weiiraru

Eyes darting up towards the door, you could see Arthur just standing there, his eyes scanning the room, searching. Upon settling on you, his body seemed to relax ever so slightly as he plodded in, the door closing behind him. Your brow raised inquisitively. He usually had something to say. A quippy line, a how-do-you-do, a sexually charged rumble that never seemed to fail at living rent free in your head. He was quiet.

Worry was now settling in as he approached, rounding the table and coming to stand next to the couch where you were sprawled out. The soft smile that was on your lips when he came in that changed into an awkward one now faded completely as your brows gathered in concern.

"Arth-," you're startled as he dove into you. His head buried into your neck as his arms snaked in between your body and the cushions. Surprised, you lay there frozen as he inhaled deeply. The exhale that left him caused his body to melt into yours as your hands found their place around him, one hand stroking his hair as he rumbled into your nape. If he didn't adamantly argue that he wasn't, you would've told him he was very much like a cat. "Everything ok?"

A low rumble with the feeling of a 'yes' vibrated against the crook of your neck as he remained there in your hold. As soon as you were about to hug him tighter or settle in for a nap, Arthur moved, rising to prop himself up with his arms. His eyes lingered on your eyes before lowering down to your lips. Leaning down, he pressed his lips softly into yours as his forearm moved to gently cup your head and stroke your hair with his hand. Your lips moved tenderly against his as you felt his legs shift over to the ground. Pushing himself up, Arthur smiled as he stood to his full height and stretched. Your eyes still remained on your lover, concern a prevalent emotion as you noticed that he seemed to be quite energised now.

STILL without a word, Arthur moved to leave and now you were a little peeved. Sitting up, you chucked the throw pillow at him, expression now overtaken by annoyance, nailing him in the back of the head.

"Excuse me?!" he picked up the pillow and held it like a shield as if it would protect him from your slight anger. Backing slowly away towards the door, Arthur looked back every so often to check that he wasn't running into anything. You were tempted to run up to him and grab him, bite him, growl at him, anything.

Right at the threshold of your room, he finally spoke. Who knew some words were enough to make your frustrations disappear like salt in water

"I love you," the gravely timbre of his voice soothing you like honey on your tongue. He gave a smile and a slight raise of his brows like a peace offering. You couldn't help but smile back as he set the pillow down on the table by your door.

"I love you too you bastard," you shook your head as you huffed in amusement as you collapsed back into the couch. "But don't you dare come in again all silent in the future. I will eat you alive."

You heard the door close before opening again and your ears strained to listen.

"I wouldn't mind if you bit into me, savouring me like a tasty morsel. I'd wear it like a badge if I could. Unlike you, always covering up all my marks," you shot up from the couch like a bullet face flushed as you turned to the door where Arthur stood, a cheeky grin on his face. "I expect some teeth tonight, love."

With your face burning and your jaw hanging so low that it probably dug through the earth and went to the core of the planet, you were stunned beyond belief as your lover chuckled and left.

{you're in love,} a voice brought him out of his thoughts. turning to face the speaker, arthur rubbed the back of his neck as he stopped spinning his sword

"i...may be," he chuckled, turning his attention back to you, watching as you shoved past amir to chase after quincy. after grappling with the sniper, you ultimately triumphed and made some quick gestures, rude ones to the offending protoframe, on the device before stuffing it back into your pocket. some words were exchanged before you turned to see him looking at your direction. he tensed at your sudden gaze. hand ceasing to fidget with his sword that he was absentmindedly picking away at the pommel of.

{you're absolutely smitten,} eleanor huffed in amusement. {would it kill either of you to be honest?}

"i.." his voice faltered as he let the words die in his mouth. they were simple words to make sounds for and to let out, but it was all too heavy for him to just say. he couldn't do it to you. he shouldn't.

"that wouldn't be right," his face strained at making a smile that reflected how strained his heart felt in saying those words regarding his... fuck. he let his head hang and began to study the cracks in the floor. he didn't know what to call you. he knew, but he didn't. his heart ached to call you his, but you weren't. he couldn't just call you a comrade in arms, that was too far removed. he was painfully in love and he knew it. hell at this point everyone knew it but just refused to say anything about it. maybe even you knew and was cruelly letting him suffer in his inability to confess. shifting his gaze towards his feet, he shuffled them against the tiled ground and sighed. "wouldn't be right to them."

eleanor only looked at him before exhaling heavily and shaking her head. {one of these days they'll be out of your grasp and you'll have to live with the thought that you couldn't at least attempt trying to tell them.}

will definitely get phantom pains from his eye

won't say much about it and would probably try not to interact much with others. sometimes the pain will just make it feel more like a migraine than a phantom pain. doesn't want to be and definitely won't admit that he kind of enjoys being cared a lot for when in this state.

has immense respect for those who are skilled with the blade

sure it has to do with the fact that he is a swordsman, but he still greatly admired those who can wield a sword and wield it well as the sword is a very intimate weapon. he'd probably want to compare notes or at least observe from afar.

probably swears whenever he gets hurt/grazed/hit, but will often refuse to admit that he is indeed hurt and requires medical attention

though a small amount of it has to do with his pride, most of it is due to his desire to not make anyone worry. he'll probably be the type that's bleeding out and still fight whoever's trying to patch him up because someone else has got a paper cut.

would growl in immense frustration

if extremely frustrated from being upset over something or someone, he may growl/yell and grumble as he tries not to rip his hair out.

has definitely dyed his grey hairs once but then decided it was too much work and lived with it.

came out of his mild irritation over getting grey hairs so soon, but he soon realised the process of dyeing it was more frustrating. he hasn't failed to notice the few strands of grey mixing in with his longer black hair. he's gotten over amir and quincy calling him old man or gramps even though velimir is the oldest one of them all.

likes to nurse his drink and just watch the ice melt half the time

while he will sometimes have a drink here and there or even get drunk under the table by some of the others, he probably enjoys just sitting with the drink. sure, a cold one may be nice, but spending some time to quiet his mind and slow down and take a pause from it all and just watch ice melt kind of resets his mind and lets him keep himself from going crazy.

would play with his s/o's hands

just watching their fingers intertwined in his, playing with it absentmindedly, or just seeking out his partner's hand to just hold onto (to make sure that they're still there and not a dream that he'll wake up from and see the clock ticking towards death and they were never there to begin with)

as rough and tough as he is, he's definitely a big puppy

- all written work has been made by me and is NOT open to ai feeding, copying, or any form of reproduction. - characters (that aren't my oc) are obviously NOT my original characters - characters (that are my ocs) are mine and are NOT open to use by others unless thoroughly discussed - racism, sexism, classism, ableism, religionism, etc. is NOT tolerated, kindly: fuck off. - harassment of any kind is NOT tolerated - minors (17 and younger) will be blocked if discovered, shame on you if you fake your age, but that is out of my control if I am blatantly deceived. it is under my OWN discretion to choose not to interact with you though if i feel you are not 18+ | ageless blogs will be considered as a minor - bottom line: you think you'll get punched irl for it? don't say it and just leave.

what my writing WILL CONTAIN

- jaded. old. png. men. yes. please. 'nough said - angst. i love angst and grief and the struggle and strain of life - fluff, comfort, smut - violence, gore (to a relatively mild degree, if it pushes a bit more past mild then i WILL add an extra warning), death/loss - varying gender pairings and 1:1 or poly pairings

what my writing WILL NOT CONTAIN

- extremely detailed and graphic depictions of rape, abuse, violence - nsfw: adult/minor (aging up counts imo), incest/stepcest, foot play, bathroom play, blood play, weapon play - furries, wlw (idk mentally my neurons can't fire to be able to write these well. i tried. it didn't come out great.)

i take requests but take NOTE

ARKNIGHTS

Ulpianus

Clicks and Whistles | Ch 5 | Ongoing | ⟁♥⊠

Mlynar

Nowell

Matsukiri

Sankta Miksaparato

Harold

Hellagur

Chongyue

Totter

Tin Man

Eikthyrnr

Elysium

Tailwind | Ch ? | Writing | ❖

RAINBOW SIX SIEGE

Doc

All in Small Doses | Ch 2 | Paused | ⟁♥✧

Lion

FINAL FANTASY XIV

HONKAI STAR RAIL

It would be a lie to say that her head felt like it was bloating from information being constantly blasted everyday at her. Rhea held her hand to her forehead as her eyes scanned the files on her desk. Flipping through the pages, the frown on her forehead deepened before clearing as she leaned back in her chair and exhaled heavily. Her gaze moved over to the large tank as Gladiia floated there with sensors attached to different points of her body. It was a miracle the Hunters survived as they had. They had a far better resilience than the average person, or operator for that matter, but they weren’t immortal. They knew that better than anyone, yet they continued to push themselves to seek a solution to keep the horrors of the sea at bay.

“Did you chart the data yet, Rhea?” Antonio asked, the perro swinging by her desk, a number of files tucked under his arm and a cup of some hot tea in his other hand. The Bolivarian had told her what it was, but her mind was grasping at everything at the moment to remember much of anything. She was surprised that she was even coherent at this point.

A yawn ripped through her as she nodded while simultaneously covering her mouth. The brown-haired perro chuckled and smiled sympathetically at the feline.

“Go get some rest. You’ve done enough work and stayed here past your normal hours.”

“I still have to go check up on some of my patients.”

“Don’t run yourself into the ground. You’re already quite fatigued. If it gets any worse I’m sending a word to the higher ups and getting you out of this lab… Rather out of the med bay. We’re liking you here quite a lot. You’re doing great work.”

