reapertoire | KILL LOG; JACOPO

[ 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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