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altrcistics · 5 years ago

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❄️❄️ –––– have you seen [ ESME MACMILLAN ] since the storm? some say they look like [ DANIELLE CAMPBELL ] but they’re [ 21 ] & go by [ THE TACITURN ]. [ SHE ] lived in halloway for [ 11 YEARS ] & they are originally from [ LONDON ]. before the town vanished they were studying [ MEDICINE ] and lived at [ UNI BLVD ]. most people knew the [ CISFEMALE ] as [ ALTRUISTIC ] but i’ve heard they can also be [ RETICENT ]. for some reason, they feel [ UNEASY ] about the town’s disappearance. –––

–––––– well , well if it isn’t me , b , with a broken theme !! but i’m too eager to pay any mind to it right now , and i’ve got homework due at midnight that has to happen after i get this baby posted . hi friends !! very excited to be here . this is my soul baby esme who is just trying her gd best and is stressed out 99% of the time . needs a 12 hour nap and maybe a therapist . summed up in a word ? soft , probably . i hope you love her like i do anYWAY GONNA leave this here and get to plotting so you can also hit me up at b a y#9956 on discord!!

LONDON.

weston and anna macmillan never planned on having a child. they were young and in love, and both had struck the genetic lottery – weston with his brains, anna with her trust fund. while weston was up and coming in the world of corporate law, anna had spent her life in pointe shoes and was at the top of her game as a principle dancer for the royal ballet in london. they were picturesque… perfect, even. until anna found herself to be three weeks late and their dazzling little dream life reached its first hiccup.

that hiccup entered the world screaming a whole nine months later!! tiny blue eyed esme grace macmillan was a fuckin handful even before she was born. as anna went through prenatal checkups, she found that her heartbeat was irregular. further tests concluded that she had hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (hcm) which is a genetic condition that affects the muscles in the heart and causes irregular blood flow. it’s not fatal, but it is hereditary and gets riskier with physical exertion. being a new mother, anna made the decision to shelve ballet and focus on this new chapter of her life.

which was probably a good thing! she loved being a mom, and it was safe to say that having a set of eyes on esme at all times was the right choice. she was restless and constantly full of energy. from a really young age, it became apparent that esme had inherited some of the best parts of her parents. she got her dad’s brains, catching onto things quickly and learning to walk and talk earlier than most. this turned into simple reading and messy writing shortly after. she wasn’t a very social kid though, didn’t talk much.

as soon as esme was old enough, she was put into tiny pink ballet slippers. she took a liking to dance, and this is when they realized she’d also inherited her mother’s natural grace. early on, it looked like she’d easily follow in her mother’s footsteps.

dance really really opened esme up. it was here that she started making friends and began tip toeing outside of her comfort zone and opening up a little bit, but her direction changed when she was six and discovered figure skating.

it was technical and lyrical like ballet, but it was far more challenging. even as a kid, esme loved a good challenge. so her parents bought her a pair of skates, and the rest is history. as she grew up, her weekends were occupied with practices, performances, and eventually competitions. she was a natural. and for the first time there was an air of confidence about her.

though she loved it more than anything in the world, her life soon came to revolve around school and skating. it caused her to miss out on a normal childhood, never really making friends close enough to be invited to sleepovers or birthday parties.

that made the move much easier for esme. when she was 10, her father’s firm went international and he was put in charge of the american branch. thus, the macmillans hopped across the atlantic and moved to halloway for a fresh start, a new adventure.

HALLOWAY.

she took a small break from competitive skating when they moved; it was her parents’ choice in hopes of her actually making friends in new hampshire. and it worked! for a while. esme was still quiet, still a little too book smart and a little less than street smart. even as a kid, she was awkward, but she was kind and clever and for the most part — people liked her.

and life was good for a long time! she got back into skating, and around the time she was thirteen she showed no signs of stopping. in fact, her sights were set on an olympic medal, and though her parents were wary of her inherited condition, they supported her in every possible way.

entering high school, life got a little bit harder. her schoolwork and training kept her pretty tied up, and it was often really hard for her to balance a social life along with that. she didn’t show up to every party. she didn’t really have any interest in going on dates. she kept up with her friends and made time for the important things, but she wasn’t exactly the most open person.

this backfired real quick!! as a freshman, at a bonfire, a senior boy kinda came onto her and when she said nope no thank you, he got pissed. instead of taking rejection Like A Man, he decided to spread a little rumor about them hooking up. this combined with her quiet nature kind of caused her to get a bit of a reputation of being aloof and a bit easy which is so far from the truth. but high school is high school!! and people were fuckin mean about it for a long time thereafter!

around this time was also when her parents sorta…. fell out of love. as in… her father got a little power hungry, a little bored of his life, and like the cliche he is started having an affair. the secrecy of it didn’t last… long and he ultimately left both anna and esme. she felt kind of.. abandoned. like they weren’t good enough almost but.. she and her mom got . even closer because of it tbh. the macmillan girls don’t need no man!!

so she threw herself into her studies and even more so into skating. she trained in the morning and on the weekends, year round. winning competitions made her feel good, and she kept doing so. when she was fifteen, she competed at the world figure skating championship. though she didn’t medal, her scores were impressive and she became an alternate for the us figure skating team at 16. being so close to those five rings was enough to push her further.

she left traditional high school and threw herself even further into figure skating. (this only fueled halloway rumors that she was a bit of a snob akjdfha) after graduating, she enrolled at halloway part time in order to slowly get through her gen eds while training for, yup, you guessed it, the 2018 olympics.

and ya know what? it paid off. at 20, she’d had two world’s silvers and a world’s gold under her belt as she competed in the winter games. her whole life had been leading up to that moment, and she brought home an olympic gold medal in women’s figure skating. that’s right, ya girl fucking peaked.

it was a high, for a while. and she rode it quietly and gracefully. idk she was PROUD ok she worked so hard…. but her incessant need to be perfect and to continuously better herself was nagging in the back of her mind. she wasn’t sure how you could really get better than gold at the olympics.

needless to say, she’s in the midst of a bit of an identity crisis. with her heart condition and ya know aging… she knows figure skating isn’t a forever-thing. so she went back to halloway, taking an interest in medicine and trying to understand her own weakness— a weak heart. she began studying medicine and to fell in love with that profession, but . she honestly can’t stay off of the ice. activate existential dread! she doesn’t actually know who she is!

