originallutece | ic contact;

[he's keeping track of his newfound acquaintances here--primarily because they're equal measures resourceful and pleasurable company. it's certainly been some time since harry's had anything close to friends outside of the job, but with kingsman removed from the equation....well.

rosalind lutece is one of particular interest, most especially since discovering the parallels between debts they owed to good men. she's clever and harry thinks he knows at least a part of her well enough from her mentioned work and interests to have some opinion on what's been happening around the city. most especially since he's just gotten an alarming call from eggsy, handling fucking patient zero and all.]

Good evening, Madam Lutece.

Have you been well, given all the commotion around here lately?

[Ah. Her tailor friend. She's still at the Institute, but she can take a few minutes to respond.]

More than, frankly. I've gone from no job to having a full caseload; it's quite enjoyable, though these aren't precisely the circumstances I'd have chosen to start my career here.

And yourself? Not ill, I trust?

I think most would be inclined to agree with you on that--though I'll extend congratulations for the start of it for you nonetheless.

I take it they've given you the necessary precautions for dealing with the cases--that they know of, anyhow?

[he's seen bruce here just the other day, and now he's got to contend with the potential of eggsy falling sick. but he's got to imagine there must be some developments on keeping this contained. maybe that's naively optimistic.]

I'm fine for the moment--though my apprentice is in the midst of a check-up. He's not feeling ill, but he made the executive decision to handle one of the patient zeros in the immediacy of the disaster.

Eggsy, yes?

[WHAT A SMALL WORLD . . .

It's impossible for texts to sound a touch exasperated, but nonetheless Harry might hear that radiating off her words.]

Yes, he told me. Heroic, I suppose, though he's lucky the symptoms have been relative mild thus far and that his immune system is apparently decent.

But yes, they have. As well as they can, anyway, given none of us understand the disease just yet. I feel rather like a plague doctor, desperately wearing a mask in the vague hopes I understand how it might be passed, prodding at my patients and hoping for the best.

Still. We've made strides. If nothing else, I believe I've found a way to make it noncontagious now.

That's the one.

[he's not sure it's a good thing she immediately knew, based on reckless albeit good intentions. harry is heaving out a long sigh on the other end of his device right now.]

I'm relieved to hear it hasn't had an affect on you, however, particularly considering all the work you're putting in. Impressive indeed--and surely only the beginning.

[he's being sincere, not flattering intentionally but if she's already worked to figure out a preventative measure she's obviously extremely good at what she does.]

I can only imagine what's being said behind closed doors at the Institute about the whole thing. A friend of mine overheard a rather alarming conversation, as a matter of fact.

Oh? I should hope you won't say that without elaborating.

I'll share if I can hope that we keep this between us, for now.

[well, and eggsy seeing as that's who he's heard it from at all, but that's irrelevant at the moment.]

[A little pause, and then:]

You have my word.

There was talk that all of this may have been an inside job--that someone at the Institute and perhaps even beyond that wanted this to happen.

[he's not going to outright declare that the empress may have been responsible--he's not going to get himself arrested for treason or some such by saying it on a network he can't entirely trust. he'd much rather be doing this in person, but needs must.]

What do you make of that?

[Well, she laughs, first and foremost; a short, humorless thing that wouldn't have escaped her if she hadn't been alone.]

I think that I proposed something like that theory a few days ago. Though I personally blamed our dear Empress, but certainly someone at the Institute must have been involved. Someone very clever, frankly; they'd have to be for me not to be able to solve this entire mystery yet.

What I couldn't understand was why she'd flee.

[well, that lends even more suspicion to...all of this. what harry can't place is motive. he's briefly considered it as a way to test all the new additions to this world--to see where their loyalties lie up front rather than waiting for it to manifest somehow. but why go to the trouble of saving them all from certain death at the end of the world only to infect them? it has to be something more political; something to gain between olympia and wyver--or at least that's what he thinks.]

I don't doubt it--pulling one over you and all the exceptional minds that have flocked to help is no easy feat.

There were a few mutterings of bribery--donations to a secret fund. Whether they meant the Institute itself or the Empress' pocket I can't tell, and neither could my contact's source.

Her absence in the face of a crisis doesn't bode well as a leader. There's too many moving parts here to get a pinpoint on it, but I fear we've yet to see the worst of whatever's coming.

[a grim prospect in the face of many others falling sick.]

[My contact's source, she notes, and wonders why a tailor would have such a thing.]

What do you imagine might occur?

I can only speculate--far less informed than anyone else--but where I come from in 2014 London there have been some dreadful terror attacks. And the pattern is often to just...keep them coming. No predictability, just the largest amount of casualties possible while innocent people are just doing their day to day activities. Throw in a biochemical weapon, and I don't think they'll have wanted to manufacture it without not having a back up, do you?

I just don't think we've seen the last of them, confession or no.

As for the Empress, I can't imagine she wouldn't have something to hide given the circumstances at this point.

ic contact;

text | un: h.devere

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