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jemej3m · 4 years

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losing your wedding ring and other hostage situation things

im having way too much fun, you will have to pry this au from my cold, dead hands

two birds, one stone, lets GO

(tw for: violence, hostage situations, mention of recreational drugs, a bit of swearing, neil being a mouthy ass mf, mild stabbings)

Andrew had been having such a good day.

Those were rare to come by: some form of disaster usually appeared, if not by mid-morning, then by lunch. A perp that was too handsy; an elderly woman shouting tireless angst at Andrew over not being able to find her precious, street-rat looking cat; a stack of overdue paperwork from the nightshift fuckers who were the worst people to exist ever.

No: instead, Neil had woken him up with a tray of hot coffee, chocolate croissants and strawberries for their anniversary celebration (not that either of them had mentioned it), kissed the crumbs away from the corner of his mouth and lead Andrew into the shower with that damned smile of his.

He’d driven Andrew to work (something about Allison holding down the fort), which meant Andrew didn’t have to commute and deal with the general public, or figure out where to park for half an hour. It was coming dangerously close to their rule of ‘don’t talk about work’, but Andrew couldn’t complain when Kevin had been too busy to scrutinise him upon entry to the bullpen.

He and Renee had cracked a decent case, a burly dealer with a ‘Nittany Lions’ emblem tattooed across her collarbone had been shut away for being the primary distributor of a lethal strain of methamphetamine, and there hadn’t been a queue in his favourite subway corner store at lunch time.

Wymack had stuck his head out of his office at about half-past two, with a quirk to his eyebrows. “They’re requesting backup at a shootout situation, up north. Change out.”

Andrew, who had just been getting slightly bored signing neighbourly complain forms, took this in his stride. Renee smiled at him as they left, always knowing more than Andrew ever let on. He hated being known at first, but years with Neil had tempered that discomfort, and having someone who knew what he needed when he couldn’t express it wasn’t half bad.

He cut over Kevin’s music in the patrol car and let the windows down, siren tolling. There were no deaths on the scene as of yet - and Andrew had a feeling there would be none.

It seemed as though there was where his good luck had run out for the day.

Upon exiting the car, protocols had been adhered to, blocks were canvassed, civilians were removed, and Andrew found himself squatting behind a crumbling brick wall, Dan and Matt ahead of him, Kevin and Renee behind him.

Dan looked around the doorway, signalled clear, and so they skirted into the small courtyard. The house in question had been the location for the shooting: how Andrew and the rest of his team had found themselves in the infiltration force was another issue entirely.

“Sargeant, everything’s gone quiet, what’s happening?” Wymack demanded.

“House is looking clear -” a distinct thud and Dan’s disgruntled “Oof!” had Andrew drawing out his gun once more.

“Guns down,” came a strained voice, stepping out from behind the door with a gun held to Dan’s head. He had a ski-mask on. “Everyone put your guns down, or she dies.”

For fuck’s sake, Andrew thought, slowly crouching down and putting up his hands. Matt’s entire body was shaking, but he followed suit, Kevin and Renee copying him.

Three men appeared: one grabbed Matt, another grabbed Kevin, whilst a third went for both Renee and Andrew. The glint in Renee��s eyes said it well enough: it wouldn’t do these fuckers well to underestimate either of them.

But Dan still had a gun to her head, and Andrew was in no business of letting decent people die because he didn’t play along, so he let himself be shuffled into the basement of the house: there, he was shoved against one of the old, wooden pillars and tied up, hands behind his back. The rope burned against his skin.

“Body in the corner,” Renee whispered, nudging his foot with hers. “Stripped, two bullet holes in the head. Look, you can see the Butcher cross on the back of their hand. It has to be a Bearcat.”

Andrew stared at the Butcher’s mark. His husband’s father had once liked to mark his loyalists with two gashes on the back of their hand, often with his favourite cleaver. Neil said he’d left similar marks across his father’s eyes when he’d finally brought him to his knees. The corpse in the corner had to be an older member of the Wesninski gang: Neil had changed a lot of things since inheriting his father’s syndicate.

