colette_icon.gif nelly_icon.gif quinn2_icon.gif rourke_icon.gif warren_icon.gif

Scene Title N
Synopsis While the Ferrymen gather strength to weather the coming storm, a new arrival to the network from its fringes offers hope.
Date November 2, 2010

Grand Central Terminal

"I ain't never seen somebody fix up a bloody radio s'fast as you man. You want another on'a them beers?"

It isn't quite business as usual in Grand Central Station. Well after the curfew hour when the streets of New York have gone quiet and the city that never sleeps drowsily lays its head down, the underground is teeming with activity. Grand Central Station is one of the Ferrymen's most well-kept secrets, which makes the importance of those who know about its location paramount, as well as minimizing just how many of those people there are.

Occupying the rail station that was once Grand Central Terminal, a hundred feet or more beneath the ruins of Midtown Manhattan, it now serves as a supply hub for the Ferrymen network, a labyrinthine network of collapsed tunnels, maintenance access hatches and sewer draining pipes that snake through the island of Manhattan like arteries.

For Warren Ray, it's only his second time down here. Grand Central is somewhere of strategic importance to him, as least as of late. Signal jammers used by the Ferrymen to block incoming and outgoing cell phone traffic to the safehouse that he'd seen during preparation for the spring floods sparked imagination. Imagination sparked innovation, and then a broken alarm-clock radio kind've distracted him.

Seated around a workbench flanked by humming diesel generators, their exhausts piped out through dryer hose far beyond the tunnels, Andy Rourke leans over Warren's shoulder with a surprised look on his face. "'At fuckin'r adio's been bum busted since, fuck, two years goin' now? You fixed it with what— that was m'gum wrapper some duct-tape an' the shit inside a lightbulb? Man, a'gots t'get you t'look at my truck sometime. Engine knocks like an ol' lady's knees." Thick British accent declaring his nationality loudly, Andy runs one hand over his shaved head with a laugh, slapping his hand afterward on Warren's back.

"What was it you wanted t'talk t'me 'bout anyways?"

Not far away from where Warren and Andy are conversing, security at the south tunnel entrance into grand central is screening a new arrival. Amidst the dim, flickering light of oil lanterns and generator-powered construction lamps, a woman in a dark, hooded sweatshirt with a handkerchief mask covering her face has her arms out to her side, being patted down by one of the tunnel guards while a second — a boy no older than nineteen — watches on from behind sandbags with his hand on a holstered pistol.

"She clears," is the frisking guard's assessment, stepping away and looking back to the younger girl waiting just beyond the sandbags for the woman she'd been guiding here from street-level. Colette Nichols only knows Nelly Leeson tangentally due to her job as a courier for the Ferrymen. But when word got passed down that the Council wanted to pull her more deeply into the network's supply and shipping affairs with the impending crisis of November 8th looming, Colette was the one offered the task of bringing her down to where business happens and making the pitch.

Having met Nelly on the edge of Midtown, the two trekked in relative silence the half an hour walk down below the city's streets. "You don't have t'have that on now…" Colette offers with a furrow of her brows, crossing her arms over her chest and angling her head to the side as she considers the older brunette. "I mean— s'fine if you want to, but like…" Mismatched eyes look down to the rail tracks beneath her feet, then back up to Nelly. "We ain't gonna' snitch down here," she adds with a crooked smile, offering out a leather-gloved hand. "Name's Colette, by the way. Don't think we've ever been properly introduced or nothin'."

Warren, wearing his black suit while straightening his tie after the fixing of the radio, brushes his white leather gloves off and sits up straight in his chair. "I came here for two reasons. The first, is that you should absolutely not let anyone in numbered biker helmets enter here, though I doubt the Locos will return to the tunnels, it's for your own safety if you know that they are dangerous now. I don't know if I made some sort of deal involving them, but I do know I helped with the flooding. I had my mind altered a bit, so, in a nutshell, I'm sane and trying to stop my crazy gang now."

That bit of awkwardness out of the way, he motions his hands out, motioning to the entire room. "I remember seeing radio jammers here before. I'd like to work on them, to protect this underground base from the November 8th signal."

