empyreanshaw-blog

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agenttemplar:

It seemed almost as if they could never escape this feeling, the feeling of loss. Just when everyone was slowly starting to get back to the way things were before the loss of Oracle. It seemed that even for that little bit of time that everything was going to be fine again, that they were going to be okay. But than reality hit and the news about Noelle was broadcasted throughout the entire castle. She could never forget the moment that she found out that another agent had died. The pain that twisted inside her body that she than felt guilty about considering she was nothing to Noelle compared to some of the other agents. She wasn’t supposed to feel like this over someone she hardly knew. And that’s exactly what she did, she stopped feeling. Amalia shut down after she heard the news of the death of another agent. They were the best of the best, at least they were supposed to be. And now with another death of an agent not even two months apart, she wasn’t sure if they could really call themselves that anymore.

So Amalia decided that from here on out she wasn’t going to mourn the lost of their fallen agents, what would she get from that? Instead, she would throw herself into her work, not even thinking twice about it. There was so much on the line for them and she was going to make sure that she was doing as she could to make sure that they didn’t loose another agent. The sound of her heels echoed throughout the hallway as she carried a few of her files close to her chest and was making her way down to the lab. She hardly looked at any of the people that she past, she knew that if she saw the looks that laid on her faces that she would feel bad and would want to stop and help them until they were okay again. She couldn’t do, she couldn’t mother people again. She had been doing exactly that for so long already and now all she wanted to do was what she was brought here to do in the first place.

Amalia turned the corner and was made her way into the garage to retrieve a few items before she found herself locked in the lab for hours at end. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Nate hard at work. Amalia told herself not to look at him otherwise she’d find herself trying to help him. Instead she continued on to grab the things she came for and would be on her way out. It was then that out of the corner of her eyes that she saw the flames go up. Turning quickly to look at the agent and realizing that he wasn’t doing anything to stop it, Amalia dropped her folders and reached for a fire extinguisher that was mounted on the wall before running over to the other agent to quickly put out the flames.

It took a little bit of work but eventually the flame was put out and Amalia sighed as she dropped the empty extinguisher on the ground and turned to look over at Nate. He looked like shit, anyone could tell that. Amalia couldn’t stop herself as she reached out to touch his shoulder, trying her best not to startle him. “Nathan? Are you okay?” She asked in a soft voice, looking up to him and seeing that he clearly wasn’t himself. “Nathan, look at me?”

The other agents in the house liked to joke when it came to what Nate’s role in the house was, to call him the father of the group, the parental one and he’d never disagreed, taking care of them -- keeping them healthy by stepping in when they forgot simple things like food after too long working in the labs were things he enjoyed doing. Two decades he’d been here most wondered how he hadn’t lost his mind, how he hadn’t become cold or ruthless or any other thing most became after witnessing the amount of loss he had.

No, that was where Nathan was different. Despite all the things he’d gained and lost, all that anguish, misery and loneliness when a friend died what had it made him in the end? It had made him kind and not for any selfish sake. Ultimately, this would be no different but at the moment everything was still too raw -- nerve endings exposed to too much stimulus and utterly overwhelming every cell within his body.

This was their lives, it wasn’t fun, wasn’t smart, just standing up and making a the hard decisions when no one else in the world would and in the end they were all just stories. Stories set to be forgotten. His elbows pressed heavily against his knees face buried in his hands as the tears began to flow silently dripping off his chin. There was no control over these emotions, this raw pain was not something he could simply tamp down and cease. They rose up out of nowhere and vanished just as quickly. He vaguely heard the sound of someone trying to speak to him, the pressure on his shoulder revealing the silent tremors wracking his body as he sat there. His tired mind couldn’t process who it was that was trying to talk to him right now and it took a few minutes before he could do anything other than simply sit there crying silent tears. 

Finally he managed to suck in and release a choked breath, feeling embarrassed to have suddenly broken down so out of the blue. His head shook as the questions became clearer answering with a muffled voice “I-I’m sorry... I--- I don’t know what came over me.”

Breathing Through Corrupted Lungs : Nate & Malia

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helixisms:

I remember how I spent the 23rd feeling six feet under when I’m thirty thousand feet in the air. @empyreanshaw

Identify it. The moment that reality started to sink it. It wasn’t when she buckled herself into the cockpit next to Hypoxia, or the way her face paled from the fear of flight, nor in the briefings, or the shock that the the reason why they were yanked from a long term mission was due to the death of one of their own. Even when she was back within the walls of the base, it did not sink in, not even with the demeanor of everyone around her. Macey remained quiet, glancing to Gus before she moved to gather her things. She was going through the motions, if she was honest, operating on autopilot. 

