Participants:
| Scene Title | Homeland Robots Have Hearts. |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Homeland Robots have souls too. Scotch gets a gift from Minea of supplies for his church which brings with it conversation, an invitation to ice cream and to tell her more of his wishlist. |
| Date | October 5, 2009 |
Staten Island - Lutheran Church
Scotch knows what it looks like.
Its night time, right after dinner, and so those who are not staying the full night can be seen exiting the premises on their way off to whatever they have to do, out in the rookery this evening. For some, it will mean getting high and then coming back here after a few nights to de-tox- or they might come drunk looking for a bed. One never really knows. Given though it is about to be the quiet period of the night, Scotch finds himself seated out on the big back stoop, which has served as the entrance for some time, since the other is blocked in. Eyes watching a few of his sheep head back out into the mess, and what does the pastor do? He lights up
Nothing like a smoke to help ease things.
Someone's coming through the wayward exiting sheep, bearing a… honest to go, large plastic kids wagon bearing what seems to be sleeping bags and boxes of other things, as much as she could stack on the green and tan item usually reserved for carting children and beach things. There's a gun very much in display on her hip, a shoulder rig and if she had dared, she might have even displayed her badge.
"He smokes, isn't there something in the bible about 'thou shalt not pollute thy lungs'?"
Scotch raises a brow from where he is sitting. He does at least not ash on the steps, rather just off to the side of them before he's placing the lit cigarette back in his mouth. Eyes wandering over the agent, before they are going right to the wagon. A chuckle there, and a shake of his head. "No." offered finally though he's not moving to get up just yet. "That's not in the ten commandments, though one could argue." and another drag-exhale. "One could argue, that it goes to polluting the body and temple."
A nod is given to her hip "You always bring guns, when you come to give gifts, or should I consider this a matter of investigation?" a tease in the question, but then Scotch has no reason to fear said Agent, does he?
"More a matter of protecting the goods. I like things to get to their proper destination and being a woman of a certain age, alone and carting a wagon full of basic supplies, without the guns visible I might not have made it. Will it give you consolation to know that I have two others unseen on my persons?"
Her boots come to a stop a few feet away. "I never went and registered for helping out the rapper. Somehow, I don't think I'd be mighty welcome, but you didn't seem adverse to a little charity from one of New Yorks hated."
"How are you New York's hated?" asked back, with a raise of his brow, but then Scotch is looking back to the wagon of sweet loot, and then back to the woman, and there's a shrug. "As long as you're not shooting at me, I think we're fine Ms. Dahl." Yes, he does remember last names, and subsequently people he meets. There's a motion to pat the stoop beside him. "I'd offer you a smoke, but I don't think you do-nor do I have a drink.." And then he's shifting just a little. Nope, no gun on his personage. His are inside, up in his little room.
"I dunno, I think King would be welcome to having anyone help out if they truly wanted to, you know?"
"Homeland security. Unregistered evolved flee before us. NYPD don't like it when they see me coming because it means that i'm there to stick my nose in a case." Minea shrugs. "Used to it. But yes, actually, I'll take a smoke" See, she hangs with the cool kids. "Had a hankering for them lately. I think i'll need to pick up a pack for myself instead of bumming off others" Little red wagon with goods is parked to the side before she slips down to the steps, black jean clad ass meeting cement.
"I dunno how long his little get up frankly is gonna work. At some point, Frontline is going to come clean up this place and seeing that he's probably wanted by the cops for his stunt he pulled on the mainland, he might have to take his gig underground. That is unless it's meant as one big middle finger to someone"
"Do they?" asked back, before he's reaching down to feel around his hoodie, before a beat up pack of Camels are produced. One Cigarette pulled out and passed over, before pack is returned and his lighter is brought out. You can thank the Corps for this lovely habit, as well as the lighter. "Well bum away. When I am over on the mainland, I buy cartons for bartering and shit here." And down she sits, which gets a nod, and not so much ooggling this time-though be appreciative. Scotch doesn't ooggle much, nor does it come off as uber ooggling. You're safe.
"Yeash well, maybe some folks just don't understand what he is trying to do, and thus are after him for other agendas. You never know." as for the other. "I doubt they can close down a non profit-won't look good for the government." But, when has the government really cared to look good?
