#kirills hair looks lighter

[kniesys]

they are attached at the hip i swear

[whump-me]

Obscure: Chapter 2

Chapter 2 of Obscure, novel-length interrogation whump about a rebel leader who can erase memories with a thought, an interrogator who can see inside his subjects’ minds… and the connection they share that neither of them suspects.

Masterpost | the Mind Games universe | Read the completed novel on Patreon

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Kirill

Kirill and Camille woke slowly together, crawling toward consciousness inch by cozy inch. They tugged each other unwillingly upward toward the lazy Saturday morning waiting for them. Kirill surfaced from dreams of fire. He gratefully emerged into the softness of her vanilla-scented hair against his nose and the arm she had draped possessively over his chest in her sleep.

Soft cotton sheets draped over the two of them like a lighter caress. They smelled like fresh laundry. Kirill eased his eyes open a little at a time. The first thing he saw was Camille’s expanse of long blond hair. Then, beyond her, the ferns he had brought a few weeks ago.

The ferns hadn’t died yet. Sunlight lay across their leaves in stripes formed by the Venetian blinds. The fronds drifted back and forth in the breeze from the air-conditioning vent. Like Kirill and Camille, they looked in no hurry to move fast on this long, lazy morning.

Camille opened her eyes with a groan that was half happiness, half reluctance. She blinked up at him and smiled. “I never knew your apartment was so comfortable,” she said, her voice thick with a half-asleep haze. The warm notes thrummed in his bones, threatening to send him drifting off again.

He smiled at her and tapped the tip of her nose. “It’s not like this is the first time you’ve seen it.”

“No, but it’s the first time I’ve stayed over,” she said. “And I wasn’t really paying attention last night.” She gave him a teasing grin. Then the grin turned into a soft smile of pure pleasure. She flopped off him, onto her back, and moved her arms up and down like she was making snow angels. “It’s so… soft,” she said, with the tone in her voice that people normally reserved for a beautiful sunset or a sublime bowl of ice cream.

“What can I say?” he said, making a couple of snow angels of his own. “I like soft and comfortable.” And for now, that was true, because that was what Camille liked, and he liked Camille. Loved her, even—if love was the word for discovering someone whose company could fill the hole inside you for a few blissful months.

The silky sheets were as new as the ferns. The ferns had come after he had visited Camille’s apartment and seen the explosion of greenery she kept there. He had asked her what kind of plant she liked best. She had said ferns.

It wasn’t manipulation. Not in anything but the most benign sense. He wasn’t trying to get anything more from her than she already wanted to give. Someday, maybe six or twelve months from now, they would be done with each other, with no hard feelings on either end. Kirill had long years of practice at keeping his breakups amicable. And when that day came, the soft sheets and the ferns would find their way to the trash bin outside.

But while she was here, he would give her what she liked. Because what he liked, more than any sheets or plants or long lazy mornings, was making her happy.

Her, or whoever took her place once she was gone.

“I’m going to make a pot of coffee,” he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“No, don’t leave,” she said in a playful groan, grabbing his wrist.

He tensed without meaning to. The hand around his wrist felt like a cuff holding him down to a hospital bed. Back before they had known they could trust him. Back before he had shown them they could take him at his word.

Back when they hadn’t known what effect their injections would have on him—and how dangerous he might be once the drugs did their work.

But that had been a long time ago. He had no need of old memories. Not his own, at least. And Camille’s skin was soft as her finger traced the vein on the underside of his wrist. It was nothing like the cold metal of his memory.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. Camille, mistaking it for a sigh, answered with one of her own.

“Go,” she said with theatrical resignation, loosening her grip. “Someone has to take one for the team and leave this slice of heaven so we can both have coffee. I’m just glad it doesn’t have to be me.” She screeched to the middle of the bed and lay back with an angelic smile. She closed her eyes. “Wake me when the coffee is ready.”

He stood and looked down at her with a soft smile and basked in the glow of being exactly what she needed.

