Patrick Jane

|Patrick Jane| |Multi-verse| |Multi-ship| |Muse 21+| |Mun 18+| {Side blog to humanitys-last-line} Read Rules and About before interactng Please note that the mun is currently only on season three of the series.

[ofmentaliisms-blog]

surviivorx:

               “You’ve always been good at that…but if I tell you the truth, I’m scared you won’t believe me. I could give you hints for hours, but it won’t change a thing. It won’t change that I…woke up.”

Charlotte’s breath hitched. It stabbed at her lungs with each slow word, aching throughout her body like moths around lamp. The sudden urge to stop her steps had rushed across her and without thought, her feet followed the command. Red rimmed eyes stung with water; blue orbs clouding with tears. His words etched into her, only confirming that she was nothing but a name on a platinum stone. That she had lost her childhood to running from the monster that hunted her in the night, never to think she would come to fear her father knowing she was alive. Still, the words were shoved off her tongue and left a sour taste that only sharpened the redness on her cheeks, forcing herself to watch him as her heart pounded between her rib-cage.

“…He won’t stop. He won’t stop until he’s dead, until he’s caught, and I can’t…change what he’s done to us, how much Red John’s deceived you. I thought you were dead, I thought he took you from me the same way he took mom- I don’t care what he does to me. You have to believe me, I am your daughter.”

           “You woke up? You... oh.”

It all clicked once he realized what she was saying. In an instant, his whole world was yanked out from under his feet. He’d gone years, years thinking that his wife and daughter were dead, that they were gone and it was all his fault for not listening and badmouthing a serial killer on live tv. But here was a girl that could be the same age as his daughter, that looked so much like Angela she couldn’t be lying, telling him she’d woken up. That she hadn’t died when Red John murdered his wife. Patrick took a small step backwards without realizing it, nearly falling over with how dizzy his was, a look akin to disbelief on his rapidly paling face. Charlotte was alive. After all these years, she was alive. He needed to sit down before he passed out, needed a chance to collect his thoughts, a chance to calm his racing heart. 

“You’re alive. I... I thought I’d lost you forever. I can’t believe... I’m sorry I didn’t look for you. I’m so sorry. He’d never taken anyone before. I didn’t know. I didn’t... I should have looked for you, Charlotte. I should have.... Who is he? Do you know who he is?"

[ofmentaliisms-blog]

I’ll be on shortly. There’s some coursework I need to finish before I really commit to tumblr for the night.

[ofmentaliisms-blog]

prentissisms

“Is this the part where the FBI claims jurisdiction? Because I’m not actually an agent. I’m just the consultant.”

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ericbrandonrp

“You know... trying to steal something from a crime scene probably isn’t the wisest course of action. You don’t have a gun do you?"

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surviivorx:

             “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you my name. Or worse… and accuse me of something I’m not. Technically, you do know me, but in a different way.”

She held onto his arm, explaining it in the best way her words could form while her mind still lagged in her anxiousness. She could have told him her name in different ways; one side was holding her back for the terror of his reaction, the other was left with the other terror of Red John’s reaction. It was a roller-coaster that never shut down. A smile then slid onto her mouth, a memory passing through all the fights she eavesdropped on; how mother complained about his Psychic power, how she begged him to stop and yet here he was still playing the same tricks, only now…for a better cause. Charlotte bit at her bottom lip.

“No, I don’t believe in them either. They’re mind players, you could say my dad was in the same business. I then realized it was nothing but a trick. You do it…to find him don’t you?”

          “You could always try me. I’m good at knowing when people are lying. So if you tell the truth... there’s a good chance I’ll believe you. Or you could give me a better hint as to how I know but don’t know you.”

He was supposed to be good at riddles and puzzles. It shouldn’t have been this hard to figure out how he knew her. Of course, the probable concussion likely had something to do with the inability to figure it out. Patrick should have been able to remember her name, assuming that they had met before. He was good at putting names to faces, at figuring out how someone would look years after he’d first met them. But he was stumped about this girl. There was nothing but blanks. So either they had never met before and she was mistaken, or he was overlooking something that was supposed to be obvious.

“Mind players indeed. Was in the same business? I take it to mean that he’s quit or dead. But since you don’t seem particularly sad talking about him, it’s more likely that he just quit. Red John, you mean? Yeah, I do it to find him. He’s not going to get away with what he did to my wife... to my daughter. Red John... he’s mine. And I will catch him.”

