Mischief Managed

"As soon as things become predictable, they become boring." ---

[isaac-moore]

Techie Two || Aidan & Isaac || 28/7/14

[qmwmemrntbyvu]

Aidan wasn’t a particularly social person, and while he was certainly aware of several technically proficient recruits in the bunker, he hadn’t tried to seek them out. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t welcome some sort of company, especially people who would eventually be working with him and who he had something in common with, but since Rin’s death, he’d tried to avoid getting too attached to any recruits. Not like that did any good, though. Between Darcy, and more recently, Nico, and even Daniel to some extent…well, there was no point in not caring, because it wasn’t something that was particularly easy to control. But, especially since the mission, he’d become less concerned about the people he didn’t know personally, caught up in trying to acclimate to his injury and return to his duties as a technician after several weeks in medical.

Today was mostly server maintenance, which unfortunately meant more movement than coding or other administrative work. The servers were housed in several locations, to prevent attacks and to prevent overheating—it was easier to cool down three large machines at once than it was to cool down nine or ten, especially when all of them were emitting heat and contributing to the problems of the others. So, instead of staying in one of the PC labs or working on his laptop, he limped down the hall, stopping when he nearly ran into someone. “Oh! S-sorry,” he stammered an apology, steadying himself on the crutch and waiting for the unfamiliar…recruit? he seemed to be one…to keep walking.

[isaac-moore]

It was the first time seeing crutches in Division, and Isaac was a little surprised at seeing them at all, so the apology sailed over his head as he took in the, well, sorry excuse of an Tech. The stutter was a dead giveaway, and although he had heard that Jonathan hadn't had it easy as well, he did not even closely resemble the broad Field Agent, so it was undoubtedly the person he had been curious to talk to. 

Why was he even walking around? Shouldn't you be getting more bed rest, or something? But a bad flu roughly two years back had Isaac knowing how annoying it was to lie in bed while the world kept on moving around you, so he mentally shrugged and instead took a step back. "Nah, nobody's fault. And if anyone's, I guess mine." He really hadn't meant to bump into him, and frowned a little at his lack of observance. Jason would probably scold him for that. 

"Do you need help?" Aidan Vice looked sick, and not in the way people his age said 'That's sick, bro!'. Perhaps 'sick' wasn't the best way, but he looked as if he had just gotten up and limped towards Isaac, his clothes as if he had slept in them and his expression not exactly that of someone calm. Not waiting for an answer, Isaac simply lingered with the Agent, knowing that he would easily be able to keep up with him even though he tried to walk away. 

[isaac-moore]

Vanity || Solo || 28/7/14

Characters Involved → Isaac Moore Location → The Bunker Timeframe → Four o'clock, exactly Wordcount → 632

It was sometimes unsettling to have your reflection as your only companion in the room, especially when the lights had just turned on and your bleary-eyed self was all you could find comfort in. Isaac yawned, stretched and got up, knowing that if he stayed too long lying there, the feeling of sleep got only worse. At least he had the getting up part down, he thought with the twitch of an eye, combing back his hair with a hand as he stared into the mirror. He tried to make a fist, but his weary muscles didn’t comply and his fingers fell apart. Studying his limbs and face had somehow also become part of his routine, and as he looked at his skin for any sign that his bruises or cuts weren’t healing properly.

There were so many boring parts like these, he thought dully, parts that he wouldn’t remember in a few years, parts that often weren’t shared with others. The times that you just sat somewhere, a few minutes after you finished your food, the ones where you were drying yourself after a shower. But mostly the times that Isaac hated were the ones he sat in his room, waiting for the lights to go out, or waiting for them to come on again. 

It was a moment filled with self-doubt that was very much like the time you spent lying awake in your bed, eyes closed and determined to fall asleep, but all you can do is think, think, think. It was as if he was making up for the fact that he had lost the hours that he lay awake due to the training that asked almost every ounce of his concentration and he really doubted that he could spare enough to think about the meaning of life if he wanted to before he fell asleep.

