Home Cooking


curtis_icon.gif elisabeth2_icon.gif

Scene Title Home Cooking
Synopsis Sometimes the way to a man's brain is through his stomach too.
Date Mar 26, 2011

Textile Factory 17

Horizon training down at Annapolis is over, or at least, over for the moment. Curtis has been back since last night, though last night was spent doing two things, eating a truck load, and then sleeping off the exhaustion from the intensive training. Today he's up and about though. He's got a gym bag in hand, and is dressed in a pair of nylon shorts and a tank top. His hands are taped up, as are his feet, a pair of flip flops on them, but he looks a little lost as he searches for his obvious destination of a gym.

A hand lifts up, fingers scritching at the side of his neck as he peers about himself, then gives a light shrug and starts looking around for someone that doesn' tlook like they're incredibly busy so he can bug them for a location on the gym and not stand around looking like an idiot further.

Elisabeth is letting herself back into the tower, heading toward the barracks. She's dressed casually, in a pair of scuffed up, worn, tight and comfy jeans and a heavy hooded sweatshirt with her sneakers. Her hair is loose, and she's very clearly had at least some of the day off. As she walks through, she spots Curtis and his… are those flip flops? "Get lost on your way to the shower, soldier?" she asks teasingly, crossing her arms.

Curtis puffs his cheeks out lightly, stretching the scars on his cheek before he lets it out and is just taking a step towards someone who looks not entirely busy when he hears Elisabeth's voice. He turns on the spot, the sandal squeaking lightly on the floor as he turns. "Yeah, decided to take a detour through the factory on the way to the bathroom, figured it would make the trip worthwhile." He flashes her a broad smirk, amusement playing thorugh the man's eyes as he crosses his thick arms loosely across his chest. "I am having a great deal of trouble locating the gym without asking for directions. And you look like you've had a rather nice comfortable day ma'am." He nods hsi head towards her jeans and casual wear.

"Everyone's allowed a break once in a while, Mr. Autumn," Elisabeth retorts, her amusement slipping behind a slightly defensive tone. "C'mon, I'll show you the way to the gym." She starts walking, asking as they move, "I understand your armor training went quite well. You managed not to make the techs cry." She slants him a look. "That's better than Ivanov did."

Curtis blinks just a couple of times at that statement, his lips pursed a moment or two in thought. "I wasn't being reproving with the statement ma'am. It was more an observation than anything. Noticed it… commented on it." His broad shoulders give a slow shrug, upwards and then back down. "Thank you ma'am." He offers, shouldering his bag a little more as he turns and begins to follow her through the building. "I thought it did, but wasn't sure. I'd seen what the suits can do first hand, so had a good idea of what they were capable of." He barks a quick laugh at the mention of Felix. "I would imagine they weren't happy after he was done. I think I'll need some changes though, since I move quite a bit faster than most people, combined with strength and endurance my suit might need to be … modified?" He shrugs one shoulder in a roll and walks along behind Elisabeth.

"They're already working on the modifications," Elisabeth tells him. "Your suit will be here by midweek. We've got a couple of other officers on board with superhuman endurance and the like, so yours won't require nearly as much tweaking as Felix's did." That last with a smirk. "They had to get him a whole new set of armor when he sheared the first one to smithereens on the athletic field. It was … amusing and sad all at the same time to see a Russian standing on a football field in his skivvies while three techs stood like codfish and one whimpered." The memory brings a wicked smile to her features. She enjoyed that moment immensely. Truly.

Curtis can't help but chuckle lightly at the mention of Felix's experiences with the armor. "Yeah… that would be rather amusing to have seen. I'm glad I didn't upset the techs, or should I be insulted that I didn't upset the techs?" He lets an eyebrow slide upwards as his steps carry him along at her side and a couple of steps behind her, his lips quirking at the idea of it all. "But, happy it will be ready and there's no issues." He winks over at her, his flip flops clapping on the floor all the while.

As she walks with him, Elisabeth just shakes her head. "I'm sure you'll make them cry at some point. We all do." She pauses. "Except me. I have a tendency to remove the helmet and it usually makes them all cuss at me," she admits. Glancing at him, she shrugs. "I'm trying to be better about it since they modified the helmet for me, but…" She takes him down the hallway and pulls open the door to the gym. It's fully equipped and well stocked. "Here you are. It sees a decent bit of use, but not usually on a Saturday night." She slants him another look. "Don't you have anything better to do than this?"

