel spirits, which does give her a motive and a mind of her own, but... i don't know. after the phantom, who hid among us for an entire game and betrayed all of us, your average evil queen felt very very watered down. this doesn't mean she's a bad villain by any means, she just pales in comparison. like, come on, just put her side by side with kristoph.

in regards to the plot, it seems the ace attorney team and writers finally got the hang of it. it's consistent, has very few plot holes that i can point out, and is very solid. they did one thing in particular that i will praise until the day i die: though the game is, very undeniably, apollo-centric, they did not forget the rest of the characters. it would've been very easy for them to just leave athena on the sidelines as a supporting character, but they went through the effort of including turnabout storyteller which, though it may seem as a filler case, it acts as character development for thena. and that's so important, how they've learned from their mistakes and now pay attention to every character regardless of how central they are to the plot. i love how they treated athena, and would love for her to have her own game.

my revolutionary spirit enjoyed overthrowing a monarchy not gonna lie to you all that was very very fun to play

the cases were good, logical, not as fucking dumb as usual. the new dynamics in khura'in were a good way to include new things and keep things dynamic without necessarily adding another magical lawyer to the mix. the last memories of the victims were very well done from a technical point of view and engaging to play with, fun, complicated enough to be a challenge but not, you know, that last testimony from rise from the ashes. it was incredible and i would like to play with it more. i also liked how they didn't forget to include some perceiving and mood matrix'ing, remembering to use all the assets in our power. i really liked trials in khura'in.

i feel like this game came full circle, at least when it comes to apollo's character. he's undergone a complete transformation from that rookie scared of indicting his own mentor to a full fledged lawyer, one that has his own firm and basically freed a country from a tyrant. this was very well represented in that duel against phoenix, the embodiment of "the student becomes the master". apollo justice, dual destinies and spirit of justice have, from my point of view, been apollo's very own trilogy. now it's athena's turn, if capcom delivers, which hopefully they will before I go MAD

anyways go play ace attorney everybody, it's the best game franchise I've ever played in my life... I'll be over there, fighting the urge to get the great ace attorney during my finals. it's been a good one, the best.

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #that funny lawyer game #aa6 #ace attorney spirit of justice #spirit of justice #apollo justice

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voidstilesplease · 4 years

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By the Angel, TALK

Warning: THIS IS AN ANTI-CLARY AND JACE SPOILER RANT because I need an avenue to let out some of the steam I've been holding off since starting City of Fallen Angels. So PLEASE SKIP AHEAD because I don't want to burden you all with my reading woes.

This thing centers on the beginning of Chapter 9: From Fire Unto Fire and a little bit of Chapter 8. About eight pages of bad, bad romance set me off.

To start,

The rest is under the cut, so you can go away now.

So, what's been happening to Clary and Jace thus far?

This book introduced them now as an official couple, picking up from the end of TMI Book 3: City of Glass. I don't remember their every scene since then to the point in Chapter 9 where I stopped, but basically, they're having relationship issues early on. They're less than two months into their relationship, and the drama is too frickin much.

Jace has these weird dreams about murdering Clary and waking up guilty about his subconscious thoughts, so he goes angsting about it and avoiding her, snapping at her, being a total dick, and still question why people think they are on the brink of a break-up.

So, Jace goes with Simon in the next few scenes, in his plight to get away from her as far as possible, yet still be somehow close by being around Clary's best friend to "protect" him, so his distant behavior will be reasonable and forgivable. Yeah, make that make sense. 🙄 But of course, one way or another, they're going to have to get to the confrontation part (that I still wish had been equivalent to an actual break-up), and so that's when Chapter 8 & 9 enters.

Chapter 8: Walk in Darkness pp. 185-186

Almost instantly, the light went out of them, and the remaining color drained out of his face. "I thought --- Simon said you weren't coming." ¹

[...] "So you only came because you thought I wouldn't be here? [...] Were you ever planning on talking to me again? [...] If you're going to break it off, the least you could do is tell me, not just stop talking to me and leave me to figure it out on my own."

"Why does everyone keep goddamn asking me if I'm going to break up with you? [...]²

First, what an asshole?!

[1] So Jace finally in-your-face's Clary and confirms that he has been keeping his distance like Clary has the plague. He then has the audacity to [2] be annoyed for being questioned on his intentions of keeping the relationship that he has been actively evading for days!

I get that Jace sucks in romantic relationships and has been fucked up by his daddy-issues, but he has the Lightwoods. Heck, Alec is his parabatai. He sees working relationships, so he has to have known that you don't just stop talking to people close to you and have them not question the behavior, whether you're trying to pull away from them or not. Otherwise, then Jace is dumb for all that he's marketed as the "best" Shadowhunter in his age. Screw that.

---

“You talked to Simon about us?" Clary shook her head. "Why? Why aren't you talking to me?"

"Because I can't talk to you," Jace said. "I can't talk to you, I can't be with you, I can't even look at you."³

[3] Way to make a girl feel special, Jace. Oh, no, yeah. He's trying to do the opposite and push her away with some teenage boy angst that doesn't make any sense. Like, who says that, though, aside from dramatic love interests that can't make a better excuse for going emo?

That line IS TOO DRAMATIC that it hurts, ugh. 🤮

Anyway, so Clary walks out after that. I don't sympathize with her, but I'd do the same. Who wouldn't? Unless you freeze in the ridiculousness of the situation, that is, which is also likely.

