Logs:See, I am coming soon; my reward is with me, to repay according to everyone’s work.
| See, I am coming soon; my reward is with me, to repay according to everyone’s work. | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia | 2024-06-24 "You're welcome to let them¸ if you think it's a worthwhile trade." |
| Location
<NYC> Jenner Ruins - Grounds | |
It's pleasant here, a clear evening brightened by the gibbous moon overhead. The dusk is quiet, to some; to others it's irritatingly busy with the hunting calls of many bats. Probably Regan doesn't hear the bats, but she's staring up at them all the same, tracking the dark shadows as they briefly blot out the stars. She's been sitting on a bench against an outer wall that overlooks the new vegetable gardens they've been building, dressed in flowing black pants and a bold red blouse. One leg crosses over the other, and she takes a slow sip from the gin and tonic in her hand. "-- I don't have your sight," she's saying mildly to her Sister, "but I can see one potential -- large hitch with this plan." Her mind is reaching out even as she says this, slipping into the walls of the compound -- giving a quiet nudge, quiet summons, to Leo. Destiny sits very still and very straight beside Regan, both hands wrapped around her cane. She's wearing a Han jacket and skirt in shades of blue with a crimson sash belt, the lightweight silk luminous in the moonlight. She is not drinking, but there is a swing top bottle of some golden liquid and two glasses on the rough-hewn section of treetrunk that's been set by the bench for a side table. "I see many potential hitches. Most of them are small, though it goes without saying that does not make them minor." She tilts her head, listening. "But this one we must address first." "If he cannot," Regan says lightly, "there are other options. If he will not..." She's trailing off, here, and her brows pull inward as she watches another bat go by. "He can." Destiny does not qualify this. "If he will not, many Brothers will die in the assault. If he will, the sheer horror of it may lead the feds to suppress details for fear of widespread panic." She cants her head in the other direction, now. "That would be better for us and for him. But either way, we must do it, and soon." Somewhere behind them a door is opening. Leo is dressed for a comfortable night in -- very soft purple v-neck tee, worn old jeans; he's hastily slipped on a pair of hemp tsinelas for venturing outside. He doesn't sit, when he arrives. His arms are crossed in awkward hug around himself as if this warm summer night is giving him a chill, and he nods to the women. "You -- called?" "Mmm." Regan's frown deepens, a distinct skepticism in her mmm. "We have other recourse than simply..." But this trails off as the door opens. She lowers her drink to the arm of the bench, uncrossing her legs and crossing them again in the other direction. "We are making plans to reckon with HAMMER. For a strike of this magnitude, you are likely the most potent weapon we have." Destiny inclines her head in greeting when Leo arrives. "More specifically, we need you to create a weapon that can be given to someone who will infiltrate the facility, infect the personnel, and leave." She tips her face up and stares sightlessly at the moon. "This government left many weapons in you. It may be poetic to give one back." Her dark, dark eyes track back down to Leo, though she seems to be staring right through him to something far away. "But. You know far better than we what parameters would be necessary for such an attack, and what risks it would entail." Leo's mouth twitches thinner, pulling to the side. He looks up, shifting uncomfortably as he frowns at the bats overhead. "I think there are a lot of our Brothers who would -- be eager. For the chance. At this revenge." There's a questioning in his tone, and his fingers press tighter against the crook of his arm. "There are. Most, I think, who were here when our siblings' blood soaked the grounds of our home, would give their lives for a taste of revenge." Regan turns on the bench, eyes fixing on the side of Leo's face. Around them the quiet grounds of Jenner are shifting -- bodies of their murdered Brothers strewn on the grass, the air loud with screams and thrumming with the Sentinels' hum. It flickers quick enough to have been almost a hallucination. "You're welcome to let them¸ if you think it's a worthwhile trade." Destiny does not flinch, as strange as Regan's projection must be for her sensorily if not emotionally. "That kind of eagerness makes even seasoned fighters sloppy. Strategically, it's better they have their vengeance by your hand." She actually does seem to be looking at Leo, now. "I recognize that is no small burden, either on your conscience or the size of the target on your back." "Unless you want me infiltrating HAMMER myself, which seems -- unwise -- I doubt the target on my back could get any larger." Leo lets one hand drop, thumb hooking into the corner of his pocket. Then unhooking. His fingers brush down against his jeans. "You know whoever you do send in will probably die, right?" "I imagine that creating a microscopic time-bomb is not an exact science. Virulent enough to hit most of their staff. Fast enough to not start a new pandemic." Regan sips at her drink, still looking steadily at Leo. "I imagine she knows the risks, too. Human immune systems tend to be -- more frail, aren't they?" Destiny picks up the bottle, uncorks it carefully enough to keep it fizzing over, and pours herself a glass. "And our carrier is," she adds, with a sudden incongruous smile, "unusually robust. I imagine you could do a bit of consulting on the ideal vessel for your weapon." She lifts the bottle slightly in offer. "Cider?" "That -- will make it. Much trickier, it'll be hard to predict the difference in virulence from..." Leo's fingers press down harder against his arm. He's looking past the women, now, to one of the faded QUARANTINE signs still posted on the outside of the building. "It'll need -- a lot of refining but I think I have just the thing." He eyes the bottle, and dips his head in polite thanks, though he doesn't take any. "Thank you, but I should. Sleep. I think we are going to have a lot of --" As he looks at the door his mouth twitches thin once more. "Testing." | |
