Feb 26 09:47:24 108 PA - Questions of Trust

From Chronicles

Feb 26 09:47:24 108 PA.

SEBASTIEN'S QUARTERS

It's above freezing! But nobody's told the snow that. Fat, moist flakes fall to snow banks below, though the air feels quite balmy. It actually holds moisture today. Will wonders never cease? Sebastien's asked that Gabriel meet him at eight thirty, and Isabeau at nine, giving the latter his home address. The apartment complex itself smells damp in the halls, likely due to children in wet, muddy boots scampering here and there after their first foray into the new snow. The apartment in question has taped to the door a post card. Predominantly brown, depicting a boy sitting in a train car next to a man. The boy has opened a gift from which tentacles reach at his face, the caption reading, 'That's some cephalopod, son!'

Thumpity-Thumpity-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-Thumpity-Thumpity-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-Thumpity.... this knock on the door, perhaps someone practicing their percussion in hopes of joining a band, will continue rapping on the man's door with his knuckles until the door is answered and opened. Yeah, it's Gabriel, and yes, he looks cozy and warm. Gloves and light overcoat are nowhere to be found, and indeed, his many-pocketed whiteish jacket is un-latched down to his navel. He looks like he's in a good mood, and as far as one might see out a peep-hole, he's whistling happily away.

"Alright!" comes Sebastien's voice through the door, and the lock rattles. It sways open a moment later, revealing Sebastien in a set of disposable hospital clothes. He's pale blue-green all over, baggy pants and tee shirt, with a white long-sleeve on underneath his blue-green top. They look lived in, and the lines around his eyes have set. Apparently the young man's been up all night. "Monsieur, the people around you keep all sorts of jobs. Myself, usually, I'd be going to bed around now, so ..." he smiles, "please, don't do that." He steps aside, waving the elder man in, and explains, "I asked Mademoiselle Isabeau here in a bit, so we have a brief moment to touch base. How much should she know?"

Gabriel can't help but smile. "Sorry. You never have told me what you do for a living, Seb. You're not a fan of "Wipe-Out" by the Surfaris? I'd ask if it were laundry day, but I'm not sure I'd like the answer. Sorry for waking you. Or keeping you up longer." He'll nod and smile politely as he walks in. After looking around and sniffing at the air, he declares, "Clean. Spartan. Looks like you really enjoy the boudoir? But you know, with a penis?" The older man then turns back. "Okay, seriously, I'm glad that you called in a friend. I need to know about this Bennet prick."

"For a living?" Sebastien replies, closing the door behind Gabriel. "I do little jobs with big paydays. Fifty, a hundred thousand credits a piece, and I may only get a couple a year. The rest of the time I volunteer down at the Hospital." He raises his eyebrows at the man, and smirks. "So when you chide me about failing in my duty, you don't see the balancing act. Perhaps I am, but if I throw my life away, who will replace me there?" He shrugs, and steps after the elder man, laughing. "Ah oui, bien sur! I don't spend so much time in the rest of the apartment. All I really need is ... that. If I'm going to relax, or hang out, or some such, I'll do it at a club, or at the gym."

"Interesting. You've moved beyond field medic, then? Perhaps going to become full-blow doctor?" Gabriel looks around stares at the small couch for a time, before once more raising his eyes to the other man. "I haven't yet figured out the allure of Harry's. Sure, if you're exercising and going through calisthenics as a unit, great. But why do I want to exercise with a bunch of smelly men, women, and people of indeterminate gender that I don't even know?' He then waves a finger at Sebastien. "You know, if you want to put on something more comfortable, I'm happy to wait quietly."

It's often some of the best snow when it's above freezing. Or at least, some of the best for making snowmen and for making other such similar things. Like snowballs. Yet neither of these particular things are on her mind, at the moment. There is, instead, a certain curiosity there for the purpose of having been called here. With a warm cloak wrapped about her shoulders, she makes her way to where she's been directed, not that she really needed the address to be given to her since she already knew it. Making her way along the hall, she glances briefly towards the doors before coming to stand before the one that belongs to Sebastien. Stopping there, Isabeau considers the possibilities for a brief moment longer, and then she lifts a hand to knock on the door.

