4064/Ship happens.

Ship happens.
Date of Scene:	07 November 2020
Location:	Level 4 - Dorms - The Roost
Synopsis:	Conner had plans for a relaxing Saturday with Hope at Outsiders HQ which gets ruined when Laura stops in with something to investigate. Phoebe stops by just in time for the gang to head for some sparring.
Cast of Characters:	Laura Kinney, Conner Kent, Hope Summers, Phoebe Beacon

---

Laura Kinney has posed:
While many of the Outsiders keep a room at The Roost Laura Kinney isn't one of them. She keeps a modest apartment, paid for in cash, elsewhere in the city for operational reasons. But that doesn't stop her dropping round when she needs something. Slinking in with near silent footsteps and the slight rustle of photographs inside an envelope.

There's no announcing herself or attempts to socialize. If her team-mates are around they're around. Nor does she bother to switch any lights on, her senses keen enough to navigate in pitch blackness if need be.

There's a lingering scent of gunpowder residue and blood that's still in the process of cooling that clings to her like perfume.

Conner Kent has posed:
It is rare to see Conner in the Roost unless it is a weekend. He lives in New York, near the Empire State University college. But the weekends he comes to Gotham to see his (super) friends. Watch a movie in Tim's theatre or just hang out. Oh, and fight bad guys.

And lately there might be another good reason to come here. A redheaded one.

Today he has been doing homework in his room much of the day, but he left the door open to listen. Laura is quiet, but Conner senses are almost a match for hers. So he peers out at hearing steps, and then goes looking.

Hope Summers has posed:
Hope doesn't keep regular hours. That would require her to have regular plans or (god forbid) answer to someone other than herself. But she can often be found at the Roost. It feels a little more comfortable than the mansion, without the pressure of living up to people's expectations. She was up late working on things in the workshop, so she's only just rolling out of her spartan bunk.

In sweatpants and a tank top, she shuffles right past Conner as she moves down the hall, headed in search of breakfast.

Gunpowder and blood aren't unfamiliar scents to her, but they don't usually show up here. She squints, wrinkling her nose, but when she tries to focus on it she finds herself copying Laura's powers, which very clearly pinpoints the source. "Oh, hey," she greets, headed for the pantry and pop tarts. "Mission?"

Laura Kinney has posed:
The slow pacing stops. "No," Laura answers, glancing behind her at Hope and Conner. Her brow furrows slightly and she adds "Evidentally I need to increase the complexity of my training." The envelope seems to be the source of the blood. A sticky handprint marking the side.

"Am I correct in assuming we have a secure computer here I can use to look into shipping details?" Nothing else about her appearance seems to indicate she's been upto anything. A black hoodie and some non-descript leggings usually favored by joggers or gym-goers, no signs of hidden weapons or combat damage.

Whatever she's been upto it's likely been low-key. Stealth or surveillance.

Conner Kent has posed:
"Hey, Hope," greets Conner, seeing the redhead is finally awake. He might have been waiting, yes. Nevertheless, he avoids standing on the way of Hope and food. "Nice to see you Laura? You okay?"

A mostly rhetorical question, but he studies the brunette for a few seconds anyway. "The computer system is up to bat-standards of security and efficiency. So my guess is it will be good for anything," he confirms.

Hope Summers has posed:
"Yeah, it's secure," Hope seconds Conner. "Bonus, when you run a search on it, no one comes behind you and asks why you're looking into whatever it is and then tells you how to run the mission," she adds with a faint smirk before stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. She snags a foil-wrapped packet of pop tarts from the pantry, then a soda from the fridge. "Unless Tim catches it, but he's usually just trying to help."

In direct contradiction of what she just said, she tries to get a look at the letter. "Looks like someone's sending you a capital m message."

Laura Kinney has posed:
"I am well," Laura states. There's a long pause before she remembers to add "I hope you are both well?" Another shorter pause as she sniffs the air. "And that I was not interupting anything." She nods at the confirmation the computers are secure. "As I said it's not mission related.. Have there been mission activities planned that people are awaiting my completion?"

"I do not receive mail. The blood belonged to the previous owner." An indifferent shrug. "He will not miss it."