Quinn doesn't often come down to GCT, even since Colette had first brought her down here a month ago — it was only her third trip, to tell the truth. But tonight, she had made her way down to see if there way anything in particular she could help with, maybe make a supply run as needed. But for the most part, she just ended up wondering the grounds, pausing to look at the fish she had painted a few weeks ago.

Hearing Colette's voice, Quinn perks up from where she's crouched, a glance offered over towards the entrance to the Terminal, a surprised look o her face. Rising to her feet, she starts over, waving as she goes. "Fancy seein' you here!" she calls out as she approaches, grinning at Colette and her new arrival. "Gotta new friend with you t'day?"

A quiet sigh escapes her as she steps past the security check and makes her way past the sandbags, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her sweater as she steps closer to Colette. "I know I don't /have/ to, but it makes me feel a hell of a lot better if I do." She tilts her head down to glance at that hand as it's offered, hesitating a moment before withdrawing her own similarly gloved hand from her pocket to take the younger girls. "Uh, you can call me 'N' I guess. Nice to meet'cha and all that." A quick shake is given before her hand is drawn back and returned to her pocket.

"By the way, If it makes you feel any better, I'm not worried about any of you snitching /voluntarily/." She gives a slight nod of her head at that before glancing about, particularly in the direction of unfamiliar voices, shifting her attention back to Colette after a moment. "So, what did you all drag me down here for this time anyways?" As Quinn approaches she shifts a bit, giving a slight nod in greeting.

Not far from the entrance, up a short flight of steps on the landing platform where just four years ago people in transit would have waited for their arriving subway train, Andy and Warren continue their conversation. "Only reason you're down here is because Joe says you're good, but if the Pastor didn't want nobody down here, they'd be out've bloody luck. So, your gang?" One brow raises slowly, "They's good as fuckin' blackballed, since they ain't exactly helpful. But I'll pass on word'a your warning t'people what know the business. Sure's fuck dont trust me none with any've this security business…" That much sounds resentful.

The resentment only grows as Andy's dark eyes sweep over to where Colette is leading in Nelly. "Ey! Nichols, th' fuck is that?" Andy's voice calls out sharply from the landing as he lifts up one hand to Warren with a finger raised to indicate one moment and then turns back to Colette, Quinn and Nelly. "D'you check 'er out with Sumter first? Swear t'god you invite some dumb friend down 'ere I'll smack your head clear off your shoulders."

Colette's attention is stolen away from both Quinn and Nelly as she shoots a glare up to Andy, dark brows furrowed. Lifting one hand, Colette pops up her middle finger in response, then rests both gloved hands on her hips looking towards the redhead on her way over. "Quinn, this here's… uh— N. I guess?" One brow lifts as Colette's half-blind stare squares on Nelly.

"Ennie," and already Colette's given her a nickname, "here's one've our peripheral supply runners. Scott wants me t'bring her in as a full on courier, she's got a pretty awesome thing she does." Colette's mismatched eyes look back to Nelly. "This here's Quinn, she does light courier work for us. Good people, too." There's a hesitant smile at that, before Colette shoots Quinn a teasing look. "Largely a slacker," she adds, "though we cut her some slack."

While Quinn and Colette acquaint themselves with Nelly, Andy offers a shake of his head and a sigh to Warren. "Th' fuck're you talking about with our jammers? Man I can't just let you in t'fuck about with them without clearing it with the Operator. I can let 'em know what you wanna' do, but Joe'd have my balls between bible pages if I just up an' let you help out. Not that I think his ideas'f runnin' stuff's a good way."

Warren suddenly stands up when he hears Colette's skepticism, then begins to remove his left glove. "We only have until the 8th to modify the jammers, I don't have time for beaurocracy. This is one of those times where you have to make a decision that could possibly save all of you. I'll give you a day to decide, but…" He removes the glove completely, stuffing it into his pocket to pull his sleeve up as well, revealing his bronzed clockwork robotic hand, opening and closing the fingers. Anyone close could see the thousands of gears moving inbetween the little cracks in the thin armor. "I can assure you, I know what I'm doing."

"N?" Quinn replies with a quirked eyebrow. "I- feel like I sudden walked on t' a James Bond movie or something. Ooh! Who's our Q? I mean, I could be but I suck at building anything." She's clearly teasing, shaking her head at Nelly. "Sorry, couldn't resist m'self. Robyn Quinn, pleasure t' meet you." Quinn extends a hand out to Nelly, smiling as she looks over to Colette.

