The Sins Of The Past


alia_icon.gif asi_icon.gif atticus_icon.gif cassandra_icon.gifdelia_icon.gif eve_icon.gifhuruma_icon.gif jared_icon.gifkaylee2_icon.gif lynette_icon.gif luther2_icon.gif marlowe_icon.gif monica3_icon.gif rasheed_icon.gifrichard3_icon.gif robyn_icon.gif sera_icon.gif squeaks_icon.gif zelda_icon.gif

Scene Title The Sins of the Past
Synopsis The Company didn't finish something back in their heyday… something that's coming back. Richard lays out the details for anyone who will listen.
Date October 18, 2018

Raytech NYCSZ Branch Office

“I don’t— I don’t know what I expected,” Richard says to an as-yet empty room as he stands and stares at the side table that was meant to have refreshments for the presentation’s guests. A table that, currently, has four separate large crystal punch bowls that have all been filled to the brim with the same particular treat.

He’s not sure where Sera even got this much caramel popcorn in the middle of a food shortage, and frankly, he’s a little afraid to ask.

There is, at least, a healthy amount of liquor bottles (and some non-alcoholic drinks as well) set up in an open bar style, which may soften the lack of any more substantial food being offered this evening.

There’s a show of security being made tonight, with checkpoints at both the gates of the facility parking and at the building’s door to double-check identification and log the visitors’ arrival at both points. The bright lights both in the parking lot and within the building shine over RT-A02 body armor with Redbird insignias emblazoned on the shoulders, armed with both sonic and conventional weapons shoulder any emergencies arrive. Lanyards are given out as people arrive, identifying them as valid guests for the evening.

It’s as much to impress upon people the importance of the presentation tonight as it is to show off the strength of their security, in truth.

The conference room is the largest that Raytech has, roughly triangular in shape with a slight rise upwards from the main stage to give those furthest back a better chance of seeing; fairly comfortable seats in black faux-leather form rows with aisles down the sides and one down the middle, the wall behind the stage one big screen from the looks of it, currently displaying a slowly rotating Raytech logo as people begin to arrive.

A small quadrupedal robot in black and red stalks fairly adorably along the aisles, carrying bowls of caramel popcorn with its extending arm to hand off to those interested.

Richard figured he might as well make the best of it.

Hand running back through her hair in the attempt to stamp out any wild helmet hair, a slender Japanese woman in a black leather jacket steps through the doorway of conference room, brow ticking upward in surprise as she sees it… well, as empty as it currently is. There's a slight tilt of her head as she considers that, probably thinking something about punctuality.

Asi Tetsuyama keeps the thought to herself, looking to the man standing in the middle of all the popcorn. She ignores the very eager automaton that's trotted up to offer her some. "Mr. Ray, I presume?" she asks, still more or less in the doorway. She at least steps to the side, adjusting the lanyard over the top of her jacket.

Caramel popcorn, seriously? Whatever. Delia grabs a few handfuls and proceeds to eat it before piling more into a bowl. Then she's off to the punch (sans alcohol) for a large glass to wash all of this down. Two glasses and a full bowl of popcorn later, she's still hanging around the table. More to make sure she gets her fill before getting cut loose into the cold dark night.

One of the quadrupeds is held up as she lifts another bowl, then she takes yet another. "Don't go too far," she says to the robot, "I need another drink and some more popcorn." Then she leans back into her seat and practices catching morsels that she tosses into the air.

Rasheed is sitting there in his casual blazer over a thick cotton shirt with black and white stripes, reaching for some of the popcorn for his bowl as well, while staring around at the people present. "Lot of notable people here. I feel a little out of place, but I'll help with whatever I can." He nods to Richard. "It's nice to meet you, I've heard a lot."

Wilhelmina Falkenrath’s entrance is much less direct than her coworker’s — she trails after Asi, her own lanyard displayed over the top of her crisply tailored business suit, dark brown eyes roving around the building as she makes her way into the conference room, her purse slung over one shoulder.

She doesn’t waste too much time in finding her way over to the beverages, obtaining a mixed drink. She does find her gaze wandering over to Richard Ray, but he seems a bit busy; she’ll introduce herself after the conference, likely, when he is much less swamped with greetings and the like.

Robyn Quinn has been here for a bit now, waiting for the meeting to start; she might have been here later had it not been Eve who had dragged her on when she did. HEr expression is distant for the moment, listening and taking in the people that have arrived, but not offering any sort of greeting or acknowledgement. Not yet at least. Glass in hand, she takes a long sip of a self mixed whiskey sour as she waits for the night to begin.

Cassandra Baumann is on time, but only just. With the ferry from Fort Jay running a little slow thanks to a stalled tug boat blocking the wharf, it took a lot of doing to get here before everything started. Apparently she did something right with her meeting with Richard and Ben, because her credentials are accepted and she's issued an official lanyard with her name on it and, as she enters, she takes a few moments to hopefully see some familiar faces. Hopefully business casual is okay - she didn't even have a chance to head home and change into something nicer.

Waving off the alcoholic drinks, she takes some of the popcorn and a soda, of all things. She's being good, and the last thing anyone needs to have happen is random memories from random objects suddenly projected.

Richard made good on his word to send a note to Huruma when he figured out the logistics for such a meetup. It reminds her a little bit of before the war, honestly— where people of vastly different stripes got roped together. Hopefully this is less lethal. Hopefully.

Foregoing bike leathers for a pair of high-waisted pants and a plaid-patterned shirt, Huruma still manages to cut a striking impression by virtue of being herself. She gives a wave of greeting to Richard at the other end of the conference room, and nods for anyone else that tosses something her way.

"I think if you asked, he would let you take the leftovers home." Huruma lounges into a seat near to Delia, slinging one leg over the other. She then reaches out to snipe a piece of popcorn from the redhead's bowl.

Standing a bit uncomfortable off to one side is Kaylee Sumter, she partakes in nothing and almost looks like she wishes she was elsewhere. So many minds in one place, not to mention the tired look from continued sleepless nights. One arm still splinted from ‘a fall’ that sprained her wrist. At least the scratches to her face has healed enough not to need the stitches anymore, though if someone is close enough they would notice the raised lines under her make-up.

Being as it is a Raytech meeting, Kaylee has donned her red power suit with black chemise under the jacket. She is dressed for business.

She watches the procession of people into the room quietly. Blue eyes following those she knows for a long moment and watches those she knows less for even longer. It’s not really noticable if she’s listening to thoughts or not. Those that know her can make their own decisions.

Noticeably absent from the room would be Ryans. It seems he did not take up Richard on the invitation. Knowing the old man, something important probably came up.

Hi Kaylee!” Sera screams as she springs into the telepath’s peripheral vision, holding a squirming cat under one arm and a spray bottle in the other. “I have an important business-related question for you,” Sera notes with a look to the crowd, followed by a tightening of her grip on the cat. “Does telepathy work on animals?” Then, leaning in even closer she adds. “Relatedly, can you telepathically command a cat not to scratch the leather?” Her eyes narrow. “There's so much leather in this building.

Alia has at some point joined the group. She’s the one in the knee length dress that looks to be mostly black… with an actual, working pacman demo playing around and around and around on it. Likely some kind of wizardry with fiber optic cords she bought somewhere at some point. That said, she looks at the refreshments, and just… kind of blinks. Before pouring herself a soda. The resident technopath will save the hard drinks for the headache she is sure to have later. Of course, this is after she’s already shut off all the sensitive storage servers, and made sure the network was put into guest mode. (One honey pot on the ‘secured’ side, 60 MB of encrypted LOL Cats armed and ready…)

“I certainly hope so, I— ah. Ms. Tetsuyama? A pleasure to meet you at last,” Richard offers with a faint smile, giving the woman a curious once-over as if thinking she was taller - or shorter - than he expected. Before he can say anything else, then there’s another greeting, and he nods over to Rasheed, “Agent— ah.”

He flashes the pair a wry smile, “Apologies, if I don’t start this up shortly I’ll be buried under pleasantries and we’ll be here all week.” He moves to step past, nearly trips over a small robot, does an almost-pirouette to keep from falling and then keeps walking as if nothing happened.

The robot’s unfazed. It has a gyroscope.

At the side of the room, staying mostly quiet and simply watching the people as they begin to fill the room, Jared Harrison has a watchful expression on his face. Leaning back on the wall, he has his hands clasped in front of him on the head of a cane that touches the floor. He's not using it at the moment, but the older man keeps it with him just in case he should need it this evening. He leans sideways occasionally to speak quietly to the man standing next to him, a giant blond who has the sense of being Security. Perhaps just offering the names of the people he's familiar enough with to name names for Richard's bodyguard.

There is a physical jump from Kaylee as Sera pops out of nowhere. The hand of her splinted hand going to her chest. There is a glance around to see if there was someplace she could have come from. “Sera.” Kaylee says pleasantly, under the flicker of annoyance. “Hi. Uh— so about that,” Blue eyes drop to the cat in her arm, sorry baby. “I can’t talk to animals, only… humans. You’ll have a feline telepath or that and I’m not sure how good of an idea that is.”

A flicker of a glance goes to the stage and she shoo’s the secretary. “I’d take him out, some of these people might be allergic to him. Dump him in Richard’s office or something.” There is a wicked twist to her smile as she says, “Let the little fellow tear up Richard’s furniture for awhile. I already told the purchasing department he isn’t allowed to buy new furniture until the next fiscal year.” Of course, they just started the new fiscal year. (Sorry Richard.)

Acknowledging Richard's returned greeting with a tip of her head, Asi considers the room and opts to remain standing by the door. Richard's near-tumble with his own electronic assistant is enough encouragement. Hands slide into her pockets before she leans back into the wall, elbow brushing the frame of some control panel — probably the lights or something — and she looks back with a small frown before edging slightly to the right of it. Wouldn't do to accidentally bump against something important, like the projector settings. It'd take away from all the people-watching.

