Congrats! You've just been hired as a Mediator, which A.I. are you choosing as your partner?
Ives — Breaching/SWAT
Military Grade, Highly Protective, Will Take a Bullet for You & Live, Bodyguard Vibes, Very Caring & Careful with You, Background Dweller, "They ordered no pickles", Great Listener, Doesn't Judge, Remembers Fine Details, Lil Bit Eldrich Horror, Has A RoboDog, Patience of A Saint, Tol, Secretly Shy, Always Alert
Mikki — EMS/Technician
Your Health and Safety Are #1, The Best Support You Can Get, Can Heal Anything, Extremely Smart, "Is that guy bothering you?", Would Give You a Cute Nickname, Healer to Doom Guy in .05 Seconds, Always Brings Snacks, Will Hold Your Hand, Let's You Pick Your Band-Aid Design, Smol, Would Bring You Flowers
Beau — Patrol
Happy to See You, Say Goodbye to Bad Days, Mr. Sunshine, A Lil Bit Clueless, Leaps Before he Looks, Gets Most Sayings Wrong, Would Braid Your Hair, Loves Your Laugh, Hard to Piss Off, 80's Fashion Sense, Always Trying to Steal Your Coffee, Grade A Hugs, Loves Affection & Snuggling, Bad Jokes & Movie References
Xavier — Dectective
Doesn't Do Small Talk, Walking Encylopedia, Emote? Don't Know Her, "Don't touch me, you can't afford it.", Humans Are Gross, Legal vs Illegal Balance Beam Champ, Unimpressed, Sarcastic 2.0, Bad Cop, Will Laugh if You Get Hurt, A Lil Offputting, Acts Bothered by You – Secretly Likes You, Forgets to Blink
Jot — Forensics
Talks a Mile A Minute, Would Love to Ramble about Your Interests, Always Taking Pictures, Golden Retriever Energy, A Bit ADD, Hums Little Tunes, Never Grossed Out, Keeps a List of Your Favorites/Icks, Scared of Thunderstorms, Voice A Little Staticy From Constant Excitement, Will Probably Draw You A Lot
Xavier the darkness god which is also a fallen angel.He tends to be the lone wolf of the gods.He like to be where quiet areas are.he still decays stuff :D
If ur wondering how big this remake of him is here yah go.Like that was from last year.yay hes a human xD
an absolute rant about task force eclipse below the cut! cw for mentions of kidnapping, torture, positive law enforcement depictions, grief, gunshot wounds mentioned in passing, mention of noncon if you squint and have the right context
what i love so much about jules callie and taylor's (eventual) friendship is that they're all victims of something, and they don't even realize it at first. they don't see how similar they are, but then they do, and it clicks, and they realize how close they've gotten
taylor's got an absolutely horribly painful backstory. jules has gone through so much loss. callie is a captive and potential vicitm of a serial killer. all three of them carry so much baggage and trauma and its all different, but it all overlaps, too, and the three of them grow so close in the recovery arc, like i genuinely cannot wait to write the way they heal together, the way they help each other through the hard times.
like yes callie is the center point, and she faces the most torment during the timeline of task force eclipse (rivaled perhaps only by xavier but even then emotionally callie takes it so much worse than him) but taylor's backstory is a huge factor for the way she acts and sees things and the way she interprets everything. and jules's world is so colored by loss that most of her optimistic exterior is a facade.
just! they're my three sweethearts and their friendship means the world to me, especially since friendship/found family is one of the biggest themes of the story!!
and then there's everyone else's dynamics, too! val being there like a sister for callie. val and yvonne. kane being the rock taylor clings to after she's gone through hell; him being there for her even after it all happens. taylor and jules bonding. jules and reilly becoming best friends (him literally watching her get shot and almost die). taylor and callie. jules and callie. callie and xavier going from rivals/gruff partners to bonding over the horrific trauma they've both expreienced. phillip and hunter being besties. phillip and xavier and hunter being xavier's supporters after rescue. kane being like a mentor to them all. val becoming an unofficial member of the task force. yvonne being dragged into that by association and loving every second. yvonne and jules instantly bonding because they are coded the same way even if it doesn't seem like it.
content warning: law enforcement pov, positive law enforcement depiction, panic attack mention, condescending pov, dead body mention/description, branding (tattoo) mention, acid burn, murder
word count: 2156
Xavier Griffin was a fourteen-year veteran of the FBI, a former NSA agent, and, through plenty of trial and error, had discovered that he worked best alone. As his main task on this team was to ensure civilian safety, of course he could coordinate with others, but a partner? He’d been incredulous when Kane had told him Detective Morgan was flying in from New York, even if they both had chemistry backgrounds. A partner!? He had assured the SAC that there was no need, but Kane had been adamant—Xavier’s mother would have said the boss was being catégorique.
Still, he hadn’t gotten this far in his line of work by being stubborn. Xavier had let it slide—which was how he had ended up in the task force’s lab, watching Detective Morgan freak out and lose her breakfast over pictures of the killer’s horrid work.
