Multiple Occupancy

𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎 & 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐌 @multipleoccupancy

"Amen to that," Salem replied, raising her cup of espresso like Father Lorenzo. She briefly wondered if he would be offered by her saying Amen, like that. While she was religious, and still went to Church every week, she was no longer a young girl scared of the preacher in her town. Or so she thought, at least.

He playfully corrected her, and she laughed. "When you put it like that, it doesn't sound all that exciting anymore." And yet, she still kind of wanted to try. Salem was a reckless woman, she supposed. But she had a dangerous job. Two dangerous jobs, really! In her mind, the mission always came first. Risks had to be taken. So, Salem believed that if she was going to do risky things, she might as well enjoy doing them.

Father Lorenzo was right to believe that Delta Green was so secretive the organization did not even share information with its own agents. But Salem didn't mind. Classified information was often classified for a reason. She was a good little soldier. She went where Delta Green told her to go. Did what they told her to do. Killed who they told her to kill. In a way, she was a weapon. A precise, deadly weapon. Weapons didn't ask questions.

And so, Salem didn't really know if monsters had begun appearing more and more in the past years. "Have you noticed that?" she asked, leaning forward. "An increase of paranormal phenomenons?"

"Scusa, I have broken the illusione." He chuckled for his own description of high-jacking a gaunt mid-flight. He'd do it again in a heartbeat though as he was sure Salem would too, from what he had seen she tried to protect the innocent but he was not so blind as to believe that whatever shady organisation she was working for did not have its own interests. 'Need to know' basis meant there was a hierarchy and she was not party to what was happening. She was being pulled out into the field more though and Lorenzo let out a thoughtful hum.

"Si, en my experience things have been happening much more, but I do wonder ef et es more because et es easier to record now," He motioned with his hand, his fingers swirling supposedly absently but he thought it was sneaky in some ways that they were just seeing more of it because people were able to photograph it and record it for evidence. "When I started, et was rare for me personally to be out of Italia. These days," he gave an open shrug and leaned back in his chair, "I must be everywhere all at once and that es something only Dio can manage," he spared a glance to the sky and pointed a finger that way, but it lingered, just long enough as if he was telling someone not to grant him that ability. "Either I am too present in Vaticano or these things are happening more often and need more serious work to handle."

𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎 & 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 @multipleoccupancy

Had this not been an urgent matter, Fish would not have left Leia’s side. She so rarely felt disturbances in the Force, even now finding it hard to focus on the cacophony of feelings, emotions, sounds and vibrations that always flowed through the Force. But the last time she had felt it, really felt it, terrible things had happened. And so, she could not take this matter lightly. Something was going to happen. Something very bad.

The Force had led her to the Vault, which she was admittedly surprised to see still standing. The temple had fallen a long time ago, after all. She would have been moved by the sight... if someone had not attacked as soon as she opened the sealed doors.

A flash of yellow. A lightsaber.

Her body reacted on instinct, unsheathing her own lightsaber. The weapons met, violently. The shock reverberated in her arm. She was rusty. "I am not your enemy," she grunted, her eyes lit up by the blue of her lightsaber. "I am with the rebellion."

"Why have you come here, Fish?" He recognised her, his voice horse from not using it, save to occasionally shout at the artifacts when they got too whispery. That being said he was relived to see another Jedi, that the void beyond the vault doors was not an endless pit of darkness, that there was still some light in the galaxy after all.

𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐄 & 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 @multipleoccupancy

Calvin stood her up, kept her beside him and his hand lingered in hers for just a moment too long before he let her go, eager to hear her speak French and with the promise of teaching him without being made a fool, in that terrible moment for Fish, she was the best thing he had as entertainment. He was all smiles, surprise and gentleness for the moment at least while she spoke and he realised she'd introduced herself.

Thrilled with her example and the translation, Calvin beamed at her. "It really is a beautiful an' fine language." She encouraged him to try it and after a moment of clear mental preparation, he tried to mimic what she had just said.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐀 @multipleoccupancy

"Well, there's nothing you can't handle," she confirmed with a warm smile, always very confident in her friend's abilities to lead and guide new agents. "But you know you can always ask me if they need a more in-depth reminder. Like a seminar." With a smile, Samantha grabbed one of her pamphlets.

"And I'm never out of brochure ideas."

She eyed him softly as he checked the corners of the room, a habit she knew very well. What did surprise her, though, was Killian's request. He was always on the field. Even when she left the field, he continued. God knew she wished he'd stop and take an office job at the Program instead.

