Violent Delights

[Joza Perl]

“Uh…sure.”

Her momentary hesitation did not come from a place of anxiety, but rather she’d realized how awkward it might be to drag the corpse over to the barrel and situate it inside. Haytham was not a small man, and even with the two of them she imagined it could be a bit awkward.

Still, she grabbed his ankles, cushioned by the layers of sheets and plastic and helped Elliot maneuver the body into the barrel. It was definitely a weird situation all things considered, what made it even more weird was how clinical and professional Elliot was during the entire thing. Not once did he ask who the victim was or why she’d done it, never even gave a hint of outward curiosity.

Maybe thinking about it a little deeper, it started to make sense. She’d never seen Elliot truly bothered by anything. Not that he showed, anyhow, whereas Joza was naturally a more expressive creature.

Once the barrel was secure and the chemicals gathered, Joza helped him move their cargo into the lift where they’d move down towards the basement level. Permacrete surrounded was appeared to be a few makeshift living areas with beds and a kitchenette, a place where Outer Rim Coalition and Underground members could crash if they needed a safe place to stay on Zeltros. Other than that, there were several sectioned off areas for waste management.

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Joza Perl"]

If this had been one of his operations he probably would have slammed his weight into the corpse once it was situated inside.

Just so most of the weight and mass of the corpse was situated around the same level. This would make it easier for the acid to do its work, faster and more efficient, but somehow breaking Haytham's spine and neck seemed... not the way to go around here. Though, Joza was surprising him with her level of focus and lack of freak-outs, the hand brushing past his hair had been weird?

But it could have been worse.

At the very least Locke didn't encounter her sobbing over the corpse.

That would have been worse by a wide margin.

There was a silence between the two of them and the barrel between them as the lift passed past all the levels, before finally settling itself in the basement level. His attention wasn't really on the surroundings - though he did note that it seemed to be a place where people stayed for one reason or another. Seemed that this club wasn't just a club... which wasn't surprising to Elliot at all.

"Alright, let's put it there." He gestured towards a moderately open space, before they moved it together. "Thanks, would have been more difficult without you."

Just a small acknowledgement, but they had a long road to travel yet.

"I am gonna prepare the chemicals, while I do that, go and fix the blood in the VIP room."

 

[Joza Perl]

Would have been impossible without you.

She didn’t say it though. It didn’t seem right. Nothing seemed right, so she only nodded in acknowledgement. Joza probably would have managed to hold herself together well enough to dispose of the body if she hadn’t had Elliot around, albeit in a less professional and messier way. It wasn’t something she wanted to think about right now, but it would be something that would haunt her later.

Another nod sufficed in response as she turned to leave, pausing for a moment to let her gaze rest on the barrel.

-

She’d already used a scouring pad to disperse what she could of the dried blood from the carpet, and know she was scrubbing away at what remained of the stain. A mixture of ammonia and water was not hard to conjure up given the common nature of the cleaning product, but it took quite a bit of elbow grease to get the blood to start to fade. There wasn’t much of it thankfully, just a few splatters from their scuffle and smaller pools where his head had been.

Joza paused in her scrubbing, leaning the palm of her gloved hand into the floor as an unsettling thought drifted into her mind.

He hadn’t fought back at all.

A wave of anger rolled against her chest, teeth gritting together as she went at the stains with more aggression. The chair he’d been in had a smear of crimson on it, and had since been located to the smaller storage room in the back with the other decommissioned pieces of furniture. A sheet was thrown over it for good measure.

With the blood taken care of and the room smelling of bleach, Joza situated herself at the bar and would already be several shots deep by the time [member="Elliot Locke"] arrived.

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Joza Perl"]

The barrel was already boiling by the time Locke wandered into the room.

It would dissolve the body on its own time and there was little reason for him to be there while it was happening. Other than macabre curiosity, of course, and that wasn't a thing for him for quite some time already. The first time around... he was interested to see how the body dissolved, from flesh to bones to just pink liquid.

His body slumped down in a seat next to her.

