If Memory Serves


alvin_icon.gif cassandra_icon.gif elaine_icon.gif kay_icon.gif marlowe_icon.gif robyn_icon.gif tania_icon.gif

Also Featuring

akiko_icon.gif arlo_icon.gif clarissa_icon.gif eddy_icon.gif reizo_icon.gif

Scene Title If Memory Serves
Synopsis A mental cry for help brings people from both within and without Yamagato Park to the aid of a man in distress — and the source of all the strange visions.
Date May 2, 2018

Cresting Wave Apartments, Yamagato Park

Cresting Wave Apartments is one of dozens of newly-constructed "future seeing" buildings in the Yamagato Park region. These structures serve as both residences for Yamagato Industries employees and also a proof-of-concept for the residential improvements Yamagato Industries intends to create across the Safe Zone as the reconstruction and resettlement operation continues. The apartment building is a 12-floor structure with forty-eight 3,400 square foot apartments and one penthouse on the 13th floor. The stainless metal exterior wraps around the building to form an L-shape. To create the curves, each panel of cladding was laser-cut. Residences are highly computerized, featuring state-of-the-art climate control and hardline connections to the Yamagato Industries intranet for ease of employee telecommuting. Apartments are spacious, furnished, and committed to a green-futurism aesthetic.

Morning, Outside Yamagato Park

The cloudy, mild day is a welcome one — warm enough to feel like spring but cool enough that there’s no threat of the stifling humidity known to smother the city in the summer. There’s a dampness in the air and a threat of rain that won’t come to pass; those who know better shake their heads when others say “looks like rain,” whether from ability or simply a lifetime of living in New York, being able to smell the difference between a storm on its way and one merely passing by.

For Tania Kozlow, Robyn Quinn, and Cassandra Bauman, the storm that hits is one of memory — a strangely familiar and yet unfamiliar feeling to each by now, having had the onslaught of senses and imagery belonging to another human being. Despite the memory, however, this time, there’s a difference.

The bare-wood skeleton of a building seems almost like a cage. A red-and-black brindled dog is curled up next to a pair of worn boots, resting on the edge of a sleeping bag. Suddenly there is the sound of laughter — young women giggling. Footfalls come from behind, and the perspective jerks, turning toward the sound. The feeling of panic wells up and there’s the feeling and sound of one’s own heart pounding in the chest, the thrum of the pulse in the ears. The perspective shifts again — two faces come into view too briefly to make sense of — young. Dark hair, dark eyes. Female. Male. A brief second of relief, then…


There isn’t enough time to catch a breath before the next vision hits.

”Got ‘em on a loop. We got a couple minutes.” A youthful male voice says, heard but unseen. When eyes open, they are drowsy; heavy lids blink like blinds shuttering on the scene unfolding. The Cresting Wave building comes into bleary focus, briefly; the owner of the memory turns to look around, the motion a dizzying one, but can’t see the faces of whoever’s behind him. A quick look down reveals the pavement scrolling by underneath the metal footpads of a wheelchair. Into a reception area where they are greeted casually by a doorman and the concierge with a “Konnichiwa” as if nothing is wrong. Into an elevator where the 10 is pushed. Out of the elevator and into a hallway. A hand reaches out, shaking, knocking over a vase that’s on a side table, trying to stop the forward motion of the wheelchair.

”No one can see that. No one can see you,” whispers a sharp voice, young, female, tinged with a Japanese accent.

The door they enter is 1011.

Late Morning, Cresting Wave Apartments

The intention was to come and see Marlowe, compare notes and come up with a game plan for the next stage of their investigation. That plan gets thrown out the window when she gets the visions. Marlowe's phone has been blowing up with texts ever since, all caps telling her to meet on the tenth floor.

Tania hasn't brought anything like a gun, of course. Just herself and her phone and a burst of adrenaline that would have probably killed her a few years ago. But not today. Her feet tap impatiently as she rides the elevator up. Once the doors open, she's running out to the hall, looking for Marlowe first, then the apartment she saw next.

Marlowe’s new phone has been blowing up with texts, but her old one has since been blown up. Literally. The woman’s been resting since then, albeit the version of resting was playing a video game that involved shooting bad guys. And not really moving. The relentless wave of text alerts has her up and going, though, because it’s Tania.

Since she’s already in the building, Marlowe is there on the tenth floor elevator lobby waiting when Tania arrives. Unlike their previous adventures out, today the Yamagato engineer is in a baggy though sleeveless tank top that allows the arm sling cradling her bandaged up left arm to do its job, and some sweats. Hastily shuffled on slip-ons. Her hair’s still down, even, or as much as it can be said of the natural frizz haloing her face. “What’s going on?” she asks as soon as the other woman appears. She’s already been shooting up virtual bad guys, so she’s in that fighty kind of readiness.

Robyn Quinn had been here for her own reasons - mostly to stop in and see Elaine Darrow in the wake of numerous events in the last few days. On both of their ends, really. But what she hadn't been expecting, today, was to walk into yet another event, like the one she had experienced before, sorta, and like the one she'd heard about from Elaine, sorta.

It had been a lot of process. It was a precarious place for her to be in, on what was considered foreign soil and with no authority or jurisdiction of her own. It should be enough to get her to stop, to call Elaine, to reach out to someone with more authority.

Instead, she's bounding up the stairs of Cresting Wave like a woman possessed. Ten flights was in no way fun, but it's not insurmountable - and at least she wasn't having to do twenty flights as quietly as she possibly could, like this time a month ago.

But, while Robyn is an above average agent in surprisingly good physical condition, that doesn't mean she doesn't realise the dumb mistake she's made about the time she pushes open the door to the tenth floor with a grunt and a roughly exhaled breath.

She'd be feeling this terrible decision later, but for now, there was a more pressing - and interesting - matter..

The visions, when they come, aren’t unfamiliar to Cassandra.

While it is true that the visions aren’t experiences she has experienced, or anything that came from an object or a place she was in, visions in general were something that she had experience with. When the jarring of emotion and vision that comes, unbidden, it’s really handled quite well, with this particular viewer stopping and crouching right where she is - waiting to pass through ‘customs’ to get into the park proper, her goal the food trucks near the Cresting Wave, She’s careful, making sure she’s as out of the way as she can be, remaining calm and quiet as the visions complete themselves. When reality snaps back into focus she stands and rummages around in her bag for her phone, stabbing the number for SESA, for someone in charge, passing through and into the park proper, moving at a quick jog towards Cresting Wave Apartments.

The poor switchboard operator gets a quick report. “This is Baumann. Yes, Cassandra. Yes, the spooky brunette with the eyes. LISTEN.” Yes, she shouts into her phone. “I think something is going on. I just had another vision around the park. Yes, Yamagato Park. No, I don’t know how many were affected. So far I can tell you that I was. No, I didn’t grab a park bench, you….GRRRR.” Yes, she growls. “Listen, you need to tell someone higher than me. Like now. I’m heading into the park to see if I can meet a friend for breakfast. Yes. Okay. I’ll check in as soon as I know something. My phone is on. Okay.” She rolls her eyes and hangs up, shouldering her bag, looping her SESA badge over her neck on it’s chain, the metal bouncing against her jacket as she jogs towards the Cresting Wave, stabbing another number on her phone as she reaches the entrance, looking back towards the park behind her.

