fuck

the sinners sandwhiCH

[crispspringmorning]

 @spiderspines​

“Zach, it looks like everything we were told was right. This city is active at night. How fascinating, seeing these types at work!” Hand against the side of his head, pressing his ear, York continued to relay to his ever-present partner. “This woman...she has to be one of those vigilantes! Look at the way she moves! Definitely one of the most capable women I’ve ever seen.” 

He meant it - this red-haired woman with the metal limbs practically swept through the air, hair flying, used as strings and weapons, and tied up the entire undercity crime gang within a few minutes. Really, York timed her! He was here to get information, and sure, she had ruined it just a little bit, but this was amazing! So amazing! Well-worth it, almost as good as a movie. Reminded him of an 80’s flick even, one he saw when he was a kid….

When she was all done, he couldn’t help it - he just had to give her a standing ovation! “Bravo miss! Wow, just, Wow! That was the most amazing thing I’ve seen in person, and I’ve seen a lot. Wow! I wish I had something you could sign for me, you are absolutely a treat! Oh, but do you also mind? I need to interview these gentlemen really fast. I was going to before but I suppose this makes it just a bit easier!”

[crispspringmorning]

@biohazardly

Anybody with a trained eye or a professional sixth sense could walk into this city and tell that there was the stench of crime. Well, that and there was a very large record that went down and down and down on a list, something that York had read thrice over already. What a history! Still, it wasn’t nearly as bad as some of the places that he had been before. Some of the purple cities…those were totally lawless.

Still! A city where the criminal underbelly in all its fractured cliques acted as organized as the heroic figures at the top? This was going to be a site to see. Most were the solitary types –

But he wasn’t here for the exploration of organized crime. No. There was another murderer afoot- someone who acted out of sorts. The way that each fingerbone was arranged from the photographs sent - this was a serial killer. And York would find his unsub.

He held no illusions about what he might have to do, of course. Getting in with villains might be one of them. For now though? Coffee. He needed more than a little bit of coffee. Where to go for that though? He had no idea…

So he stopped the first person on the street. “Hey! Where is the best place to get coffee around here. Black, with just some milk. Pour it yourself even. I’m very particular about my coffee, but I need to know what the locals think.”

[crispspringmorning]

@fracturedefiance

Really, this was the perfect place to be working on a case. The cafe itself was barely inhabited, few people bothering to enter. The booths were also spacious, giving him more than enough room for his turkey sandwhich platter and the files, which took up the inside half. Photographs of the crimes lay spread across the cheap table, some overlapping, many of close-ups of objects found at the scene of the crime.

Each of them,  a piece of metal, each trying to form a whole. For the umpteenth time, York rearranged the bloody photographs, fitting piece after piece like a puzzle created by the hands of a demented monkey. It looked something like a page taken from the books of the old masters of horror. HE could just imagine it now, penned by Poe…

A person passed by. Without looking, York thrust his cup out and towards them. “Could I get more coffee please? This time, with a small pitcher of milk.”

When there was a lack of response, he glanced up. “Oh, sorry. I assumed it was one of the waitresses. Say, you seem to have a good eye. Could I borrow you for a second? I need a fresh gaze at these.”

[crispspringmorning]

@calebscatcorner This man looked harrowed, something like a person who hadn’t slept after hearing the news about their favorite elementary school teacher passed away in the night. His clothing reflected the wear and tear of a person who didn’t bother to change for days at a time - was that disorganization, or was that simply depression? His gaunt face suggested that he lacked motivation to eat, or at least absent-mindedness enough to forget it. Or perhaps it came from a place of poverty? His bearing sugested a manner of individual with a degree of trainign in their upbringing, but that didn’t mean they didn’t fall on harder times. 

“An interesting one, don’t you think, Zach?” Tork touched his ear again, pointer and middle finger loightly pressing while the remainder curled towards his palm; the typical posture when he communicated with his eternal partner in un-crime. “Still, he carries a slightly sinister air. Even thoguh he looks unassuming, he reminds me of a person with a kind of darkness in their past. I should ask the coffee for any hints about this.” 

Of course, by now his posture was drawing some attention. The man was looking sheepish, ready to slide out at any moment. So York did the most threatening thing he could do in this moment; lift his eyes and make direct eye contact.