OUTFOXED

you name the fiercest storms after women and you wonder why we bite so hard? don’t ask me why we bare our teeth and snarl. it’s because we were taught that to be a woman, you must be death incarnate.

[prizedfox]

THERESA MARTIN​:

.

Evie’s discomfort didn’t slip Tess’ attention and for a second she felt it sting, they were never uncomfortable around each other usually. But then again, they didn’t usually fight like they had the other night, that had been a very unusual event as well. The joking already made her feel a little more at ease and she chuckled at the joke. “To be fair, he probably has a crazy metabolism, he has to take the energy somewhere after all.” She matched Evie’s joking tone, Antonio was an safe topic to talk about. There was no potential tension there. At Evie’s teasing words, she looked down at the plate in front of her, still pretty pleased with her assembled breakfast. “I think breakfast is the only meal of the day that should be sweet,” she then replied, pointing her fork at her best friend and roommate. 

With determination she cut through the waffle, collecting an obscene amount of maple syrup drenched waffle on her fork and (with a bit of struggle) plopping it into her mouth. “Mhmm, delicious.” The brunette winked at the other, before leaning back in her chair again. “Do you have plans for today or just a lazy at home day?” After a suspicious glance, she decided to give the coffee a second chance and took another sip, more careful this time. Luckily enough, it had cooled down enough to now be safe for consumption and Tessa could finally start on getting her neccessary amount of caffeine intake.

.

“Well just as long as I get to beat him up after, I suppose we could deliver him the left overs.” She replied, a small smirk upon her lips at the thought. Antonio would probably have a field day — Evelina being nice to him for once. Without altruistic intentions. Perhaps. She’d see. To be quite frankly honest, most of her attention was focused upon improving her relationship with Tess — especially after what happened last night. She could still the tension coiling in her gut, but at least it seemed that some of the heightened strain was relieved by a new morning for the pair of them. “What about dessert?” She teased, rolling her eyes at the thought of a sweet breakfast, something that she definitely was not a fan of.

Taking a couple more bites of her avocado toast, one of her favoured breakfasts, she paused to take a long sip of her coffee before chuckling at the look on Tess’s face as she devoured her waffle that was obscenely drenched in some God forsaken sweet sauce. “Lazy at home.” She replied easily, knowing that she wanted to avoid seeing Isaac, lest she shoot him out and accidentally on purpose maim him more than she had imagined in her dreams. “How about you Tess?” She asked, as she continued to consume her breakfast, hoping that maybe they could spend the day together and hopefully get past last night.

[prizedfox]

ADELAIDE LECLAIR:

— ⌘ —

Adelaide wasn’t blind to everything that was happening around her — in her own gang and the never ending and ever growing tension between the Angels and the Reapers. She wasn’t blind to the blood that had been spilled (using the guns she created) and the blood that will be spilled in the future. It was impossible for Adelaide not to feel some sort of connection to what her guns did to those they were aimed at — but she never felt guilty; she had nothing to feel guilty about, not for now — and at the same time feel completely detached from the chaos her weapons created. 

For a heartbeat, the Angel just looked at the coffee she had lost — she’d heard people say, countless times, that there was no use crying over spilled milk, but what about spilled coffee, when it was the only thing separating you from feeling like your eyes might shut on you? Nice going Leclair. Adelaide let out a scoff as she crouched down. Those words ran down her spine, unexpected yet not entirely unwelcome. After allowing herself a couple of seconds of mourning over her morning coffee, Adelaide rolled her eyes, amused at the dramatics of the clapping hands. “Someone’s gotta do it, right?” Adelaide asked (though not really expecting an answer) as she momentarily looked up at Evelina. Some would call it cockiness but Adelaide saw it as her being aware that what she did, no one else could — that’s why she was valuable. 

A sigh escaped the dark-haired girl as she looked down at her stuff again, gathering everything in a disorganized pile before she decided to shove it all inside her backpack. “Thanks for the help, by the way,” Adelaide began, standing up and putting her backpack back on her shoulder. “You look chipper.” Sarcasm laced every syllable. 

.

There were so few people that Evelina could actually tolerate. Mostly because she thought of many of them as insipid fools that kowtowed to Isaac’s demands, bowing and scraping to his wills. Perhaps it was why she had so many acquaintances, allies and perhaps almost friends outside of the Reapers. Ones that bemused her, but also were not as irritating as so many of the Reapers she knew. And Adelaide as an example had always been a useful ally both to herself, but for the resources that were held in Adelaide’s own mind. “Better you than someone else.” She replied sardonically, as she awaited for the other to finally pick up her belongings and and place them all inside her backpack. “You’re absolutely welcome.” She teased before stepping closer towards the other, a look of mirth appearing in her eyes before she chuckled at the comment.

“Chipper would not be the word I’d use to describe my mood, but sure I guess you could use it.” She replied, placing a hand on her hip before her eyes scoured the crowd to make sure that their conversation was unnoticed and would allow for them to be undisturbed as they continued. “Care for a drink since you spilt yours?” She offered, intending to continue her pathway to her targeted location, but for once not minding the company.

[prizedfox]

EVELINA’S INSTAGRAM PAGE

i. isn’t she the most precious thing you’ve ever seen? ii. @gray’s always has the best cocktails, look no further. iii. felt cute thought i’d post this x are you satisfied now u monster @overridelord iv. late nights with the bestie watching the sunset. v. old records are simply the best. vi. @underbossking pls stop leaving flowers at my door.

[prizedfox]

THERESA MARTIN:

.

She tried to think of whether there was any other person who could even name her six favorite breakfast foods on top of their heads, but it must be only Evie. Something that should have come as no surprise to her but sometimes she forgot that this was how Evie showed her love. Not through words or gifts, as Tess often resolved to, but rather through action, through taking care of people. Looking over the plates with bacon, waffles and everything she could possibly dream of, she couldn’t help but smile. “Of course you did. Maybe after we’re done we can invite about four Reapers in here to clean off our plates,” she joked, which was a rare occurance before she had had her first cup of coffee. 

Taking a sip, she slightly burned her tongue and quickly grabbed for a glass of water, in order to soothe the burn. “Fucking shit, fuck.” Gulping down the entire glass of water in a matter of seconds, she then looked back at Evie who still looked at her as if she was a riddle to be solved. “It’s okay, I’m not going to explode, you can….” Vaguely she gestured, before taking up a fork. “Just behave like normal, Evie.” Picking up a waffle with her fork, she then put an obscene amount of maple syrup on top. Looking up, she raised her eyebrows in challenge. “And don’t judge me, I need the sugar to get through the day.” 

