Chapter 3

[thenine]

Who: OTA
Where: Quad
When: Week IV, Day VII - Week VI, Day VI
Summary: Chapter 3 prompts!
Restrictions/Warnings: Violence, blood, et cetera. For anything surpassing 'R' on a rating scale, please create your own log.
Notes: Please title your subject line in the following format -- Open / Closed | Date. OOC event information can be found here. Calendar information/dates can be found here.

Quick Navigation
The Nine
The Company
Westies
True Leithians
Leith
Resistance
The RAC

The Nine: Promises Unmade

Using the increase in unrest, as so many opportunists do, those within the Nine who seek to pursue their own agendas - whether that be family prestige, personal gain, or systematic upheaval - will find bountiful footholds to secure their positions. Land Kendry continues to assert itself as a leader in these troubling times, with Land Derrish falling in tow. Their first target, Land Hyponia, is shaken, careful not to make any mistakes that could crumble the already cracked mortar holding them together with the nobility. Aggressive though Land Derrish may have been, their sights have moved elsewhere, now focusing on driving forward oppressive legislation to replace the Seventh Generation Accords, rather than further eroding the power of Land Hyponia. Kendry is looking to control a functioning oligarchy, not cause a war over the territory that would be up for grabs should Land Hyponia fall. With the announcement of the Seventh Generation accords confirming already widespread rumors, those within the Nine are careful to place blame for the decision on the activities of the Resistance. For many, this is a believable conclusion, as the attacks by the True Leithans shook society at its core on both Westerley and Leith. Being a radical group, their intentions have been conflated with those of the Resistance in the eyes of many. Discourse on the subject isn't uncommon, but any within the Nine who seek a different target of blame best do so quietly, as dissent from within could quickly have one labeled a sympathizer of the unjust cause of the Resistance. On the surface a harmless placating measure taken by the Nine, the new PDDs being distributed through the Quad are touted as the pinnacle of communication technology. While some higher ranking Company officials and members of the nobility may already have access to quick and reliable network connection, these capabilities are now universal with the installation of the Meshwork. The Meshwork will enable all characters to interact in real time via text, video, or voice, but it isn't without side effects. For some reason, characters who frequently use their PDDs or who are in areas of heavily concentrated network use may suffer from headaches, nosebleeds, blurred vision, and/or dizziness, with more severe side effects including temporary blindness, loss of balance, short-term memory loss, and hallucinations. Connection of these symptoms to the PDDs is not the most common diagnosis, as many think the afflictions are a result of the aftershocks of P43X.

The Company: Balancing Act

With clean up from the P43X attack not yet completed, all Company officials should expect to have no singular responsibility, and little time for sleep, as they find the expectations levied upon them to only grow. Frayed nerves can create a hostile working environment, though anyone could be on the receiving end of any outbursts. The streets have returned from their throes of death with new life, but the city's usual clamor is being overtaken by the roar of protest. Some are peaceful demonstrations; some are violent riots, every display a reaction to the repeal of the Seventh Generation Accords. …At least, that’s what it says on paper, the docket that many Company officials receive outlining simple but brutal crowd control and suppression tasks. Whether a bar has been taken over as a hub of dissent, a street corner filled with unmoving protestors, or a Company affiliated storehouse raided, there's plenty to do for those tasked with keeping the peace. You may simply wish to make arrests, or you may welcome the chance to get your hands dirty - the law is on your side, and all voices daring to oppose the order of things need silenced. Those who don't take to the streets will likely find themselves on border control duty, checking the identification and supply dossiers of all incoming and outgoing ships. No one gets in, or out, without the proper clearance. Ship-wide searches have become standard practice, producing storerooms overflowing with contraband. Some may welcome the chance for banal organization, while others may take some 'bonus compensation' for themselves. With the tightening of rules comes the increase of bribery, and Company officials looking to line their pockets will find their opportunities in surplus. Get caught, however, and there's no second-chances. Although the Company audits have concluded, tensions only grow, and anyone found helping those with diverging agendas will be punished swiftly, cast in with the rest of the dissenters.

