Participants:
| Scene Title | Be Safe, Be Smart |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Finding another relaxing, Emerson continues to gauge the feelings of her teammates. |
| Date | April 20. 2011 |
Textile Factory 17: Recreational Room
It's been an odd sort dichotomy the last weeks throughout Textile Factory 17. To some, things are business as usual. To others, it's been a hectic scramble in the weeks following the Elisabeth Harrison scandal. Uncertainties and placations are prevalent for some as they grow impatient waiting for something to happen. Yet for others, there is a sort of unsettling lull permeating the air at the moment. This is how Hannah Emerson feels, at least, following her meeting with Elisabeth Harrison a few days previous. There is a part of her waiting for the other shoe to drop, anxiously and nervously.
The rest of her is just glad it hasn't yet, and even among the controlled chaos, is taking this one fact to this to heart.
But even then, there's some things she's unsure of. People she hasn't talked to. Jameson Jones is one of those people, someone Emerson hasn't really had much time at all to sit down and talk with since his return from the Dome, much less since everything more or less exploded at the beginning of the month. And that's really all she has in mind as she stalks down the hallways looking for him. First, a peek in the rec room, then she'll head off towards his room. With Liz AND Felix gone, she's taking uit upon herself to see how morale is among the troops.
The rec room is always a good bet for the young man, though he's been a little more scarce than usual — only around during the mandated "on call" hours or if they have what he's taken to calling "gigs" — the jobs they're asked to do to provide visual and ominous back up just in case things go badly.
JJ, in his Lakers shorts and a gray-tshirt, sprawls on one of the couches rather than playing a video game; a blue raquetball in his hand is tossed again and again at the ceiling to the rhythm of whatever song is fed into his ears by the iPod's earbuds. The television is on and playing the news, though the sound is muted.
Well, it's nice to see that her teammate is relaxing, at least. That, however, makes it rather hard to get his attention from a distance. Stepping slowly towards here he sprawls, she has no idea if he sees her as she makes her approach - but catching that raquetball as it decends back towards his palm should make it clear enough.
She's dressed casually herself, a simple plain white t-shirt and jeans along with tennis shoes being the only notable things she wears. Fingers curl around the ball as she smirks, leaning forward and looking down at him. "You must be really bored, Jones. Did they take your Wii in for interrogation? Or just looking for a change of pace?"
Green eyes blink and he pulls out a headphone even as he sits up with a jolt, like he might be in trouble. "Hey, Em," he says, swinging his bare feet off the arm of the couch and to the ground. His cheeks color a little at the teasing, and he shrugs. "I'm just thinking a bit. The Wii pled the fifth, so they let it off the hook," he quips back, reaching to turn off the iPod, and toss it to the side.
"Anything up?" he says, eyes darting to the hallway to look for any hub-bub that might suggest he should be getting into his gear and sliding down the metaphorical firepole.
The redhead is unable to keep from laughing a bit at that reaction, Emerson pulling her arm, and the ball, back a bit before she tosses it forward and back to J^2. "Nothing in particular, no," she admits with a shake of her head as her arm falls back to herside for just a moment, before they cross and she peers at him.
"I'm mostly just trying to check up on how everyonne is doing after…" A hand raises, waves dismissively. "After everything that happened earlier this month. Morale check, I guess you could say. Make sure everyone's still on the up and up, see if they've heard anything I haven't about what's going on."
One hand comes up quick to catch the ball, and JJ arches brows up at her. "Take a seat," he says, waving her with his hand. "You're tall enough without looming over me like some redhead amazon woman." Green eyes sparkle and he reaches across to where a Red Bull sits on the coffee table nearby.
"My morale's just fine. And I haven't heard anything." So that might be a lie as he had dinner with Liz a few days ago. "Should I have?"
There's a bit of a snicker at that sentiment - it's certianly not the first time she's been called an amazon woman, but it never fails to amuse her. Still grinning, she makes her away around the couch, bending over to smooth out her chosen spot before she sits, legs crossed as she angles her head towards JJ.
"I'm glad to hear you're in good spirits, at least. I haven't heard anything myself." Turning to look back at the TV, her arms cross again. "I'm mostly wondering if you got hear the full report on the transport details that Lt. Curtis and I were assigned to. I was curious as to your thoughts on what happened." A pause. "Off the record. I'm not here to interrogate you or anything, Jones. I'm mostly curious, and if that makes you comfortable or anything, I understand."
The question does bring a bit of tension into his priorly languid form, but JJ plays it off with another bounce of the ball against the ceiling with one hand while he sips from the Red Bull can with the other. Catching the ball, he sets the can down and shrugs. "I read the report," he says neutrally. "I wasn't there, so I'm not sure what you'd be interrogating me about even if you were here to interrogate me. I wasn't on the job and I didn't hear anything about it. Everything that went down was a surprise to me. I'm just the new guy — or I was before Curtis came along — so I don't know much, and Liz always seemed on the up and up to me so…?"