A subtle shifting of the light towards the front of the room doesn’t quite give the air of a theatre, but it’s enough to draw attention forward even if one doesn’t consciously know why. Richard steps up upon the stage, a hand coming up to adjust the set of his tie as he steps front and center.

“To quote my late adoptive father,” he says, voice carried by some concealed microphone to carry through the room, “Time is not a line.”

The logo behind him disappears, replaced by a single white line— or, more accurately, a ray— moving upwards until it branches into two, the branches continuing upwards, branching again and continuing with that pattern.

“Before we get to the history that we’re here to discuss, and how it’s affecting current events, I need everyone in this room to understand that firstly, time travel is possible, and secondly— it’s worthless for anyone except the time traveller. Any major alterations to past events instead create an alternate timeline, so from the viewpoint of everyone except yourself— you just disappear,” he says, his tone wry as he adds, “Not that I’m ungrateful to those who’ve come back from the future in our past to warn of dangers up ahead, of course. The nature of those occasions isn’t something we’re here to discuss. However, this activity has resulted in the creation of several parallel timelines— other superstrings for those familiar with string theory— harmonizing with our own fairly closely.”

He pauses, then notes, “Don’t worry, I haven’t tricked you all into attending a boring physics lecture, that’s just important background for what’s coming.”

One of the tiny quadrupeds stalks up onto the stage and reaches up with its extending arm to offer him a glass of water, which he accepts and takes a sip of while he gives people time to digest what he’s just said.

Mister Richelieu, no!” Sera screams from within the conference room as the cat squirms our of her arms and rubs under the table, then sprints for the door and out into the hall. Sera barrels after him, spray bottle in hand. It's not clear if she even heard what Kaylee said.

Otherwise, there's an empty chair at the table that should have one Wolfhound Commander Epstein in it. He agreed to the meeting weeks ago. Richard hasn't heard from him since.

"Ugh, Richard. I'm supposed to be the dramatic one," is a light ribbing from Robyn, low so as to not interrupt as Richard starts - mostly because Sera is already doing the interrupting. There's a reason she makes a point of avoiding the receptionist whenever she comes in.

Nodding to Huruma, Delia leans over and whispers, "It's not bad, the popcorn… but you think he could have sprung for a meat and cheese tray or something?" She doesn't feel sorry for the Raytech furniture. If there's a cat in the building, they totally deserve the ripped up furniture. More popcorn is tossed into her mouth, then the bowl is passed Huruma's way. She has another one and the robot dog waiter is bringing more around. She liberates two more bowls from its clutches.

"Psst if you could grab me more juice or something, no liquor."

She frowns when Richard starts to speak because, from what she's understanding, Benji came for nothing and Kincaid died for nothing.

Against one wall, Lynette stands with her arms crossed and her ankles, too. There's a crowd here, one she is obviously not entirely comfortable with. But still, she's here. Half to get informed herself and half as a show of support. The radio whispering dark thoughts to the safe zone has had a lot of people on edge, particularly at the Benchmark— herself included. She hasn't spoken up yet, or even introduced herself to anyone here. It's a little rude, but she hopes they'll be forgiving of her quirks.

Taking up a chair at the table, though, Monica Dawson sits with her feet propped up on the table. Her chair shifts back and forth as people talk, like she can't quite sit still. Anyone who knows her knows this is fairly typical of her when she has to sit through am meeting. Or any time she needs to be quite and still and listen and not pace through the room and make everyone nervous.

Unless she wants to make people nervous.

But she doesn't today.

Not yet anyway.

People watching amongst half a room you know can still get interesting. Huruma doesn't even need to turn her head to follow the flits and flutters of people settling in. She takes the bowl as Delia passes it over, pale eyes following the course of the little robotic host.

Thoughts of asking for one later dissipate once Richard begins.

Huruma takes a cursory look around to pick out missing faces and those foreign to her, listening to Richard go on about how this isn't a physics lecture. Missing faces get a small frown, but rather than voice her discontent she takes her phone from pocket to keep some notes. Just in case.

As Sera screams her way out the room, Kaylee watches her with a look of tolerance, but also considers the door next to her and ponders making a hasty early exit, just in case anyone looks at her as the cause of the outburst. Her position is planned, in case certain topics arise.

Luckily, her brother starts talking, so Kaylee leans against the wall and listens, even if she knows most of what he has to say and even supplied some of it.

Quietly, Zelda settles into her seat, quietly sipping at her beverage. Her brown eyes do flit about the room, stopping on Monica, as well as on Asi. She briefly looks at a majority of the other faces gathered, before her gaze comes to rest on Richard as he speaks.

The former barrister does take out a small notepad and pen, quietly scribbling a few things down — possibly taking notes?

At the shriek from the receptionist, Richard nearly chokes on the water before managing not to die on stage. Pretending that never happened, he hands the glass off to the small robot’s grasper before continuing.

“Michelle LeRoux was a genius, and when I say she was a genius I mean that was literally her SLC expression — she was quite probably the smartest person on Earth, possibly in history,” he says, trying hard to keep an edge of bitterness out of it. He doesn’t quite succeed. “During the early nineteen-eighties she was working with two other scientists, one Edward Ray and one Richard Schwenkman, trying to develop a machine that she believed would let them see through time.”

He pauses a moment.

“She was wrong.”

The screen behind him changes from the ever-branching lines of time to a grainy video, the room darkening at the same time.

«This is… attempt number 18.» The voice is tired. «Power it up.» There’s another loud click and the lights flicker and dim again. The camera shows only darkness with the clock counting as always. There’s a humming sound, low and droning, then a gradually building mechanical buzz. This time, something flickers in the darkness. Electricity dances along the edges of the triangle, sparks and sputters but doesn’t explode.

«Okay. Okay.» Whoever he is, he sounds nervous. «Ok, the coils are holding.» The humming sound continues in the relative dark, and the static crackling across the image becomes greater. The video skips forward with a note ‘4.5 minutes’ displaying, clearly added on more recent video software. Then, «Ok, flip the secondary.»

There’s another click, and this time there is just a pop of light. In the middle of the triangle there is a bluish polygon of light that appears, ghostly and fading on the edges. It looks like a hologram suspended in mid-air or the glow of an old cathode ray-tube television broadcasting static. Cheers erupt from within the tiny room, absolutely riotous cheers. Clapping pops with the bad audio, the camera jostles and wobbles around considerably.

But someone off camera, a woman, is trying to shout over the noise. «Look! Look! Bring the camera over! Oh my god look!» The camera bobbles around again, sweeps down to focus on that triangle of light and them zooms as close in as it can. For a good long moment it’s completely out of focus and everyone is dead silent. The cheering has stopped, and there’s just the low hum and buzz.

Finally, when the image comes into focus it’s like looking into a television screen. Everything is slightly blue-hued, but it’s the back of the lab. That same aluminum sink, but the beer bottle isn’t there. The microscope is missing, and there’s a rag hanging over the side of the sink. «Oh my god, oh my god. The bottle’s gone!» The woman excitedly notices.

«Look! Look the microscope is missing! Oh my god!» Another man says, horizontal bands scrolling up the screen. «I think— I think we’re— I think we did it. That’s gotta be last week!» Then everyone in the room collectively gasps as someone walks into frame on the tiny triangle. The camera bobbles again, unfocuses and makes it impossible to see who it is.

«That’s the last of it. I’ve boxed up the parts, we’ll have them shipped to Langley in the morning.» There’s a distinct, distortion in the other voice, like reverb. Whispers cover over much of what is said next, and the picture comes into focus finally just as the figure walks out of frame from the triangle of light. Multiple people on the film are talking over each other, words “yesterday” and “tomorrow” come up, but also no one seems to be in agreement as to what they’re seeing.

« — ink we’re looking at? What are we looking at?» The cameraman’s voice is clearest now. «Jesus Christ, what is this?» The camera moves back into view of the triangle and there’s a half dozen men in suits carrying boxes across the field of view of the triangle.

«Turn it!» The woman cries, «We can see who they’re talking to!»

«No, no we shouldn’t move it!» A man calls out, «We really shouldn’t.» There’s an argument brewing, those for or against moving the device, and the camera jostles considerably more. Someone shouts, there’s a scrape of table legs moving, followed by a cracklesnap of electrical impulse and another explosion of sparks that fills the air.

The screen goes sharply black, and then that splitting ray slides up the screen once more, the lights coming back up.

“What she’d actually found was a way to see into those alternate timelines. The Looking Glass was successfully activated by her only once, which we just saw in that video,” Richard states seriously, “The activation caused an aurora effect in the atmosphere above the city, which caused the Company agent monitoring her to panic. In the confusion and attempting to escape capture by unknown parties, Michelle LeRoux ran into the street, was hit by a car, and killed on impact, losing the greatest mind the world has ever seen in an instant.”

After a pause, “She never got to marry her fiance, David Cardinal.”

Despite the fact that nothing that is said here is news to the lawyer, Jared's blue eyes study Richard intently. The younger man has lot on his plate. When the video plays, he watches the assembled people as they absorb what's being shown here tonight and makes mental notes on the reactions. He's encouraged Richard to this course of action — sharing what they know — but he's also well aware that there could be backlash.

Alia’s reaction is easily summarized: She likely has already reviewed this whole thing from one end to the other before the event, so surprise isn’t even on the table. Thoughtful worry however, shows on her face as she touches the bishop charm hanging from her necklace.

Asi brings a hand to her face, covering her mouth to prevent any signs of a smile from possibly being seen at the antics that unfold. Yamagato's collection of innovative, inquisitive, quirky minds were amusing to be around … but this was another level. She supposed the unexpected levity allowed for the weighty topic of alternate realities to be addressed with a more open mind.

Arm folded over her chest, she leaves her hand thoughtfully over her face as the video plays. In the darkened room, the light of that other timeline spurns her deadpan expression to turn more pensive. There's plenty she'd ask, if the floor had been opened — but it hasn't, and she imagined this powerhouse of people had not all been called just to see this. There had to be more to it.

