standalonehuman | Recolle IC Inbox

I'll be there.

A church? Really? Not like Togusa can pick the meeting place, but the choice gets an eyebrow raise from Togusa. He's got the profile picture and name of the guy (kid) he's meeting, but other than Drake's apparent familiarity with technology, he's got little else to go on.

At least Togusa has the good sense to show up in civvies and leave the gun in the car. Maybe that was the point of the meeting spot, then? People don't take guns into churches, whether they follow the religion or not. Bad juju.

Togusa casually slides into a pew and bows his head, but he is taking the opportunity to surreptitiously look around at everyone else rather than chat with a higher power.

At least Togusa isn't an idiot; the church at 3PM rush hour is exactly the best place to be when meeting strangers. A church in general, but rush hour after schools and some business workers get out adds to the defusing of any situation.

Also, Togusa might be less likely to lie.

Tim traded his contacts out for the black-rimmed glasses because looking nerdy seems less dangerous and suspecting. It's not a Holy Day of Obligation, so his outfit is teenager at best, though well put together (it's still a church and he's partially anal retentive): dark jeans, Converses, a simple cotton shirt, a jacket.

He's standing in the far corner behind the last pew on one side when Togusa comes in, a messenger bag looped over his shoulders and pushed behind him. With great scrutiny, he lets Togusa sit there and owlish peer about while he judges whether or not this is a good mission to undertake.

And then, finally, he moves out of the corner and wanders over to sit down in the pew next to Togusa.

"Afternoon," he says softly in greeting.

The thoughts turn over in Togusa's head. Is he just dealing with someone cautious, possibly paranoid, or have we gone all the way across the line into 'Togusa is being played'? He's betting on the former, the kid didn't look like he was capable of being that manipulative. But he's keeping an eye out for signs of the latter.

Togusa makes Tim as he walks over. The glasses are a switch, but that's the guy, all right. He nods slightly as Tim sits down. "Afternoon. I'm off the clock right now, so it's just Hitori Togusa."

Care And Feeding Of Your Contacts 101: only bring up your status when it's in offering protection or wielding that power in a direction that aligned with your contact's priorities. The less you even brush up against the idea that you might turn on them, the better.

"Have you been to the building, since we talked?" Let's start there.

"You can take the man out of the precinct," he says, twisting just enough to look at Togusa, "but you can't take the precinct out of the man." Off-duty doesn't mean Togusa is suddenly not a cop; however: "Togusa then," he adds, acknowledging he's intent on complying with the man's wishes. It makes things amiable, makes him seem respectful, and also puts him on the level of an adult, something for which he's always starved.

Without hesitation, he says, "No." His eyes stay lingering on Togusa's face. "But I talked to someone who did."

Add a point into the 'cautious' column. Drake wasn't coming off as naive in his messages, and he definitely isn't here. All right. Togusa nods when Tim explains. "I went back there. It was different than last time. I'm still wondering how you make an entire elevator disappear."

"Either I stayed too long or I touched the wrong thing, because I just about had a panic attack that sent me right out of the building." Togusa frowns deeply. "As if we needed more proof that Retrospec can mess with our heads."

But, focus, there's a reason he brings this up. "So if you're intent on looking into that building, I'd urge caution."

There's no way to tell whether Togusa would have divulged this information to him anyway, but Tim is okay lying in God's presence if it meant having more validating info.

"The tubes," he clarifies in a soft voice, though he sounds eager. "The tubes in the back with the strange 'gems' inside. The person who went in said they touched the tubing; afterward, something weird happened. They felt weird, I mean.

"Like a neurochemical response to tactile senses. They had to leave. The urge was too strong." He pauses, thoughtful, and then he frowns. "But the tubes weren't there before, were they? Why let people inside for that?"

Good but not good that someone verifies what Togusa had thought about the tubes. Togusa shakes his head. "No idea. They're counting something, but we've got no concept of what."

"I was really more concerned with how we got in there in the first place. Had to fill out a dumb kid's game, arbitrary information. Within minutes," Togusa can't emphasize that enough, "the information had made it into the minds of a bunch of those pesky reporters. They were nowhere near, and then all of a sudden, they're right outside the building, and asking questions about what we had just typed."