Sebastien paces back, casually closing the bedroom door as he does, and running a finger along the top of the weapons rack to frown at his finger. "Not really," he muses. "I'm good enough to tend simple wounds. Sew lacerations, administer prescriptions, mop the floor, and occasionally even break up a fight." He smirks at that, and shrugs. "I'm not a doctor, but I do what I can. And no, I don't plan on changing. Once the pants come off, they stay off, and for the sake of decency I'm afraid --" he looks aside at the knock, and walks for the door. Swinging it open to reveal Isabeau, Sebastien grins. "Ah, my little stalker. Did you bring your pistols?"

As he doesn't know the woman, and has yet to be introduced, Gabriel simply smiles, bows his head slightly low, and states, "Hello," to the newcomer. Apparently he feels that it's no longer a 'good morning' time of day.

Isabeau raises an eyebrow slightly as the door is opened before her, and she inclines her head slightly towards him. "If I were a stalker, I would have been here more than once, and followed you more than once. But I have not, which makes me rather anything other than a stalker," the redheaded woman says, a smile touching at the corners of her lips. "Perhaps I did, but you did not specifically request for such to be done," she muses, tilting her head faintly to one side as she holds her blue-eyed gaze steadfastly to Sebastien. Her attention turns to the other man, and she inclines her head to him. "Hello," she offers, a smile touching her lips. Yet her attention returns to Sebastien.

Sebastien pauses, pursing his lips, and he runs his eyes down Isabeau's frame. Then he looks at her sleeves, peering back at her eyes, and he notes, "Well, you're not carrying the big one. Unless you have a storage compartment cleverly concealed in your bodice." He narrows his eyes, his blues meeting hers. "Unlikely." He snaps his fingers then, noting, "Keep at it. You're a little nervous. Honestly," he laughs, "I would be too. That little one doesn't exactly have a trigger guard. I know they say it's safe, but..." His eyebrows raise, and he whispers, "Stop fiddling with it!" Then turning to include Gabriel, he adds, "But that's not why I asked you to come here. I need you." He peers at Gabriel, and then back at Isabeau. "We both do."

The older man dips his head once more with a smile, though he apparently feels no need to repeat his greeting, or attempt to explain what it is that he's looking for to someone whom he doesn't even know. His snow gear is practically gone this morning. No gloves, no overcoat, even his light jacket is unlatched almost completely. Gabriel clearly agrees with the hour of 8:30am, and it agrees with him. He does more before 8:30 in the morning than most people do before they get off of work. Possibly. "Truth reader, Seb?"

The slender woman tilts her head slightly to one side at the mention about the larger weapon, and she inclines her head a touch towards him. Affirming the statement. She gives him a sidelong glance, then, and moves past him to step inside so that the door can be closed. "The last time I checked, my chest doesn't do double duty as a gun case," she comments, shifting her weight slightly. "I'm not fiddling!" she states, a flicker of temper rising briefly to touch her blue eyes. She blinks at his last words, one of her eyebrows quirking as she looks from him to Gabriel and back again. "What could you need me for?" she asks softly, her brow furrowing slightly. She knows the limits of her skills and abilities, and she hadn't really thought much about the face that they could be needed by someone.

Sebastien steps aside smoothly for Isabeau, smirking at her as he does. "Everyone does, at first. Even if they don't think about it. Just relax." He closes the door behind her, and waves her at the opposite end of the couch, and steps to lean on the doorway into the kitchen. Out of chairs, apparently. "We have a problem, mademoiselle. A man has asked us to do for him a job, but the way he asks -- the restrictions he places our equipment, the limited information he provides, the flavor of his character -- lends us to believe that we may be being played for fools. We need someone who can tell us if he's telling the truth. Someone like you."

Now that the redheaded woman is inside, Gabriel takes the polite steps forward to extend his hand in greeting. "My name's Gabriel, miss. Our friend tells me that you read minds?" He quirks an eyebrow. "As he said, there's a man, a very questionable man who I don't trust. If he isn't what, who, and why he claims to be, he's putting a lot of good people in danger. Potentially thousands, if my worst fears were to come to pass. It's nice to meet you."

The redheaded woman looks to Sebastien for a lingering moment, then turns her attention to Gabriel. "A pleasure to meet you, Gabriel. My name is Isabeau, as I expect Sebastien has mentioned," she says softly, a smile touching at the corners of her lips. She steps over to the couch and then removes her cloak to toss it over the arm of the couch. Settling there, she tucks one of her feet beneath her. "What makes you think that I can tell you more about what he wants of you? Or if he speaks the truth?" she asks, raising an eyebrow slightly. "I have the gift of telepathy. There are things that can still be hidden from such a gift, and there is a chance that the man will sense that I do so to him," she comments.

