The Nature of Human Conflict - Inheritance Gambit

It’s late afternoon on Far Southside, the edifice that is the Chicago Library is open. There’s a few people filing in and out but for the most part the venerable old building is quiet.

Well, it is a library after all.

It’s here though that a brunette of middling height with hair sitting to her shoulders can be seen entering the building. Shes in jeans, hikers and a long thick jacket. A jacket that’s soon removed as she entered and hung on a peg by the door.

She looks around, clearly looking for someone.

With another box of book donations needed to be prepped and ready to go for tomorrow morning, Ian’s slipped back and forth between the circulation desk and one of the work rooms where he’s been tediously backing books. The business of the library tends to be a toss up, really, but he makes it a point to not be away from the front too long, especially when there’s only a few others on staff.

He steps out, letting the door close with a quiet click behind him before walking between the narrow aisle between the shelves of political science and back towards the front desk. At least the books to be scanned and reshelved aren’t so much, so he doesn’t have a wall of books sitting on a cart, anxiously awaiting his return.

As he approaches his place at the desk, he slips his glasses off to buff them briefly with the inner edge of his suit jacket before slipping them back on, finally turning his attention towards the library entrance.

Justin Steele in his black jeans, black windbreaker, black V-necked shirt and black combat boots, one might be forgiven for thinking this kid would be more at home at a rave or something than doing what he’s actually doing. Which is rolling through microfiche with every evidence of real concentration, pausing to take the occasional note on a small notebook by the machine.

Property sale and auction notices going back 60 years or so, if one cares to look, a stranger topic still.

He moves, does the young man, with restless energy. His knee bobs up and down, up and down, a habitual fidget. But his eyes never leave the screen, and he’s got quite the air of determination about him. One earbud is in his ear, blasting music, the other is dangling down his windbreaker. It’s just loud enough to broadcast that music is happening when one is close enough, without forcing anyone to listen to the lyrics.

The music is certainly loud enough for the LMD that’s just entered the building to turn her head in the dark haired young mans direction. Mid twenties, slight build, totally human looking and acting – no one can tell or would know she is anything but human – not without specialised equipment, at any rate.

Tapping the youth on the shoulder, amusement fills her eyes “This is a library ….” she murmurs “… and not everyone enjoys your taste in your music. Mind turning it down?” The accent is British, oh so British.

It’s then that she see’s Ian and Kaylee Simmons offer the librarian another smile “Mister Owenshire! Just the person I was looking for.” Still not loudly, it is a library afterall. “I was wondering if your establishment had anything on the flora of Africa.”

A strange request, no doubt, and Ian might well wonder what a SHIELD Agent – a scientist – is doing asking such things in a public library. Then again, he might know.

It’s rare that anyone requests to use the microfilm machine. There’d been talk about getting rid of the thing since it was old and no one wanted to maintain it, but a lot of the data, that most were of the opinion were just as outdated and useless, had no digitized backups and no funding had as of yet been provided to do that. Ian was in the end glad that they’d held onto the machines and files they yet had, and everytime someone made use of them, he liked to mentally strike another tally mark in favor for such things.

There’s a half-smile as he recognizes the young woman that’s come in, more so as she goes to speak to the young man going over microfiche before she turns her attention his direction. “Miss Simmons,” he greets, nodding at her with a fuller smile, more genuine than the ones she’s probably been accustomed to, if for the fact that there wasn’t a preamble of things exploding or people going crazy.

His brow lifts at her request, straight forward and quite unusual a request indeed. He opens his mouth in an unspoken ‘ah’ before nodding. “That would be in the- ah, well, I’ll show you. The botany section does get a little lost with everything else.” He starts around the desk again, nodding for Kaylee to follow him. “This way.”

“Oh! Crud! Sorry!” Justin hastens to fumble his phone out of his pocket so he can adjust the volume. Then he realizes his voice is also a little louder than he intended. He drops it. “Sorry,” he whispers again. “I didn’t realize it was that loud. Sorry!”

He clears his throat before he can offer 18 more of those, and then glances to identify Mr. Owenshire just for reference. Why does he need to know? Because it’s a fact, it’s a new fact, it’s something that might come in handy someday, because he likes to know things, take your pick. Flora of Africa is a weird request. The process is repeated when Owenshire greets Simmons in turn; the name is filed away.

