Ellie Watson

[the-ellie-watson]

Is that ELEANOR ‘ELLIE’ WATSON? I heard the TWENTY-FOUR year old belongs to the ECHO as an HACKER. I’d stay away from them if I were you. I heard they were GENEROUS, but they can also be COLTISH, so proceed at your own risk.

Basics.

full name: eleanor rose watson nickname(s): ellie, bambi age: twenty-four birthdate: march 20th star sign: pisces gender: cisfemale pronouns: she/her sexuality: heterosexual, still exploring birthplace: london, england current residence: los angeles, california languages: english, german, some french

Reflection.

face claim: bella maclean hair color: reddish blonde eye color: green/blue height: 5’5 ft. / 165.1 build: petite and slender. tattoos: none. scars: a small white one above her eyebrow from getting hit by a frisbee.

Personality.

characteristics: overly sensitive, pushover, selfless, trouble with boundaries, easy-going, romantic, hard to pin-down, tough outer shell, caring, self-sufficient, shy, awkward, emotional, guarded, empathetic, intuitive. fears: spiders, guns, not finding out what happened to her best friend passions/hobbies: computers, hacking, baking, aggravating mansplainers, crossword puzzles, board games, taking apart computers, reading self-help books, tennis, horseback riding, and scifi tv shows. character inspo: stiles stilinski (teen wolf), darlene (mr robot), felicity smoak (arrow), skye (agents of shield) drugs/ alcohol/ smoking: sometimes / sometimes / never colors: lots of neutrals, wears a lot of muted tones, likes pastel colors.

aesthetics

a handmade blanket from grandma, falling asleep slumped over a computer desk, smiling through tears, flower themed earrings, planning out conversations before you have them, a cute exterior with dark insides, perfectly manicured nails, trying to speak but being talked over, putting a blanket over someone who fell asleep, daydreaming of a different reality, getting lost in a romance novel, having a detailed plan, singing off key to the latest pop song, and doe eyes.

Backstory.

Eleanor “Ellie” Watson was born and raised in London, England, the only child of an upper-middle-class family. From the beginning, she was different. Shy, awkward, and painfully coltish, Ellie struggled to fit in. Her large, expressive doe eyes and nervous energy only seemed to amplify the discomfort she brought to social situations. She rarely spoke unless necessary, and when she did, her words often came out stilted or too blunt, further alienating her from her peers. Her parents, though well-meaning, didn’t understand her. They enrolled her in various activities—dance classes, art workshops, even team sports—hoping she’d break out of her shell. Nothing stuck. Worried, they sought psychological help, convinced something was “wrong” with her. The doctors, however, disagreed. She wasn’t broken, they said—just introverted. She would grow out of it. She never did. Instead, Ellie retreated into the only world that made sense to her: computers.

Ellie’s fascination with computers began early. She was seven when her father brought home an old, outdated laptop for her to play with. Most kids would have used it for games—Ellie took it apart. By ten, she was coding; by twelve, she was bypassing school firewalls just for fun. The logic, the structure, the way everything had a solution—it was the exact opposite of the chaotic, unpredictable world of people. Computers didn’t judge her. They didn’t make her feel small. At school, Ellie was never popular, but she found a purpose. She became the unofficial IT department, fixing her classmates’ phones, troubleshooting teachers’ software issues, even upgrading school computers when nobody was looking, not because they liked her, but because they needed her. It wasn’t friendship, but it was something. At sixteen, she stumbled into the underground hacking scene. A simple curiosity—“How do hackers actually break into things?”—turned into an obsession. She spent hours on forums, learning from others, experimenting with different exploits. Eventually, she took on the alias Bambi, a childhood nickname from her father due to her oversized, innocent-looking eyes. The name stuck, and soon, Bambi was making waves. She was careful, never reckless. She never hacked for money, never caused harm—only tested limits. It was thrilling. It was hers. Her talents earned her an acceptance letter to the California Institute of Technology, one of the world’s top universities for computer science. It was the fresh start she had been hoping for—a chance to reinvent herself in a new country, away from the social baggage of her past. For the first time in her life, Ellie felt hopeful.

At eighteen, Ellie arrived in California with high hopes. She told herself she would be different this time—more outgoing, more social, more normal. It didn’t last. Despite her best efforts, Ellie still came across as awkward. She overthought conversations, hesitated too long before speaking, and struggled to connect. The isolation she had felt back home followed her across the ocean. Then she met Madison. Madison was everything Ellie wasn’t. Effortlessly charismatic, confident, and magnetic, she was the kind of person who could make anyone feel like they belonged. And for some reason, she chose Ellie. At first, Ellie couldn’t believe it. Why would someone like Madison want to be friends with someone like her? But Madison never treated her like an outsider. She pulled Ellie into her world, introducing her to people, bringing her along to parties, helping her navigate social situations. More than that, she made Ellie feel valued—not for what she could do, but for who she was. They became inseparable. Madison’s family even welcomed Ellie into their home during school holidays, giving her a sense of warmth and belonging she had never known. Ellie adored her. It was the closest Ellie had ever felt to having a real friend. But Madison had secrets. There were late-night phone calls, hushed conversations, tense moments she never explained. Ellie, desperate to keep the one person who made her feel like she belonged, never questioned it. Maybe she should have.

