reapertoire | KILL LOG; JACOPO

[ this store is garbage and he hates it?

anyways, his original outfit isn't PARTICULARLY anime but he's still here for good measure. he picks out a particularly gaudy final fantasy-esque jacket and snarls. ]

Who the hell wears this garbage...

[Okay. Focus, Geiszler. It's showtime.

They've planned all of this out in excruciating detail. Newt knows the step by step process by heart, having gone over it a thousand and one times at Hermann's insistence. They even have contingency plans--the boltcutters, the double syringes--in case something goes wrong. And tonight will be the easy part. The trial is what Newt's really afraid of.

But it's different, walking into the shop and actually seeing Jacopo. He's just... fucking milling around like it's not well past curfew. He has to know, doesn't he? Shouldn't he care more?

What if he's not a Reaper? What if Newt got the clue wrong?

No, no. The clue was obvious. There's no way he's screwed this up. Just stick to the plan. He takes a breath. At least the nerves won't be manufactured.]

H-hey! What the hell are you doing here? [He stays near the door, like Jacopo's caught him by surprise and he wants to stay close to an exit.] It's... It's after curfew.

[He swallows. God, and now he's pulling all of his trust in Hermann. What a world.]

[Hermann is craftily hidden in a clothing rack near the back of the store. Maybe it isn't the best hiding place, but he figures he can just teleport to a new one if need be. All he has to do is stay within earshot and be ready for the signal.

He has his cane in one rubber-gloved hand, a loaded syringe in the other. His heart is pounding in his ears. He's been indirectly responsible for human loss before, in the form of deployed Jaeger pilots, but this is... very different. The only thing that keeps him steady is thinking of this as part of a larger machine. A larger machine designed to either get him home, or get a message back to the world he left behind.

If he doesn't do this, many more people will die.

Hermann freezes when he hears Newt shouting. There's no backing out now.]

[ jacopo raises a brow.

before tossing the jacket to the ground, shoulders rolling like he's...nothing more than an unpleasant customer you'd be forced to maneuver around during a Christmas sale.

he doesn't quite meet newt's gaze — instead he draws out his phone, eyes roving over its screen. ]

Yeah, it's rather late, isn't it?

[ there's a ghost of a smirk, suddenly. ]

You two don't happen to have plans, do you?

[Oh.

Newt drops what little act he was putting on and instead goes rigid. Shit. How did he...? This was not a contingency they had planned for.

Whatever, this doesn't change anything. Newt does his best thinking on the fly, anyway. So: Does Jacopo know where Hermann is? Not likely, no. They have Force Rounds to contend with, but it's two against one and Hermann can teleport.

Which, speaking of, he should get on that.]

Not for you. Guess this sort of mix-up must've been what caused that four-car pile up a couple weeks back, huh? [He raises a hand, electricity sparking along his fingertips. He's not yet aiming at Jacopo, but it's pretty obvious what he's getting at here.] What do you say we avoid that this time?

[Oh. Oh, this is not good. Jacopo already knows there are two of them here. Somehow, this wasn't something they anticipated. Stupid.

Hermann waits for a moment, listening, expecting Newt to say the signal word, but he doesn't. Should he stay where he is? What's the point? Jacopo already knows, and might even know where he's hiding. Newt's changing the script a bit, but it's a decent route to go as far as distractions are concerned. If nothing else, Hermann can't risk that Jacopo will fall for it and actually leave the store. Jacopo doesn't strike him as that stupid, but. Still.

He waffles for another few seconds, and then he goes for it. One instant he's still behind a bunch of sailor outfits and the next he's a step behind Jacopo's left shoulder. He lunges forward, swinging the syringe down, aiming for the side of the *alleged Reaper's neck.

*claims not substantiated yet icly]

[ he narrows his eyes. there's a blatant trace of offense in his expression, but he ends up doing little more than smirking, eyes flickering towards the jacket — and then back towards newt. ]

If you think you'd I'd be complicit in that barbaric excuse for an organized murder, you know much less than you think.

