The Rodent of Unusual Size


carrie_icon.gif corbin_icon.gif curt_icon.gif kayla_icon.gif magnes_icon.gif veronica_icon.gif

Also Featuring

Agent Florence Anderson and Agent Felicia Brooks

Scene Title The Rodent of Unusual Size
Synopsis The Company has turned out in force for a barbecue on the beach at Montauk Point. There's beer, gossip, injured agents, gun-toting agents, flying agents, and even frilly pink agents. Or at least one. There are no horseshoes. Also, the Montauk Monster crashes the party for food. Or maybe just attention. Something like that.
Date July 25, 2009

Montauk Point

Montauk Point is all about the ocean. Tall stone bluffs rise from sandy beaches, sometimes more successfully than others; there are points at which erosion has caused the bluffs to collapse, the waves slowly leaching the stone away. One hundred feet back from this border sits the Montauk Point Lighthouse, the oldest lighthouse in the state of New York; operated by the Montauk Historical Society, it houses a museum which is open to the public during summer months. There is also a restaurant, an outdoor picnic area, and a playground — not to mention a gift shop. Other attractions of the point include five miles of hiking trails, picturesque views of the ocean and nearby islands, birdwatching, seal-watching, and — perhaps above all else — world-renowned surf-fishing and surfing.

It's a little before sunset, and Camp Hero State Park is quiet. Though nominally open until dusk, as state parks are, the state police and accompanying patrol dogs have retreated to their quarters; the lighthouse is occupied only by those who run its light; the hiking trails are empty, as are the roads. It's certain; there are no conspiracy theorists lurking in the woods.

Just way too many Company employees, spilled out of Fort Hero to get away from damp concrete and artificial lights. A long stretch of sandy beach has been appropriated, trampled under several dozen feet, hidden in places by beach towels, blankets, and umbrellas soon to become irrelevant; there are several grills going, tables with various side dishes, drinks in every flavor except hard liquor. A volleyball net has been strung up, currently ignored in favor of setting up lights by which to continue the game later when it gets darker; there are groups who may or may not be competing for the title of 'most unwieldy sandcastle', and a knot of swimmers playing something that looks a lot like 'who can drown first'. Which is to say, some people are having fun.

Kayla is hiding the fact that she doesn't want to get involved in the games by making herself 'useful' instead. The secretary has hauled a case of water bottles over from where it was waiting to one of the ice chests, and occupies herself with putting them in to chill. Tilting the chest up, the young woman gauges the proportion of ice and water inside… she can go get more ice after this, too.

A newcomer to the fun and games — if she plans to partake of either, which is unlikely, given her mood and health at the moment — Veronica trudges in flip flops down the trail and stands apart from the festivities for a few moments. She's dressed in a bright green bikini with short denim shorts covering the bottom, which suggest she might consider going in the water. However, her left arm is also in a sling which ruins the little-surfer-girl look she has going with her Costa Rican tan. She scans the crowd of agents, not really expecting to see anyone happy to see her.

Shorts, Magnes is in shorts, and he doesn't want Elle, Veronica, or even Carrie to see (even if she already has). He's wearing a plain white t-shirt with Squirrel Girl on it, she's making a sand castle, in a bikini. His bright orange swimming trunks that stop halfway down his thighs are hidden by a huge white towel that drapes over his knees, sitting in the sand as he attempts to pretend he's not waiting to see his co-workers/friends in bikinis.

Flora is flouncing about, pink ruffled polka dot bikini, golden blonde hair cascading in waves down her back. This is not an agent. Right? Right? Wrong. She's an agent. She's about one of the perkiest agents who seems to never do wrong. She bags, she tags, she brings them in and has never missed a shot. She's Florence Anderson. She's also an illusionist.

Flora flounces past Magnes, giving him a wave, hips moving side to side as she goes. Veronica gets the same. If they made a movie about the Company? She'd be the kinda person they'd cast. "I'm starving," she gushes to Veronica, sliding an arm through her good one. "You must tell me all about Costa Rica! I went to Sweden, I have been dying to go, but that was for a bag and tag of this outrageous atmo, who was like, making lightning storms for fun. I mean really, who enjoys electrocuting trees?" Destination: Kayla's corner that she's hiding in.