Sebastien blinks and glances at Gabriel, saying, "Ah, not exactly, I said she should ferret out a lie. But," he glances at Isabeau, "I think for someone like you, who is more sensitive in nature, it would not be ... can you read minds?" He smiles apologetically, and gives Isabeau a look. "Not that it would bother me, you understand. Not so many would want to see what's in my head, I think! But this man, we're talking about life and death. Ours. Surely you can tell us something of his true intent? If you are discovered, no harm would come to you. He may turn me away, yes. But I'm already on outs with monsieur Bennet, so." Sebastien just smiles.

Gabriel also assures Isabeau, "There should be no danger. Even assuming that this man Bennet is some kind of demon hellspawn, I see no reason that he'd suddenly rear his head and try to demolish a city block. Piss him off at best, he's an arrogant man. But he thinks that he's really classy, which is rather amusing." The older man scratches his opposite elbow as a pause. "Telepathy. So... that sounds a lot like reading minds to me. You hear his thoughts? Even if you can't, but you can feel him blocking you - if that's a psychic thing, I really don't know - that seems to be if not dishonest, then at least suspiciously evasive." He then smiles and adds, "Not that I think you need it, but I assure you that we'll both be there with you. Armed."

"I can read minds unless they have their thoughts blocked from me, aye. And I can read their emotions, sense them," Isabeau says, then lifts one of her shoulders in a faint shrug. Lifting a hand, she brushes aside a bit of her hair, flicking it over her shoulder. "You cannot make a guarantee that no harm will come to me. If this person is psychic in nature, then there are a number of harms that could be caused should they happen to discover that I trespass within their mind. Who is this Mr. Bennet you speak of? If he has a block to his thoughts, aye... I would feel that. If he is psychic, depending upon his skill, he could prevent me from even telling you or showing you that there is anything wrong for you to do anything to stop him," she says, her brow furrowing slightly. Her gaze turns aside, away from the two men as she considers things for a long moment. But then, she gives a small nod. "I will do what you ask," she says softly, bringing her attention back to rest for a long moment on each of them.

"Listen," Sebastien says softly, "let's say he is this great evil psychic beast you hypothesize. Better to know here, than in the thick of things four hundred miles away. Besides." He smiles, "even if he could possibly do all that to someone like you, what chance do we have without you?" He peers at Isabeau, and adds, "I bought some e-clips the other day, so you're off the hook for the training. It's now free."

Gabriel makes an attempt to clarify himself. "Admittedly, I am no scholar when it comes to this magic and psychic stuff. But from what I can tell, Bennet uses magic. Mostly he sits on his ass, but otherwise, magic. I can't give you hard, solid evidence for this, but just by watching him, and two decades of needing to read people to stay alive? I think that's him. 'course, I don't know if that translates to not being psychic also." After glancing up to Sebastien, he continues with, "I'm wondering how we could bring you in. Obviously we can't arrange a meeting, show up with you and say, 'Hi, tell me the truth.' I'm thinking perhaps we fit you in as a another potential merc. We feed you the questions, we show up with you, you ask the questions. Still, I obviously don't know how your whole brain thing works." The man makes an odd, tapping-wiggling gesture of his hand near his right temple.

"He could be any number of things, I merely hypothesize as to the possibilities," Isabeau says softly, her tone holding a thoughtful cast to it. "I have already said that I will do as you have asked of me, that I will seek to read this man's thoughts and emotions to see if what he has asked of you is truthful," she says softly, giving a small nod to Sebastien. A bit of colour rises to her cheeks, and then she inclines her head to him, looking to him through her lashes. "Thank you, I appreciate that," she says softly, a smile touching her lips. Her attention turns to Gabriel, and she tilts her head to one side. "Some of those who use magic also have ability with psychics as well. For myself, I have some ability with both," she says softly, then lifts one of her shoulders in a faint shrug. A smile touches her lips, and she gives a small nod to Gabriel. "Ah, well... you need not understand how it works... I think in this case, it is enough to say that it does work. Perhaps it is best explained by saying that I have a mental sensitivity which sometimes ends up being useful," she comments, a smile touching her lips.

