Oliver Moran, younger brother to the infamous Sebastian Moran. MI6 agent with a bit of an alcohol problem. [Reboot of ollienotolivermoran, established 6/4/2014]
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Her cold tone broke him. He hadn't meant to get this close, he wasn't supposed to. He'd done this dozens of times— god knows how many girls he'd taken to bed to get information from. But Peri— she was different.
He actually loved her. That revelation did nothing to keep back the pain in his voice, the desperation for her to see he was only following orders.
"Peri—"
Ollie hated how broken he sounded. How unsteady. They'd always told him that having attachments would ruin him. They were right.
"I never meant— I never meant to hurt you, Peri, please realize that. I didn't want to lie to you anymore. I couldn't. Peri, please, I love you. I can explain everything, I can make this right. Let me make this right, please."
As he continued, Peri’s heart sank further and further into her stomach. The way he was avoiding eye contact, his voice. He wasn’t lying. Well, at least he wasn’t anymore.
“I—”
Her voice threatened to break. She was at a complete loss for words. There were a vast number of questions running through her head at that moment, each of them fighting to be the first off her tongue. She was honestly trying to decide whether she was more hurt or just angry. After a few minutes’ silence, her voice came out cold.
”So you’re telling me that it was part of your assignment to get close to me, then. That’s understandable, I suppose. I’ve not even told those I’m close to about my employment status, but I’d be more likely to tell a significant other. Tell me: was making me fall in love with you just part of the job too?”
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He'd spent all night trying to figure out how to tell her. This was not how he planned it, how he rehearsed it. It just... It came out wrong. There was too much emotion in his voice.
"I wish I was lying to you, Peri."
He couldn't look at her anymore, choosing instead to focus on a point near his feet. This was ridiculous. He'd had guns to his forehead and he was afraid of catching this girl's eye? What the hell. Then again, he actually felt something for her.
"I work for MI6. One of my superiors was suspicious and put me on you."
Can you blame her for not believing him? It was ridiculous. It was rehearsed, with how quickly it came out of his mouth, and it was completely absurd.
“Shut up. Seriously, what? I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”
She fell quiet for a moment when she repeated what she thought was his lie in her head. Moran…?
”What do you mean intel?”
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"No, we do— we do need to talk. Don't call me that, please. Peri, my name isn't Clyde. My name is Oliver Moran and I was assigned to gather intel on you six months ago."
”You’re saying that we have to talk, Clyde. Can you blame me for being slightly concerned?”
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[boop] NOT DEAD
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Mum, you know as well as I do that Father deserved it. Our name isn't t h a t good anyways. Not anymore, thanks to my darling brother.
You can’tsimply throw things at people who displease you. Regarldess of how vile and immature. We do have a name to uphold, b a b y, I’ve worked hard for it. Don’t simply understand, change your actions.
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"I dare you."
{ +1 }
"Don’t tempt fate, Oliver. I have no problem going further."
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There was a faint smirk on his face as she got off him. "Jeez, if that was all it took, I should've tried it earlier." He scooted into his desk. "It's fun to piss you all off."
{ +1 }
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"I try not to have incredibly high standards. Makes it hard to be disappointed." His eyes narrowed a little, a small grin playing on his lips. "Is that supposed to be a subtle hint that I've too much to drink?"
“‘Specially when your standards have raised so high that you don’t think you could bring them down again,” she smiled, catching the bartender’s attention so she could ask for a glass of water before turning her attention back to Clyde. “Some of us more often than others, I think.”
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"Well, we all need our jobs." He smiled at her kindly, shrugging as he glanced down at his drink. "And, at some point, we all need a drink."
She sighed, shaking her head. “No, I’m not going to. As much as I hate my job, I need it quite a bit. Plus my boss would murder me.” To her knowledge, he had no idea how literally she meant that.
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"Hey, how about no? Someone in this office has got to be responsible."
{ +1 }
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What have I to explain now, Mum? I haven't done anything wrong today. —— Now if we're talking about how I threw a bottle at Father the last time I saw him, then I understand.
bonumxfilii
Someone has some explaining to do, ————- and yes, Oliver, I mean you.
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"Come on, I've got work to do. Please?" He pursed his lips faintly, brows furrowed.
{ +1 }
"Uhm…nope." Charlie chuckled, thumbing at Ollie’s cheek.
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When your muse wants/misses another muse, but you don’t want to annoy the other mun…
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"Oh, please. It's perfectly acceptable to go in trashed." No, no, that sounded too much like him, not Clyde. "I mean- it's a little irresponsible, but it might help."
"It very well could." Peri took the refill that the bartender offered her, downing it quickly and scrunching her eyes shut momentarily before continuing. "Okay, I need to stop. This is my first day back in almost two months, I hardly need to go in trashed."
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"Please move? If I ask nicely, will you?"
{ +1 }
"You said that you forgot what you were saying, so you’re better off being quiet." Charlie said with a chuckle. "I’m not moving, Oliver."
#((Ollie: i came here to have a good time and i'm honestly feeling so attacked right now))#v; everybody talks#agentchameleon#((LOOK I'M NOT DEAD))
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"Eh, not really, but it pays well enough that I can afford a few things here and there." Ollie shrugged at her. "Could always be worse."
"Well, at least there, there’s room to move up, right?" She was much better at finding the silver lining in other people’s situations than her own. "You could always end up in a shitty well-paying office job. I may be this guy’s bitch, but at the end of the day, it’s well worth it.”
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Ollie stood in shock, blinking at the words that spilled from the other man's mouth. "As soon as the case is closed, then, I'll leave her alone. I'll never see her again. I'll never make any attempt to contact her, I'll never allow her to see me. If by some miracle, I see her on the streets, I'll walk the other way."
He shook his head faintly. "But there's no way for me to not hurt her. If I tell her the truth, she'll hurt. If I leave, no warning, no explanation- it will hurt. So I don't know what you want from me. But I'll leave. It'll be over. I will never speak to her again, if it means keeping her safe from anyone who would target her to get to me. If I have to hurt her that way to keep her from ending up in a hospital bed or a body bag, I will. Is that goddamn good enough for you?"
+bonumxfilii
"If you can’t she’ll hear it from me, and though I do not want to give you any favors, if she hears it from me she won’t forgive you. At least if she hears it from you it won’t be as much of a betrayal. Which is why I urge you to let me tell her."
Hamish was back at his desk and in a blinded rage. He hadn’t allowed himself to feel anything after his wife died, and this was the first real emotion after utter pain that he allowed himself to feel.
The power switched from the boy to the man, and Hamish was not alowing power to be out of his hands again. He stood slowly and shook his head, “I do not think you understand the lengths that I will go to protect my family,” he began slowly, “I found the man who kidnapped my daughter, and he no longer breathes, a man looked at my wife wrong, he no longer has full motion of his hand, a man tortured my sister and he was tortured in every way he hurt her, and then some. I do not hide from a fight, especially regarding my family, and she’s it for me. If you hurt her, regardless of any intent you may have. I shielded her in a car accident that would have killed her, and then watched my parents taken away in body bags, I watched my wife die the same death thirty years later. You think you’ve seen pain? Hardship? If you love her, truly love her?”
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