As they head back to the botany section the young man turns back to his work, bobbing his head a little bit; he won’t interrupt her pursuit of knowledge, however esoteric, and as patient as he is with the process of digging through the oldest of the old it is something he wants to get over and done with. He shoots them one more quick, friendly smile and scrolls through to the next section on the fiche, tapping his pencil restlessly against his notebook before jotting something else down.

For her part, Raquel entered the library with silence in mind. Her foot-falls soft as shadows as she moved quietly towards the history section of the Library- specifically looking towards information on Wakanda. She pauses when she notices Ian- a face she knows. Another woman, one she doesn’t know. A young man. Again, an unknown.

She approaches, bowing her head towards Ian as she gets close. “Greetings. Good to see you again.” she offers, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Kaylee would follow Ian but she’s seen what the youth is looking at on the microfiche. “Hasn’t that information been digitised yet?” she squints and then squints at Ian. “What are you looking for? Auctions?” It is as unusual topic for a youngster to be looking into.

“I’m looking for rare plants of Africa that come from a geographical region between Kenya and RWanda. Do you have anything on that do you think?” That can’t be the reason she’s there – surely SHIELD has the resources on that. So why, is she there?

As Raquel approaches, she looks back to the microfiche, giving Justin a little frown as she wonders but smiles at the woman who enters “Not at all, why don’t you help her first Mister Owenshire.” Her request is likely going to get a raised eyebrow.

There’s a bit of a flinch at Justin’s exclamation. Thankfully he doesn’t have to intone library rules, giving the young man in black a grateful look and a slightly crooked smile. As he comes around the desk, he glances at Kaylee as she drifts back towards Justin and the microfiche, shrugging. “Well, no. Mostly because no one wants to spend the money on having it done. I don’t know though, skimming through microfilm by hand on the old machines has a certain charm to it. At least, I think so.”

The slightest frown mars his brow at her specification of rare plants in Africa, which makes him wonder a little more about what she might actually be trying to do here, but as someone else enters, Ian glances over, blinking at the woman, another familiar person, if only since he’d just met her a couple of days ago. “Miss Munoz,” he says, nodding at her as he steps over at Kaylee’s insistance. “Good afternoon. Anything I can help you with?”

Justin starts as he realizes Miss Simmons is addressing him again. “Not exactly,” he says. “I’m tracing a pattern of property purchases and sales that might point to a decades-long pattern of corruption and grift being committed by a local real estate development firm. Sometimes to understand what’s going on today, or even to build a case for it, you have to look back on it tomorrow. And I agree, Mr. Owenshire! It definitely does. Have charm. It’s tactile, you know? Makes the information that much more real. Eyes have a tendency to skim, skip, and jump around on a computer screen. I’m really glad this place still has them. Also a lot of the old publications don’t keep any digital records online either.”

He realizes he’s enthusastically babbling to people who probably don’t care that much about either his Adventures in Microfiche or real estate development corruption. “Why are you looking for rare plants out of Africa?”

Oh look, someone new. The restless young man flashes Miss Munoz a quick smile too, not at all discomfited by her grey skin, and realizes he now officially has everyone here at a disadvantage. “Justin Steele,” he adds, shifting gears from Africa to Introductions. “Nice to meet you all.” Is that what he’s doing? Meeting them all? Theoretically anyway that’s exactly what he’s doing. The leg keeps right on bouncing, but he’s turned to face them all in rather amiable fashion, running a self-conscious hand through his curls.

“A pleasant surprise to discover you here, Mister. Owenshire. And please. Ms. Munoz.” Raquel says, “A quirk of semantics, I realize, I will thank you in advance for indulging it.” Raquel has a pleasant enough voice- and easily heard, even speaking quietly as she is. Of course, it isn’t her voice that would draw the eye. She’s very tall- several inches past six feet. Her skin is dark ash-grey. It is not a human color whatsoever- and those eyes. Pale white orbs that seem to sit unmoving in her eye-sockets.

“I sent a request through the automated systems for a number of books on Wakanda. This branch of the library is stated to have all currently available, I’ve reserved them.” she states, “Mister Steele.” She offers to the young man, before looking back towards Ian.

“Mister Steele. Ms Munoz. Kaylee Simmons.” They can’t miss the SHIELD logo on the pocket of her shirt but she seems so … casual. “Unfortunately, Mister Steele, grift and corruption occur but what is your particular interest in the matter?” She’s interested. Then again, Jemma Simmons was child prodigy and anyone shows interest research early is likely to catch her attention. Or, rather, her digitised selfs attention.

