Open Post 001

[2020mod]

• Step one: start a thread in this post!
• Step two: specify who the thread is for (or open) in this post!
• Step three: make people reply to this post!
• AND THAT'S THE WAY YOU DO IT.


And don't forget, there's still the ooc discussion post! And nothing needs to be contained to this post! Create new logs to your heart's content! This AU is yours, so have at it!


musebox • rules • character list

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[out_of_time]

'Richard' showed up promptly like the easygoing professional he was, suspecting nothing. 'Gwen's' cover was solid, and he showed up with his tools in hand expecting just another bit of work that would help pay for his hiding for a bit longer.

He didn't look much like a cop anymore. He'd kept himself in great shape of course, but he was still closing in on sixty after a hard life and looked it. In his work jeans and short-sleeved shirt, he looked more like a blue-collar worker nearing retirement than a commando. Of course, that was the point.

"Hi, Gwen." He had an easy smile that was as fake as most everything else. "Richard Walsh, I'm here about the pipe."

[motherofnemesis]

"Yes, please come in," she said, and closed the door behind him, smoothing a hand down the wrinkles of her pants. She was dressed to play the part of suburbanite housewife and it was bothering her, the impracticality of the pants, the lack of armor in the shirt. The sooner this was over and she was back in work clothes, the better she would feel.

She showed him to the garage (not soundproof but the closest thing the house had to it) and the broken pipe, and then stepped back until there was a fair space between them. She wasn't blocking the route to the door, but she could reach it in equal time to him, most likely.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to kill me for knowing, Mr. Bauer," she said a little wryly, holding her hands up so when he turned it would be clear she didn't intend to threaten. "I'm Max Gibson." Perhaps the name would jar his memory from his Import days, though she'd never held a particularly large presence. If not, explaining herself should be relatively easy so long as he didn't react violently immediately.

[out_of_time]

Jack froze dead still the moment he heard his real name. It passed immediately, though. Her hands were up, there was no SWAT team descending on them, and from what Jack remembered of Max she was a damn unlikely candidate to be a government mole.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "I'm unarmed." He set the heavy toolbox down to emphasize. The days of him going around with a gun always by his side had been over for a while.

[motherofnemesis]

"Good to know," she said. There was an I am she could have added but chose not to. The holster was concealed under her jacket, slightly bulky on purpose, and if he didn't spot it (still highly likely if he hadn't already) she felt no need to tell him.

There wasn't any speech prepared, just a few points she knew she needed to touch on. "But unlike you. You're a man with talents, Mr. Bauer. Talents the resistance would very much appreciate having on their side." A momentary pause and she folded her arms, watching him steadily. "You were once willing to do a great deal for the Import community."

[out_of_time]

So that's what this was about. He should have known. "You're here to recruit me? I'm surprised they'd send you."

Jack frowned, more focused on what her presence here represented than on actually engaging with what she was saying. Obviously his 'talents' were getting rustier and rustier as he got older and spent more time with a screwdriver than a gun. There had been a time when Jack Bauer disappearing meant that Jack Bauer was completely gone. That clearly wasn't the case anymore.

"How did you find me?"

[motherofnemesis]

"Why wouldn't they send me?" she said, a slight lift of her shoulders like a muted shrug. "Courier work is my specialty. I carry messages."

Concern for his cover was natural, and it was likely she wouldn't be able to get much further if she didn't deal with that first.

"Resistance fighters do a lot of travelling. Some of us have long memories, especially for faces. One of them saw you and got a name. It was passed back to us." She lifted one hand in a 'that simple' gesture before tucking it back in.

[out_of_time]

"That simple, huh." He sighed and shook his head. "Knew I should have gone for the plastic surgery." But that had been a step too far for him. Besides, he couldn't pay for that level of work in his current career.

Jack turned away for a moment to look at the broken pipe, think about the setup. "So that's what you're here for. They want my help." He turned back. "There was a time when people thought I went too far, doing what I did."

[motherofnemesis]

"Plastic surgery hurts, I hear," she said casually, and leaned back against the wall. With that out of the way, they could get to the real business here.

He was an asset she wanted. "Was." It was firm, almost curt. She'd thought that he went too far, back then. "This is a different fight, though. Don't blow up civilian buildings and no one's likely to judge you."

[out_of_time]

"Yeah, I noticed." Jack frowned a little. "I heard about Bellatrix Lestrange. It sounds like she's been a real asset." The witch's career as a resistance leader had more or less been the opposite of low-key. Jack remembered when she was on the wanted list, with torture among the first and least of her charges.

"It's funny. It's like we've come a hundred and eighty degrees." He spread his hands. "I don't know what you think about me, but there are some lines I've never crossed. Lines I can't cross. Joining you, I think I'd have to cross them. And I'm not willing to go that far." There was still a tiny little sliver of things Jack hadn't resorted to, things named 'never killed a cop' or 'never assassinated elected officials.' That sliver was a hard thing to let go of, no matter how bad it got.

[motherofnemesis]

"Bellatrix Lestrange does a job," Max said, flat, the sort of tone that indicated a subject best left entirely alone. Out of reach.

For a long moment she was silent, and then she spoke. Weighing every word, a certain weight and gravitas to it. "I think you're a man who's willing to do what it takes. To stand up for people whose rights must be protected. To be that thin blue line, even if you have to operate outside the law to do it." She let that linger a moment before adding to it. "As for lines - we all have them. We ask only that people do what they consider themselves capable of."

[out_of_time]

"Well that's the problem, Max," Jack said. "I'm capable of a lot of things. My whole life, I've done what it takes, and then had to deal with the consequences." He broke eye contact for a moment, stared into his past, then resumed meeting Max's eyes.

"Whenever I'm faced with a situation, with an outcome that is unacceptable, my limits tend to go out the window in a hurry. It doesn't matter what I promise to myself or other people, I always end up in the same place, doing the same things." His voice was matter-of-fact, but his face and eyes were full of conflict, doubt, regret.

"If you bring me in on this, I guarantee you a lot of people will end up dying. Ours as well as theirs. Because that's what happens when I get brought into a situation. Lines get crossed, and there's always a cost."

[motherofnemesis]

"I don't think you understand something very important here," she said, and took a step forward, uncrossing her arms. Her tone remained neutral, no heat to it, but there was a tenseness under it. "We are all dying. And I don't mean that in the 'oh everybody dies' sense. I mean that us specifically, as a community - we are dying. "

A moment of silence, and she shook her head. "If you think there's a line we haven't crossed - Jack, we know how consequences work. Whatever you may think of yourself, I can guarantee you we know how to live with it."

[out_of_time]

Jack looked at her for a moment. Then he looked for a spot to sit down. He slowly crouched down onto an overturned washbucket, then looked back at Max.

"Is it really that bad out there?" He grimaced at his own ignorance. "I've been out of the loop for a long time." Most of his information came from the news, and everyone knew that couldn't be trusted. When he had quit, he had quit- cut every thread, pinched off all contacts and sources. Jack was regretting that now.