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[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.

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What happened that makes you hate cops so much. I wanna know. Not part of any interview process or anything. I just wanna know.

[But god, thirteen. Now while some kids have to grow up fast, it does piss him off that some jackass had to grow up quick he knew fuck all about an actually truly stable environment. He does realize there was a very good chance that Jason might have ended up in the child welfare system and that wouldn't have done him many favors, either. But Hank tends to be harshly unforgiving of 'it could have been worse' when it wouldn't have taken much to be a fuck of a lot better.]

Or was it just a general glaze of 'bad department'?

[Wanda shakes her head.]

I know. I'll be fine and if I am not I'll let you know and take the time I need to get my head out of my ass. [It happens on occasion and she doesn't have Clint anymore to help her.]

Thank you for this chance to help.

[well, hank, jason is glad you asked. he has exactly zero qualms about explaining why cops are bad.]

In Gotham, where I’m from, there’s only two types of cops - useless and dirty. [and jim gordon, who is an outlier and should not be counted.] And whatever the average abuse-of-power rate is in the city, I’m guessin’ it’s at least double in the poor parts of town, like the neighborhood where I grew up. If GCPD had decent people who did their damn jobs, there wouldn’t be a need for kids like me to take matters into our own hands. And, as I’m sure I don’t need to explain to you, vigilantism ain’t exactly an officially approved crime-control method. So not only do they cause the problem that we have to then work at fixing, but they waste our time by chasing us down instead of the actual bad guys.

[jason shrugs and spreads his hands out in front of him, a nonverbal there you have it.]

No offense, Hank - you seem like a decent dude. I’ve got no problems with you. Hell, you’ve been nice to me when there wasn’t any reason for it. But cops are part of a system that’s seriously broken, and one good guy isn’t enough to change my mind about the crap I’ve seen for my entire life.

She nods enthusiastically. "Yes sir, copper sir." The tone is playful but her expression shows she does understand it's serious and she takes it that way.

"That's what I wanted to offer," she taps on her brain. "I think I could make it where a group of people could talk with their brains to each other. We call it a static line back home. All of us can talk in our heads for a little bit and nobody knows. If we ever need to be really secret, maybe I could do that for anyone you want to include." She's not sure how long she could hold a meeting like that, it's not like she's tried. But maybe it'd be helpful in the case of an emergency where they really don't want to be heard or potentially found.

"Good. Everyone should always ask for help. Human or not."

He snorts softly. Copper won't stop being mildly amusing to him.

"Do you have to be like you and your siblings? Or have you been able to do it with regular people?"

Hell, even just her being able to think at regular people would make her a valuable messenger, a break to any sign of a paper trail.

Sorry to hear it. And don't worry, that wasn't why I asked. More of a "situational awareness" thing.

[He's used to living in a world where people have to warn their children that if cops show up at the door, they have to be careful.]

It's not, though. I probably wouldn't be approving of it here, either, except we're in a place where rampant crime isn't really a fuckin' thing. So the old hand cops haven't had to deal with it as often. It's sometimes a lot easier just to send the iterations. But the people that came in recently are capable. I've been watching and listening. I know they can do better than the iterations.

How about we call you a 'contractor', huh? Just some other name.

Thing is, we'll definitely need these people alive if at all possible. They're not coming back and uh, we need some answers. I want to know if they knew somehow they wouldn't come back, or if it was a happy fucking accident.

Of course I'll want to be there. I never could resist a good party with cake.

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.

[good. they’re on the same page, at least. and hank seems to understand that unusual circumstances call for unusual methods, so that’s promising.]

Contractor, huh. [he nods.] Yeah, I can get behind that.

[jason listens intently as hank explains more about the situation, but that bit about people not coming back makes him sit up a little straighter, brow furrowed.]

Hold up - you’re sayin’ people are staying dead? ‘Cause that’s bad news for me.

[yes, good, joke about your tendency to get killed. excellent play, jaybird.]

"I think it's that or shut them down completely. When they're activated they can swarm people and tear 'em apart. And the clones we met were incomplete. These can have the powers of their originals. It's not just neatly one for each of us. It's a whole city of them.

