(no subject)

[sociallychallenged]

[Text]

This is Hank Anderson, and I recently got my promotion so it's now Det. Hank Anderson. Which is why I wanted to make this announcement.

[Hank still wants to research into the missing people and initiate his vague plan to devalue the iterations. Right now the public see them as a protective force for good. Hank wants the people to see other fucking people as their reliable protective force. That in the many variations of temperaments and personalities and creative resolutions to conflict, they can find their safety.]

I have a case that could use some assistance from some specialized outsiders. If you could come to me and lay out your experience and training, I would like to offer you temporary deputy work in helping solve this case.

Necessary qualifications include:
-Combat against armed opponents
-Negotiation and Interrogation
-Ability to secure an area until CSI arrives (cursory crime scene analysis a bonus)

Due to Dualis's policy on providing payment through credit, if you would want rewards we would have to attach a name to your activities. However if you'd want to work off-record [which is as close to anonymously as he can get] we could come to some sort of arrangement such as donated payment.

I'll be at the cat cafe to conduct interviews 4:00 to 6:00 in the afternoon for the next week. You can show up when it's convenient to talk. Sounds like a fucking weird place for it, yes, it'll make more sense when you're there.

I've also arranged for donated goods to be offered when people come in and might find themselves in a state of disrepair or any nicer version of saying fucked the hell up. New clothes, medical things like crutches for people with chronic conditions, sanitary supplies like soap and toothbrushes, things of that nature. So if you want to donate something to the people coming in there's a donation box in the dormitory's lower entryway and they'll be taken to the temple.

[Action]

Like he promises, Hank's waiting around at the cat cafe whenever someone shows up. Usually reading a book, sometimes bored, sometimes deeply into it. Right by his side though? A mammoth green cat, purring and resting her head against his arm. She's twitching her tail to and fro.

Hank is pretty sure he'll be able to tell if someone is bullshitting their credentials and whether they'll do intentional harm with their new role. It's hard to do background checks when different universes are involved, but he thinks he's figured out a way to beat the system without having to use any of the department's lie detectors.

Note: Plotting post here.

Comments

Action

[morethanatrickster]

Rather than have some sort of lengthy conversation with Hank before arriving, Loki decides to simply arrive at the prescribed time. The cat cafe reminds him of something he'd find on a planet like Sakaar, and he finds it somehow more comforting than the rest of the city. That may have something to do with fighting his own shadow quite literally.

Something about that cat as he approaches gives him pause, but he shakes it off as residual uncertainty in relation to their recent ordeal. He's all smiles for Hank, though, inclining his head in greeting.

"Hank. I took you for a dog person. What a surprise."

[sociallychallenged]

He's actually surprised to see Loki here. Even stifled as he is, it seems like this work would be... beneath him? Is that the right way to phrase it? At least he's been damn good help.

He stands to reach across the table, offering his hand to do one of those friendly double-hand-claspy shakes.

"Heeey, how are you holdin' up! Great to see you here."

And he actually means it, and it carries through in his voice. "Have a seat."

( text )

[axiomed]

I'm afraid I'm only qualified for negotiation and interrogation.

Would you still like me to come in?

{ text )

[sociallychallenged]

I'll take it. Right now the policy among the iterations has been 'taze first, ask questions later'. If I can cause a little less of that, then I'll feel a fuck of a lot better.

Text

[minus1twin]

Hello Hank. My name is Wanda Maximoff. I worked with an anti-terrorist organization back in New York and I part time as a body guard here. I believe I can help but I haven't ever been to an interview before. Is there anything I should do before meeting with you?

Text

[sociallychallenged]

Don't worry, I'm not the dress code or paperwork type, so no suits or applications necessary. I just need you to be honest with me.

[So far so good, though. People have really wanted to help.]

action;

[notalive]

Connor shows up pretty late to the cat cafe - closer to 18:00. He took a rare day off, so he's not in uniform; actually, he's in one of Hank's most disgustingly garish shirts over a T-shirt with a very stupid visual pun on it that he only bought because it took him a second to understand and when he did he felt slightly satisfied about it. It wasn't very funny. But he bought it anyway.

On the way in, though the staff don't ask him if he wants anything because they're used to his refusals by now, he orders a hot chocolate. With marshmallows and cream, the girl asks? Sure, he says.

He sits down by Hank, and within a few seconds there's a two-tailed, no-eyed cat in his lap.

"It doesn't make any more sense yet." Though the big green cat has never paid any attention to him before, or he it.

[sociallychallenged]

"Yeah. I can't fuckin' make heads or tails of it, but I'm not gonna push it yet 'cause I don't want to lose credibility. Is that the cat you told me about?"

