#oceanicwrites

Viper didn’t look up from her work station as Killjoy entered her lab; her brow was furrowed over whatever results were currently lighting up the monitor in front of her. Viper was used to Klara entering her lab, certain parts had become something of a shared workspace for when Killjoy and Raze were tinkering and needed a second opinion—it was nice having a PhD informed mentor—even if Viper would scoff at the insinuation of ‘mentor.’

Klara took a breath as she walked up to Viper’s desk, “Hey, Viper?”

She received a brief hum as a reply. “You said you’d come eat with us today.” Viper paused her writing, looked briefly at Killjoy, her gaze jumping between the incoming data sets and her favorite junior agent, and she finally spoke,

“I… I did.” She set down her pen and turned slightly to face Klara, “Yes, I did say that. Why are you mentioning it?”

“Oh, well. It’s almost lunch and I’m sure you haven’t eaten—or slept, no offense.” Viper once again noncommittally hummed, who was she to argue with the obvious? “So, I’d like to take you up on your promise, and I swear it’ll be quick and easy. Everyone does want you there, by the way.”

Viper sighed. She knew she wouldn’t say no, she was only avoiding the inevitable.

“Actually, how long has it been? Since you’ve eaten, or slept?”

“Pushing your luck. I’ll be there in ten.” Killjoy beamed and excused herself—mission accomplished.

———

Viper had no clue what time it was. She also had no clue why she agreed to this. She also had no clue why she was playing favorites. Viper knew Klara, from before. She had seen her face around Kingdom often; the newest young prodigy on Kingdoms payroll. Viper remembered what it was like, to be impressionable and exploitable and thrust into a world of scientific innovation. Had the work been Klara’s world, too? Had it been ripped from her at knifepoint, too? Metaphorically, or literally?

She would think about that later.

Now, however, the sound of laughter grew as she got closer to HQ’s commons.

Viper took a deep breath.

Fuck.

Viper wasn’t averse to socializing, she simply preferred to keep to her strengths. Such as chemistry. She had a PhD in it, for god’s sake, is it so wrong to prefer a conversation about her profession?

Viper pushed through the doors to HQ’s commons and was promptly blinded by the direct sunlight shining through the windows, doubly reflected by the sea surrounded HQ. God, when was the last time she went outside?

She bit back a curse and shielded her definitely-not-burned corneas with her hand, and a voice called out her callsign;

“Viper! Klara told us you’d be making an appearance,” Astra smiled and gestured to the plates on the kitchenette’s counter, “Plate?”

“Just making some coffee,” Viper looked over to where Killjoy was animatedly talking with the other junior agents, “…Klara mentioned something?” She started the coffee maker.

“Nothing much, just that you’d be here.” Astra smiled again and left Viper to make her coffee, walking over to where another handful of agents, namely Chamber and Deadlock, were pouring over some kind of diagram, likely a blueprint, while Reyna and Sage looked on, interjecting occasionally.

The coffee maker’s beeping pulled her from her people-watching.

Said coffee tasted awful. Especially compared to her favorite home-brew. Viper only sighed and took a seat in the sunlit armchair next to the windows, as far from where everyone else had congregated as the room allowed.

Klara hadn’t specified that she had to speak to anyone else.

She would admit (although not out loud) the view was… nice. The sun felt nice. The coffee was still awful. The mug went on a side table.

Viper was tired.

Of many things, mainly her own mind. Her body was tired too; Klara was right, she hadn’t properly slept for… how long? She closed her eyes to block out sun in her face.

The one thing she could never block out, however, was still herself. Viper tried anyway.

———

“…Sunwoo, as much as I love you, my turret definitely has a faster reaction time than you,”

“Bullshit! I’d like to see that fucker to get a higher score than me on the training bots.” Jett, Han Sunwoo, energetically declared, halfways out of her seat.

Lunch was always interesting, a nice respite from tinkering and testing machinery. As much as Klara loved her work, teasing her hot-headed friends was equally rewarding.

Speaking of bots-

“Oh, you reminded me; I did want to recalibrate my bots’ motion sensors…” Klara stopped Sunwoo from continuing her tangent about reaction time, “Maybe you could help me with the speed tests? I also wanted to review their field of vision and sensitivity —different smokes tends to interfere with their sight—” Sunwoo had quietly passed her a pen for note-taking by now, “Oh, Viper?” Klara called out, “Can we utilize your gas for some testing-”

Huh?