She inclines her head at their explanations and casts Ian an apologetic look. “My apologies, I sometimes forget that not everyone has the resources I do.”

“Wakanda?” That draws a sharp gaze to the grey skinned mutant “What is it you want with Wakanda? That place was levelled in the Wakanda – Genosha conflict of 1995.” Before even Jemma had joined SHIELD.

Well, it’s always nice to know there are other people that appreciate such things! Ian grins slightly at Justin’s enthusiasm. “Exactly,” he says, a quiet laugh following the hasty introduction that’s tagged at the end of everything. “Nice to meet you too, Mister Steele.” He can’t be that much older than him, but Ian’s officially on the clock and it never hurts to be polite, in any case.

To Raquel, he smiles a little sheepishly as he lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Well, I work here,” he replies, realizing that that might not have been the impression given those that had been requested to meet at the AUC’s offices. That’s probably a strange thing to say at all, as why would the library have any interests, let alone assets to pour into finding lost millions when they wouldn’t even pay for new equipment and file transfers?

“Ah yes, I believe I remember now. I did pull that request.” Of course, that means most of what he would have likely picked out to read up on will have been made a part of that order. Oh well. He glances briefly at Kaylee as the subject calls her attention, and then looks back at Raquel. “One moment. They’re right here at the desk.”

Turning from the group, Ian goes back behind the circulation desk to pull out a couple of stacks from a shelf reserved for holds, setting them on the counter.

“Working on an article, I’m a reporter.” It’s a sure bet Justin hasn’t missed the SHIELD logo, but there’s something even more intriguing in the Wakanda bit. His microfiche is now completely forgotten as he studies the two women. All the restless, nervous energy and boyish cheer falls away, this is fascinating, and one mostly learns things by shutting one’s beak and opening one’s ears. Thus, the young man does just that, doing nothing to draw much more attention to himself. He’s all active listening now, though he ruefully comes to understand he might have tanked getting anything good by allowing the information about himself to find its way out from between his teeth before hearing what Ms. Munoz has to say about it.

Then again, it can’t be any worse than what she might have held back to a SHIELD Agent of all things. So he’s hopeful that he’ll at least hear something cool. This is not to say that Mr. Owenshire doesn’t get a quick grin from him as he recognizes someone who might be something of a kindred spirit. But as the librarian steps away he goes back to his…what? Eavesdropping? Interest?

We’ll go with interest. Polite! Interest! In this interesting conversation!

“I have a particular interest in the nature of human conflict. A morbid fascination, you could say. There are particular books on this particular subject that have not been digitized, and are woefully out of print. Luckily, we have a world class repository close to home for me to borrow from for nearly any subject.” Raquel offers to Kaylee, with a bow of her head. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Simmons.” The grey-skinned woman says as she turns towards Ian at the desk to collect the books she had reserved.

There are seven books on the order. Three are histories written from differing perspectives based around the war. One is on Wakandan technologies. Two are on mythologies and folk histories for Wakanda and the region around it. The final book’s subject matter has to do with Wakanda and its place in world politics. All the books are of scholarly styles, written by experts in their particular fields- a broad range of topics, to be certain, albeit on a focused subject.

“Thank you, Mister Owenshire.” Raquel says, as she reaches into her pocket to pull out whatever appropriate library identification she would need to borrow the books.

She turns to look towards Justin and Kaylee. “History is an important subject to study. Doomed to repeat it and all.”

“You are, are you?” Kaylee smiles at Justin’s assertion he’s a reporter. He’s … so young. Than Ian and Raquel know each other hasn’t been missed either “It’s funny how can you meet someone one day and then keep running into them after, isn’t it?” She might be referring as to how Ian keeps bumping into her. Or vice versa. Take your pick.

As to why she’s looking into the flora of Africa, the LMD lets out a low breath “Are you familiar, Mister Steele, with the drug epidemic that is gripping Chicago? The one that is giving humans powers and making them irrationally angry and violent?” He can’t really have missed. Even though it started in the Sprawl and wouldn’t have received a lot of attention, it’s now spread to ‘polite’ company and hitting the city proper. Each day, more and more cases are being reported. “I have reason to believe that a plant originating from that area is being used in its manufacture.”

And how does she know that?