Chapter 9: From Fire Unto Fire pp. 190-195

Now, here's the real shit. I want to quote this entire six-page scene back to Cassie and scream at her.

Clary reached the door and burst out into the rain-drenched evening air. [...] and was about to race across the street against the light when a hand caught her arm and spun her around.

It was Jace. [...] "Clary, didn't you hear me calling you?"

"Let go of me." Her voice shook.

"No. Not until you talk to me."⁴

[4] DUDE, what even happened to your I CAN'T TALK TO YOU, I CAN'T EVEN LOOK AT YOU speech, huh? Be consistent for once, apart from your douchebag routine. Make up your mind, Jace.

---

Still holding her by the arm, he half-dragged her around the van and into a narrow alley that bordered the Alto Bar. ⁵

[5] Man, I love a bit of rough loving in my literature, but I'm so pissed at you, Jace, don't even. Lay the hell off.

---

"I was going to tell you that I was trying to help out Simon. [...]

"And you couldn't tell me? Couldn't text me a single line letting me know where you were?"⁶ [...]

[...]

"I think," he said slowly, "that I thought that the closest thing to being with you was being with Simon. Watching out for him. I had some stupid idea that you'd realize I was doing it for you and forgive me---"⁷

[6] Addressing the lack of communication, that's a great path to follow. These two need to talk so bad. [7] But this line? Sucks Balls. You could be with her, Jacey, and save all the readers your drama if you only pull your head out of your ass and try to communicate. It's like you're allergic to it.

---

She took a step back, blindly, and nearly tripped over an abandoned speaker. Her bag slid to the ground as she put her hand out to right herself, but Jace was already there. He moved forward to catch her, and kept moving until her back hit the alley wall, and his arms were around her, and he was kissing her frantically.⁸

[8] Not only is this achingly cheesy, but it's also totally not the way they should be going off about their situation. They were already talking -arguing, yes, but they're still using words to reach out, and their relationship absolutely cannot be healthy without them. Thus far, they have spoken so less in comparison with the times they've spent canoodling. They're not solving anything by having drama on one second and getting it on with dramatic kissing on the next.

I don't care what Clary says about being so lost in love with Jace. He's treating her like shit. The least he can do is give her answers that she has the right to demand from him. Kissing is not an answer. But, well, maybe to Clary, it is because the next parts from page 192 to 194 are spent on softcore porn in a dark alley under the frickin rain. I bet that's a very romantic setting in their minds, huh.

---

And now this part:

It was nerve-wracking. She could feel the feverish heat that came off him; her hands were still on his shoulders, but it wasn't enough. She wanted him wrapped around her, holding her tight. "W-why," she breathed. "can't you talk to me? Why can't you look at me?"

He ducked his head down to look into her face. His eyes, surrounded by lashes darkened with rainwater, were impossibly gold.

"Because I love you."⁹

[9] Is that supposed to make me tingle? SET ME ON FIRE, but that is the lousiest I love you in books that I have ever read. AND IT'S THE ONLY ONE THAT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE, at all!

Shut up with this, can you please. It's not romantic at all. It's a dumb excuse and an even dumber love from the two dumbest people in this whole frickin series. Oh my god.

Clary, realistically, will frown at this answer. She will pull the hell away and spat him in the face with how demeaning his love is if it can make her sick to the stomach with thinking he has already gone bored and is only cooking the perfect way to cut off their connection. He hasn't given her a sound reason, only desperate declarations of love like he's trying to convince them both that it's true. And it doesn't make sense how she's still plastered around him in the cold, trying to convince the readers that every word from Jace has deeper meanings that she understands no matter how gibberish they are. I'm not buying that, okay? Stop selling your larger-than-life connection bullshit because that isn't real.

You've only been together for two months, okay? The strongest you can feel for each other is lust. And it's showing.

---

His hands slid down to her waist and he kissed her, long and lingering, making her shudder.

She pulled away, "That doesn't make any sense."

"Neither does this," he said, "but I don't care. I'm sick of trying to pretend I can live without you. Don't you understand that? Can't you see it's killing me?"¹⁰

She stared at him. She could see that he meant what he said [...] Her desire for answers battled the more primal part of her brain, and lost. "Kiss me then,"¹¹

[10] NOBODY THREATENED YOU UNDER BLADE TO DO THAT BULLSHIT, so shut the hell up with the whining. [11] and Clary, I am so disappointed. You've both just drained me, and I'm dry inside like a raisin.

The next paragraphs describe their very erotic kissing against the wall. Jace, propping her up and her legs around his waist bull crap. Seriously? Am I supposed to believe these two are, what sixteen?- up until Isabelle thankfully ruins their moment by kicking a garbage can that would look better with Jace and Clary in it tbh.

---

And the nastiest horseshit of all:

Clary looked at Jace. At any other time, they would have laughed together at Isabelle's moodiness, but there was no humor in his expression, and she knew immediately that whatever they had had between them ---whatever had blossomed out of his momentary lack of control--- it was gone now. [...]

"Jace---" she took a step toward him.

"Don't," he said, his voice very rough. "I can't."¹²

And then he was gone [...]

[12] No, I frickin CANNOT. His actions keep on contradicting his words, and he's fickle and can't decide which mood to settle, and it's so exhausting, honestly. He wasted a few pages for a cosmic, meaningless declaration of feelings. They're empty words. At this point, I believe the writing only strives to convince the readers that these characters care for each other but is shitty at showing it.

