#pager-alerts

[special-ass-agent]

A black car with tainted windows stopped right in front of a small house. It wasn't especially old, but it was the first in a few kilometers. From the passenger side, a man gets out of the car, closing the door behind him without a look back. He's around 40 years old, back hair, glasses. He was wearing a dark grey coat.

He presses on the door belt and wait, pushing his glasses back on his nose, his right hand running into his hair to give them a better shape.

@philippe-muller no stress for when u have time!

It’s a secluded spot, where the house is. There isn’t any visitors, only one car sat in the driveway. The place was small, inconspicuous. Mundane. Boring.

There’s sounds of shuffling from inside, a clatter of something dropping, before the door finally creaked open. Only a small fraction, anyway. Curt’s head peaked through, eyeing the stranger. It’s obvious, despite being only a head shown, that he’s leaning against the door. He wasn’t quite entirely sure who this was, at least immediately, but..

“No solicitors, thank you.” He mumbled. “And no Girl Scouts. Not interested in any cookies.”

[special-ass-agent]

Paris was somewhere in Hatchetfield. Or, was.

They were visiting the United States for another mission. Still, they worked for no one, only for themselves and their theories, and they still hadn't been taken seriously as a real investigator. Some things never changed, they supposed.

Right now, Paris was sitting in a vintage style restaurant, eating from their plate slowly. God, they were tired. The whole day before then was spent looking for clues on whatever they were looking into. Paris loved that part of their 'job,' but it was still tiring nonetheless.

Ding!

They snapped out of their thoughts when a man walked through the restaurant entrance. They squinted. Have they seen this guy before, or were they crazy?

- @the-curious-adventurer

[I'M BACK! HUZZAH! for context this is the timeline where Paris didn't join chimera teehee]

It’s been four years, and Curt’s meant to be in Budapest by tomorrow.

But he’s still in The States for now, going through the last day of being a typical civilian until he got back into his career. Back to being a spy. The man he was supposed to be. A hand reached up and itched at the underside of his beard. It’s been easier to merely grow in a beard so he can look at himself in the mirror, pretend it was someone else staring back. It was easier than seeing the man, the face, that killed his partner.

He’s stepping into some restaurant, somewhere he’s been once or twice. It didn’t really matter to him. He just wanted a nice meal, instead of moping around like the rest of the week.

[special-ass-agent]

Agent Curt Mega was on another mission.

He had arrived at the scene, which was the inside of a large secured facility. The whole place was a mess. Papers and documents and whatnot were scattered everywhere, completely wiped of their information. And apparently, said information was really important.

So Curt looked around. He held his gun in one hand, his eyes looking over every crevice and corridor. Suddenly, he heard a loud crash from a room. Bingo. He had found the culprit. This was the easiest assignment yet.

He burst into the room, gun pointed to the noise... Which was a teenager, holding all the important documents in their hands. And by the looks of it, they were still stealing. What the fuck?

@the-curious-adventurer

Easiest mission of his life, especially with being by himself.

He's impressed by how fast he’s breezing through, without much as a bullet needing to be shot. Not yet, anyway. He had been careful, moving through without alerting much. It almost felt too easy, before he’s stepping into a room and his gun is immediately pointing at a… A teenager? Why was there a teenager here?

His gun didn’t lower, rather stepping forward. It was just him and this person in the room, anyway.

“Drop the documents!” Curt exclaimed, gun gesturing at the teen.

[special-ass-agent]

Paris is...somewhere, now. After waking up that day in the park in confusion and finding their way home, they hadn't seen Curt. In fact, 4 years passed before they somehow crossed paths again. And it was definitely a surprise. Paris grew up in the time of Curt's absence.

Now, they were a young adult, working as a half-legitimate investigator for something called CHIMERA. So seeing Agent Curt Mega again after all that time was a flashbang to them. No words needed to be said. It was a shock for both of them.

@the-curious-adventurer

It’s.. It’s been a while. A lot has happened.

Curt has changed, despite his strong attempts not to. Which, he’s only changed a little and people have suffered for it. For one, he had a re-encounter with Owen despite thinking he killed him years before and properly killing him this time. Another, he fumbled poorly at being a spy when he returned to the career briefly. Last, he’s gone out on his own now.

He’s found himself somewhere, at a familiar but quiet little park. Curt is tucked away quietly on a park bench, overlooking the majority of the place. His hands are folded together, thumbs fidgeting with each other.

[special-ass-agent]

Agent Curt Mega was on yet another mission (it was to be expected, he was spy.) He just finished shooting a mob of enemies. Easy enough, he'd taken down people before.

But he really didn't expect to see them again.

Paris Reyes. A 15 year old teenager who Curt Mega had met a few months back. And now, they were slumped on the ground, unconcious and bleeding.

Shit.

@the-curious-adventurer [I'M BACKKKK WOOOO]

Another mission, another continent. It starts to blend together, sometimes.

He was alone, even if he’s never officially paired with Owen. It always ended up with him in some capacity. But this was one of the rare, but technically should be common, times he was on a solo mission. These times always tended to be more forgettable.

He’s turning a corner, reloading his gun as he glanced back to double check if his shots met their targets. Hearing the small thuds, he breathed a sigh of relief. Gaze turning down this new corner, his eyes lock onto the sight of Paris Reyes. Someone who he had hoped to never meet again.. But, he supposed it would be inevitable.

Shuffling over and crouching beside them, he still kept his gun in-hand just for good measure. His free hand harshly shook their shoulder. “Paris? Paris, open those eyes. Not a good place to die.” He swiftly insisted, eyes going to check where they may be injured.

[special-ass-agent]

[Katherine was sent to look for something. Edwin said that it'd be here somewhere... but he didn't have much of a clue where. The old watch in their hand ticks. They know it's sometime in the 1960s, but beyond that they're not sure. So many variables they had very little information on, and yet so many stakes. Their Uncle would be furious if they didn't find anything.]

[Kik takes a deep breath, looking around the office space they've found themself in. At the very least, they know what that is. Information on a man called Carvour, and information on The Book.]

[They kneel next to a filing cabinet, quietly opening it and looking through the files. It's after hours, so nobody should be around to catch them.]

(nf!! :) @star-lit-clementine )

It’s after hours, for most people. For Curt, a spy’s job is never done.

It’s not an important detail right now on why he was there, why was doing anything or.. Well. It’s a mission. Confidential. He wouldn’t tell a soul, if he didn’t get that prideful about it. And the mission was boring, so it’s very unlikely.

The barrel of a gun is pressed to the back of Katherine. He didn’t get a good look at her face, but he knew she wasn’t with him. So he wasn’t going to let her continue. “Shut the filing cabinet and put everything you have to the floor slowly.” He kept his voice low.

[special-ass-agent]

David walks into Chimera New York's clinic, a cigarette hanging between his lips. He's not really thinking much as he passes the few hospital room they had in the compound.

Roughly, he opened the door of room 13 for minor injuries. Knowing Chimera, it could go from a broken limb to heavy stabing in vitals points. He didn't really agree with their way of treating patients, but it was a long work to redo the whole organization and not one he would initiate himself.

There, on one of the beds, the others completely empty, was Curt Mega, his shirt full of blood as well as the sheet, he was looking at the ceiling, eyes completely blank, provably to focus on something else than the blood. His hands were pressing his stomach, probably where the wound was.

David smiles, knowing Curt was in that state because he had asked to see him himself. It may seem bad for now, but at least he could assure that Curt would be treated correctly. He walks to the bed. Curt had been here for a few months by now, but they had not seen each other since the day they had burned Owen's house down.

Hello Mega, doing good?

for when u have time @philippe-muller (goodmorninggg)

CHIMERA is.. Different, to what he expected. Though, his expectation had been especially low. He expected something more glamorous and high-tech. Especially with the leg they ended up giving him, with all the maintenance and little tests they have him do at times.. But, he reasoned it was because of being a new agency, they didn’t have everything they wanted. Curt didn’t question it

It’s his second time getting injured on the job, while being part of CHIMERA.

The first time had been easier, less issue. A bandage had been smacked on with insistence on resting. He hadn’t listened, simply went back into the field to work. Which, he hadn’t heard anything in terms of going against a doctor’s orders and that was a month or two ago. Now he’s here again. With a worse wound.

His head stayed staring up at the ceiling. The pain flowing like the blood he had tripping out of him. He couldn’t tell if he was bleeding. He didn’t dare look, of course. His hand was firmly pressed against himself, not wanting to let any blood through. He bit his lip, trying not to gag at the mere thought.

Curt smelled smoke, before hearing him.

He already knew who that’d be.

His head slowly turned, gaze strictly staying on the other now. “David.” Curt greeted with a polite smile. “I’m doing okay. I don’t think that’ll last long, if you suddenly decide to cut me open like a carcass. Now that would be an issue.” He mused.

[special-ass-agent]

The door opens on it’s own and Owen walks in, he looks less like a work in progress, still mechanical but much less. Outside the room a  man with a sharp suit and a serious demeanor watches them. Owen pays him no mind as he focuses his attention entirely on Curt. his expression (because he can kind of make those now) is cold, full of rage but also.. Confusion? There is much on his mind.

Sorry for the wait, they had to take some precautions.. You know, so I don’t get up and leave.

@digitalintelligigencearchive

Curt's changed, since they last had an encounter.

He’s lost some weight, but he’s not starving. Either he’s refused to eat whatever CHIMERA has tried to feed him, or he hasn’t been fed consistently. He'd never answer that question directly, if he was asked. He’s lacking in sunlight, but that’s what imprisonment does to someone. His gaze is distant. Dull. His clothes and him are slightly dirty too. They focus on Owen when he stepped through, blinking at him slowly. Registering his presence.

He shuffled from the corner of the room, slowly moving to stand. A hand rested on the wall, to help stabilise. “Owen.” Despite the difference of appearance, he could always recognise him. A talent or a curse, he'll never think too much on that. “You look great.”