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Post by BijuuGuy on Oct 21, 2023 0:14:16 GMT
 The Triskelion. A marvel of architecture. At least to the ones who designed and built it. To most others, it was yet another gray construction in a sea of dozens around Washington D.C. Yet another, which got its name from a particular shape or concept. But this one was in the middle of a river, which was definitely bound to make all the difference. Granted, it had a purpose for being where it was. The extra space and convoluted layout left aside, the Triskelion was what ARGUS ostensibly called its headquarters. In truth, ARGUS' top operatives and management were in more than one base of the organization. They moved around and stayed put when needed, depending on the situation. The very heads of ARGUS were seldom seen in one location at the same time. Extensive measures were the bare minimum, no matter the occasion. Safety above all. It was perhaps one of the reasons why ARGUS had maintained its status and reputation as the nation's most capable branch of homeland security. "Research" in their acronym didn't always land under the definition you'd find in a dictionary. Naturally, their operations extended beyond the US borders, though rarely publicly acknowledged. The Triskelion itself, however, was the most strategically sound location in terms of politics and public relations. Its proximity to Langley, the Pentagon, and most importantly, the White House, proved essential in establishing both the headquarters and ARGUS as a true branch of the US government. So, despite often not having the top influential figures present, Triskelion still constantly buzzed with the presence of high level agents and government liaisons. It also housed a portion of the organization's best kept secrets. Needless to say, none of that would be known or seen outside its borders. The Triskelion was a notoriously difficult place to get into, even as a visitor. Regular tours did take place, but what was actually shown was exceedingly little compared to what else the complex housed. The paths were pre-determined to the smallest detail and kept within a strict time-frame, so that nobody could gain a glimpse of what the shouldn't. Even then, visitors were required to sign NDA's, ensuring that no information got out. Whatever rumors spurred because of these measures were mostly ignored by ARGUS. They never gained enough traction or were so poorly substantiated that only a small portion of the internet actually took them seriously. That being said, the web was still regularly scoured by ARGUS' IT personnel. Paranoia was commonplace regardless of their seemingly airtight security. Inside the complex, the Triskelion became a maze of hallways, elevators and other paths. Getting lost was easy. Most operated on muscle memory, though the in-house guides weren't entirely useless either. Abigail Brand, on the other hand, knew the place like the back of her hand.
It used to be unusual, seeing Brand within the gray walls of the Triskelion. Her primary field of expertise laid beyond Earth's atmosphere. The former director of SWORD, now its Chief of Security, used to be on the Peak most times. After the Kree invasion, ARGUS (and by extension, SWORD) restructured. Brand wasn't pleased, to put it mildly. It's something she still scowls at, whenever mentioned. Afterwards, her experience and capabilities were deemed additionally useful by the government directly. Hence the sightings of her on the Triskelion becoming more frequent. Another liaison roaming the halls. Though this one had built a reputation of being... difficult to work with. Abigail trusted few people and liked almost nobody. She had her way of doing things and stuck to them. More often than not, she was right. Interrogation had always been one of Brand's strong suits. She was the bad cop everyone wanted when a solution needed a more stern option. Brand got results, which was what interested the President and ARGUS the most. Those results were what lead her into an interrogation room with a determined step. She held a file in one hand, a very thin one. The room itself was what one could expect. Generic, bland even. Gray tones, an uncomfortable cold light in the ceiling. A table, one chair on either side. Two-way mirror directly across from the desk. Her primary suspect was already sitting behind the desk, his appearance intensely non-descript. If an average Joe had to have a picture of reference, his would be it. Except his name was Vince and he was a janitor. Which rubbed Brand the wrong way immediately. Yet it was a tried and true method that had worked for years. Every time, it still seemed to either surprise people or have them realize their own faults for missing this possibility. Across from the door, Henry Peter Gyrich's traditionally displeased gaze was aimed at Vince, arms crossed, as he stood in the corner of the room. Brand ignored him for now. There was no love lost between them. She knew he was here for his own required reasons. She didn't care. Abigail let the thin file gently fall to the desk before she spoke. She didn't sit, but did stand near the table, right hand resting on its cool surface, eyes intently trained on Vince. "Vince MacMillan. I'm Abigail Brand. Glad to put a face to the data breach. You've been busy, huh? If it were anything other than accessing classified information, I'd name you employee of the month."Seeing no initial reaction from her suspect nor caring enough to wait for one, she pushed her upwards from the desk. Brand clasped her hands behind her before beginning to take small and calm steps around the room. "Your file is impressively lackluster. Sure, it gets you through all the necessary checks, but when you start looking closer? The inconsistencies stick out, Vince. Can I call you Vince?"Brand didn't wait for his answer. "Great. Janitors are rarely double-checked like that so you really don't have to provide much information. Kind of idiotic, if you ask me. But I'm not in charge of security and HR here."Her voice was and continued to be one of mild sarcasm, cockiness, and disdain. All carried by her signature dry- and sternness. "Now, I doubt Vince is even your real name. Though ultimately, what the fuck does your name matter, right? What matters is the matter of the classified information you accessed. That's not something a janitor should possess, don't you think? So why don't you just tell me who you're working for or with? Don't have to sit here any longer than you already have, Vince." |
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Post by swapgo on Oct 21, 2023 0:53:22 GMT
Someone who was accused of commiting treason shouldn't be this calm.
