Logs:Spade

Spade
Dramatis Personae Lily, Lucien, Winona	2023-02-24 It might be too much to ask. // … and yet you’re asking.
Location <NYC> Le Carrefour - Le Bonne Entente - Astoria - Queens
Above the bustle of the clerestory restaurant, tucked at the base of the bell tower, this indoor garden and library is out of the way and easily overlooked, sure to become a favored "hidden gem" of travel guides. Low bookshelves full of mythology, fairy tales, and folklore ring the central elevator shaft and the stairway spiraling around it like an easily navigable labyrinth. Beyond these are plants in a variety of tastefully whimsical containers, each with its own engraved plaque giving the common name, the scientific name, and their significance to various traditional stories and practices. The walls have been done away with so that the room extends beyond the doric columns into a surreal rooftop garden enclosed with glass stretching between the tower's massive buttresses. The arrangement of magical plants becomes less formal as one moves outward, with seating scattered throughout from proper benches to picturesque logs to surprisingly comfortable boulders. Wandering the outer edges of the conservatory, one could almost feel lost in a mystical forest but for the stunning views of the cityscape beyond the glass. There are many benefits, it must be said, to owning your own hotel, and while this is still a fresh novelty Lucien is taking full advantage of them. Today, the conservatory is closed to the public, a small table set amid the fragrant flowering herbs. Its fine white tablecloth has a feast laid out atop it, to which Lucien is currently adding a pour of a 2016 Clos Apalta to Lily's wine glass before he takes his seat. For him he is middling-casual today, in a camel blazer over a soft blue oxford shirt that picks out his icy eyes, crisp deep indigo jeans, and brandy chukka boots. "-- I do appreciate your willingness to work around my schedule," he is saying, soft, to his guests. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but, this seemed like perhaps not the best topic to broach over Signal." After her last visit to Le Bonne Entente, Winona has opted to go a little more formal than before, with a pair of black slacks and a salmon coloured button-up blouse. Her olive coloured jacket, however, remains entirely unchanged. "No inconvenience, really, it's nice to get to visit--" she gestures around with her hand. "Your establishment. Again. This place is very fancy. And I like all the plants," she says earnestly. "Um. And I agree. Probably best to chat here in person. Easier." Was this an inconvenience? Lily’s bag tucked under the table still has a little bit of hurriedly scrunched scrubs apparent in a gap in the zipper, faint lines across her face where protective gear was recently pressing into skin. Far more dressed down than both her meal companions, Lily is wide-legged high waisted brown corduroys, silver chain running from pocket to belt loop, black belt just visible where her grey knit sweater is bunching up. Her hair is a little disheveled, just released from a too tight braid, wispy edge pieces catching on her myriad earrings. “I did,” Lily begins, “mean to try and get into your appointment calendar around graduation.” She’s eyeing the Clos Apalta bottle with some apprehension even as she tastes it — probably later she will google the label, even later the wine she had been meaning as a thank you present will be demoted to personal consumption. “But, you made time for getting me back in school. I can make time for…” Lily trails off, glancing at Lucien and Winona in turn before sipping at her wine. “Well. I don’t know what, yet.” "Thank you," Lucien answers Winona. "I also like the plants. I chose them myself." It takes perhaps some effort to keep the pride out of his voice, here, though his gaze does drift brief and fond over the greenery around them. "I do regret that I have not brought you here simply to enjoy the garden, though. We --" He is indicating Winona with a small tip of his own bottle -- he is having a chilled cider similar to the one delivered to Winona. "have been in the middle of planning a -- hopefully final push of public opinion as Congress bickers about Prometheus's future. Daiki's expose was compelling, and Jackson has regrettably made for a very sympathetic face to this story, but a fresh round of public pressure on the subject would be -- timely." Winona bows her head when she is indicated. "It would go a long way to protect people from Prometheus, if we can just break its back." Her tone is thoughtful as she picks up her drink, "But to do that, I need to get certain kinds of footage. I can do interviews, sure, that will be a part of it. But some actual footage from the lab, of the kinds of things that happens there..." She trails off and then chews on her lip a moment. "I knew that you had gathered some information for Daiki, that you've worked for-- That you might have images and footage that I can use in a documentary." Lily’s attention has drifted to the plants ever so briefly, but snaps back to Lucien at the mention of Prometheus. She was never comfortable at this table, but now there is a new wary unease in her posture. “Final push.” This repetition comes out quiet but frustrated. Lily takes another sip of her wine, eyes casting down to her empty plate. “Winona, you’ve seen what I did there. Even if I did have footage, it wouldn’t be what you need. How do you need more after Da—“ Lily presses her lips together tightly. It’s a long moment before she speaks again. “I have given everything I have already. To you,” a brief look at Lucien, “to the team, to everyone I could these last two years. I don’t — there is nothing left.” "This would not even be a conversation if not for the invaluable assistance you have already provided," Lucien acknowledges with a small tip of his head that is not quite apologetic. "That closing the labs down is even a conversation in the halls of Congress right now is farther than would have been possible if you had not provided such fodder. But --" His hesitation here is brief, forefinger idly tapping against the side of the bottle. "In any moral society, the existence of the labs coming to light and what is done in there ought be enough. Unfortunately, the -- precarious social situation mutants are in -- well. I do not expect I need to tell either of you that there is a lot of inertia when it comes to really seeing the personhood of minoritized groups." This time, a soft touch of apology does slip into his tone. "I only hoped