Instead, each day he would do his usual routine before drawing the covers over his tired body and then he’d simply fall asleep without debating whether or not he should have continued dating that one girl four years ago or relive that one painful moment back in Junior Year. 

That day, he woke to bed that that wasn't too bad and he thanked a person whose existence he did not believe in, because maybe it was a sign that the rest of the day wouldn't be so bad as well, although he also didn't really believe in crap like that. The lights had just gone on and as he pulled two hands through his hair to bring some stray locks back to their usual position, he checked the two cuts he had gained during training. They seemed to be doing well and he stretched, feeling and hearing his shoulders pop before he stood up and the slightly-out-of-sync pop came from his knees.

A few sore spots had been fading, but others were in full bloom, going from a speckled purple to mottled green that really brought out the green in his own eyes. Too bad they were mostly around his waist and legs, a few on his arms as well. He'd gotten used to them, and now their colours even fascinated him a little. Am I vain? Grason had answered that more than often enough for him, so he grimaced at the thought, but mulled it over as he stood in boxers. Despite it being full-blown summer above ground, it was still a little chilly there, and before he could really fall into a cycle of going over his vanity, goosebumps forced him to hurry over to his drawer and get out a pair of clothes. There was always the next morning with plenty of time to contemplate whether or not he should give less shits about what he looked like. 

[isaac-moore]

Memoir || Solo || 28/7/14

Characters Involved → Isaac Moore Location → The Bunkers Timeframe → Just before sleeping Wordcount → 667

Some agents had come down to the bunker with a slightly darker complexion, the recruits watching their only indication of the weather above grimly as the change was very noticeable amongst the pale and sun-deprived recruits. The change was small at first but nevertheless most of the recruits watched with envy as their superiors came down, hair tussled by a breeze they hadn’t felt and clothes loose and short for a sun they couldn’t see. It was a luxury that they did not have. The few agents that were sent to southern countries to carry out a mission returned as if they were not part of the pale figures that dotted the Bunker, fighting furiously so they, too, could flaunt the browner skin. It had grown to something more than it was, a tan had grown to a badge of your rank and others grudgingly accepted it. 

Isaac wondered if the past years had been the same, but didn’t dwell on it, instead using it as a motivator. He hadn’t gotten much of a colour while he had had the chance before Division, although he claimed to enjoy lounging in the sun when he could with Grason. But the white, thin scar on his palm always blended with his skin, proof to his brother that although he would accompany him to the park or anything when the weather was nice, Isaac never sought out the sun actively. 

When deep in thought and not before a computer, Isaac’s thumb would often trace the small scar that started in the gap between his pinky and ring finger and made a drunk path downwards . The days that Grason were gone his finger moved more often than he would admit. The wound had been inflicted on one of their earlier skirmishes. Their first few escapades’ only result was that Lysander broke his fast alone in the early morning while the half brothers slept soundly and a grin on their faces. He would still set down a bowl of cornflakes or bake an egg for them both which would be found with guilt. However, the night where one of the 43 surviving Fabergé eggs had been taken from a boasting collector, Isaac had stepped from his screen to join Grason. Inadvertently, they had almost left more than his footprints and the absence of a very, very small but pricey egg. Misfortune led to the shattering of a decorative vase outside, but the problem was that as the whine of an alarm sliced through the air, Grason had still been inside. 

He stared at the thin gloves in his left hand, cursing himself for taking them off when he came outside. Shadows masked him at the edge of the field surrounding the house and the shard which his hand has touched had been clutched tightly as his eyes took in the west side of the house. The sound of his heart beating filled his ears like it would when he sat in the silence of his room but  it wouldn’t be until he had reached safety he would find the red rivulets running from the cut in his hand. At the time, his fingers had twitched as if they longed to be with a screen. Later, the moment would remind him of the moment he had dropped his self-assembled laptop, the sound of something breaking filling his ears. But the feeling that had flooded him then was like a splash compared to the tsunami of fear that he felt before a dark shape detached itself from the hulking shape of the house. A memento to the moment would forever mark his skin, his usually careful care of his body broken in the moment he clenched his fists, shard still there. 