It was a fine run, after all, perhaps they should've named themselves "Vincent", the idea of someone legally named "Vince" didn't sound too far off. But hey, minutiate here and there, what if, after weeks of casing the building, duplicating high level biometrics, reprogramming the cameras, and getting their dailies in in the middle, they didn't trigger a honeypot and sent the entire building after him. It was so very bold of them to even claim some poor janitor commited the data breach. After all, the only device that security could confiscate off of him after the fact was a beat up smartphone that didn't have the compromised data, since all of his tools were beneath his human cocoon. Of course, given what little he could peruse before firearms were trained on him, these ARGUS guys have experience with dealing with this line of work.
She described him correctly. Brown hair, a bit undershaved, brown eyes, they spared no expense when it came to exploiting human biases to make himself seem incredibly hireable. He also made very little effort to go unnoticed, greeting the regulars when able, though he was more than keen to avoid the hurried crowd. "Flattering~", he got in a quick reply to the idea of commendation, despite Brand not desiring one, he was certain continuing to smile would only get him in more trouble, but if experience is anything to go by, trouble can overflow. His smile broke as he was given a question and no time to answer it, prompting him to tilt backwards and look away at the wall, or well, the irises on his eyes were pointed at the wall, he was tracking Brand pace back and forth in her venting just fine. He blinked and realigned his vision as Brand challenged his identity, he took a deep breath, and his smile returned as he exhaled, loudly, but shortly. "Why?", he paused for just enough of an instant for Brand to consider lashing back, before continuing, "I doubt you put much stock in my words when I say I did it because I wanted to prove it was possible, and or because I was curious myself", he said with confidence, a lunatic? A proficient liar? Yes. "I'll admit I know little of 'governance' or 'herding the masses' but there's some juicy victories in these files. Why not celebrate them? Seems like a waste to just shelve them in a cold server at the back of the most least interesting building in the block", he openly incriminated himself, which likely raised more questions than it answered.
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Post by BijuuGuy on Oct 29, 2023 22:39:57 GMT
His calm demeanor would've thrown others off, not Brand. Not with the preconceived notions and years of experience that she entered the room with. He could also bark. She wasn't convinced he had much bite, however. Though that was to be revealed. Brand's initial "venting" was largely due to her displeasure at having to deal with something like this. A task that shouldn't have been put on her in the first place, for the sole reason that the entire faux pas shouldn't have happened at all. It was an embarrassment to ARGUS, who so boldly prided itself on its security. That being said, she didn't miss the relative impressiveness of such a feat. It made the ordeal more interesting, at least. Brand made a mental note of that, something to be shelved for later. She still didn't want to be there, though.
Why?
The question intended to provoke, accented with a seeming smugness. Two could play that game.
"Using your real name would be both reckless and stupid. Or your ego is big enough for you to have thought that you wouldn't be caught. And well... here you are in cuffs."
The man being so cavalierly open about his charges set off alarm bells. Did he want to get caught? Everything he said, how he said it, his behavior, it was all done in a manner where it was believable. She knew people like that. Hackers, renegades, whoever. People with no regard to whether their actions were pinned to their actual name. People doing exactly what Vince had simply because they could. But she also knew that they had a larger reason, no matter whether they said otherwise. They were all cunning, charming people. A habit of the trade, perhaps. Vince embodied that role well, intended or not. A note of doubt echoed through Abigail's mind. She discarded it at a moment's notice. There was still something intensely off about him. But she would play along, while still being quintessentially Brand about it all.
