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@dtmalave
* MEMORANDUM. [𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎] & 𝘐𝘕𝘝𝘌𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘎𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕,
❝ IT WAS , 𝒖𝒉 , SIX. no, no , ——— uh-mm, it was seven. … 7:30 ‘bout. i can’t - - - can’t really r-remember too well. 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯’ 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 … 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 , & she was gonna head on over to the MILLER’S PLACE. 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙳𝙸𝙳. like she, UH, like she always did. my lil’ imogene … my sweet, sweet baby. [SMILES] you know she had this thing she’d love to do; she’d love to - to 𝒑𝒂𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔. she knew she was too young for GROWN FOLK MONEY, but all the one dollar bills in the world were nothin’ compared to a big, fat kiss on the nose. AHEH, she wanted to pay me back that morning for the snacks i’d packed her. ❞
SHE STIFLES A SOB FROM BENEATH A VEIL OF COFFEE BREATH AND A SAD EXCUSE FOR A SMILE. 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇. breathe.
❝ BUT I WAS RUNNIN’ SO GOD DAMN LATE… she stopped to give me a kiss. kept on naggin’ me about it all morning. ‘𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀, 𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒! 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀, 𝐈’𝐌 𝐏𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍’ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒!’ she kept going on and on, and you know what i did ? i yelled at her. all she wanted was a kiss. an — and — and all she got was her mama yellin’ for her to shut up & now, 𝘚𝘏𝘌’𝘚 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘌 𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌𝘞𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘌 ! thinking her mama hate … hates her sweet, sweet baby kisses. 𝙼𝚈 𝙱𝙰𝙱𝚈 𝙸𝚂 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴… AND I’M HERE, LISTENIN’ TO Y’ALL TELLING ME 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄. ❞
K. BELMARSH: TELL ME, DETECTIVE; YOU HAVE KIDS? DET. ABDIEL: UH, YES, MA’AM. A BOY, SIX YEARS OLD. K. BELMARSH: PRECIOUS ... ONE YEAR YOUNGER THAN IMMY. TELL ME, DETECTIVE, DO YOU LOVE YOUR BABY BOY? DET. ABDIEL: YES, MA’AM. WITH ALL MY H --- K. BELMARSH: THEN TELL ME, WHAT IF ONE DAY YOUR PRECIOUS ... BEAUTIFUL, INNOCENT BABY BOY TURNED UP MISSING. ‘N SOMEHOW, NO ONE SAW A DAMN THING, ‘N YET EVERYONE’S TELLING YOU TO GIVE UP. TELLING YOU TO COUNT YOUR LOSSES. GIVING YOU CONDOLENCES AND WELL WISHES FOR A BABY I DON’T EVEN KNOW IS GONE. NO BODY, NO DNA, NO WITNESSES, NOTHING. TELL ME, DETECTIVE. WOULD YOU BE SITTIN’ HERE, ACCEPTING THAT AND COUNTING YOUR LOSSES?
THE DELICATE SHEEN OF A HAND-ME-DOWN CHINA SET twinkles in the early morning sunshine, curls of steam bellowing in the air, rising from the STARK BLACKNESS of a fresh brew. ❝ NO, MA’AM. i wouldn’t . ❞
@cadejos .
* ❝ ahem, i think ... mhm, no, i think we can all agree the way this case has been - christ, ‘𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚍, ’ has been utterly irresponsible, ma’am. WE NOTICED, 〔 paper shifting, crescendo. 〕 erm, few discrepancies amongst the times, ma’am & was wonderin’ if imogene HAPPENED to BE with THE scouts. it’s jus’ somethin’ we THOUGHT might’ve been a mistake on our PART. ❞
A SILENCE IS ALL CONSUMING. LIKE EVERYONE IN THE ROOM IS MOURNING A THING OF LIFE WITH A CORE BLEEDING OUT IN THE AFTERGLOW OF THIS DYING MORNING SHINE. THE DESPAIR IS TANGIBLE. YOU COULD SQUEEZE IT BY THE MEEK NECK AND WATCH WHILE IT LAUGHS AT YOUR DESPERATION.
HUMID GUSTS HAUNT THE SPACE FROM a WIDE , MOUTHED / window & beyond this home cradling pain in cracked greasepaint walls, runny BLEACH embossed linoleum floors is a 𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙺 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙾𝙽 angel : lost in yesterday’s headlines.
