#sirenwritesstuff

Sova sat in his apartment after a long day of training, hunched over his desk writing in a brown leather bound journal. The only sound in his apartment being the soft scratching of the pencil on paper, the rest of the space was silent. So silent it felt loud in his overloaded mind. He didn’t understand what was happening.

Training had been good today, plans were made for future missions that he would probably be leading, and he had solid teams that he knew would have his back the same way he had theirs. By the time he was ready to call it for the day and he was simply returning home he was thoroughly exhausted physically and socially. He didn’t want to utter another word to anyone for the rest of the day if he could. But that was when his mind was bombarded with realizations and anxieties that choked his breath.

Things had been going unusually well in the VP recently. They were making strides towards massive improvements across the board in their teams, weapons, and discoveries about their adversaries and Sova was swept up in it. Now in this quiet moment between chaos and endless responsibilities he found himself helplessly anxious. Not about the plans they had in place but generally about his own place in it all. He knew he was a reliable agent. He knew his work ethic was solid, but something about the way the others looked to him was starting to create a nagging sort of doubt in his mind.

What if he couldn’t accomplish this task for them, or what if he was simply not actually good enough at his assigned role? The rest of the agents were like a second family to him and to let them down in any way would feel like a devastating blow. His mind felt like it was spiraling. Rapid Fire memories of mistakes, reprimands, and failures flashed in his mind. It felt like taking a deep breath just waiting to be plunged into frigid water. When would it happen? When would the safety cord finally snap causing all that he had tried to accomplish to vanish from his grasp like smoke. Again and again these possibilities flooded his mind until he was left staring at the journal in front of him paralyzed with anxious thought.

Sometimes there is nothing more grounding than hearing certain sounds that feel like home. For some that might be the bustle of a city, others it might be the sound of an old box fan whirring through the night. For Sasha though those sounds of comfort were a bit different and varied from day to day.

Occasionally on missions that lasted a bit longer and were far away from much civilization they would set up a small fire for the comfort, warmth, and familiarity it provided. In nights like this Sasha would find himself listening to the fire and being taken back to long hunts spent in quiet isolation. His only companion in those days being the moon and other nocturnal creatures that observed him from afar.

The pops and crackles of the fire would draw him back and remind him that those days were long past. Isolation was no longer his constant companion but instead felt like an old friend only remembered in memories. The companionship of his fellow agents was new for him, but Sasha now considered all of them like family and that was comforting in its own right.

Other nights the soft wind that blew through the HQ courtyard harkened back to the chilled breeze he remembered sweeping down the sides of the mountains he grew up near. He remembered the quiet songs he could hear his mother singing as she went about her daily tasks. This wind brought no such songs with it as he quietly sat under the cold moon and listened.

Instead he could distantly hear the joyful laughter and cheers from some of the other agents as they celebrated another successful mission late into the night. Soft footsteps could be heard behind him as a familiar voice asked, “Mind if I join you?”

The wind swirled past once more, plucking a few auburn leaves from the tree nearby and sending them swirling toward the ground. A kind smile graced Sasha’s lips as he was once again reminded that this new home he found himself in, while chaotic, held a special place in his heart. The pair sat quietly enjoying the simple company and slowly they exchanged stories of many years past.

On this night though there was a different sound that soothed his nerves and helped ground his mind back in reality. A gentle, rhythmic thudding. The tell-tale heartbeat of somebody still thankfully alive. It almost wasn’t the case today. He pulled them closer and took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. Alive.

Too many times he had seen the moment when this spark of life would die. See the way that light of a soul would fade from someone’s eyes. He had caused that too many times to count and in those moments his actions were out of necessity. A necessity to survive to protect. But today he had almost failed that mission, almost lost this moment of comfort.

Here is my little Val agent OC! I still need to finish this but I was just really excited to introduce them to all of you!

This is Muse! (She/They)

They are a radiant controller with control over sound.

Signature ability (Hysteria): She can select anywhere on the in map in a certain range to create a sound cue that sounds like footsteps or gunfire.

Second ability (Sound Barrier): They can create a wall of distorted sound in a straight line across a certain distance. This wall can be shot through, but it cannot be seen through or heard through.

Third ability (War Cry): Once a round they can unleash a burst of song that will boost the movement speed and firing rate of allies nearby.

Ultimate (Siren Song): Within a certain range Muse will summon a false version of themselves and enemies that are in range of her song will be drawn to look at the false image and be pulled in towards it for several seconds.

