#edith explains

[admdmrtn]

favorite memory of u and rebecca <3

“Hm, genuinely?” Edith asks.

Nate watches her expectantly, thinking he assumes correct that she and Rebecca have a good relationship. Felix, on the other hand, has sprinkles of empathy in his eyes. Being more perceptive meant he’s able to see through her practiced facade - that she in fact is not close to her mother despite their civil attitudes towards one another.

“When I got an email from her saying she’ll pay for my apartment reno.”

A loud snort comes from Edith’s left, and she’s surprised to see that her response has gotten the usually surly Mason to break character. His shoulders shake in silent laughter before he chortles, addressing her in equal parts amusement and disbelief. “Woman.”

“I wasn’t about to turn down an offer to sponsor my thousands over bill. The place was already maxing out my budget,” she defends.

“What I wanna know is why you chose a home by the cemetery in the first place,” Felix chimes in, “not afraid the ghouls might get to you, Detective?”

Edith rolls her eyes, “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“Not ghosts— ghouls. And you might want to.”

Felix barks a loud laughter when he sees her smile drop. “Though I guess it’s not too bad since you have someone watching over you, eh?” His eyes gleam momentarily over to Nate whose shoulder he then looks past in order to glance at Adam and continues, “or could there be more than one guardian angel?”

Edith catches in time to see him pursing his lips as he stands by the door, an internal battle in his expression evident as if to decide whether a retort to Felix’s comment is necessary. Her gaze locks with his for a split second, and Edith sees a flash of great guilt in his green irises but it disappears before her mind registers it. What is he guilty of?

“So,” Nate prompts, without knowing that he’s broken her train of thoughts, “no childhood memory?” He sounds a little shocked, which is no surprise to Edith considering the fact he had been openly hopeful for a charming answer.

She shakes her head slowly. “Rebe— Mum was barely around. I’ve more favourable memories with Mrs. Lewis, my nanny. I owe it to her for always reminding me to be more understanding of Mum’s situation actually.”

“But you both seem so close,” the former trails off.

“I’ve nothing against her, I mean—” Edith has to pause and take a few shaky breaths before speaking again. “I do get why she had to be away a lot, even more now that she’s told me her actual job.”

“But?” Felix asks.

“But since finding out about Dad—um, Rook, and how she handled his death,” she shrugs in attempt to brush off whatever it is she’s feeling, “it’s just been a little weird between us.”

If wishes came true, she’d wish one now for Nate to not look at her with those worried, almost disapproving brown eyes ... much less for him to say what he said next.

“She loves you.”

“I don’t doubt her love,” Edith replies hastily, jaws slightly tense. “Just the things that she says—” she swallows, “—the things that she also calls the truth.”

The silence in her office settles heavily around everyone present. From each vampire, Edith perceives a different set of emotions, but she’s far too overwhelmed with her own to digest comprehensively what her teammates are trying to convey to her.

Luckily, Felix decides to lighten the mood - as he always does. “So what did she say when you told her that your deco choice was to manifest your inner vampire?”

“Felix,” Nate sighs.

“What?” The younger man laughs. “You’ve seen her apartment, Natey!”

[admdmrtn]

Miss Edith, what are your thoughts about becoming a vampire? Would you do it? Are you afraid of the transformation?

(Also hi and bye! ✨)

MEG MEG MEG MEG MEG IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG AAHHHH thanks for sending an ask you queen!!!! ILY!! also sorry this is a lil longer than expected aaah! also i decided to combine a few other asks since they’re really the same thing KJHFKJDFHDSF thank you to the anons who sent these!!

“Ooh,” Felix winks, leaning forward from where he is sitting. “This, I gotta hear.”

Edith shifts, tucking one leg under the other as she thinks of an appropriate way to respond. Slowly, she wonders out loud, “I’m not sure which I fear more — death, or immortality.”

The young vampire beside her groans in disappointment, plopping back dramatically. “Way to make it all deep and wise, E.D.”

Nate pats his shoulder as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “And yet,” he begins while offering Edith a kind smile, “a question that remains unanswered regardless.”

Silence settles between them, each left to their own thoughts momentarily. That is, until a deep voice speaks from behind them, a sigh hidden beyond its stubborn front.

“Immortality.”

The three of them look up, only to see Adam standing by the door. His face unreadable save for the slightest hint of forlorn regret.

Despite the tension, Felix snickers. “Speaking from experience, eh?” He quips, earning himself a disapproving glare from Nate who shakes his head in warning. Adam simply looks away, moving to the window instead of joining them by the fireplace. 