Westies: Tidal Force

Bereavement weighs heavy in the wake of the P43X attack on Westerley. Burdened by being both the last location of infection and the last to receive medicinal aid, Westies are entrenched in the solemn task of burying their fallen while the merciless machine of the economy marches on. Whether it’s the result of a lost loved one or the continued illness of primary caretakers, the end result is the same: families all across Old Town struggle to feed their children and make ends meet. It’s always been a guiding principle of Westerley—if you can’t work, you can’t eat—but with so many who can do neither, the situation in Old Town begins to grow dire. But there’s hope, albeit in the form of a double-edged blade: with the newly distributed PDDs and Meshwork installation, nonprofit organizations are able to conduct themselves on a wider scale, drawing in more donors from outside of Westerley. While their efforts are ultimately but a drop in the ocean, the renewed spirit of community and altruism provides relief—as well as nourishment—for many who might very well die without it. That same tool which allows the people to come together is also used to rend it; rumors begin to circulate through encrypted bulletins about the emergency meeting held on (Week IV, Day VII). Some of the rumors are wild speculation and fanciful daydreams, but in the mire of them, a grain of truth slips through. The Accords have fallen, they say. Be ready. Most people disregard the rumors, writing them off as the idle machinations of conspiracy theorists. They cling to their hope that soon their children will walk a planet that is bountiful in food and sunshine, that the land promised on Leith will deliver them from the hell they current endure. It’s those people who shout the loudest when the official announcement confirms the rumor. The Accords have been repealed. (Week V, Day III) At first, protestors gather in small, grumbling groups, little more than angry drunks. But as more and more people take to the Meshwork, the wrath of the few awakens the desperation of the many, and over the course of the night, the peaceful protest swells into an unruly riot. Workers strike, but without any legal protection, they swiftly find themselves rebuked by unemployment. Now with nothing to lose and everything to gain, the riots expand, filling the streets of Old Town with anger and tension. Company personnel become popular targets, and within the next day, all travel permits to and from Westerley are temporarily revoked. The moon closes its docks in an attempt to smother the flames of the rebellion. What starts as a movement for change shifts into a violent cataclysm, homes and businesses burned down, families torn apart by dissent within and outside of themselves. The Company seems content to let Old Town destroy itself, to let them “get it out of their system”, but all too soon that stance changes as well. With the death of a distant cousin of the Derrish, Company orders shift. Lethal force is authorized, and all too eagerly, used. Once the death toll begins to climb, the protests decline. The riots soften, though they do not disappear outright. Company and Westie optimists take to podiums in a desperate attempt to bid their fellow compatriots once more into peace. But something else awakens in the fires of those riots. Something far more dangerous than the chaos of anger: something controlled, methodical. They call themselves Hyperion, and they are the new faces of the Resistance.

True Leithians: Rested Laurels

For this faction, the time to scatter is nigh. Their work is complete: the Accords are no more, and the militant leaders order the reintegration of their soldiers into civilian life. Leith’s rightful owners retain the precious land that was once threatened, and although their methods were extreme, they are justified by the end result. But while the True Leithians see this as only a rested pause in their work, their benefactors—those who provided the resource and information that allowed their wicked deeds to see fruition—see this time as the closing of a chapter. Loose ends that might later lead to Qreshi officials or even potentially the Nine themselves are dealt with severely and harshly, albeit quietly. Several prominent figures of Leith’s highest echelon of society simply disappear, and curiously, those around them don’t seem to remember that they were ever there in the first place. Their benefactors are not the only group that would see the True Leithians burn. Among the first wave of missions delegated beneath the Resistance is the assassination of known True Leithian sympathizers. Unlike the Company, the members of Hyperion are ordered to perform their tasks loudly, to send a message written in the blood of the True Leithians. The citizens of Westerley will no longer be the gutless pawns of the Quad. They will strike back, and they will uncover the source of the True Leithian’s funding and information. If the True Leithians thought themselves ruthless, they’ll soon learn a new measure of savagery when Hyperion converges on their trail.