It's not love, because they say it is love.

---

I was already gaining hope for this book, and then one simple few-pages scene with clace squishes it, smearing the innards on my face.

Honestly, TALK OR TAKE A BREAK. This back and forth can't continue throughout the rest of the book or -heaven forbid- the rest of the series. Or at least, put these characters in the background if they really must drag on this problem, because I care not a lick.

Bye.

#📖: city of fallen angels #current read #anti clace #anti clary fray #anti jace wayland #city of fallen angels #mid-read rant #I'm just so triggered #books #bookish #bookblr #book quotes #book lines #shadowhunters #late to the party woes #cassandra clare #what are you doing with these characters #did you forget this wasn't a twilight fanfiction or something

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jos-corner-of-the-world · 4 years

Text

City of Angels - 4

{Part Three}{Master List}

As Yuto predicted, Raven wasn't allowed to keep her weapon. He almost smiled at the petulant look she gave the guard when she was asked to hand it over.

She wanted to yell and complain when she was frisked, but she knew she was too far out of her element to do so.

Once she was past the main entrance, the building completely blew her mind.

Yuto walked up to a keyless door and did something on the panel next to her. Raven couldn’t replicate it if she tried.

“Please follow me.” Yuto said.

This time she looked up at him and got her first full look.

He was tall with a nice caramel complexion. His eyes were dark, but still seemed to hold a level of warmth to them. His hair was slightly curly, thrown into a ponytail on the top of his head, small wisps falling down around his eyes and his neck.

Raven had to hand it to him, he was gorgeous.

“You're awfully polite for a fucking gangster.” Raven said suddenly.

“Thanks.” Yuto responded dryly, turning towards Raven slightly.

Yuto kept walking into a lobby area and pointed to a set of chairs.

“Take a seat, it'll be a moment.” He said, disappearing behind a set of doors.

Raven wasn’t alone though. There was a man stationed right outside the doors.

Raven sat there, watchful of the mean looking man in a sharp suit.

Raven didn't scare easily, but this man was clearly ready to throw down, anytime and anywhere. That put her on edge. Especially since she was stripped of her weapon.

“Simon, send her in.” Raven heard Yuto speak faintly a moment later. She exhaled a breath, silently thanking Yuto for getting her away from the other man.

She watched warily as the man walked over to her.

“Get up.” he said roughly as he yanked her arm, jostling her rib.

“I'm injured you goddamn brute.” Raven spit out, pulling her arm from his grasp.

Simon stopped and turned to her abruptly.

The cold look in his almost black eyes sent fear through Raven.

“Yuto may have played nice, but I don't. Run your mouth to me one more time and I'll cut that pretty little tongue out.”

The sarcastic reply was right at the top of her tongue. Luckily it never left her mouth.

Simon led her to an expansive room, Mr. Big sitting at a desk on the far side from her.

Raven had to stifle her laughter at the image. Contrary to his name, Mr. Big was a man of small stature and it looked like the room was trying to swallow him whole.

Simon went to stand next to Mr. Big while Yuto hovered near the middle of the room. It seemed as though he had put himself between Raven and the others. Raven wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, but she tried not to be touched by the gesture.

“Raven, come in.” Mr. Big prompted.

“Um, I'd rather not actually.” Raven said, not moving from her spot.

She watched as Simon took a step towards her, causing her to flinch involuntarily.

“Alright alright, fucking creep.” Raven said lowly.

Simon nearly snarled while Mr. Big laughed at her words

“Don't have self preservation do you?” Mr. Big asked her.

“Also don't have time for bullshit, but here I am.” Raven said, plastering a fake smile on her face.

“Should we just get right to the point then?” The boss asked.

“Preferably.”

“Is this you?” he asked as he turned the TV on, showing cctv footage of her with the guy in a headlock, gun pointed at the other.

“If I deny it, will you believe me?” Raven asked hopefully.

“No.”

“Then why even bother asking?”

“What did I tell you?!” Simon asked venomously

Raven shrugged, knowing she was probably going to die soon anyway.

“That I had a pretty little tongue.” she said, tone bored.

She could have sworn she heard Yuto ask her to stop.

“Fine.” She found herself saying.

“Yes it's me. What about it? Did I embarrass three of your henchmen or something?”

It was quiet for a minute while Mr. Big seemed to think about what to say next.

“Total opposite actually.” he finally said

“You mean to tell me that three grown men getting their ass kicked by a woman barely five foot tall isn’t embarrassing?”

“I couldn't give a shit about those men, Raven.” Mr Big said.

Raven was now thoroughly confused. If it wasn’t about the men, what was it about?

“So then can someone tell me what the hell I'm doing here?” She asked, raising her voice a little.

“Ari.” Mr. Big said, giving no other details.

“Ari?” Raven asked quickly, panic shooting through her whole body.

“What about her? You didn't hurt her did you? God damnit! Don't you bastards have any morals? She's a child. A CHILD!” Raven screamed at him.

“And you!” she said, taking four long strides to get to Yuto.

“You should have just killed me in my fucking apartment instead of bringing me here! You somehow built a false sense of security in me, letting me think I’d live. I fucking hate you.” Raven said, pushing Yuto roughly.

She felt more embarrassed than anything else. She’d let her guard down around Yuto and she was paying for it now.

