poly_chromatic | 7 [text]

Entry tags:

murder by numbers - justin pendleton

7 [text]

[Police Filter // Unhackable]

Cain Hargreaves: Kidnapped and held captive for a few days, then released. Captor had no apparent goal or motivation.

Additional Notes

The culprit, (vocally) identified by Hargreaves, is named Gabriel. I spoke to him briefly via the network and learned that he is a corpse animated by what he called “necromantic energy.” He wasn't exactly forthcoming with relevant information.

When I spoke to Gabriel, I apologized at one point for being overly inquisitive. This was his response: “I don't really give a damn why you're asking questions. You're amusing me for now, that's all that matters.” It's possible that he abducted Hargreaves for no other reason than to entertain himself. It's also possible that the necromantic energy that he lives on requires a living human; I don't know anything about magic or who to consult, but it might be worth looking into.

[/end filter]

[Filtered to Dean // Unhackable]

If you want to talk, I'm willing to listen. I'm also willing to forget that anything was said if you'd prefer that.

[/end filter]

For those who haven’t heard, Todd Anderson has written a play called “Like Clockwork” that will likely be performed in May. If you are interested in helping with the play’s production, contact Neil Perry. Please consider attending.

Additionally, in light of recent allegations, I would like to issue this reminder: the police officers in the City are as susceptible to curses as anyone else. Like everyone else, they cannot be held responsible for actions they take while under the influence of a curse.

I wonder if the rest of spring will be as eventful as its beginning.

[Private // Off Network]

Most of the time, I appreciate the City. Right now, given the choice between staying in the City and not existing, I would consider the latter.

The Dalek invasion had one of the highest mortality rates of any recent curses. Guns were virtually useless against them. I spent most of the day encouraging people to stay inside; there wasn't much else to do. I missed a fine opportunity to be a dead hero.

The curse before that--I'm not sure what to make of it. My conversation with Dean was interesting. It didn't help me; I hope it helped him. I don't fully understand his reasoning regarding who does and doesn't deserve to be damned (all the more reason to remain an atheist). I don't know what he based his assertion that I'm "a good kid" on. Behavior in the City? "You'll be okay." Not likely.

Sometimes I think that I've forgiven myself. It's been over three years; I've died more than once, I've done the best that I can. There's a difference between reaching a point where I feel that I've suffered enough for my crime and forgiving myself--there's a startling revelation. Do I still feel guilty? Yes. Do I believe in redemption? Occasionally. I did before I left, when Shilo was here. Being dead for a year changed things, even if I don't know how or why. Since talking to Dean, all I can think about is what Cassie said when I wanted to change and start over.

It doesn't work that way. You get one life. Whatever you do with it, whatever's done to you--you've got to face that. You can't pretend it didn't happen.

Word for word, more or less. I've repeated it to myself often enough.

Sometimes I wish I would have let her die. I could have let Richard shoot her. I could have let her fall. And then what? Would it have changed anything? Would I be different right now if she hadn't lived long enough to say those words?

I stopped caring about staying alive when she said them.

I told Dean that anyone would kill to survive--Freud's life instinct. The will to live. It's natural. Why, then, didn't I kill to survive? It wouldn't have even been murder. Even after, why didn't I fight in court? in jail? I said it before: I'm unnatural. Everything that should be instinctual--staying alive, seeking sex--isn't. I was like this even before I left the City, but I didn't think about it as much. It didn't matter with Shilo. Living with Neil and Todd is fine, but it's a constant reminder that I'm wrong in more than one way. Maybe Freud was on to something when he linked sex and the desire to live.

Dean implied that he wouldn't fight against becoming a monster without his brother. Am I fighting? I half expect to wake up underground with fangs and claws and the other monsters.

But the origin of the monsters--that version--is only a theory. I have to remember that.

I wish I could talk to someone. Euphie, maybe. Every time I go to say something, I can't come up with the words. It's easier to write privately, even if I'm tempted to rip the pages out of my journal, hand them to someone, and ask them to read. They don't need to understand. I don't understand; I can't expect anyone else to.

I'll survive. I always do. I'll close my journal, push my thoughts away, and keep going. I'll keep avoiding talking about myself too much in any conversations I might have.

"But I am still alive! - Suppose damnation is eternal! A man who wants to mutilate himself is certainly damned, isn't he? I believe I am in Hell, therefore I am. This is the catechism at work. I am the slave of my baptism. You, my parents, have ruined my life, and your own. Poor child! - Hell is powerless against pagans. - I am still alive! Later on, the delights of damnation will become more profound. A crime, quick, and let me fall to nothingness, condemned by human law.
Shut up, will you shut up!... Everything here is shame and reproach: Satan saying that the fire is worthless, that my anger is ridiculous and silly. - Ah, stop! ...those mistakes someone whispered, magic spells, deceptive odors, childish music. - And to think that I possess the truth, that I can have a vision of justice: my judgement is sound and firm, I am prime for perfection... Pride."