Rhea laughed weakly as another yawn tore through her as she stretched, her tail straightening behind her before curling back under her chair. The perro coworker chuckled at her yawn before heading off to his desk.

The feline stood up as she cleaned up her desk, pushing the papers into the folder before closing it and pushing her chair in. As she was exiting the lab, she felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. Turning, she noticed Gladiia’s blood red eyes lazily trained on her. For what reason, she did not know, but she nodded both in greeting and farewell as she left.

She admired the Abyssal Hunters. They were practically guardians of the sea, constantly protecting everyone from the horrors. Charting the waters, fighting the seaborn, scouting their movements, they were all things that went unnoticed. No one really ever thinks about it, but it only meant that their work was just that much more important and they were doing it exceptionally. There was definitely more to it than she knew, but that’s at least how she saw it.

Taking the elevator down, she leaned against the cool metal walls, another yawn finding its way out of her. She rubbed the tears out her eyes as the elevator stopped and opened to let in a few operators. Her mind wandered as she watched the numbers change on the little display screen of the elevator as it descended.

Looking down lazily at her phone, she noticed the reminder on it and her ears visibly perked up in attention. One of her best friends was coming back from a year long scout mission. Many of the operators and medics teased the two and often called them a couple when the both of them had clear preferences for men and Sol wasn't Rhea's type. Far from it...though she didn't exactly know what her “type” was either. She knew she had a preference, but most of her affection and attraction to someone stopped at “Wow, they seem cool” and “They have great features. It's pleasing to look at” and “They dress sharp.” Maybe her thing was when people dressed nice.

Her mind went to her promise with her friend and she couldn't help but wear a small smile in excitement. It was planned from a long time ago when the landship had projected its course to the oceanside that they would meet and explore (safely as she had repeatedly assured her brother) the area around so that Sol could have the time to relax and draw the scenery and Rhea could for once go out and get some much needed rest and enjoy nature for a bit. Then they would go off to one of the Iberian towns to explore their trades, food, and whatever it was they would find from being there.

As soon as the elevator door opened her phone rang and a nurse that stood before her dropped his phone to end the call and usher her over to the medbay.

“What's going on?” Worry buried its sharp claws in her brow as she skipped to keep up with the nurse whose long strides equated to several of her own.

“Emergency. Some kind of ambush? A fight? Either way it's a team that's in danger. Lots of major casualties, the ones with minor casualties reported a number of their team dead, and well.. their mental state isn't doing much better for most of them. I'm surprised that any of them were able to remain sane from all the trauma and hemorrhaging I saw.”

A chill ran through the feline as she picked up the pace and her stomach twisted in fear. It was like a bad omen. While she didn’t believe in omens or superstitions, the fact that the day was going a little too well and uneventful felt odd.

"Bring them in!"

"Get some blood brought over!"

"What happened? What did they say they got hurt by or with?"

"I-I don't know, I was just sent to keep watch and heal them, but it's taking everything right now for me to try and keep them alive, but it's grim."

Rhea turned the corner, concern worn on her face like a badge as she heard the tell-tale signs of emergency patients. The first thing she noticed was the blood streaked floor and people rushing here and there to bring bags of blood, some gauze, a mass of healers congregating trying to keep someone alive, and a few nurses rushing by to clean up what they could of the bloody floor. She was exhausted, but her mind clicked awake into autopilot as she watched the hustle and organised chaos. Immediately, she stepped towards the desk and cleaned her hands before putting on some fresh gloves and scanning the room for where she could help.

One of the medics turned away for a second, eyes locking onto hers before waving for her to help. Coming close, she had to keep herself from freezing at the man who lay before her bleeding out with several medics casting spells on him to keep him alive. Sol. Her mind raced a million miles in a second, screaming and roaring at how unfair it was, but her duty as a doctor came first and washed it away in the next half second. Gritting her teeth, she focused and examined his body. His arms were covered in lacerations, burns blanketing much of his right side, and a good portion of his left arm, but these injuries paled in comparison to the severe trauma in his torso. Several healers were trying their best to keep it sealed and heal it as medics tried to stop some of the bleeding and try and patch it together.

"How much was given for the pain," she asked mentally cursing as her voice shook, eyes scanning the charts before darting to the movement on the gurney. Sol's brows furrowed and jaw clenched as he struggled to remain sane from the pain. At her voice, he opened his eyes and grabbed at her coat, hissing as his raw, burnt hand tightened at the cloth. His breath fogged the oxygen mask as his eyes focused on her.

“We gave–”

"Get this to someone in the labs then the Doctor or Kal’tsit then after. Fuck! I'm sorry I had to take something dangerous like this, but—" he interrupted the nurse as his own pain interrupted him. The Sarkaz grimaced and writhed slightly as he fumbled with his pocket with his right hand before ultimately giving up. The murmurs of the healers and medics didn't elude her vigilant ears as they exchanged glances with each other, Sol, then her. "It was necessary. I at—shit!—least have this much. Breast pocket. I'm—sorry we couldn't talk more. I'm glad I could—see you one last time."

Breathing was becoming a grueling task for him, she knew he was in far more pain than he let on. Every fibre in her being screaming at her to save him. To grab whatever medicine she could, to call upon all the medic operators and doctors. But she knew that he was already on a fast one-track runway to death's door, not that it made her feel any less distressed about it.

"Don't talk. I got you," she whispered, gloved hand gently holding his as she looked at the graphs on the monitor. A grimace streaked across her face as he gripped it tight from the pain. He tried to laugh, but the humorous sound stuttered into painful coughing with blood accompanying it. Swiping away the blood from his chin, Rhea dismissed a healer and medic pair and heightened the dosage of the painkillers and anesthesia using a device to simulate a healer as she drew closer to his side.

"We—were supposed to go and explore—in a few days," his words barely carried with each wheezing breath. Smiling weakly at him, she nodded.

"Guess I won't have my chaperone keeping me away from trouble," she tried to joke, bile climbing up her throat as he closed his eyes and whimpered quietly. Tears welled in her eyes, but it didn't break, bubbling and holding as she tried to keep at least the last bit of his breathing moments cheery.

"You'll probably stumble your way into it and I can't do the motherly swoop in and yank you from it," he chuckled before poking at her hand. Brows raising, Rhea looked at him then at where he was looking. Her hand left his and reached into his pocket to grab the small journal. As her hand reached in once more, she felt her fingers touch something cool while she felt his chest stutter before stilling completely. Standing there, her hand still in his pocket, Rhea gripped the cool item and closed her eyes, turning her face away as the first tears broke. Biting down on her bottom lip, she tensed as her stomach heaved in and out as she tried her best to keep herself from hyperventilating. Her chest wanted to shatter into a million pieces for the nurses to sweep up and dispose.

She didn't need to look to know. No one needed to tell her. She felt her strength rush out of her like the tears that chased each other down her cheeks. She had felt it slip through her fingers. He was beyond saving and they both had known it. In one of their more serious conversations, the both of them had talked about such a situation, never thinking that such a thing would happen to either of them any time soon. Yet here they both were. The last breath of life from her closest friend, as dear as a brother, having ticked its last and being claimed by Death's cold embrace as Grief pressed her freezing lips to the feline's heart, making her seize and collapse, clutching onto his charred hand. The remaining medic and healer quietly dismissed themselves as her body shook violently from the loss. The loss of someone who she had gotten to know in the grimmest hours of her past. It wasn’t appropriate, but she couldn’t give a damn. 

Screams of agony gurgled and surged through her throat, yet nothing but silence and a choked gasp exited her mouth. Tears streamed down her face as she wrapped her coat tightly around her. She couldn't do anything. She felt useless. She wanted him back. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair for him to run off on missions and come back hurt while she remained safe only injuring herself with a slight paper cut or stubbed toe at best. It was unforgivable that he went on a life threatening mission and barely crawled back while she remained on the landship doing nothing but wrap injuries, read papers, draw blood, and enter data. She felt useless for not being able to fight. She couldn't do anything but watch and pray for safety as operators were sent out. It wasn't fair. She wanted him back. Gripping tightly around his hand, she wished it was all a terrible dream and that she would open her eyes and come down to the Emergency Ward to see him with a minor cut to his arm that came from him playing with his dagger and fumbling it. Yet as much as she wished and prayed for it all to be a dream, she knew she couldn't ignore the looming truth and settled over her. She wanted him back.

She felt a hand gently rest on her shoulder and another pry her fingers from Sol's hand. Looking up at the trio of undertakers, Rhea shuffled to the side and weakly watched as they tucked Sol's body into the gurney and covered his body with a cloth. It was difficult to talk. It was like her jaw was stuck together with glue. She didn't want to talk, she didn't want to do anything. She just wanted to escape. Everything felt far too close. The air around felt like it was choking her. Rhea felt numb as they unhooked Sol from the various tubes, cleaned up some of the blood, and then tapped away at a screen to which her device buzzed quietly in her back pocket. She didn't need to take it out to know what the notification was. She already knew it as she watched the undertakers wheel the cloth-covered gurney away. She already knew as she felt him breathe his last. She already knew when she saw him on the gurney bleeding out like a fountain from the hole in his stomach.

She lost a friend. She lost a brother. She lost herself.

Hearing the sound of metal tapping against each other, she looked up to see a figure shuffling by the gauzes and bandages. Rhea stood up while wiping her tears with the back of her hand and stuffing the booklet and trinket into her coat pocket.

"Can I help you?" She cringed internally at the slight turbulence in her voice as she approached the person. They stopped before turning around to face her. Rhea's eyes felt puffy and she hadn't cared to look carefully at the person when she approached but as soon as she looked up and he turned, she recognised him instantly from his crimson eyes. If it weren't for the loss of her friend, her heart would've been at her throat. Lucky for her, her heart felt like it was stabbed repeatedly and was disintegrating in the mix of bile and stomach acid. He scanned her intently for a few seconds before nodding and motioning towards the packaged gauzes.

