Reynard Ferady | She/Her | 21 | Verna Spy

Code Name: Cyclone

M: Laceleaf (Dir)

Reynard thought this was it, this was the end of her. Truly, the way she was going to leave this world would be outside her apartment in a death by bags and fabrics. Her suitcase slipping from her grasp, she had given up hope and nearly accepted defeat but just placed the stuff on the floor momentarily to get into her room when she walked over.

She was short, extremely short, especially as Reynard nearly thought she was hearing things when she could not see over the items she held. When she finally managed to tilt her head to the perfect degree to see the woman, she only got a brief look at her through the objects that brought the woman down. Besides being short, she had dark brown, medium length hair and a comfortable style of clothing that showed a sense of practicality over sheer beauty with soft eyes to complete her look. That was the best word to describe them, her eyes: “soft.” Like, it was almost like she was hesitant to even open her mouth but she was still kind enough to exit her room and come help. They were nice, really.

“Uh.. you need help?”

Reynard gave a beaming smile to the woman before chuckling softly. “Yeah, uh, it was kinda the reason I was calling ‘help’ and everything, you know?” Reynard mused, trying not to make the person feel too embarrassed despite the wide laughter she was suppressing.

The woman then, notably embarrassed, walked over to Reynard to help who was immediately caught off guard by the woman reaching into her pocket and getting the key for her. Sure, she had requested it, but most people would just prefer to grab the stuff from someone else then shove their hands into someone else’s pocket. It felt strange almost to be so baffled by this little gesture, but here Reynard was, absolutely flabbergasted. And now she was thinking of words like fucking “flabbergasted!” What was going on with her? Reynard just muttered a few words of gratitude as the woman removed some of the bags from her hands and helped carry them in, following closely behind the woman before placing the bags on the counter of the kitchen.

“Thanks again!” Reynard sighed once the bags were all either placed on the counter or her bed, nearly collapsing into one of the kitchen stools as she rotated her now somewhat sore arm before rubbing the burning spots where the handles of the plastic bags were. “Man, those were heavier than I was expecting and it was not helping that I decided to take the stairs.” She looked down at her freckled arm as she kept rubbing it, seriously thinking how she must have cut off her blood flow in her own stupidity. “Or grab the keys ahead of time.” A chuckle left her lips as she looked up back at the woman and gave a “but what can you do” or “it is what it is” kind of shrug. “Or think, for that matter. But thanks, for a third time now, I guess. I really appreciate it.”

The conversation then steered to where she was from and all of Harby’s incessant drilling came to mind. Always be vague, steer the conversation away, and, only if you have to, give a rough estimate of the length of the journey but always be off by around fifteen minutes or so. As soft and trustworthy as her eyes seemed, there was always the possibility of her being an assassin or just a bounty hunter or anything in between. It still felt weird lying to her, but it was better than telling the truth.

“Oh, I live about an hour and a half from here in a small town, practically unheard of,” Reynard laughed as she waved her hand dismissively. “Honestly, I am surprised I even got the job I was looking for. I guess my talent was good enough that they were able to overlook me barely having a notable name to stand on, you know?” Reynard then sighed, propping her elbow on the counter and then her chin on her palm. Before the woman could ask another question, Reynard tilted her head so that her cheek rested on her palm and spoke.

“I’m curious, actually. What do you do for a living?” Reynard sat up a bit straighter before motioning to her hands. “Your hands are pretty rough so you must use ‘em a lot for your job, right? What are you, a construction worker? A paper filer? A.. A uh.. ranch.. hand? A ranch hand?” She paused before raising her hands defensively and waving them around quickly. “Wait, sorry, sorry! I’m probably being too nosy, huh!” Reynard laughed softly and rubbed the back of her neck just where her dreads touched skin. “Jeez, if I am ever starting to get too personal or anything like that again, you go ahead and tell me to shut it, alright? I don’t mean to bombard you with questions or anything like that.”

As the woman brought up places to visit in the area, Reynard could not help but cock an eyebrow and smirk. “Why are you so curious about that all of a sudden? Planning to ask me out on a date or something?~” Reynard teased before chuckling and pushing off her stool and lightly patting the woman’s shoulder as she passed her. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, of course!” Reynard walked over to the fridge to inspect and check it out, suddenly sparked by curiosity to see if there was anything like water already inside. Nothing was there, sadly. Reynard sighed and ran a hand through her loose locs before glancing over her shoulder back at the lady with another smirk on her face. “Unless, you’re willing to take me out to this club I heard of in the area. If you take me there, I’m all yours!~” Reynard winked one of her red eyes and chuckled faintly as she walked back over to the side of the counter opposite the woman, making it near impossible to tell if she was flirting or joking.

