#Y’all all know it’s harder to ignore shit when it’s SENT DIRECTLY TO YOU

[femmeidiot]

God everyone always has something to say. I don’t answer mean anons they send me more of them I do answer mean anons someone tells me not to engage. There’s no winning with you people and I don’t know what I do to make y’all all fucking hate me so much.

[dragonheart-swtor]

Imperial Agent Storyline: Drunk History Version

Since people really seemed to like the last one! Y’all’s collective wish is my command. Spoilers for the Imperial Agent storyline, obviously. Enjoy!

- so you start out with your agent on Hutta, a little polluted slimeball of a world that literally everyone but the Hutts canonically hates. there's lore but we're going to ignore it. the important thing is that you're here to con a Hutt, always a dangerous gambit, into working with/for the Empire.

- you sneak into a corner to space facetime your boss, a guy we only ever know as Keeper because Intelligence is weird about names. sneaking into corners to facetime people is a repeating theme throughout the story.

- you are informed that you've already got a cover story set up, and you'll be posing as an infamous pirate called the Red Blade who'll be able to get in close to the Hutt in question, whose name I've forgotten. Nethro or Nefro or something.

- "wait, what about the actual Red Blade," you ask your boss, probably

- "he's halfway across the galaxy, you don't need to worry about him," your boss replies, in a textbook example of what we in the writing business call “foreshadowing”

- (spoiler alert: you need to worry about him)

- but we won't worry about that for now. bada bing bada boom, you stroll on into the Hutt's place. you are immediately confronted by a guy who, shock and horror, actually knows the real Red Blade and knows you ain't him. (one would think that all-seeing Intelligence would have known about him, but nuance.) this is a problem for a number of obvious reasons.

- your options are as follows: bribe him, kill him, or sleep with him. (this is also something of a recurring theme throughout the story.) whatever option you take, he's dealt with. (yes, this is the man eris fucked five minutes into her storyline.)

- (I didn’t want to pay him money, leave me alone.)

- anyway, the mission progresses smoothly. meet the Hutt, do some jobs for the Hutt, betray the Hutt's right hand and stab him in the back right after convincing him you were friends, invade the Hutt's rival's palace, McMurder the Hutt's rival, you know. your average day at the office

- most of the way through, the Hutt's other right hand starts to be suspicious about you. this is Kaliyo Djannis, and she will be Plot Relevant™.

- by which I mean she shortly thereafter walks in on you facetiming your boss and gets hired by Intelligence to help out for gods know what reason. welcome to your first companion

- (or possibly you walk in on her facetiming your boss in your room, I.. don't remember, honestly. something like that.)

- anyway one Hutt is dead the other is working with us bada bing bada boom this is going great and hey remember when I said you needed to worry about that guy you're impersonating this whole time? yeah, about that,

- so the real actual Red Blade comes sailing in to Hutta and Intelligence immediately calls you up like "hey, hate to bother you, but your cover's about to get blown in a big way and we need you to murder the guy whose identity you've stolen before he can expose you.” 

- "so, just like that training mission last week. gotcha, boss, no problem."

- murder time™

- congration you done it! go home to Dromund Kaas.

- "You're on Imperial soil now, agent. Welcome home." [nonhuman Agent immediately experiences 27492738957 microaggressions] (this joke isn’t mine, for the record)

- first off, Intelligence HQ has a bomb aesthetic, as does the entire Empire in general

- second off, you do walk in on your boss talking to - by which I mean "being given a speech by" - a Dark Lord, which is less than optimal for a number of reasons, first and foremost that speeches by Dark Lords of the Sith quite often immediately precede someone getting killed

- said Dark Lord is one Darth Jadus, who will proceed to be a thorn in your side for approximately the next three hours of gameplay

- (don't worry, after that three hours you'll get a worse thorn)

- Darth Jadus decides he likes you and declares you "his" agent, which you immediately get the gist is about the worst thing that can happen to an Intelligence agent from the way everyone around you treats you like you've just had a ticking bomb strapped to your back for the rest of this meeting

- you're sent on a handful of missions, including one to the Dark Temple which, you know, Force-deaf people aren't supposed to be in, but Jadus Does Not Care

- Jadus calls you into his office at one point and tells you he's going to do some ritual to bind you to his service or something, it's not really clear, but it's clearly Not Optional and also terrifying in concept

- now, quick sidebar. there are basically two paths to take here: one where you suck up to the Sith and treat them with the utmost care and respect and fear like you're kind of supposed to, and one where you mouth off at every opportunity. Eris is mortally terrified of Sith, so she just kind of.. submitted knowing she was going to die if she didn't.

- my second run, however, was just a "hey how bad can I fuck this up" character because I already knew the story.

- I decided to mouth off to Jadus at every opportunity, including adamantly refusing this ritual.

- "What can he do to me?" I asked the person I was playing with. "I'm the protagonist! It's not like he can kill me!"

- Jadus: *kills me*

- me:

- (mechanically, anyway; story-wise I'm sure he just. put her on the brink of death. but mechanically speaking he literally actually did kill my toon)

- (this should be a warning for exactly how much this storyline is willing to put its usually-heavily-plot-armored protagonist through.)

- anyway.

