Warringpeace - Tumblr Posts
She came in her black trench-coat and her signature black leather eye-patch. She had her working attire underneath but only because of the cold was it buttoned all the way. She fooled herself thinking she wouldn’t have to deal Russian-related missions for a while. But no, some idiot had to go and steal something and ruin her Monday.
Up until now, she’s never heard of nor met a Kingsman. The only reason she’s able to meet one today is because of the merit she’s amassed over the years. The same merit (being dedication and the capability to break some skulls) that’s given her missions like this. She could complain about this later after this mission was done.
“Tristan, right?” She inquired at the man who she believed to be her partner for the time being. Extending a hand to shake with she introduced herself, “Dana Glass. You’re partner for the time being until this mess gets sorted out.”
Despite working for military intelligence in Britain, she was indeed american. Something she hoped wouldn’t be a problem during their allotted time together.
Even with the highest security, something was bound to fuck up. That happens, but it wasn’t fair to anyone to complain and bitch about it. It wouldn’t do any good, so the next best thing to do was to work through the shitstorm that this whole thing was. It wasn’t his fault, nor was it hers, but now they had to deal with it. It wouldn’t do any good if a blame
“Guess we should grab a flashlight or two then. In case the day drags onto the night,” She suggests. From her experiences, her missions either finished up quickly or took longer provided they were treated without underestimating them. Wherever they were going, it was unknown territory
“We disagree sometimes, but that’s family for you. We have to clean up in case any of our relatives from Germany stop by,” She answered turning to him.
“What about you? How’s your family going?”
This she repeats, curious to know what his ‘family’ gets on to. Since they were working together, she also wanted to know more, even though this cold war called for no sympathies. Even for those on the same side.
Of Puppichonos and Mix-Ups
For @warringpeace‘s Scarlett Morningstar
She thanked the barista as the order was being made. The coffee shop was busying with people coming and going. Some staying and chatting, Dana stayed in the corner with her Lucie, a grey pitbull with an adorable grin on her face as she watched people. The order was simple, one black coffee for Dana, and a puppichino for Lucie. While this was Dana’s first coffee in the united states for the first time in so long, this would be Lucie’s very first puppichino in any kind of cafe.
In the UK, the two of them would’ve embodied the definition of ‘tough’. Dana with her all-black and black eyepatch covering her left, while Lucie would’ve terrified anyone simply for the breed she chose to blend in. While neither of them didn’t really care about how they were perceived, it was a nice change here; in the states, where she really born. She wasn’t home yet, but it was a start and this was a nice yet simple reward.
She stayed near the counter, as the sight in the one uncovered eye is crappy on this day. It only made sense that when she grabbed her order that she could tell there was only supposed to be one hot drink and one drink. But there were two each of her hands and immediately she felt something was up.
“What the--?” She trailed off as she held up the cup, squinting as she tried to read the name on the cup, hoping that the person who ordered it originally was still here.
“Scarlett?” She called aloud looking around. “Is there a Scarlett still here?”
She looked at her and then back at Lucie, trying to figure out if there was something wrong. It wasn’t Lucie, was it? Meanwhile, Lucie caught a scent that she hadn’t smelled in decades and tilted her head in confusion. Something infernal, from her place of birth. It was also sweet, and heavenly. Something was up with the woman who had the gadget in her hands.
Not to mention her puppichino, of which was being exchanged for a coffee Dana did not order. As soon as she could smell the cream, she put her thoughts away, for now, was the time for puppichinos.
“It’s not a problem,” Dana promised.
She glanced at the phone and said nothing. She couldn’t blame her, and everyone has their days of distraction. It could’ve been her age, but she was used to the idea of phones. Ever since she relieved the early years of the wired phones she was probably so used to them.
“We all have our days when we’re distracted, so it’s not your fault.”
Of Puppichonos and Mix-Ups
“Not gonna lie, she sounds like a Dumb Dora,” She admits as she opened the lid for the puppichino.
As she mentioned before, everyone had their bad days. It didn’t make sense to take it out on someone who had nothing to do with it. She’s found it better to have an outlet to let it out so that it’s never released for the wrong reasons. Back in Britain, her outlet was her missions in the MI5, breaking teeth. Now that she retired, she figured she should find one of a...productive nature. She had mused
“When I say Dumb Dora, I mean to call her stupid,” She explained, hoping to clarify the rare usage of slang as Lucie began to lick the contents in the cup excitedly. For a moment, the sweet whipped cream was all the hound thought of. After licking the cup clean, not to mention licking any off her snout, the hound smelled the heavenly and the infernal again.
She smelled it coming off the woman, as sweet as she looked. Wagging her tail as the infernal reminded her of her old home, she not only sniffed the woman but also licked her hand.
“Her name’s Lucie,” Dana answered, somewhat eased by this interaction. She didn’t see any harm in her, and she patted Lucie’s head.
“And my name’s Dana, it’s nice to meet you, Miss...?”
Of Puppichonos and Mix-Ups
“It’s not a drink per se, but more so comprised of whipped cream. I think coffee’s hard on a dogs stomach but whipped cream’s lighter in a sense its milk,” admitted Dana taking a shot at trying to define what a puppichino could be.
She only heard of it during their in-between transfers while waiting for the next flight. With Lucie, Dana wasn’t too worried for her because she wasn’t a normal dog.
She decided to take a seat with her with Lucie following at her side. When Dana sat, Lucie sat on the floor. They didn’t really have anything to do, as getting coffee and a puppichino was all for today. But for Dana, there wasn’t a rush to go back to their means of temporary lodging. She figured they would stay for a couple weeks before going back to Seattle. All the more time to explore and meet new people.
“Not really, it’s our first time here, not just in this cafe but in L.A. generally. I went to live in the UK for a time but now I’m back living in the states. And I figured L.A was a good place to visit to kick it off.”
“What about you? You from here?”
She asked this curiously, hoping to take initiative in creating an exchange of answers hoping to satiate each other's curiosity.
Of Puppichonos and Mix-Ups
"Not really a huge fan of crowds when it comes to touring groups. I prefer museums for quietness. Plus I can take my time reading the bits of info strewn about the exhibits.”
She didn’t have a thing for big tourism booms. She felt they didn’t show the whole profile of a place. That’s probably why she stuck to museums and the grungy clubs playing live music. To her, it was a way of understanding a place, instead of the commercialized version of what a place should be.
“Where at in the south? New Orleans? I was born in Seattle.” She’s curious and she likes details. Maybe because of her former line of work, when details were crucial to a mission at hand. Where every detail mattered. She has to remind herself that she’s retired and there is no need for crucial vitality. Sometimes old habits die hard.
She nodded in agreement with her remark about time. “Moving to another place always feels like that. I’ve been staying here for a couple days but it feels like only yesterday that Lucie and I stepped on L.A soil. Right, Lucie?”
Lucie looked up and nodded as if to understand everything they’ve been saying (which she has) before laying down on the floor, basking in the sun shining through the window.
Of Puppichonos and Mix-Ups