Into the Dark

@isabelle-asadi

i can see your years in my reflection dents and cracks embedded in my skin they will bloom in fireworks and fury for all the times I didn't let you in

76 posts

sylviecomtois-blog

“Yes, all police officers have to answer is ‘who did it.’ We have to answer ‘how’ and if someone actually did anything at all,” she commented. Damn, she felt a little tipsy now. She willed herself not to get too touchy–she was a flirty drunk, which had gotten her into trouble more than once.

“You live with Ross?” she asked incredulously. “As in Hunter Ross? The one who works with us?” She couldn’t imagine living with any of these coworkers. She usually got fed up with their antics by lunch if she was lucky. (She had to admit, however, that Hunter wasn’t bad, especially compared to Jasper). “And yes, I’d love another. A vodka, this time?” She motioned to the bartender to grab his attention.

“I guess they don’t have our special skill set,” Isabelle comments. “And for that, they don’t get to chase around ghosts.” She never wanted to be in law enforcement. She took a job once as a small town police officer because it was the only job in the town and she stayed only three months before she moved on, partly from boredom. She doesn’t envy them at all.

“He’s surprisingly quiet at home,” she admits. Except of course when he sits in the corner and whispers to his imaginary friend, but she supposes that everyone has faith in something. “I had a spare room,” she offers as way of explanation. It doesn’t really explain anything, but enough.

“It’s on me,” she offers, asking for the same. He frowns but turns to make their drinks.

v-castillo-deactivated20160903

“If there’s one thing I’ve heard about Australians, it’s that they can definitely hold their alcohol.” Castillo smiled, “Although, I think half the countries on earth pride themselves on being big drinkers. That’s probably some sort of interesting social phenomenon.”

Isabelle shakes her head, wearing a half smile. “Pretty sure it’s the nationality equivalent of a pissing contest,” she says flatly, motioning towards the dingy bar at the end of the street. “That’s it.” There’s not really much to look at, actually, it looks a bit like a good desert wind could knock it straight over. “Guess you don’t really need them to be drunk though to know what they’re thinking,” she points out as they start towards the rusty door.

ucu-ross-deactivated20180918

“This beer is at least.” Hunter smirked as his eyes flickered towards the glass and he drained it. Growing up he didn’t have any siblings, there wasn’t really anyone he could lean on or turn to advice. There was prayer, but it obviously wasn’t the same. As he grew more familiar with her it became abundantly clear that there was little he wouldn’t do for Isabelle, Hunter could only assume that if he did have a sister, this is what it would feel like.

“I should head out, we’ll do a tiebreaker tonight at the pub eh?” Hunter asked as he stood up and stretched slightly, there was a couple leads he still needed to follow up on with Han.

She nods, picking up her paper again. “Escape before Castillo comes down,” she says, nodding towards the door, before finishing her beer, leaning over and tossing it in the bin. One look though, and Victoria would know, there’s really no point. “I already met the local bartender, think you’ll like him,” she comments, shaking her head as she turns the page, wondering how many pages they actually need for sport.

kekoawalker-blog

“I mean, you say that like you’re kidding, but I think I saw some pretty big grey clouds comin’ our way…” He couldn’t really remember the last time he’d joked around with someone else like this, when his conversation had been nothing but light, free of the usual inhibitions and the constant necessity to remain guarded. He was surprised to find that it was quite nice.

“No, it doesn’t,” he concurred, shaking his head as he contemplated the woeful lack of open water around them. For the briefest of moments, if he concentrated hard, he could hear the roar of the ocean again, could almost feel the spray of salt against his skin, insistent but feather-soft at the same time. His bones ached for it, to be returned to the watery cradle in which he was born. Maybe he’d have to go home, one day. But that was a train of thought for another time, when he was very much alone. “Here’s hoping for a case by the ocean that involves about one day of actual work, and a week of vacation time.”

Isabelle has to smile at the comment, looking instinctively towards the tinted windows. "I'll be sure to come to your desk tomorrow to discuss the rain," she says, distracted momentarily as the amber liquid is finally poured into her glass.

