#inspector murder inspects

[unboundtheatre]

Happy New Year!

We'll be back on stage in February, with a new play directed by @erikasandersonactor but in the meantime we've some fantastic archive projects starting up next week!

INSPECTOR MURDER MONDAY - a weekly listeners' club for our sleuthing audio sitcom. Discover the Inspector's madcap adventures, and then delve into a behind-the-scenes blog about each ep.

WEDNESDAY WRITINGS - our creative producer will be sharing more 'Unbound Tales' on our blog, charting Unbound's decade-long history of telling great stories.

FILM FRIDAYS - we're thrilled to be debuting four new films created by Fernando Productions. Revisit some of last year's productions in these weekly films on our YouTube channel.

SUNDAY SOUNDS AND SWEET AIRS - before our next set of Shakespeare audio series begin, we're revisiting the ten we've released so far, including brand new masters of the earliest episodes.

Exciting, eh? And you can find all the info you need on our handy new LinkTree!

[starsinmylatte]

𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚘𝚐

Here is my submission for @kentopedia's wonderful Love Through the Ages collab!

➻ Summary: Trapped in the gilded cage of Victorian high society, you were determined to rebel. You ran the streets in disguise at night and threw yourself into your work as a typist for Scotland Yard during the day, rejecting the label of “quiet, submissive woman.”  Further rebuffing the ideals of your time, you scoffed at the idea of love and marriage, but a certain blonde Detective Inspector always seemed to make your heart flutter. You’re assigned to work a case under him, and your feelings only grow more complicated… but will your budding romance be able to survive one of history’s most infamous murderers?

➻ Pairing: Nanami Kento x afab!Reader

➻ Rating: Explicit (18+, minors DNI)

➻ Word Count: 8.2k

➻ Warnings: Explicit sexual content and Discussions of the Jack the Ripper case/thematic elements related to the case/time period (rape, poverty, etc.)

➻ Song recommendations (in order):

Toxic- From “Promising Young Woman” Soundtrack performed by Anthony Willis  Les feuilles mortes- Jean-Michael Blais The Swan- Camille Saint-Saëns

➻ Author's note: I did a ton of research to make sure I had my details correct, so there are tons of easter eggs hidden in the fic. I had a lot of fun with this one!

Join my taglist here!

Colors flew through the air as you tossed various skirts, bodices, and any other accessories unfortunate enough to catch your ire clear across the room. They hit your quilted bedsheets with an audible thunk as Misato shook her head at your antics, tsking at you from the corner. 

“Love, you’ll be late if you carry on like that. Wipe that scowl off and pick one already.” 

You shot the maid another half-hearted frown, looking as grim as a young woman clad in only her chemise, garters, and stockings could. Misato strode over with matronly confidence, snatching the next garment out of your hands before it could grace the top of the pile. She held the bodice up, inspecting it in the clear morning light before giving a brisk nod. 

“Right then, this will do. It’s posh enough to keep your father happy without all those extra frills and ruffles you hate. Grab that skirt, and let’s get on with it.” 

You did as you were told, albeit extremely unenthusiastically. Misato hummed soothingly, draping the familiar weight of a corset around your waist. This was a dance you knew the steps of all too well. You fastened the busk up quickly before bending down to grasp at the foot of the bed, adjusting your decollete into the supporting garment. Misato tightened the laces systematically, just as she had done for every year you’d been old enough to dress as a woman. 

Standing back up, you moved your body around, wincing and rolling your shoulders as you reacclimated to the squeeze of the steel boning. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, dropping your head in apology at the sight of her soft frown. “I know I’m bull-headed, and I know it only causes trouble for you.” 

With a gentle sigh, the maid slipped a muslin camisole over your head before moving to fasten a bustle around your waist. “I understand, love. But you’re a woman of society, and you’re to dress as such. Now, bear you in mind, I’d rather die than see you in trousers like the men, but I think there’s a middle ground to be found yet.”

You smiled at her, grateful for the affection, “I know, but I’m still glad to hear it.” 

“Who knows… Maybe you’ll finally attract a husband who’ll let you run as wild as you’d like.” The older woman teased you, pinching your cheek affectionately as she slipped several layers of skirt over your head. Her loving prodding pulled an imperceptible flush across your cheeks, and you distracted yourself with the buttons of your bodice. “Lord knows some of those peelers can’t be too horrible to look at.” 

“Love,” you scoffed, choosing to ignore the way your mind immediately wandered to a certain stoic, blonde detective, “is for little girls who still believe in fairy tales.”  

You continued on, selecting a hat from a drawer. “I work because I want to do something important… something beyond embroidery and gossiping at garden parties. There are people out there who need help, Misato.”

The maid laughed softly, pinning your hat at a perfect, jaunty angle. “I’ve known that since you stood at the height of my knee, but I can still hope to see you happy.” 

You bade Misato goodbye with a quick kiss on the cheek, finally venturing out from your family’s warm, comfortable house to wait by the road for your carriage. An icy breeze brushed past as soon as you stepped outside, ruffling through your skirts and causing you to shiver. As you waited patiently, the damp air slowly seeped under your multiple layers of clothing; the strangely oppressive chill only took a few moments to carve beneath your skin like an icy dagger. 

Normally, little birds would flitter throughout the small yards alongside the street, filling your morning commute with their cheerful racket, but there was only silence today. Your only companions were the ever-present fog and smoke that blanketed the city, but today, they seemed so much thicker than usual, making the overcast sky feel even more bleak. 

Thick tendrils of gloom trailed over the cobblestones, swallowing the flickering gas lights one by one. There were no people on your street this early, no signs of life to be seen anywhere. Another shiver shot down your spine, but this time, it had nothing to do with the cold. The world was grey and eerily silent as the fog finally reached you, blanketing your entire body with frigid mist. The downy hairs on the back of your neck began to stand on end; everything felt off… like an ill omen.  

A moment later, the clacking of hooves on the cobblestone echoed throughout the street, and a familiar carriage finally appeared in the gloom. You barely waited for it to come to a stop before you opened the door and climbed in, not caring to observe the proper etiquette. 

“Cold, miss? It’s a chilly mornin’ innit?” The driver chuckled, shouting loudly as he snapped the reins, urging the horses to return to their steady gait. “Don’t worry; we’ll get you back inside soon enough.” 

“Ah, yes… It is a bit chilly.” You smiled and brushed your actions off with a laugh, but the feeling of dread still weighed heavily on your heart. 

Even the horses seemed restless, rolling their eyes and tossing their well-groomed manes back and forth as they plodded eastward. You were grateful to finally see some sense of normalcy as you reached Victoria Street, where people of all ages milled around, setting up their businesses both on and off the street. Shops opened their doors, and street vendors set out their wares, squabbling loudly over placement and price. You smiled wryly as a young boy snatched a steaming pie from the corner of a table, eyes shining with delight as he shoved the greasy pastry into his mouth. He disappeared into the teeming crowd with the shopkeep still blissfully unaware of the theft.

The sight was as endearing as it was heart-wrenching; the cute little boy probably stole out of sheer necessity. If he hadn’t stolen the pie, there was a good chance he wouldn’t have eaten at all today, even in this area of the city. You suddenly felt guilty that you had the privilege of being able to turn down breakfast. 

“So much needs to change,” you murmured, drumming your gloved fingers against the lacquered side of the carriage. Most of the people from the upper crust simply wanted to hide the poor away; their attitude was just to keep them out of sight and out of mind.

Your thoughts continued as you looked off into the alleyways and then glanced eastward to where the worst parts of London were concealed. If your family had their way, you’d have never known those parts of the city existed; you’d have been kept on a pedestal in the opulent West End. To them, all you needed was decorative knowledge meant to accent your pretty face and attract a rich husband, but no one had counted on your tenacity. You had been too intelligent, too fierce of a little girl, always demanding answers from your tutors, rejecting their half-baked excuses about the world and how it worked. 

 Before long, you figured out that not all people grew up similarly. You fished stories out of maids and butlers, learning about how other people suffered in the cruel workhouses and filthy alleyways hidden in the background of the city you loved. But the most appalling thing by far was how little your parents and their wealthy friends seemed to care.  

When you turned ten, you convinced Misato to help you sneak out for the first time, mainly by threatening to go even if she refused to be your accomplice, and from that night on, you began exploring the real London. When your parents thought you were safely locked away in your room practicing embroidery, you were actually exploring the streets wearing ragged clothes “borrowed” from the nearest bin. It was dangerous and wholly irresponsible for a lady like yourself, and if anyone found out, your reputation and life would be ruined forever…. So, of course, you loved it.

“It’s no wonder I ended up here, in the last place a ‘lady’ should ever be.” You murmured, smiling as the carriage finally jolted to a stop outside the stately, brick-and-stone building at 4 Whitehall Place. The driver opened your door with practiced ease, and you entered Scotland Yard’s world of cops and criminals. 

“Odd, there’s so few people here…” You murmured, arching an eyebrow in curiosity as you walked in and reached your desk. 

Typically, the station was filled with men waiting on their orders for the day or waiting to go on patrol. The few men who were present milled about restlessly, and most wore the trademark blue peeler uniform. However, two men were notably different; they were dressed in everyday clothes and stood off to the side of the Chief Inspector’s office. If you didn’t know better, you could’ve guessed they were gentlemen who simply wandered in off the streets. 

“I haven’t seen those two before. They must be detectives.” You pieced together, noting the tension that hung heavily around them. 

The two men were certainly young to be detectives, but one seemed more experienced and slightly calmer than his counterpart. They each wore black frock coats and trousers, but from there, the appearance differed. The composed man had kind eyes and tawny, disheveled hair covered with a bowler hat, whereas his friend sported a red vest, fluffy hair, and no hat. He looked younger and full of nervous energy; for some reason, his hair seemed oddly…. pink?

You sighed, chalking it up to a trick of the light as you set up your desk for the day. In a valiant attempt to neutralize your own nervous energy, you began to clean your typewriter, stealing glances at the young detectives, trying to parse together what was going on from snippets of their conversation. 

