Ais's Blog - Posts Tagged "convergence"
Convergence, the ICoS!verse story that died
I'm a little sad about a story I stopped awhile ago. Little known fact(?), around the time Sonny started writing After Midnight I actually had an idea for a story set in the ICoS universe too.
It was called Convergence. The two main characters are a cop (male) and a journalist (female).
There are a few reasons I didn't get very far into it but one of the biggest reasons was I highly doubt it would end up with any slash in it (I don't foresee any relationships at all) and I didn't think anyone would read it because of that. So after writing a few different scenes to test it out I pretty much gave up on the whole thing. I knew it would only discourage me to release it and have no one care about it, and I didn't care enough about it to keep writing it only for myself.
So it died.
But I randomly remembered it today and decided to pull it up and skim some parts of it. The story is basically about a journalist at a rag who doesn't always believe conspiracy theories are just theories (Genna, mentioned briefly in a side story) and a Sgt who specializes in gangs in Lexington PD (Vincente, name would be changed). While being her typically nosy self, Genna starts looking down paths that may be better left untouched, and may end up bringing Vincente along for the ride.
I have no idea if I'll ever end up writing more in it or not but since I had it up anyway I figured, what the hell. I should probably talk about ICoS-related things on this blog at some point and this is something I don't need to worry about spoilers for.
---
Here's an excerpt just because:
"Sgt. Salerno," Genna said, perking up as soon as she saw him.
She stood up from the crappy plastic chair next to a table that was otherwise never used. Vincente often wondered where the city got the furniture they provided. Sometimes he thought it must have come straight from a thrift store and that, usually, it should return there.
"What do you want?" he asked bluntly, not bothering with pleasantries.
"Access to the non-public on this case--" Genna said immediately, holding up her palm panel with an 8-digit case control number on the screen.
"Not gonna happen," Vincente cut her off flatly. "Talk to the PIO."
Genna made a face and dropped the palm panel to her side. "Costes won't give me shit. You know that."
"Tough luck."
Vincente turned and started to head back toward the secure door. Genna snatched a hand out, catching Vincente by the shirt sleeve.
"That could be considered assault on a peace officer," Vincente commented and Genna snorted.
"Remind me to apologize to the wrinkles on your shirt later. You didn't think I'd let you go that easily, did you?"
Vincente looked over his shoulder at her with narrowed eyes. "Did you miss the part where I can tell you to pack sand since all media requests go through the PIO?"
"This isn't a media request," she insisted.
He scowled. "It isn't my job to cater to looky-loos."
"It kind of is," Genna said with an amused quirk of her lips.
Vincente turned his back on her and strode toward the secure door, muttering under his breath. "Christ's sake. I'll deal with you later."
"What's that?" Genna said loudly as the door to the lobby opened and a man walked in. "Did you just threaten me with your taser?"
"What?" Vincente demanded, irritation climbing into the realm of outright aggravation, and turned around to see Genna staring at him intently.
"Now what was that website again for IA complaints..? Oh, no matter. I know the form's right over there..."
The man tried to subtly peer around the corner of the main desk to watch them. His subtlety was called into question even further when he pulled out his phone and stared down at the screen but then held it tilted awkwardly away from him.
"Hey," Vincente barked, causing the man to jump and look up with wide eyes. "Nothing to see here. And next time, pretend you're on the damn phone. Only a moron wouldn't be able to tell you're recording right now. You'll get yourself killed if you try to pull that shit on the street."
The man immediately fumbled with the phone and threw it into his pocket while MacGillivray hung up the phone and called out, "What can I do for you?"
"For fuck's sake," Vincente grumbled under his breath as he turned back to the secure door. "He's gonna end up the next DOA. Thank God I don't work Homicide anymore."
MacGillivray pressed the buzzer and Vincente yanked open the door, glancing over his shoulder at Genna who watched him expectantly.
"Well? Come on then, Little Miss Police Brutality."
She smirked and followed behind him. "Hey. It sells."
"Because it's all you people bother to sell," Vincente retorted.
Genna only shrugged.
He walked down the hallway, his long strides taking him far enough ahead of her that she had to half-jog to keep up. As he passed the day shift sergeants' office he saw Elias smirk at the sight of Genna. When he walked into his office and saw Val still lounging around, her delighted grin only irritated him further.
He swore to God, sometimes it was like working with a bunch of gossiping old maids.
"Get out," he ordered.
"Oh of course, Sarge," Val said with an innocent glance between Genna and Vincente. "Right away." Her shoes thumped when they hit the floor and she stood, smiling at Genna as she passed.
"Ms. Brooks," Val greeted her with a nod.
Genna nodded distractedly, holding her messenger bag closer as Val passed. Genna was always guardedly protective of whatever she had in her bag. Vincente was the only person she seemed to trust in the department, ever since he'd been assigned the case of her sister's disappearance. It wasn't like he'd found the woman, though. So her blind faith in his abilities was a mystery.
Once the door was shut and Vincente had dropped into his uncomfortable government-issue chair with the on-its-way-to-being-broken back, he looked at her pointedly.
"What's so important?"
Genna moved over to the desk but remained standing rather than taking the seat Val had vacated. She held her bag close to her side and frowned at Vincente, all the spunk and stubbornness briefly leaving her as she watched him uncertainly.
After a few moments of staring at each other, Vincente snapped, "What?"
