* THUNDER / storm .

❛   you're a tornado with   pretty   eyes and  a  HEARTBEAT . ───────────── ALISA SAVAGE . as penned by amanda.

[wahgifs]

[alisuhs]

*      /      macdonald,   m.

when mary was not at an order safehouse, she was at work. she didn’t sleep much, drank coffee as if her life depended on it and kept her mind moving. she was running, by putting in more work than she had to, by keeping herself occupied at any given time. it worked, but she was fragile, high-strung, easily pushed over the edge. it only took a comment, a few wrong words to tick her off. it’d been an older ministry employee that had done it that day, with his whispers on the deaths of her fellow order members. she’d erased herself from the situation, left the line in the cafeteria and turned on her heel. she couldn’t snap at him. and so she’d stomped back to the dmle, crashing into alisa’s ( @alisuhs ) office after knocking. “permission to rant?,” she asked, wishing she’d stayed in that line to get her coffee. “also, i finished up my report on that muggle family, was about to bring it to you but —” she shook her head. “that’s where the ranting comes in.” mary felt shame rise to her cheeks, suddenly. “sorry, d’you have the time? kick me the hell out if you want to. or rant to me, if you want to, floor’s yours.”

alisa swears as room - temperature coffee is knocked off the edge of her desk.      it splashes across the hardwood floor and just narrowly grazes a box of case files at her feet                   thankfully they remain untouched,   but it’s enough of an inconvenience that she halts her work.      pauses,   fingers rubbing wearily at her temples as she contemplates the merits of a walk.      or going somewhere where she can just scream into empty silence.      anything to let out the growing,   stewing emotions that gripped at her.      alisa’s taking in a breath,   biting her tongue,   when her door is shoved open by a whirlwind of dark hair and high energy.      ❝    i hear enough of my own voice,   believe me.    ❞      alisa waves mary on,   opening the room to her.      she waves her wand towards the spill on the floor and paper towels begin moving of their own accord to clean the mess.      as she turns back to the younger witch,   it’s as if her previous moment of frustration has disappeared                   bottled and put to the side.      it’s a reminder that she doesn’t have time to falter when other people needed her composed.      level headed.      steady so they don’t have to be.      ❝    permission granted.      what’s going on ?     ❞

[flehtcher]

incorrect maraudrs quotes 1/??: the mystery of the broken coffee pot.      featuring: @alaslor, @lcvecatching, @ofalvces, @ppettmegrew, @daisyborn, @inthemeadowes, @alisuhs. 

[alisuhs]

*      /      mackenna,   l.

thing was, he didn’t mourn. he didn’t know how. he’d never had the time to learn. the way he grew up, if you stopped to do it you were already dead. but what he did know how to do was how to survive. how to push everything aside to get to the finish line of the day. so that’s what he did. he moved through the day, doing emotional damage control for those choosing to spend their mourning about the confines of the order with an objective, detached hand. he wasn’t much of a psychologist either. and then it was night. the sun had gone down and he’d survived the day, even as drained from it as he felt. though he wasn’t about to show it, let himself falter.

there weren’t many people left about the order now, just those that had nowhere else to go. like him. like his sister, too afraid to go back to the walls of their own home as remote as it was. they were survivors. they were just being safe. he took to wandering the halls for a while- the entirety of the building was filled with far too much sorrow to sleep through it. which is how he found himself stopped in one of the only doorways still lit.

“ save it. you aren’t my mum, ” he said, walking deeper into the room and leaning against her desk, taking a quick look at the papers spread out in front of her. “ it’s a little pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think? ”

somehow,   a short laugh falls past her lips                  lingering somewhere between humorless and exhaustion.      alisa’s eyes,   typically razor sharp,   can’t seem to focus as she tries to keep examining the files.     the ink on the paper seems to bleed until the words are incomprehensible and the images blur into shifting,   writhing colors.      she’d blame her new company with it’s subtle irish lilt,   but she knows it’s just her.      she can’t seem to get the scene out of her mind.      the overturned furniture,   the blood,   the burns marring the wall from ricocheting curses,   the twisted display of violence that                   merlin.      she swallows back the regret twisting in her chest.      compartmentalize.      lock it up.      because if you don’t,   you might just lose your damn mind.

