eira trèmont. d6 fin

tick 12a / calla RP Tutor 2,233 POSTS Pronouns: she/her last seen Nov 14, 2024 23:28:36 GMT -5 just a litle creacher	eira trèmont. d6 fin Oct 13, 2019 23:00:15 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by tick 12a / calla on Oct 13, 2019 23:00:15 GMT -5 EIRA TRÈMONT ( I C Y ) eighteen nostalgia cartel plot
	Last Edit: Oct 14, 2019 20:37:16 GMT -5 by tick 12a / calla ⇀ tracker ↼ ⇀ 2024 upat ↼

tick 12a / calla
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2,233 POSTS

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last seen Nov 14, 2024 23:28:36 GMT -5

just a litle creacher

eira trèmont. d6 fin Oct 14, 2019 1:26:46 GMT -5

Quote

Post by tick 12a / calla on Oct 14, 2019 1:26:46 GMT -5

E I R A

Burying bodies is dirty work.

Literally and figuratively.

Because some of those suckers are damn heavy, and they don't want to budge no matter how many times you try to drag them into those real nice extra large extra strong industrial trash bags we use.

Sometimes it's just easier to cut them up and tote them away piece by piece.

The mess isn't even that bad.

But I guess that's what you're conditioned for when your old man's a pathologist. Cold corpses never bothered me because I was studying anatomy before I knew my times tables, ripping open my teddy bears just to see what was inside.

I remember when dad remarried after he and mom split up, and the first thing his new wife did was walk in on me using craft scissors to dissect one of the rats I'd found out back. She had screamed so loud that it made my hand slip, makeshift scalpel cut right through the postcaval vein and ruined the whole damn thing. So I threw the carcass at her while she stood gaping in the doorway and listened to the screams get louder.

She had to go back down to her faux fancy dinner party knowing there was rat guts on her dress and I think she had it out for me ever since. But I mean bitch had it coming, I was just trying to play doctor.

I threw a lot more tantrums after the divorce, knew there was a soft spot there where I could get anything I wanted. Whenever I told dad that I was missing mom, that I was feeling just a teensy bit unloved, he'd buy me some shiny new toy, enough that it wasn't long before I had a whole new closet of shoes and and stuffed animals and surgical tools.

When I turned fourteen he let me tag along to his work and I spent the whole day beside him, watched him cut and examine the guy on the table. I took notes the whole time and was more studious than I ever was at school.

He even let me hold the head.

The witch he married tried to cut me off once, said I'd end up abusing my inheritance, but I had dad wrapped around my finger long before she did. He didn't care that I was putting laxatives in her tea and fresh frog legs in her purse.

My weekly allowance was higher than hers, my room was the biggest one in the whole house.

I was untouchable; daddy's little diener.

And she was never a threat to me, just an inconvenience, a gnat flying around my head.

My own mom was never in the picture, but she knew she'd never take that place. Although that didn't mean she didn't try, didn't act like everything in the house belonged to her.

The idea of her ever being a part of our family was laughable.

But she had swindled and drank away a good chunk of our fortune before karma stepped in and I found her lying at the bottom of the basement stairs. She had probably been sloshed out of her mind, teetering on those six inch heels she had spend hundreds on and took one wrong step, fallen down the steep flight and broken her neck.

It was easy enough to hide the body until dad left for the day, wrapping it one of those ornate carpets we never used and tucking it behind the armoire. I told dad she had gone to the market that morning, something about tracking down the newest Capitol fashion and he kissed my forehead before he closed the front door.

I ended up burying her in the backyard, where mom used to grow lilies and snowdrops and peonies. I wrote the letter too, the one I left on their bed that said how she was feeling ignored and lonely and how she couldn't stand it anymore, how she had met someone much younger who knew how to provide for her.

Dad was devastated, although I couldn't understand why. I never thought she was all that. But dad's always been kind of an idiot, bumbling around with all his money and way too eager to please. Not that I minded, because he just started spending more on me, let me do whatever the hell I wanted.

I guess he didn't want to lose me too.

It gave me a lot more freedom and a lot more resources. I bleached the shit out of my hair to see if I could still be traced, started working on people instead of on rats. Hands-on experience is the best kind of experience anyways, and cadavers always seem to be in supply around here.

I was sneaking into morgues when other girls my age were sneaking into parties, but now they're the ones showing up on my doorstep, hysterical and raving because they might've accidentally maybe murdered their boyfriend last night after he cheated and they lost their cool, but word on the street is I can help.

It isn't without a price though, my special services, unless you're a smokin' hot babe maybe, but that's only ever worked once. A few favours here, some cash there, and yeah, I'll hide the body for you.

I am the best after all.

Last Edit: Oct 14, 2019 20:34:32 GMT -5 by tick 12a / calla

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tick 12a / calla RP Tutor 2,233 POSTS Pronouns: she/her last seen Nov 14, 2024 23:28:36 GMT -5 just a litle creacher	eira trèmont. d6 fin Oct 14, 2019 20:37:36 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by tick 12a / calla on Oct 14, 2019 20:37:36 GMT -5 Python uwu
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Python Retired Staff 4,515 POSTS Pronouns: She/Her last seen Oct 27, 2024 23:26:22 GMT -5	eira trèmont. d6 fin Oct 14, 2019 22:10:05 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Python on Oct 14, 2019 22:10:05 GMT -5 god i LOVE her