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the film noir meme

-Pick out your character and fandom, as well as preferences.
-Go here and generate a random number between 1-10 for the setting
-Post all that.
-If you want, you or the person tagging you can roll a number between 1-8 for relationship as well!
- You know what to do next, honey.

Possible settings:

1. Crime Scene: Dead body? Burglary? Whatever the crime, it's been sectioned off for the officers to investigate this nefarious deed, and you're getting a good look at it.

2. Speakeasy: Prohibition's such a joke to society, and this is where the fashionable ones come to hang out and gossip. Perhaps a police officer or two will show up to investigate, but no one ever takes that seriously.

3. Docks at Night: The breeze caressing your face, the sound of the water, the boats passing by...maybe you were called here, or maybe you just like the peace it brings.

4. Alleyway: There's only one way in and out of this little corridor, and what happens in it is up to you and the other character. Just watch for the shadows, if you can see through the fog.

5. Detective's Office: Not too clean, not too messy. Just perfect for the person that's needed to get this mystery cleared up.

6. Rooftop: The wind dramatically blowing about, it's the perfect place to get that person to come and meet you so you can tell them what you want. Or if you're evil, why not kill them up here? It'll be hard to escape you.

7. Dressing Room: For some reason, you're backstage after a performance, and you've gotten into one of these. The mirrors, the costumes, the flowers from fans and the various personal affects...all are present and will be your silent witnesses to whatever occurs.

8. Hideout: You've gotten to the antagonist's spot of choice. Is this a glitzy nightclub with a private room, or is this an abandoned warehouse where they-or you-carry out their plot? The choice is yours.

9. Nightclub: Someone's showcasing their talent tonight, and you may or may not care about it. But it's classic, dimly lit, and it's easy to hide in here.

10. Free choice

Possible relationships:

1. Friends: Maybe you're an unstoppable team, or perhaps your relationship is getting strained. But whatever the situation, you know this person, and you'd be there for them.

2. Coworkers/teammates/classmates: You might not be friends, but you know this person well enough to remember their name. And right now you're being thrown together for a reason.

3. Lovers: This is the one you wanted to stay with for now. Married, dating, or maybe an affair, but you two care about each other enough.

4. Enemies: Utter hatred flows through your veins when you hear this person's name. This is the one you want to take down, and you just might stop at nothing to achieve your goal.

5. Family: Perhaps it's a sibling you're meeting. Or your parent, or some form of relative. Remember that phrase "blood is thicker than water"? It just might apply here.

6. Mysterious Stranger: Someone's been eyeing you from across the room, or you've been eyeing them. Will you two speak, or shall they float out of your life? Do they hold information you seek, or do they want something from you?

7. Femme/Homme Fatale: You are or have encountered a mysterious and seductive person, whose charms ensnare their lovers in bonds of irresistible desire, often leading them into compromising, dangerous, and deadly situations. Watch out, you might just get yourself into a real mess of trouble, hot stuff.

8. Free Choice

Taken from

easycompany without permission.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

[OOC: Do you want to do something slightly AU-ish with these two? I rolled 3 for relationship, but 7 is very much River. Perhaps former lovers that reunite on a case? Setting of your choice!]

[ooc: impress me with whatever is up your sleeves, RIVER MY RIVER. Setting that might be interesting: docks at night.]

On a piece of memo paper swiped from the hotel lobby -

Nolan case not an accident. Meet at the docks tonight for more information. Quarter of 1am.

~MM

P.S. I shouldn't have to tell you to come alone.

Detective Melody Malone placed a bright red lipstick kiss to the back of the envelope, sealing the note inside before surreptitiously sliding it under a hotel room door. She made a quick dash down the hall, certain no one had seen her. Tailing a man back to his hotel room was one thing, making sure neither he nor the staff glimpsed her was another.

Quick as a flash, even in heels, the woman Melody Malone retired to the loft above her office for a glass of scotch. She needed something to pass the time and finding herself a nice Adonis of a man for an hour or two was out of the question. No, instead she relaxed and even dozed off for a bit until it was time for her rendezvous.

The docks seemed a fitting meeting place. She'd always been drawn to the water; its versatility, ability to be both soothing and yet overwhelmingly powerful. Or was that why she'd been drawn to him all those years ago?

It felt like another lifetime. She'd been working as a cigarette girl in Dorium Maldovar's high-class saloon back then, with dreams of being in motion pictures. Ending up a witness to a mafia hit had not been part of the plan. That was how they'd met; he'd questioned her and promised her protection.

