KIM KITSURAGI - “Is that. My kineema.”
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Something in him is about to break, *big time*.
EMPATHY - And it’s not going to be pretty, do something!
- DRAMA [Formidable] - Everything is fine!
- “Sure is.”
DRAMA [Formidable: Failure] - Surely he’s aware that he’s not the *only* person in the world who owns a Kineema?
YOU - “Is it really *yours*? I mean, plenty of people have their own Kineemas, right? Like working men, government offices, uh, firefighters I guess, maybe even animal control people? Exactly! A million different people who could’ve driven it into the uh…”
DRAMA - Pause, my liege! Ixnay on the Ineemakay!
YOU - “It could even be our *mysterious* joyrider!”
KIM KITSURAGI - Your frenzied babbling falls deaf to the lieutenant's ears. Instead, he approaches the broken vehicle, sunken in the ice. He moves with a caution and gentleness you haven’t seen him display before.
INLAND EMPIRE - It must be cold and lonely down there, in the icy water. Maybe he could sense its sorrow, calling to him…
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - His hands, which are always stiffly placed behind his back, are trembling.
ENDURANCE - This is the shuffle of a tired, tired man.
HALF LIGHT - He’s going to do something drastic because of you. Oh god, terrible! You’re a terrible liar! You can’t look at this, you just can’t!
VOLITION [Formidable: Success] - It's not *you* who drove his kineema into the sea. You have plenty of faults, but this one is decidedly not yours.
KIM KITSURAGI - He kneels down with his head bowed, casting his face in shadow. He plants a hand on the ice to stabilize himself, squinting to get a better view of the motor carriage. “Detective, it says ‘57’ on it.”
YOU - Sweat drips down your brow, and you feel a terrible headache coming. “Maybe our joyrider has an affinity for that number?”
LOGIC - He's not stupid, he knows that it's not that.
KIM KITSURAGI - “57.”
YOU - “What about 57?”, you brace yourself.
KIM KITSURAGI - “Precinct 57.”
YOU - You wince. “Kim, look-”
KIM KITSURAGI - “When I woke up in the Whirling-in-Rags with no memory of what happened during the days before, I've taken note that something of mine has gone missing.” He grits his teeth. "A very. Important. Something."
He runs his hands over his face, messing his already unkempt hair in the process. Regret creeps up on his features. “God. Fuck. They’re going to fire me over this, they’re not going to hear me out.”
EMPATHY - Desperation settles in the lieutenant's tone. Sadly, you find yourself in agreement, even if you don’t want it to be the truth.
YOU - “People are more valuable than machines, Kim.”
KIM KITSURAGI - “Not people like me.” He rasps.
YOU - “…”
KIM KITSURAGI - Before you can say anything more, you fail to notice the lieutenant carefully walking onto the edge of the ice. He looks over the frigid water, a dizzying blue that mirrors and distorts his exhausted face back to him.
YOU - “Kim?”
KIM KITSURAGI - Seconds pass as he looks to be contemplating something. Out of nowhere, he casually takes another step where the ice ends and the sea begins. It happens all too quick for the lieutenant to even voice a call for help— if he even wanted to — his body plunging into the cold water before your eyes.
YOU - “KIM!!!!”
uhhh bonus stuff? sorry i have swap au brainworms pfttt
(im not sure what skills kim has at the moment so rn he only has narration as his inner monologue ok whoops, i would like to keep harry as the guy who thinks in dialogue trees so im still figuring it out pfttt)
also, this was done bc i wanted to expand on these old scribbles of mine, just like an idea, i just think that he'd be having an even worse time wheezes
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random hc but. crowley being a plague doctor in the 16th/17th century bc he's supposedly "tempting people into death" but he can never, ever bring himself to actually do that so he ends up soothing their pain as best as he can and comforting them in their last moments. one night, after he held a little girl's hand as she passed away, he sits down at the banks of the river thames, with his plague mask discarded on the dirt, and he starts out over the water with tears in his eyes, wondering what the fuck is actually the point? it's not the first time he's asked himself the question nor the first plague he witnessed but, here, now after personally witnessing hundreds of deaths every day, he really wonders what actually is the point of him? why does he exist and why should he keep existing. why does he get to live when so many others don't? how is that fair? how is any of it fair? that's how aziraphale finds him, as he just got back from an assignment somewhere or other and hears crowley is in town, so he discreetly looks for him and finds him there, sitting in the dirt, now with his head in his hands, his shoulders silently shaking and is obviously immediately worried but doesn't know how to comfort him or what's allowed so he just sits beside crowley and watches him try to pull himself together. aziraphale's heart breaks, he put what happened together from the mask and the robes and he obviously knows about the bubonic plague but was convinced it was hell's doing and couldn't have even imagined crowley was out there everyday, helping people under the guise of hurting them. is he surprised? no, of course not but it still hurts to see crowley like this. but he's afraid to cross their unspoken rules so he quietly waits crowley out. he watches the water and doesn't dare look at crowley as he lifts his head and takes a few shaky breaths in. after a few minutes of breathing, crowley croaks out "her name was mary" and nothing else, and aziraphale understands, god he understands. it's one of the things they never speak about after it happens but aziraphale can't forget the night he sat with crowley for hours, till the sun came up, as he cried about a death of one little girl. he holds it close to his chest and never, ever forgets.
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