whiskey glasses.

RHETT — when i was a kid i saw my bones crack open and all the things i’ve been hiding from you spill out all the secrets that i never thought i’d tell anyone about! i am warm and i am bored and i am drifting through this place & i wish that i’d never met a lot of the people that i’ve met not because i “don’t like” them but because i only let them down.

[rhcttp]

ofaconitum‌:

“we need to work on your accent. well, accents. you’re too noticeable.” brigitte wasn’t holding back her own french accent, but that was mostly so she could use it as an excuse to not interact with certain people. plus, she had a small glimmer of hope that someone would talk about something important in front of her, no thinking she could speak english. “did you get that tailored?”

“My accent?” Rhett repeats, both slightly off-guard and offended, “In all fairness I’m not meant to be chattin’ up anyone of value. Just teammates. My accent can stay just as was.” Her question, albeit fair, embarrasses him a little. “If I’m honest, I bought them at the Walmart this mornin’.” He doesn’t mention having to had text his mother for his measurement - she still had his graduation suit from high school holed up in the garage - and he certainly won’t be the first to admit the several sizes he’s gone up in the last ten years. “I reckon my lunch was too big today. Makes for some ill-fits.”

[rhcttp]

ofaconitum‌:

“you know, you’d look a lot more sophisticated if you wore suits more often.” hayes wore them all the time; he practically always wore them when he was on the job. “patience, young one. these things aren’t as predictable as one might think.” hayes lifted a hand to gently slap rhett’s hand away from his tie. “and stop doing that.”

The corners of his lips fall to frown like a petulant child, and he tucks his smacked hand under his arms in a silent protest. “You’re telling me with all them there experience, you ain’t even got an inkling of what comes next?”

[rhcttp]

nellbernthal‌:

“Women like me?” She almost snorted, a delicate brow coking in what was obvious amusement. He certainly wasn’t the first man to claim she was mildly terrifying–even if just as a joke. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked before continuing a  moment later. “Couple of years, at least. Crocs are comfy as fuck.” 

“More trouble than she’s worth,” he chides, shaking his head immediately to avoid offense. “I dunno, I think the theme was ‘if she can kick your ass, run for your life’. You got nothin’ to worry about unless she can catch you.” Rhett tips his glass, raising his eyebrows as if he was letting her in on a big secret. “Then you gotta marry her.”

[ofaconitum-blog]

brigitte excused herself from some random gentleman - well, an older gentleman who had been quite disgusting - and made her way to a couch for a bit of a break. “this party is so exhausting. how do people attend these things regularly?” 

[rhcttp]

“You’re asking the wrong cowboy, ranger.” Rhett laments, adjusting uncomfortably in his seat. “Think my pants are too small. A fella can’t breathe in this environment.” 

[rhcttp]

ungodlie‌:

Another sigh. Isaac scratches at the back of his neck, wondering why the everloving fuck Command let loose the the junior agents on a mission of this scale. He’s sure the contempt is obvious on his expression, but Rhett is trying to be helpful – as much as he can, anyway – and so Isaac schools his features into something more neutral. 

“First thing,” he raises his fingers in the space between them, “stop talking so damn much. But that would be something resembling a good idea, yep.” He nods once and finishes the rest of his drink before gesturing for Rhett to lead the way.

Rhett gives a silent salute with the shrimp tail, and begins the trek, weaving through the crowd awfully gracelessly. He almost takes out not one, but three cocktail waiters before they even reach the emptied hall, but he couldn’t be more indifferent. 

“My French is terrible, but ..” he apologizes, waving a hand towards the three doors along the wall, “At least one of those has gotta say restroom, right? Maybe they’re in there.”

[rhcttp]

nellbernthal‌:

“I’m an alcoholic, so it’s different.” She quipped back without hesitation, the smile that’d been toying on her lips threatening now to widen into a grin. It was hard to make pleasant small talk with her fellow agents as well as several constituents and other party-goers (so as not to look suspicious), but she did so nonetheless with a little grit and a lot of determination. But Rhett made it slightly easier by throwing back jokes as well. “Well, I won’t say anything to the execs if you play it cool. Can’t promise Hayes and Lombardi haven’t already noticed, though.” She commented back after a beat of silence that’d been occupied by her gaze rolling down to take in the pointed black books in question. “Wear stilettos long enough and they’ll feel exactly like boots, buddy. Scouts honor.” 

He lets out an almost pained sigh, brows crumpling at the thought of strappy heels on his own oafish figure. ”Pretty sure I’ve been raised to fear women like you, so. Color me impressed,” Rhett raises his water glass in a mock cheer to her shoe wear, “How long until they’re as comfortable as crocs? That’s the real test of time.” 

[rhcttp]

ungodlie‌:

He drops Rhett’s arm with a poorly disguised sigh and tugs at his collar again. It’ll become a habit if he’s not careful. Regardless, Isaac gives Rhett a second once-over and tries not roll his eyes. “Really helpful, mate, thanks.” Another sigh, this time more directed at the general disaster known as Executive Command and less towards this particular agent. “Any chance you know where I can find someone with a little more clearance?”