Isaac watched two agents file out of the War Room, their skin tinted a dark brown red and honey brown. We’ll get out of here. Resolve filled him for the thousandth time as he continued to walk down the hallway to Grason’s room. 

[isaac-moore]

Things That Go Boom || Rachel & Isaac || 23/7/14

[adamantexplorer-blog]

Her reason for being in the armory at this time of the day was not strictly because she was planning on doing any work for the profit of the organisation. Instead she was checking the supplies that she’d need for the plan with Emma that would involve the most beautiful explosion she’d seen in a while if it all added up. The tools however were only one of the things that they needed to be sure of before actually setting the devices up. That other part was something that the blonde wanted to put off until the last possible moment since she didn’t want to give Division the time to stomp her plans.

Rachel’s head didn’t jerk up when she heard footsteps nearing her but her body tensed slightly in anticipation of a possible contact with another person. The young woman wasn’t a hermit but the last weeks had made her forgot how busy it was outside of her room where she would be engulfed in almost complete silence. She liked being almost done with all the studying and testing for the moment but she also knew that she had been slacking off in the social department. Instead of looking for the source of the noise, she continued checking the ready-to-explode packs of C4 in the locker as well as the pack of detonators for possible signs of malfunction. Her position allowed her to have access to this area around the clock and it would seems weird if the cameras would pick her up acting weird all of a sudden. 

[isaac-moore]

Really, he had almost thought that giving up lunch had been fruitless for the second time this week, but as he checked a few rooms, he saw a mop of blonde hair in a corner, her back to him, and he did a double check on the clothes to make sure this was the agent he was looking for and not some random recruit that he was about to tap on the shoulder. But before that, he studied her from the door, hoping that he could watch her work on her project before he approached her.

She worked slowly, but that was probably good thing when working with things that could blow your head up. She was working inside a locker and the angle of the door prevented him from being able to see what exactly she was working on, but she didn't seem to be working on it, more than checking. Keeping his breathing calm and his attitude collected, he brought a light smile to his face and approached her, watching her body language react to his presence but she didn't turn around. 

"Excuse me." He started, raising his voice a little, knowing that high pitched voices came across better than lower ones. "Rachel, was it?" He had to make sure she wanted to teach him and that he didn't force her into this because having a reluctant teacher was very, very annoying if they really had no motivation at all. He took a quick peek past her before returning his attention to her. 

[isaac-moore]

Techie Two || Aidan & Isaac || 28/7/14

There was one agent that had always struck Isaac as an oddball within the walls of Division, and it was time he confronted said oddball, even though it was not necessarily for learning purposes. He was simply trying to alleviate some of the weariness of Division that had come over Grason and him (mostly him) and he was growing a little back into old habits in which he'd talk to people even though it was clear they did not want to talk to him. 

Still, he hadn't seen much of Aidan Vice these past few days, other than hearing scraps of a mission that didn't end that pleasantly for the people that had been sent on it. He was curious to hear the full story, but he wasn't sure if the Technician Agent would be able to retell it with the way he stuttered when he was nervous. And although he tried to lower his voice, come over friendly and in general make an effort, Isaac wasn't very well with coaxing things out of people in a friendly way. 

To the people he was talking to he often came across as a role model teenager the first few moments, before giving up on the act and turning into someone who didn't make friends easily. So, as he wandered the hallways, he didn't even bother talking himself into trying to be excessively nice, should he find the Technician. 

[isaac-moore]

Mashed Potatoes || Daniel & Isaac || 22/7/14

[d-knightridge-v]

Daniel didn’t really care where the food would land in, as long as it didn’t land on the guard. At the quick motion of events, the guards were left utterly speechless, and since there were only like two - probably thinking that mensa was one of the most dismal times - probably because of the food. They never in their lived thought that something like this would have happened. Truly then, they were wrong, because everything was a beautiful chaos. Different, appealing and well, apart from the shit they have to face later - messy as well. 