He trails off, then bounces the ball again, eyes on the ceiling.
"Certain people think there's a good chance we're going to get investigated," Emerson replies in a careful and deliberate manner. Those no real banter, no smile with those words. "They certainly would well within their rights to, even though I, personally, don't think it'll come to that. But I could have been interrogating you on that." And there's that smile again, the redhead running a hand back through her hair.
"I am fairly certain Liz always was on the up and up," is also spoken in a very delberate manner. "What happened was unfortunate. Either way, I wanted to make sure you were of the entire situation. I plan on making an inquiry about the… surprise we got during that mission. And I don't mean the partisans, either. I plan on having someone's ass for that, and I want you to know ahead of time, in case it brings any unwanted attention our way, you can be prepared."
JJ's brows lift and he bounces the ball again before finally setting it down. "Well, thanks. I don't know anything about it, but yeah. If you know anyone's coming in to interrogate — er, investigate," his lips curve into a humorless smirk, and it is hard to tell if the slip was deliberate or Freudian in nature — "I'd appreciate a warning so I can practice my dumb look a bit more."
'Be honest, if you can," Emerson says softly, closing her eyes a bit as she leans forward, head proped on fists and elbows resting on knees. If you can isn't given any obvious influence, but a bit of a look is offered. Not encouraging him to lie, but encouraging him to do what he needs to. "But those robots killed more soldiers than one else did, good men and women. So someone has to do something about it. It can't stand." She smirks, looking over at thim. "But I'll keep you posted."
The mention of robots makes his eyes narrow just a little, and they slide away before he nods, before glancing back at her. "You ever question it? This job? The robots, the suits, the tech? It's so easy to dehumanize things when it's a machine that does the dirty work, when we can even dehumanize ourselves by making ourselves into weapons, almost robots in that armor. If we're like machines in efficiency and power… when do you stop thinking like a human and becoming more machine?"
That's not a question Emerson was expecting at all, and though she tries not to betray this fact she can't help a bit of a look of surprise from coming across her face. It takes a moment, before she slowly shakes her head. "The job? No. The suits? No. I believe that this job exists to do good, to help and protect people in an honest way, and that's what I'll continue to believe. The suit, well. A tool to do that. A personal tool, no different than the assault rifles and hand guns and bullet proof vests I carry into combat. I would have killed for those suits in the Army."
Emerson's brows knit together, eyes narrowing a bit before she leans back. "The robots? Hell yes. The people in charge of the job? …unfortunately, as of late, yes. I already was not fond of the machine that Dooley operates, though I know she loves it. But Curtis, he compared those robots we saw to Sentinals. Like, form the comics? That is an unsettling and uncomfortable comparison."
She pause, looking down at her hand. She turns it for a moment, as if imagining the armor on her right now, fingers flexing. "I don't like the idea of having to resort to the armour, of course. I'd rather be able to just step outside and handle things in a better way. But I do think sometimes that isn't possible. But I think it's more about the person wearing the armour, than the armour itself."
"Maybe," JJ says quietly. "If the person's good and not corruptible, anyway. But how many people can say that? I think some people will tend to lose their humanity, the more robots at our disposal, the more machines that do our bidding so we don't have to see the inhumanity up close. Don't even have to get blood on your hands if everything goes right. The suits keep us safer, but safety brings distance, and distance makes it all easier. People like you will be okay, but there are others who'll get lost in it, I think."
He glances down at his hands; like her imagining the armor — his unique in that the gauntlets open to allow him to touch objects at will. He wiggles his fingers. "Sorry. waxing philosophical on you, Em." He flashes a smile that's obviously forced for her sake. "Don't worry. I just need more caffeine."
A moment of silence passes before Emerson nods again, turning her attention up at the TV. "I don't disagree with you," she says quietly. "The more robots, teh more people get detached. Maybe sounds like stupid sci-fi stuff, but I don't disagree with you. I think there's truth to that. Heck, I remember hearing something similar in m awful college psychology classes." There's a bit of a chuckle, Emerson rising up from her seat and hands sliding into her pockets. "No worries, JJ. That's the kind of thing I was hoping to hear, if I may be entirely honest. Just a little reassurance that you have a good head on your shoulders, in these times of change.
She turns and starts off, stopping as passes him on the couch. A hand moves to his shoulder, patting a few times. "Be safe, Jones. But more importantly, be smart." And with, she's on her way out, to mull over the new thoughts that he has given her for the day.