"It's Doctor, Actually."

"And like you once did to me, all those years ago - I will burn THE HEART out of you." Independent Spy OC, from the same Universe as @bondsgotnothingonme. Please read the Rules and About before interacting.

[londonsxbitch]

Tentative

STARTER CALL !!!

[unhxngxd]

UNLOVED

UNSTABLE

UNHINGED

Independent Horror Multi-Muse.

Featuring Mary Mason, Mercy Addams, Sally McKnight, Esther Coleman and Lara Croft.

Brought to life by Dorian.

[londonsxbitch]

@richardxoliverxmayhew | From HERE

"I have hobbies!" Perhaps it was said a little defensively - they both knew her 'hobbies' were far more a backburner activity that she had retained from her earlier life, after all. "But you can hardly bring a violin on a stakeout, can you? Or crochet materials, for that matter."

And the stress part of his comment never even got recognition.

"All I'm sayiRng is that if I got shot and emergency evacced right now, at least I wouldn't be worried about running out of coffee."

[londonsxbitch]

"A concussion? Really, which one of us is the Doctor here?" Not a medical doctor, of course, so really it carried very little weight. Plus, he was probably right, even if she hated to admit it.; a face colliding with a steering wheel did tend to have that effect.

Then he kept talking, and her face steadily dropped.

"....You have got to be kidding." He wasn't - when was Mallory ever kidding with her? - but the idea of being stuck on leave was nothing short of depressing.

"Sir, I'm fine. Or at least perfectly capable of sitting behind a desk for the rest of the week."

[londonsxbitch]

"For fucks sake." It was RARE for her to swear - she had always been a little too proper for such a thing around colleagues - but the words slipped out on instinct.

What the hell was she meant to do on medical leave? Just lay around and stare at the walls before she went insane, a la Charlotte Perkins? The very idea felt nothing short of horrific.

"I mean, if we're being technical, anyone with a suspected concussion shouldn't be left alone - surely me being in the office is far safer than at home, completely alone." Would such a point work on Mallory? She doubted it, but she would be damned if she didn't try.

[londonsxbitch]

Her eyes, dark and makeup rimmed, moved from Roxy down to their hands, eyebrow raising slightly at the continued holding. Underneath leather gloves, scarred fingers tensed slightly before relenting to the continued contact.

It was an incredibly rare occurrence someone was so intimate.

"Actually, that is rather the reason I came by. I don't expect Merlin would think to take the time to show you where we keep the good coffee, let alone offer to make you one." Or perhaps he had, but it still felt like a convenient excuse for them to go and take a break.

After all, it hardly took her psychologist's brain to work out that Roxy was no doubt being drowned in administrative and bureaucratic work.

[londonsxbitch]

Her hand remained firmly tensed under Roxy's, the discomfort radiating up her arm - but too focused on being polite to rip it away like she so desperately wanted to. Another woman at their job was so rare, she didn't want to make an enemy of her.

"I admit, I rarely see a conversation that is not work. But I think the boys are more talkative than me." And perhaps, if she didn't tend to isolate herself in the basement surrounded by mountains of work to rival Everest, she might get the chance to engage in those conversations more.

Then, the staff who weren't in her close team - people aside from Merlin and Roxy's fathers - tended to steer clear of her at every chance, so perhaps not.

Her hand awkwardly in Roxy's, she led the way down the corridor, red heels clicking against solid ground.

[londonsxbitch]

"I imagine he doesn't want to show favouritism by coming to visit you too early." Missy knew him well enough for the educated guess, allowing a small hint of a smile to tug up her lip.

She was fond of Roxy, and her family, even if she rarely dared to admit it. Merlin may be trying to take her under his wing, but Missy was only a few steps behind, ready to keep a watchful eye. Roxy was so young, after all, and still lived in her mind as a tiny tot stumbling across the room between her fathers.

It was incredible to see how much she had grown.

"I, however, have no such qualms with showing such preference". The words were paired with a gloved hand being held out to shake, an action more congratulatory than formal. "Welcome to the team, Roxy. How are you settling in?"

[londonsxbitch]

Her eyes, dark and makeup rimmed, moved from Roxy down to their hands, eyebrow raising slightly at the continued holding. Underneath leather gloves, scarred fingers tensed slightly before relenting to the continued contact.

It was an incredibly rare occurrence someone was so intimate.

"Actually, that is rather the reason I came by. I don't expect Merlin would think to take the time to show you where we keep the good coffee, let alone offer to make you one." Or perhaps he had, but it still felt like a convenient excuse for them to go and take a break.

After all, it hardly took her psychologist's brain to work out that Roxy was no doubt being drowned in administrative and bureaucratic work.