"Slacker?! …okay, maybe a bit. But I try an' do what I can around here." Quinn gives a bit of a shrug, her smile turning into a grin. "Besides, if everyone down here was workin' a sweat all the time, it'd be just dreadful down here. Someone has t' slack t' keep tinkgs fun an' interestin'. Who else would Andy get t' yell at?" A glance is offered over to Warren, and a frown forming on her face. She's spent a lot of time not thinking about the 8th, and his mentioning of it is helping to bring that looming date back to the front of her mind.

Nelly doesn't look as if she's entirely happy being referred to as a 'dumb friend' , sharing a glare of her own with Andy, but Colette's response seems to be enough for her or maybe she is simply distracted by this sudden new nickname. "Ennie?" She mumbles as she gives a slight shake of her head, but makes no real protest. 'N' wasn't exactly a mindblowing alias anyways. Quinn's hand is taken as it's offered and given a quick shake, "Yeah, nice to meet'cha too." She murmurs a bit distractedly as she looks back towards Colette.

"Y'know, you really should coordinate more when trying to recruit people. You have someone up there /right now/ talking about how he's trying to save you all from what I can only assume is some horrible fate at the same time you're asking me to join up full time? Jeez." She brings one hand up to rub her forehead for a moment before exhaling another sigh. "Alright well, I'm down here, I might as well hear out whatever you got to say. Why do you all need me full time all of a sudden?"

"'Cause'f some horrible fate," Colette offers with a narrow-eyed look up to Andy, right up until she realizes that the mechanical bits on Warren's arm aren't some kind of weird sleeve. There's a look of abject confusion that crosses her face for just a moment, lips parted and brows lifting. A breath is huffed out and Colette looks like she may gape for the entire time, until Andy takes a hold of Warren's arm and lowers it down, stepping between he and Colette up on the landing, speaking in hissing tones to the machinist.

"Quit makin' a scene," Andy grouses, looking over his shoulder to Colette before snapping his attention back to Warren. "Are you sure 'bout this signal shit? I ain't got no time t'be fuckin' around. But Joe ain't here right now an' the Milburn twins ain't either, which means ol' Andy's in the saddle. Time t'get some shit done, son."

Nodding away from where the girls are talking, Andy looks over Warren's shoulder. "Signal jammers are in the storage area in back, we ain't got 'em hooked up right now. Only run 'em when there's a warning going through the network, fuckers eat a lot of juice, y'know?"

When Andy corrals Warren and seems to distract from the display of seemingly impossible machine aptitude in that prosthetic arm, Colette looks back to Nelly, realizing she'd left her hanging. "Oh— ah, it's…" Dark brows furrowing, Colette shoots a look over to Quinn, then back to Nelly. "C'mon," she murmurs, nodding further down the tracks, turning to start to walk.

"That shit that happened back in May, stuff that's still all over the news, the mass hallucination stuff?" One of Colette's dark brows lifts as her tone shifts, suddenly far less jovial than before. "S'mostly true. We think— we know it was a vision of things that haven't happened yet. We're in a bad spot, and when— if— the riots happen like some'v us saw? We're gonna need more hands on deck, basically."

Offering a hopeful look to Quinn to chime in whenever, Colette turns her mismatched eyes back to Nelly with a sigh. "We're short on supply runners," she explains with a curl of fingers around an errant lock of dark hair, brushing it from her face to tuck behind one ear. "Scott tells me you've got a really unique ability, one we don't really have at our disposal. I know— he told me you didn't want to be all-in, but Enny…" Colette offers a slow shake of her head.

"We could really use the help. It's life or death or I wouldn't ask. We need people who can run medical supplies like," she snaps her fingers, "that. You can do that for us, heck— you could get the injured out if things get as bad as we've heard. M'sorry t'put it all on you like this. But— desperate times, an' all that."

"This is vitally important. The city's already going to be covered in jammers, but down here, there's no guarantee that the signal will be blocked by the ones I have up there. So it's best if I modify these. I can amplify the signal a bit, probably make them more power efficient." Warren then gestures to the generators, and pulls his glove back on the hand. "And I know I can raise the efficiency of these generators, if you'll let me."

