Becoming the mask

[depletes]

THE FALSE PRETENSES MEME
a shipping meme


It's only a natural response to want to be shown love and affection, no matter how hard your exterior is. If not in those words - if you truly are that cold - perhaps what you seek is adoration or worship. Regardless of how you slice it, there's something invigorating to the ego in being the object of someone's ardor. And that's what you are now, to put it mildly; the way they look at you, you'd think you hung the moon and stars. In fact, their love for you has lead to a relationship with them. Congratulations! It's all going so well.

Except that it's all based on a lie.

You're not the person they think you are...maybe even literally. They could think you're someone else completely, as such, or it could be more abstract. They don't know what you've really done, do they? The crimes you've committed, the blood on your hands - what if blood they cherished? It's doubtful if they knew what you truly were, they'd look at you with such tenderness. That's not something you can deal with. You've grown used to them and don't want to let them go. Not now.

You love them. They've wormed their way into your heart, and you just can't lose them. You just...can't. Despite what your intentions were at the beginning (you were being purposefully cruel, you were playing along, you didn't want to hurt them, you wanted to give them what they wanted), you've bought into your own hype. Whatever you have to do to keep this ruse up, you'll do.

But, of course, what's done in the dark will be brought to the light. Soon, those eyes that look towards you will be filled with pain and doubt; you can't keep your little secret forever, and it will only gut your lover in the end.

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[utselet]

It's all exciting for Sophie. She's only been to DC so far, other than a trip through New York to solidify her own backstory, and it's a big mission, the first she's been on that feels really important. The fact that she gets to go with Elizabeth... she'd call it a bonus, icing on the cake, but it's much more than that. It means so much more, even if she's mostly there to make sure Sophie does this right.

She's a trained spy, and her poker face now is phenomenal, but she still can't curb the butterflies that flit around in her stomach the whole way there. It's hard to keep herself from snuggling up to her right on the plane, or pouncing her in the hotel room. They're working, and she knows she can't, but her eyes dance with all the extra energy she's carrying with her.

Maybe that's why she hears what the gangly, spiky-haired one says while everyone else's attention is drawn to the Mountie's bright red jacket, while her own bounces around like a ping pong ball. It stops dead and focuses like a laser when she hears a familiar name. She nudges Elizabeth's foot under the table and shoots a pointed glance at the man.

[yedinyy]

She's already heard, of course. She has the disadvantage of sitting with her back to the door and has to follow the proceedings in the mirror in the far back. She can make out their faces, their clothing, but can't follow the entire conversation.

But the name stands out. She bends down to take a drink from her straw, raises her eyebrows.

"Look," the gangly one is saying to the tall, handsome Mountie, "I know you have your sympathies and all, you know, that suit ain't that red just 'cause mooses like lookin' at that color."

That can't be a good sign, Elziabeth's eyebrows say to Sophie.

[utselet]

"Ray, don't be absurd," the Mountie snipes back. "I am not a Communist." He pauses. "But, you know, if you just talk to the man--"

His partner cuts him off with an abrupt, indignant sound. Sophie looks back to Elizabeth, the blood draining from her face. She starts subtly adjusting the silverware in front of her, her compulsive-control tendencies kicking in in the face of her suddenly overwhelming nerves.

They're supposed to have a code for this, she swears, but she'll be damned if she can remember it right now. "I--" She licks her lips. "You know, I thought I was hungry, but I'm not so sure. Maybe I should cancel my order?"

[yedinyy]

"We can get it to go," she says, firmly, licking her lips, throwing back the last of her coffee. The men are stepping forward in line, bickering, until the smaller one cuts the Mountie off to place his order at the till.

To go. Great, she thinks: they can follow them easily. She remembers how quickly the coffee was made before, and she throws a few bills on the table before wiping her mouth and walking out, knowing Sophie will follow.

"It's a coincidence," she says, firmly, once the door closes behind them.

[utselet]

She's not sure. She's not sure what to think at all.

More importantly: "What do we do now?" she asks, watching the men walk down the block. Once they're a safe distance away, she starts to move, too.

[yedinyy]

"We follow them, and if need be, we meet with them. Come on," she urges her, briefly touching her elbow. She sends her a brief smile, hoping to communicate that it's alright-- she can relax, do her job. This is what she's been trained for.

[utselet]

She follows, though it's hard for her to relax, even with Elizabeth at her side. She at least manages to keep the frown from her face, but Elizabeth can likely feel the nervous tension radiating off of her.

Ahead, the mountie and his friend walk, seemingly oblivious to their tail, chatting happily. Or maybe happily. There seems to be a lot of gesticulating happening.

[yedinyy]

She glances at Nina, but as long as she's not doing anything stupid she isn't going to help her-- she needs to learn how to deal with this. This tension, this sudden shift from normal to work. It's important.

The two men round a corner and step into a building marked Canadian Consulate, and it lets Elizabeth relax for a second, able to talk to her companion.

"We need a car to follow them," she whispers. "I doubt they'll walk to our mark. You keep your eyes on the door while I get us one."

Steal us one, she means, same difference.