She agreed that he could have a month or two though he wasn't sure that would be enough he would take what he could get and work the rest out as he went along. He imagined the moment The Horned One found out what he was doing, things would become more complicated anyway and he had to be ready for that.

A visit from a priest may have changed that. If someone could have seen him before that stage, perhaps he'd have never started down the thought path that had led to his disillusionment with the church. He'd been a new person at that point. In many ways, he still was. Instead of panicking, Charlie didn't find it too hard to imagine that he might have latched onto the chance to be offered answers instead.

But it was too late for that now. Charlie had decided on his own answers, and they included the fact that if an almighty being was willing to let such terrible things happen to him, then he shouldn't see anything of worth in them.

"Yeah, it's almost like fate, isn't it?" Charlie muttered in response to the comment about his name. The same had been said on one of the days where his parents had dragged him along to church with them. It hadn't been malicious - just someone trying to comfort a man who clearly needed it - but, in the moment, it had felt so infuriating. Charlie's response hadn't been kind. It had been an angry torrent of emotion which had resulted in his parents having to make countless apologies for him as they tried to explain that the mood swings couldn't be helped and his words shouldn't be taken seriously. In hindsight, that was regretful, and he had ensured that he apologised himself once he realised that, but on the positive side, it had at least meant that he'd been left at home on Sunday for a good few weeks afterwards.

That wasn't something Charlie wanted to talk about, though. What he wanted to talk about was absolutely anything else, and he quickly found himself trying to work out what exactly that could be. He could start recommending things to do in Yorkshire? Or talk about how nice is it to go home? Actually, no, that wasn't a good idea. That could get shot back at him, which wasn't ideal seeing as his home didn't really feel like anything of the sort anymore. So, how about-

Oh, actually, he had an idea! A good idea, too. One that could be useful for more than just idle chatter.

"Hey, you must speak better Latin than me, right? Before you leave London, I don't suppose you'd have a look at some evidence I've got in an old case I've been given? It must have slipped through the cracks because it's definitely one of those weird ones that I'm supposed to hand off to this other department, but I reckon I have some ideas about it so I want to see if I can give it a shot myself first. Would you mind? It shouldn't take long. It's just some old documents they found on the victim."

He took another sip of his coffee and thought about what he might have to do in Yorkshire, already pleased that Charlie was not possessed and had experienced what most would consider a miracle, he didn't blame him for not seeing it as such yet. He'd already said that people experienced the world, life and faith very differently and he wouldn't be contradicting his own beliefs in that matter.

The conversation seemed to taper out and while Lorenzo was sure with enough careful encouragement he might be able to get Charlie back into the church, he did have other matters to attend to and he was indeed eager to get back home to Vatican City. He thought they would finish their coffee, he'd thank him, wish him well and then head to Yorkshire early, then ask the Pope to send Charlie his letter to give to his mother, as promised.

It seemed, however, that there was more to be done and as Charlie described he needed someone fluent in Latin for a case, he smiled. "Like a detective?" It amused him of course because in much of his work there was a lot of detective work going on, mostly on a larger scale than just a single case but he had to work in those too, just in very unconventional ways.

Latin was not that unusual, people used it for all sorts of things other than religion. It was true the words held power but one had to be in tune with said power in order to wield it properly. He imagined what was in the case was something along the lines of spell work somewhere and it would be worth a look regardless. "Si, I can help." He agreed with a nod.

𝐎𝐁𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍 & 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐔 @multipleoccupancy

Upon hearing his name, Grogu tilted his head and chirped. His little hand was still gripping Obi Wan's pants, tugging ever so slightly at them. When he opened his arms, Grogy reached out, happy to be lifted up. While his memory from before was blurry, he trusted Obi Wan.

Another little chirp. Grogu was very glad to see him, too. He could feel the man's sadness, though. It flowed through the force like a river. His ears flopped in concern. Why was he sad? Grogu didn't remember enough to tell. His mind had wiped most of what had happened that day. Sometimes, a scream or a flash of red managed to float to the surface. But Grogu ignored it.

"I'm sorry my old friend," he said softly, his eyes so tired and his soul even more so. "My emotions are not a sadness for seeing you, in fact I am very happy we're both here at the same time." Grief and despair loomed over him relentlessly and he kept recalling the words of Master Yoda, that he would be greatly tested by the Force and it now felt very true and horribly unfair. Grogu on the other hand had been left apparently to the mercy of pirates but he looked well and even seemed happy. Obi Wan offered him something not quite a smile but still a reassurance in his expression.

