A phone call between Vincent Shield and his girlfriend, Tara. Tara belongs to @fairybean101 and is used with permission! Thanks for letting me use your girl to talk some sense into my poor movie star.
This post references Who’s the Better Box Boy by @shameless-whumper heavily, so please read that if you haven’t yet to understand Vince’s reactions
CW: Referenced past violent assault, and referenced psat and current noncon
Vince finally gives up and calls her - one benefit of their relationship for him has been Tara’s simple willingness to pick up the phone so he can ask her to yell at him any time, day or night. Tara never seems to sleep, she’s burning herself out rescuing all those poor Box Boys and Babes, and so she’s never more than a few moments of ringing away.
And she always picks up when Vince calls.
When Eli had initially asked him to consider acting as some kind of go-between for the pet lib people - he’d known Eli for a while, they ran in some of the same circles sometimes - he’d nearly said no.
But he wanted to help; even then, he’d understood something was really, really wrong with the whole human pet system. He hadn’t been able to put his finger on it, then, because why not let people sign their lives away? Vince did that every time he signed a contract for a new film and had to stop doing anything but working out and eating stupid plain chicken for months.
But Eli had known more than he let on, at first, and a couple of years later Vince was sitting up in the middle of the night, half-plastered, replaying a video of some poor son of a bitch with Vince’s face laying on his back, ankles flush to thighs, legs spread.
The red in the poor thing’s face, embarrassed and ashamed of something that, according to Tara, he couldn’t have refused to do even if he’d wanted to.
And to Vince, it looked like he wanted to refuse.
He caught the look the other one - the one that the Host kept - gave, presumably, Owen behind the camera. Flat and controlled, an attempt to stay expressionless, but Vince could read the helpless fury there.
“Yeah, you and me both, buddy,” Vince muttered, raking a hand back through his hair as he pulled up Tara’s number. “Both of us get pissed as hell and both of us do fucking nothing about it. At least you have an excuse, I guess. I’m just a goddamn coward.”
Tara’s number was next to an icon of her face, a serious scowl with her red hair a halo around her head. She hadn’t wanted Vince to take the photo, but she’d been the one to choose which of the seven he took got set as her icon on his phone.
It took four rings for Tara to pick up.
“What dumbass thing are you doing now?” Her voice is sharp as ever, but laced, he likes to think, with friendly affection. “It’s two in the morning, Vince.”
“Don’t yell at me for being up, I’m between projects and I always get all weird with my sleep schedule when I’m not working. What are you doing up?”
“Handling some new reports from another group,” Tara replies, and Vince can hear her shuffling papers in the background. “They got word on an upcoming raid, managed to split up their documents and records before the cops found them. We took in a few of their rescues, a couple of other groups took some. All the rescues are taken care of, which is what matters, but shit.”
“Shit…?”
“They’re hitting too many groups. I think someone is talking. But you don’t want to hear about my shit tonight… what’s up, Vince?” There’s a pause and before he can answer, Tara asks softly, “You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”
Vince glances down at his laptop, where the video is currently paused, right on the shot of the look of pure unadulterated trying-to-hide-it murder Colton - who is apparently Dustin Anderson, pet liberation activist, and oh shit what a fucking ominous soundtrack that knowledge starts up inside his head - is giving Owen Grant. He moves the timer back and sets it up to replay the look on the Kauri kid’s face the second he heard the Host say Position 34.
The red flush, humiliated and nervous, the subtle sidelong glance to the other pet only to see the confusion on his face and realize oh shit, I’m the only one of us who knows this.
Did pets judge each other? Did Kauri leave and the other one, the Dustin one, think oh, that one’s a whore when they left?
Probably not.
No, the reaction shots gave too much away for Vince to even think unkind bullshit like that. No, the pets clearly cared, at least a little. The rescues they brought in mostly avoided each other at first, while all the conditioning was in place, but these two look like maybe they wouldn’t. Or at least not as much.
He rewinds again right to the start, watching for the moment Owen Grant looks up, surprised, those green eyes on the camera so soft and friendly.
“He’s such a fucking liar, Tara,” Vince says, and his voice shakes.
“Yeah, okay, so you’re watching it.” Tara sighs, and he can picture it - rubbing the spot between her eyebrows with her index finger and thumb, taking a deep breath. “Vince, you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t punish yourself this way.”
