#rcartwright

[gravityslingshot]

starter for @rcartwright

‘   Grown feathers, haven’t ya? P.C. fucking Plod’s bathroom stomper? God, look at you. Taverner’s long outgrown her periscope goose neck and you couldn’t get down the stairs faster than Charlie Chaplin.   ‘   Neither Desk wanted to look like a fool if their investigations proved to be a wild goose chase, who – were paying the bills of the administrative oubliette for a start, one-up from toilet paper. Now he’s sat here looking at a gathering of fuckups around the screens, much like families in pre-war London huddled in front of the wireless listening to Neville Chamberlain,  ‘   so here’s what we’re going to do.

' Hagrid and Polly Pocket’re out working out their real IQ. Depresso’s off on a Sherlock Holmes project with the eyes and brains of Watson.  If you can tear yourself away from gazing at the splendors of Ho’s treasure trove, you’re going to find out everything you can about Donovan and his nutbags. Names. Places. Dates. I want to know if he’s married a Yank and settled down in Stonehenge with inbred kids.   ‘

[agentinred]

❝ why do you do all of this? for money? some sort of revenge? or perhaps just for fun? ❞

“Oh, for fun, absolutely!” she said. “You should try it sometime. Very freeing, though it is terrible for one’s reputation.” And there she was keeping the casual façade of it all up. To many, it all seemed like a grand game. A theft here, another there, all romanticizing the travel and the endless night. “I mean, money is nice,” she went on, waving the glass in her hand vaguely, “Revenge is so…passé?…very last century. But the thrill?” She tapped her temple. “Irreplaceable.” Her eyes flickered over to the crowd dancing under colored lights, people swaying like a tide she could read and predict but didn’t dare to get close to. Behind every smile she gave, there were nights spent in empty houses, sleepless hours measuring every step, calculating any and every exit. Yet here, in the dim corner of the club, she let the world think she was merely enjoying herself. 

She leaned one elbow on the table, tilting her glass, letting the light glint off it. “History,” she murmured to herself, though loud enough for any curious ears to catch, “has a way of being dramatic. People forget what they took, what they lost. Maybe I like reminding them about it all.”The music thumped again, and she laughed softly… a charade.

[reedytoxin]

“Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?” What a curious question for @rcartwright to ask. Why even approach her; wasn’t he afraid of what she could do to him? Jan tilted her head slightly. “Where’s the fun in shooting someone from a distance? That’s never been my style.”

Her eyes were cold, perfectly in step with her voice, though her lips curved into something almost playful. “If you’re going to kill someone, you should be close enough to really see them, to hear the panic set in. Otherwise,” she shrugged lightly, “what’s the point?”

[pupil-of-law]

@rcartwright

Spider had still not worked out how everyone knew he was in a room before actually seeing him (it was the pleasant aroma of Penhaligon’s cologne that preceded him wherever he went). So when a door slammed against the MDF wall of the Mess and the dulcet tones of a supremely pissed-off River Cartwright rent the air of friendly post-exercise banter, Spider didn’t judge it worth the pain in his already sore everything to try and hide. Besides, hadn’t he been looking forward to this all day?

Spider had never forgiven River for being randomly assigned to room with him the day they'd arrived in Brecon. (‘Jesus, bad luck mate,’ he’d overhead someone snigger to Cartwright at the time). And it was for this, and no other motive - definitely not because, since he was acing every class, exercise and drill without even trying, Spider’s only form of entertainment was to torment River - that last night, whilst his roommate was snoring away as usual, he had taken apart River's service pistol and removed the tiny firing pin block with a tweezer. Today had been an exercise in clearing a safehouse full of terrorists - and if the gossip at the Mess bar could be believed, River had not passed with flying colours.

[dontcxckitup]

"I'll be fine. I'm great. I'm - I'm fantastic. Don't worry about me! I'm just gonna go... into this really nice... warm light..."

Hidden injuries

@rcartwright

The yearly first aid course was mandatory at MI6 to refresh the memory – even for M. So he was quite thankful it had taken place not too long ago, though he still knew the basics from his time in the military. His brow rose at the other’s words before he smacked the man’s cheek with his palm. Not too harsh, but also not too soft. He needed to stay awake, that was the most important thing right now.

“It’s a trap, soldier,” he told him. “The food there is terrible.” That helped sometimes, he had been told. He took off his suit jacket and began to pull on the other man’s clothes to reveal the wound; checking it for a second before he pressed his jacket into it to try and stop the bleeding.

[dontcxckitup]

[ 🔒 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a secret they’ve sworn never to tell ?

@rcartwright

// There is a dirty little secret of an SAS operation gone terribly wrong that was…swept under the table. He wasn’t the commanding officer at the time and not involved directly, but still feels terrible for knowing about it and having done nothing, to prevent it. Everyone had sworn to secrecy and to never talk about it as long as they lived.

[dontcxckitup]

"The good thing about people thinking you're dumb is they tend to give you the benefit of the doubt."

Probably a meme long forgotten

@rcartwright

"A wise man once said, 'Diplomacy is the art of telling people to go to hell in such a way that they ask for directions'. You have to be subtle at most aspects of your life. People underestimate you; but never make it too obvious, and don't overdo it."