Leith: Olive Branch

The atmosphere of Leith is one of both hope and mourning. Recovery on Leith proceeds more efficiently than that on Westerley, their infrastructure and resources better able to accommodate those that were felled in the P43X attack. But although agency has the streets of Leith cleaner and the surfaces shining, the spirit of the moon itself suffers a devastating blow in the wake of the attack, the people of Leith unprepared and unseasoned to deal with the psychological ramifications of so much death. But they are not yet hardened by the experience, drawing together in the spirit of cooperation to restore not just the physical aspects of their homes, but the mental fortitude of their people. Charity drives and galas proceed in extravagant fashion, as if by the display of their assets they might rebel against the somber circumstances on which they’re hosted. For most on Leith, the fall of the Accords arrives as welcomed news, the citizens of the moon long since opposed to sharing their land with those of Westerley. But although the sense of satisfaction with the ends is high, there’s also an undercurrent of regret for the means which provided it. Unlike the True Leithians, most of the citizens of Leith are not radical or extreme, and they offer their sympathies—but only their sympathies—to those Westies in their midst. News of the riots results in tighter security around the Westies still stationed on the moon, and for the days that the violent storm on Westerley builds, Leith in turn becomes markedly quieter and more conscientious. Moderates come together over the Meshwork and propose a Peace Summit, a meeting of both delegation and charity, once the riots and dangers of traveling have passed. The summit is sanctioned by Leithian officials, as well as the allocation of surplus resources to aid their sister moon in her recovery. While many citizens of Leith eagerly await the news of lands once lost to their families for the Accords, many more donate their time and hands as part of the newly created Good Will Corps, a coalition of both political pundits and regular people devoted to strengthening the connection between the moons rather than sowing division. Volunteers—and some individuals who are voluntold, join the Good Will Corps on a trip to Old Town where the Peace Summit is scheduled (Week VI, Day III), lending their time, their labor, and their technology as a gesture of good faith. But whether or not that’s sufficient to see the Peace Summit garner any steps towards system stability is another matter altogether.

Resistance: Sacred Grove

The people of the Quad barely have time to remove the packaging from their new PDDs before a new voice of dissent begins to worm its way down the feed. Encrypted messages, quick flashes of imagery begin appearing at random on open networks and closed channels alike, pitting the harsh realities of the suffering, suffocating Westerley against the excess and decadence on display by both Leithians and the Nine, showcasing the disparity in the starkest of lights. All of it aimed at one purpose, to spread one solemn truth: the branches of the Mother Tree are burning… and the Nine seem to be holding the matches. The name whispered, the one goading dissent, echoes through the Quad - Hyperion - followed slowly with the murmur of hope. Of an intellect so profound that not even the Nine themselves will be able to stop it. With an artful ease, this new force begins to reach out, to commandeer the discordant efforts of the Resistance and reforge it into something stronger, faster. Deadlier. It starts with a select few receiving instructions directing them to safe houses already stocked with equipment and supplies, each with tech tailored to that cell's purpose and loaded with dossiers far too complete to have been compiled by the average citizen. Some of the background information appears to come directly from the records of the Company, or the Nine themselves, while still more from planets outside the Quad. Some even hint at records long since sealed by the RAC. Nothing points to one faction over another. Nothing reveals the how or why this Hyperion has decided to play these particular cards now, but one thing is quite clear. There's a deep laid plan being set into motion, and neither the Company or the Nine will see it coming. All these leaders have to do is gather their forces...

The RAC: New Grade

The citizens of the Quad were not the only ones affected by the P43X - the upper ranks of the RAC's field agents is notably thinner - and with tensions shifting yet again between the moons, they cannot afford to be ill-prepared and understaffed. In order to bolster their ranks, the decision comes down the pipe of a new assessment system: Peer Evaluations. Many of those that have been in their current ranks - those between Levels I - III - will be eligible to receive a two-part assessment of their capabilities to operate efficiently at the next level through successful completion of live warrants. These field evaluations can be conducted by any Level IV agent and turned into Central Command for compilation and rank change approval. Unlike the lower level agents, Level IV assessments will still be conducted by RAC's Central Command, once all of the subordinate assessments have been completed and processed. These agents should take note - part of their own evaluations for Level V will be the efficiency with which they're able to evaluate those below them. During this time, warrants will still flow in and agents sent to answer - especially once the travel bans go into effect on Westerley, as those agents alone bearing active warrants will be able to enter and leave the atmosphere, though their docking point will be limited to the Prisoner Intake facilities.

Comments

Royce Melborn - open + closed prompts

[bywolves]

[ a top level for keeping things straight! contact me at tahdis if you'd like to plot anything! ]

open!

[bywolves]

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ꜰɪᴠᴇ

[ For anybody who is looking specifically for Duster, thief for hire, this week he's making an extra effort to be available. After the announcements of the Accords, Royce figures now, more than anything, there's going to be a lot of people looking to dig up dirt on other people and ruin them out of revenge. He leaves his number just about everywhere you might think to look, in the shadiest of places.

