─ birds are silent for the night ─ closed

[slaughter beach, dog]

ind
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𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑼𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑼 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑵𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑨𝑳 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑺

(the BSA) is a privately funded branch of the International Organization of Anomalous Activity concerned with
the tracing, containment, and surveillance of non-human beings.

You are receiving this message due to a 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 to 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐍.

Your 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 make you suitable for the 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆❟ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓❟ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 of class 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 beings.

Please report to your 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐑 at the BSA Facility listed in the attached information slip.

If you have any concerns about your employment, please fax our Human Resources Coordinator at )̴̜̀(̴̧̧͙̈͊/̸̢̭͔̀=̴̻͛)̴̯͆͆͝"̸̼́̍́(̷̻̅̈≠̙̂≠̥͙͛)̵̝͓̎͐͠#̵͙̥̘̔̚(̸̖͚̉)̵̢̜͚̆=̴̡͐͑

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

The memorial for the members of class one Team Sigma will be held in your assigned Facility's canteen on the fourth Monday
following the autumnal equinox.

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in

resources: sword elk bird feather book font

-
-

[slaughter beach, dog]

───────────────────────────────────────────────

As a member of Team Epsilon at the Bureau of Supernatural
Affairs, you are tasked with the tracing, containment, and sur-
veillance of class three beings: most commonly werewolves,
vampires, or any resulting hybrid with at least a quarter of
what is considered "supernatural blood" ─ genetic material that
is non-human. Employees of the BSA ─ often referred to as
"agents" or "officers" when no specific title is given ─ keep
files on any supernatural beings in their assigned area. They en-
sure that these supernaturals do not pose a threat to the human
population, and in turn, keep them safe by ensuring they re-
main secret from the vast majority of humans.
When a new supernatural is turned by what the Bureau refers
to as a "malefactor" ─ a progenitor that does not ensure the
stability of its progeny (stick around to let them know what's
happening) ─ a team is sent out to find and contain the "new-
born" and potentially eliminate the malefactor. The "new-
born" is trained in the ins and outs of their new circumstances

at a Facility to ensure they will not harm a human, and then discharged to live their life as a registered supernatural. Simple, right? When they
cooperate, that is. Flaky fathers aren't the only type of malefactor, and some supernaturals are outright feral. It's up to the teams of the Bureau
─ including Team Epsilon ─ to handle these cases. The vast majority of newborns are happy to receive a 101 on supernatural life, considering they
have found themselves in a rather unfamiliar and even frightening situation. However, supernaturals who have not yet been taught to control their
powers can be quite volatile, and agents unfortunately have to accept the fact that occasionally, they will be struck by a flying chair or have teeth
chomping at their neck (please consult your employee handbook for correct procedure in such situations ─ what? are you saying you lost your
employee handbook?).

───────────────────────────────────────────────

───────────────────────────────────────────────

The Team Epsilon Facility is located in a secluded, wooded area in Washington ─ above
it stands a mansion, which the team uses as a cover, but the real facility exists under-
ground. Most agents have to live in the underground accommodations to ensure readi-
ness in the event of an emergency, but the mansion is still a fully functional house with
a hefty five bedrooms and three bathrooms. As a supernatural agrees they are ready
to be discharged from the Facility, the Epsilon team leader tends to let them bunk in
the house until they get back on their feet. Both the mansion and the Facility are
highly secure ─ no one exits or enters without leaving a record. All rooms have sepa-
rately operated security doors to be used in emergencies. In the above-ground garage,
there are also two modified Jeeps that the team uses when mobilizing.
In the Facility itself, there are team areas along one hallway:
• A shared kitchen and canteen space, adjacent to the common area.
• Quarters for sleeping and the storage of any personal items. Most of these quarters
are centered around a cozy (cramped) common area with the exception of the team
leader's quarters, as they are adjacent to the meeting room and thus located down
the hall.
• The meeting room, where the Team assembles to discuss mission details. They have
advanced technology at their disposal, which they use to record intelligence about new-
borns and malefactors, and to contact the headquarters.
• The locked equipment storage, where you can find some seriously impressive hard-
ware. This equipment includes but is not limited to: body armor, and hi-tech weaponry
with settings from stun to lethal.
And other spaces along the second hallway:
• Durable quarters for housing any supernaturals: Is your newborn throwing a full moon
tantrum? Stick them in that one bedroom where the furniture is bolted to the floor.
• Training spaces for both physical and mental education: "Please Don't Chew on People"
and "This is How You Keep Yourself from Chewing on People in Practice".
• Recreational. Playing ping-pong with a vampire is only fun for about ten seconds.
• The Medical Bay. Ouch.
• The Lockers ─ supernatural jail for any malefactors waiting to be processed and sent
along to the headquarters. Someone keeps accidentally locking another agent in them.
It's totally not a prank.

-
-

[slaughter beach, dog]

───────────────────────────────────────────────

Domingo Serrano

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 #𝟐

The less beloved half of this
forbidden romance. He's tough,
a little rude, and kind of amoral,
but #1 seems to soften him, so
better not interfere.

herald.

