#tiule

[livewireatalanta]

The Commander...wasn't what she expected. Not that Nadia really expected much. Just hoped for someone better than her last commander which was a bar so low it was fucking subterranean. Nadia slumped further in her seat, letting her eyes go deceptively blank as he spoke.

Before she could even be suitably relieved that he had more field experience than her, he claimed Omega-1 as his last post. Motherfucker. She should have known, really, considering this whole thing was apparently some Ethics Committee kettle. And he was joking about it. As if it wasn't something to fucking worry about. As if the Ethics Committee was some true and final good. As if they weren't all in the mud together.

At least Nadia wouldn't have any trouble limiting the amount of unnecessary information disclosed. She scoffed, quietly, at the mention of the Committee's enemies. Like they had the first idea about enemies. Try being embedded with some Christian Ministries of America sickos. Those were some fucking enemies.

Nadia tries not to make any sudden movement when he asks for volunteers to introduce themself next. No need to draw any attenion to herself. No need for this commander to take any special notice of her at all.

✦ 𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝟎𝟎𝟏 | 𝒄𝒉. 𝟎𝟎𝟏: (𝒅𝒊𝒔)𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

Gael awoke with a start, blinking rapidly in the dark and trying to figure out where he was. There was a short moment of stillness before he shifted cautiously to a crouching position—his limbs pulled close like a coil as he pressed his back to the wall behind him. His right hand slowly inched below the pillow where his head had rested moments before—clawing around for the cool metal of a pistol, a knife—but found nothing but the smoothness of 1000-thread cotton sheets.

Squinting, he turned his head to scan his surroundings before letting out an exasperated sigh. Flinging himself back onto the bed so he was lying horizontally across the mattress, he lifted his hands to his face before pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, maintaining gentle pressure for a couple seconds before pulling them away to press his index fingers to either side of his nasal bridge. He then pushed down again and followed the curve of his sinuses outward towards his cheekbones and then back again with small circular motions. He released another deep groan as some of the tension in his face dissipated. Dropping his hands, he squinted beadily at the ceiling as shapes danced in his vision. He laid for another few minutes before finally moving to a sitting position, scooting across the bed until his legs hung over the side.

Time to get up.

Toeing on the pair of slippers haphazardly slewed beside the bed. Gael smothered a yawn behind a hand and stood up with some effort; his bones and nerves still stiff from exhaustion and waning adrenaline. Raising his arms above his head, he rotated his shoulders and shuffled in the general direction of where he thought the bathroom had been. As Gael ventured further into the dark, his eyes adjusted a second before he ran face-first into the bathroom door. Cursing, he reached for the handle, not even bothering to flick on the lights. The sun was also groggily getting up alongside him, lethargically casting a weak beam of light that illuminated his assigned bedroom enough for him to make out the shapes of his toiletries.

In the dim light, he blinked at the dark pane of the mirror as his fingers turned the faucet handle. The rushing sound of water filled his ears as he placed both hands on the sink rim and leaned close to the glass pane. He couldn’t make out the features of his face properly; everything above his nose was still obscured by the fading darkness. He stared blankly at the figure in the mirror for another beat, feeling disconnected from the person staring back. The muscles in his face twitched, then stretched themselves into a wide—almost cartoonish—grin that was imitated by the man in the mirror—was that really him?

Scowling, he diverted his gaze away from his reflection as he cupped his hands under the ice-cold water. The following splash to his face shocked him enough to finally disperse the last remnants of sleep that clung to him like cobwebs. Another series of curse words escaped his lips as he groped blindly for the hot water tab to change the temperature to a much more manageable lukewarm before continuing his morning routine. Lifting his head up from the stream of water, he matched gazes with himself in the mirror. The pair of eyes staring back at him in the now hazily illuminated room were wide-eyed and bloodshot. Grimacing, he yanked a towel from its rack and exited the room. Trudging toward the bedroom, he stopped in front of the duffle bag thrown haphazardly at the foot of the bed and pulled out a fresh change of clothes.

As he began to change, a buzzing sound pulled his attention to the pager he had dumped at the bedside table the night before. Lifting up the device, he read the text on the small green screen.

 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝟝, 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕠𝕠𝕟.

The beeper buzzed in his hands once more.

  𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕂𝕒𝕥𝕠, 𝕓𝕥𝕨!

Snorting, Gael made his way towards the front door of the apartment. Grabbing the trenchcoat and messenger bag he had thrown over a chair, he briefly looked through their various pockets. Once he was satisfied everything he needed was accounted for, he exited his apartment and headed towards the lobby.

After a short elevator ride down, he stepped out into the frigid morning air and quickly shambled towards the waiting Jeep parked at the doors of the building. Settling himself into the warm seat of the car, he smiled at the man behind the wheel. “Mornin’,” Gael muttered, ducking his head slightly in acknowledgment as Kato beamed back and started to drive.

The ride itself was a blur, and Gael couldn’t say he fully remembered the conversation he had with Kato in its entirety—only loose fragments here and there, the threads too scattered for him to get the full picture. He wasn’t sure whether the minuscule amount of sleep he had gotten the night before or flight was to blame, but he felt guilty nonetheless. Junichi seemed like a lovely guy—if the photos in Gael’s hands of the man smiling while surrounded by grandkids were anything to go by. Drowsily, Gael shuffled through the handful of photographs of chubby-cheeked kids as the Captain continued chattering away, telling a story Gael didn’t remember the beginning of.

“Ah, here’s your stop, Commander,” The other man said in the middle of describing the lakeside where he taught his grandkids to swim. 

Blinking up at Kato for a second in confusion, Gael gingerly placed the stack of pictures on the center console and reached out his right hand toward the captain for a handshake. "Thank you for the ride, Junichi. And you can call me G—Smooth Operator,” He finished slowly, the smile on his face falling slightly but Kato seemed unfazed by the sudden correction and shook his hand with another cheery grin.

Giving the other man a final nod, Gael stepped out of the car and into Site φ; the receptionist was waiting for him once he stepped through the sliding glass doors. After a brief slew of paperwork and the standard security screening, he was led toward the elevator and instructed to go to the second floor. 

The sun had fully risen at this point, the yellow-white beams of its lights refracting off the ridiculous amount of glass whichever schmuck had designed the place had had a love affair with. He tried to avoid looking at himself as he walked towards the conference room, but it was a losing battle since so much of the second floor was made of glass. There was nothing else to look at but himself reflected back ad nauseam; the image mirrored back at such a frequency likeness was becoming warped. The copies so far removed from the original that they had become borderline grotesque.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Gael entered the room and immediately beelined for the blinds graciously hanging over each one of the windows. He felt more and more relief with each as he methodically lowered each blind until the room was only lit by the fluorescent lights above. Sighing with a sense of finality, Gael dropped himself heavily onto the chair directly opposite the door.

Leaning back in the chair, he pressed his forearm to his eyes and wondered if he could get a nap in before the first person showed up; but as he was weighing the pros and cons when the door handle rattled, announcing the arrival of his first new teammate. Moving his arm away from his face, he watched the door from beneath his lashes.

Agent Choi from MTF Iota-10 stepped in and Gael felt his body relax; a moment respite before the storm. Buckley was spoiling him—or maybe it was Kato?

