And, with what could have been just a whisper of the wind, Sebastian was beside him. The butler stood tall and straight as ever, in the black suit befitting a 19th century servant. The breeze sifted through the dark hair framing his face. He remained expressionless while straightening his white gloves. His interest in the blond man seemed pleasant and professional, nothing more.
"Just Jane," Sebastian repeated. They'd had that exchange once before, but Sebastian had disregarded it. Now he would do as Jane wished.
He had also been avoiding the sleek metal contraptions that operated as cars these days. He'd never been in one himself; although he'd had to track one down once. The Italian gangsters had enjoyed their decadence while the rest of the world clung to horse and carriage. Sebastian sat in the passenger seat, shoulders impossibly straight, and glanced around as Jane spoke. Technology, as Sebastian noticed time and again, did advance rather quickly. Humans were always inventing new and improved methods to kill themselves, and he suspected this was no different. He made no move to fasten a seat belt.
He turned to Jane then, and raised one thin eyebrow. "'My thing?'" Being vague would earn Jane no favours, not in this game.
Jane hesitated before turning on the ignition. Okay, okay, fight the control freak thing, he told himself.
He turned to Sebastian. "Tell me what you need to find him. Unless you don't need me at all, in which case I'll stand back and let you work. My only stipulation in this is that when you find him, I want him alive. Red John is mine." Jane figured it went without saying--to Sebastian of all people--that a heinous, brutal death was in store for Red John.
If Jane told Sebastian to buckle up, he would. As it stood he didn't understood a seat belt's purpose.
"I thought I made this perfectly clear, Jane. You are in control. I am no more than a piece upon your board. You are more than needed; you will be the one making the moves. And the one to claim your checkmate." He smirked knowingly at Jane. He would make no move to stop Jane from killing Red John in the most painful way possible. If ordered, he would help. If not, he would simply stick to the shadows and watch, vastly amused.
what should we do about the passage of time?clearlythatsmeJuly 16 2010, 02:48:15 UTC
That seemed to satisfy him for the time being. Jane buckled up (monkey see, monkey do?) and turned on the car, pulling onto the main highway.
"Red John left me something at the last murder. I have the privilege of going in first, and pocketed it before anyone else saw it. You said you can track people, and I can too. But I can't do it while CBI is breathing down my neck right now. Lisbon suspects I'm keeping something from her."
He stared straight ahead as he spoke, hands gripping the wheel in frustration. Jane wanted to run off on this lead himself, right now, but knew that if he took off and didn't come into work, CBI would follow him and ruin his plans. They'd want to arrest Red John, not butcher him like he deserved.
"I'll tell you where to start looking; it'll be like being in two places at once."
New log? Or just say time has passed in the subject line?demon_andbutlerJuly 16 2010, 04:07:34 UTC
Sebastian watched curiously as Jane buckled up, but made no move to copy the movement. Even a serious accident in this horseless carriage would do nothing to harm him.
He nodded at Jane's instructions to show he understood. "Yes, sir." That was much more direct and to the point. Jane was a fast learner. Sebastian discreetly scanned the landscape as it flew by, just a blur of shapes and colours. This was much closer to the speed he could achieve by running. Humans certainly had come a long way since inventing the wheel.
we can also create a pocket-verse for random tro--tagging on sws >DclearlythatsmeJuly 16 2010, 05:30:31 UTC
It took them close to half an hour, but he finally guided them to a taped-off house in a middle-class neighborhood. The details of the family were unimportant compared to the clue Jane had picked up in the bedroom.
He parked the car and got out, totally disregarding the DO NOT CROSS police tape blocking off the front yard and doorways. "Forensics has already done their thing, so you can touch whatever you like." Jane led the way into the house, which looked perfectly normal until they got to the bedroom, which was a gruesome scene; the mattress was still soaked with blood, there were spatters on the carpet and of course the hallmark smiley face on the far wall.
Murders probably never changed, no matter what era it was.
Sebastian trailed Jane through the crime scene, all the way up to the bedroom without saying a word. Yes, this was a house of death. A reaper had been here not long ago, to review the cinematic record and fill out the paperwork. Luckily whoever it was hadn't lingered. Sebastian did not care to run into a shinigami now, or ever, for that matter.
He showed no outward reaction when stepping into the blood-soaked bedroom, and gave only the briefest sweeping of the room with his eyes. He already had a good idea of how it had been committed just by the splash patterns of crimson; he had spilled enough blood to know. And of course the smiley face. Sebastian tilted his head at it slightly.
An overly sentimental touch. Betraying the murderer as human. No supernatural being would have bothered with such a signature, even as a simple mockery.
