IN THE LAND OF GODS & MONSTERS, I WAS AN ANGEL. INTRODUCING WILL HEMINGWAY, THE GOLDEN BOY.
TWENTY-NINE
POLICE COMMANDER & SPECIAL AGENT
LAPD
THEO JAMES
❝ I see that there will be no end to imperfection, or to doing things the wrong way. Even if you grow up, no matter how hard you scrub, whatever you do, there will always be some other stain or spot or stupid act, somebody frowning. And there will always be those who exist in a place where they have enough grace to lend some to those poor deservers. ❞
It was more of a demand than a question, a statement filled with barely-suppressed rage, hissed between bared teeth. Will, uniform crisp and dark, a fitting match for his sharp, lean figure, stepped forward until he was inches away from the other officer’s face. The flashes of the sirens were pounding through his peripheral vision, the angry cries of the crowd rising up like smoke all around them.
“I - I was - “ The other man stammered like a child, the baton in his hands going limp before his superior. Will turned, looked at the damage done. There was a man on the ground, dazed and bleeding from where he had fallen after the blow. “I was subduing the crowd, sir.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Snatching the instrument from the man’s hand, Will coldly shoved him backwards with one hand. “Get back to headquarters. I’ll deal with you later.” With a sigh and an apology, he bent down to help the victim up, but not before the angry protesters surged forward, screaming for justice.
Some people are born with natural talent. Born to exist on a better, smoother stratosphere than all the poor fools below them - born to glide through life’s woes with smooth indifference, unaffected by all misfortunes and touched by all luck. They are the ones regarded with envy, loved with tinges of despise, thought to have unfair advantages. They are the golden girls. The golden b o y s .
From the very start, Will’s life was nothing but picturesque. A mother who actively partook in her children’s lives, a father who earnt a steady income as a respected real estate agent in a upper-middle class town. Their house was one that could be on brochures: a white picket fence, freshly mowed grass, an enormous backyard and handsome children to occupy it. As a middle child of five, he never stood out in particular, at least, not at first. Following the examples of Peter and David, setting the example for Johnny and Lottie, he was simply there, never piquing his parents’ interests the way that his older brothers and their school functions did. The Hemingways were the statistics that the country liked to see - prime lenders on the mortgage receipts, law-abiding citizens with well paying jobs, white and normal and fitting in among all the rest. Bland. His childhood was the usual medley of PB & J sandwiches, toy trucks and phases of dinosaur adoration, a solid base for any individual to grow out of — but it was his adolescence that gave him his extraordinaire.
There’s something to be said for effort, for hard work in spite of privilege. But that wasn’t the case with Will. No, the trophies he brought home with the youth soccer league, the stars pinned onto his t-shirt, the impeccable penmanship and detached air he already held by the age of twelve…it was all effortless. It wasn’t always evident, his lack of care about what he excelled at. From the outside looking in, he was like his brothers before him: bright, charming, confident and sometimes even eager. Teacher’s pet and coach’s star player, well-liked by his classmates and fawned over by girls, he seemed to be the perfect Renaissance man, master of many trades. What they didn’t know was how little it all meant to him. His parents, used to the success of his elder siblings, didn’t think much about the talents that their third son exhibited. If anything, they expected them…it was nothing special. If they had looked closer, they would have seen the projects laying untouched until 8 hours before they were due, the books they bought for him remaining unread - the handwriting that was nearly illegible in his personal journals, through which he documented much of his life. They didn’t care, so why should he? What was excellence, when the people closest to you had long considered it average?
Everything he did, every step he took, it was within the boundaries of expectation. Progressing into high school, he was the star pupil, the star athlete. Soccer, lacrosse, hockey, basketball - he was on the front lines of them all, a captain to soldiers. President of Debate, of Student Council, of everything imaginable, and it meant nearly nothing - a mere passing of a breeze, a slight lifting of his finger. Intelligent beyond all statistics of his age, there was a laziness to his brilliance, a facile apathy as he went through the motions. Perfection was what he had been for all his life, what he had come to know as normal…and thus, even the slightest of mistakes, the smallest of mishaps — it stood out blatant and ugly beneath his gaze.
Greatly, always critical of his classmates and peers, it was almost a compulsion of his. Nothing could be subpar, nothing could be out of place - he expected those less capable than him to match his standards, and when they failed to do so, he made up for it by his own ability. Months spent prepping for competitions - state, regional, national: and the night before the big day, he would wipe away all work that his teammates had done with a blank indifference - and re-do it all himself. Pristine, neat, never wrong — it soon became clear to him that the only person in the universe who he could truly trust, who he could truly depend on…was himself. There was no one else who could possibly capture his visions, his efficiency, his utter and complete need for everything to be exactly as he wanted it — no one else who could satisfy his need for flawless execution. It was what differed him from his brothers, what differed him from a hundred million others. His unyielding belief in his ingenuity, his genius, it was what ultimately propelled him past all others. His parents never truly understood him - they treated him as if he were only so ordinary…did they even consider the cosmos and stars that were sparking in the recesses of his mind?
