#god I have so many feelings omar you are a genius

[kphobcapt]

andhera my dear love. i need to know what advisor’s reaction was the day that obsidian shard was placed. was he angry. did he hold his tongue and offer a quiet comforting touch. did he look at this beautiful lonely deeply feeling boy with bright eyes and a kind heart and think i will help him. they don’t see him but i see him. where is advisor i gotta know.

[kazbrkker]

Chapter 9: A Witness and Witless

Chapter summary: A realisation for Alexis, kindly dished by Captain Price. Meanwhile, danger is the gift that keeps on giving. (3284 words).

Warnings: N/A. 

29 October 2019, 0500 "Alexis" and "Alex" | Codename Aces CIA with SAS and Urzik militia Sakhra, Urzikstan

   Having her forehead split open had its benefit. Okay, maybe that was arguable, but Alexis was mildly grateful that the unbearable stings stirred her awake. It saved from her reliving a gauche situation: sleeping limbs entangled with her best friend, who she almost kissed, again.

They were practically squashed together, her head pillowed against his firm chest. Seeing how paranoid and sharp to his surroundings Alex was, his iron grips were challenging to snake out of it, good thing she had practice.

Here, at 5 am, while others were desperately chasing some sleep, Alexis was too engrossed in her own thoughts. The past 24 hours happened like a flash, and the Wolf was her highlight, making her fidget uncomfortably just at the thought.

You should have fought harder, been stronger, not falter at his baseless threats. Alexis had no one but herself to blame for allowing the Wolf to escape. The guilt her mistake carried fuelled the fire inside her, with revenge as additional gasoline to the mix.

The Chinese had a saying: "for what you do upon me, I'd unleash it ten times worse." Omar Sulaman would regret ever threatening her.

Seeking refuge under a dying tree at the residence's courtyard, she brooded in reflection. At least she figured out an end goal for the Wolf, but the friendship between Alex and her was shaky, at best. Alexis released an exhale of pent-up frustration, fingers weaving her chocolate locks into a braid. So immersed with overthinking, she almost failed to catch Price's approaching footsteps.

"No rest for the wicked, eh?" He arched a concerned brow at her stitches.

Alexis cracked a smile, "'Course." Patting beside her, she gestured for Price to take a seat with her on the patch of dried grass. "Please, don't be a nanny. Just sit down."

"Fantastic. I'm in no mood for that either," Price replied. His face briefly caught silvers of golden rays, accentuating the eye bags and fine lines that revealed just how much Price had aged since their last encounter. Even without the combat vest, his broad shoulders remained permanently slouched.

Alexis smelled smoke before the wisps floated past her. Witnessing how it relaxed Price, she shuts her mouth. "Something wrong?" she guessed, feeling the passing smoke layer her tongue with a woody fragrance, suddenly feeling the need to spit.

"The Butcher... Bastard didn't even spare a kid." Price took another deep inhale.

Alexis sighed, "We'll make him pay."

"Damn right." The price of war was a hefty one. And Alexis idolised John Price for his unwavering tenacity. By far, he was the most unbreakable person she'd ever met.

"So..." Alexis steered the topic, "What cover story did you tell Maddox and Forbes this time?"

Price scoffed lightly, a light-hearted undertone in his words, "Ah, I didn't bother. Bloody bitch about it, is all they do." Though Price, Maddox and Forbes all knew each other, Alexis always questioned what kind of Doomsday loomed over the world for a SAS Captain, Task Force Black's commander and a CIA handler to cross paths. Candidly, it made her excited to know why.

"Something going on between you and Alex?" Price questioned abruptly.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She confidently lied, ignoring the tingling sensation on her lips.

"For your sake, I hope you lie better when you're on the job," he mocked. Did she develop a tell? How did Price always know?

"Ah, it's just a bunch of gossips, don't feed into it."

"It's a reliable source," that piqued her curiosity.

"Kyle," she deadpanned, twisting her body towards Price. "Call MacTavish, I'm gonna skin Kyle alive."

Price hummed, giving her an amused look, "That'd be a waste of talent. So it's true, you two dating?"

She didn't even know the answer herself, so she replied with something safe, "We're friends, always have been." Her gaze averted to the small wildflowers blossoming under the base of the tree she leaned on. Chrysanthemums, its deep red petals swaying gently against the wind currents, almost like a greeting wave. Alexis scratched her head at the timely symbolism.

