Realistic or Modern The Modern Knights (Spy Thriller | Main Thread)

[ReverseTex]

CHAPTER ONE: BURNED

To all Knights, regardless of location or mission, I as Arthur summon you back to Headquarters effective immediately. New information regarding a possible worldwide antagonist calls for a halt in all other operations and or covert missions. In other words, get to New York immediately.

-Arthur
23:30 EST

FrostFire PeanutLemur koala Mooriot fin Shadow wendy Bugsy Bang Bang @



The man known as Arthur sat within the confinements of Knights library, a room of prestige decor and regal for the underground HQ. The walls were lined with rich mahogany bookshelves, stuffed with knowledge and trophies from the many years of the agencies existence. But, it also was the room that his predecessor had passed in, the stained wood floors a ghostly reminder of the incident...

note: see spoiler for building layout and exterior

Spoiler: spoiler

1)Elevator to shop floor
2&3)Entrance room
4)Library/ Sitting room
5)Rec Room
6+13) Restrooms/ Showers
7) Main hall
8) Table Room
12) Arthur's Office
9) Armory/ Lab
11) Garage
10) Underground exit
"Room Descriptions"
1) Accesable only from inside the restaurant.
2&3) Mostly pictures of former members and leaders
4) Mostly used for mission research or lounging
5)TV, snacks, beverages both achohal and not, another lounge area.
7) Similar decor to the entrance room.
8) Meeting spot for The Knights, mission and debriefing usually take place here.
12) You. Do. Not. Want. To. Go. There.
9) The Knights few scientists work there, repairing and building tools for the agents.
11) Prototype vehicle kept there.
10) Leads behind the restaurant building and into the alley. Only used for cars/ and or vehicles.​

coding by cychotic
[/SIZE]

 

[Bugsy]

Prague, Eastern Europe,
Ten hours ago

It was late, and the rain was lashing down upon his leather jacket, the collar popped in a half-hearted attempt to cover something from the rain. And, in true British fashion, he hadn't stopped grumbling about the weather ever since he had felt the first drop fall on his head. His little meeting hadn't gone as planned, and now, he had a bullet graze on his forearm - another scar to add to the collection. Ryker had bought himself a couple hours as he hobbled back to the flat he had spent the last couple of days at; living off pot noodles. He was pretty sure that he had lost them when he had taken a swan dive into the Prague Canal. He fumbled around his belt for his lockpick as he had to ditch his pay-as-you-go cell once he had been made, checking his surroundings once more before stepping in.

Once he was in, Ryker dropped the leather jacket, dumping it at the door - revealing his simple black t-shirt underneath. Still soaked from his little swim. He padded over to the small fridge that resided in the corner, pulling out a half-cold bottle of water as well as turning 90 degrees and reached under the counter with a little grunt as he pulled out a small makeshift medkit. It was then that there was a small beep at his computer, making him stop.

His brow furrowed as he walked over to the computer and sat down.

That wasn't good.

Ryker sighed, twisting the cap off with his teeth as he took a couple of long gulps. It was within the next half hour that he had changed clothes into another simple black long sleeve t-shirt and an identical pair of dark blue jeans, got his wound patched up enough so it wouldn't bleed on the floor of the plane and had his go-bag ready. The only evidence of him being in the flat was the large hole that he had to kick in to reach his go-bag. Everything else was destroyed.

New York, New York City
Present

The trip had gone smoothly, no strange Czech men following him with tinted glasses - no one else trying to kill him or anyone questioning the reason why he looked a bit of a shambles facial features wise. It had been a long job, what could he say to that and he didn't have the chance to shave on the way in to the US.

He had taken one glance at the queue and partially thought to join it. But, being that it seemed like an urgent matter, Ryker had decided to walk it. The place they had been called to was a restaurant. Ryker took a precautionary stance across the road, taking a moment to scan through the daily paper as he watched passerbys and whether or not there was any strange movement before heading across the road, his bag slung over his right shoulder as he pushed open the door.

Ryker didn't waste any time going back over the faces passed, as he made his way down to Arthur's office and rapped his scarred knuckles against the door.

 

[Bang Bang]

Dallas 'Morgana' Ligeti

Dallas, a qualified quartermaster, special ops agent, and goddamn knight, was playing personal assistant that morning. He didn't get to play with any nice shiny toys that morning, oh no. Today he was on sorting out the file dockets for the congregating agents and arranging the 'table room' (why couldn't they just call it a meeting room like everyone else? Did this whole King Arthur and the Knights of the Round table gig really have to be that pedantic? Don't get Dallas wrong, he loved a good gimmick, but this was surely too much) like a good nursemaid. Now, finally, as they were due to be arriving proper, he got to do the only part he actually cared about: brewing the coffee. Most of the agents were total heathens and liked their brew 'weak' by Dallas's standards, so he made up two pots, one regular, one 'proper' and slipped on a jug of milk and some sugar for those utter monsters who'd dare taint the purity of their caffeine with such atrocities.

