— AD ASTRA

“That’s just brilliant!” Lena’s remark comes out more as a half-chocked pant, because both she and Cinna and the rest of their team are currently busy running for their lives to make it out of a cave that turned out to be a tomb that turned out to be riddled with tricks to ward off tomb raiders. We’re not exactly tomb raiders, Lena thinks as she dodges a spear sticking out of nowhere and tries to pump her legs faster, more like, illegal archaeologists. Not that this place would care.

“I was just about to say,” Lena murmurs, flashlight in hand as she moves through the hallway of one giant mansion in the Hamptons. Honestly this place is ridiculously huge, and she had been raised in another mansion of the hills of Rome. It’s like America takes normal sizes and then just fucking triples them in everything, from houses to food. But that’s not the hinky Salem, moving beside her with the same flashlight but also a knife she had been very clear she wanted nothing to do with, was referring to. It’s the silence.

     years spent travelling both before and during his time with the inquisitors, it’s woojin’s instinct to pack light. everything can be left behind in a rush, and less personal belongings mean that there will be fewer things to look back to. he hardly carries anything special on his own person, and if anyone asked, woojin would say he has no items that he puts any kind of value in. every single thing in his luggage can be replaced, and he would hardly bat an eye. the reality is, there’s just that storage room in jeju, one that his father moved everything into after he moved to another city. it’s wired to a fake account under a false name, but every little belonging that ties to him to his past is there. covered with dust, locked, abandoned. and as morbid as it sounds, it gives him a sense of ease, knowing that he can shift and change, fit into the position he needs to fit in. with fewer things anchoring him down, more flexibility comes with it.

    so, he guesses he’s one of the members that require the least amount of time to pack, especially since he doesn’t need much equipment to do his task within the team. with tech and weapon specialists, or even historians and linguists, he partly understands the need to have familiar equipment with them, so that things go smoother when they need to do their job. in his case, however, he finds getting weapons through customs too much of a burden, so he prefers to get whatever he needs when they land, usually through illegal means. having done this for quite some time, it’s quite easy to find what he is looking for, with necessary resources and enough money on his side. with the same mindset, he quickly packs for their tokyo and begins thinking about any of his former contacts that are still solid.

     the plane ride is long, and a bit tedious, but in the end, it feels nice to be at their new hq. everyone goes off to do their own thing, and woojin unpacks quickly, taking his laptop and phone before leaving the room to see how everyone is doing. it’s not the biggest hq they had, but still a miracle by tokyo’s standards. he remembers staying there almost a decade before, in a twenty square meter studio apartment, so, in comparison, this is luxurious. and that much they deserve, for the amount of work they are about to do. plus, he has the inkling that everyone would start complaining if there were fewer rooms in the hq. glad for bochica’s skills, he picks up another task. wanting to see how everyone is faring, woojin takes his laptop under his arm and walks through the corridors, first the training room and then stopping to see the alotted gear room. it’s a bit surprising to see many of them have already unpacked; papers, books and anything of the sort are thrown on the tables; much, much messier than he would have liked. others must have been doing their own thing, because the linguist is the only occupant in the room, and such, the only person woojin could chide for being so messy.

    the moment he walks in, he promptly trips on a suitcase, pushing it a few centimetres ahead, he straightens up quickly, but there’s a bit of a ruckus that comes from it, and before he can open his mouth to say anything, lena’s exclamation reaches his ears. he doesn’t mean to frown, not entirely, but words leave his mouth before he can even think. “with how messy this place is — that’s no surprise. it’s like a hazardous zone. how the hell did it get so messy so quickly ?” he discards his laptop on a nearby chair, and kneels to close the suitcase shut, pushing it to the wall so no one else can trip anytime soon. “i really can’t understand sometimes —” there’s a tirade that’s soon to follow, but he settles with clearing out the floor first. “please tell me you have finished unpacking. otherwise i have the feeling we might need to bunk more people together —”

Ah, of course. I knew there was no way I was going to unpack without someone reminding me how messy I am. When Lena hears Gin’s voice, she almost even smiles. No mission was a real mission if the strategist didn’t somehow find a way to scold her for the way she organised her working space. So she turns, grammar manual still in her hand, where she had caught it before it could land on her foot, and said, “I’d like to point out that this space isn’t only full of linguists’ gear, Your Honor”. When she smiled after that sentence it was with her tongue bitten between her teeth, a sort of cheekier smile than her usual one, because hey, working in my mess is what makes my work great. It’s quintessential part to the success of our missions.

