KuroTenshi

Delta Green: Whispers in the Darkness

>1812...///

Ava opened the front door of the house and was greeted with the spicy, sweet and now familiar scent of Laine’s clove cigarettes. She smiled at Laine lounging in the folding chair as she stepped out into the warm summer evening. “Hey.” She said as she stepped out and shut the door behind her. “Is it okay if I join you?”

Laine glanced over her shoulder when the door opened, smiling as Ava stepped out, “Sure, if you don’t mind the smoke.”

She shifted the chair around, so it faced the low step, “We should have more chairs.”

“Get a complete set.” Ava chuckled as she sat herself down on the concrete step. “Dinner was good by the way, thank you for making it.” She said, placing her hands over her bent up knees.

“No problem, I like cooking,” she replied, crossing her legs. “Donnelley prepped, he’s handy with a knife. Looks like they’re gearing up...boys night out.”

Laine took a drag, hiding her concern as she turned her head and blew the smoke away from Ava. “We’ll just sit around and give each other manicures and try to break this damn case open.”

“Yeah.” Ava frowned, glancing back at the door for a moment. “I’m worried about them, I hope things go well and no one gets hurt.” Especially over a vital piece of information she hadn’t been able to uncover. “I’ve got some ideas about the case though. I’m not an investigator like you and Pari but, I don’t know, maybe an outside the box perspective might help?”

“Me too, but they know what they’re doing,” Laine said, glancing over at her, “And of course, I welcome your participation, you’re a smart cookie. Plus you have found those emails and maps, that’s really going to help. Trust me, the ‘experts’ are spinning our wheels, we can use the help.”

“I’ll try to provide it.” Ava smiled, her feet lightly tapping on the steps for a moment. “But, um, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about.” She said, the smile fading to a confused frown, her brows knitting together to add to her bewildered expression.

Laine flicked the ashes, sitting up to give Ava her attention. Her gaze met with Ava's, the soft light of the late summer evening giving her red curls a fuzzy halo. "Anything, of course. What's on your mind?"

“Just, something you said earlier I can’t really wrap my head around and I can’t tell if it’s the concept itself or I’m just weird.” She said, reaching up to rub the back of her neck. “The stuff about only feeling sexual gratification through violence? I just...Can’t get my head around it.” She shook her head. “How does that happen?”

Laine smiled slightly, giving Ava an amused glance. "Because you don't understand why someone gets sexual gratification by extreme violence doesn't make you weird. It makes you normal."

She took a drag, the clove cigarette crackling softly as the embers flared, "If you're asking how paraphilic disorders occur, it can vary depending on possible other psychological disorders and early childhood experiences. Sex and violence become fused and that's where the danger starts."

Laine huffed a soft dry sigh, not quite a laugh. "I don't suppose that answers your question?'

“I guess not.” Ava frowned, looking down at her knees. “I just don’t get it, is sexual gratification really that important?”

"It's worth killing for some," Laine said with a sigh, "Sexual gratification is a powerful motivating force. Haven't you ever done something risky because you're aroused by it?"

“Uuh, not really, no.” Ava said, clearing her throat as she looked back down at her knees, her fingers drumming on her legs. “I don’t really, um, have that?”

Laine glanced over at her, taking a moment for the silence to hang between them on the chance Ava might add anything else. When the quiet stretched too long, Laine asked, "Sexual arousal?"

Ava flushed and nodded, still looking down. “Yeah, I’m a little...asexual.” She said hesitantly, chancing a nervous look back up at Laine to see her reaction.

Laine tilted her head a bit, eyeing Ava's expression, "Just a little? Do you mean on the scale of asexuality?"

“Yes.” She said, straightening up slightly and lifting her head higher when Laine didn’t immediately reject the notion. “You know about it?” She asked, curiosity mixed with relief sparking across her eyes.

Laine nodded, tapping the growing ash from her cigarette, "I have, though it's not a subject that comes up often in my line of work. Human sexuality is fascinating to me so I've read about it on my own. It's not exactly codified in psychological texts but I believe it to be valid. What brought you to this conclusion that you're asexual?"

She paused then added, "If you don't mind me asking?"

“I don’t mind.” Ava smiled. “It’s actually nice to be able to talk about this, outside of the Internet anyway.” She brushed some of her hair behind her ear. “And I don’t feel sexual attraction when I look at people, so that’s how I came to that conclusion.” She answered with a slight shrug. “Well, no, sorry,” She frowned at herself. “I’ve felt it one time but haven’t again since so I think I’m on the Gray Asexual or Demisexual side of the spectrum.”

Laine shifted in her chair, propping her elbow on the arm of the chair, as she looked at Ava, "Tell me about the first time that you felt it, what happened?"

“Oh, um,” Ava rubbed her hands together as she frowned in thought. “I was in college and I was about 13 years old, just started going through puberty. There was this guy I had a lot of classes with and he was basically my best friend. He looked out for me, hung out with me and we were close.” She looked down at her hands and shrugged again. “It felt like one day a switch or something got flipped on and for weeks all I could think about was him and me doing…” She trailed off and rolled her hand in a vague gesture. “You know.”

"Having sex," Laine filled in, "Did you ever do more with him other than fantasizing? Tell him about your feelings?"

“Absolutely not.” Ava shook her head with a grimace. “He saw me as like his little sister and he was 25 at the time, it would have freaked him out. I didn’t know what to do with my feelings though and I kind of...sabotaged our friendship over it.” She sighed and hung her head, pushing up her glasses to put her face in her hands. “Thinking back on it, I feel like such an asshole.”

"It's certainly a confusing time," Laine said, quiet for a moment as her gaze drifted past Ava, before she snapped out of her drifting thoughts, then looked at her intently, "What happened that you feel that way, like an asshole?"

“I avoided him.” She said, her voice muffled slightly by her hands. “I got myself transferred out of the classes we shared, didn’t take his calls and tried to avoid him on campus. He ended up confronting me about it and I had a meltdown and yelled at him I just didn’t want to be friends anymore.” Ava lowered her hands and folded her arms on her knees, her eyes on a crack in the concrete with a little yellow weed trying to grow out of it. “And we never spoke again.”

Laine bit the inside of her lip, knowing it must have been terrible. How lonely to not be among kids her own age at that time. "Did you talk to anyone about your feelings for him? Obviously, you would have been too young to pursue him but it's confusing when sexual feelings get mixed with previously platonic affection. Especially the first time."

“...No.” Ava admitted, glancing over at her, brushing some of her hair behind her ear so she could see her better. “I was afraid people would think I was weirder than they already did or they might think he was preying on me or something. I just wanted to forget the feelings and move on.”

Laine smoked in silence, letting her settle on those internal observations. Finally, she said, "Those were valid fears, and being as intelligent as you are it might have been frustrating not to understand why you felt these passions towards your friend, someone perhaps you even looked up to as a brother or at least a mentor? So, you pushed him, the source of this trouble as you saw it, away. And then the feelings ended?"

“Eventually, they went away, yeah,” Ava answered with a frown. “Then I never felt sexual attraction again, I finally looked into it when I was about 20 and discovered the asexuality spectrum.”

Laine thought for a moment, examining Ava then the last glowing embers of the black cigarette. "So you have never felt anything for anyone since then? Not even another friend or co-worker?"

“Not really, I actually don’t have a lot of friends,” Ava admitted slowly. “I have one friend, my neighbor. With coworkers I usually only discussed work with them, I didn’t socialize much outside of that.” She nodded her head back to the door. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but UMBRA is the closest I’ve felt to people outside my family in a long time. Especially Donnelley, Dave and, um, you.” She said with a small smile.

Laine returned her smile, her thoughts turning to Dave and Donnelley and how very different her own relationship with them was. She cleared her throat, "Bonds forged under fire are often very strong. Especially in our situation where we can't tell anyone outside the Program about what we experience. I certainly consider you a friend, Ava. I'm glad you see me the same way."

The dark-haired woman looked at her, perched on the porch step and said, "Just a word of advice, don't be ashamed of feelings. Even the troublesome ones, they have merit and are valid. If you want to, you can always talk to me and it stays between us. I can't offer therapy or anything but I can be a friend."

“Thanks Laine,” Ava said, her smile brightening. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” She suddenly gave her a mischievous look. “I don’t know if you remember, but last night you said I could call you Heather.”

Laine chuckled then rubbed her finger along her jaw, "Vaguely, I recall. You can if you want, I am not fond of my first name but it is mine."

“I won’t,” Ava said with a chuckle. “I like Laine better, Heather sounds like...the antagonist in a 90s teenager movie. Like you’re the bitchy cheer captain or something.”

"Watch Heather's, it's where my mom got the idea," Laine said, rubbing out the cigarette butt in the ashtray on the ground beside the chair. "Popular antagonists, for sure. Luckily my dad has a cool last name."

She flashed a grin, then glanced thoughtfully at the front door. It wouldn't be long before most of the men left to go after Jay and Laine said quietly, "I almost wish I was going."

Ava glanced back at the door as well. “You do?” She asked with a frown, turning her eyes back to Laine. “Any reason why?”

She ran her fingers through her short dark hair, "To question him, of course. It's hard for me to let go of that need. To be part of the interrogation but...it's not an FBI investigation."

“No,” Ava frowned. “It’s not.” She glanced back at the house, where the Operators were getting ready to go out on a hunt. “There’s still plenty for us to figure out though.” She said, turning back to Laine with a small, encouraging smile. “Things that need investigating. Did you want to hear the theory Queen and I came up with?”

"Jumping right in with the new guys?" Laine said, "Impressive. What did you come up with?"

“Well, Donnelley asked that we work together on finding Renko.” Ava explained. “So I filled him in and he thinks that the reason this Renko guy is still alive despite being trouble for Jay and the Russians is because he must have someone of affluence protecting him. Someone the Russians and AB don’t want to piss off. And we theorized the same thing about the killer during the briefing because he’s bringing attention to Blackriver people don’t want. So, maybe Renko is the name of the killer?” She suggested with a slight frown. “I’m not an investigator like you, does it sound completely out there?”

Laine nodded slowly, "That does sound promising, it hits a lot of points on the profile as well. I'll be sure to remind Donnelley about asking after Renko. I'm glad you picked that out of the emails, very astute."

“Thanks.” She smiled. “Once Donnelley picks up Jay, I’m sure we’ll get our answers.”

Laine stayed quiet then fished out another cigarette, contemplating it rather than lighting. "I'm sure we will, they're professionals at this right? I just have to let them do their thing."

She stood up, "I think I'm going to take a little walk around the block. Don't worry, I'm packing."

Laine flashed her Glock in the holster in her open hoodie. "If anyone asks, I'll be back in a few minutes. I just need to...walk."

“Oh, okay,” Ava said, giving her a mildly concerned look as she glanced back out at the neighborhood. “Do you want to be alone? Maybe one of the guys can keep you company?”

"I'd rather be alone," Laine admitted, then shrugged, "The guys are busy anyway. I won't be long, literally just around the block. Besides, I grew up wandering around LA, I can take care of myself."

She put the cigarette back into the box and started walking briskly down the driveway.

“Aright, be safe!” Ava called out after her as she watched her walk away. The idea of staying on the front steps until Laine came back, to make sure she was okay, tickled her mind but thought better of it. Laine probably wouldn’t appreciate her sitting out on the stoop like a lonely puppy waiting for her.

She sighed and stood up, dusting off the back of her pants before walking back into the house.

Delta Green: Whispers in the Darkness

>LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
>THE PROGRAM HEADQUARTERS,
>CIA HEADQUARTERS
>2019.13.JULY
>0930...///

The elevator doors slid open and Ava stepped off, an empty box in her arms and her laptop bag over her shoulder. She was dressed in her usual work attire, a pleated brown skirt, a peach colored cable sweater with a little shirt white collar peeking out and her mass of curly hair wrestled back into a braided bun.

The past week had been a welcome break from the events of Blackriver. She talked to her grandparents at least once a day and spent time with Mrs. Grier, mostly getting her vegetable garden ready for the autumn planting.

It had helped her settle down, finding relaxation in the normalcy of the routine. Even her sleep had improved a little, she still had a fitful rest or two but she at least got enough sleep to remain clear headed and sharp.

So when she arrived back at Headquarters, she was fully ready to throw herself into her work. After she finished packing up her old office.

Ava opened the door to her office and wasn't surprised to see that the computer equipment was already gone, as was her filing cabinet. Someone must have already moved both items to her new office, which she was grateful for. Everything else that was either personal or decorative remained.

With a deep breath and a slightly heavy heart over the closing of this chapter of her life, she set down her box and started packing things up.

A knock on the doorframe announced someone’s presence. Turning around revealed it to be SSA Stark, a soft smile in the doorway and two cups of coffee, “How are you?”

Ava glanced back and smiled over at the familiar face of Agent Stark. “I’m alright, all things considered.” She answered, tucking a hedgehog shaped pot containing a fake succulent inside of the box. She walked over to him and accepted one of the cups of coffee. “Thank you.” She said before taking a sip of the warm brew. “Working Groups are...definitely different.”

“You’re right about that. My old Working Group was both the most fulfilling and terrifying time of my life.” Stark chuckled. He looked Ava up and down, “I hope nothing was too exciting your first week.”

“Uuh,” Ava cleared her throat and took another drink of her coffee as she turned around to go back to packing her desk. “Exciting is one way to put it.” She said, setting down the coffee mug to pack up some pictures. “I was actually hoping you might be able to help me with something relating to the case?” She asked to change the subject.

“Sure,” Stark nodded, “Whatever you need.”

“We came across a name or a title and I wanted to do a deep dive in the database for it, in case we have anything already on file.” She turned back around to face him with an inquisitive arch to her eyebrows. “Something called The Sleeper.”

“You need me to put in a request? You and your team might have to travel, what’s your timeframe here?” Stark frowned, his face playing on curiosity.

“We’ll be hitting the field again in about a week,” Ava answered with a thoughtful frown. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be there, it depends on a few variables.” She returned his curious look with one of her own. “Where would we need to travel too?” She asked.

“The BLACKBOX.” Stark sipped his coffee and continued when he saw no sign of recognition from Ava, “Alaska.”

Ava’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open slightly. “We’re going to need to go to Alaska?” She shut her mouth and smiled sheepishly at her reaction. “Well, at least we’ll be going somewhere pretty.” She said with an awkward chuckle. Though the location sounded more than a little ominous.

She flashed him a more natural and grateful smile. “Thank you Agent Stark, I really appreciate this.” Ava pretended to glance around to make sure they were alone. “If you ever need my help on something, let me know and I’ll try to find time between missions.” She said with a grin.

“Of course,” Stark smiled, raising his cup to Ava, “I’ll let you get back to work, I’ve got things to do. Good luck out there, Ava.”

She picked up her mug and raised it to him in return. “Thank you Agent Stark, for everything.” She said before taking a sip of the cooling coffee, watching as he left the room.

BLACKBOX, huh. She thought with a frown as she set the mug down and continued packing up her personal items and decorative knick knacks that brightened up the dull grey office.

Once everything was packed up, she picked up the box and only felt the slightest twinge in her side from lifting it. She stopped in the doorway, looking back at the empty office for a few moments, before she flicked off the lights and shut the door.

---

Ava set down the sleepy little ceramic hedgehog pot with the fake succulent on her new desk and folded up the now empty box she used to carry everything. Her new office wasn’t too dissimilar to her old one, though it seemed a little smaller, it was still a dreary gray cube with no window and harsh fluorescent lighting. She was already contemplating putting up a few more decorations to help brighten the room up, especially given the nature of her new work.

But, that could wait until later.

She sat herself down in front of the dual monitors and turned on her system before getting out her laptop from the bag slung over the back of her chair. She set up her laptop on the desk as well, hooking it up to the tower tucked under her desk and went about copying files over from her laptop to the computer’s harddrive.

After going through a general system check up to make sure everything was still working after her absence and the move, she pulled her headphones out of her laptop bag. “Alright Mr. Mitterick.” She said, placing the headphones on her head and turning on the music on her phone sitting on a holder that looked like a happy stretching cat. She selected a slow and steady instrumental song that was a mixture of gentle electronic rhythms and acoustic instruments.

As the low beats drifted into her ears, she cracked her knuckles and set her hands on the keyboard. “Where are you hiding?”

---

>1934...///

Ava scrolled through her contacts as she leant back into her cushioned desk chair, a moment of well earned satisfaction washing through her. Half of the fluorescent lights above her were turned off, allowing the orange tinted light of her computer screens to bathe her in it’s warm glow.

She glanced at the time on her phone before selecting ‘Agent Donnelley’ in her contacts. She had not intended to stay as late as she did, but one promising lead had turned into a veritable treasure trove of information. At least she had plenty of food to reheat when she got home, thanks to Mrs. Grier and Thor had his automatic feeder to put food in his bowl. As soon as she made this last call, she would go home and celebrate.

She tapped the call function and held the phone to her ear as it rang, peeking up over her monitors to make sure that her office door was closed.

“J. Donnelley.” Came from the receiver, professional, but a kindness under the words for his friend and teammate.