She raises her newly filled glass to the comment, feeling a bit like Kekoa went to the same place she did. "I think that would take nothing short of a mutiny though," she says, smiling into her drink before taking a long sip. "If we finished in a day, we'd be back in New York with paperwork before you could say Castillo." She keeps a straight face, but it’s not said with any type of malice.

kekoawalker-blog

Another case, another vast expanse of desert. But there was something different about this one, something… the word otherworldly had crossed his mind, albeit briefly. It was as though the earth itself was imbued with some sort of power, and the air felt tinged with a sense of the mysterious, the unknown. Looking out at the way the outback stretched on, seemingly into eternity, the earth burnt ochre under the blazing sun, you could really believe that this was the kind of land on which people disappeared without explanation.

After so long without a real case, Kekoa’s hands were itching from inactivity, his bones restless, eager to get into solving a real puzzle. He was glad to find Isabelle and Sylvie in one place, in the small lobby of the hotel that Interpol had so kindly chosen for them.

“You guys ready to go?” he queried, coming to a halt near them. “I made my feelings about this plenty clear in the briefing, I think we should start with the indigenous locals rather than the cops.” It was a statement that left some room for debate, but was nonetheless reasonably firm, bolstered by the fact that he knew Isabelle agreed with him about the fact that the police wouldn’t be especially useful.

sylviecomtois-blog

Sylvie wiped her hair away from her face, the sweat causing it to cling to her forehead in a distinctly unpleasant way. After Mexico she’d hoped they’d end up somewhere nicer, and……colder. Perhaps Germany, or Russia, or Belgium. Not another damn desert wasteland.

But, she told herself, it was a case, and an interesting one, at that, and it was better than copying paperwork in the office all day. Bourke was a strange place. It had a population of around two thousand people and seemed to be a surreal oasis between the outback and…..more outback. “I agree,” she said thoughtfully. “I’m assuming we’re going to approach the people living in the desert? Jasper mentioned that the Aboriginal populations are most abundant there.”

It's loud here, louder than she thought it would be. Birds that sounded like they were screaming woke her up at five in the morning and the air sticks to her, not in the way she remembers it in Spain, but with a dry heat that's uncomfortable against her eyes.

The police in these types of places usually know as much, if not less, than their initial report. Not to mention, thirty years have gone by. People remember, people care, people tell stories that live on -- she has to agree. "I believe they’re interspersed in the population," she comments, looking around the lobby. "Though, our best bet is the edge of town.” She starts towards the door. “If they’ll talk to us at all.”

wrenscarborough-blog

Excitement bubbled in him at the prospect of the challenge. Here he’d been thinking that his night would be a quiet one, that he’d have a few drinks and then go back to his apartment. And then Isabelle had walked in, and now his heart danced with the challenge. It was a bit of fun, a way for two hard-working detectives to amuse themselves, take their thoughts away from death and missing persons reports. But it was something else, too. A bonding exercise. And a challenge.

Nico never stepped down from a challenge, not least when two weeks worth of paperwork were on the line.

“What do you propose we toast to? Tomorrow being better than yesterday? Something cheesy?” He lifted his first shot glass. “I warn you, I’m quite good at racing.” He winked at her, touching his glass to hers then downing the shot, then the next, then the next. His head dizzied, the room spinning as the rush of alcohol hit him, and he shook his head, waiting for it to pass. “Hot damn,” he laughed, “that’s the good kinda buzz, am I right?”

She studies the drinks in front of them, raising her eyebrow in amusement. It’s a flimsy excuse to get drunk, but it’s still an excuse, and she’s been told over and over again that she needs to bond with her teammates, so that’s exactly what this is - bonding the best way she knows how. “I was thinking along the lines of neither of us needing a liver transplant anytime soon,” she jokes with a straight face, holding her first shot glass in her hand

She can feel the familiar numb in her arms, traveling down her body. It’s familiar. It feels comforting. She smiles at his comment, nodding her agreement. “The best kind,” she comments, setting the last glass down. “I take it you’re not ready to admit defeat quite yet?”

