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]

“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!”

[salamanca]

Lalo laughs from underneath her, wincing in pain. Too bad, he thinks. You started it.

That's not what comes out, though. Between ragged breaths. Through laughter, he looks up at her -- indignant, straddling him. Feeling the burn of her body on his. It's like something takes him over.

But he can't bring himself to give in just yet. He's gotta hold his ground show her whose boss. "I'm not promising you shit," he says. But he's still grinning. "Now let me up."

Please let him up. He doesn't know how long he can hold out. Not because of the pain, he can handle that, but because of something else, something he can't place and doesn't understand that makes him want to obey.

[desperate_times_right]

There's something in his eyes for a moment that makes Chloe want to press harder, see what he’ll do, but she really is hungry.

“Ugh, fine, but if you do that again I'm going to make it hurt so much worse.”

[salamanca]

Lalo's body slackens in relief.

"Okay, okay," he says. "I won't do it again, Your Highness." There's a sarcastic note to his voice, but he's being serious. "I promise." It's strange. Lalo hates to lose, and he hates to feel like he's at anyone's mercy. But this is different. The stakes are low. He's safe. It's... fun?

For a second, he just grins stupidly up at her, and then Tio Hector's mute, saddened face flashes briefly in front of his mind's eye, as he sits hunched over and stunted in his pathetic little wheelchair. Startled by the image but not by the pang of deep grief and guilt it induces, he sits up abruptly, hoping to jostle her off, needing more distraction.

"Alright! Now go sit. So I can cook for you! It's so good, you're gonna faint. Believe it!"

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe yelps at the pain when he shifts under her, rolling off to stand.

“All right, I'm moving! Jesus.” No need to get pushy about it!

She's still hungry though, so she does sit. “I don't think I'll faint, but let's see it.”

Sorr for the wait!

[salamanca]

When she rolls off to stand, Lalo feels a slight pang of disappointment, but he's still grinning. Weird that he'd feel that way. He won, right?

He jumps up. Vibrating in the back of his mind is still Hector, Tuco, and a million strangers he sees no reason he should be forced to give this much of a shit about. Briefly, a memory of flames dances through his mind. He forces it down.

"That's what they'll all say! Trust me, it'll knock your socks off." He stands up, getting a few pans out -- cast iron and a skillet. "We don't have a lot of options here for flavor, so! You gotta make it taste good with technique." He looks over to where Chloe is sitting, and for a moment he just glows. He's so happy to finally be cooking for somebody besides himself!

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe enjoys watching a master at work, and this guy is clearly so happy to be doing stuff for her. Her own head is still ringing with regrets, but maybe this will be a fun night after all.

[salamanca]

Lalo whistles as he gets things ready for her. He wants to make this nice for her. He wants it to be perfect, even. He hasn't been able to cook for anybody but himself since the infamous Mushroom Incident, which he's still trying to live down, at least in his own mind.

She might be surprised to see him go to the fridge, since it doesn't work, but just because there's no electricity doesn't mean it doesn't make great storage. "Here!" Lalo says cheerily, grabbing two limes from the fridge. There's shriveled and old, not in the best condition, but they'll work for his purposes. One for her, one to cook with.

"Here. Peel it. Suck on it," he tells her, almost instructs her, unaware she's been fending off scruvy by eating raw meat in the woods like a freakazoid. He tosses a lime to her. "It'll keep you from getting sick."

Then he returns to his work, humming. You'd never know his beloved uncle's face hasn't once left his mind's eyes from his outward demeanor.

[desperate_times_right]

Suck on it. Chloe rolls her eyes but starts peeling the dry lime anyway. Can't look a gift citrus in the metaphorical mouth at this point.

“I can't believe you've still got fruit,” she says. “I should have been looking in the fridge before.”

[salamanca]

Ohoho! The eyeroll does spark joy inside of him, knowing he annoyed her; he can't pretend otherwise. It shows in his grin. He even sticks his tongue out briefly, before returning to cooking.

He'd been rationing his limes carefully. She's gonna owe him big for giving her his last one. One of his last ones.

He butchers the pheasant quickly, showing off a little as he cuts with theatrical motions. "You ever see anybody do this?" he tells her. "Now watch!" He mixes the now-butchered pheasant in a large bowl - with avocado oil, and scavenged taco seasoning packets. He uses several packets at once; they don't have a lot ot flavor, and he's determined to make this taste like something for her. He tosses the pleasant in the bowl theatrically, too, making it jump a little more so she can see it before he sets it aside.

After washing his hands and grabbing a towel to throw over his shouder, he lets the cast iron skillet heat up. "They key is to add a little oil after it gets hot!" he tells her proudly. He seems so happy to be showing her what he can do.

He continues: "This is where the lime comes in!" as he goes back to the fridge and pulls out a squeeze bottle of honey. He's been scavenging for food, and it shows. Even on aurora nights, he keeps the fridge unplugged.

After all, he figured out it seemed to be the only place Chloe didn't seem to get into.

Soon, he's chopping up the other shriveled lime, squeezing what juice he can from it into the bowl, and whisking it with honey. When they're well-combined, he offers it to her.

"Taste!" he says cheerily, smiling; it's not even a command so much as a hopeful plea. "Tell me if you think it needs anything! I'm making you a sauce for the pheasant."

[desperate_times_right]

Genuinely unfair. Only Chloe is allowed to be annoying that way! Chloe hasn't had fruit since the night Lestat gave her the canned peaches, though, and even a desiccated old lime physically feels good to eat.

She watches the showmanship with no small amount of amusement anyway, and by the time he proffers the spoon for her to taste her mouth is watering at the smell.

“Hey, as long as I'm getting food I don't care.” She leans in to taste it anyway. “Seems good to me. I'm no good at this stuff.”