and then the heckin storm happened smh

NEW HALLOWAY.

with a calm exterior and a notorious knack for being maternal . . . someone , somewhere along the line said hey let’s put esme in charge of the hospital to which she said in a john-mulaney-esque voice . . . huh ? what ? huh ? what ??? huh ???? and then did it anyway

if she’s not on call or working at the hospital , best believe she’s studying because she’ll be the first to tell you she has no business calling herself a doctor

it’s been months!! since!! they disappeared!! and she’s sort of adjusting to this new life which often makes her feel very, very guilty because she doesn’t know what’s happened to her mother at this point

when everything was frozen she still found time to escape and do some skating on the lake aksdjfhas

for the most part, she keeps herself busy ... someone like .... help her tho

PERSONALITY.

esme’s naturally introverted. she likes people, but she’s a textbook people pleaser and gets exhausted quickly when she’s socializing. she’s always been quiet, never the center of attention (unless on ice) and never the loudest voice in the room. when she does speak, though, it’s purposeful and articulate. the sort of ‘she doesn’t talk much but when she does it’s important’ kinda thing idk. she’s not meek ya know.. just reserved

she’s naturally… very kind. cares a lot about other people but struggles to express that which is why she gravitates towards the profession of medicine. she enjoys helping people ya know

ya girl keeps her shit close to her chest. doesn’t really want to bother anyone with her own shit and takes her anger out in physical activity, disassociates from her sadness by reading. a lot of people know her but not on a deep level. tbh does she even know herself? prob not

she’s not a stick in the mud, but she does need a little push every now and then. she lets loose when she’s around people that she’s comfortable with tbh. behind the prim and proper macmillan facade is.. a bit of a goofball. does not hesitate to participate in dramatically karaoke or midnight swims in a lake.

SOFT as fuck but she’s not one to be walked all over. she’s clever as all get out and when snapped at harshly enough won’t hesitate to snap back. she doesn’t get angry to the point of showing it easily, but when she does, she’s very purposeful with her words. don’t underestimate her she hATES being underestimated

competitive as heck. in academics, in sports, in board games. she’s a sweetheart but she will wreck you in spite and malice or sorry bc she just… has a competitive nature

really does give a shit about what people think of her. like… wants to be liked. not being liked by some people in high school really fucked w her bc she just….. can’t help caring about how other people perceive her and wants it to be positively. it’s in part because of how she was raised?? she grew up in a pretty monitored, strict environment between rigorous training and her parents’ world of the rich (will this change after the storm tho??? we’ll SEE)

values honesty like has absolutely 0 time to be lied to and 0 time for bullshit

SO curious, always ready to learn more

will make a fool of herself to see you laugh

a lil bit of amy santiago.. a lil bit of rory gilmore.. a lil bit of caroline forbes..

needs to relax; constantly Anxious

s t u b b o r n

literally never sleeps

doesn’t curse bc there are more clever ways to express anger

reputation: aloof and stuck up. reality: literally just shy lmao

is TRYING VERY HARD

WANTED PLOTS.

i have a few connection ideas here!! and a tag here!! but also…

friends from halloway that she’s just… straight up been pals with since she moved there

i’m… constantly thirsty for … girl gang shit. any of y’all watch the bold type? i eat that shit uP AND IT’S all i NeED TO BE . HAPPY OK

esme’s an only child and i would love to see a sibling-like bond for her

academic rivals pls and thank!! mayb in their major…. mayb back in high school…. paris vs rory anyone?

the maya to her riley oh man

a bad influence or even… the polar opposite . to her Mom Friend-ness

someone else who grew up in the realm of rich parents like galas suck but at least we got each other!!

neighbors!!

new friends! people who she’s met through halloway and quickly taken a liking to. super interesting dynamic bc… while she’s eager to know u she’s not so eager to …. open up lmao

previous roommates

y’all into angsty exes? i know this is the end of the world and all but that don’t mean wE CAN’T get SAD

someone she became friends w via… skating yikes akjdfha i swear that’s not her only personality trait

someone she agreed to tutor!! or study buddies!! ‘i’m going to cry literal tears on my flashcards please study with me!’

someone she was forced to be friend with post-storm. they step on each other’s toes but suck it up for the sake of everyone else

i .. love combining ideas and brainstorming too so!!! we can also do that!!

if you made it this far i’m literally going to cry bc i love you already for reading a rambling like this . aNYWAY !! that’s my esme. feel free to smash the like and i’ll come to you or message me on discord!!

#hallowayintro #OOOOOF #admin b is most certainly not killing it today #but pls just.... love me anyway

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robininthelabyrinth · 6 years ago

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Fic: An Internal Affair - Chapter 9 (Ao3 link)

Fandom: The Flash Pairing: Leonard Snart/Barry Allen

Summary: Leonard Snart, the CCPD Captain of Internal Affairs, is known as Captain Cold for a very good reason: He hates corrupt cops with a merciless vengeance, and once you’re on his list, you’re in serious trouble.

His next target?

A CCPD lab tech named Barry Allen who’s developed a suspicious habit of disappearing at random intervals.

—————————————————————————————————

"You're doing it again," Danvers says gleefully.

Len puts his phone down. "No idea what you're talking about," he lies.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Nope."

"You're smiling. You never smile."

"I smile."

"You really don't, boss," Danvers chides. "You should. It's a good look on you."

Len arches his eyebrows at her.

"It is!" she insists. "I mean, sure, okay, you've managed to convince at least six people here that you're about to purge the department, but that's just because you look kinda smug and demonic when you smile -"

Len grins, with teeth.

"Stop that, it's not a good thing."

Len's not so sure about that.

His phone buzzes.

Len can feel his vicious grin melting into a softer, fonder smile.

"Go on," Danvers says, her own smile turning positively wicked. Len's proud: that's entirely his influence. "Don't leave your boyfriend hanging."

"We went on one date, Danvers."

"Oh, it was a date, now; I thought it was just an information-gathering dinner..."

"It can be both," Len says with great dignity. "Please ignore all previous statements to the contrary."

"Boss..."

"I know, I know," Len says, holding his hands up in concession. "Don't worry, I'm not crossing any lines with it. It'll stay platonic - at least until I clear him, anyway. Then we can be boyfriends."