[londonsxbitch]

@dontcxckitup | Closed Starter

"If you're here to yell at me, Sir, I really don't want to hear it." Perhaps not the most formal of greetings for her boss, but Missy was tired. Stuck in a hospital bed, especially for something so distinctly not her fault, was tiresome.

"I was doing the speed limit, I didn't expect some drunk asshole to plow into the back of my car." Nor had she braced for it, a fact made obvious by the grazes and cuts decorating her face. But she was lucky, to walk away with little more than a fractured wrist, cosmetic wounds, a bump to the head and a car desperately in need of a new back bumper.

Less lucky, perhaps, was that her only emergency contact number was her work.

"I'll be back at work tomorrow."

[londonsxbitch]

"A concussion? Really, which one of us is the Doctor here?" Not a medical doctor, of course, so really it carried very little weight. Plus, he was probably right, even if she hated to admit it.; a face colliding with a steering wheel did tend to have that effect.

Then he kept talking, and her face steadily dropped.

"....You have got to be kidding." He wasn't - when was Mallory ever kidding with her? - but the idea of being stuck on leave was nothing short of depressing.

"Sir, I'm fine. Or at least perfectly capable of sitting behind a desk for the rest of the week."

[londonsxbitch]

@rcxylancelct-mcrtcn | From HERE

A leather-gloved hand knocked twice against the wall, sharp and short.

"The new Agent Lancelot, I take it?" There was nothing particularly friendly about Missy's demeanor - she was hardly one to smile or sugar-coat such trivial things - but she was perhaps less instantly on guard as she so often was with other new agents.

Roxy came from a family she trusted, after all.

Enough so that Missy had actively sought her out for an initial greeting, coming to find her tucked away in an office during her first few days as an official agent. Leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, a small but perfectly put-together figure with a pristine office dress and red-painted lips.

"It's nice to see some new, female blood in the agency."

[londonsxbitch]

"I imagine he doesn't want to show favouritism by coming to visit you too early." Missy knew him well enough for the educated guess, allowing a small hint of a smile to tug up her lip.

She was fond of Roxy, and her family, even if she rarely dared to admit it. Merlin may be trying to take her under his wing, but Missy was only a few steps behind, ready to keep a watchful eye. Roxy was so young, after all, and still lived in her mind as a tiny tot stumbling across the room between her fathers.

It was incredible to see how much she had grown.

"I, however, have no such qualms with showing such preference". The words were paired with a gloved hand being held out to shake, an action more congratulatory than formal. "Welcome to the team, Roxy. How are you settling in?"

[londonsxbitch]

@dontcxckitup | Closed Starter

"If you're here to yell at me, Sir, I really don't want to hear it." Perhaps not the most formal of greetings for her boss, but Missy was tired. Stuck in a hospital bed, especially for something so distinctly not her fault, was tiresome.

"I was doing the speed limit, I didn't expect some drunk asshole to plow into the back of my car." Nor had she braced for it, a fact made obvious by the grazes and cuts decorating her face. But she was lucky, to walk away with little more than a fractured wrist, cosmetic wounds, a bump to the head and a car desperately in need of a new back bumper.

Less lucky, perhaps, was that her only emergency contact number was her work.

"I'll be back at work tomorrow."

[londonsxbitch]

@rcxylancelct-mcrtcn | From HERE

A leather-gloved hand knocked twice against the wall, sharp and short.

"The new Agent Lancelot, I take it?" There was nothing particularly friendly about Missy's demeanor - she was hardly one to smile or sugar-coat such trivial things - but she was perhaps less instantly on guard as she so often was with other new agents.

Roxy came from a family she trusted, after all.

Enough so that Missy had actively sought her out for an initial greeting, coming to find her tucked away in an office during her first few days as an official agent. Leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, a small but perfectly put-together figure with a pristine office dress and red-painted lips.

"It's nice to see some new, female blood in the agency."

[londonsxbitch]

// Also I finally added the Mafia!AU //

[bondsgotnothingonme]

// PSA:

So I haven't really posted about it, but the last few months have been...Busy, to say the least. And with a lot of IRL things causing issues. I know my replies have been so sporadic, and given I start Uni again this week? I'm still going to be low activity for the time being. Not inactive! Just slow. //

[hacker-codeq]

@londonsxbitch liked for a random starter

Q had been kicked out of the office. after being there for 72 hours, but couldn’t bring himself to go home and sleep. There was no emergency to deal with, he just didn’t want to go back to the little townhouse with nothing to do. It wasn’t what he was made for, after all.

So, he had gotten himself a takeaway cup of tea and sat down on a bench to people watch; London was always just even when it was the middle of the night. He could feel himself being watched though and glanced over his shoulder. “I’m not tired. I’m fine.” The Quartermaster said simply. “Don’t tell me off, it’s not fair.”