On his way back to the table room, he spotted one of the newly arrived Knights; "Ryker! Oh, sorry, Gawain. Good to see you, mate," Dallas shifted the tea tray onto one arm so that he might offer to shake the other's hand, grimacing as he did so. "Arthur's got me playing his personal maid again, so don't mind me." Tipping his head in the direction of the office, Dallas added, "He ain't in there though; Library. Wants us all to settle in the table room so he can do his serious lecture thing, get the mood going, so to speak. I'll show you over, since I'm playing hostess anyway."

Making good on his promise, Dallas headed off for the 'table room'. "How was Prague? Not great, I'm guessing; you look like shit." Dallas tripped off what would usually be an insult with great cheer; around here, it wasn't exactly uncommon for people to look like they'd been to hell and back, and he himself happened to be lucky enough to be permanently in that state. Doing some further gymnastics with the tea tray to open the table room door, Dallas held it open with his foot for the giant of a man following behind him, and then went to lay out the mugs for everyone. Pressing the intercom through to the library, he voiced through to the King, "Ryk- Gawain's here. You coming through straight off, or waiting for us all so you can make a dramatic entrance? Don't answer that, I already know what you'd say anyway." Clicking the mic off, Dallas shot a grin Ryker's way. "Good to have you back in one piece."

Tags: ReverseTex Bugsy
OOC: We're assuming you want us in the Table Room, King Daddy-O

 

[FrostFire]

Lyra Mackenzie/ Agent Percival

Spoiler: Image

Lyra was sitting in the lab, laptop in front of her and brows furrowed as she concentrated on the screen, pages and pages of scribbled and printed notes surrounding her on the white table. The way she worked was an organised chaos, that only she understood. She was working on her PhD, something she did in any spare time she could get, and for the past few days she had practically been living in the lab, only leaving to sleep, exercise and occasionally to eat, although she usually had breakfast and lunch there whilst working.
She had had plenty of time to work on it, she hadn't been on any serious missions in a while... Obviously Arthur had something to do with that, but it had given her some time to get other work done so she didn't mind too much - he was her boss after all. Lyra had made good progress on her paper with all of that free time, when she wasn't working with or for Arthur she was slaving away at her laptop.

She had, of course, received the message just like the other Knights - not that she had needed to, of course - but that day she had gone into HQ especially early so she could get some work done before the inevitable chaos started.
To fuel her very, very early start, she had made herself a flask of matcha to wake up, and had already eaten a bowl of porridge and berries.
Happy with the progress she had made, Lyra shuffled her notes together, putting them neatly into the file they had been covering, she slid it into the backpack resting against her seat, closing her laptop she slid it into the same bag and hopped off the seat, stretching.
Taking a sip of her matcha tea, she stretched again, contemplating the meeting to come.
Lyra was wearing comfortable clothing, as she almost always was; sturdy, black trousers with deep, zipped pockets; a loose grey, top with billowy, long sleeves; and as per usual, her black army boots that she was almost never without.

She knew the meeting would be happening soon, so she quickly checked over her frogs, before grabbing her flask of matcha and slinging her bag over her shoulder, strolling out of the lab and making her way down the hall and into the table room. Opening the door, she noticed there were already two people there, "Morgana, Gawain!", she lilted in her upper class British accent, smiling wide as she greeted them both, genuinely happy to see them.
"How are you both? How was Prague, Gawain...? I hope nothing too unpleasant happened...", her mouth turned down slightly for a moment as she looked over Gawain's condition, but only a moment and her resting face, a soft smile, returned and she sat down at her seat, a metal plaque marking her location at the table.
There was no sign of Sean, but Lyra knew he was around somewhere, and that he would turn up eventually for the meeting.
Bugsy Bang Bang

 

[koala]

Simona "Mona" Tuccini
Outfit: 1, natural makeup, nude lipstick, hair combed back

Date: TBD

Time: Approximately 9:30 AM EST

Location: HQ

Mentions: Arthur

Interacting: Gawain Bugsy , Morgana Bang Bang , Percival FrostFire

The last few months had gone by achingly slow. Missions were impossible for the woman due to an injury she'd gotten a while back. Whilst escaping a scene, one of the cronies had managed to stab her stomach and leave a very obvious scar. That injury led from one to the next, and she ended up breaking her leg in the process. Arthur wasn't too pleased with the outcome of her mission and ordered her on bed rest until he said otherwise. That was nearly four months ago. Since then, she'd rarely stepped into HQ unless she was really bored and actually missed her migraine of a friend, Dallas Ligeti. She did come in to help guide some new recruits with her gymnastics knowledge, but that was about two to three weeks ago. Imagine her surprise when she finally received an important message from the big guy himself the other night.

Walking down the busy streets of New York City, no one would suspect Simona had been a victim to a terrible injury. Her feet walked with precision as her hips swayed from side to side ever so slightly. The woman's long legs seemed endless with how she'd dressed herself. Always have preferred more formal attire, Simona couldn't help but add her own flare to things. She wore a blue romper with a gaping v-neck, not enough to completely reveal her chest but just enough to remain professional. The silk fabric was perfect for the day's sunny yet breezy whether. It was loose and flowing to allow circulation, yet had coverage in case it got a bit chilly.