He's pleased as he watches Connor grab a hot chocolate. At least he's figured out one thing he likes. The pun is a little ridiculous and Connor looks so slight in one of his big shirts he can't help but be charmed. It might as well be a jacket on him.

Actually it makes him look 1980s retro, now that he thinks about it.

Hank pats the mammoth cat next to him. "Got a few people interested. Hoping I can make this work. I figure that those guys will lay low with the city cracking down. I don't expect too many problems."

"Lying." Says the cat, before lifting its paw to lick it.

"Problems dealing with them... Not problems problems. I know I'm always expecting those." Oh, right. He leans across the table to give Connor a quick kiss before his chocolate gets here. He's still in the gross stage of the relationship, despite their recent trauma.

[waypastasking]

Hello. I'm Steve Rogers and I meet all of your qualifications

[sociallychallenged]

Great to hear it.

[It legitimately is. He wants all the help he can get on this.]

I just need you to check in with me so I can make sure everything is legit and we're all on the same level.

text

[hellofishies]

congratulations on your promotion!

text

[sociallychallenged]

Thanks. Came as a surprise.

[Especially since he couldn't exactly be credited with helping people during the blackout.]

You doing okay now?

text | un: mason

[merged]

I like the idea of donations. [ meaning: she'll likely donate a few things. She doesn't bother asking about his investigation, aware she'd be no help, but she will offer her good wishes on his promotion. ]

And congrats on the promotion. You should celebrate sometime.

[sociallychallenged]

I've seen enough people come in after a fucking fight. They get their bodies patched up but not cleaned and their clothes are still a mess. So even if they're not hurting, the fight comes with them. Seems like they could use it.

Honestly I don't even know if I have it in me to celebrate right now. Not that I don't love the work, just had a lot of stress lately.

[Maybe that's more reason to celebrate but he's just tired.]

[whosthemonsternow]

South...isn't sure still where she sits with this place, to be completely honest. She's still somewhat sure she's either dead and in purgatory, or got fucked up her last mission and is playing out some coma induced hallucination dream nonsense. Regardless, even as one of the mayor's bodyguards, she is bored out of her mind and itching to do something constructive- or, rather, destructive in a constructively and legally violent way.

So. When she sees the post calling for people to play deputy with the possible chance to fuck up some bad guys, she's all over it. It's mostly for selfish reasons, yes, but hey. Okay. If this place is real, and the innocent idiots bumbling around are actually living, breathing beings that could get hurt or killed by some asshole? Like hell is she' going to sit around and let that happen. She might be a brash, rude, pain in the ass bitch, but she didn't join the UNSC, ODST, and Project Freelancer just for the bragging rights. She's seen what bad people or aliens can do to innocent people, she's seen the lives destroyed, the people lost, she's felt it personally in her childhood. She might hide it under cocky bragging bullshit, but she loves what she does as far as helping people as much as she loves it for the chance to crack some bones.

Before she goes to meet up with the guy, she does drop off some donations. Subtly, discreetly, she slipped in with various clothes and items that could be needed. She didn't even know they needed donations, honestly. She kind of figured the city just...handled things for people. Guess not. But as much as she likes to show off and brag about shit, this is different. She just brings the shit quietly, no fanfare or cocky bullshit, no one needs to know she has a soft spot and sometimes sort of likes to help in less violent ways...

She's not right at the exact time he said he'd be at the cafe, both because she figures more than just her would probably be popping in and she's not going to sit around waiting her turn if she doesn't have to; and because, as eager as she really is, she doesn't want to toss out a sense of desperation to try at this. Whatever this was. Deputy work. Cop duties. All that. She's had more than brushes and run-ins with the law, mostly when growing up, she's not sure how she feels about the idea of being anything associated with actual law enforcement. Still, kinda helping people out while possibly getting to rip someone's spine out of their body? She's all for it.

While she's not early, she doesn't wait until the very last minute either, waltzing up to the cafe about 5 or so. She didn't dress up, she's in a fitted dark purple t-shirt and skinny jeans, big combat boots and somewhat messy blonde and purple hair partially covering one eye. Hey, it was fine enough to land her a job protecting the actual fucking mayor, alright, and at least she's not popping cleavage!

South doesn't get a drink or anything when she comes in, but she does pause just inside for a moment to pet (and quietly baby talk under her breath to) one of the kitties lounging around. Not her fault, it was grey with yellow eyes and extremely fluffy, it demanded attention. Then she's off, eyeing the people sitting at tables until she's sure she's found the right guy.

"I'm South," She starts abruptly, dropping to a chair and pushing her hair out of her face, "Space Marine back home, got a job here as one of the mayor's body guards, figure I probably hammer in all your check marks for the deputy position. Don't care either way for payment, to be honest. Just point me at the bad guys and let me loose."

