Participants:
| Scene Title | Bold Assertions |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | There are some made on either side as a trio of Institute employee's set out to try and make some sense of the dome and perhaps find it's source but run up again some resistance in very short order. |
| Date | February 3, 2010 |
Queens - Coastal
Stephen King could appreciate the unfolding scene.
Perhaps, only Stephen King could have imagined such a scene as what the people who have resided in queens are being treated to.
It's been three days of the unsettling sight of the dome as it arc's across the sky, separating the scared inhabitants from the rest of the world, entrapping everyone beneath it's faintly luminescing guardianship as the snowflakes outside of it fall against the nigh invisible surface. Something so eerily beautiful that spelled doom for so many already, directly or indirectly.
The sound of the boat could be heard on the river by those who were down by the shore near the Queensboro Bridge or what remains of it. But a fog created by the difference in temperatures between the water and the air above keeps the source of the sound invisible. The homeless population that has sought refuge in their little shanty town at the park have drifted towards the sound in hopes that it might bring with it help, news, something other than trouble.
The bow appears, and then the tips of black weapons, soon followed by the whites of the biohazard suits that retrievers wear, faceless nearly behind the masks and yards of protection. They hold their weapons active and operate the heavy duty and flashlights on the rescue boat, making sure that they don't run into anything in their attempt to get to shore.
half of the scattered handful of people who have emerged from elsewhere at the sound have turned, backed away and go off to who know where and those that remain are sure that they are hallucinating, that the dome has done them in. Others watch in fascination at the sight, deer in headlights. Looting has not stopped, people breaking into wherever it is that they can get into, every man for himself, but within this more homeless population where everything you have is on your person, unknown to this small group, it's been far different, but they'll find out soon enough.
Brennan stands near the back of the boat, his own flashlight on and looking at a map that someone in the Suresh Center had dug up. Reports had put the Queensboro park as the possible epicenter or even the bridge itself. With orders from on high to locate this individual and subdue him, given out to anyone with connections with the institute, Brennan, Odessa and Bella were out, on a boat headed to Queens. Brennan to negate without needing to waste precious negation gas, Bella to help with here people skills nad observation. Odessa…
Odessa was brought along to stop time if they found their culprit. The retrievers were there to retrieve if they found the individual, and to provide security.
The boat lurches to a stop, drifting the rest of the way in, looking for a place to snuggle up to the shore so to unload precious human cargo. "Everyone good? Got your badges out?" They would likely be out here for a few hours, well into curfew even which was still enforced in the dome. But hopefully, they might find someone, or at least…
something'
Going for one out of two, Dr. Sheridan has her badge borne with dubious pride, though her goodness, either in the disposition of her mood or the quality of her character, is pretty damn doubtful if you know the first thing about her. Her dull normal cowardice has done as much to keep her in line, following orders, than it has to slow her reaction times to said orders. She's still trying to walk a fine line between useful and resourceful, the latter being a state, in her mind, leading to deployment and expenditure. Neither of which she's excited about.
She is excited about the prospect of going home, however. Hopefully in good enough time not to find an emaciated feline corpse in her hotel room. The maid would surely at least let the critter out into the bitter chill of winter, to die in the cold, well outside of Bella's realm of personal responsibility. Not that she could be blamed even if it did starve in her room. As far as acts of God are concerned, giant forcefields are pretty friggin' divine in their intervention.
Bella adjusts the black circumference of her beret and peeks over the shoulder of one of the smaller retrievers, viewing the confused and frightened faces of the vulgates on the approaching shore. A glance is cast towards Harve, who receives a thin smile that isn't meant to seem insubordinate, but with her track record… A light tap of the badge on her breast does indicate she's towing the line. Why in God's name wouldn't she, after all? Odessa remains, however, Bella's human connection (awesome choice, by the way) and as they approach their potential disembark, she reaches over to tug at the other woman's sleeve.
"If things gets ugly," the redhead requests, "please don't feel shy about saving me." Just in case 'Dessa had an illusions as to Bella's desire to tough the least of things out.
Odessa slides a grin over to Bella, adjusting the position of her badge at her hip. Much less visible than her counterparts, but still there if one seeks it out. "Be brave, Doctor Sheridan," she teases in a quiet whisper, nudging her head against the other woman's temple. She's the first off the vessel, if only by virtue of her being able to cheat her way to the front of the line. Normally her white hair would be pulled up on top of her head in a ponytail so as not to let the wind whip it into her face while on a mission. But inside the Dome, well… Weather is much less of an issue. And wearing her hair down provides a little bit of extra warmth where she's lacking a hat.
Very berry-pink snow boots crunch on the shore as Agent Price heads forward and surveys their surroundings. If she's honest, she just wants to put some distance between herself and those retrievers. Before she actually indulges in the shiver creeping along her spine.
It's a little tricky to disembark in that it's not a marina proper with docks, but retrievers hop out, offers hands up to those who need it. When most are off save for the pilot who's guarding the boat, Brennan gets the other two women into a huddle, shining his light down on the map. A badly drawn circle, a game of connect the dots at least on the roosevelt side of thing and some in queens, mark where incidents happened that determine where edges of the dome are. The water wall is harder to determine.
