ArchivedLogs:Outfitting the Troops

Outfitting the Troops
Dramatis Personae Jackson, Jane
In Absentia	2013-07-23 '
Location <NYC> 303 {Lighthaus} - Village Lofts - East Village
This apartment is cheerful, in its way -- bright and airy, its floor plan open and a plethora of windows providing it with an abundance of light. The tiny entrance hall opens into a living room, small, though its sparse furniture and lack of clutter give it a more open feel. The decor is subdued and minimalist; black and white is the dominant theme, with occasional splashes of deep crimson to offset the monochrome, though of late myriad bright-coloured dragonflies swarm across the living room wall. The couch and armchair are upholstered in black corduroy, the low wide coffee table central is black wood and glass-topped, and a few large pillowy beanbags provide additional seating by the large windows that dominate the back wall. Towards the back, a couple of doors lead off into bedrooms and bathroom, and to the right, the kitchen's tile is separated from the living room's dark hardwood floors by black countertops. Above the bedroom to one side, there is higher space; a ladder climbs up to a lofted area looking down on the living room. Standing in front of the partition between living and cooking area is a large fish tank: one lone Betta, blood-red, swims regally among several species of black and silver fish. A hallway beyond the kitchen leads further into the apartment. Another bathroom stands just into the hall and the farthest door leads to the apartment's final bedroom, the door usually kept shut to hold in the acrid fumes of turpentine and paints from within. The Tuesday afternoon is not a particularly warm one - a fact of which many of the residents of New York City are no doubt happy about coming off of the recent heat wave. There has even been a bit of rain, causing people to scramble between buildings, and a select few to stand, arms above their heads, shouting "GOD YES!". But only a select few. Up on the third floor of the Village Lofts, a figure stands in front of the door to apartment 303, examining it for a moment. A cardboard box is tucked carefully under one arm, and the figure lifts one hand. The knock on the door is heavy, an authoritative rap of knuckles against the wood of the door. There is only a few moments before the knock comes again, a little bit louder this time. Demanding. Standing in front of the peep hole is Jane, dressed in a neatly starched white dress shirt and a pair of gray slacks that don't quite match the combat boots that are on her feet. She doesn't seem to mind, though, adjusting the package underneath her arm. The guard captain frowns at the door, pausing for a moment, then lifting her hand once more. The knock is answered first with a scrabble of paws, Obie racing to snuffle at the door eagerly. It takes a bit before Jackson pulls the door open. Only barely returned from school, he looks a little bit flustered to have someone at the door; it does not get any /less/ flustered when he sees it is Jane. "Oh! -- Oh. Hi, sir, um -- come -- in?" He's nudging Obie back away from the door with one bare heel. He's dressed brightly, a purple-blue-pink miniskirt printed like a stormy lightning-filled sky, a layered pair of tank tops, light blue over black. "Sorry I was jus' makin' some -- d'you want some tea? Or -- somethin' else to drink?" Jane's eyes flick over the guard's face and her lips press into a little bit thinner of a line than they were a moment before. It does not make very much of a difference to her overall expression. "No, I'm fine, thank you Jackson." Jane says, taking a step into the room and looking around carefully. Her eyes search out the doors of the room, the nooks and crannies, and one can almost hear the gears in her head turning. The counter can be used as cover. The window is a possible escape route. The closed doors could be hiding an ambush. After coming to some kind of conclusion in her head, Jane turns to Jax. "I won't be too long," she says, nodding once to Jax. "How are things going for you? How has the duty shifts been so far?" Jackson nudges the door closed (and locked) behind Jane, letting Obie free to investigate; the little beagle's tail thwaps in the air furiously as he sniffs at those combat boots. "Shifts've been fine," he answers, slipping back through the living room to the kitchen -- there's a pot of reheating leftovers on the stove for his lunch. A kettle of water heating for tea. "Quiet, so far. 'spect that'll change up once the building's ready to /open/." "Yes, it will. But it is always better to make these kind of challenges on the turf that you decide, rather than out in the world." Jane says, with a brief shake of her head. "We can defend the building from most attacks without too much trouble, I am confident." The Sergeant's lips quirk upwards into a parody of a smile. "It is the last part of 'most' that will give us the most trouble." A pause, and she unfolds the box from underneath her arms. "I have something for you." She extends the box with two hands, presenting it forward roughly. Inside the box is an unadorned black collar, with a small bulk near the front of it. It is sized appropriately to Jax, and clearly has an inside and outside - one part is a black synthetic material, the other is transparent, revealing a mess of wiring inside and little LEDs all around the length of the collar. The front looks no different than the rest from the outside, though the wiring is visibly more complex there inside. "Well. Until y'manage to get Io to let you shut him up in a safe room forever, we'll just hafta make it on both," Jackson says with a small curl of /actual/ smile himself. "I think s'easier for me, can't nobody recognize him when he's out with /me/. Though -- honestly even when I ain't disguising him none, ain't too many people that recognize him by face just yet. S'the name that does it." He transfers his food -- rice and chickpea curry -- into a bowl, shutting off the burners and pouring hot water into a waiting mug for tea. He skirts back around to the living room when Jane presents the box, taking it with a puzzled look. Opening it with no lessening of puzzlement, though the faintest hint of colour in his cheeks. "You -- got me a -- collar?" He turns it over in his hands, looking at the wiring and poking at the bulkiness at its front curiously. When the bulkiness at the front is poked firmly, instantly the inside of the ring blazes with bright light, its LEDs firing up at full. Jane glances away quickly before the brightness hurts her eyes, and she shrugs her shoulders. "I've been doing some investigation into my team's powersets. You do better with light. This way, if worst comes to worst, you'll never be without. It's got about thirty minutes of charge in it, and you can activate it with your chin if your hands are occupied." Jackson doesn't look away from the brightness, drawing in a quiet happy breath when the collar lights up. The light streams towards him, twining around his hand, curling its way up his arm but then vanishing. "/Huh/." His smile lights up, brighter. "-- /Neat/. That's -- huh. Thank you. That'll be -- real nice sometimes. An' with the LEDs turned in it won't even bother nobody else much." "That was the plan," Jane says, glancing up to Jackson's face and nodding her head. "With most of these things, I am encouraging the people I give them to to wear it with you at all times, just in case, but in your case, I would almost consider it an order. You're high profile in your own right, and you always need to be ready to defend yourself. Put it on and don't take it off except here, to charge it." Jane says, crossing her arms over her chest. "Almost an order," Jackson echoes, with the very faintest of emphasis on that first word. He switches the lights off, hefting the collar thoughtfully in one hand. "I'll keep it under advisement, sir," he answers eventually, lightly. "Thank you." Jane's lips thin further. "It is an order when you are working. But I /highly/ suggest you wear it regardless." She pauses for a moment, frowning at Jax, her eyebrows furrowing together. "If you need to change it in any way, I can give you the contact information of the Mendel engineer who built it. It is, according to him, not that complex." "And when I am working, sir," Jackson says with a crooked curl of smile, "I'll follow your orders right proper." His fingers run across the wiring, and he gives a quick nod. "If it ain't that complex I'd bet my kid could --" His cheeks flush slightly, and he shrugs. "-- Bastian's real good at -- things. If it's simple he could probably tinker with it aright." "Probably would be simpler for him to simply get the design from the engineer and built his own." Jane says, with a frown. "If he is tinkering with it, you are not wearing it." She nods her head, once, and turns towards the door. "I will see you around, Jackson. I will email the both of you the contact information for the person who built it." "Alright." Jackson heads towards the door, too, to unlock it and open it for Jane. "Y'have a good day, sir. An' -- thank you."