She had stopped pacing at one point and now decided to actually sit across from him, looking him dead in the eye.
"Curiosity always has its reasons."
She was quickly provided one, even though it failed to satisfy. Perhaps she was looking for something more substantial that simply wasn't there. Then again, Brand had enough counter-intelligence know-how to question any reasonings.
"If you paid any attention to the world outside of these walls, you would see us surrounded by hounds and vultures. Starving, ready to pounce for any intel they could use against us. Because it doesn't matter how we phrase our "victories," they will fuck with us using whatever they can. Because to them, we are the enemy. Doesn't matter how you twist it. Most of them don't understand what it takes to keep Earth safe. Most of them aren't willing to understand. People want the world to be black and white, when it's all just shades of fucked up. And they can't handle that. They refuse to. Ignorance is bliss, Vince."
Brand entertaining the man's questions and statements wasn't the usual course of action. His words clearly stirred something within her. Despite her reputation and how she conducted business, Abigail Brand still continued to be an advocate for Earth's protection. She didn't pretend to be a "hero" that so many wanted her to be. But she got the job done. She could make the tough decisions, even if nobody appreciated her for it. Brand also needed to know anything she could about the man. Him voicing his possible convictions was a good start. She could also feel Gyrich's stare on her from behind. Their relationship was a whole other can of worms.
"Besides, you don't strike me as altruistic. So let's pivot. How did you get past our security? Your badge lets you access only so much of the facility. Go anywhere else, we would've been notified immediately. Yet there's no clear trace of your movements. Don't worry, it's only a matter of time before we do figure it out. It would be much easier if you told me yourself, though. Could lessen your sentence pretty significantly."
Abigail was never one to mince words. Though she had to quietly admit that whoever he was, he was an intriguing challenge. There were many questions still in the air. Brand was going to get an answer to all of them, one way or another.
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Post by swapgo on Oct 29, 2023 23:57:46 GMT
"Sure does. Sure does"
Ah, they brought someone with zeal and conviction, and not just hollow duty, that was quickly becoming apparent to Vince. Perhaps she does take stock of his words, seeing that she gave him a thorough spiel, and probed his honesty rather than hurl litigious threats. "Sometimes it is, sometimes it's doom. Shades of colors and all that", Vince rebutted, though he was eager to drop the subject as she wished to hear his story. "Well, how do I explain this in a way that doesn't sound dismissive...", Vince tapped his fingers across the table, quite unevenly, as if recalling a melody.
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Operation requires three different levels of clearance, however, every member of staff, from the lowest rung of the supply chain to the highest degree of administration, has to place their biometrics on the same input device. Arranging a trip to make sure that he was present to be near when each of them clocked in for the day was the work of weeks, including a weekend shift. After that, all he had to do was give it a tap with his lucky toothbrush to clone the most recently used biometrics, and save them for later.
It wouldn't be as simple as simply blazing his way through, if the system detected a biometrics check on an incongruent location, he was confident alarms would fire off. Carefully analyzing the footage of what little cameras he could compromise to make sure that the logins were feasibly from the current position of each of the cloned targets, he sketched a route through the Triskelion. Cameras had blind spots, his real arm would poke from within his human shell to tap the input device with his paintbrush, and to the surveillance team, it would just seem like the door opened for the janitor despite him not even raising his hand.
The difficult part was, of course, explaining his presence to any guards that were near the final stretch, however, all that took was knowing someone's birthday. That way, he could deliver a gift from the higher ups to one of the patrols. He loved baseball memorabilla, after all. That disarmed their suspicions for him to linger just long enough around the juicy data centers. After all, the final door opened for him, clearly he had clearance, however temporary, to be there and scrub the floors or something.
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"People left the doors unlocked. It was actually very convenient". Vince replied without much elaboration, he had proven talkative before, so this brevity seemed conscious. The worst part is, as far as the cameras were concerned, that's exactly what happened, which would probably only add to Brand's embarassment over her team's incompetence.
