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THE CRIMINAL AU MEME

Warning: This meme will contain violent content and possible triggers.

HOW TO PLAY:
1) Post a comment below, detailing your character and canon. For best results, DO NOT LEAVE THIS COMMENT BLANK; pick a role, or an AU, or write up a little on what you'd like to explore with your character.
2) Tag around and make magic happen.
3) If you get stuck, use RNG to select from the options below.

THE ROLE.
1) Criminal. (The one who committed the act.)
2) Law enforcement. (Cop, FBI, prison guard.)
3) Witness. (What did you see?)
4) Victim. (Probably not applicable in the case of murder. … Probably.)
5) Lawyer, judge, or paralegal. (Participant in the legal system.)
6) Private security. (Unaffiliated, but with an interest in keeping your client safe. Or in getting your target caught.)
7) Other. (Let your imagination go wild.)

THE CRIME.
1) ROBBERY. The crime of stealing via force or threat or fear.
You need the money. You're desperate. You have the gun, the convenience store is right there, and everything will be better once you've finished the job.

Or maybe you've been hired. Provide a little intimidation, and someone else will take care of all your problems.

Or it's a thrill. Rolling across the country, robbing banks as you go. A Bonnie & Clyde crime spree, and it can only end one way.

2) BURGLARY. Illegal entry into a building for the purposes of committing theft.
Non-violence, for you; you're just going to break in, take this one thing. Maybe a television, to sell for the cash. Maybe some jewelry, a computer.

Or maybe you're a master thief, dangling from a wire into a museum. Sliding through the air ducts of a skyscraper in search of a particular little item.

3) GRAND THEFT AUTO. The criminal act of stealing a motor vehicle.
You know your cars. And you can steal one in under 60 seconds. Better hope you don't get tripped up with one of those newfangled security systems.

4) MURDER. The act of killing another.
He had to die. He had to, and the guilt of knowing where you buried the body, of knowing that the police are coming after you -- it's starting to wear down your sanity.

5) SERIAL MURDER. A crime involving the killing of three or more people over a period of more than a month.
You have a drive to kill. Again, and again. Nothing satisfies it, nothing stops it. Maybe you hate yourself. Maybe you hate the human scum who only exist to go under your knife.

Or maybe you're a professional hit man. You've killed dozens, you know how it goes. It's just business.

6) CONSPIRACY. An agreement between two or more persons to break the law at some time in the future.
Mafia, Yakuza, crime families who keep their operations quiet under pain of death, dishonor, betrayal of the family. You're part of one of these operations, whether as a patriarch or a peon.

7) FRAUD. Intentional deception made for personal gain.
Blackmail. Cover-ups. Insider trading -- the marks of corporate crime. Perhaps you're a CEO who thinks they can do whatever they want. Perhaps your business is on the rocks and you just need a little time to make your golden parachute before you ditch it.

Or maybe you meant to destroy it. Maybe you're a professional con man, and you're stepping away from your latest conquest with plenty of cash in hand.

8) KIDNAPPING. The false imprisonment of another person against their will.
Do you do it for the ransom? For the money? For revenge?

Or is it a hostage situation, with dozens of prisoners, for some sort of political gain?

9) TERRORISM. The systematic use of terror, especially as a means of coercion.
For a religion, for a philosophy. But -- are you a terrorist, or are you a freedom fighter? It might just be a matter of point of view.

10) WILD CARD. For any crime not mentioned above.

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[God no, she already is something else. Just within the confines of her job. Lightly, he runs his fingers over the bandages, before lowering his arm.]

Thank you. And, well. Hope you'll take this as a compliment, but I'm pretty sure you'd be at least as good at my job as I am.

[A compliment, and also an offer, but he doesn't have the faintest hope she'll take it. ]

[She's actually staring at him openly this time, hand still on his arm. After a few seconds, she realizes and drops it, instead studying them both in the mirror.]

You think so? Killing innocent people?

