London Calling


colette_icon.gif jaiden_icon.gif quinn_icon.gif tasha_icon.gif

Scene Title London Calling
Synopsis For once a Ferry mission is completed without disaster striking when Jaiden is recruited.
Date August 11, 2010

Jaiden's Garage

The noise of traffic across much of New York City is standarzized from one borough to another, and save for the untamed wilds of Staten Island most neighborhoods from one part of the city to the other could blend in to the untrained eye that isn't able to pick out the subtle landmarks on the skyline or in the immediate vicinity. From most places in New York City, the Ruins of Midtown rising skeletal and broken from the heart of Manhattan serves as something of a grim compass to most navigators. Seeing that somewhere on your field of vision is an easier way to get bearings than finding the north star.

But much like other places in new York, even the ruins can look indistinct to the untrained eye. One crumbling building blending into the next, each skeleton of iron framework drooping half melted to the ground like a wilted flower looking much like the next. You live long enough in post-bomb New York, though, you pick up a knack for navigating.

Admittedly, Colette Nichols probably should have traded her navigation skills for a little bit of planning. It wouldn't do anyone harm.

"Do you think seven minutes warning was enough?" The aforementioned Nichols' girl's voice carries sheepishly out of the Yellow Cab taxi that idles out front of a garage nestled into the city's summer sun soaked streets. While the late afternoon haze provides some relief from the weather, the humidity is still as oppressive as ever.

Piling out of the back of the cab, Colette shifts around to lean in the passenger window, offering up a folded stack of bills to the cab driver with a saluting motion of her other hand. "Thanks Chuck, I 'preciate it." Coming all the way out to visit a prospective Ferrymen recruit is a big responsibility, especially for young women in the organization whom hardly have what one would call seniority. That Eileen's entrusted this trio to checking out one Jaiden Mortlock is exemplary of Eileen's trust in them, and her desire to have Quinn hit the ground running in the network.

Hopefully Jaiden doesn't mind the impromptu interview arriving outside.

The building the cab pulls up in front of is a repurposed warehouse with two garage doors built out of bricks painted a ruddy red. It sits atop a concrete foundation with some small windows peering out from below, indicating a basement. As far as Jaiden and what he thinks? It really doesn't matter if seven minutes warning was enough - it had to be. He was expecting a meeting, after all, but he was thinking it would be with a little more warning. Ah well. After putting the phone down, Jaiden spent a minute or two closing the shop upstairs (basically shutting and locking doors and turning off lights and signs, giving the outward appearance of being closed) and another three minutes charging downstairs to his apartment to shower. The last two minutes were spent throwing on relatively clean clothes and running back upstairs to wait out front for whoever is arriving….or rather, has arrived in a yellow cab.

The man smiles sheepishly, running a hand through his still damp hair at the sight of the three women, pulling a battered akubra - the iconic Australian hat - down onto his head. "Ladies." He looks from one to the other to the other. All new faces - great, but the smile never leaves his face.

Robyn Quinn's been uncharacteristically quiet for most of their trip out today - not entirely so, but she's not exactly brimming with conversation about the new drumset she just bought, the albums that came out yesterday, prospective parties, trying to convince the pair to come to Tartarus… No, this trip is spent largely staring out the window of the cab, occasionally commenting on something that passes or asking the other two what they had been up to lately. She's nervous, and it's fairly obvious.

But about the time the cab comes to its stop and she hops out the far side, there's a wide smile on her face. "See? It's fine!" Quinn exclaims with a laugh and a shrug. "Could'a been worse. We could'a just showed up, you know? At least now we know he's actually in before we decide t' just show up!" She seems to be back in high spirits as she slings her bag back over her shoulders and straightens her skirt, moseying on up to join the others. "Hello~!" she says with a bit of a wave, a grin on her face.

"It's long enough for him to pull on a pair of pants and get rid of any joints, anyway," Tasha says quietly as she slips out of the cab with a playful snicker, reaching up to push her too-long bangs out of her eyes. She surveys the building they stand outside. To look more like a grown-up worthy of the duty entrusted to her and her cohorts, Tasha is not in her usual cut-off jeans or an Invader Zim t-shirt today, but instead in a gray denim dress, feet in red ballet flats.