“He’s a liar. He goes on camera - what fucking right does he have to do that, by the way - and he stands right fucking there and lies about what happened between us, lies about what I, what I did with him-”
“No.” Tara’s voice is sharp, and it cuts through Vince immediately. His mouth snaps shut. “What he did to you, Vince. We’ve talked about this. You didn’t do anything but go to see your friend one night when he seemed down. Everything after he put the drink in your hand is what he did to you.”
There’s a silence and Vince tries to tell himself she’s right. She’s always right.
Eventually, he gives up to the pull of just letting Tara run the show and smiles, wondering if she’ll hear the expression in his voice. “Yeah, okay. But still… you know he didn’t get someone like that Box Boy by accident. You know he lied about that, too.”
“Yeah, I know.” Tara’s voice is clipped, and goes slightly quieter. “We got a potential informant in the company, and I’ve just seen Grant’s custom order form.”
“What?” Vince’s feet thump to the ground and he sits up. Around him his home is perfectly silent, pure white, and kind of cold. He likes it better when Tara has to stay over, pretend she’s sleeping with him that night. Then this place feels like it has life in it.
Mostly, even when he’s home, it just feels... empty.
“Yeah. We had someone come through and offer to get us some info, and Owen Grant’s order form was in the documents he gave us to show he was good for it. This is… this is the most detailed custom order form I’ve ever seen, Vince.”
“Did he-...” Vince tries to swallow back the question, but it tumbles out anyway. “Did he really just want him for-”
“No, it’s more fucked than that.” Tara’s quiet - Vince can hear his own blood, his heartbeat, his breathing. “Are you sure you want me to tell you?”
“Yes. No. I don’t, I don’t know… will it make me feel better or worse to hear it?”
On screen, Kauri is shocked and Vince watches his flinch, the tears standing in his eyes, still pleading and wide in some hope that Owen will rescue him. Vince grinds his teeth in anger at the way it looks to see his own face, so perfectly broken and needy, looking always to Owen to be saved.
Exactly how Owen had always wanted to see him.
“Probably worse,” Tara answers, and there’s a hint of gentleness there. Tara isn’t gentle with very many people - with him, with Eli, maybe a few others. Always with the rescues, the broken men and women hiding from the system under fake names and with forged documentation, pulled from homes and those two-bit emporiums selling bullshit knock-off Box Boys and Babes. She doesn’t have a lot of gentle left in her, after her own ordeal - but she always finds a little for Vince.
And he doesn’t even try to be ashamed of himself for needing it.
“Tell me anyway. That poor kid probably feels enough like shit, I might as well join him. I’m the only reason he’s even in this mess.”
“Well, okay, it might make you feel better to know he was already in the system. They called him 645898,” Tara reads the number out loud with real hatred edging her voice. “He was already in training before Grant put in his order, but I have a hunch they new Grant had been sniffing around the site and picked him up to have him ready for the order. And fuck, what an order. I don’t know what we’d even do with a rescue like this one, Vince.”
“What? Why? We’ve rescued others that are, that were, that… um…”
“Got their brains fucked out of them?” Tara asks with bitter near-humor.
“Yeah. That.”
“Yeah, he’s definitely seeing his share of that-” Vince winces, closing his eyes, trying not to remember Own’s hand pressed over his mouth, the look in his eyes as he’d whispered I’m so fucking tired of hearing you say no all the time, Vince, the way the ropes had dug into his wrists until they were rubbed raw and bloody. “-but it’s worse than that. He wouldn’t even go with us if we showed up at Grant’s front door.”
“Let me guess,” Vince says heavily. “He wanted the pet to love him.”
I just want you to fucking love me, you piece of shit! Is that so much to ask, Vince? Huh?! Is that so much to fucking ask?!
“Yep.” Tara doesn’t try to soothe him, to paper over old wounds with pretty words. That’s what he loves about her - Vince’s world is one of fake comfort and false friends, and Tara never gives comfort she doesn’t drag out of herself with real sincerity and she’s the truest friend he’s ever had. “If we tried to take him, he... he wouldn’t go. And that’s just the fucking tip of the fucking iceberg, too.”
“Perfect.” Vince sighs. “This kid had no idea what he was signing up for, huh?”
“Vince. You and I both know hardly any of them actually sign up for anything. You and I both know how they get the pets to sign our contracts.”
