NPC BLOG for the CODA rp

              the wallet that comes into view is held by a hand with bruised knuckles,    a redness that poorly fades against regular skin tone.   noah recognizes it immediately.    his chest relaxes for all but one second because the next his brain is realizing that the stranger handing it to him must’ve looked inside in their attempt to return it to its rightful owner.    everything is happening so quickly that noah doesn’t even have time to panic about the photograph, it becomes apparent that this stranger knows more than he should when he begins talking.

noah doesn’t think he has ever tried to hold an expression with as much strength as he’s currently using to keep from falling apart.    he wants to fall apart,   he feels a surge under his skin,   urging him to use force and break out in violence.   his blood is boiling,   his fingers shake when he takes his wallet back. 

the name clare doesn’t sound familiar,   and while it presses into his skull,   all he can think of are ben and harper and some stranger with them.   he feels dizzy.   he wants to throw up.   noah isn’t even sure if he can talk,   or if he can move any more than he already has without snapping.   

jesus,   how did it get this bad without anyone noticing ? 

he needs to force himself to talk.   noah feels like he’s taken a stab to the chest,   hearing the man speak made his ears feel like they’re bleeding,   but they need to see the end to this,   just a glance of it,    if they’re going to get back to ben and harper.   he has never felt such a desperate urge to save somebody.    he’s willing to die right here one-hundred times to make sure that they’re safe.    it seems that it’s too soon to die,   though.   there’s a party to go to,   which sounds a lot like dying anyway,   but it also looks like a glimpse of the end.    noah squeezes lena’s hand tightly. 

   “  would it be too much to ask,  ”    his voice is tight,   he knows it’s too much to ask.   they’re using ben and harper to force them into doing anything.   still,  noah thinks it’s worth getting information,   “   for one of us to decline this invitation ?    we don’t trust just anyone with our children,  ”    his eyes are icy cold,   nearly penetrating.   his hands are still shaking.   being forced to remain collected feels a lot like going insane.    “  our hiring process for babysitters is rather thorough,   you see.   ” 

the man reacts with limited emotion. something like a flicker of remorse or perhaps a flinch crosses his stoic features. but then he falls back into that statuesque and distant stare. there’s something lost about him, something hidden the eyes, like a child alone in a store after being separated from their parent. he seems to be searching the horizon for some point of tether. 

but he manages a simple smile and repeats, “she’s already sent over a fantastic babysitter.” the words ring exactly the same in every aspect of intonation and pace. as if they were rehearsed again and again until no distinction could be heard, “if you’ll come with me then,” he says, completely ignoring noah’s polite question about whether or not the offer could be declined. which in some way was an answer in itself. he holds a hand out, directing the couple to a door at the edge of the foyer. 

codename-fugue‌:

Brother? Ugh. Fantastic, more connections.

It’s probably a good thing that Mortimer’s busy thinking – it means that he gives no visible reaction when Mr and Mrs Jones are mentioned. No fake names used. It appears that shit has officially hit the fan. And Marion’s telling him this with a big friendly smile on her face.

Is Stone involved? They’re only here because they found his passport and the invitation, presuming that the host of the party, or at least a major benefactor, would be highly involved with the organization they’re tracking. All signs are currently pointing to Marion being… what? High up? A financier? The bloody leader?

“Believe me, a bunker has been a very tempting idea for the entirety of my working life,” he grumbles.

Damn it. They need to get on that plane. 

Mortimer cuts a glance over to Levi, knowing that Levi will be working through the exact same things he’s currently thinking. “Unless you’re going to give me some song and dance about unsecured areas and un-vetted personnel, I’d quite like to go.” Then, to Marion: “Admittedly, I detest air travel – which I suppose is ironic, given my profession – but it sounds like it’ll be worth it to see whatever you’re cooking up.”

@levimercer​

“I’m sure you have the whole song and dance memorized by now, Mr. Redford,” Levi says with a thin smile.

He gives Marion a sort of “what can you do?” look before straightening up a bit and setting his mostly full champagne flute on the tray of a passing waiter. His leg twinges but his face doesn’t flinch.

Things were happening and things were happening fast. This was where decisions were made in milliseconds behind smiles that could never falter.

She tosses her hair back and says, “Well then you and I might get along very well and very briefly. I’m quite fond of the idea of a quick conversation and then bunker life from there on out. I eagerly await the day that I can just avoid talking to others all together and just send everything through my computer.” 

