the cure you sought

o, foolish creatures that we are - for the sake of α ƖιттƖє ρƖєαѕυяє we have...

○ independent OC for The Devil’s Carnival, Repo! the Genetic Opera, & more ○ 10+ years RP experience, 3+ on tumblr ○ para preferred, but open to all RP styles ○ multiverse / multiship ○ friendly to OCs & characters from other fandoms ○ mun & muse 18+

“Kid– ” He paused, knowing that he shouldn’t be addressing her as such anymore. The most powerful woman on the globe, wasn’t she? Once he’d been released that night, it had been all over the papers, the bloodbath that had happened at the opera, and Shilo taking over GeneCo. That was how it had been, hadn’t it? He was still a little bitter about the short end of the stick he’d been dealt in all of that…. But what was he, other than a lowly grave robber after all?

Well, maybe not just like it. There seemed to be something a little different to the gesture now. 

The correct thing to do just then would be to call for help. Summon the GENcops. She was the head of GeneCo, and GeneCo had a very specific stance on graverobbers. Buying Zydrate from an unlicensed source is illegal. Graverobbers will be executed on sight, by order of GeneCo By-law No. 653-465. 

It might have been the correct thing to do, but it wasn’t right. They didn’t know each other well (or much at all--had they ever even really introduced themselves?), but this graverobber was something familiar in a world that was changing far, far too fast. 

Besides... if she turned him in, she’d have to explain what she was doing at this hour, outside GeneCo Tower, on her own. 

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve dreamed of performing at the Genetic Opera. Of the stage lights shining down on me, hundreds of people in the audience watching my every move–hanging on my every word.

“So witness it, people! All I have to do is sign the paper. All you have to do is pull the trigger!”

This isn’t how I pictured it.

“You want to pay me to kill my father?”

“I want you to do what is right. This man killed your mother–your mother. He betrayed you both. He’s a liar… and he poisoned you!”

It’s crazy. Impossible. Dad’s only ever protected me. He loves me. He’d never–

But there he is, in that Repo Man’s uniform. He said he was a doctor, that worked in a hospital and helped people. Now I know why he wouldn’t help Mag when I asked him to: he was the one hunting her, who wanted to rip out her eyes. He probably killed her tonight.

And Mom… that was just an accident. His own words. He really did kill her. But even if he did…

“I am not a murderer!”

“But you share your dad’s genetics–what if he passed this to you?”

“I don’t have to share his choices!”

How can Mr. Largo ask me to do this?

“Didn’t you say you were infected? Didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

I did. I did. Up until five minutes ago it was one of those truths that held the world together. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west and you have meds to take three times a day or you’ll drop dead just like Mom did.

And now I know Mom didn’t drop. And Dad’s a killer and Mag–my idol, the godmother I never knew I had–will never sing again. I’m not sure the sun will come back up in the morning now. The world is coming apart so fast my head is spinning.

I know I said I hate him but I suddenly, desperately need to know that at least his love and protection were the real thing. Please, I’m begging in my head, let there be at least that much to hang onto…

“I poisoned you.”

No. Oh God, please, no.

“I’m worse than Rotti. Imprisoned you… I couldn’t lose you!” Dad’s voice is raw. Near tears. The way it always is when I wake up from a fainting spell, those times when I miss my medicine. “What have I done? Forgive me, Shilo. I drugged your blood… oh, God, what have I done to you?”

What hasn’t he done? Locked me away from the world, prevented me from having a life. Made me hate the mother I never met for leaving me behind with nothing but a blood disease to remember her by.

Liar. Poisoner. Killer.

The gun is heavy in my hands. So heavy. People in the movies wave them around as if they weigh nothing at all.

Why does he deserve to live when he wouldn’t even let me? When good people like Mom and Mag and God knows who else had to die by his hand?

So heavy. The world is crumbling to dust beneath my feet and the weight of this gun and this choice are going to drag me down into nothing…