Umbrella Surveillance System
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James Scott Welcome to Paris, where when it rains it storms. The weather hasn't let up any causing most people to seek refuge inside shops and restaurants. As a result Jack's Bistro is packed once again. James Scott is one of the people currently at the bar. The teen wasn't here to hide out from the rain though, rather he just didn't want to drink alone. As it turned out the moment he took his seat the two men closest to him got up and left, one of which was missing several of his front teeth.
Hunter What was with this damn Bistro and rain? The last time she had come down this way, it had been raining. Emma had been here last time, kind as she was, but now? It was later. It was full of the more... ruffian-esque sorts that came out of the woodwork when the sun crept below the horizon. People like her. With her hood up, the teenager quietly slid into the bistro. Her attire was drenched, hanging limply off her well-concealed body. With a small hiss of air rushing between clenched teeth, Hunter lowered her hood and ruffled the water from her auburn hair. It was a pain in the ass getting caught in the rain, but she couldn't say she hated the rain itself. It was oddly... calming

Her eyes swept the bistro. It was much busier than the last time she had been here, by a wide margin. Lots of drunks, she would imagine, given the time of night. Steel-green eyes fell upon James, a flicker of recognition sparking behind them. James... he had been at that fancy ass mansion where she had first met Emma and Archene. Quietly she began making her way towards him, taking one of the now empty stools beside James. Her greeting was a simple one.

"Hey."
Chase Dalton The sound of a motorcycle flying high-speed along the streets cuts through the air, eventually terminating as the thing itself pulls into the bistro's parking lot, and Chase dismounts. He heads into the diner, orders up a burger, fries, and soda, and settles into a seat to await his order. His phone buzzes abruptly, and he taps at his earbud. "Yeah? ... Alright. Send the details to my phone. I'm at Jack's grabbing lunch." Another tap terminates the call. He continues waiting.
James Scott James looks over at Hunter as she approaches. "Hey." He doesn't look quite the same. His hair has grown out more, he appears to be in the process of growing a beard, and his right eye is milky and unseeing. "Looks like you had to walk all the way here in the rain, so how about I pay for you this time?"

For what it's worth the teen doesn't seem to be flirting any more, on top of that it doesn't even look like he recognizes Hunter at the moment. But then again he is sat at the bar nursing a glass of Johnnie Walker. "Unless you don't want me to. That's fine with me too."
Hunter Once she got closer, he almost looked like a different dude. Gone was the flirtatious smirk and the flowery words. His hair was longer and he had more of a beard... but that wasn't what concerned her. His eye. The hell was wrong with his eye? For a moment she just stared. "...the hell happened to you, man?" Realizing she was being rude, she awkwardly cleared her throat and looked away to give him some privacy.

"Ah... I mean... nah, you don't have t'pay fer me. You look like y'need a drink though. You full up on that or can I help?"
Chase Dalton Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Chase's food arrives. He digs into the food with the vim and vigor of someone who hasn't had a good meal for quite some time, though whether that's actually the case is left to the imagination. He gulps down the soda, and chows down on the burger and fries. Of course, he may be a hungry man, but he still has his manners.. so he tones down the chowing a good bit.
James Scott "Oh, just work. I caught a bullet to the face." James lifts his shoulders in an easy shrug. "It's ugly, isn't it?" His grin is a sad one. It was no secret that he used to use his looks as a weapon. "But between us I'm just tired today is all."

He takes a drink from his glass without giving any indication that it's alcohol, he may as well be drinking a cola. "I actually have a bar back at my place." As soon as he finishes speaking recognition dawns across his features and he flashes an apologetic smile. "Hunter, right? Sorry I didn't recognize you, it's been one hell of a week. But I'm not hurting for cash, I just got paid." Of course, some of it was deducted for medical costs. "So I really don't mind buying you a drink or a meal."
Hunter A bullet. A goddamn, honest to god BULLET? Hunter had seen some shit living on the streets, but she had never quite been around when someone got shot...and nevermind in the EYE. Her own young eyes widened slightly. What the hell kind of job did this guy do?! When her expression normalized, she shook her head. The girl held a hand out to catch the sleeve of the barkeep who was walking by behind the counter they sat at. Offering a polite smile, she quietly ordered some whiskey for James. She had no idea whether he liked Whiskey, but that had always been papa's drink of choice. She ordered a simple beer for herself before thanking the barkeep as he walked away to prepare the drinks.