"Oh. Operator Ulpianus. Are you injured?" She asked, far less concerned than she maybe could’ve been, motioning for him to take a seat as she scrunched her cheeks, the dried tear stains cracking from the motion. Looking back at the man who had now taken off his cloak and gloves and rolled up his sleeve, he shook his head and quietly offered his arm and pointed at one of the various veins that was raised in the crook of his elbow.

"Blood test..?" A nod followed promptly to her question to which she strained to offer a smile and sifted through the trays to grab a syringe, some alcohol swabs, and some vials. He waited patiently and watched her movement as she reached to tie the tourniquet tight around his arm. Ulpianus was there when she was crying holding the deceased patient’s hand and saw her burdened with grief. He knew she wasn’t alright and decided to not say much, though he never really said much anyways.

Silence, save for the shuffling of feet, quiet clicking of keys, pens, and clipboards, and movement of other medics and healers through the ward, hovered over the two of them as she blankly watched the vials fill with blood, swapping the vials in a mindless autopilot once one got full and the Abyssal Hunter watching her draw his blood into the vials.

Drawing the last vial, she took out the needle and placed a square of gauze on the spot the needle had exited. Rhea nodded after taping the gauze to his arm and began to clean up after herself.

"That should be it. We'll contact you after we've run the tests. Is there anything else you need?" He stood and grabbed his cloak, throwing it over his shoulders, and held onto his glove. To his head shake of no, she responded with a weak smile, her entire body suddenly feeling weak and exhausted. A quiet and frail word of farewell left her lips as she held the tray and turned to leave, but was stopped by a light grip to her arm.

"Are you alright?" His quiet voice breaking through the turbulence of her grief stricken mind. Rhea could feel the emotions well up like a massive wave as she looked back at him. No, she wanted to tell him. No, she wasn't. She wanted to drop the tray that she was holding onto so tight that her knuckles went white and bury herself into him to hide from the grief and to keep herself sane. She wanted very much to ask him to hold her even for a second, but she knew she couldn't. She shouldn't. It wouldn't be right of her to burden him or anyone for that matter with such an event.

"I'm fine, thank you for your concern," she responded, offering yet another weak smile before nodding a goodbye and leaving him there, watching her leave.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, a trained smile plastered to her face as she went about her tasks. Rhea's coworkers had to seize her by the shoulders and take her card from her to clock her out before pushing her into the elevator to end the workday for her. They had tried to earlier, but she was adamant about finishing the job for the day. Since then her coworkers had been constantly checking the time, anxious for the hands to call for her to take her leave. She was pressed to go back to her room and get some much needed rest, but her feet had other plans as they took her to her quiet place.

Opening the door, she was met with a rush of cool wind as she slowly climbed the narrow steps and stepped out onto the small balcony. She had stumbled upon this place while exploring with Sol. It was hidden behind several pipes and looked similar to the drab walls save for the small handle on the side of the door which she had gotten her jacket caught in.

The fresh sea air filled her senses as she approached the railing and settled to sit, legs slotted through the railing, dangling off the edge of the landship, and her head leaning on the cool metal. Her mind was blank as she stared at the shore a distance away. Usually, she felt calm or amazed by the beauty whenever she stared out at whatever scenery was before her from this place, but today it just felt empty without her friend to be there to sit there with her. Hell, it was empty because he was dead. Who was she kidding about him just “not being there”, his body was being cremated as she sat there.

The wind picked up, cold air cutting at her cheeks and causing her hair to whip around her face. Rhea didn't know if it was her hair catching in her eyes that caused the tears to fall again or if the emotions were unknowingly bubbling over, but she slumped there against the railing, letting the tears fall regardless.

The air cut through her clothes and she shivered despite having worn a warm shirt and pants. At this balcony, the air always seemed to find a way to send a chill through her. She pulled her coat tight against herself before feeling the filled coat pocket tap against her leg. Looking down, she fished for the journal and slowly thumbed through the pages. Almost every so often between the lines or filling a spread were illustrations of creatures and things she didn't seem to recognise. It always filled her with fascination just how detailed and quickly Sol seemed to draw things. She stopped at the last used page where the writing seemed rushed and her mind went to him.

"What were you thinking when you were writing all of this?" She murmured, staring at the page before the wind fluttered and pushed the pages a bit further to the last page of the journal. "How scared were you?"

Reading his neat handwriting at the back of the booklet, she turned her attention to the other item that she was left with. Taking it out, her eyes scanned it as she tried to piece together what it was from his written description. It was a thin almost cylindrical shard, a deep blue colour on one side developing in a gradient to a lighter shade of blue with veins of red streaking through it. It was pretty and the light caught on it beautifully as she held it between her fingers. It was a crystal he had found while exploring the environment around. It was beautiful compared to the cruel mission that Sol was sent on. Cradling it in her hands, she held the last two remaining items from Sol as she sat there wanting to dissolve like sea foam until she felt okay to function again.

Shivering once more, she unconvincingly told herself to get up and go inside, but her body refused to move. Energy completely spent. So she sat there. Shivering. Numb. From both cold and emotional exhaustion, until she felt a warmth wrap around her in the form of a black cloak. Her ears flicked gently at the feeling.

It took a second for it to fully register as she stared down at it before she whirred around banging her head on the top of the railing. Wincing, Rhea rubbed her head as she looked at the figure that had settled to lean against the metal beams towards the corner of the balcony’s more shadowed portion. She recognised those unmistakable red eyes and silver hair along with the masked lower face.

"Ul-Ulpianus? I'm so sorry. Did I invade your privacy? I should have checked first if anyone was here," the feline rambled as she stood up, holding the cloak around her and beginning to take it off. "You didn't need to. I'll leave."

"It's fine," he responded, making her stop. The hunter wasn't a man of many words and whenever he did talk, his voice was low and husky and yet it strangely felt warm to her, just like how the cloak felt warm around her, almost like a hug. "And stay....please."

Maintaining eye contact for a little longer, she silently adjusted the cloak to wrap around her properly. Who was she to deny warmth after being in the cold for however long she was sat there. The cloak was long and if it weren't for the wind, she'd be seeing the edges of it laid out on the ground around her like a flower. She felt small, but comforted in the big cloak that seemed to swallow her whole. She wondered how it would feel being held in a hug—.

"Are you truly alright?"

Her heart stopped as her hands fiddled with the worn leather cover of the journal and pressed her thumb against the pointed edge of the crystal. She could feel the emotions welling up behind the wall she tried to put up.

"I'm, yes. I am, I… I just needed some air and I should be back in commission. I—"

"Your rambling is filled with lies," there was a slight edge to his voice. It sounded strained and looking back at his face, she noticed the slight lines creasing on his brow. Why was he so upset? She was the one who had lost someone, but why was he concerned for her about it? When did he care? Confusion gave way to anger as she herself wore a frown and scoffed.

"When did you become so heartfelt to begin caring?" Stepping closer to him, she shoved the journal and crystal into her coat pocket and shook her head, laughing in disbelief. "You're such a saint aren't you? Just going off, fighting off things, and coming back all uninjured and daring to try and feel some— do you find yourself feeling better than I am? Better than others?"

It wasn't right for her to unleash her baseless rage all on him, but the floodgates had opened. Her mind was too tired and her basic humanity too weak and thus unable to keep it all contained. He was a good operator. He had no involvement in the mission her deceased friend was in, but the words just kept coming, each laced with hate. But it wasn't for him. It wasn’t for anyone. It was just hate. She knew it wasn't right for her to direct her anger at him, as she drew near, her gaze fixed on the checker plate floor.

"If you're so good and so strong and so... great," her voice broke as she dropped her head against his chest. Beating her head several times against him, the tears she thought she had ran out of came running to the edges of her eyes. The detail of his clothing blurred as her tears consumed her vision. One tear far too weighty and unable to remain in the craddle of her eye crashed into the silent hunter's shirt, slowly soaking into the material. Voice now barely above whisper. "If you're so great... why didn't you save him."

Ulpianus remained still, watching her strands of dark hair move to the will of the wind. They both knew that his mission and her friend’s mission were two entirely different ones, but he stood there, finding it strange that she found him to be someone to lean against and find comfort in. Then again, he was the one who had offered it and was also the only one there. Unsure of what else to do, he hesitantly laid a hand on her back. She flinched, her breath stopping for a second, wary, before it continued as he brought her head closer to him and stroked her hair. Looking off to the ocean, he breathed quietly, making his breathing steady to not jostle her. His mind wandered off to the rhythm of the waves as the smell of the sea washed over him. Closing his eyes, he began to quietly sing.

She froze as he heard a note thrum through her skull and her ears picked up on the sound. If it weren't for her exhaustion she would've thrown herself off of him and stared in a way that was more than likely rude at the fact that he sang. His voice was smooth while still maintaining a level of grit in his voice when he talked. Beautiful was a poor word to use to describe how it sounded. A part of her wished she would have heard it earlier and that she could hear it forever. It was comforting, hearing the thrum of his voice through his chest as she pressed her ear closer to it, letting it soothe her. They stood that way for a while, the sun, now a fiery orange, throwing its last rays of warmth as the cool of night began to chase it away.