Taking up another scoop and making sure that he was in the clump of many other people he threw whatever he could, took a few more and then threw again. As long as he wasn’t too in the sight of the guards or whoever, then he would be safe - and relatively clean. Or as clean as he could be. One could hope at least! By the time of his nth throw - as he didn’t really count and after all he was enjoying - he was suddenly heaved down. “When the fuck did this become a wrestling match?” he said out loud despite the roaring of the other recruits. An “oompf” later as his back hit the floor, he opened his eyes and saw one definitely pissed off Isaac. “Hey!” he cheered, after all, despite seeing Isaac at times during class, they never really got to talk even after the flood, Daniel felt it was something a little bit sad since he wanted them to be friends of sorts, but then again - Isaac seemed too busy or thinking about something that Daniel could never think of anything to say. “I’m glad you’re okay! How -” and then he was slapped. 

"Ooowww" he started a small frown forming over him and then tackled Isaac back, pining him not so hardly with his legs. Isaac then, probably landing on something mushy or gooey behind him. "No fair! You had me as a dead-target!" he started before reaching up to smear some sticky rice on his hair. "Now we’re even." he said a smile starting again - maybe Isaac missed him somewhat that’s why he slapped him with soup, but still - he looked pretty angry for something like a "hi".

[isaac-moore]

The cheery face didn't necessarily make it better for Isaac but he did grin when he was sailing through the air because Daniel had taken revenge – he would have almost been disheartened if Daniel had just taken the hit. He didn't grin when the ground turned out to be harder than anticipated and he bounced painfully. At least Daniel was a person who resembled a stick with clothes, much like Isaac, although with the training regimen they both had been following quite some time, that had been changing. 

"Oof." The air rushed out of his lungs and he tried to shove Daniel off after he had regained his breath and getting over the fact that his butt landed in something wet and soft and he did not want to think about what that was. "Oh, so you like to be on top?" A wicked grin came onto his face as he wiggled his eyebrows before realising what Daniel was going to do as he spoke. "Daniel. Get off of me. Gettoffme!" The words became significantly more panicked and angry as Daniel smeared rice in his hair. He needed to wipe the damn smile off of that boy's face before he left. 

Wiping his hands on his shirt as he stood up, although it didn't do much good considering the damage that had already been done. Another recruit threw some mashed potatoes that clung to his back. Ew. But he was focused on the one before him as he scooped up two handfuls of mashed potatoes and made his way to Daniel, flinging it at his face when he was two feet from him, a triumphant look on his face. Guards were shouting at the recruits to stop and were even forcing some to the ground. Ah, crap, I need to get out of here.

[isaac-moore]

Mashed Potatoes || Daniel & Isaac || 22/7/14

[d-knightridge-v]

Definitely he was missing his own bunker. That place had cool stuff, even a library and a pool table when soldiers needed a break. There were so many things that could have kept him occupied. This time - in this godforsaken place, Daniel had no answers, no thoughts, no challenge and really seemed to be no point in anything possible. He was bored. He looked at the same people, went in the same class, ate the same way, and sometimes the same thing over and over again. Talked to the same people, got irked by the same ones and it was just too - normal. Too ordinary, too, too painfully worthless for his time.

At least - that was before he almost finished eating, almost placed his tray back early and locked himself up in the room or computer area - before he would almost gave up that Division was his grave. Turning around, he couldn’t help but lift an eyebrow and then shake his head, and smile. This wasn’t the kind of intervention he was thinking of, and there was a big chance that things would go downhill. But if this was going to be a change in pace at least just once in his life while in Division and may never again happen - he would delve into it.

