#lancelady

[singlemaltscott]

@lancelady

It’s taken some adjusting: Kingsman. It’s only been a few months but he’s found himself settling in best he can. He’s not used to being around quite so much posh but it’s also something he’s grown accustomed to in England during the time in between his tours. And he’s not new to prejudice. The job is something he’s slid into quite seamlessly, shadowing Merlin, studying and TRAINING by the older man’s side. He always expected to start a new job at some point, once he decided to leave the military, but he’d not put much thought into what that might wind up being before Merlin approached him. It suits him. Tech. Handling agents. Providing support in the field when necessary. It’s a BALANCE between the active duty he’s accustomed to and the kind of work that he enjoys doing. But this, their current assignment, is something foreign. He finds it unsettling.

They’re in the middle of the English countryside at a large estate clearing the massive home in their civvies- well, his civvies, Harry is in appropriate Kingsman attire -and Hamish isn’t accustomed to espionage of THIS kind. He’s accustomed to uniforms, tactical gear, covert operations in the middle of deserts and jungles and the muck and filth they’re thrown into. This is something quite other. This is a family murdered in their own home because of their association with Kingsman and a missing child. Missing until they find her.

It takes quite some time to canvas the entire mansion- because he can’t rightly call the monstrosity a house -Harry taking the upper levels and himself the lower with Merlin in their ears the entire time. He’s almost through with his sweep when he hears something from the back of the room and approaches slowly. “Merlin. Possible CONTACT.” He almost misses the cricket bat with how low it is to the floor, the little girl barely able to swing it out at him and he sidesteps before she’s dropping it and wailing at him with tiny fists. “Och- ey, wee one...” The BARRAGE to his legs is a bit uncomfortable but doesn’t really hurt so he slowly clicks on the safety of his weapon and tucks it into the back of his waistband before crouching down and gently taking her shoulders to hold her away so she doesn’t catch his face. “It’s alright, lass. I’m here te help. I won’ hurt ye. I promise.”

[kingstequila]

1-4 for chara development if ur down <3

character development questions :  hard mode .    ╱    accepting .

ONE .    does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? which one are they closest with?

tequila’s older brother, will, was the closest he’s ever had in familial age group.  he was two years older, and tequila spent the better part of his early childhood following him around and trying to be just like him, and he was definitely the one he was closest to before his death in the army while they were both serving overseas.  levi, his other brother, is fourteen years younger, and tequila has always been very protective over him, though his being away for large chunks of his life means they’re not especially close.

TWO .    what is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?

for most of his life, tequila’s mother has been the person in the world he’s closest to, he’s honestly a  mostly  shameless mama’s boy.  contrary to what would probably be expected, most of his more… hellraising tendencies come from her, and she was always the one more understanding when he wound up in trouble or came home messed up from a fight.  in the end it was her request that got him to accept his surviving son discharge, and she took it hardest when he found he couldn’t stay put after it and instead leapt into rodeo work.  as far as she (and his father) know he works as a production supervisor for statesman liquor.  his visits and calls home are few and far between though, and their relationship has gotten distant over recent years, as he generally dislikes lying to his family about his work.

THREE .    what is/was your character’s relationship with their father like?

tequila’s relationship with his father has always been good but slightly distant.  they were never as close as he was with his mother, though there’s never been any animosity either, and tequila has a great deal of respect for him.  he was quicker to be angry when tequila landed himself in trouble in his early years, leaning more towards the disciplinarian side of things than his wife, but was always mostly fair in punishment.  their relationship became somewhat strained after tequila came out to his family as bisexual, but was mended following will’s death.  he was more understanding of tequila’s need to leave after his discharge, but as with his mother, things became even more distant after he joined statesman.

FOUR .    has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? if so, does anyone else know?

yes, of course.  tequila has seen many things that have changed him as a person and how he views the world.  there’s probably a full post to be made on this, but he’d seen a world of horrors in the army and continued to see more after joining statesman.  he’s also seen incredible good.  some things people know about and others he would never speak of.  i feel like this is kind of a cop out answer but there you go.

[kingsmanne]

@lancelady ❤︎ for a lyric starter! | blind guardian – you’re the voice

“We have the chance to turn pages over.”  

[singlemaltscott]

@lancelady​ cont.

