évelyne mercier

40 | the french organization

[evelyne-mercier]

lefebvre-emilia​:

Emilia steps inside Évelyne’s home, stepping to the side to let her shut the door behind her. “I should have come sooner to say hello. Welcome you back to London.” Emerald hues glance around the place, noticing the lack of furniture. “I don’t mind standing. I spend a lot of time sitting.” She smiles at the woman. “I wanted to see if there was anything you needed help with. I’m on the sideline now. Trying to be useful in other ways.” 

-

Admittedly, Évelyne was a little surprised at the gesture, but quickly gave Emilia a smile. “No, not at all. Thank you, for stopping by to say hello.” Quite honestly, the older woman didn’t know how her return would be received by others but would have accepted whatever she was dealt with, but a good-natured welcome did bring her some comfort that her concerns were for naught.

“I’m pretty good actually. The reason why my place is still like this is because I’ve been out a lot,” Évelyne kindly declined the blonde’s offer for help but took note of Emilia’s specific choice of words. I’m on the sideline now. Trying to be useful in other ways. No doubt with her being pregnant, on top of being Varden’s younger sister, Emilia was being kept away from more dangerous jobs. As she should be. Still, with what happened and how contentious London was becoming, Évelyne understood Emilia wanting to do more. 

Every one of the French wanted to do more. 

“I’ll be sure to ask you if I need anything," she reassured before pivoting, “You let me know if you need anything, too, okay? I know you still run your shelter, and now more than ever, those girls need a safe place to stay. That’s the best way you can be useful aside from taking care of yourself and your baby.” Évelyne gave the girl a small smile. 

[evelyne-mercier]

[evelyne-mercier]

@elainahalevyx​​

“This isn’t much. Viktoriya keeps her favorites close to her, but the goons who kept a lookout were easier pickings,” Évelyne prefaced as she and Elaina approached the building. 

When Évelyne heard what happened to Elaina, she could feel every scar in her body burn as if she was reliving how she got each of them from the hands of the Russians. Though suffering under their thumb for such an extended period of time isolated Évelyne from those who didn’t understand, she didn’t wish for anyone else to, and it saddened her that Elaina did. But where Évelyne’s trauma eventually caved her in to herself, Elaina had her wanting to reach out and get her revenge, only prevented by her injuries and the family she had in the city.

While Évelyne admired those who wanted to keep Elaina safe, she didn't want the commandant to end up like her, consumed by the fire that was meant for someone else.

"Elaina, before we go in," Évelyne paused in her tracks, her prosthetic hand reaching out to the other woman's wrist. "I know this isn't your first ambush, but it is since...coming back. Let's just do what we need to do and get out." There was no point in telling her to be careful or be smart when this whole excursion already threw both out the window.

Évelyne raised the tank of gas in her other hand. "Now where do you want to start the fire?"

[evelyne-mercier]

lefebvre-emilia​:

Where: Évelyne’s home Who: @evelyne-mercier​ When: June 8, 2023

Emilia knew why Évelyne was back, more so to do with the war that was about to hail down on the borough of Haringey, though it was nice to have her back. There was a soft knock on the woman’s home door, a basket of baked goods in her hands.

“It’s Emilia.”

-

Évelyne’s focus jumped immediately from the paperwork she was going over to the knock on the door. It still took her two seconds to calm her panic at the possibility the visit was hostile—some instincts she unfortunately developed since her time with the Russians had yet to escape from her system.

It’s Emilia. The voice and name were familiar enough to give her comfort, but Évelyne still checked the peephole to confirm her visitor. When all was clear, only then did she open the door. “Emilia, hello.” She took a moment to look down the hall for anything. Clear. “Come in, come in.” Locking the door behind them as soon as they were inside, Évelyne gestured towards the sole available armchair. “Sorry. My place is a mess, I didn’t know you were coming. Please, have a sit.” She took note of the blonde’s burgeoning belly, the first time she’s seen it since Olivier told her the news. “What brings you here?” 

