Participants:
| Scene Title | Brain Food |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Dumortier bumps into a familiar face on his way to potential change. |
| Date | April 12, 2021 |
Fort Jay is a coastal star fort and former Army post located on Governors Island in New York Harbor. Fort Jay itself is the oldest defensive structure on the island, and was named for John Jay, a member of the Federalist Party, New York governor, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, Secretary of State, and one of the "founding fathers" of the United States. It was built in 1794 to defend Upper New York Bay, but has served other purposes. From 1806 to 1904 it was named Fort Columbus, presumably for explorer Christopher Columbus. The National Park Service administered Fort Jay together with Castle Williams as the Governors Island National Monument until 2015, when it was repurposed to once again service official government operations in the wake of the civil war. Fort Jay is now the home of the New York branch of the SLC-Expressive Services Agency, or SESA.
Technically, it's not too late to turn around. Dumortier runs this possibility over in his head several times as he makes his way to Fort Jay; in the middle of his haze he realizes that he's already there, on the Ferry, heading to the island.
The transport is mostly SESA employees, of course, with officials of other kinds who regularly conduct business, and even a couple of people simply going for more intensive services. And folks like him, perhaps, looking to become a part of it all. If you'd told him a couple of years ago that he'd be here, he would have laughed so hard. Life changes shit, though. There are at least two high-ranking agents on his references. Statements from incidents he's been involved in doesn't hurt either.
The weather is fairly warm and sunny, with puffs of colder air on the river. Rene Dumortier finds a seat on the first empty bench he sees, apparently set on staring a hole into the wall until he feels a twinge in the back of his head and angles his attention leftward to find the familiar mystery tugging at his subconscious.
"…hey, you're the Bubble Guy." The other time-bubble agent, he means. What came out is not even close, Rene, come on now.
With a pink box of donuts tucked under his arm, Cooper has a crooked grin while reading his phone, thumb swiping through photos. The voice next to him, tugs his attention away from whatever he’s doing to the young man next to him. “Bubble guy?” He asks, not quite getting the reference right away. “I mean… I know I’ve put on extra weight, but didn’t think it was that much.” He looks down and pokes at his belly, “Admittedly, I’m probably rocking a serious dad bod.”
Cooper had missed the giant green dome, spending most of his tie bleeding out, dying, and coming back again. The only thing left from that day is some scarring on his face, he even seems to have both legs.
Tucking his phone in the pocket of his slacks, Thomas doesn’t take his eyes off the other, seeming to assess Rene. “What brings you to Fort Jay?”
Cooper's assessment of his body gives Dumortier some pause, if only because he's making sure that this is, in fact, the Guy. One hand waves slightly, brushing away the misleading start.
"No, you look great. I mean… the time bubble, from Providence?" Rene shifts in his seat to face the other man better, more sure after these passing seconds. "The not-cosplayers and the monsters? There was a sickhouse, a fucked up bear, a deer-wolf… thing… it was a disaster." A disaster that pulls a smile out onto Rene's mouth, however, his manner now eased to where that lopsided roguishness comes back.
"I'm… here for an interview, actually… " His smile doesn't vanish, simply shifts. Playful to thoughtful, sharp to calm as he sits back again. Positive jitters, if one could say so? "I got a bit of… Mnn." Intrusive thoughts of fire and napalm and metal limbs hover just at the rim of his mind.
"Perspective? Recently." Dumortier tips his head Cooper's way with a slow laugh. "Still not sure how my record will look all laid out, but…" It's there. All he can do is shrug.
“Oh?” There is a blink and then another and Dumi can see the moment it clicks. Realization and recognition dawning. “OH/ that time bubble. Groot!.” Did he just….? “Sorry, there have been like two -” Cooper holds up two fingers - “time bubbles that I was around, but I was mostly dead for one.” He says it like it’s no big deal. Like he wasn’t laid up in bed in a coma for a week.
Cooper gives the younger man an assessing look, “But hey an interview! That’s great. I remember you handled yourself really well when we were running from that freak factory.” He looks down at the box in his arm and flips it around and opens the lid, “Here, brain food.”
He holds a hand over a plain donut, “Just not that one, it’s Al’s favorite.” Thomas looks down at a duffle bag at his feet, the zipper is undone enough that the bars of a small cage shows. The nose of a ginger guinea pig pokes out from between the bars.
A finger also points at a jelly filled donut, “Or that one, you’ll regret it. Word of advice, never eat the jelly ones.” Cooper gives him a knowing look.
"Two?" Dumortier breathes out, puzzling over this a moment. "Yeah, one hell of a factory." He decides on, following the look to the bag and the little inquisitive nose inside. "Hah, I'm not sure what I was expecting…" That wiggly nose is far more charming than the alternative to someone named Al. Human touches soften some of those nervous edges, including the conspiracy around the jelly donuts.
Rene looks gravely back at Thomas, sharp blues going to the box, back, box. A silent assessment is made, and an understanding is reached. "I see. Hit me with the maple glaze, Bubbles."
