477/PTSD and the Art of Van Maintenance
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| PTSD and the Art of Van Maintenance | |
|---|---|
| Date of Scene: | 13 March 2020 |
| Location: | Shop Classroom - Happy Harbor High School |
| Synopsis: | Colette goes to check on Samuel after his emotional exit from class. They exchange frank views in very veiled language. |
| Cast of Characters: | Samuel Morgan, Colette O'Connail
|
- Samuel Morgan has posed:
It's late afternoon in Happy Harbor, and practically nobody under the age of twenty who doesn't absolutely have to be in the school is still present. As usual, however, this very specifically doesn't include one student who tends to show up at the strangest of times, disappear for over 36 hours and leave at seemingly random intervals with seemingly no comment from the senior staff. He'd even offered to 'look at' the van of the new IT teacher, and after that there was really no stopping him.
That was two weeks ago.
Now, the van sits in the bay of the shop class, almost entirely re-assembled after having been stripped nearly to the last bolt. The engine hoist has been rolled over and chains run out of the van's engine bay. The clicking of a ratchet wrench competes with AC/DC's 'Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap', blaring from... ehmm... three silver balls the size of marbles, laying next to what appears to be a very generic phone, projecting a hologram of the music's sound waves between them. The owner of this technology is half hidden under the van, just boots and coverall clad legs visible, while a German Shepherd dozes not too far away, wearing a pair of mutt muffs.
Another object stands in the corner, covered by a tarp, roughly the size of an average sized human. Clearly, this is not your average school shop...
- Colette O'Connail has posed:
As a TA, it's not really Colette's job to go chasing after students who have been acting like they just returned from a particularly gruelling tour of duty. Nope, just report the incident and get on with your day. Colette is not exactly a believer in sticking to the regulations though, so she has been keeping an eye out for Sam. Not that he's the only student from that study group she'd wanted to check up on, for one reason or another.
Finding Sam had proven a little harder than might be expected, given that he has scheduled lessons and wanders around with a dog. Clearly Sam is not a great believer in schedules. Well, that's no particular surprise - this is certainly a weird school, and there are clearly a number of students who are here for reasons other than academic attaiment. However after a little asking around, Colette has finally discovered that Sam has been spending a lot of time in shop, and the word is that he's there right now. She puts her head around the door to confirm - the sight of a snoozing Bear gives Sam away, even if his legs aren't that distinctive.
Colette walks into the shop room and sits herself on a workbench, watching in silence for a few moments. When she finally decides to announce her presence, she does so by hitting pause on the phone and saying "Don't bash your head."
- Samuel Morgan has posed:
It's the strangest thing... Bear notices Colette enter, recognises her as a friendly human, and then goes back to snoozing after no more than a perk of his ears in her direction. There is no indication that Sam has seen or heard anyone. But when the music is paused... well...
... It isn't. The phone seems to respond for a moment, and then resumes playing. The wrench continues its work for a moment, and then Sam slides out from under the van, rolling the dolly nearer to Colette. Only when he has seen her does the music first fade and then stop entirely.
"Yes?" It's about as short a greeting as can still be shoe-horned into the 'polite' bracket, but the mutant sits up after a few moments and starts to wipe his hands on a rag. "Can I help you?"
- Colette O'Connail has posed:
"Well I did lose a side mirror the other day, but I took it to the garage already," Colette says with a grin. "So I'm going to say no." She glances down at the phone curiously, then back up at Sam. "I was thinking more the other way around. You did run out of class the other day, it seemed like the responsible thing to do come and check on you. Anything you'd like to talk about?"
Colette holds a finger up to forestall any immediate reply. "And I mean /like to/. I'm not here demanding any answers. This is totally up to you. And nor is this some kind of official call. Nothing you say goes any further than this room. I'm not /exactly/ a teacher, you know. That gives me a certain degree of leeway."
There's a slight tilt of the head, and a glance towards Bear. "On the other hand, you might not want to talk to a stranger. Or possibly to anyone. I found the things you said during our study group very interesting, Sam. And somewhat concerning."
- Samuel Morgan has posed:
"That explains a few things." It's perhaps a curious answer, but Sam offers no further explanation for a moment, instead standing and putting the wrench away. Puts it away /exactly/ where he found it, so it lines up with the cutout marked on the wall board. Very tidy with his tools... His next stop appears to be the engine bay, leaning over to start to loosen the chains around the engine. "Most teachers are somewhat aware of my situation. But if you want all the details, you'll have to talk to Doctor MacIntyre, she's the only one with the full file. Or mostly full, I'd imagine."