When Jaiden greets the trio, she glances at the other two, wondering just what they look like in his eyes — two teenagers and Quinn relatively young — would they garner anyone's trust? She waves to him. "Hi. You must be Jaiden?" she asks, glancing at Colette and pushing her a little forward as their fearless leader.

Two taps on the roof of the cab from Colette's palm comes before the vehicle departs, and as the dark-haired girl twists to face the Austrailian-accented man stepping out of the garage, the wind catches her ink-black hair, blowing bangs aside to reveal that they'd attempted to hide the milky white and blinded quality of her right eye. "Hey there!" Colette enthusiastically greets, waving one hand around in the air, sunlight glinting off of a bracelet fleetingly seen beneath the loose sleeves of the unbuttoned black men's dress shirt she wears. That itself contrasts against the carnation red t-shirt worn beneath, bearing a faded likeness of Che Guevara's face on the front and stenciled words that are barely legible enough to read as 'Never Too Late'.

"You must be Stirling," Colette says with a sing-song tone of voice, yellow-laced black boots clomping up the pavement and onto the sidewalk, one overful pocket of her black cargo pants jingling with each step from loose change. "I'm Colette," she explains with a slant of her head to the side and a swish ofher bangs. "This is Tasha and Quinn," she adds with a motion of one hand to each of them in turn.

"You mind if we go on in t'talk?" is asked with a raise of one black brow, her mismatched eyes staring past Jaiden towards the building, then back to the Aussie. "Ain't really street conversation."

Jaiden's clothes are clean, thankfully, and his shirt, a mouse-gray tour shirt from one of Henry Rollins' spoken word shows, shows no holes or rips. Lucky grab from the closet, it seems. He strides a little closer and politely doffs his hat to the trio, offering his right hand to shake - first to Colette, then Quinn, then Tasha. "I am Jaiden Stirling, yes'm. A pleasure to meet you all. Come on." He straightens and motions for them to follow. "It's cooler and much more private inside."

The inside of the garage is exactly as you would expect - lifts, a bench with tools, a few cars up on jacks near the garage doors, but against the far back wall, nearly hidden by a rack that holds a massive assortment of used tires, is a generator that wouldn't look out of place in an electric plant or an automotive factory. He does pause a moment to allow all three to enter before closing and locking the door behind, walking around a parked Mustang to pull open a bit of chain-link fence that blocks off the stairs leading down. Well-lit, the sounds of an air conditioner running downstairs can be heard even from up here, and the soft hiss of something pumping. "Follow me, please?" He gives each woman a smile before turning on his heel and heading down to the basement.

"Nice to meet you," the smallest of the three says, her own small hand taking his for the shake as Tasha finds herself grinning at the accent. She nods as she follows him into the garage, glancing at the various tools and cars and tires, then following down the steps after Jaiden, glancing back to make sure that her cohorts are with her. "So, how long have you been in the States? I'm going to go out on a real crazy limb and say you're not a native son," Tasha quips lightly.

The first Basement room is roughly rectangular, about 25 feet on the long side by 20 feet on the shorter side with two central support columns sunk deep into the earth below. The worn flagstone floor has been swept clean, the cobwebs cleared from the heavy wooden rafters and the dust cleaned off of the walls with lots of elbow grease, soap, and water, making the place somewhat habitable. There are a few flourescent lights mounted to the ceilings, but these are generally turned off, leaving the lighting to the few lamps scattered at various intervals around the room. This is Jaiden's living area.

A few rugs are scattered here and there, along with a leather couch and a recliner. Near the back wall, a queen-sized bed, unmade for right now, and a wardrobe and chest of drawers sit. A doorway to the right leads to a bathroom, still steamy from the hyper-fast shower, and a substantial kitchenette (four burner stove, freezer/refrigerator, dishwasher) is to the left - way more than one guy would need.

