1723/Some Follow-up Questions

Some Follow-up Questions
Date of Scene:	17 May 2020
Location:	Academic Hall - Happy Harbor High School
Synopsis:	Alexander Aaron is packing up his school locker. May and Sam Morgan find him there and invite him to their regularly scheduled lunch.
Cast of Characters:	Alexander Aaron, Melinda May, Samuel Morgan

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Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The idea of Fate plays a strong role in the life of Alexander Aaron. For the three Moirai are known to him and well acquainted with the course of his life, at times watching, smirking, and even winding a thread or two around his to bring to his life more interesting times. He may be aware of this proclivity, but knowing of it does not mean there is much he can do about it.
    Though now even as that thread twists around his own, Alexander walks down the hallway of the school, the great sweeping front hall with the branching paths that lead into the depths of the school offer him a few paths before him. He takes the left most, toward the faculty area, toward the gymnasium and the auditorium.
    Not for any particular reason or wish to speak to those there, but instead for one simply logistical endeavour. For simply put, that is where his locker remains.
    Class is still in session, the final week of school having begun in the morning. Classes that the blond youth should likely be attending but with what passed... perhaps some time apart might be best. Yet there he was, walking the hall, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans and a black t-shirt upon his chest. Over one shoulder was an ESU backpack that had only a few books within. Though that was likely to change soon.

Melinda May has posed:
Having arrived early (much too early) to pick up Samuel Morgan for a scheduled meeting, May was on her way through the school's hallways when she heard the footfalls of someone else wandering about. Odd, considering she knows that classes are currently in session. She turns to follow, ready to pass it off to a faculty member or security guard that she got turned around, but her all but silent footsteps lead her to see young Mr. Aaron from the recent unexpected recovery mission.

Why isn't this kid in class? She could shrug this off and let him do as he pleases -- he is a senior, after all -- but after watching the recorded debriefing footage, she has the impression that this is not just typical high schooler truancy. So, she keeps following him. To any casual observer, she's just strolling along the hallway. But she's still keeping her footsteps as silent as possible, and her hands are lax at her sides.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The Olympian youth stops at his locker and pulls it open after flitting through the keystrokes needed to disengage the mechanism. Once that's done he swings the door fully open with a faint squeeeak that carries more than the sound of the young man unzipping his backpack and dropping some books onto the floor before him.
    For a time he's just casually going through what's stored in that locker, a few more text books are dropped onto the others at his feet, while a few personal effects are grabbed from within. A large red H is pulled from inside, wrapped in its little bit of plastic wrap. A plastic container of sorts that he shakes a little to have a listen to before opening to check what it is. That's tossed into his backpack.
    For a little while longer he continues on. But with that angle he does tilt his head slightly upon catching sight of May, calm hazel eyes meeting her gaze, taking her measure... and then flitting back.

Melinda May has posed:
Having been noticed, May doesn't slow or stop her approach to the young man who appears to be clearing out his locker. If he's as skilled a combatant as Morgan's assessment in the debriefing made it sound, he's likely already placed her as someone with at least some combat training as well.

She stops at the end of Alexander's section of lockers, close enough to talk without having to raise her voice at all, but far enough that her presence could never be construed as looming. "Mr. Aaron. Getting ahead on the end of the school year preparations?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Though he may not know her, nor know if she is a member of faculty, he does recognize that almost casual way she carries herself. That subtle aspect of authority that is brought with her that might be simply from the role she holds at school...
    Or might more have something to do with the subtle tell-tale hints that are there for him to perceive. Perhaps small callouses upon the knuckles. The slightly different way of stance. The faint feeling of potential danger that can be shared between two artists standing within striking distance.
    Whatever it is, however, he pays her respect by giving a nod and murmuring quietly. "Yes, ma'am. I was thinking of returning my texts and taking a leave of absence." He stops with one hand upon the locker door and turns to consider her. "I believe things are in order for that."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    It was a scheduled day for a meeting. And that meant that Sam knew that SHIELD would be coming. He even knew who they'd send, because lately that task has always fallen to Agent May. In the long run that's best for everyone involved, since the two have a mutual respectful understanding, rather than the odd feeling of barely contained contempt he seemed to get from more junior agents. Contempt or condescension... sometimes even a mixture of both. And he's not in the habit of keeping Melinda waiting, or make her run around to find him. He's always in the same spot, at the same time... which makes it unusual when he gets there, sees the car, but not the driver he was expecting. Granted, he's early, but...

