until the end

liminality

[thrcughlincs]

wcvingtheflag‌.

Grant got to the location with plenty of time before the meeting to stake out the location and make sure that he would be safe, though he was pretty frivolous with his own life he did have his own interests at heart enough of the time. He was human after all, if he was in a situation he didn’t have any extra powers to help him get out of it. He spots Mateo as soon as he runs into view of the windows, his eyes glancing over at the clock on the wall with an amused smile. He was starting to believe that this guy wasn’t a threat to him, but he wasn’t rushing to let my guard down. Grant sits back and lets Mateo settle into his seat, smiling with amusement as he motions for the server to come over “I’ve got it covered don’t worry.” He orders his usual, which was technically just a refill since he’d been here a while, and motions for Mateo to order. Once that’s done and the server has gone he turns to Mateo, hands opens on the table “I’m all ears.”

with everything his father has left him, it feels wrong not to pay, and so mateo shakes his head and wordlessly puts his card on the table for the server to take. “dark coffee, no sugar,” he says, insisting that the server take his card before he realizes he’s slouching and fixes his posture again. “right, so,” he says, sliding the manila envelope over to show laboratory data and memos. “as you might be aware, my father wanted to spearhead mutant research before anyone else could mark their claim on this territory. and as you might know, a lot of this territory is illegal. still, he hoped to pioneer a future made possible by mutant research.” from his bag he procures a vial of turquoise liquid. “i believe that he was working on this. a serum that could give non-mutants powers. i found it in his office, stowed away in a locked secret compartment. seems like it was for his own personal use, if you ask me. but where i’m running into trouble is... maybe he did care about humanity? i don’t know. what’s your take on this?”

[thrcughlincs]

tcthepcinte‌.

“I think we’ll always be busy cleaning up after our parents” Ridley offers honestly, the prospect of her dancing going full circle right back to just being a tool for her parents, it began as a way to show off their daughter and now it was to keep them afloat financially. 

it’s a sad reality that ridley’s words have practically come to life. but perhaps they can be different from their parents. he laughs and shrugs. “well, guess i when all of this is cleaned up there won’t be another mess for me to do the same.” his use of morbid humor involving his dead father feels like the only way he can cope. “what if i recovered your family’s money but gave it all to you. would that be any better?”

[thrcughlincs]

3d3nsr0s3‌.

Caden had said this bastard wouldn’t be leaving by now, that it was safe to sneak into the apartment. Caden lied. Izaya was pissed, not at Caden though, at this ridiculous excuse for a human being who had the audacity to leave a little earlier than normal. If Izaya had physical skin it would be crawling at the sound of this man’s voice. God, it was horrific. His voice embodied the essence of cocky, so much so that it sounded like a roosters call. “Caden said you wouldn’t be out here.” His own voice was low, close to a growl.

it’s hard to form a reaction, much less react at all, but the stranger unsettles mateo in a way that he can’t describe. his hair prickles at the fact that his roommate knows someone he doesn’t, and that the stranger knows more than he shouldn’t. he almost answers i usually leave earlier, but perhaps it’s a trap. “how do you know him,” he asks before he follows up with. “are you stalking me?”

[thrcughlincs]

lilac-swarm‌.

Another slack morning at the Pantheon.

As Lilla takes her seat at the bar and gives her colleague a nod, she begins musing whether the lack of buzz is the result of the city’s recent scandal. In any case, a pack of detectives popping up at the restaurant certainly hasn’t aided them in escaping rumors. It’s almost as if those with money to spend on vintage wines and sous vide steaks prefer to dine without a police investigation foiling the experience.

The woman’s inner monologue is soon interrupted by the tentative wave she catches from the corner of her eye. She furrows her brows as she watches the familiar man walk towards her. Eventually she rises to her feet, meeting the approaching form of Mateo in an amicable handshake. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Suarez. I’m Lilla.“ If it wasn’t for the mellow jazz filling the space with stylish ambiance, surely he could hear her heart slamming against her rib cage.

A tangible cluster of anxious thoughts are working up a headache: has her dishonesty caught up to her? What if Mateo has heard about her false statements? She never meant to cause him any harm… She was foolish to bend the truth in her statement but in that moment, watching the detectives’ eyes light up with curiosity, their undivided attention was enough to fuel her fire.

