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rainbowfic2013-08-29 09:50 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2013-08-29 09:50 pm
Bittersweet #8, Byzantium #9, Feldgrau #5
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Hypothetically
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Bittersweet #8. missed opportunities, Byzantium #9. The conquered moans, the conqueror is undone., Feldgrau #5. reserves
Supplies and Materials: bichromatic, eraser (Urban Fantasy AU), feathers, pastels (my current gen + romance card O3 "telling a story"), yarn, glitter (What’s holding you back?), glue ("Your changing needs add complexity to a current emotional situation, especially if recent experiences get jumbled up with what's happening now. You may be so entangled in your own thoughts that it's challenging to be receptive to someone else's feelings.")
Word Count: 906
Rating: R
Characters: Mel, Riluke
Warnings: References to murder with mutilation, oblique references to past abuse, misplaced guilt for someone else's crimes. If I missed any, please let me know, I'm never sure when discussing The Murderer.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. This takes place in an alternate 990 FY.
“Hey, Ri?”
“Mm?” Riluke looked up from the report she was analyzing. Mel sounded—and looked—unusually agitated, especially since last night had been the new moon. “What happened?” she asked, setting the report aside.
“Nothing, exactly, just…” He bit his lip. “Can we have a completely hypothetical ethical discussion?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Okay.” So, whatever was going on was seriously bothering him, but not something he trusted even her with. Maybe it had something to do with his previous caretaker. Mel never talked about him directly, but… “What’s on your mind?”
“It’s…” He hesitated a moment, then took a deep breath and went on. “Suppose…someone did something. Something terrible. Hurt a lot of people.”
“All right.”
“And…suppose I found evidence—not absolute concrete good evidence, but…really strong circumstantial evidence.”
“You know something about a crime?” Riluke asked. “Did something happen in the store, or…?”
He shook his head. “No, I…just…let me finish?”
“Okay,” she said, and settled back, doing her best to keep her mouth shut.
“This evidence—like I said, it’s not concrete. And it was a long time ago, so it might not…well, it might not be findable anymore.” He stopped there.
“Why didn’t you come forward when you found the evidence?” she finally asked, after a full minute of waiting.
“Hypothetical evidence,” he reminded her.
“Yes, hypothetical evidence,” she assured him—though he couldn’t more obviously be un-hypothetical if he tried. “Hypothetically, why didn’t you come forward when you found the hypothetical evidence?”
He looked away. “A lot of reasons. The…the someone who was implicated, was…was someone important to me. And obviously someone dangerous, since…well, the evidence. And…” He took a deep breath. “And it was sort of my fault. Hypothetically.”
Well, that was unexpected. Not the first two parts—she’d been half-right, guessing his concern had to do with his caretaker. Probably. But that last…
“How, in this hypothetical situation, was it your fault?”
“I’m the reason the victims got hurt,” he said.
“You didn’t hurt them yourself?” she asked, for clarification. Not that she thought he would have, not in a million years, but.
He shook his head rapidly. “No. No, of course not, but…he did it because of me. Hypothetically, I mean. This…person with the hands, he did it for me.”
That stopped her cold. The Huntsman, who’d killed upwards of several dozen werewolves all over the country in the past ten-twelve years…
Mel knew him. He was Mel’s caretaker.
Years of practice kept her voice fairly steady—she’d never been more glad of her aunt’s subtle lessons or her position in the family business. “How could you be sure? Hypothetically. I mean, you found this…evidence, it’s damning, but how can it tell you the guy’s motives?”
“Because…because the crime it ties to…it’s specific,” Mel said, after a panicked scramble for words. “And because the timing fits. And because he…because this person is…” He stopped there, and looked down at his hands. “There’s a point where…it was obsessive, possessive, I can…from here, I can see it, but…I mean, hypothetically, this person was…”
Riluke let him trail off. “Mel?”
“Yeah?” he whispered.
“I’m not going to make you do anything,” she said quietly. “You know I never would. But…”
“But?”
“In this hypothetical situation…even if it’s been ten years since you found the evidence…I think you should come forward. If you’re scared, I’ll protect you. And…” She sighed. “Look, being the motivation for someone’s crime doesn’t make you guilty. It’ll be hard, because…hypothetically…you’d be asked all kinds of questions why you didn’t come forward when you first found out. But in the end…you were scared, you were running, and if anyone tries to hold you responsible, I’ll put the whole of Heidari Consulting behind you. I promise.”
“…thank you,” he said.
“Mel?”
“Yeah?”
“If you didn’t come forward,” she said, pulling him to meet her eyes, “it wouldn’t change things with us. I promise. And if you did…” She smiled slightly. “I know exactly who you would need to talk to. Hypothetically, of course.”
He was heartbreakingly relieved—whether just at the first part or at both, she couldn’t say. But he smiled, at least a little. “I’ll think about it,” he promised.
“Okay,” she said. “Let me know, either way.”
“I will,” he agreed, and left her to her report.
Riluke turned back to it, but her mind was elsewhere. He’ll do it, I think. Even if it took him ten years to get past the fear and the guilt, he’ll do it. She marked her place and dug through her contacts list. The detective who had investigated the three murders in this city was the same one who’d investigated her uncle’s murder almost fifteen years ago. He’d been good with Isshiri and Nolani then. Hopefully he’d be just as good with a skittish witness now.
She found Detective Miller’s number after a long search and saved it somewhere easily accessible. It was on hand, just waiting for her to dial.