❝    never said i wasn’t a hypocrite.     ❞      the blonde finally looks up,   sighing softly as she leans back.      ❝    just said you ought to get some sleep.     ❞      liam mackenna and his knack for appearing up when she least wanted an audience.      or maybe he just saw something she didn’t                   something that said one or both of them needed the company.      ❝    y’look like hell.     ❞

[haybalemaze]

[alisuhs]

hours have passed since she returned to headquarters.      the meetings have long since ended,   but the blonde is still working.      strategy and organization was always easier than dwelling on the problems at hand and                   maybe that was her problem.      she never allowed herself to sit and cope.      she just worked.      (  her last conversation with sturgis resurfaces somewhere on the backburner ;   you think like a general . . . but we are not an army, alisa.      she doesn’t allow herself to feel the grief that claws at the cage of her ribs,   desperate for some sort of release.      they were only in their twenties,   barely even adults themselves.      the order of the phoenix was built up to be some sort of beacon of hope,   but was it no more than a children’s crusade ?  )      light footsteps  ( @liammackenna )  sound from somewhere behind the witch,   but dark irises don’t shift from the files splayed out before her.      ❝    you should head out.      get some sleep.      you all need it.     ❞

[alisuhs]

*      /      moody,   a.

silence weighed heavy in the room. every meeting he’d had since the previous night lead to that silence, crushing down the people, weighing on their shoulders. it was never easy to plan for the future after losses to the order, and oh, how they had many, but after such a recovery, losing two members was a deep blow. beyond grief, it reminded everyone of the targets burned on their backs, and how exactly could he comfort people back from that ? “ sturgis podmore and benjy fenwick have been killed. they were found at their homes, so our first step is to rework all protection spells for everyone’s, and if you wish, the order is ready to provide safe houses too. “ 

she’s late.      alisa has never been late,   never missed a meeting,   but as she slips into the grief - laden room,   it’s all too clear why.      aurors had been some of the first on scene following the discovery of the bodies and alisa                   she feels like her blood has run cold.      after all that talk about doing everything in her power,   and she still couldn’t protect the two of them.      it makes her wonder who could be next.      these kids lining up for war . . . she wishes she could just send them all home.      but it’s not her call.      ❝    whatever it takes to ensure your all’s safety,   we’ll be doing it.     ❞      it’s all she offers as she settles into the empty seat between alastor and kingsley.      it’s all she can say.      especially when the words feel empty,   hollow,   on the tip of her tongue.

[pocketgalaxies]

[alisuhs]

*      /      podmore,   s.

“ there are other ways to do this. don’t bullshit me, alisa, you know it. it’s your job to know it. “ every time he raised his concerns, they were ignored - we are above the law, sturgis. we do what aurors can’t, sturgis. this is the most effective way. now, the order had just taken the final step, asked one thing too much. alisa happened to be the one in charge of that specific mission and, sadly, the one to face his frustration. “ will you, really ? because you seem pretty comfortable with this. as does everyone. you do realise that this war will end someday, and we’re ALL going to have to carry on. i’d like to sleep at night after this. “ he exhaled, bringing himself back to a calmer composure, an apologetic look in his eyes, but he wouldn’t say a thing. his brutal honesty was his mark, and he wouldn’t hide it. 

despite the anger that sparks in the pit of her stomach,   alisa remains calm.      you seem pretty comfortable with this.      her heart breaks at that.      she’s been called a lot of things in her line of work                   cold,   uptight,   harsh                   but complacent has never been one of them.      as if she could ever be at ease with the line of ghosts trailing behind her,   reminders of the numerous times she should have been one of them.      tone is sharp when she responds.      ❝   none of us are comfortable with any of this.      but you’re right,   it is my job to know the options and the risks,   and it’s childish of you to think i haven’t considered as many as i possibly can.      i’m doing everything in my power,   sturgis,   so you either take my word for it,   or you don’t.    ❞       shoulders lift in a shrug,   a wordless up to you.      there’s a moment where she takes a deep breath                   in   /   out ;    as if she can will her own frustrations away                   before her voice softens.      before eyes melt from s t o n e,   into something more tired.      ❝    for your sake,   when this is all over,   i really hope you can.      i want you to be able to live with the choices you make and not regret any of them.      but sometimes,   for the sake of other people,   it’s not so black and white.    ❞

[captainsamerica]

[bellamyhalpert]

[alisuhs]

*      /      podmore,   s.

“ no. “ that was how he decided to start the conversation, walking back into the meeting room at the order’s hq only seconds after leaving. “ i can’t do it. “ honesty, in a rare but urgent form. “ st. mungo’s was a fucking shit show, i know, but all these missions are either suicidal or sin makers and i can’t agree with that. “ this was often sturgis’ reaction to most meetings. his commitment to the order was highly impacted by his moral code, but especially with the latest events, and the sudden need for everyone to be a little more aggressive, a little more intense. “ you can find someone else for my place in my missions, or send a letter to dumbledore or i don’t give a shit, but no. tell that to whoever needs to take care of this. “ // @alisuhs 

she wishes she could say she was surprised by sturgis’ reappearance.      but frankly,   she’s not.      ❝   you mean you won’t do it.      or you don’t want to.    ❞       alisa finally lifts her gaze from the papers spread before her,   leveling on the journalist before her.      ❝    don’t get me wrong,   sturgis,   i admire your morality,   but these missions do all serve a purpose.     ❞      suicidal.      as if they didn’t have five different contingency plans in place at any moment to try and ensure everyone’s safety.      as if they would ever send any of them out into the field without backup plans lettered a through z.      ❝    but i hear your concerns and i can take your issues with these plans to the others,   i can’t promise anything,   but i’ll see what i can do for you.    ❞

[alisuhs]

*      /      moody,   a.