“Amazing!” says Marion throwing her hands up in excitement. She begins to lead them down the hallway and through one of the doors to the restricted back halls. As they walk she chatters, “I didn’t like air travel until I got my own jet. It’s so much better when the staff is competent and there’s no silly tourists to ruin my day.” 

She leads them out to a final doorway, and in the back of the estate next to the docks there is a Learjet 23 waiting out on a tarmac. Two men in pilots uniforms are waiting by the staircase, “It’ll be a two hour flight and I’m afraid I have some calls to take. But Marshall, Stone, and the flight crew will be there to assist you. Lena, Noah, Henry, and Gregory should already have boarded!” 

klara was surprised how much information he was willing to give up to her. which meant he was not planning on her getting back to her team back downstairs to relay the information. she did her best to keep her face neutral as the information hit her. bu mention of her father did cause some emotions to cross her face. he knew her father, he was trained under him. this was not good. “doubt you’d be telling who the fuck you’re working for”

it had been some time since klara had gone up against another assassin. most of the targets were often some sort of fighters but not someone trained. and certainly, not someone trained from her father. what other tricks and ideas did they share in common. klara’s heartbeat picked up when he mentioned her friends were being taken care of. she couldn’t panic for them. they were all smart, they would have to take care of themselves because now she needed to focus. “i can promise you that i’m not going anywhere with you. i also promise you that if you try and touch me i will break you hand.” focus. he was bigger than her but she’d taken down bigger men before. she still had her knife. her skills. “come on then tough man. let’s go.”

stone chuckles. she’s a smart girl, not smart enough, but still she knows the routine - the dance. but she wanted to jump to the end, she thought she could snub him and be curt. but the dance wasn’t over yet. from inside his waistcoat pocket he pulls a small knife, the freshly sharpened metal glinting in the light. he flips it casually, feeling the perfectly balanced weight in his hand. “i work for miss clare. pretty much everyone here does. and everyone in mi6 and the cia. she runs. . .the world. and i am very very lucky because she gave me permission to do . . . whatever i want with you.” 

“and you’re not going anywhere just yet,” she says, looking down at his watch, “we have a flight to catch in an hour. i promise marion that i wouldn’t make you bleed to much. after all, the seats on the jet are imported leather. but that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun. after all, you don’t need your molars and with you gagged the bleeding won’t be a problem. you can just choke on it.”

he’s speaking like he’s running through the plans for a backyard barbecue not a torture session. there’s a smile creeping onto his expression, lopsided and unhinged: filled with a deep, sickening desire. he’s waited for this for a very long time.  “actually, klara, you’re going to sit down, shut up, and let me tie your hands.” 

the horror dawns on her face like a tidal wave. it doesn’t take more than four words to strike fear into her heart in a way that she thought she had left behind. lena believed that if she’d left the kids back in the safety of the little refuge with a trusted babysitter then maybe she could put it all out of her mind for just a week or two. not that she wanted to forget them, it was just easier to be a spy when there were less strings attached. but it’s not her worry or her horror that is important now. 

she looks him dead in the eyes, “we’ll find it. if no one took it it’ll be at the coat check. if someone took it…we’ll track them down. it’s going to be alright. we’ll get it back,” she assured, “coat check first, okay?” 

as if on cue a man in a sharp fitted suit steps into veiw, the wallet in his hand. he extends it towards noah, and offers a flicker of a smile. it is supposed to look polite but it seems forced. the expression on the man’s face is neutral and there is something hollow about his eyes. the faded traces of bruises around his throat are visible and his knuckles look like they are recently bloodied. but the injuries which are healing now don’t seem to impact his straight and strong posture. 

“mr. and mrs. jones,” he says, with a small bow, “i am glad i found you. this was on the floor and when i asked miss clare what to do she pointed you out to me. very fortunate that you have so many friends here or else i fear i never would have found you.” 

the words are jovial but the tone is thin and strained, as if he is a mouth piece speaking a stunted script, “miss clare also asked me to invite you to the after party. the jet is boarding in fifteen minutes. i understand you have children that may need to be tucked in, but she’s assured me she’s already sent over a fantastic babysitter.” 

Ah. That explains it.

“My apologies, I’m terrible with faces,” Mortimer apologizes, somehow managing to do so fairly smoothly. This entire situation is still throwing him off; he has no idea how to act around her, what to say, how much to say. Marion’s an independent hardware developer, so she claims, but Mortimer knows better than to take that at face value.

Besides, he really doesn’t enjoy the way she’s eyeing Levi like he’s a slab of prime beef.