"Don't get stupid, you know better than most that nothing lasts forever," Price chided with a distant look in his eyes. "That boy looks at you like there isn't a war waging on."

Alexis sighed, twirling the stalks of red chrysanthemum hesitantly, "That's the problem. Wars are happening, it's selfish."

The Captain huffed almost disappointedly, "There's always a war. You see something you want, you best hold onto it before something blows it up."

"Shouldn't you advise me against fraternisation, Captain?" She smiled.

Staggered smokes escaped when Price let out a short laugh, "Whoever tries to boss you around is an idiot. Do I look like one?"

"No, no you're not," she chuckled, always finding wisdom in Price's words. So when he told her the way Alex looked at her wasn't platonic, she believed him. Not like it was unbelievable or anything. The way he tirelessly searched for her in a crowd every few moments—then smile when their gaze meets. With ample practices over the years, she'd successfully ignored how much he burned her insides with a simple look.

Now, maybe she didn't need to.

Alexis was always more of a spy than a soldier—at least, that was what Maddox always said about her. A natural God instinct to read the room, practically able to smell the changes like a bloodhound. Yet she was slow to pick up on the change in their friendship.

Slow, and a little reluctant. Now that she opened the floodgates that she guarded for so long, every possible feeling punched their way to her heart.

She was still in love with Alex. A chilling sensation ran over her spine when she inwardly admitted that. It puzzled her if it was relief or nerves? Either way, it jolted a new kind of excitement in her. Every exhale felt lighter.

"And what about you and Laswell?" Alexis retorted smugly, enjoying the rare stunned expression that slipped onto her mentor's face. "C'mon, give me some credit. The most impressive agent you've ever come across, right? I read your debrief about me from the Caucasus mission."

At his threatening frown, she held up surrendering hands, "Alright, alright! I'm done here."

Price ignored her teases, stubbing out his cigar at the base of the tree. "The Caucasus... That's what, 7 years ago? You just made JSOC back then."

Alexis cackled at the memory, "Back then you didn't have this glorious moustache. Remember when I pulled a knife on Mactavish?"

"Scared the lad shitless. Didn't show it, but sure as well saw it," Price continued, a smirk present on his face.

"I sure as hell felt it. Mactavish's pulse was jumping." Then she paused, realising Price purposely dodged her questions. So she tried again, "Don't avoid my questions, I'm a great matchmaker!"

He shot her a look, "Says the oblivious fool."

"Touche. But still-"

Luckily, Hadir spotted them, sliding open the residence's glass door and jogged up to them. "Oh, Hadir! Thank goodness you're here, Price was about to murder me."

Hadir squinted in confusion. "Ignore her," Price got to his feet and dusted the grass off his camo pants, sending the gleeful agent a hard glare. "Lass hit her head too hard, she's spewing rubbish. Careful, Hadir." He patted Hadir's back and started to head back to the house.

"C'mon mate!" Alexis yelled after him with a butchered English accent. "I said I'm sorry!" She laughed at Price's slightly gapped mouth.

"Did I mention?" His hands steadied against the sliding door, "You're benched!"

With that, Price slid the glass door closed, wearing an amused expression as she yelled pleads after him with no avail. "Petty old fellow."

Hadir sat on Price's previous spot, gracing her with a chocolate bar. Unlike commercial ones, military chocolate hardly tasted edible—for somebody who hated chocolates, it was a torture to sink her teeth into the hard cocoa blocks. "Hadir, you couldn't find anything else?"

"It's chocolate!"

"You think."

His enthusiasm didn't die down as he chowed down his own energy bar, but after a few chews, Hadir promptly stuck out his tongue in disgust, earning a burst of hearty laughter from Alexis, "People eat this?"

"Dumb soldiers do. But the smart ones..." Alexis pulled out a packet of biscuits from the side pocket of her pants, wiggling in front of Hadir. She snatched the cup of hot water from him and dunked the biscuits in, much to his protests. Seconds later, the biscuit softened to a texture that resembled a sponge cake. Alexis urged the wide-eyed Hadir to take a bite.

Hadir was sceptical until he tried it, pleasantly surprised. He praised, "Finally, some food fit for humans!"

"Genius, right?" He nodded in agreement, passing her the cup to share. "And I can see that look in your eyes that you want to ask if I'm okay, so answer your question: I'm fine, although I'm sick of people asking me that. Thinking about tattooing the answer across my forehead, wanna help?"

