─ birds are silent for the night ─ closed

[herald.]

✸X𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐎X𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐎♠♠━━━━━𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 #𝟮━━━━━
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[ location his room; facility halls; outside ] [ tags duncan, alex ] [ mentions eli (<3), cyrus ] [ word count 3,403 ]


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♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Coming into consciousness was always a surprisingly routine affair for one Domingo Serrano, despite what his mannerisms and attitude would have one believe. He might've seemed like the type to try to sleep in as much as possible and be an unapproachable grouch before his morning cup of coffee, but his internal clock had been waking him up at around six in the morning every day without fail for years now, and the reliability of his body to get him up consistently was something that the agent never took for granted. (As for the other stereotype, one could argue he was an unapproachable grouch with the coffee or without.) Today was no different, brown eyes fluttering open without the need of an alarm as Dom let out a sleepy groan and stretched his body out underneath the covers to get rid of the discomfort in his muscles. He gave himself a few moments to wake up properly as he gazed at the simple digital clock on his night table, the bright green 6:02 glaring back at him the only source of light in room. If there was one thing that sucked about the Facility being underground, it was the lack of windows and natural sunlight; he would kill to be able to wake up to the soft light of the sun's rays gently filtering in through the curtains, though he had long grown accustomed to waking up without the sun's help.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Unfortunately, with consciousness came memory, and Dom released a much longer, more pained groan as he was hit with the reminder of what the day's events were to be. Right. Today was the official induction of Team Epsilon's new supervisory agent (Dios, he always hated that title, it made them sound like a bunch of kids that had to be babysat) to the unit and his feelings of dread around the occasion had not been dispelled in the slightest with a good night's rest. He didn't know much about this Alex guy besides his name, having intentionally zoned out of the briefing they previously had been given, but he didn't need to know much more than that to have low expectations. If he recalled correctly, he had instead spent most of that meeting switching between counting the wrinkles on the face of the man from BSA headquarters giving them the overview, and staring at Eli without trying to make it too obvious.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Oh, Eli. Aurelia. His alma y cielita. Even just the conjured image of his girlfriend and her positive attitude was enough to get him to stop sulking enough to get out of bed, his lips twitching helplessly up into a smile. As much as he wished that she were there in person, he could easily picture her voice in his head, chastising him for being so gloomy and willing him to give their new leader a chance before condemning him. And while that second point would be a tall order, Imaginary Eli was right about the first: it was time to stop moping and get started with his day.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Brooding aside, Dom's morning routine was as average as ever. He slipped on a new pair of briefs and some comfortable sweatpants, put in his earbuds, hit "play" on his phone, and began his morning workout like usual. His morning exercise tended to be pretty light compared to the workouts he would do on gym days in the actual training center, mostly consisting of stretches, basics like push-ups and crutches, and some shadow-boxing to top it off. Lately his new normal had begun to include some flexibility stretches and yoga as well, at Eli's suggestion. They had been helping each other work on their less proficient areas of physical fitness: Eli her muscular strength and Dom, as evidenced by the additions to his routine, his flexibility. It wasn't exactly like they were lacking heavily in either area, but it felt nice to be closer to his girlfriend by having her offer him tips based on her years of superior experience and to offer his own advice in turn. Besides - it gave them an excuse to be together in the training center, under the guise of "working on each other's weak points", and they would take all the excuses they could get to spend time together without rousing suspicion.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠All the while, the music blaring in his ears helped him keep focus and keep track of the time passing. His workout playlist consisted mostly of high-energy songs and fast-paced rap to keep himself motivated, with the only real curveball being when "I'll Make a Man Out of You" came onto the shuffle. Shamelessly, Dom could admit he had added the musical number sometime after watching Mulan during a Disney movie marathon with Eli about a month back. It was a good song, what more was there to say? And as the opening notes began to play, the fond memories associated with the track meant that the Hispanic agent found himself unable to refrain from letting his mind wander to the occupant of his heart.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Today he found himself thinking of their relationship even more than usual, though not for the reasons he would have liked. Normally when Eli occupied his every thought (though when didn't she) during the day, it was because he was thinking of what he could do to make her happy for their next impromptu date night, or looking back fondly on something she had done recently. Currently his thoughts were plagued with an undercurrent of worry that remained even as he tried to relax his mind by working out his body. Team Epsilon was really, finally getting their new supervisory agent assigned, and while Dom couldn't care less about whatever big league hotshot they were sending down, he did care about the fact that he and Eli's relationship was technically fraternization, and that they might not take too kindly to that.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Honestly, one would think that hiding their relationship would get easier over time, but if anything it just continued to get harder. They'd become so comfortable around each other that it just felt so easy to forget other people were in the room, and at this point it was like second nature to be having some kind of physical contact what with all the cuddling they did. In the past week alone he could remember a few occasions where he had accidentally almost called her cariña or corazón out loud, and he had had to self-correct at the last second to say chica instead. Which still wasn't great, but at least it didn't have the immediately romantic implications of the other two. And he didn't even want to get started on the high-fives. Dear lord, the awkward high-fives.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Once the showtune had wrapped up it was only a couple more songs until he had finished everything on his set list for that morning, and Dom took out his earphones as relished the slight soreness of his body and waited for his heartrate to return to normal. A good session never failed to make him feel accomplished, which was precisely why he always started his day with them. With phase one of his morning routine completed, he shoved his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants and shuffled over to his desk to begin phase two. Sitting atop the wooden surface was a coffee maker, pristine and well-kept, but it was the treasure below that Dom was after. Opening up one of the lower drawers, the agent couldn't help but to hum contentedly at the sight within. Inside was a bag containing a custom blend of organic coffee beans harvested from Columbia, Guatemala, and Sumatra, and frankly? It tasted like heaven on earth. For the life of him, Dom couldn't believe he had had to fight so hard to get the practical liquid gold incorporated into the budget. Compared to that tasteless, aromaless, disgusting instant stuff they had to make do with before, he whole-heartedly believed that this had been a worthwhile investment. If anyone had anything to say about it to him, he could always bring back out the PowerPoint.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠As he waited for the water to heat up so he could make his normal morning cup, he set about looking something to wear for when he exited his room. It's not like he hadn't gone shirtless around the facility before, but, well. As much as he appreciated Eli's gaze on him, he wasn't so sure that their new captain would. And, besides, even he could agree that not being half-naked would be the bare minimum of manners for welcoming someone to their team. Rummaging around his closet for a shirt, he grabbed the first one he found, a black tank top, and slipped it over his head. He had noticed a subtle lack of T-shirts he owned while looking, but rather than the observation annoying him, it caused an amused smile to sprout on his lips. Eli had taken to the habit of "borrowing" some of his clothing recently, which he found absolutely adorable beyond words. Seeing her in one of his shirts always made his heart skip a beat, so as far as Dom was concerned, she could raid his whole wardrobe for all he cared.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠He set about getting on some socks and lacing up his boots, tying the last knot just as the the machine beeped to let him know it was ready. With phase two finished, Dom fixed himself a cup of superior coffee and poured it into a thermos, taking his first blissful sip of the hot liquid as he stepped outside his room and into the common area. It was still pretty early in the morning, but most of the team was likely either already awake or in the process of getting themselves out of bed. Having this sort of job came hand in hand with being an early riser, after all. One of the earliest birds was of course Rhee, who Dom could hear clattering about the canteen the same he did every morning. Cyrus made them breakfast every morning without fail, which also meant getting up before the rest of the squad to have food ready by the time they all came stumbling into the kitchen. Luckily, though, it seemed that no one else was around at the moment besides the ex-military man in the kitchen, so Dom took one more precursory glance around the vicinity before carefully making his way to Eli's door.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Wasting no time, Dom delivered a series of knocks against the wood; two quick taps with the back of his knuckles in quick succession, a pause, and then three slower knocks after. He waited for a few moments, after which his shoulders sagged a bit when he got no response. He and Eli had developed a code of sorts, in terms of patterns for knocking on each other's doors to let the other know it was them. It was hard trying to be lowkey when everyone's rooms were right next to each other and led out into the same common area, so this was their solution. Although it wasn't the most ideal workaround, Dom had to admit he found something romantic in it; it was like having a personal language, a song just for the two of them made up entirely of percussion. Two sixteenth notes, a whole rest, three quarter notes. But still, any duet required a partner, and when a few more seconds passed and there was still no answering knock on the other side, Dom cut his losses and acquiesced that Eli probably wasn't in her room. She was most likely on a morning run, if she wasn't there to meet him for breakfast. His first guess would've been baking in the kitchen, but he already knew that she had baked cookies for their new leader the night before, which ruled out that possibility. (Well. Mostly. He knew that his girlfriend liked to stress bake at times, and he wouldn't put it past her to make even more pastries to try to calm her nerves. The other giveaway was the distinct lack of angry yelling from the kitchen, which would surely be happening if Cyrus had found someone in there while he was trying to cook. Or in general.)

