divisionary | Matinee

Matinee

For once, the streets are quiet.

Between the rescue mission at the trainyard, the storming of the WarrenGate power plant, and the skirmish at the New Law tenements, there's been a lot less movement in the city the past few weeks. The Rikers have retreated to lick their wounds. The Cleaners have gone quiet (or as quiet as a gang of men on garbage trucks can be). Even the LMB have stopped rattling their sabers from Kips Bay. It isn't a real peace. There's still a lot left to do. But for now, the JTF is breathing a little easier.

Not Lindianne, though. Ever since she came limping back to base with Voodoo and the others, she's been on strict orders to take it easy. She's had her nose set and it's healing well. There's been no need for her to head outside the wire. There's no imminent threat to the base or to personnel. So she's been spending her time trying to help in smaller ways.

And slowly going stir-crazy.

Right now, she's deep in conversation with one of the civilians. "Look, uh, Finnegan," she says with a shrug. "I know you guys like that movie. But maybe, just maybe, we can watch something other than that one about Luna Park?" He looks a little annoyed at the suggestion. Lindianne sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Yeah, I know. It's either that or everyone starts arguing again. I get it. Just... think it over, okay?"

He doesn't answer; all he does it raise his eyebrows, then turn and head back towards a knot of civilians. Lindianne, meanwhile, sighs. She sequesters herself out near the supply room with a dog-eared paperback novel somebody scavenged from a nearby drugstore. It's a terrible read, but it's better than having to deal with the same damn movie for the 800th time.

What she'd give for something else right now.

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"She's got a point, Voodoo," Rabbit says. "No need to get so antsy about it."

Rabbit sees your pun, Lindianne, and matches it with an even lamer one!

Voodoo's groan sounds like one borne of years of suffering. "Fuck both of you."

Whatever banter was to proceed is quickly silenced by...a rather trippy brainwashing sequence.

"Talk about an interesting approach to operative training, huh?" Rabbit says.

Voodoo shakes his head. "80s hits might work on you, Rabbit, but you'd have to put on some metal to even get me thinking about getting in that chair."

There's a long pause. Just long enough to be awkward.

Then Lindianne cracks a smirk. "Hey, that's how they trained us." She's yanking their chains. "A little shock aversion therapy, some tunes, and we came out with all the stuff we'd need to save the day." Not really. Division agents come by their expertise the hard way.

It's a long process. Scouting, then the offer, then training, then meeting the others in any given cell, then reinsertion into civilian life... It's a dizzying part of her old life. Even now, it feels unreal to look back on.

The smirk vanishes. She turns her head robotically to look at the SEALs. "...Enemies need to be eliminated," she says blankly

(She's doing it just to see the looks on their faces.)

Of the three, Rabbit's reaction is the most priceless - his eyes boggle as he looks from Preacher to Voodoo and points to Parker, as though to say are you seeing this?

Voodoo, unfortunately for Parker, doesn't buy it for a second. Instead, he snorts and gently punches her shoulder. "Aw, c'mon, Parker, step your game up," he says. "Not even invoking any codenames? Weak. That's subconscious programming 101."

Meanwhile, on screen...

She holds the blank expression for a few more moments.

Then she snorts. The frown instantly cracks into a smile. She points at Rabbit, wags her finger, and then just starts cackling madly. "Oh my God, you should have seen the look on your face!"

One of the civilians watching the movie turns around to look at them, then turns back. Lindianne ignores it. She's too busy laughing at Rabbit. "You ruined it, Voodoo, he actually bought it!"

It's always good when a joke come together just right.

As the movie cuts to a walk-off between Hansel and Zoolander, Rabbit protests. "Hey, I didn't buy it, that look on your face was just freaking me out!"

"Bullshit," Voodoo says as the movie then cuts to a car interior, then a cemetery, then to Derek and Hansel talking it out. "You bought it like hundred-peso ass in Manila. Now shut up, the movie's still on."

"Why you been acting so messed up towards me?" Hansel asks.

"Why you been acting so messed up towards me?" Zoolander retorts.

"Well, you go first."

