ArchivedLogs:Changing Needs

Changing Needs
Dramatis Personae Elliott, Eric
In Absentia	2014-05-05 '
Location <NYC> Busboys and Poets - East Harlem
A quiet, artsy spot nestled away on a side street in East Harlem, Busboys and Poets combines cafe and bookstore in a way a Starbucks tacked on to a Barnes & Noble could never achieve. The food is a solid, multi-national cuisine menu that caters to all kinds of dietary choices, and its fair-trade tea menu is extensive. Its weekend brunch tends to draw a large crowd, but there is ample enough seating both at tables and on its many comfortable armchairs and couches that at other times of the week there is never a wait. The walls are adorned with the work of local artists, and tucked in among and alongside the couches are rows upon rows of books, with a definite slant towards the political and the bohemian. In the downtime between lunch and dinner, the cafe is not crowded. A few Columbia students all with their laptops out in a corner, a pair of women talking quietly over coffees. Elliott is dressed somewhat business-casual, a khaki-coloured pair of trousers with a white wrap top, a light jacket tossed over the back of the chair she sits in off in a back corner of the cafe. She has a very large cup of coffee in front of her, currently ignored in favour of her phone, attention turned there as she busily composes an email while she waits. She doesn't have too long to wait; Eric strides in shortly before he is due. He looks... somewhat odd, really, in a NYPD dress uniform replete with service pins, medals, and a large space where a badge should go. Glancing around for a moment, it doesn't take him more than a few seconds to spot Elliott and head over towards her. "Commander, thank you for agreeing to meet with me," Eric says, accent coloring his words as he flashes her a bright smile. "I'm real glad that Micah was kind enough to intoduce us, since I ain't gotten anywhere trying myself. I'm a cop, not a diplomat. May I?" he gestures to the seat across from Elliott, politely. Elliott shuts her phone off once she's addressed, slipping it into a bag sitting beside her chair. She looks up with a warm smile, standing as Eric approaches to offer her hand out to him. "Sergeant," she greets easily. "Oh, certainly. I just hope I can be of some help. The things I've been hearing lately --" Her head gives a small shake, and she gestures with her other hand towards the empty seat. "Please." Eric's grip is firm, and his hand warm as he shakes Elliott's hand. "I don't know if ya remember, Commander, but we met once before - durin' the Risin'. We cleared a couple'a buildin's together." He shakes his head and gives a sad little laugh. "May have met more'n that, but I confess, I try not to think too much'a those days now that they're done. Was a dark time for the force." Eric says, looking down at the table. "We lost a lotta good people." Silence, for several seconds. "Mm. An' there I go again, thinkin' 'bout it. I'm sorry, Commander. I'm sure it's just as bad for ya as it is for me n' mine. We're at least used'ta fightin' on American soil. Same ain't apply for you and yours." Elliott's handshake is firm as well, brief before she sits back down. "Do you need to get something? The chili here is amazing. And every discussion goes better with caffeine, I think." Her lips compress at the mention of the plague, and she draws in a slow breath, her hand lifting to rub against her cheek. "I think that was a dark time for everyone. I'm just glad that we had good people," her hand tips outward towards Eric, "there fighting it. Wouldn't have made it through without --" She catches herself, exhaling a quiet laugh. "And now you have me doing it. -- It's /good people/ in hard situations you've come here to talk with me about today, though, yeah? So I guess it's topical." "I think I might grab a cuppa, thanks." Eric says, glancing up at the counter. He darts away, but returns quickly, a mug in one hand and a bowl in the other, setting them gently down on the table as he sinks into the chair with a sigh. "Perhaps. I ain't goin' ta lie to you, Commander. I ain't sure I'd be sittin' here today makin' this fight if I didn't have skin in it myself." Eric says, smile lilting to one side but still sticking on his face. "Maybe that says somethin' bad about me, but it is what it is. The fact is, I'm 'bout to be stripped a' my rank and booted head first off'a the force for somethin' I can't help. And I'm sure I ain't the only other good cop on suspension for it. I've got a clean file; I've been a good cop, even when it ain't easy. And I ain't a threat to