agents-of-virtue

[agents-of-virtue]

[agents-of-virtue]

[agents-of-virtue]

•Chiffon Evening Dress, adorned with silk flowers.

Date: 1924

[agents-of-virtue]

Big fan of sun motifs in characters not necessarily being about positivity and happiness and how they're so " bright and warm" but instead being about fucking brutal they are.

Radiant. A FORCE of nature that will turn you to ash. That warmth that burns so hot it feels like ice. Piercing yellow and red and white. A character being a Sun because you cannot challenge a Sun without burning alive or taking everything down with them if victorious.

[agents-of-virtue]

i’m like if an angel fell from heaven and got insanely fucked up from the impact

[agents-of-virtue]

a hanukkiah bouquet . ݁₊᪥⋆. ݁

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[agents-of-virtue]

Secret New Year's Santa 2023

Hiiiii @agents-of-virtue! Happy New Year. I’m so excited to be your Secret Santa because I also have really strong opinions on latkes, wrt your Roanoke Winter post. This was really fun to write. 

Bekah checked her watch for the ninth time. December 16th, but just barely… She understood why 12:30 AM was the right time for a secret meeting in the middle of the woods, far off from any trail or manmade light source, but it was still cold and dark enough to increase the distance from home. 

At least it wasn’t snowing. That she was able to hold onto, as well as the multiple handwarmers stuffed into each of her pockets. 

12:31. 

12:40. At this point, Bekah unscrewed the lid on her thermos and took an indulgent first gulp of hot chocolate. 

At 12:41, a thin branch snapped directly northeast of her. A figure stood perfectly still, boot-clad foot held precisely at the point of the noise. It had a large, waxed canvas coat on with a hood drawn close, wisps of warm breath barely escaping a woolen scarf. The figure raised its mittened hands and lowered its hood, revealing a face both exhausted and relieved. 

“Annabelle,” Drew sighed, marching forward through the brush and giving her a hug. Though they had little time for pleasantries in such a sensitive mission, it had still been three months since anyone had seen him.

“You’re eleven minutes late,” Bekah chided, “I was going to turn around.” 

“No you weren’t.” “Was too.” 

“Was not!” Drew stifled a laugh, drawing his attention to a bird having awoken from the commotion. 

“How long do we have?” Bekah took a seat on a mossy log that had escaped most dampness from evergreen tree cover. “I brought you some first aid, painkillers.” 

Drew sat down on the ground, some of his natural playfulness overriding his carefully constructed gruff demeanor. “I have never wanted an Ibuprofen more in my life.” 

Bekah drew out a small box that had a ribbon tied around it in a bow, “Are you hurt?” 

“No,” Drew admitted, “Just to have. Just in case. How did you know?” 

“You know I just know.” Bekah passed Drew the box, and he dug out from a secret pocket on his jacket a makeshift file folder with hand drawn maps, journal entries, and whatever else he could squirrel away. 

He reached deeper into the pocket still and brought out a small burlap sack. “Something else?” Bekah asked warily, concerned about the potential of Drew stealing an artifact or item of power from a cult so difficult to be stationed in. 

“Yeah, something else.” Drew unceremoniously dumped the total contents of the bag onto the ground and dropped his mittens on top. A handful of woodchips, a lighter (precious contraband brought on the last supply run), a cast iron pan the size of his extended palm and fingers, a vial of oil the size of his pinky, a small box labeled ‘CANDLES’, and a damp bag of something that smelled vegetal. 

There needed to be few words spoken to understand the task at hand. Bekah held the flame to the woodchips and gently coaxed an ember out as Drew gathered twigs and pushed stones into a circle. 

“I put salt and pepper in with the potato,” he explained as he rummaged through another pocket, “And I tried to bring some condiments, but everything’s kind of limited out here…” 

Bekah’s stomach sank. Above the mission, the deep trust they kept to maintain Drew’s secrecy, the greater ambitions of the Roanoke cult surveillance program, and even the biting cold itself, this moment would be the ultimate decider of Drew’s allegiance, whether he knew it or not. 

“Okay,” he sighed, “So I had a few leftover eggs, so I whipped up the whites with the last dried garlic bulb-” 

“Mayonnaise,” Bekah interrupted, “You brought-” 

“Aioli,” Drew pleaded, “Garlic aioli.” 

“Fine, aioli. What else?” 

Drew palmed another vial. “Vinaigrette from the fall. I spiced it myself. One of the better downtime activities.” 

“For latkes!?” 

“Okay, but get ready for the shocker. I was on contraband duty last week, and I couldn’t believe it… Everything is in the notes, but there were these two new guys, and…” He held a small packet between his fingers. 

“Barbecue sauce.” 

“From Arby’s.” 

“Barbecue sauce from Arby’s.” 

“Isn’t it incredible?” By now, the single latke sizzled on the tiny cast iron. Bekah offered her knife to flip it with as she processed the… uh, sure, incredible experience. 

By 1:00, the latke was crispy on both sides. Bekah split it down the middle. 

“What’s it like back home?” Drew asked, melting the bottoms of seven candles to the log. 

“Same as it ever was,” Bekah joked. “We found kittens in the garage.” 

“Are you serious?!” Drew paused his work to check her expression, “How many?” 

“Five.” Noticing Drew’s well-intentioned menorah spread, she nonchalantly palmed the lighter from Drew’s hand and melted down one more candle to finish the line. “They’ll be bigger when you’re back, but they look like aliens right now. Little fuzzy aliens.” 

“Little fuzzy aliens,” Drew remarked back. He dug one more candle out of the box and handed it to Bekah. 

Bekah lit it and murmured under her breath as she lit the row of candles. 

“Sorry you’re on assignment on night eight.” 