With one hand in her pocket, she finally walked around the corner into China Town. The little restaurant was as run down in appearance as always--the perfect cover in all honesty. Simona took the secret elevator down until she was finally inside the headquarters. Her three inch heels tapped against the marbled floor as she strode down the halls, towards the table room. She was pleasantly surprised to see a familiar face--someone she hadn't seen in quite a while.

"Gawain," Simona said with a small smile, her voice smooth like velvet with the slightest Italian accent, "It's been a while. How have you been?" The woman walked up and offered the man a light kiss on either cheek before moving to stroke his ruffled beard. She may have been a bit cold and distant in the personality regard, but she was very open with the physical aspect of things. Touching her fellow agent's beard without any hesitation was a prime example of that. "I see it was... rough"

From the corner of her eye, she saw someone else she was far more familiar with. Her calm, sympathetic smile seemed to make a 180 as it became more of a smirk than anything. "Morgana." Simona simple stated, raising her eyebrow in mock humor. "Is that for me, my cucciolo? You shouldn't have." Appearing to literally glide over, the brunette grabbed a cup of strong, black coffee and lightly tickled the spot below the man's chin, pinching him almost. She and Dallas may have multiple differences, but at least they shared their taste in coffee. For her, however, it was merely a dislike in sweet flavors. Taking a sip of the hot liquid, she sat the mug down and turned to the only other female in the room.

"It's good to see you, Percival." Simona said with a small nod, finally sitting down in one of the many seats. "Have you been on any missions lately?" She'd resume to nod at the woman's answer with full understanding. They both hadn't been on any serious missions as of late, but their reasons for not having done so were different, of course. Still, it must've felt as painstaking to not have gone on one like it had been for Simona.

 

[Bang Bang]

Dallas 'Morgana' Ligeti

Glancing up at Percival's entrance, Dallas's grin cracked wider. "Perce! So you managed to bring yourself to abandon your amphibious friends; it's a minor miracle." He helped himself to a mug of pitch black coffee and a seat before his most/least favorite person entered the room. "Oh, and her majesty arrives. What an honor." His voice was dry and mocking, but he watched her with a degree of caution, trying to judge how she was healing; that last one had been bad, bad enough for him to really worry. Not that looking would tell him much; Simona seemed the type to mask any pain or injury, regardless of its severity.

He snorted at her deft handling of the human giant, before giving her an equally 'oh you' sort of smirk. "Lanval," he clipped back. His show of aminosity dropped the second she grabbed her coffee though. "Cucciolo, you're the only one who's not a monster in this place." Taking his own matching drink, he sipped it whilst glancing to Perce, aware of the answer but curious to see how she'd phrase it.

Tags: koala FrostFire
OOC: Off to bed, goodnight folks

 

[PeanutLemur]

​

B O R S + H E C T O R​

Location: New York City, New York | Time: Undisclosed
Interactions: None​

Compared to the chaos of Marrakesh's streets, the thrum of life in New York City was a welcome companion. To Adair, who had spent nearly a year without the splendors of first world commodities, any reminder of the disorganized order of the so-called modern world was a welcome one; indeed, spending so long in a culture so different from the one she had come to know had been eye-opening in ways she wished to omit. There was no denying that she was at home in the urban jungle - a trait her companion failed to share. Indeed, to Osei the sheer magnitude of steel and glass and technology was daunting. He was used to stone buildings with bright terracotta roofs - to unpaved streets and hovels and shops erected from the corners of peoples' homes. In Marrakesh people carried through life with humor-filled lungs and smile-painted lips; in New York people shrouded themselves in cloaks of urgency and disinterest. It was enough to make him feel alienated and almost alone.

"You live here willingly?" The distaste in Osei's voice was evident, as was the discomfort in his posture. Hands shoved into the pockets of his coat and shoulders hunched with the action, he watched the world around him with ever-shifting eyes. There was a stiffness to his mouth and a crease between his brows Adair had the urge to prod.

"Yes," she responded, "and happily at that." Although he scoffed, Osei didn't comment further. "We'll be out of the crowds soon enough." Adair paused to motion to the nostalgic visage of brick across the street, a small smile curving her lips. "Behold, the destination of our taxing journey." There was a beat of silence before Osei fixed her with a sharp stare. "O, ye of little faith." Adair sighed. "The base is under the restaurant."

Despite retaining his tight-lipped visage, Osei didn't hesitate to follow the blonde haired woman across the street. Indeed, he even managed to curb the worst of his curiosity when they made their way inside the elevator at the back of the building. "Keep glaring like that and one of the other agents will see it as a challenge. They don't know who you are yet; don't make me have to do more damage control than needed."

"You're the one who brought me here."

"And you're the one who accepted my deal." Adair's smile was a barring of teeth. "Now, shall we?"