One night, in the middle of their junior year, Ellie pulled an all-nighter in the computer lab. She returned to their shared dorm just as the sun was rising, exhausted but pleased with her work. Then she saw Madison. She was lying in bed, motionless, the room eerily quiet. Ellie called her name. Shook her shoulder. When Madison didn’t respond, Ellie turned on the light— And saw the pills. The empty bottle. The unnatural stillness of her body. She screamed. The police came. The paramedics. But it was too late. Madison was gone. Ellie could barely process what was happening as the officers questioned her. Had Madison seemed depressed? Had she talked about hurting herself? Had Ellie noticed anything unusual? She answered honestly: No. Madison had been full of life. They were graduating next year. They made plans to get jobs together and keep living together. There had been no warning signs, no late-night confessions of despair. It didn’t make sense. But the police ruled it a suicide. Case closed. Ellie knew they were wrong, but no matter how much she pushed, the police refused to look further into it. They told her to drop it and move on.

Grief-stricken and furious, Ellie devoted herself to uncovering the truth. She combed through Madison’s messages, traced her movements, hacked into whatever systems she could to piece together what had really happened. Her search led her to a chilling realization: Madison had been tangled in something dangerous. Her name appeared in police reports, linked to known gang affiliates. There were encrypted messages she couldn’t crack. Transactions that didn’t add up. Her hacking drew attention—not just from the authorities, but from Echo, a hacker gang that wanted her skills. They tried to recruit her, but Ellie refused. She wasn’t going to join the same world that had taken her best friend. Then she made a mistake. During a risky attempt to access restricted police records, Ellie tripped an alarm. She was caught.

The police arrested her. Interrogated her. She was facing serious charges, and for a moment, she thought her life was over. However, she lucked out by getting a skilled lawyer to negotiate probation instead of jail time, but Ellie knew she had pushed her limits. She had exhausted every resource she had on her own. If she wanted to keep digging, she needed backup. So, reluctantly, she went back to Echo and accepted their offer.

For the past year and a half, Ellie has been working with Echo, using her skills for their operations while secretly continuing her search for the truth. She’s learned to navigate the criminal world, bending the rules where necessary, but never harming the innocent. She doesn’t trust easily. She keeps her secrets close. But one thing is certain: someone is responsible for Madison’s death. And Ellie will find them—no matter what it takes.

[hauntedglances-deactivated20250]

Leo swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as Ellie’s words settled between them like a weight he didn’t know how to carry. You make me feel like I’m not alone. That shouldn’t have affected him the way it did. He’d spent years convincing himself that distance was safer, that caring too much only led to disappointment, that attachment was just another weakness waiting to be exploited. And yet, here she was, curled up against him, trusting him in a way that made his chest ache. It was too much. It was terrifying.

But it was also… safe.

Leo let out a slow breath, his grip on her tightening just slightly, like some part of him was afraid she’d disappear if he let go. He wasn’t good with words, not like she was. He didn’t know how to tell her that she wasn’t the only one feeling something here, that she wasn’t the only one who found a strange, uneasy comfort in this. He could barely admit it to himself, let alone her.

But she felt safe with him. Safe.

His fingers flexed against her back, his pulse thrumming a little harder beneath her touch. He should say something—something sharp to cut through the moment, something that would shove them both back behind the walls he knew were safer. But he didn’t. Instead, against every instinct screaming at him to pull away, he leaned in. He hesitated just for a second, hovering, giving himself that final chance to back off. But then Ellie shifted against him, warm and trusting and so damn close, and before he could stop himself, he kissed her. It wasn’t soft, wasn’t hesitant—it was firm, sure, the kind of kiss that said everything he wasn’t willing to put into words. His hand came up to cradle the side of her face, thumb brushing against her cheek as he let himself feel—just for this moment, just for her.

And when he finally pulled back, his breath uneven, his forehead resting against hers, he murmured, almost reluctantly, “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing to me, Ellie.”

[the-ellie-watson]

Ellie’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat as Leo’s lips met hers. The kiss was unexpected, yet somehow it felt like the only thing that made sense in that moment. She wasn’t sure what to do with the rush of emotions that flooded through her—everything from surprise to warmth to a quiet sense of belonging. Ellie hadn't felt this level of acceptance, this care, since Madison and that loss devastated her. She swore she would protect her heart more. It was all so overwhelming, but it was... safe. And for once, she didn’t want to run away from that feeling. She gave in, allowing herself to melt into the kiss, her hands finding their way to his chest, holding on as if he might disappear if she let go.

When he pulled back, Ellie’s mind was still spinning, her cheeks flushed, her heart pounding against her ribs like it was trying to escape. His words, so raw and honest, left her feeling exposed in a way she hadn’t expected. "I don’t know what the hell you’re doing to me, Ellie." The vulnerability in his voice caught her off guard. Leo Barone was someone who closed himself off, yet chose to open up to her. She swallowed, her voice coming out soft and unsure as she spoke, the words a reflection of how much she was trying to process. “I… I think I’m doing the same thing to you, Leo,” she whispered, her fingers tracing circles against his shirt, as if grounding herself in the moment. She couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at her lips, the shyness creeping in as she finally allowed herself to breathe a little easier. "It’s just… I feel like I’ve been lost for so long, and you—" She stopped, unsure how to put it into words, but feeling more comfortable in this small, intimate space between them than she had in a long time. "With you, Leo... I feel like I’m not so alone anymore. Like maybe I don’t have to be afraid."

