Umbrella Surveillance System
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Chase Dalton Early morning in France. The sun glows brilliantly as it ascends from the horizon, turning the cloudless black sky a dusky reddish-amber shade as the day begins. A light rain pitter-patters down on the streets. Shopkeepers and civilians alike go about their business in the street. Patrons shuffle in and out of Jack's Bistro, night crowd heading off to bed, day crowd shuffling in and finding seats for breakfast. Chase Dalton, Junior Agent of the Federal Bioterrorism Commission, is among the latter, taking up one seat in a four-person booth. The man digs into his plate of steak, eggs, and hashed browns slathered in ketchup, sucks down his second cup of coffee, and finishes off the complimentary warm, fluffy, buttered croissant. A waitress appears from the back of the bistro, and begins handing out more from a fresh batch. Life is good.
Benny Benny is out for his early morning stroll to get his coffee and breakfast at Jack's Bistro. It is his favorite place after all and he's walking with a black umbrella opened to shield him from the rain. Yes, it sucks to be raining so much here but he's kind of used to it since he grew up on the West Coast of Canada, where it rained a lot during the winter months. He's wearing a black waxed cotton jacket, a black graphic t-shirt with the batman symbol on front, blue jeans and white adidas running shoes.

He shakes out his umbrella and closes it before he enters the Bistro, glancing around to see if he recognizes anyone and spots Chase, whom he's recently met but thinks of him as a friend. "Morning Chase. How are things?" He stands in line to order a coffee with soy milk and a butter croissant with egg, ham and tomatoes. After he pays for his order he walks over to the FBC Agent's table. "Mind if I join you?"
Sally Sally is up early. Some sort of jet lag. Hard to tell. Been up all night? Just completely messed up in her sleep pattern. Her first stop of her Europe swing, she staggers into the Bistro this morning.
James Scott A certain James Scott is also part of the breakfast crowd. He hasn't been seen here since the brawl broke out over the English victory over France. For those who have never seen him before he has a certain charm about him, clearly he was once a pretty boy, but now his body is a mismatch of scars. Among the most noticeable imperfections to his form would be where a portion of the middle of his ear appears to have been shot off, as well as a number of scars covering his arms ranging from bullets to bite marks. This teen has seen some shit.

He doesn't seem to be too interested in any one person until he looks up past his paper and catches sight of Benny. Casual as ever he sets the newspaper down and wanders over to the booth with his cup of coffee. "Yo, Benny. Guy from that fight. How's it going?" For anybody paying attention he's moving his left side carefully, almost like he received an injury recently.
Constance Early morning in France, it is still late night in North Carolina. Connie is still on Fort Bragg time, sunrise is just a thing. She walks into the pub, dressed in faded tight jeans, the bottoms tucked into brown suede combat boots. The woman wears a cotton dark red shirt under an open leather jacket. Save a hint of pink on her lips, no other make-up. A German beer order, it might set the keep off with tbd American accent.

Connie looks around, giving a few nods as she tries to figure out the who is who.
Chase Dalton "Damn," Chase mutters, sipping at his coffee. He makes a face, and then Benny shows up. "Hey, Benny. Sure, pull up a chair." A beat. "I'll tell you what... This French coffee reminds me of the shit I sucked down back in the 'stan in oh-one. Not bad, but.. needs some TLC." He chuckles to himself, and doctors up his coffee. "Brings back memories, for sure. Got time for a story?"
Sally Sally coming in properly into the cafe, the American student looks around, and then walks slowly to a seat at the bar. Not too far from the occupied booth, but far enough away that she's not being a nosy nelly. Blinking, rubbing her eyes, she asks with a laugh, in broken French "What can I wake up with please?"
Benny "Thanks Chase." Benny replies and then looks over at James, as he greets him. "James! Hey, morning I did't even see you there with that paper you had covering your face. I'm good. How are you?" He remembers that bar brawl quite clearly, since he was stone cold sober and that is where he met Chase in fact. He looks over at Chase, then back to James. "You feel like joining us? This is Chase by the way and Chase, this is James. We were all there that night when Emma got a bit tipsy." He blinks when he notices James favoring his left side, "You okay bud?" He knows James can take a lot of punishment and he remembers that he didn't clocked that bad during the bar brawl so this must be a new injury.

