#cynicomplex

[shenoiir]

       an organized crime involving rosa as a driver ? not possible. she only takes single orders. drives one person. their always-talking mouths are already too high of a risk. the driver, though ... the driver always knows who is doing what in the town. gotham’s street lights are like a home to her. 

       ‘ what exactly do you want to know ? ‘ a paper cup in her hand. slender fingers covered in blurred-red. it’s cold outside. tip of her tongue licks off the coffee leftovers from her front teeth.

       𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥.  —  @cynicomplex​ 

[agentxiii]

    ☂  »    @cynicomplex​  +  cont.  !

A LIGHT DRIZZLE     punctures an otherwise mutual silence in a regular pitter-patter upon the shell of the car,   as they wait for something to happen across the street.     It's been half a day now   ––––   or the equivalent of three coffees,   three burgers,   and a couple of brief stretch intervals littered between the two,   over the slow hours they've spent monitoring the entrance to what would otherwise appear to be an average, downtown garage.     It's getting quite dark,   now   ––––   at least the street lights still work in this part of the city,   and the glows of intervaled pale-yellow are enough to descry one of two suspects on their list.          ❛    I’m multi-tasking.    ❜          Slender limbs pull themselves off the dashboard,   but it does nothing to satiate the pins and needles shooting through.     The ex-spy has experienced much more entertaining stake-outs than this first hand.          ❛    You really don’t want to know what i think about all this,   but it’s definitely time to shake the bag a little.    ❜

[brkmans]

𝙅𝙊𝙀 𝘿𝙀𝙑𝙍𝘼𝙃     ╱      you’re just stalling now .

true. but it wouldn’t be in barry’s best interest to say so. instead, the hitman plays dumb, a feat some might say he’s incredibly good at. ‘oh, sorry, i’m... i’m just trying to tell the whole story,’ says he, thumbs pressed together in his lap. ‘i’m not , uh- i’m not keeping you from anything, am i? if you’re running late, we can talk later. i’ll, um... i’ll - probably be around.’

@cynicomplex​​     ╱      the princess bride .

[lapdecker]

you know, they really don't make bad guys like they used to.    (  @cynicomplex​  )

                         “    are   you    calling    yourself    old,   ?    ”    

             remark   is    uttered    in    a    jesting    manner,    the    curve   of    a    smile    on    her    lips    as    she    glances    up   barely    from    the    files    on    the    desk,    the    ones  they’ve    been    analyzing    for    hours    –    nothing   stands    out,    according    to    her    companion,   nothing    that    makes    this    criminal    remarkable    or   original.    Chloe    herself    thinks    that    for    a   guy    in    his    late    twenties,    his    criminal    record   is    disturbingly    impressive    in    the    worst  way    –    auto    theft,    armed    robbery,    possession,   on    and    on    and    on    the    list    goes.   However,    the    other    detective    scoffs,    and    Chloe   can    only    take    it    with    good    humor,    perhaps   solely    because    she’s    exhausted    and    her    brain   has    begun    to    cave    in.

              she   turns    a    page    from    the    folder,    scans    it   quickly    before    shifting    her    attention    back    to   the    other,    and    her    smile    is    still    visible    on  her    face,    despite    her    attempts    to    conceal    it   –    the    last    thing    she    wants    is    for    her   superior    to    think    she’s    mocking    him,    but    truth   be    told,    it    pains    her    sometimes    to    bite   back    her    sardonic    remarks    for    the    sake    of   making    a    good    impression    on    assholes    who    will   still    look    down    on    her.

           “    I   don’t    think    i    wanna    know    what    kind    of   bad    guys    you’ve    chased    down    in    the    past,    ”   she    adds    in    between    a    snort,    reaching    for   the    ever    present    mug    of    coffee    on    the    desk,   “    this    file    alone    is    giving    me    a    headache.   ”

[fcches]

i expect content that'll f me up

DO    YOU    MEAN    YOU    EXPECT    ME    TO    ACTUALLY    WRITE ?          fake

[qunpin]

                                              𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙽𝙴.

𝙴𝚇𝚃.    𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚃.   -   S𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙴𝚃

𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎  𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚙   𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝    𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜   𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔   𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎.   𝙸𝚗   𝚒𝚝’𝚜   𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚖,   𝚊   𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚜.   𝚂𝚑𝚎   𝚒𝚜    𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗-𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍.   𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕   𝚊𝚗𝚍   𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚎.    . 𝚂𝚑𝚎     𝚙𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜,    𝚑𝚎𝚛    𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎   𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚜   𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍.    𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐    𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎    𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.    𝚂𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍,    𝚜𝚑𝚎     𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚜    𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘    𝚝𝚑𝚎     𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜.

                                                                                             𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺.

            poisoned   below  ,   the  bellows   of  thunder   creeping   through   the    grey    clouds,         EYES    are   poisonous  beings  ,           fingers    clinging   to    a  camera  and    SNAPPING  .          She’s   wild  caught  ,   springing   into   winter,          they   suspect  her  to   be  the  beast  that  feast    yet   they  are  unsure.   so   they  study   her,        follow   her    ,  and   she  knows   it.    she’s    a   small   frame,     body  tiny      -  yet   filled  with  such  anguish   ,          there  be  a  moment,   calloused   ,  cold   and  quiet,  which  she  thinks,    maybe   I  deserve  this .        she  waste  only  one  day  to  feel  sorry  for   herself.   One.