That protection gave way to infatuation on her end and eventually a torrid love affair, in all senses of the word. After all, she'd technically been married.

The sound of footsteps took her from her sudden desire to reminisce.

"I knew you'd come," she said, still staring out at the water as footsteps came closer. "Never could resist a mysterious message, could you?"

She got to her feet and turned to face him, wondering how long it would take to recognize her. She'd changed quite a bit over the years, including the name she went by. "Hello, sweetie."

[And ugh, I'm at work and I accidentally closed the tab, losing about 2 paragraphs.]

He had been an investigator for the city and the surrounding areas for quite some time. So long, the nickname he had apparently adopted, 'the Doctor', seemed more and more his identity now than his actual name. He wasn't sure when the last time he even heard it.

But when he walked through the damp night in the light fog to the docks, he had to admit his heart was racing as he tugged the collar of his brown jacket closer to his chin. In his mind, the initials MM flashing over and over on repeat. He knew those initials, knew the name. It had been circulating through various circles around the city for the last few years, but he had yet to ever place a face to the name. Now was his chance!

There was a lone figure on the dock, a woman's, as he came closer. When she turned around his eyes were wide with surprise as he immediately recognized an old face - not in the physical sense - but from his past. A smile came upon his face as his shoulders relaxed, "I really shouldn't be surprised that you're Melody Malone. You've always been so terribly clever." And he loved her for that.

[OOC: Sobs 5ever. :c Also, I thiiiink the bathtub thread notif probably didn't get sent your way like the bodyguard one previously.]

The Angel Detective Agency had certainly picked up a decent reputation in the past few years, especially its head investigator, one Melody Malone. She prided herself on efficiency and discretion. And pretty much any means necessary to get the job done.

"Yes you really shouldn't be, 'Doctor'," she replied, teasingly emphasizing his moniker. "But it's good to know you're still as charming as ever. It's been a while." She had the tiniest hint of a smile as she stood in front of him, hands in the pockets of her tan trench coat. "Don't you ever age?"

He looked much the same as she remembered; slender and upbeat, handsome, and brilliant. Was it long-suppressed feelings returning to the surface? She'd kept a few tabs on his career since they parted; he was doing well for himself like always, and she was happy for him. Though she had to laugh at how persistent his title was. To her he would always be-- no, no time for those memories right now. There was work to be done.

"I'm a bit older," He teeth showed as he smiled and there were some lines by his eyes to match, "A bit wiser, some would say." And most certainly lonelier. When he first met River, he recently ended a relationship and poured himself into his work. His secretary, Donna, always teased him about Miss Song - but that's where she was wrong. It was missus, and finally both must've unspokenly realized that and agreed what was taking place was to be no more.

That seemed to be common between them - unspoken agreements. It was as if each had known each other for so long, that everything seemed to make sense. That they knew each other; she more than him, if he were to admit it.

"So," He begins, absent-mindedly rubbing at a closed eyelid out of habit, "What do you know of the Nolan case that I don't?"

"Oh, plenty, sweetie," she said smugly. "For starters, Ms. Nolan was the type of woman who never turned down anything except the bedcovers. And considering she was supposed to be Rocky Richter's main squeeze, I don't think he would've taken too kindly to another fella honkin' his favorite horn, if you catch my drift."

Lawrence 'Rocky' Richter was the heir apparent to a successful bar/restaurant that everyone knew was the headquarters for local gangsters. As the favored bruiser of the current mob king pin, it seemed likely he would ascend to that throne as well in time.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a photographs of other crime scenes. "Thing is, he's got a perfect alibi for the night of Ms. Nolan's 'accident'. But it seems like accidents crop up around Mr. Richter a lot. January 16th, for instance - Dean Hobbs, Nolan's closest male friend, apparently drank himself to death outside Richter's establishment. January 29th, Hobbs' sister is spotted canoodling with Richter. Not the least bit broken up over her brother's death, which seems to have caused a tiff with Ms. Nolan. February 4th, Ms. Hobbs disappears. Found two weeks later, crashed in a lake, poor thing. During her disappearance, three of Ms. Nolan's latest flings shuffle off the mortal coil in a variety of freak accidents. And of course, you already know Ms. Nolan's untimely fate. But did you happen to know that the medical examiner in all of these cases is one Robert Clark, formerly Robert Murciano, as in Kingpin Murciano's nephew?"