[thewoundedveil-deactivated20250]

Gabriel’s glass hit the bar with a sharp clink, harder than he'd meant. His hand stayed tight around it, his knuckles white. “You think saying I’m sorry is supposed to fix this?” His voice was low, tight, but there was heat simmering just beneath it. He turned to her, his gaze sharp enough to cut. “You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve given up, what I’ve put myself through. So don’t stand there and act like you understand.” His breath came out hard and fast, like he’d been holding it in for too long. Gabriel built everything he had with discipline and hard work, while my brother coasted through life charming people and making excuses. His hand twitched like he wanted to grab something, a glass, a bottle, maybe just something to break. And now I’m supposed to just... accept that none of it mattered? The thought broke him in a way he didn't expect. Gabriel scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. “I don’t need pity,” he snapped. “And I sure as hell don’t need some stranger trying to… to fix me.”

For a beat, the silence between them stretched — heavy and tense. His shoulders rose and fell with each breath, his jaw still tight. But as his gaze settled on her face, the startled look in her eyes, the way her fingers fidgeted with her purse strap, something shifted. He exhaled sharply and turned away, his fingers relaxing from the glass like he'd only just realized how tightly he'd been holding it. “...Forget it,” he muttered, quieter this time. “I shouldn’t have - I just…” He shook his head, voice dropping to a rough whisper. “I’m not great company right now.” His eyes flicked to hers one last time , regret flickering there, faint but unmistakable, before he reached for his drink again, bracing himself for the burn.

[the-ellie-watson]

Ellie flinched at the sharpness of his words, the force of them hitting her like a slap she hadn't braced for. Her breath caught in her throat, but she swallowed it down, blinking hard. She wasn't stupid—she knew grief made people lash out, knew pain twisted its way into everything, making even kindness feel like an insult. But that didn’t stop it from stinging, from leaving an ache behind her ribs that she didn’t know what to do with. Her fingers curled around the strap of her purse, gripping it tight like it might hold her together. She should walk away. She knew that. Most people would. But Ellie had never been good at keeping space where it was needed, at knowing when to step back instead of leaning in.

So, instead, she inhaled carefully, forcing her voice to steady even as the hurt bled through. “I wasn’t trying to fix you,” she said, soft but certain. “And it’s not pity.” She hesitated, shifting her weight like she was caught between running and staying. “I just… I know what it’s like. To lose someone. To feel like your life was flipped upside down. To have it sit inside you like this—like it’s never gonna go away.” She dragged her fingers through her hair, exhaling shakily. “I don’t know you. You’re right about that. But I don’t think that means I can’t care.” Her lips pressed together for a moment before she finally stepped back, gaze flicking toward the bar top instead of his face. “I won’t bother you again.” The words were quiet, almost fragile, and she hated that. Hated that she cared too much, that she felt things too deeply even when she had no right to. But Ellie had never been the kind of person who could turn it off.

[cfdeliicate-deactivated20260314]

It still surprised her how much ballet had shaped her personality and mindset. It was often the little things that caught her attention, the less obvious parts of her training that's taken their permanent spot in her life. Like the precise self-control it took to keep her cool composture while Ellie's words hit hard. Each one sinking deeper.

Gigi didn't reply right away. It'd mostly likely would have made the matter worse if she did, but over the years she'd learnt to bite her tongue, to subdue that impulsive reaction to shoot the first thing to come to her mind. Once she'd given herself time to think through the woman's words, she realized Ellie was right. As much as Gigi hated Madison for stealing her spotlight, she never wished for her to be gone. All she ever wanted was for her to fail. At least once, to not always be this perfect in their parents' eyes, despite it never being her fault. They both deserved better; better parents who'd treat them equally and praise their own strenghts and accomplishments.

Taking a deep breath, Gigi exhaled and took a sip from her cup. She was going to need something stronger than coffee. "Sometimes it's better to stir away instead of going head first into the flames." She wasn't the right person to judge when she never saw the full picture, but maybe if her sister hadn't let her secrets drag her this deep she might still be alive. "But if you're certain you want to get to the bottom of it," there was a moment of hesitation, which immediately faded at the idea of how she'd failed Madison. She wasn't going to repeat that mistake with Ellie, too. "At least let me help." Another long moment of silence passed before Gigi finally changed the subject. "So you think it's all connected?"

[the-ellie-watson]

Ellie shifted in her seat, curling her fingers tightly around her phone before turning it toward Gigi. Her throat felt tight, but she forced herself to speak. "Yeah. I do." Her voice was softer than she wanted it to be, but the weight behind her words was undeniable. She swiped through the pictures, each one another nail in the coffin of her suspicions. "This isn’t just some random thing, Gigi. Madison was involved with something—something dangerous. Look." She pointed to the shadowed figure in the background of one of the shots, someone lingering just out of reach, like a ghost haunting the edges of Madison’s life. "I know he’s connected to one of the gangs, but I don’t know which one yet. I just—" She exhaled sharply, biting the inside of her cheek to steady herself. "I can’t let this go. She wouldn’t have."

