Project Jade Serenity [Supers/Technothriller]

[johndallman]

Originally Posted by Icelander

A slight, unshaven, bald man with unsightly skin and comically oversized glasses walks in.
Ford: “You may, I suppose. I prefer to err in favour of a strict interpretation of the Establishment Clause and avoid any reference to a Supreme Being in the course of my duties.”

Ah, this is the man who DHS employs to turn chaos into order, and insanity into input for policy-making. When you have someone who can do that, matters like poor appearance and an annoying manner are not significant.

[evileeyore]

Originally Posted by Icelander

Once he’s inside, he stumbles into the small apartment whose number he was given and is going to collapse into the bed, but something makes him refrain. Instead, he paces nervously around the room, checks the door, engages the lock and looks for something to block it from opening. He braces a chair in front of the door, which is unlikely to help, consider that they open outward, and then looks at the window. Feeling defeated and unable to come up with any plan to secure the window, O’Toole crawls into the clothes closet, pulls the closet door closed, wraps his blanket around him and tries to go to sleep.

The beginning stages of PTSD or paranoia?

Or both?

Or just a healthy fear of some of the dangerous things still on the island (rats, scaly people, Chase Taylor)...

[Icelander]

Originally Posted by johndallman

Ah, this is the man who DHS employs to turn chaos into order, and insanity into input for policy-making. When you have someone who can do that, matters like poor appearance and an annoying manner are not significant.

Curtis A. Ford comes from the Enforcement and Removal Operations arm of the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. He has extensive experience commanding and organising mass deportations and detentions, crises managment and coordinating complex multi-agency responses to situations with national security implications and crowd control challenges. For the past several years he has been in the DHS Office of Operations Coordination, where he served as the Incident Commander in numerous large-scale Homeland Security led emergency response exercises.

Ford is now the chief of staff of the Onyx Rain task force. Nobody much likes him (and he doesn't seem to much like anyone), but even with several red ball drop-everything-else operations going on simultaneously, it has to be acknowledged that things somehow still function.

Of course, he really needs someone like Cam Townsend or Damon Copeland, the Assistant Director of Onyx Rain, to handle the Diplomacy and Savoir-Faire aspects of inter-agency coordination. Certainly Director Vani Gujarat is expecting Ford to handle the situation and Townsend to troop along behind to soothe ruffled feathers.

But as it turns out, Townsend isn't really built to go from his first experience of lethal violence, being attacked, shot at, kidnapped and watching a murder at extremely close range, to seamlessly doing his job as if nothing had happened. Even well trained law enforcement officers aren't expected to stay on duty after an officer-involved shooting and Townsend is a government lawyer, not an LEO.

Originally Posted by evileeyore

The beginning stages of PTSD or paranoia?

Or both?

PTSD isn't usually diagnosed until some weeks have passed since the traumatic event. PTSD-like symptoms immediately following violent trauma are termed acute stress reaction and it is not necessarily clinically significant for someone to exhibit signs of hypervigilence or sleep disruption in the days after a life-threatening episode.

O'Toole has spent most of his career in office buildings. He's only fired his personal weapon in qualification. Nobody has ever tried to kill him before. He's been in some serious fist-fights as a kid and teenager, but it's different when people are shooting at you.

Added to that, his telekinetic powers cause massive headaches when he uses them heavily and he, among other things, lifted his own weight by levitating. His ears and nose had started bleeding over the course of the night and he ate a lot of painkillers.

Contrary to appearances, O'Toole isn't a coward, per se. It's true that he won't risk his life for duty, honour or pity, but he's probably capable of tenacious courage in the service of his personal goals. The next time he's faced with a dangerous situation, he might perform every bit as cooly as a veteran cop or soldier. Assuming that risking his life is in his interest.

Originally Posted by evileeyore

Or just a healthy fear of some of the dangerous things still on the island (rats, scaly people, Chase Taylor)...

He does fear the lizard people. The rats are objectively scarier, being a potential Doomsday Scenario for the human race, but O'Toole didn't have a personal experience with them in the same way.

I think that O'Toole is only moderately concerned about Taylor. Of course, that rather depends on what, exactly, happened between O'Toole and Cherry Bell in her room, which is something us other players have no idea about.

But even if O'Toole has a legitimate reason to fear that Taylor may consider him a romantic rival, I think that the threat of a physical altercation with another man is a familiar one and that his background in Boston's Southie has accustomed him to facing such fears.

I think O'Toole doesn't really expect Taylor to kill him just over sexual jealousy and there's no reason to expect that O'Toole has done anything to Bell against her will, which seemed to be the trigger for Taylor's hyperviolent impulses. And if it came to it, I expect that O'Toole believes his ca 20 pounds on Taylor, not to mention the secret edge of his telekinetic powers, would let him win in a brawl.

Edit: Go Pats! G.O.A.T!

[Icelander]

O’Toole pushes the closet door open. Two men look at him in consternation. One of them appears to be a federal agent, though he is unusually symmetrical and well dressed for the role. Danny O’Toole wasn’t someone who’d use the term ‘beautiful’ for a man, but this self-possessed, stylish fellow was clearly too pretty by half. It was uncanny, really, a man being that good looking. The other person was a very different figure, the rumpled, balding, bespectacled and sweaty Zachary Holden, former CIA case officer and currently involved with Onyx Rain in a security role.