One chain loose, he turns, leaning against the side of the van and looking at Colette again. "You've probably guessed why Bear never leaves my side. If you're here about what I said during the discussion, I'm going to assume you're referring to the last ten minutes of it. But if you want to talk about something more specific, you'll have to be more specific. I'll be as open as I can."
- Colette O'Connail has posed:
"I've got no interest in asking Doctor MacIntyre," Colette replies with a shake of her head. "Let me be clear; this is not official. I'm only interested in hearing what /you/ want to tell me. If that's nothing, that's fine with me. I'm offering you an opportunity, not an interrogation, or counselling. I have seen trauma up close before and I know what it looks like, Sam. There may be things you'd like to talk about, but you feel that nobody could possibly understand, or that anyone who you talked to would judge you, or make records of things you don't want recorded. I won't judge, and I won't tell. And you'd be surprised what I might understand."
There's a half shrug. "Just keep it in mind. I'm not expecting you to want to say anything today. I just wanted the chance to tell you that. So you were wondering about Soviet super-teams. Did you find out about that?" The change in topics is sudden and slightly jarring, but then he did ask for specifics.
"I believe there were," Colette continues. "But I haven't really studied the history of it all. However I did meet a Russian meta recently. It seems that in the post-Soviet era, they like to give their metas military training. Personally I'm unconvinced that is a wise approach. For all your emphasis on the importance of giving potential capes an appropriate education, military training is generally... rather regimented. Pun intended."
- Samuel Morgan has posed:
"There were several. Some I can name and enumerate for you. I rarely ask questions I don't already know the answers to during a discussion." And with that, Sam turns back to the chains around the engine. Almost symbolic... Bear gives Colette a look that's nearly apologetic, as if feeling responsible for the brusqueness of his human.
"I'll give you the Cliff's notes version." Clink, one more chain loosened, and the teenager pulls both of the chains through the eyebolts, coiling them up with an ease that betrays a level of strength that might not be common at his age, but also not indicating anything superhuman. "I'm a mutant. That wasn't supposed to be the case. That, as far as I can tell, was caused by alien intervention. Everything else about me, down to the color of my eyes, was genetically engineered to ... to perfection. To a certain ideal standard that hasn't been in vogue since the mid forties of the last century. An organisation of dogmatic criminals raised me to be their weapon. The person who masqueraded as my father for my early childhood grew a conscience and wanted to help me leave that group. I got out, he did not."
The chains are returned, tossed to the ground with a casual ease. Then Sam turns back to face Colette, his eyes glowing an unnatural blue. "Between that creation and my liberation... a lot of blood, death and violence."
- Colette O'Connail has posed:
"Ah, the Aryan ideal." Colette smiles faintly. She doesn't seem to be particularly shocked by the revelation. "Not a standard I could aspire to," she adds witha grin. Her eyes meet his, coal-black as if iris and pupil were undifferentiated. She grins a bit. "I have to admit, I bleach my hair."
"As for dogma..." Colette glances down at Bear, and back up again. "Unlike dog-Bear, dogma is not the goodest of boys, in my opinion. Dogma is the enemy of reason. You talked about educating those with power and skill, to become the best hero they could. I liked that a lot, Sam. It does seem that we're missing a trick, doesn't it? I think a lot of people would disagree with us though. Here in america we are very prone to idolising heroes of every sort. Suggesting that they need to be educated and even reviewed by seem heretical, if not downright unpatriotic, by many."
Colette leans back, hands flat agains the worktop, giving her arms a stretch. "And who's to say they are wrong? If that education is dogmatic - or militaristic - then you get tools, not heroes. The teachers can watch the watchmen, Sam. But then who watches the teachers?"
- Samuel Morgan has posed:
"You watch yourself. The price of freedom is eternal vigilance." The glow in Sam's eyes dies down, leaving only his naturally blue pupil. "As for teaching heroes... get Captain America to write the outline and you won't go far wrong. Anyone who opposed the people who raised me is bound to have better answers than a former teenage assassin." There, it's out in the open now. Why he's so terse, why he's nearly constantly in a state of hyper vigilance, and why he almost certainly suffers from PTSD. Another chain gets loosened.
"In fact, start off by making heroes swear an oath to do no harm, and uphold justice to the best of their ability. Anyone who doesn't want to swear an oath like that is suspect. Mind you, occasionally you need people like me to do things heroes can't or won't. People like the Punisher, or Daredevil. Or the Batman. Any rate, that's the short version of my story. You don't have to admit to yours if you don't want to."
- Colette O'Connail has posed:
"Me? My story is that I want to teach, Sam. That's why I'm here." Colette waves a hand vaguely, brushing away the question. Or did she? She smiles faintly to herself. "Funny, isn't it, having a discussion like this here. I mean look around. The facilities here, the resources that have gone into it. Can you imagine a better school to be training the next generation of heroes? Alas, the power-that-be have different ideas. If I was as rich as Tony Stark..."