“And thanks, a fourth time, for everything, but what’s your name? I don’t think I caught it..,” Reynard mumbled before nodding slowly with her reply. “El.” Did not ring any bells, but it was still a nice name. “Well, El,” Reynard was very proud of herself for this rhyme, “my name’s Reynard. Call me whatever you’d like as long as it’s not a really, really bad nickname or something, you know?”

"Zairan law enforcement has identified a concerning rise in crime rates, particularly affecting unmarried women. In response, Zairan Law Enforcement (ZLE) will be closely monitoring single women and recently married ladies for any signs of suspicious activity. Many citizens draw parallels to past incidents orchestrated by the elite, such as the unjust purge of women accused of immorality, where all were ultimately proven innocent. Despite this, caution is advised, although most citizens believe there is nothing inherently wrong with anyone.

In other news, reports have surfaced regarding a wanted criminal roaming Zaira. The individual is described as having short, fluffy blonde hair, striking grey-blue eyes, and a tall, muscular build. The ZLE has not disclosed the reasons behind the man's wanted status. Further details are pending release pending investigation."

The young male snorted at the question proposed to him, "How, I found my drink?" He said, a slight curiosity in his voice as he gave a thoughtful hum, tilting his head as he pondered the question. His long nails tapping the glass rhythmically as he bobbed his head absentmindedly to the music, it was playing some type of pop music he couldn't quite place at the moment . He then thought long and hard about the question, and a gentle smile came upon his face as he found his answer.

"My Mother," he said softly, and fondly of his mom - a woman whom he adored and cherished. "She took me out for drinks, despite her health and my father's preference for me to not drink. And she chose a rather sweet looking cocktail while I went for a hardcore brandy ; and that's when I figured out right then and there that I hated strong liquor." He said, a smile still on his lips as he sipped more of his cocktail, " my mother ordered this cocktail for me and was like ; a lemon and strawberry based drink for my boy - your sweet like the strawberry yet you have a slight freshness to you, and you can be just and sour and tart as a lemon - but blended together it's a harmonious and delicious mix." And he gave a thoughtful look in Arlo and gave a mischievous grin.

"Your whisky sour tells me many things ; you are are possibly a rather smooth talker and confident in what you say and do." He then narrows his eyes and focuses and thinks more about the guy in front of him, "despite your clothing, I would say you're a rather serious individual at times and have strong morals and values - and are rather strong willed." He gives a soft hum as he steals what's little left of the drink and downs it, wrinkling his nose in distaste, " you burn, but it's a warm and protective burn - one that makes you reliable and trustworthy to others, I'd have to wager that you're one who values honesty, after all you don't like things watered down or sweetened, you like the raw and ugly truth much as you like the strength in your drink ." And he uses his finger to rub around the rim of the glass " you're sweet like the caramel and vanilla in the drink, big even the kindest people have their limits, so I'd say like the bitter lime that accompanies this drink you have a more serious and focused side, but their is a sort of bitterness behind it - like it's something you don't want but do to survive." And he gives a simple shrug before finishing his drink.

He then looked at the menu and gave a disappointed huff saying, " Man, these drinks are boring as hell - hey, bartender, is their any place near here where someone can get some more interesting drinks and not the standard run of the mill, hotel bar drinks - even if it's upper crust liquor." He said in a sweet tone, his words being precise and sharp.

"Hmm, well there's this club that's fifteen minutes away by foot you can check out ; I hear it's really popular for the drinks and food, but also for the karaoke and dance floor." The bartender said as she cleared empty glasses with a soft hum in her tone, and she gave Max a smile, "but I could make you something you'd like ." The woman said as she reached for Max's black card as he was already paying out for his drinks.

"Hey Arlo, you feel like clubbing and getting some real drinks and seeing what the scene is like out here? I may get to tell you why I got this busted lip," he said with a slight giggle as he leaned forward and squinted his eyes, examining the male. " You can't come to the club like that if you're coming with me, " he said wrinkling his nose, "oh, and here's my number." He then suddenly grabbed Arlo's arm, but gently so, and then got a pen out of his pocket and wrote his number along his arm, his head leaning down and pen cap in his teeth as he focused on writing it down legibly. "Hope to see you there." He said with a slight lilt in his voice and a what would definitely be described as a flirtatious giggle as he slid off his bar seat and made his way to the outside.

