#oh well hopefully y’all r healthy and stuff

[theproblemcallednight]

guess who managed to get themselves sick. again

[firesfelt]

afternoon, all ! finally getting my last ( for now... i already have Temptations ) intro up, and hopefully without a rushed ending because i suddenly have to do something lmao. while i’m not Wild about my intro graphics in general ( why does this one lowkey look stretched, for a start... ) but the fact that that ‘o’ is perfectly circling amanda’s eye ? an absolutely accident but *chef’s kiss* nonetheless. i’m writing this up while saving rp icons, so let’s see if i can multitask !!

( amanda seyfried, 30, cis woman, she/her ) AISLING O’CONNOR was seen listening to HAPPY BY LEONA LEWIS on their way to DIETICIAN. AISLING is known to be OPEN-MINDED & UNFORIGVING.

➜ so first thing’s first, aisling is pronounced ‘ash-ling’ ( or ash-lin depending on your accent/whether you drop your ‘g’s or not ) and although it would make my life so much easier when it comes to typing if she did, she really doesn’t take well to anybody calling her ‘ash’ ( i’m up for the challenge though ! give me someone in her life who can finally get away with shortening her name !! she doesn’t tolerate nicknames at all but can we change her ? let’s see ! )

➜ and with a name like aisling o’connor, i’m sure y’all really don’t need three guesses as to where she’s from. she was born in belfast, and is the oldest of six sisters -- all of them blonde, and all of them beautiful ( would it be obnoxious to submit wc’s for all of them ? possibly... will i do it anyway ? perhaps... ) she comes from a very family orientated family, so when her parents wanted to move the family out of ireland due to the conflict at the time, it wasn’t surprising that aisling’s aunt, uncle, and cousins came too, as well as her darling nanna. 

➜ aisling landed in huntsville at the age of six, but you best believe her accent is still just as prominent now as it was while running around belfast. as the oldest sister, she took on a lot of responsibility within the household, helping to raise the little ones with a roll of her eyes a each request, but also while being easily ignored. her parents were in no way neglectful, but with five smaller children to look after, their focus simply wasn’t on aisling.

➜ this meant that aisling fell through the cracks a little, and issues that began to surface as a teenager went unnoticed. while she never actually had a problem with her weight, teenagers can be wildly cruel and the societal pressures of looking a certain way can lead to young minds being warped, so aisling was very aware that she looked different to her peers. she was more... thicc/curvy/buxom, as a way to put it. 

➜ attention might not have been drawn to her body as much if her interests were different. aisling spent her childhood and teenage years in dance classes, drama workshops, and singing lessons, all with the goal of training in musical theatre and going on to become an actress. there was a certain body type that surrounded her, and it wasn’t one she possessed, herself. 

➜ it never became a problem, though, until she did go to college for musical theatre. her parents wanted all six of their girls to go to university, and they promised they’d pay what they could towards it as long as they went. they’d support any course, any major, just please go to university. however, aisling dropped out after two years. teachers, professors, agents, casting teams, they all  had something to say, something to critique, something to jab at, and it lead to aisling’s self-image crumbling to the point of severe unhappiness, and developing an unhealthy relationship with food. constantly being told to drop ten pounds, as one can imagine, had a pretty gnarly effect on her. 

➜ while she knew it would be possible to make it anyway, to prove the industry wrong, to make change, to represent different body types so young girls in the future don’t have to doubt themselves like she did, aisling decided her own mental health was both too fragile to do that, and more valuable than doing that. 

➜ i feel like i’m going on about this a bit too much lmao, so i’m gonna wrap it up a bit: she was able to recover from the disorded eating that formed as a result, and discovered a newfound passion about nutrition, and was able to care about it without obsessing. she really wanted to form new habits around food and body image, and realised that her perspective and beliefs actually went way back to childhood, and it then extended into wanting to help other people. eventually, aisling went back to school and studied to become a dietician, which she now is. she has a special interest in helping young woman recover from disorded eating patterns and develop a healthy relationship with food and their body, and stomping all over diet culture, but she sees all kinds of clients in general. 

➜ so life has obviously taken a very different turn for her, but she’s really kind of,,, okay with that at this point ? it is what it is, and that pathway really didn’t suit her. she didn’t have the skin for the industry --- or maybe the industry shouldn’t require her to have such thick skin, but it’s in the past now.

➜ also, p.s, i really don’t want it to come off like i think that there’s no place for women in theatre that don’t have sutton foster’s body, y’know ? that ain’t it !!!! it’s more,,, the absolutely ridiculousness of the pressure actresses have to look a certain way, esp. in theatre where if you’re not really slim, but you’re not big enough for roles like madame thernadier/tracy turnblad/nadia mcconell/martha dunstock/etc, there’s no place for you ? or people act like there’s no place. also don’t want it to come off bad in that,,, obviously at the end of the day, aisling is a thin woman that’s a bit,,, curvy ? like oh poor thin white woman ? that ain’t it, that isn’t what i’m trying to do jshsbss. d’you get me ? tryin to comment on how the industry can be a bit Shit, without making it out like little white cis women are the ones discriminated against. hopefully y’all get me sjhnbssbs

➜ also, when i was Creating aisling, i was originally going to make her older, and was gonna use keri russell, which is a Fun Time. i absolutely love keri though so don’t be surprise if i pop up with a keri fc later on down the line, lmao. 

