The Girl Ain't Dumb


cat_icon.gif doyle_icon.gif ygraine_icon.gif

Scene Title The Girl Ain't Dumb
Synopsis Ygraine seeks, and receives, counsel.
Date July 11, 2010

Gun Hill, Office

The afternoon of another hot and near-airless day has Ygraine glad to scurry within the shelter offered by the Gun Hill building, leaving her now-silent bike to cool on the shady side of the street outside. Pausing to revel in the lack of direct sun for a few moments, she sighs quietly, and strides further into the building, in search of the supervisor's office.

The door to the super's office is open this afternoon, a box fan set near the door itself thrumming away to keep the office cool. Inside the office, Eric Doyle is perched in his chair, one thick arm on the desk's edge and his fingers paging through some rental records for the month - a pen in his hand, he occasionally makes a little check mark, studiously going through the records to make certain nothing's been missed. One of the dogs is under the desk, panting softly in the breeze and occasionally chewing on Doyle's shoe.

The office contains more than Eric Doyle. Seated in a corner opposite the desk is a brunette with her umbrella folded up and propped against the wall. Cat looks calm enough, clad in Yale t-shirt and shorts with athletic shoes to protect feet. It's 15:00 or so, and though curious what the topic of this meeting session is she's hoping to make it home before the match between Holland and Spain is over.

Fortunately there's the secret place elsewhere in the Bronx which serves as a spare residence as well as headquarters. She won't need to go all the way back to Greenwich Village.

There's a cheerful-sounding knock on the wall, as Ygraine comes to a halt outside the office, quirking a smile and raising a hand in greeting. "Hello, Jason", she says warmly - before blinking at the extra person in the room. "Ooh, hello. Long time no babble at."

"Hey, uh— Ygraine, right?" A quick smile on Doyle's lips as he straightens up, "You can, um, you can call me Eric when there's nobody else around, it's just— you know how it goes, I've got warrants, and all that…" A waffling of his hand as he shrugs, "Can you, uh— close the door? I don't have the sort of authority for this sort of thing, so I called, um, Miss Chesterfield here."

"Cat will do," she offers to Eric, before turning to the Briton. "It's been some time, true enough." Her demeanor isn't unpleasant, though there is the impression of desiring to be about business in short order. Silence is returned to, providing Ygraine the floor to make her pitch once the door is secured.

Ygraine slips inside, closing the door behind her, before shrugging out of her heavy jacket, and resting her back against the cool of the wall. "Eric, hmm? I'll remember that", she says with a smile to the supervisor. "And… hrmm. I wanted to ask how one might go about getting someone considered as a potential recruit for the Ferry. Not that I'm not at all sure she's not already under consideration, admittedly."

"One've the girls in the building, or…?" Eric's brows lift a bit as he leans back, flipping the cover of the manilla folder he was working out of over, looking between the two curiously. The dog, meanwhile, chews on his shoe some more. He tolerates this.

"What's her name?" Cat asks on turning toward the woman from across the Pond. "Does she know about the Ferry already to some degree, and if so how much? We'll probably want to make some inquiries into her past."

Ygraine nods to Doyle, then chuckles at Cat. "Yes, and so far as I know, no. Her name's Robyn Quinn. She was invited to move in here by Colette, who has been providing her with some training for her Evolved ability… but hasn't, so far as I know, broached the Ferry with her at all."

Doyle's chin bobs in a nod, clearly unsurprised by the name put forward. "I think everyone else in her band's already in the Ferry," he admits - and explains - with a gesture of one hand towards the ceiling, "If she isn't brought in, she'll find out by accident sooner or later."

The Puppeteer from Moab is glanced at briefly, something seeming to catch Cat's attention and perhaps strike a chord. "Her band?" Whatever details on Robyn Quinn, or the lack thereof, seen when she looked over documentation in the files after Lynette was snagged aren't spoken about. "How much do you know about Miss Quinn?"

Ygraine pauses a moment, gaze flickering from Doyle to Cat and back again, then wobbles a hand. "A moderate amount. She is Registered, having wanted to be able to use her photokinesis in light shows - as part of her DJing work - without worrying about being arrested. She has spoken admiringly of people who strive to help others, and has said that she would like to do so herself. She was not brought here to be kept an eye on by the Ferry, nor for her own protection. She knows that Colette is an unregistered Evolved, and that Magnes runs off to do dangerous and probably-illegal things - and has not taken steps to turn either in."