“Raven, stop.” Yuto said, not actually attempting to stop her movements. He let her push him and slap him harshly on the chest, but he was not moved from his spot.

“No! Fuck you. I am such an idiot. I wish I’d have shot you in the throat when I had a chance. That creepy fuck was right.” Raven said, stopping her assault and pointing to Simon. “You played nice. Jokes on me I guess.”

“Are you done now?” Yuto asked, raising his voice.

“No. I’m just getting started actually! Since I’m not leaving this room alive, let’s air everything out!”

She turned her attention to the boss.

“You’re a horrible person. You run this town on fear. What for? Everyone knows you’re the Big man around here. Stupid ass pun intended. You control the money, the guns, the cops, the drugs. You control everything. No one questions that and no one's tried to stop you. You have people like big mean and scary next to you that overpower people. You murder people, people who don’t fucking deserve it, and now you’re going after another child? What the fuck could an innocent child have done so wrong deserve a trip to see you. So much for a fucking safe House."

Raven stopped for a second before looking up at Simon.

"And you...you're just a fucking creep. Tough man that bullies people. Here's your chance." Raven said, beckoning Simon forward.

"Come at me face to face. Don't be a pussy and shoot me in the back. Let me get a few good shots in before I'm dead."

Raven was running on pure adrenaline at this point. Her sense of self-preservation had really left her.

She watched as Simon angrily took off his suit jacket and threw it on the ground.

"You will stop right now." Commanded Mr. Big in a booming voice Raven didn't think possible to come out of such a small man.

"Fuck you." Raven spit out defiantly, staring the man down.

"I wasn't speaking to you. I was speaking to Simon. I'd also prefer if you didn't speak to me that way. But if you must, fine." Mr. Big said.

"What?" Raven asked, standing up straighter.

"Simon you may leave."

Simon nodded his head before picking his suit jacket up and heading towards Raven and the door. Raven watched him walk confidently towards her.

"I'm not done with you yet." Simon said lowly as he passed by Raven.

"From what I can see, we haven't even started yet." Raven bit back.

Simon stopped his movements and turned back toward Raven. Raven thought she saw Yuto shift towards her in her peripheral vision, but she couldn’t be sure.

"Simon! Get out now." Mr. Big commanded again.

Raven watched him walk out the door before turning back towards Mr. Big.

"He's your go to guy, right, your assassin? Why'd you send him out?" Raven asked.

"Because his services aren't needed here."

"Okaaay. So can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?"

"We could have done that ten minutes ago if you would have just shut your damn mouth and listened." Yuto said, using the same exasperated tone he had been using with her the whole time.

"I'm going to be really honest with you. Keeping my mouth shut, not my strong point." Raven admitted.

"Yeah, no shit." Yuto nearly laughed.

"As I was saying." Mr. Big cut in.

"Ari. The girl you saved today."

And just like that Raven was tense again.

"She's my daughter."

#scenario #imagine #fic #au #city of angels #yuto #kino #jinho #pentagon #Simon d #Simon Dominic #yuto au #4 #jos corner of the world

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renegadewangs · 5 years

Text

Ace Mindhunter - 1st Interview

Characters: Simon Blackquill, Athena Cykes, Shi-Long Lang, and a rogues gallery of AA villains. Fandom: Ace Attorney. Pairings: N/A. Warnings/rating: 16+, I would say. Talk of heavy themes such as death and abuse, plus cursing. Spoilers for every AA game up to Spirit of Justice, AAI2 included. Gratuitous amounts of headcanon for antagonists. Summary: Simon Blackquill is roped into a Behavioral Analysis project along with Athena Cykes. They must sit down with convicted murderers for interviews, in hopes of finding out just what drove them to their convoluted crimes.

((A/N: This fic is based on Mindhunter, which is not only a good series on Netflix but an actual book written by John Douglas, the FBI agent who played a very important role in the Behavioral Science Unit from 1977 to 1995. Behavioral Science aimed towards serial killers is a real thing and it’s fascinating. As an additional note, the prison’s setup is based on AAI2′s explanation of how it all works over there, so if you never absorbed any info from that game, you might be a bit lost.

Anyway, mind the warnings up there and enjoy!))