Curtis turns his head, his eyes settling on her with a spark of amusement in them, that pulls at the corner of his mouth as well, tugging it upwards as they stop at the door to the gym. "Well, I'll try not to give them an excuse to cry." He offers in a light tone before glancing into the gym. He takes a step through the doorway, only to pause and turn, looking back at her, his face going a bit sad, and thoughtful. "Ma'am. I've spent the last few years of my life as a terrorist working against the government that I have served my entire life. All of my friends from before are gone, restationed, dead, or whatever have you. All of my friends from my time as Ash… well…" He goes quiet as there's no reason to get into that. "I really don't have anything better to do on a Saturday night." He shrugs his shoulders again, tank top shifting on his torso. He then meanders into the gym, taking a slow and observant look around, his head tipping in appreciation of the equipment around him.

Pursing her lips lightly, Elisabeth leans on the wall and observes quietly, "Living a double life is definitely one way to put a crimp in your social life." There's a pause as she watches him. "Have you eaten yet?"

Curtis walks around the gym for a minute or so, looking at everything, investigating really. He pauses at one of the punching bags. (Assuming there are some.) His eyes move over it a moment before he lowers his bag down to the floor, kicks the flip flops off to the side, then turns, facing Elisabeth as he starts to stretch, a slow routine, but thourough, not leaving any ligaments to cramp up on him. "Wasn't even really living a double life either…" he murmurs. "It's like living two lives completely seperate… I suppose that is a double life, but not in the same sense as a secret identity double life. I have two lifetimes of memories in my head. I remember every moment of every day of life as Ashley Williams from child hood all the way through to November the 8th. I also remember being myself, up to the point I became Ash, and then when I got my memories back. It's… disconcerting."

He stretches his arms out above his head, bouncing on his heels a bit. "I don't really have a social life. I visit Harmony every now and then, I knew her before becoming Ash… I visit Claire every now and then… trying to help keep her sane… but aside from that?" He shrugs his shoulders, working them loose before he turns back towards the punching bag. "And nope, I haven't eaten yet." He comments of his shoulder to her as he starts to apply fists to punching bag, ligher punches, but still pretty heavy by most normal standards.

Something in her body language shifts. Elisabeth eyes on him are … sharper, though she keeps it as casual as she can. "I'm thinking the fact that you're seeing Claire occasionally isn't something to be bandied about in public … or to your boss. Considering that she's on the Wanted lists, are you trying to get her killed or just testing me?"

Curtis turns his head slowly, eyes traveling over to Elisabeth at her statement, and no he doesn't miss the change in her body language when his eyes travel back over to her. He sighs lightly, and pauses, stopping the punching bag from it's swinging and turns around, facing the woman. "Ma'am. You're close to Cardinal. I'm not sure how close, but pretty damn close given the information you had on me. Which means you know Claire, and probably rather well since she runs with his … group. Which tells me that there's no issue with me discussing Claire with you. If you'd prefer I didn't, fine, I won't." He then glances about the gym some. "And a gym in Frontline HQ is hardly in public, but as you wish." He frowns and turns back to the punching bag, fists once more being applied to it, this time though the blows are heavier, solid thuds sounding from the bag as he sets it to swinging, the blows getting harder and faster, a few kicks being thrown in, the kind that break knees when they come in from the side, or shatter ribs when they go higher, jerking the punching bag about, he's not angry, his body language conveys tension, worry, and uncertainty, and for a man who's been a soldier his life, that's not an emotion he's comfortable with.

Elisabeth walks forward, around the side of his bag to hold it still for him to beat on. "The information I had on you didn't just come from Cardinal, you know." She smiles faintly. "I knew Claire from my time with Phoenix. The thing is…. it interests me that you would make the assumption that it's safe to talk to me about her. I'm still trying to get a handle on you." She waits while he kicks the bag a couple more times. Then she continues.

"On the one hand, you're an American soldier who claims he still thinks the government is doing the right things. That … Messiah was the 'right thing.' On the other, you talk to me of people who are topping the fugitive lists with casual ease — as if you expect that I'm not going to turn them in. And you're entirely comfortable with that idea. On the one hand, you tell me that you're pretty well pissed off at the Institute and you're not a plant for them. But on the other, you seem to think that what they wanted in the protection of Richard Cardinal is probably the right thing. So I don't really understand your perspectives."