He took in the fresh air, and he walked down the streets, and he could hear the sound of the club as he approached. The mood was electric and he was feeling the vibes they were putting down, and he had a genuine grin on his face as he entered the club. He could hear the cheers of people dancing around and chatter in the background - the room was dimly lit to set the mood, and even in the darkest areas one could see what couples were getting into. It was an interesting place, and it had his approval. And he strode up to the bar, finding that it wasn't empty and he put on his most elegant voice he could - after all he had to play the part and look the part.

"Could I have a Golden Velvet Symphony cocktail. And if you don't know the drink it's a gold rum drink with White Crème de Cacao, Fresh Cream, Kahlua & Grand Marnier & Grated Dark Chocolate," he spoke with confidence and elegance as he leaned against the bar and looked around at the other guests that were also indulging in the bar. He noticed two other guests, a man and woman, and both appropriately dressed for the occasion. They looked like a handsome pair and he gave an amused chuckle to himself. His hair curled around his waist and shifted slightly as he felt the approach of a newcomer - and his mood instantly soured as he caught the curious gaze of the person.

He shifted rather uncomfortably in his seat, and the man leaned near him, and he narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. It took all he had not to punch the man in the face, "Man, I thought you were a lady - but you're just one of 'dem flower boys." The man bemoaned, the stench of alcohol coming from him. And Maximillian frowned at the comment, " you're still pretty cute either way, how's about you come with me."

" I'm sorry, I have to decline - I'm waiting on a friend," he said - with a polite grin on his face as he positioned himself further away from this absolute creep. And the guy gave an angry huff and attempted to grab his arm, but Max grabbed his hand with a foolishly strong vice-grip.

"Sir, I have stated that I am waiting for a friend ," he said his voice polite but a venom seeping through, "I do not want to be in the presence of someone who can't hold their liquor nor respect me - and, if you even think of attempting to manhandle be again, I won't be so forgiving - you will be leaving with a broken bone. " he said with a cheerful tone, yet the threat made so casually as he applied pressure to his grip to emphasize his point. "Now how about you chill out? Hm," he said with a slight mocking tone, before turning back polite and to the bartender, "say, bartender - could you get this man a glass of water, he seems to have drunk a bit too much? And I'll pay for his tab and taxi ride to get him home safely." He said brightly, and he let go of the man who was cowering and rubbing his arm like an animal licking its wound. And he scurried off, no where to be seen again.

"Punk." Maximillian scoffed under his breath as he awaited his drink. His dangling diamond earrings glinting in the light as he sighed rather bored.

“Siberia”

Setting the straw down from her lips for a moment a vicious grin would remain on her face toward his compliment on her alias. “Nonsense. I have never had the opportunity to meet a person with the last name Cross, and surely all of the Ryan’s who I have managed to cross paths with are nowhere near as devilishly handsome as you.”

Perhaps her casually flirtatious banter was proving to be a bit much even for this occasion, she’d silently cringe at herself for it, however should the pair end the night tangled in sheets, which seemed rather unlikely given his calculated and short responses, she wouldn't dare to regret her choices tonight. Katarina was quick to read someone’s intentions and hide that of her own; she could gauge whether her charm was enough to keep her prey occupied or if there was more she would have to do to gain access to them. While Katarina was one to divulge and entertain her guests with all sorts of nonsensical information she had to be incredibly cautious about who was to know of her true identity. She was aware of several other assassin’s arriving this evening to tackle a similar feat and while open to collaborating with the others, this would likely be to her own detriment, as she is most often termed a lone wolf.

Following her compliment towards him her gaze would tastefully rove across him once more, taking in his strong muscular features and hair before glittering towards his face. For a moment she could feel the gaze of another fall on the pair. While generally very poised in her mannerisms at this rate she had decided to screw everything. She would throw the remainder of her glass back and set the now empty glass down on the counter. She would utilize that moment to shift her gaze across the bar to find a youthful figure dressed in a short sleeved dress shirt with long curly ebony hair death gripping onto the forearm of a drunken idiot. Maximillian. She had the slightest recollection of the other assassin in the room having only heard whispers of their ability to pass off as either gender effortlessly. She definitely could see how and was by no means upset by it at all. She refrained from looking any longer and passed her gaze off as if searching for the bartender who managed to forunately step away for a minute to grab a bottle kept on the other side.

