[INDENT][color=#da5844]“You gonna keep staring at me, or are you finally gonna ask what’s on your mind?”[/color] [color=#808080]The club’s bassline rattled Dylan’s ribs, the air thick with sweat, smoke, and electricity as she sat at the edge of a cracked leather booth, her lips curved into a lazy, dangerous smile. Neon lights sliced through the haze, casting fractured colors over moving bodies, shadows tangled in rhythm. The brunette dragged on her cigarette, letting the question she posed hang and watching the curl of smoke twist between her and the man sitting across the table.[/color] [color=#808080]Zane Marlowe’s sharp eyes held hers as he laughed, low and rough, leaning in so the neon caught the tattoos that snaked up his neck. Every part of him, from his rock-star grin to the way he draped his arm along the back of the booth like a king, screamed invincible. And yet, Dylan always managed to find an achilles heel - she’d made a career of it.[/color] [color=#ffffff][i]“What’s on my mind? That’s bold… sounds like trouble.”[/i][/color] [color=#ffffff]“You wouldn’t understand,”[/color] [color=#808080]He replied as he lifted his glass, ice clinking against cut crystal.[/color] [color=#ffffff]“But I do like a woman who’s not afraid to ask.”[/color] [color=#ffffff][i]“Maybe she’s what we need.”[/i][/color] [color=#808080]She nudged at his thoughts, softening the suspicion and feeding into the hunger, his mind a tangled web of trust and doubt. Another drink, another story traded, and Zane would invite her into the inner circle. She’d spent the last three weeks getting close - nights in dive bars, whispered names, back-alley meetings - all leading up to this moment, this encounter. She finally had a seat at the table, and all she needed was for him to say the word.[/color] [color=#da5844]“Try me.”[/color] [color=#808080]Zane and his crew weren’t just thieves, no, the string of robberies they orchestrated were the tip of the iceberg when it came to their wrongdoings. They were Hyperhumans gone rogue, dangerous, but smart enough to stay just ahead of the law with the help of their abilities. The kind of group that thrived in the cracks of the city, smuggling and dealing as they flitted under the radar. Well, until now. And Dylan was close - so close - to pulling the thread that would unravel the whole thing and bring them in.[/color] [color=#808080]The brunette’s fingers brushed lightly over the rim of her glass, hazel eyes locked onto Zane’s from underneath thick lashes. She let him look. Let him want.[/color] [color=#da5844][i]Play the part[/i][/color][color=#808080], she reminded herself.[/color] [i][color=#da5844]Keep him hooked[/color][/i][color=#da5844].[/color] [color=#ffffff]“You talk like you’re ready for anything. [/color][color=#ffffff]You[/color][color=#ffffff] sure about that?”[/color] [color=#808080]She inhaled on her cigarette with ease, blowing smoke to the side, her delicate eyebrow raising ever so slightly. A challenge.[/color] [color=#da5844]“Only one way to find out, right?”[/color] [color=#808080]His grin curved, slow and wolfish, and she instantly felt the shift in his thoughts - the growing attraction, the pull of curiosity outpacing uncertainty. She was in, and all that was left to do was-[/color] [color=#808080]BZZZ-BZZZ-BZZZ[/color] [color=#808080]The pager on her hip buzzed like an angry wasp, breaking the moment. Zane raised an eyebrow.[/color] [color=#ffffff]“Friends checking in?”[/color] [color=#da5844]“Something like that.”[/color] [color=#808080]Dylan flashed a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.[/color] [color=#da5844]“Give me a sec.”[/color] [color=#808080]She slipped from the booth, leather groaning beneath her, and felt his gaze tracking her as she walked away. The club swallowed her steps and the second she hit the door and pushed into the alley, it was like surfacing from deep water. The city night met her with cool, damp air, heavy with the scent of rain on concrete and exhaust. She leaned against the brick wall, exhaling smoke and tension in one slow breath before tugging her pager from her belt loop and squinting to read the glowing numbers.[/color] [color=#808080]911.[/color] [color=#808080]Spotting a nearby payphone underneath the buzzing streetlights, she hurried over, fed it a quarter, and dialed the number practically burned into her memory.[/color] [color=#da5844]“This better be damn important.”