#mission files

[the-roanoke-society]

fun fact: once upon a time, seraphim was called to assist with what was believed to be a problem of possession in birmingham, alabama. after a lot of confusion, a few days later, zed is called to their first house-call mission. seraphim’s voice was warm in their ear: “turns out this isn’t demonic. it’s ah--let’s say more your expertise.”

[agent-houdini]

oops.

She’d had three anxiety attacks in the last twelve hours - to say Houdini was on edge was an understatement. It might’ve been because she’d ‘forgotten’ to get her meds refilled and it also might’ve been because she was in the middle of a low. She hadn’t told Whiskey or anyone else, really, about what was happening. Houdini couldn’t bear to be a burden to those around her during these lows.

The mission was supposed to be simple, just a simple stakeout and asset collection. The asset was a shapeshifter who was on the radar of the black market sellers, set to be ‘listed’ within the next few days. The whole thing felt a bit too personal for anyone else to have been sent on it, which is why Houdini was possibly falling apart.

It also meant she was going to make a few careless mistakes; mistakes like the one she was about to make, defending the asset from the sale that came far faster than anticipated.

“You have to believe me!” the young man said as he was backed into an alley, hands up. “I dunno what you’re talking about, but I’m certainly not what or who you think I am!”

Houdini took a breath; she’d said the same thing, once upon a time. She tapped her watch, allowing her location to be shared with those watching the comms on her mission. An immediate extraction would be necessary with the anxiety budding in her chest once again. She wasn’t usually this far out into the field, but she’d taken it on after reading the file. 

Again, it was personal.

“Oh, I must’ve taken a wrong turn!” Houdini exclaimed; her hair was blonde, and she had sparkling green eyes. The dim lights of the alley seemed to capture this, and capture the interest of the exchange happening. Her watch vibrated, signaling a pickup in twenty minutes. 

She could definitely manage what was happening.

...if she kept the anxiety and sadness out of her head.

Someone would patch her up, right?

The thought crossed her mind as she noticed one of the people cornering the asset taking out a rather large knife. Where did they even store that thing? Houdini’s heart pounded in her chest even faster as the knife came closer.

“I think you’re lost, sweetheart,” they hummed, eyeing her carefully. 

“I think you are, actually,” she retorted, tilting her head. Houdini tossed a phone from her pocket to the shaking asset, who just barely caught it. The other two cornering the man turned towards her, distracted. “That’ll ring in twenty minutes. You’ll have a ride out of here when it does.”

She was going to be the person she would have wanted there.

... except for the knife fight coming her way.

“Right. I can absolutely handle this. Yep,” Houdini told herself, her hands beginning to shake slightly. The asset stared, horrified slightly as he watched the petite woman take on three, much larger assailants, clutching the phone in his hands. It was his only way out if things went south.

--

The asset, thankfully unharmed, stood against the wall of a building as the phone in his hand began to sing. Headlights flooded the alleyway, highbeams blinding anyone still conscious. He ran towards the light as someone stepped out of the car, more concerned for the woman, now a brunette, crumpled on the ground.

Houdini was a right mess, and it was her own doing. Thankfully, she’d managed to knock out two of the three assailants early in the fight with her stun gun. That was the easy part, seeing as neither of them had drawn a knife or any other kind of weapon. The third, however, was keen for a fight and took quite a bit from the agent. 

Her breathing was ragged, with several wounds that looked more severe than they actually were. (Thankfully, the third assailant was shit with a knife, but did enough topical damage before tossing it aside to really keep Houdini fighting.)

“Shit!” 

Houdini winced at the sound of her response team; since it was close to the Statesman distillery, they must’ve sent the one person who should not be allowed to see her in this state.

“Jesus, Laur’, what were you thinking?!” Whiskey snarled, causing her to wince.

“I was thinking - hic - I did a good job?” she sniffled, shivering on the ground. Her forehead felt sticky and she couldn’t count the other lacerations she suffered. Tears trickled down her face and part of her thought she’d deserved the beating.

 “On what planet?!” He sighed deeply, moving to scoop Houdini up. One hand reached for her watch, activating the communicator option; “Asset secured and returning to Statesman headquarters. Immediate medical assistance needed for Agent Houdini upon arrival.”

“Oops?” she sighed, not meeting his eyes.

Whiskey looked down at Houdini for a moment before realizing how hard she was crying. It didn’t seem to be because of her injuries, though they definitely looked like it hurt. 