“Don’t worry, Gin, I’m pretty much done. Jasper has something more, I think, but no big dictionaries. Those were all in my luggage,” Lena says, turning back to put the manual back on its stack. “Because of course, who better to lift a forty kilos suitcase of books than me, who has the same arm strength of a canary?” Okay, maybe that was stretching it a bit. She does have arm strength or she wouldn’t have been able to keep up with the other Inquisitors. Still, some drama added flavour to life, especially if it was in a conversation with Gin.

“Okay, but I didn’t spend all that time going on jogs if we were not going to end up running for our lives. After last time,” his eyes glazed over as they narrowed, staring at no particular spot on the plain wall. “I hope that I won’t need someone else to save me, if you know what I mean. I’d rather be able to get out of a tight spot myself. But I understand. Maybe, if we are lucky, and I mean, maybe luck is a bad word- I mean if we work hard and have a cohesive plan where everything magically falls into place…” He paused, because the likelihood was low. “Okay, I’m just hoping we all make it out with all the pieces that we need. It’s funny how an auction hall can seem just daunting as the other task. I was never good with my money. Dad had to coach it into me to spend wisely. Be thrifty.”

Jasper pursed at his lips, nodding in agreement. “I never managed to learn much Thai, which is too bad. It’s so lovely there. I like anywhere that’s warm, in both their people and the climate. Mmm. It’s raining a lot back home right now,” good old damp British Columbia autumn season was creeping up on him, and there was no better time for him to escape over the ocean.

“Don’t be nervous. I’ll keep you distracted until we have to go on our respective missions,” the corners of his eyes creased as he smiled fondly at Lena. The two of them had gotten along very well the more they worked together and now it was nearly automatic, the way he could respond to her. Something about them just jived, and while Jasper was unsure how long his career would last with the Inquisitors, he could gladly say that he was very glad to have met Lena. “Although, I’m only saying that to make you feel better because the butterflies in my stomach are so wild, you can probably hear them right now.” He paused for dramatic effect, “See?” What a kid.

“Though I suppose if you say you’re nervous, I do still want to ask. It gets easier with one mission, right? Sometimes I look at the others, and it’s like, wow, their nature to slip into this stealthy mode. But I mean, we all play a different part. I’d like to think that our part is very important too, you know?”

“Yeah but Jasper, exercising it’s the worst,” Lena said, smile on her face and exaggerated whining in her tone. “I know it keeps you healthy but at what cost?” She continued, finishing a reference to a TV series she didn’t even follow consistently. It does sum up my thoughts exactly. “I mean, I get my workout done when I lift these bad boys,” she added, patting the stack of dictionaries on the desk. Then she remembered all the sparring sessions with Salem and all the bruises she had gotten out of those and sort of cringed internally, shrugging the thought away. At least until the next session.

“But as you say, it does help when we run for our lives. Which we never plan to do but always without failing we always end up doing,” Lena declared. After four years with the team, she couldn’t remember a single time when things had gone completely smoothly and quietly and according to plan. Then again, it happens when you operate illegally, I suppose. “I hope we won’t have to do any of that at the auction hall at least,” she mused, going off of Jasper’s own comment about the auction. “And I hope we don’t have to do any actual auctioning as well, leave that to the strategists.”

lena snuggled closer and camille couldn’t help the way the way the smile on his face widened, his very being made light by the presence of lena, the nickname she called him not helping matters. her confidence drew out a chuckle from him and he felt himself slowly relaxing in their shared room, basking in her warmth. although he himself was somewhat linguistically inclined, he didn’t have the mastery over the same number of languages that lena had. the younger woman seemed to pick up languages as easily as she breathed, absorbing the smorgasbord of languages that the international character of their team exposed her to. already, she picked up korean, chinese, japanese, arabic, and still so many more; camille couldn’t keep up with her, obsessed as he was with returning to his classical texts instead of picking up new ones, and he didn’t feel any shame in admitting that. on the contrary, it made him all the more adore her and her drive and her passion to learn.