Bourke had a population of just over two thousand, tiny, and so there was no way any of the team could slip into their community without ringing a few alarm bells. They didn’t exactly look or act like locals. He had promised, once at the briefing and again on the plane, to keep his mouth shut while the rest of the group gathered information - a vow of silence quickly broken. The landscape was hostile, and Jasper, with his pale skin and frail bones was far from suited to it. It felt like Groundhog Day, a punishment for their shortcomings in Mexico. They were now doomed to repeat the same struggles over and over again.

“Next time we’re going somewhere cold, maybe Scandinavian,” he answered, face moulded into a scowl, “even if I have to commit the crime myself, I’m going to make sure we go.”

He ordered an espresso, despite the heat settled under his skin demanding something cooler. He stuck his hand in the sugar tray, pulling out four or five tiny paper packets in a small mountain on the counter in front of him.

She looks up from the paper, studying Jasper for a second, looking all the bit out of place as she feels. “I don’t know, there’s something nice about the heat,” she says, slightly amused as she blows on her coffee. “And imagine, it’s winter here.” It’s said with the lightness she can manage with the jet lag and caffeine still trying to make its way through her veins and also her general disposition.

She sets her coffee down and hands over the paper. “You’d think finding a body of a thirty year old teenager would get a lot more press.” Turns out the press doesn’t even like talking about it.”

v-castillo-deactivated20160903

“We are here for work.” Castillo pointed out mildly. It was true though, she probably needed to dedicate some period of each day to not thinking about work. Maybe she could start scheduling that in. “But - fine, no work talk. Although let’s just keep our ears open in case we hear anything.”

“You can’t work 24/7,” she points out lightly, a small smile on her face. She’s tried. It doesn’t work. You find yourself only half there and it’s never worth it in the end. She suspects that Castillo knows this though. “We can definitely keep our ears open though,” she agrees. “People didn’t really seem happy to talk earlier, hopefully Australians can’t hold their alcohol.”

ucu-ross-deactivated20180918

“Psh, yeah almost but maybe not quite.” Hunter smirks as he takes another sip. He’s always preferred animals to most people, but in most cases around here that might not be strictly true. Some creatures were better appreciated from afar… Though he supposed he could say the same about most people as well. He doesn’t really know anything about where Isabelle is from, really it’s anyone’s guess but if he was a betting man he’d wager she wouldn’t want to talk about it.

“You don’t know the half of it.” He remarked, his tone faltering slightly before his eyes quirked up at her question. The game back on. Her features never gave any sort of tell, at least not one that Hunter could read, but Isabelle was a jack of all trades that was probably bordering on alcoholism. Though if she had her pick from a fully stocked bar Isabelle would be into whiskey right now, not beer. “Liar.”

Isabelle chuckles under her breath, raising her glass just an inch towards Hunter. He’s getting better at this game, and although she trusts Hunter completely, there’s still a part of her that it terrifies just slightly. She needs to remind herself that she can’t run from his life - that this is it, this is pretty close to permanent, and maybe it’s okay to get slightly attached. Of course, she never has to voice that out loud, but it’s still there.

“Beer is overrated,” she says with a shrug, as she takes another sip. Probably shouldn’t say that loud enough for the locals to hear though.

ucu-ross-deactivated20180918

“Thanks,” Hunter says with a nod as he takes the beer, it’s a pale lager and isn’t half as bad as he was expecting it to be. He has to think about her question for a few seconds, it’s hard to say really. “I try not to. I mean… Back home someone buys more eggs than usual and everyone whispers about it after mass. But in New York somebody gets shot and you’re lucky if it makes the papers.” Hunter pauses for a second, “I think people just care less in a big city.”

He takes another sip, it’s cool - refreshing even. Hunter hadn’t realized just how thirsty it was until it passed his lips. “Beer’s decent.”