The Asian, then looks over at the new arrivals to the bistro, nodding politely to Sally when she walks in and his cheeks flush a bit when he notices her so he shyly looks away towards Constance whom he also doesn't know but gives her a polite nod, also looking away back to the guys at the table.
James Scott James manages to turn his head in time to catch sight of Sally, and for a moment his jaw actually drops slightly. Damn he loved Paris. Eventually he looks back at Benny, blinking a few times behind his dark sunglasses, "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Just took a holiday to Indonesia, seemed like everyone there wanted to take a bite out of me." The grin he flashes shows that it's supposed to be taken as a joke, but unbeknownst to the teen Chase was also there, just playing for a different side.

"I'd recommend the latte. Also, the owner's American." This is supplied to Sally, along with an unseen wink. Damn sunglasses. This seems to remind him that he has a coffee of his own, but unlike his recommendation, it's straight black.
Constance Connie saw the Effle Tower, twice now, once from the air on landing and once in person. Hey it was in that American Werewolf in Paris movie. When Sally settles next to her, "Just order like Starbucks, it works just fine." The blonde offers with a confident smile, "Connie." She adds, taking a draw from her early morning lager. Then she stands, rolling her neck once and turns her focus to the table. "More Americans that way." She adds, stepping towards the table with the men discussing the brawl. "Morning Sirs." She offers with a faint south western accent, Nevada or Arizona to a good ear. "Room cor more?" She asks, the military types might recognize her boots, but very likely the lacing and pants tuck.
Chase Dalton "So, there I was." Chase begins his trip down memory lane, hanging out with Benny and a couple of other folks. "Kandahar, Afghanistan -- One night I'm asleep in my bunk, next thing I know I'm being jostled awake, told to throw my gear on, and haul ass to the bird." All the while, he's talking with his hands like some Italian. "Whoever was flying that mish kicked major ass getting me and the rest of the team on-station." He rolls his shoulders, and continues to explain. "I hopped out of the bird, made my way to my perch, and settled in. Rest of the team continued on-mission. Stuff gets hairy /quick/. I start laying down fire," He makes like he's holding a rifle, and squinting down the scope. "And then out of the corner of my eye I notice this single motherfucker setting up to take a shot at me. Next thing I know, I hear this *crack*, and then feel this burning sensation in my shoulder, and I'm on my back, enjoying an eyefull of Afghan sky. I struggle to reach my radio, and send word up the chain. Black out after that. Wake up in a hospital. Be nice to buy a beer for the guys who saved my ass.."
Benny "Oh and of course I don't mind hearing about your story, Chase." Benny says to the FBC Agent as he sits down at the table, putting his drink and croissant breakfast sandwich down. He then looks over as Constance walks over to the table asking to join, "Oh hi. I'm Benny by the way and of course you may join in." He glances over towards Sally when James speaks to her, then looks back towards the rest of the table. "We were just sitting down for coffee and breakfast. So what brings you to Paris? You sound like your maybe from Texas or somewhere in the southern states if I'm not mistaken?" He has a north american accent himself but from the north or maybe even Caanda and blinks after listening to Chase's story. "Woah, that is intense and your lucky to be alive I guess."
James Scott "Oh, you want to hear a story then?" James turns his attention to Chase now. He doesn't wait for an answer before he starts talking. "Raccoon City, where I was born and raised. The outbreak had just happened and people were scared shitless. So I had this bright fucking idea, I'd raid the armory at the police station." As the teen speaks he slides into the booth as well, making room for more people to join. "Turns out I wasn't the only one with that thought it'd be a good idea. After shooting out way down to where all the gear was, there's this fucking explosions. We all run out, I split and joined with S.T.A.R.S captain Wesker and his group. We get out onto the fire escape and this big ugly fucker comes lumbering out. Nemesis they called it. It opened fire with it's minigun, filled my chest and legs with bullets and even blew off one of my testicles. Drug myself all the way back to our hideout." His attention turns back to Benny, "You remember that shit? Right before you gave me that concussion."