As the presentation begins, Huruma remains silent, bowl held on her lap and phone horizontal in her notations. The date pulls on her attention first. It could mean a lot of things- - but she knows more or less what Richard called them all here for, and so other things hook at her thoughts. The dark woman focuses in the darkening room, eyes lit like moons by the reflection of the videos playing in front. While her empathic field hovers around the room like a gentle tide, Huruma is left to absorb the recordings.

By the end it feels so much more than what Richard had been telling her months ago. Her feet are back on the ground, elbows to knees and one hand lingering at her chin. Huruma's eyes narrow and she seems to be completely elsewhere when she murmurs to herself.

"That was it, wasn't it… Eve…" It's not the first time someone has used the name as a cuss. Huruma's hand moves up to rub against her face and brow, a stirring of conflict showing out.

During all of this, Cassandra has found herself a spot to sit and listen with an unobstructed view of the stage and the monitors, a small pad open on her lap, her yellow pencil flying across the page as she takes notes. Alternate timelines don't come as a shock, which is probably surprising to most. She just takes note and listens.

Standing against the wall where Lynette lurks is Luther, Head of RayTech Physical Security. He’s been quiet the whole night, likely to still be so unless an emergency were to arise. The man is simply there to watch and blend for now, counting on his team to handle checkpoints as well as the extensive checks of each figure and their belongings. And backgrounds, when possible.

Lynette tenses when the video plays, a subtle shift probably only Luther is in a position to notice. She’s seen that triangle before, in paintings. In nightmares. Her gaze only flicks over to Richard when he mentions the woman’s missed future and how that must affect him, personally. Dimension-spanning catastrophes are one thing, but filtered through personal loss and hurt— that’s what makes them feel real.

During the video, Monica starts to tap a pencil against the table. By the time it ends, it’s twirling elaborately between her fingers. “That’s a hell of a thing,” she says, an understatement if there ever was one. However. She tilts her head and looks over to Richard. “That’s the only time it was activated here, you mean,” she adds, tone leaving just enough room for it to be considered a question.

A moment later, she’s on her phone, because this is one of those moments where her attention has to flicker like a dying candle.

Marlowe, you’re missing the best meeting. And probably the best pants I have ever seen Richard in.

Richard closes his eyes for just a moment to push past whatever emotions that last portion drew up, and he clears his throat briefly before continuing.

“As was policy at the time, the Company — the same one most of you have heard about in the trials, yes — moved in to cover up the situation. This was complicated when they discovered that in the midst of all the chaos, there had been an overlay effect between timelines. At least sixteen people had crossed over in one direction or the other.”

He pauses, giving Monica a wry look as she speaks, then notes, “The Company handled this event by altering the memory of everyone affected, and those around them, until nobody thought anything had been changed. This may sound outlandish and impossible, but Agent Baumann over there can verify this if necessary. This happened. Looking Glass was not only a way of looking into other worlds, but of crossing over as well.”

After a moment to let that sink in, he adds, “Fortunately for everyone concerned, the Company couldn’t decipher Michelle’s work, and for awhile it just sat in mothballs. Then… something happened, something that’s been buried until recently.”

“They ran into something too powerful for them to handle.”


Not one for dramatic pauses, Delia pipes up as she tosses another handful of popcorn into her mouth. She looks around, suddenly embarrassed about rudely interrupting the speech but really… Richard. She’s sat quietly until now, what could anyone expect? She’s used to instant results where her ability is concerned.

Once he mentions the Company, Richard's meeting turns into a sea of unwelcome stimulation. Sixteen people. Massive memory redactions. Betrayals, in the end.

Eve wasn't full of it.

Then again, has she ever been wrong about her own sight?

Huruma can feel her head swimming some, an unfamiliar sensation that finds her blinking away the pulse of an incoming ache at her temples. When Richard calls out Cassandra as a verified source, Huruma swivels a look to the young woman. What was purely curiosity becomes partly suspicion, faint and tickling. It does nothing to calm the turning of her stomach or the buffeting emotions that feed back through her field unchecked. Everything is suddenly quite loud and bright, and a burning anger clashes with the desire to dry heave.

Of all of this turmoil, hardly any of it shows. Huruma hisses something to herself through her teeth, nails digging into the arms of the cushioned seat.

Huruma feels it around the same time Kaylee does in a different way. A tremor, of sorts. Not of the physical kind, but the way a conscious and thinking mind can unsettle the surface of a room much the way a fish coming close to the surface of the water can. Here, but also decidedly not here.

In a darkened room, an uninvited guest lays one contradiction.

“But that's where you're wrong. They did activate it. Michelle’s. Once.” Once.

The voice is haunting, ephemeral, a vibration of exotic particles that is so clear to Richard. Because it used to be his ability.

“I was there.” There.

Samson. Though not everyone would recognize the voice, those who know him do, and it would seem he's doing his level best not to make it clear who he is.

No need to spook anyone. More.


As soon as she hears the voice, Kaylee straightens off the wall rather alert and then instinct has her looking down at her feet. Her ability uncurls from itself seeking out the mind behind the voice. «Idiot.» She hisses at him mentally. «You are going to get yourself killed. Go. We can talk about this later.» And she personally didn’t want to explain it to his son, if something else happened to Samson.

Though also that curious part of her can’t help but latch on to what he says and ask, “Wait. You mean… beyond that time Richard is talking about? A second time it was opened?”

While the group of people have gone back and forth and revealed more and more information the seer has said noticeably quiet, an occasional hum escapes her and she twirls a lock of midnight dark hair, eyes twinkling at each revelation and new tidbit of information, no… she wasn't making any of this up. There's no vindication in that, why would she want to be right about the horrible things she has seen?

She didn't want to be but here we are. As the floor opens and a dialogue flows, her eyes flick between her friends and people she’s come to trust and love. Eve frowns at the dark times she feels are coming.

While that thought enters her mind an actual shadow speaks and the seer’s eyes narrow and her fist curls tightly in her lap. Dark red fabric of her dress rustles softly as the pale woman attempts to literally bite her tongue. Wincing at the effort, a low note emits from her chest and she closes doe brown eyes, “….”

Cheeks wobble and the father of one of her close friends hangs in the room and Eve takes a breath but that means her lips unlock and that means, “Hammy.” Fingers flex and she drags her nails against the surface of the table. “You filt—” The woman stops herself and whines in the back of her throat, “Oh a totally mysterious stranger that nobody knows has arrived to drop wisdom. Please Old Man.”

Quicker than it ought, a message arrives on Monica's device with simply:

Moni! Srsly?! major FOMO rn 😭
omg pix plz! 📷 👀 📷 i wanna see that 🔥 🍑 😂 💦💦

Luther's past experiences have finally reached an intersection and collided into the present. There's barely a few seconds that pass as the haunting voice sounds, and Luther's straightened up as if cattleprodded and staring at the middle distance of the air. He knows the voice of Samson Gray. Then, the security chief looks to Richard. He knows Richard's former ability. His reaction is predictable to those who know him. He steps away from the walls.

But few people here have seen Luther use his power; a couple of them (namely, the two aforementioned) have experienced the effect of it first hand. There's barely a warning, the flicker of lights dimming further as electricity pulls from the building, gathers to the man and he wills a reformation of the energy into a bright, brilliant light, a sustained silent flashbang, to burst out in the center of the conference room.

The sounds of the voice, the chattering of people - most of it Robyn ignores. It's when Eve pipes up that she pushes off from her spot on the wall. Anyone Eve knows and addresses the way she is this voice is a curiosity, and one that immediately puts the SESA agent on edge. But it's Luther stepping forward that really claims her attention.

The means are different, but she recognises the sights of lights dimming in the manner they do as Luther pulls in electricity. "Bordel," she curses under her breath as she steps forward. "Luther, wait-"

Eyes widen as she looks to him, and then to the centre of the room as light suddenly blooms outward blindingly - searingly even with her contact in one eye and the other covered. In that moment, she makes a snap decision.

The light in the room - or at least a good chunk of it as she makes her way towards the center, vanishes entirely. "Have we gone mad?" she suddenly shouts - not that anyone immediately around her can see.

The lights return a moment later as she turns her ability off, running a hand through her hair. "Guess the cat's out of the bag on that one," she murmurs, before looking over to Luther. "Mind telling me what's worth blindin' near everyone here?"

Wait, she did that too.

No two abilities are perfectly alike. Even when they seem identical, there are always minor, subtle differences. That’s why Richard knows who’s speaking the moment he does, the second he recognizes the way that haunting whisper rises through the room.

Because it’s exactly like his ability. Because it is his ability.

He freezes for a few moments at the sound, his heart skipping a beat, hazel eyes scanning the seats and the shadows as if to try and spot the form of his once-murderer… and then there’s light blossoming and then retracting to darkness like the single pulse of a heart, and confusion in the midst of the hall.

“Everyone, please remain calm,” he exerts, pushing aside that old fear for necessity, “There’s no need for anyone to panic— Luther, Agent Quinn, stand down— thank you for your vigilance but it isn’t necessary.” A glance to Huruma, one brow lifting a little. Help?

A beat passes, and then he says tightly, “Agent Black. I don’t recall inviting you to this presentation but— given your employment at the time I have no reason to doubt your experience. Please, do go on.”

A growl emits more precisely from the ceiling vents as light blossoms and dies, and the mixed messages come with only a hissed rejoinder that gets further away by the second.

“Sunspot.” Sunspot.

Then nothing more.

All of these people are brave; Zelda, on the other hand, looks up from her notes, then is nearly blinded by Luther’s light. She wastes no time in sliding right the heck out of her chair, finding a nice happy hiding place under the conference table as people suddenly start using their abilities.

Well, this is exciting.

Huruma is lost in thought when it comes, the ripple under the pond. She pulls her mind away from Benjamin Ryans and his lost years, leaning forward and head swiveling around to pinpoint the source of the voice. Her worries get crammed into a mental box just before Luther steps out to do his thing- - only to be thwarted by Robyn.

Huruma doesn't see the look Richard gives her, as she is shaking the light from her eyes. But she doesn't need to see it. She gets the message.