Conner Kent has posed:
Conner shakes his head, getting a soda from the fridge and leaning against the counter. "I was just waiting for people to come. Most weekends there is a good crow. But so far it is just us." And Laura has been an infrequent visitor to the movie nights or other shenanigans. "Are you staying the whole day? We can plan accordingly," he offers.

Hope Summers has posed:
"The blood, or the letter?" Hope says with a faint smirk at Laura's comment about missing it, hopping up to sit on the counter as she opens up her pop tarts. "Joking," she adds quickly, before Laura can get caught up in the linguistics of it. "Anyhow, things've been pretty quiet here lately. I guess that's not a bad thing. I was just up late working on adjustments to the energy gun build, so just waking up."

Laura Kinney has posed:
With everyone moving to get drinks Laura moves to do the same, although she doesn't pay much attention to what the can contains. "I suspect the ship I am interested in is still at sea," she explains. "So I can remain if there is a group training activity planned. I will likely be looking through several months worth of records anyway."

She glances at Hope and frowns. "Oh. No I meant he will not miss anything because he is dead." A beat long pause. "I did not kill him. Directly at least."

She takes a sip of her soda and, rather than take a seat or lean against something, she slips into a stance reminiscent of a military at-ease position. "Does your energy weapon have a variable output setting? It might be advantageous to avoid leaving burn patterns that are distinct enough to be traceable."

Conner Kent has posed:
Conner frowns slightly when he hears the 'he is dead'. It mostly vanishes at the 'I did not kill him', but not completely. He is far less blase about killing than the two girls. In this Tim and he are in full agreement.

"We can do some training if that is what you want," he offers, sipping from his soda. He expects Hope would want it over just watching a movie, but he glances at the redhead for confirmation. "We had nothing planned. But all ideas are welcome."

Hope Summers has posed:
"Yep, I figured." Hope doesn't quite hide a smile as Laura clarifies. At least she's not judging her for killing people, directly or indirectly. "I do, yeah," she nods to the other girl's question. "Though it was aimed more at giving it a stun setting than masking the signature," she muses. "I could probably build something into the muzzle though, just to randomly vary the dispersal."

She takes a hefty bite of her pop tart, chewing thoughtfully. She doesn't get quite as lost in the tech as Tim does, but she does like to tinker. "Mmph?" she says around the mouthful of food when Conner suggests training. "I could train, sure," she shrugs. "Or help you search those records if you want."

Laura Kinney has posed:
"The records take priority for me, but once the task is complete I could participate in a training activity," Laura says after a few moments consideration. "A variable dispersal would be a sensible precaution. Criminals often have access to police reports through crooked cops and bribed officials."

When Hope volunteers to help the petite mutant frowns and then carefully opens the envelope. "I suspect a ship is being used to bring materials needed for mutant cloning experiments into the city. The name and registration details keep changing but they can't change the physical dimensions of the ship itself." Which means she's likely going to be hunting for a needle in a big stack of other very similar needles.

She spreads a selection of very similar looking photographs out on the pantry countertop. All seemingly taken from the same warehouse. "It was a low priority so I bribed someone to keep watch. Sadly they did not operate with the degree of care the operation required."

Conner Kent has posed:
"Cloning," now we are getting personal. And although Conner is not very good at searching for records, and certainly was counting with doing something more fun than tedious investigation. Cloning is cloning.

"I suppose we better check this out first," he grunts. "Gotham harbor records are going to suck. I read half the smuggling and human trafficking of the East Coast goes through the local harbor. But we can try."

Hope Summers has posed:
If Conner doesn't know Laura's background with cloning, Hope's not going to be the one to bring it up. But she does slide down the countertop to get a closer look at the pictures, still munching on her pop tart as she does. "Subcontractors, right?" she empathizes on the topic of bribing people to do the grunt work. "What about the people?" she suggests. "If you've got video and they're using the same people to load and unload, could run one of the gait analysis programs on the footage and see if you hit a match."

