(Request from @Auto_Koning.)

In simple terms, everything had blown up right in your face.

Years ago, you had been a rather respected member of the Guild, going under the codename of Pascal. You did hits and information dealing rather well, but you did more than that. Someway, somehow, you found yourself to be the target of Sevati Dumas’ affection. Remembering soft nights, a little bit of wine, a silent stolen kiss in the Avalon moonlight. But that was before you caught wind of the Guild setting you up to be assassinated, with Sev herself being the one to pull the trigger. So you called up your friend who had a death wish, and set them as a plant.

It worked.

For several years after that, you had went about Avalon completely off of the criminal grid. But that wasn’t until one night, when you had just sat down at a restaurant, when you saw a pair of eyes across the street. An unfortunately familiar pair.

Shaking your head and glancing down at the menu for several minutes, you figured it was just an illusion…and then you looked up. There she was, sitting right across from you, her face…a large mix of things. Longing, frustration, disappointment, and a hint of that old love she had for you. She spoke quietly, narrowing her eyes,

Sevati: “You’re supposed to be dead.”