Ellie had never been good at boundaries, but she knew she was past the point of turning back. Every lead she chased felt like another step closer to the truth—or a trap. Probably both. But none of it scared her as much as the thought of letting Madison down. She hesitated before meeting Gigi’s gaze, her fingers tightening around the phone. "I appreciate the offer. I do. But I don’t want to drag you into this if you’re not ready." It wasn’t a challenge; it was concern. Gigi had already lost one sister. Ellie wasn’t about to be the reason she lost herself, too.

[hauntedglances-deactivated20250]

Leo stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of her—tangled up in the blanket, vulnerable, small, and clearly shaken. He could see the way she was trying to pull herself together, but it was obvious she was drowning. And despite the fact that he’d spent his whole life pushing people away, ignoring feelings, or burying them under layers of sarcastic humor, there was something about Ellie that made him want to fight that instinct. He was always prepared for a fight, but with her, it felt different.

"You're doing better than most," Leo said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. A lousy joke. He didn’t even think, didn’t even register what he’d said until the silence that followed. He cursed under his breath. "Shit, I’m sorry," Leo muttered, stepping forward and sitting down next to her on the couch. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel worse. He didn't reach for her at first. He didn't even know if she'd want him to, but his hands moved anyway, pulling her into a hug. It was awkward at first—he wasn’t good at this sort of thing—but he did it anyway. She needed it. He needed it too, in some fucked-up way he wasn't ready to admit.

"Listen," Leo's voice was low, almost gruff as he spoke into her hair. "You’re not supposed to handle this alone. You don't need to be strong for me, okay? You don't have to do anything but feel what you feel. I don't care about any of that bullshit. You’re... you’re not broken." The words didn't feel like his own, like he was regurgitating the words his therapist spoke to him, His arms tightened a bit around her, a protective instinct kicking in. The last thing he wanted was for her to go through this shit on her own.

"Whatever you’re feeling," Leo continued, his voice steady but not without a hint of the aggression that came when he was trying to shield someone, "you don’t have to apologize for it. And you don’t have to figure it out right now. So don’t go trying to handle it all by yourself. That’s the mistake." It was what he did, keep it all within himself until he exploded. And it sucked. He pulled back slightly, looking at her. There was something flickering in his chest, a feeling he wasn’t used to, but he tried to shove it aside. She didn’t need him to be a mess right now.

[the-ellie-watson]

Ellie stayed nestled against him, the warmth of Leo’s embrace providing a surprising sense of comfort, even if her mind was still reeling. His words, though rough, were like an anchor, holding her steady in a storm of emotions she didn’t know how to sort through. She felt the beat of his heart under her ear, steady and strong, and for a moment, she allowed herself to close her eyes and just listen. It was grounding.

She couldn’t quite shake the weight of everything that had happened, the overwhelming chaos of the gala, and the way it had all suddenly crumbled into something dark and terrifying. But in that moment, with Leo’s arms around her, she felt like she could breathe again. She shifted slightly, just enough to look up at him, her face still pale but softer now, her eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and a tentative trust. “I don’t think I could do this without you,” Ellie murmured, her voice quieter now, the weight of her words settling between them. “You make me feel like I’m not… alone in all of this.” Her lips trembled as she forced herself to meet his gaze, a bit of the uncertainty creeping back.

“Leo,” she whispered, shifting slightly so that she was leaning closer. “I know you think you push people away, but… you’re different with me. I can see it. And I think… I think you’re a good guy. I don’t know what you think of me, but I trust you. More than I trust anyone else right now.” She blinked, feeling her chest tighten with the weight of her confession. It was all a jumbled mess in her head, but the words spilled out anyway. She wasn’t sure what Leo felt about her, but she was certain of one thing—she cared about him more than she was ready to admit.

“You’re one of the few people I feel safe with,” she added softly, snuggling into him again. The words felt almost too raw, but they were true, and they needed to be said. As she rested against him again, she allowed herself to stay there, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her cheek, trying to quiet the chaos in her head. For now, she didn’t need to have all the answers. Just being with him, feeling him there, was enough.

[ambrosia-bng]

Ambrosia leaned her ear against the door to try to dissect noises from behind. It didn't sound like a weapon being loaded, though she wouldn't really imagine Ellie being that type of criminal. Also didn't seem like she could hear the multiple sounds of scurrying feet. Her eyes darted down to the few notes she had in the file. Hacker. Possible connections to The Hollow. Some may think so, especially with her skills.

She had to dot all her t's when it came to this. A breath sucked in through her teeth after she heard the voice from the other side of the door. Then the door opened, and she was face to face with the younger woman. Her brows lifted with slight curiosity, though her eyes were full of skepticism. "Just checking in as part of your parole, Miss Watson." Ambrosia murmured and gestured with her hand to the apartment behind her.

"Mind if I take a look inside?" Her weight shifted from one hip to the other , as she leaned to the side. "Not much going on, hm? What has been going on?" Ambrosia inquired as her eyes honed back onto Ellie.

Did she have a reason to feel disappointment?