However well-intentioned Dumbledore's questions might be -- and Theo was nowhere near convinced on that point -- the fact was that he was the last staff member Theo would ever consider confiding in, because she didn't trust him. She didn't trust anyone outside of Slytherin House anymore. True, Professor Lupin had been kind to her when she'd fainted, but he hadn't even been at Hogwarts for two full months yet, so Theo wasn't ready to draw any firm conclusions. The jury, as they said, was still out.

But Dumbledore? Dumbledore had made his opinion of Theo's house quite clear, and he had done so in a way that none of the students in Slytherin would ever forget. He couldn't be trusted, for all that he had the manner of a kindly old man. Theo far preferred Professor Snape's acerbic sarcasm, because at least that was honest. The Potions Master did not suffer fools, and anyone who wasted his time with trivial matters would find themselves firmly rebuked for doing so, but Theo and her housemates all knew that if they were ever faced with a real problem, they could rely on Professor Snape. He wasn't like the rest of the teachers. He didn't leap to assumptions about students who happened to wear green ties.

"It is a large school," Theo agreed, "but there are quite a lot of students here. I mean, the corridors are bound to be crowded sometimes, aren't they? It's simply a matter of numbers, sir." With a shrug, she added, "The jostling is unpleasant, but I doubt most of it is anything personal."

Well, maybe. Theo was smart enough to see that some of it certainly was personal, but that was no business of Dumbledore's.

She wondered if he knew about what had happened in that first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with the Boggart. Probably, she thought, since the teachers surely must have be required to submit reports and such to the headmaster. That was how schools worked, after all. But Theo had no plans to bring up the incident, so unless Dumbledore decided to ask her about it directly, she would keep her thoughts to herself.

Theo's switch to speaking of the weather in general chit chat earned a quiet and warm chuckle from Albus, how quick she had been to control the conversation and speak more of homework, study and the weather of all things. "I have always so enjoyed a fresh breeze, there is something quite invigorating about the whisp of wind though while outside I often find I must take sometime to avoid the leaves landing in my beard." Gentle, whimsical and patient while he spoke with her.

As it happened, he had heard about her fainting incident in Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was not uncommon for students to experience such fear when facing their first boggart after all and Albus quietly repressed his own memory of doing so in his youth. Dementors were a class of their own when it came to handling fear and given what it was known they would do, to suck out a soul after wave and wave of immeasurable sadness, well, he expected most students facing a boggart that year would be coming into close contact with it transformed into the creatures.

❝   .   .   .   AH   -   FUCK   !   ❞   a   scream   tore   from   her   throat   so   violently   it   left   the   inside   raw   and   burning   ,   her   hand   instinctively   yanking   backward   in   desperation   .   (   but   butcher   refused   to   let   go   )   .   his   grip   remained   locked   around   her   like   the   jaws   of   some   rabid   ,   unneutered   pitbull   ,   teeth   grinding   painfully   into   her   flesh   until   amelia   could   feel   skin   beginning   to   tear   beneath   the   pressure   .   (   agony   pulsed   through   her   arm   as   blood   threatened   to   break   through   the   bruised   skin   )   ,   and   still   he   continued   biting   for   several   unbearable   seconds   .

the   pain   caused   her   legs   to   weaken   ,   forcing   her   down   onto   trembling   knees   before   she   finally   managed   to   wrench   herself   free   from   his   grasp   .   ❝   GOD   -   YOU   ARE   A   FUCKING   ANIMAL   !   ❞   tear   filled   eyes   lowered   toward   her   hand   ,   (   the   deep   imprint   of   butcher’s   teeth   clearly   visible   against   bruised   and   reddening   flesh   )   .   ❝   .   .   .   i   am   going   to   fucking   kill   you   ,   butcher   .   ❞   with   that   ,   amelia   lunged   at   him   without   hesitation   ,   forcing   butcher   back   onto   the   filthy   ground   beneath   the   weight   of   her   body   .   (   fury   seething   in   her   eyes   -   as   she   climbed   over   him   )   ,   both   hands   wrapping   tightly   around   his   throat   .

He wasn't expecting an instant retaliation, really he thought she'd kick him again or stand on him or whatever else but he simply wasn't ready for when she lunged at him. He fell back, smacking his head against the floor "Fu-" but he couldn't get his swear out as her hands wrapped tightly around his neck. He was down! For a good few seconds that felt like an eternity he couldn't breathe, she had the upper hand and wasn't going to relent.