    And so he wanders around, going by intuition more than any tangible clue that he'd be able to articulate, ending up in that same hallway, on the opposite end. The traipsing of Bear's paws betray him long before he comes into view, walking with a measured pace.

    He calls it the Shark Sense, when two dangerous people meet each other, and recognise one another for what they are. Now here's a third. "Agent May. Alex. ... getting a head start on the rush out the door?"

Melinda May has posed:
Hearing the tell-tale ticking of dog claws on hard floor and the jingle of a collar's tags, May is fully aware of who's approaching. And she's perfectly fine with it. She keeps her eyes and the majority of her attention on Alexander.

"So you've completed all of your finals already." No, she doesn't pose that as a question. Though really, with as deadpan as all of her words have been thus far...

She's seen this pattern of behavior before, more than once. Hell, she's lived it herself more than once. SHIELD agents suffer from self-doubt as well. "Have you already arranged for a ride home?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The locker now secured, it's closed with a faint clang as the young blond man turns and looks between the two of them. There's a casual tilt of his head as he lets a few thoughts wander and meet and resolve, then lifts his chin a little to answer his schoolmate's question after an offered greeting, "Hey Sam, yeah. Figured I'd clear out my locker."
    He lightly boots the stack of texts at his feet with the toe of his white sneaker, then smiles a little crookedly at his friend, "Gonna drop these off, go through that check out thing so they can yell at me if pages are missing or whatever."
    Then his eyes return to May as she offers that statement as to what he has done or not done about finals and he smiles a little though doesn't declare one way or the other. Instead he answers her latter question after it's asked by murmuring, "I tend to take the train," He offers as he glances to the door, then back. "But the commuter rail doesn't start up until five, so... I was going to go kill some time."
    As to how he was going to kill some time he doesn't say.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Not a bad idea to get to that early. I mean, they're already open, and there's no queue, so you'll be in and out, no sweat." For someone talking to casually, he doesn't seem to stand very casual. At the moment, it looks like Sam isn't sure how this is going to go, so he's playing it civil until a bit more clarity can be established. "Nobody's gonna mind a few doodles in the margin, but if any pages are actually missing, you might wanna make a peace offering of a box of chocolates first, that's all I'm saying."

Melinda May has posed:
As Alex closes his locker door, May takes a small step back and to the side, a small wordless gesture indicating that she has no intention of blocking his path. It could be seen as a bit silly, considering how much open space there still is in the hallway, but then it could also be acknowledgement from one warrior to another that no hostilities will begin here and now.

"Sam and I usually stop for lunch. That could help kill some time." She glances over at Sam after making the offer, mostly to tell him that's how it'll be, but also partly to make sure he's okay with it. 'Cause once they set foot outside of this school building young Mr. Morgan is HER responsibility, and if he has a problem with this, she needs to know now.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Well, I mean, I took care of them ok I guess. Only tore out a few dozen pages when we had that spitball fight." This is said with a casual dead pan and sardonic half-smirk, since really... these two perhaps never really engaged in a spitball fight. There'd have been casualties.
    "But really, shouldn't be that big of a deal." He nudges the books again and then kneels to pick the up as much as he can in one arm then getting the last two in his other.
    Then May mentions the possibility of lunch and he quirks an eyebrow, gaze slipping over toward Sam and the pup as he tilts his head, asking a silent question to see if there might be a flicker of body language indicating that Sam might not be so charitably inclined.
    Be that as it may, however, he does look to May. "I could be convinced." Though for a moment he had considered saying 'twist my arm' but with this crowd not a phrase to use.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    There had been, to the best of everyone's knowledge, no Great Spitball Massacre, nor a Battle of the Hallway. Whatever friendly rivalry these two may have indulged in, it resulted in no casualties and no appreciable property damage.

    Sam gives a minute nod to Melinda, to indicate that he's fine with a +1 on their trip today. It's not as if Alex doesn't know about him by now, that cat's out of the bag. "Honestly, it's worth the journey. Agent May knows all the best places."

Melinda May has posed:
May nods and waits for both young men to precede her through the hallways and to the administration office. She'd be stopping in here to sign Samuel out for the afternoon anyway, so it's not even an imposition.