Then he remembered the empty prescription bottle.

“It’s okay, darlin’ - I’m here.”

[agent-thorn]

Contracted Out

Carter swung his legs mindlessly as he sat perched on the ledge of brick wall. he supposed it was once a building, a gas station by the general cubism of it, but it has been long abandoned by society, and long inhabited by the wild. No matter the state of it, this was where his mission was starting so this is where he would wait *semi* patiently for his contact to arrive. The society had accepted a contract from an individual who had been recently exiled from the unseelie court: he was a paranoid fellow and didn’t trust anybody to not try and pick him off during his move. It was a simple escort mission, and as Parker still wasn’t signed off on fae work, it fell to Kieran. Who promptly said ‘fuck no’. And so it was that Carter received the mission. Kieran threw up a stink about that too, saying that Carter was too ‘irresponsibly green’ for his own mission, but when presented with the option to join him, declined and kept quiet. ‘No skin off my back,’ Carter pouted to himself as he recalled the way the senior agent gave him a half-hearted goodbye and sent him on his way. ‘It’s not like I wanted to get to know the only other fae I’ve encountered. Who’d want to talk to that dusty old grump who smells exactly like I think a father should anyways.’ He was pulled from his thoughts, which definitely wasn’t sulking, when some struggled clumsily through the bushes. “Hey!” He started brightly, determined to make this mission a good one, and the best way to do that was with a good first impression. “You’re the guy with the security contract right?” The small portly man, who was currently bent over and catching his breath, snapped his gaze up to Carter and gave him a scrutinizing look. “I beg your pardon, but you will address me as ‘Sir Theophilius’. If I had realized that Roanoke would’ve sent someone so curt, and make me hike out to this blasted location, I would’ve paid extra for better service!” The man looked like if the mole from the old ‘Thumbelina’ movie became a really fat human and decided to dress like a banker in 1901. So Carter decided that if he wasn’t going to make a new friend, he was going to have fun. “Oh Theo no, don’t be so down. See, when you hire Roanoke you hire the best.” He hopped effortlessly down from the wall and strode over to the man, tossing an arm around his shoulders. “Now if you’ll just step this way for a moment, and I will show you the true majesty of our capabilities.” He boasted, practically dragging the smaller man alongside him until he felt him go rigid and yelp with pain. “See? The reason we needed to meet here is that this is one of our resources; a rune circle that dispels any tracking device, spell, sigil, or connection that has been placed upon your person. Now don’t you worry Theo, now that we’ve taken care of your little problem that you weren’t even aware of, we can proceed with confidence to where you’ll be relocated.” He kept up the chatter for hours as they hiked, Showmanship and bravado gradually fading into his usual idle nonsense. Only stopping when he heard the tell-tale ‘click’ of a weapon in the distance. “Now Theo, I’m going to ask you to stand right here and-“ Carter pulled an egg from his pocket, the latest shielding spell from the ‘weapons development’ department, and cracked it over the other man’s head- freezing him in place instantly. “There we go, I’m going to take care of these friends you’ve seem to brought along, and then we’re going to have a talk.” He politely asked the surrounding environment and flora to hide his movements as best as they could, and snuck his way to where the noise came from. Sure enough, he crept up behind four masked individuals, all wielding glass weaponry enscripted with runes, and slowly creeping their way up to Theo, where he waited still and unmoving, a perfect target. A perfect distraction. “So I’m assuming y’all are here to answer my Craigslist add?” He started, getting their attention and throwing them off. “Well I did ask for four burly men to do unspeakable things to me, but y’all are a few days early.” “Speak villain,” one of them commanded, pointing his weapon at Carter but hesitating. “You sure? Usually people want me to stop speaking. Let’s change it up- why don’t you all tell me what the fuck you want.” The one who spoke, the smallest of the four, stood proudly and removed his mask. “We are the personal guard of the glorious Adwynnthe family, favored among the Unseelie court, and we are here to bring that sneaking creature to justice.” “So while that sounds super fun and hot and everything, I was under the assumption that he has already faced your courts and was exiled.” “That underhanded cur purloined the grand master’s emblem. Had the courts been privy to this information prior to final ruling, then surely his sentencing would have been exiling his miserable head from his body.” “Cool cool cool, right on. Only, and not to get into the details because I don’t really care, but I can’t let you do that.” Thorns, sharp and rigid, grew and pricked through his forearms and knuckles in preparation for a fight. They began to charge at him, only trip and get tangled in the roots and vines that had settled around their feet. One finally got free enough to try and crawl free, only to get kicked swiftly in the jaw. Carter reached into his pocket and threw a modified smoke bomb at the two coming toward him, releasing a cloud of powdered iron into the air, effectively blinding and choking everyone in the vicinity, him included.