Rhett blinks, wondering if he’s serious. “Brother I’m the bottom barrel. You’d be hard pressed to find anybody with less clearance than me.” He looks around momentarily, wondering where he’s meant to dispose of the shrimp tail still between his fingers. “Pretty sure I saw a big wig or two out in the other hall. They sent me on a snack run - dunno how serious they really were, or if they just wanted me to scram - but I reckon they haven’t moved far. I’ll take you there?”

[deathsknife]

Isaac tugged loosely at his collar. His tie was too tight. The room was too hot. He needed a cigarette. He needed more drinks than his body could sustain. He needed, above all, to not be so goddamned jittery. In retrospect, the quad shot of espresso before duty was ill-advised, but better to be jumping off the walls than asleep in the corner, he supposed. Isaac couldn’t remember the last full night’s sleep he got, and doubted there’d be one for him any time soon.

“Hey,” he caught the elbow of the nearest recognisable operative. “any news on moves Command want us make right now besides drink Kuznetsov’s booze and eat his food?” He did a quick sweep before tapping his earpiece. “All quiet on the western front.”

[rhcttp]

Rhett’s caught with half a shrimp between his teeth when Isaac pulls him to the side, and he can’t offer more than a half hearted shrug to answer the other agent’s question. “’Pretty sure you’re the one I’m supposed to find that out from,” he says once he swallows, confusion in his tone. “Last anyone told me: eat, drink, be merry, don’t touch nothing expensive. Those were my orders.”

[ofaconitum-blog]

it had been a long time since hayes was in the field, but… it was a little exciting. he was a little rusty on the undercover bit, but he was doing alright. he just stuck to the charm and tried to talk mostly to his own team. he took a deep breath and took a sip of his drink. “everyone seems to have gone all-out on their outfits.”

[rhcttp]

“I’m looking forward to getting out of this monkey suit,” Rhett says honestly, tugging at his tie uncomfortably, “How much longer before something happens?”

[rhcttp]

nellbernthal‌:

Nell couldn’t help but offer a soft chuckle, not only in response to his quip about what sounded like humble country hometown problems, but to the commentary on her own range of skill as well. Before the Circle even had her on their radar, Nell remembered clocking hours at the gym and in the training room with her dad and the handful of instructors hired to teach the Bernthal children a number of various fighting styles. Her training at the Circle just honed in on the pent up aggression she always held and turned her into a more precise, more poised fighter. “Very gentlemanly of you,” she quipped, leaning away a tad to sit up, her shoulders set straight. “What’s it about you boy scout types that makes you run right to the bar as soon as you get to a party?” She teased. 

       “I reckon I could ask you to answer the same thing, since I’m fairly certain this was your first stop of the night, too,” he points out, and it feels a little too bold but the rules don’t seem terribly straightforward this evening. “It’s the only familiar spot I could find,” Rhett answers anyway, slightly abashed by his own honesty, “And that ain’t the scout in me, that’s the redneck. I’m learning they don’t like my type none too much in these here fancy, uh ... establishments. Almost couldn’t get in the door with my here boots.” Rhett raises the heel of one foot so his trousers ride up a few inches, revealing the edge of a black cowboy boot that - while definitely clean - was definitely not up to dress code. “Definitely earned a citation for myself when we all mosey back to hq, but ...” he shrugs, indifferent about it now, “Least I’m comfortable. Can you say the same?”

[rhcttp]

nellbernthal‌:

Nell snorted, her smile hiking upwards in a more genuine way as she watched the junior agent reach around her to dig for peanuts. “Hey, buddy–” She started, the humor clear in her now-hushed tone as she worked off his evident distaste regarding the life of a probie. It helped to clear her own head for a moment, of thoughts about how important the mission there were all on was. “You’re just as much an agent as anyone else, considering just being in makes you guilty of treason.” She leaned in a tad closer than he had, putting them in what she assumed was probably an uncomfortable proximity before whispering in a slightly more serious tone. “But when it comes to the ruckus, we can count on you to lend a hand if you need to, right?”

“Treason, well. That’s good. Bet my mama’s bookclub’ll love to hear what my latest shenanigans have gotten me into,” he jokes, and he can hardly keep from breaking the serious expression she demands behind her hushed tone. “I know you damn well could take the biggest guy in here,” Rhett tells her honestly, hoping his breath doesn’t smell too much like the snack still in his palm, “If you need somebody to jump in and take all them little men that get in your way to get the big gun, I’ll be first to swing. Scout’s honor.” 

[gabecarter-blog1]

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” Gabe all but squawked, having quickly fumbled his cup of coffee in his hurry to connect his mic to their mobile earpiece, nearly spilling it on the keyboard. He’d stayed behind to try to play intelligence agent for all the rest of the agents, figuring even if it was all hands on deck, they’d be blind without at least one person working behind the scenes. Besides, he hated tuxedos. 

[rhcttp]

        Rhett stops dead in his tracks in what is probably the most unnatural motion a human being can muster. “Uh...” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck as he peers around to see if anyone had noticed. Other than a few scattered members of the wait staff, the hallway seemed pretty clear. “I can’t take a piss?” he frowns, ducking his chin slightly to speak into his own mic. It’s that same moment he realizes the door he’d had his hand on was clearly not a men’s room, but something else entirely. “Oh.” Rhett says, but in that same moment his curiosity is piqued. “Well. What’s in there?”