Rising up to his feet, Gael moved across the room to properly greet his favorite Fed. Beaming, he clasped Choi’s hand between both of his own, squeezing gently as he looked up at 'Old Sport.' 

“It’s good to see you," He said, genuinely pleased to have Choi at his side. At the very least, he had one person he could trust his back to. "I’m glad the Committee took my recommendation into account.”

There isn't much time to catch up after that as the rest of MTF Chi-00 slowly trickled in shortly after. And, as the last stragglers made their way in, Gael surveyed the group, fingers drumming on the smooth table in front of him. As a hush slowly enveloped the room, Gael lifted himself up to his feet.

“Well,” he began. “Guess I’ll go first.”

Giving the group a half-hearted wave, he continued, “Hello, everyone. I’m Smooth Operator, and I will be your commander starting from today.” His eyes flicked from one face to the next, taking mental notes of which operatives matched his gaze and who did not.

"Now, while some of you may have heard rumors about me or seen my face before," He winked at Choi. "But I can assure you whatever you've heard is not true—unless it's nice, in which case it is one hundred percent true," He laughed, feeling momentarily uncharacteristically awkward. Tough crowd.

“Anyway, I've worked for the Foundation for something like twenty-four years? Give or take. Spent twelve of those years in Omega-1; that's 'Law's Left Hand' for new guy," He inclined his head at 'Quote Unquote' before continuing in an exaggerated stage whisper. "We're the Ethics Committee's personal Mobile Task Force, but don't worry about it."

Turning back to the rest of the group with a single raised eyebrow, he smiled. "And while I'm sure you've all gone over the briefing on the way here," He muttered wryly. "I'd like to remind everyone that we are under strict orders to refer to each other by codenames during the course of this assignment. However, as a handful of people in this task force already know each other, and since this will be a year-long mission, I am aware that keeping complete secrecy is near impossible. That being said, I would recommend that everyone try to limit the amount of unnecessary information that they choose to disclose going forward. The Committee has a lot of enemies, so you all need to prioritize your safety. That's all.”

Dropping back into his seat, he motioned loosely at the group, "Who wants to go next?"

There was a pause.

“Don’t all jump up at once.”

[mincedoaths]

last update: 11/17/23

oscar isaac. 44. cis male. he/him. ┊┊ cerberus corp has been watching GAEL ESAI TIUL-XOL.  some of the public has dubbed them DEAD RINGER because of ALTERNATE SELF-RESONANCE gifted by A CAR CRASH. having been an extra ordinary since 1995, they’re doing a good job at hiding THAT HE IS UNABLE TO SUMMON SPECIFIC ALTERNATE SELVES ON COMMAND. when they aren’t working their day job as a PROFESSOR OF ETHICS AT NYU, they are fond of JOURNALING and are never seen without A SCRAP PIECE OF PAPER WITH A NAME WRITTEN ON IT. at first glance they seem WITTY & PLAYFUL, though their close friends know them to also be NOSY & REBELLIOUS.  they consider themself a VIGILANTE ┊┊

001.  GENERAL

name: gael esai tiul-sol | nicknames: n/a | age:  44 | date of birth:  2/2/1979 | zodiac  aquarius sun, aries moon, cancer rising | place of birth: huehuetenango, guatemala | current residence: alphabet city | gender:  cis man | pronouns:  he/him | sexuality:  demisexual | occupation:  ethics professor at nyu | faceclaim: oscar isaac | height:  5'7" | tattoos: n/a | piercings:  n/a

distinguishing features:  wavy grey hair, beard, glasses, various scars parts on his body positive traits:  persuasive, independent, diplomatic, observant, empathetic negative traits:  pushy, impulsive, judgemental, mischievous, deflective labels / tropes: eccentric mentor, cool teacher, the idealist, the mccoy, to be lawful or good, beware the honest ones, sliding scale of idealism versus cynicism, talking to themself likes:  cats, train rides, the rain, old books, jazz, blues, dad rock, hole-in-the-wall restaurants, trying new recipes, photography, reading dislikes:  the concept of fate, being told what to do, silence, apathy fears:  losing himself hobbies:  he is constantly picking up and dropping new hobbies; most recent were learning guitar and photography habits:  taking off his glasses and cleaning them, putting a hand to his chin when he's deep in thought, scratching his cheeks lightly when he's embarrassed, pinching the bridge of his nose when he's feeling annoyed or overwhelmed

002.  EXTRA ORDINARY

near death experience… 

[ tw car crash, references to drunk driving, death, parental death, bodily harm, blood ]

The memory is not one Gael cares to think about very often. The scars of that night are etched into the flesh of his face and arms, the depths of his heart, the very core of his entire being.

It started off as any regular night, a family of seven squeezed into an old beat up pick up, happy despite the limited space. His father was at the wheel laughing and promising that they almost hand enough for the down payment for the van he had been promising for the last five years. Gael, fifteen and forced to sit in his older sister's lap, rolled his eyes in mock annoyance only to get kicked by his younger sister laying over their older brothers' laps. He had laughed then, grabbed the ten year old's foot and attempted to pry her shoes off as she continued to kick once she realized he intended to tickle her. His mother had turned around in the front passenger seat to tell them to cut it out while the backseat erupted into chaos as his older siblings jumped into the fray. He remembers his father deep rumbly laughter, his mother breaking into titters and swatting at his father, telling him to stop encouraging them. He remembers how happy he felt, his own wheezing chortles as his two of his older sibling poked at his ribs and under his arms.

He knows it wasn't fault. Countless people have told as much. His siblings, his friends, the various therapists he's met throughout his life, the other Gaels in his reflection. So, yes, on a logical level he knows there was nothing he could have done differently to change the outcome of that night. That doesn't change anything for him, though. Doesn't remove the guilt. The worry that maybe if he hadn't distracted his parents, one of them would have noticed the other driver speeding towards them before it was too late.

The drunk driver hit the front of their truck at full speed killing his mother instantly and causing the truck to flip multiple times ejecting him and his little sister out of the car. He had felt helpless as he laid in the gravel and glass, his ears ringing and covered in his own blood. Lifting himself up with his arms into a sitting position he began to shake uncontrollably as the adrenaline drained from his body. His younger sister was wailing somewhere in the dark and he didn't know what to do or how to help.

Looking around he matched gazes with himself in the shattered glass around him and wished he knew what to do, that he could be a different person who could save everyone.

There was a set of eyes looking back at him in one of reflections that stood out; hard, steely eyes that were a complete contrast with the wide-eyed fear in Gael's. A voice that sounded like his own asked if they could help and Gael didn't know what else to do but say 'yes.'

[ /end of tw ]

power… 

Alternate self-resonance allows Dead Ringer to communicate with and transfer control of his body to other versions of himself from other dimensions as long as there is a reflective surface within eyesight. This gives him access to abilities and knowledge that the 'prime' version does not have. He can speak with alternate selves at any time, so long as there is a reflection and all other perimeters are met. And while there is a hypothetically unlimited number of alternate selves he can contact and speak to, only a handful of them have ever actually been given full control of the prime version's body.

The alternate version Prime is trying to communicate with must be sleeping or otherwise unconscious in their dimension in order for him to talk to them/transfer control. Because contact is made while the others are dreaming, the majority of the alternates do not realize that being contacted by Prime is anything other than a vivid dream when they wake up. However, while dreaming/unconscious the alternates do remember/retain memories of previous encounters with Prime.