[sociallychallenged]

Hank told one of the waitresses up front to send people back to him if they can't find him. And, very likely, he should have said so, because it would have kept people from scrounging.

Either way he looks across from him, wide blue eyes, mid drink as South sits and unceremoniously starts to introduce herself. He is, however, collected enough that he doesn't sputter, and he's got that giant cheetah sized green cat next to him rubbing his arm with its cheek still.

He looks over her. Built like a soldier. He doesn't judge by hair color- he lived through the teens, he saw when people stopped caring about 'normal'. He puts down his cup finally.

"Still gotta ask you a few questions. We're still figuring out who the bad guys are. People are pretty hesitant to tell- good reason, too. The victims we've found have been in real bad shape. So have you had to deal with victims of torture, stockholm syndrome, PTSD, that kind of thing? Not from your personal experience, working with other people."

He leans forward, arms folded and cup set to the side as the Lying Cat also listens.

[sociallychallenged]

The billiards hall isn't quiet and that's exactly what he was looking for when he rented it. The backroom is a little more mellow than the front, but Hank's brought a radio with decent speakers. He's got a cake in a box and he's got booze on a food table (along with some plates generously provided for by the establishment) and he's got one of the tables set up so it can look like they're having a friendly game of pool. By the time anyone gets there he'll already be cutting into the whiskey.

First thing he does is turn on a song, leaves it to play through a playlist, and uses that for cover as he's speaking

"So I was right that we weren't meant to go home. Start playing pool. Look like you're doing something." He continues talking, though, not missing a beat. "We're meant to be replaced by clones at some point. The Head's still using us in one of his expirements. Not saying the disease isn't still a threat but this does absolutely nothing for it. Thing is, all the clones have the same memories and and experiences of the originals.

"So, we're gonna need to take care of this problem. And we know there are other people out there in the city that aren't replaced yet." And honestly he's pissed off that the Heart withheld information under what amounted to the guise of, 'you can't handle the truth' when honestly a fuck ton of them already dealt with doubles or dubiously programmed machines.

"I'll tell you whatever I know. Just don't ever fucking tell any of this during one of those meet and greet things," which he's carefully talked around his uneasiness there before, trying not to mention things too specifically, but now he's just going to avoid it at all costs. "Don't talk about it in one of the Head's fuckin' events. Don't do it on the network at all. Always talk in person, fake being casual hard if you can, and always talk where there's a lot of background noise and not too close to be overheard.

"The Heart also recently lost their hacker to a double. Which means his double is out there with all the knowledge to do something about it. Travis was his name. Guy in glasses. As is that guy the Head killed in our memories. His name was Suzaku, I found a memo mentioning him. At best I'd like to break the Head's control over the fuckin' doubles, and we could use these guys as a test run for our hackers. At the very least, we have to know what they know."

Breaking control would be optimal in his opinion. It would preserve the memories of everyone the Head had killed and give them more options. It would also mean if it came to a fight, it'd be less people running at them. But he knows that might not be the end result.

"If you have powers you can't use 'em at full capacity at the moment 'cause you have a chip in your head limiting you. It's also what's downloading our memories. You gotta be nigh on immortal to get it out. But we gotta pool resources. Learn about the forest and the area around the city. Gotta do it quiet or we're gonna end up fuckin' dead ourselves."

OTA! mingle mingle

[notalive]

Connor remembers telling Hank he liked metal. That was before he had any idea what it even meant to like something - he knew only that Hank liked it and Connor needed to get along with Hank. Months later, with his own opinions and feelings, able to pass judgement on this highly important matter, he can confirm - he doesn't like metal. Not as much as almost any other genre of music, anyway.

He read through the rules of pool before he got here, so he's setting up a game as Hank speaks, quick and efficient, but there's a frown twisting his features the whole time.

a) Catching somebody's eye across the pool table, he jerks his head at them, looking between them and the balls. Your break.


b) A little later, he's sidled up to the food table and pilfered a glass of Bailey's and a slice of the cake. He iced the thing - with the very precise lettering to Hank's specifications - he might as well try it with his newfound ability to eat and drink.

And, to any of the guests, whether he recognises them or not, he says quietly, "If the Heart were any good at making their case, we might have made progress by now."

But they're not, they're the opposite of 'any good'. But that's what they've got to work with.


c)There's another guest, albeit not one who paid much attention to Hank's speech - their android dog, a doberman, and as Connor leans up against one of the tables, staring off into distracted nothing at the floor, angles herself right into his line of vision, snapping him out of his fugue. Drink, cake and all, he slides right down to sit next to her - she leans her whole weight against his side, and he wraps the arm with his drink in hand around her.

"I don't think you'd like this," he says...but offers her what's left of his cake anyway. Maggie eyes it, then him like he's just done the stupidest thing she's ever seen. Connor manages a grin, and eats the last bite himself.

