multiversallogs | is this your house, do you live here? you're not as sick as you appear.

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is this your house, do you live here? you're not as sick as you appear.

Who: Rex and Jason
What: a bit of stalkery, a bit of investigation
Where: outside Rex's lab, perhaps other places
When: morning
Notes: idk nothing
Warnings: discussion of snakes probs.

It is a brisk, snowy morning, and that may be why the thirty gallon aquarium that has been inexplicably left outside of Rex's lab does not have any animal in it, though it is full of appropriate snake materials — butcher paper for substrate, undertank heaters, places to hide, an empty water dish, and a climbing branch.

Jason leans against the wall beside it, one hand tucked into his jacket pocket, the other hand holding a cigarette, though he doesn't actually smoke it. He looks much the same as he had the first time he accosted Rex, just a little bored.

The only reason he'd been able to track Rex down is bcause Rex deliberately hadn't taken many precautions with his CiD. From then on it was old fashioned stalking. He can't say he doesn't have better things to do, but it hasn't taken much time away from his Militia investigations, and it's about a billion times less depressing. The fact is, he needs help. Lone wolfing this shit is just going to get him disappeared. He's not sure how to make contact with the person or people behind the transmissions, but that's okay; he can gather up his own contacts. Helena is probably in, of course, though there's always Benny to consider, and if necessary, he knows he can make contact with Tim, Batgirl, Oracle, and Superboy. But that's not nearly enough.

So who is Rex, exactly, and what does he do when he's not posting strangely critical snake lectures to the cohort? It's worth looking into.

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Rex hates the cold. Much like the objects of his obsession, in fact. Funny, since he lived in the North Pole for so long like some kind of demented Santa Claus, spreading weapons and armaments across the planet. But that was different; he didn't have to step outside in that weather.

He exhales sharply, watching the fog of his breath with a gloomy expression. That's warmth leaving his body, and he wants it back. Despite having been in Baedal for a few months, Rex is still not accustomed to the winter weather.

Oh well. The sooner he gets to his lab, the sooner he can be out of the cold and working on his contracts. As he nears his workshop, pushing past a group of TMU students, Rex begins to fish around his pocket for his keys. To be honest, he's taking his sweet time, letting his fingers thaw before he pulls out his key chain.

He's looking down at the keys, sorting out which one's which, as he walks up to the door. His eyes catch the terrarium first, and he stares at it with momentary confusion (it's already furnished. A gift from Ana? Iago?) before bringing his eyes up and-- huh. He recognizes Jason instantly as the stranger he bumped into the other week, the one who'd mistaken him for somebody else.

"Hey. Uh. Crowbar guy, right?" he asks with a half-smile, pointing a finger at Jason. Playing friendly for now, but his guard's up until he knows what Jason wants.

Taking his cue from Rex's reaction, Jason chooses a similar friendly guy mode, straightening only a little off the wall, shoulders evening, neutral expression breaking into a laidback smile.

"Yep. Sorry to just show up like this, but I had a few questions. And figured, maybe you'd like to be paid a consultation fee. No strings attached. You don't want it or me around, we can both be gone." He pauses in a deliberate way, examining Rex closely for half a second. "But I also figured, if you didn't want to be found you probably would've taken more precautions."

Rex glances down at the terrarium again, putting two and two together quickly enough. He nods then, taking a quick look around, gets to unlocking the door.

"If you could carry that..." He motions to the terrarium, then pushes the door open. Despite housing several projects, the lab is fairly clean and orderly, each project set clearly apart from the other. It may turn into a cluttered wreck throughout the day, but he's always sure to put everything back in place before he leaves. The projects range from medical equipment to crystal-powered security robots-- contracted for a merchants whose warehouse had been broken into one too many times-- and there's a prototype for something that looks kind of like a bionic eye sitting half-complete on one of the desks.

Overall, it looks like a fairly innocent workshop. That's because the weapons he's been working on are down (some for Ana, and some just in case) in the basement, the entrance to which is covered by one of the tables. It's a pain in the ass to move every time he needs to get down there, but he'll take that inconvenience over somebody accidentally finding the trapdoor (which was basically the selling point of this particular lab).

"So." He tosses his messenger bag on one of the few empty surfaces. "Did you come around to ask me about the feeding habits of snakes?"

He carries the terrarium in after Rex without much effort, not setting it down until Rex gives some sort of indication where he'd like it to go — most people are particular about their work spaces, and even if Rex isn't, it's more respectful, which he is all about acting like if not actually being. The lab itself is interesting, too. There looks to be a range of projects going on, which is in Jason's opinion, a good thing. He can only hope there are even more interesting things hidden away somewhere, but he can't see any secret entrance just from standing there, and he tries not to, either. Not yet.