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Post by BijuuGuy on Nov 6, 2023 22:03:20 GMT
Was he stalling? He had already admitted to his guilt, what was left to hide? And now with his concise non-answers, it threw Brand in for a loop. She was rarely stuck, in that sense. Most would crumble under her direct interrogation. Then again, most who would sit across form her, already had an inkling of the person Abigail Brand was. The lengths she would go to. Nothing as extreme as some would expect, but her threats were seldom in vain. Despite the world order being the way it was these days, the possibility of facing the government's ire to its highest degree made them crack in a second. But Vince? To him, this seemed like a game. An experiment. And that's perhaps what puzzled her more than she cared to admit. At the same time, it fueled her drive even more.
His exceedingly brief explanation wasn't entirely wrong either. Both he and Brand knew that they didn't have much to incriminate him with other than him accessing the data. It was enough to convict him. That alone wouldn't satisfy, however. The how and why were essential. The cameras echoed his words, that much was true. Brand still didn't believe him. There was something more, always was. And Abigail felt like she wasn't digging deep enough. Or rather, she was halted from doing so. She didn't let her anger seep through at that moment, but it was there, bubbling.
"Hmph."
Her little noise of amusement(?) spoke volumes.
"You've got the charm down to a T, don't you?"
Brand took a more relaxed position in the chair. Resting her right arm on the back of the chair, flinging her left leg over her right, she made it clear that she wasn't in a particular hurry anymore. An unsubtle power move, one that would likely leave Vince unimpressed. She was invested now. Personally. Everything he had said, both the answers and those barely resembling some, were now considered a direct insult to her. She wasn't about to let that slide. The mix of anger, seeming relaxation, growing paranoia made for a mighty strange cocktail.
"You accessed rooms that required biometric data. Unless you made them open the doors for you or had someone working with you here, I'll assume you stole that data from them somehow. That's some hardcore tech if so, Vince. It's also most likely very illegal. And I don't believe for a second that your reason is some anarchy bullshit like "the people deserve to know." We've been over that already."
She wasn't expecting any of it to shake him. Right now, she was honestly just repeating what she had said before, with different words. She was looking for that one drop of expression, the slightest change.
"Humor me for a second. When, not if... When the might of the US government rains down upon you, what will you do then? You'll be locked up for the rest of your life, in a place where even someone with your talents, or whatever technology you have at your disposal, can't escape from. Sharing your one almost success story to whatever sad sack is sharing your cell."
As thinly veiled as the threat was, Brand wasn't done.
"Then again, this is treason. I don't think I need to elaborate on the harsher punishments. And I'd much rather keep you alive, surprising as that may seem. You give me what I want, I help you get out of this with most of your skin intact. I just need the how and why."
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Post by swapgo on Nov 6, 2023 22:26:44 GMT
"Can you claim it's illegal if you don't know what it is?"
Vince leaned forward and rested his chin on his cuffed hands. "Y'know I went to a magic show recently, it had an interesting appeal. At large, it's the charm of watching a mundane man perform improbable feats, and to me, the charm is in that first word, 'mundane'", his expression did not shift, it was less stoic and more uncanny. "But you can never know. Perhaps they cheat, perhaps they have some sort of mutation, or they reacted in some manner to a dangerous chemical when they were seventeen. Suddenly there is no illusion. I much prefer the illusion", he leaned back once more, it was another roundabout admission of guilt, if anything, though it was very ambiguous on which axis.
Vince fiddled with his nails while Brand elaborated on the severity of his crime. He seemed to smile and open his mouth as Brand suggested he hadn't succeeded, but she once again carried on before he could do that, it seemed like it robbed him of his smile, apparently he did not enjoy interruptions. "Well. I'll be vexxed for sure. My SSR pity timer should be up in three days. I don't think you have Wi-Fi in The Raft", he babbled on, was that his concern? "Lets see then. The how, well, as I said, I prefer the illusion, you can puzzle it out, right? It gives you something to show on your quarterly, consider all of this a pen test. As per the why...well", he gave it another dramatic think, and then laughed to himself, turns out, he didn't even have to lie.
"Turns out, the people deserve to know"
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Post by BijuuGuy on Nov 7, 2023 20:34:57 GMT
"I've been doing this for a while now."
Brand's tone carried a telling condescension.