Edith purses her lips, not quite convinced due to the absence of reason behind Adam’s answer. “You only say that because you haven’t experienced death.”

Felix shoots her an amused look. “To be fair, no one ever comes out of death alive—”

“—I say that because I’ve experienced immortality.” Adam cuts Felix off, his own focus entirely on Edith.

She watches him, trying to decipher what he had meant, only to be returned with a guarded stare, and with it, more uncertainty.

In the short moments of observing him, Edith can’t help but let her mind wander back to the question at hand; on whether she’d ever choose to turn. Deep down, she knows that given an emergency scenario — one where her turning into a vampire may help in flipping the tides to their favour — she would agree to it. But if it’s a proposition of her own free will, the answer, as Nate says, is still nowhere near determined.

She decides that it’s not so much the transformation that she’s concerned about, but rather the weight of giving up humanly matters for ... for what? For more time? For life? Simply to not ever die? It daunts her to think what she’ll have to let go in order to achieve that, particularly the idea of growing old with her friends and family, perhaps even a partner.

Edith’s attention snaps back into focus, immediately finding Adam’s eyes still on her, waiting.

Her partner.

“Ooookay,” Felix prompts, “but back to the question though!” He moves forward again, blocking Adam in the process, flashing a wide grin at Edith in hopes for an affirmative answer. She smiles back at him. 

Maybe she might.

Maybe if a certain someone is willing, the notion of eternity may not seem as scary, as lonely.

Maybe if he’s accepting, escaping death may just be worth it.

She glances over at Adam again, expecting to see him opposed to the idea. But instead, she sees for the first time hope in his expression, his eyes asking her a question he seems to refuse to hold back.

Would you really?

[admdmrtn]

fuck, marry, kill - falk, elidor, bobby

“Kill Bobby,” she answers immediately, to which Aimee hollers in agreement while clapping loudly from across the office.

“Atta girl, Deedee, kill him!” Aimee yells. “And don’t miss!”

Edith rolls her eyes but chuckles anyway. She turns to face her best friend, quirking an eyebrow as she counters. “I never miss.”

“Sure,” Aimee taunts, dragging the word out as she leans back in her chair before reaching a hand into one of her drawers to assumably grab a snack. “Tuesday on the fourth week in the Academy says otherwise.” The sing-song in her voice drips with mockery, but Edith pays it no mind. 

“We don’t talk about the Tuesday on the fourth week in the Academy,” she pipes back, “you pinky promised.”

Aimee snorts as she pops a whole jaffa cake into her mouth. When Edith stares her down, though only half-jokingly, she mimes zipping her lips, before pretending to lock it and throwing away the invisible key behind her. “Haffy naw?” She manages, mouth full with her favourite snack.

Edith nods. She then swivels in her chair, taking a minute to think about her two other options. To fuck or marry, with Falk or Elidor?

The office stilled into its regular quiet, aside from Aimee’s careless munching, and the sporadic soundtrack from Douglas’ phone that informs everyone he’s died in the game - again.

Eventually, Edith asks, “you can marry someone without ever sleeping with them, yeah?”

“Say fuck and go, Edith,” Aimee snickers, mid-chew. Swallowing, she adds, “but yeah, I guess. I mean, if you wanna be boring.”

“I’m just weighing out my choices,” Edith shrugs in reply.

“It’s fuck, marry, kill,” the other detective deadpans.

Edith scratches her chin absentmindedly. “True, but— okay, fine, yes,” she raises her hands in surrender when Aimee groans, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. “I’ll marry Falk, probably ... but I won’t bed him.”

“Bed, wha— first of all, yuck,” Aimee pretends to gag, making Edith laugh.

The latter grabs a stress ball from her desk and chucks it over to her friend. “Don’t be mean! He’s not that bad.”

Aimee catches it with ease despite in the midst of shoving her nth cake into her mouth. Truly, her motor skills remain unmatched, but Edith isn’t about to admit that out loud; it might make her friend’s head bigger than it already is.

“And secondly,” she puts out two fingers as if to emphasise her point, “you might as well say make love at this point if you’re so against saying the word fuck. I mean, who’s going to stop you anyway?” She gestures to around the station, apparently not realising the irony in her question.

Edith shakes her head in amusement. “Alright,” she gives in, “I’ll make love to Elidor.” She stresses on the phrase, making sure to say it loud and clear for Aimee.

