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open post.
text messages, brackets, prose, anything goes!
text messages, brackets, prose, anything goes!
( it's raining. like always.
the year after v-day is hell for all governmental parties. while valentine's plot hadn't come to full fruition — there'd not been a 99% wipe out of humanity all across the globe, and his chosen few hadn't repopulated the earth and molded its process with his hand picked gene pool — there'd still been significant casualities. even after it's released that richmond valentine had been behind it all, there'd still been mass scrambling to cover the asses of the (remaining) elected officials that didn't check up on his projects. the world calls for all private technology companies to go public with all their endevours, and the ensuing chaos and deep seeded distrust of all powerful people made for prime conditions for crime to spring up. everything from petty theft to grand scale heists and expansive human trafficking rings, and with half the kingsman's original roster having gotten their heads blown off like the rest of valentine's pocketed party goers, that leaves them a bit short staffed while merlin (or arthur, as absolutely no one calls him) trains new recruits.
they aren't solitary creatures; everyone's perfectly capable of working as a team, but the facts are they haven't got enough members to allow for double missions anymore — nor do they have enough numbers to allow anyone a vacation. so from june to march of the next year, roxy barely sets foot in her own home (a company perk and looking like something out of a catologue, it's that untouched) and seldom stops by hq except to shower, change, debrief, and pick up her new plane tickets to the other side of the world. she spends a month in america rooting out an underground drug ring intent on recreating the effects of valentine's v-chip, but in snortable form, and another two in france, worming her way into the newly established mafia in attempts at getting close enough to their leader to cap him.
most of the time she's in very little contact with merlin, the voice in her ear only chiming in when information has changed — this is no longer a recon mission, terminate at your discretion, lancelot — or when she does something wrong. roxy learns early on that updates from home are a no-go while in enemy territory (not that either of her parents are thrilled by this mysterious and dumb tailoring position she's accepted), and updates on her fellow kingsman are just ridiculous to even ask for. and she loves her job, really. but she can't help think that it'd be nice to spend a few quality hours around people she might not have to shoot in the face next week.
so naturally, one of the few occasions where she's not immediately whisked off to minsk or bulgaria upon arrival at the uk hq, and when she hears eggsy's flying in the same evening, roxy politely asks (all but begs) to play valet and pick him up from the public air strip. and merlin — sir one of my recruits just actually shot his fucking dog and i'm tired merlin — doesn't put up much of a fight about it, just asks that galahad be brought back to the mansion for debrief so they could be done with the mess in costa rica.
it's a simple black town car, and she's in her simple kingsman issue jacket, leaning up against the passenger door when the plane touches down. roxy's got an umbrella overhead because what had started as a light drizzle quickly became huge, soaking droplets intent on soaking one to the bone, but she's smiling. and strolls out to meet him on the tarmac, lifting the edge of the umbrella to cover his head as well. )
I heard you'd ordered a taxi, sir, ( she teases, nodding her head back to the comandeered self driving taxi and trying to pretend she wasn't really damned happy to see him — perhaps even happy to ignore merlin's demand for his return and take the scenic, long route in order to catch up. )
( merlin isn't exactly shy about it.
he slides the manila folders into their hands, cues up the screen to introduce them to richard and petra justice — who were apparently earned their way onto the kingsman's persons of interest list by supposedly stealing millions of peoples identities, including those of important political standing, and their intentions of what to do with the stolen information was yet unknown — and announces, congradulations when they get to the back of the file and find the neatly printed, top notched forgery of a marriage certificate for gary and roxanne alden. roxy's first thought is something along the lines of oh, this is a very good fake followed by oh, that's because we have an entire department dedicated to producing faux documents on the fly for everything from passports to birth certificates.
when what she's reading finally catches up up with her, she scowls at merlin curiously until he tells them they'll be moving in next door to the justices and will be worming their way into the older couples hearts until they trust them enough to leave them alone with their computers (or cds, or floppy disks, or flash drives, or external harddrives — whatever the files were being stored on, and figuring that out was merlin's responsibility), which they are then to destroy. he leaves the how up to the two of them.
and what better way to brainstorm mission tactics than to get drunk on roxy's pristine white sofa?
there is none, that's the best way. this mission is a lot more intel than action thus far; they're playing roles and must solidify their backing as well as their plans for execution of the data destrution. and right after they bust a gut laughing at (but not off) the plan of eggsy seducing both of their neighbors-to-be, roxy takes a swig of wine and make a contemplative hum in the back of her throat. )
We ought to have just lost a baby.