Only Mortimer gets to look at him that way, thank you.

“My bodyguard,” he says, trying to keep it simple. He doesn’t want to use Levi’s real name, nor does he want to make one up on the spot. “Various Apollo engineers have been getting threats. Soviet based, mostly. The race to the moon has us all on edge.”

And then: “Sorry, after party?” Oh, god, he hadn’t known about that. Should he have known about that? “Er, yes, we’ll be staying.” For information gathering purposes, it might be vital. “What exactly will it entail? If it’s a demonstration of anything you’ve been working on, absolutely count me in.”

“That’s just fine,” she assures him, her smile never faltering. She’s not offended. After all, she was lying. If he did claim  to recognize her she would have to resist rolling her eyes. Plenty of people pretend to know who she is to earn her favor but Mortimer is refreshingly honest. Especially for a spy. 

“Ah I see,” she responds, putting on a facade of worry and dismay. In truth, she is delighted by the prospect that he might fear for his life. If he was being hunted then her offer of solace would be well received. It’s much easier to trap someone who is already on the run. “I’m glad you have a bodyguard but even so I am surprised you feel comfortable coming to a place with so many strangers. If it were me I’d just build myself a bunker and work until it’s all done.” 

“Oh yes!” she exclaims, laughing sharply as if she is surprised that she forgot to explain, “My brother is hosting an event over in Rome and we’re going to go watch the show! You and your bodyguard are invited. I know my attendant already helped Mr. and Mrs. Jones board the jet so if you choose to come you can fly with us!”

codename-fugue‌:

Levi’s got his thinking face on – it’s not obvious, and in fact looks like his regular face, but Mortimer can tell. Levi’s probably thinking up all sorts of plans, but Mortimer’s kind of stuck on please, miss, please take your hand off my arm, oh my god.

Finally, he draws his arm back, tucking it a little behind his side. There. That’s significantly better.

But then sets in the panic about exactly what photo she saw. Did he take a drunken photo at some point that he doesn’t remember? His memory is impeccable, except for when he gets drunk, then it’s a little shaky. But he’s fairly certain there’s no embarrassing photos out there – other than his CIA ID photo, which, yes, is terrible, courtesy of little sleep and grouchiness at the photographer.

“Oh, really? Let me guess, you’re either with Bells Labs or Fairchild. The self-aligned gate was an incredible breakthrough. We’re already integrating that technology into the Apollo program, it’ll be an enormous time saver.” It comes out slightly distracted, because… has she seen his CIA photo? How? “Er, I’m forgetting my manners. You know who I am, it seems. Miss…?”

He doesn’t offer his hand to shake. There’s been significantly too much touching already.

The more the woman talks the more unsettled Levi gets. He hides it well, obviously, but his drink is forgotten as his attention is acutely elsewhere.

There is only so much Levi knows about the fineries of Mortimer’s work, but it seems that whatever the woman is saying seems to pass his muster in terms of validity, so she certainly knew her stuff.

He arches an eyebrow slightly as he waits for the woman to properly introduce herself.

She lets out a little, mock embarrassed shriek, “Oh my goodness how rude of me! I’m Marion Clare, I’m the host of this party. I would have figured you would have known that. .  . seeing as you are a guest in my home at my party!” he laugh is sharp and pointed, another jab at their facade, “And I’m self-employed. I’ve never been much for following the orders of others. but it seems to have worked out pretty well for me!” 

She looks at Mortimer, her fake smile never flickering, and then glances up at Levi, “Mr. Redford would you be so kind as to introduce me properly to your plus one?” she says pretending she does not already know his name. Eyeing Levi up and down, her grin curling into something more genuine and sinister, “He is your  . . . chauffeur? Bodyguard, perhaps?” 

“I’m very glad to have you and all your friends joining us here tonight,” she purrs, “We do love a good underdog story. And more than that we love an after party. Will you be staying for the flight?” 

his words gave her some pause. “you knew my father i take it then. i certainly knew more sides to him than most.” her eyes searched his face, trying to remember him from the past. had he ever been around, had her father introduced them. maybe he looked familiar but she couldn’t say for sure. “who are you really?”

“i know very little, i’m not told too much by all of them. don’t think they fully trust an assassin. regardless if you think for one second i would just give away any information to you then you must not have done your research all too well.” if klara could just keep stalling this out then maybe one of her teammates would realize she was missing and would come looking for her, she was kicking herself for not telling any of them. of course, if the time came down to it she was ready to fight this man. luckily she had kept up with her training so she felt ready. but she knew there was a risk going up against this man. he clearly knew who she was, possibly had studied her and she had no idea who he was. no idea about his fighting style or anything like that. she would just have to make up for that disadvantage in the fight somehow. “in a few minutes my teammates are going to come rushing up here when i don’t come back down. i told them i would be quick, so they’re gonna know something is up. you can leave now or face an entire team in just a moment.”

