#and then they get a cryptic letter from the killer giving clues that two people kurt cares about have been kidnapped

[blurglesmurfklaine]

I AM ONCE AGAIN THINKING ABUT SERIAL KILLER AU AHHHH

[artificial-ascension]

Beyond Birthday HCs Concerning Murder

(This contains... violence...)

B was a really calm and shy kid who couldn't hurt a fly when he was little

Everyone thought A would be the serial killer but well... we know that didn't happen

B changed suddenly when he was a teen

He got more aggressive and assertive even though he didn't want to be

He just had weird impulses

Eventually his tendencies grew so much that he killed a man after they got in an argument on the street

A helped him bury the body and comforted him afterwards

B got really good at controlling his impulses and regulating his behavior thanks to A

But after A was gone, B left to LA and killed another person

B managed to fall in with a group of killers operating a bar and working together to not get got while continuing their killing

Due to their protection B felt much more stable and allowed himself to fulfill his violent impulses more often

B developed a lot more violent tendencies and impulses but decided that he would indulge in everything except rape, child and animal abuse

Everything else was fair game for him to realise his urges

B's favorite method of killing was visection (dissection of a still living organism) He'd immobilize his victims either with drugs or by targeting pressure points

He never resorted to hurting them before he cut them up

He'd strap his victims to an operating table, either in abandoned hospitals, warehouses or in the basement of the bar

Then knock them out or pump them full of pain meds though he'd sometimes gag them and keep them fully conscious

Afterwards he'd cut them up and do all sorts of fucked up experiments with them

B had extensive medical knowledge and training from Wammys House after training to incorporate forensic pathology in his skill set

He also used his detective knowledge to evade investigations and lead the cops on

Oh and he'd made sure start his own serial killer investigation to get L's attention before he came up with the LABB murder case

He tried to emulate the Zodiac Killer mixed with Jack The Ripper with his own little twist

He always left a typed out medical description of the experiment he conducted, how he conducted it, his results and a comprehensive file on his 'subject'

He also left his own logo saying not to show it to the public as to prevent copycat killers and signed his files with 'Dr. Crimson' giving himself the name 'The Crimson Killer' or 'The Crimson Surgeon'

There was a lot of debate about what to call him because 'The Crimson Surgeon' described him pretty well but 'The Crimson Killer' was alliterative amd B only killed people with alliterative names

B had specifically targetted people whose names were alliterative spelled and pronounced (someone named Chandler Collins would be fine because their name wasn't pronounced CC and) and he also avoided As, Bs and any other letter associated with high ranked Wammys Kids EXCEPT for Ls

He killed a lot of Ls

He also lefg no clues, at all

No fingers prints, no hair, nothing

He kept his work space incredibly clean to keep his doctor aesthetic

No one saw him except for one single time and he was described as "a dark haired individual standing at around 5'10 (all though estimated to be taller as the individual was hunched over) with all dark clothing and red, glowing eyes"

The main suspect was another serial killer (all though his case was still unsolved and je was just a suspect) in the area because he was 5'10, wore all black, had black hair and was known to dye his bangs bright orange but he was later freed of suspicion when a body turned up at a time when he was known to be attending class

B had tried to make his case insanely hard on purpose to try and lure out L but that never happened

B had made sure that he'd kept his major experiments a secret and only tested similar ideas on his public victims as to throw the police off as to what he was actually planning

After L never showed interest in the case B came up with a new way to get L's attention: The Los Angels BB Murder Case

B did some final experiments and then left a letter at his final crime scene saying he had finished all his work and that he would no longer be killing, said that he had a fun time playing with the cops and told them he'd see them in Mu

B specified Mu because 1. He wanted to be cryptic and 2. His parents were in a shinigami cult and he was always told that people went to Mu when they died, thought nothing of it and wrote it down

In total, the Crimson Killings claimed 29 victims and B's more personal work claimed 13 victims, adding in his one kill in England, his kill when he first came to LA and the Los Angels BB Murder Cases, he killed 47 people

After B ended his case amd was never caught until he was interviewed in prison where he was asked about the Crimson Killings and the entire interaction, word for word was:

Detective: "Do you know anything about the Crimson Killings, the public sees a slight link between your methods and the Crimson Surgeon?"

B: "[detective name], would you think that asking a cold blooded murderer such as myself on information about a case is considered loosing? I have some knowledge yes, but, I, personally, am here to win and if we can all agree that asking for the answer from a person such as myself is an act of giving up on your part then I'd gladly surrender information.

Detective: "I'd suppose it would be a form of giving up. The case needs to.be solved none the less, I don't care I'm admitting defeat by asking you."

B: "Wonderful! You're such a good sport, an honorable good sir you are. I'll tell you then, that I was responsible for the Crimson Killings. All 29 of them. I needed them to experiment, you see, I had far too many questions about the human body and needed to answer them all. I also killed 13 other victims for my experiments, but you'll never find those bodies. I also killed two more people before I became a serial killer, but I can't remember them or what I did with them."

B got to work for L but olny after he learned that L didn't take up The Crimson Case because he thought it was too hard, but L never admitted it to B, and it was actually Watari who told B about L's fear of the case

B was ecstatic over the fact that he'd actually beat L and worked for him as a forensic pathologist when ever L wanted

B also gave L some companionship and hing out with him after he'd recovered, mentally and physically

When B died, he'd actually been completely reformed but still living in prison because he liked it there

[vergilthelibrarian]

Curiosity.

Part 2 to In Due Time

Serial Killer/Yandere!Jeno x FTM!Reader X Mark

Bitches be bored because of the quarantine. I’m bitches

Mark, my love, I am so sorry

Mark sighed as he hung up his phone.

Once again, you didn’t answer his call.

One day you just told him that you were cutting ties with him only to simply vanish.

He asked your family what was going on but they said you did the same thing.

It didn’t shock him that you would cut ties with your family though as some of the members in your family wasn’t accepting of you being trans but what shocked him was how you up and disappeared.

Mark checked with your job and your boss said you had quit on Tuesday, the day before you vanished.

He was concerned.

Very concerned.

Mostly because he remembers you talking about how your boyfriend Jeno was acting strange as of late. You said he was snappy and stressed, even angrily breaking a plate when you two got into an argument.

Mark had a feeling that Jeno was behind this but he didn’t know how to go about it.

He would tell the police his concerns but the cops here were practically useless in domestic violence cases, always blaming the victim about why they got their partner so angry.

Mark lean back into his bed. He wouldn’t lie, he thought Jeno was a good guy.

He seemed to really care about you, to genuinely be in love with you but the fact that you two were arguing before your disappearance made him believe there was something more going on, something sinister.

What if you were dead? Mark wouldn’t be able to handle of you being gone forever like that.

Putting his phone on his nightstand, he turned around in his bed, trying to fall asleep.

~~ Mark awoke to his alarm going off.

He stopped, got up from his bed and started to get ready for the day.

You were still on his mind.

Where were you?

You wouldn’t just leave like this.

Mark threw some clothes on, fixed his hair and left off to work.

Once he was at his job, which was a music shop, he went to the back of the store in the employees room and conveniently the radio was on.

“In breaking news, the dismembered body of a 19 year old woman by the name of Sue Lim was found in a trash can this morning. Detectives say that this seems to be the work of the Hatchet Killer. If you have any information on this case, contact your local police.” Mark gulped.

He thought the killings were over but apparently it wasn’t.

He knew Sue a bit. She would come over to the music shop to hangout with her friends. It was always heartbreaking when someone was a victim of a murder.

Mark prayed that her soul was a peace and that this killer would be stopped.

As much of a man of faith he was, he couldn’t help but wonder why God just let things like this happen. Why he’d let some people die in gruesome and horrid ways.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he took a deep breathe and left the back room, standing behind the register to start his day

~~ When it was his time to go, Mark left, saying goodbye to his coworkers.

As he was walking home, he stopped in place as his phone ranged.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he saw that the number was unknown.

He answered it.

“Hello?” “Mark! It’s so nice to hear your voice.” and his breathe hitched.

It was you.

“Y/n? Where are you?” he asked, his heart beating fast.

“I can’t tell you. Just don’t look for me okay. It’s for your safety.” Mark frowned.

“What do you mean? What’s going on? Is Jeno behind this?” he had so many questions.

“Mark, I know how you are. Just don’t look for me okay. Pretend that I never existed. Goodbye.” the call ended and Mark stood in frozen in place.

He couldn’t just not figure out what the hell your phone call was about now.

Now he felt he needed to find you.

~~ Mark took a week off of work, telling his boss a family emergency came up.

He was going to start his investigation now.

Sitting at his desk, he was on his computer, searching through your social media for anything cryptic. Anything that would give him a clue as to where you were.

He found a post on your blog that talked about how Jeno had found a house in the country side about 2 months before your disappearance. He thought that this could be a clue and decided he would go to the country side to look for you.

He had a week to find you but he started thinking more.

What would happen if he does find you? What if Jeno was there? Would he even be able to fight the guy? Jeno was a boxer and Mark couldn’t fight at all, so if he were to find you out there in the country side, how would he even save you?