Already out there, as agents start streaming out, is Carrie — already looking less then happy. Or as much as one can tell with her wraparound shades. Kicking back in a beach chair, feet stretched out in front of her, she's also wearing a shoulder sling, her shoulder heavily bandaged. She's wearing a bikini in a camouflage print and a pair of black board shorts that stop at the knees.

Her head turns now and then to watch the various agents as they pass her. Her fingers hold a bottle of beer loosely. She may look cranky, but she also seems rather content to sit there and watch the people all around her. Spotting Vee, Carrie raises her beer in salute, before taking a drink of it.

Some people are having fun. Anybody who isn't has some serious problems they need to straighten out, if they're here— at least in one agent's book. A trim-muscled, dark-haired woman is one of those who had been in the water, one of a laughing, mercilessly splashing circle of other agents, but she emerges alone onto the sand now. A long towel is picked up from a nearby blanket, wrapped around her waist as she casually approaches in Kayla's direction. Dripping, braided cornrows are gathered into a ponytail; a glimpse of a wet gold earring becomes visible as she does, the woman's expression screwed up in concentration.

Why Kayla? Well. Just because of the way she looks, really. A smirk slips onto Agent Brooks' face as Flora practically skips past, and she gives Kayla a knowing half-glance as she comes to a halt. "Somebody's excited to be out," she remarks, briefly looking towards the woman she had commented on, then glancing back at Kayla. "But not everyone. C'mon, someone can mess with the water bottles later. Join the rest of us."

Magnes' eyes practically shoot out of his head when Flora sways past, but he promptly averts them to the sand. Then he realizes who she's talking to, and instantly shoots up from the ground with his towel swaying in the wind, flying towards Veronica quite happily. "You're back!"

One, she can deal with. Work through. As Flora drags Veronica over and Ms. Brooks plants herself nearby, the half-case of water bottles tips out of Kayla's hands, spilling onto the sand to a muted grunt. The empathetic healer braces her right hand against the table edge to prevent herself from folding forward, left arm hanging deliberately stiff at her side; two is too many. She carefully doesn't look at Carrie or Veronica; the agent-trainee flyby gets a scowl instead, which is soon transferred to Agent Brooks. "And do what?" The words are short, surly; her expression is as masklike as Kayla can force it to be.

Veronica overhears Kayla, turns, sees the painful posture of the healer, and frowns. "Flora, you airhead," she grumbles, and jerks her hand from the perky blonde's grasp. "Shit. Sorry, Kayla," she mutters, her eyes dropping rather than meeting the pain-filled eyes of the woman she was trying to avoid. "Magnes!" Vee says happily, and nods her head. "Let's walk down toward the water. It's hot." It's an excuse to get away from Kayla, to try to make that woman's life a little less painful at least today. "How have you been? Nice … shorts." They're a very bright pair, bright green and bright orange.

"Oooops! I forgot about that! Soooorrreeeeeeeeey!" Flora gushes — again — an apology when Veronica reminds her. Snagging the neck of a waterbottle she waggles it to Veronica as she retreats to Magnes. "I totally keep forgetting about that!" That whole empathic thing and Flora looks to the horseshoes that are marked out in the sand. There will be a big bouquet of flowers and an apology from Flora on Monday on Kayla's desk. "Horseshoe time!" Flora looks to Kayla and then the other dark haired agent with them — Felicia Brooks — and points. "Come on you two! No excuses. Let's get going! I promise, it's far enough away from the injured ones."

Head moving to look in the direction of Magnes, Carrie's lips lift in a small smile. She moves to sit straighter and grimaces as some stitches pull a bit. She settles into her chair again with a wiggle to get comfy. She lifts her beer and finds it empty; well crap. Glancing over at the group, Carrie lifts a hand and gives a sharp whistle grabbing attention, her main focus is Magnes. "Hey.. Maggie Boy. Can you grab me another beer before you guys go walking?" She holds up her empty one and gives it a wiggle. She's found a good use for her flying trainee. "Please?"

Landing and quickly fixing his towel with bright red cheeks, Magnes tries to hold his towel in place as he flies over to the coolers, grabbing a beer. He lands next to Carrie, peering directly at the wonder that is her bikini, vaguely offering the can somewhere near her face.

"I uh, well, I've had some pretty hard times, my friend was killed, but, things are starting to look up. I'm dating Elle, I think, and I see a therapist. I sort've changed my style too, but I wanted to relax today, so no dressy stuff." he says, to Veronica, though his eyes are distracted.

