971/The Other Side of the Coin

The Other Side of the Coin
Date of Scene:	04 April 2020
Location:	Computer Lab - Happy Harbor High School
Synopsis:	Colette pokes the bear, but not the Bear.
Cast of Characters:	Samuel Morgan, Colette O'Connail

---

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Friday is the day that most people strive for. The end of the week, the end of either classes or work, and the start of two whole days of freedom and relaxation. Students have streamed through the gates in their hundreds, each undoubtedly looking forward to the wonderful weather to come. At least one student hasn't left the school grounds yet, and it's a student that seems to come and go on their own schedule, and still never seems to cause any trouble or disruption.

    This evening, with the rest of the library almost entirely deserted, Sam has installed himself in the computer lab, choosing the seat in the exact center of all the available spaces. His eyes are glowing a bright blue, and every laptop is churning out at full fan speed, raising the temperature in the room by quite a few degrees. Bear doesn't seem to care, laying seemingly lazily on his side next to his human's chair, ignoring the humming of the fans and the rapid clicking of keys while Sam works. So much to do...

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    No rest for the wicked.

    Does the epithet apply to Sam? Possibly. Colette? Equally likely. Both clearly have too many plans to be looking forwards to a weekend of freedom and relaxation, anyway.

    "Hey Bear. Keeping your human out of trouble? A Sisyphean task, I know." The voice comes from the door of the lab, and is soon followed by the insufferable Colette, as Damian knows her. She glances around at the busy screens, then grabs a chair, pulls it out into a little patch of space not too far and not too near Sam, and takes a seat. "Hi Sam, doing well? I see you have the room to yourself. Handy. Try not to make the school's entire supply of computers overheat, though. Have you considered renting cloud processing? It's not expensive, and if you've got a lot of number crunching to do, that would probably be rather more efficient. And somewhat less conspicuous."

    Colette smiles faintly, and winks at Bear. "Did you two enjoy spring break?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Please don't teach my dog about Sisyphus, he'll demand more treats." Sam retorts without even looking around. Either he knew Colette was coming, expected her to show up at some point today, or has somehow gained access to the library cameras and had been monitoring them while working. All of those are equally likely at this point.

    On the screen, on his screen alone, a physics analysis is running, using raw CPU power from the nearby systems to boost the calculations in absence of a sufficiently powerful acceleration card. The image isn't terribly hard to recognise. It's a miniature reactor, glowing red rather than blue, but otherwise mostly identical to one a certain superhero carries around. "Spring break was great. Lots of exercise, lots of fresh air, a chance to study divergent computer design, time well spent."

    Half turning in his seat, the teenager looks at Colette with those glowing blue eyes, giving her his usual smile. "And I prefer to keep my calculations a secret rather than have them transmitted to me via another network. In case you hadn't noticed, at the moment, this /is/ a cloud."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "A very /small/ cloud," Colette counters. "And not particularly compute-optimized. I can understand why you might worry about using someone else's network, of course. Though with a little ingenuity maybe you could obfusticate the calculations sufficiently to avoid any automated processes identifying what you're doing. Or at least you could get your hands on some systems with better GPUs than these have."

    Colette takes a moment to look at Bear, her head tilted curiously. "Bear, I think your human is questioning the depths of your classical education. What does a dog do to garner respect, hmm? Maybe you should bark at him in Achaean Doric." She gives the dog a wink before turning back to Sam.

    "You and Damian cut quite the figures at the prom. I'm glad that the type of dancing the pair of you have decided upon. Two people like the pair of you in a small space... well, there was always a danger you'd see each other in less friendly terms. I hope the pair of you are getting on well? I feel Damian could do with a positive influence in his life. Someone who understands him."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "It's hard to understand what you don't know. Even harder to love what you don't understand. Damian and I, we understand each other, and a tango seemed entirely appropriate given the choice of music." Sam turns back to his work, tapping his leg to summon Bear to his side. The Shepherd gives Colette a happy grin and then does as asked, sitting next to his human and leaning against his legs, earning a petting hand in return.

    "And the word you're looking for is 'obfuscate'. I had to suffer the use of the term 'Sciencey' earlier this week, please don't exacerbate matters." It seems, then, that Sam is having a bad day. Or at least, isn't very much in the mood to be interrupted.

    "Can I help you with anything? A thesaurus, perhaps?"

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette's faint smile spreads slowly into a grin almost as wide as Bear's. "Well I have to admit I'm not a very sciencey person, Sam. If I was, maybe I could push you in the direction of energy generation from vacuum state fluctuation. Apparently virtual antiparticles are a thing that gets sciencey people from other, more advanced worlds excited." She waves her hand dismissively. "It's all quite beyond me, though."

    "Let's see, something you can help me with. Actually there might be, one moment..." She pulls out her phone and starts looking through it as she talks. "A tango of assassins. There's a thing. Well you're right, I certainly don't understand him. He has some odd little blind spots. For someone as smart as he is, he seems to have a little difficulty counting above one. Having a friend to spend time with will no doubt do him some considerable good. It would be a real shame to see all that potential go to waste. Ah, here we are."