[the-ellie-watson]

Ellie sighed, leaning against the doorframe, her arms folded across her chest. She had expected the visit, of course. It wasn’t like she could do much about it. Being on parole meant the constant checks, the surveillance that seemed more like an annoyance than anything else. But she wasn’t in the mood to argue about it, especially not with someone who had that cold, assessing look. “Yeah, nothing much going on,” Ellie muttered, trying to keep her tone light even though she felt like there was a weight pressing down on her chest. She stepped aside, opening the door wider for Ambrosia to come in, but not without a glance toward the officer. “You know I can’t really refuse, right?” she added, a touch of irritation creeping in. Not that she expected any sympathy. Ambrosia wasn’t the type to offer any.

Once the officer was inside, Ellie let the door close behind her. She avoided eye contact, keeping her distance. “Just… dealing with some stuff,” she said, not exactly lying, but certainly not giving anything away. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to pry too much into what had happened at the Manor of Hope Gala. The chaos, the fire, the people who were no longer with them—it was too much. And Ellie was still processing it, trying to make sense of the mess in her mind.

“Nothing illegal, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Ellie added, her voice soft but defensive. Her mind was far from calm, but she didn’t want Ambrosia to see that. She didn’t want to give the officer any reason to think she was falling apart. “I’m just trying to figure things out… you know, life stuff.” Ellie winced internally at her vague response, but it was the best she could offer at the moment. “Does it always feel like I’m under a microscope with you people?” Ellie added, trying to sound like she was joking, but the frustration in her voice was hard to hide. She knew she couldn’t stop the checks. She had learned that the hard way. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy for Ambrosia to see through the cracks in her carefully maintained walls.

[cfdeliicate-deactivated20260314]

Ellie was right. She didn't understand. Too focused on being jealous of her own sister, Gigi was never the one to look out for her as any other older sister would. Even now she kept failing Madison by choosing to ignore all the alarming signs and simply accepting the comfort the official cause of death provided. But Madison was brought up by the same cold-hearted woman as Gigi, taught how to hide her pain well. Ellie was different, distress was written all over her features and it pained Gigi. "You need to stop digging into it." She sighed, her voice soft but the words sharp. "For your own good." She meant it - physical and emotinal state alike. Some people were simply not designed to witness the cruel side of this world. "But I read the news. It sounds like a massacre. Were you there?" A hint of concern creeping at the end of the question.

[the-ellie-watson]

Ellie flinched at Gigi’s words, her arms wrapping around herself as if that could shield her from the weight of them. For your own good. As if letting Madison’s name fade into just another statistic was something she could stomach. As if she could walk away when the truth still clawed at her ribs, refusing to let her breathe. Her voice was quiet, but steady. “I can’t stop, Gigi. I won’t. Madison deserved better than this, and you know it.” She shook her head, frustration flickering through her features. “I don’t get how you can just… let it go. How you can be okay with leaving it as some gang casualty when you know that’s not what happened.”

The silence stretched between them before Ellie exhaled, slow and shaky. She lifted her gaze, hesitating only a moment before admitting, “I was there.” Her throat tightened. She hadn’t meant to say it like that, so bare, so exposed. But there was no taking it back now. “It wasn’t the fire that killed them.” Her fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeves, gripping tight. “Somebody took out the Family gang that night. And it wasn’t just some rival crew—this was something else. Something bigger. And now whoever did it is making threats against everyone.”

She swallowed hard, searching Gigi’s face. “You don’t understand because you never really saw her, did you? Too busy resenting her to notice what was happening. But I did. And I’m not letting this go.”

[isaganitan]

Four words settled in that chaotic storm of a mind of his. You missed a lot. Of course he had gotten some of the scoop, and his orders to chill out for now. Isagani was a curious sort naturally, so there was nothing wrong in his eyes prodding for some information. He tilted his head to the side with his brows lifting with an unspoken 'tell me more' fashion. "The less boring option is it's a little bit of both. Do you think we're all in danger or something?" Issy asked he started to splinter the cards against one another in his had mixing them up. "Have a seat at my dealing table." He snickered as he gently nudged out the seat across from him with his foot. "Let's see, do you have a favorite card game? I mean sure there's poker... but there's also speed, crazy eights, or war." He had all the time in the world.

[the-ellie-watson]

Ellie eyed the seat he nudged out, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Issy had a way of making everything feel lighter, like the weight of the world wasn’t as heavy when he was dealing the cards. She settled into the chair, rolling her shoulders back as if shaking off the tension she carried like a second skin. “Gin’s my favorite,” she admitted, reaching for the deck with an ease that came from years of playing, though there was an absentmindedness to her hands as she shuffled. “But I’ll play whatever, as long as you’re not a sore loser.”

She flicked him a glance, teasing, but her mind was already circling back to his first question. Do you think we’re all in danger? Her fingers stilled on the cards for half a second before she forced herself to keep moving, dealing out the hands. “I think danger’s always there,” she said finally, keeping her voice light, but something flickered in her eyes. “Just depends on whether we see it coming or not.” She tapped the deck, signaling for him to draw. “Your turn, Issy. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

[ambrosia-bng]

@the-ellie-watson

Ambrosia was running off of half a can of red bull and a Twizzler. She had questioned so many people about the Gala, and everything had seemed so far to lead to dead ends. Even the other detectives and police officers didn't seem to be getting much intel on what was happening. She couldn't leave it be, that was one of her faults. Say what they want about the police commissioner, but she could be relentless in her efforts.