“Woo hoo!” Danvers cheers. “One very cute guy, in the bag –”

“And how would you know that?”

“I went to sneak a peek at him, obviously,” Danvers says, absolutely shameless. “Have to know what’s good enough to catch my boss’ eyes, don’t I?”

"Oh, shut up," Len tells her, but his attention is back on his phone, reading Allen's latest ridiculous story about his (highly implausible) workday. The most recent twist involves several long paragraphs regarding his newly discovered dreams of retiring to a goat farm.

Allen texts remarkably fast.

Must be a millennial thing.

It's nice, though; Len's used to being the talker, the chatty one, but Allen (should he call him Barry?) has a motor mouth that puts Len's to shame.

(Mick would find it hilarious and say it’s exactly what Len deserves.)

At least Len's still winning their pun-off hands down.

Not literally hands down, of course, since it's happening largely through text.

Heh, he'll have to mention that one to Allen...

"When are you going to see him again?" Danvers asks, interrupting Len's pun-related reverie. "For a date, I mean; not for an investigation."

"I'm still investigating him," Len reminds her. And himself.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know, you’re still investigating, of course you are," Danvers replies, flapping her hands at him. "You're way too paranoid - what you told me about Allen investigating the Flash makes perfect sense to me. Especially since we've managed to correlate a lot of Allen's mysterious disappearances and out-of-field conversations with all the stuff the Flash is up to. We just need to prove it and bam! Dating free and clear."

"Bam? Really?"

"I watch a lot of Food Network," Danvers says. "Shut up. Seriously, though, you're not going to wait until the investigation is done to go out with him again, are you? Tell me you're not!"

"I'm seeing him again tonight," Len admits.

Danvers literally punches the air.

"You're overly invested in this," Len tells her. "Seriously over-invested."

She rolls her eyes at him. "You tell me all about it! All the time!"

"You're my secretary! I need you to make sure that I don't double book over any MR days or anything."

"A, it’s admin assistant, not secretary. B, you went to see Mick yesterday," Danvers says. "Because Allen was working late to make up for taking the day off after being at court in the morning the day before. You know perfectly well that you're not missing anything; you just want to gloat."

Well.

She's not entirely wrong.

Though Len still feels obscurely guilty about how much time he's spending on Allen instead of his usual work, even though the DAs have suggested that they’re appreciating the break.

Or maybe the guilt comes from the fact that he still hasn't figured out exactly how, or why, Allen faked the coma business, and how that ties in with whatever STAR Labs is up to with the Flash - a question that will only be answered either by Allen himself, or with the arrest of the Flash.

Both, ideally.

(No, Len does not have daydreams of presenting the Flash handcuffed to Allen on a silver platter. Really. At all. That would be unprofessional and unproductive, and anyway he probably won't be the one making the arrest if everything goes well; that honor would be going to Detective Thawne, him being an actual detective and all.)

He really hopes Allen is clean – well, clean of everything but a bit of insurance fraud, but insurance fraud in the pursuit of his mother’s murderer; surely that’s somewhat more understandable, right?

Mick would understand that.

Len thinks Mick would like Allen.

He confessed the whole thing to Mick during his visit the day before: how wonderfully their dinner (date) had gone, how they'd connected and talked and kept talking, how Len's infatuation was moving from a mostly physical attraction and a slight appreciation for Allen's niceness towards something far more dangerous...how he was worried that he would let his feelings interfere with his investigation.

How he knows they already have.

They have been from the start, when he began investigating Allen as much because of Mick as anything else, and they are now, with his fondness for Allen leading him to want to find a result that will exonerate him.

Yes, the Flash theory makes sense, but it isn’t the only possibility. After all, Allen could still be an accomplice.

He could still be corrupt.

God, Len wishes he knew what STAR Labs was up to.

He just can’t figure out what the Flash's deal is.

The guy claimed that he isn't seeking glory, and despite himself Len thinks he believes him, so it’s not about that. Nor does the Flash seem motivated by revenge, the way the Hood/Arrow's vendetta against crime had obviously been at the start. And it certainly isn't some idiot joyriding around on some new technology, either.

Len would be willing to give the Flash the benefit of the doubt and say that the whole thing really is stemming from an overdeveloped sense of public duty, but every time he considers it, he thinks about Allen, and more than Allen, he thinks about all those damn disappearances.

Far too many people seem to disappear without a trace after an encounter with the Flash, or at the very least streaks of lightning that suggest his presence.

The latest disappearance: LaShawna Baez, an ex-medical student that'd gotten tangled up with a bad boyfriend with Family ties.

Of course, they all suspected the boyfriend was responsible when he'd gotten caught, but when questioned, he swore that he'd left her behind to be captured by the cops or the Flash when their little Bonny-and-Clyde streak of robberies went off the rails.

Heh.

Streak of robberies...

Either way, another disappearance like that, right around yet another Flash sighting? Not good. After all, at most, Baez would have been guilty of grand robbery without any aggravating factors, like use of arms or felony manslaughter, and that sort of crime doesn't come with a death sentence. If the Flash killed her, then there can be no doubt that he is perverting the legal system in the worst of ways.

And if he isn't killing them, then where are they?

A mystery.

Unlike many people, Len didn't become a cop because he likes solving mysteries. He became a cop because he wants to see justice done. Mysteries are nothing but an impediment to that goal.

Len's phone buzzes again.

Not Allen, though; it's a text from...Danvers?

It reads: "Where are you taking him?"

"Very funny," Len tells her, looking up and rolling his eyes at her.

"Hey, since it seems like you're only accepting messages by phone today, I figured I'd follow protocol," Danvers says, laughing and putting down her own phone. "But seriously, where are you going? Not somewhere outside, I hope; the forecast is for intermittent bursts of rain."

"No, not outside. He's picked a restaurant downtown," Len says. "Hole-in-the-wall in an iffy area, but supposedly the best pasta you can find in the city."

"Better than Antonio's?"

"Doubtful -" No one's pasta is better than what the seemingly immortal Antonio served up in his eponymous restaurant, and Len's not just saying that because he more or less survived his pre-teen years on Antonio's willingness to trade extra bowls of pasta for help washing up the tables that Len suspects he didn't really need. "- but it's always worth a try."

