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 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 ? ’
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. ’
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.
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 ? ’
SO SHE’S THE GOOD COP. murphy theorizes they’re always the ones with shorter fuses ; they’re the ones who play pretend, after all. he scoffs, shoulders rising and falling with the motion. ❝ i’ll put it in the suggestion box on my way out. cards, monopoly no, actually, that’d get too violent. ❞ and he pushes, simply because he can.
a slight smile flickers comfortably across her face. no doubt : it’s a solid routine, tried & true. he’s probably done it countless times before, probably with other cops. she doesn’t take the bait — unlike her ex, he won’t get a rise out of her with a few well - delivered barbs. ‘ i’ll bet. my daughter has a real competitive streak, but you wouldn’t know it to look at her. monopoly’s kind of a blood sport. ’
‘ yeah. i will. i’m on your side — but, uh. you don’t hear that a lot, huh ? ’ she doesn’t have to be a social worker to recognize the signs ; father out of the picture, mother a negligent drunk, smart kid digging himself into an early grave by his own misguided machinations. ironic, when so much of what he does seems driven by that one base instinct : SURVIVAL. it makes her heartsick.
she recognizes, too, what it must’ve taken for someone like him to consciously reach out & ask for help.
‘ hey. i’ll do everything in my power to get you out of here, but you’re gonna have to TRUST me. & believe me, i know that’s a big deal. ’
he had no qualms mouthing off the last guy who was here, the one to bring him in ; it’s not his first rodeo with the police. he shrugs, extending an arm to usher her in. ❝ here t’ keep me company, or — ? ❞
‘ something like that. ’ technically, she isn’t even allowed to ask him about the WEATHER without breaching protocol. a quick, passing appraisal of the room ; cramped, sparsely furnished, as these places tend to be ; & she aims for an empty chair. ‘ wish i’d brought a deck of cards. ’
‘ john murphy — ? detective decker, LAPD. i talked to your caseworker on the phone, she said she’s been trying to track down your mom so i can ask you a few questions. you mind if i sit ? ’ // @enduringwill.