"Our awareness is all that is alive and maybe sacred in all of us. Everything else about us is dead machinery."
-Kurt Vonnegut
[Closed RP Blog for WC]
Marley Stryder. 36. Special Cases Detective. Profiler.
A Walking Nightmare.
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This is going to be a long post, but I really hope a few of the accounts still following Milo, and anybody who might be looking for a new group to join can take the time to sit down and read it. To those of you still in wickedsrest-rp, you know how much I loved the group, you know how much I loved my character, and how much time I dedicated to this particular hobby. The mods never had any issues with me, I never set out to cause any trouble, and I thoroughly enjoyed the year and 4 months I spent as an active member there. I really don’t need to tell you that, I actually consider most of you friends. That being said, you also know things went downhill very quickly. What you probably aren’t aware of, unless you’re incredibly astute, is the fact that the mods haven’t been entirely honest about why. The members of wickedsrest-rp deserve the truth. If you are still a member of the group then I want to show you who you are really writing with, I want to show you how the mods are ready to turn on somebody when they feel as though their dictatorship-like authority has been threatened.
If you’re seeing this in the tags while searching for a group to join, hopefully this will serve as a warning, and can save you the pain of joining wickedsrest-rp. The sad reality is, your writing isn’t safe there, and no matter how comfortable you are, neither is your place as a player. Since being removed from the group, three separate people have come forward to tell me about the similar experiences they have suffered, and offer me support that I was desperately in need of. A couple of them left while I was still in the group, and thanks to the mods quietly sweeping any issues under the rug, I genuinely believed they had chosen to leave due to personal, and amicable reasons. Others left under more questionable circumstances, but the environment created by the mods encouraged people to keep their heads down, and continue as though nothing unusual could possibly be happening under the surface. This serves as a clever way of ensuring the group continues to listen to the mods. Of course nobody is going to question them, or lose respect for them when, on the surface, everybody appears happy, and content. There is a lot of gaslighting, and manipulation happening to keep up this toxic, and unhealthy charade. Something I am finally able to see.
The purpose of this post is to share the truth about the way the group is run, but unfortunately the name of this group has changed more than once, and I can’t promise the pending reboot won’t be followed by a change in url. If this happens I will do my best to update this post, so that anybody previously unaware of wickedsrest-rp can successfully maintain their distance. But in case I am unable to, I am going to list the names of the current mods, alongside previous names that the group has been known by. If anybody reading this has had negative experiences with any one of the previous incarnations, this is your opportunity to tell your story. I urge you to reblog this, and share your own experience. Not only is it cathartic, there are so many of us, and the more people who come forward, the more this will be taken seriously. We can help to ensure nobody else has to go through what we did.
Current mods: Elliott, Casey, Liz, and Hannah
Previous versions of wickedsrest-rp include:
Into Each Generation, a Buffy RP also known as IEG
Save This City, a Batfamily RP also known as STC
Touch of Strange, the first version of what would become Wicked’s Rest, also known as TOS
Wicked’s Rest, also known as White Crest
A new, and currently unnamed version of Wicked’s Rest, due to open on the 13th of January 2023
It has reached the point now where I don’t care about discretion. I’m going to be honest about what actually happened, and encourage current players to see that, no matter how scary it is to lose a group, no matter how terrifying it is to drop all of your work, and so much of the time spent developing connections, wickedsrest-rp and its mods don’t care about you. Regardless of how they make you feel, they don’t respect you, and if they decide they no longer like you as a player, they will reach for a reason to remove you without any concern for your wellbeing. Please don’t give them the power to continue with this level of toxicity. They can only sustain this behaviour with your support. The group is steadily on a decline, I don’t believe it will last more than a couple of months come January, but those are months of your time that these mods haven’t earned. As painful as it is, please learn from my own mistakes. Let the group go. It will be less painful on your terms than on theirs.
Below is a breakdown of the way I was treated. Screenshots will be provided throughout, but a full compilation can be found by following this link to a google drive, where they have been clearly labelled, and organised in chronological order.
It wasn’t so much a voice as it was just words that existed somewhere in her mind– as if it knew what she needed to hear without her even needing to think it.
Get up. No one’s coming to save you.
Marley felt heavy. So heavy. Her eyes opened, she was sure of it, but she saw nothing, just darkness. Black.
She sat up, slowly. Water dripped from her, body drenched. Her clothes felt heavy. Her sunglasses were missing. She didn’t bother digging through her pockets for them, somehow she just knew they were gone.
The world around Marley was only pitch black up above. Her vision slowly came back to her and in the distance, she saw a treeline. A forest. Behind her, she could hear voices. They were calling to her, but she couldn’t make out what. Everything ached. It’d never felt like this before– then again, every time she’d come here before (and she knew where here was, it still felt familiar and looked familiar, and the big shadow of the tree still loomed despite the actual one being nothing but ash) it’d just been her spirit. This time it was her physical body. She didn’t know much about this plane, but she didn’t think having a physical body on a non-physical plane was anything good.
Her boots sloshed as she stood, stumbling forward. Everything just felt so heavy. How long had she been out? It was impossible to tell. Of course her cellphone was useless, she didn’t think she got cross-dimensional service. And if she did, she’d have to give her service a good review.
She didn’t.
Light flickered behind her, but as a mara, she was drawn to the dark. The darkened forest that almost seemed to beckon to her. The darkened forest whose tree branches reached out for Marley like arms, welcoming her into their hold, as if they offered safety and warmth. Protection.
No, she needed to figure out how to get out of here. She turned her back to the darkness, despite the familiarity it offered her.
The light in front of her was bright. The ground around her began to glow, and footsteps led off into the distance. She stepped forward and more appeared. So she began walking.
And she walked, and she walked, and she walked.
Eventually, the darkness fell away and Marley was walking along a bridge of light, an abyss of fog below her. It looked as if it were trying to climb the walls up to her. Something inside of her told her not to look down. Whatever happened, don’t look down. In the vastness of this canyon of onyx, Marley felt small. Insignificant. But every footstep echoed, and she had to keep going.
Ahead of her, the light narrowed. It was in the shape of a doorway. Marley could hear Erin’s voice through it. Marley needed to hurry back. She needed to get home to Erin.
Her pace increased to a fast walk. Then a light jog. Then a run and a full on sprint. Home, she could go home. She was almost home.
She hadn’t noticed the darkness following behind her. Charred hands reached from the darkness. Dead eyes staring out from it. The path began to twist in front of her, warping as she walked along it. It flipped sideways, then veered up and Marley kept running, she tried to keep running.
But the hands grasped at her body, her arms, her legs. She remembered the monster in the portal. She was afraid to look behind her. It felt the same. She was falling away from the door. She thought she could see a figure in it. She reached for it, little claws, little teeth, tearing at skin.
“Erin!” she called out. She was so close, fingers spread, light passing over the spot where her missing fingers would have been. “Erin!” She needed to get back. “Erin, I’m here! Turn around, I’m here–”
She didn’t finish her sentence. The darkness yanked her back, it always did– she was a mara after all. She lived in the darkness. She was the darkness.
—
Marley fell. She waited for her back to hit something solid, for her spine to snap. For death to curl its cold, bony hands around her heart.
But it never did.
She opened her eyes and the sky was black. Darkness, nothing but darkness. She felt heavy again, drenched, murky. She sat up and down the way, through the darkness even her eyes couldn’t see past, was the edge of a forest. An entrance, the trees growing around it as if it were planned. But there wasn’t a manmade object in sight. Just trees and rubble and Marley.
She stood, slowly, stiffly. The water dripped from her body. She felt heavy. Something in the forest was beckoning her again. It felt compelling. She felt as if she needed to go there. Whatever she was looking for, it was in this forest. She knew it was.
She stepped closer, stopping just shy of the arching branches that proclaimed the entrance. She looked up at it, dripping wet still, and listened for a moment. She didn’t know what she was listening for, but she knew she had to listen.
And she had been right. A voice called to her, a voice from far away. Not in distance, but in memory. A voice that she shouldn’t remember, but did. The sound of it, how sweet it was. How soft. Gentle words spoken with tears.