So without further ado, after the shouting and the terse looking around- people joined in, some had nervous looks, some had smiles that were almost shining.  Daniel didn’t even hesitate to join the group of people who ran over to the food area and scoop whatever their grubby little hands on and throw. It was stupid. But it was exhilirating. It was dirty and messy and gooey against his usually clean hands (especially so because it’s always connected to the keyboard) but this time, he’d have fun and so he did toss - a mixture of ketchup, soup, pasta moving around them.

[isaac-moore]

Honestly, some part of Isaac wanted to take part in the chaos that took place, but on the other hand, his hair dripped from a recent shower and he was in no mood to be covered in vegetables or rice. Not to mention mashed potatoes were a bitch to clean, as he saw someone receive a huge clump of it in their hair. Why hadn't he sat closer to the doors? At least then he'd be able to skip this food fight and enjoy the not-having-any-part-of-this in another place.

But no, he was about in the middle and although Mensa wasn't that big, it also meant that once something like this blew up, it happened fast. Oh god. He would punch Grason for skipping dinner that night and leaving him alone in this food fight with no one to watch his back. He has already left his table, but also his meal, stupidly enough and was left ammo-less as he tried to make it to the door. Just then a mass of something wet and sticky hit him on the back of his head, soaking his hair and shirt. Freezing, he turned and saw Daniel Knightridge the fucking Fifth.

"You did not." He said under his breath before he tackled him, pushing him to the ground and using him as a sort of cushion as he stood up. Being dirty, he had nothing to lose. Time to be creative. He was angry and not in the mood for something like this. Dipping his hand in the vegetable soup of the food area, he slapped Daniel. It wouldn't seriously injure him but hopefully the wet smack would would leave some kind of impression.

[isaac-moore]

Things That Go Boom || Rachel & Isaac || 23/7/14

After yesterdays incident in the Mensa, Isaac had decided it was up to him to make Division as interesting, and after talking to Grason, it meant expanding his skill set, because learning had always been something that would keep him busy if he was interested. But pretty much everything interested him in terms of learning down in the Bunker, but it wasn't always offered to them. Although he had at first been eager to learn to fight, that had quickly changed when he'd gone to sleep with sore legs and and an increasing collection of places that hurt when he moved.

Still, he was slowly learning to hold his ground although he was never really up to get in a good punch of his own unless his opponent made a mistake or he went up against someone who had less experience fighting than he had. But now he was wandering the halls, looking for Rachel, an agent who was known for spending time working in the Bunkers. Apparently she was there when explosives were concerned and now that was interesting.

Assuming that she often spent time at Weaponry, Isaac wandered around there, eventually settling in a spot during lunchtime. He figured he could skip once or twice for the off chance that he might be able to convince her to teach him what she knew. And a pretty face was always nice to see. 

[isaac-moore]

Mashed Potatoes || Daniel & Isaac || 22/7/14

It was becoming boring. The whole thing of Division was becoming boring and even the plots of getting out couldn't keep Isaac entertained when they weren't training because he would most likely never bring his plans to realization anyway. It had been so fascinating at the start, something so secret and compelling that he had almost gone into overdrive from excitement at being part of it. Of course, it had been accompanied by the more negative emotions but right now it was overwhelming boredom. He was still coming up with slightly ludicrous ways that he might have escaped, having wandered off the path of actually working on getting out. 

But it seemed that he wasn't the only one, when he sat in the Mensa and he heard someone shout. People turned to the shout as if a nuclear bomb had gone off, and in a way it had. The hushed speaking of the recruits and the sound of cutlery was something that was simply part of the way things worked around here. Isaac, facing the male recruit that he hadn't spoken to before, simply raised his eyes from his mashed potatoes and stared with dead eyes. Really? Couldn't he eat his food in peace? 

Apparently not, as the disturber lobbed a handful of mashed potatoes at someone a table over. Recruits scrambled away, remained seated with an air of 'are you fucking kidding me' around them and others shouted at the recruit who started it all. But all of them were filled with the same curiousness as to what would happen next. 