The alternates have been given code names as they are all 'Gael.' The following is a list of the Dead Ringers that are most likely to be encountered in the field:

Prime: Main timeline Gael. Proficiency: PUBLIC SPEAKING, PERSUASION, DIPLOMACY, LEADERSHIP

Sergeant: A soldier of some sort. First alternate self that has ever taken control of Prime's body and because he has the most well rounded skills, he is the one who gets tagged in the most often. He doesn't like to talk about himself much but it seems that he's had military training from a young age. He used to be a fun guy but recently he's gotten really gloomy and it's becoming harder and harder for Prime to contact him so the other alternates have had to step in more often. Proficiency: HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT, FIREARMS, GUERRILLA WARFARE, WILDERNESS SURVIVAL, BOMB MAKING AND DISARMING, INFILTRATION, WIRETAPPING, RECONNAISSANCE, COUNTERINTELLIGENCE, SURVEILLANCE, PERSUASION, DIPLOMACY, LEADERSHIP, PHYSICAL ENDURANCE, BASIC FIRST AID

Anon: A hacker. Because he lucid dreams, he understands how Prime's powers work even when awake and is the one who is around the most. He works as the command center for Prime during missions to give call outs and figure out who else is around and could help during a specific situation. Proficiency: HACKING, COUNTERINTELLIGENCE, SURVEILLANCE

Scout: An urban explorer. He and Nomad tend to be the ones who get them to and from places depending on the landscape they are in. Thinks that they're a superhero in Prime's world is cool. Proficiency: PARKOUR, FREE RUNNING, ROOFTOPPING, ESCAPE ARTIST

Nomad: A mountaineer. In charge of getting them up to places that would be too dangerous for Acrobat or Scout to climb unassisted. Team mom. Proficiency: FREE CLIMBING, AID CLIMBING, KNOT TYING, PHYSICAL ENDURANCE

Bruiser: A mixed martial artist. Ironically, he is one of the most bubbly alternate selves. Proficiency: HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT, GRAPPLING, SUBMISSION HOLDS, TAKEDOWNS, PHYSICAL ENDURANCE,

Técnico: A high-flying pro wrestler. Only speaks Spanish. Hates that Dead Ringer's colors are all black. Proficiency: HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT, PHYSICAL ENDURANCE, GRAPPLING, SUBMISSION HOLDS, TAKEDOWNS, CUTTING PROMOS (INTIMIDATION, ENCOURAGEMENT), TAKING/SOFTENING BUMPS

Bolt: A triathlete. He doesn't really approve of the whole vigilante thing but cares about Prime's well being so he'll jump in to bail if need be. Proficiency: PHYSICAL ENDURANCE, SPRINTING, CYCLING, SWIMMING

Envoy: A stunt driver. Adrenaline junkie, he loves getting tagged in. That being said, he won't take unnecessary risks that would injure other people or Prime. Proficiency: MOTOR VEHICLES

Trapper: A huntsman. Rarely speaks when controlling Prime's body but more chatty in the reflections. Proficiency: WILDERNESS SURVIVAL, TRAP MAKING/DISARMING, KNOT TYING, FIREARMS

Acrobat: A gymnast. Kinda stuck up but a showoff so he helps out occasionally. Proficiency: ACROBATICS, ROPE/WIRE WALKING, PHYSICAL ENDURANCE

Doc: A emergency room doctor. Complains a lot. Team Dad. Proficiency: MEDICINE

Dove: A street magician. Just happy to be here tbh. Proficiency: SLIDE OF HAND, ESCAPE ARTIST, PUBLIC SPEAKING

drawbacks / vulnerabilities… 

Prime cannot summon his alternate selves on command and cannot compel an alternate self to take control of his body or even speak to him, they must also be willing and can 'leave the call' if they want to. Though Prime is not 100% certain how exactly initial contact is made between him and the alternates, the others have described it as an innate feeling of being needed and choosing to 'answer' the call. And because the majority of the alternates don't realize the are Dead Ringer while awake, there is no incentive for them to sleep in order to help Prime.

In order to transfer control with an alternate Prime, has to maintain contact with his alternate self in a reflective surface for three seconds. The reflective surface that is acting as a conduit for the alternate self in question must remain undisturbed/undamaged or the link will break. So while something like water could work as a means for a transfer, because the surface of water is easily susceptible to ripples that would distort the connection to that version of himself. If the reflective surface is something like a mirror, if the mirror is broken the alternate will be forced out and Prime will be back in control. And while the shards of this mirror could hypothetically be used as a conduit afterwards, it would require a new link to be created between Prime and an alternate.

The abilities that are transferred to Prime are limited to things Prime can realistically achieve with his own body. So in other words, he cannot gain the power of flight from an alternate who is also an EO in their dimension, but he could transfer control of his body to an alternate version of himself who is pilot and then fly a plane.

Communication between the alternates is not telepathic. Whoever has control of the body must speak out loud to talk to the alternates in the 'call' and whoever is in control is the only one who can hear the alternates if they speak back. Hypothetically speaking, an EO with telepathy may be able to hear the alternates since they are technically all talking to Prime from inside his head.

(if applicable)  cerberus corp… 

Dead Ringer has been approached in the field by Cerberus Corp but has rejected any recruitment attempts. He strongly opposes the current model/tactics Cerb Corp employs and hates that the level system is more about finding idols/brand ambassadors than people who can do the job well.

codename… 

The name 'Dead Ringer' was given to him by civilians after it was understood that the group of vigilantes they were seeing were actually just one person in different costumes.

003.  EXTRA

[ tw car crash, death, parental death ]

Both his father and mother died in the car crash that caused his NDE. After Sarge was given control of the body he was able to pull everyone else from the car and administer first aid.

Once emergency crews showed up, Sarge relinquished control of Prime's body. And it was assumed that adrenaline allowed Gael to save everyone despite his own injuries.

Gael's eldest brother (24) took custody of the minor siblings and he along with Gael's older sister (20) dropped out of college to be able to work to raise the others.

[ /end of tw ]

Immediately after the accident, Prime avoided interacting with Sarge as much as possible though he would see Sarge frequently. Sarge mainly just observed.

After a therapist encouraged him to try speaking to Sarge they both realized that something was up.

He wears a disguise while in the field which was made by another EO with the power to imbue the fabric with the ability to change to suit when an alternate swaps in. it's not particularity hi-tech looking so the base aesthetics are similar between the different alternate Dead Ringers.

Prior to the realization that Dead Ringer was one person it was thought that they were a coalition of vigilantes who dressed similarly to confuse Cerb Corp.

He has a tabby cat named 'gordita.' (chubby little girl)

[foundationhq]

EMPLOYEE ID 3218-1004-3; 𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅.

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 Gael Esai Tiul-Xol 𝐀𝐠𝐞 44 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫/𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 cis  man,  he/him 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 Oscar Isaac 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 closed

PROFILE.