Just a grunt to pass the bottle which he took up, filling a three shots. One after another they got pushed over, burning past his throat and making him hrrrrrrm just so.

"Good stuff." Locke mumbled, before pushing it back over to her again, giving her another taste.

 

[Joza Perl]

“Sullustan Gin.” She had to look at the label to figure that out, having chosen the bottle at random. She always liked to keep plenty of Gin stocked anyhow, as it was her liquor of choice.

She poured herself another shot, downing it just as quick. One could venture to guess that had she not had company, Joza would have foregone the shot glass completely.

The alcohol helped to steady her somewhat, and thanks to her second liver and tolerance she wasn’t a blubbering mess or vomiting in the bathroom yet.

She didn’t let go of the bottle yet, staring hard into space. Another shot later, she’d shifted the bottle back towards him, fingers still lingering around the shot glass.

“He was Alan’s father.” Soft, honest words. There was something else there, something unreadable.

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Joza Perl"]

Locke took another shot.

Right on time too when Joza shared the identity of the dead body boiling. Made him grunt again - difficult to figure out what kind of grunt it, at least until he took down another shot. It was the grunt of: give me a moment, I need another shot, before I process that. It was difficult to balance the line between caring too much and not caring enough, Elly had never learned it himself. He cared. Too much. Always, at every opportunity and that was what slowly destroyed him over time. The more lives he took, the more people he murdered for the good cause.

The more his hands started to stink of blood and soil.

"Why kill him?" Anyone else it might have sounded as an accusation, but Locke's tone was frank and matter of fact. In truth he hadn't been planning on asking her anything about it.

Would have been fine with him to bury this with the corpse and let it go.

But Joza seemed intent on telling and he was intent on listening, which surprised him. Anyone else... might have simply taken down the drink, left instructions on how to handle the barrel and then take his leave.

Didn't seem right with this one though.

 

[Joza Perl]

It was the question she’d expected, but still couldn’t come up with a satisfying answer for.

“I didn’t mean to.” Joza stared down into the shot glass at her distorted pinpoint of a reflection. “I didn’t intend to when he first approached me here.” She felt the need to clarify that because at some point she’d certainly chosen to wrap her hands around his throat and squeeze the breath from him.

“We had a thing going on for a while,” Another shot, and she gasped in vague satisfaction as the burn trickled down her throat. “He was abusive. Manipulative. Controlling. I disappeared and cut all contact with him when I found out that I was pregnant.” She twirled the glass idly, fixated on the way it caught the lowlights of the room. Thankfully, the mood lighting was soft and non-abrasive. “Today he tried to apologize for it all.” It went unsaid that Joza did not accept his apology.

“He knew about Alan. I found this on him.” Reaching into her skirt pocket, she retrieved the small photo of herself with her toddler son and placed it on the bar. “He said I looked happy in it. That he…was happy for me.” Her voice wavered before she grunted, elbows on the counter as she ran the fingers of both hands through her hair, pushing it out of her face before her head slowly tilted up to lock eyes with Elliot.

“I couldn’t let him live.” She mumbled. “I didn’t want him involved with the baby. Even though he’s the father, I would never subject my child to what he’s put me through. Maybe he really was a changed man, but I can’t afford to believe that anymore.”

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Joza Perl"]

The soft buzz of alcohol took the edge off of things.

At the end of the day it was a difficult position to be in and Locke knew it quite well. Kill someone and you start wondering if you made the right decision, if you had the right to judge them unworthy of life itself, if you were worthy of making that decision in the first place with all the blood on your hands. But it was in these little moments that doubt was the last thing that should infest your system, it could break you in a million pieces, if you weren't careful about it. The dad, huh? That was still something he hadn't been expecting.

But now it was there.

His two finger tips brushed the faded picture, past the face of the young, happy baby to the equally happy mother. It stuck around for a moment, before Locke looked up and met her eyes.

"Sounds to me you put a fether down that hurt you and could have hurt the kid." A shrug of the shoulders, before he returned to his shot glass and found it very empty.