"But I know they get drunk, they talk about their families, they go fuckin' play at businesses, they eat. They do all the shit we do. There's just something about them that goes all invasion of the body snatchers."

Either way, they do have to be stopped. And Hank, unfortunately, can only do what the mod has given him.

Yeah. So dyin' isn't the best fuckin' hobby right now.

[He points very lightly at him, feigning a scolding.]

So don't get killed. No amount of clean fuckin' shirts'll fix that mess.

Hey, man, it’s not like dying was my idea of a good time - either time. [he throws up his hands in mock defense.] And I’ve got people here who were pretty upset about me dyin’ last time. I wouldn’t wanna put them through that again.

[notably, cissie. jason wouldn’t forgive himself even from beyond the grave for hurting her like that again.]

So what kinda operation are we talkin’ about here? Wacky serial murders? You got any leads?

It will be what he is referred to as probably forever now. Once she decides something amuses her, it sticks.

"We're not siblings." She realizes that probably makes it weirder, that they're all basically the same but not actually siblings. But, it's an important distinction for her. "We fuck around too much for that." It's an attempt at a joke that she probably finds more amusing than others might. If only they knew the extremely complicated relationships that troubled teens end up in when they're left mostly on their own.

"Others too. Sometimes we gave information to Alice that way. She was like you." Regular. "I think she got used to it." Sort of. Not really. But it was useful. "She was the only normal person we trusted to know about us. So we had to tell her things where other people wouldn't know and get scared."

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.

Loki was glad to have been included on this particular guest list, though the news they were provided did little to calm his nerves. What it did inspire in the frost giant was a burning need to burn this entire city to the ground, to Hel with whatever innocent was caught in the crossfire.

He knew that was unacceptable, but his temper was flaring. He was trying to rein it in as best he could, which meant he needed a distraction. He raises an eyebrow at the unspoken invitation and approaches, having grabbed a pool cue, following suit of the others around.

"You're Connor, aren't you?" He nods before he has a chance to respond. "I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with this game. Care for a lesson?"

"Best plan I got relies entirely on our hackers." Hank grimaces a little. "I know to accomplish anything, we're gonna need what those two men knew. I know there are doubles out there with all their knowledge. So either we make them think for themselves, or else they can mob us when the Head feels like it. Or we can turn them off. Keep in mind, whatever that thing's done to us, it can turn off our powers completely. We can be sure we can handle this shit and then he can just go, 'Yeah, now try it.'

"If we can't make it by maybe... tenth, eleventh month. We should probably fuck off somewhere and go into hiding until we figure out a solid solution."

Hank rubs his beard.

"If we can find an immortal of some sort, it'd help us get that chip. Right now if you remove it, the person dies. But if you come across someone that wouldn't die for whatever reason? Then that'd be something else we could fuck around with. I don't know. Maybe there'd be a way to short it out, too."

A lot of questions to be answered, and a lot of info he needs.

Drug dealers. But all we know is their boss is a woman, we figured that out from notes around the bodies, the materials taken from one of their residences. But we don't know her name and we don't know her location or anything.

This is pretty new though. She's gotta be spreading out. There are two crime families to the north and south- mostly white collar shit. Protection money. Smuggling.

[Honestly, it makes him wonder if any of the mobsters could be protecting humans from doubles. It's now a point of interest.]

They'll probably have people that can tell you what they know. My bet is the people working for the dealer are too fuckin' afraid to talk.

"I don't know why I thought you were. I guess it was how you talked about 'em."

He blinks hard, once. But, well... "I guess not being related is a pretty good prerequisite to fuckin' around." And that's really all he can add to that without being more awkward than he is. Which is pretty fucking awkward. It's a talent of his.

"Anyway, yeah. It'd be helpful." He's making a note of it. Especially if they have to warn people someone's coming. "Just be aware some people have powers, too." And if he's right, those people are doubles. They'd have the same abilities that their originals had- and wouldn't be afflicted with the forced limitations. Her communication might show through; another thing they'll have to be careful.

Those are the images flashing through Connor's head as well - interacting with and watching a department of people who he had no reason to ever believe weren't human. And if they don't know what they are - even if they do - what makes them less than real people? Who is Connor to say that they're not real?