“wanna bet?” he asked jokingly. n2 might be pushing it, but he knew that if anyone can do it, lena can. “i’ll treat you to as many rounds of drinks as you want if you actually get to n2 before the mission’s over, so you better be spinning circles around me in japanese by the very last day of this mission, darling.” a chuckle managed to slip past his lips, although it was more at the idea of himself being befuddled by the sounds of japanese than anything else. in any case, the offer was made honestly: a language added to lena’s arsenal was worthy of a celebration indeed—especially when done under such restrictive time limits—and he had no qualms in effectively being the financier of such a celebration.

at the sound of lena’s question, his smile took on a more mischievous spirit, the glint in his eye unmistakably impish. “the japanese took one look at what was inside my suitcases and promptly thought that i must be a high-class smuggler,” said camille, knocking his knee with lena’s. “it was probably all the antiques i picked up throughout our travels. i’m sure they had half a mind to arrest me then and there. you know i’ve never been inside a jail cell before? it did make the whole idea tempting to go along with, just so i can say i finally have been in a cell, but i soon realised that the whole affair would be a nuisance to the team so i changed my mind about that pretty quickly.” he genuinely sounded sad that he didn’t manage to land himself in prison and, as if to complete the picture, camille let out a melodramatic sigh. “i managed to charm them out of it after a good while,” he continued, his hand reaching out to caress lena’s hair; he loved her hair, although he loved every part of her so maybe he was a bit biased. her hair, however, was accorded special attention—soft and wavy and luxurious as it was, how could it not? “trade secrets, darling,” he said. “i’ll ask you what makes your hair so fine but i don’t think anything you say would help me, so fair’s fair: i stay impeccable after a twelve-hour flight, and your hair was, is, and will always be beautiful no matter what.” a nudge from camille’s elbow to lena’s sides, as if to signal an inside joke only they were privy to. “we’re peas in a pod, you and i,” he said, before turning over. he laid down flat on his stomach and propped up his head on his hands, his elbows resting on the bed. “say, what do you think about this whole yamatai affair, my dearest lena?”

Lena felt her eyes roll all the way back to get a nice look at her brain and then out again when she heard the not-so-masked sadness in Camille’s words. “Anata ga jissai ni Nihon no keimusho ni tojikome rareta to wa omowanakatta to oshietekudasai,” she answered, in Japanese because why not? The aim was N2, after all. Please tell me you didn’t really consider getting locked up in a Japanese prison. Then again, knowing Camille, her beautiful and wild and free Camille, Lena knew that it was probably exactly like that. “I mean, you do look the part of a high-class smuggler,” she added, a pointed look going down to where her sweatpants met his elegant suit. “And you also do look fantastic in it, as always,” she continued, because Lena firmly believed paying compliments was one of life’s greatest pleasures, especially if Camille was the person they were being paid to.

When she heard Camille’s comment about her hair she chuckled, just as he was shuffling to make himself more comfortable on the bed, and also blushed a bit— because that’s just what Lena did. Compliment her brain? She’d answer with a self-assured smirk and all the Slytherin attitude she could muster. Compliment her looks? A puddle on the floor. Or in this case, a puddle at Camille’s side. “Fine then,” she agreed. “Let’s both keep our secrets and make each other glow,” she added, in a high-and-mighty tone and then bursting into laughter immediately after.

Laughter which quieted down calmly when Camille’s next question reached her ears. “I’ll be very honest, gioia,” she said, sinking down a bit further on the bed so that her head was resting comfortably on her pillows. “The idea of going to the auction terrifies me because a) I don’t think I’ve walked in fancy shoes and dress since that mission in Montecarlo two years ago and b) because my people skills are still m.i.a. when it’s not someone from the team.”

“But if it’s the price I’ll have to pay to get closer to Yamatai-koku,” she continued, her eyes twinkling this time, and a familiar excitement taking control of her stomach, the same feeling she had when the whole team finally opened a long sought-after tomb or admired an artefact they had fought their way through hell to obtain. “Then it’s okay. I really missed this, the exploring part of our job, you know?”