Curtis starts throwing the blows lighter whens he walks behind the bag and holds it in place, not wanting to send her sprawling or anything, but they blows are still pretty heavy, more and more kicks being thrown into the mix until it's an even mix of hands and feet punishing the bag, the man quick on his feet despite his size. "I'm sure it didn't. But there were things that only Richard and the Institute knew that you wouldn't have been able to access unless you had some serious friends in the Institute, which I'm pretty sure you don't, but if you did it would amount to the same thing, of you being in the know on alot more than a woman of your position would be thought to be." He drives a foot hard into the side of the bag, and then manages to pull off a full spin kick, body twistin gand the heel of his other foot crashing into the bag with punishing force. He listens to her as he continues to work the bag, meaty thuds of fists and legs hitting the bag sounding while she talks. When she finishes he pauses and looks over at her, his face troubled. "Good, at least I'm not the only one confused by it all." he mutters in a soft tone, eyes ducking towards the floor as he resumes beating the tar out of the bag. "I won't even begin to try to explain it all. It would be futile. Not on the part of your understanding, I just don't know how to explain it at all."

She continues to hold the bag, giving him a solid target to hit. She's not fragile — having worked on this unit for some time now, it's quite the opposite. She's all hard-packed muscle these days. Elisabeth is quiet for a time. "Then don't explain it all. Explain some of it to me," she invites softly. "Explain to me what you see right now that makes you willing to trust that I'm not going to haul you out of here and bring you up on charges. Or conversely that I'm not going to let you get killed on the streets, perhaps to cover my own ass."

Curtis doesn't let his concentration waver from the bag, throwing his hard, accurate, and fast blows. And every one of them is to a vital spot, if the bag was a human being of equivalent height to himself, it would be a very dead… punching bag? He listens though, paying attention to her while keeping his focus on his little workout. "The same thing that stops you from bringing Cardinal in and up on charges, and probably most of the people you associate with around him. The same reason you won't haul Claire in the next time you see her. The same reason you joined PHoenix in the first place. The same reason you probably joined Frontline in the first place. The same reason you work with Cardinal." He drives his fists into the punching bag a little harder, emphasizing each point. "You have a solid idea and feeling of what is right and wrong. Regardless of the letter of the law, you have a set of morals and ethics. You're a good person. Good people can do bad things, but that doesn't make them bad people." He lets a little smirk tilt his lips to the side. "Plus, I'm too pretty to kill off." He barks a quick laugh at his own joke, giving hi shead a little shake at it. "Yeah sorry, that one was lame."

Curtis says, "And, in the end, because we're standing here, and you're not on the phone, or making excuses to step out as soon as I said that, you're not off telling whoever about it. You're standing here talking to me. If you were going to take action on it, you would have. I'm not one hundred percent sure on that, but I'm pretty damn sure. You seem like a woman of action.""

"In point of fact, I don't need to run Richard Cardinal in because we were both pardoned by the President for prior bad acts and in case you didn't notice he's now on the government contractor's list," Elisabeth points out drily. She steadies the bag easily and listens to not just his words but the way he says them. His phrasing, his intonation. "However, that said…. " She considers. "Don't bring Claire's name up to anyone else around here. And if you can get her out a little bit here and there in venues that won't get her picked up… I hope you do. She needed that." She hesitates. "She needed to know that you didn't hold what happened against her. She's been through hell over all of that." It's a struggle for Elisabeth to bite back the fiercely protective urge. "Dont' hurt her, Curtis," is all she says on it, letting him hit the bag as hard as he wants.

Curtis snorts softly at the mention of Cardinal's pardon and him being on the government payroll. "And that adjudicates his guilt how? You're saying he's not committed a single illegal act since his pardon?" His head shakes slowly at the idea. "I might be a career soldier, but I'm not stupid, and I'm not naieve." He continues on the bag, but his focus is no longer on it, and his routine slips a bit here and there, blows landing slightly off as he pays more and more attention to the conversation, and less to his assaulting of the poor punching bag that never did anything to him. "I never intended on doing so. Bringing it up to you was a calculated risk…" he pauses, going still as well as his eyes search her features. "I figured I'd be safe mentioning it to you, but… could have gone wrong." He doesn't shrug, but he does glance down at the floor. "She's a good kid, with a good heart. She's just been through … well, to be cliche, hell. And she came out, but not in one piece. She's hurt, and damaged, and she needs friends, and that's all I'm trying to do for her right now. And, as stated, not stupid, not going to take her somewhere she's going to get picked up. Took her to a hockey game, so she could get out in public, without worrying about being spotted in all that mass crowd." He lifts hsi e yes back up to meet hers. "Hold what against her? What happened to my grandfather? I don't, that was Rupert's fault. That's like blaming the gun for the dead man on your floor." He cracks a faint but weak smile. "I'm just offering to be her friend, nothing more ma'am."

