Participants:
| Scene Title | Back to the Office |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Jac returns to work to find very bored new trainees with familiar faces. |
| Date | May 4, 2021 |
The offices of Fort Jay have been quieter for some time now. Agent Byrne enjoys it, though he doesn’t want to get too used to it. Eventually the Agency’s more rambunctious agents and trainees will be back at their desks. Assuming their activities don’t result in something that causes a sudden change in the European Union’s extradition policies.
It’s rare for him to drink coffee in the afternoon, but he came to the office later than normal. He’d planned to sleep in, but his internal alarm clock is too finely tuned at this point, and he was up just as early as always. He doesn’t expect to be in the office long today, so he busies himself by reviewing open casework and outreach requests. For a while there’s nothing to distract him, office noise is ignored as he sips from a mug of coffee that’s only ever at the perfect temperature.
Speaking of rambunctious trainees, they added one or two more in recent months, although a better adjective to describe Kendall would be… enthusiastic. And despite what some people have assumed with him, he really has been behaving himself. Mostly. The fact that some of the more senior trainees got to go off on an adventure just made Kendall more determined to prove himself, but so far the only thing he's been given to do is paperwork. Well, at least paper is a good medium for creativity.
Following that train of thought as he willingly distracts himself from doing said paperwork, Kendall grabs a spare sheet of paper and stealthily rips off a piece, wadding it into a small ball. Arming himself with a rubber band, he decides to slingshot the little ball, and as it goes flying it 'bursts into flames'. It ends up going over the cubicle wall. "Oh shit." Whoops! No one saw that, right?
"Hh- - que diable- - " The hushed sound of someone responding on the other side of the wall is clear enough, though the sound of a slap of a folder is a little more puzzling. A short spell of silence follows before a bristling silhouette peers around the wall of Kendall's work area.
Dumortier is a regular enough face, but at the moment it's a tad warped with the beginnings of green and brown furrows at the outer edges of his features, eyes gleaming with a mild irritation at being disturbed from whatever he'd been working on.
It is less registered on his expression, which has a cruel little smirk rather than a sneer. Kendall gets to see the larger paper ball in his hand before Dumortier chucks it right at him.
"Watch it with the play fire, spitball."
“Mr. Cunningham,” Byrne says as he looks back down from the spectacle to the task at hand, “May I remind you that agency policy clearly states that I am the only person allowed to light things on fire in the office.” His tone is serious, though the subject matter is clearly not. He looks at his stack of paperwork. It’s sadly already completed, but he doesn’t believe in busywork so takes a moment to recline his chair and relax.
A quick look at Dumortier, and Kendall raises an eyebrow. Huh. "Fire? What fire? Clearly you're barking up the wrong tree." And just like that the little fireball turns into a tiny raincloud on Dumortier's desk. Fortunately, it's not real, so it isn't getting his papers soaked. What is real, however, is the ball of paper hurled his way, causing him to duck.
When he's rebuked, he peeks over the edge at Byrne. Given the subject matter, he grins. "Yessir, I know when things get too hot to handle, I'll leave the inflammatory comments to others. Don't want to spark an argument."
“Good man,” Byrne says approvingly.
Kendall's comments, however playful, get a flat frown; Dumortier stands up properly, leaning against the dividing wall. His expression edges on a grimace as he shrugs his shoulders and rolls his neck, a tight stretch that seems to help in tamping down the startled bit of shift in his features. Totally ready to toe up to fire. Totally. See, he's fine. It's fine.
"If you're not careful I'll turn your desk into a stump." Rene's mouth twists to the side, one hand flicking back the hem of his jacket to find a perch on his hip. As much as his initial ire was, it's easy enough to soothe- - even if he can't help but inwardly groan at the punning. "But I've got a monthly mayhem allowance, so I won't."
Zachariah’s attitude toward puns has changed over the years. Suddenly being able to cause something to combust with the last name Byrne has provided countless opportunities for coworkers, supervisors, neighbors, and even traumatised witnesses to make jokes at his expense. As such he has found the best defense to be humorous obliviousness.
On the other hand, he isn’t one to let childishness cause acute conflicts of personality, either. “I would take it as a personal favor if you weren’t in armed conflict when the new trainee arrives,” he says, wishing he had a newspaper to peruse casually while playing down the seriousness of his request. He settles for pulling a touch more heat out of his already chilly desk to keep the coffee agreeable.
"You know, that might actually look pretty cool!" Kendall looks at his desk, and it starts sprouting plantlife around the edge, up to the top of the cubicle wall. None of it is recognizable as any sort of real vegetation, and tendrils of some sort of vine curl around the flat surface, replacing the legs and suspending it above the ground.
Of course, none of it is the same kind of plant tricks Dumortier could manage, being of the less real variety. As such, only Kendall has any effect on them.
"Oh? Another new trainee?" Kendall grins over at Dumi. "Guess you won't be the newbie anymore." Kendall was there a full two weeks before Dumortier, after all.
Though Dumortier certainly spends a few moments looking on in some sort of consternation, and a spot of question in the 'plants' that Kendall has manifested. It's almost like a modeled approximation of plants, really- - like people who can't imagine apples.
"Close, no cigar." Rene clicks his tongue against his teeth, one hand unnecessarily smoothing back his hair as he slides off to Byrne's desk, resting a hip against it as he helpfully ignores Kendall. A smile curves out, "Maybe next time. A little armed conflict. As a treat."
As a treat.