"How do you do that? That kind of information transfer is unheard of." Togusa's tone of voice is a little less objective when he speaks to this point. This really is what is standing out to him. The tubes were strange enough, but that was insane. "Because the information was so dumb? It feels like another field test."

"Mad lib," he agrees. He had to play it with Luke Triton, too, but he doesn't mention that. Already gone with the lie. Gotta keep it going. "Yours is easier to explain than the rest. It's not unlike a hidden camera show: the entry module could have been directly linked to news hotlines, or the paparazzi could have been contacted before hand.

"A kind of, 'Hey, we got this hilarious prank.' What's worse is--the 'secrets.'

"Something happened with certain people's phones, mine included. It was a recording of ourselves, playing on loop, loudly, nonstop, saying a 'secret' we had." Lips turning down, Tim twists to stare straight ahead toward the front of the church, fingers laced, hands folded in his lap. "In class, another student and I had it happen. It only stopped when, presumably, we listened to it on each of our phones.

"But the secrets were worthless. Embarrassments. It didn't sound like the recording was doctored, but I didn't have time to run it through my computer to test for tearing. But why use so much capability just to spread what seemed to be a prank?" He glances at Togusa again. "And how was it done?"

Togusa's jaw sets when Tim brings up the secrets. Some were less worthless than others. He nods, but he lets Tim finish his point. "The videos got sent out to other people. Some were...not just a prank." There is still a deep, boiling anger on Gentiana's behalf every time it gets brought up.

"As for the how, I would think that was obvious. Not like we can stop the phones from taking audio and video of us all the time. The technical details are easy. It's the content that's troubling."

"How did Retrospec know things that even some of us didn't know? In my case, I hadn't told a soul about what they put on display."

Togusa folds his arms and looks to the front of the church again, avoiding because he thinks this question is just as troubling. "And, you know? For all that reporters were following us all around? I haven't seen it reported anywhere. Me and you and Koutarou and Gentiana, we aren't suddenly on the covers of magazines, that I've noticed."

A frown turns the corners of Tim's lips down. Togusa isn't telling Tim anything he doesn't already know--or has experienced rather.

"Don't you have some kind of technology administrative team you can get to look into Retrospec?" he asks, trying to sound ignorantly curious. "Hacking into personal phones and pulling information for public display is a legal breach. Federal even.

"Retrospec went from being a nuisance to being a criminal. You're... doing something about this, right?"

Togusa spreads his hands out a little bit, still trying to be subtle and not call too much attention to himself in a church, but also to show his frustration. "If I had a team that could see the- videos."

Pause, and Togusa blinks a few times in realization. "The videos are their own separate files. Can you pull them off the app to some kind of external storage? You'd need to do that anyway in order to analyze them, right? If we do that, then we can bypass whatever security Retrospec has put into place." Sometimes a limitation can turn into an advantage. Togusa starts to sound a lot more optimistic. "From what I can tell, you can show screenshots to other people, they just can't interact with the app."

"Personally, I've had to start my investigation in a different direction. There's completely other federal laws they're breaking, too. I started with the packages they've been sending out, because I don't have the tech expertise to look at the videos. But if you can get me the videos in a format that other people can analyze? Then I can get our tech team to examine them."

Wow. Way to toss Tim around the ringer, honestly. He's both pleased and insulted all in one go.

You and we as if Tim, seventeen years old, is now working hacking for the big dogs of the police department. Quite the ego stroker there.

But when he gets all of that good information, it rolls back to the lackluster tech team that can't even get them in the first place. Jesus.

"I mean--I could try," Tim says, sounding as uncertain as he can manage. "But I'm not underselling myself here. That's a lot of work. And, well, I'm doing some pretty illegal stuff myself.

"So besides immunity, we should talk payment. I want you to do something for me in return."

Togusa sighs deeply. "It's stupid, but in order to get this started at all, we have to start with somebody who is already on the inside. And let's take a quick look at our available talent pool." Togusa frowns.