“ what if this comes to bite us back later ? “ the concerns were expressed in low volume, intimate in their nature, rserved for only alisa’s ears in that corner of the largest meeting room at headquarters. around them the sounds of chatter were deafening, laughter mixed in the middle as well, no one would say only a couple of weeks earlier they’d been regrouping there, counting their losses. such a stark contrast left a bitter taste in his mouth. “ it’s too soon to be chanting victory. i don’t want them, “ when the hell had he turned into some sort of leader, with a strict dividion between him and the rest of the group, “ to fall from that high. “ // @alisuhs

for a moment,   it doesn’t sound like they’re at war.      alisa wishes she could forget,   even for a night,   but their laughter and chatter                    it’s as if they’re all blurring together to create damaris’ contagious laugh.      she could practically hear the girl’s voice,   with the accent that was both american and english but entirely her own,   telling alisa that she deserved a minute to breathe.      but could she ?      ❝   that’s what we’re for,   right ?      we take the hits,   we take the fall.      as long as we can,   at least.    ❞       she reaches to squeeze his forearm,   a smile flickering across her lips,   brow arching.      ❝    but until then . . . if you can’t beat ‘em,   join ‘em,   right ?    ❞

[captainwakandas]

[acecroft]

Nikita | 1x19 Girl’s Best Friend

[alisuhs]

*     /     moody,   a.

“ a little. “ he can barely throw that in as alisa starts spilling all she knows, so all alastor can do is settle in and absorb it. he’d much rather type this conversation, always quite uncomfortable when face timing ( something obvious should she look at her phone, the man constantly moving, turning around for better lighting, unsure of what to do with his arms and face ) but such was the alisa way and he’s long given up on complaining. most of the tim. “ my money’s on money as well. no one without a big budget could pull the things he does, be in so many places in such short amounts of time, the easiness in covering up his tracks.. hold on, “ alastor gets up from his couch to start rummaging for files. “ and i am going. y’sure you’re considering? would hate to see you lose to me that hard in public. “ it’s with ease that, even while going through a box of files on terrible crimes, he cracks a smile for their banter. compartmentalize. compartmentalize. “ i’ve been looking into him during my down time. people at the CPS don’t really give a shit until the police has something, so i guess i AM doing your job, uh ? “ not that working just a little bit outside of the law is that uncommon for alastor, but this is some full on PI work, which he must admit - he does enjoy quite a lot. “ most of what i’ve got you know already. he obviously digs the teatrics, “ he flickers through his annotations, collections of news and some unofficially shared reports and some maps, “ but is smart. so in daily life he’s definitely private, lowkey, because he knows it’ll throw any suspicion off of him. do you… by any chance have access to any autopsy reports? “ he waved a few paper sheets in front of the camera.  “’cause i got two. “

bottom lip is caught between her teeth as her attention flickers.      no more people are exiting the building and she watches as an employee inside locks the doors                and that was her cue that said tonight’s activities at the gym were over.      she got what she needed regardless ;    an idea of where the last girl was and what she saw before her death.      it was something.      alisa looks back to the camera and she can see herself in the corner,   barely illuminated by the phone’s screen and the light above her car.      hard to imagine what could be waiting for her beyond the streetlamp’s circular glow.      she hums,   nodding as she considers alastor’s words.         ❝   and based on how crudely done the kills are,   it’s safe to assume he doesn’t have a medical background.      unless he’s being purposefully sloppy,   but somehow i doubt that.      i did manage to snag a list of everyone who was at the pilates class the most recent girl was at when she was last seen though,   so we both know what i’m spending my night doing.    ❞       this time when she laughs it’s genuine,   and a teasing grin tugs at the corners of her lips.      ❝    don’t get cocky now,    moody.      your and edgar’s asses are mine tomorrow.     ❞      the grin spreads as he waves the files before the camera.      a certain something sparking in her eyes.     ❝    beat me to some of the autopsies,   nice.      you sure you still don’t wanna partner up in my end of the law ?      i’m working on getting some myself,   though.      think i’m pretty enough to charm the medical examiner ?      there’s only so many times i can convince families of the deceased to give consent before my own luck runs out.    ❞      tone’s light considering the subject,   borderline self - mocking.      ❝    his victim profile is just so broad.      brunette,   varying ages,   varying race . . . if i could find something else connecting them,   narrow down the pool and figure out his next step . . . is he random,   or just calculating ?     ❞

[aagent-carter]