The books that are delivered to Raquel are older. The poli-sci one dating from the early nineties. Even then, little was known about Wakanda and its place on the worlds stage was mostly ‘behind the curtain’. “If you’re going to study human conflict, that’s not a bad one. Genosha, fearing the rise of X-Gene and ‘mutants’ struck at Wakanda with all the super soldiers they could develop.” As far as history can tell, it was the start of World War III.

My, how popular the library’s gotten of late! Granted Ian’s a little more at ease with the current crowd than particular others. He just hopes that none of those ‘others’ happen in with them all here. Seeing a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in particular might raise suspicions- if they aren’t already raised. Ian simply hopes not to be caught in an early crossfire.

At Kaylee’s perhaps not so subtle jab at the previous and consistent encounters Ian’s had with her, the librarian coughs, looking pointedly at the computer as he wakes it up the screen with a few clicks. He scans each of the books in after taking Raquel’s library card, slipping out the receipt with the book list and due date into the topmost of the stack after he’s demagnetized them all. “Here you are, Miss Munoz,” he says. “Good reading.”

A look is cast back in Kaylee’s direction as she brings up the drug situation with the young reporter. “Please try to keep it down,” he quietly chides, a reminder of where they are, and perhaps a nudge to Kaylee as the topic is a highly sensitive one. Maybe she’d heard about the take down at the bookstore across the street from Samantha or the agents that accompanied her then, but the library was at that point a potential hotspot, only verified after an impromptu, certain meeting by an SF rep and that of Ian and his associates.

“I’ve only had a few things published,” Justin says sheepishly, at Simmons’ smile. He’s aware he is young. He’s aware he looks younger than he is, to some eyes. “But I mean they were.”

But this talk of drugs? Yeah. Well. That is going to get him right off the real estate case. He has heard about them, of course he has, though chances are he’s going to pull up all the existing articles and get it all nailed down and researched.

He slowly swings his gaze from woman to woman, vastly aware they’re both talking about Africa. Course. Africa is a real dang big place, but he can’t help but wonder if there is a connection.

The ‘please try to keep it down’ has him lowering his voice, even as he ventures a question of, “Which plant? What makes you think it’s from Africa?”It’s almost a whisper, now, and he ventures a glance to Ian as if to make sure it’s low enough.

“Interesting.” Raquel says, as she looks over towards Kaylee. “An African plant at the center of this drug issue.” She offers softly, as she leans back to think a moment- simultaneously beginning to read through her books. She flips a page… a few moments later the page is turned again. Her slender finger rapidly sliding along text before again the page is turned. It seems she’s quite the speed reader.

“What sort of powers?” Raquel wondered, then, as she flipped another page. Her head is mostly turned towards the book now, a follow up question to Justin’s questions, clearly.

Kaylee actually smirks at Ian and his reprimand. She does look a little sheepish. Does she know that the library is a hotspot? Does she know of the arrangement he cut recently? She’s SHIELD, so maybe? One things for certain though, she’s not here for books on the plant – if that information is available, SHIELD would have it, wouldn’t they? It’s likely she’s just checking in on the Librarian and making sure he’s still in one piece.

“Sorry…” she pitches her voice low and directs it in the direction of the group gathered. “According to my analysis, yes.” Her analysis, she said that. So what is she, at SHIELD? “The chemical breakdown of the drug and the profile I’ve been able to build from it, indicates that the biological properties of that particular organic material is only found in that particular geographic location. And I don’t which plant, just it’s chemical composition. It’s not anything that I’ve seen before.”

“And not the center of the issue, no. The drugs are a cocktail of opiates, this plant, a metallic compound that is extremely hard to find and …” she looks at Ian, expecting another rebuke from the man in a moment “… mutant hormones. The metal and the plant combine to get the hormones to take … and the powers all vary.”

Kaylee can smirk all she wants but Ian’s not the one that whips out something that looks like a gun at the first sign of trouble. …that’s largely because he doesn’t own one (yet, Francisco’s probably actively seeing to change that). The librarian smiles approvingly as they readjust their volumes, giving Justin a small nod.

Things are certainly put into a new perspective with the additional bits of information that Kaylee’s provided. Ian wonders if Raquel might be considering the same thing given some of the things they’d been informed of at the meeting they’d attended recently. In particular his interest in that ‘goop’ that had been mentioned to be found has been renewed, especially as Kaylee explains about the make up of the plant used for the drug in question. His pale eyes flick towards Raquel briefly.