Mark shook his head and decided that tomorrow he would rent a car and go to the country side to find you.

Before he went to sleep though, he wrote a letter explaining what he did and why just in case anything happened to him.

He didn’t know what he was getting himself into so he had no idea what would happen to him.

All he knew was that you were in danger and he wouldn’t to do something to try and help you.

He was in love with you after all.

~~ Mark made sure to take some of the pictures he had of you with him and as he drove, he thought of you.

You occupied his thoughts 24/7 since you left and all of it was filled with horrible scenarios of you being dead.

You were in trouble and he knew that Jeno was the reason, that was easy enough to figure out. But what he couldn’t figure out was just where you were.

Yes he was going to the country side to search for you but what if you weren’t even there and this was just some wild goose chase? His grip tightening the stirring wheel, Mark let out a sigh.

He just needed to have faith.

Seeing a farmers market, Mark drove into the dirt parking lot and parked the car.

He grabbed the pictures of you and left the car, making sure it was locked.

He went inside the farmers market, thanking God for the cool air and started asking the workers if they saw you, showing a picture of you.

The butcher was the only one who remembered seeing you with a muscular brunette the other day, commenting on how sad and docile you appeared.

“Do you have any idea of where they live?” “No. But if you don’t mind me asking, why are you looking for him?” “I can’t say much but he just means a lot to me.” was Mark’s answer. He didn’t want to out right say it was because you were missing and your boyfriend was acting strange.

“Well, if you need any help with your search, I can always help.” the butcher smiled and Mark smiled back.

Walking out of the farmers market and back to his car. He sat in the car with his door wide open, staring out into an open field.

So you were here…

Scratching his head, he jumped slightly when an old woman called out to him.

“Are you okay?” the woman asked and Mark nodded his head.

“Yes, I’m fine.” he answered and then a thought popped into his mind.

“Um, excuse me!” he said, getting up from the car. “I was wondering, have you seen this person?” he asked, quickly taking out a photo of you and showing it to the old woman.

The woman’s eyes sparkled as she nodded her head, “Yes, I have. That’s Jeno’s sweet little husband.” she smiled and Mark eyes widen.

“Do you know where they live?” “Of course, they’re my neighbors! They live at 235 Houston Road. It’s a big blue house, you can’t miss it!” and with that Mark thanked the old woman and ran off to his car.

Driving away he made it Houston Road and saw a big blue house.

Before he was going to enter the house, he decided to text his friends and family, telling them he loved them and will always watch over them.

He felt a dreadful feeling staring at the house and as he got out of the car and headed towards it, the feeling became bigger.

Once he was in front of the door, he knocked 3 times and ranged the doorbell once.

To his surprise the door opened and you were the one who answered it.

“Mark?” “Y/n! Oh my god!” he said, grabbing into a hug and hugging you tightly. You hugged him back, missing his warmth and presence. You pulled away eventually and closed the door shut behind you.

“Mark, what are you doing here? How did you find me?” and Mark explained everything and you couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes.

“Mark you have to go or he’ll hurt you.” “You’re talking about Jeno aren’t you? Come with me. I’ll protect you Y/n, I promise, just come back with me.” and you shook your head.

“I can’t, for yours everyone else’s safety I can’t leave. Mark, go back home before he comes back!” you pleaded with your best friend.

Before Mark could say anything, a car drove into the driveway and you felt your stomach drop.

Jeno was back home and you could see he was visibly pissed.

You pushed Mark, trying to get him to leave.

“Mark leave! Leave right now!” but Mark didn’t budge.

“Mark please! I don’t want you to die!”

Everything happened so fast.

One minute Mark was standing next you and the next minute he was tied up in a chair in the basement of the house and you were chained up to the wall where you were usually kept at for punishments.

Jeno cracked his neck and rolled back his shoulders.

He was feeling wonderful today but then Mark just had to ruin his day by trying to be your savior.

What did he think he was going to do? Rescue you? You didn’t need to be saved.

You were perfectly fine with him.

“Oh Mark,” he started. “You’re too smart for your own good. You know, I was gonna let you live but now… now I have to kill you.” Mark’s jaw clenched.

Jeno looked back at you, noticing how your head hung.

“Don’t be sad love. He had this coming. As they say, curiosity killed the cat but… satisfaction brings it back so maybe he’ll be satisfied knowing our little secret.” Jeno smirked. He walked closer to Mark, and leaned down, his lips skimming his ear. “I’m the Hatchet Killer.” he whispered and Mark gasped.

“N-no. You can’t be.”

“But I am and you Mark will be my first male victim.” Jeno laughed. Stopping, he leaned down once again, his face close to Mark’s as he said, “I am going to enjoy breaking you.”

[ryouverua]

A Certain Lab, Reprised

lab get lab get lab get lab get LAB GET

Everything around us is either exploding or on fire so Sweetcheeks and I are going to retreat to our space safe, investigating

am I talking about the school exploding or tumblr

we just don’t know

Speak of the devil!

“I AM HERE!!!”

“K1-B0 THeRE WAS AN OPEN WINDOW OH MY GOD, THERE’S GLASS EVERYWHERE, OH NO -”

“OH YEAH!”

Didn’t really wait at all tbh 8′D

Actually all jokes aside Sweetcheeks is right, it was hella cool - and also thank god he was in the hallway and far away from the window! K1-b0 keeps asking if Shuichi is okay but is being incredibly reckless at the same time - what if Shuichi had been showered with that glass? He wouldn’t come out of that unscathed. Was that just K1-b0 taking more of his uncorked anger out on the school?

... Hm, though I guess calling it ‘anger’ isn’t quite right. Or, at least, K1-b0’s fluctuating between ‘anger’ and sort of... more... ‘grim determination’.

Yeah, he didn’t even flinch at being complimented. He’s got serious tunnel vision right now.

Damn.

LMAO SHUICHI’S SCREEN -

There’s only one other place I can think of that qualifies...

DON’T YOU DARE SHUICHI WE FINALLY GOT HERE AND I HAVE QUESTIONS

Oh thank god I want to satisfy my curiosity about the library as much as you do but RANTARO’S TALENT FIRST

Again - damn, K1-b0.

Whoa -

..... This has a very YGO Season 0 vibe. Sorry, that’s a weird comment. Maybe the better way to describe it is that the words ‘punishment game’ immediately come to mind? Some sorta wheel/puzzle thing in the back, cards hanging from the ceiling, some sort of... table...? Kinda reminds me of a poker table, though there’s no center to it... Maybe he... really did specialize in death games...?

Actually, if Celeste had an Ultimate Lab, I feel like it would have a similar aesthetic ~

IT’S HIS SOUL ROOM WE’RE IN RANTARO’S SOUL ROOM

“Yeah so I never shared with you all, but part of the Ultimate Detective status includes the ability to shoot spirit energy from your finger like a gun -”

I don’t think that’s completely wrong but I feel like the actual talent name is going to be x100 times more ominous. 8′D

MAN end-game Himiko is so different than early-game Himiko! Nice to have you onboard - wait, I just realized we’ve got a magician sidekick helping us in an investigation. Is this the right time to make an Ace Attorney reference, or -

Okay, huh. There’s actually way less to click on than I thought there would be. WHAT IS WITH THE MOST CRYPTIC PEOPLE HAVING THE LEAST INTERACTIVE ROOMS, COME ON DRV3 -

Okay, that laptop first:

Empty laptop.... okay, let’s set that aside for now.

Here’s the real question - what came first? The K1-b0 we knew for the first five chapters or this K1-b0? Which one should we consider to be the ‘true’ K1-b0? I think the game is implying that this is the real K1-b0, and the one who we knew up until now was a ‘controlled’ version of him - but at the same time, if the antenna was built in with him, could it be considered part of the original design and therefore part-and-parcel of K1-b0?

omfg I just realized the implications of a white-haired boy hearing a voice (that he literally calls ‘voice’) in his head who may or may not be controlling him behind the scenes be still my heart you’re getting distracted

WHELP THERE’S REALLY ONLY ONE OTHER THING TO CLICK HERE SO -

Like a safe?

......... Omfg it says ‘B’ and ‘A’ on them and it has pictograms on them. Is... this going where I think this is going...

Okay Himiko is being our in-game tutorial and noting that the zodiac is on one side and astrological signs are on the other but honestly I’m fine to skip all past it tbh because there it is, there’s our fucking ‘horse a’ and ‘twin b’ is gemini, Kokichi himself was a gemini, this was where we were going with those hints??? Rantaro’s lab?! idk I just don’t find puzzles like this hard I kinda thrive off of symbolism and mythology in general 8′D

Wait.... doesn’t that mean Kokichi couldn’t have been the one to leave those messages behind?!

Okay this was pretty cute so I left this in ~ but straight up two minutes later it was just a string of KACHUNK KACHUNK KACHUNK until I got it open immediately -

.... the symbols are weirdly cute though, hehe ~

Don’t worry Sweetcheeks, the only life-threatening time-waster we’ll spend all of our time on is fluff text!