1st Interview Dee

Date: June 5th 2028 Time: 2:02 PM Location: Interview Room. Dee Vasquez was a woman in her mid forties, though the only reason Simon Blackquill knew this was because the paperwork in front of him told him so. Her short hair was as black as could be and her features showed virtually no wrinkles. Just as most other convicted felons, she was wearing the standard prison uniform of black and white stripes. There was also a metallic bracelet around her wrist, which ensured she couldn't leave the room without suffering a nasty disciplinary shock. Harsh as it seemed, that measure still paled in comparison to the shackles Simon had worn up until half a year ago. His own wrists itched at the mere memory of it. He had seen her around death row during his own incarceration, but he'd never paid her any mind. She had been very adapt at keeping to herself, just as he himself had been. There was something to be said about the company of fellow inmates, but that 'something' was not Simon's cup of tea. He'd had Taka. As far as he could recall, Vasquez had never been in the company of a therapy animal. “I will be recording this conversation. Is that all right?” he asked, sliding a device towards the center of the table which stood between them. As he felt it best to have her agreement on tape as well, it was already cementing the sounds in the room. Vasquez glanced down at it from the corner of her eye, but said nothing. Her expression, one of boredom, implied that this interview would be more troublesome than advertised. 'An easy start', Lang had told him. 'A pain in the arse', Simon concluded at this time. “... I shall accept that as confirmation.” “Hm.” Simon drew in a quick breath through his nose, then peered down at the prepared statement he was meant to give. Even looking at those words made him feel more formal than he would ever hope to be. Still, it was expected of him to say these things out loud. “Now, I am here on behalf of Interpol's Behavioral Analysis Unit,” he ultimately began. “What you discuss with me is subject to Interpol's confidentiality clause and cannot be used against you in your applications for parole. I'll be asking you about your family history, antecedent behavior and thought patterns surrounding the crime you have committed. Our goal is to compile several psychological profiles and, ultimately, use them to create a statistical analysis which will not include your name.” Vasquez crossed her arms over her chest, sitting back in her chair. “What is the meaning of this? I was convicted almost twelve years ago.” “The lady is quite observant,” Simon replied dryly. “As I've already stated, your answers will not serve as a weapon we may wield against you. Rather, by delving into your history and psyche, we hope to corner and disarm others like you.” “Others like me?” “Those who would take another's life and avoid their responsibility in the matter. Specifically, those who go to asburd lengths to shift the blame of that crime onto an innocent bystander.” “Innocent? Hardly.” Simon felt his eyes narrow at the statement. “You don't believe that Will Powers was unrelated to Jack Hammer's death?” “That is not what I said. However, I believe that no man is innocent.” The air with which Vasquez had uttered that statement was so very nonchalant, it came across as a fact of life rather than biased opinion. She still hadn't glanced Simon's way yet, either. She did nothing but stare up towards a far corner of the room. Why she had even agreed to sit across from him was difficult to estimate. Perhaps she'd simply wanted a change of scenery. Simon placed a hand on the table and leaned forward. “Even if no man is innocent, you are the one donning the garb of the common criminal.” “... Shouting.” “I beg your pardon?” “Out in the courtyard. Two men are shouting. Do you hear them?” Closing his eyes and straining his ears, he could indeed distinguish it. A pair of deep voices was engaged in an argument somewhere. That something so faint would catch Vasquez's attention was ludicrous, but then, perhaps anything was more interesting than Simon's words. Taking in a few seconds of the silence which reigned, he thought back to what had roped him into this situation in the first place. ------- Date: June 3rd 2028 Time: 4:23 PM Location: Simon Blackquill's Office. Even with all his past research into the Phantom, Simon had rarely ever spoken to anyone from Interpol. Perhaps it was because he didn't want them to hinder his work, or perhaps it was because Interpol itself hadn't deigned him worthy of their attention. If indeed it was the latter, the events of five months prior must have left such a grand crater that Simon, who was standing in the middle of it all, could no longer be ignored. To have a senior investigator visit him in his humble office would have been considered sudden overkill, were Simon not aware that Shi-Long Lang was long-time friends with the Chief Prosecutor. Simon's first impression was that Lang had walked through the door with extreme reluctance, perhaps even distaste. There was a particularly stiff slouch to his walk which implied as much, but it was the tone of voice which set it into stone. “Simon Blackquill. We meet at last.” “Not for lack of effort from my hand. And that's Prosecutor Blackquill, if you don't mind.” Lang's mouth curled into something of a smirk. As he made no attempt to approach Simon's desk and instead lingered near the door, Simon in turn decided not to get up from his chair. Courtesy was a favor to be repaid, after all. “Quite right. You did not clear your record for nothing. I have to say, though, the image of pencil pusher doesn't suit you at all. Lang Zi says: A wild wolf has no place among tamed retrievers.” “You must have gained the wrong impression of a prosecutor's duties from some of my colleagues. I tend not to push pencils unless the intention is for them to go up a culprit's nose.” “Getting confessions in any way you see fit, huh? That's a Twisted Samurai for ya.” Despite Simon's grin matching Lang's own, there was no covering the elephant in the room. Small talk, no matter how tinged with dark humor, was small talk all the same. The folder clutched in one of the Interpol agent's hands must have been there for a reason. “Agent Lang, humbled as I am that you would travel all the way here to speak with me, I doubt either of us are the sort to beat around the bush. Why are you here?” “Interpol has a project for you.” “I don't work for Interpol. I work for the Chief Prosecutor.” “And that Chief Prosecutor has so kindly agreed to relay all your most challenging cases, so that you may work with Interpol on a part-time basis.” A wild urge to protest dawned on Simon, only to die down as quickly as it'd arisen. If the Chief Prosecutor had agreed to this, it must've been important. Not only that; if Interpol needed assistance from a 'pencil-pushing