The Doctor nodded as she explained this and flipped through her photos. They were all things he already knew and had pieced together on his own, well decorated on a cork board in his office where he stared at it, day in and day out.

However, the last piece of information was completely new to him, "Kingpin Murciano?" He spoke the name like it had a bitter taste in his mouth. His nose scrunched, and he looked away to breathe.

"That can't be right." The Doctor, unfortunately, had history with this Kingpin, and his entire family. It was really a wonder how he himself wasn't dead yet just by association. "Do you have access to his files from the autopsies?" He's forcing down any disgust or frustration at the news.

Her smug look continued; not only had she known something he hadn't, the delivery of the news actually had an effect on him.

"In a manner of speaking."

She reached her hand between her cleavage to pluck out a key she'd tucked within her lacy unmentionables. The key to Mr. Clark/Murciano's filing cabinet. "Care to explain why 'that can't be right'?"

An eyebrow was raised as he watched her hand travel to obtain said key, but he tried not to show much interest. At least that hadn't changed about her.

"Because I know Robert Clark. I've known him for years, and his family... Bloody hell, I was at his house sharing a glass of wine a weekend ago. I was at his kid's recital the other night!" This news wasn't broken easily and the Doctor scrubbed his face.

"How can I know you're right?" But the bigger question - how much was he being watched if this were all true?

"Clearly you don't know him as well as you think," she replied with a skeptical look. She pitied the fact that he was affected like this, but...well, those were the breaks. In this city it was only a matter of time before you got your hands dirty or saw someone close to you get there first.

"You can't," she said very simply. "Short of breaking in to look at the files together, that is. Or if you feel like being sentimental and trusting me. Up to you, sweetie."

So many feelings ran through him, that he could barely place words to them. Anger. Sadness. Frustration. Disappointment. The list continued and he sighed.

He gently tugged at his earlobe as he stood there in thought, "Can I trust you?" It had been years and suddenly she showed up again? He was alone now, and was fine with it, but seeing her again opened up even more complex emotions.

"I need to know I can trust you."

Her hands reflexively clenched; an old habit she'd never quite put aside. She'd known it was risky getting in touch with him again, but she hadn't known - or rather, hadn't hoped that the conversation would take this turn.

"You could always trust me," River replied, taking the photos and returning them to her coat. "I'm just not sure you want to believe that after what happened."

Her hands returned to her pockets, and she looked at him dead-on. "Whatever you're thinking, just go ahead and ask. I know you're dying to."

He licked his lips, "Why did you come to me after all these years? Why?"

A ridiculous part of him wondered if she knew how lonely he was, but he quickly shook that off. Of course she didn't, but maybe she had been thinking about him after all these years too.

"I've changed since then." His name was barely uttered these days, he barely slept, and he had grown a bit more manic with his desire to solve cases now that he was left to his own devices and limitless time.

"Because apparently I'm a sentimental broad," she said with a bit of self-deprecating snark. She let out a huff through her nostrils. "Taking a bullet to the chest makes for a lot of self-reflection, sweetie. Though I'm lucky it didn't ruin the view-" she nodded to her breasts. "It does make one think."

She paused to adjust how her hat sat on her head. "I've changed, too. And not necessarily for the better. Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm a great detective. Damn great. But a good person? I don't know anymore. All I know is when I was with you...I was better. So much better." An uneven breath escaped her, and she turned from him, looking out towards the water.

She had thought of him over the years - often. Why else did the bottom drawer of her office desk have a small scrapbook of newspaper clippings about his cases? Why did she still have every little trinket he'd ever given her? None of them had substantial value outside of sentiment.

"And happier."

He's silent for a moment, with both hands tucked away in pockets as he listened. "You were shot? When?" He has a more sympathetic look upon him as he looked her up and down and attempted to see if he could see the scarring from her top.

But her reply? He nods. "I trust you." Although it was difficult to imagine his friend had lied to him all these years. It didn't seem possible he'd be that stupid and miss it. And yet he hadn't seen River probably in 2-3 years and he immediately trusted her? Perhaps it was due to the lingering feelings that were resurfaced.

"Let's go see the files, then."

"Six months ago," she replied. The way her coat crossed her breasts obscured the view for the moment. But it was there, the scar that reminded her daily she was lucky to be alive. "I was in the right place at a very wrong time." That was all she cared to say on it.

She gave her own stiff nod, trying to ignore the quick elevation of her heartbeat when he said that. She knew she still carried a spark of affection for him, but she didn't want to risk her heart catching fire again.