Ava perked up hearing him answer and sat back down. “Donnelley! It’s Ava! I have good news about my research into Jay.”

“That’s great!” Donnelley’s voice perked up from the other end, “Are you able to discuss it over the phone? I can be in town sometime soon. Been a bit busy, but I should be free.”

“I think you might want to go over this in person.” Ava said with a wide grin. “I might have found a residence and I’ve definitely hacked into Jay’s ‘work’ email, so there’s a lot of information to go over. I’ve already let Foster know too, but he can’t make it to town so I have to make him cliff notes.”

“Well, uh,” Donnelley’s smile was in his words as he spoke, “Just give me some time to doll myself up and I’ll be over. Where we meetin’?”

“Uuh,” She frowned and glanced around her office. “My office at Langley? Unless you need me to pick you up from the airport or something?”

“I need to be there anyway. Meet in the parkin’ lot?” Donnelley asked.

Ava nodded, then realized a moment later he couldn’t see it. “Sure, how soon will you be able to make it to town?” She asked.

“Few hours. See ya then.” Donnelley said, ending the call.

“Wait, to-” She frowned as the call ended and she set down her phone. “Guess I’m working even later than I thought.”

---

>CIA HEADQUARTERS
>LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
>JUL.14.2019
>0100...///

Donnelley had not been here for a long time. His dual citizenship with the Agency and the Program making that an oddity. He walked the nearly empty halls of Langley until he got to an office that had not seen him in a long, long time. It was like returning home, even moreso than when he visited his old house in Seattle. He placed his hand on the door and looked down both ends of the dimly lit hallway, whatever night owls that were staying overtime in the Agency’s Directorate of Operations didn’t bother lighting hallways they wouldn’t walk down for a few hours yet.

He twisted the knob and pushed the door aside to reveal a little office that seemed like a memory torn from his head. It had not been touched for years. The same D.R.I poster on the wall, old computer and monitor, a coffee cup still dirty sitting precariously on a corner of his desk. He breathed in the air, smelling of dust. Pursing his lips, he made his way to his desk to make the call. The dial tone on the other end going for a bit until, “Smitty Larsson, Operations.”

“How’s Viktor?” Donnelley asked, “He talk?”

“Oh, shit, Donnelley. What’s up?” Smitty perked up, “Honestly? Not much. Shits been south for a bit since those HUMINT assets were purged. Fuckin’ DIA, man. Anyways, we managed to squeeze some names and places out of him. You know how it is though, we can talk about it when you get here.”

“Sure thing. See ya, partner.” Donnelley smiled.

“Yup.” Smitty hung up, and Donnelley set his phone back on its station.

He looked at the time on his phone and sighed, about time he met up with Ava. He kept up a good pace as he walked back out towards the parking lot and got to his rental, a red Ford Focus ST that he picked out for shits and giggles, racing stripes and all. He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and waited for the familiar puff of fiery red hair to grace his eyes once more.

Ava glanced nervously around the dark parking lot, her phone in hand just in case she needed to make an emergency call. She didn’t particularly like walking out alone at night, even if the area was as closely monitored as the parking lot of Langley. While it was dark, it was mostly empty, so it was easy to watch her surroundings and even easier to find Donnelley.

The strong smell of cigarette smoke drifting on the wind also helped lead her in his direction. She hurried her walking a little when she saw him standing beside a red Ford Focus.

“Hey,” She greeted with a relieved smile and a wave as she approached. She nodded her head to the car, brushing one of the curls that had escaped her tightly braided bun away from her face. “Fine taste in cars I see.”

Donnelley smirked, his cigarette still smoldering from the end between his lips as he rapped his knuckles on the door of his Focus, “The finest.” He blew out a puff of smoke, “Where we headed?”

“My office,” She said, pointing over her shoulder back to the building. “When you finish your cigarette.” She added, looking around the parking lot. “So, how has your time off been?” She asked, looking back up at him.

Donnelley rolled his eyes good-naturedly, “Just came back out.” He groaned, “My time off? Hasn’t been much of one, honestly. Anyway, come on, let’s go discuss important shit.”

He took a few quick puffs of his cigarette before flicking it away and pushing himself off of his car, siding up with Ava as they began the arduous journey back to her office in the Program Headquarters. “How ‘bout you?” He asked, “What you been keepin’ yourself busy with?”

“I took a few days to, um, heal.” She said, glancing away evasively and waving her hand at her right side. “Today was actually my first day back and it certainly made up for that time off.” She looked out of the corner of her eye at his leg. “How’s your leg feeling?”

“Better,” He chuckled and made a show of walking not-so-lame, “Don’t feel like a lame horse anymore, don’t have to take me out back and put me out my misery.”

“That’s good.” She said, her face brightening as they entered back inside the half lit hallways of the building and lead him down one. “I’ll try to make this quick so we don’t have to stay here until the sun rises.” She promised.

Donnelley nodded, smirking, “If there’s one thing I want to do with my life is spend more of it at work and not gettin’ paid.”

She just grinned at the comment and continued leading him down the half lit halls until they reached her office. She pushed open the door and flicked on the other half of the lights, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the new brightness.

“Okay!” She said, making her way over to her desk and sitting down in her chair. “So I did a general search for Jay on the regular web and only turned up your basic information. Arrest records, a possible residential address and some activity on Stormfront.” She said while turning her computer back on and waiting for it to boot up. “Then I ran a search through the Deep Web and found some activity from him on another forum where he linked an email.”

She looked up at Donnelley with an excited grin. “And I cracked it and found out that this is how he’s been communicating with his contacts. They’re all using this one email account to communicate with each other without sending or receiving anything.” She motioned to her screen as it turned on. “It’s all here.”

“Holy shit...” Donnelley looked up from his crinkling bag of chips he’d gotten from one of the vending machines, “That’s… pretty fuckin’ genius. Can’t track emails if they ain’t goin’ anywhere. Where’s the residence?”

“It’s in Benwood West Virginia.” Ava pulled open a desk drawer and took out a manilla folder. “Here you go.” She slid the folder over to thim. “Those are the coordinates as well as the inventory for a number of dead drop sites he has scattered around Blackriver. Lot of unmarked weapons and ordinances.” She said, turning back to her computer, but paused as she eyed his bag of chips hungrily. “May I have a few, please?”

“Hot damn, some slick new CommBloc weapons with no serial numbers?” He offered the opened bag to Ava at her request, a smirk on his lips, “You earned it, girl. ‘Sides, got two. We’re both hungry, I’ll take us to dinner. My treat.”

Her eyes lit up at the prospect of food as she took a few chips from the bag. “That’d be great, I could eat a horse.” She popped one in her mouth and crunched down on it before continuing, covering her mouth with her free hand. “I think I also got the coordinates for that shed you learned about. It seems like their main meeting place so I assume it’s the shed.”

She ate the rest of the chips and waved him over to her computer screen. “Here, I mapped out everything.” She said as she pulled up a map of Blackriver county with a number of different colored dots on it. “The red dots are the dead drop sites. The blues are areas of interest. The mines, the area Maria’s body was found, the O’Dhoule estate and the old mental hospital.” She pointed to the lone white dot on the map. “And that’s the hot spot for their meetups.”

Donnelley had a mischievous grin on his face, that old bearing of fangs as he nodded slow and offered his hand for a high-five, “Good. Damn. Work.” Donnelley chuckled, “We’ll smoke these boys out and chop ‘em up. Buddy of mine got info on that Russian that’s leadin’ ‘em out in the hills, Nikolai Gorochev.”

Ava beamed as she clapped her hand against his, eyes brightening at the mention of new information. “That’s great! Do you want me to run a search on him?” She felt her stomach growl and added, “Tomorrow, maybe?” She chuckled and waved her hand at her computer. “There are a couple more things I learned from the emails that might be helpful and then we can leave and get food.”

“Mm-mm, no. My guy already has Nikolai covered, but I’ll ask you if there’s somethin’ else I need on Nikolai.” Donnelley said, smiling, “You always think about givin’ yourself extra work?”

He stood and stretched, put his hands on his hips and gestured to the computer and the maps, “What else do you need to tell me about the email? After that, we can get the hell outta here and stuff our faces.”

Ava shrugged her slender shoulders awkwardly with a slight smile. “What can I say? I like my work.” The smile slipped from her face, replaced with a thoughtful frown as she took a moment to organize her thoughts.

“The National Park Service in Blackriver is definitely in the pocket of the Russians and Aryan Brotherhood. Interestingly enough there was no mention of the Sheriff. They talked about something to do with London quite a bit. They mention us a lot, they really don’t like us and they also mention someone named Renko. They seem to hate him as much as us so he could be a potential asset or ally? And they really want that man Carlisle dead.”

She leant back into her desk chair, gently nudging the ground with her foot to idly twist it back and forth. “The Cartels aren’t involved, the Russians seem to have a tight grip on the human trafficking in West Virginia and all along the East Coast. Likely because of the use of someone...or something they call ‘The Hound’ that they sicc on their enemies.” She met his eyes with a concerned crease between her brows. “Logically, I want to believe that’s just the name of some kind of hitman.”

Donnelley had a look about him then, the one that Holly always said made him look like he knew something, and awful guilty of it to boot. “Yeah, well,” Donnelley quivered with the memory of the smell, that night in New York… “You been with the Program long enough that logic sometimes ain’t a good place to reach for an answer.” Donnelley swallowed, “Tell you what.”

“I’ll tell my guy about Renko, you can search around for him if you’d like.” An angry growl from his stomach made him place a hand over it as if to calm it, “I know what I’d like right about now. A big ass steak. Rare.” He smiled over at Ava, “What ‘bout you, eh? My treat, anythin’. We’ll celebrate a big break in the case.”

Her brow furrowed in both surprise and worry noticing how shaken Donnelley appeared at the mention of ‘The Hound’. For someone as seasoned as he was, that was a concerning sign. “I won’t say no to a steak, I know a place that’s good.” She glanced at the map she had made. She wanted to ask for the coordinates for the attacks, likely by this ‘Hound’, that took place in the woods, but closed the program instead. It could wait another time.

She started shutting everything down and packing up her things in her laptop bag. “Do you want to follow me or I can drive us in my car?” She looked at him with a small grin. “It’s a Ford Focus too, though it doesn’t have any fancy stripes on it.”

“Nah, I’ll drive myself. I kinda like that thing, gonna get my money’s worth. That thing is fast as all hell, tell you what.” He chuckled, “What’s the place, I’ll meet y’there.”

“Roadside Steakhouse.” She answered, pulling the strap of her laptop bag over her chest. “Look for a place with a giant wooden grizzly bear statue outfront, can’t miss it.”

---

It was well past the usual dinner rush hour at the Roadside Steakhouse. While it was by no means crowded there were still a fair amount of people despite the late hour, either eating dinner at the tables or lingering at the bar off to the side with drinks in hand.

The interior was warm and welcoming as people stepped inside, a casual rustic dive bar appearance with a few modern accents. The walls of warm red brick complimenting the hard wood floors, with bare lightbulbs hanging low from the exposed rafters of the ceiling and casting a subdued yellow light throughout the room.

There was no hostess waiting at the entrance, instead just a wooden sign hanging by the door inviting customers to seat themselves. Ava stood up on the tips of her toes to survey the room before spying an open booth by the bar. “There’s a seat.” She said to Donnelley, nodding her head in the direction before making her way towards it.

Donnelley took his seat opposite Ava, eyes instinctually scanning the crowds and searching for exits, drafting up contingencies and escape plans. He shook his head with a smile as he sat down with Ava, an attentive but hurried waitress setting down menus and going off on her way with a smile. “Never took you for a steak kinda gal.” Donnelley smiled, “Question is now, how d’you take it? Well done?”

Ava wrinkled her straight, button nose at the mere suggestion. “It’s medium rare or nothing.” She answered with a small grin, not looking down at her menu as she folded her hands on top of it.

She squinted her eyes at him for a moment. “It’s taking me longer than it should to get used to seeing you with red hair instead of black.” She admitted.

“Yeah,” he began, running his fingers through his shorter hair, “It’s taken a bit of getting used to it.”

“Acceptable answer, by the way, gotta have some red and blood in it. Reminds you you’re eatin’ somethin’ used to be livin’.” He frowned appreciatively, nodding, “Knew I liked you. You born here in Virginia?”

“No, I just moved here for work two years back.” She answered, very aware of the possibility of people eavesdropping. She frowned and unfolded her hands to lightly pat her fingers against the table. “Technically I was probably born in West Virginia, but when I was two I was adopted by my mom and dad in Rhode Island so I grew up there.”

She gave him a curious look. “You sound like you’re from...Texas? Is that right?”

“And proud,” He sat back with a self-assured smile and his arms crossed, nodding, “Yeah, I was born in Dallard County, lil’ bit south of Dalhart. Moved to Seattle for a bit and, uh, I’ve taken every chance at a business trip my company offers for the past near-decade.”

“What can I get y’all to drink!” The waitress asked with a smile upon her return.

“I’ll have one of these, uh, Hardywood Parks.” He gave a charming smirk to the blonde, wide-hipped waitress.

“Oh, that’s a local favorite. How ‘bout you, sweetness?” She turned to Ava.

Ava gave her a polite smile. “Can I have a Shirley Temple please?” She asked.

“Of course, dear! I’ll be right back you two.” Her eyes lingered on Donnelley and her smile twitched up a notch before she turned and left. Goddamn, he loved young waitresses looking for tips.

“So, you n’ Laine get along well on your lil’ trip home?” He asked, “Dave’s a good guy, ain’t like his kin at all.”

“We did.” Ava smiled, thinking back to her drive with the FBI psychologist. “We stopped at the deceptively named Waffle House along the way.” She rolled her eyes. “Just four types of waffles and they didn’t even taste that good. I’m still miffed about it.” She said with a mock frown on her face. “Laine thought it was funny though when I called it a House of Lies. Which it is.”

The mention of Dave made a warm smile split across her face. “Dave is a good man, I hope he’s doing alright. Next time I see him hopefully he’s not so bruised up, the poor guy.” She waved her hand slightly toward him. “So I take that to mean he caught a ride with you instead of the GreyHound?”

Donnelley chuckled, nodding and smiling at reminiscing with the man. He’d grown to like him the past few days and he found himself excited thinking about seeing him again, “Yep. Gas, grass, or ass,” he counted the options on his fingers, then shrugged, “I settled for some of his beers. He lives in a pretty nice place.”

His smile turned something mischievous as he teased in a sly little tone, “That was a pretty wistful smile when I brought up Dave.”

Ava blinked and gave him a genuinely confused look. “How do you mean?” She asked, reaching up to touch one of her freckle covered cheeks.

“I-...” his joking tone dropped as he shrugged, “Ah, never mind. You two get along well, I’m glad. Team needs to be able to bond.”

Their drinks clacked down on their tablecloth and Donnelley smiled up at the waitress, “Thank ya kindly, Miss.”

He watched her go, quite intently, and turned back to Ava, “She’s cool though, ain’t she?” He said, “Laine.”

He caught himself smiling mighty wistful himself into his beer before he caught himself, “Good agent all around. Y’all’re good at what y’all do.”

Ava smiled at that, picking one of the cherries out of her drink. “Thanks, I think I’m getting the hang of things now.” She said, plucking the candied cherry off the stem and popping it in her mouth. “Laine and I had a talk about the nature of the job during our drive so I think that helped too.” She picked out the other cherry and offered it to him. “Want one?”

“Thank you,” He nodded, taking the cherry and plopping it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, “So, how’d you find work,” Donnelley cleared his throat, “With the company? You’re pretty darn young for this, usually it’s dudes in their thirties.”

“Well,” She frowned, idly stirring her straw in her drink to mix in the grenadine a little better. “I was 18 and fresh out of college when Booz-Allen approached me with a job. They basically offered me a lot of money to do what I loved so I accepted. I worked in their offices for a few years then got hired out on a contract for our, uh, parent company.” She shrugged, hoping it was clear she meant the CIA and very studiously stared at her drink as she continued, “Then two years ago I was recruited following an...incident.” She picked up her glass and drank a good bit of it.

“Yeah,” Donnelley frowned and looked off to the side, “Those darn incidents. We all got ‘em. Well, we’ll take care of this here incident in no damn time at all. Have a big ol’ party ‘bout it and be on our merry way.” Until next incident, he thought, a bit bitterly, but he smiled through it, “Any ideas? Group vacation to the Caribbean?”

She grinned at the suggestion, the joke helping to chase away the tightening in her chest from thinking back to that day. “We’re both Gingers and Laine is the most goth woman I’ve ever met, why would you want to go to our version of Hell?” She asked him with a faux disappointed shaking of her head. “I’d be as red as my hair the moment I set foot off the plane.”

She took another sip of her drink, the mirth slowly draining from her face. “Foster mentioned to me that you and Laine had incidents. Up until then I had no idea anyone else had something like that happen to them.” She glanced down as she fiddled with the cuff of her peach colored sweater. “It’s...really nice to know I wasn’t the only one.”