prosecutor', they must've been desperate. He leaned forward and folded his hands together atop the desk, a very different sort of fighting spirit being born inside him. There was a fire the likes of which he'd never known; a fire which had spent the last five months smoldering due to lack of oxygen. “Is this about the Phantom?” he asked, convinced that he already knew the answer. “No,” was the unfortunate response. Lang finally approached the desk and allowed the folder to drop. It hit the wooden surface with a soft thud. His sharp gaze met Simon's head-on and when he spoke, it was in an impatient manner. “The Phantom is not your concern. It should never have been your concern to begin with.” “Agent Lang-” “Interpol has failed spectacularly in the past, but now that we have that mutt on a leash, I can assure you that the matter is ours to deal with as we see fit. No, you had best forget about it and focus your skills on more pressing, more recent problems.” Simon's eyes flicked towards the folder, then back up to Lang's face. “What is this project, then? Why does Interpol have need for my skills?” “Surely, you must have noticed. Over the past decade or two, Los Angeles has become a hodgepodge of extravagant murders, each more contrived than the next. People can howl all they want about this supposed Dark Age of the Law and how it may or may not have ended, but Interpol sees things differently. There is not a single city in the world which hosts this many desperate and innovative criminals. If there really was some sort of dark age, it was born from the killers themselves. Knowing that much, we need to take into account that fixing the court system won’t do a lick of good.” While disagreement was the first thing on Simon's mind, he decided to give the notion due thought. He visualized Geiru Toneido, who had murdered her own father by suffocating him with udon dough only a few weeks ago. That in itself was already a terrible tragedy, but her attempts to deceive everyone around her instead of accepting her own guilt had bordered on ludicrous. No common killer should have gone that far. If criminals were the ones taking advantage of the Dark Age of the Law to get away with their crimes, then criminals were indeed the root of it all. It came down to people who believed they deserved to get away with their crimes, even if the court system would normally say otherwise. “Then... What, exactly? You believe our water supply to be contaminated?” “I don't believe much of anything, Prosecutor Blackquill,” Lang said dryly, shaking his head. “FBI, CIA, Interpol... They're all scrambling to make sense of it. The Behavioral Analysis Unit-” “Behavioral Analysis?” “No need to act so surprised, I'm sure you know damn well what that unit does. Anyway, they believe the only way to get answers is to take a long, hard look at some of the killers we've caught so far. And I'm not talkin' about means, motive and opportunity- those were already established during the conviction. I mean the actual why of the matter. What drove a human being to that point in their life? Childhood, family, mindset... If we can find a pattern, we can solve murder cases a whole lot faster through profiling. Maybe even prevent them from happening in the first place.” Simon released a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes. “You believe that I ought to be the one to take this long, hard look.” “Again, I don't believe anything. I just do as I'm told.” Lang stepped back from the desk, instead wandering towards the window. “You have a degree in psychology. You have experience with constructing psych profiles. More important than any of that, you have walked the halls of death row yourself.” “You're barking up the wrong tree, Agent Lang.” “I don't think I am. You were virtually one of these killers yourself. They know your name, your reputation. And you know them.” “It is precisely because I know them that I cannot participate in this project,” Simon insisted, his voice taking on a low growl. “I know what it's like to hear the screams of those less lucid than myself. I have been forced to consume that paltry fare the guards claim to be meals, have had to endure the humiliation of sharing a shower with complete strangers. Every day, I recall how it feels to awaken on a hard cot, asking myself whether today would be the day that I die. I am a free man now, Agent Lang, with no intention of returning to that cage willingly.” “No one said you would set foot in death row. The interviews would take place in a specialized visitor's room and the participants of the study may be rewarded for cooperation if you see fit. Consider it an opportunity to pull these poor saps into more pleasant surroundings for a few hours.” “More pleasant surroundings?” Simon snarled, rising to his feet at last to stare Lang down. “Asking them relive their greatest mistake is considered pleasant to you? They already have more than enough time to reflect on what they've done.” “Which means they should be able to answer your questions with ease,” Lang rebuffed. “Listen, I’m not here because I thought I’d give you a fair shot at the job. It definitely wasn’t my idea to send a prosecutor of all people. If it were up to me, one of my most trusted men- or women- would go in there with a list of questions, but these killers don't open up to just anyone. We need to get just the right information to profile them. You fit the bill perfectly, Power of Suggestion and everything, and that's why it’s my job to persuade you to do it. If we don't find out what prompts these people to jump through hoops for killing, you're going to be taking on a lot more cases where the defense will want testimony from clowns and orcas. The Chief Prosecutor agrees, the LAPD agrees, Interpol agrees...” The hawk feather in the corner of Simon's mouth had seen better days, by now. He'd started chewing the tip of it at the start of Lang's tirade and now, fifteen seconds later, the bite marks were irreversible. The proposition made perfect sense, but that didn't mean Simon wanted to do it. Did he even have a choice? Lang didn't seem like the sort to give up easy and if that was how Interpol wished to play, perhaps it could be used to Simon's advantage. He slammed a hand down on his desk to be certain he had Lang's full attention. “I want the Phantom.” “Come again?” “If Interpol demands that I must be the one to interview these killers, then a humble prosecutor such as I is in no place to object. However, I will do a thorough job of it. As the Phantom has claimed at least two victims within our fair city of Los Angeles and went to extremes to cover it up, they have the necessary attributes to fall within the case study.” “I've already told you the Phantom is not your problem.” “If I am to accept this project-” “That's just an excuse and you know it. No one speaks to the Phantom, do you