#tracybcnd

[ 1 : 12 AM ➝ tracy draco ] : ... uhhhhhh [ 1 : 14 AM ➝ tracy draco ] : you ... you have nice ... legs. [ 1 : 17 AM ➝ tracy draco ] : yeah. they’re so ... slender   &   smooth. [ 1 : 18 AM ➝ tracy draco ] : ... fuck tracy   ,   i can’t do this. can’t we just   ,   kiss or something once i’m home   ?   my flight comes in tomorrow. i’ll make it up to you then  ,   i promise.

that meme where u give me a fc for an npc

@tracybcnd​

I actually have an oc for Maisie Richardson Sellers!!!

Nyree Fisher (originally created by @seriouslyaliens​/ @staysbright​, developed by me)

Nyree is a changeling. Useful to the fae for her natural ability to seamlessly travel between worlds, she was drafted into work in a shady agency. Her old blog was @thelxcksmith

History:

Nyree was born fae, and exchanged in her infancy 1843 to the Fisher family in Tullamore, Ireland. Unfortunately, this was at the eve of the Irish Potato Famine, and at its apex her family abandoned her at a children’s workhouse in Dublin. She ran away five years later and lived on the streets until at age fourteen she met a charismatic young street gang leader named Jessup, who also happened to be a changeling and helped Nyree relearn all that she had forgotten while pretending to be human. While this helped Nyree come into her own, it also meant that she could be used as a tool for criminal dealings, particularly when Jessup realized that Nyree’s gift for getting through liminal spaces was particularly useful for robberies. After realizing that Nyree could also open portals, Jessup pushed her to develop that gift as well. Another aspect of her position in the street gang was recruitment – she would bring in other young street urchins and smuggle them to the fae underworld of Dublin. Considering the number of forgotten and homeless children on the streets, she may as well have been the pied piper. The manipulation wore on Nyree, who knew that she was just selling them false hope, pulling them from one hard life into one as equally piss-poor.

When Nyree finally left Jessup, it was without warning. She disappeared to America in the 1880s, when the first great wave of immigrants came. It turned out that the fae underworld was the same anywhere one went, and Nyree made a living by smuggling and thievery. She freelanced as much as she could, only making alliances when she had to. Eventually she got caught and was imprisoned for theft and fraud. The people who got her out worked for a fae-run agency, and offered her a contract with them in exchange for her (relative) freedom. Her responsibilities would be nearly the same as those she had when she had worked for Jessup, except this time she would be provided with decidedly cozier living arrangements. In exchange for a roof over her head and a sizeable enough paycheck to keep her from seeking any other jobs, Nyree was expected to recruit “talented” young children into the organization. These children were sometimes magical or part fae, or sometimes simply humans with psychic abilities. It wasn’t her business to ask what the agency wanted with them, but she herself had understood long ago that children with “talents” were useful to nearly everyone. Children could be conditioned and groom into veritable tools, especially when they were too young or insecure to question the orders of authority figures. Fae children were particularly useful because they were the crossroads of two worlds, and therefore could pass between them with far less difficulty than pure fae or humans. Nyree got no pleasure from doing her job, but she had no choice. The agency had made it clear that for all the comfort they provided her, they owned her. She was merely their tool. And she numbed herself to the implications of her job so as not to feel compelled to disobey direct orders. That was, of course, until Gus.

Augustus Kimble was a child of the system. Funny how in over a century and across a continent, the system itself hadn’t particularly changed. His Sight caused him to see threats that for his own peace of mind were better left hidden. Nyree’s agency took particular interest in his telekinetic abilities, and when Gus was sent to an inpatient facility at the age of ten, they took it as the perfect opportunity to send Nyree in. A place like that had more than its fair share of ghosts, and they figured Nyree would take on the role of the most nurturing. Easier to draw him in via kindness when in a place to full of fear and despair. But after meeting and interacting with Gus, Nyree’s act became reality, and she couldn’t hand him to the agency. He still had so much goodness and innocence; he wasn’t jaded like her. And she didn’t want to be responsible for corrupting him. Not when he had come to look to her as his imaginary friend; his guardian. So instead, she taught him how to make it all go away. Nyree taught Gus how to block out his Sight and how to let his telekinetic powers atrophy. By the end of the process, he had not only successfully shut her out of his field of vision, but forgotten that she was real. When she reported the loss to the agency, she excused it as a dilemma of modernity – too many children were losing their Sight when adults medicated their “overactive imaginations” away. 

After her failure in the eyes of the agency, Nyree was then demoted and sent back to Dublin to work on a freelance basis. She was still under contract, but her living situation was less secure and she was once again forced to work odd jobs in less than reputable areas of both Dublin Above and Dublin Below, i.e. the fae underground and black market.

my older!fc for her is Lyndie Greenwood

with Ruth Negga as her original fc (tho tbh now with Preacher caps, I might just go back all-around)

Genuinely one of the hardest things Eve has ever gone through. She was wracked with guilt after it happened, and even though M was the one who called the shot Eve absolutely still blamed herself entirely. It didn’t matter if M, her MI6-sanctioned therapist or anyone else told her that it wasn’t her fault - that she had merely followed orders and double oh agents knew the field was a risky place - she still blamed herself for it.

I’ve written about this before but Eve suffered terribly from nightmares after his death. Most nights she relived the events and no matter how hard she tried she could never stop herself from pulling the trigger and missing her target. She had to watch James fall to his death over and over, like she was stuck in some groundhog day loop. As a result she tried to sleep as little as possible, staying up late and drinking coffee, mentally beating herself up for her mistake.

She had a mandatory leave before her desk job started, during which she went to stay with her father though never told him exactly what had happened. All he ever knew was that a colleague of hers had died unexpectedly on a trip and that Eve had been there - enough for him to understand, but also enough for him to not ask any more questions. Those two weeks felt horrifically similar to when her brother had died - long silences, with neither her nor her father knowing what to say to each other.

Eve attended his funeral (though basically only because her therapist told her she needed the closure) and sat at the back, not feeling like she deserved to be there as the person who had killed him. She didn’t talk to anyone, not even M or Tanner, and left quickly and quietly after the service was over. It took her a few weeks before she could bring herself to visit his grave, and even then she couldn’t bring herself to say anything.

@tracybcnd​: 

Savannah laughed freely, a glass of wine dangling from her fingers, her head tipped back as the man next to her smiled at her reaction. She and Tracy were standing among a group a people, most of them male, most of them (in Savannah’s opinion) there an attempt to capture the attention of Savannah’s best friend.  

They were at some party Tracy had found out about; she had tried to convince Savannah to join accompany her to a yacht party along the Seine River to ring in the New Year under the twinkling lights of the Eiffel Tower, but considering she couldn’t convince Savannah to ditch work the next day, so they were here, at some private club that probably had some links to someone on Six’s most wanted list, but Savannah was too tipsy to think about that now.  

She wasn’t drunk, not terribly anyway. She’d learned how to hold her liquor and wasn’t going to loose her senses entirely while in a place she wasn’t familiar with, but she was drunk enough to lean into Tracy and murmur, “not that you’d have any trouble finding someone fucking hot, but I’d totally be your midnight kiss if we weren’t surrounded by a bunch of guys who wanna bang you.” 

ASK ME META QUESTIONS ON CHARLIE.

does he have any. THANKS RUDE?!

tracy vc: do a better job so i'm not distracted by that mug of yours