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In lieu with a recent post made by Cora's favorite counterpart, lawyerlarry, Cora is now going into retirement.

While I immensely enjoyed playing Cora over the time that I have, without Larry she tends to go very quiet on me, and with her, I'm not one to push. She's a temperamental muse, as anyone who's interacted with her would tell you, so I think it's time to let her go, and maybe she'll come back to me later. Or appear as an NPC elsewhere -- who knows?

As for anyone who's interacted with her, it's been very fun, and I hope you've enjoyed her while she was here.

[Cowritten with lawyerlarry.]

Kevin was in an elevator.

Not that he didn't spend a portion of his time that was entirely too large in elevators, he usually had more pleasant company. Usually of the half-naked variety. With the exception of when it was Caroline Parker, but that sounded much more odd to say in his younger years than it did now. Not that Caroline was ever anything of a slut, mind you, nor was he incredibly gifted at sweeping women off their feet, but well -- they'd just known each other two long to ever go to that particular section of uncharted territory in their relationship. Which Kevin was more than happy to continue ignoring, because he valued Caroline very dearly as a friend, and should circumstances arise that they would start sleeping together, she may demand he stop buying her things. And frankly, he couldn't think of anything better to spend his copious amounts of money on than her.

Besides, for the past five years she's only had eyes for one man anyway, whether she'd admit it or not.

Regardless, Kevin was in an elevator, watching as he descended through the floors to his penthouse where he was staying to the rest of the world where he was supposed to be working. What he actually did, he still would probably never be able to explain to you, but it gave him an excuse to wear a suit, and that, as far as he was concerned, was the most important part.

Larry rubbed his brow as he waited for the elevator on his floor. He was tired and it had been a long week already. He really just wanted to end the trial and go home. He was starting to learn more than ever that New York was over for him. The crazy bustle of arguing the law in the city was over for him. He wanted to go home.

( *** )

[Future-ish in the AU!verse. lawyerlarry used with permission. Written for defy_n_gravity.]

“If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said with a sigh, tilting her head to the side slightly as she put on her earrings. “I hate events like this.”

Kevin just glanced up at her with a grin, as he slid his watch back over his wrist and moved to lean over her shoulder. “But you look pretty,” he smirked, sliding his arm around her waist.

“Flattery gets you nowhere, Kevin,” she said with a sigh, before straightening and looking in the mirror, biting her lip slightly as she studied her reflection. “Are you sure there’s not going to be anyone I know at this thing?”

“Promise,” he nodded. “The firm is in a different state for Christ’s sake. How many people can you know in the vast place that is the United States?”

“You’re right,” she said. “You’re right.”

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked at her.

“Yup,” she said with a nod, before stepping back and smoothing her dress slightly. “Ready to go?”

“So long as you are,” he sighed, before picking up his jacket and sliding it over his shoulder. “Let’s go be glamorous.”

“Yes,” she said with a grin as she took his arm. “Let’s.”

( *** )

680 words

Seeing as Cora is no longer part of lawandorder_siu, there is no longer a SIU!verse on this journal. However, since she and Larry are actually getting to be happy in that verse, and you know -- not dysfunctional, as per usual -- I don't want to just let that verse fade to black quite yet.

Therefore! The verse has been renamed to [verse] come down to me. Not that anyone really watches this journal other than Larry, but I figured I'd put it out there anyway, just so no one's confused.

Done!

She really shouldn’t be calling him.

He was the one who said that it was best that they didn’t see each other anymore. He sent her the whole long e-mail that she hadn’t bothered to respond to, because it seemed that everything that needed to be said already had been. She had went out, let Riley get her piss drunk because he was the only man who would neither take advantage of her nor complain about her not telling him why. It was why she still valued Riley as a pseudo friend—or whatever he was to her at the time.

But now things had changed drastically. It was one thing not contacting him when he was doing moderately well, but it was another thing entirely when he was keeling over from a heart attack. She should call him and see how he was doing. She needed to call him and see how he was doing.

She hit send on the cell phone before she lost her nerve, placing the phone to her ear and letting it ring, but secretly praying that it went to voicemail, just so she wouldn’t have to deal with this right about now. If nothing else, procrastination was her best friend.

The case had gone less smoothly than she would have liked, which was something new for her, but it wasn't anything less than what had been expected. The man was guilty on all counts, and there really wasn't anyway she could prove otherwise without making herself look like an idiot -- and even that was something she wasn't sure she had prevented. The only thing left for her to do was hop on a train and get away from the city for a while, maybe finally get some peace and quiet for herself.

When she pulled up to the house in the rental car, she didn't expect the lighthouse. Which was odd, considering that he had said as much the few times when they did speak, but she had always thought he may have been exaggerating. Because really, who actually owns a lighthouse? But apparently she was very mistaken and this was very much an actual lighthouse. Climbing out of the car, she slipped her overnight bag over one shoulder and started to make her way towards the door, wondering what she actually might say as to what she was doing here and all that, but eventually she gave up on having the exact words and just thought about what she was going to say.

With a heavy sigh she stopped in front of his door and knocked. He didn't know she was coming, and frankly, she wasn't even sure if he wanted to see her, but she was there, at least. Rejection was better than no contact at all.

I was in high school, and there was this guy named Matt. He was pretty much the biggest asshole on campus, but he also happened to have the prettiest smile out of all the boys in the class, so naturally, girls flocked to him like pigeons. He had a few girls who he kept close for blow jobs in the bathroom various reasons, and while thinking back on it now, it was positively disgusting, but back then—I was desperate to be one of the chosen few.

I was alright looking when I was a teenager, I guess, but I was also the poor kid in a class of rich bastards, so that didn’t get me a lot of positive attention. Throw on top of that that I was girl who actually had a brain, and I was pretty much screwed when it came to friends. Being one of Matt’s mindless sex toys was basically my root in, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew exactly what was going on, but when you’re sixteen with no friends, you start to get a bit desperate.