Clearing her throat, Lilla withdraws from the greeting and paints on a faint smile. “I’d be glad to help, but, respectfully… Are you certain it’s me you’re looking for? I just serve the wine.” She shakes her head and flashes an apologetic look at the man, taking a pause before she adds: “I’m sure you’ve already heard this a hundred times and more, but please take my deepest condolences. It’s awful what’s happened to your father.”

That is, of course, assuming that one has a father to begin with. She can’t help wondering how would she feel in Mateo’s place - in many ways, she lost both her parents long, long years ago. “But I digress,” She speaks up hurriedly to prevent a potential case of the dreaded, uncomfortable silence. “I could take you to my manager, I believe she’s the best suited to answer questions about our clientele.” 

not a droplet of words have caused him to come here. in fact, if they ever got word mateo that he was doing his own investigating, he would surely end up in a lot of hot water for potentially obstructing the ongoing investigation. an investigation that is, in his honest opinion, completely inefficient.

he’s by no means a detective himself. far from it. but from one person the night of the gala to another, mateo has questions. he nods as solemnly as he can when lilla offers her condolences, because people enjoy performance, and inhales deeply. he’s certain he saw her the night of. positive. confrontation is and never was a skill of his, but given the magnitude of the case he’s left with no other choice but to ask questions. he glances around to make sure there are no lingering ears, no conversations that would simmer down just so people could listen in. “you were there... at the, errr, location of the murder? right?” it’s hard for him to produce the words, and so a long pause fills the void. at least the people in the restaurant are talking. “i suppose maybe i should back up a bit. i’m not affiliated with the police. or anyone, at the moment. i’m doing this for me. to see if i really believe my dad. and i was hoping to know about your relationship to him. if that’s alright with you.”

[thrcughlincs]

wcvingtheflag‌.

After years doing what he does Grant had become quick on picking up when something shifty was occurring, though his casual appearance would never alert to his newly heightened awareness. His eyes stay on Mateo as he pulls the book closer to him, glancing down to read the note with the ease and efficiency that years working as a journalist had taught him. “Thank for coming down” He now offers with a subtle nod, sliding the book back across to him with a carefully scribbled address and time. It was important that Grant did this on his territory, he would hear Surarez’s son out, but that didn’t mean he was going to trust blindly. At least working through to the end of the line would help think out some sort of escape plan should the ultimate meeting go awry.

it isn’t until the morning of, when his iPhone alerts him, that mateo remembers his meeting with grant. he arrives to the address late, all out of breath and forehead clammy with sweat, but the moment he sees grant from the window he runs his palm through his hair and fixes his posture, walking calmly to the author’s table. from his bag, he procures an envelope as he sits down. “thanks for your time. i promise it won’t go to waste,” he says, still recovering the last of his breath as he gets himself comfortable, putting his bag down onto the floor. “you, uh, good? or can i get you anything before we start? water, coffee? i guess i have a granola bar in my bag if you’d prefer that.”

[thrcughlincs]

isabellaheals‌.

“Well, Raúl was kinda a figure of hope for the city. And, I mean, If I was a bad guy and I wanted to cause problems in Diamond City, I’d take away that hope. Ruin his reputation when he’s not around to defend it. It’s the textbook evil thing to do.  She sighs and wraps her hand around around her mug, letting the warmth spread through her fingers. “And he was always nice to me and I don’t want to believe it.” 

she has a point. ugh. she has a point. of course isabelle does, and mateo... sees her point. still, there’s traces of doubt in his limbs, but it’s not like her theory can’t be invalid, either. whatever it takes to believe his father. “if anything, i think you might be more of the city’s hope. i mean, you’re the face of the heroes union, the one that represents all of it.” his doubts settle back in, but against a deep inhale he nods. “bad guys can do nice things though. but i think you’ve made me believe enough to hold out for at least one more day. i think the city might need your optimism. how about we start on a pr campaign, then?”

[thrcughlincs]

powcrup‌.