Laura Kinney has posed:
Laura Kinney doesn't elaborate on why she suspects cloning or what she thinks is being cloned. But she does shake her head when Hope talks about video. "I don't," she notes. "Have videos that is." From the look of the images she's neatly arranging her informant used an old school film camera. "When I went to collect the photographs I discovered the body. An attempt had been made to torture my contact but he had a pre-existing heart condition."

Aside from the ships all looking very same-y there is very little of use. Some registration info and ship names. Dates and times scribbled on the back in smudged ink. And a lingering smell of cheap cigarettes.

"We might not need to check Gotham records as I believe the group responsible will be trying to avoid known smuggling routes. The cargo itself is not strictly illegal. So why pay an unnecessary bribe?"

Conner Kent has posed:
Conner is aware of Laura's nature, and she did inform him of the wonders of Weapon X. Those guys that make N.O.W.H.E.R.E. look positively wholesome. So, the chance to disrupt their operations is appealing.

"Criminals are usually out to get extra cash, they are a greedy, dumbass lot," offers Conner. "But they won't if they are government, I guess. Any idea who are we dealing with here?"

Hope Summers has posed:
"Sure," Hope nods to Laura, mulling things over as she looks at the pictures. "Hrm. Wish we had thermal," she muses. "Cloning means biologicals, which means probably something has to be kept refrigerated. But hey, if we just have to go through one by one and match dimensions, many hands makes light work, right?"

Laura Kinney has posed:
Laura carefully lines the images out in date order. "I'm unsure if they are shipping the genetic samples this way," she admits. "But there is evidence they are moving precursor chemicals for a variation of the trigger scent." And there we have why it's important to her. "It seems to be a corporate interest. Probably trying to profit off research they obtained via the black market."

She takes another sip of soda and nods. "While I prefer to work alone in the field there are distinct advantages to having a group available for putting together target dossiers."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "What has to be kept refridgerated?" comes a qustion from beyond as Phoebe makes her way in. She's wearing a chunky sweater with an earthy orange color, and jeans, her braided hair pulled back in a ponytail. She purses her lips a moment, looking to Conner and Hope, then to Laura, and then she holds up a hand.

    "Am I interrupting something I'm not welcome to?" she asks, bringing her raised hand to rub at the back of her neck in sudden nervousness.

Conner Kent has posed:
Conner blinks slowly, since Laura mostly lost him with the talk on precursor chemicals and trigger scent. What does that have to do with clones? Well, lets see. "Corporations willing to do illegal operations tend to be pretty bold about it. Paying bribes of paying fines that are insignificants in comparison with the profits."

Which makes Gotham's harbor again a very attractive port, since most everyone accepts bribes in the dark city.

Hope Summers has posed:
At the mention of the trigger scent, Hope stiffens, a little more serious. "You think they're gunning for you, or are they trying to prime more people to be triggered?" She looks over as Phoebe approaches, offering a small smile before she realizes they're...basically sitting in the dark. Two people with enhanced senses and one borrowing the enhanced senses makes for forgetful heroes.

"No, you're good," she smiles swiftly. "Sorry, we forgot to turn on the lights. I was mostly interested in getting pop tarts," she admits, holding up the foil packet from which she's currently eating one of the pastries.

Laura Kinney has posed:
"I am unsure. But the volumes suggest numerous clones," Laura says with a shrug. "But that does not exclude the possibility that it's bait." There's no turning around as Phoebe comes in. Just a little sniff of the air. "Good day Phoebe." She motions for her to join them. A gesture she's so unpractised with she can't help but make it seem awkward. "I hope that today finds you well. Conner and Hope were just offering to help me to locate a ship. It's not strictly speaking an Outsiders mission though."

With the light on the bloody envelope becomes rather more noticeable. And perhaps a little offputting to anyone with more normal ideas regarding the sight of blood near where people eat.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... is it a ship coming into or out of Gotham? Did you check the port authority's manifest?" she questions, and rubs the back of her head again, but she joins the group, sitting down with them. "Hey, Hope, hand me a packet of the poptarts, please." she gives a slight smile. "Can't plot on an empty stomach."

Conner Kent has posed:
"I am going to make a couple phone calls," decides Conner. "Regardless this business. I think I know people that can help. But I... I better use a burner, not my cell. I will be in the labs downstairs," where they need to go to so online research anyway.

