Foundation Diva


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Scene Title Foundation Diva
Synopsis A pick up game of ball, a diva, and some advice for a new foundation in town.
Date April 26, 2011

An Elementary Schoolyard

Some days it just doesn't do to be out of high school, to be faced with the rigors of adult life or be sentenced to a lifetime of learning. So it's necessary, on those days, to take a time out, steal a couple of hours of free time and feel part way normal amidst all the abnormal. And since Devon needed to get out of the office anyway, might as well find some company to go along with it. That's where JJ came in; the teenager wanted to talk to 'Frontline Guy' anyway, and hadn't seen him since the photo exhibit opening. The call was made to meet at a small playground outside an elementary school, since the weather was far too nice to be indoors.

Devon arrived a little before the agreed upon time. Dressed in faded green board shorts and a gray-blue t-shirt, he'd brought a basketball along with him. Something to do while waiting for the officer to show. The ball is dribbled a few times, the teenager lingering near what would be the free throw line on a normal court. His knees bend as hands grasp the ball, then extend and push the ball up and toward the hoop. It bounces off the back of the rim and angles toward a foul line, with him jogging after.

The day off — or at least afternoon off — for JJ means casual clothes — not that he really wears any other. He's in long royal blue Adidas basketball shorts and a powder blue Chargers t-shirt of all things in New York. Apparently he might want to get in a brawl wearing West Coast teams' gear. A Stussy baseball hat covers his head and Oakleys his eyes, so it may not be clear it's JJ when suddenly the man darts onto the court, grabbing the basketball.

Pivoting, and falling back he lobs the ball at the hoop before stepping out of bounds — a second later the ball is sunk in the net. "Score!" JJ crows happily.

Most anyone else might take offense to the hijacking of his ball, but Devon, who's really not much of a fan let alone a player, merely turns to watch the throw drop through the net. "Nice," he comments as he turns back to JJ. His arms fold over his chest, hands tucking beneath his arms while he regards the Frontliner. The ball, unfortunately, is momentarily ignored and left to bounce idle away from the hoop. He doesn't fully recognize the man, a brow raising slightly over the hat and glasses.

Jones takes off his sunglasses, telltale pale green eyes squinting a bit at the sudden onslaught of sunshine and he moves closer to Devon. "Hey, Dev," he says. "So what's up?"

While waiting for Devon to answer, JJ moves to retrieve the ball, dribbling it back toward where Devon stands before a soft boune pass brings it back to the teenager's possession. "Nothing's wrong I hope?"

A half grin pulls at one side of the teen's expression, and his arms drop to his sides and his posture eases a little. "Hey," Devon replies, shoulders rolling a little. "Nothing really, and there's a lot wrong, but not with me." His grin quirks again, strengthening some. "Things are pretty okay. How're you?"

His hands come out and catch the ball. "I had to get out of the office and stuff," Devon explains, dribbling the ball against the asphalt. "And actually. I got a friend starting up a foundation. I offered to see if you knew of any pro-evolved type lawyers or… things in the legal area that would take references from evolved people. Y'know, those needing advice and such."

JJ's eyebrows raise. "A foundation?" he echoes, and he shakes his head. "Nah, I don't know much about that kinda thing… I mean, I'm still sorta the new guy in town, only been here a few months."

He reaches up to shift his hat so the bill rests at the back of his neck. "What I'd suggest, though…" he begins, brows knitting in concentration for a moment. "Maybe take a look at the Registry, and do a cross referencing with lawyers in the phone book or a list of lawyers in the New York Bar. If they're Evolved… odds are they're gonna be Evo-friendly, you know? And start cold calling, I guess."

"Yeah, sort of a pro-evolved foundation." Devon passes the ball back to JJ with a single bounce against the ground. "Just something more to help with finding lawyers and doctors, other organizations that support the Evolved community." He shrugs, one should rising and falling. "That kind of thing. There's not really a lot of structured support since the Suresh Center closed, just little groups here and there."

He turns slightly, looking back at the hoop. "That's a good idea, actually," the teen remarks. "Checking the registry never crossed my mind. Just started thinking of people I knew that might know or… Y'know. I'll pass that on."

The older of the two nods, though his eyes narrow a touch at the mention of the Suresh Center "closing," as a survivor of the bomb that forced it to. "Not a bad idea. Just make sure to screen the people who work with you thoroughly. Lots of people might pretend to be on your side to get a hand on the information of any clients that you get. The road to hell, and all that, right? Don't let a good thing cause a bad thing."

He turns to look at the hoop, bouncing the ball a few times before aiming and shooting — the ball's got too much spin, though his aim is true; it spins in the rim and bounces back out rather than dropping through the bottom. "Robbery," JJ mutters, before looking back to Devon. "So what's this foundation? Who's doing it?"