The lines had blurred, she had allowed them to blur. So when it at last did sink in, her breath was stolen from from her, punched right from her lungs. And that feeling of reeling was something that did not stop as she stared at the body bag, readying the camera. In truth, she was tired of autopsies. She was tired of being the one who examined the bodies of people that she had known, people she had befriended and generally enjoyed being around. In a way, Macey began to understand why some of them broke off from too much personal interaction. However, she could not let it go. Because despite this body bag, despite who was inside, she knew that she had memories of Noelle – as she was. Not like this. 

She felt the plane click onto autopilot, and a figure appeared in the door of the lab. The usually sunny Macey was somber, caught somewhere between here, this room, and that house in Tucson. There was a stabbing in her side, a realization once again that this is who they were. That place, Tucson, those things she was feeling, they were real, but they were unobtainable. Because those two people, even the ones behind closed doors, they might have been the most real versions, but that was not a version they were allowed to have. Her fingers shook for a half beat and she sighed. “How long do we have before we have to land? I just need to know if I can take my time or I need to be expedient.”

A very small part of him almost wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation, of course the suits had opted to select him to dispose of Noelle’s body. Like the wound wasn’t raw enough as it was, the salt just had to be rubbed in that they wanted him not only to help further desecrate her remains but then to dispose of her like the garbage they all were ultimately viewed as. Nathan had done his best to prepare for what would happen during the hours of the flight, but how could you really prepare yourself to assist in the task of cutting open a person who had come to mean so much to you? How could you live with the guilt of knowing that if you’d gone along things might have ended up differently. Maybe he’d be in a bodybag too. For a few moments these were questions Nathan considered whilst staring down the length of the runway they were set to take off from, he barely needed to think about what needed to be done before he was flicking the switches, hand on the yoke whilst the other eased the throttle back and opened up the engines propelling them with increasing speed along the runway.

Soon enough the ground fell away as they cruised to altitude, it only taking Nathan a few moments to adjust to the g-forces and bank the plane on the correct course, he knew that he needed to hand over to the autopilot but for just a few moments longer he wished to enjoy the last remaining memories he had of Noelle before they were tainted by what came next. With a deep breath his hand reached out and jabbed the button the autopilot light coming on allowing him to release the yoke. There was no way to avoid what needed to be done any longer.

His features were drawn in a deep frown, sadness reflecting in the stormy gunmetal hues of his eyes, the sombre expression making the lines of his age more prominent as he stepped further into the fridge-like interior of the lab the door sliding shut behind him to maintain the room temperature. He almost missed what Macey had to say as he stared at the bodybag, denial creeping back into his mind and a loud ringing overtaking his ears. Raising a hand to rub his eyes he tore his attention away from the plastic bag, “um--” it took him a few moments to recall the actual answer to what she wanted to know “six hours or so depending on the weather.”

end credits || hypoxia/helix

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“Strike Back”, 2/?..

+ bonus:

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John Porter ~ Strike Back (Zimbabwe)

My gifs.

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Breathing Through Corrupted Lungs : Nate & Malia

Nathan moved through the days in a fog.

How he’d managed to get through the last week and a half was beyond him. Mind and body alike on autopilot, cruising through motions trying to do so mindlessly because if he thought about the sights he’d seen aboard that plane a part of him knew he’d shut down. Which explained why he had retreated entirely from the other agents and thrown himself entirely into his work in the garage, not stopping to take a break, barely eating without feeling or even being ill, unable to sleep without the haunting images of her ghost waking him in a cold sweat... Usually he could detach himself from the loss of an agent and yet this time it felt like his whole world had come crashing down with a few words.

Noelle’s blank lifeless eyes lingered in every waking and resting moment he tried to find. No place offered solitude from the weight of what had happened or being the one to have to write up a report on just how they’d hollowed her skull entirely; carving away not only her life but one of the greatest aspects of her-- her mind until she was, what? An empty socket to plug their wires and experiments into to their own satisfaction....

Nathan had been back verging on 48 hours now, written up his report, submitted it and retreated to his own personal space only emerging when hunger forced him to try and eat or drink something. Today he was in the garage again, bent over a quad-copter with a set of microscope glasses propped on his nose and trying to fiddle with the electronics within it. The sight would have been no different from any other normal day before when he came here to work, yet instead of a calm composure and sure, steady movements the shift of his hands was frustrated borderline aggressive even. 