In bathrooms, in back-alley gambling dens, in bars and lounges, you can find slips of paper with the words: Duster, thief for hire. Need something stolen? Anything goes. And under that is scrawled his PDD number.

It might be a while before he can actually get to those messages, though. The riots erupt early into the morning of day four, and Royce absolutely gets caught up in them, despite trying to stay out of them.

It'd be more than reasonable to find a small, cloaked man in an alleyway nursing a few wounds, making annoyed sounds as he wraps his cuts and scrapes. ]

(closed - W5D3) for kate

[bywolves]

[ Lucky for Royce, he's in the middle of Old Town when the riots start. So, you know, right in the middle of everything. He's there when the first person that gets tired of protesting peacefully throws a punch, and it pretty much descends into riots like a flame hitting oil. Royce tries to keep out of the way, but it's near impossible.

He manages to get out of the biggest crowd without too much damage, but as he's racing to try and get back to his apartment to gather his things together and hide the rest of the riots out, he gets cut off. There's a small coalition of people setting fires about a block away from his apartment, and they've managed to set off an explosion that practically makes the ground shake.

Royce stumbles back a few feet as the heat flashes in his face. He grabs for his knife, the knife he's had since he was a kid, but the rioters flood the streets and gather around the explosion and Royce is small enough that the crowd is liable to drag him under.

Unless a certain Resistance member sees him. ]

blows kisses

[fledges]

[Kate has been trying desperately to keep things from getting out of hand, but they get out of hand anyway, of course. Royce is lucky that Kate is moving through the crowd as the explosion goes off, and she's close enough to yank him to his feet and pull him to the side, pulling him into a doorway. It's a close thing, but they both squish in, out of the way. And then she recognizes him.]

Duster? What are you doing here?

smooches

[bywolves]

[ jeSUS hi, Kate. Royce nearly has a heart attack at being grabbed and like - look, you have to be expecting him to have a knife up to her throat. Before he realizes who she is, anyway - once he does, he lowers it. ]

Bishop. [ Royce acknowledges. He takes a deep breath, and then has to turn away a bit to cough. ] My apartment used to be around here, that's what.

roYCE

[fledges]

[Kate freezes, giving him a judgmental look as he lowers the knife. She can't really blame him, but she also has to give him a bit of a hard time.]

"Used to". Did you lose it?

WHAT YOU STARTLED HIM

[bywolves]

[ Listen, she could've been anybody. ]

I did, actually. Stood up and walked away. Got itself blown up. [ Royce doesn't actually know if it has or not, but. That's what he's assuming. ]

LMFAO GOD!!!

[fledges]

Too bad. Maybe that's your punishment for breaking into other peoples' apartments, huh?

[She tugs him a little closer to the door.]

Do you need somewhere to stay?

[bywolves]

[ Royce gives her a look. This is not funny, Kate! ]

Not if you're offering, no. [ His tone is a little annoyed, but it actually isn't her fault. ]

(closed - W5D4) for keith

[bywolves]

[ Royce would really like the riots to stop, thanks.

Mostly because he keeps getting caught up in them. This time, he's trying to climb his way out of mob, but it's hard when everything is on fire. He's got his hand on the roof of the second story of a building when some asshole down in the street starts throwing rocks, which throws him off balance. Royce has to redirect and drop down into a dumpster to avoid being a splatter on the floor - and when he pulls himself out of said dumpster, he's more than a little furious.

The rioters are making their way down the alleyway, though, breaking everything they can find, and Royce has to go through them in order to get out. He makes it okay, except towards the end of the mob, someone shoves him hard enough to knock him to the ground - which is almost certainly a bad time in an angry crowd like this. ]

[impulsors]

[ It's still simmering, all grumbles and little bursts of violence kept to Old Town's backstreets and not its grimy storefronts, its old-fashioned windows worn with polish. They're angry, are the people knocking over garbage cans and piling down the way; but they're still workers with mouths to feed and beds to tumble into at the end of the day -- not the fury-forged body of a real mob, heedless of everything but the need to burn things down. Bad sign, but it's nothing he can't actually take.

Not that actual danger would stop Keith from pushing his way through a cramping alleyway. He's got armor. He can deal. ]

Hey!

