I will be on later to knock out my replies.
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Not today Justin

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@suffocatingfear-blog
I will be on later to knock out my replies.
triptocaiine:
Never mind that what Mrs. Valenti-Kane’s daughter had brought up would have been Norman’s FIRST question, but the sight of the girl being so BLATANTLY manhandled was more than a little disconcerting. Norman shivered, feeling DISGUSTINGLY like something was crawling on him. He ignored it, instead holding his hands up to his lips, pressed together as if he were PRAYING for the woman to somehow VANISH from his sight and leave his afternoon in PEACE.
Funny how, over time and with the added droplets of success on his windshield, Norman became more and more like the people he’d originally DESPISED. Too much on my plate, he’d say. Can’t take this case. Clear my afternoon.
If he’d been distant before, he was even MORE SO now that he was important, now that people actually BOTHERED to come see him. He was almost ANGRY; no one paid him any mind before he’d risked life and limb in that old warehouse. Who are you? they’d asked him. Asshole, they called him. And he’d proven them wrong. It was rationalism and procedure that won out in the end. And he’d ALWAYS been this way; it was only a matter of people finally APPRECIATING it.
“Sure,” he responded, his true DISGUST masked by an air of p r o f e s s i o n a l i s m. He only spared a passing look at the teenager sullenly occupying herself with the iPad before turning towards his office. “Shall we?”
Her instincts took a hold of her, as she read his body language like a professional. It was always best to stay aware of her surroundings. A narrowed gaze was sent his way. Then an aura of tension surrounded the whole situation. She’d gotten looks like that before, when ‘handling’ her daughter. What people didn’t realize that she was just a brat, maybe it was her fault or maybe it was Lucas. He’d spoiled her too much. Now that he was gone, Valencia thought she could walk all over her mother. A clear of her throat before nodding at the other.
❝ Thanks....yeah. ❞
A clear brush past this scenario before she went into his office and set her bag down onto a chair and pulled all she had on file. Turning back to him,
❝ Listen, I know what you must think of me. I’m not blind nor an idiot. You can think what you want about me. This is however a serious case. My office recommended this particular FBI office to me, when I ran out of leads to go on. Maybe I am in a bit of denial. But I KNOW my husband. He would never just up and leave, even if things got rough or hard to handle. I am unwilling to give up without a few answers to ease my mind and some solid proof. Much like our own BRAND of thought process. You’re really no better then me Agent, except the fact you trained at a better academy then me, and now due to your more recent case you are an excellent profiler. If you’re not interested at all I can leave, you will however get no help from my office if you are brought into New York for any sort of crime to make yourself more famous then you already are. Judging by your posture, you’re obviously suffering from a horrible disease. Addiction is it?.......terrible. ❞
Fahrenheit (2005) (PS2)
Fahrenheit or Indigo Prophecy in North America is an interactive action adventure game developed by Quantic Dream. Quantic Dream is who we have to thank for Fahrenheit as well as Heavy Rain and most recently, Beyond: Two Souls.
Fahrenheit really takes a path of its own when it comes to gameplay, it is part action, part mystery, part puzzler. The gameplay comes in all forms too sometimes its all player controlled and sometimes in throws you into quick time events. It is a very unique and exciting game which throws you off course more than once. You make every little decision for your character and almost every decision will effect the game in some small or magnificent way.
Riddled with murder, twisted conspiracy and paranormal tit-bits this game really is in a class of its own. If you have never played it I really would advise you to go back and give it a go, you wont be disappointed.
8/10
heylilmamalemmewhisperinyourear.jpg
#BESTNAHMANAWARD
@triptocaiine
badrituals:
‘ Bad dreams, can’t sleep, ’ he lies, casually and easily. It just sort of comes out before he can stop it, though he’s not overly bothered. Deke spends more time lying than he does telling the truth these days, so what’s another to add to the pile? ‘ I hear daughters are hell when they’re that age. Lucky me, I only got a wife to deal with. –Hey, that a cigarette? Mind if I bum one off ’a you? Promised I’d cut down but, hey, it can be our little secret, right? ’
❝ Yeah, sure not a problem. ❞
Carla had said before reaching into the pocket of her knit sweater and producing a pack, handing one over to him as well as a lighter. Sighing.