Klara had turned to the far side of the room where Viper had settled down, inquiry still on her tongue, and stopped dead in her tracks.

Viper, VP founder and second-in-command, world-renowned scientist, former Chief Scientific Officer and Kingdom Corporation board advisor, one of the chemists who discovered radianite, easily the scariest woman alive, was…

asleep?

On an armchair, in the sun.

One long leg tucked under her, just barely curled up into herself, her chest softly rising with her breath. Jet black hair fell over her face, it almost shone in the sunlight.

Silence slowly spread through the commons. Everyone had paused to see the commotion -or lack thereof. The air was thick with the tension of everyone processing the sight. An amused voice broke the silence,

“I was curious if she ever slept.” Zyanya said as she leaned against the kitchenette’s island, and cocked her head and smirked, “Mean as-hell until she finds a patch of sun to settle down in? Shes like a cat.”

Multiple panicked expressions looked between Zyanya and Viper. The only thing that upset Viper —more than Reyna— was being caught in any kind of vulnerable or, god-forbid, humanizing situation.

Safe to say, Viper’d be pissed if she woke up to the entire protocol knowing she was sleep deprived enough to pass out in the busiest room of HQ.

Lingying, who looked like she was using 90% of her energy to avoid rolling her eyes, elbowed Zyanya and added, “She should sleep.”

She then muttered, “God knows how many times I’ve told her… but I am only a doctor for thirty soldiers, what do I know?” Sage quietly gathered an un-used blanket and laid it over Vipers legs, making pains to not disturb her.

Astra simply smiled to herself, Fade took a photo.

Klara was dumbfounded. Her table was also dead silent. And likely also dumbfounded. I mean, she is a human being —I know I do joke about her not sleeping, however, I cant help but feel like Tayane’s paint fumes have caused adverse effects on my psyche…

Klara supposed some of her bot tests would have to wait for the moment.

———

Wind gusts over the sea surrounding HQ are what finally roused Viper.

She slowly blinked and took in her surroundings: the sun was gone and clouds of a distant storm had settled over the horizon. The lights were dimmed, the only light was from outside. She was in the commons. In a chair? With a blanket?

She was in the commons. She’d fell asleep. She had fallen asleep, in the commons?

Viper was now awake.

She groaned, with her head in her hands. This is mortifying. Her habits had unfortunately, annoyingly, embarrassingly, caught up to her today.

However.

She would begrudgingly admit, the headache —that had been plaguing her temples since the morning— had subsided.

Viper sent a up desperate prayer, to whatever god had long ago forsaken her, and checked her phone:

Reyna (Do Not Answer): I think we should change your snake motif to something more, house-cat like, no?

mouse: Viper! Thank you for coming along with me today; whenever you are back to work, I had a few questions about my bot calibrations. :D< And please take more breaks. Sage has already scolded Tayane and I for, quote, “enabling”

A silly (That i never posted and has been collecting dust in my drafts for MONTHS???) insp by this ^^^ post and the In My Zone mv ✌︎('ω')✌︎

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

The only sound besides the VLTR’s whirring engines was Jetts bouncing leg against the metal floor, “…Is Viper alright?”

“Its not as though she will let me very close, Jett. I got shoved away as soon as I helped her into the cockpit.” Sova huffed as he sat down and rubbed a hand over his eyes, “She claims to have coordinates to recalibrate, and since I’d like to keep my remaining eye, I listen. Unlike you.”

Neon only glanced between the two as Omen chimed in: “Harsh, Sova,” from his shadowy corner.

Jett took a breath, “So shes mad?”

“And likely concussed.”

“Oh.”

Sunwoo flinched as the VLTR’s speakers crackled overhead and Viper’s smooth voice said only one word:

“Jett.”

Tala -Neon- stared at the ceiling, whistling as Jett slowly walked towards the cockpit, giving her a pained smile as she passed.

Sovas stern accent broke the silence when Jett grabbed the handle to the cockpit entrance, “She wont kill you, we ran out of ammo back at Everett-Linde.”

…

Viper didn’t look up at the doors opening and closing with Jett’s entrance. She was sat in the pilots seat, her mask was still gone, left in pieces in the grass of Fracture’s ruins.

Jett’s feet were, for once, rooted to the floor. She was only awoken from her fear-induced paralysis by the sight of Viper silently holding out a folder with one hand, the other brushing pitch black hair off her forehead.

Jett hurriedly took the manila folder -labeled with the days date and Fracture’s coordinates- and sat, Viper’s now-free hand gestured to the open co-pilot’s chair.

