Goddess of Peace

Eirene (/aɪˈriːniː/; Greek: Εἰρήνη, Ëirene, [eːrɛ́ːnɛː], lit. "Peace")

Past — Present (Profile) — Future (Plots)

“ you have ONE shot. ”

to say that jina is nervous would be a drastic understatement. somehow, despite the fact that she’s been with meia for nearly four years, there’s something so incredibly nervewracking about her first assignment as a senior. things had become real when the teams had been shuffled around and team sparrow had lost suhwan. they were officially the senior team, comprised entirely of seniors who were supposed to be able to take on the toughest of challenges. 

and suddenly, jina is second-guessing herself. had she been right in taking on this challenge? had it been the right time? she can only hope that she won’t be letting anybody down in this. there’s high standards to live up to, and that makes her nervous. 

so when she’s called to receive the first mission of her senior career, it’s with a solemn, serious face that she knocks politely on the door, coming face to face with someone that she had always admired but never been received warmly by. 

ahn hyejin, codename eirene. 

a senior agent long before jina had even been aware of meia. the older agent always exudes peace and calm, and is famous for always maintaining a cool mind no matter the situation. jina can only hope that she’ll be able to have that kind of composure as a senior agent — never mind that hyejin’s collected nature is at least in part a consequence of her enhancement, jina still thinks that the older agent is someone to look up to. 

“hello,” she greets hyejin politely. “agent eirene,” she says with a slightly hopeful tone in her voice, her shoulders relaxing just slightly. “i’m looking forward to working with you. will you brief me on the mission?”

Don't be fooled by the annoyance etched in her facial features. It wasn't personal. She has nothing against the younger; she prefers to work alone. And yet, Hyejin always ends up on teams. Probably to despite her. Or to guarantee the team's survival rate (99% of the time.) Her head dips in an ever-so-slight nod, acknowledging the polite and formal greeting of the other. Hyejin wastes no time. 

"Walk with me."

She passes Jina to exit through the doors, entering the third-floor halls. Her stride is steady and serene, as if she was a monarch in her past life. Her back is straight—never slouched. "There's an enemy in South Gate that has uncontrollable anger. We've been instructed to stop it." She was vague as they walked in public. "It's currently hiding in terrain that hasn't been scouted. I've been told distance is recommended. Which I assume is why—" she pauses, looking over her shoulder to glance at Jina. "It's a mission for two." She ends her sentence in discontent, fixing her gaze forward. "We leave immediately."

"From what we understand, he's newly turned. It's best if you keep your distance. He's attacking without discretion."

Another agent succumbs to its darkness—another agent that needs to be hushed. A mission that always lands in Hyejin's lap. She swipes her finger across the tablet. Her eyes scanned the intel; he's older, about forty, been with seaside for years, well-trained in close-combat martial arts, ruthless, destroying anything in sight, and currently terrorizing south gate. A level B territory that she hasn't thoroughly scouted yet.

"This…. It needs to be kept quiet—" "I know."

She placed the touchscreen device onto the wooden desk, reading what she needed. He could be a brother, a father, a good samaritan—whatever he may be—he must go missing confidentially. Nothing brings down morale faster than knowing agents are still being lured by enmity. They also don't want the agents with a hero complex to try and save him, especially when this demon shows much rage and anguish. Reticent, she can do that. When there's a shared silence, she acknowledges that as her exit. She stands, neatly pushing in her seat before turning her back to the higher rank. Her steps are light and poise as she heads towards the office door.

"And,"

She halts, her jaw tightening. An 'and' is always followed by inconvenience. She shifts to look over her shoulder, a dissent glare sent to the other.

"You'll be working with Ivy." ( @miajina )

mirror mirror on the wall—