"This city was under martial law, and currently has a curfew while if you go out of the city, there isn't. I don't think the government would rightfully care" The smoke is taken, perched between lips and leans forward for it to be lit. "SO smokes, anything else that your little operation here needs? I'm comfy in my financial security, and I don't think you get quite the support that Mr. Shard and his loyal group of followers and their registration tents get"
"Oh I remember quite well. And I still go out at night." Yeah he did just admit that over to the woman, before he is bringing his lighter back and sliding it into a pocket. A shake of his head, and then a raise of his brow. Scotch is quiet for a moment. "Well, Some basic medical shit would be nice. You know stuff for cuts and bruises. Maybe a mild fracture. I don't have the personnel for a triage, but you know, I do have two nurses who bust their ass when they volunteer here." as for financial support, he shrugs "I make do with what I got, its part of a Pastor's job."
"God provides. I've heard it. I'll see what I can smuggle here" That he confessed to breaking curfew, she doesn't frankly care. Where as registering evo's is her supposed task - bag and tag actually but that's the company - Curfew enforcement was the job of the locals. She'd leave that to them. "Besides, the islands out of jurisdiction right now, I couldn't bust you for anything to save my life. Nothing'd stick" She winks at him, dragging on her smoke. She runs through the verbal wish list. "Food? Non-perishables? Candy? Everyone needs candy"
"Those would be nice." Scotch, adds on. "I mean we get a lot of can goods, but we only keep a small portion-we try to hand out to some of the more, worst off families out here." And then you have morons from the rookery drug dens and shit that try to come and steal that. Its amazing time here on the island. It really is. "And Candy would be nice- sweet of you really." Badoom-CHING right there, and yes Scotch is lame enough to chuckle at his own joke. "You got a first name?" asked back as he looks over to the woman. "Figure if we're going to be in this working relationship, I might as well know your first name."
"Minea" Smoke changes hands, offering her right out to him. "Minea Dahl. Former military, drafted to homeland. Made me an offer I could refuse once I went civilian. You have a bit of military bearing yourself, the few times I've run into you"
"Minea." right there, and he's shaking it. He already had offered his own name, so no need to rehash that shit, is there? "What branch?" might as well ask, but he's not asking Rank. For her to have been drafted she had to have served for some time, right? "Yeah, well you can take the Man out of the Corps, but you can't take the Corps out of the Man." something like that. A drag and it seems as if Scotch is at least relaxing, but then it could possibly be that he has nothing to hide. "What do you do, when you're not out protecting the United States-or delivering gifts to poor ass clergy members?"
"Army. Plain and simple. Did my four then went civilian with the intelligence division. Document verification" She made ID's and forged documents, sometimes out in the field in other words.
"Ahh, you mean, do homeland robots actually have a life before harassing everyone? Photography, I enjoy the movies, and otherwise coming to staten for food and drinking. I lived here for a few months, developed a taste for the cuisine. Tree lizard soup don't you know. What about you? When not tending your flock."
"Precisely." said back towards Minea, as for what exactly he was wondering what she does do." So, pictures, movies, and local cuisine. My you sound like the accomplished traveler there." A little flat, but there is mirth in the teasing. As for himself, there's a roll of his shoulders. "Dunno. Well, I like to drink-not too hard. Go fishing, or hunting-which you can't really do here…I like to watch movies, eat-You know normal things. Like to catch a ballgame when I can." course that differentiates between football and Baseball. A laugh and one hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck. "I'm pretty ordinary."
"ORdinary is good. In a city filled with the extraordinary, ordinary becomes the new not normal. You know what would go good right about now? Ice cream. Despite the chill. Come on pastor" She grinds her smoke out on the ground, flicking the butt into an appropriate receptacle. "Lets get these supplies in before someone thinks they're free for the taking instead of you dispensing."
And his own cigarette is flicked off into the street, before he is rising up and moving to help the woman with the supplies. Scotch chuckles for a moment though, before he is looking back up to the Agent. "This like one of those date things you hear about- or is it Ice cream?" A raised brow there, but either way he'll go enjoy a scoop-and take one of those mini breaks he so longs for.
"Just ice cream. Back stoop, skys above, all that. Just an ice cream moment. I don't date and my last casual dalliance has been in the ground half a year now. Plus, your a man of the cloth and I just met you" She gives him a wink before grabbing one end of the wagon to help him lift it in.
"I'm a protestant, man of the cloth. That means we date, Miss." said simply back, as for the other stuff, he just chuckles and nods. "Just Ice cream will be good, then." Scotch is easily one of those few that don't push or shove, as one might note. "Sides, I just asked-didn't ask you up to my room or got on a knee now eh?" The wink is met, and he just grins. And in they go.
"You couldnt' afford me mister" Minea tosses back before they disappear with cargo into the recesses of the church doorway.