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Stepping out into the center area of the common room, Dom held off on going to get himself a plate of breakfast and opted to mentally plan out his day's itinerary in detail instead. He and Cyrus alone in a room together before the sun was completely up generally spelled a recipe for disaster, so he'd rather wait until at least one or two of his teammates were up and save them all the trouble. Last time he had criticized Rhee's cooking and the man had fired back with retort about his overpriced bean water, the two had nearly been at each other's throats with the cutlery. Today was going to be eventful enough without a repeat incident. Although to his great surprise, Dom didn't even think his normal complaints would apply today, because he could actually smell this morning's meal all the way from the common area. Was that... sausage? And French vanilla? Intrigued, he moved further into the room to try to get a peek into the kitchen, but a flash of movement in the corner of his eye gave him pause. He swiveled his head to the source, noting that it had come from the hallway containing the stairs that led up into the cover mansion.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Someone going upstairs at this hour? More importantly, someone ignoring Cyrus cooking something with actual flavor? Dom's features fell into a contemplative frown as he considered the likelihood of that. He brought his thermos up to his lips, taking a sip as his eyes scanned the oh-so-familiar room. His gaze landed on the large whiteboard that they had leaned up against one of the walls; it was a relic of the past, formerly used in the meeting room before it had gotten an upgrade and was properly outfitted with some more fancy tech, including a touchscreen digital board that rendered the old-fashioned white board useless. Still, they kept it around in the common room as a multipurpose notice boards of sorts. It was used to keep track of memos and silly bets, make passive aggressive suggestions for dinner (which were tragically never used), and there was a section with a great many angry scribbles from when people had tried to write over each other to make suggestions for a movie night. Where his sight was naturally drawn, though, was the top left hand corner, which had been separated from the rest of the board with bright red marker. Inside the sectioned off area was a simple T-chart with a bunch of tallies, one set beneath a drawing of a sniper's crosshairs, and the other set beneath what could be considered a very crudely doodled approximation of a wolf's head. Though they were seemingly even at first glance, the side with the wolf's head had exactly two more tally marks than the side with the crosshairs upon closer inspection.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Dom's frown deepened, to the point where a crease appeared between his brows. He could feel the gears slowly turning in his own head, frustratingly snail-paced for his liking, and he took another sip of coffee in hopes that the magical liquid would help grease the wheels of his brain to turn faster. He took another scan of the room in the meantime, slowly and carefully, and attuned to his other senses as well. There was the feeling of the warm thermos in his hand, the delicious smell of breakfast wafting in from the kitchen, the sound of-

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠ Ssssskkkkrrrrrrk! Boots skidding against the floor. It definitely sounded like someone coming to a sudden stop against the surface of the floors upstairs, which he wouldn't have even noticed if he hadn't been focusing so hard on his other senses. But... wait. Upstairs? ...Running?

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠He glanced at the board.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Back to the hallway leading to the stairs.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Back to the board.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠... It clicked.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Dom tore down the hallway like he had just been lit on fire.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠"WALKER!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs, taking the stairs two at a time and slamming open the door at the top of the landing, not even slowing down as he barreled through. "YOU BETTER GET BACK HERE BEFORE I MAKE THIS WORSE FOR YOU!" he continued shouting, footsteps thudding loudly against the surface they were pounding against. The werewolf escapee had enhanced hearing, of course, but that didn't mean yelling at him didn't feel good. Besides, Dom could care less about his sensitive ears right now; in fact, he hoped that he gave the man at least a little cause for suffering with his volume for the stunt he was pulling.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠He skidded around the corner leading to the foyer of the mansion, the last stretch before the front door, and almost collided head-on with a lamp in his haste. Still, for all his efforts, all he got was the image of that front door having just shut in his peripheral, with no werewolf in sight. Growling in annoyance, Dom wasted no time in sprinting the last stretch and ripping open the front door with one hand, the other primed and ready to throw the only tool on his person: his coffee thermos.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠So. Here was the thing. Dom was a proud person, when he had occasion to be. He was proud of the people he loved doing great things, like Eli breaking a training record or his little brother making it into a top college. He was proud of his team every time they completed a mission, even when they could annoy the daylights out of him. And yes, he was proud of the skills that had gotten him promoted to Team Epsilon in the first place, the most notable being his near superhuman hand-eye coordination and precise aim. The funny thing with aim, though, was it needed a target. And Dom was only expecting one target when he yanked open that door.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Without a second thought, the brunet launched his thermos at the first thing he saw outside the mansion, knowing that with Duncan's headstart, if he didn't nail him now then he would lose him for sure. In good news, his reputable aim held up and he made the shot, nailing his target right in the shoulder. In much worse news, the target was not Duncan. And in the worst news of all, said cocky jerk, who had been hidden several paces behind the person Dom had just struck, immediately took off dashing into the woods with unnatural speed. No way Dom could catch up to him now. He would have to update the tally to three after all.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Duncan may have been the werewolf, but the animalistic sound of pure, absolute frustration that Dom let out could probably have fooled someone less keen. Taking the time to collect himself, for several moments the agent did nothing but mutter under his breath in rapid-fire Spanish. At length. After around the third repetition of "ese perro estúpido, molesto, sucio, tonto-" he finally cut himself off, automatically leveling a glare at the person beside him as he finally acknowledged their presence. Taking in their appearance, his expression shifted from a residual glower of irritation to eyes narrowed in suspicion as he straightened himself up and crossed his arms across his tank-top clad chest.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠The person was a seemingly athletic woman carrying a duffel bag, but more notably dressed in the unmistakable deep magenta of the BSA's uniform. So, not a civilian, and unfortunately authorized to be there, which meant Dom couldn't yell at her to get off of the private property like a vindicated old man chasing kids off his lawn. Running through the shortlist of possible identities she could have, Dom settled on one of the more likely options, and his face scrunched up into a sneer. Suddenly, he felt a lot less apologetic in regard to the unwarranted throwing of coffee thermoses. "Seriously?" he asked rhetorically, his voice taking on a clearly disdainful quality. "Who are you supposed to be, the welcoming committee? They really wanna go the whole nine yards and roll out the red carpet for this new captain guy, huh?"

[kitsune,]

✦.𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐇𝐔𝐄
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[ office romance #1 . mentions dom, cyrus, joel
feeling confident, nostalgic, concerned . tagged dom, alex ]

After the brief moment of worry that Eli had experienced in the woods, she was actually feeling pretty relaxed. After no problems had presented themselves she had shrugged the uneasiness off as just nerves and carried on with her run. The dulcet tones of Lizzo were still carrying her along on her run and the endorphins were helping her feel more confident about meeting their new leader today. She glimpsed at her watch quickly, if she got a move on, she’d be able to grab a couple of private moments with Dom before they had to slip into their work mode. Without her even thinking about it a small smile formed at the corner of her mouth, she couldn’t help it. She was totally head over heels for him and no matter how hard she tried, he always occupied her thoughts in some form or another. A quick scan of the trees surrounding her told her that she wasn’t too far from the facility now. She wondered whether Cyrus had started on breakfast yet this morning and whether anyone had been unfortunate enough to be within range of his spatula of terror. She chuckled to herself, sure, Team Epsilon could be a bit dysfunctional at times but they were her family. She would do anything for each and every one of them, whether they wanted her to or not.

Having been lost in thought, Aurelia had neglected to scan the uneven terrain around her and with a jolt she suddenly found herself sprawled out on the forest floor. She blinked in surprise, tentatively flexing her hands and rolling her ankles to check for any injuries. There was a slight twinge in her left ankle and she cursed quietly to herself. That would teach her for daydreaming. She stood up shakily and put weight on her ankle. Luckily, it didn’t seem that she’d done any lasting damage, she’d probably just caught it funny as she landed. Oh well, no harm no foul! She took the rest of her journey as a brisk walk as opposed to running, she’d make sure to visit Joel after breakfast and ask him to take a look at her ankle just in case. It was probably better to be safe rather than sorry. A short succession of drumming reverberated around the woods and Eli looked around curiously. It had sounded suspiciously like one of her and Dom’s secret knocks, but she knew he wouldn’t be out here yet, not before his breakfast! A flare of scarlet caught her eye and she spotted the source of the noise. An Acorn woodpecker was sitting quite contentedly in the higher branches of a Douglas fir. Aurelia chuckled to herself and saluted the little bird. It seemed her life was becoming so firmly intertwined with Dom’s that she even mistook woodpeckers for him.

She remembered the first time they had met like it was yesterday. Eli had been a new recruit to the BSA and due to her skills with knives was pretty quickly placed into a class specialising in weapon handling. She had been so nervous her first day and Dom had been the first person she had set eyes on when she’d walked in. It was all over for her from that moment, she knew it was cliche and gross to most people but she had known he was the one for her the moment she had laid her eyes on him. Everything about him just made her feel safe. They had been set off on their first activity as a team which had been sparring and by some stroke of luck, Eli had been partnered up with Dom. She had stood in front of him nervously and had rather half-heartedly aimed a hit at him when he’d told her not to hold back. She didn’t think either of them had expected her to hit him quite as hard as she had following that. One minute he was standing in front of her, the next he was looking up at her from the mat with a stunned expression. Eli had immediately gushed out an apology, her eyes tearing up at the prospect of already ruining her chances with the man before she’d gotten to know him but to her surprise he had simply stood and laughed before engaging her in one of the more technically difficult sparring matches she’d been in.

From there, the two of them had ended up spending more and more time together and before they knew it, they were both in deep. She remembered calling her father to debrief about her time there and how he had instantly known she’d met someone. The two of them had taken their time to make things official and label it, but once they had they fell into an effortless groove. Eli knew that he’d always have her back and she would always have his no matter what. The only drawback to their relationship was the fact that technically by BSA standards, they were breaking the rules. She sighed, it was tough keeping things a secret, she was an incredibly tactile person and was always wanting to be near him but that would only complicate things.

