Summary:In which Daisy 'Skye the Hacktivist' Johnson first meets Hank McCoy, and seeks information about a bio-phage Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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The first real sense of culture shock for Skye hadn't come from moving out to New York City. This feeling is reserved specifically for when she sets foot into the district known as Mutant Town. To everyone else she's suddenly the outsider. She looks, acts, even smells perfectly human. The rest of the city may not be so welcoming to metahumans at times but around here the situation is reversed. She's keeping her head down, alright.
The clinic is easy to find. Between the less than stellar street views from what traffic cameras still work to good old Google Earth she knows where to go and what she's looking for. Thanks to McCoy's public profile she even knows that he's not the furry blueberry that he had once been. It'll make him a little more difficult to spot but only a -little.- The guy's still huge. If he didn't have something of a reputation as a gentle giant she'd be feeling pretty intimidated to be making this move.
At the front desk she doesn't have much to work with. "Hi. I'm looking for Doctor McCoy. Nick sent me."
The triage nurse is a very cheerful looking black woman, matronly, named Maggie according to her ID badge. The woman looks up, salt and pepper hair in a neat bun, and her smile almost dazzling. "Nick sent you to look for Doctor McCoy?" And then she looks all super suspicious, eying Skye dubiously as she asks. "What's the password?" She waits just long enough to fluster, then laughs brilliantly. "Hank! Nick sent someone to see you, got a moment?"
From one of the examination rooms a familiar (from online photos) brown haired head pokes out, and looks to Maggie. "I'll be done in here in a few more minutes, Maggie." His voice? DEEP, and every syllable lovingly enunciated, rich and warm. A smile is offered to Skye, he assumes she's the one sent. "Have a seat, I'll be done in about ten minutes, okay?" Once he has her answer, he ducks back into the room and continues whatever task he was up to.
The ten minutes — okay, well, it took twelve — pass pretty quickly. A young man exiting the room, he's…odd, thick tail, amber eyes with slip pupils, emerald skin with silver striations, and only three fingers per hand all ending (thumb included) in thick fighting claws. The young man has one arm in a sling, and a bandage on his face visible.
Hank follows after, and yes, he's HUGE. Only five eleven, but close to four feet wide and probably a bit more than four hundred pounds of simian proportioned muscle. The smile is warm. "So…Nick sent you, how can I be of service, miss?"
Password..? Skye stands there like a deer in headlights, momentarily floundering about in silence before Maggie drops the mask and calls out the Doctor. "Right… Sense of humor! That's..good to have," she sheepishly replies with a one-two thumping of hands onto the desk. Both thumbs hook off to the side then she spins on her heel, intent on relocating herself and her embarrassment away from the main desk.
And there's the Doctor of the hour. Yeah, he's pretty huge. His voice would suggest that he's even -huger.- But the smile and the words just ooze charm to an extent rarely encountered anymore. "Yah, I'll be here!" she calls back before slinking off to take a seat and bury herself into a tablet for the next ten-odd minutes.
The first metahuman to wander past is certainly curious. She tries not to stare but there's something so incredibly fascinating about mutants… She doesn't know this one. Hopefully the government doesn't know about him, either. She wouldn't trust them not to lure somebody like that in and turn him into a—
"Ah hi!" her attention leaps out of conspiracy mode to refocus on the very much not blue yet still very much massive person now wandering over. "I'm..Skye."
A quick glance back to the main desk is followed by a slight lowering of her voice. "Hey, is there somewhere we could talk? It's regarding an investigation."
Maggie just chuckles, not in a mean way. "Gotcha." She says with a friendly, genuinely kind smile. "And honey, if I /didn't/ have a sense of humor? LORD have mercy, I'd not last a week in this job." She gives Hank a flash of that warm smile, and keeps at her work. The waiting room has several people in it, being free, the clinic is rarely /not/ busy, but Skye can find herself a seat readily enough. Some of them are /off/, many in fact sport obvious mutations though none as spectacular as the lizard boy who just left, though…he /did/ 'taste' the air near Skye, a forked tongue flickering out, and his teeth? Yeah, all sharp.
Hank returns while Skye is people watching and pondering the malefic Powers That Be.
A massive hand is offered and should she shake it she'd find his touch /incredibly/ precise and gentle. He takes no chances with that obvious strength. He's dressed in jeans and size twenty boots, a form fitted black shirt under his lab coat. "Skye?" A firm nod. "Hello Skye, a pleasure to meet you." Her request for more privacy doesn't seem to catch him by surprise. "Of course, follow me." Should she comply he leads the way to the back room, and then out the door, there's a ladder to the roof and /that/ is where they go. "Private enough?"
She's only been here for a few seconds and already Skye is liking Maggie. They really found the right person for the job! A smile is offered in return but the hackerette goes back to keeping her head down until Hank shows up.