A chime sounded, bringing Ulpianus' attention down to the medic who sighed, stepping back and away from him. Fishing out her phone, she stared at the screen, fingers furiously typing away at it, a frown tightening with each press. That was, until the hunter pressed his gloved finger to the bunched up point. Her puffy, bloodshot eyes looked up at him weakly as her typing stopped. Sheepishly, she darted her eyes from one side to the other going in a hurried zig-zag down to avoid his constant gaze.

"Sorry... and thank you for being here... and letting me borrow your cloak. Sorry for crying all over you," she mumbled, eyes not going up any higher than the tops of his boots where his pants tucked into. She probably looked worse than roadkill. Shrugging off the cloak from around her shoulders, Rhea loosely folded it before offering it back to its rightful owner who only looked back at her. "Thank you.... I'll... be going now."

Though she was still avoiding eye contact, the hunter nodded as he took the cloak from her, his gloved hand brushing her bare ones. With a quick bow, the feline quickly scurried away, nearly running into the door as she left. A small huff of amusement escaped Ulpianus as he watched the door long after she had left. He looked down at the cloak he had lent her and unfolded it to wear it himself, but paused as he studied the material. What took over him to make him offer it to her? He knew she frequented this balcony as he himself would be resting there in the shadows before he'd hear her arrive with her friend. A light frown drawn by thought grew on his face as he tried to figure it out. He did something that wasn't typical of him, but the air felt a little warmer around him even as night was drawing close. The Abyssal Hunter moved to the door and made his way back into the landship as a thought ran through his mind.

Maybe it isn't that bad of a feeling to have.

“So it was some kind of freak occurrence?” The Doctor asked, arms crossed as Ulpianus stood before him, hat and half consumed water bottle in hand.

“No. I wouldn't call it that. Although I've been able to work through most of their appearances, they mostly have an agenda of their own. Being constantly vigilant about their appearances is important. What's slightly unusual is that this section was said to have been cleared by your operators,” Ulpianus firmly spoke, eyes trained on the Doctor who was sifting through some files pausing on a report before looking up. He continued to watch as the Doctor's eyes narrowed while pulling the report out and tossing it onto his already cluttered desk.

“They are also your fellow operators, Ulpianus,” the man corrected, sharp blue eyes clashing with Ulpianus' scarlet ones. “Yes, you may be an Abyssal Hunter, but you've sworn your services here as well. You too are now an operator of Rhodes. I shall remind you that they are your fellow operators now.”

Silence hung heavy in the office with only the sound of the air conditioning humming to keep the temperature to the preferences of the Kjerag Doctor. With a heavy sigh and a slump in his seat, the Doctor closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his temples.

“Regardless, thank you for the report. Please see to your injuries and get some rest. Turn the lights off as you're leaving will you?” Ulpianus nodded as the Doctor got up and collapsed onto the couch. The hunter switched the lights off and opened the door to exit, stopping only at the sound of the Doctor asking for another request. “Maybe lock the door while you're at it.”

With the lights turned off and door locked behind him, Ulpianus stared at the bottle in his hand as he moved towards his room. Maybe he should get a bit of rest before getting his shoulder checked again. Though he knew he was fine, for the sake of the medics’ peace of mind, he should probably go visit the facility to ensure that he truly was fine. As he got onto one of the elevators, he was reminded of the medic who threatened to break his limbs if he didn't take his cloak and shirt off for her to attend to his wound. She cared not for the fact her ear was slightly nipped or the fact that the small cut on her cheek had small beads of drying blood and was instead aggressively training her focus onto him. How one could be so easily selfless was a mystery to him. To him, being selfish is how he has stayed alive for so long. The resources he had for food, first-aid, and information were all things he kept to himself. They were his to keep and his to decide on if to share or not, with the choice being easy in not sharing it.

Ulpianus stopped just outside his door to see a familiar face waiting beside it. Without a word he opened the door and his fellow hunter followed behind him with the door quietly sealing shut behind them both.

“How many?” Gladiia shook her head as Ulpianus pointed at the pitcher on his table. Her eyes quietly followed her senior as he set his hat and water bottle down on the table and took off his cloak, setting it on a coat rack. His room was simple, having left it to only include the furniture it originally came with. Gladiia frowned and looked around the simple room. While it wasn't different from her own, she at least made a few changes to make it feel like ‘home’ for her. From the looks of it, Ulpianus didn't even seem to have changed the position of the table, that could be moved, even centimetre. His wrapped shoulder didn't go unnoticed, but she chose to stick with her first question.

“Maybe upwards of 70,” came the response from the bathroom.

Ulpianus looked in the mirror at the wrapping of his new wound before taking his mask off and unravelling the bandaging. He frowned and his jaw tightened slightly as he peeled the gauze that stuck to his wound. Tossing it into the trash, he turned to start the shower and continued the conversation

“Mostly lesser creatures but there were 20 or so mature and intelligent ones. Didn't seem to have a leader,” he stripped completely and stepped in. Feeling the water rush over him, he closed his eyes and let it run in rivers over his skin. The hunter opened his eyes slightly, the water catching on his eyelashes before the droplets grew bigger and the hairs couldn't handle their weight and let the droplets fall. Quickly washing the dust, guts, and grime off of him, Ulpianus waited for more questions from the huntress, hearing none, he let the silence continue. He admired her for the tenacity and discipline she had despite their conflicting beliefs and only knew her questioning now was in the shared desire to protect and keep the seaborn at bay. Shutting the tap off, he heard her voice again.

“Any other oddities?”

“None,” reaching for a towel, he dabbed the water off his face before stepping out of the shower. Towelling himself dry, he slipped into a pair of black pants before coming out in search of a shirt. Gladiia watched as he reached into his closet for a change of clothes as he tossed the towel over his good shoulder.

“Any injured?” Her eyes bore into his shoulder as he tossed a shirt onto his bed and pulled out a first-aid kit to redress his wound. 

“Small cuts and bruises, an operator lost his leg,” he dabbed some antiseptic and salve onto his wound, using the mirror in front of his closet to check on the back of his shoulder. Seeing nothing, he returned his focus to the front and lightly pressed a gauze to the wound. Dressing one's own wounds was something the hunters all knew how to do, be it for themselves or others, they learned those lessons quickly to preserve themselves, so it came easy for him to do.

“And what of you?” Ulpianus pulled a metre out from the roll before putting the roll into his mouth. His red eyes looked up at Gladiia's own red ones through the mirror before travelling back down to his wound. Holding down the gauze with a hand from his injured side, he wrapped it carefully before choosing to respond.

“Nothing of concern,” the roll grew smaller and smaller as it wrapped around the wound and secured itself around his upper arm before running out and being tucked into one of the layers.

Gladiia frowned as she watched him faintly struggle with getting the injured shoulder through his shirt due to the bandaging. With himself now dressed, he brought the towel up to his hair and began to dry it as Gladiia continued to stare.

The whale hunter tossed his towel into the hamper and lay down on his bed, his good arm sliding under his pillow as he breathed deeply and shut his eyes.

“Get it-”

“Seen. Yes. After I get some rest,” came the muffled reply.

The only sound remaining was the quiet thrum of the landship and Gladiia's boots clicking on the floor as she left the room. Then it was silent. Ulpianus sighed heavily, burying his face deeper into his pillow, shifting slightly to lessen the dull pain in his arm. Maybe he'd sleep for a few hours or through to the next day, it'd wholly depend on how long he let himself rest. With how quickly sleep came, he knew he’d at least get an hour.

The alarm blared from her desk causing the feline to tap blindly in search of the button to silence the sound. Finding it, she pressed down to mute it before snaking her arm back under her lab coat. As much as she wished to get some more rest she had patients to attend to and she wasn't about to let them all get thrown under the responsibility of someone else. She hated burdening anyone else with her own work. Though she knew she would benefit from some rest, she couldn’t just leave it to someone else. Rhea would rather die than let that happen. Prying her eyes open, the feline stared at the ceiling as she stretched her arms and legs out. A yawn fought its way through her system and easily won the battle against her groggy self.

Sitting up in her seat, the feline shivered slightly as her coat pooled at her lap. It took her a second to come to as she sat there, blinking slowly, vision unfocused on the room before her. With a knock at her door, Rhea snapped alert. Instantly getting out of her seat and pushing it to a corner with a foot as she wore her coat and smoothed out her hair, she ushered in the nurse who entered with a list of patients and an expression of concern.

“Are you alright?” The nurse asked, eyes trained on the band aid that was placed a centimetre away from the minor wound that lay visible on her cheek. “I was told you had just come in from a mission. Wouldn’t it be best if you got some rest?”

“Ugroza,” Rhea took the clipboard from the ursus nurse and looked over it as she addressed him. “You know how I am with letting others take on my burden.”

“It’s not a burden if we have a number of other medics and nurses and doctors and interns here available to take them on!”

“Patients aren’t a battle.”

“You know what I mean.”

“That I do, but mind the language you use.”

“That’s besides the point! Why not let someone else take it on? I can do your rounds for you. You just go get some rest? You need it.”

“I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine.”

The bear gripped her arm and turned her around to face him properly. Despite her being of smaller stature than most everyone on the landship, Rhea seemed to hold a presence that most in the medbay could not ignore. Ugroza was one of the few individuals that could set it aside and point her out for her bullshit. As much as she appreciated him for it, she often found herself wishing he would just let her have her way. Then again, if he did, she probably would have died a number of times years ago. The male only stood there, face blank as he watched the feline try and squirm out of his grip before sighing loudly and giving up.

“Fine. I’ll do half of this list. I’ll leave the rest to you.”

“Three.”

“A quarter.”

“Three.”

“Seven?!”

“Three.”

“...Fou-”

“Three.”

“Fine! Three! Gods!”

