reyesmateo

[reyesmateo]

( Irina ):

She watched his nervousness from where she was, leaning in the doorway.  At his response, she rolled her eyes (though she knew he would recognize that it was good-natured).

She grabbed the kettle from the shelf and started to fill it with water.  The talk he had with Isaac when he returned from the hospital must not have gone well, if he was this antsy.  With a wide yawn, she gestured him away from the stove and started up the fire.   “What are you even making?  It smells nice.  Also, how are you even standing right now?”

     ❝It’s not like I’m able to sleep at the moment❞ Mateo admitted with a shrug, he would only keep tossing and turning, so better put that energy and restlessness to good use, they could always use more food around, and while his cooking needs some improving —no complains, but he knows he can do better— his baking if he’s being modest, has always been stellar. With a smirk on his face Mateo steps to the side to let Irina work the kettle. ❝It’s a new recipe I found, apple pie donuts❞ Mateo said proudly sounding like he had completely lost it, maybe he had, ❝drugs❞ spite probably, ❝I have to take a bunch of them❞ he said with a dismissive hand gesture.

      ❝Why are you up?❞ he asked raising an eyebrow, he was glad it had been Irina the one that had walked in to find him in this state, she was the one he didn’t mind seeing this side of him, the one where he didn’t have things figured out, where he was barely holding it together, everyone else, everyone else believed him to be the man with all the answers, always with a plan, but he didn’t mind Irina seeing how flawed he really was. ❝How bad was it? Everything that I missed...❞ it wasn’t that they were keeping things from him, but Mateo had a feeling they didn’t want him to feel worse, the freezing to death had been his fault, and what he had just told Isaac certainly complicated things, that topic had taken over most of the conversation, so he had missed a lot of things.

#//mateo: i don't like to complain #also mateo: and you know what else?! #int; irina

[reyesmateo]

( Tess​ ):

His remark caught her by surprise, making her chuckle a quite a bit. “I feel like the gentrification isn’t an issue you have to concern yourself with just yet.” It was only a couple of houses that had been renovated to attract a little more well-off people and these houses were still what many would call ‘shabby chic’. When he entered, she offered to take his coat and hung it up before she gave his question some thought. “Probably a mix of hardwood floors and my upbringing. Where I’m from it’s custom to take off your shoes when visiting other people or at least offer to take them off. I had, however, never considered all the reasons people do it so I learned something new today.” Leading him down the short hallway, she walked into the kitchen. “So, this is obviously the kitchen, where Evie surprisingly cooks sometimes, which I truly appreciate since I’m rather bad at it.” Cooking was definitely not one of her (innumerable) strengths. “Can I offer you anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water? Maybe we even have some orange juice left in the fridge. It’s the least I could do after I made you come all the way here.” 

-

     The smile on his face grew when he heard her chuckle, his reaction had obviously intended to tease her, but deep down even if he knew change could be good, specially if it brought a better source of income for some, a part of him, the one that often gets attached too quickly, would certainly miss the old facades, and places that would probably go when the inevitable happens. It is after all the nature of all things, evolve or die. But now was not the time to think about that, so Mateo pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, he would back to that at a latter time. ❝We are both learning so much today❞ he said in reference to the little glimpse he caught of Tess’ past. Mateo followed Tess to the kitchen, and raised an eyebrow at her words, as far as he knew Theresa Martin could do everything, ❝you are bad at cooking and yet you made all the right choices❞ he said motioning to the room, ❝or was it already equipped when you got it? Somehow I don’t see Evie making home decor choices❞ he let out a small laugh, ❝coffee would be great❞ Mateo smiled at Tess, ❝and I truly don’t mind coming here, I just... I don’t know I want to believe we’ve done our best to make sure your office is top of the line...❞

#Theresa Martin #int; tess

[reyesmateo]

@prizedfox , @irina-of-volkova , and most people in his life tbh

#evelina morozova #irina volkova #a soft heart in a cruel world; musings

[reyesmateo]

Kitch and Bitch

TIME: 3:08 AM, July 23th LOCATION: Reaper Hideout Kitchens Closed for @reyesmateo​

Irina walked quietly down the halls towards the kitchens, silently cursing Mateo for introducing her to late night tea and saving some choice words for herself for liking it.  It had been a long day and she wanted nothing more than to just get the kettle going on some chamomile and then make her way back to get some sleep.