Her own task done in the matter of a moment, she stands off to the side to wait for Alexander to finish whatever he's got to go here. She takes a moment to glance at Bear, because she's learned that the dog is an incredibly astute judge of character.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    It doesn't take too long or Alexander to go through the needed motions to provide the texts, to get them perused and a receipt signed by the attending clerk at the book store that day. So it ends perhaps ten minutes after his arrival with the blond youth returning toting that backpack over his shoulder.
    He smiles a little between them as he shifts his weight to his left foot, then casually back over to the right. "Are we walking?"
    A glance is given toward the door again then back to the Agents as he inclines his chin slightly and a small smile lights upon his features. "I'm told I shouldn't accept rides from strangers." Perhaps a small tilt is given in glance toward May, still trying to hammer down her body language, her manner. She is not an easy book to read.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Bear is, for lack of a better word, relaxed. If there is some kind of canine zen state, he has achieved it, simply content to set next to his human, giving an occasional look at the other humans around. If there's any kind of emotional distress in the area, the Shepherd isn't picking up on it. Or has decided not to signal. That dog is about as smart as his breed get.

    Smarter, perhaps, than the human he accompanies. But that's usually the mask Sam wears when he's around the school, slightly aloof and world weary, with occasional patches of distinct weirdness. The kind of weird that even bullies don't mess with. "Car should be in the usual spot, if nobody's stolen it since I saw it last. If they did, our day is about to get significantly more interesting."

Melinda May has posed:
Leading the way out to where she's parked that same SHIELD-ubiquitous SUV she always drives (so far as Sam knows, anyway), May raises an eyebrow at Alexander's words. Kid's not stupid, that much she already knew. But a bit of a smartass? Great. Like she doesn't have enough of those to deal with on a daily basis.

Stopping just inside the parking lot, she turns and offers the young man a small but polite bow clearly Asian in origin. Possibly a not-regionally-specific gesture that is least likely to confuse ignorant Westerners. "Agent Melinda May, SHIELD." Okay, now they're no longer strangers.

Bear's relaxes demeanor isn't lost on her, and perhaps partly why she doesn't scoff at Sam's words but instead offers her own hint of smartassery back at more familiar teen. "I'd like to someone try."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Usually Sam has seen Alexander's body language in that way he had in school. The casual don't care about a thing all of this is kinda goofy anyways attitude that carried him through the school year. Definitely was different than the business like tone and precision he used in the debriefing.
    But this, as he considers May, is something else entire. There's a subtle tension of curiousity in the way his hazel eyes rest upon the elder Agent, the way he considers the vehicle. Though curiously enough, it is Bear's manner that allows him to perhaps become more at ease with things.
    And then when she offers that bow he gives a nod in return though perhaps not executing a bow at the moment. As if thinking that might be best for another time or place. "Alright, I'm at your disposal." He offers as he looks between the two.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "You won't regret that." is Sam's reply, accompanied with a smile, as he opens the door to the SUV. Bear jumps in, used to this journey by now, and lets himself be strapped into the harness that was so thoughtfully supplied on the center seat, the safest place in the vehicle. That would normally be where a vulnerable asset would sit, surrounded by vehicle and agents, but Sam has always opted to take a bit more risk for the sake of keeping his furry companion safe.

    "In case you're wondering why I'm being picked up by a secretive agency..." and he belts himself into his seat after closing the door, relaxing where he sits. "... you can keep on wondering."

Melinda May has posed:
May waits for the teens to be buckled in -- knowing that Bear would be secured BEFORE Sam so she's not concerned there -- and they're off. That burger joint near the school? She doesn't even slow down. "Do either you have a preference today?" She does usually give Sam the choice of the style of food they'll be eating, but she ALWAYS chooses the restaurant. By this point, the technopath has probably been to more hidden gem restaurants than he can easily name.