Rhea threw her hands up in the air in exasperation as Ugroza let go of her and took the clipboard from her hand before she accidentally decked someone that was happening to pass by.

“But I’m going to visit that one on the bottom of the list. You’re not making me change my mind. I will fight you over it.”

Ugroza noticed as her face turned grave, eyes set towards the floor, but distant as she led the way to the first patient. He knew that look. It was one she wore whenever she felt personal responsibility over situations, afflictions, and injuries that happened to patients even if it were out of her control. There was no changing her mind on letting her visit those patients. The first and last time the bear had done so, he was flipped over her body and thrown onto the floor with the wind knocked out of him.

“Fine with me.”

“Good.”

“I’m so sorry,” Rhea apologised, bowing low before the operator who lay on the bed, hooked up to a few IVs and monitors to ensure none of the infection remained. Shame, guilt, and frustration stabbed at her eyes, bringing forth tears threatening to spill out as she intensely studied the floor to distract herself from the wave of emotions threatening to claim her. There were various knicks and scrapes on the floor from various gurneys, IV drips, wheelchairs, and the like running in and out of the room.

“It’s alright, you couldn’t have prevented it. I was prepared for any situation. Even death,” the operator chuckled lightly, shifting slightly in his bed. “I can now take some time off to laze around now.”

The operator’s intent was to lighten the mood, yet it was lost to the medic who remained in the bow for a second longer. She stood up straight, but her eyes never went up to meet the patient.

“I shall leave you to get some rest. Please don’t feel afraid to call if you're in any discomfort or pain. The monitor will also do so if it detects anything out of the ordinary, but if you yourself feel anything, just use the button on the side there. Don't try to bear with it,” she looked up then, eyes barely going to the operator’s chin, still unable to meet his eyes as she gave a polite smile that froze at the top of her lips and never went any higher or deeper than the surface of muscles raising in an expression. Dismissing herself, she turned and left, hands gripped tight into a fist within her coat pockets. Her nails began to dig into her palms, but her mind was elsewhere, unconcerned with the feeling.

How would we ensure he gets a full recovery? From what I remember in their files, they were an extremely active operator. Agility and speed his strengths- She dodged a nurse wheeling a patient by, momentarily distracted from her thoughts before they came rushing back in like the waves on a beach. As great as our engineering team is, it won’t provide anything that will give him his full range of motion and power. If only there was something we could've done to prevent the toxins. Some kind of antibody. Maybe we need to work more on fast acting antitoxins in the case there are only field medics who only know practical medicine and first aid rather than the medics that go on operations.

The elevator door opened nearly immediately as soon as she stabbed at the down button. Stepping inside, Rhea leaned against the wall and fiddled with her lanyard, eyes trained on the tips of her shoes. Not feeling the elevator move or make a sound, she looked up to see none of the array of buttons pressed. Pushing herself off the wall, she reached forward to press on one and felt the elevator move instantly. A heavy sigh rushed out of her as she slumped back against the wall again. With a ding and a slow stop, the elevator called out the floor and Rhea stepped out, her feet knowing where to take her while her mind remained preoccupied by the amputated operator, medicine, and whatever worry related to it that was gnawing away at her like a dog on a bone.

Rhea opened the door quietly and snuck towards the bell on the counter and before she could repeatedly tap it, it was snatched out of reach by a blur of colour. The thoughts that clouded her mind seemed to go away as she cursed under her breath and smiled in amusement.

“No you don't,” a grease streaked face came into view from one of the rooms. Approaching her, he scowled at her shit eating grin before darkening even further at the new dark circles below her eyes. “Someone's not resting again.”

“Research mission,” Rhea shrugged, climbing up onto the counter and sitting there, fiddling with a bolt as she stifled a yawn and reached out to hand the bolt to him. He took off his gloves and tossed them onto a table behind him as she continued. “Just came back a few hours ago.”

“Let me guess you didn't go rest,” he deadpanned, as she dropped it into his extended gloved hand.

“Marcus, I did!” She cried in her defense, pulling her coat tighter around her.

“For like 2 minutes.”

“No!”

They stared at each other for a second before her gaze slowly crept off to the side sheepishly.

“10.. minutes…But I slept on the way here… for 20 minutes…maybe.”

“Actual moron,” he slammed a heavy hand against the top of her head before sitting down on a stool and crossing his arms. “Well? Why's my sleep allergic sister here?”

“The research mission came back with mostly small injuries. What's bothering me is…We have…One…” Marcus watched her as she stuttered through her words, searching for what to say. He said nothing, letting her finish. Whatever it was, it was bothering her enough to cause her usual eloquence to disappear.

“We've an operator that is now an amputee,” Rhea's eyes went down to the loose thread on her coat and subconsciously started to pick at it, a heavy exhale rattled out of her as she sat there slumped on the counter, appearing smaller than she already was. It was like it took everything in her to get the words out of her.

“Damn,” Marcus exhaled heavily and leaned back a tad, looking off to the side, running a hand through his hair. He bounced his leg as he stared off to the side and nibbled on his lip before turning back to his sister who still seemed to be distracted by the thread that had gotten longer with her fidgeting. Sighing, he grabbed a pair of scissors and approached Rhea. The male feline swat aside her hands and cut the thread, picking off the cut piece and dropping it into the wastebasket. 

“Damn,” Rhea agreed, sighing heavily before teetering over and letting herself lay on the counter, her head thudding against the surface in a way that must've hurt. Her brother only watched as she did so with her eyes in a blank 100 yard stare. Scratching the back of his neck, he thought for a second before heading over to the water boiler in the corner of the front desk. Rhea only lay there, blankly staring at the tables of inventions as she thought through possible procedures and functions for a prosthetic leg. Sure they had some great tech and knowledge on its making, functionality, and use, but she couldn’t help but worry as a medic. To say she felt guilty for his injury wouldn’t be far from the truth either. She felt responsible for the fact that the operator was now missing a leg. “Maybe if we started developing some antitoxins earlier. Maybe if I started pushing for research earlier.”

“Stop that. Sit up and drink,” Marcus’ firm yet still gentle voice broke through her thoughts, holding out a mug of tea before her. The female reached out for it, but the tea was pulled out of her reach in fear of her spilling it all over herself while she moved to sit up. Only once she was upright did her brother bring it back into her range to take. As soon as it was in her hands, she blanked again, eyes blurry like a dead fish as she stared at the surface of her quickly darkening tea. Marcus remained silent as he grabbed the tea bag tag and pulled it out of her mug and dropped it into the same wastebasket as the loose thread.

“Hey,” her brother whistled quietly at her, seizing her attention momentarily. He sighed as he watched her ears wilted and nearly flatten completely against her head. Rhea's hands were beginning to shake as she held onto her mug which Marcus quickly took and set aside. Holding her face in his hands, Marcus brought it up to face him. Tears were welling in her eyes as she began to desperately claw for air that her mind wasn't allowing. A soundless babbling escaped her lips as the tears broke free from her eyes and streaked down her face. Pressing his forehead against his sister's own, he breathed deeply and exhaled audibly to ground his sister and bring her breathing to a normal, calm pace. It wasn't often nowadays that she had moments of panic, but it had stemmed from a place of trauma, one that she had protected him from years ago. One that still haunted her. One that scarred her permanently. One that he still never knew the full details of. But one he knew she needed someone to hold her hand through and sit with for a moment.

They remained that way for a few minutes as her breathing slowed and the tears dried on her face. Her hands reached up to ruffle her brother's hair and nodded, forehead rubbing against his as she did so.

“You did all that you had the ability to do,” Marcus grabbed her mug and raised it to her lips. His eyes watched as he steadily tipped the mug for her to drink. At the small movement of her head, he pulled away the mug and set it back down on the counter next to her. The male feline moved to untie the braids in her hair, letting it all fall loose. “You can't blame yourself for that. If I did that every time I made a mistake or a project of mine malfunctioned, I wouldn't have gotten here in the first place.”

The sister nodded as rubbed the sorrow out of her eyes and exhaled heavily. Her eyes looked down at her hands that her brother swat before she even began to start to pick at the thread that was freshly cut.

“You keep picking that and that button won't be there anymore,” he remarked.

“Well I can always just sew it back on.”

“You can perform surgical sewing, but not actual thread and cloth. We both know this. How that is even possible I have no clue, but that's some fucked up talent.”

“Hey! At least the sewing I know is useful!”

“And sewing on clothing isn't? Nice try when all the buttons and tears I've been the one fixing.”

“Ok, maybe I found the wrong word to use, but you get the idea.”

“Mmm no. No I don't,” Marcus grinned as he dodged his sister's jab. “Ah! She's gone violent! Save me!”

“I will grab you, Marc,” she growled playfully as he dodged once more. Rhea felt calmer. The worry was still there and she doubted it would ever go away, but at least it wasn't clouding her mind. Reaching forward, she walked into her brother to hug him. “Well, I need to check in with the lab. Thanks, really.”

“Anytime,” Marcus hugged back. He wished he could shoulder the pain of his sister in repayment for all the years she had in taking care of him, but he knew it wasn't possible. This was the best that he could do and he'd be damned if he didn't try to at least be there for her. “Anytime.”

Rhea nearly left the room when she was stopped by a small whistle. She turned just in time to catch something that he tossed to her. Catching it, she looked at it and huffed in amusement.

“Get some rest when you can. Actual. Rest. Not whatever 2 minute nap–”

“I got it! Gods! Stop nagging me!”

“I wouldn’t have to nag you if you would actually listen!”

“Aaaaaaa! I can’t hear you!”