Some took an eternity to master perfection - he had done it in seventeen years.
Graduating valedictorian, top of his class, the whole world was open to him. The letters poured in, begging him when it was meant to be vice versa - the Ivy Leagues, all clamoring for this picturesque statistic of pure American genius. Scholarships, promises, incentives and personal messages addressed to one ‘Mr. William Hemingway’…he could have chosen any one, and they would have kissed his feet for the chance to host a prodigy. That was what he was, after all - fantastically extraordinary in every field possible - a skilled orator, a (seemingly) hard worker, a leader, a attentive spirit, perpetually on his feet, never pausing, never resting. High-strung and never able to remain dormant, let alone spend his time on trivial pursuits, he was an individual who worked to entertain himself and accomplished to satisfy himself. And when he accepted the full-ride scholarship from Harvard, it was everything that they wanted to see.
It all blurred, those four years. Endless business, endless fixation upon being exceptional. His childhood habits became reality at the university, a strange paradox that none could truly understand. In the classroom or on the field, there were no hitches - everything was planned out to the minute detail, executed in fantastic formation, always superior to anything that his peers could have dreamt of…and he never broke a sweat. But in his personal life, it was the opposite. Erratic, unorganized, sheets of paper strewn across dark floors and unfolded laundry were just the beginning of it. It didn’t bother him, these infringements of his own code - he could deal with any of his own imperfections, reveled in them even (the knowledge that he could fix it all in a moment), but he couldn’t stand another’s. A strange balance. Sometimes, if he found himself bored, he would fix the mess in which he lived, only to muss it up again the next day - it was all part of the power over himself, the knowledge that there was nothing he could not solve or make right. It was a shocking contrast, really. He lived his days in some glorious sphere of flawlessness, slept his nights on a bed that had been unmade for months. No one saw this side of him until graduate school - law school.
Sharing an apartment with Francis was at first doubtful. Much as he was open to new ideals, his childhood had given Will a strong sentiment to build off of, and meeting an African American who as just as brilliant as he was - it was almost unthinkable. His concerns were quickly quelled, however, as the two began to build a powerful friendship. Competitors and friends all the same, they both hoped to graduate Harvard Law School at the top of their class (the same class, of 2009). Francis opened his eyes to many of the injustices that could not afford lawyers and were often overlooked by law enforcers. Racial profiling, gang violence, murders on the streets of Brooklyn where Francis had grown up - investigated because it was far more rewarding for the police to support the rich and ignore the poor and the minorities. An avid attender of social protests and an activist, Will regarded Francis’ passions with skepticism at first: weren’t they both on the same path? The path to serving those who could afford their services, getting criminals and rich delinquents out of the messes they had gotten themselves into. It was something that he excelled at, fixing mistakes. But Francis had different ideas. He hoped to go into politics - and even (Will laughed at this) perhaps one day become President. After all, what can one man do without the proper power to back him up?
It was nearing the end of their second year of law school when Francis attended his last protest. It was a response to racial injustice in an area which had recently come under fire (literally) for the police brutality, the disgusting abuse of position that law enforcers, sworn to protect civilians, indulged in. Francis had even boarded a train to be there to show his support alongside those who had been wronged - why was it then, that he was the one out of a thousand that was shot and k i l l e d ?
That was the moment that changed Will’s life. He dropped out of law school, decided on a new path. He didn’t want to be waiting for years, decades, until his time to shine had arrived - he didn’t want the opportunity to present itself, he was going to take it. Even politicians had no real power at the end of the day, what with the bickering and constant back and forth. To influence a sphere of business, you had to be at it’s apex. And so at age twenty-one, he decided to dive into the land of the enemy itself: law enforcement.
It was a breeze. When hadn’t it been? He was far more intelligent, capable, and prepared than anyone who had approached the position for years, and his name was already well-known. Harvard’s little prodigy, the boy who had finished undergrad in two years and was well on his way to becoming one of the nation’s most powerful lawyers when he unexpectedly dropped it all. He was fluent in four languages, had a black belt in martial arts and had studied criminal law in his free time. When the FBI approached him, offering him a position, Will declined. Not yet. He didn’t want to be too exclusive yet. He wanted to have a chance to destroy the corruption that had infected this field. To make a difference to those minorities, to make a stand for his friend who was so untimely ripped from life.
He went through the police program, moved to Detroit (the national crime capitol), and put on his badge for the first time a year later. And then it all progressed from there. He moved up through the ranks at an unprecedented speed, and within three years, was nearing the top. He had seen the crowds, the racism, the ignorance, and he had done his best to right it. As Police Captain of the Detroit Police Department, he vehemently attacked the problems that he had seen in the Academy where he was required to teach. They listened, wide-eyed, to the man who used such eloquent words, spoke with such incredible passion - when he could have been an Attorney General at this point in another life. As Police Commander, he cracked down on the recruitment process, using mind games that he had invented for the very task to weed out those who would act unfairly and rashly. There was no room for bad cops in a city that needed order.
