Quentin & Inez, Monday afternoon
Mar. 27th, 2023 02:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsQuentin steps out to satisfy the munchies and ends up giving an impromptu interview to Inez.
Quentin realized too late that he should not have taken that edible earlier. Not because it was only the middle of the workday (he had done worse before), but even just 10 mg gave him the munchies that drove him to distraction. So here he was at his favorite bakery in District X, loading up on pastries and ooh how many forms of chocolate are in that cake? He'll take a whole one, please. No, not just one slice. The whole thing. He'd take it back to the XFI office and if anyone gave him shit for up and leaving at 2:17 PM, he'd shut them up with cake.
He hummed happily to himself after paying and turned to leave, but was blocked by a tree growing in the middle of the store. No, not a tree, he realized. Just a woman in a hat. A beautiful woman at that, were he one to appreciate such things beyond just aesthetics.
"Hey, I know you," he said. "You're the one Alex found, aren't you?"
Inez had set out to explore District X a little today, to get to know her new surroundings a little better. She'd gotten off to a later start than she'd intended, however, and needed a coffee to keep her fueled for the rest of the afternoon, so she'd ducked into this cute bakery to seek the same. Not only had she found that - and some truly delicious looking confectionaries - she'd found one of her fellow residents as well.
"Heya," she replied, raising a hand to tip her hat in Q's direction. "That'd be me alright. Good t'see you again... your turn to get the coffee today?" She grinned as she recalled how her run-in with Alex had delayed the caffeination of XFI, and hoped she wasn't about to do that again.
"Coffee? Hmm, no, I don't think I need that. Just sugar." He stepped aside to let her get to the counter, and he was going to leave, but he stopped himself. "What is your deal, exactly?" he asked. "Like, you came to us with life-saving intel and that's it? Now you're just . . . here?"
"I am, though I wanna be more than just, uh," she said, sighing a little at the accuracy of Q's statement, a vocalization of how useless she'd been feeling of late. "Just here. If I can be of help to anyone, that is." She'd spoken with Darcy about it but that'd been the extent of it, to date anyway. Maybe this was the opportunity she needed.
After a quick request for a large black, two cream, she turned back to Quentin. "Y'think there's anything I can do to help y'all out, perhaps?" Blunt and to the point, which was how she operated, but she wasn't quite sure how else to put it, especially out in the open as they were then and there. Still, she was gonna shoot her shot, because why not?
The management classes Lorna had ordered Quentin to complete as a condition for buying into XFI had spent plenty of time on the art of interviewing a job candidate, but there was nothing about doing it while stoned and having your hands full of baked goods. "Well," he started, trying to put his jumbled thoughts in order, "I don't know. What can you do?"
She glanced around the room then gave a slight nod of her head to one side, gesturing for Quentin to follow her over to an empty table for two in the corner. Discretion wasn't her strong suit, if Inez was being honest, but she figured she should at least give it a shot.
Hopping up onto one of the sturdy wooden chairs, she placed her coffee on the table and leaned forward. "Well, I'm awfully good at what I do. Which would involve..." She counted on her fingers, pulling them down one by one, "...surveillance, trackin' folk, negotiation' with 'em..." Inez paused and squeezed her finger on that one, squinting a little. "Ok, that one's not a big strength o'mine, but when that fails I'm real good at subduin' 'em and bringing them in."
"So how'd you get so good at doing these things you do?" His tummy rumbled and he dug into one of the packages to get a chocolate chip and pecan cookie that must have weighed half a pound. Then, after a moment's consideration, he turned the box to her to let her pick a treat of her own. He could be generous. He had all that cake for later, anyway.
Inez raised her eyebrows as she peered over the box, wiggling her fingers as her hand hovered over it before picking one and gingerly plucking it up and into her mouth for a bite. "Mmph," she said appreciatively, "experience is probably the main factor, an' then there's the whole genetics thing, right?" She winked at him and took another bite, closing her eyes and licking some of the chocolate off of her lips. "These are so dang good, by the by. An' I reckon all that experience and good genes'd make me a great fit with y'all."
The edible must have hit hard, because Quentin was momentarily distracted by her tongue caressing chocolate from her lips. He shook his head to return himself to reality. "No, I mean . . . experience. Explain specifically. You're a mutant, so I already know you're better than flatscans, but, like, what experience?"
"Oh, yeah, that'd be more helpful, huh?" She chuckled before licking two messy fingertips clean, then grabbing a napkin from the dispenser on the table to dry them off. "I've had t'learn how to research a mark, find out what makes 'em tick, where they'll hang out, if and what they're packin'... mission prep, that sorta thing. That comes in real handy, and I've gotten pretty good at it, even if it's boring as hell sometimes." She balled up the napkin and tossed it into a nearby garbage can without getting up before continuing.