Marley walked forward into the forest, following the sound of the voice.
—
How long had she been here? How long had she been walking? How long had she been searching?
Where was she again? What was she doing?
Marley stopped. Ahead of her the path wound on, curling around trees and disappearing. Behind her it looked like there was nothing but darkness, so thick. She had to keep going forward.
Things were trying to appear in her head. She couldn’t see them, she’d never been able to see them. Not in her head. Pictures couldn’t form in her mind.
So they started forming in front of her.
She saw a woman, running. She looked scared. Marley always made people afraid, that’s what she did. What she had to do. It was how she fed. But this woman was a different kind of scared. It wasn’t fear for herself.
She glanced over her shoulder as she ran. Marley ran after her, silent.
There was a bundle of cloth in her arms. There was a faint red glow coming from inside the cloth.
Marley realized it was a child.
A man screamed behind them. He sounded afraid, too.
Marley didn’t know why they were afraid. They were mara, it was night– mara couldn’t be killed at night.
But the woman continued to be afraid, even as she reached the shadows and disappeared into them. Marley ran after her, into the darkness. Her footsteps echoed as she found herself in a chamber of nothingness. The floor was a thin layer of water.
Marley looked down into the water at her reflection. Red eyes stared back. A drop fell from Marley’s chin and rippled the surface, and when it settled again, her reflection had changed, ever so slightly. She looked the same but not quite. A smaller chin, thinner shoulders. A happier face. Marley stared down at the woman and the woman stared back at her.
The man called out the woman’s name. Isabella.
Why did Marley know that name? She knew this woman.
The woman in her reflection looked off towards the sound of the man’s voice. The baby was cradled in her arms again. She took off and Marley followed close behind. They ran in unison, Marley above, Isabella below her.
At some point, it switched, and Marley was upside down, looking up at the woman. The woman was holding the child up, she was calling out for someone, she was begging.
Save her, Isabella said, please save my child.
Isabella was looking at her now. Save her, she pleaded, holding the child down towards Marley. Marley reached up to try and take it– she didn’t know how to care for a baby, let alone a child. But she reached nonetheless. She wanted to save this child.
Marley took the child wrapped in the blanket and the world turned upside right, and she was kneeling in the shallow water, looking back down at her reflection. And it was her again, but she was wrapped in that blanket, the one the baby had been in.
Save me, her reflection said, a hand pressed flat to the underside of the water, as if it were a barrier between them. Marley reached down into the water, and it felt heavier than it should have. She fought against it. She pushed through, her upper body now below the surface, below the barrier. She called out but only bubbles left her mouth. She was close, so close.
She wanted to save the child.
She broke all the way through and the world turned upside down again and Marley tumbled.
—
Marley’s eyes opened slowly and she was staring up at a canopy of branches. It was dark.
She sat up slowly, drenched and heavy and tired. Her eyes no longer glowed.
A voice called out to her, and Marley pushed herself up to stand, heading in the direction of the voice.
Heading off to repeat the cycle, again and again and again.
TIMING: Sometime before Marley entered the astral realm
PARTIES: @corpse--diem and @detectivedreameater
SUMMARY: Erin asks Marley for self defense lessons, but Marley is a harsher teacher than she thought, as is life.
CONTENT: Head trauma mention, head injury mention, kidnapping mentions
Erin’s back hit the mat with a sharp thud. Not too hard, because this was only training and Marley wasn’t actually trying to maim her. The true bruise colored her ego and frustration stiffened her bones and forced her to lay out flat where she was. That, and they’d been at this for a while, and more than her bones were starting to get weary.
“I hate that stupid fucking—move,” she grumbled, forcing herself to sit up enough to rest her arms on widespread knees. She had countered the first move like she’d been taught, then the next, but the third that caught her at her ankles tripped her up. Again. She was showing improvement, and she had to allow herself to remember that, but it wasn’t enough. Not enough and not fast enough. She was hopping to her feet again in an instant, the burn of fear fueling another rush of motivation. “I’m good. I can do it again. I’ll get it this time,” she spoke, partially to convince both herself and Marley.
Marley stepped back as Erin thudded to the mat. That was the fifth time she’d flubbed. Marley sighed and let her arms lower from their readied position, taking a moment to wipe her sweaty forehead on her sweatband. She tapped her temple. “You’re up in here, too much. Focusing on winning instead of taking the fight one swing at a time. You gotta concentrate on just one so you can know your next move. Always be one move ahead, remember?”
Marley backed up a little as Erin hopped up again, ready to go. She wondered if she should make them take a break, but remembered Erin had limitless energy. Drawing in a breath, she nodded and lifted her own hands. “From the top,” she said. Her fist flew out, blocked. Swing back of the elbow, blocked. In-step behind Erin’s foot and she twisted. Another thud. Marley winced. Erin wasn’t moving her feet enough. At all. She waited silently for the other woman to get up again.
Erin nodded, taking in a steadying breath, frustration scraping at her lungs. It was still there, of course, but Marley was right, even if stung more than the smack of her skin against the mats. Always be one move ahead. It was that kind of forethought and preparation that kept her ahead of Dale, ahead of Roy. It kept her alive. Plain and simple. She was good at being prepared. Maybe it was that line of thinking, a kind of comfortable confidence, that finally managed to blindside her. Tossed a move at her she never saw coming or even knew to prepare for. That stung even more. “One move ahead. Got it.” She did. And this time would be different. She was sure of it.
She hit the ground with the loudest smack yet, second only to the slap of her hand and “Fuck!” that immediately followed. Why wasn’t she getting this? Her life depended on it and after weeks of training with Marley, she still couldn’t get past something as simple as this. “I’m trying, I swear, I–” Annoyance strangled the rest of the words in her throat. She tried not to look too closely at Marley’s expression, afraid of what she’d find there. Disappointment? Her own frustration? Erin didn’t want to know. She hopped back up, gripping the back of her neck as she tried to reel herself back in. “Can you just show me again? One more time?”
Marley didn’t react as Erin lashed out in frustration, slapping the mat with a curse. She could understand her frustration, how powerless something like that made you feel. She remembered how terrible it’d felt to not be able to do anything after Roy had cracked her skull. How she’d tried to do things she could’ve done a month ago but now took so much energy, so much concentration, and even then, she rarely got it right. Even now, sometimes, when it was a bad day, she still had trouble with simple tasks. She looked down at Erin but noticed how the other woman avoided her gaze and she felt a tinge of shame– not for Erin, for herself. For being a way that apparently made Erin think she’d be mad at her.
“Yeah,” Marley said, walking slowly over to Erin. She prodded her into her stance and stepped behind her, moving her limbs to adjust them into the correct position. “Here–” she walked her slowly through the motion– “you’re body language is predictable. Keep your arms closer to your chest, and watch your opponents hips and shoulders. That’ll let you know what they’re trying to do.” She put her hands on Erin’s hips and twisted them. “And move your feet more, you’re to stationary.”
Erin remained quiet, lasered in on every word, like she was trying to soak in some new meaning or perspective she’d missed in Marley’s explanations previously. She thought this would be easier, or at least, not this hard. Exercise and sports had always come natural to her. Guess four years of high school field hockey didn’t immediately translate into immediate self-defense prowess. But Marley was patient with her, breaking it down in the best way she possibly could. Erin just had to meet her halfway.
“How am I supposed to watch their hips and shoulders when they’re coming at me like a freight train? Or if they’re behind me?” She grumbled, moving her body with Marley’s guidance. Slowly, she repeated the movement, making a point to stay on the balls of her feet. That did feel better. But even with fury magic fueling her limbs to do more, to keep going, her focus was wavering. Every failed attempt chipped away a little more at her resolve. Made the things she was trying not to think about brighter and louder. Remembered how easily she’d been overtaken in that cemetery. That intense fear the moment she knew she’d been defeated. She tensed and stepped away, blinking back some of the loudness slipping through the cracks, concealing it with a roll of her shoulder and stretching her arms. “One more time?” She offered. She was trying. She needed Marley to know that. She’d get this right.
