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POSTED ON Aug 21, 2021 17:56:30 GMT

It wasn’t the bar, where she led him. Instead, they’d wind up at her office. She looked briefly down at his leg, and then replaced the key in her pocket. “Hold on.”

Her shadow disappeared beneath the door, and on the other side, she muzzled the Houndoom that stood guard. When the door opened, he growled behind her, but his teeth were rendered useless behind a cage strapped over his head. She supposed it still probably beat sitting in a pokeball.

“Tsh,” she quieted him, and then spoke back over her shoulder.

“He won’t hurt you. Not too sure why he attacked you the first time, if I’m honest.”

Djall crept back over to her side, eyeing Theo all the while with a glare that was personal. He'd smelled Theo on her that night she'd spent crying in bed. The distress had clearly meant this man had hurt her in some way. He was a creature made more of loyalty than reason--not unlike his trainer.

Maybe Lulu owed Theo an apology.

Oh, well. Not like she’d bitten his leg.

Lulu was already moving for her desk to sit behind it, and pull from its drawer a bottle with two mismatched coffee mugs.

“Tequila work for you? It’s all I’ve got.”

THEO BECKETT

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beck

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POSTED ON Aug 21, 2021 18:10:54 GMT

[attr="class","beck"]he's expecting the bar but this is a nice surprise. he nods, waiting patiently as she disappears beneath the door, seemingly still unfazed in the face of the unknown. but it isn't really the unknown, is it? he fears not darkrai itself but the nightmares it had once made him see.

regardless, his thoughts are pushed aside the moment he steps through the door.

"you finally got him a muzzle."

indifference washes over him even at the muzzled houndoom that glares at him. he sits, settling into the chair.

"tequila works."

[attr="class","noodles"]Lulu Flint

[newclass=.beck] text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; } .beck b { color: #716075; font-size: 13px; } .beck u { color: #b5b5b5; font-style: italic; text-decoration: underline dotted #716075; font-size: 13px; } .beck a { font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-weight: bold; text-transform: uppercase; } .beck .noodles { margin: 0; padding: 5px 0; } .beck .noodles img { max-width: 100%; max-height: 100%; border: none; outline: none; margin: 0; padding: 0; display: inline; float: none; } .beck .noodles .pkmn { display: inline; } .beck .noodles .inactive { filter: grayscale(1); -webkit-filter: grayscale(1); [/newclass]

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saoirse quinn

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POSTED ON Aug 21, 2021 18:55:44 GMT

Djall settled at her heel, but even as he placed his caged skull on large paws at the floor, his red stare never wavered.

“Yep,” she confirmed shortly. The frustration over her dog’s psychological metamorphosis was fleeting. She had bigger complaints.

She poured them both a fairly liberal amount of booze before sliding one mug towards him, and slouching far back into her chair to sip the other.

Her eyes cut at him a little as she struggled to gather something mentally.

“Did I ever mention I was fucking FERNANDO SILPH ?”

Stupid.

THEO BECKETT

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beck

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POSTED ON Aug 21, 2021 19:28:16 GMT

[attr="class","beck"]even then, the red stare isn't met with anything other than the occasional side-eye. it oddly reminds him of Cillian Quinn's lugia, though there's a distinct lack of PRESSURE. even the mere memory is unnerving.

"you didn't. but he seems like your type."

reaching for the mug, he follows suit and sips.

"why?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Lulu Flint

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saoirse quinn

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POSTED ON Aug 21, 2021 20:23:22 GMT

“Wha—”

Fernando was her type. Or, at least, he had been. He was steel and ice, strength and self-assuredness that all felt a bit like home. He radiated the air that she wished never faltered about herself.

Or had she ever been anything else than an angry pit of fire?

“My type? Seriously?”

She guffawed, sneered resentfully, shaking her head. Eyes then settled on him again a moment, almost regretting bringing him here as she realized how unsafe the subject matter was.

Alas, it had boiled over. She needed an outlet.

“This doesn’t leave this office.”