This was remedied immediately and then the status quo returned.

"Sounds to me you did what you had to do."

His thumb circled around the edge of his shot glass. Brushed the glass, brushed the burning liquid still clinging a little bit on the edge and wondering what more there was to say in this moment. Was there really any words that could help her that time itself wouldn't do already?

 

[Joza Perl]

It was the anger that caused her to crack to wrap her hands around his throat, but it was the need to protect her son that kept them there.

At some point after he’d spoken, her head was resting on folded arms against the counter. Her shoulders didn’t shake, nor did she cry—but her eyes were wide, exhausted and had a certain haunt to them when she finally pulled her head up. “I know,” She rasped softly in agreement. “I don’t regret doing it.” She regretted a lot of things, but not the actual act. Joza had spent so much of her time around Haytham being walked on, but that wasn’t what drove her to take his life.

What trumped the guilt and indecision was the firm choice to protect Alan. Did she even have a choice? It was fierce maternal instinct, something primal that would be difficult to ignore. But Joza didn’t want to ignore it. Maybe Alan wouldn’t have a father, but maybe that was for the best—he’d have a mother who’d do anything to provide for him and keep him safe.

“I never had the courage to stand up to him through the years.” She reached for the bottle again, a slight shake in her hand—emotions or the drink?—as she poured another shot and downed it quickly. “But Alan changed things. Suddenly, it was all about him and not me. I had to try and be a better person for him.” A pause as she bit her lip, eyes lingering over to the space where Haytham’s body had been.

“I’d do it again and again if I had to.” It slipped through her lips as a whisper. “I’d do whatever it took to keep him safe. It probably,” A hiccup. “Probably doesn’t make me a good person to kill someone like that. Probably just as low as Haytham.” Another shot, this one thrown back with a little more gusto. “An’ that’s fine. I’d be damned if my son grows up watching his mother get beaten, though.”

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Joza Perl"]

While she talked his mind went to all the people he had killed over the years.

Were all of them wife-beaters? Child abusers? No, most definitely not. A fair few of them were probably genuinely good people, who simply were in the way of the natural order of things. When you were in the kind of job that Elliot was, there was little in the way of questions. Sometimes... Elly did ask, though, on his own and after the job was already completed. He'd reach out, gather some information and figure out just what kind of person the sentient was that he had killed. Sometimes... he realized they were good people at the end of the day.

Men and women who invested much money in humanitarian pursuits or other ways to assist the common sentient.

Didn't matter though, not when they were inadvertently assisting the bad ones. When part of their organizations were used as funnel companies for dirty money or their actions supported the First Order through good PR.

Locke killed them, drank the alcohol and moved on.

Because in the greater part of the Galaxy there wasn't such a thing as good and bad, there was only the gray and the greyer. There was only figuring out if the greater good was worth the lesser evil.

"Wanna go back to my ship?" Two moments later he realized it sounded like he wanted to kark her. Which wasn't about that. "No karking, just lie down somewhere were we don't need to watch our backs."

Wasn't much else to do anyway.

 

[Joza Perl]

Did she want to go back to his ship?

Even without the addendum, it sounded alright. All Joza really wanted was to not be alone, but part of her was hesitant to let herself be around Elliot lest she burst like a dam. He didn’t deserve that, didn’t need to have an emotional mess in his bed.

But she took him up on his offer anyway. Alan was being babysat while she was away on business, and to be honest right now Joza didn’t trust herself to be around the child. Not right away.

“Okay.” She answered softly. To be fair, the Zeltron didn’t mind if they ended up entangled in the sheets. Would be good to get her mind focused on something else, but that could be done just by lying next to someone, eyes closed as you focused on the steady rhythm of their heartbeat. One last shot for the road before she slid from her stool.

“Thank you, Elliot.” Voice was still soft, but there was a layer of sincerity to it. “You’ve helped me a lot today.”

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Joza Perl"]

He poured down one last glass for himself.

