IND. CHLOE DECKER OF FOX'S LUCIFER. PRIVATE, SELECTIVE, EXCLUSIVE. ESTABLISHED JULY 2016. WRITTEN BY BECCA, SHE/HER, CST. PAGES UNDER CO !
ARE YOU AT ALL AWARE OF HOW DICKISH YOU SOUND?
01. I CLAIM NO CREATIVE LICENSE OVER FOX'S TELEVISION SHOW 'LUCIFER,' ITS ORIGINAL FRANCHISE, OR ANY OF ITS AFFILIATES. THIS BLOG IS FOR ROLEPLAYING PURPOSES ONLY.
02. NO PLAGIARISM, FORCED SHIPS, GODMODDING, METAGAMING, HATE, ETC. KEEP IT CLEAN.
03. I MAKE ALL MY ICONS. PLEASE DON'T TAKE THEM.
04. I TAG BASIC TRIGGERS, BUT DON'T HESITATE TO LET ME KNOW IF YOU NEED ME TO TAG SOMETHING FOR YOU. PLEASE TRY TO TAG YOUR NSFW, ANIMAL ABUSE, LIVEBLOGGING, AND SPIDERS. sidenote, IF YOUR BLOG CONTAINS ANY CONTENT RELATING TO EATING DISORDERS OR DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, I WON'T FOLLOW OR INTERACT WITH YOU.
05. MUN IS 22, MUSE IS A GROWN ASS WOMAN. I TAG MY NSFW. WHILE I'M DOWN TO EXPLOER DARKER THEMES WITH MINORS, I'M DEF NOT COMFORTABLE WRITING ANY KIND OF SEXUAL ANYTHING WITH ANYONE UNDER 18.
06. MUTUALS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME TO TURN MEMES INTO THREADS IF A NEW POST IS MADE - DON'T REBLOG THE ASK!
07. I'M EXTREMELY PICKY ABOUT WHAT I SHIP. CHEMISTRY IS EVERYTHING AND I LIKE TO GET TO KNOW MY WRITING PARTNERS OOC BEFORE I CONSIDER SHIPPING; THIS GOES FOR PLATONIC AND PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS AS WELL. PLEASE DON'T EVER FORCE A SHIP OR MAKE ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT ANYTHING UNLESS WE'VE TALKED ABOUT IT!
08. SKYPE AND KIK ARE BOTH AVAILABLE TO MUTUALS UPON REQUEST, AND YOU CAN ALWAYS HIT ME UP ON TUMBLR IM. THANKS FOR READING!
NAME : CHLOE DECKER AGE : THIRTY - THREE HEIGHT : FIVE FEET, SIX INCHES WEIGHT : 125 LBS HAIR : DIRTY BLONDE EYES : STRIKING BLUE SEX / GENDER : CIS FEMALE SPECIES : HUMAN LOCATION : LOS ANGELES, CA
FAMILY : PENELOPE DECKER ( MOTHER ), BEATRICE "TRIXIE" ESPINOZA ( DAUGHTER ), DAN ESPINOZA ( EX - HUSBAND ). FATHER'S NAME UNKNOWN ( ALSO A COP ).
SCARS : THROUGH - AND - THROUGH BULLET WOUND UNDERNEATH HER LEFT COLLARBONE ( SHOT BY JIMMY BARNES, SAVED BY LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR. ) .
OCCUPATION : FORMER ACTRESS, CURRENT HOMICIDE DETECTIVE WITH THE LOS ANGELES POLICE DEPARTMENT .
“I’m insured against kidnapping for up to 10 million.”
‘ can you — can you at least PRETEND to be taking this seriously ? ’
it never fails : back to the grindstone for a matter of minutes & he’s already on his third punchline. nothing she hasn’t grown accustomed to, except for the fact that he’s been trailing after her like a puppy for the past couple of weeks, complaining, quipping, & babbling in that way people do when they’re nervous. ❪ not for a lack of trying, but he STILL won’t tell her what’s wrong. ❫
she ducks her head as she side - steps him, mostly to hide an exasperated smile that isn’t — in spite of her best efforts — without a dash of genuine fondness.
actually, she almost laughs.