Osei grunted, slumping his shoulders before remembering where he was - and who he was with - and straightening his back. Adair's stare was approving as she led him from the elevator and into the base of the organization that had become her second home: The Knights.

s w e e t​

code by pasta​

 

[FrostFire]

Lyra Mackenzie/ Agent Percival

Spoiler: Image

Lyra couldn't help but laugh at Dallas' comment. "Barely.", she joked cheerfully, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. She averted her attention from the two men as Simona walked in, her musical chuckle halting as she spoke. "Good morning, Simona.", she smiled in greeting, staying quiet as the other agents interacted.
When she was asked a direct question, she turned her head around to answer, soft smile still gracing her features. "Likewise! And no, not really.", she paused for a split second, gathering her thoughts as she took a sip of matcha from the flask in her hand. "I haven't been given much to do apart from odd jobs for Arthur... I do miss being out in the field...", she admitted sheepishly, her usual sunny happiness dampening as her smile faltered. But milliseconds later, rolled her eyes, brightening up again and becoming the usual force of positivity. "But I don't mind, in all this free time I've managed good progress on my paper! So I can't complain.", her eyes crinkled as she beamed, the window into some of her more negative thoughts gone almost as quickly as it had appeared - she hid them flawlessly, not that she was overly bothered by her lack of missions.
Of course, she knew that her close relationship with Sean was likely one of the main reasons for her being kept away from danger, and considering along with her own work for the Knights, she did occasionally perform Arthur's tasks for him - between this, looking after him (something she had taken upon herself to do, with Bors often away) and her PhD, she barely had free time - so she found it only natural that proper missions had been given to her fellow agents, rather than to her. Of course she missed working on missions, but she couldn't find it in herself to ask to be sent on one, she would wait for Arthur to allocate one to her.
And in the mean time, she was perfectly complacent continuing as she had been, she concluded in her thoughts, there was no reason at all for her to want anything more.
Bugsy Bang Bang koala

 

[koala]

Simona "Mona" Tuccini
Outfit: 1, natural makeup, nude lipstick, hair combed back

Date: Undisclosed

Time: Approximately 9:30 AM EST

Location: HQ

Mentions: Arthur

Interacting: Morgana Bang Bang , Percival FrostFire

Laying back into her seat, the woman crossed her long, toned legs as her fingers were wrapped around the mug she'd claimed. She took a a few sips and let the hot liquid glide down her throat. It burned like alcohol, but provided her with a much needed kick to get the day going. Her morning was mostly spent at the gym and with her physical therapist, so to say she was only exhausted was an understatement.

"Ah. Cucciol-a." Simon corrected as she sat the mug down. Tanned hands quickly moved to cross under her chin as her elbows met the cold, barren table. "Unless you think of me as a man, Morgana?" She was teasing him as always. The two were always playing jokes towards one another, and her feigned flirtatiousness was an illustration of that. They were too good friends to be anything more or anything less and he was probably there for her since she'd joined the Knights from day one. With being the quartermaster, he oversaw a lot of the recruit training, including her own.

Attention on Lyra, the woman offered a sympathetic smile. "Yes, I completely understand. These last few months have been Hell for me." Simona let out a small sigh as she took another sip of coffee, suddenly wishing it was a glass of wine instead. Some light and ready sounded absolutely amazing, but she knew drinking right before a meeting would be a mistake. "So has he told you anything about the meeting?" Simona had asked Lyra, taking note of her and Sean's close relationship. The woman had only been working for the Knights about a year, yet she somehow made it into that grump 'old' man's heart."

 

[Mooriot]

[class=scrollparent] width: 100%; height: 100%; overflow: hidden; [/class] [class=scrollchild] width: 100%; height: 100%; overflow-y: scroll; padding-right: 17px; max-height: 500px; [/class] [class=charname] font-size: 250%; text-align: left; letter-spacing: 1px; [/class] [class=cim] margin: 0 auto; width: 47%; [/class] [div class=cim]

[/div]


[div class=charname]EMILE RICHELIEU // GAHERIS[/div]
Location(s): Bilbao, Spain → New York City, New York (Knights HQ)
Time: ~9:30 AM EST
Tag(s): PeanutLemur

[div class=scrollparent][div class=scrollchild]It was supposed to be a night of intrigue and suspense, a mission that the Frenchman would’ve been proud to boast about to his coworkers upon his return. Thwarting an underground smuggling operation at a high profile auction and saving millions of dollars from fraudulent practices - rumor had it that there would also be the possibility of some shadier transactions taking place at the event to boot. Suffice to say, the simple allure of the mission was more than enough for Emile to jump on board. What could possibly go wrong?

Well apparently, a lot could, though admittedly not in the sense that most would default to. It turned out the alleged smugglers were but amateurs and frankly no match for the security that accompanied the plethora of millionaires in the room, and even the rumors didn’t amount to any additional dealings in the night. In other words, the party was over before it even began. Despite the letdown of an operation, not all was entirely lost. At the end of the day, Emile left the gala after having mingled and bonded with a number of fellow patrons. But more importantly, he left as the proud new owner of an exquisitely... peculiar piece of abstract artwork nobody else dared to bid on.