[Or the not-so innocent. Strangely, she doesn't sound angry.]

[He scoffs. There's no malice in his voice when he speaks, no bitterness. Just calm.]

Innocent? You're a cop, you know what people do.

[You know what the world is like. He doesn't mention war, the amount of friendly fire, the amount of bystanders catching bullets, or, decades later, stepping on landmines. Innocent or guilty doesn't come into it.
Like an afterthought, his eyes follows hers to the mirror. Only then does he answer her question.]

Yeah, I think so.

[She knows. Her childhood had taught her that people were never innocent, no matter how innocent they appeared. That was why it was so rare when they actually were good and why she had thought that her duty was to protect them. But the police system was broken -instead of protecting the innocent people, she was protecting the gangs of the city.]

I know. But you make sure the people you kill are at least .. mostly guilty?

[You have a chance, here, Clint. Don't fuck it up.]

Why do you think I believe you when you say there's a bounty on my head? [He glances over at her. There aren't many reasons why people would hold a grudge against a hitman.]

I don't accept every possible job people throw at me. Puts a dent in my reputation I guess.

[There's a shrug there. It's not what he's worried about.]

[The bathroom is very small - small enough that hanging out in here is probably a bad idea. But .. she can't have this conversation out in the open - so why not in a bathroom?]

Not in my eyes.

[Not that he really has a reputation with her. Yet.]

It's .. going to be a long night, I suppose.

Looks that way, yeah.

[breathe in, breathe out. The bathroom was small all along but didn't feel this cramped until now, with that statement and the residual tension from the fight hanging overhead. He looks at her, aware, now, of how she hasn't moved an inch further away since she got done bandaging his arm. Not that he moves away either.]

So you see me as... what? Not a monster the world's better off without, or you'd have shot me when I gave you the chance.

[It's awkward, but she refused to leave the room - she couldn't leave the awkward hanging there, especially considering she has to sleep here. Sleeping was so much easier when you are convinced the person you're sharing the bed (or room, or apartment) with wasn't going to murder you. Still, she almost looks surprised at the question.]

You're .. a person, aren't you? With a very unique skillset, who is currently selling that skill to the highest bidder. You could do better, but as a whole, you're not a monster.

[He lets that sink in. A person. He hasn't felt like much of a person in a while. Isn't sure how to feel about this verdict, if it matters, if it should. But then he shrugs his shoulders and his smirk is back, ironic edge and all.]

There are better places to talk than the bathroom, you know.

[Now that you're feeling better, Natasha is just going to favor you with an eyeroll and step out into the hall, poking around the apartment a bit more. She's careful, still - her guard is still up, but now that they aren't so close, she feels .. strangely breathless.]

There are better places to sleep than on the couch, if you want. I don't mind sharing a bed.

Yeah? Sure, why not.

[If she's poking around, she'll find a fairly clean kitchen, with a coffee machine that's clearly seeing the most use out of everything there. She'll see the muted television, where whatever movie he was likely watching has ended and there's only the tail end of a news broadcast to be seen which he switches off, at least once he's put the first aid kit away.
The bedroom is lived in but neat, with the closet firmly shut and heavy curtains that don't easily let light in or out. The bed isn't made, and easily big enough for two people. She'll also find that he doesn't stop her from poking around. It's just that his eyes follow her.
...And as much as he tries to keep himself aloof and neutral, she is still damn hot, more so now that he's seen some of what she's really like. Pretty dress and pretty hair alone can only go so far, but this woman is something else.]

[It's nice enough, and she ends up in the bedroom before she finally throws a glance over her shoulder at him. She could feel his eyes following her, burning, but had chosen to ignore him. Now she was looking at him, giving him the universal sign for "what?" - did she have something in her teeth?

After a moment, her lips curved into a small smile.]

Was the married-boyfriend-coworker a bit much? Did that tip you off?

[Clint doesn't answer anything but the spoken question, just arches an eyebrow as he lingers in the doorway for a moment. Smiles back.]

