[in progress/closed]
Who: Sam Vimes stony_faced and Ulquiorra Schiffer sfigato_quarto AND LATER Motoko Kusanagi deuxesmachina
What: Ulquiorra goes to get groceries for himself and Kairi, only to run into the AMC sergeant who's been after him.
When: Monday, December 8th, afternoon.
Where: Some market in Monacello territory by Ulquiorra's apartment.
( this is a cut. :D )
What: Ulquiorra goes to get groceries for himself and Kairi, only to run into the AMC sergeant who's been after him.
When: Monday, December 8th, afternoon.
Where: Some market in Monacello territory by Ulquiorra's apartment.
( this is a cut. :D )
His mother, all right. That was a good enough confession to satiate a jury hungry for a culprit. Besides, the AMC already had sufficient evidence that pointed towards his affiliation. "And you have nothing else to say regarding the explosions?"
Schiffer wasn't going to give, it seemed. He glanced over at Motoko, to see if she had any ideas at all. Really, the school Vimes went to had nothing to do with officials (in fact, if one looked far enough, it would demonstrate that he had not graduated high school) but with the art of dunking the bugger's head in the lake repeatedly until he decided to talk. Vimes knew full well what he was capable of, wasn't proud of it, but he was capable of it, if he didn't keep the Beast reigned in. His men were afraid of Sam Vimes going spare, and with all this death surrounding him, Sam Vimes was very close to going spare.
Reply
"No, I do not," Ulquiorra said. Motoko figured that it would be so. She met Vimes' gaze as he looked over at her. She gave him a little nod, giving him a small smirk of her own. She looked back at Ulquiorra.
"Are you sure you want to do that, Schiffer? We can do this the hard way, if you prefer."
Reply
He picked up the tape recorder. "Police brutality, check rulebook 13-2, is allowed when a potential suspect who has important information is not talking and so on and so forth, you can check it yourself. Now. The tape recorder will be turned off momentarily for my fellow Sergeant and I to discuss our next course of action."
One click, and the tape recorder stopped. "If we wanna do this the hard way, Sergeant, there's a few things we can use. There's plenty of different things that our peers've used. There's shocking, and tying you up and not letting you go to the washroom so you piddle all over the floor."
He got up and stared down at him. "Or, as you suggested so nicely to me earlier, I could simply bash--" this word was accompanied by a loud, surprising smack against the table, "--your head against the wall, and all of it would be perfectly legal."
His voice was loud, his expression one that made his boys all but piss in terror. People tended to be scared of Vimes, but this lad wasn't. But that's not what made Vimes angry. It made him angry that the little bastard blew up a building and showed absolutely no sign of remorse.
Bastard mobs. The lot of them!
Reply
Motoko finally let the smirk come to her face, and crossed her arms and legs, her eyes shut in a thinking pose. She nodded along with Vimes. "Yes, I will have to go with the easiest way." Her red eyes opened, and for the first time they met head on with the equally malicious green ones. She knew that Schiffer was itching for a reason to tear Vimes apart, or so it seemed, so she would have to do this to keep it from going down that road. She wasn't sure how dangerous the boy was with cuffs on his hands and feet, and a rather serious leg wound, but she wasn't going to really put it passed him, given his record. He must have been bred by the mafia to be a perfect weapon. She wanted that weapon now.
Motoko stood. "Sergeant Vimes is right," she said, putting one hand on the back of Schiffer's chair and leaning down to look at him. He was looking away now. "We're going to have to do this the hard way." Motoko was really no pansy when it came to going to any lengths to get what she wanted. With that, she kicked the chair out from under Ulquiorra, and he hit the floor with a grimace. One of his cuffed hands shot over his leg, either out of pain or out of fear that that was where she would hit next. He was still silent. She brought the back of her hand across the man's already bruised features. He did have a handsome face.
"People died. Do you understand that, Schiffer? People want answers." She frowned, he still wasn't saying a word, his gaze steady on the floor.
Reply
The thought crossed Vimes' mind before he could stop it, his inner sense of justice fighting the Beast, wanting to smash the kid's head into the table until his brains spilled out. This was wrong. The AMC wasn't supposed to be like this. Ideally, they were protectors, not necessarily solving crimes, because they couldn't seem to manage to do that, but keeping the peace.
They couldn't do that either.
It was in the rules, he assured himself. You could use violence--not a lot of it, but you could. To get information. Did the end justify the means?
No, he thought grimly, they didn't. But he'd do it anyways. He walked over to Ulquiorra, and picked him up by his arm, seating him back into his chair.
"All right, lad, up you get," he barked, voice gruffer than Motoko's, but his touch gentler. "We've got information, and we've got people harsher than us, and you don't want to meet them. Will you talk? No? Fine." He took Schiffer roughly by his hair and effectively slammed his face into the table.
"Want to talk now?" He snarled, face twisted in aggression and feral rage.
