#trueseeking

bringing her hands together in front of her body, delenn allows the sleeves to cover her palms, nodding as rangers part for her, leaving the grounds until a lone solitary finger remains.   the clothes are so different rom the sharp clean lines of the earth uniform, and the closely cropped hair curls around his neck now, but it is unmistakably him.

“    commander,    ”    that was not right, was it?    and yet, that affectionate tone could not yet wrap itself around the new title.     in a moment where everything was changing, delenn allowed herself a slip back in time.

‘ hurting others is a choice ’

           ❛ It’s unfortunate how many people would disagree. ❜    Yet for all his deceptively light tone, the glimmers of wry humor, someone who knew him better would pick up the sadness that lurked therein, the perpetual exhaustion with the world as it was. As if his very being warred at every moment with the external universe, unreconcilable. He restrained a sigh, shook his head instead. Now is not the time or place for grim mockery or flippancy.

           More seriously, more focus, he added,    ❛ But it’s not a choice I intend to make. We’ll find another way. ❜    Yet he didn’t add the words that followed in his mind: we always do. They seemed too prophetic, too dangerous in the way they must tempt fate and bring worse down upon their heads. Orders were only orders, after all, and now would not be the first, nor the last, time he bent them to his own purposes or shattered them upon the rocky shore of morality. He wondered, sometimes, how many more times he could afford to do so.

Reg couldn’t really get his head around the vastness of all this. Entire civilizations at war with each other, at serious risk of being wiped out forever. Every ship Reg was called to fix in worse shape than the next. Though worst of all was being asked to salvage the ones whose pilots hadn’t survived the trip. Just patch it up and move on, like it wasn’t a death trap now...

❛⠀ not with that attitude. ⠀❜ ⠀loathe as she is to compliment the planet that's become her prison, vala has to admit that the island-resort has its charms. sure, it is owned by a human crook who is stealing alien technology to power his... something something tech company ⸻ to be honest, she kind of drifted off during the meeting after they said she was going to go undercover as a potential seller, thinking of the cute outfits she was going to charge to the government's credit card to sell the ruse ⸻ but the beaches are amazing. just because she is on the job, doesn't mean she is not going to squeeze every single minute of pampering she can. she lives in a base under a mountain! a girl has needs! ❛⠀ and... well, i don't know how to tell you this, but i outrank you now. you are my bodyguard, so you can't go around ordering me about. that's totally the wrong vibe for this, mitchell. you're the professional, you should know this. ⠀❜

@trueseeking

emily was no stranger to roadblocks. absent a personality that welcomed strangers into her midst, her field-work was usually preceeded by a week in which she had to convince people to help her, in spite of their personal dislike or indifference of her. 'what emily lacks in personality, she more than makes up in sheer stubbornness and an attention to detail' as an advisor once wrote in a letter to an elder of a norwegian village she spent six months in to study the migration patterns of arctic fairies.

it did not bother her. not personally, not now, she merely stayed sitted, blank expression unchanging as she presented a leather-bound folder to the harpist.

vala makes a noise at the back of her throat as she steps over the dead body. cameron wasn't seeing it right now, too much of a boy-scout to think of what they gained with this death, but in her considerable experience, most successful coups started with a successful assassination attempt.

all they needed to do was find two patsies. one to take the fall, and one to install into power.