“One thing at a time,” Marley said, stepping away when Erin tensed. She didn’t know if she was doing this right, or if she was getting it entirely wrong. She’d never had to teach someone self-defense like this before. No one was going to be good at it right away, not even Marley was. But Marley had been practicing since she was twelve, since that first hunter had chased her down and raised a knife above her head. She was only alive because a random passerby had seen and tackled the man to the ground. He’d been arrested, but even back then, Marley knew that meant nothing to someone like him. He had known what she was, even when she didn’t. It was in his eyes.
“Once you get the steps down, then we can talk about how to counter ambushes and the like,” she said, shaking her head to clear her mind. Gave a short nod. “One more time.” She pulled up her own stance and watched Erin move. Maybe it was only obvious to Marley because fighting was second hand nature to her now, but Erin’s movements were easy to counter. She didn’t even make it to the second swing before Marley’s palm collided with her sternum and sent her toppling back to the mat. Marley actually winced this time, stepping forward to help her up, but hesitating, wondering if she might take offense to it. She realized in that moment, how far away from Erin she felt. During almost their entire friendship and relationship, Marley felt as if she just always knew how Erin felt, what Erin was thinking. Now, looking at her down on the mat, Marley had no idea.
For all the determination driving her, Erin’s mind wasn’t telling her limbs what to do fast enough. Even the moves she solidly had down escaped her. She could see it happening, see Marley countering her with ease, like she was watching herself in slow-motion. Aware but powerless to stop it. She wasn’t even surprised when she hit the ground again. They should have stopped for the day, she realized that then. But this time she didn’t hop back to her feet. Didn’t curse. Didn’t move other than to sit up, resting her arms on her knees. It was like the blow had knocked everything out of her - everything but the tightness that pulled at her skin. The sensation never left, never let her truly rest. Just kept her scattered and uncomfortable from the moment she returned home. There were no distractions now though. No stupid kid online to investigate, no pond to plan, no work to lose herself in.
She didn’t want to be here anymore. “I think I’m done,” she said after a moment. The silence screamed all of her inadequacies at once. Too loud. Her skin pulled tighter and her chest felt like someone dropped the weights in the other room onto it. She couldn’t meet Marley’s eyes again as she stood, moving to gather their things in a hurry. “Next time,” she said after clearing her throat. “I don’t know what happened there. Having an off day, or something.”
Marley wasn’t sure why, but Erin’s defeatist attitude switched something in her head. An anger roiled through her and she knew it wasn’t at Erin, but it was still an anger. An anger that she’d held onto her entire life. The kind of anger that made her solitary and defensive– and afraid. And maybe Erin wasn’t afraid enough. Maybe she didn’t truly understand the horrors of this world, of the world she was now a part of. Would always be a part of.
“So you’re just giving up?” she said, shrugging her arms as Erin collected their belongings, clearly defeated. “It hasn’t even been an hour.” And it wasn’t as if she had the excuse of being tired. Someone with unlimited energy should have been able to keep going, no matter how they felt inside. Because at some point, she wouldn’t have a choice. At some point, she’d find herself in a situation where she couldn’t stop fighting. Why had she stopped fighting? She shouldn’t have stopped fighting those spellcasters. “Next time might not come, you get that, right?” Fear was overtaking the anger in her voice. “Next time isn’t never guaranteed for people like us. Every time I walk out that door, I reconcile with the fact that I might not walk back through. And when I get in a fight, I don’t give up. I can’t give up, because the other side won’t. They’ll keep going until I’m dead. Is that what you want? To just give up? To just– stop?” Her voice broke. “To just leave me again?”
The annoyance slicing Marley’s words gave Erin immediate halt and the matching unimpressed expression cut right through her, threatening an already slipping self-control. “I’m not giving up. I just–right now, I–” Can’t. She hated that word. Hated applying it to herself. Erin didn’t give up. If there was anything she could say about herself that felt absolutely true, it was that. But that wasn’t true anymore–not really. The memories of that room flooded her. Forced her to remember relief that the promise of death had given her in the moments before the rescue team had arrived. She had accepted defeat. She’d given up. Those spellcasters had done that and there wasn’t an ounce of her that regretted dooming them to endless, agonizing pain for the rest of the fucking lives for it.
The room grew smaller and smaller as Marley continued, the raw emotion in her voice as telling as it was overwhelming. “No!” She immediately yelled and backed up a few steps, shaking her head, frazzled by the onslaught of her words and what they were actually saying. How they illustrated something they should have talked about weeks ago instead of skirting around uncomfortable conversations. How very not okay either of them were. “No,” she repeated, quieter this time, if not angrier. “Don’t you think I know that by now? Or do you think I just got back from an extended vacation in Malibu? I don’t want to leave you, I don’t want to give up, I just–I’m not–” Everything felt tangled inside of her and she didn’t know how to make Marley understand, to make her stop being angry and afraid but she had no clue. No comfort to offer her at that moment. It was too much, too loud, too many horrible thoughts and memories. “I can’t do it,” she spoke after a moment, hot tears streaking relentlessly down her cheeks. The words felt shameful as they shook on their way out. “Not today. Okay? Please?”
“You what?” Marley asked, watching Erin back up and she had to really fight her instincts to advance forward as she did, planting herself where she was on the mat. “You what?” But she got her answer when Erin finally yelled back and maybe now she was getting it, how dire this was. How stupid they’d been. The moment Marley had brought Erin into this world they should’ve been doing this. So much earlier, then maybe this could’ve been prevented. Because this was something Marley could control, she could help Erin– make Erin– get better at defending herself, at fighting. She couldn’t turn back time and she couldn’t make herself get there sooner and she couldn’t make sure Erin was always safe. But she could do this. She could do this.
“No,” Marley said back to her once she’d finished. Her eyes burned. “No I don’t think you do understand. We don’t get a break, Erin. We don’t get to take a day off. That? What happened? That wasn’t even the beginning of it. There’s a reason no one stays human in this place. They either get turned or get dead.” Erin couldn’t possibly understand, she realized. She didn’t grow up this way, she didn’t grow up fearing for her life every day, wondering who she was, what she was, when someone else was going to call her a monster or beat her or try to kill her. “And once you’re in it, there’s no way out except death. There are literally people born with the senses to kill us. Do you get that? Do you get what that means? I can’t– I can’t be there to protect you every time. I can’t– I wasn’t there,” she said and she realized, then, that the burning in her eyes were tears, matching the ones streaming down Erin’s face. “I wasn’t there and I thought you died and I can’t– I can’t go through that again. I can’t.”
The rational part of Erin’s mind knew that Marley was trying to help. The blinding, red anger that radiated from her wasn’t really directed at her. Looking back, she likely saw every mistake they’d made along the way glaring back at them in neon letters. All the things they could’ve done to make Erin more prepared or even just being a little more careful about covering her tracks. Hindsight wouldn’t change any of that now. “I don’t get it? I don’t get it? I can’t touch what you experienced, Marley. I don’t get that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get anything at all.” Her arms crossed against her chest, hugging herself tightly, rigid and stiff as she burned a hole into the bright mats by Marley’s feet with her eyes. “And that’s exactly why I can’t.” Because today was a bad day. Because now she had days where she couldn’t stop the spiraling, the memories leaking in without her permission, and the way it could paralyze her or turn her into this.
There it was. Marley still blamed herself for what had happened. The yelling and the anger made sense now. Her heart ached at the sight–the fear, the way she grieved her even now that she was back. Erin had never been good at watching her loved ones cry. Especially not Marley, who very rarely allowed herself to be seen so vulnerable like this. “You can’t always protect me, Marley. This wasn’t your fault. I chose this. Okay? This was my choice. Me. I knew the risks.” Not this one in particular, though if she’d thought a little bit more about what she used to do for the supernatural black market, maybe she should have. She swallowed back a hard lump, shaking her head at the ground, wishing she knew how to assure or comfort her. “There wasn’t anything you could have done. They were just–they were smarter, better, or whatever. I really need you to understand that.”
