Deportation and Registration
Roleplaying Log: Deportation and Registration
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Rictor goes to the offices of Nelson and Murdock for some advice on impending registration and his precarious immigration status.

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: December 17, 2018
IC Location: Nelson & Murdock
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 19 Dec 2018 02:04
Rating & Warnings:
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

One thing that Rictor steadfastly avoids if he can possibly help it is official, legal ties. But some things can't quite be avoided - not in this day and age. So he makes his way to a law firm that has a reputation for standing up for people who would otherwise not have anyone in their corner. But as far as he knows, the lawyers Nelson and Murdock are not themselves metas, which brings with it a sort of wariness.

He enters the law firm. He was polite enough to make an appointment the other day, and he's also polite enough to enter on-time.

* * *

Rictor is not the first one to come to Nelson and Murdock in the wake of the flyers and incidents around town. He almost expects now everyone to be walking in his door to be someone seeking legal advice on registration. So, when his door opens again, he's ready to greet the person who walks in with readied lines on how he can help them, or guide, or advise.

But then he relaxes himself, breathing out a slow exhale, and he smiles as he steps forward. "Mr. Richter? Foggy Nelson." He holds out his hand. "Welcome to the law offices of Nelson and Murdock."

* * *

"Foggy. That is an interesting first name," says Rictor as he steps forward to shake the other man's hand. "Thank you for seeing me. I can imagine you've got quite a few appointments these days." His English is smooth, but accented. He's carrying a messenger bag that looks to contain papers.

* * *

"Short for Franklin." Not really, but no one needs to hear the story of his foghorn-level snoring and how Matt coined the nickname, and how it stuck. Stuck so hard that even his family uses it. He nods all the same, smiling a bit at the polite thanks. He gets that a lot. It's almost textbook at this point.

"Come on back," he gestures, leading the way toward his office. "You need anything to drink? Water, coffee? Tea?" He's opening his door, holding it open for him so the man can enter ahead of him. "And yes, a number… but it's welcomed." He lets the door shut, and gestures Rictor to a chair. "How can I help you?"

* * *

"Ah," says Rictor. Apparently that's a good enough explanation for him. After all, Bob is short for Robert somehow, so Foggy and Franklin isn't much of a stretch.

He follows Foggy back into the rear and sets his bag down. "No, I'm good, thank you." He tucks his longish hair back behind his ear. "I will be blunt. I'm a mutant, and one who has not made many efforts hiding it over the years. I have no doubt that I am already on a few lists. I have a few misdemeanors to my name, a few instances where charges were dropped. Minor offenses, misunderstandings or bigoted police are the reason for most." He folds his hands together. "I own a club in Mutant Town called Shakedown. I have been the owner only one month. But I know this makes me more of a target for when registration does come into effect. I thought it would be wise to seek advice now."

* * *

Foggy's the type to not press the whole refreshments thing, and there's a certain characteristic to not having pitchers of water and fine glassware for clients, or little square of chocolate, or whatever else those high level firms provide. No, he keeps it down to earth. It's his style as much as it is Matt's.

He settles into his chair, and it squeaks slightly under his weight. He needs to remember to get WD-40 to that thing, but he will forget as easily as he remembers it. He takes out his yellow legal pad, his simple ballpoint pen, and he settles into his forearms on his desk. He starts to take a couple notes, nodding as he listens. He stops a moment at the name of the club, looking up with a sharp nod. "Oh hey, I was there a few nights ago… for your 90s night. Lots of fun, man."

Then he clears his throat, sobering up a bit. "Are you worried about authorities targeting the club to check for registration once March rolls around and the law is fully enacted?" He knows it is rhetorical, but he also uses it to prompt more information. He lets the client speak first, questions guiding and prompting.

* * *

"I am not worried, Mr. Nelson. I'm certain it will happen. If you have been to my club, you know I try to make it a place where visible mutants and metahumans feel comfortable and do not stick out as much. Those who are the easiest to spot are the most vulnerable. And the most vulnerable congregate where they feel safe." Rictor shrugs and gestures broadly. "There is…" he takes a breath. "Do I need to pay you, engage you as my lawyer before conversations become confidential?"

