Chapter Text
The Time Editing Agency or TEA for short (government agencies love their acronyms), is dedicated to seamlessly altering the historical timeline for the best possible outcome of humanity. Every heist is meticulously planned by the team of analysts, philosophers, physicist, and historians to execute the best alteration. The Time Machines, (once legally regulated and meticulously destroyed, except for the few that belong to the agency), are managed by brilliant technicians and engineers including the original designerof the machine themselves. And (what everybody seems to think is most importantly.) missions are carried out by Highly trained travelers. A diverse group of men and women trained to reduce as much butterfly effect as possible from their actions. They are taught many languages and dead languages in order to provide the most seamless inclusion into whatever time period or area they are presented with.
TEA has been operating from the shadows for decades, and only those with the intelligence and skill to work. There will ever know it exists since they’ve written themselves out of history for the safety of the world.
The Commander (Because code names are very important even when they already have all your information, because it’s the government, anyway.) ordered, “Your mission is to be subtle influences on Marie Antoinette. Keep her from being assassinated until the proper time, and make her a caricature of the uncaring aristocracy. The French revolution needs a little more encouragement and your job is to give it that. This mission will last six years, near the end of her reign. Case manager will tell you what the best role for this task would be, then the dress up corner will aid in appearance. The mission will take place in two weeks, Good luck travelers.”
Fresh out the Academy, these travelers were given the role of fellow aristocrats to befriend and manipulate Marie Antoinette. Case manager ‘Tabs’ instructed them to go to Spiders as soon as possible, preferably with athletic clothes and snack offerings. But travelers 446 and 731 (they don’t get creative nicknames till the first mission) felt there were better things to do then go to the dress up corner, as the hair make up and apparel department was referred to, until closer to the mission. So a week went by as they researched as much as they could about the customs of aristocratic France and asked around to experienced agents for advice.
In the archive ‘little Timmy’ (no there is not a big Timmy) was talking to the newbies, “But you gotta understand, there is more to embracing a new timeline, then just language and customs. Sure you know politics but do you know the smell of 18th century France?“ he looks like a real Prince charming if Prince charming wore ironic graphic tees, and have the cadence of a salesman to keep you interested.
Agent Lizzie’s face scrunched up, “ look I love ancient Europe, but the city is unbearable.” Well she knows many accents. Her voice naturally settles to Scottish.
Agent 731 inquired, “ unfortunately I am prepared to smell sewage, but is there any way to combat that?Keep us from getting sick as much as possible?” Her slight modern British accent already sending patronizing like a true aristocrat.
Lizzie responds, “ don’t worry, Clown has a compact that provides the most accurate yet nontoxic makeup for European beauty standards. Gives you that consumptive look without actually giving you tuberculosis you know. And spiders has excellent scented handkerchiefs.”
446 shrugs, vaguely remembering those names from the brief. ” that’s nice I guess.”
Little Timmy passionately interrupts,”No, you don’t understand. Those handkerchiefs were the only reason I didn’t get pink eye or vomit constantly. I should know, I pissed them off once so they gave me a period accurate one and I-I just couldn’t.”
“why do you have a handkerchief? Aren’t those for women?” Agent 446 question. In spite of all his research, gender studies, haven’t appeared as prevalent as other aspects.
“And where am I supposed to put mine since I get one. Women’s clothes tend to not have pockets” Agent 731 asked remembering pictures of the effects of corsets and suddenly worrying about her ribs.
“No trust me the smell is so bad everybody had handkerchiefs, the little pocket squares is just a pull over from that custom. And usually there’s a pocket in your corset or the padding of your hips. I feel like spiders would’ve mentioned this to you..” Lizzie responded running her hand through her curly red hair.
“ I don’t think the tailor would give us as much on-site info as you guys. I mean you were in post war France.” 731 assumed twirling the bottom of her brown hair and her fingers.
“ yeah, maybe we should swing by before night of.” 446 added. Lizzie and little Timmy’s jaws dropped. Fear plastered across there previously chill faces. “ what’s the matter?”
Lizzie was the first to gain her voice back. “you haven’t gone to dress up corner at all. Names, faces, hair, clothes, nothing?”
731 confused by the apparent fear, “I don’t think that’s a very important part, besides we can always just steal some clothes when we get there, right?”
Little Timmy, “You have doomed yourselves for the next century. Are you kidding me?” the salesman cadence lost.
Lizzie ,” It may seem like a small department, but they’re the backbone to keeping period accuracy. They put Susan in pants. Susan! And saved Kane from lead poisoning, for social customs. Where are you going? Is a very smelly, very toxic, and very snooty time. Period in area. You think knowing exactly what to wear and when is a small part of being aristocrat? You think those insane wigs can take 30 minutes before departure? If you wait one more hour, that could be the difference between sweat and oder reduction, and tuberculosis. Go now with offerings and pray they have enough time in mercy.” Lizzie pointed in the direction of the dress up corner.