Baritone: “Uh, good morning, Agent O’Toole. I’m Special Agent William Dunbar of the Office of the Inspector General. We haven’t met, but I’m read a few of your memos on the situation in Mexico. And, of course, you know Holden.”
O’Toole: [cough] “We’ve met.”
Dunbar: “We apologise for disturbing your rest, but as you can imagine, we want to get started on the process of debriefing you. Are you feeling up to that?”
O’Toole: “Sure, don’t worry about it. Just some after-effects from being too close to a flashbang. I’ve taken harder hits from baseballs.”
Dunbar: “We should probably get you checked out before we start.”
Holden: “He said he’s fine. Let’s not start coddling him like sissies.”
O’Toole: “I can give a statement. It’s not a problem.”

Dunbar and Holden escort Agent O’Toole down the hall and into an office. Dunbar keeps up and easy chatter on the way, complimenting O’Toole on his management of the emergency and commiserating with him on being stuck on a creepy island when Boston is sure to be party central in preparation for the Super Bowl against the Falcons. When they sit down, Dunbar daintily arranges a napkin as a bib over his tie and offers O’Toole a quick meal of soda and a sandwich, which O’Toole accepts.

Dunbar: “Which do you want, Reuben or egg salad?”
O’Toole: “Whatever you’re not having.”
Dunbar: “Holden?”
Holden: “Jew grub or Paddy trash? No, thanks, I’ll eat right at the canteen.”
Dunbar: “Your wide range of prejudices continues to amaze me, Holden. You’re some sort of an omni-bigot. Anyway, in my case, it would be Jock trash, though as it happens, my Scotch forebears have been here in the New World for a dreary number of years.”
[turns to O’Toole]
“I’ll take one of the egg salads, leaving you one of each. You went to Boston College, right?”
O’Toole: “Uh, yah, for a couple of years. Before the Army, Signal Corps. Ended up graduating from UMass-Boston after my two years in. Sports Science.”
Dunbar: “I got my degree after military service too. University of Ohio, Psych major. Before that, all Catholic schools. You too?”
O’Toole: “Yah. Nana insisted.”
Dunbar: “Ah, there’s no tyranny like benevolent tyranny! You can leave the British Crown behind, but Catholic matriarchs came right with us.”
O’Toole: “She wasn’t all that benevolent. But she raised me right, which I guess wasn’t easy. Those in our neighbourhood who didn’t become cops, soldiers and firemen, they were mostly crooks. On account of her, I wasn’t allowed to be a crook, so I became a cop.”
Dunbar: “Parents not around?”
O’Toole: “Nah. Mom had some problems and… I guess she never really got around to introducing me to Dad. Probably better off with Nana and Grandpa anyway.”
Dunbar: “I’m sure you were. Are you ready to begin?”
O’Toole: “Yah huh.”

Dunbar walks O’Toole through the administrative trivia that opens a statement, taking down his full name, Social Security and his job for the Department of Homeland Security. As Zachary Holden looks increasingly bored, O’Toole recounts his assignment of escorting ‘the consultants’, Dr. Anderson and Chase Taylor, to speak with inmate Sherilyn Bell of the Manhanock Asylum for the Criminally Insane, the preparations in Washington, the drive up to Maine and the ferry ride over from Portland to Jewell Island.

O’Toole takes care to describe that there were no obvious indications that anything was amiss on the island and, in any event, they were forced to disarm as soon as they came onto the Manhanock grounds. He quickly disposes of the evening meal and Special Agent Banks being called away ‘to confer with the Warden’. O’Toole claims that he was made suspicious by the subsequent hesitation on the part of the guards when they wished to speak with inmate Bell, but the guards eventually relented.

Of course, when they got to J Wing, there were cameras with external power mountings, which indicated recent installation by someone lacking access or knowledge to use the wall wiring. At that point, O’Toole claims he tried to contact Special Agent Banks, but was unable to do so. He asked the guards present to pass a message to him and the Warden, but decided that their assignment required that they ascertain what the status of inmate Bell was.

O’Toole’s narrative of the encounter with Sherilyn Bell in her cell block is fairly broad strokes and when he gets to the discovery of the brutalised man carrying papers in the name of ‘Agent Vicente Ferrocal’, he is interrupted.

Holden: “Well, how the [fornication] did you know there was someone in there?”
O’Toole: “Inmate Bell told us.”
Holden: “Oh, she told you? Real cooperative, was she?”
O’Toole: “Considering her circumstances, she was helpful enough. We got her to sign on as consultant, which is what we were sent to do.”
Holden: “In your opinion, is she even capable of doing any kind of work for us?”
O’Toole: “That’s not really my field.”
Holden: “I’m asking you as a [fornicating] field agent; if you even qualify as that. Would you work with her in the field?”
O’Toole: “I’d really prefer that Dr. Anderson judge her mental competence. That’s what he does, right? As for me, I’d work with her if she had information or contacts we couldn’t get elsewhere, sure. If we don’t have another play in Mexico, I guess we’ll work with any kind of informant we need.”
Dunbar: “Exactly, Danny. Assuming we’ve got the kind of rapport with her to be able to control her. If she can be controlled. Can you tell us what she said about this ‘Agent Ferrocal’?”

