ArchivedLogs:Foreboding

Foreboding
Dramatis Personae Anette, Eric, Regan
In Absentia	New Year's Day, 2017 "I've already seen that road."
Location <BOM> Common Room - Main Lodge - Ascension Island
The common room's rustic-lodge feel has been somewhat mitigated by the modern amenities inside its sturdy wooden walls. It has comfortable couches, several chairs, a refrigerator (stocked with snacks and drinks!), a pool table, a pinball machine (METALLICA!), an assortment of books, a television -- with several game systems! -- and a splendid view out the windows (when their lacy yellow curtains are drawn open) for the rest of the island. The pale wood floors have been covered in places -- by a pair of soft thick blue rugs, by a large squishy pair of beanbags that stand in front of the stone fireplace. There's also a board up on the wall, half corkboard, half whiteboard, with a variety of community notes (and occasional insults) to other Brotherhood members. Large doors on the right-hand side lead off to the kitchen and dining room. In the back of the room, the council room's heavy oak door bears solid locks that are almost never actually barred. A short hall adjacent to the council room's door leads to a trio of multi-stalled bathrooms; these might once have been marked with the typical man-woman-handicapped signs, but someone has given them new plaques on the door; a stick figure with horns and a long tail, one with wings. One -- the large single-user toilet -- has instead been given a helmet and a cape. Though the Solstice has passed, sun still sets early over the City That Never Sleeps. By the time evening begins to give way to night, the last bits of the sun have been well and truly extinguished for hours. The first night of the new year is in turns restful and busy: partygoers last night taking an easy relaxing Sunday, and those responsible for cleaning up after the night of debauchery still with hours to return the city to a pristine state. Ascension Island, of course, has its own rhythms separate of that from its larger neighbor, and despite the party previously, the common room of the main lodge is no more a catastrophe than it ever is. Not, perhaps, that this is a particularly high bar. The door opens and shuts, letting in a figure with a heavy jacket hood pulled up over his face. Two brown eyes peer out from underneath the hood, glancing this way and that, before heading to peer into the council room. The council room at this moment stands empty. Clean and sparkling in the sleepy New Year's Day quiet. There are footsteps on the basement stairs, a measured pace bringing Regan up from the training room below. She is casually dressed -- black jeans, a pink tank top, grey sweatshirt over top, blonde hair pulled into a low ponytail. "Have you been practicing your skulking?" A brow quirks upward. She's meandering languidly through the room -- folding a forgotten blanket here. Picking up a stray Coke bottle here. Anette was surprisingly absent from any and all island parties, only just now coming out of her cabin. She's dressed comfy with black leggings, a baggy brown sweater, and thick boots. She looks better than she had in the last week or so, her face returning to its natural color and eyes no longer as dark. And in the name of comfort, Anette is lounging in one of those beanbags by the fireplace, her legs crossed in front of her with a plate balanced on them. On the plate is a grilled cheese sandwich and some potato chips, which she casually munches with one hand while she holds her phone in the other, casually tapping at it with her thumb. When she hears Eric enter, she looks up briefly, raising a brow as she attempts to decypher who is under the hood. She side glances towards Regan as she enters and greets the other, gives a light shrug, and goes back to her phone for a second before setting it next to her on the beanbag. "So how was everyone's New Years?" "Takes a lot'a practice. Usually, I'm showin' off, not hidin' this beautiful face under a hood." Eric drawls, raising his hands and pushing his hood back. "Heya, Anette. Heya, Regan. My New Year's wasn't great. That's why I'm here. Ya'all seen the paper this morning?" Eric reaches into his jacket, pulling out the front page, complete with big, bold, boisterous (and definitely not sensationalized at all) headline: MURDERING MUTANT MAYHEM. "The dead guy is a mid-level Friends of Humanity douche with some good friends. Already got the assistant chief breathin' down my neck." "I worked." It's simple, quiet; Regan does not seem particularly upset about it, at any rate. "I feel rather gratified to see Ion did not burn the island down -- this year." She steps closer to Eric, lips pursing as she looks over the headline, scans the start of the column there. "Charming." Her tone is dry. "They insinuate we had a hand in this nonsense." "Yeah, I heard," Anette say rather casually, taking a bite of her sandwich as she holds up her phone and gives it quick wiggle. "What else is new? Mutants get the short end of the stick." She does give a brief grin. "I don't envy your job. Neither of yours actually." She stands up out of the bean bag, giving her wings a slow stretch. "So what are we going to do about it?" "We didn't." The police officer pauses for a second. "Right?" Eric asks, raising an eyebrow at Regan. "I ain't gonna get any surprises when digging in here? No one went rogue or nothin'?" He