Constance Connie grabs a chair, literally by the back, swinging it around to settle in with a smooth confidence. "Texas, nothing ever.. Damn it, gotta stop doing that over seas. I am from Reno, Nevada. But really, Fort Bragg North Carolina." Then she glances to Chase, "Well, fine.. I'll take it. Later, when I can get something better than a beer. I flew medi-vacs out of Kanyland, so I accept on behalf of." The blonde says as she leans into the table a little. "So, what brings you all here?"
Sally Sally looks around the room, and giggles when she's stared at by someone. Then she's addressed. "I feel like it'd be insulting to France to order like Starbucks,"s he waves to Connie before she heads off to talk to others.Then her coffee arrives.
Trixie Trixie steps into Jack's from the street, absently combing at helmet-mussed hair with the fingers of both hands. "I am /so/ gonna regret returning that bike to the rental agency, I just know it," she murmurs. Some of the patrons may have heard the ripping-silk exhaust note of the big Ducati sportsbike in question rolling up to the bistro a few moments ago. Hearing two familiar voices, she smiles and waves to Benny and James, and then to Chase as he rises and heads for the door.

"Looks like I'm late to the party or somethin'," she observes, approaching the table where the four are gathered. "Good morning, everyone."
Benny "Bye Chase, I hope you don't mind me eating the rest of your hash browns that you left..." Benny says to the departing FBC Agent, then helps himself to the guy's remaining hashbrowns, yeah he hates wasting food and he's got no shame. He blinks when James brings up the Raccoon City Outbreak story, then the part about him giving him a concussion. "Umm...yeah, I was just trying to be polite to Chase when he told us his military story. I know we've been through a lot worse than that and you had to bring up the concussion thing didn't you?" He sighs softly, eating the remainder of the hashbrowns as quickly as possible, "It's in the past dude and I hope you would've let that go after all we've been through together." He doesn't want to get into the details with the new people at the table and their are ladies here. His cheeks flush a bit red when Constance corrects him on where she is from, "OH....uh sorry about that. I don't really know my American accents very well. The only place I ever lived was in Colorado and I'm from Canada originally. Always wanted to go to Reno though. Oh you fly helicoptors that is pretty cool and welcome to Paris. I'm pretty new here myself. I work for the IT department at the embassy. Exciting I know, right?" He gets even more blushy when Sally joins the table. "Hi..." then when Trixie comes in to join, he quickly stuffs the remaining croissant into his mouth and devours it without much tact. "Twixie! Gweat seeing ya...gotta go bye." He leaves his coffee on the table, waves to people and then dashes out the door. His face was kinda red, hopefully he isn't choking or anything.
Sally Sally gets up and walks around a bit. She's trying to keep awake. Sipping her coffee, the girl does happen to walk by the table. Glancing over, curious but not trying to intrude.
James Scott "Oh, I haven't forgotten. Not even close Benny." James practically spits the phrase once the man has left, a red glow coming from behind his glasses. Apparently one thing that hasn't changed about James since the Raccoon incident was his temper. He does manage to take a few deep breaths and the glowing fades away, whatever it was gone for now. "Sorry about that. But no, they just showed up. The party never even got a chance to start."
Constance Constance glances back towards the other American, Sally, giving a wave over. Lost the hashbrowns, too slow. Connie nods to Benny as the group shrinks, then Trixie come over. "Hi there. Constance." She turns up her German lager to finish it, then gestures to the newly opened seats in invitation.
Trixie "Um, take care?" Trixie watches Benny exit, running, stage left. "Wow... he looked awful. I hope he wasn't choking or anything, 'cause no way could I catch him and give him the heimlech maneuver," she observes, managing a smile for Constance. "Hi, Constance. I'm Trixie. James I already know. Anyone mind if i sit down? Hi, James," she says, almost in rapid succession. She smiles at Sally, noting Constance's wave-over. "Feel free to join us, Ma'am," she says in invitation.
Sally Sally is addressed by two folks, so the American from California steps right up to them. "Oh god hi," she laughs. "This must be a popular cafe with foreigners or something? Is that why I came?"