Two years later, Will Hemingway is a substantial name throughout the network of law enforcement: a star rookie, a golden boy who has been the FBI’s watchlist for years - Harvard undergrad, well-versed and incredibly well-learnt. The stories of his successes have traveled nationwide: heists caught hours before execution, criminals who had been undercover for years, driven out of their hovels and justice served. In fact, there has been no operation, no assignment, that Will has failed — although the most recent has certainly posed a challenge.
After a resurgence of information regarding the criminal breakout at one of the highest surveillance prisons in the nation five years ago, Will has been tasked with finally finding those responsible for the breach. An Level A breakout - the security system hacked…dozens of the world’s most dangerous released and running free, it’s the greatest, and most impactful job that he has ever been assigned. And he is happy to expend every effort in cleaning up the aftereffects of the aperture — if not for the second call that came in, three months into the investigation, just as he was making leeway.
Valentine’s Day 2015, Los Angeles. An internationally respected businessman has been shot and murdered, and the authorities think that the killer was one of the escaped convicts from five years ago. After all, only an experienced murderer could get so close and get away unscathed and unknown, and the recently reopened investigation has called a lot of attention to that group of thirteen. Summoned on urgent lease to the City of Angels itself, Will has been ordered to join the special tasks team of five that will face this situation (and that of the increasingly powerful West Coast mob empire) head on. He regards it as a waste of time, really. Cynical, realistic, and never one to romanticize a dire circumstance when there is no optimistic outcome, he is impatient in his actions, wanting to return to something more substantial. But as it is, he is the newest addition to the Five Stars, LAPD’s most elite group, meant to face one of the world’s most elite crime operations. For a perfectionist and a prodigy - he’s already seen the unbalance.
This won’t be an easy fight.
NICHOLAS ⇢ “I work as hard as any of your agents, sir - but you have to understand that my lack of conviction is not in your ability, but in the possibility of staunching such a large operation.” He doesn’t approve of the LAPD’s Police Chief and the emotions that govern him. It’s no secret that the double murder hit the Grays hard - but if that’s all that driven Nicholas to expend so much effort in this pursuit, then it’s really just a fool’s pursuit, isn’t it? [Insight: Really, he and Nicholas aren’t so different, though Will denies it. They both have chosen the path of justice to avenge their loved ones…this just isn’t the type of justice that Will is particularly interested in.]
ASTRID ⇢ “Faith brings me nowhere, princess - maybe it’s sufficient for you to imagine success, but to believe something, I need to see it.” The Police Chief’s daughter has been a pain in the ass ever since he joined her father’s taskforce, perpetually going on about her emotions and her losses. He wants to tell her to get over it and focus on the present, yet he doesn’t have the heart to burst her optimism. Soon enough, even she’ll have to accept the facts, that they’re against a wickedly strong enemy.
GLORIA ⇢ “If you had wanted to keep your place in line, you should have moved your feet - like so - when there was a gap in front of you. Oh, god. I’m a police officer, miss, and I assure you that cutting in lines is not indeed illegal.” A woman who he’s encountered a few times since his arrival in LA, Will knows that she’s flirting - and has made some effort to keep her interested. But he knows that the reality is that he doesn’t have time for a dalliance, not with two crucial investigations going on.
LEONA ⇢ "We all have motives, don’t we? A death of a loved one, I presume yours was. People like us simply can’t relinquish the past, can’t bear the thought of crime without impunity, can we?”One of the two women who he is now working with, Leona’s down to earth persona and intelligence is something that Will appreciates. They work well together, an efficient team - and with her experience, there’s certainly something to be learnt. [Future: When one of them is injured, the other will risk their life to save them. ]
MARCUS ⇢ “I like to think of myself as someone who delivers. I hate being idle and performing insignifigant tasks. What about you? Are you willing to make a change?” The other man, despite his outward appearance, has a lot of fear in his heart, a lot of hesitation. Perhaps it’s his warmth towards all people of color, but Will has made it his mission to get Marcus to embrace his power to make a difference, and teach him to be assertive.
FEDERICO ⇢ “…” One of the thirteen who escaped prison five years ago, Will is unaware that part of his ongoing assignment presides in the same city as he is - is part of the second criminal group he is investigating. And not just any part. This is the man who started it all, the reason why twelve others run free.
THIS CHARACTER IS CLOSED, WITH A SLIGHTLY FLEXIBLE FACECLAIM.
↳ SUGGESTIONS: JACK FALAHEE, AARON TVEIT, ROBERT PATTINSON, SAM CLAFLIN
2087
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