Marley did blame herself, though. Of course she did. She shouldn’t have let Erin go to the cemetery alone. She shouldn’t have just waited at the restaurant for her. She shouldn’t have just left her to get attacked. Vulnerable. She’d gotten complacent, thinking that Erin’s immortality meant invulnerability, but that wasn’t true. She was just as susceptible to death as the rest of them. Death at the hands of cruelty. And it wasn’t even hunters. It was people who were supposed to be like them. Spellcasters, though. They were human. Too human. They’d never understand. She wondered if Erin really did understand. “You don’t know the risks, though,” she said finally, her voice strained as she tried to keep a composure that she’d lost the day Erin went missing. “You don’t know. That was just the start. Whatever you’ve seen over the past two years– that was just the tip of the iceberg. Did you ever expect that? To be– to– spellcasters, of all people? I barely expected that and I’ve dealt with– I knew people like that existed.” She should’ve known better. How did she not know?
“That’s not true!” she asserted, though she looked nothing but sure. “I should’ve been– I shouldn’t have left you alone. Or-or been fooled by– I should’ve known. I should’ve gotten there earlier. I just– I didn’t think– I sat in that parking lot while you were being– I did nothing.” She could feel herself losing it, losing track of her thoughts, her words, her meaning. Her head hurt but all she could think about was how much she could’ve done to prevent what happened and how she’d done nothing. She’d let Erin suffer for so long because she’d been fooled by a simple glamor spell. “I took too long. I should’ve found you earlier. That’s my job. I find people. I find bad people and I stop them and I couldn’t even do that!”
There was always going to be something they weren’t expecting though, wasn’t there? There were no humans, no supernaturals, no one that they could trust completely. There was no trust that Erin was willing to divulge to anyone unearned. Not anymore, not for anything. “Of course I didn’t. I don’t know what to expect from day to day, anytime I step foot outside–even staying inside isn’t safe. I don’t know what’ll happen but I know that.” They were never safe. That’s what the last two years had proven to her beyond anything. “But I’m doing what I can, right? I’m not going to just suddenly be some fighting machine overnight, you know that too, right? I’m–terrified most of the time but I’m trying not to be. I can’t live like that. Neither of us can.”
Erin shook her head softly, stepping towards Marley, eyes softening as she reached for her without much thought. Just knew that the pain in her eyes was palpable and that she wanted it to stop, or least provide some kind of balm for the guilt tearing through her. Erin flinched only slightly. “There was nothing you could do.” She shrugged slightly, voice softening. “I’m learning. I let my guard down. I grew comfortable and they took advantage.” Her hand raised to Marley’s jaw, forcing her to look her in the eyes, her grip soft but firm. “You found me. You shouldn’t have but you did and I’m alive here and now, telling you that you’re being ridiculous and way too hard on yourself, because of you.”
“That– that’s my fault, too. When you decided– the moment you wanted to take that offer, I should’ve started preparing you. Maybe even before. I thought– with Roy gone–” Marley couldn’t gather a single thought together enough to get a full sentence out. She knew she was having a nervous breakdown but she couldn’t seem to stop it. It was like watching a train wreck. She knew it was going to happen but she was powerless to stop it. “I got too complacent,” she managed to say and she barely realized she was shaking, “I should’ve known better. I’ve been in this my whole life, and I should’ve known better.” It was easier to blame herself for all of this– if it was her fault then she could fix it. If she just got better, did better, then this wouldn’t happen again. But if this was just something out of their control, something that no one could really prepare for, then it could happen again.
Erin had moved closer when Marley’s eyesight focused again and there was a hand on her face and she felt frozen. If there really was nothing she could’ve done, then she couldn’t do anything when it happened again. She didn’t want that to be true. She didn’t want to feel so helplessly powerless. “Of course I found you,” she said without thinking, “I would never stop looking. Never. I shouldn’t have just given up. I should’ve looked sooner. Even if you were–” she couldn’t say the word. She didn’t want to say the word. Marley had never imagined she’d fear someone else’s death. It was supposed to be her, first. She was the monster. She was the one that preyed on others. She was the one people were supposed to hate. “I can’t– I can’t accept that. If it was– if there was nothing I– I can’t. I have to– I should’ve been faster. I was late. I shouldn’t have been–” She reached out to curl her hand into Erin’s shirt, feeling her solid and real and there. Sometimes, she would wake up in the middle of the night and hurriedly reach out to feel for Erin, suddenly afraid she was gone again, or that it had all just been a hallucination that she was back. This couldn’t be a hallucination, it felt too real. Too raw. “I thought you were dead for so long,” she finally said, leaning forward as she wrapped her arms around Erin and squeezed and dug her hands into cloth, needing to feel the weight of her body to convince herself this was real. “I thought I’d never see you again. I thought it was my fault.”
It didn’t seem like anything Erin had to say was helping. Marley was determined and steadfast in the idea that this was somehow her fault. That no matter what, there was something she should have done or should have known that would have kept Erin safe. Erin knew that she’d become complacent, knew that she had stopped looking for red flags or eyes that lingered too long. The spellcasters hadn’t been extraordinarily smart or outstandingly stealthy. They were cunning and sly but they weren’t any stronger than anyone they’d come up against before. In this instance, they were just… better. And that was a pill she was still trying to swallow herself. And it was a lesson Marley didn’t seem even a little bit close to accepting. It seemed like it would break her first.
“Hey, stop it,” she tried shushing her quietly, pulling her close when Marley desperately clung to her. Squeezed her back as tightly as she could, even if their skin was still clammy and sweaty from the workout Marley had tortured her through. It was calming all the same and the hiccup in her chest settled, untensing just slightly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered against her shoulder after a long moment. She didn’t know what else to say to make this better. To make Marley feel better. Not when she felt the storm surging and raging through her own insides. She shook her head adamantly, pulling away enough to press her forehead to hers, her hand running softly along her cheek. “It’s not your fault. It was never your fault. Not once. Not for even a second.” She’d repeat it forever if she had to. As many times as needed until it took. She paused, trying to find her gaze, the ache in her chest threatening to choke off her own words. “I’m here. I’m right here. I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”
Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Marley wanted to say, but she couldn’t really talk anymore. The physicality of the embrace was overwhelming in a way that Marley didn’t understand. It made her head feel light and the world started fading away behind Erin. She was breathing too heavy, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. “But I– I was supposed to- I’m supposed to protect you, and I–” she didn’t. She couldn’t. Her body felt heavy and she sank them both down to the floor, to her knees, clinging to Erin as if letting her go meant she’d disappear again. She’d never had people she cared about– loved– so much it hurt to think of their loss. And now she had several. Erin, Cass…fuck it, even Emilio. It wouldn’t be as devastating but she suddenly found the thought of his absence painful. She wasn’t built to feel this way.
“How do you know that?” she asked suddenly, quietly, fighting the tightness of her chest. “How do you know you’re not going to disappear again? You can’t possibly know that.” All Marley saw, everyday, was people going missing. Was people being ripped away from their loved ones. They rarely got answers. The world was unjust in that way. Marley wondered if Erin had died in that prison, would she have gotten an answer as to what had happened? She’d dealt with the unknown her whole life, and yet, sitting here on this mat, she found she feared it now more than anything. “I’m not good at this,” she choked out, “I can’t handle anymore loss.”
Marley was falling apart and Erin found quickly there wasn’t much she could do right now but be there to catch her. She always would, as long as she had any say in it. The stress of her “death” and everything came after had caught up to her, it seemed. They hadn’t done much in the way of coping since she’d returned. Marley watched over her like a hawk and when things got too real or too difficult to talk about, they’d both cowardly resort to distractions of any kind. And this was the result. They should’ve handled it better and she cursed herself for not just letting the emotional duress wreak havoc on them both sooner. Maybe then they wouldn’t be holding each other in the middle of an empty gym like their lives depended on it. But she couldn’t know if it’d hurt as much as it did either way. She sank down to her knees, holding onto her just as tightly, letting her have this now. To let her get out as much of this as she could. She pressed her cheek against the side of her head, keeping her voice as soft as possible. “You don’t want to hear this but you can’t always protect me, Marley. You’re going to have to accept that. You can’t keep carrying on like this. I won’t let you.”