[ the electricity doesn't face him. the arm that swings down towards him?

yeah, well, that does.

there's a prick of mine — the substance's already starting to seep into his system, but it doesn't stop him from shooting in front of him on reflex (and hitting a rack or two in the process) and reaching for hermann's wrist. ]

Couldn't even do it while I was conscious, pigs?

[Newt is ready for those first shots at least, so he's able to duck out of the way before anything hits him. That's not going to be the case for long, though. He bolts straight for Jacopo, hoping Hermann's distraction will buy him enough time to get close before Jacopo fires off any more shots.

Once he's close enough, he grabs for Jacopo's hand. They have to get that ring off of him. Their only real weapon was the element of surprise, and that's gone now. Newt would vastly prefer to make it out of here without having to use his own psych... There's only two others that can wield electricity, after all.]

[Hermann gets grabbed because he does not have the sharpest reflexes in the universe, not even after a week of Dragon's Lair. He tries to extricate his hand from Jacopo's, ready and willing to whap him upside the head with his cane if need be.

At least the injection seems to have worked??? It's hard to celebrate when he's trying not to panic at the same time as stay upright.]

[ you'll have to catch him alive, coppers!

nah, just kidding. jacopo pushes back against hermann's grip, managing to overpower him for a moment — it's then that he twists, hard. a crack sounds. jacopo gnashes his teeth.

but the world dulls. he recognizes this feeling — it's mortifying, in a way, reminiscent of all the times he'd been poisoned. all the betrayals he'd endured. all of the heartbreak. the childish, lack of power, and weakness trickling into his body.

his eyes widen with shock. he thrashes around a bit erratically, like he's lost control of himself for a moment (it isn't the serum, surprisingly — it's just a man being wrecked by his own mind. ) but then he slows, and his vision blurs. ]

G..od...fucking...you...roaches!

[ ruh roh. well newt, you better quickstep because uh, it looks like he's about to beat your ass? ]

Hermann!

[Newt knows what that snap means. He knows he should ignore it, too. They need to get Jacopo restrained before they have time for anything else, but it's not like he has much experience with hand-to-hand combat. It's hard to keep from panicking. They're more than a little out of their depth here.

It takes him a moment to refocus, but he's managed to grab Jacopo's hand, somehow. Newt yanks him forward, hoping to both pull him away from Hermann and unbalance him long enough to pry the ring off of his finger. He hasn't registered that he's also in danger just yet.]

[Hermann hears the crack before he feels it, and then there it is, pain shooting up his arm while his hand goes pins-and-needles. He's pretty sure he makes a sound, but it might just be a gasp. He's not much of a yelper, so at least he doesn't embarrass himself.

That is, until he remembers he can fucking teleport. Which he does, immediately. Across the store now, he drops his cane as he stumbles back into the counter, holding his injured wrist. Unfortunately there isn't really anything he can do about it, and he's pretty used to sucking it up, so. Time to try and press on.

Newt is grappling with Jacopo's hand, probably trying to get the ring. Hermann glances around for the boltcutters, stumbling over to where they've been hidden in a pile of t-shirts with waifus on them. He grabs the tool in his right hand and sort of hobbles back over to the fray.]

Newt, here!

[ the liquid seeps into his stream. age old memories accompany it, vicious insults, knives grazing against his skin, eyes filled to the brim with rage on the face of a beloved friend. it paralyzes him for a split second — until an array of colors is in sight. they belong to that man, he's certain of it.

so he does all he can — he lunges, teeth bared, fists beating harshly against newt's torso. he thrashes, kicking, punching, in a flurry of wrath. jacopo reaches for his arm — and grips him, hands akin to an iron vise.

everything is red. he phases in out of reality, and to the past, and then back into reality —

and the reality is that he's lost.

so he slows. and now is when the advantage is theirs. the ring gleams, a testament to what he once was. what he stole, and what he became.

how pitiful, he thinks. ]

Edited 2018-04-06 04:38 (UTC)

[Jesus, they should've opted from a stronger dose of the sodium pentathol. They didn't want to overdo it and knock Jacopo out completely before they had a chance to question him, but shit, they're in trouble. He's stronger than Newt realized, even with the drug in his system.