He unplugged his phone, slipped it into his pocket, and padded toward the kitchen on bare feet. In the hallway, to his left, was a blank spot on the wall where his running medals had hung. His last girlfriend, Amanda, had been into races. She liked the exertion, and she liked the competition. They had run a race together almost every weekend.

Back then, he had genuinely enjoyed rising at the crack of dawn to sweat his way through the morning. It had made Amanda happy, and that was what had made him happy. Now, with the lazy weekend glow of Camille settling over the apartment like a pleasant scent in the air, the thought of all that running sounded impossibly exhausting.

His phone rang as he stepped into the kitchen. It was the ring that meant work—not the soothing buzz he had assigned to Camille, but a shrill sound that cut through the air like a freshly sharpened blade. A little of his weekend haze drifted away. He frowned as he pulled the phone from his pocket.

“Kirill Catallo,” he said. He said nothing else. He knew better than to complain about it being a weekend. PERI called him whenever they needed him.

“We have a job for you.” The voice on the other end didn’t bother with pleasantries. Sandhya Ramachandra, his assigned handler, never did. Not since Kirill had shown up in PERI headquarters almost thirty years ago in shoes with holes in the bottoms and pants that didn’t reach his ankles.

He poured water into the coffee machine by rote. “Where am I going this time?” It wouldn’t be hard to explain the sudden trip to Camille. He always told his girlfriends he had some job or other that involved large amounts of travel, to cover situations like this. Camille thought he was a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company. But he wasn’t ready to end his lazy weekend just yet.

“No travel,” said Ramachandra. “This one is at headquarters. Convenient for you.”

He frowned, even though Ramachandra was right about the convenience. He lived near headquarters because he needed to go in for his mandated checkups every three months, and because PERI didn’t want to let him too far out of their sight. But he stepped inside headquarters every four months, as required, and that was it.

He never accepted jobs at headquarters. They knew that. They had stopped asking.

He knew what a job at headquarters meant.

“No,” he said as the last of the lazy weekend haze burned off. “We’ve talked about this.”

“I know. But we need you.” Ramachandra’s voice was devoid of sympathy.

“You need me to get information from terrorists trained to resist interrogation, and to find where any but the most emotionless serial killers have buried their bodies. You have people for PERI business. People who aren’t me.”

“For this,” said Ramachandra, “we need you. And this is important enough that you can’t play the waste-of-your-talents card. This prisoner has been poaching talent from PERI for fifteen years. He has an entire network set up to change the identities of candidates and relocate them. We need that network located and shut down. We need you.”

“I don’t work with Enhanced prisoners.”

“Why not?” Ramachandra’s voice remained perfectly even, but Kirill read the challenge there. “You can’t say it’s beneath you this time. So what is it really about?”

Kirill understood the question underneath the question. Ramachandra had never outright accused him of having residual loyalties to his fellow Enhanced, but the insinuation was there every time he refused another headquarters job.

“I’m not trying to protect this person,” Kirill said, in a voice every bit as cold as Ramachandra had trained him to be. “You know better than that.”

“Then get in here,” Ramachandra said, and hung up.

Kirill shoved his phone back into his pocket.

His shoes were wet. Water ran in wide rivulets off the counter and onto the floor. He had filled the coffeemaker with twice as much water as he needed to make a pot of coffee. He was still filling it.

He stopped pouring. He blinked down at the puddle on the floor.

Then he softened his shoulders and his jaw. The lazy weekend smile returned effortlessly to his face as he walked back toward the bedroom to make his excuses to Camille. With any luck, she wouldn’t ask about the wet footprints.