.

There had been no raised voices, no smashed plates and Tess seemed rather calm. All seemed calm. Well at least, for now. Wrapping her fingers around the nearest mug that was filled with steaming coffee, and perhaps a dash of bourbon that she had added previously, she took a long sip of the coffee as she tracked Tess’s shifting features as the minutes passed by, hoping that perhaps they would have a tranquil morning when compared to the shouting match that had occurred a few hours ago. Finally taking a seat opposite her best friend, a small chuckle escaped her lips before she replied with a slight amount of sass, “I’m sure someone like Antonio could shovel the rest down by himself — no help needed on his behalf.”

Perhaps, just maybe there was a chance they could get past this. And whilst the clutches of regret still clawed its way upon Evie, she knew that this was at least a start. A small smirk appearing upon her lips at Tess burning her tongue, she finally set her cup of coffee down, before helping herself to some of the smashed avocado and sourdough toast, her preferred breakfast. She had never been fond of sweet treats unlike Tess, preferring savoury dishes for her breakfast. Mulling over Tess’s words for her next reply, she replied dryly, “I will never understand how you can stand to have that for breakfast.” Yes, Evie could never stomach something that sweet this early in the morning.

[prizedfox]

ADELAIDE LECLAIR​:

TIME: July 23rd 2020, 9:34 AM LOCATION: Central Rosnovy, outside a coffee shop STATUS: Open

A lot of shit had happened the last few weeks and although Adelaide cared about those that had gotten hurt, she couldn’t understand the overwhelming sense of loyalty that so many of her colleagues shared. Sometimes she wondered who was wrong  — the one that was ride-or-die for the gang or the one that felt little loyalty to those that have given her so much. Either way, Adelaide’s mind didn’t dwell on it for too long because there was a chance neither of them was wrong (or right) and she had other stuff to worry about. Like her next design. 

Walking down the street, it was hard to miss the tension in the air and she could think of a couple of people that would scorn her for going out just to buy a cup of coffee. Sure, tensions were high but her need for good coffee was higher. After getting her morning coffee, she walked out of the coffee shop with a cup in one hand and her backpack barely hanging on the opposite shoulder. Adelaide blew into the cup; she wasn’t impatient, per se, but when she felt like she might just fall asleep on her feet, she could deal with a half-burned tongue. Before she could take a sip of the dark beverage, she bumped into someone. 

“Shit.” Coffee on the floor, some contents of her backpack hanging out, including her designs notebook (coveted, no doubt, though those that ever thought of getting their hands on it would soon realize how impossible it is to read unless your name is Adelaide Leclair)… it was a mess and a half. “Sorry, I’m half-asleep and caffeine-deprived,” Adelaide began without really looking at who she bumped into before crouching down to gather the stuff that fell.

.

Honestly, Evelina was just glad that she was able to escape the shitshow that was the Reaper’s Hideout. She was sick of hearing the Orlova’s or Isaac bitch and moan about the Angels and all the various agendas they had in usurping their throne to gain their own. She just wanted a damn drink and be afforded some peace and silence. But between combat training for the underlings, and Tess having several computer analysis programmes going on in the apartment, she had decided to head towards Gray’s her favourite bar in order to escape from the gangs and their bullshit. That and also, after having been banned from the insipid attacks in the past few weeks, she was glad that she was finally able to step foot inside it again.

Moving swiftly through Central Rosnovy towards the targeted location, a small rare smile appeared upon her lips as she noticed a rather familiar brunette headed individual who had bumped into the closest figure to them, dropping all of their contents upon the floor. Bringing herself to a halt, she began to slowly clap with a small smirk upon her lips as she commented dryly, “Nice going Leclair, another late night up designing?” And perhaps she could have offered a hand to the other, but she was too busy thinking about the shot of bourbon that she most dearly craving. That, and she wasn’t in the mood to be sober after the irritating morning she had, and it was only nine fucking am. It wasn’t even noon yet.

[specerhastings]

SOFIA CARSON feel the beat  (2020)

[prizedfox]

RYKER VOIGHT​:

.

“I don’t think you need to hear my suggestion. You know it. It need not be said.” For once. This one time he keeps his suggestions and his little play on words. He keeps his games to himself. He does not wish to see her writhe and squirm under his thumb. Though, he does think control of her might be quite the feat to accomplish. Even for him. Isaac would know. He keeps it open and for her to say, to choose, instead. She could take his musings as a call for neutrality and that would be a considered victory for him. He would let her be the one to say it. Even if, really, all he wanted was to say anyone but the reapers. He felt a visceral need to shout it — anyone else. But he didn’t. He kept his own mouth snapped shut as his thoughts grew rampant; the things they could do together, if only she would relinquish her ties to the damned reapers. But if she wanted to cling to the dead, then dead she would become. Perhaps even by his very hand. “All I’ll say is hungry dogs don’t take to leashes too well. The bite off the hands of those who feed them.” And Isaac was well on his way to losing a hand in this war. Ryker knew it. Isaac had contained too many beasts for too long and they were starving. Starving for the power only a Vetrova had. Or, in his case and the future case, a Voight had. 

His eyes hold a flicker of a challenge then. Challenge and… playfulness. It was as if a shot of pure exhilaration had been injected into his veins at her words. One did not so simply sneak into the Vetrova mansion. Not without consequences. But, he would let them hold onto their self-inflated confidence. They could think they had ruffled a few feathers. Maybe even plucked one. It would serve its purpose the next time when they planned an outright attack rather than just plant silly devices all found within the first hour of returning home. “Or maybe the Reapers have found themselves someone,” he draws out the silence. Looking as if he was really contemplating his next word choice. “Tech-y.” The one word exuded simplicity. A sense of being underwhelmed. Because he was underwhelmed. Unbothered even. Sneak in all they want. The next time they attempted it they wouldn’t get out. Then the games could really begin. Or maybe there wouldn’t be a next time at all. Not if he found himself crossing paths with an ‘ old friend ’ in the streets of Rosnovy. “Or,” he continues unfazed, “maybe we just enjoy letting the damned have a single taste of heaven. Keeps them wanting more.” He can’t help it then. He winks. That cocksure grin forming as quickly as it was wiped clean from his lips. He was well aware of how dangerous one taste could be. They would come crawling back. Whether that was to find their seat at the table or have their blood splattered on the angel’s new rug is yet to be determined. He was hoping for the former. It was really hard to get his hands on such a quality rug in a reasonable length of time. 