Jacopo rushes him and he stumbles backward, abandoning his quest for the ring in favor of shielding himself, but he's not quick enough. It happens too fast for him to really register what's happening--there's fists coming at him, a knee connects with his stomach and knocks the wind out of him, and then Jacopo's got a hold on his arm. He tries to wrench away, but the grip is too strong. He's stuck.

But he feels Jacopo weaken slightly. Maybe it's the drug finally kicking in. Newt shoves him back, reclaims the grip on Jacopo's wrist with both hands now. He does what he can to hold him steady so Hermann can swoop in with the boltcutters... And to keep himself clear of any resulting bloodspatter. He's not sure he's strong enough to manage this, but maybe the drug kicking in will give him the advantage.]

Hermann, now!

[Hermann hurries when he sees Jacopo start laying into Newt. He'd teleport again but, without his cane, he's fairly certain he'd just unbalance himself and make things worse. So instead he just. Hustles.

By the time he reaches them, Jacopo seems to be slowing down. Hermann was hoping to hand the boltcutters off to Newt, but it looks like he's busy. So, uh, here we go.

He slides in from the side, uses his good hand to aim the cutters over Jacopo's fingers, and then uses his other forearm to help apply the pressure. Thankfully(? for him at least) these things were designed to help puny humans break through metal, so they won't have much difficulty with flesh and bone.

He just tries not to think about what he's doing too hard.]

[ it's a searing pain, followed by a draft. the cold air hits his flesh. his eyes flicker towards his hands — they're a mess of exposed meat and bone. it's red. everything is red.

on reflex, he tries to flex his fingers and is only met with pain.

jacopo laughs. ]

Hah...hahaha...ahahaha...! You think — you insolent...fucking rats! You think—

[ they're wrong. about what? about what, he asks himself. he desperately thrashes his legs forward, his head, his shoulders, much like a wildebeest, but the world has already begun to blur. that fury of his quiets into something that beats against his chest and cannot possibly escape.

he gnashes his teeth, hard, and focuses on the anger before it slurs into sorrow.

ask away, mateys. ]

[Jacopo plows into Newt again, and Newt grunts. God, their carefully-crafted plan should've better accounting for having to wrestle with this guy... They're so screwed if he out-muscles them, which probably would've been the case had Hermann messed up that injection. They are cutting this so, so close already...

He circles around to grab Jacopo from behind instead, trying to hold his arms down to prevent him from getting away. At least the sodium pentathol seems to be kicking in. He's not going to be strong enough to hold him for long.]

Get the—argh, get the belts, Hermann!

[Assuming Hermann pulls through on this, Newt will help him restrain Jacopo, binding his wrists and ankles and securing some belts around his midsection just to be safe.

Newt stays behind Jacopo to keep a grip on him just in case he tries anything, but he turns on his tape recorder and sets it a few feet away on the floor. Once that's ready to go, he gives Hermann a nod.]

Alright. We're live.

[Hermann does indeed pull through, exchanging the bloody boltcutters for a handful of belts, and then using his one good hand to help Newt tie Jacopo up. It's not as hard as it should be, now that his strength and his psych are both gone.

This very nearly went horribly awry, but it's back under control. It's fine, they're fine.

Hermann takes a moment to breathe- and to retrieve his cane- while Newt sets up the tape recorder. And now it's time for the main event.]

This is just to establish a baseline, as we're already reasonably certain of the answer. Jacopo: are you, or are you not, a Reaper?

[ it's nothing more than a blitz of fury and raging pain at first — slowly, the fire in him is smothered by a weight he can't fathom. the voices that register in his head are warped, and it's as though he's underwater for a good few minutes.

he grits his teeth. a relatively small pair of black wings sprout from his back. jacopo breathes hard — but ultimately the words... ]

What...do you...thi...nk...?

