(( ──── ★. aion !! ─ o&a

[друг]

╱╱⚘ ╱╱╱ 𝙈𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙔 𝙊𝙇𝙎𝙊𝙉 ╱╱╱ 𝙎𝙇𝙄𝙋𝙋𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙊𝙐𝙂𝙃 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀
╱╱HUMAN ─ LOCATION 1978 > 21ST CENTURY ─ TAGGING OPEN ─ MENTIONED NONE ─ WC 1,033

The moon shone pale and silvery over the neat rows of suburban roofs, settling a blanket of false quiet and comforting peace around the shoulders of those still awake. A comfort of delayed pain, an absence of acute suffering, rather than true comfort. It would come again in the morning, the moon promised by reflecting the light of the absent sun. Mandy leaned out of her second-story window, elbows propped against the windowsill. The end of her cigarette burned as a bright, warm spot in the otherwise cold and washed-out light of two in the morning, and there was barely a breeze strong enough to sweep away the trail of smoke climbing out towards the midnight blue sky and its gently twinkling stars.
indentindentIt was the fifth anniversary of her mother's death, and neither her father nor sister had said a thing. It was a silence that told her they had anything but forgotten ─ it was heavy and stiff, far more harmful for Mandy's lungs to breathe than her sister always warned her the cigarettes would turn out to be. Five years ─ five years since she had come home from class to her parents sitting at the kitchen table with grave faces, although merely them having sat there would have told her something was deeply wrong. Her mother's headaches had turned out to be more serious than a migraine, and barely a few months later, she was gone. Just like that.
indentindentMandy put out her cigarette on the tile peeking out from underneath the splintering wood of the windowsill, next to a pre-existing row of blackened spots and the dying vine that had crawled up the side of the house a decade ago. She exhaled slowly, freeing that last inhale into the night. Below, greyish-brown fences and overgrown shrubs cut the suburbs into neat squares. A few hours earlier, it had been an uglier sight, coloured such by the sounds of arguing coming from the Olson residence.
indentindentShe had snapped under the weight of that heavy silence. It had begun innocently enough, merely asking them why no one had mentioned the dead elephant in the room ─ Mandy was poking at an open wound, just because she knew she could, and just as she had in the past. Some might call it acting out, but was it really if it was hardly a deviation from the norm. It had quickly evolved into cussing both of them out, slamming a few doors, and throwing whatever she knew to be hurtful in their faces. She didn't wish to be home in the morning and have to look at the uncomfortable aftermath displayed across the expressions of her father and sister.
indentindentMandy shouldered her beat-up messenger bag, slipped her equally scuffed pack of cigarettes into the pocket of her coat and descended the stairs as quietly as she cared to. In the hallway downstairs, light shone from underneath her sister's bedroom door, and briefly, Mandy considered knocking. But what good would it do? She wasn't exactly known for her sincerity, and an apology from her would be strange enough that her sister would cart her to the hospital for a brain scan. Instead, Mandy would let the argument fade into that congested place where arguments went when no one apologized, but you were still forced to live with each other and act civil enough, and although everyone would forget for a while, one day there would be an argument messy enough for all those past disagreements and fights to explode to the surface. That would be a problem for future Mandy to deal with.
indentindentMandy stuffed her feet into boots with laces tied in knots that hadn't been opened in a few years and unlocked the heavy front door. She was briefly blinded by the bright daylight, which greeted her outdoors instead of the cool night she had witnessed from her window a few moments ago. She expected the door to slam shut behind her and rattle the windowpanes as it always did, but the sound never came, which left her with that gross feeling of having expected something with instinctive certainty only to be left somehow unsatisfied as it never came. She turned around, far too unsettled to care about the argument any longer, and when the door turned out to be locked, she slammed her fist against it.
indentin"Annie, let me in!" she called out at the door.
indentindentA window opened on the second floor, and she expected to see her father, but it was a complete stranger. A slipper came flying at her head and she ducked just in time to dodge it. It landed somewhere in the bushes.
indentin"Are you completely wasted? You have the wrong house!" the stranger shouted and the window slammed shut.
indentindentAfter that encounter, Mandy had wandered down the transformed but distantly familiar street in a stunned silence. She briefly wondered whether she had somehow lost a few hours and wandered into a neighbouring suburb, but that fleeting hope of a somewhat rational explanation was dashed when she had seen the library. It was the same building, in the same place, except clearly somehow several decades older, and nearly all of the people walking in and out were wearing strange clothes. She had walked in and grabbed a newspaper, which had confirmed her subconscious and entirely ridiculous suspicion: she had somehow traveled several decades into the future. On a whim, she had flipped to the obituaries, which had delivered her the bad news about her sister. She hadn't even dared hope for her father to be alive after that.
indentindentThat's how Mandy found herself sitting atop the backrest of a bench across the street from the library, lighting a cigarette with slightly shaky hands. There were a lot of things passing by that made sense, still. Bicycles, cars, people — they were just a little different. Then there were the clear leaps in technology: the giant screens on the sides of buildings, advertising products she had never even heard of. The tiny flat screens people kept checking as they walked by. Not how she had imagined the future to be. Now, how would she get back?