There is also a large door in the back wall, partially hidden by a bookcase.

Quinn's wave continues through the introduction, hands falling to her side afterwards. "Pleasure t' meet you," she responds in kind. Whistling a tune, one only she would know, she follows after the others, pausing as they step into the garage - both because of the immediately cooler state of the garage (25C was still pretty hot to her), and the just immense amount of interesting stuff held within. Not exactly her thing, but impressive none the less. "This is a 'ell of a place you've got here," she muses as she follows in, hands propped up behind her heads and elbows out, posture relaxed as she walks. At Tasha's question, she smirks. "Seems t' be more of us than you folks who're all born here lately," she teases with a chuckle.

Her eyes narrow once they step into the basement proper, arms falling back to her side as she looks around with a quirked eyebrow. "Huh. Do you live here too?" she inquires, turning on her heel to aid in taking in the entire room.

Immediately on entering, Jaiden is aware of what the girls are doing, even if not all of them are. Colette had played the initial role of the trio's face, but the moment she stepped inside she'd been staggering her pace back away from the others, letting them talk and divide Jaiden's attention while she takes the guided tour. The teen's hands tuck into the pockets of her cargo pants, brows lifted as she observes the change in environment from the bay area to the first level of the basement doubling as a living space. It reminds her of Melissa' Pierce's old safe-house on Staten Island, after a fashion.

Noticably, for a girl with lacking depth perception from being blind in one eye, Colette seems preternaturally aware of her surroundings, keen on obscatles that should be out of her limited peripheral vision. This, among the other small scraps of intelligence Jaiden is able to discern with his military background, makes it clear that the three young women were chosen for a reason; they can be easily underestimated by untrained eyes.

"Oh, no, I'm originally from Iowa. I hit my head on an ear of corn driving a combine around and it just came out Australian. Damndest thing, that. If you believe that line of bull, let me tell you all about this miracle cure I got from a girl just down the way." Jaiden chuckles, clicking the AC down to a cool 23C with the thermostat on the wall, turning on one of the closer lamps. "I do live here. Took me a couple of years to get it set up right proper, but in this city, living with no rent is a godsend. Makes it easy to get to work on time too. Shower and poof, up the stairs to work."

Jaiden is being conversational. Polite - almost obviously so, each movement deliberate and large, telegraphing them to trained eyes, putting up a metaphorical white flag that lets people know that he's not dangerous and isn't planning anything violent or frightening - the same way he deals with the people he hides, in fact. He leans against the back of the sofa, his hands on either side of his hips, no-where near anything that could be considered a weapon, and looks at each woman cooly. "So….Eileen and Raith thought I was worth takin' a look at, then?" A bit of information. A dropped name, to see if that ruffles any feathers.

"Something like that," Tasha says, glancing at Colette, then back to Jaiden. "I think we can all agree your skills are useful, and this isn't a bad place for people to hide if we have need of it. We're here to talk about just what it means to help our group out, and if you're willing to take the risks or not. Obviously, if you're not, we just ask you don't pass on any information we share with you — but since you're at this point, it means we trust you enough to trust you not to do that."

She moves to take a seat. "It's not something you do if you're afraid of getting hurt. Colette's been shot and worse just this year alone, and we've had people go missing. It's not something to enter into lightly, so we just want to make sure that you're serious about it."

"How remarkably convenient," Quinn replies in a rather relaxed tone, nodding at Jaiden. "I wish I could have it that easy…" She trails off a bit as Tasha begins her line of questioning, meandering about the room in a fashion similar to Colette - though she moves like the other girl's polar opposite, almost tripping over one thing, the only motion which breaks her relaxed pace and stride. Despite this, however, she is attentive, constantly glancing over to Tasha ad Jaiden as they talk.

"The stakes never used to be this high," is the addendum from Colette as she slowly catches up to the other three, her heels scuffing across the floor as she walks. "We're actually here to sort've wrap a bow on this. The idea behind the meeting is that you get t'meet some of the people you'd be workin' with, and we tell you a bit about what the Ferry does… and sort've see if you're interested."