With that, Rhea shut the door and left towards the elevator. She was grateful that she was able to find her brother and bring him to the landship to work as an engineer, but of course, with siblings came their dealings. Though she’d rather die than admit it, she appreciated Marcus for his concern and care. After finding he was still alive and had found work in Rhodes Island, she sent a message there and was picked up by some operators before joining herself. The relief that she had felt seeing her older brother couldn’t be put in words and neither should they ever be. Or at least she thought so.

Arriving at her office, she sighed as she gathered her belongings. Her tablet in hand, she started rummaging around the drawers and cabinets searching for a clipboard of hers that must have been shoved into some corner. Stuck in her head and worried about finding the clipboard, she failed to hear the knock at her door. It wasn’t until a clear and low voice broke through her thoughts that she noticed someone at the door. Surprised, she jerked and turned quickly. Possibly too quick as her hand knocked over a glass beaker jar full of cotton balls. Instinct in trying to save the jar won as she fumbled with it only to watch it fall to the ground and shatter in a million pieces. Glass and cotton balls scattering across the floor. Her hand clenched hard around a glass shard as her throat clenched tight to keep herself from letting out any noise. That didn’t stop the muffled noises coming out of her as she turned to see who it was at the door.

Ulpianus stood at the doorway, crimson eyes staring at the medic who was kneeling on the floor, whimpering in pain as her hand began to drip blood. He was dressed in a tight compression shirt and loose pants which seemed, although different from his usual combat attire, quite in line with his taste in fashion. The hunter cleared his throat and carefully moved into the office, stepping around the mess to grab some gauze, antiseptic, a pair of tweezers and bandages. Setting it aside, he easily pulled the feline up to sit on the examination bed who sat there, frozen, eyes wide in shock.

He quickly got to work, gingerly opening her hand as he took the pair of tweezers to carefully remove the shards that had tried to find their home in her palm. Her hand seemed to be swallowed in his as he simply held it to treat it. Ulpianus’ touch was gentle despite how large and rough his hands felt. It was worn by time, weather, and war while hers seemed small, delicate, and only understanding the precise battles of internal wars of life and death. How odd it was. Her, the doctor, being treated by someone who is her patient, but the wars they faced were ones of their own. Looking up at his expression, she saw how his red eyes scanned her palm before darting up at her through his silver bangs. Instinctually, Rhea turned away as he dabbed her palm with antiseptic which had caused her to flinch slightly at the sting. Her tail lashed behind her, thumping at the bed before becoming stiff and curling tight against her arm that was pushing down against the bed in response to the pain.

It wasn’t until the wound was bandaged that Rhea seemed to have taken a breath. Ulpianus thought that she might have passed out from not breathing or barely breathing and was surprised when she let out a breath she must have been holding probably ever since he was pulling shards out. Leaning back, he eyed her for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Sorry for surprising you,” his voice was calm and low, the timbre of his voice quiet yet clear.

“It’s alright! I just had been kind of out of it, but really it’s fine! I’m okay!” Laughing quietly, Rhea reached out and patted the silver-haired hunter’s head. He froze, eyes widening slightly as he looked up from the pale floor, not moving his head as he looked into her brown eyes that widened in realisation. In an instant the feline snapped her hand back, her face almost as red as his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed, her voice shaky with embarrassment. How she wished to crawl into a hole and die. Stumbling into the tray behind her, she scrambled to keep herself composed. Beyond professionalism, it was more than likely humiliating for someone like him to have been given a pat on the head like they were some child having done a good job on some activity. Flustered, Rhea turned back around to explain, her eyes not looking past the laces of her shoes.

“I work with a number of the younger operators and even the children that would sometimes come to our landship. I’m so sorry, I just did it by accident,” her hands flailed as she explained and further felt herself collapsing into the hole of embarrassment. “I was just so used to doing it to all of the kids that I instinctually just did it to you, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mea-”

Her face jerked up to look at him as he had grabbed her by the wrist and put her opened hand on the top of his head. His face gave away no emotion or thought making it difficult for her to really know what he was thinking, but it seemed that he didn’t mind it so much considering he had put her hand back on top of his head. It felt like she had to hold her breath as her hand followed the flow of his hair before going back to the top of his head. Chancing a glance at him, she noticed he had now closed his eyes and a low hum seemed to vibrate in his chest. It felt oddly comforting.

Nevermind the time it took to patch up her hand, but the two of them sitting in silence with her hand on his head added onto the time that she wasn’t at the lab where she should have been. Though surprising in its suddenness but not surprising in its expectation, Rhea fished her phone out of her pocket with her bandaged hand, awkwardly adjusting it in her hand as she hopped down from the bed and pulled her hand away from Ulpianus’ head.

“I need to head to the labs,” she murmured, eyes trained on the screen of her phone, though not focused completely on what was there as she picked up her clipboard and tablet and rushed out the office. Ulpianus stood sighing before nearly running into her as Rhea came back in search of a hairband that he had gathered from her mutterings as she opened what seemed to be every drawer and cabinet in the room.

Rhea stopped only at a nudge to her shoulder and turned to see a dark blue ribbon in his hand. His long hair fell across his back, untied, with a few strands swept over his shoulder. Motioning for her to turn, she was surprised she had as Ulpianus then began combing back her hair in a low ponytail. His hands gentle as they combed through a few knots and smoothed out her hair to pull everything together and tie it with his ribbon. She must have stood there for a moment as her phone chimed again alerting her once more of her presence being required at the lab which pulled her away from the moment and rushed her out the office. Her face was flushed red and her mind was just about as scattered as the glass and cotton balls that remained on her office floor. Rhea remained completely out of it as she was questioned about her new hair ribbon. She never used ribbons. She always used circular ties. Much like the ones that were around her wrist.

The call had come in on the lab facility where they had last escorted a scientist to perform the research promised for them. As soon as the signal went out, orders were quickly given. People rushed from one place to another in organised chaos. Running to different tasks and places they were assigned to. The Frenchman sighed as he settled in the armoured vehicle with the rest of his team. He took a quick inventory of his pack to ensure he had everything he needed before he grabbed his helmet and cradled it in his arms.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t prepared for the possibility of some group trying to attack the lab facility and go after the scientist’s research. Though a good number of people had no idea who exactly the scientist was because it was the man’s desire to keep to the shadows, only a few knew what he looked like or who he really was. Due to the nature of his most recently announced study on cells and recovery, he had asked for assistance from Rainbow to help protect the facility. Though measures were made to protect the facility, they couldn’t be posted 24/7 even to the end of the research. “Suspicion would rise from doing so.” The scientist had said. “Those who wanted to raid the facility would have to then organise far better and with more caution which would prove to be a far greater danger than just leaving a few security and some emergency calls available for the scientist to summon Rainbow there to assist if necessary.” His assistant had then said. It all felt and seemed like a massive load of bullshit, but they could only do as they were told.

They arrived at the destination and quickly filed out. Making quick work of the back stairwell, they moved as a team. Ying and Twitch stood to the side of the door to their floor. The latter grabbing her device and activating the drone she had planted earlier. A silence hovered heavily above them as Lion watched their six and Doc held his position. Montagne shifted quietly, bringing his shield before him as Ying prepped the door. The plan, though not spoken, was clear having been covered prior and many times over when planning for the possible raids.

A signal was given and everyone tensed, ready to jump into action. Adrenaline ran high, sprinting through their veins as the door blasted open. Ying’s candelas went off with its clock-like sounds. Loud cursing echoed in hoards from the raiders as the flash began to do their job. The door was knocked away looking worse than a dog aggressively having its way with a soft toy.

A shot rang off, chewing away at the step it ricocheted off of. With a quick snap, Montagne’s shield cracked open to its full length and the man behind it pushed forward into room with the rest of the team following close behind. Making quick work in disarming the enemy and moving to protect the lab workers and searching for the scientist, the team made their way seeing to each person there. Lion and Montagne made themselves busy with gathering the raiders into a corner as Ying, Twitch, and Doc saw to the workers. A small grimace touched Doc’s features as he came to the dead lab worker, eyes still open from the shock of the shot that razed its way through his head.

“Poor guy,” Ying muttered as she came by towards the medic. Her eyes went from the wound where the blood had started to stop pouring from and down to the expression of disbelief that remained plastered on his face. Gustave sighed as he shut the man’s eyes and covered it with a loose lab cloak that would have been the mans’ own. “Oh… I think someone’s here in the corner.”

Gustave looked up, eyes locking in on the foot and poorly seated body of a person whose whole view was hidden by the desks and shelving. With a hand to his knee to boost him up, he followed after the Hong Konger. A woman with light auburn hair and dark brown showing at the roots, slumped against the wall, unresponsive to Ying’s gentle taps and calls to attention.

“Let me,” he whispered as he kneeled next to the woman. He tapped her shoulder lightly, looking around at her as she sat there.

“Miss… can you hear me? Are you alright?” The Frenchman asked, looking for any response. She was breathing at least. That was always a good sign. He needed to make sure she kept breathing. A frown wearily formed on her face as she let out a weak sigh. A good sign. At least she was responding.

“For fuck’s sake… Just fucking end my misery please,” came a weak yet fiery wheeze to his calls. Reaching into his pouch, Gustave took out a light and opened her eyes, shining the light in them. The pupils barely contracted making him clench his jaw slightly. She had a concussion. The severity of it he didn’t know—.

Then she vomited on her lap and passed out. Well, there was his answer in the form of food and digestive fluid in a sad trickling waterfall from her mouth.

“How vile must you have been to her that she emptied her guts?” Lion chuckled leaning against a table as he nudged his leader with his shoe.

“If she reacted this way to him, she probably would have died seeing yours, Olivier,” Ying sniggered, ducking to dodge a wad of paper Olivier threw at her.