Aurelia Donahue

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 #𝟏

Is this even allowed? Probably
not, but everyone likes her,
so they kind of ignore it ─ al-
though better keep it hidden
from that new team leader.

fawn,

Cyrus Rhee

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓

A lengthy background in the
army, he takes his job extreme-
ly seriously, but he's also vital in
the sense that he's like.. a phe-
nomenal cook.

mtuan,

Alexandra "Alex" Iversen

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐍

Former Team Sigma ─ losing your
team and getting demoted from
class one to class three all in one
day? Ouch, pal. Welcome to
Team Epsilon!

chevreuil

───────────────────────────────────────────────

Lawrence "Ren" McCan

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄-𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑

The scholar of Team Epsilon, his
days range from being in mortal
danger to feeling like a glorified
kindergarten teacher, but a job
is a job... right?

dxisyy

Alastair Dumont

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘

He was once bitten right in
the neck and I swear he didn't
even tear up. Oh, and that one
time he wrestled a feral were-
wolf! Wait, did anyone actually
see either of these happen?

dirt`

Joel Nielson

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐓

Team Epsilon's very own emer-
gency medical technician. Sounds
like a recipe for requiring early
retirement...
... please?

baddad

Andrea "Andi" Elcott

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐍

1/8th werewolf, the Trailsman
cannot shift into a wolf, but she
does have extranormal tracking
abilities ─ does not smell like a
wet dog... or does she?

pandemonium

───────────────────────────────────────────────

Keith Lewis

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐗𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐘

Is someone trying to eat the
re-educator again? I'll fetch the
broom. The auxiliary picks up
the slack where needed, which
often means keeping an eye on
the newborns. Arguably one of
the toughest jobs in the entire
team.

baddad

indentindent

Cohen Briarsmith

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃
𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐓

The Underworld Aristocrat
knows the ins and outs of the
supernatural world. How?
They come from one of the
most prominent class five
fairy families in the world.
You weren't aware of the ex-
istence of a supernatural
elite? You are now.

aj.

indentindent

Annalise Galloway

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐑

This BSA-appointed therapist
is meant to assess the psycho-
logical state of the newborns
upon arrival and throughout
their rehabilitation, but con-
sidering her nervous dispo-
sition, she could use a
therapist of her own.

dxisyy

───────────────────────────────────────────────

───────────────────────────────────────────────

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐒

Duncan Walker

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑

A werewolf who has been an on-
and-off resident of the Lockers
for a while now. For some rea-
son, team leader seems unwilling
to give up on him, even after his
constant relapses into ferality.

aj.

indentindent

Bellamy Crawford

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑

There's a good reason why hell-
hounds are usually taken down
at first sight: BSA agents con-
sider them a sign of imminent
death, and the Bureau agrees.

chevreuil

indentindent

Jake Wood

𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐎

A newborn causing chaos in
Washington ─ Team Epsilon's
newest assignment. Werewolf?
Vampire? Megahybrid? There's
no knowing before we find him.

bailey.t136

───────────────────────────────────────────────

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

Kennedy "Ken" Parker

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓

First refused to discharge her-
self, then decided to move into
the mansion semi-permanently.
Is it genuine hesitation or pure
laziness? Just move out already.

wildsight

indentindent

Polt

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐓

Okay, hear me out - there's a
ghost that haunts the Facility. I'm
being serious! How else would you
explain the mess in the kitchen?
Alastair? What about the noises
upstairs? Ken? Well...

dirt`

indentindent

Vincere Meng

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐂

Things keep going missing from
the Facility, and no one's quite
sure how or why, but after a few
days, they are usually found on
the lawn of the cover house.
Strange.

mtuan,

[slaughter beach, dog]

───────────────────────────────────────────────

𝐈. Make sure you're familiar with the cs rules. 𝐈𝐈. Ask me if you
have any questions! 𝐈𝐈𝐈. As this is a semi-literate roleplay, posts
should be at least 500 words. 𝐈𝐕. One role per player for now,
but this might change! 𝐕. I encourage diversity ─ this roleplay is
lgbtq+ inclusive <3 𝐕𝐈. Faceclaims should be realistic. 𝐕𝐈𝐈. Char-
acter ages should be 20+ ─ there's no upper limit, but maybe
it's best not to let grandpa go wrangling werewolves... unless?
𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈. Post your forms in the discussion thread. 𝐈𝐗. Discord will
unfortunately be mandatory to ensure effective discussion about
plot and relationships. 𝐗. Try to be proactive! Come up with con-
flict, funny incidents, and interesting relationships! These are
what keep a roleplay going.
𝐗𝐈. What do I mean by 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒? Characters
may possess traits that are not necessarily present in our real
world ─ although they are not supernaturals, they may have
skills such as incredible aim or a little trace of supernatural
blood that makes them invulnerable to being turned. They were
recruited by the Bureau for a reason: Use your imagination!

[slaughter beach, dog]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑹𝑶𝑳𝑬𝑷𝑳𝑨𝒀 𝑯𝑨𝑺 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑫.

