synchronesmi:

iq—187:

              _{{ – x – }}

^「◐」—  I_{n spite of purportedly mortal, or at the very least fleshly, form acquired, it barely needed to be pointed out that Dorian seldom associated with the conventionally human beyond those minor, superficial and fleeting interactions deemed necessary by the pursuit of illusion and upkeep; the paying of rent and the feeding of a knitted-together vessel that suddenly hungered were precise examples to that effect.}

                 _{As such, she was almost surprised when apprehended; almost, but not quite. She was equivalently old and observant enough by now, mind full of data and facts and recollections—not all of them quite her own—that very little proved truly unpredictable anymore;}

                          _{even so, she played at startled and discomfited for the sake of appearances.} 

                 _{It wouldn’t do to seem too comfortable, especially once the badges were displayed. Special Agent this, Special Agent that—flippancy of internal monologue notwithstanding, their names were likewise committed to memory as so many others had been. Though there was little interest in growing attached to individual humans (lest they prove themselves worthy of as much, of course), it would similarly be foolish to underestimate them; to deem them unworthy of simple notice. After all, there were far more of them than her solitary—if far more ancient and expansive—self.}

                 _{Being escorted into an unfamiliar vehicle was no particular toil.}

                                  _{So long as she remained unrestrained, of course; that was one way to cause a challenge no one wanted to deal with, Dorian herself included.}

                 _{Settled into a seat at a headquarters location so very like others across the state, the country, the continent, within the relative isolation of an interrogation chamber, it was something of a trial not to allow the faintest hint of an enigmatic smile to overtake her features. Watching people for their tiny tells of behavior was what these agents did, was it not?}

                 _{Not that she was exactly people, but, ah, that was a conversation for another time; she was telegraphing being people, which for all intents and purposes might as well have essentially been the same thing. Even the majority of ‘ordinary’ humans wore a disguise, a mask, of some kind.}

           _{[ perhaps that was what they held in common above all else. ]}

                 _{Cool-hued eyes fell, measured and calm, to what little she could see of the file across the desk; a note taken regarding to which of her forms the portrait taken pertained.}

           _{Not the most flattering of photographs, but, ah, she’d live. (Of course—since when did she do anything else?)} 

                 _{❝My involvement,❞ Dorian repeated, tone neutral, neither rising nor falling; not questioning, doubting, nor challenging; simply a recurrence of his own statement. Her head canted, own lips parted minutely in a somewhat calculated though superficially effortless mirroring (much like reflecting the light of the sun, no? Some things still came naturally), followed by a slow blink.}

                                  _{❝Of course. By all means; I’d be happy to help in any way I can.❞}

^「♟」 —  W_{hether or not the recently detained subject was implicated by the previous events directly or passively, six bodies were still war prize to whomever’s hand guided the guilty blade. Analytical vision and perception drank in images of tarnished corpses – desecrated in what was meant to be the sanctity of their own home. By this point in his career, bones, blood, and broken flesh could be deconstructed into statistics, clues, or even hints;}

                _{as if the final, inevitable destination of the human condition}

                _{was a game to be won.}

_{To seek out and personally collect an individual for the sake of uncovering anonymous variables was a result of two different, entirely diverging paths of circumstance: the figure pursued was finally coming clear through the haze of ignorance – or, unfavourably, the smoke was growing thicker, vaguer, darker still, leaving the silhouette marred and disembodied.} 

_{He knew, bitterly, like salt on his tongue, the latter was a trail increasing in likelihood —- however, to his own bustling thoughts, and the idle conversations clouding his attention in corridor passing, he fought to keep such a reality restrained until further notice. If they were lucky, keeping the photographed detainee in her figurative manacles until morning’s light may spare the boneyard another occupied plot.} 

_{Exclusive instruction from a superior’s hushed voice insisted he remain behind, as his use in the field waned in comparison to that of a closed setting. Discussion, resolute interrogation lacking in aggression, for the case at present, appeared to be a strong suit. Mental manipulation often proved the successor over physicality – although, like weather, like internal monologues withheld from exterior investigation – this differed from case to case.}

_{Once seated, Reid found his eye wandering casually to his reflected doppelgänger. If memory served, and it had, did, and would, those he trusted beyond expression waited immediately beyond the pane. Through the unseen exchanging of glances, doubts were settled in his stomach – but ripples in the water still met the lower rim of his lip.}

                                                  _{Even toned → at ease.}

                                                  _{Lax speech → prepared, well versed.}

                                                  _{Consenting → either innocent or experienced.}

_{Bottom lash lines twitched, features remained composed. Observations were silently compiled into lists, fragmented swiftly into subcategories tying back to similar phrasing, geographical situation, meaning and connotation. Countless suspects had passed inspection of him, his squadron – all boasting individual traits,}

                                                      _{almost each conforming to a pre-established}

                                                      _{character file of their sins.}

_{Third cursory glance to his left, an invisible nod of confirmation, and his gaze returned to the opposite’s eyes –}

         _{Placid. Serene, too much so.}

                                                                 _Comfortable.

_{❝Perhaps involvement was not the most accurate choice of wording – my team and I are greatly interested in any knowledge you may be subconsciously keeping, or actively withholding that would substantially expedite the progress of our investigation.❞}

_{Calloused digits met the sling of his jaw, and massaged briefly the cradle of bone before lower his grasp to one of three assorted writing utensils, ❝– I appreciate your compliance, especially considering the hand we played in drastically altering your schedule.}

                _{I’m going to show you several photographs – all taken within}

                 _{four to five days of another, all displaying victims of the same unsub we’ve}

                 _{arrived in your area to apprehend.}

                                _{Now, if anyone, or anything strikes you as familiar,}

                                 _{notify me immediately and we’ll talk it through.❞}

                                                _{Beneath his two finger touch, slid forth}

                                                _{the cardinal fatality, framed in white,}

                                                _{garbed in crimson.}

_{C r i m i n a l 𝔸𝕌.}

^「♟」 _{— Gratuitous childhood torment provided Spencer Reid with two paths to traverse. One of which to combat these forces of corruption and hatred – or to take it into his soul and make use of its power.}

_{When his father left the picture, the latter, without hesitation or thought, was immediately thrust to the forefront of his mind.}

                                _{make them p a y .}

_{Murder was not in his agenda, never had been. The robbing of a human life at his own hands was illogical, at its core – the human mind, particularly one so gifted as his, knew better than to bloody their hands. Well, his own.}

               _{Ring name TBA.}

_{Reid works behind the scenes. Mans the files, memorizes names: their fatal flaws and weaknesses. He takes the time to discover the most lethal toxin to inject into the insolent, or just how much blunt force was required to hold a rat before death.} 

_{He’s a crowd favorite in interrogations – hostage situations. He nary lay a hand on those kept in chains, but with the venom of his serrated tongue, gaze, and perception, very few can resist confession. Those who do manage cease to draw air.}

_{When Diane Turner requests their aid in the pursuit of a Maeve Donovan, matters are complicated. Spencer is sent to watch her, note possible mistakes, weaknesses – but all he can stomach is the way her smile glints when she’s afraid.}

_{They converse, in private, with counterfeit names, stories, and explanations. Never meeting, only falling in tune with the sound of the other’s voice.}

_{However, per contract, per destiny, and per request, she, and his dwindling sanity, perished.} 

_{With his mother’s instabilities haunting the darker corners of his subconscious mind, the execution of Maeve contorts his already malignant perception of reality.}

_{No one was an ally – no one was safe.}

               _{Especially not the FBI.}