ArchivedLogs:OPSEC

OPSEC
Dramatis Personae Hive, Iolaus, Jackson, Lucien, Jane, Ryan
In Absentia	2013-02-24 Jax and Hive recruit some advice to help take on Prometheus. Cranky advice. (Part of Prometheus TP.)
Location <NYC> 303 {Holland} - 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 bright coloured sealife has made its way into being painted on the 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. It's not quite dark, yet, but it's getting there, when Jax returns to his aparment. He has a large cart in tow, rattling quietly with dishes as he brings it back into the house. A whole lot of dishes, leftover from Food not Bombs's meal today; given that he's well bundled and his boots hold traces of slush, his cheeks and nose reddened with cold, its likely he's been outside quite a while. "-- Still waiting to hear back from Jim," he says, "but after that." After that is bleak but determined. He toes his boots off by the door, shedding his jacket as well to hang it up. Beneath his clothes are brightly cheerful -- a yellow t-shirt emblazoned with the Little Miss Sunshine cartoon character, brightly coloured mismatched armwarmers beneath, black corduroys held up by a rainbow-studded belt. The cart leaves dirty wet streaks across his clean floor as he wheels it towards the kitchen. "Which reminds me I need to talk to Hive, too. There's this guy --" His lips press together thinly, brows creasing into a frown. "What kinda a guy?" Ryan is following Jackson in, with another cart. Leftover foods. Bread. A few more dishes by way of Large Pots. "Doesn't sound like a /good/ kinda a guy." He slips his shoes off, too, his jacket hanging up as well, and follows Jax towards the kitchen. He's a lot more staid in his dress. Ribbed black sweater, blue jeans. << What kinda a guy. >> Hive is echoing this from upstairs, thudding in hard and heavy. Hi. "I don't know," Jackson says, nose wrinkling, "this guy. Um. There's a liquor store near the studio. The clerk there was terrified. He'd mangled her somehow. I guess he does that -- his mutation. Screws up people's bodies? He said he wouldn't undo it until she left the job and in the meanwhile he's just terrified her into letting him steal stuff." He is distincly disgruntled, at this. "I though maybe, well, Hive might -- be able to, uh, convince him. To put her back." << Oh gosh /and/ the party, >> he's fretting underneath this, << so much all at once. >> << Guy who fucks up people's bodies? Sounds creepy as fuck. He go there a lot? >> Past the harsh stabbing voice Hive sounds kind of bland. But he's curious as he probes, << -- Party? >> "Thaaat -- shit. Sounds kinda up Hive's alley. He do that to a lot of people?" Ryan's frowning now, too. He slips past Jax to move to the sink, stoppering one half to fill it up with water and a little soap, beginning to scrape dirty dishes off into the trash and drop them into the water. "You sure you need to be worrying about it, though? You've got a crapton on your plate already." "I'm bad at not worrying," Jackson says, slumping against the counter for a moment. "Party -- party. Mnngh." Emma flashes into his mind, visiting him at the studio with her invite to the Oscorp soiree. "This woman came by work inviting me to something Oscorp was putting on. To woo a military contract making anti-mutant tech. I guess Osborn wants /me/ there to -- prove he doesn't /hate/ mutants or something." His knuckles are scrubbing against his eye. "I can't even think about that kind of thing right now, you know? They were trying to /bribe/ me to go. Like, if I went, they could make my citation just /disappear/." Which he doesn't even want. Maybe. The thought of fighting it all the way still leaves him nervous. "That doesn't sound sketchy at /all/. You sure they don't want to just invite you there to kill you? Demonstrate this tech of theirs?" Ryan's lips are turned up into a smile, but he's not joking. He's looking at Jax with no small measure of concern. Looking at Jax's eyepatch with no small measure of concern. << What in the fuck. >> That's Hive's answer to this. << You fucking serious? >> "Yeah," Jackson answers, and it's clear from his jumbled thoughts, from his discomfited feelings, that he doesn't really know what to make of any of this. "Said I could bring a plus one but no telepaths and their powers had to be documented. Who's going to want to agree to that? Also said," he says, with a crooked smile, "they only want offensively weak mutants. Doesn't really make it /less/ sketchy." He peels off his armwarmers, tucking