Dependable and unwavering, [𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅]’s recruitment to the Foundation could be considered a “happy accident.” Originally rescued from anomalous location [DATA EXPUNGED] during the initial exploration into SCP-████’s domain, he was initially stated to be terminated at the end of the mission — however, [𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅] proved vital in containing the entity responsible for the phenomenon. In order to avoid potentially losing a valuable asset to the Foundation, the Ethics Committee decreed that he would be spared. In the years after this event, [𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅] has proven himself to be invaluable and his appointment as the commander of MTF Chi-00 shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone. While he surely will be missed in “Law’s Left Hand,” it seemed only right that Themis should be given MTF Omega-1’s best blade. The Ethics Committee is certain that The Broken Scales of Themis will flourish under the steady guidance of this operative. Indeed, there are very few who represent the mission of the Ethics Committee as well as [𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅], and even fewer who could say they have sacrificed as much as he has for the success of the Foundation. Though some of the research staff at Site-φ may feel uncomfortable seeing [𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅]’s face after the Xerox Revision, we are certain his excellent interpersonal skills will ease any concerns that may arise. — Internal Memo from the Ethics Committee.

LAST ASSIGNMENT.

MTF  OMEGA-1;  Located  and  terminated  Director  [REDACTED],  Head  Researcher  [REDACTED],  and  General  [REDACTED]  after  a  data  breach  on  [DATE  REDACTED]  was  traced  back  to  them.  [𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻  𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅]  was  also  able  to  confirm  a  connection  between  this  breach  and  Group  of  Interest,  Anderson  Robotics.

INTERRELATIONS OF NOTE.

𝑂𝐿𝐷 𝑆𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇. If the Ethics Committee had given you the option to select your teammates, 𝑂𝐿𝐷 𝑆𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇 would have been at the top of the list. You wouldn’t say you two are anything close to friends — you’re barely acquaintances — but you know enough to admire his track record and diligence. Still, you’re surprised the Foundation willingly sent you their best dog and you’re ill-prepared for the awkwardness of holding his leash. The weirdness will hopefully go away once you’ve gotten to know him better. Hopefully.

𝑉𝐸𝐿𝑉𝐸𝑇 𝐺𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸. You’ve seen their type before and you’re not impressed. More importantly you refuse to be a stepping stone for anyone more interested in climbing the corporate ladder than staying true to the core values of the Foundation. If the Committee wants you to put 𝑉𝐸𝐿𝑉𝐸𝑇 𝐺𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸 in their place, they don’t have to ask you twice.

𝐾𝐼𝑁𝐺'𝑆 𝐺𝐴𝑀𝐵𝐼𝑇. There was a second after Site-φ Director Buckley Osterholz handed you 𝐾𝐼𝑁𝐺'𝑆 𝐺𝐴𝑀𝐵𝐼𝑇’s photo where you thought a new kill command had come down directly from the Ethics Committee. You’re not sure if you’re relieved that you were mistaken or are just waiting for the other shoe to drop. You wonder if the feeling is mutual.

𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑅𝑆𝐸 𝐸𝑁𝐺𝐼𝑁𝐸𝐸𝑅. Another familiar face, but one you’re less uneasy about encountering again. However, you’re certain the same can’t be said for them — because while you haven’t seen them in person since the final development stages of the Xerox Revision, they’ve certainly seen yours enough to be sick of it.

[dxckinson]

Status: Closed — Self Para / Lore Dump

TW: REFERENCES TO WAR, GENOCIDE, IMPLIED CHILD DEATH

The Hill—the Afternoon—

CASE █████████ PROTOCOL PROPOSED BY: AGENT ████████

RESULTS: SUCCESS — POTENTIAL CRISIS EVENT AVOIDED — FAILED TIMELINE(S) DIVERTED | JANUARY 20, 1981 ; 10:56 EDT | WASHINGTON, DC | EXACT LOCATION: █████████████████ — BOMBING — 151 LIVES SAVED

CHECK POINT DATE AND TIME:  ██-██-████ / ██:██

LOCATION: ████████, NEW YORK — EXACT LOCATION: ██████████████

ASSIGNED TO: AGENT WHITMAN [@whitmanners] & AGENT STEIN [@anotheryear]

MISSION DATE: AUGUST 24th, 1977 — 1:05 PM (MST) | SONORA DESERT — ARIZONA — SERVICE ROAD OF THE N AJO SONOITA HIGHWAY (AZ 85) NEAR WHY, AZ — 32°14'32.7"N 112°46'04.5"W — RESULTS : 256 LIVES SAVED — (1) NEW AGENT RECRUITED

With sweat pouring from every orifice, Gael Esai Tiul-Xol regarded the tightly sealed metal doors of the trailer from the truck’s bed. There was a small array of seemingly random objects laid before him: a short blunt knife, a pile of different sized coins, the laces from various pairs of shoes, a folded pair of tube socks, two rosaries, an empty aluminum can, a small metal nail file, a pocket mirror, and a frayed, three-foot length of braided rope.

Though the items may not have looked like much, these were the tools of his salvation. It was a puzzle he had managed to solve countless times, in another life. Or rather, in a multitude of other lives. He was not aware of this fact, or would ever be. God willing.

Thin ribbons of light pour in through the dozens of rust holes scattered across the top of the truck and the two 6-inch by 4-inch vents on either side of the doors. There was no comfort in the fact that he wouldn't suffocate, however. Behind him, the other migrants on board the semi-truck's trailer were despondent. Moral had plummeted after hours of pushing at the doors and rocking the trailer with no success. And though he managed to calm everyone down as to not exhaust their limited oxygen flow, they all knew what was coming. For as the sun breached the night sky and continued its slow ascend, so had the temperature. He could already feel himself growing weaker as they baked in their steel coffin.

They were running out of time. All he needed was a little more time.

His mind struggled to form a plan, distracted by his own labored breathing and the wails and pleas from his ill-fated travel companions. They cried out for their God, their Shepherd, their saints and martyrs; anyone who could offer them deliverance from their upcoming, excruciating death.

—Por favor, Diosito, ten misericordia en nosotros, tus fieles seguidores. [Please, God, have mercy on us, your loyal followers.] —!Por Dios!, ¿cómo nos pudo dejar aquí? [Oh, God! How could he leave us here?] —¡No somo animales ni basura! ¡Regresa culero! [We’re not animals or trash! Come back, asshole!] —Ten piedad de mí, Señor, conforme a tu misericordia. [Have pity on me, Lord, in accordance with your mercy.] —San Expedito, ayúdenos en esta hora de aflicción y desesperación. [Saint Expeditus, help us in this hour of grief and despiration.] —Por favor, ¡hagan algo! No me puedo morir aquí. Tengo un hijo, por favor…[Please, someone do something! I can’t die here. I have a son, please…]

Part of him wanted to tell them to shut up, so he could think, but could not bring himself to silence their laments when he could offer them no solution, no salvation. Pressing the palms of his hands into the sockets of his eyes, Gael crumpled downward into himself, willing his brain to find the solution with the tools he had before him.

The knife and nail file were too thin and blunt to withstand the force of human desperation. Perhaps the rope could be unbraided and used to rip off on of the welded on metal vents if they used their combined strength, but then what? Even if someone in the truck had arms thin enough to fit in the small rectangular space that would be left, Gael could not remember where the latch for the doors had been. And what if it had been locked with a padlock?

What would he do if, with the temptation of freedom seemingly so close, he lost what little control he had over the group? Would they panic and rush for the gap, crushing everyone in their way? He needed to find the answer before he tried anything. He just needed a little more time.