[olyve]

𝘾𝙀𝘾𝙄𝙇 𝘽𝙇𝘼𝘾𝙆𝘽𝙐𝙍𝙉

location. flat, briefing hall, cafeteria tags. baker wc. 661
──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

5:30 am. he was dreaming of annemarie as his alarm wailed, though the name faded from his groggy mind in seconds. the dream did not, however, as he sat up and punched the "off" button on his alarm clock. a hawk-faced woman with a shaved head, a dark alley in london, the basement of a police station, dials and gears, jagged nails clawing at a desk. he rubbed his eyes, wondering how the bizarre woman still lingering in his mind's eye had died. there was no way she was still alive, there couldn't be. where had she gone, once he drove the whatever smithereens were left of her reputation into the ground before he fled to new york. with a deep exhale, cecil ran a hair through his salt-and-pepper hair, the tug of a smile pulling on his cheek as the dream faded, and the thought of what strange occurrences the day might bring emerged.

that hint of a smile immediately faded as he realized he'd forgotten to iron out that one pesky wrinkle on the back of his white dress shirt. it hung there in the wardrobe, practically mocking him, but he didn't have time to take care of it at the moment. he needed to have his morning coffee and read the paper. even in the days of computers and search engines, there really wasn't a consolidated bundle of information about a place like there was in the paper. it was very important for him to keep up with the obituaries, to make sure none of them were particularly young. obviously, he needed the news too, even if it was about the local elementary school's latest pta scuffle. fighting the urge to chew on the end of his pen (a habit he was keen to break), he circled the photograph of one molly holt, a woman only twenty two years old. it could've been an od, an accident - it didn't matter so long he looked into it sometime. all part of the job - and it reminded him of a less interesting, but more relaxing time in his life. he didn't miss not having automatic coffee pots, though.

after his morning ritual was complete, cecil wandered the many stark halls of the porton down complex, shined shoes thock, thock, thocking along as he went. the scent of grease practically assaulted him as he passed the cafeteria, causing him to bunch his nose. he hoped there would be a decent bagel amongst the frenzy of fried foods, a distinctly american choice for a man born in glasgow. in a short while he reached the briefing hall - it was monday, and the brigadier would appear in approximately fifteen minutes, should he be on time. legs crossed politely, he sifted through the contents of a manila folder towards the back right corner of the room as a small crowd began to trickle in, including alekall.

it seemed keeping an eye out on sightings were in store for him during the rest of the week. not cecil's favorite, admittedly, but it did mean that he could work with the scientific team, a crew whose company he enjoyed. normally, cecil would work alone if at all possible, but today an itch of loneliness found its way into his mind. perhaps it was the odd dream that drove him to crave an interaction with someone, anyone. rising from his seat to join the others in the cafeteria after padrac concluded the meeting, he opted to blame the dream, to blame it on annemarie. he huffed, as there was no bagel in sight, and refused to subject himself to the torture of a fry up. scowling and breakfast-less, he scanned the cafeteria for baker or warren. his scowl lessened as he spotted his egyptian friend across the room, addressing him with a small nod and a faux salute.

"baker, how are you?" he asked after he approached, smiling. "fine day for another wild goose chase, hm?"

𝙀𝙇𝙇𝙄𝙊𝙏 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙆𝙀𝙍

location. flat, briefing hall, cafeteria tags. deano, warren wc. 631
──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

elliot barker had five cups of coffee that night. had he any wits about him, he would've stopped by the general store to snatch an
energy drink, but to be quite honest, he hadn't felt like going anywhere. nobody really does on an all-nighter. naturally, this entire situation was his fault - he'd put off this paperwork from padrac for weeks, filling his time instead with clubbing, pubbing, and general enjoying life outside of porton down. luckily for elliot, his wide-eyed night paid off - by the time a muted morning settled over the gently stirring barracks, he signed off the last page of a hefty packet. yawning, elliot stretched after what felt like ages of sitting. he couldn't stand staying still for long, and it took every ounce of stress and focus in his body to finish the wads of useless forms.

it struck him finally that it was monday, and that padrac would call with weekly meeting within the next half hour. he sighed, placing all the necessary paperclips, folders, and binders in a neat stack he'd attend to later that day - the only thing with a semblance of order among scattered pencils and highlighters. strange that a facility as advanced as aion would still use paperwork, but then again physical documentation was invaluable at times. kicking his desk chair into place, elliot threw on a sweatshirt and a less grease-stained pair of joggers than the pair he'd sported throughout the sleepless night. bed unmade and hair barely brushed, an unkempt and uncaring elliot stepped out into the hallway, orange with dawn.

he wasn't late to the briefing, but he wasn't early either. just how elliot liked things - in a happy medium. he took a seat at the front row, unafraid of any looks it might garner him. he needed to be awake as he possibly could, and nothing can make a person more awake than a healthy dose of self-consciousness. the scent of fried eggs, bacon, and sausage put a smile on his face, and he realized just then how hungry he was. he'd only eaten a granola bar within in the last twelve hours, and back bacon sounded like a gift from the gods right about now. he gave audrey a friendly wave as she trickled into the briefing room along with a string of others.

ooh, missing persons! now this could get interesting, elliot thought as padrac concluded his briefing. disappearances were one of the more entertaining aspects of working at aion, and elliot couldn't help but smile as he left the briefing room to pile up a plate. sausage, eggs, bacon, and toast. his smile only widened when he remembered that he'd been ordered to bring deano along with him for his next mission. to elliot, the delinquent was a breath of fresh air to the stuffy professionals and detached aliens of aion. sure, elliot had the fastest draw time in the nca at one time, but the two of them could definitely bond over the best way to hotwire a car. he made his way over to the loudest table in the room, teeming with hungry teenagers.

"deano! it's your lucky day - you're with me," he said, clapping the younger man on the back. he stunk of that cologne he put too much on, but so long as he was entertaining, elliot didn't mind. "and maybe warren, if he's alright with it," he added, jabbing his thumb towards the advisor stuffing his face across the way. "we'll head out soon as you're done, meet me at the west entrance."

passing the field operatives table for a moment, he sought out warren at his assigned table. he gave the boy a childish noogie on the head, asking him "warren, come with me n' deano this time around?"