‘ black tea it is. ’ hugo gives mateo a half-smile, but it drops from his face as soon as he turns his back on him. once he’s in the kitchen, he rests his palms on the marble countertop, letting the coolness of the stone allow him to come back to his senses. to think that he was asleep in his bed only a few minutes ago was — mad. he gives himself only a few more seconds to collect his thoughts before, taking out his canister of loose leaf tea from the cabinet above him. he’s switching on the electric kettle when he hears light footsteps behind him. ‘ i don’t know, will you tell me what you were doing at the gala ? ’ and why you would lie to the police about it ? he doesn’t ask.

he expected to answer this question at some point. here it is, and mateo still blanks on his answer, no matter how many times he muttered it under his breath on the way to hugo’s. for a brief moment, he averts eye contact, sliding over the kitchen and all of its decor, between the tilings and through the wood. it all ends up back at hugo. “i was negotiating something with my father, to protect my mom. he hurt her once and i know he wouldn’t be above it to do it again. but it was only a coincidence that the day i went to drop off documents was the same day as the gala.” and yet, mateo knows that it’s no coincidence, what with how widely the gala was publicized to the entire city. still, mateo’s not above lying. not to hugo. he focuses on the kettle’s rattle, inhaling deeply. “does that answer your question?”

[thrcughlincs]

powcrup‌.

‘ okay, ’ remi says after a moment, unsure whether to be worried or relieved. it’s nice to have backup, but they’re not sure how mateo acts in a crisis. they open the door to the office. ‘ good luck, mateo. ’

mateo would have thought that something by now would have foiled this entire thing. but as time passes by, he’s more bored than he is anxious. that’s a good thing, he tells himself, as his jugular stops beating against his chest, leaving him to silently watch the time on his wrist. it’s been quite awhile, and he supposes a call doesn’t hurt. he’s antsy. “any luck so far?” he asks over the phone. “if not, that’s okay, just wanted to check in.”

[thrcughlincs]

tcthepcinte‌.

“Of course we’re still friends Mateo” Her mind thinks back to the interviews at the police station, being asked questions about her childhood friend and her own assurances that he shouldn’t be a suspect. But there definitely felt like there was more to his question than what it seemed. “You mean leaving the city again?” She runs a hand over her weary face, smiling somewhat bitterly “All the time, I do miss New York but I’m needed here so here I’ll stay.”

he’s thought way too often about quitting what his father has left him, in all of its jagged edges and stress, for the warm comfort of san diego. mateo doesn’t know if he’ll ever quit, with what stubbornness lay in his limbs, but it always seems like he’s on the precipice. still, ridley’s own answer causes him to think about how perhaps he’s needed here. “i suppose you have a point,” he whispers, inhaling deeply. “maybe one day we’ll escape,” he says, laughing.

[thrcughlincs]

the moment he steps out from his apartment complex at 7:12am to leave for work, mateo is met with... — he knows this face. on second thought, he doesn’t. he’s seen him around before, somewhere, perhaps on passing. a name, even by a passing gaze, escapes him. still, by the stranger’s very affect he can tell that it was good to wake up a little earlier than usual. “can i help you,” he asks. when it feels inadequate, he follows through with, “you look familiar. but i also can’t say i know you.” @3d3nsr0s3

[thrcughlincs]

the one with insect swarm and poison generation. clad in a suit, mateo feels entirely out of place with such formal attire as he scopes out... — lilla gilliam. the sommelier. in some sense, he’s not sure what to expect of this encounter, the questions he has in mind slipping from his brain. it’s all circular, he notes to himself, that just like his father he’s wound up back here. not like his father has ever taken him to a place like this. when he finally sees lilla mateo awkwardly raises a hand to grab her attention before he walks to her. “mateo suarez,” he introduces himself. “if i’m not mistaken, i believe my father frequented this place. if you don’t mind, i have a couple of questions to ask you...” @lilac-swarm

[thrcughlincs]

wcvingtheflag‌—

Recently doing events around his book made Grant anxious, and not much made the investigative reporter feel nervous. Yet in his pursuit for justice for his sister he would endlessly put himself into dangerous situations with little care for his own safety, including doing a book reading and signing while deep into investigations of the Underground. “Who should I make it out to?” He asks the next person in the queue, holding out his hand for whatever they wanted him to sign for them.

when it’s his turn, mateo puts his iphone buzzing with notifications away to hand grant his book. the flap is open, but inside is a note. we need to discuss matters at the heroes union re: the underground. it’s not something mateo feels comfortable saying aloud, but he knows grant’s reputation and has devoured his books. it’s what, after all, really got him thinking about his father. only now has he summed up the courage and the time to make it out. “big fan,” he says meekly.

[thrcughlincs]

cadxnsantos‌—

The answer did nothing to ease his worries, but asking more questions wasn’t going to help either. In fact, he was pretty sure it would make things worse. So Caden let out a small sigh of resignation before nodding and pushing himself off the couch towards the kitchen. “If you have everything under control, then I’m ordering takeout. What do you want?”

he pulls caden in closer and jostles his hair with his knuckles. it’s not something mateo would usually do, but he supposes this is the fallout of his father’s mess, and this is what has become. “orange chicken or barbecue chicken pizza, your choice,” he grins.