❝   .   .   .   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐋𝐀𝐖   𝐈𝐒   𝐍𝐎𝐓   𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃   ,   𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆   .   it   is   merely   another   weapon   ,   and   i   know   precisely   how   to   wield   it   .   people   enter   my   office   stained   with   guilt   so   obvious   it   practically   drips   from   their   skin   ,   yet   they   still   beg   to   be   saved   .   (   .   .   .   )   we   commit   horrors   beyond   comprehension   ,   only   to   cry   when   consequences   finally   𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐊   𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑   𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇   𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎   𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌   .   .   .   ❞

indie   .   highly   selective   ,   original   character   of   amelia   rosalie   bach   .   inspired   by   the   the corrupt conduct of modern day lawyers . adored   ,   loved   and   persecuted   by   marie   .   (   𝟐𝟒   ,   𝐬𝐡𝐞   /   𝐡𝐞𝐫   )

That, and it had been a long day without any breaks. Naturally, Mycroft wasn't in the best of moods.

"I don't trust takeaway from unfamiliar locations." It was a safety concern, but only partially. For the most part, Mycroft was more worried about the quality. The probability of somebody actively trying to poison him was currently low. The probability of receiving terrible food, however? Beneventi's local knowledge helped reduce it, but Mycroft still didn't favour the likely outcomes.

Besides, perhaps it would be sensible to step away for an hour or so. Mycroft was no stranger to burning the midnight oil, but he could still concede that, where appropriate and possible, a short break was often beneficial. Eating was also important, even if he did find himself neglecting that basic requirement in favour of pressing on with whatever he was doing instead.

"Let's have a proper break," he decided, "Pick your favourite place to eat. We'll go there."

Theo wasn't too worried about the rejection of a take out either, again, Mycroft did not look like the type and he understood that he had more things to worry about aside from the risks of a dodgy fast food joint. He suggested he picked his favourite joint and Theo laughed again, "I think we'll go to my wife's preference instead, I suspect you would not enjoy the local pizza place which is my favourite." He was a healthy man who watched his weight but a pizza on his birthday and any extra excuse through the year was usually bought from that same pizza place.

He closed the files he was working on with the intention of securing them while they were out of the office. "Hers is Manhatta, it's not far away but is atop One Chase Manhattan Plaza," a 60storey building though modern of course. "Or there's the trinity restaurant and bar just a block passed that if you'd rather keep your feet on the ground?"

Now though that Robert has proven himself a true Ally, he is a bit more confident in his standing in the settlement. At least now he won't be the first to be sacrificed should an attack happen he supposes. Not that Nate would let anything happen to Robert. But Robert has dealt with mutiny plenty of times.

Robert was sitting proudly, sipping his coffee, looking out as the fog of the morning is slowly lifting as the sun is warming the neighborhood with it's rays. The coffee is alright for 200 years old, and Robert tries not to let the question make him react any different.

Robert sets his arm to rest with his mug of coffee on the arm of his chair as he contemplates his answer.

"Well, I should let you know, I have always been one to rarely sleep. My brain rarely wishes to power down. It's why I enjoyed being a computer." His hand not holding his mug, brings his cigarette to his lips, inhaling and taking a moment before he continues.

"I have been working on a terminal, to see if I can't tap into New Vegas from here, as I do miss it. I've also been working on, a few new turret deigns for the settlement but. I think I'll be able to get the scrap and actually make those in the settlement we are about to head to."

Robert nods his head as he watches the smoke from his lungs drift away in the wind. He looks to Nate with bit of a confident grin. But he doesn't say that, when Nate was gone was when Robert really stressed the most. He didn't mention that he was indeed relieved the other made it safely back. And to know Nate was just a house over was a strange comfort that Robert wasn't sure he wasn't ready to admit too.

Robert was also not certain if what he was reading in Nate was what he was really reading. Nate from his research was a straight man. And not that Robert wasn't unfamiliar with DL men, but he didn't want to assume anything. Perhaps Nate was just accidentally being overly friendly. Besides, Nate has bigger priorities than Robert and his complex and hard to resist feelings toward the other.

He supposes with a mind like Robert's, sleep is not a priority now that he explains it as powering down. Was it better to remain a computer? Robert asked for a synth body though, this is his choice and if he changes his mind then there's nothing stopping him from going back if he really wants to be a computer again. Nate hopes he won't do that though and hides such a thought pattern in a careful sip of the coffee.

"If you let me know what you need for your terminals, I'll do my best to keep an eye out for them, is there a special circuit board that might help? I have a bunch of military ones I picked up from a base if you can put them together." He really doesn't want Robert running away to New Vegas, he can't and won't stop him but he's come to rely on his company and his handy work and Nate still needs him!