“Come on, Elaine, pick up. Pick up..” she grumbles as the phone rings. “C'est sa Couillon…” she mutters in French. It is foolish what she’s about to do. She starts into the building, her bag slung over her shoulder, heading for the elevators, following the vision to the exact elevator, the phone held to her ear. “Please pick up.”

The hallway, like the rest of the building, is decorated in a sleek, modern aesthetic of clean lines juxtaposed by curving artwork that echoes the curving architecture that makes the building such a wonder to look at from the outside. Taking the turn that leads to Apartment 1011 is familiar, giving a sense of deja vu, thanks to the visions that they so recently saw. The table nearest to that suite is still there, this time topped by similar but slightly different vase, equally beautiful, in place of the one that was broken.

The door to the apartment is like any other in Cresting Wave, the only difference being the numbers labeling it as 1011. A keypad beside the door glows blue, waiting for the proper sequence of digits to be pressed in.

The hallway is silent, empty, but for the sudden convergence of those who had been sent the Mayday.

"I had a vision." Tania explains to Marlowe as she barely sidesteps running straight into her. "What happened to you arm?" she asks, her head tilting. Surprise and concern. That look lingers on her face even as she gestures for her to follow. "I saw Arlo's memory. I think he's been trying to… call for help," she says to her friend as she leads the way toward the apartment in question. "Someone took him."

And as they reach the door and the glowing keypad, she slows to a stop and points to it. "They took him in there," she whispers, then turns to look at Marlowe. "I was picturing kicking the door down, but— " But the Russian is quite waif-like, really. So that's probably not in the cards. She looks back to the door with some disappointment on her face. "Knocking seems so anticlimactic."

But that's what she does, stepping closer to the door and giving it a firm knock.

The questioning look from Tania gets a side eyed glance out of Marlowe. “I… I’ll tell you later,” she deflects, but looks down at the bandaged forelimb and tests the remaining fingers with a brief curl. How much distress she has inwardly is pressed down and pushed away for the more present dilemma of why Tania is here. The woman frowns deeply as Tania explains. “What?! That’s cra— no, from what you said, he could be Expressive. But why would someone take him…”

She follows, coming up alongside Tania as they look to the door. Marlowe glances to the keypad, and then back to her friend and fellow investigator. “You’d break your foot trying to kick one of these doors in,” she says with a mild amused glint to her eye. “It’s anticlimactic, but you’re not expecting to go all in just now are you?” They don’t know what’s on the other side of the door, after all. But, what Marlowe does do is pull out her phone again and starts dialing a number. Park Security. They might be busy dealing with other things, but at the very least she can get them on the possibility of crime going down.

“Neighborhood watch, bitches,” she murmurs as she waits for the line to pick up.

"Ladies?" Robyn had taken a moment to catch her breath when she'd reached the top of the stairs. Her knees weren't happy with her, but there would be time for sitting later. She still has her purse in hand, expression thinning as she approaches them. "Tania, from the Gala, right?" A look over at Marlowe. "Marlowe?"

She thinks she remembers both from the bar that night. Suddenly, she's really glad she didn't drink as much as she wanted to.

She looks to the door, sucking in a deep breath. "I guess you both saw it too, then." She sets her purse down by the door. She isn't here as a SESA agent today - and even if she wanted to be, she doesn't have jurisdiction. She looks at the door, then to them. "How does this play out?" she whispers, opening her purse - she has her personal sidearm on her, but isn't planning on bringing it out unless it's needed.

The Cavalry arrives on the elevator, her cell phone welded to her ear. People in the hall get the last half of then conversation as she emerges from then sumptuously attired elevator car. “….and please call me as soon as you get this. There was another vision and I think there's a kidnapping victim in Cresting Wave….”

She slows as she sees the group in front of the door, trailing off. “Imma call you back…” and she hangs up. “Agent Quinn…ladies…” At least one face is familiar. The brunette looks from face to face, then to the door, tucking her badge away into the breast pocket of her jacket, her messenger bag still slung across her chest, the phone tucked away safely, the ringer off, vibrate on and placed right where she can feel it. “Guess it wasn't just me who saw that?” Sh crouches by the door. “Who in the hell is in there; and why did they sneak him in through security?”

Cassandra approaches the group,, shoes quiet on the polished marble floors of the hall, walking heel-toe to maintain as much silence as she could. She pauses next to the door, her eyes closed as she listens for any sort of sound at the portal. Probably not hearing anything. She fixes Robyn with a concerned look. They're both out of their element, both out of their jurisdiction, and in the middle of what is technically a foreign country. This has bad things written all over it if things go pear shaped. “Thoughts?” She echoes Robyn’s sentiment softly. “Wait here for security, try to pop the lock, see if the echo’ll show is the code, something else?” She's asking for options here.

When Tania knocks, her keen ears might pick up the sound of footfalls and an incomprehensible whisper on the other side of the door, followed by a shhhh that is much sharper in sound and intensity. After a few seconds’ delay, a thin, elderly voice with a thick Japanese accent speaks through the door, “Just a minute.”

Meanwhile, Marlowe’s call connects to security, allowing the Yamagato employee to alert the powers that be of the problem.

The door suddenly swings open, and a tiny and ancient woman stands on the threshold, peering up at the four women in the hall, blinking owlishly at each face in turn. She’s dressed in a velour burgundy tracksuit, her matching lipstick much too stark against her pale and prim face.

“We don’t want any,” she says, for all the world like one of the four young women in the hall just asked her to buy some Do-Si-Dos or Samoas.

Go away, now.

That last phrase tugs a bit at something within — suddenly leaving seems like a great idea.

She begins to close the door. Somewhere within the depths of the spacious apartment, a muffled grunt can be heard, followed by a clatter of something metal and heavy on wooden floors.

Alvin was close. In his own apartment really on the fifth floor. So when the alert goes out his phone gets a ping immediately. He's on his feet and out the door, pistol in hand, clipping his security badge to the front of his suit pants, though the jacket and tie are left behind, only the essentials. He doesn't hit the elevator, he takes the stairs as well, ascending them rapidly. But before he steps out onto the tenth floor he cloaks himself. (Any telepaths get some nasty feedback.) And peeks out into the hallway.

When he sees it's clear of hostiles he steps back in, uncloaks himself and steps out of the stairwell at a good pace. He pauses when the door gets answered, but the force of her go away only makes Alvin that much more suspicious. "I'm sorry ma'am. Park Security. We got a call that there was a disturbance here. I'm afraid I'll have to come in and clear the prem-" He cuts off at the thud from within the apartment and moves forwards to try and push around the old lady and get inside the apartment.

Mott rushing by is never a good sign. Given that it’s her job to know what’s going on and how to spin it (more the latter than the former, but she can’t separate herself from her detective’s instinct), she goes following after, rather than ride the elevator to her own stop. There’s quite the commotion going on in front of one apartment door. While she could step up, it’s not her job to kick doors in anymore. For now, Kay hangs back and observes.