“Sorry–” The overly-used phrase slipped out of his mouth, despite the fact that there was no casualty. But he has certainly dropped things on himself before and he’d rather not repeat the experience. Then again, keeping him off the field for the quick hitting tasks was probably the best. This mission had sounded calm enough. But it usually starts off that way, before either derailing by a domino effect of events, or some sort of trigger. Whether physical or figurative, Jasper mused. “I see you’ve already had time to settle in, considering the table was empty a few minutes ago. You didn’t take long.”

He had kept his luggage in his room for now, too exhausted to begin the prep, but now seeing Lena begin arrangements and sifting through books right after arrival had him feeling a tad guilty considering he’d likely lounged around for longer that he was willing to admit. “I was hoping to get a start on this tomorrow, but I can’t even use jet lag as an excuse. I slept the whole way here.”

Sidling up to where some of the large dictionaries lay, the younger man flipped through them. Ah, too familiar were these pages, albeit in a different dictionary. Technically, they were all so similar, different editions missing a handful of words that might come up crucial in other times. There was so much cross-relation between the languages, but the benefit of knowing both Chinese and Japanese was that even if he couldn’t remember the pronunciation of a specific kanji at times, the figure itself would come to his savior. Context clues. How he wished he was a prodigy with an eidetic memory, but there was no point in wishing for things that would never occur.

“It’s good to see you again. Hope there will be actual time for breathing and the whole,” he rubbed at his temples, preparation for what was to come, “show to get on and going. I still get so antsy. Honestly, I am extremely glad that I was not the only linguist they brought on board. Things are much better with a partner in crime, no? I was always terrible at katakana,” Jasper mumbled as his eyes narrowed in the jagged alphabet. “Hiragana is so much…. rounder. Cuter. Can I call a language cute? Well, it is cute. Anyway, I’m getting off topic,” the latter part mumbled more to himself under his breath, despite Lena being in earshot. 

“Wondering if you or I will get the auction. Do you have a preference on the assignment? We can always toss a coin,” Jasper laughed lightly. The truth was, the strategists would likely assign them for what personalities and roles they fit best, and he would rarely speak up against that. 

Lena’s face broke into a wide smile when she saw that it was Jasper who had entered the room. She had missed the other linguist’s face in the last couple of weeks, she had missed being in the same headquarters as him and working with him on a daily basis. She nodded as she heard him say he hoped they could have some time spent not exactly working on the mission. “I’d love to have the some time to like, not work on figuring out a way not to die in some cursed tomb or stuff like that, yeah,” she commented. Their missions always started quietly and ended with them running for their live, so by now she had a pretty clear idea of how their Tokyo mission was going to go like.

When Jasper started to go off about katakana and hiragana, Lena’s smile turned softer, fonder. She really had missed him, the way his mind worked and the unique point of views he always came up with. It was refreshing always and illuminating often, and it was one of the first things Lena had loved about him when he had showed up in the linguists’ office when he joined the Inquisitors. So she pondered for a second and the declared: “Hiragana is definitely cute, but I still think Korean is the cutest. Besides Thai, of course.”

camille had been held up in the customs office. apparently, the items he’d declared—which consisted of little knick-knacks he’d collected over the years during his travels with the inquisitors, his small treasury of high-end toiletry products because of course he’d always take the chance to spoil himself, and the few bottles of philosykos that he wore as a perfume—had apparently made him look like some sort of smuggler or something of the sort. it took longer than it needed to, but he eventually convinced them that no, he was not some kind of international bandit but rather just a harmless, if a bit over-dressed, world traveller. the many stamps on his passport (made by the ever-brilliant theo) attested to the fact, at the very least; and they deigned him safe enough to be let go.

he eventually got to the hq, scarf billowing out of him as he walked briskly through its halls, bespoke italian dress shoes making clicks on the floor, as if to announce his presence. it was a late hour, because he’d made a detout to the post office on top of the whole hold-up at customs. (since he was going to be late anyway, what was a couple of moments more?) he reserved a po box under the fake name theo gave him and promptly sent out a post card to his mother, signing only his name and his location and nothing much else.