[sammy,]

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐞 ！！ x─────ix ★
x──────i ii apprentice. iii human. iiii tags: elliot, warren (mentioned).
ivi cafeteria.

the breakfast was that fit for a king, sating a very deep hunger in deano that he put down to a growing boy's metabolism when he'd get caught with his nose in someone's fridge. his plate had been piled high, and as he looked down at the dregs of smeared ketchup, the crumbs of toast, he felt mighty.

with his food finished, it was time for the socials of the day - conversation about nothing at all that would heat and grow. he was fully aware that the apprentices were some of the loudest in the organisation, and he was very happy to keep this reputation up. so as a debate about the best film in the saw franchise - of all things - got heated, he carried exhilerated passion through his tone, hearty laugh piercing through the air and resonating through the echo chamber that was the cafeteria. it was nice to laugh at nothing, to make his presence larger than it truly was.
in truth, he was probably the most useless of the lot of the apprentices. some of them were little geniuses in the making - some of them had already been upgraded to 'genius'. warren was one of those, in particular, the thought of whom had him searching the room for the familiar figure. he quite liked warren. there was something in him that reminded deano of older times, simpler times, before all of this -
he drew his mind away from that. there was no point. gone now, goodbye goodbye, and all of that. they were living in the present. a present that was collapsing, but a present nonetheless, and focusing on what couldn't come back didn't seem worth it. the fact of the matter was that no-one who had disappeared had reared their head again. it was all that he could do to try and forget.

the darker thought process was interrupted by a slap on the back. from immediate reflexes, it felt like a friendly action, and so when he turned to the sound of his voice, it was with a sparkling grin. "alright, mate?" he greeted elliot. "nice one, man. i'll be on it in a bit. need a puff. i'll meet you out there. no chance i can drive, is there?" he was pushing his luck a bit - the last time he had driven for a mission, his focus had been less on the retrieval of extraterrestrial objects and more on the proficiency of his handbrake turn. in his defence, it was an art that he had mastered - though maybe it didn't need four repeats to prove that.

the mention of bringing warren along was a welcome one, especially since he had been in deano's mind already. fate, he thought. or just a small group of acquaintances who could stand his presence. he preferred the former. it made things a lot more magical. "that's class." he nodded, standing as elliot left to return his plate to the crockery graveyard before making his venture out into the dreaded cold.

a rather harsh wind greeted him when he did so. reflexively, deano's hands went to his hood, pulling it up and over his head and tugging on the drawstrings to protect against the horrific cold. if there was going to be a secret base anywhere in the world, why couldn't it have been in malaga? or ayia napa? dubai, even?
the mental complaints were punctuated with the retrieval of a vape tank that he puffed on idly as his feet took him to the west exit, leaving clouds of blueberry in his wake. technically, he wasn't supposed to have one. he wasn't supposed to use it, but loopholes were a man's best friend, and so long as he, specifically, wasn't being sold his little stock of paraphernalia, there was nothing to stop him from using it. he adored the laws that let him do what he wanted, adored alekall more for turning a mostly blind eye to it all. it seemed that the brigadier had bigger things on his plate to deal with than the groan and crackle of a worn-out coil.

above, in a tree that had seen much better days, there were birds chirping and screeching, creating a cacophony that grated deano a bit. to remedy this issue, earbuds came out from his pocket and were put in rather violently, creating a new noise - a loud noise, with bass that would leave him riddled with tinnitus one day, and, pleased with this, he sat himself on a bollard, tapping the beat vacantly on his lap. he didn't know what they'd find out in the wilderness that was wiltshire's high streets, but he was hoping for something entertaining. a good story, that was what was meant to come out of today. if nothing else, he wanted to be able to have a chat about it over breakfast the next morning.

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐚. 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 ！！ x─────ix ★
x──────i ii other. iii human. iiii tags: open. ivi courtyard.

the clock on his bedside read a solid five a.m when reggie opened his eyes, and though the night's dreams had been tumultuous visions of past lives mingling with present issues, he didn't waste any time in rising, preparing himself for a day that was never promised to be uneventful. a check of the news through his aion-issued phone before he got into the shower, setting off the routine that would send him to nightfall.
it was cold outside, a january morning, so when he dressed, it was in preparation for that. perhaps too much preparation, in all honesty - he found lower temperatures to be abhorrent, atmospheres that drove stakes of discomfort in between his ribs, leaving him aching all over. waking up before dawn may have exacerbated the issue of the chill, but it wasn't something that he was willing to change for the sake of his own comfort.

with his shoes pulled on and his cane in hand, he was out of his flat by half-past six. he had been lucky, in a sense, to have been given one of the ground floor accommodations. though he would not have been averse to figuring out his way down a set of stairs, it made things much easier when everything came down to it. little things like that made his work at aion feel a lot more homely.
and on work - there wasn't much to be done for him. reggie was an unusual case, one that couldn't really provide something of use to the organisation, but also couldn't viably live a 'normal' life. like a lion who had spent its life in captivity, he had to remain in his enclosure for the sake of his own sanity.

that didn't mean that he didn't have responsibilities, though - quite the opposite. in a search for something to do, he had defaulted to the thing that he had known rather well, and the thing that hadn't evolved too much over the millennia that he had missed. upon being intercepted by the brigadier after his meltdown in cardiff city centre, he had been brought back back to porton down, and as they sorted out the rosetta implant that would have him capable of understanding and communicating with everyone without the slog of learning a brand new language, he found solace with the creatures that were kept in the vaults, reptiles and birds and things without real classification, creatures that were far from home and could not communicate, and took the charge of looking after them.

this was what he was on his way to do. there was a lift in the main building that took him to the basement, a vast underground structure that had rather well-made enclosures for the creatures, his favourite being the pteranodon who swooped and dipped and screeched whenever he arrived, free to soar across the length of the large chamber. she did not disappoint this morning as he turned on the ambient, false daylight, and reggie smiled. "good morning, rhea," he murmured, rushing the fridge to retrieve a chicken breast that, once unwrapped from its foil, was thrown into the centre of the room. she wasted no time in eating.

the rest were a simpler task. the large room was split into two, the left holding carnivores, the right holding herbivores, and at the far end, a select few who weren't very particular about what they ate, so long as they were eating it. his presence brought a noise that could have woken the dead, the sound of little bodies smacking against glass enclosures, and he got to work on feeding - first drifting toward gizmo, apparently one of the first of aion's false zoo, named after one of the gremlins due to a rather uncanny resemblance. the reference was lost on reggie, but he liked the little man anyway, pouring kibble into his bowl and venturing to give the top of his head a little scratch.
this process continued for the next two hours, though some of it was spent cleaning and clearing up, checking for strange behaviours - things that would suggest illness, the like - or simply just having little, one-sided conversations with his prodigies. once he was finished and they were satisfied with the feed, they were happily silent. rhea had returned to her perch, watching him curiously, and he could go back to regular civilisation. they hadn't had any alien bees yet. he wasn't sure what would constitute an alien bee, but he would have quite liked to see it.

