The Criminal AU Meme

[cerebel]

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.

Comments

[clansman]

[ an answer would waste breath and thought, and so mikoto doesn't even bother. he slides between the doors, absently heeling the swing of it shut behind him. a shot rings out, the sound of bullet cracking floor, a burst of dust and ceramics -- and in the moment that four out of four guards look sharply over their respective ledges to check for the noise, three shots ring out, mechanical with ease.

(fifty-six, fifty-seven --)

there's silence after that, a brief sputter of curses from a floor up. the fourth guard's jerked his head back behind the ledge by the time the third-lowest collapses -- his steps rattle sharply up the case as he makes his way out. fortunately mikoto's after him.

step after step, there's a fourth shot -- and, at last, silence.

(seventy-four and counting.) ]

[permit]

[ ... he'll admit, it's been a long time since he'd last found himself panicking.

but there it is -- a white-hot blare of anxiety shoots up through his nerves, adrenaline crashing into him like a wave that very nearly has him reaching out to grab a fistful of suoh's jacket before the other man storms into the guarded room before them like a sure idiot. reishi doesn't, of course, when blind desperation isn't something even his instincts know anything about. but his eyes widen marginally regardless, he breathes out of turn --

it turns out to be unnecessary in the end. (and he notes, a little less than clinically -- that suoh mikoto is an impatient, arrogant bastard to boot.)

there's a sigh -- meant, really, to be a laugh -- when he finally steps through the doors just seconds before the fourth shot. he fingers the hilt of the gun in his waistband when it finally rings out, pausing behind a pillar as he listens in on the commotion, straining his ears against the sound of the death rattle of one of the dying henchmen spilling blood on the floor before him.

he steps around to avoid staining his shoes. ]

Suoh.

[ he announces into the silence. because if that grand display of self-restraint didn't give away their position, then a simple check wouldn't hurt either.

so, pleasantly - ]

I don't suppose you're alive.

[clansman]

[ there's a laugh, faint and cut jagged from the chase. from a flight up, mikoto's braced a hand to lean over the railing: prominently graceless, and look at all the fucks he gives about it. ]

Munakata. [ only a little louder than his own summons. ] This way, right?

[ he's even, kindly, waiting. ]

[permit]

[ ... it's not as if there's much to be said.

which is partially why he doesn't say anything at all in response to the blatant dare in suoh's voice. reishi does, however, draw his gun, with a movement delicately precise, his motive incisive -- but he doesn't bring the weapon up to eye-level, pinning suoh with a carefully blank look. ]

deus and disappointing distraction, mea maxima culpa, we'll say i owe you a setup.

[clansman]

[ his answer comes in gestures: a glance to follow the draw and the sinking hand, and another laugh, dimmer than the last. his fingers flick in an idle little wave and he turns, hired muscle obligingly vanishing from the banister's edge.

get a move on. ]

and we'll say i owe you fifty one-liners free of mentions of headgear henceforth

[permit]

[ the huff comes just as suoh rounds behind the wall, just milliseconds too late. it's fine, it's not a real response anyway. (perhaps he's forgotten how to scowl after all of this time out of practice; that's fine, too, it doesn't matter -- his displeasure's obvious enough without a facial expression to match it.)

there's no rush as he heads on up the stairs after suoh mikoto, taking the time to loot a fedora off of one of the corpses as he goes. as much as he'd hate to admit it, the other man's brash charge through the front lines has given them an extra window of time even reishi's hard-pressed to put to efficient use. it's nice, at least, to take it easy, to breathe in and listen to the stillness from the balcony, to immerse himself in the tomb-like silence in the wake of suoh's massacre.

and then, at his watch hand's cue, he opens the door to the walled section of a skyway completely adorned with arched windows, and the streetlights down below illuminating the path. there are plenty of men walking along the streets beneath them, but he doesn't seem deterred.

he doesn't pause, depositing the hat in the empty space before suoh while they're both still out of sight. ]

Walk as usual. Don't dawdle, and don't speed up if you don't want to attract attention.

yeah, like you're ever cashing those.

[clansman]

[ his hands go up; automatically he catches the (non-lit, non-lethal, non-wait what the hell) hat by its brim, already walking before the question actually finds its way to his tongue -- ]

Disguises?

[ dry as a small, salted desert. ]

you don't know me

[permit]

Ah.