[ It's a blur at the corner of his eye -- the slam of shoulder to shoulder, kicks and a roar, a body falling -- and (stupid, stupid) Keith whirls back, elbowing his way to drag the figure back up and out of the way. He's got a hand braced beneath an elbow, a hand steadying against his back, before the face actually resolves and registers. ]

Wait -- you?

[ He has to shout to make himself heard -- not that it matters when he's hauling them both for the last couple steps into open air. ]

What're you doing here?

[bywolves]

[ Yes, him - and Royce is vaguely glad that he's not been curbstomped, but mostly, he's annoyed that he had to be rescued at all. Especially by this guy, the killjoy he recognizes. Royce scowls at Keith as he's dragged up, wrenching his arm away from the guy the second they're out in said open air and putting his back to a wall. Any wall, he doesn't care. ]

I live here. [ Royce snaps, aggravated. ] What are you doing here?

[impulsors]

[ Stripped of the insulating crowd, Royce looks (and reeks) very much like a guy who landed in an dumpster and got dragged across a patch of concrete that's probably had at least three crimes committed on it. Keith steps back, folds his arms tight; an eye flicks back to the alley in a deep-felt expression. ]

You live here.

[ In a dumpster? ]

[bywolves]

[ ... Okay, listen, you. Royce scowls even further. ]

General here. [ Royce massages the bridge of his nose. ] Westerley here. Though if these riots keep going - never mind. I doubt you live here. Which brings me to my question.

[impulsors]

. . . some people were talking about calling in the Company a couple streets up. They think it's worse than it is.

[ It's both answer and warning in the same sharp note -- derailed, abruptly, as context filters back in. Clearly Royce isn't a rioter. What he is, on the other hand -- ]

You should probably take off.

[bywolves]

I was trying to, before the rioters found me. [ Royce has absolutely no interest in rioting whatsoever. He's also not going to thank Keith for helping him, because he's a jerk. ] What do you plan to do?

[ Out of curiosity. Information gathering is information gathering. ]

(closed - W5D5) for lavi

[bywolves]

[ It's been a week. It's been a shitty week, but Royce isn't going to complain too much. He's not surprised, by any means, that things went horribly, and he's not surprised that the Accords fell through. Of course they did. Who could ever trust a bunch of nobles to follow through on promises that would make them less rich?

Something always... stirs in the back of his head, when he thinks about that. But he ignores it.

Kate helped him before. And Royce doesn't - he doesn't need help right this second necessarily, but he does need to check in on her. She's annoying, sure, but she's been useful. And while he won't be laying low at her place, he will be dropping in here before he heads elsewhere. Which means he just, y'know. Breaks into her place, like usual.

Or he tries to, anyway. He's at her window on her floor, lifting the window so he can slide right in. He's assuming that most people are more concerned with themselves at the moment, on top of being injured here and there, so he's not being as sneaky as usual. ]

[inksplashes]

[ Ostensibly, he's here to check in on an informant of sorts, a marker of historical events that has earned a place in his records. On the surface, that's what Kate is -- what their relationship falls to -- a summary in a record, a cliff note left at the end of a page with a small number.

Calm steps, easy smiles, hands in his pockets, head tilted down. Some of the passing people take pause, scan him for signs of Company insignia, but the badge at his arm wards them off.

Killjoy, not a cop.

So when he sees the shroud of shadow at Kate's window, deftly slipping through, he keeps his pace. Wears his smile without pause.

(Inside his mind is ticking, turning, clicking, humming. Who is that? Why are they here? Someone to hurt his friend--

His source--

But she's not helpless, and they'd know that.)

His right hand falls towards his hip, fingers brush the weapon holstered there, then lower, touching the compact hammer strapped to his thigh.

No, not needed. This isn't a warrant he's pursuing, at least not yet. Best to be friendly about it. Maybe they didn't know that doors are ordinarily for the entering, and it's polite to knock.

Lavi demonstrates, then, knocking once, twice, knuckles a soft rap on the door. Casually, calmly: ]

Did ya know this is a custom of the people, friend? Knocking on the door when you wanna get inside someone's place. Windows went out of fashion centuries ago.

[bywolves]

[ Royce doesn't answer at first as he's gone through the window, but after a moment, he peeks back out at Lavi, expression flat under the dark hood he's wearing. ]

I like to consider myself old-fashioned. [ Royce says. He's not worried. Killjoy, not a cop - not someone who is going to arrest his straight out. He doesn't have any warrants on him right now. He's fine. He'll be okay. He has his papers. ] She isn't home.