Though she does slowly inch her way down the hall to try and get a better look at what the heck is going on anyway.

“Hello?” Elaine answers her phone as she exits a room on the tenth floor. She had been dropping some cake pans off for a coworker to borrow when she got a call from Cassandra. Cursing as she misses it, she’s about to check her voicemail. Arm still in a sling, she carefully balances her phone as she turns the corner only to see something. She isn’t sure what that something is, just that there’s something.

“The hell?” She mumbles under her breath, remaining at the end of the hallway. She assesses just who all is there and her brow furrows. She remains nearby, not approaching, still unsure of what’s going on.

"Marlowe. Why doesn't matter." Tania, clearly, can live without knowing their motives. At least for now. When he's rescued, then she'll dig deeper. The notion of going all in gets a sheepish look, but she cannot deny it.

She's distracted from the door and Marlowe when Robyn approaches. "Yes, that's us. It's good to see you, Robyn." The greeting is oddly calm given the situation. "I saw it, but I called her when I got here." She leans toward the SESA agent when she whispers, and Tania responds lowly. "They open the door, we blunder in. Confused, rude. We're viewing… the…"

Her words trail off when she sees Cassandra crouching by the door and sneaking along the wall. Her head tilts and she looks over at Robyn. Confused. And rude when she asks, "What is this?"

But, too late for explanations, because the noises behind the door get her attention. And when it swings open, she starts to open her mouth to speak, but stops at the woman's words. At her push. Leaving does seem like the smart thing to do here. Since they don't know what they're walking into.

But then there's a grunt. And a clatter. And as Alvin makes his way toward the door, Tania slams her foot down to wedge the door open before the woman has a chance to slam it closed on them.

"Where is he?"

A questioning blink at Robyn leads to a recognition and Marlowe too relaxes her alert to mere caution levels. She shakes her head to dismiss the theory that she saw the vision, letting Tania explain. But at the question of how things play out, she wiggles the phone in hand. "We call the police," she says with an added look to Tania as the woman knocks. No, we're not kicking down doors. The custodians have enough to keep clean without having to wipe off scuff marks on the door.

Marlowe leaves a rapidfire report once she reaches the park security's dispatch. Descriptions are made quickly of Robyn and Tania, separating them from the oddities. The number of the apartment in question. And a request for security to be called to the apartment immediately due to suspicious activity. Given the recent events, security is sure to be on it. "Hai. Hai, sou desu. Mou sugu hayaku kimasu ne? Hai. Arigatou gozaimasu." And with that she slips the phone away.

The first pleasant bing of the elevator chiming draws Marlowe's attention that way. When it's Cassandra who appears, though, she's eyed with a similar questioning blink that Robyn had received. Only this time, it doesn't lead to recognition. "Um, excuse me but, who are you?" Robyn gets a sidelong glance, given Cassandra appears to recognize 'Agent Quinn'. It's only when Alvin appears, suddenly, that she jumps a bit with his presence in their immediate midst. "Mou, I know they said security was coming but that was way faster than I thought." She breathes out.

It all happens in the span of moments, because in the next the door to the apartment opens and the old lady in the burgundy tracksuit appears. Marlowe pipes up with a slight bow of her upper half in respect, "Sumimasen, obaa-san, watashitachi wa chotto hen na koto wo—" And then the lady tells them to go. Marlowe blinks at her, and her brow furrows slightly as she starts to turn away. Well that was rude! "Ugh. C'mon Tania we don't need this drama," she starts to say. And she's a few quick half-steps away, but the clattering of metal and grunt makes her pause her exit. She doesn't move after anybody just yet, still caught in the puzzled look towards the apartment interior.

"Just Robyn," the SESA agent half grumbles to Cassandra, looking down at her. Her head tilts to the side slightly, and she lets out a sigh. "Rook, what are you doing? Stand up." Because this isn't a video game. Eyes on Cassandra for just a moment, and then she looks back to Marlowe. "Cassandra Baumann, also from an agency that doesn't matter out here," just like Robyn. "The hell are you doing here?"

It doesn't at all occur to Robyn that they're both here for the same reason.

She steps aside for Alvin, lets Marlowe talk in… Japanese, if she remembers what it sounded like when Elaine spoke it correctly. She's concerned, and that concern is all over her face - but she seems more than willing to let someone with actual authority take a lead on this. Or, at least, someone who actually works in Yamagato.

Go away.

Robyn blinks, looks back down at Cassandra. Huffs out a breath. "Guess it's not our business after all," she remarks in what would qualify as her normal, dour, french-tinged tone. She leans down, picking up her purse from where she'd set it behind the door. It's only then that she spots Elaine down the hallway, looking at her with a curious expression.

But, this is why she was here anyway.

Right? Sure. Let's go back to that.

At least until Alvin speaks up, and Tania wedges that foot in the door. Suddenly Robyn's gaze snaps back to it, and she draws in a deep breath. "Do you have authority to breach, if necessary?" is a question asked to Alvin - security is not necessarily the same thing as the cops, or as SESA.

“Sorry.” Cassandra says as she gets to her feet, cheeks tinged with red as she peeks around the doorframe at the jumpsuit-clad woman, her lurid red lipstick, and the apartment beyond. The Japanese is a common thing here - you hear it almost as much as any number of languages, which explains exactly why Elaine is so comfortable here. And suddenly, Cassandra really feels like not being here. “I guess it was just another one of those echoes.” She looks to Robyn for a second and shrugs, shouldering her bag, taking a step back from the door to peer in. “Yeah, breakfast time is waning and I’m looking forward to something sweet.” Her back is to Elaine, so she doesn’t notice the redhead making an appearance behind her.

And then Alvin just appears, announces as security, and attempts to push into the apartment. One brow arches and she fixes her gaze on Robyn again before she calls out to Alvin as he heads in. “Sir, do you need assistance clearing the apartment? We can help with whatever is going on.” She remains at the door, hand on her bag, ready for anything.

The little grandmother’s expression doesn’t change much, despite the arrival of more faces in the hall, including the arrival of Security.

“Oh, that is a new puppy,” she tells Alvin, speaking slowly and solemnly. “We are sorry. We are working on training him. Please tell neighbors we’re sorry. Please go now.

Again, there’s a push, the compulsion to turn and walk away.

She opens the door a little, only to try to shut it swiftly, banging it against Tania’s foot maliciously in the process. She doesn’t blink.

Behind her, a fifty-pound Great Mastiff puppy runs by, barking. Those closest to the door may notice that there’s no sound of those giant puppy feet on the pristine wooden floors of the apartment.

Suddenly, the group in the hall gets another wash of memory flooding over them — stronger than any of the others they’ve endured, almost visceral. As strong as their own memory of what’s happened to them in the past five minutes.

The room is dark but the curving lines of the signature Yamagato bathtub can be seen straight ahead, above the pent-up knees in threadbare denim. Booted feet are duct-taped together. Arms pinioned behind the back scream silently with pain. The attempt to cry out aloud is muffled by the tight, constricting feeling of something across the mouth — more duct tape.

”Someone’s at the door,” whispers a female voice, tinged with a Japanese accent. “I need your help. Reizo, bump her up.”