Gabriel ticks off some items right away. "First, yeah, where we actually are. I don't even need sufficient coordinates to find it on a topo, just enough to give me a general area. Second, why he's so damn interested in the first place. I mean, I don't know if he's struck you the same way, but he doesn't seem to me to be the kind of guy who does things just to be nice. Besides, he said as much to me that he had an interest in 'a new weapon' when he started hiring. There's obviously information being left out." The older man then points to Sebastien. "You didn't meet him, but Bennet has this guy who barely says anything, wears a robe like freaking monk, and seems to take orders from Bennet. The one who brought us to wherever we were, and back. But I think there's more there, too. Those are three good places to start." He then smiles and nods to the woman in the room. "Miss Isabeau, if you're somehow able to mine his mind for anything else that he might be holding out on us, I'd appreciate it. Maybe it's not the best etiquette, but if he's into this for the power? Like I said, we could be looking at thousands dying, with us as unwitting accomplices." After a pause, he shrugs a single shoulder and states finally, "Not to be overly dramatic."

The slender redheaded woman shifts her weight, making herself more comfortable there on the couch. One of her eyebrows quirks upwards slightly, and she takes a moment in looking between the two men. "Should I perhaps be taking notes on these items?" she inquires, a touch of mild amusement to her voice. Her attention turns back to Gabriel, and she tilts her head slightly to one side as she listens. "If he is evil, I will sense it. It is perhaps not his mind which needs reading. Sometimes those who seem in power are merely the puppets on the strings and those who seem advisers are the true ones in power," she says softly, her tone holding a thoughtful cast to it. "This robed man you mention may only seem to take orders from Bennet. It is hard to say, without meeting either of them. I would not make a likely mercenary, or very believable. I have no history of it, no deeds to prove I am of any worth. Unless he has given you what information you need, then arrange a meeting under the pretense of gaining further information. If it is somewhere semi private, then there is a good possibility that there would be somewhere that I could be placed, hidden. It would perhaps work better if he was not expecting it," she muses, then lifts a shoulder in a small shrug.

"I did meet him," Sebastien replies, and shrugs. "I think the weapon is something the Coalition has made. Perhaps these bandits have stolen it. Magic just does not make things explode. I'm no expert. Did you see the skull faces, the death masks?" He looks at Gabriel, lips pursing as he does. The young man looks confused, as well he might. "What was the reaction of your employer when you saw these so-called knights?"

As he takes up a position leaning against Sebastien's kitchen counter, Gabriel seems mildly perplexed by the man's questions, as he'd already spoken on the subject the previous evening. "The only skull faces and death masks that we saw were you average Coalition grunt soldiers and two battered skelebots remaining out of a unit that had been at the town. Reaction to the comment about Mystic Knights? Who the hell knows? Those idiots were too busy toodling around back and forth, absolutely useless as recon. Wasn't even there to have the chance to see his first reaction." He's probably keeping the language light, as there are ladies present. He does turn to address Isabeau directly. "I understand what you're saying, and it makes sense. But is there any way that you could communicate with us real-time? Let's say we find out he's lying about where we are. Great. You tell me, and I can then probe him further? Or can I not be told. Psychically, of course." His gaze dances between the two in the room. "It's exceptionally easy to pass yes-no messages through regular means, going completely unnoticed, particularly if someone isn't looking for them."

Isabeau quirks a hint of a smile at Gabriel's suggestion, and then she gives a small nod. "I would need to be within a certain range in order for it to work, for me to be able to attempt to read his thoughts and emotions. If I am able to tell he is lying, then so long as you do not resist the touch of my mind to yours, then I would be able to relay a simple message. It could be as simple as me saying, in your mind, 'lie' so that you would know to question further," she says, her tone holding a thoughtful cast. "Or it could be something done by signal... a pebble cast across the floor or lifted by an unseen hand from somewhere or some such similar thing," she muses, then lifts one of her shoulders in a small shrug. "A hand signal, a tarot card turned face up instead of face down, or laid sideways instead of lengthways. There are many ways that such a thing could be relayed," she says softly, a smile touching her lips.

Sebastien laughs softly. "Let's ah, keep it simple. A tarot card? Levitation? I think that might arouse suspicion. So then, perhaps, all that's left is to determine exactly what your role would be in this little expedition? Mademoiselle, I hate to say it, but you do not radiate the aura of 'mercenary.' For this to work, you will need to sell yourself as valuable enough to the mission that monsieur Bennet will put up with your third degree."

