→ 002 | action | OTA

[cactusy]

WHO: Sameen Shaw and OPEN
WHERE: Around Temba
WHAT: Shaw is taking her new job very seriously.
WHEN: Late December into early January
WARNINGS: N/A for now!



It's been three weeks and change, and while it would be a stretch to say that Shaw has settled in, she at least feels like she's gotten a good handle on the lay of the land. Beyond the basics (new planet, space travel, drafted by aliens who need their help) and the logistical matters (Data Points, communication devices, replicators), the ultimate conclusion that Shaw has come to is this: she's not going to be given any sort of direction from above, and so it's up to her to figure out how she's going to pull her weight around here. The people that she's met so far have largely been cooperative and communal, a real bunch of team players who value things that she also values in an abstract sense, but that she's never been any good at providing on a personal level: looking after the young and the vulnerable, making sure that people are cared for, fostering peace and hope and goodwill towards man and all that mushy crap.

So what's a girl to do when she's not the type to decorate trees and hand out presents in the city square, but she still sees the value in protecting other people's ability to do just that? She signs herself up for security, grabs a big gun, and sets out to patrol the city, that's what. According to the crew rosters, only a handful of other people have picked the security expertise, which means that only a handful of people can fully defend themselves. As far as Shaw is concerned, that means that people like her are here to pick up the slack.

She's not necessarily obvious about it. When she sits on a rooftop for hours and surveys the streets below for danger, she's easy to miss. When she patrols down on ground level, though, she's a little more conspicuous, especially since this doubles as urban exploration: and in the absence of bad guys to fight and with the memory of that one girl falling down a hole still fresh in her mind, this turns into an impromptu safety inspection. "Hey," she might say, popping her head out of a broken second-story window and as she calls down to a passer-by. "You know where I can get spray paint? There's a lot of sagging floorboards up here; I wanna write some warnings on the walls."

The wilderness around the city is where most of the real danger lies, she knows, and so if she spots someone heading out of town - particularly if they're alone, and particularly if they're weaponless - she'll drop what she's doing and approach. "Need back-up?" she'll ask. "Been a while since I've roughed it, but I can hold my own."

Shaw has always been good at moving forward. It's easy enough to accept this as her new life, because there's nothing much left for her back on Earth: just Lionel, who she knows will get along fine without her, and Bear, who she knows Lionel and his kid will take good care of. She misses New York, misses the restaurants and delis and the way unplowed snow sparkles in the moonlight at night, but she can exist just fine without it. She misses her team, but her team is dead, and that's that. Here on Agra 10, she has Root's leather jacket to keep her warm, and she has a cool new gun to help her protect her new crew, and she has her legs to keep her moving forward. And that will have to do.

Comments

[thepurpleone]

While Donnie's used to doing things on his own, it's just been very weird being able to do so consistently and without brothers barging in or inviting themselves along. The season's snowy shift is just a reminder that he's been here nearly a year by Earth standards, and it's a depressing thought. Not being with his family for any holidays is bad enough, not seeing them for so long is an ache that seems to persistently grow as the cold days stretch on.

Today he's wrestling with a snowblower drone. He's hard to miss, all dressed in purples, covered up as much as possible against the chill because turtle teens do not do well in cold without some sort of protection. By the looks of things, it might appear that he's attacked the thing given it's tipped on its side, one of its googly eyes detached and lying in the snow. Donnie looks almost guilty when Shaw pops her head out of the window from the adjacent building, holding his tech-bō over his head, frozen in what might have been mid-swing. A most suspicious scene!

"-uh..." Just act casual, Donnie! "I think there was some paint at the welcome center?"

[cactusy]

Well, it's not a talking echidna, but a talking turtle (tortoise? Shaw never was much good at telling the difference) is also something of a sight to see. Luckily, he's far enough away that he probably won't see her eyes widen briefly in surprise... or narrow in suspicion, because yes, this is a most suspicious scene indeed.

"Aren't we supposed to leave those alone and let them do their thing?"

[thepurpleone]

To be fair, it's hard to tell given he's got a purple winter coat over his shell. One might be forgiven for thinking him just a green alien, really.

Donnie blinks as he slowly lowers his weapon, looking down at the snowblower. "I don't know, were we? I didn't see a formal memo. Anyway, they're not very intuitive. And this one was probably malfunctioning."

[cactusy]

"Oh, yeah? What was it doing?"

Still suspicious here; sorry, buddy.

[thepurpleone]

"It was shooting snow upwards instead of out," the turtle boy says, compacting his staff with a tap of a switch before he tucks it into his pocket. He stoops down beside the drone, dusting snow off of its chassis as his fingers seek out a panel he can potentially get open.

"And whatever sensors it has were making it go towards people instead of away from obstructions so this thing was chasing me around making a personal snowfall- which I do not at all appreciate, there's enough of that, thanks but no thanks."

[cactusy]

Well, okay; that's pretty valid. Honestly, if she'd encountered that she probably would have just shot it, which would... not really have been the best or most sustainable choice.

Her expression doesn't exactly soften, but she does grunt in acknowledgement and say, "Cool bō staff."

[thepurpleone]

Donnie rifles through pockets for a multitool, fumbling a bit before he gets the screwdriver portion out. He starts working at the panel he'd found, trying to pry it open.

