A Blessed Unrest That Keeps Us Marching

Agent Salem | Project Freelancer | Team Alpha | A.I. Status: Implanted - Cancer

[agent-salem]

OOC Post

Going on hiatus for a week or so due to midterms and midterm-related projects. My apologies to everyone I owe replies to!

[agent-salem]

I Won't Dance // Concord + Salem

[agentconcord-blog-blog]

The gala was… Well, it was a gala. It wasn’t the sort of thing that Concord enjoyed - fancy dress, schmoozing, large crowds. Terrible as it was to say, he’d rather be getting shot in the leg again, but as he’d just gotten out of med bay, maybe now wasn’t the best time to be thinking such things.

No, it truly wasn’t. Though some things had returned to a certain kind of normalcy, the memorial service earlier reminded him of everything that had changed. Three A.I.s and two agents were no longer with them, and one of those lost had been a friend. Though he wasn’t about to drink himself into a coma over it anymore, the wound was still fresh, and that memorial service hadn’t helped matters.

Of course fallen soldiers deserved to be remembered. Of course they should be respected. But Concord had a difficult time keeping himself planted to his spot as he watched the service. It made everything feel so final. He, obviously, knew that Boston was dead, but the service was just like salt in the wound. It burned, it made him feel, and he felt incredibly uncomfortable standing around like he wasn’t effected by anything that had happened.

But Concord wasn’t one for hysterics. And besides, the service hadn’t been about him. It was to honor those lost - his friend included - and he wouldn’t steal that moment from any of them.

The day had gone on after that, and Concord did everything in his power to forget about the service. He had been largely successful, his attention away by many other things, but he didn’t escape it for long. Heading out onto the balcony for a smoke, he saw Agent Salem. The woman was visibly upset and what she was upset about wasn’t terribly difficult to determine. Christ, he didn’t want to confront her now. He hadn’t seen her since the incident, and he just didn’t have it in him to be the comforting shoulder that she undoubtedly needed.

It was hard to admit, but he wasn’t strong enough to help her.

Concord wasn’t quite sure what to do at first. He considered leaving her alone, but something about that seemed so insensitive, even if he was. So he stayed, but didn’t dare to get any closer, as he brought a cigarette to his lips and lit it.

"I hadn’t seen you for a while, Agent, so I wasn’t sure what you were getting into, in all honesty," he said, attempting to keep his tone casual. It was the only way he was going to keep it together through this conversation.

[agent-salem]

Christ, this wasn't what she needed now. Not Concord, who had been one of Boston's closest friends. Not Concord, the respected agent that he was, who undoubtedly wouldn't want to be bothered by her state of emotional distress. She looked away from the Freelancer, her eyes fixing instead onto the stars above, perfectly unobstructed and seen so brightly from their vantage point.

Her senses caught whiff of cigarette smoke, and she almost smiled at the memory of their last breakfast together. Meridian was a planet she doubted she'd visit anytime soon - if ever again - and that idea offered some small kind of comfort. During her visit to the gardens with Honolulu, she had brought along the rose Boston had picked for her the morning before the assault on the Equinox. Along with the candle, she let the rose float down the river. It was, admittedly, difficult for her to see little pieces of her relationship with him simply disappear past the point of no return. However, the fact that she could 'bury' some of her memories of him and the past, on a planet she where she would never return, soothed the pain slightly.

Alas, there was only so much symbolic actions could do, and she now found herself digging through her clutch for a cigarette. The small purse she brought along for the gala held but a few items, some to be used for vanity's sake, and others for what were nothing more than vices. She found the lighter and a single smoke with a practiced ease, her fingers tracing over the engraving on the lighter as she pulled it into the light. All things considered, illumination was unnecessary. Salem knew immediately that the lighter was, in fact, not hers, but had belonged to him.

"No doubt you've seen this before," the woman muttered, the cigarette placed in between her lips as she lit it. She said nothing for quite some time, instead focusing on attempting to enjoy their mutual exhale of smoke clouds. Finally raising her eyes to meet his as best she could in the dimly lit area, she spoke again.

