there is a difference / between burying a thing you love / for the sake of returning / and leaving a fresh absence / in a city's dirt / looking for a mercy.
“i knew you were gone.” lars sometimes wondered if he was vocal enough about his affection for beatrice. he knew that she knew that he loved her, but he wasn’t sure that she believed it. she was often seen as trouble, sure, he knew that, but he dealt in trouble. he knew trouble like the back of his hand, and lars would wager that she was less trouble, and more troubled. she could stir the pot, but in lars’ unprofessional, armchair psychologist’s opinion, he was of the belief that a lot of beatrice’s acting out was less intentional than it came across, and was actually just the consequences of self-destructive decisions.
and lars had noticed when she was gone. it hurt that she didn’t let him know she’d be taking off, but it didn’t surprise him. and when she came back, it was just a relief that she came back alive. half of this fear was mob instinct, something he’d learned at a young age, but he also knew beatrice well, and the idea that she would go off to die seemed, to him, like something she would do. “let’s unpack that.” lars said softly, taking her hand properly now for a friendly squeeze. “i’d like to know what that means.”
she took a deep breath, looking up at the sky like someone who actually believed there was some large, omnipotent, omnipresent being playing puppeteer with their lives. it felt weird to look up and almost search for something now, as someone who didn’t believe in anything or anyone, not even herself. it felt foolish to look for some kind of reassurance that her life would make sense one day. ❝ starting with the obvious, then. ❞ there was a laugh sitting at the back of her throat, as she was painfully aware of how pathetic her upcoming words were. ❝ i know i pulled a runaway bride last year, so this might be surprising to hear, but — ❞ she paused for a second; saying it, admitting the one thing she believed it was wrong, became harder than expected. ❝ i actually believed that i’d marry asher one day. and i know that’s dumb, because i was the only one who prevented that from happening, but...i don’t know. ❞
she shrugged, ready to just drop it right there. didn’t want to seem like someone who actually believed in fate or anything like that, but the words just flowed out of her lips without her thinking much about them. ❝ i thought that one day, in the future, we’d get back together, and i wouldn’t have as many doubts, and he’d actually want to be with me, and not like...just be there because i was the only one who was available. ❞
lysander was really unsure of what to do with himself. as much wasn’t unusual, but it always rendered him a little useless in conversations in which he was uncomfortable. he at least new that beatrice wasn’t intentionally malicious. he never got the vibe that she went out of her way to be mean, only that she had a habit of making mistakes and had very little drive to solve problems when they arose. at least, that was what he’d gathered – if he was wrong, he’d probably never know. he didn’t want to go out of his way to find out.
“you weren’t expecting to see me… at paragon? where i… go to school?” he asked, trying to understand what she’d meant. “what–?”
she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and find herself somewhere else once she opened them. teleport herself out of this situation. but of course, she deserved this. she deserved every little bit of awkward and painful that permeated their interactions. this was her punishment ( or, at least, part of it ), for being such a goddamn reckless idiot, going around fucking with everyone in her way.
she wasn’t quite sure what to say, the words had come out sort of on impulse, but in truth they were completely empty of any meaning. she should have expected him, of course. ❝ look, man, i’m just at a loss here, gimme a break. ❞ probably not the best thing to say to someone she knew she’d hurt. he didn’t owe her anything, not a break nor anything else. ❝ i just meant that, i don’t know, i didn’t think i’d run into you like this. i thought we could just like...avoid each other, y’know. ❞
* closed starter for @honcybea / “shadows do tend to follow you though, that’s how they work.”
“always the smartass.” classic bea. she couldn’t say she hadn’t missed it. in spite of the comment, sia had momentarily forgot herself and the bounds of their forever new ( lack of ) dynamic - GRINNING back at her. it was hard to remain on edge when the face behind was as familiar as hers, and the younger woman didn’t want to fight that. bea had been a FRIEND, once. the best one that sia had, for a long while. there had been a point where she had never imagined it would come to an end, and while it was true that it still had ; she had always wished things were different. “touche. they also tend to move far quieter, but who am i to point such a thing out? it’s…- i’m happy to see you, bea.”
she wasn’t sure what possessed her to reach out like that — sia had been so close to her heart ( if you could even believe beatrice zsasz had a heart ) at one point, and then suddenly they were like strangers again. perhaps it took finding herself completely alone again ( or so she thought ), to reach out to the one person she’d been able to call a friend and not doubt her intentions. sia had always been a good friend. bea was the one with a habit of destroying her relationships. she doesn’t deserve, nor expect sia, to so much as look her way now that their paths have grown so far apart. and yet, she returns the smile freely, and openly, not thinking about all the reasons why she could hate her. ❝ i never really got the whole stealth thing, that’s not my style, ❞ she shrugged. ❝ i’m happy to see you too. ❞
laughing softly at her whine, lars reached out and touched bea’s hand lightly. it was a gesture of comfort, one of solidarity, and a playful nudge in response to her words. lars loved bea. she was one of his closest friends, and somebody he always felt responsibility for. she was as good as a sister to him, and if he could lighten the load for her, he would do it, no questions asked.