It wasn't like he had anything else to do. Of course he had all the time in the world to play the staring game.
"I hear you're looking for the cop killer," she said finally.
It was called Convergence. The two main characters are a cop (male) and a journalist (female).
There are a few reasons I didn't get very far into it but one of the biggest reasons was I highly doubt it would end up with any slash in it (I don't foresee any relationships at all) and I didn't think anyone would read it because of that. So after writing a few different scenes to test it out I pretty much gave up on the whole thing. I knew it would only discourage me to release it and have no one care about it, and I didn't care enough about it to keep writing it only for myself.
So it died.
But I randomly remembered it today and decided to pull it up and skim some parts of it. The story is basically about a journalist at a rag who doesn't always believe conspiracy theories are just theories (Genna, mentioned briefly in a side story) and a Sgt who specializes in gangs in Lexington PD (Vincente, name would be changed). While being her typically nosy self, Genna starts looking down paths that may be better left untouched, and may end up bringing Vincente along for the ride.
I have no idea if I'll ever end up writing more in it or not but since I had it up anyway I figured, what the hell. I should probably talk about ICoS-related things on this blog at some point and this is something I don't need to worry about spoilers for.
---
Here's an excerpt just because:
"Sgt. Salerno," Genna said, perking up as soon as she saw him.
She stood up from the crappy plastic chair next to a table that was otherwise never used. Vincente often wondered where the city got the furniture they provided. Sometimes he thought it must have come straight from a thrift store and that, usually, it should return there.
"What do you want?" he asked bluntly, not bothering with pleasantries.
"Access to the non-public on this case--" Genna said immediately, holding up her palm panel with an 8-digit case control number on the screen.
"Not gonna happen," Vincente cut her off flatly. "Talk to the PIO."
Genna made a face and dropped the palm panel to her side. "Costes won't give me shit. You know that."
"Tough luck."
Vincente turned and started to head back toward the secure door. Genna snatched a hand out, catching Vincente by the shirt sleeve.
"That could be considered assault on a peace officer," Vincente commented and Genna snorted.
"Remind me to apologize to the wrinkles on your shirt later. You didn't think I'd let you go that easily, did you?"
Vincente looked over his shoulder at her with narrowed eyes. "Did you miss the part where I can tell you to pack sand since all media requests go through the PIO?"
"This isn't a media request," she insisted.
He scowled. "It isn't my job to cater to looky-loos."
"It kind of is," Genna said with an amused quirk of her lips.
Vincente turned his back on her and strode toward the secure door, muttering under his breath. "Christ's sake. I'll deal with you later."
"What's that?" Genna said loudly as the door to the lobby opened and a man walked in. "Did you just threaten me with your taser?"
"What?" Vincente demanded, irritation climbing into the realm of outright aggravation, and turned around to see Genna staring at him intently.
"Now what was that website again for IA complaints..? Oh, no matter. I know the form's right over there..."
The man tried to subtly peer around the corner of the main desk to watch them. His subtlety was called into question even further when he pulled out his phone and stared down at the screen but then held it tilted awkwardly away from him.
"Hey," Vincente barked, causing the man to jump and look up with wide eyes. "Nothing to see here. And next time, pretend you're on the damn phone. Only a moron wouldn't be able to tell you're recording right now. You'll get yourself killed if you try to pull that shit on the street."
The man immediately fumbled with the phone and threw it into his pocket while MacGillivray hung up the phone and called out, "What can I do for you?"
"For fuck's sake," Vincente grumbled under his breath as he turned back to the secure door. "He's gonna end up the next DOA. Thank God I don't work Homicide anymore."
MacGillivray pressed the buzzer and Vincente yanked open the door, glancing over his shoulder at Genna who watched him expectantly.
"Well? Come on then, Little Miss Police Brutality."
She smirked and followed behind him. "Hey. It sells."
"Because it's all you people bother to sell," Vincente retorted.
Genna only shrugged.
He walked down the hallway, his long strides taking him far enough ahead of her that she had to half-jog to keep up. As he passed the day shift sergeants' office he saw Elias smirk at the sight of Genna. When he walked into his office and saw Val still lounging around, her delighted grin only irritated him further.
He swore to God, sometimes it was like working with a bunch of gossiping old maids.
"Get out," he ordered.
"Oh of course, Sarge," Val said with an innocent glance between Genna and Vincente. "Right away." Her shoes thumped when they hit the floor and she stood, smiling at Genna as she passed.
"Ms. Brooks," Val greeted her with a nod.
Genna nodded distractedly, holding her messenger bag closer as Val passed. Genna was always guardedly protective of whatever she had in her bag. Vincente was the only person she seemed to trust in the department, ever since he'd been assigned the case of her sister's disappearance. It wasn't like he'd found the woman, though. So her blind faith in his abilities was a mystery.
Once the door was shut and Vincente had dropped into his uncomfortable government-issue chair with the on-its-way-to-being-broken back, he looked at her pointedly.
"What's so important?"
Genna moved over to the desk but remained standing rather than taking the seat Val had vacated. She held her bag close to her side and frowned at Vincente, all the spunk and stubbornness briefly leaving her as she watched him uncertainly.
After a few moments of staring at each other, Vincente snapped, "What?"
It wasn't like he had anything else to do. Of course he had all the time in the world to play the staring game.
"I hear you're looking for the cop killer," she said finally.