Already at the back of his throat Locke could sense the burn coming up. They drank a lot this night, but that was par for course after crap like this. In truth he had controlled himself way more than he usually would have. Usually, he simply would have drank from the bottle, until he collapsed and then slept it off.

But that wasn't a thing here.

Not now. Not when Joza needed him to be strong about it, because she drew strength from him - no matter how much of a tough exterior she was giving him...

You don't just kill your baby daddy and be okay.

Didn't matter how much of a fether he had been in the past. That was the crappy thing about emotions, they weren't ever really rational at the end of it.

"Don't mention it." Really, don't. "You okay to walk?"

Locke pushed himself off the seat, steadying himself on the table for a moment, before reasserting control over his legs.

It was fine now, but fast movements were fast.

 

[Joza Perl]

Wobbling on her heels, Joza steadied herself by her hands against the counter. The high volume of liquor in such a short amount of time hit her system quickly, though not enough to have her head reeling and her body on the floor.

The stilettos would be tricky to manage in this state, but she’d had worse. Hopefully they’d be in bed by the time it all hit her like a freight train.

“Yeah.” She paused, stepping out from behind the counter carefully. Years of partying gave her the ability to walk in heels while intoxicated without breaking her own ankles. Running in them was a useful skill too. “Just,” Another pause, and she placed a hand on his shoulder for balance. Probably not the best idea since he’d had a lot to drink as well, but he wasn’t in heels.

“Lead the way.”

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Joza Perl"]

The buzz of alcohol was all-encompassing and it felt good.

Made his focus shift and pull back a little bit. He was intimately aware of his skin, the air and even the scent of Joza, but other than the most prudent and focused efforts, everything else was scoped down. Tuned to such a degree that it didn't register for the moment. Someone could probably punch him in the face right now and he wouldn't even feel it.

Well, that probably wasn't true, but it did designate Locke's state rather well.

Her hand was placed on his shoulder and for a moment everything was alright. Then she started falling... or maybe he was falling? Either way the room spun and suddenly Locke found himself on the ground, there was a dull pain somewhere at the edge of his awareness.

But that was pushed aside once he noticed Jozie on top of him.

"Well, hello." Locke mumbled softly, hand already brushing her back. "Fancy seeing you here."

 

[Joza Perl]

Someone fell, then the other fell, and the important conclusion was that they were on the floor.

Her ribs ached from the impact, luckily softened by Locke’s body and she groaned softly before shakily pushing herself up. Her vision refocused on [member="Elliot Locke"], and it took her a moment to feel the familiar outline of his body beneath her, then the hand at her back.

She pause.

“Oh, hey.” She said in her best ‘I’m-drunk-and-trying-to-be-smooth’ voice. Blinking for a moment to steady herself, she lowered herself so that her elbows her touching the ground. One hand came up to brush the hair from his face. “Yeah, I own this floor. We can do whatever we want with it.”

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Joza Perl"]

It was instinctual to a degree.

His hand brushing downwards and pressing against her tight. If it hadn't been for the drinks blunting all his edges he probably would have been firmly against it, after the crap they had been through today. But the drinks had flowed, truths exchanged and the burn was in his system by now. Locke blinked lazily, the focus of his attention squarely on her lips as she talked.

Pretty lips.

Jozie brushed away some of his hair, her hand touched his skin and he closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the touch. It strange how that little buzz enhanced the kark out of certain things, while dulling others.

"How about on top of it?" Locke finally mumbled, before a free hand curled around equally free fabric and pressure was applied to roundness.

 

[Joza Perl]

A slow, albeit sloppy grin shifted onto her face, squirming slightly in his grasp. If she hadn’t been as unfocused, perhaps she would have frowned and swatted his hand away. But the distractions flowed as freely as the drink in her veins, and Joza wasn’t one to pass up a good distraction in the wake of such a shocking situation for her.

“’S long as we don’t stain it permanently.” Then again, she had a knack for getting stains out of things. Necessity.

Hips pressed down against his as she closed the gap between them without much hesitation, pretty lips pressed against his own with the proper amount of drunken candor.

[member="Elliot Locke"]