"So the homeless park that's here. That's where we want to start looking. Ask for registration cards, those who don't have one, ask if they're evolved and what they can do, if they know, if they don't know or just won't offer it up, I'll negate them. It's … unorthodox but…" But that's the way it is. "Ask if anything strange happened, if they saw anything other than what happened on the bridge. anything strange, any strange light, anyone having a … seizure or just outburst"
Some part of Bella wants to be snarky and comment on how it's a rather grand assumption to presume that the Evolved are behind this event. That part of her is, however, contentious for the sheer sake of it, not operating under logic or any good reason. As assumptions go, it's far from grand. Not far enough at the end of her rope to let this petulant bit of herself have any free reign, she peers at the map with visible attentiveness, though honestly she's not so good with maps, squinting at the space Brennan's flashlight illuminates. "What capacity are we acting in?" Bella inquires, "I'd suggest being as non-threatening as is possible when moving with a battalion of masked men with guns. Might I suggest we- uh- perhaps let our escorts hang back a little? This will go more smoothly, I imagine, if we appear as doctors rather than enforcers."
Single blue eye slants back the way they came, over the river and vaguely in the direction of the Suresh Center, then back to Doctor Brennan. "When we're in that building, you are my boss," Odessa murmurs softly, so as not to carry to the retrievers, "no question. But out in the field, I'm senior agent. As such, I expect that you will follow my lead if and when I give you an order." She lifts her brows as if to ask is that understood?
"We need these people on our side, and willing to cooperate. Registration is my secondary concern right now. Right now, we just need to know if anybody's seen anything. If the situation calls for it, we'll ask for registration. If we start asking for cards up front? People are going to clam up and not want to say two words to us." Agent Price peers down at the map briefly, and then up from their little huddle, to the people gathering. "We need them to see us as the solution, not the enemy." She nods to Bella's suggestion. "We should only call in the retrievers if it's absolutely necessary." She didn't have retrievers at her back in Tajikistan. But she did have Agents Sawyer and Boyce. And while she's glad they didn't get trapped in the Dome, for their sakes, she certainly wishes they were here. "We need to keep our minds open to the possibility that this is some kind of new technology. Don't be swift to blame the SLC-Expressive."
"I wouldn't expect to bring the retrievers in at our back Doctors" Brennan points out, looking between the three. Odessa's instructions bring about raised brows from the physician but here isn't the time to be playing who's got the seniority. Not when there's homeless vagrants - and some not vagrants - that are watching with no small amount of trepidation. boundaries can be laid out later in private, behind solid walls. For now there's no agreement nor disagreement spoken or even bodily given.
"I'm not discounting that this might be technology of some sort Doctors. I've seen first hand some of the institute technology and their capabilities. Hence we are at the supposed center of the event, and if it is technological, we'll find it soon enough and be able to set up security around it and see if there's not someone who's capable of disarming it. But those above us in their infinite wisdom have deemed it an SLC event and so we're going to go off of that conclusion first and foremost and techological nature second."
Brennan turns to the retrievers, calling them over. "Dr. Price asks that you remain back, and that we will call you in when we are in need of help or should we locate the individual or item that's causing the dome" There's a shared look between the retrievers and a curt nod, the quarter remaining where they are and now Brennan looking to Bella. "we're going to inquire politely, if they might be willing to show us their cards. We're not going to press, just ask if they're SLC positive, if they are, but no card, like I said, we'll negate, see what happens, if nothing happens, we move on. No reporting, no names taken down, nothing. Now lets go, we're not going to have much time over here"
Bella's reaction to Odessa's bold assertion of command and following triumph of principle is not one she'd like to own up to. Her gut reaction is a pang of awkwardness, and a free floating shame that can't seem to choose an appropriate source. She bites the inside of her cheek for a moment, wanting a competing sensation, something to make it easier to suppress. And suppress it she does, replacing it with a more appropriate sense of pride, maybe even admiration. A little delicate, from hasty construction. But it holds up.
Still, for all she's an idealist outside this unyielding geometry, Bella still asks: "Uh… what are th side effects of your negation? Couldn't- uh- couldn't we potentially just… briefly negate each person one by one, discreetly? Effects on a structure of this size would be pretty abrupt, I'd imagine, if the source was blocked."
It doesn't escape Odessa's notice that Brennan doesn't yield command to her, but she also doesn't make a point of pressing the issue, either. Not here. Not now. She offers only the sliver of a smile and sweeps her arm toward the gathering of those displaced by the various disastrous events that have occurred in New York City over the past four years. The Dome is really only the most recent in a string of many. A look is flashed to Bella. One that doesn't really convey anything. Not annoyance, or support. It's just a look. "After you, Doctor Brennan."
Now is not the time for a great many things, Bella is about to get an answer, might get an answer, was likely going to get an answer to her questions about his ability.