This wasn’t an uncommon arrangement for either of them, in fact this occurred at least one or two times a week at this point. That arrangement of course being where Sova refused to go and lay down until Chamber was ready to call it as well. Even if the hunter was dead on his feet and attempting to fight sleep on the small lounging seat Chamber had in his office. He refused to leave his side. The first few times this happened it was ‘unsettling’ to say the least. Chamber was highly unused to someone wanting to be in his vicinity even if he was not paying them any mind. In the back of his mind he did find the habit to be a bit endearing though.

When he would either deem his work good enough or the guilt of keeping his partner up much longer than necessary won out he would typically get up and stretch glancing over his work briefly before going over to Sova and placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Ma muse, allons nous coucher. Hm?”

Sova cracked one sleepy eye open and instead of getting up he pulled the other down with him onto the much too small seat. Vincent let out a surprised sound, his only option being to straddle Sasha’s lap.

“Sasha, we should go to bed. Neither of us are going to be very comfortable here.”

Sasha's response was less verbal and more just pulling Vincent closer so he could comfortably rest his head on the gunsmith’s shoulder and his face nestled against his neck. Vincent shook his head and settled more comfortably, his fingers carding through Sasha’s hair slowly.

“You should have gone to bed chausseur, you seem exhausted.” Chamber said kindly, feeling comfortably warm in Sasha’s arms.

Sova ran his hands up and down Chamber’s back, occasionally pausing to try and work at the tense muscles along his path.

“I’m fine дорогой, I wanted to be here.” Sova assured placing a soft kiss along the other’s collarbone.

Chamber’s chest tightened, his heart skipping a beat, “Five more minutes, then let’s lay down.”

Tw: Suicidal thoughts

Sova sat on the edge of one of the rocky cliffs suspended above the cloud filled sky, legs hanging off the edge. The weather was finally starting to cool down a bit so in the blissful late evening there was enough of a chill in the air that it felt comforting. The moon hung above him, full and silent as it had on so many lonely nights out in the frozen tundra. He brought the cigarette to his lips, letting the smoke fill his lungs and burn his throat. An old habit from years of military service. Though he didn’t cling to its temporary comfort the way he used to as a younger man. But in the depths of his darkened mind, old habits die hard. The worst part of it all though was not being able to explain his negativity even to himself. There wasn’t anything wrong, not really anyway. Of course there were minor mistakes and problems that came up here and there, but it didn’t explain this.

His mind just delved in negativity. Exhaustion sat heavy on his shoulders. Disappointment in his eyes. Anxiety weighed down his feet. Doubt crushed his thoughts. Any small problem felt like it was going to haul him down into the depths and yet here he was. Gifted with his team’s trust and jokingly given the title of ‘golden boy’. He hated it. Of course there was a sense of pride to it, but only when he was at top form when he truly felt like he earned it. The moments when he held the codename ‘Sova’ with pride. But not now. Not when he was just himself. Not just as Sasha. No now he felt almost like he did back in the early years after getting out of the military. Lonely. Despondent. Confused. It just sat a little different with him now. Back then he would battle with rage and isolation vehemently because he had his family to look out for, a bright future of something in technical security perhaps. But now these emotions sat with him like old friends. They had become part of his being. He could barely remember what it was like without them there in some form. Yes he still had family to look out for. Some would argue even more so with the found family that is the VP, but in these darkest shadows it was hard for Sova to see it that way. The anger that festered in his mind always felt like a ticking time bomb. He never knew when the pressure would become too much. He would never lash out at a fellow agent. But on a mission he was a liability. And he knew that for certain.

He took another big pull from the cigarette, held the smoke in his lungs for a couple of moments, before slowly allowing it to escape out into the open air. The isolation was worse. He had spent so much of his life on his own. Performing as it was expected of him and asking for nothing in return. He rarely opened up enough to create any lasting friendships. The few that he had were dwindling and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Just the other day he had gotten a letter from an old comrade, informing him that one of the other people they both had worked with was killed in battle. It shattered him. One more person that he held dear lost. Another person he failed. Maybe he hadn’t failed him physically but he failed to keep in touch. He hadn’t spoken to them in over three years; when he had received a handful of letters asking how he was, what he was up to now, asking about his family, if he had finally settled down and met someone nice. Some friend he was. Just another burden to the pile that as he sat and thought on it only grew more and more. No wonder isolation had become so dear. He had brought it on himself. He took another pull from the cigarette.

He looked out across the clouds that hung below him. Highlighted in mournful moonlight. They almost looked like inviting piles of fluff. He shifted closer to the edge letting the idea wash over him. Imagining the rush, the blissful seconds of letting go completely. His mind did halt though thinking about the VP. So many memories with all of his fellow agents both good and bad. All the kind words shared with him during a job well done. An awful voice in his mind echoed forth bringing with it wave upon wave of anxious thoughts. ‘You are just a tool’, ‘Anyone can do what you do’, ‘You’ll only fail them too.’ The thoughts dug their claws into his heart and all the sudden the moon was much harder to keep in focus. Sova snuffed the cigarette.

