#kronosevent

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Despite the announcement leaving a familiar chill in her bones, Emerald keeps the façade lifted with feigned optimism. She'd spent enough time on herself to mingle with the crowd, to control the very thing they've placed in a commercial vial, but she could feel the anger bubbling in the middle of her throat.

there’s little trouble to get into on the rooftop, but then he hadn’t expected to find much up of anything up here. he’s mildly surprised to find it decorated with tiny twinkling lights that seem to never phase out of relevance no matter the decade. there are seating arrangements, too, as if it’s common to host an event atop a museum but then maybe it is. a lot of change can happen in seven years. he hoists himself up to sit on the parapet - feet dangling over the edge - and gazes out over the capital city. when he was younger, he dreamed of blacking out an entire city like this. just to see if he could. he’s old enough to know it’s a death wish, but that childlike curiosity remains. he supposes he should be grateful the nsa couldn’t extinguish that over the last seven years. he cranes his head back as the door to the rooftop opens, blue eyes giving the intruder a once over before he, good naturedly, offers his vape pen. not without taking a hit first, but still offered nonetheless. “first hit’s free.“

saskia loves a good party - especially one where the food and drinks are on her boss’s dime - as much as the next person, but even she needs to step away for a moment. blame it on buchanan’s announcement and the sudden need of every single kronos employee to come seek her out and congratulate her as if she’d created the whole damn serum herself. she’s but a small part of the machine and she doesn’t like taking credit for other people’s work.

she doesn’t really want any credit for this either.

the sight of the ‘miracle twins’ leaves her nauseated and with the whole museum being available, saskia takes advantage - meandering from exhibit to exhibit until there’s fewer and fewer people and no chatter about super serums or wonder twins. “i think they’re going to put on another performance here in a few minutes,” she says. she sits on a bench in front of a large painting but facing away from it in a swirl of braids and green fabric. “you sure you wanna miss out on that?”

#𝐊𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝟏 - 𝟐𝟎𝟒𝟎 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐍’𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐀; otto dietrich in unknown, photo credit: novus museum

She can feel it start at the pit of her stomach, bottoming out like an explosive before it surges through her entire system. Anyone can be a super. Just like how she wound up being such a monster by accident, no rhyme or reason. Faulty genetics could be to blame, maybe, but now it didn't matter. Quietly excusing herself from her table, the officer leaves her napkin behind and hugs the perimeter of the room to find her way to her superior.

Always to him; like a moth to a flame, except she embraces burning if it means Emerald can numb the budding emotions threatening to spill up and over the pot.

She waits -- waits for him to show, nostrils flaring once a wall and some privacy gives her space to roll through the motions. Disgust. Fear. Anger -- fuck, so much anger. That implant must be working overtime in the back of her skull.

#𝐊𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝟏 - 𝟐𝟎𝟒𝟎 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐍’𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐀; saskia sarkisian in gucci, photo credit: novus museum

#𝐊𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝟏 - 𝟐𝟎𝟒𝟎 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐍’𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐀; cecil royce in bespoke, photo credit: novus museum

cecil royce made a rare societal appearance at robert buchanan’s annual gala. the 48-year-old royce sported an all black three-piece suit and was accompanied by emerald savoya in red. - jessica logan for e!