➜ in terms of personality, i feel like the two traits i picked for her app are a little, like, contradictory in a way ? but i love characters with conflicting personality traits. she’s very open-minded, easy to talk to, very accepting, etc ( she’s kinda like a therapist in that when you talk to her, she’ll just kind of nod and not show any kind of,, Reaction either way, she’s just Observing until it’s her turn to speak. she’s just taking everything in and Receiving without judgement for the most part ) but when she’s personally hurt, in a way that directly impacts her ( usually related to her family, tbh ) there is,,, no forgiving. she’ll hear you out, and maybe be able to move on from it, but forgiveness for the big, big things is r a r e. 

➜ like how gwen is always sort of,, Faking happiness, i feel like aisling is always sort of chasing happiness ? she always wants to do what’s best for herself, and loves and respects herself deeply, so she’s always making the choices that are more likely to lead to long-term happiness, even if it bloody well hurts in the meantime ---- like giving up acting. 

➜ i feel like while emika is just a loner in general who can’t handle more than fwb situations and one night stands, and gwen doesn’t have the time to form proper relationships with people due to her shift work, aisling is just really, really unlucky in love. like, for whatever reason, things just don’t work out, or turn sour, or just... fall apart. there’s a long line of exes and flings, people she took home to her parents and people she thought it best not to, all of which ending in tears. 

➜ at least she has her bunny rabbits, though. they’ll never let her down. their names are sondheim & shwartz, and they are her pride and joy. 

➜ her family play a massive role in her life, and she doesn’t know any differently and wouldn’t want to. her nanna is, as you can imagine, really quite old at this point, and deteriorating health-wise, but the whole family band together to keep her well and try and keep her mind active.

➜ in terms of connections and plotting, again, i’m really open. i’m willing to give absolutely anything a go and try and work stuff out. i’m also always open to hearing ideas for plots people really want and seeing if any of my characters fit. but for loose ideas for now: failed relationships & exes ( there’s lots of room there ), clients ( definitely don’t have to have issues with food necessarily ! she also sees people for things like dietary restrictions due to allergy or recently diagnosed illness like diabetes or pcos or w/e, pregnancy, folks who just want to create a meal plan that makes their body feel its best, picky eating in kids, etc ! ) people she went to school with, other theatre-y folks to bond with, honestly absolutely anything. 

[wrcght]

                   𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ↝ INTRO CONFESSIONAL.

Standing in front of the green screen ARIA ran her digits through her long platinum blonde tresses making sure they rested on the front of her shoulder. Looking at the man behind the camera cue for her to start she held up her hand.  “Wait! I gotta make sure my lip gloss on point.” She said, while pulling out a tube of lip gloss, signalling for someone to bring her a mirror. Holding the hand-held mirror with her left hand she applied the gloss with the right, eyeing someone to her left who’d seemingly didn’t like the time she’d taken out to look good. “Ya paid to be here right? Oh, ok!” She said all in one breath not allowing anyone to respond before a fit of giggles flowed from her duo her bright smile showing right after. “Let’s do this!” She clapped her hands together, the director giving everyone the signal that they were about to begin. 

“ARE YOU TUNED IN?” Clapping her hands together she bucked her shoulders a bit, making sure to be animated while she gave her introduction. “It’s ya girl, ARIA. I’m a twenty-four year old caterer, and ya daddy’s favorite chef.” ARIA gave a flirty wink, titling her head to the side slightly while pointing her index finger to the camera. “I’m bout the best cook in the A, and I like to put a smile on people’s faces that’s why I cater just about any and every event possible. My business? Is called THE WRIGHT WAY. Cause it’s the only way to go when you need some good food for ya event. I’m talkin’ anything from some good ol’ fried chicken and mac and cheese to any and all things vegan because being healthy? is always wealthy! AHHHKAY?” Laughing to herself she covered her mouth before shaking her head slightly. 

Quickly cutting the recording the producer step in, to help lead the interview to the next part. Almost like clockwork as he was speaking ARIA was fixing her hair and applying more lip gloss as she waited for him to finish speaking. 

"A’ight so, if you haven’t heard of us. My family is The WRIGHT family. No, that’s not a pun or nothin’ like that. Our last name is really WRIGHT. Spelled W-R-I-G-H-T.” ARIA spoke while allowing her fingers to point at imaginary letters below her. My family has the food game on lock, but I can’t lie to y’all. That’s not all I wanna do.” She said shrugging while she held her hands out. “I wanna become a triple threat. I got food down, but I’m tryna get a bartenders license so I can mix up somethin’ good  officially, but I also wanna learn how to bake and decorate. I can do a lil’ something something in the kitchen for pastries and stuff, but I wanna be on cake boss type of shit.” Shaking her head she laughed loudly clasping her hands together. “My best friend? MALIAH? is also on the show. I’ve known her for awhile now, and me and her are tight like white on rice.” ARIA begun laughing at her own joke. “Other than that, I don’t think I know anyone on the show like that, besides my family. "Besides well, Mm.” She rolled her eyes thinking of one other person she was more than familiar with.”You might have seen me on the gram before with some female named SIMONE, we ain’t cool like that no more so we gon’ see if we bump heads.” ARIA said rolling her eyes as spoke on  her an ex ‘friend’ ━ SIMONE; that was also supposedly on the show. Waving her hand away in a dismissive tone ARIA chuckled softly. “We not gonna talk about that though, we talkin’ bout real bitches only. Feel me?” She smiled regaining the focus on herself. “Hopefully ya fuckin’ with me. Cause I’m gone keep ya real entertained while y’all watch me. So stay tuned in to see ya girl, ARIA. AHHHKAY?” She said with a wink before slightly spinning and waiting for the camera to cut off.

“Let me see, I gotta make sure I look good. I can’t be having people say I look a mess the first episode. You know?” She smiled stepping over towards the producer.

@eahqs

[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."