The smell of something pleasant wafting in the air made her slow down and pause, her tired brain working to process what exactly it was.  Her first thought was to the first day she stepped into her adoptive guardian’s house, warm and comforting.  Baked goods.  Mateo.

Mateo had just gotten back from the hospital for goodness’ sake.  Irina knew why she was still up.  What was his excuse?  She rounded the corner and put on her best disapproving face.

“Excuse me, sir.  Shouldn’t you be resting?  It’s three in the morning.”

     It had been a long day, but then again Mateo had been having a couple of weeks of long days. That shooting was the one that started it all, from then on it seemed they were on a nosedive. He had been sure there were things left to uncover, he had been naive to think the police had done any job at finding them, assuming they would keep things from the public, even going to the extent of covering things up. But it turned out the police was their usual incompetent selves. And when Mateo had tried to get answers. Well the answers had not been easy to understand. And they were dangerous.

     Maybe the shock and horror of they had seen on the side of the mountain contributed to their bodies keeping the adrenaline running long enough for them to be rescued for eighteen hours? impossible that voice in the back of his head said again, the logic part of him, but there was no time to dwell on that, he was just going to have to go the doctors and nurses route and call it a miracle. The conversation he had with Isaac —more of an interrogation really— had left him restless. While Mateo feared Masha’s threat on his loved ones, he also trusted Isaac, knowing his leader was not going to act on an impulse. 

     There was rarely anything that helped with Mateo’s nerves, but baking always did the trick, so there he was in the early hours of the morning rambling to himself in the hideout’s kitchen. While there was always those coming and going from missions, or those trying to catch some sleep, Mateo didn’t think anyone would pay any attention until the baked goods were ready to go. So he was startled by Irina’s voice. ❝Jesus Irina, you scared me❞ he said with a nervous laugh, his usual hyper-vigilance taking a rest in the security of their headquarters. ❝I was on bed rest for a week, trust me, I need to be moving again...❞ he said as an excuse, but knowing Irina she might see through it.

#irina volkova #int; irina

[reyesmateo]

( Adelaide )​:

There was something familiar about the voice of the person she’d bumped into — a familiarity that was the only thing she had for a few heartbeats, until her eyes finally looking at the man that was helping her gather her things. “I don’t think it did,” Adelaide began, “but if it had, it would have been a big loss.” Not only for her (because to lose any of her designs could easily be equated to her losing a part of herself) but for the Angels. 

Whoever knew her, knew how young she’d been when she joined, so assuming she was ride or die for the gang wasn’t that far fetched — it was a logical leap and, no matter how many counter-arguments Adelaide could find to refute that premise, there was still the possibility that it could be true to anyone on the outside. So, why was it that every time she saw someone from the opposite gang, she didn’t seem to feel as against them as the rest of her Angel family? 

Adelaide looking at her old friend up and down before she spoke. “Mateo,” she began, adjusting her backpack, “long time no see.” Maybe. Adelaide wasn’t that good at keeping track of time — sometimes she’ll think it’s early night and be almost dawn. Sometimes she’ll think it’s still the weekend and it will be the middle of the week. “You look good for someone that almost became a Ripper popsicle.” Adelaide had heard all about Mateo’s rodeo with the unforgiving cold; at that point, who hadn’t?

-

     With a small smile Mateo said, ❝I would even venture to call it a terrible loss❞ recognizing her as soon as his eyes landed on her. Mateo knew there wasn’t a soul within the Reapers who would ever dare to question his loyalty, sure many would assume it was to Isaac —sure he would certainly follow him until the end of the world— but Isaac knew, the Orlovas knew, that Mateo’s loyalty ran far deeper than that, it wasn’t just to one person, but towards the organization as a whole. 

     The Reapers were a part of him, he had been short of raised by them, but they had shaped his childhood, they were in his blood, with his father having been a member, but also Mateo saw the impact they had in the community, for those who had been forgotten by the world, the Reapers always had a helping hand. So then why was it that Mateo found himself in constant company of Angels?

     ❝Hey Addie❞ he said using the nickname he had given her in their childhood, sure she liked Addy or whatever, but there was a slight tone to the way he said it, plus in the notes he wrote for her it was always Addie, ❝a long time indeed...❞ he smiled at her again, he was an only child, and with his father gone most of the time many would think he was a lonely child, but life gave him family —not by blood, but something stronger, by choice. Mateo chuckled, he still had a hard time believing what had happened to them, at times it didn’t seem real, but it was, he had endangered Anastasia because he needed answers. 

