Participants:
| Scene Title | Little By Little |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Ryans asked Huruma to be there on the 8th to back him up if he needs it, they both end up reluctantly admitting their friendship. |
| Date | November 07, 2010 |
Gun Hill: Ryans's Apartment
A vest is laid out on the one of many card tables that occupy, Benjamin's Ryans sparsely decorated apartment. Various armaments are laid around, hand guns, knives, magazines, grenades… even some plastic explosive for last minute explosives. He fiddles with the various pouches and clips, attempting to get everything packed into the vest. Laying on a metal chair nearby is body armor, waiting to be put on for tomorrows chaos.
Brows are lowered in concentration as he pushes a magazine of 9mm's into place, lips pressing together in to a fine line. Ben ends up not completely happy with it's placement and it's plucked out again, only to tuck it into another spot.
He looks unkempt to the point of needing a trim, thin locks of it brush across his forehead as he works, occasionally needing to be brushed aside with a flick of his hand. His jawline is scruffy with a light beard, it goes with his more casual clothing of a long sleeved black henley and a worn pair of jeans.
When a knock breaks his concentration, Ryans doesn't move from what he's doing, instead he calls out, "It's open!" That deep voice carrying even through the thick door.
Huruma is yawning when she opens the door, one hand half-covering the widening of her mouth, the muscles in her neck lapping up a burst of air for her lungs. She doesn't look tired, to tell the truth, but maybe there is something more metaphysical about her need. Closing the door behind her, one sleeve of her late autumn coat meets close lips with a rumble of her breath settling in.
"You are a very busy bee, aren't you?" The woman comments as she wanders inside, taking a quick and due stock of his stock, and what he seems to be getting ready for 'Doomsday', as it were. When she finally realizes what he's doing is essentially packing up his vest in the most picky way possible, it gives her a small measure of a smile. "You pack like a woman."
The comment only gets a grunt in response, the ex-agent not bothering to look up from what he's doing yet. A few more magazines are tucked into place and a holster moved, before she gets a glance from blue eyes. "Busy work mainly."
Meaning he is trying to keep his mind off of things.
"Delia up and moved out without a word." Ryans growls out in irritation, shoving a grenade into place. "All her things were gone and I can't get a hold of her, no word from Jaiden. She's so damn determined to make sure I don't die…" He drops the vest on the table in his frustration and straightens, snarling, "Stubborn, fool-headed girl."
"Mmm… I hear that runs in th'family." Huruma responds, moving to inspect his explosives with a familiar boldness. She seems to know what she is doing, at least, which is a relief and something to possibly worry about. It's enough that she can plow holes in buildings with a gun, let alone bombs. "I take it sh'wanted t'get out of the city? If it is with him, at least you cannot worry." It is something that Huruma can put her remote faith in Jaiden, even when knowing she would rather have the girl where she can see her. Perhaps Ben feels the same.
"Would you rather she be careless, or cautious…?"
"I have not one idea of what she has planned," and that is probably what chafes the old man most. Ryans has no way of knowing she will be truly safe. "As far as I know, her actions are careless." He glances at Huruma before snatching up the vest again, to get back to what he is doing. "Lucille is still there, but she is just as clueless of what her sister is doing.
"I don't like it," Benjamin growls.
"At least, I can appreciate my mothers wisdom of letting me sign up at sixteen, at least the military beat some sense into my skull." Not right away, if what was witnessed in the early years of Vietnam says anything. "I don't give a damn who she's with, she is my daughter."
But then he sighs heavily and plucks up another magazine and tucks it away. "Thank you for coming by." Finally, he recognizes that she took the time to visit when asked.
Huruma cannot hope to diffuse a lion's angry mood right now- she is simply not in the game for it. So, she doesn't. Presumably, she may agree with him. Telling him it is okay probably will not to much to calm him at all, and assuming that things after Sunday will be okay is a terrible thing to assume. But, give Delia a little credit, hm?
"Of course. This is about Monday's…activities, is it not?"
"Yes," comes the gruff answer from the old man.
"In my vision you were there," Ryans starts, glancing her way out of the corner of his eye, the buckled of the vest are undone so that he can slip it over his shoulders. "Though things have changed, I could still use you at my back." The vest hangs loosely, probably to accommodate for any body armor he'll be wearing.
"Rebel is — probably compromised." Brows drop into a look of deep concern for the technopath. The events that happened up in the shuttle have left Ryans wondering if the entity survived. "I'm going to feel somewhat vulnerable without his assistance, but there is nothing I can do about that."
"I'ave no'heard from him since you went up. I could no'tell you what happened as much as anyone else." Huruma says, after a few passing moments of thought. "You were as capable as you are b'fore he was in your life. I am sure that we can manage." We. A subtle way to explain that her answer is a profound 'yes, I will be there'. The dark woman places the explosives in her hand back with its fellows.
"What are your logistics looking like?" Where, when, how, et cetera.