His hands that gently prodded and poked go still. Not losing their hold, but unmoving. It was as if his hands were at war with his brain on if he wanted to keep them there or gobble back up that blissful distance. He remains. Still. Looking at her arm, just her arm, now as he contemplated her admission. Digested it. Thought on what he could do, or even say, in return. ‘ I’m sorry ’. No, that was too simple and he couldn’t be sorry. He wasn’t. Bloodshed was as normal as a handshake to him. ‘ This is why you don’t lie with dogs ’. No. He had already made his point there. ‘ It won’t happen again ’. He couldn’t guarantee that. He couldn’t even guarantee it wouldn’t be him who shot her next. He settles for something uncomplicated, or as uncomplicated as it could get: “casualties of war.” When you choose war, you don’t make it out unscathed. Some don’t make it out at all. His eyes rise to hers then. Watches at how they briefly close and almost enjoy his touch. He doesn’t let himself nurse that thought. Not even for a second. It was another thing on a list of things they couldn’t have. “I know those better than most.” And he did. Hell, the Voight’s were the reason for half the casualties in this war. “Maybe it’s time for you to bite off the hand that thinks you can be his casualty in this war.” Words said with a shrug, his own hand finally relinquishing its hold on her. She wouldn’t be his casualty. She would be Isaac’s. 

.

Remaining silent in his admissions, there was much Evelina could analyse in the unsaid. It need not be said. It was true. She could so easily leave the Reapers in the dust and allow for herself to to remain untethered in the wind. After all, she had little to no loyalties to Isaac. But there was one factor that remained unsaid that Ryker didn’t know about. And one that would remain guarded until the time came for it to be uncovered. Her sister, the one that she held true loyalties to. And for now, whilst Tess played along to Isaac’s rules, she would as well. Unwillingly. But for her sake. Or perhaps Ryker’s unsaid went along the lines of becoming a turncoat, like the notorious Judas. To flip on the Reapers to become an Angel. She was sure that both notions were intended by his chosen speech — especially as he questioned her on what her thoughts had been on when she tasted Heaven. Not that she would liken the Vetrova mansion the a glimpse of Heaven at all. What a thought. An amused smirk appearing upon her lips at the thought of biting the hand that fed her — Isaac, she began to chuckle darkly at the thought. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t dreamt of that. Or darker thoughts. “Who said I was a hungry dog? But a cute notion, nevertheless.” She replied before moving her gaze to analyse his every feature, her gaze never turning away from his own.

Each moment that they continued in one another’s proximity was dangerous. And here she was playing with fire like she had enjoyed doing so as a child. Perhaps she had never learnt that those who did so would burn. But Evie had never truly been quite careful with her safety. She lived in the moment, and enjoyed every last taste of it. And whilst he could choose to end her life in this one — a recurring thought that remained in the back of her mind, she still persisted in his grasp as he continued on. Raising an eyebrow at the connotations of someone techy, she refrained from chuckling, filing away the admission to chortle with Tess at a later date. She could imagine the look on Tess’s face, the look of outrage to being pigeonholed at the word. And whilst she never quite responded, it was interesting that he was beginning to catch on. How intriguing. But no matter. It was only a matter of time. But his little revelations hardly bothered her when there were bigger fish to fry. Ones she knew would unsettle the Angels the moment that they came to light. “Hm. You do like likening the Mansion as heaven, don’t you?” What a pity that whilst that cocksure grin remained upon his features she was certain he didn’t quite know the little secrets that were beginning to make its way to the surface in his little slice of heaven. Starting with his snow haired little sister. And for all the Gamemaker’s games, how intriguing it would be to see his reaction if he were to even uncover a fraction of the truth. But for now, she could afford for him to remain unbothered, assured of his confidence. After all, she had little to gain for him to discover the truth. For now.

Yet despite all this, how easy it was to remain in such close proximity to Ryker. In each moment that he gripped upon her arm, she could have easily ripped it away from his grasp. But for some reason she hadn’t, quite yet. Despite all the inner conflict that had begun the moment he had yanked her closer towards his figures — making them barely centimetres away from one another. Why was he still holding so tightly upon her arm? Perhaps he was just waiting for the moment to settle, to allow for her defences to lower so that he could go in for the kill. To catch her unguarded as she took in her final breaths. How fitting it would be. To paint the ground crimson in the place aptly named Cherry Woods. But she had known what she had gotten into, the moment she had joined the Reapers. She was to be a soldier, her fate guided by those in charge. Well a boy who played at being a Tsar. But her time would most likely inevitably come at some point amidst the chaos, especially with the growing tensions between both gangs. Nodding at his admission, she knew that the Voight’s were infamous for their lingering part of the archaic war between the Angels and the Reapers. No part of them had been untouched by the bloodshed, and Ryker’s parents were a fine example of this. Licking her lips as he continued, she watched as he finally relinquished his hold upon her as she replied with a glint in her eyes, “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Have Isaac deposed without a single ounce of effort upon your behalf?”

[prizedfox]

ANTONIO MARTINEZ​:

@fvllaccess​

Cosidering how quiet they were actually being, the silence was terribly loud. Things were still a little tense between her and Evie and she could almost feel the other girl’s annoyance at being sent to another mission. She would say she could sense what Antonio was thinking as well, but there probably wasn’t much to figure out. Still, she knew they had been the smart choice for this mission. While they might not be quite back to normal just yet, Evie and Tessa could communicate without words, which had always made them the perfect team and Antonio was here for obvious reasons. Protection - though one could get confused considering just how close he was walking behind her. She could practically feel his presence. Finally, Antonio broke the silence as they were about to enter the mansion. “I am. Once we’re in, I’m going to be focused on getting our little friends safely hidden away so both of you better be on your best behavior.” Her voice was hushed and her gaze mostly directed at Antonio, since there was no doubt Evie would have her back no matter what. “So those eyes better be on our surroundings, though I know that is tough for you,” she teased Antonio, hoping it might release some of the tension. Still, to make sure, she also reached out for Evie’s hand and squeezed it for a second. A sign, they were good, they were here together. Everything would be okay. 

( @punchboy​ )

.

