——— @ortums sent: oh, i live on the edge.
THERE'S A HALF SCOFF, HALF LAUGH CRADLED IN HER MOUTH, & she shakes her head in its aftermath. "wow, you're a reaaal original, huh." the city center sits far enough beneath the rooftop patio they reside on that the hum of traffic and dizzied tourism barely sounds real. there are pros and cons to an audience in their work. it's more dazzling to pull something off in a room full of people. something like the movies, which ilsa consumes far more than she'd ever admit if only to count how many ways the mission could and should have gone wrong. one time she counted 107 different endings. ( and yet the agent had pulled it off miraculously— ) a relatable feat. she is, by default, at her best when she's on the nick of time, needle in a haystack, pumped full of adrenaline with nothing but a straight-lipped smile and a shine in her eyes that somebody who's seen as much and done as much as she has absolutely should not have. but luckily ... today ... all they have to do is blend in. keep their cool, relax, and drink an all too expensive glass of wine. with as deep of conversation as they'd like so long as they looked like they were talking about something as mundane as the weather. "don't get too cocky now ... i can think of about twenty ways i could make this more thrilling for us ... who likes chalbis grand cru anyway?"