muse: another log!
Feb. 11th, 2003 05:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
coronaviridaeBusy, busy, busy! I think I'll be posting logs here, from now on, until I can slapdash a better page together.
Title: Strictly In Confidence
Date: 11 February 2003
Players: Abernathy (logging), Blues
Summary: Blues drops by for a little 'chat' with Abernathy, about Xiang's activities, and the Director's possible connections to the mad doctor.
Abernathy's Lair
The corner office lurking behind the door bearing the Director's nameplate is a forbidding place, as befits the man who holds executive power over Interpol and its troops.
Normally, the lighting in the room is kept relatively dim, to spite the large windows taking up two walls and overlooking Seoul's skyline. The blinds are usually drawn on those during the day, the office lit instead by subdued track lighting. Though it is a spacious office, the lighting lends it a closer feel, a feeling that is only enhanced by the spartan, dark wood furniture. Bookshelves line one of the two walls not taken by the windows, playing host to a plethora of books both old and new; an inactive plasma screen occupies the other wall, directly across from the desk.
A laptop computer and its power supply hold pride of place on the desk, and beside them, a small halogen desk lamp. Papers, crystal chips, plastic flimsies, and chip readers occupy their own corner of the desk, neatly sorted and stacked well within reach. Two high-backed wooden chairs face the desk; behind it, there is a faux leather and metal chair that lends the slightest air of intimidation.
================================== Tartarus ==================================
Message: 15/9 Posted Author
Arrested Scientists Tue Feb 11 Dr. Nathan Xiang
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shortly after the UN announcements of the arrests of scientists for 'illegal experimentation' are announced, a post goes up on the Tarterus news nets and public boards.
The clip is deceptively simple. It shows a man being operated on, cybernetics being installed. The nature of the cybernetics isn't clear, since the image is jerky and heavily edited with lots and lots of pixelation. There is only one clear bit of footage, when you see the face of the man being operated on - and it looks a lot like the Director of Interpol. The camera lingers for a moment, and then the screen goes dark.
On the dark screen, appears the following statement in Chinese: "I helped bring you back. Willing or no, you owe your life to me." The characters fade out to be replaced by the triagram and yin-yang symbol of Xiang in the familar burning red. Then the feed fades to black.
==============================================================================
Blues has arrived.
'Willing or not, you owe your life to me.'
An intriguingly simple phrase, for all the impact it had had on Abernathy's day. The Director of Interpol is in an ill mood, not the least of which was sparked initially by that little video floating around the Tartarus undernet. Even despite earlier efforts to get his mind off of things, a crystal chip -- labeled simply 'Tartarus' -- sits on the corner of his desk. Right where it is horribly visible, every time he pauses from reading over reports on his laptop and glances up.
Contrary to popular belief, that whistle does not -always- precede Blues' arrival. But there are times when it is useful. This isn't one of them. Silent as a ghost, Protoman lands behind the director's heavy chair, scarf coiling around his neck. "We need to talk."
It's fortunate that Abernathy has been strung-out on nerves all day. Falling out of his chair would be a terribly undignified thing to do in front of a visitor. There is merely an uncoordinated set of clicks as his hands clench unconsciously above the keyboard, a line of garbage text popping up in the report. Frowning, he selects the line of text, deletes it, and quits the program. "Oh? And what about?" he replies, tone blunt, as he puts the laptop's screen down with a firm *click*.
Blues can't help but smirk a little bit. Oh, yes. It feels good to do that occasionally. "About whether you can be trusted. I want to know about your connections to DeVry's little successor. Particularly the bits about you owing him your life. All of it."
Abernathy seems to take some issue with that; his frown deepens, slightly, though doubtless Blues cannot see it. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk and steepling his hands before his face. "That is something I don't speak about lightly." His voice is quiet, though not particularly antagonistic.
Blues smiles a little. "I have quite a few things that I don't talk about unless the other party in the conversation is dead. But in this case, I need to know. I will not allow another Landon DeVry, and if you know something that will help stop him, it's important." He then pauses, and beneath his shades his eyes narrow. "And if he has something that will make you help him, you are too dangerous a liability."
A brief, humorless bark of laughter meets these words. "He's not another DeVry. DeVry actually had /some/ interest in the preservation of the human race." Abernathy interlocks his fingers, gazing at some point across the office from him. "I take that to mean that if you don't like my answer, this will turn into an assassination, not just a friendly little chat." Faint, dry humor underlies those words.
Blues frowns at the implication that Xiang is a greater problem than he'd considered. "Let's just say that I have no interest in letting Xiang go free. For any reason."