She had been considering the best excuse to spend some more time with him when she exited onto the trail which led up to the facility. She could see Dom stood at the door and her heart fluttered, he looked incredibly appealing this morning, her eyes skimming over his muscular arms, it was enough to drive a girl to distraction! ”Good morning my…” she trailed off as she noticed the woman stood in front of him, her outfit making her instantly recognisable as a BSA agent and not one that Eli knew. ”...My good friend Agent Serrano!” She took in the scene in front of her and noticed Dom’s slightly more aggressive stance and the thermos which was on the floor not far away from the new agent and how she was holding her shoulder. Uh-oh... looked like she’d been caught in some kind of crossfire from her hot-headed boyfriend. She walked a bit quicker toward the two, limping very slightly on her bad ankle and put a calming hand on Dom’s arm as she turned to the newcomer. Upon taking in the air of authority surrounding the woman, Aurelia put two and two together and she smiled at the woman genuinely ”It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Agent Aurelia Donahue, I assume that you’re the new leader of Team Epsilon?” she held out a hand and gave Dom a meaningful look. She only hoped that she’d been quick enough to carry out any damage control.

word count = 1135

[slaughter beach, dog]

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

LOCATION; outside Team Epsilon Facility, Washington ─ TAGGING; Duncan, Dom, Eli, Ken ─ MENTIONED; Jake ─ WC; 1,786

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█ ██║▌

The squeal of rubber on hardwood pierced through the mahogany door, albeit muffled once it reached Alex's ears, which were beginning to redden in the brisk air outside. Whomever had been running towards the door had stopped, and Alex briefly considered going and opening the door herself, but the light in the frosted window pane shifted, rooting her where she had been standing. A second later, the door swung open hard enough to make the hinges complain, and a figure bolted through, swerving deftly to the side as if they had been expecting her as much as she had been expecting them. Alex tugged on her sidearm to tame whatever beast the team had let loose with a healthy dose of electricity, but froze before the barrel was halfway out of its holster. A nauseous wave crawled up the back of her neck. What faced her was a tall man with a swath of flopping blonde hair that pushed the boundaries of appropriateness. Her sidearm dropped back into its holster with a soft thump, but she didn't move her hand away, leaving her fingers trembling against the humming metal.
indentindentAlex had heard of specters and the undead. She had dealt with them. But no amount of BSA training could have prepared her to face a revenant of her own. Much less, how someone with no grave in this world could have returned to torment her and demand reparations for the fate that had befallen him under her watch. Her nausea turned into stifling summer air, which arrested her lungs and forcefully dragged her somewhere else. The mission briefing. Haynes flashing her that delinquent smirk of his, which dug a boyish dimple into his cheek, before he planted a black helmet over his head and rapped its matte surface with his knuckles for good measure. She had never even thought about returning that smile. A strip of red light shining on the soldiers in the gut of a transport vehicle. A scatter of pigeons on the blue sky above. The rifle in her gloved hands. The material breathed poorly. Living ribbons of darkness. Sailing lights. The concrete beneath her cheek.
indentindentA burst of laughter, like something from the throat of a dog, brought Alex back to the gravel-coated yard of the cover house. Her vision cleared to see eyes that were nearly white instead of blue peering back at her. It wasn't Haynes, although the way he ran his fingers through his hair probably could have fooled that agent's own mother into thinking her son had risen from the grave, wherever his body had ended up. The death of Team Sigma had been impossible to confirm, but Alex had long since decided they were dead, along with the declaration they were presumed killed in action and the lies they had fed to the families. Standard protocol. The chance they had been transported into the void of distant space was far too high, and even if that weren't the case and they hadn't died, they would never be returning.
indentindentAlex balled her hands into white-knuckled fists to stop the shaking, but when she made a move to retrieve her weapon and drag this malefactor back into the Facility, she found that she couldn't. All she could do was frown as he winked and spoke words that could have been coming out of Haynes' mouth. He hadn't dared call her sweetheart after she had been promoted to a position above him in Team Sigma, but the mischievous grins hadn't gone anywhere. The parting words and dramatic bow prompted Alex to open her mouth, but she snapped it shut again when no words came out.
indentindentThe immobilizing stiffness in her limbs had only begun to wane when another set of thundering footsteps followed by indistinct shouting sounded from inside the house. She whirled around to face the second comer, but it was too late to dodge whatever the man in a black tank top had appropriated as a projectile. It collided with her shoulder to the sound of metal meeting metal with only cloth in between, before bursting open and spilling what smelled strongly of coffee along her sleeve and the front of her jacket. The pieces of the container clattered down onto the gravel by her feet. Stunned, Alex glanced down at what turned out to be a thermos, then bent her neck to take in the damage done to her clothing. Her duffel bag was soaked, and the reek of coffee was quickly becoming irritating. It was dripping down her prosthesis, and she flicked the droplets from her fingers in a move that was more forceful than would have been necessary. Finally, she glanced back to where the malefactor had been standing, only to find out he had bolted and disappeared into the vast woods surrounding the Facility.
indentindentAlex leveled what had developed into a frigid stare at the man in the tank top. Once he was done with his litany of words, which — for his sake — she could only hope had been aimed at the malefactor, he returned her stare with a glare of his own. The pure insolence of it could have been nearly impressive, but it quickly became clear that he had no idea who he had mere moments ago assaulted with a coffee thermos of all things. The sneer rising to his lips sent Alex gritting her teeth, and although she was doing an admirable job of maintaining the composure of a supervisory agent, the words that followed nearly managed to waver it. Guy. The new leader of Team Epsilon wasn't a man and she most certainly wasn't going to demean herself by laying a carpet at the feet of any man.
indentindentShe was about to tell the man to go dig his career a deep grave in the backyard, but she was cut off by a voice so cheery it killed the hostile words in her throat. Agent Serrano. Alex filed the name away for later use. The short woman didn't hesitate to lay his hands on her colleague in a move that had the clear intentions of being placatory, but it was her genuine smile and the polite greeting she offered that earned Alex's interest in favor of tearing into this Serrano. The knowledge that at least one of this team's members had the capacity to pay attention in a briefing allayed some of the anger she had been preparing to release on the offending agent.
indentindentAgent Donahue offered her hand and Alex took it, giving it a firm shake in a gesture that was more adherence to protocol than any display of affability.
indent"Supervisory Agent Iversen," she answered, but having not forgotten the coffee still dripping from her jacket, she returned her eyes to Serrano.
indent"Agent Serrano, I highly recommend you either spend your day chasing down that malefactor on foot, or clip back inside and write a detailed incident report on how exactly you allowed him to escape, before I charge you with assaulting a superior officer," she posed in a voice that was steady and commanding in spite of the hit her image had taken from the coffee stains seeping into her clothes.
indentindentShe resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose in exasperation when her mind took the opportunity to remind her of the fact that, based on the figure she had seen in the window earlier, this team most likely had someone living in their cover house. Donahue seemed to be the more competent of the two, so after giving her coffee-soaked watch a glance, Alex turned back to her to relay the orders that were more time-sensitive.
indent"There will be a target briefing in the Facility meeting room at 7:30, which requires the presence of the entire team. Pull the emergency alarm if you have to." Without any further words, she brushed past the pair and into the house, allowing the door to thud shut in her wake. She had a vagrant to hunt down. Well, to lay down some ground rules before any potential hunting or evicting. Even the infamously stony Agent Iversen would be reluctant to send someone out into the world and potentially create what would be another malefactor for them to hunt down, but she wasn't going to let someone ruin the Facility's cover just because no one from the team had thought to brief this drifter.
indentindentOnce clear of the hallway, Alex dumped her ruined bag by the wall and began zipping open her jacket. A cursory glance of the first floor failed to produce any signs of a supernatural, but she hadn't expected any. She assumed that whomever she had seen a glimpse of in that second floor window hadn't been inclined to dash down the steps once the commotion had erupted right outside the door. Finding the flight of stairs that led to the upper floor wasn't much of a challenge, and she began climbing them whilst shrugging out of her ruined jacket. She left the piece of clothing on the railing only to discover the left sleeve of her white turtleneck had received its share of the damage, which meant rolling up her sleeves as much as she would have preferred not to. Being stripped of her jacket meant the holster at her hip had been left in starkly plain view, which may have been sufficient intimidation for things to remain civil, but showing up with coffee stains on her sleeve wasn't exactly Alex's style.
indentindentShe gauged the layout of the second floor with her eyes before landing on the window she judged to be situated above the front door. A trek across the room and a glimpse outside showed a view of the driveway, which meant she had been right, but there were still no signs of a presence to be found. Instead of immediately resorting to clearing each room individually, since there seemed to be quite a lavish number of them, she opted to stand her ground and hope the resident wouldn't be of the skittish or fearfully aggressive types.
indent"It would be far more convenient if you came to me instead of making me check each room," she spoke bluntly to the empty hallway. If their vagrant truly was of the supernatural kind as she had assumed, it wouldn't take much more than that to hear her from across the floor.
indentindentAlex crossed her arms over chest, but kept her back to the window and the wall behind her. She would berate herself later for dropping her guard before and letting whatever had come over her to freeze her in place, but for now, she would make sure it didn't happen again.

[bailey.t136]

𝗷 . 𝗮 . 𝗸 . 𝗲 . ─
- target bravo. - woods, not too far from the epipen base.
- crazed, anGERY, defensive, thirsty. - tags; duncan. - mentions; eli, duncan. - wc; 605
──────────────────────────────────

indent he'd been too focused on her. so focused, he'd missed the wet-dog smell that now assaulted his senses and overwhelmed his ability to react. so focused, he'd let a blond-haired stranger get a hold of his shoulder and hiss out a few teasing threats. nothing about this scenario warranted the humor that seemed to float under the new man's tone, and he certainly wasn't about to let some reeking intruder ruin his chances with his catch. jake felt his skin crawl as he tore his eyes from the unwelcomed arrival and glanced back over his shoulder to see the runner dropping to the ground. he'd nearly had her too. that girl who had likely been returning to a husband and children. just a few more steps. better him than someone killing for fun. boiling, burgundy irises melted back into the intruder's own ghostly gaze. his body was nearly trembling from the hunt and words were failing him. but he needed to get out. needed to get out now. he could still catch her if he hurried.

indentjake shifted his weight and planted one hand on his aggressor's chest while the other lifted to knock the grip free of his shoulder. a swift movement forced the man several feet back while jake hissed, "touch me one more time, brochacho, and i'll teach you a few things about being a vic." it was like he was fighting for his life - because he was. it was so strangely surreal, how the same deep, threatening cadence rose in his voice when facing this... man? what was it about him that was so offputting that jake had fallen to his muscle memory from training and his voice to that of a resolved police officer? he couldn't place it for the life of him and it was driving him to question his own senses.

indenthe'd been in too many situations where officers had escalated situations too quickly and every bit of him wanted to avoid that outcome with this man, but the way those pearly eyes were staring him down and his perfect teeth peeked out as he chuckled - it made him sick. could this dude not see that he was facing a dangerous ma- ...monster? jake wasn't stupid. but maybe this guy was. he knew the yellow P O L I C E text on his chest still held the stains from his previous outings. no matter how many times he'd scrubbed them in the ditch, the letters hadn't given up their now-orangish tint. his face was plastered with a mixture of sweat and mud from days on the run. blood on his collar wrestled his dad's dog tags for a place of rest. sure. maybe he was new at this, like the stranger had said, but it didn't mean he'd lost complete control. good things came to those who worked hard, right? time to put in the work, jake. he was a force to be reckoned with, and this man obviously needed a briefing.

indentthe ragged officer steadied his voice, as best as he could at least, and raised a singular gloved index finger as he started backing several steps away, "we can do this the easy way or the hard way, guy. you can stand down. go on with your day, and i'll do the same-" a glance over his shoulder and the woman was getting to her feet with a slight limp. a shiver sent his spine quivering, "or, you can keep trying to be the big man in the woods and i'll kill your reeking clown ass so i can finish what i started."