“We can save the armed conflict for Special Operations classes,” Byrne says to Dumortier. “SESA doesn’t have a SOG but maybe someday. Special weapons training regardless.” It’s been an age since he swung a battering ram for the US Marshals service, but he still knows how to swing one. No need to leave all the action to NYPD SCOUT, the other organization he was given the choice to infiltrate by the vice president.
“And unfortunately,” he says with a slight wince, “Technically, you will both remain the new trainees for a while. The ‘new’ trainee is returning to the program.”
"I think we'd all be in trouble if I could make things real instead." Kendall wipes his hand across his desk, and the plants crumble into dust and vanish. "And I somehow get the feeling that it's more like something you would consider a treat, so I think I'll have to pass."
At the news that the new person is a returner, however, Kendall shrugs, getting to his feet. "Ah well, c'est la vie." Shoving his hands into his pockets, he ambles over as well. "You know, I bet I could make a pretty awesome training simulation zone. Like the Holodeck! And best part is, no one would get hurt."
“I like the training that happens in the real world,” opines a younger voice, originating from a head made up of shaggy red curls, the top of which just peeks over the cubicle walls. “It's more real.”
Jac Childs definitely isn't a new face, but she certainly hasn't been seen around for the better part of two years. And it's her face that not only owns the mop of red hair but also voice. Blue eyes stare up at Kendall and Dumortier, though it's the latter who’s likely to be the eventual target of one thousand and three questions. Curiosity flares like a match in the dark, even though her wandering pace carries the teen to Byrne’s side.
Something tells Rene that Byrne's seen his share, so the segue into correcting them brings a bout of amusement with it. Okay, save it. Gotcha. Dumortier flashes a small smile, just a touch wolfish in its angle thanks to Kendall's commentary. Still leaning against the desk, he lifts his chin at the interjection from what first appears to be Cousin It's neice, revealed to just be a girl. An oddly familiar one, though whatever thought crosses Rene's mind at this, he keeps some to himself.
"Well hello." Dumortier has no trouble in meeting Jac's curious gaze, blonde hair brushing against his cheek when he tilts his head and smiles. Friendly enough, despite the laser-sighted study of her. Surface notes for his own use. "You're them, I'm guessing?" Unless of course, they have attracted some sort of following. Possible.
“Ms. Childs,” Byrne says. “Glad to see you made it.” Not made it on time, but that she came in, solid first step in an understandably complex situation.
He sits forward to give his monitor one last glance for updates before tapping his keyboard to lock up. He switches off the monitor and stands, buttoning his suit jacket. “This is Mr. Cunningham,” he gestures to one, “And Mr. Dumortier,” the other. “Both agents trainee, though trainees whose shifts are wrapping up, whereas ours is just starting. I have preemptively responded to a call from the Phoenix Heights outreach center, and we’ll not be dallying.” He smiles apologetically to the clearly very bored agents.
There's a flicker of surprise and recognition from Kendall, and he lifts a hand in greeting. "Huh, fancy meeting you here." Apparently they've met already. "Well personally I'd rather get shot at by a fake gun than a real one. But you do you."
As Byrne mentions having to go off on a call, though, Kendall sighs. "Oh well, one of these days." His expression shifts to one of disinterest as he returns his attention to the paperwork that somehow still remained on his desk despite the earlier attempts to illusion it away, and he sighs again, a little more exaggerated. "Less Bond, more Office Space."
Jac’s eyes tick from Kendall to Dumortier as they’re introduced, even though it’s obvious she knows the former somehow. “He’s dating Brynn,” is how exactly she knows him, and it’s stated as an aside to Byrne, “and Brynn is Lance’s sister.” She angles a glance up at the agent, brows raised like she expects him to parse this as necessary intel like she is. Then, about a second later, she flashes a quick, small smile at Dumortier. A breath follows, probably to start in on an interrogation of the face she doesn’t know; but instead of questions, she exhales and nods acknowledgement to Byrne.
Dumortier certainly treats the information Jac gives as something to file away for later; it seems as if there are new circles to learn, and he is of course happy to oblige that. Jac's interrogation of him may not come, but in his observing he can tell that it would have been otherwise incoming.
"I'd better not keep you then, hm?" In a fashion, Rene molds it into an apologetic thing; more for the young woman's benefit, however, his expression matching at his look to Byrne, which pops back to Jac soon enough. "You'll see me around." The blonde's smile cracks lopsided once more, eyes narrowing in passing mirth. She'll see him around- - and by all means he would love that, clearly, Attention is attention.
“All right then,” Byrne says, pushing his chair up to his desk and grabbing his coat. He accepts Jac’s explanation without comment, though he can’t recall if he knew Lance had a sister.
He turns to Kendall and Rene, wrapping up some things before leaving. “I’ll see about making sure outgoing agents don’t leave empty handed in the future,” he says to mean without an attending trainee. “And, Mr. Cunningham, we’ll talk about getting you involved with live training, we shouldn’t let that opportunity go to waste. We’re off for some riveting graffiti inspection.”
He cocks his head to the side to direct Jac to leave with him. He doesn’t want to draw attention to the fact that she’s under his supervision in a way newer trainees are not. He hopes he won’t need to be for long. Assuming she’s as dedicated to this as he believes she is, he can hover less closely once he’s submitted as much to Voss. It only occurs to him now that Voss’s instruction that he keep an eye on Jac is simply to keep him too busy to follow the vice president’s instruction to keep an eye on Voss.