finally—finally—he reached the room where lena had stayed. it had been an unspoken thing, but lena and him had always roomed together and he couldn’t think of anyone else sharing his space now. he was so excited to see her, as if they’d been separated for a couple of months instead of a couple of hours, that he barged through the room with his suitcase, unceremoniously pushing it to the side, removing his blue scarf and throwing it to the other empty bed as if to mark his territory, before flopping himself down besides lena. “i think you messed up the last kanji, darling,” camille said, his voice almost a coo, “although i take all responsibility for that flaw.” a pause, then: “you know i’m trying to teach myself japanese as well? i’m trying to get tenjin’s help to kickstart the process since i’ve been putting it off for so long, but i think i’ll just learn it with you instead.” he smiled at lena, his features soft at his dearest friend among the inquisitors. “reckon we can get to the n4 level before the mission’s done and we jet off to somewhere else?”

Lena scoffed in fake-outrage as soon as Camille’s words left his mouth, turning to get a better look at him and already unconsciously snuggling a bit closer to him. “Honestly, N4? You offend me. We can get at the very least to N2,” she declared, puffing her chest out. Like a pharaoh chicken, her grandfather used to say. Then Lena’s eyes fell down to her wobbly “ai” kanji and she clicked her tongue— well, maybe N2 was pushing it. She still laughed, though, shrugging off the thought.

“It’s alright, gioia, I’ll have plenty of time to practice my Japanese with Jasper during this entire mission,” she said, emphasising the ‘entire’ by stretching out the i-sound. She turned to put back the notebook and marker on the bedside table and then adjusted on the bed, locking her sweats-clad legs with Camille’s finely suited ones. Her gioia, her joy. He had disappeared from her sight at the airport and she had to admit she was a bit worried. But then again, this was Camille, and so she had absolutely no qualms whatsoever in asking where the hell he had been.

And so she did just that. “Where the hell have you been, Cam?” Her tone was soft, though, as she took in his elegant and always perfect clothes and hair and face. She cringed at the thought of just how much of a gremlin she had been when she disembarked her flight and for the one-hundredth time since she had met him she wondered how Camille managed to do it. My theory on him being an actual son of Aphrodite is still valid. “And most importantly, how did you not ruin your suit during twelve hours of intercontinental flight? I’d ask you to teach me your secrets but I think they only work on you.”

LOCATION: living room, london hq STATUS: open

adrenaline rushes through theo’s veins at the sight of another letter from iuppiter, fingers gripping at furled edges of the sheet of paper as he tries to sear every name and detail of their new mission into his brain. he was the first to snatch their new instructions out of the strategist’s hand, a list of responsibilities quickly forming itself in the back of his head, ranging from most to least urgent.

now let theo also be the first one to tell you it’s not easy to book a last minute flight for 12 people. they would have to leave tomorrow afternoon at the latest and there was no way he was going to fit all of them on the same plane. from a logistic point of view it was simply impossible, so they would have to fly with at least two different companies and even then a few of them, himself excluding if he was going to be stuck on an intercontinental flight for 10+ hours, would have to fly economy, something not everyone would take as kindly to.

his fellow inquisitors’ malcontent was the least of theo’s worries, however, a part of the nerves that was rushing through his veins at that moment originating from the fact that he was going home. or close to home at least. too close to his mother and the enemies he made over the years.

he pushes the thought away for now though considering there are more pressing things at hand, the korean that flows from his lips sounding rushed and coy as theo traps the phone in the crook his neck. in the meantime, his hands are in the process of flipping over the couch cushions in search of the slipper that would match his left one.

“aish-” the cuss slips from underneath theo’s breath, frustrated for one because he seemingly wasn’t able to find that damn slipper, as well as the man on the other end of the line being rather uncooperative.

“sure, you can expect a call from me in the morning.” it sounds more like a warning than a promise, one that even those who don’t speak his native tongue should be able to understand. theo ends the call soon after that, another string of offensive words falling out of his mouth as he drops to his knees and lights up the space underneath the couch with the flashlight of his phone.