Rather than sink back into her seat to watch, Huruma pushes herself to her feet and steps away from the chair. She doesn't do anything else, but the gesture is a clear one for Richard.

Her ability pinpoints the shadowed man almost immediately, but she is careful not to give it away. There is a very large amount of guilt for keeping this information from her friends and especially her Head of Security.

But she has reasons.

The flash has her cringing, head turning from the source. There is a moment of panicked worry, but when she still feels the old man’s mind, she lets out the breath she was surprisingly holding. Though she doesn’t fully relaxed until the voice and mind fade away.

A look to the stage and her brother, Kaylee gives a little shake of her head if he looks her way. Mr. Gray has left the building.

Perhaps surprisingly for people Richard didn't mention to stand down is also lowering her hand with a keychain and a…laser pointer, hanging from it. Alia stays quiet however, even as the computer driving the display starts whirring harder.

It takes Lynette a few moments to relax from her spot against the wall. She’s watched Luther use his ability hundreds of times— but not since the war. Something about feeling him gathering electricity puts her back in another time and she needed those moments to force herself to relax. She’s going to need to call her therapist after this. And not for the reason she thought she would. Her hands slide through her hair and she looks between Luther and Robyn. She doesn’t ask anything, as it would only echo others. And she’s not entirely sure she would sound at all calm at the moment.

Monica watches all this with lifted eyebrows. Outside, she looks like she might have been watching a show put on for their entertainment. There are only a couple people here that could sense that inside she is quite the opposite— coiled and ready to strike. But she’s used to the press of her ability, that urge that comes with knowing she could act, so she glances at her phone instead and smirks at the messages. There’s a look, like maybe she is planning out how to indulge her friend… but the temperature in the room keeps her from sneaking in an inappropriate picture.

She does have manners. Sometimes.

I’ll fill you in later, promise.

And then, a moment later:

Maybe tomorrow ;)

"Sixteen people crossed over." Asi says, voice cutting through the tense air. "At least one of them are here in this room?"

She stays where she is, leaned back against the wall. Between the government agents, Raytech security, and everyone else willing to leap up to address the irregularity, she figures everyone else has this one under control.

Besides, being visibly on alert would take away from being able to arch an eyebrow at Richard questioningly.

Shouting, explosions of light, and suspicion. A hell of a meeting to inform people of the way the world works. Cassandra, sitting in her spot by the wall, glances up quickly when she’s pointed out as a primary source, her eyes wide as she looks from unfamiliar face to unfamiliar face. If it needs to come out, she’ll explain how she actually is a primary source, but for now she remains silent.

Or mostly, until the blast of light happens.

When Luther ‘goes off’ in response to the unrecognized - at least to Cassandra - whispers, she makes a tactical decision and dives beneath the table next to her. Thankfully the nice tablecloth shields her from anything too terribly blinding, and Robyn’s ability keeps things from getting too out of hand, but the little trails of light that follow fast movement in her vision will take a couple of hours to wear off.

She peeks up from beneath the table once things have started to calm down, rubbing one eye with the heel of her hand, shifting to sit in her chair again once she’s retrieved her fallen notepad and pencil which, sadly, has a broken tip from the exodus to hide beneath the table. If they had let her keep her sidearm, it’d be out, but that would probably cause even more difficulties. She keeps a tight rein on her emotions, maintaining a calm exterior even though inside she’s panicking and wanting to run to somewhere with less people.

Did someone say my na— ” Sera starts ask, peeking her head in through the door, only to see the tension in the air and slowly back out, shutting the door behind herself with wide eyes as she does.

As things seem to calm down, Zelda quietly ventures out from her spot beneath the table, glancing about with wide eyes. Quickly, she composes herself, reseating herself and smoothing her suit down. It seems that Raytech has some interesting security breaches.

Chaos. Absolute chaos. Jared moves to step toward Richard, halted by the hand of the giant next to him and remaining where he is. Kaylee's query perks up the lawyer's metaphorical ears. Because that information, which the cloud of shadows seems to confirm with what the old man can only assume is a project code name, could be really important to know. The blinding flash, however, renders him immobile for concern of stepping on or tripping over someone and causing injury to either himself or someone else. The spots dancing in front of his eyes guarantee that he's not jumping into anything here.

The aforementioned 'giant' has had far too many exposures to the likes of flashbangs not to at least start to react to the bright light that begins to apparently birth itself in the middle of the room. After Atticus takes just a moment to keep Jared from moving into the midst of what could be a less than safe location before moving. Even with the partial flash blindness, Atticus has more than enough of a mental picture of the area that Richard's in to just be there with a thought.

No rushing of wind, no popping of air, no ruffling of clothes to mark the man's passage. Instead, he's standing a step or two behind and just slightly to one side of his principal - perhaps having caught the 'stand down' before jumping - or simply thinking that the light and it's cause might serve as a distraction and he should be on the other side and ready for … whatever.

Either way, and even in the relative 'calm' afterwards, Atticus remains on post as a silent shadow for the man that hired him.

All the yelling and excitement has caught some attention from outside the meeting room. There’s a teenager, paused in whatever errands have her wandering the halls to peek in through the open door. That wondering look is sent up to Sera next when she starts backing out. The girl watches, all silent, when the receptionist lady backs out of the room and pulls the door closed.

That makes it a thousand times more interesting.

Ducking by Sera, Squeaks wraps a hand around the door handle and opens it a sliver. Then a teeny bit further so her head fits in. Shoulders and body fit through next, so in a quick second the intern has fully let herself into the meeting. Still all quietly, she nudges the door closed and wanders deeper inside for a better look at what’s happening.

Through all of this, Delia is stunned… and still munching on popcorn. She's not familiar with Samson, she doesn't know the voice, the name, or why people are in such a panic. Between bites, she darts a look at Huruma, then a squinty eyed glance to Luther and Robyn, and after swallowing, she lets loose a breathy "huh…"

Shit got real.

Thank goodness for the secretary though, when she starts Delia opens her mouth… but the door is already closed by the time the dreamwalker has time to shout the word, "Sandwich." Which, in retrospect, seems like the worst word to yell at the secretary after the light show that just happened.

Instead of standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, Robyn grumbles to herself as she makes her way back over to the side of the room - though this time, she makes her way over to Luther, offering him an apologetic smile. "Sorry," is what she offers when she's closer to him. "Instinct took over. Didn't mean to overstep boundaries." Well, she did a little, but she feels bad about it in retrospect…

Though more because she's outed herself as having her ability back, in a fashion, more than anything else.

As the door opens again, no head immediately visible, Asi turns slightly to see just who's sneaking in now, her arms unfolding. A child? There were plenty of interesting and somewhat overeager guests in attendance, but she doubted children made that roster. She doesn't reach out to stop Squeaks — this isn't her briefing, after all— but does let her attention linger on the teen who sneaks into the meeting. She eventually looks over to Zelda, shoulders lifting in a shrug as she emerges from underneath the conference table.

Zelda briefly makes eye contact with Asi, shrugging. She isn’t used to people using abilities around her — she’s from England, where people are scared to be disappeared if they do anything too flashy. It’s all a bit unnerving — but interesting.

Brown eyes find the child, and Zelda can’t help but let an eyebrow arch, turning to peer thoughtfully at Richard. She’s definitely going to have a chat with the man, because now she’s curious about everything.

Luther doesn't expect the interruption of light as it blips out like the flick of a switch. Not knowing the source, though, the man looks even more tense and readies a followup strike that's in want of a target. So when Robyn shouts, the security chief twitches, barely registering the SESA agent before she's on the receiving end of an unfortunate zap.

The security head swallows back that urge, blinking hard at Robyn as the lights come back. Then, as Richard addresses the intruder, Luther shoots an incredulous stare at the other man. Agent what? his expression seems to say. About that moment, Luther snaps a glare back at Robyn, not echoing the agent's smile in the slightest. And then he silently, abruptly turns and storms away from the woman for the conference room doors. The lights flicker once more, pulling to the security chief as he nearly runs into Squeaks slipping her way into the meeting. Even the girl gets a hard look from him, but he doesn't bother her.

Luther yanks the door open, leaving it to shut on its own pneumatic joint's power, and as it does he can be heard simmering through to the security radio lines about a perimeter check, all access points.

Marlowe's reply alerts on Monica's phone again. Either she's not working on a project, or Monica's texts may have distracted her focus.

Aww cmon sharing is caring 😜

But in the next moment and message she adds, unaware of the events unfolding:

grrl u betta ❤️❤️ be safe 💋
don't 😴 out k 😉
bet he's wearin blk/red lol 😉😝

Rasheed has been watching and listening patiently, covering his eyes during the flash of light, and overall just trying to unpack the mountain of history and ridiculous interactions happening right now. "Auntie Hooms, is this your life?" he suddenly asks out loud, breaking his silence as he finally decides to try and add some sanity to things.

"I've studied everything I could about time travel, everything that was available to me. It's a field I'm uniquely equipped to handle and address. Over the years, I've occasionally noticed strange things here and there, time displaced objects or people. It's something I'd call rare, but it's happened." He crosses his arms, looking at and primarily addressing Richard, which serves as addressing the entire room by proxy.

"2011 is when things seemed… the most odd." He knocks the table once with his knuckle. "Back in November of 2011, it was like someone briefly kicked reality in the teeth, something I never felt or experienced before or since. Listening to you talk about divergent timelines, other dimensions, I don't know if my ability can functionally tell the difference, and I don't know if what happened in 2011 is at all related to this, but I wanted to lay my cards out on the table."

He looks around at everyone, one by one, then looks to Richard. "I'm not here to out anyone, but I know when people have been recently time displaced. It's like they're out of sync with reality, like when the audio doesn't quite match up to the video. It's an effect that wears off over time, but people and objects like that stick out like a sore thumb to me."

Huruma is stony silent as faces she recognizes and doesn't murmur in a stirring of emotions. Confusion, much of it. Luther's anger is a red pulse as he stalks off to man the perimeters. Samson is gone, however, confirmed from Kaylee's gesturing. Her name- - or some form of it- - pulls her attention to Rasheed. Upper lip pulls back in a half sneer, at nothing in particular. "Yes."

