Logs:Threat Levels

Threat Levels
Dramatis Personae Anette, Dusk
In Absentia	2019-04-24 "I'm not very good at optimistic."
Location BOM - Ascension Island
The front porch of the lodge unfurls its way across the entire front length of the building. Stained in a dark reddish finish, it seems to have been refurbished somewhat recently, the sturdy wood rather less weather-beaten than many of the buildings on the island. A half-height railing edges most of the porch, with a wide gated staircase centrally leading to the heavy front door, and ungated ramps at either side end. Protected from all but the most driving of rains by a sloped roof, the porch has been furnished with an assortment of furniture. Wicker rocking chairs, a pair of small square aluminum tables, a hammock at the far right end, a bench swing at the left. Despite the solid locks on the doors and windows, the front door holds a cheerfully flower-edged mat reading WELCOME. It's a mild night, threatening rain but currently holding off. Still, the sky overhead is cloudy, starless; right now the only light out front of the lodge comes from the light of Dusk's laptop screen. He's currently seated on the porch steps, barefoot, in old brown corduroys and no shirt, a glowing set of headphones on his head pulsing with soft color-changing lights in time with music playing quietly through them. A hand-rolled cigarette hangs from his lips, his brows knitted as he stares down at the lines of code on his screen. Then up at the sky, turning his head away from the keyboard so that he can take a long drag from his smoke. Nothing announces Anette's arrival, not until she coasts silently to the ground, landing gently roughly ten yards from the porch. She gives her wings a quick stretch before tucking them against her body. She glances up towards the porch, grinning when she sees Dusk. Despite the cool weather, she wears a black racerback tank, grey jeans, and combat style boots. She makes her way up to the porch. "Who you hacking into today?" she asks, choosing to hop up and sit on the railing rather than one of the more...practical seating options. With headphones on and his attention returned to his work Dusk notices Anette's approach even less than he otherwise might, looking up only when she's drawn near. One of his wings shifts close to his head, nudging one side of the headphones back to sit behind his ear rather than on it; he stretches that same wing out, afterward, to brush up lightly against the side of Anette's wing in greeting. "Right now? RCN. I have like --" He holds up a thumb and forefinger close together, "this big a window of time before someone spoils Game of Thrones for me and I'm sure as fuck not /paying/ for HBO. Anyway Ion's been pestering me about the next episode so I figured the whole island needed a hookup." His teeth flash, glowing slightly in the reflected light from his screen. "Regan wanted me to look into some Oscorp shit but I mean -- priorities, huh?" "Oh god, don't say a word. I'm....way, WAY behind," Anette says, stretching out a wing to return Dusk's wing-bump. "I'd appreciate a hook-up." She stretches out her arms and grips the railing beside her, staring out onto the island as she swings her legs back and forth, her heels bumping the rails beneath her. "Spoilers are obviously the bigger threat." "See? You feel me." Dusk's quiet laugh comes out in a puff of smoke. "I would not leave you stranded on something so vital. This is the eleventh hour. There's so much at stake." He leans back, elbow propped on the step behind him, and tips his heead back toward the cloudy sky. "-- I /guess/ the private corporation trying to unleash RoboCops on us is /also/ a little. Intense." "I appreciate it. And you know," Anette glances over to Dusk with a grin, "a Lannister always pays his debts." The mention of RoboCops is met with a raised brow. "As if the human ones weren't bad enough. Now we're gonna have to deal with robot ones?" She 'hmphs' and turns back to the island. "I suppose a giant red 'off' button would be too much to ask for." "Hopefully won't have to deal with them for a while, but that's the idea." Dusk stamps the butt of his cigarette out against the steps, fingers closing loosely around the dogend. "Mmm --" Amused, but thoughtful, at Anette's wishful thinking. "Maybe not big and red, but they'll have to have a killswitch of some kind. I don't think /even/ the NYPD is dumb enough to unleash a horde of killer robots /without/ a failsafe." "Clearly you have more faith in them than I do. They're probably just gonna let 'em loose and hope for the best." Anette watches as Dusk stamps his cigarette out. "Isn't there enough things out there trying to kill us off without adding cigarettes to the mix?" "Tsss..." A shudder runs through Dusk, his head shaking. "I'm trying to be optimistic here." He looks down at the butt in his hand, tongue running across his teeth. "I'm pretty hardy. This cigarette would have to try /pretty/ hard." "Sorry. I'm not very good at optimistic." Anette hops down off the rail, dusting her pants off as she turns towards Dusk. "Eh, I suppose there's worse vices out there. Maybe some I haven't found yet." She gives Dusk a brief salute with two fingers. "Anyway, I'll catch you around. And I'll let you know when I've finally caught up on Game of Thrones."