At The Precipice Of Something New

Something Borrowed

Covenant
January the 9th, 2288
11:26

Getting past the gates had been surprisingly easy, if tedious and annoying. All it had given him was reaffirming the town was, in fact, trying to determine whether or not they could let people in based on how they responded.

What amused him was, even though he had attempted to see if he could trick their test into thinking he was a synth, he apparently passed with 'flying colours' according to the man at the gate.

A seasoned liar, he knew the man at the gate had been telling the truth. Stretching himself out as he walked, Deacon pulled his sunglasses out from where he had tucked them into his shirt. Flourishing them out before sliding them onto his face, Deacon began to shake out his (falsely) long, blonde hair. It was always enjoyable to have long hair, if only because he enjoyed (occasionally) smacking people in their faces with it. Sass. It was one of his favourite things, and, considering the grim subjects they had discussed, it was one of the few things to lighten the mood for him when he and Dan had returned from slipping out to see the remains of Stockton's caravan. The last of it had just about completely decayed, and something about standing in front of where a group of innocent people were slaughtered and one of them kidnapped had left him with a rage he hadn't felt in a long time, rage he hadn't felt since he had turned his back on his fellow gang members. Sass was the only thing standing between him and abject horror and rage towards the people in the town, the permanent residents of the town, and, in particular, the mayor, who deflected every question, even the ones that should have been simple and easy to answer.

"Brian, these are Janet Haylen and Laurent Rhys" Dan said, raking his hands through his hair. "Brian's working with me, trying to figure out what the hell is going on here."

"Lovely to meet you," Haylen said, reaching over to shake his hand. "I had thought there weren't any other people particularly interested in a town like this."

"More so curious about what goes on within a town like this," Deacon said with a flip of 'his' long blonde hair. "I take it you are too?"

"Very much so," Rhys agreed, passing something to Haylen behind his back. "I see you're one of Dan's...colleagues?"

"Sure," Deacon said with a shrug. "How'd you get roped into this?"

Rhys bristled. "We're simply looking after mutual interests. If it weren't for that, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"I am curious," Haylen put in, sending Rhys a pointed look. "We've barely uncovered a thing in the time we've been here, although, admittedly, it's only been just over three weeks. Do you have any leads?"

"Depends on what you're here for," A woman's voice said, and they all turned to see where she was standing, leaning against a building, smoking a cigarette. "I may have a few."

Dan frowned. "I don't appreciate the eavesdropping, or the attitude."

"Would you prefer a more proper introduction?" The woman sighed, tapping excess ash off her cigarette and slipping a pair of thin red reading glasses out from tucked into her coat and onto her face. "Or, considering you're a caravan master working out of Bunker Hill for," She pulled out a notepad from her pocket and flipped through a few pages. "A Mister Jacob Stockton, would you –"

"How do you –" Dan warily began, unable to hide his discomfort.

"I listen, something you might want to do more of," The woman said, slipping her notepad back into her pocket and taking a draw on her cigarette. "You don't learn a damn thing by asking questions or investigating alone. Although, if this is what you call investigating, you're doing a piss poor job at it."