    Colette leans forwards, showing her phone to Sam. On the screen is a video clip of Sam, carrying Bear, jumping from car roof to car roof. It's rather blurry, undoubtedly cropped from a larger frame and not the best resolution. As far as identifying Sam in the picture, it certainly wouldn't hold up in court. "Maybe you could offer me your expertise and tell me if you notice anything unusual about this little bit of footage I found."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "If you're talking zero point energy generation, as soon as such antiparticles can be more than just a theory, I'll get right on that." Tssk. Honestly, the things some people come up with. When Sam turns in his seat again, it's with every expectation to see some inane short movie, or perhaps even a clip of himself and Damian dancing set to different music. Instead, what he sees, is blackmail.

    The computers shut down. The lights switch themselves off. There is a soft whine from Bear as he picks up an emotion from his human that he really, really doesn't like. The only illumination left in the computer lab is the screen of the phone, and the rapidly intensifying blue glow of Sam's eyes.

    "I believe you may have made a mistake."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Really Sam, so dramatic." The light from the screen goes off too. There's the faintest of sounds, and Colette's voice continues from a corner of the room. "There wasn't any need to stop your calculations for my benefit." Even Sam's heightened awareness of sound, honed by years of combat training, picked up no evidence of her crossing the distance.

    "I'm pretty sure I told you before that your secrets are safe with me, Sam. I just wanted to confirm something I've suspected for a while."

    Colette's voice moves again, to the opposite side of the room. "Actually a friend of yours confirmed it for me. If it's meant to be secret, you shouldn't leave your contact details on people's phones without any visible means to have done so. Hawkeye two-point-oh is a pretty smart operator, but that did bother her a little.

    The voice moves back to the first corner. "Now how about you stop worrying Bear, and we continue this conversation in a civilized way? You're welcome to keep the lights off if you like, I'm very comfortable in the dark."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    The voice... it... moved? The rate of change was impossible, like an echo that was created to distract. His eyes scan the room, but he doesn't need his eyes to locate Colette. But let her go on guessing about that one for a while. "Bear, hide." On command, the Shepherd scarpers to a corner of the room and lays down flat, paws over his eyes and whining softly.

    "Two point oh? That would be the new Hawkeye. Good girl, needs some training. But I presented myself as an accomplished hacker. She wouldn't have figured that out by herself. So you lie." Sam's fingers reach into a pocket and come back up. It's a small motion, but whatever he has in his hand, he's keeping cupped inside his palm, reacting when the source of the voice changes again.

    "You know, this reminds me of a training exercise they made me go through. Multiple attackers, a darkened room, taunts from the darkness through voice modulators so you can't tell which attacker is which. You? You never moved. You appeared." The glow in his eyes dims, leaving nothing but total, complete and utter darkness. "If you wanted civilised... You should have made me write an essay!"

    Abruptly, the assassin moves, turning to face Colette, having found her position unerringly even in the pitch darkness. He surges forwards... and tosses the thing he was holding behind him with surprising force. The flashbang sails to the opposite corner, which is where Sam is expecting her to appear to get out of his way.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette doesn't need to track positions, she knows exactly where Sam is. Not just where he is, but what he's doing. She sees him reach into his pocket, sees him pull something out. "Really, Sam?" she mutters quietly.

    Colette extends a hand forwards, and the darkness between herself and Sam thickens into a solid wall between them. It's intended to block whatever it is she assumes he's going to attack her with, but if he moves too far forwards, he'll run into it.

    "Careful Sam, don't hurt yourself. Or Bear. That would make me very unhappy."

    The sound of the flashbang is painful in the confined space of the room, and the flash perhaps gives Sam enough momentary light to see he's about to run into something black if he's fast.

     "Jesus! Fuck Sam, not on school property. Stand down!"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "WHO SENT YOU?!" It's a challenge that is roared rather than simply spoken, as Sam barrels straight into the darkness. Darkness is normally his friend. Not today.

    As the room lights up brightly, and the loud report of the small explosive echoes around the room again and again, the teenaged assassin run directly into what feels very much like a solid wall, and bounces off, recoiling back into a desk. There's no recovering his balance, and he goes over the desk backwards, rolling over the top and disappearing between the chairs.

    Not in a tangle of limbs, as might be expected. That roll was under complete control.

    There is the *snikt* of a blade being deployed.

    Bear pushes open the exit door and runs, undoubtedly to go get help.

    "Have to admit, didn't think it would be you. Thought it would be Damian for a while, but... he had the opportunity several times. Never took it. You? You lied to me from day one." When he stands, he has a small stiletto in his hand, held in a professional reverse grip. "Remember? No business on school property? That was my line. You will answer my questions. They will determine if you get to live."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "It was your line. I suggest you follow it," Colette says levelly. "Nobody sent me. I have never lied to you, Sam. Only withheld a few truths. Nice stance, by the way. Very professional. Your balance is on point."

    The message is clear; she's letting him know that she has no trouble seeing what he is doing in the darkness.