This is her life, yes. For better or worse.

Rather than go back to her seat, the tall woman remains standing, arms crossing and eyes flickering upwards in passive inspection of her field, now spread wide. She doesn't expect to feel what she searches for, but it is an assist nonetheless.

Rasheed's remarks on one year in particular coaxes out a small, low laugh. Richard can handle that one.

Mostly, the looks that go her way are ignored. Squeaks stretches onto tip toes for a look past a shoulder until Luther’s suddenly right in front of her. It’s the look she gets, and not the nearly being run over, that has her flinching and slinking aside. If she knew he was inside the room, she probably would have followed Sera instead.

Which would mean she also would have missed whatever that guy is saying about time travel.

Quiet as she can be, the teenager tucks her fingers into her pockets. Some of the people she passes are given a passing look, full of polite curiosity. But the seriousness of the room keeps her normal plethora of questions in check. For now. Eyes pass over Delia and the popcorn, and Robyn she recognizes as well as some others. As her head swivels from one side to the other, she eventually finds that open chair that Sera had left and sits in it herself. Then she turns her eyes up to the front to watch just like everyone else.

As the confusion ripples through the room like a wave, questions are asked, and positions are shifted, Richard brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose briefly. Breathe in, breathe out. Control the situation, Richard, he tells himself, his hand then swept out to one side, “Well, I suppose we’ll never know what our mysterious guest wanted to tell us, so we’ll just have to move on. As for your question, Miss Tetsuyama— “

He smiles faintly, “Records and memories were scrubbed. How could we ever know?”

The sudden presence of a teleporter appearing behind him is left unmentioned and unreacted-to. That’s the man’s job, after all.

“The events of twenty-eleven we’ll get to shortly, Agent Mustang,” he says with a nod to Rasheem’s words, starting to get inertia back, “It is absolutely on the docket for this evening. Let’s make it out of the eighties first, because this is important.”

“The Company discovered something they couldn’t handle. Adam Monroe, an e— expressive with unmatched regenerative capability that may have lived a hundred years— or several hundred, it’s hard to say— referred to it as the devil,” he states severely, “This may sound ludicrous, but as far as I can determine this expressive had the ability to modify genetics on a whim and was also possessed of an ability that was memetic in nature, spreading through mere knowledge of it.”

“It was less a person than a force of nature.”

The name Adam Monroe causes Delia to snap to attention and straighten in her chair. The popcorn, the sandwich, the drinks are all forgotten about as she listens. Once Richard pauses again, she quickly raises her hand high in the air to grab attention.

“Adam Monroe the Nazi?” She asks, without waiting for Richard to acknowledge her presence. “We’re talking about the Nazi, right?” She needs to be clear on this one.

Glancing toward Eve, her eyebrows knit toward each other while her eyes get a little bigger. What the hell, Eve, what did we do?

"Yes. That Nazi. Though honestly it was more opportunistic…" Huruma answers Delia before Richard has the chance, her arms remaining crossed. Her eyes flick to Richard. "He turned three-hundred and seventy-seven in September, by the way."

"I've been looking for Adam Monroe, to get answers about a possible time travel related case." Rashed looks over at Eve almost immediately, but remains quiet after that.

Alia finally shows something other than surprise at mystery guests. The name Adam Monroe apparently inspires a mix of mild distaste combined with what looks to be a murderous intent. Alia however frowns. “… Memetic self spreading with genetic altering?” She frowns, then gets very big eyes a moment. “… self power manipulation?” That’s her best guess anyway, because the alternative is that we have ANOTHER bloody Sylar on the loose. And we have enough of those as it is thank you very much.

Asi's attention is already firmly on Richard and his explanation, so it's Huruma's interjection that causes her head to swivel instead. She leans back against the wall again, phone fished from her pocket. She crosses her arms before her again, hand still on the phone as it lays in the crook of her arm now. Her expression returns to something more measured as she asks, "And what exactly drives you to spread knowledge of something that gains, spreads its power through others knowing about it?"

She sounds patient enough, unless Richard or anyone else were to make eye contact again. Acknowledging the existence of superstrings, and by acknowledging potentially tempt someone to play god? That's one thing.

Making public a devilish 'force of nature' whose ability spread through learning of it? Her disapproval is plain. "Ideas are wildfires that can't be easily extinguished. One would hope you have a distinct purpose in mind for bringing this to light." She hadn't intended on being the heckler at the back of the room, but this was alarming information.

“Not enough accurate detail to infect. Need actual direct first hand knowledge.” Alia clarifies in a oddly clipped tone. It is simple and to the point. “… otherwise, already be soup.” The Technopath grumps at -that- thought.

"No," Delia is firm when she answers Huruma back, a little more emphatically than she should (maybe). "What he did was opportunistic my aaaahhh-unt Fanny," words changed as she spots the wee teen at the table. "You have no idea what he did. What he did to m— what he did to those people. If anyone is the devil, it's him. He probably calls the memetic thing devil because it's competition."

She's terrified and anxious, her skin has taken on a pallid color and her hands now feel very clammy. There's only one other man on earth that can make her feel this way and it's not Agent Black.


A worried glance is sent after Luther as he storms out, it takes a lot not to follow after him. Even more so when the name Adam Monroe reaches her ears and her stomach gives a painful twist. Her breath catches and she looks at the door….

At least until a heckler speaks up in the crowd catching the telepath’s full attention. Blue eyes turn to look at Asi and even as pale as she already is over the discussion, Kaylee steps away from the door and into a much more visible position. “Excuse me… “ She doesn’t know the woman, but the question name is left there out there, and yet unsaid… as well as a slight bristling. Already on edge in a large crowd of minds, it’s easy to do right now.

“I don’t know if you listened to the radio lately.” Kaylee’s voice is calm, but there is a stiffness to it. She’s at least managing pleasant, even though temptation hisses unhappily at the edge of her mind. “Or maybe heard any strange messages crackling over the radio that sounded tailor made for you?” Hands spread motioning to the crowd, picking up on the ones that have, vaguely pointing to them. She can hear you. “I know that voice and experienced it, even before that broadcast. What you heard was real. Whatever this thing is… It’s already out there spreading quickly and after that night, it’s going to really be picking up speed. That is part of the reason why we are here, we need help and unfortunately that means spreading it a little more to get the help we need.”

Kaylee’s attention finally shifts to her brother, giving him a forced smile, and motions to him, “Sorry Richard. Please proceed.”

Scooting in her seat, Squeaks pulls her legs under her so she can sit up a little higher. It’s easier to see what’s going on that way. Her head tilts slightly toward a shoulder as she wonders about that name. Adam Monroe isn’t one she’s ever heard, and her eyes widen when it’s implied that he’s older than old. A glance even darts off to Huruma when she gives a more exact age — never mind that he was a Nazi — someone that old probably has a billion stories. “Primal,” she whispers while getting comfortable on her heels.

“We have to talk about it,” the teenager thinks out loud. It’s not very loud though, and probably not meant to be heard too far. But she falls quiet again when Kaylee starts talking, and she covers her mouth with a hand to keep anything more words from coming out until Kaylee is done.

Then. “I heard it. On a video.” Squeaks angles a look, vaguely suspicious of all the grown-ups in the room. “But I think we need to know and talk. Because if we don’t we can’t know how to stop it or …even understand it.” It’s the same thinking she used before, when she talked to Eve about it. And with all these strangers finding out, it just makes more sense. More brains to make ideas. “Because… Because if it’s all kept secret and it shows up? Then… then we’re left scrambling and scared without ideas or answers.”

“Coward!” She screams at at the retreating shadow as everyone dived, Eve grabbed a pair of eclipse viewing sunglasses and cracks a wide smile at her comrade in arms, “Hot Hands you's a spicy. So Bright and Shiny.” There’s a twinkle in her eyes at Delia and she dips her head, yes girl that one. Rapping her knuckles on the table as Richard gets into more of the meat of the situation the seer leans in over the table, eyes still masked by the sunglasses she wears, “Very good young one.” A pointed look in Asi’s direction after Squeaks delivers that last bit of wisdom, “If we need redaction… then we've anyway and it's out there, reaching for us. Richard isn't speaking jabberbitch.” Waving her head in the air, a toss of the dark mane falling to the middle of her back.

“I've gotten to meet it. More than once. It was in ancient times, the time of the samurai.. it was inhabiting a young woman.. The power that it holds? It wants. Out. Everything Richard says, it's true… for Adam.” Eve’s eyes stay decidedly away from Monica's while she says that name instead settling on Huruma and Kaylee. Adam's former girls. “Well.. he's moving around us.” That much is obvious to some people in the room. “Dreamy and I took a dive into the mind of an old ass motherfucker and let me tell you.. Nazi is right. Hydra and Heisenberg, lots of science fairies. They wanted to give his specialness to another. His blood—” she stops and Eve blinks as something hits her. A flick of her gaze veiled by thick eyelashes to her wrist and a prominent vein that is there, momentarily shaking her head it might seem like she lost train of thought. Not unusual for the seer.

“There are few leads on him. Praxis Heavy being one of them.” The other.. that particular piece of the puzzle she was still noodling with. “If you find anything out about Praxis.. spot a snooty blonde immortal around. Do let me know.” The glint of white fang as Eve tilts her head to regard the people in the room. “If this thing can remake us in its image, that might be the endgame. A world where everyone is gifted.” Eve can't say she doesn't want to live in that world. She can't say that at all but not at the cost of her friends lives, none of them.

Huruma doesn't answer Delia. The truth is, she knows a lot more than she lets on. But she is past that stage of her life.

She does, however, acknowledge Delia's fear with a silent pressure of mental warmth, easing a reassured cloud around Delia's shoulders like a comforting shawl.