Vince licks his lips, hesitating, his blood running a little cold at the thought. “Yeah. Yeah, I know, I know how they do it. I know it.”
“Close your laptop, Vince. Go to sleep. This kid won’t be any less or more fucked over if you do. We’ll work on his case, I promise, he’s just… he’s going to be tough. He’s not in a house where we can walk up, he never leaves so we can’t catch him in a vulnerable, open place. And if we did… he wouldn’t go. The conditioning is thorough, Vince, and I’ve no doubt he loves Grant and is terrified of the idea of being taken away from him.” Tara sighs, again. She has a whole library of sighs, and Vince loves her for each and every one of them. “I have to talk to Eli about it, we need a better plan for dealing with this one, but trust me - I’m going to figure this shit out. Your clone and Dustin, we’re going to figure it out.”
“If you don’t, Tara? What if you can’t figure it out, for either of them?”
“Then…” Tara trails off. “Then it’s like I said. They’re no more or less fucked over than they were before I knew about them.”
It’s Vince’s turn to snort. “Tara. We both know that’s not how you operate. You never stop thinking about any of the ones you couldn’t rescue.”
“Hm. Maybe I’ll make it work this time if I try hard enough. Go to sleep, Vince. Eli’s on my other line. He took in a rescue and he’s been calling me for advice about her.”
“That’s funny. Me calling to ask you about this Kauri kid, and Eli’s right in his house, at the exact same moment, calling you for advice about, uh, whatever her name is.”
“Keira. She asked him to call her Keira.” Tara is quiet. “Kauri and Keira. Funny, the two names together like that. Eli even says her hair is dark and curly... Anyway, you need sleep and I need to keep moving.”
“Right, because you’re a sleep shark, if you sleep you’ll die,” Vince teases her. She laughs on the other line, and he relaxes all at once.
Did the people who kept Tara, in the shadowy past she only rarely opened up about, ever make her laugh? Did they have any idea how wonderful it was to hear the sound? Did they know her laugh was nearly as gorgeous as the red of her hair? If Vince had ever been remotely into women, someone like Tara might have been just his type.
As it was, his fake girlfriend was probably his best friend. And the only person on Earth who knew what Owen Grant had done to him, when he was 20 years old and looked exactly like the Kauri kid that Vince was watching, once again, lay on his back on the screen.
Ankles against his thighs, legs spread apart, the flush of shame in his eyes and his skin and in the way he moved when Owen yanked him back to his feet moments later.
“You have meetings tomorrow,” Tara says, softly.
“So do you,” He counters. He scrolls down to look over the comments, staring at the array of usernames and inane babble. Mostly just people praising the Host’s cleverness, how funny they are, what a great idea to have two Box Boys face off like that.
Then one catches his eye.
@finder-of-rings: Kauri seems really sweet. God I hope owen isn’t hurting him. It’d be so, so easy to do just anything he wanted to him! They’re all alone and he can’t say no to anything, right??? God, that’s so scary… imagine being all alone with someone like Owen Grant and he can do literally anything to you and no one will stop him and no one will help you! Someone should do something!
There’s a slew of replies telling the commenter they’re making a mountain out of a molehill, that the Box Boys signed up for this, it’s all part of the system, whatever.
Vincent just stares at the words as they go in and out of focus.
“Vince?” Tara’s voice seems a little fainter. “You listening?”
Imagine being all alone with someone like Owen Grant and he can do anything to you - and no one will stop him - and no one will help you.
“I don’t have to imagine it,” Vince whispers. “I’ve been there, Finder of Rings. I’ve fucking been there.”
“Hey, no, are you reading the comments, Vince?” Tara’s voice is sharp again, cuts through the fog and the way his throat has gone tight, his heart beating fast, a dizzy fear pounding in his mind all the way down to wrists that still remember how it felt to be tied down.
A throbbing pulse of phantom pain in the rib Owen had broken, in the eye he’d punched. Some of Vince’s teeth are fake because of Owen Grant.
“Never, ever read the comments, Vince. Never. That’s… we have people who read the comments just to troll for info and even some of them get freaked out. Don’t do it. Or…” The softness is back in her voice, again. “At least let me be there with you when you do.”
“Yeah… yeah, no, you’re right.” Vince’s voice is shaking as he closes his laptop screen, shutting away the vision of Kauri and the Host’s boy carefully not looking at each other as the episode ended. I hope the other pets don’t judge the ones like you, little clone, he thinks. I hope, I hope, I hope.