This time, the little grandmother’s head turns to the left, and somewhere, a male voice hisses, “Get him to stop!”

Alvin rushing by is not a good sign. Alvin doesn't rush. Unless he needs to. He doesn't wait up for Kay, though he would at least give her a nod of greeting as he passes her by and takes the stairs at speed.. "Waki ni ido." He commands to the woman standing in the doorway in a brooking no argument sort of tone. He means to get past her and through that door, and the woman is not going to stop him. Her behavior alone is suspicious enough for him to want to investigate.

"Yes." Is his single syllable response to Robyn's question. He's pretty much Judge Dredd within the park. "Marlowe." Alvin nods to her before he's trying to shove past the door, with force. She speaks, and tells them to go, and his mind goes clouded, the order sounding like a rather good idea, at least for a moment. Then the vision strikes, and he reels for a moment after it, but it weakens the hold that persuasion has on him. And he has a very sharp mind, and a honed will, which does the rest of the work.

The realization a moment later that the supposed dog running by made no sound has his eyes narrowing, hand slipping his gun free from it’s shoulder holster with smooth and practiced ease. It’s then pointed squarely at the old woman. "Down. And do not open your mouth again." He commands the woman, the obvious threat going unspoken. And if she does make the mistake of speaking again before he’s past her? It won’t end well. “Secure her.” Alvin responds to Cassandra’s question, waving his gun in the direction of the woman. “Gag her.”

Then he… vanishes. Vanishes to anyone who isn't a telepath. They will get hit with some very nasty telepathic feedback as he moves inside the apartment, listening for the sound of voices and moving in their direction. He doesn’t call out a warning to the men, nothing of that sort. That just lets them know they’re being hunted. He walks, invisible through the apartment in the direction of the noises that were heard from outside in the hallway.

The vision hits Kay like a truck, causing her to rest a hand against the wall to help her keep her balance. If this is what it’s like for the clairvoyants, pre- and post-cognitives of the world, Damaris is glad to be mundane.

Then Alvin springs into action and the former detective sucks in a breath through her teeth. This isn’t her jurisdiction. She doesn’t have jurisdiction, and she recognizes SESA agents. She really should leave…

This isn’t their jurisdiction either. But after what she’s seen, she can’t blame them for wanting to look into this.

Elaine steadies herself after a fresh wave of memories. So that’s what this was about. Moving in closer, she stays back so as not to crowd the doorway. It already sounds like at least two of them are making their way in, as long as they had the door open they could get backup if needed. Making her way to the periphery of the situation, she observes to see if there’s a way she can help.

Tania yanks her foot away after the woman slams the door against it. Her face scrunches up in pain as she takes a moment to walk it off. And that walk turns into walking away at the new compulsion. She doesn't even say anything, she just starts to go.

But then, the memory. And with it, her own convictions. She watches as Alvin tells the woman to get on the floor, as he and the agents discuss what to do, as he turns invisible. But in that moment, she starts for the door again herself, pushing past the woman— literally pushing her— to run into the apartment.

"Arlo!" she calls out, if only to let him know someone is there for him. She doesn't seem that worried about things like backup or weapons, she just runs through the apartment to try to find the bathroom, the tub, and hopefully, the captive.

Oh hey, a puppy, just like the woman said. The sight of a huge puppy bounding across the apartment gets a soft ‘aww’ from Marlowe, and she shrugs at first with the understanding that all’s well, turning to leave. Until it’s not. Her legs lurch to a halt and she’s forced to lean against the hallway wall for the moment as the memory washes over.

When her focus comes back to the present, Marlowe whirls back to the door. People are moving towards it, shoving past the lady. And she starts to as well, though the note from Alvin to secure the woman gets a questioning glance back to the SESA agents. She reaches a hand over to the apartment door, fingers brushing down a length of it as her power pulls the material away like a wet clay, and brings it down on the old lady’s wrist. The blue-white energy wraps around, forming a makeshift cuff that’s connected to the rest of the door. And when Marlowe’s eyes return back to their normal brown from the gold it had been, the mass solidifies.

She shoots a brief, somewhat humorless smile to the agents. They’ll watch her, right? Right. Then Marlowe turns and steps further into the apartment after Tania.

Go away.

Again Robyn blinks, head canting slightly to the side. She holds an arm out in front of her, blocking Cassandra's path. "No, I think- we should maybe go." Her gaze moves to Alvin, then inside. "We're…" She trails off, not finishing her thought before she again turns away. This time, though, she actually takes a few steps, before noticing Elaine and stopping.

She blinks, watching the taller woman for a moment. "Elaine? Are you here because-"

That's right. The memory, just as another one rolls over her and she freezes in place, eyes glazed over for a moment.

Suddenly, Robyn grits her teeth, before turning back to the door. "You," she remarks pointedly at the woman, before looking down at the restraint Marlowe as put into place, and then over at Cassandra. "Don't gag her. Be very careful, Cassandra. Even helping security, we have to mind ourselves. Anything we do will be judged twice as hard." Turning back to her bag, she kneels down to it, and pulls out two things that seem rather out of place otherwise - her phone, and a pair of small red over ear headphones.

"I think I know what's going on here," she mutters, thinking back to some of her training in how to handle certain abilities. Headphones are fitted over ears, plugged into phone, and suddenly, the other women can hear music start to pump out from them. She turns back to Cassandra, trying her best not to shout despite the music playing into her ears.

"Shallow distance into the room, just a few steps. Not too far. No sidearm, too much risk for incident. Keep an eye out for anything unusual." A look over to Kay, and then to Elaine. "We can't do anything officially, but at least we can help him." Since he asked for it. "If anyone has any objections, I'll heed them. We aren't here as SESA, but we're here to help still." She can't be doing anything here anyway, not as agents. "Otherwise let's try and keep everyone focused. Elaine, wait out here, out of this woman's earshot. Don't let anyone leave, not even us."

Simple instructions, she thinks, before she looks back to Cassandra, motioning her in. "Eyes up, Rook."

As for Robyn, she steps into the room, eyes immediately moving to the different points of ingress into the room, and egress out. Granted, that only matters so much when dealing with Evolved, but it's just good instinct.

That’s something she can do. With Robyn heading into the apartment proper, Cassandra is left to keep the rear with the rest of the people in the hall. She steps into the apartment and glances around. “Please, Grandmother. Sit.” She stands uncomfortably close to the other woman, never touching her but forcing her to sit on a small lacquered bench next to the door that is normally used for removing shoes before walking into the apartment proper. “I apologize for my companions. This unpleasantness will all be over in a few moments. Please do not try to speak or I will gag you before the first word is finished coming out of your mouth, and I do not wish to do that. It would ruin your makeup.” And she can do it, too with the length of silk she withdraws from her bag, wrapping it around her forearm, dangling a little as a silent threat. She remains standing there over the woman, peering into the apartment and out into the hall, her right hand tucked into her bag, holding something.

Elaine gets a small nod.. An acknowledgement that she’s been seen. “I just came to get breakfast…I wasn’t expecting this.”

None of them were, it seems.