thankfully, reggie had learnt time constraints, and when he finally forced himself back up to civilisation, it was around the time that everyone else was drifting toward the briefing hall. he followed along, watched the proceedings, paid as much attention as he could - which wasn't a lot - then sifted away to the cafeteria which sang songs of grand breakfasts.
if there was anything he liked about the future he had found himself in, it was the food. decadent and endless, dripping with grease and flavour, false and artificial, rich and hedonistic. it had felt like a mortal sin the first time he had a slice of cake, but now it was part of the routine. a happy one, at that.

he was a fast eater. quiet, thoughtful, pondering on one of the crimson reptiles' limps, whether it was the result of a fight or some form of infection, whether he would have to tell someone about it, and by the time that he decided that it was probably nothing, he was done, using his cane as a winch to pull himself up, clearing his plate and heading out into the new morning sun.

it was a bad habit, smoking. he had heard that when he started, but it was just one of those things. a part of a new life that had been so tantalising, new, and now was just a fact. in the courtyard, on his favourite bench, he sparked a cigarette. reggie hardly inhaled them - tended to just watch the smoke billow in the air, diffusing and disappearing. the birds were singing for the sun. his eyes shut. it felt like there was going to be a big day ahead of them.

[друг]

╱╱⚔ ╱╱╱ 𝙍𝙀𝙀𝙎𝙀 ╱╱╱ 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙇𝙇𝙄𝙂𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙀
╱╱HUMAN ─ LOCATION GYM > COURTYARD ─ TAGGING REGGIE ─ MENTIONED ALEKALL ─ WC 1,068

Thud, thud, thud. Reese drove a controlled series of punches into the cracked leather of a punching bag. The rattle of the chain echoed in the deserted gym as the bag jumped on the last hit, which landed harder than necessary. She had skipped Padrac's briefing — it was her third week at Aion, and two of those Monday meetings had been quite enough to give her the gist of what she had been brought on to do. Besides, she was much more of an independent operator than someone who needed to bring the entire team together and pick their brains to form a useful thought of her own, and she had gotten the same impression from at least one of the others in the intelligence branch, or whatever the brigadier had called it.
indentindentInstead, it had provided her with an opportunity to work up a healthy sweat for the first time since the entire Scoria Syndicate catastrophe. Reese had known someone was onto her — of course she had — and it wasn't that unusual. The meatheads that the Syndicate used to actually carry out the robberies tended to leave behind stragglers, and it wouldn't be much of a struggle to understand how they could never have planned something of that scale. There were manipulators, people far more dangerous and connected, behind the expendable ones. But she hadn't expected for this Anderson to have as much of a spine as he had.
indentindentReese began to unwrap her hands and stretch out her fingers. A curious smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. MI5 Agent Troy Anderson had set out to see her in jail, rotting behind bars for possibly the rest of her life, and she had slipped from that trap without lifting a finger. It was vengeance enough merely knowing how he would be seething, helpless to act against a decision from the vital and secretive task force. She could picture his face, clear as day — largely because she had seen it as she had been escorted out of solitary (where she had landed after fiddling with the locking mechanism in the holding cell). Solitary, nor the overall visit to jail, had been much of a bother in the end. She had actually stolen a glance or two at a few confidential manila folders just lying open on desks and gained some interesting contacts from the holding cell. Shame they would be wasted in terms of greasing the wheels of the world of organized crime, but surely a somewhat shady task force such as Aion could eventually make use of at least one criminal contact.
indentindentNow, what had burned far more than any arrest or Agent refusing to succumb to blackmail was the utter disloyalty on the part of her boss. Reese was merely another asset, but she was a valuable one, but she had spent half a decade working for Scoria. That should account for something, even if cutting her off and scurrying away had been a smart move on the part of her boss. She had been planning to sell them out to another syndicate for a while, she had just needed to tie up some loose ends beforehand. Perhaps Padrac had been wise to bar her from the position of a field operative: she had already used intelligence resources to take a harmless look at the potential movements of what remained of Scoria, and had she been allowed on the field, something sharp may have eventually found its way into her boss's gut. So what if she had thought about betraying them first? Wasn't the one who acted on it first at the most fault?
indentindentAfter a quick shower in the lockers, Reese was on her way to the main building and the cafeteria. She may have arrived only a few weeks before, but it hadn't taken her long to figure out most of the Aion staff. At first, a shared meal in the morning had seemed like a great opportunity to get a read on most of the people she would be working with, but she had already managed to grow bored of it. Then again, few of them were as shifty and secretive as her usual marks. Most of them were actually quite open for secret task force agents, but she suspected that was an effect of being on base, which seemed to double as a home for a vast majority of them.
indentindentReese rounded the corner to the courtyard, where she wasn't entirely surprised to find a man called Reggie sitting on a bench, his eyes closed and face tilted to the sun. A cigarette hung from his lips, neglected and slowly wasting away. On barely more than a whim, she walked over and leaned against the backrest of the bench, facing the opposite way to gain a view of the gate she had passed through and some of the pathways stretching from the buildings around them, which included the one leading to the cafeteria door.
indentin"Thought I'd step outside and gather some local intelligence, but looks like I won't find any here," she sneered the consciously contrived comment and reached over the backrest to pluck the cigarette from Reggie's fingers. She placed it between her lips for a long inhale, her elbow resting atop the arm folded over her chest.
indentin"No sense in wasting a good cigarette," she noted on the exhale, throat slightly raspy from the smoke. Her lips pursed momentarily and she turned to Reggie, inspecting the side of his scruffy face as if thoughtful. Her eyes left briefly to pass over the cane resting against the bench, then the leg with the limp he didn't seem to make an effort to hide.
indentin"Already done chatting with your little critters for the day?" Based on the casual eye she had kept on the goings-on inside the base, Reggie didn't hang much in the same circles as the brigadier or the other central figures of the operation, but he wasn't fumbling around like a newcomer. He had a routine, he didn't stop at doors to chart rooms or double check that he was going the right way, and his eyes didn't wander to his peers to seek for hints about what he was supposed to be doing. Reese suspected she wouldn't learn anything groundbreaking by chatting with him, but it wasn't as if she had anything to lose over it.

