While he walked away, she lingered in the hallway, staring down at the cold stone floor beneath her. As usual, she didnât feel the temperature on the bare skin of her feet. It was one part of her reconditioning that had yet to fail her.
One of her hands came up, pulling the visor free from her head while the other ran through her violet hair before finally she decided to return to her bedroom. Sleep was seldom something she required, but tonight she would find it, only after she secured the locks on her doors and windows, and then checked them all once more.
Come early morning, she would emerge and make her way to one of the balconies on the other side of the manor from the courtyard where the two Talon agents spent the previous night. She lit up a cigarette as the sunlight began to creep through the trees in the east, leaning forward to rest her forearms on the railing in front of her. It was a habit of Amelieâs that she still would occasionally visit when the mood struck, and after the stress of yesterday the mood had definitely struck.
A sigh of smoke left her lips and her eyes, ever so slightly bloodshot, gazed out at the water that had begun to glisten gold with the sun. Once again, she had returned to her numbness. Her body and mind were now settled, after all, the years Talon spent rewiring every piece of her were not in vain. All it took was a bit of down time before it resumed its control over the Widow.
She glanced behind her, briefly wondering where in her home the Reaper had wandered off to. Had he stayed? She wasnât sure. He was unpredictable, as heâd displayed hours prior. She reached into her back pocket, pulling out her phone to check for any communications or anything to alert her to the status of their agency. She felt what she assumed was likely relief when she found that there were no updates, their internal line still disconnected for now.
He had slept in the room he had left his belongings in. An undisturbed few hours without the invasion of consciousness, brought on in part by the poison he had inhaled. He returned to the land of the living calmly, quietly, before gasping for breath and clawing at his throat. Physical manipulations aside, breathing had never been the same since the explosion in ZĂŒrich, and the poison had exasperated that without doubt.The effects did not last long, but it would likely be uncomfortable for a while. Fitting, considering his current circumstances.
Without anything specific to leave the room for, he remained there in silent stillness. It was only when the smell of tar and nicotine laden smoke wove through the air that his senses returned more keenly to the environment around him. It did not remind him of the memory of Amélie specifically, but of other people he had known, the French members amongst the teams of Overwatch, an intelligence officer from his covert unit, most all of the serving military he had known. Himself, his old habits. The fragments of memory did not last, but his state of alertness did, eventually calling him beyond the confines of the otherwise comfortable guest room and to the escape pack he had assembled months earlier.
He rarely lingered in day light out of choice, early or otherwise, but a few notions lead him outside. The practical elements of his coat were of no current use, and so he dressed only in the black pants and grey shirt he had long ago decided was a discreet enough alternative. His feet remained uncovered, padding across the cool cobblestone floor without concern. It was only somewhat easier to breathe through what temporarily felt like scorched air passages without his, but it was enough for him not to care to remain hidden, and so his face remained uncovered as well.
The areas around his eyes didn't feel as bad as they looked, the deep grey space around his eyes taking on gradual, deeper purple bruised tones from within. After effects of poison that had not managed to do any long term damage to his body, but had affected it nonetheless. Where his skin had once hungrily absorbed the sun, retaining deep golden hues and youthful vibrancy long after he had outgrown it, his colour had since faded into shades of ash, as if no longer able to retain life as it once had. He knew of today's addition only in passing a reflective surface on his way through the manor - he made no effort to look in mirrors anymore.
She was unsurprisingly the source of the scent, which he did not follow and yet ended up at all the same. While he was not intending to be stealthy, his bare feet made little sound as he crossed the stone, coming to lean against the base of the statue where they had sat previously, arms crossed and watching across what he could see of the water. Not directly in her sight should she turn around, but not hiding either. Not directly watching her figure against the railing, yet noticing the movement as she checked her phone.
âStill nothing?â he asked, his voice without malice or threat, but otherwise unchanged from usual. Giving no indication that anything was amiss between them. He didnât particularly want to strike up a conversation with the spider, but figured it polite to at least indicate that he was still present in her home.
ellievsbear
blakekathryn
kaledo-art
andulkaphoto
jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline
2087
snowghoul