When Alvin points the gun at her, the old woman still looks at him with a blank look, but it’s accompanied by a small, frightened squeak that belies the stoic expression. She doesn’t comply — there’s too much happening at once — before he heads into the apartment behind her, disappearing from view.

Tania’s push only budges the tiny woman a small amount — Tania is tiny, but the woman seems tinier. It should be easier than this. Instead, it’s like running into a wall of soft, resilient bricks. After a quiet oof, the woman grabs for the Russian redhead, but it’s then that she finds her arm suddenly looped by the door’s substance, keeping her in place.

She turns, still no emotion on that painted face, as Tania, Marlowe and Robyn flow past her into the apartment on the invisible heels of Alvin.

This is clearly not going to plan.

Don’t move,” she snaps at Cassandra — no more accent painting the edges of her words, no more age thinning the force of voice — when the SESA agent threatens her, and in the following few seconds that Cassandra grapples with that command, her free hand comes up to punch the young woman square in the jaw.

It’s no punch of a 90-pound obaa-san, that’s for sure.

Deep in the apartment, there’s another muffled sound — a cry for help that’s followed by the sound of a hand striking flesh.

“Reizo, shit, don’t-” shouts another voice. Young. Scared.

As the others make their way in, a pack of six Doberman Pinschers appears, blocking the path between the investigators and the source of the voices. They bark and snarl, hackles raised and spittle flying off impossibly sharp white teeth.

At the same time, those in the hallway and front door see the air shimmer for a moment around the little old woman — revealing a much younger, much taller woman with curly red hair and huge, fearful brown eyes. It’s a fleeting image, before the 5-foot-nothing obaa-san comes back into focus.

Alvin can hear some of the commotion back at the door with people debating and deciding what to do and what not, but he ignores it. He slips into the apartment and scans around him, gun out and ready, safety off though his finger is off the trigger. When the dogs appear there's zero hesitation from Alvin. The others will hear three hard bangs as he pulls the trigger on his pistol in rapid succession.

Three bullet holes appear in the floor at a downward angle below the dogs. It's after he fires the third shot that Alvin realizes nothing happened to the first dog and he pulls up short from firing more shots uselessly into the floor. Instead he just moves forwards, past the illusionary dogs, remaining invisible as he slips deeper into the apartment.

He knows the floorplans for the Cresting Wave apartments, so he knows right where the bathroom would be in this place, and it's there that he goes. He still moves along the side of the hallway. He fired his gun, the people causing the ruckus know there's someone in here with a gun, so he's not going to be stupid about his advance. He also doesn't call out terms for the people in the bathroom. He's going to sidle down the hallway and try to get a good look at what is going on in that bathroom.

Aaaand that’s gunfire. Kaydence is no longer crippled by her indecision, but instead starts to move forward. There’s an instinct to call out NYPD, but it dies in her throat. Robyn is clearly the senior agent on the scene and when she requests that someone keep people from leaving, Kay gives a stiff nod.

That? Well, that she can handle easily. At least, she has confidence.

Marlowe's progress into the spacious apartment halts with the sudden appearance of the pack of viciously barking dogs. Her first instinct, hurrying to get Tania out of the way of the Dobermans' snapping jaws, stops with the abrupt sound of gunfire that seems to come literally out of nowhere. She hits the deck, the painful jarring of her injured shoulder making the movement worse. "Look out!" she shouts out in general, not sure where the firearm is or who it belongs to at this point. The next instinct is one of survival, finding cover a priority.

Elaine isn’t entirely sure what’s going on at this point. Chaos sounds like it’s rampant inside as people file in. She’ll trust the others to know what to do. Instead she plays guard, moving a bit away from the door, standing between the entrance to the apartment and the stairwell. She’s not likely a great block, but she’ll slow down anyone attempting to flee, be it friend or foe.

The dogs are enough to pull Tania up short and she tucks herself behind a wall at first. But then it occurs to her that out of sight doesn’t matter so much to an animal’s sense of smell, so she steps out again with the intention of finding a room or a closet to hide in.

And that’s when she sees the bullets hitting the floor.

Well, then.

Tania turns back toward the voices, running that direction.

It is probably a good that Robyn can't hear Cassandra or see Alvin raising his gun to fire. No music of Robyn's could drown out the sound of gunfire, as much as she may want it to. She spins around, sees the dogs. Though she doesn't see a shooter, instincts take over. In a bit of a scramble, she gangways for the closest large piece of furniture, skidding behind it.

Also, wishing she had brought her purse and the firearm within with her, but this was the better option. Still, it doesn't leave her much.

Except for the umbrella leaning against the wall.

Sure, why not.

She snatches it up, peering back towards the centre of the room warily. Maybe this is going to be more of a situation than she thought, slipping one of the headphones slightly ajar incase anyone decides to yell something at or to her.

There's gunfire. There's a muttered sentence from oba-san, and suddenly Cassie isn't able to move. That only lasts for a second but that's enough for a sucker punch to send the diminutive agent stumbling back into the hall,, taking a half step to get her bearings. Thankfully, it doesn't take long, and She doesn't draw her sidearm - that's just going to cause more problems and that's the last thing that anyone wants to deal with, but she does take her bag - a heavy messenger-type bag, and swings it at oba-san’s head hard with her left hand, her right coming in at an uppercut when the woman tries to avoid the bag. Sucker punch her? Hardly! She's got SESA training, and knows how to take a punch as well as dish them out.

If this succeeds, she'll pin the woman down and tag her with the blindfold wrapped around her wrist.

The woman sees the courier bag coming for her and reaches to block it with one hand — her other hand is still caught in the grip of the door substance, morphed by Marlowe into a restraint. When Cassie punches her, it’s where the tiny grandmother’s head would be. But that punch strikes something else, something harder, that doesn’t jolt back the way a head should with such a punch. A wheezing gasp for breath follows, and the grandmother slumps against the door frame, sinking downward with her arm held aloft — she’s not unconscious but seems to have had her breath knocked out of her, as she gasps for air. Her expression doesn’t change — nor does that shimmering hint of the younger woman return.

Farther in the apartment, the illusions of the dogs simply stand, snarl and snap, not reacting to the gunfire, not reacting to people running through them. Down the hall leading to the bathroom, the door is flung open, slamming into the hallway wall behind it, as a teenage boy with scruffy brown hair comes flying out of the bathroom.

“Kiko! You need to talk to-” he begins before colliding into something, someone, he can’t see and flying backwards onto the hardwood floors with a painful slap of hands when they reach out behind him to break his fall. He stares in confusion at the space in front of him, before he looks up to lock eyes with Tania as she comes around the corridor next.

Marlowe, from her spot on the floor, ducking bullets, can see a pair of pink-socked feet behind a rice-paper screen, opposite the corridor that the illusive Dobermans guard.

Alvin was not expecting someone to come busting out of the bathroom like that. He dodges out of the way of the door with a smooth step to the side, only to get collided with by the teenager. Alvin doesn't hesitate to pistol whip the poor kid, smacking the very sturdy handle of the gun upside the kid's skull. It's a practiced move, one he knows well. And he knows what spots on the head to stay away from to avoid serious damage.