"I don't know. Maybe I felt a little threatened or something...'cause your career is kind of just blossoming...and mine's kind of winding down or whatever. And I felt like, 'this guy's really hurting me'...and it hurt. And I felt like when you told me to 'dere-lick' my balls...that really hurt."

"Maybe I was scared, man. You're Derek Zoolander!"

"You ever think the NYPD guys went through something like this?"

A beat.

"Not the fashion thing. The whole being-intimidated thing." It can't be easy to survive the collapse of New York City, only to wind up playing second-fiddle to a handful of Navy soldiers and a woman who doesn't answer to the chain of command. She leans forward in her seat, focusing in on the movie.

"You know, for being a comedy, this has some good points." A beat. "That's... probably insane coming out of my mouth, but you get the picture."

You find moments of brilliance where you can, even if they're in the middle of a really weird comedy flick.

Voodoo shrugs. "Could be. I ain't talked to 'em much since we got here. Can't tell whether we spook 'em or they're just too busy."

"Maybe it's both," Rabbit says. "We got reputations. You should hear some of the things they say when they think I'm out of earshot."

"What'm I, in a sewing circle? Fuck the gossip."

At Parker's next statement, the SEALs exchange looks.

"Maybe SHD recruited a few Agents off the cover of Vogue," Rabbit says, gesturing to the flatscreen. "You hear the points they're making."

"I wouldn't if I were recruiting," Voodoo says as the movie cuts to a scene over tea. "Famous guys would cause problems."

Lindianne turns her head to give Rabbit a look. She raises her eyebrows at him. "Are you saying I'm not pretty, Rabbit?" It's an entirely innocent question, but there's a definite hint of danger behind it.

Unlike earlier, she can't hold back the laughter. "Nah, I'm just messing with you," she says with a grin. "They recruit us for what we're good at. Information, technological know-how, marksmanship, things like that." It's a long list of criteria to go through.

"Nah. Famous people have too many eyes on 'em." She pulls two energy bars from the pocket of her sweater and tosses one to Voodoo. She's unwrapped the other in a moment. (What? She's hungry and it's still a ways until the last meal of the day.) "They want people like- well, like you and me," she mumbles through a mouthful of food.

"These airheads-" Here she gestures at the screen. "-They wouldn't last a minute in basic, let alone out here."

Rabbit holds his hands up, shaking his head. "Married. No comment."

Voodoo catches the bar Lindianne tosses his way and unwraps it, saying a quick thanks before digging in. "People got a way of surprising you, but yeah, these dudes wouldn't-"

Whatever he's about to say next is interrupted by an impromptu orgy. He almost chokes on his next bite before swallowing it down, tucking the bar into a pocket, sticking his index and middle fingers in his mouth, and wolf-whistling as loud as he can.

"Yeah!" he shouts, grinning as he claps. "Geddit!"

And Lindianne just buries her head in her arms and groans. It isn't very visible, but she's turning the exact same of red as a sunburned tomato. "Oh my God, really? Really?" She reaches over to shove Voodoo's shoulder, keeping her eyes averted from the, er, "action" on-screen.

"That's real classy, Voodoo, why don't you let the whole world know?" She breaks down into helpless laughter at the entire situation.

Nobody's ever accused him of having class. Or diplomacy. Sorry, but it's true.

Voodoo laughs it off, gesturing to the screen as it cuts to the next scene. "What, I can't be happy for her? Talk about breaking a dry spell-"

Preacher smirks and shakes his head as Rabbit hides his head in his hands and laughs along with Lindianne. "Christ, Voodoo, you've got no filter, do you?"

"I call 'em like I see 'em." He chuckles, shoulders shaking as he settles down, nudging Lindianne with an elbow. "It's okay, Parker. Fun part's over, you can look up now."

She peers out from over her folded arms just to be sure. "...Christ. Well, that PG-13 wasn't just for giggles." Thank God there aren't any kids in here, or this would prompt a few very awkward conversations.

She turns back to watching the movie. Already, the blush is fading from her face. She cracks a smirk. "Next time we get into trouble, I am so saying it was all in our minds afterwards," she says with a wry little grin. "I wonder if Faye or Mother'd get it."