-  do some missions, blah blah blah, Sith possession in the Dark Temple, blah blah blah, you know the drill

-  well, turns out Jadus is going on tour with several hundred Imperial civilians, military, and Sith, allegedly all hand chosen, to share his ~vision for the Empire~. that's all well and good, whatever I gue-

- sorry what do you mean his ship exploded

- what do you mean a member of the Dark Council just blew up in orbit

- cue Kill Bill sirens

- Panic! At The Intelligence HQ

- this throws everything into chaos; not only was Jadus more directly involved in Intelligence, but he was a Dark Councilor so now there's a massive power vacuum

- the Sith who ends up filling this power vacuum? Jadus's daughter, Darth Zhorrid.

- remember when I said you'd have a bigger thorn in your side after Jadus?

- so yeah. so Zhorrid is, for lack of a better word, fucking terrifying

- she's sadistic and completely careless of others' lives or wellbeing and oh yeah she also instantly latches onto you even harder than her father did and demands you find his killer

- a lot of your meetings with her aren't really plot-relevant so I'll sum them all up here:

- Zhorrid was horribly abused by Jadus, completely broken. She tells you a story about how she used to sing, and her father hired a tutor, then had her sing at a Kaas City performance until her throat was so damaged she could never sing again. He tore every scrap of joy out of her life, completely failed to teach her what she needed to know to survive the rigors of the Dark Council, and instilled every ounce of hatred, sadism, and complete lack of pity he could in her.

- She kills people for no reason other than a whim, because she was listening to a Sith opera and the aria was "very moving" (an actual literal thing that happens).

- She acts like a complete spoiled brat child. At one point the other Dark Councilors literally beat and torture her, presumably for this reason because she's insufferable and arrogant and way out of her depth, and she cries to you about it

- If you’re like me, your response to all this is basically “cool motive, still murder”

- I have sidetracked  very hard. where was I

- so you spend a while trying to hunt down the people who blew up Jadus's ship. There's a bunch of rebels, you hunt them down, they've got biotech weapons called Eradicators set up to destroy cities on multiple planets, skippity skip to the big reveal

- Jadus is alive, and he organized the whole thing so he'd be able to remake the Empire into the image he wanted. He tortured and enslaved the survivors of the Dominator's destruction

- Jadus gives you a whole speech about how fear is a gift to be shared and "Through victory my chains are broken" but there must be chains to break and blah blah blah holy shit this man is genocidal

- you have three choices: join him for real, pretend to join him so you can sabotage his ship and then kill him (at the cost of hundreds of thousands of Imperial lives), or refuse outright and save those hundreds of thousands of lives but Jadus escapes (and you know he's allegedly likely to return and do even worse damage later).

- (Quick sidebar again, for those who haven’t played it: Eris chose the second option and has nightmares about it for the rest of her life. It's actually extremely haunting in-game - as you're running through Jadus's ship to sabotage it as fast as possible, you can hear the distress calls from various colonies and planets being attacked, the screams of the dying that you doomed. It's horrifying.)

- so yeah there’s really no winning that situation but hey! at least Chapter One’s over. surely in Chapter Two things can’t get worse.

- Chapter Two: Things Get Worse

- there's this guy, Ardun Kothe, an SIS agent. he's a huge threat for some reason I don't remember. you're supposed to infiltrate the SIS to get close to and eventually kill him. not an easy job, but okay, we can do this.

- Intelligence sets up the meeting; months ago they sent the first word to Kothe that there was an Intelligence agent ready to turn and they've been building up from there, sending him a steady stream of information

- enter Hunter, aka the worst bastard in this entire storyline and that is an achievement. He's the one you meet first on Nar Shaddaa.

- you do some missions for the SIS, whatever, it's not important. You finally get to meet the rest of the team - and Ardun Kothe.

- Kothe wants to speak alone, which is p typical tbh. He expresses some doubts, which you assuage as best you can; he gives you your code name: Legate. It's from a form of sabbac, he explains, you'll have to play with him sometime.

- (It is difficult for me to make what happens next funny instead of horrifying, so forgive me if the tone changes a bit here.)

- Everything is going fine.

- "I'm sorry about this, Legate."

- What?

- "Keyword: onomatophobia. Engage Thesh protocols, phase one."

- Everything is not fine.

- You black out and have an extremely rude awakening.

- So it turns out whatever happened with Jadus, the Dark Council decided you were too dangerous (usually for doing your job too fuckin well) and that you needed to be leashed. So not you have mind control programming in your brain, and anyone who has your keyword can take complete and unequivocal control of your body. this is, in a word, not great.

- (This is, as I mentioned, actually extremely horrifying. You have dialogue options and they don’t change what you actually say. You have an opportunity to shoot Kothe and even if you try to select it nothing happens. But we’re not here for the horror take (not today, anyway) so let’s just This Is Fine that and move on)

- Tl;dr you can’t harm Kothe or any members of his team, you’re forced to obey anyone who has your keyword, and this wouldn’t be that much of a problem because we’ll just tell Watcher Two what’s happened and oh wait you can’t tell anyone about your programming either. well, shit.

- You go on to work double agent, like it was planned, with this new, uh. twist

- about a third of the way through the chapter, your mind kind of cracks and you start having hallucinations - seeing things you know can't be real during a holocall, passing out in the middle of your ship and waking up in medbay.

- After that, a new voice lives in your head! Watcher X, someone you either killed or let flee on Nar Shaddaa, has sort of joined the party. Is he an AI in the spinal implant the real Watcher X gave you? is he a figment of your broken mind trying to process its situation? Who knows! Not you! either way, this is not optimal but at least he seems to be being helpful this time

- so anyway we should probably try and figure out how to undo this programming bc Intelligence is being Wholly Unhelpful

- (ASAP, please, especially with how horrible Hunter acts toward you - let’s go with “uncomfortably leery,” which I promise is generous.)