Keeping his eyes shut, he shifted his hands to cover his ears, trying to visualize the exact make and model of the semi from his memories. Had the latch been at the center, bottom, or the right of the doors? 'C’mon. Remember, damn it!'

So lost in thought, Gael didn’t notice the sound of a vehicle pulling up beside the truck until one of the elderly men on board began to shake his shoulder.

—Mijo, alguien juego. ¡Escucha!, se bajaron del coche… ¿Qué deberíamos hacer? [Young man, someone is here. Listen! They got out of the car… What should we do?]

But the question was a moot point as the others rushed to the side of the truck where the noise had come from and began yelling for help. Straining his ears to hear over the sound of the crowd, he realized with cold trepidation that there is no sound of sirens or police radio chatter. Gael’s heart raced with anxiety as he moved to stand.

Whoever just arrived was not U.S. law enforcement.

He then heard the sound of gravel crunching under boots; whoever was out there was moving towards the doors. Trying to calm down, he noted that the steps were off beat from each other. It had to be more than one person, then. But how many? Two, or more?

As Gael continued to rack his brain, there was movement at the doors; someone was cursing in English. Before Gael could mentally translate what was said, the doors burst open, the full force of the August sun leaving him momentarily blinded. Standing at the front of the group and nearest to the door, Gael spread his arms wide, his eyes tightly shut; he needed to stop his companions from rushing forward before he gave the all clear. They had no idea if whoever had just arrived had ill intentions or not.

His intuition was validated when his eyes adjusted to the harsh sunlight. A Colt AR-15 gleamed in the sun, its barrel aimed directly at the crowd, who shrieked with renewed despair.

—No se muevan. El señor Tiul, por favor bájese del camión. [Nobody move. Mr. Tiul, please step out of the truck.]

Gael’s heart soared, only to drop like lead once he realized his EGP comrades would not speak Spanish in such a heavy American accent.

“C’mon, man. We don’t have all day,” A second voice said, its owner looking directly at him.

‘Must be the Feds then’, Gael thought solemnly, lowering his arms. He wondered who among the EGP ranks would betray them like this. Matching gazes with the agent holding the gun, Gael let out a deep breath and started to step forward, but was stopped by multiple hands grabbing at his shirt and arms. Surprised, he turned back to look at his travel companions.

—No vayas.[Don’t go.] —Algo no está bien, mijito. No lo hagas.[Something isn’t right, sweetie. Don’t do it.] —¿Cuántas balas piensas que tienen? No nos pueden matarnos a todos si avanzamos como un grupo.[How many bullets do you think they have? They can’t kill us all if we move forward as a group.]

Gael knew that the campesinos were no strangers to scenes just like this, where one of their own was taken by men with guns to never be seen or heard from again. But Gael wasn't one of theirs; they had only met him in Nogales prior to this trip. And yet, they felt enough solidarity with the guatemalteco to risk their own lives for his. Their compassion almost brought tears to his eyes. But he would not let them die in his place.

Turning back to face the agents, Gael lifted his chin and addressed them in unaccented English. “What will happen to these people if I go with you?”

—Solamente vinimos por el señor Tiul. La policía y ambulancias llegarán en treinta minutos. No nos importa lo que hacen ustedes. Si se quedan a esperarlos después que nos vamos o no es decisión suya. [We only came for Mr. Tiul. The police and ambulances will be here in thirty minutes. We don't care what the others do. Whether you stay and wait for them after we leave or not is your decision]— the agent with the rifle said in his stiff Spanish.

“How can I trust that you will keep your word?” Gael challenged, shifting his gaze to motion at the gun with a tilt of his head.

“You don’t. You just have to have a little faith in people, Gael,” the second agent responded, a smarmy smirk on his face. “But to be completely frank, you don’t really have a choice here.”

Gael felt rage burning in his chest. They both know who was holding all the cards; Gael’s only bargaining chip was himself.

There was a beat of silence where Gael stared down the English-speaking agent, he quirk an eyebrow at him but say nothing else. Sighing, Gael maked his choice; in the end, the decision was always an easy one. He’d give his life a thousand times over to protect these people every time.

—Déjenme ir. [Let me go.]

Slowly, the vice-like grips loosed as his travel companions quietly came to terms with the reality of the situation they had found themselves in. He briefly wondered if, years from now, they’d still remember the Guatemalan boy they lost in the desert. Or will he be one of many they’d lose as the U.S.’s ‘War on Drugs’ ravaged their country the way the coup ruined his.

As a hush overtook the trailer, Gael stepped forward and into the sun, his hands up in the air. When he reached the edge of the truck’s bed, he kneeled slightly before jumping off and walking away from the vehicle. Eyes on the rifle, he stopped and turned his body towards the agent and slowly stepped backwards a few feet to make sure his back not facing the open doors of the trailer.

The slightly shorter Asian man holding the gun shifted his grip on the Colt AR-15 slightly but said nothing. The man's large, dark eyes seemed... troubled, perhaps; his thick eyebrows bunched up, leaving a deep furrow at the center of his face. Gael pondered on that for a second.

“Good choice,” the English-speaking agent remarked, pulling Gael's attention away from the agent with the gun; Gael turned his head and made eye contact with the other man, perturbed to see something like fondness sparkling in those crow footed eyes.

‘How strange,’ Gael thought, watching the older man closely. His eyes regarded the other's features; the older man's deep set-heavy, lidded eyes, the contours of his jaw, the slant of his nose, and the shape of his eyebrows. 'Light-skin, but not a white man,' Gael thought and narrowed his eyes. Figures that the U.S. would send two of its citizens of color to hunt down a target who'd only been described as an unknown terrorist.

After a moment, the agent snorted, an amused tilt on his lips. Then, he beckoned Gael over with an upward facing palm; all fingers but his pointer and thumb tucked downward, a single gesticulating finger flicking up and down in quick succession. Gael felt a spark of irritation at that; the over familiarity of the gesture grating on his nerves.

Taking a calming breath, Gael turned his head towards the people in the truck, wanting to see them one last time, when the blood drained from his face and his heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach. There was a bearded man in a dark hoodie and a cap watching them from far in the distance; a lone sentinel on the mountain ridge at the edge of the desert.

The coyote had never left.

What kind of person could leave a truck full of people stranded in the desert, and sit back to watch as they perished? Gael’s stomach turned with disgust. For all the kindness in the world, there is also cold, unfeeling cruelty.

Though Gael couldn’t be one-hundred percent certain that the man in the mountains and the man who had driven them across the border were the same person, but who else could it possibly be? Who else would know they were here?

In any case, who ever it was seemed in no hurry to offer help, content to only witnessing what happened down in the valley. Without consciously thinking about it, Gael's body rotated on its axis, drawn to the man in the sierra like a magnet.

“What’s the hold up? Get. Moving,” the gun wielding agent scolded, finally speaking in English. Gael’s attention and head snapped back to a new, more immediate threat: the rifle now pressed against his back.

Licking his dry lips, Gael took the risk to sneak a final glance at the man in the mountains. Though, to his surprise, the man had disappeared in the seconds Gael had taken his eyes off of him. ‘Figures’, he thought grimly.

Refocusing his attention on the agents, Gael muttered a sharp, “Alright, let’s go.” before he raised his hands high in the air and languidly placed them on the top of his head.

The handcuffs never came.