On a meandering path towards the couch, Colette looks up to the fluorescent lights set in the ceiling, then down and over to Jaiden. "The last year's been hard to the organization. When I joined, it was mostly deliveries and message courier work that I did. People like Humanis First upped the stakes and the escalation has just kept on goin' ever since."

Moving to sit down on the arm of the sifa, Colette folds one leg beneath herself as she does, the other booted foot balancing her weight, resting flat on the floor. "Some of our fringe associates ain't in harm's way most of the time, but if you want all in… you should be warned that it might come with bullets." Sliding her tongue over her lips, Colette looks down to her lap and furrows dark brows together.

"There's… more, but I really can't explain that until I know for sure how deep you're willing to get in. Primarily, the Ferrymen does what it sounds like the name means. We move people from one place to another, get 'em out of the country if that's what they want, or help 'em hole up somewhere otherwise. Sometimes the people we hide wanna' work with us, an' that's cool. But…"

Wrinkling her nose, Colette lifts one hand to rake back her bangs from her face, threading them behind one ear. "Sometimes things go bad, or just… worse. It ain't a safe job, it sure ain't legal either. But— you know— it makes me feel good doin' it."

"Well, this isn't the hiding place exactly….the hiding place is normally behind that door over there, hidden by that bookcase bolted to the wall. I moved it away so you could look to see how willing I am to help out." He stands and moves across the room, moving the bookcase away and opening the door behind, flicking on a switch to reveal the hiding place proper.

When the lights click on, the view of the hidden room is complete. Set up for an extended stay for several people, the back wall has two doors that open into small rooms, the right holding a second bathroom and small shower, the left unknown for now . Some wires come down and are hooked into a circuit breaker that powers the lights and the pump that draws water from a re-purposed well. Several cots are set up - about a half-dozen, unmade for now, but with pillows and blankets stacked on a nearby shelf all covered in plastic. Another set of shelves near the entrance are stacked with canned and dried food, MRE's, bandages and medicines and the like all in neatly labeled bins.

"My motto is Be Polite, Be Prepared, and Always Have a Plan." Jaiden says softly, looking to the trio from the doorway. "When I moved here after the bomb, I looked back at my time traveling the world. I looked back at what could have been useful in those villages and towns and…well…stocked up." He shrugs slightly, moving away from the door to let the curious peer inside. "It's pretty much invisible from outside. Windows are bricked up, and there's wire around the entire room to block radio signals from getting in or out. As far as anyone knows, it's just been walled off, and with the bookcase there, it's pretty easy to hide. Then when Linderman told the world that the Evolved were real…and all the shit started to go south for people with powers." He pauses. "Like me….I couldn't just sit back and do nothing. So I helped people. I've already hidden people - helped 'em get to Canada with a few bucks. I'd heard of the Ferrymen, but no-one ever came to find me an' I kind of was busy in my own world helping the kids who needed me." Jaiden takes a seat in the recliner, interlacing his fingers over his stomach, crossing one leg over the other. "I'm already in. It's just how much you want to use me. I've seen bad. I've been in worse. Legal ain't got nothin' to do about anything right now. There's right and wrong…and this is right."

Standing from her perch, Tasha follows to go peer into the annex of sorts, raising a brow as she takes in the cots and the food rations. "Pretty impressive," she says approvingly, looking up at the Aussie with a smirk before crossing her arms. "Isn't that the Boy Scout motto? Or is it Yoda's?" she quips, a little lighter-hearted than her speech of gloom and doom.

"Anyway, all in is good, and it's nice to have another place we could use as a safehouse, but if you've already hidden people here, it's possible that some of those people might have told other people and it might not be totally secret anymore. You trust anyone who's been here to keep it mum, right? I wouldn't think they'd tell, if they got helped by you, but… you know. They mighta told someone thinking it was safe, and the person they told might not be what they seem. People squeal and we get leaks, sometimes, so we gotta be careful."

