Participants:
| Scene Title | He's A Sucker For Candy |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | In desperate need of more bodies to fill the ranks of Humanis First, Bill Dean draws up a woman from the lower ranks, and inducts her into the inner circle, unaware that she's not quite what she appears to be… |
| Date | October 12, 2009 |
Teargas.
Tasers.
Gasoline.
Bullets.
Gunpowder.
The world is full of people who have the singular desire to set fire to a building just to watch it burn. For the last three months, Candace Allard has spent her waking days running from one side of them, while actively running towards another. With the Chinese mafia at her back, her days have been spent in isolated safehouses in poor, industrial neighborhoods of Queens, Brooklyn and out on Staten Island. Fear, paranoia, hate— they are all just words. Words that she' dealt with under the cover of agreement, under the cover of silent acceptance of this edict that humanity as a whole would be better off if their genetically altered counterparts were no more.
But Teargas, tasers, gasoline, bullets and gunpowder aren't words, they're actions. It's taken three long months of cover, three long months of hiding and running with the isolated members of Humanis First to finally be inducted into what could concievably be considered the "core" group. She's had to do things she isn't proud of, had to watch things that would turn a man's stomach, had to sit by silently as bigotry and hate are shoveled out in equal portions.
Here though, now, it's all hers.
Stolen from her safehouse in Queens in the middle of the night, drugged, bound in plastic zip-ties and hooded, all Candace could think of is that this is where it all ends — this is where her life gets snuffed out and the masquerade ends. By the time the van she's being transported in stops driving, the last thing on her mind is her cover.
That's when the bag is cut free, when the zip ties are removed, and when Candace Allard is given an apologetic smile from a tall, potbellied man sitting one ass-cheek on a headstone in the middle of Calvary Cemetary. "Sorry about all'a that, love." His accent is upstate New York, but he talks with English mannerisms. "You know we all can't be too careful who we let into our little mixer, right?" A white stick is plucked from the man's mouth with a pop, a cherry lollipop. It's brandished towards Candy, and the two men in black uniforms with their faces covered by cloth masks step away from her, giving approving nods.
"The name's Bill Dean," Dean? "an' I'm happy t'tell you that you— missy— have done gone and crossed that final line and made your way to the big leagues, an' just in time too if I do say so m'self." This is exactly where three months should have gotten her, where three months of struggling and lying and deception placed her. This is one of the upper-tier leaders of New York's Humanis First cell. But Dean? The coincidence is terrible.
Candy did indeed think that it had all finally ended for her, and that now she is going to go into that funny black void that she thinks is what waits for her in that funny beyond. Indeed her last three months hasn't been the proudest time for her, or the highest note in her life. She reminded herself of the ends, of what it could all mean for her. That one day she might be able to break the chains that bound her and other evolved, the chains that keep them from getting their true glory. The chains are many and varied often self-imposed, but Candy has made it her goal to at least break through the external ones. The ones put around them by this democratic state, where any view holds equal wait even if it deserves to be silenced.
As the hood comes off, the young woman shakes her head, getting any stray hairs from her face while she struggles up to her feet. "Well, definitely wasn't a first class trip, that's for sure my good fellow," she replies, if the name gets to her, she keeps her face straight, having had more then enough practice at it. Keeping a straight faced while others of her own kind, her own brothers and sisters, were tortured and murdered, sometimes with her paricipating. Her eyes look behind her at the two men, before she looks back at the man in front of her. "Pleasure to meet you, and I'm sure that you know my name, given the manner that I arrived, but for courtesy's sake, the name is Candy," she replies. Looking around the graveyard before she takes another breath, "So, I guess this brings the question of: what next?"
"Well Candy-girl…" Bill is quick to put the lolipop back into his mouth, the bulge on the side of his cheek moving up and down as the stick wobbles while he talks. "Me an' my boys have had eyes on you for a while, since you started nosing around, asking questions. Then you started gettin' involved, doing things, helpin' people out that work for me an' mine." He cracks a smile, slapping his hands on his lap as he rises up to stand, shoulders at an angle as his hands tuck into the pockets of his slacks as he clears the distance between himself and the young woman with slow steps.