[ he's still standing, watching idly as suoh walks right past him into the small, closed-off corridor, just a few steps from the windowed area of the skyway. if suoh takes another step closer into the walkway, there's no doubt he'll - ]

The red is a bit of a giveaway.

but i judge you, i feel like that should count.

[clansman]

[ sssstopping just short. look, look, caution. ]

Yeah? To who?

[ . . . or, at least, a cousin of caution, possibly twice removed! ]

):

[permit]

[ pleasantly: ]

Are you truly this unaware of your notoriety, or was that asked in the rhetorical?

[clansman]

Hah. And you're not?

[ notorious, that is. LOOK, IT'S A REALLY STUPID-LOOKING HAT. ]

[permit]

Arguably. Or not at first glance, perhaps.

[ unhurried, and most importantly of all, unruffled. his shoulders roll in a gesture supposedly meant to be a shrug, but there's nothing casual in his elegantly kept gait, in the way his eyes warm with something less like laughter and more like a simmering flame. ]

They're less likely to notice anything unusual about a man with rather common physical features, no?

[clansman]

[ ... taking the hat ...

and staring at it. all the bloody intrigue derailed for headgear, and a total inability to blow out the floor. THIS IS DUMB. ]

[permit]

[ for how he moves (slow and purposeful, a rolling stride that only just keeps itself from flowing into a prowl) it happens quickly enough -- his heels don't make a sound when he takes a few steps forward with his arm extended, fingers sudden and firm over the back of suoh's knuckles, over the hand holding the fedora. another blink, and the crown of the hat slips over the other man's eyes and forehead, gets pushed with a pressure just shy of biting when the hard material digs into the bridge of suoh's nose.

that's when he leans forward over the man's shoulder, pressing the man against his side and close enough to feel the metal edges of his own gun digging into his hip between the press of their bodies. there's a smile in his tone, in his voice pitched too low to be overheard despite the fact that they're alone in the dimly lit hallway. ]

It's not too tall an order for your family's safety.

Is it?

[clansman]

[ pressure and determination prevail -- the hat, dutifully, gets squashed over his hair. only mikoto laughs; only he turns his head too, undisturbed by proximity or edges. ]

So. [ languidly said, and very close, absolutely unmoved. ] You oughta start moving, right?

[permit]

[ it's close enough to catch the acrid scent of gunpowder coming off of suoh mikoto, and before he can help it, his expression lids with distaste.

but it happens before he arranges the hat properly on suoh's head after all, and therefore it's nothing so giving. still, when reishi clamps a hand over the other man's shoulder with his fingers digging into the bone, it says more than his businessman's smile ever could. ]

With your hands in your pockets. Back straight, if you could.

[clansman]

[ the hat settles, a little high on his skull but enough to cap the color of his hair. which means his free hand finds better purchase in munakata's collar. idle, disinterested, only tugging down slightly.

he hasn't yet looked away. ]

Think they're gonna be looking that close?

[permit]

[ he doesn't spare suoh's grip a single note of extra recognition.

he's still calm, cordial, almost friendly when he drops his hand from the top of the other don's head, crooking his elbow and patting the arm attached to him with all the unruffled (patronizing) air of an owner to his pet. ]

But I will be.

[clansman]

[ there's no spoken answer to that -- but his grip flexes, fingers twisting higher, catching the line of his collar and turning until the line's taut enough to bite. ]

[permit]

[ a show of teeth that earns, at least, the sharp intake of a single breath out of turn

-- and a thin smile. the light glances off of his glasses with the movement, as the muzzle of his gun gets wedged against the sharp angle of suoh's hip as quick and sure as clockwork, precisely above where the blood flows thick through the artery. he flicks the safety off with a click that echoes, that rebounds off the walls. ]

[clansman]

[ it doesn't dig in enough for pain, but he pays attention enough anyway. he doesn't let go; he waits. it's his time that he's wasting as much as anyone else's and it doesn't even matter when his grip, his eyes are fixed and glittering. ]

Are you gonna fire?

[permit]

[ for the added difficulty a blocked trachea poses for him, reishi manages exceptionally well. still, when his answer comes, it's a tad rougher around the edges, with a voice almost too throaty to be taken as civil. ]

If you give me reason to.

[clansman]

[ low, unhurried, thoughtless - ]

So. There's no problem s'long as you keep moving. Right?

[permit]

The leash, [ pointedly, with rumbling enunciation - ] I could do without.

[clansman]

. . . hah. Move back, [ equally precise ] and I'll let go.