“Yeah,” she says, looking down at the bottle in her hands. “Almost makes up for the bird-eating spiders out back,” she comments dryly as she takes another sip. Sometimes she forgets that Hunter came from one of these towns, though she doesn’t know how. He still carries that small town... something with him. It’s not a bad thing, not necessarily a good, but it’s definitely a thing.

“Would hate for someone to know when I bought too many eggs,” she jokes with a straight face anyways. She thinks to ask him about his father, and how things have been -- but, it’s a passing thought. “I once learned how to brew beer, truth or a lie?”

ucu-ross-deactivated20180918

There’s a beauty to it that goes understated, people living under some of the harshest conditions and still somehow laughing in the face of a dozen poisonous snakes. Back home people see a spider too big and they scream as if it could do anything but kill an insect. Hunter doesn’t say much of anything in response, he wonders how long she stayed last time before she left but also doesn’t ask. “Yeah.” Comes the simple reply as he follows her gesture despite the fact it led nowhere. A lot of things came out of this place, a lot of things got lost.

They could talk about the case, that might quantify working but him and Han still need to go over some things. Misinformation wouldn’t do the case any favors. “A beer sounds good about now.”

“A beer always sounds good.” It doesn’t take her much time and she’s pushing a cold beer into Hunter’s hands and taking a sip of her own as she sits back on the couch. “You ever wonder why stuff like this only seems to happen to towns like this?” She asks after a minute of starring down at the paper that didn’t have much to report except for some fair that’s on every first Saturday.

She never liked to stay in towns like this when it was just her. She always wondered how it was that you had so much less anonymity hidden in a town like this than in a city in the middle of everything.

ucu-ross-deactivated20180918

“Probably, yeah.” He agrees, but as it stands he has some time to kill. Hunter wonders if there’s a chance any of the kids are still alive but shakes it away, it doesn’t do well to get too emotionally attached. After four years it’s something he’s still working on. “Well, that’s not exactly a difficult feat.”

He hates how good at this she is, but she’s of course right. Sometimes he wonders if her powers extend beyond persuasion but is pretty sure he’s just always been a sore loser. Hunter watches her for a second, it’s difficult to say - he’s never really seen her in an environment where she didn’t look comfortable, collected. “Truth?” Though unlike her, his voice lacks certainty.

“It’s nice here, so far away from everything else,” she says, not confirming that he’s right, but it’s highly implied. “Someone would really want to get here if they’re willing to take the plane ride.” Even South East Asia, the flights long enough that you’d question how much time you really want to spend in a plane to land where half the creatures (and plants) could kill you. “Plus, you can really get lost here.” She points towards the window, the store next door not really adding much to her point, but she know that Hunter gets it.

“I’ll get us both a beer,” she decides, standing. If Victoria wants to get mad at someone, it can be on her. “I don’t think we’re going to get much more out of the locals today at least.”

ucu-ross-deactivated20180918

“With those ‘you should be working right now’ eyes no doubt.” Hunter said with a smirk before he glanced at the counter, “is it any good?” She’s probably the most likely person on the team to have tried it already. He’s not exactly a connoisseur, he’d already adapted to the fact that American beer is weak, so if Australian beer is crappy he’ll make do.

The right corner of his mouth widens as his smirk broadens into a smile, she’s of course right but he doesn’t need to say it. He takes a sip of his coffee, it was his bed that he set on fire but that was years ago and only after he’d been awake for 7+ days. After a week it got hard to remember when he’d last slept so how long this particular bender had been was hard to say. “Please, as if I’d ever smoke in the flat. But that was an easy one.” Hunter said with a roll of his eyes before a beat passed between them. “I’ve never been in the ocean. Truth or lie?”

Isabelle laughs. “She’d probably be right,” she admits, though she already put in her full eight hours today - the UCU never seemed to care about things like working hours or overtime. “It’s alright, go for the dry stuff.” She knows from her visit to the pub the night before. “Better than the American stuff anyways.”