I think it was the combination of the dress, the huge purse, and being in a foreign city wanting to rent an apartment, but not having a cell phone.
And, well, really wanting to get into my apartment in the middle of the night.

[And he enters, perhaps stupidly unafraid.]

[Oh, ouch. He's actually hit her pride this way. Her look deepens, grows darker and more .. sensual.]

Is that so? If you were a normal man, you wouldn't have hesitated so long.

[Attention to detail, and paranoia. Without, there is no way he'd still be alive.]

You already know I'm pretty far from normal.

[When he approaches her, he steps blatantly into her personal space, meeting her eyes with a smirk. There's no threat though. She is tempting, and he is damn tempted, but he has enough restraint. It's her move.]

[Should she be frightened of him? Given their fight beforehand, probably not. They were fairly evenly matched and she could rebound quickly if need be. She didn't shrink from his look, instead matching him, turning slightly so that they were facing each other.]

You don't have normal desires, do you?

[Her smile turns teasing.]

Interested in men, are you?

[He scoffs, but recovers his grin. Did he hurt her pride?]

No actually. Would I have to be gay not to jump at the chance to sleep with you?

[Teasing right back. But he doesn't delude himself, at this distance this isn't a game he can play for long.]

[Natasha openly looks him up and down before nodding.]

Yes. Even if we were just trying to kill each other.

[But, if he doesn't want her, she'll just turn away~]

Mmhm. You're damn full of yourself. [And part of him wants to let her turn away, see how far he can carry it just to spite somebody's judgement. Except, he really doesn't care that much, and shit who is he kidding? He wants her.

So when she turns, Clint's arm settles around her waist, pulls her back, closer, against him, before he leans down and kisses her neck. Not trying to shut her up, not at all. Claiming power over her isn't his game. Now, is she still playing him? ...Or maybe it doesn't matter.]

Finally.

[She breathed under her breath when he grabbed her, letting him tug her back and turning her head to the side exposing her neck for him to kiss every inch of it if he wanted. He was warm, he was there - he wasn't about to kill her at the moment. Allowing him to lavish attention on her for a moment, she tries her best to turn in his arms, hands seizing him by the collar as soon as they are face to face, tugging him down for a scalding kiss.]

[He doesn't hinder her, doesn't try to. One hand smoothes down her back, squeezing her ass as they kiss and he returns that heat in kind. His free hand sneaks up to the nape of her neck, and further up, fingers tangling in her hair. Feeling her pressed against him, though a few layers of clothing don't leave that much to the imagination, still doesn't quite seem good enough.]

[Immediately as his lips were on hers, it wasn't enough. She wasn't fumbling, but she was slightly frantic - clearly it'd been a while and now that she finally had him where she wanted him, she didn't want to wait. Nipping at his lower lip, sucking lightly after each bite, her fingers tug at the bottom of his shirt.]

[Clint didn't mind, they'd been dancing around this since she set foot in here, and while he wasn't impatient himself, he was more than happy to go along with her pace. When he took his hands off her it was only to shrug the jacket off, and hey, if she wanted to take that chance to strip off his shirt, he was not about to stop her.]

[At least this way they could be up front about things - this wasn't the beginning of some fated romance, or anything like that. This was a (slight awkward) hook up in the wake of two people who have lots of chemistry and hapen to be working on opposite sides of the law. That was it.

Breaking away for a moment, she tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, tugging him back down for a kiss, lips hungry. When she broke away for a second time, it was to fumble with his jeans.]

Are you going to .. deny this any more?

Hell no.

[Slightly breathless, now, but while she fumbled with his pants, and that made him swallow a groan just from the proximity, he reached around her and unzipped her dress. A bit of quid pro quo.

There were scars - pale and faded tales of a few grazes and a very few close calls - that decorated his body, though not enough to suggest recklessness. He didn't even consider that she might bat an eye at them.]

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redhourglass - 2012-07-08 02:23 (UTC) - Expand

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