She was robbed of a further rebuttal by Vince's following story. Metaphors abound. Sounded like an amateur philosopher, not that Abigail knew all that much about philosophy. Still, she made an effort to hear him out. Partly. She had noticed he wasn't a fan of her interruptions. She enjoyed the moments when she had managed to do just that.
"I hate magic."
She made sure to enunciate every word just enough to drive the point home before carrying on.
"Illusions are for those who have something to hide. I snuff them out. I figure out how they work."
Abigail could feel one of her hands slowly heating up. Patience wasn't her strongest suit, even if that's what she had tried to display. It was a natural reaction. A willful one, in all honesty. Her expression remained the same.
Vince did indeed humor her. Not in the traditional sense. What he said after, however, was more pertinent. There was a sudden sense of possible realization. In more ways than one. The first seemed to be that he was now almost looking forward to her finding out everything about him. The second harkened back to his talk about illusions. A pretty blatant admission, if one chose to pay attention. Parts of it clicked for Brand. She didn't have the whole picture, but she was fairly sure she had a solid foundation now.
His theatrics continuing, Brand adjusted herself to meet directly his eyes. Now exiting her brief relaxed stance and taking a more official posture. She placed her hands on the table, clasping them. As he was in the middle of his last sentence, Abigail made every effort to interrupt him.
"Yeah, great story. Riveting stuff. So, about the illusion shit. That's all you are, aren't you? Just smoke and mirrors. Hiding behind a nothing identity to get what you want. What do you want? I'll be blunt: I have no fucking clue. Every reason I could think of seems too 'mundane'. You've really managed to stump me there. Well done."
She took a quick breath before her expression changed to an inquisitive one.
"But the way you've done all this up to now. Assimilating yourself into our framework, stealing data, gaining access. Even the most well-equipped spies would need more to get where you got. Sure, it took time, but there was a... specificity to how you operated."
A knowing smile adorned Brand's face.
"I think, that you are something more than human. What? You gotta tell me. I have a dozen guesses and in this world, all of them could be true. It all blends together at some point."
That knowing smile was partly confidence, partly blowing steam up her own ass. She was doing pure guesswork now, but she had to exhaust every option before calling it a day. Brand wasn't going to leave the room without a resolution, no matter how spiffily scrappy and enduring her "adversary" was.
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Post by swapgo on Nov 7, 2023 21:49:42 GMT
They didn't exactly meant to lay breadcrumbs, but somehow, it felt satisfying that they did. They should take inspiration from that.
"An illusion that isn't translucent, isn't", Vince added, what good is an illusion if there is no visible attempt at a trick? At that point, you're just being efficient at deceit. Their language didn't quite have a word for it, as each form of misdirection was carefully broken down and specialized, but they liked the punchiness of the word Illusion. Vince sat quietly himself and watched Ms. Brand go off for a spell, partly because he had caught on that she figured out how to annoy him, and partly because he was in the middle of something important, something that, well, it was about time to draw the curtain anyways, the interrogator was dying for the showstopper, or was it the opening act, who's counting.
"Well, since you're interested, and it's been a while now, lets make a deal", Vince pressed his cuffed palms together, it was brazen to think he had leverage in this negotiation, but perhaps he wasn't incorrect. "I will do a magic trick, and depending on what happens, I will either add sincerity to my answers, or, I will tell you to stop wasting your time and put a bullet through my cranium. Win win, yes?". He offered. It suggested that there was a secret that he was willing to take to the grave, or whatever kind of posthumous process whatever he was did. "Don't blink", he didn't wait for permission, instead pushing his hand deeper into his chest. If Brand paid close attention, his thumbs were beginning to phase through it. He made an awkward flick of hands and pulled forward, and suddenly in his hands was.
A smartphone.
"Presto!", Vince exclaimed, it was perhaps the most obstentatious smartphone case she had ever seen, filled from corner to corner with decals and swag, a non-zero amount of which was immediately recognizable to anyone with a modicum of pop knowledge. It was also completely unlike the barren (but still expensive) device they confiscated from him earlier. Vince slumped back on his seat to glance at the screen, he seemed to vacantly gaze at it, yet there was something akin to motion behind his eyes. "Alright, good to hear", Vince pulled his hands back, seemingly putting his phone back in his front pocket, though it didn't seem to make space in his front pocket at all. "Feel free to take it from the top", he offered to cooperate, somehow, and for some reason.
