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OPEN SEASON 2.
1. pick a character.
☛ optional.
☛ character list here.
☛ full list.
☛ specify in the subject line if you want one character in particular.
☛ character list here.
☛ full list.
☛ specify in the subject line if you want one character in particular.
2. provide a prompt.
☛ image, words, music, whatever you want.
☛ i like to think at least one of my three tumblrs has something interesting. (be warned that all three blogs contain nsfw material, including porn.)
☛ i like to think at least one of my three tumblrs has something interesting. (be warned that all three blogs contain nsfw material, including porn.)
3. gotta go fast.
no subject
no subject
What do you want?
[the words are spat out, as vicious as she knows she has the capacity to be if he so much as touches her.]
no subject
[ he replies after a minimal pause, staying a good few feet away. ]
Just came to see if you were dead or something.
[ what a terrible joke. he doesn't know what to say, though, and shifts his weight uncomfortably without moving closer. ]
no subject
[her. dead. after all that? she almost wishes it was so.]
Is that all you came for or do you have questions?
[unspoken: like everyone else did. psychiatrists, superior officers, anyone that had a glimpse at the story asked questions about it like she could give them an answer, and here he had the whole fucking thing in his lap. she was going to be dignified and try to forget everything of him she saw, but she has a feeling she'll never be able to.
if he asks, she's asking in return.]
no subject
...not really.
[ if she wants him to know, she'll tell him. and he knows the feeling of not wanting to talk about the past, even if it claws at him in every waking (and sometimes sleeping) moment. ]
Do you?
no subject
[somewhere in the back of her head she regrets it, and she'll regret being so harsh later, but for the moment...]
no subject
[ because he knows how shitty it is having people question everything about you (why are you like this? why do you keep doing this? what the hell went on to fuck you up so much?). because he wouldn't know how to ask, even if he wanted to. ]
no subject
[because now he could destroy her and expose her, he could break her with a phrase and she could not stop him. she's supposed to be strong, and that has been exposed for the lie it is.
she wants to go home, curl up on her bed and not move for hours, have some illusion of privacy so she can collect herself. but that requires getting up, and although she can pull herself to standing, her head pounds like someone's driving a railroad spike into it.]
How do I trust any-fucking-thing you say now, hm?
no subject
but what he's gone through isn't a secret. he'd tell her if she ever asked without thinking too much about it. somehow, what he knows about her feels... different. ]
I don't know. [ he takes a step back, and then crouches down so that they're on level but at a distance. ] I don't know. I didn't... want to see that.
no subject
Neither did I. Why would they do that?
[she's less hysterical as she keeps talking, words are something solid to grasp, there is a target to blame, and he's not touching her, so there are three things in favour of getting an inch of a grip.]
Why? What was the point?
[she looks at him like he's supposed to have the answers to it, like somewhere in these new memories there's logic in any step if this. being lied to by omission from the Agency--that wasn't new. having the sanctity of one's mind violated? that was something an agent wasn't supposed to experience, or reexperience in cases like her.
she'd like to trust him again, but how can she?]
no subject
[ he's repeating himself, it's true, but he really doesn't know what, or why. going through that has made him tired, somehow both physically and mentally. ]
I don't even know how they did it. And they could still use that... whatever.
no subject
Can we...make an agreement? You don't think on what you saw, I don't think about what I saw?
no subject
Sure. Fine.
[ he drops down to sit on the ground, pulling his heels close to himself in a butterfly stretch, head bowed for a moment before he looks up at her. ]
...sorry.
no subject
[she keeps her gaze at him, focusing on his hair to make herself stop being on the edge of tears.]
no subject
[ he runs a hand through his hair automatically, as if there might be something in it that grell's staring at. ]
no subject
[the idea occurs to her that they might be listening to all of this, and at the least she can make it a hell of a lot harder for them to hear any of it by getting quieter and switching languages, lest they use it as some sort of sick example.]
Die Psychopathen, der es gemacht hat. Sie muss sich dafür entschuldigen.
no subject
[ heine ruffles his hair again automatically and then rubs his forehead, looking away as he speaks again. ]
Sie müssen hier raus.
no subject
[and what more could they possibly do that they haven't done?]
no subject
[ he mumbles plainly. heine shrugs and rubs the back of his head, uncertain. ]
no subject
[he need only peek at the edges of her memories to confirm how true that was. she leaves when dismissed and no earlier.]
no subject
[ if he learned anything from working with a private investigator for years, it's that all you need is the right leverage. ]
no subject
[in retrospect, that was the source of a lot of problems.]
no subject
—but now is not the time to think about it. ]
Okay.
[ heine starts getting to his feet, rubbing his face. ]
Ich gehe zurück in meine wohnung gehen.