Piano keys were her childhood, but the grasp of a pistol was her reality. Polish SOE Agent, Natia Filipska, has lurked among the rubble and the shadows of her occupied-Warsaw for years, ever since the war started and ripped her from the life that ha...
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" Rome has grown since its humble beginnings that it is now overwhelmed by its own greatness."
- Titus Livius
｡↷ ✧*̥₊˚‧☆ﾐ
Outskirts of Nuenen, Holland
September 18th, 1944
2100
Agent Mortem was never kind, but she supposed it was from his time as a child, when others would laugh at him for the way he ran. Sideways, with a cane, he moved amongst the shadows of the schoolyard, cowering in their gazes, at the limp leg he'd been born with. He laughed years later in their faces when he managed to become an Agent and they hadn't. It's why she only ever worked with him in a secret study, his tips, his ideals, his morals, being tracked like a sensor in her mind. It's why she was trained to be so deadly - because it was like he was seeing himself - all over again, in herself.
Agent Mortem had taken her from the scraps and turned her into the war-machine War had always deemed fit for his tasks.
But Agent Mortem was the reason she was like this - so numb, so distant, so deadly, so broken.
Walking back through the field of American soldiers, her face remained in that cold, permanent frown, helmet tipped over her eyes, and her arms gated across her chest, hugging closely to herself as she moved. She knew people were looking at her, watching her every move, studying her, whispering about her. They didn't think she could hear them, but she heard every word that left their mouths, and it only made her blood boil more.
Upon arriving back at the foxhole, she found George sitting, quietly eating a K-ration, eyes dazed off forward. Natia's pace slowed as she watched George, this seemingly, happy-go-lucky sort of guy, always grinning, cracking a joke or two, checking up on his friends, sitting off all alone. Something in her heart fell, like the tip had just been cracked off.
Suddenly, she saw herself amongst the tables in her SOE training, sitting all alone at a darkened table in the corner, people sitting with friends at the other tables, joyful, happy, proud. She haf barely touched the soup in front of her. Natia slowly cleared her throat and then took a few steps forward.
George was the one to look up at the sound of her footfalls and notice her coming back towards him - he even smiled a bit. He had bravery if he were to smile in the face of Death.
" Hey," George said as Natia forced a smile on her face before sitting down beside George, about 2 feet in between them. Natia sat quietly beside George, remaining more still than she had ever been before. But something about not being alone and having George's presence by her side meant more than anything in the world at the current moment.