In there line of work, she can’t imagine Hunter hasn’t seen the ocean - but, seeing it is different than actually being at the ocean, feeling it around you, breathing in the salted air. “Truth,” she decides. “Prefer it to be a lie though, you could use with some ocean air.” She pauses. “I’ve been to Australia before, truth or lie?”

ucu-ross-deactivated20180918

“Feel free to smack me if I pick up either of those.” Hunter mused as he glanced at the paper in front of Isabelle. Absently he wished for something a bit stronger than this coffee, but it was a bit early in the day for his taste - not that there was much here anyways. He had a flask, but drinking on the job wouldn’t go over well and it wasn’t like Hunter could really hide anything from Castillo.

“True.” Hunter agreed, any place where they didn’t have to dig a hole in the ground was better than t least some of the cases they’d been on. Hunter’s eyes narrowed and locked on Isabelle’s as he leaned forward and set his coffee down. “I once set my tent on fire because I fell asleep with a smoke in my hand.” He said seriously as he offered his hands. “Truth or lie?”

“Oh, I will,” she says it like it’s a promise, and it kind of is. There’s no way she is carrying that home with her. “They serve beer too.” She reads the look on Hunter’s face, a familiar one. “But Castillo is still upstairs, and I’m sure ten minutes away from coming down to ask us what we’ve found.”

She studies him for a second. “Better be false, or I’m getting you a flame retardant blanket, and banning cigarettes in the flat,” she answers dryly, but with a small smile to let him know that she’s mostly kidding.

ucu-ross-deactivated20180918

The place is far from glamorous, in fact if he’s being honest it’s a bit of an arm pit as far as towns go. They don’t even have public transportation. Still, from what he’s heard by poking around the community, it’s getting better. Justice Reinvestment is rare, most places are sooner to throw money into their prisons than into the community - a temporary fix for a problem that is clearly systemic.

Hunter snorts at the question. “Yeah. A blast.” He said in good nature as he takes a seat on the somewhat scratchy couch. Their hotel is a dump, there are spiders big enough to eat small children whole (probably), and Hunter’s at least 75% sure that they’re going to be here for weeks. At least he’d be able to attend mass at St. Ignatius while they were here. He sighed slightly as he took a sip, “but the coffee is good.”

Isabelle half laughs into her cup, studying Hunter’s face. “Everyone here either calls you mate or darling, and I can’t decide which I dislike more,” she half-jokes, blowing on the hot coffee. In truth, it’s more of a ‘dahl’ which she had to have explained to her is ‘darling’ and not ‘doll’ which nearly started a fight (which Castillo would not have liked at all).

“At least it’s a hotel and not tents,” she decides to look on the positive side. They’ve definitely had worse accommodations. “And there’s working plumbing.”

They come to Australia, a country where most of the population live within an hour from the ocean, and they end up land-locked, looking at nothing but outback (which really, is a lot like the deserts of Mexico in a lot of ways). She’s not really surprised by it, and she can’t really say that she’s disappointed, but it would have been nice for a view. Or, really anything to look at other than the wall of the next building.

There wasn’t much choice when it came to hotels in Bourke. She’s not even sure if this is the nicest one, but it’s the one that the department chose. There isn’t really a bar, just a lobby where you can get coffee (who knew there was so many different ways to take your coffee) or a beer. She doesn’t really want either though, but settles on the coffee as she flips though the daily newspapers.

“Coffee is nice,” she says distractedly as her colleague takes a seat. “Enjoying yourself?”

#uncommonstarter

v-castillo-deactivated20160903

Castillo nodded thoughtfully, “It might be a good idea, if we can ingratiate ourselves with the locals and become familiar faces they’re likely to talk to us more easily.” she paused, “Or am I thinking too much in work mode again?”

Isabelle nods, moving towards the entrance of the department. “Yeah, you are,” she says simply, motioning for her to follow. “You can just have a drink, you know? You can maybe even go the next three hours without thinking about the case,” she adds once they’re on the street and she’s trying to remember the way to the old pub.

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