[thrcughlincs]

isabellaheals‌—

“Oh.” Her face drops. Bella doesn’t frown often, but hearing Mateo say that makes her deeply sad on his behalf. She didn’t know if he meant that he had to believe it just in case or if he really did believe it but either way he had to contend with marring the memory of his father. “I’m really okay with it. It doesn’t feel so risky and- well, people take much bigger risks every day.”

her will to believe his father is admirable. once again, a shot of jealousy pierces through him. why can’t he believe his own father. it’s something that haunts him, lingering in his limbs. bella’s frown absolutely hollows out mateo’s stomach, and he’s partially disappointed in himself for making such a genuinely nice person so... let down. “can i ask... why you believe him? i want to, i really do. and. i’m not gonna lie, i’m kind of jealous that you can believe he’s free of any charges.”

[thrcughlincs]

powcrup‌—

i shouldn’t have gone to the gala. hugo suddenly remembers how the police officer had asked him questions about if he had seen mateo there that night, and how he had resolutely stood by his ex. he lets mateo hug him tightly for a few moments before releasing himself from his embrace. he remembers only at that moment that he’s still in his pajamas ‘ take a seat. i’m going to make you some tea, and then we’re going to talk about why you’re here. now, do you have any preferences ? ’ 

why... why does he always come back to hugo. mateo’s face is lingering within the same breath, noses grazing. he thinks about it. but he swallows his temptations thickly, pulling back and letting hugo part ways so he can take a seat. it’s not what he wants to do, but following his words brings him comfort in a way that he can’t explain. “i’ll take a black coffee. or, erm, black tea.” he waits patiently and wordlessly for the longest second of his life before he decides to follow hugo to the kitchen, leaning against the countertop. “so you’re not going to go with me to the heroes union?”

[thrcughlincs]

powcrup‌—

thinking quickly, remi picked up a pen left on a chair nearby and pressed it into mateo’s hand. they held out their wrist, and put the ballpoint against their own skin. ‘ write your phone number here, and i’ll call you when i’m done or if i need anything. ’ they said. ‘ it depends on how good of an actor you think you are. if you don’t think you can bluff your way out if a police officer asks what you’re still doing at an active crime scene on your lunch break, i think it might be best if you hide in a restroom on this floor if there is one and you want to be nearby, otherwise, the café we met at will serve just as well. if you have a little more faith in your abilities than that, it’d be better to have someone guard the door so that i’m not accidentally disturbed. ’ they bit their lip. or caught. as a criminology consultant, remi can honestly get away with far more than police officers do — but being caught alone at the crime scene of one of the most high profile murders the day after it happens isn’t something that they want to test. ‘ so which will it be ? ’

mateo scribbles his number, his calligraphy hardly better than a doctor’s in any case. whether or not he can play the part, it’s far too late to go back. he’s gotta commit, and do that whistle thing police men who. or, wait, that would be more suspicious - whatever it is, he complies obediently with a nod. “i’ll guard the door,” he says, manifesting a clipboard before him, a mere illusion. “if anyone asks, i’ll be doing a memo, though i’m not sure what this fella does. just go, quickly.”

[thrcughlincs]

tcthepcinte‌—

“Would it help you feel less guilty if I say I don’t want you there?” Ridley asks half in jest, half in honesty. She hadn’t been fishing for him to come and watch the show, he had asked what she had been up to and in order to not talk about her father the only other thing she could bring up would be her life spent inside rehearsing. “Look Mateo, I know you support me as your friend in your own way. Just as I’ll support you in my own way with the Union, but I won’t be joining back up again.”

she won’t be joining again. for one reason or another, perhaps because the empire feels like it’s crumbling, it feels like crushing rejection. ridley wants no association, and he can’t particularly make out her role within the union anyways but it hits him nonetheless. mateo takes it professional, nodding as he clenches and grates his jaw quietly. a deep breath inhales his chest, and he licks his lips dryly. “no, yeah, that makes me feel less guilty,” he says. it’s sad how much validation he needs in times like these, but he puts his somber expression away. “but we’re still friends and all, yeah?” it’s a dumb thing to say, and so he pivots the conversation to a different subject. “you ever think about leaving this city?”