Diversified : DJ's Musebox

WHO Shannon Vaughn (privatematter), Eli Delacroix (aspectional), and other Aspects.
WHAT Life takes a small turn for the exciting when the rest of the Aspects find out about the weird, three-way relationship that has evolved between Eli, Shannon and Michelle. It actually gets interesting when said relationship ends up getting involved in a sting on a large, black market smuggling ring.
WHEN idk, mid-1991-ish.
WHERE Chicago, IL, USA.

It was a beautiful summer day. Warm sun, pleasant breeze, excellent weather and plenty of friends. After a week of various he-said, she-saids among all of the Aspects hoping to do something with the optimistic forecast, it was decided to host a barbeque at Shannon's place (for Shannon's place was the only one with an appropriately-sized yard especially picked out for Lacey) where everyone could hang out and reconnect no matter what else was busying up their lives.

Although Shannon was hosting, he was hardly doing any of the cooking and found himself lingering by the screen door nursing a beer while he chatted around and listened for any of the straggling guests at the front. Only one or two people were actually hanging around inside to use the kitchen where there wasn't space out on the porch, so he kept an ear to that conversation, as well.

There was a rat-a-tat on the door. "I'll get it," he called inside the house, before Matheus could take it upon himself to answer. Shannon needed something to do for himself, and Matheus seemed to not be too keen on letting people (or himself) into Shannon's house without permission lately. Setting the beer aside, he made for the door and opened, brows raised expectantly; anyone who was coming would know to announce themselves.

WHO Shannon Vaughn (privatematter), Eli Delacroix (aspectional).
WHAT Meet cute. This may or may not be a Loveless fusion.
WHEN 1984. Shannon is 7 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.

WHO Shannon Vaughn (privatematter), Eli Delacroix (aspectional), Alyssa Vaughn.
WHAT surprise water powers!
WHERE Delacroix-Vaughn abode.
WHEN Summer of '93.

It had started with the Americans With Disabilities Act in '91. Someone had clapped Shannon on the shoulder and jokingly asserted that he could go and adopt some little Vaughnlets without worry. Shannon had, of course, related it to Eli with amusement but not much thought, and that had somehow led into more serious discussion about whether they would actually ever want children someday. The idea had simply sat there in the corner of their minds, waiting and growing while they went about their lives, moving in and coming together in all senses except legal.

Then they remembered that someone in their little group of reincarnated weirdos was actually a high-profile lawyer. Things had snowballed from there and by the very end of '92, the cogs turned in a miraculous way, and Shannon and Eli found themselves the fathers of a very precocious and amazing little girl named Alyssa.

Currently, it was a weekend which meant Shannon had the day off with his family. Because he wasn't officially a cop, he actually managed to have a normal schedule despite working for the Chicago PD. Sometimes he went in anyway, but nowadays he tended to lounge around at home and try his best to keep up with a three year old. That in itself was pretty challenging, especially when she forgot to put her toys away and Shannon ended up stepping on all the sharp, hard corners of her dolls or cars. Those cars were going to be the death of him, he just knew it.

"C'mon, Lyssa," he said, shaking his foot free and trying not to let the pain poke holes in his tone. "It's time for lunch. You wanna get cleaned up for lunch?"

ᴡʜᴏ Shannon Vaughn (privatematter), Eli Delacroix (aspectional), Javier Vasquez and Matheus Rocha.
ᴡʜᴀᴛ Pictured: Shannon Vaughn. Seriously.
ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ Chicago PD.
ᴡʜᴇɴ 1990, about five months after Eli returned from his Jumpscapades.

It was an average day at work. Busy enough with paperwork piling up after the department's big case getting cracked open a few days prior, but nothing especially noteworthy now that all the ne'er do wells and their accomplices had been rounded up. Perhaps the most miraculous thing was that only one officer had ended up in the hospital with injuries. Everyone was abuzz with it, but life went on regardless of what they had all accomplished.

Mostly, it meant Shannon didn't have time to go meet with Eli for lunch as had become the norm over the last few weeks. Ever since they had gotten through the barrier of Eli's social ineptitude and admitted, yes, they were dating and, yes, it was okay to see each other every day or however often they liked, they had met up for one reason or another away from the rest of their friends and family. Just them. But, no, Shannon was stuck in the hum drum of paperwork and was quite focused on his task enough that calling hadn't even jumped to mind; he was sliding along the slipstream of thoughts to keep him on his toes, anything to not get locked up on some tiny detail no one else cared about.

Either Eli would get mad and eventually forgive him, or initiate the call to ask what had happened. Shannon wasn't too terribly worried, considering that Eli actually trusted him after all the shit the alternate versions of himself had put the poor guy through. Shannon was easy to sidetrack, but his loyalty and attention were second to none.