[fleur-escent]

Visit Original Link

Lovers in Japan (Acoustic) // Coldplay

They are turning my head out, to see what I’m all about. Keepin’ my head down, to see what it feels like now, but I have no doubt, one day the sun will come out.

[isaac-moore]

Task For Two || Keira and Isaac || 31/5/14

[kidkeira-carter]

It was by far the oddest assignment to date for the young recruit, but Keira didn’t mind. Well, not entirely, anyway. The girl was having a hard enough time sleeping in Division, but thankfully she had never been the type of person to sleep much. She suffered (or benefitted, depending on how you looked at it) from having an excess amount of energy, which was what many found surprising when they learned she wasn’t athletic. Keira, in these instances, would simply explain that she used her energy far more effectively by fixing things or solving problems. Why would she want to kick around a ball on a field – even if it was a good outlet for her frustration or grief – when she could be inventing some new gadget or other?

Not that that was Keira’s specialty, really. She just liked to know how things worked and how to assemble them back together again, and more efficiently, if possible. She was a problem solver.

So, ergo, she didn’t mind solving problems in the middle of the night.

She was curious, however – why were they asking one of their greenest recruits for help? Her reputation must have proceeded her, and surely they had seen some of their skills thus far during her classes, but it still left Keira with far too many pressing questions. For now, however, she would quell them.

She was just starting to get into it when the door to the room opened once more, and another person walked in. Furrowing her brows in confusion, she watched him, unaware of why he was joining her, here, in the middle of the night. Perhaps they didn’t trust her abilities after all and had sent in the real engineer. Keira felt her stomach drop in disappointment. “Oh, am I being relieved?” she said, somewhat weakly, her eyes dimming. She paused, then shifted in her seat. “Wait – I know you, don’t I?”

[isaac-moore]

Keira Carter. The name rolled into Isaac’s mind so easily even before he had fully realised it and he shook his head at her words. Even though most would have been relieved at, well, being relieved from their task in the middle of the night, there was an undercurrent that didn’t sound like relief or hope at all in Keira’s voice. Isaac noted it and smiled when she recognized him.

He often liked to think that people – especially girls – remembered his face after he had spoken to them and he pulled out a chair and plopped himself down in it, taking a moment to shape his hair a little and interlock his fingers loosely as he leant on his knees with his elbows. His elbow slipped of his knee and his face almost slammed against the desk before he whipped himself upright and shook his head a little, eyes wide before a sheepish smile came unto his face as he glanced at Keira. 

"That doesn’t happen very often, I swear." As if it would lessen the effect of his failure, the words spilled out quicker than he’d wanted and he closed his eyes for a moment before tiredly rubbing at his eyes. He chose to simply leave the matter behind him and hope that Keira wouldn’t remember it too long. Two computers had apparently ‘broken down’ and needed repair. Judging by what Keira had already done, she hadn’t been there too long, or she was an incredibly slow worker. Maybe that’s why they called him in? But she didn’t seem like the type to dawdle and Division didn’t seem like the type to take on slow people. "So, what’s the plan?" He asked carefully, hoping that their methods of working overlapped at least a little bit. 

[isaac-moore]

The Butterfly Stroke || Nikola & Isaac

[nikola-sarabia]

Nikola was alarmed that the boy seemed to be choking, but he didn’t know what to do. Was it normal for people to choke on air? Was that what coughing really was? It seemed like he might be missing something when he heard Isaac talk. “Oh. Well, you never know. Maybe something could happen.” He shrugged, not knowing what else to say. Was it wrong for him to voice his thoughts. He knew that people normally looked at him strangely for it, but no one ever almost choked because he said something. Perhaps he should be more careful about what he says. It’s already clear that the people here do not value honesty the way that he was raised to and that was something he was finding very hard to get used to.