‘ i think you’re safe, anyway. nobody wants to kidnap a guy who never shuts up. ’
“Piss off.” “An idea is like a virus.” “Why can’t you go home?” “No one said it’s getting worse.” “So you knew about these risks…” “Well it’s not me who never gets to see my family again, now is it?” “No room for tourists.” “Don’t be silly.” “You mustn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.” “Do you still dream?” “There’s really nothing to be said.” “You were disappointed I couldn’t be you.” “I was disappointed that you tried.” “You’re in a dream.” “You’re not real.” “Pain is in the mind.” “They’re going to attack us?” “We don’t have time for this.” “Come back to reality.” “Admit it, you don’t believe in one reality anymore.” “I’ve got somebody better.” “The price on my head, was that dead or alive?” “Don’t remember. See if they start shooting.” “So this is your idea of losing a tail.” “I need to protect my investments.” “S/he’s been shot for gods sake!” “Don’t tell me to calm down!” “I’m here to protect you.” “What’s down there?” “Are you so certain of your world?” “Choose to stay here.” “Choose me.” “You can’t stay here to be with her/him.” “I’ll still honor the arrangement.” “Why is it so important to dream?” “Quick, give me a kiss.” “You infected my mind.” “I was trying to save you.” “Don’t you want to take a leap of faith?” “I need to get home. That’s all I care about right now.” “I have to let you go.” “Have you come to kill me?” “No, I can’t. You know I can’t do that.” “I’m the only thing you do believe in anymore.” “Your condescension, as always, is much appreciated.” “I think positive emotion trumps negative emotion every time.” “We all yearn for reconciliation, for catharsis.” “Might? We’re gonna need to do a little better than “might”.” “I have it under control.” “I’m sorry, I mistook you for a friend.” “Whatever I do, I can’t change this moment.” “I’m insured against kidnapping for up to 10 million.”
ANCHORING DOUBT, flooding the veins of such a precious life. he notices, & stands patient at the shoreline, waiting for the day she might rise. it must get exhausting, struggling to keep yourself afloat in a riptide of denial. hands pocketed, he resigns.
‘––––– perhaps over a bottle of pinot grigio, naked in front of the fireplace ? you’d be amazed at the conversations i can hold in the throes of passion. ’
what she’d be AMAZED by is any conversation with him at all that didn’t include a dig about getting her naked. ❪ let’s pretend it’s never crossed her mind in a moment of weakness or ten. ❫
‘ you’re on thin ice, pal. do this one thing for me & we can maybe discuss the remote POSSIBILITY of you staying for dinner. just dinner, lucifer. ’
A RISK INDEED ; his sleeves veil the goosebumps scattering across his forearms. ❝ she’s got better things to do, ❞ and he shrugs, a noncommittal little thing. ❝ never liked monopoly much, either. ❞ because calling your mother an alcoholic bitch wasn’t as easy as murphy would like it to be, even after years of practice.
‘ better things to do. ’ something sharp sits on the tip of her tongue, & she has to remind herself to maintain professionalism : it isn’t her place to chastise a shitty parent, no matter how tempted she might be on kind of a personal level. ‘ right. that’s — um, good to know. i’ll make sure to bring that up when she gets here. ’ if. if she gets here.