Donnelley frowned slightly, before his lips turned up in that old smile he’d give little Tilly when she was sad. “Hey,” He said, “You might be one of a kind in what you can do with that computer of yours. But in having incidents? You’ll never face it down alone long as we’re ‘round.”

“Promise.” He nodded, “And when I make a promise, be damn sure it’s kept.”

Ava looked back up at him, a small but warm smile finding its way back to her lips and her eyes brightening. “I believe you.” She said with a little nod of her own. “Thank you.” She thought back to his shaken expression back in her office and added, “The same goes for you too.”

She noticed their waitress coming back with order pad in hand and fell quiet so she didn't overhear them.

He smirked and nodded, “Got each other’s backs.”

“Alright!” The waitress sauntered up to their table and clicked her pen open, smiling between the two of them at the table, “Y’all hungry?”

---

>VIENNA, VIRGINIA
>AVALINE MOORE RESIDENCE
>0300...///

The restaurant was good, the night held important developments for the case, and his team in Iraq was making good progress, even without him there. All in all, it was a good night. He knew he’d probably have to get a motel room somewhere, preferably close by in case Ava’s probing into the Russians’ online presence brought a damper on the night.

He depressed the brakes as Ava turned into her driveway and he parked alongside the sidewalk in front of her house. He looked around, the stillness of the night adding that bit more of a quaintness to the neighborhood that Ava lived in. Definitely a step up from the place Donnelley lived in Washington. He looked at Ava as she knocked on his driver window and waved. He rolled it down, offering her a smile, “I had a good night.” He said, “Good work, again.”

Ava smiled, adjusting the strap of her laptop bag on her shoulder. “Thanks, I had a fun time too.” She said while pulling out her phone from a pouch in her bag. “Where are you going now?” She asked, taping at her phone and then a moment later the lights came on through the windows of her house. It was a single story craftsman style home with a small covered front porch, painted a deep thunder blue gray with white trims. A pair of flower boxes hung below the two front windows, one a bay window that overlooked the well kept lawn, surrounded by a perimeter of small flowering plants and one thin young tree.

He quirked a brow as he glanced at the lights coming on in her home without warning, “I, uh…” he looked back at her and regained his small smile, “I was gonna get a motel close by. Just a place to crash for the night. You gonna be alright?”

She frowned as she tucked her phone away and started digging out her house keys. “I think so, but if you want you can crash here.” She offered, pulling out her keychain with a jingle. She knitted her eyebrows together. “I dragged you out here in the middle of the night, the least I can do is offer you my couch. Uh, it pulls out, so it's a lot more comfortable than it sounds.” She shrugged with an awkward smile. “Up to you of course.”

He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, his brow quirking, “You got booze?”

Ava blinked before grinning and laughing. “I do, I have some beer and liquor stashed away. And I won't even charge you a minibar fee.” She said with a chuckle.

Donnelley nodded again, clucking his tongue, “You have won me over.” He produced a cigarette and tucked it in his lips, “I’ll finish this and get inside.”

Ava nodded, still smiling. “Alright.” She took a step and then stopped. “Oh, are you allergic to cat fur?” She asked with a mildly concerned frown.

“Nah, he’ll love me.” Donnelley grinned.

---

“What can I say except you’re welcome?” Donnelley hummed the rest of what he assumed were the lyrics to the one song he knew from the movie Ava said she was putting on. He only knew the infamous title lyrics as the song they’d use to torture Maui when THUNDER would get together before or after a mission.

He was busy mixing the perfect whiskey and Dr. Pepper just before he returned to Ava’s living room. She had gone to her room to change into pajamas or somesuch and he was left alone with nothing to do except look at pictures of Ava and her family, or with Thor, or with both. He smiled at the picturesque scenes of a happy family stilled in time by the camera. His eyes scrolled along the picture wall until they snagged on one. Again, that feeling of recognition took hold as he looked at a photo of a smiling teenage Ava.

He got the same feeling as if he had caught sight of an old friend in a crowd before they could see him looking. He figured the nice and approachable Ava had that effect on people and he chuckled. She had always looked like someone who would make a good friend, the wild red curls, freckles, and large doe eyes airing innocence to all the world to gaze on. It didn’t take a lot of figuring out to see why Dave had taken such a liking to her. He smiled, plopping himself down in the couch and waiting for Ava to come back from her room.

Ava came walking out of the hallway with a pillow and a knitted grey and white afghan in her arms. She had changed into a pair of blue plaid pajama pants and a large grey t shirt with a picture of a stylized and tired looking owl above the words ‘not a morning person’ on the front.

“Here you go.” She said setting down the bedding on the back of the couch. She took two steps away before Thor jumped up on the bedding and promptly laid himself down on them. Ava rolled her eyes at the cat and shook her head, making her loose curls bounce around.

“You sure you want to watch Moana?” She asked Donnelley with a slightly self conscious frown as she sat down on the love seat. “We don't have to.”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t wanna,” he said, thoughts of annoying Maui next time he saw the huge Polynesian SEAL making him smirk mischievously, “Let’s do it.”

Ava gave him a curious look, but nodded. “Alright.” She pressed play on the remote and settled into her chair, pulling her legs up and tucking them under her. As the credits began to roll she looked back over to him. “I have to say, I didn’t peg you for a Disney kind of guy.” She said, pulling one of the throw pillows on the sofa to her lap.

“Yeah, what can I say,” Donnelley smirked over at Ava and took a long sip of his drink, “I’m full of surprises.”

She smiled back at him and settled further into her spot to watch the movie as the opening narration started.

Half way through the movie, Ava felt her eyes start to grow heavy. Occasionally they'd fall shut only for her to snap herself back awake with a jerk of her head. Towards the end of the film, she lost her fight with sleep and nodded off, her head resting against the cushion of the small couch.

“You think-“ Donnelley looked over to Ava and cut himself short when he saw Ava softly snoring on the couch. He took his moment to take her in and a fatherly smile crossed his lips as he watched her in the shifting light of the screen. He silently rose from his chair and grabbed up the blanket she’d gotten for him, carefully shaking it loose and draping it over her and gingerly removing her glasses before taking his seat again.

One last look in her direction and he smiled again. Ava was a good person. Perhaps one of the only ones he’d known in a long time. A touch of innocence set upon like a leaf in the wind of a world so steeped in quiet chaos and creeping darkness. He laid back and stretched, finishing his drink and continuing the movie until his eyes closed on their own.

---

>1012...///

Ava stirred and blinked open her eyes as the gentle sound of scraping pans and sizzling bacon reached her ears. Next came the scent of that bacon mingled with the familiar roast of coffee. It took her a moment to realize she was curled up on her loveseat in the den rather than in her bedroom. She frowned in groggy confusion as she registered the soft blanket on top of her and pushed herself up; peaking over the top of the couch to the kitchen.

Her glasses were MIA but even through her blurry vision she recognized the short red hair and the distinct build of Donnelley in her kitchen. Her mind quickly put the pieces of the puzzle together as it sluggishly remembered the events of last night. Or early morning rather.

She yawned and sat up fully, taking a moment to stretch her arms after being curled up on the small couch all night. Despite the cramped sleeping arrangements, she realized she had actually gotten a decent night's sleep. For the first time since Blackriver she didn't recall any bad dreams or waking up from tossing and turning.

She just slept. Peacefully.

Smiling with the realization she looked around until she found her glasses. Fixing them on her face she hauled herself up to her feet, fought another yawn and headed for the kitchen.

“Good morning.” She greeted with a bright if still slightly sleepy smile. “How did you sleep?”

“Mornin’.” Donnelley smiled at Ava, placing his hands contentedly on his hips and surveying the cooking breakfast items like a king and his kingdom. Doing this reminded him of all those times he’d wake before Holly and Tilly when he was on leave.

If it was the little things that you had to enjoy, then he was ecstatic. The hardness of his eyes had receded and there was some semblance of the father he used to be. “I made coffee.” He said, offering out a cat mug to Ava, “I slept fine. How ‘bout you?”

“I slept great.” She answered, eyes brightening as she accepted the mug shaped like a content orange tabby. She was surprised to notice a change in Donnelley's demeanor. The usual edge that she had started to become accustomed to seeing, the tension he carried himself with and readiness for things to go wrong at a moments notice, wasn't present.

He looked genuinely happy and relaxed, a warmth radiating from him she hadn't seen before. After seeing him so shaken the night before, clearly haunted by something she didn't yet know, it made her happy as well.

She smiled a little brighter before shuffling over to the fridge to get some creamer. “Thanks for making breakfast, you didn't have to though; you are the guest.” She opened the fridge and poked her head out from behind the door. “Unless this is some form of Texan hospitality I'm unaware of, then far be it from me to mess with tradition.” She said with a grin.

“Nah, I just felt like returnin’ the favor. Lettin’ me stay over and all.” Donnelley smiled at her before flipping the bacon and sliding an egg off of the pan to a plate to accompany the bacon already there, “Order up.”

He chuckled, “And it ain’t no trouble at all, really. I like doin’ this. Makes me feel, uh,” he let go a sheepish grin, “I don’t know, normal. I like pretendin’ for a bit.”

Ava shut the refrigerator door with the creamer in hand, mulling over his words with a thoughtful expression. Her mind went to last night, how he mentioned working away from home for a full decade. Had he been working for the Program that entire time? Even regular CIA work was gruesome, especially since Donnelley seemed like he’d always been a man on the frontlines. Spending all that time in darkness and blood, it had to take a toll on a person.

She had only been on one UMBRA mission and she already treasured that little return to normalcy she had during her short break. No wonder Donnelley seemed like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Realizing it had been a few seconds of her staring into space, she offered him another smile. “Everyone deserves a break and you’re welcome to use my kitchen anytime.” She said, adding the creamer to her coffee while opening a drawer to grab a couple of forks.

“And I’m not just saying that because I don’t like cooking.” She grinned, setting a fork on the waiting plate of food before taking it in hand and carrying it over to the breakfast nook.

“Well, if you didn’t, you’re in luck. I do.” He winked, tossing a morsel of bacon Thor’s way, his chirp punctuating his purring, “I think he likes me.”

Ava watched the large, fluffy cat brush up against Donnelley’s legs, hearing him purr even from the other end of the kitchen. “I think you’re right, can’t imagine why though.” She chuckled with a small grin as she sat down on the padded bench of the little dining nook, but waited for Donnelley to join her before eating.

She cradled the warm mug in her hands and took a sip of her coffee, glancing idly through the large bay windows that curved along the nook to her street outside. The sky was a pure blue with not a hint of clouds in sight, promising another warm summer day. A car drove sedately down her sleepy little street and while she watched it go by, she wasn’t struck with the sense of tension and worry she had grown accustomed to feeling the past few days. A good night's sleep really did wonders.

Peeling her bright blue eyes from the window, she looked back over to her guest. “So, how long are you going to be staying in Virginia?” She asked curiously.

“Just a bit longer,” Donnelley set down his plate and sat beside Ava, giving her a smile before forking some eggs into his mouth. He chewed a bit and swallowed, plucking a strip of bacon from his plate as Thor jumped onto his lap, meowing at him pleadingly, “Just curious?”

“Thor, bad kitty.” Ava frowned at the cat and waved at him to get him to jump down. “You have better manners than that, get down.” She nudged the cat and he reluctantly hopped down with a rumbling ‘mrow’ and settled for laying down by the table; staring up with his tail flicking back and forth.

She looked back up at Donnelley with a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that, he’s a brat sometimes.” She said with an awkward chuckle, picking up her fork. “And yeah, just wondering in case I find anything that’s important between now and when we meet back up in West Virginia.” She said before eating a little bit of her breakfast.

Recollection clicked behind her eyes as she quickly swallowed her food. “Oh! Or we have to go to Alaska!” She said, setting down her fork. “I asked my old Program supervising Agent to help with a deep dive in the Program Database for anything on the Sleeper and he said he’d put in a request for us to visit someplace called the BLACKBOX.” She frowned up at him curiously. “Do you know what that is?”

“That’s…” Donnelley frowned, quirking an eyebrow, “That’s a pretty damn tight place. And a bit out of our Area of Operations. I’m good to go, some nice landscapes, at least.”

He shook his head, “Never been, only heard about it once or twice.”

“Funny, that’s what I said, at least we’ll be going somewhere pretty.” She said with a small smile. “I hope the request is accepted, we can learn more about what we’re up against.” She looked down at her food and nudged her eggs with her fork.

“Hey, so, can I get your thoughts on something?” She asked slowly, glancing back up at him.

“Yeah.” He smiled, “What’s up?”

“Its small.” She frowned. “Just, when I first heard the term ‘the Sleeper’ I felt...weird. Like, I had heard it before or like I should know it. The best I can describe it is like Deja Vu, but...it didn’t feel right.” She rolled her slender shoulders in a small, awkward shrug. “I don’t know, it could be nothing, but you know how strange things can be.” She met his eyes with crease in her brow. “Have you heard about anything like that before? Or felt that way yourself?”

His brows furrowed and he rested the prongs of his fork gently on the plate, chewing thoughtfully before he swallowed and shook his head. “Not like that,” he said, releasing some of the tension in his brows as he looked back to her, “I get memories, sometimes. I can’t sleep some nights, but I never got any sorta deja vu at anything I don’t remember.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you, but I can say that you’re doin’ pretty alright.” He smiled, hoping to take some of the weight of the conversation off. He nodded outside, pointing with his fork, smiling, “‘Nother sunrise out there.”

Ava glanced outside with his pointing and her lips curled up into her own small smile. “Yeah,” She agreed, looking back to him. “Thanks anyway.” She picked up her coffee while saying, “It’s probably nothing. Just my brain processing information weird, like Laine said.”

She took a sip and set the mug down, quickly changing the topic, “So, did you like the movie?” She smiled sheepishly as she scooped up another forkful of egg, using a piece of bacon to keep the eggs from spilling off. “I’m sorry about falling asleep and swiping your blanket.”

He chuckled, shrugging, “Yeah, well, I let you have it.” He smiled, “Movie was alright, last thing I remember, that big dude, Maui? They were fightin’ some huge singin’ crab. Songs are damn catchy, tell you what.”

Ava smiled at his description as she chewed. “They really are.” She said after swallowing. “Shame you don’t remember the end fight with Teka, it’s great. We could finish it sometime, if you want?” She asked, eyes bright and eager though they held a hint of questioning uncertainty.

He met Ava’s trepid expression with a warm smile, “Anytime.”

Delta Green: Whispers in the Darkness

>VIENNA, VIRGINIA
>AVALINE MOORE, RESIDENCE
>2019.8.JULY
>1740...///

The sun was dipping low toward the horizon when Ava walked down her front steps, her eyes on the bright colorful garden of her neighbor and friend. She had parted ways with Laine almost an hour ago, the FBI psychologist having wished her well before driving off into the sunset.

The next hour Ava had packed her drones back in the garage, started a load of much needed laundry and took twenty minutes to just sit on her couch. She watched an episode of Bob’s Burgers and just took a moment of quiet to catch her breath and soak in the comfort of being home again. Home and safe, where Blackriver was far away from her and so were the events of the shooting.

She wished she could stay there a bit longer, just turn off her brain and enjoy one of her favorite shows. In fact she fully intended to call in to Headquarters and tell them she would be taking a few personal days, but not at this moment. Not tonight. It could wait until tomorrow.

However, there was one more piece of reality she needed to face before she could settle in to her time off.

She wrung her hands together as she walked up the pathway to Mrs. Grier’s front porch; her mind racing. What did she tell her? What would she ask? Would she be upset with her if she didn’t tell her?

Those questions raced round and round her head, like a train caught on a set of circular tracks. She could feel sweat gathering on the back of her neck as she walked up one step and then two until she was at the front door. A warm breeze blew across the garden, carrying the scent of summer blooming flowers. It normally brought her comfort with its familiarity, but at that moment, the smell of the flowers was almost nauseating in their sweetness.

Daisy was already barking on the other side, the pugs breathy, snorting yips giving away her presence before she even had a chance to knock. She shut her eyes, took in a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

A few moments later a voice on the other side could be heard, "Daisy, get back, dear."

"Who is it?" Mrs Grier asked through the door. "Oh, sorry...let me..."

Her voice went in and out, the sound of latches unlocking and a chain before the door opened. Mrs Grier was dressed neatly in white slacks and loafers, the neat mint green blouse accented with her elegant gold jewelry. Her white hair was swept back in a neat French twist, held by an art nouveau style dragonfly comb.

"Ava!" She smiled brightly, looking the younger woman over before stepping back, "Come in, please. I wish I had known you were coming home tonight or I would have held dinner. Come inside, have you eaten?"

The elderly woman stepped aside, gently nudging Daisy out of the way, the fat pug wheezing and wagging her curly tail.

Ava returned the older woman’s smile and tried not to show her how tired she felt. “I’m sorry, it slipped my mind to call you. I came by to come get,” As she was speaking there came the rapid padding of feet and then Thor was running out of a hallway toward her. “Hey Thor!” She greeted with a smile, bracing a hand against a nearby wall as the cat ran himself into her shins and started rubbing against her legs; purring like a motorcycle.