❝ Yeah, work’s been hell lately too. I’m supposed to be doing interviews in the morning. I am so not looking forward to it. All these privileged kids don’t know anything. ❞
badrituals:
@suffocatingfear / starter call.
It’s as dead as it always gets around this time of night ( see: very, very late, when sensible people are sleeping ) and only Deke’s around to see it. He likes to do this, sit around in the dark when it’s just warm enough not to be a nuisance, likes to soak up the stillness. So, imagine his surprise when that stillness is disrupted, when out of the black comes a figure.
If he were anybody else, he might be worried this was the Cherry County Ripper, ready to come take another victim. But Deacon knows better.
‘ Little late for a stroll, ain’t it? ’ His tone is casual, voice quiet. Martha’s sleeping inside and he’d hate to wake her up. ‘ And dangerous, I’d say. ’
The person had startled her, a slight jump. Narrowing her gaze at the other, before a slight chuckle as she caught her breath. The woman was just finishing up a smoke, before flicking it off and into the street. Bundling her long knit sweater close to her.
❝ Yeah, I just do this to think sometimes, besides that I have a teen daughter at home so this is around the only time I get time to breathe. ❞
A sigh, before gazing at the other.
❝ What are you doing up this late? ❞
triptocaiine:
Norman had been NOTORIOUSLY busy since the Origami Killer case. He w i s h e d it had been a sweeter resolution, foolishly hoping for some sort of happy ending. He was acclaimed in his field, he’d brought closure to the family, he’d saved the child. By all accounts, he SHOULD have been pleased with the way things turned out. Caught the killer. Kid and his family were safe. Norman got famous.
But try as he did, he couldn’t get the IMAGES out of his head. He’d see the kid in the well, he’d hear the whirs of the conveyors. It wasn’t limited to his dreams, either. He’d turn and suddenly see a flash of UNDERSEA in his periphery, a fish swimming in the air. Or it’d be a little tank crawling on his desk. Or it’d be the tortured scream of the killer as he fell to his death.
He left his office, polished shoes clacking against the gleaming floor. An apologetic smile touched his lips; he was five minutes late to their meeting. He was met with a woman and a child– presumably her child. The thought sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. “Carla Valenti-Kane?” he asked. “Sorry about the wait.”
Glancing up at the man as he approached them, a chuckle with a shake of her head as she rose up and shook his hand.
❝ Thank you for seeing me on such a short notice. I’m sure my office faxed all the details on my case so far. I’ve done most of the work myself on my off time. I just have nothing else, I was wondering since you seem to come highly recommended even by the NYPD you can be an extra set of eyes on all of this. That is if you are willing to help me. I will be sure to return the favor if you ever have to come to New York to solve something. ❞
Carla seemed completely at a loss over this situation, then Valencia stood up, and scoffed at the man, then looked back up at her mother.
❝ He left us because you did something to him, just admit it mom. He’s not missing, he LEFT US. I’m sorry Mr. Suit. My mom is obviously in denial. ❞
An irritation chuckle left Carla’s lips,
❝ One minute Agent Jayden. ❞
Grabbing her daughters arm harshly and sitting her back down in the seat it seemed like she had to play hard mom to her daughter for speaking out of turn in matters that didn’t even concern her. Speaking sternly and in a hushed threatening tone to her. Grabbing her ipad from her bag, and handing it over to her daughter. Informing her to just sit there and keep her mouth shut was the best option.
❝ I apologize for my daughter’s behavior. She’s not normally that rude. Is there somewhere we can go to discuss this in more private detail? ❞
✍
( I didn’t even use my tablet either. )
Send me '✍' and I will draw your muse horribly on MSPaint
Stepping out of the station after a long day, a slight yawn before scanning over some files before putting them away into her purse. Eyes slowly peeled back up, before Carla felt her heart trickle to a stop, the surrounding sound deafened an all too familiar feature of a person struck her like a semi truck. A tilt of her head, as everything began to move at a more quickened pace again. The person was starting to walk away, as she followed. Trying to pick up some semblance of something that once was.
❝ Lucas? ❞
Saying under her breath and to herself, not wanting to believe it. Why would he be back here? And in broad daylight. Her emotions filled her, before she approached the man and turned him around and hugged him tightly. Deep feelings overtook her gut instinct at that moment.