[An organization as well-funded as Kingsman has plenty of resources for its two newest Knights to take advantage of, and today Eggsy and Roxy have decided to go down to the shooting range.
These days, it's like Eggsy can't handle not having something to do. On the stretches of time when he's not on some death-defying mission, he searches for ways to pass the time. He has an idea of why -- because if he stops, then he'll actually have time to think. He hasn't truly had any closure on Harry's death and it's eating at him, but there's nothing that can really be said about it, is there? Harry's dead, he's not coming back, and they're not even allowed to honor him or even put up a grave site to visit.
If Roxy's having any similar struggles, Eggsy hasn't seen any sign of it. She's rock solid, able to hide whatever she's feeling behind a more composed exterior. Like a true Knight should be able to do under any circumstances. Eggsy feels as if he's still behind and struggling to catch up with her near-perfect example.
Not that he resents her for it. Eggsy is proud of her, always has been.
They've pulled out a variety of different handguns and rifles to test out on the range. Both of them have impeccable weapons scores, so this is hardly necessary, but it's something to do and that's what matters.
He takes his turn, shooting at a target fifteen yards away with a handgun. He hits every circled point on the imitation of a human body before spinning around to face Roxy, clicking the safety on before setting the gun back down.]
Like to see you do better than that. [He winks at her, knowing full well she probably can.]
These days, it's like Eggsy can't handle not having something to do. On the stretches of time when he's not on some death-defying mission, he searches for ways to pass the time. He has an idea of why -- because if he stops, then he'll actually have time to think. He hasn't truly had any closure on Harry's death and it's eating at him, but there's nothing that can really be said about it, is there? Harry's dead, he's not coming back, and they're not even allowed to honor him or even put up a grave site to visit.
If Roxy's having any similar struggles, Eggsy hasn't seen any sign of it. She's rock solid, able to hide whatever she's feeling behind a more composed exterior. Like a true Knight should be able to do under any circumstances. Eggsy feels as if he's still behind and struggling to catch up with her near-perfect example.
Not that he resents her for it. Eggsy is proud of her, always has been.
They've pulled out a variety of different handguns and rifles to test out on the range. Both of them have impeccable weapons scores, so this is hardly necessary, but it's something to do and that's what matters.
He takes his turn, shooting at a target fifteen yards away with a handgun. He hits every circled point on the imitation of a human body before spinning around to face Roxy, clicking the safety on before setting the gun back down.]
Like to see you do better than that. [He winks at her, knowing full well she probably can.]
( good, because she's out of the car and up the front steps in a matter of seconds, twisting the doorknob despite ettiquette dictation she still ought to knock, and pushing into the house with an aura of poorly contained emotions; it's like a bubble inside her chest that's waiting to pop, but for appearances sake, roxy just holds her chin up in greeting and pushes the door shut behind her. )
Sorry, ( is the first thing out of her mouth; but it's flat, and she doesn't sound all that sorry at all. ) I would have called earlier, but I was in the neighborhood.
Sorry, ( is the first thing out of her mouth; but it's flat, and she doesn't sound all that sorry at all. ) I would have called earlier, but I was in the neighborhood.
[Eggsy's first thought when he sees the marriage certificate is also that it's a good fake, but his second is more along the lines of how is he supposed to pretend he's a well-adjusted individual who's married and is moving into a house? It's one thing to act like he's some greasy, arrogant young professional at a gala, and something else entirely to run around playing house and being all domestic and shit.
Still, a job is a job, and he has to learn all aspects of being a Kingsman -- not just the running around shooting guns and tackling people bits.
At least they do have some time to brainstorm, because Eggsy is going to need a good helping of preparation if he's going to pull this off properly. Roxy is his best friend, don't get him wrong, but he's never thought of her like that. Their friendship had been forged in the trenches, so to speak. It goes far beyond the manufactured romance angle that they'll have to play for this assignment.
He sways on the couch, already half-drunk but determined not to spill any of the red wine on Roxy's pure white couch.
That suggestion causes Eggsy to raise an eyebrow, his mouth thinning out into a far more sober expression. That's a pretty tough scenario to have to try and keep up, especially if this ends up taking them a few weeks of being in deep cover.] I dunno, Rox. That kind of grief -- makin' it believable? Seems like a hard sell.