Her frame had shifted now, turning her core directly towards the bar allowing one of her thick hips to brush against the blonde for an equally brief moment before she turned her face toward him allowing her backside to be within view.

“Would you care if I order us some lemon drop and tequila sunrise shots?” She would ask before placing a formal request with the bartender. Should the gentleman desire something different perhaps not as sweet but something much stronger she would oblige and, more than anything manage to slip her card to cover all of their drinks from here on forward. He was a man of exquisite taste and thus would likely require an extensive and thorough amount of banter to keep him engaged and interested.

Despite having a multitude of successful missions and having been whipped and chained to earn the highest pay she could within her Guild she was more of a saver than a spender. That is, unless it were required to be spent to satisfy her own pleasures, which would include splurging on her prey to their heart's content. Having only one past lover whom she had spent the world over, only for them to go behind her back and sleep with another despite stating their exclusivity, she ensured to not only have his head but all items back and repaid tenfold.

“Harby” | He/Him | 26 | Zara Spy

Code Name : Inception

M: Arlo (dir.) + Arcane (ind.)

After checking in, Harby stepped into the elevator and hit the plastic button to his floor. He reached for the room key in his pocket, tracing his finger along its edge as he tapped his foot impatiently. He placed a toothpick between his teeth as he observed the no smoking sign before his eyes darted back to the floor counter. As the tight walls of the elevator felt suffocating, Harby began to regret not taking the stairs up even despite knowing how many flights he’d have to walk up and down. It was not so much that the elevator felt too tight for him- it felt small, sure, but he felt like he could still breathe- it was just that standing in one place for too long was starting to annoy him. Luckily enough, the elevator doors opened before Harby could internally complain about his grievances.

Slapping the keycard to the door, Harby huffed as he heaved the heavy bags through the hefty door. Tossing the bags onto the bed, Harby collapsed onto the couch and instantly closed his eyes as a long sigh left him like a deflating balloon. Lazily, Harby’s head turned to look around the surprisingly nice room which Harby had not been expecting. After so many missions out of whorehouses, warehouses, and rundown motels, a fancy hotel was well beyond expectations. A plush couch, glass coffee table, and large tv took up the living room of the hotel because the room that he had was seemingly big enough for it to be divided. Harby grabbed the remote, now wanting to test that large tv in the room. He turned on the news before hesitantly standing up from the soft couch and deciding to go through his things, particularly his camera bag.

“The weather will have an almost sixty percent chance of rain so be sure to pack an umbrella tomorrow!”

His black camera bag held equipment that was worth more than his whole life, to be frank. With lenses that allowed him to zoom from such a far distance and that always kept crystal clarity, it was no wonder Harby was inspecting them religiously anytime after a trip with them. God forbid they ever get damaged. One of the few nice gifts Harby has ever received and like hell would he allow it to be dirty, let alone damaged. Speaking of dirty though, his lenses had somehow accumulated dust, causing him to grumble slightly at the fact.

“In other news, the game last night was a huge loss, but is it really signaling a downfall in our reigning champions?”

Taking out a small rag from the bag, Harby gently ran circles around the lenses to pick up the dust carefully and methodically. As he got trapped in the rhythm of the cleaning, he felt himself relax and not worry about the upcoming mission for once. Usually by now he would be thinking of every possible social interaction or plausible outcome, but the luxury of the hotel was a new comfort. Maybe this would be a good-

“Breaking news!”

Well nothing could ever be nice, could it?

Harby set down the camera and leaned on the back of the couch as he listened to the breaking news, a scowl growing more and more with each passing second. You would think someone insulted his whole bloodline with his expression. Nothing the news brought was good, especially since he was sure the man they were looking for was none other than Arcane, the man Harby was meant to be supporting in this mission. Harby had only seen a few pictures of Arcane before this and heard talk about him from other spies, but there was a high chance of it being Arcane with the oddly specific and random details they gave.

Sighing, Harby grabbed the toothpick from his mouth and flicked it into the trash. Dialing Arlo, Harby placed his phone between his shoulder and ear as he lit a cigarette with his free hands. Arlo was one of the few people Harby was close with and, luckily for him, knew a bit about Arcane. If anyone knew where Arcane was, it might not be Arlo, but he would at least help narrow things down.

“Hey Arlo, you got a sec?”