“Open that. Fifth page, section three, under the coordinates. Not above, under.” Viper’s forearm was now resting over her eyes, blocking out any and all light from the setting sun, or the LEDS of the VLTR’s control panel. “Are these number sets the same?” Her free hand tapped the display of the panel, and Sunwoo leaned in to compare the two.

“…They look like it?” Jett’s earlier paralysis had subsided, but her heart still felt like it was going to beat out of her chest.

Viper sighed, “Well. I can add that to my resume.”

“Sorry, add what?”

“Something about being able to enter coordinates when the entire keypad is a blur,”

“Sorry, what?”

Viper huffed as she bit down on the threat of a smile escaping her mouth,

“I might be concussed.” The start of a laugh escaped her lips, and she instantly doubled over, folding her long body into itself “-Fuck! Okay, ow.”

“Are you okay? Viper?”

“Yes Jett, I am certainly alive.” Green eyes met Jetts from under a sheet of dark hair. “You’ve heard me curse before, yes? Remember, I am the crazy one and Sage is the monk.”

“Copy that…” Jett sighed, “…And its my fault you got shot,”

“We all know that,”

“Oh. Yeah -yeah! I know. I know that you know too but- ”

“You wanted to apologize,”

“Duh,”

“I am your superior officer,”

“And right now you are one flashing light away from puking,”

“And one more ‘duh’ away from releasing neurotoxins into this room.” Viper said as she sat up slightly, and judging by the glimmer in her eyes, Sunwoo knew she wasn’t joking, “Well. Apology accepted. Goodbye.”

“-Huh!? I didn’t even say-”

“Sova told me to go easy on you, this is that. Goodbye. See you at landing,” With a press of a button, the cockpit doors slid open, and Jett met the gazes of both Tala and Sova as she almost fell out into the main floor of the VLTR.

“Wha-” The doors to the cockpit closed just as quickly as they opened. “What the fuck is her deal?!”

“Concussion,” Sova deadpanned, then waved a hand towards Jett and Neon, “I’m going to co-pilot, try not to concuss Omen or Neon next, Jett.” He said, and was definitely biting down on a laugh as he left for the cockpit.

Blatantly ignoring Sova, Tala —eloquent as ever— chimed in: “Viper’s deal? Scary Asshole disorder,”

“I don’t think that is an official diagnosis, Neon.” Omen added, without looking up from his Sudoku book.

…

The rest of the flight was blissfully uneventful, beyond Jett being forced to shamefully call ahead for Sage or Skye’s assistance with Viper upon landing.

Eventually the VLTR touched down and Sova handed Viper off to the protocol’s two healers, as well as Reyna, who trailed behind Sage and was definitely making fun of how out-of-it the Protocol’s normally-intimidating commander was.

Jett was instructed to complete three extra reports; one incident record, one supply count report that would normally be left to Viper, and some extra medical record —along with multiple hours’ worth of assisting Sage in filing clinic documents— punishment that also relieved Sage of some of her more tedious work.

Jett didn’t mind the community service, but was dreading being present when Viper regained some lucidity —which could take any amount of time: The protocol’s healers were especially careful with anything brain-related— they could expedite the healing, but preferred to leave actual neurological regeneration to the body.

The dread of facing the consequences of her recklessness hung over her.

Neon also got stuck with a few hours of clinic duty for her role in “almost getting our second-in-command killed,” and Jett was grateful for the respite from silence, that was interrupted only by occasional quiet conversations with Sage and the sound of clinic machinery.

Of course, not even an hour after Tala had abandoned Sunwoo to her antiseptic-scented prison, a gravely voice called out from the clinic bed Viper had been cooped up in for monitoring;

“…Sage?”

Before Sunwoo could finish contemplating the idea of staying silent, Viper had stepped out from the privacy curtains divvying up the clinic’s recovery room. Even though she always towered over Jett, she seemed smaller like this, in a faded black t-shirt and sweatpants. A stray strand of hair had failed to stay tucked behind her left ear. She walked over to where Sunwoo was refilling a drawer of documents, on the floor:

“Jett. Thought I heard your voice a few times.”

“Oh, yeah… How’s your head?”

Viper just hummed noncommittally, and sat down opposite to Sunwoo around the stacks of files.

“Im surprised this is what Sage assigned you to,”

Sunwoo looked back at the files in her hands, then back up at Viper,

“Uh… why?”