Elisabeth watches him, nodding slowly. "All right," she says quietly. "And Harmony?" she asks, her tone mild. "Because from where I'm sitting, it sure looks like you're trying to use his friends to get close to him." And that makes her smile faintly. "And it's not paranoia when they're really out to get you, is it?"

Curtis reaches his arms above his head, one at a time,s tretching them while he goes idle talking with her. He arches an eyebrow slowly upwards at the mention of Harmony. "As I already mentioned, I knew her back before I was Ash. I've known her since just after the death of her parents. Her and I used to be… close… very close." He inhales slowly, then exhales and shakes his head. A"nd yes it's still paranoia. Just because it might be right doesn't change the nature of it." He eyes the punching bag again, then sighs and lifts a hand, fingers raking through his hair. "I think I've lost my desire to work out…" he mumbles softly.

A brow quirks. "C'mon…. I brought some things in for dinner. I can share," Elisabeth offers. "You'll have to forgive a little justified paranoia on my part. I'm afraid I've seen more things in the past two years than I ever thought I'd see in a lifetime." She releases the bag to let it swing gently and gestures toward the door. "When was the last time you had a home-cooked meal, Curtis Autumn?"

Curtis hesitates, looking thoughtful at the offer from her, though the temptation of food is always a hard one for the soldier to resist. He does give a soft snort at the further mention of paranoia. "I wish I could say that it's been the same for myself, but it hasn't, though I never imagined doing some of the things I did in the last few years… running across a rooftop with a grenade launcher and an assault rifle, disrupting an assault force and driving off a helicopter while rappelling down the side of a building? Yeah, that kind of shit just doesn't happen…" He gives a soft chuckles and then cracks a bit of a smile, only to frown at the question. He ponders his response as he collects hsi bag, but doesn't put the flip flops back on, they go in the bag, apparently willing to walk barefoot to not have to wear them around the factory. "It's been a long time. I honestly can't remember the last time I had a home cooked meal that wasn't my own butcher's work. I am not a very good cook."

Elisabeth jerks her chin, a faint smile on her lips. "Well… I guess you're in luck then. I brought in chicken and spinach manicotti in parmesan cream sauce. Just needs a little reheating." She turns, walking toward the door with her hands shoved into her pockets. "Never thought I'd use my ability to blow out a building or to throw zombies a couple hundred feet myself," she admits on a shrug. "But needs must when the devil drives, as they say."

Curtis looks intrigued at the mention of Elisabeth's ability, his steps are … silent, not even a rasp of feet on the concrete, his weight settling on the edges of his feet first so they don't drag or scuff. He blinks a few times in surprise at the mention of the food she's brought. "That sounds… decadent." He offers in a slightly amused voice. He follows her out of the gym and wherever she leads in the old factory. "So… what is your ability? And… I can't say I've ever heard that saying before…" He purses his lips in thought, but just for a few seconds, then shrugs and offers a friendly smile.

She glances at him. "It's easy to make. My grandmother taught me to cook before I could ride a two-wheel bike," Elisabeth comments. "And I like to eat food that's not out of a can." She is surprised. That he hasn't sorted out everyone's abilities yet. "I'm an audiokinetic," she tells him as they move. "Sound manipulation, up and down the spectrum into the ultrasound and down into the infrasound levels."

Curtis smiles, but the smile is a little bit weak. "I never learned from my mother. Dad was kind of a dissapointment for my grandfather, didn't go military, so … my name sake kind of took over my life. It was military stuff from a rather young age. So… never really had the time to learn from my mother, was too busy playing with toy guns and everything and naything my grandfather thought would get me used to the idea of the military." He nods a bit to her mention of her ability. "I see, and no, haven't puzzled everyone's out yet. Nor have I looked up records or files or anything, at least not yet. Been trying to meet as many people as possible. I plan to know everything I can about the people I'll be in the field with but… I'd like to learn as much as possible from the horse's mouth so to speak."