She stooped down to start petting him. “Hi, did you miss me? You’re not mad at me for leaving?” She cooed to the cat, scratching his ears and then stroking his back. “Hmm, how many table scraps have you been eating?” She asked in a mock serious voice while looking up at her friend.

Daisy yipped and waddled over to participate in the scritches, attempting to butt in but the plume of Thor's tail whipped in her squished face. Mrs Grier used her foot to gently push the pug away and allow the big cat his reunion.

She held her hands up, her wedding set still in place on her left hand even after being widowed for years. "He might have persuaded me to part with a few bits of salmon and chicken. I hope you don't mind too much."

“I don’t mind.” Ava assured her, standing up with a wince as it tugged on her sensitive side. “You’re supposed to be spoiled when you have a sleepover.” She looked back up at Mrs Grier and smiled a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck. “I hope you don’t mind watching him again in two weeks? I’ll have to leave again for an...unknown amount of time.”

Mrs Grier looked her over, her fine brows drawing together with concern, "Of course I don't mind, but an unknown amount of time? They're keeping you busy. Have you eaten, come inside I have plenty of leftovers. I made lasagna last night, spinach and ricotta. I always make too much, even when I have guests."

She waved Ava along, gently herding her towards the dining room.

“That’d be great, thank you.” Ava said honestly, relief evident in her voice as she followed her to the dining room. “I’m way too tired to cook and I’ve only had coffee and subpar waffles for food.” She carefully walked around Thor as the cat stuck close to her legs, meowing up at her and purring. “You had guests over?” She asked, genuinely curious and to get the topic off her work. “Did you have a dinner party?”

Mrs Grier put the lasagna to heat up and returned with two glasses of ice tea, setting one in front of Ava. "Oh no party just a friend from the Gardening Club. Jeremy helped me by turning the soil over in the vegetable garden for the autumn crop. So I repaid his kindness with lasagna!"

She chuckled, setting out lemon slices and "He ate a good portion and took a serving home and I still have more left."

“Oh!” Ava’s eyes widened and she slapped her hands lightly on the table as she was sitting down. “I forgot! I bought you seeds!” She said, frowning over her shoulder at the door. “I’ll drop them by tomorrow, I got you your favorites.” She said, looking back to Mrs. Grier with a smile, picking up her ice tea and taking a drink.

"How nice, thank you," Mrs Grier smiled then turned toward the kitchen when the microwave pinged. "When do you think you'll bring them by, before work or after?"

She placed a plate of a large square of lasagna and fork before Ava and sat down to sip the sweet iced tea. "Or are they at least giving you a day off to recover from traveling?"

“I’m thinking of taking a few days off.” Ava said, picking up her fork and cutting into the lasagna with the side of it. “They sprung this assignment on me, I’d like to take a few days to catch my breath and get...reorganized.”

She looked down as she took her first bite, smiling at Thor as he brushed up against her legs. “Wow, I was wrong, you’re being clingy instead of distant.” She chuckled, reaching down to give his ears a few scratches, trying to ignore the ache it sent up her side to do so.

She sat up straight with a wince, then tried to cover it with a smile. “So, did I miss anything exciting while I was gone? Daisy chase down anymore birds?”

"Time off seems like something you could use," Mrs Grier agreed. She sipped her tea, her sharp eyes behind her bifocals watching Ava. "Did you hurt yourself in that time? You seem tender on that side, if you don't mind me asking."

“Oh,” Ava frowned self consciously and touched her injury, a battle waging inside her mind about whether or not to tell Mrs. Grier she had been shot. On the one hand she didn’t want to lie, but on the other hand, she didn’t know how to handle the follow up questions either.

Realizing that the silence was stretching on for too long, she bit her lip and decided to just rip off the metaphorical bandaid. She took in a deep breath and looked her friend in the eyes. “If I tell you, you can’t freak out okay?”

Mrs Grier clasped her slim fingers and peered across at Ava, smiling gently, "You'd be surprised, I don't freak out easily. What happened?"

Ava paused for a moment longer than said, slowly, “I...was shot.” She held up her hands. “I’m okay though! I didn’t even need surgery!”

The elderly woman raised her fine arched brows in shock, "Shot? Where on Earth are they sending you that would would get shot? You're an analyst for heaven's sake."

She caught herself and sighed, "My apologies, I know you probably can't tell me, I understand. But goodness, that's quite the experience. How are you doing now, after that?"

Ava bit her lip again. “What I can tell you is, I’m assisting an ongoing investigation as a cyber crime consultant.” She said, inwardly happy with herself for coming up with that line. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie and it basically was what she was doing.

At the question about how she was doing, she looked down, setting down the fork and wrapping her arms around herself. “And, I don’t know. It was...pretty scary at the time.” She said, blinking her eyes as she felt them start to sting and her throat tighten up.

"Oh my, of course it's frightening," Mrs Grier said, standing up to scoot over to Ava and put a gentle hand on her shoulder, lightly rubbing her back as she had her own children and grandchildren to comfort them when they were in distress, "You poor dear, how could anyone want to shoot you. Did they catch them?"

Ava sniffed and leant against her. “Yeah.” Again it was technically the truth, she at least knew of one shooter that had been caught and was now dead. She imagined that there were quite a few more bodies surrounding that cabin now. But there were others that probably survived and were back in Blackriver looking for them, waiting for them.

She felt herself start to shake and she turned her head to rest it against Mrs Grier’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She said, her voice breaking as she sucked in a deep breath. “I-I think it’s starting to hit me.”

Mrs Grier silently rubbed her back in circles under the wild red curls, a soothing motion that used to put her babies to sleep. "Shh, you don't ever need to be sorry, Ava. You go on and let it out, there's no shame in crying especially over getting shot. It's a terrible violation by violence, no matter if you needed surgery or not. You have every right to be upset so you let it out. It's what strong women do, we let it out. We cry and we grieve and we keep moving forward."

Ava heeded her advice and let the floodgates open.

---

>2019.9.JULY
>0846...///

The next morning saw Ava rise after a fitful night of sleep. Laine had been right about the trauma taking its time to hit her. Crying it out with Mrs. Grier had felt good, but it also felt like it had only been the beginning. Now it felt like she was dealing with the full force of not just the shooting but everything that had happened in Blackriver.

Her anxiety medication helped, but only to a certain extent she was realizing. It helped with the shaking and the cold sweats and she wasn't completely panic stricken when she was in the front part of her house. However there was still that fear lingering at the back of her mind that the front walls and windows would explode with gunfire at any moment.

The one good thing to come out of her shaken state was it hardened her resolve to take a few days to steady herself and work through her emotions. Even though work was her normal escape from her anxiety, and she certainly had a lot of it to do, she didn't know how productive she would be like she was.

So she called Headquarters, reported in and informed them she needed a few days to recover from an injury received in the field.

Once that was done, Ava tried to return to some sense of normalcy.

Thor purred happily in her lap as she absently stroked his back, her elbow on the arm of the overly stuffed and comfortable sitting chair in her living room and her head resting against her fist.

There was a cup of breakfast tea next to her, she was afraid coffee would make her more jittery, but it had long gone cold inside of the owl shaped mug.

Her heavy blue eyes were fixed on the television, but she was only half tuned in to what was happening on the screen. Normally this helped her when she was feeling overwhelmed. Sitting in her favorite chair, a warm drink in hand and the comforting weight of another living creature on her lap.

Now though, after sitting like she was for a couple hours, all she could think about was how quiet her home was behind her. She felt off...strangely disembodied. This felt like it should have been comforting and normal, but she wasn't feeling it.

Ava sighed and took off her glasses, tilting her head up and rubbing her eyes. Why couldn't she relax?

She moved her hand from her eyes and looked at the window that faced the side of Mrs Grier’s house. She could go back and visit her friend, but she wanted to give Mrs Grier time to breathe after last night. It had been a lot of raw emotions. Maybe in a few more hours, she at least wanted to be a little better held together.

She put her glasses back on and found herself looking at a picture on the wall. Among the framed paintings and prints were family photos. One such photo was her favorite; a picture of her when she was young and her maternal grandparents at the Boston zoo. She smiled at the picture, chuckling as she recalled the trip to the zoo having been her reward for acing her Freshman finals. Quite the trip idea for getting good college grades.

She stared at the picture for a moment longer, warmth filling her chest and chasing away the strange disconnect she had been feeling.

Without giving it much thought, she pulled out her phone and called her grandparents.

The phone rang twice before it was answered with a loud clatter. A voice thick with Jersey irritation came across the line, shouting to somebody on the other end of the phone.

“Not even nine, already they’re calling! The telemarketers! No, I don’t know who it is, I just got to the phone!”There was a rustle and then Mick Cavallo’s voice returned. “Who’s this?”

Ava grinned, her nose wrinkling as she tried to keep from laughing at the familiar sound of her grandfather preparing to give someone a verbal ass chewing. “I’m sorry Gramps, I didn’t realize I was calling before you had your first cup of coffee.” She said in a light voice, sinking into her chair and picking up her mug.

“Ruby!” There was a rustle and some brief swearing as seated himself. “How are you, girl? It’s been a while.”

“Oh, you know, I’m hanging in there.” She answered cryptically with a frown as she stared down at her mug of cold tea. “Work is getting a little crazy though.” She waved Thor off her lap, making him jump down with a protesting rumble of a meow before she stood with her mug in hand.

“Keepin’ ya busy, huh?”Something clattered in the background and his voice grew muffled. “I know, I’ll tell her, I heard you! Your gramma says hi, Ruby.”

She smiled. “Tell her I said hi and I love her.” She said, walking across her wood floors to the kitchen with Thor meowing after her. “Thor says hi too.” She put her mug in the microwave and set it to reheat. “I really miss you both.” Now more than ever.

She leaned back against the counter of the kitchen island. “How are you guys doing? Are you being nice to daddy?”

“And we miss you,” Mick said. “Of course I’m bein’ nice to him. When he deserves it. We’re doing just fine out here. Your gramma won’t quit badgering me, but I guess that’s life. Ow!.”

Ava grinned, picturing her grandmother reaching over from wherever she was to swat at her grandfather. Slowly the smile faded as she took in a breath. “Gramps, can I...talk to you about something?”

His voice grew a little more serious. “You know you can. What’s wrong?”

“I’m just,” She sniffed, feeling tears well up in her eyes as her voice wavered slightly. “I’m having a really hard time with my anxiety right now.” It was technically the truth, that was her main problem. They didn’t need to know the cause of it though. “I can’t get myself to relax, my normal comfort routine isn’t working and I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you been doing your breathing? Have you had any full-on panic attacks, or just anxiety for right now?”

“Just anxiety.” She answered, glancing over her shoulder at the front door as she heard a car drive by, playing music loudly. “I didn’t think to do my breathing.” She admitted, wrapping an arm around herself as she watched her yard through the front windows of her breakfast nook; her eyes on the street. “I’ve had...other things on my mind.”

“Well give it a try.” Her grandfather chuckled. “Gotta remember the basics, Ruby. You wanna talk about whatever it is that’s been bothering you?”

Ava took in a deep breath and nearly jumped when the microwave beeped. “I wish I could,” She frowned as she opened the microwave and pulled out her mug of reheated tea. “But it’s work related so I can’t really go into detail.” She removed her phone from her ear and turned on the speaker while she sat on a stool with her mug in hand.

“All I can say is I’m assisting an investigation as a cyber crime consultant and it’s...it’s rough. It’s not the kind of work I’m used to.” She frowned down at the black tea in her mug and gently blew on it, watching the graceful curls of steam scatter and vanish into the air.

“Sounds stressful,” Mick said. “Not sleeping well, I take it?”

“I’m...getting a few hours.” Ava answered before taking a slow sip of her tea. “The nightmares aren’t bad.” Not yet anyway. She slumped against the counter slightly and rubbed her hand over her freckled face. “Maybe I should just binge watch Batman again.” She muttered, looking over to her television that was still playing in the background. “That always helped before.”

“Or maybe you should focus on getting some sleep.” Mick chuckled, his rough voice as gentle with Ava as it ever was. “Melatonin, that’s the ticket. It’s what the quacks at the VA gave me, and it works.”

She smiled, folding her arms on the counter and resting her chin on them. “Are you saying Bruce Wayne punching people in the face isn’t soothing fodder to fall asleep too?” She asked with a soft chuckle, looking at her mug filled with caffeinated tea. “I think I still have that bedtime tea Mrs. Grier gave me, it has melatonin in it.” She sat herself up and picked up her mug, stepping a few feet away to dump it out in the sink. “I guess I can try, take a little nap and see if that helps after doing my breathing exercises.”

“See, now you’ve got a plan.” Her grandfather sighed. “You know we love you, Ruby. Our little Bond agent. You need to take care of yourself.”

The mug was set down with great care as Ava stared down at the screen of her phone, lit up with the picture of her swarthy grey haired grandfather holding a pitcher of beer and smiling. “I know, I’m trying.” She answered, picking up her phone. “I love you too, both of you. I’ll call you again soon, let you know how I’m doing.”

“Alright, go get some sleep.” His voice grew muffled for a moment. “Your gramma says to go to bed.”

“Oh well now I have to do it.” She smiled, wrinkling up her nose slightly. “Bye Gramps,” She raised her voice, “Bye Grammy! I love you!”

“We love you too,” Mick said, his wife calling out in the background. “Goodbye, Ruby. Take care!”

With that the screen proclaimed the call had ended, lingering on her grandfather’s picture before fading to black. Ava tucked her phone away, taking a moment to sit and reflect on the conversation, dimly listening to the TV in the background.

She rubbed her thumb against the mug in her hand, the warmth from the microwave lingering within the pastel painted ceramic.

Hearing her grandfather’s voice again had brought on a wave of comfort and security. She could feel it help relax a little of the tension that had been steadily winding itself tighter and tighter in her body.

Seizing on the moment of calm she stood up and began to prepare herself that cup of melatonin tea. While the water was boiling she leant herself back against the counter, closed her eyes and began to breathe.

Delta Green: Whispers in the Darkness

>HIGHWAY I-64
>2019.8.JULY
>1400...///

As the hours passed the dull grey of concrete sidewalks and buildings eventually gave way to tall, bright green trees and picturesque views of the mountains as the car drove down the faded black asphalt of the highway.

Ava watched the countryside pass them by, admiring the beauty of the mostly unspoiled nature just 20 or so feet away. Though the admiration was tainted by the knowledge of what lurked among the towering trees and lowely undergrowth. An insidious black market operation skulking in the sleepy mountains. Or possibly something worse.

Ava glanced away from the window, picking up her slurpee from the cup holder and taking a long drink of the radioactive red drink that was cherry flavored. From the corner of her eye she looked over to Laine, driving their rental car for the first few hours and then Ava would take over. She felt a little nervous being in the car for hours on end, fearful of them lapsing into long awkward silences.

Well, when in doubt, talk about work.

“So,” She spoke up, setting her slurpee back in the cupholder. “What do you think of the case so far?”

Laine drove in silence, her thoughts to herself and she suppressed the urge to crank up the stereo in deference to Ava. She took a drink of her own slurpee, a blend of cherry and Coke.

"I think it's much bigger than I imagined when I first arrived in Blackriver," she replied, then hesitated. "It's actually the second time, I never thought...well I still don't know if there is a link between what I've seen on both my visits. Blackriver County is just full of weird shit."

It wasn't much of an answer so Laine continued, "I think we have a lot of information, bits and pieces that need sorting out."

“No kidding.” Ava agreed softly, her mind sifting through what information she did have and all the questions that need answering.

Shaking her head lightly to snap herself out of it she focused back on Laine with a curious frown. “What...happened on the first trip? If you want to talk about it.” She quickly added so Laine wouldn’t think she was being pushy. “If you don’t, I understand.”

Laine huffed a soft laugh, smiling slightly, "Are you curious? I find the best way to satisfy that is just to ask. I suppose it's alright to tell you, you're part of UMBRA now."

She cut her eyes to Ava then back to the road. "It was my trial, so to speak. To see if I could cut it with the Program. We were to clean out a retired agent's apartment, he'd passed away. But we found something."

Laine gestured with her head towards the back, indicating their luggage in the trunk. "That footlocker I've been lugging around. It belonged to the late Agent Clyde Baughman, we found he had a cabin up here in Blackriver. So we paid a visit."

Her hand gripped the wheel tightly and she reached for her slurpee, taking a long drink.

Ava furrowed her brows in confusion and concern as she listened to Laine, a chill starting to settle over her with each word she spoke. “What happened at the cabin?” She asked, her voice having gone a little quieter than her normal speaking volume.

Laine took a deep breath, then said, "In one of those books you'll see a story about a chief that grieved the loss of his wife so much he tried to bring her back. Well, Clyde grieved for his wife."

She reached for her Djarums instinctively, then said, "And he brought her back."

Laine lit the clove cigarette, pushing the button to roll down the window. "None of us knew, especially not a bunch of rookies. But even Donnelley didn't know, though...I should have heed his warning. I thought this Baughman had someone locked away. We heard a woman's voice, calling for him. From the septic tank. I was so damn sure it was a possible victim, because that's what I work with, you know?"