Good idea. Not that the idea of being a fugitive...again, sort of...appeals to him any, but this time - he won't be alone. And things feel more hopeful for that. (The very fact that things feel at all like anything helps) He strokes Hank's hand with a thumb, watching both their conjoined hands like he can see the data transfer going on if he watches closely enough.

They didn't listen to anything either of us told them, he thinks, and he can't help the contempt slipping into his thoughts about the Heart now. All their lives at risk, and the Head all the more on the lookout - possibly for everybody who showed up for that meeting as well.

At this stage, Connor doesn't see that they have much choice. If they turn the Heart in to save the people in the dormitory, all it does is extend their own lives a few more months before the Head gets rid of them anyway. Work with the Heart and what chance do they have before the reckless behaviour of almost everybody involved kills them all?

What do you think? The thought almost tentatively passes between them.

I'm not gonna pledge any loyalties, that's for damn sure. I'll work with people I know I can count on and that's it. He exhales. There are woods around. There's mines. There's secret spaces to stash away. If these drug dealers can stay out of iteration vision, if the Heart can, then they can, too. If they have to run, they'll run.

It's a desperate sort of situation.

"Is this what it was like before?" Hank asks out loud, finally. Meaning that ship, the attack of the federal agents, the subversive planning. It was just days of action, an aggravated, overquick situation.

Connor's only told him so much about how it was.

His jaw worked as hey processed what Hank was saying. It didn't sit well with him, nor should it, but he'd been at a disadvantage before. He could handle this one, too, and the humans here were proving more and more capable as time wound on. "I can manage without my magic." He had before, and he could again. He'd have to begin practicing. Relying on the abilities afforded him by his powers only to have them stripped away after nearly a thousand years left one a little rusty.

"Or someone willing to die for the cause." It was spoken partially in jest, a sardonic critique of the enormity of the situation they faced. "A worst case scenario, of course." There was no need for Hank to think he was willing to sacrifice others for their salvation, though he certainly was. "A soul forge would be useful." He shakes his head. "It's something akin to medical equipment, back on Asgard. It allows you to map the internal environment of a man without going inside."

"Good to know. But I'm gonna do what I can to see if we can get around that."

Even if he's a human, and his greatest skills are gathering information by being a friendly giant and being a pretty good task force runner.

"Both the powers and someone dying. Maybe if we could get our hands on some specific modification gear. Again, we'd need a tech person to tweak it and know what we're looking for. Or just... fuck, who knows. A fuckin' soul forge might be laying in someone's basement. It's worth looking for."

He wouldn't know it from a hole in the ground but Loki could at least recognize it. "We should also probably start looking for a way to tinfoil hat it, you know? Just block off the Head's access or control to it. Maybe if people are dying and not coming back, he's not gonna notice if people go off the radar. Leave no fuckin' stone unturned, right?" He gets that they might need to take some losses but he's gonna go for the biggest fucking win.

"We've always been together so I guess we kinda can act like siblings." From birth they were always around each other. Or connected. She grins, practically feeling his awkward blink. "Usually it is. Unless you're really weird. And we're not that weird."

"I want to be helpful!" she looks excited about the idea that he seems to like her offer. "I know some people have powers. I'll be careful."

"A soul forge would, indeed, be useful. They can be used for healing as much as for exploration. If we could manage that without the intervention of our benevolent hosts it would put us well on the way to autonomy." Which they sorely needed. It was becoming increasingly clear the Head needed to be segregated from them.

"Hmm," He's thoughtful and quiet for a moment as he brainstorms. "The Head collects all our memories through this chip?"

"Yeah. Which to me says that eventually, our head's will catch up with us. He'll start collecting what's happened since then. Or he'll start bringing people in and chipping at their memories. Right now it's actually pretty lucky that we fuckin' told off the Heart-" most of them anyway "-because it'll be harder for them to keep us associated if the iterations drag one of us in."

But it will catch up with them, he's sure of it.

"So, I guess the options are finding a soul forge or something similar, finding someone technologically or magically capable enough to build something like a soul forge."

They need something to look into their heads thoroughly, too. Most of the tech here is probably set to not pick up the chips. Maybe all it needs is a little bit of adjusting.

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a) because it's about time Loki meets Connor

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