Antonio clears his throat as a quiet interjection, half raising his hand. “Uh, yes, duh. I am always on my best behavior.” With Theresa’s eyes zeroing in on him, though, he doesn’t bother to hide his roguish grin. “But can you go ahead and define best behavior for me? Just so I know. Cause I definitely believe my best is in bed. And I don’t think this situation necessarily calls for that. Yet. I’ll happily show you later, though.” He winks before ushering them both forward with the tilt of his head. “Yes, yes, I get it. This isn’t my first rodeo. I do know how to keep my eyes on the prize,” he looks at Theresa, definitely more towards her chest rather than eye level, “and keep you two from going lights out completely by a hidden shooter.” He tilts his head in the direction of the two doors once more, urging Evelina to make her decision again rather than sit here and wait for everyone’s permission. The stakes were high, after all. Even he knew they couldn’t lounge outside all day trying to unpack this tension or fill the void with tedious reminders he knew by heart when it came to actual missions. “Can we go now or do we want to discuss hair routines, too, while we’re checking up on everyone’s status? I have a reeeeally good one, as you can tell.” Despite all his own quick quips, he was itching for this. Itching to be back out on the field and pound into anyone who did dare to come at one of his teammates. But he sticks near to Theresa still, his hand hovering over the center of her back while never quite touching. Still just waiting for Evelina’s cue. 

.

Thank fuck that she had Tess here to put up with Antonio. She was sure that at some point she would have slapped the back of his head, if it wasn’t for her presence. That or stab one of her knives in his gut so that he would shut his trap. But these thoughts were shoved to the back of her mind as she quickly analysed their surroundings, deciding that it would be acceptable for them to begin their infiltration, noticing that there was a rather lacklustre defence for the supposed prized Vetrova mansion. Rolling her eyes at Antonio’s quick quips, she decided to ignore it, as she squeezed Tess’s hand in response silently, glad that at least if they weren’t completely back to normal that she could trust in their partnership — that they would be there for one another, always. And it was in that security she snorted softly before replying dryly, “Yes Catalyst, we can make a move. But make one wrong move and you won’t live to see the next day. Got it?” She replied as she raised an eyebrow, wanting to make sure that his cocksure attitude wouldn’t result in an injured Tess, otherwise all hell would rain loose upon him — and all bets would be off, Isaac be damned. Glancing back at Tess, she gave a nod for her to begin her decryption just in case Masha had left any nasty little traps for them, knowing that with her abilities it was more than likely that they would need to hack into the mainframe for security purposes.

( @fvllaccess​ )

[prizedfox]

MATEO REYES​:

july 19th, midmorning reaper’s hideout icarus & fox (( @prizedfox ))

     As Mateo finished signing his discharge papers he heard a noise at the door and tried to hide his disappointment when it turned out to be the nurse, ‘I’m sorry Mr. Reyes but your clothes had to be cut off by the paramedics, and there’s no record of any other belongings’ Mateo nodded and tried to kept a smile on his face, he shouldn’t be surprised, or angry for that matter, they had traveled light, not even their usual burner phones, it was and off the books mission after all, and it had almost cost them their lives, but Mateo had hoped to at least get his jacket or his boots. ❝Thank you anyways nurse…?❞ he said handing her the clipboard with the papers, trying not to sound angry. ‘Paulina- Safronova… I- uh I did manage to find you these’ the nurse said giving him a paper bag, Mateo tried to control his facial expressions as he pulled out a very bright red fleece hoodie with ROSNOVY MEDICAL in big white letters plastered across the front, ❝oh- uh thanks, these are great❞ at least the sweatpants were gray, Mateo found comfort in that, ‘I’m sorry they really are all I could find’ Mateo gave her a genuine smile, ❝it’s okay, more than okay really, I’m just disappointed there were no matching sweatpants❞ he joked, ‘oh there were, but you are going to have to wear the slippers so I’m just trying to save as much of your dignity as possible’ the nurse said and they both laughed. 

      It was going to be a long way home, Mateo thought as he walked across the hospital lobby, he regretted not calling a cab, what was he going to do exactly? Fly home? He would freeze, again. Thankfully before he reached the doors one of the younger members ran up to him, a sigh of relief escaped him and Mateo raised an eyebrow, ‘I’m so glad I caught you sir, Mr. Faulkner would’ve killed me if I had missed you’ Mateo glared at him when half a dozen faces turned towards them, ❝let’s go❞ Mateo muttered grabbing the young reaper’s elbow and walking towards the door, nurse Safronova waved at him from the other side of the room, and Mateo waved back, ‘someone made a new friend’ the reaper teased, ❝really? that you notice but you couldn’t think to bring me a jacket?❞ Mateo said, playfully smacking the young reaper on the back of the head, ❝come on.❞ The ride was quiet, the young reaper had apologized for not bringing a jacket, or shoes, or a change of clothes, and made sure to turn up the heater all the way, so that Mateo would not freeze, that had been met with another glare. ❝Where are we going?❞ Mateo asked recognizing the street, ‘Tzar said to drive you to your apartment and keep you company’ the young reaper explained, ❝no…❞ Mateo said shaking his head, ❝let’s go to HQ.❞

      Maybe he was being paranoid, but the last thing Mateo needed was the blood of the young reaper on his hands, when the Angel paying him a visit slit his throat. Or perhaps he just didn’t want to be alone after almost dying, either way he felt safer at headquarters. There was so much Mateo had to do, starting by deciding what to do with what they had witness at the side of Mt. Snovier. Mateo headed for his room, for the last few years he had spent more time living here than at his place, this had always felt more home to him. As he looked for a change of clothes, he could only hope that Anastasia had fared better than him, she had been released earlier than him, his latest studies had shown some unusual strain on his heart, a result of Masha’s visit he was sure. Lost in his thoughts Mateo almost missed someone by the door, ❝oh, hey Evie.❞

The moment that Evie had heard that Mateo had been missing after his mission, Evie’s heart had dropped. She might not have always illustrated her true emotions and how she felt about people except for Tess, and by extension Mateo, but she couldn’t imagine a life where Mateo wasn’t a part of it. Especially since he had such a profound affect upon her life, changing it drastically. Whilst part of Evie’s nature was to be a survivor, to fight with every last breath she had — perhaps without Mateo’s influence she could have died out upon the streets of Rosnovy. And that was a thought that continued to circle around her mind as she hoped that the team searching for both him and Anastasia would come back with fruitful news, and not with a devastating outcome.

Hearing the news through the grapevine that Mateo had appeared back at HQ, she immediately dropped all her current tasks to track him down, as she hadn’t had a chance as of yet to visit him yet at the hospital. And she wanted desperately to see him with her own two eyes to make sure that he was okay. And whilst she didn’t always vocalise this, how much she was glad that he had survived. Moving swiftly through the various rooms, her eyes flickered over the various occupants before noticing a familiar black crop of hair moving towards his usual room, as she began to follow his figure. Her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, she leant against the doorway frame as she took in every movement of his own; a searching for any lasting injuries that might have lasted. “Hey you. How are you feeling?” She asked, with an uncharacteristic softness in her voice as she stepped closer towards the other.

[prizedfox]

THERESA MARTIN:

.

