try to close someone’s eyes like a corpse when you’re bored of talking to them

Once the desktop loaded, Charlotta felt the color drain from her face. “…What?” The teen felt her stomach turn as she saw all of the research as the information burned into her mind.

He lied to her. 

Jeff had lied to Char her entire life, about everything. A list of his prior marks were displayed on the screen, along with his current target. She began rummaging through his laptop, her eyes darting across the screen frantically as the truth about the man who meant the world to her came into the light. “He lied to me…” She whispered quietly as tears began to blur her vision.

Him being a hitman wasn’t what upset her. For Christ sake, her other Godfather was the son of Satan and she lived with The Rake. The thing that emotionally wrecked her was that he’d lied to her about it. For as long as she could remember, Jeff had be the one person, the only person who was open with her. He was the person she confided in, the only one Char felt she could be herself around. But that clearly didn’t go both ways.

Once she was done looking through all the information, char returned everything to the way she’d found it and stepped away from his side of the room. The heavy ball she’d kept floating in the air dropped to the ground, and Char screamed in frustration.

You trusted him, and he lied to you. She raked a hand through her hair and began to hyperventilate. Her pupils began to dilate and contract rapidly, and the color of her iris’ began to change from ice blue to a swirling garnet color .  H̶̗̖̫̞̘̕͜E̹͖̬̤͔ͅͅ ̗̯͚͕̥L̳I͍̠E̦̦D҉̢̩͍̺̫̻ͅ ̷͖͓̺͎̟̦͕͉̟T̛̰͜O̴̺̺̥͚̞͔̙̼͜ ̛̩̬̙Y͉͙ͅO̷̘̣͇̻͙̬̕͝U͇̠̟̥͉̜͙͍̰.̴̯̲̣̺̹͎͈̜́  

Char squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears. “Enough!” She yelled. All the objects around her were pushed back about 6 inches by an unseen force, and Char collapsed in a heap on the ground. “I can’t believe this…” She whimpered softly as hot tears burned her cheeks.

Jeff had managed to catch a glimpse of the target several times and even figure out his work schedule—of course, he’d have to return to be sure that they remained the same with each day.  However, for now, what he managed to catch was that this Mr. Baker had the average nine-to-five work schedule, and was an active smoker, taking a break every two hours on the hour, although he coughed and choked on each cigarette he lit.  

Around ten minutes after Frederick left, so did Jeff, letting him depart before taking his own leave, so not to let himself be seen.  

Once he was…off the clock, so to speak, Jeff stopped at a nearby grocery store, purchasing breakfast items for Charlotta, knowing that leftover pizza and wings would not suffice for more than today.  Even if they would, with Char used to Anise’s cooking, Jeff felt obliged to give her better.

And so, with two shopping bags full of muffins, bagels, and other non-perishable breakfast items, Jeff headed back to the motel, parking the van in the darkened lot and making his way to the room, pulling the key from his pocket to unlock the door.

Glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand, he noted the time:  6:26.    He kicked the door shut behind him, his hands too full to use the knob.  After setting the items on the table, however, he made sure to lock it back, giving Charlotta a nod.  “Hey, how was your day?”

"Hey." She replied from under the blankets. She'd taken the blanket and sheet from her bed and made a sort of cocoon around herself, leaving only her head exposed. "It was okay. How was yours?" She murmured as she curled around herself further. 

Char felt totally numb. She wasn't angry, or upset. The adolescent girl found herself completely devoid of emotion. And she didn't even know how to address what she'd found. "Meet anybody interesting whilst you were out?"

i can never be anon ever again.

Char woke up at roughly 8 in the morning, still groggy after staying up much later than she was used to. The drowsy teen hardly remembered Jeff leaving the hotel several hours prior, but she remembered enough of their conversation from the night before to know three things.

One, Jeff was going to be gone for the majority of the day. Two, they were in an exceptionally rough neighborhood and Jeff didn’t want her leaving the room or sleeping whilst he was gone. And three, she was completely alone and as such could do whatever she damn well pleased.

The prospect of being alone for hours on end made the girl grin. She wasted no time in throwing off the blankets and darting straight for her bag.

"How so?" Miss Barnes asked, her tone changing slightly, and not for the better.

"That’s not important."  He crossed his arms, carrying on, "What is important is that it’s a bit of a setback, and I’m having to work around it."

"Mr. Woods, what are you getting at?" Barnes’ patience was running thin, and Jeff was soon going to need to be wrapping this up.

He sighed into the phone, muttering his next words.  ”What I’m gettin’ at is, if you’re wantin’ me to do this, it’s gonna have to be done on my time now.”

Char reached into her bag and produced a ball from the deepest pocket. It wasn’t any larger than a tennis ball, but small black sphere was much heavier than that. Char tossed it into the air and froze it in place, keeping it suspended as she began to look for something to do. 