Colette's focus returns to Sam. "Your solutions seem quite pragmatic. Certainly, Captain America has a good claim for best available option. And opposing Nazis does seem like a good baseline. However if you accept that there is sometimes a need for people who are willing to do things that the heroes can't, aren't you admitting that the system you just proposed for heroes just isn't up to the task?"
Colette slips down of the workbench, and approaches bear, crouching down and offering him her hand to sniff. "In an ideal world, you have a set of rules that suit every situation, not just some. I don't think Captain America has enough experience for that. Alas, nobody does. Hippocrates didn't have all the answers either, and we still haven't got all the answers to questions of medical ethics. It'll be a generational process, Sam. And nobody is even seriously considering generation two yet. My opinion? The teachers watch the watchmen, and the watchmen watch the teachers. No one person or class of people should be making all the decisions. Given enough time, positive feedback solves any solvable problem."
- Samuel Morgan has posed:
"I understand if you don't want to talk about it." The last chain comes free, and Sam does to it what he has done with the others, coiling it around his forearm until he can put it away. Bear yawns and sits up, first sniffing the hand and then quite unashamedly rubbing the side of his head against it.
"As you said, I'm pragmatic. And I'm very willing to argue regulation and oath taking, training and registration. At the same time, I'll happily argue deregulation and the existence of a group of people outside of oversight to deal with that which the official body can't deal with. That doesn't make me inconsistent, only a hypocrite. Besides, it's only for a school essay. Nobody is expecting a high school student to provide the answer to decades of rapid genetic evolution and a resurgence of quasi-supernatural abilities."
"But..." and here Sam seems to respond to the comment about Happy Harbor not being a school for heroes, leaning against the van and watching Colette with a smile "... as you say, you're not a teacher. So you should probably stop fishing about what I know about the school. Or where I go when I'm not here."
- Colette O'Connail has posed:
"Really, Sam. 'Only for a school essay'?" Colette gives Bear pets and ear scritches. "I'm sorry to tell you that I consider school essays very important, and I have high expectations of you and your essays. I will be marking accordingly. I did tell you I am serious about education. I intend for the students here to be the best... at whatever they do. And if that includes certain activities which... let's say for example I don't exactly trust myself to do, all for the better. After all, progress means each generation being better than the last, doesn't it?"
Colette gives Bear a chuck under the chin, a scruff on the top of his head, and a "Good boy," before standing, dusting her hands off and looking back at Sam. "I'm not fishing for anything. I know what I need to about the school, and what I consider to be its failings and limitations. Anything I don't yet know I'd prefer to find out myself than have my judgement colored by the opinions of others. As for where you go when you're not here, I haven't decided whether that's something I should be interested in or not yet. " She flashes him a broad grin. "And by the way, I'd call that /you/ fishing. I trust you won't be so occupied with van repairs that your essay will be delayed?"
- Samuel Morgan has posed:
"Oh, this is just to... clear my head." Another smile, and Sam picks up a tool that has been incongruously discarded nearby. He looks at it for a moment, shrugs and walks over to the corner. Where the thing under the tarp stands. "And didn't I say that I don't ask questions often that I don't already know the answers to?"
The tarp is pulled off. There, in a cradle, stands what looks for all the world like an exoskeleton... no, a combat suit, missing most of its plating, with wiring snaking out of joints and distributor boxes. The teenager nonchalantly puts the tool back on the rack behind the half finished suit, and then puts the tarp back over.
"Sorry, where were we?"
Bear rolls his eyes at such theatrics, leaning his head further into that petting hand.
- Colette O'Connail has posed:
Colette can't quite refrain from rolling her eyes either; she and Bear share a moment.
"Maybe you should start then Sam. Samuel Alexander Morgan. Clever name. The one thing you can guarantee is that there's more that you don't know than you know you don't know. Asking a lot of questions doesn't mean you're dumb, it means you get more answers. Some of them might even be right."
She walks over to the door, apparently showing no interest in the suit of power armor whatsoever. She certainly saw it, though. She stops, one hand on the doorframe, and looks back. "Yesterday, I met a man who I didn't kill. It wasn't easy. The world would have been so much... /cleaner/ without him in it. Where were we? You were promising me that you'd have your essay in on time. Don't stay up all night working in the shop, Sam."
There's a last smile. "I'm sure I'll be talking with you again soon, Sam."
- Samuel Morgan has posed:
"The world is full of surprises isn't it?" Sam smiles, arms crossed and standing as if he might come straight off a recruitment poster for future super heroes. "You'll have my essay on time. Look forward to our next talk."