Morning brought with it something that felt surprisingly like a hangover, even though Tessa hadn’t enjoyed the spoils usually leading to such predicaments. Blinking, pictures of the last night reappeared in her memory, making her sigh as she tried to close her eyes to ward off the sunshine flowing in through the window. Avoidance seemed like the best strategy in that moment, that was until she recognized the heavenly smell that must have originated from their kitchen. With a yawn, she sat up and grabbed her glasses while trying to figure out how she felt about everything that had occured last night but coming up without an answer. Maybe breakfast first wasn’t such a bad idea and so she got up. Not bothering to change out of her long sleep shirt, she walked out of her room, towards the marvelous smells. 

Evie’s words made her smile a little, as her gaze travelled over the sheer masses of breakfast foods the other woman had assembled on their kitchen table. It was clear that she probably felt bad about last night and while Tessa wasn’t really at a point to deal with that quite yet, she was willing to take this peace offering for what it was. “If by that you mean enough to feed at least five people, you’re absolutely right.” Her voice was still a little raw from sleep, as she walked over to the table and took a seat. “It looks really nice, Evie,” she admitted with a slight smile on her lips, before clearing her throat. “So, coffee? You know I’m of very little use otherwise.” 

.

Evie wouldn’t deny that she was nervous. To not say that would be to deny the guilt that festered in her lungs, that choked her breath as she awaited for Tess to wake up. Her hands fiddling with the nearest kitchen utensil, she refrained from grabbing the bourbon bottle to pour herself a glass. No, she wouldn’t avoid the inevitable by not being completely sober. At least not for now. She’d see at least in what direction this confrontation with Tess would go before she chose to crack open another bottle or not. Her eyes flickering every so often to the shut door, she awaited for Tess to come out, before moving towards their dining table and reaching over to the coffee pot to pour her best friend one of her favourite drinks. 

“Well, I wasn’t quite sure what you were feeling — so I might have just gone for all of your favourite breakfast dishes.” She replied sheepishly before pouring Tess a cup of coffee, her eyes still moving to analyse Tess’s each minute facial expression almost to gauge where exactly they were. At least they weren’t shouting at each other at this moment. Which Evie would take a positive spin out of all of this. Especially since she felt extremely horrid for how last night had ended. Not even last night. Several hours ago. But perhaps this was a start to mending both of their fences.

[prizedfox]

RAVEN MIRSKY​:

“The lucky ones.” She murmurs, partly to the woman beside her & partly to her own disillusioned mind. Under normal circumstances she might have wallowed in the pessimistic thought landscape a little longer, would have given more consideration to its implications, but not right now. She’s in a somewhat extraordinary situation, for she’s in a company of a reaper. More dangerously, as she discovers when her eyes follow Evie’s movements and when a chuckle slips past her lips at the sight of an alcohol bottle ( of course she’d bring a drink here ), she’s in the company of a reaper whose presence she actually enjoys.

“Sounds like a wonderful idea.” The knowledge that it is, indeed, a horrifically terrible idea doesn’t escape her; yet Raven smiles anyway. She reaches for the bottle in silence, her fingers wrapping around it with ease & familiarity that surprises her — she’s hardly a drinker of stuff that Morozova enjoys. The angel lifts the bottle to her lips. “Here’s to defying the odds by not dying.” She announces, her lips parting so she can take the swig. There’s a burn in her throat as the liquid slides down and it’s not entirely pleasant. As a result, the desire to escape such feeling pulls the corners of her lips down in a show of temporary distaste.

“So, what’s your toast going to be about?” She inquires as she hands the bottle to Evelina, wiping the corner of her mouth with her other hand. “Since mine was about survival, maybe,” she goes quiet again as various options present themselves inside her mind. “Maybe yours should be an ode to having lived since, with the way things are going, there’s no guarantee we’ll see tomorrow.” That wasn’t a threat, by the way. And it really was not. After all, living in Rosvony does have a habit of lowering one’s life expectancy. And when you were a member of either gang? The odds sink even lower.

.

Luck. A word that could symbolise a multiple number meanings, but had always been something that Evelina never truly believed in. She had made her own fate, luck had nothing to do with it. Or perhaps the fates had cursed her to never have an ounce of luck in her own life. That wasn’t so far fetched a notion. Yet at the turn of these not so positive thoughts, she took another swig of her alcoholic beverage, savouring the slight burn that it offered at the back of her throat before it was offered towards Raven. “I’ll drink to that.” She replied with a slight tug upon the sides of her lips as she nodded along to the thought of living to see another day.

Well that or to at least not suffer the moment her life was to come to an end. “Alright, to living life to the fullest.” She announced, before reaching around to crack open another bottle of bourbon, allowing Raven to keep the other drink, as she took a long drink from the bottle she held between her fingers. “You know what Mirsky? You’re not half as bad as some of the shits I’ve met.” She decided to state, the alcohol plying away at her inhibitions as she allowed herself to speak more candidly than she normally would have. That, and she didn’t mind the other Angel, even though she knew that Isaac would probably have her head for this. Well too bad for him, he wasn’t the boss of her even though she imagined that he would like to think that he was.

And perhaps in another life, Raven would have made an excellent best friend to Evie. Well after Tessa of course. But she didn’t mind the other’s company, and she expected that the other probably felt the same, otherwise she probably would have acted much differently when she approached someone of the opposite gang. 

[prizedfox]

ANASTASIA SOKOLOVA — nightingale.

i’m standing in the ashes of who i used to be. and what have i become? who have i become? am i monster? time will only tell.

happy birthday s!! ♥ @nightingvle

[prizedfox]

RYKER VOIGHT​:

.

She doesn’t make a move. Forfeits her turn. Leaving him to hang on to her every word, smirk, laugh. That damnable laugh. It almost has him tripping into his next step, wanting to be near it and nestle in its lightness despite the mini war contained in the small space between them. An empire could collapse for that laugh. It almost might. He lets that step happen. A step unconsciously taken by the allure of her — the allure of an equal. She was now only three short steps away from him. Two. He takes the next one at her soft declaration of impartiality. It isn’t blatant. There isn’t a neon sign flashing ‘ fuck the reapers ’ over her head. But there is an opportunity. A chance. He does extremely well in the game of luck. “His intelligence is,” a pause. Then: “human.” The weight of that word. It is heavy, unbearably so. There is so much fragility that is associated with that word. Fragility, and fallacy. They miscalculated their ability to handle things, people. In Ryker’s unbiased opinion, Isaac was barely holding on as it is. It appeared as if it would take only one scythe, not a winged beast, to prove fatalistic to the man who currently held the keys to the dead. “You should go where you aren’t reduced to a rabid dog to be leashed after you’ve done his dirty work. He has enough dogs.” A simple observation. Not meant to persuade her in the direction of Angels ( not pointedly ), but towards freedom. 

