[attr="class","lex"]

For her? Lex’s cold and distant boundaries made it impossible for her to truly believe it. No one cared that much, not for someone like her. It was even more unbelievable in her current state. Lex was sorely aware of her disparaged existence in this wide world. Why would Yumi have any interest in her.

The doubt was etched clearly in the hard lines of the former Beast’s sharp features. She remained silent for a moment, watching Yumi usher her up and out of her seat, demanding they get some real food.

Lex didn’t move. She remained firmly planted in her seat at the bar, one hand toying with the rim of her glass. The other tapped the metal sphere that housed her pokemon for tonight, “You’re jumping the gun there, Yumi,“ she finally rose from her seat but didn't follow her old friend, “You’re going to have to wait. I have a job to do,” she tossed the Luxuryball up in the air, catching it with the same hand, “Sit back, enjoy the show . . . it’ll be over quick.”

---

Yumi Hasegawa

[attr="class","lex"]

“A waste?” she repeats the implication also without missing a beat. There’s a brightness to her tone that suggests she considers it a joke. Her dark lips even twitch into a half smile.

It’s too late, she already considers herself a tool. That’s all she ever was with Rocket.

Still, she reads between the lines, leaning heavily onto the counter, “So, what? You wanna drag me back to Rocket? Why would I go back? There’s nothing left for me there,” Killian was the only reason she stayed so long.

---

THEO BECKETT

[attr="class","lex"]

Sorry doesn’t bring him back, neither does killing his murderer, but it sure as hell would make her feel better knowing that alien was no longer infected their world. She simply shrugged as a manner of saying ‘thank you’ for the condolences.

Her lips pulled down into a frown, a certain seriousness emphasizing her beliefs on the subject, “The dead don’t want, Yumi. They’re dead. It doesn't matter what they want,” she pointed towards her empty glass, signaling for a refill from the bartender, “Work is hard to come by when you’re not with Rocket. I do what I need to do,” there was a little more to it than that. Places like this were cathartic, smothering a little bit of the pent of rage so she didn’t do anything truly stupid.

“This morning,” she huffed, answering as if it was a stupid question. A dollar hotdog from the gas station counted, right? “And I’ll eat after this,” the bartender brought back her glass full and with fresh ice, “What, I don’t look good?” it was a bit of a sarcastic question. Lex knew well what sort of state she was in. The bottom line was, she didn’t care. Depression had extinguished any sort of self-respect and desire for progress.

“What brings you down here, Yumi?” she finally asked, her patience wearing thin. She wanted to get to the point, get it over with. She drew the glass towards her to sip from, “This place isn’t very . . . you ya know?”

---

Yumi Hasegawa

[attr="class","lex"]

She knew it wouldn’t be that easy, but it was worth a shot. When he didn’t move and only pressed further, she turned to face him. The bottle found a safe spot on the counter, away from the edge. It freed her hands while maintaining a casual disposition, “It doesn’t matter,” not to anyone except her. She wasn’t about to divulge her deepest desires to a player in the game that exploited them. She didn’t need help, nor another obstacle.

The latter was probably an impossibility given the current situation.


“So what now, Theo? You take me in? You rough me up a bit? You torture me?... Kill me?” She knew he wasn’t here to just talk.

---

THEO BECKETT

[attr="class","lex"]

“Gessh…” the name trailed into a whisper just like the memories in the back of her mind. She’d made it a habit to lock away anything and everything that reminded her of better times. Those were dangerous. Revenge couldn’t thrive where hope smothered hatred.

Lex’s gaze followed Yumi into the seat beside her, amber eyes flashing with more annoyance than welcome. She wanted to be left alone. Yumi’s familiar, yet judgemental, tone didn’t mix well with her short fuse. Tension gripped her jaw and she drew back, unintentionally creating space.

There was a better question to ask: What didn’t happen?

Lex didn’t marry Killian. She didn’t find him. She didn’t find closure in his disappearance, only grief. She didn’t play it smart. She let ghosts haunt her and rage poison her. She didn’t ask for help, instead she secluded herself, content in drowning in her own misery.

Despite it all, she rewards Yumi with a vague response, drawing her gaze from her old friend down to the fractured rocks glass occupying her fingers, “The unimaginable,” though really it was expected. Their line of work didn’t promise long lifespans. That didn’t change how severely it fractured her will to live, “He’s dead,” and with him, half of her. Her survival instinct now clung to something else, something far more toxic.

---

Yumi Hasegawa

[attr="class","lex"]

“Of course,” she sings as if she know exactly what matter happened to be more pressing, “The fact I’m even on your list is an honor,” her dark lips curled into a mocking smile, obviously more annoyed than anything.

Lex’s fingers gripped tighter around the neck of the bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag, “I have unfinished business,” and that’s the depth of detail she was willing to share with the Underboss, “But not with Rocket so you don’t have to worry about little ole me,” she swept over to what constituted the kitchen - really just a small fridge, counter, and single burner stove. She popped the top off the bottle and took a swig before setting it down. She’d probably need to numbing agent, “So . . . you can go,” she tried her luck at shooing him away.

---

THEO BECKETT

[attr="class","lex"]

Peace was a luxury she couldn’t afford. But would she seek it even if she wanted to? The quietness of peace was deafening, and a hunger for chaos was insatiable.