"You got brass ones," he nods his head towards her with a crooked smile, "for a gal, anyhow." Blue eyes track over to one of his men by the back of the van, then over to Candy again. "What happens next, is that you get to wear th' secret decoder ring an' drive 'round in the batmobile." A pearly white smile flashes across the tall man's face sarcastically. "More 'portantly, we're gonna' need your help. I got a shortage of boys these days, them fuckin' Phoenix kids have gotten their panties in a twist an' this is recruitment day for fresh hands. I got a big thing coming up, Candy, we're talkin' national headlines big." As he says that, Bill's hands come out of his pockets and sweep to his left and right in an expansive gesture.
"M'gonna need you to be one'a my boys on that job, you dig?" The older man's brows go up, and Bill rests his hands on his hips, looking at Candy up and down. "M'gonna have you workin' under an' ol' buddy a'mine called the Irishman." The what? "I'll be givin' you some contact info for his place in a few days, then you can hear his ol' plan. You think you can follow orders, kid?"
Candy smirks lightly at his remark, if he only knew. Taking a breath she nods her head and then cracks something of a sly smile. "Problem taking orders? Forgive me if I am wrong, but isn't that what I've been doing for oh… the past few months," she asks coyly. An eyebrow is raised, however, when she asks, "National Headlines, eh? That might be interesting, whatcha got in mind?" That smirk remains on her face while she stands there, her hands crossing at her waist while she leans back on one leg. "Well, I'll be sure to pay a visit as soon as I get the info. The Irishman, huh? I hope he has the accent to match…" She trails off, supplying a wink while she stands there. Good ole feminine wiles, or as best as she can bring herself to do at this point.
"Yeah, I've heard as much on the news. Guess they just can't see that they aren't human, and that they need to hit the road. Or extincation. Preferabally the later." She mentally steals herself, trying to remember to keep her voice strong. She can't stand the man in front of her, but she does her best to keep that disgust out of her face and her body language. Her eyes flicker over to the two 'boys' behind her. Looking back at the man as she thinks for a couple of moments, making mental notes here and there.
"You know he's got the accent but m'actually not sure he's really Irish." BIll notes with a thin smile, pupping that sucker out of his mouth again and brandishing it like a tiny candy-coated wand. "As fer what we got planned, you don't worry your little jailbait ass 'bout that, darlin'." Bill's red nose wrinkles at the comment, though she's a bit older than he imagines. Or maybe he just doesn't care. "Ol' Irish'll get you nice and set up with the details…"
Then, as Bill turns side-long, halfway facing the headstone again, he waggles that lolipop at Candy with one brow raised. "An if you think followin' orders was spraypaintin', beatin' up some kids, an' throwin rocks at windows, you're gon' love what I've got planned deary." Bill's eyebrows go up and down in a waggle, and his head quirks to the side, "but'cha have t'wait a little bit longer for that."
Squinting at one of his men, Bill gives a subtle nod, then looks back to Candy. "You're only a couple'a blocks away from the flop-house you're stayin' in. My boys here'll give you a ride back. An' remember— we ain't never met, and we ain't never seen each other. You play ball, and you'll be savin' the world by dinnertime t'morrow."
Candy offers a faint smile, if he wants to think of her as jailbait, well, he can go right on ahead and do that. She isn't about to stop him. A roll of her shoulders is given while she stands there before she says, "Sounds like a plan to me. Though, if I'm ridin' with them again, you mind me not going all blind and rolling around in the back? Bruises ain't exactly the look I love to pull off." She winks at him, before she adds, "And um… they can see through those things right?"
She turns her head to look at them again, before she looks at Bill again, and says in about as innocent a voice as she can muster, "I'm sorry Sir… who were you again?" Eyes going over the cemetery as she thinks of what she is about to embark on, and has to repress a shudder to keep her cover intact, taking a deep breath instead. "Well, suppose I should be on my way then," she says, turning around to look at the boys, "Either one of you feel like being a gentlemen and opening the door for me?"
One of the masked Humanis First soldiers quirks his head to the side at Candy's request, then just shrugs his shoulders and turns, opening the back door of the van. In comment, Bill cracks a smile and notes "Well yeah, bein' in the nice ol' inner circle of this here terrorist clique means you get to ride without a bag on yer head!" As if it's some sort've consolation prize at a carnival. Then, considering Candy's question to his original introduction, Bill puts ihs lolipop back in his mouth and taps his thumb against his breastbone.
"Name's Bill Dean. Used car salesman an' world saver."
Candy grins a little and inclines her head to the side before she says, "Used car salesman, huh? Maybe talk to you about getting my own van like this one. I hear they are rather helpful for certain things." She manages a giggle while she stands there, before she turns and gets into the back of the van.
Well, out of the economy section and into the business, right?