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Post by Bixir on Nov 10, 2023 6:33:39 GMT
This was going to be a waste of time. Henry Peter Gyrich hadn't the slightest idea who or what this thing was. In his eyes, it didn't matter. It never mattered. These incidents were a threat to the security of mankind. That was all he - or Brand, for that matter - needed to know to make his decision. For reasons unfathomable to him, the decision was not his to make this time. Something about "being back in the field". The thought made the man scowl. He had been watching this exchange play out far longer than he would have liked. It wasn't like his contempt for Brand was unknown to her, nor that she felt the same towards him. They were acidic peas in a pod, burning both ends of this pathetic metaphorical candle. Then, their guest decided to give them a "hint". Gyrich was not impressed. This had been a waste of time. The man sighed, loud enough for it to be purposeful, and pushed his glasses up against his nose. "Are you quite finished?"It was not directed at Vince. |
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Post by BijuuGuy on Nov 11, 2023 21:08:38 GMT
It speaks.
Brand would've much preferred if Gyrich simply stood there as the mildly menacing inconsequential suit that he was. His patience was wearing thin, judging from the pointed comment. She wasn't going to say it, but he wasn't wrong. Vince had been running them in circles. Abigail didn't find it at all amusing. It was inconveniencing her and her efforts. But she was close to the truth. Vince himself hinted to it as much. So what he had said and done a moment before Gyrich reminding himself as a nuisance, was infinitely more interesting.
She looked pointedly at Vince, per his request. Pulling out a phone from his chest was by far the clearest confirmation that Vince wasn't just human. Though it wasn't as strange as some would've expected either. Regardless, it was an intriguing enough wrinkle that Abigail raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. The phone did indeed look much more decked-out than the other device. Or rather, more personalized. Him gazing at the phone almost sprung Brand into action, before he simply put it away and addressed her directly again. Closer to the truth, yet still too many questions remained.
"Had to take a moment to look through notifications?"
Not expecting an answer, Brand instead briefly turned her attention towards Gyrich. She didn't give him the courtesy of actually looking at him, rather keeping her eyes on Vince.
"Can it, Gyrich."
She couldn't bother giving him any more. Vince was the focus of her attention. She was on the cusp.
"Really neat trick and I guess that's not all you can do. So not human, then. What are you, Vince?"
Brand wasn't going to retell the events that got him in cuffs and sitting across from her. She had witnessed his "magic trick," entertained him enough. She also showed clear indication of not wanting to kill him, which wasn't in the cards in the first place. At least not to her.
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Post by swapgo on Nov 11, 2023 21:59:06 GMT
Vince gave her a tight slipped smile from his relaxed slump at the table, the last he would ever give her.
The man leaned forward onto a slouch, and was no more. There was very little spectacle to it, in a blur, the white from his uniform gave way to some sort of dark belladona and neon purples. Whatever it was was a whole head taller than its disguise, or rather, its head was a head bigger, and a nondescript, vibrant blob crowned this enormous cranium from each side, pulsing with light and swaying gently as if in a breeze. Two tails seemed to spring from behind the chair, though they were continguous extension of this alien apendage. They settled quite gently, curling around the chair's legs, a form of comfort, perhaps it could too be seen as a show of trust. The alien was also completely unarmed, unclothed even, at least, visibly. Given that they procured a human device from somewhere, it was clear that their sleeves full of tricks were somewhere in plain sight.
The alien creature simply smiled back at Abigail in silence, or was it a smile? Was it capable of doing anything but smile deviously with its jaw that seemed to encompass the entire girdth of its face, and with no teeth save from what appears to be vestigial tusks anyways? Brand asked a question, but they deliberately delayed answering, they didn't expect this being the first time Brand had seen a shapeshifter out herself in front of them, but it would let them know how much, if anything, humans knew about the Visien, more personally than what they could see in all that classified intel they could only skim. "Xehem. A pleasure", it spoke, they were, indeed, not very expressive with their face, but his strange appendages rippled with a tinge of blue as they uttered words. Their voice wasn't Vince's, but it was just as mockingly relaxed, somehow it was a better fit for this face.