A frivolous request, likely. Her gaze fell to her drink. More than anything, there was a feeling of shame.

“He tricked me.”

THEO BECKETT

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POSTED ON Aug 22, 2021 6:16:06 GMT

[attr="class","beck"]"yes."

but he'd spare both of them the pain, saying nothing else but that. he nods his head at her request, though most said between them has always stayed that way. this is no different.

he tricked me.

he leans a little, just enough to show his interest.

"how?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Lulu Flint

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saoirse quinn

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POSTED ON Aug 22, 2021 7:33:36 GMT

Yes.

She hated it.

Theo was dangerous, as well. There was a special sort of hatred there for him, but his closeness to her family kept her around, spiteful as ever, but lingering because she would not let anyone new in. He was already there, having affected her life in a great way that she loathed but had to now accept.

Even while she guessed he might put a bullet in her head for it, her anger and need to ventilate made it somehow worth the risk.
Kill her now. It might be a relief.

“We used to have drinks together. I was trying to get some information from him, but...” She sighed, shaking her head and taking another sip. “I took him home one night.” A huff. It was up there with one of the dumbest things she’d ever done. “I said it was over, and I moved cities the next morning.”

“He figured out who I was—before Rocket. My name; presumably where I came from, and what happened before I went to prison, as far I can guess.” She briefly wondered how much Theo knew, and her eyes glanced up at his briefly before averting again. Now wasn’t the time to ask.

“He intended to blackmail me with it, but I’d already been running for so long from someone else that I couldn’t stand to do it again, so I stood my ground. He tried to arrest me, and I fought—and lost.”

“But he didn’t take me to jail. He took me to his apartment.”

She finished her drink, and poured another, not stopping with much time for interjection. Memories began to swarm.

“He kept me there, controlling my consciousness; deciding when I slept. He ‘interrogated me’ to the point that I was in a pool of my own blood and vomit. He brought back the ghosts of my past, and of my lover, and promised their souls freedom if they could break me.” She remembered them descending, dogpiling and ripping at her heart and mind in a way which was indescribable.

She wondered if he might believe her. “I didn’t tell him anything. I couldn’t.” Because of Cillian. “I was supposed to die. I wanted to. I remember hoping for it…”

He’d stepped on her head. Literally.

“And then, when he couldn’t get anything out of me, he erased my memory. He replaced them with…” It was almost too difficult. “He made me think I loved him. Rewrote the things in my head.”

A hand went up to rub her eyes. The story proved emotional and exhausting to tell.

“I slept with him for months—until the memories came back.”

Now, as she sat back again, she looked him dead in the eyes.

“You should kill me.”

THEO BECKETT

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POSTED ON Aug 22, 2021 8:14:33 GMT

[attr="class","beck"]through it all, theo simply listens, not wanting to dilute her revelation with a comment, though the desire never comes for he has no words for what she has done, for what has happened to her.

by the end of it, there's only sympathy in his eyes.

it's a rare sight.

her final comment goes ignored.

all he does, after another sip, is ask one question.

"who else knows?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Lulu Flint

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saoirse quinn

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POSTED ON Aug 22, 2021 11:17:35 GMT

She’d not been nearly sober enough to remember all of the emotions that had swelled the first time she’d told the story, or the details she’d left out. There wasn’t any sense of relief. No deep breath of freedom afterwards.

There was only the settling-in of reality as she stared into the face of another killer; one who’d given his own life to the organization she’d become a liability to.

Cillian knew, but telling Theo that felt like throwing him under the bus. She’d meant to sacrifice herself for him already. So, she lied, her voice only breaking a little.

“No one.”

The sympathy in his eyes didn’t register. The pace of her heart increased, and she reached into the drawer again for a pack of cigarettes, ashtray and matches. She drew one from the pack and slid the rest towards him. As hers hung from her lips, she attempted to light three matches with a shaky hand before giving up and spitting the cigarette out, attempting to throw the matchbook across the room, but it was too light, and didn't make it quite far enough to be satisfying.