I APPROVE THIS MESSAGEclearlythatsmeJuly 19 2010, 04:08:16 UTC
Jane had explained Red John's showmanship and sense of theater so many times he could do it in his sleep. Not like it was hard to figure out, anyway. So he skipped over all that and drew something out of his pocket, handing it to Sebastian.
"This was laying on her chest when I walked in." In his hand was a small gold compass, cleaned of blood (there would be no fingerprints on it, Red John wore gloves). It was unremarkable save for the fact that the four cardinal directions had been replaced with initials: L, V, C, R. Obviously it referred to the CBI team. "It's hand made, not something he modified from a shop."
I AM TOTALLY ADDING THIS TO MY VERSES. OR CREATING A POST FOR VERSES, SINCE I DIDN'T REALLY HAVE ANYdemon_andbutlerJuly 19 2010, 23:47:44 UTC
In a flutter of dark lashes, Sebastian dropped his gaze to the compass. Fingerprinting as part of a police investigation came from an era later than his, which saved him from wasting a question on it. He accepted it in one gloved hand, bowed his head and took a closer look. He nodded toward the letters on the compass rose. "Your partners."
He swiveled. His black bangs swished with the movement and nearly brushed his shoulders. He held the compass lightly in his fingers and studied the behavior of the needle, checking if it remained faithful to North.
He raised his chin and looked to Jane. "Who is the victim with whom this was found?"
Jane looked right at Sebastian, his face blank but his eyes hard. "Yes." The first thing Jane had noticed was that the compass didn't spin to true North, instead orienting itself to the letter 'V'. Not the most subtle clue that Grace Van Pelt was supposed to be some sort of compass for Jane. He rolled his eyes at the notion, of course, but perception is reality, and Grace is no secret fan of religion, morals, and even the supernatural.
He shook these thoughts off quickly, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. "She was no one significant; just a mother, middle-class." He regretted saying it that way as soon as it came out of his mouth; no mother was just a mother.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow at the needle pointing to V. "Miss Van Pelt seems to be your true North, sir. According to Red John." Sebastian knew little about Van Pelt other than she that was a colleague of Jane's, so he would not comment on any philosophical implications.
Just a mother. Of course. And Jack the Ripper's victims were just prostitutes. And Noah's Ark Circus had only been kidnapping children. Sebastian smirked at Jane's flippant remark. "You have hardened your heart to Red John's acts, haven't you? That is impressive, to say the least."
He turned the compass over in his hands, searching the object for any other significant features. He was not concerned with the symbolism so much as the technical details -- if this compass was made, someone had to have gathered the materials and learned to make it... or paid someone else to. But that wasn't an idea he would voice without prompting. Jane was calling the shots and Sebastian would never interfere with that.
Jane's voice was flat. "He's been spending too much time around Kristina Frye." The reference might go over Sebastian's head, but the derision would be clear enough, even if he wasn't familiar with the self-proclaimed psychic Van Pelt was so fond of. Jane didn't like that one of the team was in Red John's cross hairs (or at least so closely scrutinized), but he figured it was an inescapable eventuality
( ... )
No recognition showed on Sebastian's face when Jane said the name Kristina Frye, but the clear scorn in Jane's voice did not escape him. "This Miss Frye has not garnered your respect, I assume?"
Was it compulsion, or was Red John just doing this for fun? Sebastian's comprehension of the human psyche was a good 120 years behind. Either way, he didn't comment, he simply accepted Jane's explanation and moved on.
Might be? Local? Too broad. "I might be able to do many things, Jane," he said, sounding disinterested. He turned the compass over again, so that the letters and needle showed face up. Jane would need to learn to give direct orders if he wanted Sebastian to act with any effectiveness.
I'm pulling the vic out of my ass, no real plotty tiems thereclearlythatsmeJuly 25 2010, 00:55:46 UTC
Jane just snorted. Sebastian knew his take on 'psychics' and Jane didn't want to put himself in an even worse mood than he already was.
"There are two places off the top of my head that I can guess would make something like that." He rattled off the addresses of the businesses, and started to walk out of the room, having already catalogued any necessary information when first finding the crime scene. CBI would be on the other stuff.
"Start looking there. If they give you a hard time, press them." He was confident that either the compass was made there, or it was workmanship that the jewelers would recognize.
"You called for me, Mr. Jane?"
Reply
He had also been avoiding the sleek metal contraptions that operated as cars these days. He'd never been in one himself; although he'd had to track one down once. The Italian gangsters had enjoyed their decadence while the rest of the world clung to horse and carriage. Sebastian sat in the passenger seat, shoulders impossibly straight, and glanced around as Jane spoke. Technology, as Sebastian noticed time and again, did advance rather quickly. Humans were always inventing new and improved methods to kill themselves, and he suspected this was no different. He made no move to fasten a seat belt.