This trick was something Andy had taught her when he’d first started giving her lessons. Keeping the ball suspended while trying to do another task was an excellent way oh honing and strengthening her telekinesis. “Hmmm… What can I do..?” The adolescent girl looked around the empty motel room for some menial task to do until her eyes fell on…

Jeff’s laptop.

A mischievous smile curled on the girl’s lips as she quickly crossed the room. She jumped onto her godfather’s bed and opened the laptop, only to be met with a lock screen. “Shit!” She cursed quietly and bit her lip. What if he left a password..? Char clicked on the password hint button and almost burst into laughter. ”Jenny, don’t change your number! Unbelieveable!!”

She quickly typed ‘867-5309’ into the password bar and laughed to herself as the welcome screen popped up. 

As soon as Anne raised her voice into the phone, Jeff checked out of the conversation, rolling his eyes and waiting for her end to fall silent before hanging up.  

He’d get this done, and he’d get it done right.

But with her bitching at him every step of the way, that wasn’t going to happen.

So, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and pulled the picture of this Baker guy out from it, looking it over.  Once he’d burned his appearance into his mind, he started up the street again, going toward the man’s apparent workplace to see if he could catch a glimpse of him.

Once the desktop loaded, Charlotta felt the color drain from her face. "...What?" The teen felt her stomach turn as she saw all of the research as the information burned into her mind.

He lied to her. 

Jeff had lied to Char her entire life, about everything. A list of his prior marks were displayed on the screen, along with his current target. She began rummaging through his laptop, her eyes darting across the screen frantically as the truth about the man who meant the world to her came into the light. "He lied to me..." She whispered quietly as tears began to blur her vision.

Him being a hitman wasn't what upset her. For Christ sake, her other Godfather was the son of Satan and she lived with The Rake. The thing that emotionally wrecked her was that he'd lied to her about it. For as long as she could remember, Jeff had be the one person, the only person who was open with her. He was the person she confided in, the only one Char felt she could be herself around. But that clearly didn't go both ways.

Once she was done looking through all the information, char returned everything to the way she'd found it and stepped away from his side of the room. The heavy ball she'd kept floating in the air dropped to the ground, and Char screamed in frustration.

You trusted him, and he lied to you. She raked a hand through her hair and began to hyperventilate. Her pupils began to dilate and contract rapidly, and the color of her iris' began to change from ice blue to a swirling garnet color .  H̶̗̖̫̞̘̕͜E̹͖̬̤͔ͅͅ ̗̯͚͕̥L̳I͍̠E̦̦D҉̢̩͍̺̫̻ͅ ̷͖͓̺͎̟̦͕͉̟T̛̰͜O̴̺̺̥͚̞͔̙̼͜ ̛̩̬̙Y͉͙ͅO̷̘̣͇̻͙̬̕͝U͇̠̟̥͉̜͙͍̰.̴̯̲̣̺̹͎͈̜́  

Char squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears. "Enough!" She yelled. All the objects around her were pushed back about 6 inches by an unseen force, and Char collapsed in a heap on the ground. "I can't believe this..." She whimpered softly as hot tears burned her cheeks.

"I uh…" Charlotta was genuinely taken aback by the overwhelming kindness of these complete strangers. "I’m allergic to nuts, and.. uh, cinnamon." She murmured nervously. 

Even though the teen knew she was safe, years of being back-stabbed had made her wary of strangers. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was hunger or fear that made her shake as badly as she did. 

"I-I…" She swallowed and looked to the floor nervously. "I’m not really picky. I’ll eat just about anything!" She blurted out almost too quickly. Char covered her mouth and hung her head lower as her heartbeat began thrumming loudly in her ears. 

“Alright.  No nuts, no cinnamon.  Pretty sure we can swing that," Jeff muttered, almost amused by the teenager’s obvious surprise… and nerves.  Not strange, he guessed.  Hopefully the Zalgist atmosphere was infectious enough to calm her down before too long.

“I’ll get somethin’ put in for ya, kid.  Prolly… a lot of something, if you’re really that starving, but we’ll start slow.  Don’t wanna make you sick.  Go ‘head, grab a seat.  You drink?" he asked, simultaneously gesturing toward the empty tables again while getting somebody else’s attention with a wave.

“Yo.  Lucky.  Yeah, we got any, uh…  We got any soup?”

"Thank you." Char bowed her head respectfully and took a seat at the bar. "Neat brandy please. On the rocks." She replied quietly as she pulled down her hood. "Thank you for asking."

Char crossed her arms and rested her head on the bar surface. It's so nice here... She thought to herself. It was warm, smelled nice, and above everything else it felt...

Safe.

Sure, she was still wary of the people around her, but as she slowly began to let her guard down, she felt the entirety of the strain put on her tiny body. A combination of only eating about once a week and hardly sleeping left her feeling weaker than she'd originally felt, and the soft scent of food cooking mixed with alcohol was lulling her to sleep. 

What if the “others” Tim is referring to are the viewers?

Fire drill by Crusoe Celebrity Dachshund

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