@royalechiffre - Tumblr Blog

Crossed plans

Closed thread for @royalechiffre

7pm.

Two hours of overtime. Quite normal for a Friday night. Tatjana hummed a tune while packing her stuff up for the weekend. She was tired, but satisfied. Today she was able to get through the new data, collected by a doubleO, about a spectre member that was new on the radar for MI6. Promising data for sure. Something was fishy about this man, even for spectre standarts.

Tatjana had posted the new Infos in the main frame to get overlooked by Q next Monday, eager to see the reaction. This man, drug dealer or pimp, or whatever he was - he had his fingers quite in a lot of businesses - seemed to be worth of doubleO attention.

Well, not her business. She did her work.

Her laptop bag hung at her shoulder as she went out and to her car. The ride was a drag, of course by the day and time, and as she arrived finally her place she was wondering if she should have an calm night at home, or if she should have a drink in the pub nearby her flat.

It was darkish already, as she parked in front of her flat complex and, becoming aware how tired she was, decided to call for food delivery.

x

After she got no verbal responds Tatjana thought it wiser to hold her tongue for now. She watched her host, wondering what goes on in his mind.

The silence in the room uncomfortable to her, her whole body was tense. The moment he settled so casual, with this so normal gesture, the weapon on the table, she start to tremble. She had to press her fists on her knees to stop her legs from shaking.

This scene that unfolded in front of her; the flickering candles, the scent of the wine he poured her, the noises of the cuddlery, was surreal. A play on stage and she had no text book. She eyed her cuddlery aside her plate to see disappointed there was no sharp knife, just a butter knife and and a fish knife.

She got thrown out of her thoughts by the sudden question.

“I - no. Not lucky.”, she started and focused fully on Herr Ziffer. “I don’t believe in luck, as I don’t believe in coincidences. I consider me a hard working person. A person in peace with her life. Until tonight that is..”

It was usual for Le Chiffre to let his men handle the torture situations - unless it was someone special, like for instance, that red head lady R. What wasn’t usual was the fact that this time he had invited her for dinner, but then again, well, she was special. She was the key to great accomplishments. “Hard work can bring you luck, yes”, Le Chiffre conversed neutrally yet the slight vibration in his voice let Tatjana know that this was going to be more than just a casual conversation. “Do you trust your... say, boss, to work hard enough to find you? Or do you trust that my people won’t work hard enough to cover you, so that you will eventually be found? Since now nothing is certain, and you sort of do have to trust in luck.” Le Chiffre played with the law. He played with the rules, the poker chips, and most of all, he played with people. It was constant for him to find out and learn about different rules so that he could take advantage of them. All people set rules for themselves, and it was mostly that what Le Chiffre was trying to do to Tatjana right now; to figure out her rules and boundaries, beliefs and mindset. Because, when playing a game, you never played the actual game; you played against the people and their minds. “But before that”, Le Chiffre continued before letting Tatjana speak up. “Do dig in. You look too lovely to starve.”

Crossed plans

Closed thread for @royalechiffre

7pm.

Two hours of overtime. Quite normal for a Friday night. Tatjana hummed a tune while packing her stuff up for the weekend. She was tired, but satisfied. Today she was able to get through the new data, collected by a doubleO, about a spectre member that was new on the radar for MI6. Promising data for sure. Something was fishy about this man, even for spectre standarts.

Tatjana had posted the new Infos in the main frame to get overlooked by Q next Monday, eager to see the reaction. This man, drug dealer or pimp, or whatever he was - he had his fingers quite in a lot of businesses - seemed to be worth of doubleO attention.

Well, not her business. She did her work.

Her laptop bag hung at her shoulder as she went out and to her car. The ride was a drag, of course by the day and time, and as she arrived finally her place she was wondering if she should have an calm night at home, or if she should have a drink in the pub nearby her flat.