The Briton shrugs expansively. "She's twenty five, has kept her head above water through her own efforts for years, is a musician and DJ - but till recently primarily made her living working in a book shop - and she appears to be trustworthy."

"Yeah, ah, Magnes, Sable, Quinn— uh, I'm not sure if Colette plays," Doyle admits, scratching at his beard thoughtfully, "She seems pretty cool with everyone, like Ygraine says. She probably suspects some stuff already, honestly, she's not dumb."

Eyes shift from one person to the other as they speak, Cat nodding at points made and seeming most interested when Robyn Quinn's associates are mentioned. Magnes. Oh, boy. "I think it works to start drawing her in bit by bit, while some inquiries are made. Is she a native New Yorker?" The mind also plots to conjure up some piece of false information and see if the Institute learns of it. Or anyone else. Maybe there are spies inside the network, maybe not. In either case, nothing says they won't try to plant more.

"Born in Ireland, moved to Boston… about thirteen years ago, if I remember right," Ygraine says, narrowing her eyes as she thinks. "Been in New York for a few years now. Hasn't done a lot to develop her ability under her own steam, but both myself and Colette are pushing her to explore a few ideas now. She seems to have been almost entirely focused upon her music since moving here, to be honest. She presently works for Melissa at Tartarus, should there be any… concerns about an association there."

"Oh, yeah, didn't the band do a set there a couple weeks ago?" Eric's brows lift a bit, and he shrugs one shoulder, "She seems pretty cool. Doesn't flinch at strangeness, doesn't push either that I've seen - although she obviously can tell something's going on. Like I said, the girl ain't dumb."

"I think it'll go well," Cat opines, "things that need to be done are basically formalities, steps to ensure bases are covered and not let others in the network have surprises. I'll make a point of running into her soon too, without her knowing anything about it."

Ygraine nods happily, clearly pleased, then takes a deep breath. "I've… also got a query about myself, as it happens. I've rather unexpectedly been offered a fairly highly-paid job. Running a bar. But I don't want to leave the Ferry in the lurch by removing a courier who knows the routes…."

"She lives in the building, so it shouldn't be hard," Eric admits with a nod over to Cat, then he looks back to Ygraine, brows raising, "A bar?"

Silent now, Cat seemingly doesn't have anything to add or query about for the moment, finding Eric's question suffices to address curiosities about that potential employer.

Another nod. "Ah, yes", the Briton says. "Biddy Flanagan's. Now a sports bar. The owner, who calls himself Adam, seems… impressed by my credentials. I have the impression that a former competitor in charge would be part of the appeal of the place - I'd be one of fittings, so to speak. Proof that it takes its role seriously."

"Monroe." The word's a flat growl from deep in Eric's throat, his hand slamming down on the desk as he fixes Ygraine with a sharp look, "Don't even think about it. You might as well be signing your name on a contract with your soul, Ygraine. Anything that bastard touches is fucking poison."

"Adam Monroe," Cat begins with some distaste in her voice, "is perhaps four hundred years old. His SLC ability is regeneration. Injure him, and it repairs quickly. It seems to also guard his DNA against the effects of aging. The body remains at the fullest potential of the genetic code. He has a rather interesting history. He was one of thirteen Company founders, they locked him up in the late seventies and kept him there for thirty years until his escape after he attempted to release a thing called the Shanti virus." This moment is chosen to pause, letting that particular datum sink in and be remembered.

"There are also indications he was once a member of the Vanguard. In the time since his escape, late in '08, he's pursued a vendetta against other Company founders, and performed some work with one of them. Arthur Petrelli. But he also turned against Pinehearst, wanted to join our action against it. We told him to get lost, so he staged his own action. That's how Refrain hit the streets. He stole it, and sold it to Triads." There's another pause here, Cat's eyes resting on Ygraine for the duration with an element of plotting visible in them.

"I would strongly caution you not have anything to do with Adam Monroe. He is a very dangerous man. But… You're a grown woman, such choices are yours to make. If you choose to disregard that device, I would be very interested in anything and everything learnable about his affairs."

Ygraine looks thoroughly surprised by Doyle's response, mouth opening for a moment even before Cat provides somewhat more detail. A few moments pass before she manages to find her voice again. "That… sounds interesting", she ventures cautiously, opting for the stereotypical understatement of her nation.