"Then we seem to be on the same page," Abernathy murmurs. "So. Information. I have already forwarded what little information we still have on DeVry to the Repliforce and Hunter command both. I presume you've yet to see what I sent to the latter?"
Blues says, "DeVry is dead. This one is still alive."
"Xiang, of course," Abernathy replies, covering the slip smoothly. "I've been a little ... distracted, of late."
Blues frowns. Distracted. Sure. However, he looks down at Abernathy and simply lets it go. "..."
'Distracted' was putting it mildly. Abernathy pauses a moment, reaching out to pluck a different chip off his desk. It's proffered to the presence standing behind him. "Video clips of his creatures, and what little remained in his personal files once he was through with them."
Blues takes the chip in about the way you pick up a live cockroach. Then he places it in his armor. "I assume it'll be fascinating reading."
"Watching, mostly. I recommend against eating anything beforehand." A momentary grim spark of humor lights in his countenance. "What else do you need?" As soon as the chip leaves his hand, he interlocks his fingers before him again, eyes narrowing.
Blues says, "The truth would be useful. What's your connection."
Abernathy closes his eyes. Ahh, the expected question. Well, honesty was the best policy. "I served with the UN Security Force for a year before becoming a diplomat." His tone is blunt. "My training unit was involved in an accident. I was the only survivor with an intact mind. Unfortunately, I was also dead.
"I had no next of kin. My possessions defaulted to the United Nations. Apparently, they took that to mean my body, as well. Xiang was one of the surgeons responsible for putting me back together, as it were." Simple, really.
Blues hrns. About what he expected, really. "And did Xiang plant anything into you that could be used against you?"
Abernathy opens his eyes, gaze falling his hands. "That is a difficult question to answer. From what I've seen of his actions, anything and everything done to me could be a potential weakness."
Blues says, "Human frailty isn't anything new to me. Any -active- weaknesses? Planted charges, poison release, carcerands..." He isn't so much digging as checking his facts. "And if I make sure I can bring him in, you -will- keep him somewhere dark and deep, if not dead."
"A memory biochip." Abernathy's eyes narrow. "It's experimental technology, and part of his portfolio." A smirk creeps across his face, at Blues' second statement. "Oh, he will be dead. Believe me."
Blues narrows his eyes. "I see. I'll do some reading, then." He then nods. "I'll see about arranging his trip. I'll speak to you later." Then, with those words, he is gone, with barely a ripple of air to mark his passing.
facelessmuse
Title: Strictly In Confidence
Date: 11 February 2003
Players: Abernathy (logging), Blues
Summary: Blues drops by for a little 'chat' with Abernathy, about Xiang's activities, and the Director's possible connections to the mad doctor.
Abernathy's Lair
The corner office lurking behind the door bearing the Director's nameplate is a forbidding place, as befits the man who holds executive power over Interpol and its troops.
Normally, the lighting in the room is kept relatively dim, to spite the large windows taking up two walls and overlooking Seoul's skyline. The blinds are usually drawn on those during the day, the office lit instead by subdued track lighting. Though it is a spacious office, the lighting lends it a closer feel, a feeling that is only enhanced by the spartan, dark wood furniture. Bookshelves line one of the two walls not taken by the windows, playing host to a plethora of books both old and new; an inactive plasma screen occupies the other wall, directly across from the desk.
A laptop computer and its power supply hold pride of place on the desk, and beside them, a small halogen desk lamp. Papers, crystal chips, plastic flimsies, and chip readers occupy their own corner of the desk, neatly sorted and stacked well within reach. Two high-backed wooden chairs face the desk; behind it, there is a faux leather and metal chair that lends the slightest air of intimidation.
================================== Tartarus ==================================
Message: 15/9 Posted Author
Arrested Scientists Tue Feb 11 Dr. Nathan Xiang
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shortly after the UN announcements of the arrests of scientists for 'illegal experimentation' are announced, a post goes up on the Tarterus news nets and public boards.
The clip is deceptively simple. It shows a man being operated on, cybernetics being installed. The nature of the cybernetics isn't clear, since the image is jerky and heavily edited with lots and lots of pixelation. There is only one clear bit of footage, when you see the face of the man being operated on - and it looks a lot like the Director of Interpol. The camera lingers for a moment, and then the screen goes dark.
On the dark screen, appears the following statement in Chinese: "I helped bring you back. Willing or no, you owe your life to me." The characters fade out to be replaced by the triagram and yin-yang symbol of Xiang in the familar burning red. Then the feed fades to black.
==============================================================================
Blues has arrived.
'Willing or not, you owe your life to me.'