K. BELMARSH: UHM ... I MEAN, YEA’ --- YES, SINCE SHE WAS FIVE. THE COMMUNITY ONE OFF THE BAKERY NEAR ST. CHARLES. DET. FRANCISCO: RIGHT, COULD WE SEE THE SCHEDULE? IS THERE ANY KIND OF TIME TABLE FOR THEIR MEETINGS? K. BELMARSH: MHM. IT’S -- IT’S ON THE FRIDGE. DET. FRANCISCO: THANK YOU, MA’AM. I’LL BE BACK.
* MEMORANDUM. [𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎] & 𝘐𝘕𝘝𝘌𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘎𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕,
self - proclaimed godhood remains bound in chains , & shackled to a mortal plane unfit for the god of suffering. i. 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 , and a little boy dead. DROWNED LUNGS / and an inflated ego desperate for adoration. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐌𝐄. ii. 𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘹𝘪𝘰𝘯 , and brutalized palms adorning stigmata scars; little boy limbs and little girl parts hand - stuffed in a refrigerator / the modern - day frankenstein , with a taxidermy fetish for monsters and childish tears. 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄. iii. 𝘣𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘺 , and the fear of divine retribution. perversion leaks and leaks and leaks, as a tongue breaks free from a 𝚌𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑 to flaunt a newfound freedom: he licks his lips and smiles. welcome to hell. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐌𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐄. ❝ y'gon’ answer , or just gon’ keep lookin’ at me with ‘at stupid ass look on y’alls faces… [ … ] awwww, shit. don’ tell me they sent me cheech ‘n fuckin’ chong. y'speak english , right ? yew know, ——— tew hubleh een'gles? ❞
❝ mornin’ , mister dugal ——— “ [ 𝘥𝘰𝘯’ 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. ] ” right. your file says you prefer to go by ‘EXTHARYS’ : god of sufferin.’ hm. allow me to introduce myself, mister extharys. i’m detective padilla, this right here’s detective malavé. we’ve come today because recently there’s been a string o ——— “ [ 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘺'𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, '𝘯 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘺'𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘦. ] ” is’at so ? tell us, how would you know that ? ❞
* ❝ weeellllll , when ah coupl’a bloated faggots come lookin’ for THE DIVINE KING, it’s kinda hard not to notice. i heard y’all needed help, so i called upon y’all. and you’ve answered d’call. ❞
𝐀𝐁𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐋 So, you’re sayin’ you set this meeting up? 𝐃𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐋 Well, y’all here ain’chu?
MALAVÈ finds dark amusement in a disillusion DUGAL, making it clear with a smile. Angry. DUGAL’S attention is focused on the juxtaposed reticent partner.
It’s a lion’s den.
* ❝ sum’n fuckin’ funny ? ’cus i ain’t tell no fuckin’ joke ? y’all got the : uh - sumshin that i would talk to no nancy hoover boys, ’less i willed it. & that’s ex - fucking - actly what i fuckin’ did - so, you fat ass pigs gonna keep oinkin’… or y’alls gonna make me ah offerin’ ? 〔 chain clanking, in a silent room. 〕 ❞
i. ✎ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 CLOCKS THE TENSION, RECOGNIZES IT’S FAMILIARITY.
❝ you ever go to church? ❛❛ [ 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 —— ] ❜❜ says your mother was a - member of a local congregation.
𝐃𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐋 Yea’, dumb broad loved her sum 𝘑𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘴. 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄̀ (CONT’D) You don’t sound very supportive?
i had the assumption your interest in being a object of reverence came from being raised by a 𝙗𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙚𝙧. ❞
* JULY 3RD , 1992 ,
Within the last six months, the state of Louisiana has suffered a substantial increase in the number of homicide and missing person reports specifically involving children under the age of 13. As of the current date, we have eight unsolved homicides and four missing person reports with a Imogene Belmarsh being the latest in a string of peculiar disappearances. To address this problem, I have hereby requested the counsel of a serial offender. I am under the impression that the psychology of a William Dugal (I.N. #227501) will deliver significant insight into the pathology and patterns of our current unidentified suspect due to the victims extremely similar injuries.
I hope that my request will be honored and sincerely appreciate the effort in helping me to achieve that end.
Yours for a safer Louisiana,
————- MALAVÈ.
𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐍: 𝐈𝐍𝐓. LOUISIANA STATE PENITENTIARY. 𝐃𝐀𝐘. SPECIAL AGENT(S) ABDIEL PADILLA AND FRANCISCO MALAVÈ ARRIVE. ON THE DRIVE TO THE FARM, THEY PASS A CHEAP, DECREPIT BILLBOARD WITH A AUBURN HAIRED GIRL’S PORTRAIT ON IT. “DO YOU KNOW WHO KILLED ME?” CRISTINA JENKINS (13). THE TASTE OF ALUMINUM IS ON FRANK’S TONGUE , HIS FACE TWISTS AND HE HOPES ABDIEL DIDN’T SEE . THEY’RE DIRECTED THROUGH.
𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙤𝙡𝙨, ( … ) these unhinged, & famished sharks, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥, glare with a scorn like he’s chumming bait. [ a debilitated topsy - turvy catfish performing a galloping 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚊𝚠𝚜 of DEPRAVITY, a last call for everything bathed in immorality. ] but outside crimson blinders, & violence — riddled orgies of 𝙖 𝙛𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙝 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙, they don’t notice the barbed end of a lead speargun; he’s the one hunting.
❝ okay. you two ’re aw’ set. good luck. ❞ [ like holding a blank handgun & yelling: ❛❛ 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬. 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘵. 𝘨𝘰. ❜❜ ]
* 𝙉𝙔𝙇𝙊𝙉. 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐘 - 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐑. the name lives like the glow of something almighty; a macrobian superstition deliberated in scholarship notepaper for a full ride : [ ❛❛ 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦. ❜❜ after all, what are the most grandiose mythologies of the world known for ? / ( like a bad slave, he is in bondage. ) explored like a safari badlands, by a duo of crooks in southern blues. ] ❛❛ you d’ones who gonna’ get me them - uh, magazines, right ? ❜❜
@quibungo : redemption depravity.
* MEMORANDUM. [𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎] & 𝘐𝘕𝘝𝘌𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘎𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕,
A FACELESS PHANTOM stalks the shadows with a haunting familiarity, creeping & lurking around the hallways of your insides, tracking 𝙳𝙸𝚁𝚃 𝙸𝙽 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙶𝚄𝚃𝚂, and leaving your heart a mess with every visit. it studies your every move ; 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯, to study, and to master the ART OF BEING INCOMPLETE : that ALMOST good enough, that longing feeling in between every satisfying victory where a throat is awash with booze, 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 - 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 wandering around the curves of a stranger’s breasts, and every thought is muddled with drunkenness. there is something bittersweet about being pathetic.
𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍, 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄.
❝ you can’t deny that bein’ SOME sorta motivator behind this SHIT. we’ve got a sick, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘥 out there ‘n ain’t no one trying to go out and help these boys. makin’ sense of this shit isn’t gonna come easy, you know this. 𝐁𝐀𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒. i’m tired , and done with this same ole’ routine. we need a win, frank. & YOU —— you can’t lie ‘n say you don’t either. look at’chu : you can’t keep killin’ yourself over this. last thing i need’s YOU goin’ psycho on me, too. ❞
𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐍: 𝐈𝐍𝐓. SAINT MARY’S MEMORIAL HOSPITAL. 𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐍. A PAIR OF FEET. TWO BLURRED SHADOWS EMERGE FROM AFAR. RISE, TO REVEAL ROMAN O'CONNOR (41) and his partner, GORDON BIANCHI (40). A POOR MAN’S ABBOTT AND COSTELLO, BUT MUCH WORSE . THERE IS HISTORY HERE.
❝ fuuuuuck, i didn’t believe it ,you know —— 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 & you two MEAT MUNCHERS ARE FIRST ON THE SCENE, makin’ this into somethin’ it ain’t. what ‘appened to sharing, and allllll that kumbaya, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨 - 𝐚 - 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟, eh ? mmm, could’ve gave us the case ‘n it’d be over like that [ he snaps his fingers ] . it ain’t hard to see what happened here, guuuuuys. couple’a fairies flew too far from home, did some nasty butt stuff, caught the AIDS, and died under the overpass. 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝. go home. ❞
𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊. 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘. apathy is pure comedy in the addiction ; 𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢, it’s a dizzying liberation you’d get climbing onto the gnarled limb of a deeply forked and blighted weeping willow, & [ you can hear: ❛❛ 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦. ❜❜ ] / but that’s the addiction, isn’t it ? the meat of his mouth swells like mosquito & horsefly bites.
i. ✎ 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄̀’𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄: HE LOOKS LIKE HE MIGHT CRY, EITHER FROM ANGER OR SELF-DOUBT.