Ambra's eyes glanced down at the last parolee she had on her list to check in on for today. She remembers the name well, and the ability to hack. Could Ellie be a part of this? Only one way to find out. The woman got in her car and drove to the last address on file. With a soft sigh, she walked up to the residence, and knocked on the door.

"Miss Watson? Police. Open up."

[the-ellie-watson]

Ellie was sitting cross-legged on her couch, the weight of the world on her shoulders but her gaze soft, distracted. She could hear the knock on the door, the sharpness of it pulling her out of her thoughts. She froze for a moment, then quickly stood up, smoothing out her clothes. Her heart skipped a beat—she knew exactly who it was. Ambrosia. She tried to brush away the nervous ache creeping up her spine. The last time Ambrosia had visited, things had been... complicated. The way she looked at Ellie, with a mix of concern and authority, always made Ellie feel like a fragile thing under a magnifying glass.

“Uh... coming!” Ellie called out, trying to sound calm, though her voice cracked a bit. She opened the door slowly, making sure to stand just a little behind it. When her eyes met Ambrosia’s, she could feel her stomach twist. “Hi, Officer... uh, Commissioner,” Ellie said, her voice small, but polite. She smiled, hoping to seem normal. But her hands fidgeted, twisting around the hem of her shirt, like they always did when she was nervous. “Everything’s... um, okay, right?” She glanced down, her breath shaky for a moment. “I don't really know anything about the Gala, if that’s what you're here for," Ellie added quickly, her words tumbling out, trying to be convincing but sounding almost like she was pleading. “I’ve been keeping to myself lately... not... not much going on.” She couldn’t meet Ambrosia’s eyes for too long. Instead, she focused on a little spot on the floor, trying not to let her anxiety get the best of her. There was that soft, familiar tug in her chest, reminding her that she wasn’t the easiest person to figure out. And she hated that Ambrosia always seemed to be the one trying.

[thewoundedveil-deactivated20250]

open starter @bloodnglorystart any bar

Gabriel sat at the corner of the dimly lit bar, his fingers wrapped tightly around a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid swirled lazily, the ice cubes clinking softly with each subtle movement of the glass. He wasn’t really paying attention to it, though. He was lost in a swirl of thoughts, none of them particularly pleasant. The world around him blurred in a haze of distraction, the muffled chatter of the bar's patrons, the low hum of music, all distant noises—just noise.

The will. The fucking will.

His father’s final decision, written in cold, sterile ink, felt like a slap in the face. He hadn’t expected it—at least, not like this. Not Luciano. Gabriel’s younger brother. That arrogant, naive, self-important little shit who had never shown a fraction of the discipline or the dedication that Gabriel had spent his whole life developing. It was supposed to be him. Gabriel had trained for this his entire life. He had worked for it, sacrificed for it. Countless hours spent honing his craft, perfecting every detail, every move, every choice, every little thing that could have brought him closer to the seat his father had occupied.

He'd given everything to this. Everything. And now?

Now Luciano was supposed to be the one to take the reins?

The absurdity of it gnawed at him, the weight of betrayal sinking deeper with each passing second. Gabriel was disciplined. He had earned this. He wasn’t just a son. He was the heir. But in that will, his father had cast him aside like an afterthought, as if all those years of sacrifice meant nothing. It was like he hadn’t even mattered. Gabriel’s jaw tightened, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the glass harder, the sharp sting of the ice pressing against the sides of his palm. It had to be some kind of mistake, right? It had to be a joke. His father had never once given any indication that it wouldn’t be Gabriel who took over. Not once. The man had always told him, always reassured him, that he would carry the legacy forward. But now, it was all slipping through his fingers.

A laugh—an awkward, bitter sound—escaped his lips, and he couldn’t tell if it was a laugh or a sob. He hadn’t even noticed the person at the bar next to him until they stared at him a tad too long. Gabriel set the glass down a little too forcefully, the slight thud resonating in the silence between them. His gaze never left the stranger’s face as he finally spoke again, his voice cutting through the bar's noise like a knife.

“Get lost. I’m drinking alone tonight.”

[the-ellie-watson]

Ellie hadn’t meant to stare, but she couldn’t help herself. There was something about the man at the bar, his posture rigid, his expression heavy, that tugged at her. Her heart, always too quick to empathize with others, couldn’t ignore the sorrow that seemed to weigh him down. She could see it in the way his hand gripped the glass, the tense set of his jaw. It reminded her of the times when she’d felt like the world was slipping through her fingers, like when she lost Madison. The part of her that was guarded wanted to walk away, to mind her own business and not get tangled up in a stranger’s mess. But the other part of her—the one that always put others before herself, the one that was always reaching out even when it hurt—couldn’t just leave him to suffer alone.

She took a hesitant step forward, her fingers nervously twisting the strap of her purse. She knew she was pushing it, stepping into something that wasn’t hers to fix, but the words slipped out before she could stop them. “I… I heard about what happened,” she said softly, her voice a little unsure but kind. She’d always been sensitive to the moods of others, even when she didn’t know them. She could feel the weight of his loss, the sting of his frustration in the air. “I’m really sorry… for your father. And for… the seat.” She winced as soon as the words left her mouth, her cheeks flushing a little. She hadn’t meant to bring up the board decision, but it seemed important. She hadn’t intended to pry, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed someone to hear him, even if it was just a stranger.