"MMmm," Elisabeth nods. "Well, you'll find that about half of us use our abilities in the regular line of work, the others not so much. But they're all damn solid team members," she tells him, heading for the dining hall. In the kitchen, she pulls a casserole dish from the fridge and pops it into the microwave to let it heat. "My parents were both lawyers. I don't know, except from my father's stories, how they reacted to my becoming a cop." She glances at him as she pulls out silverware and plates to use. "I'm missing about 10 years of time — about 1991 to 2001-ish. Took a bullet."

Curtis follows into the dining hall, steps still silent. He takes a slow look about before making his way over to a table and pulling out a chair, and then another one for Elisabeth before he settles his considerable weight down into his own, watching her as she goes about reheating th efood and everything. His gym bag hits the floor with a soft rustle, and he leans back, relaxing. "10 years… that's a long time…" he murmurs, nodding his head a little bit. "I've seen it before though. Blood loss, shots to th ehead, all kinds of things can screw someone's memory. And now… evolved with crazy mind powers too. i've known a few in my time."

She sets the plates and silverware down, then leans on the counter. "Well, it's better than the alternative… Humanis FIrst didn't plan on me surviving at all, so… I figure 10 years missing is a bargain considering how much of my brain they left on a warehouse wall somewhere." Her tone is level, though a hint tight. "It'd be nice to cut all the heads off that fucking Hydra pretty fast." The microwave beeps and she moves to retrieve their dinner.

Curtis is silent for a handful of seconds, sitting there, thinking after she mentions Humanis First. "Humanis First needs to be destroyed. Utterly, and ruthlessly. And that is not something I say lightly. THey are US citizens, with the right to express their desires, beliefs, and freedoms. But what they do is no different from what groups like Phoenix, Messiah, Pariah have done in their times. Humanis first in fact is worse in my opinion. They invoke terror, and nothing more, frightening innocents for no reason than that they were born different. They are a cancer that should have been excized years ago."

Pursing her lips, Elisabeth crosses her arms and studies him. "Interesting that you would lump the likes of them in with the likes of Phoenix," she comments mildly. "PARIAH and Messiah were both…. sort of offshoots of Phoenix, the rabid let's blow everything up parts of the faction. Some of us were far more about strategic hits only when absolutely necessary." She shrugs. "Perhaps that's all in the semantics, however. After all…. Pinehearst was definitely a Phoenix operation. As was taking down ConEd." She pauses. "Of course, ConEd had more to do with the fact that there was a fucking tank in there about to loose a virus that would have killed 95 percent of the world's population within 5 years, but hey… what do I know?" She turns and moves to pull the casserole out of the microwave as it begins to beep behind her. "However, that said — yes, I agree that the militant factions of Humanis First need to be excised in the fastest way possible. But what do you suggest on that front, being as they operate in small cells quite similar to terrorist organizations?"

Curtis shrugs his shoulders a little bit. "The idea was the same. Fight for what you believe in. Pariah was an offshoot of Phoenix yes, but Messiah, at least in my opinion, was it's own monster. But you could accredit almost any evolved freedom group to being an offshoot of Phoenix. It was our first major freedom group, so all that follow it will seem to be just variations or descendants of it. Just like every nation that followed the Roman Empire is just a twist or variation upon it." He chuckles softly. "Doesn't mean they wouldn't have found their way on their own." He winks at her, then looks down at the table. "The tactics that worked with messiah would work with Humanis First ma'am. They would work perfectly. You bring them together with the belief that they're gathering for some big massive undertaking, and then you rip out the soul of the orginization. There will still be scattered groups leftover, but their potency and ability to effectively terrorize innocent people will be almost completely destroyed. Arrest them, kill them, doesn't matter, as long as they're not out on the streets like that. It send the message that extremists will not be tolerated and that everyone has to work within the law to achieve their ends."

Elisabeth brings the dish to the table and moves to sit down to join him. The scent of the manicotti in the bowl drifts around the room, a light, rich aroma of cheese and seasonings. "Mmmm," she replies as she dishes up chicken and spinach manicotti onto the plates. "And how do you address the fact that, like Messiah, some of the highest placed members might actually be high-profile figures in the government itself?" she murmurs softly, offering him the tidbit to see what he does with it.