"Effin shit, who peed in your pool?" is Felicia's taken aback retort to Kayla, though her demeanor is a combination of amused and open; her words clearly aren't meant to indicate that she's really offended. She jabs one thumb backwards in the air, over her bare shoulder. "Like blondie said, they're startin' a game of horseshoes. C'mon, turn that frown upside down. It'll be fun." Momentarily turning her back on Kayla, she re-tucks one end of her towel around her waist so it's nice and neat. There.

She lifts her voice, calling loudly over at Magnes: "Gravity boy — nice shorts."

Veronica retreats, and Kayla slowly, stiffly straightens, unclenching her fingers from where they had adhered to the surface of the table. Takes the time to at least brush her hand over the creases left behind in the tablecloth, reducing them to something less telltale. The young woman is stubbornly not inclined to smile, but she doesn't object to going somewhere Carrie and Veronica aren't right now — which is its own sort of tell.

"Elle?" Veronica says with a little eyebrow raise and a shake of her head. She waves to Carrie as they pass her chair, though with several meters between them. She knows better than to say anything. Plus, what's she going to say? That's a dangerous relationship? That would be pot calling kettle black. "I'm sorry about your friend. Who was it?" she asks quietly, kicking off her flip flops and picking them up in one hand to walk along the surf. "Is your therapist this person we're all supposed to see? She here? I need to book an appointment." There's a wrinkle of her nose at that — she's not looking forward to a psych eval and keeping her lies straight.

She's not gonna drag Kayla over, nope. Flora's done that already with Veronica and look how that went. But there's a nod as Felicia seconds the request slash order. Horseshoes, and she lopes ahead to claim one of the cordoned off squares to be used. She also chats up the brunette guy in the next pit, waiting for the pair that is Kaylee and Felicia to arrive.

Carrie smiles brightly as Magnes actually does get her a beer. Sweet! Taking the new beer she immediately puts the empty one in his hand. "Thanks Magnes. You are a wonderful. Now.. go talk with Veronica, I know ya missed her." She gives his leg a light swat and then give him a push towards the other wounded agent. One thing she's learned to do is ignore the stares from her young trainee.

The distance Veronica has between them, makes Carrie smirk a bit, fingers wiggling hello. Maybe she found that pair of pants of her with the target sewn on them. Or maybe its the rumors flying around of who she was hunting recently, not like she could keep that secret. Her brows lift a bit as she gives a mental shrug and busies herself with trying to get the beer open.

"I, uh, I hate shorts…" is Magnes' only response to that comment, then smiles at Carrie and runs off with Veronica, throwing the can into the air; he'll get it later. "Yeah, you know her?" he asks, though not quite worried about Elle being missing yet, she might just be home getting some much-needed rest. "I don't think my therapist is here, Carrie suggested I see her after my friend died, since I took it pretty hard. My friend is, uh, Isabelle…" he answers, sounding slightly pained at saying her name.

But Felicia isn't intending on doing any dragging either, nope. All she does is give Kayla something of an eyebrow lift, a severely crooked grin, and a final headtilt towards the cordoned-off area before she starts heading over herself. Maybe the younger woman will follow, maybe she won't; whatever she chooses to do ain't this agent's concern.

So here Kayla is, somewhere between the convalescent agents and two others now in the process of leaving her behind. What she's supposed to do in this case is a mystery that takes too much effort to address; temper shortened by the injury that isn't actually on her shoulder, she stuffs her hands in the pockets of her jeans — more or less; the left is slower to move — and stalks in Felicia's wake. It's obvious when she gets out of range, because Kayla stops and draws in a deep breath, some measure of tension draining from her posture.

Vee walks in the water, not going too deep, as she's still in her shorts. "No, just of her," she says of Elle. "What happened to Carrie's shoulder?" she asks curiously. "I guess we all have to get psych evals. You know, because of the almost-being-blown up thing. And I'm sorry about your friend, Magnes. That's never easy." She puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. "Nice flying, by the way." She offers a sincere smile. She nods back to the horse-shoe area. "You can go play if you want. I think it's best if I stay out of Kayla's way for a bit." She taps her shoulder.

