so this got wildly out of hand; 3000 words later, my deep and sort of inexplicable love for both king lear and chicago turned what was supposed to be a comment!fic into a whole mess of feelings and crazy. not edited well, as i wanted to get it posted; all mistakes and/or awkward phrasing is on me.
Republic City is a town with a papered-over past, and Lin wants to whitewash out her bad decisions. Momma's girl always has a place on the force waiting for her, waiting with double the weight of expectations, double the pressure of any other recruit. Some earths turn to diamond if you press 'em hard enough - maybe one day she'll find out if she's one of them.
She turns away, looking for a teashop that sells bathtub-brewed white rice wine under the counter. Maybe she'll meet a guy, someone a little on the firey side. Not some decent, decieving man who'll twist out of her fingers like a breeze.
She doesn't carry any weapons but her hands and the movements of her body. More than enough to get into trouble, and probably enough to get out of it too.
X-Men: First Class, Charles, Raven-They're always going to the City but one time they ended up where they shouldn't have. Mobsters don't like anyone knowing their secrets.
White Collar, mob/prohibition AU, Elizabeth is the boss's girl, Neal's his pet crook, two songbirds in a gleaming cage, and Peter. Well Peter was just supposed to be muscle, but that's not how things are working out, not with those two around.
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tw: suicide; some loosely described insanity.
we have seen the best of our time (king lear, goneril/edmund and regan, pg-13)
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*wants there to be lots and lots of noir!Shakespeare*
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so, apologies for the tw stuff, but i'm glad there are others in the world who want to see this stuff.
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Republic City is a town with a papered-over past, and Lin wants to whitewash out her bad decisions. Momma's girl always has a place on the force waiting for her, waiting with double the weight of expectations, double the pressure of any other recruit. Some earths turn to diamond if you press 'em hard enough - maybe one day she'll find out if she's one of them.
She turns away, looking for a teashop that sells bathtub-brewed white rice wine under the counter. Maybe she'll meet a guy, someone a little on the firey side. Not some decent, decieving man who'll twist out of her fingers like a breeze.
She doesn't carry any weapons but her hands and the movements of her body. More than enough to get into trouble, and probably enough to get out of it too.
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