$ = for neve because of ...reasons
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[ SENT 2:24 AM to vanessa DO NOT TEXT ] do you ever think about what we could have done differently? if the outcome would have been the same? [ SENT 2:24 AM to vanessa DO NOT TEXT ] sorry, wrong number. please disregard [ guinevere lovelace has blocked vanessa DO NOT TEXT ]
➥ status : open with guinevere lovelace ➥ location : the dead lucky casino
the lights cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the casino as guinevere navigates with purpose through the throng of self proclaimed very important people and mercy agents. gaze sharp and discerning scans the crowd for familiar faces, turning away before she can make eye contact with someone she used to know, and she finds herself approaching the bar with measured steps. with a tilt of her head and her best approximation of a charming smile, she pulls the person closest to her into conversation involuntarily. " luck not on your side tonight ? or are you just on edge anticipating something to go wrong like it did the last time there were one too many agents packed in the same room ? "
➥ STATUS : CLOSED @skyf4llz ➥ FEATURING : AGENTARISTOTLE + AGENTVITALIS
with the two of them having started at mercy within a year of each other and lysander having been a mentor to maxime, he takes the responsibility for tracking aristotle down. he approaches with purpose in his steps, a rare thing nowadays, hand coming down on aristotle's shoulder to prevent him from slipping away so fast. " you are hurt. " there is no question in his tone, not when his own ability rings alarm bells as soon as he comes into the vicinity of someone in pain. " what the fuck is wrong with you ? "
swann arlaud in anatomy of a fall (2023) dir. justine triet
maybe it's just in his nature to be a wet blanket, because he can't find reconciliation in a one grand voucher to a casino. a poor attempt from the executive board to smooth things over and placate agents and civilians alike. part of him hopes it doesn't work, part of him holds out that enough people will see through the fragile facade that it will have no choice but to fall apart. he never relished in destruction, but there would be something satisfying about this. he drinks water like it's whiskey, weighty crystal glass in one hand, and crumpled up voucher in the other. maxime clings to the corner, in an illusion of safety. there is no reason for him to be here if he really doesn't want to, but he still feels that he must watch for his juniors, if not his peers. a field agent approaches, and maxime immediately has the need to change everything about his demeanor, to project the smallest prickle of pain within those closest to ward off others. he does nothing. sighs, sips at his water, and increasingly wishes it was alcohol with every word caine says. " you are a gambler. " plain, succinct. not a no, not a yes, not an admonishment, only an acknowledgement. blue eyes meet blue, searching for true intention and finding nothing. maxime smooths out his voucher but does not hand it over. " i will let you have it under the condition that you try something involving strategy. roulette is a waste of your time and money. "
WHO: Caine Jackson & OPEN WHERE: Dead Lucky Casino
The moment that voucher touched Caine's hands, he took off in search of the casino. He spent his youth wandering from shelter to shelter, hands aching to grasp onto any dollar or morsel of food he could find. To look down at his hand and see such a high number would've done wonders for his childhood self, but now, he felt nothing but the need to gamble with it. Call it greed, a need to give in to his vices once again, or him being a glutton for potential punishment, but he decided to go big or go home.
And it appeared that he was meant to go home. Loss after loss at the roulette wheel meant that the money the voucher afforded him was all but spent, and he was left with nothing but a bruised ego and a bitter taste of defeat on his tongue.
He glanced around to determine his next move, eyes finally settling on a familiar face. He wandered over to their side, ❝Those roulette wheel dudes are fucking scam artists. How do you not land on black 20 times in a row?❞ Caine didn't bother questioning the fact that he chose to place his bets on the same spot even after losing 19 other times. ❝Anyways, you spend your voucher yet?❞
brows furrow in concern as sabine trails off. it's easy enough for them to finish off the sentence half said, and their heart aches for her. being a junior agent isn't easy; it's not been that long since she was one herself, giving reason to her inflexibility around taking breaks and stopping burn out.
the next hit is harder than the rest, surprising yejide and causing her to let go of the bag once she's sure it's steadied. " training like this is not a break. one day off isn't gonna put you behind, sab. " she moves between sabine and the bag, arms crossed over her chest in mock reprimand. all work and no play makes agents dull people — and it's not so hard to find evidence of this. as much as they love their computers, they can only stare at them for so long before the code starts floating off the screen, and their time in interrogation isn't exactly a highlight. " how 'bout we call it a night here, do something fun, then pick this back up in the morning. i'll be here to help 'n everything. scout's honor. you can even choose if we stay in headquarters or venture outside. " dark brown eyes sparkle with mischief, their permanent smile wide in anticipation of a yes.
