4

TEXT CHAT

PAST

Conor: Can I ask you a question?

Star: Depends.

Conor: On?

Star: Whether I want to answer it.

Conor: Helpful.

Star: You know I endeavor to be helpful at all times, Conor.

Conor: Guess what I just saw!

Star: What?

Conor: A pig flying over the Empire State Building.

Star: Are you saying I’m a liar? ? ( ? *ˊ?ˋ) ? *??ˋ

Conor: I’m saying you’re liberal with the truth. And you’re no angel if that’s what that emoji is supposed to be.

Star: I’m a star. I exist in the heavens.

Conor: Oh, look. Hell just froze over too.

Star: You’d know seeing as you live in Hell’s Kitchen. What’s it like being next door to the devil?

Conor: Surprisingly humid.

Star: Figured it would be hot.

Conor: More sticky.

Star: :P Hit me with the question.

Conor: What happened in Afghanistan?

Star: There was a war.

Conor: Sigh. I mean with you.

Star: Ah, you mean how did I end up being a sex slave?

Conor: Yes. Precisely.

Star: Director of the CIA is a Sparrow. I started sniffing around where he didn’t want me sniffing, and I got my ass landed in Sex Slave Central. Trust me, it’s not the kind of marketplace you want to visit.

Star: Unless you’re into that, of course.

Star: Are you?

Conor: Double sigh.

Star: Why are you asking?

Conor: You have a lot of long-term plans.

Star: I do! It’s my favorite thing to do.

Conor: Do you bullet journal?

Star: Do I seem like the kind of woman who’d bullet journal?

Conor: Hey, I don’t judge. Maybe you have a kill list and it’s decorated with hearts…

Star: I’m not a ‘hearts and flowers’ kinda gal.

Conor: Skulls and crossbones then?

Star: Lol. You got me.

Conor: What? Do you bullet journal?

Star: Uh huh. I use bullets to decorate my journal.

Conor: You’re no fun.

Star: I’m plenty of fun.

Conor: So, do you have a kill list?

Star: Naturally.

Conor: Is the director of the CIA on there?

Star: Yes. That’s a very obvious question.

Conor: Nothing’s obvious with you. Why isn’t he dead yet?

Star: Because Reinier isn’t a priority.

Star: The New World Sparrows need to die. Then, I need to kill my mom’s murderer. THEN, I have to reunite every woman, man, and child who was treated like a piece of meat by those fucking bastards with their family. THEN, the director of the CIA can die.

Star: Ordinarily, Reinier would be at the top of my shit list but, as you can see, I have quite a lot on my plate.

Conor: How do you want to kill him?

Star: Stick a poker up his ass.

Conor: Very angelic of you.

Star: I try. *curtseys*

Conor: Do you even know how to curtsey lol?

Star: There’s plenty I know how to do. I’ve met several royal families, I’ll have you know. Sheiks are crazy. They pay millions to have rock stars play at their kids’ weddings.

Conor: They do? I know Rihanna did that once.

Star: Sure, very nice income stream.

Conor: I’ll bet.

Star: Got my inspiration from you re the ass poker thing, btw.

Conor: Figured as much lol.

Star: Thought I’d start with the poker, then I’d slice off his dick. Maybe make him eat it. Or maybe break his back or something.

Conor: Why break his back?

Star: Duh, so he can suck off the stump.

Conor: Wow. I just crossed my legs.

Star: He won’t be able to by the time I’m through with him.

Conor: LOL.

Conor: Star? You know that if I can help with your to-do list, I will, right?

Star: It’s MY to-do list for a reason.

Conor: You can’t do everything on your own.

Star: Says you. You’re a one-man band too.

Conor: Only because my brothers have zero aptitude for what I do. Even Eoghan, who deals with most of our security, doesn’t know dick about coding alarm systems.

Star: Is this pro bono assistance or quid pro quo?

Conor: It’s pro bono, I guess.

Star: Why guess?

Conor: Because this isn’t a favor. This is me wanting to help you bring down those who hurt you.

Star: Huh.

Star: Conor?

Conor: Yes?

Star: Do you know I’d stick a poker up that priest’s ass if I could? Slice him up real good too?

Conor: **sniffles** That might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.

Star: I’m better than Hallmark at writing this shit, aren’t I?

Conor: You definitely should be working on greeting cards. And homicidal bullet journals.

Conor: Maybe when the to-do list is done, you can branch out? Even serial killers need hobbies.

Star: Maybe.

Star: Conor?

Conor: Yes, Star.

Star: Do you think I’ll complete it?

Conor: I have every faith in you.

Star: You do?

Conor: Yes. And I won’t rest until it’s complete either…

Star: I’m not sure what to say.

Conor: How about, ‘Welcome aboard the killing train, Conor.’?

Star: :D Welcome aboard.