It was darkish already, as she parked in front of her flat complex and, becoming aware how tired she was, decided to call for food delivery.

x Tatjana’s polite comments didn’t get any verbal replies from Le Chiffre; the man just nodded, and after he had tucked the lady’s chair properly for her, he walked back to his own seat. The scent of fresh food floated in the air - but it wasn’t so strong that it would have covered the smell of fear. He didn’t sit down but opened the wine bottle with a smooth gesture and poured himself a proper amount of nearly transparent liquid in the stylish glass before walking back to Tatjana to do the same for her as well. He could have ordered a waiter to do these jobs for him - but what was the entertainment in that? The captured woman was sitting nicely on her seat whereas the boss of this house could move around as much as he wanted, showing her the superioirity he possessed. Even after pouring his guest the wine, it was still silent in the room. It was a familiar silence to Le Chiffre, though he could feel the anxiousness it may have caused in the woman. It floated in the air, after all. It was served to him. Discreetly he sat down on his seat, moved his eyes from the fish up to Tatjana and nonchalantly yet slightly omniously gazed at her over the table as took his revolver out of his breast pocket, laid it down on the table purposefully for her to see. He then reached forward to take a hold of the salad bowl, starting to fill his plate with the bright mixture. Shrimps, he thought. Shrimps and lemons. “Tell me”, he finally broke the silence. “Do you concider yourself a lucky person?”

Crossed plans

Closed thread for @royalechiffre

7pm.

Two hours of overtime. Quite normal for a Friday night. Tatjana hummed a tune while packing her stuff up for the weekend. She was tired, but satisfied. Today she was able to get through the new data, collected by a doubleO, about a spectre member that was new on the radar for MI6. Promising data for sure. Something was fishy about this man, even for spectre standarts.

Tatjana had posted the new Infos in the main frame to get overlooked by Q next Monday, eager to see the reaction. This man, drug dealer or pimp, or whatever he was - he had his fingers quite in a lot of businesses - seemed to be worth of doubleO attention.

Well, not her business. She did her work.

Her laptop bag hung at her shoulder as she went out and to her car. The ride was a drag, of course by the day and time, and as she arrived finally her place she was wondering if she should have an calm night at home, or if she should have a drink in the pub nearby her flat.

It was darkish already, as she parked in front of her flat complex and, becoming aware how tired she was, decided to call for food delivery.

x When Tatjana eventually appeared in the so-called dining room in her stripy shirt and brisk dress - tights and all -, the host was already sitting at the end of the relatively long mahogany table, waiting for her. The fresh salmon as well as some side dishes had been served just a minute ago; the fish was still spreading warmth, and some fresh drops of water danced here and there on the salads. The wine waited unopened in the middle of it all. Le Chiffre stood up from his seat and walked from the other side of the table straight towards Tatjana. In his full black suit he moved graciously and with elegance, and his face carried a slight smile that would have made his appearance look rather polite only if there hadn’t been a clear alterior motive glinting in this gentleman’s eye. “Please, take a seat”, he said as pulled a chair from the end of the table for the lady. At this point Luca had already left the scene, leaving the two of them alone in the room. Though he would be waiting right behind the closed door, but his presence was hard to detect without that information. It was silent, and the softly burning candle flames swayed carefully on the chandelier and on the table, lighting the nightly moment.

Crossed plans

Closed thread for @royalechiffre

7pm.

Two hours of overtime. Quite normal for a Friday night. Tatjana hummed a tune while packing her stuff up for the weekend. She was tired, but satisfied. Today she was able to get through the new data, collected by a doubleO, about a spectre member that was new on the radar for MI6. Promising data for sure. Something was fishy about this man, even for spectre standarts.

Tatjana had posted the new Infos in the main frame to get overlooked by Q next Monday, eager to see the reaction. This man, drug dealer or pimp, or whatever he was - he had his fingers quite in a lot of businesses - seemed to be worth of doubleO attention.

Well, not her business. She did her work.

Her laptop bag hung at her shoulder as she went out and to her car. The ride was a drag, of course by the day and time, and as she arrived finally her place she was wondering if she should have an calm night at home, or if she should have a drink in the pub nearby her flat.