“Do you really think- how long will it take?” 

“I don’t know, just wait and see.” 

Suddenly, two more men you did recognize walked into the room without fanfare. Chief Inspector Yaga led a tall, serious-looking blonde man over to the others, and your heart fell through your chest at the expression on his face. Not many of the detectives treated you well, but in all the time you’d worked there, Detective Inspector Nanami Kento had never failed to greet you with a small smile and a polite greeting every morning at the bare minimum. 

This morning, however, his expression could have cut through stone. The stoic man’s lips were set into a cold, hard line, and he didn’t even notice your presence. His dark eyes glittered in intense concentration, and the two young men snapped to attention as soon as he approached them.

Something has happened. Those aren’t the eyes of the gentleman I know… that’s the gaze of a detective entirely focused on his case.

Scotland Yard and its detectives were no strangers to tragedy and brutal events. They carried the weight of investigating the most unspeakable acts people could inflict on each other, but you had never seen DI Nanami look quite this grim. You watched the four men talk quietly for what seemed like ages before they finally walked over to your desk. Chief Inspector Yaga looked you up and down with a critical gaze as if to size you up. 

“How can I help you this morning, sir?” You met his eyes calmly, the feeling of dread rising, squeezing your heart once again. 

“You’ve been with us for almost two years now, correct?” His gruff voice rumbled through you like thunder promising an oncoming storm. 

“That’s correct, sir.” 

“And you’ve never had any-” He paused, gesturing around as if searching for the correct word, “trouble with the cases up until now?” 

Nanami’s chiseled jaw clenched as the Chief Inspector questioned you. He seemed to be looking just past your face, staring at a spot on the wall in a manner that seemed as though he was willing it to spontaneously catch fire. You didn’t try to hide the way your brow furrowed in concern at the question.

“Trouble, sir?” 

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Deep, dark bruises were blooming under the man’s eyes; it looked as if he had gotten little-to-no sleep for weeks. “I know you’ve certainly heard… more than a few disturbing things in your time here. The paperwork you tend to has details of crimes, and you’re around the men every day….  God knows they don’t know when to hold their tongues.” 

You nodded along, still confused and growing exponentially more concerned. His words were true; you’d certainly heard more than your share of gory details from the policemen as they returned from their patrols, whether it was just accidentally overheard or they told you directly as if it would impress you. 

“Well… It is never enjoyable, but I deal with it in the same way the men do, sir.” You pointed out deftly, unwilling to seem fragile. 

Nanami remained grimly silent, but a small smile played across the corner of his lips as Yaga watched you closely. After a moment of silence, the burly DCI sighed again. “Then there’s a job for you. I am about to ask more of you than I would like to, but you’ve excelled at your current position, and this situation calls for related skills.”

For the briefest moment, you could’ve sworn that you saw Nanami’s fist clench at his side. Still, the stoic man stayed silent as Yaga continued on, “You’ll be working under DI Nanami, and your main responsibility will be to organize and keep a running record of the evidence as it comes in. You’re to help them keep track of any papers they need to revisit during their investigation. Other duties will be assigned as needed.”

Yaga nodded stiffly and walked back to his office, shutting the door firmly as if to signal the finality of his decision. You looked up at Nanami with concern, as the man had barely moved since he arrived at your desk; he still looked silently furious. “Are you… do I need to do anything right now?” 

His mood seemed to shift to calm in an instant. “No, nothing right now. I’ll have a file to give you as soon as I return, but I do need to introduce the case to you so that you’re not blindsided when you… see it.” 

Nanami motioned for the two young detectives to step forward, “First, this is DC Itadori, and this is DS Ino. They will also be working under me for this case; if you have any issues and I’m unavailable, you can go to them.” 

The two young men tilted their heads in polite acknowledgment as they were introduced, each giving you a small smile, almost like the one Nanami usually reserved for you.

Ino spoke first, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Even under these circumstances.” 

Itadori nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! It isn’t often we get to work with a-”

“And I think it’s time for us to go secure transportation to the scene. You’ll have to excuse us.” Ino butted in quickly, placing a firm hand on Itadori’s shoulder and hauling the young man away, blatantly ignoring his noises of protest. 

You turned back to the Detective Inspector, whose expression was unreadable as he sighed, “He means well. Please forgive him.” 

A small, reassuring smile touched your lips as you gazed up at Nanami, “I’m not offended, Detective. I’m no shrinking violet and a bit of levity won’t go amiss every now and then.” 

Your small quip made the blonde man chuckle lowly despite the situation. “I’m well aware. But this case….” His expression shifted once again. “I don’t like involving you in it.” 

Hurt shot through you, stabbing through your heart with a dull ache. You had worked alongside him for two years, and he’d never seemed like the other men who constantly doubted your abilities for the supposed sin of being born a woman. You liked this man; you had trusted him.

“Do you really not think I can be of help?” You frowned as indignation seared through your veins.

You must’ve looked truly hurt because Nanami shook his head. “It has nothing to do with ability. You should know that I hold your abilities in high regard, but…” he said softly, “this case- it’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before, and you should never have to see things like this. No one should.” 

Your firey attitude froze instantly, turning to shame as you realized his true intent. “Forgive me, I’m used to….” 

A flush crept across your cheeks as you took a deep breath, smoothing the fabric of your skirt and regaining your professionalism.

Why is it so easy for me to make a fool out of myself in front of you? 

“ I understand,” he murmured, studying the typewriter in front of you with a strange intensity. “You may as well come into my office and have some tea.”

–

It took you no time at all to understand exactly why everyone seemed on edge and why the Detective Inspector was so affected by the case. You had read files of violence, murder, and rape before, but what Nanami had to sit down and tell you was beyond all of that. There was a monster, some sick freak brutalizing and murdering women throughout the streets of Whitechapel. He toyed with and desecrated their bodies, and all evidence suggested that he had acted multiple times and was going to continue unless he was caught or killed. This wasn’t some random act of criminal violence or murder of passion committed by a jilted lover…. this was something only the devil himself could be capable of.

The warmth of the teacup against your hands brought you some comfort, but you couldn’t bring yourself to drink any of the tea. Your stomach roiled violently; you were suddenly immensely glad you’d skipped breakfast as Nanami softly explained what had happened to the women and the events that led to Yaga deciding that you’d join his team. 

“They found another body this morning,” he spoke plainly, but his deep brown eyes roamed over your face, his expression full of gentle concern. “Worse than the last, even.”

You glanced at the thick file in front of you, your stomach lurching as your eyes landed on the sketch of the previous victim. If it was only growing worse… God, you couldn’t even imagine…. The room suddenly felt too hot, your corset too constricting as you leaned forward, fighting the bile that rose in your throat. 

Nanami was by your side instantly, his large hand warm and soothing on your back as he knelt beside you with surprising grace. “If you don’t want to do this…. I understand. I swear I do. Just say the word, and I’ll have you home.”

It took a brief moment, but you swallowed thickly and straightened up, your eyes glittering in determination as you gazed down at the kneeling man. “No. I can’t- I won’t- sit idly by, knowing I had a chance to help, even if it’s just in a small way.” 

An entire moment passed as the two of you stared into each other’s eyes. Nanami rested his hand on yours for a brief moment, giving it a gentle squeeze, and you could feel your brain short-circuit. You were much closer to a bachelor than society would deem appropriate, but the desire to uphold proper values wilted against your need for comfort. 

The moment was over quickly, and the Detective stood, brushing dirt off his tan pants. “It’s time for me to head out to the crime scene. I’d like you to use my office while I’m gone.” 

Nanami gave you an achingly soft smile, the exact smile you had craved before he tugged his coat on, slid his unique, round glasses into place, and left the room. 

–

Weeks turned into months, but the monster who called himself Jack the Ripper still hunted the women of Whitechapel. It didn’t take long for the press to run with the story, drawing more attention to Jack than his victims. An endless flow of letters and tips began to pour in every day, and the monster had even penned a few himself, mocking the police for not being able to catch him yet. 

You spent every day working beside Nanami, who insisted you move into his office, claiming you could work more comfortably there. The attraction you felt towards the stoic detective grew as you spent more time with him, sharing the intimate workspace. He was always so busy and stressed beyond measure, but he was unfailingly kind and considerate of you. In return, you went above and beyond your assigned duties to care for him. You ensured that Nanami ate as regularly as possible, brewed him tea when he was having a particularly hard day, and provided him companionship. 

You had always known that Nanami was intensely intelligent and focused, but he truly gave all of himself to this case. Unfortunately, the Ripper seemed to be a shade able to pass through walls for all the helpful clues he left behind. You watched, feeling utterly helpless, as the pile of bodies grew and the dark circles under Nanami’s eyes deepened. Despite putting on a brave face, he seemed frustrated and permanently exhausted; if you had to guess, he even slept at his desk some nights. 

As the case progressed and even more women were killed, Nanami made it a point to make sure you were safe, even though you lived on the opposite end of London from where the murders occurred. You reassured him that you’d be fine, but he still gifted you a small firearm, a Derringer, that you kept tucked in your handbag every single day as both a good luck charm and a deterrent. The detective also insisted on escorting you home at night, and on the rare nights he was unavailable, he sent Ino or Itadori in his stead. 

However, most nights, you only waited inside for an hour or two before sneaking back to the streets. You were convinced the people who frequented the bustling pubs and taverns of Whitechapel had to have more information. Many people weren’t keen on sharing any information with the police, but you knew they’d talk amongst themselves and certainly to a pretty girl at the bar. You knew it wasn’t smart, but you were determined to help in every way possible; too many women were living in fear. However, a small part of you did know that you were also desperately trying to ease Nanami’s burden. 