Sweet. Kayla came. Flora is gathering up the horseshoes, getting things set up. A set of red ones for Felicia, blue ones for herself, and green ones are held out for Kayla. "Hope you both know how to play or I'll have to explain" There's apause and a flash of a brilliant smile. "And I'm sure you all don't want me talking more than I've already been talking!" *perk*

Carrie watches Magnes toss the empty beer bottle in the air and shakes her head with a small smile. Boys. She fumbles with the can a bit, but the sling restricts her. So the sling she's forced to wear to keep her wounded shoulder still, is suddenly pulled off and tossed on the ground next to her, "Too damn hot for that," she grumbles; the unopened can is deposited next the sling and she sighs. She settles her head on the chair and closes her eyes, content in her own little world.

"They let me say goodbye to her, so, I'll be fine." Magnes assures, suddenly lifting and crossing his legs, allowing the towel to flow down, making it appear as if he has no feet. "I wanna stay and talk to you. Uh, what do you know about Elle? I've been wanting to learn more. I like her and she's pretty nice, but she can be weird. And thanks, I've been practicing a lot."

Curt makes his own way along the beach, pair of board shorts on with an old military duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He eyes the crew and heads straight for the table with food, if only because they must have beer around here somewhere and if Curt's being forced to be social (he was ordered to go) he's gonna have to be buzzed. The bag is dropped near the table idly.

"Girl, do we look goddamn sheltered?" This to Flora, of course. Felicia bends, straightening again to idly play with a red horseshoe in both her hands. Leaning her weight into one hip, she opens her mouth to quip about something else, but one of the male swimmers far away pokes his head out of the water long enough to roar "Feliciaaaa" — all the way across the beach.

With a little shrug at the sound of the voice, and without even really bothering to look, Brooks attempts to shove the horseshoe firmly into the arms of the nearest passing person — which happens to be Curt. "Fuuuck, well. Think that's my cue to go back to the guys I've ~cruelly abandoned~. You guys try and have fun away from me." A significant glance and slight snort is given to Kayla in particular, and then she's gone, edges of the towel flapping with every long, nonchalant stride.

There's green horseshoes in her hands and Felicia walking away. Now Curt has the red set — and what was she thinking coming over here again? No. No, not so much. Things dropped into sand don't make much noise; the plunk of horseshoes into the loose surface is terribly non-dramatic. "I'm going to get water," Kayla murmurs; excuse, reason, cover story. Whatever works. As she walks away, it's also clear she's not going to the table she'd been at earlier, the one near Carrie, but something farther down the beach.

"Not a lot, Magnes. You might have noticed, I'm not super social with most people here, and I've only been here a few months," Veronica points out. She kicks the water so an arc of water splashes him in his face as he floats above the water. "Come on." She slides out of her shorts, tossing first the shorts and then the flip flops, and finally her sling onto the sand. The rest of the beach gets a view of her bikini clad form, and her new Costa Rican tan. "You do know how to swim, Orang-nes?" She starts to wade into the water. "So, what happened to Carrie's shoulder?" she asks again.

"Party poooper!" Flora calls out, the ruffles on her bikini fluttering in the breeze. But that's all the razzing that Kayla is gonna get as Agent Florence aka Flora turns her golden-framed face on Curt. "Hey, horseshoes! Then I'll let you…" But then she looks down the beach, eyes widening, so very wide as something nearly hairless lopes along the beach at a distance. Mottled blue on pink, what looks like a beak where its mouth should be and the size of a dog, something is bearing down on the Company picnic. "Oh my god!" Her arms wrap around Curt. "Look at that!" This is when the screaming starts.

Curt eyes the horseshoes thrust upon him as he comes up with a pair of beers, then looks at the people playing. He quickly pops the top off of one of the beers and tilts its bottom skyward. He doesn't bring it back down until it's empty. Then he pops the top of the second and starts to raise it to his lips as well… But then there's the woman hugging him and that just totally throws him off. "What the fuck, lady!?" His eyes go down the beach and he blinks. Man is he glad he brought that bag… Now, if he can pry the crazy off of him so he can get to it!

Magnes finally bites the bullet, removing his towel and tossing it back on to the sand, immediately sinking down to hide his trunks under water. He wipes the water from his face, staring at Veronica with a rather, well, let's-just-say-he likes-her-bikini expression. "I uh, so, yeah, Carrie and Minea, they got into a thing the other day…"

"The fuck is that?"
"Where'd it come from?"
"Why should I know?"
"You think it eats sausages?"
"I bet it eats small children and stupid agents."
"Are you calling me stupid?" Splash.