“No. I’m sure those barred from it would think of it as nothing but eternal punishment.” Punishment to gaze upon it, but never be fully immersed in its glory and its offer of nirvana, family, and warmth. “But it was their choice to first turn their eyes away from it.” He comments offhandedly, blaming the damned for this war as easily as every Voight has in the past. They passed the blame, but the Voight’s certainly couldn’t stay away from the call of war themselves either. Rather they craved it. Stroked war’s ire until it arose once more. He’ll say curiosity demanded his next step. Curiosity over her word choice: perfection. Did this mean she enjoyed her seven minutes in heaven? How few strings would he have to pull with this woman to baptist her into the house of the Angels? But rather than get too caught up, he settles his thoughts and focuses again on a question. “Yet Vera Vetrova did not intend for just any pair of eyes to behold her work. There is much meant to be kept private.” He finds he doesn’t have a question then. He leaves it open ended. Her choice. He made a move, and now it was her turn to retaliate. 

Yet, then he finds he wasn’t quite finished with his turn. He did still have a nagging question he wanted to vocalize. Just the one. One that had been prickling at the back of his mind for quite a while. With that, he gobbles up that last step. He completely took the game into his own hands ( literally ) as he reached out to touch. Not her face as he might have wanted to cup her cheek, gently tug her in closer, and… but her right arm. The one where he can’t visibly tell if it is still bandaged or if someone has left a permanent scar to her flesh. He has waited a long time to ask this: “Are you okay?” An incredibly human question. A selfish one. What right did he have to ask? He didn’t. He knew this. But… But she had become like fresh air to him and he wanted to take a deep breath. He can’t escape this constant to need to know, see, be with her — a moth to a flame ( an angel to their damnation ). He rectifies his statement, however, for her. Definitely not for him. “I know you’re fine. I know you’ve felt worse. I know…” He knows there are a million different ways to phrase: ‘ I know you are used to handling yourself and not letting the world see the girl behind the warrior ’. He isn’t used to letting the world see anyone behind the underboss, the gamemaker. He can’t. He also knows they are on different sides and he shouldn’t care but… “Are you okay?” He repeats the question, his fingers not digging but gently prodding at her coat for where he assumed the wound would be. For once, he is careful not to cause any further pain. He simply allows himself to touch. He allows himself to care openly about someone in the dark. In a place where it is just them — no witnesses, no thought police, and no reason but one to deny himself this simple indulgence. 

.

Human. What did it mean to be human? After all, Isaac was incomparably weak when compared to the rest of them. So easily, he could be reduced to a pile of ashes from a single click of a gun. No defences, nothing. And yet, somehow he had ascended to his throne above the Reapers whilst he didn’t contain a drop of power that dripped from their fingers for beings such as Ryker and herself. And perhaps he was simply biding his time, allowing others to view him as weak before he finally struck like a viper coiled about his prey. But she highly doubted it. Especially when she could ever so easily overpower him if she so chose. What a pity she couldn’t care any less. Yet with Ryker’s continued words, she tilted her head to examine him further as he dared to utter the words that she had thought over many a times. After all, what did tie her to the Reapers, and a man who thought himself as a God — no a Tsar? A pathetic one at best. “And where would you suggest I wouldn’t be reduced to a rabid dog?” She replied, another dark chuckle escaping her lips at the thought of escaping the Reapers for something else instead. What a thought. But one that would have to be hidden and buried under her other thoughts for later pondering. After all, she had Tessa to think about. Tessa was and would always be her first priority. And she knew that Tessa’s loyalties were solely held with the Reapers. At least, for now.

Raising an eyebrow at his seeming praise for the Angels and the Mansion itself, Evie’s smirk reappeared upon her lips. His almost fanaticism bemused her, because it reminded her of Yelena and Tanya’s views upon the archaic war that divided so many families, and had resulted in bodies dipped with blood and mounted as a public display of  violence and retribution. And as he continued his steps towards her, lessening the distance, she found herself that she was extremely conflicted at his motions. At each continued step that brought him closer, she wondered she want him nearer? Or did she want the distance to separate them, to allow for herself an escape. To be able to burrow away in the off chance he decided to take advantage of their close proximity. And yet with these thoughts, her attention then diverted again to his continued musings, as she raised an eyebrow at the thought of the Mansion to be private. “Perhaps she should have thought of a superior security system then.” She replied, as she thought over how easily they had broken into the Mansion, and how easy both Tess and herself and found themselves navigating their way through the various levels, and allowing her access to hidden secrets that she was sure were supposed to stay locked away from prying eyes.

And yet the moment her attention was taken away from Ryker, he dared to take a final step to bring himself before her. The gap decimated in a few silent minutes, she finally allowed herself to gaze directly into his eyes for the first time that night. Earlier she had gazed at his shifting features, analysing each and every action to predict what movement she would have to make next. But she had avoided direct contact, not trusting what secrets might be revealed in each gaze. And as he tugged her gently towards his figure, she almost wanted to yank her arm out of his grasp, yet for some reason, she allowed him to remain. Shuddering as a cold blast of wind hit the clearing and the pair that were in the exposed air, she bit her lip — debating how exactly she was to answer his continual questionings. How was she? Not even Tess knew the truth of what had happened that night. And how the tumultuous emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface since the Festival still festered like a raw wound. And perhaps it hadn’t been the bullet that had hurt most, but the anger that had arose because she was sick of Isaac’s posturing. Irritated that she had to play soldier to a boy who knew nothing of what it meant to contain real power. And at the end of this, she didn’t know if she could trust Ryker with the girl that lay beneath the facade. If she could allow him to indulge in just one taste of what it meant to truly be Evelina Morozova. Her eyes briefly closing as he prodded gently at the wound, she finally licked her lips as she replied softly, “I wasn’t. But I’ll be okay.” A simple answer, one that allowed him to glimpse a peek of what was held beneath. And one she could have perhaps elaborated further. But right now in this moment, no further answers could come to mind when all she could do was wonder how exactly they had ended up in this position.

[fvllaccess]

- FOX.

Just how exactly had they got to this point? She felt so exhausted, and the anger and exasperation that had settled at the back of her mind at Isaac, and to a certain extent Tessa began to dissipate at the look on her best friend’s features, disappointed with herself with how she had handled being shot. To be completely honest, she hadn’t wanted to exactly face Tessa when she was still volatile with irritation that could have exploded and landed upon someone she considered her sister, especially when it wouldn’t have helped their whole situation. That, and her default mechanism to having been shot had been to escape. It had always been her comfort, and before she had created any meaningful connections with any other, it hadn’t meant anything for her to disappear for days on end. But this was all different with Tessa by her side.

