un. independent rachel olmstead ( bullet ) of amc's the killing, diverging from canon after 3.07. deux. this blog is for writing and entertainment purposes only.
material.
un. my writing will, at times, be trigger heavy. i'd advise you not to follow if you're sensitive to topics such as rape and assault, violence, etc. deux. some things will be tagged, others won't. if you need something tagged, contact me. i tag triggers with ' trigger / ' or ' trigger mention / '.
muse.
un. bullet is not an easy character to get along with. she's abrasive and confrontational, hot - headed, and has lived on the streets for upwards of two years. i won't water down her scrappy personality for anyone's benefit. deux. if her attitude becomes an issue during our thread, we can always plot something else out.
shipping.
un. the muse is canonically homosexual and presumably homoromantic, so there will be no f/m ships unless they're platonic. deux. given that bullet is fifteen ( and a victim of recent violent sexual assault, ) smut is unlikely.
following.
un. i'm very cautious with who i follow on this blog because i prefer to have a quiet dash. if you don't have any writing on your blog, i won't follow you back. deux.if you're writing with users who make me uncomfortable, i'll immediately and quietly unfollow, or refrain from following period. these users are blocked and blacklisted for a reason. i don't want them on my dash. trois. i won't follow purple prosers because i can't understand what's being written half the time.
verses.
un. multi - verse and crossover friendly. deux. current timeline takes place during her recovery after being beaten and left for dead in the trunk of a car. she sustained severe physical trauma, flatlining three times in the twenty-four hours that followed before slipping into comatose for nearly three months. details are still a work in progress.
❛ I GOT MORE BALLS THAN YOU!
name. rachel olmstead. aka. bullet. age. fifteen going on sixteen. gender. cis female, she/her pronouns. date of birth. october twenty-eighth. residence. seattle, wa.
appearance. slightly malnourished, weight fluctuating due to living on the streets for nearly three years. stands at five feet, three inches ( on a good day. ) sports jet black hair with a streak of dark blue in the front, often looking greasy and dirty, with the sides and back shaved close. wears men's clothing. always looks on the brink of catching a cold.
( previous ) living conditions. squalor. she hung around skid row during the day, and squatted wherever she could at night, mostly in abandoned buildings or at beacon when beds were available. maintained at least a semblance of personal hygiene, but her stained smile told a different tale. clothes rarely saw the inside of a washing machine.
current timeline. parents are currently fighting against child protective services, but because of their negligence and abandonment ( knowingly allowing their child to leave home and live on the streets ), have been stripped of legal custody. after being discharged from the hospital, detective stephen holder was granted temporary guardianship of bullet until she's well enough to be put in the foster - care system.
bullet has every intention of getting the hell out of dodge as soon as possible to avoid this happening. accustomed to the lifestyle of living on the streets, she would sooner die than let an adult have authority over her. despite her extensive injuries, she can still be found roaming skid row, attempting to regain the trust her affiliation with the police shattered.
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she’ll wait where she waits, which just so happens to be in his office, lounged back in the chair with both feet kicked up on the desk and crossed at the ankles. pellets of muck and dirt ( and whatever else she’s been treading through this morning ) fall from the worn soles of her boots. right on top of the legal papers, the certificates, this and that.
phone in hand, she lifts it up and hits record, putting deaux in front of the camera while she snickers behind it.
“ my name’s john deaux and i run a funeral home ‘cause it’s the only place i fit in, huuuuhhhh ! ”
she can’t. she can’t trust him and doesn’t know how to explain that it’s not faith in him she’s lacking.
she feels it the most –– that barren hole in her chest, the emptiness where the capacity to trust someone used to be –– on days like today, when someone who’s shown her nothing but kindness sits down with her and asks her to open up.
he isn’t one of seattle’s many predators; he’s the nicest man she’s ever known but she still sits a cushion away from him on that hideous green couch in his office because her skin is crawling, too tight to contain the flood of panicked tension wracking her body.
the first thing she asks herself : is this real? sometimes it feels like it is until she sees a man in a suit and striped tie with bullet holes in his chest and a knife in his hand, blood on his shirt, bright red, like it just spilled from her open throat. sometimes it feels like it is until she comes face to face with the man who thought a fifteen year old girl needed to be broke like the rest, like the little girls he sells.
the second thing : when will i stop being forced to relive the trauma? can’t even rest for fifteen minutes without taking a trip down memory fucking lane and waking up in a fright, clothes sticking from the cold sweat.