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Tagged: @cakeinthevoid @suspicious-whumping-egg

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[multiverseanimecrossover]

Double Decker Heroes: Pamina Meets Barnaby/Trouble

Pamina was annoyed: "Oh, wait a minute. Some of those intellectual snobs are coming here? Great, those spoiled richly and trashy people who are nothing but insolent, arrogant, insufferably, imprudent bastards that are--" She ranted. But when she saw who it was, she stopped and ended it by saying, "--So hot!" Nott was bewildered before smiling at her niece, “Babycakes, should I ask him to come on over to him?” She teased.  “Oh man, do I look OK? Where's my stuff?”  said Pamina. She rummaging as she was talking to herself, "Hm, hm, hm...." Just then, she heard a familiar voice: "Hey beautiful, need a hand?" Pamina was so startled that she dropped her things and looked to grin nervously at him, "Beautiful? Me? Like hell, heh heh...Um, this is my aunt Nott." She said. However she saw her stuff on the ground, "Excuse me." Barnaby looked at her and he heard a female's voice, "Hi, Barnaby? I'm Nott." said Nott. Barnaby shake her hand, "Charmed." He said. "Your niece OK?" Barnaby asked, looking over at klutzy Pamina. Nott nodded, "Yeah...I guess." She said. Barnaby excused himself and came to Pamina's aid: "Need some help?" He asked. "I got it." Pamina claimed, a little embarrassed. Pamina was scrambling around her as she try to get the rest of her papers, but she accidentally touched Barnaby's hand. Blushing; she moved her hand away and try to not breathe out a gasp. "So, you're aunt works for a sponsor?" Barnby asked. Pamina shyly looked at him, "Oh yeah, she's pretty much of a hard class ain't she?" She ranted. Barnaby leaned over at her, "Sweet disaster is the perfect definition for someone like you." He purred. Pamina managed to squeak out a reply, "So true." She said in a dreamy voice. Aunt Nott stifled a laugh, “Well, I’m the hard class. I know how to work ‘em but you my boy really are a fast one. A rookie who got popular just for stepping in.” She commented. “Pretty surprising, huh.” Barnaby remarked. “Very.” Aunt Nott replied. Just t then; Barnaby got a call in from Kotetsu, the League of Vigilantes struck again! He excused himself and headed off. Pamina had a dreamy smile on her face, Aunt Nott just chuckled as she pulled her daughter out of her daydreams. “Come on, sweetheart.” She said. Later; Kotetsu, Barnaby, Doug and Kirill saw the remains of a corpse that is of Jisaj Snyder. A man being in and out of jail while being with a minor as well as kidnapping, assault and other crimes. This man was out of jail when one day he was arrested and sentenced to jail for life after he tortured and assaulted a girl. It was a gruesome sight, the guy was mangled and torn apart but nobody can figure out how they arrived and how they escaped.

After reviewing what they saw; Kotetsu noticed how disturbing all this was so he approached him with something that lightens his spirit. “If you want, we could arranged something. Maybe you can become a hero for just one day.” Kotetsu said. This made Kirill excited, he hugged Kotetsu. “Kid, kid. Take it easy!” Kotetsu choked out. Kirill realized this and released him. “Oh, sorry.” He apologized. “Sounds reasonable, a hero huh.” Doug asked. “Indeed, it could be fun. Maybe Kirill could get a good experience.” Barnaby replied. “Yeah, I like that idea too!” Kotetsu agreed. “So, you’re gonna make me a hero?” Kirill asked. Barnaby nodded, “We’re considering, it’ll be a one day opportunity.” He said. Kirill pumps his fists, “YES!” He exclaimed. Doug grinned, happy to see his partner get an opportunity. “Yup, we’ll have to find a sponsor who can--” Kotetsu ranted. “HOLD IT, YOU NEVER TOLD ME CORPORATION SPONSORS HEROES!!!” Kirill exclaimed. The color in Kotetsu’s face drained. “Um….oops?” He squeaked. “You never told him?” Barnaby asked, giving him the side eye look. “He never told you?” Doug asked. “Apparently not.” Kirill remarked. “I’m sorry, I forgot!” Kotetsu protested. “Sure, you’ll make him a hero but you won’t tell him about the sponsorship.” Barnaby snapped. “For the love of—IT’S COMPLICATED OK?!” Kotetsu exclaimed. “Well, he should know by now…but no, you failed to mention that!” Barnaby argued. “CUT ME SOME SLACK!!” Kotetsu quarreled. “You guys suck!” Kirill said, making a face. “No, we didn’t mean that!” Kotetsu and Barnaby said in unison. “One side, make way! Coming through!” A voice said, it was Pamina who looked excited. “Dammit to hell, League of Vigilantes strike again.” She replied in a sing song voice. “You know these people caused this?” Barnaby asked. “Are you confirming Crow Jane, Lawless, Killer Queen and the League of Vigilantes are responsible for this?” Pamina asked. “Well…there’s proof that they exist. I mean, this is all for some petty revenge.” Kotetsu inquired. Sneering; Pamina puts the lighter against the street ground and then combusts as it forms the insignia of the League of Vigilantes! She grins, “And you say they’re after petty revenge.” Pamina said. She flips her hair and walks away.