    ❝I still can’t believe our rescue made the news❞ which thank God it did, there was no way they could’ve recovered at HQ, the only way to save them was Rosnovy Medical, but that was Angel territory, not that the general public knowing the two lost climbers who miraculously survived were being treated there was any guarantee to their safety, he knew that better than anyone, but it still helped. ❝You look good❞ healthy, in one piece, safe, ❝how have you been? Let me get you another cup, it was partially my fault after all.❞  

#adelaide leclair #int; adelaide

[reyesmateo]

mateo reyes & social media   → his personal phone

while most reapers’ official businesses are done over burner phones set to erase all data with a simple command, mateo does keep a personal phone, which he mostly uses to get reminded of things. so he never minds if people go through it.

#prochnosttask003 #prochnosttalk #//i had to wake up at 6am for a training on a platform that my subject is not even gonna use so have another edit *shrug emoji* #click on each picture for a better look!! i'm gonna get food and then i'll do replies!!! #a soft heart in a cruel world; musings #you don’t need a reason to save people; about

[reyesmateo]

mateo reyes & social media   → pinterest 

#prochnosttalk #prochnosttask003 #//woops this is like two pinterest updates ago but it is what it is #click on the picture for a better look!! #a soft heart in a cruel world; musings #you don’t need a reason to save people; about

[reyesmateo]

#//look at this dork ugh #the thing is he does wear those ridiculous sweaters around HQ. i am angry why is he like that?! #there’s bravery in being soft; face

[reyesmateo]

( Theresa​ ):

Opening the door, Tess couldn’t help the smile on her lips at the sight of Mateo - once more he was wearing something she had picked out for him. Maybe she had done it only because she had been quite impressed with the results the last time, at the festival. “The likes of you? Very dapper looking gentleman?” A smirk on her lips, she leaned into the doorframe, revelling a little (too much) in his slight awkwardness. Then she stepped back with a laugh, opening the door further so he might come in. “Seriously though, I live with Evie, they won’t be shocked by much.” Truly, after all Evie went in and out to every time of the day or night, in various degrees of inebriation. “And it’s still the South, even though you might not want to believe that.” Her tone was teasing, since she knew he would hardly call this sort of upcycled neighborhood part of the South he had grown up in.  “I’m of course going to give you the grand tour but would you mind terribly to take off your shoes? We have a strict no shoe policy here.” 

-

      It was hard not to keep a smile on, while it was clear that Tess was very much enjoying this, Mateo couldn’t really be angry about it, there was a part of him that didn’t mind dressing up —although he would rather swim the Frozen Run that admit it, or even let anyone suspect it— so he just shook his head and crinkled his nose at her witty remark. ❝Yeah I kinda wish they would tone it down with the gentrification...❞ Mateo laughed and followed Theresa inside. He was glad not to be wearing his boots, because he could take off his coat and the shoes, that Theresa had also picked, at the same time. ❝Okay, I feel like I just have to ask, hardwood floors? belief system? or just overall cleanliness?❞ he said motioning towards the shoes he had just left by the door, ❝I had a very rich childhood, those formative years are the reason I contain multitudes❞ he joked, his essence woven by the multicultural community he had been raised by, he often managed to surprise himself by the things hidden in the back of his mind. 

#int; tess

[reyesmateo]

( Evelina​ ):

The moment that Evie had heard that Mateo had been missing after his mission, Evie’s heart had dropped. She might not have always illustrated her true emotions and how she felt about people except for Tess, and by extension Mateo, but she couldn’t imagine a life where Mateo wasn’t a part of it. Especially since he had such a profound affect upon her life, changing it drastically. Whilst part of Evie’s nature was to be a survivor, to fight with every last breath she had — perhaps without Mateo’s influence she could have died out upon the streets of Rosnovy. And that was a thought that continued to circle around her mind as she hoped that the team searching for both him and Anastasia would come back with fruitful news, and not with a devastating outcome.

Hearing the news through the grapevine that Mateo had appeared back at HQ, she immediately dropped all her current tasks to track him down, as she hadn’t had a chance as of yet to visit him yet at the hospital. And she wanted desperately to see him with her own two eyes to make sure that he was okay. And whilst she didn’t always vocalise this, how much she was glad that he had survived. Moving swiftly through the various rooms, her eyes flickered over the various occupants before noticing a familiar black crop of hair moving towards his usual room, as she began to follow his figure. Her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, she leant against the doorway frame as she took in every movement of his own; a searching for any lasting injuries that might have lasted. “Hey you. How are you feeling?” She asked, with an uncharacteristic softness in her voice as she stepped closer towards the other.