Danny O’Toole continues his story, confirming that Bell had said that ‘Agent Ferrocal’ said he had been sent by Raul Vargas. He’s vague about exact dialogue and light on description, but says that the discovery of the kidnap victim made them realise their danger and they subsequently decided to flee into the tunnels. Dr. Anderson had knowledge of the tunnels and was guiding them to someplace they could get weapons, so they could turn off the jammer that was preventing them from getting radio contact.

O’Toole: “On the way, there was some sort of altercation with a patient. I’m afraid Taylor violently subdued him.”
Holden: “You’re afraid? You don’t know [faeces] like that?”
O’Toole: “I, uh, was some distance behind him. It was dark and we only had the one flashlight.”
Dunbar: “I think what Holden is wondering, Danny, is whether you weren’t the ranking law officer on the scene with Agent Banks separated from you?”
O’Toole: “Well, I wasn’t certain that the situation had relevance to immigration offences, and, consequently, about my legal authority as a CBP officer. My, uh, temporary duty assignment to Onyx Rain was unclear about my formal authority and I was not encouraged to use my OIG credentials for law enforcement purposes beyond my tasking. No, Col. Burr was in charge. I took care to stick close to Inmate Bell, as per our instructions to remove her from Manhanock Asylum if she signed the consultant papers.”
Dunbar: “I see.”
Holden: “Hold on a minute, though. When you say a patient, are you talking about the guy in the tunnels?”
O’Toole: “Yah, wicked big fellow.”
Holden: “What is this altercation [faeces]? With a [fornicating] patient?”
O’Toole: “Well, I didn’t see anything clearly, but I’m pretty sure Taylor had been hitting the guy. Not that I’m claiming it wasn’t necessary or something. I don’t know anything about that.”

Holden and Dunbar look at each other incredulously. Then they look at O’Toole and there is a long silence.

Dunbar: “Agent O’Toole, you are aware that we have everyone who was in these tunnels in custody?”
Holden: “Are you just gonna describe that movie monster as a ‘patient’? That’s your [fornicating] situational awareness? You don’t think that you maybe noticed some things that aren’t typically present in regular mental patients?”
O’Toole: “Well, it was very dark. And I didn’t think it was really appropriate to describe him as a retahd.”
Holden: “Jaysus Tittie-[fornicating] Christ! The fact that he was a Hulk-looking cannibal don’t seem worth a mention?”
O’Toole: “I never actually saw him eat human flesh.”
Holden: “Just the bones with teeth marks and bits of victims all over?”
O’Toole: “I’ve obviously not had a chance to collect evidence, but I would not rule out that the treatment of some of the patients at Manhanock Asylum was in violation of health and safety standards.”

The look that passes between Holden and Dunbar eloquently states: ‘Is this guy for real?’

Proving that he is, indeed, O’Toole proceeds to give a somewhat confusing, unnecessarily sanitised account of events on Jewell Island, leaving out anything even resembling the supernatural or extra-human powers. It is ultimately unclear who made the decisions or how, and when it comes to the point when O’Toole got separated from the others, he claims that he was acting to keep Inmate Bell out of the hands of the guard force and that he is unaware who started firing.

Dunbar: “Now, this is very important, Danny. Did you and Col. Burr discuss the next steps at any point?”
O’Toole: “Nah. There wasn’t any chance. Besides, my ears were ringing from the shooting and then all these explosions went off.”

[tshiggins]

Originally Posted by Icelander

(SNIP)

O’Toole: “Hell, put nuts, crisps, candy and as many cases of beer as you want on there. Either they’ll give that [faeces] to us or they won’t.”
Taylor: “Roger that, Danny-boy. Out.”

(SNIP)

Just as a friendly FYI, we don't have "crisps" in the United States. That's a British thing.

What the Brits call "crisps," we call "chips," as in "potato chips" or "corn chips" or (lately) "kale chips."

What the British call "chips," we call "fries," and there are currently only two types (in most places), "french fries," made from regular potatoes, or "sweet potato fries," made from sweet potatoes.

The only exception is when we say, "fish and chips," but everybody knows that's the proper name for the dish that originated (as far as anybody knows) in the British Isles.

Nobody ever says "crisps," and "crispy" is only ever an adjective, and never a noun. :)

[Icelander]

Originally Posted by tshiggins

Just as a friendly FYI, we don't have "crisps" in the United States. That's a British thing.

What the Brits call "crisps," we call "chips," as in "potato chips" or "corn chips" or (lately) "kale chips."

What the British call "chips," we call "fries," and there are currently only two types (in most places), "french fries," made from regular potatoes, or "sweet potato fries," made from sweet potatoes.