"Among other things. I looked into you," Jason says freely and casually, since Rex doesn't seem disturbed by someone from the cohort randomly showing up outside his lab. Being or seeming honest from the start seems like a decent approach. "You seem to have showed up some time after I did, and you're meeting lots of people and establishing a reputation. You seem like the kind of scientist that would be useful to consult on various matters. Assuming we have shared interests."

Rex shifts some paperwork aside and motions for Jason to set the tank down there. He's not showing it, but he's excited to have a habitat for a new pet. At least here he won't have to worry about the cat getting where it shouldn't.

"Did you," he muses softly, walking over to one of his projects-- the eye. He touches his fingers to it as he listens to Jason. A slight smirk touches his features. "Versatility is one of my strong suits, I must admit." He's about two seconds away from bragging about what a genius he is, but somehow, Rex restrains himself. "Well then, what are your interests? Aside from--" Airquotes. "'Herpetology.'"

Setting the tank down carefully, Jason then leans a hip against that table, glancing casually over the rest of the lab, crossing his arms in a loose and relaxed manner.

"Ordinarily I would say murdering the fuck out of rapists and drug dealers, but recently I've become interested in the systemic aspect of crime in Baedal," he says, thoughtful and mock-scholarly. "For a while I thought it was beyond me. And it was, when I was alone. But now it seems like there're friends everywhere, friends waiting to be discovered, essentially. Does that sound pollyanna of me?"

There's a genuine, albeit unpleasant, smile. Not that Rex cares much either way about drug dealers, but he reserves a particular loathing for rapists that makes anybody who murders them a-okay in his book. After all, it was the leaked photos of the militiaman "posing" with his female victims that prompted Rex to make his entry in the first place. When they were just beating people, he could remain largely indifferent (after all, it wasn't happening to him).

"A little, but that sort of optimism can be... you know, infectious," Rex says, oh, so casually. Jason has his interest now, quite firmly. Despite two years of "intensive case management" in a particularly special prison, granting him some small measure of empathy, Rex is still a terrorist at heart. As far as he's concerned, weakening this system, destroying it, replacing it with something better is a cause he can put himself toward.

And it certainly beats playing the nice nurse. He's been rapidly growing bored of that cover.

"Provided you're making the right kinds of friends, of course. Going against a system, you'll need a lot of firepower on your side. For example."

"Precisely the kind of thing I'd like to consult with you about, as well as an alternate system of communication. Because I'm pretty fucking sure the CiDs are not secure in any sense."

Jason shrugs. "I'm no expert, though I've got someone for that too." In fact he hasn't approached Babs yet and there's no guarantee she'll even talk to him, but he thinks she will. "I could put you in touch, if you like. But I'm still gathering friends, things are still being worked out. How does that strike you?"

Alternate system of communication? That's certainly relevant to his interests-- not only for selfish reasons, but because he'd also agreed to help Martha Jones devise a sort of "ghost" CiD that couldn't be traced. So far, that hadn't panned out at all. Proficient though he is with computer systems, the CiD's something else entirely, and he knows better than to tamper around with a monitored device when he's not entirely familiar with it.

"I'm interested. In meeting your friend and--" He motions to the projects. "--supplying your endeavor. And I have a few friends, myself, who may want to touch base with you." Ana, at the very least, would probably be interested. He's sure she's dying for a little fun.

Jason inclines his head appreciatively, the slight smile fleeting but genuine. The possibility that this is an elaborate Militia sting is, he estimates, low enough to take the risk; he's heard they have some pretty stringent standards as to who can join, and while that doesn't rule out them using Rex to flush dissidents into the open, Rex seems too relaxed, and his fishing post on the cohort too cautious.

"Then I'll be in touch with the CiD number —" After he talks to Barbara, though the idea of simply connecting the two without her knowing who the fuck is arranging it is kind of funny. "— and, maybe, arrange a limited gathering. For now, though, if you don't mind me asking, what kinds of things are you thinking of bringing to the table?"

"The means to leave an impression on your criminals," Rex says casually, as if he's not talking about weapons designed to smash apart obstacles and any people who happened to find themselves on the wrong side of the gun barrel. He opens his bag and pulls out a sketchbook, flipping through the pages until he comes to the middle.

"As for what I can do..." He passes the book over to Jason. With his projects and blueprints locked downstairs, he figures the sketchbook is still... well, not innocent, but it lends him some plausible deniability should this suddenly take a turn or the pictures somehow get out. They're just harmless drawings, after all, not not schematics to actually create anything.

The weapons-- rifles and pistols that don't appear to use bullets-- and accessories, like specialized scopes, may indicate that Rex has experience outfitting soldiers... or terrorists.

"Those are some of the things I can make, given the right resources. This city's technology may be limited, but there's always a workaround to be found if there's enough demand."

Except with the nanomites. Rex is still racking his brain to try to figure out how to work with machines that delicate in a place as backwards as this.

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agigjwiahwilh Chrome ate my tag right when it was finished