them to hang out of a pocket as he moves to the sink to grab a sponge. "Uh, why'd they ask you, dude?" Ryan slips a plate into the soapy water, eyebrows raising as he looks Jax over. << You should blow up their whole bullshit party, >> Hive adds, helpfully. Boots clomp down the hall towards Jackson's apartment, thick, heavy, the color of sand. A sand-and-grey pair of pants are above them, in camouflage pattern, though the shirt on Jane's chest is a dark green that does not match. She is followed by a much more formally dressed Iolaus, carrying a suitcase. Her fist knocks firmly on Jackson's door, pounding twice on the metal, the way a police officer might right before breaking it down. Jackson yelps at the pounding on the door. << I'm not blowing up anything oh gosh were they eavesdropping in your /brain/? >> He is abruptly panicking, dropping his sponge onto the floor. There's an uncomfortable pressure against Jax and Ryan's minds that carries with it the suggestion of laughter, beneath the squeezing. << It's Io's guarddog, dude. Go answer your fucking door. >> It's Ryan that answers the door instead, though, green eyes sweeping the pair outside before inviting them in with a quick flick of his hand. "Hey," he greets, easily, "Jax is inside." Jane nods curtly and steps past Ryan without another word, eyes glancing around the room carefully before she crosses, the ever-watchful vigilance of a guard. Iolaus, on the other hand, is much more friendly. He extends a hand brightly to Ryan, smiling at him. "Iolaus. It's a pleasure to meet you....?" he trails off, one eyebrow rising in a questioning glance as he closes the door behind him with a gentle push of his foot. "Oh -- oh." Jackson relaxes, exhaling heavily as his shoulders slump downwards. "Hi, guys," he says, nervousness abruptly returning as he remembers /why/ Jane is here. "Um, this is Ryan, he's my -- friend. Can I get y'all anything? Drink? Eat?" Ryan grasps Iolaus's hand, firm, his smile warm. "I've heard a lot about you," he tells Iolaus. "We were just slogging our way through a stack of dishes, sorry." Hive doesn't say anything. Quiet. But listening. Jane walks over to Jax and looks him over, standing perfectly straight. "I'm fine." she says, voice graveled and tight. "Have you given any more thought to my offer?" Not, perhaps, what she is here for, but... try telling her that. Go on - try. << Straighten up. Wipe that unsure look off of your face. You want to lead soldiers into battle, they need to trust you. Fuck, you have a lot to learn. >> "Yessir," Jackson answers, "but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." He shuts the water off, picking up the sponge to drop it back into the sink. He wipes his hands on a towel, slipping around out of the kitchen to gesture to a chair. "We should sit." There's a knock on the door. Not nearly as thumping as Jane's. Crisp and curt. Outside, Lucien is dressed down -- jeans, dark blue sweater over a paler button-down, black peacoat. He knocks then waits with hands clasped behind his back. Ryan frowns at the door, puzzled. For a moment he's listening, silent query to Hive, but from Hive there's no answer past a brief confusion. Ryan peers out the viewhole, then opens the door with a slight lift of eyebrows that quickly turns into a slow sweep of gaze over Lucien. "Hi," he says, "Someone expecting you?" Jane sits down in the chair as Iolaus goes to sit on one of the couches, pulling a laptop out of his briefcase and settling in to work with headphones in his ears. Even when Jane is sitting, her posture is perfect, and she carries herself as if she might need to leap into action at any moment. "If that's not why you wanted to talk to me, what did you want to talk to me about, Holland?" She says the name as she would say the name of a soldier of hers. "Well, you've had experience leading people. There's a --" Jackson startles at the second knock, preparing to take a seat but then getting right back up again to slip over towards the door with a puzzled expression. It shifts into surprise a moment later, flicking a glance to Jane and then over to Lucien. "Luci! Hi!" he greets, a good deal more chipper outwardly than his thoughts would suggest. