#letale.starter

[thexagentxthirteen-blog]

Not many people liked to spend their free time doing the exact same thing as they did for their job. Then again, not many people were Arif Day. Arif was... unique. He finished up his latest hacking mission for UMBRA, but he stayed in his area of the tech center. And it was his area. No girls allowed. No boys allowed. Nobody except Arif allowed. (Not that anybody followed those rules, which were clearly stated in sharpie on the piece of paper taped to the door.) Arif had been in his office for... He had to look at the clock, then at the calendar. About two days now? Things were kinda hectic after the vice-director thing. There was a lot of news to cover up and people to look into. Arif had finished the work he was required to do, but now he had moved onto his recreational hacking. That is, until someone walked in. “So...” Arif said dramatically, spinning slowly in his chair to face the person. He steepled his fingers in his lap. “What brings you to my domain?”

[claralivng]

“Well, this takes me back.” Clara began, getting into character --- May Rogers; only child, freelance photographer that hasn’t gotten her big break yet, college dropout. It was good enough, right? “Last time I worked at an hotel we had rats instead of...” the girl looked at a weird statue, part of the decoration, “whatever that is.” Not that it was a complete lie; Clara did have to take odd jobs here and there and working at a run down hotel had been one of them. The best lies are the ones that have some truth to them, right?

[agentwei-blog]

Diana was so focused on the screen in front of her she almost didn’t notice anyone enter. She sat in front computer in the tech centre, more powerful and well-connected to UMBRA’s systems than her personal laptop, looking over the database UMBRA’s old case files. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, she’d lost track of time a while ago, but it didn't matter. Agent 07 wasn’t assigned to any mission - there was nothing to plan - which meant time to research, to investigate. It may not have been her area of expertise, but she couldn’t just sit and do nothing. Not for a moment. And no one knew the vice-director better than she did, there was a possibility, however slim, that she might find something. Anything. Anything not to be so in the dark. The solitude had just been... an additional benefit. She couldn’t say she needed time alone. She didn’t need time alone. She just... she just needed to work. 

“Hi,” Diana said, forcing herself to look up from the screens in front of her.  She tried to sound unaffected as possible, as if this were just any other day, as if she was looking though old case files for any other reason. “If you’re here to access the databases I expect I’ll be finished and out of the way... soon.” 

[alahelena]

catherine hughes, in romy’s perspective, had certainly made an impression. any time the young girl saw her little social circle disperse or fall into subjects of which she could not make any input, she let herself drift off into the room, a fresh glass of champagne in her hand by the time she reached a new circle she could make her way into. romy herself didn’t mind champagne, but the rate of new glasses she held in her hand suggested that catherine had a penchant for the bubbly drink. it was unclear whether catherine was drinking because she wasn’t much interested to be at the gala, or simply because she liked the taste of the drink. nonetheless, she still noticed the looks exchanged between some guests that clearly judged the younger girl and her innocence.

there had been few moments of repos as she worked the room until now, where she settled at one of the tables with a new glass-- though filled with water rather than alcoholic beverages. if she’d not been on a mission, she likely would have been nursing a glass of wine. though, of course, this was not the case. she settled back into her seat, looking over her glass of water as she took a sip while studying the room.

[agent-34-blog]

@emiliamariamartinez

Sandro couldn’t remember when his vision turned red, or when his focus switched from making the best of a shitty situation to simply staying alive, but maybe that didn’t matter anymore. The mission was compromised, Tehrani took his gun, and his brain had just turned foggy from too much alcohol with too little food. His fists, the one source of reliability no matter the scene, were formed long before now, eager to collide with a jaw, a gut, an eye -- anything nearby that just barely asked for it -- and as his steps echoed in the once-bustling corridor, the curled fingers of both fists raised to his chin in anticipation of throwing the first punch, senses heightening as he turned the corner.

There was no real threat here, only her, and when he saw the living, breathing face of the only agent he’d been properly assigned to assist and protect, he couldn’t help but exhale in relief. There was too much blood on his hands already.

“You,” Sandro barked, not caring who heard him when everything around them had turned to chaos. “With me.” He gestured for her to follow him as he turned back the other way. “Destination might be safe, but the path sure as shit won’t be. Got a gun on you?”

[linawalsh]

High society missions were not Lina’s forte, that much was obvious. She hated the posh environment, hated the crowd, hated the clothes — both, the blinding shimmer of the overpriced gowns and the restrictiveness of her own stupid uniform; but most of all, she hated the overbearing rich old farts who believed they owned the world and everyone in it. It was just her luck that one such specimen cut her off on her way back to the bar, a silver tray balanced on the tips of her fingers as elegantly as she could muster after a week-long practice, an order for three different wines she couldn’t even pronounce the names of going through her head as she did so. The man checked all the boxes — visibly rich, balding and with an ego the room could barely contain. He was gross, determined to flirt with her and all Lina could do was force the best ‘future dentist, people’s person Eva’ smile on her face while all she wanted to do, was to deck him in the jaw. Swear to god, a minute more and she’d do just that. Eva had drinks to deliver and Lina had phones to steal — neither had time or patience for this shit. 

[liseniven]

It was nightmares that jolted Lise from her fitful sleep. She snapped upwards, sweat-damp sheets clinging to her bare skin, nails digging crescents into her palms. She was no stranger to nightmares- it was part of the job. Part of seeing her family dead in front of her at the age of eighteen. Part of what she’d done, who she’d killed, what she’d been willing to sacrifice. Part of using her skills to peel back the dirty layers of truth that people would do anything to keep secret. It was part of who she was.

There were steps she took, to cleanse herself of nightmares.  The rush of adrenaline, fading but still present, assured Lise that there would be no more rest for tonight, but she would do what she was able to.

The first was to wash her hands. Next, change clothes, then get out of the room. Walk until she felt more real. Lise repeated the list, her mantra, over again and again as she entered the bathroom. The rules steadied her, calmed her pounding heart that felt so perilously close to breaking the confines of her chest.

A few minutes later, wearing a fresh pair of pajamas, she carefully opened the door to her quarters and slipped out. The air almost immediately felt less constrictive. Hands, clothes, get out. Hands, clothes, get out.  She made her way to the kitchen and heated up a mug of milk with a little honey stirred in. Not coffee, not now. She ducked out of the kitchen and settled herself down on one of the couches, finally allowing herself to consider the dream. It was the same one as always, but it never got easier.

The sound of footsteps startled her- she’d been caught up in her own head- but she didn’t jump. She was too worn out for any sort of visceral reaction. “Trouble sleeping?” She called, voice hoarse and more vulnerable than she’d ever normally let it be. 

[agntrobinson-blog]

         Ever since an attempt on the Director’s life had been made, things had been a little chaotic around UMBRA for Harry and his fellow agents. Well, as more chaotic than usual as it could be for somebody who worked for a secret division of a extra-governmental military counter-terrorism and intelligence agency. Harry’s debriefing from his last mission had rang longer than usual, the questions a lot more in depth than usual. He’d been fighting off falling asleep towards the end, stifling a yawn as he tried to concentrate on recounting his mission to his superior instead of dreaming about collapsing on his bed.

            Once his report was finished, and his questions were answered, Harry was dismissed and left the briefing room with haste. He was tired, desperate for a shower but most of all he was starving. With the agency up in arms after the death of the Vice Director, UMBRA’s schedule was tighter than ever, meaning Harry wouldn’t earn himself any lenience from the cafeteria this time with his charming smile if he was late.

          ❝ What’s left? ❞ Harry asked, yawning against the back of his hand as he stepped in line next to another agent.  ❝ Please tell me they have some of those garlic pizza rolls left. ❞