After accepting the boys' votes of Indian food, she drives them into a part of town that is clearly not average white suburban. The restaurant the end up taking seats in doesn't even have the majority of its signage or menus in English. But Sam is likely more than used to this by now, and has likely even had lunch here before.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Stepping into the SUV once Sam and Bear are secured, Alexander crosses the console area and settles in one of the swivel seats, taking some few moments to familiarize himself with the interior as he looks about. But then when Sam offers that commentary about giving some insight, and then doesn't, Alexander smiles a bit.
    "I imagine it has something to do with the clandestine international intelligence agency." He rests his hands on the arms of the chair and swivels a little. "But that's just a guess."
    Once they're off he will keep a casual glance to the window and then at times look between the agents. If given a chance there might be a small pet during a suitable tie for Bear. But beyond that he lets the time and distance pass quietly.
    Once they're there, however, he rolls out of his seat and walks with them inside, taking his backpack with him for now. And when they sit he'll not bother to look at a menu, so set on what he wants to eat. "Are you going to expense this?" He asks of May idly, that same curiousity there.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    As always, Sam tends to tense up a bit when the ride begins. For a while, he's looking out the windows, checking the mirrors and making note of any other vehicles that might show up more than once. He even checks roof lines when they're visible, presumably worried about snipers. That is not the way a normal teen behaves in a car. It only abates once they get near the restaurant, which is a known safe area. Guaranteed. There is no doubt in Sam's mind that it's the reason May keeps taking him to these places... aside from the always excellent food.

    So it's a relaxed looking Sam that takes his seat at the table, glancing at the menu for a moment and gives Melinda a look that clearly indicates that he still hasn't learned the language since the last time they were here, and he'll resign himself to having her order for him. Normally not a problem in some other restaurants, and by now Agent May will have a good idea of just how multilingual the technopath actually is.

    "Come for the intrigue, stay for the food. Seriously, Agent May, I can't stress how much more enjoyable these meetings are with you at the wheel."

Melinda May has posed:
Apparently, May is accustomed to Sam's twitchiness when in the car and takes a less than truly direct route that avoids the less desirable sight lines and similar. It's like she's learned a few things about the kid. "Of course they are. Junior agents haven't had their egos properly crushed yet."

After they've settled at their table, May can't help but notice that Alexander must already know what he wants. Okay then. She turns to Sam. "Do you want the chicken tikka and naan like last time, or something different?"

As the waiter returns, she offers up her order and Sam's, though she's not speaking ANY of the languages that one would equate with India. For those that would recognize it, she's speaking Tibetan. She does hesitate, though and look at Alexander. She's already made a few guesses about the kid, but isn't going to presume things one way or the other. "Mr. Aaron, would you like for me to order for you as well?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The blond Olympian is still looking over the room thoughtfully, perhaps not entirely in a military mind about the situation, perhaps in other ways simply enjoying the decor and taking in the ambiance. But when May speaks to him he turns his head to meet her eyes.
    A tilt of his head, then he smiles and answers her with, "I'll have the same as Sam." Perhaps coming up with a third answer to the question she asks of him.
    That done he leans forward and takes up his glass of water and pushes around the ice with his straw before taking a sip and offering a smile to the server.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    It's a known restaurant, and Melinda seems to know his order by now, so Sam simply nods in affirmation. Such a well known restaurant, in fact, that Bear has his snout in a bowl of water that has been thoughtfully provided... it seems the waiters are very happy to see him. That dog sure makes friends quickly.

    "How do you find these places anyway? I've been trying to figure out if there's a pattern to the routes you take, but... "

Melinda May has posed:
"Most of them were recommended to me by a fellow agent I was partnered with ... years ago." May doesn't offer much more than that, and good luck trying to get her to say more. Her preferred hot tea arrives with the boys' drinks (and Bear's bowl of water) and she takes a few moments to savor the first sip before looking at Alexander a bit more seriously. Though... how would one tell when she's being MORE serious?

"So, is this early departure in any way related to the recent events mentioned in a SHIELD debriefing report?" She has no qualms about saying this in front of Sam because, well, he was there. Though... Alex might not yet be aware of that.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Seated opposite the two agents, Alexander lets his eyes remain on them when they speak, paying attention and listening well. When they don't he'll take a sip of his drink or unwrap the small paper binding around his napkin and cutlery, setting the small bit of debris aside.
    But when addressed he meets May's gaze levelly, expression calm and he says, "Yes, ma'am." At first it might seem like he was inclined to leave it at that as an answer. But then after a few moments of silence...
    "I don't think my mind would fully be on the work at hand, what little there is of it in the last week of classes. But also just in case there might be some sort of..." His hazel eyes lower slightly, then return to Agent May's, "Reprisal. Then best to steer clear for a time."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "It would be an extremely foolish person or group that decides to make any kind of reprisal attack while you're on school grounds, Alex." Sam remarks, unrolling his cutlery and arranging it /just so/. Everything has a place, and is placed there, a far departure from the less particular lunches in the cafeteria. "But I understand what you're going through. I felt the same after I came back from my first job. But pushing it back, trying to forget about it... it doesn't work."