As soon as Mel was ready.
Story: Hypothetically
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Bittersweet #8. missed opportunities, Byzantium #9. The conquered moans, the conqueror is undone., Feldgrau #5. reserves
Supplies and Materials: bichromatic, eraser (Urban Fantasy AU), feathers, pastels (my current gen + romance card O3 "telling a story"), yarn, glitter (What’s holding you back?), glue ("Your changing needs add complexity to a current emotional situation, especially if recent experiences get jumbled up with what's happening now. You may be so entangled in your own thoughts that it's challenging to be receptive to someone else's feelings.")
Word Count: 906
Rating: R
Characters: Mel, Riluke
Warnings: References to murder with mutilation, oblique references to past abuse, misplaced guilt for someone else's crimes. If I missed any, please let me know, I'm never sure when discussing The Murderer.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. This takes place in an alternate 990 FY.
“Hey, Ri?”
“Mm?” Riluke looked up from the report she was analyzing. Mel sounded—and looked—unusually agitated, especially since last night had been the new moon. “What happened?” she asked, setting the report aside.
“Nothing, exactly, just…” He bit his lip. “Can we have a completely hypothetical ethical discussion?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Okay.” So, whatever was going on was seriously bothering him, but not something he trusted even her with. Maybe it had something to do with his previous caretaker. Mel never talked about him directly, but… “What’s on your mind?”
“It’s…” He hesitated a moment, then took a deep breath and went on. “Suppose…someone did something. Something terrible. Hurt a lot of people.”
“All right.”
“And…suppose I found evidence—not absolute concrete good evidence, but…really strong circumstantial evidence.”
“You know something about a crime?” Riluke asked. “Did something happen in the store, or…?”
He shook his head. “No, I…just…let me finish?”
“Okay,” she said, and settled back, doing her best to keep her mouth shut.
“This evidence—like I said, it’s not concrete. And it was a long time ago, so it might not…well, it might not be findable anymore.” He stopped there.
“Why didn’t you come forward when you found the evidence?” she finally asked, after a full minute of waiting.
“Hypothetical evidence,” he reminded her.
“Yes, hypothetical evidence,” she assured him—though he couldn’t more obviously be un-hypothetical if he tried. “Hypothetically, why didn’t you come forward when you found the hypothetical evidence?”
He looked away. “A lot of reasons. The…the someone who was implicated, was…was someone important to me. And obviously someone dangerous, since…well, the evidence. And…” He took a deep breath. “And it was sort of my fault. Hypothetically.”
Well, that was unexpected. Not the first two parts—she’d been half-right, guessing his concern had to do with his caretaker. Probably. But that last…
“How, in this hypothetical situation, was it your fault?”
“I’m the reason the victims got hurt,” he said.
“You didn’t hurt them yourself?” she asked, for clarification. Not that she thought he would have, not in a million years, but.
He shook his head rapidly. “No. No, of course not, but…he did it because of me. Hypothetically, I mean. This…person with the hands, he did it for me.”
That stopped her cold. The Huntsman, who’d killed upwards of several dozen werewolves all over the country in the past ten-twelve years…
Mel knew him. He was Mel’s caretaker.
Years of practice kept her voice fairly steady—she’d never been more glad of her aunt’s subtle lessons or her position in the family business. “How could you be sure? Hypothetically. I mean, you found this…evidence, it’s damning, but how can it tell you the guy’s motives?”
“Because…because the crime it ties to…it’s specific,” Mel said, after a panicked scramble for words. “And because the timing fits. And because he…because this person is…” He stopped there, and looked down at his hands. “There’s a point where…it was obsessive, possessive, I can…from here, I can see it, but…I mean, hypothetically, this person was…”
Riluke let him trail off. “Mel?”
“Yeah?” he whispered.
“I’m not going to make you do anything,” she said quietly. “You know I never would. But…”
“But?”
“In this hypothetical situation…even if it’s been ten years since you found the evidence…I think you should come forward. If you’re scared, I’ll protect you. And…” She sighed. “Look, being the motivation for someone’s crime doesn’t make you guilty. It’ll be hard, because…hypothetically…you’d be asked all kinds of questions why you didn’t come forward when you first found out. But in the end…you were scared, you were running, and if anyone tries to hold you responsible, I’ll put the whole of Heidari Consulting behind you. I promise.”
“…thank you,” he said.
“Mel?”
“Yeah?”
“If you didn’t come forward,” she said, pulling him to meet her eyes, “it wouldn’t change things with us. I promise. And if you did…” She smiled slightly. “I know exactly who you would need to talk to. Hypothetically, of course.”
He was heartbreakingly relieved—whether just at the first part or at both, she couldn’t say. But he smiled, at least a little. “I’ll think about it,” he promised.
“Okay,” she said. “Let me know, either way.”
“I will,” he agreed, and left her to her report.
Riluke turned back to it, but her mind was elsewhere. He’ll do it, I think. Even if it took him ten years to get past the fear and the guilt, he’ll do it. She marked her place and dug through her contacts list. The detective who had investigated the three murders in this city was the same one who’d investigated her uncle’s murder almost fifteen years ago. He’d been good with Isshiri and Nolani then. Hopefully he’d be just as good with a skittish witness now.
She found Detective Miller’s number after a long search and saved it somewhere easily accessible. It was on hand, just waiting for her to dial.
As soon as Mel was ready.