[shadowhearting]

𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑x𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐊x── scientific advisor

───just another day with aion. baker tarek was no stranger to the daily briefings as he'd been with the taskforce for a good while. he was anxious to get his grimy hands on the cafeteria food ─ his insatiable appetite had awakened him before sunrise (which was quite bleak that day, how tragic), but he was able to distract himself by sucking on a mint he'd found stored away in his nightstand drawer. things weren't exactly mundane, but they weren't exciting. every day was beginning to blend into each other as he'd found himself doing the same set of tasks ─ there was something that needed some spicing up.

baker fidgeted with his own hands as he listened to the brigader get on with the briefing. he'd be lying if he were to say he wasn't excited to work with intelligence as one of his close pals would be there. as he tried to scour for a familiar face in the cafeteria, it wasn't until he made eye contact with cecil, a brief nod was exchanged before he made his way over.

"baker, how are you?" he approached with a warm smile, "fine day for another wild goose chase, hm?" mirroring his smile, baker stuffed his hands in his pockets in an effort to soothe his anxieties before bowing his head to the ground.

"you know how it is, blackburn, it's one day at a time." he let out a chortle but quickly followed it with a deep breath before refocusing his eyes back onto cecil.

"something feels off, not sure what it is." he confided in cecil, perhaps it was the stresses of waking up early, "i'm doin' alright though. how are you man? i'm looking forward to be working with you today." baker's smile returned.

[Kveykva]

──────── 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐃𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐫

[✦] | apprentice | alien / tiefling | preparations | val's flat ➡ briefing hall | tags: open

The sun rose sluggishly, dawn clawing against the slatted blinds. Horizontal bars of a new day glinted on glassy eyes. Valerica rolled onto her side and plucked her phone from the charger, checking the time. 7:30. Only fifteen minutes since the last time she'd checked it. "I guess a good night's sleep wasn't in the books for me," She dropped the device on her belly and sat up, allowing it to slide into her lap as the otherworlder stretched her arms. Valerica didn't have the luxury of psionic therapy to help her sleep in this age, so perhaps now was the time to invest in a different method. The thoughts were mulled over during the course of a morning routine, one which still offered a sense of familiarity in this simulacrum.

Coffee. Caffeine; a socially acceptable drug used to combat fatigue. The thought crossed her mind to give the stuff a rest, but at this point, Valerica may as well sleep when she's dead. And that trip isn't one she saw in the near future. Along with an automated coffee pot that offered charcoal flavored lifeblood, the Aion provided flat boasted a single cot, a desk and reading lamp, an adjacent washroom, and the morning's paper daily. Val found it strange that they still used less than digital means to spread information to the masses, but she did know the value of bookkeeping. The sensation of the newsprint in her fingers had a vintage feel to it, though its contents were mundane at best. It was Monday; Mondays were important, she recalled. Val was fresh out of the apprentice course, and this would be her first briefing. A part of her wanted to skip it, dip on the meeting in favor of exploring the ancient sights of Porton Down, but Valerica imagined the organization who bundled her away so quickly after her arrival would not take too kindly to disrespect. After all, Aion was willing to clothe and house her, offer reeducation for the 21st century environment, and even adapt her own device to function as their more outdated phones did. In exchange, they kept her shielded from the public eye, for both their protection and theirs.

A shower purged the grime of a sleepless night, ice-cold water igniting sluggish nerves that her first cup of coffee had yet to wake. A soft-bristled brush styled since dried strands of hair, a wad of cerulean blue that nested two curvy horns. Valerica's morning progressed at her own pace disregarding the clock as its minutes ticked by. From the desk, she retrieved a bible; tattered and worn, but her own. Tucked within it was a list, folded thrice and filled with hastily scribbled notes. From her younger self, who didn't quite realize the significance of an hourly meditation in the morning.

"Be safe, sweetie." Final words to a photo tucked into an inner pocket, Valerica pulling her arm through the second sleeve behind fleeing out the door. The frosty January air did little beyond misting her breath, and even the light windbreaker was unnecessary for the weather. They really call this cold, huh. Some people just haven't ever been grabbed by a corpse she supposed. Valerica was prohibited from carrying weapons even on base, but she assumed it was a temporary rule in place until her full indoctrination. Still, she felt naked without her bestowed weapon at her side. Val shouldered her way indoors just as the briefing began, taking her place against the wall. Her eyes scanned the others in the room, and immediately she recognized Deano and Marley, other apprentices she'd met in passing. They were both younger than she was, but humans aged a bit faster than she did. Tuning back into the briefing, Valerica found she─or rather, her role─had been mentioned. Dozens of disappearances following a chronon spike; the words were a little fuzzy, but she was familiar with the gist of it: planar diffusion. The term itself held very little weight with Aion, but the experience was the same no matter what you called it.

From the sound of it, this would be her time to shine. The organization was a stickler for appearances, however, which meant the horns and tail had to go. The thought made her scoff as the briefing was adjourned, the spade tip of her tail curling itself back and forth into quizzical shapes. I'm certainly open to ideas. The brigadier─Padrac, she recalled his name─offered his time for those with questions, and while Valerica toyed with the idea, she decided to give it further thought over breakfast. Plus, she needed a second cup of coffee.

