2007-02-17: Common Ruins


Jane_icon.gif Clint_icon.gif

Summary: Jane calls Clint after her meeting with Rianna and shares some information. They go to his apartment from there, and he takes off on a mission leaving her stashed away at his place.

Date It Happened: February 17th, 2007

Common Ruins

Midtown West, outside what used to be Common Grounds.

In the early afternoon, the day after all she witnessed the night before in Central Park and was told of what happened here by Clint, Jane comes to stand outside and look at whatever remains of the building. She's standing as close as she can get to the ruins without violating whatever crime scene tape might be in place. It's a contemplative, troubled expression she wears on her face at the sight of it, and her fingers pull the phone from her pocket. They press digits, her goal to make a certain quarterback's phone ring.

The phone rings, and Clint sits up in his bed, back at his apartment. He answers it, eyes still heavy, "Huh? Jane? What's up?"

"Yeah," she replies solemnly, "it's me, Clint." Her voice sounds as if she has something on her mind. "Did, did I wake you?" Jane's eyes continue to focus on the destroyed purveyor of caffeine and other things tasty as she speaks.

"What? No." He lies, as he gets out of his bed, "Where are you?" He asks, "I'll be right over." He feels a lot better after a good night's sleep. He was so worn down after his rapid power use yesterday.

"I'm outside the coffee shop," Jane answers. "I've been out walking and thinking. So, so much information to process, get my mind around. And I wound up here, one of the places involved with it all." She pauses, saying simply when her voice resumes "I'll see you soon."

Sooner than she thinks, as Clint appears, cell phone in hand, behind her, in an alleyway. He clicks it off, "Jane." He says, as he walks over and hugs her. He thankfully changed clothes from yesterday evening. Never a good idea to show up in the same spot with the same stuff on. Especially if the government guys who he knows already know about this place are watching it somehow.

She, clad in her usual winter coat, jeans, and hooded sweatshirt (this one's sans emblem), turns at the sound of his voice and closes her phone. Before pocketing it, Jane steps to meet the man, leaning into his hug and resting in the comfort of it for some extended moments. "So, so good to see you, quarterback. See you unhurt." Her guitar is absent, it's only the backpack over her shoulder today.

Clint hugs her back, and smiles a bit. Hey, she knows his position. That's good, "Hey, listen. I just want you to know that I was perfectly fine last night." He says, "Nothing to worry about at all, okay?"

"I know," she replies softly. "You were probably in more danger when linebackers wanted to take your head off. I think you like risk, it's part of why you enjoy the game. The challenge, and the joy of overcoming it. I'm starting to like it too." Jane steps back a bit, looking up to meet his eyes if she can. "Got things to talk about." Her mood seems calm, but also subdued, like she's carrying a weight in her mind.

There's a faint chuckle, "Yeah.." He says, "I guess you're right about that." He keeps his arm around her, looking towards the burnt out store, "What did you want to talk about?" He asks, trying to just hold her close, not just for warmth, but to make sure she's still there.

She doesn't resist being held close to him, in fact she leans into and enjoys it. "We're both exposed, Clint," Jane replies solemnly. "They probably know about you, after what you did last night, the people who were around. So am I. I was approached by a woman calling herself Arianna Rockford-Johannsen. She knew about me, about things that happened when my talents first appeared."

Clint blinks a bit, "She did?" He asks, "Hrm.." He rubs his chin faintly, "What all did she have to say?" If they do know about us, he thinks…Maybe they should ask these people for help. In his mind, if they wanted us dead, they could have already done so..

A deep breath is drawn, and she commences to tell the story. "She claims to run a foundation whose goal is to help the children of the future. That's what she called us, children of the future. Evolved individuals. We talked quite a bit, I asked questions, and got answers. It clears some things up, and also raises some concerns. Apparently, there are at least three organizations at work here. A company which hides under the cover of Primatech Paper, something she called the Linderman Group, and her Foundation."

Clint hmms quietly, "I see.." He says, "Three groups, huh? Wonder which one is the good guys.." He says, quietly, as he pats her back with a hand, "Listen…Next time she wants to talk to you, call me." He says, "Okay? I'll pop over and we'll talk to her together. Same goes if anybody from any of these other groups shows up. I want to be there to make sure you say safe, so they don't try anything."

She nods slowly, and pulls a card from her pocket, which has Rianna's name on it along with a phone number written in ink. "Rianna claims this phone would be answered 24/7, I can call it anytime I want. I think, based on what she told me and other things I've learned, hers is the best of the bunch. She claimed one of her goals is the gathering of political clout, like the Linderman group, but she's not sure what Daniel Linderman's other agendas might be. Primatech, I think, are the ones who seem most likely to take people off the street, mark them, and alter memories." Jane pauses, taking time to let him absorb what she's said.