It was darkish already, as she parked in front of her flat complex and, becoming aware how tired she was, decided to call for food delivery.

x It was already past midnight, but Le Chiffre wasn’t obeying the unspoken social rules about the clock and how one was supposed to act at certain times - so it was an opportune time for dinner. His personal chef had a whole menu to offer but he didn’t bother to do any specific orders; he trusted in the man - to an extent, of course - and gave him free hands to do anything his soul ever wanted to do at 1 o’clock in the morning. He didn’t really care since one single dinner was definitely not the main concern of his. Le Chiffre was used to being under pressure, had it something to do with high stakes on gambling games or literally having a gun pointed at his brain - still, like everyone else, he preferred not to overuse his body’s cortisol. As he sat in front of his mahogany work desk upstairs in his office, eventually the effects of the stress hormone faded away, and even though he had learned not to care about the physical responses healthy human bodies produced, he was pleased to realise he could think more clearly now. Though he stayed as expressionless as before - it was his inner world, there was no need to open that door to anyone else. In silence he went through some papers as thought about Tatjana Evans, the information she had deleted and the opportunities that were still alive. Also... R. ...R? He blinked and his world got enligthened as if the almighty God himself had decided to cast his blinding grace on him - and suddenly he felt spitefully amused because him of all the people in this house did not deserve it. But then again, one didn’t get what they deserved: they got what they took, and he had taken Tatjana Evans. He listened to his impulse to go tell the chef to set the table for two as well as make one of his men to leave downstairs to inform Luca about this. The latter man would escort the lady upstairs into the large, elegant living room they would be using as a dining room. Was it a risk? Absolutely. Was it worth it? In a sense, yes, and besides, what could one woman do against ten armed men in this building that laid in the middle of nowhere? Ten against one was something Le Chiffre dared to believe in, no matter how sceptic he could be.

#Le Chiffre #muse #my edit #no reposting

[ my edit. no reposting ♡ ]

Crossed plans

Closed thread for @royalechiffre

7pm.

Two hours of overtime. Quite normal for a Friday night. Tatjana hummed a tune while packing her stuff up for the weekend. She was tired, but satisfied. Today she was able to get through the new data, collected by a doubleO, about a spectre member that was new on the radar for MI6. Promising data for sure. Something was fishy about this man, even for spectre standarts.

Tatjana had posted the new Infos in the main frame to get overlooked by Q next Monday, eager to see the reaction. This man, drug dealer or pimp, or whatever he was - he had his fingers quite in a lot of businesses - seemed to be worth of doubleO attention.

Well, not her business. She did her work.

Her laptop bag hung at her shoulder as she went out and to her car. The ride was a drag, of course by the day and time, and as she arrived finally her place she was wondering if she should have an calm night at home, or if she should have a drink in the pub nearby her flat.

It was darkish already, as she parked in front of her flat complex and, becoming aware how tired she was, decided to call for food delivery.

x The playful tone of his voice had lifted the corners of his lips up to a slight smile of the same shade, though it was just like a painting: visible, colorful too, yet lifeless, empty. Like a pretty piece of decoration without emotional value. Le Chiffre let the artificial expression hang on his face as he listened to Tatjana’s explanations, followed her doings right next to her. It was not relief that conquered his insides when the data was officially erased - it was too strong of a word for that. Too easy, too powerful. Too good - and you should never trust in anything that was too good. “For now”, he ended up pronouncing a vague answer to her question about his state of satisfaction, letting her possible silent follow-up questions hang in the air without further elaboration. The shallow smile he had been keeping up for a while began slowly dropping as the woman decided to speak out her basic needs. Though, it wasn’t a literal drop: Le Chiffre just let his facial muscles relax, and how surreal it might have seemed, it still looked like his expression hadn’t changed at all. “Dear”, he sneered faintly, “acting nicely in the future, too, might be worthwhile and eventually beneficial, taking in notice you happened to end up in a bathroom.” Sarcasm shined through his words, and even if he was fully aware of the fact that at this point his cryptic threats weren’t necessary - later they could become even useless if he kept bombing her with them - he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t feel a single drop of pity towards her, and certainly not any obligations of taking care of her - and didn’t feel any need to hide that. What he needed now was to leave, blow the clouds out of his head and reorganise his strategies now that he finally couldn’t hear the invisible bomb ticking anymore. “You’re such a bright girl”, he still remarked. “You’ll figure out the rest.” As he instructed his subordinates in their first language, he glanced at each of the men quickly yet intensely out of a natural habit. According to his words, the computer was to be taken away as they left - but Luca wouldn’t leave. He would stay to take care of the damsel’s urgent needs while other things were being prepared. What the other things were, stayed for now as a mystery, since the main man left the scene without further explanations.