Arthur’s distress call didn’t faze the man as much as it probably should have, who had for better or worse grown accustomed to the grim nature of their line of work. As pressing of a matter the boss made it out to be, it wasn’t something that Emile would lose sleep over, especially not during the last-minute flight he booked in a mad dash to arrive in New York on time. Even when awake he refused to overthink the brief message, instead concerned with what room in his apartment the new chef-d’œuvre would look best in. The living room was already aptly furnished and hanging it up in the bedroom would only serve to keep him up at night in intense musings. Putting a nonsensical painting on the bathroom wall was a cheeky idea that he thought would elicit a chuckle, and he even considered donating it to the Knights for a good moment: their lounges back at HQ were awfully drab when all was said and done.

*****​

The trip treated the then-weary agent rather well, having slept through most of the supposedly turbulent flight without trouble. Even as he entered the final leg of the journey, Emile was all perked up from the almost depleted styrofoam cup in his grasp - a pick-me-up courtesy of his favorite donut chain, of course. (The sugared pastry itself had long been consumed.) For this particular day he donned a simple leather jacket, never remorseful in dressing for comfort, as well as a pair of shades to conceal whatever signs of fatigue that lingered in his eyes and betrayed his chipper act. Regardless, he carried a genuine tune all the way from the airport to the facade of the run down restaurant building in the distance, a testament to just how familiar and unperturbed he was with this hectic lifestyle of nonstop labor.

With upbeat footsteps, Emile carried himself across the streets separating him from the building before traversing through the modest diner and descending into the base. As he strolled through the corridors following the elevator ride, he shook the styrofoam in an attempt to judge how much of the drink remained unconsumed before raising it to his lips for another satisfying gulp. With his free hand, he rummaged his pocket for his phone and raised it up when finally located, pulling up a picture of the marvel of a painting his wallet had sacrificed itself for. It wasn’t entirely unlike something a shrink would present to a patient for psychoanalysis, though perhaps that would make it an appropriate fit for some of the more… troubled members of the agency.

As he inched his way closer to the meeting, Emile’s phone-carrying arm continued to protrude out from his body, his eyes now squinting as he tried to find a suitable location to hang the bloody thing. Although he spent considerably less time than most of his peers around these parts, he still felt an odd obligation to furnish the place. Perhaps he really was just that generous. Maybe if the place actually looked more homely, then it would start to feel more like one. Nevertheless, his poor attempt at interior decorating was stopped short as he cocked his head at the pair that stood in his way.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that a long lost agent I see?”

Between his own undertakings and Adair’s lengthy disappearance, Emile had nearly forgotten what the other agent looked like. He then raised an eyebrow, equal parts wary yet intrigued by the outsider who accompanied Bors. “I didn’t realize it was bring your friend to work day.” In any case, the senior agent appeared at ease with the stranger by her side, and that was enough to reassure Emile in the moment. Still, his eyes ran across the other man, studying his features in the brief silence that followed. The man’s relative rigidness was quite telling of his questionable presence and the Frenchman doubted he was here to spruce up the place either, much to his disappointment.[/div][/div]

 

[Bugsy]

"Ryker! Oh, sorry, Gawain. Good to see you, mate,"

Codenames, perhaps it was the one thing that he really couldn't get used to. It was one of those oddities that he never had to experience in the Royal Marines, they would give out assigned names for targets, places and operations but hell if they ever called them individually by separate code names. He reached out with his own hand and shook Morgana's. "Good to see a familiar face again, mate." But, either way, he had put in the effort to at least remember the code names that they were given in the first place. Though, he knew that something was up - Arthur wasn't in his office and certainly the whole round table was going to be some party, so he followed after Dallas, chuckling some. "I'll be disappointed if there's no mood-lighting."

"How was Prague? Not great, I'm guessing; you look like shit."

"Mate, that's ace observation skills." Ryker grinned. Of course, he was used to the banter, perhaps something he had picked up over the years of being one with the lads when he was a commando and something that he missed from day-to-day. He nodded once Morgana had said that he was happy to have him back in one piece. "Relatively. I think I left a small chunk in Prague."

It was not long until they found themselves joined by another agent; Percival. it was good to hear another Brit across the pond, despite the accent differences. Ryker had never really bothered losing his, though occasionally he tried his best to sound posher than he was but today, he couldn't give a rats ass after the ordeal in Prague.

"How are you both? How was Prague, Gawain...? I hope nothing too unpleasant happened..."

He watched as Percival looked him once over, leaving her to be the judge in fear of becoming a broken record, deftly changing the path of the conversation. "Good to see you too, Perce. Hope King Arthur hasn't been working you too ragged." What he really could bloody well have was a good cuppa and a better med kit, though he doubted it was suitable to be patching up a wound at the round table.

Ryker had almost forgotten about the chair as he was as comfortable standing as he was sitting - if not more. As he went to take his own seat, another voice joined them; a familiar Italian accent greeting his tired and scalloped ears. Ryker had forgotten about the physicality of Mona; but this was a clear reminder. His chin inclined ever so slightly upwards after she had ruffled his beard, becoming marginally self-concious about his borderline disheveled appearance.

But what could anyone expect after being called off an active mission abruptly?

Eventually, he had decided for the better to settle into one of the seats, dropping the bag in between his legs and chair, leaning back and watching as the other conversations unfolded, happy enough to listen in.