[slaughter beach, dog]

─ BSA SUPERVISORY AGENT ────
────────────── 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐀 ─ ❞𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗❞ ─ 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐍 ─── ⚙ ─── ─ ─

LOCATION; outside Team Epsilon Facility, Washington ─ TAGGING; Duncan, Ken ─ MENTIONED; Jake, Team Epsilon ─ WC; 3,087

█ ██║▌
█ ██║▌
█ ██║▌

It was sweltering inside the helmet. A late summer heatwave had struck Washington, D.C. with unusual humidity, ensuring that it became twice as laborious to pull in oxygen through the air filters in the heaviest gear the BSA boasted. Alex adjusted her grip on the surge rifle in her gloved hands as the steady stream of lightly hissing words that had been flowing into her ear through the helmet's comms paused with a crackle, only to resume with a "Sigma Five Bravo, Sigma Five Bravo, this is Sigma Base. To follow. Over." She glanced at her squad, all eight of them gathered in front of a heavy door leading into a rusting industrial building — inside of which they would find an uncategorized class one interdimensional being.
indentindent"Roger Sigma Base, this is Sigma Five Bravo. Over," she called into the comms, and the rest of the team visibly straightened, awaiting to hear their orders. The inside of her helmet buzzed again as the voice returned, robotic and altered by the imperfect connection typical in the vicinity of potentially reality-altering phenomena.
indent"Sigma Five Bravo, engage objective Delta. Break." A moment of silence. The secondary squad was to enter the industrial building and set up three pylons to power up the suppression field. She signaled the others, gesturing with her arm towards the rusted door. Scott and Moore began prying it open as the remaining six aligned into formation and pointed their barrels at the widening gap. "Sigma Six Alpha executing objective Charlie. Over." The primary squad had entered through the other end and engaged the being, directing it away from Alex's team until the field would be ready to use.
indent"Sigma Base, this Sigma Five Bravo. Wilco. Over."
indentindentAlex stepped into the columns of alternating light and shade cast across the concrete floor by the sun leaking in through the strips of shattered windows high up near the ceiling, and her team filed in behind her. Sunspots flickered across the ground beneath the rust-eaten holes in the roof's metal panels. The air inside was a stark contrast to the humidity outside, and it seemed to be dropping degrees with each step. She gestured to the four agents at each of her flanks, but before they could depart and leave her, Simons, and Scott to deal with the third pylon, it was as if someone had sucked the light out of the building and replaced it with a low, undulating hum. Her ear buzzed again over the thrum.
indent"Sigma Five Bravo, this is Sigma Base. Confirm visual on Sigma si—" the transmission cut off with a sharp whine that had Alex flinching her head to the side as if it could distance her from the comm stuck in her ear. She steadied her breathing, and soon eight distinct beeps emerged in a misshaped halo around her. Alex tapped her thigh to turn on her indicator, letting the rest of the squad know that their executive officer hadn't abandoned them.
indent"Sigma Base, this is Sigma Five Bravo. Say again. Over." Nothing but the static whine in return, and soon the feedback itself was waning into bursts of faint crackling. "Sigma Base, say again." She repeated, to no avail. "Sigma b-" Her third try was cut off by Simons.
indent"Where's primary?" his voice was muffled through the barrier of both of their helmets, but the alarm in it was now audible due to the echoing silence in their comms.
indent"Keep your head, Simons," came Moore's steady reply from Alex's six. Moore had been made class one Team Sigma the same time she had, but Simons was a recent class two promotion — in fact, this mission would be his first contact with an interdimensional being.
indentindent"Let the rookie shake a little in his boots, Moore, the real deal's a lot different from that training sim," Scott guffawed from somewhere in the darkness, but his laughter quickly died off, and Alex could hear a set of feet shuffling against the concrete floor. "What's the plan, Iversen?" he questioned, the direction of his words guided only by the beeping in the pitch black. Alex had been flipping through blueprints projected onto her visor, but they no longer had satellite location — they would have to navigate using their last known position before the signals disappeared, and without knowledge of the others' location beyond what the indicators could tell them. Night vision would be useless.
indent"Switch to sightless navigation. Moore, Simons, with me. Scott, team two. Indicators— they stay on," she listed, ticking the boxes in her mind. She wanted the rookie near lest he trip up one of the other teams, and Moore seemed to be helping the man keep his nerve. However, the indicators would be a risk if primary had been forced to withdraw, but it was a call she would have to make. Either they set up the pylons or they let the being make its way from the desolate industrial area to the center of the capital, where it might swallow up a chunk of the city, and hundreds of civilians could be lost to another reality — unreachable and as good as dead.
indentindentAlex called for Moore and Simons to follow her as the two other sets of beeps departed for the sides of the hall. Perhaps twenty steps into their advance towards the riskiest of the pylon locations, the darkness shifted rapidly, nearly dizzying, and she called for her team to halt again. A burst reverberated in the vastness of the industrial building, letting them hear the space around them, although they could see none of it. Yet it wasn't an organic sound, but instead the unmistakable purr emitted by a surge rifle as it discharged. The vivid blue muzzle flare on her right briefly cut through the darkness and illuminated the black helmet of the weapon's bearer and the bold numbers painted across the matte surface. Simons had not kept his head. The pulse advanced through the dark as if weaving past ribbons of black silk, before distorting and disappearing into the devouring void that was hurtling towards them.
indentindentThe ground was torn from beneath Alex's feet, and the only thing keeping her insides from lurching unpleasantly were the hours upon hours she had spent in the strangest of training simulators. Without being able to see the alternating ceiling and floor as she spun through the air, it was as if she were floating weightless through space. She landed with a thud and rolled what must have been several feet, her helmet cracking against the concrete with each spin. The end of her momentum came in the form of what sounded — and felt — like a steel beam making pitiless contact with her left side, and the patter against the fractured surface of her helmet must have been flakes of rust raining down from above.
indentindentFissures of light leaking into her field of vision told her that the darkness in the building was receding, but both the internal screen and her visor were too shattered to see through. She strained against the full-body ache to pry off her helmet, and although her left arm was refusing to comply, she managed to tear the wrecked piece of equipment away from her with her right. Fatigue had turned gravity into an irresistible force, so she allowed her cheek to lay flat against the concrete floor in spite of the debris that dug into her temple and scraped against the skin of her jaw.
indentindentThrough the black spots spreading in her vision, Alex could see half of her team discharging their rifles at the twisting mass of darkness as the other half struggled to set up the pylons. Then the darkness flared violently, consuming everything except the few feet in front of her, but as it ebbed and faded into nothingness, her team and the pylons were nowhere to be seen. Paralyzing dread rushed down Alex's spine like a wave of frigid water. The squad had disappeared into thin air, leaving behind only the deafening quiet and a gaping hole in the middle of the ground.
indentindentAlex's vision blackened and her head filled with static, then a blank nothingness, until she awakened to a blindingly bright light and a splitting throb inside of her skull. The clinical inside of a BSA hospital, somewhere in the East Coast; an undisclosed location in Delaware, she had later found out — near the waterfront. They had managed to cart her far during the week she had spent out of it.
indentindentMost of the next few hours had been a blur. Someone higher ranking than her — she couldn't recall who and what — had strolled into her room, informed her that Team Sigma — both the primary and secondary squads — had been declared killed in action, and she would be the team's final casualty due to her demotion into a class three supervisory agent. That face had been replaced by a doctor, who she could mostly tell apart from the Agent by his clothes, considering both of their faces had refused to stick in her recollection. Her arm was gone, but they had given her another. Deep breaths. Team Sigma was gone, but they would replace it with another. Deep breaths. Nod.