"She's not kiddin'," Quinn adds, that frown still on her face. "I've been… well, there's sites an' all about it on the internet, tryin' t' put t'gether what people saw. It's not the best resource, an' there's contradictions about them, but they all pretty much say the same thing." She lets out a bit of a sigh, shaking her head. "They all pretty much say we're fucked if we don't start doin' somethin' about it. So, if you can help, it'd be greatly appreciated." Which, from teh sound of it, the guy talking to Andy is trying to do, a sidelong glance given back in his direction.

"I know that's not the best sales pitch, but it's the truth," Quinn adds after a moment's thought. A look is given over to Colette, then back to Nelly. "I dunno what it is you can do, but if Colette thinks you'll be a big help, chances are we really need you."

Nelly hesitates for a moment after Colette begins to move further down the tracks, looking back up towards Warren and Andy for a few moments before turning to follow after the girl. She lowers her gaze to the floor as she follows, listening silently as Colette and Quinn plead their case. After Quinn's last comment she simply answers, "I'm good at moving things." She then takes a few steps ahead of the two before turning to face them, looking first to Quinn and then to Colette. "I really didn't want this y'know? There's a reason I wear this stupid getup."

Her eyes close as she lifts one hand, nudging her glasses up and rubbing the bridge of her nose briefly. "Still, if this really is all life and death like you say I can't just turn my back on everyone, s'not what I do." Nelly settles her glasses into place before holding up two fingers in peace sign style. "Two conditions though. One: I'm yours whenever and for how long you need me, but whenever it is that this thing gets all sorted out, however far that is down the line I get to go back to our previous arrangement if I want to." She nods firmly at that before focusing solely on Colette. "And two, you stop calling me Enny."

Cracking a smile, despite herself, Colette pauses halfway down the tracks to look back at Nelly. "If the whole world ain't on fire after November 8th, you're free t'do whatever it is you need. But for the time being, we could really use the assist. Since you're going to be lending the extra weight, there's somet stuff you're going to need t'know, places… that sort'a thing. I'll go over it all with you in a little bit, safehouse locations, supply drops. Mostly you're going to be moving things out of here to places we need. If things go sideways though, we might ask you to go topside to move some people."

Lifting up a hand to scratch the back of her neck, Colette looks over to Quinn with a thoughtful smile, then back to Nelly. "Most of it's going to be headed to Staten Island, though. We've got a safehouse out there in the Greenbelt that's likely going to become a triage center if things get out of control. Medical supplies and the like are gonna' be in high demand." For a girl who only just a few days ago turned nineteen Colette Nichols has had a lot of growing up she's had to do since joining the Ferrymen.

"Quinn an' I are both photokinetics, s'kind've a fancy term for people who bend light. Not really necessary that you know, but I figure since you kinda' have t'be open about your power with what you do, it's nice t'have other people open around you." Trying to break the ice of someone worried about their association with the Ferry becoming public can always be difficult.

In trying times especially.

As Colette, Nelly and Quinn head further down the tracks, Andy offers an askance look to Warren. "You get even one'f these generators runnin on better capacity an' ol' Harkness will personally kiss both your ass-cheeks, mate." Andy slaps a hand down on Warren's shoulder, then looks down to the mechanical hand with one brow raised. "You might be all Halloween an' H.G. Wells, but you ain't as bad as a'heard. Guess you got your noggin sorted out right bloody good then."

Directing Warren back towards the door to the storage room, there's a crooked smile on the Brit's lips. "An' a;wasn't jokin' 'bout m'truck either. Runs like shit."

Quinn nods in response to Colette's remark no their ability, flicking her wrist as light coalesces together into a small globe, which is then flicked in Nelly's direction. "Movin' things an' people is probably going t' be one of the most useful things come the eighth, yeah." Tapping a finger on her cheek, Quinn gives a bit of a nod. "If you're worried about things, like… being dangerous an' all… I dunno. Things are going t' get dangerous anyway from the looks of it. Might as well help people out, right? An' if it doesn't, it's not like teh Ferry comes knockin' on your door tryin' t' sell cookies every week or anythin'. I'm pretty sure anyone I know who isn't Ferry would be hard pressed t' figure out what it is I do when I'm not recording."