The only exception is when we say, "fish and chips," but everybody knows that's the proper name for the dish that originated (as far as anybody knows) in the British Isles.

Nobody ever says "crisps," and "crispy" is only ever an adjective, and never a noun. :)

Fixed and thank you.

Danny O'Toole made crispy critters by detonating flashbangs in contacts with the unfortunate guard, Russel Tucker, but he'll only be eating chips while he watches the game the next day.

Well, actually, as Chase Taylor made the list of snacks, he'll be eating Southern tailgating food, including, but not limited to, boiled peanuts, pecan pie, buttermilk biscuits, BBQ ribs and chicken wings, pimiento cheese, dip, potato salad, collard greens, shrimp, grits and Conecuh sausage. Or at least as many of these as the Department of Homeland Security proves willing to buy the necessary incredients for. As a fallback, there are some flavourless Yankee chips on the list, Pringles, Frito-Lay or whatever, though it would be better if they could obtain some Golden Flake or Brother Kane.

Wow, it's been almost exactly a year since the game started. We're coming up on a new Super Bowl. I'm still recapping the end of the previous Season of play, but the game hasn't actually progressed all that far in Season 2: Once Upon a Time in Mexico, due to work-related absences by our new player and our GM changing jobs, moving twice, becoming single after a decade of being otherwise and other such things.

[Icelander]

After handing the secure mobile phone back to CPO Jansen, Chase Taylor grins at his captors. There’s a ragged, pained edge to his smile, not because he dislikes them, but because he doesn’t much feel like smiling. Still, it is a charming grin for all that, conveying self-deprecation and friendliness in equal measure.

Taylor: “Guess we’re a-fixin’ to wait a spell. Any of y’all follow football?”

The Coast Guardsmen cautiously admit to being aware of the upcoming Super Bowl LI, New England Patriots vs. the Atlanta Falcons. CPO Jansen turns out to be a die-hard New York Giants fan, who says he’ll root against anyone playing the Patriots, whom he dismisses as ‘a dynasty of cheating [illegitimates]’. More moderately, PO Coleman has long since come to terms with the disappointing season his Eagles had and just hopes for a good game, but admits that he’s got a ten spot riding on yet another Patriot victory.

Taylor: “I reckon I ought support the Falcons, having lived in Georgia an’ all, but they happen to be my brother-in-law’s team an’ if’n they win a Super Bowl, he’s liable to get to thinkin’ that the sun come up jes’ to hear him crow about it. Awww, fiddlesticks, I figure he’ll be my ex-brother-in-law these days.”
[shakes his head sadly]
Taylor: “I’mma jes’ gonna root for a good game, the way you done, Coleman. An’ hope like heck that them old ‘Bama boys on either team can make the difference. Dont’a Hightower an’ Cyrus Jones on the Patriot D an’ then them Falcons they got themselves Julio Jones an’ Courtney Upshaw. Trey Flowers, he grew up in ‘Bama, but had the bad taste not to play for the Crimson Tide, but the University of Arkansas. Still, I’mma gonna try not to hold it against him too much, it ain’t like he went to a Yankee college or Auburn.
Reckon the game comes down to whether Upshaw an’ them get to Brady or Hightower an’ Flowers get to Matty Ice. ‘Course, Julio Jones sure can put away games on his own, but I figure ‘The Hoodie’ is fixin’ to find himself a way to take away the Falcons’ star player, the way he done so many times before. He an’ Brady done built themselves a tradition of winning, like the ‘Bear’ an’ now Saban. Real hard betting against men who know in their heart an’ bones they’re winners.”

This sparks an intense technical discussion of the merits of each team and their respective chances, football philosophies and the value of defence, edge rushing and blitzing the quarterback. CPO Jansen is a passionate fan and PO Coleman played high school ball as a wide receiver. Taylor’s knowledge of the sport is intensive, not to say obsessive, enough so that might have had a chance as a colour commentator for a local station somewhere in the Deep South, if only he were better spoken. His Gomer Pyle style rural drawl grows on the Coasties, however, becoming almost comprehensible surprisingly fast.

The pleasant interlude of male bonding is interrupted by the arrival of a tall, commanding woman. She walks with a confident assurance that ensures instant obedience and has not bothered with a hazmat suit.