[londonsxbitch]

“When has the spy world EVER cared about what’s fair?” Doctor Beretta stood a few feet away from the bench, half-hidden by the shadows - she wasn’t subtle in watching Q, expecting the conversation to start soon enough. Even if it came purely from a place of professional concern, she could hardly just leave him out here.

He was too much of an ASSET to MI, for a start.

Black heels clicked against cobblestone as she moved around the bench to sit beside him, red coat striking even in the darkness. 

“Besides, if you get DISMISSED for the night it means you either royally fucked up, or your behaviour is concerning people. So which is it tonight?” 

[londonsxbitch]

// Thinking a lot lately about how Missy’s death is inevitable. 

In every story, in every verse, in every iteration where she simply IS, there’s no hope for her.  She was written to die. 

She symbolises too much - the duality of humankind, the way grief eats at our souls and makes us into monsters of our own design. The counterpart to the message that good will always triumph. Sometimes good people lose the path, and they stumble so far that a martyrs death is their ONLY hope of redemption. And it’s so unfair. You give and you give and you give, and you lose it all piece by piece. Chunks of your life ripped and clawed away until all that is left is a shell. She faces a trauma so real and so human and so utterly feminine, and like all forces of rage, it has to end the same way. Burning out in a cascade of tragedy.                                                                                    //

[londonsxbitch]

// Missy: I grew up in this agency, it’s all I know, I was groomed for spyhood from birth. 

  James: My teacher said ‘wanna be a spy’ and I said ‘ohhh, fuck yeah’ //

[dontcxckitup]

closed starter for @londonsxbitch​

   It was two in the morning, and he had just managed to fall asleep after a long day at work – only to find himself back on his feet and at the front door now. The tiredness was evident in his narrowed eyes and the pale face, and the pyjamas and dressing gown indicated that Mallory had just gotten out of bed. And the firm features and clenched jaw proved that he, in fact, was not amused by the late-night visit.

“I hope for you that you have a bloody good reason to stand at my doorstep at two in the morning,” a hoarse voice told the woman in front of him. His brow rose challengingly, and Mallory didn’t even think about inviting her in.

[londonsxbitch]

“I’m not sure - we could get an agent on the train easily enough, but into that carriage specifically? It wouldn’t go unnoticed.” Her eyes lingered for a few moments on the younger man on screen, before they flicked back over to Q and Marlene. 

They were all so YOUNG. Practically children. 

“But if we could get an agent into the closest carriage, perhaps they could get a in-ear to Q and Marlene. Slide it through the window?” She was batting the ideas without looking away from the screen, one gloved hand idly touching the end of her hair. Pulling lightly at dark strands simply to keep the occupied. 

“We wouldn’t be able to hear them much, but at least if they can hear us they might be put off any hero antics - but then, if they get caught they would be dead in a heartbeat, so is it worth the risk?” Missy mulled over her thoughts, her words a running commentary of her head. 

“Our priority is THEIR safety, not the collateral damage, so I don’t want us to be in a situation where we could be potentially compromising them.” A sad but accurate thought, where the agency had to focus. Where she would focus. 

[dontcxckitup]

closed starter for @londonsxbitch​

   It was two in the morning, and he had just managed to fall asleep after a long day at work – only to find himself back on his feet and at the front door now. The tiredness was evident in his narrowed eyes and the pale face, and the pyjamas and dressing gown indicated that Mallory had just gotten out of bed. And the firm features and clenched jaw proved that he, in fact, was not amused by the late-night visit.

“I hope for you that you have a bloody good reason to stand at my doorstep at two in the morning,” a hoarse voice told the woman in front of him. His brow rose challengingly, and Mallory didn’t even think about inviting her in.

[londonsxbitch]

There was a certain IMMUNITY in her as Mallory undressed. She had spent her life around MI agents. Their lack of boundaries when work was on the line, the communal showers and shared bedrooms in training - she wasn’t bothered by it, going about their business and focusing on her work without giving it a second thought.

Or perhaps one second thought, as she spotted the tattoo. A question for another day, perhaps. 

“If I had to hazard a guess,” Something she would do, no question. “I would say they don’t WANT human hostages. Look at the guy with the bomb,” her gloved finger tapped on the computer screen, bringing Mallory’s attention to the figure as her analytical mind took over. This was her AREA, reading people and their body language, coming to conclusions based on the PSYCHOLOGY that others so often overlooked. It was what made her such an asset, such a good agent. 

“He’s practically a KID. I don’t think he actually wants to hurt anyone - this REEKS of child grooming, like he’s being pressured to do it.” A suicidal kid with too much pressure, she could understand that. Relate, even. Just a little.