[SEMI-CLOSED] i am my mother's savage daughter.

[killtime]

Who ⬤ The Bastard Andromache & her associates
What ⬤ Catch-all adventures for the Worst Cop Woman™
When ⬤ Late August through September
Where ⬤ The Department offices, Enma and Shuten Territories, etc.
Content Warnings ⬤ Profanity, violence, substance use, sex. To be updated as needed!

⬤ Permission's Post
⬤ @ whaler#7695 for starters!
⬤ Wildcards welcome from existing CR

Comments

andy's office crew

[killtime]

[ She's never really prided herself as an intellectual. Nearly seven thousand years she's been alive now, and most of that time she's spent learning various methods to kill a man. But there's not much use for that here. Here, in her office, what they have is piles of books and papers from the Department archives. It's too small a space for three people to work comfortably, but somehow the eclectic team of Andy, Jon, and Fukuda are managing it. The work is slow going. There's a lot of note-taking. Dog-earing. Copy-making. None of which are particularly Andy-esque skills.

So she's taken it upon herself to make coffee. It's the shitty office coffee. It probably still tastes a little salty. But caffeine is caffeine. Andy carries two mugs by the handle in one hand and a third in the other as she nudges her way back into her office. ]

Anything interesting yet? [ She sets the mugs down on her desk. Then she pulls open one of the drawers, taking out a flask to pour something that smells suspiciously like whiskey into her own coffee. ] Feels like we've been at this for a fucking age.

milf & meowboy

[killtime]

[ It still catches her off guard a little — the way he says those things to her so easily. The sincerity of it, offered to her without any hesitation at all. She isn't used to that. She wasn't sure she actually wanted to be missed. Or maybe it's just that she feels a twinge of guilt when she likes that she is. ]

Well, I'm here now. [ Her wryness is a bit softer than she intends. ] Hi yourself.

[ They must make an odd-looking couple, standing there outside the door. Her, with her naturally severe features, her clothes dark and masculine — then him, with that earnest look on his face, their relative ages ambiguous enough that a person could hardly guess what their relationship might be. At least until she leans in to kiss him hello. ]

andy & emily

[killtime]

[ She's not handling it well.

For a few days, she didn't handle it at all. Didn't let herself feel anything. Or think too hard about it. But despair has always come naturally to her. Misery is one of her favorite vices, just like the sex and booze and cigarettes. It's familiar. And it settles into her bones all too easily. She can't even stand to look at herself — at the peonies spilling down over her shoulders, inked into her skin. It makes her whole body hurt with grief, as if it were a physical thing. A bleeding wound. A gaping hole in her chest.

She vents on the inanimate things in their apartment. There's a broken lamp she doesn't bother to clean up before crawling into bed, burying herself in blankets and nothingness for what feels like days. No one sees her. She should say something. Tell the others she's alright. Or that she will be. She should. She should. ]

‎️‍🔥 ember overflow!! ‎️‍🔥

[killtime]

( ORIGINAL THREAD )

kazuma & andy

[killtime]

[ Her arrival at the clinic hadn't been subtle. Everyone in the building probably heard her muffled shouting through the walls from the room where Kamui was supposed to be recovering in peace. But after a little while, she'd gotten quiet — their conversation had become more private — and when she leaves that room, her mood is a bit more subdued. Her temper is hardly more than embers now, even though she still has that crease between her eyebrows and a slight downturn in her mouth.

Hard to say whose bad luck it is when she glances up on her way out and catches Kazuma's eye in the hallway, her expression shifting with muted recognition. It's probably less enthusiasm than most acquaintances deserve when she deadpans by way of greeting: ]

Oh. It's you.