@bulletgraze / liked for a one-liner <3

            “  o-okay,  spill…  you've  gotten  me  like  3  coffees  this  week  -  with  all  the  fixings,  what  did  you  do  -  ”

she's  totally  not  suspicious  in  the  slightest.  okay,  she  is,  and  she's  definitely  narrowing  pale  eyes  at  leon.  because  he's  always  nice  to  her,  but  this  seems  to  be  a  little  overboard.

✱ ˚｡⋆ ↪ 1-800 ( HIT MY LINE ) / @bulletgraze

❀― headcanon questions | always accepting !

above all else, indra values, and relies on, control. if she felt herself spiraling into a panic attack, she would immediately try to intercept it before the anxiety escalated beyond what she could contain. she uses anxiety, grief, and anger to fuel action. it's distraction, essentially. if she's anxious, she'll focus on something she can control, something that she believes will give her more stability--- like researching a lead, or breaching a database.

INDRA KNOWS THAT IS NOT A LIE. she knows who leon is. his history is imprinted in databases she's scoured endlessly. his records are detailed. raccoon city. valdelobos. tall oaks. lanshiang. the horrors he must have seen are imaginable only because indra has witnessed them herself. the people he could not save. his history painted the picture of someone who protects, someone who cares, someone who takes responsibility. a rookie cop looking to make a difference. a government attack dog to eliminate biological threats to the nation. watching atrocities he could not stop must have been agony. knowing that there would never be an end to it, maddening. to fear for one's own life is a specific kind of horror, a primal desperation.

SHE HEARS HIM though her attention remains deep in her pack, fingers fishing for the trinket she had nabbed from an unfortunate goblin at the dilapidated selunite temple. it had some magic to it, she could feel, though not particularly powerful. the metal felt warm and had a slight pulse to it, like the flow of water against the shore. the weave, gale would probably call it. she pulls it from the rucksack and scrutinizes it. the chain is silver, and it cradles a bright red stone. " hm... " she hums, only considering leon's statement when her task is finished.

That alone was a problem.

She’s bleeding, and the second anything seemed to get close, she strikes at it with an overwhelming amount of force. Leon seemingly was the exception, but she still lashed out at him, and had to aggressively hold herself back.

Her hands came up and grabbed her whole face, trying to get some kind of grip on her sanity back after she had finished wheeling on the last BOW in the area. Her breathings heavy, muscles tense and it felt GOOD… If she didn’t bring herself down she was going to be more of a danger than an asset.

“You kidding? I have way more freedom here then the CIA or Secret Service ever gave me. At least here I can actually act off script and survive then operate by their dumbass books.” She grins, shrugging a bit before clapping her hand down on his shoulder.

“In my experience- No, you’ll never truly know them unless you crawl through the same muck that they have.” She shrugs, dangling a cigarette from her lips and lighting it. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try, though. You don’t have to know every inch of them to love them… Just don’t let the persona they show you cloud your judgement.”

She hums, taking a drag of the cigarette before leaning on the railing of the patio. This bar had great views of DC, when it wasn’t completely crammed with people. “Everyones got skeletons in their closets and parts of themselves they hate and try to bury, but thats what makes them human.”

And the very least you can do for someone is treat them humanely… Unless they prove themselves true monsters.