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liasoningdeeks​

“It’s not often that the CBI gets told to step off a case. ind telling me what makes this particular murder so special?”

[ofmentaliisms-blog]

surviivorx:

         “Actually you do know my name. I mean, you do know me, and I know you. We actually know each other, but you don’t really know me. Technically. Not anymore.”

She fumbled over her words as if it were a riddle, and riddles were never the best choice of tongue with a concussion. Charlotte could feel fear rise up her chest like a dam had just snapped and she was the one left to drown in it. She stood there in front of him, with the undeniable knowledge that he believed she was gone. The girl snapped out of her breathless silence, if there were any place safer, it would have been the CBI to choose. Slowly, she began leading him towards the building.

“Right, rest is definitely what you need right now. I actually saw you in the paper the other day, they said you’re some kind of physic for the C.B.I… right? Don’t get me wrong here, just kind of hard to believe you guys exist.” Lying was the only conversation she could come up with.

        “Any chance you could repeat that and maybe make it a little less... confusing? I’m not sure that I followed that correctly. I know you? Technically?”

Just what Patrick needed with his splitting headache. A riddle about how he knew this girl. The consultant’s eyes narrowed as he tried navigating through his memory to figure it out. But he was coming up with blanks. Maybe she was mistaken. That or his memory was failing. And that never happened. Patrick had a system to keep himself from forgetting anything. Maybe it was just further back and buried under more trivial things. Because he was sure he would have recognized her if they’d met recently. His train of thought was interrupted when she began leading him towards the building. It took most of his focus to keep from falling over, even with her steadying him.

“Hard to disagree with that. Maybe Lisbon will actually let me lay down for once without making a fuss. Psychics aren’t real. I’m not a psychic. I do help the C.B.I. But I’m not a psychic. I gave up that con years ago.”

[ofmentaliisms-blog]

surviivorx:

        “Strangers. Yeah. That’s why I don’t go up to very many”

She realized it had been a horrible idea to remove her hands and she raised them once more to hold his shoulders, attempting to keep him steady. The adrenaline rattling her insides like the tail of a snake, half of truth and half for the fear he was going to pass out on her.

“Most people usually guess. No, actually, I really want to take you to the hospital, it would be so much better. Besides, it’s just a concussion, it shouldn’t take long, right?”

        “Probably a good idea... uh, I don’t actually know your name.”

He almost shrugged her grip off, but it was the only thing keeping him upright at this point, so he stopped himself. Concussions were tricky. He should go to the hospital, sure, to check and see that it was only a concussion and not anything worse. But Patrick loathed hospitals on principle, and the staff generally loathed him as well. Add in the fact he was supposed to be working on a case.... He couldn’t go to the hospital.

“I’m not most people. And that’s exactly why we shouldn’t go to the hospital. It’s only a concussion. All they’re going to do is tell me not to fall asleep for twenty four hours and to rest. I do that already. If you really want to help, you could just take me back to my work.”

[ofmentaliisms-blog]

“Where’d you get that?”

Next To Normal Ask Meme: Send Me One To See How My Muse Will ReactStatus || Accepting || ikeptthepieces

“Maybe you have forgotten, but Walter Mashburn punched me in the face, Lisbon.” He didn’t mean to sound so cross, but his face really hurt. Patrick hadn’t been expecting for Walter to actually hit him. That hadn’t been part of the plan.

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agxntvanpelt:

          Here we go again. Grace tried very hard not to roll her eyes at him. After all, his opinions were his own and he was entitled to them, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear. At least, not when the paranoid part of her thought he got some sort of malicious glee out of poking fun at her beliefs. 

          “There’s over seven billion people in the world, Jane. Just because you’ve not met anyone who can’t speak to the dead doesn’t mean that they don’t exist.” She sighs. “Besides, Yolanda is my cousin, not some psychic I found in a shady magazine.”

          “Seven billion people doesn’t change the fact that psychics aren’t people faking an ability to get money.” Patrick couldn’t stop the half smile that appeared on his face at the sigh. “Her being your cousin makes it so much easier. She would have known personal details already. Then it’s simply a matter of convincing you that she isn’t faking being able to communicate with the ‘other side’.”