Not being absolutely heartless, Xavier had attempted to comfort her, but…well, there was a reason he hadn’t become a therapist. He certainly hadn’t managed to get through to her, and his attempt to close the folder had only increased Morgan’s panic. Desperately clawing through it, she’d grabbed the close-up of the victim’s wrist, gasped, and stumbled back, wide-eyed.
It must have caused more noise than he’d anticipated, because Monroe and Sterling—for once not looking down at her phone or her reports—soon joined them in the lab, confusion and concern written across their faces. The moment they saw Morgan, clutching her chest, breathing hard as Xavier tried to steady her with whispered nothings, they had rushed forward, near-silent.
Sterling had quickly steered Morgan away by her shoulders, her even voice echoing through the lab—hey, hey, Morgan, look at me, it’s okay, take a breath, focus on me, tell me what’s wrong—and Xavier let the woman take his partner silently; the former UC who had a psych eval every few months could figure out whatever had caused Morgan’s panic better than he could.
“You guys alright?” Monroe leaned over to peer at the pictures, brows creased. The cybercrimes specialist glanced over at Morgan and Sterling, then back at Xavier.
“Yeah…” Xavier cast his partner a worried glance. “I don’t know what happened. One moment, she was asking me to show her the victims, the next she was panicking.” He decided to omit the part where she’d vomited—it wasn’t exactly a great second impression, and Morgan deserved a better reputation than that. For some reason, Xavier felt that her frantic behavior had a deeper cause than just squeamishness. He’d read her file: Callisea Morgan had worked in the Robbery/Homicide department of the NYPD, and had seen more than her fair share of bodies, murders, and other, less mentionable atrocities.
This shouldn’t have been any different.
But…for some reason, it was.
And he was going to get to the bottom of it, because an unstable partner in an already dangerous, volatile, and deadly case was the last thing Xavier needed. This task force wasn’t only a great thing for his resumé—it involved the lives of innocent people. Failure? It wasn’t something he would accept. It wasn’t something he could believe.
Monroe brought him back to the present with a shrug of his shoulders. “Kane told us she flew in from New York, and it doesn’t seem like she even got a chance to unpack. Maybe she’s just exhausted.” The FBI agent nodded to Morgan’s duffel bag, which she’d dropped near the door, a jacket slung over it. “She’s probably staying at a hotel, or a friend’s if she’s lucky.”
“Her file doesn’t have any connections in Chicago,” Xavier offered. He’d analyzed it extensively—she was so unimportant to the system that he had barely needed clearance for the information. “Probably a hotel. And yeah, she looks absolutely bone-weary.”
Monroe glanced over at the two women in the back of the lab, both speaking in soft tones, looking as calm as the professional government agents they were. Although Xavier himself had seen his partner’s reaction to the pictures, he could hardly believe that Morgan had composed herself so quickly; her efficiency made him doubt this was the first time she’d experienced a panic attack.
Gathering himself, Xavier smiled politely at Sterling, intending to ask Morgan whether she actually even had the skill to be on this team, but the redheaded agent didn’t even acknowledge him as she breezed past with the detective at her side, steps hurried.
Xavier glanced at Monroe, baffled. “She just—Sterling just stole my partner.”
The cybercrimes expert snorted, eyes trained on the spot where Taylor Sterling had just vanished with Xavier’s partner without so much as a word. Who does that? Sterling barely even knows me, and she spoke all of one sentence to Morgan when they were introduced.
“Why the hell did she just steal my partner?”
Monroe was chuckling, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Nearly everyone has heard of the legend that is Taylor Sterling, Griffin,” the man told him. “There are plenty of accounts and even more myths and twisted stories about her, but one thing has always remained the same no matter which tale you listen to: she doesn’t let anything stop her. Whatever she’s doing, I don’t intend to miss it.” He strode out with his hands in his pockets, following the two women and leaving Xavier alone.
What the hell?
Deciding that perhaps Monroe had a point, Xavier hurried out of the lab, casting the polished, ordinary room a last glance before he adjusted his cuffs and followed the sound of echoing footsteps down the long hall.
When he arrived in the main office, Sterling was lifting a stack of papers from her desk, and the others had all lifted their attention to her, although Reilly and Santos cast curious glances at Morgan, standing at the edge of the room silently. Xavier decided not to join her, and instead took a place near Monroe’s desk, occupied by the tech expert himself.
Sterling raised the folder she’d been looking for, turning to face the room. “Detective Morgan has made an impressive connection, everyone, and I think it’s important for us all to hear it.”
Xavier shifted his weight. An impressive connection? She barely saw anything in the picture to even recognize the acid. How did Morgan, of all people, make a connection? He trained his gaze on his partner, eyes narrowed slightly. If she felt the weight of his gaze, she didn’t acknowledge it, instead keeping her focus on Sterling and the others.
“Now,” Sterling opened the folder and drew out the photograph of the first victim, “this is the body found three weeks ago.” She put that one down and pulled out two more, their deaths, their destroyed bodies, so similar they were near-identical to the first. “These are the ones found two weeks and one week ago, respectively.”