❝ shut up, just lay off - off, alright ? i get it. i absolutely fucking understand, DETECTIVE. ( ... ) i got us this far, haven’t... 〔 his sentimentality dies, like a animal in a trap. 〕 why ARE YOU two even here, huh? keep that stupid southern baptist bullshit, & get out of here. ❞
OPEN ON ROMAN O’CONNOR smiling.
There’s a intensity to him. A ROLLING STONES song made flesh; a cross between knocking back a drink, or beating you within an inch.
* ❝ well, goddamn ! we only came by to see how you two were doing ? isn’t that right, gordon ? i mean, jesus - excuse my language, you look like shit. baxter said you two were becoming unfit - methods were unsound… i didn’t believe it, bunch of hero cops ? 〔 a breath, dignified & righteous. 〕 but you have the shakes, like some morphine junkie, & i’d know what that looks like, frank. you know what we used to do when a joe got hooked on morphine ? ❞
❝ FUCK YOU. ❞ with a bite.
𝘪. 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 / 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘 + 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 .
[ @cadejos ] /// do not reblog .
* MEMORANDUM. [𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎] & 𝘐𝘕𝘝𝘌𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘎𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕,
* JUNE 7TH , 1992 ,
We spent the afternoon identifying bodies down at the morgue, trying to ID this young man’s body the boys found down by the Lake you and I camped at a few years back. Body had been badly beaten, sodomized with some sort of blunt object. Frank’s thinking a baseball bat, I was thinking some sort of chair leg. Doesn’t matter, though. Poor bastard’s got a hell of a lot more to worry about than a brutalized asshole. There’s something awfully wrong about staring into the bludgeoned face of a dead man and only seeing a couple of teeth and missing holes where his eyes should be, staring back.
I miss you more and more each day, Rachel. I really do.
————- ABE .
❝ … ❞
the putrid 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 clings to the walls of the mortuary, pervading the air like diseased cells in a smoker’s bloodstream. the LOUISIANA SKY is hot with murder & 𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 ; the moon, still out / relentless and unwanted / amidst a sky 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍𝚜 and tiny birds with their beaks sewn shut. SEVEN DEAD, AND THE WORLD KEEPS MOVING. SEVEN DEAD, AND NO ONE MOURNS.
❝ it ain’t gonna stop. the boys don’t care. people sure don’t. HELL , even their own families don’t give a SHIT ABOUT ‘EM. couple gay men turn up dead and no one 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘺𝘦 ? you SHITTIN’ ME ? —— it’s not gon’ stop , ‘n it sure as hell won’t stop with these boys. IT’S GONNA GET REAL BAD, FRANK. ❞
@cadejos , & 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘯.
❝ … ❞
𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟐. 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑, 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐄. blistering & sultry, ; 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘨𝘰 - 𝘨𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳, it’s the kind of heat that stuck like a DEBILITATING FEVER turned malaria — 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐. & in louisiana, a cicada’s metamorphosis, from that mulch & sawdust coma, is congruent with the demoralizing whine of a baby - blue gurney. ( listen : they’re 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 a prelude ). 𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍. merle. the county strangler. 𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇 — this summer is making him sweat.
MALAVÈ is staring. Unfocused. PADILLA’S outrage goes unnoticed initially until MALAVÈ snaps back like an elastic band.
It’s unlike him.
i. ✎ 𝐀𝐁𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃. 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄.
❝ y’gotta’ remember somethin’ about these psychotics; all of em, all, have some very active fantasy lives. i - FUCK. YOU WERE TALKIN’. ’bout them all being gay ? i don’t think the intent is - is a hate crime. this is somethin’ else, enactment, projection… maybe. goddammit!
[ morgue is dead silent. ] can’t be, not a fucking maybe. just give me a second, somethin’. ❞
《 ENTER O'CONNOR & BIANCHI. 》
* REDEMPTION / DEPRAVITY.
in the spring of 1992, a string of murders and multiple disappearances would plague a small louisiana town, forcing two detectives to take on the unsolvable BELMARSH CASE. with time, the law, and their enemies racing against them, they fight to uncover the mystery hidden beneath shining county. unbeknownst to them, once one thread is pulled, everything becomes completely unraveled. this is their story.
WORLD-BUILDING GRAPHICS : 1 / ?
Loving Vincent (2017)
——— REDEMPTION / DEPRAVITY (2018) + characters.