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Post by Bixir on Nov 29, 2023 5:03:30 GMT
Instinctively, Gyrich reached for his gun. It was mankind’s primal response to this sort of thing, and in Henry’s experience, it had never steered him wrong before. He had suspected from the very beginning that this intruder had been an extraterrestrial. It was all they seemed to be nowadays. His features betrayed nothing, the man maintaining his bitter, nonplussed demeanor as he set his sights on the purple creature sitting before him.
“Shut it down, Brand.” It was spoken like an order, though he half-expected her to continue insubordination. Who was even the superior between them at this point? The hierarchy was so damn muddled these days. For Henry, it didn’t matter. There was a protocol for this exact situation. If she wouldn’t do her job, he was more than happy to do it for her.
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Post by BijuuGuy on Dec 6, 2023 19:59:42 GMT
At long last. The true face beckoned.
Abigail had to admit that she was a bit too willing to go along with Vince's play. Or rather, Xehem. It had been a while since she was given an actual challenge. It made much more sense now why he was the way he was. She hated this job sometimes. It was bound to sound corny, but moments like the one unfolding before her very eyes, were why she still held on to any semblance of extraterrestrial expertise she could've gained at a posting like this.
Xehem's transformation could've been described as something akin to body horror, were it not for its surprising, if not slightly macabre, beauty. Aliens had a habit for these types of things. Brand fully registered this new form. The various shades of purple and violet added interesting vibrance to the otherwise dull room. A shapeshifter indeed. An ability Brand was intimately familiar with, yet not with the type of extraterrestrial that Xehem was. Could've easily been another disguise. However, the two had enough of a rapport during their brief encounter that she was actually inclined to believe what she saw.
Before she had a chance to respond to Xehem's true introduction, Brand's ears perked up by the sound of Gyrich going for his firearm. Her face dropped instantly, an expression of frustration and annoyance taking the place of intrigue. She tilted her head towards him, his reflection mirroring back on her glasses. At the same time, she extended her left hand onto the table, just to the left so that Gyrich could clearly see it. Palm facing upward, her hand swiftly glowing a bright mixture of red, orange, and yellow. The power that gave Brand her namesake.
"For fuck's sake, put that away. You barely know how to use it."
Gyrich would undoubtedly take it as a direct threat. Because it was. She knew he wouldn't too anything. Too chickenshit and she had enough goodwill with the higher ups that her judgement would be favoured over his. At least, that's what she was largely confident about. Even Brand wasn't entirely sure of the hierarchy right now. Though she had done the heavy lifting. She got her hands dirty, so he could go and fuck himself.
Being sure that he would heed her words, she turned back towards Xehem. Brand brought her heated hand closer to her face, wiggling her fingers as the heat danced around them. In a second, she put it out and a sly, beaming smile appeared as she once again, gazed at the alien. As Xehem had been honest, so would she.
"Abigail Thanriaguiaxus. Brand isn't my given name. Gotta say, I like this form better, Xehem. Can't say I've ever met aliens like you before, though."
She examined him a bit further, trying to gain a semblance of familiarity. She got none. This was the first she had seen an alien like him. Curiosity flowed over her. The universe was a big place, yet even with her encyclopedia of extraterrestrials, there were always those that eluded both her and other experts in the field. Now, Abigail wasn't much of a scientist, but she did know her aliens. She realized that this must've been an inkling of the interest proper scientists felt when discovering a new species.
"But..."
Brand sighed. The only indication of slightly agreeing with Gyrich's implication.
"Your true nature notwithstanding, you're still charged with treason. We are under oath. Can't let you walk with just a slap on the wrist."
In most circumstances, that would've meant immediate incarceration or, if Gyrich got his way, execution. Brand had something else in mind. A way for her to honor her duty of keeping Earth safe and a way to not exterminate a seemingly rare specimen. Some would call her soft, naive, unusually optimistic. Brand would've said that she was pragmatic.
"However, I'm willing to cut you a deal. We know people who would really benefit from someone with your talents. You get to do what you're good at. But only if you hear them out. As well as with the obvious caveat that you surrender the information you've gathered. You get to live, make yourself useful, and won't be a pain in my ass any longer."
Abigail wasn't sure how convincing she was, but her confidence wavered little. She was fairly certain that Xehem caught all the subtle and unsubtle layers of the plethora of threats she had planted in her words. She didn't want to stoop to Gyrich's level, even though those two were more alike than each wanted to admit. Brand would walk away the winner, one way or another. Before she would hear Xehem's answer, she turned her head slightly towards Gyrigh once more, having a clear request.
