for i am born to be what i must be and i must be.

[obediences]

WHO: Luther Hargreeves & you!
WHAT: A government enforcer, obedient to the wrong people because at least they weren’t as bad as his last authority figure.
WHEN: Catch-all for throughout the plot, will add prompts as needed
WHERE: In the streets, at government facilities, with his team of fellow enforcers, at home, wherever.

[ RATIFICATION CELEBRATION | OTA ]

After a decade in the City, Luther Hargreeves knows how this dog-and-pony show goes.

The meta known as Space is a steady and reliable appearance at public events throughout the month: he smiles politely for photos, he haunts the Archangel Gabriel’s side as a bodyguard, and he parrots the right words, the PR lines he’s been drilled into saying, the party line. Order and stability is more important than ever these days, now that the Porter’s spewing chaos back into their well-ordered life.

Or so they say. Or so they tell him.

You can find him working security, most likely, or watching the celebrations with more hawk-like attention than cheer (probably keeping an eye open for trouble). Parades, parties both public and private, his schedule’s packed with them all.

[ GOVERNMENT TEAMBUILDING | OPEN TO OTHER ENFORCER PALS ]

The truth is, though, that they’re stretched thin. Pulling long hours, doing the usual work of hunting the resistance, but also trying to track down new metas now, all the ones who slipped through their net when the Porter started working in overdrive.

His teammates can start to sense the change in the air when Luther’s stomping around the government complex, glowering at their map on the wall with pins of known resistance activity, or throwing himself into obsessive training and punching the punching bags a bit too hard until they spill stuffing all over the floor. Even the Ratification streamers hung (in an obligatory sort of fashion) around the office don’t improve his mood much.

[ WILDCARD ]

get @ me! i'm on plurk at quadrille if u wanna plot or if you want me to add a personalised starter for you :> will match prose or brackets, too.
also of note: he’s still 6’5”, but looks human in this AU and doesn’t have his half-ape physiology!

Comments

[obediences]

Luther forces himself to take a ship of his own drink, still watching Matthew over the edge of it. Because focusing on something like swallowing means he's not throwing that punch. "I don't like to make a scene," he says, "and this is an expensive suit, so." His gaze slides over the other man's shoulder, glancing back to the crowd. Checking on Allison's location. If a fight does break out, he wants her by his side.

It is really, really annoying being so predictable sometimes. Knowing that others can read him like a book. He knows it and hates it. Because Luther's a loyal clockwork soldier and he'll keep on going and going and going with his routine if nobody shakes him out of it. And he doesn't want to admit any government secrets to a traitor, but if Matthew's already guessed it, then does it really count—?

"We should've smashed those Porters when they stopped working," he says, with a deep swig of the gin-and-tonic. "Would've kept things simpler."

It's not like he wanted to go home, anyway. This was home.

[onthe_threshold]

"It's a really nice suit," Matthew agrees. He watches Luther's eyes move, knowing damn well the man is keeping track of his backup. He isn't bothered. He'd do the same.

"Should have, yup." Matthew, like Luther, has no real desire to return home. "I always figured they didn't really know how the damn things worked so they just kept em around hoping they'd figure it out." He shakes his head.

"The older I get the more I'm convinced that the people in charge are fucking idiots. You live long enough you'll probably come to the same conclusion."

[obediences]

A raise of an eyebrow. "You're griping about it like you're ninety. You can't be that much older than me, are you?"

They're keeping the conversation civil, albeit through loosely bared teeth, because Luther's frankly not sure what to do about it. His instructions and parameters for the evening hadn't included something like there's a former enforcer here but he's being pretty benign, all things considered. He doesn't seem to be posing a threat to Gabriel or the other higher-ups, so maybe it's alright to let things be.

Then again, their particular powers mean they're at something of a stalemate. Matthew could try to telekinetically pop Luther's skull like a balloon, while Luther could try to teleport out of the way and get close enough to snap Matthew's neck. It'd be messy, no matter what happened and who wound up on top.

So. Best not to find out just yet.

[onthe_threshold]

A chuckle. "You wanna know something fucked? I don't know how old I am. Not really. Should be my late thirties, if I'm guessing right, but any paperwork stating definitively would be back in my home world."

Matthew taps one if his temples. "Memory is fucked. Too much head trauma and brainwashing."

He sips his drink, good eye still on Luther. "I guess you understand."

[obediences]

"Not really, no," Luther says stiffly, tersely. For a disorienting moment he's not sure if Threshold's referring to his father or to their once-shared masters, but either way, there's an instinctive defensiveness: he's a loyal hound, still slavishly devoted even to the people who hurt him. And Luther's current masters, well. They haven't hurt him as much as others he's had.

But he doesn't hold as much ire against the other man as he could. It's simply not as personal as any betrayal to do with the Academy once was. So Luther just watches Matthew; chews on that defensiveness, forces his own jaw to loosen.

"Where have you been?" he asks, out of curiosity. He can't help but ask, even if a real answer might not be forthcoming.

[onthe_threshold]

Matthew offers Luther a half smile. "Around. Don't worry, I'm not working for the rebel scum." He chuckles.

"Consider me a free man, Luther. As free as us guard dogs are ever comfortable being, anyway." He drains his drink and claps a hand on Luther's shoulder, leaning in to speak quietly.

"There's so much more to live for, Luther. I know you'll never leave, but I want you to know. There's much, much more."

He steps away. "Enjoy the party."

& end!

[obediences]

Those words, they lodge heavy in Luther's chest, echo strangely in his head. He can't quite define how they make him feel. A restlessness? A faint dissatisfaction? It'd have been easier if the other man had simply been antagonistic; far easier if the two of them had just come to blows. That almost-friendly word of advice, on the other hand, is far more complicated to swallow.

"Have a good night," Luther says, as well-mannered and polite as he's always been taught to be. And he drains the rest of his drink as Matthew stalks back into the crowds.