#clementine roscoe

[joaquinwhorres]

The Corpsemen's Shitty Horoscopes

The Corpse Corporals' Shitty Horoscopes ft. @decennia / @dinawrites 's OCs

Clementine Roscoe

George Cassidy

Sebastian Devereaux

Maureen Wallace (mine)

Enzo Dizon

Ana Loan

Malcom Drake

Hector Reeves

[finnoky]

[Happy Valentine’s Day!]

This is a commission for @eugenes-shmeat, of Lance and their adorable OC Clementine! Please do not use / repost

Drawing in the TTS style is always a fun challenge! Especially getting to adapt a whole character to it — I’m proud of how this turned out and am 100% in love with Clem’s design (YOU MADE HER SO CUTE I CAN’T ToT]

Commissions are currently: OPEN

Click the links below for more info!

Ko-Fi | Commission sheet

[dinawrites]

P R E L U D E

Synopsis: Set before the events of The Tourists, Saloni Sunder confronts Malcolm with her concerns about the executions of her fellow Corpsemen.

Word Count: 785

Warnings: mentions of violence & murder. guns.

Author's Note: A little taste of what is to come with The Corpsemen spin-off, and the threats with which they may be faced.

Saloni shuddered with the pure revolt of her fury, a fury that only came from the scared. “People are dying, Malcolm! We are dying!”

Malcolm was not a man accustomed to being yelled at, and to his credit, he maintained his composure. This only enraged Saloni more.

“People have died since the dawn of man, and many more will have died in the dusk. We are no different.”

“I won’t die for you,” she spat.

“And what of all the people who have died for you?” He snapped, his indifference giving away to the tempest of his annoyance. She’d provoked him, and the Captain was unforgiving in his anger. “All so you could have a better life. People are dying, you say, but what about all those who have died by your hand? Hm, Pallas? Where was this passion then?! WHERE WAS YOUR FUCKING CONVICTION?!”

Malcolm had risen from the crate on which he’d perched, and began his slow advance. Saloni had attempted to stand her ground, but when the Captain had towered above her in all his bitter menace, she’d shrunk back and retreated. He had her crowded against the wall now, and the thunderous boom of his voice reverberated through her.

It was Saloni Sunder’s fighting instinct that was her undoing. Before the knife was even fully unsheathed from her hip, Junior had his gun at her temple. Because yes, it was very much Junior and not Enzo who had reacted.

His voice was void, his pupils blown, and his breath came in slow, controlled bursts. “Stand down, Pallas.”

The room immediately fell into silence, tension crackling in the air at the introduction of a gun in what had begun as nothing more than a disagreement.

“You won’t shoot.” Saloni knew the crack of her voice betrayed her doubt. To say Enzo Dizon was a man who would draw the line at just a spent bullet was to say a ravenous dog would draw the line at a nibble. Especially when the safety of Malcolm Drake was called into question.

“What he won’t do is ask twice,” Hector said softly, hands outreached in placation. “Pallas–”

“We’re not codenames!” She hissed, cutting him off.

In one fluid movement, the safety was flicked off of Junior’s gun and the cold barrel found her skin. Her reaction was a whimper, and she loathed her body’s betrayal.

Malcolm pulled away from her in that moment, and George found himself wondering if it was because he didn’t want to clean brain matter from his shoes. They were nice shoes.

When Saloni spoke again, it was hushed, like someone attempting to calm a vicious beast. “We’re people.”

“You’re soldiers!” Malcolm roared. “This is what soldiers do! They die!”

Clementine was making her slow approach to Enzo. Her hand found stiff shoulder as she silently urged him to lower his gun.

“You knew what you were getting into when you joined the Corpsemen. For fuck’s sake, it’s in the fucking name! You always knew. Montserrat, when the bullets were raining down, but not on you.”

She winced at the mention of Bosnia, a memory she had hoped to leave discarded at the bottom of empty whiskey bottles. He was right. She had almost enjoyed it, and that’s what reviled her the most. The rain of bullets, the thunderous gunshots, and she, the storm. Even George Cassidy had shrunk back from her in stunned silence when all that was left was ringing and red. She’d been trying to drown that side of her ever since, but Pallas was more a part of her than Saloni ever was. And the Captain knew that, too. He continued her condemnation.