- by the way, your companions still have no idea what’s going on during all this, although they try to be varying levels of supportive (thank you vector I love you bug husband)

- Good news! The Intelligence Archive almost definitely has information on what they did to you and how to fix it. Bad news! You’re definitely not authorized to look that up and crashing the power mainframe to make sure they don’t see you do it sends the security droids after you. whoops.

- Good news! There’s a way to fix you. Bad news! You have to make and inject yourself with a still-kinda-experimental cocktail of chemicals and it may or may not give you permanent brain damage. it’s fine. this is fine.

- also it takes a while to kick in which is Less Than Optimal and by the time it finally does you’ve just been left with a binding order to stay and guard the door on what is, for you, a suicide mission. there’s some incentive to “break your chains” for ya.

- You fight and kill Kothe. Who, shock and awe! is an ex-Jedi! this was in no way painfully obvious by how he kept talking about “sensing” things, I’m sure. definitely not.

- Hunter escapes, because of fuckin course he does. Hunter, who suddenly seems far more in control of everything than he had before. Hunter, who knows far more than he should. Hunter, who ends up leading you to a much, much larger conspiracy.

- End Chapter 2.

- Hate to disappoint, but Chapter 3 is honestly the least interesting to me personally, so this’ll be brief compared to the previous chapters

- You spend a lot of time hunting down this much larger conspiracy, including Hunter specifically. There's a lot of betrayal and secret reveals. (It's not tedious by any stretch of the imagination, but the story beats definitely don't stick in my head as well as the first two chapters, even after two playthroughs.)

- you go to Voss and, in order to get into a Voss-only archive, get married to a person you just met before almost immediately leaving the planet (and your new spouse) behind. this is never mentioned again.

- you get hold of a holorecording from the Star Cabal, the big conspiracy. problem: the holorecording contains a trap for the brain-enhanced Watchers, and now half of Intelligence is in a vegetative state. this is not optimal.

- partially as a result of this, Intelligence basically gets dissolved, which is Not Great because it puts you right under the thumb of yet another asshole Sith lord

- the Watchers are recovering, though, so that’s something. Watcher Two, now Keeper (the old Keeper got promoted), contacts you so you can keep working on this Star Cabal thing.

- you get intentionally captured so the Star Cabal can torture you and you can “break” and give them false information to lead them into a trap. you are immediately afterward expected to get back to work like nothing happened. this is never mentioned again.

- You track the Star Cabal to their base, way out in the Unknown Regions iirc, and infiltrate it during a meeting of the top agents.

- murder time 2: electric boogaloo (well, more like murder time 45, to be honest, but shh it’s fine)

- You fight the Star Cabal guys, chase Hunter through the whole place, and finally corner him.

- (Salt warning ahead on my part for the next story beat, if you can call it that.)

- Hunter, when beaten, reveals what I personally think is the most bullshit stupid reveal in the entire game: he is actually a she, and has been using a stealth field generator (or something similar) to change his/her appearance the entire time. There are multiple interpretations of this - "he's trans" is my least favorite, sorry-not-sorry, because a) it's pretty clear she still considers herself a woman and Hunter is just a convenient persona, and also b) a clearly predatory man is absolutely horrid representation as far as playing into harmful stereotypes about trans people, thanks. Personally, my rather cynical interpretation is that they wanted one more shock value reveal at the end of the storyline and I guess couldn't come up with anything better. It's my least favorite thing in the whole IA storyline.

- anyway, that's not really important. I just needed to be mad about it for a minute. ignore me. moving on

- The important part is this: what you gain from the Star Cabal's base is an item called the Black Codex, an ancient piece of technology with the power to erase all records of a person's existence.

- Unless you are very stubborn about it the Agent’s reaction to this is basically “oh thank fuck I’m freeeeeeeeee” and you fly off into the hyperspace sunset with your crew, giving middle fingers to the Sith whose grip you’re escaping all the way. which, really, who can blame you.

And that’s the Imperial Agent storyline, folks. Roll credits. I’ll probably do the Bounty Hunter storyline next while it’s still fresh in my mind, but I could also do the Sith Warrior storyline probably if y’all’re more interested, vote now on your phones.

[chungledown-bimothy]

Trust Me: Chapter 9

I cannot thank y’all enough for your patience. Hopefully the fact that it’s a relatively big chapter a little bit kinda makes up for the wait? Either way, thank you so much for reading, and I love you <3

Chapter 1 Chapter 8 AO3 Chapter 10

Warnings: A brief mention of the wounds from previous chapters’ violence, very briefly implied nsfw/daddy kink (to skip it, just don’t read the text messages after “Aww, you’re so sweet!”

Author’s Note: Again, the cipher is crackable with the information you have. (I’d argue that this one might be a bit harder, because I gave you fewer/subtler clues, but if you get how it’s encrypted, decoding it is a lot easier.) Shoutout to y’all who got last chapter’s! <3

Word Count: 3,660

Tag List: @ccecode​ @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn​ @ren-allen​ @ilovemygaydad​ @bloodropsblog​ @funsizedgremlin​ @raygelkitty​ @roxiefox23​ @thomasthesandersengine​ @spookyingarbageisland​ @band-be-boss-blog​

"The truth, however ugly in itself, is always curious and beautiful to the seeker after it," Virgil muttered. Running his hand through his hair, he looked up to see that it was 8:30. He'd been at his desk staring at a copy of the note for over two hours. There was something familiar about the phrase; the feeling that he'd heard it before played in the back of his mind, just out of reach. He was sure that it was the key to solving the entire thing.