[inksplashes]

Probably why she didn't let you in, if I had to guess. [ It's flatly delivered with a twist of a smile to accompany the words, though he adds a quick glance at his sidearm and back to the hooded figure to make the intent of the statement clear.

Not law enforcement, no--at least, not in a traditional sense--but something that's quite liable to be dangerous for thieves nonetheless.

A friend of the owner.

Arms crossed loosely over his chest, he leans his hip against the wall, brow tilted up. ]

What's your name? I'll let her know you stopped by. She'll be so disappointed she couldn't put on tea for your arrival.

[bywolves]

Duster.

[ Like hell is he giving this guy his real name. As far as Royce knows, there aren't many people who can connect Royce Melborn to Duster. Royce is not happy about the very casual glance to his sidearm - that there is a threat, and Royce doesn't take those well, even minor as this. ]

Not much of your business. If Bishop wanted me out, she'd set up traps on her window, sir.

[ Not law enforcement, sure, but Royce is going to be a dick about it anyway. That's the most insincere sir ever. ]

[inksplashes]

[ (un)Fortunately, Lavi doesn't flinch or show the slightest concern that the issued sir was said with dripping derision. If anything, his smile gets a little wider, eye crinkling up with it just enough to make it look genuine.

"Duster" is right, of course. It really shouldn't be his business, Kate is just an informant--but it's the principle of the thing. It's creepy as hell to sneak into a girl's window and interpret the lack of traps as permission.

Which brings him to his next point: ]

Actually, Buster, I'm thinkin' that a guy who breaks into people's places probably has some warrants kickin' around for similar feats.

[ Not exactly a leap between breaking and entering and burglary, he figures, and practically no one who wears low hoods has good intentions. Popular cinema has taught him as much. ]

So it could just as well be my business if I want it to be. And right now? There's a creepy dude at my friend's place and she's not here, so yeah, I want it to be. Where is she?

[bywolves]

[ The warrants threat gets Royce tense, bristling. He's pretty sure he doesn't have any out - though how the hell would he know? And here's this guy, just flaunting his Killjoy status. Royce is not even remotely inclined to be nice, now. ]

I don't know where she is. [ Royce says angrily. ] Which was why I was checking her apartment. She's probably waist deep in helping people, as usual.

[ For as terrible as his methods are, Royce is actually trying to check up on Kate. ]

Did you want to try focusing on finding her, or continue to threaten to arrest me?

(closed - W6D1) for rhys

[bywolves]

[ Royce gets a backlog of messages for Duster once the riots are over, which he thought he might. It's good for business, chaos like this. What gets his attention the most, however, is a message from one member of the Nine in particular. Senior Vice-President of Westerlyn Resource Acquisition & Management Inquiries - it's a mouthful, but hey, most governmental titles are. The reason it catches his attention is because he knows that people with titles like these have a lot of joy to throw around, which means Royce rearranges his schedule to see this guy first.

It takes some doing, but Royce manages to arrange a meeting on Leith. The Bazaar is open and a good place for meetings, and in any case, he doesn't much mind being there. It's nice. The air isn't terrible, and it feels better on his lungs.

He'll be on the lookout for Rhys - he has a general idea of what this guy looks like, and he's straight up going to be an asshole and attempt to sneak up on the guy. It's almost second nature for him to do it. ]

I'm so sorry for how late this is

[rhygret]

[ Goddamnit Royce, Rhys is terrible at noticing when people do that?? Like if his life depended on being alert for these sorts of things Rhys would...well, he wouldn't be around very long. So it's a good thing Royce is in it for the Joy and not the murder because Rhys isn't trying to hide who he is now that Leith is for the most part very favourable towards The Nine for the cessation of the Accords. He wears his purple Kendry colours on a sash ties around his middle as he roams the Bazaar, equally as eager to meet the man taking up this job for him.

Like he tends to always favour, Rhys heads for the tea houses. It the location he'd set at previous less-than-savoury encounters, but it's also where he tends to go whenever he doesn't feel like being in the office. Even if he's more of a coffee drinker than a tea person.

The point is, he won't be hard to find as he heads towards one House in particular, as relaxed as one can be when they're about to hire someone illegally for a job. ]