“Because I am confident in her neuroticism, and that there are zero mistakes in her documents that warrant ‘refiling’” Viper said, making air quotations around the word ‘refiling,’ as she spoke, “In all your sorting, have there been any organizational mistakes you’ve corrected?”

Jett stopped to think, and set the files in her hands down, and let out an exasperated sigh, “Shit, there hasn’t.”

“So you have been taking out, reading, and putting back, folders for… almost two days now?”

Sunwoo put her face in her hands, “Oh my god. She’s just been keeping me out of her way. Tala too.” She said through her fingers, “Busy-work for my detention? Like a child? Really?”

Viper ignored Jett’s mini-crisis, and continued;

“Put down the folders, and review timings and following our protocols for engagement. That’s an order.” Viper said as she began collecting Jett’s apparently-useless paperwork, but there was none of her usual venom in her voice, “Next time I get shot, I’m taking your cocky-ass down with me.”

“Understood,” Sunwoo felt a slight smile creeping onto her face, “And sorry. Again.”

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

Hazal didn’t know what to say.

“I took a walk.” Hazal bit her lip, avoiding Iselins icy gaze. “I just needed a cigarette, I didnt think anyone would notice.”

“A mission goes awry, two agents are in critical condition and you think I wouldnt look for you?”

The VTLR returned at 3AM, the landing field cleared with sirens and lights to allow immediate access to the injured agents. Resistance hadn’t been expected, but local corruption ran deeper than even Cypher had decoded. The mercenaries hired by corrupt politicians planned an ambush. They fought back, hard.

Waves thundered against the cliffs surrounding HQ, red lights and alarms from the VLTRS early emergency return still echoed, barely audible down in the small relief of beach under the cliffface. Iselin grabbed Hazals sharp wrist and forced their eyes to meet.

“How am I supposed to know what happened? Viper barely spared a word for me; Sage is mid procedure and Brimstone has a small government to placate after we failed our interception of that arms deal.” Iselins breathing labored, she almost had to shout to be heard over the distant waves.

“I didn’t think I’d find you out here Hazal. I really thought you were half dead, in an infirmary I don’t have clearance to search for you in.”

Hazal scoffed, “Then why are you all the way out here? Now?”

Iselin could only laugh, a sharp and incredulous hah! “To smoke.”

Now Hazal was the confused one. She closed the distance between them, searching for any hint of a joke in Iselins stormy grey eyes. Eyes that she was the first to search for in any room, eyes that truly saw her, even if she could not admit it.

“…I thought you quit smoking?”

Iselin dropped Hazals wrist and sighed, “Fuck, Hazal, it’s three in the morning, cold, storming, of course I need a goddamn cigarette. I didn’t know who was hurt, only that a mission went to shit and I couldnt find you. Tobaccos the closest I could get to the taste of you.”

Hazals face warmed at the image of Iselin, returning to bad habits just for the reminder of her.

Her?

Why cant Hazal adapt to a world in which she is more than a shadow? She had so many questions that had no answer. But to Iselin, the only response she could manage was:

“I taste like -like cigarettes?”

“God Hazal, yes. I cant seem to forget it. You make me crave something my sisters endlessly scolded me for indulging in.”

“I just had one. A cigarette.” Hazal swallowed. “Im sorry, but I have a few left.” She pulled a box and a lighter from inside her worn leather jacket.

“…Do you want one of mine? Instead?” Hazal quickly lit one, balancing it between her pointer and middle fingers, and returned the case and light to her jacket.

Iselin only leaned forward, one of Hazals hands resting on her jaw, guiding her pale face forward to meet Hazals fingers, placing the cigarette in her mouth.

They stayed that way, Iselin deeply breathing in the dark smoke as Hazal held her face, her fingers holding the cigarette. Iselins lips pressing against her fingers as her lips closed around the filter, then the heat of Iselins smokey exhale. The smoke of her breath tickled Hazals hands and face, a sensation more striking than the bitter winds and sea spray around them.

Iselin was mesmerized by Hazals hands and face so near to hers, equally intoxicated by the smoke filling her lungs and the henna decorating Hazals long fingers and gentle hands.

Hazals voice broke the silence.

“Im sorry.”

“I know.

..However, this is almost enough to make up for it”

Hazal tilted Iselins jaw up, making their eyes meet, “Don’t start smoking again because of me.”

“This is the last time,” But Iselin smirked against Hazals palm.

“…Unless…you want to help me smoke like this again. If so, I might be addicted.” While taking another long hit, Iselins gaze never left Hazals.