"Likewise, actually implementin' your plans in the field - and improvisin' when things go snakey - all that's taught me a lot. Y'gotta earn that kinda knowledge by doin', so I've got lots of that as well." She folded her arms together and rested them across the table, leaning down and looking at the baked goods again before grinning up at Quentin.
"Uh huh." Without prying, Quentin sensed Inez spoke the truth, insofar as she believed her overview of her skills to be true. "What surprises am I gonna find if I do a background check? I'll be honest, I have no shits to give if you're a felon, because good for you, unless it gets the feds on our case. But if you're another Magneto deserter, I want to know now."
"No surprises, other than a dead family and the government's fingerprints all over me, literally and figuratively speakin', until I managed to wriggle free," she admitted. "No felons, and I've heard that name before but I'm no deserter of his. Just from Uncle Sam," Inez added with a chuckle.
Quentin responded in kind, an unusual sound from him but triggered by the combination of THC and sugar coursing through his body. "Tell me more about that. Not the literal fingerprints, that sounds like a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen. But anything you do to tell the feds to go fuck themselves is a point in your favor."
"Long story short, after my parents..." Inez trailed off for a second then waved her hands dismissively, as if it was no big deal when it was in fact The Biggest Deal, "I became the government's problem. I was fifteen."
She studied her hands for a few beats, clenching and unclenching them into fists. "They told me I'd be able to get the folks that did it, but all along they were trainin' me to be one of them, and I believed 'em. Until I didn't. When I turned eighteen I grew up in more ways than one and shook 'em loose, started lookin' out for myself, began my own line of work. And, well." Inez grinned and rapped her knuckles on the table. "Here I am. That's the abbreviated version, hon," she finished with a wink.
Another young, lonely, vulnerable mutant groomed by the American government to serve their interests. At least it seemed Inez escaped all that without the damage so many other mutants had suffered. Or she was really good at hiding it. The short silence reminded Quentin of Arthur's mask slipping recently during their financial investigation. For someone who could read people's most intimate personal stories, he was awfully daft at noticing how deeply these truths could be hidden and what people would build to hide them.
He considered her for a moment, then stood up and started packing away his treats. He was halfway to the door when he turned around and raised an eyebrow at her. "Well? Get off your ass and come on. We'll talk about this more in private over cake."
Inez laughed and hopped off of her seat, nodding at Quentin. "You had me at cake. Which... was the last word y'said, but still. It's a mighty good one," she finished with a grin as she followed him towards the door.
Quentin realized too late that he should not have taken that edible earlier. Not because it was only the middle of the workday (he had done worse before), but even just 10 mg gave him the munchies that drove him to distraction. So here he was at his favorite bakery in District X, loading up on pastries and ooh how many forms of chocolate are in that cake? He'll take a whole one, please. No, not just one slice. The whole thing. He'd take it back to the XFI office and if anyone gave him shit for up and leaving at 2:17 PM, he'd shut them up with cake.
He hummed happily to himself after paying and turned to leave, but was blocked by a tree growing in the middle of the store. No, not a tree, he realized. Just a woman in a hat. A beautiful woman at that, were he one to appreciate such things beyond just aesthetics.
"Hey, I know you," he said. "You're the one Alex found, aren't you?"
Inez had set out to explore District X a little today, to get to know her new surroundings a little better. She'd gotten off to a later start than she'd intended, however, and needed a coffee to keep her fueled for the rest of the afternoon, so she'd ducked into this cute bakery to seek the same. Not only had she found that - and some truly delicious looking confectionaries - she'd found one of her fellow residents as well.
"Heya," she replied, raising a hand to tip her hat in Q's direction. "That'd be me alright. Good t'see you again... your turn to get the coffee today?" She grinned as she recalled how her run-in with Alex had delayed the caffeination of XFI, and hoped she wasn't about to do that again.
"Coffee? Hmm, no, I don't think I need that. Just sugar." He stepped aside to let her get to the counter, and he was going to leave, but he stopped himself. "What is your deal, exactly?" he asked. "Like, you came to us with life-saving intel and that's it? Now you're just . . . here?"
"I am, though I wanna be more than just, uh," she said, sighing a little at the accuracy of Q's statement, a vocalization of how useless she'd been feeling of late. "Just here. If I can be of help to anyone, that is." She'd spoken with Darcy about it but that'd been the extent of it, to date anyway. Maybe this was the opportunity she needed.
After a quick request for a large black, two cream, she turned back to Quentin. "Y'think there's anything I can do to help y'all out, perhaps?" Blunt and to the point, which was how she operated, but she wasn't quite sure how else to put it, especially out in the open as they were then and there. Still, she was gonna shoot her shot, because why not?