It was part way through this task that a wave of memories and images dredged themselves up and flashed through his mind’s eye causing his already restless hands to tremble, nausea to settle in his stomach and his ears to ring as the tools in his grasp slipped clattering to the table forgotten. His hands shifted to press against his face his body swaying a little, breaths growing faster and shallower, dizziness overcoming him and yet it wasn’t his head that was spinning but the entire world around him. Apparently fatigue and barely eating anything was catching up to him. This isn’t real. None of this is real. I’ll wake up soon won’t I? Too deprived of energy to function coherently Nathan could barely even register the fact that the tech he’d been working on moments prior had erupted in a set of sparks and ignited itself on the workbench infront of him, flames licking up its side and causing the paint on the RC device to bubble and blister away in a small cloud of acidic smoke whilst the final memory he had of loading Noelle’s body into the crematorium became stuck on repeat in his mind.

@agenttemplar

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Daniel Miller in Episode Two.

[Please, if you have any request, feel free to ask…I enjoy so much making all these Daniel gifs  ❤]

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xx

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You think you’re clever. You’re not. You’re transparent. Feeding me childhood secrets in hopes of what? Working me?

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Christ, Hector. Just because you saved my ass ten years ago does not mean it’s okay for me to fall on the fucking sword for you!

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You sure about this? Well, I considered the idea of protecting him, but I couldn’t live with myself.

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richard armitage in berlin station: s01e02 / lights don’t run on loyalty

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wingedfucker:

It was eerie, Jake thought as he walked into the Castle that morning. The atmopsphere was heavy, and the halls were startingly empty. Even the common areas were scarce. The majority of those out and about looked worn and weary. It was blissful ignorance that made Jake assume that their silence had to do with being overworked. The lack of the other agents meant they were out on missions, or hiding from the rain. He planned on following the same path. All he wanted was to shower and rest. Jake was walking towards the dorms when he saw it. An open door.

The sight made him paused, heart pounding as the hall remained empty. As no sound drifted from that room, Jake felt the worry well. Open doors and silence were the signs of a death in the Castle. Whenever an agent passed away someone needed to empty the room, and when they did the door remained open for the next agent. It was a morbid thing to do, at least in Jake’s mind it was. The open door always conveyed the idea that they were airing out the dead, or rubbing it in everyone’s faces. No one could cheat Death, not even them, the best of the best.

He was not sure how long he stood at the end of the hallway, but at some point someone slipped past him. Their shoulder clipped his, and it was then that Jake began to move. As the hallway seemed to grow in length with each step, he became aware of who resided in that room. It was Noelle’s room. He knew by the paint on the walls, and something about it being Noelle’s room felt completely wrong.

She was older than him. In fact, Noelle was one of the agents there to greet him when he arrived seven years prior. Fresh out of recruitment school, and a heady mix of excited and scared shitless. The older agent sensed that, but she never held it over his head. If anything, he remembered that she was amused, and it was only seven years later that Jake understood that almost anything could do that for her.

What happened? The thought echoed in his mind as the room grew closer. The empty walls taunting him all the while. Something made him step towards the threshold, and it was then that the room revealed something, rather someone, to him. Nate.

Worry ebbed to sorrow at the sight of his close friend and mentor. While Jake and Noelle were friendly, Nate and Noelle were friends. They had years of friendship and experience as agents together, and it was obvious by Nate’s distraction that he was mourning. Jake felt like an intruder at that moment, but he could not just leave. His feet refused to keep walking. Instead, he remained in the doorway to give Nate space.

“Nate?” he asked after a few moments of silence passed, “Can I get you something?

Typically, Nathan stood tall, whenever one of their own was lost he was able to keep a level head whilst the others grieved, simply taking the burden and adding it to the load he carried on his shoulders. Typically, Nathan was the pillar of strength -- dependable under pressure or otherwise extreme conditions to keep his cool and for once he’d utterly lost that capability for calmness.

Suffering. Grief. The explanation of why so many turned to darkness. Permitting evilness to corrupt and slowly creep into their lives in small ways to begin with: wanting to right a wrong or save someone you care about above all costs, then fighting against injustice or saving a town or both, until the need to take vengeance on all those who fought against you or hurt those you cared for became an utterly consuming notion.

Nate was beginning to understand the appeal for once in his life, the urge to allow the darkness to consume him. To change and give in to the forces, like a tectonic plate being forced into the molten heat and remoulded into something different-- harder, less breakable. To make those responsible for causing him to feel this way suffer.