“i knew him well, and before you even existed. thought of him like a father actually, and then he had to go and create you: his special pet project. i guess i wasn’t the prodigal son after all,” he sighs with mock wist, “i’m agent ajax, former assassin, former mi6. i would say my repuation proceeds me but my employers did diligent work to erase that reputation.” 

codanpc‌:

as the man finally stepped into the light klara knew she was dealing with the same man that lena saw. not only did he fit the description to a tee but there was something else about it, something that felt familiar. maybe it just was one assassin sniffing out another. but he was the one who played this right as he lead her right into his trap. klara could hear her father screaming at her in her ears. she had let her guard down, she was getting too soft, too curious. but she would have time to yell at herself later, right now she needed to focus on the problem at hand.

“very deadly if you are asking my father.” she said. if he knew her name and knew her father then he certainly knew about her death. and meant he knew what she was capable of, there could be no element of surprise here. “so you’ve got me in your little room. what now? i promise you whatever you are thinking of doing is not going to end well for you at all. just think about that.”

he expects her to be on her guard and be equipped with nothing short of a knife. if she had a gun she could only shoot him once in this small room before he got to her, and unless it was the perfect shot it wouldn’t be enough to take him down. the only thing he worries about is the window. she’d have to break the glass and fall two stories, but and exit was an exit. he kept himself close to it, barring the glass with his body.  

“i’d say you knew him better than i but that may not be the case. at the very least you knew him more recently than i,” he reasoned, shrugging casually, “ah klara, what an empty and vague threat. you’re better than that. and i just want to have a little chat. i want to know who all your friends are and why exactly they decided to torch the files room. sounds like you’ve fallen in with a crowd of rebel anarchists . . . or at least that’s the spin the official report will take.” 

codename-fugue‌:

Levi, of course, is Mr. Smooth. Mortimer’s been keeping half an eye on the amount of alcohol he’s consuming, even though he’s fully aware that Levi isn’t going to be stupid and mix pain medication with too much booze, but attempting to calculate precise blood alcohol content takes his mind off the dreadfully boring party.

But now his eye is drawn downward, where the woman has a hand on his arm. He can’t feel it, because she’s unknowingly targeted the right one, but–

Mortimer stares blankly. He can’t jerk away and make a scene. He has to be composed. Composure is very important here, no matter how much he can’t abide being touched by strangers.

“Um.” Oh, Christ, she knows who he is. “Thank you. I was particularly proud of the associative 16-deep lookup memory. Are you… into solid-state electronics?”

God. That sounded like a pick-up line! Abort! Abort!

“I’m surprised you recognize me.” It’s said through grit teeth. “I don’t exactly have a habit of allowing people to take photographs of me, much less publish them.”

There is not a single part of this that Levi likes.

Not the oily slick way the woman talks, not the way she knew exactly who Mortimer was, especially not the way her hand settled on Mortimer’s arm.

This is bad. Levi doesn’t know how bad, but his mind has begun to whir with contingencies.

His grip tightens minutely on his champagne flute and he takes a sip, pausing to see how the woman responds. Because how does she know Mort or, perhaps more importantly, how will she say she does?

‘Unknowingly’ targeting the right arm was not necessarily the case. Marion was tactical before all else and having read Mortimer’s file she knew more information on him than he would care to divulge. But she was playing dumb. . . at least in the sense of how much she was pretending to know him. Knowledge is power, but information purposefully withheld is even more so. 

She laughs again, smaller and lighter, a sound tinny and hollow. “I should hope that I’m in to solid state electronic. I do make my living creating prototype integrated circuits.” 

She can see the taller man seething with repressed anger and maybe even worry. Marion can’t help but genuinely beam at the thought of being in control. 

“I really wish I didn’t sound like a fangirl right now but I do have a habit of finding what people try to hide from me. My siblings never let me play hide and seek with them for exactly that reason,” she crooned, “And it was just the one photo. But I have to say it does not do you justice.” 

“You know I don’t normally frequent parties such as this. And I get the feeling neither do you.”

codename-fugue‌:

Mortimer very briefly runs through a panicked self-inventory: Levi’s got Stone’s stolen invite, and his own is a forgery. But it doesn’t have a name on it, he’s not pretending to be anybody specific, so why is this woman pretending to know him?