Curtis watches her bring the food to the table, but his mind seems to be mostly upon the issue of Humanis first and how to deal with them. "That does smell rather good…" he murmurs, glancing to her as she dishes it out. He looks at his plate and considers her question, but he doesn't have to ponder it very long. "Andrew Jackson has a number of very famous quotes. Some of them are pretty clear about what you do with a corrupted government." He glances over to her, then back to the food on his plate. "As long as our government is administered for the good of the people, and is regulated by their will, as long as it secures us the rights of persons and property, liberty of conscience and of the press, it will be worth defending." he pauses, smiling. "Disunion by force is treason. And I could go on, but one of the great men of the founding of our nation said that any corrupt government needs to be pulled down in a bloody revolution and rebuilt in a better manner every century or so. I don't believe we need to go to that extent, but if ripping Humanis First down destroyed part of our government, then we do it, and we rebuild what is destroyed, but better."

Elisabeth's smile is faint. He talks the talk damn well, she supposes. "I see," is all she says to that. "So let me ask you something, Curtis. And it's all entirely hypothetical, you understand." She picks up her fork and begins to eat. "If I told you I knew who the heads of Humanis First were and that I had … a plan that might require some people to take that stand to tear down the parts that were corrupt… if push came to shove, would you follow my lead or would you run off tattling to Kershner or the Institute that I was about to corrupt my squad?" she wonders aloud.

Curtis smiles lightly, and leans forwards slowly, settling his elbows on the table. His hands settle, one on top of the other, his food untouched so far. "I joined this unit to make a difference ma'am. As you said, it is not a military unit, even though it seems very much like one." He purses his lips, thinking for a few moments. "The Institute is exactly the kind of corruption in the government that should not be there. The people have no authority over them, most don't even know of it's existence. The founding fathers would be sickened by our government as it is today. CIA, FBI, the Institute, the secret operations…" he shakes his head a bit and then lets out a long sigh. "I'm no terrorist. Ash might have been, but I am not. However, a revolutionist… that I could see myself being.." he laughs a touch and lifts up his fork to cute a piece of the pasta off and pop it into hsi mouth, chewing slowly, enjoying the rich flavors. "There is a reason my grandfather wanted this unit to be civilian operated, run, and manned. I would follow your lead in a stand against corruption in the government."

"Interesting stance to take, Curtis," Elisabeth murmurs. "Good think I'm not out to overthrow the US Constitution, right?" She smiles at him and nibbles on her food. She looks down at it as if assessing and then smiles. "It came out well," she comments. "I usually prefer broccoli, but the spinach was calling my name this week."

Curtis rolls one shoulder as he takes a nother bite of the home cooked pasta dish, lifting it to his lips, but pausing with it there. "I served the United States… not the US government. The country, it's people, and it's constitution. So yes, probably a good thing you're not out ot overthrow the US constitution." He winks at her, and continues to eat, slowly, enjoying the food. "Broccoli sounds like it would be good in this, but there's nothing wrong with spinach." He murmurs before filling his mouth once more, chewing as he considers the woman across the table from him. "What about you ma'am?"

"What about me?" Elisabeth asks mildly, eating what's before her with evidence of enjoyment. She eats well because she likes to, not because she's trying to impress.

A lofted eyebrow is all that Elisabeth gets from Curtis by way of reply to her question, apparently he thinks it's pretty obvious what he's asking. He continues, eating slowly, not rushing through it. He's not had much in the way of home cooked after all, so he's taking his time to enjoy the food.

Elisabeth slants him a look. "My job is to serve and protect," she informs him. "And for FRONTLINE, I believe we all took the same oaths — against all enemies, foreign and domestic. I am inclined in general to believe the system is good, but… there've definitely been moments in the past where the system tied the hands of the very people who could stop a horror." She shrugs a little.

Curtis toys with his fork a little bit, using it to draw designs in the sauce on the plate while he waits for her response, and then listens to it. "Same oaths I took when I became a Marine, and oaths I very strongly believe in. Oaths I've fought and nearly died for. And oaths I would uphold time and again when called upon to do so. So yes, if we were to go after Humanis First, I would stand with you, and if it led to the government, I'd be there as well. The system as a whole is good, or it wouldn't still be in place, but parts of it are bad."

"I'll keep that in mind," Elisabeth says quietly. And she looks at him. "Because Humanis First is a blight on the world, in my opinion."