Some of this is a bit more than even Quinn had heard yet - Colette having been shot, and the apparent frequentness of similar situations in particular. She had been told things would be dangerous, but such specifics were never named. Besides a grimace, she tries her best not to show this on her face, instead moving after Jaiden. "Yoda's is Do or Do Not, There Is No Try. Dunno about the boy scouts." Quinn shrugs as she walks up to the entrance to the "hidden" room. "Wow. Sounds like he's got a bit of a head start on us," she replies with a snicker back to Colette. Her head pokes in to get a better look at what's inside before she turns back to Colette. "Definitely a nice setup is someone has t' be stashed for a while." But that's more or less just reiterating the obvious at this point.

Noticing the look on Quinn's face, Colette offers the Irishwoman a momentary frown, then looks askance to the door to the concealed room with a squint. The pupil of Colette's good eye dilates saucer wide and turns her green iris into a thin sliver before narrowing back down again. "The setup you have here means we'd like to make this place into a safehouse. People in the network might be shipped here, no more than your capacity, but you'd also be privilidged to our stocks of supplies, which isn't an inconsiderate amount of necessary junk. Anything from electronics to food, clothing… within reason."

Looking down to her lap and folding her hands there, Colette grows quiet for a moment before looking back up to Jaiden. "Your safehouse would also get a code name, so that we don't refer to it by address or anything easily identifiable. Typically it's something simple and mundane that can be slipped into casual conversation. I dunno what you'd call this, but most've 'em have had something subtle and yet distinctive to people int he know to identify it. The Garden, Hangar, Brick House, Foxhole… just a few we've had."

From his seat in the recliner, Jaiden watches and listens, his thumbs drumming lightly on his stomach. "The last time this was used was during the big freeze - being underground kept it warm in here, and stacking hay bales over the windows helped a lot too. I haven't had anyone downstairs since the freeze. That back there is still quiet. Hidden. Even the people who crashed here during the ice storm weren't aware of that back there. As far as the people I helped?" He shrugs. "There were nine. I can give you first names, but that's about all I know about them. I don't even know what their powers were - just that they were evolved and needed out. I left them with instructions to not mention me or any part of this place, even to their closest friends. There's always the chance that one of 'em talked, but I did manage to get them here most of the time without them seeing where it was we were going and away under the cover of night. So they know someone in New York helped 'em, but as far as exactly where? Probably not."

"That sounds fine, Colette. I realize that I'm showing up like Santa on Christmas and just putting it out there, but….times change and I'm needed to help out."

"You don't need to give us their names, I don't think, but I'll let the bosses know you're willing. I mean, it's not very useful to have protected them if you out them to us, but thanks for offering," Tasha says, glancing over to give a supportive smile to Quinn, as well. They had only recently given her the danger chat, and not quite as direly as Tasha started with Jaiden.

"There's always the risk that anyone could talk, really. Ferry has to operate on an element of risk. They took a chance on me, for sure, and on others… the risk is usually worth the help we get in the end, so it balances out. But leaks and such, you know, we gotta be careful," Tasha continues, moving back to sit on the edge of the sofa. "We could call this the Garage — or the Basement? Maybe people will think we mean the Cellar. And if it gets out, they'll go raid that bar," she says, dark eyes sparkling with just a touch of mischief at her joke. "But more seriously — um, you said you're SLC positive?" Tasha asks, more diplomatically and PC with her wording. "What do you do? I mean, so we know how we can best use your talents."

Seeing the frown offered towards her, Quinn waves a hand dismissively at the other photokinetic, as if to say don't worry about it. Instead she turns back, peering again into the room. "Could probably keep a good number a' people here…" she muses, a hand to her chin. A foot taps in beat as she leans back against the door frame, a smirk forming on her face as Tasha poses the question ofJaiden being evolved. Finding out people's abilities - just like showing off her own - was always fun. Arms crossing, she gives a nod. "The Underground," Quinn notes to Tasha, remembering the name of a song - several songs, but one in particular comes to mind. "That'd make a good one."