"Horrible idea... Count me in. But no, not your injuries, here," he pointed at his heart. "You feel bad for letting the Wolf go, I know. It's not your fault, Alena– Alexis," he corrected. "Your names are confusing."

The smirk on her face faltered slightly. Though it quickly returned, Hadir already saw the cracks in her smile. Then she decided not to bother with the facade. "I should have fought harder. I imagine there are people who should be alive right now if not for me."

"Like I said, not your fault. In all my years, you got my sister and me closer than we've ever been to end this war... We've lost many brothers and sisters to get to this point. Between Barkov and the Wolf, I'm not sure which of these dogs are worse." His words had a certain edge in them, reminding her how much this war changed Hadir. "But they are not careless men. Why did the Wolf keep you alive?"

"Said he wanted to watch me suffer," Alexis answered honestly, hesitantly taking another bite of her dessert. "Jokes on him. I'm gonna crush him. We're gonna fucking crush them."

Hadir pulled his legs closer to his chest, returning a small smile when she rested a comforting hand on his knees, "With a big enough stone, right?"

"Damn right."

━━━━━━

Even with the miraculous arrival of a second chance, it doesn't mean Alexis made it easy. Now was the perfect example for his argument.

"Maybe you did hit your head too hard—look in the mirror and tell me if you see a large cut across your forehead, because I might be seeing things." He pinched his nose bridge in distress. Price had tasked the very injured Alexis to sweep houses with Bravo Team, take it easy and all.

Alexis wore a polite smile and calmly said, "Fuck you."

"How eager," he retorted, knowing just the way to irk her.

She threw up her trusty middle finger, "Hard pass."

Really? She thought, playing hard to get is so 2002, Alexis.

"Really?" He moved closer, and except for a hardened face, Alexis did nothing to stop him. Trapped between Alex and a table, she breathily observed the blue flecks in his irises, avoiding his alluring pink lips that was definitely calling to her. "Trouble breathing?"

Alexis swallowed her nerves, "The only trouble I'm having is my lack of personal space."

"Ouch..." His head fell defeatedly on her shoulder, chuckling. "Lexi, honey..." he gilded, eyes boring into her own. She kept still and bit her tongue at the pet name, watching his gaze travel down her face, maybe her lips.

Alex pressed more of his weight against her, "Be a good girl for me. Consider I said please."

Her heart quickened, sparing a quick glance at the wide-open door full of Marines who stood oblivious to their actions, but if they continued standing in this position, it was just a matter of time. "You're adding to the rumours..."

"So everybody thinks we're dating, big deal." He slammed the door shut to prove a point.

Are we? What is this between us?

She tasted the words on the tip of her tongue. Alex's flirting had become painfully obvious that she wasn't the sole player of this game anymore. And instead of addressing it, her wickedness took over—lightly chewing down her lips just to confirm her suspicions again.

A knowing smile slowly builds when he took the bait.

Alex blinked rapidly, retreating instantly. His attempt to clear his throat was pathetic, voice throaty as he said, "You're going with Bravo, no arguments."

"Like hell. The medic cleared me!"

Alex paused thoughtfully, rolling up his sleeves up his forearm. If this was his sly attempt to distract her, it worked. Reasons beyond her, his tattooed arms were incredibly attractive. "Was that before or after you threaten him?"

He didn't... Alexis recalled the easily convinced medic. Sue her for having a way with words. She smiled sweetly, refocusing on packing her combat bag, "You have no proof."

"Tell that to your face," he rolled his eyes. "Babe, come on, there's not enough time for me to tie you to a bed."

She'd admit to almost choking at his unexpected comment. Like a good spy, she hung a scowl at his charming smirk—refusing to play into his trap. Then, she internalised his appearance, styled hair, in the middle of a war. Still so vain. Probably trying to impress her, cute.

"Number one, you're god damn shameless–"

"I call it honesty," he shrugged.

"Outrageous, not to mention scandalous-" she corrected.

Alex huffed, throwing his head back briefly.

"Number two, I'm pretty sure Wade outside there, who was shot in the thigh is still on the mission. Talk about a double standard."

Usually, this danger zone was when Alex would back off. But today, she was convinced he had an intensified case of a stick up his ass. Still, he brazenly took the loaded magazines off her hands. "I'm trying to not treat you any differently from the boys, if that's what you're implying. I just don't want anything else to happen to you, Alexis."

"But I am different, Alex! I'm not the boys," the menace in her voice was hard to miss, a stark juxtaposition to the playfulness, "I don't want to be one of the boys. Read my damn resume, you really think this injury will be the one to do me in?" Her neck craned upwards to meet him, "I'm still standing. I can do this."