[Genesis_]

♤Location; barracks/briefing hall/cafeteria ♤Role; Medic ♤Tags; Alekall (mentioned), Baker, Cecil
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This morning, Jennifer was up with the sun. No alarm, nothing in particular to do, she just happened to wake naturally at the same time the sun was rising. It was her thing. She liked to watch the sunrise, and that was hard to do if the sun was already up. Her natural alarm seemed to agree with her and tended to more often than not wake her at the same time every morning. After a deep breath, a large yawn, and a very ungraceful stumble out of bed, Jennie made her way towards the shower, not bothering to check her appearance out in the large mirror that hung on the wall above her sink. She already knew she looked like a wild gremlin that hadn't bothered with its appearance in decades, she didn't need the reminder by looking at it.

Being the stereotypical woman, she made sure her water was hot as hell (quite literally) as she unclothed and stepped inside her large, tiled shower, the steaming water soothing her tired muscles from her tossing and turning of last night's sleep. It wasn't every night she had restless sleep plagued with nightmares, but last night seemed to be the odd exception. Her thoughts started trailing off, padding towards the morning briefing that was scheduled for the day. Jennie couldn't help but let a little glimmer of hope through that Alekall would have something for her, or the medics at the very least) to do; she could definitely use a day of distractions to interrupt the unscheduled nightmares.

It wasn't for another ten or so minutes that Jennifer finally stepped out of the shower and wrapped a baby-soft towel around her body, and another around her hair. Making her way out of her bathroom, she grabbed a sports bra and one of her favorite pairs of leggings with the intention to go on a jog before the morning's briefing when she noted the time. Gasping, she quickly dropped what she had grabbed, and instead reached for a dark orange sweater, dark tan plaid skirt, and a pair of brown and white converse, quickly throwing on the garments she had grabbed. She had spent far too much time showering (and daydreaming) than she had originally thought. Taking a brush through her hair as she walked around her room, she put her hair up in a simple half up, half down style before grabbing a small watering can, filling it with water from her bathroom sink, and pouring the water gently over the potted plants she had sitting on her windowsill. When she glanced at the clock again, she had just enough time to get to the briefing hall and find a seat before the actual briefing started.

By the time she arrived at the briefing hall, there weren't all too many seats left, and so Jennie landed in the nearest open seat, which just so happened to be towards the back. Behind some very tall people. Although, if she was being honest, a lot of people were taller than her. Standing at 5 feet, 3 inches, she wasn't very tall to begin with. With a sigh, she accepted her fate of not being able to see in front of her, and settled to just listen to whatever the brigadier had to say. It wasn't long after that the meeting started and Jennie's attention was captivated by what the brigadier was telling them. It wasn't until she heard what her assignment was that she started taking mental notes though. The disappearances were concerning, that was for certain, and Jennie couldn't help but wonder who went missing and why. Were they all adults? Were some children? God, were some children? Jennifer swallowed the hard lump that had formed in her throat as they were dismissed for breakfast. She didn't need to worry about this right now. First she needed to get some food in her system to provide her with energy for the day.

Standing up from where she had been sitting, she made her way through the crowd to the cafeteria, the sharp smell of grease in the air as she neared. Jennie scrunched her nose. She wasn't a fan of greasy, fatty foods. She would've much rather satisfied her hunger with a muffin, but it seemed that she didn't have that pleasantry this morning. Shrugging it off, Jennie forced herself to hop in line and get some eggs, a singular piece of toast, and a glass of water.

Looking around the large room, her eyes scanned for her dark-haired, meal-eating, friend, certain that because of the hour and day that he would be present. It took a couple of scans (there were a good bit of people) before spotting the mop of dark hair that belonged to her friend, along with the head of someone else who seemed to be talking to him. Walking closer in their direction, Jennie soon spotted that her friend's companion was none other than Cecil Blackburn. She didn't know the man very well, but she had had a fair amount of conversations with the man in question.

Not wanting to interrupt whatever conversation the two men were having, Jennifer trailed around, behind Baker, before taking a seat next to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm for a split second in greeting, a soft smile on her face, being near her best friend lifting an almost unnoticeable weight off her shoulders, and taking her mind briefly off of what they had learned at their briefing only minutes ago. She had arrived in a manner in which she hadn't heard Baker voice his worries, but had caught the greeting he had voiced to Cecil.



✷Location; barracks/briefing hall/cafeteria ✷Role; apprentice ✷Tags; open
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Regardless of what time she told someone what time she woke up each morning, Marley was not a morning person. Hated mornings, in fact. She hates a lot of things, but mornings are pretty high on her list. What she didn't hate though, was sleep. Sleep was her escape from reality. Asleep, she didn't have the worries and stressors of everyday life. In her dreams, anything could happen. So when a loud, harsh, beeping broke through the nice dream she was having, Marley reached over with an arm to silence her alarm as fast as possible, letting out a low groan as she did so.

Rubbing at her eyes, she blinked a few times, doing her best to adjust her eyes to her semi-lit room, sunlight filtering through the blinds she had forgotten to close last night. It wasn't another couple minutes until Marley finally sat up and swung her legs over the side of her bed. Making her way over to her closet, she grabbed out a pair of black leggings, matching them with a black, cropped, tank top. Folding the clothes, she made her way to her bathroom, and laid the outfit out on her counter, starting the shower up. It wasn't long before Marley was under the water, sighing as the warm water helped her wake up. Not wanting to take up too much hot water, Marley was out no more than ten minutes later, pulling on the outfit she had laid out for herself.

Too tired to care about her appearance today, Mar pulled her long hair into a high ponytail, and forwent her usual eyeliner look. It was Monday. One of Marley's least favorite days. She knew the briefings they received were important, but she didn't like hearing all the bad news they'd inevitably receive. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Marley stepped out of her bathroom, slipped on some socks and tennis shoes, and made her way down to the briefing hall.

Like many of the people around her, Marley found herself unable to keep her focus on what the brigadier was saying. Every time she caught her mind drifting, she had to pinch herself to get her focus back where it should be. So, when the meeting was finally called to an end, Marley couldn't help but slouch just a bit in her seat before getting up and heading to breakfast, her grumbling stomach seeming to agree with her current thoughts.