"Have fun," Danvers says. "Though - if it's an iffy part of the city -"

"I'm not wearing the mask on a date, Danvers," Len says sternly. "No. Just - no."

"Fine," she says, pouting. "But you take two phones and an emergency alert, got it?"

"Danvers -"

"No, boss. This is non-negotiable. You're still basically number one on the Family hit list. Just because they've left off a bit now that you're doing internal affairs in the middle of a police station most of the time doesn't mean that they'll hesitate to shoot you if they see you on their turf."

"I'll be careful," Len promises.

Danvers doesn't look entirely appeased, but it's the best she's going to get, so she takes it.

Len kills the next few hours with a combination of texting with Allen and finishing up the paperwork to get warrants on the next batch of cops under suspicion.

He's a little worried that all that texting means that they won't have anything to talk about during dinner, but that fear turns out to be totally misplaced: the conversation flows as easily as the endless refills of soda that Allen keeps draining in his infectious excitement.

(The pasta's no Antonio's, but the breadsticks are definitely out of this world. He'll have to tell Danvers.)

Len's not even sure what they talked about: everything and anything, from the deplorable state of politics in Central to the perils of paperwork, the need to improve infrastructure in the slums without it resulting in gentrification and the eviction of the current residents, to the trials and tribulations inherent in finding just the right present for their respective siblings/best friends.

They're both laughing over some dumb joke Len made - some unnecessarily complicated and definitely not-actually-that-funny thing about the Central City Combines and the Transformers cartoon/toy series - when they leave to go home, with Allen laughing so hard that he needs to lean a hand against Len's shoulder to steady himself and Len wiping tears of amusement out of his eyes.

That's probably why he doesn't see the guy sliding out of the darkness to cut off the exit to the alleyway that's the only way in or out of the restaurant.

He definitely hears it when the guy snarls, "Put your hands up and no one'll get hurt," though.

They both stop laughing at once and turn to look at the mugger.

He's of average height and build, dressed in baggy clothing of assorted colors that have faded through over-use. He seems moderately well-put together, though, despite the stringy brown hair that seems to be trying to form white-man's-dreadlocks - which is to say, knots.

He's holding a switchblade on them.

It's not even a gun.

"Seriously?" Allen says. "Seriously? You just – to – right in the middle of – jeez, some people just have no luck."

Len couldn't agree more. What sort of unfortunate luck must a mugger have to pick not one but two CCPD employees, a cop and a CSI, to try to rob?

Of course, Allen doesn't know what Len does, and Len doesn't want it to come out this way - then he'd have to confess to the yet-unfinished investigation, because there's no way that he works at the same precinct and doesn't know about Allen.

If anything, that restriction cripples him more than his current need to use a crutch.

"I mean it!" the mugger insists. "Now!"

"If you need money, there's a cardboard brigade outpost not far from here," Len tells him. "I can point it out to you if you're not familiar. But robbery's only going to get you thrown in jail."

"Seriously," Allen says again, this time in emphatic agreement. He's shifting from foot to foot, looking as though he's torn between options of what to do - Len can't blame him; a middle-class kid like Allen's probably only been mugged once or twice in his life. He's probably debating whether fight, flight, or concession makes the most sense.

Not unlike Len, who, despite many years of experience on the wrong side of muggings, needs to decide if it's worth discarding his disguise and revealing his secret to get them both out of this.

The mugger's eyes fix on Len and abruptly narrow. "Hey," he says. "Don't I..."

And then he grins.

Len doesn't like that grin, nasty and cruel and planning nothing good for anyone.

"Oh hell no," Allen yelps as the mugger, without any other warning, suddenly lunges forward, knife extended, straight at the two of them.

A second later, the knife clatters to the ground - Allen must have swatted it out of the mugger's hand at remarkable speed - followed very quickly by the mugger himself, because Len balanced on his good foot and used the crutch in his other hand to bash the mugger right over the head, knocking him out.

They both look at each other.

And burst out laughing.

"My hero," Allen chokes out.

"You're the one who went for the knife," Len reminds him, sniggering. "Right back at you."

"Oh, sure, I went for the knife, yeah, but you broke out the crutch-foo -"

"Hey, a man's gotta know to defend himself! It's a hard world out there!"

"What the hell's going on here?" a voice bellows from behind them.

They turn, still laughing; it's the maître d' from the restaurant.

"Sorry," Allen manages to get out between hoots of laughter. "This guy tried to mug us -"

The maître d' glances down at the unconscious mugger. "Oh, great, him again," he says with annoyance. "All right, get out of here, both of you; I'll call it in to the cops."

He probably won't, if he knows the mugger personally, or at least he'll give the mugger a chance to wake up and flee the scene first, but whatever; Len's on a date he doesn't want to disrupt, and he never much liked arresting poor people even when they clearly deserved it.

He glances at Allen, who nods and thanks the maître d', and with that they both leave the alleyway behind.

"Well, that was a terrible ending to a pretty good dinner,” Allen remarks.

"It wasn't that bad," Len says. A bit of unexpected excitement goes a long way to making even the dullest dinner interesting, in his view, and this was far from the dullest of dinners.

"I don't know," Allen says ruefully. "I take you to a restaurant I like in a sketchy part of town and then, for the first time ever in my experience coming to this place, someone tries to mug and then kill us? I don't see how it could possibly be worse."

The second he says that, there's a roll of thunder.

No. It can't be. The world does not love anyone enough to give them such perfect timing.

It is.

The skies open up above them, rain sheeting down in one of Central City's infamously abrupt downpours.

Len's heart is going to explode out of sheer what-wonderful-timing glee.

"You had to say it," he tells Allen, beaming.

"I had to say it," Allen agrees, starting to laugh again.

Allen - Barry - looks so happy, standing there with the rain sheeting down on him, soaking his clothing and plastering his hair to his skull in what really ought to be an unattractive wet-dog look but really isn't, that Len finds himself taking that extra step forward and pressing their lips together.

A second later, he abruptly remembers himself - and his investigation! - and pulls away. "I'm sorry," he says. "I should have asked - we said this was just about getting to know each other -"

Allen reaches out and pulls Len back into the kiss by his jacket lapels.

Oh, Len really shouldn't. He really, really shouldn't.

