Is the title dramatic enough? lol
Here's a book of all my various plot bunnies! All of my bastard children that I'll never legitimize. Most are posted on my Tumblr (lots born from a 'create a character on the spot' or the 'if they had a kid' games t...
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Neeta
(I actually had this fic posted but, given that s2 is likely going to go with JFK having never been assassinated, my plans were kinda ruined. And I hadn't worked on the fic in awhile, writers block, so I just deleted to and decided to shelve the project. Anyway, here's the prologue and first chapter!)
Ordo Ab Chao: out of chaos comes order
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My name is Neeta.
I work for an organization called Temps Aeternalis, although it's commonly called The Commission, even by management. What it does is supremely important: preserve the time continuum.
We work in a delicate balance between the timeline of events and mankind's free will through manipulation and removals, which is just a polite way of saying murder. That might sound harsh but, and I cannot stress this enough, sometimes people just need to die. Like when they make choices that alter the timeline and those mistakes need to be fixed, they really have it coming when you think about it.
Now, when these mistakes happen, it's a long, very tedious process to correct it that's way above my pay grade but I'll explain for complete transparency. First, a report is sent then sorted and assigned to a case manager, who determines if anyone needs to be removed from the equation to assure that their event happens as it should. Based on that determination, the case manager sends instructions to agents to eliminate the threat. Agents like my partner and I, although "agents" is just the PC way of saying "temporal assassins". That's what we really are.
To be honest with you, I didn't even want a partner. I'd had a few since my recruitment over the years – it's just standard procedure – but none of them ever lasted. I'm pretty sure I have the biggest turn-around for partners. It's not like I killed them, but I certainly didn't risk my neck to save them when they inevitably screwed up. It's called Darwinism for a reason. Anyway, I just wanted to work alone; it suited me best and the sooner management understood that, the better off we'd all be. Then The Handler saddled me with a guy nearly twice my age with some special super power. I'm not gonna lie, it was rough at first. Half the time, it seemed like he was a few cards short of a full deck, he drank way too much, and what the hell kind of name is Five anyway? But he was good. Damn good. Maybe even as good as me. Before I knew it, we'd been going strong for four years.
The Hindenburg, Franz Ferdinand, Stalin, Chernobyl, Titanic, Julius Caesar, the Romanovs, the Great Chicago Fire – and so many more, it was all us. I think I'm most proud of Ferdinand, to be honest. It was some of our best work, absolutely beautiful. And how many people can say they started a war? Well, ensured a war happened but I digress.
Four years into our partnership, Five told me the score; said he felt he owed it to me since we'd managed not to kill each other for so long. He had to serve five years with The Commission, then he'd get retire to wherever and whenever he wanted, with a pension. I'll admit that it hurt. I finally had someone who was my equal, someone I could depend on, someone who actually cared about what happened to me – and I cared what happened to them, which was too weird for words – and he was gonna ditch me in a year? Where the fuck would that leave me?! I don't mean to brag – okay, yes, I do because we fucking deserve it – but no one was as good as us. No one. And no one would ever match up to my standards, not after Five. He was the perfect partner because he was more than a partner. Hell, he was more than a friend.