understand? Not even me- and believe me when I say that I would give an arm for the opportunity to exchange words with them. A high-profile liability like that is out of our league.” “Then, we will have to rise to the necessary level, won't we?” Simon grinned, his fingers curling along the desk's surface. “If you wish for me to compile profiles on these killers, then I will do so. However, my one condition is that should these methods be proven successful, Interpol will arrange for an interview with the Phantom. If they do not agree, they'll have to find themselves another former inmate with a psychology degree who excels at drawing the truth from people.” For a few seconds, there was nothing. Then Lang threw his head back and laughed. “All riiight, that's what I like to hear! A passionate predator is a successful one. I'll see what I can do!” “... Good.” “Looking at it from the official point of view, you'd be aiding Interpol as an external consultant and that involves a healthy helping of paperwork. Confidentiality clause and all that. I've got most of the forms here for you to sign.�� Lang meandered back over to the desk to indicate the folder. “But more important than the bureaucracy of it all is the more substantial situations. This project requires discretion. We can't be seen as hassling the inmates, or they’ll take measures against us. You need to keep your head down for the most part and play nice with the other kids.” “I understand.” “We can't have you processing your findings in the Prosecutor's Office, and so, you'll have your own little spot in L.A.'s Interpol headquarters. Report there tomorrow morning and they'll show you where to go. Now, as for the matter of your partner-” “My partner?” “You can't very well sit across from a convicted killer by yourself.” “I fail to see why not. I interact with killers before their conviction on a daily basis. That is part of my job as a pencil pusher.” “It's not a question of your grit, it's a question of what Interpol would say if they knew we weren't taking proper precautions. Needless to say, we got in touch with Athena Cykes-” “You did what?!” “Will you stop barking across my words?” Lang snapped at him. “Athena Cykes has partnered with you before and despite her age, she's supposed to be the best when it comes to processing emotional responses. You can draw out all the answers you want with the Power of Suggestion, but we need to know the feelings hiding within those words and that's where her special ability comes in.” “You refuse to let me meet with killers by myself, yet you claim it's wise to have a 19 year-old girl by my side?” “That 19 year-old girl has more of a reputation than you give her credit for. She's a feisty young pup, too. Ready to jump into the action.” “You've already spoken with her?” “She's already agreed.” “Then I refuse.” “Blackquill-” “Prosecutor Blackquill. And I will not allow that girl anywhere near convicted butchers.” Lang grit his jaw, his nostrils flaring. Then he threw a glance down at his watch and shrugged his irritation off. “Fine then. Have at it by yourself, see where it gets you.” ------- Date: June 5th 2028 Time: 2:05 PM Location: Interview Room. This interview was headed nowhere at the most rigid of paces. Simon would have dismissed further attempts as a waste of his time, were it not for Vasquez's MO. She had been convicted on charges of manslaughter out of self-defense, and if indeed it had been self-defense, why had she not outright admitted to that from the start? Why target Will Powers? Had it been out of a grudge, or had she taken advantage of an opportunity regardless of who she trampled under her heel? In order to construct a proper psychological profile, he would need far more answers than Vasquez was willing to provide. The door slammed open quite suddenly and in walked the one person Simon hadn't wanted to see here. There was not a single shred of intimidation to be found in her, as if she'd walked into a grocery store as opposed to a prison. She pulled up a chair, smiling as brightly as ever, and dropped herself down on it. “Buen día! Sorry I'm late! The subway was delayed!” she proclaimed. A pause, then she leaned in closer to the recording device. “This is Athena Cykes, by the way. In case that's needed for documentation.” While Vasquez didn't turn her head, Simon could see that her eyes had moved towards the newcomer. “What are you doing here?” he asked Athena, as he thought he'd made himself quite clear towards Lang. “I'm here to help with the interview, of course! Looks like you don't have any notes yet... That's great, I was worried I might've missed something important! You've already done the explanation and the statement thing, right?” Simon managed to stop himself from grumbling and hit a button to pause the recording. This next bit didn't need to be saved for posterity: “I told Agent Lang that I would handle the matter by myself.” “Right. And Agent Lang told me that you told him that,” Athena replied cheerfully. She took out a small, colorful notebook even as she spoke. “But he also said that you're my peer, not my boss, so if I wanted to take the job you couldn't stop me.” Once again, Simon had to fight a hard battle to swallow his next words. His fierce gaze moved from Athena to Vasquez, only to note that the subject of their study was no longer looking bored. A hint of a smile had come to being on her face. Was she mocking him? Athena hit the button on the recorder again, then turned her attention to Vasquez. “It's an honor to meet you, ma'am! I have to say, I love your work. Samurai Summer, Dynamite Samurai... The original Steel Samurai is great too, of course, but there's something about those old movies that just can't be replicated.” “... You saw Dynamite Samurai? A young girl like you?” Vasquez sounded almost suspicious of the claim and Athena must've caught onto that in a heartbeat. “I did! I must've seen it ten times! When I was growing up in Europe, those old movies would rerun really often in a whole bunch of different languages. Did you know that in the German version, they changed Uncle Samuel to Aunt Sammy?” “... Because Samuel was so effeminate and close to Hiroshi, it raised questions for some.” “Right! I always thought that was weird. But you were the producer, so I've gotta know. Do you think that the change messed with your artistic vision?” “The decision was not mine to make. A producer has no influence over localization. Men felt threatened by such progressive notions and so, they did as they pleased.” Athena started scribbling down a few notes. Simon attempted to read them, only to find himself unable to decipher her handwriting. Hieroglyphs would've been preferable at this point. “That must've struck you as very unfair,” Athena surmised. Though she stopped writing, her pen remained pressed against the paper. “I'm sorry, I didn't have time to read through