A beautiful fiction I invented to keep out the cold

[desperate_times_right]

Who: Chloe Frazer & others
What: Catch-all; open prompts
When: March and April
Where: Around Milton

Content Warnings: Self-injury content related to the echo effects. Descriptions of canon typical violence and murder. Talk about hunting/eating animals.


Chloe doesn't trust Methuselah as far as she could throw him, and a trip through a mine where she's forced to rely on the goodwill of a bunch of cop types does not sound like her idea of a good time. Also, sticking around Milton when most of the people who 'patrol' (imagine her air quotes) are away is a great opportunity to snoop in people’s houses.

Anyone who remains in or returns to Milton may find her either doing her usual wild running in the woods, checking her snares for snacks, or sneaking around newly empty locations to see what's been left behind.

Aurora nights are a different thing, however. Chloe likes to think that she's done her best to do right by the people that she cares about, but the truth is she's cut a few throats in her day, stepped over others to make sure that she would wind up on top. Something about the aurora this month brings every one of those memories roaring back. It has her running faster, drinking until she can't see, and doing risky climbs onto (and jumps between) rooftops, trying to escape the feeling.

Comments

[desperate_times_right]

And just like that, Chloe’s back on top where she belongs. She pulls her knees to her chest in satisfaction and sighs.

“If you don't want to risk touching it, it's fine.”

[salamanca]

Lalo's pride immediately refuses to let him back down now. As far as he's concerned, this is a challenge.

"Risk! What risk? Nah, nah! You saw me before. I can handle it!" He waves his hand in the air and grins. But on the inside, he feels his stomach drop, and there's obvious hesitation as he turns to the door. He grabs for an oven mitt. Who knows? Maybe if there's a barrier between his hand and the pheasant, it might help somehow.

Lalo sucks in a deep breath, puts his hand on the doorknob, and twists.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe, who was eating raw meat in the forest just earlier tonight, smirks to herself. These guys must have been pretty hungry on the mine trip.

“Yeah, okay. Good luck.”

[salamanca]

"Thanks! But I don't need it. I can handle it. You'll see."

Lalo sucks in a breath, bracing himself as he goes downstairs. There's a fridge in the cellar, which he doesn't use, and an icebox, which he does; the pheasant, cleaned and butchered, is there.

When Lalo re-emerges from the cellar, he's carrying the pheasant... looking pleased and triumphant about his solution of carrying it with an oven mitt, and... a stick.

He beams at Chloe, clearly proud of his solution. "See? What'd I tell you!"

Of course, he can't butcher it like that. Eventually, he'll have to take the risk, but for right now, he wants to show her his cleverness.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe laughs, delighted. “Oh wow. How clever.”

[salamanca]

Lalo is pleased by her reaction. It was exactly what he'd wanted, after all!

But even Lalo struggles to keep hold of the bird, fumbling a little, and with the stick, only to drop it on the floor. He stares at it for a second, horrified, thinking about the cleanup... but then he remembers he's got an audience. He heaves a breath, and nods at her.

"Not to worry," he tells her, sighing internally. "I'll wash it." He's going to have to pick it up. He reaches for it, bracing himself to grab the bird with his hand. Expecting it to hurt. And...

Nothing.

It doesn't.

He doesn't feel anything. There's a mixture of confusion and relief and slowly dawning horror on his face as he stands up, grabbing it.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe applauds a little from her seat. Somehow the way she's curled up now looks smug.

“Beautiful! That took way less time than I thought.”

[salamanca]

"Wha...? Less time? I don't..."

Lalo looks like the realization is still slowly hitting him, and the applause only seems to confirm it, although he's still slowly piecing it together. He stares at her for a few seconds with a raw bird in his hand, probably getting salmonella, feeling like a goddamn idiot.

And then Lalo turns away and heads to the kitchen, huffily, without another word.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe stays in her spot on the sofa, but her cackling laugh follows Lalo into the next room.

[salamanca]

From the kitchen, the sound of running water and a fuming:

"Yeah, yeah! YOU'RE REAL FUNNY!"

[desperate_times_right]

“No harm done, except to the poor pheasant!”

[salamanca]

The mortified, sulky silence practically wafts from the kitchen, amidst the loud banging and clanging of pots and pans. Even if she can't see him, Chloe can probably sense Lalo's huffiness.

[desperate_times_right]

She can, and it's great. Yes, this guy is dangerous and the games she plays with him are walking a knife’s edge, but his reactions when she wins are so fun.

[salamanca]

The water creeks on, then off. Lalo, drying his hands, look at the silver chrome sink and gets an idea. He grins to himself.

"Hey, get in here," he calls. "I wanna show you something! Come look."

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe snorts. “I thought you wanted me to sit.”

[salamanca]

"Aaaaah, I changed my mind! Just come in here."

[desperate_times_right]

“Fine, fine.” Chloe meanders her way into the kitchen. “What is it?”

[salamanca]

Immediately, she is greeted by Lalo laughing his ass off and a pressurized jet stream of water squirting directly at her.

[desperate_times_right]

Okay, it is pretty funny objectively, but right now Chloe’s not laughing.

“Ugh! You-” She’s already moving to tackle him.

[salamanca]

You know who is laughing? Lalo, until he's tackled to the ground by Chloe, and yells "Aw, fuck!" at the top of his lungs when her body makes painful contact with his.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe lands on top, but still manages to knock the wind out of herself from the pain. “Shit,” she wheezes through it. “Still hurts.”

[salamanca]

That makes Lalo kick out a pained laugh, laying under her on the kitchen floor. "No shit," he says. He lays back down, head on the floor, and just sighs dramatically. "You gonna let me up?"

[desperate_times_right]

“Depends,” Chloe grunts. “You gonna attack me again?”

She might have to let him go either way since she wants him to cook for her but whatever.

[salamanca]

He isn't, but pride makes Lalo not want to back down so easily. He winces from the pain, her body pressed on top of his, every motion cutting into him like a knife. He consoles himself with the thought that she's gotta be in pain, too. He snorts, deliberately blowing off her question.

"Do you wanna to eat or not?"

She's strong, for a woman. Sturdy. Muscular. He wasn't expecting this much weight on top of him when she first knocked him to the ground.

[desperate_times_right]

Not only is she in pain too, but she’s probably way hungrier than he is.

“Not enough to let you do that to me again! I’d freeze out there like this!”