Even though you were determined, you still felt incredibly guilty about the situation. It would undoubtedly drive Nanami mad with worry if he knew what you were up to, but you promised yourself that it was safe enough, that you’d always sneak back home before nightfall. You had even planned only to visit pubs on Whitechapel Road itself, knowing that proximity to the main road made your outings safer. Weeks passed as your covert outings continued without a hitch, but one night, everything changed. You had been far too distracted by the bartender you were conversing with, and before you realized it, the sun had fully set. You might’ve been right on the main road, but you were alone in Whitechapel after dark, where the monster was certainly lurking in the shadows.

Every bump in the night made your heart seize in fear as you started down the street, desperately heading back toward safety. You managed to make a decent headway, but the sound of a familiar voice stopped you dead in your tracks. Nervously, you glanced around to find DC Itadori at the building right in front of you, blissfully unaware of your presence as the young man chatted with a passerby.

You knew that the proper thing to do would be to approach him for help, to admit that you had made a mistake, but you couldn’t ignore the small voice in the back of your mind that whispered, “You know he’d tell Nanami, right?”  

Telling DC Itadori would be bad enough, but the thought of his mentor being disappointed in you or even hurt by your actions made your heart lurch. 

“It’ll be just a quick detour,” you promised yourself as you turned and headed down the closest alleyway.

Your journey was fine for the first few minutes, but it didn’t take long for you to garner unwanted attention. Your dress lacked the finery you usually wore, but it was still the dress of a respectable woman, and this dark alley was no place for any woman. Drunken men leered at you from every shadow, trying to coax you closer. You ducked and weaved your way out of their clumsy attempts to grab you, but you were forced to run down alley after alley to avoid them. The familiar weight of the Derringer that you’d tucked into your garter was the only comfort you had as you fled deeper and deeper into the heart of Whitechapel. An icy chill crept down your spine as you grew painfully aware that you’d gotten lost in the maze of alleyways. 

Thick, oppressive fog curled throughout the already cramped alley as you hurriedly turned the next corner, only to hit a dead end. Your blood ran cold, and tears of exhaustion and fear ran down your face as you glanced around, desperately trying to figure out where you were, but it was useless. The fog was too dense, and you were too lost. Two sets of footsteps were still following you. You could hear them approaching faster and faster,  and you shrank back into the corner in fear, reaching under your skirts for the cool metal of the pistol as a last resort-

Suddenly, you heard the sounds of a brief scuffle around the corner, followed by the sickening crunch of a nose shattering. A man yelled out in pain; you could hear him sprinting back down the alley as another voice rang out into the night, “Miss, are you alright?” 

You could’ve wept at the achingly familiar, husky tone as your Detective Inspector appeared out of the gloom, lantern in hand. 

“I seem to have made a mistake,” You managed weakly.

Nanami froze instantly at the sound of your voice. He raised the lantern to illuminate your tear-stained face, and a look of sheer horror broke over his handsome features. You crumpled against the wall, and the Detective Inspector rushed forward to support your body, his strong arms cradling you with breathtaking gentleness. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked quickly as his gaze scanned you over systematically, desperately searching your body for any sign of injury. 

“No, just cold, afraid….. and more than a little ashamed. Thank you for saving me.” You admitted meekly, fighting the urge to lean into his warmth. 

Nanami groaned audibly in relief, tipping his head back as if thanking god. His arms tightened around you slowly as he embraced you, holding you against his broad chest while you shook with latent fear. You flushed furiously as you reciprocated his embrace, drawing enough comfort from his presence for your heartbeat to calm. 

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, voice low and soothing. “let’s get you somewhere safe, and then you can tell me why you’re out here.” 

“I can’t go home. It’s too late; I won’t be able to get back in until morning when my maid returns. Perhaps I should rent a room here for the night? No one will know me this far out. I do have some money.” You rambled, trying to keep from crying even more.  

Nanami sighed, stepping back slightly to look into your eyes. “I’m not leaving you out here alone. It won’t be ‘proper,’ but I’d like to take you somewhere where I know you’ll be safe.” 

You felt a pulse of clarity flow through you, and you placed a hand on his muscular forearm, gently squeezing it in reassurance. “I trust you.” 

The detective’s warm, brown gaze softened as he saw the honesty written across your face.

“One more question, then. Do you think you’re up to walking? I could carry you, but that may draw more unwanted attention.” 

You shifted on your feet, testing them out. “I think I’ll be alright.” 

Nanami smiled down at you before deftly unfastening his tan, woolen greatcoat. He draped it over your shoulders with heartbreaking gentleness, ignoring your mild noises of protest as he secured it around you. 

“It’s cold tonight,” was all he said as he offered you his arm.

You held onto him tightly, instantly comforted by his solid frame and the quiet strength Nanami carried himself with, even in a tense situation like this. You had never been more terrified only moments ago, but now you felt safe and protected, almost warm despite the cold air around you. 

“Thank you…. It is quite comforting.” You murmured.

Nanami smiled down at you briefly before guiding you through the maze of alleyways, letting you dictate the pace. Funnily enough, the fog seemed to dissipate as the two of you walked down the streets of London together. You could see the stars twinkling above you, and if you didn’t know better, the two of you could’ve been a couple out on a nighttime stroll together. 

Time passed quickly as you walked together in comfortable silence, and soon, you arrived at a comfortable-looking townhouse near Bedford Square. Nanami unlocked the door without any preamble, ushering you inside out of the cold. He led you up the stairs into a tastefully furnished drawing room with a beautiful bay window that overlooked a moonlit garden.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” he encouraged, leading you towards a plush settee. Nanami busied himself with lighting the ornate fireplace as you curled up against the arm of the furnishing, still wrapped up in his coat. You snuggled against the soft wool, surreptitiously enjoying how it smelled of his fresh, woody cologne undercut with the deeper scent you could only describe as his. 

As soon as Nanami finished tending to the fire, he began to pace around the room in a manner you knew meant that he was thinking deeply about something. 

“What is it?” You asked softly, almost afraid of the answer. 

He took a deep breath and stopped pacing, turning to look at you. Nanami’s expression held no anger as the firelight flickered across his face, but a profound sadness filled his beautiful brown eyes as he spoke, “I don’t think you understand what it would’ve done to me if you were the next body found.” 

You dropped your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as Nanami continued his pacing, “When I realized it was you in the alley, I- I thought the absolute worst had happened.” 

He ran his hands through his hair, pacing even more frantic as he tousled the normally neat blonde strands. “You must know by now…. You have to know…”

Nanami turned to you once again, dropping his arms to his side in defeat. “I love you.” He rasped, voice raw with emotion. “I’ve known for months. I didn’t think I could court you properly until I caught this bastard, so I didn’t say anything. You don’t deserve to be associated with me if I fail, but after tonight, I just can’t take it anymore. I understand if you say no, if you need a better man, but-” 

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. In the blink of an eye, you flung yourself across the room and into his arms. Nanami caught you in surprise, scarcely able to believe he wasn’t dreaming as you clutched desperately at his sides. Uncontrollable tears fell from the corners of your eyes as you gazed at him in unabashed adoration.

“I love you too,” you confessed, “ I don’t think a better man exists.” 

That was all the encouragement he needed. Nanami smiled lovingly, softly as he leaned down to press a slow, feather-light kiss against your forehead. You sighed in bliss, and the detective breathed deeply as if he hadn’t had fresh air in months. Months of stress and fear melted away from both your bodies, the negative emotions paling in comparison to the warmth of your love. Nanami ghosted more kisses across your cheeks and nose, taking his time to savor every inch of your beautiful skin before finally pressing his lips against yours. 

The kiss was soft and sweet. Your eyelashes fluttered shut, and you acted purely on instinct, leaning further into his embrace. One of Nanami’s strong, steady hands moved to cup your waist, holding you like precious china as your lips parted from the chaste kiss. As you shared another intimate breath, his other hand slid under your chin, tilting you forward to capture your lips again. 

“Marry me.” He mouthed against you, voice rough with emotion. “Let me protect you, love you, worship you. I want to hold you in my arms, to keep you by my side until I die.” 

“Yes,” you nearly pleaded, clawing at the material of his blue vest in an attempt to somehow pull him closer. “Kento, please…. I’m yours.”

He groaned desperately at the intimacy of his first name on your lips as his hand moved from your waist to wrap around your back possessively. Nanami trailed his other hand to cup your jaw as he kissed you even more passionately, almost devouring you whole. You had kissed before, but it was only mild, adolescent flirtations with boys you didn’t bother to remember; it was nothing like this. This kiss was searing, threatening to burn you from the inside out if you stopped for even a second. Your chest lay flush against Nanami’s, your body moving against his in a way that made his trousers grow uncomfortably tight. 

Nanami realized instantly and broke the embrace, stepping back to hide the way his cock strained against the fabric. The desirous look in your eyes and your attempt to follow him nearly shattered his resolve completely, but he touched your shoulder gently. 

“It will get increasingly hard for me to remain the gentleman you deserve if we continue.” He warned breathily, a light dusting of pink gracing his cheekbones. “If you need, I can go stand outside until morning.” 

A whimper left your kiss-swollen lips. Your body ached in a way you’d never felt, craving the sweet burn of his touch in places you’d rarely explored yourself. The world felt hazy and syrupy as you tried to regain your mind, but it was a futile task. Your breasts felt heavy, your nipples sensitive as they rubbed against the fabric of your chemise. 

“That’s not what I need,” you pleaded, and Nanami shuddered. 

“Can you tell me what you do need?” He murmured, taking a tiny step towards you. 

“Kento, I-I’ve never done this before,” you stammer, blushing furiously and shrinking back in embarrassment. 

Immediately, Nanami is at your side, holding you tightly once again. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, darling. I wouldn’t love you less either way. All it means is that we’re on equal footing here.” 

He pulled you into another hug, intent on soothing you further as your mind spun. 

“You’ve never….?” You questioned softly. 

“No,” Nanami murmured, “I haven’t been with anyone.” 

“That does make me feel better,” you admitted, biting the swell of your lower lip. “What I’m feeling right now is new…. strange, even. I want you to touch me so badly that it hurts.”