Constance Connie looks over Trixie as she speaks, "Nice to meet you, Trixie." Then a little twist to Sally, "Maybe? Summoned by the American vibe?" The blonde says, guessing that the best reply. She shifts the chair back in a noisy fashion to make room for people to get by her and sit. "Who bas been been long enough to know what to eat?" The empty bottle ks slid to the table out of everybody's arm space.
Trixie "Likewise," Trixie replies to Connie. "And this place is owned and run by an American who ran a successful bar back across the Atlantic, in Colorado. So yeah, definite Yankee vibe. I've never tried the breakfast menu, so I'm afraid you're on your own. If it helps any, so am I." She smiles to Sally, indicating the empty chairs that remain. "It could be, yeah. Hi. I'm Trixie. What should I call you?"
Sally Sally takes a seat with the group, on the edge of the table, since it seems like there's plenty of room onw. "The American vibe? Oh I can see that. I mean the name is kind of... not French," she giggles. "Mayb it's asubconcious thiong. I'm Sally."
Constance Even in jeans and a coat, Constance is easily called out as military from the lacing on the brown suede combat boots, and the tuck of the jeans into them. The straight spine helps too. "What sort of bike?" She asks to reference the previous comment by Trixie. Her head shifting back to Sally, "So, what brings you to Paris? I am here to attach to my unit."
Trixie Trixie can't help giggling as Sally perches on the edge of the table. "Oh, /totally/ not French," she agrees, her tone warm and friendly. "Interesting choice of seating, Miss Sally. So, what brings you to Paris? Maybe the tables are classier in France?" The last is in a gently teasing tone.

She grins at Constance, noting the military vibe from the blonde woman. "Nice to meet you, and it's a Ducati. A rental... I'm just ashore on leave. I'm hating taking it back already, though. Maybe I can point you to your unit? Kind of still getting the feel for Paris myself."
Sally Sally glances to each of the two,a nd snickers. "Well um. I graduated high school, and so I'm taking a gap year to travel. So like.. I'm starting with Europe. Paris. Seems like th eprefect city to stop in, you know? What's a ducati?"
Constance Connie glances about, stopping a waitress to order something to eat. When Trixie asks about her unit, Connie glances at her, hesitating for a few seconds. "Sounds fun. Next stop Holland?" She asks playfully, then turns to Trixie, "Biohazard Response, I have another." A glance at her watch, "Twelve hours till I report in."
Trixie "Well, that makes it easy... that's my unit, too. I don't have to be back aboard for most of twelve hours, so we can ride back together. We'll just have to make sure we don't miss our bird," Trixie replies, nodding to Connie. "I can show you where it is easy enough."

She turns back to Sally, her warm smile warming a bit more. "A big Italian-made sportsbike. Thought it was going to be too big for me, but it was all the place had available. Good thing for me the balance was tres magnifique... that's French for totally sweet, but you probably know that better than me. Seems like almost everyone's French is better than mine."
Sally Sally giggles "Oh a bike. Yeah I've never done that so I guess that's why I dont' know the brands and stuff." She then tilts her head to the side a bit. "My French sucks. I'm pretty sure I only got my order off since like... this is a cafe catering to Americans like me. Oh, and probably Germany next."
Constance Constance motions the croissant basket to be put on the table, waving her hand in invitation, "I think they mostly speak English, if they pretend they don't, I yapp at them in Mexican." She reaches for a twisted biscuit, "Don't be shy, grab some chow." Then she laughs, "I have it on high authority, I won't miss the bird. " A bite and swallow, "I am the chopper-jockey. Transfered in from First Cav out of Fort Bragg."
Trixie Trixie shrugs, reaching for a croissant. "My Spanish is worse than my French, so I'd better hang with you when I'm ordering," she muses, then grins at Constance. "Oh, wow... I'd better stay on your good side, hadn't I? Aircraft commander's above the President on her own bird and all," she adds playfully. "And please, let me be the first to welcome you to the U.S.S. Liberty. And get used to the smell of jet fuel, 'cause you can't get away from it while you're aboard. I've tried."

