#beautykillertaskforce

[bruisedconscience]

@beautykillertaskforce ( from answer! )

“You know, that’s the first interesting thing I think I’ve heard come out of your mouth. What a delightful idea.” 

Aaron rubbed across the back of his neck and offered up a small, mousy smile. “I been think...think-thinkin’ about it for a wh...while. Haven’t got off much since..since I really started liv-livin’ here, so...” 

Roy might have, Aaron had felt drained a few times, and tired, but he’d chalked it up to general fatigue. But Roy might’ve been doing things like that without him. The Good Book said not to, though, so Aaron tried to avoid it. And pre-marital... anything. 

But this was different, right? Absolutely. So long as they didn’t.....copulate. 

[untestxd]

@beautykillertaskforce​  ♥ 'ᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴀ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ

“ ʜᴇʏ.  ʜᴇʏ----!”    The first call to the stranger goes unheard, prompting     a second, more physical approach as the musician     taps away at his shoulder. Unlit cigarette hanging from     his lip, he continues to provoke the man at the bar until    he turns to face the musician. 

              “I’m fucking ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ.   You got a light?”

[cracknoir]

@beautykillertaskforce​ // liked.

Summer rain pelted the shoulders of Jimmy’s suit jacket, the small congregation of people stood around the grave, the priest spoke about God, spoke about heaven, spoke about bad choices. This was the third funeral Jimmy had been to. He didn’t usually let it get under his skin, didn’t usually let it bother him.

He remembered how Crystal would tussle his hair when she walked into the clubs back room, like one would pet a cat when returning home from work. Jimmy didn’t know her that well, didn’t know much about her life or who she was outside of the club, he knew her the way one would know a coworker -- vaguely, without proper context. He remembered how she would send Jimmy a wink, how they could make each other laugh just by looking at one another, back then Jimmy was shy, quiet, she would make sure he was looked after, fed, clothed, he remembered these details, and forgot so much more, but those little details were enough. He had hoped she had gotten out the game, hoped she had moved on in the years since they last spoke.  

Serial killers rarely made the news, not in the modern day. There was nothing about the twelve murders, nothing about Crystal. Nobody cared. Jimmy didn’t know it for a fact, but he had always assumed Crystal was a mother -- and if she wasn’t, she was more of a mother to Jimmy than the woman he ran away from way back when.  

“We should do something,” Molly said, when they were back at the Snow White, everyone dressed in black. “We should find the fucker that did this. Make him hurt.” It was the first thing she’d said all day. She was closer with all the girls. She wouldn’t show it, but Jimmy knew Molly was in pain. Maybe that’s why he entertained the idea of trying to find this guy. 

Sometimes being a criminal was boring, more akin to doing daily chores. To keep himself occupied, he did cocaine, or smoked weed, or drank, the couple of days after the funeral all ran into one. In the morning, he would steal a car, preferably on the other side of town. Then, he’d drive to the lot in front of the precinct for around five AM. Then, he’d wait. Jimmy had a lot of blackmail information on a lot of people, but he singled Archie out using a very complex method of selection: he covered his eyes and chucked a dart at a bunch of pictures he’d pinned to the wall, it had landed square between Archie’s eyes. Jimmy understood it was overkill to spy on this guy, yet no matter how much he wanted to go raging in half-cocked like he usually did, he refrained, he was taking his ventures into vigilantism very seriously.

The hatchback with the smashed window rolled up next to Archie as he left the cop-shop, “hey -- pig.” He wrapped on the cars door in an attempt to get his attention as he crept the car along behind the guy, “get in the car. We need to have little talk.” 

[archiveghostofaformerself]

RANDOM TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT / ARCHIE – @beautykillertaskforce​ [ text ] –– is your delayed response due to the massive amount of judging going on?

     ( rayne » archie ) my delayed response is because there’s nothing to say

[pursuedinterest]

@beautykillertaskforce​

Being loaned one of the conference rooms seemed so against the normal. Then again James quickly took to using the whole room. Midnight asleep underneath the table. Things up on the board, papers spread out and nobody interrupting him. Almost a dream of sorts; getting lead on the case too. 