indentindentAlex blinked herself out of the sea of jumbled images and proceeded to tear her eyes away from the car window. Only when she locked eyes with the driver, Agent Haugen, in the rear view mirror, did she realize for how long she must have been staring at nothing in particular, because she had never before seen the man's burly, heavily bearded face stray from its rather pleasant serenity, and yet there it was, peering back at her with kind eyes framed by unconcealed concern.
indentindentThey had spent years in the same academy in Norway, and perhaps back then she had been more open — willing to consider someone a friend — but in her mind, the time they had spent in the opposite ends of a new country had cooled whatever camaraderie had existed between them. Alex knew well that she shouldn't underestimate the BSA's ability to know about every single person she had interacted with in the past, and even less did she hesitate to believe it was the exact reason they had chosen him to welcome her to the rainy state of Washington and chauffeur her to the Facility of Team Epsilon. Still, she had spoken barely a word after her plane had touched down on one of the Bureau's private airstrips.
indentindentHaugen sighed and Alex sensed he was about to open his mouth, so she didn't give him the chance to speak.
indent"Det er ingenting. Jeg har det bra — alt er bra," she allowed the Norwegian to dance across her tongue uncurbed as she brushed him off with just a few too many words to avoid undermining everything she had said, and it didn't help that she was speaking the words more to the insulation of the window than the man in the driver's seat, but he seemed to get the hint and turned his eyes back towards the wet stretch of asphalt plastered with the first dead leaves of autumn. Her own steely gaze fixated on the window, where she could see the reflection of the mostly healed scrapes on her temple and cheek, which were still raw and pink, but it wasn't as if anyone was going to notice them. She grit her teeth and tugged at the sleeve of her dark-magenta-nearing-black uniform jacket.
indentindentThe light of the rising sun burned the tops of the evergreens as the adequately inconspicuous Bureau SUV sped along the wooded road. They were driving further away from civilization and deeper into what could only be called wilderness in comparison to the crowds and concrete in D.C, but it was barely foreign. The forests of Washington carried some sense of home in them, yet everything had an exotic, nearly aggressively verdant quality to it. After all, the States had always been brighter and louder in every aspect than the stoic stillness of Norway.
indentindentHaugen reached to turn on the radio, and some questionable remix of an already irritating song began pulsating through the speakers just as the phone in Alex's pocket buzzed with an incoming call.
indent"Kan du slå av radioen?" she urged, grateful for the excuse to do so, before accepting the call and pressing it to her ear without bothering to introduce herself — BSA operators tended to know exactly who they were contacting.
indent"I trust you're on your way to the Team Epsilon Facility, Supervisory Agent Iversen?" the silvery voice greeted, and Alex only hummed a rather noncommittal sound in response. The question had been rhetorical. "We've received reports of a class three supernatural in the Epsilon mission zone. Identified as Jake Wood, designated Target Bravo. The relevant files are being relayed to the Epsilon data center. Proceed with location and containment." The line fell silent, and Alex waited a few seconds longer to ensure the operator was done before hanging up the call and slipping the phone into the duffel bag resting against her thigh. An active target would give her an excuse to pass any bothersome introductions, jump right into action, and assess how the Epsilon Agents functioned as a team.
indentindentThe car turned off the paved road and onto what was clearly a private and scarcely used driveway, marked by the rumble of gravel beneath the tires, and the grouse which bolted out of the way and into the underbrush. The woods around them became scarcer, the Douglas firs and redcedars scattered, and the car's path was soon lined by a lawn that had somehow managed to dry even during the autumn in one of the wettest places in the entire country. A damp fog still hung above the layer of ferns and clung to the boughs lining the yard, where the bigger road's wider cut of asphalt hadn't yet allowed the sun to drive it away.
indentindentThe SUV's tires ground to a halt in front of a house that was all stone veneer, sharp lines, and contemporary design. Alex grabbed her duffel bag from the seat next to hers and pushed open the door to be greeted by a crisp morning, in which closing the aforementioned door sounded closer to a gunshot, and an irreverent shattering of some peace that never should have existed in the vicinity of a BSA Facility in the first place. The numbers blinking on the face of her watch told her it was 6:43am. At least Haugen had remembered she liked to arrive early.
indentindentShe hitched the strap of her bag further up her shoulder. It had barely any personal effects in it. Clothes, mostly. The driver's side window rolled down, and Alex trapped the sigh she felt coming into someplace deep in her chest.
indent"Haugen," she nodded, unable to keep herself from noticing the expectation and the subsequent disappointment on the agent's face as no further words followed.
indent"Take care, Iversen," he uttered the stiff — and deservedly curt — reply, which carried in it the weight of whatever he had hoped to say instead. "I heard about the team. And the demotion. I saw your arm. I feel pity for you." As the window rolled back up, Alex kept herself from grabbing the edge of the glass and offering some platitude that could only make things more strained than she already had. Then the tires of the SUV were groaning against the gravel again as the car jerked to movement and sped back down the driveway. He's better off forgetting you, Alex.