 

[RedEmRa]

Emer O'Keefe/Agent Olwen

Location - Seamore's

11:55 PM​

Emer had received the message but was yet to respond, she was tired from a day's worth of procrastination and paperwork.
It had been an idle-day for Emer and it appeared to be shaping into an empty night too, as she hadn't been assigned to any mission and there was no press conference she was due to attend, it wasn't a rare sight but an uncommon one. Normally, she was suctioned in HQ, mostly typing upcoming speeches, however, today she was in Seamore's, with her feet kicked back and her mouth tucked into a lobster roll, ever since working with the Knights she was missing Ireland, it was her home and place of sanctity, so she did all she could to remind herself of the tastes and experiences of the country, it wasn't working too well but she had enough distractions to not feel home-sick.

The time soon reached 12 PM, Seamore's was closing and so were Emer's eyelids, it was time she went to bed. "Taxi!"

8:45 AM​

Emer was awoken from her rest by her alarm clock, it wasn't loud but it was annoying enough to drive somebody awake. Her body was aching and her eyesight was hazy, it seemed as though Emer crashed straight to bed as her clothes from the night before were still on, more importantly, was that Emer appeared a mess and needed a long, cold shower.

She did her usual morning ritual, stretch-out her body, blow-dry and de-rustle her hair, brush teeth. Simple tasks. Emer checked the time and noticed how she needed to get a move on, it was 9:20, decking herself out in a denim dress, white undershirt and a pair of shoes, she rushed out of her apartment and grabbed a breakfast bagel on her way out as she shifted to HQ.

9:45​

Although she didn't need to, Emer still checked her back before entering the restaurant, in her eyes, it looked cool. The dining room was still modest but it was the Agency's fancy elevator that always excited her, likewise was the entrance room, the formality and structure of the room was an awe-inspiring sight, despite its lack of homely-ness. Wolfing down a final bite of the bagel she waltzed into the Table-room, "What's the craic?" Addressed Emer to the roomful of Agents.

 

[ReverseTex]

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Location- New York City, New York (Knights HQ)
Time: 9:45EST
Tags: Most people, but i'll tag a couple from each room to make it easier. FrostFire Bugsy PeanutLemur RedEmRa

Sean sighed to himself behind the cover of his crossword, knowing the agents were most likely chatting among themselves. He missed that aspect of an agent... Being able to relate to not wanting to sit in a meeting, poking fun at one another, and even just the bantering bullshit. All of it he missed... Now he was just another authoritarian figure for this batch of agents, a position he always loathed in his field days, who had little clue to what his true job actually entailed. Dealing with diplomats, organizing funds, protecting his operatives, and even avoid the watchful eyes of others. It was an extensive load he hadn't been ready for a year ago, but now he accepted his fate. Just get the bloody meeting over with as quickly as possible. Don't dwell on the past either Sean...

Making his way to the Table Room, where chatter was audible from his location, he leaned his back against the corner wall. He didn't want to be seen for a few moments, studying his agents when they didn't realize his presence often amused him. "I do hope you lot weren't speaking ill of me..?" A playful simper arose from his face, something his old boss never did enough. "Regardless, let's get this going. Wrap it up while I fetch the others."

[/div][/div][/div][div class=credit]credits RI.a [/div][div class=overlay]Codename: Arthur[/div][div class=tags]Location?
@mentions here[/div]

 

[FrostFire]

Lyra Mackenzie/ Agent Percival

Spoiler: Image

Lyra could only roll her eyes again and chuckle at Gawain's comment, it was far from the truth, and she answered his query alongside Simona's on her idleness concerning missions and the Knights.
She inclined her head towards Simona in an understanding half nod, but said nothing. They both felt the same way about being kept out of the loop, but Lyra imagined it had been much harder on her fellow agent; after all, Lyra herself was still technically working with and for Sean, and she was told quite a lot, more than she perhaps liked to let on to the others.
"Ah...", she began hesitantly. She actually did know what the meeting was about, not all the details but... Most. "Well... Yes... But I can't-", just as she was about to try and talk herself out of spilling any details without coming across as rude or a teachers pet, Lyra was saved by the table room door opening.
"Emer!", she exclaimed, delighted, gracing her fellow agent with an especially bright, beaming smile. The two women shared a good friendship - owed entirely to the others persistence. Lyra was, of course, amicable with all the Knights agents - but Emer was one of the few whom she had grown particularly close to.
Before she could begin to barrage the other woman with compliments and questions, her mentor and closest friend decided to poke his head around the door.
"Arthur.", she greeted, a hint of playful teasing colouring her tone. From the expression on his face, she knew he had been listening in; for how long she wasn't sure.
"Who would ever do such a thing?", she feigned ignorance innocently, but the smirk on her face gave away that she was teasing. Becoming more serious, she uttered a "Yes, of course.", as her mentor disappeared, she was already seated so she didn't have to move, but her playful attitude was carefully controlled as she switched to business/work mode, although the hint of a smile still lingered on her features.
ReverseTex RedEmRa Bugsy Bang Bang koala

 

[RedEmRa]

Emer O'Keeffe/Olwen​

"Lyra!" Responded Emer to her close colleague, Lyra was a close friend to Emer from when she joined the Knights, due to their similar interests in Psychology and boarding school experience; granted granted in order for the two of them to spend any time together Emer had to plan weeks in advance and remind Lyra daily, about their plans but the two were very amiable in each other's company. Viewing the other agents seated around the table she gave them a quick wave

Grabbing a seat nearby Lyra, Emer began to feel excited, although it was just a meeting, Emer was rarely in the Table Room around so many agents at the same time, she attempted to appear as serious as she could. Emer usually received most instructions with a small group or by an email if she was due to talk publicly, since everyone was due to be in the room, Emer couldn't help but wonder what was due to be said.

