paradisa | [8] - backdated to pre-Rex; San Diego

[Private]

[reading Bond's report over confirmed what M had read to her mounting horror over the journals on the cruise ship ... and more. she spent most of her first comfortable morning on land with a breakfast tray from room service, sitting on the balcony of her room in the open air and flipping back and forth between the freshly penned - if cheeky - report, and Zelos' all-encompassing treatise on Paradisa.

she scribbles a few notes:]

- InGen
- Lastlook
- Winchester
- Fairfield
- Missing books
- possible ally?

[immediately after that, she stops, stares out at the horizon for a moment, then turns her attention back to the page with a sharp, determined focus and writes out a filter, carefully]

[John Hammond, or anyone who could bring this to his attention]

Dear Mr. Hammond,

We've not met, but if you are able to read this, as I surmise you may be - we have at least a common thread running through our lives. I won't mince words, as I'm sure you're a busy man. Some colleagues of mine have been to Isla Sorna, and there are remnants of your work there. Since your name was not mentioned, but that of your company was plastered all about, I thought you may have a right to know. If you wish to discuss details, please filter your reply to the name I have signed.

I assure you, I have no intention to come and root you out, or cause harm to any who may be residing with you. The hostile, armored outlanders who seemed a threat to both yourself, and the people I keep watch over, have mostly been killed, and I for one see that as a blessing. If you would rather keep to your own life and leave us to ours, I have a healthy respect for that sort of thing - but I see nothing wrong with a free exchange of information. As a man of science, I hope you will agree.

Sincerely,
M of M16

[that little gamble being made, she sets her journal aside and takes her time to finish her breakfast, even taking the time to read the newspaper that was delivered. it's all old news, really, by her standards, but it's good to even have the vestiges of a familiar routine. once she's done, she dresses for the day and opens the journal again]

It seems we have the day free, in a city that's at least passingly familiar to me. I've been to San Diego on buisness on one or two occasions, and I'm in a mood to get to know the city on a more casual level. Would anyone care to join me?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hello, 087. How about a bit of lunch, first? There's a cafe I recall being quite good.

That sounds like an idea. I'll meet you in the lobby?

Of course. [she hopes she doesn't have to tell her to dress civilian]

[Yeah whoops, Kelly's there in full armor. It's not like she really has a secure place to store it, here.]

Oh for God's sake. [she uses an old trick, biting the inside of her cheek to stop from laughing. apparently she should have said something after all]..... Don't you have any civvies?

Not really, no. Doubt I'd be able to find my size around here, either.

[She does take her helmet off and tip her head slightly. She knows she's not exactly the most common sight around, but she's comfortable like this; her kit is her most important equipment, her second skin.]

I've a feeling we could find something. Unless you'd rather go about like that...? [she's had some of the program details from York, she knows how attached these soldiers are to their armor]

[Whatever differences there were in their programs, Kelly's attachment to her armor was nearly tenfold; she'd pretty much spent the last thirty years in it, and it had saved her from everything from the vacuum of space to a direct blast from a Hunter's fuel rod cannon.]

[But she pauses. She knows why she feels a sort of familiarity with M, and if Halsey had been asking her the same thing she would have acquiesced without question.] If I could find somewhere secure to store it, I could be convinced out of it. The locks on these hotel doors don't exactly fill me with confidence.

Hmm.... It's entirely likely they have a secure vault, most luxury hotels do. If I tell the concierge I'm MI6, they're liable to let you store it there.

[Kelly nods. It might not be perfect, but it was something.] Alright then. I can leave the plating in there now, and add the undersuiting when we find an appropriate replacement.

Wait here, then. I'll go ask...

[and so it came to pass that M stowed Kelly's armor and got the address for a nice plus-sized big and tall store from the concierge, and they hired a car because M is too cool for public transportation? yes? also limos have leg room]

[It's still a bit of a trial for Kelly to fit herself in the limo, used to open-aired Warthogs and other such troop transport vehicles, but it's better once she's in and able to extend her legs.]

Never actually been in one of these. Heh, never thought I'd have a reason.

You're traveling with me, 087, and that's a damned good reason. [she smiled and leaned over to open the mini fridge. it was too early for liquor, but she took out a can of lemon San Pellegrino and began peeling the foil off the top]

Care for a cold drink? These are lovely, if you like lemon. There's orange as well.

[She cracks a small grin and reaches in to grab a bottle at random.]

I'll take anything that isn't recycled.

[Because when we say Spartans live in their armor, we mean Spartans live in their armor.]

[she ends up with a root beer, and M pulls a face at the implication of what Kelly just said] You realize now I'm even more determined to take us to a proper lunch.

I'll certainly appreciate it.

[Kelly opens the root beer, takes a drink, and then takes a look at the label. She's basically lived off of MREs and protein bars, and is still getting used to some of the luxuries Paradisa's world offers.]

What sort of things do you prefer? I'd hate to take you somewhere you didn't care for, not when San Diego's the sort of city that's got everything under the sun.

[she folds the aluminum foil from her can up and puts it in the ashtray, then cracks the can open and sips, wincing reflexively at the first taste of it. it's always more sour than she remembers, at first]

[Kelly shrugs.] Not sure I've really had enough to form a preference.

Alright, then. Something simple, then. [she's thinking a bistro would be a good choice - someplace with fresh food - salads, sandwiches, local ingredients. the military doesn't get fresh things very often at all, she guesses. rolling down the partition between the back of the limo and the front cab, she calls out to the driver]

Bit of a detour, I'm afraid. Could you bring us to Bistro 39 first, please?

[8] - backdated to pre-Rex; San Diego

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