perhaps you might have some lingering contacts from your employ there, but I -- ought not have troubled you with this." Winona's brow furrows, her drink now gripped in both hands as she looks into it. "It's probably not fair to ask for more from you. I know that you've given. A lot. You've done so much work." She takes a deep breath and then looks back up at Lily, her expression hard. "I wish that we could afford fairness. But anything that you can provide. Anything. I can figure out where the secrets are buried, the ones so rotten nobody expected them to be raised up, with a smell nobody can ignore." Her hand curls as she extends it above her drink, as if holding something invisible. "I need something to hold onto. I need someone with a spade." Winona’s hardness is met by a rock — Lily’s frustration? anger? Distress? is only bleeding out a touch into her voice, her expression determinedly neutral. “I have nothing else.” Lily turns her gaze to her wine glass, perhaps with the faint hope it might spontaneously free her from this conversation. “Everyone I know that’s still there has — not morals, I suppose, but ethics about sharing data, there’s nothing more there. You want an interview? I can get you more know-nothing interns who played with cell cultures, but that’s not a spade.” Another sip of wine, and then Lily shifts, her posture indicating that she’s Done Here. “I’m sorry. If you need anything else.” Lucien has let his gaze drift past the others, fixing on a large lavender bush nearby. He finally lifts his bottle, taking a slow swig of cider. When he looks back at Lily it's with a small quirk of an eyebrow, a small tilt of head. "You still do know people there, then?" Winona's shoulders droop when Lily insists that she has nothing else, and she takes a drink of her cider, her brow knit as she considers what the next avenue to explore might be. But at Lucien's words, she perks up again. Her eyes fix on Lily quietly as she waits for the response. “I—“ Lily’s grip on the stem of the wine glass tightens for a moment before letting go. “…Yes. But no one that will leak. My… former mentors are not so free with information as my intern cohort was.” Underneath her chair, she nudges at her bag with her boots, pushing it back within easy reach. "Mmm." Lucien sets his bottle down, finger tracing a slow line through the condensation gathering on its outside. "Yes, but what if nobody had to? What if you could get the footage yourself?" Winona's eyebrows raise at Lucien's remark, and she says, "I-- that would go a really long way. But. It might be too much to ask." She nips again at her lip again and her gaze turns again towards Lily, "Unless... ?" Lily has gone very, very pale and very, very still. Her fingertips press into the tablecloth, the skin at the tips almost matching the white surface in shade. “…and yet you’re asking. What. Would you need.” No refusal. No objection, yet. "You will soon graduate, non? And from there be placed for your residency?" Lucien watches Lily's pallor, her stilling, with no discernible change in his own quiet expression. He tips his hand toward Winona, adding, "I expect Winona can give you a clearer picture over time of the types of records that would be impactful, but." His assessing gaze has not strayed from Lily, though his voice is softer than his critical appraisal. "As a qualified doctor in their employ, you would have far more extensive access to their operations than you did in your previous position." "Even things, innocuous sorta things, would help. If you could even get your hands on something like a desk toy or family picture or something. There was a doctor woman with these stupid fucking mugs--" Winona rolls her eyes in disgust at the very thought. "Even that kind of thing goes a long way. And if you were missing passwords or credentials or anything..." She closes her eyes and shakes her head. "I just mean. I would also be there. To support you in any way I can. To help with direction." "How would mugs-- Lily's gaze drops to Winona's hand at her cider, eyes slightly wider as she puts it together. "--oh." She looks back to Lucien, some faint sense of hurt in her eyes. "Is this what you meant by more useful. I thought. Maybe. You were talking about a placement at Mendel." Lily looks up, up, up along the staircase, well away from Lucien and Winona, up to the ceiling and the heavens. "Wh- if I do this. We all know what they might ask of me." "You would not be returning unaided," Lucien agrees, with a very small nod at Winona's words. "At the time, useful was an open question for you to answer. Have you?" He looks up again with a very small lift of brows. "If the clinic is where you want to land in the end, I know Doctor Saavedro quite well and am sure I could badger some doors open yet again. Mendel is a fine aspiration. Finer still might be knowing that your patients there are not forced to come to you for fear a different institution would ship them off to a cage." His head inclines slightly after this, one finger tracing slow patterns against the tablecloth. "We know what they might ask. They are asking it of so many researchers daily who do not share your qualms. If you do this, we will do everything within our power to make sure it is put to a good end." Winona takes a deep breath with her eyes closed and then nods in agreement with Lucien. "I know what they would ask of you. I know what we are asking of you. But I also know all the work that the team's done, I think of the people that have been lost along the way... If we can strike a deathblow to Prometheus, then we can save ourselves so many more sacrifices." Her posture slumps slightly forward, arms cross over her stomach. "Save ourselves from so much fear. I promise, I would be here to support you with my full heart." “Yes, I have.” What Lily’s definition of useful has become in the intervening year, though, she does not share. Keeps staring up at the stairs, up towards the glass covering the garden, and does not seem particularly mollified by Lucien’s offer. Her lips press tightly at sacrifices, at fear. When her gaze drops back to the table, it’s to her wine glass, which she takes and empties in one long drink. "...Match Day is in three weeks. Would have to work fast. Got a bit more time to prepare after that, maybe. Do I call them or do you?” "Reach out to your former mentors, let them know you will be in the market for a position, soon. I will handle the rest from there." Almost by reflex, Lucien picks up the wine bottle to refill Lily's glass. "We can do quite a lot with three weeks."