(Rimbaud, "Night in Hell," A Season in Hell)

[/end private]

[ooc: Links are IC!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm not very competitive. It won't be tense.

[She smiles.] Schneizel and Lelouch would have such intense matches sometimes. Even when Lelouch was very young still.

Mm, I'll come to your home? Or would you like to come here?

I can't imagine you getting involved in those.

Would it be okay if I came over to your apartment?

[She shakes her head.] I don't think I could have. Lelouch and Schneizel were always so sweet to me. They would always go easy on me.

Mm, of course. I'd like that. You haven't been here before, have you?

You're too nice for anyone to do otherwise.

Thank you, and no, I haven't. You have a dog, don't you?

[Just a smile for that.]

I do. Tumbles. Hanna gave him to me on my birthday. Do you like dogs?

[It's okay, Euphie. You don't have to accept that you're a nice person for others to think so.]

Tumbles. I don't mind them. [hesitantly] If they're relatively small and don't bite.

He's smaller than you and he wouldn't bite. I'm sure he'll love you. [He tends to love everyone.]

I hope so. Dogs can't identify cat people, can they? [Joking. Kind of. Possibly.]

I like cats too and he doesn't seem to mind.

Good. Maybe I should bring him a peace offering, just to be safe. Do you want me to get anything? Snacks?

Maybe something sweet if it's easy?

I can manage that.

Then I'll see you soon?

Yes, of course. Soon.

I'll be waiting. [And she is if you want to go action.]

[Justin grabs a half-dozen cookies from the bakery on his way (he understands the principles of baking, but he can't be bothered to do it himself), along with a stick of beef jerky for the dog. He trusts Euphie when she says he's nice, of course, but that doesn't entirely negate his fear of dogs.

He gives Euphie's apartment door a timid knock.]

[The first sound on the other side is the scrape of eager doggie paws against the floor as Tumbles runs up to it and then into it... He was named Tumbles for a reason. But he's okay. He's a tough little guy. Well, not so little anymore.]

Coming, Justin! [Euphie's voice calls out clearly after the immediate shuffle. Tumbles' tail is beating against the door in an excited wag.]

Calm down, silly. [She says lightly to the dog as she turns the knob and looks down, waiting for him to back up a little before opening the door fully.]

[That is not a small dog.]

Euphie. Hello. [He shifts the cookies to free the hand with the beef jerky stick in it. This is offered to Tumbles with the kind of care one might take when moving to dismantle a bomb.]

[Smaller than you?]

Tumbles, this is my friend, Justin. Justin, this is Tumbles.

[Tumbles looks up at Justin, seemingly more interested in him and waiting for all the petting for a beat before noticing the stick. Or at least before noticing it was for him. He leans in, giving it a good sniff before opening his mouth to take it.]

[She did say that, didn't she. And she formally introduced him to a dog.]

[talking... to the dog] Hi, Tumbles.

[There will be no petting until Tumbles proves that he's not secretly vicious. Or at least full enough to not eat anyone. Justin is careful to keep his hand well away from the dog's mouth.]

[Are you glad she did it in English and not dog at least? That was for your benefit!

Tumbles looks up again. That was his name! He chomps the jerky happily. He has a name and jerky and a new friend who is forgetting about the petting, but that's okay for now. Tumbles is happy.]

I made some tea, and I can take those. [She holds her hands out for the cookies.]

[That was very thoughtful. Thank you.

Justin is content with this state of affairs. Maybe he'll pet Tumbles if he continues being so thoroughly nonthreatening.]

Thank you. [The cookies are relinquished.] You're apartment's nice.

Thank you too. [Tumbles has finished his jerky and now he needs...more. He wants to take things to the next level, Justin. Are you ready? Are you? Because this fuzzy little head is just going to slip itself under your hand and nuzzle it.

Euphie doesn't see this as she sets the cookies down on the table.] It's not so large, but I can show you around.

[The 'of course' that was to follow is interrupted by--oh. Well, Tumbles, you didn't take the opportunity to eat Justin's hand when you had it, so he'll pet you. Carefully. Somehow Justin has managed to avoid contact with dogs (curses aside) until now, so just... be gentle.]

I wouldn't mind a tour. Do you have a roommate? [The whimsical technicolor paintings don't exactly scream "Euphie."]

I find myself needing more "vaguely happy" icons.

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action, then!

Yay action!

action!

action!

action!

action!

action!

action!

action!