* * *

"I'm certain it will, too… but I also think that, that puts you in a certain perhaps dangerous position." Then he takes a couple notes in the margins. He looks up at the question, and then he shakes his head slightly. "Consults are protected under privilege. You tell me what you need, I tell you if I can help you, and if I can't, I shred my notes and then it's like you just came by to talk about your liquor license." He gestures slightly, inviting Rictor to continue.

* * *

Rictor looks at Foggy, as if he's trying to tell by looking at him if he's trustworthy. The fact that the lawyer didn't ask what his powers are is a point in his favour. Most people ask if only to sate their own curiosity, or to decide what level of threat to place him at.

He takes a deep breath, then, "Many years ago, I was brought from Mexico by people who sought to use me. They had papers for me that they gave to me. I believed it to be legitimate, but there is a rather strong possibility they were not obtained properly. I plan to make noise about registration in the coming months, which I know will attract attention to me. Is there any way I can stop my immigration status from being used against me? The easiest way to fight me could turn out to be simply deporting me."

* * *

Foggy wasn't sure what he was expecting, but this wasn't it. He's starting to learn that he needs to get used to that, that each client who sits in that chair in these new times has their own story, and those stories are all uniquely different, if not all uniquely the same.

He takes a moment to think, and then he slowly closes the cap on his pen. "You were a kid?" He looks up after a heartbeat. "Or were you an adult at that point? There's laws for kids who are brought into the states against their will, but there are also human trafficking laws that could be applied to you as well. Depending on… what they were using you for."

* * *

"I was just a few months from eighteen when they brought me across the border. They had manipulated me into thinking they were a pro-mutant group. But instead they tortured me and tried to use me to trigger an earthquake that could have leveled San Francisco. They wanted to make me cause destruction, then blame it on mutants." Despite the personal nature of his story, Rictor relates it matter-of-factly, like it didn't happen to him.

* * *

Foggy actually stops writing the moment Rictor begins to explain what had happened to him all those years ago. He looks up after that long pause, blinking sharply. "… Wow. A terrorist group using mutants for their own agenda." He says that like it's a new thing, like it hadn't been done before, but that's not true. Just other times, it was more hidden, more hard to see… and without a mutant to give the personal testimony. "I think we can use that though, Mr. Richter. It wasn't your fault. You were part of something that you didn't control, or didn't know you were being used for until it was too late." He hesitates. "If you could give information on that group, that's even better."

* * *

Rictor pushes back on his chair and momentarily lifts it onto two legs before dropping. "It was a long time ago. I haven't heard of this group for many years. If they are around, they have gone to ground or changed their name. Or splintered off into new hateful groups." He's looking everywhere but at Foggy. Disclosing anything personal doesn't come easily to him. "Look, I don't want to prosecute these people. The time for that is long past. I just don't want to get thrown in detention or deported. Or thrown into detention and then deported."

* * *

More notes are carefully taken, and then he nods slightly. "You want to live the life you've made here, and keep living it." He meets Rictor's eyes after a long moment, and he nods. "I get it, man." Then he rubs slightly at the back of his neck. "Look, I got some contacts that I can tap. There's things we can do. For now, you keep doing what you do." He takes a momentary pause, trying to think through his words before he clears his throat to ask, "Are you registering?"

* * *

"I don't think I have a choice. But I'm not rushing to do anything." Rictor exhales. "I plan to make myself more visible in the coming months. Which means if I don't register, they will come for me first. And I won't let them take me without a fight. And that will be good for nobody." He shrugs and sighs. "I don't want to, but I would be a fool to think there is not already a file on me with SHIELD, with immigration, with some other agency we don't even know what it's called."

