It was the beginning of a new day. 

The sun rose with lazy surety into the sky, stretching its rosy fingers across the landscape. It tinted the world golden- the city skylines, the ruins, the sprawling ashland. A lovely morning, really, to those who were awake to see it. 

Dawn had woken up not long ago, after Pierrot dropped by to shake her up for her shift. It was unnecessary by this point- most of the others would be rising soon, anyway, so there wouldn’t be need for a watch until night rolled around again- but she had the feeling that the clown just wanted to sneak in as much sleep as he could before things got too busy. It was hard to blame him, really. The move had left many of them exhausted as it stood.

They had been living in Helton for a time, the forsaken Erubescian city of corpses and curses. An eerie, rather unpleasant place, but decent enough once some of the...old residents had been properly cleared out. Livable. Safe enough to start feeling somewhat homey, at the very least. Unfortunately for them, it hadn’t taken too long for them to be found- Liberty forces swooping in to flush them all out. They had barely managed to grab what they could before escaping, and it had taken nearly a week for them to find somewhere else that was relatively suitable to live. 

The ranch had been long abandoned, that much was for certain. What remained of the fencing was now just a few stubbly pieces of wood rising from the ground, and most of the stable’s roof had caved in by now. There were several places in both the house and barn alike where some of the panelling had rotted away, and the floors had been littered with rat spoor, white and powdered with age. But the roof over their head kept out the weather. There had been a treasure trove of canned and preserved goods in the pantries and cellar. It was secluded enough that there was no sign of other Gifted life for miles, at the very least. As far as shelters went, this one seemed satisfactory. 

Still, there was much to be done to get things in full working order. To keep her mind occupied. Pulling her hair into its usual neat side-plaiting, Dawn made her way to the house’s office, stepping as quietly as possible so as to not disturb the group. Like some others, she had been combing the property for supplies, although her eye was on one thing in particular- maps. Most of the ones she had found were heavily outdated by now, but they still had their worth in the lay of the land. Old streets, locations where a town or store or neighbor’s house might be located. They’d likely be doing another sweep today, and any bit of information helped. 

What scraps of paper she had found had been spread across the desk, kept pinned in place with stones and chunks of brick. Several were written over with markings and notes, while others were still relatively blank. Ones that hadn’t yet been put to use. Dawn drew an old pencil stub from her pocket and leaned over the table, idly thumbling the point as she looked the sheets over. Her Gift was left active- range pushed as far as she could without draining too much of her energy. She was still on watch, after all. 

Dawn got to work. 

Life went on.

[hr]

It was hardly uncommon to find the Head of Espionage slumped over across her desk, head burrowed into her arms- especially so early in the morning. It also wasn’t particularly strange for her to largely stick to her office and the local coffee machine for the first few hours of the day, a distant, unfocused sort of look on her face. As such, Heather being seen shuffling determinedly down the halls, tablet in hand, was a somewhat momentous occasion.

In all truth, Heather wanted nothing more than to return to the comfort of her dimly-lit room, but there was business to be done. Preparations for the Infiltration had been trudging on for some time now, and it seemed about time to drop by and see how they were going for herself. It was a very important mission, after all, and required very particular attentions. Especially with a few fresher Agents on the team. 

Returning what greetings were thrown her way, she made her way to the little room where the Agents would be keeping up the practice. A sort of amusement flickered in her chest. Perhaps it was unprofessional, but Heather couldn’t help but enjoy seeing batches of fresh spies struggling to get into the Erubescian style. Walking with odd, pigeon-like steps, hamming up their lines, chugging down wine and gagging at the taste. The mission itself was a grave, grave matter, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get some enjoyment in what came before. 

Putting on her best “I am professional” look (which largely consisted of her slumping further into her chair, strands of hair dangling loosely in her face), Heather lifted her tablet, began clicking idly away, and waited for the recruits to arrive.