( it’s not supposed to hurt if you’re not afraid. )
“ yeah. … but stay outta my business, yo. ain’t the kinda story you wanna hear, anyways. ”
‘ hell yeah she is — but you gotta take care of her, you know, keep her fed, make sure she gets to stretch those legs. think you can handle that kinda responsibility ? ’ it’s teasing, almost, because he wouldn’t have offered to foster the dog to begin with if he didn’t know bullet was up to the task. he moves to lean again, forearm braced on top of the open door. can’t help but smile. ‘ she’s housebroken, got her shots, blah, blah. everything else is on you, li’l man. ’
caught somewhere between half - listening and giving the dog the undivided attention it deserves, bullet glances over her shoulder, peering at him from the rear passenger seat. it’s the first time in weeks that she had felt genuine happiness. the first time in months that it hadn’t been fleeting, unfamiliar. “ p’ft. kinda like i gotta keep my eye on you ? make sure you eat, get’cha exercise ? i’ll take care of her, yo. you got my word. where’d you get her from, anyway ? don’t look like no pound pup. ”
‘ ‘course he bailed, yo, he’s so tweaked he don’t know his ass from his elbows. ain’t no motherfucker in the jungle dumb enough to wear a wire, not even dougie. ’
poochie, like bullet, might be a lot of things — gullible isn’t one of them. you have to learn that, how to sift through gossip, separate truth from rumor. that’s why he’s looking at her with more wariness than skepticism, because she’s not the type to just spin stories for the hell of it. she’s always been straight with him.
‘ yeah — whatever, i promise. yo, c’mon, what’s the deal with this guy ? ’
“ you don’t know that. people like logic’ll do anything t’ keep the cashflow rollin’ in –– but i guess it don’t matter who’s wired ‘n who ain’t if the pigs are makin’ CIs outta dealers. never know who could be on the payroll. ”
trust is harder than ever to come by with bullet than it was before, which says a lot about a girl who snubbed the hell out of anyone who even looked suspicious. she chews the skin on the inside of her lip, then relights her cigarette.
“ … when i was at shady plots, deaux kept trying to get me to leave. said that his business is your business ‘n your business ain’t none of mine, all kinds of bullshit like that. whatever, yo, that ain’t what bothered me. his eyes ––– his eyes did this thing. i dunno how t’ explain it. they went red. i’m talkin’ twenty - eight days later, like them zombies ? freaked me the fuck out. ”
more than just a beatdown, as it turned out. major is one of those people who proves, over and over again, that having the absolute best of intentions can still turn out catastrophically wrong. ravi could recount everything he knows about the past year’s events in detail : could, but doesn’t, because it doesn’t bode well for this positive outlook he’s been trying to maintain.
something to be said for the fact that they’re still standing in spite of it all, though.
‘ major poots ? god, and here i thought it couldn’t get worse than lilywhite. clearly, i was mistaken. ’
he’s about to ask if that’s the same girl from 28 weeks later ( zombies, how ironic ) but her remark momentarily leaves him too scandalized to continue.
‘ nasty wet leaves in — … i’ll have you know, that’s a vital part of my noble heritage that you’ve just insulted. shame on you. i was going to offer you some hot chocolate, if you’re interested. ’
bullet can relate. it happens to everyone. more so those who put everyone else before themselves.
protecting the ones you love comes at a price that some people are more willing to pay than others. ( she doesn’t claim to always be selfless. didn’t think anyone could until she was properly introduced –– meaning, outside of the hospital –– to ravi and got to know him better. figures he keeps good company, so the mysterious major earns only a small token of her respect, just by association. )
“ major lilywhite ? holy shit. ” there’s the snort of laughter. she didn’t even try to hide it. “ i’d be pissed if my ‘rents gave me a stupid ass name like major to begin with, but pairin’ it up with lilywhite? nah. ”
begins toying with the necklace around her neck, sliding the silver bullet pendant back and forth across its chain to give her hands something to do. his expression has her alight with amusement and when she looks at him, it’s with a little shit - eating grin.
“ yeah, just wait ‘till you hear what i have to say about fish ‘n chips. hot chocolate’s fine. it’s cold as balls in here, yo –––– think my ass just froze to the seat. ”
“ please, come with me. ” “ you’re always number one. ” “ i can’t do this. ” “ i won’t let you. ” “ maybe i’m just crazy. ” “ i’m not even sorry. ” “ honestly, just stop it. ” “ i believe in you. ” “ don’t be an ass. ” “ who were you with? ” “ please talk to me. ” “ i can’t trust you. ” “ i need you, though. ” “ don’t be fucking rude. ” “ is that my shirt? ” “ so, it was you. ” “ i need to go. ” “ just stay with me. ” “ you can trust me. ” “ alright, i love you. ” “ i’m sorry, but no. ” “ will you help me? ” “ you’re a terrible cook. ” “ can you shut up!? ” “ you love me, right? ” “ i really need you. ” “ i don’t love you. ” “ i’m not doing this. ” “ i really need you. ” “ you don’t want me. ” “ let me help you. ” “ you’re such a bitch. ” “ i can’t do this. ” “ you think you’re funny? ” “ hey, i said stop! ” “ will you marry me? ” “ wanna go out sometime? ” “ i don’t want this. ” “ you always this quiet? ” “ are you fucking insane!? ” “ i don’t want you. ” “ i’m not wearing that. ” “ sorry, were you sleeping? ” “ this was never right. ” “ you look really tired. ” “ i’m out of here. ” “ you need to go. ”