piss girl might real quickly turn into shit girl. she should have worn darker pants than her blue jeans. bumps are on the back of her neck; every hair is on end and she understands that this is real fear. brave face be damned; she's scared shitless. face pale, knuckles white. her jaw is tense because if she doesn't keep herself wound like an elastic band ready to snap, she might just break down. 

under severe pressure, she discovers something about herself. she takes her seat and leans dramatically around the side of the chair to inspect the drain. the rusted color around it. a muscle in her cheek flicks. 

"'cause toby patterson's a nosy piece of shit," she says, lip curled in a smirking snarl. 

Cillian Quinn Naomi Sato

☉

here is what she discovered about herself: when being held to the wire, when at the knife's edge between life or death, she handles it the way she handles most uncomfortable things, only ten times worse.

when the shadows emerge, she startles, jumping in her chair. they clasp around her wrists and her ankles and bind her, resolutely. her head tilts, gaze sliding to one side to look at the tendrils that hold her in place. the klefki looks wrong.

she doesn't know anything about shadows. put that on the list - the novel, at this point - of Shit Parker Doesn't Know. 

he draws his sleeve back. oh, she's done that move before. she knows what's coming next. she could stop it. probably. but her mouth is in no way connected to her brain right now. 

"pegged ya for a kinky fuck, but i gotta be honest 'fore ya get your hopes up - i'm not into what you got down there." 

she grins down at his crotch.

Cillian Quinn

☉

he's pulling his punches, which is a sobering thought. that and her still-healing over, busted face and bruised lip do not appreciate being punched right now. they twinge and she jerks forward, restraints ringing her with lovely red marks. 

this simultaneously wants her to cooperate with him and also spit in his face. does she go the self-preservation route? of course not. her blood's boiling, she's scared shitless, and homeboy here just summoned shadow tentacles or whatever the fuck around his arm. 

"what kinda - heughn - std is that?" she says through a couple of gasps. "i gotta go get tested now?" blood dribbles neatly down her chin.

Cillian Quinn

☉

well, that one hurts like a bitch. she flinches back from the words. tendrils shiver over her skin and she wants to vomit, but she loses the ability to when they move up to coil around her neck. if this were any less dire, if she could manage around the pressure in the air, she would have bitten out one last remark. 

'cause this is weird fetish porno city right here. 

but her sense of humor drains with the rest of the color in her face. she can't even reach up to claw at the thing pressing hard on her windpipe. all she manages is a gasp and a narrowing of her eyes. 

she searches racing thoughts. what does she even say? that she wanted to bone the ship captain, but it's more than that but the feelings are clearly only one way except when they're not but they can't do anything about it and it doesn't matter anyway because parker's starting to feel a little confused and over the whole thing?

no time to blurt any of that out. she nearly bites her tongue off when the shadows rip into her flesh, flaying the shoddy stitch job she'd put there in the first place. blood seeps down the side of her leg, dark red and viscous.

"i gave you...my whole life...fucker," she squeezes out, fingers tightening against the edges of the chair. i gave this organization my whole fucking life.

and this is what i get.

Cillian Quinn

☉

the door opens. parker doesn't give them the time of day. 'cause if someone else is walking in, that means it's the death toll ringing. ding, dong, parker's dead! if she could backpedal and wrangle it all in - all her anger and her frustration - she would have done it differently. she would have practiced in front of the mirror a hundred times over if it meant she got to kept living.

she thinks this, and yet her eyes narrow at his accusatory tone.

fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. and fuck

nomi?

the surprise on her face, fortunately, is made to the underboss's back. as is the guilt that crests in her eyes when they rest on nomi's face. she shifts her leg and bites her lip through the pain. 

"you're missin' the part where i punched her in the gut," she mutters. 

Naomi Sato Cillian Quinn

☉