He smiled weakly at Isaac. “I used to. I don’t think I do much any more though,” he said as he tried to get some of the water in his ear. “One the summer, the air conditioner in our car broke down and the only way to keep cool was to swim. It was nicer to swim then than it is here.” Here swimming wasn’t something to keep yourself cool. It was training, just like everything else and they expected you to be able to keep up with everyone else. He wondered what it would be like to not know how to swim and then come to Division. Would they push in the recruit and tell them swim or else you drown? It seemed like something they would do.

[isaac-moore]

There was about as much chance of that happening as there was that they would all wake up and find it to have been a bad dream, was what Isaac wanted to say but knew that his comment would probably only be met by silence or some other rebuttal that wouldn’t end it. Perhaps Nikola would surprise him, but he doubted it in silence. Maybe he could do with someone who was positive even though they were under the ground, training for an indoctrinating organisation that killed people. 

"You don’t think you do much any more?" It came out a little sharp, and Isaac debated whether or not he should have said it like that, but then mentally shrugged. He dealt badly with indecisive people who gave answers like that. Either you swam, or you didn’t, there wasn’t much in between. "Ah, that sounds good. We used to go the beach with our father if the apartment was too warm."

That had changed the past few years, the Moores getting a better AC and growing closer together, which meant that more than a few times, their father wasn’t the one forcing them to do things together, and they did them by themselves. It was good for the half brothers, but in retrospect, Isaac wished he had spent more time with the three of them. 

[isaac-moore]

Copycat || Darcy & Isaac

[division-dancelli]

At the time, Darcy had thought himself to be an absolute genius. On any other ordinary day, Division hardly gave its recruits enough time to eat, shower, and breathe, yet they still found it necessary to burden everyone with hours of extra homework and studying each night as well. As soon as he caught up with one subject, Darcy felt as though he fell behind in another. He had never been able to balance his schoolwork in high school, never able to complete and turn in his homework on time or remember to study for a test. In fact, he’d never even graduated high school. And now suddenly, he was expected to not only comprehend but retain and pass such idiotic subjects as Mandarin, Russian, and IT, three classes he would have actively avoided at all costs had he actually made it to college.

But then again, this outcome was proof enough that even if Darcy had never been recruited, he would’ve never made it to college. Because if there was any organization that was capable of figuring out if cheating was going on, it was Division. Darcy had been stupid to think of the idea to begin with and even more idiotic to convince Isaac to be his partner-in-crime. He felt guilty, heat building beneath his cheeks as he looked down at the homework sheet with the giant red cross through it. Isaac was a new recruit and Darcy had already managed to get him in trouble. As it was, Isaac didn’t have much of a reputation in Division yet to cushion this blow if it ended up being a larger issue than anticipated. More than anything, he hoped that Isaac wouldn’t be punished too harshly for this even if he was. 

Swallowing heavily, he looked over to Isaac, an uncomfortable chuckle clearing his throat. He reached up to scratch at the nape of his neck, feeling his fingers tighten around the paper in his hands. “You can say that again,” he agreed. “I must admit this probably wasn’t my greatest idea to date…”

[isaac-moore]

"If you’re trying to take the blame by saying it was your idea, save it." He had known that there was a possibility that they might end up sitting in Amanda’s office like this, and had he been really afraid of the risk, he wouldn’t have agreed to doing it. "It takes two to get here." A small shrug followed his words as he sat back and tipped his head backwards, figuring that even training was better than this because the wait was annoying. He had already entertained the outcomes but figured that they couldn’t be reprimanded too heavily for something like this. 

Still, it was frustrating to know that he’d have a mark next to his name from now on, and that his lease had become a little shorter due to this stupid mistake. Back at home, he’d often skip the whole part of doing his homework, instead focusing on what he found interesting and simply studying for tests when he felt like he needed it. Sitting there, he discovered that he dealt badly with being caught at copying homework. 

"Next time we’ll just have be more careful, huh?" The words came out as a light taunt, and it was undoubtable that they were in sight of at least one camera or that they were being recorded. He grinned wickedly at Darcy and then shook his head lightly. "I kid. I’m not going to be the first one who dies because I copied too much homework." Isaac said with a snort. 