[ethereal .]

𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐌𝐂𝐂𝐀𝐍
the re-educator ✰ tagged; cyrus, dom, eli ✰ mentioned; alex ✰ wc; 1,327

lawrence never really considered himself to be an old person, but more and more often he found himself groaning as he rose from sleep; his back just a bit creaky from the previous day's workout. so just like yesterday, and the day before that, ren interlocked his fingers and stretched his arms far above his head as his alarm clock rang throughout the room. a failed attempt at working out the kinks of his body, but an attempt nonetheless. the strained sigh that slipped from his lips was content, but the feeling in his chest was anything but. a hand was brought down onto the bulky clock, searching desperately for the snooze button. or really any button that would silence the ear piercing noise. today was the day they'd all been waiting for, or rather dreading, for a while now. ren mostly because he felt as though he needed to keep all of his ducks in a row for the occasion. the problem is, his ducks were in fact not in a row. he didn't even know where his ducks were half the time. probably running around and causing trouble as per usual. just the thought of what could go wrong on today of all days made his heart rate spike, filling him with anxiety.

okay, he needed to focus on something that wasn't going to cause a heart attack at the ripe age of twenty-nine. would that be considered premature? or was it actually possible that it could happen considering his age? shaking his head, his eyes drifted to the digital clock that he'd recently assaulted..not like it didn't deserve it. 6:30 AM. he'd already been lying there for five minutes, staring into the darkness, might as well get up now. ren's mornings had become a routine just like everyone else's. well, for the most part. either way, if he didn't follow that routine he'd set for himself then the rest of the day would feel off from then on, and not in a good way..if that's even possible. so just like yesterday, and the day before that, he pushed himself to a sitting position and crawled out of bed. he didn't bother switching on the lamp that sat on his bedside table. even if it meant he'd spend an extra minute or so searching for his shirt that he'd tossed somewhere, anywhere, before lying down last night. it'd only irritate him just about as much as that stupid alarm clock. anyways, it wasn't like his eyes would have a difficult time adjusting to the darkness. "now where on earth..." he muttered softly to himself as he shoved his blanket around the bed and even moved around the room. "ah ha!" came the triumphant statement as he bent over, snatching the shirt off the floor and holding it up to his eye level.

it took a moment, but the dark blob on the front of the shirt finally started to take on a shape and look familiar as it always did. an ugly christmas shirt from about a year or so ago. he had to admit, the design itself wasn't awful, but it was the gaudy not-so-christmas colors that threw him off and made the clothing item truly ugly. normally he would've never worn such a thing, even to bed, unless it was christmas, but it held a special place in his heart. willow, of course, had the matching shirt. though he wasn't sure if it even still fit the rapidly growing child. nevermind, it was one of the only things he could sport proudly wuthout the others questioning it. other than that, he had a 'world's best dad' mug stowed away in his dresser that he normally used uf he knew no one would be around, which wasn't often. keeping his sweet princess tucked away was a difficult task for him considering how much he'd like to brag about the things she's accomplished even at the young age of four. though, to make himself feel better, he thought of her as his best kept secret. after all, it was for her own safety. in a world like this one, it was necessary.

pressing his lips together, he tugged the shirt over his head and ran fingers through his no doubt already messy hair. as much as he'd like to dwell on past memories with his pride and joy, he needed to prepare himself for what was to come. the walk to the kitchen from his room was a lot faster than he would've liked, because if he was being completely honest he was never prepared to face the wrath of lieutenant rhee no matter the time of day. especially when it involved a lecture received after entering his kitchen without permission, but damn did lawrence need his morning tea. poking his head past the entryway he noticed the younger man already making breakfast, or rather cleaning up, as he expected. "sorry to bother you cyrus, i swear i'll be quick." he said as he shuffled towards the cupboard that contained all the mugs. normally he would've boiled the water for his tea, but he already felt like he was in the way, even if the other man was just cleaning up, so he had to take the less desirable route of microwaving the water in a mug. a force smile was directed at the lieutenant as ren moved back and forth around the man, grabbing a mug, filling it with water, placing it in the microwave, and pressing the three minute button.

that first minute, even the second one, felt like torture as he stood there, tapping his foot impatiently and urging the cursed contraption to go faster than possible. once it sounded off, signaling that the time was finally up, he smiled widely and snatched the cup from the microwave. "ah, there we go. thanks cyrus, sorry to be in your way!" he called as he rushed out of the kitchen and rounded a corner. how foolish of him to think, in that moment, that the rest of his morning would go smoothly. peaceful even. well, sure, he'd expected the normal ruckus of the others rushing around to get through their own morning routines before the new supervisory agent arrived. what he didn't expect was for there to be yelling involved. the sound of dom's voice calling out in a louder tone than normal for the morning caused him to flinch, spilling a bit of hot water onto his hand. "ouch, dammit!" he cursed and set the mug down on the closest flat surface, shaking his hand as if it was going to relieve the burning pain. "what the hell, serrano?!" he called in response just as the other man was darting up the stairs.

"okay, this is what we're doing now?" the question was left out in the open, directed at no one in particular really. rolling his eyes, he started after his fellow agent, but with admittedly less...gusto. his feet thumped with attitude as he climbed the stairs, clearly upset over spilled tea. "i don't know what the hell is going on, but you're gonna make me a fresh cup of-" he cut himself off as he raised his eyes where he thought only dom would be standing, but boy was he wrong. thankfully, he'd arrived just as the new supervisory agent was walking away, but that didn't stop him from freezing entirely. for some reason he hadn't expected them..her..to arrive until later, so he was a bit embarrassed buy the fact that he was still dressed in his jammies. he blinked once, then twice, to gather his bearings and shot a not very intimidating glare dom's way. "way to go man. she's been here two seconds and you've assaulted her." he grumbled, though instantly perked up when he noticed eli also standing nearby. "oh! hey eli! how was your run?" he asked gently with a smile, as if nothing had happened.

[slaughter beach, dog]

────────────── 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐘 ─ ❞𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋❞ ─ 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃 ─── ⚱ ─── ─ ─
──────────────────────────────────────────────────── THE HELLHOUND ─── ─

LOCATION; a remote stretch of forest; Washington ─ TAGGING; Eli ─ MENTIONED; none ─ WC; 2,876

