#modern open

[therapardalis]

Evening ...

Thera plucked a glass of champagne from a passing tray, casually hiding behind it as she made another survey of the room. The eye didn’t go wanting, the vintage detail of the Terrace Room bathed in rich ambient light, the sparkle of the chandeliers matching that of the glasses and frosted carafes - and imitated by the jewelry adorning many of the guests.

And it was the gathered crowd that earned most of her attention; dignitaries, millionaires - even the occasional bit of royalty here and there, sipping, nibbling and swapping outrageous stories.

Her lips curved in a smirk behind the rim of the glass. When had this sort of event become par for the course?

[therapardalis]

“We’re all brainwashed, one way or another. It’s just the lucky ones get washed clean.”

[therapardalis]

“We may have over-estimated the competence of our opposition.”

[therapardalis]

“Do I think Caesar was suspicious? I think he had no Ide-ea.”

[therapardalis]

“I’m a literate, learned, intelligent woman. Who never remembers to get a bloody shopping basket.”

[therapardalis]

[Time/era open, historical or modern]

Thera hated Madame Tussauds. That is to say, she appreciated the time and artistry that went into the creation of the wax models, but that same lifelike quality sent her skin trying to crawl off and herself mentally (and almost physically) skittering away like a spooked cat.

She’d forced herself inside the place exactly once, partly from curiosity and partly determination that the creepy feelings weren’t going to defeat her; an hour and a half of hairs-on-her-neck, which had ended shortly after she almost sucker-punched an innocent curator who had moved at the corner of her eye.

Ever since she’d managed to avoid the place other than a cursory glance on her way by, but an open day at the University of Westminster had put her directly across the road - eyeing Tussaud’s and wondering if she should (or dared) try again …

[therapardalis]

[Can adapt this for any verse or AU.]

... Nah. That wasn’t right.

If anyone noticed Thera prowling around, they were smart enough not to mention it. That or they figured they had the payload they’d been sent to get, and they gave no damns if Pardalis kept messing with the load of other random drek that had been packed away with it.

Whichever it was, Thera likewise gave no damn, as long as they left her alone. She had a Medi-patch on her shoulder, a frayed temper, and didn’t like most of of this retrieval team anyway. Plus, right now she had a very strong hunch that they were missing something here.

She hunkered down, on eye level with the annoying object that looked like it should open but didn’t, deciding whether she was going to poke it or not ...