Difference between revisions of "2019-08-11 - There's something you should know about Bishop"

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Latest revision as of 18:10, 11 August 2019

There's something you should know about Bishop... He's an asshole.

Summary: Jack wants to talk to Bishop. Rayne volunteers some key information about dealing with him. Also, some stuff about him possibly joining MCPD as a detective?

Who: Jack Hawksmoor, Rayne
When: August 11th, 2019
Where: The Usual Restaurant

Jack Hawksmoor-icon.gifRayne-icon.gif

The information contained within this log is to be considered information gained Out of Character (OOC).
This information may not be used as In Character (IC) knowledge or in roleplay unless it has been learned in-game or permission has been granted by the parties involved.

Questions should be directed to staff.

The doors open and through walks Rayne. As is typical, she looks mildly exhausted. She could easily go back to her apartment and collapse into her bed, but she really should eat something, and isn't in the mood for Mexican from the food truck that hangs out behind the courthouse/police station. So here she is, at the Usual, heading right for the bar.

The odd guy from the other day has apparently found the Usual. (He's also still working on the stubborn lamp post). He's seated at the bar with, noticeably, no drink by him, although he seems to have come to an understanding with the barkeep. He's got a cheap smartphone and is apparently cribbing off the Usual's wi-fi, peeking at the screen some.

Rayne sits at the bar and proceeds to drop her head to the bartop, where she mumbles something that could possibly be interpreted as spicy meat lasagna and cherry soda, which apparently is understood by the bartender. The cherry soda comes soon enough, getting the rainbow haired young woman to finally lift her head again and press the cold glass against her cheek. Finally, she looks back at the barefoot guy and says, "....How's the lamppost training going?"

Jack Hawksmoor says, "Something's not one hundred percent with the gravity around here," Jack says in response, tapping the phone once more before turning his attention to the woman. "Long day, Chief Hurris?" Presumably one of the things he was doing with the phone was looking up who was in charge of the cops around here."

Rayne snorts and says, "Welcome to Twisted," despite that not being the name of the city. It really does fit the dimension as a whole as a moniker. She looks at the man with a slightly wary eye... but in the end, she is kind of a public figure, and certainly stands out even here with her hair. "They all are," she says finally.

"Only cops I've ever met that didn't say that were crooked," Jack muses. "But at least the malfunction appears to be in either the gravity controls here or a side effect of the dimensional instability, which I can't quite get to directly." Sounds like he was worried the problem was with him.

Rayne nods once. "It's the dimensional instability. That's also the cause of the gravity issues. I mean... there's some good to that. The landmass here isn't remotely enough to actually create a gravity well, after all." Well, she looks like she's medieval, but she sure doesn't talk like it.

Jack Hawksmoor nods. "I figured there was also some tech in place somewhere. I can feel something," Jack muses. "I just have to learn to work with it."

Rayne frowns at that. "Maybe. There's a lot about this place I'm not privy to. That kind of stuff is on a need to know basis and.... the only one that really needs to know is Bishop, apparently."

"Aha," Jack says, in a soft tone. "Bishop. I need to talk to them." No assumption of gender. No surprise, as if the mention of somebody who needs to know 'everything' is...something which fills in gaps.

Rayne glances away. "Yeah, good luck with that." Her food has arrived, however, which is the cause of the digging of in. "Bishop will only talk to you if it fits his needs."

The man's lips quirk. "I have a feeling he'll talk to me. No guarantees, of course." And if he doesn't? Jack will cross that bridge when he comes to it.

Rayne rolls her eyes at that confidence. "Well, then good luck when he does to not want to punch him in the face, then." She shakes her head, then says, "So what gives you that kind of confidence that you're so sure our 'god' will want to talk to you." The mention of 'god' was completely covered in sarcasm, of course.

Jack Hawksmoor laughs. "If I can deal with Bendix without punching him in the face...he'd have to be really, really annoying," Jack says. "To be worse than people I've dealt with before."

Rayne frowns, then shrugs. "Okay, point, the only annoying person in power I've had to deal with before coming to Twisted was my mother."

"I think I can handle him, but I'd rather talk to him before we end up butting heads. Which we will if we don't come to an understanding." A pause. "Even if it's a metaphorical head."

Rayne shrugs again. "Like I said. Good luck. I stopped trying to concern myself with that level of things and just do what I can, now." There's something bitter in the way she said that.

"Some of us don't have that choice." A hint of wry. Maybe a slight touch of bitter. "If this city has a manager AI, I'm going to have to deal with him even if he's way annoying."

Rayne looks away again, clearly fed up with the talk of Bishop. So yes, in her opinion, at least, he's in fact 'way annoying'. "What are you going to do that you're worried about him, anyway?

"I probably won't even have to do anything," Jack says, wryly. "I suspect existing will be enough." He slips the phone into an inside pocket of his jacket. "I didn't properly introduce myself. Jack Hawksmoor." It won't mean anything to her, but names are good, and he IS at a disadvantage.

Rayne looks back again with a raised eyebrow at the response to her question, then says, "Rayne Hurris. Chief of Police, as I gathered you already knew."

Jack Hawksmoor nods. "I looked you up. Not used to civilians having that ready access." He leans against the bar, glances around as if making sure nobody is close enough to eavesdrop. "So, basically? I'm a cybernetic organism designed to interface with urban resonance fields. In plain terms: I talk to cities."