“Fuck yea—”

Before Aimee can even finish however, a ringing clang echoes from the front of the office, abruptly interrupting her. The two detectives peer over and manage to see Adam holding onto a detached door — entirely out of its frame — from where he’d just walked in. He catches Edith’s stare for a split second, the frown between his brows enough to tell her he’d heard her confession.

Aimee turns to look at Edith. “Your man did that,” she states incredulously.

“Not my man.”

“Not yet, he’s not.”

[admdmrtn]

if you weren’t a detective what would you be doing? 🧚🏼‍♀️✨❤️

Edith flips through the file, checking the papers in it and making sure everything is in order before slotting it into her shoulder bag; she’s too far in a hurry to dive into this question at the moment. But perhaps, she could make use of the four men in the room to spice things up a bit.

A thought ran across her mind.

“The correct guess gets the AUX chord,” she announces.

Felix claps once before rubbing his palms together, though before he can speak, Mason cuts in first. “For the love of whoever is worshipped these days, lie if Felix gets it right,” he grumbles, smoke lingering over his vision as he sneers at the younger vampire.

“You wound me, M!” Felix grins mischievously. “We all know I’ve got the best music taste here - and yes, I do mean all of us.”

He glances at Edith and despite his supposed apology that comes after, there’s absolutely no remorse in either his tone or expression. “I’d say no offence, E.D...”

“A little taken, thanks,” she replies, chuckling but still not looking up from packing her things. They were all due to head into the big city later that afternoon, but Edith’s meeting with Captain Sung with regards to Douglas’ progress had stretched an hour too long, and now she’s forced to work on overdrive, on an empty stomach no less, so that every one of them can leave promptly.

Bloody hell, how she hates rushing.

“Everyone game?” Felix prompts. “I say a performer - you know, like with that thing she does with the curtains.”

“Aerial silks,” Nate voices.

“Hammock,” Edith corrects, shooting Nate a smile as if to say sorry for the cold, snappy reply. He winks right back. “Though I do want to try the silks soon, eventually.”

“Nah,” Mason says, almost as if he was speaking to himself instead. “Mayor.” His answer was simple, and yet it’s the biggest compliment Edith’s gotten from him.

Felix bounces from one side of the office to another. “Oooh,” he sings in Mason’s, “high praise coming from Mr. Smokealot.”

“Piss off,” the latter warns, earning everyone a loud burst of Felix’s signature bubbly laughter.

Edith decides to keep things moving along; she’s almost finished. “Nate?”

There’s a pause before he speaks, his voice sweet as honey like always when he does. She can hear the smile in his reply, igniting a small spread of warmth that courses through her body.

“An archivist,” he states simply. “Or perhaps, a conservator?”

Edith shrugs, her hands now moving on to clean the mess on her desk and turning her computer off accordingly.

“How about you, all-mighty leader?” She hears Felix asks he makes his way to Adam, who has spent the last five minutes merely observing from just outside the open office door. “What thinks you, hey?”

“Unnecessary,” came the answer, as expected. “Let’s get going.”

“Aw, come on!” Felix protests.

Edith, together with Mason and Nate, trails behind the two as all of them exit the station, heading towards the carpark where her sweet, sorry tin can of a car awaits. Meanwhile, Felix continues to prod an answer out of Adam.

“Just say something,” he suggests. “Close your eyes and say whatever comes to you first.”

Adam turns to look at Edith as she unlocks the driver’s seat. She pauses, indulging him in the stare-down that she’s gotten so used to; she’s no longer scared of the intensity that often comes along with meeting the finely aged green in his eyes. Instead, she’s learned to hold his gaze, which deems particularly useful during times she wants to make a point across. But for now, she simply raises an eyebrow, signalling and telling him that she too is waiting for his participation.

And as all miracles go, he gives in eventually, sighing and shaking his head lightly at the same time as if unable to comprehend the reality of his incapability to say no to Edith. “I’ve seen the way you fight - a professional martial artist would have been an apt career for you.”

Edith snorts, rolling her eyes in amusement. Of course he’d find a way to make things about what would be best for her rather than what would be best in her interest. That’s just Adam for you.

She settles into her car, hearing a brief stammer and possibly a pat on the back before the car gets crammed with four borderline overly-sized vampires. Mason rolls down the window as if it was second nature, puffing smoke out and trying his best to ignore Felix’s tireless excitement.

“Alright, E.D.,” Felix calls out while reaching for his phone in his back pocket, “I’m ready for that AUX.”

“Actually, you’re all wrong,” Edith smiles smugly, her eyes gleaming as she continues, doing her best Felix impression, “hope y’all like murder mysteries!”