She smiles at Sally, stifling a giggle of her own. "I haven't been riding long, so I don't know all that many names myself. Just some of the ones back in the States. This one was my first Ducati, but I doubt it'll be my last. And maybe you'll pick up more French while you're here?"
Sally Sally leans over as well. She has one hand holding her coffee, so the other grabs some bread. "Thanks a lot," she smiles. "My sleeping is so messed up right now. I can't tell if I'm up all night or up early. It's what... um... 8 or 9 hours difference? from California?" She snickesr again. "And the military is tootally cool. Thank you for your service."
Constance "Thank you." Constance says to Trixie and then leans a little, "We are only tyrants cause we are terrified of our lead mechanics. I am pretty laid back." She motions for a drink, then looks back the table, "Thank you, Sally. It is always nice to be appreciated. My Pops was in 'Nam, so I know to be grateful."
Trixie "I'll keep that in strictest confidence, promise," Trixie replies, her tone gently impish. "And I'm glad you are. Got enough tyrants on board as-is." She takes a nibble of her croissant and chews thoughtfully before adding, "Thank you, Miss Sally. Dad was a Ranger, and he taught me to be grateful for our brave servicemen and women. Just never thought I'd be one of them." She shrugs. "Life took an unexpected twist, or I might've been perched on the edge of a table in Paris myself right now," she adds impishly.
Sally Sally nods to both of them. "Daddy's in business, so likeI don't know anything about military stuff. I just know it's important somebody did it." She then looks down at herself. "Not that there's anything wrong with being perched on a table right?" Giggle.
Trixie Trixie takes a long look at the tabletop as Sally speaks, shaking her head after a moment. "Not unless someone spilled maple syrup on that edge before you sat down," she says confidentially.
Constance Connie reaches a hand into her jacket pocket, pulling out a flip-phone (It is 2005.) She taps through and pulls up her number. Then she gives a little laugh at the syrup comment. She puts it down on the table, "Those are my digits. I have to send my mom a package of French stuff. So, if you need me. " It is said to both, but she looks to ally with a nod, "You too, encase you need an American while we are in the area."
Sally Sally lets out a squeak, and hops off of the tabke. "Oh my god." Looking at the table, rubbing her hip, she then laughs "Oh god there was nothing there." Sighing heavily, releived, hshe returns to that same spot. "Very funny. Very funny." She then gathers herself to record the number.
Trixie Trixie dissolves in giggles as Sally hops off of the table. It's most of a minute before she can stop laughing. "Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry... I couldn't resist! You were just so cute when you were like 'Eeeek!' and jumped up like that," she says to Sally, through the remnants of her giggling fit. As Connie puts her phone down, she fishes into a pocket for a scrap of paper and a pen and hastily writes the number down. "Thanks, Miss Constance. I just might need this," she says warmly. "May I have your number too, Miss Sally? Just in case I need it?"
Constance Connie waits for the pair to get up, wolfing down her second croissant as they copy. "Have fun."
Sally Sally finally settles down, and takes a few bites of her snack, and a few sips of her coffee to settle down. "You really scared me," she laughs. Then the ask for the number, so she sets the things in her hands down, and this time pulls out not one but two phones. "Do you want my American number or my European number? Or how about both?"
Trixie "Thank you again, Miss Constance. I'll be careful not to use it lightly," Trixie promises, taking a second croissant from the basket. She giggles as Sally produces two phones. "Both! Just might need to reach you across the pond, y'know?" she replies, playfully. "Life moves too fast to take chances, right?"
Sally Sally waves ast Constantine leaves, and sips some more. "I guess everyone but me is feeling awake, though maybe the syrup thing woke me up."
Trixie "See you on the bird home, Miss Constance," Trixie calls to the departing pilot, waving to her. She hastily finishes taking down the numbers before returning pen and paper to her pocket. "And it's about nine hours ahead of California, if I've done my math right. Which isn't guaranteed, as it's not my best subject. So, how long have you been in Paris?"
Sally Sally looks at her phone, well, one of them, to see the time. She then snickers "Oh god, I think... I got here last night, or the night before. The days kind of lumped together for me right now. This jet lag sucks so bad." Then she finally finsihes the bread she's been nibbling on. "So one or two days. I'm not 100 percent sure, you know? You?"