Rayne repeats the phrase, "'Urban Resonance Fields.' Well, I suppose talking to Mabase is either like talking to Bishop himself or talking to an insane person." Yes, its her city and she loves it despite everything... but she's under no impression that this place is anything less than insane.

"I can feel another...something else touching it. Presumably that's Bishop, and if I pushed it we could probably talk that way, but I think face to face would be more polite, if he has a face. I mean, if he isn't in a server room somewhere." A pause. "And yeah, this place is rather nuts, that's part of why i was a bit off the other day."

Rayne deadpans, "He has a face. I think he's a bit overly proud of it, too." She glances away and takes a swig of her cherry soda as if it were something alcoholic. "Yeah. I could get that throwing you off."

"Eh, I know enough vain people." He leans against the bar a little bit. "So, how would a guy go about getting his PI license around here?"

Rayne raises an eyebrow at the sudden request. "PI? Don't want to work for me directly, then?"

Jack Hawksmoor considers that. "I dunno." He studies her. "I ain't ever been a cop," he admits. "In the traditional sense."

Rayne waves a hand. "Eh, I'm not actually insulted, don't worry. It's different stuff, of course... I completely understand not wanting to deal with stuff like murders and the like. And like you said, there's a lot of corrupt police forces out in the multiverse... I just strive to not run one of them myself, not that me saying that will soothe someone that's had experience with nothing but the corrupt sort."

Jack Hawksmoor considers that for a long moment. "I can deal with murders, can and have. It's following orders of people just 'cause they have more marks on their badge I have an issue with."

Rayne leans forward over the bar, staring at drink selection on display in front of the mirror. "I'm going to be blunt. My current department is filled with film noir and someone that thinks investigators should do everything up to and including doing the arrests themselves. I'm looking for someone that could reign those two in and keep them in focus." She glances back and says, "Currently they're answering only to me and Captain Cosgrove."

"Shame Jenny's not here," Jack says, clearly an aside. "Then again, sometimes she's pretty drawn noir herself, if you know what I mean." He turns back to her. "I'd have to think about it. I'm used to operating in rather...different circumstances. Put it this way, I ain't the one they put in the fancy suit and have do the press releases."

Rayne laughs once. "Fancy suit. Yeah, no. You should have seen what the guy before me wore to press releases."

Jack Hawksmoor is wearing a...not very fancy suit. "I was in planetary defense, but not doing the open stuff. Grey ops," he admits. "Not wetworks." He's killed. He'd much prefer not to. He's still keeping his voice very low.

Rayne says, "Then we're smalltime for you." She looks out the window, then gestures around. "This city? It's all we've got. I'm guessing if you can 'talk' to it, you've seen how alone it is."

"Painfully." A wry expression. "From what I hear of Bishop..." He tails off. "Smalltime, no. This is all you have, and it's partly torn apart and shifting and like a castle in the air that may fall at any time. All you have is never smalltime, Chief." A wry expression on his face. "All I'm saying is I'm not used to working under typical police constraints and I don't know how good I would be at it. I'm a good detective."

Rayne frowns. at the mention of 'all they have', but chooses not to comment on it. "I'm not sure we can really be called 'typical', but... Lemme put it this way. We're evolved from a paramilitary organization, and I'm trying to scrounge up a proper police force out of that. And I was only in that for a couple of years. Before then I was actually a bit more of a 'no authority positions for me, thank you' kind of person. At any rate, I'm still the one you'd talk to about a PI licence. Just if you do, don't expect me to come to you for the big cases."

Jack Hawksmoor considers that. "That sounds," he says, wryly, "Suspiciously like a bribe." Because if he's any good, he's not going to want to be sidelined.

Rayne raises an eyebrow. "Bribe? No. It's common sense that I'd go to people that I have some remote way of reigning in before I'd go to someone that the worst I can do is drop from that one job." She pauses, then adds, "Uh, unless the PI outright broke laws, in which case, yeah. I can do stuff about that."

Jack Hawksmoor nods. "And I'm hard to rein in. I'll admit that. I have my own safeguards." Fortunately. "But you also don't know how good I am," he points out. "And I don't know how good you are."

Rayne frowns and glances away. "...how good I am. Likely not as good as some other police chiefs you've worked with before. I'll admit that. Like I said, I've got only about two years experience, if you count what we were before reorganization. I was probably the most surprised when I was declared to be second in command."

Jack Hawksmoor's chest rises and falls with a deep breath. "In other words, this place is a hot mess and you're looking for help wherever you can get it."

Rayne pauses, then nods. "I think 'hot mess' describes this place fairly well, yes. Just keep in mind, I need more evidence than 'the city told me so'."

Jack Hawksmoor nods. "Oh, of course. I know full well it's not admissible straight up. But it can tell us where to look for the evidence."

Rayne nods. "Always useful. Of course, this isn't the interview. You know where the station is? Come by tomorrow when I'm more in the mental state capable of doing that right."

Jack Hawksmoor nods. "I'll drop by. Hopefully by then I'll have worked out how to work with, or at least around, Bishop."

Rayne says once again, "Psh. Good luck with that."

Jack Hawksmoor hops to his feet. "I'll see you around, regardless." He's very sure he will. Then he heads out of the restaurant. For once, he uses the door.

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