Nanami groaned again, pulling you against his broad chest; he could easily feel your heart racing, and he wasn’t faring much better. 

“Do you want me to touch you now, or do you want me to wait?” He asked, voice deadly calm. 

“I think I’ll die if you wait,” you pleaded, pawing against his vest again. 

He chuckled roughly, grasping your wrist and pulling it to his lips. Your breath hitched as he kissed the tender skin of your pulse point, savoring the way your pulse raced under his touch. Without further preamble, Nanami reached down for your skirts, slowly drawing the fabric up past the soft leather of your garters. He reached down, tracing up your thigh with his fingers until they caught the cool metal of the Derringer, which you had completely forgotten about. 

Nanami tugged it free as he kissed you once again. He smiled into the embrace, pulling you with him as he stepped over to set the small gun on a nearby table. You glanced at him in astonishment, unsure how he had known. As soon as the firearm was safely put away, he scooped you up into his arms with another soft laugh, “Darling, what kind of detective would I be if I didn’t know?” 

You smiled up at him, “I suppose you do have a point, darling.” 

He sighed in bliss as you turned the affectionate nickname against him. You traced your hands up Nanami’s broad chest greedily, slipping them over his shoulders for support as you leaned in for yet another desperate kiss, unable to sate your desire for his lips. He somehow managed to walk and return the kiss at the same time, only stumbling slightly as he brought you into another room. 

You giggled against him, and he smiled, devouring the sweet sounds and eager to hear more. Nanami leaned down, setting you gently on his large bed. He pulled back to gaze at you in utter adoration, loosening his golden cravat and undoing the buttons of his blue brocade vest. He discarded them both, leaning forward to cage you between his arms as you drank in the sight unashamedly. 

“You know it isn’t proper for me to see you in just your shirtsleeves yet,” you teased, snaking your hands up his arms and growing bold enough to nip at his bottom lip. 

“I don’t think anything that we are about to do is too ‘proper,’” Nanami smiled affectionately as he circled his hands around your corseted waist, pulling you forward to sit at the edge of the bed. He unfastened your boots, caressing your stocking-covered feet gently as he set your shoes to the side. Afterward, his hands returned to your waist, meeting in the middle to trace over the small buttons of your green bodice. 

“May I?” He implored, voice low and breathy with anticipation. 

You nodded, biting your lip nervously. “Please.”

Nanami’s deft fingers began to undo button after button, exposing the other layers of clothing underneath as he went. You’d chosen to forego wearing a camisole, as none of your outerwear was fine enough to need protecting, so he was immediately met with the sight of your corset and the lip of your chemise beneath. The silken chemise you favored was thin enough to be nearly transparent, and Nanami’s breath hitched at the sight of your pebbled nipples peeking over the top of your corset. 

He knelt slightly, enraptured by the sight of your breasts rising and falling with every breath you took. Nanami stared at you ravenously as his breathing grew heavier. You blushed prettily, shrugging the bodice off as the once-stoic detective’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. His hands dug into the fabric of his duvet as he fought the urge to caress and kiss every part of your body. 

“I want to explore every part of you with my hands and tongue,” he confessed with a groan. “I can’t hold myself back much further, but promise that you’ll stop me immediately if I make you uncomfortable.” 

You noticed the pupils of his brown eyes were blown wide and dark with lust as he looked at you, fully enraptured but waiting for your response. His expression forced an involuntary whimper to tumble from your lips, and the heat in your core spiked once again. 

“I promise, but please… I didn’t think I could feel something like this.” You begged sweetly, guiding his large, warm hand to rest on the swell of your breasts.

He caressed the area gently, watching your face as his clever fingers explored your soft curves. You sighed in delight as he squeezed and traced the barely-covered skin, prompting him to investigate further. His fingertips grazed your nipple, and your back arched instantly, mouth parting in a perfect “O” at the waves of pleasure that shot through you. Nanami’s gaze grew half-lidded and hazy; he squeezed the small bud in response, and you outright moaned as your core clenched in need. 

“Feels good?” He purred, utterly shameless in wanting to learn your pleasure. 

You nodded vigorously, unable to speak, as you pulled his other hand to your back. He knelt on the floor, pulling you to stand over him as he reached around to unfasten your skirts and small bustle. They dropped to the floor, and he leaned forward to pepper kisses across your stomach and the tops of your thighs. You couldn’t feel his lips directly for the corset and chemise still in the way, but you could feel the warmth of his body close to yours. The intimacy of him kneeling before you, kissing your body so hungrily, made you throb with need once more. Acting on pure instinct once again, you began to rub your thighs together, desperate to relieve the ache.

He reached for the strings of your corset, successfully untying the knot. Nanami felt around for a moment before leaning back to look the silk and leather garment up and down. The detective chuckled lowly, “Would you mind helping me, darling? This is the first I’ve dealt with a corset, and I’m afraid it’s not as straightforward as the other layers.” 

You gazed down at him in adoration, guiding his arms to grasp different parts of the lacing. 

“Pull here…. and here.” You murmured, and the corset loosened under your combined ministrations, finally becoming loose enough for you to unfasten the busk. 

Nanami watched breathlessly as it fell. He grasped the hem of your chemise, the final major barrier separating him from your soft skin, and rose from his kneeling position to pull it over your head. Finally, you stood before him fully topless, and he shuddered in desire as he removed your drawers. 

He picked you up again, setting you back on the bed to work on the layers of his clothing. You whined in protest, wanting to undress him as he had explored you, but he simply shushed you, only speeding up his movements as he spoke through gritted teeth, “Darling, I promise you that we will have ample time for you to undress me later…. but right now, I need you, or I’m going to fully lose my mind.” 

Nanami was barely able to choke out the words as he threw his shirt aside, granting you a beautiful view of his muscular chest and the smattering of honey-blonde hair that covered it. His arms were just as well-built, and you bit your lip once again, squirming on top of his sheets as you watched him. Nanami hooked his fingers into the waistband of his trousers, drawing your attention to a patch of coarser blonde hair that trailed down his lower stomach, hinting at what you’d see next. 

You felt hot, fully and shamelessly filled with lust as you stared at the outline of his thick cock tenting the fabric. Nanami groaned as he saw your reaction, palming his erection as he started towards you, only clad in his trousers. 

“Lay back for me, darling,” he cooed, guiding you onto the mattress. It dipped beneath his weight as he joined you, running his fingers over your leather garters. He pulled them down with his teeth, pressing kisses to the bare skin that forced a litany of moans and pleas from your lips as he rid you of your stockings. Dimly, you realized the space between your thighs was sticky with your own arousal. Nanami realized a split second after you, trailing his fingers up to your core after disposing of the garters and stockings. 

“You’re beautiful, gorgeous…. Perfect.” His deep voice rumbled against your ear as he traced his finger through your folds. You shivered and moaned in response, your legs falling open even further, begging for him to explore more. He slid up on the bed next to you, leaning down to kiss your bare, sensitive breasts as he toyed with your soaked cunt.

Nanami carried on like that for a few minutes, noting that you grew the most desperate as he circled the small pearl of flesh at the top of your sex. He caressed it, noting with no small amount of satisfaction that his ministrations made you beg for more and whimper his name. Tension coiled in your stomach as he gently circled the puffy bud and kissed you passionately, relishing the taste of his name on your lips. It didn’t take long for that tension to snap in your stomach like an elastic band, and your back arched off the bed as you came hard. 

He growled praises into your ear, teasing his fingers into you as your cunt spasmed around nothing. “My future wife… a goddess.” 

Your eyelashes fluttered shut in a moment of discomfort that soon gave way to the blissful feeling of being filled. There was no pain as the other women had complained of; your world was a haze of syrupy bliss as your lover prepared you with his fingers, gently stretching your velvet walls. 

Nanami rutted his hips against the bed, delaying his own pleasure until you were ready for him to truly fill you. The two of you moaned and sighed, almost in sync. 

“You’re so soft and wet,” he cursed under his breath. “I won’t last much longer… Do you think you’re ready?” 

You leaned up to kiss him passionately, mouthing your desperate assent against his lips. Nanami unbuttoned his trousers, unclothing his lower half in record time as you lay back against the sheets, eyes fully glazed over with lust. He spread your legs, slotting his hips between them, and you felt the swollen tip of his cock kiss your needy sex as he positioned himself properly. The two of you were panting, moaning together like animals in heat as he pushed in slowly, desperately trying not to hurt you. You cried out at the stretch, digging your nails into his back, the pain pulling another guttural moan from your lover. Any discomfort quickly turned to blinding pleasure as he sank into you fully.

Nanami paused arduously, his cock twitching, desperately begging for him to move. 

“Tell me… when.” He forced the words out through gritted teeth, his expression almost a grimace as he fought the urge to thrust into you. 

The warmth and pressure of his body, the feeling of being stuffed full, the feeling of his cock twitching inside you… It was all too much. Your fingers scrabbled at his back, desperate for purchase, as you whined, high-pitched and needy in response. “Now, please- oh, God. Need you now.”

Nanami groaned as he began to move his hips slowly, dragging his thick cock along your velvet walls. He began to move slightly faster as you writhed beneath him, your mind too sex-addled to form a coherent thought or sentence as his swollen balls slapped against you. 

Your future husband fucked you slowly but thoroughly, filling the room with the salacious sounds of your lovemaking. A familiar tension began to build in your core, and Nanami groaned as your walls squeezed his cock. Unlike earlier, there was almost no warning as you shot straight over the edge of a mind-shattering orgasm, and you cried out desperately.

Nanami growled and cursed against your neck as your cunt milked his cock, desperately begging to be filled. 

“So close. Need… need to pull out.” He rasped, almost whining as he left the plush warmth of your sex. You watched him in a lust-filled daze, melting against his sheets as Nanami leaned back, furiously stroking his cock. He grunted and moaned shamelessly, hips still shallowly thrusting against his hand as he desperately sought bliss. His head tipped back as he panted; you could see a beautiful, rosy flush color his chest and neck, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch of it. 