Anyway, he started wanting answers to the homework, and he started flirting with me in order to get them. At first I rolled my eyes, and pretended that I wasn’t interested in his exploitation of his natural charm, but eventually he turned on the puppy dog eyes, so I made him a deal that if he went on a date with me—a real date, not one of his trips to the girls room—I would help him with his homework. He, desperate himself, agreed.

Worst date I have ever been on.

First of all, he took me to Coney Island, and proceeded to stuff himself with sugar before dragging me on every ride they had. The evening culminated with him puking all over my new shoes as we finished up our round on the Tilt-a-Whirl. And in the end, he still expected to get some kind of sexual compensation. I socked him in the stomach. (It was justified, but you had to have been there.)

Anyway, I’m comforted by the fact that his father disowned him at some point, for some unknown reason, and now he’s balding and managing a corner store in the Village. If I were a more vindictive person, I’d probably go by there as often as possible just to rub in his face that I make more money than he does.

But the Village is really out of my way.

421 words

Okay, he's already met Melanie, but Melanie is one of the most air headed people I know, and probably forgot that it ever happened. Hell, Larry's probably forgotten that it even happened. But whatever family I do have—they wouldn’t get it. They really wouldn’t get it.

So why even bother? Seriously? Besides—I hate most of them anyway. Why would introduce them to one of the few friends I have, just so they can badmouth me to his face, and pick fights for no apparent reason? It’s just not worth the hassle and the heartache.

Besides, I recently learned how he feels about me encountering his family, so why should I introduce him to mine?

I’m not bitter about that. I’m really not. I’m just saying—if he doesn’t want me around Sam, who he actually really cares about, why should I consider him meeting my family? It’s just the way things are.

158 words

Depends on the relationship. In a real relationship, the kind I usually don’t do—I like exclusivity. If you’re going to tell me you want things to be exclusive, and I actually agree to it (a rare event, but occasionally it does actually happen), you better make damn well sure that you keep the that promise, or so help me God I will hurt you. It may not be physical, it may not be emotional, precisely, but it will happen. And you will regret you ever even thought about stepping out on me. That’s a promise.

I just think that if you’re going to put in the effort to get me to promise to be exclusive, when I’m a woman that will clearly let you sleep around if you so desired, then you better make sure you hold yourself to the same standards. I mean, it’s a pretty sweet set-up, a friends-with-benefits style relationship. You get laid and you don’t have to work or pay for it. If you want to get a girl like that to be exclusive, and then you cheat on her, you’re a damn idiot, and don’t deserve any kind of mercy whatsoever. That’s just the bottom line, really.

I don’t like being hurt. No one does really—that’s old news. I get that being hurt happens sometimes (hell, it just happened to me recently, but I’m not going to get into that here). But what I hate the most is getting hurt for stupid reasons like exclusivity when I made it clear that I was fine with having a nonexclusive relationship. How is that fair to either party? So the girl invests this time and effort into the relationship, and who knows, maybe actually develops feelings for the guy and what does she get? What amounts to pretty much a slap in the face. As I said, it’s not fair to either party.

But then again, you know why the guy does it. It goes back to those old chauvinist ideals, hard wired into their system. Women are property, and the only good kind of a relationship is the one where she’s yours and no one else’s. And if you want to even go Greek with it, the idea that a woman’s sole purpose in life is to be faithful to her man, meanwhile he can get his ass wherever he pleases. But the guys gotta learn that that shit just isn’t going to fly with women in this generation.

Pull that ancient, patriarchal, macho-pig idiocy with me? I’ll see you in court. End of story.

431 words

I lie because it makes things easier. I lie because when I say something that sounds stupid, mushy and emotional, but I sincerely mean it, I’m not looking for anyone’s pity or sympathy. I don’t have any close friends that I feel comfortable bearing my soul to, because every other time I’ve tried talking to someone about my feelings, I get those looks. Looks that give you the indication that they’re looking down on you. I hate that, more than any other look I get. Contempt I can handle, hatred as well. I can’t deal with pity.

Pity takes me back to being a thirteen year-old girl who was getting scholarship money to attend the expensive prep schools. Parents and teachers looked down at the little poor girl whose parents couldn’t afford to pay to send her to the better schools. I was a charity case, and I’ve been getting my pitiful looks my whole life because of it. When I was a kid, I was too young to do anything about it, but now that I’m older, I’m in a position where I can change that. I’ve been pitiful all through my childhood; I don’t need to be pitiful with the people I work with, and especially the men I’m sleeping with. So I lie. I make it seem as though I don’t care, or say the opposite of what I really feel, because whether or not I said how I really feel isn’t going to make a difference anyway—in the end it’s not my decision what they do, just how it effects me is.

So lying makes things go down a little easier.

276 words

One of my greatest fears in a relationship is that I’m going to wind up being left alone. It’s happened to me too many times before, for various different reasons. And there’s always a reason:

- Not pretty enough
- Not good enough in bed
- Not smart enough
- Too smart
- Not good enough in court
- Too good in court
- They’ve been seeing someone else
- They’ve met someone else
- They’re moving
- I’m moving

The list goes on and on. It’s why I don’t do relationships to begin with. There’s always some kind of excuse for why they want to leave me behind, and after a while, you just get sick of them. Which is why when you just maintain friends-with-benefits relationships, things just get easier. There’s no excuses, no reasons, just—“We’re done.” Saves both peoples prides and doesn’t require any kind of explanation. And with my life and the job I do, I don’t have time for complicated situations and waiting for explanations. Just boom, done.

And frankly, I’m all for making my life easier.

173 words