Aaaaaaand done. Thanks Kokichi!

MAN I LOVE THESE TWO SPRITES TOGETHER FOR SOME REASON

Ah, so they’re talking about the stone with ‘horse a’ written on it - which... does make me curious, honestly. I think the existence of this safe pretty much confirms that he didn’t write the original message... right?

When did the letters start appearing aside from ‘horse a’? Chapter 3? Was that around the time he concocted that particular plan, then?

H-Hey now, he’s also the reason we found the second clue. 8′D I mean, it wouldn’t have been terrible to go through 12 different combinations with ‘horse a’ determined, but it wouldn’t have been ideal.

i bet you can buy that, that is literally perfect DR merch

IT’S

THE VIDEO

THE VIDEO!!!!

yeah I’m totally going to pull up my old post to see what matches and what doesn’t

“Oh god I forgot how absolutely stunning he was.”

OH I thought that was an abstract red background, silly me - 8′D well, that was probably the point. It might give away the game if we saw something more concrete behind him way back in... what, Chapter 4?

Anyway, more importantly, Rantaro shouldn’t have had access to this place... except he clearly did. So... he... must have been here before. And he knew more about the killing game, or seemed to intuitively know more, than anyone else. He... must have done this before. Except he had made it all the way here last time??? So there is a loop of some sort? Though it can’t be an outright time loop because otherwise there would be no need to record a video (unless like I considered it’s a ‘simulated’ time loop, aka VR-style like last game)...

This makes me wonder how we saw the video the first time. Was it just another flashback/tease like the meteorites were, before we saw the flashback lights?

I mean, I guess it’s kinda hard for recording!Rantaro to prove, but we’ll have to take him at his word here I suppose. 8′D

OH

OKAY

WE’RE JUST GOING STRAIGHT INTO IT THEN

are you telling me you were the protagonist in the last killing game

DIDN’T YOU HAVE LIKE, TWO AHOGES TOO

Man, what an asshole move??? Like, okay, Monokuma’s creating the puzzle of the safe which would unlock this video. Fine. But almost half of the class would have to be dead in order for him to get to it! There’s no way for him to even start the puzzle at this point, because he wouldn’t know it existed! What a huge handicap!

......... Something.... he had.... since the beginning............. Hm. I’m drawing a blank. I don’t remember anything in particular that stands out....

My dead boy, that is an understatement.

AHAHAHA ABOUT THAT....

Now this makes me wonder if he is the only one repeating it or if anyone else is? Well, maybe the mastermind - but like, maybe everyone is repeating it, but only those who ‘won’ were able to have better memories, or were just able to retain the memories of the last game better than the others?

Or, hell, if I want to go along with my previous theory about downloading the memories of students, maybe... Rantaro can remember more about his real self? Or something? But everyone else can’t?

And if he’s really someone who won the previous one (along with one other person, I suppose), then he knows that for a fact.

???!?! Aaaah this part got cut off last time too - so it was actually cut off in the video, and not just in our flashback?!

“You’re also dead, which may make things a little bit more difficult, but I still believe in you!”

That at least I expected -

WHAT

OH GOD THERE ARE SO MANY LAYERS TO THIS

like the dramatic irony I’m sure the fandom has done to death, for example

What about the second person??? Is there a second Ultimate Survivor???? I guess there can’t be since everyone else knows their talents but -

wait, if you’re the Ultimate Survivor because you won a killing game, who were you in the last game????

Does this really give him an advantage though??? I guess the information would have been nice but I mean, it obviously didn’t do him much good because he got taken out so quickly!

Man this makes me wonder if Kokichi had any inkling of this...

jsyk since I have the screenshots side to side, his expression is different in this video compared to the last one

~ fun facts ~

Yeah, see, the ‘he wanted’ part is throwing me off. He participated, sure, and he didn’t say he wanted the original one, but he came back for round two and said he wanted it.... but why???? That implies there’s a purpose to it, and he was okay to gamble his own life - but also, as a person without his memories of this, he wanted to stop the game. If the chip he bet is his own life, the reward must be huge, right? He won these supposed perks for this game, but what did he win for his life outside the game? .... Assuming there is anything outside the game? Is there anything for him outside the game?

HIMIKO DON’T BE RUDE

Yeah, she didn’t know the identity of her target. 8′\ Also I’d be sad if it was Kaede in the end. Second also! I know that she ended up being the first chapter killer and I’m one of the people got taken by surprise by that, but we were in her head for that whole chapter! Her motive made sense - but for her to end up being the mastermind now? That wouldn’t make sense, based on what we know of her, memory shenanigans aside!

That would require the mastermind to have knowledge of Shuichi and Kaede’s plan then, right? So they would have had to draw Rantaro to the library somehow, so he would get caught in Kaede’s trap...

It... should be one of a kind, considering the circumstances...

Yeah I’m still wracking my brain and not coming up with anything there. Could it have to do with his necklace? It did make me think of that ‘soldier tag’ present, about remembering someone who they lost. That would be an incredibly appropriate, if not cruel, ‘survivor’s perk’ present for someone who survived a killing game.

Man are we going to get a new flashback for every place we investigate???

OH SHIT IT’S BACK

FLASHBACK LIGHT!!!

you can pry the flashback light animation from my cold dead hands

?!?!?!

Immediate thoughts - generic students. But, are they? Is there any chance that they look generic on the face of it, but are actually representative of people in the class? I don’t see anything that could be an immediate match (Korekiyo = masked guy, Kokichi = small guy with similarly shaped hair/short stature/face, Kaito = tall guy, maybe), and they seem to have different VAs - hell, is that Jounouchi (or for the proper DR character, Munakata)’s seiyuu?

...... or the guy with the sick mask could just be sick lmao

Ah, so this is from when the virus began to ravage the population...

That seems like an understatement 8′D But at least we know for sure when in the timeline this takes place! Shuichi doesn’t seem to know they’re going to be the only survivors yet, but they’ve already been presumably screened for the Gopher Project which means it is well under way.

Calm down Sigma Klim -

Shuichi hasn’t told them he swings both ways, huh.

OH GOD RIGHT IN THE KAITO

DO YOU GET IT YET SHUICHI, YOU ARE THEIR HOPE

Don’t mind me, just wanted to make sure Shuichi didn’t miss the cryptic message left for him in these memories -

Not only that, but these aren’t memories meant to act as a reward for completing a stage like the other ones or even one they found - this was literally forced on them. It’s supposed to be Monokuma’s weapon against them. So... similar to the motive from the last trial, it’s trying to make them take action...?

And it’s clearly working!

... Maybe it isn’t the necklace then. I mean, he was wearing it when he died right??? And his body is gone...

Oh man unless just like everyone else there were copies of it along with the rest of it in his room - except there are 15, one for all the participants for the last game or something -

It might be 50/50 right now??? There’s something screwy going on, I just don’t know what.

[stargleeksil-blog]

Criminal Minds s01e22 The Fisher King Part 1 season 1 finale review

Episode 22 – The Fisher King Part 1

Okay, so we’re at the finale of season 1! Wow, that was quick! (At least for me) And I can honestly say I am beyond pumped for the next 11. I have no idea what Fisher King means except for the pretty bird that is named that, but I really have no fucking clue what goes on here.

Let’s see what happens.

Ok, that house is creepy. Just saying.

A mangled male hand running over a sleeping girl’s body, not creepy at all … I think … I mean, why can’t they show us who it is?

Frack, he has a knife.

Why did they cut automatically to the BAU? That is some serious teasing.

Morgan is taking Elle to a resort? No! He should be taking Penelope! No! someone boink this guy over the head.

“Trust me when I tell you it is off the hook. Hot sunny days, cool breezes at night, never-ending tropical drinks with the little umbrellas, and nothing but young, beautiful adults looking to make vacation memories.” Ooh, he should run ads for resorts, cuz mama I am hooked!

Why are you calling him pretty boy? I mean, he is pretty, but why are you teasing Spencer like that baby? Not nice.

Wow. Reid was oddly cryptic about going home. Is something not right? I’m intrigued.

Yay! Aaron is going home, and he is happy about chores? Oh no.

Hahahahahahaha oh my god Gideon just made my entire day and I’m only 02:02 minutes into the show. He’s going to an abandoned cabin in the woods and wants them to not call him. And he’s serious about! He said it twice!

Wow. I love the carvings! Both metal and wood are so elaborate, I’m so impressed.

Okay, now we’re going into medieval paintings that literally freak me out. What?

And why does that freak have pictures of my superheroes?

Why is he whispering? He freaks me out. Ugh.

Oh my god, why is he tying that girl to the bed? Ugh.

Whoa. She just had a major freakout.

Oh my god this is gonna be epic!!!!! And possibly the longest review of the season, guys. Beware.

And Kirsten still isn’t a regular? What the fuck is wrong with these people?

Elbert Hubbard: “No man needs a vacation so much as the man who has just had one.” WORD!!! I had a few days off during Rosh Hashana and when I came back to work I was so disoriented I was like, dude, I need a vacation.

And oh my god, the resort Derek told Elle about is in Jamaica? Wow. He has some good friends, man.