Trixie "I agree, jet lag /does/ suck. And I've been in-theater for about four months or so... hmmmmm... maybe two weeks in Paris itself, when I'm on shore leave. Which is /totally/ worth it, 'cause I don't have to wear earplugs to sleep and I don't smell jet fuel all the time." Trixie makes a wry face at the thought. "One thing the movies never get right is just now noisy real military ships are. Especially carriers."
Cecily      Cecily looks a little worse for wear, even after a night of sleep and a good shower. Black boots, black pants, black tank top, and a thin jacket to fight the morning air. And of course, she's got a cap on. A white fleece beanie with fox ears and a :3 face on it. Fluffy fuzzy fox ears. She beelines to the counter to order some tea then takes a seat, seeing a familiar woman, an unfamiliar woman, and a basket of croissants. Perfect. "Morning, dears..." she says softly.
Sally Sally is seated on the edge of a table, at a booth, that Trixie is seated at. She has a coffee in one hand, and is putting her phones away with the other. Yes, two. "Hello," she says to the newcomer. Then to Trixie. "Um... YEah like... god. It sounds annoying."
Trixie "Between aircraft noise and the constant smell of jet fuel? It's definitely got its moments," Trixie agrees, nodding. "Thankfully, I have served at worse bases than a carrier," she adds, unable to suppress a strong shudder at the memory. Cecily's arrival interrupts anything she had been about to say, and she smiles at the taller woman. "Good morning, Miss Cecily," she says warmly. "Love your cap."
Cecily     Cecily plunks down in the booth next to Trixie, since she knows the woman, and smiles politely at Sally. She cradles a mug of tea in both hands, oversized and full of steaming goodness. "Good morning, dear," she says gently, and then laughs quietly. "Thank you. I've... had it for a while.. keeps someone close to my heart when I can't be at her side," she states. The wedding band on her finger might also be telling, too. "I've slept in worse places, too," she nods in agreement, expression going down very quickly, but she reaches out for a buttery croissant and takes it, nibbling on it to hide her face.
Sally Sally gets up slowl, grunting. "So I've been up a long time... i'm going to go back to my hotel room and rest. Thanks for the food and the conversatoin." Looking to Cecily. "I'm Sally by the way."
Trixie "Sweet dreams, Miss Sally. Hope to see you around sometime soon," Trixie says softly, offering a fingertip wave to the girl. She looks to Cecily, nodding sympathetically. "Bet it was in Raccoon City. That's one berth I'll /never/ forget. No matter how hard I try..."
Cecily     "Pleased to meet you, dear, I'm Cecily," the fox-cap woman says kindly after swallowing her bite of croissant. She bows her head politely, then glances back to Trixie. "...yes, exactly..." she says very quietly.
Trixie Trixie gently lays her hand over Cecily's free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We made it out, and that counts for something," she says, very nearly in a whisper. "And someday there's going to be a reckoning for Raccoon city. I promise."
Isabel Coming in the door now is a fellow survivor, though it's not obvious on the surface. Isabel Welsh wasn't one of the heroes of that doomed metropolis, though her recent internet videos have gained some notoriety as a possible showcase of the terrors there.
She pauses in the doorway for a moment, frowning thoughtfully at the interior of the place. It's got an element of the familiar to it, though she can't place the place it reminds her of. She rests her hand on her laptop bag, though; she's learned that the only thing more ubiquitous than French food in Paris is French pickpockets.
Cecily      Thankfully, Cecily looks neither French nor like a pickpocket. Instead she's sharing a booth, sitting next to Trixie, nomming thoughtfully on a croissant. Her fox-eared beanie is a picture of adorable, white fleece, floofy ears, and a :3 face on the front in black thread. "Someday..." she nods at Trixie, back to being fairly quiet for now, however. She sighs and finishes her bite, then washes it down with a sip from her almost comically large mug of tea.
Trixie Trixie waits until Cecily has set down the tea mug before hugging her tightly and supportively. "Someday," she whispers.

