Shannon Vaughn [uɐɯɹǝʌlᴉS ǝʇɐN] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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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
"No keys of any sort," he confirmed. There was more to it than that—in situations such as these, more proactive victims sometimes tried using their keys as a counter-weapon, and there was a chance those might turn up in the alley. Another reason no one but cleared officials had been in the scene yet. Shannon knew better than to say so in front of an unscrupulous reporter; when Avery was gone, he planned to mention something to Delacroix instead. "Might have been taken by the mugger, which would have been the smart thing to do. No unfaithful husband would leave home without making sure he could get back on his own with no chance of having to rely on a mistress."
Avery looked between the two of them. His expression was clearly unimpressed by the two youngsters still with their ears trying to outsmart him. "No one said anything about this not being a mugging, just that there may be more to the story than the police are willing to consider!"
"Didn't I tell him to leave?" asked Shannon, pretending to ask the less-annoying reporter. He turned back to Avery with a much more serious expression. "No, wait. I did. Go away, Avery. Don't try messing with me, I'm not above calling one of my friends over to make you."
Avery stood up and puffed his chest out. He was about Shannon's height, although he lost out to the extra inches granted by the blind man's ears, and then let himself deflate. "I'll be talking to the chief about this, Vaughn," he warned.
As he heard the footsteps of the retreating reporter, Shannon merely grinned and said to Delacroix, "Chief's not going to do anything. That guy's an asshole and his paper is always two prints away from turning into a tabloid."