#〈 𝐑𝐇𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄 / 𝐬𝐩𝐲 〉

[crmincls]

⸻ max irons, 39, cis man, he/him ; ] welcome to the bastion, RHYS THORNE. we’ve had a problem with our system, please help me readjust your files. it says here you are THIRTY NINE and have been around london for YOUR WHOLE LIFE, correct? yes, i’ve read an article about you - they said you can be CONFIDENT and DISTANT, is that true? no matter, i’m sure your position as a SPY FOR THE TABLE will conceal all of that. all done now. i hope to be seeing more of your DOZENS OF PASSPORTS WITH FALSE NAMES ON EACH / A WARDROBE TO FIT EVERY OCCASION / PERFECTLY BLOWN SMOKE RINGS in the future. enjoy your stay, and remember the rules. / / james bond, jack ryan, jason bourne. [ ⸻ honey ;

𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬

full name . rhys henry thorne

nickname(s) . rhys

age . 39

sexuality . heterosexual

place of birth . london, england

occupation . spy for the head of the table

height . 6'0"

tattoos . plenty of scars + tattoos worked over the scars.

piercings . none

pinterest . here

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬

( tw: )

a  lot  of  this  is  tbd  while  plotting  with  daddio

rhys  fell  in  love  with  spy  movies  as  a  kid.  it  seemed  so  fast  passed,  so  intense  and  interesting  that  he  sought  to  find  a  way  into  that  world.  he  won’t  admit  it,  but  he  can  quote  the  old  james  bond  movies.

but  being  a  spy  for  the  crown  just  wasn’t  what  he  thought  it  would  be.  covering  up  shit  for  politicians  and  people  who  needed  to  keep  a  clear  image  wasn’t  what  he  signed  up  for.  that  damn  sure  wasn’t  what  007  did.  his  tipping  point  was  always  a  delicate  one,  which  is  why  one  little  wind  pushed  him  into  the  world  his  father  had  already  embraced.

years  later  he’s  a  spy  for  the  head  of  the  table  herself.  nobody  knows  really,  but  they  damn  sure  do  know  he  does  something  for  the  table.  rhys  weasels  his  way  into  every  sort  of  situation,  he  learns  your  secrets,  and  he  reports  what’s  worth  it  to  the  woman  in  charge.  sometimes  he  gets  his  hands  dirty,  and  the  lack  of  rules  and  regulations  certainly  makes  him  enjoy  this  job  a  far  bit  more.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

on main :

flings, exes, messes : is hoe, make mess.

friends : or as close as they can get. he doesn’t really get close to a lot of people but their relationship works because they don’t really ask any questions either.

sparring partners : he enjoys fighting, and they keep one another in the ring and up to skill.

connections : people who tip him off to things, whether willing on their part or just people he has manipulated into it and don’t even realize what is going on.

enemies : or just in general people who don’t like him, people who don’t get along with him, people who he doesn’t like.

〈 𝐑𝐇𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄 / 𝐬𝐩𝐲 〉,〈 𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐬 / 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 〉

〈 𝐑𝐇𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄 / 𝐬𝐩𝐲 〉,〈 𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐬 / 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚘 〉

〈 𝐑𝐇𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄 / 𝐬𝐩𝐲 〉,〈 𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐬 / 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 〉

〈 𝐑𝐇𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄 / 𝐬𝐩𝐲 〉,〈 𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐬 / 𝚍𝚎𝚟 〉

[crmincls]

@phantxmthreads

“  i’ve  been  asked  if  having  a  father  as  a  tailor  gets  me  any  special  treatment.  ”  rhys  begins,  buttoning  the  new  shirt  he  was  picking  up  to  try  it  out.  his  father  never  got  his  measurements  wrong,  this  was  more  because  he  wanted  to  feel  the  new  material  than  to  ensure  it  was  the  proper  size.  “  i’m  sure  you  can  imagine  what  i  often  reply.  ”  he  could  be  a  cheeky  little  shit,  rhys  usually  smarted  off  to  people  or  told  them  to  figure  it  out  themselves.  

[crmincls]

@hydraschaos

"  the  bastion  should  really  invest  in  a  cafe.  "  rhys  says  as  he  cradles  his  cup  of  tea,  a  cup  he  brewed  in  his  room  and  took  down  to  enjoy  in  the  lobby.  plenty  of  people  passed  along  this  space  and  while  little  shared  was  useful,  rhys  did  so  enjoy  the  people  watching.  “  a  nice  cup  of  tea  goes  a  long  way.  ”  adds  he.

[crmincls]

@talesofmanyx

standing  on  a  balcony  at  the  bastion  felt  like  an  entirely  different  world.  the  city  around  them  had  no  idea  about  the  criminal  underworld  that  lay  beneath  their  noses.  pulling  out  his  cigarettes, he  flips  open  the  top  and  offers  a  silent  cuss.  of  course  he  lost  his  lighter.  just  as  he’s  about  to  slip  the  vice  back  into  his  pocket  the  door  to  the  balcony  sounds,  and  rhys  has  a  bit  of  hope.  “  please  tell  me  you  have  a  light.  ”