Bekah couldn’t hold her laugh any longer. A trio of birds flapped away. “I lit candles at the motel before heading out. You didn’t have to do this.” 

Drew shrugged. “It’s still a taste of home.” He peeled away his half of the latke and coyly squeezed half the packet of barbecue sauce onto it before taking a bite. 

Bekah took a breath and held it. She glanced away at the departing birds, and checked for any sign of  human life in range of hearing or seeing them. She exhaled and held out her hand for the rest of the sauce. “This,” she sharply warned, “Does not leave the woods. We do not tell anyone back home. Not ever.” 

“I always have room for another secret,” Drew agreed. They ate as the candles burned all the way down and the fire had been smothered. By the time Bekah turned on her flashlight, Drew was gone again.

[agents-of-virtue]

Secret Santa(New Year's?) 2k23

Another year, another Secret Santa! (Despite it being way past Christmas, but who cares? Time is an illusion.) Any way! @agent-sentinel-official I am your Secret Santa/New Year's person! Hope you enjoy!

Birds of a Feather

Years.

Decades.

Centuries. 

Millennia. 

They all start to bleed together after a while. Joan doesn’t remember when he stopped counting the turn of a new year. So New Year’s Eve and Day were just that to him. Days. Nothing special. But it was still amusing to see everyone around the manor do their own rituals and observances for the day. All mainly the more mortal agents and officers, but a few of the immortals (or at least those harder to kill) were having their own fun. 

Joan decided to take a break and go out on to the back section of the porch. It looked out over the vast garden that was still slumbering under the winter snow, but plenty of evergreens still stood strong and proud against the bright white covering the grounds like a thick down blanket. He just didn’t expect to see Walter out there, bundled against the cold with a pair of binoculars. 

“Walter?” He scanned over the man. It looked like he hadn’t moved in a while. “What are you doing out here? No New Year’s traditions?”

“This is the tradition. A newer one, at least.” He gestured out to the snow covered grounds, keeping his voice low. “Every year for the past couple years, if not decades, there have been some irruptive waves of birds looking for food farther south than they normally go. It’s not the best thing ecologically, I guess, but it’s still nice to see the birds every now and then. I think something just draws them to the manor.”

Joan’s head tilted slightly to the side. “Birdwatching? Never thought of you as a birder before. The fishing and what not doesn’t surprise me.” He thought back to the hawk he saw flying the grounds ever so often through the years. It was even circling high in the sky now. “Is that your hawk? I always wondered why it never really left the manor grounds...”

The younger immortal smiled. “That it is. Nursed it back to health and everything.” Walter put his binoculars up to his eyes again, looking towards the hawk then back over the grounds. “I guess having all the time in the world allows you to develop habits and hobbies that you wouldn’t have with a normal lifespan.”

Joan was quiet. That was true. The amount of hobbies he’s picked up throughout the years was a perfect testament to it. Maybe this was another he could pick up. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. Feel free.” Walter gestured to the plenty of open rockers left out on the porch. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get to see something unexpected now that there’s two of us out here?”

He couldn’t help the small, soft laugh that left him as he eased himself into the old wooden rocker. “Maybe. Who knows?”

They both sat in silence, the sounds of the manor settling against the cold and occasion woodland creature filling the space for them. It was peaceful. Even if they didn’t see anything spectacular or even anything at all, Joan would consider this a good moment. And he hoped Walter would too. 

“Hey Joan?”

“Yeah?” He didn’t turn from the garden and neither did Walter. 

“Happy New Year.”

“And to all that come after.”

[agents-of-virtue]

I don't remember where I am.

[agents-of-virtue]

[agents-of-virtue]

a californian but there’s something just a bit wrong and spooky about her. call that an uncanny valley girl

[agents-of-virtue]

PRIDE & PREJUDICE 2005, dir. Joe Wright

[agents-of-virtue]

name aesthetic : farzana

[agents-of-virtue]

Paolo Sebastian “The Nutcracker”

[agents-of-virtue]

happier headcanon q’s! 

1. what gives your muse hope? 

2. what is your muse’s favorite joke?

3. what is your muse’s favorite hobby?

4. what is your muse’s happiest memory?

5. what does self-care look like to your muse?

6. what is your muse’s favorite kind of weather?

7. what would your muse consider a perfect day?

8. what does your muse love doing with other people?

9. what does your muse consider their biggest success?

10. who does your muse consider their best/closet friend?

11. does your muse think people deserve second chances? 

12. what is something that will always make your muse laugh?

13. what would your muse consider their best physical feature?

14. what was the best/funniest dream your muse has ever had?

15. what is something that’s made your muse so happy they’ve cried?

16. has your muse ever laughed so hard they’ve cried? what caused it?

17. what was the best/most thoughtful gift your muse has ever received?

18. what kind of hugs does your muse give? gentle? tight? pick and spin?

19. what would be the best way to cheer up your muse when they’re sad?

20. what is a way that your muse shows love and affection without words?

21. what is something good that your muse carries with them from childhood?

22. what does your muse consider the most beautiful place they’ve ever been?

23. does your muse like receiving gifts? what would be the best gift to get them?

24. what is your muse’s favorite animal? have they ever gotten to see one in person?

25. during difficult times, what is something your muse holds onto to get them through?

26. if your muse could go on vacation anywhere, what would be their dream destination?

27. when it comes to gift giving, does your muse tend to lean funny, practical, thoughtful? 

28. after a fight, how does your muse go about apologizing/making it up to the other person?

29. what is something that was difficult at the time, but taught them a valuable lesson they still hold onto?

[agents-of-virtue]

When Katya said “Of course we’re in love. That’s why i tried to shoot you.” And Goncharov said “If we really were in love you wouldn’t have missed.” 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