“Oh no,” Felix groans before flopping back in his seat between Adam and Mason. “Must we?”

“Rules of the game and all that,” Edith replies, shrugging nonchalantly while she sifts through the podcast library on her phone.

“What was it then?” Adam asks, his eyes already staring at her through the rearview mirror. “The answer.”

She purses her lips, the memory of her childhood ambition not being a particularly great one. “A vet,” she says, “but my application was denied, and for some reason the officials reasoned that it was submitted late even though I’m still pretty sure it wasn’t.”

“I’m sorry to hear,” Nate offers, his hand reaching over and find its place on her knee. Edith glances down to it briefly before staring back onto the road, a small smile tugging on her lips. She puts the car into drive and pulls out of the parking lot, the narrator’s voice the only thing filling in the odd silence, while she lets herself enjoy the warmth that comes from Nate’s comforting touch.

But with her attention focused on driving, Edith fails to see forlorn eyes watching her - watching his friend’s hand on her knee - his own fingers itching, begging, to be the one placed on it instead.

[admdmrtn]

WHATS YOUR FAVOURITE THING ABOUT AIMEE

“Not her hopeless cooking skills,” Edith comments too readily, earning a dirty look thrown her way. “Or her dining etiquette. Or—”

“—choose your next words wisely.”

Edith watches in awe as Aimee takes a huge bite into the burrito she’d prepared a few moments prior.

So used to her best friend’s rambunctious personality, Edith barely questioned it when Aimee stormed into her apartment about half an hour ago – using the spare key that she had specifically said to use for emergencies only – demanding for some food to compensate the loss of her braincells after having had a long and dreadful meeting with Mayor Friedman. She chuckles at the thought; to be fair, anyone who survives the droning of that braggart deserves to be commended and awarded, which, as it happens, is one of Aimee’s own personal motivations after she’d nominated herself to ‘take one for the team’ or so she’d said.

A loud burp comes from her small frame, and Edith can do nothing else but wince. “Well, definitely not the way she lets one loose so carelessly,” she sighs.

“It’s au naturale,” Aimee replies before taking another bite, this time bigger than the previous one.

“I get what you mean, but that’s not exactly how the phrase is used. Close, but no,” Edith points out.

Aimee makes a face, shrugging. “You going to sit there and drag me all day, or will you actually answer the question sometime soon?”

Chuckling, Edith considers what to say. She spares another glance towards her friend, smiling a little bit before speaking. “Where I lack in people skills, Aimee makes up for it.”

She hears a tut from across the kitchen island. “Come on,” Aimee groans. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

“I mean,” Edith continues, “it’s true – she’s got this special kind of charm that’ll change even the most unwavering of minds.”

“Not Adam’s though,” Aimee chimes, her words muffled from having her mouth so full.

“Adam’s got 900 years of suppression, I wouldn’t take it to heart,” Edith remarks without missing a beat.

Guffaws burst from where Aimee’s sat, followed abruptly by coughs when she choked a bit.

“Anyway,” Edith stretches the word out as if to wave away her canny remark. She fails to fight back a smile as she sees Aimee struggle between laughing and coughing lightly. “You good?”

Aimee raises a hand, signalling a go-ahead.

“What was I even saying?” Edith asks herself, trying to find again her train of thoughts. “Right, okay – one time in the Academy,” she starts again, “I made a pretty big mistake.”

“Not big, per se,” she corrects herself. “But a serious one - serious enough that there was talk about kicking me off the program.”

Edith sees Aimee slowing down in her chewing, half-eaten burrito mid-air, her usually sharp stare softening at the memory.

“But our amazing People-person here,” Edith continues, her lips stretching into a smile. “She miraculously convinced the higher-ups otherwise.”

Aimee moves to open her mouth to say something but Edith leans forward to grab a few fries off her plate and shoves it into her friend’s mouth. “I owe my career to her.” She says, grinning innocently as Aimee chews open-mouthed across from her.

“And not only that, she also stuck by me ever since then – though I didn’t have much of a choice really since we were forced to share a dorm.” Edith chuckles as Aimee pokes her tongue out, flipping a bird in jest. The two share a quiet laugh, no doubt thinking back to the crazy shenanigans they’ve experienced together while at the Academy.

When Aimee plops the final piece of the burrito into her mouth, Edith concludes. “Aimee’s my best friend. She accepts me for who I am, and I,” she pauses before breathing out the next words in a gush, “I love her for that.”

