Information
Shill
Legacy Name: Shill
The
Storm MontreOwner:
BeastAge: 9 years, 3 months
Born: January 24th, 2015
Adopted: 8 years, 7 months ago
Adopted: September 25th, 2015
Statistics
- Level: 3
- Strength: 10
- Defense: 10
- Speed: 10
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 0
- Books Read: 0
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Unemployed
Shill
noun
a : one who acts as a decoy (as for a pitchman or gambler)
b : one who makes a sales pitch or serves as a promoter
If I had held my breath for him any longer, it surely would have killed me...
Remy and I were thick as thieves, as they say. Living a life as we did keeps you close to your partner. He was a gambler and a thief, and I was merely a distraction for him in every way, on and off the job. I had convinced myself, however, that such was not the case at all, perhaps the opposite, even. In my foolish mind, I believed we were meant to be together. The way we functioned as a team was impeccable – how could you not wish to spend the rest of your life with someone when you knew them from the deepest level of their being? But of course, I knew how he was with women... some part of me ignored it, some part of me excused it, and some part of me, in a sick way, admired it, because despite it all, I was special. Or so I believed.
Darkness had settled around a small café in the plaza which we frequented. It was New Year's Eve, and time was running both swift and still, as it always seems to do, on the border of years. I had been on the stage before – singing over the large piano – with all the crowd's attention, as it is supposed to be. Remy had several perfect opportunities for his work, but as I looked towards him, I noticed the two of them together, smiling and fidgeting with the other's hands. I sighed under my breath - the game is on again... a lover or a friend? – I played the last note of the song, and with stinging eyes, rose to bow before the clapping crowd. I picked up my things and left.
On Valentine's Day, we were working together at the plaza again, but the cold and rainy weather didn't do much to bring in tourists. I had been pretending that I hadn't seen the way his forsworn fingers ran through her two-toned hair on New Year's Eve, and Remy was none the wiser. I'd done my best to convince myself that she was nothing to worry about anyway, for I was the one at his side today. We'd separated for a time and I sneaked into a pawn shop; I wanted to get him something for the occasion, but I stopped browsing when I saw him across the street, coming out of the flower shop. He had a bouquet of roses in his hand, and a small smile across his face – it was obvious his mind was elsewhere. I hurried to purchase the cuff links I had picked for him, then quickly followed him from afar, down the street and across an alley.
He knocked upon an unfamiliar door and my heart sank as I saw the opener. My throat grew cold and tight, my eyes burning, and my stomach knotted as I turned away. I bumped over a trashcan in my haste to leave. I heard I quiet exchange of awkward laughter before he called my name. It sounded the same as always, his accent drawing out each syllable, but it felt entirely different – cold and dry - it gave me no warmth this time. He took my hand in his and stopped my retreat.
"Katerina..." He repeated my name as he held my hand tightly, sounding both confused and dejected. I couldn't look at him, fearing my tears would fall if I moved my eyes. "I don't want to talk." I jerked my hand from his. In that moment I realized I had played my cards against Remy LeBeau. Could I be any more foolish? Finally, I breathed deeply and faced him. "Tell me..." I said, my eyes squinting, "does she kiss you like I used to kiss you?" He answered me only with empty eyes. I nodded and walked away. Finally I saw the winner takes it all, and the loser has to fall. It seemed plain to me now, I was no more than his Shill.
Credits:
Wrote by User not found: hare
Inspired by The Winner Takes It All
and On My Own
noun
a : one who acts as a decoy (as for a pitchman or gambler)
b : one who makes a sales pitch or serves as a promoter
If I had held my breath for him any longer, it surely would have killed me...
Remy and I were thick as thieves, as they say. Living a life as we did keeps you close to your partner. He was a gambler and a thief, and I was merely a distraction for him in every way, on and off the job. I had convinced myself, however, that such was not the case at all, perhaps the opposite, even. In my foolish mind, I believed we were meant to be together. The way we functioned as a team was impeccable – how could you not wish to spend the rest of your life with someone when you knew them from the deepest level of their being? But of course, I knew how he was with women... some part of me ignored it, some part of me excused it, and some part of me, in a sick way, admired it, because despite it all, I was special. Or so I believed.
Darkness had settled around a small café in the plaza which we frequented. It was New Year's Eve, and time was running both swift and still, as it always seems to do, on the border of years. I had been on the stage before – singing over the large piano – with all the crowd's attention, as it is supposed to be. Remy had several perfect opportunities for his work, but as I looked towards him, I noticed the two of them together, smiling and fidgeting with the other's hands. I sighed under my breath - the game is on again... a lover or a friend? – I played the last note of the song, and with stinging eyes, rose to bow before the clapping crowd. I picked up my things and left.
On Valentine's Day, we were working together at the plaza again, but the cold and rainy weather didn't do much to bring in tourists. I had been pretending that I hadn't seen the way his forsworn fingers ran through her two-toned hair on New Year's Eve, and Remy was none the wiser. I'd done my best to convince myself that she was nothing to worry about anyway, for I was the one at his side today. We'd separated for a time and I sneaked into a pawn shop; I wanted to get him something for the occasion, but I stopped browsing when I saw him across the street, coming out of the flower shop. He had a bouquet of roses in his hand, and a small smile across his face – it was obvious his mind was elsewhere. I hurried to purchase the cuff links I had picked for him, then quickly followed him from afar, down the street and across an alley.
He knocked upon an unfamiliar door and my heart sank as I saw the opener. My throat grew cold and tight, my eyes burning, and my stomach knotted as I turned away. I bumped over a trashcan in my haste to leave. I heard I quiet exchange of awkward laughter before he called my name. It sounded the same as always, his accent drawing out each syllable, but it felt entirely different – cold and dry - it gave me no warmth this time. He took my hand in his and stopped my retreat.
"Katerina..." He repeated my name as he held my hand tightly, sounding both confused and dejected. I couldn't look at him, fearing my tears would fall if I moved my eyes. "I don't want to talk." I jerked my hand from his. In that moment I realized I had played my cards against Remy LeBeau. Could I be any more foolish? Finally, I breathed deeply and faced him. "Tell me..." I said, my eyes squinting, "does she kiss you like I used to kiss you?" He answered me only with empty eyes. I nodded and walked away. Finally I saw the winner takes it all, and the loser has to fall. It seemed plain to me now, I was no more than his Shill.
Credits:
Wrote by User not found: hare
Inspired by The Winner Takes It All
and On My Own