Clint nods a little bit, listening to the story, "Well.." He says, "I don't like the idea of siding with any of these groups, but chances are this crazy chick who was flinging fire you talked about is either from this Primatech group, or she used to be with them and went crazy or something.." He says, "So we'll give her a call, talk to her. Maybe she can help us out somehow.."

Nodding, Jane replies "I think so too. In fact, I think taking the initiative with Primatech might be best too." There's another pause, and during it an expression of shame and fear settles onto her face. She reaches out, hoping to clasp his hands and make eye contact, drawing another deep breath. "Rianna has an ability too. She proved it to me, told me things I was thinking, and during the interview I stopped talking for a while. Thought over what she was saying, asked questions in my mind, and she answered them. The memory loss on someone I met, that may have been the work of a six foot black man from Haiti. According to Rianna, he can also negate the abilities of people around him. I…" her voice falters, "I promised not to betray your trust, and I hope I haven't. I never mentioned your name to her, and, and, I tried not to think of you. I don't believe I did, but I can't guarantee it. It's so hard not to, when thinking and talking about all that's happening."

"Well.." Clint says, "I think we should set up another meeting with her, then. I'll test her abilities out, and I won't say anything to her. Let her figure it out from there.." He smirks a bit, "Also, there's these paintings…" He says, "Those are something I want to ask her about.."

An expression of relief settles over her as he seems untroubled by what might've been inadvertently transmitted during her meeting. "I should make a chart of some sort," Jane muses, "holding what we've learned and from who, for references from time to time. They like to catalog, we can catalog them too. That's the part which scares me most," she admits, some of that emotion, her terror at the prospect showing in her eyes, "being marked like a lab animal."

Clint hrms a bit, "Don't worry about it." He says, "Jane, I want you to stay put somewhere, okay?" He asks, "Stay in your hotel…Or better yet, move to another hotel room. Contact this Rianna chick, if you can, maybe she can set you up in a safehouse." He says, "I'll join you when I can.."

"I… I don't want to hide, Clint," Jane answers slowly. "I'd much rather face them straight up. Rianna advised me to speak with them, let them say their piece, but she also recommended not to go if they asked me to go somewhere with them. Also, to not give any reason for detaining me." Her head tilts to one side, studying the man curiously. "Are you planning something?"

Clint hrms, "Alright." He says, "Well…You could probably get in touch with them, somehow.." He says, "There was a guy at the coffee shop, this big dude, who had metal skin. I think he's with one of those groups.." He says, with a soft grunt, "If you can find him, it might be a way to make contact with them.."

"Metal skin," she replies with a slight shake to her head and surprised eyes. "That's… different. But aren't they all? Rianna said basically if I can imagine it, it probably exists as an ability." A pause is taken, she uses it to mull things over for a moment, and offers quietly "I can go somewhere, lay low for a day, maybe do some research or try to write songs."

Clint hmms, "I'll hide you at my apartment." He says, "It's the best place I can think of. Somewhere they won't think to look for you, since they haven't put you and me together.

"That'll work," Jane answers with a quiet smile, seeming ready to set out for that location. "Shall we, Gatorman Twenty-One?"
Clint nods, and grins, "Yes, we shall." He says, as he takes hold of her hand, and whisks her away to his apartment on the other side of Manhattan. It's a sudden trip, but lo, there they are, "Listen, Jane." He says, once they get back, "I've got to help a friend with something. They're calling in a favor, if you will. So I'm gonna help them."

Her eyes close, she draws in a deep breath as her hand is reached for, and steels herself. A moment later, at his apartment, Jane reopens them to see her new location. Her knees falter a bit, the woman seems dizzy, but manages to stay conscious and upright this time. "Whoa," she whispers. "Intense. But I'm getting better at handling it."

Clint chuckles a little bit, "I do it all the time and I'm still not entirely used to it." He says, with a soft smile, "Alright, make yourself at home.."

She settles in, wandering around a bit and taking measure of the place before raiding his fridge for food and taking up the TV remote to see what's on. With a chuckle Jane remarks "Be careful out there, qb, and don't be surprised if I steal an old jersey or three for sleeping shirts to take home."

Clint chuckles a little bit, "Don't worry about it." He says, "There's always more where those came from." He smirks, "I'll even sign one for you."

"Thanks," she replies, fingers working the remote to go through the program guide and find something of interest. It's set aside briefly as Jane stands and crosses to him, her arms opening to hug the man before he goes to do whatever he's got to do.

Clint hugs her, and smiles a bit, "I'll be back later." He says, with a bit of a smile, "Trust me, what I'm about to do is for the best of everybody. Especially you." And with that, he's gone. Off to Kirby Plaza, and destiny.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License