forum Lets Get a Dystopian One on One (Closed)

Started August 06, 2018 by @Desvelarse pets

tune

“You seem like the type to like the finer things,” Thatcher said as a moment, referring to the expensive looking jewelry that the young woman was picking apart.

“Depends.” She said, looking up for a moment, “I don’t steal for myself.” She explained before looking back down.

“Who do you steal for, then?” Thatcher questioned, his arms folding loosely over his chest. He couldn’t believe he was over here questioning some criminal. This wasn’t now he planned to spend his day.

“People are suffering in the slums, I steal for them so they have enough to feed themselves and their families,” Eve shrugged, “That’s all.”

“Interesting.. You could still do what you do now, you know. That’s essentially what we do, anyways,” Thatcher pointed out with a heavy frown.

“What do you do? And be specific, Mr Mysterious.” Eve said, leaning back and propping her feet up on the table.

Thatcher frowned at the name, but answered the young woman’s question anyways. “I’m with the resistance,” he answered, feeling like that was enough to tell her at the moment.

“Sorry, I’m not interested in getting myself killed.” She answered, her gaze turning cold and hard.

“You’d be a new recruit, you wouldn’t be going out into the field at all,” Thatcher said, his foot tapping. This woman was frustrating, and he wondered if this was even worth it.

Eve noted the movement and smirked, “I’m pretty sure you’re in need of people and I’m probably more skilled then many of the people you already have,” She shrugged, “Still not interested.”

“Believe me, you’d be one of the least skilled people,” Thatcher snapped. “You are sloppy and reckless, leaving much in your path to found and shot by an officer.”

“Reckless, maybe, sloppy now…” Eve stood and braced her hands on the table, “I’m not sloppy, it’s called having fun. Or are you so stupid you can’t comprehend what that word means?”

“No, I know exactly what I mean. I call leaving a body in the open sloppy,” Thatcher responded, saying firm on the thought that he was completely correct about his assumptions.

Eve’s mouth twisted into something that was a scowl but yet a wicked grin, “Your body might be the next found lying in street at this rate.” She snarled at him, one hand reaching for the dagger.

Thatcher shook his head slowly to himself, leaning against a doorframe. “No, I don’t believe it will,” he said, arms crossing over his chest as he watched the young woman.

“Get. Out.” Was all Eve said back, the dagger now in her hand and ready to use of need be. She’d had enough of whoever this guy was. She should kill him, wanted to kill him but not yet.

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Mortem,” Thatcher said after a moment, eyeing her for a moment before stepping away, his pace quick as he walked.

Eve let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding after the guy left.
She was going out again tonight, to clear her head and hoped she wouldn’t see him, but he looked like a guy who stayed true to his word.

Thatcher left the building, rubbing at his clean shaven jaw as he walked back to his headquarters. He would have to keep a few people out on the streets, just to watch any of Mortem’s activity.

That evening, Eve was back in her street outfit, weapons strapped to her side. That guy had out her in a sour mood and needed something to take her mind off it. She knew there were fights going on in a nearby bar and decided on going there.

Thatcher had a few of his men go out and watch the area around the building, and he was eventually alerted that the young woman had left. He told them to keep an eye on her and keep him updated.

Eve mumbled to herself as she entered the bar, and sighed up for the next fight in a few minutes. While she waited, she grabbed a beer and downed it in a matter of moments before walking over to the pits.

Thatcher waited a few more minutes before growing restless. He preferred to be out in the field, even if it was a tad dangerous at night. He gave a huff, collecting his trench coat and leaving the building, heading towards the bar.

The guy was big, that was true and had quite a muscular build but Eve didn’t care. She could hear the people placing bets above her and rolled her eyes. The bell sounded and the guy charged at her, Eve nimbly moving out of the way so he hit the wall face first with a loud crunch.

Thatcher arrived in the bar, where a fight seemed to be going on. He stayed towards the back of the crowds, though he was able to see fine due to his height. He ordered a glass of whiskey from the bartender, leaning back against the bar he sipped the drink. Sure enough, in the fight was the young woman herself.