    A wry smile as he reaches down to pat Bear companionably. "Believe me, I've tried that."

Melinda May has posed:
Don't ask May for coping mechanisms. She is fully aware that she's actually handling her own baggage in the worst way possible -- shoving it all into a small mental box and leaving it there. But she's also nowhere near as young as these two. They still have decades of their lives ahead of them, and they can't let this stuff ruin the chances they have now.

"I'd have to agree with Mr. Morgan. And leaving the school does not guarantee your safety or theirs. It only isolates you and makes you a more appealing target." In contrast to her slightly harsh words, she takes one of the spare cups that came with her tea and offers to pour some for Alexander. But she doesn't offer Sam any. They've probably already established his beverage preferences.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "No thank you, ma'am." The offer of tea is waved off slightly as the youth looks to May. "I understand that it's not likely just..."
    Nose crinkling slightly, Alexander smiles in Sam and May's direction, just a smidge of one that is good-natured but perhaps not allowed to have such freedom of expression. He tells them gently, "My family can often not be very wise. I'd feel crummy." There's a furrow that touches his brow, "Though. I should tell you, Sam. About Damian. I had a dream of him for some reason." The youth gets distracted at the recollection.
    "That there was something happening in the halls and he was..." For a time his eyes lower, worrying at his lip then he looks back up. "He was under duress and I threw him my sword. And that helped. But after that I woke up."
    There's a pause, "At first I dismissed it, but now with a new... understanding of things I thought it would be good to mention."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Really? That's interesting." It's a flat tone. One that establishes that the subject of Damian, no matter how well intended, is clearly off limits. "Dreams. Strange things, they are."

    A bit of tension ensues, enough to make Bear look up from his admittedly fairly loud slurping, and lay his head on Sam's lap. A friendly gesture, but one that was perhaps best achieved when his chin wasn't dripping. It has the intended effect, however, as the teen first looks at what is being splashed on his otherwise pristinely clean clothes, then looks into those eyes giving him a concerned look. What follows is a half smile, and a scritch behind the ears for a good boy.

    "Family can be intense. Believe me, again, I know. But going it alone gets you killed. Or worse, other people you care about."

Melinda May has posed:
Sam's flat tone and Bear's reaction are not lost on May, but she can already tell that trying to press him for more information would be useless. Either the young man will offer the information, or he won't. Of course, he's already very much aware of the consequences if he doesn't volunteer possibly important information. SHIELD overall would be unpleasant, but May? May would be disappointed. Visibly so.

Their food arrives, and while it seems unsurprising to May, it's truly authentic stuff. Two of the plates are identical -- the chicken tikka -- and the third could not be more different. It's not a curry, but it is rice. VIRULENTLY yellow rice. Sam might have seen her order this before.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Looking steadily at Samuel, Alexander's gaze remains level and his lip turns down a touch just at the corner. But then he reads the cold tone and he nods and says simply. "Sorry."
    The blond's eyes flit to Bear and his features slip back more to that easy-going smile held so often on Alexander's features, but then he nods in answer to Sam's letter words. The nod will have to suffice however, as he contributes no comment about the truth of those statements one way or the other.
    But then the food arrives and he straightens up, putting his napkin in his lap and taking up his utensils. A smile is given to the server and he takes up his garlic naan bread, tearing it in half and... oh that heathen. He makes little half naan tacos and starts to fill the chicken tikka into it after mixing it together. How... how American of him.
    But then he looks across the way, "So if I may ask, ma'am, what is your area of expertise?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Anything that Sam might have been about to say is lost in the sheer boggled incomprehension of the abomination that is the naan taco. What... what madness is this? Rather than make comment, he'll start eating his own tikka the proper way, studiously avoiding looking over to Alexander.

    Honestly, you think you know someone...