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, Desi and the twins went out -- um." His nose wrinkles, apologetic. "Coffee, they shouldn't be long. Do you want --" He's gesturing inside, although with a trace of bemusement. "Hello," Lucien says to Ryan, with a slight tip of his head. "No, I am just here to pick up my --" He gestures to Jax as Jax explains about the children. Lucien steps into the room, and the smile he gives Jackson in return is not nearly as chipper. "No worries. She could use the break, after the night she had." He frowns at the sight of so /many/ other people in the room. "My apologies," he says, with a slight tip of his head, "am I interrupting? I did not mean to -- oh. Iolaus." The surprise here is enough to break through his usual careful calm. Ryan's still looking Lucien over, appreciative, before slipping back away to drop down into a beanbag chair near Jane's armchair. "To talk about something better not talked about with company," is his muttered addition to answering Jane's question. He's dropping down into a beanbag chair beside Jane's armchair. << Bulldog's gonna blow some kind of fucking gasket, >> Hive informs Jax and Ryan blandly, << she's all in soldier mode like you're one of her fucking grunts. Ryan, punch her for me. >> This is probably not serious. Ryan, accordingly, does not punch anyone. << I should get the guy out of here, >> he's musing, and it's mostly a pragmatic thought! Mostly. Only a smidge lascivious. << Hive, you want to pinch-hit on this? Fill me in later? >> << Sure, if you can wing it. He's not going to just /go/ with you, though, dude, he's like the most expensive hooker you'll ever shell out for. You'll need more than flirting. >> Like boatloads of cash. This, though, only encourages Ryan. << Really? I could book him? That makes things easier. >> Jane glances at Ryan, but, oddly, this muttered statement seems to relax her. She does, after all, understand the importance of secrecy to protect a mission. She glances at Lucien, studying him with a sharp glance. Iolaus looks up when someone says his name, and his eyes widen. A hand comes out and quickly removes his earbuds. "Lucien!" he says, surprised. He looks pleased enough, though confusion plays a large part as well. "Wh... how are you doing?" he asks, switching the conversation in the middle. A complicated set of emotions run through him, very quickly, underneath the mask of his smile. Surprise, confusion, yes, certainly, but also longing, attraction, hunger, desire, and a kind of desperate need that is much more than simple lust. "Oh, you two --" Know each other, clearly. Jax glances between Iolaus and Lucien, shutting the door and heading back into the room to lean against the back of the couch. "Luci's sister was visiting the twins. I think he's just here to pick her up. Can I get you something, Lucien?" Lucien is mostly still looking at Iolaus, and it takes a moment of hesitation before he smiles. "It has been a long night," he says, mildly, drifting not very far into the room, his hands still folded. "There was, ah, a fire. Nobody hurt, much," he adds, quickly. "Some -- teenager mocked up like a superhero swooped in and got the children and their mother out." He sounds /quite/ bemused at this. And despite the words, there's a brief twinge of anger that leaks through, in his emotions though not in his calm smile. "I am doing well, though. Took a day off work. Returning shortly, once the children are settled again." "Dressed like a superhero? Seriously? This city, man. I'm glad your family's alright, though, that's gotta be stressful." Ryan's getting to his feet, and he is nothing if not blunt, becomes immediately on the heels of this: "How shortly are you returning to work? I might be interested in --" He flicks fingers towards Lucien. "Jax's talked about you," he lies easily, "I'd at least like to talk about working something out." Iolaus' gives Lucien a concerned look. "At your home? Is everyone alright? How is Matt? He needs to be seen by someone if he inhaled smoke. It can cause complications." he says, standing up smoothly, but then not quite sure what to do next. His eyes glance between Ryan and Lucien, and he, slowly, eases himself back down into the chair. << Easy, Iolaus. >> Jane watches this interaction between Lucien and Iolaus impassioned but curious, a thoughtful expression on her face. << Interesting. >> "I heard from Desi," Jax admits, a worried look crossing his face. "That sounds real rough. I hope the others got some relaxing in today, too." And then, a little more curious, "-- what sort of superhero? I -- I guess that was lucky for them." "Lucky, yes." Lucien's tone is crisp and dry. He twitches a little bit wider of a smile at Iolaus. "My mother's house. Not my own. They are all quite fine. Varying degrees of inhalation. No burns. It was much less severe than it could have been. -- Ah, I