Chloe Frazer (
totallytrustworthy) wrote in
exsiliumlogs2012-10-11 04:36 am
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He's coming and she knows it, even though she knows why
Date & Time: 10/11 10pmish
Location: One of the sidestreets just off the recovering marketplace
Characters: Chloe Frazer, Talbot (andpossibly some other nice resident who would like to prevent the worst from happening Koltira)
Summary: Talbot rejects the stalemate. Violently.
Warnings: Violence, mind control, drugs, attempted suicide, TERRIBLE THINGS NO ONE SHOULD PROBABLY EVER LOOK AT AND SO ON.
It's been a relatively enjoyable few days since Chloe bothered to take that overwhelmingly difficult step and phone up Talbot in the hopes that she could talk a bit of sense into him. (Or, as it turns out, force him into enough of a corner to make sure he doesn't have any other option but to agree) She doesn't have any illusions about it being anything more than the most fragile and fleeting agreement, but the thought of having enough time to finish dragging a few freshly purchased tools back to Sully's apartment (to repair the broken window that could be used against them with a well-aimed sniper rifle) and the feeling of the slick tablet beneath her fingers as she dials in Charlie's number so they can have a less heated conversation about what needs to be done (and make amends, as usual) has her walking with her head held just a bit higher, leaves a smile tugging gently at the corner of her mouth. Even Koltira can be cured of a bitter mood with enough alcohol, and should she finish up in a timely enough manner, there might even be a few hours to spare for a long, pleasant, chilly conversation out in the woods on a pile of shredded timber. Because as horrid as this month has been, because as much as she'd like to cut ties with everything and run, she's become a social creature, and doing without isn't as easy as it used to be.
The night air is cool against her skin as she rounds the corner of a nearly empty street leading away from the market, pathway lit by the dim glow of her newly issued netbook. She can't help but feel like things are looking up; her plan had worked, after all.
Location: One of the sidestreets just off the recovering marketplace
Characters: Chloe Frazer, Talbot (and
Summary: Talbot rejects the stalemate. Violently.
Warnings: Violence, mind control, drugs, attempted suicide, TERRIBLE THINGS NO ONE SHOULD PROBABLY EVER LOOK AT AND SO ON.
It's been a relatively enjoyable few days since Chloe bothered to take that overwhelmingly difficult step and phone up Talbot in the hopes that she could talk a bit of sense into him. (Or, as it turns out, force him into enough of a corner to make sure he doesn't have any other option but to agree) She doesn't have any illusions about it being anything more than the most fragile and fleeting agreement, but the thought of having enough time to finish dragging a few freshly purchased tools back to Sully's apartment (to repair the broken window that could be used against them with a well-aimed sniper rifle) and the feeling of the slick tablet beneath her fingers as she dials in Charlie's number so they can have a less heated conversation about what needs to be done (and make amends, as usual) has her walking with her head held just a bit higher, leaves a smile tugging gently at the corner of her mouth. Even Koltira can be cured of a bitter mood with enough alcohol, and should she finish up in a timely enough manner, there might even be a few hours to spare for a long, pleasant, chilly conversation out in the woods on a pile of shredded timber. Because as horrid as this month has been, because as much as she'd like to cut ties with everything and run, she's become a social creature, and doing without isn't as easy as it used to be.
The night air is cool against her skin as she rounds the corner of a nearly empty street leading away from the market, pathway lit by the dim glow of her newly issued netbook. She can't help but feel like things are looking up; her plan had worked, after all.
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As fate would have it, this place has placed in his hand the ideal instrument for the job.
From a two-story rooftop, Talbot is able to track his target comfortably through his scope while she finishes her errands. By the time she steps out into a quieter side street, she's at mid-range for the capabilities of the rifle.
He aims low, for the back of the thigh--he doesn't need any obvious marks when they find her. And then he tugs at the trigger.
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The lack of control is crushing, steals the breath right from her. It's a flashback to Syria, to watching Charlie slip away into madness, but this time without the luxury of being a bystander. Those split seconds before the crash when you realize the brake line's already been cut.
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Even a clear-headed onlooker might be taken aback by his sudden appearance in the street behind Chloe. He puts a bracing hand on her shoulder and steers her off the road and into the deeper shadows offered by the building beside them.
"Chloe," Talbot murmurs, dropping his chin beside her ear. He's already plucked the dart from her leg and slipped it into his pocket. "I'm here to take care of you."
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"Are you armed, Chloe?"
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Her lip curls back, furrowed brow twitching just slightly as she hopes her finger will somehow pull the trigger on its own.
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"No." She mutters, repeating it a few times just under her breath, though she's not sure if it's said out loud or if she's only thinking it.
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It's a pity he has to put her down. Such a waste.
"You don't have a choice," he says, his voice harder, more insistent. "This life isn't for you: you crave freedom, adventure, wealth...and here you are living like a caged fighting dog. All you see in this place is cold steel bars and the taste of the muzzle every time you try to lick at your wounds. There's no other way out, Chloe. They talk about finding a way home, but it's a promise as empty as any golden calf."
Talbot slides back a step. "Put the gun in your mouth. Pull the trigger. Everything will be okay."
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"Yes, that's it. You know what you have to do. It was your idea all along, after all. I'm not here. I never was..."
And in saying, he's gone.
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And doesn't count the seconds before she starts to press on the trigger.
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But then he hears the sound of a gun cocking from within the alley. His long ears twitch, and Koltira draws Byfrost from his back, thinking initially that it's an act of aggression. He rushes forward, planning to meet whatever challenger might await him.
And stops short, nearly dropping his runeblade in shock.
"Chloe?" he says, taking in the discordant, horrible sight of this self-assured woman with her own gun pressed firmly in her mouth, her fingers tightening on the trigger as though it's the most natural decision she's ever made.
Koltira decides not to wait for a response. He leaps at her, tackling her to the ground. The gun clatters to the pavement.
"Chloe," he breathes, holding her in place. "What's happened to you?"
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"Get your hands off of me!"
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"You must come to your senses," he growls, pressing his weight upon her, grasping her firmly by the wrists. "You were about to shoot yourself in the bloody head!"
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"I know, I know..." It's repeated like a mantra, pleading and weighted with despair. "I don't have a choice. I can't--"
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"It's all right," he says, maintaining a firm, careful grip. He doesn't want to hurt her; Light help him, he just wants her to relax. His voice drops to a soft, low register, as gentle as he can manage. "I'm here, and I will not let you go."