"Dude, can it, yer gettin' a drink. Who the hell shot you? WHY did they shoot you? How the bloody hell d'you survive a bullet to the face?!"
Chase Dalton "Barkeep," Chase saunters up to the bar, after discarding his trash. "A Black Russian for myself, and--" He glances to the others at the bar. "--if these fine folks want something, it's on me." He shrugs. Once his drink arrives, he pops off a friendly two-finger salute, and heads back to his seat.
James Scott "I work security." James explains. When Hunter freaks out about getting shot he leans back and tugs the bottom of his shirt up, exposing his stomach. A number of scars cover the area, some appear to be claw marks but a majority of the scars look to be caused by bullets. "The fact that I was even alive to get shot in the face is a miracle. I took a handful of shots from a minigun in Raccoon. Losing my eye was nothing to losing my testicle."

And then Chase comes up to the bar. "Chase." he calls out, "Mind coming here?"
Hunter Good god, this man was a bullet sponge. No, a bullet MAGNET. Inwardly she felt awful... for a split second she had forgotten that he was a survivor of Raccoon City. While her pain was secondary in that incident, here he was, covered in very real scars from actual survival. He had lost a teste even. Augh.

"S-Sorry, James. At least, I'm glad yer relatively okay." A man came up and essentially put their drinks on his tab. Inwardly she was annoyed. Everyone trying to buy her things and now she couldn't even show kindness to someone who she felt could really use it? Was everyone just a good person with a soul full of sunshine in France?! Apparently James recognized the man, someone named Chase... keen eyes peered at the man as James called for him to come over. What kind of business did they have, she wondered?
Chase Dalton FBC Agent Dalton glanced up to James. "What's up?" He grabs his drink, and heads over. He glances to Hunter. "Hi. Chase Dalton, Federal Bioterrorism Commission." Out comes the badge, if only briefly. And then back to James.
James Scott "It's alright. And thank you for the drink." James says to Hunter with a warm smile. He wasn't about to shit on her gift. The drink he was nursing gets turned up and quickly replaced with the new arrival. His good eye goes back to Chase when he comes back over.

"Gandalf." It's a simple word, more of a test than anything. That blue eye of his is glued to the man for the moment, hoping to gauge his reaction in order to see if he'll be any help.
Hunter Hunter nodded politely as if to say 'no worries'. Her gaze then turned back to who she now knew was Chase Dalton. He was with the FBC? What kind of people was she getting involved with...? Not only that, but that word. Gandalf? The crazy wizard from LotR? Was this some kind of code word? Had she walked into a spy movie? Just what was going on here? Hunter had felt like a black sheep before; an outcast, an outlier... but never like this before. These were dangerous dudes, and she was what? A street punk from the States? She suddenly felt very small.

Instead of asking questions, Hunter merely kept her gaze on Chase, waiting for him to answer James. Overall she was a good study of body language and character, and after that simple word, she was curious as to how he would respond. With her eyes still glued to Chase, she took a sip of her beer.
Chase Dalton "Legolas," Chase responds, shrugging. "Good movie. Books are better." He sips at his drink, and settles in, stretching luxuriously. He glances at the clock, and then to James. "I'm more into Tom Clancy, though. Spent many years reading his books."
James Scott "I see. Guess they didn't send you to Afghanistan. Maybe you were in Indonesia then?" James arches a single brow before taking the whiskey Hunter bought him. "If you could refrain from mentioning this to anybody else in your little group that'd be nice. I also hope you didn't mention me being in the catacombs in your report. It was bad enough having to deal with those Terrasave cannibals."