An intriguingly simple phrase, for all the impact it had had on Abernathy's day. The Director of Interpol is in an ill mood, not the least of which was sparked initially by that little video floating around the Tartarus undernet. Even despite earlier efforts to get his mind off of things, a crystal chip -- labeled simply 'Tartarus' -- sits on the corner of his desk. Right where it is horribly visible, every time he pauses from reading over reports on his laptop and glances up.
Contrary to popular belief, that whistle does not -always- precede Blues' arrival. But there are times when it is useful. This isn't one of them. Silent as a ghost, Protoman lands behind the director's heavy chair, scarf coiling around his neck. "We need to talk."
It's fortunate that Abernathy has been strung-out on nerves all day. Falling out of his chair would be a terribly undignified thing to do in front of a visitor. There is merely an uncoordinated set of clicks as his hands clench unconsciously above the keyboard, a line of garbage text popping up in the report. Frowning, he selects the line of text, deletes it, and quits the program. "Oh? And what about?" he replies, tone blunt, as he puts the laptop's screen down with a firm *click*.
Blues can't help but smirk a little bit. Oh, yes. It feels good to do that occasionally. "About whether you can be trusted. I want to know about your connections to DeVry's little successor. Particularly the bits about you owing him your life. All of it."
Abernathy seems to take some issue with that; his frown deepens, slightly, though doubtless Blues cannot see it. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk and steepling his hands before his face. "That is something I don't speak about lightly." His voice is quiet, though not particularly antagonistic.
Blues smiles a little. "I have quite a few things that I don't talk about unless the other party in the conversation is dead. But in this case, I need to know. I will not allow another Landon DeVry, and if you know something that will help stop him, it's important." He then pauses, and beneath his shades his eyes narrow. "And if he has something that will make you help him, you are too dangerous a liability."
A brief, humorless bark of laughter meets these words. "He's not another DeVry. DeVry actually had /some/ interest in the preservation of the human race." Abernathy interlocks his fingers, gazing at some point across the office from him. "I take that to mean that if you don't like my answer, this will turn into an assassination, not just a friendly little chat." Faint, dry humor underlies those words.
Blues frowns at the implication that Xiang is a greater problem than he'd considered. "Let's just say that I have no interest in letting Xiang go free. For any reason."
"Then we seem to be on the same page," Abernathy murmurs. "So. Information. I have already forwarded what little information we still have on DeVry to the Repliforce and Hunter command both. I presume you've yet to see what I sent to the latter?"
Blues says, "DeVry is dead. This one is still alive."
"Xiang, of course," Abernathy replies, covering the slip smoothly. "I've been a little ... distracted, of late."
Blues frowns. Distracted. Sure. However, he looks down at Abernathy and simply lets it go. "..."
'Distracted' was putting it mildly. Abernathy pauses a moment, reaching out to pluck a different chip off his desk. It's proffered to the presence standing behind him. "Video clips of his creatures, and what little remained in his personal files once he was through with them."
Blues takes the chip in about the way you pick up a live cockroach. Then he places it in his armor. "I assume it'll be fascinating reading."
"Watching, mostly. I recommend against eating anything beforehand." A momentary grim spark of humor lights in his countenance. "What else do you need?" As soon as the chip leaves his hand, he interlocks his fingers before him again, eyes narrowing.
Blues says, "The truth would be useful. What's your connection."
Abernathy closes his eyes. Ahh, the expected question. Well, honesty was the best policy. "I served with the UN Security Force for a year before becoming a diplomat." His tone is blunt. "My training unit was involved in an accident. I was the only survivor with an intact mind. Unfortunately, I was also dead.
"I had no next of kin. My possessions defaulted to the United Nations. Apparently, they took that to mean my body, as well. Xiang was one of the surgeons responsible for putting me back together, as it were." Simple, really.
Blues hrns. About what he expected, really. "And did Xiang plant anything into you that could be used against you?"
Abernathy opens his eyes, gaze falling his hands. "That is a difficult question to answer. From what I've seen of his actions, anything and everything done to me could be a potential weakness."
Blues says, "Human frailty isn't anything new to me. Any -active- weaknesses? Planted charges, poison release, carcerands..." He isn't so much digging as checking his facts. "And if I make sure I can bring him in, you -will- keep him somewhere dark and deep, if not dead."
"A memory biochip." Abernathy's eyes narrow. "It's experimental technology, and part of his portfolio." A smirk creeps across his face, at Blues' second statement. "Oh, he will be dead. Believe me."
Blues narrows his eyes. "I see. I'll do some reading, then." He then nods. "I'll see about arranging his trip. I'll speak to you later." Then, with those words, he is gone, with barely a ripple of air to mark his passing.
facelessmuse