indentindentThe sound of the car faded into the distance, leaving Alex staring at the stone exterior of the building in which she would find the entrance to Team Epsilon's Facility. She had been offered files — the most invasive BSA's finest could get their hands on — on the team, but she had refused them. This — her — team's personal lives mattered little to her, unless they proved to impair the agents' ability to carry out their duties, and she would be willing to tolerate exactly none of that. She had, however, looked into the death of their previous supervisory agent. It had been a "workplace accident related to a foreign body, unspecified", which had resulted in "acute oxygen deprivation". For an agency that had no problem digging into the pasts and personal lives of its targets, employees, and anyone related to either of those, they had been surprisingly cagey about the details, but Alex hadn't had the interest to pry further. He was dead, and she had been demoted to take over for him.
indentindentA shift in the second floor window above the mahogany door had Alex's eyes riveting onto the pane of glass, where she swore she had seen a tall figure peering down at her. Did this team have people living in their cover house? An emerging frown tilted down the corner of her mouth as she moved beneath the eave to obscure herself from any further peeping. She would have to walk into the mansion whether this squatter liked it or not, so best get it over with.
indentindentAlex's fingers had only managed to brush the front door's zinc doorknob when a rapid series of indistinct noises erupted from inside the mansion. They were becoming clearer, louder, and she realized they were coming closer to the door in front of her. The gravel shifted beneath the soles of her boots as she backed away, clear from where the door would swing were it to be thrown open. She discreetly gauged the weight of her duffel bag by tugging at the strap running across her left shoulder. It was lighter than she would have preferred for purposes of knocking someone out, but it could still throw off an attacker.
indentindentHer free hand shifted to the service weapon at her hip, and she thumbed over the settings to confirm it was still set to stun, because she really did not wish to deal with the paperwork related to shooting someone before she had even stepped foot into the Facility, but she didn't yet pull the side arm out of its holster — even as the metal beneath her fingertips seemed to hum to life as it powered up. Thumping footsteps sounded from behind the door, and Alex adjusted her stance, bringing her feet further apart for balance.

[kitsune,]

✦.𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐇𝐔𝐄
────────────────
[ office romance #1 . mentions dom
feeling happy, relaxed . tagged open ]

Aurelia groaned softly as her phone started buzzing beneath her pillow, she blearily opened one eye and shut the alarm off, lying in the darkness for a moment longer before sitting up and reluctantly pulling herself out of bed. She had planned to go out for a run this morning before their new leader arrived. Eli was incredibly proud of how far she had come in her career at the BSA, she couldn't quite believe the fact that she had been chosen to be a member of Team Epsilon. Her promotion was only made sweeter by the fact that her boyfriend Dom had also been recruited into Epsilon. A soft smile graced her face as she tenderly stroked a hand over the fabric of the t-shirt she had worn to bed. It was one of Dom's that Eli had swiped the last time they had hung out in his room and it smelt like him still. After taking a short shower Eli pulled her hair up into a ponytail and got changed into her running gear. She threw on an oversized tee and her running leggings before putting her headphones on and turning on her workout playlist. She found it harder to run when not listening to music, it helped her keep a rhythm. She exited her room and headed towards the front of the facility, pausing a moment at Dom's door debating whether to ask him to come with her when she shrugged off the idea. The two of them were currently keeping their relationship a secret as they don't want to face any repercussions just because they happened to work together.

It was difficult trying to keep their relationship so secret as Eli absolutely adored Dom, she was so smitten with him that she often found it difficult to refrain from showing him any affection, she always seems to catch herself going to give him a hug and awkwardly transitioning it into a high five. She shook her head to herself with a chuckle. Being with him made it worth it though, and she was glad that them working together meant they were still able to spend a fair amount of time together. She opened the door to the facility and headed out towards the woodland surrounding their location. A good run would help her focus later and she wanted to be on top form to impress their new leader. Eli loved meeting new people and wanted their new member to feel as welcome as possible, however, the slight stress over wanting to do well had meant she'd been baking a fair amount recently. She had a basket of cookies that she would be taking in later and she hoped that their new leader would like them!

