FOUL / PLAY

you all just love twisting the knife into one another.

[mollydobby]

“Mr. Blanc is a private investigator of great renown ...” ~ Knives Out (2019)

[curiouskilled-arch-deactivated2]

⇢ @suispect caught the cat

     The holiday season was dreadful. The smell of pine and cocoa running rampant through nostrils. All it did was prompt a particular blonde to swallow back what was left of that cocktail. A momentary distraction, if anything, to what a particular detective was rambling on about. “I’m so hard to handle” words are soured in interruption. Empty. She knows how troublesome she is, but she doesn’t care; “I’m selfish and I’m sad.” 

[suispect]

He has a handkerchief in his left jacket pocket, but he doesn’t offer it. Even in the short time he’s known Miss Hardy, she doesn’t seem the type for tears. Hardly minding the interruption, he takes the empty cocktail glass -A TRUE GENTLEMAN. “THE HOLIDAY SEASON CAN MAKE US ALL FEEL MELANCHOLY,” he attempts to sympathize. “IF A DISTRACTION IS IN ORDER --A LEGAL ONE, THAT IS --THEN I’M SURE THE PARTYGOERS WON’T MISS YOU MUCH. OR ME, IF YOU DESIRE COMPANY.”

[suispect]

are benoit blanc and detective lieutenant elliot crime-solving professionals? you betcha! do they make up casework as an excuse to see each other and sometimes hook up? also yes.

[singerrrsongwriterrr-deactivate]

Why did you pick your URL?

[suispect]

“WHO IS THAT GUY?”

ind. priv. sel. BENOIT BLANC of KNIVES OUT (2019)

[rnsom-deactivated20241001]

suispect     /    benoit    .

Ah. Bait, taken. Benoit restrains a self-satisfied smile as Ransom’s anger (jealousy? well, he’ll deal with that concerning development later) rears its head. He unfolds the note from his jacket pocket and slides it across the table. “THIS IS THE LATEST.”

He leans back in his chair, all arrested motion despite his need for answers. This is why Benoit hates personal cases. It’s so much harder to be detached, objective. “MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?”

impatient hand snatches the piece of paper before benoit’s fingers slide off of it – ransom huffs in  frustration,  the evidence crumpling a little in his angry grip, because  it’s fucking dumb  that he has to be here, looking at it, and somebody else is out there, making threats at ransom’s expense.     “NO.”     – and he means it. the  bullshit message  looks like nothing anyone from the happy thrombey bunch would send; even if he takes the  little nazi bastard  into consideration. he throws the paper back onto the table and leans back in the chair, runs a hand through his hair.     “TELL ME, BLANC, WHAT DO YOU SEE WHEN YOU LOOK AT THIS SHIT? ‘CAUSE I SEE SOMEBODY TRYING AND FUCKING FAILING TO IMPERSONATE ME. AND PLEASE, SPARE ME THE OVERCOOKED METAPHORS.”

[suispect]

An eyebrow raises -a stageplay, all of this, and while Benoit Blanc would never consider himself the star player, he thinks it pretty clear that Ransom isn’t either. Unless this is all part of the show. “YOU THINK THIS IS ABOUT YOU, HUGH?” He wasn’t going to use the kid’s first name, but he couldn’t resist the rhyme. “I HARDLY NEED ONE OF MY EXCELLENT METAPHORS TO TELL ME THAT YOU FEEL ENTITLED TO BE THE ONLY ONE MAKING MARTA CABRERA’S LIFE MISERABLE.” He leans back in his chair. “BUT AS I AM NO THERAPIST, WE’LL RETURN TO THAT LATER. NOW, YOU’RE GOING TO HELP ME SOLVE THIS MYSTERY AND ELIMINATE YOUR...LET’S JUST SAY COMPETITION.”

[suispect]

okay but why does det. lieut. elliot call benoit “benny”. are they dating? amicable exes? what is the truth?

[rnsom-deactivated20241001]

suispect   /    benoit    .