Before Emer was given the chance to gossip with her friend, Arthur entered the room, his presence was quite commanding yet playful, it gave the room a much different atmosphere. "Regardless, let's get this going. Wrap it up while I fetch the others." Instructed Arthur, as Emer nodded in response.
Once Arthur left the room, the atmosphere was given a suspense-ful tone, however, still set on the small talk Emer turned to Lyra and said, "I see the PHD is doin' a number on ye."

 

[Shadow]

Atlas Kinney
‘Lucan’

The email couldn’t have come at a better time, seeing as Atlas was ‘in the neighborhood.’ Sort of. Well, no. Actually, he was in a plane on his way to an island, about as far away from home sweet home as it got.
As soon as he read the email in its entirety, Atlas clambered out of his seat and made his way up the middle aisle of the small charter plane towards the cockpit. “I need you to go back to the mainland. It’s an emergency.” He told the pilot, hoping by some miracle the pilot would just do it. The co-pilot laughed and the pilot didn’t even bother to look at him. “Sure, let me just put my life and the lives of the dozen other passengers on hold for you, buddy. No.” Despite the familiar Aussie accent, the tone was decidedly less than friendly. This called for a little...persuasion. Atlas reached into his back pocket for the hundred dollar bill that....he had already used to pay off the busboy. He cursed softly and went back to his seat. He spent the next fifteen minutes anxiously tapping his foot on the floor while a small child began to scream somewhere behind him. He could already see himself running into the meeting room, late as always, while everyone glared at him. Well, it had happened before, so why not now?

By the time the plane landed on the strip of dirt that was somehow considered a runway, Atlas was practically buzzing with a mix of nervous energy and annoyance. Once he grabbed his duffel bag, he took off running for the coast and ended up having to commandeer borrow a speed boat. Normally, he would have simply paid someone to drive him back to the mainland, but he was broke from bribing the busboy. He reached the mainland again a painful hour and a half after getting the email, which didn’t leave him any time to see to the return of his borrowed boat. Well, someone would probably find it eventually.
Fortunately, the nearest international airport wasn’t far and he had a connection there who managed to smuggle him onto a flight. Unfortunately, when Frederico said ‘smuggle,’ he actually meant smuggle: So Atlas spent eight hours in the belly of a massive plane with the luggage and a couple cats that screamed the entire way. Honestly, the meowing was so constant that they must have decided to take shifts so it was never quiet, but they could all still take breaks. By the time the plane landed, Atlas was drenched in sweat and he had a pounding headache, but he could probably still make it to the meeting without being late if he hurried. Even better, his baby was waiting in the airport car park, so transportation was guaranteed.
Shouldering his bag again, Atlas crept out of the luggage hold and pulled his cap low over his face as he crossed the wide open spaces that were constantly cris-crossed by luggage hauling vehicles. A couple people waved at him in that ‘Hello, fellow employee’ sort of way, so at least he didn’t seem in danger of being dragged away by security before he could get to the garage.
His car started up with that familiar buzzing sound that reminded him how much work he had left to do on the engine, but it did start, so he was on his way. There wasn’t much traffic at early-o’clock, so it seemed he might get there with a few minutes to spare if he skipped a shower. Although, with the way his t-shirt was clinging to him, it was probably better this once to be late and clean than otherwise.
The closer he got to the city, the denser traffic got until he was at a standstill. After ten minutes straight with no movement, he finally settled for parking his car and walking the rest of the way. Naturally, there was a sudden downpour when he was about halfway to headquarters.
Miserable, head pounding, soaking wet, he trudged through the hallways with his head lowered as cold water dripped onto the floor, leaving evidence of his passage. He reached the table room, took a half-step inside and froze. “Hi Arthur.” He said quietly, noting that he was, in fact, late. “Can I go change clothes?” He asked, quieter still. Yes, he was a grown man who didn’t need to ask permission to change out of his sopping wet clothes, but his headache was making it hard to think, so it was easier to just ask. “Oh, and hi everyone.” He said, still not raising his voice much. He imagined any noise would amplify his headache by ten. He managed a faint smile at some of the old faces he hadn’t seen in a while, but as much as he wanted to give some of them a hug, he stayed put by the doorway.