[ escape him. even now, they are laced with condescension. ]

[Well, that certainly startles Newt. He wheels away, tumbling backward in a panic.]

Jesus. So, what, all you guys have wings or something?

[But, give him a second. He rights himself, kneeling next to Jacopo to resume the grip on his shoulder. Judging from Jacopo's dazed response, they need to cut to the chase here, not to mention drawing this out wouldn't be smart. He swallows.]

Right, um. Tell us about the other Reapers. How many are left, and who are they?

[Hermann takes a couple of hasty steps back as well, worried that the appearance of the wings means Jacopo is gaining a second wind. But then he settles a bit. Phew.

Newt's right though, they need to move this along. He'll stick with the current question so as not to confuse him, though.]

Give us as many names as you can.

[ jacopo smirks, wings flitting the slightest bit. callously, he spits. ]

Ranpo...Junko...Dahlia...Terra...

[ and then he leans his head back, clearly contented with his own answer. ]

He...already told you how many are left...count, morons....

[Newt rolls his eyes. Great.]

We already knew about them. What about the rest?

[Or Hermann could ask a more useful question.]

[Yeah, time to move this along. Hermann doesn't think Jacopo's going to give up any Reapers they haven't already found.]

The Composer, then. Do you know who it is?

[ jacopo groans. ]

Yes.

[ his eyes slowly rove to the side. ]

We baked cookies together...

[ it's

a truth serum, alright. ]

Prefers...them dough-like...

[...Well. It's unexpected, but...]

When? And where?

[aight so the pacrims are now interrogating a man about baking cookies and they will eventually kill him for this information.

sure.]

[Christ. Hermann hates that this is a viable line of questioning. But it... is, so he's going to allow it.]

Was anyone else with you?

[Did you see Goody Proctor baking cookies with the Composer??? Give us the names of the other ~~witches~~ Reapers.]

[ god this is really happening. ]

In — in the city, obviously...!

[ how can one be exasperated with their own interrogation. ]

A...few others... [ and he bites down, harshly in an attempt to stop himself. ]

[Ugh. This isn't working, either. Time to spin things slightly.]

Okay, fine, so you and the Composer, you're buds. Great. What does the Composer want out of this, and what's in it for you by following along?

[Hermann doubts they're going to get anything more about the Composer. Maybe Jacopo is bound in the same way as Max. Or maybe the truth serum is just... being wonky because this isn't a spy movie.]

And in what capacity are you following along? Are you here to kill players, or other Reapers?

[ he inhales...well, irritably. ]

Tch. Hell if I know...a good show, probably...

[ he rolls his neck, brows furrowing. ]

Fuck's sake, I haven't killed anyone here! We haven't!

[That... is alarming. Newt repositions himself so that he can get a better look at Jacopo's face as he speaks.]

What do you mean? [...] You're in the group of Reapers here to kill other Reapers, then. That still makes you a Reaper. And maybe you didn't pull the trigger yourself, but you got Junko killed.

Yes, turned on one of your own, as it were. You were instrumental in her conviction, and thus in the death of Noctis as well.

[This group of Reapers has the same goal that he does, but he doesn't feel much sympathy. Innocent people still get caught in their crossfire, which is something he's still in a position to judge.]

According to our host, there's no difference between you and the other Reapers, as far as we're concerned. Do you know if there's any truth to that?

She wasn't my goddamn ally, that's why! There — is a difference between us.

[ he gnashes his teeth hard again, but inevitably hisses it out. ]

It's...in our purposes.

Right, whatever. Again, you're still a Reaper. [It's... more Newt reminding himself of this, at this point.]

So what's in this for you? What do you get if your group wins the game?

Your purposes.

[Hmm.]

What is your purpose? Simply to kill the other group of Reapers, or is there something else?

KILL LOG; JACOPO

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