“The executions in Mozambique. Bosnia. Belarus. The fucking Claymore Job. You’ve always known that there would be a price to pay, and your convictions only come now that someone is demanding it be paid. That’s the job. Murder is business. You don’t get to decide when to wash your hands of this. Welcome to the real world, Sunder.”

His mocking addition of her surname had her seething, but she bit her tongue. Junior had lowered the gun at Clementine’s intervention, but she’d seen for herself that the gun was the least dangerous thing about Enzo Dizon.

“Stand down, Junior,” Malcolm called out to him. The tension in the room shattered as immediately, all hostility vanished from Enzo. He practically fell against Clementine in relief. “And Sable?”

George’s stomach flipped, but not in the same morbid anticipation he usually felt when the Captain called for him. It was a damn shame. Saloni Sunder had been such a beautiful woman.

“Escort Miss Sunder out. Make sure she understands that she is no longer welcome among the Corpsemen.”

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TAG LIST: @hughstheforcelou @lost-in-the-shelves @akabluekat @lokitrasho @anna-phora @honeyandsunflowers @perfectlystiles @villanele @foxesandmagic @lord-savior-dean-winchester @stanshollaand @richitozier @hiddenqveendom @harleyquinnzelz @lizziesxltzmxn

[finnoky]

COMMISSION PIECES [DO NOT REPOST]

I once again had the delight of drawing @eugenes-shmeat ‘s OC Clementine and it was so much fun! (If a little heartbreaking please give her a hug oml) — I am still 100% in love with Clem and am so happy with how these turned out!

Commissions are currently : CLOSED

[dinawrites]

clementine roscoe?

Clementine Roscoe was born to Swedish-born Klara Larsen and Montenegrin-American Stefan Delić. She grew up between all three countries, and, given her access to multiple different countries and flawless test scores, was the perfect candidate to be recruited into INTERPOL.

Only a few years into her career, she was given the opportunity not often afforded to agents of her age – an opportunity for promotion. All she needed to do was find and detain notorious arms dealer, smuggler, and treasonous murderer George Cassidy. 

The case file had been worked by two agents prior to her, exchanging their hands after months of failure and false sightings. The case was awarded to her after a gleaming recommendation from her superiors following an arrest she’d made, and she was in a position to better her standing.

She accepted the case, and immersed herself in every aspect and detail of Cassidy’s life; from a string of petty crimes in his youth detailed in his expunged record that she’d fought tooth and nail to get her hands on, to the assault that he was never tried for, to his acts of treason against Queen and Country, and to his more recent exploits in Africa, where he still eluded capture. She pored over every psych evaluation, interview, mention, until she didn’t know where she began and George Cassidy ended. She was more accustomed to seeing his face than she was her own.

All of this culminated in Belarus, where she was following the breadcrumb trail of a possible arms deal he was personally seeing to. In an act of taunting, George Cassidy agreed to meet with Clementine Roscoe, before once again vanishing without a trace; leaving it cold after two more months without a peep nor even a sighting of Cassidy.

Admitting defeat, Clementine was assigned a new case, one in her father’s home country of Montenegro, where her parents had decided to settle down following the death of her paternal grandparents who had owned a sprawling Montenegrin estate that now lay vacant. 

The case led her down a dangerous path into the criminal underbelly of Eastern Europe. As a deterrent for INTERPOL’s investigation, the leader of the crime syndicate ordered the killing of Roscoe’s parents.

Removed from the case due to her notions of vengeance, Roscoe resigned after being denied the opportunity to hold those responsible accountable for their actions.

Rogue, she declared the archaic Montenegrin practice of “krvna osveta” – a blood feud law of vendetta – against the executioners. Over the next three years, Clementine Roscoe methodically hunted down and enacted her vengeance on everyone but the person who ordered the death.

Her drive, determination, and skill was enough to impress Malcolm Drake, who recruited her into the Corpse Corporals in the wake of his biggest job yet.

But blood still needed to be paid in blood. And Clementine Roscoe has one bullet still unspent.