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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‘ well maybe if you ate a little more greens ‘n a little less processed cholesterol with a side of diabetes, you’d be on my level. ’
❛ man, whatever ! i was in a freakin’ coma for weeks ‘n bein’ fed through one of them tubes ‘n you still gonna harp on me about my diet ? that ain’t even right, yo. ❜
‘ do what you gotta do, bullet. ’ cigarette flicked away as he starts down the street. if he’s surprised at the way she’s still dogging at his heels, he doesn’t show it. what she does on her own time is out of his hands, but that’s hard to reconcile with the part of him that feels responsible. ‘ yup. caught a case and the new LT’s been ridin’ my ass about all that pied piper paperwork. like linden says — clock never stops. ’
feels like she should say something, but can’t find the right words. maybe there aren’t any right words. maybe there’s just white noise, transmitted into a half - assed explanation that doesn’t even make sense. ❛ what’s the case ? you got any juicy details ? ❜ she shouldn’t be asking, but she does it anyway, prying for information with her fingers crossed that he’ll forget about the money.
‘ just ‘cause you said it don’t make it true. ’ he has forty on him, twenties and tens. he knows she’ll need more before the week is out — especially if she isn’t taking hand - outs from dad anymore. fully expecting to regret it, he gives her a twenty. ‘ go get shit - drunk or whatever the hell it is you’re spendin’ this on. i got places to be. ’
he’s right. and she’s willing to bet he knows that, more than he’s letting on. hesitates before snatching the bill out of his hand and shoving it in her pocket, head down. she can’t look him in the eye when she’s milking his paycheck for booze and drugs. makes her feel like shit. ❛ it ain’t like that. ❜ but it is. ❛ … you goin’ t’ work ? ❜
‘ what, you actually tried callin’ ‘em ? and he didn’t pick up ? ’ it could be the truth. or, just as easily, it could be a load of bullshit. wouldn’t be the first time she pulled some kind of quick and dirty manipulation tactic on him. ( but if she wants to get loaded, she’ll find a way — with or without his help. ) ‘ if i find out you’re makin’ this up, i will beat your skinny ass, you feel me ? ’
❛ that’s what i said, ain’t it? ❜ and it wouldn’t be far from the truth, if she had actually picked up the phone and dialed. ( or maybe it would have been a stretch. she wouldn’t know because she hasn’t bothered to give anyone a call, least of all her overbearing parents. ) ❛ give it to me or don’t, yo. i ain’t got time to pinky swear. ❜
go figure — she smells like a fucking dive bar. flame sparks as he lights up a cigarette. ‘ you lyin’ to me right now ? if you’re hungry, i’ll pick somethin’ up. i ain’t’cha damn ATM machine. ’
she keeps a level head. surprising, taking into account the fact that he’s the only source of income she has at the moment. on second thought, though, hustling some unsuspecting sap might have taken less time. ❛ dad ain’t been answerin’ my calls. he used t’ send me money whenever i needed it, but i guess he’s all bent outta shape about this… custody bullshit. whatever. forget it. ❜
‘ what happened to those five bills i gave you friday night ? what, you blow through all that on double cheeseburgers ? don’t play me, bullet. ’ @junkyardteen.
booze happened. a little bit of pot. poochie isn’t handing out freebies anymore. treats her like clientele. ❛ the hell is this, an interrogation ? girl’s gotta eat, yo ! just le’me get fifteen ‘n i’ll be outta your hair. ❜ and back again in forty - eight hours. ❛ ––––c’mon, man. ❜
‘ naw, for real ! yo, check my medical records ! ain’t even caught the sniffles since ronald reagan was sittin’ in the oval office. you don’t gotta be jealous. it ain’t a good color on you. ’
❛ you’re so full of shit. nobody’s immune system is that good in this cold ‘n rainy hellscape of a city. ❜
‘ i don’t catch colds. matter of fact, i don’t get sick. immune system’s like alcatraz — ain’t nothin’ gets past these walls. my body’s my temple. ’
❛ you hear that ? sounds like a crock of bullshit. bet yo’ no alka seltzer - havin’ ass won’t be sayin’ that shit when you’re laid up in bed soundin’ like a clogged drain. ❜
‘ yo, whatever. least i didn’t drown my hamster. you got any more confessions i should know about ? birds keelin’ over, guinea pigs who up ‘n disappeared — ? ’ he’s still messing with her. actually started to consider getting her a dog, for good measure ; nothing like a set of teeth and claws to deter assholes from making a move. ‘ i mean, if you need a lawyer ––––––– ’
❛ me neither, asswipe ! hamsters ain’t supposed t’ get wet. they got these oils in their fur that keep ‘em happy ‘n healthy. they’re small ‘n catch colds real easy, too, which is what happened t’ meatball ‘n what’s gonna happen t’ you if you don’t shut’cha face ! let meatball rest in peace. ❜
‘ listen ‘n learn, grasshopper. ’ an expert on ribbing, evidently. everything with potential value is open for debate. ‘ so what happened, you leave him in there too long ? he catch a cold ? don’t beat yourself up — i had like fifteen fish die on my watch when i was a wee one. ’
❛ ––––– eat me. ❜ five years later and bullet still jumps to the defense over meatball. she does feel bad about it, though. (always has.) that frosty exterior isn’t fooling anyone. ❛ … that on record ? ‘cause i’m pretty sure cps might have somethin’ t’ say about it. stupid motherfucker can’t even keep a fish alive ‘n we’re trusting him with a kid ? that’s what they’ll say, yo. bet ! ❜