‘These guys must be overly confident that the rifle is enough of a deterrent,’ Gael thought, irritated once more by the overconfidence of the Americans. Taking care to make no sudden movements, Gael swiveled back around to face the agents, hands up still on his head.

Then he paused and waited for further instructions. His eyes lowed slowly to evaluate the snippy agent’s hold on the firearm. Gael couldn't be certain, but he got the distinct impression that the older man didn't feel all that confident, even with a gun.

Playing out all possible scenarios in his head, Gael came to the conclusion that the chances that he could successfully wrestle the gun out of the agent's hands while fending off his partner were not zero. He was significantly younger than them. It probably wouldn't be that hard to out speed the both of them. He could definitely win the tussle and once he got his hands on the rifle, then it'd all be over—

“Don’t even think about it,” The smiley, bearded agent whispered directly into his ear. Gael jumped back, but an arm around his shoulders held him still. He hadn’t even noticed the agent move.

“We don’t actually want to hurt you, kid. This is all just a business proposition,” The man said, a bright smile stretched across his face. The most disturbing part was that the warmth in his eyes seemed genuine.

Fresh sweat collected at Gael’s temples, though the Arizona heat was not to blame this time. 'This dude's nuts,' he thought, mildly horrified.

Gael shifted his sight to the snippy agent, who just rolled his eyes and walked towards the unmarked cruiser parked ten feet away from the trailer. The other man then opened the backseat door and motioned for Gael to get in.

Gael set his jaw, but that option was better than the alternative than continuing to allow the bearded agent to practically snuggle him. Extracting himself from the older man's side, Gael moved in long strides to the vehicle before ducking his head to slid into the back seat. As he started to situate himself in the car, the smiley jerk pushed him and and cheerily said, “Scoot over, the other door doesn’t open.”

“You cannot be serious!” Gael hissed, his anger bubbling over the boiling point.

“Shut up,” The other jerk snapped back from the driver's seat. “We have a lot to go over on the drive.”

Gael glared daggers at the driver as thunder boomed somewhere over the mountain side. Rain soon overtook the valley, as the agent behind the wheel started the car and began to steer towards the N Ajo Sonoita Highway. The weirdo sitting beside Gael casually reached forward into the pocket on the back of the front passenger seat and pulled out a thick, worn manila folder.

“Alright,” he began, shooting Gael another toothy grin as he leafed thought the contents. “Where do we start?”

Roughly an hour later, Gael was staring out the window as rain continues to pelt the car. They were still a few hours away from Phoenix, he thought. In all honesty, his brain was completely fried. He didn’t understand half of what the 'Temporal Bureau' agents had explained to him during the ride. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He was just struggling to wrap his mind around the implications that something like this could be true.

His soul ached at the thought that this was more than some bizarre, elaborate prank. If it was all real, he was just handed the opportunity of a lifetime. Of multiple lifetimes.

“A penny for your thoughts?” The smiley agent hummed. Gael didn’t want to look at Agent 'Whitman'. What a stupid name. That couldn't possibly be his real last name. Was it supposed to be funny? Or 'Stein', but unfortunately for Gael, Agent Stein caught his eyes in the rearview mirror at that very moment.

“You understand that you really don’t have a choice here, right?” The older man groused, those thick eyebrows furrowed deeply again.

Gael glared at Stein for a moment, but it only made him feel a child throwing a tantrum. It was almost as if he never stopped being that angry, little boy lost in El Quiché. Five and thrown into hell on Earth as war broke out; eight and an orphan; eleven and his remaining family wiped out like they were nothing; thirteen and struggling to scratch out an existence; sixteen and looking for any sort of answer that would give reason to the madness that was his life.

The futility of resistance in the absence of choice resonated deep in his bones, in the atoms that vibrated together to create his very existence. He knew it was pointless, but old habits died the hardest; and all he had ever done in his life was fight and rebel to the biter end.

But if what the 'Temporal Bureau' had told him was correct, his greatest battle was already lost. His entire's life's work all but a tiny glitch in the matrix that needed to be fixed, erased, eradicated; one way or another. This was just a new solution they were trying and in the end, the choice was never truly his.

He'd either fold or be destroyed a thousand times over until they got it right.

On one hand, this was a harrowing, universe shattering revelation that should have broken his mind and sent him into madness. But on the other, what was this if not the Holy Grail of life purposes? How many more trailers full of people could be saved if he joined? How many wars could he stop before they even started?

After another moment of quiet contemplation, Gael opened his mouth, the strained, hollow quality of his voice startling him, “Where do I sign?”

Beside him, 'Whitman' burst into laughter.

—¿Oye, pinche chucho, de qué te ríes? [Hey, fucking mutt, what are you laughing at?], Gael snarled.

“What I tell you, Stein? This kid’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

Hours later, at the Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport, Gael Esai Tiul-Xol stared blankly at the massive throngs of people milling to and fro down the crowded halls. He was waiting for someone, though he did not know who. Agents Whitman and Stein had dropped him off roughly fifteen minutes ago and told him to wait at the second terminal for whoever it was that would pick him up.

A migraine pounded at his temples. He couldn't believe the agents had left him; after everything that had happened, after everything they had told him. He had half a mind to just get up and leave. It'd be easy to slip away, lost among the hoard of people. But a part of him wondered how many times he'd lived this event, and if the speech the 'Temporal Bureau' agents had given him was just a song and dance they'd gone through countless times.

Yawning loudly, Gael rubbed sleep out of his eyes, trying to remember the last thing Whitman had said to him before they let him out of the car. What had it been? 'You'll know they're here to pick you up the moment you see them?' What a fucking load of dog shit. Like he'd be able to pick out another pair of agents in this crowd, when the first two had just been some nondescript guys.

Lowering his fist away from his eyes, Gael beadily stared down the people filing through the entrance of the terminal. His eyes lingered on a messy head of ash brown hair, then trailed down to the neat dark locks of their companion. Gael froze in place, his eyes fluttered in disbelief. At a lost, he looked around the open space, but no one else seemed to notice how extraordinary this instant in time was.

On the other side of the room, Agent Whitman, a younger version of him, matched gazes with his. The other man then lifted an open file before elbowing his partner and pointing towards Gael.

Gael Esai Tiul-Xol felt his heart fly up towards the mood and his face broke out into an elated smile.

Time travel was real.

[manufakturatkanin]

Sklep z materiałami – idealne miejsce dla każdego krawca

Jeśli szukasz miejsca, w którym znajdziesz różnorodne tkaniny oraz niezbędne akcesoria do szycia, sklep z materiałami to doskonałe rozwiązanie. W zależności od potrzeb, możesz tu zaopatrzyć się w produkty, które umożliwią realizację zarówno prostych, jak i bardziej zaawansowanych projektów krawieckich. W tym artykule przyjrzymy się ofercie takich sklepów i podpowiemy, jak wybrać najlepszy dla siebie.

Szeroki wybór tkanin

Każdy sklep z materiałami oferuje szeroki asortyment tkanin. Znajdziesz tam zarówno bawełnę, len, jak i bardziej specjalistyczne materiały, jak jedwab, tiul czy aksamit. W zależności od tego, czy tworzysz ubrania, zasłony, czy inne tekstylia domowe, wybór odpowiedniej tkaniny ma kluczowe znaczenie dla efektu końcowego. Dobre sklepy oferują nie tylko duży wybór, ale również pomoc w dopasowaniu materiału do Twoich potrzeb.