“yeah, go on.” he grinned, looking over at her. she always had something interesting to say, something that was always different to what he would say, and he liked to hear what she was thinking. and if she was upset or hurting in someway, he felt it was his job to fix what he could. face settling into a more somber expression as she spoke, lars hummed. “it’s nice to have you back, but what’s the strange thing about it?”
few people touched bea with no intention beyond comforting her. just the simple feel of skin against skin in the most platonic way, a simple act of recognition, of acknowledgment, was a strange sensation for her. lars meant the world to her, even if she was bad at showing it. she’d never been good at expressing her appreciation for others ( in fact, she was adept at making them believe she didn’t care at all ), but she had always been grateful for lars. no matter how many times she disappeared, how hard she pushed him away, he was always there. the older she got, the less people stuck around her like he did.
❝ i didn’t think people would notice i was back, ❞ she admits, a certain sadness settling in her stomach. ❝ or, much less, that i was gone before that. ❞ she thought her departure from paragon would go unnoticed. everyone was much too preoccupied with better things, so she figured she could slip out and die quietly, since she was sure that was what would happen to her ( and it did, in a way ). ❝ not to get too depressing all of a sudden, this whole year has just forced me to reevaluate a lot of things in my life i kinda took for granted. ❞
she huffed, putting her knives down on the counter perhaps a little harder than perhaps necessary. her nostrils flared, but she turned away from bea so the older woman wouldn’t see her face. the word desensitized rushed over the younger girl for some reason brought about a whole boat load of anger she’d been storing since she’d heard bea was dead, and then not dead suddenly. in fact, this anger came so suddenly she had to get it out somehow, so she let out a high-pitched growl, tossing her final knife clattering to the bathroom floor. it wasn’t at anyone, not even a graceful throw, hilt clattering against the ground first, bouncing to the ground uselessly.
“yeah people tend to get curious about zombies, bee. don’t die next time, huh?”
the older woman flinched, taken aback by the sudden outburst. the younger members of the mob ( if they could be called that ) were always volatile, sure. most people from gotham were unexpected and volatile, but she hadn’t expected such a strong reaction from daisy at the mention of a shower. it was more than that, of course, but bea hadn’t thought of it.
she didn’t think much about other people when she suddenly packed up and left paragon, a decision she made on a whim when being so near to so many painful memories came to be too much for her. she didn’t think other people would miss her. she didn’t even think her absence would be noticed. but of course, it was. her face shifted from an expression of surprise, to confusion. ❝ i didn’t die, kiddo, ❞ she explained, her features softening, shoulders lowering. ❝ that was just a rumor. i’m alive and kickin’, and not going anywhere. ❞ that, of course, was a promise she couldn’t make. but whatever gave daisy some peace.
wow. first he got stuck in an elevator with jason todd, and now this.
not that he considered beatrice zsasz a this; he knew she was a human being, with thoughts and feelings, but lysander genuinely wondered if she could say the same about him. and why would she? why would he mean anything to her, when he only got in her way?
of course, he might not be spiraling so much if he hadn’t already reconnected with quin. the redhead wasn’t not going to let her shoulder her way past him to… to… whatever she and quin used to be. if the two men had not reconnected at this point, he might have lied down and let her win – but not now. not when he was so, so close to getting back on track.
“yes. it is. c-can…” breathe, sandy. “can i help you with s-something?”
like so many people who were much too soft and fragile to be at arm’s length from bea, lysander had been another casualty of her carelessness. she never set out to hurt him, she never did. in fact, she didn’t even know what she did with quin would end up hurting someone else, she had no way of knowing. now, was there guilt ? a little. she couldn’t lie. the zsasz girl was softer than her everything would suggest, and she didn’t particularly enjoy breaking hearts, despite the frequency with which she did it.
❝ uh, no thanks, i’m good. ❞ she tried to offer a smile, one of those tight-lipped, apologetic ones. ❝ i just uh, wasn’t expecting to see you. ❞
‘ it’s been a strange year all around. ’ // @honcybea !!
humming softly in agreement, lars tilted his head back to look at the girl sitting next to him. as troubled and troubling that she was, the mobster would always have a soft spot for her. she was one of the closest friends he had, even if he was one of the many people that didn’t know where she went for long stretches of time. that didn’t matter. not now, not now that she was back for however long she deemed necessary.
