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  • Topics

  • Posts

    • SneezyDude-5
      Yeah maybe we all probably do it. It might just be something that happens when you join.
    • SpookyScarySkeleton
      28:54 Dan sneezes and tries to talk through it . Adorable as always. They really are catering to everyone today.  
    • justaquirkygirl
      Thank you! Thank you so much! I love Daredevil so much. And he’s just so easy to torture.    and now I need to decide if this should keep going. I mean, Maggie didn’t exactly isolate like she intended. 😈
    • bornandgrown
      “I don’t think anyone’s touched these files in years,” Detective Langstrom comments, wrinkling her nose at the thick layer of dust on top of them. Still, she pulls the box out of the precinct’s archives closet and hands it over to Morgan. “Here you go. If there’s anything else you need, just tell us.” “Of course,” Morgan promises, taking the box from her and easily handling it. She wasn’t kidding about the age of the files; none of them look like they’ve seen the light of day in at least a couple of decades. However, the lack of exposure has left the ink dark, meaning they won’t have an issue reading it. Small mercies. He makes his way back to the room where they’ve set themselves up, setting the box down on the table behind Reid and beginning to take out the files. Whereas the younger continues writing on the board, mumbling to himself under his breath, JJ looks up at his entrance. “Are those the files?” she asks, side-eyeing the box. “Yep,” Morgan says, plopping the first stack on the table. A literal cloud of dust rises up from the action, and he coughs as it wafts further upwards and into his face. “Damn,” he chokes, doing his best to wave it away. JJ moves to stand next to him, assisting in taking the stacks out. “You would think that they’d at least go through their files every once in a while, make sure everything’s still in order. Better yet, type these up and transfer them to their database,” she comments, setting the next one down more gently. Dust still spills across the table, though, and she sighs. “Let me open a window before we take the rest of these out.” She brushes by Reid on her way to the window, who finally looks up and registers what they’re doing, his nose crinkling immediately. “Are these the files?” he questions, repeating JJ’s earlier inquiry almost word-for-word. “That they are,” JJ tells him, unlocking the window as she speaks. “You want to get in on this? I’m sure reading them will go a lot faster with you.” “I’m still working on the geographical profile,” Reid points out, accentuating the statement with a marker aimed at the map he has up. “Hey, did you know that there’s a common misconception that dust is made of dead skin cells? It’s actually not true; most dust in homes is comprised of about thirty percent dead skin cells, but the majority of it is actually just what you’d expect. Dirt makes up a large part of it, as well as pollen. In fact, most people who have allergies to both pollen and dust find that the real cause of the dust allergy is actually from the pollen in the dust.” “Aren’t you allergic to pollen?” Morgan asks, brow furrowing. Reid goes completely still for a second, his face going blank before he nods. “Yes,” he says, careful with the way he says it, clearly trying to pass it off as something casual even though Morgan knows it’s anything but. He’s seen the kid in the summer and fall, before his allergy meds have kicked in, and is painfully aware of how bad it can get. JJ glances at him with concern clear in her gaze. “Do you need us to go to a different room while we’re doing this?” He waves her offer off, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine as long as the window’s open. And as long as I’m not working with the files directly.” “…Alright,” Morgan says, skeptical, “but if it starts getting to you, take a walk. We don’t need to have you out of commission on this case.” He nods, turning back to the board as JJ rejoins Morgan’s side, taking out the next stack of files. In all, there’s five of them, organized by each suspected victim of their unsub from twelve years ago. It’s essential they go through each of them and compare the different victimology to determine whether or not this is the same killer. The three of them work in near silence for a time, with Morgan and JJ each taking a stack of files and reading through them, marking down significant details before they move onto the next. Reid, meanwhile, continues his work on the geographical profile, highlighting both the locations of the current and previous victims in different colors, trying to determine if the unsub is operating out of the same area as before. They’re only interrupted by the not-quite-silent stifles Reid keeps succumbing to, his fits slowly getting closer together and more intense as the hour wears on. Still, the kid is stubborn as all hell and refuses to leave the room for just a second, even after a string of eight— no, nine, Jesus Christ —sneezes has him gasping for breath. “Bless you,” JJ murmurs, not bothering to hide the naked concern displayed in her expression. “Are you sure you’re okay, Spence?” “I’mb fide,” he insists, voice thickly laden with congestion. Morgan hands him a tissue box, waiting for him to blow his pinkening nose before he continues speaking. “What do you guys have on victimology?” “So,” Morgan starts, looking down at his notes, “as far as I can tell, the victimology matches. The age of the victims has barely wavered; this unsub’s sticking to the exact same pattern.” JJ nods along to his assessment, eyes cast downwards at her own notepad and files to check that they’re on the same page. “His obsession with these men is very specific, like he’s playing out a fantasy and needs it to be exactly right, whether it’s repeated or he’s been unable to achieve it yet. Reid?” “Geographical profile says that he’s sticking to a similar area, but it’s not quite the same as it was in 2000,” he explains, hands gesturing and emphasizing his points as he does so. “It’s likely that the unsub had to change… hh-hang on.” Reid turns away from the evidence board and towards Morgan and JJ, allowing them full view of his allergic misery as he buries a soft flurry of sneezes in his shoulder, sniffling for a few second after. “Ugh. Sorry. As I was saying, it’s likely that the unsub was forced by some external factor to change his address, though I’m still not certain why. The most troubling thing is the actual length of the break between the murders; I can’t figure out why he’d stop unless he was convicted of something and had to do time in jail.” Morgan’s already standing before he’s finished talking, preparing to remove the kid by force if he needs to. “Good work, Reid, now get out of the room. JJ and I can handle the call to Hotch while you go get some air you aren’t allergic to.” He nods, the easy surrender a better gauge of how he’s feeling than anything else he’ll say, and grabs his messenger bag. “Can you come and get me once you’re done talking to Hotch?” “We’ll see,” Morgan tells him, then points at the door. “But for now, out.” “Alright, I’m going,” Reid says, stepping past the table they’ve been working at. As he does so, another sneezing fit takes a hold of him, not ending until allergic tears are pricking at the corners of his eyes. At Morgan’s raised eyebrow, he insists, “I’mb goigg!” JJ watches his back as he retreats from the room, shaking her head with a disbelieving laugh. “You know, for a genius, he acts really dumb sometimes.” “Don’t I know it,” Morgan says, opening his phone and dialing Hotch’s number, shifting it so that it’s trapped between his shoulder and ear as he starts putting files back in the box. “Hotchner. What have you got, Morgan?”
    • hanahiru
      this video honestly sounds like something that could have been written on here, specifically it reminds me of Tales From The Golden Town.
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