God that water is gorgeous. No wonder the Caribbean is such a touristy spot. I mean, I prefer dirty cities with winds and snows and rain, but I get it.

And oh my god, those are some fresh young hotties. I’m talking of course about Elle and Derek in bathing suits. Holy shit. That is the hottest sight ever.

I’m usually not one for tattoos, but oh my god Shemar’s body is a monument of hotness. Fuck. I want to lick those abs so much.

Wait. Hold the presses. And I can’t believe I’m saying this because I am currently watching scenes of Shemar shirtless and I am the last woman to ever complain about that, but is Jane fucking Lynch in this episode? As what exactly? Yay!!! I’m happy.

Now let’s go back to drooling over Shemar’s flawless delicious succulent chocolate planes.

Lord, Shemar flirting is just illegal. Fuck. Oh my goodness.

Holy shit! I love that guy!!!!! The guy flirting with Elle, oh my god I know him, I have no fucking idea what his name is, but he is one hot specimen, and I love this episode so much for giving me so much eye candy. Yay!

Aw, homey Aaron! So cute! Oh my god, Aaron was pirate number four in Pirates of Penzance hahaha I’m loving this so much.

Wait. Gideon can cook? Oh my god, that is so amazing! He’s making something very fancy, he’s making fucking garlic bread and he has a wine bottle ready to be popped. I want to marry you, Gideon. But obviously you have a lady friend coming over, for whom you are so diligently preparing this delicious meal, so I’ll let you get back to it.

Aww!!!! How does Penelope Garcia spend her weekend off? Gaming! Oh my god, this episode just turned into one of my favorites, holy shit.

“Why can’t guys in the real world be like that?” I agree, Penelope.

“He is not fictional. He is the online alter ego of a real person.” I love you, peaches.

“Look, we meet online at specified times that he is never late to. We spend hours adventuring and chatting during which time I have his undivided attention and he lavishes me with flattery. When’s the last time you had a date go that well?” “See if he’s got a fictional brother, all right?” oh JJ, you are precious.

Wait. No way! Jane Lynch is Spencer’s mom who is locked up in a nuthouse in Nevada? Oh my poor pretty boy, I love you so much.

So she’s very well-educated, yet schizophrenic, and Spencer sends her daily handwritten letters? Oh my god, I just fell in love with his character all over again.

Whoa, she’s a professor for fifteenth century literature? Oh my god, her character is so amazing. I love literature from that era and I just can’t believe how amazing this show is.

So he came all the way and can’t face her? Oh baby.

Oh hot damn, that dancing scene is hot hot hot! Elle looks so happy! I love her! Oh shit, Derek sweaty and dancing is too hot.

Oh shit. I’m getting so turned on here hahaha

Aww Aaron and Hayley met when he stumbled into the theatre department and joined the theatre group just to be with her! Oh my god he is the most romantic guy ever and I love him!

Aww it’s so nice to see Gideon so in love! It’s just such a contrast and I love it.

Okay, I never thought I’d see post-coital Hotchner and it is doing things to me. Seriously.

And who the fuck calls in the middle of the night?

First victims? It’s the whisperer from the beginning ugh.

The youngest holds the key? You must help him save her? What the fuck?

Why is the resort manager getting an anonymous call in the middle of the night that requires him to call the cops? I’m so confused here. Oh they reported a murder in a room? Oh damn.

Wait. Someone hacked into Penelope’s laptop? That doesn’t seem right. What the fuck? What does “All Work No Play” mean here?

Game over? What? Oh hell now!

Someone hacked into the FBI tech analyst computers? Oh no.

Wait, they’re now haunting Gideon too? Oh goodness me.

Whoa, those are blood stains on the walls.

He’s been delivered a package? That’s seriously frightening.

“Save her.” Save who?

Oh shit! That’s a fucking head! That’s a fuckin human head! What the fuck?

Hey! Hey! Whoa!!!!! Why are they attacking Elle? And why are they arresting her? What the fuck is going on here?

I love you Elle! I love you so much! And you, Mr. Jamaica PD detective, are seriously not doing yourself any favors pissing off a woman you just dragged out of bed in the middle of the night.

“Where’s the victim’s head?” “Well, I must have dropped it on my way in here, come on!” haha I love you. “I’m here on vacation, man!”

What the fuck? It’s always the same phrase. What the fuck is going on here?

Frank Giles. Got it.

Oh hell, Derek breaking down doors, yummy.

Whoa, Penelope just went apeshit on the computer systems, I love you so much baby but tone it down, okay?

“You just wait till I’m through with you!” oh shit, I’ve never seen her mad.

Did she just tell Morgan no?

“The information super highway is closed.” Uh oh.

“Someone had the nerve to run a blackhat op into my computers, Morgan. They hacked me, ok? But you can bet your sweet ass I will find them. I’ve got honey pot farms hidden behind uml kernel data packets and a first generation honeynet I personally programmed. My snort logs list every visitor, every server request, every keystroke on this entire network. If I have to back-hack his IP all the way to the frickin’ stone age, I will find this son of a bitch, ok? So bye.” Oh my god, I love you Penelope, you are my goddess.

Oh my god Morgan’s confused face is everything.

So the head Gideon got belongs to the body that was found in Jamaica with Elle and Morgan? Damn.

Thank goodness Hotchner is here.

A dead butterfly? What?

So this guy is a complete psycho? Oh god.

Oh god, this is absolutely dreadful.

Oh honey, she used the wireless internet and he got into her laptop oh dear lord, the poor thing.

Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me. Is that a sword sticking out of ohis fucking chest? Shit. And that’s Frank Giles. Oh my goodness.

“Here thy quest doth truly begin” oh my god.

Shit.

“To learn of what should next be done, leave the blade ‘til the hour be none.” What the actual fuck?

Hey Reid! I love you, but you poor puppy.

“Reid, do not go away ever again.” I love you too, Elle.

Yup, this is totally Indiana Jones, except that you need to find the fucking killer not the fucking treasure. Unless those two aren’t mutually exclusive.

Ooh yeah, now Reid gets to use his key.

Oh kay? This is creepy. Why the fuck does he give them a music box as a clue.

“Never would it be night, but always clear day to any man’s sight.” What the fuck does that even mean?

What? A DVD with a girl’s lock of hair tied to it? God, this guy is sick to the bone.

Okay, so that guy creeps me out to no end. And the rules of the game are that they cannot use outside help beyond the original seven? Well, that is really helpful, dick.

What the fuck? He sent someone to Hotch’s place? And he could’ve hurt Hayley and Jack! What?!

What the fuck does that piece of paper mean? What, is it like the whole word-line-page numbers form a book? Oh lord. This is gonna be a heavy one.

Why did Gideon have JJ talk to the press if the guy clearly told them not to go to anyone? Oh boy. He’s playing with fire.

Oh my goodness, groggy Elle is the cutest thing ever! She’s so adorable!

Didn’t Hotch tell that agent to escort her home? Why is Elle alone there?

Oh shit! He’s in her house! Oh my god.

SERIOUSLY? They’re gonna stop the last episode of the fucking season on a cliff hanger where you see someone pointing a gun at Elle, the screen goes black and you hear a gunshot? YOU FUCKERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love you so much, but what the fuck are they doing to all of my feelings?????

I know I should be writing my opinions on the season, but I’m so caught up that, with your permission, I’m going to just put this here and hurry on to the first episode of season 2, ok? See ya.

[elfnerdherder]

Ill Intentions: Chapter 2

You can read Chapter 2 on Ao3 Here

Chapter 2: A Sordid Sort of Muse

           He really, really shouldn’t have picked it.

           In between the concern about the prostitutes being targeted and the police refusing to see it as more than normal criminal-on-criminal violence and the wonder at how a killer walked free due to the abuse of evidence, he put the enticing blurb in, although he refused to put the name on the end.

I adored your analysis of the Minnesota Shrike. How quickly you boxed him into a corner and revealed his hand! Surely the ladies on campus will sleep better knowing to avoid anyone that looks remotely like them with a father in tow. That, or perhaps you’ve inspired them all to dye their hair a poignant shade of blonde until the next killer comes along.

I wonder if your clever little mind would be able to catch someone like me, however; would you be interested in playing a game, Mr. Graham? I’ve grown bored as of late, and the city is not much to entertain these days.

           He thought it’d give a bit of a teaser to the readers, something that would give them enough to ask for clarification. He wanted interest, not panic. He also liked the exciting way that it made a small zing of pleasure curl down his spine. He hadn’t been excited about many things for a long, long time. His world since graduating from GWU left much to be desired, no matter how much he enjoyed writing. When he presented it to Charlie, the man grinned around his cigarette and nodded.

           “I like it.”

           He liked it, Beverly liked it, and when Will saw the ratings for his newly released column, ‘Will Intentions’, his eyebrows almost hit his hairline. Other people liked it, too.

           He grabbed one off of a newspaper stand, just because. A stupidly sentimental souvenir to celebrate his moving from wedding announcements, baby’s breath, and a back page with a 5.5 font.