Whether the boy ends up unconscious or not Alvin will shove him off of him and get to his feet. If the kid isn't unconscious yet he'll get another pistol handle enhanced smack upside his head for good measure. If he is out, then Alvin will move on, well… take another step forwards, swinging around the doorway of the bathroom with his pistol out and ready. Next person who tries to run him over is getting shot in the leg.

A mental tally of gunshots is being kept. How many bullets fired versus how many may remain. It’s just as important to know how many your friends have as your foes. Kay presses her back against the wall on the opposite side of the doorway from Elaine. She gives a nod to the redheaded woman, an assurance. We’ll be okay here. If nothing else, Kaydence can help keep calm out here. There’s bound to be others by eventually wanting to find out what the commotion is about, or to gawk. There always is.

“Tania, are you okay?” calls Marlowe out from her spot on the floor. She has her good arm curled, fist ready in case the dogs come around to attack. When they don’t, and the gunfire doesn’t continue, she starts to crawl out behind cover. The pink socks behind the rice paper curtain get a double take. Then she reaches out her hand, fingers pressed on the floor as she focuses on bending and warping the corridor flooring in a line towards those feet. The smooth texture crackles with a line of blue-white energy that races for the pink socks, looking to swallow one or both feet into the flooring like unexpected quicksand, before she’ll let go and let the material reharden.

Elaine’s injured arm makes her a little less of use wrangling people but she can certainly keep an eye out for anyone trying to exit the apartment or enter the apartment. She gives a knowing nod to Kay— they’ll both handle things out here, should anything arise. She’s hoping, though, that nothing will arise. She’d really like things to be quiet for a little while. So she leans against the wall, waiting, hoping the gunfire was scare tactics and not actually for injury.

Tania meets the boy's gaze, a troubled look coming to her face. He's younger than what she was expecting to find here, really. And when she witnesses him getting hit with nothing, but obviously not with nothing, she comes over to kneel next to him to check on him. If a second hit is coming, it will have to come through the Russian.

She says something in her native language. By her tone, it's a curse.

"I'm fine, Marlowe," she calls out, maybe a little sharply. "Are you?"

When seemingly nothing cold cocks the new arrival not once, Robyn's eyes widen. Holding a tight grip on the umbrella, she jolts upright from her perch. "Que diable," she breathes out, eyes where the kid has fallen as Tania moves to cover him. She can't see Alvin, but after that she think she knows what's up. "What is this shitty security? There's no call for that!"

The exclamation comes with a look over towards the door. Marlowe is engaged in something of her own, and Tania looks like she's going to get to the bathroom faster than she can, so she rises up and darts through the apartment towards the bedroom. A loud whistle cuts through the air, originating from Robyn as she motions to Cassandra. "Rook, see if Tania needs help with the kid before the idiot police kill him or something."

As she crosses the room, she curses low and in French. "Does Yamagato security not carry negation with them?" Judging from what she's seen so far that would just make too much sense. You know, rather than assaulting people.

As she reaches the door to the bedroom, she presses aganst the frame, turning the doorknob and pushing it open just a crack so that she can peer in.

Rummaging around in her bag, Cassandra pulls out a set of handcuffs that are immediately locked around Oba-san’s wrist and locked to the other, kind of with her back to the door jamb, looking out. And while she gasps for air, Cassandra looks for the mouth which, more than likely, is a little above the head, to gag the woman, wrapping and tying the gag tightly. . Once that’s done, she draws her sidearm and whistles to Robyn, chambering a round before tucking it and her hand back into her bag. She's armed and the other agent knows it.

Maintaining proper trigger discipline, Cassie slips into the apartment proper to check on Tania and the kid, staying low as she starts toward them. “Let's get him to a room with a door we can shut or a corner.” She tells the other woman once she arrives. “ Somewhere defensible, where he can't hurt himself or us.” She stands nearby, her bag at the ready to defend against attackers, or dogs. She doesn't want to shoot, but she will. God, if she does, there will be so much paperwork…

Those feet in pink socks begin to struggle, kicking and pulling to try to extricate themselves from the wooden floor as it envelops them. Whoever they belong to makes a couple of squeaks of horror, before shouting, “Ika Sete!” This voice, too, is young and frightened. Next, tiny, dainty hands shakily grasp at the wood and try to pull or pry it up, but the morphed floorboards are too strong.

Chikushō! Reizo!”

The illusions are dropped. The dogs suddenly disappear. The tiny Japanese woman no longer sits slumped and handcuffed to the door; in her place, a very scared teenager sits in jeans and Converse and a green PINK sweatshirt, the white cloth from Cassandra more around her eyes and nose than her mouth — still, she doesn’t try to use her power.

“It’s the Watanabes,” she tells Kay, her voice a little raspy for all of her gasping. She’s ready to throw some friends under the bus, it seems.

In the hallway, coldcocked by Alvin, the scruffy, lanky American boy’s brown eyes widen with surprise before he slumps to the floor in the hallway in a crumpled heap, giving anyone on the way to the rooms an obstacle to maneuver around, but little more.

When Robyn gets to the master bedroom, the only one in the hallway she’s chosen to investigate, there’s no one there. A family portrait of a Japanese couple in their fifties with two teenage children is resting on the middle of the large, king-sized bed. A quick glance around the room reveals the empty hanging apparatus above a safe with a digital keypad.

In the bathroom, a tall, middle-aged man is hog-tied in the bathtub, his bald head leaning against the wall; a trickle of blood makes its way down the pristine white tile. The opposite temple and cheek are mottled, purple, bruising from the strike that apparently knocked him unconscious. Crouching next to the bathtub is the teenage Japanese boy — likely ‘Reizo,’ holding the gun against the kidnapped man’s head. As the door moves with as the invisible Alvin makes his way in, the kid waves the gun toward the doorway.

“Don’t or I’ll shoot!” the teenager bleats out.

Close to Marlowe, the pink-socked person cries out, “Akiramero, Reizo! It’s done! Don’t get anyone killed!”

Alvin isn't going to kill anyone that he doesn't have to. But he's also not going to let the kid wave a gun around like that. He waves the gun and Alvin moves forwards at a fast pace, forward and to the side. His own gun is held up, and as he drops his stealth and pops into view, he also presses the muzzle of his gun against the kid's head, making sure to do it while he still has the gun pointed in the direction of the door.

"Jū o henjō sureba, kimi wa kizutsuitenai." Give me the gun and you won't be harmed. "Yakusoku suru." I promise you this. And he'll hold his left hand out for the gun, hoping that the kid gives it to him, but if it looks like he's not, or like he's going to do something stupid Alvin will try to take the weapon from him. And close quarters like this is the security specialist's playground.

“Do not come in here!” He shouts out to the rest of the apartment. Arguments of permission given will be had later, for right now he doesn’t want anyone getting shot that doesn’t need to be. But there definitely will be some discussion about overstepping of authority on the part of SESA.

Oh, fuck. “Alvin!” What does she even say to get his attention? She knows how focused he gets. Serve and protect comes to mind. These are scared children. Kaydence flips out her phone and begins to rattle off a text message with one hand. They’re going to need some form of back-up here before long. Mott can’t be expected to handle it himself, and they can’t rely on SESA to do Yamagato Security’s work. She makes a point of flagging the call to the Watanabe residence.