He reaches for his coffee mug, remembers that Ransom’s claimed it, and scowls anew. “I ASSURE YOU, I’M ONLY JEALOUS OF THE BLIND AND DEAF.” Setting down his book, he strides to the kitchen. “MUCH AS I APPRECIATE THE OFFER” (he doesn’t) “I PREFER TO MEET MY DATES IN RESTAURANTS, NOT PICK THEM UP BY THE PIERS.” Because one of them has a modicum of tact, Benoit doesn’t mention Ransom’s pot-kettle situation with daddy issues. He starts making himself tea, rattling the cups and bottles unnecessarily loud. “I ASSUME YOUR LOUD FRIEND WILL BE JOINING US FOR BREAKFAST?”

ransom leans against the kitchen counter, arms comfortably crossed – he eyes the other lazily and with  just a hint  of actual curiosity. being interested in the ways of a guy who is straight up  snatched  from one of his late grandfather’s novels is something ransom is not willing to admit even to  himself.     “YOU GOTTA PICK ‘EM UP SOMEWHERE FIRST. TAKING THEM OUT TO EAT IS THE SECOND STEP – WELL, FOR SOME PEOPLE.”     clearly not a part of the  some people,  ransom scrunches his nose at the other question.     “WHAT? NO. SHE LEFT ALREADY, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? WHAT IS IT WITH YOU AND EATING WITH PEOPLE? THAT A FETISH?”    it’s not often that ransom has to be actively rude and shoo his one-night-stands away in the morning; usually they know better themselves. this one, though –  a bit clingy.  saying that  his dad  would love to meet her seemed to do the trick, though. 

[suispect]

Benoit’s sure that his grand-mere would be rolling in her grave if she heard how his new ‘consultant’ treats women. He dodges the fetish question because dear Lord, he does not want to find out anymore about Ransom’s sex life (if that’s even possible.) “IT’S ONLY POLITE TO INVITE YOUR SEXUAL PARTNER FOR BREAKFAST AFTERWARD, ALTHOUGH I WAS PERHAPS A FOOL TO THINK YOU’D HAVE ANY MORE DECENCY TOWARDS HER THAN YOU’VE HAD TOWARDS ME AND MARTA.” His mention of Marta is entirely under the hope that it will distract Ransom, like Eloise with a new toy. “AND IF YOU HAVE THE MONEY FOR A COURTESAN, I’D THINK YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO AFFORD A SLEAZY HOTEL ROOM INSTEAD OF COMIN’ IN LATE AND WAKIN’ ME UP.”

[legionofcrows]

a truly underrated part of Knives Out is that the house and surrounding property are filled with props that are straight out of the mystery novels he writes, but it’s revealed that he refused to sell the screen rights to any of his work which means he either a) found weird stuff at antique malls and was like “that will be in my next great work” or b) he had them made specifically to put in his home and you can’t tell me that they’re not both equally plausible

[suispect]

@inheritsall

[daphneg121]

Daniel Craig + Tortoise (X)

[suispect]

ransom, constantly: hey OLD MAN

also ransom: sends his blackmail note in a fucking email

[suispect]

ransom: breathes

benoit: HOOEY

[hagarsays]

Knives Out got 3 Golden Globe nominations so happy for them especially for Ana and Daniel

[karlcagathon]

James Bond and Vesper Lynd in Venice - Casino Royale (2006)

[newgirlystuff-deactivated202402]

[rnsom-deactivated20241001]

suispect    /    benoit    .