█ ██║▌
█ ██║▌
█ ██║▌

All Bellamy Crawford could hear was the deafening roar of something all around her, like blood rushing in her ears, but it was snapping and crackling, and taunting her, as if it were angry. It could have been her heart, which was thundering in her chest as if she had been running for miles before collapsing onto her knees on the dark soil that she couldn't recognize. Except she couldn't remember running, and she couldn't remember falling. Am I dreaming? She twisted her fingers into the flaky mixture of blackened dirt and ash, which broke apart underneath her touch and fell away as nothing larger than dust. Smudges of soot and grime trailed across the backs of her hands in a bizarre artwork with no beginning and no end. It was all too real.
indentindentA radiating light flickered past her view of the ground, drawing elongating shadows from where her hands met the dirt. Sudden alarm — an intermingling wave of fear, disorientation, and something far more frightening pulsing hot through the network of veins in her arms — sent her head jerking up, and it became impossible to believe she was awake, but similarly, a dream was out of the question. At best, it would have been a nightmare. At worst, some rendering of afterlife with brimstone and air filled with noxious fumes. She had heard someone mention the valley of the shadow of death, and if anything, this was it, but she most certainly feared evil. Whoever had written those lines hadn't seen what she was seeing. The world had become an inferno of consuming flame and billowing smoke that darkened the place that should have held the sky. It poured out of every tree and rained back down toward the ground as ash and soot.
indentindentBlinding flames licked the charred earth in advancing lashes, which climbed the trunks of the firs with greedy claws until the wood twisted and groaned, sputtering out volleys of sparks that found spiraling paths through the veil of smoke. Some instinct in Bellamy's head was telling her that she should have been coughing and expelling the toxic fumes from her lungs, but there was no urge, no choking and retching. The air was as kind to her throat as it would have been on a crisp morning in the mountains. In fact, her breath traveled easier than it had in weeks. And her mind was quiet. The flames had cleared her head. Something within her told her to be reluctant, that it was not a kind deed done. She couldn't understand what it meant, all she knew was that there had been ghastly, winding voices chanting and coercing in tongues unfamiliar to her, only to be replaced by the clarifying absence of them in this storm of fire. A strange salve to the worsening wounds in the fabric of her brain. This isn't real.
indentindentBellamy prised herself to her feet, stumbling in the layer of cinders that coated the razed land. The smoke was too thick to see more than a few feet ahead, and the standing corpses of charred trees kept materializing from the fumes like conscious attackers. A gale reached down into the inferno, fueling the fires and whipping them towards her. She recoiled, raising her arm to shield her face from the heat, but the burn never came. Instead, it seemed to bend with the movement of her arm before the flame dispersed into the overhead columns of smoke, and the voracious blaze withdrew and returned to devouring its way through the land. None of this is real.
indentindentAsh clung to Bellamy's boots as she distanced herself from the heart of the inferno, blindly navigating her way to what was mere charred plain, which still smoldered in the wake of its destruction. The smoke drifted past the remains of scraggy trees, hanging low to the ground. She stumbled, nearly tripping over her own feet, but the trunk of a burnt tree caught her fall and she propped her shoulder against it to regain her balance. The bark crumbled from the blackened surface, but it was hardly as concerning as the sparks that leapt for her skin — or from it. A whisper followed, like someone had leaned in and murmured familiarly unfamiliar words into her ear. She flinched away from the tree as if it would remedy the fracture in reality, finally toppling onto her backside in a move that kicked up a cloud of flaky ash.
indent"Guys, there's someone alive here!" a male voice punctured through the desolation. The grubby bright yellow of a firefighter's uniform emerged from the constant screen of gray. Another whisper, right behind her shoulder. Bellamy whipped her head around, although she knew somewhere deep down that there would never be anyone there. Her heart had been thundering since she had found herself on her knees in that fire, but now, it was bashing against her ribs. A drumbeat, building to something dreadful. It coiled within her as something raw and feverish, searing through her veins, and climbing towards a crescendo that screamed inside of her head in those abominable disembodied voices. They scratched, and tore, and echoed.
indent"Lady, we need to get you out of here," the firefighter shouted past his gear and took a step closer. Bellamy raised her hand to plead him to stay where he was, but what she saw primed before her was the trace of a hand inside a spiral of twisting tendrils of noxious black smoke. The sparks had turned to flames.
indentindentThe firefighter startled, grabbing at the fire blanket hanging from his pack. The voices had begun howling. He unfurled the blanket, preparing to throw it over her.
indent"No, don't!" she managed to wail over the tumult, but the man must have thought her delirious from the fumes around them. For a brief moment, Bellamy considered it the truth, submitting to the flames around her arm being put out by someone who was merely trying to help, but then the heat in her veins surged towards her palm. The voices fell silent, only to be replaced by one long scream as she lost her grasp on the world.

indentindentA heavy thunk cut through the curtain of Bellamy's sleep. She started awake, groggily scanning the length of her bedroom for the source of the noise that had awoken her, before thinking to peer over the side of her bed. Her phone must have fallen. She rubbed at her eyes with her knuckles, but as she pulled her hand away, she discovered it stained by a layer of powdery soot. A glance around revealed the white sheets were smudged with similar blemishes. Confusion bubbled to the surface of her mind, and she reached for her phone to discover it disfigured by the imprint of a hand melted into the screen. Without thinking much of it, she tried fitting her hand to it. It was a near-perfect match. What the hell happened last night?
indentindentAnother thunk as she abandoned the newly useless phone on the bedside table. Bellamy's movements quickly shed the residue of sleep as she climbed out of bed, trying to hold down the dread in the pit of her stomach. It didn't seem as if she had changed out of the clothes she had worn the previous day, because her shirt was covered in the same soot as her sheets, although with the addition of a scatter of holes singed into the sleeves. The smell of burning followed her, lingering in the room as she crossed to her laptop and flung open the screen to see the time. It was nearing seven in the morning, and as unusual as it was for her to be on her feet at such an hour, it was the date that was all wrong. Her last memory was from three days ago.
indentindentThe laptop dinged with a new message, which brought up a notification about fourteen messages and a few dozen missed calls from her mother. She clicked into the messenger synced with her phone and began scrolling through the thread, mostly eyeing through the texts that seemed urgent. She could recall the first few missed calls, which she had ignored on purpose, since the effect of storming out of someone's office could be undermined by immediately accepting their calls. If it had taken her mother twenty-four years to tell her that big shot Michael Crawford wasn't her biological father — while said "father" fled onto some business trip overseas — she could wait a few days for a call. Moreover, her mother had refused to budge when she had asked for a name. It wasn't very fair, and she had told Abbie exactly that.


ABIGAIL CRAWFORD
─ ─ ─ three days ago ─ ─ ─
6:28 pm
Missed call
6:34 pm
Missed call
6:35 pm
Honey, please call me when you can.
─ ─ ─ two days ago ─ ─ ─
11:03 am
Bells?
2:52 pm
Missed call
4:22 pm
I know you're upset, but this isn't fair.
4:23 pm
Just call me before you send me any
snarky comments on fairness.
─ ─ ─ yesterday ─ ─ ─
9:45 am
Missed call
3:42 pm
Bellamy Lavinia Crawford, answer your
phone!!
─ ─ ─ today ─ ─ ─
2:45 am
I saw you setting off the lake house
alarm on the security cameras.
2:46 am
It's good to know you're alive.
2:47 am
There's been a wildfire near the lake,
please stay safe.
6:42 am
Bells, just call me when you wake up.
indentindentBy the time she had reached the end of the thread, Bellamy's head was throbbing. Apparently she had half-broken into the lake house around two in the morning. She glanced at the glass doors leading to the backyard, which was bordered by the forest that had apparently been on fire mere hours ago. The doorjamb was smudged with the same soot as everything else. Had she decided to go roll around in the burnt forest in the middle of the night? She clicked out of the chat with her mother, making a mental note to let her know she was indeed alive and hadn't intended to ignore her for three whole days, but that it didn't mean she was ready to listen to Abbie's excuses about lying to her for a few decades.
indentindentShe eyed through the rest of her notifications to see if there were any clues to what had happened during the three days she had lost, ignoring the muted group chats and invites to the "high society parties" she had always felt awkward attending. But a message from her cousin Eli from a few days ago brought her a sense of relief even when she was missing three days from her life and in desperate need of a shower. "Hey bebe! hope all is good with you, we need to meet up soon! can't believe it's been soo long since we saw eachother last!" The text was punctuated with generous exclamation marks and an obscene amount of emojis. Bellamy clicked open the chat, then left the cursor to hover over the message box. Michael's not my dad, she typed, before erasing it. I can't remember the last few days. Erase. I don't know what to do. She finally sent the text, just as her laptop dinged with another notification from Abbie.


ABIGAIL CRAWFORD
─ ─ ─ today ─ ─ ─
6:52 am
I sent your brother to the lake house. He
didn't know either, and I wanted you to
decide whether you wanted him to know,
but he does now.
indentindentHer brother. Well, half-brother, she presumed. The six-three Benjamin "Benji" Crawford who barely showed his face due to the mysterious job that often took him all the way to the east coast. Bellamy threaded her fingers through her hair, only to have a volley of ash and soot tumble down and smudge the keyboard over which she had been leaning. She really needed that shower, and a fresh change of clothes, because Benji would inevitably have questions if he walked in on her looking like this, and she wasn't certain if she would be able to provide an answer of any kind. Other than, 'I don't know and I'm kind of freaking out.'
indentindentBellamy had just pulled a clean shirt over her head when the front door slammed, and a familiar voice called her name from the hallway, before the rhythmic sound of footsteps launched toward her room. She discarded the towel she had ran through her hair, having not managed to get it anywhere dryer than damp. Although she had heard Benji coming, she winced as the door creaked open, and a head with short inky black hair and stubble on the chin poked through. He had a hand over his eyes.
indent"Are you decent?" he asked, lowering his hand, but not opening his eyes. Bellamy frowned, crossing her arms, although the gesture ended up feeling more a sign of insecurity than the irritation she had hoped to convey, so she dropped them to fidget with the rivets on the pockets of her jeans.
indent"Yeah, but you could just knock. Like normal people from regular families with no weird secrets," she sighed, and Benji tentatively peeked open one brown eye, before opening the other.
indent"Wow, I've just stepped in, and you're already shooting the messenger. Pew-pew, my heart is shattered," he teased, fully entering the room, but his playful, white-toothed grin turned into a raised brow when he took in the mess. She hadn't had time to clean it up, not that she really even knew how to get soot out of a doorjamb. "Quite the party you've been having. I'd help you trash the lake house as retaliation, but I promised mom, so let's go. C'mon."
indent"No, Benji, I'm nearly twenty-five. A grown adult! If you're gonna grab me and drag me back to m─ Abigail, I'll kick you where it hurts," she threatened, and although she fully intended to go through with what she had said, it hadn't sounded terribly intimidating. Benji smirked, before bending at the knees and hopping sideways as if he were a goalie trying to keep someone from scoring. Bellamy bit back the smile that was threatening to creep onto her face, because she really wanted to be upset, and she was, but Benji was also making it increasingly difficult.
indentindentBenji brought up his arms and began advancing in small leaps that were anything but graceful.
indent"You look like a frog with a bone disease," she taunted, before lifting her own hands in a placatory gesture and reaching to grasp his so he would quit his strange display. But when she got close, he hissed out a sharp, pained sound and retracted his hand. As if he had been burned.
indent"Quit messing around," she startled, but the hesitation in her voice betrayed her own uncertainty about whether it had been another joke or something real. The smell of burning in the room reminded her of itself. Benji was still shaking out his hand as he stood to his full height and turned to look at her. His gaze shifted from Bellamy's concerned face to the stained sheets, the discarded pile of ruined clothes, and finally the melted lump of a phone on the bedside table, before circling back to her with widened eyes. She could practically see the gears turning in his head, executing some calculation to which Bellamy didn't even possess the terms.
indent"Grab your stuff, we gotta go," he blurted out, his tone grim all of a sudden, as a stark contrast to the previous lightness. He wasn't afraid of her, he was afraid for her. Why?
indent"No, I'm not going anywhere. Benji, you're freaking me out," she argued, running her fingers through her hair in what was a nervous habit. She was surprised to find it had dried in mere minutes. Benji went for her closet, tugging open the doors and rifling through the shelves, undoubtedly looking for some bag to stuff her belongings into.
indent"We've gotta get out of Washington," he mumbled, tossing a backpack onto the floor, before turning around. "My truck's out front, get in it. I'll pack."
indent"What?" Bellamy exclaimed, backing away, towards the glass doors. She didn't know what his plans were or what had set him off, but she wasn't going to leave Washington. A whisper, floating by her shoulder. She whipped her head around. No one. An image, memory, from one of the nights she had lost, of the charred ground underneath her hands. The firefighter. Her knees felt like they were going to buckle.
indent"Benji, you have to leave," she pleaded, taking another step away from her brother.
indent"And you're coming with," he retorted, moving closer.
indentindentThe whispers were multiplying. Bellamy ripped open the sliding doors and bolted for the treeline. It was the only thing she had thought to do.
indent"Bells!" came Benji's shout from the house, followed by a moment of silence, as if he was hesitating, before an ear-piercing boom erupted through the yard. Bellamy ducked as something whipped past her head and grazed one of the trees, showering her in splinters. Had Benji just shot at her?