The management classes Lorna had ordered Quentin to complete as a condition for buying into XFI had spent plenty of time on the art of interviewing a job candidate, but there was nothing about doing it while stoned and having your hands full of baked goods. "Well," he started, trying to put his jumbled thoughts in order, "I don't know. What can you do?"
She glanced around the room then gave a slight nod of her head to one side, gesturing for Quentin to follow her over to an empty table for two in the corner. Discretion wasn't her strong suit, if Inez was being honest, but she figured she should at least give it a shot.
Hopping up onto one of the sturdy wooden chairs, she placed her coffee on the table and leaned forward. "Well, I'm awfully good at what I do. Which would involve..." She counted on her fingers, pulling them down one by one, "...surveillance, trackin' folk, negotiation' with 'em..." Inez paused and squeezed her finger on that one, squinting a little. "Ok, that one's not a big strength o'mine, but when that fails I'm real good at subduin' 'em and bringing them in."
"So how'd you get so good at doing these things you do?" His tummy rumbled and he dug into one of the packages to get a chocolate chip and pecan cookie that must have weighed half a pound. Then, after a moment's consideration, he turned the box to her to let her pick a treat of her own. He could be generous. He had all that cake for later, anyway.
Inez raised her eyebrows as she peered over the box, wiggling her fingers as her hand hovered over it before picking one and gingerly plucking it up and into her mouth for a bite. "Mmph," she said appreciatively, "experience is probably the main factor, an' then there's the whole genetics thing, right?" She winked at him and took another bite, closing her eyes and licking some of the chocolate off of her lips. "These are so dang good, by the by. An' I reckon all that experience and good genes'd make me a great fit with y'all."
The edible must have hit hard, because Quentin was momentarily distracted by her tongue caressing chocolate from her lips. He shook his head to return himself to reality. "No, I mean . . . experience. Explain specifically. You're a mutant, so I already know you're better than flatscans, but, like, what experience?"
"Oh, yeah, that'd be more helpful, huh?" She chuckled before licking two messy fingertips clean, then grabbing a napkin from the dispenser on the table to dry them off. "I've had t'learn how to research a mark, find out what makes 'em tick, where they'll hang out, if and what they're packin'... mission prep, that sorta thing. That comes in real handy, and I've gotten pretty good at it, even if it's boring as hell sometimes." She balled up the napkin and tossed it into a nearby garbage can without getting up before continuing.
"Likewise, actually implementin' your plans in the field - and improvisin' when things go snakey - all that's taught me a lot. Y'gotta earn that kinda knowledge by doin', so I've got lots of that as well." She folded her arms together and rested them across the table, leaning down and looking at the baked goods again before grinning up at Quentin.
"Uh huh." Without prying, Quentin sensed Inez spoke the truth, insofar as she believed her overview of her skills to be true. "What surprises am I gonna find if I do a background check? I'll be honest, I have no shits to give if you're a felon, because good for you, unless it gets the feds on our case. But if you're another Magneto deserter, I want to know now."
"No surprises, other than a dead family and the government's fingerprints all over me, literally and figuratively speakin', until I managed to wriggle free," she admitted. "No felons, and I've heard that name before but I'm no deserter of his. Just from Uncle Sam," Inez added with a chuckle.
Quentin responded in kind, an unusual sound from him but triggered by the combination of THC and sugar coursing through his body. "Tell me more about that. Not the literal fingerprints, that sounds like a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen. But anything you do to tell the feds to go fuck themselves is a point in your favor."
"Long story short, after my parents..." Inez trailed off for a second then waved her hands dismissively, as if it was no big deal when it was in fact The Biggest Deal, "I became the government's problem. I was fifteen."
She studied her hands for a few beats, clenching and unclenching them into fists. "They told me I'd be able to get the folks that did it, but all along they were trainin' me to be one of them, and I believed 'em. Until I didn't. When I turned eighteen I grew up in more ways than one and shook 'em loose, started lookin' out for myself, began my own line of work. And, well." Inez grinned and rapped her knuckles on the table. "Here I am. That's the abbreviated version, hon," she finished with a wink.
Another young, lonely, vulnerable mutant groomed by the American government to serve their interests. At least it seemed Inez escaped all that without the damage so many other mutants had suffered. Or she was really good at hiding it. The short silence reminded Quentin of Arthur's mask slipping recently during their financial investigation. For someone who could read people's most intimate personal stories, he was awfully daft at noticing how deeply these truths could be hidden and what people would build to hide them.
He considered her for a moment, then stood up and started packing away his treats. He was halfway to the door when he turned around and raised an eyebrow at her. "Well? Get off your ass and come on. We'll talk about this more in private over cake."
Inez laughed and hopped off of her seat, nodding at Quentin. "You had me at cake. Which... was the last word y'said, but still. It's a mighty good one," she finished with a grin as she followed him towards the door.