-

      There had always been a certainty to his actions, a feeling of knowing that the things he did he did out of love. For every poster that had been stapled to lamppost, handwritten because the police would not cast a second glance at the missing, not when they came from the neighborhoods of Southern Rosnovy. Everything Mateo did he did for six-year old Mateo missing the boy who always met him at the swings, for fourteen-year old Mateo missing the girl who always asked if he had an extra pencil, for every person he had never saw again. The eighteen hours everyone claimed he had missing —they had been missing, and that was perhaps what bothered him the most. That this time it had not just been him the one placed in danger in his quest for answers, he had risked Anastasia’s life, they had survived by a miracle, everyone was calling it that, a miracle, and the thing was Mateo did believe in miracles. 

       ❝I’m not gonna lie, I’m kinda missing that sweet morphine drip❞ Mateo joked, he didn’t know if there was going to be any lasting damage, he wanted to test his powers but even the small task of making it to his room was already making him feel short of breath —God he hoped it wasn’t going to be his lungs— but until he for sure figured out how messed up he was, there was no need to worry, himself or others, so he smiled at Evelina. Everything was going to be alright, he willed himself not to think about Masha’s threat, or the thing that had brought on that threat. The scene at Mt. Snovier. ❝I’m going to be okay, I just slept more than ever had in my entire life so I’m really well rested...❞ he let out a small laugh, big mistake, now he was coughing. ❝What about you? How’s everything, what have I missed?❞  

#int; evie

[reyesmateo]

       To say that things were bad would be an understatement, and Mateo felt that he was responsible to making it even worse. When he let himself dwell on the things he had done —as well as the things he had not— the guilt threatened to consume him from the inside. Sure it could also be his internal organs barely recuperating from the whooping eighteen hours out on the unforgiving cold of Mt. Snovier, but when he thought of that he thought of how it had been his fault that Anastasia had shared the same fate, and so he just ended up feeling guilty anyways. But he was back now, and he was going to fix everything. 

      Before he could actually be of help he had to get better, not that anyone back at HQ cared if he was taking it slow, but he would rather they not see him fail when he tried to test his strength. Mateo had been flying a little bit further every day since he came back from the hospital, today making it as far as Central Rosnovy. He was happy with the results, no evident exhaustion like the first time he tried it after being back from the hospital, so he felt like rewarding himself with an obnoxiously sugary drink. Just as he made it to the coffee shop something across the street caught his eye, and in the split second he turned to look, Mateo bumped against someone.

      With barely enough time to jump back and avoid being burned by the coffee, Mateo saw the mess their collision had caused, ❝don’t apologize, I feel like that was fifty percent my fault❞ he said with a small smile and bent down to help pick up what had scattered along the street, ❝here, I hope the coffee didn’t ruin your notes❞ he said handing back a notebook, finally looking at the person.

TIME: July 23rd 2020, 9:34 AM LOCATION: Central Rosnovy, outside a coffee shop STATUS: Open

A lot of shit had happened the last few weeks and although Adelaide cared about those that had gotten hurt, she couldn’t understand the overwhelming sense of loyalty that so many of her colleagues shared. Sometimes she wondered who was wrong  — the one that was ride-or-die for the gang or the one that felt little loyalty to those that have given her so much. Either way, Adelaide’s mind didn’t dwell on it for too long because there was a chance neither of them was wrong (or right) and she had other stuff to worry about. Like her next design. 

Walking down the street, it was hard to miss the tension in the air and she could think of a couple of people that would scorn her for going out just to buy a cup of coffee. Sure, tensions were high but her need for good coffee was higher. After getting her morning coffee, she walked out of the coffee shop with a cup in one hand and her backpack barely hanging on the opposite shoulder. Adelaide blew into the cup; she wasn’t impatient, per se, but when she felt like she might just fall asleep on her feet, she could deal with a half-burned tongue. Before she could take a sip of the dark beverage, she bumped into someone. 

“Shit.” Coffee on the floor, some contents of her backpack hanging out, including her designs notebook (coveted, no doubt, though those that ever thought of getting their hands on it would soon realize how impossible it is to read unless your name is Adelaide Leclair)… it was a mess and a half. “Sorry, I’m half-asleep and caffeine-deprived,” Adelaide began without really looking at who she bumped into before crouching down to gather the stuff that fell.