Vimes stared down at the boy - only a kid - and felt something far more painful than a knife twist in his stomach. That was his conscience, he thought grimly, that was his sense of justice, that was what little faith he had in the justice system.
The city was going to kill him one day. He knew it would, but he'd love it till he died.
Reply
"I would hate to meet them," Ulquiorra muttered to Vimes, the flash of his smirk coming across his facec again. He didn't quite know what happened right away. He had been caught off guard, as much as he hated to admit it. But suddenly his heale d was aching, and his cheek was burning. The sound of his face hitting the table made a strange metal-on-metal sound.
That was it. Vimes had marred his face for the last time. Blind rage surged in Ulquiorra's eyes as he looked up at Vimes. It was a fast moment, Ulquiorra could not afford anything else. He sat up, and from there jumped, bringing his knees to his chest, his feet barely making it to the surface of the table. Even though both his hands and feet were bound, Ulquiorra managed to get onto the table and take a double-handed swing at Vimes, leading through with his elbow, and pushing most of his weight at the officer.
He was following the move downward with Vimes, hoping to get in another crushing blow, perhaps hit that damaged shoulder, but he felt himself being taken down by the other officer. She had pushed his face into the floor against the wall, and had her hands holding him against the ground, his arms trapped beneath him. He thrashed, but she was heavier than she looked.
"I guess you really just want to be sedated and put in lockdown again, don't you, Schiffer?" Motoko commented, her voice now as flat and cold as his.
Reply
Don't let him see you fall, he reminded himself. Don't let him see you weak. It hurts like hell, but you never let a man see you down--the power is in the image, not in his fists.
Then, just looking at Ulquiorra's face, a new wave of rage swept through his body. It would be so easy, so goddamn easy to kill him. Just a pop in the forehead, and say that it was done in defense. Vimes had seen it done before, and juries always sided with injured police officers, going against the blank faced men of the mob.
Just one bullet. But that was the Beast talking, so he restrained it, even if he wanted nothing more than to go spare, then and there. Instead, carefully, always carefully, every action deliberate, he got to his feet and stood above Schiffer.
"Where the hell do you think you get off, you little bastard?" He asked him, voice starting off slow. "This doesn't help your case one bit, and we've already got enough evidence against you. You do not attack an officer." His voice subtly rose with every word, escalating into the dominant roar he was so well known for. "And I hope you've got some damn good lawyers, Schiffer, because at this point, you sure as hell won't be given any second chances! You will not harm any more of our men, you got that?"
Then, he seemed to calm a bit, raising a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. "Sergeant," he said to Motoko, "we're not getting anything more here. Why don't we just toss the bugger in solitary and call it a night?"
In truth, Vimes' entire body was aching, begging him to find a place to sit and calm his beating heart, or, God forbid, to sleep. But he couldn't, not yet--he wouldn't be able to rest until he knew his men were safe. Well, comparatively safe. This thought was met with some sort of grim amusement; at this rate, he wouldn't be able to rest until he was dead.
Reply
"Do you get off smashing heads into tables, Officer?" Came Ulquiorra's blank reply from the floor. He smirked a little, just for an instant as usual. "And think about who made the first move. You came at me. I was simply defending myself." All of it was toneless, except for a condescending air. Yes. Very interesting. He was still not knocked off his high horse. Why the hell not? Could nothing shake this kid? They had to give up for now.
Motoko looked down at him. "Not the solitary cells, Vimes, he's going to be sedated in the hospital wing again..." His leg was bleeding and pooling on the floor. Some of his blood was on her now. He was right, this didn't look that good, in all honesty. She got off of him and pulled him to his feet by his arm. Yeah, he was bleeding all over.
"Come on, Schiffer, time to sedate you again."
He just had a subtle smirk in his large green eyes.
Reply
When you started beating men in small rooms, he knew, it was time to worry. But what else could they do? The kid was so infuriatingly passive that they couldn't get a rise out of him, and--
Excuses, he thought. You didn't beat bound people in small rooms. Period. If you did it for a good reason, you'd do it for a bad one.
"Another day, then," he said, his voice coming out stronger than he felt as he strode over to the door and held it open so that Motoko could drag the bugger out. Vimes stared at the trail of blood and inwardly cringed.
This was what the AMC had been reduced to.
Reply
"Yeah, we'll try again in a day or two."
Right now she just had to see to his leg. He was leaving a trail of blood, but he did not even look like he was in pain. The kid's mask was hard to break. Even with this kind of pain.
This was a lot of things, but easy was not one of them. Motoko frowned, leading him down the hallway and back to the lock down ward of the hospital. There had to be something that could leverage the kid.
Yes. She had never been the kind of idealist that had thought that the AMC was carrying out some pure form of justice. But when nothing went right for the law, then she had to wonder.
Just how much further could they fall?
Reply
Leave a comment