"Basement, cellar, hell, why don't we just call it London, since it's got an underground portion to it." Jaiden looks thoughtful for a moment when the subject of his powers are mentioned, sitting up slightly, rubbing his hands together. "The best description I have for it is hydrokinetic. I do things with water, basically. I can pull it out of the air, direct it from hoses and puddles in streams, make barriers out of it…I can even do a damn fine impression of Jesus walking on the water if you let me concentrate. Observe."

Jaiden turns his right hand palm-side up and, after a moment, a globe of water, about the size of a baseball hovers just a bit over his palm, the air noticeably dryer. His hand drops and the water just hovers there, slowly drifting across the room towards Colette and Tasha, floating there a moment - long enough for them to touch, the surface almost rubbery, the surface tension magnified, giving it an unexpected weight and density, before going toward Quinn and then, finally, over to the sink where it splashes in. "You should see me by the ocean. Or in a rainstorm." He smiles and sits back.

Watching the hydrokinetic display, Colette's mismatched eyes go wide. She's never seen a water-manipulator in all her time with the Ferry, and watching one at work now has her lips parted and a child-like smile crossing her face. "That's— so awesome!" Snapping a look back to Jaiden, Colette excitedly sits up and claps her hands together, suddenly looking (and acting) much more her age and easily excitable. "We so can do some awesme refractory tricks together!"

Then, sheepishly, Colette furrows her brows and cracks an awkward smile. "I… kinda' like London, as a code-name I mean, s'tricky." Waving her hand in the air, she motions towards a bare portion of the concrete walls. As if to also be open in the way Jaiden is, Colette holds her hand steady and spreads her fingers, and on the wall in front of her hand a circular pattern of color begins to form,looking like finger-painted light smearing on the concrete. It starts with white, then red and blue and eventually turns into a London Underground logo used for their subway system.

When she looks away from the painted colors on the wall they sharpen and look identical to the normal London Underground logo, though Jaiden also notices the largeness of the pupil of her unblinded eye during the process. "Quinn does some similar stuff t'me. I bend light, shape it, reflect color, concentrate light… you name it." There's pride in her voice there, where two years ago there would have been derision.

"Tasha's the odd-duck-out," Colette teasingly adds with a fond smile, "but she's got like ninja skills with a paintbrush and one of them little cutty pen-knife things for making fake identifications n'stuff."

When the water floats in the air in front of her, Tasha does lift a hand to touch it, raising a brow and grinning as Colette bubbles with excitement. "Yeah, you two, no, you three," she nods to Quinn, "could do like water and light shows like the freakin' Bellagio."

"And it's an X-acto Knife," Tasha adds with a smirk. "I'm non-evolved, and an art student, is what she's trying to say. Hardly a ninja, but I'm I guess the paperwork girl of the group. If you need any fake documents, I'm your girl. Speaking of which, I just got non-evo registered yesterday so I can start making the fake documents for that." She wrinkles her nose, to let them all know just what she thinks about having had to register in the first place, but at least she can be useful as a result of her legal compliance.

Quinn's reaction to Jaiden's display of his power mirrors Colette's almost exactly - she's seen several display of abilities in the last few years, almost always kept on the down low, but little like that. Between that, and seeing another one of Colette's displays at her light bending proficiency, she feels momentarily inadequate.

After a moment, she smirks, raising a hand and waggling her fingers. "Yep! I do about the same thing as Colette!" she confirms. Fingers still and she holds her hand, watching as it begins to glow and brighten the room. "I'm not as good as Colette, but I got somethin' over her," she teases, winking at the other photokinetic. "But that's right cool. Must be wonderful on a day like t'day, with how feckin' how it is!" The light in the room - save for where Colette's Longdon Underground design sits - shifts to a bight green, this shift maintained for the moment.

"London's a good name. Looks about as good as the Underground too." She snickers, shrugging. "But either way, it looks all good for, you know. Our needs." As far as she know at least, the only safehouse she's ever knowingly seen is Gun Hill.

