Shannon Vaughn [uɐɯɹǝʌlᴉS ǝʇɐN] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
privatematter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
diversified2014-03-25 11:22 pm
privatematter) wrote in diversified2014-03-25 11:22 pm
Entry tags:
Souls abide to an Endless desire. [ psl ]
WHO Shannon Vaughn (privatematter), Eli Delacroix (aspectional).
WHAT Meet cute. This may or may not be a Loveless fusion.
WHEN 1984. Shannon is7 28, Eli is 19.
WHERE Chicago, [wherever their region is, I don't remember. We totally figured it out once, though].
The scene was not pretty. Shannon couldn't see it, strictly speaking, but he had been given the brief and knew what had happened. He could smell the copper on the air and it rested like lead on his tongue no matter what he did. That was always how it was when dealing with a murder; the taste lasted for days, sometimes even after the case was closed. It never let him forget what they were dealing with, and while Shannon Vaughn was not the most compassionate man on earth, he felt anger bubble up inside of him whenever he was confronted with one human killing another for some petty reason or another. It was always petty when measured up to the price of another human life.
Then again, it was part of the job. He enjoyed his work, enjoyed (most of) the people he worked with, and he did his part of the job well. Catching the sons of bitches who thought they could shatter peace with no consequence, that their wills were above those of everyone around them, that last moment at the end of the day where the war was not given up and evil had not won, was worth it. His parents didn't really understand why Shannon had wanted to work with the police when he had so many other options, things that weren't so limited by his abnormality. His blindness. That was exactly why he did it, though, the satisfaction of not letting anything get in the way of feeling right. When it came down to it, Shannon just wanted others to feel safe. His part of the work now entailed checking in with any witnesses who had heard the fight in the alley, the screams as the mugger brought out the knife. Thank God for tape recorders, or it may have taken even longer than his seven years tenure to be allowed to take witness statements without any way to officially keep it on record.
He was walking the perimeter now, ears at half-mast while he kept his head tilted and tried to make any heads or tails of the gossip around him, see if maybe anyone had been holding out or noticed something without realizing what they had seen. Lacey was waiting by the truck, drinking from her bowl after escorting Shannon all around the scene while the actual cops had set up. The body was still in the alley and the investigators were crowding around and making it near-impossible for onlookers to get a peek. With the POLICE jacket and his glasses on, Shannon knew he cut an official-looking figure, if incredibly young thanks to his ears, and not the blind police aide that had never attended any sort of law enforcement academy. Now it was up to Shannon to head off any questions or make any statements requested while the officers did their work.
privatematter), Eli Delacroix (aspectional).WHAT Meet cute. This may or may not be a Loveless fusion.
WHEN 1984. Shannon is
WHERE Chicago, [wherever their region is, I don't remember. We totally figured it out once, though].
The scene was not pretty. Shannon couldn't see it, strictly speaking, but he had been given the brief and knew what had happened. He could smell the copper on the air and it rested like lead on his tongue no matter what he did. That was always how it was when dealing with a murder; the taste lasted for days, sometimes even after the case was closed. It never let him forget what they were dealing with, and while Shannon Vaughn was not the most compassionate man on earth, he felt anger bubble up inside of him whenever he was confronted with one human killing another for some petty reason or another. It was always petty when measured up to the price of another human life.
Then again, it was part of the job. He enjoyed his work, enjoyed (most of) the people he worked with, and he did his part of the job well. Catching the sons of bitches who thought they could shatter peace with no consequence, that their wills were above those of everyone around them, that last moment at the end of the day where the war was not given up and evil had not won, was worth it. His parents didn't really understand why Shannon had wanted to work with the police when he had so many other options, things that weren't so limited by his abnormality. His blindness. That was exactly why he did it, though, the satisfaction of not letting anything get in the way of feeling right. When it came down to it, Shannon just wanted others to feel safe. His part of the work now entailed checking in with any witnesses who had heard the fight in the alley, the screams as the mugger brought out the knife. Thank God for tape recorders, or it may have taken even longer than his seven years tenure to be allowed to take witness statements without any way to officially keep it on record.
He was walking the perimeter now, ears at half-mast while he kept his head tilted and tried to make any heads or tails of the gossip around him, see if maybe anyone had been holding out or noticed something without realizing what they had seen. Lacey was waiting by the truck, drinking from her bowl after escorting Shannon all around the scene while the actual cops had set up. The body was still in the alley and the investigators were crowding around and making it near-impossible for onlookers to get a peek. With the POLICE jacket and his glasses on, Shannon knew he cut an official-looking figure, if incredibly young thanks to his ears, and not the blind police aide that had never attended any sort of law enforcement academy. Now it was up to Shannon to head off any questions or make any statements requested while the officers did their work.
no subject
"I prefer Mr. Delacroix over Mr. Tribune," he said as he was pulling out his notepad and started to write. "What exactly happened here? How many people were killed? And have the victim or victims been identified yet?"