| Russian Roulette |

[Kuno]

JAXON ORTEGA

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Location:Jaxon's House

Jaxon's head lolled to the side. He fished around in his pockets some, staring blandly into space as his fingers found solace around a pack of cigarettes. The gang life had molded him into a social smoker. He never touched the hard drugs, no, but he found most gangsters could share a more natural conversation over a good cigarette or cigar. It was something to keep the fingers working and the mind running while you hid your true thoughts and feelings from the enemy.

The enemy. Ha. Even knowing Claire could be the death of him, his brain still refused to associate her as such.

The woman meandered around his living space as if she had always belonged. The gangster watched her, unmoving in the face of her joking tone, his face having grown naturally stoic. It truly was a sin to know someone so well they may as well have shared your body. His eyes roved over the curves, the dimples, and the brown locks that had once been his.

She was a stranger to him now, as estranged from him as he was from that loving boy he'd once been over ten years ago.

"No," Jaxon replied curtly to her question. There was the click of his lighter; a glowing red bloomed from betwixt his fingers, and he pulled away from his palms in a heady cloud of smoke, exhaling lightly off his cigarette. He glanced away. "I think I've had enough."

Except he wasn't talking to her anymore. He was talking to himself, gearing himself up for the next conversation. The alcohol still had him in a slump, but his mind was slowly returning. Slowly.

He blinked gradually, his thoughts forming sluggishly. The words came to him, and soon after, the conviction.

"Claire."

He exhaled her name with a puff of gray, his eyes placid.

"Who sent you?"

 

[Karo]

CLARISSE ELLISON-HYDE

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Location: Jaxon's Home

Of course, even sloppy drunk, Jaxon was keen enough to push past her lies and deflections. There was no flying under the radar this time– he'd earned the truth.

"God," Clarisse answered, her voice sober. "God has witnessed our sins and sent me to punish us both." Her eyes flitted upwards, as if searching for something on the ceiling. A stain, a fleck of paint, some kind of sign that this was all just some test and she had already passed. But there was nothing. Just perfect, stark white.

Of course, she thought, who is God to say what we should do? He's never done anything for either of us.

But the truth was, it was another force pushing her forward. A force truly omnipotent and punishing in all the ways God failed to be. As far as Clarisse was concerned, God had long left her to her affairs. Now there was only the fear of retaliation and the need for revenge.

Clarisse carefully slinked toward him, abandoning her glass on the bar cart. "Please Jaxon," she began, her voice sincere. "Make this easy for me."

She came to a stop in front of him, studying his face. She imagined his tanned skin turned pale and sallow. His deep dark eyes, lifelessly staring back at her. And his lips, the ones she once kissed so tenderly, tinged blue with frozen blood.

If he had any sense at all, he'd strike first. A part of her almost hoped he would. Maybe the night would end differently, with her lying lifeless on the floor. The thought was tempting. No more mob, no more endless revenge quest. Just darkness, an eternal void to swallow her up. Maybe great white clouds, or more likely, flames and sulfur.

No, she couldn't afford to think like that. This night had to end one way and one way only.

"I can do it any way you want. I can make it quick and painless if you just let me."