[Granted, in his case, all he has to do is focus on what he'd feel like if something happened to his baby sister, and he could probably get the waterworks going. Whether he can actually be convincing with it is another question entirely, though.]
Still, a job is a job, and he has to learn all aspects of being a Kingsman -- not just the running around shooting guns and tackling people bits.
At least they do have some time to brainstorm, because Eggsy is going to need a good helping of preparation if he's going to pull this off properly. Roxy is his best friend, don't get him wrong, but he's never thought of her like that. Their friendship had been forged in the trenches, so to speak. It goes far beyond the manufactured romance angle that they'll have to play for this assignment.
He sways on the couch, already half-drunk but determined not to spill any of the red wine on Roxy's pure white couch.
That suggestion causes Eggsy to raise an eyebrow, his mouth thinning out into a far more sober expression. That's a pretty tough scenario to have to try and keep up, especially if this ends up taking them a few weeks of being in deep cover.] I dunno, Rox. That kind of grief -- makin' it believable? Seems like a hard sell.
[Granted, in his case, all he has to do is focus on what he'd feel like if something happened to his baby sister, and he could probably get the waterworks going. Whether he can actually be convincing with it is another question entirely, though.]
[Etiquette be damned. Eggsy had hoped that Roxy would be able to put her manners to the side long enough to just take the hint and come inside, and thankfully she does. He's making his way down the stairs by the time that she comes inside, JB quick on his heels. As soon as the pup realizes who's come to visit, he lets out an excited bark and rushes past Eggsy's ankles in greeting.
But Eggsy senses what JB doesn't. That something is wrong. It's all in Roxy's voice, which is almost monotone. She's trying her best to keep a neutral expression, but she's drained somehow.
Mouth twisting downward, Eggsy takes the last few steps two at a time and then pauses right in front of Roxy to look her over. He works his jaw and peers at her face.]
What is it?
But Eggsy senses what JB doesn't. That something is wrong. It's all in Roxy's voice, which is almost monotone. She's trying her best to keep a neutral expression, but she's drained somehow.
Mouth twisting downward, Eggsy takes the last few steps two at a time and then pauses right in front of Roxy to look her over. He works his jaw and peers at her face.]
What is it?
( at least for a moment, at least out of societal propriety (true friends are a rarity; most ask you how you are and don't really care, so if you shake them off the first time, they'll stop asking, and so) — roxy lies. raises her chin and sounds huffy that he'd even ask. )
I was in the neighborhood, ( is the pointed repetition, then she kneels to briefly pet jb. )
I was in the neighborhood, ( is the pointed repetition, then she kneels to briefly pet jb. )
[The mess in Costa Rica is more or less done with, finally. Eggsy's been at it for a month now, because this assignment hadn't been as simple as showing up, shooting the bad guys, and then flying home to pick up the next mission. No, this had involved a powerful man by the name of Harley Jamison, one who'd pledged himself to Valentine but whose paranoia had led him to cut his own chip out of his neck -- meaning that he's one of the few who had been spared when Merlin had triggered all the chips to go off.
It seems like a rational person would have considered themselves lucky and quit while they were ahead, gone into hiding or at least kept their head down, but not Jamison. He had decided to install himself in Costa Rica of all places, to try and start his own tiny dictatorship, although those things don't ever remain small, and any subjugation of a people can't be ignored.
Besides, any remnant of Valentine's work Eggsy sees as his responsibility. He'd more or less demanded that Merlin assign this job to him.
Which is something he regrets a bit now, if only because it had been a lot of work. He'd had to infiltrate Jamison's ranks and slowly but surely turn his men against him by spreading information about him -- without being too obvious about what he was doing. Then he had to convince a small homegrown militia to rise up against him and overthrow him, something that had ultimately been successful. He can be glad about that, at least, but mostly Eggsy is just exhausted, especially after the long flight home.
So when he exits the plane and finds that London is being drenched in rain, Eggsy isn't too thrilled about it. He's accustomed to it, of course, having grown up here, but he isn't in the mood to be soaked through. Thankfully, someone has come to his rescue. At first all he can see is the black umbrella, but soon enough it's tilted back and Eggsy is treated with a look at Roxy's face. He hasn't seen her in person in months, though they send messages back and forth when they can, and so he's grinning (wearily, but still grinning) as he approaches.