“What the hell is going on?” Kay shoots a look to Elaine before she slips her phone back into her purse and moves closer to where the teenager is held fast. “I can’t help your friends if I don’t know what I’m walking into. Help me help them.”

Elaine looks about as puzzled as Kay does, but she looks for the woman back to the newly revealed teenager. She doesn’t move from her position, staying ready in case anyone decides to come barrelling out the doorway, but she echos Kay’s sentiments. “Explain what’s going on and we can resolve all of this quickly and safely.”

"We are not moving someone with a head injury," Tania says, cutting Cassandra a look as she starts to pull her jacket off. "Unless you want to make it worse." Which she doesn't, her tone implies. Her jacket is folded up and she slides it under the boy's head, her touch gentle and careful. "You elevate the head, you watch for changes in his breathing, and you call for real medical help."

And to that end.

"Marlowe! We need a doctor!"

Because this kid is not going to be hurting anyone anytime soon.

There's a glance toward the bathroom, when Alvin reappears and starts to talk, and she turns back to Cassandra. "Put your gun away," she whispers, "They had an attack here, they're on high alert." Clearly, her glance says as she looks back toward Alvin.

Rolling over onto her back, Marlowe lies there to give her throbbing shoulder a moment. She doesn’t respond initially to Tania’s first question whether or not she’s okay, because in that moment she hears the young victim of her little floor trap. After Reizo’s threat to shoot, and Alvin’s sudden voice telling people not to barge into where he is, she sits up in alarm. “Shit,” her swear comes out in a groan. And then she hears the call for the doctor and Marlowe’s getting to her feet. “Alright!” her response is clear and indicative of her position.

She’s not that far away, crossing within line of sight of the front door and shooting a glance to make sure the little obaa-san is there… only she’s not and instead looks to have been replaced by another teenager. “What the…” It spurs her forward into the hallway, soon turning into view where Cassandra and Tania are there with a third youth. She blinks at Cassandra, then at Tania, and remembers to pull out her phone. Even one handed, her text speed is quick. A message is sent off to the park medical hotline requesting immediate medical assistance.

But. “OK Help’s on its way. Where’s Arlo?” she asks Tania, hoping the woman will know. Even though Marlowe’s got a pretty good idea where, given the call out for the people in the apartment not to go where Alvin is. She frowns, voice lifting to ask aloud so he can hear, “Mott-san, buji na no? Kono kodomotachi wa mou kyōide nai yo.” And she looks around for the other SESA agent, Robyn, given that Cassandra is inside as well.

With the master bedroom empty, Robyn makes note of the safe and then emerges from within, before quickly moving from there to the other rooms, checking each as she's been trained to do. Music still playing into her ears and umbrella still clutched tight in hand. "All rooms clear," she calls back as she steps back out into the main room, unclipping her headphones from her ears and letting them dangle, draped over her shoulders.

She looks to Marlowe, to Cassandra, and lets out a long sigh. To Tania, and the reverse - a deep breath sucked in. "Where's Quick Draw McGraw?" she asks of them, the tone of her voice making it clear exactly how unhappy she is with this whole situation. Her eyes move the bathroom - where Alvin was headed earlier, and she shakes her head.

"Is everyone else okay?" The question is directed at the room at large, Robyn flipping the umbrella upside down so that she can use it like a cane. A look over to Kay, and then to Elaine. "You have my apologies, ladies," she offers with a slight incline of her head. For her involvement, more than anything else. Cassandra, she's going to let speak for herself. "Did…" she pauses, looking around. "Did any other security come, or was it just this guy?" If the latter, well. As much as she should've stayed out of it, that makes her a bit happier she didn't.

But with that, she moves closer to the doorway, a glance offered once more over to Elaine, before she crosses her arms and waits.

“Just fine, Robyn.” Cassandra says, standing straight with her hand still concealed, her gun never leaving the confines of her bag except to be loaded and readied before it’s tucked away. Her gaze flits from the front door to the hallway leading to the bathrooms and back again. She’s ready for as much as she can be with an ability to see the past. It seems Cassandra is leaning heavily on her training which, thankfully, is fairly recent and fresh in her mind. With Robyn standing guard by the door, Cassandra stands over the fallen kid, kneeling next to him, her free hand in the middle of his chest, elbow locked, holding him down with just enough force to let him know she’s there after checking his pulse and breathing. If he moves to escape he’ll get a light smack and a knee planted there instead. Combined with her body weight, he’d have to melt into the floor to keep her from holding him there, but with the head injury, he’s probably not going much of anywhere.

Alvin’s call of ‘Don’t come in here!’ echoes through the apartment, cassandra letting out a sigh at that. “Man reminds me of an 80’s action film.”

In the bathroom, Reizo’s brown eyes widen at the sudden appearance of Alvin and the feel of the gun’s cold barrel against his head. His hand shakes, and for a second it looks like he might accidentally shoot the weapon even if he doesn’t want to. But he manages to press it into Alvin’s hand. Arlo, in the bathtub, seems to be close to coming around, his eyelids fluttering at the noise and tension in the room around him, a low groan coming from deep in his throat.

The handcuffed teenager’s eyes find Kay’s and she shakes her head. “We thought we could pull it off without hurting anyone. Especially Arlo. We just wanted to find the-”

“Shut up, Clarissa!” hisses out the other teenager, the one still hidden behind the screen, feet embedded within the flooring courtesy of Marlowe.

The redhead rolls her eyes at the other teenager’s words. “Give it up, Akiko. They have telepaths who can find out in three seconds what’s going on, right? Your uncle, for one.” She looks back to Kay. “Reizo’s an augmentor. Arlo’s a memory guy.” She shrugs, as if that should be enough to answer the questions.

The one name that hasn’t been spoken yet belongs to teen that Cassandra watches over. He too is slowly coming back up to the surface of consciousness, the shock of pain and force from the blow of Alvin’s pistolwhip enough to stun him for those few seconds. He blinks groggily but puts up no fight, his eyes struggling to focus on Cassandra.

There’s a ding from the hallway followed by the whoosh of automated doors, and security guards and the paramedics file out of the elevator and into the apartment.

Alvin takes the gun from the kid and tucks it into his shoulder holster. It's not an exact fit, but it's close enough. "Up. Out." He guides the kid out of the bathroom, and into the living room, pulling a set of cuffs from somewhere under his suit and slapping them on the kid. "Go sit down." Once the situation is in hand and he doesn't need it? Alvin's gun is safetied and tucked into a pocket.

"There are more security guards on the way." Alvin says in a cool tone as he looks over at the SESA agents that entered the apartment anyway. "If you hadn't come in, the illusions wouldn't have been necessary. I wouldn't have had to ruin some very nice flooring. And the gun shots wouldn't have alerted the teen in the bathroom to come rushing out, thus requiring me to pistol whip him and make sure he wasn't going to cause any further trouble. So if you want to blame someone for being too quick on the draw?" A pointed look at Robyn at that. "Maybe you should consider behaving a little more professionally in the future."