Probably not. Mother doesn't seem to have much of a sense of humor.

"Faye? Maybe," Rabbit says as the scene shifts yet again.

"But Mother? Nah," Voodoo says, shaking his head. "I don't think he's been to the movies since Three Kings came out."

Rabbit nods. "That's a lifer for you. But he's a hell of a shooter."

"When he dies, the Navy won't bury him," Voodoo says as the movie cuts to a scene inside Ballstein's office. "They'll just take a pair of jumper cables, jumpstart his heart, and give him a CAR-15 and a Zodiac. He'll take it from there."

Edited 2016-05-24 03:46 (UTC)

She chuckles.

"Nah. A guy like Mother? He'd probably tell death to fuck off and that he has stuff to do." She polishes off the last of her snack bar, shoving the wrapper into the same pocket it came from. Easier to get rid of once she finds a garbage can later.

People like Mother, like Lindianne, like the SEALs, they don't die easily. There's too much to do, too much on the line for them to lie down and give up. She's never been one to accept defeat. And from her interactions with them, she suspects that AFO Neptune is the same exact way.

Maybe that's why they work together so well.

"That is not how you do tech support," she jeers at the movie. "Hit the button on the-" Cue the actors beating on the poor Mac. Lindianne facepalms, sighing in aggravation. "It has a button on the front. It's literally right there."

She has a soft spot for electronics.

The next scene probably won't do much to win her over, but at least they're not beating on it anymore.

Voodoo grunts, looking over to Rabbit. "If you showed this to a twidget, would they laugh, bitch, or both?"

"Dunno," Rabbit replies. "Laugh at the iMac, bitch at the way they're treating it? Don't ever get stuck watching Swordfish with electronic warfare guys."

And now the movie moves onto the fashion show proper, complete with breakdance fighting. Yes, breakdance fighting. Voodoo groans, resting his head in one hand. "Oh, for the love of - just shoot 'im."

Sorry, no witty rejoinders will be coming from Lindianne's direction for a solid minute or two. She's just watching the movie and laughing her head off.

"Think that'd work if we busted it out on our next op?" Well, maybe with some of the rioters. But it'd be less 'oh wow she's too good' and more 'oh god run away she's nuts'. Not entirely a bad reputation to have. "I'm just saying, it'd be good for a laugh if nothing else."

"He could've just yanked the album," she adds as the fight continues. "Solves the issue in one fell swoop."

"We could do it," Voodoo says. "One of us goes cuckoo for coca puffs, the others kill the bad guys while they're busy bustin' a gut laughing?"

His train of thought is interrupted by what is quite possibly the worst misunderstanding of computer technology ever put on film.

"-oh Jesus." He shakes his head. "These guys - there's boot stupid, then there's this."

The film's antagonist seems to share his frustration!

"-did he just stop a fuckin' shuriken with a duckface?"

Physics don't work like that. At all. If they did, she'd be stopping bullets with her face right about now.

"Forget that guy. I think I took crazy pills this morning!"

And the instant the 'duckface' appears, Lindianne dissolves into another fit of laughter. She even slaps Voodoo on the shoulder a few times while she cackles. Her eyes are watering when she finally stops.

"Hoo. Oh man, yeah, I am so quoting this over the radio." Faye won't be amused. It's unprofessional to the highest possible standard. But damn it, don't they deserve a little levity?

And it'll be worth it to see what kind of face Mother makes.

Whatever else it may be, it'll be a memorable face, that much is for sure.

Rabbit lean in to whisper to Lindianne. "'Center for ants'. Bet I can get it on the air on our next op."

After one last scene, the credits start rolling!

"Fuuuuck," Voodoo says. "That was so dumb I don't even think I can be mad at it for it."

She leans back over towards Rabbit with a conspiratorial smile.

"I'll give you ten bucks if you do it," she whispers back, trying to hide her smile with her hand. "No, wait, ten bucks and first dibs on my slot in the meal line." That ought to sweeten the deal.