Akcesoria krawieckie i dodatki

W sklepach z materiałami oprócz tkanin znajdziesz także akcesoria, które są niezbędne w każdym warsztacie krawieckim. Zamki, guziki, igły, nici – to tylko część bogatej oferty. Dzięki temu możesz zaopatrzyć się w jednym miejscu we wszystko, co potrzebne do realizacji projektu, co znacznie ułatwia pracę i oszczędza czas.

Jak wybrać najlepszy sklep?

Wybór sklepu z materiałami zależy od indywidualnych potrzeb. Warto zwrócić uwagę na jakość oferowanych tkanin, obsługę klienta oraz dostępność produktów. Dobrze wyposażony sklep z materiałami to miejsce, gdzie każdy – zarówno profesjonalista, jak i amator – znajdzie coś dla siebie.

Sklep z materiałami to miejsce, które warto odwiedzić, jeśli zależy Ci na wysokiej jakości materiałach i kompleksowej obsłudze.

[polishwomenartists-sztukakobiet]

Sara Lipska,

Sukienka, ok. 1925, jedwab, tiul, atłas, Musée de Poitiers

[batri-jopa]

Zobacz! Pająki tkały welon Twój,

Widzisz? Z pajęczej przędzy tkany tiul.

Kiedy Ty, Ty, Ty staniesz rankiem przy mnie,

Błysną w nim klejnoty rosy.

Słowo Jedyne "Ty" (1974) K.Dzikowski, Czerwone Gitary

Look! The spiders have weaved your bridal veil, See? The tulle is made of the spider's yarn, And when you, you, you will stand by me in the morning It will glitter with the jewels of dew.

Spiderweb Veils // Which Goose

[timelessfm]

𝚆𝙴𝙻𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴 ! below the cut, you'll find the list of accepted players. before we move on, i will once again let myself sound like a broken record and extend a huge, huge thank you to every single one of you who's applied. all of your applications have been a joy to read & the choices were so damn difficult to make. i'm sorry to everyone who hasn't got in but i hope you still keep this group in the back of your mind and if there's ever an opportunity to apply again in the future, i hope you consider it ! i genuinely had a blast reading everyone's work and it was truly a pleasure to get to meet all of your characters. i appreciate your hard work and your enthusiasm so much, you guys have no idea how happy i am that you've given this such a lovely welcome and had nothing but kind words to offer. once again, thank you <3 and congrats to everyone accepted ! please follow the checklist and i can't wait to hear from you !

artemus yang as 𝙱𝙰𝙻��𝚆𝙸𝙽 played by keva

your application has been such a ride and it's been some of the most fun and creative writing i've seen in a while. i absolutely adored the way you captured baldwin and london's relationship, the quote-unquote meet cute got me so excited and i was hooked from the very start. congrats !

alice garcía-xú as 𝙱𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙾𝙿 played by mia

i am so obsessed with alice's backstory and the way she was introduced to the bureau, i just can't wait to see where the mystery of her husband's death goes. aka i can't wait for shady bureau business. congrats !

dilan shah as 𝙲𝙷𝙾𝙿𝙸𝙽 played by cass

you captured the vibe i was going for with chopin perfectly ! the bright-eyed enthusiasm, the neverending curiosity, the way chopin is so desperate for approval from their new teammates. dilan is a character with so much potential and i can't wait to see it play out. congrats !

gael esai tiul as 𝙳𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽 played by clow

the sheer amount of detail in your app literally brought me to my knees. i loved the historical setting you placed dickinson in and man, was your application a joy to read—so immersive and i couldn't wait to read more. and not gonna lie, the death part? got me emotional. and the jump ! i'm so excited for gael. congrats !

choi in-su as 𝙵𝙰𝚄𝙻𝙺𝙽𝙴𝚁 played by pi

i'm so happy you reached out with this idea to me and i can't wait to see faulkner in action—a character so out of place, who had to learn the world anew but the way he agreed to it like that, almost as if he knew exactly what he was doing. it was another app with an insane amount of care put into the details and the historical context and it was so damn impressive. congrats !

alfred powell as 𝙵𝙸𝚃𝚉𝙶𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙻𝙳 played by aaron

you had me at the combo of math and jazz and ella fitzgerald. i love how self-assured and no-bullshit alfred is and the relationships part of your app was so clever and had me laughing out loud. and the way it finished with fitzgerald wondering and questioning—ahh, i want him to get those answers now. congrats!

jonathan liyuan cheung as 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙸𝙽 played by mimz

as the local cain enjoyer, your stein truly just hit all the spots for me. the idea of the bureau making a mistake and the ripple that one single event sends across time is phenomenal and i love where you went with it so much. i am so excited to see stein in action. congrats !

miriam rosenbaum as 𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚄 played by laine

i am so obsessed with miriam's fall from grace—that one little slip that ruined her life....or did it. i love how you explored her conflicted feelings about the bureau and i adore the idea that she suspects that the senator's death that ended her career was something that the organisation had a hand in. and the graveyard visit got me needing tissues for real. congrats !

raphael pérez de la peña 𝚆𝙷𝙸𝚃𝙼𝙰𝙽 played by seb

you really know how to paint a picture, truly felt like i was talking to raphael myself. and you got me absolutely screaming with the part about his parents' fight. getting to meet your whitman was such a journey and i can't wait to continue it. congrats !

adelina “ada” montalván as 𝙾𝙲 ( agent code name pending ) played by taryn

ada is such a phenomenal character, i just couldn't stop thinking about her. i love the idea of her being displaced in time like this and then the bureau orchestrating her life to look the way they want it to but not without its price. i am so so excited to see where you'll take her. congrats !

[bodypainting-art]

Bodypainting i kostiumy mojego autorstwa. Specjalnie zaprojektowane i wykonane na jeden z eventów w stylu future. Włosy cudowna @stacjaurodajozefow Makijaż Anna Rącka #future #sifi #bodypainting #stylizacja #makeportraits #silverhair #silvermakeup #facepainting #futurestyle #silvercosplay #silver #costumedesigners #silvercostume #cosplaygirls #tiulowasukienka #tiule #kostiumteatralny #atrakcjeeventowe #polskiedziewczyny #polskiehostessy #subsequent #inthefuture #ultimate #strojereklamowe (w: Warsaw, Poland) https://www.instagram.com/p/CcVtBwHq2rT/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ula-design-blog]

[smoothcperator]

✦ 𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑘 001. 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫 — [𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅] 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚞𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 [𝟸/𝟸𝟺/𝟸𝟺]

BASICS. 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄:

Gael Esai Tiul-Xol

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒:

none yet unless we count OS calling him 'Commander' a nickname 👀

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌:

Oscar Isaac

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒:

Salt and pepper hair | 2 moles next to his left eye that line up horizontally along with 1 above his left eyebrow and 1 on his left cheekbone that create a rough diamond shape | various scars all across his body but the most noticeable is a groove near the center of his left cheek from a bullet grazing his face | likes to cover up, always in long sleeves, hoodies, jackets, or trench coats

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 / 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒:

N/A

𝐀𝐆𝐄 / 𝐃.𝐎.𝐁.:

44 | 02/02/1979 (GROUNDHOG DAY)

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂:

Aquarius Sun, Aries Moon, Scorpio Rising

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍:

