#| npc

[levimercer]

closed starter @codanpc

Mortimer was back.

Mortimer was back and the first thing he’d done upon seeing Levi was kiss him. In the middle of the Red fucking Square.

They hadn’t talked about it—Mortimer had been too exhausted and as soon as Levi’s rush of adrenaline faded, as soon as Mortimer was gone, the panic set in. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t get himself involved. He’d been devastated when he had thought Mortimer was dead, devastated in a way he wasn’t ready to admit.

It took almost losing Mortimer for Levi’s emotions to finally crystallize. There was no going back now—only attempts to minimize the damage.

First order of business: get piss drunk.

The bar across the street suited his needs just fine and he parked himself in a back corner booth. He opened a tab and told the waiter to keep the drinks coming. Perhaps alcohol would help him solve his Mortimer dilemma and if it didn’t, well, then he’d at least be drunk and that always made the world a bit easier to handle.

[levimercer]

closed starter @codanpc

Levi was dressed to blend in; black slacks and a black button-down that hardly stood out in the dimly lit club. Waiters, not unlike spies, were meant to be neither seen nor heard, not unless absolutely necessary. 

The energy among the CODA team had been palpable going into that night. There was something different about being in the club than being at the gala; something more sinister.

The energy spiked when Sandra walked in. Levi did a quick glance around the club; there was Lena, there was Klara—he knew Mortimer and Eden were at the door. So far, things were going smoothly.

After delivering a drink order to a table of four, he made his way towards Sandra and Stewart’s booth. Christ, was that her bodyguard? Levi couldn’t remember the last time he’d met someone taller than him. He looked like a fucking mountain which was saying something.

Levi fixed his face into a mask he hoped read as ‘slightly bored and overworked but not out of the ordinary’. Waiting this table would be just like any other (except, of course, it wouldn’t be).

“Good evening,” he said, pausing beside their booth. “May I take your drink order?”