[䏠xote]

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────────── [ 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍 ] ───────────────────────────────────────────────
──────────────────────────────── • the emt • medical bay < kitchen • tagged: cyrus • ──────────

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textgnashing fangs glittering with crimson, the fragrant smell of rosemary tinted with the metallic iron of blood. a beast in the darkness, watching him with crystal eyes, wide and terrified. he stood still, trapped in time slowed nearly to a halt, unable to move, to cry out, to look away from that piercing gaze; the maw of a wild beast stretched into a wicked grin, sneering as muscle and tendon crunched down together, preparing to lunge for its terrified prey. if he looked closely, he could see the terror in those cloudy eyes, the fear of something trapped inside of itself and unable to comprehend the carnage left in its tormented wake. in the darkness of the doorway, he could just barely make out the silhouette of a trembling body, strawberry fur on end as moonlight illuminated its fearsome, predatory face. the glow of those eyes haunted him, carrying through every lingering moment, pulsing through his bloodstream like fractals and chilling his heart with stabbing pain.

textit was always the same: the ticking of the milliseconds as they passed, the flicker of light from the neighbor's porch glowing soberly through the curtains. then the cloud above would finally pass, would inch a fraction enough for light to come pooling in with the luminosity of a full and vibrant moon, soaking the bedroom in silver. he would see the specks of dust in the air, see his own breaths pull from him and crystallize under his nose as the creature leapt spring-loaded from its place in the darkness. wide jaws like a trap, closing in on him as the clock sped up, as the flow of time rebounded and sent him ticking into that yawning cavern of death--

textjoel's phone buzzed on his desk, the vibrations of it loud and unpleasant against his arms and face. his hazel eyes forced themselves open, slowly, and he reached one calloused finger to swipe across the spiderweb of cracked screen displaying his alarm. the noise stopped, and he breathed in a deep sigh, dragging it to the bottom of his lungs before letting it go. tendrils of sleep grasped at his brain, but he let it go in favor of the emptiness that came after, a small moment of quiet and nothing that calmed him. his racing pulse quieted, tapering down to what was expected for a man his age, and the sweat on the back of his neck cooled to a tingle.

textwhen nothing remained of the stray dreams that struggled to keep their hold on him, joel let his mind wander back to the morning at hand. he'd been able to snag a few hours of sleep, a promise made to friends old and new that of course he would try, that he'd be fine and rested in the morning. it was a lie when he had said it then, but an even bigger one in hindsight now that he was awake. when had he ever been well rested? he shifted to lean back, reaching to run one hand through his ashen brown hair, paled by time and stress. certainly not for a long while. He pursed his lips, and finally shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet, getting up from his chair with a hardly audible grunt.

textit wasn’t unusual for him to fall asleep in the medical bay, typing away reports in the early morning hours and keeping up with files and news. his job wasn’t quite as exciting nor as glamorous as his colleagues, but he did have a fair amount to do. after all, who else was going to stitch together werewolf bites and set broken bones? plus, it wasn’t really like they could send newborns to the local hospital for a physical, and his arsenal of remedies was vast. sore throat? all dads had something for that, a cure honed over years of tending to complaining little ones on winter nights. can’t sleep? he had something for that, too, be it an empty chair and open ear, or a warm cup of tea and spoonful of north carolina honey kept tucked away for just such an occasion.

textbut it was really the more serious things that brought out his true expertise, steady hands and fingers that wouldn’t tremble no matter how dire the situation.

texthe grabbed his jacket off of the back of his chair and pulled it on, his shoulder protesting with morning stiffness. autumn and winter were always harder, even with how well the aging man had kept in shape. nothing could ever really help the arthritis that worked itself into mended bone, settling deep under screws and pins that were really just as much part of his body as the ache by now. he was grateful for the sturdy fabric of their bsa undershirts, less prone to wrinkling than anything he would have worn before his time there. as long as there wasn’t a bright red mark on his face from resting it on his arms, then maybe, just maybe, no one would notice he hadn’t made it to his own room. the last thing he wanted or needed was someone criticizing his sleep habits.

textjoel snatched his phone off of the desk, and clicked his tongue in distaste as he noticed the bleed of dark starting up in the left corner of the screen as it lit up. he’d been avoiding agent serrano’s efforts to have him send for a new one, but it didn’t look like he’d be able to for much longer. technology... he really didn’t want to have to learn how to operate a new one. the man tucked it into his pocket, and briefly glanced over his desk to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. the dim light coming from the hall wasn’t kind to his eyes, but it was enough to distinguish the items there: a face down photograph, the only one he kept; a gameboy that he had given duncan some time ago and hadn’t had the chance to return when someone had been able to drag him back to the lockers, the surface of it chipped and worn; his laptop, still sitting open but the screen dark on sleep mode; and a memo with typing unreadable in the darkness, even for him.

textoh.

textthe memo.

texthe’d forgotten what day it was, distracted by his two a.m. conversation with a certain vagabond the night before, and joel issued an audible sound of frustration. of all the days he could have slept in… he hurried out into the hallway, pace brisk as he pinched the bridge of his nose, hazel eyes narrowing. he didn’t have to stop by the lockers to know that duncan wouldn’t be there; there was a pattern that he was used to, and he’d have been a fool not to be after almost two decades. it wasn’t worth warning the others about, either--if the wolf wanted to leave, there wasn’t really anything that anyone could do to stop him. at least, nothing ethical. it was a shame that it had to be today of all days, but there were some things that just couldn’t be worried about. the man just hoped their new captain hadn’t made an appearance yet.

textor, rather, that she hadn’t run into him on his way out.

textthe doctor dipped into the kitchen, drawn in by the smell of savory hash and sweet breakfast confections, and he dropped his hand from his face to look over the spread cyrus had provided for them. “sausage today?” he whistled light-heartedly, already feeling a bit more bright at the promise of something more substantial than the typical starchy provisions. “lieutenant, you spoil us.” he offered a wink, grabbing a mug and putting on some water to boil, careful not to get in the way more than he had to.

text“and the dishes, too? truly a saint.” as disingenuous as it could have sounded, the words were easy and free of mischief. he’d never really been a good cook himself, not very capable of adjusting freely to play with recipes. he wasn’t bad at it, either, but he couldn’t say the same for the rest of the team. surely without cyrus they’d all starve, or at the very least have heart attacks from the sheer amount of takeout that would have to happen to keep everyone fed. “if you don’t leave some work for the rest of us we might stop being able to take care of ourselves. then we’ll really be lost if anything happens to you.”

textlike if you choke on a potato, for example.

[mtuan,]

𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐎 "𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄" 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐆
❝ 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱, 𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 ❞
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tagged, Alex, Dom, Eli, Lawrence, Duncan's bracelet (rip) |oc, if I missed anyone, lemme know! 1,048 words

Sleep doesn't normally come easy for a dragon. Well- sleep didn't come easy for one particular dragon boy. Sleep didn't come easy to tall dragon boys with messy, dark, chestnut colored hair often found shoved forcefully under burgundy beanies that only brought out his sun-golden skin tone. Sleep didn't come easily to those with too much energy and too many items to stash away, with too many treasures to be found and not enough time or space in the world to get it all done. Sleep didn't come easily to youthful looking boys with bright, doe eyes, who eagerly rocked on their heels at the idea of mischief around an oversized, underpopulated mansion of sorts. Okay fine, sleep just didn't come easily for Vincere.

Not when he had spent all night exuberant and excited, full of vibrancy and life, as he stole yet another one of those pretty looking things from a resident down below; this time it was a bracelet of sorts- some piece of jewelry that he didn't know the owner of. He'd simply seen it in one of the rooms earlier the day before and swiped it before someone could tell him 'no'- most likely the one resident Vince had self-proclaimed to the best friend of. It was an easy task- of course. No one told the youthful looking boy 'no' to any capacity- Vince did as he pleased; he came and went, took and kept, and occasionally even spooked, all for the sake of some temporary amusement. And this time was no different when he had spied the little piece of accessory hanging around in some dude's room, looking all shiny and practically begging to be taken. One man's treasure was another dragon boy's treasure, right? (That's not how the saying went-.)

Somehow, Vincere ended up in his own quarters once again soon after- just some unused room people normally took as a junk room; well, the weird people who even resided in this building, anyway. It doesn't take long for the dragon to simply admire his new find, along with a spoon he'd taken from the kitchen earlier just because he had the very much sudden urge to take anything that reflected light off of it's surface, before they're both tossed into the pile of various other miscellaneous 'junk' items littering his quarters.