God, I wish I remembered more from that cryptology class I took in college. Okay, time for a new approach. Clean slate, let's go through what we know about him, Virgil thought.

He's a man in his late twenties or early thirties. He's highly intelligent and well-educated, likely with a medical background of some sort. He's a mission-based killer, set on punishing people he feels got away with things, things the system should have punished them fore. Before Jason Dean, it seems. That change in victimology must be connected to why he sent this note, so I'll put a pin in that for now; I'll talk to Vincent about the autopsy report when he's done with it. 

He seems divided; some of the torture is methodical, but some of it seems more motivated by rage than purpose. And then there's how he treats them. Mission-oriented killers don't often torture their victims; the payoff is from the kill itself. But he's feeding them, keeping them alive for a while so he can torture them.

Does he want them to know what he's done? That's it. He wants them to recognize their 'sins', perhaps even repent for them. He needs the validation that comes from them acknowledging his power and that he is correct.

Everything he does has a literal meaning and a symbolic one, he continued. Nothing has only one meaning. On the surface, he's saying that he knows that what he's doing is wrong, legally at least, but he finds it beautiful. Interesting choice of wording. Not right, not just. Beautiful. It feels like he cares more about the torture than the mission. But then why the remorse with the pseudo-burial? He's so full of contradictions. And then there's the bit at the end. "Publish me", he said, not "publish this". Which goes back to the fact that he's got one hell of an ego; he wants the focus on him. Which directly flies in the face of most mission oriented killers- they want the focus on their message. 

I would almost think that there might be two unsubs, but two people being this organized and methodical is extremely unlikely. He's way too egotistical to cooperate with a partner, however submissive said partner might be. 

So, we've got an incredibly smart unsub who knows it and feels like he isn't getting the attention he deserves. A younger child, maybe? Not that that would help us find him. Round up every smart, egotistical younger son in the city. We'd get the founders of every tech start-up in the city; it'd be Gentrifiers-R-Us. Virgil shook his head to clear out the unhelpful thoughts. Focus, Virge. You're on a clock. So, what kind of encryption does someone like that send? What kind of encryption has each word represented by three numbers? It's not a trifid cipher; none of the numbers would be bigger than three, and these numbers range from 1 to 192. Most number ciphers assign a number to each letter; no way in hell all of the words are three letters, and 192 and 26 do not play well together mathematically. Think, Virgil.

Fuck. Okay, let's try another new angle. The series of numbers at the end. Clearly not part of the message. 10 digits, but clearly not a phone number. 055 certainly isn't a US area code, and the number isn't long enough for a foreign dialing code plus the rest of the phone number. Wait. Maybe it's backwards? 310 is Los Angeles. 

Virgil took out his phone and dialed 310-053-3550, heart in his throat. It rang twice before an automated voice informed him that "the number you have dialed is no longer in service". Damn. His heart started beating in an entirely different way when he saw that he had some new texts.

6:22 [Patton]- Hi cutie! Are you free, by any chance? It's been a really bad day, and seeing you always makes me feel so much better. <3

6:50 [Patton]- I was thinking we could get some dinner and then watch a movie or something at my place

7:48 [Patton]- Virge?

Virgil's stomach dropped. Oh god do they think I'm ignoring them? Oh shit. He quickly typed out a reply.

8:53[Virgil<3]- Hey, Pat, I'm here. I'm so, so sorry you're having a bad day. I can't hang out tonight, though. :'( I'd be with you if I could, though. It's been a rough one for me, too. Wanna talk about what's been bringing you down?

Their reply was almost instant.

[Patton]- Virgil! :D Aww, stormcloud, it's okay. Life happens; it wouldn't be healthy for either of us if you dropped everything when I'm just a little down. Besides, it was nothing, really. Just me being dramatic lol

Virgil felt himself blush at the endearment, but his brow furrowed reading the rest of the message.

[Virgil<3]- You sure? It also isn't healthy to bottle up your emotions. I care a lot about you and am always here if you want to talk about anything.

[Patton]- God, you're the sweetest! <3 I care a lot about you too. I promise, though, I really am fine. Do you wanna talk about what's bumming you out?

[Virgil<3]- I really wish I could, but I actually have to get back to it. I'll message you later <3

[Patton]- okie dokie. Don't work too late, okay?

He chuckled as he put his phone away and looked back at the note on his desk. Heather and Kurt are obviously people, Ram probably is too. Who are they, and what do they mean to him? The phone on his desk started to ring; Virgil jumped.

"H- hello? Detective Mason here." Virgil cursed himself for the shaky greeting.

"Virgil! I'm glad you're still here. It's Vincent. You said you wanted to know as soon as the autopsy was done; I'm waiting for a couple of particulates to come back, but the bulk of it is ready for you." 

"Vincent, you are a lifesaver. I'll be down in a minute."

"Did you know that the candy Life Savers was invented in 1912 as a summer confectionary alternative to chocolate, which has a melting point of approximately 86 degrees?"

"I definitely did not know that, but I did know that they started as mints and didn't become the fruity candy we associate most with the brand now until the mid-1920s."