"If…." She swallows. "If keeping an eye on one of his investments would be worthwhile, then it's surely not going to be any more… dangerous than some of what I've done in the past. As for his affairs - he said that he wanted someone to look after things while he took a trip. And he was happy to regard it as a long-term investment… he was very firm on that point, stressing that I wouldn't be expected to turn profits immediately. Which fits what you say about his age, though he gave no direct hint of that."

"Just… be careful, Ygraine," Doyle says; the casual, friendly, jokester of a puppeteer that is usually seen around the building gone in the instant he realized who she was talking about, something dark and hard as steel stirring behind the gaze that he fixes on her, "Adam's a very… very dangerous man, and there's no way of predicting what he's going to do. There's a reason he was locked up in Level Five with me for all those years. It's like Cat said… he's tried to commit genocide more than once. I don't think any of us are anything but mayflies to him. Toys. Puppets." He grimaces at the last, leaning slowly back in his chair.
The only thing left to add here, in Cat's view, is "If he catches you spying on him, you're dead. He likes swords, may have been a Samurai in Japan when he was young. As young as he looks."

The fact that Ygraine hadn't known that Doyle was on Level Five is momentarily visible on her features, before she nods slowly. "I… he… wow. That… might fit", she says, briefly closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. "The… control element, I mean. I didn't have the impression that was exactly being collected, but it did seem a little like he might have been grabbing a chance to grab a… piece that he thought fitted an existing need."

The Briton shrugs slowly. "But I'm aware that I'm just a small piece. However, I can at least try to choose who puts me on the board. And… if doing this would be more useful than the courier work…"

Doyle's head shakes slowly as he relaxes back in his chair, the springs creaking a bit, one hand raising up to rub against his forehead. "He doesn't like letting people go, either, usually… just… just be careful if you're going to deal with him."

She's silent now, her mind on these matters having been spoken. Cat trains her eyes on a nearby wall, what's going on behind them is anyone's guess. It might be, for the second time in a few days, that she'd gladly relieve Adam of his immortality burden with a shotgun to the head and incineration.

Ygraine frowns, running a hand over her hair, before shrugging slowly. "I'll make sure that the contract's water-tight, for ways for me to get out if I need to. But… it sounds like it might be worthwhile. And if nothing else, running a bar could open up a few options of use to the Ferry."

"I wouldn't want to run a bunch of Ferrymen through one of Monroe's businesses," Eric points out, his hand dropping down to his side and a frown curving to his lips, "He might be looking to use that for recruitment, or something…"

"You should let a attorney read any contract before you sign it," Cat advises, "preferably one who knows the law like the back of her hand." She rises from her seat and moves toward the door. "He's right. No exposure of Ferry assets to Adam. We aren't short on business fronts, anyway."

Just before opening the door and stepping outside, she states "We'll be in contact. Keep your head down, Ygraine. See you around, Eric."

"I was thinking rather more of information channels", Ygraine says dryly. "If he's a quarter as dangerous as you believe, then…." She shrugs slightly, nodding a farewell to Cat as the woman departs, before focusing upon Eric once more.

"Thank you for the warning", she says quietly. "I'll… think about this very carefully indeed. I'd no idea he might be… anything more than eccentric."

"Most people don't," Eric admits with a slow shake of his head, "He once told me that if I stopped warning prospective employees about me, he was going to kill me - then he tried to pay me off as some honey to go with the vinegar." A wrinkling of his nose, "He's a real bastard."

He brings his hand up, "Cat. G'night. Thanks for coming — let us know about Quinn."

Ygraine sighs worriedly. "I thought it seemed too good to be true", she grumbles. "That's part of the reason why I wanted to ask the Ferry about it. Try to be sure I wasn't blundering into something, oblivious to hidden problems. Nor simply grabbing a cushy job and leaving the Ferry a courier short, for that matter. But… gyah. He sounds… astonishing, to put it mildly."

"I'll never understand why so many women seem to be fascinated by the guy," Doyle says grouchily as he shifts in his seat, hands landing back over his stomach, "I mean, I guess he's got that bad-boy mystique thing going, but, seriously, he's a huge prick."

Ygraine laughs softly, shaking her head "He offered me a lot of money to do a job that might be at least somewhat rewarding, and a chance to pursue a qualification that might be useful. It seemed like it was worth investigating. Him… well, he caught my attention partly by sounding British, which is generally a pleasant surprise over here. But…"

She sighs, shaking her head, and darts a glance towards the door. "I'll be careful. And get the contract thoroughly looked over. But to veer off-topic a little - was it just me, or was Cat a bit… cold?"