He turned to Jane then, and raised one thin eyebrow. "'My thing?'" Being vague would earn Jane no favours, not in this game.
Reply
He turned to Sebastian. "Tell me what you need to find him. Unless you don't need me at all, in which case I'll stand back and let you work. My only stipulation in this is that when you find him, I want him alive. Red John is mine." Jane figured it went without saying--to Sebastian of all people--that a heinous, brutal death was in store for Red John.
Reply
"I thought I made this perfectly clear, Jane. You are in control. I am no more than a piece upon your board. You are more than needed; you will be the one making the moves. And the one to claim your checkmate." He smirked knowingly at Jane. He would make no move to stop Jane from killing Red John in the most painful way possible. If ordered, he would help. If not, he would simply stick to the shadows and watch, vastly amused.
Reply
"Red John left me something at the last murder. I have the privilege of going in first, and pocketed it before anyone else saw it. You said you can track people, and I can too. But I can't do it while CBI is breathing down my neck right now. Lisbon suspects I'm keeping something from her."
He stared straight ahead as he spoke, hands gripping the wheel in frustration. Jane wanted to run off on this lead himself, right now, but knew that if he took off and didn't come into work, CBI would follow him and ruin his plans. They'd want to arrest Red John, not butcher him like he deserved.
"I'll tell you where to start looking; it'll be like being in two places at once."
Reply
He nodded at Jane's instructions to show he understood. "Yes, sir." That was much more direct and to the point. Jane was a fast learner. Sebastian discreetly scanned the landscape as it flew by, just a blur of shapes and colours. This was much closer to the speed he could achieve by running. Humans certainly had come a long way since inventing the wheel.
Reply
He parked the car and got out, totally disregarding the DO NOT CROSS police tape blocking off the front yard and doorways. "Forensics has already done their thing, so you can touch whatever you like." Jane led the way into the house, which looked perfectly normal until they got to the bedroom, which was a gruesome scene; the mattress was still soaked with blood, there were spatters on the carpet and of course the hallmark smiley face on the far wall.
Murders probably never changed, no matter what era it was.
Reply
He showed no outward reaction when stepping into the blood-soaked bedroom, and gave only the briefest sweeping of the room with his eyes. He already had a good idea of how it had been committed just by the splash patterns of crimson; he had spilled enough blood to know. And of course the smiley face. Sebastian tilted his head at it slightly.
An overly sentimental touch. Betraying the murderer as human. No supernatural being would have bothered with such a signature, even as a simple mockery.
Reply
"This was laying on her chest when I walked in." In his hand was a small gold compass, cleaned of blood (there would be no fingerprints on it, Red John wore gloves). It was unremarkable save for the fact that the four cardinal directions had been replaced with initials: L, V, C, R. Obviously it referred to the CBI team. "It's hand made, not something he modified from a shop."
Reply
He swiveled. His black bangs swished with the movement and nearly brushed his shoulders. He held the compass lightly in his fingers and studied the behavior of the needle, checking if it remained faithful to North.
He raised his chin and looked to Jane. "Who is the victim with whom this was found?"
Reply
He shook these thoughts off quickly, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. "She was no one significant; just a mother, middle-class." He regretted saying it that way as soon as it came out of his mouth; no mother was just a mother.
Reply
Just a mother. Of course. And Jack the Ripper's victims were just prostitutes. And Noah's Ark Circus had only been kidnapping children. Sebastian smirked at Jane's flippant remark. "You have hardened your heart to Red John's acts, haven't you? That is impressive, to say the least."
He turned the compass over in his hands, searching the object for any other significant features. He was not concerned with the symbolism so much as the technical details -- if this compass was made, someone had to have gathered the materials and learned to make it... or paid someone else to. But that wasn't an idea he would voice without prompting. Jane was calling the shots and Sebastian would never interfere with that.
Reply
Reply
Was it compulsion, or was Red John just doing this for fun? Sebastian's comprehension of the human psyche was a good 120 years behind. Either way, he didn't comment, he simply accepted Jane's explanation and moved on.
Might be? Local? Too broad. "I might be able to do many things, Jane," he said, sounding disinterested. He turned the compass over again, so that the letters and needle showed face up. Jane would need to learn to give direct orders if he wanted Sebastian to act with any effectiveness.
Reply
"There are two places off the top of my head that I can guess would make something like that." He rattled off the addresses of the businesses, and started to walk out of the room, having already catalogued any necessary information when first finding the crime scene. CBI would be on the other stuff.
"Start looking there. If they give you a hard time, press them." He was confident that either the compass was made there, or it was workmanship that the jewelers would recognize.
Reply
His lips slunk into a smile when he received that last order. Finally. Permission to play. "As you wish."
Reply
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