“You’re right.” She replied softly with a small sigh, knowing that Tessa was more than likely correct. But her wounds and battle scars that she had endured from previous fights had eventually knitted together, and if it hadn’t, she would have gone out in search of someone with a healing power, or even the Angel — Sebastien, in order to heal the knitted bone. Not that she was going to mention this to Tessa. She knew that she had hurt her friend deeply, and whilst she felt a responsibility of guilt mounting upon her shoulders, she also just wanted to erase the past day and have them not all up in arms about this. Not that she was sure they would at all at this point. 

“I should have contacted you the moment I got a second.” She agreed, knowing that the moment she had received multiple text messages from Tessa, her gut instinct had been to turn off the phone, especially since it had been on such low battery already. “It’s just, I got stuck in escape mode once the shots were fired, and Anastasia was my first priority.” Well she had been when it had come to escaping the bar, and she was sure that Isaac would have been proud. She had put the Reapers first against her own agenda, and for once she had saved another’s life in the midst of this. She was sure he would have some savoury words for her once she arrived back at the compound. Not that she wouldn’t throttle him first for putting her in the fucking Festival in the first place. 

“I just wasn’t thinking. The alcohol and just a culmination of things, I should have called you Tess — I’m sorry.” She finally ended, running a hand through her ragged mess of a hair as she moved closer towards the other so that she could inspect the wound. Upon first gaze, she knew it wasn’t deep, and the wound didn’t hurt enough for her to warrant any pain medication, so Evie couldn’t say that she was completely worried about the gunshot wound. But she knew that Tessa desired to inspect it, and so who was she to prohibit her from doing so? A small yawn escaping her lips as she looked out to see the sun begin to peek its rays out from beneath the clouds, the guilt continued to arise as Tessa asked what she had been doing in between the hours of getting shot and finally arriving at the apartment.

And whilst she didn’t want to completely reveal the truth, (that was for her shame alone), she knew that if she didn’t partially reveal some sort of truth that Tessa would become even more angered than she already had been. “I just couldn’t think straight, I had to get away.” She began, closing her eyes briefly as she remembered how angered she had been once she had left Anastasia and thought about how much she desired to rip Isaac’s head off. “And my phone was on such low battery, I just powered it off to conserve it before getting away from Central Rosnovy to get my thoughts together. I was just so angry Tess — I didn’t even want to be at the Festival in the first place.” And look where it had fucking landed her. With a bullet wound, and her fighting with her best friend.

.

“Yes, you really should have.” At least Evie knew that now, at least she was willing to admit that perhaps running off without contacting Tessa at all had been a crap idea. The true question, however, was whether she would do it differently should something like that happen again (or rather when, considering their lifestyle choices). In the end, there was no way for her to know that though. The mention of Ana made her features soften a little as she nodded. “I know, I’ve heard she was wounded way worse. She probably owes you her life for getting her out of there.” She knew Evie wouldn’t want her to say how proud she was about that and so she didn’t. 

Inspecting Evie’s wounds, she could see her yawning out of the corners of her eyes and it only reminded her of how tired she was herself. How drained she felt after all the hours of worrying. There was probably not much that could still be accomplished tonight and so she simply listened to Evie’s explanation as to where she had been, while she cleaned the wound and dressed it, properly this time. 

Her explanation was just that, an explanation. Not an excuse, that much was for sure. Part of Tessa could understand the strong instinct to flee but another part of her wondered whether her own instinct wouldn’t be to flee to Evie, instead of away. Pressing her lips together, she nodded. “For what it’s worth, I am glad you’re okay.” Letting go of her best friends arm, she leaned back to look at the other. “I guess I just thought… I don’t know, I thought here would be the first place you would run to, even if you were angry at me for dragging you to the festival.” Wincing slightly, she realized she probably sounded cruel, despite her efforts. 

“There isn’t much we can do about any of it now though. Maybe I just need some sleep and a bit of time to gather my thoughts.” Standing up, she stretched and then looked back down to the other brunette. “I… I’m only this mad because… I don’t know - I thought we are a team. The best team.” A bitter grin formed on her lips, before she pointed at the kitchen. “Get some water before you sleep, you know you’ll be miserable tomorrow otherwise.” And with those words, she walked off to her room, leaving Evie behind on the couch. Part of her wanted to walk back and give the other a tight hug, enjoy the comfort of their connection but right now she needed to be for herself. She needed to sort through all the conflicting emotions and thoughts that were warring inside her and most of all, she needed to sleep. 

END.

[prizedfox]

RYKER VOIGHT:

.

A pause. A breath. “Hm,” all he says. A distant hum on his lips as the gears in his head began to twist, gathering all his thoughts. It was interesting, to say the least. These reapers and their fickle loyalty. They are so quick to bend rules or modify, never fully discard, their loyalties, and all under the all-seeing eye of Faulkner. Did he even see how his pawns spilled secrets like candy jars and opposed him in this never-ending war? From a few words Ryker could already tell his dog chased the wrong bone. A bone who conspired against him, and spoke ill of him as well as others, too. Like dear Evelina. How unfortunate for him. These reapers only worship freedom and death. Not him. It must be hard to tie all these strings together when there was always someone snipping at the threads; whether an angel or his very own reapers. “Good to know.” The only thing he says after long minutes ticked by without a word. Only her next step was taken. Taken right before she divulges the answer to his first and second question. So, she had been one of the worms who thought to listen in on the Angels. His very own home. 

An impression of a laugh mars his lips. She invaded his space. He invaded hers, too. What had she seen as she stomped past heaven’s gates and gazed upon the promised land? Did she enjoy the small taste of his paradise? There was so much more he could offer. And if she had so gladly invaded his space, what had her slowly gnawing at the space between them now? How could she invade his home but hesitate to invade him? Why did he act the same? While they had cut the distance between them in half, there was still more they could eat away at. But they both seemed to take their time and reveled in doing as such. He couldn’t quite indulge in her fully. Not yet. Though his eyes did swipe a glance at her state — upright despite her recent fallibilities. 