"Yes, let's." River/Melody agreed, holding out the key to him. Assuming he didn't sprint off with it, it was a sign of trust. Partnership.

Edited 2013-12-07 10:23 (UTC)

He took the key and pocketed it safe and sound in his jacket pocket. "Right; let's go."

Quietly, he moved down the streets with ease with River, and then hailing down cab finally. It wasn't that he didn't mind walking, just with the night being cool and damp, he'd hate to have her coming down with something.

Once outside the building, he looked around their surroundings. He didn't think there would be anyone following them, but you could never be too sure. When the clear was given, he got them in and walked down the dark halls.

During their journey, he barely had spoken to River, unsure what to say and played it off as being upset with his 'friend' to say anything else. "Brings back old times." He commented with a small smile to River.

The cab ride was quiet, each of them perhaps lost in thought or simply unsure of what to say to the other. "Should've expected as much," River thought, staring out of the taxicab window at the dark, gritty city. She'd just pulled the wool off his eyes to the true nature of one of his friends, after all.

She adjusted the belt of her coat and took a mental inventory of all things on her person - a habit she'd developed during her detective work. Gun, knife, wallet, lipstick...

"It does. Although old times you were a little more chatty," she said. "Then again, you and I were doing a lot more together than just cases so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

He nearly choked on his own spit at that last comment. They indeed did more and he quickly looked away, nervously tugging at an earlobe. "Right..."

Turning down to the right they find the office door of where all the files and papers were kept from the autopsies and cases. The Doctor managed to unlock the door with a contraption he had rigged up and within minutes, got them in. Turning on the light, there were various filing cabinets and shelves and bookcases with folders of information.

"Where would you like to start?" He exhaled, placing hands on his hips.

How lucky he was that it was still dark; he likely couldn't see her smirk as he nervously pressed on.

"With toys like that how'd you end up with The Doctor as a rubbish nickname and not something like The Inventor?" Melody Malone asked as he opened the door for them. She stepped in before him, her mind comparing the room to how she'd last seen it during the day when she'd swiped the key.

"Well, we've got the key - or, more specifically, you've got the key that I obtained. Might as well find the right cabinet," she said, reaching around around her person and patting her coat. "Bugger...left my torch in my other jacket. Ah!" She made a small sound of triumph as she pulled out a lighter, a leftover item from her cigarette girl days with Dorium Maldovar's faded logo on it. She took a moment to flick it open, giving them a bit of extra light. She cradled it with her other hand and looked over her shoulder at him.

"Ladies first?"

She's not talking about herself, Doc.

The Doctor finds the cabinet where Mrs. Nolan's files would be held and unlocked it. There were three thick folders with her information there from the case and relating it to other cases.

"I suppose we should collect who else was connected to her?" He glances up at River, "We probably shouldn't stay in case security is patrolling the area." Though he typically came here at odd times during the night and finished some of his own research work. He could easily get them off trouble. Only, he never brought files home with him.

After all was said and done, they had amassed quite a collection. "We should probably go."

"Take it all," River/Melody agreed, taking a moment to grab a few of the extra folders off the desk. "Put as much as we can in these and leave the original Nolan folders behind. If we stuff them he may not notice they're gone right away." The other files, of course, couldn't be helped - they'd have to steal them with original folders and all. There wasn't enough time to create decoys for all of them.

She capped her lighter and pocketed it, freeing up her hands to take some of the files from him and slip them within her coat, holding them against her chest. "Your place or mine, sweetie?" It was supposed to be a business question, but the wording.....Well, old habits die hard.

"My place," He blurted out the answer without thinking it, and then offers a smile, "I actually live just a few blocks away. It's closer to my office... and I was forced to move after an 'incident'."

The incident happened during last Christmas where he found out his identity was stolen and there was an imposter running around mucking up his cases. Luckily that was nipped in the bud rather quickly and he had to take the extra precaution of changing everything.

He made sure everything was closed and back in the proper place as best as they could manage, before holding the door for River to go through first.

As they walked quickly down the street he couldn't help to chuckle, "Don't mind the mess. I've been working on this case and a couple others for a while now. My place is a mass casualty." But he was never the most tidy. If she would recall, his mania tended to take over during certain points in open cases and he would amass a collection of mugs and tea cups scattered about his living space. Newspaper clippings would be pinned to a large board he always had on display where a TV should be.

the film noir meme

the Doctor | Doctor Who | OTA

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Took all day but.... impressed?

I'm always impressed by your tags!

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^///////////^ Blush