She shook her head, wincing slightly and drew deeply on the black cigarette, "It was dark in there and the smell...like wet rot and suddenly she was there, reaching out with corpse hands. Mrs Baughman... she was living but dead. I felt her strength, she grabbed me by the neck and tried to strangle me, she was strong but so cold, decomposing...then Donnelley and the rest of the team with me shot her. That was the only thing that made her release her grip, they killed her..."

Flicking her ashes out the window, she glanced at Ava, "But according to records she had died and been buried. So what was that in the septic tank?"

Laine shook her head, her voice slightly raspier, "Baughman must have found something, someway to do that to her. Maybe, I don't know. It's not scientifically possible yet...there she was."

She smoked harder, her cheeks hollowing as she took a sharp drag. "What do you think about that?"

Ava was staring at Laine with wide eyes as she told her tale, the chill that had creeped over her now settling on her fully like a blanket. She tore her eyes away as she brushed a loose curl of copper hair behind her ear, her expression troubled as she processed the information.

“I...I don’t know what to say.” She answered truthfully. “I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked since,” Her mind flashed to that short encounter two years ago that drastically changed the course of her life. “I’ve worked for the Program for a few years.” She finished, trying to cover up her pause.

She turned her head back to Laine, her eyes softening from fear and shock, to something more sympathetic. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. Are you okay?”

Laine nodded, then took a sip of her slurpee, "Then you've seen more than I have."

Laine took one last drag and snuffed out the cigarette, "Yeah I think so, it was like a few months back, but it did shake me up. Hell, I ran away and tore off my jacket and shirt because it had uh...well she came apart being shot so much at close range. Donnelley helped me though, he's...you know, he's experienced. Anyway, we had one person never come back after that and I don't blame her, it was tough. But I'm wondering how Baughman did it and if there is any connection to what is going on in Blackriver. Of all the places to buy a vacation cabin he picked the center of weird in the Appalachians. I don't think it was just a coincidence."

“I think you’re right.” Ava agreed with a frown, looking down at her hands for a moment. “So, you think that whatever he did is the same as that chief in the story?” She asked, lifting her head to look in the backseat for the book she mentioned.

Laine pressed her lips together tightly then sighed, "I don't know, I mean like the scientific research I've seen even experimental stuff still says it's impossible. Mrs Baughman was dead and buried according to the records. Did he exhume her or was she never dead but maybe sick and the funeral and death records a farce? Not quite out of the question considering Baughman was with the Program. I wish I'd got tissue samples but the body was burned along with the shed. I was too out of it to think clearly at the time."

She shook her head slightly, "I wanted the opinion of Agent Bhaat about the stories in those books, there are similarities that I can see to what's occurred in Blackriver but..."

Laine shrugged, "She didn't seem interested in reading them. I have friends in forensic anthropology and sociology fields, maybe they might be able to help me understand. But you know, it's risky asking too much from outside sources."

Ava glanced at her with a concerned crease between her eyebrows at the mention of Pari. “Maybe she was distracted by...everything?” She suggested with a small shrug. “Um, it’s not my field, but my mother is an anthropologist professor at Brown University so I know a little bit about the study.” She turned back to her searching and spotted a box of books.

She twisted her body, not taking off her seat belt as she got up on her knees on the seat and reached back with a grunt to pull the box closer before picking it up. “Which book is it?” She asked, turning back around and settling in her seat with the box in her lap.

Laine merely shook her head slightly and sniffed, "I guess so, it was certainly an eventful week."

"Impressive, an Ivy League mom. Well if you want to take a look I believe it was Backwoods Witchcraft of Appalachia, there is a section on local Native American legends and their religious and magic beliefs," she said.

Ava looked through the books until she found the one Laine spoke of, then set the box down between her feet. “Does the story go in to detail on how the Chief brought his wife back?” She asked Laine curiously, even as she flipped through the pages to the section she spoke about.

"Not really," Laine said, "At least not like a recipe for zombie making. It talked about ritual and sacrifice, bargaining but no details."

Ava pursed her lips together as she started reading. “Maybe he bargained with The Sleeper?” She muttered distractedly as her eyes flickered across the page.

Laine glanced at her, raising her brows, "Huh, maybe something like that. Dulane did say he made a promise. He promised something to the Sleeper, he was very adamant about that."

“Yeah, I was wondering about that,” She began, her face still locked toward the book. “Do you think if Dulane promised something to the Sleeper, he was expecting to get something from it for fulfilling that promise?” Ava asked with a frown.

"It's not too far fetched, it's the same geographic area and..." Laine paused then said, "That thing in the footlocker, it's some Native artifact. It looks old and strange, maybe Clyde used it. You know like a ceremony or prayer. Hey, you have your phone, got any signal? Maybe you can look up that story, see if there is anything else out there on the interwebs."

“Let me see.” She said while shutting the book and setting it in her lap. She picked up her phone from the center console and started tapping at the screen. “I hope I can find something that goes into more detail about the story.”

She didn’t take her eyes off the screen, but did turn her head slightly toward Laine. “You found an artifact?” She asked, her tone surprised.

"Yeah, I'm not sure exactly what it is, it was in the foot locker with some research papers and a knife and some other oddities," Laine said, "I pretty much forgot about it until now. Find anything?"

“I think I might have.” Ava said, her eyes flickering back and forth over the screen. “Huh, this is interesting.” She muttered, her finger moving gently over the screen as she read through something. “It doesn’t look like the story has gone through much evolution in tellings like myths and legends tend to do. That’s unusual considering how old it is.”

"Yeah? No evolution of the legend to myth? It's been awhile since I had any cultural anthropology classes but do you think it might mean that it's more of a telling of an incident rather than like a metaphorical tale?" Laine asked, "But still, it's very... supernatural. I mean, I know what I've seen and heard, it's still hard to wrap my head around."

Ava shrugged her shoulders as she continued to read. “I’ve been with the Program for two years, I’m still having a hard time accepting it.” She admitted to her, her voice quiet.

She straightened in her seat. “Here it is, some fringe historians do believe that the story of the Grieving Chief is an actual oral historical tale that was used as a cautionary story of the dangers of bargaining with the Lord of the Woods.” She frowned as she continued to read. “They’re citing some Occult writer called John Dee, so I’m not sure how factual that might be.”

"John Dee the occultist? Never heard of him, doesn't sound like solid resume for historical accuracy but it's a start. Look him up, see what you find," Laine replied, "And Lord of the Woods, that's that picture I saw, the guy that looks the Horned God or Baphomet. Maybe a connection with the Sleeper, I can definitely follow up with Dulane about more details, if he saw it or what exactly he was bargaining for."

Ava picked up the book again and flipped through it until she found the picture she was talking about. “Oh, well, that’s creepy isn’t it?” She said with a grimace as she looked over the strange chimaera of goat and man. “Usually local...let’s go with “spirits” for this,” She said, motioning to the picture. “Have a tendency to have more than one name or title, so it’s possible?”

She shut the book and returned to her phone, tapping away at the screen with her thumbs. “So, what exactly is the plan with Dulane?” She asked Laine curiously as she searched. “You guys are just...going to take him to the mines?”

"The idea is returning him to the scene of the crime, that whole area is spooky. That's where Dave's team was killed, where Laurie and Gwen were killed and the men attacked by that... whatever it was. It was big and dangerous and it makes me nervous about going out there, I'm not afraid to admit. I hate hiking, fresh air is for dead people. But if it helps Dulane remember details about this Sleeper then, I guess I better bring my Docs."

Ava looked over at her, a worried tilt to her lips and the furrow of her brow. “It seems like a big risk.” She said, shifting her gaze back to her phone. “I wouldn’t go up there without a Sherman Tank as an escort.”

She scrolled through her phone and started to shake her head. “There isn’t much I’m finding on John Dee, just that he’s an Occult author that some fringe historians cite for his writings and his influence on witchcraft.” She frowned. “There’s also mention of his work translating something called the Al Azif?”

Laine drove in silence, the mines were too big a key to the mystery to stay away from. She might not have a Sherman Tank but she had Donnelley and she knew he wouldn't risk taking her or any of the team back up there unless he was planning on heavy protection.

Ava's voice broke into her thoughts and she glanced at her, "I never heard of that, Al Azif. Well, we have our homework don't we. Answer one question and get a dozen more. The nature of a mystery," Laine said, a hint of pleasure in her voice. "What are your plans for the break?"

She was surprised by the sudden change of topics, but it wasn’t an unwelcome one. “Oh, you know, the usual.” She said with a small shrug. “Probably be ignored by my cat for a day for leaving, maybe go for a jog with my neighbor and I’ll be moving offices since I was transferred from Logistics to Operations. Oh and hunting down Jay’s online trail.”

She put her phone down and picked up her slurpee, frowning as she realized it had mostly melted. “That’s a shame.” She muttered, but took a sip anyway. “What about you?”

"Work," Laine replied, "I am going to teach a course this fall for the Academy, so I'll be preparing for that and working any cases that I'm assigned. In the meantime, I'll be working on our case. There is a lot of information that needs to be written down and organized."

She paused and grinned slightly, "And maybe go out for drinks or something, unwind."

Laine drove in silence for a moment then asked, "So you have a cat? I love cats, I just don't have any pets because I'm always traveling."

“I do.” Ava said, perking up with a grin. “He’s...well he’s basically a miniature lion. I call him my guard cat because he’s 20 pounds of Viking feline breeding; his name is Thor.” She was tempted to whip out her phone again to show her pictures but decided against it since Laine was driving.

She leaned back in her seat and let out a mournful sigh. “I miss drinking. A margarita or a glass of wine sounds really good right about now.”

"He sounds great, I had a black cat in highschool named Bastet, because well...I had a little Wicca phase and Bastet was the Egyptian cat goddess or something. I thought it was very clever," Laine chuckled at herself and then took another drink of her slurpee, grimacing at the melted mix of flat Coke and fake cherry. "You don't drink anymore? Did you...are you like recovering?"

She cut a glance at Ava, who did not seem the type to be recovering from any addiction. She hardly looked old enough to drink at first glance, because of her size and girlish features.

“Oh, no! No, I’m sorry.” Ava flushed at the misunderstanding and gave her a smile that was part reassuring, part flustered. “I should have been more clear, I can’t really drink anymore because I take a type of anxiety medication that reacts poorly to alcohol.” She explained, brushing a hand through her mop of red curls. “Some people can balance the two, but because I’m a munchkin, it was just easier to stop drinking.”

Laine nodded, "Yeah, that'll do it. Medications can really do a number and pretty much alcohol will make anything like that worse."

After a beat, Laine grinned slightly and glanced at her, "Do you smoke weed?"

Ava looked over to her, startled by the question before she grinned and laughed at the idea. “Oh yes.” She said, her quiet voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m a big partaker of the Mary Jane.”

Laine chuckled at her reply, "Only Mary Jane shoes, I bet."

They crossed the state line and Laine casually flipped the middle finger at the sign proclaiming 'Now Leaving West Virginia, come on back soon, y'hear!'

"Oh we will be," she muttered then spoke up, "Let me know if you're hungry we can stop for lunch or just keep going straight to Langley, still got another two hours of driving."

Ava grinned slightly when she saw Laine flip off the West Virginia sign, giggling to herself at the unexpectedly crude gesture to an inanimate object. “We can stop for lunch and I can take over the driving so you can have a break the rest of the way. Especially since we’ll be driving to my house.”

"That's fair, I could use a break," Laine agreed as they continued down the highway. A billboard caught her eye, and she grinned, "Let's go to Waffle House, ever been?"

“I haven’t, though I’ve heard about them.” Ava said, straightening up in her seat with interest as she watched them pass the billboard. “Is it good?” She asked curiously.

"They're good enough but more importantly, it's essential to any road trip in the south," Laine replied, a grin cracking her serious expression.

A few miles later she pulled into the parking lot under the yellow block sign of the roadside diner, parking the rental Honda Accord a few spaces away from a pick up truck and the far side was lined with big rigs.

As they walked in heads turned, eyes looking over the pair as Laine lead Ava to a booth near the back. She sat down, facing the door and picked up a plastic cased menu.

A waitress trudged over, "'Mornin' ladies, getcha something to drink?"

"Coffee for me," Laine replied, then glanced at Ava, "Same?"

“Yes, please.” Ava said with a polite smile to the harried looking waitress. “With some creamer please.”

Once she left, Laine tapped the menu, "It's basic but the waffles are good. And the blueberry biscuits. Nothing like the nice cafes in the city but it'll do for road food."

She set it down and leaned forward, "You know what I really miss is good Mexican food. Fish tacos, chilaquiles... you know? I've yet to find anything in the DC area that's comparable to LA taquerias."

“I’ve never been to LA.” Ava said, her eyebrows ticking up with interest. “I’ve heard that the Mexican food was good there though.” She looked away, her eyes growing distant for a second with a small smile. “I miss clam cakes and home cooked Italian food.” She blinked her eyes as she focused back on Laine. “So, did you use to live in LA?” She asked her curiously, glancing down at the menu for a moment just to read it over.

"I was born there, in Van Nuys to be specific," Laine said, "You know, like the Valley. We moved a few times but always in the Los Angeles area. My mother insisted on it so my dad went along, I didn't mind. I like the beach, I just hate the sun. You sound very East coast, where are you from?"

“Uh,” Ava frowned as she rubbed the back of her neck with an awkward expression on her face. “Technically I’m actually from West Virginia, but I grew up in Rhode Island and then lived in Massachusetts for awhile for college.” She shook her head with a small smile. “Fun fact, Massachusetts and Rhode Islanders both take their clam chowder very seriously.”

Laine looked at her closely, then grinned slightly, "No shit? You don't look inbred, must not have been from the hills. Amazing your mother made it out and became an Ivy League professor. And where did you go, Harvard?"

“No, MIT.” Ava answered sheepishly, looking down at her menu even though she had already decided to get the waffles. “I’m actually adopted, but that’s a long story that’s probably not appropriate for this setting.” She fiddled with the plastic edges of the menu for a moment and then set it back down, folding her hands on top of it. “So, where did you go to school?” She asked as the waitress returned with their coffee and a small pouring dish for the creamer. “Thank you.” Ava nodded to the waitress.

"MIT, of course, the computer science," Laine nodded, then looked at her with mild surprise, "Nothing wrong with being adopted but we have plenty of time for long stories in the car, if you feel like telling it. "

The waitress took out her pad and clicked her pen, "Y'all ready to order?"

"I'll have an order of pecan waffles and a side of bacon," Laine replied.

“I’d like the chocolate chip waffles with some blueberry biscuits please.” Ava answered with a polite smile as she handed her the menu. “And extra whip cream.”

The waitress wrote it down then nodded, "Be a few minutes. Enjoy ya cawfee."

Once she was gone, Laine continued, "And I went to school at the University of California Irvine. From freshman to doctorate, good times. I have a lot of good memories and friends from those years. How was MIT, and being a woman in a male dominated field?"

“It was...interesting. I was able to earn a doctorate in Computer Science as well as a Mechanical Engineering degree.” Ava answered, picking up the little container of cream and pouring it into her coffee. “And I was ten years old when I went.” She explained with a small, awkward shrug. “So it was less about me being a woman and more me being a kid that stood out.” She suddenly gave her a small grin, a hint of mirth breaking through her obvious discomfort in discussing her college experience. “So, you can see why I didn’t experiment with weed in college.”

Laine blinked in surprise, tilting her head, "Wow, ten? That's amazing. Your folks won the lottery adopting you."

She smiled warmly, noting her discomfort, "Hey, you should be proud. But I'm sure it wasn't easy, just the social situation alone must have been very difficult."

Laine paused, considering for a moment how lonely and awkward it must have been to be so young among adults doing adult things and no one her age to bond with. She sipped her coffee and tried not to make a face, it was more bitter than she liked, almost burned. "So, did your parents move with you to live in Boston while you went to school?"

Ava shook her head, the curls and waves bouncing against her shoulders and around her head with the motion. “No, no, my dad is a surgeon and he couldn’t find a new position in Boston and I don’t think my mom wanted to give up her professorship with Brown University. So they rented a house for me to live in during the school year and my grandparents moved with me to look after me since they were retired.”

She took a sip of her coffee herself, grimaced at the taste and added a bit more cream to it. “I can see why they don’t call this place the coffee house.” She commented, then took a quick look around before leaning in closer in a mock conspiratorial whisper, “Though honestly, with only four options for waffles, I don’t know why this is called the Waffle House either.”

Laine snickered at her comment then shrugged, "Yeah it's trash, sorry. I have questionable taste sometimes. I do it for the experience."

"How was it living with your grandparents?" she asked, following up on her comment.

“It was great.” Ava answered with a genuinely happy smile, her eyes growing distant as she thought back on the days she lived with her grandparents. “They're a loving and fun pair, made sure I didn't work too hard and just looked out for me.” She said, her hand reaching up to touch the pendant of her necklace.

She shook her head and smiled sheepishly. “I'm sorry, I'm probably talking too much about myself.” Ava said with a nervous huff of a laugh. “You sound like you've had a lot of interesting experiences, any of them Waffle House related?” Ava asked her with a small grin.