Had she been anyone else, an officer would have chimed in by now and told her to stop repeating basic information, but Taylor Sterling carried herself with such unwavering surety and poise that everyone in the room knew not to interrupt her. Something in her voice made this review seem like the most important information in the world.
“We all know that our killer’s three victims have an hours-old tattoo branded onto the inside of their wrist. Coincidentally, that tattoo is one of the few pieces of skin not burned away by acid.”
“It’s Latin,” Santos added. “The direct translation is ‘we are all crazy’, but having a dead language as our reference is… tricky, to say the least.” She bit her lip, studying whatever notes she’d been making. “It hasn’t brought up any matches yet, for…well, anything.”
Sterling nodded. “And that tattoo, it seems, has already appeared once in the past.” At the team’s puzzled glances, the redhead waved Morgan forward. “Detective Morgan, please tell us all what you know.”
Xavier gritted his teeth. What was even happening? Morgan had gotten to Chicago no more than an hour or two ago, and she’d been given access to the murder files a handful of minutes past. What did she think she knew? She was arrogant, cryptic, and probably psychotic.
“Thirteen years ago,” Morgan began, her voice loud enough to be heard by all, “Meredith Emery, an accountant, was kidnapped and reported missing. Her body was found days later, dumped in the back alley of her own neighbourhood, in Newark, New Jersey. She was murdered in the exact manner that these three men and women were, and…” the detective inhaled sharply. “She had that exact same tattoo branded on her wrist.”
“Emery, you said? With an E, not an O?” Knight was tapping away on his keyboard, searching through files. He glanced up at Morgan for the confirmation.
“With an E,” Morgan confirmed. “E-M-E-R-Y. First name Meredith—case number 803641.”
Xavier crossed his leg over the other, drawing himself up. “How do you know all this, Morgan? Do you just peruse strange murder investigations that happen around your home and memorize them all?”
Morgan stiffened, raising herself up, and for the first time since he’d met his new partner, Xavier saw fury, not fear or panic or optimism, in her eyes. Fury.
“I know this,” she gritted out, “because I was the lead detective on the case. It was the first murder I ever investigated. And maybe you don’t have the capability for empathy, Griffin,” she practically spat the name, “but I make a point to never forget the names, faces, and details of those I do not manage to bring to justice.”
So you failed? What a surprise. Instead of voicing the thought, Xavier gave a shallow nod. “My apologies, then. Perhaps you could do us a favor and bring out the case file of Miss Emery?”
“I’ll give my friends in New York a call. Kane will have the file by the end of the day.”
What a low blow. Kane? Not him? Not her goddamned partner? Xavier cast a glance around, but only Reilly seemed to have noticed the slight—from the slight smirk on his face, he found it more amusing than irritating.
“Amazing.” Knight clapped his hands together, and Xavier saw it for what it was—a weak attempt to dispel the tension rising around them. “While the actual murder file is something I can’t access, I pulled up Meredith Emery’s profile.” He turned his computer screen around, showing it to the group. The pale blue eyes of a smiling middle-aged woman stared back at all of them.
It was a photograph. The shot ended at Meredith’s shoulders, but her hair was clearly longer than that, wavy and dark brown, and she had a silver pendant hanging at her neck. She reminded Xavier faintly of his partner, but it was really the general space around her, the beaming smile she cast up into the camera, more than any of her facial features.
“That’s her,” Morgan confirmed softly. The room’s attention shifted back to her, but the detective’s eyes were fixed on Meredith. “And…that tattoo doesn’t say ‘we’re all crazy here’.” She ripped her gaze away and appraised them all. “It’s a reference to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland—‘we’re all mad here.’”
Santos stiffened, half-rising out of her seat. She was so startled it was almost comical. “What? How did we not know that?”
“This killer’s gotten better over the years, but when Meredith was murdered, they left behind a small keychain with the Mad Hatter on it. That’s what led me to make the connection.”
“This—we need to reanalyze everything.” Monroe was already out of his seat, rummaging through his own papers. “It’s clear whoever this is is having fun with their murders. Let’s see if we can find any more hints like that.”
“Thank you, Morgan,” Sterling chimed in, sweeping her red hair over a shoulder. “For everything. If you hadn’t been added to this task force, we probably wouldn’t have made the connection until much later—if we ever made it at all.”
“You’ll have the file soon,” the detective promised, retreating to the main lobby, phone already in hand, ringing as she dialed up one of her colleagues. The echoes of her whispered conversation trailed across the room as she turned a corner, getting quieter and quieter with every step.
Xavier followed her with his eyes until his partner disappeared, then drew his attention back to the folder on Sterling’s desk, photographs lying on top of it. The tattoo of the last victim was stark against the manila, space-black ink on burned, bloodless, ivory skin.
A quick search of the internet, if only to feel a little useful, pulled up the full quote Morgan had mentioned. Xavier studied it on his phone screen, then pasted it into a message to the entire task force. Phones pinged as the words went through.
“Oh, you can't help that,” said the Cat: “we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.”