"Fruit flavors were introduced in 1921, to be exact, but they did not have holes in them like the mints did until 1925, which is probably the date to which you were referring."

Virgil laughed. "Damn, I thought I had you. I'll be right down." He hung up the phone and left for the morgue. 

Three minutes later, he found himself being hugged by Dr. Nigel-Murray.

"I'm as touch-starved as the next gay, but why the hug? We just saw each other, like, five hours ago." Virgil looked slightly down at Vincent with a small smile.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying to curb my workplace-inappropriate tendencies, but, barring once during a time of great stress, people in general don't respond in kind to my facts." Virgil's heart broke for the vulnerability and pain in his voice, and he made a mental note to learn as much trivia as possible.

"That's a damn shame. You're a great guy, Vince- let's get coffee or something once I've cracked this damn code."

"That sounds quite lovely, actually. What code, if I may ask?" Vincent's smile was appropriate for the fact that they were at work, but Virgil could tell that he was practically bouncing with excitement internally.

"Our killer sent a reporter a coded message. I've got about 21 hours to crack it if I want to get this guy to come to me."

"Not to overstep, but I've dabbled a bit in cryptography; perhaps I could be of some assistance?" 

"I'd love another set of eyes on this, actually. Thank you! Here, give me your number, and I'll text you a picture of it once we've wrapped up here." Virgil pulled out his phone and unlocked it to find that his messages with Patton were still pulled up. He tried to stop himself from smiling, but he couldn't.

Vincent chuckled. "He must be pretty special, to get a smile like that out of you." Virgil blushed.

"Uh, yeah, they are. At least, I think so. I hope so." Virgil fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, refusing to make eye contact.

"Sorry about the pronoun flub. So, tell me about them!"

Virgil hesitated; opening up about his feelings certainly wasn't one of his strong suits, but he liked Vincent and wanted to be his friend.

“They’re incredible. Their name is Patton, and they run We Hart Coffee just a few blocks from here. They’re so funny and kind, and I’ve never seen a smile like theirs. It’s so genuine and infectious. The world genuinely is a brighter and happier place around them.”

“You really love them, huh?” 

“I- What? No. No way. That’s way too cliche. We meet in a coffee shop and are in love within a couple of weeks? This is real life, and stuff like that only happens in movies and fanfiction. And completely unrealistic. What?" Virgil snapped, seeing the grin on Vincent's face.

"Trust me, Virgil. My first doctorate advisor, Doctor Brennan, was in deep denial of her love for her partner, Agent Booth. They're now happily married with two kids. I know what repressed love looks like, and you, my friend, have it in proverbial spades."

"I'm not sure that that's the right use for that cliche, and besides…" Virgil sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So what if you're right? Even if I did love them, which I don't, they don't love me back."

"Not yet, perhaps, but you're a great guy, Virgil. Smart, funny, caring, and quite handsome. If I were into men, I'm certain I would be half in love with you, myself. Just give them time."

"Christ, Vince, I'm gonna cry at work and ruin the tough-guy aesthetic I work so hard to maintain."

Vincent hummed his disbelief. "As much as I love chatting with you, I believe you're here about a murder. Follow me, if you will."

"Right. Murder." Virgil muttered before following him into the lab.

"So, you know who he is. 18 year old Mission High student Jason Dean. You saw the burns, frostbite, and acid damage. We were able to determine that the frostbite was caused by liquid nitrogen, and the killer used hydrochloric acid. We also found that while he was less dehydrated than the part victims, likely due to being held for only about a week, as opposed to two or three like previous victims, he was far more malnourished than the others."

"God, why is he changing so much? A kid, a shortened timetable, not feeding him. What was the cause of death?"

"Strychnine poisoning."

"See, that's a huge departure, too. All of the previous torture was from knives and hands. Why the sudden change to substances? Did he get injured, or is something else limiting his manual dexterity?"

"I don't know about any of that, but strychnine is a fairly popular poison in popular culture; Agatha Christie used it three times- in Mysterious Affair at Styles, The Coming of Mr. Quin, and How Does Your Garden Grow?, and Arthur Conan Doyle used it in-"

"Oh. OH. Vincent, I love you, you know-it-all." Virgil started pacing, running his fingers through his hair.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The Murder of Roger Ackroyd."

"What? Strychnine wasn't used in The Murder of Roger Ackroyd; Ackroyd was stabbed."

"Yes, I know. The note the killer sent. At the bottom of the code, he wrote 'the truth, however ugly in itself, is always curious and beautiful to the seeker after it'. It seemed so familiar, but I couldn't place it until you just brought up Agatha Christie. Poirot said it in The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. The number. I'm an idiot."

"Breathe, Virgil. I assume that you just cracked the code?"

"Not quite. But I cracked our unsub. I knew it. I knew he'd hand me the answer. I can't believe it took me this long to figure it out."

"Okay, so how does The Murder of Roger Ackroyd help you?"

"Under the quote is a thirteen digit number. I'd bet my life that it's an ISBN for a specific printing of the book. It's an Arnold Cipher. Each series of three numbers is a page, line, and word. It was staring me in the face. I truly am Boo-Boo the Fool." Vincent was puzzled by Virgil's last sentence, but Virgil was far too agitated for questioning it to be prudent.

Virgil took a deep breath. "Okay, sorry about that. So, back to Jason?"

"Oh, right. Jason. Um, the only other thing of note that we have found at this point are fibers from a 1950s Volkswagen Beetle."