It was ironic how a single sentence could set him off, “unless you know how to bring her back then no you can’t get me anything.” His voice was razor-sharp, cutting through the silence in the room his entire form trembling from the strength of his emotions. How long had it been since he’d felt these emotions? Anger, loathing, pure and unrefined rage. The answer? A long time. So long that they had simply been bottled and festered until the lid had been wrenched off leaving him a lit fuse ready to explode at any moment.

Diamonds Are Forever

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agentember:

So many words were at the tip of her tongue. She wanted to comfort him in his pain, truly. The empathy she had beaten into submission over the years was rearing its head meekly, and her current mind set held no weapons to force it back down. She wanted to tell him how she had brought Rift back, brought her home, but the grisly details were the last thing he needed. As far as she was concerned, the less people who knew the horror of gazing into her colleague’s hollow skull, the better. Aside from that, she didn’t have it in her. Displaying outward emotion made her uncomfortable, it wasn’t within her capabilities to open her thoughts for others to peruse, and anything she could say felt too much, too personal, and not hers to divulge. She conducted her missions, her life, with discretion, and wasn’t equipped to break the habit of a lifetime now.

But the silence was heavy, even when he provided respite by briefly leaving the room. As much as she felt like an intruder, a scavenger, picking Noelle’s room clean of everything that was personal to the woman, she was glad to have an objective, something to do with her hands and her focus to divert from the heaviness in the atmosphere. She didn’t expect him to move to help her, but perhaps he wanted to get this over with as efficiently as she did, or perhaps he felt the handling of her things, filing away of what she had left behind should be left to him. A small gesture of goodbye.

“I admire that,” Valencia said. She herself pursued perfection, attracted to fine things with a magpie-like eye, and couldn’t help the longing glance she gave some of Rift’s attire as she carefully folded it away. The box quickly filled with the contents of the drawers, and she sealed them, before turning to the rest of her room. There was so much to do, and she was shattered from trying to do it all. Pushing a knotted lock of hair that had escaped from its braid, she let out a sigh. “This feels wrong,” she said. It was a simple phrase, but the tone of her words carried more meaning than she would ever intonate. She didn’t want to do this. She shouldn’t have to do this. Noelle had been one of them, and now she was a mark in a file somewhere, the suits more concerned with erasing any trace than the life force that had been cut off forever.

Nathan stood in the bathroom staring at his reflection for a long period of time trying to piece together his thoughts, the only constant in that moment being the sound of running water in the basin before he remembered what he’d walked in here for. His mind shut down entirely and he moved mindlessly, mechanical mass of limbs on autopilot peeling off damp layers and replacing them with dry ones before stiffly moving back into the room and taking up a place beside Valencia and the drawers.

He couldn’t stay in here and do nothing-- it would simply permit the reality of this all to settle in and he wanted to avoid that for as long as he could. His throat worked tightly as he picked up one of Noelle’s favourite blouses idly fingering the soft material before his grip tightened and he dropped it mechanically into the box continuing to do so until the first one was filled and the drawers empty. 

Her words caused his hands to still, a tremor going through his hands as he knelt there before pressing them into his thighs to try and stop the shaking. He wasn’t going to break down again. He couldn’t. He wasn’t alone now. Instead he locked himself down, focusing on the task at hand. “Right or don’t don’t matter in this job, you just have to do it” his voice was flat none of them really had any sort of choice in this. They had to do this or face the consequences. With the drawers emptied next came the shelves and as his fingers trailed the spines of the book collections his fingers stopped on one set in particular; each identical in kind, its width thicker in diameter the sight causing his heart to stick in his throat as he drew one out. Opening the cover he looked down at his handwriting on the inside page - a present from a few years ago, one of several similar ones he’d made and gifted to her. Catching a random page he eased the pages over, supporting the weight of the photo album on his arm as he looked down at the photos he’d taken -- architecture, landscapes, animals, people and finally her.

He remembered taking this, back when they’d visited Paris on a successful mission and after completing it stopped for coffee. The appearance of the little niche coffee shop pictured behind her was almost painfully eclectic, the oversized armchair she occupied could have been a throne the way Noelle Girard sat in it, a lazy catlike smirk decorating her lips as she regarded him sat across from her -- camera always at the ready to capture moments like those. “She could always do that” he paused looking down at the picture before clarifying what he meant “--smile like she knew exactly when the world was going to end... Knowing her she probably knew the answer too.”

Diamonds Are Forever

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Hector & Daniel from Berlin Station (part ½)

Happy Birthday @heartoferebor <3

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Super Hornet, looking pretty super in the Star Wars Canyon, also known as the “Jedi transition” in military training range.  

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F/A-18E Super Hornet

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Final Approach London Heathrow, RWY27L by FourGreens