Carter ignored the painful, acidic burn that numbed his hand and choked his airways, leaving him reeling and gasping for air as he stood in a defensive fighting stance that he could barely remember from training. Only no fight came, just some heavy thumping he couldn’t discern the location of.

“Y’ damn fool!” A familiar voice cut through the iron laden fog. Kieran strode towards him, holding a mask tightly over his face. “Didn’t even bring a fuckin’ gas mask. Your lucky I was around to take care of those goons and make sure you didn’t get yourself killed.”

“Aww Papa you do care.” Carter joked through his bowled over coughing fits. Looking over to where he threw the smoke bomb showed that Kieran had indeed took care of the ‘problem’. The four men who had been following them were now neatly restrained and unconscious. Maybe all that combat training was good for something.

“C’mon boy, we’ve still got work to do.” He clapped Carter on the shoulder and together they made their way over to where Theophilius waited, motionless and quiet. Carter rummaged through his pockets, and quickly discovered a heavy necklace, ornate and practically glowing with some sort of fae energy Carter wasn’t familiar with.

“Here you go boss man,” He chimed, tossing the pendant to Kieran, who snatched it out the air, and dispelled the enchantment keeping him in place.

“We’ll get this back to the rightful owner in a bit; I’ll take care of the guards, you get to clean up this mess. Have fun.” As Kieran sauntered away, Carter turned and smiled widely at the smaller man, slowly coming back to his surroundings.

“Theo,” He sang out. “You weren’t being honest with us.”

“Wh-what? I demand to know, where am I? What happened?”

“Relax Theo. You’re safe, but I am pissed. You put, in writing,” He pulled out a copy of the contract to waive in front in front the of man who was now starting to cower. “That we were to escort and protect, you, with ‘full and open intentions’, but I have just discovered that your real intentions were for us to escort and protect the ‘Adwynnthe family emblem’. So as far as I’m concerned, our contract is null and void. Now those gentlemen over there,” He pointed to the four guards. “Do not know as of yet, that we have returned the ‘Adwynnthe family emblem’, but don’t worry, I’ll leave a note. And since I’m so nice, I won’t wake them up right away either. Now, Sir Theophilius, if you wouldn’t mind being so kind as to getting the fuck out of my sight.”

Once the portly man scurried away, adequately frightened, Carter placed a crayon-written note in the pocket of one of the guards as Kieran released their bindings. It was about ten seconds before they fully woke up and were pointed in the right direction.

[agent-hood]

CONCERNING THE GEORGIA MISSION: 2XX8, AUG.

MISSION DEBRIEF

FILE #34B-1

CONCERNING THE GEORGIA MISSION: 2XX8, AUG.

 -audio file-

-recording start-

AGENT SERAPHIM: Feed on? We recording… good. Ok, this is Agent Seraphim residing over the preceding summary and debriefing of the mission that occurred in Georgia. Agents please state your handle.

AGENT HOOD: Agent Hood

AGENT THORN: Thorn

HOOD: You have to say your full handle Carter.

THORN: -sigh- fine. Agent Thorn. Happy?

SERAPHIM: Y’did fine son. Now please, tell me the events that happened.

HOOD: Well… It was a simple mission, a level 1 haunting of a barn in Georgia, so it was decided that this would be a good opportunity for Agent Thorn to get some supervised field hours in. I’d like the record to show that I was strongly against it from the beginning, but it was decided that I ‘was worrying too much’.

THORN: What? That’s not what she said.

HOOD: Yes it was. Agent Seraphim said ‘You worry too much’.

THORN: No she said ‘Y’worry t’ much’.

HOOD: I wasn’t being verbatim. And is that your southern accent? That’s terrible.

SERAPHIM: We don’t really need to-

THORN: No, it isn’t, listen- ‘Y’worry t’much shugar’.

HOOD: You sound ridiculous its ‘Yew wurry tuh muhch.’

SERAPHIM: Agents!

HOOD: Apologies Agent Seraphim.

THORN: Sorry Sera.

SERAPHIM: *sigh* It’s fine, but please continue.