The hesitations bring the feeling of vulnerability and Nate's worried eyes settle on a more softer looks as Robert explains. He can't have meant it in the way Nate thought right? No, he can't let that happen right now. He can't indulge while there's too much to do. The thought is nudged away and 'friend' is the focus.

"Between you and I, I think my training has paid off and makes me something of a nightmare for our enemies." Nate the Rake rumours had ripped to even his ears recently and well, he has no intention of correcting it if it means that such a reputation might have some of his enemies think twice before moving against him, he wasn't exactly forgiving to anyone but settlers and minutemen... and Robert.

But then, Mycroft would be the unlucky one too in that situation, wouldn't he? Edgar being Edgar, he wouldn't be surprised to find the man unable to resist pointing out the prior claim that he was looking forwards the navigating the world of office politics.

"You may regret that offer. With international politics being as they are, it's only a matter of time before I find myself in need of a solution to something occurring here."

Luckily, Mycroft was the time to be sensible with his requests. He was not, for example, going to ask Edgar to assassinate any American politicians. Well, not unless there was a very good reason for it and a guarantee that it wouldn't spark a new world war, anyway. Spying, however, was likely going to be needed - or perhaps delivering a message, or even a threat. Considering how Mycroft had a past working with Edgar, which meant he trusted him far more than the other resources at his disposal, it seemed likely that the sensitive work would be sent his way, but there was no guarantee that the sensitive work would be the most interesting.

"This does, at least, mean that I'm sure I'll have to return in person eventually. This won't be the last you see of me. I do hope you're not too disappointed to hear that?"

The joke earned another soft laugh and a shake of his head, "No, I'm not disappointed to hear that, though I'm sad that it will be less frequent." He'd come to care about Mycroft and his career. He'd admittedly been a thorn in everyone's side for so long that it was refreshing to find someone who could or at least would tolerate his behaviour because he recognised his value. Insubordination was tossed around a lot when it came to describing Edgar and his own career, yet he'd so far always listened to Mycroft. There was something in that which Edgar left unaddressed.

"Of course you can consider that you'll have somewhere to stay when you are here, though I can't say Sir Anthony or whoever it is that comes in as his replacement over the coming years will be able to turn you away even if you wanted them to." No, more likely they might recognise him as Edgar's boss and complain directly to him instead. He'd have to make sure they had some decently funny stories to complain to him about at least.

"Tilly Tunabreath is missing," Theo said earnestly, looking up at the headmaster. Then, because she realized how ridiculous that statement must sound to anyone who didn't know Pansy and her penchant for silly pet names, she explained, "That's my best friend's cat. She hasn't been seen for three days now, and my friend" -- just my friend, of course, because Theo wasn't going to implicate Pansy if she didn't have to -- "is in a terrible state. She's been crying all evening."

Fiddling absent-mindedly with the hem of her sleeve, Theo continued, "I asked her if she wanted one of the prefects to fetch Professor Snape, so that he could take her to the hospital wing for a Calming Draught, but she doesn't want to leave the dormitory, in case Tilly comes back while she's gone." That, and because Pansy was fastidious about her appearance and didn't want to be seen with a red nose and a blotchy face. But that was just one of her little quirks, and Theo wouldn't have her any other way.

"I was going to go down to the kitchens to ask the house-elves to make her some hot cocoa, and to see if they had a bit of tuna she could use to try to coax Tilly out from wherever she's hiding." A slight touch of defiance entered Theo's expression as she added, "I know I shouldn't be out after curfew, sir, but she's my best friend, and I hate seeing her so upset. And even if I were a fully qualified witch, I wouldn't be able to conjure tuna and a mug of cocoa. I mean, food is one of the exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, isn't it? Everyone knows that."

"Such strong bonds and built so quickly are a very different and I think most precious form of magic that can be found in the world." It was at least a subtle praise though not encouragement for further rule breaking. He was surprised at her knowledge of transfiguration and with another smile and a nod, he agreed, "Yes you are correct. It seems you have a natural understanding of Transfiguration, a subject after my own heart," further encouragement before the inevitable correction that was on the way.

"While your friend is very lucky to have found you and so daring and devoted enough to break the rules for their happiness, I think that they might be more upset that you would have ended up at the doorway of detention having being caught breaking the rules." He peered at her over the rim of his glasses but the patient smile remained regardless. "A familiar exploring the castle is quite normal while they get used to their new home just as much as their student companions have to adjust. I think it likely Miss Tunabreath has found another cat who has befriended her as you have your friend." A gentle reassurance but from the sounds of it, it would not be enough for Theo's friend to settle.