[/color] [color=#ffffff]“Agent Thatcher, you’ve been recalled. New orders just came in for a high priority case and you’ve been asked [/color][color=#ffffff]for[/color][color=#ffffff], personally. Report back to Base Alpha immediately.”[/color] [color=#808080]Dylan’s eyes went wide before her brows instantly knitted.[/color] [color=#da5844]“I’m right on the edge here, he’s about to bring me in. You pull me now and this whole thing falls apart. I [/color][i][color=#da5844]need[/color][/i][color=#da5844] more time.[/color][color=#da5844]”[/color] [color=#808080]Her voice was tight with barely contained frustration.[/color] [color=#ffffff]“It’s not a request, Thatcher, it’s an order.”[/color] [color=#da5844]“You understand I'm throwing away weeks of work here? You don’t get it, I can’t just-”[/color] [color=#808080]Dylan’s jaw clenched hard enough to taste metal as the agent on the other end of the line interjected.[/color] [color=#ffffff]“You can, and you will. This isn’t your call. Walk away, Siren.”[/color] [color=#808080]The line went dead, and the brunette slammed the receiver back on its post in rage. For a second, she just stood there, heart pounding, the taste of the moment gone bitter on her tongue. Rain began to patter softly onto the cracked pavement, cold droplets seeping through her jacket as she stared into the shadows of the alley. All of it had been for nothing, erased in an instant by orders she couldn’t ignore.[/color] [color=#808080]Her fists curled tightly at her sides. Stubbornness warred with duty, the weight of the recall pressing down like a vice. But she drew a slow breath, crushed her cigarette under her boot, and did what she was told, disappearing into the night.[/color][/indent] [color=808080][CENTER][COLOR=#da5844] [sup]________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/COLOR][img]https://i.imgur.com/BUiLDSl.png[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=#da5844][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]Base Alpha[/I] - [I]Dundas Island[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=#da5844][b]Times of Trouble #1.005:[/b][/COLOR] [I][url=https://open.spotify.com/track/105Fwh9wijwT41rrfgSnrE?si=a1164a4866354599]Dangerous[/url][/I][/right][/sup][/indent][COLOR=#da5844][SUP][sub]____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sub][/SUP][/COLOR][INDENT][sub][color=#da5844][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] [I]None[/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=#da5844][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I]None[/I][/right][/SUP][/indent][/color] [indent][color=#808080]The trip back to Base Alpha had been quiet, Dylan having spent the flight battling with the turmoil and unsettled angst she felt while balancing the mental chaos that transpired around her. Every detail of the night replayed in relentless loops - the flash of neon off Zane’s grin, the heat of the moment when she’d almost had him hooked, the cold, clipped voice over the payphone that had shattered it all.[/color] [color=#808080]But it was a new day, and she had a new case awaiting her. Not to mention, a new title. [/color] [color=#808080]Senior Secret Agent. [/color] [color=#808080]Duquesne had called her into his office before she had been sent out on the previous assignment with the good news, accompanied by some kind words about her recent performance and forwarded regards from Church, who was away on a much deserved vacation. This would mark the first time she was back at the base in her new elevated role, and she had a feeling some folks wouldn’t be pleased. Luckily, she’d be the first to know if they had envy on the brain. [/color] [color=#808080]Once at the office, the brunette packed the last of her belongings and trinkets into a cardboard box before bidding her old desk farewell, heading towards her new domain. While still on the main floor, Senior Agents had detached desks with panels that provided some additional privacy and were located alongside the windowed walls of the building. It wasn’t a door with a lock, but nonetheless it was still an upgrade from the standard cubicles in the bullpen.[/color] [color=#808080]Noise filtered into her mind as she passed by her colleagues, their ongoing mental dialogue melding with her own.[/color] [i][color=#ffffff]“...hasn’t she called me back? I thought she was into me since…”[/color][/i] [color=#ffffff][i]“...eggs, potatoes, I need broccoli and he’ll kill me if I forget the green…”[/i][/color] [i][color=#ffffff]“...14 weeks, which I know is early to start telling people, but we’re just so excited about…”[/color][/i] [color=#ffffff][i]“...can’t believe Thatcher got promoted. She hardly deserves it, I bet she just persuaded them to give it to her. Fucking telepaths.”