#Le Chiffre #muse #my edit #no reposting #i had too much free time the other day #i made tons of these

Scent of money? [ my edit. no reposting ♡ ]

Crossed plans

Closed thread for @royalechiffre

7pm.

Two hours of overtime. Quite normal for a Friday night. Tatjana hummed a tune while packing her stuff up for the weekend. She was tired, but satisfied. Today she was able to get through the new data, collected by a doubleO, about a spectre member that was new on the radar for MI6. Promising data for sure. Something was fishy about this man, even for spectre standarts.

Tatjana had posted the new Infos in the main frame to get overlooked by Q next Monday, eager to see the reaction. This man, drug dealer or pimp, or whatever he was - he had his fingers quite in a lot of businesses - seemed to be worth of doubleO attention.

Well, not her business. She did her work.

Her laptop bag hung at her shoulder as she went out and to her car. The ride was a drag, of course by the day and time, and as she arrived finally her place she was wondering if she should have an calm night at home, or if she should have a drink in the pub nearby her flat.

It was darkish already, as she parked in front of her flat complex and, becoming aware how tired she was, decided to call for food delivery.

x Working for SPECTRE included handling large amounts of files for several different purposes, and even though Le Chiffre stared at the numbers and mostly kept the business going on on the field, he wasn’t too unfamiliar with the technology side. Though in this case he lacked some specific skills and, most importantly, passwords, which was why Tatjana had come in the picture. Suddenly there was a chance to bluff. ...Should he bluff? In just a blink of an eye his mind went through different options, calculating and then guessing the future events, five steps further. If he played stupid, she might start simmering some brave ideas and actually believe she could get away with them. He didn’t need any more trouble, so that was an instant no, but then again it could be an opportunity to learn. So far she had been obedient and efficient - would it last longer? Was it worth the risk? Every second longer on that computer was a risk in itself. And, every second he could feel the lead-like weight of the world melted and forged around his chest, the invisible pressure not a single soul was able to see and yet he was aware of it one hundred percent. Two hundred percent. His mind was becoming in an irritating way more cloudy because of that, and he knew he was getting impulsive - which wasn’t a danger only to the others but to him himself as well. ...so was it really an actual rational option in this situation, or just an irrelevant impulse he felt tempted to act on? There was so much at stake, he couldn’t afford any mistakes. Was he exaggerating this? Can you exaggerate anything when it’s the matter of your life and your death? All that stir in his head happened in just a few seconds, after which he decided not to give her chances to play hero. “You’re the lecturer-type?” he asked, and for the first time there was some life in his voice. A tease. He wasn’t serious, more like he was giving her the permission to explain her doings if that was something she ‘liked’ doing. “One should always express themselves. It would be a shame to not let you use your voice while you still have it.”

Crossed plans

Closed thread for @royalechiffre

7pm.

Two hours of overtime. Quite normal for a Friday night. Tatjana hummed a tune while packing her stuff up for the weekend. She was tired, but satisfied. Today she was able to get through the new data, collected by a doubleO, about a spectre member that was new on the radar for MI6. Promising data for sure. Something was fishy about this man, even for spectre standarts.

Tatjana had posted the new Infos in the main frame to get overlooked by Q next Monday, eager to see the reaction. This man, drug dealer or pimp, or whatever he was - he had his fingers quite in a lot of businesses - seemed to be worth of doubleO attention.

Well, not her business. She did her work.

Her laptop bag hung at her shoulder as she went out and to her car. The ride was a drag, of course by the day and time, and as she arrived finally her place she was wondering if she should have an calm night at home, or if she should have a drink in the pub nearby her flat.

It was darkish already, as she parked in front of her flat complex and, becoming aware how tired she was, decided to call for food delivery.

x Even though keeping that kind of information in his actual physical possession instead of just memorizing it was highly risky, it would be just one more thing added to the row of others of the same kind. It was always the best to know the enemy’s exact cards - they might have lost them, yes, but there still was a chance they remembered what they had had, which gave a lot of worth to the risk in this matter. Le Chiffre let his gaze travel from the computer screen up to Tatjana’s proud face, then further to meet Luca’s gaze. He told the man to go fetch a memory stick - he knew where - and return as quickly as possible. A short, assertive ‘jawohl’ and he was gone. Luca was the youngest and, not literally but if you looked at the big picture, the newest member Le Chiffre had recruited - and it unquestionably seemed like he, in an interesting way, liked being ordered around by his superior. Of course Le Chiffre had noticed that from the very beginning and took every chance he got to delegate something to him, even the smallest things somebody else could have carried out just as fine. It was entertaining to see him jump around and the best thing was that he didn’t even complain. None of Le Chiffre’s amusing thoughts got expressed on his face as he waited for his errand boy to return. It was nearly dead silent in the luxurious bathroom for the twenty-five seconds it took for the young man to get back. “One single copy, and then wipe it out. Permanently”, were the simple commands spoken out loud, directed at who else than Tatjana. ...R?