Lena had followed Theo back to one of the rooms of their headquarters that had been declared “meeting and gear rooms” with somewhat of a heavy step. It’d not that she hated him, not at all, but she was uneasy around him and would have rather preferred not asking the favor she was about to ask. Well, it’s not a favor. It’s for the mission, it’s not like I’m carrying fifty pairs of shoes with me in the extra-suitcase.

She walked right up to the meeting room in time to hear Theo end a call in what is very much Korean, but so quick Lena hasn’t really time to switch her brain into Korean mode and get what he’s saying. Then again, it didn’t sound like Theo was having a cheerful conversation, so it’s definitely better that way. Lena stepped in, knocking gently on the door to announce her presence, only to find Theo on the floor looking under the couch with the help of his phone’s flashlight. Well. Okay then. Then she saw that he had only one of his slippers on, and the pieces clicked.

“If you’re looking for the other one, it’s under that armchair,” she said, pointing at the old and worn out armchair everyone would fight over during meetings. Under its broken down pillow there was just the heel of what looked very much like the match to the slipper Theo was wearing. And before she could doubt herself again, she also added. “I also need to speak to you about flight and luggage.”

Lena sent out the short message to her mother, assuring her that she was fine and would be m.i.a. for a while. Of course, she couldn’t really tell her mother what she was doing or even where she was, but Victoria Hammer didn’t ask, and Lena limited herself to a sweet goodnight message that would let her and her grandparents know what she was okay and thinking about them. And with that, she switched on night more and put her phone down. She should really have laid down and closed her eyes, but her mind was too active to allow her to fall asleep just yet.

So she turned and grabbed the notebook that was on her bedside table, along with a soft-tip marker. She didn’t really know what the team was going to recover, what kind of work she would have had to do from a linguistic point of view, and so she simply started tracing kanji, calling them up from memory— she drew the modern version and then its variations, one after the other, older and older as she moved rightwards on the page. Water, moon, man, woman, queen, tree, fire, sun, and so on. The simple exercise lulled her into a mechanical routine that sort of calmed her brain and her ever-present mixture of anxiety and excitement over the start of a new mission.

She was in the middle of the kanji for “love” when the door bursted open, revealing Camille coming to claim his spot on the other bed at Lena’s left. The sudden noise made her kanji turn out a bit wobbly, but Lena smiled anyways— now that she thought about it, there wasn’t a single mission during which she and Camille had not been roomies. It was a nice thought.

Lena stepped into the softly lit kitchen with bags under her eyes and a tiredness that seemed to come straight from her bones, even after the cold shower she had just taken. She didn’t usually pay a lot of attention to skincare on a mission, because well, mission, but she did try to take good care of her face at least the first night— whether it was actually helpful or she just thought it so, it slightly bettered her jet lag and made her feel more awake the next day, no matter how many timezones she had just crossed. And unlike last mission, this time she had actually remembered to pack her favorite sweatpants and largest t-shirt, as well as a soft and massive knit cardigan to drown in. Saying she felt great would have been an understatement, but with her hair tied up in a crown braid around her head at least she didn’t feel gross. After more than ten hours of flight, I count it as a massive victory.

Lena walked to the counter, eying the electric kettle resting on top of it. She filled it up and put it on, and then looked around the cabinets for a couple of mugs. Iris was probably still taking a shower or unpacking her suitcase, but she would show up soon enough for their usual evening chat— it didn’t really matter in which part of the world they were, some traditions were never broken. After she got a hold of two mugs, she fished a box of relaxing lavender and rose tea out of her cardigan’s massive pockets and put one sachet in each mug, pouring the boiling water from the kettle on it. There. Might not be fancy, but it’s warm and calming and nice.  

Lena brought the two mugs on the table and plopped down on one of the chairs, immediately pulling up her bare feet under her legs to keep them warm. Her hand sank in the same pocket for a couple of packets of green tea Kit Kats she had gotten at the airport’s arrival terminal, opened one and chewed with her hands wrapped tightly about the warm mug, waiting for Iris. They definitely had a lot to talk about.