Nanami’s thrusts started to falter from their original pace, and you watched, wholly enraptured, as his brows furrowed and his perfect mouth fell open. He came a moment later with a hoarse cry; thick ropes of his seed coated his hands and stomach in spurts. He stroked his cock a few more times, fully milking out his orgasm before collapsing on the bed by your side. You both lay there in silence for a few blissful moments, basking in the warmth and security of each other’s arms.

“I love you,” you whispered, breaking the silence with a smile. 

“I love you too, my darling future wife,” Nanami murmured back, entwining his hand with yours.

Tagging some friends: @pseudowho @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty @unoriginalidea @cindyneko-strider @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @akiiireix @tojispookiebear @dangoank0 @ifuckinghateschool @barryatsumu @voids-universe @mahgyu @themoonmonologues @byul9158 @starlitnotes @makingtimemine

[shyday-ao3]

1000 scribbled words to nowhere, a Ripper Street mini sickfic offered up as brief distraction from the events of rl. apparently this is what i'm doing for novella november. hopefully someone enjoys it.

Jackson's not in the best mood when he gets to the crime scene, having been rousted rather rudely from his bed. Another body, the uniform had said, refusing any further detail. The kid was green in more than just experience, but he'd gotten his point across and stood firm behind it. The American was summoned. To decline an unacceptable option.

He greets Reid and Drake without really looking their way, not bothering to temper his annoyance. There's a headache lurking behind his eyes, the result of too much gin and not enough sleep. His focus is only on the body and how quickly he can get out of here. He crouches beside the dead man, already pretty damn sure of the cause of death. Drake wanders off into the adjoining room.

Reid clears his throat. "Strangulation, then? As with the others?"

"Yeah, and you didn't need me here to tell you that."

"Perhaps not. But, as you are here, I wonder if you might not do your job and see if he has anything new to share with us."

Jackson prickles under the tone. "Sure, Reid. Simple as that."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I need to get him to the deadroom where I can do a proper autopsy. Meaning I could've just as easily met you at the station in a couple of hours. Meaning I didn't need to be dragged from–" The litany is interrupted when he glances up to see that the inspector has a white-knuckled grip on one of the wooden chairs. "Reid?"

"Mmm?" The response is as distant as his gaze. Jackson frowns, gets to his feet.

"You feeling all right?" It's his first good look at the man since he got here, and he doesn't like what he sees. Pale yet sweating, eyes red-rimmed and shadowed. He touches the back of his wrist to Reid's forehead. "You're burning up."

"Irrelevant. We have work."

"Sit," Jackson says. Surprisingly, Reid obeys. "Your wife let you out of the house like this?"

"My wife… has other concerns." He stares through the body on the floor. It takes him a long moment to blink. "As do we." He makes no movement to get up.

"Symptoms, Reid."

"Irritation," he murmurs. "Impatience."

"Funny. Nausea? Cough? Dizziness?"

"Captain. It is a minor inconvience. Right now we have a murderer to catch; your talents would best be served toward that end."

"Lucky I can handle focusing on both. Why don't you let me and Drake finish up here, and you can head home?"

Reid shakes his head. "Impossible."

Jackson lights a cigarette. "Gonna take me at least a couple of hours for your autopsy. I can send someone with word when I get it done."

"No," Fingers rub at his forehead. "If this is indeed part of a pattern, we have seventy-two hours until the next victim is found. There is no time to waste."

"Ain't nobody suggesting we do so. Just a break, Reid."

Drake returns to the room; Reid pushes to his feet. "Unneccessary, Captain. Sergeant, report."

"A boot print in the outer room. Looks could be a match for the one found at the first scene."

"Show me." They exit the room together.

Jackson turns back to the body, resumes his superficial examination. Defensive wounds on the hands; a new development, and one that gives him hope he might find some evidence under the man's short fingernails. He's inspecting one of those hands in the light from the window when he hears the sounds of a scuffle in the next room.

"Reid? Drake?"

No answer. The room devoid of everything but the disturbed dust settling in striated sunbeams. The door is ajar, however; Jackson draws his pistol and pushes through. Out front he finds both of his colleagues. One empties his stomach onto the cobblestones beside the stairs.

"Christ, Reid. Go home."

"No." Bracing himself with an arm on the brick wall, he holds a handkerchief to his lips. "There's a killer stalking my streets."

Jackson shares a look with Drake. Shrugs. "Well I'm ready to get out of here whenever you are."

Pale as paper, Reid rests his head on his arm. "Very good," he exhales, as if his breakfast wasn't splattered on the ground in front of his feet. "We go to Lehman Street." He doesn't look particularly inclined to move.

"Sure, Reid. Whatever you say."

Two hours later, he's finished the autopsy; a scrub and a smoke and he's headed up the stairs to Reid's office. The blinds are closed, as is the door. With a perfunctory knock, the captain lets himself in. The inspector's head comes up from the desk so quickly that it rustles his papers.

"Jackson." It's rough, slowed. "You have news."

"Not really. Just that your killer might be sporting some fresh scratches courtesy of our man downstairs." He slumps into the chair on the other side of Reid's desk. Lights a new cigarette. "Not much use for finding him, but it should help if you do."

Reid groans, rubs his eyes. Two bright spots high on his cheekbones – the only color to his face – tell Jackson that he's still got the fever. "Nothing else?"

"Oily spot on his sleeve, near the elbow. I'm cooking it." Tugging at his tie, the inspector clears his throat. Swallows. "You gonna be sick again?" Jackson asks.

"No." As if he can simply will it to be so.

"If you don't plan on going home, why don't you make use of that cot you've got there." He nods toward the small bed. "I'll tell Artherton not to let anyone up."

Reid looks at the cot for so long that the captain thinks that he might give in. "No, I…"

"Any break in the case and I'll be right up here to get you," Jackson adds "You have my word."

A moment more and he nods heavily, a testament no doubt to what ails him over Jackson's persuasive skills. The American doesn't care.

He sees Reid settled. Closes the door.

[crimeronan]

On the topic of Luz trying to find every ethical legal non-murdery way she can of messing with Amity's parents.

I'm just imagining her staying up at night, trying to think of *evil plans tm* to mess with them (she's being very serious about it, note book on the bed like she's a normal teenager doing normal homework and all) but when she gets Hunter to double check her ideas he is grossly disappointed in the most loving and positive way because he knows how Luz is.

Hunter was hoping for burning down the factory or throwing them in prison on trumped up charges. But he looks through it and it's all relatively reasonable legal reforms.

Stuff like workplace health and safety laws (with inspectors instructed to place Blight Industries under constant scrutiny), shifting the tax burden to wealthy over the poor (with perhaps slightly obsessive auditing from the BI version tax office) ending the contract to buy murder robots from them to cut off one of their key sources of income. Raising the minimum wage and granting workers significantly more rights. Passing a law singling them out by name giving Darius the power to shut them down at any point for inspections if he deems their products to be of poor quality.

Odalia and Alador (mostly the former) only really care about prestige, power and wealth, and Luz wants to hurt them by taking all of that away in a way only a wise and beloved ruler can. Just pulling out all the stops a reasonable-ish government can to screw over a business empire and erode its reputation in the eyes of the public. Whilst avoiding all of the dictatorial associations of just having them disappeared.

Imagining what might happen if Amity finds this notebook, she doesn't say anything, she just adds more notes on other laws and ideas that would burn their fortune to the ground.

(sorry if this is too long and rambly)

this is hilarious. hunter is like "i can't believe you aren't even Blackmailing them" and luz is like "it hurts more to strip their power in broad daylight." hunter's like "these are all legitimately good reforms. but if you wanted to be evil you could just arrange an 'accident,' you don't have to be moral about it" and luz is like "why would i kill them. if they're dead then they don't get to see their empire crumble"

hunter, raising an eyebrow: i see you're feeling Really Normal about belos today.

luz, swatting at him: MY DESIRE FOR SUFFERING HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HIMMM >:( LET!! ME!! BE!!! EVIL!!!!!

[anim-ttrpgs]

A.N.I.M. Adventure Art: Benadetta (not to be confused with Burnadette)

Art by @theblackwarden

Meet Benadetta. Benadetta is a 30-something-year-old OSHA inspector who used to chain smoke but now vapes(this is mechanically important, it’s why she has very poor Athletics and other Physical skills and also is tied to her “Comfort Item” Trait.).

This art has been posted here with permission as part of A.N.I.M.’s Adventure Art initiative in our TTRPG book club.

Benadetta is a PC from Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy by A.N.I.M.

If you’d like to join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club, you can find the discord invite on our website.

If your art fits he parameters outlined on this post, and you’d like it featured here, tag us or post it in the book club’s Adventure Art channel on discord.

If you’d like to support us and get a prerelease copy of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, check out our Patreon! Our Kickstarter is planned for launch in April 2024!

Mild spoilers under the cut, details kept vague so as not to spoil the adventure module this we are using for this adventure, it's a Call of Cthuhlu adventure module (Eureka is compatible with those without much tweaking!) not one of our own.

Benadetta was the one who OSHA inspected the warehouse that then blew up like a week later, inciting the mystery. She feels like she could’ve been responsible for the explosion by not being thorough enough and that’s why she went out of her way to try and find out the cause—along with this weird woman, Yvette, whom she thinks is a V:TM LARPer(she went on like one date with a guy like that in college who also never broke character) from the Internet she met on r/warehouseexplosions.

Investigation ensued.

They found out that Benadetta was not responsible, it was actually a bomb, and this is part of an organized crime thing that much later they have discovered is a radical cult.

Also this weird woman from the Internet has been buying Benadetta things at the drop of a hat, like meals and a whole form-fitting biker suit that costs like $600(was part of a disguise) and Benadetta has been...not discouraging her at all.

Benadetta has been losing Composure rapidly throughout the adventure and is now constantly hovering between 0 and 2. Yvette is...really bad for the Composure of people around her.