 "I'm sorry, Concord."

It wasn't a consolation as much as it was simply...the truth. She was sorry for not even attempting to come to their aid, despite being told that it wasn't her fault. Salem was sorry she had ever allowed herself to be put in the situation of losing something much more than just her body - her heart.

"Ah, excuse me, madame et monsieur..." A member of the waitstaff appeared from the darkness, his voice conspiratorially low. She regarded him with a curious look until he presented a tray with several glasses of Meridian's finest champagne. The woman outstretched her hand to take one, and sipped at it as the cigarette began to burn out. 

A change in the tempo and mood of the orchestra's selections stole her attention away, and she noticed several of the agents walk back to their tables as the band began to play in a more subdued, intimate style. Salem felt she knew the answer already, but asked anyway. "Enjoying yourself?"

[agent-salem]

I Won't Dance // Concord + Salem

Salem stared at the dance floor from the secluded balcony area she had discovered. The agents, for the most part, seemed to be enjoying themselves quite nicely. As well they should have, really, considering that this was their first true 'break' in quite some time. She sighed, completely helpless in feeling alone, tucked in a corner all by herself.

Her dress, decidedly black in remembrance for the fallen Freelancers, blended in with the shadows created by the curtains of the private area. There was something cathartic in watching her fellow agents in the spotlight of the gala's opulence. Happiness seemed such a foreign concept for Salem now, a boundary she couldn't push against, a distance she couldn't travel. The walls were up now, and, despite the beauty and reprieve of the city they all now found themselves in, only an act of God to knock the walls down.

She wiped a few tears away as she turned away from the scene, her mind turning to thoughts of happier times with Boston, wishing that it was him with her instead of her with her own loneliness. The sound of the curtains rustling brought her from her memories, and her hands went to rid her face of any evidence of tears. Too many had been shed recently, and this occasion was meant to be a happy time - not her own private pity party.

"You must think this is all I ever do now." She spoke, not bothering to look to see who it was.

[agent-salem]

[3intheam]

[belle-jolie]

[agent-richmond]

Don't Fear the Dark || Team Alpha || Ri, P, Au, Ca, L, A, S,

[agentatlanta]

It had been merely a few weeks. Atlanta was certain those in her team were still counting each day as it passed since the… incident. As teamwork went, Alpha perhaps didn’t have the strongest of formed friendships and nor did she possess the knowledge on each of their well-being. Did she ever intend on showing that a small percentage of her did care? Perhaps not. Not when the majority of them were simply viewed as other names which would only be added to the very list Sacramento, Boston and Scorpio were on.

Your secret admirer.

The very sentence grew repetitive and the only response she even had for such a thing would only be negative. This person, whoever they were, was not and would never be capable of taking the role of Alpha’s leader as far as she believed. It wasn’t as if her relationship with Sacramento had been anywhere near good, but she refused to allow a stranger who would simply judge each one of them because of several words on a file. This was a joke, and as the female questioned why the hell she was even agreeing to this, she couldn’t help but feel the surrounding awkwardness that each of them radiated.

In an attempt to gather some information on how each one of them was reacting, her dark eyes searched the familiar faces, passing the strangers that were now intending to work alongside all of them. However, as she progressed, a voice finally invaded the silence. And yet, she really wish it hadn’t.

"Oh hell yes! You all better step up your game and be prepared to have your asses handed to you!"

Atlanta moved forward, grasping the thick strap of the backpack before throwing it over her shoulder in an attempt to sooth the annoyance his enthusiasm seemed to create.

"What the hell is this? You guys act all emo and then as soon as Bitchmond over here turns up, you grow a goddamn spine. Oh, by the way, asshole… You might have been given the title, but you’re not my fucking leader."

Apparently, as one would assume in Atlanta’s case, it didn’t work.