Thank you for the congratulations, anon, although I’m not so much in the way of catching rather than analyzing. In reality, from the safety of a swivel chair I think anyone could try their hand at playing the sleuth, at observing unbiased evidence and coming to some sort of conclusion.

As to the mention of your game, I’m very poor at playing games; you can ask several of my associates who find me a bore at work functions, even the celebratory kind. If you give me something to analyze, though, I think I could be of service.

           He cut the column because of sentimental reasons that made him itch, and he pinned it to the corkboard alongside the letter with the gold star. Staring at it, a cup of water in hand, he supposed that he should be terrified at the prospect of the how of the star –he wasn’t. In truth, he hadn’t been afraid of much for a long, long time.

            His watch beeped much later in the day; time to eat lunch. He wondered, as he ate a hotdog of questionable origin, if he could find a program for the smart watch to remind him to feel things like fear in the face of a potential serial killer at large, egged on by his ability to accidentally lead the FBI to a cannibalistic father of one.

           There wasn’t any such program to remind him to feel things like that, but as it chimed to show him e-mails coming in with more letters from eager readers, he stupidly hoped the ‘Chesapeake Ripper’ would be one of them.

-

           “Will Intentions is a hit,” Freddie informed him at the water cooler.

           It wasn’t so much of a compliment as it was an observation. Will hit the small notification on the smart watch to assure it that he was drinking water. “I’m relieved.”

           “Did you think it wouldn’t be?” She flipped hair over her shoulder, a wild array of curls in so many hues he wondered just how an artist would describe it. How would a writer describe it? Scarlet, auburn, sunset russet? Ringlets, curls, waves, oceans of red surrounding a pinched, surly expression?

           “Sometimes the hype dies down after one intriguing iota of information.”

           “It helps that the next front page was me covering the Hobbs story,” she assured him.

           “A good read,” he admitted. It hurt in a pinching sort of way to say that, seeing as how Freddie Lounds was shit. He had to play nice, though. He was page three, and she was top-half news. Beverly called it office politics. He called it asinine.

           “I thought it’d be good, since they take their questions to you after they eat out of my palm,” she said, and she tossed her cup in the trash as they walked away. Will stopped at his desk, and she found her way to a cubicle right beside Charlie’s office. It was bigger, more spacious. If Will Intentions continued to impress, would he one day have a space like that? Maybe his watch could also remind him to care about that, too.

-

Dear Will,

            Loved the analysis on the Minnesota Shrike. My boyfriend’s been acting weird –is he a killer? He lies a lot, he’s gone for hours, won’t clean the house…

           Oh, god.

Dear Will,

            Why do you think a person with intrusive thoughts would kill? Is it a temporary delusion, or are some people just born wanting to kill people?

           Maybe.

Dear Will,

           Do you not wish for people to know who I am, therefore you refer to me as anon? Quaint.

           Bingo.

           I don’t mind as much as I should; in reality all of my work is only noticed by the name assigned to me by the press rather than my real name. Chesapeake Ripper. After the cleverness of the Minnesota Shrike’s name, I find myself mildly offended that I wasn’t given the same twist of words. What would you call me, I wonder?

           As for analysis, is that not the best sort of game? I give you clues, you try to find where the bodies are. Easy as pie, I’m told. If you’re quick enough, maybe you could save a few in the process.

           I read your wedding announcements and compared them to your analysis of Garrett Jacob Hobbs; truly you were put into a bad place, writing things about the way the vines curled over the trellis or the flowers braided into the hair of a blushing bride. It was lackluster, and you weren’t quite fulfilled in your work. No wonder you were almost fired.

           Your analysis though, that is where you truly shined. I could feel your intimate thoughts through the paper, the concern for those girls, the knowing that made you caution them. Something cryptic, something that made readers want more. You’d been drowning in chiffon and petticoats for so long, but you thrived on the idea of death. Are serial killers your muse, Will Graham? If so, I think you’re going to enjoy what’s next. I’ll give you a little warm-up.

           This thing all things devour:

           Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;

           Gnaws iron, bites steel;

           Grinds hard stones to meal;

           Slays kings, ruins town,

           And beats high mountains down.

                                                                                                           You have 3 days

                                                                                                           -Avid Fan

             “Fuck,” Will muttered, reading it. He was quite good at riddles, if he did say so himself. This though, with the threat of a life, he grabbed the letter –plain white copier paper with a fountain pen, if he wasn’t mistaken –and he marched to Charlie’s office, knocking with his fist rather than his knuckles. It smarted, made a rough, heavy thudding noise against the particle board.

           “I’m up to my ass in phone calls; what,” he demanded irritably. Will hesitated by the door, glanced to Freddie sitting in a chair with legs daintily crossed, then back to his boss.

           “You liked the anon wanting to play games, right?” he asked.

           “Yeah?” Charlie gave him a look that said quite clearly, you’d better not have fucking knocked on my door for that sort of validation.

           “He replied.”

           Will passed him the letter, and after Charlie read it, he passed it to Freddie. There was a curt exchanging of looks with varied expressions, from grim to confused, followed by a silence that felt oddly stretched.

           “I think we need to go to the police about this,” he said slowly.

           “It’s just a crazy,” Freddie said. She didn’t sound so convinced.

           “If so, it’s a good rendition of crazy. What kind of riddle is that?” Charlie leaned back in his chair, lit a cigarette. Will’s fingers twitched with the urge to pat down his jacket for his own.

           “It’s from The Hobbit,” he said. After glances of mild amusement, he added, “We read it in high school.”

           “So what’s the answer?” Freddie asked, lips curling into a Cheshire grin.

           “Time.” A beat. “I think he’s saying where I’ll find the body…if I’m fast, maybe they’ll be alive.”

           “You think this is a real killer, kid?” Charlie asked skeptically.

           “I think it sounds serious enough to give it some attention. We should…maybe call the police.”

           “The police will take it and get in our hair,” Freddie protested. “If it’s true, we won’t get the first scoop since they’ll take it out from under us!”

           “Someone could be in danger,” said Will.

           “You don’t sound so scared, though,” Charlie replied.

           “No police,” Freddie urged. She sat forward, pinning Charlie with a look that said she had a marvelous idea. “Charlie, we’ve got this. Hobbs is dead, we need a good top half for next week, right? We send Will out, he maybe saves the day, we get front page news: Will Intentions saves the life of X by figuring out the riddle of a killer.”

           “Then the police come in and ask how we knew about a potential murder and said nothing,” Will pointed out.

           “We don’t know if it’s real until we look into it,” Freddie retorted. “That’s called investigative journalism, Willy.”

           Will hated being called Willy. His watch beeped to tell him he hadn’t taken many steps that day.

           Charlie considered the two of them, cigarette spewing smoke that floated just over his head like a dank, murderous fog. He rolled it around his lips, thought, then nodded, leaning forward. “Here’s what we’ll do: Will, look into it. You’ve got three days, then we see what happens. If you save the day, we have front page news, too. You don’t, we go to the cops, still get front page news since we found the body first.”

           Will wasn’t so sure that was an ethically sound idea, but work was work. He thought of the taunt, the question about murder being his muse.

           “If you can’t, I’ll do it for you?” Freddie offered.

           “I’ll do it,” he replied, nearly bowling over her question. Fuck if he’d let Freddie Lounds steal from him.

           He looked up popular clocks in DC, focusing on the answer being time. The first was a clock at the naval base, but that was a no-go. Even if the person was there, he’d never be allowed in to look at it. The next was a new clock being built just across town, but with the construction Will wasn’t convinced that a serial killer would be able to get a body in there without being seen.

            By day three, he was just nervous enough to ask Beverly to hunt with him, google maps for places of interest his tool as they hiked all over DC. His watch beeped to congratulate him on the amount of steps he’d taken. A record-breaking step count, it said.

           “Did you check Georgetown?” Beverly asked.

           “What?” Will looked up from his phone. “Georgetown?”

           “They have that huge clock tower on campus,” she said. “The Healy Hall Clock Tower whose hands keep getting stolen; I did an article on it once.”

           He took an Uber since he didn’t feel like going back across town on foot, no matter what his watch said about steps.

           “What do you think you’re going to find?” she asked, following him on campus. Early fall played with the leaves overhead, threatening to dump them every which way. Between classes, gaits varying from harried to lax and meandering, students roamed the sidewalks and streets, their voices loud and coalescing. It reminded Will of his days at GWU, when everything seemed to feel so exciting, like he was on the edge of something great.

           Then he graduated and got to see just how monotonously boring life could really be.

           “I don’t know,” he admitted. “A prank, probably? It’s gotta be a prank.”

           He didn’t think it was, though. There was something about the detached, mocking tone that made him just nervous enough to care.

           “I could see Freddie doing it as some roundabout way of welcoming you off of back page,” Beverly said with a laugh. She skirted a biker whose speed was just fast enough to be dangerous and caught up with him. “I mean, they mentioned you almost getting fired. That’s some personal stuff.”

           “…Yeah,” Will grunted. When they reached the tower, he looked up at the clock face with its dark stone and golden bronze etching, his stance shifting from foot to foot as he considered it. “I think it’d be inside.”