glances over towards Anette, shrugging his shoulders. "The uniform's got its perks." A wink, beat. "It's gonna get nasty out there before this gets better. Tell everyone to keep their heads low for a week or two, 'specially the ones that stand out." Eric gives Anette an apologetic look. "Mmm. We can increase security at the safehouses and patrols in high-risk neighborhoods," Regan answers, "I'm sure there will be any number of people taking this out on whatever mutants they see, and I'd rather we be there to make sure fewer of ours get hurt because of some idiot's mess." Her eyes are still fixed on the newspaper a moment, before she moves away to sink down on the arm of a chair. "No. we didn't. We have more pressing matters than some Friendly goon." Regan's lips thin, her head shaking. "Toure labs is in negotiations with Oscorp to outfit the Sentinels with scanners that will be able to discern mutants from humans. If the Sentinels are thus outfitted, there are many more departments than the NYPD across the country inquiring about adding the robots to their force." Her brows have furrowed, deep. "The implications of a functional mutant detector are -- large. Currently, their contract is only for a prototype. We aren't sure if they /can/ deliver." Anette can't help but chuckle at Eric's worry. "Not gonna lie, that'd be my first thought, too." She does grin at his wink. "You can rent the uniform." With his advice, she nods her head and her smile falls, her features more serious. "I'll let Akihiro know." Regan's reaction however, has her visibly tense, her wing feathers flattening against her back. "A mutant /what/?" she asks, eyes narrowed with concern. "Jesus...that's bad. That's really bad." She raises her talons up and combs them through her hair. "What the hell are we doing about /that/?" "We'll have to make sure they don't deliver." Eric says, firmly. He crinkles up the newspaper in his hand, stuffing it back roughly into a pocket. "I'm going to increase the shifts on the rota for a couple of weeks, help mop up some of the backlash from this attack. We can pull resources from patrols onto dealing with Toure Labs." Sighing, Eric sticks his hands in his pockets, shaking his head. "Christ. Unless ya think we should just hit Oscorp again, target the Sentinels teams. If it's only a prototype, who knows how long it will take to develop -- if they can at all? An' the Sentinels are here, now." "The Sentinels are here now, but mutant detection would be a catastrophe that goes far beyond them. And quickly." Regan tips her head in a nod to Anette, a quiet acknowledgment of the other woman's concern. "Dusk has been looking into how far along the project is. Who is working on it. But we'll need to move on this -- before it gets much farther /along/. A future with rapid in-the-field scanning --" The set of her expression is grim. "I don't think any of us want to go down that road." "I've already seen that road," Anette says quietly. "So, what do you need from me?" Apparently she's not giving Regan a choice in her involvement, only in how she's involved. "It's been a while since I've knocked down sentinels and I'd gladly do so to prevent the mutant detectors." She still seems rather tense, glancing back and forth between the two. "This sounds an awful lot like the future in the dreams..." "Yeah, I think we all remember what that looks like." Eric says, grimly. His eyebrows pinch together, frowning at the floor. "I'll ask a friend over in TARU if we're helping with the development. Wouldn't be surprised; I know we pitched in with testing of the Sentinels." The police officer tilts his head to one side. "If we can get the names of the people working on the project... even one or two of them having an accident should help the rest of them to understand they want the project to go away." "Anything you can find out there would be of use." Regan's jaw is faintly tensed. She gets to her feet, empty soda bottle still held in one hand. "It does seem -- a little foreboding." With a small furrow of brow, a brief glance toward Anette and then away. "We'd hoped to avert this future and now so many details -- well." She pulls in a quick breath. "We can do something about the detectors, at least. I'll put together teams. They won't," her words are simple, but firm, "come to fruition." "You know, you're alright for a cop," Anette says, ticking her head towards Eric. "I could almost trust you." She glances towards Regan as the other woman also takes the situation as seriously as she does. "This is why you're my favorite." She takes another bite of her sandwich, giving a soft snort at Regan's comment. "Details. You're telling me. Speaking of..." She suddenly looks a bit queasy and rubs her stomach, setting the plate of half eaten food on a nearby table. "But yes, the sooner we nip this in the bud, the better. And you know where to find me." "I do my best, ma'am." Eric says, exaggerating his drawl and winking once more. "We'll take care of it. One way or another, we'll make sure we don't all end up down that road." Eric nods and raises his hand in a light salute to both of the women. "I better get back to the mainland. The quicker we catch the person who threw that dick out of the window, the sooner I can get to dealing with the people who really matter." Eric grimaces, lacing his fingers together and cracking his knuckles out. "Stay safe, stay low, both a' ya."