Laine shook her head slightly, "No, you're fine. I did ask you about yourself. And I'm glad you had supportive grandparents that remembered you were still a child despite your intellect."

She sat for a moment, glancing out the window at the cloudless blue sky and the stretch of highway as eighteen wheelers rumbled by. Laine turned back to Ava, "I've had a few interesting experiences and maybe one or two involved a Waffle House. Being a criminal behavioral analyst I travel a lot, which is why I don't have a pet. I spent some time in a small Georgia town, assisting in an investigation of a string of murders in that area and the detective I liaised with always wanted to meet up at a nearby Waffle House. It was one of my first cases and the first time I went alone so...I guess it's sentimental rather than actually liking the food. Another time, when I was with my ex we did a road trip down to the Outer Banks and I made him stop at one. He hated it, it was funny and we...well, you know how it is we were still in that honeymoon phase of dating."

Laine raised her brows then shrugged, leaning back into the booth bench.

“Wow,” Ava said, her eyes sparking with interest behind her large circular glasses. “So, I guess we’re kind of honoring a tradition here, aren’t we?” She asked with a smile, picking up her coffee to take a sip. It was serviceable. “I don’t know much about dating, but I’ve heard of the honeymoon phase, I’m sorry it didn’t work out after it was over.”

She set her cup down, biting her lip for a moment before asking, hesitantly, “Did you catch the guy?” She asked, referring to her first case.

Laine turned her coffee mug then said, "You might say that, though both are viewed in rose tinted glasses. One was a murder investigation and the other a failed relationship. Well, Alex and I made it two years, and we're still friends, sort of. We worked together and he actually helped on this case. He did the autopsy of Maria Vasquez when we first found her."

The mention of the case Laine nodded, "Eventually, I wasn't there when they finally made an arrest. That happens often, we drop in and study the evidence and make a suspect profile. It's nice when I'm present for a resolution."

“I can only imagine.” Ava said, shaking her head in amazement. “I have no idea how you’re able to do what you do, looking the worse of humanity in the eyes and getting inside of their heads like that.”

Laine crossed her arms and leaned forward in the table, looking at Ava directly. "It's fascinating work but more importantly it's the way I know how to fight the darkness. I witness, I try to understand these people so we can stop them. It's ugly, but necessary to catching killers faster. And that's the ultimate goal, to stop the predators and I guess that's why...well I'm here, with the team."

She paused, her gaze shifting past Ava as she added, "Like Donnelley told me, it's the only war that matters. I'm starting to understand."

Ava stared at her for a few silent moments before she slowly began to nod. “I’m still adjusting to being on the frontlines.” She admitted with a small, if tired, smile.

Laine gave a half smile, looking back at Ava, "I bet. Getting capped your first time out. How are you feeling about that? Sometimes it takes a while for a trauma to settle in."

“I’m...not sure?” Ava answered honestly with an uncertain frown. “I feel okay, I guess, but I’ve been pretty occupied with helping the case so maybe it hasn’t really hit me yet?” She shrugged awkwardly. “Already being on anxiety medication also probably helps.”

She laughed, then covered her mouth, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh about your anxiety but yes, it's probably helpful. If you feel like you need to talk, you should. A counselor or psychiatrist, there is no shame in it. Though I suspect you'd have to be circumspect with the story you give them."

“I don’t think I can do that.” Ava said with a wince. “I’m the worst liar I know and panicking about lying and getting caught while talking about the trauma of being shot seems counterproductive.”

"You're right, well I'm not a therapist but I'm a psychologist," Laine said, glancing toward the kitchen then back at Ava. "So if you need to talk about anything, I'm here. That goes for everyone on the team."

“Thanks, I appreciate that.” Ava said, relief flickering across her features. “I’m obviously not a psychologist, but I’m a pretty good listener if you ever need to talk.” She offered with a smile. It only seemed like the decent thing to do, especially after she had witnessed Laine deal with the weight of the case first hand.

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you," Laine gave her a warm smile then glanced up as the waitress brought the plates, the huge waffles protruding over the sides and then placed the syrup on the table.

"Any more cawfee?"

"Not for me, thanks," Laine said, picking up her fork.

“I’m good too, thank you.” Ava nodded to the waitress, picking up one of the blueberry biscuits. She waited for the waitress to leave before turning her attention back to Laine. “If these waffles aren’t good, then this place is a House of Lies.”

Delta Green: Whispers in the Darkness

>0724
>FairFax County, Virginia
>Avaline Moore residence

A paw tapping her forehead roused Ava from her sleep and making her blearily squint open her eyes, staring up at the blurred image of her cat. He was perched on the small shelf above her bed that she built for him so he wouldn’t settle his 20 pounds of Norweigian muscle and fluff on her face while she slept. He let out a low, rumbling ‘mrow’ when he saw she was awake and she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes. “I’ll feed you Thor.” She croaked out, rolling over to the side of the bed and forcing herself to sit up.

She picked up her glasses from her bedside table and placed the large, circular black frames on her face. Next she picked up her phone and tapped at the screen to pull up an app that said ‘Alfred’. “Alfred,” She said into her phone with a yawn. “Is coffee ready?”

There was a soft chime and then a synthetic male voice replied from the speakers around her room, “Coffee is ready.”

“Good.” She stood up and shuffled on bare feet out of her bedroom, hearing her brown tabby and white cat jump onto the bed and then the floor to follow her. “Any activity on the outside security cameras?” She asked into her phone and then stuffed it into the giant pouch of the large cloud soft, rainbow pastel sweater she wore to bed.

“Activity log. Raccoon detected on west perimeter fence at 2:17 am. Deer detected in backyard at 4:38 am. Neighbor, Mrs. Grier, detected outside east perimeter fence at 6:21 am. End of activity log.”

“Probably taking her dog out to use the bathroom.” Ava noted to herself as she walked through her small, one story colonial style home. It was two bedrooms, two and a half baths and it still felt like more space than she needed. She had long turned the second bedroom into a home office and her garage into a hobby space where she tinkered away on a few side projects she had going on. Her car sat parked underneath an awning she had built on the side of the house.

She entered into the front area of the house which was an open floor plan that gave her a view from the kitchen of the den and the living room as well as the front door. It was meant to make the small house seems larger than it actually was, and while it was filled with tasteful, modern furniture of soft, neutral blues and greys; it felt empty at times to Ava.

Ava pulled her phone back out and spoke into it, “Alfred, how many messages do I have?”

“You have, 58 unread messages.” The flat voiced computer assistant replied back via speakers installed in the corners of her home.

“Read them please.” Ava requested and set the phone down on the counter and went about filling a bowl with cat food for Thor. She scratched the giant cat on the head as he chowed down, half listening to Alfred read out the messages that had accumulated while she slept. They were all work related, follow ups asking how the raw data sifting was going, confirmations that reports had been received and a few emails from coworkers in other departments asking for her assistance on something.

While her main job was to dig through raw data to look for nuggets of information that would be useful to the CIA or the Program; it wasn’t uncommon for her to help in other departments. There was a lot of cross department mingling that went on when it came to the tech aspect of intelligence gathering. Sometimes someone needed fresh eyes in order to help solve a problem with a particular code or why the design for a new stealth drone wasn’t working properly. She helped others and had received help from others on more than a few occasions.

“Subject: Stranger Things Viewing Party.” Alfred suddenly read out and that caught her attention as she was pouring her coffee. He continued to read the body and as the subject line stated, it was an invitation from a work acquaintance to come watch a few episodes of the new season of Stranger Things.

Ava frowned down at the black liquid staring back at her from inside a cute owl ceramic mug painted in twilight pastels, a gift from her neighbor, Mrs. Grier. Her immediate response to the invitation was to recoil, a spike of anxiety hitting her chest at the idea of attending a social gathering.

Who would be there? Would she know anyone besides the host? It was going to be a casual setting, they probably didn’t want to talk about work. Shit, what would she be able to talk to them about? Not the show, that’s for sure, she had never watched the previous seasons before. Would she have to watch them in order to attend?

She really didn’t want to, she was afraid it would reflect the reality of her work with The Program too closely. And she didn’t need a reminder of her own strange experiences…

A shiver went down her spine and her heart started racing faster. “Medicine.” She reminded herself and quickly left the kitchen to head for her bathroom back through her bedroom. Alfred continued reading out her emails and messages, but the mechanical voice was white noise as she opened her medicine cabinet and grabbed her bottle of Klonopin. She shook two pills out into her hand and took them, swallowing them down with the help of a glass of water she kept on her bathroom counter for just this reason.

Immediately she began to calm down, not because the pills worked that fast but the comfort in having taken them was enough to ease away the beginnings of a panic attack.

She braced her hands on the sink and took in deep, slow breaths as her heart began to settle down. After a few moments she shut the medicine cabinet and looked at her own reflection. Bright blue eyes beneath the large frames of her glasses stared back at her, small bags under them from countless nights where she didn’t take her sleep medication in order to keep working.

She ran her hand over one pale and freckle covered cheek, her skin warm to the touch and not clammy or sweaty. That was a good sign and helped her breathe easier.

If the idea of a party had this kind of affect on her, how would she react in the middle of one? Wouldn’t that make for fun office scuttle butt, Avaline Moore, the girl that went to MIT at 10, having a panic attack in the middle of a simple social gathering.

She looked up at her hair in the mirror and scrunched her small nose, choosing to focus her frustration on that ball of tangles than her inability to socialize. Her hair was a complete mess, the bright red curls and waves that fell down to the middle of her back were going to be a pain to brush; they always were.

“Subject: Report to Agent Stark’s Office today at 1000. No body of email.” Alfred suddenly said, bringing her back from her moment of reflection and back to reality. She frowned, Agent Gregory Stark was who she reported to whenever she did work for the Program. It wasn’t unusual for her to be called in to report on her days off, The Program didn’t believe in such mortal concepts, but it still made her stomach twist with dread. It was never a positive thing when The Program came knocking unexpectedly. Luckily, she just took her anxiety medicine.

It was only 7:30 in the morning, so she had time which meant she wouldn’t need to skip out on her breakfast with Mrs. Grier. There was that, at least she wouldn’t be missing out on sharing breakfast with her friend. She would need a bit of easy conversation to get her through her meeting with Gregory. She sighed and left her bathroom, heading to the kitchen to drink her coffee so she could get dressed.

///

Ava walked the dozen or so feet from her house to Mrs. Diane Grier’s front yard, Thor wearing a harness attached to a leash and walking alongside her. She smiled as she looked and admired her neighbor’s beautiful garden, lovingly tended to with blooming flowers, bright green grass and cute lawn ornaments.

Usually when she stopped by for breakfast, she was dressed casually, but since she intended to head straight to work after she had dressed appropriately for the office. A high waisted, soft blue pleated skirt was worn over a pair of white stockings with black, flat heeled mary janes on her feet. It was warm, even this early in the morning so she wore a light weighted, lilac colored blouse with the intention of throwing a sweater over it when she got to the office. She had brushed her hair and managed to battle the unruly locks into a proper and professional bun.

She reached the porch and chuckled hearing Mrs. Grier’s dog barking excitedly on the other side. She looked down at Thor and saw the cat unphased by the sounds as he was used to them and he knew he was bigger than the dog making the racket. Shaking her head, she reached out and rang the doorbell, then stepped back to wait for the door to open.

“Daisy!” the woman’s voice came from just behind the door, “That’s enough, I know you’re excited.”

She was talking as she opened the door, Mrs Grier then smiled down at the younger woman. She was in her early seventies, her once dark brown hair now entirely gray and she had given up on trying to mask it. The widow still had a trim figure and elegant features, a twinkle in her hazel eyes as she greeted Ava.

“Come in, dear,” she said, stepping back. She was dressed in casual white slacks and floral blouse, pearl earrings in place. Every inch a US Navy Captain’s wife still, even after a decade without her husband.

The fat wrinkled pug bounced up to Ava, curled tongue lolling out to greet her and Thor. Daisy snuffled and jumped up on her stumpy hind legs, the curled tail wiggling back and forth.

“Yes, yes, your friends are here,” Mrs Grier said, “Daisy get down, let them come inside.” She turned to go back to the kitchen, speaking over her shoulder “How are you this morning?”

The inside of the house was tidy, with pale lace curtains and antique furniture, the curio full of oddities collected from Navy ports around the world. Framed photos of family hung on the wall; wedding shots of Diane and Walter Grier, her in white and he in his uniform. Pictures of their children and grandchildren, now scattered across the US. Older photos of dead relatives and a few framed oil paintings depicting the sea.

The kitchen was bright, the soft morning sun pouring through the sliding glass door and the round table had a white lace linen tossed over it and fine china set. It was their tradition, Mrs Greir and Ava, grown up tea parties and elegant breakfasts on the weekends. There was a pot of tea and plate of english muffins toasted and buttered, just waiting for orange marmalade to be spread on them.

“I’m good.” Ava answered softly as she walked inside and shut the door behind her. She crouched down to unclip the leash from Thor’s harness, taking a moment to scratch Daisy on the head and smiling as the pug licked her fingers. “I won’t be able to stay long.” She said, standing up with a sheepish and apologetic look on her heart shaped face. “I have to go in to work in a few hours.”

“Oh?” Mrs Greir looked up from the frittata she removed from the oven, the smell of bacon and melted cheese wafting out of the kitchen. “Oh that’s too bad, but sit, we’ll have ourselves a nice breakfast at least. Did you want some juice or water or will the tea suffice?”

“Tea is good, thank you.” Ava smiled as she walked over and sat down at the table. She watched Daisy jump around Thor as the cat, bigger by a solid 8 pounds than the pug, sat on the floor, seemingly disinterested in the presence of the dog. She looked away and leaned over the table, sniffing the fresh cut orange daylilies sitting in a vase on the table.

Her breakfasts with Mrs. Greir were easily her favorite thing about her move to Fairfax County. Actually, just having a friend in Mrs. Greir was the best thing about turbulent time in her life 2 years ago. She didn’t know if she would have been able to survive that first week, the trauma of her nocturnal episode still fresh in her mind, without Mrs. Greir.

The southern matron had a lot of stories to tell, advice to give and didn’t mind that Ava preferred listening to talking. Sitting in the warm kitchen, with the smell of food in the air and another person around was comforting. It didn’t feel as empty as her home next door.

“So,” She said, clearing her throat, suddenly nervous as she thought about the unexpected email she received. “I got an invitation from a coworker to attend a viewing party for Stranger Things.”

Mrs Greir poured them both tea in dainty eggshell thin porcelain teacups, painted with delicate flowers and rimmed in gold. They had been her own grandmother’s china, witnesses to thousands of conversations over the generations. “Well, that sounds like fun. I saw some of that show, the first season. It was good, it reminded me of the Stephen King novels from the 80s.”

She watched Ava as she put out the tiny jar of sugar and then set the english muffin on her plate, an indication Ava should start eating. Mrs Greir moved back to the kitchen to cut portions of the frittata, a breakfast indulgence full of cheese and eggs, spinach and bacon. She brought these back out and set them on the table, “Are you going to go?”

The older woman smiled slightly, perching on her chair with her tea cup in hand as she observed her friend.

Ava hesitated, thinking over how to explain herself. It always took her awhile to properly articulate how she was feeling into words. “I...don’t think so.” She answered slowly, picking up her tea with dainty practice and taking a sip. “I’ve never seen the show and I’m not sure I would like it.” She said, placing the tea cup back down. “Also, I don’t think people would like talking about work at a social gathering.” She picked up her own english muffin and started putting it marmalade on the warm bread.

“Then don’t talk about work, dear,” Mrs Greir replied in her soft southern accent. “If you don’t like the show, just nod and smile, pick a few things you like and keep it simple. Trust me, that has gotten me through so many dinner parties.”

“...The only thing I know about it is that it has something to do with waffles.” She said, a helpless expression on her face.

Mrs Greir laughed gently, her eyes bright with humor, “Oh dear, you can do better than that. Ava, darling, you are an intelligent girl. What is it that you work on again? Your tools of the trade so to speak?”

“Software and technology in general.” She answered with a small shrug. “But, those are easy. It’s just numbers and putting bits of metal together.” She took a bite of her english muffin, embarrassed by her lack of social tact. “People aren’t as easy.” She continued after finishing her bite of muffin.

“No they aren’t, but you have tools,” Mrs Greir reminded her, “If you don’t know something, you research it, correct? You have technology at your fingertips, and you in particular should know this. Just Google the show, read the wiki page. You don’t really care about spoilers, so you’ll at least be up to date on the main storyline. Look, when I had to attend those dinner parties with the wives of admirals and senators and all sorts of people that I may or may not have liked and I had to be the gentile Navy officer’s wife and a polite, entertaining conversationalist. I always prepared myself, so I wouldn’t bore the wrong person or anger another. And you have so much more information at hand these days.”

Mrs Greir sat back, sipping her tea, looking at Ava. “You can do this, if you want. Does any part of you want to go?”

