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#this isnt like. kinnporsche cast as spies btws. its kinnporsche if it were set in the kingsman universe
snickerdoodlles · 2 years
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im telling myself no new fics until i finish some of the wips burning a hole in my drive folders, but i can’t get this kinnporsche kingsman AU out of my head, so sneak peek at the start of it:
“Sir.”
Kinn looks up from his morning coffee to see Big holding out an envelope. He sighs into his cup discreetly—he can tell the envelope isn’t any of the usual business, it’s too short and they don’t code anything in blue—oh, excellent, they’ve found his enigma. Kinn sets his coffee down calmly and takes the envelope with lazy grace, dignity immediately ruined when he rips the envelope in his eagerness to open it. He ignores the way Big fidgets at his shoulder and reads the citizen’s profile greedily.
Name: Porsche Pachara Kittisawasd, 43 DOB: DD-MM-1996 Status: Unmarried Dependants: One …
Kinn skims through the file quickly. There isn’t much worth reading; the file is mostly information compiled prior to V-Day. In fact, Kinn bets the only updates this file has seen in the past seven years is the list of deceased and the Number. It’s frustratingly thin—Kinn would kill for a picture of his man, even if he can acknowledge printer tech still isn’t what it used to be and Arm sadly has more important requisitions he’s still waiting for—but at least the man exists as something more than the smell of smoke and fever bright memories, now.
Kinn flips back to the first page of the file. His fingertip lingers over the man’s name—Porsche, he thinks, rolling the sounds around in his mind—before he taps the section thoughtfully. “Who’s his dependent?”
“One younger brother.”
Kinn frowns in surprise. “Age?”
“Seventeen sir.”
Huh.
He taps the file again idly as he thinks. “This is all the information you’ve found on him?”
Big hesitates, and Kinn sighs silently. He, Papa, and Vegas had worked extensively after V-Day to rebuild the city’s administration, but his quick skim through Porsche’s schooling and employment sections show the signs of someone that had fallen through the cracks of society even before everyone tried to kill each other. The number of suicides in the first few months post V-Day alone made updating the city’s census nigh impossible, nevermind the nightmare of trying to find employees to do it in the two years following the event—it’s little surprise to discover Porsche has been close to lost ever since those cracks had turned to canyons.
“Sir,” Big says, hesitant and odd. Kinn frowns up at him, and Big squirms awkwardly under the attention before he steels himself, “Arm insists you read his notes on the last page.”
Kinn’s frown deepens—since when is Arm not direct? Or Big, for that matter. Big shifts uncomfortably again, and Kinn flips back to the last page, wary.
Arm’s notes aren’t long at all. Just a small note of, has never held a license, hastily scribbled in pen and smeared sideways by highlighter.
Kinn blinks. He flips back to the first page, eyebrows rising and fingertips lingering besides Porsche’s name. “He’s never owned a car?”
“No sir, never. It’s harder to say for certain, but Arm’s equally confident the man’s never owned any sort of firearm either.”
Kinn freezes, briefly, before he breathes out slowly and looks at the file in new light. He feels Big relax in the face of his surprise, and tries to feel bad for the poor man. Big’s easy to read as ever—his concern and wariness giving way to open relief as Kinn reads through Porsche’s file with more care—but Kinn has too much heart to warn him he’s more intrigued than worried over the revelation. Let the man have a few moments of peace before Kinn continues his pursuit. Big’s certainly earned it.
Kinn flips back to the first page and stares at the first line, willing it to crack open and spill its secrets.
Porsche Pachara Kittisawasd.
43.
How very, very curious indeed.
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