( obsession is a dangerous thing, but beautiful, in its own right. it takes strong men, beautiful men, and tears them down to their insincerity; leon says he doesn't know, but he does know, doesn't he? leon says that it's a deal, but she knows that if they agreed to leave together, that if they don't find this ada, that they'll stand on the precipice of the town line and leon will likely say but like there's some stone they didn't overturn at least three times, and they'll circle around again. an endless cycle of endless torture, all to come up with no answers: that's what she's expecting, despite the guidance that james is, supposedly, actually here. and maybe when they turn to leave, she won't be able to leave at all; that's a real possibility.
but it's a deal, anyway, which she answers with a smile, instead of agreement--a shallow lie, maybe, but it means that it could truthfully go either way.
and what does leon see, looking back at her, saying things like that? she writes him off and he comes back again with an addendum; she can't seem to find the right way to color in the lines, but then she's never been good at that to begin with. it's obvious, given the way that she's still seated next to him, given the way that she hasn't offered to find some other room in this hellhole to sleep in, or stay in, or get cleaned up in. the weather likely isn't going to let up for hours; there's no point in getting drenched in blood and rainwater when they can wait for the foggy, early hours of a grey morning.
so she considers it, as she tilts her head the other way, looking at the rest of the bed--and then tilts again, to look at him, smiling. )
Think the sheets are clean? I've heard getting beneath them really gets the blood pumping.
( as if sleeping is a foreign concept. as if she can't really recall it happening at all. as if some muddied memory of a bed and pain and torture are the only things she can dredge up. )
I might be willing to keep a guy warm, but only if he keeps me entertained.
( no idea if he's taking the bait, really. not that it's really bait: leon's already hooked, at least enough to keep coming back, and she doesn't even have to tip his chin with a pink fingernail or leave her panties behind in his room to prove it. it's that do-good nature of his, maybe, or his need to look out for someone relatively helpless; with a badge or without, he's far better with a gun than she is, after all, and it takes a good shot to take down some of the monsters lurking around building corners and abandoned alleyways. bullets are a commodity that will eventually run out. better to start in with a metal pipe than a pistol, but she won't critique his methods.
a familiar place, or so her thoughts say. a familiar entrance, that she shoulders through, a ratty convenience store bag hanging from one hand, a few holes punched in it near the top, as though it's seen just as much of the city as she has. up through the back entrance to the door that leads to the dressing rooms--a door that she stays behind, at first, leaving it shut.
rather than open it, she puts her back to it, shoulders against the glass; her smile lifts, falters, drops again as she lilts behind her. )
Are you properly cuffed, or are you still back here?
( the silence--or lack of it--will give her an answer; she's not sure which one will be the more disappointing. after all, true to her word, she's back with supplies: including, in fact, a package of those stupid little drink umbrellas, something hard-earned from one of the shattered convenience stores down the road.
whether he answers or not, she's opening the door anyway. hopefully, it's without monsters, too. )
( what does he see when he looks at her? good question. she's an attractive woman — and yes, he does notice, even if he has a spectacular capacity to turn that part of his brain off these days. he sees a stubborn determination to linger in the memory of place that is no good for her, which is relatable in a way it should not be. and he sees a warmth and easiness that he is drawn to, almost despite himself. he sees someone that doesn't belong in the situation she seems to be trapped in, and if anything that is what he'll probably fixate on for the rest of their interactions as the eternal failed white knight.
and yeah, so maybe he looks at her and sees an escape from the empty aching loneliness, if at least for a little while. proof to himself he hasn't spent six years waiting for Ada to show up and prove it all meant something. maybe it evens out if she's using him for similar ends. people use him all the time, there's honestly something refreshing about getting to buy into it for once. )
I don't think I've seen anything clean since I got here.
( he's just being 100. the entire town is some degree of moth ridden, blood stained, dust covered, mold spotted, or some combination of all of them. all things considered, these sheets are simply musty, not noticeably filthy. and considering his livelihood involves stomping through sewers and cutting through undead and getting their viscera all over them, Leon is not as troubled as he ought to be about the state of the sheets in a seedy hotel. if he's supposed to be the one to hit the brakes because of already used sheets, Maria is barking up the wrong tree. Leon was traumatized directly after graduation, he's still stuck on frat boy standards in all sorts of ways.