And because Groot isn't exactly his name either, the blonde offers one up; "Rene. It so happens that I am also a member of the 'I mostly died once' club."
The box is offered up so that Rene can take his choice, “Nice to meet you Rene. Names Thomas Cooper. Though most call me Cooper,” he says with a toothy grin, though it fades at the edges some at the mention of the ‘almost dead club’.
“You too, huh?” Cooper says after a small hesitation. “I was at ground zero for a Humanis First bombing, luckily someone with a rewind button was able to keep me alive long enough that I could get help, couldn’t go back enough to stop me from losing my leg and practically the other one. I’ll take it though,” he says brightly.
“I’m alive” Cooper says, sounding rather upbeat about it. “and … I got a sweet robotic leg out of it.” The leg is flexed, even though it looks normal under his pant leg.
Mindful of his sleeve when he takes a donut, Dumortier gives a dry sort of smile for the introduction and the tale of Cooper's past downfall; sounds about right, somehow.
"Was that the party bombing? Hell." That's the last one he remembers, unless there was one while he was gone that he somehow didn't hear about. That definitely explains the plural 'bubbles'. Cooper gets a dubious look from Rene when he flexes the leg, however, and blondie is bold enough to reach out and dap his knuckles against the leg. Checking.
"Tch. All I got was a skin condition. I was fighting the fires out home. We got attacked by a bunch of robot freaks…" It's as far as he goes, for now. "Anyway, long story short, I turned into a … I don't know. Not a tree. A plant. Mushroom. Or something like that. Woke up like fucking swamp thing and scared the piss out of some agents."
There is a nod about the bombing. “I was there to talk Eve Mas into turning herself in,” Cooper says with a small shrug. “Most wanted to drag her in, but I felt if we just told why we needed her to come in, she’d do it.” He says with confidence.
Eyes widen as Rene delves into his own tale, in fact, Cooper looks rather impressed. Closing the box again once a donut is subtracted and tucking it under an arm, he considers it all. “I think I heard something about that around the office. Or a mention of robots out there. I was in E-ville with my baby girl when the government sicced their metal army on all those innocent people. Those suckers are nothing to sneeze at.”
Thomas shakes his head and gives him a lop-sided smile, “The fact that you’re still alive, that’s amazing and says a lot about your survival skills.” Looking outside at the smoke-filled world outside the cabin, he shakes his head, “Damn… hard to believe there are still that many robots out there?” He doesn’t exactly sound happy about it.
"They've been out there for years. Destroying shit every so often. Killing." Nothing to sneeze at indeed. "That was the first time there were so many… and the one I took on I'd never seen before. War machine and all…" For as much as they scare him, it's a little easier to talk clinically, though there is still an uncertain edge in his eyes.
"I pride myself in surviving," Dumortier is a mirror for Cooper's mood, happy to let calm soothe him, or whatever passes as it, instead of dwelling on scorpion bots. The air outside draws a look as Cooper looks. "My theory is that they get pulled in by concentrations of people like me. The ones out in Jersey… rustbuckets. Hopefully before more wake up they rot first." No love lost.
"Does your daughter remember them? Or was she not old enough?"
“Oh… she was old enough,” Cooper says softly, with a grimace. “Old enough to remember the robots, to remember her mother rejecting her, remember being lined up along a wall to be shot for what she was. Ellen got lucky when the cavalry showed up in time.”
Cooper tilts his head towards the approaching island, “It’s part of why I do what I do. Make sure others like her and you don’t have to go through stuff like that again.” His mouth pulls to one side, eying the younger man.
“So? What makes you want to join the ranks?” Cooper asks casual, genuinely curious.
As Cooper describes what she had been old enough to remember, Dumortier's expression errs sympathetic, a half-wince while he bites at the donut in his hand. He gets it. He does. Even more with the rejection involved, but not for the same reasons as she. From what he can tell, Thomas is doing just fine.
"People might argue that everyone went through it." Rene shrugs one shoulder, a mild frown coming and going. "But I see you. You want a post-racial world or… whatever you want to call it." Admirable. A nice sentiment. One may get the sense that the blonde is a tad more of a cynic in this.
"I consulted on a case, helped Agent Ayers with a few things, he said I'd be good at it. Didn't think too much on it until after… after I got caught up in some shit." Blue eyes light some when he looks into Cooper's face. "And after I found out from Corbin that the people I'd helped with came out of things fine. The one girl… well… it was the tree case, you know it? She'd been half-felled."
The mention of the tree case has Cooper’s smile fading at the edges. “You’ll find there aren’t many in our ranks that don’t know the case. One of our junior agents was turned into a tree. She got better though.” That thought brings back the agent's smile.
“And I know, I’m one of those people, wearing rose colored glasses, that believes the world can and will be better,” Cooper says, having noted the cynicism in the other man. “But, hey, if we don’t become the foundation that the next generation stands on, we will never rise above. Sure some of it will crumble away, but… what was it that ditzy blue fish said in that Disney movie?”