#adelaide leclair #int; adelaide

[reyesmateo]

@irina-of-volkova

#//omg rosa and jake are the perfect irina and mateo brotp inspo #irina volkova #a soft heart in a cruel world; musings

[reyesmateo]

( Masha )​:

Time was of the essence. Guards - no matter how stupid - returned eventually. Yet Masha waited in silence, allowed him a few generous moments of composure. He awoke like startled prey, looked so fragile, so demeaned, that despite her anger she averted her gaze as he adjusted his tubing. Instead, her eyes traced along the wiring that stemmed from his chest, followed them to the cardiac monitor. It betrayed his reactions, illustrated the sharp, panicked increase of his heart rate. Smart man. Fear was the only rational response. His medical file hung from the end of his bed tantalisingly, and she reached for it with an almost bored nonchalance, flicked through it on her lap. Over 18 hours in the freezing snow. Her eyes narrowed. By all accounts this fallen bird should be dead. Yet destiny apparently had different plans, stole him from one fate only to place him into the lap of Masha Vetrova. She could not help but agree with destiny in this instance - such a death wouldn’t have brought the agreed upon justice.

When he finally spoke, the words were not those she expected. In fact she’s surprised, though her face only showed her signature calm neutrality as she stared unblinkingly at him. Mateo might have looked a pathetic state, but his words were far from it. There’s no pleading, no begging. Not even explanation - just the perpetuation of the Reaper narrative and senseless accusations. Really, she could only hope that her own would maintain such unnecessary loyalty in their last moments. But there’s something off about it, an earnestness that grated against her assumptions. The man had just regained consciousness, and Masha had been quietly increasing the level of morphine being pumped into his blood from the moment she stepped in. He should not be able to lie with such ease, to weave a false narrative with such conviction. It was near-enough physically impossible. 

He cannot have known the impact of his next words. If she was already unsure (a state she was from used to), then his next words changed the agenda. On the side of the mountain, she could have killed us. In her gut, Masha knew which ‘she’ he referred to. It was not a ‘she’ Masha wanted to hear from any Reapers’ mouth. Her anger, previously silent and controlled, became more visible - the narrowing of her eyes, the stiffening of her posture. Suddenly she had come not to seek retribution for a disrupted festival, but to ensure that Mr Reyes knew exactly when to shut his fucking mouth. It didn’t all add up, didn’t make sense to her, but it didn’t need to. “I’d think very carefully before asking such questions, Mr Reyes,” she asserted sharply, rising from her chair with undisguised agitation and flipping open his file. “Severe hypothermia resulting in organ failure,” she read, flashing him a dangerous smile, “It sounds like you’ve had some vivid hallucinations, I’m not surprised.” 

Time was of the essence. Masha dropped the file into the seat she had just vacated, walked gracefully over his bedside and crouched, levelling her own head with his. She paused, sighed as if this whole interaction had been taxing on her. “I’m not here to kill you, Mr Reyes”, she murmured into his ear (a half-truth, she had been), “but whatever you think you saw had nothing to do with you, with this. So tell Faulkner, tell whoever you’ve told, that you don’t remember, that it was just a dream.” Just her luck, his little speech had been insightful. This was not a man who feared death, but a man quick to point out his solitude in what he had witnessed. A man who cared. “For if I catch wind of these rumours, I will personally place a bullet into the brain of those you care for. And that won’t be because of some ancient war, because of Faulkner or Yelena. It will be entirely because of you.”

-

     Mateo had always believed he would greet death like an old friend, it was after all the essence of the Reapers, what was it that they said? when God is gone, and the Devil takes hold, who will have mercy on your soul? He was ready, he had tried his best, done his best, he was ready for his heart to be weighted, to greet St. Peter at the pearly gates. When Mateo was sixteen he was hastily taking notes, not wanting to miss a word his AP science teacher was saying, ‘when all is said and done, it all comes down to this, the first law of thermodynamics, the amount of matter and energy in the universe has been constant since the Big Bang, this is perhaps the single thing most religions agree upon, that there’s life after death —paradise, reincarnation, eternal life, we are after all made of stardust, a thousand generations live in us, the gladiators of old, the philosophers from the age of enlightenment, comets and whale tooth, dinosaurs, the very water that created life on earth, and we die we will go on to become part of something else, life doesn’t end with death...’ Mateo clung to those words, to every time someone had told him that you never truly die as long as there is someone to remember you, would anyone put an altar for him on the day of the dead? Mateo wished he had remained brave until the end, but the sounds coming from the machine made it clear, his heart had betrayed him.