The problem is that regular people restore 2 Composure at the end of every day, plus composure from the comfort of fellow investigators. However, Yvette just plain cannot do this. She has a -4 in that skill.

She found out a little more recently that 1. Yvette is a real vampire. and 2. Yvette murdered three armed organized crime enforcers with hardly a second thought when left to her own devices. This brought her Composure down again.

In the morning of the most recent session they went to an architect’s house to get some blueprints, only for Yvette to be lured away from the living room and blasted apart with a shotgun by one of the guy’s assistants with a shotgun upstairs(that’s a whole story), while the other assistant attacked Benadetta with a knife and cut her arm open.

Yvette showed back up in the nick of time, now holding that shotgun, and punched the teeth out of the knife-wielding assistant.

It turned out that the architect had no idea about any of this, the assistants were members of the cult whose job it was to spy on him, and murder anyone who showed up asking about those blueprints.

After visiting an Urgent Care for the knife wound and Yvette treated Benadetta to an expensive meal after Benadetta basically snapped at her and insisted she owed her for dragging her around into involvement with a deadly cult, so they went to a nice restaurant.

They later went to Chili’s after Yvette left Benadetta alone for a few hours to lay on her bed and cry at 0 Composure.) Oh and also Benadetta owns 4 pet rats that she cried with. She has not allowed Yvette to see them.

They had to go to Chili’s because through some cyberstalking they found out a member of the cult frequents it and Yvette thinks this specific guy has information and might even be receiving a bomb to deliver to a certain location soon. (Yvette wants that bomb so she can drop it in the mailbox of the cult HQ, which is something I think Benadetta doesn’t fully realize.)

Benadetta, however, only came along meaning to be moral support while making Yvette do all the work. Benadetta is just getting drunk on watered down bottomless appletinis. But, even drunk, she is quickly realizing what a mistake it was to send Yvette to talk to this guy alone.

Because Yvette’s Interpersonal skills are -3 or worse almost across the board.

Benadetta ended up having to pull Yvette away when Yvette wasn’t checking her text messages (texts like “HE IS TRYING TO FUCK YOU”) and try to talk a mortified Yvette into proposing a ‘ménage à trois’, so that they could get this guy to bring them home and get him even more drunk so they could just search his house. Yvette *could not* do it so Benadetta has to call him over and say it herself while seductively unbuttoning her dress shirt—despite looking almost literally as disheveled as one can look in Eureka(0 Composure) and being drunk and even failing the Seduce roll resulting in her belching loudly and then dying inside, they were just two-drunk-beautiful-women-proposing-a-threesome-to-meathead-dude-out-of-nowhere enough to pull it off and get him to take them home.

I think Benadetta could’ve done anything short of shit her pants and this guy would’ve still taken them home.

[chaos0pikachu]

I've been watching Detective Conan and every episode has been some flavor of: Ran, Conan and Mori attend a recording of Guy's Grocery Games, they meet the contestants who all hate that one bitch Jessica who runs a fusion fondue sushi restaurant in Ohio making Conan immediately sus. The recording starts, during break all the contestants talk & Jessica says some fuckshit before walking off ohohohohohoh-ing because they're gonna win Guy's Grocery Games b/c of nepotism. The recording restarts and suddenly someone screams omg Jessica's been killed in aisle 5 by the canned baked beans!

Inspector Gadget is called in.

Mori says it was an accident and Jessica slipped on a banana peel which broke her neck, case closed. Conan however notices a mysterious green onion clippings on the body b/c even tho he's 10 yrs old the police continuously allow him to inspect dead bodies and flit about active crime scenes.

Conan loudly asks about the strange green onion clippings leading the police to suspect MURDER. Mori and Inspector Gadget notice that Nicola, who's been Jessica's longtime food competition rival in the cheese sushi space was cutting green onions at her station clearly she's the killer!

Conan is still sus and then notices a clue that no one watching at home will see or understand. He tranqs Mori like a cat going to the vet for fixings; Mori falls on the directors chair asleep which no one questions. Conan hides underneath a food station and reveals the crime.

The true killer was Caleb! The seemingly kindly Chopped winner/j-pop idol because Jessica killed his younger sister by serving her mozz cheese which his sister was allergic too but Jessica refused to compromise on her flavors. For some reason Caleb could never prove this to the police so he had to take matters into his own hands and kill Jessica by covering the can of baked beans she always used in her sushi recipes with sesame oil which she was highly allergic too.

Caleb falls to his knees crying, Ran cries as she does every episode because she's an empath, Conan steps out from under the food station and thinks, "the price of eggs may be high, but the price of murder is higher"

Next week! Ran thinks Conan is Shinichi for the 50th time will she find out or be gaslit again? Meanwhile Conan must figure out who murdered Ms Lovett; was it truly the ghost of Toshiro Mifune??

[beardedmrbean]

A man has been charged after a stabbing spree that left four people dead and several injured in Rockford, Illinois.

Four people were killed, while seven others were injured, in the attack across “multiple scenes” at around 1.15pm on Wednesday.

Rockford Police Chief Carla Redd said her department received multiple calls and that when officers arrived, they found three victims deceased, while another was declared dead on arrival in the hospital.

Those killed were a 15-year-old girl, a 63-year-old woman, a 49-year-old man and a 22-year-old man.

“We have a suspect in custody who is being interviewed at this time,” Chief Redd said on Wednesday, adding that they did not have any other suspects currently.

On Thursday morning, it was reported that 22-year-old Christian Soto had been charged with multiple counts of murder/intent.

Winnebago County Sheriff Gary Caruana told reporters that they were dealing with various addresses in the area.

One victim had multiple stab wounds to her hands and face, the Sheriff said, adding that a Good Samaritan who came to help her had also required medical treatment.

It was reported one of the victims was a mail carrier, with the U.S. Postal Inspection Service confirming this toThe Independent on Thursday morning.

“The Postal Inspection Service can confirm that a United States Postal Service (USPS) letter carrier was one of the victims in yesterday’s incident in Rockford, IL,” a spokesperson said. “At this time, there are no additional details we can provide, as this is an active investigation. Postal inspectors are working with the Rockford Police Department in this investigation.”

In a statement released to My Stateline, Rockford Mayor Tom McNamara said city leadership was shocked by the “horrific act of violence.”

“We can report that the suspect is in custody and the threat has been neutralized,” Mayor McNamara said. “Now that he is in custody, our primary concern is ensuring that our community members directly impacted by this violence are supported throughout their healing and recovery.

“We have multiple jurisdictions working on multiple crime scenes to develop an understanding of what transpired in an effort to prevent this from happening again. We will continue to provide updates,” the mayor said.

While law enforcement are expected to give an update around 11.30am local time, a vigil to remember the victims has been planned for 2.30pm at the intersection of Charles Street and Eggleston Road in the city.

The Independent is the world’s most free-thinking news brand, providing global news, commentary and analysis for the independently-minded. We have grown a huge, global readership of independently minded individuals, who value our trusted voice and commitment to positive change. Our mission, making change happen, has never been as important as it is today.

[unboundtheatre]

Inspector Murder Inspects...

If you haven't heard the escapades of Inspector Murder, then here's your chance to discover a truly side-splitting audio sitcom.

Prepare to meet Victorian London's second-best consulting detective, his trusty second-in-command, his genius bondsman, and his psychopathic housekeeper...

If you like Wooden Overcoats and Victoricity, why not give us a try?

Stream and download the first episode of Inspector Murder Inspects... - part of the Unbound Theatre Podcast - for free now:

[illegally-blind-and-deaf]

Tintin and Poirot AU but it's not what you'd expect

A news report announcing the death of the wonderboy Belgian reporter Tintin catches not only Hastings interest, but also Poirot's, though no one can guess why. Perhaps it's because his murder was similar to two other murders in Europe; one in Yorkshire and the other in Paris. Blunt force head injury and a slit neck.

But, things get interesting when Poirot is inspecting the murders and find himself at a nearby hotel in London, where one of the bellboys is mysteriously familiar... it bugs the detective, though he cannot think why the youngster with dark hair and blue eyes would have crossed his path. The only thing found in the suspect's room was a tiny teddy bear, its ear apparently cinged off. A toy Poirot had seen before, many years ago.

It was his first failed case, a murder in Belgium. A renowned reporter and detective killed along with his wife, then incinerated in a house fire. The only thing that survived was the cinged teddy bear and their son, barely 3 years old. Valentin Huyghebaert, a curious young boy who's stay with Poirot was only supposed to be temporary. He became his ward.

It wasn't until Chief Inspector Japp called him to the police station to question an arrested subject who was found digging around near one of the crime scenes.

The bellboy, but, without his uniform and lowered gaze, Poirot immediantly recognised the boy as his own ward, though his honey ginger hair had been dyed to a darker brown. He had apparently been living in London under the pseudonym Hubert Valentine; a bit on the nose, but it worked. But, Poirot mused, there was one small mystery: the boy had been one of the victims of the murders. How had he survived? A long story. He pulled out the bear. Valentin recognised it immediantly. It was his own, the only souvenir of that horrific night. Yet, as Japp began to question Valentin on how he knew the bear, the boy's eyes went wide and his hands began to tremble. "The murderer," he whispered, "he's the same as the one who killed them. He slit their throats, I'm sure of it."

The game shifts. This is no longer a new murder case. It is an old one, one that is reopened as Poirot tries to redeem his past self, and Valentin has been disguising the wrong part of himself. There are two faces to this boy, and the world knows one, so he put the other on instead, only to realise that this was the person they had tried to kill.

They stage another murder, this time the murder of Hubert Valentine to explain his sudden disappearance. He stays at Poirot's flat and enjoys his time with Miss Lemon, who is surprised to discover that he drinks tisane. (Only Poirot knows that Valentin is his ward; everyone else simply knows him as the victim of this strange case.)