“Aw, fuck’s sake, mate,” Aimee says, clutching her heart. “You said you love me- I,” she exaggerates a pout, “I love you too.”

In a blink, Aimee’s out of her seat and rushing over to Edith’s side of the kitchen island, throwing her arms over her friend’s shoulder. “I love you!” She screams quite literally into Edith’s ear before pulling away slightly. “Say it again – say you love me.”

“No.”

“Say it,” Aimee insists.

“No.”

“But I love you.”

“I know—”

“Then say it back!” She pulls out her phone from her back pocket, fiddles with it for a second before shoving it into Edith’s face. “At least say it one more time so I’ve got a verbal reminder. Loud and clear, let’s go.”

Edith looks down and notices the phone already recording their exchange. “This is exactly why I don’t say it.”

[admdmrtn]

HI EDITH, what is your favorite thing about adam?

Just one? Edith thinks.

She ponders over it for a moment, her gaze wandering over to the man in question who is currently throwing blows at the headless wooden dummy - the same one he smashed from many nights ago. Watching him, Edith can’t help but notice the precision in his strikes, the tautness in his form, the security he emits--

But there’s simply something else about him, in a way which reminds her of ... herself. The restrain in his actions, his obligation to duty, all of them being part of who she’s always strive to be. And that said, she sees too how he holds himself back, choosing, no, giving in to the torment of prohibition over the guilt of sweet, sweet freedom.

“Detective?”

She looks up at the call of his voice, her thoughts disappearing to the back of her mind as she meets the gentle green in his gaze for a second before the usual cold takes over, leaving behind only a figment of imagination.

“You’re late.” He turns away from her, busying himself with the bandages he had wrapped around his knuckles, but she could read him just as easy. You had me worried you wouldn’t come.

Edith chuckles softly to herself before making her way over to where he stands. If anything, her favourite thing about him is being able to understand the unspoken language between the two of them. Because truth be told, she’s been speaking it long before they met, wondering if she’ll find someone else with a similar tongue.

[admdmrtn]

how do u feel about falk?

“We’re friendly,” she shrugs.

To her left, Mason snorts from the couch he’s currently sprawled on, both his elbows resting at the top of its cushions, and his lit cigarette resting lazily in between his lips. “Yeah,” he sneers, “friendly enough for a late night bedroom visit, apparently.”

Edith rolls her eyes - she hadn’t thought much about that since it happened, and yet, her mirror remains covered with the blanket she threw it over with. Perhaps there is still some lingering wariness, deeply rooted in her, and apparently more than she’ll admit.

“You shouldn’t have been so careless.”

Adam marches into the room, eyes trained on Edith as he stalks right to where the two unlikely friends are sat by the fireplace. Despite the cold reprimand in his statement, she notices the concern in his gaze as clear as day. I can’t have you hurt.

Shaking her head slightly, she tries to reason. “Well,” she begins, “if you ask me, I think the Maa-alused were trying to do what they thought was best.”

Mason raises an eyebrow, his hand stills right above the flowerpot that he’s been using as a makeshift ash tray. “You’re excusing them of hurting others?” He asks before sparing a glance over to Adam, who has found himself settling into an armchair directly across from where Edith’s nestled in. “My, Detective,” he purred, his voice a perfect honey-blend of sarcasm and praise, “you really are full of surprises.”

She holds up a finger instinctively, narrowing her eyes at Mason. “Not that I’m condoning to violence or anything,” she explains before continuing, “but would you really blame them for thinking that their custom is true and correct?”

Edith shrugs after a beat, as if the lack of answer proves her point. “Way I see it, they’re not at fault.”

“They harmed many,” Adam argues.

With no hesitation whatsoever, she rebuts right back. “And they healed the harmed after the situation was clarified.”

He frowns at Edith, but instead of looking away, she holds his gaze, silently daring him to challenge her. She’s half-expectant for another heated discussion to ensue - like all other times when a touchy topic surfaced - but then he yields, gaze softening ever so slightly as he gives Edith the smallest of nods before shifting his attention to the fireplace.

In actuality, Edith has been thinking back to her conversation with Falk the night he dropped by; that there seems to be an uncanny similarity about the fact both him and his people, and the Agency are simply trying to do what they think is right in their given circumstances. To scrutinise the Maa-alused would imply putting the Agency into question as well, though perhaps that seems to be more a necessary action to take than everyone realises.

But she can’t voice her thoughts out loud - or at least, not yet. And certainly, not while she’s alone in the same room with the two most loyal members of Unit Bravo.