"If all this goes down…" He can't stress 'if' enough, because much like others he is hoping it doesn't. "If it goes down, there will be evacuations to a specific location that is being held under wraps for the time being." The glance Ryans gives Hooms now, states clearly he won't say where if asked. There must be a good reason why.
"I also don't know if I will be able to stay here. I have put Lashirah in charge of helping Lynette protect the people here til we can get them out and to Red Hook." A pair of Glocks are seated into holsters attached to the vest, Ben giving them a push to clip them into place. "I am working with the Ferry's Special Activities unit for this."
He stops what he is doing, hands drop away from the vest, "I won't know an awful lot til it all goes down, not knowing makes it tough to truly plan."
"Special Activities. I suppose that is one way to put it…" Huruma murmurs, mostly for herself, crossing her arms at the elbows and watching Benjamin put his vest together piece by piece. "What do they think of you wanting me with you? You did tell them?" It would be a little awkward if he hadn't, but she has more faith than that, for the most part.
"Should I stick wit'you, Monday morning, or move ou't'Red Hook, waiting f'instructions?" Huruma is careful in her wording this, her voice level.
A small hint of a smile touches his lips as Ryans pops the vest open again and shrugs it off his shoulder, a hand catching it before it can hit the floor. "Jensen Raith heads it from what I can tell, he said he has worked with you before, so — " He shrugs. " — no issues.
"And I'd like you here in the morning, if possible. I'd rather you with me, then else where." Teams work best when they are together. Benjamin takes the time to arrange the vest on the table, going silent as he does.
Huruma smiles, lips curling at the corners. "Raith? Yes. I enjoyed working with him, albeit for a short time." She nods once, head tilting slightly to watch his hands. "Certainly. Is there anyone else, aside from Jensen?" Three badasses is all well and good, but three is not a team. Lasirah has the task of being here at Gun Hill, with Lynette, so perhaps the Special Activities section is not as big as it ought to be. Huruma isn't sure yet.
"What supplies d'you need f'th'morning?" She hesitates to offer to hide a truck somewhere- because if this does all go down, no telling what the government will put into action.
"Most I can think of, is to see what Lashirah might need for the defense of this place." Ryans says finally forcing himself to relax and stop fiddling with vest. Hands tuck into his pockets and he steps away from it, eyes going to the spare bedroom. "Beyond that, just bring yourself," he says with a small smile her direction.
"As for other defenders… I don't know. I'm not Ferry," yet.
"I imagine there will be no idle hands tomorrow, especially if they want to survive what may be coming." Attention finally settles on Huruma and the old man studies the tall woman. Taking a few steps closer, he seems to be judging her of something, that he might say something.
When he does finally speak, it is a simple and polite, "Thank you."
Neither is she Ferry, but here she is, virtually a regular face at Gun Hill. Huruma does not usually impress her ability on reading Ryans, much of the time, but reserves it for moments such as this where she has a difficult time discerning his intent by his manner. 'Thank you' is not what she was expecting, but then again, she wasn't sure what she was expecting. Huruma studies him in return, remaining where she stands even when he moved closer.
"You-" The woman's voice pauses soon after she begins, choosing careful words. Her eyes hold just a glimmer of curiosity while her ability draws outward to study him. "-are one of th'only friends I do have."
"I am not about to ignore that."
A smile touches Benjamin's lips, pulling it to one side, and he nods, stepping away from her, eyes cast to the floor. It's hard to really read the emotions that boil around in the man's head. Worry is prevalent, but what he says to her is all true. "I — have changed so much," he starts, his tone thoughtful.
"I look in the mirror and it isn't the same man from only a handful of months ago." Stopping in the doorway of the spare room he gazes into it, eyes unfocused. "You are one of the few people that I have any trust for." His head turns her direction some, but he still doesn't look at her. "If you asked me back them if I would feel that way about you… I would have thought they were crazy.
"You killed my partner and put me out of commission for a time, took me on a hell of a chase." Blue eyes narrow some as if trying to see into her as much as she can him. "But you've changed, just as much as me, Huruma.
"And — I do see you as a friend." It takes a lot for the ex-Company man to admit that, but then she must know that.
It shouldn't be this hard for one person to tell another 'you are my friend'. For once enemies, even by a distance of more than a decade, it is a very difficult and very deep thing. That deep, dark secret that you realize is true. Attacking and killing his partner was something she had to do, and she does not regret doing it. The thing she does regret, years later, is that she had to, and that it has come between a verbal friendship for this long. His attempts at discerning her come off mostly futile, but there is a definite smoothness in her posture, now. Compared to her usually straight-backed state.
She glances downward, when it finally- finally- comes out. It does feel like something taboo, when he makes it mutual. But if once enemies can become friends, there is always a glimmer of hope in the world. Huruma only smiles when she lifts her head again, the expression far more gentle than he might be used to, and more than she might intend it to be.
"Haba na haba hujaza kibaba. Little by little, fills the pot." Sometimes, however cliche, proverbs fit.