Hands slipping into the pockets of her jeans, Quinn gives another short shrug. "If you don't want t' go around an' about all day usin' your ability, we can make some visits t' places you might have t' go on my scooter. I know it helps t' be open, but not everyone's like me - not everyone likes showin' off what theyc an do."

Nelly sighs. Yeah, she seems to do that a lot. "Great, even more stuff to memorize. Like I don't have a hard enough time remembering what I already know." She mumbles as she stares down at the tracks, pacing slowly in a small circle, seemingly complaining more to herself than the others. She stills herself as Colette makes mention of the pairs powers and though her face isn't readily visible, it's obvious by her posture and the way she tenses that something about that comment disturbs her. She relaxes after just a brief moment however, looking back up to the pair and muttering a quiet, "Fuck it.", before bringing her hands up to push her hood back with one and tug the cloth over her face down with the other. "If I'm gonna be workin' closely with all of you and you're gonna share with me I guess I should return the favor."

She smirks as she looks to Quinn, giving a shake of her head. "I don't like showing off, but I'm not really all that hesitant to use my ability either." And with that said *BAMF!*. Okay, well there's not really any sound, but everyone knows that would be awesome. Quinn might find herself just slightly disoriented as she finds herself beside Nelly, rather than Colette, who promptly rests an arm over her shoulder to use as a leaning post. "I might have to take you up on that scooter offer though. Unfortunately, it's not so nifty for moving me around."

"Woah!" Colette yelps as she leaps back with eyes wide, "Holy— you— you didn't even have to touch her!" There's definite awe in Colette's voice. The only teleporter she's ever known — Kris Bender — requires physical contact to take people with him, and also sort've catches on fire if he does it too much. This, though, this is something else.

"Holy— shit that is like— that is the coolest damned thing I have ever seen." Smiling toothily, Colette exhales a bubble of laughter with one hand lifting to cover her mouth. If the teleportation weren't enough to distract her, N's unmasking does the rest. One dark brow lifts when Colette finally gets a good look at her, followed by a sheepish smile and an awkward laugh.

"Yeah— so— ah," clearing her throat Colette lifts one hand to rake back her choppy bangs from her face. "The ah— the thing. It— it's a pretty long distance from here to the Garden, but I can give you the tour sometime this week, or somebody else c— " a buzzing noise chimes in Colette's back pocket, eliciting the teen's reaction of reaching behind herself to tuck her cell phone out of her pocket.

"Christ," Colette exhales sharply, "I gotta' take this, it's Lynette. Probably about the meeting on Thursday." Clicking a button on the phone, Colette lifts up one hand to dissuade conversation as she turns away from Nelly and Quinn.

"Lyn? Yeah, it's me. I'm— Yeah I have time." She really doesn't. But then, at this very moment, nobody has a lot of time left.

Quinn is similarly surprised as her field of view suddenly jumps, the Irishwoman clumsily stumbling forward as she tries to catch up with her disorientation and her own steps. "Holy feckin' shit what just-" Straightening herself, she spins back and looks at the others, eyes narrowing. "Oh. I get it. I- Christ, that is a trip. Handy feckin' trick, though. But you… can't move yourself? That's… complicated."

Quinn reaches up, scratching the back of her head before she looks back at Colette. "The Garden's a pain in the ass, but I can take her around Gun Hill an' some others, at least. Not like I have anythin' else t' do either, and I can drop a few things off too."

Nelly looks momentarily surprised by the reaction to her ability and stifles a laugh as she looks between the two. "Well uh, thanks for the compliment I guess." At Quinn's latter comment to her she nods. "Yeah, trust me, I know. And uh, sorry if I freaked you out there or anything." She flashes a slight, apologetic smile before stuffing her hands into her pockets. "Anytime you all want to start showing me around is fine with me, I'm sure there's plenty to start remembering and from the sounds of it we don't got all that much time for me to learn it."

Colette walks away, on the phone with Lynette, head ducked down and booted feet scuffing along the rail tracks. While she leaves the new arrival and Quinn to collect themselves and become acquainted, she knows that recruiting someone actively into the Ferrymen on the eve of something as disastrous as November 8th could prove to be a deal-breaker in the aftermath.

If even one life is saved by thrusting Nelly Leeson into the proverbial mouth of the lion, it's a risk Colette is willing to take. And if, in the long run, she chooses to stick by the network through thick and through thin…

Then that's not half bad.

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