"Call them."
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swapgo
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Post by swapgo on Dec 6, 2023 23:40:29 GMT
"Do it!"
Xehem tilted his head aside to catch a better glimpse of Gyrich, goading someone is often a better deterrent than asking them to stop. "We'll get in again before the autopsy's done", it added, even doing him the favor of discarding the possibility like he was, like a ton of alien species are, resilient to human-calibre gunfire. The alien reeled back as 'Brand' realized her namesake, seemingly hypnotized by the swirling flames to the point that their own snarls mimicked their hue and movement. Hey, it's one of those cool people. His line of work didn't get him any closer to meeting many of those yet, let alone personally. It's a good thing that the fiction they write in their sleep goes nowhere.
"Good to hear!", Xehem took this first encounter as a compliment, though he seemed to slump at the idea that she suddenly remembered that they were, in fact, in an interrogation cell, and they got caught because they opened a file with a funny name, wheeeeeeee. "Can't be treason when I don't work for you, then it's just espionage", they continued to nonchallantly admit to crimes, though they relaxed as they heard Brand's proposition. Their snarls fading from their green hue back to their natural(?) purple, and then fading into a tinge of pink as the alien avoided her gaze for the time being. It's a lot more difficult to give bad news bare-formed like this. "Well...I'd love to but uh, I can't do that...not in a way that matters anyways", Xehem leaned in, crossing his hands with whatever confort his shackles allowed them to. "I don't have the data. In the time it took for the red tape to clear, it had already been decrypted, translated, dropped off, and retreived", he further admitted to incredibly ridiculous and efficient means of crime, if anything, it might afford them a swift execution if the higher ups wouldn't abide. "The reason it's me and not Vince that's talking to you right now is that it's been reviewed, and we have determined you can be trusted. Ain't FOMO making me look at my phone, you know", they added. "I can request the data to be scrubbed from the archive as a sign of courtesy, I just hope you understand my life has no bargaining value. It's way easier the second time", they suggested with a challenging tone, raising their voice and their head towards the one-way mirror, Xehem let them know that they were the devil they knew, it was up to Abigail to convince ARGUS to stay with them.
"Sounds good, though!", Xehem suddenly jolted backwards, tripping their own chair and causing them to fall back, there was, however, no loud thud, the alien had fastened themselves to the table with his feet and made a more graceful descent, they just wanted to lie down for a second and rest their grubby heels upwards for a moment. "I'd like to meet them. It's a rare treat to be personal in this line of work"
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Post by Bixir on Dec 8, 2023 7:56:12 GMT
Gyrich sneered at Brand. In most circumstances, this was an aggressive gesture, but aggressive was the man's default state, so his demeanor tended to bleed together. He appeared unimpressed by Brand's bravado, and even less so by the creature's... but he lowered his gun all the same. He didn't put it away, though. He continued to sneer at the thing as it rambled on about the ins and outs of its apparent bureaucracy. It was all patently absurd.
Worse, Brand was talking about those people like they were neighbors. Worse still, he obliged her request. Maintaining that steely grimace, the man walked out of the room with a finger to his earpiece as he started to navigate the proper channels. They would be here soon... but he wouldn't be. Gyrich had had enough of this bullshit. There would be hell to pay.
Within the hour - it was exactly twenty-two minutes and thirty-four seconds - whatever call that had been made followed through. There was a brief knock on the door, followed by a pause. Then, the door opened, and two guests entered. Both of them stuck out like a sore thumb in the Triskelion, one more than the other, on account that he was a walking, talking robot. He was short of stature, but built wide, with bright blue "eyes" that quickly apprised Brand and Xehem. There weren't expressions he could make, so to speak, but his body language suggested a mild friendliness. The woman that came in with him... well, she was over six feet tall, and her face was more severe than Henry Peter Gyrich's. That was all most people ever got to know about Jakita. She preferred it that way.
The robot nodded to Brand first. There wasn't much love lost between them, but they certainly had a better rapport than he did with Gyrich. "Thanks for the tip." He walked over to Xehem, who in all likelihood was in the same position on at the table. He offered a handshake to... one of their appendages. It looked busy. "Do they do handshakes where you come from? Atomic Robo. Not a fed."
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