But he's happy, damnit, and it's been so long since he's been happy, really truly unabashedly happy - not just with a possible romantic partner, that's been forever and a half, but with anyone at all, months and months -

God, Len is so screwed.

He leans into the kiss, reaching up to grab Allen by the shoulders to pull him in -

His side gives a sharp, sudden stab of agony as his crutch falls to the ground.

"Oh, man, I'm so sorry!" Allen exclaims, breaking away, taking care to steady Len on his feet before squatting down to pick up the crutch again. "Man, I should've been thinking -"

"If you were thinking, we were both doing something wrong," Len says dryly, trying to recover himself while also clutching at his side a bit. He's familiar with pain, has a great pain tolerance, but even he gets tripped up by it sometimes.

Allen smiles at him as he hands over the crutch. "Yeah," he says. "I - don't think we were. I mean. If you don't."

Len's still hurting - joy and love making pain go away is the stuff of fairytales and romance novels - but he does end up smiling helplessly back. "No," he says. "Though maybe -"

"We go slow?" Allen suggests.

Len nods.

"That works for me," Allen says. "Like, really. I've got some stuff I need to work through - stuff I want to work through. I - I like you. A lot. And I'd like this to work out. But for that to happen, I need to get over some stuff. So, uh, yeah. If slow works for you, slow works for me."

"Slow works," Len agrees, smiling. "I've got some stuff on my plate, too -" That stupid investigation, for one. God, he wishes he could just get over himself and decide that Allen is innocent, but that's just not his way. Not until he's proved what happened. "- so, yeah. Slow works great."

Allen laughs. "This is kind of ironic in ways you don't even know about yet, but you will," he says, a promise dancing in his eyes. "And, uh, yeah. Good. I'm glad we're on the same page. Want me to catch you a cab?"

Len manages, through valiant effort, to keep them to a single kiss good-night before he gets into the cab and goes home in an utterly fantastic mood.

He'd say that it's the sort of mood that can't be brought down, but that would be a lie, because limping into his supposedly secure apartment and finding Charlie standing there browsing the cookbook section of his bookcase does the trick pretty well.

"What the hell do you want," Len says flatly.

"That's not nice," Charlie says peaceably, continuing to browse. "You should be nicer."

Len rolls his eyes. Charlie is an old - is friend the right word when you can't stand someone but put up with them anyway out of long-standing habit? Probably not.

An old contact? That works.

Len has known Charlie since they were both in juvie together. He was mildly unsettling back then; he's positively creepy now.

It's the way you're distinctly aware of those priors for cannibalism (technically, disgracing a corpse) and possible kidnapping the entire time you're around him, even if you don't actually know about them.

Still, while, despite that fact, Len generally considers Charlie to be harmless - he's usually willing to accept a firm 'no', bizarrely enough - that doesn't mean he wants Charlie appearing in his apartment.

Len sleeps here.

"Who let you in?" Len asks.

"Your house-cleaner," Charlie says promptly. "She remembered me from last time."

Len's going to have to have a word with her.

"And why are you here?" Len prompts, since Charlie seems to be getting distracted with a book on large-scale barbecuing that Len'd gotten for Mick as a present one year.

"I was wondering if anyone had tried to kill you yet," Charlie replies.

Len stares at him.

Charlie blinks back. "Hasn't anyone told you about the new bounty on your head?"

"No, Charlie," Len says, keep his voice mild and controlled. "You're one of my contacts, remember? You're supposed to tell me about these things - I don't know them if you don't tell me them."

"Oh. Right. Well, they only put it up a day or two ago. Hasn't anyone tried to kill you yet?"

"No, I don't keep a regular schedule, which makes it harder to -" Len pauses.

That's his usual answer, but it's not true, is it? Someone did try to kill him.

Sure, a random probably-high mugger acting on impulse, not a Family assassin, but now that Len considers it, the guy had stared at Len, recognizing him, before escalating from a mugging to attempted murder.

If there's a bounty on his head, with a picture attached, that would explain the recognition.

"A Family bounty?" Len asks.

"Of course," Charlie says. "They really do hate you, you know."

"I do know," Len says. That doesn't mean he's not puzzled, though. "Still, recognizing my face...I thought they'd put the bounty on the backburner for a while? On account of them not wanting to start an outright war with law enforcement?"

Charlie shrugs. "It's back on. Or, well, it was never off, but notice of it was redistributed. I heard a rumor that you crossed one of their assassins and they made a request."

Assassins? Len hasn't been allowed anywhere near anything Family related, much less one of their trained killers.

Maybe one of the corrupt cops he'd taken down?

But the only one in the last week or two was Cichowski. That seems highly unlikely.

Besides -

"Why wouldn't an assassin just take me down themselves?" Len asks, a little skeptical. "Seems the most straightforward approach."

Charlie shrugs again. "Laziness, vanity, doesn't want his name associated with it - who knows? Could be plenty of reasons."

Point well taken.

“How good a rumor is it, that it's one of the Family assassins' behind it?” Len asks. "Rather than one or another of the Family's brass getting a bee in their bonnet for some reason or another?"

“Just a rumor.”

That’s not worth much.

“Let me know if there’s anything more in that?” Len asks.

“Of course,” Charlie says. “I’ll ask around. But you should be careful.”

Len's lips twitch. "No one gets to kill and eat me but you?"

"If I kill you, I'm going to eat you, yes," Charlie says, as mildly and peaceably as ever. "Same thing if I find your body in a well-preserved state. But you're my friend: there's no reason for me to want you to go before your time."

That's almost heartwarming, if you ignore the kill-and-eat part. And possibly the "before your time" part; Len's going to have to check that Charlie hasn't hatched another plan to kidnap, murder, and devour him again, especially now that he doesn’t have Mick to keep an eye out about it for him.

It's a good thing Charlie's plans are invariably crap.

"Well?" Charlie says expectantly.

"I'll be careful," Len promises. "Now get the hell out of my apartment."

Charlie does, taking with him one of the cookbooks - not the barbeque one, which he knows is off limits, but one of the how-to-make-macrons ones, which, uh, what?

"That's not nearly as funny as you think it is, boss," Danvers informs him the next morning, when he tells her the story. "Can we get back to the part where your life is in danger?"

"It's just a bounty," Len objects. "There's technically been one on my head this entire time."