It's a moment before she becomes aware of Isabel standing at the door. Blushing faintly, she looks over Cecily's shoulder at the dark-haired girl, halfway recognizing her but unable to place from where. "Hey," she calls warmly. "Come on in. Don't worry, we don't bite."
Isabel The place isn't the only thing familiar here, or so Isabel discovers once her eyes adjust to the dimmer light inside. The girl in the fox beanie and her tablemate are both familiar. The sudden hug would catch her attention if the hat hadn't already.
She offers a faint, slightly sheepish smile to the two, as Trixie addresses her. "I wasn't sure I wouldn't be intruding," she says after a moment, moving to join them. "And I'm glad you speak English, Miss. At least we can talk without guessing."
"Hello, Miss," she adds, to Cecily. "Is it just me, or have I met you both someplace before?"
Cecily      Cecily stiffens a little as she's suddenly embraced, but the bespectacled ravenette just sighs and sinks into it, eyes closing. "Mmh... too many lost... for... what? Some... terrorist plot or a.. grand experiment..?" she asks quietly, shaking her head. She looks over her shoulder as she hears another voice, eyes opening again. "Maybe...?" she asks, blinking. She had the fox beanie on then, too. It's a permanent accessory for her. Unless she's out on an operation.
Trixie "Grand's not the word I'd use, sweetie," Trixie replies softly. "But it was both, I'll bet." She looks to Isabel, smiling faintly. "You're not intruding, sweetie, promise. And we both do. So's the owner and the staff... he's a transplant from Raccoon City, Colorado. Forgive my staring, but you look so familiar... I just can't remember where I've seen you before."
Isabel "I have, I'm sure. If I didn't know your face, I'd know that hat," Isabel says, stifling giggles as she gets a better look at Cecily. "And your voice," she adds, nodding and smiling to Trixie. "I was in Raccoon City, too. I guess I kind of blended into the background."
She bows her head politely. "I'm Isabel Welsh. I've been doing internet videos about what happened there."
Cecily     "Well it was something.." Cecily mumbles to Trixie, then glances up at Isabel. "Sorry if I don't remember you then, dear..." she gives a lopsided smile that isn't quite a full one. But she nods. "...I was at the church. Almost didn't make it out..." she says quietly, then shakes her head. "Internet videos? I admit I've been trying my best to not remember."
Trixie "So was I... it was my squad that was assigned to secure the evac route. But we got cut off about halfway there. We lost four on the way to the evac zone, one through selfless sacrifice... only three of us lived to reach the helos," Trixie says, giving Cecily one last little comforting squeeze before gently releasing her. "I only saw one of your videos, Miss Welch, but it was well done. I don't know what you do for a living, but you've definitely got a future in video production and maybe journalism."
Isabel "It's all right. I was only at the church a few times, myself. I suspect there are a lot of people I never met by name," Isabel admits. "I do remember a sergeant that looked a lot like you," she adds, nodding to Trixie. "Meeting you wasn't one of my better moments, but I was glad to know someone so brave."
She nods to Cecily, her blue eyes softening. "I understand why you'd wish to forget the matter. Sometimes I would, too. I make them for people who weren't there, who still don't believe something like that could happen, in the US or anywhere else."
Cecily     "It really could happen anywhere..." Cecily says softly, making a soft noise as she's given one more little squeeze. She nods gratefully to Trixie, and gives her a knowing look when she says those words, too. Back to Isabel, she gives a shrug. "...well.. I'm doing my best to try and see that it doesn't happen again. But I'm not so sure some days. It's more than a little terrifying. Overwhelming, even, sometimes. But the more that people know, the better, hopefully?"
Trixie Trixie smiles wryly at Isabel's dubious praise. "Thanks... I think. But I wasn't a bit brave. Most of the time I was scared out of my wits, wondering how long we had left to live. But there was a job that had to be done, or none of us were getting out. So we did it, and it eventually paid off."

She looks between the two, nodding. "I've heard that the media's calling that cruise ship disaster a hoax now. Like a whole giant floating luxury hotel could or would just vanish in this day and age. Makes me wonder who's hiding what, and why. Public skepticism is Umbrella's greatest ally."