nobody." "Everyone's got their own motivations pushing them into this kind of thing. Doesn't make the cause any less valid just for having a stake in it yourself." Elliott curls her fingers around the mug, drawing it closer to herself. "I've seen for myself the work you do. As chaotic as things are, I don't think what New York needs is /less/ experienced men and women doing good work. I don't guess," she says with a wry twitch of lips, "that talking to anyone so far has helped?" "Well, I know I ain't got a chance in hell ta just get the brass ta outright change the regulation. But there's a need that I thought would make everyone happy, and so far, I ain't had anythin' but doors closed in my face. Some polite, some not." Eric shrugs his shoulders, picking up his cup and taking a sip. "I've done some research, and I found that mutant callouts to ESU are becomin' more and more dangerous. They're somethin' like ten percent'a the calls, and forty percent'a the injuries. For patrol, the arrest rates are very low, and the percentage of violent incidents' goin' up." Eric explains, warming to the topic as his words begin to pick up pace - to almost that of a New Yorker. "So, I talked to the Special Ops Chief and proposed a mutant unit to supplement ESU, for mutant cases." Elliott lifts her mug, sipping slowly at the mocha inside. She's quiet as she listens to Eric, dark eyes just fixing on him thoughtfully. It's only after he's done that she lowers her mug, giving a thoughtful hum as her forefigner taps against its side. "For all people claim to worry about the increase in mutant-related crimes, you'd think they'd /want/ to equip the Force better to handle them. Not just needlessly throw away lives on incidents they're entirely unprepared for. I think -- there could be serious positive value in a specially trained unit to handle --" She tips her hand up, returning it after to the mug. The corner of her mouth curls upwards. "I tend to have a lot fewer doors closed in /my/ face." "I imagine that might be true, Commander, for a couple'a reasons, now," Eric says, a little chuckle in his tone. "I think so as well. For everyone involved; despite what the public might think, ESU's first trainin' is in defusin' situations. Scared police officers are more likely'ta escalate if they think they're trapped. Havin' that extra trainin' - and knowin' you can handle the situation - helps ya to defuse it." Eric presses, gently. "I got my analysis if it'll help ya present the case," he says, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a flash drive to pass across the table. He picks up his spoon and takes a spoonful of chili before continuing. "Somehow I think the case'll go better if I ain't there." "Mmm." Elliott reaches to take the flash drive, setting her mug down and leaning down to slide a slim netbook out of her bag, opening it up to boot it up. "Better all around, then. Less deaths on the force, less trigger-happy officers mistaking /every/ mutant they see for a dangerous threat." She plugs the flash drive in once she's logged into her computer, shaking her head slightly. "Better when I talk to the Chief, perhaps. But for talking to the /media/," she says, lightly, "a face to put on this issue would be good." Eric straightens up a little bit and takes another sip of his coffee. He looks down and to the side for several moments, lips not moving from the edge of the mug as he takes another long sip and lets steam roil up over his face. "Yes ma'am." Eric says, finally, putting the mug back down. "If ya think it will help, I'm happy ta do whatever you need." He flashes her a smile, cocky once more. "The cameras certainly like me, it seems. And on the plus side, it'll really piss off the Chief." Elliott huffs out a quick sharp breath, shaking her head as she looks over her screen. "So long as we're focused on what's really important here, hmm?" She lifts her gaze to give Eric a quick smile. "I'll have my people arrange a meeting with the Chief straightaway. And and a press conference after that. We're not /looking/ to, ah, piss anyone off. Just to stress the importance of making sure the NYPD has /all/ the resources it requires to handle the city's changing needs." "Oh, of course, ma'am. It's doin' what's best for the City, no question. For everyone; mutants, non, and the force as a whole. I believe that, from the bottom'a my heart. And as I said... you're the politician. I'm just the police officer." Eric's smile spreads across his face, and he raises his mug in a toast. "To the next mayor of the greatest city in the world," he says, eyes warm and bright. "Mayor Elliott Carruthers."