"That's gonna help a ton, as well. Vincent, you are my hero!" Virgil scooped him up into a big hug before leaving the morgue, leaving Vincent speechless for the first time in his life.

Virgil ran back up to his desk, furiously typing in his password. It took him three tries to correctly enter the number into the San Francisco Public Library website's search bar. He eventually got it, and there it was. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie. And two copies were available. The library didn't open until 12 pm the next day, however, so he went home after setting an alarm on his phone and sending a quick text to Patton.

9:52 [To:Patton]- Hey, wanna get dinner tomorrow night?

He was ecstatic to see a message from them when he got home.

9:55 [Patton]- Absolutely! You got the problem worked out? :D

10:10 [Virgil <3]- I found the solution, and will get it resolved by the end of the week. I'll pick you up on Friday at 7? We'll take a walk in the park and then House of Prime Rib, on me?

[Patton]- Are we celebrating something? Or are you trying to tell me you want to be my sugar daddy? ;P

[Virgil <3]- Trust me, Pat, if I had sugar daddy money, I'd love nothing more than to spoil you rotten. But nah, it's a combination of a small celebration and an apology for being unavailable today and for the next few days until Friday. (and i may or may not be buttering you up in hopes you'll share what's bringing you down)

[Patton]- Aww, you're so sweet! <3 (Can I call you daddy anyway?)

[Virgil <3]- Only if you want to be rewarded, baby. ;)

[Patton]- I'll be a good boy for you, daddy, I promise. 

Virgil noted their preferred appellation and responded in kind with a wicked smile.

--------

The next morning, Virgil woke up half an hour before his alarm was set to go off, feeling more relaxed than he had in months. I'm finally going to get this guy.

Figuring there was no point in just waiting around, he got ready and went right to work. He knew Captain Sanders would want a breakdown of the previous night's findings before he could start following the leads he had gotten from Vincent the previous night.

He got to the station and immediately started looking into Jason Dean and the possible claim that he was a murderer. It didn't take him long to find that three Mission High students committed suicide 2 months prior named Heather, Kurt, and Ram. Virgil tracked down the police reports for the deaths. By all accounts, they appeared to be through-and-through suicides. If Jason did kill them, the killer would need to be quite close to either one of the victims or Jason himself. Linking the suicides would imply that he's close to all of them. Maybe through school? Science classes are more than likely to have liquid nitrogen and hydrochloric acid. Any teacher would have access, but I'll look more into science teachers in particular. He's displayed some anatomical knowledge as well. 

Captain Sanders walked into the precinct, calling for Virgil to follow him into his office.

"So, what do you have?" he asked, after they'd arrived and shut the door.

"The note is a book cipher based on Agatha Christie's The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. The library has a copy of the specific edition I need to crack it, so I'm going to pick that up at noon, as soon as the library opens. Looking into the 'murderer' thing, there were three suicides at Mission High 5 months ago, whose names match the three not-coded words in the note- Heather, Kurt, and Ram. If they were murdered by Jason, that means the killer is close to one of them, most likely Jason himself. I think that's what the killer is alluding to in the note, but we'll see once I've decoded it. Add in the liquid nitrogen, and it points to a teacher, likely a science teacher. So I'm going to crack the code and look for other insights into him and look into Mission High science teachers. I have an updated profile, and I'll email that to you right away."

"That sounds wonderful, Mason. You've been doing excellent work; we're glad to have you."

Virgil shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I'm just doing my best, sir. If you'll excuse me, the library is about to open, and I'd like to get the book as soon as possible."

"Sounds great to me! Just send me that profile before you go."

"Will do, sir. Thank you." Virgil turned and left the room, hurrying to his computer before rushing to the library.

--

A short while later, he was back at his desk with a battered copy of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. It wasn't difficult to decode the message, but it did take a bit of time and a lot of counting and re-counting. Word by word, the message became clear: He killed Heather, Kurt, and Ram. Find the weapon; I know he had it. It is your evidence.

Virgil sat back in his chair once he'd finished, puzzled by what the note revealed that he hadn't already deduced. 'He' has to be referring to Jason. He knew we'd find out the reasons for him choosing the previous victims, but he needed to be sure we'd know why he thinks Jason deserved to die. I looked at the police reports for those deaths; the gun used to kill Ram and Sweeney was recovered on-site and is in police custody. He's obsessed with his mission, though. He wouldn't make this claim if he wasn't sure. I'll look into that once we've caught our killer. For my peace of mind, at least. Virgil cracked his knuckles and picked up his phone.

"Roman Prince, SFGate, how can I help you?"

"Roman, it's Detective Mason. Can you come down to the station right away?" The responding scream was so loud, Virgil had to move his phone away from his ear. "I'll take that as a yes?"

"Absolutely, Detective. I will be there as soon as physically possible."

"Don't break any traffic l-" The line went dead, cutting Virgil off.

--

Far sooner than could have been legal, Roman skidded to a stop in front of Virgil's desk.

"HelloVirgildidyoucrackthecode?DoIgettowritearesponse?CanI-"

"BREATHE, Roman." Virgil stood, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Yes, I cracked the code. Yes, you will publish a response tonight. But I'm writing it. I assume your laptop is in your bag?" Roman simply nodded- he knew that if he tried to speak, he'd start rambling again. "Fantastic. Let's get going."