Westman: “I’m Dr. Laura Westman, psychological consultant for Homeland Security. Drop the ridiculous suits. The contaminants were in food and water. We’ve found no sign there’s anything wrong with the air here. You two, take me to the patient and the rest of you, get this man [indicates Taylor] into processing.”
Taylor: “If’n it’s all right with you, ma’am, I’d appreciate it if I could sort of visit with you a spell when you first meet Ms. Bell. She been through an awful lot an’ she don’t know y’all from Adam’s housecat. Might could help her some if’n she can have a friendly face there, jes’ to let her know that y’all ain’t .there to hurt her none.”
Westman [to Coast Guardsmen]: “Is he armed? Shown any inclination toward violence?”
CPO Jansen: “He’s unarmed, ma’am, and he’s been calm enough.”
Westman: “Right, you can come along then. These two will escort us, but stay far enough behind us not to alarm her. Do try to look like you’re not carrying all these guns and uncover your faces, at least.”
Taylor: “Thank you, ma’am. I’m Chase Taylor, right pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Westman: “You’re polite, at least. You can address the patient when we enter, to avoid alarming her, but do not tell her anything about us other than the fact that we are here to help her.”
Taylor: “An’ would that happen to be the Lord’s own truth, ma’am?”
Westman: “We’re the best and only help she has available at this moment, yes.”
Taylor: “Well, just in case anybody has a bee in their bonnet about sending her to some other place like this, I jes’ thought I’d let y’all know it would stick in my craw something fierce. Y’all might could still do it, I reckon, but I figure it would be over my dead body. An’ I’m hoping that covering up a murder an’ unlawful imprisonment ain’t what all them brave Coasties on the island want to be doing when Jesus gets back. Ma’am.”
Westman: “Director Gujarat told me you were insubordinate and obstinate. I see that she did not exaggerate.”
Taylor: “I’m real sorry, ma’am. My momma didn’t teach me to be uppity an’ I never meant no disrespect. It jes’ ain’t real easy trusting the government here, a-considering what happened to her before. I’ll accept your word, ma’am, that you mean to help her an’ not a write a fancy paper to justify keeping her out of sight somewhere else?”
Westman: “My word? If it will move things along, I give you my word that I’m here to provide what assistance I can render to Ms. Bell. As far as I’m aware, the plans for her assisting with our inquiries have not changed, assuming she is still capable of doing so.”
Taylor: “Much obliged, ma’am.”

Laura Westman sets out up the stairs to the cell block where Sherilyn Bell sleeps. With an obvious effort of will, Taylor manages to beat Dr. Westman to the doors to the cell block and opens it for her, which she accepts with an imperial air. Taylor follows, his sensitive ears immediately picking up the regular breathing of Sherilyn Bell asleep in her bed, as he walks hesitantly toward her glass cell.

Taylor: “Sherilyn? I’m real sorry to wake you, but the rescue team done got here.”

A moody grunt from the bed indicates that the noise has begun the process of awakening the sleeper. Ms. Bell sits up in her hospital bed with a light sheet clutched to barely cover her bosom and her blond hair inconceivably tangled after only a few hours of sleep. With her face still radiating angelic confusion, her baby blue eyes scan her guests rapidly and shrewdly, so swiftly that even a seasoned observer likely would fail to register her moment of awareness.

When Bell appears to be sufficiently awakened to register faces in the dim lighting, she shrinks back on the bed with a look of fear. She looks utterly helpless and achingly vulnerable as she strives to maintain her composure in the face of something that scares her. Even as Taylor’s superhuman senses allow him to notice a series of microscopic flaws in her performance, he finds that his emotions respond long before his analytical mind concludes that she is acting.

Taylor: “What’s wrong, darlin’?”
Bell: “Nothing.”
Taylor: “There ain’t nothing to worry about, Lynnie. Nobody is here to arrest you or hurt you. Dr. Laura Westman here is from Homeland an’ she’s going to help you. You done signed the contract an’ we’re gonna get you out of here jes’ as soon as we can.”

While Taylor talks, Bell reacts as if she’s intimidated by him and wraps the covers more closely around her body. Her lower lip is quivering, but she nods obediently, as if she doesn’t want to provoke him.

Bell: “If it’s all right, I’d like the men to leave the room.”
Westman: “Of course it’s all right, Sherilyn. Do you mind if I call you Sherilyn?”
Bell: “No, ma’am.”
Westman: “Laura. Call me Laura, poor child. And you three, get out of here, right now.”
Taylor: “Sherilyn, do you really want me to go?”
Bell: “Yes!”

Taylor looks incredulously at Bell, feeling hurt and confused. CPO Jansen and PO Coleman look at each other and obviously consider saying something about the security implications of leaving Dr. Westman in an area where they haven’t cleared all threats. Somehow, neither of them says a word.

Westman: “You can send in a female nurse, orderly, EMT or something if you insist, but get out right now, all of you.”
Taylor: “If there’s anything you need, jes’ holler. You ain’t alone an’ if they want to do anything that scares you, remember you can ask for me or Doc Anderson, all right? I ain’t gonna leave you behind in no place like this.”
Westman [to Jansen and Coleman]: “Remove him.”
Bell [tiny voice]: “Just go.”

With PO Coleman holding securely on to his arm, Taylor walks out of the cell block in a daze. He doesn’t react in any way when PO Coleman instructs him to stand against the wall while CPO Jansen gets orders over the radio. Nor does he seem to notice when the radio conversation drags on until a female Coastie arrives and enters the cell block where Dr. Westman and Ms. Bell are sequestered.

After finishing the conversation on the radio, CPO Jansen brusquely orders PO Coleman to escort Prisoner Taylor to the private patient rooms on the ground floor of J Wing and confine him there.

PO Coleman: “What about decon? Or medical?”
CPO Jansen: “Not our business any more. Someone else will process him, we got other duties now.”