" relief skims over her features and soaks her insides at the recognizable voice that reaches from the shadows , a soft , almost unnoticeable smile pulling at the corner of her lips — she knows she’s safe here , however , mistrust is so ingrained within she can’t help but wear her apprehension on her sleeve . as strong , nimble hands still the sack , sabine resumes her previous attack position , and for a moment , a nod is the only answer in her fog of concentration . " yeah , i usually … you know , train with someone , but haven’t had the time and started feeling numb lately , so … " she leaves the sentence in the air as if yejide would know exactly what she was going to say ( and maybe , they did ) . but then , after the first few collisions of fists against leather , yejide’s true nature comes out . sabine has to contain a snort because it is always like this . " don’t , " the warning is swift , firm , marked by a new punch that moves the bag enough for the chains holding it up to rattle . she stops to shoot the next words , " this is my break , yeji , don’t you even think about it . ” yet it was her the one already thinking about it , about what yejide could have in mind , since her ideas were often such a fascinating place .
in hindsight, her avoidance of those most familiar tonight has been intentional, ducking her head to let her hair shield her profile from view, choosing to go left when she'd been headed right. guinevere lovelace is not a coward, but she is aggrieved. she ends up, somehow, at a blackjack table. her betting is restrained to the table minimum, not out of an excess of caution, but of heart and will. she isn't here for money. a story is the reason she gave her editor, investigation is the one she gives herself. neve steps away from the table when she doubles her cash, chips in hand as she searches for fresh air. she finds it in the solitude of a dark spring night, tucked mostly away from the crowd. still, it's not a perfect hiding place, as is proven by mara's appearance. the funeral wasn't the difficult part. neither was the actual death. it's the burial that happens every morning, the feeling that she's trapped behind her own rib cage and unable to slip out. she buried parts of herself when she threw dirt over elidyr's empty casket. she buried parts of herself — albeit smaller — the night eli showed up at her mercy dorm half-drunk and tongue tied about his girlfriend. ex-girlfriend. ( ' she doesn't deserve you ' said without hearing the story, countered by a hiccuping ' i love her ' ) she lost two siblings within the span of weeks, one by blood another by bond. years have passed but the bitterness on her tongue lingers, a stain she can't get out no matter how many times she cleans.
" i — " rarely is she left struggling for words. she bounces between civility and contentiousness, and chooses to don a front of politeness. neve's mouth tightens, though she smiles as she plays off her reaction as surprise. " i'm not. i guess it's the closest i can get to an arcade right now. managed to win fifty bucks. " eli had been fond of vintage games and new releases alike, she still has a game that she'd been meaning to gift him for his birthday tucked away somewhere. " could say the same for you. mercy's still in the business of changing people, then ? how much was the voucher again ? heard it was a grand, but no one's confirming. " how easily she settles into her element — journalism and information extraction. she may have been a great agent had she stayed.
CLOSED ⸻ guinevere , @greatpain
half empty glass of champagne is stained cherry red around the rolled rim, unique as a fingerprint. abandoned, left to condensate atop the flashing neon promise of a slot machine. she is a self-tamed creature, primordial devotion a patchwork of girlhood starvation and the devouring that followed, that has never stopped. she is all mouth. had tried to swallow guinevere whole, the tenderest consumption, after atropos severed the human tether that had so effortlessly knotted them together. fumbled for the fraying edges of that clean cut, following it to the glutted dénouement of abandonment at the other end.
the fourteenth floor balcony. still carrying the remains of that tether, saturated with the burgundy stain of old blood. more appendage than object. " i never took you for a gambler, " mara hesitates in their distant periphery, an uncharacteristic nervous hope flickering like a pilot light. that inherent lure to another, steadying presence of the sibling. near sibling, if it must be said. inimitable, but always begging. the absence is violent all the same, claws and teeth and open wounds. no one escapes siblinghood unscathed. but here, in the irreverent springtime chill, an offering of balm .. " have you won anything ? "
" your confidence is ... " he fights for a way to phrase this into a compliment — or at least something that isn't outright discouraging. by no means does he believe any division is better or worse than another ( it's biomedical at the lead without question, but who's keeping count ? ) so he settles on, " ... admirable. it is important to remember that the organization would be defunct without the continued collaboration of all departments and agents from all avenues of life. that includes those field agents you are putting down. "
starter : julia ft. open @ unspecified location w/in mercy hq
" i'm just saying, " julia says, with all the confidence of someone who is about to expose everyone in the vicinity to the worst take of all time, " there's nothing a field agent can do that an intel agent can't do better. " says the intel agent with absolutely no in-person subterfuge skills — they can only lie when there's a computer screen between them and whoever they're talking to.
➥ STATUS : CLOSED @or4cles ➥ FEATURING : AGENTMOIRAI + AGENTBYTE
" sitting out here alone ? something the matter ? " a better question would probably be what isn't the matter. their brain is fried, no, disintegrated. they're holding on to what little scraps of sanity they have left, vision going in and out of focus the longer they stay up researching absolutely nothing. some fresh air is warranted, even if the spring night chill has her wrapping her hoodie around herself. " d'you wanna talk ? i can also offer distractions. "
➥ STATUS : CLOSED @doghoods ➥ FEATURING : AGENTEPSILON + AGENTVITALIS
he doesn't enjoy conducting conversations that hold weight from behind the safety of his desk. it gives an illusion of power that's very quickly slipping out of his shaking hands. instead, he sits comfortably at a table in the training area of the biomedical wing, practicing suture techniques on synthetic flesh because one can never be too confident in their skills. ( most of his concentration goes into ensuring his hands are stable, that he is the absolute picture of what a surgeon should be, a figure for agents to look up to, not condemn ) " you are holding back from something. " needle pierces fake skin, and he pulls the thread taut without looking. " there is no one else here. it is as close to a safe place as we can get right now. talk. "
the world tried to burn all the mercy out of me […] but you know i wouldn’t let it
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