All the worries seemed to evaporate from Eli's head as she fell into the rhythm of her run. Truth Hurts by Lizzo was playing in her ears and she found herself singing along softly as she ran along the trail. Running was one of the times where Eli was happiest, she felt so carefree being out in the wilderness and it really helped her to center herself. She'd been running for about 15 minutes and was reaching the farthest part of the woodland when a strange sensation washed over her. She glanced around her, scanning the area for anything unusual but didn't see anything to cause her alarm. She shrugged and carried on humming along to her music, it was probably just her earlier worries lingering, she'd feel better if she carried on running. Aurelia turned her music up a little louder and increased her pace, perhaps she should go and knock for Dom when she got back, it would be nice to catch a brief moment with him over breakfast. A smile broke her face and she felt newly energised. She was going to do her best today.

word count = 651

[bailey.t136]

𝗷 . 𝗮 . 𝗸 . 𝗲 . ─
- target bravo. - woods a good ways from the city.
- crazed, tired, thirsty. - tags; n/a. - mentions; eli. - wc; 794
──────────────────────────────────

indentnew beginnings had always been difficult for jake wood, but the most difficult part about them for him was the fact that he almost never got a choice in them. "j. wood, you keep at it now. you'll get there." his dad had always reminded him that good things came to those who worked hard and if those later years of being on the washington police force had taught him any one thing, it was that no one ever knew everything. good decisions came from a team of skilled, trained, and dedicated people. figuring out how to navigate "new" would never be easy, but with a team it would be possible. he'd been navigating new for a while now before his position on the force, but never had he wanted to adjust back to a life of fending for himself or second-guessing his better judgment.

indentcoming to consciousness in a ditch outside the city limits two weeks previous had stripped him of that privilege. two puncture wounds to his neck and a hunger for death had stripped him of his dignity. now if he could only steady the thousands of red flags stirring in his mind before he created a monster of himself, maybe he could find his way back home. find a way to fix this. his muddied combat boots stepped carefully through the firey pine-needles of whatever forest he was in while he closed his tired eyes and breathed in deep. the air was clean and filled his lungs with new life, but the moistness from the night's humidity had made his clothes damp and uncomfortable. relief was what he craved.

indentcoming to terms with the fact that his senses had become overwhelmingly sensitive had been accomplished in the first few days after he'd been attacked. that same evening he'd stirred in the ditch, he'd killed a... man? someone... someone's husband, son, brother. he couldn't even place the face in his memory. why that didn't make him retch was beyond him at this point. the same craving for relief had bubbled up in his gut that night, and the lonely man stranded on the highway with a flat seemed the optimal choice. three days later, it had been a trucker stopped to rest for the night. the locks on the truck doors had been like popsicle sticks, their keeper the prize. on day seven, he'd scratched into his notepad that a woman had asked for help getting her canoe on her subaru. on day nine, another flat tire. today marked the fourteenth day since his cravings had begun and five days since his last feeding. a faint droning of bass tones through a runner's headphones carried over the wind and even the smell of her perspiration was enough to draw his eyes to a deep crimson.

indentlike a lone mountain lion stalking a lamb, jake found his senses guiding him through the unrecognizable fir trees. he was moving fast - faster than any human could. he was moving silently, aware of every step he took, every needle that stirred. as the distance between hunter and prey slowly waned, he could even begin to hear her very heart thrumming in its perfect rhythm. her tennis shoes padded at the dirt and gravel of the trail that was now coming into view - how he hadn't noticed it before, he didn't know. women went missing in forests everyday. all runners knew better than to wear their headphones while running alone. and who went out this far from the city? from his knowledge of washington, very few people lived out so many miles into the woods. she would hold him over for another few days, at least...

indentas the woman finally came into view, jake found himself suddenly nauseated. her swishing pony-tail as she ran, comfortable t-shirt obviously too big for her, and steady gait reminded him of his sister. her unaware singing voice, jostled by the exercise was familiar. his sister was his family, had her own family. surely this woman did too. but he'd been distracted, and now she was slowing. jake skirted behind the chapped trunk of a red cedar. from his position, he could practically feel the pounding of her heart spike for several moments as she checked herself. if he had one, he believed his own heart would be beating wildly in the anticipation of anything new. never once had a hunt had such an effect on him - not even for the few murders he'd tracked down within the city. but now, as her music unpaused and the volume increased, he found himself unable to hold back any longer. next track.

indent"i'm crying... 'cause i love you," seemed disgustingly appropriate of lizzo and the newborn gained ground.

[mtuan,]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄-𝐔𝐏 "𝐂𝐘𝐑𝐔𝐒" 𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄
❝ 𝘛𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘴 ❞
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tagged, none |oc, I feel like it's v predictable for this kid to be miffed and in the kitchen but oh well, 1,150 words