Whereas Roxy does what she can to be casual about it, Eggsy doesn't make any effort to hide how relieved he is.] Ain't you a sight for sore eyes. [He edges under the umbrella and then closer, invading Roxy's personal space to wrap both arms around her.
She's warm, and he buries his face into her shoulder. They're the only ones out here, he doesn't have to worry about appearances.]
It seems like a rational person would have considered themselves lucky and quit while they were ahead, gone into hiding or at least kept their head down, but not Jamison. He had decided to install himself in Costa Rica of all places, to try and start his own tiny dictatorship, although those things don't ever remain small, and any subjugation of a people can't be ignored.
Besides, any remnant of Valentine's work Eggsy sees as his responsibility. He'd more or less demanded that Merlin assign this job to him.
Which is something he regrets a bit now, if only because it had been a lot of work. He'd had to infiltrate Jamison's ranks and slowly but surely turn his men against him by spreading information about him -- without being too obvious about what he was doing. Then he had to convince a small homegrown militia to rise up against him and overthrow him, something that had ultimately been successful. He can be glad about that, at least, but mostly Eggsy is just exhausted, especially after the long flight home.
So when he exits the plane and finds that London is being drenched in rain, Eggsy isn't too thrilled about it. He's accustomed to it, of course, having grown up here, but he isn't in the mood to be soaked through. Thankfully, someone has come to his rescue. At first all he can see is the black umbrella, but soon enough it's tilted back and Eggsy is treated with a look at Roxy's face. He hasn't seen her in person in months, though they send messages back and forth when they can, and so he's grinning (wearily, but still grinning) as he approaches.
Whereas Roxy does what she can to be casual about it, Eggsy doesn't make any effort to hide how relieved he is.] Ain't you a sight for sore eyes. [He edges under the umbrella and then closer, invading Roxy's personal space to wrap both arms around her.
She's warm, and he buries his face into her shoulder. They're the only ones out here, he doesn't have to worry about appearances.]
In the neighborhood for what?
[Sorry, but Eggsy doesn't buy it. Roxy may not have a lot of tells, but this isn't normal behavior for her and she must be here for something, even if she's having a hard time saying it. Company is what she needs, obviously, but there must be a reason behind the sudden visit, some problem that spurred Roxy here.
Eggsy drags his teeth over his bottom lip in thought and then glances toward the kitchen.] Want some tea?
[Sorry, but Eggsy doesn't buy it. Roxy may not have a lot of tells, but this isn't normal behavior for her and she must be here for something, even if she's having a hard time saying it. Company is what she needs, obviously, but there must be a reason behind the sudden visit, some problem that spurred Roxy here.
Eggsy drags his teeth over his bottom lip in thought and then glances toward the kitchen.] Want some tea?
( tea is a vice as much as platitudes and pleasantries are; a regular occurance in he morton househole and calming in the near-daily repetition if not the herbal blends themselves. eggsy offers tea and she nods with stiff enthusiasim — yes please god tea; anything — before forcing a little smile. )
That sounds lovely. Yes, please.
( and roxy will follow him into the kitchen; help so much as to bring down a pair of mugs from the cupboard before retiring to lean against the counter and watch eggsy busy himself with the kettle. it's not an uncomfortable silence betweeen them by any mean, but it's weighted with anticipation and she doesn't look directly at eggsy when she speaks — no, the tiled floor has suddenly become incredibly interesting. )
Percival is in the hospital.
( are those floral patterns? how cute. )
An A&E in Germany, specifically. Not our medical ward.
( and the grout was so clean — she must get the number of the cleaning company michelle employeed. )
He's alive, but in critical condition. Merlin notified me on a professional level, but then my mother called me too.
That sounds lovely. Yes, please.
( and roxy will follow him into the kitchen; help so much as to bring down a pair of mugs from the cupboard before retiring to lean against the counter and watch eggsy busy himself with the kettle. it's not an uncomfortable silence betweeen them by any mean, but it's weighted with anticipation and she doesn't look directly at eggsy when she speaks — no, the tiled floor has suddenly become incredibly interesting. )
Percival is in the hospital.
( are those floral patterns? how cute. )
An A&E in Germany, specifically. Not our medical ward.
( and the grout was so clean — she must get the number of the cleaning company michelle employeed. )
He's alive, but in critical condition. Merlin notified me on a professional level, but then my mother called me too.
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