The two Coasties escort the still silent Taylor down the stairs and into a disused room which looks like it was used for excited patients in previous decades. It’s got padded walls and floor, but nothing else. With a shove that’s none too gentle, CPO Jansen propels Taylor into the room and then shuts the door, locks it and bolts it. Taylor sinks down along the nearest wall and regards the door with unseeing eyes.

[johndallman]

I've just finished re-reading the whole saga. I'm impressed by the GM's ability to manage and play his cast, since I keep forgetting that Bell isn't a PC.

I'm also wondering about an explanation for O'Toole's behaviour. Was his player just wanting to stop being responsible for a while? He has a job, a family ... did he just want to escape that for a bit?

[Icelander]

Originally Posted by johndallman

I've just finished re-reading the whole saga. I'm impressed by the GM's ability to manage and play his cast, since I keep forgetting that Bell isn't a PC.

Ah, glad to see people reading the whole thing! .-)

As for the number of NPCs and the level of detail on them, I'm allowed to come up with supporting cast and sometimes even play them, in situations where it's been made clear what will happen, generally, usually by a broad strokes descriptions of goals and some dice rolls.

And, obviously, I frequently suggest what Bell and other NPCs that date from Project Jade Serenity ought to do or say, as I wrote the initial description blurbs* for them.

In the case of both PCs and major NPCs, I'll also add inner monologue as necessary when doing writeups, to make for a more coherent narrative. In the case of PCs, I'll check with players and in the case of NPCs, I'll ask the GM, to make sure I don't add something that's wrong, but in the case of O'Toole, well, no one really knows what his player is thinking, so I'm extrapolating from his behaviour a lot.

That being said, the GM is doing a fine job, aye.

*Or character sheet, in Bell's case.

Originally Posted by johndallman

I'm also wondering about an explanation for O'Toole's behaviour. Was his player just wanting to stop being responsible for a while? He has a job, a family ... did he just want to escape that for a bit?

Believe you me, we are all wondering about the explanation for O'Toole's behaviour. :-)

Especially given that the GM isn't strict about letting players make mistakes when their characters ought to know better. The other players are allowed to point out things that the character ought to know, much like a limited Common Sense Advantage.

We certainly did tell O'Toole's player that he should absolutely not lie to the Onyx Rain investigators about anything they could easily disprove from another source. Which he then went ahead and did anyway. Looking right into their eyes, with a really high Acting skill on the character sheet, but telling a story so weak and inconsistent that no one at the table could buy that any investigator would believe a word of it.

And there didn't even appear to be any conceivable benefit in it for him. There does not seem to be any negative to O'Toole if Onyx Rain realises that there were weird science or supernatural things afoot on Jewell Island. Hell, they already assume that! They've got mountains of evidence.

O'Toole even read the records they have on the enhanced physical and mental performance of Project Jade Serenity subjects and they have more information than the PCs on the effects in general. Sure, they have only projections from biological data as for the actual performance of Chase Taylor under real world conditions, but it's not as if O'Toole is going to convince anybody that Taylor doesn't have supersenses. Their medical exams showed it and O'Toole was warned about it, but informed that they had no experimental data confirming how precise these extrahuman senses were.

By the same token, Onyx Rain are not aware that Sherilyn Bell and Dr. Michael Anderson exhibit any powers beyond incredible physical and mental improvements over the human norm, so keeping shtum about any inferences O'Toole might have drawn about their more mystical abilities makes sense, but they already have extensive medical records about them, noting such facts as incredible physical condition and health almost without exercise, no sign of slowing down or other deterioration from aging, in late thirties and forties, peak human hand-eye coordination and physical intelligence and extremely rapid learning for both of them.

Trying to avoid mentioning that Terry Amiti was both more and less than human didn't serve any distinguishable purpose any of us could see. I mean, Onyx Rain would run tests on him. They'd know he had been subjected to some experimental processes that made him stronger than the world's champion powerlifters, with... some side-effects.

I get that O'Toole desperately wants to avoid casting any suspicions on his own, carefully hidden power, and that he's probably trying to shield Bell, but lying about things they'll learn anyway does not seem to fit any plan I can imagine him coming up with.

It is most plausible that the player tends to turn off his brain when playing, yes. Working in engineering while stuying to finish his graduate degree in another field of engineering than he originally got his degree in, as well as raising an active, delightful daughter on her third year, are probably about the limit of mentally challenging things he wants to do.

Edit: Now that I consider it, over almost two decades of gaming with him, the player in question often wants to play deceitful, untrustworthy, skullduggerous anti-heroes, but he's most comfortable with rolling a skill to deceive. Any time he has to roleplay a deceitful conversation... he actually tends to give up much more true information than he might have initially planned. Either he comes earnestly clean, at least part-way, or he completely fails to keep his cover story together and has to improvise a new one.

And now that I cast my mind back, I don't believe I've ever known this player to lie in his personal life. Not to escape embarrassment, not to prevent jealousy and complications in his dating life, way back in the ancient past, not even pretending to have been sick to get an extension on a school project. Maybe that's more than honesty. Maybe he's just really, really bad at coming up with plausible lies, sticking to them and then remembering exactly how he diverged from the truth in future interactions.

