#local bitch gets her just desserts lmaooo

[conkniving]

let the record show that FALLON AMARIN was read their rights before the interview proceeded. FALLON AMARIN DID NOT CHOOSE to proceed with a lawyer present at their discretion.

spidery fingers crawled underneath the approaching-shoulder cut of fresh blackened hair, palming a '13' permanently stenciled into the back of fallon's neck under the guise of alleviating an ache borne of agitation for the current setting. incidentally, she had only ever stepped foot inside a police station in order to usher another out — now it seemed her luck had finally run dry.

please state your legal name for the record.

the urge to bite was only abated by the faces of the investigators ( two of them, sure to be more ) as they loomed over her seated stature. don't you already know who i am? merely became, "fallon amarin. no middle name."

can you account for your whereabouts on the evening of june 10th, 2023?

a shrug, momentary lapse of a tongue running over teeth. she tossed her head in the direction of the case file on their side of the brutalist-styled table that she presumed already had records of her whereabouts. "probably working. take your pick: the black dog motel or the scaredy cat club's liquor store. then home."

why did you volunteer to join in on providing supplies for the search parties? do you have a personal connection with ms. cho-iverson?

arms crossed defensively, earthen eyes fluttering up at the faces she would surely forget after this was all over and done with. "what, you think i did it? i don't know this chick from the next asshole on the street. i helped out in any way i could because there was finally something to do about the shit your sorry excuse for a 'serve and protect' force keeps failing to prevent. even your search parties wound up with injuries — should've been your overfunded and under-skilled fuckers out there!"

ms. amarin, are you aware that you have eyewitness accounts placing you on the scene for the past six months that anchorage has recorded harrowing events?

hands flew into the air in a display of utter disbelief, one falling to slap the table with a crack of skin that unfortunately did not serve to flinch either of the investigators. "no shit, i fucking live here. you gonna interrogate the rest of anchorage with that astounding evidence? jesus..."

can you explain the presence of your creation that won the competition last december, found at the scene of the crime on december 31st, 2022? we have reason to believe that you crossed paths with ms. cho-iverson on the scene.

it was as though they plucked a taut, exposed nerve just to toy with fallon. synapses were fast, and she recognized that her spare second of hesitance trying to regain her composure looked suspicious. it wasn't her fault. they were staring at her for too long, they weren't even blinking. there were sure to be more spectating behind the two-way mirror, and she had to keep from glancing over her shoulder at them. "someone's fucking with me. i made that stupid snowman because i thought it'd be funny to scare kids at the competition. i have no clue how it ended up at the winery — and if you saw how i was dressed, which i'm sure you did, it wouldn't have made sense for me to bring it. it would've been messy, i would've been too cold, and—" shit shit shit SHIT. she said too much. she opted out of a lawyer because she didn't need to defend herself. she did nothing wrong. ( this time. ) but she wasn't a rat, not in the sense of selling out the people she cared about. yet, she slipped up with no one to stop her, and she looked between the two investigators honing in on that fact. "— i was with someone. when it all went down. occupied. but you're not gonna get a name out of me because you're not going to bring her into this. if you fucks are going to pin this shit on me, you're not going to put this on her."

your landlord has informed us you've been largely absent from your apartment since the incident on december 31st. is there something we would find there if we searched the premises?

"a dog i've rehabilitated that will still bite your dick off if i'm not there. and i swear to whatever, if you kill my dog, i will sue your asses personally until you've got nothing left." that was good, threatening a lawsuit. it was better than what her gut usually went with: promising murder. but there was a bigger problem dawning in the recesses of her mind. cerberus aside... there was plenty they could discover if they got the warrant. none that would lead them to the current murder, of course. however, copious amounts of drugs both personal and with intent to sell through the gang's dealers, illegal weaponry, and random stolen goods cyrek trusted to her discretion would be more than enough to put her away.

a picture is presented from the crime scene of a crude drawing in the victim's blood, a rat holding a knife in its mouth: can you confirm this is identical to a tattoo of yours listed as an identifying mark in your medical records?

leaning forward as the glossed photo slid into view, fallon swallowed. there was no point in lying. they made the point they had medical records irrevocably stating her tattoos. and it did look eerily similar to the one atticus had done on her right hip in about the size of a palm. all she did was nod.

on the evening of june 10th, were you intoxicated with illegal substances or dangerous amounts of alcohol when you were seen leaving the seal harbor apartments?

sitting back in her chair, fallon shrugged again, still swallowing thickly around the implications placed against her. "no." at least, not intoxicated with dangerous levels. "not when leaving the apartments. i do like to have a couple beers after work." with a bump of coke in the bathroom.

we've obtained a warrant on reasonable suspicion that we are entitled to a blood test for drugs and alcohol in your system, and we'd like to obtain a urine test as well. depending on the results of the tests, we'll proceed from there. we'll also be confiscating the weapons and illegal contraband we found. this concludes our interview.

the last thing fallon wanted to do was act nonchalant. briefly, a vision flitted in her frontal lobe of leaping from the table and strangling these deadbeats, teeth gnashing like a cornered wolf set free and prepared to rip them asunder. in reality, she rolled her eyes and sighed, waving a hand as if their information was all complimentary and pointless. on the contrary... she knew she was done for.