Ellie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling a little out of place but trying to mask it with a gentle smile. Her eyes were soft, offering him space, giving him the room to either shut her out or let her in. She wasn’t pushing, wasn’t trying to fix anything—she just didn’t want him to feel alone, not in this moment. "I don’t know you, but I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry." Her voice was quiet, almost like she was afraid that too many words might drown out the sincerity in them. The way he held himself, how deeply lost he seemed in his own thoughts—it reminded her of the times she’d felt trapped, too. And maybe, just maybe, he needed someone to see him.

[hauntedglances-deactivated20250]

Leo stood on the other side of the door, his hand resting lightly on the knob, as if he could just turn it and walk in. But he stopped himself. He’d been getting better at this—being considerate, or so his therapist liked to say. He didn’t want to rush in like he usually did, force his way through her walls. No, he was trying to do this right. But the truth was, he hated seeing her like this. “It’s me,” he said, his voice calm, even though there was a tightness in his chest. He could feel the weight of the situation, and more than that, he could feel the weight of his own feelings for her. They’d been there for a while, hidden in the back of his mind. But tonight, seeing her like this, all he wanted to do was protect her. "Ellie, I’m not gonna push my way in, but I’m not leaving until you talk to me." He paused, trying to find the right words. The last thing he wanted was to make things worse, but he couldn’t just walk away either. He wasn’t that guy.

[the-ellie-watson]

Ellie hesitated for a moment, her breath shaky as she held the door barely cracked. The weight of the night still hung heavy in the air, and her heart thudded uncomfortably in her chest. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for this, wasn’t sure if she could even face him right now. But there was something about Leo’s voice, steady, calm, that made her want to open up, even if it terrified her. She finally took a deep breath and slowly pulled the door open wider, her eyes flickering to his for a split second before quickly darting away. “Leo…,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, like she was afraid her own words might break her apart. She felt exposed, wrapped in a blanket like a fragile thing, but she stepped aside, letting him in. The warmth of his presence did little to ease the cold knot in her stomach.

She motioned for him to lock the door behind him, not because she was afraid of him, but because the idea of being alone out there again, outside her little apartment sanctuary, felt too much to bear. "Please..." Her voice was small, even though her heart was screaming. Once he locked the door, Ellie shuffled back to the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around her, feeling ridiculous but somehow needing its comfort. Her knees hugged to her chest as she sat down, the soft fabric of the blanket tangled around her, giving her some sense of protection. Her eyes, though, never quite met his. She wanted to say so much, but the words felt stuck in her throat, tangled with fear and guilt. She hated that she couldn’t just be strong enough for him. She didn’t want him to see how broken she was, especially after everything he’d done for her.

"I don’t know what happened... Leo, I thought I could handle it, but..." She stopped herself, shaking her head as if the thoughts in her head were too much to make sense of. She swallowed hard, trying to keep herself from falling apart. “It was just... too much.” She finally looked at him, her eyes wet with unshed tears, but there was a hint of something else there too—a vulnerability she rarely allowed to show. "I don’t know what to do. I’m scared." Her voice cracked, and she hated it, but the words slipped out before she could stop them.

[cfdeliicate-deactivated20260314]

Gigi liked Ellie. But she wouldn't say she knew her very well. She was sister's friend and whenever Madison's brought her along during one of the holidays, they were always inseperatable. The last time Gigi saw Ellie was at Madison's funeral but even then someone else managed to beat her at getting close to her girl, clinging at her side the entire time.

She was surprised when she got the call. Surprised Ellie even had her number but maybe Madison had given it to her at some point, in case something happened. Sitting across from her at the table, Gigi couldn't help but see Madison and her own failure at being the big sister she needed her to be. Tension settled in her body at the mention of her sister, yet she managed to push through and extended her hand a little further giving Ellie's a quick squeeze. "It's been tough on all of us."

[the-ellie-watson]

Ellie flinched at the contact, not because she didn’t appreciate it, but because she wasn’t used to it. Not anymore. She swallowed hard, staring down at where Gigi’s hand had been before curling her own into a fist in her lap. “You don’t understand,” she murmured, shaking her head. “It’s not just grief, or loss, or whatever people keep trying to say to make it easier.” Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to keep going, leaning in slightly, her eyes darting around the room. “Something is out there. And it’s not just targeting one crew—it’s all of them.” She hesitated, her fingers gripping the fabric of her sleeve, knuckles going white. “The fire at the gala? That wasn’t just chaos. It was a cover-up. A massacre.” Ellie exhaled sharply, looking up at Gigi at last, her gaze searching. Please believe me. She never had many friends, never had anyone to confide in, but maybe… maybe Gigi could be one. Maybe she’d listen.

[the-ellie-watson]

closed starter @hauntedglances // an internet cafe

Ellie sat on the edge of her couch, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them as if she could hold herself together by sheer force. The images from the gala kept flashing in her mind—the blood, the screams, the chaos. She had seen things before, sure. But nothing like that. It felt wrong, unnatural, the way it lingered in her head, the smell of death in her nose, the echo of the violence still ringing in her ears. She had known when she joined Echo that there would be danger, but this? This was something else entirely. She hadn’t left her apartment for days, only moving between the kitchen and bathroom, too terrified to step foot outside. The Hollow could be anywhere, and the thought of them coming for her made her stomach turn. She didn’t know who to trust. She didn’t even know if she could trust herself right now. The knock at the door made her jump, her heart racing as she scrambled off the couch. She stood frozen for a moment, staring at the door like it might open on its own. Her hands shook as she reached for the chain latch, locking it in place before peeking through the small gap. "Who’s there?" she called out, her voice shaky but determined.