Maybe they've had a little too much beer. Other people see it too, one by one, conversations dying as their distraction is noticed. Some scream and scramble for the perceived safety of any direction resembling away. Some draw guns, raise hands; some stare in surprised disbelief. Surely nothing living looks like that?

"And here I thought Rodents of Unusual Size were just fictitious," Veronica says with a nod in the direction, before Magnes' words distract her from the weird creature. "What? Minea? And they shot at each other? Did Minea say anything? Did Carrie hit Minea back?" Vee demands, each question getting her closer to Magnes in a not-very-flirtatious way. She looks like she might try to shake the details out of him. "Answer, and if that thing comes in the water, you need to fly me away because I only have one good arm." Damn shoulder.

Off by the refreshment table, Corbin stands with a loose button up shirt (with a design that gives a vague impression of a tourist at a beach resort instead of an agent/newspaper reporter). The buttons are undone to the halfway point to allow air in, and a pair of shorts complete the package. It does not appear he intends to be swimming, though. Curly hair, sunglasses, scruffy beard and facial hair, all in all he could be sipping martinies on a beach somewhere. Possibly even the colored fruity kinds. Instead he just has a glass of clear water, which he sips, as he looks among the crowd. The yelling draws his eyes over to curt and Flora, though he half expects to see a snake or something from the sound of it. That's not a snake, and it's not just one person reacting. "Of all the god damn times," he exclaims, not drunk himself, but not pleased for one simple reason. The drink is put down, a hand patting down his shirt— yup. Just what he thought. He didn't bring his gun. Not that he expected to need it at a picnic.

"Is that a pig?" Magnes asks with a rather creeped out look on his face, but then Veronica starts asking questions, and getting closer, which causes him to step back faster. Bikini, bikini, bikini, oh no! "I uh, I'm not sure, I went there to pick up Carrie, I think someone shot at me, then I got hit by a big gust of wind for some reason. I didn't actually see Minea or hear what they were talking about, but they did shoot at eachother, in the Midtown ruins."

Well, Curt sucks. Flora was hoping for something more, but that fails as she steps back, lets him go for whatever it is that he's going for. "It's.. Oh my god!" Flora cups her hands and yells. "It's the Montauk Monster!" Screaming loud as she can. She didn't come bearing guns so she flounces away towards the water and the safety that it might provide.

The beast/rodent/what have you doesn't seem fazed, just hell bent for leather dashing and dodging through the Company agents as it finally hits the populated area of the beach. It pants and wheezes, dodges, dips, ducks, dives, dodges, the five D's of dodgeball. A tongue loll's out of it's beak like mouth. It's heading for the center of the affair, making snapping motions at people but not actually biting.

Curt watches the blond that was clinging to him flounce off with an incredulous look, "When I get back I'm so finding out who hired her." he mutters under his breath. He reaches down into that nifty bag of his and comes out with a double barreled shotgun, pistol grip and all, sawed off all the way to the stock. Curt's old school… except when it comes to machine guns. He eyes the pigthing and then the shotgun. He glances at Corbin who's just on the other side of the table from him, "Overkill?" he asks, wondering the man's opinion on the matter.

Head coming up off her chair as the screaming starts, Carrie frowns a bit, looking completely annoyed. Lifting her sunglasses to sit on the top of her head, she squints out to see what everyone is screaming about.

Brows lift high as she sees the — thing coming down the beach. Shaking her head, she grabs her sling from the sand and settles her bad arm in it again before climbing to her feet. As people go screaming and scrambling away she shouts "Oh come on guys… We're fucking Company Agents!" Seriously, you don't scream and run away.. you shoot them. Of course, she can't in her present condition, which irritates the hell out of her.. "I mean seriously. It's not even that big."

The question from Curt who isn't that far from her, draws her attention. "Thank god.. someone with sense. Show them how an Agent is suppose to act." Her good hand motioning to Curt and sweeps around to point at the —thing. A glance at the man, Curt is addressing before she looks back out at the charging — thing.