It is by no means daybreak by the time Cyrus Rhee finally decides to stir from under the covers, groaning softly under his breathe, muscles flexing against the sheets, as he turns his back from the growing light and runs a hand through his finally growing hair. There's a slight, unceremonious flop from under the bedsheets as the male mildly contemplates sleeping in today- shoving his head under the pillows like an indignant child hiding from the day's duties ahead. Though it was a wildly uncalled for and most definitely exaggerated reaction against his so-called teammates to be so... hesitant to be up in the morning, Cyrus couldn't help it. Not at all. Not when his uh- team mates were the type to either throw various questionable items at walls or skirt down the halls and tiptoe into the opposing gender's rooms (-looking at you, Aurelia 'n Domingo) at the most questionable times of day; butt crack of dawn or butt o'clock late into the night- pick your poison. Lieutenant Rhee's just happy he's able to at least acquire a good night's sleep, to be honest. But beyond their usual shenanigans, mornings also meant cooking for the group of rowdy post-teenager, so-called 'Team Epsilon'. A chore that Cyrus found himself dreading each day-- because who would look forward to feeding a bunch of loudmouths, amirite? It reminded him... of a mother, of sorts. A mother looking after her chicks, having to wait on them hand and foot (-- again, another exaggeration upon Cyrus' part) while they're still young and vulnerable to the harsh reality of this world. The only catch? These chicks never grew up. And once again in total hyperbolic fashion, as a result of these... circumstances, Cyrus had found himself in the tough position of cooking as healthily as possible-- you know, to avoid any health issues in the future. It did kind of become his responsibility the moment he had been deigned with the position of 'chef' in what the agents loosely could deem a household. And so boiled potatoes it was- whether mashed or left whole- or whatever the hell anyone else wanted the shape of the potatoes to be in. Boiled potatoes it was-- there used to be a more diverse array of cooking options but after that last incident? Lieutenant Rhee really couldn't trust his teammates with that in the slightest, not even in the most basic of tasks- apparently.

Tangential thoughts aside, however, there should be more pressing matters to attend to. Such as the new Team Epsilon captain being integrated in today. Cyrus vaguely hopes that whoever it'll be- at least possesses one more brain cell than the rest of the group collectively did- please just- someone with some sort of common sense... knock on wood.

Regardless, with the idea of a new face among the team, Cyrus makes it a point to hop out of bed, a beeline for the bathroom is where he's aiming for next. It doesn't take long for the man to be freshly showered and well groomed for the introduction, standing in front of his closet with a mildly perplexed look across his features. Full regalia? Like it should be? Something casual?

Though the Lieutenant's first instinct is definitely to make a grab for his uniform hanging among the racks of various other articles, his experience in the armed forces screaming for him to suit up- at least out of respect, somehow with the knowledge he's acquired from living with these "children" for some time now, there's just an itch in his bone that somehow, somehow he was going to make an absolute fool of himself dressed up in full gear like that. Ah yes- that probably one of the other guys was going to show up in his boxers in front of their new commanding officer-- hell, Cyrus would not be surprised if someone even showed up fully naked and ready to party. (Taking a deep breath, the Korean finds himself exhaling harshly and mildly fighting the urge to simply shove everyone into a closet- again, lovebirds separated, and simply pretend they never existed for the next couple hours.)

And again, somehow Cyrus Rhee finds himself dressed modestly at best; he's practically moving like a robot now, routine ingrained like muscle memory. He's dressed in all black, plain, with his inner shirt tucked neatly into the pants hanging from his hips, a gold buckled, black belt to accent. He slips into some oversized (-over... length??) black coat as well to fight the chills of the morning air. Though he's not usually one for accessories when dressing formal, somehow Cyrus chooses to slip a couple in- to 'soften' up the look, right? Two thin bands on his left hand- middle finger and ring finger to be specific, and some thicker band slipped onto his right pointer. He's also got some dangly piece in his right lobe and a stud in his left. And of course, his dog tag around his neck, slipped under his shirt for good measure-- too much? Probably.

And perhaps he was now really overthinking things when he makes a move for some concealer on the table, dabbing product gently against the highest point of his left cheekbone, where a red and black heartbeat line tattoo sat. Definitely not the best decision he's ever made prior to joining the army, but a permanent one, no less. It's no surprise for Cyrus to cover up his ink, he's pretty sure no one on the team has ever even seen the small detail before; but for whatever reason, the former military personnel had thought about keeping it uncovered (-unveiled?) for some time now- just as he'd both grown out his hair and dyed it a honey amber since then.

Overthinking aside and down into the kitchen, Cyrus finds himself rummaging through the refrigerator for food, pan already on gradually heated stove. Potatoes- of course. And... maybe some sausage? Rhee's pretty sure at least one of his team mates would appreciate the gesture- hopefully. (If not, mayhaps someone was gonna end up being yelled at, but no one needed to talk about that-). Oh god- if he was going to add something nice, only to be lamented on once more- Cyrus swears he's probably going to end up pulling his own hair out and then smacking someone with the hot frying pan-.

Anyway-- by the time Cyrus was done and washing the utensils in the kitchen, there's a hefty (to say the least) plate of sausage potato hash sitting at the table, some slightly hazardous tower of french toast and maple syrup and various other plates set out as well.

Hopefully there'd be enough food- maybe enough for the new captain as well. He thinks, as Cyrus wipes his hands against the kitchen towel and grabs himself a bowl. (Who said he was gonna wait for the others?).

[ajax.]

.

𝐃𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 !!!
━━━━━━━━━━

'the malefactor'
i. 26 y/o ii. cismale
iii. bisexual
iv. outside
v. cocky, curious, feral
vi. alex, jake,(men. dom, cy, eli)
vii. 1,289 words

━━━━━━━━━━

left, right, right, straight, then home free...