When the other security guys come in Alvin directs them where to go, and that there's a man in the tub that needs to be freed. He also instructs them to get the pistol whipped kid immediate medical attention for possible concussion. "Go kyōryoku itadaki arigatōgozaimasu Terrell-san." A moderate bow to Marlowe before he looks around the apartment with a soft sigh.

“Thought you could pull off what, Clarissa? Tell me exactly what you thought you were going to manage to do.” Kay glances over her shoulder when she hears the elevator doors open. “This might be your one shot to tell me your story.” Though she’s not opposed to attempting to pull rank to sit in on these interviews if she can manage it. She’d rather not have to.

Damaris and Mott’s reports are likely going to be very different when it comes to the helpfulness or hindrance provided by the SESA employees. Chalk it up, perhaps, to the sympathy she holds as a former cop.

Elaine doesn’t move as more security finds their way in, instead standing nearby to hear the teen’s story. “It really would help everyone a lot if you let us know the full story. Cooperation goes a long way in these things.” She’s hoping that at least they can understand what happened in spite of the chaotic way it ended. Her gaze turns to the interior of the apartment briefly, but then turns back to Kay and the teen.

With Alvin's re-emergence into view and his gun pointed at his suspect, Marlowe stiffens tensely at the sight. And puts two and two together before the security specialist runs down a timetable of purported causality. A line of annoyance cuts through her expression as Marlowe moves to turn the rice paper screen, revealing the pink-socked Akiko who is stuck into the floor. "They're just children, Mott, you really needed to pistol whip them into shape? And you're accusing her," she gestures at Robyn, "of being unprofessional?" Marlowe huffs and shakes her head, though, reining in a rising temper. This isn't the fight she was expecting when she left her apartment to meet Tania. Definitely not what she expected when she called the park security, either. Alvin might thank her for her help, and she politely returns the bow with one of her own. It’s only politeness.

It isn't until the appearance of more security and a medical team that Marlowe manages to relax her guarded demeanor. In doing so, she gets out of the way for the paramedics to tend to the injured. Only when the security guards seem to be needing a way to extract the captured teens does Marlowe step back in to help release and then reform the flooring and door after the teens are taken into custody. The gathering around the apartment doorway by now has drawn more eyes from other apartments, so Marlowe starts to step back. "Tania," she calls over to the Russian amidst the fray, "C'mon let's go back downstairs."

She doesn't immediately turn away, but lingers so that they can at least watch when Arlo is taken by the medics. She'll get his information later.

Tania relaxes visibly when the paramedics arrive. She gives them a rundown of the boy's injury and her observation, then get the hell out of the way to let them handle it. She ends up coming over to Marlowe, a hand reaching for her friend's (good) arm. "I'm with you. And I could use a drink."

But she also watches as the medics handle Arlo. She breaks away from Marlowe only long enough to come over to his side. "Arlo. I have Friday. I'm taking care of her." Like he might be reassured to know his dog is okay. Better than he is. She looks up at the medics. "You'll tell him, won't you?" Since he might still be a little out of it. She seems to think he'll get the message one way or another, because she comes back over to Marlowe, to let her lead the way back down once they're all clear to go.

When Alvin addresses her, Robyn lets out a gasp, eyes widening. Being called unprofessional in the face of this madness results in her letting out an incredulous sound. Anyone paying attention can see one of her hands clenching into a fist, knuckles white and and hands shaking as she stares at Alvin. "Oh," she breathes out. A list of responses runs through her mind something like I didn't realise assault and battery, excessive force, and entry with any mind paid to the rest of the area were the professional ways of going about things.

Instead she simply exhales sharply, runs a hand through her hair, turns, and leaves the apartment, no further comment offered to Cassandra, Tania, Marlowe, Kay, or even Elaine. All that can be heard as she makes her way down the hall and towards the elevator is "Ce morceau de merde! Je ne peux pas le croire!" and a string of french curses that still hasn't stopped when the elevator doors close.

There’s a metallic click as the safety on her service pistol is engaged, Cassandra removing her hand from her bag and standing up, off of the boy on the floor, crossing her arms about waist height as she watches security swarm into the apartment, like ants over a mound of sugar. She steps back and away to give the paramedics room to work. Criticism is given from the assault trooper who fired the only shots at invisible dogs while they were in the doorway of the apartment and Cassandra gets the external look of someone who’s able to move that sort of thing exactly where it belongs. Inside, though, she’s bristling. She and Robyn did nothing wrong, and even then, Cassandra didn’t enter the apartment until gunfire happened, when Alvin fired those shots into the floor.

“Thank you for your critique, Sir.” Cassandra says sweetly, watching as her blindfold heads off with the woman by the door, her gaze snapping back to Alvin. “I will be sure to inform a supervisor of your complaints and of what went on here today. Since my superior and I were here visiting residents of the Cresting Wave tower, and not as representatives of any organization, governmental or otherwise, I trust that our assistance is no longer required.”

She takes a moment to pluck a notepad from inside of her bag, flips to a blank page, and scribbles her name, her non-SESA-affiliated lawyer’s name, and his number, passing it to whoever decides to grab it. Then, to Alvin, she gives a short, respectful bow. Culturally appropriate at this time. “In the event that we are needed for witness statements or to assist in the investigation of what occurred here, this is how you can reach my attorney to arrange a meeting. Thank you very much for your attention.”

Cassandra straightens and moves out of the apartment, pausing near Elaine with a sigh. “Just wanted to come take you to breakfast and ended up helping rescue a guy in a bathtub. Just a regular day, I guess. Call me.” And she moves to the elevator, surprised that it’s not scorched from the profanity.

The Watanabe siblings, Akiko and Reizo, find themselves cuffed and sullenly staring up at security guards who wait for the rest of the room to empty before they’ll haul the kids off to detainment.

Akiko seems a couple of years younger than the other three teens, a tiny thing but full of anger as she glares over at Clarissa, and rolls her eyes when the groggy American boy is also loaded onto a stretcher beside Arlo.

“Is Eddy going to be okay?” asks Clarissa, much more sympathetic to the plight of the pistolwhipped teen than Akiko, before she turns to Kay and shrugs. Clearly, she’s no longer worried about throwing her friends under the proverbial bus, angry as she is.

“They wanted Mr. Watanabe’s passwords into the safe and computer. Figured if we could get him to access and share that memory, we’d have a better chance of getting the whole thing.” She glares back at Akiko. “Instead we found out all the reasons we should hate each other.”

Arlo’s sad blue eyes blearily blink at Tania but he gives her a slow nod, reaching out to touch her shoulder, patting it twice. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice raspy, before closing his eyes again when the medics put an oxygen mask over his face and move him onto a stretcher.

He adds, quietly, not to anyone in particular, the words muffled a bit by the plastic mask, “I told them my ability doesn’t work like that.” He seems apologetic, sad and frail. “Memories don’t work like that.”

The medics raise the stretchers and make their way out of the apartment, leaving the three handcuffed teenagers to give their statements and make their pleas. With the impending headache of paperwork, unhappy parents, and the need for some good PR work, the one silver lining is that the case of the strange visions plaguing Yamagato Park has been solved.

The morning’s events may become, for some, just one more bad memory to try to forget.

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