Isabel "Then you're /very/ brave. No one is unafraid, unless they're insane. Those who push their fear aside and do what must be done are the bravest people there are. And that means that I'm talking to /two/ very brave people," Isabel says, with a smile for Cecily and Trixie both. "If you both are still trying to keep it from happening again, you are far braver than me."
She frowns, recalling those headlines. "I heard about that. It sounded like the same thing all over again, only in a smaller space. The one thing I'm certain of is that no one was lying, or simply hysterical. Was it Umbrella again? I know they were responsible for Raccoon City.
Cecily     "I know it was real enough. These... events... can't be as isolated as people want to believe. But the media is easily swayed by the right coins in the right pockets..." Cecily gives a little shrug. She hides her face when Isabel lavishes praise in her direction, and her cheeks turn a bright pink. "I was a police officer in Raccoon City. I just try to do what's right... and all of this... this is wrong..." she murmurs softly. "I just try to help fight for those who can't, you know?"
Trixie "More likely I'm very /insane/, going up against that ever again," Trixie replies wryly, but she manages a smile for Isabel. "Nice to know there are people who are behind us, at least. We don't get a lot of that."

She look to Cecily. "They're not. Umbrella's been busy since Raccoon City, and they're at it again. We're gonna have plenty of fighting to do for those who can't in the very near future."
Isabel Isabel hesitates, then steps close and gives Cecily a hug. "All this is /very/ wrong. I make my videos for those who can no longer speak for themselves. You fight for those who cannot do it for themselves. In that, we are very much alike."
She nods to Trixie, frowning. "It would seem that Umbrella was not content to destroy one city, then. Now a cruise ship, and next... what?"
Cecily      Cecily makes a surprised noise as the semi-stranger wraps those arms around her. She blinks at Isabel in confusion, still blushing, and reaches a warm hand up to pat one of the arms around her. She's still got her tea, after all! And the flaky goodness of breakfast in front of her. "Thank you, dear," she gives a shy smile to the other woman.
    She finally finishes her croissant, and looks at her half-empty mug of tea. She takes a long, slow drink from it, and slowly moves to stand. "Ship's smaller than a city, but... I don't think it's a matter of scale? I.. think I'm going to go get some fresh air. Nice seeing you again, though," she says quietly to Isabel, nodding politely. "Going to go catch a show, too, maybe. Don't think I want to be alone in my head for the rest of the day. Too much thinking can be bad for you, mm?" she gives a lopsided smile. "I'd hit the library but all of the books here are in French.. suppose that's the downside of being abroad."
Trixie Trixie shakes her head. "No idea. They may have turned to selling their poisons on the black market, or decided to infect another city or other community. Just no telling. Only pattern is that they're testing these creations of theirs. So it'll probably be awful nasty when it does happen. I'd stay indoors if you get wind of any weird doings."

She gives Cecily a lopsided smile of her own. "I've got to get my bike back to the rental shop. I'm gonna regret it, I just know it. Have to rent another Ducati next time I'm ashore. Maybe I'll catch that show with you if you'd like company, Cecily? Chopper back to the ship doesn't leave for almost twelve hours." She pauses long enough to claim one last croissant for the road, and to pat Isabel's shoulder. "Better keep that video camera of yours ready. You might have subject matter before you know it. Take care." With that, she walks out to the parked bike outside, nibbling on the croissant.
Isabel Isabel, seeing the confusion, blushes a little herself. "I'm sorry if that was awkward. I just felt like... I should show my appreciation somehow. I guess just saying thank you might have worked better. Please, have a good evening."
She nods to Trixie, smiling a little. "It would seem I'm not done with it yet. Please be safe. You know what these incidents can be like."
Left alone in the restaurant, she moves to find a seat of her own. Might as well eat while she's here.
Cecily     Cecily hadn't quite walked out, yet. Trixie seems to wander off first. The woman in the fox-cap brings the basket of croissants over, though there's really only a couple left, and deposits them on Isabel's table. She gently reciprocates the hug, "I don't think I've done anything worthy of appreciation, dear, but thank you just the same. Here, these are still warm, and already paid for. Try the honey butter, it's delightful," she says kindly.