Huehuetenango, Guatemala / Phoenix, Arizona

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘:

father, mother, oldest brother, oldest sister, older brother, younger sister (names tbd), he has not had any contact with them since joining the Foundation.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒:

Cis man, He/Him

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘:

Demisexual, masc leaning

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒:

Single, never married

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒:

Proactive, Adaptable, Efficient, Disciplined, Observant, Independent, Diplomatic, Persuasive, Empathetic, Curious

𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒:

Restless, Sensitive, Cynical, Stubborn, Idealistic, Cautious, Judgemental, Mischievous, Deflective, Pushy, Impulsive

𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒:

gives nicknames, carries an A5 journal on him at all times, putting a hand to his chin when he's deep in thought, scratching his cheeks lightly when he's embarrassed, pinching the bridge of his nose when he's feeling annoyed or overwhelmed, he cannot stand silence so he will hum, sing, talk to himself/narrate what he is doing if there's no one around to talk to/if no one is willing to engage in conversation with him

𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒:

he is constantly picking up and dropping new hobbies, but the the ones that stuck were: journaling, photography, and reading; most recent was learning the acoustic guitar

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐒 (𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄):  

Gomita “Gummy/Gumdrop”, tabby cat

THE FOUNDATION.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄:

MTF Commander, Chi-00 "The Broken Scales of Themis"

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍(𝐒):

MTF Operative, Delta-4 “Minutemen,” Lambda-12 “Pest Control,” and Xi-13 “Sequere Nos”, Omega-1 "Law's Left Hand"

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓:

MTF OMEGA-1 ; Located and terminated Director ████████ ██████, Head Researcher ████ █████, and General █████ ██████ after a data breach on █ / █ / █ was traced back to them. [𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅] was also able to confirm a connection between this breach and Group of Interest, Anderson Robotics.

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒:

hand-to-hand combat, firearms, guerrilla warfare, bomb making and disarming, infiltration, wiretapping, reconnaissance, counterintelligence, assassinations, rhetoric, persuasion, dialectic, acoustic guitar

EXTRAS.

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘: C/P from sample app for now (threat)

Rescued in 2000 by  MTF Xi-5, “Newton's Bullies,” during the preliminary exploration into SCP-35320’s domain, anomalous location SCP 35320-1, 𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅’s introduction to the Foundation was nothing short of a miracle. Missing person reports from the time revealed that 𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅 had been reported as MIA after he disappeared during a training exercise in the Tucson Mountains by Unit 162 WG of the Arizona Air National Guard on November 17, 1998. It’s in the popular belief that 𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅 was selected at random by SCP-35320 due to his age or simply because the opportunity presented itself as no one else in his unit was captured by 35320 for its ‘game.’ [See Mission File #871-341-X for more information. Must be Clearance Level 5 or higher to access the file.] Once Xi-5 breached the boundary of anomalous location SCP 35320-1, the parameters to SCP-35320’s ‘game’ were met, and it began to systematically hunt down members of Xi-5, leading to multiple casualties. X-9, Op. Zuri Williams, and X-4, Op. Thomas Smith (KIA) made initial contact with 𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅 after they became separated from the rest of the unit. The Foundation promptly took him into custody for debriefing once Xi-5 exited SCP-35320’s domain. However, due to the Foundation’s limited research on SCP-35320, it soon became apparent that the likelihood of Xi-5 escaping was incredibly low as SCP-35320 dispatched more unit members. In an act of desperation, MTFC Ingrid Olsen made the call that 𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅 would be of better use as a soldier under Olsen’s command rather than a prisoner. This decision was what ultimately allowed for the neutralization of SCP-35320 as 𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅’s knowledge of the terrain and SCP-35320’s ‘rules’ were immeasurably valuable for the success of the mission. Because of his usefulness during the mission, the question of what to do with 𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅 after debriefing led to both Head Researcher, Dr. Diego Ochoa, and the MTF Xi-5 Commander contacting separate Ethics Committee liaisons due to the uniqueness of this case. To avoid potentially losing a valuable asset to the Foundation, the Ethics Committee decreed to spare 𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅, offering the man options of receiving Class B amnestics and returning to his family, or joining the Foundation. It is unclear why 𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅 made the choice he did, but the Foundation gained an invaluable asset that day. In his 24 years of service with the Foundation since this incident,  𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅 has come to sport an impressive career in various MTFs, such as  Delta-4 “Minutemen,” Lambda-12 “Pest Control,” and Xi-13 “Sequere Nos” before finally landing in Omega-1 “Law's Left Hand” after being hand selected by the Ethics Committee for his part in in the Xerox Revision. While he is one of the most reliable mainstays in Omega-1, it is unclear how much longer the Ethics Committee is willing to risk 𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅 in the field.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

tbd

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 / 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒:

It Began with a twist of Fate, Conditioned to Accept Horror, Trauma Conga Line, Jade-Colored Glasses, One-Man Army, Despair Event Horizon, Identity Breakdown, The McCoy, To be Lawful or Good, Beware the Honest Ones, Sliding Scale of Idealism vs. Cynicism, Sliding Scale of Free WIll vs. Fate,

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

R.J. MacReady (The Thing 1982), Glenn Rhee (The Walking Dead), Finn (Star Wars), Poe Dameron (Star Wars), Aragorn (The Lord of the Rings), Nina Fortner (Naoki Urasawa's Monster), Wolfgang Grimmer (Naoki Urasawa's Monster), Dean Winchester (Supernatural), Sam Winchester (Supernatural), Simba (The Lion King)

𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒: *tw: blood mention

[mincedoaths]

BAKARI KHAN-WILLIAMS / 38 / Villain / HAVOC

intro / musings / threads

AMAR KAPOOR / 40 / Level II Agent / PHOENIX intro / musings / threads

KINTAN NAIK / 70 / Anti-Hero / SAPROPHYTE

intro / musings / threads

GAEL ESAI TIUL-XOL / 44 / Vigilante / DEAD RINGER intro / musings / threads

[butterflym089]

Elena of Avalor -   In The Glorious Now (Polish song)

S03E02 -   To Save a Sunbird

[dxckinson]

remember that you [have to] die

quick bio / dossier / skeleton / connections / playlist / pinterest

lore: recruitment / — / — /

TW: REFERENCES TO WAR, GENOCIDE, IMPLIED CHILD DEATH

name: Gael Esai Tiul-Xol

name meaning: Gael (gracious) Esai (salvation) Tiul (to bind) Xol (to tie down)

age: 41 (February 2, 1955, Groundhog Day)

zodiac: Aquarius Sun, Gemini Moon, Cancer Rising

place of birth: Santa Maria Nebaj, El Quiché, Guatemala

family: father ♰, mother ♰, oldest brother ♰, older sister ♰, older brother ♰, younger sister ♰

gender: Cis Man

pronouns: he/him

languages: Ixil, Spanish, Brazilian Portuguese, English

face claim: Oscar Isaac

this character's backstory is tied to pi's faulkner

[paryzankaaa]

[daniel-eryk]

📸 @p.balejko.fotografia #wodanamłyn #piąteurodziny #salonpolski #premiere #polka #performance #uchwyceniwkadrze #tiul #onstage #beard #bearded #dancer (w: Warsaw, Poland) https://www.instagram.com/p/BrPneoQACuz/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1esu9fdsbneyj