They're practically in little piles hanging around his place- one here, another there- like little "neat" hills... of sorts. Of course, they won't be around for long. Every so often, Vince has come to realize his things go missing- simply out the window (-literally, if you will) and tossed without much care. He's become accustomed to the lack of consent to throw out his things by the residential poltergeist- in fact, he has grown to quite appreciate the fact of the matter. Because if he was being entirely truthful- if not for the poltergeist, who often had itchy fingers when it came to throwing out his things it seemed, his room would probably have become inhabitable at one point or another. Vincere never had the heart to throw out his own accumulated "wealth".

A new presence is what brings Vincere back onto his feet in a split second, jumping up with a little too much force as his eyes go wide. His eyes widen, the action causing him to clumsily knock over one of his mini piles on accident; the boy cringes- he has to fight the urge to stack them up again in some sort of coherency. But somehow, he seems to fight the urge.

Instead, he practically zooms out of his living quarters, curiosity itching at his heart, until he's met with the sound of a thermos smacking soft fabric, the sloshing sound of coffee hitting his ears. Immediately, the thermos catches the boy's attention, vision zeroed in one the small item. He silently skids to a halt around the corner, peering away at the little group, but out of sight nonetheless. The slight exchange intrigues the boy, however, long enough to pause and watch. Watch the way this woman- apparently some new team leader or something like that, command in a terse voice, as two others- a man and a woman, somehow manage their way through the exchange. Odd. A little awkward. If Vince could say so, himself.

Deciding that it was enough with the exchange and he might as well go for 'it' while he still had a chance (he was sure this woman wasn't the type to waste her time- if her responses and clear aura of authority were any signs to go by), Vince immediately makes a dive for the duffel bag first- and then the thermos. He practically swipes the duffel bag right out of the said captain's hands, wrapping one lanky arm around the rather... bulky item, before he's reaching for the thermos.

Though his movements come natural to himself, the dragon is well aware of his speed among the group- fast enough to be a blur for sure (-or you know, hopefully), but definitely not as... invisible as some could be. Vince is just betting on the fact that they probably wouldn't be able to catch his features this time- or hopefully ever.

As soon as the thermos is in his grasp, the boy is distinctly aware of the warmth emanating from the object. Of course, he had no use for the contents within the "fancy" cup- he was definitely not drinking whatever was left if it meant consuming what someone else had already touched; and so Vince doesn't even hesitate to dump the remnants of the coffee (as he comes to realize the mystery liquid is) out right onto the floor as he went, a puddle no doubt forming next to the already soaked young woman. He shows no care for the building as he shakes the thermos, splattering droplets of the overly-expensive, a little too overwhelmingly 'smelly' coffee all over the adjacent walls.

"Heh, oops- it's like art." he accidentally mutters out loud, childish giggles following soon after. They echo along even as he disappears with the items in his possession.

And then, he's just gone- right back into the room he came from- two (plus) items in arm. But the these people didn't need to know that... yet.

[ajax.]

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𝐃𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 !!!
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'the malefactor'
i. 26 y/o ii. cismale
iii. bisexual
iv. woods, not far from epipen
v. cocky, curious, feral
vi. jake,(men. dom, eli)
vii. 1,372 words

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OKAY. okay, this was going alright... right?

duncan opened his mouth to ay another snippy comment, but not too snippy, he needed to calm this vamp down at least. but he never got the chance too because the guy shifted his footing with marksman speed and planted a palm on duncan's broad chest. the malefactor blinked as he was shoved backwards, his smile faltering for barely a moment before he let a rumbly laugh bubble up from his throat. he backed up another foot for good measure, he wasn't sure if this guy would try to bite him, and didn't want to risk it.

he cleared his throat, touching his chest where he had been shoved briefly as if to mock feeling hurt. "okayyyy, not too much for touching... i gotchya kiddo don't worry about it, personal bubble." he lifted his hands up in defense, keeping the respectful distance from the vamp. his eyes flitted to the trail where eli was still crouched. but then, she was back up and leaving. he tried to not obviously release a held breath.

he could smell defensive energy basically dripping off the guy. he could almost snort another laugh at him, but he didn't want to go too far. his eyes glanced down at the bloodstained 'POLICE' splayed across the man's chest.

ahh, that explained how this guy could speak with such authority.

duncan resisted the urge that grew within him to assert his dominance. to snarl and snap at this wise guy until he backed down and called him alpha. the muscles in his neck tightened but he refrained, cooling the soft growl that was already growing in his chest before it grew too loud.

he finally lowered his hands to hook into the belt loops of his jeans. he still kept his back straight, ensuring he still held an inch or too of height over the post-officer. he then scented the air, knowing that eli had now gone, trying to tell if anyone was following him... and by anyone he meant some wiseguy blade boy who felt the need to keep the tally marks even. he didn't find anything, but they were upwind from anyone at epsilon, so he couldn't be sure... he had to rely on his ears, which twitched with every rustle from the breeze.

the guy was talking again, and duncan resisted the urge to smile... this guy really thought he was working with the epipens? funny.

he let a snort leave him, which escalated to a loud grumbly laugh. "sorry my guy, but those idiots are off limits, you don't need any bigger sized target painted across your back." he leaned forward a little bit to look over him, still at least a couple feet away from him... he could easily close the gap if the bloodsucker tried to make a run for eli. the guy would be running into a brick wall if he tried anything.

a small flicker of movement caught the blond's gaze as he tried to stealthily round a corner of the bsa. dammit! he was so close to being free again. he had allowed himself to be cooped up in that damned kennel for a week now and he had to run. he had to get out, he couldn't stand looking through bars anymore.

his pearly gaze flashed in the dim light of early morning, the only light coming from small notches under doors where members of the bsa were still awake... or just forgot to turn the lights off, he wouldn't put it past them. he didn't need any of this crap, he had to be free.

he froze, trying to hide in the crevice of a deeper shadow, body remaining still as stone as he tried to figure out if he should run or stay where he was.

a newer agent rounded the corner, one that duncan had only seen a couple times passing by his kennel. her taser was raised, eyes alight as she went to investigate the sounds he was making. though, she was in the dark without a flashlight, he had the advantage,

he could jump her...

he shook his head. no! that would not end well for either of them, duncan didn't need another body to add to his count, especially an agent... his file was thick enough as it was with his maulings... he needed to at least try and fix it.

but he couldn't just let her waltz in and send him back, no then the guarding around his cell would be doubled by the time the sun was up. he slowly crouched down, hands on his knees, keeping his muscled tensed for when she passed him and he had an opening to run.

he ducked his head, if he couldn't see her, she couldn't see him right? his lips touched his dirty knuckles, silently hoping she would just continue walking by, hearing the steps encroach closer and closer did little to ease his racing heartbeat though. they were almost upon him, just a couple more steps and he would be free!

the steps stopped...

'no, no no nononono' the malefactor thought, his muscles were still weak from the crash that happened years ago already, he could probably wrestle her before fleeing but he was sure it would cause alarm and then he'd have no chance.

he slowly looked up into the girls wide eyes as she looked down at him, hands still on her weapon. duncan blinked, he probably looked pathetic sitting like that... like a subordinate.

the girl tilted her head briefly to the side, and the confusion that struck duncan left him in a daze as she nodded. "it's okay, you can go... you looked miserable in your cage." she whispered, voice soft and sweet, she carried the smell of chalk and leather, as if she was in a gymnasium.

she must be joking... right? she's going to call the rest of the agents the second he turned a corner. slowly, duncan stood up, head hunched down so he wouldn't tower over the girl.

someone was helping him? he swallowed, his throat dry as his eyebrows pinched upwards, as if to ensure she was serious. no, get out of here... or else I might have to call someone if you're not quick enough." a ghost of a chuckle rose from her lips, and that was that. duncan had straightened himself and bolted down the hall and up the stairs, not even looking back.

the malefactor blinked, his eyes flashed wildly at the vamp's comment, flaring with energy as he let a coy grin spread his features wide, sharp canines poking into his lower lip. "don't paint me as someone who's looking out for all the bambis little bat... you can suck as many people as you want dry, so long as you do it well and you don't get caught doing so." his smile disappeared for a moment as he shifted his weight, leaning against a large cedar tree. "you've got a lot to learn if you want to last out here longer than a couple months..."

this guy wouldn't last another month if he went after eli... dom would have his head himself... and as much as duncan didn't want to admit it, he would be angry as well. the girl let him escape more times than he could count, he owed it to her that she made it back to the facility safely. those guys were his responsibility when he was in these woods...

"tell you what kiddo..." he crossed his arms over his chest, taking a deep breath, trying to blow the hair from his eyes with the exhale. then, he let out an exasperated groan, stretched out his one leg while the other one held his weight. "I'll buy you a nice, strong, dark roast... then we can talk this out huh? you look like you need some caffeine." this guy needed to cover his tracks, the trailsman would find his scent before he even leaves it. he was too much of a newbie to know nay better sure, but his ferality could only get him so far if he didn't wise up and keep his wits about him.