Lindianne grins at the boys before rolling her shoulders. "Yeah, that pretty dumb, but I kind of liked it," she admits. "Like, it's so bad it loops around to being good again."

Already, there's a smattering of applause from the civilians watching the movie. A few have stood up and are talking to one another. The mood in the room is light. There's no tension. No worry.

Lindianne's smile is wistful. "We all needed that."

And then she loops an arm around Voodoo and Rabbit's necks. "And it's all thanks to you two knuckleheads! So, y'know, thanks."

Voodoo rolls his eyes, but it's hard to deny the smile on his face. "As if. I voted for 127 Hours."

"Yeah, dude cuts his arm off with a Leatherman, that'll get morale up-"

"Who said anything about morale? It's a good fuckin' movie-"

"Oh, please, if I wanted to watch James Franco cry for 90 minutes I'd whack him with a newspaper-"

The argument is ended as quickly as it began by the approach of Mother from the direction of the Situation Room. What civilians haven't cleared out make way for him as he walks over to Lindianne and his boys, helmet tucked under his arm. AFO Neptune hasn't been in the city a month, and already the stress of almost non-stop ops is wearing on him - the bags under his eyes seem to grow larger every day.

"Bring it in," he says, beckoning them over. "School circle."

Leave it to Mother to kill arguments just by appearing.

Lindianne gives Voodoo and Rabbit one last fond little shake before she lets them go. She does also mock-punch Preacher on the bicep as she heads towards Mother. So much for movie night. So much for relaxation. It never really ends.

"Mother." She gives him a little smile. (She tries for 'carefree', but winds up somewhere in the vicinity of 'guarded'.) "Sir, forgive the comment, but... damn. You need some shut-eye toot suite." Or some coffee, at the very least.

She's not dressed for going outside of the Post Office. She's switched to an oversized sweatshirt and a wool sweater instead of her usual cold-weather gear. She looks more prepared for a long nap than any sort of combat situation.

"...Something happen?"

Mother snorts as the SEALs gather round. "If only someone would tell the Rikers. Between Torch, Keller, and WarrenGate, keeping up with their signals traffic is like trying to track a greased-up pinball in a washing machine."

In response to her question, Mother shakes his head. "No. Not yet. And it's got Faye and me worried."

He looks to the other SEALs before continuing. "It's the LMB," he says. "They're in a holding pattern, and we can't tell why. Radio intercepts don't point to anything out of the ordinary, but they're not trying to expand like they should be, and we can't get patrols close enough to find out why. We haven't even caught them in a firefight for the past few days, with either the Rikers or the Cleaners. Unless something's happened to Bliss - which we can't tell, one way or another - it feels wrong."

He idly rubs at the bridge of his nose. "Long story short, we've got a whole lot of radio chatter and no viable targets. We're wasted on presence patrols, but there's nothing else for us to do outside the wire. So take this time to clean and maintain your gear. Take this time to train. Take this time to rest up."

He looks to each of them in turn.

"Be ready for anything. The JTF's in a dangerous place right now - strong enough to play with the big boys, weak enough to get wiped off Manhattan if someone plays their cards right. Keep your go-bags by your racks."

Then, a simple nod.

"Dismissed."

It's something to think about, at the very least. Lindianne doesn't return to her seat right away. She remains standing, watching as the last of the civilians trickle out of the room. She's felt it, too. The city is too quiet lately. It feels like everyone is holding their breath.

The Last Man Battalion doesn't do quiet. They don't do subtle. If they wanted the last of the JTF out of the borough, they would have pressed their advantage already. Something is definitely wrong. But what are they waiting for? What could possibly holding them back from making a move?

It can't be fear about the SEALs. If that were true, they wouldn't have made their play to kill Mother on his first full day in the city. They're not afraid of the United States military. And they're definitely not afraid of her.

Well. Whatever it is, they'll find out eventually.

She turns back towards Voodoo, Rabbit, and Preacher. She gives them a quick, easy little smile. "Like we're never not ready to go," she cracks. "But... well, he's right." She glances over her should back in the direction Mother left. "Maybe I'll help out with patrols. Just get a feel for what's going on out there."

But for now... for now, it's time to relax.

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