ReverseTex Everyone else in the room too, I suppose

 

[PeanutLemur]

​

B O R S + H E C T O R​

Location: New York City, New York | Time: 09:32
Interactions: Mooriot ​

Adair could feel Osei stiffening at her back, could imagine the coiling of his muscles beneath the dark tone of his flesh and the storms brewing behind the near-black of his eyes. The Moroccan was too easily provoked; if he didn't keep it in check, his aggression would lead him to trouble he couldn't escape. It almost had, once. But he was her responsibility now. For the duration of their deal - and, perhaps, beyond that - his back was hers to watch. And that meant damage control and prevention - even if Gaheris' skepticism was well-founded and more than warranted. A non-agent in The Knights' hideout was a rare spectacle. Had he not been at her side, Osei would have likely been met with more hostility. Still, there could be no enmity between comrades. Not here.

"Gaheris," Adair said with the faint trace of a smile as she turned to face the Frenchman. "It's been a while." And it had. Two months after the incident with Gambit resolved itself, Adair dropped off the radar. Solo missions of the ilk she'd placed herself on required anonymity - from her identity, and from those who'd have had her back should events have gone wrong. But that was a matter of the past; she was back now. The man at her side and the intel within her mind had helped ensure that much. "This is Osei Annan." The woman motioned to Osei, whose tight-lipped expression hadn't eased since their arrival. "He's an asset I picked up on my last mission. You'll be seeing him around quite a bit. Osei -" the man fixed her under his gaze "- this is Agent Gaheris."

Osei's shoulder's slumped for a moment as he placed his hands back in his pockets. A disgruntled expression lurked in the planes of his face, but he pushed past his discomfort. "...Pleasure." If Adair was comfortable in the other man's presence he'd do his best to keep his inclinations under control. Besides, Osei wasn't disillusioned: Gaheris wouldn't have made it into The Knights if he wasn't capable. Foolish would be the least of what he was if he decided to challenge the other man. He'd have to play nice for now.

This time Adair's smile was more pronounced. "Shall we head for the meeting room?"

s w e e t​

code by pasta​

 

[Mooriot]

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[div class=charname]EMILE RICHELIEU // GAHERIS[/div]
Location(s): New York City, New York (Knights HQ)
Time: ~9:40 AM EST
Tag(s): PeanutLemur , Shadow

[div class=scrollparent][div class=scrollchild]One of the most taxing things the job had to offer involved the multifaceted natures of all his fellow coworkers. Of course, that much was to be expected in their line of work, though it caused Emile more headaches than he could ever bear to count - it was nearly impossible to have a simple, straightforward conversation around these parts it seemed. That’s why when Osei met his eyes with a stern gaze, the Frenchman could do little to make any attempt in connecting with the anomaly that was the Moroccan outsider. He’d be seeing him around a bit, was that it? “Doesn’t look like your friend fancies me very much,” he responded, unsure of how else he could approach this situation. It’d taken him this long to understand how the rest of the Knights functioned, and he wasn’t exactly convinced that getting to know the stranger would have much of a payout either. “But that’s fine,” he whispered, keeping his voice low while giving the Moroccan a wink. “I’m not sure if I like being around here much either.”

Meeting Adair’s smile, Emile’s demeanor brightened itself back up. “Of course, let’s get going.” He picked up the pace, leading the pair to the designated meeting room, not wanting to be relegated to trailing behind the two. How terrible would it be to arrive behind the woman who just up and disappeared for a year? Beyond terrible, without a doubt. And thus with an extra bounce in his step, he proceeded to make his way to the table room, only pausing once the party arrived.

Emile shuffled through the entrance, noting that an array of colorful characters already gathered within a meeting space - how else could he possibly refer to this group? He walked through the room without batting an eye or ear to the room’s other inhabitants and their conversations, though his senses may have slipped on occasion… was that a puddle on the floor? Regardless, he squeezed past the soaking slob he could only imagine to be that clumsy chump of an agent before turning to confirm that Bors and her acquaintance were still behind. As he inched closer to his seat, he cleared his throat. “We’ve got a stranger danger situation, folks,” Emile remarked as he motioned for them to enter.

With his job done, Emile slumped into his own seat and set down his styrofoam cup on the table, only now noticing that a few of the other agents were enjoying drinks of their own. How awkward. [/div][/div]

 

[Bugsy]

Of course, no entrance could beat the sopping wet agent that stood in the door way. Ryker's eyes lingered for a moment, greeting the other agent with a silent nod of affirmation.

There was a ghost of a smirk that crossed his own features as he recalled the grown man asking whether or not he could change his clothes - to which the answer should be yes, but that was yet to be seen - or heard. Perhaps it was the jet-lag that was kicking his arse as he remained largely quiet, the quips largely on hold as Arthur had walked in, and rather quickly walked back out to round up the others.

He took a look at his own handiwork with his injury, grunting and trying to cover up the fact that indeed the blood was seeping through the bandage by tugging the sleeve of his shirt further over it with very little avail. Most of his own personal conversations were wrapping up nicely, enough so that a more professional tone could overrule his being - switching back to the days of being a Royal Marine at one of the many debriefings that he had over the years.

“We’ve got a stranger danger situation, folks,”

Ryker's eyes drifted over to the newcomers, eyeing up the lad with a wary eye but none the less would meet the other's gaze with a friendly, and welcoming smile. "Not for long there ain't. Good to meet you, mate."