"They are. They're not fighting for freedom. Or justice. They're not working towards a benevolent goal through violent means. They're… terror mongers. Destroying people for being different… they're a blight as you put it. And they need to be destroyed." He comments softly before he resumes his eating, going through the food slowly. "That is one action I very much relish from when I was Ash. We hit a Humanis First operation, big one, on Staten… wiped it out, though I nearly got killed, and we nearly lost a few others. But they were very militant and were planning some seriously nasty business."

"Not surprising," Elisabeth comments. And then she hesitates. "Do you remember any of the stuff you picked up?" She pauses and adds with a faint smile. "Humanis First isn't really our primary operation, but…. you know… if something good came our way…."

Curtis turns his head, a curious look on his face, slightly confused, but curious. "Not sure what you mean by that. What stuff?" He asks simply as he puts another bite of food into his mouth, chewing while she pauses, then he nods a little bit. "But, they do threaten the safety and sanctity of American citizens with their hate mongering and their para militarism. Arming yourself is fine and dandy, we have that right, but what they're doing… well, like I quoted Andrew Jackson, disunity through force is treason."

"I just wondered if you'd turned over the information you had on what HF was doing to people who might actually be able to use it to find the ringleaders, that's all," Elisabeth says as she eats. "More a curiosity than anything."

Curtis pauses and frowns a little bit, then shakes his head slowly. "We only found out about the group because someone got assaulted by some HF thugs. We went scouting around the area she got assaulted, and found their little base of operations. So we watched the place, gathered intel, planned a strike, and then executed it. Any information that could have been used that way would have dissapeared into Rupert's hands. I have no idea what was found and what wasn't. I was put down by a grenade. Managed to get enough distance and cover between it and myself to not get pulped by concussive force, but it wasn't enough to stop me from getting shrapnelled half ot death. So.. if stuff was found I don't know. If it was, no one else knew about it by the time I could get up and move around. Rupert would have made sure no one could remember finding it."

Elisabeth simply nods. "I'm sure he would," she says quietly. "No worries, I didn't expect anything useful to come of the question." She continues to eat and glances at him. "So you said you're hooking up with old friends. Or at least one or two. How's that going for you?" she asks.

Curtis frowns, anger flashing across his face. He mutters Rupert's name with a great deal of vehemence and hatred in his voice, then sighs softly and finishes off his plate with another bite, and looks up to her at her question. "It…" He purses his lips, thinking about how to respond to the question before his shelf like shoulders lift in a shrug. "I don't know to be honest. I barely know Harmony any more. She's changed a great deal since … before… and I'm just starting to get to know Claire a little bit. But in general? I don't honestly know."

There's sincere concern in her blue eyes. "If you need to talk…. I can't exactly relate to what you've been through, but …. I'm willing to listen if you need the ear," Elisabeth says quietly. "I know we'll be on… a little bit uneven ground with that, but… " She shrugs. She's trying.

Curtis presses his lips together, tightly, into a thin line, the blood draining from them from the pressure as he thinks. In the end he gives a soft sigh and a weak smile. "I don't… I'm not really someone who needs to talk to someone to let off stress. That's usually when I go destroy a punching bag or something like that. Helps me alot more than unloading my problems onto someone else." He leans back in his chair, his fork set down on the plate. "And you do understand somewhat of what I've been through. You're missing a decade of your life. You had to relearn who you are after that I'm sure. Well, instead of missing time from my life, I just have two lives in my head… kind of relearning who I am again. I am definitley not Ashley Williams. I am definitley Curtis Autumn. But it still feels… odd… being me again. I feel disconnected from my life before all the shit as Ash."

Elisabeth shrugs a little. "The decade missing out of my life is … farther back. I didn't have to relearn the recent events or people," she tells him. "But occasionally I find that I know things that I can't explain why I know them." She smiles a little. "And I can understand the disconnect. I won't push at you. But if you need it, the offer's an open one, okay?" She points at his plate. "Eat, or I'll think you don't like my cooking," she teases lightly.

Curtis gives hsi head a slow dip forwards in acknowledgement of her statement, then looks to his empty plate and back up to her after her statement. "Ma'am, if I didn't like your cooking I wouldn't have finished the plate. I'd have used the conversation as a distraction, and then at the end I'd have made an excuse for having to leave." he winks at her, then puffs out a slow breath and dishes himself out a little bit more.

She laughs at him. "Nice comeback," Elisabeth approves. "Go ahead and eat your fill. I have another dish in the fridge for the others. I'm trying to fatten up a speedster, so he gets his own." She winks and then goes back to eating her own dinner.

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