"Maybe I'll get you a stomach too."

[mrsarcastic003]

Tim takes a piece of cake to have something to do during this promotion-slash-information sharing party (also to just enjoy the cake, because cake is delicious). He listening to Hank's speech while he gets the cake, and what he's saying makes a lot of sense, considering the attack from their robot buddies. Tim's double had fought just like him, which means at the very least that it could do what he did. Knowing that it would probably have the memories of learning it all to go with it is a little unsettling, actually. He'd already been uncomfortable with how all of that had happened, without adding this... memories and experiences thing into the mix.

He takes a bite of cake. Pretty good.

"Do you think it's possible to break the Head's control?" That would be his preference, too. Does he like the idea of a double of himself running around? Of course not. But he dislikes the idea of destroying sentient creatures even more.

[morethanatrickster]

Loki helped himself to a glass of whiskey as well, as he joined Hank at the bar. He was dressed more simply than Hank may be accustomed to, a dark suit, dark shirt beneath. Casual for him if a tad formal for a bar. He doesn't look the part of a prince at any rate.

He watches the game of pool, not being overly familiar with the game, and smiles as he responds, as though something Hank commented on might have been pleasantly amusing, or a jab in his direction.

"They'll pay for this cheek, that much I can assure you. I assume you have plan?" The question, mixed with the music, could have been anything, even a quest after mutual friends, if the tone was to be followed.

[wickedprayers]

Thane has always been good at blending in despite often visiting places where he stood out. While it wasn't a concern during his training on Kahje he prepared himself during his time traveling the Milky Way looking for work. He wasn't familiar enough with pool to pretend, so instead he crosses his arms — loosely, and 'watches', keeping his stance uncharacteristically lax when he talks to Hank.

He nods his head, and from afar it may just look like he's trying to follow the game and nothing more. There's a lot to unpack here. "Perhaps it would be beneficial for us as a whole to compare our abilities...work together to make up for the chip's limitations." In the event that they end up having to fight off more than they can handle. Even those who came here without powers could benefit in learning how to work with those with them.

"Do we know the extent of this chip's integration beyond the fact that it will kill whoever it's removed from? If death is only the result of a physical removal, for example."

[silentnarration]

Squall does a pretty good job of looking like he has absolutely no clue how to play a game of pool as he listens... And he can't help it when he just slams the cue against the table at the last bombshell. He reaches to touch the back of his head, scowls and turns away from the table and Hank, unintentionally looking like a sore loser.

He folds his arms, teeth grit. What the hell? How is this place worse and worse the more he learns about it? It's not that he's not used to something in his head leeching his memories but this is something else.

"So the people you said were killed and came back... They're all clones?" He's pushing back his anger, half turned back to Hank now. "How do we know who's a clone? Or that we're not already one?"

text

[mrsarcastic003]

Congratulations, detective. [Gross. He Sounds like Ra's. Good thing this is text and no one can see him make a face.] I'm happy to help if you still need it.

[sociallychallenged]

[He takes longer to get back to him than he'd like. The case ended up distracted him. But then so did confirming/unraveling some suspicions.] Thanks. I'm glad it happened.

[But he's still a regular guy. Not a fucking comic book guy, just a regular guy who's dealt with some strange shit. He needs a lot of help.]

Hey, I'm having a promotion party. Can I get you to come?

the latest tag-in, hi

[scathefires]

[jason doesn't bother replying to hank's message on the network, just shows up at the cafe on his day off to talk to the detective about his request. he doesn't bother stopping to order a drink when he enters, just beelines for hank's table, picks up the chair opposite and turns it around backwards, and sits down, crossed arms resting on the top of the chair's back, a light scowl curving his mouth and intense scrutiny in his eyes.]

I don't like cops. I don't wanna be a cop, or a deputy, or whatever you feel like calling it. But I've got all your qualifications, so whatever you're doing? I want in.

[by "in," he mostly means he wants to know what kind of case would send a cop recruiting "specialized outsiders." hank's ok in jason's book, but growing up gotham means he's highly distrustful that police forces, official or temporary, won't abuse their power against the people. if it's a case with a cause he can get behind, sure, he'll throw in with hank. if not? he'll do what he can to thwart whatever dpd has planned.]

[sociallychallenged]

Yeah, well... I kinda need to deputize people on this one. Just to have it on record that the people work better than the iterations.

[He's trying, anyway. Hank leans his elbow on the table and then gestures to the cat next to him.]

This cat, by the way, tells you when people are lying. So I'm gonna ask you about your strengths in dealing with criminals.

[He gestures some.] Come on. Please work with me here. I do want to make human intervention look like the most reliable option.