“I’m going to bed, Tara. You’re right and I should take your advice and just… just fucking shut off for a while. Are you going to take my advice and do the same?”
“Fuck no. I’m calling Eli to see what help he needs with his rescue. She’s a sweetheart, she’s been really put through the worst the system does to people. I’ll sleep when I’m dead, Vince.”
“And you’ll die if you sleep,” Vince says, and both of them laugh this time.
She hangs up and Vince sits in his quiet, empty house, thinking of the comment he’d read.
Someone should do something.
He thinks of Owen screaming in his face, holding him by the chin, the way he’d choked on his own blood and the tooth down his throat as he cried and begged Owen not to kill him. Thought of what it had been like when Owen’s mom had found out and Vincent had stumbled out of the old apartment where Owen used to live, beaten half to death and unable to tell a single living soul what really happened.
It’d hurt his career, if he did. He was just getting real acting jobs meant for adults, then - he’d signed Carlotta Grant’s legal shit and taken a year to recover and then come back and become a fucking superstar. It had felt like enough for a while.
He couldn’t have risked his career, then, when it was only getting started. And now...
It’d murder his career to step one foot out of line, now - and put the pet lib people he worked with at risk, if he publicly said a fucking thing about Owen Grant keeping what amounted to a blow up doll with a pulse that looked just like him.
He had to trust Tara, and the people like Tara - the people braver than him.
“Someone should save that poor kid,” Vince mutters, alone in the dark. “Someone should do something. But it’s not going to be me.”
Here is the master list for the Box Boy/Kauri series. All posts, moodboards, anything that I put together or receive for this (including related posts from other bloggers/collaborations) will be linked/reblogged attached to this post!
Content warnings are at the top of each post. Please know this series includes references/implied/non-graphic noncon, dubcon, abuse, and violence
Erase to Control
Box Boy Kauri (introduction)
Kauri and Keira
Mirrors
Related Posts From Other Bloggers:
Includes posts that take place in the same universe but are not direct collaborations
@fairybean101′s Keira series (starts here)
@shameless-whumper‘s Youtuber Whumper/Colton series (Masterlist here)
Moodboards:
Kauri’s Moodboard
(Owen’s is upcoming!)
You can also use the tags #owen grant, #vincent shield, #kauri, #karen renford, and #owen grant is a nice guy to see answers to asks that I’ve done in-character or elaborating on the story
Feel free to send me asks or leave comments to this post with questions you have/requests to be added to the tag list!
imagine: Vincent Shield running into Owen again, unexpected, and just physically hiding behind Tara. im a sucker for protective partners and kickass women. also, someone needs to protect Vince (and kauri, deffo, but Jesus Vince has to stay safe from this.. Owen)
I feel like @fairybean101 Tara is definitely the ass kicker and Vince is definitely the "hide until Tara kicks ass" person, yes.
Vincent would absolutely hide before he would ever interact with Owen Grant ever again. Even knowing about Kauri. He feels bad about Kauri being in the position he's in because of Vincent, but he doesn't actually have the courage to do anything about it himself.
Can I just like ....... send a Hitman after Owen? Please? At least Keira is safe now???????
What do you mean? Of course Keira's safe! Roombas with limited AI and active learning language are CRAZY expensive, Owen would never let anything happen to Keira!
Also, he has reported you to building security and called local law enforcement for that threat.
There's never been any other Keira. That's just some stupid pet name Kauri gave the Roomba. Isn't it funny how sweet and simple he is?
How often do BBs who get taken by liberation groups or by people who seek to liberate them in general try to report them?
I don't know! I don't have much of an idea on the inner workings of liberation groups. @fairybean101 is doing a lot with pet lib people and @shameless-whumper might have good answers for that, but I got nothin'.
This is a short story that is apart of a big plot. My main series is called the Divine one and I hope to post the full series on here and hopefully get a community to join in on the whumping of my beloved characters. I wanted to try and post this rough draft...i'll repost the final copy of it.
