Mar 15 07:08:39 108 PA - Schemes and Plans
From Chronicles
Mid march, and the streets are still freezing hard every night. The streets are even more treacherous by morning when Sebastien indicated to come, as the top layer of ice is weeping freezing water to slick to create the one thing worse than ice. Wet ice. Meanwhile, Sebastien is comfortably ensconced in his warm apartment, the bastard! Raleigh's hasn't fully woken at seven, with some quiet traffic heading down the stairs and out towards jobs in the world, and a few whiffs here and there of coffee, but a general stillness that says this place is still nestled in blissful slumber. Stuck to the door is a postcard featuring a photo of a man and boy in a train car. The boy is opening a package from which tentacles are spewing. Both look delighted. The caption reads; That's some cephalopod, son!
Mother Nature be damned, that vile bitch! Gabriel was happy for the last two days or so when the weather was climbing above freezing. Not the he minded the sub-freezing temperatures, just that warmth is nice. He has changed into the same clothes - or same style - that he had shown up wearing in Kingsdale last September - September the twenty-seventh. Surprisingly, despite the absurdly low temperatures for mid-March, and complete lack of snow-gear, he still has a smile on his face. Sure, his floppy jungle hat might help out with warmth a bit, but it's probably not there for that. At any rate, remembering how he had upset his friend a few days ago, he raises a fist, and next to the odd postcard raps the cliche three times on the door. Quietly. Thump-thump-thump.
After a few moments the door opens, revealing Sebastien clad in a medium grey exercise shirt and cornflower blue trunks. A cobalt blue duffle sits by the door, ready to go, and it's apparent where his next step will be. Assuming he can get there without anything freezing and falling off! A smile touches his broken face as Sebastien steps back, greeting with a soft, "Good morning. Come in! I just heard from our mutual friend. It seems we may have some excitement ahead after all."
Gabriel takes a few steps in to the apartment. "Thanks, Seb. But which mutual friend would that be? I can think of a few. Sorry for catching you so early again. Just didn't really have any other time today to meet. You look good. Healthy today. Rested. Hitting the gym, obviously." He smiles and asks politely, "One problem I'd like to talk about - not a problem with you, just a problem, regarding this Iowa thing, and some thoughts about training up a little cadre of soldiers."
"Monsieur Bennet," Sebastien clarifies. "The red devil." The young man turns to swing the door shut behind Gabriel, and continues, "He left me a voice mail at the hospital, said the next leg of his little odessey would be heavy combat, and invited me back to the table." Sebastien waves at the couch, and steps in that direction himself. "Obviously I'm interested, but my objections now are much the same as they were a month ago."
The older man nods. "Yeah, him. Got it." It's a bland statement. "I don't know if we're going to have time to bring in Miss Isabeau before we all get together. Do you remember last week, I said that I was doing some checking into him myself? Well, I've done some poking, and he is... a strange man. Like he did a complete one-eighty personality-wise. I don't feel very comfortable when that happens. Now he's a businessman, he's living somewhere outside the walls. James is off in the Magic District, and being well-defended. I followed him as far as I could, urban is a specialty." Gabriel shrugs. "I used to track outdoors, too, but ever since I, ah... came through... I kind of forgot things." A chin is nodded in Sebastien's direction. "You know how to track a man outdoors?"
Sebastien blinks. "What, from a scuff in the ground, a broken twig? Non, not at all. I am not so much a tracker, nor am I stealthy. I am a blunt instrument -- I ride in and break things." He smirks, waking to take the far end of the couch, and sprawling comfortably. "Except here, perhaps, I will walk in and break things. Now that I have some concept of what we're aimed to fight against, I am less worried. We know them villains. If we work for villains to dispatch more villains, well, we've at least eliminated half of the problem." Gabriel looks a little disappointed, but doesn't press the point. The point was answered, there's nothing to press. "I asked Erica, because I know that she can do it, but she's a wonderful person - and possibly far too trusting. Wanting to give the man his freedom and privacy, et cetera. Me, I don't invade people's privacy unless it's -" he counts off a few fingers "- necessary for a mission, need more information because it might hurt others, or because it might hurt me. But I suppose we'll need to leave it up to Miss Isabeau and fate."
The would-be knight nods. "Good for her. She stood by her convictions. Time will tell if she is misguided, but she kept them." He tilts his head, and looks fairly sanguine with the situation laid out. "Granted, we are still supposed to run in, find these things nobody has yet seen, assume from their demeanor and hearsay that they are wicked, destroy them, and then hope that whatever they possess beyond their magic is sufficient to cover our expenses. That is a lot of 'if' in this plan. But, apparently, it is a thing that needs be done."