Gang violence was never great, nor simple, but perhaps a man who was loyal to Nathan Wesninski was better off dead.

“Quiet!” one of the men barked, kicking Renee in the side of her head. Andrew grit his teeth as her head whipped back against the wall.

“Search ‘em,” the other said, crouching by Dan. Identification, a spare twenty, her gun and taser and baton were all removed. When she tried to head-but him, he decided to gag her and tie said gag to the beam she was shoved against. He checked her hand for an engagement or wedding ring, of which neither Dan nor Matt ever wore during their shifts. Matt, Kevin and Renee went through the same thing, radios and guns and spare cash filched from their pockets.

Then it was Andrew’s turn. He coiled up as soon as hands were on him, gritting his teeth. He hated sitting like a victim. He hated waiting around to be rescued. He would be able to cut through this rope somehow if he was just given a minute, but instead he was enduring hands across his arms and shoulders and back, down his legs. They didn’t find the knife in his boot - something he’d copied from Neil - but one of their fingers did catch on the silver chain around his throat.

His eyes closed as they pulled it out.

“Ha,” the crook sneered, snapping the silver chain and holding up Andrew’s wedding band. “Who’s the lucky girl? Doesn’t matter, I s’pose, if you never see her again.”

“You’re married? Since when!” Kevin remarked, and got a knee in the ribs for good measure.

Andrew watched the man pocket his wedding ring and sighed. He’d have a hell of a lot of explaining to do to Neil when he got home. Hopefully his husband wouldn’t go out on a spree for vengeance just to get the ring back. Worse would be if he decided to go teaching everyone not to touch his family.

For a few moments, the men left them alone, stomping around the house and yelling for good measure. They’d taken Dan’s radio to lay down their terms: they were no doubt in the midst of negotiation.

“I went to the ceremony,” Renee offered in the strained silence. “It was very sweet.”

“Shut up, Renee.” Andrew muttered.

“It’s their anniversary, today,” she added.

He glared at her. “I hate you.”

“What a way to spend it,” Matt murmured, looking to Dan, who was still gagged. He looked back to Andrew. “We’ll make sure you get back home to your...partner?”

“Husband.” Andrew confirmed, then mentally cursed himself for giving away such needless information whilst in a dusty basement, held hostage by some randoms who had already murdered one member of said husband’s gang. Instead, he shuffled his feet around to Renee.

“I’ve got a knife,” he said, like she didn’t already know. He just didn’t want the others to see Renee trying to take off his shoe with her teeth when he’d just mentioned that he has a husband. She nodded, leaning down to pull at his laces, then tugging off his shoe with her knees. The knife skidded out: she kicked it back to Andrew, who flicked it into his hands. She shuffled around so that her ropes were accessible to him, and he got to work sawing.

It only lasted thirty seconds before the men thundered back down stairs: Renee sat on the knife after Andrew dropped it to the floor.

“They need a little more motivation,” the burliest one sneered, stomping over to Dan. “How about you, sarge?”

“You’re making a mistake,” Renee said, calmly. “I’m sure that if everyone walked free right now, we’d be able to figure something out. It doesn’t have to end badly.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he snapped. “God, you’re annoying, aren’t you? Not everything’s so simple, pig.”

“No,” a new voice agreed. “It’s not. But you could’ve at least cleaned this place up a bit before you made such a scene.”

“What the fuck,” the ringleader managed, just as two men dropped to their knees, hands to their stomachs. Two new figures stepped into the basement, dressed similarly. Both wore black jeans and sweaters, though one was a hood tugged firmly over their head, a bandana over their nose and mouth, whilst the other wore a ski-mask with a singular window for the eyes, long hair tucked up into a twist under the wool.

The shorter figure’s blue eyes sought Andrew out immediately: he gave the man a quick nod. I’m alright.

Those eyes burned like the ninth circle of hell. Instantly, Andrew knew he was safe.