“you think so?” his garden was small, but it was nice to lie down on his grass and gaze upward into the skies. it wasn’t often she was soft or vulnerable, but if there was any chance to get her to open up ( even if only a little ), he’d take it. “would you like to share with the class?”
the words had come out of her mouth thoughtlessly ( like everything she said and / or did ). it wasn’t like she had made a groundbreaking discovery, or said something controversial. had any of them lived through a normal year ? ❝ yeah, ❞ she said simply. obviously. like there wasn’t much too it. like there was no deeper meaning to her words, there never was.
❝ do i have to ? ❞ she whined, lip twitching upwards in an expression of discomfort. opening up wasn’t so much the problem; there wasn’t much of her life that wasn’t public knowledge. lars, the mob, and the little dysfunctional family they all had going on had witnessed much of what went down in the previous year. or, at least, the important points. ❝ i don’t know, ❞ she shrugged. ❝ i guess i’m still getting used to shit. everything feels a little strange. ❞
daisy groaned, bounced in place, groaning more, “beaaaaaaa,” until she finally gives a large scoff, stomping into the bathroom, “FINE– but i need a towel and other clothes unless you want me running around in the nude,” she calls, beginning the process of pulling out the knives she kept handy, “it’s not like you never smelled blood and mud mixed together, wimpy.”
bea didn’t consider herself a particularly “ motherly ” person, ( except for a brief period of time, where she imagined herself with a perfect little angel, too good for the parents who birthed it, but that dream faded quickly ). in fact, she couldn’t even take care of herself. how she ended up as a sort of maternal figure for the wilson twins was beyond her. ❝ i think i can manage that, she said. i’m pretty sure either you or poppy have left your shit here before. just because i’m desensitized doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to walk around town like that. don’tcha know people are watchin’ us ? ❞
❝ he looked like popeye the sailor man come to life ❞ — @ofgrayscn
❝ i think i might know that guy, actually. ❞ her face scrunches up, trying to pull back the memory of the man who looked like a cartoon sailor. ❝ stumpy legs, butt chin, is always hanging around the roller kink and kinda smells a little bit like sardines ? ❞
“beatrice.” he says her name with the exasperation of someone who has seen an insect in their house when they’d thought they’d rid themself of the infestation. still, there’s something to be said of her resilience—he’s starting to wonder if he should bet on her instead of cockroaches to survive the apocalypse. “i’d heard you were dead. my sources are rarely wrong and i know you would not put so much effort into… anything. so, how did you do it?”
❝ eris, ❞ she replies, making herself comfortable in his home, leaning back on the sofa with her feet propped up on the coffee table. she smirks, almost proud of what she had achieved ( although it had been through no effort of her own ). ❝ you know how rumors spread, ❞ she answers with a shrug. ❝ sometimes a girl just wants to pass out in a ditch in peace, sometimes a nosy old man sees said girl and thinks she’s dead. suddenly all of gotham city thinks vicky zsasz’s kid is dead, and no one is surprised enough to fact-check. ❞
❝ this nose can’t be fooled, wilson, ❞ the older woman says, pointing at her nose, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. ❝ so go take a freakin’ shower. ❞
* — TASK 03 // there is a sweetness for us to push our faces into
track 06: NATASHA & PIERRE — natasha, pierre & the great comet of 1812 ( 00 / 01 )
and if you ever need help, or simply to open your heart to someone // not now, but when your mind is clear // think of me —
hello friends, i prepared this wc when the tast was first posted, but never published it. i’m being extra and making a whole separate post for it, because i want you all to know how important this is to me. bea’s close to turning 30, and in short, she feels empty. depleted, exhausted, broken. she feels like she’s wasted her entire life, chasing after things she never deserved, and could never reach. wasted her entire adult life on a relationship destroyed her constantly. she’s been beaten down to believe that she’s worthless, useless, and doesn’t deserve good things, because girls like her never get that happy ending. she fooled herself into believing she could get that with asher. that was only setting herself up for failure. in the end, she only broke her own heart. she feels herself crumbling, she sees herself fading away. MUSE G sees her differently. he knows how broken she feels, but to him, she’s beautiful. she’s more than what she gives herself credit for, and has more life ahead of her than she thinks. he sees her and he doesn’t see all the cracks, and missing parts. he’s not trying to fix her, just love her. make her believe that she does deserve the happy life she’s always dreamed about.