"Yeah," Devon agrees, brows knitting. "We're taking extra precautions to make sure certain people don't have access to the database. Keep it heavily guarded like the keys to the nukes. And right now it's just me, the founder, and one other guy. But I'll pass your warnings along too." Can't hurt to be extra careful and keep sensitive information well away from Humanis First.

Devon grins at the shot and jogs after the ball. "It's the Symbiosis Foundation, got space in Harlem for it." His hands grasp hold of the ball and he pivots without slowing much. The ball is lobbed, recklessly, toward the hoop where it hits the backboard and jumps off the rim. "The manage of Tartarus is running it. Melissa Pierce."

JJ moves to jump for the ball, tossing the ball back in as a rebound and sinking it this time, before he grabs it and tosses it to Devon. "Ah, right. Pierce. She was in the dome," he says, not adding much more than that.

"Good luck with it. The Evolved people can use as many resources and support as they can get, but don't be surprised if people are afraid to use the place as a resource. I think people've been burned a few times by too many people offering 'help' and then getting burned."

"Yeah, she was." Devon's hands wrap around the ball when it comes to him, pulling it in toward his chest. "And you're right, they have been. Crap with the DoEA and government sanctioned organizations in general." He pauses and looks at JJ. "No offense, there's exceptions to every rule, and good people in those organizations."

The FRONTLINER smirks. "No offense. I know that I'm a government goon, and government goons are usually worthy of offending, if it gets through their skulls. The only thing I get offended at is people calling me FRONTLINE guy instead of my name." He grins at that.

"Sorry I don't have more ideas for you but the Registry thing. I never needed a lawyer and I don't hang out with the fancy law school types, you know?" He pulls his cap back around to face forward. "Anything else I can help you with?"

"I think you're stuck being Frontline Guy," Devon states in mock seriousness. He bounces the ball off the asphalt, once then twice, head shaking. "But I'll stop. You're too cool to be chartered in with the rest of the government. As for anything else?" He shrugs then tucks the ball under an arm. "Nothing really. Unless you know any single girls looking to make friends with a TV studio intern." The teen follows that with a sly grin, then shakes his head. "Naw, I'm good. You think of anyone that might be interested, though, you can give them my name and number."

JJ laughs at the girl comment, then smirks. "Phone number for the single girls or for the foundation?" he says, reaching to grab the ball mid bounce and backing up as he dribbles, starting to circle the other man. "You got it. I only have a couple girls I knew in your age range, you know. How old are you? Jail bait, right? Don't worry, I got a girl, I'm not checking you out or anything."

He turns while dribbling to make his way toward the basket, one arm out to keep Devon from trying to steal.

"Wait, what?" Devon turns to follow the ball, and JJ, smirking. "Dude. For the foundation. But if you know someone you can give her my number too." He makes a grab for the ball, or begins to, his first attempt broken by a grin. "I'll be seventeen in May, and you know you want me." He strikes a diva pose, briefly, then makes a real snatch for the ball. If only he were a ball player, he might actually succeed.

Maybe JJ lets him win the ball, or maybe JJ is too busy laughing at the diva pose — it seems like maybe the latter is true, but the result is the same, Devon is rewarded with a ball and JJ moving from offense to defense. "You are pretty, but, A) I'm not looking to get arrested, and B) I am sadly and irrevocably heterosexual, but if you were a few years older and a girl, I'd totally hit that." Inappropriate, but he's trying to get the ball back, and all's fair in love, war, and basketball.

"The youngest girl I call friend just turned 18, and she's like 18 going on 30 she thinks, so you're outta luck there I think." He reaches for the ball with one hand, but it's a deke, and his other hand snatches at the ball.

The retort causes Devon to crack and laugh. And lose the ball after only a couple of steps. He's not paying full attention to the game anyway. "Such a tease," he counters, primly and with a huff. All those years of acting and theater coming to play. "Uh, yeah. Anyway." He chuckles and steps in to guard the hoop, arms somewhat outstretched at his sides. "Eighteen going on thirty. I might be able to sway her with my charm and charisma." Or creep her out with his diva pose.

JJ snorts. "Maybe if the rest of you matches your ego…" he quips back, stepping back to send the ball arcing toward the net — but it bounces off the rim. "Day-amn. I used to have game!" he says in faux street talk, but then jogs after the ball. "But I seem to have misplaced it," is added in his usual tone.

"Eh. Let's get something to eat," he suggests, tossing the ball back to Devon.

Catching the ball, Devon shakes his head. "Yeah, must've left it behind when you moved here." Tucking the ball under his arm, he nods and grins a little more easily again, joking aside. "There's a burger place a few blocks from here. They got these milkshakes that you need a spoon to enjoy." Motioning toward the street with his chin, the teenager heads to leave the school yard.

"I drink your milkshake! I drink it up!" JJ says, moving after Devon and clapping a hand on the other boy's shoulder. "Sounds like a plan. I'll even buy." He pokes the ball out from Devon's arm and on its second bounce, he begins to dribble it, apparently planning to do so all the way to the burger place.

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