That’s exactly what Ava was afraid of. Upsetting one of her coworkers by accident and then it affecting any future work they had together. It was just a fact that eggheads needed the help of other eggheads from time to time and in their line of work, in order to get the best results, there needed to be cross department cooperation. Ava was fine interacting with people at work because there was always work to discuss and the complexity of their work never lead to any awkward lulls.

She didn’t have that kind of luxury in social gatherings about a television show.

Ava frowned down at her food, searching her emotions as she thought it over. “Emotionally? No.” She answered with a sigh. “But, logically, I know that it’s important to maintain healthy social bonds with your coworkers.” She looked up at Mrs. Greir, so calm and composed, conversation coming so easy to her. Ava wished she was like that. “And, I know that I should have friends my own age because that’s what’s healthy.”

“Is it?” she asked then tilted her head, “I find that whatever age a friend should be someone you trust and who supports you, not because it is what is expected. I suppose others might see our friendship as weird, filling in for a lost grandparent or child. But you do need friends with whom you share experiences with from your own age group. Is there anyone attending this party that you are interested in getting to know?”

Her gaze held Ava as she spoke, looking past the large glasses to the blue eyes. She fell quiet to let her answer, going back to eating her breakfast. Mrs Greir was never a big eater and as she got older, her appetite waned. She was nearly halfway through the slice of frittata and she put her fork down.

Ava knitted her eyebrows together and poked her untouched frittata with her fork. “I don’t know who is going, I do know the host though. She’s helped me on a few projects and seems nice, I guess that’s why she invited me.”

“Well, there you go, she wants you there,” Mrs Greir smiled, then sipped her tea. “Maybe they want to get to you know you, too? You know, Ava, it’s alright to want to be alone, to enjoy being alone and doing things alone but we are social creatures at heart. I spent many days, weeks, months even alone when Walter was overseas. I learned to enjoy my solitude, I understand. But we still need other people, loneliness infects this world, even with all the technology.”

She looked over at Ava, then out the sliding glass door into the green backyard, the hedges and fence that bordered it. “You are still very young, you have so much life and I don’t want you to waste it trapped by fear. Now you can tell me to mind my own business, I won’t be offended.”

“I would never say that to you.” Ava said with a concerned frown, anxiety briefly spiking through her. Why would Mrs Greir think she would say something like that? Ava didn’t think she had been short with her before when she gave advice. Had she been and she just didn’t remember or realize it?

Realizing her thoughts were going to start piling on if she focused any longer on that phrase, she focused back on the conversation at hand. “I’ll...think about it. I have time to RSVP.” She finally dug her fork into her frittata and took a bite. “This is delicious.” She said with a smile and a not so subtle way to change the subject.

Mrs Greir nodded, then smiled, “I found the recipe online, but if anyone asks it was handwritten in my kitchen tome of ancestral recipes. The venerable old Savannah, Georgia style fritatta.”

With a gentle laugh, the older woman looked at the leftovers on her small plate and then at Daisy who was watching with the bug eyed look all pugs had. “I know I shouldn't spoil her anymore than I do, but it’s only going to go in the trash.”

With a snap of her fingers, Mrs Greir suddenly stood up, “That reminds me, I’ll never finish the rest of this food, let me wrap it up for you and you can share it at work since you have to go in unexpectedly.”

“Oh, okay! That’s very nice of you, thank you.” Ava said with a surprised, but happy smile. She looked down at Daisy and laughed seeing Thor peeking around the corner, looking intently at the breakfast table. “You definitely don’t get any table scraps.” She told the cat, then took another few bites of her food and washing it down with the tea before it got too cold. “I should get going soon anyway, I don’t want to hit traffic and security getting into the office is always slow.”

Mrs Greir wrapped the leftover frittata in heavy foil then put it in a large tupperware bowl along with the cut up cantaloupe and strawberries they did not finish in a smaller dish. “Here, make sure you share this, it’ll be a nice surprise for those working on this lovely Saturday morning.”

She handed the stacked tupperware to Ava, then reached up and smoothed a wild curl that had come free from the young woman’s bun. “There, ready to face the world. Or at least the Beltway.”

Ava blushed but smiled at the grandmotherly gesture. It made her think of her own grammy, hundreds of miles away in Rhode Island. She stood up and gave the taller woman a hug. “I need all the luck I can get with the Beltway.” She laughed.

“That you do, dear,” Mrs Greir said as she walked Ava to the door, then glanced over at Daisy and Thor, the cat pretending not to be interested in the pug’s antics, licking his paw and grooming behind his ear. When he thought the women were not looking, he bat curiously at the dog’s curly wagging tail, then turned away again.

Ava looked back at Thor. “Oh, almost forgot about him.” She said. “Um, let me just get his leash.”

“Why not just leave Thor with me, I will be out in the garden the rest of the morning, he can keep us company. He loves stalking around in there,” Mrs Greir offered, holding the door for a moment. “He might enjoy a change of pace, rather than being left alone in the house.”

“If you’re sure.” Ava said slowly, looking at the large feline skeptically. “You leave the birds alone.” She told the cat firmly. “I’m not going to have my cat be responsible for destroying the local ecosystem of the neighborhood.”

With a soft chuckle, Mrs Greir glanced at the pair and said, “Don’t worry, with Daisy there he won’t get the chance to find birds. She chases them with no hope of catching any. Bless her heart.”

She stepped outside with Ava, then closed the door behind them. “Be safe driving, and don’t go worrying about things that don’t need to be worried over.”

Ava nodded, smiling up at her warm and kindly face. “Okay, don’t be afraid to put Thor in time out.” She said jokingly as she stepped down off the porch. “I’ll let you know when I’ll be home.” She told her as she walked down the path with the left overs balanced in her hands.

“I raised three sons and a daughter, don’t worry,” Mrs Greir said, watching until Ava crossed back into her own yard before going inside.

LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
THE PROGRAM HEADQUARTERS,
CIA HEADQUARTERS
0957HRS...///

Almost 18 years with the Program had made Supervising Special Agent Gregory Stark of Homeland Security Investigations a man with little patience for anything less than the best. As long as the best was what he deemed the best in his eyes. Viewing his gray head of hair with resentment as yet another sign his body was reminding him he would not be in the field again for the Program nor HSI’s Field Intelligence Groups, he relegated himself to watching over the Office of Logistics’ day to day activities like Big Brother. His own hatred of micro-management kept him from committing the grave sin. That, and frequent golfing trips to secure deals with important people for the purpose of furthering The Program’s standing in the US Intelligence Community, a place where even the Program was viewed with suspicion for being blacker-than-black in the eyes of even the NSA.

And now he had gotten word that the Director of Logistics and the Director of Operations, plus that grizzled, smug little prick Steven Foster from the CIA had cut a deal for an urgent transfer on the Black Slab Case. He wore his disgust plainly for that CIA asshole Foster and his fast and loose lapdog Joseph Donnelley, an even bigger, more grizzled, more smug prick from those cowboys in the Special Activities Center here in Langley.

When a knocking came at his door, he didn’t hesitate for it to show in his voice either, because they had come calling like reapers to take from him one of the best analysts and technicians he had, “Get the hell in here, Moore!”

Outside the door Ava jumped and her immediate instinct was to apologize and quickly leave the area. She clamped down on that urge however, since the inclusion of her last name informed her that yes, she was supposed to be there. Stark sounded angry and her mind raced through what she could have done wrong to earn his ire. She had filed her reports on time. She was on schedule with all her work and he cleared her to help in other departments with their projects.

Her palms broke out into a nervous sweat as she turned the knob and slowly poked her head inside; her eyes wide from underneath her large glasses, making her seem even more like a spooked deer. Her throat tightened up as she tried to speak, forcing her to clear it before asking, “You wanted to see me sir?”

“Uh Huh.” Greg Stark nodded as he gestured to a chair at his desk, his icy blue eyes locked on hers, “You’re with that Contractor, Booz-Allen? Analyst?”

“They ever put you in a Blacksite? A FOB? Foreign Station at an Embassy in Bumfuck, Nowhere-stan, even?” Greg Stark’s questions peppered Ava like birdshot.

Ava hesitantly entered the office, making her way to the chair and looking more and more confused with each question from her supervisor. “Oh, uh, yes and yes. Um, no, no and no.” She answered as she reached the chair and sat down in it, smoothing the bottom of her skirt forward so it didn’t wrinkle.

She sat in the chair with a ramrod straight back and her legs tucked to the side, her hands curled into fists on her lap. “I’m sorry sir, have I done something wrong? Was my last report insufficient?” She asked, her brows knitted together in pure confusion.

Stark sighed, his fingers brushing the thick-rimmed glasses further up his nose as he pinched the bridge. He collected himself, taking a couple more breaths and folding his hands out in front of himself. “Of course not, Ava, you’re one of the best things Booz-Allen could’ve given us.” He said in an almost father-like tone, knowing none of this was Moore’s fault and putting aside his anger for now. And knowing people usually responded better to bad news if it wasn’t being yelled in their face. “You’re familiar with what the Office of Operations does?”

Ava relaxed slightly when she was given the clear on the quality of her work. That was a relief, though the line of questioning she received still kept her tense, unsure where the direction of this meeting was going. “I am sir.” She answered with a nod of her head. “Do you need me to go through some raw data they collected in the field? Or do I need to take a look at their system software to make sure it’s secure?” She asked, her shoulders relaxing slightly more as her mind ran through the work possibilities, making notes on what might be needed, how she could fit that into her work schedule.

Stark’s eyes darted to the left for a moment before started nodding. She was on the right trail, at least, “Uh Huh,” He smiled, his lips pressed tight in a humorless line, “Yeah. In West Virginia. For Case Officer Steve Foster. In the field.”

“This is going to be an active case, part of an international one. It’s sapping away a lot of manpower and we’ve got shit on the backburner that shouldn’t be there.” He said, almost justifying it for himself more than Moore, “If I can offer you up to the Working Groups out in the field, I will. You’re one of our best bets.”

“After all, you’re tied to this place and what’s…” he stopped, remembering that part of her file may have been particularly sensitive to Ava. The dreams. “They need you. Steve Foster requested you by name.” He paused, remembering that Foster did ask for her, but in the way he’d ask for a certain waitress. ‘You know, that mousy one.’

“You’re going to report to Working Group UMBRA in Blackriver county. Office of Logistics have already provided you the work funds you’ll need for anything there, and a rental you can use to drive.” He smiled again. Still no humor in it. Maybe condolences.

As he spoke, the rapid track of thought in Ava’s mind grew increasingly quiet until her mind was silent. She stared at Agent Stark, as though he had switched to a foreign language in the middle of their conversation.

Like the flip on a light switch, a cold sweat broke out along the edge of her hairline and her hands started to shake. Her mind flashed through the key points of what Agent Stark just said.

West Virginia. Field work. Working group UMBRA. West Virginia. Field Work. Working fucking group UMBRA.

She took in a deep breath and moved one hand up to play with the silver pendant worn openly on her creamy, peach colored sweater. She ran her thumb over the embossed image of The Archangel Michael, slaying the Devil and the latin words engraved around the image. It provided her a spark of comfort and she focused on the image pressing against her thumb to bring her back to the conversation.

She opened her mouth and a squeak came out. She shut her lips and swallowed thickly, then parted them to try again. “S-sir, you know I’m not a field Agent.” She finally said, her voice far softer than she had intended it to be.

“Yet.” Stark said, simply. “Office of Operations has already finalized the paperwork. Your transfer forms came in an hour ago.”

He slid a piece of paper from a corner of his desk, a form that may as well have been a contract to a career black hole. A contract with the very devil on her pendant. Office of Operations personnel were known to be unruly JSOC cowboys and the only place for them elsewhere was the Office of Security as Safehouse guards and the quiet little hands that arrived to tie up loose ends after an operation.

That was not, nor ever would be, what Stark saw Ava Moore as. Even so, “Please initial and date here,” he pressed a finger on a blank line before moving it to another at the very bottom, below two other signatures belonging to the Director of Operations and the Director of Logistics, “And date and signature here. Please.”

Ava took in a deep breath and squeezed her pendant in her hand. It felt like she was signing her own death certificate. She picked up the pen sitting on the desk and quickly read over the document, her eyes flashing across the page and absorbing the information for her to likely obsess over later. Line by line, word by word, letter by letter.

She wanted to fight this transfer, wanted to just say no, get up and leave and go back to the safety of her office and the cool detachment of raw data and lines of code. But she knew Gregory Stark, perhaps not personally, but she knew and understood how the man worked and viewed his work.

If he had been able to stop this, he would have.

She signed the paperwork, her hand steadying as a cold numbness washed over her. Hopefully she could keep it together until she was in the privacy of her own home, where she could have a quiet and civilized mental break down.

She set down the pen when she finished and continued to run her fingers over her pendant. “When do I need to leave, where and who do I report too?” She asked him, her voice buzzing in her ears with the hollow words she spoke.

“Thank you, Ava.” Stark said, his voice like he was reading her epitaph. “You’re doing us good. You’ll be safe out there, they know what they’re doing, these guys.”

“As for who you’ll report to,” Stark reached into a drawer and produced a phone, placing it in front of Ava, “There’s only two numbers on this phone. This will be your direct line to Steve Foster, your Case Officer. Joseph Donnelley is Working Group UMBRA’s team lead. A good man. I like him.”

That was complete and unfiltered bullshit coming from Stark, whose few interactions with Donnelley and Foster, both inside the Program’s tucked away corner of Langley and outside of it were hard stares and stilted conversations. Donnelley in particular had once called him an uptight prick with no sense of scope of just how important and secretive Donnelley’s operations were and had to stay. “Make sure Foster knows you’re coming, and tell Donnelley too. Those Working Groups are paid to be suspicious of everybody they don’t know.”

Ava nodded, picking up the phone with her free hand and looking it over suspiciously. “I’ll be sure to give them each a call.” She agreed, slipping the phone into a pocket in her skirt. “Does...it matter when I call them?” She asked him hesitantly. “How do I know it’s a good time?”

“You know as well as I do that the Program doesn’t give a shit. If you’re going to work with these guys, they don’t give a shit when you call them.” Stark shrugged. “Your ETA should be ASAP. They don’t like waiting.”

Ava nodded, briefly looking down at the pendant she was fiddling with. She read over the latin phrase inscribed on the edges, the corner of her mouth briefly ticking upwards and then looked up at Agent Stark; her eyes screaming with uncertainty. But she tried to keep a professional composure. “Thank you sir, it’s been a pleasure working with you.” She said, standing up and not so subtly making sure her hand was dry before holding it out to him to shake.

“Likewise, Ava.” Stark said, about as much sentimentality as he was willing to show as he gave the only genuine smile and concern for what he’d just sent Ava off to do, “Good luck, you’ll do great out there.”

Ava returned his smile, appreciating the lie. Maybe she should have tried to get to know Agent Stark better? “Thank you sir. Am I dismissed for the day? I have some things I need to get into order before I leave.” She hoped Mrs. Greir wouldn’t mind looking after Thor for awhile longer, maybe she should call Foster sooner than later. Or the team lead, if Stark liked him then maybe it’d be easier to talk to him first.

The weight of the phone in her pocket suddenly felt heavier than it had any right to be.

“Go ahead, just make it quick.” Stark tapped his forehead in a quick salute before Ava left.

She returned the salute, awkwardly, unsure if it was the right thing to do. It seemed like it was polite wasn’t it? She quickly turned around as her cheeks started to turn red beneath her freckles and sped walk out of the office.

It looked like she had a valid excuse to not go to that party.

Delta Green: Whispers in the Darkness

Name: Avaline “Ava” Margaret Moore

Age: 27

Gender: Female

Appearance: Avaline

Ava stands at a small 5’3, she has a slender build with little to no muscle. She has no tattoos and the only piercings she has are those in the lobes of her ears.

Agency/Organization: Booz Allen Hamilton, Regional All Source Analyst/Office of Operations - Attaché, The Program

Education: Doctorate in Computer, Information Sciences and Support Services from Massachusetts Institute of Technology Academics as well as an Engineering Degree.

Background

At the age of 2, Ava was found, abandoned on a backcountry road in West Virginia. She was uninjured, but a little malnourished and with no sign of who left her there. Months of trying to locate her family, any family, turned up nothing and so she became a ward of the state.

As luck would have it, it wasn’t long until she was adopted by a Rhode Island couple; Zach and Louise Moore. Zach was a surgeon and general physician at Miriam Hospital and his wife Louise was a professor of Anthropology and Archeology for Brown University. The two could not have children of their own and had been on the waiting list for years to adopt a child. To say they had been over the moon when they got the news they could bring a child home would be an understatement.

The child was brought home and named Avaline Margaret Moore, Ava for short.

Louise’s parents, salt to the earth working class people, were likewise excited to have a grandchild and took about spoiling the girl however they could. The ones unexcited with the adoption were Zach’s WASP parents, that didn’t fully consider Ava to be a “real” grandchild. This could not have been more clear than when Zach’s brother and sister both had children and they were allowed to call their paternal grandparents ‘nana’ and ‘papa’ but Ava was regulated to the formal ‘grandmother’ and ‘grandfather’.