Oh, god. She’s not… flirting with him, is she?

“Er, yes. You… too.”

Probably not. She’s glaring at him, but smiling at the same time. Which is very confusing. And this is why he avoids human interaction.

“It’s  a lovely party,” Mortimer ventures. “We’re enjoying ourselves immensely, right?” He digs an elbow into Levi’s side.

“Yes, lovely party,” Levi says with a smile to match the stranger’s. The glass of champagne in his hand was half full and he’d been sipping it slowly, mindful of the pain meds he’d taken a couple of hours beforehand. “I’m sure with something as big as this there were bound to be some mishaps, but everything else is going smoothly, I hope?”

She laughs at Mortimer’s words throwing her head back joyously, her flaming red hair catching the light. It wasn’t even meant to be funny, she knew that, but she was trying her best to perform joviality. “Immensely? I’m so glad to hear that!” 

Her eyes turn to the other man, much taller and more intimidating. But she looks undaunted, her smile fixed on her face, “No mishaps at all thus far!” she said, “I mean the occasion drunk causing mayhem. But I bought extra ice sculptures just in case someone knocked one over. I’m ready for any eventuality. Otherwise, everyone is exactly where they are supposed to be.” 

She places a hand on Mortimer’s arm, “Really Mr. Redford, it’s such an honor to have such a brilliant mind here with us tonight. I have to admit, and this is a little embarrassing, one might consider me a geek for your MANIAC work.” 

panic started to set in as the room plunged further into darkness with the door closing behind her. klara’s heart raced as the realization of her mistake sunk in. but soon after the panic dissipated and her training kicked in. what she knew then. she was locked in a small room with one window. possible escapes out the window if possible and the door if she could get it open. something that didn’t make too much noise. did anyone from the team know she was here? unlikely. she had only told them she was looking around not exploring upstairs. what did she have? a small knife strapped to her upper leg. her mind continued to go through her checklist as she heard the barely audible sound of movement. the assassin swung her head around only to catch the final glimpse of a match going out. a man was also here in this room.

“you know i have heard that but i just couldn’t help myself. guess it’s just an old habit.” she said, her hands searching the wall behind her for the light switch but her eyes never leaving the shadowed man in front of her.

he steps out into the light, always a man for a dramatic reveal, he revels in the power of ambiguity and then the greater power of fear. she should know who he is if she’s been paying any attention. and he half-respects her for trailing him so well. he would have felt threatened if it weren’t for the fact that she was in his trap. he’dread her file so he knew her skills, but if she made a move and was successful in taking him down she’d still have to escape the building. and he had plenty of friends around that would notice his absence soon. maybe she had some of her friends here too. . .

He spends a lot of his time waiting in the dark corners of rooms. He is used to the darkness now, and likes the way it swallows him and makes him one with the walls. He admires the structure of oblique absence. He pushes themselves off the wall that he’s been leaning on, and lights a cigarette, the motion too quick to reveal his face. And now only the red embers glowing at the end are perceptible in the dark. But the moonlight form the window illuminates his legs, the light glinting off his new brogues. 

“Hello,” she greeted with a sweetness in her voice that was undermined by the severity of her eyes, “I’m so glad you were able to make it. I heard there might have been some complications with the invites. But it’s so good to see you!” 

“alro!” she smiled happily, reaching across to take his hand once again. “thank you. you don’t know how happy it would make me if i can find him.” small touch always seemed to go a very long way. “he’s very tall. broad shoulders. he has dark brown hair, similar to mine, that he always slicks back. let’s see….oh! well he always likes to dress in full suits. honestly he’s probably been alone most of the time. probably keep to himself and maybe he has requested housekeeping to stay away from his room.”

“ah, no i don’t think it would. he has this nasty habit of checking in around false names. so i doubt you would have any record of a mr.strom in there at all.” she told him. “perhaps i could describe him to you? maybe we can figure out what name he checked in under? i would appreciate more than you’d know”

her eyes watched him carefully as she waited to see how he would react to all the things she threw at him. it was important to get a base read on someone so she would know how to approach things from here. it seemed like mr.bright was a people pleaser, which should hopefully make things a little easier. “thank you.” she told him. “my brother has come and checked into this hotel it would have been somewhat recently. i am trying to find him, you see we’ve had this little…spat. and he’s been avoiding me and most of my family, it’s been rather difficult actually.”