THORN: Ok so! We get to the barn, and its real run down, I’m talking walls straight missing-

HOOD: It had been burned down years prior, but the bones of the structure was still standing.

THORN: Right, perfect for hauntings. So we poke around, do a little spooky investigations-

HOOD: We follow the proper protocol to determine the type and level of haunting.

THORN: And it’s a bunch of horses!

HOOD: …yes it appears the horses which died in the fire were upset. And after the investigation took place it was determined that the best way to deal with it was appeasing them.

THORN: They wanted the door open but since they were horses they didn’t know how and threw a fit.

SERAPHIM: And this is when the ‘incident’ took place?

HOOD: Well, not exactly-

THORN: We got the mission taken care of but I got kicked into the wall.

HOOD: And *someone* decided that it woukd be an appropriate time for a prank, instead of, I dunno- getting to medical

THORN: It was hilarious and you know it.

SERAPHIM: What happened?

HOOD: So, Agent Thorn was kicked into the wall and once the situation was promptly resolved, I went over to do a medical assement, during which he requested ‘boffa’.

SERAPHIM: And what is ‘boffa’?

THORN: Boffa deez nuts.

SERAPHIM: *snicker* And that’s when *restrained giggle*, Agent Hood kicked you in the side correct?

HOOD: …I assumed that since he was feeling well enough to joke, his health was able to handle such treatment.

SERAPHIM: I know he’s your brother, but y’don’t kick other agents Park. You bruised his ribs. Unfortunately I’m gonna have t’ give you an official warning.

HOOD: Noted ma’am.

SERAPHIM: And Carter. Time and a place son.

THORN: Noted ma’am.

SERAPHIM: Great. You’re both dismissed. *sounds of snuffling, a door open and closing* …Pfft… ‘boffa’

-end recording-

[maree-swan]

Rogue One - Mission Files

[the-roanoke-society]

the condemned.

once upon a time in louisiana, something went awry.

featuring @agent-houdini and, in a roundabout way, agent whiskey of statesman.

go tell aunt rhody, go tell aunt rhody, go tell aunt rhody, everybody’s dead...

figures. give the quartermaster a wet dream, get a nightmare in return. fair play, universe.

houdini woke slowly.

she savored the rare morning off, a gentle, natural awakening as opposed to an alarm jolting her from a dead sleep to go train the newest round of recruits. she inhaled, deep, stretched and—oh. that’s right. jack was in new york.

she missed the familiar weight, the warmth of him next to her, but… it did allow her to stretch her limbs out in every direction as far as they would go. she laid like that for a moment before rolling up and reaching for her specs on her nightstand.

as soon as she slipped them on, she could see a small red dot in the upper corner. a new transmission. she opened it.

the imagery that met her turned her blood to cotton.

it was seraphim. and she looked awful.

the feed was timestamped at a little over one o’ clock in the morning. houdini frowned. seraphim had been afield for at least a week, somewhere down in louisiana. she hadn’t given anyone the specifics of what she was doing, she’d just—left.

“… good morning.”

seraphim began, her voice rough. she was facing her specs, recording, in an unfamiliar room. the familiar tinge of green that came with night vision mode cloaked all the visuals. even past that, houdini could see her skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. it almost made it look like she was made of plastic. “i’m ah—i’m sorry, if this wakes you. but i—you’re the only one i trust with this.” a crooked smile.

her speech was… something was wrong. was she drunk? drugged? where even was she? “i’m not sure how much time i have so i’ll try to make this quick. if i do this the right way, your specs should start loading my coordinates riiiight about—now.” codes started to manifest in the opposite corner. latitude, longitude, a map. she was deep in the bayou. “and some other files i thought might be useful.”

a logo. red, white.

what was the umbrella corporation?

“remember the drug cartel? in santa fe? regla de perro blanco?” seraphim continued, and coughed. “i ah, did a bit more research, when we got back. lauren, this thing—went a lot deeper then we thought.” she swallowed, shaking her head, looking at the floor for a beat. “i don’t know what this corporation is, i’m—i’m not even sure i can explain what’s happening now.” seraphim shifted, and pain ghosted across her face.