45 minutes (and one call from Captain Sanders to Dan Humphrey about how not allowing it to be posted immediately would be obstruction of justice) later, a new post was live on SFGate's website. It was 4:02 pm, two hours before the deadline.

An Open Letter to U N Owen

It was a pleasure hearing from you. While I obviously cannot condone your methods, you are correct that our justice system is imperfect, and those imperfections need addressing. You gave me quite a puzzle, and I enjoyed solving it. It was clever, but not clever enough. I hope you'll forgive me for not following your directions; please let me know if this is inadequate.

Vq rwv kv dnwpvna, aqw'tg ytqpi. Jg fqgup'v jcxg kv, yg fq. Yg'xg jcf kv htqo vjg xgta dgikppkpi. Dwv aqw cntgcfa mpqy vjcv. Aqw'tg hct vqq engxgt vq jcxg pqv mpqyp vjcv. Wpnguu K'o qxgtguvkocvkpi aqw, yjkej ku c fghkpkvg rquukdknkva. Aqwt qvjgt cuugtvkqp jcu dggp pqvgf, cpf K uygct vq aqw vjcv K yknn rwtuwg vjcv qpeg yg ugvvng vjku ocvvgt dgvyggp wu.

Hqt pqy, vjqwij, aqw ujqwnf mpqy vjcv aqw'xg iqvvgp unqrra, cpf vjcv kv'u qpna c ocvvgt qh vkog dghqtg K hkpf aqw cpf tgrca aqw kp vjg ngicn hqto qh vjg eqkp aqw icxg vjgo. Aqw yknn (ogvcrjqtkecnna) jcpi hqt vjku.

Sincerely,

Det. Mason Poirot II

--------------------

Logan refreshed SFGate.com for the thirteenth time that day and was finally rewarded for his tenacity; the post was less than five minutes old. He read it twice, rage simmering in his chest and a smile on his face. "Detective Mason," he said to his empty apartment, "a worthy adversary indeed. The game is on."

[passionatefanfictionbka]

Chrianna Interlude: Trending

“Robs, come on. What is taking so long?” Noella exclaimed.

“I’m coming. Relax!”

  Rihanna scoffed as she turned to her laptop, “Babe, they in here trippin’”

Chris chuckled, “where y’all going, the parade isn’t until tomorrow right?”

“They wanna go shopping for some other stuff. I don’t even know why they rushing, it ain’t like the damn store is gonna close in ten minutes.”

Chris laughed, “you so rude.”

Rihanna shrugged her shoulders as she pulled a fitted over her blue hair. Chris squinted hard, “Baby Girl?”

“Yes?”

“Is that my hat?”

Rihanna took the hat off and stared at it for a few moments before placing it back on her head, “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Robyn, look at me.”

Rihanna looked at the screen as she bit down on her lip, “huh?’

“Robyn Rihanna Brown, is that my hat?”

“Babe….”

“No. No. No. Why you keep doing this to me?”

“What?”

“Stealing all my shit. Every time I see you, you got something else of mine on. I’m surprised you haven’t stole my boxers.”

“Well...I wouldn’t exactly say-”

“Robyn….come on Baby Girl.”

“Chris, you got a million of these. It’s not like you’re gonna miss it.”

“That’s not the point.”

“So what is the point?”

“Stop stealing all my shit. It’d be different if you actually brought it back to my house.”

“Well if I do that then I can’t wear it again. Duh.”

“You know what? I can’t with you.”

Rihanna giggled, “besides it serves you right for being mean to me.”

“How was I mean to you?”

“You didn’t come to Barbados with me.”

“Baby Girl, you know why I didn’t.”

“Uh no I don’t.”

“Robyn, yes you do and we are not doing this.”

She stuck her tongue out at Chris and turned to face her vanity mirror, “ you always wanna be so serious, Christopher. Besides, as much as I think your reason for not coming is stupid, I respect it because I know where it’s coming from.”

“Why does it have to be stupid?”

“Because I don’t like it therefore it’s stupid.”

“Baby Girl what?”

“You heard what I said.”

“But if you were to give the same reason and I called it stupid, you’d call me an asshole.”

“No. A spoiled brat maybe but not an asshole.”

“So does that mean I can call you a spoiled brat?”

“I never said I wasn’t one. Doesn’t make your reason any less stupid.”

“I’m gonna pull a Rihanna and hang up on you, seriously.”

“You could but you won’t.”

“And why is that?”

“Then you won’t get a peek at my Grand Kadooment outfit.”

“The outfit you sent me a thousand fabric and stone choices to look at?”

“Yup”

“You think that’s enough for me not to hang up?”

“If you knew what it looked like, it’d be more than enough.”

Chris scoffed, “I’ll take my chances. I love you and be safe.”

“Chris, I’m serious. I’ma block you and everything.”

“No you won’t.”

“Ok, I won’t but still don’t hang up.”

“Baby Girl, I wanna take a nap and I’m tired of you calling my reasoning stupid.”

“But it is,” she whined.

 *Beep Beep*

 “This muthafucka really hung up on me,” she said to herself in disbelief.

Yellow Nigga: So…. you just gonna go outside like that without me?

Baby Girl: Yup. Should've been there 😜

Yellow Nigga: Don’t play with me, Robyn

Baby Girl: I’m not. I invited you but you decided not to come. Would’ve been worth your while as you can see

 Rihanna closed out her messaging app just as her phone started ringing with a FaceTime request. He was so predictable. She brushed some hair out of her eyes and slid over the answer bar, “Yes Christopher?”

