saoirse quinn
she/her
29
october 27
circhester, galar
bisexual
physicist / inventor
head scientist
every night i burn, dream the black crow dream
TAG WITH @lulu
Lulu Flint
spectral [m][c]
POSTED ON Jan 9, 2021 20:49:05 GMT
a gleam of annoyance flashed through her eyes at him. she then shrugged, and chewed less ‘politely’, and continued pretending to be more consumed by the fireworks than with his presence—the first time seeing him in months. that’s just how they were. she finished her pastry and lit a cigarette. dachev and clayton? she was sure she’d see dachev soon—they tended to be placed together on missions, although she wasn’t sure how his new status might affect that trend. clayton had always seemed like a solid loyal. they were both deserving of power. considering it a moment, she shrugged. “let someone else have it if i don’t get there first. i’m in no rush.” she looked at him sort of darkly. “someone will fall off, eventually.” it was waggish, a joke made clear only by the lightest twitch of the corner of her mouth, but it was morbid as hell, even for her. she wouldn’t have it for any of them. however, they both knew it to be true. she took a sip from a flask she’d brought along. “kind of a necessity right now. i’m assuming dorian filled you in that i was shot?” she had a bad arm now, but that was hardly the extent of the damage. she wouldn’t give him the nasty details that had caused the mental repercussions of that night—not only had she been shot, but she’d essentially stabbed her adoptive mother to death in the throat. she’d discovered the gruesome details of how her one lover in life had been brutally murdered. she’d witnessed her pokemon, maimed and then slaughtered—all in one night. she had become darkness. she had surpassed the typical ‘it’s a quinn family thing’ cold. perhaps he would see it—see even more of himself; the part of him that had broken away from the family, even, that was free from genetic influence. they were alike on so many levels now, blood or not. lulu would always be dangerous. she would always rise to the occasion. but honestly, it was likely she would never step up to the plate of beast; never truly seek out that level of violence again. it was likely she would always be in the dark now, tinkering, typing away at her computer, same as she had in her bedroom when cillian had disappeared. she'd come full-circle, in a way. and then, as soon as she tried not to think about it, suddenly, those thoughts were stuck in her head. she sniffed, pressed her teeth together and looked up at the fireworks again.
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