The holidays weren’t his favorite time of year as most people. There hadn’t been much celebration with his family growing up. Just Christmas mass and the occasional sweet from his parents. During his time in the military the holidays had mostly involved alcohol or terribly crooned Christmas tunes around a fire. He didn’t DISLIKE the holidays. He had had some good Christmases since his recruitment to Kingsman. But what he couldn’t stand was Christmas music being blasted all across London the moment winter began.

In Merlin’s opinion there were three days during which it as acceptable to play Christmas music non-stop: Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day. Of course, he wasn’t expecting the gift from his AGENT. He took the disc, turning it over in his hands and reading the track list before looking back up to her. “Well, this is proper Christmas music.” He gave her a small smile. “Thank ye, lass. I’ve something fer ye as well.” He slid his rolling chair to the other side of his desk and took a small package from his drawer. “Some NEW tech fer yer upcoming assignments. Specially made.” It had been difficult at the start, to outfit Roxy, since all of their tech had been geared towards men but he’d been working to update her gadgets since then. 

“The pearls are dissolvable in liquid. Similar te the knock out darts but ingested fer assignments where the watch is nae an option fer ye. The heels have the standard blade like the oxfords. The stilettos are removable. Throwing KNIVES. The clutch handle is a removable garrote. The inner lining contains a series of bugs that can be monitored from yer glasses.”

[notimeforemotion-blog]

lancelady replied to your post: [bangs hands on  the table] where the fuck is my...

roxy as a head waiter tho

don’t u tease me

[grandguignolet-moved]

@lancelady

      Roxy has been told an infuriatingly low amount about her contact. She’s at Gare de Lyon in Paris, waiting to meet up with the French secret service, but her mission file gave the scantest of details. To risk compromising her, of course. Maybe it’s all in her mind, but it seems to her that Kingsman and its equivalent entities are far more worried about a woman spilling top secrets than they are any of their men. All this hardly matters, anyway, for when someone grabs her arm, she immediately reacts. He’s hardly had time to say “Pardon me, mademoiselle,” before her fist connects with his cheek. It’s not the most devastating punch she’s ever thrown, but certainly enough to ward off an attacker.

     Training could only account for so much. If reflexes didn’t also play their part, an agent was... well, ‘in trouble’ was putting it mildly, but of course if the discrepancy was too wide they would never have made agent at all. Neither was true of the man coded as Guignolet (in what the English cheekly called “the French Kingsman,” as if to thumb their noses at their Gaulish colleagues). Well-trained by the agency as well as doing many of his own stunts, the man was swift in reacting. Not enough to prevent collision entirely, but at least to deflect the force.

     “Careful, that’s my best cheek.” Delivered in complete deadpan.

[sleightofhands]

“If you were going to be completely selfish right now, what would you do?”

He’s startled by the question, though he doesn’t let it show. She’s got the hint of a smile, playful and only half-serious, and not for the first time does he feel like he’d missed something in training. She seems as cooly enigmatic as any other Kingsman agent, fitting her emotions into some complex hierarchy that he only barely understands. He doesn’t know what she hopes to get out of asking, doesn’t know what hidden meaning there’s meant to be, though he prides himself on being able to understand her better than most.

She’s got one brow quirked, mouth pursed a little in amusement, which means he’s been staring, letting silence unfold between them. Warm affection blooms in him, makes him step forward before he’s even really considered his answer, makes heat rise up from his neck and into cheeks. God, he’s an idiot.

If you were going to be completely selfish right now, what would you do?

He wonders if she wants some philosophic answer or something humorous, something to make her laugh or roll her eyes, something typical of him. 

Unpredictable impulsivity has always been a particular talent of his, probably what’s made it easy to leap without looking.

There’s so little distance left between them. She’d jumped, too, when the time had come. 

He reaches out to cup her face with both hands, just enough thought left to hope she doesn’t punch him in the face, and leans forward to kiss her. It’s brief, nothing more than the warm press of his lips against hers, and he closes his eyes, unwilling to admit he’s afraid he might’ve ruined everything. The thrill of having kissed her makes his heart race and he knows he can’t hide from it, not for long.

He opens his eyes again, slow and careful, only to study her. He quirks her a smile, afraid and stupidly, hopelessly gone for her.

“That, I s’pose.” 

[sleightofhands]

I’m going to have to start locking my fucking door.

“What’s that?” He’s already grinning as he pushes her door shut. He knows she’s only joking, hiding her smirk behind her laptop screen. Just to be a shit, he takes a running jump for her bed, laughing when she shoves at him. He props his chin in one hand, smirking up at her. “Some tosser botherin’ you?”