poison & medicine

"Poison is in everything, and no thing is without poison. The dosage makes it either a poison or a remedy." naomi phillips AKA agent belladonna written by bonnie for mercyorg

[tcxicities]

⊠    ɪᴅ  .  .  .  ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ    ››    [    RACHEL  WEISZ    /      FIFTY-ONE    /  CIS  FEMALE    /    SHE / HER / HERS    ]   mercy  headquarters  is  pleased  to  officially  introduce  NAOMI  PHILLIPS.  they  have  been  apart  of  the  organization  for  seventeen  years,  serving  as  a  BIOMEDICAL  agent  and  has  been  assigned  the  codename  AGENT  BELLADONNA.  it's  worth  noting  that  their  file  indicates  they  have  undergone  the  solaris  treatment  and  host  BIO-POISON  MANIPULATION.  according  to  our  dossier,  the  agent  exhibits  a  combination  of  SENSITIVE  and  WITHDRAWN  traits,  fitting  for  someone  reminiscent  of  house  plants  on  every  surface;  late  nights  in  a  medical  lab; tender  hands  that  can  heal  or  kill;  a  friendly  exterior  masking  the  pain  of  isolation;  amethyst  and  emerald  dripping  from  pale  fingertips.  prior  to  embarking  on  any  mission,  the  find  solace  in  listening  to  the  song  “sleepsong”  by  BASTILLE 

.....as depicted by bonnie for mercyorg

characteristics

full  name  : naomi phillips

aliases  : agent belladonna

age  : fifty-one

date  of  birth  : tbd 1998

occupation  : biomedical agent / medical doctor

marital  status  : divorced

sexuality  : tbd

gender and pronouns : female (she/her/hers)

radiance : bio-poison manipulation

biography

Naomi Phillips was certain that she would be a doctor from the age of six. Not only was it a family profession; it was her calling. A tender-hearted and precocious child, she knew exactly what she wanted to do, and set out to conquer every task put before her. She was nothing if not single-minded, devoted to her mission. Endless hours in labs, in the classroom, and finally in the hospitals. She had a solid career, but some part of her simply craved more, and the opportunity to work with Mercy was no small thing. There was no denying she had a fascination with their project, with their desire to quite literally save of the world, and most of all, with Solaris. No one could have predicted the effect it would have on her: poison taking root in her blood, quite literally dripping from her fingertips if she willed it to. Sometimes even if she didn't. It didn't all have to be bad, because after all, some medicines themselves are really just poisons. But more often than not, it proved destructive. Her life was changed by Mercy, everything given up. The man she had married realized he came second to her mission and couldn't tolerate it. Her career consumed her fully then, with nothing else she could manage to do. There was always another threat to manage, another agent to tend to or crisis to resolve. It gave her a sense of purpose, one she took deadly seriously. Between her personality and the effects of Solaris, she is isolated, more by choice than by circumstance. She cares for her fellow agents no matter their division, but she never allows herself to grow too close to anyone. There is plenty of work to be done, and when she has the opportunity, she experiments, however she can, with finding alternatives to the drug. Perhaps, deep down, it is for selfish reasons, to rid herself of the effects she fears will one day bring dire consequence.

[prentissrollins]

Rachel Weisz as Kathryn Bolkovac

The Whistleblower (2010) - dir. Larysa Kondracki (2/∞)

[greatpain]

➥     status  :  open  with  guinevere  lovelace ➥     location  :  the  dead  lucky  casino

          the  lights  cast  a  kaleidoscope  of  colors  across  the  casino  as  guinevere  navigates  with  purpose  through  the  throng  of  self  proclaimed  very  important  people  and  mercy  agents.  gaze  sharp  and  discerning  scans  the  crowd  for  familiar  faces,  turning  away  before  she  can  make  eye  contact  with  someone  she  used  to  know,  and  she  finds  herself  approaching  the  bar  with  measured  steps.  with  a  tilt  of  her  head  and  her  best  approximation  of  a  charming  smile,  she  pulls  the  person  closest  to  her  into  conversation  involuntarily.     "     luck  not  on  your  side  tonight     ?     or  are  you  just  on  edge  anticipating  something  to  go  wrong  like  it  did  the  last  time  there  were  one  too  many  agents  packed  in  the  same  room     ?     "

[tcxicities]

"A bit of both," Naomi replied, perhaps too honestly for her own good. Truthfully, she had no desire to be here at all, no particular affinity for gambling. But the voucher had been placed into her hand, and although it felt like something akin to hush money, she didn't want to let it go to waste.

Naomi had known Guinevere's family since her career with Mercy had started, had seen the way she matured into an agent and then left the agency as quickly as she had joined, it seemed. She had felt tremendous sympathy for her, all too familiar with the pain of friends and colleagues lost. Especially lately, it haunted, especially when her own division seemed to fall at the center of what had transpired.

"But I suppose I'm always jumpy in public," she continued, arms crossed - her gloves worn as ever to conceal the unwanted poison on her fingertips. "It's good to see you again, at least. How is the news network treating you? I hope it's a less stressful place to work."

[drksigns]

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙧   𝙛𝙤𝙧   .   .   .    anyone. 

𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 . . . the bar, at the governor's ball.

