introducing: vernon james of circle of knives
vernon’s familiar with the feeling of being in handcuffs. he leans back in his seat, fiddling with the cold metal against his wrists. he could probably break his wrists to get out, but he did that last time. the cuffs are tighter this time.
lieutenant crewe is the one who greets him. vernon’s had some run-ins with crewe before - he’s never scared, but he really isn’t scared of crewe. he quirks an eyebrow at the officer. “i probably could’ve gotten to him this time, y’know,” he says.
crewe rests his hands on the table in front of vernon, leaning in eerily close. vernon can smell tuna on his breath. “he almost killed you, dumbass,” he scowls. “you weren’t close at all.” he pulls back just a little, which vernon is grateful for. “you’re useless.”
“cool! thanks.” vernon lifts a lanky leg to rest on the interrogation table, his heel landing mere centimeters away from crewe’s fingers. “if you guys wanna catch bryan so bad, why don’t you... i don’t know, give me some fuckin’ help? i mean, i’ve gotten closer than any of you lazy bastards--”
“shut the fuck up, james,” crewe spits, whacking vernon’s foot with a meaty hand. “we don’t need your help.”
“okay... well don’t come crawlin’ back to me when a bunch of you guys get killed and you want a mutant scapegoat.”
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