Justin’s glance for Ms. Munoz is appreciative. That was a good question, and if there’s anything Justin Steele appreciates it is the power of a great question.

If it’s an African plant, they have to be transporting that from Africa somehow. That means planes or ships. Justin might be able to help them identify the plant, plus a fair amount about the shipping operation, just by poking around the hangars and the docks. Slow going maybe, but not impossible going. He doesn’t announce his ability or desire to do that; he’ll bring Miss Simmons the information if he finds any. Until then it’s just a bunch of overpromising, and the youth doesn’t want to do that.

What does happen is he gets a remarkably serious expression on his face. Nice as it would be to use all this info to build a story nobody here has agreed to be on the record and there’s more important stuff going on. People are already getting hurt, Justin knows that much, even without an in-depth review of the existing literature. That matters more than his byline.

Still, he realizes they have no way of knowing that, so he says softly, “Off the record, promise,” just to clarify that he’s not going to throw Ms. Simmons under the bus here.

“Opiates. Synthetic or natural?” Raquel wonders next, as she rather quickly finishes her first book and puts it to the side. The topic is somewhat sparse, after all. A lot of conjecture. This is still the best data she’s got, for now. “And the metal- noble? Heavy? Precious?”

The grey-skinned woman looks quietly towards Ian, a brief glance shared. She then picks up her next book to begin paging through it.

“I apologize if this is too many questions. As I said, I find many morbid topics extremely fascinating- particularly concerning to the human condition.”

Kaylee doesn’t miss the looks between Raquel and Ian and cants her head in an unspoken question “Oh, I know the source of the metal that’s used. There’s currently no known sources in the world today, so I’m at a bit of loss where it’s coming from.” That will tell those two a lot in just one simple sentence and they might know the source of it themselves.

“Synthentic opiates. Easily enough manufactured to be honest. Just the average run of the mill street drugs. I don’t want that to sound blase, but they’re just the delivery mechanism to get people to take this stuff.” She had said it contained mutant hormone – where on earth did that come from, particularly in the quantities to get that much drug out onto the street?

Justins reassurance has the brunette snorting softly “Glad to hear it, Mister Steele. My superiors take a dim view if my name appears anywhere…” Who is she?

That’s another point in Justin’s favor. Maybe the general expectations of someone who claims to be a reporter is that said person might be a nuisance, too nosey for their own good. Ian’s glad that it doesn’t seem to be the case here. He just hopes the kid doesn’t get into any extra trouble about the whole thing. You just don’t ask information like this for no reason.

For what might otherwise be oddly specific questions to one end or another, Ian appreciates Raquel’s asking them. It’s still interesting information, and he absorbs whatever details he can as Kaylee responds, even though some of it is already known to him and others he’s sure that the Soup Duo might already be aware of.

Ian himself has nothing to contribute, or rather does not wish to. Not here, anyway. He does listen while he busies himself with straightening out things that have been left out and about the circulation desk, a task which at least never seems to be unnecessary since he always finds himself cleaning up after whoever had the shifts before him.

So. The metal is probably vibranium.

Justin is now watching both women extremely keenly. They are on the trail of the same rabbit, it seems. He’s almost sure of it. “I just thought it would be polite to reassure,” he says softly, but the look on his face says he put two and two together just fine. That might help him narrow the search. He chews on the inside of his cheek. “Is the plant from the same region as the metal?” Because that would be extra interesting, wouldn’t it?

The kid is definitely going to get into extra trouble. And while he strives to act as professional as possible, the truth is he asks questions the way other people breathe. Even if he planned to go home and binge Netflix and not give it another thought (unlikely), he’d ask.

Raquel lacks eyebrows to lift at Kaylee’s words. She would be lifting them, however, at this moment. “I see. A very rare metal. A very rare plant. Synthetic opiates.” she reiterates, thinking aloud. “The drug- does it tend towards any particular color?” she wonders- a hyper-specific question to be certain. Followed by only the sound of another page turning in the book she is reading.

“I’m not sure, to be honest.” Kaylee answers “My testing processes aren’t that specific. The hits I got on the botanical components give an area, which is quite wide.” She hadn’t said where the metal was from, just that there were no longer supplies of it available.