By the time Poirot us ready to reveal the murderer, he has a trick up his sleeve. It is a full moon. The guests are seated in the sitting room. Poirot begins to recount the day he met Hubert in London, which ultimately led him to discussing the origional, first murder in Belgium. He pulls out the teddy bear, sits in near the window, and asks the teddy bear to recount the events that happened with that murder. It does. But, behind the curtains, waiting for the moment to strike, is Valentin, the true voice of the teddy bear. Poirot asks if there was a survivor. The bear confirms. Poirot asks for the lights to be turned off and pulls back the curtains. There, silhouetted against the moonlight, is what everyone assumes is the ghost of Hubert Valentine. Poirot asks who the murderer is. The ghost utters a single name. The murderer, panicked by the spirit in the window, flings himself to the window, but is stopped by a hand against his arm and a gun to his head. The lights are switched back on: Hubert is not dead.

They explain that it was staged, to hide the true identity of Valentin. But, his third identity is revealed, the more famous one, as Valentin recalls the night he was almost murdered. A blow to the head that almost knocked him unconscious but still left him able to fight, and a quick slice at his neck. It was a cut, but it was not deep, so he went to the nearest hospital, demanded that they sat nothing, and soon went to London to seek the help of his guardian. But where was he murdered?

In Brussels, Belgium. Hubert Valentine, the bellboy who happened to be Valentin Huyghebaert, the ward of Poirot was also...

Tintin, the famous boy reporter.

No wonder he was so marvelous at solving mysteries.

Hastings was aghast, finding out that nor only was Poirot in charge of a teenager's life, but said teenager was also the famous Tintin?

And so Poirot explains how originally, Tintin's supposed "murder" led the police to believe that the murderer had killed the reporter, not the son of the original victims. The teddy bear had been the clue all along; without it, Poirot would not have redeemed himself and the boy would almost likely be actually dead.

It worked out well. Tintin and Hastings had a marvellous time recounting their adventures, and Poirot enjoyed the little trio back to Belgium to make sure Tintin arrived at his flat safetly.

[gbhbl]

Horror Movie Review: Phenomena (1985)

Jennifer arrives at a boarding school, where someone is kidnapping and murdering girls. After her roommate Sophie is killed, Jennifer uses her telepathic connection to insects to find the killer.

Phenomena is a 1985 Italian giallo-horror film directed and co-written by Dario Argento. After missing a bus in the Swiss countryside, a 14-year-old Danish tourist, Vera Brandt, tries looking for help. She comes across a cottage and is attacked and beheaded by a stranger. Eight months later, her case is being inspected by forensic entomologist John McGregor and Inspector Rudolf Geiger of the…

[sporesgalaxy]

had a dream that I was almost murdered by a butler

me and some family and some ppl who were strangers (to me, but i think friends of my grandparents) were all invited to like a fancy party at a mansion previously owned by distant relatives of some of the people I didn't know. We ended up trapped inside for a whole year and some of the guests began disappearing and were definitely dead. it turned out that the groundskeeper who invited us had been a butler to the original family that owned the place since he was like a child and he never had any other job and felt that they'd essentially robbed him of having his own life. so he murdered all of the original family and was now trying to I guess kill everyone related to them because he was unable to define himself in any way outside of his relationship to this family.

it was very tragic but also I ended up escaping because like. God I wish I could remember the stupid title this guy had. Ok first of all, on the first day we were there, this guy showed up. He was like...the door inspector or something stupid like that. This mansion had a very hsavy sliding front door instead of a normal hinged one, so when it was locked it was like impossible to break down. And I guess it needed annual inspection. So it's inspected the first day, then the butler locks it and we all have no escape because the windows are nonexistant or fake or something wow yippeeeeeee. A year passes and it's door inspection day again while the butler and a guest are mysteriously missing (he's definitely murdering them somewhere). The door inspector unlocks the fucking door, I happen to be at the entryway with one other guy (one of the people I'm not related to) and I Immediately stick my head out and tell the Door Inspector to "CALL 911. PEOPLE ARE DEAD CALL 911 NOW." Because I'm just very desperate for literally anyone to know what's happening in there. So he calls 911. Also there was no goodnplace to mention this but the door inspector has a little brown terrier with him both times. Not sure what that has to do with inspecting doors at all but he just does.

Anyways while he's ons the phone, I start trying to decide if I should just run for it to make sure help comes and risk murderbutler having my family as hostages, or if I should go try to get my family to leave with me and risk murderbutler locking the door again while I'm gone. Thankfully I wake up before I have to decide.

But then I fall back asleep and I'm dropped into the same dream where I did decide to just run out to make sure we get help and I'm trying to drive my stepdad's truck away with the rando guy who was with me. Batman villains are suddenly present for no reason just walking through the neighborhood and then I wake up for real.

[funwithshoujocosette]

SC abridged, episode 4: Marriage and more

Fantine: Sure is nice having a stable income again.

Madeleine: It's just me. I am doing a surprise inspection of my property to make sure nothing similar to the last incident happens again.

Javert: And where he goes, I follow. Not that I am a homosexual or anything, I am just doing this because it's my duty to work myself to the bone for whoever has a position of authority, whether on a minor scale or on a major scale.

Narrator: Does that mean you would follow Gabriel if he were to occupy a position of authority?

Javert: Certainly.

Narrator: Huh. *scribbles down some notes*

Fantine: *speaks quietly while looking at Javert* I will murder you in your sleep.

Madeleine: All right, my surprise inspection is completed, and so I will be taking my leave.

Fantine: Wait. I want to speak to you in private. It's about...ah...sensitive stuff.

Madeleine *unsuspecting* Certainly. Follow me, then.

Narrator: They go inside of an empty room and come out after a little while. Fantine is beaming and Madeleine is staring into space, stoically.

Javert: What did she say to you?

Madeleine: She asked me to marry her, as I am the only decent man she knows. I am not wholly opposed to the idea, to be honest.

Javert: And that shattering sound was the sound of my heart being broken into million tiny pieces. Thank you.

Narrator: You deserve it for opposing Gabriel and his companions.

Javert: Their views are humbug.

Madeleine: However, our wedding needs the best man. Would you agree to be one, inspector?

Javert: *internally* You want me to be the best man at the wedding of the person I have feelings for? *out loud* Of course. *is screaming internally*

[ukrfeminism]

5 minute read Numerous opportunities were missed to recall a sexual predator to jail in the days before he stalked and killed law graduate Zara Aleena in east London, a watchdog has concluded.

Probation inspectors say a series of “concerning” errors were made surrounding killer Jordan McSweeney’s release from prison, including a miscalculation of the risk he posed to the public.

LBC revealed in November that McSweeney, 29, had been recalled to prison just two days before he attacked the 35-year-old in Ilford on 26 June 2022.

McSweeney was handed a life sentence and jailed for at least 38 years following Aleena's murder.

Police said within hours of him being recalled, officers attended an address linked to McSweeney to arrest him, but he wasn’t there. 

Now, in a damning report, the chief inspector of probation says he should’ve been called back to jail four days earlier, after he missed a second probation appointment.

Justin Russell said: “The Probation Service failed to take prompt action in respect of recalling him to custody. Once that decision was made, there were also delays in signing the paperwork to initiate the recall.”

He told LBC: “While it is impossible to say whether he would’ve been brought back to prison before Zara was murdered, what we can say is that if he had been recalled earlier the opportunities for police to arrest him and bring him back to custody would have been maximised.”

McSweeney had only been released from prison nine days before he carried out what a judge described as a "terrifying and ruthless" attack, just minutes from Zara Aleena’s front door, leaving her to die on a nearby driveway.

A court heard the killer grabbed her from behind before he repeatedly kicked and stamped on her head and body, before sexually assaulting her.

The attack lasted nine minutes and resulted in 46 separate injuries. Ms Aleena was found struggling to breathe and later died in hospital.

Mr Russell’s review found McSweeney’s risk of causing serious harm was underestimated and that it should’ve been escalated from ‘medium’ to ‘high’ based on information surrounding his history of violence and behaviour while in custody, including the possession of weapons

He had 28 previous convictions for 69 separate offences dating back 17 years including burglary, theft of a vehicle, criminal damage, assaulting police officers and assaulting members of the public while on bail. 

He also had a history of violence towards ex-partners and was handed a restraining order for an offence against a woman in 2021.

Other inspections of local probation services in London have also found inaccurate classifications of risk – with around seven percent of medium risk cases found to have been underestimated.

Mr Russell told LBC: “Clearly the balance between medium and high-risk assessments isn’t as accurate as it should be. There are high-risk people who Are being missed and assessed as being medium risk.

“Two-thirds of the murders that are committed by people on probation are committed by people who have been assessed as medium-risk. That has to be a worry.”

The report comes just a week after the watchdog laid bare another litany of failings by probation officers before Damien Bendall murdered three children and his pregnant partner in 2021.

The inspectorate said the Probation Service's assessment and management of him, "fell far below what was required", and he was handled by officers who weren't sufficiently qualified and experienced.

Two members of staff faced disciplinary action over the case.

The Ministry of Justice says one member of staff has also faced disciplinary action in relation to the handling of Jordan McSweeney’s release from prison.

But concerns are being raised that recommendations from reports into the probation service aren’t leading to any major changes.

One key issue that is yet to be addressed is an improvement in communication between prisons and the probation service, while staffing levels are also causing major issues with officers complaining of workloads being “unmanageable”.

Susan Hall AM, chair of the London Assembly Police and Crime Committee, told LBC: ““We need to support a large-scale recruitment campaign, because when you are so short of staff and the churn is so unbelievably high, you’re never going to get officers working at their best.

“The Probation Service is vital as one of the cogs that turns to try and get people back into life after criminality and when it goes wrong, it can go horribly wrong, as has been evidenced here.”

Andrea Simon, Director of the End Violence Against Women Coalition, said: “This grave and appalling failing on the part of the Probation Service constitutes yet another way in which the criminal justice system is catastrophically failing to protect women and girls and prevent further violence and abuse. 