           “How are you getting in there?” she asked. “They’re pretty strict since the hands keep getting stolen.”

           “Investigative journalism,” he muttered savagely.

           It wasn’t too difficult to get in there. When they climbed enough stairs and went through enough maintenance rooms, the door to the actual back of the clock face was unlocked. That in itself, for a clock face whose hands kept getting stolen, was enough to make Will a little nervous. His hands tingled as he opened the door and walked in, the room cool and dark. He blinked the shadows from his eyes, Beverly close behind him, and he used his phone to make a flashlight, looking around for some kind of switch.

           “Got it,” Beverly said, turning a light on.

           As his eyes adjusted, he stared up at the manmade chrysalis hanging overhead with a body inside, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he most certainly dropped his phone in shock.

           “Got it,” he repeated weakly.

           Thankfully, Beverly managed to snap a photo.

-

           The victim was Hannah Oberly, who’d been put into a diabetic coma and was on a rather fast track to death if Will hadn’t found her in time. As she lay dazed in her hospital bed, she admitted to Will, then to police officers that she honestly couldn’t remember what happened to her. One moment she was watching TV, the next she was waking up as Will administered the insulin that sat just at the bottom of her chrysalis, teasing in its closeness but inability to save her without the aid of another. She’d faded in and out of consciousness after, while he held her and waited for paramedics to rush her to the hospital. Her skin felt clammy, like the flesh of uncooked chicken left out on the counter for too long. He’d held it tight, marveling at the feel against his fingertips.

           How had he known the insulin would save her rather than kill her, police asked? Fuck if Will knew. He had a hunch.

           They took his prints in case his hunch was something more than just a hunch. His fingers still tingled from the feeling of her skin as she hovered between life and death.

           In the hospital hallway he paced, but it was with guilt that he realized it wasn’t fear for her life. Hannah Oberly was safe, and police were investigating. No, no, he was almost –almost –ashamed to admit that his pacing was from adrenaline, from a short burst of excitement that lingered long after paramedics whisked her away to administer intravenous fluids and balance the glucose in her system.

           He’d saved someone. The Chesapeake Ripper gave him a riddle, a timeline, and he’d saved someone.

           He supposed that said a lot about him, that he felt such eagerness in the face of someone else’s potential demise. Psychopathic tendencies? No, no, he very much felt her fear, palpable and thick on his tongue like he’d dragged it through butter. He felt bad for her. He couldn’t imagine himself doing that to someone, drugging them and wrapping them up in a grotesque display of paper mache in order to lead someone through DC on a manhunt to save their life.

           And yet, he could. He could very much imagine it.

           He comforted himself with the reality that that said far more about his mind than it did him. Will Graham was unique in a way that he didn’t much like sharing with anyone –their frailties, failings, and realities falling into the cracks of his mind and nestling in, making his thoughts worse off in the aftermath. He could imagine wrapping her tenderly into a pupa of his own making, much the same way he could imagine the tentative grasp on reality he’d have if he came to under the administration of a stranger dosing him with life-saving medicine.

           He called Freddie because he promised to keep her updated. Due to his position as her savior, Hannah was persuaded to share a few words with an eager Freddie Lounds before police came back into the room and kicked the two of them out.

-

           Charlie didn’t let him post the entire letter due to the nature of far too much information about his personal life and his work, but they did post the bits that would entice readers:

Analysis; is that not the best sort of game? I give you clues, you try to find where the bodies are. Easy as pie, I’m told. If you’re quick enough, maybe you could save a few lives in the process. I think you’re going to enjoy what’s next. I’ll give you a little warm-up.

This thing all things devour:

Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;

Gnaws iron, bites steel;

Grinds hard stones to meal;

Slays kings, ruins town,

And beats high mountains down.

You have 3 days -Avid Fan

           With Hannah Oberly safe and relatively sound in a hospital, Will was more than happy to post a reply.

Avid Fan,

The Hobbit? Hannah Oberly was found in the Healy Hall Clock Tower, time both her keeper and her enemy. I found the diabetic coma to be somewhat tasteless, but readers will be happy to know that she’s alive, well, and safe.

The police are investigating you, but I’m sure that’s exactly what you wanted. There’s something about the way you signed avid that tells me you’re aspiring for the sort of attention that will bring infamy, at the very least. The questions other readers send will be on how best to protect themselves against someone like you, and I look forward to giving my insight to keep the public safe.

           A little ham-handed and snarky, but Will thought utmost honest was best.

           The Chesapeake Ripper didn’t like him for his flowery descriptions of trellises, after all.

Dear Will, Why do you think a person with intrusive thoughts would kill? Is it a temporary delusion, or are some people just born wanting to kill people? -Cindy

           He thought that question was fitting to follow-up the Chesapeake Ripper’s.

Cindy,

To say that someone is born wanting to kill people would be to say that an infant with no life experience is born unlike anyone else. To be sure, children are victims of their upbringing, just as infants can be born addicted to meth, caffeine, or nicotine due to the foolishness of the one carrying them to term. What you refer to is something different, though, something that represents the way a person looks at the world.

Some people are born without empathy, without the ability to care for another person on a level that creates connections and healthy relationships. Does that make them criminal? No. It is not how they see the world that makes them criminal, but what they do in the face of such thoughts. That’s different from delusion –anyone can suffer delusions. Anyone can suffer from intrusive thoughts.

Most people suffering delusions on a psychotic scale generally only commit violence in moments of extreme duress, when they think it is the only option. On a psychopathic scale, it is a methodical act, a necessity to complete a fantasy that they have lived in their heads. That tends to stem not from some singular, one moment, but from repeated moments of abuse, neglect, or trauma. It grows, escalates. Serial killers are not called such because they only kill once and create their fantasy. They are called that because they have the impulse to recreate the fantasy over, and over, and over again, escalating it to relive the rush of emotion from that first intimate act.

Do I think some people are born ‘just wanting to kill people’? Not in the least. It is a learned thing, an environmental thing. I was born with an aversion to carrots, but I don’t kill carrot farmers.

           They made the font .3 smaller so that they could keep the carrot farmer crack. Will wondered what the Chesapeake Ripper would think about that.

[nemossubmarine]

DA RP Write-up #2

There’ll be a bit shorter intro this time, but I guess I should say a few words? This was the first game I ever ran, and though there was a ton of problems (namely that the plot was way too complex, and really, that’s still my problem a lot of time, looking at you KoNS), there was still a lot of hard work put into this one and some things that I really liked. For example I did short introductory pieces to new locations, just a hundred words or two of description. I really liked those, and I should get back to doing them. Anyway, I’ll try to pull the complex mess that was this plot together based on notes I have.

This campaign introduces several re-occurring NPCs (such as Arkaitz, Kempers and Lady Sibeal), and the first PC of the GM of the last campaign, Kuisma, who would be replaced by Humbert only two adventures later. There’s about 35 billion NPCs in this campaign, because I was hell-bent on filling up the entire city. At least I have all their names available. This adventure also introduces our most-used magical item ever: the Antivan eye color changer.

Adventure started early March(?) 2014 5 sessions 2144 words

It takes several weeks for Randy, Jelaina and Boshara to make their way to Denerim. When they finally get there, it’s already late evening, so their first order of business is to find some place to sleep at. They ask a city guard, a young man by the name of Fermin, to recommend a place. He recommends a place called the “Happy Wanderer” (Iloinen kulkija), which is where our party heads. It is owned by a delightful man named Oroitz and his husband Stanimir.

Before they can really settle in, Randy is approached by some dwarven fellows. He is taken to a cellar somewhere in the city, to meet up a deep dwarf lord named Trugva. While Trugva is certainly a surface dwarf, and no one in Orzammar would give him a second glance, he really believes himself to be in charge of all the Denerim’s dwarves, because he adheres to the Orzammar’s traditions. As the self-elected leader he wants to meet with every new dwarf in town. Well, our boy Randy is not the most pro-dwarf dwarf, but he manages to make a decent enough impression and is escorted back after a brief chat. On his way back to the Happy Wanderer, Randy could swear someone is watching him, but he sees no one, so thinks nothing more of it.

In the morning, after good night’s rest, our heroes go downstairs to eat breakfast and mingle with other patrons in the inn. First person they talk to is a woman named Kuisma, a drunken middle-aged human, who seems rather rowdy. She also recognizes Boshara, apparently her son, Lumme, was Boshara’s classmate, so now due to this surprising meet up, she’s rather curious to know what happened to Lumme. Boshara swears up and down she doesn’t know, but Kuisma still sticks around.

Another person our heroes make their acquitance with is an Antivan named Zorion, a rather fancily dressed city elf, fancy for a city elf at least. Must be an Antivan thing?

After breakfast, our heroes head to the market place where they spend the morning selling Jelaina’s wares. After that and lunch, it’s time for some other kind of business. Jelaina had a mentor of sorts, a friend of sorts, named Drustan who was murdered under suspicious circumstances. He left behind some instructions and an object (a messenger’s bottle?) which was the real reason Jelaina wanted to go to Denerim. Boshara and Randy of course want to help their friend.