“The fuck is this?” the man said, just as another knife buried itself into the chest cavity of his third ally. “Hold on, hold on - are you repping Wesninski? How the fuck did you get here -?”

“Learn your place, Gorilla,” the shorter one said, spinning a knife around on his fingers. His counterpart - and if Andrew didn’t know it was Allison, he would’ve still been able to tell she was a woman - busied herself tying up the other three that were moaning on the floor. Gloved hands, double layered but still deft. Andrew grabbed the knife that was under Renee and kept sawing at her closures.

“You don’t mess with a Wesninski, nor his people.” the knife was slowly raised to ‘Gorilla’s chin, just as gloved fingers reached into the crook’s pocket and drew out a small, silver band. “Too predictable with your trophies, Hawking. Dumped again?”

The man - who was more than a foot taller than their savior and definitely double the width - roared with fury, raising up his hands. He was too late, his body slumping with a pinch to the back of his neck.

The woman looked over to the corner, where the body was dumped, and sighed. “You weren’t the worst, Richie.”

“Definitely bad timing, A.” the man said, hopping over the unconscious body of his rival to lean over Andrew: the others looked on with intrigue as the mysterious man slipped Andrew’s wedding ring into his front pocket.

“Go,” Andrew muttered from out the corner of his mouth. Only Renee would be able to hear. “We’ll be fine.”

“Love you,” Neil whispered back. Not a moment later, he was gone.

“We’re we just saved by a Wesninski gang member?” Kevin wondered aloud.

Not just any gang member, Andrew thought. Kevin would shit himself if he knew who was under that mask.

“Stranger things have happened,” Matt said, though he was unsure. At that point, Andrew had cut Renee’s ropes free, and she set to work unbinding them all.

Wymack was the first into the basement, fury scrawled across his scraggly brows. “Is everyone - Christ.” He looked to the four men on the floor: three stabbed and bound, still alive and writhing in pain, and one unconscious, jaw at a bad angle from where he’d fallen over. “Do I even want to know what happened?”

“I don’t think you’d believe us if we told you, sir,” Renee said, sweetly, as she cut Dan’s gag free and helped her off the floor.

Wymack simply rubbed at his temple with one hand, the other reaching for his radio. “Four stretchers. All threats have been disengaged. Stand down: everyone is safe.”

Andrew felt his phone buzz as he was stood behind his desk, packing things into his bag to head home. Hostage situation aside, it’d still been a good day.

Home now - got more ice cream and borrowed Bridget Jones’ Diary from Ally’s collection

I hate you, Andrew texted back. Heading home now - i can detour and get Joe’s thai

no, Neil said immediately. i’ve already got food being delivered. need to see u home and safe.

Andrew felt something warm in his chest. I’ll be there soon.

He tucked his phone into his bag, and brought out the ring that he’d kept tucked into the pocket of his pants all day, seeing as the chain had been broken. Carefully, he slid it onto his finger. It still fit, though he wasn’t sure why he’d thought that it wouldn’t.

Across the room, Matt smiled, nudging Renee and gesturing to where Andrew had put on his wedding ring and was almost ready to leave. “The Monster has a husband.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Dan agreed, sidling up to the pair.

You barely know the half of it, Renee thought, watching her partner amble out of the bullpen, a fondness in her smile.

wow. SOFT.

#andreil #mobster/cop au #butcher!neil #cop!andrew #neil josten #andrew minyard #i cannot believe i have written such a soft hostage situation #wow #all for the game #aftg #mobster neil #policeman andrew #jem writes

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tessatechaitea · 4 years

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Cerebus #2 (1978)

Is this the one where Cerebus becomes so obsessed with feeding coins into this devil thing to receive slips of paper with his future on them that he becomes unable to make any decisions at all?