          It was amusing to argue with Van Pelt, a way to pass the time when they didn’t have an active case. She was so convinced that she was right, that there were people out there who could talk to the dead. But Patrick knew there weren’t. Every psychic he met was running a scam. Just like he used to.

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surviivorx:

      “Clever’s a new one. Usually it’s piss off with others.”

She swallowed, lowering her hand as her brows raised momentarily. She could tell it was a bad blow and the location was no better. Her own stomach grew queasy being in his presence, being in the open was no better and the uneasiness was obvious in her eyes as she watched him.

“Yeah, that’s pretty off considering it was only two. You probably have concussion, I’ll take you to a hospital.”

     “Not surprising. Most people don’t take kindly      to sarcastic strangers.”

The second her hands were no longer pressing against his chest, Patrick started swaying. It was hard to keep his balance.  Despite the pounding headache that made it hard to think clearly, he could see the uneasiness in her body language. But why she was so uneasy was beyond him.

“Two. I could have guessed that. It’s normally two or three. And you’re most likely right about the concussion, but you can’t take me to the hospital."

[ofmentaliisms-blog]

agxntvanpelt

     “Psychics aren’t real. They’re just people that read others or research them and tell their victim what they want to hear. No one can talk to the dead, Grace. I hate to tell you that, but it’s the truth.”

[ofmentaliisms-blog]

surviivorx | continued

     “Wizard of Oz. That’s funny. Very clever.”

His head ached. He hadn’t had such a bad headache since the time he’d been blinded from a bomb exploding a few yards from him. It took his eyes a few seconds to focus on the hand being waved in his face, but when they did, he still couldn’t tell how many fingers she was holding up.

“If it weren’t for the fact I know most people only have five fingers, I would have guessed six.”

[ofmentaliisms-blog]

Okay, now that I have some icons saved, I’ll post some starters. And then I’ll go and make some more of my own icons so that I can have a whole stash. Whoo. Fun.

[agxntvanpelt-blog]

Patrick Jane Icons - "Seeing Red"

Below the cut are 55 icons of Patrick Jane from the Mentalist episode “Seeing Red”. All icons are 100x100. A few are of the same image, but with different edits.

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[ofmentaliisms-blog]

I must find icons for Patrick. I mean, I can make my own but they'll look like shit. *sighs*

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Next To Normal Ask Meme: Send Me One To See How My Muse Will React

[harbingerlydia-archive]

“It’s 4 in the morning, is everything ok?” “Some days I think I’m dying, but I’m really only trying to get through.” “I think the house is spinning.” “So, we’ll try again and eventually we’ll get it right.” “Not a very exact science, is it?” “I’m trying to tell you I love you.” “I can be perfect for you.” “I miss the pain.” “Nothing’s real.” “I didn’t know you had a brother.” “He’s been dead 16 years.” “This is fucked.” “I know you’re hurting. I am, too.” “Can you tell me what it is you’re afraid of?” “Can I touch you?” “Are you wanting all that she can’t give?” “I am the one who won’t walk away.” “I wish I could fly, I’d fly far away from here.” “I love you as much as I can.” “I’m your worst fear, you’ll find it in me.” “I need you to need me.” “It’s not going to get better, is it?” “Are you nervous?” “What’s your story?” “Did you see my parents out there?” “How could she leave me on my own?” “Why didn’t you take me with you?” “You’re kidding, right? That’s bullshit.” “What makes you think I’d lose my mind for you?” “Tell me why I wait through the night.” ”I’m alive!” “I can’t get through this alone.” “Am I feeling what I think I’m feeling?” “I’m good as gone.” ”Come closer.” “You don’t remember any of this?” “I thought you might call.” ”Shh, shh, shh, go to sleep.” ”I’m a perfect stranger who knows you all too well.” “Don’t say that we’re over.” “I couldn’t give a flying fuck what’s normal.” “Your life has kind of sucked, I think.” ”I am flame and I am fire.” “Won’t anything be better than before?” “Your son is gone forever though.” “There’s something missing.” “Let me know you again.” “Why do I get denied?” “Where’d you get that?” “How could I ever forget?” Why would you want to remember the things that hurt you?” “Please, tell me his name.” “Why stay?” “Something next to normal would be okay.” “You look like a star.” “Can you leave it behind?” “I might end up crazy.” “So anyway I’m leaving.” “It’s time for me to go.” “I am the one who saved you.” “I know you know who I am.” “We need some light.” “It’s the price we pay to feel.”