Alex finally uncrossed his arms and nodded, "Okay."

She cast a suspicious sideways glance, "That's it?"

Alex hummed– actually hummed this time. Her eyebrows shot heavenward, which amused him. "You expected a few more rounds, didn't you?" At her nod, "I trust you, that's all."

"Huh... Usually, you'd try harder. Say something melodramatic like: No, Alexis! You'll quite possibly die, bleed out to death–"

"Defamatory, I do not sound like that," he insisted upon her dramatic pause and casual dismissal of hands.

Alexis poked accusingly into his chest, "Something's wrong with you." He smirked like he knew something she didn't, and ironically, she did. You're not that slick, Romeo. Two can play this game.

"Funny. Here I thought a master profiler like yourself had better skills."

Part of her questioned if it was a double meaning, but shook it off. Grabbing her stolen magazines from his grasp, "Come on, we have a war to fight."

She wondered if Alex's blood had always run so hot when she reached over to grab his arm, surely she wasn't the only one who felt that. But Alex remained silent and allowed her to push him towards the door. They were about to step out until her satellite phone sounded. The two shared looks of caution at the odd notion, her phone hardly rang. Alex was the designated communication channel, and with Price's arrival, he carried that responsibility.

Unless it was an emergency... She quickly accepted the call. "This is a secured line, identify yourself and how you got this number."

"I have my ways. Good to hear you're still breathing."

Her shoulders relaxed, "Ruddiger. Why wouldn't I– Did something happen?"

"Saint, listen carefully, I don't have much time."  She mumbled a quick apology before kicking him out the room.

"Okay, I'm ready."

"After you left, we got a tip about Valhalla's safe house. It was a scam to draw our attention away from Boucher." Her stomach clenched at the ominous feeling. "He's dead. Someone got to him."

"In the Hostel? That's not possible." The whole point of a Blacksite was that it didn't exist.

"It's true, Saint. I saw his body with my own eyes. We found a tracker—plastic polymer, explains why it didn't show up when we wanded him." He continued when Alexis didn't reply, "This shit gets worse. They got a list... Of everybody who's on the op."

Her heart stopped right then, "No fucking way. Where are you now? And wait, this is high-level intel, how do you-"

"I'm officially CIA, thanks to your glowing recommendation. So technically, I'm also here to say I owe you one. The welcoming committee sucks, they're putting us in safe houses. All except you."

Then Alex burst through the doors, signalling it was time to move, but paused at her ghastly face. She held up a shaky hand, "Well, fuck, mon sauveur, huh? Thanks for the intel, but you do know you just broke protocol?"

From the anxious rubs on her face, Alex knew something was really wrong.

Ruddiger laughed on the other line, "Consider it my gratitude for your olive branch. I gotta go. Stay safe, Saint. You'll never know how far Valhalla can reach."

"I'm in the middle of a war. He'll never find me here," she braved through the unsteadiness in her voice. When the call ended, she remained on the chair, still profoundly dumbstruck. She didn't know which was worse: that someone managed to infiltrate a Level 10 CIA blacksite, spooking Valhalla, or that her name was sitting somewhere on a hit list.

Another question bagged her, was it her real name? A thousand worries crashed down onto her. Why haven't Forbes or Maddox called?

"Hey," Alexis jumped at the touch, instilling more fret in Alex, who kneeled before her chair. "You're shaking. You okay?"

Alexis knew Alex wouldn't stop until he got an answer. Yet she couldn't give it to him, she'd put him in danger.

"Always," she mustered the biggest smile she could. And because of that, Alex saw right through her. But there wasn't time to dig further, they had a war to fight. Besides, for all she knew, she was safe, for now.

If Forbes or Maddox haven't called, it meant she was still safe. She'd focus on that.

When she wordlessly slung her rifle and holstered her guns, there was a heavier feeling bubbling inside her. Alexis didn't have a good omen, but she couldn't pinpoint if her gut was referring to today's war, or the brewing one.

Ah fuck, is there a difference? War is war.

War is war, was her final thought as she got ready to start a day full of tragedies.

Alexis should have listened to her gut.

‧͙⁺˚*·༓

a/n: taking a minute to say thank you to all of you!! i never thought Killer Instinct would receive so much love, but here we are, thank you lovers!!

taglist: @flyboidameron @wanderlustgiant @captain-pikas-world​ (wanna be tagged? lmk!)