“No one wakes up one day and decides to murder a woman. There are almost always indications and often prior contact with the police and the criminal justice system, which begs the question of why these incidents aren’t taken seriously, and why more isn’t done to intervene and save women’s lives? 

“It is simply inexcusable that the government doesn’t invest time and resource into prevention work, including managing perpetrators and preventing offending from happening in the first place. It is deeply shameful that Zara’s death, like so many other women’s, was entirely preventable.”

The Probation Service says it has accepted all the Chief Inspector’s recommendations in both McSweeney and Bendall’s cases and put in place robust action plans, to strengthen probation practice and better protect the public.

Prisons and Probation Minister Damian Hinds apologised to Zara Aleena’s family for the failings made by probation officers.

He said: “We are taking immediate steps to address the serious issues raised by the Jordan McSweeney and Damien Bendall cases. This includes mandatory training to improve risk assessments, implementing new processes to guarantee the swift recall of offenders and we have taken disciplinary action where appropriate.  

“We are also investing £155 million a year into the Probation Service to recruit the thousands more officers who will deliver tougher supervision, protect the public and ensure these sorts of tragedies can never happen again.”

[masterofrecords]

Angstober day 2: Anxiety

Wreving

It was late enough that Nate let himself take a swig from the flask he kept in his desk drawer. No one would see – if there were any perks to being chief police inspector, it was getting his own office.

Frankly though, he hardly felt deserving of all that space.

Even the case that had landed him the promotion, the explosion at the University, didn’t seem as resolved as it was on paper. The arrest had been utterly bizarre, and mostly the result of work of that detective woman – and perhaps some other, stranger forces.

Something was wrong with his city – if it was even his – and Nate didn’t know what it was, didn’t even know where to start trying to understand.

Nate wasn’t a superstitious person. He was never one to be fooled by charlatans and magicians, didn’t have his fortune told even for fun. He prided himself on his rational thinking.

But there were strange things happening, things where he felt left out. From his big case being suddenly taken from him once he had the perpetrator in custody, to the persistent rumors of monsters seen in the city and around it, he kept grasping at straws trying to figure out if there was some bigger conspiracy at play or if he was finally going mad after the years of service.

“Inspector Russel?” a young constable cracked the door open, eyes so wide with confusion that Nate forgot to tell him off for not knocking. “Sir, uh, there’s been… an incident.”

“What now?” Nate frowned. “A murder?”

“No, sir, uh…” the constable looked behind him and slid inside the office, hat clutched tightly in his hands. He shuffled closer to Nate’s desk and continued in a lower voice, “We’re getting reports that, uh, all the trains have stopped.”

“In Wreving?” Nate couldn’t hide the bewilderment in his voice. “A strike?”

“No, it’s like… they all suddenly stopped working,” the constable kept getting more and more flustered. “All of them. The Orchis workers are inspecting the ones still on the Wreving station, and if anything happened outside of town, well, I imagine it would take some times for the news to reach us. Because the trains aren’t working. Sir.”

It was tempting to leave this to the Central department. A problem of that size, it was probably up to them, no? But the train station was also in Nate’s jurisdiction, and in all the – granted, not many – years that there had been a railroad in Wreving, Nate hadn’t heard of a single case of a breakdown.

With a sigh, he got up to get his coat. Could it have been sabotage? How many trains did they know for sure were affected? Was the problem only with the locomotives? Were the civilians in any danger?

The door burst open once more, another, significantly sweatier constable stumbling in.

“If this is about the trains, I’ve already been informed,” Nate scolds him, irritated, but the constable shakes his head and takes a moment to catch his breath.

“There are… machines!” he blurted out. “In the university district! Human-like machines! Around Hope Street, but they’re on the move.”

More hurried footsteps sounded in the corridor, and Nate braced himself for more bad news.

Perhaps he should have retired when he still had a chance.

[the-story-forge]

⚠️Warning this story has extreme graphic adult content, viewer discretion is advised! ⚠

Chapter 1 - The Shadow

Suffocated streets, crowds of people, millions of them wandering, going about business as usual, the horrors lurking around every street corner posed a threat. Gangs of murderers, rapists, and drug dealers infected the alleyways of Midnight City. Among them, one man walked the alleyways briskly, he was late for a very important meeting. The man looked over his shoulder and then pounded his fist on the door. A slot in the door opened, and a dark pair of eyes peered in.

“Were you followed?” the set of eyes asked.

“No," replied the man taking a look over his shoulder once again.

A few notches unlatched and clicked as the door was unlocked and opened for him. When he thought the coast was clear he entered the soggy brick building as the door shut and re-latched behind him. He was indeed being followed. Being observed from a distance by the silent watcher of Midnight City, an individual who took it upon himself to clean scum like these Hedge sellers from the city once and for all.

The Sparrow kneeled on the building overlooking this alley, watching the door become locked once more. His lips grimaced, he pulled the hood over his head and the mask, cheaply sewn into the sides of the hood, over the bottom half of his face concealing who he was from the world. The skylight on the roof of the building glistened catching his sharp gaze, and he cocked the wrist hooks fastened to his forearms.

The Sparrow got up, one leg than the other he began to back away from the roof's ledge and took off jumping, his boots carried him to the edge and left its safety, tasting the breeze through his mask. The Sparrow began to fall towards the alleyway sidewalk. He aimed the wrist hook towards the top of the brick building and flicked his wrist shooting the grapple, hooking to the side of the building. He flicked his wrist, and the cable began to retract, pulling him towards the roof. Grabbing for the ledge he pulled himself over it flipping onto the roof. The cable unhooked from the building and retracted into the wrist hook, The Sparrow re-cocked the wrist hook moving to the skylight into the room down below five men, guns in hands and cigarettes in mouths, product out for anyone to see.

“Hedge sales are at an all-time low,” one of the men, looking to be in charge, broke the foreboding silence between them.

“It's hard to find customers when a man in a mask is beating the shit out of your customers," the other got up into his face, speaking in a cold annoyed tone.

“Your boss doesn't have the balls to inspect the outlet himself,” He closed his mouth, speaking almost in a whisper to the man in his face.

"Let me remind you that Calin Cassidy, runs 150 plus Hedge outlets across Midnight City, 500 plus in Diamond City, and 300 more in Jade City, do you really think the head of the most infamous crime family, in the world has time to inspect every fucking Hedge outlet under his control just to put dumb ass dealers like you in the ground?" He took out his pistol in held it up to the man's forehead pulling the trigger, painting the wall with blood. The body fell to the ground and leaked into the cement.

"That's why he hired the inspectors like me," the man put away the pistol smiling at the body.

The Sparrow reached inside his bag, removing several smoke pellets from inside. He opened the skylight and activated the pellets, dropping them down into the room below. A constant beep echoed; they exploded, encasing the room with the non-lethal smoke and creating controllable chaos to his advantage. The men shot their guns out of fear. He smiled behind his mask and put his bag on.

The Sparrow dropped below, grabbing the first man and holding his neck tightly in the crook of his elbow, until he was knocked out cold. Without missing a beat, The Sparrow did the same to the next. He moved through the smoke with a record pace grabbing his next victim, incapacitating him along with the others. Then the next, holding him between his arm and body until he felt the body stop struggling and fall limp to the ground. That left one, the one intentionally saved for last, the one he had spent hours tracking to this outlet, and the one he was going to interrogate.

“You have made a mistake coming here Sparrow,” The man drew a knife, attempting to lunge at The Sparrow, he turned and grabbed the extended forearm holding the knife. With minimal effort The Sparrow snapped his arm. Understandably, the man screamed with pain. The Sparrow grabbed him by the neck and threw him against the wall getting close to his face.

"The mistake was leading me to Calin Cassidy's drug outlet."

“I knew I was being followed,” the man admitted.

"Then why lead me to the outlet, wouldn't Cassidy be angry if he knew one of his dealers lead me to another Hedge outlet?"

“I don’t work for Cassidy," the man attempted a laugh, but The Sparrow tightened his grip suffocating him.

"Who do you work for?" The man said nothing to this, and The Sparrow grew frustrated taking hold of his other arm snapping it, and the man howled with pain once more.

"I’m sure you are aware I’m the type to not play games," The Sparrow gritted his teeth behind his mask.

"A shadow from your past," Spluttered the man with immense pain.

"Who!" Screamed The Sparrow slamming his fist right next the man's face.

"Left sleeve," the man looked down gesturing with his head for The Sparrow to roll it up.

The Sparrow gripped the arm and rolled up the sleeve. Curling around the arm was a tattoo of the "白龍" or White Dragon.

The Sparrow’s black makeup-stained eyes widened. He gritted his teeth and the man just smiled; The Sparrow let the pain in. He pounded his fist into the man's face over and over again, blood spouted from his nose and mouth and the man eventually fell limp. The Sparrow tossed him aside like the garbage he was.

Blood stained his boots and gloves, glistening from the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. The man's pained breaths bubbled and staggered, he fell over in a pool of his own blood.

The Sparrow took a breath to steady of himself and cocked the wrist hook leaving the outlet for the incapable police force of Midnight City. He had to wrap his around this, and maybe get some sleep.

Written by Phoenix Rose

Characters and Story Created by Phoenix Rose

A Story Forge Production

[magnetictapedatastorage]

there are at least two potential backstories of chiyonshoh (the tajik (ssr) spy), in terms of how he came to be an “accidental murderer”

the older idea goes like this: he was involved in gang activity as a young man, and planted some seriously compromising shit in a snitch’s home so that he’d stop being seen as a trusted witness. except, after the cops find out, the snitch is killed by them. oops!

the newer idea is that he lied/cheated his way into a job as a kind of safety inspector, and after taking a bribe and not inspecting a worksite, there was a horrific accident that killed one person. chiyonshoh becomes obsessed with the idea that someone will eventually find out “it’s all his fault / he ‘killed’ him” so he has a panic attack and goes on the run, while in reality the cops even don’t know he exists, because there was no record of who ‘inspected’ that particular worksite. 

the newer backstory fits more.