"Oh, thanks. Made it myself," he says, pausing long enough to flash a grin at her. Compliments on his work are always more than welcome. "Are...you trying to fix things up in there or are you just marking hazards off?"

[cactusy]

"Just marking them; I don't know how to fix anything. I mean, I could jerry-rig something, sure, but--"

She leans further out the window, shakes the exterior fire escape to test the integrity of it, and is clearly satisfied with the results, as she swings her legs out the window and scoots down onto it.

"Why? You good at fixing stuff?"

[thepurpleone]

"I am all about fixing stuff!" Donnie says, just as he pops the paneling off. "My specialty is tech, but depending on the severity of the damage to the structure, I could probably manage something for that upper floor too, once I have a look at it. The real problem would be building materials." Not like there's a hardware store around.

"If the rest of the building is sound enough, we can probably repurpose materials from other ones that aren't as well off. -what is this sloppy wiring??" He scowls as he peers at the drone's inner workings.

[cactusy]

"Like that," she points out, probably unnecessarily. "Not useful for any structural engineering, but for other projects, sure. You wanna come up here and take a look at this floor?"

[sunglassesincluded]

While Wesker is also signed up for Security most of the time he tends to switch expertises whenever necessary. He also doesn't default to carry any of the provided weapons around. At least not in any notable way. One of the smaller models that he has done some work on however is holstered under his coat, as is his personal weapon. Not that either sees much use. Which, all things considered, is possibly for the best.

Needless to say that having this young woman show up to offer what he can only assume is protection is enough to earn her a brow being raised over the rim of the tall man's sunglasses. Then he shrugs.

"I am in no position to stop you." He answers simply and proceeds on his way. It's not like he is leaving Temba to seek out some secret hideout or whatever.

[cactusy]

"Not what I asked," she says dryly, though she'll follow along for at least a few more paces. "You're heading out alone; do you want a spotter with a big-ass gun or not?"

[sunglassesincluded]

Her dryness is mirrored in a short sound that may have an undertone of bemusement. "A big-ass gun has no value in the hands of an amateur." Wesker replies with a small gesture of his hand. It's a simple fact as far as he's concerned and one reason why he doesn't think simply arming everyone will solve anything. "How good is your aim?"

[cactusy]

It's a fair enough question, she supposes. With the way things are set up, she's pretty sure any random crew member could just grab a gun and carry it around regardless of whether or not they have security knowledge - and that's not even touching on whether or not they have training and experience from home.

"You see the circle on that sign there?" she asks, nodding at a sign hanging on an abandoned and derelict shop front where one of the alien letters does indeed look like a little circle. Lifting her gun, she takes aim and fires, and the energy pulse beam burns a hole right through the center of it.

[sunglassesincluded]

Wesker watches the demonstration with well cloaked interest. He can tell if someone has experience in using weapons. It's not just about firing and aiming, but also about being able to handle them safely and with the caution a potentially deadly tool needs to be handled with.

He does give a small nod at what he sees. "Acceptable." Wesker's attention returns to the woman. "Though neither of us should be firing any weapons within the city while there is no active threat present." He has had this discussion with Tommy already regarding the reckless use of his powers.

"You have experience." Wesker acknowledges as he turns to resume his way to leave Temba.

[cactusy]

That first comment gets a muttered Killjoy in response - though there's no sign that she's seriously annoyed, and she doesn't take any more potshots.

"I was in the military. And I did freelance stuff for a couple months after that; lotta gunfights in that job."

[sunglassesincluded]

Military. Well, that checks. Maybe the Agrii have finally started to realize that they should bring in a few more professionals rather than continue to flood the planet with more self-proclaimed super heroes.

"There are going to be notably fewer gunfights here." Wesker says in return. "This place makes up for it by being littered with idiots that consider themselves immortal."

[cactusy]

Shaw, an idiot who often acts as if she considers herself immortal, frowns slightly at the mention of fewer gunfights.

"So... we're looking at search-and-rescues more than fighting bad guys? Do the Agrii ever pull in bad guys by accident?"

[sunglassesincluded]

"More research than search so far." And unless one of their own is being clumsy again, there isn't much rescuing going on, either.

The term bad guys earns her a frown. "You are starting to sound like one of our self-proclaimed super heroes." Wesker remarks, unimpressed. "If you're not careful they will try to make you their designated villain just to glorify themselves by saving the day from yet another non-existent threat."

[cactusy]

"Well, that sounds weirdly specific," she says dryly. "What 'non-existent' threat did they see in you?"

[manofmanynames]

[A purple-and-white bipedal animal looks up when she calls out the window.]

Spray paint? Nah, can't say I do. I'll be wantin' some myself to finish off my hoverbike if I get a chance to make it, but right now it's a little early for that.

[cactusy]

[Shaw had called out when she saw movement - but it's only after the person she'd hailed speaks up that she really stops to look at them.]

You-- you're not the echnidna.

[But you're sure as hell not humanoid, either.]

[manofmanynames]

Knuckles? Why would I be him?

[cactusy]

You know what, never mind.

[Someone is still getting used to the nonhuman thing, but she's doing her best.]

What about regular paint? Anything eye-catching I can write on a wall with?

[manofmanynames]

I don't have any paint. You could try the welcome center or supplies or that replicator machine. Somebody must use paint around here....