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Detective Harper Ravenscroft
Take me to your leader.
Tue Feb 8, 2011 9:19pm

He had portfolios full of evidence, all the proof he needed and photographic evidence which practically constituted as confession. Detective Harper Ravenscroft thoroughly enjoyed flouting his influence and power, and he especially enjoyed being one of the few people capable of putting the fear of God into the so-called autonomous, utterly sacrilege, disgustingly rogue, wickeldy unwholesome Heads of Pitts' Institute.

He hadn't had an opportunity to intimidate Eve Winchester and Devon T. Grace for at least half a decade, now, but that time window was closing, fast. He'd assured his superiors that since he had experience with the Heads, he was the one who should show up on Pitts' doorstep uninvited.

And he did, furiously delighted, churningly smug.

He had an entire squad with him, and press - of course! press! - although those, apparently, had to wait outside, based on protocol, which he didn't care for in the least. He'd tweezed his eyebrows, put a finishing coat on his nails, worn a goddamn belt to this event, he found it so spectacular.

He could have walked right up to Grace's office, or Winchester's for that matter, but that wouldn't have been nearly as satisfying. No audience.

Instead, Ravenscroft stopped the first person he saw and told them, deadly low and mocking, with a smile on his face that could have belonged to the Grinch, as he produced his badge, "Detective Ravenscroft. Why don't you start by bringing me your Heads."

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