OTA

Jan. 6th, 2017 01:10 pm
alcuin: (dark)
[personal profile] alcuin posting in [community profile] londoncallingrpg
The call had come at about 6:30 in the morning. Alcuin had been the most frequent phone number in Hannibal Lecter's phone logs, and he had no next of kin. They needed someone to identify a body. They had already established that dental records were a match, so this was really just a necessary formality, they told him once he was at the police station, sitting there numbly. There was no need to show him the body itself, someone explained kindly, as to be frank, it was burned beyond recognition. But two pieces of jewelry had been found on it.

The attendant handed Alcuin a watch and a ring. They were Hannibal's. He felt like throwing up.

They told him they were still investigating, but the house was nearly entirely gone. The rapid nature of the fire's spread suggested accelerant. Arson. In other words, though they did not say it, murder.

They had let him keep the watch and the ring, and gave him the number of a grief counselor, and a police officer told him that they would be in touch about the investigation. They'd also asked him where he had been the night before. The answer was home, alone, and Alcuin felt sick with the knowledge that he could somehow be a suspect in this. Again.

He'd said as little as possible during the entire ordeal. Tried to think as little as possible. It was nearly 9am by the time he emerged from the police station and onto the city sidewalk in what seemed like impossibly bright light. He took a couple of deep breaths and then bolted over and retched into a trash can.

Date: 2017-01-06 08:59 pm (UTC)
sauntereddownward: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sauntereddownward
Crowley was out for a morning walk. He had a go cup with a cardboard sleeve, the brew steaming up out of the small hole that he sipped from. But he wasn't sipping because at the moment he had a lit cigarette held between his lips. He wore a black suit with black snakeskin shoes. a black topcoat with a warm black scarf, and black leather gloves lined for the cold.

And of course he had on his sunglasses. Nothing suspicious on a bright morning like this.

He saw Alcuin vomiting in a bin and plucked his cigarette from his lips and exhaled a cloud of smoke and breath.

"Whyever are you vomiting out here?" he asked, then spared a glance at the police station. "Did you spend the night in the drunk tank?"

He was in a good mood and though he didn't sound concerned, he sounded quite friendly as he asked.

Date: 2017-01-06 09:07 pm (UTC)
sauntereddownward: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sauntereddownward
"How perfectly rude. I was only inquiring about why you were ill," Crowley replied smoothly, well aware of why Alcuin might not want him around. But now this...this was too good to let go of.

"Come now. Come. Whatever has you in such a state, dear boy?" he asked.

Date: 2017-01-06 09:14 pm (UTC)
sauntereddownward: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sauntereddownward
"How bothersome," Crowley replied, wrinkling his nose. He took another drag and then dropped his cigarette. It lay there on the pavement, a wisp of smoke rising from it.

He stepped forward and awkwardly laid his hand on Alcuin's shoulder.

"Murdered, you say? Dreadful."

Date: 2017-01-06 09:21 pm (UTC)
sauntereddownward: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sauntereddownward
"This is called sympathy, pet. I can see you're distraught," he replied, slightly annoyed, and gave Alcuin's shoulder a firm, warm, and somewhat awkward pat. Crowley wasn't incapable of sympathy...he just didn't show it. Ever, really.

Date: 2017-01-06 09:27 pm (UTC)
sauntereddownward: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sauntereddownward
Crowley was deeply startled by that and he held his coffee out so it wouldn't be spilled. The other hand he held up as well, letting Alcuin cling to him while he stood, looking as if he'd been splashed with sewage.

"There, there," he said. "There, there."

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Date: 2017-01-06 11:52 pm (UTC)
whispersoflove: (caught out/caught you)
From: [personal profile] whispersoflove
Anael loved the feeling of the cold in London in the morning. It didn't make him uncomfortable in any way, of course; on the contrary, the crispness in the air reminded him of flying high up, the chill of the colder winds. He was ambling along, hands in his pockets, rather conspicuous in how little warm clothing he was wearing - anyone out in a t-shirt and denim jacket ought to be freezing.

But then his smile faded, as the familiar, devastating feeling of love grieving, of heartache beyond words, swept over and through him. He couldn't help himself, and wouldn't have wanted to; he picked up the pace and followed that feeling all the way to its origin.

And his heart broke all over again when its origin turned out to be Alcuin.

"Alcuin," he greeted him quietly, as he stepped beside him, a hand on his back. He wasn't going to ask if he was all alright; it would have been obvious that he wasn't even to men. He wasn't going to ask what was wrong; Alcuin would tell him if he needed to, wanted to. Anael would only be here for him. This, he hoped he could do.

Date: 2017-01-09 04:51 pm (UTC)
whispersoflove: (Default)
From: [personal profile] whispersoflove
Anael was not in the least surprised. He wrapped his arms securely, steadily around Alcuin, and held him, only just realising that they were standing outside of a police station. "Let it out," he told him in a whisper. "Let it all out. I've got you."

Date: 2017-01-09 05:19 pm (UTC)
whispersoflove: (Default)
From: [personal profile] whispersoflove
"Oh, Alcuin," Anael whispered softly, eyes closed against the tears that welled up in them from the force of Alcuin's grief. "I am so, so sorry to hear that." He had never trusted Hannibal. There was a coldness and a perversion to what little love he felt that put the angel on edge. But of course he felt for Alcuin. He could not help it, and would not have wanted to.

Date: 2017-01-09 05:36 pm (UTC)
whispersoflove: (Default)
From: [personal profile] whispersoflove
"No one who knows you will," Alcuin assured him, cupping his face with a hand. He resisted the urge to glance at the police station and pressed a kiss to Alcuin's forehead. "Let's get you home, love."

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Date: 2017-01-07 03:54 pm (UTC)
wispofathing: (Black Eyes)
From: [personal profile] wispofathing
The pain rolled off him in waves and Curnen could no more resist that than she could the sound of her own name. It was a pain she knew, and it struck somewhere deep in her heart and made the whole damn thing echo like a bell. When she came closer, she knew why he'd resonated so. He had the blood in him. Less than half, probably a grandparent or further back, but enough to be noticed if you knew what to look for.

Gently, trying not to spook him, she put her hands on his pale hair which was just about long enough to get vomit in it and held it away from his face.

Date: 2017-01-07 05:25 pm (UTC)
wispofathing: (Holding Back)
From: [personal profile] wispofathing
Curnen jumped back as well, holding up her hands in something that was half placating gesture and half displaying that she was empty-handed and didn't mean any harm. "Didn't mean to scare you," she said quietly.

Date: 2017-01-07 07:19 pm (UTC)
wispofathing: (Secrets)
From: [personal profile] wispofathing
"You looked like you could prolly use some help," Curnen answered as neutrally as possible, but the darting of her eyes taking in details of his distress belied any attempt to be cool. "Not much good comes out of a police station this early."

Date: 2017-01-07 08:31 pm (UTC)
wispofathing: (Somber)
From: [personal profile] wispofathing
She had not entirely intended to ask, though she supposed it was implicit in what she'd said. And even though she had a sense of deep, personal loss before the confirmation, Curnen still flinched to hear it. "I'm sorry," she said. "There ain't really any good words for that."

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