[panorama,]

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━xx𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈 ⭑ 𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓!xx━━━━━━━━━━━
tags ( cyrus, joel ) location ( kitchen ) mentions ( dom, eli, duncan, alex ) rank ( the trailsman ) word count ( 2317 )

xxxxxxIt's the same thing every time. One would think that enduring the same dull aching pain would be something that she was accustomed to, passively letting it washing over her like relentless gushing water. It's rather strange that facing the same circumstances has not knocked some sense into her, that it has failed to equip her with the tools to overcome this unseen opponent. But the pain is always too irrefutable, the waves are always too big. It's to the point where she can only desperately claw at the empty space in front of her, lungs burning as panic bursts from every nerve ending. All she feels is water, undeniably enveloping her in her entirety. The darkness clings to her skin, sucking the air from each breath that she foolishly attempts to draw. The absence of light mocks her for being too weak to push her head to the surface.
xxxxxxThe trailsman clumsily tumbles out of her bed, bolting upright upon impact. Her eyes are still heavy with sleep as she presses the pads of her fingers to her face and lazily draws circles on her skin in a feeble attempt to rid herself of the weight. It was the fourth night in a row that she had done this, and waking up covered in a sheen of sweat was rapidly becoming old news. Rolling to her feet, Andi pulled her window curtain back with an index finger, wondering what time, day, year, dimension she had slept until. It has certainly been disorienting, waking up after the sun has already risen, especially since people have already started to go on about their business. Typically, Andi Elcott was one of the earliest risers, already engaging in her usual antics by the time the rest of the team reluctantly trudged downstairs to breakfast. Tossing and turning and generally sucking at sleeping, however, was putting quite the damper on her usual agenda of being the first great big shining face that greets Team Epsilon in the morning. Of course, she could always tell someone about it, but then she wouldn't be able to figure it out for herself. No, telling someone about her troubles would be very counterintuitive to her new resolution of trying to be less annoying. This team probably has no interest in the contents of her head, anyway, especially since she is no stranger to making things known. The amount of information that Andi reveals in an afternoon is probably equivalent to every single thing she has gathered about any of the others that reside within their home. Andi constantly has to remind herself that these people are technically her coworkers. She is here to focus and work hard and not get distracted. She is here to be an asset, not a child to be babysat. Andi groaned, burying her face in her pillowcase. The trailsman tried to summon a brave face as she hoped that no one scolds her for her tardiness. She can already see Cyrus getting all red in the face and maybe he even puts his hands on his hips. The trailsman smiled softly at this funny image, and moved to get ready for the day. While some may be disapproving of her rising time, she had the sneaking suspicion that some of the others have been indulging in the sweet and calming silence of her absence.
xxxxxxIf it weren't for the damned dress code, Andi would have absolutely no problem strolling down to breakfast in her oversized high school musical tee shirt and fuzzy neon purple socks. A comfortable Andi is a productive one (in theory), and she really didn't see why her wardrobe had any effect on the productivity of the team. She's a creature of comfort after all, and there's nothing more comforting than troy's reassuring and rather dazzling smile. With a huff, Andi pulled out her most convincing "I mean business" tee shirt, and after looking longingly at a ratty pair of neon green sweatpants, opted for black leggings instead. She effortlessly pulled on her favorite black leather jacket (which sounds a lot more intimidating than it is) and slipped her converse on. The trailsman looked at herself once more in the mirror, deciding that running her fingers through her mahogany locks was good enough (which was a tragic mistake on her part, because by normal people standards, the bedhead was still very much evident), and swiped the back of her hand over her mouth to get rid of the residual drool (ew). She almost decided this was it, before thinking twice and rubbing some concealer under her eyes to make it appear that she wasn't as dead as she felt. There was absolutely no chance she would get away with taking it easy today, even though her muscles were aching and head was throbbing from the lack of sleep. No, people would start asking questions, and while she was usually eager to engage in conversation with literally anyone about absolutely anything, her dumb dreams were off the table for now.
xxxxxxAndi tore through the hallway, and every step seemed to shake off even the faintest detail of her rough night. Her steady movement faltered as she heard a commotion downstairs. Was that, yelling? Her ears hypothetically perked as anticipation and insatiable curiosity bubbled within her chest. The trailsman quickened the pace, closing her eyes as she maneuvered down the stairs that she knew by heart. Eliminating sight sometimes allowed for her to focus on other senses, especially scent and hearing. Step after step revealed more to the energy that had settled on the first level of the compound. There was a faint musky scent of Dom and the sweet Eli and the woody werewolf guy and then, there was someone new. Someone new? Andi tried to think of why the team would be hosting, or if this visitor was not the welcomed type. An intruder would surely explain the commotion from before, but alas, the sounds grew softer. Andi suddenly paused as if she had been physically hit with her realization. New team leader! The voice in her head scolded, if not in anger, then definitely disappointment. Forgetting such an event was taking place today, and sleeping in for her new leader's arrival certainly wasn't the best first impression. So much for starting off on the right foot. If she didn't get canned for being an absolute chaotic mess of a person, tardiness would surely do the trick.
xxxxxxThe trailsman moved with purpose as more presences became known. She already knew it would be Joel and Cyrus as she burst into the kitchen. She knew Joel in the way that his scent was especially familiar and comforting and indescribably unique to him. Cyrus was, of course, a scent that caused a small anxious blossom sprout in her chest. Call it one too many threats handed to her by the lieutenant and his frying pan. Wildly erratic honey colored eyes scanned the landscape as she assessed the situation. The smell of dish soap and grease flooded her senses as her eyes darted from the sink to Cyrus and then back to Joel, whose dulcet voice seemed to have just finished a sentence. The introduction of the artificial kitchen light along with the static background noise of various jumbled conversations and the smell- Andi didn't know what to dissect first. That was the thing, of course. Sure, she could peel back every layer of every detail to explain its presence and build a profile of the room, but with a mind that moves like hers? She'd discover three facts and have to backtrack because she had gotten distracted by five more. Being distracted was something that Andi was trying desperately to improve upon. Her brain has always behaved in this way, much to her dismay, and it is certainly one of her biggest insecurities. She cannot seem to help it or control it or steady it. The trailsman will be on the verge of a breakthrough and have all progress halt because a butterfly had fluttered within her line of sight. Yes, it really is that bad.
xxxxxxNaturally, Andi, in trying to control her breathing and exercise polite manners, moved to greet both the lieutenant and EMT but immediately caught the delightful scent of- "BREAKFAST!" The word burst from her lips as she, as ferocious as a wrecking ball, swung towards the table and landed with a thump. Any and every thought had hastily evacuated the trailsman's mind as she hyper focused on her new and most favorite thing of the hour: food. Long gone was the commotion she had heard only moments before. Now? The only thing she saw was a steaming hot and fully prepared meal. Eagerly, the girl grappled for a fork and was about to dive right in when she remembered- "Cyrus! Forgive me. Thank you so very much for cooking breakfast," the trailsman uttered between bites, shoveling the food towards her face. "You are so responsible and compassionate and-" she paused to chew some more. "Good at cooking. Really Good. Very good, Cyrus. I mean, Lieutenant. Lieutenant Sir. " she scrambled, only half caring whether or not she'd be hit over the head with a wooden spoon as she pointed to her almost empty plate.
xxxxxxThe compliment didn't feel like it actually expressed how she was feeling, and it hung in the absence of further sound. Andi expertly maneuvered through her interview process, careful not to include the intimate complexities and complications of her home life, so she certainly would not expect Cyrus to know that Andi never had anyone cook for her before. It always makes her feel a little awkward, so maybe that's why she feels the need to literally drown Cyrus in thanks (he always seems to absolutely love it). The truth was that Andi really really appreciates being able to wake up and absolutely talk Cyrus' ear off while he prepares breakfast for the team. Her childhood was no stranger to empty, cold mornings, void of anything resembling nurture or care. Team Epsilon, among the other very large and obnoxious and obscure reasons why she loved them, was definitely such a different experience to anything she had ever known at home. The willingness of teammates to actually engage in conversations (sometimes) was something that filled her heart with joy. The patience of her teammates to sit with her and let her grill them with random questions was something that she cherished deeply. The kindness of her teammates to even just keep her around is something that she never ever takes for granted. Andi had never experienced the group dynamic that exists here, but she knew that she was probably a bit too emotionally attached. Some people definitely view it as work, but even their definition of work beat any sort of family dynamic that Andi had left behind.
xxxxxx "Anyway anyway, what's the deal this-" she paused to look at the clock on the wall, "Morning? Where is everyone?" She sat back, balancing haphazardly on the two rear chair legs. Of course, if she had given herself just a moment more in the hallway, she could have probably deduced the residual energy of the room and come to her own conclusions. But, as mentioned before, the trailsman often moved quickly when distracted. Andi's fingers were rhythmically strumming against the tabletop as her eyes scanned the room once more. Everything was still in the same place as it had been when she retired for the night. Remote by the arm chair, curtain drawn half way, four books stacked neatly on the coffee table. Turning to Joel now, Andi Elcott offered one of her signature smiles, the kind that leaves you feeling as if she had wrapped her arms around you and asked you how your day was. Honey irises were glittering as her new focus was in full view. "I hope you had a pleasant evening last night, Joel, because from what I remember you disappeared waay too early. And without saying goodnight! The audacity! I couldn't sleep and it was definitely because I didn't get my goodnight from you, Joel." Andi uttered, feigning offense. She turned to Cyrus, gesturing to Joel with her thumb. "This guy thinks he's too good for good night. Some people." she muttered out of the side of her mouth, her gaze flickering with humor. The odds of Cyrus even acknowledging her were low, but never zero.
xxxxxxDeciding to move quickly from her comment, as to not give the lieutenant any extra time to devise a scalding remark, Andi changed the subject. "Sooooooo," the trailsman pushed her plate away and leaned into the table. "I think the new leader is here, if my senses are even the least bit trustworthy." her voiced lowered, as she was being careful not to have her sentence detected by any intruding ears. "I'm willing to bet that a meeting is called. It would probably be wise to exercise some sense of control quickly." Andi nonchalantly leaned back in her chair again, fingers strumming once more. "Just you wait. Maybe we will even get to go do something today." she stated longingly, knee bouncing under the table. What Andi would do for a task. Of course, her dull headache served as a reminder of the night she had endured, and her tracking would be kind of a wild card. A thought occurred to her, although she had a feeling it was too good to be true. Would exhaustion force her brain to slow down and only zone in on the important details? Doubtfully, Andi sighed and her gaze lingered on the pot of coffee just out of her reach. Then, after glancing at the clock on the wall for the fourth time, a cheshire grin spread across the trailsman's features. "Hey, any chance either of you would give me a cup of coffee?"