She supposed she couldn’t make good on that promise but it was still one that she intended to keep, as long as she possibly could. Still, she remained silent instead, wondering how long she’d be able to keep up the small bit of composure she’d regained at the sound of Marley’s very raw fear and pain. It was harder than she could’ve imagined. She cleared her throat and steeled herself a moment, shaking her head at Marley’s last words. “Yes. You can,” she paused, running her fingers down her back soothingly, trying to make her next words as soft but firm as she possible could. “That’s part of the risk right? Loss. It’s going to happen in some way, one day or another, so you’re going to have to. And you’re so much stronger than you think you are. I know that for a fact.”
Erin was right, Marley didn’t want to hear that. Her entire life had been spent hurting people, she’d thought that now, finally, she could protect someone instead. But if she couldn’t protect Erin, how was she supposed to protect Cass? How was she supposed to protect anyone? Maybe she just wasn’t built to do that. Maybe she was just supposed to hurt. She didn’t want that, though. She didn’t want that at all. Risk, that’s what it was. Risk. Marley didn’t take risks with other people, only herself. But this? This was a risk to both. If Erin got hurt, so did Marley. If Erin was upset, so was Marley. She hadn’t really thought about it like that before. Now she couldn’t stop. “It’s supposed to be me first,” she finally said, quietly. “It’s not– it wasn’t supposed to be you.” And she could hear the pain in Erin’s voice, too. She could hear her trying to remain strong and she shouldn’t have to the strong one here, Marley wasn’t the one who was kidnapped and tortured for weeks. Clenching her teeth, she sat back and wiped the back of her arm over her face. Breathed in deep and held it for a moment. “I won’t–” a pause, “I’ll do everything I can to protect you. Even if– even if I can’t– from everything.”
Erin didn’t know what the array of emotions that was crossing Marley’s features at the moment, only that she didn’t like it, and judging from what she saw, she could bet Marley didn’t either. It was quiet for some time though, which only served to help her calm herself down enough to be a sturdier anchor for Marley, yet rustle up her anxieties even further somehow. “Oh,” she scoffed, more lighthearted than she meant. “So you were betting and hoping only I got to deal with the trauma of losing someone I love?”
She wasn’t ready for Marley to pull away, and it might have been silly, but she hadn’t been ready to let her go. Maybe Marley wasn’t the only one who’d gotten a little clingy since her return. She stayed close though, resting a hand against her thigh, a gentle, unconscious reminder that she was still with her. Still here. “I know you will. Even if I wish you wouldn’t sometimes. You’re annoying and stubborn like that.” There was the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. She grabbed the hand that was wiping her tears away gently away from her face, holding her hand tightly. “And you know I’m going to do the same, right? Always.”
Marley shook her head. “I didn’t– mean it like that. That’s not what I–” She didn’t know how to explain it, and when Erin put it that way, it sounded bad. She hadn’t meant for it to sound bad. She tried her best to keep Erin’s gaze, taking deep breaths to keep herself from breaking down again. She couldn’t help but move her face into Erin’s touch, squeezing her hand back. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “I– pushed too hard. I just–” Again, she didn’t really know how to explain it, but thinking about Erin actually having the skill to defend herself made her feel better. Knowing she could fight someone off next time. It gave her comfort. Marley shook her head a little. “Don’t– I–” she didn’t want Erin to put herself between Marley and harm. Especially not anymore. Wasn’t that why her head was the way it was? Because Marley would’ve rather died than had to watch Erin die? Had she really loved her that long? She shook her head again. “I’m not used to this. Having someone to– I’m not used to this.”
Erin still wasn’t quite sure what she meant–she could understand the assumption of course. Immortality ran through her veins and when it came down to it, it was true that Erin would probably outlive Marley barring any earnest attempts on her life and a dash of dumb luck. That was only a gamble though. Maybe it had less to do with experiencing that pain and more about knowing that she had done everything she could to keep someone she loved alive. That Erin could understand. After a few moments. she was relieved to see her breaths drawing in and out in a more normal pattern. She still wasn’t quite where Erin would be comfortable with but progress was progress, she supposed, and Marley was long overdue for a show of emotions like this. “I know–I know. You don’t have have to be sorry. You just want me safe,” she murmured knowingly after a quiet moment, running her thumb over Marley’s fingers. There was nothing more she wanted for Marley either, no matter how Marley felt about it. “Used to what?”
“To– to this! To– you. And-And Cass and people. Having people. Being terrified for someone else. That’s not– I don’t know how to do that. This. I’m– I don’t think I was built for this.” Marley didn’t really know how to explain it, she didn’t have the right words, the right knowledge, the right emotions. No one had taught her or told her or helped her understand. “You– when you’re hurt– when you hurt, I hurt. It was– It was so physically painful knowing you were out there, suffering, and that I couldn’t do anything about it. That you were just– that you could’ve just died and I might have never known where you were and I just keep thinking if I was better, if I had just helped you sooner or prepared you for this life. I–” Her shoulders slumped. “I would’ve rather died than felt that way, when you were missing, when I thought you were–” God, it’d been so painful. Sometimes it still hurt. It hurt all the time, actually. Was this how Erin had felt? When Marley was in that portal? Had she felt like someone was ripping her heart out constantly? Could she not breathe? Eat? Sleep? Think? Marley just shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
There wasn’t a day that went by in that room that Erin hadn’t feared that same thought. That she’d disappear into this silent, whimper of a death and that no one would have been any wiser of their get-rich quick scheme. The way the spellcasters had covered up their tracks, Erin hated to admit, had been fairly impressive. But her pain was different from Marley’s. She didn’t have to find the beheaded corpse of her girlfriend on their anniversary or grieve for her, having to pick up the pieces of her life in the time after. She didn’t have to endure the whiplash of discovering she’d been alive and realizing how much time had been wasted because of their manipulations. The fact that it’d taken this long for the weight of it all to crash down on her only spoke to Marley’s resilience.
“Please don’t be sorry. I don’t know how to convince you it wasn’t your fault, Marley. You’ve done everything in your power to keep me safe and alive. And you have. Time and time again, year after year. Even at your own detriment.” She swallowed thickly, and though her voice lowered almost to a whisper, there was absolutely no doubt in her words. “I really don’t think you understand that you’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.” Her eyes flickered upwards where she knew a scar lay concealed by thick black hair. Not a day went by that she didn’t think about the sacrifice Marley had been ready to make and the burden that she had to carry for those efforts. For her. It was as overwhelmingly humbling as it was horrifying. It still was. Even if it wasn’t exactly the same, guilt was something Erin could understand. She squeezed her hand tighter, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her as she met her bleary eyes with her own. “So I’m here. Okay? I’m here. And if I have to spend every day that we have together to convince you of that, and that what happened wasn’t your fault, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
The weight of everything had felt like a blanket settled on Marley’s shoulders, growing heavier and heavier the more she tried to carry. It was making her slouch, slump over in defeat, exhaustion. She just wanted to sleep. To close her eyes and open them to a better world, where she didn’t hurt, where the people she cared for didn’t hurt. Marley felt so heavy she didn’t know how to hold herself up anymore. She didn’t know how to hold Erin up anymore. She’d always been strong and stoic. She’d had to be. She had no other choice. But now, now she didn’t have to be. She wasn’t alone. There were other people that wanted to carry the weight with her. Marley knew everything Erin was saying was true, so why couldn’t she believe it herself? “It wasn’t enough, though,” she muttered, “it was never enough.” Even with Roy, even when she’d shoved Erin out of the way and felt her skull crack, it hadn’t been enough. She drew in a breath. She’d do better next time. She’d do better. “Okay,” she relented, finally looking back up at Erin. “I– I’ll try and stop. Try and…not blame myself.”