[lexareyouokay]

Anna Sashura Egorova// The Face Who Judges You

1. How does your OC feel about their full name?

Anna has no specific feelings towards it (maybe disdain). She is raised in a once noble family, who’s very dependent on the opulence once attached to their name.

2. What do strangers notice about them first?

Her smile (when she does it). It’s very rare that she actually grins or laughs, she lights up a room when she does though. Gregor in particular loves this on her.

3. How does their social personality differ from how they act when they’re alone?

Her social personality is very reserved, a little stand offish even. When she’s alone she tends to be more argumentative and lively. She likes to keep to herself overall.

4. How do they act around a crush?

If they are in private she tends to throw herself at them. She was like this with Kirill before he was sent off to the military, and ended up being this way with Gregor (once she warmed up to him during their engagement). Again, very reserved in public, more vivacious in private.

5. Do they have a “tell” for when they’re lying?

She learned how to lie from Kirill (or rather with him), she’s a good liar. Gentle as a dove, clever as a snake.

6. What do they smell like?

Anosmic, she lives in a pretty sterile environment where all she has is being well-read and walks around the garden. Towards the end of the story she is able to become more adventuress and I think while she was at sea she would start to take on a specific aroma.

7. What is their hair texture like?

Her hair is thick and tends to be bunched up, and a little curly. If she doesn’t brush it, it becomes very tangled and strangely.

8. How much jewelry do they wear, and do they have a favorite or distinguishing piece?

She wears her father's old ring around her neck, and also her engagement/wedding ring on her finger.

9. Do they have a word or phrase that they tend to overuse?

I have not come up with something for her, but she may say something that is religious. I see her as being somewhat pious but having more guilt than Kirill does. I think she would at least cross herself a lot.

10. What is a weird quality that they have (ie their hands are always cold, they’re always hungry, they snort when they laugh, etc)?

Not a weird quality, but in reference to the previous question, she would cross herself a lot.

11. What color do they look strikingly good in?

White or pastel colors. In particular old fashioned (1900-1905 ish) or lacey dresses. She is very lady like and the lighter colors extenuate how 

12. How do they show affection to someone they love?

She tries to be patient; little hand touches, smiles, taking care of them in general. She is a person who values duty.

13. Do they make strong/frequent eye contact when they talk to someone?

No, she avoids eye contact unless she’s comfortable with a person.

14. What attributes do they have that are inherited from their parents or shared with their siblings/other relatives?

She’s headstrong like her father, but her ability to mask her opinionated nature comes from her mother. She became a socialite with a hidden attitude that would make her a good sailor.

15. Are their greatest flaw and their greatest strength related and in what way? (ie very caring and helpful but a doormat, or very observant and shrewd but often paranoid)

Her greatest flaw would be her inability to confront Kirill over how vile he becomes, her greatest strength is how she conceals her actions in dangerous situations.

16. How has their childhood affected the way they view an aspect of their life (people, education, society, themselves, etc)?

Her father dying made her understand that she has a duty to marry well and support her family, deny herself, and make the best of a situation that could be very unpleasant otherwise.