A long shrug. "I do the things that need to be done, even if it means that I lose cash. This worries me, though, because I have little to no money in the bank. Anything that I expend is *very* meaningful right now. But I suppose we'll all discuss those kinds of things when we get together again - if we ever get together again." Gabriel leans up against the counter, as it's the nearest platform. "If you don't mind my asking, what are your plans for the mercenary company that you have in mind?"
"Cross train," Sebastien starts, leaning forward. "I want to be sure at least one other person has some knowledge of emergency medicine, and have a better handle on that myself. I would also like to know that there is someone sufficient to take my place on the line so that, if I come to the aid of a wounded colleague, I am not simply putting someone else in danger. I also want to practice together. For example, when there was this fight against the Brodkil, you were in a bad place. Nobody was assigned to help you. It was the job of nobody. I stepped in because I saw a need, but that should be predetermined. If I had less mobility, things could have been very bad. I would also like to ensure that we have trained supernatural support. Technology just tends to hurt people in a more convincing fashion." Sebastien laughs, and notes, "I am encouraged that Valeriya, for example, can fight well with a sword and can breathe underwater or swim or whatever it is she does, but she is a loner and a glory hound. I want to make sure that when push comes to shove, whomever is in that slot understands that their purpose is to ensure the survival of the team so that they team can perform better. Perhaps at some point down the road we will be actively seeking work, but my immediate goal is to become better at what we are already doing. Venture little, gain a lot."
Gabriel takes all of that in, nodding, but replies rather flatly, "That's very ambitious of you, but if that's your plan, you're going to get a lot of people killed. No offense. You can't just take people off the street, train them to be something they're not, and make them run around a track a few times to develop and esprit de corps." He shrugs, and looks both worried and with a touch of hope at the same time. "These people, they'd come in with whatever skills they have. Great, bring 'em in, then line 'em up and tell 'em that what they know doesn't mean shit if they want to fight together and survive together, because it doesn't. Basic training to get everyone on the same page. Advanced training to get every fighting at the same level. *Then* you move on to specialization, *then* you cross-train, *then* you put a unit or units together to train, each person doing his or her job to support the common cause." Gabriel shrugs and holds his hands out to his sides. "Your idea sounds interesting, but it's little more than getting a group of random people together and throwing them into a random battle. I'm sure that people are sick of hearing about it, but I've been training guerrillas and partisans for twenty years now. It doesn't have to always take time - but you need to do it right. If not? You're just giving people a sense of ability that they don't have." The older man's face looks suddenly very apologetic. "Sorry to be the shit on your dinner plate. If you want to train people up, though, I'd be happy to come along. Do what I can do."
Sebastien grins, and shakes his head. "Non, not at all. You misunderstand. I gave you my goals. What I want to see done. I did not lay out my twelve step process. Mostly as I have not yet created the twelve steps. At the moment, I am identifying people with the potential to train. I could not, for example, soldier you into the magical support role." Sebastien shrugs. "Who knows? Maybe you had the spark? But at this point it's too late. I have training in small unit tactics as well, monsieur. I understand that we need to teach people how to move, when to move, what to shoot, this sort of thing. Get everyone on the same page."
"Well, apologies then my friend, and good luck," Gabriel says with a smile. "I hope it works out for all of you, or whoever you find. If - in the future, obviously - you need another opinion, I'll be around." He smirks and adds, "Unless I'm dead. I'll leave you alone now, let you get back off to the gym where you can oil yourself up and flex for the ladies." The older man smirks and winks before beginning to move off toward the apartment's door.
Sebastien chuckles at that. "My days for that are done. I have my girl. I have to leave some for the old men out there, too!" He winks and springs to his feet, following Gabriel to the door. A revoir, monsieur. I'll see you soon with the redhead and Monsieur Bennet."
As he exits the apartment, Gabriel turns his head to ask, "Miss Monique is your girl? She seems rather young, even for a young man like you." An eyebrow is quirked, but no more. If there's another woman in Sebastien's life, he obviously isn't aware of it. He nods once more, and if there is otherwise nothing else to keep him around, he'll soon be back out marching the pavement.
"Oui, she is." He winks. "She is girlish, but not too young. With her own people she was engaged once. She still wears the ring. After this mission, I hope, I will be able to afford to put one on there as well." He smiles, and nods. "See you soon."
"Hmm," is all that Gabriel says as he continues down the hallway. He seems to offer a possibly forced smile. "Then congratulations to both of you, you seem very happy. Don't get too sweaty, Seb. This fucking weather might freeze it on your body like armor." Then, *poof* around the corner, down the stairs, and gone.