[the-ellie-watson]

closed starter @cfdeliicate // an internet cafe

Ellie walked into the coffee shop, the familiar smell of brewed coffee and quiet chatter offering a slight comfort. She spotted Gigi at a corner table, her presence still so reminiscent of Madison, but with her own energy. It had been a while since Ellie had seen her, and though she wasn’t sure what to expect, the need for someone to talk to—someone who knew—was overwhelming. Ellie had been holding it all in for far too long, but today... today, she felt like she couldn’t keep quiet anymore. She made her way over, trying to breathe through the nerves that twisted in her chest. When she sat down across from Gigi, she forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Hey, Gigi. Thanks for meeting me," Ellie said, her voice soft, almost fragile. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the weight of the gala still heavy on her shoulders. "I—I don’t know if I’m even ready for this, but... I really need to talk about the gala. About Madison." She cleared her throat, her hands shaking slightly as she wrapped them around her coffee cup. "I know it’s been two years, but... I’m just not okay. I don’t know what to do with all these feelings."

[isaganitan]

Location: The Fresh Spin @bloodnglorystart Feel free to assume connections or dm me to plot!

The dryers whirled in a musical sync around him. The black card table opened in front of him. Some laundry folded to the left of him, a deck of cards in the center of the table. In his hands was the newspaper article published. Isagani read it with a quiet hum. One long leg crossed over the other. Ebony tresses in a slight disarray, however he was clean shaven. His face hidden behind the article that claimed his attention.

He heard when the other entered, but didn't comment until he could hear the footsteps get closer to him. "Seems I missed quite a bit." Issy's tone cryptic where he could be glad or disappointed that he had missed the gala. "I have dibs on the best dryer in this place, but I could relinquish it if you beat me in a hand." One finger pointed towards the deck of hards, with the tattoo'd letters of 'FU' clearly on the side. Paper set neatly down so he could face the other person more clearly, while he awaited their response.

[the-ellie-watson]

Ellie couldn’t help but grin at the sight of Isagani lounging in front of a dryer, newspaper in hand like it was a normal day, or, well, as normal as it got for him. She had never imagined she’d be so comfortable around someone like him, especially considering his, uh, line of work. But somehow, Isagani had a way of making everything feel less intimidating. She was still trying to shake off the chaos of the gala, the horrific events that kept replaying in her mind, but for now, she was just glad to be here, in the dimly lit laundromat, doing something so mundane. "You missed a lot," she said softly, her voice carrying just a hint of exhaustion as she set her bag down and began to pull out the laundry. Her smile was faint but genuine—she was trying to stay light, trying to keep from thinking about that night too much. “But, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not,” she added with a little chuckle, her eyes flicking to the cards. Her heart gave a small skip at the mention of a game. She wasn’t much of a gambler, but she liked the idea of doing something simple, something that didn’t remind her of what had happened. “Alright, I’m game,” Ellie said, her shyness slipping away just a bit in the familiar company. “I’ll take you on for that dryer. Can’t say no to a little friendly competition.”

[decnwindsor]

@bloodnglorystart

Location: Sunset Grill

Dean took pride in three things; his truck, his motorcycle, and his animals. Everything else in this world came second. He'd left his bike parked out front while he ducked into the grill for a quick bite, nothing more than a pit stop before getting back to work. The place was quieter than usual, just a few regualrs nursing drinks or finishing off their plates.

He sat at the bar, eating the last few fries on his plate when movement outside the window caught his attention. Someone was circling his bike. Letting out a strained sigh, more annoyed than anything, he slid a few bill onto the counter. "Be right back," He muttered to the waitress before pushing off the stool. Stepping outside, he came to a stop on the curb, boots planted firm, hands loose at his sides.

"You hit it or just admirin'?"

[the-ellie-watson]

Ellie froze when she heard the voice, her heart skipping a beat as she turned to face the man now standing by his motorcycle. Her eyes flicked back to the bike, which for some reason, felt a little too familiar. Had she seen it before? Her mind flashed to Sunset Grill, and Madison’s laugh. The thought made her stomach twist. She instantly felt a pang of guilt—Why was she staring at it so much?

She immediately regretted it. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” she stammered, her voice soft, almost apologetic. She stepped back awkwardly, her hands instinctively clasping together in front of her, fingers twisting nervously. Her gaze flickered from the bike back to the man, and she forced a shy smile, her cheeks flushing a little with the sudden attention. Is this weird? Is he going to think I’m some kind of creep? "I was just... I thought I recognized it. Sorry, it’s just, uh, it looks familiar, that’s all." Her voice was quiet, still a little unsure. Her thoughts kept darting back to Madison, like she saw signs in everything. The memory of her best friend lingered, sharp and painful. "Anyway, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable." She hoped he didn’t think she was being weird. Please don’t think I’m weird.

[disgustinggf]