"Did Carrie go after her or was it just a coincidence?" Veronica demands of Magnes, not too fazed by the pig-rodent-thing either. She's in the water, there's agents with guns, it's covered. She does turn, shielding her eyes as she peers back toward the beach to see Curt with a sawed-off shotgun. "God, he's a crackpot. And I have to take a psych eval?" she mutters. Turning back to Magnes, she gestures. "How'd they run into each other, Magnes?" She ducks under the water and comes up again, tilting her head back so the water streams backward and not over her face. Wet bikini, weapon of mass destruction. Or hopefully a truth serum of sorts.

Well, despite being non-combat-like in general and having spent years in the archives and behind a desk, Corbin isn't running around screaming, even as he watches it, putting his hand down on the table as if he intends to flip it as a shield if he has to. No gun, but he's certainly not going to stand there or flounce around. No matter how he dresses. "Just a bit, but I'd get rid of that thing before someone hurts themselves," he says in response to Curt, even grinning a bit. "This'd make a great internet article, too…" Though not the kind he'd print out and show to his ex-partner…

Curt sighs a bit and nods, "Yeah, but it's this, the machine pistol, or the broken down rifle." he frowns, as if picking the proper weapon were very important. "Fuck it." He pulls the hammers back on the gun and turns to eye the 'monster', "GET OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY!" he bellows, loud enough people should at least see him with the cannon and do as he says. He waits for a clean shot as he marches towards the creature…

"I uh, I mean, that's an endangered species…" Magnes could either be referring to the monster, or Veronica's boobs, it's really hard to tell at the moment. "Carrie went after her 'cause Minea beat me up, but I told her not to do anything like that for me, so it's boob now… I mean alright, it's alright now!"

Seeming satisfied with that, Carrie eases back into her chair since she knows it's taken care of. Reaching up, she flips her sunglasses back down to rest on her nose. The unopened beer is picked up from the sand and this time she finally succeeds in opening it. Wiggling into a more comfortable position, wincing from the pain in her shoulder, and waits for the fireworks.

Curt nears the thing in his suicidal way and pulls the trigger on the gun, firing a wide spread of double-ought at the creature, then another. He doesn't even wait to see if the thing is in peices or not. Curt doesn't miss. He just turns his back and walks back to the table, putting the gun away and throwing the bag over his shoulder. "Fuck this shit. They can give me a demerit or something, I'm out." He takes his beer with him.

The monster dashes this way! That way! Full out running, making strange sounds that really, what would you expect of it. People scatter when Curt brings out the gun, and with the fire of shots, the monster doesn't stop. There's no marks on it, no slowing, just indentation on the sand in its trail where Curt's shots hit home.

Till it hits the fire. What once was there, disappears the moment it hits the bonefire pit.

And from the edge of the water, Flora is laughing her pink ruffled ass off.

Agent Florence the Illusionist.

"It's not a species, it's an anomaly—er, illusion, that's what I was trying to say," Veronica says, laughing a little as the shared hallucination disappears. She turns her attention back to Magnes, water clinging to her eyelashes like tears. "Minea beat you up? What? Explain, Magpie," she says, frowning, wading a little further until just her head is out of the water. Warmer that way — that water is cold, and she doesn't need that much of Magnes' attention.

Serious stuff going on, but while Curt's all business, Corbin's laughing over by the table, needing to grip onto it for a different reason. That makes a better article than he thought. He even has the headline coming to him. A hand goes up to point at the woman who flounced off, only to have crashed the party with a prank. "Nice work. Best entertainment since the bikinis," he says, still laughing even if she can't hear him. A few moments later he retrieves his drink, luckily not spilled or knocked over in the commotion. He won't be able to drink until he can stop snickering softly.

"Oh…" Magnes keeps everything below his waist under water, because, well, he doesn't need a lifetime of humiliation. "She beat me up to teach me a lesson or something. About hesitating and that she's my enemy, I think…" He shakes his head and sinks down deeper into the water, this time actually crossing his legs under it. He does not look happy.

There's some cranky people who don't quite appreciate Flora's illusion. But Flora's enjoying it, imitating the sounds that it made towards some others in the water near her before she gets back out, making her way to Corbin's table, flounce flounce flounce, to get a drink too. Horseshoes has been abandoned.