Cooper squints out at the smoke filled air, before exclaiming “Oh!” He grins at Rene. “We just gotta’ just keep swimming’ to a better tomorrow….” The cheeky grin says he knows how corney that sounds. But then he squints a bit, “Or was it ‘Fish are friends not food?” Almost as soon as he says it, he gives a shake of his head. “Naw, definitely the swimming thing.”
Dumortier only met Emily briefly, but he knew that she was the one stuck in the shape of the tree simply by virtue of checking in on them. Knowing that the case isn't an obscured one seems to help his comfort level, somehow.
"Yea, it's swimming. But the other one can be useful sometimes. Rosy is well and good, you do you. It's charming." There's a small amusement in Cooper's digging for 'isms. "Suits you, though." Rene is sure it wouldn't quite sit right on anyone else. It's gotta be the smile. And that at least he knows that not all of it will stick. A reasonable counterweight. "What did you do before all this?"
“Before SESA?” There is a bit of a shrug, “I’ve always been law enforcement,” Cooper says with pride, though he does add a correction, “Except during the war.”
Thomas shifts the pink box to rest under his other arm, giving the previous one a break. “Grew up wanting to be a cop. Went into the academy right after high school, picked up by New Jersey PD, then NYPD… ended up getting picked up by Homeland and then the war hit.” There is pride as he talks. “In the war I got good at smuggling supplies and people for the resistance.”
"You sure we never met before?" Dumortier snickers softly, nursing at glaze on his fingers as he takes periodic bites of donut. Some sugar beforehand should be great. He'd love a coffee though. "I had a couple special friends who just loved to cuff me up."
Ah, yes, two sides of the coin.
"Smuggling is more my style, though." Cooper's pride in it all doesn't go unnoticed, so he refrains from ragging on beat cops. Thumb at the corner of his mouth, there's another small laugh out of Rene, and a distracted look to the window. "I never got into moving people. I'm a scavenger." As if he hasn't stopped- - and he hasn't. "Good money in it if you know what you're doing."
There is a small amused laugh, at the inquiry. “Hey, you never know.” Cooper doesn’t apologize for who he is and was. “Though I spent most of my time undercover for drug busts and trying to solve murders.” He shrugs, finding it no big deal. Through it all the man seems to maintain his brighter disposition.
“And It was mostly kids,” Cooper says, with a bit of a smirk, clarifying on the people moving. “Getting the kids out of the states and somewhere safe. Mainly up to Canada so that their families know they were safe and could concentrate on winning the war.”
Cooper studies the younger man for a moment. “Smuggling too, huh?” He holds out a fist to Rene. “Respect.” There is no judgement on his part, at least.
It may not have been the same kind of smuggling, but the offer of a fist earns a hearty little laugh and a returned bump of knuckles. It's the small things you have in common that get you.
"Sounds like you knew some fighters too. You move the kids with the Ferrymen?" The alternative is a Coyote, but Dumortier gets the feeling that Cooper isn't the type to be in it for that. At least, not exclusively. "And hey, the smuggling kept me… mostly out of the skirmishes, y'know?" Mostly. He doesn't elaborate, instead polishing off the donut.
"Thanks for the comfort food, Coop. J'avais besoin de ça…" The French is whispered to himself, and from the sound of it, says something of 'relief'. "Heard the one I'm meeting is old school, but I suppose we'll see."
The outline of Fort Jay looms through the thick smoke, which prompts people to start gathering for departure. Cooper watches someone pass by, before shifting his attention back to the potential recruit. “Ferry… the Rebellion,” Cooper says in affirmation, before shrugging.
“And hey, no worries,” Cooper says, waving away the thanks, offering a bright smile. “Just a little brain food for all those questions you’ll be getting chucked at you.” He pats Rene’s shoulder, “You’ll do fine, I’ll even put in a good word.” He’s offered a wink, before pulling at his mask in preparation of plunging into the thick grey smoke. .
"I only have the capacity for one set of sticky fingers, thankfully." Dumortier asides, checking the outside air and flashing Cooper a crooked smile. "I'll let it be the maple sugar this time."
This time. He tugs his own mask from a pocket, and then all his new buddy gets is those mischievous fae eyes as the ferry starts its docking routine. "What a pal, spoiling me with all kinds of sugar. Thanks, Bubs. Good to see you still kicking it."
“You too,” Cooper offers in return with a big grin. That grin being replaced by the neck gator mask he pulls up over his nose as a barrier from the smoke. On it is the bottom half of a dog face, grinning big with its tongue hanging out.
Super professional. That’s Cooper.
“With luck, I’ll be seeing you around the office.” Cooper adds the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes deepening. He gives Rene a salute and scoops up the bag with the guinea pig inside, taking a moment to zip the bag to protect Al against the smoke, before being swept out with the sea of humanity.