"Yes, but you haven't had random muggers escalating to attempted murder the second they recognize your face!"

Oh, boy. Danvers is breaking out the increased emphasis.

"It wasn't a serious attempt -"

"Boss!"

"I'll keep wearing the mask when I go out on Flash business, okay?" Len says. "I promise."

Danvers crosses her arms and glares.

Len swears he can feel the hair on his arms start scorching.

Time to use his trump card.

"I also promise that I'll stick to Jitters and other well-lit areas for any more dates with Allen," he offers.

Danvers keeps glaring for an extra second to make sure he knows that she's only going to fall for his bait because she wants to, not because he tricked her, and then she grins. "You're going to have more dates?"

"We are," Len confirms, unable to keep himself from smiling back. "Going slow, though - he's getting over somebody, and I need to finish the Flash investigation first."

"If you get the Flash, then Allen can stop doing all the suspicious things he's doing," Danvers agrees. "And you can scratch the whole thing off as well-meant but misguided over-enthusiasm."

"Well, not the whole thing," Len demurs. "I'm still going to make him deal with the insurance fraud aspect of it all. But yes, if he's not corrupt, that makes things much easier. But remember -"

"Yes, yes, I know, people on your list are guilty until proven innocent."

"No," Len says, rolling his eyes. "Just Occam's razor: corruption is unfortunately still the more reasonable explanation. Do you really want me getting in deep with someone with an asterisk by his name?"

Danvers softens. "Yeah, okay," she says. "You sure it isn't too late for that?"

"I'm infatuated, not in love," Len says. "If we find out that he's no good, I'll live."

He'll be disappointed, sure, even maybe a little heartbroken, but whatever.

"What's on the agenda today?" he asks, changing the subject. His resolution to practice talking about his feelings with Danvers so that he doesn't choke up when apologizing to Mick after he wakes up (if he wakes up) aside, he still doesn't enjoy it. Give him work to do instead any day.

That pesky work ethic is probably why he was Central City's most successful freelance thief for over a dozen years running, possibly more, depending on how you count these things.

"Let me check," Danvers says, sliding back over to her computer. "Looks like a pretty light day - you've got some meetings in the afternoon with the DAs to walk them through some of your evidence again so that they don't get cold feet about bagging a cop, again -"

"In an election year, with only a short while to go before the primary? They ought to be happy that I'm giving them so much law-and-order cleaning-up-the-system cred."

"I'm not the one you need to convince of that," Danvers says dryly. "Anyway, that left this morning pretty open, so I took the liberty of arranging an informal powwow on behalf of the Anti-Flash Task Group -"

"It's not actually called that, you know."

Danvers rolls her eyes at him.

"That sounds great," Len adds. Some solid investigative work sounds right up his alley right now. "They're coming here?"

"Detective Thawne and Miss West, yes," Danvers confirms. "I figured you didn't want every street cop who's potentially on the task force personnel list."

"Definitely not." Len pushes himself back from his chair and up to a standing (well, leaning) position. "I'm going to practice some PT in my office; let me know when they get here."

The joys of healing.

Thawne and Iris - she'd insisted, by virtue of refusing to answer to anything else, and anyway he needs to distinguish her from the other, less amiable West that stalks the precinct with a grim scowl like he thinks that alone would drive Len away - arrive an hour later, when Len's finished and already put his leg up to rest while he grimly drains a green smoothie designed to feed him nutrients he needs.

He hates green smoothies.

All those vegetables –

(They don’t taste like the ones Mick made him eat at all. He wonders if Allen likes veggies...)

"Hey, sorry, are we late?" Iris asks, looking around the mostly deserted conference room that doubles as Len's part of the precinct. "Or, uh, early?"

"Right on time," Danvers chirps. "Please, have a seat anywhere you like; as you can see, we've got the space but not the personnel. Captain Snart will be out of his office momentarily."

Len's mostly glad about the excuse to toss the smoothie.

Danvers glares at him when he comes out to the main room - she always knows when he's thrown away his smoothie, it's uncanny; he swears she can see through walls - but he ignores her and hobbles over to greet his guests.

Teammates?

Whatever.

"I look forward to working with you, Detective Thawne," Len says, sticking his hand out. "I've heard good things."

Thawne looks surprised.

"Eddie!" Iris hisses, elbowing him in the side.

He abruptly remembers himself and belated reaches out to shake Len's hand.

"Don't worry, I get it," Len says dryly. "The fire-breathing gorgon with snake for hair's a lot less intimidating in person, yeah?"

Thawne flushes a bit, but smiles ruefully. "I think ice breath is the more common story."

"Ice? How would that even work - am I breathing it out in solid form?" Len asks, amused. "Or is it more like sneezing snowflakes?"

"Probably more like an artic wind gust, using the Joule-Thompson effect," Danvers volunteers. "Compressed air through a small opening drops the temperature significantly; that, in combination with saliva acting as a freezing agent, would lower the temperature of the exhale to such a negative degree that anything that's hit by it gets iced over."

They look at her.

She blushes. "I mean," she says. "If he had freeze breath."

"No, I like that," Len says. "That would actually be really cool."

Danvers, far too used to him, groans.

"Was that a pun?" Iris says, starting to grin. "Captain Cold makes cold puns?"

"Captain Cold makes all puns," Danvers says.

"This is a non-discriminatory office," Len agrees.

Thawne snorts, and Len can see him finally starting to relax. "Glad to hear that," Thawne says. "Sorry about my reaction. I'm actually really looking forward to working on this task force; it's my first time leading an investigation without a senior partner."

"Isn't Captain Snart your senior partner?" Iris asks.

"No, I'm his boss," Len says. "That's different. Still, glad you’re thinking that way, Thawne; I'm hoping that you'll be able to take a lot of solo lead on this investigation." He nods at his crutch. "I'm ain't exactly my old mobile self these days."

"Not to mention on a Family hit list," Danvers pointedly mutters to no one in particular.

"A Family hit list?" Iris asks, sounding interested. "Really?"

"I used to do undercover work," Len tells her, a little charmed by how impressed she looks by it. Undercover work didn't allow for much bragging, for obvious reasons. Besides, even if he’d had someone to brag about it to, he'd been too angry to really get any joy out of it before now. "The Families don't appreciate that much."