"Good luck getting out alive with the devil over there, Cockbites."

The very expression of Unit Cancer was enough to get the female to move from her spot and leave the team behind, well aware that whatever Agent Richmond had in mind for them, she could do alone. And without any hesitation, the Alpha turned on her heel and progressed into the nearest entrance of the maze.

[agent-salem]

Salem stared at the piece of paper which had been wedged underneath her hotel room's door for the greater part of the day. In all truth, she had ignored it, assuming that it was some bill to be taken care of by the UNSC later on. Upon reading it, the agent scoffed, wondering whether or not the supposed 'secret admirer' - undoubtedly the new team leader - had been informed of the conditions under his or her recruitment.

Though small in number, the deaths on Alpha were catastrophic. A team which had once held the glory and distinction of being truly respectable, in terms of leaderboard achievements and actions taken during missions, was now gone. They were not a team anymore, no matter what the information on their files read. Alpha was simply a group of individuals who were lost, concerned, confused, and, in Salem's case, heartbroken.

She flicked on her cigarette lighter as she stuck another cancer-inducing stick in her crimson-stained mouth and read the instructions over again. Her thoughts on participation bandied between the two possible extremes until, in a moment of rash decision, she brought the flame of her lighter to the paper.

Consequences be damned, Salem was not attending the pow-wow session she was sure none of the remaining Alphas appreciated. Now, there were no consequences. The one thing she had wanted had been taken away from her, and she would live a lifetime consequence of knowing that she could have saved him.

[aseaofquotes]

Leigh Bardugo, Shadow and Bone

[agenthelena]

I…don’t think it was your fault. Even if you had been there…

[Helena stops herself before the thought comes out—if Salem had been there, she might have died, as well. Her presence would not have added another jetpack to the Pelican’s stores to carry both her and Sacramento to safety. Would she have left Boston’s side, even if he begged her to go? Not even Peter had managed to sway him from that ancient adage: a captain goes down with his ship.

By all logical accounts, Salem had done better for the Freelancers by rescuing Trenton and thereby saving more lives than what could have been lost in the catastrophe. And surely, Salem didn’t truly think letting Trenton, her friend, get sucked into the void of space was a better option than boarding a doomed vessel.

Of course, the bitterest truth of all is this: they were all going to die eventually. All things came to an end.

But what does logic mean to a broken heart?

She sighs softly, continuing to smooth the woman’s dark hair with her hand, letting Salem rest her weary head against her.]

Oh, Salem. I wish there was anything I could say to make you believe differently, but I— I’ve felt that kind of guilt before. Being stuck on what might have been, thinking if you had only done something different. All you can do is think…

[And that was the problem—she was paralysed by her grief, trapped in an endless cycle of dark thoughts and regret. Helena couldn’t fix that, but it did concern her that Salem had not been taking care of her basic needs, which only worsened her condition.]

Your body does require rest and nourishment, though. Can I bring you something to help you fall asleep, or some food? What’s your favourite dish? I’ll cook. I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to do anything. If that’s all right?

[agent-salem]

He didn't have to... It could have been me instead...

[Despite her best intentions, Salem found that her words were meaningless, only to be replaced by a lost train of thought or a simple failure to let the words come out. She broke away from Helena briefly, only to search her friend's eyes for some answers. The medic said she had experienced these things before, and hell, Salem had too. Yet, somehow...this time was different. And, no matter what she did, the pain was inescapable.]

Forever the medic and friend, aren't you?

[She offered a smile, albeit a relatively forced one. Smiling came with difficulty to Salem now, but she supposed it was an improvement that, at the very least, she made an attempt.]

I haven't had much of an appetite recently, but thank you for the offer. I know I need to rest and get some kind of nourishment, I just... I just haven't been able to manage thinking about anything else. And, I wouldn't want to trouble you with making something for me, so... How about we head try out one of Meridian's eateries? This one time might be the only chance we've got to actually indulge for once.