don't know. A -- spider-person, I think. My youngest sister was quite taken with the whole thing. She has been telling everyone she sees all day that a superhero saved her." His smile eases into something warmer as he looks Ryan over. "/Has/ he." There's amusement, there, his gaze flicking over to Ryan and back. His hand turns upwards. "By the middle of the week, I imagine. If you wanted to work something out, I'm sure we could --" He glances around the room, for a moment, lips thinning slightly. << The doctor's hooking up with Lucien? >> Hive is thoughtful at this, too. << Huh. >> The look Ryan flashes Jax does a good impression of being apologetic. "I don't suppose you'd mind if I stole him for a bit? We'll be just across the hall when the kids get back." There is a knock at the door! Not the kids, though. They probably wouldn't knock. Hive lets himself in a moment later, offering nobody any greetings but heading over to clap Jax on the shoulder. "Sup," is offered to the room at /large/. "Ah. Well... that's good to hear." As Lucien turns to business, Iolaus looks up and smiles at the person who stepped through the door.. "Oh, hello, Hive! I haven't seen you since I put you in my bed," he teases, winking at the man. He puts first one headphone in then the other, turning the music back up to drown out the conversation, and to try and get Lucien back out of his mind. Lucien looks Ryan over a moment, lips curling into a slightly wider smile. "Certainly," he agrees, gesturing towards the door. "Let me know when Desiree returns?" he asks Jackson, but then -- after a quick warm smile to Iolaus -- he's slipping out with the musician to head across the hall. Jackson watches as they head out, then lets out a slow breath. He moves to drop down into a beanbag chair, sitting cross-legged and resting his hands on his knees. "Sorry about that," he says, quieter, glancing towards the door. "There's some things it's probably not good to talk about to just anyone." << Though who knows if Jane is /just anyone/, anyway. >> "This is Hive, I don't know if you know each other?" << S'what I'm here to find out, >> Hive answers Jax, but he's looking at Jane with a curt nod. "Yo." He moves around to drop down onto the couch beside Iolaus. "Yeah, shit, man," he says, with an absent bop to Iolaus's shoulder, "you get me into bed once and then you never call." "I understand. Maintaining OPSEC is always an important part of any mission." Jane says, giving a curious look to Jackson and Hive. "Though, I do admit, I am curious exactly what you are planning. If you didn't ask me here to talk about the job offer, I can only assume you called me here for my other skills. And that is... interesting." << What are you planning to blow up? >> Iolaus grins and winks at Hive. "Well, that's what happens when you don't put out. Frigid people don't get the phone calls in the morning." Jackson draws in a slow breath, images of the Prometheus labs flickering through his mind. He does his best to banish them, sitting up just a little straighter with his hands curling around his knees. "I did. Your knowledge, maybe, as much as your skills." His fingers close, slowly, thumbs brushing against the stump of his thumb. "There are some people who've been hurting a lot of mutants," he says, after a moment of thought. "We do our best to stop them, where we can. It's been rough going. I'm not trained for leading people. Most of the people I'm leading aren't hardly trained for what we're doing." Hive snorts, shoulder bumping up briefly against Iolaus's. But then teasing fades away into something more serious. He's listening /very/ closely to Jane, now. "These people are dangerous. We've lost --" His jaw clenches. "Dangerous, but a lot of people are dying. Some things have to be done." Jane's face gives away nothing. "What kind of hurting mutants are we talking about? Street thugs? Organized violence? Militia? Black ops? What's the threat assessment?" This last one is said harsher. << Jesus, I've fallen in with a bunch of vigilantes. You're not in the Army anymore, Jane, that's for sure. >> "No, not like street thugs," Jackson says, slowly. "Like an organized group kidnapping mutants to --" His lips press together, his brow creasing slightly. "Kidnapping mutants to lock them up and experiment on them. Against their will. There's a number of facilities like this across the country." "We went to the police, once. The first time we got people out. Press picked it up, too, in a couple local papers. Then the story just kind of /disappeared/." Hive