The person who has information is Kistine, a blind girl who lives in a brothel. Our heroes find her, and in exchange for the messenger’s bottle, Kistine gives Jelaina a message written in some kind of code and a stamper. These give no clue to why Drustan was killed, so our heroes return to the inn.

Kuisma is there again, and she is troubled as well. She decides to share with our heroes her problem. She is in Denerim because some hooligans stole something from her. That something is an old doll that used to belong to her son, and she is rather keen on having it back. Our heroes say they’ll help if they can, and so Kuisma joins the party.

Zorion, the fancy Antivan elf, has a friend over, another fancy Antivan elf, a man named Arkaitz.  These two pique our heroes’ interest. Randy is especially keen on getting to know them, as he has a strange device given to him by an Antivan, which the two identify as a magical device that can change people’s eye colors. Fancy!

That’s enough excitement for the first day in Denerim, so our heroes go to bed.

Next morning, they head to a bookstore, because they believe there might be some clues there pertaining to Jelaina’s message. Unfortunately it seems that there has been a murder there; the bookstore’s keeper has been killed, her books destroyed and her son is missing, suspected of the crime. There’s nothing our heroes can do there, so they head off.

Luckily they manage to decipher who the cryptic letter is for and find her address. Lady Maired is a Fereldan noble woman living in a very nice estate at the edge of the city. She is courteous enough to receive them, and she indeed can read the letter. Apparently the letter informs who is the real killer of her wife, who died 20 years ago. This being a famous Crow killer, Voran. Drustan was supposed to deliver this message but for some reason, he had changed it to another. Lady Maired is quite distraught by the news. She asks for our heroes to help her find out more. They agree, because perhaps finding out more would reveal more about Drustan’s motives as well.

Boshara is super-excited to meet a real noble woman, as she has a real admiration for the nobility. She gets Lady Maired’s signature.

After visiting Maired, our heroes head to another noble woman’s house. Lady Sibeal supposedly knows a lot about Antivans, but she is more interested in talking about the romance books she writes. Boshara is super-happy about this meet-up too.

Slightly more knowledgeable our heroes return to the inn, where they visit Ropso first and then have a chat with a bard staying at the inn, a man named Kempers. Jelaina especially is curious about being a bard, as she has some musical aptitude. Maybe Kempers could teach her?

Our heroes notice Zorion going towards her room, and since there seems to be a lot of talk about Antivans lately, not to mention murders and Crows, our heroes deem it necessary to do a little spying. This, naturally, involves Randy and Boshara climbing to the roof. On the roof, Randy falls over and breaks his nose.

Boshara and Randy don’t see Zorion, so Randy takes some rope and tangles Boshara in front of her window, which is open by the way. Meanwhile Jelaina and especially Kuisma are getting quite impatient waiting, so Kuisma breaks the door, and storms the room.

There’s no Zorion in the room, but Arkaitz, the other Antivan elf, is there, bleeding profusely, his face decorated by several deep gashes. Boshara, who at this point knew how to heal still, gives some first aid. Arkaitz is grateful, but not grateful enough tor reveal how or where he got the wounds.

Last thing in the night, our heroes gather some rumors. Apparently Thomin, the missing book merchant’s son has been hanging out a lot with dwarves. Could they be involved in this whole mess?

In the morning Stanimir, the husband of the Inn’s owner Oroitz, mentions that there has been some restlessness with the dwarven population of Denerim, which may be troublesome. Just as mentioned, there’s in fact several dwarves in the square outside the inn having a bit of a tumble. Apparently the dwarf lord Trugva was killed last night by an unknown assailant. The fight gets broken down luckily.

Our heroes head to the harbor. They are hoping to find a sailor named Iacumus, who has apparently transported Crows in and out of Ferelden. Unfortunately our non-city faring peeps get lost and are assaulted by a bunch of thugs, a man named Bob and his band of thugs with Bob-related names, such as Bobbis and Bobbeliina. Our heroes get some assistance from Arkaitz who is firing a crossbow at the thugs from the rooftops. The battle really ends however, when Kuisma accidentally kills the leader thug. Woops.

Our heroes find Iacumus’ ship at the harbor. Iacumus is an older Antivan gentleman. He’s not very fond of Crows actually anymore, seeing that his wife was murdered by one, but he gives some information about Voran to the heroes.

Also Boshara tries to hit one one of the Antivan sailors, but the lady sailor isn’t impressed.

Our heroes have lunch and Kuisma tells stories about her son. Boshara also tells a bit more about the circumstances of her escape. Apparently there had been a great big explosion in the Circle tower and Boshara just saw the hole in the wall and left. She and Lumme also apparently had a, uh, physical relationship, which Kuisma takes it to mean that of course they’ll be married once she can find Lumme. Boshara doesn’t agree.

Our heroes decide that it would be better if Boshara had a fake name as templars might be looking for her, so she is renamed Nokkonen (Nettle). This is used consistently through this campaign and then basically never again.

Next up the party decides to try to find Arkaitz, but it seems both he and Zorion have left the city. Zorion had left a nice message for them, thanking for helping Arkaitz.

With nothing else to do, it’s time to shop! Our heroes go look at some armor and weaponry. They also visit a music store as Jelaina is seriously thinking about bard’s career. It seems that the music shop has also received some unwanted visitors as several magical instruments have gone missing. Our heroes promise that if they come across them they would return them. Jelaina buys herself a lute, while the others also pick instruments for themselves (never to be mentioned again, I might be able to pull them from old character sheets at some point). There’s also some shopping for fashion and bling, mostly from Randy’s part.

After this our heroes go to a tea party which is arranged by Lady Sibeal and is primarily for dwarves. There’s some gossip to be had here about dwarves acting strange and Trugva’s death and things along those lines. This was the last stop for the evening.

In the morning, our heroes start by looking into Kuisma’s missing doll. There’s a strange feeling that it might all be related. Kuisma had some information about the horses of the people who stole the doll, and asking around the horses get linked back to Lady Maired, surprisingly enough, so that’s where our heroes go next.

While there Boshara has another go at getting some, by hitting on Maired’s elven servant. It doesn’t go very well, but Randy manages to wingman some alone-time with the elf for Boshara, so, eh, I guess it counts?

Maired is an older woman so she couldn’t have done any stealing, but one of her servants, a man named Branwen seems awfully suspicious, so the characters tie him down and get some information from him. His information points them towards a clockmaker and a hedge mage by the name of Maike. She isn’t very co-operative even when Kuisma threatens her with templars. Unfortunately they have no proof to make that threat count. And if the templars took Maike away there would be no way to get answers.

From Branwen the heroes also get information about whereabouts the group which he and Maike belong to meet, which is at certain watch tower along the city walls. Our heroes go there and wait in the bushes and see Maike enter the place. They follow, but the watch tower is empty.

It takes them some time, but they (specifically Jelaina) manage to locate a mechanism that opens up a secret doorway that leads them below the ground. They come into a room, which has several dwarves and other folk there, who attack them almost immediately. They are of no much trouble at all.

Next room is different subject as it seems that something seriously bad is going down in this underground complex. Suddenly our heroes are attacked by shades, demonic creatures of shadows, and it’s looking really bad, when they are aided by some benevolent spirits, which give them temporary super-powers to defeat the shades.

From the next room they find the magical items, including Kuisma’s doll and the magical music instruments. Our heroes take those, and then head out to report the whole thing to the guards.

All’s well that ends well? Well, no, because next morning the inn’s door is punched open by a group of templars, who take Boshara away. Apparently someone had tipped them of her presence, and there’s nothing to do right now, in board daylight in the middle of a crowded city (though Kuisma does try to punch one).

Our heroes resolve to give chase to the templars and catch them up before they can return Boshara to the tower, but that’s for the next adventure!

NOTE: The basic story of this campaign was that there was a secret group of people which involved about half of the NPCs met that were conspiring on summoning spirits to Denerim to cleanse it of its vices and they needed magical energy from the artifacts for that, but it went a little wrong and main conspirators (Lady Sibeal and her hedge mage teacher) perished. Which is a cool idea but I never managed to give the players enough clues to really solve the thing. Ah well.

[wonademnigaz-blog]

Revenge Fantasy

     Like most, you may be unfamiliar with Turner-Brown. Learning about it might make you wonder how something a Justice Department official calls “diabolical” has not been more widely reported. That may soon change. The Department is attempting to compel a private organization to turn over documents related to its operations. That attempt may make its way to a federal court, though legal experts scoff at the idea.

    Turner-Brown seems like something that could be found only in an underground comic book, but its possible connection to real-life deaths has elicited the continuing attention of the FBI. The term refers to the Turner-Brown Heritage Society, so named in honor of slave insurrectionist Nat Turner and slavery abolitionist John Brown. It also refers to an award the Society has been presenting annually for the past decade to five individuals or groups who have “performed exceptional acts” in the spirit of the group’s two namesakes. The recognition, given as part of the ceremonies at a grand banquet, comes with more than a thank you. Each recipient also gets fifty thousand dollars. It is the criteria for winning this prize that has caught the government’s interest, causing the group’s existence to become less obscure. Turner-Brown and its honorees never have tried to hide, but they never have advertised themselves. The Justice Department thinks it knows why.