Maria is probably also barking up the wrong tree asking Mr. Glowering Grimdark Killjoy to be entertaining, but luckily he has a dumb sense of humor somewhere in the mire of his edgy pouting. ) Want me to dance or something? ( he asks, mostly joking. unless ??? he leans closer anyway, completely ignoring the fact this has to be the 3rd jump from hot & cold in the past fifteen minutes. he's talked himself into enjoying her touch and it may not last long, so if she intends to take advantage she should strike while the iron is hot. )
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Date: 2025-05-28 08:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-05-29 12:02 am (UTC)( he's joking. ...mostly joking. )
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Date: 2025-05-29 11:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-05-30 12:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-05-30 11:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-05-31 12:32 am (UTC)( HINT HINT BABE WHERE YOU AT ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ rattles the bars of his strip club dressing room cage )
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Date: 2025-06-01 10:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-06-03 04:07 am (UTC)( and wouldn't that be a change? he's never gotten to be the damsel* before! )
* only because he is completely unaware of the multitude of times ada saved his dumb ass
no subject
Date: 2025-06-08 09:19 pm (UTC)but it's a deal, anyway, which she answers with a smile, instead of agreement--a shallow lie, maybe, but it means that it could truthfully go either way.
and what does leon see, looking back at her, saying things like that? she writes him off and he comes back again with an addendum; she can't seem to find the right way to color in the lines, but then she's never been good at that to begin with. it's obvious, given the way that she's still seated next to him, given the way that she hasn't offered to find some other room in this hellhole to sleep in, or stay in, or get cleaned up in. the weather likely isn't going to let up for hours; there's no point in getting drenched in blood and rainwater when they can wait for the foggy, early hours of a grey morning.
so she considers it, as she tilts her head the other way, looking at the rest of the bed--and then tilts again, to look at him, smiling. )
Think the sheets are clean? I've heard getting beneath them really gets the blood pumping.
( as if sleeping is a foreign concept. as if she can't really recall it happening at all. as if some muddied memory of a bed and pain and torture are the only things she can dredge up. )
I might be willing to keep a guy warm, but only if he keeps me entertained.
no subject
Date: 2025-06-10 07:30 pm (UTC)a familiar place, or so her thoughts say. a familiar entrance, that she shoulders through, a ratty convenience store bag hanging from one hand, a few holes punched in it near the top, as though it's seen just as much of the city as she has. up through the back entrance to the door that leads to the dressing rooms--a door that she stays behind, at first, leaving it shut.
rather than open it, she puts her back to it, shoulders against the glass; her smile lifts, falters, drops again as she lilts behind her. )
Are you properly cuffed, or are you still back here?
( the silence--or lack of it--will give her an answer; she's not sure which one will be the more disappointing. after all, true to her word, she's back with supplies: including, in fact, a package of those stupid little drink umbrellas, something hard-earned from one of the shattered convenience stores down the road.
whether he answers or not, she's opening the door anyway. hopefully, it's without monsters, too. )
no subject
Date: 2025-06-19 05:18 pm (UTC)and yeah, so maybe he looks at her and sees an escape from the empty aching loneliness, if at least for a little while. proof to himself he hasn't spent six years waiting for Ada to show up and prove it all meant something. maybe it evens out if she's using him for similar ends. people use him all the time, there's honestly something refreshing about getting to buy into it for once. )
I don't think I've seen anything clean since I got here.
( he's just being 100. the entire town is some degree of moth ridden, blood stained, dust covered, mold spotted, or some combination of all of them. all things considered, these sheets are simply musty, not noticeably filthy. and considering his livelihood involves stomping through sewers and cutting through undead and getting their viscera all over them, Leon is not as troubled as he ought to be about the state of the sheets in a seedy hotel. if he's supposed to be the one to hit the brakes because of already used sheets, Maria is barking up the wrong tree. Leon was traumatized directly after graduation, he's still stuck on frat boy standards in all sorts of ways.
Maria is probably also barking up the wrong tree asking Mr. Glowering Grimdark Killjoy to be entertaining, but luckily he has a dumb sense of humor somewhere in the mire of his edgy pouting. ) Want me to dance or something? ( he asks, mostly joking. unless ??? he leans closer anyway, completely ignoring the fact this has to be the 3rd jump from hot & cold in the past fifteen minutes. he's talked himself into enjoying her touch and it may not last long, so if she intends to take advantage she should strike while the iron is hot. )