Pretty cool stuff going on in Jaiden's little basement this evening. The man looks over to the London Underground symbol. "Do me a favor, would you, love? " Love? Is he referring to Colette?" Change it to Oxford, but keep the logo. During World War II, during the blitz, it was one of the underground stations that sheltered people from the Nazi bombs. We can still call this place London, or the Underground, but having a little history tied in might be a good thing, now and again. As far as documentation….I don't want to register at all, and not exactly being a citizen just yet puts me in kind of a gray area. It probably would do good for me to register - at least for my papers, but the test…." There's a glum expression that is quickly wiped away. "I'd probably trip alarm bells halfway to Washington. IS there any way to register evo's as non-evolved and cheat the test?"

"Ygraine's gonna' get a kick out've this," Colette offers out of the corner of her mouth with a smile, but after only a few moments the entire color pattern on the wall — including Quinn's shift of the colors — fades away like water evaporating off of a hot sidewalk in odd splotches, starting at the high end of the color spectrum with the blues, and ending on the low end with the reds.

"My ability is only temporary, it only lasts as long as I concentrate. It's the difference between photokinesis and chromakinesis," she explains with a slant of her head to one side. "I've been tryin' t'study powers an' stuff every since I joined the Ferry and learned about my own. I had… a really good couple of teachers, and I wanna' be like them."

Sliding her feet down to the floor, Colette gets up and off of the arm of the couch and turns around, running fingers thorugh her hair to brush bangs behind one ear again. The entire love quip is either blithley missed or taken as a figure of speech. At least she's easy-going.

"As far as a way to cheat the test goes… we're lookin' into that. We've got the names of some sympathetic police officers, but nobody's been approached yet. It's not gonna' be easy, and it's a lot of risk for the cops doing the tests to sorta' fake or forgo or lose the blood tests. But we're workin' on it. If it'd be easier for you, we could probably have an entire new identity made. It wouldn't hold up to heavy scrutiny, but on a casual swipe by officers it might be helpful. We could also make it an American citizen too, t'help bridge that gap. Don't want you gettin' deported or nothin'."

"If you want an actual painting of that, I can probably make somethin' for you, if it makes it feel more homey, though yeah, it shouldn't be the actual name. If it said Oxford and such, but we call it the Underground, that's probably fine. I don't think anyone'd figure it out," Tasha says, watching the colors fade, and glancing up at Colette behind the couch.

"I can make you a fake non-Evo card that goes with your real name or one with a fake name, plus the fake other docs, or a fake Evolved one, too, whatever works. Just don't wanna carry more than one at a time." She glances at the other two women with her, before her dark eyes go back to Jaiden. "So obviously you're in and the Underground's a go. I'd say it's a successful little meeting. Any questions of us? Not that we might be able to answer everything. Quinn and me are pretty new."

"Are all the women of the Ferry as good looking as you three?" There goes Jaiden's charm again. "No…no questions. Thank you all for coming and I hope that I can be as big a help as you think I can be." Thn, to Tasha, he nods. "we'll talk about that later, yeah?"

Quinn can help but laugh, shaking her head. "See, it may be kinda fruitless, but I wish people asked questions like that when talkin' all serious. It lightens mood somethin' nice." She glances over to Tasha, smirking. "If you don't already have a reference, you can use my registration card," she notes, before turning back to Jaiden. Pushing away from the door frame, she walks towards the others. "Sounds good t' me. All a' it."

Cracking a smile, Colette looks around and in a moment of preposterous confidence answers, "Nope," with a flash of a toothy smile and her hands tucked into the back pockets of her cargo pants. "This, actually went a whole lot smoother than I thought. So, like, I— I guess… barring anything retarded happening, you should be all set. Someone will be by to probably check up on the place and make sure it's up to security standards, but I really think it'll be good…"

Brushing back her bangs again, this time with just a flick of her head to one side, the dark-haired teen cracks Jaiden a smile and looks around the safehouse. She seems at a loss for words at first, not out of not having anything to say, but feeling almost overwhelmed by the fact that she has somehow managed a relatively significant level of the network in her year tenure with them. There's a smile then, at that, and Colette looks back up to Jaiden with the best thing she can offer.

"Welcome to the Ferrymen, Jaiden."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License