[renard-julien]

@evelyne-mercier

The city had always sat precariously atop a knife's edge, and the French had known it from the very beginning. Sharing with the Rutherfords was all well and good in theory. Until they eventually realised they didn't want to play nice anymore. And of course, that had been exactly what'd happened, and things had swiftly spiralled out of control since. Now it seemed like the least of their problems.

Because none of them had expected this.

When the bleak news of what'd unfolded reached Paris, his first thought had been the wellbeing of his ex-wife. His best friend was a damn close second, though. Even now. In the grand scheme of things, Julien knew he'd lost comparatively little to some, but as he glanced at the woman sat beside him, it hit home how easily that could change. How the distance made the burden of his concerns a lot fucking heavier now than it had done a few months prior.

"I assume asking you to come back to Paris with me on a permanent basis is a wasted effort?" No doubt. "Well, I'm doing it anyway."

[evelyne-mercier]

"It isn’t a waste," she reassured him, lightly nudging his shoulder with her own. Yet, the resigned smile on Évelyne’s face only confirmed the answer Julien already expected from her.

Had he asked anything else of her, she would have agreed in a heartbeat. Julien was her best friend for the better part of two decades. The bond they shared could only be built by being thrown in precarious situations, when their lives literally depended on having each other's backs. After the Russians bored her down to the last of her wits and kept her alive just enough to know tomorrow would be another day in their hellish captivity, Évelyne had lost faith in so many things, so many people that she wasn't the same despite being rescued. But in the time when she couldn't even trust herself, she still trusted in Julien, who stood by Évelyne and helped her as she put her life back together.

Ironic how Julien played such a vital role in making Évelyne strong enough to turn his offer down.

Paris was a refuge when London was too much for her, but with Aurélie's death, the tables eventually turned, Évelyne plagued with guilt and regret the longer she stayed away. What could have happened had she been there. Though it might seem narcissistic to believe her presence could have changed how things have played out, security and protection was what she had spent years training and doing—she would have done anything to save Aurélie from the fate she faced.

For the first time in a long time, Évelyne was reminded of why she clutched the life she had been questioning for herself with two hands.

"But I need to be here." London was where Évelyne needed to be if she wished to save anyone else she loved from suffering as she had. As Aurélie had. "Plus I already paid the deposit to my apartment," she decided to divert instead of dive deeper. "It's not as big as my first place, but the location is better." She didn't specify how. "You should visit when I'm done with it. Or you know, you could stay in London so you don't have to go back and forth to Paris if in case you want to see me."

[evelyne-mercier]

What are Evelyne's plans moving forward?

It should be said that Évelyne returned to London with no expectation nor request to be reinstated as second-in-command. Truth of the matter was, she left the post because she didn't see herself fit for it after her time at the mercy of the Russians. At her best, she believed herself to be a liability who couldn't protect herself let alone other people. At her worst, she was an imposter who only got to where she was because of who she knew and not because of what she could bring to the table. For all the times Évelyne asked herself if was she too good for this life, she never thought to ask herself: was she good enough?

Whilst Évelyne is in a much better condition physically and mentally since then, she doesn't want things handed to her nor sees herself as deserving of any special treatment just because of who she was or what she did, probably to a fault but definitely to her detriment. Plus, in a time of war, Évelyne objectively believes isn't the type of leader London needs right now. She's cautious, protective and pragmatic—the only thing she's leading people into is a business meeting. That said, she is trained in many ways that makes her an effective soldier, so she is offering herself at that capacity to whoever needs it.

[evelyne-mercier]

What does she think of Delphine?

Évelyne can't imagine the weight suddenly placed on Delphine's shoulders when Aurélie died and in an instant found herself the head of the entire French organization. However, Évelyne believes that Delphine is and has always been capable of leading at whatever capacity, including this. Delphine is smart, charming, ruthless. She knows the lines and when not to cross them. More importantly when they should be. Times have drastically changed now, and London as everyone has come to know it is getting disrupted. Évelyne doesn't expect perfection from Delphine even if it may be what expected for her, but she trusts that the Organization is in good hands under Delphine's leadership.