Maybe that’s why she didn’t run. When the thought to move on from this apartment crossed her mind she knew she was ignoring it to her own detriment. Despite her warning to herself, she stayed, just waiting for the day when chaos found her.

When Theo’s deep voice echoed across the room, she wasn’t surprised. That’s why she smiles, a toothy grin gleaming in the faint light of the one fixture above them, “Hmph, what took you so long?”

---

THEO BECKETT

[attr="class","lex"]

It really was a disgusting place. Blood, sweat, and stale liquor bled into the dungeon’s grimy atmosphere which was a bit too humid for comfort. For how little Lex cared, she really did hate it here. She’d been coming long enough to become recognizable - her first mistake. Easy cash was hard to pass up, though.

Yumi stood out like a sore thumb in the riff raff that infected this establishment. It wasn’t her polished, well put together attire that drew the crowd’s gaze, but the fact that she was the only one in here sporting any sort of self respect and dignity.

Naturally, Lex’s gaze filtered over with the others’. Through her narrowed glare she carved out a sense of familiarity, “Yumi,” she was about the last person she expected to see down here. The fact she seemed to take an interest in her well-being, feigned or not, made her dark lips twitch in a half drunk smirk, “You were thinking about me? That’s sweet,” her eyes trailed over the woman’s shoulders, scanning the crowd for anyone she didn’t recognize - anyone that could be from Rocket.

“Hope you didn’t bring any friends.”

---

Yumi Hasegawa

[attr="class","lex"]

Her amber eyes fluttered open, immediately squinting against the intrusion of the late evening sun through the torn shades over her window, “Fuck,” she whispered to no one in particular, rolling over with a grown. Sobriety hit her hard; a pounding headache, aching joints, and a sour taste cemented to her tongue. The sun beaming through her window told her enough about the time. Soon, it would be dark which meant she was on the verge of being late.

Lex ran wet hands through her long hair to make it somewhat presentable, threw on whatever clothes were closest by, and slipped into her leather jacket. Autopilot brought her down the stairs of her rundown apartment building and to the liquor store on the corner. The manager slipped her usual pint of whiskey into a paper bag and slid it across the counter.

“You ever think about trying something else?”

Larry’s goofy grin was met with a cold, annoyed glare.

“Mind your own fucking business, Larry.”

Her wallet was emptier than she expected. She thumbed through the remaining bills with a scowl. There was enough for this, but maybe not dinner. She needed some fast cash.

The burn of the cheap whiskey scared away the headache but not the other ghosts that haunted her: the rage, the loneliness, and deep hatred. Give it enough time, and enough whiskey, and they would disappear as well.

---

”Who’s it gonna be tonight?” the bored woman asked, tapping her pen against the ledger of match ups for the evening. The underground battle arena was already buzzing in anticipation.

“Whatever the highest paying one is.”

“Two on one,” she bit her lip before continuing, “ . . . They want it bloody.”

A presence that followed in her shadow pressed heavy against her mind. She was hungry, oh so hungry. Not tonight.

“I’ll take it . . . With Butcher.”

“They’ll be most pleased.”

---

She bellied up to the bar, a dark corner. The fights began and all Lex had to do was bide her time and get drunk enough to not care. Lex thumbed the Luxuryball on her hip. It stood out from the rest, the only polished and shiny sphere. It was heavier too. It was a gift from Killian, a little Pawniard that had grown into quite the savage Bisharp. That’s not what he wanted, but it’s what happened. Even though he was gone, his disappointment was palpable, C’mon, Little Dove, it doesn’t have to be like this.

”Shut up.”

She finished the shot, motioning for another. It was time to scare the ghosts away.

---

Yumi Hasegawa

[attr="class","lex"]

She had her reservations, and every right to. Lex avoided the high offices at all costs. Even Killian knew that. She rarely came to visit him in his office. And to be summoned by Jayden? Ugh.

Her law clenched as discomfort rippled across her body. She was hyperaware, sensitive to each subtle change in the air around her. Her astute survival instinct had kept her alive this long - and it wasn’t disappearing any time soon.

She didn’t trust him. She had no reason to. Her lack of faith in many was no secret. It made her the estranged beast, the one in the shadows, the one in the corner that simply got the job done no questions asked.

Lex brought with her a heavy tension that lingered in her taut shoulders hidden beneath the leather jacket she typically wore, “Cross,” she greeted with about as much enthusiasm as a Mareep facing a Mightyena. Her amber eyes darted down to the lone chair, “I’d rather stand,” nothing good happened in a single steel chair.

---

jayden cross

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[attr="class","lex"]

By some miracle, the SPELL TAG seemed to work. If it didn’t, there was going to be hell to pay for whoever lied to them about that. Luckily for all involved, that would be unnecessary.

The Shadow gardevoir crawled back to her side through the dark mist of PHANTOM FORCE. Her lifeless eyes sought further instruction. With the threat gone, Lex dismissed the ghost with a wave of her hand. That was probably enough for one visit.

“I don’t know but let’s not do it again,” she suggested after Marza’s astute question. Unfortunately, they were probably going to do it again because they were all idiots and suckers for punishment.

---

jayden cross & fern delaney & Marza Volchitsa



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