[watching-your-six]

Systematic Killings (AU) - Isaac Moore - 559 Words

Recruit Name: Isaac Moore

Death: Anemia from Overworking 

[isaac-moore]

———————————————————————-

Doyle had given her a tablet. He seemed to be less stoic that he usually was. In Amanda’s eyes he seemed more tired, and was that a cracked nose he had? She dug down deep to try and find if she cared, there was a whisper of it, and then, nothing more as the door closed behind him, leaving her with a checklist with the recruit and where they were. First comes first, 

"Isaac Moore- Cell Block 1" 

With precise steps the double doors opened for her and she could only hear a whisper as Doyle spoke ‘Snap out of it~~’ Of course the whisper did nothing as she entered the cell block. There he was, Isaac Moore- his upper body was loose as he was sitting down on a steel chair. The legs and lower torso were stuck on it and his hands were locked on a steel table where a computer was waiting for him, wherein his arms and fingers had just enough leverage to work on the keys.

"What the fuck am I doing here?" the recruit said as he saw his handler walk in and in the recruits eyes which were usually calculating and intelligent- widened. "Amanda?" he called out, there was something different about her. "Type Mr. Moore." she said- her words echoing in the metal walls. "No I wont." the recruit said, confusion evident in his eyes as the computer turned on and strings of codes appeared. 

True to Isaac’s ability in computers - it wasn’t hard for his eyes to grow wider at what he saw. Everything about the code was to destroy Isaac’s and Grason’s father - Lysander. “No, No Amanda - I won’t” Just as Isaac was reading the codes that appeared Amanda had already stood beside him, her hand, which held a container with a liquid substance, one that a cleaner would know instantly—- reached out to be poured on the boys fingers.

"FUCK!" the word echoed against the walls. "What the fuck is wrong with you!" the sound was angry as he swerved his head to look at his handler, whose eyes were only trained on the boy’s right  pinky finger- which were now melting in front of the keyboard, slowly eating through his layer of epidermis, until the skeletal structure of his pinky was poking out of his hand. "Type. Mr. Moore." the handler just said.

Again and again this roulette went, with Amanda not saying anything but “Type” and Isaac despite trying to stop the tears in his eyes would not budge to enter the codes that would harm his father’s name. At this moment, Isaac only had his two index fingers left. “You will still be able to write and save yourself Mr. Moore- type- please.” The please was now different from all the other please Amanda has said, no tone of being nice, no tone of truth - if ever there was, it was so deep in her psyche that her tone betrayed nothing of what happened to her. 

"Grason will find out about this Magnus- and" With a roll of her darkened eyes, Amanda tsk’d as she poured the acidic contents on the other two fingers and she used this chance to drop whatever was left inside the screaming boy’s mouth. "Meeting the recruits eyes, her own smiled at him. Your dear brother? He’s even more useless than you." With a tight lipped smile, she moved away from the computer and the boy, who was now gurgling the rest of his life away. 

———————————————————————-

(Next: Jennifer Patterson)

AN: Favorite line:  With a tight lipped smile, she moved away from the computer and the boy, who was now gurgling the rest of his life away. (lol)

[fawr-styx]

Evaluation # 2 || Isaac Moore || Recruit

Subject Name: Isaac Moore

Event: Week 53, Flooding

Written By: Liane Glass

Read More

[rainbowheadphones]

Visit Original Link

[isaac-moore]

Day 54 of 365 - Fall Out Boy featuring Elton John, “Save Rock And Roll”

you are what you love not who loves you

[afortyof-keith]

Morning

[afortyof-keith]

…Really?  I… don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep from now on.

Er… thanks?  Isaac’s not such a bad name, either.

[isaac-moore]

You'll be fine. 

I was making conversation, don't take it too seriously. I would have said 'welcome' or 'nice to meet you', but neither of those statements would have been honest. Instead, I'm more interested in what you did to get here?