Erin believed that Marley would try, even if it didn’t settle the lingering unease swarming in her gut. “You understand why it’s not your fault either, right?” She asked, doing her best not to sound condescending but it was something she needed to hear Marley say. Even if she didn’t believe them now. That’s usually how these things work, she’d learned, and it would take time to break down a notion she believed so deeply that it’d brought her to the floor in tears. “If you’re going to try, that’s the most important part. It starts with that.” She paused again, searching Marley’s features for the signs that she did. “Why wasn’t it your fault?”
This really shouldn’t have been this hard, Marley supposed. But it was. It caught in her throat like a rock. “I– I just–” She did understand. She understood the helplessness of the situation and she wished she didn’t. She wished that there had been some way for her to stop it from happening, she wished it had been her fault. At least that was fixable. At least she could prepare for that. But this? Leaving it all up to chance? “There was nothing I could’ve done,” she finally choked out, “I couldn’t have possibly known.” But she could’ve. She should’ve. No, she said she’d try and so she’d try. She clenched her eyes shut before opening them again. “I can’t control everything that happens.”
Erin nodded along as Marley stuttered through the difficult admission. It would get easier–at least she hoped–and she could at least feel herself untense a little bit after they’d been said. “Good–that’s good.” she said, offering a small, hopeful smile at the other woman. Brushed her thumb along a drying tear across her cheek. “Thank you. For that and–for everything. All of it,” she scrunched her eyebrows together, unsure if she’d ever actually uttered the words after Marley had finally brought her home. She glanced down at their hands, watching as their fingers intertwined. “I meant it, and maybe it’ll help with you sorting it out, I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be here without you.”
Marley let herself be fussed over, even if it made her skin crawl and her stomach churn a little. She just wasn’t used to any of this. Caring or being cared for or loving. Especially not loving. Worrying over someone else. Worrying about them getting hurt or dying. She really was trying her hardest, but the closest thing she’d ever had to family had cast her out the moment she didn’t comply with their rules and she’d been okay on her own for so long. Or maybe she hadn’t been okay and she just hadn’t known that. She was still trying to figure that part out. “You don’t have to thank me,” she said quietly, shaking her head, “you never have to thank me. Just– stay here.” She looked up at Erin with weary eyes. “Stay alive.”
[pm] [del: I'm sorry. If I did something or I said something and that's why you disappeared, I'm really sorry. Please, I just-] [del: I really need you to come back. I keep messing up and messing up and messing up and there's no one to-] [del: Where did you go? When are you coming back? I need you here. I really do.] I miss you. Please be okay.
[pm] Emilio’s pissed about the other night, which I’m sure you’re aware of. Can’t really blame the guy. Please tell me you’re going to talk to him or that you already have?
Sometimes, Marley found herself in places she didn’t remember going to. Even a year later, and she still found it hard to accept the fact that her mind wasn’t always hers. That sometimes her mind got lost without her.
That was the case at the moment, as she looked around and found herself in an unfamiliar place.
As she looked around, she had to wonder what had happened to bring her here. It was unfamiliar, but it wasn’t at the same time. A strange deja vu that also felt familiar. Then again, that was the definition of deja vu, wasn’t it?
Whatever it was, it wasn’t the point right now.
Marley looked around her surroundings and found the same few feet of tree and bushes and vines and dead leaves. The afternoon sun shone through the treetops, letting shadows dance across the forest floor, flickering in and out ot Marley’s vision, making her weariness ebb and flow.
She didn’t know what to do. This hadn’t happened in a while and as she glanced over her shoulder, she wondered where she’d been before coming here. She clenched her jaw and fists and drew in a breath, trying to calm herself. How many more times was this going to happen? How much longer could she stand doing this? Which time would be the last?
She wanted to turn to leave, but something was holding her feet in place. She was here for a reason. If only she knew what reason that was. A breeze rustled through the treetops and Marley’s eyes, hidden behind darkened lenses, turned upward. The shadows circled above her in a way that drew her attention back down, following the beam of light. It cascaded down into the grove and perfectly highlighted a bright red, sparkling object.
A fruit.
It lay in front of a pile of ash that had been sifted and carried apart by the wind.
Marley found herself standing in front of it without a second thought, reaching down with her switchblade to carve out a piece. The fruit was larger than her head, and perfectly ripe still. Marley never felt the compulsion to eat, but she couldn’t deny the fact that she was salivating for this fruit. She needed to eat this fruit, just as much as she needed to eat fear. Maybe even more.
She took one bite and the sweet, tart juice of the fruit filled her mouth. She thought about how strange it was, her sense of taste. How much she loved sweet things. Her disdain for salt. Her apathy for savory. How different her biology was from a human’s. Blue blood. Red eyes. Black soul.
So enraptured, she barely noticed the rest of the fruit sour and rot, disappearing in a puddle of goo on the ground.
It started as a snapping noise. Marley paused mid bite and glanced around but nothing in the area had changed.
At least, nothing she could see.
Before she had time to register anything, the world around her warped. The grove twisted, color dissipated, and the ground fell out from beneath her feet. With a forceful yank, Marley was thrown from her feet into the twisting void. As her body flew through the hole, a thunderous crack echoed through the forest. Trees shook, animals fled, and a shockwave was felt through the town.
Marley didn’t even scream.
And as she went in, something else went out. Energy and entities and everything else in between. Creatures that shouldn’t exist on the earthly plane, crawling like dripping shadows through the crack in reality.
Marley was floating. No, she was falling. Sinking. Bubbles flew from her mouth and rose up. Her back hit the ground and she lay, suspended, staring up at a sunless sky. The world was shifting around her. She could see the glow of her red eye illuminating the space in front of her. The shadow of a tree was a blackened, charred outline above her.
[pm] The point is to do what’s right. I killed someone. So I reported it. That’s– I can’t fucking do anything about the others. I don’t even know– But I can report this. She was human when– well she looked human when I shot her. Why the fuck should I just let that lie? Get away with it? I murdered someone. I shouldn’t just be able to walk away from that like nothing fucking happened. Not again. I’m not a good person, fine, that ship fucking sailed a long time ago. I can still fucking try to be less of a piece of shit, though.
So why the fuck did you decide today was the day not to do your job?
[pm] I thought you knew by now that there is no right and wrong in our world. There’s only survive. What good would it do to put you in jail? You really wanna throw your life away and rot in a prison cell because halfway through your miserable life you decided to turn yourself because one time, one person looked human while you killed them. What fucking good would that do?
I am doing my job, you asshole. If this gets investigated in any way, someone’s going to figure out something isn’t right and then I’ll be the one having to explain. Don’t consider this a favor and don’t try it again or I’ll be your judge, jury and executioner prosecutor.
[pm] I really don’t like the sound of It’s fine. Just–try to find a road or a lamp post to hang out near until I can get you, okay?
Yeah, sure, of course. I’m coming to get you first though. Where did you ditch him? Is he in danger? Can you just tell me everything I need to know so I can stop playing twenty questions I swear to
[pm] Looks like Macintyre and 3rd is the closest cross street. There’s a bench.
I don’t know. Maybe. Some guy’s house we broke into.
TIMING: current
PARTIES: @detectivedreameater & @monstersfear
SUMMARY: emilio brings marley along to play lookout for him on a case. it turns out good help is hard to find.
CONTENT: head trauma
It was rare for Emilio to enlist help on a case. If asked, he’d say it was because it was rare for him to need help on a case, but in reality? Pride had a hell of a lot more to do with it than he’d readily admit. But sometimes, it was utterly unavoidable. This just happened to be one of those times.
It was a two person job. There was no way around that. The guy Emilio was looking into had the potential to be dangerous if what the client who’d hired Axis Investigations said was true. It was the man’s business partner who’d shown up at Emilio’s door, frazzled and terrified. She suspected him of embezzling funds, and when the company’s secretary disappeared into thin air a week before… The client feared the worst. The police, who were of the belief that the woman was attempting to frame her partner in a last-ditch attempt to save her failing business with the secretary being in on it, were no help at all.