Raquels question has her attention though and the biochems brows furrow in thought. “The samples I’ve managed to obtain are cloudy. No particular colour, I’m afraid. You seem to have an interest in this …”

Truth be told, they could use the assistance. SHIELD doesn’t have the trust of the common people – well, not like that anyway.

She looks at Ian and then Justin, shaking her head slowly “And I can see that I’ve tweaked your reporters instinct….” No use telling the youth don’t do this – he will anyway. Kaylee does something rather unusual. She takes out a business card and hands one to Justin and one to Raquel.

Agent Cailean Simmons. SHIELD Science and Technology.

“If you find anything, you will let me know won’t you?”

Justin ducks his head and offers a grin. “Yes ma’am. Agent. Ma’am,” he says, taking the card and filing it away. He also withdraws one of his own and offers it back to her. His is a shiny black engraved with silver lettering, along with a little silver bird in the shape of a raven in flight. Justin Steele, it reads, Freelance Reporter. www.birdseyeviewblog.com, jsteele@gmail.com, and a phone number. He stands to offer one to Ms. Munoz as well. Sure, he has no idea if she wants one, but the Great Ritual of the Business Cards has begun, and for all that he’s a young guy he seems pretty practiced at it.

The business cards are quite well-made; this is no stock printing company’s work. He takes them out of a silver card holder carried in the inner pocket of his windbreaker. “And would you please let me know if you find your superiors would believe it useful for any of this information to make it into the media? I’d be most appreciative.” The courtesy seems second nature to him as much as the ritual of the business cards does.

Raquel pulls her own card out of her pocket, offering it over to Kaylee. “Ms. Raquel S. Munoz. Crisis Management Professional.” A Fixer. “I’m sure I can do that for you, Agent Simmons, but I do hope you’d give me the same courtesy.” Her card indicates she’s on Worthington’s payroll. “I’m sure we can reach an ultimately beneficial arrangement.” Another card is provided for Justin in short order.

Raquel begins to collect her books- even the one she had finished while standing there with the others. “This kind of epidemic is bad for the city of Chicago, and everyone in it.”

“Kaylee.” the Agent says gently to Justin, amusement dancing in her eyes. Jericho knows that she has a fixation on her name being used and he knows why.

Taking both cards, she regards the youth a little longer, nodding slowly. “I believe we can use that to our advantage.” What better way to smoke out someone but to feed information? Just what information is the question. She’ll think on that.

“Of course, Ms Munoz. We all have an interest, it seems, in stopping this epidemic.” At least some do, this group at least. Some … just want to take the operation over themselves, she’s sure.

Huh. Worthington Industries fixer is interested in this. Why? Is it Good Samaritanism? Not outside the realm of possibility of course, but she’s a fixer. What is there to fix? Did the ones involved use Worthington resources somehow?

“Kaylee,” Justin agrees cheerfully, even as he tucks both cards away. He sweeps up his notebook, turns off the microfiche machine, gently withdraws the cartridge and takes it over to the return bin for reshelving.

Then he’s outside. He steps into an alley– his abilities cease to be an ace in the hole if everyone knows about them– and takes a deep breath. He lets his body blur and shift down into the form of the raven, starting with his burst of curls which become feathers as he shifts down and changes. Clothing seamlessly blends into all of it for reasons he’s never fully understood, as does whatever he’s carrying. He’s grateful though, otherwise he’d have to do this whole skinny boy butt in a major city thing and that would just suck.

Then he takes wing. His guess is the docks. Because if it is vibranium, he seems to remember that’s heavy. Transporting that stuff by air not only would burn up a great deal more fuel, but it also would subject both the plants and the metals to greater scrutiny. There are certainly anti-terorism measures being taken on the shipping lanes, but no avenue of transportation is locked down like the planes are. He’ll have to narrow this all down some, might have to comb through it rather painstakingly, but despite being flighty (no pun intended) from time to time he’s ultra-patient when he’s on the trail of something good.

And let’s face it. This is waaaaaay more fun than microfiche.

Raquel, too, makes her way out of the library. She has more research to do- but, eventually, she’ll make her way to the docks. Just not yet. First, she needs to be armed with the proper knowledge.

Kaylee Simmons and Raquel Munoz come to Ian Owenshire for help on two different cases. Or is it the same case? Justin Steele's nose for news starts twitching. Hard.

Date:

January 06, 2051

Location:

Chicago Library, Far Southside

Plot:

Mutant Growth Hormone

Storyteller: