#sierra6x

[executiioner]

[ REQUEST FOR INFORMATION ] : // file / " SIX " , REDACTED [ DENIED ] _ AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY_ LEVEL 6 REQUIRED. ANY INCIDENTS MUST BE FILED WITH DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE. DO NOT ENGAGE. see field notes. [ NEXT FILE ] ©

[stingslikeabee]

Most unrealistic ever but pls entertain me, Kay/Zed, if Six and Mel had a kid

send me a pair name and I’ll tell you what I think it would be like if they had a child . accepting

Name: Virginia Claire Drysdell (the girl is named: a) after a Southern state; b) incorporates the name of Claire so Six can be related to a version of her by blood; c) only has mom's last name because Six is deleted from the system, after all). Gender: Female. General appearance: Virginia looks more like Six on the surface level - particularly because she got his lighter hair and the blue eyes, but her overall build and height are closer to Melissa's (petite, delicate-looking, the type of girl one feels the need to instinctively protect). She looks like a perfect porcelain doll, which is something that astonishes both of her parents because they consider themselves 'damaged goods'; how the hell their DNA combined in such a breathtaking way is beyond words. Virginia has very expressive eyes and can appear timid, but she's not - the moment she smiles, it's all gone; her smiles are wide, sincere and luminous. Apart from a tendency to break bones more easily than the average kid, she's very healthy. Personality: The girl looks deceptively demure and reserved - while, in truth, Virginia is loud laughter, affectionate hugs and incessant exploration. The fact is that she just takes longer to trust strangers/3rd parties to show her true self before them, something both her parents are both very good at doing. However, she is faster to bond and connect given the absence of traumatic episodes going up, and is generally well-liked and a breath of fresh air in the room. Virginia has a soft, nurturing side for all the broken and shunned things - from birds with damaged wings to the kids without friends, she is usually first in line to offer them some light to all that darkness. Special talents: Virginia can read anyone's body language flawlessly - probably because her father was never too big on saying certain things aloud and her mother wasn't so much better in that department. As a result, Virginia is surprisingly perceptive and will often interpret anyone's mood or thoughts with ease despite no words being said. Six doesn't need to tell her things - she just knows. In fact, if the two of them are alone, they will not speak when communicating sometimes. Who they like better: It's a close tie, but it's a little bit more Six than Melissa; Melissa doesn't even resent not being the favorite parent - she loves that it's actually Six because he sincerely needs genuine affection in his life. It's probably due to the fact that Virginia grew up to be someone who is really compassionate, and her father looks like the type of person who could do with a hug very often. The fact that they understand each other so well without speaking up also feels very special for Virginia - but she also appreciates and enjoys Melissa immensely; if the girls are together, her bubbly nature matches her mom's energy perfectly, too. Who they take after more: It's more evenly mixed here - usually people who are familiar with both Six and Melissa will say that Virginia is Six for outsiders and Melissa for insiders; she may appear reserved and ever inquisitive when she doesn't know someone, but will yearn for physical touch, laugh and smile often when she's safe within a trusted circle. It's a nice balance of the outward personalities of her parents and the way life shaped them (careful secret agent and charming intelligence broker). Personal Headcanon: Knows sign language, morse code and basically lives for enigmas, puzzles and secret languages; Virginia loves that Six speaks a million different languages and she is passionate about knowing everything about others means of communication - while she doesn't get to know what her father did until she was old enough to grasp the meaning of the Sierra Program and what it did to him, the girl always enjoyed the notion of creating special channels of communication and made her own ciphers for notes for her parents or friends. Faceclaim: Grace McKenna.

[whitesuited]

headcanon w/ @sierra6x that sharon gives six the hummingbird necklace she's had since she entered the academy as a little gesture of love and trust and wanting to keep him safe even though she'll swear up and down she's not superstitious.

it's specifically a hummingbird, because :

if she can't be there all the time to watch his back and keep him safe, at least he's got a part of her with him that might help a little.

[executiioner]

DEATH EXISTED WHEN LIFE BEGAN, long before the vestiges of humanity took its first breath. it was primordial, an ever present promise of mortality that few could stomach. except for those who knew it intimately. the room was concrete on all sides with an steel door, tucked under a facility that their prisoner wasnt allowed to know the location of. though 'prisoner' a rather ambitious. the smell of blood and death clung to her skin, stained and soaked through her clothes. her all black gaze lifted from her hands where they were chained to the metal table, tilting at the familiar face that walked through the door.

" the mortal mercenary, " the voice was a feather across skin, sultry and smooth in a way that anita never took the time to control. her voice but sewn together with something darker. " its a little ironic isnt it? calling on a reaper to handle a reaper. were they scared? "

@sierra6x liked for a smol starter !

[executiioner]

ANITA DIDNT HAVE A LOT OF FRIENDS. she liked to keep it that way, less people to worry about when shit inevitably hit the fan. the friends she did have weren't coming over for dating advice and book club. so imagine her surprise when she opened her door to see a familiar serious blonde on her welcome mat looking less happy that he usually was. her first reaction was to give him a once over, checking for blood— whether his own or someone elses was their favorite macabre guessing game. in the second it took to realize there was no blood to be found, her dark gaze looked up at his own.

" if someones not dead, you have three minutes, " she said, keeping her voice low and a little confused. usually she wouldve been more appreciative that he was there, maybe grab a beer and see what hes been up to. but she was still in her date clothes and make up, said-date in her apartment pouring them wine. he was about as average as they came, maybe even a little boring but she had time off and the itch she needed scratched didnt require him talking.

@sierra6x liked for a starter ! — based off this

[whitesuited]

𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙴𝙲𝚃 𝚀𝚄𝙾𝚃𝙴𝚂 ( SEND A '📜' ) ⇉ feat. @sierra6x

[whitesuited]

📸 𝙿𝙷𝙾𝚃𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚈 𝙰𝚂 𝙰 𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙷 𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙾𝙳 𝟹 -𝟻 𝙿𝙷𝙾𝚃𝙾𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚂𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙾𝙽 𝙷𝙰𝚂 𝙾𝙵 @sierra6x.

𝙵𝙸𝙶 𝙰. -- early CIA work; already thought he was pretty but refuses to admit it.

𝙵𝙸𝙶 𝙱. -- pit stop for late night snacks while she fills the gas tank on their rental.

𝙵𝙸𝙶 𝙲. -- checking in. six lost rock / paper / scissors so he has to talk to their handler.

𝙵𝙸𝙶 𝙳. -- post mission in [ REDACTED ] -- downtime / recovery. somehow he always manages to make a busted nose and black eyes look good.

[whitesuited]

the steady sound of the house music slowly creeps into the elevator the closer they get to the ground floor ------------- and she’s already dreading the amount of ‘ wub wub wub ’ garbage background sound she’s going to have to mentally block out so she can keep in contact with him once those elevator doors open and they’re meant to go take their respective positions on opposite ends of the building.

which of course means she’s going to make a point to enjoy what little quiet time they’re going to get for the next few hours ( if you could really call it that ---- a couple floors below their feet the bass had just apparently dropped to everyone else’s excitement ); and somewhere between checking the load out on her FNX for no less than the fifth time since they’d left and checking where they are on the floor countdown by way of the bright red LED lights above the doors the tip of her pinky finger casually hooks itself around his without so much as a glance over in his direction. ( they’ve worked together enough now to know that he’s going through his own mental checklist standing there next to her; and she’s not about to disturb his process with anything more than a little gesture to remind him that they’re in this together. )

she times hitting the button to keep the doors closed with their arrival on the ground floor; silencing the ping that would have come along with metal sliding back ( not that anyone would actually hear them with the volume of the music still making the air around them vibrate ) allowing them a few extra moments to prepare before they’re no longer in complete control of the situation. “ah,” she clicks her tongue as she taps the apple of her cheek ------------- a spot that’s easy enough to locate with a neutral expression, and one that’s made even more prominent with the way she’s trying not to grin too broadly while dropping a hint to a ritual she’s in the process of cementing before jobs like these; it may be an oldie, but in her book, it’s still awfully compelling; a kiss for good luck.

for someone who swears she isn’t superstitious, actions ( and callsigns ) say otherwise.

when the gesture isn’t acknowledged she turns to see why; quick enough to catch @sierra6x reaching out to hook the bottom of her chin with a curled finger and thumb. now she thinks she’s clever when she pushes herself up onto the balls of her feet, sneaking in another inch or two on top of the heels she’s stuck in for the next few hours ( appearances, appearances ) and stealing his bottom lip before he can lean down and try the same with her.

“you know the rules,” she murmurs before attempting to rock herself back down onto stiletto’d heels, but six’s thumb doesn’t move. instead, it pushes up against the underside of her chin, easing her head upward until she’s left trying to count the tiles on the elevator’s ceiling before his mouth charting a course down towards her throat has her eyelids fluttering shut.

( there’s a good string of seconds where her brain attempts to rationalize keeping those doors closed and daring him to do it again, but that isn’t what they came here to do ---- business before pleasure and all that bullshit. she’ll just have to hold onto the fact there will be plenty of time to return the favor once they’re back at their hotel later on. ) in the meantime, all she can do is bite her lip and swallow down a hum -------------- a sound he’ll feel if not hear as one song transitions into another just beyond the double doors.

her eyes open again ( reluctantly ), as is that inevitable ease back onto her heels --------- but not before she can catch the edge of his jaw just one more time with her teeth and offer instead a nip of encouragement.

her palm finds the doors open button with a ' ping '. “go get ‘em, tiger. make me proud.”