He didn’t hear the footsteps approaching him over the screaming torment in his mind. A solid hand landed on his shoulder making sure to keep a grip on him.

“Sitting awfully close to the edge there, Sova. You’re making me nervous.” A calm and sincere voice, tinted with a charming accent said.

Sova tensed up. He had been caught, this was going to reflect horribly on him, he was going to be removed from the team. The spiraling thoughts cluttered his mind to the point he didn't realize his breathing had become unsteady and rapid.

“Sova hey, talk to me, what’s going on?”

The tight hold on his shoulder steered him to turn and look at who was speaking to him. Chamber. His throat closed up. But the fear and overwhelming anxiety shone in his eyes before he could do anything to hide it. He couldn’t even attempt to push it all aside and act as if nothing was wrong. His heart pounded in his chest as waves of desperation crashed over him. Sova searched Chamber’s eyes for anything that might confirm the fears flooding his senses. A sign that he was truly all the horrible things he thought he was. But there wasn’t anything like that. Instead warm golden eyes spoke of only concern. The hand on his shoulder did not waver, and did not let him go.

“Breath Sova.” Chamber spoke calmly, he took the archer’s hand putting in on his chest, “Follow my breathing.”

Something about his tone reached him. Somewhere in the depths of his scattered thoughts. Allowing him to follow Chamber’s instructions as he guided him through several deep breaths. After a few rounds of this Chamber could see that Sova seemed much steadier, clearly not okay, but not hyperventilating at least. He let Sova’s hand go from his chest but he kept his own hand on the archer’s shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about what that was?” Chamber asked. It was not a command and it didn’t hold the weight of someone that expected a response, it was just purely up to Sova on if he wanted to talk.

His throat was still tight but this time with shame. Shame that he once again felt like he had failed those around him. Shame that he had to be saved from his own thoughts.

“There’s no rush and you don’t have to tell me anything at all if that would be better. But I’m gonna stick around if you don’t mind.” Chamber stated, and moved to sit next to Sova on the edge.

This felt extremely confusing for Sova, he and Chamber had never exactly been close, hell they had never even really been friends. But for whatever reason the concern and the patience that the marksman was displaying felt genuine, and that was somehow comforting. Chamber reached into his vest and pulled out a cigarette of his own lighting it up with a golden metal lighter. He had done much the same that Sova had, pulling in a deep breath of the smoke and sitting with it for a moment before letting it dissipate into the air.

“You know, when I was getting recruited into the VP I thought we would have a headquarters that was a bit more centralized. Never thought about the fact that we would be living on floating islands.” There was a bit of a joking tone in his voice, and once again this felt disarming.

“But I can say this view with the stars is stunning. Never really got to see them much in Paris. Too much light pollution.” The marksman brought the cigarette to his lips again briefly. Sova looked up at the stars as well. Much like the moon they had always accompanied him through long nights. He had learned many of their stories as a way to entertain himself. Even getting to the point of coming up with his own constellations and their own stories behind them.

“Why are you doing this?” Sova asked, his voice strained and tense.

Chamber looked over at him, and there Sova saw it. His pain and struggles reflected back in stark clarity. He saw the subtle bruises that hung under Chamber’s eyes, highlighted by the pale light of the moon. His hair was a bit more messy from how he was used to seeing him. This alone strangled any half formed rebuttals his mind was scrambling to come up with.

Chamber took another pull from the cigarette, the smoke billowing past his lips on a shaky exhale.

“I know that look all too well Sova. I saw it on many of my colleagues' faces when I was in the military. I didn’t know what to do then, and unfortunately I realized too late that I may have been able to help more.” Chamber replied, keeping his eyes on Sova.

“I’m sorry.” It was said through a broken voice.

“Don’t be. You’re human Sova it is natural to experience these moments of self-doubt. It doesn’t make you less valuable, or weak, or broken. It just means you’re a man with a difficult past, and aren’t we all?” Chamber huffed in an almost self deprecating way, the cigarette moving to his lips.

These words sat heavy in Sova’s chest but still somehow soothed the ache that lingered in his ribcage. He didn’t have a response to that, just a new appreciation for Chamber and a new understanding.

They sat like that for quite awhile quietly watching the stars before Chamber snuffed his cigarette and stood up dusting his pants off.

He offered Sova his hand to help him up, simply saying, “It’s getting chilly out here, let’s go inside. I’d like to spend more time with you if you’ll allow me your company.”