“… it’s something unholy.” she sighed, glancing around the room. ‘room’ was a generous word. houdini squinted. dilapidated carpentry, old stone. more like a dungeon, she thought. a prison cell. if seraphim was sitting on something—a chair, maybe just a mattress on a floor—she couldn’t see it. “i came here alone, thinking that i’d be able to handle what i thought i was going to be a little bit of reconnaissance, field research. the same occult ties we saw in new mexico are everywhere here. they’d—on my way in they’d made an altar out of the bodies of deer, and…”

and for the first time, houdini saw fear in the agent’s eyes. “i was wrong. i should’ve listened to harry when he told me about james.” another nervous grin. “rae’s, uh, rae’s gonna be pissed when i get back.”

the more she spoke, houdini realized that no, she wasn’t drunk. she wasn’t drugged. she was sick. tendrils of dark hair had curled against her forehead, and there were dark smatters of something down the front of her shirt. houdini couldn’t tell what it was. she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

but through the feed, seraphim looked squarely at the camera, meeting houdini’s eyes. her expression was equal parts physical discomfort, a subtle horror, and a not-so-subtle despair.

a woman alone in a cold, dark room.

“this is me formally sending a distress signal. you and jack—well, jack hopefully after you’re finished watching this—are now officially the only agents who know my whereabouts and that i have been—detained.” her cadence slowed. her words were being carefully chosen.

“and i am choosing the both of you, because you were with me in new mexico. and therefore you both—“ more coughing, a bit more violent. “—you both would understand why i came down here. this—this was—“ she made a vague gesture. “an accident. if—if i’d known—“ she ran her hands through her hair. she was shaking. “guess i’m not as strong as i thought i was, huh?” she tried to laugh, but houdini could see tears forming in her eyes.

she’d never seen seraphim this scared before and it was disturbing on a level she couldn’t quite articulate. their fearless leader, not so fearless anymore.

“and tell—tell merlin—“ for a second, seraphim couldn’t speak. she lifted a hand to her mouth, gazed off at some far-off point, breathing. trying to regain her composure. but her voice was thick when she began, “—lauren, i need you to lie to him. i need you to tell him whatever he needs to hear so that he’s not worried. he—he can’t know i’m down here, even lillith just knows i’m somewhere in the state, and… and i know, it’s already been a few days, i know hamish’s going to get suspicious, might already be but—“

tears began to roll down her cheeks. the night vision caught two separate glints of light—a cross around her neck, and her engagement band on her left hand. she wiped at her face, “—there’s nothing for it, lauren. you can ask him for any new tech, that’s it. this is a road that would swallow a quartermaster whole. and if—if you and jack can’t find me, or it’s been three weeks since this transmission and i’m not back…”

more coughing, this time so aggressive that seraphim bent in half out of frame. when she sat back up, she wiped at her mouth, and was that a smear of blood on the back of her hand? jesus, what had been done to her?

she stuttered out her next words, and houdini had a horrendous thought that maybe she was still choking on whatever dark substance had just come up her throat. she thought she was going to be sick for a second. “… w-well. in that case. tell him the truth. i asked you to cover for me, because i wanted to protect him, and—“ seraphim’s voice was steady, but she was weeping. “—that he was the love of my life. and it’s—“ she swayed, as if faint. don’t pass out, morgan, not yet-- “—i want to minimize the damage of what i have done.”

there were creaks. they sounded distant. seraphim abruptly froze, eyes wide, body stiff. listening. and houdini pressed her specs into her face, hearing what might’ve been footsteps over seraphim’s holding cell through an old wooden floor, not realizing that she’d been holding her breath until it was over.

seraphim waited until they’d passed. then closed her eyes, let out a smooth exhale. smiled. she whispered, “… but we’ll do as jack says, as burn that bridge when we get there. i will see you soon.” seraphim reached out then to grab the glasses, and the feed visuals shifted as she moved to shut them off. “help me lauren-wan kenobi—“ more footage of the room. “—you’re my only h—“

a gasp. a quick image at the very last second of the feed that passed too quickly.

then nothing.

houdini was fighting to not have a panic attack.

she reopened the transmission, fast-forwarding to the last few seconds, purposefully slowing the frames.

there was nothing about the building that seraphim was being held in that was helpful. it was rotting, it was condemned, and looked like many properties she’d seen the exorcist cleanse with agent succubus. garbage and—bones? all over the floor. scattered papers. she caught the corner of a stained box spring. a few empty budweiser bottles.

and that final frame.

jail-like bars. a doorway. light spilling out behind a man easily as tall as merlin, and twice as wide. the light blacked out all of his features, but caught on the lenses of his glasses.

in an apartment in new york, a phone screen lit up.

[8:46 AM]

sweetheart calling . . .

[the-roanoke-society]

[the-roanoke-society]