The tall girl managed to absentmindedly get through the breakfast line and grab a plate of food. Not in the best mood, Marley made her way to the apprentice table, forgoing her normal route of greetings to the few people she could call friends. Finding an empty seat at the quietest part of the table, Marley sat down and dug into her food. Once she had the food in her system and her morning training out of the way, she knew she would be much more awake, alert, and in a better mood.

[sammy,]

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐚. 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 ！！ x─────ix ★
x──────i ii other. iii human. iiii tags: open. ivi courtyard.

it was cold sun, but sun nonetheless, and when reggie shut his eyes, sometimes he could fool himself. pretend that everything was alright, that nothing had changed, that he was simply a child in the midst of the greatest imaginary adventure that he could possibly fathom. a dream, of sorts, one where he was not quite the hero, but another passive observer, watching everything move along without the need for his input. he liked it like that. it was nicer to act as though everything was a result of the elaborate workings of his inner mind, a gift from morpheus, perhaps. then again, he had never been a very imaginative soul. he wasn't sure he would have ever had the capacity to concoct such contrived, complicated events, to pull up words that should have never made themselves available to him.

the thinking did not last. it was interrupted by a voice, one which shocked him. a little jolt, remnants of a life spent reliant on such intensively honed reflexes. the source was not a threat, not yet, not to him - but certainly to the cigarette that had gone unashed for quite a time, now in her hands. "forgive me for the opprobrium, but is that not..." he pondered for the correct word. "rather rude?"
in his day, she would have been put to death for thievery. it would have been impolite to mention that, though.

it took that long for him to realise that the comment that joined her act of thievery had been one of equal distaste, and reggie came to the conclusion that the intelligence member had about as much sense of grace and decorum as friedrich, his least favourite shrieking dodo. her name came to him slowly, but whether that was a result of his own blindness to the people around him or the little rush that made his head feel as though it was wrapped in cotton wool was uncertain. reese. intelligence agent. a mental note that followed her around that said 'tentatively avoid'. he hadn't done a very good job of that, it appeared. no matter. he couldn't just up and leave now. she'd definitely catch up to him, and then she'd ask why he was walking away, and he'd have to think of an excuse, a good reason that didn't make him seem like a coward or a mimsy deserter or -
a breath in. the racing thoughts slowed. one step at a time.

"actually, it's quite awful. low tar. i thought it would be healthier," healthier still would be to ignore the blighters as a whole, but that was a sentiment for the birds. "you can keep it, if you'd like. i like the smell. it's nicer when someone else is smoking it." a pursed-lipped smile, an aversion to looking her in the eye, as though the former criminal was some apex predator. he should have been more confident. he wasn't. he should have been. another mental admonishment to add to the list. time at aion had him realising that he was much more comfortable speaking to things that could only chitter or buzz back. there was no risk in spilling ones thoughts and feelings to a pteranodon - unless he had forgotten to feed her beforehand.

as though she had read his mind, she mentioned the 'critters', making reggie raise his eyebrows a little. "yes. for the morning," he answered. "you're on the sightings this week, aren't you? are you looking forward to having to explain the concept of a discus to a conspiracy theorist?" it was bold and nearly qualified for a joke. perhaps he was more comfortable than he was letting on - to test the theory, he took a glance at her, but found that eye contact was near impossible. a fluke, then. a nice fluke. "you're new. are you settling in alright?" smalltalk was a pleasant option, a good gauge for the general mood of the place. "my first few weeks were..." chaotic. confusing. bordering on mortifyingly difficult. brain-haemorrhagingly stressful. "interesting."

[indigo']

————[✵]𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫|seventeen|apprentice|barracks ➞ briefing hall ➞ cafeteria|tags:Marley

Freya awoke abruptly to the harsh sound of an alarm blaring from her phone. She always set the volume just a little too loud, fearing that she wouldn’t hear it if she didn’t, and not willing to risk the detriment to her reputation that would come with sleeping in. She could be late, but only intentionally; only on her own terms. A hand reached out to stop the alarm, knocking her phone to the floor in the process, her usual careful movements lost to the clumsiness of being half awake. She groaned and made a grab for the phone, swiping the noise off and dropping her face into her pillow, taking only enough time to settle her heartbeat before she pushed herself up, knowing if she stayed where she was she was only going to fall back asleep.

Outside, the sun was just beginning to rise. She knew she had time before the morning briefing, but she still found herself constantly checking the clock as she got ready, calculating exactly how much time it took her to do each simple action. When she was ready, wearing faded blue jeans and a colourful sweatshirt, she pulled on her worn army jacket and a pair of combat boots and headed out of her living quarters, down the halls of Porton Down towards the briefing hall. She arrived precisely on time as usual, nearly down to the second. She slipped into a seat in the back, slumping down in her chair carelessly. Her posture was casual, but when the brigadier came in, her gaze was on him immediately. She didn’t need to be asked twice for her full attention, shrewd gaze clinging to his every word.

She wasn’t surprised by the announcement of more disappearances. She knew she should’ve felt something, at least a little sympathy towards those who had been lost and the effect it would inevitably have on those who knew them, but throughout the events of her life and the time she’d spent at Aion, she’d become desensitized to it, something she could only assume was a benefit to her already damaged psyche.

Freya headed down to the cafeteria with the rest when they were dismissed, following the scent of fried food eagerly. She didn’t mind the loudness of the apprentices table, it was nice to have some mindless conversation once in a while, to get riled up over meaningless things, raising your voice in an attempt to be heard in a situation where it really didn’t matter if you were or not. In the context of things, she hadn’t really been with Aion that long, but it had become her entire life now, and it seemed difficult to remember a time when it wasn’t.

She was excited for the day ahead, the prospect of going out to investigate the disappearances. Her mind briefly drifted to her father, to the immense pride he’d taken in every little experiment or project she’d set upon herself as a child. She wondered if he’d be proud of what she was doing now. She shook the thought away quickly, disgusted that the idea had even crossed her mind. She didn’t care if he was proud, she’d never been seeking his approval—quite the opposite actually—and it was irrelevant anyways, he was gone, and someone who wasn’t in her life anymore had no right to be in her thoughts. It was a waste of time and space.