Doyle brings a hand up, scratching through his beard as he considers that… gaze roaming to the door, he admits, "I think she's always like that. I've never really - dealt with her very much, admittedly, not one on one. She's always struck me as, you know…" A lean in, a wry half-smile, "…all businesslike and stuck up about it."

Ygraine shrugs ruefully. "I… thought we were getting close, once upon a time", she says quietly. "But… that really did feel like it was all business." A slight sigh, then she shakes her head, and musters a smile of her own.

"So, ahhh, hi. I don't think we've ever properly met before." Pushing off the wall, she offers her hand to Doyle. "Ygraine FitzRoy. Courier, at present, and occasional surveillance and… field operative, I suppose."

At the offer, Eric wheels the chair in a bit closer to the desk - startling the dog, that scampers out of the way and gives the big man a scolding look. He reaches out to clasp the offered hand with a broad grin, "Eric Doyle. I, uh, I used to help out at the Lighthouse, but now I guess I'm co-runner of this safehouse here, at least until we locate Lynette again."

Ygraine shakes firmly. "And… someone who was busted out of incarceration? Or… sorry. I really shouldn't pry into your past. Not just rude of me, but… it's not as if sharing everyone's secrets around is necessarily safe."

Doyle's smile falters a bit at that, and he leans back, his head shaking a little. "No, it's.. okay. Yeah, I've been in a lot of places. Down on Level Five… Moab…" His gaze drops down to the table, "Been a lot of places."

Ygraine winces sharply, guilt quickly and firmly winning out over curiosity. "I'm sorry", she murmurs, sounding sincere. "That was… crass, at best. I really do apologise."

"No, no…" A quick attempt at a smile as Doyle looks back up, "It's okay. Really. Seriously. That was— that was a long time ago. A whole different me."

Ygraine cocks her head, opens her mouth - then chuckles. "I think I'd best not ask about that, either. But… you seem to have found a niche here, from what I've seen thus far. The kids definitely seem to like you."

Doyle's expression softens a bit at the mention of the kids. "They've been through a lot," he says with a shake of his head, "Not just their parents, but… a lot since then. I'm just— just happy I can make them happy sometimes. You know?"

"Helping people can make one's own problems - and flaws - recede into the background, can't it?", Ygraine says gently, a slight smile lifting the corners of her mouth. "When you feel that you've actually made a difference to someone…."

"Yeah. I might not be… a good person," Doyle admits with a slight shake of his head, "If I can— help a few of those kids have a better life, though, maybe it'll all be worth it."

Ygraine offers the fat man a sympathetic look. "I'm… rather a strong believer in being able to make amends", she says gently. "I've never really believed that people are fixed in one path for life - for good or bad. It takes work to really be one or the other… and I know which I'd rather make an impact with."

Doyle shakes his head slowly to that, his expression serious as he leans forward. "Not really. It can be… really… really easy to be a monster, Ygraine." His lips curl a little up at one corner, almost in a smile, before he leans back with an exhalation of breath, eyes closing, "And a lot of work to be good. I just hope I can make a difference with the kids. That's all."

Ygraine rather intently studies Doyle for a few moments, then offers a gentle nod. "Helping to keep this place running counts as doing some good, I'd say", she ventures. "And from what I've seen, you've won the trust and affection of the kids. Which… you should take as quite an accomplishment, given what they've been through."

"I'm just here until Lynette gets back," Eric admits, hands lifting a bit as if to beg off any credit for keeping Gun Hill running, "And, I mean, hell, they even sent someone else here to help run the place." He grimaces a bit, glancing to the file folders, "I'm not sure what we're doing once… she gets back."

"I suspect that if some of the residents have a say, you'll be staying right where you are", Ygraine says warmly. "And I'd hope that their word counts for rather a lot, to be honest."

"I don't know, Brian and Gillian might want to reignite the Lighthouse fire again… or somewhere else," admits Doyle, reaching down to finally make up with the dog by scratching behind his ears, "Anyway. I need to get all this paperwork in order. Hopefully Cat'll clear Quinn soon, so we can stop tip-toing around her…"

Ygraine chuckles and nods. "If you ever want a hand with anything, do let me know", she requests gently. "And… thank you for hosting this, Superintendent." Touching fingers to her temple in a mock salute, she flashes an impish grin and strides out the door.

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