Which brought Emilio here, to the man’s home office. If his partner was right, there would be evidence on his computer, in his desk, somewhere in this room. And Emilio was a proud man, but he liked to think he wasn’t a stupid one. He needed someone to watch his back on this one, someone to make sure the man he was investigating — a man who might very well be a murderer, if his business partner’s suspicions about the secretary’s whereabouts were correct — didn’t catch him in the act here. And after everything? There were few people he’d trust to watch his back more than Marley.
The locked door sprung open beneath his hands, and Emilio slipped his lockpick kit back into his jacket pocket and stepped aside, gesturing for Marley to enter the office ahead of him. “The window looks out to the street,” he told her. “Our guy drives a silver pickup. You see him coming, we need to get out. If he catches us in here, our best case scenario is him calling the cops.” The worst case was things getting a whole lot messier. “I might need your help with the computer, too, but I’m checking the desk first. Let me know if you see anything suspicious, feel anything off.”
Marley liked to pretend like she wasn’t a trustworthy person. But the honest truth was that, if you had her trust, you had her loyalty. She couldn’t really help it. Growing up, she’d never really had people– friends, family, even just acquaintances she could turn to. So now, like an idiot, when Marley found people, she attached herself to them rather quickly. Though she’d never admit that outloud. She didn’t need help and she didn’t need to work with Emilio, but she could easily write it off as convenient. Plus, there’s no reason for one small town to have two PIs, especially of those PIs were friends. Or something like friends. Honestly, Marley wasn’t sure what to call Emilio, other than “boss” at the moment. They’d slept together more than once and though it hadn’t meant anything, it meant something. Marley didn’t know how to tell Erin, either. She kinda hoped they could all just go on pretending it never happened, really. Wouldn’t that be convenient.
She shuffled from foot to foot as she waited for Emilio to pick the lock, deciding it best to not tell him she could turn intangible and slip through the door to unlock it if he wanted. It seemed like he needed this, so she’d give it to him. “Man, you think a guy who has more money would be more organized,” she grumbled, toeing a bag that was on the ground, spilled contents spewing from the open zipper pocket. It looked like gym gear. She made her way over to the window and glanced out, noting the streets, the back alley, and the parking lot around the side, before turning to look back at Emilio. “If you just push the button, once the green light comes up, you know you’ve turned the computer on,” she chided with a half smirk. “Make sure it’s plugged in, too.”
“Guys want money so they don’t have to be organized,” Emilio shot back, rolling his eyes with a quiet huff of a laugh at Marley’s reaction to the inside of the man’s apartment. It was a damn mess, that much was certain. Gym bag on the floor, dishes in the sink, empty bottles and paper plates on the table in front of the couch. This was the kind of scene that could either mean good things or bad things for an investigation. A messy home meant comfort, meant someone didn’t feel like they had to hide. But it also meant disorganization. It was human nature to have a place for everything. The difference was that, with people whose homes looked like this, that ‘place’ was somewhere that made no sense to anyone other than the guy who put it there.
Emilio gave Marley a look as she settled in by the window and though he put on a decent show, there was no heat behind the glare. There weren’t many people he’d let into his business, especially not since the office of said business was a few feet away from where he slept. But… Marley had proven herself trustworthy plenty of times now. And she’d seen where he slept, anyway, even if they’d agreed to pretend she hadn’t. She was a good person to have onside. That didn’t make her jokes funny. “Ha ha,” he said dryly, lazily flipping her off as he bent over the desk drawers. “If this PI thing doesn’t suit, you’ve got a real future in standup. I can see it now. You’d have dozens of fans.” He opened the drawer as he spoke, rifling around and flipping through the papers in the desk.
“Thought guys wanted more money cause they think that makes ‘em hot?” Marley joked, despite her tone not changing at all. Somehow, she knew Emilio would get it. He talked the same way. Little fluctuation in his tone. Low, grumbly. Just like her. She cleared her throat a little. She shoved her way through the messy apartment, toeing things aside as she cleared a path to the window, rolling her eyes at Emilio’s clearly unsuccessful glare. “You should work on that,” she stated, “I could give you a few tips, if you want. Really get that good broody glare goin’. Women go crazy for it, think it makes you mysterious.” A pause. “Men, too.”
She smirked as he flipped her off. “Cute,” she noted, taking another glance outside to make sure the coast was clear. For a moment, just a tiny moment, she thought she saw someone else in the reflection, turning quickly to face the still empty room. Trick of the light, she decided. Must’ve been. “How do you know I’m not already a standup comedian?” she said, raising a brow. “Maybe I have an entire underground life no one knows about where I’m an amazing comedian and have thousands of fans and a YouTube channel.”
“Most of ‘em assume they already are,” Emilio replied with an easy shrug. He’d never really understood people. He hadn’t been taught to. Hunters didn’t tend to zero in on the social skills aspect of raising children, and his parents had been no different. You didn’t need to understand people to protect them from the things that went bump in the night. Sometimes, it was easier if you didn’t. But… since that first night, with the chimera and the fire and the aftermath that followed, Marley had been easy for him to understand. It was a thing that went both ways, he figured. And as much as that thought made him itch, there were worse people to understand and be understood by. “I don’t need tips. I can get people going crazy for me just fine without your help, you know. Been doing it a while now.” For better or worse, if the faint, mostly-healed knife wound Levi left on his chest had anything to say about it.
Still rifling through desk drawers, Emilio snorted. “When would you have time to build up a secret career as a standup comedian? Between doing my legwork and rescuing furies, I think you stay pretty booked.” He pulled out a file, opening it and leafing through it briefly before making a face and setting it aside. Not what they were after. “Besides, there’s no way in hell you’d get more than two dozen followers.” As if Emilio, of all people, knew what earned a person a large online following. “How we looking on the street? Coast still clear?”
Marley scoffed. “Typical men,” she grumbled. Marley had spent almost the entirety of her life on the outside of people’s culture. She watched them from a distance, observed them, tried her best to understand them, to understand why she never fit in. Why no one wanted her. Why no one loved her. Until she’d become cold, jaded, angry. She hated them and she wanted nothing to do with them. But then she’d been scorned by her own people, the only people who were just like her, who could teach her, help her, love her. And she’d had nowhere to go. So, she’d just left. She saw injustices in the world that no one else did, and she knew she was the one who had to fix them. “You must be a real people person,” she said sarcastically, “if you’ve got them goin’ crazy for you all the time.”
Marley rolled her eyes. “You do know mara basically don’t sleep, right? And I could totally get a huge ass following if I wanted. Probably just from my looks alone, if I’m being honest.” She smirked a little and looked back out the window, but the face that had been there before was back. And there were more. Marley heard screams of anguish in her head. But she was frozen to her spot, as she watched the people, consumed with flames, disintegrate, only to be brought back and torn apart again. And again. She couldn’t get it out of her head. She stumbled back, finally able to shut her eyes, bumping into the desk. The cup of pens rocked and tumbled off the desk. Outside, a car pulled around the corner and into the garage below them.
“Hey, no arguments from me.” People were a complicated, nonsensical kind of thing, and Emilio’s relationship with them as a whole tended to reflect that. As a hunter, it was his duty, his job, his fucking destiny to die protecting them. It was a legacy he’d been marching towards since long before the massacre in Etla, and he’d never tried to fight against it. He’d die, one day, to keep people safe. And he still fucking hated people. They were annoying, they were stupid, they got on his damn nerves. It didn’t have to make sense, he figured. It was just the way things were. He huffed a quiet laugh at Marley’s statement, nodding his head. “Yeah, yeah. You got me. Love people.” She’d probably find the absurdity of it funny enough.