[/i][/color] [color=#808080]Stopping in her tracks and turning on a patent leather heel, Dylan faced the offender whose thought had stuck out from the rest. Richard Morris, Special Agent. He had started a few months before her back in ‘84 and was without a doubt bitter about the situation- he reeked of jealousy.[/color] [color=#da5844]“[/color][color=#da5844]Insecurity’s loud[/color][color=#da5844], Morris. Turn it down a little bit, would you?”[/color][color=#808080] She watched his face go beet red as realization hit, the surrounding agents taking notice of the interaction. The brunette moved towards him, his thoughts and panic growing deafening with each step as she closed the distance that separated them. Calmly, she lowered her voice to a whisper for only him to hear.[/color] [color=#da5844]“Maybe focus less on what I ‘don’t deserve’ and more on earning something yourself.”[/color] [color=#808080]She smirked,[/color] [color=#da5844]“Just a thought - since you’re [/color][color=#da5844][i]so[/i][/color][color=#da5844] good at them.”[/color] [color=#ffffff]“T-that’s an invasion of privacy, Thatcher,”[/color] [color=#808080]Richard sputtered,[/color] [color=#ffffff]“Get out of my head.”[/color] [color=#808080]Dylan tilted her head, a devilish glint in her eye as sweat began to dot his brow.[/color] [color=#da5844]“It’s not like I want to be in there.”[/color] [color=#808080]Her tone was light, laced with amusement.[/color] [color=#da5844]“I’m far too busy with actual work to waste time sifting through whatever’s rattling around in that skull of yours.”[/color] [color=#808080]The tension in the air thickened as Richard’s indignation warred with the embarrassment that came off of him in waves.[/color] [color=#da5844]“Besides, if I really wanted to, I’d definitely need a hazmat suit.”[/color] [color=#808080]A few agents nearby choked back laughter, the strain breaking just enough for the crackle of mental static to shift - half of them enjoying the show, the other half relieved it wasn’t them caught in the crosshairs. She didn’t wait for a response from the agent in front of her, definitively turning her back in order to glance at her onlooking coworkers.[/color] [color=#da5844]“Anyone else have any grievances? No?”[/color] [color=#808080]Wide eyes stared back at her in reply as she tapped her manicured nails against the box in her arms impatiently, [/color][color=#da5844]“In that case, I’ll be at my new desk if anyone needs me.” [/color][color=#808080]The sound of her heels were sharp against the polished floor as she sauntered away, punctuating the stunned silence she left in her wake. The hum of cerebral chatter slowly resumed, but it was no longer the careless stream of consciousness it had been before.[/color] [color=#ffffff][i]“...that was brutal, Morris is going to stew over this for a month…”[/i][/color] [i][color=#ffffff]“...hope she didn’t hear what I was thinking about the Director earlier…”[/color][/i] [color=#ffffff][i]“...oh god, think about work - think about work - think about anything else…”[/i][/color] [i][color=#ffffff]“...makes it look so easy, she definitely enjoys it…”[/color][/i] [color=#808080]While not always the case, there was [/color][i][color=#808080]some[/color][/i][color=#808080] satisfaction to be had in making people squirm - after all, she had consciously amped up Morris’ panic to teach him a lesson. She wasn’t a sadist, not really; she didn’t enjoy wading through the despair and clutter of other people’s thoughts. But sometimes, when the noise got too loud or too cruel, it felt damn good to quiet it - even if only for a moment.[/color] [color=#808080]As she set the box down on her new desk, she saw a fresh case file resting neatly in the center of the table, thick and marked URGENT[/color][color=#808080][i] [/i][/color][color=#808080]and CLASSIFIED in red across the top. A note was clipped on, Duquesne’s handwriting quick and familiar.[/color] [color=#ffffff][b]Didn’t mean to cut your last assignment short, but going to need you on this one. - D[/b][/color] [color=#808080]Dylan let out a quiet breath, fingers brushing over the folder’s edge before setting the note aside and opening the file, shutting out the dull hum of the office behind her to the best of her ability.[/color] [color=#808080]Time to get to work.[/color][/indent]