“We’ll need to bring her back. She’s got at least a concussion,” Doc interrupted the banter as he eyed the woman who remained slumped with her vomit pooled in her lap and beginning to trickle down onto the ground like a dam with a leak. “And seeing the condition of everyone else lacking injuries, save for a few scrapes and bruises, and the pauvre salaud dead and her battered the way she is, I'd doubt the concussion is all she’s nursing. Let's get her back to base.”

“Alright,” Lion responded as he readied a stretcher to put the woman on. Montagne approached them with a rattled scientist they had been assigned to protect. Gustave looked at him and checked him asking a few questions to which the scientist responded positively. He was safe at least, but with a major reaction like this to the many evil groups of the world, the man would be safer at their base at least for a while before he’d be urged to continue his research quietly in some unknown or remote facility. Preferably where they could actually station units and have their own men watch who comes and goes. Paperwork and a number of phone calls were due. Sighing and cracking his neck, Gustave stood up fully and took off his gloves as he watched Lion and Twitch gently lay the concussed woman on the stretcher. Seeing some of the puke drip onto the stretcher he closed his eyes in preparation for the earful he’d get from one of the more nitpicky medics from the ward.

Slowly waking to the sounds of light chatter, the sounds of some kind of fragile material clinking against each other, and a quiet yet rhythmic beeping, Stella opened her eyes which was met with just about as much clarity as sewer water. Lifting her arm, she hissed as pain dragged up her side and radiated all the way out to her fingertips and toes. Yet the pain did absolutely nothing to stop her from continuing to bring her arm up to rub her eyes clear of the rheum. She was practically holding her breath as she continued and only exhaled when she had brought her arm back down.

“Son of a fucking bitch,” she muttered as she controlled her breathing to cope with the pain. Lifting her head, Stell looked down at herself and found nothing on the bed save the blanket that had covered her. No extra weird hanging things or tubes or anything. Breathing a sigh of relief, she plopped her head back down onto the pillow and instantly regretted it, her head spun as if it was a poor person with a weak constitution forced on a spinning teacup ride with several other people who wanted to see the world be nothing but a blur of colour. Stella turned slightly and put her fist to her mouth, praying to every cell in her to hang on and keep whatever contents that’s in her, in her.

“Are you feeling alright?” A thick French accent seemed to attempt to soothe her dizziness. Prying an eye open, she saw the same gentleman with greying hair. Now that she had a slightly less foggy consciousness with her, she noticed him far better than she had prior. He had white hair already beginning to take up the sides of his head. He had a gentle face and in his white coat and grey-blue dress shirt and black slacks, he looked much more like some civilian doctor rather than a soldier or whatever he was when she saw him for the short time before she passed out.

“Are you feeling ok?” The man asked again as he walked around the other hospital bed in the room and to her side.

“Yes,” Stella croaked as she struggled to sit up. The man, whose name she didn’t seem to find sewn or pinned on the breast of his coat, moved forward to help. A firm hand on her back and shoulder, he gently helped her up. Despite her side screaming all the way, she managed to keep it all in until she was sat up and exhaled. She might have signed up or recorded her voice to be a folly for a creaky door or a whimpering dog. “Anjing..No…Maybe.”

He laughed quietly and grabbed a small light from his pocket, bringing it to her eyes, he flashed it in her eyes to which she jerked back slightly. His brow had furrowed and she then noticed a light scar on his cheek.

“You've got a fractured rib and will still need to mind the concussion. While it’s not severe, it would be good if you get some rest,” he explained as he stuffed the light into his breast pocket and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“And preferably not do anything gross again,” Stella grimaced as she shifted and her rib reminded her of the pain she was in. She shifted to lean back and hissed quietly, putting her hand up to refuse the help as she was almost leaning back on her own anyways. “At least I’m not wanting to puke my guts out right now.”

“I’ve seen far worse. Sometimes even from my own comrades,” he laughed, eyes still trained on her, warry her condition may suddenly worsen. “A little vomit is nothing.”

“Still humiliating though.”

“Yes.. It would be. Though we’re all used to seeing it—”

“That does nothing for my wounded dignity…..sir.”

He chuckled before his eyes widened slightly in surprise and his hand went to his chest in apology.

“I apologise. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Gustave Kateb. An operator for Rainbow and you’re currently in our facility,” he explained, his eyes going down to her hands that gripped her covers lightly before letting go. “We wanted to make sure you were looked after considering you were one of the only people there who was hurt.”

“Save for the guy that died.”

He hesitated, looking at her as she leaned her head back slowly and closed her eyes before frowning and bringing her head back up. Her head spun more that way. “Yes. Except for the one that died.”

“Was the flashing lights and deafening noise yours, Mr. Kateb?” Stella asked, looking at him studying his brown eyes with her own. She laughed before frowning and stopping at the pain again. Gosh it was a nuisance. Whatever she did, lift her arm, laugh, breathe, shift an atom over to the left or right, it never failed to scream away at her and dig its teeth into her side. But at least it was starting to feel less strikingly painful… or maybe that was just her getting used to the pain. “Definitely a good reason for me to never even think of traveling down the path of being your enemy. Not that I had a mind to do so.”

“Ah, that was not me, but one of my team members. A good tool, but judging by your reaction, it is fortunately quite effective at what it's supposed to do,” he smiled before a buzz caught his attention. He fished out his phone from his pocket and examined the screen before apologising and walking out the room.

She hadn’t really caught on before but she noticed the Frenchman was broad shouldered and was certainly not the typical scrawny doctors that she usually saw in medical facilities. Probably has to do with all the operator work, she thought as she closed her eyes. Her mind went away from him and back to her own work. She needed to leave. As grateful as she was for Rainbow’s help, she needed to get out and continue to glean information like they were fruits ripe for harvest. She definitely could not do that from a hospital bed in Rainbow’s facility located who knows where. Overhearing some voices, she picked up on some talks discussing sponsorships and money. That’s my ride.

Slipping out of her bed, she tried to tidy herself up as much as possible. Stell noticed her clothes on the chair beside the bed and quickly got into them. It would have been maybe a few seconds faster if she hadn’t been stopping here and there from her nausea coming like waves on a beach. She grimaced as she looked at the massive bruise that flowered on her side. A messy watercolour of blues and browns, greens and purples, yellows and reds all on her side where she got kicked. If it were any other time she would have been oddly fascinated by it, but her intrigue could wait. Her ticket out and away however? Cannot.

Putting on her shoes, she grabbed at her pockets and sighed with relief that her phone was still there. Stella’s fingers tapped on the screen before they stilled. The signals wouldn’t read anything that came through or would at least be extremely difficult to lead back to her, but she would rather be safe than sorry. Poking her head out, she looked around for Gustave and any other security that seemed to be around. The minute she saw the group of people turn the corner, she darted out. She needed to somehow blend in with that crowd. After having checked her face and hair with the camera from her phone, she didn’t look half bad, she’d just need to play a little a little livelier to play down the pain she was experiencing. Maybe she should have asked for Ibuprofen or something, but she was already going and needed to continue going.

“Well, I shall lead you all back to the entrance. Do you have any questions?”

Stella stepped in line with the back of the group and took note of each person there. While most were some general company that served to provide some sort of funding, she noticed one of them, the CEO of a tech company. Being able to get generic information was easy from that company, but to get actual information that none knew or was at least kept away from most of the public and even private circles from this company was borderline impossible. Even for her. Carpe fucking diem. Save… for the fact she had no business card nor actual business or company that she was representing, owning, or leading save for her own as an anonymous information broker. That would not really be of much use to someone who was in the position they were. Sure, maybe there was some tidbit of information that they found interesting. Some person having a scandal with another or some under the table dealings with another or some legal thing where loopholes have been found. But Stell knew this man for better or for worse.

“Timothy Allen?” As if by magic, an Australian accent found its way sneaking out from the hole it had buried itself in. She had attended university in Melbourne and soon adopted the accent for the years that she spent there. As soon as she left and went back to her parents’ to visit then found her way around to the work she did, she was able to pick up most accents, but defaulted to the languages she at least knew and could speak confidently in.

The man turned and Stella watched as his brows did a whole show of furrowing and spreading repeatedly as he tried to place the familiar face to a name. It came to him in a few seconds.

“Angie? Holy shit, it’s been years! How are you?” He laughed in surprise as they followed the group.

“It certainly has. I’ve been alright. How’s the family? Congrats as well on becoming CEO. Your father finally let go of the company?” Stell laughed. She went by the shortened version of her middle name in university due to the sheer number of Stella’s she had met and it stuck. Most everyone save for the tiniest of handfuls knew her name to be Stella, but everyone else thought it was Angelita or Angie. So much so that she had to get her diploma reprinted to make it show Stella Angelita Hartono and not Angelita Hartono.

“They’re fine and yes, my father finally let his grubby hands off the wheels. Found he didn’t manage a number of things as optimally, so that was all figured out later,” he huffed and rubbed the back of his neck as they started going down some stairs. “What led you to this place? Was it engineering that you did in uni?”

“Yes, I did do engineering. Though with all the extra side quests I was doing on the side of my degree I might as well have been a doctor too. The things I did to bow to the will of my parents then,” she exhaled heavily as he chuckled in understanding. “But no, I was here on some business as well. Stayed behind to talk a bit with the engineering team on some of their research and shared my own developments and thoughts. I might have let my group actually leave without me so I thought I might catch up with the next group that was finding their way out. Stumbled into you and yours.”

