@apotheois​  says : ' lacroix. visits of this nature should be unnecessary. ' though the tone of her voice is chastising, nothing short of a sigh of disappointment. she holds the widow's chin in place with her palm, dabbing astringent over the abrasions marring what would otherwise be a perfect cheek. ' you are fortunate the mission was successful, otherwise the scolding would be coming from everyone aside from me. '

there is a deadness behind her eyes now :  a lingering ravenous rot that eats at floral bloom--  corrosive in its noxious,  gnawing take over.  ( who are you ? ) inquiry haunted weaponized mind.  at times when she couldn’t quite get to sleep, she asked herself that very question,  over and over again.  until it was raw on her tongue.  at purely clinical contact amélie nearly flinches.  perfect posture,  palms settling at her sides.  chilled honey dares not dart toward dual coloured optics,  lacking the pride to do so.    ❝   --𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞,  𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛.  ❞  heavily accented vocalization lacked remorse;  however,  tinged with someone else.  a taint of shame,  a tinge of fear.   remembering the shock to her synapsis as amélie was buried beneath horrific trauma.  the equation seemed bitterly simple : execute the mission,  take down each target associated with said mission,  go back to base.  report,  go back to her holding rooms if there was no cause to be sent to medical.  ( repeat / repeat  ) nearly machine-like,  lacking the comforts of humanity.  apparently,  those too could be earned on good behavior. 

---------𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣. 

she didn’t actually succeed in the mission.  ( her mentor was still out there,  while not on the radar.  ana lived.  )  there was a precise spot a bullet could clearly ebb through without doing damage to the brain. lacking eye, filled with fury.  her breath quivers as it leaves her lips; anxiety growing so much that the tips of her fingers began to feel a slight numbness.  the more those thoughts crept through built-up defenses the more she felt growing guilt.  ( no, no -- swallow it ! ) what would the doctor think if she knew the truth?  would there be another admittance to the finality of reconditioning?  taking back the protection gratefully placed upon exhausted limbs? in truth,  the assassin did not know how to predict redhaired scientist. no matter how often they were together,  no matter how often moira was observed. 

❝   noted, I will attempt to refrain from becoming wounded in the future. my target was unpredictable when cornered, doctor.   ❞