Private , Indie,  selective  Y E L I Z A V E T A    ‘A P R I L’   O S B O R N ， ＭＡＹＨＥＭ

yeliza is 120 years old please stop asking her if she has rizz

listen . . . eliza really is a cryptid. hear me out. from afar, there is nothing special about her: your eyes do not linger, almost as if compelled to look away, to forget her. it’s only up close, and when she allows you to, that you find out there is something . . . different about her. she’s almost too beautiful --------- the way she carries herself is effortless, like her body doesn’t react to things the way bodies should. it’s the blink and you miss it kinda thing, a weird reflection in ice blue eyes, a smile with too many teeth, fangs sharp and ready. your body knows she is danger before your mind does.

yeliza: yeah ... sex is cool, but have you ever fucked the system ???

I often think about how the KGB controlled Eliza, and it wasn’t easy. She was dangerous even when she was young — incredibly smart && unpredictable if they didn’t keep her in check. So, they put an inhibitor in the base of her spine, hidden so deep you’d need surgery to even find it. If she ever tried to mess with it, it would hit her with electric shocks bad enough to drop her instantly.

And that still wasn’t enough for them. When they sent her out on missions, she wore a stealth suit — all tactical and black, with a mask akin to the winter soldier’s. But the real kicker was the earpiece within the mask. they built in a micro sonic cannon, and if she ever disobeyed, they could trigger it remotely and knock her out before she even knew what was happening.

but the thing is, she didn’t often need controlling. Eliza grew up inside four walls. She was trained to be loyal to Russia before she even knew what loyalty meant. These were more precautions a means to control the beast within.

“ DON'T FLATTER YOURSELF ” A rasp — dry and sharp. Something close to a smile ghosts along her mouth, but it doesn’t reach the eyes. Hasn’t in a while. Shoulders stiffen, back pressed into the wall behind her as if distance might soften the weight of everything said ( and unsaid ).

“ You always were better at cleaning things up. ” Tone isn't bitter, but there's a tired edge that frays each word like worn cloth. “ I just made sure the kid didn’t fucking die and somehow I am the villain in Fury's narrative. ”

Tension anchoring between shoulder blades. The kind that doesn't go away with retirement or therapy or whatever bullshit word they try to package normal with these days.

“ You think I wanted to get involved ?? ” A scoff, barely breath. “ I left them for a reason ” No names. No need. Not with Natalia. They both did — left that behind. The locked rooms. The orders barked in cold languages. The kind of freedom you only earn by bleeding for it. Something flickers across pallid features — something tight and momentary, she doesn’t look at nat, but the silence between them stretches long enough to say i know you remember it too.

“ but you see a man raise a gun at a kid and you tell me what you do.” A breath pushes out, sharp through her nose, hand twitching near the untouched glass at her side. “ Fury's going to come for me anyway. Doesn’t matter if you’re first through the door or the last. You and I both know how this plays out. ”

The hand finally moves — not to pour, not yet, but to slide the glass just slightly across the kitchen surface. A soft clink, delicate despite everything in her posture saying don’t push me.

“And you're stopping it ?? Means I owe you again. ” A beat. Then, quieter “ And I fucking hate owing you. ”

❛ sounds familiar. ❜ breathy snort flares nostrils though its lined with a tinge of amusement over annoyance. SHE'S NOT HERE TO JUDGE ; no. natalia romanovna is a lot of things , but a hypocrite isn't one of them. hence why she chose to show up first on her own accord before anyone else caught wind of the situation. head tilts off to one side , digits drumming along table surface as widow follows eliza's every move.

❛ and so you stepped in and intervened. ❜ less of a question and more reverberating the FACTS. ❛ kid's lucky you were around then. ❜ there's also that distinct lack of performance in her tone as natalia watches on. a sigh parting lips before she'd removed the sunglasses looming over the bridge of her nose. she means the words that fall from the tip of her tongue. that kid ? he was lucky.

❛ and you know that i hate it when you're listening to my heartbeat. ❜ head now tipping off in the opposite direction. ❛ ------- WELL. since you're listening to it. tell me , does it seem like i'm lying so far ? fury is going to want to rain hell down on you if ... no , WHEN he finds out. i , on the other hand , intend on stopping that before it happens , against his better judgement. ❜

the drumming comes to a halt as all tips of fingers press down against surface at the same time. this game ? this ACT they're forced to put up with for the sake of " diplomacy " ( its exhausting. draining even. ) ❛ NO. ❜ the initial response , single brow now rising up.

❛ no , i don't think you did. i think you were put in a situation where something needed to be done and no one else was willing to do it. that you were dealt a hand and you simply played the cards given to you. i think this entire situation could have been dealt with a lot cleaner than it was , but it was dealt with. and that's all that's important. .... still think i'm lying, or are you finally going to pour a glass ? ❜

                          Eyes watching the movement of the other,  she notes the furrowing brow. She understands, akin. they are both a product of  war.     beneath   their   skin,   the   trenches   run   deep,   filled   with   blood   and   mud.  A   potent   brew   at   the   back   of   the   tongue; war   tastes   the   same   no   matter   who   fights   it.   

Sharp inhale, cold wind settles within lungs. Trust doesn't come easy yet something nestled between the others words allows Eliza to relax. Posture softens a little, shoulders lowering. “ hmm ”  a beat, “ okay, good ... but I will ask you something then. If you weren't following the rumours of a monster that resides up here ... then why are you here ?? ”  russian lit drips from her words as she leans back into her seat, curiosity raises a brow towards the other. If the pale blonde wasn't looking for the dormant beast within then what ... Lips  twitch  into  a  smile  ---------  still  unsteady,  still  unsure  ---------  “ look, you're welcome to spend the night. I have supplies. Take what you need but I will need you gone by the morning ” 

whatever they told you ,  it’s a lie .

❝  I'm  getting  so  tired  of  hearing  those  words.  ❞   Mumbled  mostly  to  herself.   Under  her  breath  in  a  thick  accent  that  can  be  recognized  anywhere.   She  used  to  be  more  cautious  about  it.   Better  at  masking  the  accent.         (  she  gave  up  on  that  when  it  became  less  of  a  problem.  )   Pale  blonde  head  turns  to  look  over  her  shoulder  to  @spybiote.   Her  brow  furrowed  ,  as  if  trying  to  read  and  animals  behavior.   Maybe  that  was  what  she  was  doing.         (  maybe  that  was  simply  what  she  had  done  by  default  for  so  long.  )   She's  ready  to  hear  her  out  at  least.   She  of  all  people  would  know  what  that's  like.   ❝  Я  последний  человек,  которого  вам  нужно  в  этом  убеждать.  ❞   It's  not  cruel.   Not  angry.   But  serious.   The  only  mode  she  seemed  to  have  anymore.   There  had  been  a  time  when  that  face  lit  up  bright  as  fresh  winter  snow.   Now  it  only  wore  expressions  of  caution  ,  and  exhaustion.   ❝  We  don't  have  to  talk  about  it.   I  won't  ask  questions.  ❞

Jodie Comer being photographed for Variety (September 2019)

it should be illegal to work weekends

KILLING EVE (2018) — “I’ll Deal With Him Later” (S01E02)