‘Why you play so much?”

“What did I do?”

‘You know what you did.”

“Chris, I invited you to Crop Over. You didn’t think it was a good idea, I wasn’t about to force you.”

“But you knew you were wearing that.”

“So did you. You helped me pick it out.”

“All I saw were the fabrics and the stones and you know it.”

Rihanna laughed, “You mad?”

“No. Jealous a little but not mad.”

“What you jealous for? It’s yours.”

“But I didn’t get to see it firsthand.”

“Maybe next time you’ll come somewhere when I invite you.”

“All that attitude, you must want me to fly down there and correct it.”

“I don’t have an attitude. Just stating a fact. So what you doing?”

“About to have your notifications blowing up.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re about to see.”

“Chris, I swear to God, you better not do something ignorant.”

“It’s not ignorant. You just about to have a comment section full of novels.”

“Babe….”

“What? I swear it’s not a big deal at least not to us.”

“Is it nasty?”

“Nope. I’ll save that for our text messages.”

Rihanna laughed, “so what are you about to do?”

“Comment on your picture.”

“Seriously? That is not gonna do anything.”

“Wanna bet?”

“How much?”

“200 and you gotta wear that outfit without the tights underneath when you get home.”

“Oooh you real confident.”

“You taking the bet or what?”

“I’ll take it and if I’m right, you also gotta get me a new purse.”

“Ok. Bet.”

“Bet.”

Chris scrolled through his timeline and clicked comment under the full body photo of Rihanna’s Kadooment outfit. Placing nothing but the eye emoji, he pressed send and left her page. A couple of minutes later, his phone rang and he slid over the answer bar. Two crisp hundred dollar bills were placed directly in the camera and he laughed, “Told you so.”

Rihanna groaned as her face filled his phone screen, “I really gotta give you this money?”

“Yup. Don’t worry, I’ll still buy you another purse. Just because I love you.”

“Babe, why are people like this?”

“Like you don’t know why.”

“Chris…but come on. Seriously, this is ridiculous.”

“Who you telling? I can’t do shit without people losing they damn minds and as funny as it is, it’s really pathetic.”

“I just- I really thought you were exaggerating. These muthafuckas are really writing paragraphs in my comments over a damn eye emoji.”

Chris laughed and shrugged his shoulders, “I’m used to it. They did the same thing when I told Mama Fenty Happy Birthday, like she ain’t my second mama. If you think your comments are bad, imagine all those blogs that were lurking as soon as I posted.”

“Ch...I ain’t bothering with their bullshit. Like I really wanna turn my comments off but that’ll just make it worse.”

“Yup. Damned if you, damned if you don’t.”

“Babe, this is crazy.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I know this has to be hard for you.”

“Hard for me? Why? I’m with you, this shit doesn’t phase me. It’s harder for them than it is for me. Hell they the ones carrying around all that anger and gotta sit at home banging on their keyboards complaining about something that’s completely out of their control. I laugh at it, it doesn’t do shit to me. “

“I guess you’re right.”

“Robyn, I know you worry about me especially when people bring up old shit every time I fucking breathe but I’m fine. What do I always tell you?”

“That you can handle it.”

“Exactly so let me handle it, Baby Girl. I got this. I’m good.”

“Ok. I guess.”

  They fell silent for a few moments before Chris burst out laughing, “Baby Girl, check your texts. I just sent a screenshot. This shit is wild.”

Rihanna furrowed her brow as she went to her text messages, “Baby, you have got to be kidding me.”

“I told you, this shit bothers them way more than bothers me.”

“Baby, this is beyond bothered. Sometimes I think I need new fans seriously because this is ridiculous.”

Chris chuckled, “Baby Girl, they aren’t worth the headache or the energy to be honest. What you up to later?”

“Family shit.”

“When you coming home?”

“Probably in a few days. Not sure. I know you wanna change the subject but this is still blowing my mind.”

“Want me to give you something else to focus on?”

“Depends. Does it involve a dick pic?”

“Do you want it to?”

“I’d prefer to see it in person but I can make due with a picture.”

“You know you nasty right?”

“You asked. I’m horny and slightly drunk. You should’ve know better.”

Chris laughed, “All jokes aside, you looked beautiful and I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did. Next time, I really want you to come though.”

“You know I don’t like making promises so I will try and come next time. Good enough?”

“Are you gonna give me another answer?”

“Probably not.”

Rihanna pouted, “I guess it’ll have to do.”

“You know I love you right?”

“Yea.”

“Baby Girl, don’t look so sad. You making me feel bad.”

“I’m not trying to, it’s just- you know.”

“What’ll make you feel better right now?”

“Can you sing to me?”

“What you wanna hear?”

“I’m scared to say this but you pick.”

Chris laughed, “why you scared?”

“Because you be coming out of left field with stuff sometimes.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I’ll keep it clean.”

Rihanna giggled, “don’t be mad if I fall asleep though.”

“My voice is soothing, I know.”

“Uh...more like I’m drunk so…”

“Now I’m not singing for you.”

“No. Wait, I was just playing.”

Chris chuckled, “relax, I was joking. You good?”

“I’m great.”

“You love me?”

“With all my heart. Now sing me to sleep please.”

Chris smiled, “this normally goes better when you’re physically here.”

“That’s just because you like touching me.”

“True.”

Rihanna giggled, “Babe…”

“Ok, ok.”