”DETECTIVE chloe decker?” head peeking into the unfamiliar but not unusual office, essentially inhabiting a police station all his life. “nice office.” latch of the door shutting ever so quietly, standing facing her as his eyes survey the room. a trick that had taken him SEVERAL years to master. “your charming partner who literally looks like he should be the suspect in the case you’re working, directed me to you. stiles stilinski, by the way.” pulling his bag open and producing a file of the murders and placing it upon her desk. opening it with ease for her to peruse. entirely aware of how insane he appears upon a first impression. “so i was watching the news and something seemed - off. i don’t know, missing. so i watched back the footage and -” he presents the images of the bodies with no explanation of how he attained such material. “i don’t think these murders were committed by anything - HUMAN. you can’t seriously tell me you’ve seen a human being tear through bodies LIKE THAT. so it’s either a feralsomething or a very, very angry robot that is trying to prove it’s superiority to the human race. think the new ‘kong’ movie but with robots.” – @charmrepulsed
not her office. dan’s, in fact, which could easily be another bone of contention between them : that despite sharing the same rank, he’s in here while she’s still driving a desk in the bullpen with everyone else. she’s sifting through paperwork & microfiche, only half - listening until the boy plants a case file directly in front of her. a response begins as she looks up, halts abruptly the second she sees what he’s presenting.
‘ yeah, i can’t discuss an ongoing investiga — ’
HER investigation. in a manila stamped with the LAPD’s logo, no less. feral somethings & angry robots are the least of her concerns right now.
‘ uh — how did you get these ? these are crime scene photos of murder victims. you’d better have one hell of an explanation, kid. ’
HIS HEART IS NOT COLD, despite what others choose to believe ❪ he is a kaleidoscope of emotions on a wide - range spectrum, & it troubles him. ❫ tongue in cheek, he volleys another quip.
‘ don’t threaten me with a good time, detective. ’
‘––––– it did get me killed. the devil’s work is never finished, my dear. ’& then he pauses, as if taking a moment to consider his options. ‘ no, i said i could pull strings to his benefit. nothing about wiping the slate clean. however, i’m notoriously written as being sinfully persuasive when i want to be. ’
there it is : that ludicrous claim, the one apparently lacking horns & a tail. the devil. it flies in the face of everything she believes ; more importantly, everything she DOESN’T. but three times, he’s been riddled with bullets & walked away unscathed. it did get me killed. ❪ you saw it.i don’t know what i saw. ❫
‘ of course you are. ’
‘ ––––––– i still need you to pick up trixie. we can talk about your … persuasive string - pulling later. ’
HE SCOFFS, IF only to mask the origins of genuine mirth spreading over his expression. ❝ does she, ❞ murphy muses, nodding his head before the motion ceases, and he’s left looking at the sturdy, metallic table. ❝ wonder if she gets it from her mom — ❞ eyes flick up to detective decker, and with the slight cant of his head, a brow arches towards his temple with curiosity.
a thoughtful hum. ‘ could be. you’d have to ask her what she thinks. ’ no comment on that ephemeral lapse of bravado, but it didn’t slip by unnoticed. the next words are a calculated risk. ‘ so what about your mom ? she usually a no - show at times like this ? ’
‘ okay, you know what ? that’s it. i have been walking on eggshells with you for WEEKS now, just hoping that MAYBE you’d come around & actually tell me what’s wrong instead of — instead of shutting me out, & i am done. what the hell is going on with you, lucifer ? i mean, what could possibly be so terrible that you can’t even TALK to me ?? ’
her voice raises without breaking into a full - blown shout, but there’s an edge of desperation to it that makes her physically cringe. she’s frustrated ; even more than that, she’s WORRIED. & worry manifests into something that feels a lot like fear, because it dries her throat & leaves a leaden pit in her stomach every time she looks at him. i will never lie to you. he told her that months ago. lying by omission isn’t better.
it’s almost worse.
‘ i’m sorry, i’m ––––––– ’ a long, leveled breath is drawn in & released. tone softens, quietly distills as concern settles itself into the crease between furrowed brows. three tentative steps close the literal distance between them while doing nothing to span the metaphorical. ‘ i just mean — you can trust me. i shouldn’t have to tell you that. & this — whatever this is — i want to help. ’