"This is getting too easy," the blond chuckled as he looked around behind him. his steps her quick and well thought out, as if he had run this course a thousand times.

well, he kind of has.

duncan twisted midstride as he turned a corner, making sure he wasn't being pursued. He wouldn't be surprised if Dom was on his tail, the man was down two tallies on their competition. He had to keep the guy on his toes after all.

a small chuckle curled his lips into a coy smile, no one yet. he was betting on getting out of here with no confrontation, and it looked like it was leading that way. He brushed up against a wall, and he almost laughed aloud, these guys had no idea. maybe a couple were up for their morning coffee, but they still never bet on his daring escape attempts.

he was getting to be more of a visitor, and not really a prisoner like before when he was young. they had grown too accustomed to him. He puffed out his chest in pride, hair grasping at the air as he rushed past doors. He took a glance at the kitchen before he soared upstairs. he contemplated poking in to bother cyrus, but the smell of the likely actually tasty food made him instead huff in indignation before continuing on.

yeah, of course the day he leaves the guy cooks something slightly better than boiled potatoes.

there was just one more stretch of hall to run then he could breathe fresh air again. he felt like his lungs were going to burst from his chest at the thought of smelling trees once more. his grey eyes lit up but quickly grew dim again.

was that?

who the hell is up at this hour... outside?

his boots skidded on the floor, sending a harsh squeak radiating off the walls. the malefactor cringed, shaking his head at the pitch, tempted to even paw at his ears. he instead just growled as he saw the silhouette on the other side of the door through the small window.

"well, might as well have some fun with this..." he sniggered, stalking up to the door as he watched the shadow deek out of the way. okay, a trained personnel, not just some girlscouts with cookies, they knew he was here.

but they wouldn't keep him here.

he didn't wait another second, the person on the other side was surely getting ready for him to come through the door. instead, he bolted forward, through the door in a brief moment, ducking to the side in case the figure had a gun or taser. he didn't need that on his morning to-do.

he spun around, backing up a couple more steps, his pace growing silent as a cackle left him; almost a bark. his hands found his hair as he combed through it, trying to put a face to the shadow. she had dark hair, and while the wolf couldn't put a name to her scent, she definitely was focused on him. he took a few more steps back to keep out of her range, boots shifting with the gravel.

he shot her a grin, then a quick wink and twitch of an eyebrow. "aye sweetheart...' his gruff voice trailed off as he held up a hand to signal she wait. he closed his eyes, wafting the air toward his nose, trying to get a good feel for the fresh breeze that flew from the north. he then shook his head and brought his attention back to the woman. "you look feisty."

so this was the new leader of epsilon. duncan let a rush of air leave him in amusement, well she definitely had a grip on that weapon... but was she actually going to use it? he shifted as he heard a clatter from behind the now-closed door and stiffened. great, was someone following him now?

damnit, it was probably dom. he wasn't gonna even risk losing his lead.

"I'd love to stop and chat, maybe buy you a coffee... but I've got to run my dear." he swept into a low, dramatic bow while continuing to back away; the same cocky smile painted on his face.

he then turned and darted off. He didn't need to give anyone any more time to get caught up. he was not going back in that pathetic cell like a mutt in need of an owner. his feet thumped against the ground as it turned from gravel and concrete to earth and pine needles. the air sent a rush through him, and his pupils dilated, he was almost far away enough that he could shift... he needed to stretch his legs.

he found his usual trail, he didn't need to make another one, why waste your time? he shrugged to himself, trying to figure out if he was going back to the cabin or not while running in an aimless direction.

a coffee shop, yeah that would be a good idea... he had a spare couple bucks hidden in his boot to help hide his scent. his shoulder clipped a tree, and he hissed but paid little mind to it.

something had caught his attention, a strange scent. he stopped short, eyes narrowing as he raised his head to get a better whiff. he recognized the trail that was quickly growing cool that he determined was eli, he didn't necessarily want to run into her. sure, she'd let him go like she always did, bless her... (unlike her damned bf) but he didn't want her getting in trouble. but there was something else there too, a little fainter.

he ducked around a tree, hands touching the rough bark for barely a moment before he zigzagged to another tree. he could see eli not far from him, but...

another person?

they had hidden behind another tree not far ahead, and they reeked. duncan wasn't sure what he'd call it but it wasn't nice. he wrinkled his nose, creeping forward. finally, he recognized them as a bloodsucker, a man not much younger than himself, maybe a few years.

and they were after eli. no that wouldn't do.

making sure to remain as silent as he could, the wind in his own favour as well as the vamp. duncan rested a hand on the guy's shoulder. "i wouldn't touch her if I were you." he said quietly, a ghost of a growl on his lips as he turned the man to face him. not harshly, but not aa gentle angle kiss either.

he looked crazed, almost in a daze with his eyes dilated dramatically. duncan let out a low whistle, careful not to alert the jogger going by. the malefactor blinked, but kept a firm grip on the guy's shoulder and shot him his best smile, a challenge dancing in his eyes.

he had heard about a newborn that had recently gotten on the radar of epsilon. this must be him, he was... unhinged. duncan chuckled to himself, he found the newborn.

"you should do better to pick your vics, that one there is a bad idea brochacho, and her boyfriend would have your head." he laughed now, watching as eli trotted along, oblivious with her headphones in. lizzo, a good choice... but unrelated. he let out another huff, eyes looking down at the slightly shorter man. "you're new to this aren't you bud?" a simple question, but it probably came across as aggressive.

duncan needed to get better at his social skills, but he didn't really care to make an advance on that lesson right this second. he wanted to learn about this newborn.