Mention: @delphine-st-clair

[evelyne-mercier]

Text: Év & Elaina

Évelyne: Order a pizza and pack a bag.

Évelyne: We're going hunting.

[evelyne-mercier]

FMK: Adrian. Julien, Varden

I know who this is, and I hate you for this (ok I actually love you but wtf):

F: Julien

M: Adrian if we're basing off feelings, but when things come down to it, she'd switch him with Varden for the K spot.

K: Varden

[evelyne-mercier]

FMK: Damon, Gideon, Andrew R

F: Damon

M: Gideon

K: Andrew R.

[evelyne-mercier]

FMK: Olivier, Jean, Laurent

F: Olivier

M: Laurent

K: Jean (This one hurt, and I'm sorry.)

[evelyne-mercier]

FMK: Adrian, Étienne, Laurent

F: Laurent

M: Étienne

K: Adrian

[evelyne-mercier]

FMK: Kosta, Maksim, Anatoly

Honestly, Évelyne would rather Kill all of them, but in the spirit of the game:

F: Anatoly

M: Maksim

K: Kosta

[evelyne-mercier]

etiennecanet​:

@evelyne-mercier​

The. sun was shining outside, for once, unless it was the last days of summer that were appearing right before the cold swept in. At least it was warm in the apartment. Étienne poured coffee from the cafetiere into two cups as he lazily checked the news from Le Monde on his phone. Even whilst away from home, he still liked to keep himself informed. London wasn’t going to last forever. 

Paris had been good, the three weeks he had been away for did a lot of justice. Meeting with his old soldiers, meeting some business men; all in all while convincing them to come to London. Not many wanted to leave their homeland, but a few meetings with him and a few deals, and the deed was done. Plus, he couldn’t complain when Év visited him. It was a nice holiday, away from all the mess. 

Gladly, the fight club did not cause much trouble, and there were some well-deserved wins. At least as much as he heard. But no one died and for him, that was good enough for one night. 

“There you go.” He said, passing. the cup to Év as he went round to sit next to her on the couch. “Now we can relax for a few quiet hours before someone breaks a nail again.” He leaned in for a kiss before simply wrapping his arm around her and pulling her in close. 

-

The aroma of coffee beckoned Évelyne from bed, a blanket she no longer had to fight for still wrapped around her frame as she walked out to the main living space. She found a seat on the sofa, where she watched Étienne make them coffee, and for no particular reason, she smiled at the sight.

Bliss. How Évelyne could have walked away from it all those years ago seemed silly now. In all her efforts to hold on to the past—in all her reluctance to admit that the past was exactly that—she had been willing to let go of someone who was there, someone who loved and accepted her for who she was now. Évelyne wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t accepted Étienne’s invitation to go together for an event, or if he hadn’t searched for her after they got separated.

Not that it mattered, because she did accept his invitation, and he did find her when he did. 

By some fortune, what Évelyne feared she had lost seemed to return to its rightful place as if no time had passed. Except now, she was more certain of her own place by his side. Careful with the coffee Étienne handed her, she smiled against his kiss, her grin still present even after he pulled away. Settling to a comfortable spot in his arms, she took a sip of coffee—with the splash of milk he would always add just for her—before she leaned her head against him.

"I doubt Clémence would call us at this hour," Évelyne joked, still amused over the fact Étienne had only met her youngest sister recently when Évelyne had him meet all of her sisters whilst they were all in Paris. "Unless you meant Laurent, then I’m sure he’ll survive if we ignore him for a bit. Maybe.” She laughed at the thought. “Kind of just want to spend today with the birthday boy. You don’t have that many of those left after all.”