This created tension between Zach and his family, tension that was exasperated when, shortly after Ava was adopted; they discovered that she was a gifted child. By the age of 3 she could read and count. By the age of 5 she could multiple and divide.

Perhaps it was an attempt to prove his family wrong, but Zach and Louise eagerly encouraged Ava’s budding talents in math and science. They became laser focused on getting her everything she could possibly need to be an academic powerhouse. So focused in fact that they forgot to allow Ava the chance to be a normal child.

She didn’t go to regular elementary school as she tested too high for the grades. Instead she had tutors and the only real social interaction with her own age group came with her cousins from her aunt and uncle. The only break in her study that she received was when she went to her maternal grandparents, ‘grammy’ and ‘gramps’, house for weekend visits. There they put the books away, gave her crayons and paper to draw, let her watch mindless cartoons and took her to parks and zoos.

Ava had such fun with her grandparents that she didn’t even mind when they would take her to church on Sundays. While other kids her age squirmed and nodded off, Ava enjoyed listening to the choir sing and admired the stain glass windows, but mostly she loved not having to do school work.

When she started having night terrors at the age of 8, Ava’s parents realized that maybe they had been pushing the girl too hard, too quickly. They cancelled the tutors and tried enrolling Ava in a private elementary school, to interact with children her own age.

This...did not help. Ava was branded weird by the rest of her peers and bullied regularly while also finding the classes boring and unchallenging. This resulted in her acting out in frustration at the teacher, which lead to many parent/teacher conferences and put a brief strain on her parent’s marriage on how to solve the issue. The night terrors seemed to worsen when she was enrolled in school and so she was taken back out and returned to her private tutors.

The night terrors subsided shortly after she went back to her private studies and her parents thought she had simply grown out of them. When she was 10 years old, Ava was invited to attend MIT for her gifted intelligence and her parents rented a home near the university for Ava to live in with her retired grammy and gramps during the fall and spring semesters.

College had been a difficult experience for Ava. Not because of the work, she enjoyed learning so much about math, science and technology. But because of the social aspect. She was a ten year old among students that were twice her age. She didn’t feel like a person when talking to them, more like an oddity to be pointed at and whispered about. This lead to her shutting herself off socially and focusing on her studies. The numbers of math and science made sense to her and were easier to understand than the college aged adults around her.

At 13 her night terrors returned and shortly after she was diagnosed with a mild anxiety disorder. Her parents and maternal grandparents wanted her to quit college but she fought them and insisted on completing her education; mostly because at the time, she didn’t know what to do outside of going to school and studying. After much arguing her parents allowed her to continue attending college, much to the protest of her maternal grandparents. She was given medication for her anxiety and eventually her night terrors went away again.

Ava went on to earn her doctorate and an engineering degree by the time she was 18 years old. Shortly after she was snatched up by Booz Allen Hamilton for a job in the field of cyber security. By the age of 24 she had worked her way up to the point of earning a government contract with the CIA through her company and a high level of Security Clearance.

However, two years ago, a seemingly inconsequential encounter occurred that would sharply change the direction her life would be taking.

One fine fall morning, Ava was running errands when she stopped outside a grocery to give a homeless man some change. She hadn’t even looked at his sign, but when she tried to walk away he spoke to her:

“How do you sleep?”

She had stopped and looked back at him.

He lifted his head and a pair of eyes that would haunt the back of her mind for the next two years looked back at her. He had smiled at her, a smile that had seemed too large for a human face to make. “I said, how do you sleep, girl?” He had asked again with an eerie chuckle.

Disturbed, Ava went inside the store, found a security guard and told him about the unsettling man. When the guard went outside however, he found no sign of the man she described. It had only been five minutes, not long enough for him to disappear without someone seeing him at least running off.

Shaken and confused, Ava dropped the issue and continued about her day.

That night however, she was plagued with the worst nightmares she had ever experienced. She heard chanting in a language she didn’t understand, saw flashes of symbols and mutilated and rotting corpses on pitch black slabs. It was a nightmare she couldn’t awaken from, no matter how hard she tried; it felt like it would never end.

Thankfully it had ended, but when Ava woke up she found herself on the floor of her bedroom with a marker from her desk in her hand. A marker that had been used to cover her walls in graphic drawings of mutilated corpses on black stones and the symbols from her nightmare.

She requested leave from work, but due to the nature of her job, when she took this sudden leave with no explanation; it raised questions. She tried to hide what happened, but she was never a good liar to regular people, against people who were trained for decades to sniff out the smallest hint of a falsehood, she had no chance.

She revealed what happened, showed the Agents from the government what she had drawn in her sleep and expected to be caught in a big butterfly net and tossed into a mental hospital. And she’d be fired of course.

To her shock, she hadn’t been fired, but instead transferred to the CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia and attached to a mysterious government entity known simply as The Program. She still did some work for the CIA, but her contract now belonged to a branch of Federal investigation that she didn’t fully understand. Over the course of her two years with The Program, she pieced together a few theories, but they were theories her science addled mind didn’t want to explore.

Nor what, if any, she had to do with it.

Personality

Ava is not the best with people. Outside of talking to them about work, codes or tech, she never knows quite what to say and tends to let others do the talking; so she’s learned over the years to be a great listener. She isn’t cold though, she does have empathy and feels for others and is capable of forming deep bonds with friends and family; it just takes her a little longer to get comfortable around new people.

When she does open up, people find her to be warm, considerate with a surprisingly silly sense of humor. She isn’t much of a chatterbox even when she does open up, but there is a noticeable shift in her body language and expressions from a reserved, shy girl that is unsure of herself to someone that is comfortable, a little more confident and noticeably happy to be around another person.

Family, Friends, and Associates

Zach and Louise Moore - Her parents, she loves them dearly, even though sometimes she questions their choices in how they raised her. (Bond 5)

Grammy and Gramps - Her grandparents and the people she is the closest with as her childhood memories are filled with nothing but fun, love and easy times. (Bond 5)

Mrs. Diane Grier - Her next door neighbor and her closest friend. (Bond 5)

Agent Stark - Work Associate, The Program Agent she reports to the most within the CIA HeadQuarters.

Donnelley: Her team lead, a figure of steadfast confidence and strength, but also one of surprising comfort and laughs even when things are serious or grim. He is not the BEST influence, logically speaking, but his mentorship and example has brought out a fire in Ava she was unaware she had. (Bond 5)

Laine: A source of guidance to Ava, when she feels things are spiraling, Laine offers a steadying hand. Their relationship is not without their own banter and quips though, an almost sisterly like bond that Ava hasn’t held with anyone before. (Bond 5)

Dave: An unexpected attraction from an unlikely source, in some ways Dave and Ava could not be more different, but in others they seem like a well fitted match. Dave makes Ava feel that sense of girlish excitement new intimacy can bring, but more than anything he makes her feel safe. (Bond 5)

Likes: Math, Science, technology and a good puzzle that needs solving. She also enjoys music, a bad pun or joke, cartoons and their humor and art in general, especially drawing. She took up the art form in order to learn to draw diagrams for designing drones and found that she enjoyed it. It’s a chance for her to turn off her brain and get lost in the soothing strokes of pencil on paper. She enjoys cycling and jogging for exercise.

Dislikes: Confrontation of any kind, needless anger and yelling makes her shrink in on herself and go dead silent. Meeting new people, not because she doesn’t like people, but because they can be unpredictable and she is afraid of saying the wrong thing and offending them. Sudden changes to her routine that she has no control over. Any disrespect to the sciences or the men and women that work hard to advance their society, educate others or solve the mysteries of the known universe. She hates her hand gun and hand to hand combat training, but tolerates it because it is required.

Fears

Her Night terrors - They had settled down since the incident two years ago, but she still has the occasional nightmare of the memories that even her medication can’t make go away.

The Man With Inhuman Eyes - Ava is terrified of seeing this man again and is paranoid of him stalking her, though she hasn’t seen him since the one time he spoke to her.

No Control - What disturbed Ava the most of her incident, was that she had no control over her own body and didn’t even remember getting out of bed to draw on her walls. She can accept having no control in how life works, life was chaotic with limitless variables that can affect it, but when it comes to her being robbed of her own bodily autonomy, she becomes terrified.

The Unknown - Once upon a time, Ava looked to the Unknown with great curiosity and saw nothing but endless potential, potential that could be discovered and explained with rational and logical application of science. That there exists an Unknown that can’t be explained with her understanding of the application of science and the natural world makes her break into a cold sweat. That she might have some tie to that Unknown, scares her even more.

Ability Scores

STRENGTH: 3 ( , Active Wound)
DEXTERITY: 4 ( , Active Wound)
STAMINA: 7 ( , Active Wound)
BUREAUCRACY: 3
INTELLIGENCE: 8
WILLPOWER: 8
SAN: 40 (Breaking Point, 32)

ACTIVE WOUNDS:
-None

Skills

Gifted(+8): Computer Science | SIGINT | Science (Mathematics)
Adept(+6): Engine Mechanics | Accounting | Craft (Microelectronics) | Awareness
Average(+4): Anthropology | Archeology | History | Marksmanship (handguns)
Novice(+2): Hand to Hand | Persuade | Subterfuge | Forensics | Law (Cyber)

Special Training:
Art (Drawing/Painting) (INT)
Detecting Electrical Sabotage (INT)

ADAPTATIONS: None

Foreign Languages - Mandarin (fluent), Latin (semi), Summerian (rudimentary)

Weaknesses:

Nonphsyical - Prone to panic attacks without her medication

Physical - She is not physically strong

Off-Duty Clothing/Equipment:

Clothing: A lot of pastels. Soft, comfortable sweaters, that more often than not her grammy knitted her. She doesn’t mind wearing skirts if she isn’t working but tends to like yoga pants better. She always wears a St. Michael pendant given to her by her gramps when she first started having her night terrors.
Weapons: Taser and pepper spray
Tools/Equipment: Her phone and a small multi purpose tool also given to her by her gramps

Operational Clothing/Equipment:

Clothing: For office ware, she dresses professionally and conservatively. A lot of blouses, flat heeled but nice shoes and tweed skirts.
Weapons: Glock 26
Tools/Equipment: A heavily secured laptop with more processing power than it has any business having. A flying drone with night vision, infrared vision and a high quality imaging camera and a ground drone with similar capabilities.

OPEN: End of Days (ADVANCED, MxF Biblical Apocalypse rp)

Bump!

OPEN: End of Days (ADVANCED, MxF Biblical Apocalypse rp)

*18+ Only

Basic Plot Rundown

*I'd roughly say this is a mixture of Post-Apocalypse and fantasy.

*Set around a century from modern day human society, when the battle between Heaven and Hell began.

*Think Fallout but instead of nuclear war, it's Angels and Demons having a multi-dimensional pissing match.

*Though Earth is a favorite battleground for the Divine and the Damned to fight, humans have managed to remain alive and in some places even thrive.


*Usual methods for surviving; scavenging, bargaining and of course raiding or all out fighting for resources.

*Different gangs/clans/tribes/communities exist and so have their own politics and even feuds between them.

*The most sought after commodity in the world of the surviving humans; Angel weapons. Though Angel's leave humans completely alone, Demons love to reek havoc on any human settlement they find. Merely possessing Angel weapons will keep lesser Demons away.

*That is just their weapons, imagine what a live Angel could do...

In Character Info

Almost a century ago the final battle between Heaven and Hell began. Humanity has been pushed to the brink and uses any means necessary to continue its survival. Technology and magic are used in tandem. However, regular human magic is not enough in some cases to protect against the bands of Demons that plague the lands. The only way to fight, kill and even ward off such vicious attacks is with an Angelic weapon.

So when a group of scavengers/raiders stumble upon the sight of a recent battle between Angels and Demons, they do not waste time combing the battlefield to take discarded Angel weapons for their own. What a find they had! Imagine all the money they could make and precious commodities they could trade for with such weapons and still have enough to defend themselves!

As the group move among the dead, they find something even they could not have dreamed of seeing.

A live Angel!

Well, a barely alive Angel, but she still breathes! Beside her bloodied hand is her sword. There are legends, rumors that a mortal man could enslave an Angel too him if he takes that Angels sword and stabs it into one of the Angels wings. But that was all such talk was! Merely rumors and tall tales to tell around the campfire.

If it is true, then the man who is the master of a Divine being would know no bounds! If it wasn't true however, that would make for a very angry Angel.

The window of such a momentous opportunity is closing. The Angels wounds are healing and it will be only a matter of time until she awakes and leaves without a glance at the puny mortal that stands beside her.

Do you take that chance?

Out of Character Info

THIS IS NOT A SMUT BASED ROLEPLAY! While I am looking for a "mature" relationship to form between our two characters (mine the angel and your's the human), THIS IS NOT A SEX SLAVE TYPE ROLEPLAY!

I would like for there to be more plot and character development than porn. This is not a kinky partner request, this is a request to find a partner that will contribute equally to the story. Especially since currently I do not have an overall storyline planned, I need someone to brainstorm with so we can create a universe and story unique to us. A thrilling story that will grab hold of us and take us on a wild ride of emotions! I want this to be a dark and gritty world and I'd like my partner's character to be a morally grey or even out right dark guy!

He's a human that grew up in this hopeless seeming world, he's sure to have his jagged edges.

I hope that all made sense, I'm a little slow on brain energy today so if you're interested but have questions then please feel free to PM me them! Or if you're just interested! Also I will be asking for a writing sample, so have one at the ready! This roleplay will have to be carried out in the PM's because of it's mature themes, I hope that is not minded!

Thank you for reading! ^_^

Sample of my writing

A shrill beeping jerked Connor awake, he blinked rapidly up at the pale ceiling above him, momentarily confused about where he was. He groaned and pulled a pillow over his head, wondering if he could ignore the beeping and go back to sleep.

Sleep. He was surprised that after being asleep for three years he’d still need more of it.

After a minute the beeping got to be too annoying to ignore and he knew that he had to get up. He reached over to the side of his bed and blindly slapped around at the table until he grabbed his digital watch. He pulled the pillow off so he could look at it and turn it off.

Letting his hand fall on his bare chest he turned to look at the wall by his bed. The large circular ‘window’ was off leaving just a blank screen. He still wasn’t sure if he wanted to use it or not to fake an Earth environment. The blackness of the screen perfectly matched the endless void of space.

His eyes drifted away from the window to the pictures tapped up by the wall. Gazing at the smiling faces of what were now ghosts of his loved ones made his chest ache and his throat tighten. Maybe putting them on the wall had been a bad idea, every time he glanced at them all he thought about was them and Earth and what it was like now three years later.

Did they know about the ship? Did they know that Connor had been on it?

Did they hate him for it? For not being able to bring them aboard as well?

Shaking his head he pushed up from his bed, swinging his legs over the edge and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. For a couple of minutes he sat like that, trying to wake up and push aside the dark emotions. He had work to do. Or he would after the briefing was over.

He got dressed in a pair of jeans that were well worn and permanently stained in a couple of places from grease and oil and a pair of work boots. Last he pulled on a black t-shirt with a set of crossed wrenches at the center of his chest and above them were the words ‘I’m Here Because’ and below was ‘You Broke Something’. The white ink was a bit faded from being worn and washed countless times but it was still perfectly legible.

Grabbing his toiletry bag he pushed the messy long blue dyed hair on top of his head into some semblance of order, he left his room to head for the communal bathrooms.

He had to at least try to look professional and presentable.

==

Connor felt like his brain short circuited a bit when he entered the auditorium. On the one hand the seating reminded him of college but on the other hand they looked like they were in a fairytale forest.

He looked down at his coffee thermus, his groggy brain wondering if the combination of bad instant coffee mix and half a bottle of sweet creamer and sugar was making him crazy. It’s all a screen, remember? He rolled his eyes both at himself and at the fact that someone decided to make the lecture hall look like it was in an enchanted wood.

Sipping at the diabetes laced concoction that was his morning coffee he walked down the steps to find a seat toward the middle of the auditorium. There weren’t that many people there yet so it was easy to flop his ass down in one and kick his feet up onto the one in front of him.

He idly glanced around at the people present to see if he recognized anyone. A woman walking toward the front caught his attention and he grinned when he recognized Abby. The few weeks before the ships launch he had gotten pretty close to her and her son Michael.

His grin fell as it occurred to him that Michael was likely still in stasis. Inwardly he grimaced, sad that he wouldn’t be able to hang out with his little buddy. If he felt this bad he couldn’t imagine how Abby was feeling and he had to resist the urge to get up and give the woman a great big hug.

But she was working and he didn’t feel like having her knocking him on his ass. Again.

She wasn’t looking at him so he restrained himself from waving and turned his gaze up to the ceiling above them. He frowned up at swaying branches, the bright sunlight streaming through green leaves and a bright blue sky that seemed to stretch endlessly.

He wished it was real.

The Hidden People

I wasn't laying blame in the least.

@HeySeuss

Oh I know! >.> But I sill feel kind of bad

Edit: I'll try to think of stuff at work tomorrow

The Hidden People

Yeah, we need to come up with a mechanism to drive the characters back together. Splitting up was a mistake.

Thoughts?

@HeySeuss

Sorry ><