“Well, if you’d like I could take you,” he offered, motioning with his hands as they approached the garage of the facility to his Rolls-Royce. She recognised it as a Sweptail only because her father had an obsession with Rolls-Royces. Though, yes, she did come from a wealthy family, she didn’t really like to enjoy such luxuries, finding it excessive. “Maybe we could catch up over dinner?”

At those words she prayed she didn’t look visibly disgusted. Stella knew him to be quite the foul peer. He was smart. There was no doubt about that. He was smart, knew how to talk to people, and managed his family’s company well. But she would be lying if she said he was a good natured person. Whenever he asked someone to dinner, 99% of the time it was for him to end the night with his dick buried in them. If he liked them, then they’d be his side piece for a few weeks at best. She was not remotely interested in exchanging… goods and services. But the information…

“I see. I would love to come by and see how it’s all done some day,” Stella brought her glass up to her lips as she waited patiently for him to cave and tell her some kind of answer. She had unfortunately been fishing away at him for hours. Between courses and a few drinks, she was now pushing him to drink a bit more. If there was one thing Stell gladly remembered about Timothy, it was that he was a pitiful drunk who failed to remember anything when he got past a certain threshold of alcohol in his system. She knew she had to be somewhat close.

“If you’d like I can give you a card to come and visit anytime you’d like,” he gestured loosely, scotch sloshing dangerously around in its glass as he did so. It was a miracle it hadn’t spilled onto him, the table, or the floor. “Hell, I could even make you a permanent pass so you can come and leave as you wish. As pay for all the times you’ve saved my ass back in the programming courses.”

The words that came out of his mouth nearly made her jump out of her seat in excitement. He was literally rolling out the red carpet and opening the doors for her to just stroll in and take what she wanted. He might as well have said he was putting her on his will at that point. Though of course it hadn’t the same weight, but it very much might as well have been the same.

“Surely you don’t think that’s a tad excessive,” the words that were burning to come out of her mouth were nothing but thank you’s and maybe an ‘are you a fucking idiot?!’, but she needed to contain herself and it was taking an immense amount of restraint to do so. I should be awarded for this.

“Look,” he leaned forward then, frowning at the table as he did so before warily setting his glass down. “You…you saved my ass and my grades in uni. This is the least I could do to repay it all.”

“How desperate were you then?” Surprise was having a field day inside her mind. If anyone else was hearing the conversation, they would assume that she saved his life from some near-death experience or something of that equivalent when she did no such thing. All she did was hand him notes of some classes, review an entire course he had failed to show up to class for the entire year, and fix his paper for him all for pay while he drank, fucked, ate, shit, went to the hospital from doing some stupid shit, and religiously rinsed and repeated. “Anyone would think I was some kind of saviour.”

“You practically were. If it weren’t for you I would have flunked out,” he pointed at her, visibly intoxicated. She wanted to get out already. Her easy pass to information on one of the newest and yet most secure tech companies was already in her hands. “Here let me… no, could you write that down here and just send it to my secretary.”

As if her day couldn’t get any better he just made it far greater by handing her his phone. The screen showed a message log with what she assumed to be his secretary. Scrolling up on the message logs she read through slightly on each and every bit of message sent. Mostly ‘yes’ and ‘no’ and ‘right away’ being the response from the secretary along with obscure instructions from Timothy. Whoever this secretary was, she wished to commend them for understanding whatever bullshit “red big sharp tomorrow” was supposed to mean. Did he even know basic English conventions to build a sentence? Hell, her 5 year old niece who pieced together English from random YouTube videos would probably be writing better had she the desire to do so.

“Say, why don’t you join me, hm?” There it was, his advances. Her fingers tapped away on the screen as her eyes went to look up at him. Her eyes went back to the screen as she pressed send and it was promptly met with ellipses that appeared, disappeared, appeared again, then vanished with the sent message of a ‘right away.’ “Can show you a good time.”

Stella’s stomach lurched at the very thought of climbing into bed with him. It wasn’t that he wasn’t good looking or was rumoured to have a “dick for days” but that she herself had standards and he couldn’t even clear the bar that was put way down in hell. His dazed look seemed to trail down to her neck and lingered on her chest that seemed to barely make an impression on the dress shirt she wore. Only sighing as she adjusted in her seat, Stell leaned forward and offered a pained smile.

“Well I’m sure it’d be nice, but I think you’re quite legless. I doubt you'd be able to even stand up properly,” Stell scooted her seat back and folded her napkin, placing it on top of the table with a polite smile. “Well then, I'll expect the access card when I swing by next week.”

With that she left, barely keeping her breath together as she got through the establishment and into the Underground. There was no way any sane person would walk around, talk up a storm, eat some fancy dinner, and still be okay from all of it while nursing a broken rib and a mild concussion. Considering her line of work she created and managed though, she was definitely not classified as a ‘sane’ person. Opportunistic would probably fit her better.

Her mind whirred as she settled down in a seat on one of the cars. Eyes glancing at the map, she counted silently before pulling her coat around her and leaning her head against the glass behind her. She couldn’t wait to get into one of her offices to down some painkillers because hell if her ribs weren’t feeling like a bitch and a half.

Doc finally was free from the various meetings he had to be a part of. Despite his role as an operator, he still was greatly involved in the medical wards due to his knowledge and experience in the field. He sighed and closed his eyes as he leaned against the wall of the elevator. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he thought about the woman who came in today. She was, thankfully, mostly fine. There wasn’t any internal bleeding or major injuries, but with her fractured rib from some blunt trauma and the concussion she had been nursing unconsciously (or consciously) prior to his team arriving, she would need rest. As he needed to check on the patient who shared her room, he thought he might as well check in on her. It was then that he realised he had forgotten to ask for her name. The scientist hadn’t known her name unfortunately (and was markedly terrible at remembering names anyways). She also had no other way of identifying herself. No staff ID card and no wallet to possibly find any form of identification from.

Pulling back the curtain of the other patient, he looked at the clipboard before examining and talking to the woman who nodded positively that she had been resting and hadn’t felt any pain or discomfort.

“That’s good,” he smiled at her before nodding and closing the curtain around her bed to offer her privacy. Moving over to the other bed in the room, Gustave pulled back the curtain only to be met with an empty bed and neatly folded gown. Her clothes were gone and as the patient next to her hadn’t said anything about her, he assumed she had left while she was asleep or was extremely quiet when doing so.

“Shit.”

Gustave rushed out, his legs carrying him in the direction of the surveillance room. She would have already gone from the establishment but he could at least see how or what way she had done so. As she wasn’t as high of an operator and didn’t have such a skill as Mute or Vigil to cancel out the surveillance camera’s ability to detect her, he would easily find her on the footage. But even if she was able to do so, security would be alerted as use of an operator’s skill set wasn’t quite allowed outside of the training grounds and labs unless in the case of an emergency or attack.

Several heads turned as the door was bullied open and the Frenchman in some degree of urgency rushed to one of the desks. After a bit of instruction, a million clicks backwards, and flipping of cameras, the woman was found to have left her room, joined a group of possible investors and left the base with one of the investors.

Staring at the empty parking spot, he tapped his fingers on the desk as he was leaning against it with his hands and dropped his head. Though his responsibility as a doctor compelled him to watch over and guide her to health, he knew that he didn’t quite have such a responsibility as she was technically free to go and just required caution. Especially considering that she was at the main base, she was not necessarily permitted to be here for a long time anyways. With her being able to just slip away without much of a notice from security though, was a major issue. If someone was able to slip out with little notice, there was a possibility that someone could do the same coming in. 

Gustave pushed off of the desk and patted the operator on the shoulder before leaving the room. His hand went to his forehead and dragged down slightly before going up to comb through his hair. An exhale left him as he walked towards the head office. He should at least report it. It was out of his hands, but he felt he should at least hold some responsibility for it. It didn’t seem that she was too much of a security threat.

“Stell was here?”

Surprise was the shared mood in the room, as the Spaniard spoke in interest of the escaped patient. Doc’s brow tightened slightly in curiosity as he shifted slightly in his chair.

“Do you know the patie–Stell, Ryad and Erik?”

Jackal and Maverick both nodded in response as the former looked towards Zero and then back to the Frenchman. “Though most of my work at GEO was done with my own ability, there were times where the trail was nothing but some vague vapor to make sense of in the midst of chaos. Stell was an invaluable informant with no allegiance to any save for herself and money. Terrorists, police forces, politicians, militaries, governments, private hires all sought her for information. Even being given the smallest or near zero clarity for what to receive information on, she would come back with an archive full of information on.”

Gustave covered his mouth with his hand, rubbing at the stubble that was starting to grow on his jaw. The more the older operator spoke the more terrible he felt about the situation. She could have taken whatever information she could while she was here. Hell if he knew that she had already done so.

“She jumps around from country to country to gather information and truly doesn’t care what motivation the information is used for so long as she gets paid,” Ryad motioned with his cup and brought it to his lips before bringing it down slightly. “So long as you exist she probably has at least several lists of information on you.”

“All this as a one man show, by the way,” Erik rubbed at his neck. “Doesn’t matter how dangerous it is. Where there’s information to be had she’s probably there or already gone.”

“That means she must have–”

“Yes.” Jackal's lips tensed as he responded.

“With the scientist–”

“Yes.” Maverick nodded as he leaned back and crossed his arms.

“And with our facility–” He knew it’d be an issue now that someone had slipped past and out their facility, but the gravity of the situation was far greater than he had thought now knowing that she was such a prominent figure in the world of information. A part of him already knew the answer as he pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and leaned against the table.

“Likely. If she doesn't have the information already.”

“Merde.”

“Indeed.”

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pauvre salaud - poor bastard anjing - dog (similar weight/use as shit/fuck/bitch) merde - shit