the profile Interpol gave us, so I'll have to ask a few obvious questions. Will that be all right?” Vasquez glanced towards Athena, only for a second or so. “... Go on.” “What was your family life like, growing up? Were your parents happily married? Any siblings? Things like that.” “My parents were just fine. I had no problems with either of them. They had no problems with each other.” Vasquez paused and her arms, crossed over her chest as they were, strained visibly. “I have two older brothers.” “Really? I don't have any siblings myself, but I hear that brothers can be a pain sometimes.” “They were exceptional pains.” “So you didn't get along with them, huh? Why not?” “They were bullies. They would destroy my things and walk away without so much as a lecture.” Athena was taking notes again, and Simon found himself doing the same. It was a relief that they were finally getting some answers, but at the same time, he was frustrated. Why was it that Vasquez would respond to Athena, but not to him? Who was the master of the Power of Suggestion, if not him? … Well, he supposed the remainder of the interview would solidify just why Vasquez was so difficult to work with. “What about your family later in life? Did you ever get married?” “I was married four times.” “Four times?!” Athena reached for the folder in front of Simon and flipped through the papers. “But it says here you were only 34 years old when you were arrested.” “No one said they were long marriages.” “What happened? Did you marry them too soon, or were you just fast to settle on divorce?” Vasquez reached for Athena's pen and pulled it from her grasp. Simon reflexively prepared himself to interfere, should there be a need, but violence was not at all Vasquez's goal. She held the pen between her index and middle finger, twirling it up and down even as she regarded Athena with a cold stare. “I was naive. I learned the hard way that men consider themselves stronger than us. The only way to survive is to be stronger than them.” “What do you mean? Did any of your husbands ever hurt you?” “Not with their fists. It was their words, their actions behind my back... My first husband found himself a new girlfriend only three months into our marriage. My second husband squandered our money. The third husband thought I should give up on my career and instead become a mother. My fourth husband was just like the first. What a joke.” “You didn't think to talk these problems through with them before slamming down the divorce papers?” Simon asked. Vasquez ignored him, instead raising the back of the pen to her mouth as if it were a cigarette. “Ah... What my partner is trying to ask is whether you communicated your concerns with them,” Athena said, and Simon felt his nose crinkle at the political wording of it all. “They would not listen,” was the ambiguous response. “Hmm... But you found other men who would listen to you, right? Even if you didn't marry them?” “Are you referring to my friends in the mafia? Or perhaps that spineless director?” “Either, really. If they listened, they listened.” “My mafia friends in particular were very good to me. They recognized my strength. As for Manella, he loved to play the part of my doormat. Masochist that he was, he was inspired by my treatment of him. I didn't even need to lift a finger. A good scolding already served as enough intimidation. One doesn't often meet a man who makes his presence worthwhile simply by being yelled at. His resulting scripts brought in good money. Still, I would not say any one of those men listened. They only did as they were told.” Athena flipped to the next paper in the folder, describing in full detail the crime Vasquez was accused of. Most prominent was a photograph, showing a man impaled on a fence while both Vasquez and another man watched in horror. “What about Jack Hammer? Did he listen to you after you made that accident with Manuel disappear?” “He had to. That does not mean he wanted to. His revenge proves that.” “Right, right... You blackmailed him and-” “Not blackmail. I reminded him of his place,” Vasquez said quite sharply. “Sorry. You kept him in his place and after five years of that, he decided he'd had enough. He came to you in disguise and tried to kill you, so you defended yourself. Or at least... That's what the report says. Could you say in your own words what happened?” “My own words... They are the same. I agree with that statement.” Before Simon could process it was happening, Athena had snatched the pen from his hand. She used it to take a few more notes. When she continued with her questions, her voice was more subdued. “Do you regret how things ended?” “I am in prison. So yes. I regret it.” “But... What about Jack Hammer's life? Do you regret ending it?” “Not at all. Jack Hammer was a murderer who should have been executed for Manuel's death. The way I kept him in line for those five years was too mild a punishment. Perhaps he came to me that day because he knew that as well. Perhaps he wished to die for his crime.” Athena exchanged a glance with Simon, who could give her no proper response. She shook her head, looking frustrated. Perhaps she could see something- or hear something that he could not. Was there a hidden meaning in Vasquez's words? Simon didn't need to ponder the matter for too long, as Athena was the one to bring that truth into the light. “Ms. Vasquez...” she began, her knuckles whitening around the pen. “The way you keep talking about men, you act as if they're all beneath you. You're filled with anger towards them. But whenever you talk about Manuel, your heart betrays grief. You must've taken his death especially harshly. Were you in love with him?” At last, some wrinkles came into being on Vasquez's face, similar to the cracks which formed in the casing of Athena's pen. “... Had Manuel been my fourth husband as opposed to the wretch I did marry, it would have lasted.” And there it was. The grandest portion of the why they'd been searching for. Simon was at a loss for words, though it didn't matter. Just as Athena had led the conversation, she brought it to its proper conclusion. “Thank you for your honesty, Ms. Vasquez. It must have been painful for you to recall such things. I have one more question for you, if you don't mind.” “One more, then.” “If you believed that Mr. Hammer's death was justified and he would have killed you, had you not defended yourself... Why didn't you admit that to the police? Why go to such lengths to frame Mr. Powers?” Vasquez brought the broken pen to her lips again, not realizing that the blue ink was staining her lips. She looked thoughtful, the most minute of frowns tugging at her eyebrows. “Is that not obvious? It is because I didn't want to go to prison.” To Be Continued

#my fanfiction #aa #aa spoilers #simon blackquill #athena cykes #AA mindhunter

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