❝ Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s you. ❞
Pulling away from the hug and placing her palms onto his cheeks and kisses him a few times.
▍ ❅ @hcadsmith
ofsiin:
“ heh, yeah throw ‘em both in. i think they’ve got a thing for each other, y’know ?? “ a smirk on her lips, she remembered her time as a rookie rather fondly ( though she was glad she’d risen the ranks now ). still, she kind of liked pairing them up from time to time. gary and mary, despite their unfortunate pairing of names, were enamored with each other, she was sure of it, “ but yeah, sounds good, i’ll meet you there, “
profile finds its way clasped between her fingers, bag slung over one slim shoulder while her free hand swipes the half empty coffee cup. she manages to drain it with speed, tossing it into the rubbish bin before she enters the captain’s office, placing the profile on the desk. there’s not too much discussion, apart from specifying the movements of her and her partner, the more time they spend on these details, the more time they spend not out finding leads. so far evidence has been short, only really running off of projected documents and looking through the eyes of psychiatric professionals. they needed something solid, and quickly, as the board was beginning to fill with photographs and their list of people to talk to grew.
she makes her way down to the garage, sliding shades over her eyes as she spots carla, “ i let her know that we’d be by, but i don’t think she registered. finding out your kid’s dead does that to you. still not the worst reaction i’ve gotten, i remember one woman took a wing at me with an umbrella stand. and yet, can’t blame her, “ she slides into the passenger seat, pulling out the victim’s file, “ 522 park drive, “ she mutters as she programs it into the gps, “ reminds me of my high school years, fuck. did a stint at horace mann. where’d you shack up when you were a teen ?? “
over the years she had learnt one thing; remaining human could mean the difference between where you ended up on the force. take shit too seriously, and you could end up in therapy before you made detective. so she asked stupid questions, sometimes talked about her life, offered to invite carla around for dinner with her kid every so often ( though always to a restaurant, she didn’t want to accidentally murder her own partner with her cooking ). anything to distract from the overwhelming scent of death.
They had two totally different childhood experiences, Carla was raised by a pair of working class immigrants, but her family did the best they could given the circumstance of trying to provide a better life for their daughter. A slight smirk, before a shake of her head.
❝ Abraham Lincoln High School. I think? It’s been awhile I try to forget about it. It was a rough time for me. But now I’m kinda having to relive it through my daughter a little bit. ❞
Her daughter was the main bliss in her life, the thing that kept her going day in and day out. Everything she did was for her, after the GPS was added she had started up the car and put her seat belt on and pulled out of the garage and headed towards their destination. A few more alerts from her cellphone, but she kept her mind on the task at hand. Eventually after being directed by the monotonous voice coming from the navigator. She knew roughly the area they were going to, the traffic was smooth. Getting there in the estimated time given. Parking the car, and undoing her seat belt. This was the part Carla absolutely hated but it needed to be done,
❝ I don’t know what I would do if Valencia was murdered. I probably wouldn’t get out of bed for a few years. ❞
Grabbing her phone up and checking the message, a soft chuckle before pocketing it. Knowing she was acting inappropriate, it was a relief somewhat for what they were about to walk into. Getting out of the car, and closing the door and walking around. Waiting for Fallon.
❝ Alright let’s just get this over and done with. I can tell it’s going to be a long day. ❞
ofsiin:
she doesn’t question this; what does she know of parental separation ?? little to nothing. she was lucky in that fact. instead she falls silent as carla rings the boston number, crossing her ankles as she glances to the phone, a pen sitting between her fingers. unable to hide a smirk as she hears the accent for the second time that morning, she glances towards her partner with a conspiratorial glint in her eye.
remaining silent over the duration of the call in fear that a childish giggle may find itself slipping between her lips, she stands to stretch her legs, eyes glancing to the case file for a moment or two. she’d said it more than once and she’d say it again, everything about this case made her skin crawl. these girls with their dark brown hair and chocolate brown eyes, it was obvious the guy was obsessed. she couldn’t ignore the fact that a decade ago, she would have fallen into his category for killing. her partner would have just as easily.