Focused so much that it took him a few minutes to notice somebody had entered. “You are?” 

[bruisedconscience]

@beautykillertaskforce => Gretchen

Aaron had to do a double-take. No... That couldn’t be her, could it? She was supposed to be in jail. She’d been sentenced for a very, very long time, the way he could’ve been.

But he wasn’t in jail, either, so he supposed he shouldn’t be so surprised.

Aaron swallowed and took a step closer to her, standing and waiting for a boring, cheap coffee in this vibrant, expensive little cafe. He reached up and tapped her shoulder. Her hair looked different, but Aaron was so sure...

“I’m sor...sor-sorry,” Aaron managed, keeping his voice relatively low so as to not be overheard, “but... Aren’t you the...the-the lady from the new-news?”

[archiveghostofaformerself]

I DON’T FEEL SO GOOD / ARCHIE – @beautykillertaskforce​ ☀ receiver has a mental breakdown and sender tries to comfort them

     THEY’RE A RARITY AT THIS POINT, but once in a while something hits a little too close to home. sometimes it just gets her at the right time and she can’t hold it together anymore; rayne makes sure no one is around when it happens.

     she needs a distraction, a release, something else to focus on. anything at all. her first response is one she hasn’t turned to in years, not since she was a teenager: rage. anything she can get her hands on is grabbed. things hit the walls and smash or splinter into irreparable pieces. it’s loud, messy, and bound to attract attention.

     in her haste to get away, though, she’s forgotten to lock the door. it shouldn’t be a surprise when he comes into the room rather abruptly, but it is and it means the next object thrown connects with the wall barely a foot from where he stands.his presence stops her in her tracts for a moment, chest heaving with laboured breaths while her form trembles.

     ❝get out,❞ it’s hissed out between gritted teeth.

[bruisedconscience]

@beautykillertaskforce ( from answer! )

Gretchen wasn’t especially fond of Aaron, but in most situations she would put up with him if she had to. This, however, was not most situations. This was more of a “We are standing over a woman strapped to a table, about to carve her up” situation, and having Aaron arrive to witness this would be… . inconvenient at best, catastrophic at worst. She hurried around the table to Roy and slapped him full in the face. “Get yourself together,” she hissed at him. 

Roy hadn’t given this whiny cunt’s looks a second thought. She wasn’t very attractive to him, so what good would paying her face any attention do? 

But Aaron had started complaining that she looked a lot like their third grade teacher--Didn’t she look like Miss Cunningham, Roy? Didn’t she just? What if she is? She’s not, is she? Is she?--and all his goddamn talking had started unhinging Roy, making his head go soft and his eyelids go heavy like he needed to sleep. And he was a little too fucking busy to sleep right now. Normally holding a knife so surely was enough to keep him grounded, but the chatter had just gotten too fervent. 

Until Gretchen rounded the table, her thigh brushing up against where the pristinely constructed restraints were anchored, pulled her arm back and thwacked him, just like he’d all but asked. Roy fell half a step to one side, propped himself up against the table beside this woman who looked like who-the-fuck-cared’s head, cradling his weapon close to his belly like it was some small, needy, newborn animal. Flashbacks coursed through his mind and made a dreadful shiver traipse visibly down his spine, though it probably just looked like the slap had excited his young buck vitality a bit. 

You think I’m playin’ with you? You look at me when I’m talkin’ to you! What on God’s green earth were you thinking, you little shit? 

Ah, perfect. Perfect. 

Roy opened his eyes up a little wider, the fog not completely gone but fading fast as his pulse beat across his cheek. He could taste blood oozing from his cheek, the stuff just starting to paint his bottom lip. He licked it away. 

“Don’t you tell me what to do.” He held the knife up and thrust it down hard, the blade coming down just between the woman’s two middle fingers, just knicking the inside edge to spook her and make it start to sting.