Lena hauled one of her two suitcases into the biggest of the bedrooms, the one that had been declared the gear room— and as soon as she stepped in, she sent a prayers up to whatever ancient god was watching over them, because there was a desk that was still free. How the hell did anyone manage to claim space so fast, honestly? If she looked around, she could already see a wide array of weapons, blueprints, papers, computers, even a stethoscope. A part of her sighed, knowing fully well she was going to add to the mess in five seconds flat, but the other (the most prominent, really) was feeling excited and giddy— rest in London had been great but being on a mission felt even better. A whole new mystery to unpack and new things to study and work out as a team. Together with gaining new knowledge, working with the rest of the Inquisitors was the aspect Lena loved more about her job— and apparently her grandfather did too. 

The thought made her smile as she wheeled the suitcase close to the clean desk, laid it flat down on one side and zipped it open— and then started taking her books and dictionaries and grammar manuals out. While she did know how to find her way around an ancient text at first sight, she would need her books to get the true and correct meaning of whatever they were going to find. Better some extra kilos at the airport than a wrong translation that leads us all to being trapped in some tomb forever or something cheery like that. A couple of Japanese and Chinese dictionaries went up on the desk, followed by manuals on language variations throughout the centuries, grammar of the languages’ old, classical versions. And then computers, notebooks, papers of previous research she had done in the field of Japan and China and Eastern Asia. Essentially, everything she needed to have a successful mission, at least from a linguistic point of view.

As she kicked the suitcase away and set out to pile her gear (how funny was it, to call her books “gear”? Then again, they were), her jewellery tingling and her bare feet moving on the warm wooden floor, she tried not to think about the fact that they were all going out in the field this time around. It’s not that Lena didn’t like being out on missions, but she always feared her anxiety would get the better of her and somehow spectacularly fuck everything up. And then the thought of the auction— somehow, she smelled “fancy dress” coming up and the idea of leaving her comfy jeans and boots behind suddenly felt more terrible than the possibility of being trapped in a tomb forever.

Lost as she was in her own head, she heard someone coming in only when papers on the other desks rustled, almost causing her to drop a heavy tome on kanji history on her foot. Lena caught it at the last moment, bending forward with her loose hair swooping in around her face, and sighed. “Well, a broken foot would have been a terrific start of the mission, but I think I’ll pass this time!” She exclaimed, laughing lightly at the thought the way you laugh at the idea of losing the grip on your phone while on top of the Tour Eiffel.

lena grew up with cats— two, to be specific, named repubblica and costituzione ( republic and constitution). their names were chosen by her father because irony is cruel like that. they were two old females, both of them, who would flop down on lena’s belly when she studied during her high school days or would knit her pant leg when she was watching television on weekends. her grandfather also had one, seneca (of course), whose favorite sleeping spot was on top of the old latin dictionary giulio stelmaria used to still sort though every once in a while. giulio stelmaria is also the person who took in repubblica and costituzione when lena and her mother moved to washington d.c. so lena is a cat person (she’s actually a bit scared of dogs, acts uneasy around them) and would love to own one herself, even though she knows that it’s quite impossible with her current lifestyle and occupation

although she’s quiet and observant and doesn’t speak up often, lena is incredibly foul-mouthed. she talks like a sailor in at least five different languages, including two dead ones, and loves how swear words fill her mouth and give her momentarily relief from whatever is frustrating her at the moment. but she also uses them just because, as it’s normal to do so in italy, to punctuate a story or make her point come across way better. she tries to keep it down in work and professional occasions, but if you hang out with her for some time she’ll unleash it all quickly enough

another thing you wouldn’t expect when you first see her— she’s messy. the way she keeps her hair, wild and long around her head, might be a clue of it, but in truth there’s no preparing for the massive level of fucked up her work station is. her mess has a system, of course, color codes and stacks on her desk, but it’s still a mess to most people. how she gets anything done is a mystery

lena is a legacy, although not a very direct one. her grandfather, giulio stelmaria, was a member of the inquisitors as well, a linguist just like her, before he retired when his precious and only grand-daughter was born. lena lives her life trying to follow his example, since his grandfather was probably the most important male figure in her life because who can consider her fucked up, power abusing and corrupt politician of a father a cardinal figure in her upbringing?

just like her grandfather passed onto her his passion and talent for ancient languages, he also shared with lena his love for the sky. lena loves very few things as much as she loves stars and space, and she has made the philosophy of the stars her own— as well as a permanent design on her skin