ArchivedLogs:Justice Fail

Justice Fail
Dramatis Personae Steve, Tian-shin
In Absentia	2016-04-27 '
Location <NYC> Harbor Commons - Rooftop - Lower East Side
An open-air escape especially popular with smokers and fliers, the Common House rooftop makes good use of its limited space. The railing that circles it has child-resistant gates where walkways can be extended to connect to the other buildings in the development. A colorful and ever-changing table with sometimes-matching benches provides an ideal spot for an urban picnic. There are two garden boxes on the south-facing side, one for vegetables and the other for herbs and flowers, a tool shed and small patio table with chairs between them. The cool, rainy day has eased into a cool, damp night, the precipitation more intermittent now. It's been a quiet evening out in the city so far--or, at least, no structural fires are visible from the Common House rooftop. Tian-shin sits at the edge of the roof, dressed in an aqua sweatshirt with a puzzled-looking cat sitting on a could and well-worn black gi pants. Sans makeup, she looks gaunt and unwell, dark shadows under her eyes. Her head rests against the railing, hair bound up tight but not particularly tidy, and her feet dangle down over the edge of the building. She lifts a lit cigarette to her lips, inhales deeply, and breathes a pale gray stream of smoke out into the breeze. Steve is stepping out of Firehaus, lifting his face to the sky for a moment. He wears a brown leather jacket unzipped over plain black tee, much-mended jeans, and scuffed up combat boots. Strolling out into the courtyard, he seems to be surveying the progress on the still-skeletal shape of the new Workhaus. When he turns away from this, however, his eyes go directly to where Tian-shin is stitting on the edge of the Commonhaus roof. He lifts his left hand and waves, walking toward the building. He looks to the door briefly, but then backs up two steps instead. Runs. Leaps. Kicks off of a second-storey window ledge, then a third-storey one. Stretches out his left hand to grab the railing, swing over it and land lightly in a crouch a few steps away from Tian-shin. "Buena noches," he says, not even a little out of breath. Tian-shin lifts the hand holding the cigarette to wave back when Steve sees her, the red brand burning a touch brighter in the darkness. Her eyes--languid and half-closed before--open wide when Steve scales the side of the Common House, and she hesistates a moment before answering his greeting. "{Good evening,}" her Spanish comes easily, with a Mexican accent. She studies him critically, fine black brows furrowing just a touch. "{Didn't you get shot? Again?}" "{Other shoulder,}" Steve replies easily. Then, after a moment's consideration, a gentle, exploratory roll of the shoulder in question, and an attending wince. "{Still, probably not the best idea I've had all day.}" He looks out at the hazy skyline, the city lights glittering on glass and water alike. "{Do you mind if I join you?}" Then, switching to English with a sheepish half-smile. "Belatedly." "{I don't mind you joining me if you don't mind the air pollution.}" Even so, Tian-shin transfers her cigarette to the hand farther from Steve. She puffs at her cigarette again, then lowers it, holding the smoke in longer than she really needs to before expelling it diffusely. "{How are you doing, injury aside?}" Steve drops down to sit beside Tian-shin, hanging his legs over the edge of the roof. "I'm a New Yorker," he points out, "air pollution is my birthright." But her question he does not immediately answer. Stares into the offing. Closes his eyes. "{Not sure. The protests, the violence, the divisive rhetoric...}" His lips press together. "{I had some hope that the American people would rally when faced with so glaring a demonstration of the government's crimes.}" He shakes his head, the motion sharp and quick. "{Maybe it can still happen but...honestly, I just want Jax and Ryan back. Is that selfish?}" Tian-shin turns her head against the railing and watches Steve thoughtfully. "{The government is very averse to being wrong, and most people are averse to being branded terrorists, which is what you are if you try to call the government's bullshit these days.}" She taps the ash from her cigarette and shrugs. "For what it's worth, I don't find it selfish. {/I/ want them back, too.}" Her brows gather, and she shakes her head. "{But, the bureau of prisons is flagrantly ignoring all of my requests--including the medical ones. Jax is quite sick without his powers, and it's extremely worrying to have him in there without so much as a checkup from a physician who actually knows an X-gene from his--}" She breaks off there and switches to English. "--from a hole in the ground." Steve sucks in a sharp breath. "I never expected they'd be treated with anything like compassion or dignity, but /this/..." His hand closes on the railing, squeezing down until it creaks, ever so faintly. "{This has to stop. You have explored every legal avenue?}" Than-shin nods. "{Short of suing the bureau of prisons, which would take...a long time.}" She looks down and takes a drag on her cigarette, her shoulders sagging. "{I'm sorry.} I've failed them." "Not you!" Steve sits up straighter, fixes Tian-shin with a piercing gaze. "The justice system has failed them; /America/ has failed them. But not you." Then, brows knitting tight, he adds more quietly. "And not /yet/. I've at least one more card to play before..." He trails off, shaking his head. "It's time to make Fury put his money where his mouth is."