Maybe O'Toole's player has Truthfulness and/or Easy to Read, which caused him to tank his performance as the supposedly smooth-talking, practised deceiver when it came time to tell a coherent story mixing truth with fiction, in order to hide what he wanted hid.

---

That being said, the in-game explanation I currently favour is that O'Toole's carefully constructed facade of a G-Man with an immaculate record is unravelling now that he finds himself so close to reaching the goal of his Obsession to find out the truth about his father. He's essentially been operating under deep cover trying to infiltrate a highly secret task force in the US government, without any backup or training as an undercover operative, for the past four years.

Danny O'Toole is essentially subject to the same stresses as the characters Colin Sullivan (Matt Damon) and Billy Costigan (Leonardo DiCaprio) in the movie The Departed, but he lacks even the minimal emotional support they receive from some contact with an outside agency on whose behalf they are spying. He's infiltrating Onyx Rain on his own behalf, but he wasn't prepared for the extreme psychological stress involved in living a cover identity for years, knowing that making a mistake would mean a long time in prison at the minimum.

O'Toole was only born in 1989, which makes him 28 years of age and he graduated college in early 2013, after serving two years in the US Army Signal Corps. For all that he's got a telekinetic superpower, in addition to some really impressive near-peak-human genes, he's not a trained and experienced special operator with years in Afghanistan or Iraq. He's not even a cop with tactical experience. He's on his first actual assignment carrying a Special Agent (1811) badge, having been a CBP officer specialising in intelligence matters.

So, given the stresses O'Toole has been under and the unfamiliar and deeply terrifying situation of being chased by murderous asylum guards and caught in a firefight, I've been choosing to assume that he's suffered something of a psychological breakdown. Which is why he's acting erratically.

[Icelander]

Dr. Anderson blinks his eyes. The armed, silvery-white apparition is still standing there, still saying his name in a low, respectful, but insistent voice. Anderson answers gravely.

Dr. Anderson: “I am he.”
Voice: “My apologies for disturbing your rest, Dr. Anderson. I’m Lieutenant Oubre, United States Coast Guard. We’ve arranged quarters for you. You’ll also want to go through decontamination and medical.”
Anderson: “Quite all right, Lt. Oubre. Yes, I should like a shower.”
Lt. Oubre: “We’ll guide you to the decontamination area. You’ll be met there by people who have been assigned to take care of you. I have been informed that Homeland Security have sent off for clothing for you to wear, according to sizes they have on file, but if there is anything specific you require to be sent from the mainland, do not hesitate to mention it. We are going to be here for a while, but the Incident Commander specifically wants to avoid any inconvenience for you.”
Anderson: “That is very agreeable of him. Do I know him?”
Oubre: “His name is Curtis Ford. He is from the Office of Operations Cooperation, but he seems to be here as part of some highly classified task force with a remit for dealing with this specific kind of chemical or biological threat. Frankly, it sounds as you are likely to know more about it than I am, Doctor.”
Anderson: “I suppose I can neither confirm nor deny anything until I have spoken to my superiors.”
Oubre: “I’ve got a Top Secret clearance and am supposed to be specifically read in on all NBC warfare threats to CONUS and our emergency preparation for bio-attacks. And your answer sounds exactly like what I’ve been hearing from everybody in charge this morning.”
Anderson: “To be honest, they had me sign so many official-looking documents with non-disclosure clauses that I am terrified of telling you any more than my name, and possibly my date of birth, lest I be hauled off to some military prison for espionage.”
Oubre: “That’s rather the effect they’re hoping for, Doctor. It would be much easier to keep secrets if everyone took them as seriously as you do.

Upon arising, Dr. Anderson can see that what looked silvery in the flashlight beams from the black guns that the figures carry are white hazmat suits. The figures are also wearing rebreathing equipment, blue gloves and yellow boots. Lt. Oubre does not introduce the two men with him, but Anderson guesses they must be enlisted men or sailors from the Coast Guard.

As they escort him through the medical facility and outside, Dr. Anderson wonders whether it is necessary for them to wear full-body protection. Lt. Oubre assures Dr. Anderson that no evidence of an airborne pathogen or hazardous chemical has been found on Jewell Island and the full hazmat suits are a mere precaution, insisted upon by the mysterious task force in command.

As if to underscore his words, they can see that the courtyard of Manhanock Asylum for the Criminally Insane has been almost entirely occupied by tents, vehicles, trailers, containers, helicopters and an organised chaos of dozens of people working toward disparate tasks.

Dr. Anderson recognises decontamination tents, but another large tent, closer to the main complex, catches his attention. It has a mobile generator and what looks like highly advanced computers, sensors, and scientific devices being set up inside it. From what Dr. Anderson can tell, there is an outer tent area and an inner sanctum behind an airlock. Most intriguing at all, there are people walking inside it wearing the kind of extreme spacesuit protection that you’d wear in a bioweapon laboratory.

Dr. Anderson: “What is in that tent?”
Lt. Oubre: “More of your closed-mouthed kind. If you find out what’s going on in there; they clearly trust you better than they do us.”