Then comes the handshake. It's kind of a peculiar feeling, one which is difficult to draw a parallel to. She remains fairly quiet at first, possibly due to her feeling so out of place in this neck of the woods. Soon enough they end up on the roof, of all places. Because this doesn't seem shady -at all.-
"You've done this before," she suggests with a thin smile. "I almost don't know where to start. You're familiar with the recent burglary attempt of an experimental stroke medication in Manhattan? Perhaps more importantly..I hear that you're also familiar with something called 'bio-phage.'"
Here she pauses, watching the bigger man to try and gauge his reaction to what she's saying. Can't trust anyone!
"Some of it was recently stolen. Taken by force. There's more to this which I don't know than what I do know. Nick seemed to think that you were the one to talk to."
Shady indications aside, considering the general state of the area, it is unlikely to be noticed or commented on. Actually, the locals have a nice organization called 'The Pride', and there's a fair amount of rooftop activity so it won't be all that remarkable a sight even to the locals.
"I have done this before." Hank says with a nod and a smile. "Hank McCoy, by the way, but you knew that already."
Hank's reactions show that he does indeed at least recognize the burglary mentioned, and then his eyes grow a bit guarded about the 'bio-phage'.
And then his consternation is plain when she mentions the successful robbery. "Forgive me if I seem a bit wary, but who are you exactly? And why are you interested?" The man is not dumb, not even close. It might actually reassure Skye to /be/ questioned.
Here's the awkward moment. 'Yeah, I'm with a global hacktivist group who wants to expose all of the government's dirty little secrets because the people deserve to know.' It didn't go over so well the last time she tried it. She wouldn't expect any better results trying it again.
"I'm not associated with any of this," Skye starts in with one hand held palm-forward as if intending to stop Hank from getting any more suspicious. Not that she could stop him if she tried. "My concern right now starts with 'people have been infected and killed' and ends with 'this is bad and needs to be stopped.'"
The matter of letting this information out onto the public web channels can be dealt with later. Or..never. He doesn't need to know.
"Two people died at the Montreal facility, both with ties to the Canadian military. They sent in five winged metahumans with gold armor and oldschool weapons. Over two hundred more got exposed to ..whatever this stuff is."
"About a week ago there was a winged woman who had passed by this way following Nick's truck. I'm not sure if she's at all connected but there are only so many people with flight-capable wings. Then considering the other robbery attempt in the neighborhood..?"
It all starts to seem mighty fishy.
Yeah, Hacktivists are not exactly Hank's favorite types - that said - he's a very capable hacker in his own right, still, not mentioning that aspect is probably wise on the whole.
Hank's eyes study the young lady, not that he's ancient at twenty-three of course, sapphire gaze measuring and weighing her words. That look is pretty intense, he's focused every iota of his formidable intellect on -her-.
For a girl who's preferred locale is 'the shadows' it might MORE unnerving than his sheer physical presence.
She is definitely well informed, this girl. And she /did/ drop Nick's name and knew to come here to find Hank…still a bit suspect.
Hank paces a bit, thinking. "I'm not sure what I should say…honestly…these are some VERY dangerous people." And considering the source his concern might give Skye pause. "Lets say I had the information you wanted—what would your next move be? What's your endgame?"
It's always the friendly, cheerful ones you have to watch out for, isn't it? Like they know at their core what they really are, what they're capable of. The darkness may not seem to suit them but when they opt to draw upon it they brandish it like a familiar weapon, shrouding themselves inside as if they were simply returning home. Skye doesn't think any less of the Doctor but there are signs, some subtle and some not, that he is most definitely not the sort of person she would like to cross.
What -is- her endgame, though? It's a good question.
The response starts with a headshake. "I don't really know." This piece of her response is far from accurate.
"Whatever this is, it's far beyond me. And I know enough to understand that these people don't have good intentions and more people are going to get hurt or killed if something isn't done. This is big, I can't just..sit around and do -nothing- about it," Skye declares with hands momentarily jumping up into the air. "To be honest I don't really know what I -can- do but it doesn't seem like too many others are jumping up to deal with it."
And even the Canadian news has been unsettlingly quiet about the Montreal attack.
Here she motions toward Hank. "You seem to know about this bio-phage stuff and the people behind it. Aren't you concerned? Why aren't you doing something about it?"
Well, Hank is not exactly prone to rampages or crazed acts of vengeance, but there is definitely a strong protective streak in him, and he does sometimes have to work very hard to control his ire. Beast indeed.
"You do." Know. "You have plans, you're just not sure you should share them with me." Hank's tone is not accusatory, but neither is there any doubt. The rest though, the rest seems honest enough.
"It is a larger conspiracy than you might think, and there's several branches to it." Hank admits. "I am working with others on two of them, one of which involves the so-called 'bio-phage'."