    For the first few years, the Turner-Brown Award banquets were seen as an elaborate hoax, or a sort of left-wing performance art produced on an unusual scale. A quarter of a million dollars is a lot to pay for a yearly fantasy, a sum that made people begin to take notice – that, and the fact prize winners are honored for supposedly having killed people. The thing that began to intrigue authorities the most was the basic rule that anyone hoping even to be nominated for an Award had to provide irrefutable proof of his or her worthiness. No, there have been no severed heads on pikes prominently displayed during the annual gathering, but the Society claims to review verifiable evidence before bestowing an honor. The Justice Department would like to know more about that.

    Circumstantial evidence suggests the Turner-Brown Award recipients have earned every penny of their prizes. That evidence may have been provided in remarks made by a 2013 honoree, Ezekiel Roth, during his acceptance speech. It has been reported such speeches customarily include cryptic allusions to the speakers’ alleged deeds, but something Roth said that year from the dais in the banquet hall of Washington’s elegant Ellicott Hotel resonated two years later with a deputy sheriff sitting at his desk in Gilead, Texas.

    Harry Cooper had been nearly obsessed with the unsolved murder of a resident of his small town. The victim, Roger Thornton, not only had no known enemies, he had been well-liked enough to have been elected five times to the state assembly. That would have been an unlikely feat for anyone out of step with the sentiments of Gilead and its environs, but Thornton knew what his neighbors and constituents wanted and made sure they got it. His murder in his home was beyond mysterious, made even more so because he had not been robbed, but Deputy Sheriff Cooper knew something the public did not. The killer intentionally left a clue indicating the murder might have been politically motivated: a pocket-sized copy of the Constitution had been stuffed down Thornton’s slit throat.

    Cooper, by chance one day looking at Facebook, saw something someone had posted about “some crazy group that said it ‘honored true warriors defending the Constitution against its desecraters.’” There was a reference to Ezekiel Roth’s speech in which he spoke of “’the satisfaction drawn from watching an enemy of the Constitution consume its words.’” Cooper has said reading that made his “hair stand on end,” and would not leave him alone. He began to wonder if it was possible this group, “this Turner-Brown Heritage Society” was really about what it said it was. He learned he was not the only one who had begun to wonder. Despite being chastised by his superiors for his “wacky notions,” Cooper contacted the FBI and discovered there was a special task force eager to catch a break.

    The FBI, becoming curious about the claims of Turner-Brown, has had an unacknowledged presence at the Society’s invitation-only affairs. The Award banquets are said to be lively events, with moments of sobering solemnity, attended by the political and social activists who comprise the group’s membership and their guests, a few of whom are luminaries from the worlds of arts and letters, entertainment and sports. Bureau agents take note of every attendee, and record and parse every word of every acceptance speech. The agency, though having looked at any possibility of a connection to any known case, had found nothing. According to the reported statement of a Justice official speaking on the condition of anonymity, after Harry Cooper’s call from Texas the attitude among members of the FBI’s Turner-Brown Task Force became “Well, why not take another look at Roth?”

    Because Roger Thornton’s death had been seen by the authorities as a local matter, it had not reached the notice of the FBI or even state agencies. Cooper’s hunch changed that, and agents began to look for any case similar to the one in Gilead. They found four others, in four different states. They felt they were onto something. Each victim, like Thornton in Texas, had a copy of the Constitution stuffed down his slit throat. Also like Thornton, each victim not only had been a state legislator, they all had been considered leaders in the push to enact voter ID laws.

    In an editorial this past May, the Washington Post – not known as a bastion of liberal thinking – labeled voter suppression efforts in Texas “chicanery” and said those efforts were “…resurrecting Jim Crow-style obstacles to the ballot.” It stated further that a federal court has determined more than 600,000 Texans would be affected. In Gilead, Roger Thornton’s views on voter ID laws were well known. He seemed incapable of following the lead of those who believed such laws should be discussed publicly only in terms of guarding against voter fraud. This non-existent problem was to be the only talking point. Thornton never stuck to the script, and talked frequently and boastfully about the intended effects of the laws: to create an electorate more favorable to his way of thinking by eliminating the potential votes of those who might think otherwise. In 2011, he was quoted in the Gilead Gazette as saying “the trouncing of the opposing party in upcoming elections will be a testament to the benefits of my actions and those of my colleagues in Austin.” In the FBI’s estimation, someone like Thornton would have been an inviting target for someone in a group like Turner-Brown – if such a group happened to be engaging in more than just the free expression of speech. Looking at Roth more closely became an imperative.

    Ezekiel Roth has said he does not know if he is a marked man, but he assumes he is a heavily surveilled one. He has stated in interviews that when he began to hear from family, friends, co-workers and even old classmates that agents were asking questions about him, he wondered what took so long. Roth speaks with the laid-back air of a stoner, not with the fervor of a zealot, not even with the bravado afforded a man who was awarded a Bronze Star while serving six tours of duty in Afghanistan – which Roth was. Since the existence of an investigation began to be reported, making Roth a bit of a public figure, he has not been shy about extolling the virtue of the Turner-Brown cause.

    Here is Roth, from an interview on CNN: “People were killed just for trying to obtain the right to vote, sometimes people who already could vote but saw others could not. What? Am I supposed to stand by and let people be disenfranchised just because no one is trying to disenfranchise me? I don’t think so. How could I, after seeing some of my brothers-in-arms die while we were fighting to give people half a world away a chance to vote? No way. I can’t do it. People say they’re proud of me for what I did over there, but not as proud as I am for receiving a Turner-Brown Award right here. John Brown has been a hero to me since I was a boy. I was raised on the Bible, and it was obvious to me he was a prophet just like those prophets of old. He saw what was going to happen to this country and said it was going to happen and they killed him and it happened anyway – just like he said. The sin that was slavery was washed away with blood. There should be a national holiday for him. There was a blood sacrifice made by people in the 1960s, too, but people trying to take us back to those days need to understand that people trying to vote won’t be the ones bleeding this time. They think the only thing people can do to try and stop them is to fight them in statehouses and courthouses. Well, some people have moved beyond fighting nice. The financial backers, think-tanks, super-pacs and politicians behind the voter ID movement all think they’re safe, but they’re not anymore, not any of them.” When pressed to explain this last part, Roth demurs. He understands the limits of free speech, he recognizes the line beyond which lies self-incrimination.

    Roth would probably have to incriminate himself if the FBI has any hope of tying him to a crime. The investigation of him has yielded nothing. Members of the task force find this frustrating and infuriating, given what they believe to be a salient factor: Roth was not following his normal routine during any of the five murders he is suspected of being connected to. Once a month, over a five-month period, he was not at home, work, his girlfriend’s apartment or any of his usual haunts. In fact, according to his own taunting statement, he was not anywhere in his hometown of Chester, PA. Each time he was away, he supposedly was on a fishing trip with a group of friends, staying in a cabin in the woods near Lake Mayfield in Michigan. Roth says he assumes the FBI found no credit card activity anywhere, and learned through GPS monitoring that his cellphone and car – and those of his friends, all fellow Heritage members – were always there at the lake when throats were being slit elsewhere.

    The FBI’s empty hands has pushed the Justice Department to the embarrassing position of rattling its saber at Turner-Brown. To date, the Department has initiated no legal proceeding, doing nothing more than announcing it continues to build a case to present to the court, and warning that members of the Turner-Brown Heritage Society will be “subject to federal prosecution if found to be engaging in or abetting criminal acts.” This feeble attempt to scare the Society into turning over its records has become a source of derision in legal circles. It is generally understood Justice has no legal basis for requesting records. It also is obvious that turning over any documents would be the last thing the Society would do if it really does reward people for “creating enemy casualties in the battle against disenfranchisement.”

    That battle isn’t the only one being fought by the membership of Turner-Brown, as evidenced by the diverse areas of interests honored each year. In 2013 alone, the year of Roth’s award, his fellow honorees included Janice Aingsley, who focused on state legislators trying to impede women’s right to control their own bodies; Samuel Welles, who has said “dangerous police officers should be removed from communities by any means necessary”; Margaret Harris, who decided people losing their island homelands to rising seas are owed something from people here who actively work against those trying to combat climate change; and James O. Johnson, who believes legislators who vote in favor of those trying to skirt clean air, water and soil regulations are guilty of attempted murder. It is a foundational belief of the Society that – were they alive today – Nat Turner and John Brown would not confine themselves to one fight.

    If Ezekiel Roth really is involved in the “diabolical” activities the Justice Department suspects he is, it is his response to the federal government’s inability to prevent state governments from enacting the voter ID laws he and the Turner-Brown Heritage Society oppose. Legislators who vote to approve such measures should bear in mind Roth’s words that they “…all think they’re safe, but they’re not anymore, not any of them.” How can they be, if there are some who are out for their blood?