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘   𝐇𝐀𝐃   𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓   𝐎𝐅   𝐇𝐈𝐌   when   the   memo   had   first   graced   the   masses   of   mercy.   "   troubling   "   events.   five   agents   dead   under   "   suspicious   "   circumstances.   it   had   piqued   his   interest   rather   than   inspiring   horror,   or   sympathy,   or   dread  —   the   most   appropriate   responses   replaced   by simple   curiosity,   &   that   tingling   feeling   he   tends   to   get   in   his   fingertips   when   he  can't   help   himself.   &   of   course,   mercy   prepares   itself   with   unprecedented   security   against   cyberattacks,   so   he   hadn't   been   able   to   hack   beyond   the   initial   firewalls   (   that   are   mostly   there   for   show,   anyways   )  or   find   anything   remotely   interesting   about   what   had   happened   before   he'd   been   shut   down   —   by   his   own   father,   no   less.   a   scolding   ensued   that   had   left   prospero   pouting   like   a   petulant   child   all   the   way   to   the   governor's   ball   in   the   backseat   of   a   black   car,   flanked   on   either   side   by   both   of   his   parents,   who   practically   dragged   him   inside   by   his   ear,   planted   him   by   the   bar   &   told   him   to   stay   put   &   look   pretty.   a   simple   set   of   instructions,  &   that   was   that.   here   he   lingers,   vodka   martini   in   hand,   dripping   condensation   down   the   side   of   his   palm,   beady   eyes   flicking   absently   over   the   undulating   crowd   of   bodies   before   him.   upper   lip   curls   in   distaste,   hidden   behind   the   rim   of   his   glass   as   he   takes   a   slow,   unimpressed   sip.    “   how   dreadfully   dull.   ”    a   passing   comment   made   to   the   nearest   warm   body,   dead-eyed   gaze   flitting   to   his   left   to   his   unwitting   companion   before   scanning   the   room   again.   he's   been   here   five   minutes   &   he's   already   so   terribly   bored.     “   they   must   know   we're   best   employed   elsewhere,   not   milling   about   a   ballroom   making   nice   with   oligarchs.   ”    a   disgruntled   complaint   —   a   fussy   toddler   with   a   toy   taken   from   his   grasp,   moments   away   from   a   tantrum   —   motivation  to   stay   on   his   best   behavior   dwindling   by   the   second.

[tcxicities]

"Oh, you get used to it," Naomi drawled, though admittedly, she wasn't sure if she meant that, or what it was. The events, or simply the notion of being told when and where to be. Either way, she didn't savor either idea, though she had learned to live with them, a skill that seemed to be still developing in the broody junior agent beside her. "It's part of the job," she continued. "Playing nice with others. Especially if you want to go into the field." The next part came with a heavy layer of self deprecation: "Which is why I am not a field agent."

[tcxicities]

@reverum, the governor's ball

Naomi's eyes flicked back and forth across the ballroom as she tried to absorb what was going on around her. Things had settled after the initial anxiety triggered by the abrupt blackout, but there was still a feeling of unease ; the notion that something was brewing just under the surface of a placid sea, but vision not clear enough to comprehend what it was.

She had left the bar but remained at the room's fringes, relieved that at least she was in the presence of a familiar face. "You seem to be handling this quite well," she remarked, the statement a meaningful one, as she was all too aware of how he might react if he was not handling it. She took Xavier in, observing him there in the dark. "Do you suppose our new friends are what they seem?" She asked, remaining sotto voce.

[m8triarchs]

𝙻𝙾𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 … open starter ⟳ governors ball ; 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 .

❛   champagne   ,   thank   you   .   ❜   crystal   chimes   against   the   marble   countertop   adorning   the   bar,   the   round   of   applause   it   accompanies   almost   deafening.   zita's   own   hands   mimic   the   actions   of   others,   the   sound   hollow   and   empty,   a   reflection   of   truer   sentiments   towards   the   collaboration   –   just   another   stakeholder   to   appease   ,   the   voice   of   cynicism   muttered   within.   deft   digits   eventually   curl   around   the   tall   stem   of   her   champagne   flute,   the   glass   brought   to   lips   and   its   libation   savoured   ;   at   least   they   hadn't   scrimped   on   the   alcohol ,   which   was   so   often   the   case   at   such   galas.   no   sooner   had   the   glass   met   her   lips   the   room   descended   into   darkness   ,   emergency   lighting   swiftly   &   brightly   illuminating   the   concerned   and   confused   expressions   on   the   faces   of   the   attendees   ;   posture   rigid   ,   hues   assessing,   zita   mirrored   the   facades   of   others .   vibrations   from   within   her   purse   directed   her   attentions   and   with   her   phone   retrieved ,   the   message   was   read .   posture   relaxed   ,   lips   meeting   the   glass   once   more   for   a   calming   sip   .   ❛   don't   look   so   ...   serious   ,   we   do   not   wish   to   cause   a   panic   .   ❜   her   voice   was   low,   scarcely   a   whisper   to   the   colleague   beside   her   .

[tcxicities]

The tension in the room had already been palpable before the blackout, Naomi immediately sensing it from her vantage point at the bar. As usual, she had lingered at the room's edges, ill at ease in the dress and shoes that the gala required. Really, she was ill at ease anywhere that involved crowds, socializing, being around people. The gloves she wore provided some extra security, and almost seemed like they belonged as part of the outfit. The Chardonnay she was sipping helped too, admittedly.

She was no less tense as the lights gave way to darkness and then the dim glow. The message that lit the screen of her smartwatch was quickly dismissed, though her unease was clearly noticed before she so much as made eye contact with Zita. "Of course not," she agreed, quietly setting her glass down on the bar top as she glanced over the murmuring crowd. "Surely the timing isn't coincidental. Right after the big speech was finished." For a moment, she hesitated. "Ashamed to admit I don't know what we're staying on alert for."

[taiturner]

Sometimes, alone is safer. That’s not the conventional wisdom.

[breathtakingqueens]

RACHEL WEISZ by Thea Traff for The New York Times, April 2023