His gaze narrows a bit when she questions why he isn't doing anything, and then he smiles toothily…and oh my, he has /fangs/. Not big, nasty ones, but they definitely are fangs.
"I am well acquainted with the body counts involved, and I have not been idle."
And then he remembers 'Skye', a hacker, in fact a hacktivist of note. "So…out of curiousity…how did you manage to bypass the firewall into Resnick and Lowicki?" A law firm, a /sleazy/ law firm involved with organized crime and a few corrupt politicians in California.
Yyyyikes. Okaaay then… Skye is, as far as she knows, just another human. A human who is playing in an entirely different league. A human who is clearly in over her head at times. Seeing the 'Beast's' fangs is a good reminder that -this- just might be one of those times.
The Good Doctor has been involved, after all. Doing what, though? Oh, she would just love to know the deets…
It's okay. This is fine. All she has to do is keep it together, don't lose her head—
Some of the color drains out of her face. "How did—" C'mon, Skye. This guy's IQ eclipses that of most of the people on the planet. It would seem that he also has a memory to match!
Alright. Since it's all out in the open and he knows of her 'secret identity' Skye stands upright a bit further. Clearly she isn't ashamed about who she is or what she does. Or she's -really- good at putting on the act.
"The same way that I know Vincent Marchez and his daughter are dead. I have my ways. Whatever angle you're working? I can help."
She's eager. New kid on the block with something to prove? Cavalier arrogance? Or perhaps some other motivation is at play. Who knows if she'd be more dangerous tagging along or trying to press forward as a solo act.
Hank actually feels a little bad about being all scary, but really, the people involved ARE really dangerous. Rather than dwell on the flash of fear, he tries to think of it as a test of her mettle. Because really - if she is a shrinking violet with /him/, she's probably going to end up dead with -them-.
His smile is much more normal once she owns up to her identity. "That was well done, not so sure about all the data you dumped onto Reddit, however. Resnick & Lowicki also had some, granted not many, legitimate clients."
It is true that Hank has a phenomenal memory, nearly perfect, definitely eidetic. "So…if you want in we'll have to talk about your infodump proclivities."
Holding Skye's gaze, he nods. "Look me in the eyes and promise you will not flood the net with what we're doing. There's too much here that's very very risky, and would cause widespread panic." Expecting a protest, he holds up a dinner plate sized hand. "Once things are /handled/, we can revisit things. But that's the price of admission, take it or leave it."
At least it wasn't a 'no'?
A compliment. Most unexpected, though well deserved in Skye's mind. It had been a fun hack, and boy did she learn more about that lawfirm than she ever wanted to know… Sometimes the truth is scary, such as what men with money choose to do with their free time.
She can see where this is going. The poker-face is already falling into order. She can play this game well enough, it won't be the first time nor will it be the last—
Oh dear.
No one has ever given her an on the spot lie detector test before…
Should she go for it and hope for the best? Argue? Come up with an excuse?
It is -shockingly- fortunate when Hank himself gives her a way out. It isn't ideal, but it's a definite start. Then again, she's never dealt with biological weapons theft before. It's kind of a new frontier all around.
Not that it stops her from breathing out a long sigh. At the very least she's able to hold Hank's gaze through the exchange. As the observant scientific genius he'll know the exact cubic volume of air which is now venting away from her proverbial sails.
"Fine. Okay. But we're -gonna- talk about it when this is done."
So sayeth the Skye.
Hey now! Hank is a hacker too! A good one. He understands where she's coming from, he's just accustomed to keeping what he learns to himself or using it to further mission objectives. Part of him thinks that Skye's ideals are laudable, people really do have a lot of nasty and important stuff hidden from them - but - the level they're playing on is orders of magnitude beyond what Skye has done to date.
MAYBE she'll even learn some discretion as things progress. He can hope, right?
As to the living lie detector thing? He used to be much better at it! Still, he's a pretty shrewd customer, even without his former super senses he is very good at reading expressions, even micro expressions, and pitch of the voice, all in all — it is pretty effective.
He laughs at Skye's addendum to the 'take it or leave it' deal he offered. "Agreed."
Thus spake Hankathustra.
Agreed?
Skye dips her head. "Okay."
Alright, now what? Maybe a means of communication which doesn't involve going onto the rooftop of a clinic? Just a thought.
"Right. We should exchange numbers."
Hank does have a phone, doesn't he? How does that work with his dinnerplate-sized hands?
With that out of the way, hopefully with a new contact in her phone, the immediate question becomes one of "So what angles -are- you working on this case? And who are these clowns in the gold armor? And what even -is- a 'bio-phage?'" So many questions, all which seem to storm the gates now that she's not being put on the spot with the fine print of this alliance!
Parka-covered arms fold together as she looks at the broad shouldered mutant. Like a boulder being stared down by a twig. "I want to know everything you know."