[shotbyafool]

I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out what the “masses” will buy and what they won’t. clearly it’s not as cut-and-dry as who wins Tony’s – The Band’s Visit, the relative underdog of its year, swept for 10 Tony’s last year and yet Hadestown, a pretty obvious winner, got 8 and exponential more popularity – but there are clear patterns. plays are always going to get very little recognition (I got tickets to best play winner The Ferryman 30 minutes before the show began for $40 straight-up, a fantastic spot in the back orchestra) but even some of the musicals are sort of... anomalies? 

I guess I’m mostly thinking about The Band’s Visit, which closed early because they were running out of money. The Band’s Visit, which made history for so many Middle Eastern theater creators, swept its awards season, got a Grammy of all things, closed because of money. and you would think that means the other shows would be closed, too, but 2/3 of the shows which lost best musical are still running. shows which didn’t win any Tony’s at all!

and I suppose that’s because The Band’s Visit refused to be commercialized, was firm in its silence and poignancy, but I can’t say that Hadestown, with a line running down the block at 9am, 3 hours before they start selling, Hadestown with its years of work and heart poured into it, has commercialized itself. 

but even still, there’s something you can market in Hadestown, in the power of this show, voices strong and echoing throughout a space, an age-old story that we all can trace in novels and in poems but told anew. I think the marketing is done in a genius way, focusing on the actors and the sheer strength of everyone, something uplifting

and I can’t help think that The Band’s Visit closed because it never really was about strength, was it? it was about loss, and quiet moments, and the things left unsaid. it was some unknown story told in Hebrew and in Arabic and in broken English. it’s about characters, not a story, whereas Hadestown is about a story and its characters. the distinction seems important: what makes Hadestown intriguing is the story which we knew getting changed because of this light shed on characters, but that story still drives it. The Band’s Visit seemingly has no story. the band visits. it’s in the name, Dina says, it’s not very interesting. it’s about people, not what they do, but just who they are in stagnancy.

and I just use Hadestown as an example: those other best musical nominees are stories retold which we know and love. the year before that, Dear Evan Hansen wins because of the power of this story. Hamilton wins because of an untold story, etc. I think, in fact, Hadestown is the least prone to that senseless commercialization of the others, because it is fundamentally a show that is hard to sell, but it... works? I guess I wish I knew how it worked so well, how it cracked the code that Great Comet couldn’t quite. what makes such a bizarre musical marketable? is there really a difference in adapting Orpheus and Eurydice vs. War and Peace? there must be, and I can’t help that think that Hadestown uses very similar techniques to Great Comet, but to greater avail because Great Comet sort of, must have, paved the way.

(but I do think Hadestown was obviously going to sell better than Great Comet, though the fanbases are about the same... general theatergoers already know about Orpheus and Eurydice and the story is so accessible while War and Peace is so utterly alienating. which is horribly depressing, but something in that shuts people off. I wonder how Moby Dick, will fare in the world of New York theater, because that text is similarly alienating though more widely-read.

and, on that point, you can walk into a theater not knowing about Orpheus and Eurydice and feel just fine, we lean towards the Greeks and sort of consider it a general part of our Literature Canon, but people are frightened to walk into a War and Peace musical unknowing. something about assumed elitism, I’d wager, which shuts out quite a lot of older theatergoers.)

God, it just makes me kind of sad, to think that this show which won so much was destined for ending because it was literally unable to market itself as some grand spectacle. The Band’s Visit is a boring story about nothing really in particular, and how is that a sell? 

you can’t sell it without talking about the acting, the singing, the music, but when I try to think of myself explaining it to people, it falls flat. how do we explain something touching us like that, in the way that The Band’s Visit does? there is no loud pain, no perfect screenshots, no hands reaching for hands and voices crying out set to music. it’s men and women refusing to say things and singing about characters on a screen.I can really only think of Omar Shariff as a song to show in order to convince, which is why they performed it. it has the voices curving in and out and hands floating around the face, but it is not The Band’s Visit. I feel the musical most, if anything, in its scenes and its quiet. 

I guess I’m just getting sad again. I’m really happy to see Hadestown see such amazing success after what happened to Great Comet, but between these two years is The Band’s Visit, which, I feel, is something which will be forgotten. so overlooked by audiences and for a reason which I can only believe  are also the reasons that made it so good: the irrelevant story, the powerful characters, the quiet moments. 

The Band’s Visit... deserved so much more