Chapter Text
Damian
In the dim lights of his classroom, Damian was not able to keep up with what the teacher was saying. he tried to keep his eyes from drooping; he almost mirrored the pink-haired dummy just a few rows ahead of him. The last thing he needed was to have anything in common with a peasant, let alone the tardiness.
To be fair, he stayed up late the previous night to study for the upcoming history mock test.
Before he could doze off, the bell rang, marking the end of today’s classes. The students jolted as they rushed to place their books inside their back but before they could, the teacher, Mr. Henderson, announced.
“Gentle reminder, dear students, that we’re going to the Berlin Museum for a cultural experience, where we will be unearthing the secrets of the past. All of the students are expected to read up on the paleontology section of your history books. The buses shall leave sharply at 9 a.m and any tardiness will be punished.”
The last line is directed at Forger.
Obviously, the girl really needs to learn to arrive on time.
Not that I notice such things.
*cough cough*
anyways…
A Desmond expected to ride in a bus? really?
The hell are we paying them for?
The teacher exited the classroom, leaving the excited students to rave and whisper over the school trip, which included his friends Ewen and Emile. They packed up their bags, heading for the exit when a figure stepped in front of him, blocking his entire line of vision. Her back was to him; she took a step backward, crashing directly into him.
She turned around to apologize with an adorable grin, which he thought was directed at him, but when she saw the victim of her clumsiness , she resorted to sticking with her iconic annoyed face.
“Ugh, sy-on boy,” eyes rolling back in annoyance. She turned and headed towards the door with Blackbell on her arm.
“UGHH! DUMMY!! WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING!! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO BUMPED INTO ME!! IDIOT,” he said in a futile effort as she vamoosed out the door. Damian was greatly agitated by her presence.
Why is she always getting in my way!!
she's the one who collided with me, and she has the nerve to look irritated!!!
maybe she's aggravated cause i havent paid her back for the handkerchief.
why do I even owe her anything?
*flashback to when she handed him the handkerchief with a smile that saved him from his anxious thoughts.*
whatever.
Ewen, Emile, and Damian entered their dorm room, collapsing in unison on their bed. “Finally, this day is over!” said Emile, groaning into his covers. Damian knew that to be false cause finals were coming, and he had to study for them. he let his friends rest while he made his way to the study table, which held neatly stacked bundles of papers, a photo frame of his family from when he was 3, and the photo frame from orientation day.
He leaned back on his chair and thought of the day when Lady Tonitrus had come to Eden, the day he was almost caught without his handcloth. He was on the verge of breaking down, so deeply terrified of the consequences. Damian seriously could not risk getting a tonitrus over this! And when he thought it was all over, it took one tap on his shoulder from her to put him at ease.
She was giving him her hankie; the dummy could see through him like glass, its like as if she could read his mind or something. Her eyes were so breathtakingly deep that he could leap inside and face her soul. He knew he didn't deserve this act of kindness from her. All he’d done since the start was bully her; that was no way to treat his people, he realized, if he wanted to be a politician.
and also… no way to treat her. especially if I don't wanna see her cry.
dammit, I better go call Jeeves now. She said she wanted cakes, didn't she? then she will have it. The FINEST cakes in all of Ostania...cause i need to show her how high my status is.
He used the line in his common hall to contact Jeeves, his butler.
“Hello?”
“Hmm, Jeeves, I need certain items shipped to my dorm.”
“Ah, Master Damian, of course. Whatever you need”
“I need the Ostania anthropology guide, new pens, and um…”
“Anything else??? Seems like something besets your mind”
“Yeah, I need the finest sweets in all of Ostania…”
“Since when does master damian have a sweet tooth? Perhaps it's for a special someone?”
Redness crept up his neck as he got all defensive. “NOO!! It's just for that forger girl, Anya.” his words were sharp as to order Jeeves to not question further. Silence on the other line for about 3 seconds before Jeeves exclaimed.
“Oh, master damian, your mother would feel so delighted and ecstatic to know this tidbit of information. She ador-” he tried to finish before Damian intervened.
Ughh, what a mess
now jeeves knows
“NOPE! JEEVES!!” screaming into the poor telephone.
“ Oh, how delighted I am!! Ms.Forger must be a wonderful lady! I shall have the finest sweets shipped to your dorm right away!!”
Before Damian could object,
“NOT a word of this to Mother, Jeeves, please. jeeves?!? JEEVES!! AHH!!!” he heard static on the other end of the line.
dammit all to hell.
Jeeves
As Jeeves laid down the telephone cheerfully, Melinda passed around the corner and noticed the merry countenance of the family butler. With a quizzical look on her face, she questioned him.
“Jeeves, you seem so happy! What sort of news has got you all riled up? And who was on the other end of the line? Was it one of the boys?”
“Madam Melinda, I've got amazing news,” he cheered, not keeping the secret to himself.
“I was on the line with master damian right now, and he requested the finest of treats intended for the young Miss Forger!!”
“Yor’s daughter!?! What a happy turn of events! I was so sure that they had a rivalry stirring. This is indeed good news; I'm going to see to this matter personally!”
She sprinted out of her mansion’s door, ready to complete the task at hand.
She is such a dedicated mother, one of the finest ladies. If only it weren't for him.
As soon as he thought it, he felt a chill run down his spine. Very unsafe, he thought. So he changed the topic.
well im so incredibly happy for my charge. god knows that it is difficult to find genuine connections as the scion of a wealthy family, even more so when the ‘wealthy family is the Desmond family.
This time, this thought brought a smile to his face.
Loid
The day started off as regular as any other. Loid woke up, got dressed, had breakfast with his family (it was Yor’s turn to cook, but he ate it compliantly), made conversation with his fake wife, and parted ways for what was supposed to be a weekend.
his lie : medical conference,
the truth : just another undercover spy mission
it was just another simple routine mission for Loid; the only setback was that it was really far from Berlint, at an outlying military post, a 5-hour train journey. He was to disguise himself as the Berlint embassy officer and accept 5000 important documents containing the income tax returns and bank statements of several wealthy noblemen and offenders.
He collected the suitcase from the witless officials who were under the impression that Twilight was the embassy officer. Twilight glanced at his watch,
Hmm... 3 PM... that was soon. I have no other missions till tomorrow’s lunch rendezvous. I must start my report briefing as soon as we reach the hotel.
Loid reached the hotel and made his way to his room, but in the lobby he noticed another WISE agent, who subtely double clicked his watch, which meant only one thing. handler has some urgent news to share and is going to make contact soon.
He reached his room. He opened the door and missed the warmth of his fake family. Expecting to be welcomed by the sound of infectious laughter or the theme song of Anya’s favourite TV show, Spy Wars, or the sweet, honey-like voice of Yor Briar, he was only greeted with silence and a cold draft.
What DID surprise him tho was the call he received from his handler. It was not proper protocol to call an agent while on a mission. He severed the wired connection and connected the two ends of the wire to a scrambling device invented by Franky.
“Handler?”
“Twilight, we’ve got a situation”
“Since it is not proper protocol to interfere with an agent’s mission; I'm assuming the news must be dire”
“Yes, it is. We got intel that the Eden buses on the way to the museum were hijacked by a group of terrorists”
"....."