He manages to give Hope a one-armed hug on the way out. Because saving lives has priority. That was their agreement. There is always tomorrow.

Hope Summers has posed:
Hope returns Conner's hug before sliding back down the countertop to grab some poptarts for Phoebe too. Phoebe at least might recognize the hug as a new development for Hope. "I got you," she grins as she slides back down and tosses the packet the last bit. "We're not trusting the manifests," she clarifies for Phoebe. "They keep changing their paperwork, so we're looking at the ships themselves. Which means a whole lot of dark, grainy photographs," she says with a rueful gesture at the stack.

Laura Kinney has posed:
"I have only been within the building for a few minutes," Laura clarifies for Phoebe. "As I came here directly from collecting the images." And indeed the blood on the evelope is still wet and slightly sticky... It's perhaps best not to ask. "They aren't specifically operating out of Gotham. I think they are more likely to be based in New York and operating underly a cover of a legitimate research laboratory."

She flicks a few photos over to show they have dates, times and dock numbers written on the backs.

"I had been intending to compare the physical dimensions of the vessel to port records, manifests or anything of that nature. They may lie about the contents on a manifest but it seems unwise to claim the ship itself is dramatically bigger or smaller."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Manifests being lied about? Color me surprised." Phoebe replies quietly, and she opens the foil packet of delicious prepackaged pastries, and she gives a soft 'hmn' sound.

    "That is true -- what's the plan so far? How can I help?" Phoebe inquires, pursing her lips again and looking to the two combatants. She crosses one arm over her chest.

Hope Summers has posed:
"Well, I've been trying to come up with a creative solution to this problem, but it's almost like Laura knows what she's doing and came up with a plan based on the reality of the situation," Hope says with a wry smile, finishing off the first of the pastries in her packet. "We're pretty much looking at sifting through everything for the dimensions. Probably by hand. I mean, we //could// input the data into a computer program and let it do the sorting for us. Actually." She pauses, brows rising. "That's probably the best use of labor. That way we're not missing patterns if they're in each of our own parts."

Laura Kinney has posed:
Laura Kinney blinks a few times. "I had not considered automating the process," she admits. "You are sure this will locate every record we might need?" And that's likely why it wasn't considered, pure paranoia. "If so we could get some training in while we wait." Which is probably not how everyone wants to spend their weekend. Not the way she trains.

"Once we have a good idea when and where the ship will next be in dock I'll handle the situation. It's not team business after all." She shrugs. "And given the boat may well be operating entirely within US law it is likely to be an infiltration mission. To determine where it's going and who really owns it.."

Hope Summers has posed:
"It will if we program it. Actually, we don't even have to program it," Hope points out, reaching for the papers and splitting them into three stacks. "We can just put it in a spreadsheet. Each dimension in its own column, plus the time and date in its own column. Then once we've got all the data entered we sort by the dimensions and it'll group all the matching ones so we can see the times it was around." Someone may have been spending too much time around Tim lately. Spreadsheets.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Makes sense. That will narrow down the ships to search thoroughly the easiest." Phoebe agrees quietly, and then she looks to Lura, as if sizing her up, and then she leans her head back.

    "Well, if I can survive training with Tim, maybe I can survive training with you or Cassandra." she states, hopping to her feet.

    "I'm ready to have my butt kicked, either way."

Laura Kinney has posed:
"Perhaps the computer system can identify the type of vessel from the photographs?" Laura wonders, collecting the images up. "I have been trained to extrapolate building and vehicle schematics from surveillance photography but I am unsure how accurately I can identify the make and model of a sea going vessel." She shrugs. Worst case they can always do that manually. It's not like she has a social life to occupy her time.

Her attention turns to Phoebe and she gives her an appraising look.

"If you typically use any weapons I would recommend fetching them." Her tone is flat, although perhaps not intended to be cruel. "My understanding is Tim was trained to use non-lethal force..." The implication she was very much not. "So I shall try to go easy on you." She glances at Hope who is after all borrowing a healing power. "Hope I assume you will be sparring full contact?"