arms fold, “ ain’t opposed to that, the sooner it gets done the better, “ she eyes the papers as carla passes them to her, sucking on the inside of her cheek, “ yeah … isn’t much we haven’t seen before … the pattern, probably a professional, going for white male mid 30s to 40s … christ, this shit gets grimmer the more i read it. these girls are barely … “
her lips purse, eyebrows pushing together in a harsh line, “ i’ll run it by the chief if you wanna get some rookies on the toxicology report, saves us running down to the morgue, that places screws me up. bad luck all around there, i fuckin’ swear … n’ we gotta go talk to the latest victim’s mother … a … “ she places down the profile to walk over to the board, tapping a picture ripped straight from a graduation ceremony, “ alva diaz … in the bronx, “
she turns to look expectantly at carla, a cocked eyebrow, “ sound good ?? “
❝ Yea.....that sounds great actually. I can handle the morgue and the toxicology, if you want to inform the chief. Who you think I should put on it? Gary seems ambitious. But Mary has been doing well, hell I’ll put them both on in the morgue. I will meet you in the garage in 15 minutes. ❞
Turning to grab her purse and grabbing up the file placing it under her arm. Picking up her coffee before she started to head out of the office and take care of the toxicology portion. The results would take a few days to return, but unlikely it will say something different, then they already knew. The profiling would have to be put off for a little bit. Carla then started to head for the parking garage, taking a few minutes to stop by and talk to Sue about her grandchildren.
Sure the job was grim, but it was these small portions of the people you worked with that made it all good. After a gab session, she continued on her way to the parking garage. Finishing her coffee up before stepping out into the garage, her phone then went off in her pocket. Reaching in and taking it out, before unlocking the screen. A slight smirk came over her lips, as she wrote a message back, slipping it back into her pocket. Glancing around for Fallon, finally spotting her coming out the garage door.
❝ Have you informed Ms. Diaz we were on our way to talk? ❞
Grabbing her keys out and walking towards her car.
ofsiin:
fallon is at her desk when clara sweeps into the room, glancing upwards with a small smile on tired lips. yeah, her partner was a couple minutes late, not that she minded. she had stopped asking too many questions when she’d first learnt about the other woman’s daughter ( there was little envy there, a dog was enough for her for now ), she knew that children were a handful from the tales of her own childhood.
a nod to the coffees, smirk growing on pale features, “ she sounds like me when i was young. i’m no parent but i figure the best way is to not try and squash her. that’s what my mother did to me. took me a long while to even it, “ leaning back in her chair, she takes her own coffee cup, sipping at it tentatively, “ you’re all good, though you might have to spot me at lunch. i’ve been here since the graveyard shift left, hardly got a wink of sleep last night. this latest kill … man, it’s fucking with my head, “
setting her cup down, she straightens her back, a sharp nod of her head, “ yeah, he left a message. quite an accent he’s got. something from the morgue too, but it’s nothing particularly new with the latest autopsy. we know this guy’s MO by now and he’s stickin’ to it. figured i’d wait for you to get here until we hit your guy up again, “
❝ Yeah, she still thinks it’s my fault her father left us. Like somehow we had some big blowout fight and he just left. Which is not the case at all. ❞
Takes a gander down at her watch quickly, and then reaches for the phone. Hesitating a little before picking it up, and dialing the number for the Boston office.
❝ Yes, can I be transferred to office line 6493. ❞
Moving from her desk and then grabbing her coffee and heading over to the board which they had built up together with all the crime scene pictures and the victims and their last known whereabouts. Taking the side of the cup and biting it a little bit. Before the voice came in on the other line.
❝ Hello Agent Jayden, I was just wondering if you got back our report we filed on..........yes. Ok I need you to go ahead and fax over the profiling you have down there at your office. ❞
A bit of silence, before narrowing her gaze and turning back to Fal, setting down her coffee and then mocking with her hand that this guy liked to talk a lot. It was bad enough his accent was thick,
❝ Yes, okay and thank you for all your help. Hopefully if you’re ever investigating in the New York area we can be of some help to you. You have a good day. ❞
Walking back over to her desk, and hanging up the phone. Soon after the fax started to ring, and the paper started to scroll out. Taking the paper and glancing it over, before handing it over to her partner.
❝ We should call the group together and get this profile to the other departments as soon as we can. ❞
fahrenheit | guilt is a chilling feeling
WHY WOULD YOU NEED A KEY TO UNLOCK YOUR APARTMENT DOOR FROM THE INSIDE WHAT THE HELL