      His eyes were growing heavy, maybe it was better this way, no pain, he thought as he felt himself drift off, no, something willed him to stay awake, to focus, ❝are you a hallucination?❞ Mateo said to Masha, her voice sounded so far away, and yet as if she was whispering in his ear. She wasn’t there to kill him, that was odd, she could end his life and there would be nothing he could do about it, not even call out for help, no resistance, he wanted to close his eyes so badly. Her next words, now those were enough to bring him back, almost a whiplash, as he was now focused on her threat. Mateo was not afraid of dying, but who would keep safe those he left behind? Once again the machines in the room revealed just how aware of the situation he was, fear, it was taking over him, and he felt helpless. A tear slid down his cheek, Father give me strength, ❝please❞ he said, ❝I- I don’t remember anything❞ but he did, and he had told people as much as he had remembered, and he had mumbled all the ambulance ride, and he had told Isaac, and Antonio, and what if Ana told anyone? Mateo was many things, but he was not a liar, how could he do this? How could he keep anyone safe? ❝a fire, shadows❞ he said struggling to focus, what was happening to him? ❝then the darkness... that’s it, that’s all... darkness, and the cold... only the cold❞ he said, it was true after all, he wasn’t lying, after all Rozalie Voight was cold itself.

#//mateo is like: is dying back on the table or? #int; masha #hospital tw

[reyesmateo]

( Sofia )​:

    His voice - the cadence, the clarity - is different, but that’s to be expected. Sofia wonders how much of it can be attributed to the ungodly hour that she’s decided to visit him, and how much of it is from something far more serious. As savage as the blood feud between their respective clans, the relentless Revdan snow always strikes to remind them of who their real threat is - of what they should truly be afraid of. The relentless cruelty of nature, as only one divine being can will it. “Wouldn’t call today a holy occasion,” she remarks, her voice sardonic. She’s got no illusions or delusions about the reputation that follows her like a haunted shadow. Her eyes want to stray over to meet his, to assess the extent of his injuries - to assess what a future threat he’ll be when they must inevitably face each other again - but that would force her to acknowledge the truth of their relationship: that she’s found a kindred soul in who she’s been told should be her enemy.

    And speaking of enemies -

    “I do recall that it says a lot about enemies, so you’ll have to be more specific,” she murmurs, a humorless smile growing upon her lips as she leans back into the chair as if she owns the place - as if she belongs here. “You’ve nothing to worry about. Not today. Not right now. Consider this… a social call.” Enemies. That’s what they are. That’s the path that’s been chosen for them, ordained for them. Was there any choice to this? Was there ever any choice for either of them - to love who they love, to protect who they must, to carry forth their assigned purpose? She should ask him how he fares, how he feels, if he is well. Perhaps, in another life - where she is kind and bright and gentle and good - she might have. She might have pulled a blanket and draped it over him for warmth, might have tended to him, so that the flowers she’s left in his room wouldn’t feel so damn hollow. Perhaps in another life, but not in this one. In this one, she only knows how to question and press and prod and wreck until there’s nothing left but ruin. “You’d best hope that you’re well enough to attend come Sunday again.” A well-wish that rings like a threat. She cocks her head to the side then, and lets a moment pass before she speaks once more. “If not, I’ll come back here, and I’ll bring the service to you.” And that is certainly a threat. “Wouldn’t want your soul forsaken or tarnished by poor attendance, right?”

-

      The room is dark, so Mateo is sure his smirk would be lost to the night, or whatever time it actually is, but he still smirks at her words. Not a holy occasion, of course not, but it still feels like one, or Mateo forces himself to think of it that way, because that is the only reason this —whatever this is, happens. They are not friends, far from it actually, but there are other things ( holy things ), things most people wouldn’t understand binding them. ❝Lord let all my enemies be greatly troubled❞ Mateo recites, or tries his best to, his voice still so far from what it usually sounds like, ❝or something like that, I’m paraphrasing❞ he jokes. 

      Enemies, the word hungs heavy in the air, but Mateo knows he had to remind himself of what they are, no amount of peace be with you would ever change that.  I know, Mateo wants to say, because he does know, that this is different, that even if the reasonable reaction would be to call for help, to wonder what she could do to him, Mateo knows that’s not why she is here. A social call, she called it, so he just nods. If things were the other way around, would he try to see her? and he knows the answer even before considering that the only reason she is able to slip in, virtually undetected is because this is Angels territory, he would try anyways, because that’s what it means to be a part of a community. 