go on boy, dry your eyes // it’s good to feel just a little alive // drag a needle on the groove today // and waste away, yeah waste away
everyone needs those friends that you can just let loose with. friends that don’t ask too many questions, that are just there to have a good time. MUSE A and MUSE B are those friends for bea. they go out, get wasted, crash at each others’ places when they’re too fucked up to get to their own houses. they don’t talk about anything too deep, they don’t waste time with emotional stuff. when they go out, there’s no time for that. it’s all about dancing the night away, getting as many free drinks as they can, and forgetting about everything else.
track 02: C’MON — panic ! at the disco ft. fun. ( 00 / 01 )
what would my head be like // if not for my shoulders or without your smile? // may it follow you forever // may it never leave you // to sleep in the stone // may we, stay lost on our way home
anyone who remembers her knows that bea is the most hopeless of causes. years of neglect, abuse, and basically being made to believe that she was nothing more than street trash made her that way. she doesn’t care about herself, her health and wellbeing, and there is little bea won’t put into her body in her constant quest to destroy herself in order to pass the time until the earth claims her body. one night, as MUSE A was walking home, they found her stumbling around, either drunk, or high, or possibly both. they didn’t think twice to take them in. they cleaned her up, sobered her up, gave her a glass of water, some pillows and a blanket, and set her up on their couch. they took care of her, despite bea’s protests that she could take care of herself. bea knows she can’t be fixed, and she doesn’t expect anyone to try. she’s grateful, however, for this kind stranger ( or not stranger, could be anyone ) who patched her up, and still checks up on her, like her own personal guardian angel.
track 03: WICKED LITTLE TOWN —hedwig and the angry inch ( 00 / 01 )
and if you’ve got no other choice // you know you can follow my voice // through the dark turns and noise // of this wicked little town
gotham is all that bea knows. the streets, the crime, the mob. years of violence and abuse have made her believe that gotham is where she belongs, and that she’s nothing more than gotham street trash, nothing more than scum. MUSE D is the exact opposite of everything she’s ever known. this person sees her as something more than what she’s convinced herself she is. they treat her well, which is something bea’s not used to. they were there for her when she and asher broke up with her 4 years ago, but lost touch once he came back. now that they’re in the same place again, bea finds comfort in this person, who’s completely detached from everything she knows, and exactly what she needs. [ this person could be from gotham or not !! as long as they’re not connected to the mob. has the potential to be romantic !! ]
track 04: BREATHE ( 2AM ) — anna nalick ( 01 / 01 ) — taken by haley lance queen.
2 am and she calls me cause i’m still awake // “ can you help me unravel my latest mistake? // i don’t love him. winter just wasn’t my season “
beatrice and MUSE E have an unusual friendship. they don’t see each other too often, they’re not glued at the hip. but whenever bea’s feeling down, and going through something she doesn’t feel she can talk to any of her other friends about, she calls this person. their friendship exists mostly through the phone, at ungodly hours. it works both ways. they don’t hesitate to call each other at any hour, knowing the other will always be there to answer. doesn’t matter if it’s midnight, 2am, of 5am. there’s no doubt that the other person will be there to pick up the phone and talk through the night if necessary.
track 05: OLD FRIENDS / BOOKENDS — simon & garfunkel ( 01 / 01 ) — taken by sienna bertinelli.
can you imagine us years from today // sharing a park bench quietly // how terribly strange to be seventy // old friends, memory brushes the same years // silently sharing the same fears
before she fell in with the mob, before she lost all hope and settle into the sad and broken human she is today, bea thought she could lead a ( semi ) normal life. she dreamed of getting out of gotham and making something of herself. MUSE F shared that dream with her. it was a simple dream, it wasn’t an unrealistic one ( or so they thought ). they just wanted to get out, and be happy. they were young and idealistic. they thought they would make it together, and stay friends forever. as they grew older, and bea’s life grew darker, they drifted apart. they’ve seen each other a handful of times since, but it’s not the same anymore. they’re not the same people. now that she’s trying to pick up the pieces of her own life, bea thinks more and more about this person. she thinks about reaching out and recapturing a part of herself she thinks she’s lost, but doesn’t know if they’ll ever be those people again.
❝ i’m sorry. we know how it works. the world is no longer mysterious ❞ — @flightlessbvrd !!
their friendship is an unlikely one, considering the circles they each run in. every so often bea would make nice with someone who far too good for her, only to let them down later on. like the universe was telling her she was aiming too high, reaching too far out of her league. ❝ was it ever that mysterious in the first place ? ❞ that is, if bea were a woman who believed in anything. the universe wasn’t mysterious, there was no “ bigger picture ”. shes was just a gotham mob rat, and as much as she enjoyed talking to haley, she was sure a time would come when bea would that friendship beyond repair, and then they’d each move on with their lives.
