Log 1 -New mission

526 12 0
                                    

LOG: 01

Bored, to say the least. Been dispersed to go about fulfilling my latest mission. Interestingly enough, my goal is to play the role of a watchdog. I guess I'll be getting into the habit of writing these logs then...a good rough draft before submitting the weekly (daily seems too tedious for my taste) task of sending the ol' chap a good barrel of info. I don't see the big fuss, Vermouth wouldn't harm the organization, she's afraid of the big boss. Bourbon is weird (or so I've heard), seems rather eager to talk to me, Vermouth states that I come up from time to time...I can't say if I trust him or not, wasn't my job to watch any of them before this. I just became in charge of background checks. My pops used to be in charge of it, before he was found out and shot. Told me something about "negotiations" and "police agreements", the old fool knew once you tangle with this group there's no way out. For all his intellect he lacked common sense, a shame. Not like I care. A traitor is a traitor. At least that's what my mom used to say....

You sighed, staring at your laptop, the notepad application open, making your thoughts displayed for the world to see (well if the world was standing right behind you). Typing and texting was all you ever did, it was your job, and also the means to convey whatever pent up emotions you had. You cracked your knuckles and stared at the screen, deleting and retyping.

Bored. Been dispersed to go about fulfilling my latest mission. Goal is to play the role of a watchdog. Vermouth wouldn't harm the organization, she's too afraid. However, she could try to get someone else to do it instead. I'll be keeping an eye on her movements. Bourbon is weird, eager to talk to me, Vermouth states that I come up from time to time in conversations. I plan to watch him first.

-St.Germain

You went into the usual routine of emailing the right hand, before forwarding the same email to Gin. You didn't expect a reply from Rum, they didn't interact with you unless it was extremely important, they never really cared for you much to be honest. Rum only ever responded to the boss' messages.

"At least Gin sends a reply, asshat."

You looked through your "special list" under your file named "Important 0_1" and dragged a pdf into the email box under Vodka's email address. Chuckling, you were about to hit send before your phone buzzed twice then fell silent. Turning it over, you saw that you had 2 new text messages from none other than Gin.

"Got it. Been suspicious about those two myself, send me any updates."

"Also, don't plague Vodka's phone with another virus, do that again and I'll put a bullet between your eyes."

You snickered, deleting the email, before replying with a demon masked emoji with the words:

"Ya caught me, was just about to send it. Maybe some other time. I'll keep you updated on any new intel I get on the topic."

You felt a little cheeky, and sent him one more message.

"Can't shoot what you can't see."

No one but Vermouth, the boss, Rum, and the late Miyano family, as well as the late Akai, have ever seen you in person before. Everyone given an alcoholic name knows of you though, and Gin has communicated with you on several occasions via email and text. So much so, that you've come to view him as a grumpy older brother, and despite your suspicions, you view Vermouth as an older sister figure. She's always been kind to you, and often bought gifts for you ever since you were little. Even as a 20 year old, she still showers you with gifts all the time, and pinches your cheek as if you're still a child. You honestly wouldn't know what to do if you found out that she was indeed a traitor.

"Another Shiho scenario would be horrible..."

You muttered, before shutting off your laptop, closing your eyes to get some rest.

...

-St. Germain is a type of liqueur made from elderflower, a small white starry flower that blooms through the spring and summer. It's known to mix well with wine and other spirits such as Vodka and Gin.


The Boss' Left HandWhere stories live. Discover now