As he continued his snooping, Emilio looked up just long enough to roll his eyes at her. “Don’t go getting a big head,” he advised, pointing towards her with the folder he’d just pulled from the drawer. He opened it, flicking through the papers. “Jesus,” he muttered under his breath. This guy had his fingers in a lot of shady pies. Not just embezzling funds and disappearing secretaries — there was evidence here of far worse. It wasn’t exactly what the client was looking for, but Emilio snapped a few photos of it all the same. He turned to say something to Marley, only to find her frozen where she stood. “Marley? Hey, Stryder, what —” She stumbled back, knocking into the desk and spilling pens onto the floor. Emilio stumbled gracelessly to his feet, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, what the hell’s going on with you? There somebody out there?” The street outside was empty. Emilio had no way of knowing about the car that had parked in the garage, of course — all evidence that it had been there was long gone now. “Snap out of it. This guy could be back any second, and if he’s half as bad as he’s looking right now, that’ll be bad news for us. Okay?”
Marley didn’t hear Emilio at first, under the wails of the tortured. She put her hands over her ears in an attempt to block it out, but the noise, she found, was coming from inside her head, inside her own mind. “It won’t stop,” she said through gritted teeth, shaking her head. “It won’t–” but as fast as it had come, suddenly it stopped and Marley was left standing in front of Emilio, his hands on her shoulders, looking at her with concern. She didn’t like that look. She shook his arms off and shook her head in turn, moving away from him towards the door. “Sorry, my head just– I’ve got a headache,” she grumbled, moving to open the door when she heard footsteps down the hall. She froze. Someone was there.
Turning back to Emilio, she put up the universal sign for ‘Shut The Fuck Up” as she moved towards him. “Someone’s here,” she hissed, looking around for somewhere to hide. There. She grabbed his arm and yanked him towards what looked like a door to another room, only to find that it was a coat closet. Whatever. This would have to do. She crowded inside next to him and shut the door. God damn daylight savings. If that stupid thing didn’t exist, it would’ve been nighttime already, and Marley could’ve so easily slipped out of this situation. Instead, she was crammed in a closet with a man that she didn’t quite know how to be around completely yet.
There was definitely something odd going on with Marley. She had her hands over her ears, was muttering and grumbling and looking generally disturbed and uncomfortable. And Emilio knew that whatever it was, it was probably big and bad and shitty, because it always was. But right now, in this moment? It wasn’t something they had time for. He eyed her carefully as she claimed it was a headache, knowing it was a lie but unwilling to call her out on it in the moment. After a beat, he nodded. “Just — push it to the side or something.” It was the kind of advice his father probably would have given him. Shove whatever was bothering you, be it physical, mental, or emotional, under the rug and move along. He’d never thought it was bad advice before.
But then, a door slammed. The sound was muffled, the kind of thing he wouldn’t have been able to pick up without the enhanced hearing granted to him by the slayer blood in his veins, and he cursed under his breath as Marley pulled him into a closet. “You were supposed to be watching out the window,” he hissed, anger burning in his eyes. “You were supposed to warn me when he was coming. We — We could have been out of here, Stryder, and you —” He cut himself off, anger threatening to make his voice louder than it needed to be, louder than it would be safe to be. He closed his eyes, teeth clenched together so tightly it hurt as he attempted to take a steadying breath, and then another. “What the fuck happened?”
Just push it to the side or something. Marley wished she hadn’t heard those words. She wished her head would stop fucking with her. She wished people understood. But Emilio didn’t know about what happened to her, he had no idea and she didn’t want him to know. She didn’t want anyone to know. Emilio was snapping at her, voice low as they attempted to keep hidden from the person now entering the house. She didn’t say anything at first, she didn’t know what to say. What was she supposed to say? Sorry my head is fucked up and I forgot to tell you? That would make her a liability, he’d do the same thing the precinct did. He would bench her, or worse, fire her. And she needed this. She needed this.
“Will you shut up?” she hissed back under her breath. “He might hear us.” But would Emilio ever trust her again after this? She didn’t know what else to say. She waited until the figure moved into another room before answering. “I– it was nothin’. Just something with my head. I thought I saw–” she didn’t know what she thought she saw, but she’d seen something. Heard something. “Look, I’m sorry. Alright? Won’t happen again.”
She was telling him to shut up? Emilio’s eyes were dark with anger, expression furious as he struggled to maintain his composure. On some level, he understood that she was right — snapping was only going to draw attention to where they were hiding and eliminate their already small chance at making it out of this unscathed. But his anger, rarely a thing to adhere to logic, kept reminding him that they wouldn’t need to avoid drawing attention to their position at all if she’d only done what he’d asked her to do. Self preservation narrowly won out against his desire to yell, though his expression remained stormy in the cramped, dark closet. In the house beyond the room they’d been investigating, he heard the continued movement of the mark, stomping through the hall to the kitchen, the bathroom, the living room. Settling in for the evening, most likely. Mierda.
Marley’s explanation didn’t satisfy, left only more questions. “Thought you saw what?” His voice was low, hardly more than an exhale, but the anger was still clear in his tone. He tried for a steadying breath, tried to keep himself from boiling over. It was hard. Emilio’s anger was something he scarcely even attempted to control, and lately? He wasn’t sure the goal of doing so was even achievable. He was angry, all the time. He didn’t know how to be anything else, even when there was no reason behind the rage. So when something happened that actually was infuriating? It became a hard thing to shove down. “Yeah,” he agreed, “it won’t happen again, because we’re about to get shot in some pendejo’s closet. This — Christ, Stryder, this kind of shit gets people killed.”
“You think I don’t know that!?” Marley hissed back, red eyes flickering in a flash. She grit her teeth and tried to keep from turning and punching Emilio right in the jaw. As his anger boiled, so did hers. She could even feel that tiny trickle of doubt that was trying to push its way through Emilio’s mind. He was much better than others at hiding it, though. But he couldn’t hide if from her, no one could truly hide their fears from Marley. It was what she was made to do, just as he was made to kill things like her. Sometimes, she forgot how they’d even become friends, if you could call their relationship that. She felt guilt when she remembered. The man didn’t seem like he was going to leave anytime soon and Marley wasn’t sure she could stay in this small space. Not when it suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe and that the walls were closing in and she choked on her own breath.
“I– I have to get–” She was shaking, damp with sweat. All she could think about was what she’d seen in that window, what she kept hearing in her head. This was all supposed to just be over and yet it haunted her like a nightmare. WIthout another word, her image faded into nothing and any pressure Emilio would have felt disappeared. Marley plunged out the door and to the front and ran from the man’s house, as if the place were going to swallow her whole. She didn’t stop until her lungs burned and collapsed to her knees, pressing hands over her ears. Something was wrong again. She finally had her life back in order and now something was wrong again.
She was angry. She was angry, and it was a goddamn relief, because if she was angry then Emilio could use that to fan the flames burning in his own chest, could keep himself pissed off, could avoid feeling anything other than this for as long as her eyes burned red and her teeth ground together. She looked about ready to hit him, which would probably be a bad idea given the delicacy of their current position, but part of him wanted it all the same. Violence was the only language he’d ever understood entirely, the only thing that made sense when nothing else did. And right now? There wasn’t a whole lot of sense to be found. Someone he’d trusted had fucked up in a way that saw him locked in a damn closet, trying to figure out how to get out without getting himself shot, or stabbed, or hit in the face with a baseball bat. It was hard for Emilio to wrap his head around that.
And then, the anger faded and she was stammering, she was uncertain, she was different. Emilio realized what was going to happen a moment before it did, eyes widening as he took a step forward to grab for her arm. “Marley, don’t you fucking —” But it was too late. His hand grasped at open air where she’d been before as she faded into the shadows and out of the house, abandoning him for safety. The closet felt larger and smaller without her in it, without anyone else to be angry at. In the adjacent room, the television flipped on. Papers rustled. Emilio let himself slide to the floor, bunched up and uncomfortable and hoping the closet door would remain closed until the man left the house again and gave him time to make his escape.
One thing was for certain: he was in for a long fucking night.
TIMING: After Harsh Light of Day
PARTIES: @detectivedreameater and @chasseurdeloup
LOCATION: WCPD interrogation room
SUMMARY: A familiar face is on the case that Kaden reported. AKA Rule number 1 of fight club. Don’t talk about fight club.
CONTENT WARNING: None!