TW: Reference of past abuse, mild bood (Im still learning...please be gentle...or not) ;)
It's the dead of night, the moon is in full view despite the rain showering the open fields. In the distance a car can be heard making its way through the fields, the engine revving being the only sound that can be heard. We see through the driver's seat. The windshield wipers going on and off. You can hear something playing through the radio. The time reads 2:37 A.M. We see the passing fields continue over and over again. All of a sudden we hear the screeching sounds of the tire on the road, we see the car swerving left and right till it flips over and crashes into the fields. We see shattered glass on the road, followed by a couple of trails of blood. We get a look at the wreckage and the sounds of police sirens, fading into the darkness.
Beep
Beep
Beep
Beep
Kiara? N-No...that...doesn’t sound like her...she sounds more...rapid...W-where…
His train of thought was interrupted by a sharp pain emitting from his head. His eyes open wide and he tries to get up but nothing is moving. He tries to move his arms and legs but nothing. He can’t feel anything. His breathing becomes rapid.
Am...am I...no, no no no no no no no! I..I can’t die...voice...voice needs me...I need…I need-
Ahhh, you’re awake now.
A voice. One he isn’t familiar with. It doesn’t sound like master. He tries to focus on where the voice is coming from.
Careful now, the drugs are still in effect. You gave us quite the scare.
He tries to speak but All he can do is slur his words.
Alright, I know you're probably scared and confused. Everything will be revealed to you soon.
Where...who...
He hears the sounds of heels clicking on the ground. The sound of a chair dragging on the ground. We see a young woman with hair as black as the midnight sky.
My name is Mahiri Kifalme.
Mahiri?
I know this is a bad time but I need to ask you some questions. If you understand me blink twice for yes and blink once for no.
Blink Blink
Good job! Now, do you know where you are?
Blink
She writes down on a clipboard. He starts looking around and looks at the walls. Pure white, the roof is coated in eggshell white.
Are you in any pain?
Blink Blink
Okay, so you can feel-
Feel? I can’t feel anything but the splitting pain in my head. I...I need to speak...I
Hey hey hey, don’t strain yourself..you’ll get worse. Let your body recover.
What? Recovery?
We hear the sudden sounds of tires screeching followed by the sound of someone yelling
YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME FOREVER!!! 003!!!!
We hear the ECG suddenly beep rapidly. We can see his breathing is rapid.
Hey hey...It’s okay. Calm down, sweetie. Look at me, I know you’re scared and confused. Aright. Take deep breaths. Alright.
Inhale
Inhale
Exhale
Exhale
Inhale
Inhale
Exhale
Exhale
The sounds from the ECG slowly uite down into a normal and steady pace. Mahiri walks away from his line of sight.
What...master’s voice...he was...Kiara...where are you...I...want...t-to go b-back.
Alright, the doctor said we can sit you up. I want you to blink three times if you start feeling pain, okay?
Sit me up? Wait...i’m...i’m in a hospital?
Mahiri walks over to the bed and grabs a remote. She pushes one of the buttons and we she the bed moving slowly. After a few seconds she stops.
I’m gonna position you, Okay?
Blink Blink
Mahiri slowly helps him sit up. We start to see the room more clearly. The glass door in front of him. People; patients, visitors and doctors walking back and forth. He looks down and gives a sharp gasp before grunting in pain. He sees both his arms and legs are restrained.
You’re probably wondering about these. It was for your safety. You wouldn’t stop clawing at your throat so we had no choice.
Clawing…
We hear the sounds of people yelling.
NO! I HAVE TO GET OUT! MASTER’S GONNA PUNISH ME! LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LETMEGOLETEGOLETMEGO!
3! YOU HAVE TO CALM DOWN! YOU’RE SAFE NOW! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!
We see him fight the nurses and doctors. His face covered in a mixture of blood, sweat and tears. Mahiri and holding his hand away from his neck, we see fresh scratch marks and blood triquiliing down his neck. Mahiri turns to one of the nurses.
NURSE GO AND GET THE CUFFS! I’M GONNA HAVE TO SEDATE YOU!
We flash back to the present. He remembers now, at least bits and pieces.
The drugs should be wearing off in an hour. If you want I can turn the TV on...or would you like me to read to you? Blink once for TV and blink twice for book.
Blink
Okay, tv it is.
Mahiri walks over and pulls the TV towards them. She grabs the remote.
Blink when you want me to stop.
Blink Blink
Mahiri starts flipping through the channels. He stares at the tv until it gets to a history channel. He blinks to Mahiri which motions her to stop. Together, they watch TV until the doctor shows up, hopefully than he can get the answers he needs.