“A strong hunch.” He confirms. “Faulkner is so quick to send you.” Why is that? A question not for her, but for himself. Perhaps the king of the dead knew he could afford her and she would obey unlike an Orlova or his other more remiss recruits. She was useful, at least, and loyal to a point ( a knife’s point ) despite her gripes. “He should learn to change up the batting order. Being the prime instigator makes it hard to get around. You become more of a neon sign instead of a shadow.” He gobbles up two steps then. Closer, so much closer. He could almost begin to reach out and touch, but his hands grip his biceps in their crossed state still. He could count the steps it would take to reach her, though. Four. Four measly steps. He could take them now. He won’t. He could. Yes. No. No. He asks his next question instead: “What did you see when you stomped into heaven?” Anything you like? That question an immediate follow up in his head, but left unasked. 

.

How easy it could be to step closer and come closer to the figure that still was held at arms length away from herself. Yet here she was refraining. From indulging in that just yet. It wasn’t that she held the archaic grudge that had been held for centuries between both gangs, nor did she fear what could be tasted between the thick tension that held between herself and Ryker. But that she knew that with each tentative step each of them took — it could lead them down a pathway that she was certain would not prove fortuitous to the either of them. Oh well, they said the path to hell paved with good intentions. Not that either of them had good intentions usually. And perhaps she should have been more careful with her fickle loyalty that lay her on a thin line between both the Angels and the Reapers, but she couldn’t help but not care for where the chips fell. Perhaps if she had been coaxed by someone who truly knew her value, and didn’t command his soldiers seated behind his pretty little throne she would have cared more. But she didn’t. And look where she was now.

Her arms still folded as her gaze remained ever watching of Ryker, a sly smirk appeared upon her lips as she wondered if the Gamemaker for all his little whisperers and shadows knew as much as she. Or perhaps if his precious Shadow had begun to uncover what she knew about the youngest white haired Voight. How ironic it would be if she was the one to hold all the cards. Yet these thoughts were to be acted upon a later impulse, as she watched Ryker begin to close the distance between the pair of them. And perhaps she could have taken a step further towards him. But she remained. Ever watching, her smirk remained as she returned the dark chuckle at his assumptions. Of course. It was ever predictable, was it not? And she hadn’t been surprised when Isaac had chosen her to lead the mission. After all, she was one of the most dangerous Reapers. And they would be sorely lost without her there. What a pity he was only utilised as a means of end. Until she had a better offer or chose differently.

“Isn’t he always?” She replied, a knowing look appearing upon her features, as she shifted her stance, watching as he continue to move forward, their bodies in much closer contact with another. Bemused by Ryker’s continued musings, she let loose another chuckle at the notion of her being as notorious as a neon sign, or of it being difficult to get around the city.  She already had a target painted upon her back as a Reaper. But she couldn’t care any less. “Whilst he could be prized for some of his strategy, I’m afraid he truly isn’t as intelligent as he seems.” She replied, before finally taking a single step towards him, her gaze never shifting from his own before her smirk widened at his next question. What did she see? What didn’t she see? That was the real question. But he hadn’t asked, so she wouldn’t answer that. “Heaven? I’m not sure everyone would call it that.” She hummed before finally deciding to answer, “A castle paved to perfection, as I’m sure their maker intended so.” But one with its secrets, even from its own inhabitants.

[stars-bean]

She’s the Man (2006) dir. Andy Fickman

[prizedfox]

RYKER VOIGHT​:

A flicker of indignation. Sharp. His thumb slides along his forefinger, hands refusing to tighten even as his muscles go taut. He could be livid, or he could play along. He always plays along. Better than all. She shoots a question of her own. His thumb slides again. A tick. “There is nothing I don’t find out. The shadows and all their whispers belong to me.” A shadow has nestled itself against the curve of his ear, wantingly, in fact, and he always had his fill. Though, he gorged himself on a different source today: Faulkner’s desk. The very man they both, somehow, despised with their entire beings had gifted him new knowledge he briskly tucked into his coat pocket and in the back of his mind. A future game he’d thoroughly enjoy. The exploits of one sided knowledge, it was an unrivaled feeling. He would love to see how this secret would make one writhe and squirm under the crushing weight of his games. 

Then she takes a step. One step. He tightens. His teeth grind. His fingernails dig into his biceps and itch. Itch for what? He won’t say. “I know,” he finally says as her words register. “There wouldn’t be a discussion at all if you had.” The one who had shot his shadow should count their blessings. Ryker would have had them thrashing, flailing, and screaming in purgatory until they begged for hell. He takes a step then to match her own. Just one. An allowance. Her confirmation already blurring that fucking line that kept them on two different sides. It was his turn then. He already knows his question. It is the same one only differently worded. Pushed out through thinned lips and grinding teeth and so throaty. “Where did Faulkner send you and his faithful dog?” He wasn’t even going to humor her then. Make comments on how he’d keep Martinez on a leash for good or that she should not waste her time with dogs and dine with finer beings such as he. Though, that isn’t to say he doesn’t believe that as much as he always has. He still thinks she should. It would make all of this less complicated. But, they couldn’t have that. Stories were always better when they were inherently tragic.

.

Perhaps she could have played less coy, and acquiesced to his unspoken demands for her to comply. But that wouldn’t be as amusing would it? And she quite enjoyed to play with fire. That and, well she hadn’t seen him quite as rattled as this in such time. Perhaps she should have had further compassion for the man. After all if it had been Tess that had been caught in the crossfire — well. Heads would have rolled. Thousands slaughtered in her name. But alas, it hadn’t been. It had been Francesco — and she was sure that he would have been fine especially with Sebastien on their side. “I don’t doubt you do.” She murmured, her eyes alight with a minute amount of mischief before she took another step towards him, matching his for her own. Her eyes ever analysing his every moment she watched as he dug his fingernails into his skin — was she rattling him? The Gamemaker disconcerted? She highly doubted so. But nevertheless, this would make for an amusing night. That or at least an entertaining final moment.

Tilting her head slightly, her fingers itched for another lit cigarette, or perhaps even some bourbon to wash down this conversation. Well perhaps not the conversation, or the fact that she was indulging in her whims yet again being in his presence. “He’s only faithful when his beloved mistress is by his side.” She replied, a bemused smirk appearing upon her lips, at the thought of Antonio playing the faithful lapdog to Tanya. Another thought for another time. And perhaps Isaac was going to eviscerate her for her next words, but she couldn’t help but not care. He had done her dirty, and she had never quite been interested in playing the Reaper’s games anyways. Not unless she saw a need for herself — or if Tess had specifically asked her to. “To the Vetrova Mansion. But you had an inkling I was involved in that weren’t you?” She replied, not fazed by his taut figure, one that seemed ready to explode. She couldn’t help but wonder if she had set the flaming match with her words, especially since what she had discovered with his oh so precious favoured icy blonde sister. Time would only tell.