"That's pretty awesome," Iris says. "What did you do when you were undercover, if I'm allowed to ask?"

"Oh, don't ask him that," Danvers says before Len can reply. "He'll be showing off his pickpocketing skills for days; it's unbearable."

She's grinning, though, and Iris grins back. "I don't know," she says. "That sounds like it could be interesting."

"Could be," Len says, and hands her back her wristwatch to an exclamation of delight. "But we should probably focus on the Flash."

Iris straps her watch back on, grinning even more now. "Yeah, probably. We're still agreed on not treating him like a criminal, right?"

"No, we're agreed that we're withholding judgment pending further investigation," Len corrects. "But yes, innocent until proven guilty's still a thing, if that's what you're asking. I won't hold anything wrong he's done against him until I prove he's done it."

"What's he done to make you think he's done something wrong at all?" Iris challenges.

"Other than being an unauthorized vigilante and however many counts of assault on purported 'criminals' - yes, purported, they're innocent till proven guilty, too - you mean? The disappearances."

Iris blinks. "Disappearances? What disappearances?"

"Serial disappearances," Danvers clarifies. "I've been logging strange events in Central City, and a number of them can be correlated with your map of Flash activity."

"That doesn't mean the Flash is behind them," Iris objects.

"He could be trying to solve them," Thawne suggests, though he looks more dubious than Iris.

"Not exactly his job," Len reminds them. "But that's what we're here to figure out. If the Flash really is a do-gooder, and not involved in these disappearances, then we can see about getting him some legal backing - a badge, and the ethics course that accompanies wearing that badge."

"Ethics?" Iris asks dryly, arching her eyebrows in mock surprise. "In Central?"

"Yes," Thawne says, and unlike Iris he's utterly serious. "Just because lots of people don't have any doesn't mean we shouldn't be aiming to do better."

"You sound like a politico before their first reelection campaign," Len says. "But as it happens, I agree. I love this city, dirt and all, but just because it's always been dirty before ain't no reason to tolerate it. Corruption's the root of all the problems we've got, and it starts with people thinking ethics are optional because this is Central. It might be Central, but you gotta put your money where your mouth is when it comes to ethics or else what’s the point?"

Iris nods, while Thawne looks thoughtful. "You really mean what you say, don’t you?" he says. "It’s not a grudge or anything – you're really trying to clean up the city."

"One traitorous cop at a time," Len agrees, even though it’s not entirely correct: he’s one hundred percent fulfilling a grudge, but there’s no reason he can’t clean up the city at the same time. "Well, assuming the Families - or the cops - don't shoot me first."

“Oh, no,” Iris says. “You’re not allowed to get shot before I get to the bottom of these disappearances and prove you wrong about the Flash.”

Len smirks.

Sounds good to him.

#coldflash #leonard snart #barry allen #kara danvers #iris west #eddie thawne #my fic #an internal affair

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diveronarpg · 6 years ago

Photo

Congratulations, MONA! You’ve been accepted for the role of VIOLA. Admin Kaitlin: There’s no hiding the fact that Valentina has always been somewhat of a fan favorite here at DiVerona, and Mona you certainly delivered our girl to us. The voice you gave to Val in this application was so wonderful, and I loved how much you honed in on the emotional playing field of Val’s internal thoughts. I can’t wait to see where you take our favorite undercover Montague! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Alias | Mona

Age | 20

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her

Activity Level | I’m in Nursing school along with work, but honestly I never sleep and haven’t been in a role-play in a long time, but I loved it when I was in them around two years ago… Basically, I’m really excited to take part in a rug again and write for a character I love, so I expect to be around a lot.

Timezone | PST

Current/Past RP Accounts | Sadly, I have lost track of all my role-play accounts!

In Character

Character | Viola, also known as Valentina Gallo

What drew you to this character? | Looking into Valentina’s history, it’s clear that she had to build a tough shell as she grew up into the world that she did. Having been through what she has, Valentina could have gone two ways… have others fear her, or have them pity her - the latter of which sounds far worse than any other version of hell you could put her through. She’s a strong woman who did what she had to do in certain situations, and will continue to do that for as long as she needs to.

Honestly, I’m a sucker for anything that is even remotely sad - and whether she wants to admit it or not, Valentina’s situation was devastatingly so. To be abandoned as a young child by the people who are supposed to love you for the rest of their lives, that’s not something someone recovers from just because they said they have. I see Valentina wanting to join the Montagues as a replacement for the things she’s lost, even though that’s something that she’s not going to accept for a veryyyy long time. I really want to build on how strong she is despite everything, though, and I really want to be able to develop her relationship not only with her brother but with the people she surrounds herself with. I truly believe she has not let anyone form any sort of bond with her since the night her parents left, and while she’s in no way mopey, in my head she’s just this bitter woman who sees everything in the worst way imaginable because she learned her lesson a long, long time ago.

Just a little extra thing, I really feel like Valentina never had much control over her life in any way, and also never really knew safety in the same way. She wasn’t allowed to have a childhood, nor a normal upbringing. So as an adult, I think every word she says and every step she takes is going to be fully planned, and I feel as if everything she does has to be fully in her control or she just loses it completely. I believe Valentina has a hair-line trigger, where she goes from being completely calm to just exploding all over the place, and while she’s been better at taking control of this anger and using it only when needed, there are still moments where she explodes and will have to disappear for a while to either calm down, or let her anger out in whatever way she can.

Basically, I just can’t wait to be able to unleash just how relentless she can be.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?

C H I L D H O O D D O T T E D W I T H B O D I E S

Forever. It was a luxury Valentina allowed herself to apply to one person and one person alone - Santino. He had lived up to his names meaning, truly a saint as she stood behind him, bathing in sin. Not a single possession could come close to where she held him, not a single man could live in her brothers shadows. There had never been a lie between the two, never been a secret they could not share. Where Valentina is no stranger to walls, she had never built one between herself and her brother.. Yet, she feels herself yearning to be a part of the Montague’s, and while nothing has ever rivaled the loyalty she had for her brother, she had never had anything else so large in her life. She tells herself it’s fine, that a few cracks in the foundation never tore down a house, that a few lies between family would always be forgiven… but with each step, she can’t help the thought that lingers in her mind. What if she’s found the one thing that cannot be forgiven?

Santino leaving her is not something she can fathom.