Crossed plans

Closed thread for @royalechiffre

7pm.

Two hours of overtime. Quite normal for a Friday night. Tatjana hummed a tune while packing her stuff up for the weekend. She was tired, but satisfied. Today she was able to get through the new data, collected by a doubleO, about a spectre member that was new on the radar for MI6. Promising data for sure. Something was fishy about this man, even for spectre standarts.

Tatjana had posted the new Infos in the main frame to get overlooked by Q next Monday, eager to see the reaction. This man, drug dealer or pimp, or whatever he was - he had his fingers quite in a lot of businesses - seemed to be worth of doubleO attention.

Well, not her business. She did her work.

Her laptop bag hung at her shoulder as she went out and to her car. The ride was a drag, of course by the day and time, and as she arrived finally her place she was wondering if she should have an calm night at home, or if she should have a drink in the pub nearby her flat.

It was darkish already, as she parked in front of her flat complex and, becoming aware how tired she was, decided to call for food delivery.

x Something very casual, a bit too long if you asked for Le Chiffre’s opinion, but he let it pass. Luca sent the message with his superior’s permission after which he took his previous position. “You’re such a good girl”, Le Chiffre flashed her a hollow smile as complimented her with an empty voice. The hand that had been resting on Tatjana’s neck trailed on her shoulder, on which he gave a few pats just as a vain gesture to support his words. “Now, finish your job.” He didn’t quite have any other choices than instruct her and trust on her instict to survive, which would motivate her to obey under three different guns. And if she for some reason didn’t... Well, creativity never had borders.

#Le Chiffre #muse #my edit #no reposting

Some vibes. [ my edit. no reposting ♡ ]

Crossed plans

Closed thread for @royalechiffre

7pm.

Two hours of overtime. Quite normal for a Friday night. Tatjana hummed a tune while packing her stuff up for the weekend. She was tired, but satisfied. Today she was able to get through the new data, collected by a doubleO, about a spectre member that was new on the radar for MI6. Promising data for sure. Something was fishy about this man, even for spectre standarts.

Tatjana had posted the new Infos in the main frame to get overlooked by Q next Monday, eager to see the reaction. This man, drug dealer or pimp, or whatever he was - he had his fingers quite in a lot of businesses - seemed to be worth of doubleO attention.

Well, not her business. She did her work.

Her laptop bag hung at her shoulder as she went out and to her car. The ride was a drag, of course by the day and time, and as she arrived finally her place she was wondering if she should have an calm night at home, or if she should have a drink in the pub nearby her flat.

It was darkish already, as she parked in front of her flat complex and, becoming aware how tired she was, decided to call for food delivery.

x ‘There’s no need to threaten me more’. Momentarily Le Chiffre directed a specific smirk at Kratt, purely just because he found the lady’s words amusing. The man chose not to answer in any way, though his eyes revealed it was clear he was on the same wavelength with his superior. Le Chiffre closely followed Tatjana’s doings, taking notes of the way she typed and held herself together under pressure, and how the timer started to tick. Then out of the blue a chat box popped open. “Naturally”, Le Chiffre answered her after reading the message. The risks of blowing this thing up by letting the woman send a message were enormous, but as everything, he decided to try turn this in his favor. They didn’t want anyone from the MI6 to suspect she was gone - not yet, when it was still preventable. “Choose your words carefully”, Le Chiffre instructed and looked up to the man who had tied her on the chair, telling him to get closer. The man put down his gun as stepped to the other side of Tatjana. “You may write the reply - but don’t even think about sending it. Our Luca here will kindly do it for you.”

Crossed plans

Closed thread for @royalechiffre

7pm.

