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?
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02. NO PLAGIARISM, FORCED SHIPS, GODMODDING, METAGAMING, HATE, ETC. KEEP IT CLEAN.
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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.
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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 .
❛ not sure if you’re aware, but you keep really terrible company. ❜ he might still be a little bitter about lucifer practically FORCING him to reveal his crimes, even in such little detail. but he digresses —-
❛ not that i can talk, i guess. for some reason, everyone thinks i’m an asshole. ❜
‘ terrible, huh ? ’ something she’s learned about lucifer morningstar : his methods tend to have the most adverse effect on the ones hiding a GUILTY CONSCIENCE. head tilts, blue eyes narrowing slightly in calculated appraisal. ‘ i’m gonna go out on a limb & say you’ve met my partner. ’
“I need to get home. That’s all I care about right now.”
‘ i’m working on it, i promise you that, but you gotta give me SOMETHING. ’
it’s the bottom of the ninth. he isn’t just being implicated anymore : they’re fighting to pin a murder on him, & the prosecution is out for blood. one cop saying he’s innocent won’t hold up without concrete proof, an ironclad alibi, anything. the window of opportunity to plead his case is almost shut.
they’ll try him as an adult. twenty - five to life is the best case scenario, here, assuming they don’t shoot for life without parole ––––––– or worse.
❪ she told him she’d never let that happen. ❫
‘ what about your friend, uh — ’ case file flipped open, the name pops up after a few seconds of diligent skimming. ‘ mbege. you said he was with you that day, right ? think he’d testify ? ’
YOU ACTUALLY LAUGH WHEN she calls you gandhi, accepting the handcuffs with ease. there’s no reason to be worried or anxious, seeing as there’s only two options ahead. either she puts you in jailor she doesn’t. a predictable future. it’s comforting. there’s a carefree nature to your smile as you look at her. she’s pretty, if you pay attention. and this time you do, as she clamps the metal rings around thick wrists. you won’t act on it though. you never do.
‘if you wanted to handcuff me & take me with you, all you had to do was ask.’
typical. ‘ ––––––– mm. you, uh, remember that whole right to remain silent thing ? why don’t you go ahead & give it a shot. ’
she’s maybe a two on the exasperation scale, otherwise unfazed : he isn’t the first to pull this routine & he probably won’t be the last. once he’s secured in the back seat, she climbs behind the wheel — cuts a glance at him in the rearview before keying the ignition & shifting into drive. california state law allows for a 48 - hour hold, then they either charge him or let him walk.
so, NO PRESSURE.
‘ & you can wipe that look off your face, too. my partner’s got a real talent for making people talk. ’
‘ –––––– yeah, sure it is. that’s your thing, huh ? mind over matter ? seems kinda zen for a guy in your position, don’t you think ? ’
a tic of her jaw, steel gaze leveled as she swaps out her glock for a pair of handcuffs. everything they have is arguably circumstantial at this point, but it’s enough for probable cause ; more than enough to bring him in, & that’s all she needs. metal snaps against wrists, a satisfying click as the mechanism locks. one hand braces against his forearm while the other presses into his shoulder to steer him towards her car.
‘ save it for the interrogation room, gandhi. you’re coming with me. ’
a last - ditch effort to gain a little traction, but he’s looking at her like she committed the ultimate breach of trust & it’s terrifying. ❪ maybe he’s telling the truth. maybe he’s been telling the truth all this time like he said he would & she was too obstinate to allow even a hypothetical scenario in which it could be real. when i see something i can’t explain, yeah, i look for answers. he bled when her bullet grazed him, just like anyone else would. the devil doesn’t bleed, right ? the devil doesn’t exist. maybe ––––––– ❫
do i scare you ?
no.
‘ lucifer. ’
maybe none of it matters, because at the end of the day none of it changes what DOES : he’s made quite the lasting impression. somewhere along the line, he managed to get under her skin in a way that she just can’t seem to shake. & she cares. probably more than she should. it won’t end well for either of them.
she takes one cautious step towards him, a measured approach, testing the waters ; he’s never looked at her like this before. she doesn’t like it. can’t reconcile the man in front of her with the man who’s HAD HER BACK at almost every turn for the last seven months.
‘ okay. let’s say i believe you. ’
three feet away & she stays put, doesn’t break eye contact.
‘ let’s say — you really are who you say you are. start there. now are you gonna tell me what’s got you so scared, or do we have to keep going in circles ‘til i figure it out myself ? ’
HE NOTICES IT, the game: she’s stopped playing, or at least paused it for a moment. sometimes people need a second to drink it in, the shocking truth, that some parents just don’t make for good ones. murphy needed a second too, a few years back. ❝ m’kidding, ❞ he shrugs it off. ❝ she’ll show, detective. little tipsy, maybe. ❞ his voice pitches, words stretch — he’s squinting his eyes as if he’s putting on a little show, telling her a joke.
she read the files, the reports, the testimonies ; she studied the evidence. it’s damn near impossible to sell anything less when the department is itching for a scapegoat, for someone to blame — she learned that too well on the palmetto case — but a couple of fist - fights & misdemeanors don’t make this kid a murderer.
‘ you know, if she’s indisposed, ’ the clinical term for IRRESPONSIBLE, ‘ we can do this another time. or i can make a call, see if your caseworker’ll sit in with us instead. it’s up to you. ’