L E T T H E M G O , L E T T H E M B E G H O S T S

At one point, she’s sure, she must have led a normal life. Yet, that life is so far away now there is no point in dwelling on it. She has no mother, no father, and if you ask her she never did. Faced with them today, she would not be able to pick their faces out from a crowd, as she refuses to acknowledge them in any way. Just because someone made her does not give them the credit for who she has become now. No longer can anything be done to Valentina that she does not allow. When asked what happened to her parents, her response will always be “What parents?”. There were always whispers, of course, as the streets love a morbid tale, and the whispers grew more and more gruesome as Valentina grew more and more cold. Were they killed? Who were they running from? Were the Gallos murdered by those they loved most? Of course, this is all much more entertaining than the truth - that the Gallo parents were plain cowards, who had bitten off more than they could chew. It had always been easy to believe, that they had left willingly, but what if the people she had always hated hadn’t had a choice?

Maybe she did not know her past as well as she thought she did.

M A K E T H E M S T A Y , M A K E T H E M S T O N E

Everybody needs somebody, or at least that’s what Santino says to her every now and then, relentless. Friendship, love, anything besides a lie. Yet, this is not something Valentina sees to be in her future. Valentina is far from naive, she had her eyes open to the world around her from a very young age, and does not romanticize the role she plays in it. Valentina romanticized nothing but the war she wanted so earnestly to take part in. Yet, it is possible that the secrets she is keeping, others are keeping as well. Who is to know what lies others weave, possibly far more intricate than those that she spun from such a young age. She believes herself invincible, untouchable.. but as did Icarus, as he flew straight into the sun. One day Valentina will let her guard down, and likely get burnt for it.

Having shut herself away for so long, wouldn’t it be ironic, for Valentina to allow in the one person who would be her destruction?

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | This is so tough, but depending on the circumstances, yes!

In Depth

In-Character Interview: The following questions must be answered in-character, and in para form (quotations, actions written out if applicable, etc). There is no minimum or maximum limit for your response - simply answer as you would if you were playing the character.

What is your favorite place in Verona?

It was far too personal a question, but to be fair, most questions were. An immediate image comes to mind, and there is no doubt of where Valentina would want to spend her last breath, her happiest moment, her lowest low. Before she was a part of the world, the Castelvecchio Bridge was the closest she was ever allowed to get, a sneak peak into a forbidden world. “What does it matter?” she asked, a sly smile painted onto her lips as she leaned back in her chair, seemingly calm but alert to any prying questions - one couldn’t give too much away. It was her favorite place, after all, and it should be hers alone, not for anyone else to spoil. It was where she had gotten her first glimpse of the forbidden, her first taste of the fight that would have her coming back for more. “I suppose the Twelfth Night Museum will do, if I have to pick a place, but the street life is always far more entertaining than what can be found inside four walls”. Valentina did not indulge in much, this would be hers and hers alone.

What does your typical day look like?

“What is typical?” she asked, a slight chuckle escaping her lips. One persons typical could be another persons extraordinary, and Valentina’s ‘typical’ would not count as that in most people’s worlds. “I start it with Santino, I suppose, as I have for as long as I can remember…” she trailed off, trying to think of a moment in which one of her daily tasks had become habitual instead of just fleeting. She hadn’t given any thought to a question such as this one, and it was a surprise that this is what would have caught her off guard. She could not help but think of the various faces she put on throughout the day, the various roles she found herself stepping into when the situation allowed, a fire burning in the background nonetheless. “I eat where I can, I sleep where I can… I go where the city takes me. I do not limit myself to routine.” she admitted, and for once it was not all a life, they had caught her in a good mood, a rare mood. “I do not limit myself to one thing, I go where I am needed, I go where I please.”

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

Oh, there were so many. The scars that could have been avoided. The jobs that went bad. The beginnings, when she couldn’t steal candy from a baby, let alone enough to get by. It was getting late, the show she was putting on couldn’t go along for too long, better to answer quickly and get it over with, she was getting tired of the relentless prodding. “Missing anyone, who would voluntarily chose to leave.” she shrugged, carefully examining her nails as she let out that vital piece of information, it was no secret that Valentina did not have time for pointless attachment, not anymore. “Time wasted which could have been much more useful doing other things”, the statement was left with a cruel taste in her mouth, and she knew that the smile she tried to put on was far more sadistic than kind, yet maybe that was intentional.

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

There was not much Valentina would not do, she was no stranger to getting her hands dirty for her own personal gain. If others knew, how easily Valentina would turn on anyone (correction, almost anyone), they wouldn’t trust her with a single thing, never their life. “Nothing too difficult, if I’m being quite honest. You do what has to be done, don’t you?” she asked, probably one of the most truthful statements that Valentina had ever uttered to anyone besides Santino, but the question woke up the dark thoughts she kept pushing to the back of her mind. If she were being honest with herself, she would admit that keeping this secret from him was truly the hardest thing she had been asked… but what use is lingering on what is already done.

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

“People disagree, it’s bound to happen… just have to be on the winning side" she sighed, thinking back on the days where she longed to be a part of what she was currently swimming in. “Men have been raging war all throughout history, it did not begin nor end with this one.”

Extras:

Once her and Santino could afford to have a ‘permanent residence’, Valentina found herself obsessing with keeping it clean. Everything had to be in it’s place, not a single thing could go awry inside their four walls. Santino thinks she just needs to be in control, Valentina demands that she just refuses to live in a pigsty.

When they were teenagers, it was always as if her and Santino would take turns being the mature one, and admittedly it was Santino’s turn more often then it would be hers… it’s hard to imagine Valentina being any more rebellious than she already is, but the version of her now is quite tame compared to how she used to be.

Whenever her nights get too quiet, Valentina enjoys going out and creating a new life for herself. It’s easy to tell a drunk tourist your name is “Bella” and that you just love their accent, it’s easy to pretend to be someone else. She’s been doing it more and more, creating different people to become for an hour, for a night, for a fleeting moment. She finds she’s most herself when she’s surrounded by people who don’t know who she really is.

OKAY BASICALLY, idk I love her and I feel like she’s far more damaged than she wants to admit and she’s wayyyy too codependent and I really want to develop her relationship with her brother because honestly it’s great.

thank you for reading all this :)

#accepted #accepted: viola

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