FIFTY-FOUR : the truth that closes in like darkness (part one)

[wristsniper]

[A: Phone, roughly 4 AM]
Prussia, get over here. Bring me some of your clothes. Eirin... you as well.

[B: Action; roughly 6 AM]
[Olivier is sitting on the couch, staring intently at a crumpled piece of paper and a photograph she holds with unusual gentleness. It's false, a ruse, a ploy, she knows it... But there's nothing she can take lightly

Comments

[hop_toit_udonge]

Understood. -All that needs to be said. She's on her way.-

ACTION

[wristsniper]

[GREAT. When Eirin gets there, Olivier is seen in a rare NIGHTGOWN ensemble because fuck this place, with her hair pulled back in a low ponytail.

She pulls Eirin inside immediately, pulling her into a tense embrace.]

ACTION

[hop_toit_udonge]

-Eirin returns the gesture all the same. After all, she had received... similar news.-

ACTION

[wristsniper]

[Olivier takes a deep breath.] You received one as well?

[braided_icarus]

I don't like this.....

[wristsniper]

Neither do I. Did you get anything in the mail?

[braided_icarus]

Yeah.

[wristsniper]

...Are you going to do it?

[armywithcountry]

[Prussia sounds furious.]

What clothes? Because unless you want these stupid fucking Mayfield outfits, those bastards took everything!

[wristsniper]

It's better than the dresses they left me. Bring something over here!

[armywithcountry]

Ugh, fine. Don't know why you couldn't have stolen something from Zevran...

[But true to his word, Prussia shows up at her door with a couple of outfits a few minutes later.

She may notice that the sword that's usually hanging by his side is missing.]

[wristsniper]

Do you think he wears clothing when he doesn't have to? I'm not even looking at that side of the bed. I refuse to.

[AND LATER;] My sword. You're holding out on me, Prussia?

[rogue_crow]

Houseguests, Olivier?

[Zevran, unsurprisingly, is not the least bit perturbed about his letter. Well, maybe a bit, by the pictures of Olivier, but not beyond that. Assassination? Mayfield could hardly have given him an easier, more natural assignment than this. And it's not like this Tavros, whoever he is, won't come back to life anyway.

Surely there is nothing that could possibly make him think twice about this.]

Eirin I could understand, but Prussia? Surely you trust him to be capable of handling this.

[wristsniper]

I just wanted my sword back. [She's muttering, though, shuffling through a small set of photographs, two of which feature Zevran himself, Prussia, and Eirin, but the third...]

Sit down, Zevran. [Scooting over on the couch a bit, she invites him to sit beside her.]

[rogue_crow]

I doubt you will get it. All my things seem to be missing, as well.

[He cocks an eyebrow at the order, but he sits down obediently enough.] Yes, my dear?

[wristsniper]

No, he had my spare. Ugh. This is... ridiculous.

[She's quiet for a moment, tucking one of the photographs under her leg, out of his sight. The other two, she presents to him casually. He ought to recognize Miles in one of them, surrounded by other blue-uniformed, serious men--including a handful of RATHER LARGE INDIVIDUALS--all seemingly enjoying some idle discussion in Mayfield's park.

The other contains six blonde individuals who look nothing like Olivier, aside from the eyes. They're sitting around a table in a house that looks like the one Olivier and Dist lived in, enjoying a quiet meal.

She doesn't say anything.]