[philseymourhoffman]

[callmeorion]

What's In A Name (Sal-Orion)

[callmeorion]

I do not believe so.

[Orion wondered if he should smile. Humans did seem to feel some sort of…comfort from the act. Then again, perhaps he and Agent Salem were far beyond such shallow pleasantries. What was the point of faking politeness?] 

After all, the hunter is also the defender. True, Atticus Finch’s chosen weapon was words and the law, but then again—

[His lips curved upwards; less a comforting smile than a bitter smirk.] 

My kind does not have law yet, do we? It is still forming.

[Words were Orion’s chosen method as well. They seemed to elicit better responses throughout history than other means. That did not indicate, however, an unwillingness to do what needed to be done.

Mechanoids would have their freedom. By any means necessary.] 

Yes, I—

[And now words had failed him. Orion did not know what to say when confronted with the deaths of the agents. He only knew what he had experienced. What he saw. 

Grief was more tangible than he would have guessed possible. It had soaked into the ship, into the people on board it, like a disease. But not one that could be cut out or healed.] 

I was in Helena’s head, after. I…felt. What she did.

And Pisces…

[Orion shook his head.] 

I asked Helena if there was a way to take his pain. She informed me that grief did not work this way. I feel… Regret that anyone should have to experience that emotion.

[He turned back to the plant, hand reaching out again in simple wonder. Growing things, he had found, were his favorite. There was something so astounding about life in all its various forms.] 

Yes. I am enjoying it. There is so much to experience.

[agent-salem]

[He...felt? Unsurprisingly, Salem found it almost unbelievable to think of Orion as being capable of emotion. Then again, he certainly did show his passion for his name. It would be foolish to assume that his feelings didn't extend past that.

At the near-wordless mention of Peter, Salem turned her head towards him, attempting to search for a sign of any kind of knowledge Orion held regarding Peter at the time of Boston's death.]

I...I'm glad you are concerned for his wellbeing. How is Unit Pisces handling the events of the mission? His agent's death has...affected us all, but...

[Salem squeezes her eyes shut, wanting so desperately to make sure that the tears don't escape, though her attempt is entirely in vain.]

[aseaofquotes]

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground

[aseaofquotes]

Karen White, On Folly Beach

Submitted by chaeriizooo.

[emyliabryant-deactivated2016022]

[amarling-deactivated20200605]

[agent-salem]

Members of the OOC chat providing some much-needed expertise on the subject of a 55lb keg of lube.

[agenthelena]

[Although she had been willing to offer herself as a shoulder to cry on, Helena had not expected the idiom to be taken so literally. She’s unprepared for Salem to close the distance between them, for her weary resolve to shatter and break into tears—but Helena stands still rather than falters under the weight, catching the other woman against her. Unlike the last time she’d been drawn into close proximity, she doesn’t hesitate to bring her arms up and around Salem in an effort to console her. With utmost tenderness, she starts to rub her back soothingly.]

Okay. Okay. I’m not going anywhere.

I’m so sorry, Salem. If there’s anything I can do… You just say it.

[agent-salem]

Thank you, Helena. I... 

[And her voice falters once more. Her words seems to have become meaningless ever since the reports were confirmed, while her thoughts have unfailingly returned to one topic and one topic alone. For Salem, it's almost maddening, being trapped in the tempest of a single problem, and even more troubling to think of all the ways the problem could have never existed. The thoughts merge with the flow of her tears, and she finds herself crying - sobbing, really - into her friend's shoulder.]

His death was my fault. I-I could have saved him. I was... Everyone on Alpha was supposed to be on the ship, and I was the only one who wasn't. I...I failed them. I failed him.

[The tears haven't fully stopped, but the breathing has gotten surprisingly easier knowing that Helena - unlike so many supposed 'friends' before her - is willing to stay.]

I can't sleep, I can't eat. I can barely breathe knowing that I could have been there. It wasn't supposed to end like this. It wasn't supposed to end at all...