Deni's essay on the inside cover of Issue #2 mostly just points out that comic books are weird and dumb and the fans are huge nerds. She ends it saying, "Comics is a crazy business, but you know something? I wouldn't want to be anyplace else. That is if I had a choice." Six years later, her choice was to get the fuck out of her marriage with Dave Sim. Although she still published comics at her new company Renegade Press. I'm not sure what she did after she closed up shop on that sometime around 1989, I think. Maybe she realized she did have a choice and somehow got the fuck away from comic books. I am not frantically trying to find her phone number on the Internet right now asking her how she did it. I'm too busy re-reading all of my old comic books, most of which I didn't even like the first time. Dave Sim's essay about Cerebus #2 printed in the Swords of Cerebus compilation is a bloodcurdling breath of honesty. Unless I meant refreshing? Is refreshing or bloodcurdling the description used to entice people to buy gum?

You should probably figure out how to enlarge this on whatever crutch of a device you're reading this on so that you can read it because it's entertaining.

As a reader, you instinctively realize that most artists hate drawing the boring stuff in the background. Those that fill the scene in with lots of nice little details are probably a joy to work with but they're also probably insane when you realize the deadlines they're under and they can't help drawing a fiddly little tea service on an antique hutch next to a couple of exotic potted plants. You know, things that will probably need to be drawn repeatedly across several panels from different angles! But what I hadn't really thought about was how the writer part of Dave Sim was initially so lazy about writing humorous stories and dialogue. When I think of Cerebus, it's the funny moments and hilarious character interactions which I think of first. Or maybe second. The first thing I think of is Sandman Roach sucking himself off with his weird Sandman mask. I guess the main thing I learned from Sim's introduction is that I'm not going to be reading a funny issue now. Not that the first issue was terribly funny. It was much like Sim writes in this one, really. The comedy comes across in the first few pages as the readers yuck it up over a tough aardvark chopping off hands and threatening bartenders (the bartender's line where he changes up his "I won't serve you. You're a...guest! And I serve guests at their table" was probably the best line of the first issue). The rest is so solidly Conan invading a wizard's tower that you're not expecting any jokes. Although Sim tries to lighten the mood by making the wizard a bit of a bumbling, aging middle-management type who just seems tired of having his work space invaded by thieves. The narrator opens this issue describing some of Cerebus's travels since the end of the last issue. In that blurb, we get the first hints of the geography of Estarcion.

At some point, we'll get a map. But it won't matter much since most of issues 26-110 or so take place in the city-state of Iest (hell, maybe 90% of Cerebus takes place in Iest up until Guys).

Do we ever find out any more about the Blood Wars? I don't think so. Remember, a lot of the early issues are setting a sword and sorcery mood. Sim will revisit some of the characters and places in these first 25 issues but only sparingly and usually in new contexts, thus making the overall story seem more layered and fully fleshed out than it initially was.

The first issue set the mood with Cerebus bouncing around on the back of a horse as he pulled into town; this one sets a slightly different tone.

Notice how Cerebus has two swords in this picture? I think Dave remembers that at some point in the future and comments (either through The Judge or through Sim's guest appearance itself) on how Cerebus losing one messes up his future or something. It's also possible I'm remembering that wrong! But I'm pretty sure we get a short history of Cerebus's accessories and their import (his helmet, the necklace, his swords). Cerebus is captured by the Boreleans who decide to sell him to a freak show in Gurann. I don't know where Gurann is. I also don't know where Borelea is. Or Tansubal. Or Estarcion. In response to the Chieftain's plans, Cerebus curses him in Paranian. I also don't know where Parania is. Cerebus's curse is "Comne ye tama stet fegria!" It translates roughly to "You can shove the freak show up your asshole." What I'm saying is that we all now sort of know the Paranian word for asshole. It's probably "fegria." Doing a Google search of the word "fegria" and "cerebus" resulted in a blog from 2017 which planned to do a critical review of every issue of Cerebus. It made it three issues. But in glancing over the blog, I noticed a quote that was footnoted as being by Tim Kreider in an essay from The Comic Journal #301. I fucking love Tim Kreider and now I need to get my hands on that issue. Anybody have a copy they want to send me?! Before Dave Sim gets to the part of the story without any jokes, he makes this classic joke when Cerebus battles to prove himself worthy of joining the Boreleans.