* * *

Foggy nods slowly, taking another careful note. "You should register if only because that will make your case against deportation stronger… you're a law-abiding citizen." He sighs heavily. "That will help, even if I grit my teeth to admit that." He taps his fingers slightly against the edge of his notepad. "I know someone at SHIELD. I'll reach out and see what we can do about your concerns. My guess is that we will make sure you can still call this place your home."

* * *

Rictor tenses visibly. "SHIELD? I don't trust them." His body language becomes more closed-off. "They are some of the people I'm sure already have a file on me. I didn't…" he scratches the side of his jaw. "…I was quite active as I moved across from the West Coast. Intervening when people were in trouble. There may have been some…collateral damage."

* * *

There is always a risk bringing SHIELD into the equation, and Foggy immediately holds up his hand in understanding. "It's alright… it's an option, but there are a lot of other options to find a way to make sure that you are not the target of ICE or any other government official that is looking for a good target." Because in Foggy's mind, that's the reality Rictor faces… not being deported because he came from Mexico, but being deported because he's a mutant who came from Mexico to be used as a weapon against Americans. That's the glaring reality, but it's only projected in the way Foggy holds his shoulders a bit more tightly.

* * *

"That's why I'm here, yes. I know I'm a very tempting target. Especially if I start making more noise. And I can't promise I will keep my head down if things get bad the closer we get to March. I won't be quiet if people start getting hurt." Rictor laces his fingers hard together. The tension across his shoulders tightens more. "Which is why I come to you now instead of when I am actually charged. By then, it will be too late."

* * *

"I'm not asking you to keep your head down, Mr. Richter." Foggy spreads his hands out a bit, as if he's showing his cards. "Because none of us should stay quiet if people start getting hurt." Then he sets himself forward a bit more as he rests his elbows in the desk. His pen rolls between his fingers slightly. It's a thoughtful gesture. "You made the right choice. Really. Now I'm going to do all I can to make sure that this doesn't come to your doorstep… not without you being ready for it." Because he knows Rictor is going to be a target, but he's going to make sure he's a safe target… at least when it comes to deportation.

* * *

"Just…Rictor," he says. The subtle difference in pronunciation is obvious between his real name and his mutant one. "And just so we're clear: I'm expecting to pay you, Mister Nelson. I am not here for charity. Especially since I may need your help to protect my business as well." There's a stubborn note to his voice, and maybe a hint of pride as well.

* * *

"Rictor." The subtle pronunciation differences are acknowledged, and respected. He gets that. Then he caps his pen, and nods slightly with his guarantee. "I expected so, Rictor. Wouldn't have assumed anything else." He nods slightly. "I'll have some client paperwork sent to your business, and we can go from there. I'll have some questions, but for now, I know how to begin this process."

* * *

Rictor looks a little skeptical, like he's not really sure that's all there is to it, that some other shoe isn't going to drop. But after a moment of looking at Foggy, he stands up. Then he reaches out to shake Foggy's hand in a slightly wooden gesture. "Thank you, by the way. For not asking."

* * *

Foggy actually looks up, confusion crossing his face for a heartbeat. "For not asking?" The blond lawyer stands, reaching out for the hand that's being offered. He takes it, squeezes it with a firm shake.

* * *

"For not asking what I can do," says Rictor with a smile that actually borders on rakish. He doesn't wink, but something about that suggests a wink could have been on the horizon. He shakes, then withdraws. "We'll speak soon, Mister Nelson. Next time at my place and I will give you a drink. And free cover if you would like to stay."

* * *

"Oh." Foggy actually starts to laugh, and he nods. "No problem. I don't see the need to ask. Wouldn't have changed anything." Then he grins slightly. The rakish smile just kinda soars over Foggy's head, so does the ambiguous invite. "Thanks, man. I'll definitely come by. And we will be in touch." Then he gathers up his notebook, and pen, and the latter is tucked into the cup on his desk with the others.

* * *

To be fair, the ambiguous wording could just be a product of English not being Rictor's first language. He stands, grabs his jacket from the back of his chair and shrugs it on. "It's refreshing to meet a human who is not overwhelmed with his own curiosity. Good day to you." He nods once, then starts for the door.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License