     There is a part of him that wants to turn, to see her face, to thank her for being there, but that is not what they do, they fight each other, they sit on opposite sides of the pew, and they let a few members of the congregation come between them in the communion queue. Mateo chuckles, ❝from what I’ve been able to gather it is a miracle I’m alive❞ he tries to shake his head, forgetting he is hooked to so many things, and has to rearrange whatever he managed to move, ❝I seem to always miss the doctors, but I did manage to hear one say we should’ve died out there❞ his tone cheerfully sarcastic, the oxygen tube making it almost impossible to snort, but Mateo knows Sofia would enjoy the humorous touch, ❝so of course I’ll be out by Sunday, but if not, you would bring me the hostia right? I do believe I’ll be excused on account of poor health...❞ 

#//i love her so much!!! mateo is terrified of her; but i love her #int; sofia

[reyesmateo]

july 19th, midmorning reaper’s hideout icarus & fox (( @prizedfox ))

     As Mateo finished signing his discharge papers he heard a noise at the door and tried to hide his disappointment when it turned out to be the nurse, ‘I’m sorry Mr. Reyes but your clothes had to be cut off by the paramedics, and there’s no record of any other belongings’ Mateo nodded and tried to kept a smile on his face, he shouldn’t be surprised, or angry for that matter, they had traveled light, not even their usual burner phones, it was and off the books mission after all, and it had almost cost them their lives, but Mateo had hoped to at least get his jacket or his boots. ❝Thank you anyways nurse...?❞ he said handing her the clipboard with the papers, trying not to sound angry. ‘Paulina- Safronova... I- uh I did manage to find you these’ the nurse said giving him a paper bag, Mateo tried to control his facial expressions as he pulled out a very bright red fleece hoodie with ROSNOVY MEDICAL in big white letters plastered across the front, ❝oh- uh thanks, these are great❞ at least the sweatpants were gray, Mateo found comfort in that, ‘I’m sorry they really are all I could find’ Mateo gave her a genuine smile, ❝it’s okay, more than okay really, I’m just disappointed there were no matching sweatpants❞ he joked, ‘oh there were, but you are going to have to wear the slippers so I’m just trying to save as much of your dignity as possible’ the nurse said and they both laughed. 

      It was going to be a long way home, Mateo thought as he walked across the hospital lobby, he regretted not calling a cab, what was he going to do exactly? Fly home? He would freeze, again. Thankfully before he reached the doors one of the younger members ran up to him, a sigh of relief escaped him and Mateo raised an eyebrow, ‘I’m so glad I caught you sir, Mr. Faulkner would’ve killed me if I had missed you’ Mateo glared at him when half a dozen faces turned towards them, ❝let’s go❞ Mateo muttered grabbing the young reaper’s elbow and walking towards the door, nurse Safronova waved at him from the other side of the room, and Mateo waved back, ‘someone made a new friend’ the reaper teased, ❝really? that you notice but you couldn’t think to bring me a jacket?❞ Mateo said, playfully smacking the young reaper on the back of the head, ❝come on.❞ The ride was quiet, the young reaper had apologized for not bringing a jacket, or shoes, or a change of clothes, and made sure to turn up the heater all the way, so that Mateo would not freeze, that had been met with another glare. ❝Where are we going?❞ Mateo asked recognizing the street, ‘Tzar said to drive you to your apartment and keep you company’ the young reaper explained, ❝no...❞ Mateo said shaking his head, ❝let’s go to HQ.❞

      Maybe he was being paranoid, but the last thing Mateo needed was the blood of the young reaper on his hands, when the Angel paying him a visit slit his throat. Or perhaps he just didn’t want to be alone after almost dying, either way he felt safer at headquarters. There was so much Mateo had to do, starting by deciding what to do with what they had witness at the side of Mt. Snovier. Mateo headed for his room, for the last few years he had spent more time living here than at his place, this had always felt more home to him. As he looked for a change of clothes, he could only hope that Anastasia had fared better than him, she had been released earlier than him, his latest studies had shown some unusual strain on his heart, a result of Masha’s visit he was sure. Lost in his thoughts Mateo almost missed someone by the door, ❝oh, hey Evie.❞

#evelina morozova #int; evie #//no need to match i just started setting the scene and couldn't stop lmao

[reyesmateo]