Ha ha! Look at how funny the little aardvark guy looks!

Two issues in and we already see how Dave is using the fantasy setting to satire real life. Previously, he showed how easily the powerful, entrenched wizard was defeated because he was just a blowhard hiding behind illusions which made him seem more powerful than he really was. Here, we see a couple of guys quickly reworking sacred traditions on the fly to cater to their current needs. Maybe they're just jokes but they tell the story of who this young Dave Sim probably was: an atheist with a mistrust of authority, status quo, and almost certainly mainstream comic book publishers. Just wait until that young Dave Sim suddenly isn't atheist any more and has decided he's the authority of everything! Boy do those issues suck dog turds that were turded out of dogs who sucked on dog turds. I'm specifically thinking about the Latter Days explication of Genesis as a story about a lying female god's power struggle with the real, upright male God. At least I think that's what was happening. I might have slept through 85% of time I was reading it. Cerebus wins the knife fight with an unorthodox yet apparently known well enough to be dreaded Earth Pig move.

So dreaded that I don't think Cerebus ever uses it again. Granted, his snout gets much shorter and less effective as the series goes on.

I'm sorry I scanned that panel because the really good joke comes immediately on the next page where the Chieftain is all, "You're from the South so you probably have a moral code against killing an unarmed combatant which means sacred tradition will..." at which point he's interrupted by Cerebus stabbing Klog in the face. Cerebus's moral and ethical code are pretty animalistic. Probably because he's an animal? Although you can't argue with some of his wisdom when he becomes Pope. I mean, "One less mouth to feed is one less mouth to feed," is some thoughtful shit, especially after you've just thrown a baby fifty yards. Cerebus spends two days marching with the Boreleans before the army is overrun by an army of ensorcelled men. Cerebus understands magic enough to completely mistrust it so instead of fighting, he slides down a snowy cliff to escape. That was the part of the story where Dave Sim's writing persona was all, "I can't be funny any more. Let's put Cerebus in a hole where he has to deal with something serious." So now it's basically a new story. If I remember the Conan books I read when I was younger, the narrative structure isn't too far off from those. The books just seemed like a bunch of scenes that didn't really have any plot thread connecting them. Probably because they were just a bunch of short stories from pulp magazines shoved together in book form. What? You expect me to actually do research on a memory from my past instead of just speculating?! How not lazy do you think I am?! As Cerebus wanders the dark caves under the ice, he remembers an old legend about The Eye of Terim guarded by the Demon Khem lying underground in Borelea. Could this be the place?! Could he be walking into deadly danger? Or extravagant riches?! Did Dave Sim forget that Tarim was spelled with an "a" which birthed Terim later because he wouldn't admit to a mistake? Did this duality of Tarim and Terim cause him to believe the religions of The People of the Book were infected with the same duality? And when did he decide the split was down gender lines?! That last question was a rhetorical question but also one that can be answered: he made that decision when he was interviewing mothers and daughters for his story "Mothers & Daughters." At that time, he realized women he didn't want to fuck were vapid and uninteresting. His conclusion was that this was an issue with women and not an issue of self. I guess his reasoning was "I don't want to fuck men but I find them interesting therefore women must not be interesting!" Don't worry! According to Dave, that's not a sexist conclusion. It's a completely rational one because he's a man and he came to it.

Cerebus climbing down a pillar of faces, descending deep into the Earth. Later, he'll do the exact opposite. I don't mean to suggest it means anything! It's just a nice callforward!