With that said he looks back at Hunter now. "So, what've you been up to? It's been a long time since I've seen you. Hope you've at least found a place to sleep that isn't outside."
Hunter Okay well... that SOUNDED like a lot of things she shouldn't have heard. Things that people could kill her for knowing. That was what went down in spy movies, right? What caught her attention was the way James spoke of TerraSave. Hunter's back suddenly straightened and her eyes narrowed. TerraSave... cannibals? What the hell was that supposed to mean? When she spoke, her voice was unusually guarded.

"...I've been sleeping under a bridge. S'warm enough and not too many homeless drunks bother me. I've also been looking into TerraSave. Could you explain that 'cannibal' bit? Or would you have to kill me if you told me?" She was definitely a bit more on edge now.
Chase Dalton "Not the 'Stan." Chase confirms, shaking his head to James. "And I don't just willy-nilly mention everything. I still know a thing or two about OpSec, and InfoSec." Drink, drink, drink goes Chase. Is he part fish? Who knows.
James Scott "I wouldn't kill you, I like you." James shoots Hunter a wink then takes a drink from the whiskey. "Besides, you bought me a drink, I owe you one. As for TerraSave, a couple members went crazy and moved into the catacombs. Started killing and eating people. That's actually when I lost my eye." He straightens up a little bit, twisting slightly so his back will crack. Chase, having been there when it all happened, would be able to tell that there's no way his face should be healed to the degree it is yet. "That offer from before still stands, I've two extra bedrooms in my apartment if you want to stay a night or two. Should pay off the drink."

As for Chase he gets a slight nod. "Well, that's too bad. Guess I'll just have to move on to the next person."
Hunter The catacombs? Hunter's gaze quickly moved to the door. The catacombs... she could get there relatively easily from here. It was the only lead she had to find someone from TerraSave. Then again... she glanced back to James' eye. Whatever was in there, she wasn't sure she could handle it. Hell, the fact that there was something, someone, in there that could do this and the police weren't involved? It was a bit scary. The young girl bit her lip unconsciously, a look of thought frozen there on her face. After a few moments, she spoke up.

"...Thanks fer the offer, but again, I'll be fine on m'own. Got this far, haven't I?" She made an attempt at a grin, but it came off as lacking. Flat.
Chase Dalton "Well," Chase says, standing. "I think I've had about all I can stand for one day. I'll catch you folks later." He flips a wave to the waitstaff, fishes a few bills out of his wallet for payment, heads out into the fine Paris air, hops onto his bike, and speeds off into the distance, the roar of the engine cutting through the air.
James Scott "If you're thinking about going down there, don't. They were lone wolves. But I'll ask around for you, I know some people. The biggest issue is being able to find you once I get your information. Guess I can just walk around checking under bridges. Then again, it shouldn't be too hard to find you. Beautiful people stick out." James rests his elbows on the bar, gaze moving forward to check out the various bottles lining the wall. As Chase leaves he gets a slight wave. "I don't like him. They just ran off and left me down there after I got shot. If they had it their way I'd have just been more bones to add to the pile."
Hunter A small sigh escaped her and she slumped a bit onto the bar, head resting in her arms as her gaze fell upon her half empty beer. Of course he was right. Compared to these people, she was like toddler lost in the woods. Still, she was getting closer. Towards making a difference? Towards getting revenge? She wasn't sure, but she knew she was on the right path. The whole reason she had agreed to this courier job wasn't just for the money... it was to find TerraSave. After what happened to her parents, it was all she could really do to help. Those who were injured were already dead or taken care of. Those who lost families, she couldn't do anything for them. What she could do was try to make sure it never happened again. Just one face in a sea of many couldn't do much, but she knew in her heart that she had to try. That was why she was here, in this foreign country, surrounded by these crazy military or spy or hero guys, completely out of her element. Like always, she would adapt. Either you adapted, or you died; that was the rule of the streets.