Two hours of overtime. Quite normal for a Friday night. Tatjana hummed a tune while packing her stuff up for the weekend. She was tired, but satisfied. Today she was able to get through the new data, collected by a doubleO, about a spectre member that was new on the radar for MI6. Promising data for sure. Something was fishy about this man, even for spectre standarts.

Tatjana had posted the new Infos in the main frame to get overlooked by Q next Monday, eager to see the reaction. This man, drug dealer or pimp, or whatever he was - he had his fingers quite in a lot of businesses - seemed to be worth of doubleO attention.

Well, not her business. She did her work.

Her laptop bag hung at her shoulder as she went out and to her car. The ride was a drag, of course by the day and time, and as she arrived finally her place she was wondering if she should have an calm night at home, or if she should have a drink in the pub nearby her flat.

It was darkish already, as she parked in front of her flat complex and, becoming aware how tired she was, decided to call for food delivery.

x “The complexity of getting it permanently deleted has no meaning to me”, Le Chiffre stated, still keeping his hand on her throat without intentions to move it away any time soon. He glanced up to Kratt, who carried out his simple job by just standing next to his superior, and gave him an allusive nod. After a second, a third gun was pointing at Tatjana. Le Chiffre shifted to properly look at the woman, eyeing her side profile that radiated fresh fear. He decided to feed it a little more. “Do what you must”, he began, “because these guns pointing at you aren’t meant to kill you. At first, they will shoot your ankles, then your petite little hands... Through your cheeks... Everywhere that you will survive of - but you wish you wouldn’t.” He held a rhetorical pause. “And, finally, when you’ve suffered so much pain that you wonder how you are still alive, I, personally, will shoot your heart last.”

Crossed plans

Closed thread for @royalechiffre

7pm.

Two hours of overtime. Quite normal for a Friday night. Tatjana hummed a tune while packing her stuff up for the weekend. She was tired, but satisfied. Today she was able to get through the new data, collected by a doubleO, about a spectre member that was new on the radar for MI6. Promising data for sure. Something was fishy about this man, even for spectre standarts.

Tatjana had posted the new Infos in the main frame to get overlooked by Q next Monday, eager to see the reaction. This man, drug dealer or pimp, or whatever he was - he had his fingers quite in a lot of businesses - seemed to be worth of doubleO attention.

Well, not her business. She did her work.

Her laptop bag hung at her shoulder as she went out and to her car. The ride was a drag, of course by the day and time, and as she arrived finally her place she was wondering if she should have an calm night at home, or if she should have a drink in the pub nearby her flat.

It was darkish already, as she parked in front of her flat complex and, becoming aware how tired she was, decided to call for food delivery.

x Tatjana entered the password so quickly that Le Chiffre couldn’t catch the exact combination of letters and numbers, but then again, even though trying to remember at least a part of the combination was worth a try, it was unrealistic to ever get access to the files. 52 letters, capitals included, and 10 numbers - in total 62 different characters. A password of twelve components that were in no way dependant on others and could appear more than just once - that would be 62 to the power of 12 different options. And even if he did remember that the password started with 27B00, that would still leave 62 to the power of 8 options for the rest of the keyword. And those were only without other possible marks. In other words, he gave up on the idea quickly because it was simply illogical. He listened as Tatjana told him everything he knew about already, purposefully shifting his gaze from the computer screen to her face to catch her reaction when she would finally realise who was accompanying her at the very moment. Only one simple click was needed - and her world was suddenly so much brighter. A viperish yet satisfied grin got painted on Le Chiffre’s lips as he gazed at Tatjana’s wide open eyes, full of pure fright. Surprise. “You have been so very lovely and helpful, my dear Tatjana”, he sweet-talked without a single drop of meaning in his words. He could feel the change in the atmosphere, a twisted triumph, which was why he didn’t erase the malicious expression off his face. He took a firm step closer to Tatjana so that he ended up right behind her, letting his allusive hand trail along her shoulders, gently moving her soft hair away from her neck with his fingertips that had held a gun just minutes ago. When her bare neck got exposed, he leaned closer and slipped his hand around her neck - tenderly, but definitely ready to use some force to strangle her any time he wanted. “There’s still some things you need to do, though...” he spoke calmly next to her ear, looking at the bright computer screen past her ginger hair. “Delete it.”