is still watching Jane, his posture kind of lazy-casual in contrast to Jane's ramrod-straight spine. He leans back against the couch, one ankle crossed over his knee. "We don't know who's running the thing, but given how quick it all vanished, probably the government. Or some big contractors with them." Jane frowns, glancing from side to side for a moment. << Shit. Terrorists. >> Her arms fold over her chest and her eyes fix Jax, hard. "If it's a contractor, fine. If it's the government, you boys are way in over your head. I can only think of a couple organizations that have the kind of scope to be doing that kind of thing, and they're nobody you want to mess with. The black-bag team." << Back off, >> Hive cuts in immediately to Jax. << We'll look somewhere else for help. >> Jackson takes a deep breath, looking down at his shoes. "Could be you're right," he says, letting that breath back out slowly. "It's been kinda a nightmare already. We should probably --" His head shakes, and he gets to his feet. "I don't know. I feel like I've been in over my head on a lot of things, lately. Probably time to get back to shallower water. I'm sorry for wasting your time, miss. I'll be in touch with you about the job." "These days I think it's just deep and deeper," Hive says wryly. "But you've got kids to think about, at least. Probably best to not go getting yourself killed." Jane looks back and forth between the two men, a faint look of annoyance showing on her face. "You back down that easy? I tell you that it's going to be hard, and you give up?" Her tone is worn with derision. "Grow a spine, boys. Fighting against special forces is no game. They've got years and years of training that you can't hope to have." Her attention flicks back and forth between the two men. << Or... no. Maybe they're not giving up. One of them, sure, but... both of them, at the same time? >> Her annoyance grows quickly to suspicion, and she shifts her eyes to Hive, staring him in the face. << Unless they're backing off for a reason. >> "Ain't about a spine, miss, it's just probably not the best -- messing with the government's a whole different world of trouble," Jackson says, flicking a glance away towards the open doors to the children's bedrooms. "And Lord knows I've had trouble in spades lately." "Isn't that the fucking truth," Hive grumbles, his expression much as it has been as Jane looks at him; caught in his default somewhere-between-bored-and-annoyed. "There's plenty of ways to play superhero, though. You fight this ticket bullshit all the way to the top, you'll still do everyone a world of good." << She's thinking terrorists, >> He is saying to Jax, as his head tips back against the couch. << Which I guess we are. But fuck. This shit's not a government I can respect. >> "I know what he does," Jane says, flicking a finger at Jax, attention still speared at Hive. "Get out of my head, /telepath/." she says, spitting the word as if it was a very dirty thing indeed. "You want my help, you have my oath that this conversation goes no farther than the three of us. You'll get more than my advice if you convince me that you're doing this for a good reason, but stay the /fuck/ out of my head." Jackson falls silent. His expression settles into something grim as he looks between Jane and Hive. "The fuck does your oath mean to me?" Hive says, frowning at Jane. "I don't know you from Adam." "My oath is my word." Jane says, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Hive. "Go ahead. Look into my brain or whatever the fuck you do. You'll see I'm not lying." Indeed, she means what she says, and she turns her attention back to Jackson. "Next time you want someone to piss off, be a little bit slower on the draw. More derision in the ranks. Now. What, exactly, are they doing to people in there?" Jackson doesn't answer this. He looks back to Hive, questioning. Hive looks at Jane a long while, studying her with his fingers tapping against his knee. Eventually he blows out a slow breath, waving at Jax -- go ahead. << She turns on us, I'll just fucking wipe her brain, >> he says, silent, irritable. "Torturing them," is what he says aloud. "Torturing them how?" Jane says, turning back to Hive with a trace of annoyance in her tone. "The government doesn't torture people because they hate them. They torture people for a /reason/." Her lips purse. << Even if it's not a good one. >> "Research," Jackson says, settling back into his seat. "They catch mutants and study them. I guess they're trying to -- I don't know. Replicate