"Only one other person I've talked to has shown some competency and actually knows how information technology works outside of the movies, and he's got his own problems to deal with. I might be able to rope him in if I tell him he's got some help."

"Not the ideal situation, but since Retrospec didn't happen to choose anyone on RPD's tech team with their sampling of the population?" Togusa shrugs again. "What other choice do I have?"

But Togusa looks at Tim seriously. He's not ignoring the request for payment, but he does want to make sure they're both on the same page. "I only have so much authority with the cops. Enough that I can guarantee immunity, yes. That's no question. You've got it."

"But what else did you have in mind?"

For a moment, Tim just studies Togusa's face. He opens his mouth, but then closes it. There's not really any part of Tim that wants anyone else to know what he's interested in searching for through the police. His personal endeavours are just that: personal.

But he doubts Togusa is going to hand over authority to access private police data files. Tim can try to hack it, sure, maybe. Right now, he thinks he might have a better way in, and with someone doing the work for him.

"A favor. I want you to search the system for any mentions of something. They're called--Teen Titans. I'm not saying they're criminals. I don't know. Just that... there's five or so of them, and that's their collective name.

"I'll see what I can do about the app, but I'm not making any promises." He pauses. "Also, I have a Retrospec package if you want it. It came from 'Yuri's Angels.' I've already checked its insides for shady business. There wasn't anything of value."

Togusa blinks in surprise. That's actually a lot less troublesome than he was expecting. "That's fine." Okay, it might not be fine, depending on what he turns up, but that really doesn't sound like a name that would run across the law.

But with Drake being so thorough ~~read: paranoid~~ so far, he's undoubtedly already done a generic search for them. "Sure thing. It might take a few days to get queries through all the databases, but I can do that."

"Yuri's Angels..?" Togusa muses. "This was a building? If you've got a package, go ahead and keep it. Just," oh, how to put this? "Be on the lookout, because not everything that's been handed out in those packages has been legal. Not just the method of delivery, but somebody already got an unregistered handgun sent through the mail."

With a small shrug of the tops of his shoulders, Tim says, "I don't know.

"A guy named Yuri made a post to Retrospec saying he wasn't the sender of the packages marked that way, despite having the same name. He claims to not know anything about Yuri's Angels. I don't think he was lying.

"The package I received was a plush cat. Well, it was a cat in the shape of a hot coffee beverage. I saw someone saying they also received a cat plush. Weird.

"Anyway," and Tim sighs, "I thought it was suspicious, so I wanted to see if it was bugged. It turned up clean, and I would say fortunately; however, that doesn't give much of a lead to its origins." He tips his head, curious. "What other packages have come mysteriously out of the woodwork? Yuri said Retrospec probably sent it, but I'm wondering how true that is."

Okay. That is strange. Togusa hesitates, and runs a hand over his face. "Not Yuuri Katsuki, was it? If those two are in over their heads on something, I need to pay them a visit..."

Right, focus. Cat plushes. Weird. "Mostly mundane stuff. Necklaces, clothing, but a few weapons." There is one exception that is really really important, but Togusa hesitates. No, he can't disclose the who, but he will tell the what.

"The exception is that someone got a shipment of those stupid smiling fruits weeks before the change happened to the rest of us."

Hm, so just the unregistered handgun.

Truth be told, for as mature as he seems, Tim is still seventeen. His eyes roll heavily back, and he groans under his breath at the mention of the smiling fruit. "Don't remind me," he mutters, feeling Tired.

"If you want my honest advice," in which he's gonna give it anyway regardless, "I would start making some profiles if you haven't. What makes the person getting the handgun different than the ones getting ridiculous cat plushes? I'll take Suspicious Persons of Interest for 800, Alex." RIP to you, Togusa.

"Does that mean the person has something in common with the fruit? Or were they just a guinea pig who would have the best reaction?"

Okay, so this is awkward, Drake, and Togusa is silent for a long moment in response. Because Tim just suggested that Togusa profile himself, which is bad enough, and his boss' daughter. Which, Togusa hasn't even had the guts to ask Jade about the fruit, he's so terrified of accidentally interfering with Detective Wolf's personal life.