That does sound like Minea. And what's more, it sounds to Veronica like Minea is still trying to teach Magnes, which means she still cares. "Yeah, what is that about? Curt did the same thing to me once. Near gave me a concussion." That and two black eyes for a while. "It's okay, Magnes, cheer up. I just needed to know what's going on. I'll quit the Spanish Inquisition, all right?" She gives him a quick hug, careful not to press too close. "It's good to see you. I missed you too."

As the flouncing Agent makes her way over, Corbin's still smiling, with his glass of ice water and his unbuttoned shirt. "Nice job on that. Montauk Monster— seemingly alive and well, attacking a picnic by the beach." A story waiting to happen, minus the whole… "Question— do your illusions show up in photographs?" The cranky people might be why he asks that a little softer. It's a legitimate question! "Cause a ghost of the Montauk Monster would make a great tabloid story, especially with a new picture, maybe of it streaking away, barely visible, disappearing into the firepit…" Now he's starting to wish he'd brought a camera. He wished it early, for completely different (bikini) reasons.

"I'm glad you're back, and, don't say this stuff to the superiors, alright? Carrie's gonna do it herself I think, and I want her to stay my mentor." Magnes' arms are held out as she hugs him, moving one hand to platonically pat her back a few times. Normally he can somewhat bite the bullet and hug, but, bikini, water… "U-uh, can you do a favor for me?"

There is a sigh from Carrie as the illusion fades, a glance going to the culprit. She works herself to her feet with little grace. It's kinda tough when you've got a bullet hole in your are. There isn't really a word to anyone as she starts her way back to the compound, jaw clenched tight as she loses herself in thought. She needs to hunt down her vicadin and maybe just crash early.. let everyone else have their fun.

"They sure do!" Flora leans against the table, twisting this was and that way with that brilliant white smile. "Remember that Elephant that supposedly went through Canal street market three years ago? Hit all the papers? That was me. I was a little drunk" Flora confesses. "I can make it up again if ya want. I think Gerald down there has his camera. GERALD! Did you get some pictures!"

"You bet!" He calls back. "You minx you!" The ruffle agent just grins. "You can get them off him Corbin"

Veronica turns onto her back to float. "I… maybe," she says, to the first, not promising to keep her mouth shut. "And it depends. What's the favor? I'm not dressing up as Wonder Woman for you, no matter how much you plead." She's only kidding, knowing that's not what he wants.

"Well I did make this one costume…" Magnes coughs, clearing his throat with a quick shake of his head. "I uh, well, I wanna know more about Elle, but she's so… mysterious. You're a gir—er, woman, couldn't you do something?"

"I vaguely remember that, but I didn't know you caused it. But I never expected a good laugh at one of these things. They're usually pretty dry unless someone gets plastered and decides to try shooting at the clouds," Corbin admits, still grinning as he puts his drink down. "Thanks for livening things up, Flora," he adds. "I'll have to go talk to him about it."

"My pleasure Corbin!" And hand on her own beer, Flora's off, and for shits and giggles, there's little hearts, literally, that trail off behind her like bubbles in the water floating towards the surface. At a certain point they pop - silently - and are no more. She's having more than a little bit of fun at the party as she goes to join the volleyball game.

"I … doubt that, but maybe. I mean, I don't even know her, Magnes. I've never talked to her. I just know who she is." She puts her feet back down on the sand below and begins to stride inland. "Looks like they're starting the bonfire, and it's cold in here. Let's head in." She reaches for his hand and tugs him with her. "By the way. If Minea didn't kill you, it means she cares. Even if she's on the other side."

When the woman flounces off again, Corbin takes his drink and finds a seat to sit back and admire the views. Surprisingly, the Company has it's fair share of attractive ladies. It must be one of the hiring standards. Attractive.

"She kneed me in the nuts." is Magnes' only real response for that, taking the hand and floating them out of the water, heading for the fire. "But, I don't know, maybe, it's just hard to get over the nut kicking."

Now that it's dark, most of the swimmers follow suit, coming in from the water to huddle around the fire. Veronica finds a towel and wraps herself in it. "You'll get over the nut kicking. You wouldn't get over being dead," she tells Magnes as she accepts a bar of chocolate, a pair of graham crackers, and a rod with two marshmallows on it. It's hard to hold in one hand. "Toast me my marshmallows, boy!" she tells Magnes, since both of their partners have wandered off. Someone's telling a ghost story, of the creepy stories of Montauk, of course. It's almost like summer camp.

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