Don't Eat Your Phone


cook_icon.gif helena_icon.gif

Scene Title Don't Eat Your Phone
Synopsis Cook talks to Helena about joining Phoenix.
Date June 5, 2009

Boat Graveyard

Making one's way to Staten Island is not easy. Well, for Phoenix it's not too difficult since they have their own means of getting to and fro - but if Cook was able to sneak or otherwise finagle his way over, it's a good sign to indicate he's resourceful. Helena is perched on a crate, slightly recessed from obvious view except her legs, at least from most angles. One would have to be perching at a dead on to be able to see her entirely, or to put a little red dot on her forehead. She's sort of not into that. But she's got an eye out for Cook, and seems content to wait patiently. The weather's rather lovely, too.

Cook has resources. He's smart than he seems, both naturally and on purpose, if that makes sense. He also knows his way with street people; it doesn't matter if it's not Ireland. He is not, however, all that subtle once he's here. He's walking along, trying to spot Helena, and crunshing on a plastic soda bottle. It's making an awful lotta noise.

Helena laughs from her seated spot on the crate. "Yummy, Cook?" she asks of him easily. "I'm glad you could make it."

Cook glances over and gives her a wide, open-mouthed grin. "Everything's yummy t'me, luv." He pops the soda cap into his mouth and crunches down on it. "Saw your interview. Ballsy."

"Thank you." she says promptly. "So you know what we're about. You still want in?"

"I don't I keep hearin' 'bout a curfew an' thinkin' I ain't twelve n'more." Not that Cook looks like the type who adhered to a curfew when he was twelve, anyway. "Sure."

"Just like that?" Helena asks, amused. "You realize we're considered terrorists? That once you start, you're as equally responsible for other lives as you are of your own? That you may be asked to do things - dangerous things, with a minimum of questioning?"

"Do I look like a person tha' thinks things through, lass?" He grins. "Plus, I ain't wanted yet. I can walk down th' street an' not have troops shootin' at me with tranquilizers." Cook reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a bottle cap. "Nightcap?" He offers it. Aw, he's making a joke.

Helena snickers, letting her feet dangle like tempting morsels in a pair of sneakers. "That's a problem." she admits with a grin. "Your actions could have repurcussions for other people. You sure you're ready for that?"

"I figure I can't get you all in any more trouble than you're already in," Cook argues. "B'sides, momma always said I needed t'get more responsabilities; build me some character." Lies. His momma never said anything like that.

"That may be so." she says, dropping to the ground and walking closer to him. The comfortable weather she carries seems to travel with her. "You got anything in particular you want to do? It's a lot of hurry up and wait, and right now we're still figuring out how to deal with a lot of things."

"I can keep busy inna interim." He sure uses particular words for a gstreet brat, nuh? "I /want/ to stop having people telling me I need to be indoors at a certain hour. I'm a nightowl, you know?" He grins.

Helena grins back. "Yeah, I get you." she says. "You didn't eat the phone I gave you, right?"

Cook looks guilty, all of a sudden. "Uh."

Helena makes a face. "Cook, I am not going to go through our entire supply for you. I'll get another one to you, but you have to promise me you're not going to eat it unless you think you're gonna get compromised. And that doesn't mean you're conveniently thinking you're getting compromised every week."

"Nnngh," Cook says, making a face like a chastised puppy. "Do you know how /taste/ those things are?" He sighs, and nods. "Okay."

Helena grins. "There's a good Cookie Monster." She reaches out and ruffles his hair, ready to snatch it back if he snaps his teeth.

Cook does snap his teeth, but it's not at her fingers. He just snaps them slowly, and loudly.

Helena laughs a touch. "I'll send you another phone, and when I have news, I'll update you. I'm afraid there's not much more to do yet, but I do need a few more risk takers, so when we start getting into more ops planning, you'll know. You're a bit too new at this to know our HQ yet, but if you need a safehouse, that information will be on your new phone."

"Works for me. I like easing in to terrorism. I don't fancy it's one-a those t'ings one jus' leap into." Then again, he's Irish.
Helena can't help it, she laughs. "We're not really terrorists, you know that, right? We don't attack civilians, our goal is not to inspire terror, we certainly don't demand suicides."

"You don't?" Cook looks disappointed; but it's fake. "I figure if I call us terrorists I'll get more play, tho'. Chicks dig dangerous blokes."

"I'm sure you can manage plenty of play without it. Just use the old Cook charm." Helena is so full of the wry she's practically bread.

"I totally got given th' eye by a twin th' other day!" Cook pops up, excited. "I'm gonna see if I can get'er sister t'dig me, too. Cute as a button the both'a them."

Helena snickers. "Well, uh. Good luck with that. Don't tell them anything about Phoenix to try and impress them, okay?"

"You kiddin'? I don't need no stinkin' Phoenix!" Cook lifts his arms up and then pats his washboard abs. "I'm fit, girl." Poor bastard. "Also," he adds, leaning over to pick up a stray razor and popping it in his mouth. "I ain't got much to say at the moment anyway, does I? Mmm. Watchout for a cowboy. Name's Buck. He's in town looking to be hired as a professional bounty hunters of Evolved."

Helena lifts her brows. "Buck. Cowboy, wants to be a bounty hunter. Sounds like someone who'll end up with Frontline." She cocks her head. "You hear all of this at Balor's?"

"Yeah. He's gay, too. Sat down and interrupted my date." Cook frowns.

Helena blinks. "He's gay because he interrupted your date?" She doesn't quite follow the logic.

"No, no. He's gay. And he interrupted my date. Two different aspects of his personality." Shrugs. "I don't care where he takes it, but stll, you know, you don't sit down when a guy's chatting up a lady."

Helena ah's. "Well, I care less about him wanting to reach for the soap, and more about him wanting to put bullets in me and mine, you know?"

"Well, yeah, I fig'red as much. S'why I brought it up. He's looking for work in the bounty hunting terrorists business."

Helena nods. "So likely Frontline. Too bad there's no real way to get an image of this guy, we could at least keep a look out. At any rate, that's all I've got for you now. I'm thinking you may occaisionally see a Phoenix member at the bar. We'll probably work out a password system."

"I think he's staying near the pub," Cook comments. "If I see him again, I'll snap a picture. Hell. My friend might have one already. She's a photographer for some newspaper."

"That would be grand." Helena says. "A photographer? Couldn't hurt to cultivate her, journalists can be very helpful."

"I think she's a little bit on the selfish side. She's one of the twins. I'll look into it." Cook is a lot more serious about stuff than he lets on, clearly.

Helena smiles. "I'll have the phone delivered, and you can let me know what you find. I'll make sure to tape a sign that says Don't Eat Me on the back, too."

"Okay!" Cook nods a bit, flicking another bottlecap into his mouth and munching on it softly. "Is this where I hear a sound behind me, turn around, and when I look back, you're gone?"

"Not so much. I mean, do I look like a ninja to you? Although I can do a fade into the mist thing, if you like." Even as she speaks, it's starting to get a little foggy.

Cook watches, visibly amused. "Sexy."

Helena smiles. "Tip of the iceberg for me, ability-wise. C'mon, I'll take you to a boat that will get you back to the city."

"Does the rest of the ice-berg involve my taking my pants off?" Cook asks, collowing dilligently.

Helena snorts. "I'm afraid not. Come on, let's walk."

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