"Association between the person and the items? Who knows. Until we can find a way to track the packages, though, we're depending on people to tell the truth about what they're getting. We got lucky with the handgun. Or, I should say, the first handgun. There's no way this isn't going to happen again."

Sometimes you have to become a monster to fight monsters, Togusa!!

"I don't think we'll be using the postal service to track packages," he says, unfurling his fingers and raising his arms to cross them over his chest. "Cat plushes? Fine. Illegal firearms? Not exactly going to be shipped when it goes through the detector.

"But that just means it isn't the postal service that's delivering them. Which, come to think of it, I didn't sign or get mine from any kind of postal worker. It was left at my dorm mailroom." Tim shakes his head. "Let's just see what I can pull from the app first, if anything." If anything. Tim's wondering if he won't get a handful of nothing.

For a few minutes, he's quiet, looking ahead, eyes skimming the front of the church but seeing through it.

"Do you believe in God?"

Tim is right, and he's got enough on his plate, Togusa is the one who might start the legwork with the packages. Let the kid stick to his specialty, that's why you're talking to him in the first place, right?

Tim's sudden silence, and the question that ends it, take Togusa aback for a moment. An odd question, but given where they are? Understandable. Maybe Tim had a different reason for asking him here? His own gaze follows Tim's to look towards the front.

"The short answer is a no, but that would give you the wrong idea. My beliefs don't quite line up with the Western Christian idea. It would be a mistake to call me a devout anything. But my roots from Japan have definitely kept a hold." He hesitates. He is unsure if he wants to elaborate.

Because there's a better opportunity here. "Why? Do you?" Because what if the answer is a no?

"Very traditional of you," Tim quips.

A smirk turns the ends of his lips up, but he doesn't give his attention back to Togusa yet. For a moment, he considers the answer. "So you're spiritual even though you might not practice any organized religion," and not a question necessarily, but something Togusa can confirm or deny--or neither.

"Some people might think Retrospec is a divine agent," he continues, ignoring Togusa's own question for now. "I mean, theoretically: you can't see them, can't get in touch with them, yet they keep sending us 'signs,' or what could be interpreted as signs by some.

"Some are being punished almost, embarrassed, ridiculed, and some are being rewarded. The package I got from Retrospec wasn't malicious, as far as I know, except maybe to Yuri." His blue eyes shift back over to Togusa. "I don't like the idea of someone else being in control of my life," he admits.

"About the best way I could put it, yes," Togusa nods in confirmation of Tim's assessment. A lot of his beliefs are very general, they get specific when it comes to respecting and honoring the dead.

But Togusa listens to Tim's suggestion. He can see the philosophical parallels, but it's a curious thing to be bringing up inside of a church. Is Retrospec playing at being God?

"Demanding tribute in the form of information, and rewarding or punishing behavior that's in line with certain guidelines. The parallel is there. Somehow I don't think they're interested in starting a religion, though. But what does religion become in the digital age?"

They might have pulled it off by proxy. Togusa shakes his head. "I don't like it, either. But they don't have control over our lives. They're interfering, but we still maintain control."

"A few people would say there's a fine line between religion and a cult," he offers, glancing at Togusa. There's a shrug, small. "In the digital age, it's digital cults. Haven't you ever seen Suicide Club?"

A frown turns the edges of TIm's lips down. "Can you say that for sure, though? Can you stand at town hall in front of everyone in the city and assure them this company doesn't have control over their lives?

"After getting packages at addresses? After forcing app download to any device?"

"I hated that movie," Togusa snorts. Doesn't present the most positive viewpoint of his generation.

"No, they don't," he continues to insist. "Your life is a lot more than just what's contained on those devices and what's a part of the public record. The stuff you own."

"At first, it looks like Retrospec can change anything, but they can't change us. And even the ways in which they're changing our environment is limited. It's as if everything still has to work the same. The changes are just cosmetic, to us. Can't say the same thing from the horses' point of view. But they aren't altering us."

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I just keep going "Tim, no" every time I open this