"I appreciate it, you askin' 'round fer me. I can tell y'what bridge I hang out under. Ain't hard t'miss, really." She went quiet for a moment, thinking very hard about what she was about to say. Grey-green eyes lifted to peer directly into his remaining eye, the expression on her face earnest, inquisitive. "What happened down there? Why did they... why were they doin' that? TerraSave's supposed t'be good..."
James Scott "Don't judge a person by who they work for." James says simply. He could even be speaking for himself. "At the end of the day it's what a person does, not what banner they rally under. Those two just happened to be fucking crazy." The glass in his hand is sat back down on the bar and he returns his gaze to Hunter. "And I'm sorry for talking business in front of you. You don't know me from Adam. To clear things up, the man they call Gandalf is a man his organization is looking for. That's not his real name obviously, but he's my father. I haven't had the chance to meet him yet, but I'm hoping I'll be able to track him down one day." It must be true what they said, alcohol will loosen a person's tongue.
Hunter Don't judge a person by who they work for. It rang with a bit of truth, but something didn't sit well with her. Who someone chose to surround themselves with mattered. If someone threw their hand in with someone like... like Umbrella? How could she even trust them? They would have to have a reason to be with that organization... and if that organization was responsible for untold suffereing? Then what? A bitter exhale escaped from between clenched teeth.

"Sounds like somethin' someone who worked fer the bad guys'd say. But I guess yer right. People and organizations're different... but not entirely. Y'gotta wonder why some folks would toss their hat in with known demons an' the like."

After a few moments, she nodded. Gandalf was code, that much she knew... but now that she knew what it meant? She felt a sudden and unexpected surge of relief. It was his father. One corner of her mouth flickered, as if trying to smile. "I hope y'find yer Ol' Man, James."
James Scott "I do too, I've got some stuff I want to ask him." The emotions that flicker behind James' eye aren't pleasant, but they're gone in an instant. "I really wish you'd of caught me in a better mood. Seems like everyone is feeling down this week." He does manage to flash a charming smile though. "Hey, are you hungry?"
Hunter Hunter nodded. She caught the emotion behind the young man's eyes but couldn't quite process what it was; it was gone too fast. With a shrug, Hunter downed the rest of her beer. "It's been bucketin' for the past week, yer lookin' fer yer Da after losin' an eye, I can't seem t'find an organization t'save my life, an' there's canibals livin' right under our boots. I don't reckon there's lots t'be happy 'bout right now, d'you?"

Hunter flashed a grin of her own, carefully sliding the empty beer bottle away from them.

Hunter quickly shook her head. "Nah, already ate." She said naturally, as if used to saying it. Her stomach, silenced for so long, performed a coup and promptly rumbled in protest. Hunter glared at it. "Hush now, y'dope."
James Scott "Well, I can't in good conscience let you go hungry." James jerks a thumb backwards towards the door, "I'd buy you something from here, but if I stay I know I'll keep drinking and I've already had a few. But I happen to know a spot right up the road where that won't be an issue." He's managed to cheer himself up at least, so he doesn't appear to be quite as doom and gloom.
Hunter As much as she wanted to decline again, she didn't quite have the heart to. The man was looking for his father, had just lost an eye, and survived the horror of Raccoon City... the least she could do was let him buy her dinner. Hunter put down a few bills to pay for their drinks before hopping nimbly from the stool to follow James, pulling her hood up to cover her face in one smooth motion.

"What kind o'place is it?" She asked curiously, following the tall man to the door.
James Scott "It's just a modest little place. I'm sure you'll like it." James sends a wink Hunter's way as he pushes up, tossing a few euro's down to tip the bartender, after all a fellow Raccoon survivor owns the place. With that taken care off he takes his umbrella and leads the way out onto the sidewalk, careful to help keep the woman dry if she allows it.