White eyes watch Kaylee as she speaks, pupils shifting away when she begins to talk about the voice. Squeaks' words are truer than Huruma would like to admit, as are Eve's, as far as it goes. Her eyes go back to Kaylee, silently projecting and hoping that the telepath picks it up without effort. « I heard it. The voice in the radio. »

There is a faint discomfort with the thought, and it seems to simmer and roil for as long as Eve continues speaking.

“Thank you, Kaylee— and to the point, Miss Tetsuyama, we do not know enough for anything we have to risk you being infected,” says Richard with a slight shake of his head, “So don’t worry, you’re safe, for the time being— “

Eve, on the other hand, may be fucked.

He holds up one hand, “Alright, Eve— everyone— let’s back up a little bit, because if we keep bouncing all over the place we’re not going to be making sense to anyone who isn’t recording this and going back over it with a fine-toothed comb for hints later. I know linear is hard for precognitives, but…”

A moment’s pause before he adds, “I’d like to observe for strictly legal reasons that I did not mention any particular corporations in connection with the aforementioned Nazi, however. Miss Mas is not an employee of Raytech Industries nor does she represent me in any way.”

Clearing his throat, “So. We don’t know much because nobody does. The Company somehow utilized Michelle LeRoux’s Looking Glass technology in concert with certain abilities in order to literally banish this entity into the… nothing between superstrings. Then they redacted several years of memories from the entire Company. Every single one of them. They altered the memories of hundreds of people to hide what happened. They even erased Adam and his partner Joy’s role in things, convincing everyone he’d been imprisoned by them for decades instead of working alongside them, because in the end he was working with this enemy.”

“And for a long time all of that was quiet. Then, we come around to twenty-eleven.”

Jared Harrison cannot help it; he has to cover his mouth to stop the sudden grin that wants to creep across his face. Very well done, he observes silently. Rubbing the corners of his mouth with his fingertips, he smooths that rambunctious grin into submission in a neutral expression. And here he thought that set of instructions went in one ear and out the other for the younger man as if Jared were the adult in a Charlie Brown cartoon. So proud that Richard was paying attention! RayTech doesn't need a lawsuit.

Mention of 2011, however, banishes all amusement from the lawyer's features.

"So if I learn about this thing, erase my own memories, got it." Rasheed decides, right before eating a handful of popcorn and intently listening when 2011 finally comes up.

After recovering from the scare given her by Luther and his ability use, Zelda’s pen has been going rather wild with notes about…well, everything that has been said and done so far. Her head is spinning a bit, but this is all very informative, to say the very least.

Informative and weird.

Monica listens to all the talk rushing around the room— alarmed questions, knowing comments, all of it— but she also seems to be keeping up a conversation on her phone as well. There’s even a few moments where she leeeeans her chair precariously back in an attempt to capture a picture of Richard’s excellent tailoring. It’s absolutely about sartorial appreciation, honest.

Never say I didn’t do anything for you.

Marlowe, of course, also has great appreciation for fashion, so a picture accompanies the message.

The warning that he’s about to turn the discussion toward that specific year has Monica dropping her chair back onto four legs. Not too many people know when or how she lost her arm in order to get her fancy, bleeding edge replacement, but Richard is certainly familiar.

“We can speed run through this part, right?” The question is presented as a joke. There are very few who could see through it.

Against the back wall, Lynette runs a hand over her face. November eighth seems to always have been plagued with horrors, but that particular one was worse than most. She doesn’t want to talk about it. Or hear about it. But she stays put, only folding her arms in discomfort rather than leaving or tuning out.

“Education,” she says, to Asi’s point and Kaylee’s reply, “is the only way we win. You can curl up and plug your ears if you’d like, but whatever this thing is, it’s already moving. We haven’t even set up our pieces yet.”

Nestled beneath Kaylee’s hair, a small, warm body shifts and adjusts its foothold on her collar. The sparrow flexes its toes, then its wings as it settles back, tucked against her throat. She feels the patter of its heart on her skin. Senses, too, thoughts churning beneath the surface: uncertainty, anxiety, fear.

'I don't know if you've listened to the radio lately' is met with a raised eyebrow from Asi. As someone far removed from all this, it comes as a surprise that listening to the radio could be considered required reading. Kaylee's explanation, coupled with the additional testimonials, is enough to satisfy her. When Richard speaks again she only shakes her head slightly to herself but keeps her peace. It wasn't herself she was worried about.

The screen of her phone lights up against the crook of her arm momentarily before she inclines her head to acknowledge Lynette's point. If the entity had either escaped or re-entered conscience of others in '11, then those who would stand against it had seven years of preparations to attempt to overcome. "You'll have to forgive me, I did not come prepared for Mr. Ray's brand of dramatics." Asi offers by way of apology to the others who've corrected her, her gaze on Alia in particular.

“I’m going to gloss over a lot of what happened that day, because there’s no purpose in dragging up that much… pain for a lot of people in this room,” says Richard with a slight shake of his head, “Including myself.”

A faint almost-smile to Monica’s words as he catches her gaze, then looks back out across the room.

“The plan of the Institute’s director, the plan he’d always intended, was to build a machine to carry a message to the past— a message he believed would change all of reality, because he believed time was linear,” he explains with a shake of his head, his tone scornful for the man being spoken of, “The machine went off, and further was complicated by the collapse of a gravitokinetic on site into a small singularity. We thought nothing happened.”

He grimaces, “We were wrong. In the years since, we’ve been receiving radio broadcasts from other worlds— some people have been having visions, and even objects have fallen through. The strings are coming closer together, and that same entity has been reaching through to try and escape. As my sister mentioned, many people heard their voice during an overlap of radio signals with another world recently— during the town hall— and others have experienced similar if more personal things. It’s been getting worse, and unless we figure out what to do, I anticipate they’ll escape their prison sometime soon. Like Eve said. It wants out.”

“On a less existentially threatening but still absolutely terrifying note,” he adds, “We received a warning from one of these timelines that their Georgia Mayes had won the war there, and was working on her own Looking Glass project with her eyes on our world.” A glance over the room, “I don’t see Sarah Connor here, unfortunately, to handle that sort of thing.”

There’s a long pause, and he clears his throat, “Sorry. I wanted to get out all the, ah, bad news at once.”

“Does that mean there is good news?” Lynette asks, dryly. She lets out a sigh and steps forward toward the table, bracing her hands on it before she speaks. “Further complicating matters, we have people that need to come through. So we can’t just… find a way to cut the timelines off from one another and call it a day. Even if it were possible, the same thing that is letting this entity reach us is what will let us save people from being lost and misplaced.” She may not have entirely accepted the notion of other versions of herself, but she can set the strangeness aside for the sake of helping their travelers make it here.

Skipping over the details earns Richard a grateful smile from Monica, and she settles back into her seat again.

“Good to know Mayes is evil in more than one world,” she comments, as if there’s comfort to be found in that somehow. “Do we know where she’ll be looking? We could put up a really offensive painting for her to look at.”

No. The voice in Kaylee’s head is neither Sibyl’s nor Eileen’s. It isn’t a voice at all. The avian telepath’s feelings manifest as ideas that prickle at the forefront of the other woman’s mind. Too dangerous, it urges. Don’t.

"Of course time isn't linear. You can't really directly interact with the future because technically it doesn't exist yet, but the past exists because it's already happened. The future is just… possibilities. From where we are right now, lots of possibilities exist. And while those possibilities might be able to interact with us, we can't necessarily directly interact with them." Rasheed leans his elbows on the table, looking to Eve, then back to Richard again. "Time travelers might disagree with me, but they can only really move through time, they can't manipulate it. Their understanding of how things are is valuable, but it's still limited."

"So, how do we stop interdimensional war and save your friends? Or are we here for something else?" He stares down at the popcorn, as if that might be the 'something else'. Then he looks back up at Richard and adds, "I'm willing to help however I can, on the condition that the exact details of my ability be kept confidential. So…" He motions his head around. "Not exactly willing to tell the whole room. I don't know most of the people here and some people don't exactly inspire faith in their honesty."

He glances over at Eve again.

After a time, Monica’s phone receives a new message to accompany the picture of Marlowe’s face, a straight selfie of her looking like she’s just jealous. The frown isn’t serious, rather Muppet-like.

why am i not there 😭
damn look at that one

Some time in the commotion, the conference room door opens again to admit Luther back into the room. The man doesn’t look any more ticked off, but he’s notably warier and, if possible, more alert and checking the darker corners (and ceiling vents). He’s also gained an actual sidearm rather than having been unarmed before. But otherwise, the security head resumes his post against the main entrance.

“That is a very here and now centric point of view,” Lynette comments to Rasheed. “But from what we have seen, there is no the past. There are possibly infinite pasts, just as there are infinite futures. And nows, too. Interacting with this specific universe’s past may be a more difficult target to hit than you’re assuming. Borges was writing about this phenomenon in the nineteen-forties.”

Sorry, the physics lesson sort of happened anyway.

aww, don’t be that way
I’ll get you a pic of the adorable robots before I go. <3

Monica glances at the room, lifting an eyebrow at Luther’s reappearance. The weapon is noted and she’s suddenly sad that she didn’t bring one herself. Never mind that she would have had to surrender it to get in here.

There is a slight shift of Kaylee’s head, almost unnoticeable; as she listens to bird perched in the shadows of her hair. Something in those unspoken impression, has her brows dipping a little. She couldn’t believe she was going to say this… clearly what she was hearing from the bird and the constant worrying of some of the men in her life was rubbing off on her.

“I—” Kaylee trails off for a moment, as Luther steps back into the room. There is a glance his way, before she says out loud. “I need to say this. I think we bring them back, if and only if we can bring them home without putting our world in more danger, then I’m all for it.” Too much has happened to worry her about what lay between worlds. Too much. There is a significance to those spoken words, that only Richard and maybe even Luther will understand. «Lest we repeat or I guess you could say… continue the sins of our father.» is what her brother hears after.