“Fuck!”

THEO BECKETT

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POSTED ON Aug 22, 2021 12:42:50 GMT

[attr="class","beck"]oftentimes, no words exist that could help soothe the trauma one experiences. he's never been good with words, with feelings, but he understands the basics: anger, frustration, pain, hurt, guilt.

it's for that reason that he stands, and without a word, steps over to pick up the matchbook before stepping around her table, approaching her side.

pinching a cigarette, he extends it towards her lips.

"here."

and if allowed to, he'd strike a match before holding it towards her.

[attr="class","noodles"]Lulu Flint

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saoirse quinn

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october 27th

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POSTED ON Aug 22, 2021 13:02:58 GMT

She was breaking.

Eyes were unblinking as she watched him approach. She took the cigarette in her lips loosely and then eventually leaned forward at the flame, puffing a cloud of smoke. Looking up at him still, despite the fear that held her eyes open, a tear rolled down her cheek. Her jaw clenched, squeezing on a filter, as she found herself unable to move.

She saw her. Natalia. A mother, of sorts, pressing her ghostly cigar right between her eyes.

“I’m not a rat.” It was the truth; she was sure of it. Mind control and memory erasure be damned… to betray her family would be worse than death. She’d had what she cared about torn away under such an accusation before. She’d nearly been executed. “I never was, and I never will be.”

Her voice got quieter, cigarette still hanging from her lips in nerve-induced paralysis. “I wouldn't let myself live.”

THEO BECKETT

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POSTED ON Aug 22, 2021 13:15:45 GMT

[attr="class","beck"]i'm not a rat.

it's a line he's heard time and time again. more often than not, it'd be the last few words they'd ever speak. such is not the case this time.

his hand finds her shoulder, and after a gentle squeeze, he says:

"i believe you."

an exhale later finds him back at his seat, now with a cigarette between his lips as well. he inhales, exhales, then reaches for his mug.

"i'm sorry that happened to you."

[attr="class","noodles"]Lulu Flint

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saoirse quinn

she/her

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october 27th

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TAG WITH @lulu

POSTED ON Aug 22, 2021 13:43:40 GMT

Willed back to some state of life at the squeeze on her shoulder, she blinked. Another tear was cut from her eyelids and she wiped it away quickly. He believed her?

“…”

She didn’t believe him. His consolation was fake. It had to be.

Her emotions were inhaled with a sharp breath, and she gathered herself. Anger began to seep back in, mingling with the terror she now subjected herself to.

She found she couldn’t look at him again. Her eyes lingered on her mug, and she shook her head. “I was stupid.” Her voice strained, breaking up a cloud of smoke as she plucked the cigarette from her lips. “I fucked up. And now, all I can think about is killing him… torturing him…”

“All I feel is rage, Beckett. There’s nothing else, anymore.” Another large gulp of tequila, and she looked up at him again. “Making sense yet?”

With a sharp breath that was nearly ready to lash out again, she leaned towards him, almost hissing.

“I don’t need to go fishing.”

She needed to murder a man.

THEO BECKETT

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POSTED ON Aug 22, 2021 14:12:03 GMT

[attr="class","beck"]after a long sip, he shifts, leaning forward, elbows digging into his thighs as he searches for her gaze.

"do you know why i joined rocket?"

he doesn't wait for an answer.

"my mom was sick. dad didn't make enough so i thought i'd help. i reached out to rocket, found some work, and things get better for a little bit."

a pause.

"until one day, they took me to a small shed behind the house, handed me a gun, and told me they had my family tied up in there. mom, dad, even my little brother. they said: kill one and we'll spare the rest."

a beat.

"...so i did."

kill one and we'll spare the rest.

"they killed everyone else after."

bang, bang.

"i felt guilty, stupid, but also angry. i wanted to fight, to kill, to just get my hands on anything or anyone, and for the longest time all i could feel was rage."

"but eventually, i felt nothing."

[attr="class","noodles"]Lulu Flint

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saoirse quinn

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