Melinda May has posed:
If Alexander's (deliberate or not) technique in handling his food offends May, she's good enough to not let it show. And for her, eating the biryani the 'right' way is to tear pieces off of a naan, and use them in place of the utensils. And she manages to make this look like it's perfectly tidy to eat this way. Has Samuel tried to do similar? That must have been ... interesting.

After a bite of her food, she answers Alexander of the heathen Tikka-naan-taco. "Piloting and dealing with problems that no one else can handle." From what Sam's seen of May's working style, how is he going to react to her rather bland description?

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Is he really going to... yes he does, he takes a bite right out of the top of the taco? That's not even how you eat normal tacos! But he contentedly consumes the garlic naan and chicken tikka and seems to at least entirely enjoy it as he devours it this way. After a few bites he finishes the first and proceeds to construct another as if this is the only true way to consume such food.
    "I appreciate the food and all," He says as he looks between the two, then takes a sip of water before straightening up a little in his seat. "And if this is out of concern for me or the like, I appreciate it. But I'll be fine." He rests a hand upon the table, fingernail of his index finger lightly scritching at a small tear in the fabric of the tablecloth.
    "Or is there some other reason?" He asks while looking likely more toward May than Sam.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Half a dozen comments cue up, six comments are chased out of Sam's subconscious before they have a chance to even be noted. Is he aware of Agent May's reputation? Oh yes. Does he plan on sharing any of that with their guest? Oh no. Some things are best found out either the hard way, or through first hand experience.

    For his part, he's eating the civilised way. With cutlery. It's what it's for. Granted, some people would be horrified to see him having access to a knife of any description, but then those people aren't here. And they're the kind of people that Sam is trying to avoid. There does seem to be something weighing on his mind, but for now it remains unspoken. There are guests around.

    "Never refuse a free lunch, man."

Melinda May has posed:
"I have to admit, that's not the only reason. I saw the debriefing footage." No, May has no intention of asking about the person that went unmentioned by Alexander. "How certain are you that someone is going to try and insist that you give an account of your actions?" It's a strange way to phrase the question, though the implications are obvious enough.

Maybe she's been around other complete heathens. She has yet to so much as bat an eyelash at the way Alexander is eating his food. The whole cutlery issue with Samuel was dealt with a while back. She won't take it away so long as he doesn't look like he's wanting to pick it up for any reason other than eating food.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The Olympian deity sort of gets a wry grin that's given sidelong towards Sam, and... to be fair, he does have a vibe about May. But while many people who encounter such a thing their natural instinct is to withdraw or protect or be wary, that is not the case with Alexander. For his response is curiousity, and he tends to indulge that aspect of his mentality.
    But then May speaks and he seems to focus his attention on her, gaze steady and for a brief moment his eyes follow her lips as she speaks as if reading them for whatever reason. Then he nods back as he looks to her eyes and murmurs, "With my family it's feasible there will be reprisals. From the people I wronged?" A tilt of his head is given in reflection then he murmurs, "Perhaps. But, I have no trepidation about attempts. I might be displeased if they injure people that I find interesting to me. But beyond that..." He flares a hand to the side, fingers opening as if brushing the idea to the side.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "So you're running away from the thing you're not worried about? Makes perfect sense." Exactly how Sam manages to find time to say that between bites is unclear. It requires a very precise timing, to find a moment when his mouth isn't full of food.

    He honestly feels like he has no horse in this race, whatever course it is they're even running. But Alexander is one of the few people he'd consider a friend, so there is genuine concern there.

Melinda May has posed:
May nods slowly at Alexander's explanation. She actually fully agrees with Samuel's snarky comment, but she can already tell that that wouldn't sway the Olympian's decision at all. "Then which would be preferable to you? Retreating to a location remote enough to prevent the possibility of collateral damage when the reprisals start, and not knowing how long you'd be removed from everyone and everything you regard fondly? Or trusting that there are people who are willing to stand with you against whatever your family chooses to throw your way and giving those people the chance to do so?"