I’m not a good woman, boyish and flammable - skin tight suit against bones teeth a cleavers sharp edge, mouth engulfed in flame in engulfed him, my tongue taste like sex & cranberry juice. my fingers bleed perfidiously my hand is full with metal -- the barrel of a gun peering down my sight, between my luscious green eyes. and before the trigger shoots and BANGS I’d know that I fulfilled, nothing.

      she   wolf   .       that  is  she.     with  a    brute    of   silver   by   her   side,      eyes   hidden  behind   thick   shades,     hands   conform  to  the  curve   of    her   hips,    mouth  pressed   to   her   ear    and   whispers  ,  ‘    we’re   being   watched‘      these   words   almost    send   a  spiking   chill  down   her   pack,     yet   she   knows  the  actions   required.    the    smile   comes   naturally,   unprovoked  and  red     ---  far   afar  it  would  appear  she’s   laughing   at  the  man.    In  the  most   natural  alignment  she  could,   she   presses    herself    further   in   him,   arm   looped   around   his   waist   as  she  turns  to  face   him  ---    public   display   of  forced  affection   &   attraction  .      through   that   bewildering   smile , she   says   something.   

❛❛      PDA   ,   interesting   choice ,    makes    people    uncomfortable  and   would  make  whoever    watching  us   feel   like an   absolute  fucking   pervert.     ❜❜    chuckles  ,    fingers   caressing    bruised    cheek,   she   doesn’t   say   much  after   that  besides   looking  at   him,    ❛❛      be    my   eyes   ,   tell   me   if   you   see  them.        ❜❜    following   the    tip  of   her   toes,     she   kisses   him   on   the   mouth   -     it   isn’t  romantic   or   a  sheer   bit   tender ,    but    seductive  and   consuming   like    leaches,      no   matter   her   tongue    which   laps  over   his   .      It   is   pretend   after   all  ,     might  as   well    smile  for the  camera.     ❛❛      we’ll   take   the  train     ❜❜     a   whisper.  ( @cynicomplex touch meme 8 + 34 combined)  @cynicomplex​ @cynicomplex​

[wristful]

' let me just say, from the bottom of my heart: my bad. '

      stevie glares from the back of the car, right into the mirror with every ounce of frustration and hatred he can possibly muster. ( which isn’t a whole lot. he isn’t a spiteful kind of guy and even subconsciously, he can guess that devrah is just doing his job. sort of. even junkies can read newspapers now and then. )

       ‘  this what you do in your spare time, huh? rattle innocent people for the shits and giggles?  ‘

    all he gets is an eyeroll and a dismissive look back.  let me just say… my bad. 

[lapdecker]

“i don’t want you to go alone.”    (  @cynicomplex​  )

           “    with   all    due    respect,    I    think    I    can    handle    this   myself    just    fine.    ”

          Voice   is    determined,    despite    the    respectful    tone    it   retains    when    talking    to    a    fellow    LAPD    member   –    one    older    than    her,    no    less,    one    that   has    more    experience    in    the    matter    of    narcotics   than    she    does.    However,    Chloe    has    been    assigned   to    work    the    case    under    his    supervision,    and   that    means    that,    theoretically    speaking,    they   are    equals    when    it    comes    to    the   investigation.    Furthermore,    she    needs    to    prove   to    everybody    at    the    Police    Department    that    they  can    be    –    that    she’s    just    as    capable   as    any    man.

               you’re   too    pretty    to    be    a    cop    –    anybody    ever   told    you    that?

                 Going   undercover    isn’t    something    she    particularly   enjoys    –    not    because    of    the    greater    danger   that    exposing    herself    directly    to    the    underworld   of    Los    Angeles    might    signify,    but    because    it   feels    to    Chloe    as    if    it’s    used    like    an   excuse    to    push    her    aside    from    the    main   investigation.    Oh,    she    looks    pretty,    and    she   used    to    be    an    actress    –    surely    she    can   play    the    dumb    starlet    looking    to    score    some   cocaine.    And    yet,    dutifully    so,    Chloe    accepts   all    jobs    and    orders    from    her    superiors    without  complaint    –    she    has    to.    it’s    a   matter    of    the    basic    chain    of    command    –    one   day,    she    promises    herself,    she’ll    be    the   one    calling    the    shots.

             “    i’ll   be    fine.    ”    i’ll    be    fine?    That   sounds    cheap    –    yet    she’s    not    asking   for    permission    to    go    on    her    own.    it’s    not   a    demand,    but    it’s    not    a    request,    either.   And    once    she’s    stepped    into    the    black   stilettos,    she    grabs    the    microphone    from    the   table,    begins    placing    it    within    the    cleavage    of  her    dress,    “    it’s    not    how    i’d    like    to   solve    this    case    but    it    can’t    be    helped.   ”    idle    shrug,    poker    face    remains    set    in   stone    upon    her    features,    “    I    appreciate    the   concern,    but    it’s    not    my    first    time    undercover   –    or    chasing    around    criminals    on    heels.    ”