[evelyne-mercier]

LOCATION: AU, PRVATE ROOM.  IYKYK.

"We’re going to need to make a lot bolder moves if you expect to make any headway.”

From someone who typically played it safe and erred on the side of caution, the words were unexpected coming from Évelyne, but it was exactly why she needed to say them. At best, they’ve had small wins under their belts. But in reality, they were taking as many hits as they were giving. The Rutherfords’ partnership with the Russians was giving the French a run for their money, figuratively and literally. And while Évelyne wouldn’t oppose any of the French wanting to get their hands on the Russians, she had to admit it was also making them lose focus on why they were in London to begin with. 

It was a dangerous position to remain comfortable in. 

“This isn’t France. Being persuasive doesn’t cut it here,” she continued. “The Russians are already busting our asses on the alleyways so the Rutherfords have time to play nice in the streets. What are you going to do about it?” 

[evelyne-mercier]

jeanpalfroix​:

Technically a broken jaw was enough to get Jean out of the Underground and to a hospital. But his pride wasn’t wounded enough to beg the Rutherford princess for release. The hospital could wait until the doors opened for the night. And so, Jean sat in the treatment room with an icepack held up to his face.

A smile would have spread across his face when Évelyne burst into the room….if it didn’t hurt so fucking much to move. He rolled his eyes and accepted the glass with his free hand before holding it up to match her toast. “To knocking the Rutherford boss off a peg.” Jean raised the glass to his lips and downed it as though it was water and not alcohol. “Which no doubt bought me a ticket to fighting Park or Daryani next time. To which I say bring it.”

-

“Okay Rocky, let’s get you back to eating solids first before you get back into the ring,” Évelyne suggested with a laugh before drinking her glass clean. “Speaking of, how’s your jaw? Are you sure you don’t want it checked properly?”

The hit Jean had taken from Johnathan to the jaw had been serious enough that if it happened to anyone else, they would have undoubtedly ask for the next trip to a hospital. Yet, Jean had already been expectant for his next fight, and the fighters he was eying next were monsters in their own right. Park Seung Hyun was a psychopath. Dev Daryani was a psychopath with a personal vendetta, against the French in particulate. Unlike Parsons, both actually fought in Lara’s ring for a living -- when everyone knew how beat another person into a pulp, sometimes the home advantage counted.

Évelyne wondered if Jean's eagerness to fight was simply due to the rush from his victory, or a need to put the Rutherfords in their place. "How did it feel inside the ring?"

[evelyne-mercier]

viktoriya-kurylenko​:

Viktoriya took another step closer, this time very much in the woman’s personal space. She was also acutely aware of what metaphorical line she’d crossed from the area were her friends were into the French area. It made her smile. She lowered her voice so that only the brunette could hear, though it was loud enough in the room that it was unnecessary. 

“I always keep my promises.” Vika lifted her hand, her finger resting under the woman’s chin for a moment or two, lifting her head up so the smile showed. It was where Maksim had landed the punch on Thierry and it was were the blonde intended to land her own blow eventually. The brunette was officially on her list. 

-

The blonde was close enough that if Évelyne wanted, she could simply get up and knock her head against the other woman’s and start their respective lessons early. Viktoriya was tall, but Évelyne doubted if the blonde could carry herself in a fight. Swipe the knees and she’s down like a stack of bricks. The thought was tempting, but Évelyne knew better about the consequences their actions could lead to and decided against it.

Until she felt the woman’s finger under her chin. That moment, Évelyne reached for the other woman’s wrist, with a strength harsher than what could be considered necessary. Though she knew many who would think otherwise. For that still moment, she held the woman’s gaze with her own, her look dead serious while her grip tightened around Viktoriya’s wrist. If it had been a game for Viktoriya, Évelyne was not interested in playing.

Swatting the woman’s hand away forcefully, Évelyne didn’t bother to keep her tone down unlike the Russian when she broke the silence with a warning. “Don’t touch me.”