Licking her lips with sudden anxiety and unable to meet Richard’s eyes or even look Jared’s way. This was the first time, she’s really put herself out like that, possibly opposing her brother and friends on such a big thing. “If that which should not be named” Yeah Kaylee really called it that, “wasn’t out there it would be one thing, but if we can’t open the way… If together we can’t be one-hundred percent sure we can stop it, than it might not be safe to open it.”

The older man's expression was already solemn and pushing into that sort of neutral that happens when people want to keep their reactions to themselves. When Kaylee speaks up, Jared's blue eyes pivot to her and his demeanor remains calm. There is a long moment where he seems to be considering his words carefully and then he turns his gaze to the front of the room.

"She's right, of course." It may not be what Richard expected to hear, or it might be exactly what the younger man expected. His tone is even, no hint of an argument. "It's a given that Elisabeth herself would tell you that her life is not worth risking everyone else's. I assume that you're taking that into account as we move forward, though, as it's a known hazard." He has clear and obvious faith in the younger man.

There are only a few people in the room who might know exactly how difficult that was to say aloud, but Jared made a promise the day he buried his daughter. It included protecting the man he now thinks of as his son along with the rest of the Ray siblings. Whatever the older man wants, however badly he wants it… not at that cost. And his gaze meets Richard's and reflects the agony at agreeing.

“I wonder why it wants out.” Squeaks again thinks out loud. She isn’t watching anyone in particular, and even the upward moving arrows on the screen have grown boring. But she has been listening, and wondering about all of the things being said. “And why is it so dangerous.” Besides being mysterious and creepy. “Just because the dinosaur guy says it’s the devil doesn’t mean it’s true.”

Sliding her legs out from underneath her, she swings her feet while letting her gaze wander again. “How come it’s locked away?” This question is asked more like she’s talking to the whole room. “And what’s everyone heard them say? We might only be hearing part of a conversation or… maybe parts they’ve heard before. Like memories?”

Scooting forward a little, the teenager lifts her hands in a shrug. “I know what I heard was scary stuff, but… I think because the voices were scary. But also I don’t know what it means from what it’s saying. Maybe what it’s been telling everyone is …like parts of a puzzle.” Her voice still holds notes of thinking as she talks, giving ideas instead of staring at the worst parts of things.

When Luther finally returns, Huruma takes it as a silent cue to retake her seat, which she does. This time she sits with tension up her back and a rigid set to her jaw. Popcorn she was sharing with Delia was forgotten when Samson(?) reared his head.

"There are few things I would chance the world for… and so I feel Kaylee has it right. We should not start things, but finish them." The dark woman links her hands across her lap in an effort to keep herself grounded. The turmoil moving off of Jared is palpable, and for a time she watches him from across the room.

Squeaks may be friend of friends and terribly darling, but Huruma still fixes her with a skeptical stare. "What I heard felt rather personal." Huruma's mouth purses. "And the spider never wants the fly to think it is in danger."

“I don't work for Mister Cardinal no, but he wishes I did ok.” The gleeful grin crossing her lips makes the sunglasses on her face even more comical. Eve drags her pale hands through her hair before tying it back into a loose ponytail, gaze flicking to Squeaks and then Luther and Richard, Huruma and Kaylee. Her friends, “If it blinds you Young Squeaks and robs you of your gift then that might be a dangerous thing dearie, no? The very notion that a being that can walk among us and shift our very genetic nature on a whim and does so freely?” Eve’s not sure there's a world where that isn't dangerous but Eve is also covering up ideals from times long past, change them all. Reverberates in the seer’s mind.

Eyes find Kaylee as she speaks her peace, slowly drinking in each word. “They are coming whether we assist them or not. Sadly I don't believe any of the other rivers have been able to stop them from doing so. They open the way.” The Other Otter, Pizza Boy and Liz. Her hands now under the table grip her knees and she wears a pained smile, “And it is here already, seeping through the cracks. It will get in, the question is whether we can destroy it for good. Instead of thinking of ways to leave our family in the wind between worlds, I think we should come to the fact that we have no choice but to ensure their safe passage. We must be better than those that came before us. Look at the lives they sacrificed in order to just… temporarily banish it? The paths left broken and cracked like eggs on Sunday morning.” Shaking her head from side to side Eve looks upset, “I think among us we have the means to do this, it's not the first time people at this table have done the unthinkable.”

Eve’s eyes search each of the people in the room, They are coming. “They were fewer in number and in power though their reach was great. I just don't think we should be so ready to give them up if it's hard. Besides, two Otters might be better than one.” She says the last bit like it makes any sense at all, to most at the table it wouldn't but Eve’s eyes find Lynette and she holds her gaze.

Robyn's lips thin as she listens to the exchanges, arms crossed in the wake of Luther storming off. She had been intent to stay quiet after her little display earlier, but both of Kaylee and Eve get glances from her. With notable bit of hesitation, she lets out a long sigh, stepping from the wall. "We must do better is easy to say," she offers with the slightest hint of bitterness in her voice. "Particularly when we have a fraction of the resources The Company did, nor anyone who has dealt with this before."

Shaking her head, she taps a finger at her chin. "And if they're coming back, no matter what we do?" She spreads her hands in front of her, as if to say, what's the point of this?. She eyes Richard for a long moment, remembering their last conversation. "I think I agree with her," she remarks with a motion to Squeaks. "We need more evidence. Proof. Not indecipherable video and-" A dismissive wave up towards the crowd. "Adam Monroe." The name name hasn't pinged entirely in her memory as one she's heard before. "I don't disagree about all of this being disconcerting, but- if we jump to conclusions without more we may make worse mistakes."

Cornflower blue eyes flit from one face to the other before Delia finally stands from her seat, grabbing her bowl. "Eve's right…" The Dreamwalker is probably one of the few people in the room that can say that without inwardly cringing. " they’re coming no matter what we do. This isn’t Stargate, we can’t just close the portal. My dad used to say, hope for the best and prepare for the worst. So let's do it." She pauses and glances over to Squeaks, studying her before turning back to the room in general. "We need to give the kids something to grow up in. Just like our parents tried to do for us."

"I heard two voices," she shares out loud. "One of them said I was so much more than meat. The other one told me that when the time came, I would do the right thing. I don't necessarily believe that the enemy of my enemy is my friend.. but if Adam is afraid of it…" She ends in a shrug.

"Interacting with our specific past isn't as insane as you might think. There might be infinite pasts and infinite futures, sure, but I have plenty of reasons to believe that paths only fork in one direction." Rasheed offers to Lynette, but listens to everyone, trying to make sense of their concerns. He does look to Robyn a few times, since she has been his partner on occasion, then he turns his attention back to Richard. "Do we know what the primary hazard of this thing is? If its power primarily comes from being memetic, I might be able to help with that. But as far as what you can't, should, or would do about your friends returning, or about literally any of this, I can't really tell you. All I can say is that I'll help to the best of my ability, with what I know about the subject of time. And try to keep the world from exploding."

Alia takes a moment to gather her thoughts, before leaning back, “Memetic secondary hazard, method of entity reconstituting after fatal blow. Primary hazard: ability to -alter human genetic structure at will-, includes SLC-E. Giveth, Taketh Away, Totally Change, along with what makes us, us.” Alia pauses to consider this. “… If they are coming, then we want to ready. Perhaps negating them on entry?” Alia pauses, then shrugs.

The more you strain to listen, the louder the voice becomes. Eileen's consciousness flutters in close proximity to Kaylee's like wind passing through leaves on a crisp autumn morning. It carries with it a promise of change — and not necessarily the good kind. Not for the trees.

Isn’t a coincidence. Tell them.

Asi remains lapsed into silence as the back and forth intensifies between the others. Unlike them, she didn't have a personal reason into the Looking Glass allowing others to enter this timeline. Though hearing just how many of them did was eye-opening. Her attention returns to Richard, quietly harboring a thought to seek him out again after this all was over. Him, if not several others here.

A low roar of questions, observations, commentary, and arguments fills the hall for a minute, and Richard lets it work its way through - reaching down to accept the glass of water back from that ever-helpful quad-robot heeling at his side and wet his lips and throat again. It’s my mother’s sins I’m worried about now, sister dearest, he thinks, slanting a wry look over towards Kaylee, But I catch your meaning.

The glass is finally returned to the robot’s grasper, and the executive clears his throat— and the perceptive might catch a sharp look slanted Eve’s way, warning perhaps— before speaking to the room again, “Alright, alright, I know you all have questions here,” he admits dryly, “I don’t have all the answers, and— that’s the point of this meeting. I don’t have to flit around in the shadows gathering information anymore. We don’t have the resources that the Company did, Agent Quinn— but in some ways we have more. Just depends on what direction we’re looking at it from.”

“First point before anything else, do not try to listen to it, do not try to talk to it,” he states firmly, “I understand some of you might be curious, but in this case curiosity could literally kill you, or worse— and this is me saying that.”

“Second, we have more proof, and for those of you affiliated with larger organizations I am more than willing to share it in more formal meetings with people that have the authority to throw resources behind the effort,” he says with a particular nod towards the governmentally-affiliated in the room, “We’re working on technology to detect dimensional breaches as they happen, but we may need the help of the central government to move from ‘technology’ to ‘implementation’ - assuming they believe us at all and don’t dismiss me as a complete raving lunatic.”

He wouldn’t blame them. He would be skeptical of himself too.

“The point of this meeting is as an offering of information. I’d like to meet with people more privately for more— plans of concrete assistance, tactics, and negotiations, at later dates, after you’ve had time to think about this and talk to your own people.”

“Lastly, as— much as we love those washed up on the shores of the never was,” he says, voice softening as he tips his head towards Jared, “We need to focus on defending our world before we can work on getting them back.”

He pauses, then adds, “As an aside, if I even attempted to hire you, Eve, our PR branch would lynch me.”

Huruma settles into her seat, arms loosening as she listens to the rest of the room bandy back and forth. She seems unsettled, a rarity, but it seems that it is one of those times where it is warranted. How do you fight something you can hardly think about, much less not see?