Gabriel stands up, apparently having, or at least thinking that he has a good idea. "Very simple. I tell you what he looks like. We make an appointment to meet at the Silver Fork. You walk in, sit down somewhere and start to order. A little while later, we come in, sit down with Bennet in a place that we can see you. You start to idly twirl your hair like a woman might do. We question him. He tells the truth, you just keep idly twirling your hair. He lies, you twirl it in the other direction until I ask another question." He looks between the two. "Natasha and I used that ploy a number of times. Wasn't psychic readings of course, but it worked. But I'm open to suggestions. We know what we want, this seems to be a simple way to do it, and simple is good."

"There are some settings where a tarot card is perfectly acceptable," Isabeau comments, her tone gaining a slight edge to it. She often has a deck on her person, and laying them out in any number of formations has never been beyond her to do whether in private or public. "I did already say that I do not exude the aura of a mercenary," she says softly, one of her eyebrows quirking upwards a touch. Her attention shifts to Gabriel, and she gives a nod. "You see? Something like that would work. Simple isn't bad," she comments, a smile touching her lips.

"So," Sebastien replies, "What is our cover? That she is some sort of psychic bloodhound, to sniff out this order? If they are the weapon at all! Perhaps they are simply the red herring? Not to my purposes, of course, but if your employer is looking for a magic weapon and they did not seem excited about any device these knights were carrying, why the fascination? I know why I am excited, but why are they?"

Gabriel quirks another eyebrow. "Miss Isabeau? She has no cover. She's just her, at the Silver Fork, eating. She's nobody -" he holds a hand to the woman "- figuratively speaking, miss. You and I, we don't have any need for further cover either. All I want to do is talk to him after our reconnaissance mission was declared complete. After all, none of us have actually gotten together yet. It's the perfect cover - the truth. The fact that we'll be there to snoop on his trustworthiness is just a side-effect." He looks between the two again. "I really don't think that it needs to be any further complicated."

"A weapon could be any number of things," she muses, then lifts one of her shoulders in a slight shrug. Falling quiet, she listens to the men as they speak, her attention shifting from one to the other of them. She inclines her head to Gabriel, a smile quirking the corners of her lips at his explanation of her being a 'nobody' -- she'd understood what he meant. "There are times when keeping it simple and mixing enough truth to the recipe are the best things to do. I cannot say what your employer or prospective employer might say to it or how he might react to it, but the reasoning seems plausible to me," she says, her tone holding a thoughtful cast to it.

"Fair enough," Sebastien replies. "Then we'll just ask him if he's found his weapon, and what he plans to do next. Easy as a bag of rattlesnakes." He winks at Isabeau, and adds, "Monsieur Gabriel, would you like to do the honors? And if the gentleman is interested, my participation is as easy as the knight connection. The truth is easy enough." He brushes away from the wall then, stretching a touch as he eases towards the door.

The older man shrugs and smiles. "I'll find the rat and set something up, then contact you, Seb. Miss Isabeau, if you give me your information, I can contact you, or you can just let Seb let you know. I understand both choices, and I won't be offended. But..." Gabriel looks around in the manner that people do when they're getting ready to leave, as if they may have possibly dropped something. "As far as I can tell, I should let get to sleep, Sebastien, and you, Miss Isabeau, to however you spend your day. If there's nothing else to discuss?" The question is left hanging.

Isabeau tilts her head slightly to one side as she looks to Sebastien, a thoughtful expression to her features. One of her eyebrows quirks at some of what is said, and a smile touches at the corners of her lips. "I have no issue in you knowing where to reach me, Gabriel," she says softly, a smile touching her lips. She retrieves a scrap of paper and a pen, writing it out before offering it to him with a nod. "I'm there much of the time," she says softly. "I have no other questions of the situation," she adds, a smile touching her lips.

"Bien," Sebastien replies. "Je pense que c'est ca! We have exhausted this." He pointedly leans towards the doorknob, grabbing hold of that to tug it open. "Gabriel, a pleasure as always. I look forward to your call. Isabeau? I'd ask you to stay, but I fear you and I, we would be mauled by a bear." He winks, and chuckles at the woman. "So until next time, adieu."

"Do svidaniya." Then, to Isabeau. "Nice to meet you, miss. I'll be speaking to both of you as soon as I can. Thanks for meeting with me." Gabriel will then head toward the door and be out, if not stopped.