Kid’s got a good poker face. “THEN I’M SURE YOU’D BE CONCERNED TO KNOW THAT OUR MARTA’S BEEN GETTING DEATH THREATS.” Benoit watches, narrowly, looking for a tell. His false smile is long gone. “IF NOT FOR HER, THEN FOR YOURSELF, SINCE THE LOCAL POLICE DO CONSIDER YOU A PRIME SUSPECT.” This case is personal to Benoit, in a way few cases are, but he cares for Marta greatly. And if this piece of scum has anything to do with the panicked state the young heiress was in when she called Benoit, well, that won’t do.

well, that’s not what ransom was expecting to hear.     “A PRIME – WHAT THE FUCK, BLANC.”     the fire that settled in his chest at the mention of  the girl  shifts. changes its direction – who  the fuck  would use somebody else’s motive and a shared story of two people? no,  no.  that’s  his.  he should be the one causing her to  tremble  at every noise that old fucking house makes. – and sure, ransom has made  some connections  since arriving, it wouldn’t exactly be a problem to get somebody to pull off a  prank  such as this one. but he wouldn’t, he didn’t.    (if he could do it, he would never use anyone else. never.)     “I WANNA FUCKING SEE THEM. SHOW ME THE DEATH THREATS.”    if it’s one of the thrombeys, he will know.

[suispect]

Ah. Bait, taken. Benoit restrains a self-satisfied smile as Ransom’s anger (jealousy? well, he’ll deal with that concerning development later) rears its head. He unfolds the note from his jacket pocket and slides it across the table. “THIS IS THE LATEST.” 

He leans back in his chair, all arrested motion despite his need for answers. This is why Benoit hates personal cases. It’s so much harder to be detached, objective. “MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?”

[inheritsall]

benoit.

“AH, I’M ONLY HERE FOR THE EXPENSIVE ALCOHOL,” he replies with a smile. It’s good to see her laugh. “STILL, IT’S A SHAME. ALL THESE PEOPLE CARE SO MUCH ABOUT WEALTH, AND THEY CANNOT SEE THAT YOU HAVE THE MOST VALUABLE THING OF ALL -A KIND HEART.” She’s gotten stronger, he thinks, or so it appears. There’s a straightness to her spine now, and she wears her inheritance well -much better than the rest of the crowd. “THAT MAN IN THE TAN SUIT IS AN UNDERCOVER REPORTER,” Benoit murmurs, shifting slightly towards the drinks table to make his lips harder to read. He’s no slouch, and the cheapness of the man’s suit combined with the greedy look in his eyes makes him easier to read than a picture book in Braille. “I’D ADVISE STAYIN’ AWAY FROM THE LOWLIFE IF YOU’RE AT ALL TIRED OF SPENDIN’ TIME ON THE FRONT PAGE.”

          she smiles again, a softer one, at his words. she always heard the saying that money changes people, warps them into someone different. harlan had told her that a few times, though she couldn’t imagine him being someone completely different than what she knew before he made his money. still, it make her worry about her own possible change,     &     she tries to let her be her before all this happened. it made her happy to know others still saw it. she sends a glance over her shoulder, searching until she saw the suit, lips quirking down. how many times had she dealt with media who didn’t know boundaries, either asking her either what she thought about the thrombey’s in general, if she ever thought she would speak to ransom again, the murders, or how     &     why she was the one to inherit harlan thrombey’s fortune.     (     too many times.      )     “      thank you. i don’t understand how they keep getting this close. is this why rich people have security ? should i be getting security ?      ”

[suispect]

He considers her question. “I CAN CERTAINLY RECOMMEND YOU SOME NAMES IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN PRIVATE SECURITY,” Benoit offers, pulling a small notebook out of the breast pocket of his dinner jacket. “IF IT HELPS AT ALL, MOST OF THE MEDIA LOVES YOU. THE NEW YORKER CALLED YOU THE ‘SPARK  INFLAMING A DYING ELITE.’ SOMETHIN’ LIKE THAT.” He’d read the article, of course. Found it highly entertaining. Benoit’s never really minded interviews -although he supposes it’s different for someone who can lie. He pours himself a glass of Pinot Noir, less for the taste and more because of the satisfying stain it could leave on the suit or dress of somebody who bothered them too much. “OR YOU CAN COME WITH ME TO MY NEXT CASE IN ALASKA UNTIL THE PRESS FINDS A NEW CHEW TOY. I DO DESPISE THE COLD, AND WOULD LOVE SOME COMPANY.” He offers the bottle to her.