Delia nearby earns a considering, furrowed look for her half-suggestion. Enemy of enemy is straightforward enough, isn't it? Huruma rubs a hand along her short hair, teeth grinding some. Still, she leans over to Delia with a measured stare, volume lowered for the redhead alone. "It is best you do not go after him. Alone, in any case.." If you'd take anyone, Huruma would certainly be preferable, she means. "You could be right, though. The real world does not frighten him, but I always felt he seemed intimidated- - nh, threatened- - by the idea of the intangible…"

As Richard finishes his lastlies and asides, Huruma sits back up with a distant look to him. What a crazy mess.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t dangerous to look for answers,” Squeaks says quietly and to no one in particular. She knows how scary it is going into the unknown, and lots of times the answers aren’t ones you want. But she closes her mouth instead of saying so. The grown-ups probably know that too. Her lips fold in and she clamps down on them with her teeth just as she slides her feet out in front of her. Half slouching in her seat, one of those feet starts to swing idle, toe lightly dragging against the floor.

"I'd be interested in helping you with the technology to discover dimensional breaches." Rasheed almost leaves it at that, before he holds up a finger. "I'm not a tech guy or a science guy, but I get the feeling that dimensions and time might be pretty similar, and I think my ability might be helpful for experimenting with stuff like that."

Nodding at Richard, he adds, "I just need you to provide Popeyes."

«Seems he understands that,» Kaylee comments to the sparrow, with a touch of wary surprise. Thankfully, goes unsaid. “We do need answers, Squeaks.” She gently addresses the teen. “You are right, but we need to tread lightly and with extreme caution. This is one of those things where we have to figure out the where and how that will keep everyone safe. Plus, avoid unleashing something that might be pretty horrifying. ” There is a silent apology to the sparrow for her wording. Shifting tactics for talking to a kid. “It’s a time when better safe than sorry is a motto to live by.”

Which is rich coming from the mouth of this particular adult and Kaylee knows it, glancing at the ones that know her.

Richard’s thoughts brush against the mental walls of her mind, Kaylee’s head bobs a bit in understanding with a look his way, «I am glad we are at an understanding.» Though she is not completely convinced.

There is also silent agreement to Huruma’s words, avoiding saying it cause of the twist in Kaylee’s stomach at just thinking of the immortal. It forced her to take a deep breath and warn the sparrow. «If they get too deep into talking about….. Adam.» The name is quickly thought of at the bird and clamped down on. «I may have to leave. I’ll stick it out as long as I can.» A reminder to Sibyl of the thing that brought Kaylee into Eileen’s life, if she even remembers that.

Throughout all of the presentation, aside from that brief moment of panic that prompted Zelda to fling herself under a table, the British Yamagato representative has been studiously taking notes, observing all of the conversation in silence and writing…whatever it is she’s been writing about all of this. Notes for her bosses, probably.

However, as Richard gets to the last bit of his statement, Zelda suddenly stops writing her notes, her pen still pressed to the paper of the notepad as she fixes a steady look upon the man, her mouth pressing into a line. It’s barely noticeable unless one knows what to look for, but there was definitely a flinch there.

After a moment, her eyes turn back to her notepad, and she writes another little note with a slight frown on her face.

Through this all, Cassandra, as herself and not as a SESA representative, has been taking notes as quickly as she can. So many people here she doesn’t know, and even then, two of them were only met a few times before - Huruma only once, the day before. She inwardly hopes that this whole meeting won’t affect anything, even though she’s sure this is probably going to dictate a lot of the goings on for the next few months. She sighs softly to herself. Pages of notes. This will need to be passed to the higher-ups. An entity that infects those that try to communicate with it. A potentially fatal, communicated communicable disease. Wonderful.

“You know what I can do, Mr. Ray.” Cassandra finally speaks up, straightening a little in her seat. “I’d be willing to assist with finding out the past of these dimensional breaches, if you’re able to find items that came from those places. Just keep the pennies few and far between - I’m still recovering from the memories from the one our mutual friend discovered.”

“You know you want all of this up in all of this.” Waving her hand around the room and tipping her head back to stare up at the ceiling and spin slowly in a circle as Richard gives more information. Technology, Eve doesn't stiffen as usual. Science Faeries.. she hadn't killed any in a while.. no no this was a different time Gilly said. “Yes yes it is.” Murmuring absently to herself before Cassandra announces herself and Eve pops her eye open to survey the young agent.

“Hey, pssst. Backwards! Hey! Pssst! Sister Backwards!” Whispering hotly over to her Sister Seer, “I'm gonna bounce over to you soon, there's a thing. You can backwards it up and I’ll lean in.” It's said as if there's a private joke between the two sensitive women but no, she's just Eve. “It's uh… imperative to the case at hand.” Yes. Yes that sounds right.

The texted squee that floods Monica's message screen tests the message character limit. It's full of hearts, stars, a rainbow, kisses, and then cuts off with a simple 🤖.

Meanwhile, Luther continues to observe and listen, an unrelenting glower set into his expression. But so long as nobody's coming to fisticuffs over the the topics, and the Rays appear to be unharmed, he stays put near the exit. The security head's gaze bounces between the company officers in particular, watching the siblings' interaction with interest. But not too focused, as he checks a glance back up to the ceiling vents. Just in case.

A long exhale escapes Asi after she notices a trend in the back-and-forth regarding others lost on 'distant shores.' She has the feeling any responsible notions would go out the window the moment they saw a direct path between them and their loved ones. The question remained how much business of hers it would become. She was here in the States for a distinct purpose — joined the meeting out of curiosity only, and a lack of anything better to do on a Thursday evening. "So what do you propose doing in the meantime?" she ponders, mostly to herself. She doubts the question even needs asked.

‘Sister Backwards,’ as she’s been dubbed, glances over to Eve at the whisper, taking in what is said before turning her attention back to Richard. She does lift a hand, motioning the dark-haired woman closer, so she’s not having to stage-whisper across the room to communicate, interrupting everyone else with what she needs to have Cassandra do.

“I do appreciate the offers, Agents Mustang, Baumann— I’ll be in touch with you both, no doubt, but please make sure to report this to your superiors so they’re aware of the situation. I’ll be happy to meet with them regarding this situation,” says Richard with a tip of his head in a nod towards them, and then looks out across the others.

“Keep your eyes open. If we get any glimmer of anything going on, if more of those damn whispers come out of your radios, if there are any auroral disturbances,” he shakes his head, “I don’t know what we’re going to do yet, but— tell your people, and get ready for whatever the hell’s coming down the line. We’re going to need each other.”

A brow lifts as he looks over to Asi, “It’s possible that Ms. Nakamura might have some insight on the matter, given her father’s involvement in events.”

“That’s… well, pretty much all, here,” he admits, “If anyone’s got any last minute questions, otherwise— you can set up appointments with Sera, assuming she’s actually at the desk outside.”

"If I actually come across this Entity, I'll try my best to keep myself from staying… I guess infected is what we'll go with." Rasheed starts to toss popcorn into his mouth after that, adding, "I'll keep in touch."

It takes the sound of Richard remarking on the end of time spent for Huruma to come back to herself; her thoughts wandered quickly after Cassandra's words to him, hand to chin and back flat against chair. She takes an initial stock of the room when she looks up again, pale eyes sweeping from one end to the other before she stands. A lingering look moves between Richard and Cassandra, still a relative stranger to her. And so that is why only Richard will see that flinty edge that the dark woman gets when she is planning.

Huruma takes her coat and slings it around to slide it on in one motion, shaking out the arms and giving a last look to Delia, and the rest. Richard gets a somewhat terse, "You know where to reach me." as Huruma heads for the door. "Good night." It's about as good as a goodbye as they'll all get tonight.

Her face a bit stern, Zelda finishes whatever she’s been writing in her notes, and pulls out that Yamagato-issued phone of hers, tapping the screen a few times. Then, she’s standing and slipping both notebook and phone into her bag. A quick glance around, and the woman’s face softens briefly as she meets Cassandra’s eye — but the gaze doesn’t linger, with Zelda in full-on professional mode at this point.

She fixes one long, somewhat irate look at Richard, before turning to slip out, quite intent on gaining access to and waiting for him in his office for further discussion.

There is a touch of confusion, brows furrowing a bit at her brother. If the bird hadn’t been tucked up close against her neck, Kaylee might have turned that look it’s way. An apology however is sent it’s way. Over what, that is between the woman and the feathered hitchhiker.

Then her head tilts back to look at the vent. «I hate to ask, but would you mind checking on the old man?”» The thought is directed at the bird. «His motives were well placed, but I think he forgets the harm he has caused others.» But he’ll still be cranky about it. The corner of her mouth ticks up a little. «You can warn him that, I’ll try to go out to see him and find out what he wanted to say.» Oh boy, if any of her friends knew……

Speaking of, Kaylee’s gaze drops to where Luther is standing, «I have a few things to attend to here.» There is a tick, before she asks with a touch of amusement, as she again addresses the mind within the sparrow, «I know I’m asking a lot tonight, it’ll be far faster than this damn cell network, but let Joseph know not to wait for me for dinner? I have a feeling I’ll be a little late.»

So many pages of notes. Cassandra tucks it away in her bag and pulls out her cell phone. “You know how to reach me, Mr. Ray. I’m sure we’ll be in touch shortly.” She rises to her feet and puts on her sensible jacket, heading out to the street to catch a ride, sending a quick message to SESA headquarters. Things will have to be discussed.

"Never did get a damned sandwich," Delia mutters under her breath as she watches people load up and move out. Casually, she saunters over to one of the punch bowls full of popcorn and lifts it up, intent on carrying it clear out of the facility. Halloween is coming and candy ain't free. Popcorn, however, is (at least today).

She doesn't bother making a much needed appointment on her way past Sera's desk, she'll get a hold of Richard in her own way.

It likely won’t be until later that people realize their phones have a new contact added, or, rather, their SIM card, for those who brought one. Most have a number for a voicemail box for Richard. Asi however, ends up with that, and another one, simply labeled ‘D.Crypt’. Alia it seems has some things she wishes to discuss above and beyond the boss’s list of things to do.

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