As she finished her breakfast, and many of the others seemed to be getting up to go about their responsibilities for the day, her attention was drawn to someone sitting at the end of the table who had been a little less lively than the rest of the obnoxious teenagers sitting around and stuffing their faces. She slid down so she was across from the girl who she recognized as Marley, offering a small smile as she did so. “You look cheerful this morning, Sunshine. Not a fan of early rising?” The comment was innocent enough, could be taken as a simple conversation starter, a little friendly teasing, but she couldn’t say she’d mind if Marley took it poorly. Freya didn’t usually try to cause discomfort around the people she had to work with, but it was fun to get a rise out of someone, a small amusement that could easily blow over without consequence.

[harrington]

xx

scientific advisor // location ;; caf > lab > outside // tags ;; elliot, deano // wc: 1097

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ident likeabosswarren should've been more considerate about others near him while he was practically
absorbing all of the food on his plate - it was stacked high with sausage, eggs, bacon, and grease-so-
aked bread, but he made sure to stay away from the mushrooms and beans. protein and carbs were pr-
actically the only staples of his diet, anything that fell out of that category warren practically saw as in-
edible. as he scooped the last pieces of bread into his mouth from his plate - who needs utensils any-
way? modern technology let him wash his hands whenever he wanted! - he realized someone was app-
roaching his table. often baker had friends or acquaintances who approached the table to speak to his
co-worker, but never warren himself. it took a second, but warren finally processed that elliot was c-
oming for him, and not the other advisors at the table. he frantically unfolded a napkin from the table,
wiped his chops with a sense of urgency, and looked up to the man who was almost at the table he had
planted himself at minutes earlier.

ident likeabossren instinctively flinched when elliot reached his table and gave him a customary noogie
- something warren wasn't quite familiar with (or really understood, period). elliot was someone warren
considered a pal, despite the ten year age gap. "elliot, g'morning!" he greeted the field operative while
still trying to scrub the remaining grease off of his face. warren tried to hide his feelings of disgruntle-
ment when the name deano was brought up - warren wasn't incredibly close with deano, in fact, he w-
ouldn't consider them friends at all. warren found deano to be a bit of a nuisance, really; although th-
ere were other contenders, deano was the main reason warren strayed away from the apprentice table.
wayyyyyy too loud. don't get him wrong, warren's definately not the "shy and nerdy" type, even though
some may peg him as such. warren could talk your ears off for hours about life, as long as you were as
eager as him to continue the conversation. regardless, a mission was a mission, no matter who with, a-
nd it was either that or staying inside cooped up with the endurance."yuep, i'll go," warren replied, fl-
ashing elliot a quick smile. "meet you outside, okay? i need to take care of a few things first," he
put a steady hand on elliot's shoulder and hoisted himself up from his seat. "be a good man, won't
you? keep deano company," and with that, warren took his leave.

ident likeabossthe boy found himself wandering the halls of the building quite aimlessly. thoughts a-
bout what could happen today circled through his head. he didn't hate deano, no, deano was a good
guy. sure, a bit intimidating and loud, but a good guy nonetheless. warren had never really interact-
ed with him directly, although they were sent on missions together with a large group of apprentices,
there was never close-time to really talk to alastair. he hoped maybe that the other boy's rowdy exte-
rior would prove to be just a farce hiding who he truly was inside. well, it was no use worrying about it
now. he pushed the thoughts aside, and as he turned the corner into a dimly lit hallway, warren found
himself at home at the laboratory where he had frequently spent many sleepless nights.

ident likeabossthe lights flickered on with a dull 'dink'. warren squinted his eyes against the harsh fl-
orescent lights and looked around for anything awry - beakers lazily piled in one of the sinks, seven
microscopes lined up on desks just like he had seen in the highschool dramas elliot had forced him
to watch, safety equipment discarded to the side - nope, nothing was different here. the only thing
that was out of place was a bird cage covered in a towel patiently waiting in the corner of the room.

ident likeabosssome may call it genius, but warren just called it luck. he was far from a 'young m-
astermind' - just someone who had access to technology and way too much free time. of course,
science and biochemistry came easier to warren than most people, but that didn't mean he was all
of a sudden some mad scientist. truthfully, he had no idea about splicing genes at all, he really i-
ntended to just play around with the eyesight in birds of prey - some of the best in the animal ki-
ngdom - but he made an accidental discovery with a budgie instead. the endurance, as he had na-
med her, was no falcon or eagle, but she could do one thing that most birds could not: see cracks
through time.

ident likeaboss"good morning, endy," warren cooed, unlatching the bars of the cage. the endur-
ance, Melopsittacus undulatus, a budgie, was a small little thing, especially compared to warren's
- albeit gentle - massive hands. he clicked his tongue together to get her attention, and thankfu-
lly he wouldn't have to wake her. "you're up bright and early," he teased the bird with his index
finger, whom the endurance found rather insulting, as she bit him immediately as he stuck his h-
and in the cage. warren recoiled in pain - that hurt - and stepped away from the cage, door still
open, to allow 'endy' to stretch her wings. she immediately landed on warren's shoulder, signify-
ing to him that she was ready to go. "we're going to show them what you're all about," warr-
en turned off the lights, and stood in the doorway of the laboratory for a second. he just had
a full-on conversation with the bird again, didn't he?

ident likeabossthe soft breeze outside prompted warren to put on his jacket, after first planting
the endurance in his hair as to not squash her between the faux leather. warren saw a figure s-
itting down below one of the old trees near the west exit. he cautiously approached, not sure if
it was deano or elliot, as the figure had disguised themselves with a hood. as warren got closer,
it became clear that the man in front of him was deano. oh well, a little slow conversation would
be the least of warren's worries. he approached deano from the back, circled around to his front,
and tapped his ears to signify deano's earbuds. "what's the volume control on those things?"
warren intended it to be just playful banter. "we could hear your music from back there," he j-
abbed a thumb behind him, before immediately stuffing it back into his pocket.