[agcntcerberus-blog]

“Food isn’t that bad,” Lorenzo commented idly between bites of something off an overpriced, over the top charcuterie plate. It wasn’t common for members of the executive command to be in the field, but this particular mission required extra hands for more than one reason. “Maybe I’ll make a campaign contribution after all.”

[rhcttp]

     Rhett follows suit digging into his own small dish, but his uncertainty is clear as day in his face as he tries to remember if he was even supposed to be at this table. He wasn’t sure what the protocol was in scenarios like this - fieldwork with the top tier, now that was interesting - and he figures with all the trouble he’s been in lately, he can’t afford to muck it up this time. So instead of agreeing quietly and excusing himself, he decides to take a leap. Because. Well. Why not? “I think it’s awful,” he admits softly, folding a napkin over the remainder of his plate, “The prosciutto tastes like sand. Uh, sir.”

[freshmoviequotes]

The Happytime Murders (2018)

[stellaochoa-blog]

“Yet if hope has flown away, in a night, or in a day, in a vision, or in none, is it therefore the less gone?” Stella started to quote as she approached a familiar figure at the bar. She looked in good spirits, a small smile gracing her lips as she continued to quote the famous poem that’d come to mind when she entered the gala. But her looks did not match the frenzied eagerness she felt inside to end this mission on a good note, nor the general weight the gravity of such a mission put on her shoulders. 

Still, as she sidled up the the bar, she skipped over the most famous line in the works she’d been reciting before, choosing instead to comment on the circumstance of the night. “Feels unreal, doesn’t it?”

[rhcttp]

     Rhett makes a big show of pinching his own shoulder and pulling a face before reaching into the bowl for a couple of peanuts. “Everything feels pretty real to me,” he chides, popping a few past his lips. “Reckon you’ve got a little more to look forward to than I do, though,” he tacks on, leaning over then like he had a big old secret to share. “Ya’ll get a ruckus to tumble in, and I get to take a quiz on it. I’ll be rootin’ for you, though.”

[rhcttp]

ofhawkeyex‌:

infiltration of the kuznetsov gala – open. (capping this to 4 replies)

“Can we please just focus—oh boy” Daniel tried to conceal his grimace when he went from trying to subtly tell a fellow agent to leave the food alone to watching in mild horror as another agent got a little too much in character and spun some random chic around rather passionately as they danced. Daniel, on the other hand, was starting to feel the stress. Perhaps that was bound to happen, being one of the new field agents around. He took a deep breath and tried to relax his shoulders while attempting to fight off every worst-case scenario that flashed through his mind.

      “I’m here to watch you, boss-man,” Rhett reminds gently, settling more comfortably against the wall. He’d been out on the field about a half dozen times at this point, but always either with a) a “babysitter”, or b) stuck with cases like this, where his duty for the night was entirely limited to observation. Granted it’s always fun - big events like this - to the extent that he could play grown up, but the water in his cup was a daunting reminder he wasn’t yet welcome to the big kid’s table. Drunk junior agents were too much of a flight risk, apparently. “Now which of these jokers ought we focus in on?” he drawls, bringing his glass up to his lips. His gaze flickers towards the edge of the room, doing his best to analyze each party guest for something memorable. “Reckon the husky one could be a bit of trouble?” Rhett guesses, but this isn’t his strong suit. 

[rhcttp]

agent [ rhett payton ] better known as [ agent buck ] is a [ twenty-eight ] year old [ junior agent ] from [ tallahasee, fl ]. they’ve been with the circle for [ four years ] and it’s noted on file that they’re often mistaken for [ max thieriot ]. the three songs they use to unwind are [ whiskey glasses / morgan wallen, portland, maine/tim mcgraw & drowns the whiskey/jason aldean ]. if asked, people might associate them with [ camo baseball caps, beer by the fire, mama’s home cooking, and a rifle above the doorway ]. 

I’m gonna keep it cute and condensed~

Background:

born and bred redneck

hunting/fishing/four-wheeling from the time he could stand up

grew up in a trailer park just outside the city

spent 6 years going back and forth to college trying to decide if a degree was really worth it

worked on a fishing boat up until he decided to get into law enforcement, and managed to impress enough people that he somehow got into this shindig 

Personality:

quiet, stoic type at first, but kind of a giant goober when you actually listen to the dumb shit he says

when he’s not actively fuckin around in the woods with his hometown friends, he’s like an 80 year old man. 

give him a cable box and a thirty rack and he’ll be happy for weeks

he lives alone with two rottwielers - Bella and Scooch - who are the only two females he’s managed to keep around

despite that, he really is a southern gentleman ... super dorky but big ol heart of gold

probably clever enough to get into the program, but also definitely a victim of happenstance ... he’s a bright guy, but 90% of the shenanigans he gets into are totally a fluke

i.e., this job

he constantly feels like he’s on the verge of being fired but even if he is, he’s a bit of a vagabond anyhow so he’ll figure it out