Samuel's concern has not gone unnoticed. That's probably why May's broaching this subject at all, really. Oh, and Phobos? You've just been Agent Momed.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    That comment from Samuel actually draws forth from Alexander an entirely age appropriate rolling of the eyes. But his smile is wry as he replies with the uncurling of his other hand, his half-eaten naan taco left for now upon his plate though settled nice and in the saucy chicken bits. "I make judgment calls for better courses of action. I have no worry about myself, I think perhaps things might happen if I'm around people. And is it out of some fear or concern for them that I might be taking this course of action?"
    His eye scrunches up as he considers, "No? I know what sort of hassle I'd have to deal with and repercussions from it. I feel a vague sense of... protectiveness I suppose you could say for people that interest me, but that's more from a sort of feeling of ownership and how dare someone threaten them. It's a sign of disrespect."
    Then he seems to recall perhaps the perfect example, "You remember Lake back at school," He points at Sam, "Don't actually like her much. But, she was still 'our' local school innocent gal. Alton's jerkiness was an insult to us."
    There, perfectly reasonable.
    But then he looks to May. "I'm not going into hiding. I'm changing my point of interest to perhaps ESU and I might nose around at some of the locals in the area that have some insight into what's going on."
    He then looks between the two of them, "Now. I think I can understand what you all are doing, saying, the sentiment. And that's kind of you."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "True. We plotted to punch Alton for the disrespect. He gave us his word, man." Sam agrees, in an exchange which may mean less than nothing to Melinda, but which clearly carries some weight between the two teens. But that might be as far as he's willing to be drawn into the reasoning.

    "I know what you're talking about. This is your bubble, right? Your people, you're comfortable around them, and that doesn't happen a lot. So when someone threatens to mess with that, it just makes the blood boil. That's your bubble, how dare they. But it's deeper than that, because thinking that way is pure hubris."

    With skilled motions, Sam scrapes the side of his knife against the side of his fork, adroitly depositing rice and bits of chicken, and watching the resulting future mouthful with seeming interest. "When people are after you, you go after them first. Pull it up, root and branch, until there's nobody left stupid enough to even think of coming for you or yours. Otherwise, you spend your life chasing bubbles."

    Nom.

    Tikka philosopher.

Melinda May has posed:
This time, and only this time, May is willing to stop prodding Alexander. Because she knows only too well about the sentiment behind 'don't touch my stuff'. Stuff can totally include people. Chosen family, if it gets to that point.

Wiping her hands off on a napkin, she reaches into her jacket -- the garment seems to be a bit stiffer than most average leather jackets and also, it's nearly June? -- and brandishes a business card. It's simple white card stock, and only a phone number is on it. No other identifying marks. She offers the card to Alexander.

"I think you should splurge for an Uber to get home today. It's still hours until the commuter trains start running."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Well," Alexander takes up his taco, "Hubris is only hubris if it's unwarranted." The smile is there, but he takes a deep breath. "Though I understand your desire for action along those lines."
    Another bite from the naanwich and he chews for a time, chewing, chewing, then he swallows and adds. "I could see that being a good option, though one of the reasons my father and I have gotten along with..." A pause as he looks to May and says, "Your agency, is because we agreed to not go too out there with our efforts. To keep a low profile to a degree."
    Another beat is taken as he looks across the table, eyes distancing in thought as he murmurs, "If my father pursued everyone he had a beef with then..." He shakes his head and makes a small face. "Well it'd be a full time job, and I think your agency would be much less tolerant of our presence."
    Then he takes the card and looks at it briefly, before pocketing it as if such happened to him often. The card is settled in a front jean pocket and then he looks toward Agent May, eye steady. "Thank you."
    Then he takes a sip of water as he considers her. "Am I being dismissed?" And to his credit, he seems ready to go.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    A side glance is all Alexander gets for a moment, before Sam is ready to add his final piece to the conversation. "Any warrior that stands alone falls eventually." And some invitations aren't engraved. As it turns out, they're printed, on simple white card stock...

Melinda May has posed:
"No. But I get the impression that you'd refuse if I offered you a lift home, so that's my mental compromise. Sam and I have," May glances toward an old analog wall clock across the way, then continues, "about twenty more minutes before we have to get back on the road."

She considers her plate, but she's pretty much done. Sorry, Bear, none for your this time. The chicken was cooked with onions. "Did either of you want any dessert?" She doesn't usually indulge herself, but they're teens -- or they look like they are -- and from her limited experience, teenagers are eating machines.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A quick look between the two of them and then Alex says with a smile, "Sure. Gulab Jamun?" And with that Alexander settles better into his seat all the more, taking a sip of water and smiling to either of the.