This is only the second issue and Dave is already using the comic medium for all its worth. The pillar remains static so he's able to split the image into panels which then allocate separate time intervals. You can tell he's a long time fan of comics. We learn that the Eye of Terim is the "most precious of the five spheres of the Gods." So now we know there are five spheres of the Gods. What are they for? Where are they? Will Cerebus pursue more of them? Or will he just be told about them later when he goes into outer space? Probably that last one. Cerebus does utter an oath to Tarim so Dave probably finally remembered how he originally spelled it but only after inking the previous pages. Remember the essay from last issue that you didn't read? He described his process of fully completing each page before moving on to the next one. So now he's got a problem! The better solution would probably be to fix the previous errors. But that's a solution that takes more work. An easier solution is to suddenly decide that there are two confusing Gods with pretty much the same name only they're pronounced differently. How are they pronounced? I don't fucking know. Comic books aren't audio! Look, I'm a cynical dick! It's entirely possible that Dave Sim had already decided that Terim was the name of God in the North and Tarim was the name of God in the South and that was what caused so much strife. I could give Dave the benefit of the doubt on this. I suppose I will although it's less fun to believe Dave knew what he was doing than to pretend he's made tons of stupid mistakes.

It turns out the Eye of Terim was actually a succubus trying to trap prey.

Maybe Dave Sim is a genius who, from Issue #2, was already working toward his "Mothers & Daughters" themes and his Tangent essay! Here we see a woman lying in wait to steal Cerebus's soul and tempt him from his righteous path of reason! I'd say this is technically the first female character in Cerebus and it's kind of ideologically on point with the rest of the series! Also, we learn aardvarks don't have souls. I think that's the really important bit. I can't leave this bit yet! Look at how the encounter is worded: "For the first time in centuries a prey has broken the succubus' spell -- has seen it in its original form." It's as if Dave is saying, "See? I'm the first guy to have noticed that these hot women aren't just hot women! They're traps! I mean Cerebus was the first to see it!" And as the succubus becomes unable to destroy Cerebus's mind and reason and rationality, it becomes desperate. It becomes emotional! It screams and rants and raves! Wow. I didn't think I'd have to deal with Dave Sim's philosophy about the Marxist/feminist/homosexual axis for at least another hundred and fifty issues! Maybe I should just pretend I'm reading too deeply into what's basically a Dungeons & Dragons encounter. Cerebus tumbles in the dark and awakens lying in the snow next to the Eye of Terim, now just a plain iron sphere. He notices he's amid the dead of the battle and realizes the ensorcelled men were victims of the succubus who have now been freed. I guess the succubus died when it tried to suck the soul of a soulless creature*. *Necromancer's Compendium. Page 63. Maybe this story was how Dave Sim eventually saw his magnum opus: he was Cerebus trying to free the minds of all the other men who were ensorcelled by women! You might not agree with his message but if he had it since Issue #2 and continued on to Issue #300, you can probably maybe say at least one small, positive word about his sticktoitiveness. That's a hard word to spell. I'm going to write and draw three hundred issues of a comic book about how difficult it was to spell that and then the trauma of knowing it was spelled right but Spellcheck insisting that it's not. I'm reading the bi-weekly version of Issue #2 so along with the Aardvark Comment letters page is this note from Dave:

So even when he was an atheist, he had the guilt of a religious person.

In one of Dave Sim's fake letters, he brings up how the plot of Issue #1 was quite similar to Robert E. Howard's Conan story, "Tower of the Elephant." So Dave Sim uses a fake name to call himself out on borrowing bits of a previous story? He also answers the accusation by saying, "Yeah, I read it a long time ago so I guess some of that stuff stuck in my head." I guess this is something Dave and I have in common: we often have lengthy conversations with pretend people about our flaws. Dave also asks himself why Cerebus always swears by Clovis. Apparently that was the pen name of his wife Deni's brother. Mystery solved! Hopefully in a future letter, Dave will explain why he has Terim and Tarim! Cerebus #2 Rating: B. Another solid B in that the art is still that of a somewhat better than amateur artist and the writing is consistent enough to be memorable in places and not Ann Nocenti confusing in all the others. Grade B praise indeed! My main feeling when rereading the early Cerebus stories from the first 25 issues is that I'm eagerly anticipating "High Society" and the introduction of The Regency Elf. I also look forward to the day Gerhard arrives and the backgrounds become gorgeous works of almost certainly intense labor.

#Cerebus #Dave Sim

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