      Mateo woke up for what felt like the millionth time, heart racing just like the first time he woke up to learn he was in the hospital, alive by some miracle after spending eighteen hours in the snow. He didn’t have a good grasp of how long he had been there, and every time he woke up he felt worse, the drugs certainly doing a number on him, but still every time he found someone in the room he asked about Anastasia, time and time again he was reassured she was doing good. He could not help but feel guilty, it was all his fault, there was no saying otherwise, it had been at his insistence that they had found themselves on the mountain to being with, after failing to get any answers from their break in into the police station. And while he knew Anastasia had followed him of her own accord, Mateo would never forgive himself for what their mission did to them. The darkness engulfing them, the cold, just thinking about that moment, when Mateo felt like it was going to be their last, he had never felt more lost and afraid, made his heart start to race again. 

       Thankfully the familiar voice of Antonio, always teasing, always joking, gave Mateo some form of comfort. But then again if Antonio was here, were they in danger? ❝Anastasia?❞ Mateo asked forgoing any kind of greeting, ❝is she okay, is everything alright?❞ he mumbled before fully taking in Antonio’s words, Mateo tried his best to sit up, ❝I’m pretty sure I’m loopy because I got the good drugs❞ he joked, had he really been talking nonsense the entire time? He hardly remember the times he managed to woke up. ❝What are you talking about? I love flowers❞ Mateo said pointing to the bright yellow flower arrangement set on one of the tables. ❝How bad is it?❞ Mateo asked, he knew Antonio would tell him the truth, ❝I’m sure I’ve asked before, I just don’t remember much...❞ and not just the part where they found them almost frozen to death, but what lead to them almost dying. There was something important he had to remember, but what exactly? Roses, it had something to do with roses... Mateo shook his head trying to get some clarity. A fire, darkness, cold.  ❝And I don’t just mean me, or Ana... but- you know, how did everything go?❞ everyone had had a mission, and Mateo had wasted his time breaking into the police station, and then he had dragged Ana to their almost deaths. A fire, roses? darkness, the cold.

date: july 15th, 5:40pm.  location: rosnovy medical. fourth floor. room 408. availability: open to @reyesmateo​.

He took a reprieve from Anastasia’s side. Kalev was there again to watch over her and Antonio found himself in dire need of a good stretch of his legs. He’d been pent up in that tiny ass, super uncomfy chair for too long and he’d excused himself to make a few walks around the hospital. The hallways were less organized and relaxed with such a high Reaper presence. He caught on to that vibe quickly. But it was still good for a much needed breather and a, he curls his nose up in disgust, black coffee. He’d much prefer one of these doctors to just stick an adrenaline shot straight into his bicep while he scoped out the place, looking for winged devils or peepers. None so far. Though, he knew it was more likely the most brazen had already attempted and fled back into the night. He wouldn’t have to worry again for maybe a good, he checks his wrist watch, twenty-four hours. 

On his fourth walk by, though, he noticed the door to Mateo’s room left ajar and the chair Isaac first occupied vacant. His first instinct was to go rigid; clench up and be ready for anything. But his second instinct, the one he listened to, was a slight understanding that there’d be a much bigger commotion in a place such as this if anything were wrong. He does one last double take down both ends of the hall anyways, on the off chance it wasn’t okay… Empty. Clear of anyone, even the medical staff and Isaac. Antonio gives one last worried glance towards Anastasia’s room then but Kalev was still there. She was in good hands. Not seeing anything out of place or no reason not to enter, he shoves his hands into his jean pockets as he strides into the open room, not as if he owned the place but more in a manner of that he gave not a single fuck what anyone had to say otherwise. Good luck trying to stop him. And walking in, he is greeted with a Mateo who is not asleep or mumbling nonsense about roses this time. He is awake and alert. Antonio doesn’t take the vacant chair, though. He does not want to be still anymore. And he didn’t feel like letting his ass go numb again thank you for much. “Well, good morning sleeping beauty,” he says lightheartedly. “About time you rejoined the world.” He cocks his head to the side then, narrowing his eyes in an overt once-over of the man. “You have rejoined us, right? You aren’t all loopy still? Or did you get the good drugs? And if you did, can I get some…? Just tell me if you can form a full sentence for us like: I love all my homies, but especially Isaac and I will not keep speaking nonsense on roses. What was up with all the roses talk anyways? I didn’t know you were a flower guy.”

#antonio martinez #int; antonio

[reyesmateo]

#//mateo every time he wakes up while at the hospital #a soft heart in a cruel world; musings