Nodding tolerantly, Dr. Anderson makes a silent determination to find out exactly what kind of research is going on in that tent. Onyx Rain is not going to succeed in keeping any aspect of this fascinating mystery secret from him. After all, he’s the one who truly understands it.

On arrival to the decontamination facility, Dr. Anderson is passed on to the capable and practised staff there. There is a line of orderlies and staff from Manhanock Asylum being processed at the same time and the three-step program is completed in a matter of minutes. After being undressed, showered, dried and provided with disposable clothing, Dr. Anderson is informed that he’ll find more suitable clothing in his quarters.

Dr. Anderson’s contaminated clothes and personal items are bagged, but not tagged into evidence as the effects of others are. The burly USCG medical technician on duty passes the parcels to a goofy looking long-haired boy wearing some kind of tactical camouflage outfit and armed with a very high-tech looking black gun hanging off him. A similarly dressed, exotically handsome black man smiles winningly at Dr. Anderson.

LCDR Dao: “Mack there will carry your stuff to your quarters for you. I’m Lieutenant Commander Wendell and we’ve been assigned to take care of you. Maybe you’ll remember me, we met in Washington last week.”
Anderson: “Of course. You are with… ah.”
Dao: “That’s right. So you go on and relax. You’re as safe as you can be now.”

Anderson certainly remembers Wendell Dao from Homeland Security headquarters in DC. Dao is a personable young man whose educated diction doesn’t diminish his strong New Orleans accent. Much like the majority of the Special Forces soldiers Dr. Anderson remembers from Project Jade Serenity, he is athletic, confident and outgoing. Unlike most of them, however, who were about as ethnically diverse as an Amish picnic, Wendell Dao has black skin and features that suggest Southeast Asia.

From what he told Dr. Anderson, Dao is second-generation Vietnamese-American, born in New Orleans. Dao’s specific duties with Onyx Rain are something military. He commands the operational force assigned to Onyx Rain from something called the Joint Special Operations Command. As far as Dr. Anderson could make out, it meant he was in charge of a squad or platoon of Navy SEALs and intelligence specialists to support them.

And from the questions Dao asked over the few days Dr. Anderson and Chase Taylor spent in DC, he seemed to be very interested in the personalities and capabilities of the former Project Jade Serenity commandos who followed Colonel Alejandro Ortiz to Mexico. While Taylor had much more information on them, having served with them all for years after the Project, Dr. Anderson had been able to elaborate somewhat on the psychological evaluations he had done on them during the 1999-2000 Project.

Taylor and Dao had established an immediate and strong rapport in DC; being both warm, friendly man-boys with a similar psychological makeup, gregarious, courageous, active and inclined to self-sacrifice, or in other words, perfect fodder for the armed forces. They had also bonded over shared hobbies like wrestling other grown men for an oval ball, with Taylor even recognising Dao immediately due to him having apparently played some ‘quarterback’ position for the Louisiana State University before joining the Navy.

Dr. Anderson: “Yes, certainly. Thank you… Lieutenant? Commander?”
Dao: “Wendell will do, doc.”

Accompanied by the wild-haired ‘Mack’, Dao and Dr. Anderson set out for their destination, which the Navy SEAL officer informs Anderson is a cottage in the woods northeast of Manhanock Asylum. Formerly the homes of senior staff, the drawdown had left several units unused. This one had been recently vacated and was being prepared for several Homeland Security personnel, as well as a security team for them.

Dr. Anderson: “What about the people who were with me? Will they be staying there as well?”
Dao: “Col. Burr and Special Agent Banks are in medical care now. They’ll be transferred to a mainland hospital as soon as we get clearance to break quarantine containment for them. I hear they’re considering flying them direct to a facility where Onyx Rain has an isolation ward, but you didn’t hear it from me. Looks like they’ll both live, though. As will the patients you treated, doc, damn good job on that, by the way.”
Anderson: “Thank you. What about Taylor? Bell? O’Toole? Townsend, I suppose?”
Dao: “Townsend and O’Toole were both dinged up and had some bad shocks. Wouldn’t surprise me if they were still with the medics. Wouldn’t surprise me if Townsend flies out with the first casualty evac we get cleared, come to think of it. The Director will want to debrief him personally, in any case. O’Toole is quartered with us, if he’s well enough not to be in a hospital bed.”
Anderson: “You seem to have some reluctance to answer regarding the other two, Wendell.”
Dao: “Look, doc, you know as well as I do that they aren’t just DHS consultants. They have a special status. Officially, Ms. Bell is still on the books here as a patient. And, Chase, well, he’s still a prisoner in the DoD system. And, well, they were both involved in fatal shootings last night. Look, I’m not saying it’s fair or anything, but it’s still the way it is.”
Anderson: “Are you saying that they are under arrest?”
Dao: “I’m saying that I don’t know. Nobody is telling me anything about Homeland law enforcement issues, joint task force or not. I was ordered to provide secure quarters for six, in addition to my people, and I’ve only got names for three of them; you, O’Toole and Townsend.”
Anderson: “I am going to want to talk to them.”
Dao: “I can relay the request, doc, but that’s it.”