powers. Control powers. Learn from what we do. But the way they're going about it -- they just take people. Kidnap them. Lock them up and use them like lab rats. Kill them when they're through." "Like I give a fuck what their reasons are. Kidnap and torture and murder is kidnap and torture and murder. They don't hate us," Hive says, bluntly, "they just don't even think of us as human." "Know your enemy, and know why they do what they do. If you don't understand why they are doing what they do, you won't understand how they will respond when attacked." Jane replies to Hive, even as she turns her attention back to Jax. "Alright. What kind of forces are we talking about? You said it was either governmental or a corporation. That means it's not military, yes? No one there in uniform?" "We said we didn't know." Jackson hesitates, considering his answer before responding. "Down where they lock us up, there ain't people there in much but scrubs. Suits, sometimes. We tracked down some of where their supplies were being bought through but it's all just dummy companies. They're guarded to the teeth, though. Some of the tech they have --" He frowns, biting down on his lip. << Murder-drones, >> flashes through his mind. "They're trying to weaponize us. If they aren't military they're likely fucking working with them." Hive gets up, skirting around to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. "And their guards are /way/ better trained than some dumbass rent-a-cops." Jane considers, for a moment. << I doubt the military would risk it, on our terrain. God knows they were always anal as hell about doing anything off base before, even anything non-controversial. Still. >> She nods, once. "If I had to guess, I'd say it was probably a one of two things. It's either a contract job by one of the main defense contractors, which means you're going up against ex-soldiers, or black-bag operation by SAD. The Special Activities Division. They're..." << Where I would have been, if I had a dick. >> "The best. They take soldiers from the most elite special forces divisions in the military and put them to work for the CIA. They're not supposed to operate in the United States, but... those are not people you want to screw around with. They are /the/ best the military has to offer. But if the CIA was found out to be working in the confines of the US, all hell would break loose. I don't know if the government would risk it." "You looked at the state of the world lately?" Jackson says, wryly. "I mean, I'm not saying you're wrong about what they'd risk, just. They do a lot these days that violates a lotta rights they ain't supposed to cross." His palm presses to his forehead, fingers rubbing absently against one temple. "We've gone up against them before. Few times. But it's likely we will again soon. I'd like to avoid bringing my people into a slaughter." "Either way, it's a lot of firepower from people who've had plenty of practice dealing with us. Half their guards /are/ mutants," Hive says, with a slight clench of his jaw. "Not all voluntarily. But it makes it a shit ton more tricky than just going up against people with /traditional/ weapons." << If it was SAD, you'd be dead. They'd kill all of you without even breaking a sweat, mutations or no. >> Jane nods. "Show me what you have. How many people do we have? What's our armaments? What do we expect their force is? What are their armaments? How about position? Do we know anything about their building and what kind of guards it will have? Schedules? Mutations?" She beacons to the other men as if to say 'gimmie', even as she glances briefly over at Iolaus. He has headphones in and is rather dead to this conversation, off in his own world, half-working, half-fantasizing. << Man, are we sure we don't know anyone less of a dumbass? >> Hive says to Jackson, a little tired as he sips at his water. << This military hardon is old already. Underestimating what mutants can do might get us all fucking killed. >> He takes his seat again, scrubbing at his cheek. << Whatever, though. Learn what she's got to teach. Knows more than any of us about leading people, at least. >> His eyes slant sideways to Iolaus, and for a moment a smirk breaks through his default cranky expression. Just a moment. "Know some things," Jackson says, finger tapping against his knee. "Should know a bit more soon. And we know what we've been up against before. There's -- a lot to tell you." And not a lot of time to do it in. But Jackson does his best. At least until the kids get home.