He opens his mouth turning into the directions they're going to head out and finds his words dead on his tongue as people start to emerge. What had been a handful of people watching warily had doubled then tripled in number and for all that the trio had agreed that they wanted to be as harmless and non-threatening as possible, perhaps they hadn't when people are holding real and makeshift weapons. Guns in hand, long pipe broken off from elsewhere in Queens and brandishing it like baseball bats. There's even baseball bats, shovels in the hands of the thirty odd people who had shown up. And there seem to be more coming, murmuring amoung themselves.
Oh, fiddlesticks.
Bella feels a sense of profound alienation right about now. The kind that tends to set in when things don't make any fucking sense in her life. Her bar has, admittedly, been set pretty high of necessity, but… but this? Makeshift weapons? Given a choice to either let the alienation settle in for good, a state of tharn (as Stephen King might reference) that would render her temporarily useless, or (the other choice) to actually make a stand against the rising tide of bullshit (as she thinks of it), presented with these choices Bella decides enough is enough. This is an urban uprising too far.
"Good evening," is spoken maybe a little too quietly, before Bella remembers to project, "good evening, everyone. I'm Dr. Isabella Sheridan, and these are my colleagues, Dr. Harvey Brennan and Dr. Odessa Price. We work at the Suresh Center. We're here to look into the situation that we've all been landed in," she lifts a hand pointing up at the shielded sky, "we'd really, really appreciate it if you'd lower your weapons. We're not armed, and we mean you absolutely no harm."
At her sides, Agent Price's fingers twitch restlessly, though her gaze over the crowd and her colleagues remains impassive. She stand back behind both doctors and watches things unfold, assessing how they both handle the situation.
Brennan and Bella are missed by the projectile - the thrower has really bad aim - and a hefty rock making ti's way towards the blonde, likely to hit her shoulder if she doesn't use her ability. Bella's greetings seem to have gone and tossed to the side as more individuals in the back are coming after scrounging up weapons. Those in the front begin to rush forward, a handful shouting that the trio of physicians needs to leave now, they're not wanted here. The Retrievers start to move forward, brandishing their firearms at the ready, not seeing the rock in the air due to absence of good light. "Doctors!" The modulated voice calls out from their suit.
The rock appears to simply disappear from sight. Though if one were to look for it, they'd find it at Agent Price's booted feet. "You know the easiest way to negate a crowd?" Odessa muses low under her breath. A small smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth as she extends one hand out in front of her and holds fast the growing and charging mob, suspending them in time. Her head tilts to the left, leaving her right side facing toward the sky as she peers from the corner of her clear eye, as if watching for the Dome to flicker away and die.
See, if they had just started with leave now, you're not wanted here no one would have had to have wasted valuable time and effort lifting and hurling any rocks, much less freezing time. Entirely. For all those people. Bella hasn't actually seen quite as dramatic a display of Odessa's gift as this, and her shock at the sudden halt of all those people manages to exceed her shock of almost being mobbed.
Thank goodness she told Odessa not to be shy, she thinks.
"I think we need to leave before people get hurt…" Bella says, with a hollow sort of realization in her voice, "could- could we maybe do that?" she starts to take steps back towards the boat, and the retrievers.
The small group has stepped out of time thanks to Odessa and her manipulation of it. The retrievers were ready to toss out smoke - not the yellow kind - and help make for a hasty retreat but Odessa has done the next best thing and Brennan is already backpedaling, nodding to Bella. "I think that is very wise." He echoes, turning and heading for the boat, making sure that the others are following. Strategic retreat so they can watch from afar, or at least he intends to ask them to do so.
Above them, even as the small group starts to make it's way back to the rescue boat and it's waiting pilot, the dome still stands. Frozen in time like everything else but unchanging.
Odessa turns her back on the crowd. Nothing changes. They're still held in place, despite the lack of her severe gaze and outstretched palm to seemingly hold them there. "Congratulations. You've learned the hard way that the common people don't cooperate with people with badges and hazmat suits." To her credit, she doesn't roll her eyes, or glare at either of her counterparts.
"They were uncommonly well-armed," Bella says, tartly in fact, trying to contextualize the presence of weapons as 'rude' rather than 'frightening'. That's how she's prefer to form this particular memory. Fear really wears you out. Rudeness gets you (if you're Bella) worked up. She is wasting no time in getting back to the bastion of the boat. She doesn't make further commentary, risk suggestions of alternatives. She's given this up as a bad thing. She wants to go home, however contingently it may, in fact, be home.
"Then take it up with our superiors Dr. Price and ask them to go without them next time. We were just going by their instructions as they value our lives probably far more than that of anyone else here other than the person responsible for this event, if it is indeed a person."
Brennan's not a stranger to a situation like this in his times spent in other countries. At least it was just a rock but once he's in the boat and looking over, the frozen people all stuck in their various states of unrest, he looks uncomfortable. The retreivers wait till everyone's in, the pilot ready to back out when time starts again now that they have a head start on the group.
"You're right though Dr. Sheridan. "most people back away from the white suits. They didn't"