    "Now I suggest you calm down, and ask your questions. I may answer them, but threats aren't going to help you." Colette smiles a little, but even with a little light coming through the exit door, it's probably lost in the dark. "If I really wanted to cause you trouble, I'd probably just tell Captain Marvel all the things I've learned about you already and let her deal with the problem, but I can just see the look on her face if I did that. I'd get the sad-eyes look. I've caused her enough trouble already. Besides, I was rather hoping to encourage you to keep your secrets a little better, rather than spread them around myself."

    There's a sound of footsteps, and in the dim light coming through the exit door, Sam can make out the shape of Colette moving, putting a little space between them, but walking casually. "You might want to consider fetching Bear back before he gets anyone worrying. You'd have more questions to answer than me, here."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    The light comes back on. Slowly. And in that slowly increasing illumination, even if it could be seen before, it's hard not to notice that Sam is smiling. It's not a particularly friendly smile... it's the upturn of the mouth that is usually employed by someone who just realises that the person they're talking to doesn't have all the facts. Not by a long shot.

    Not that Sam relaxes the grip on his weapon. He turns as Colette walks, always keeping her directly in front of him.

    "Captain Marvel? You mean Agent Danvers? Trust me, she knows. Has known for a long time. Think about it for two minutes, who do you think she works for? Who do you think put me here in the first place. If you haven't figured that out by now, you're not half as clever as you think you are."

    There is a complicated whistle. The next moment, Sam stands fully upright, the knife disappearing from his hand as if by magic, but the keen eye might see the complicated prestidigitation required to put it away without cutting himself, with the equal promise that it can re-appear at a moment's notice. The next to appear is Bear, who comes barreling into the room and jumps into Sam's arms, trembling, licking all over the teen's face.

    It's hard to keep up the pose of hardened killer with so much friendly canine held in your arms.

    "You know what the problem is, Miss O'Connail? You assumed you knew things about me that you really didn't. You jumped to the wrong conclusion from a standing start. And this is where you stop omitting truths, if you have any hope of salvaging this situation and, I would assume, your employment."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Does she know that you're making a suit of powered armor in the school workshop? That you're being quite as free and easy with your secrets as you have been? Think about it for two /seconds/ and ask yourself why I mentioned that particular name, Sam."

    Colette moves to a table, sitting casually on the edge of it, but feet kept on the ground. She folds one arm across her torso, resting the other elbow on her hand, and her chin on her fist. "Let's talk about assumptions, and jumping to the wrong conclusions. Shall we take a score?"

    Colette's hand moves forwards, and she starts unfolding fingers as she counts.

    "One. That I made any assumptions about you. I didn't. I was learning, because you interest me. I /don't/ know you, and I /don't/ assume I do. That's why I've been trying to find out."

    "Two. That I'm a threat to you. I told you right at the start that I was offering help, without strings. I have no intention of hurting you in any way, unless you force me to."

    "Three. That I work for someone else. Really, Sam. Just because your world is filled with spies, criminal organizations and letter agencies doesn't mean everyone else's world is."

    "Four, that there is a chance in hell that I'm going to stop omitting truths. I know too many things that need to be kept secret. That includes a few things I've learned about you, which I will not share with anyone else without your permission."

    "Five. That I was lying about the Hawkeye thing. You told me already that you're a mutant. That footage of you jumping from car to car? I filmed that myself. Pure coincidence I happened to be there. When I visited you in the lab, something weird happened with your phone when I switched the music off. She just gave me the last piece of the puzzle."

    "I've run out of fingers. I guess that makes it your turn. You want to ask some questions? Ask."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "You're still deflecting." Sam mentions casually as he sits down, keeping Bear on his lap, and one arm around the Shepherd which is rapidly calming down and going back to his usual amiable self. "For the record, Bear carries a panic button that either he or I can press, and no more than three minutes after that some people with no sense of humor will appear. Necessary inconvenience, when there's a few million dollars reward on your head."

    Almost casually, he looks over his shoulder at his laptop, nods at something, and returns his focus back to Colette. "I'm going to ask you once, politely, to delete that footage. You know me well enough to know that I can delete it for you. This is a courtesy." A hand pets Bear behind the ears, and the teenager retains his smile. His eyes are not smiling along.

    "What is it you actually want? You always drop veiled threats, you always talk about how we get things wrong about you, about how we can't possibly guess at your motives. And I'm fucking sick of it. Tell me, right here and now, what it is you want from me. Never threaten me again, even indirectly, and don't say that you never have. If you as much as begin constructing a defense based on that single premise, I'm walking out of this school and you will not see me again."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette pulls her phone out of her pocket, calls up the video, and turns the screen to Sam as she hits delete. "Of course I have a backup, but I'll delete that tonight. Happily, it has served its purpose for me and I have no more use for it. I meant what I said, your secrets are completely safe with me."

    "The rest..." Colette sighs a little and puts her phone away again. "That's a little tricky, because essentially I'm going to be repeating myself, but you have a hard time believing it. You can't guess at my motives, because I already /told/ you my motives. Any time you attempt to guess anything different is, quite simply, not going to give you the correct answers."

    "So. The truth." Colette stands straight, and stretches. "I don't want anything from you. That's the simple truth. I do want this world to go on the right course, though. The course that means it has a chance of surving the next few centuries, and that might, just /might/, be something you can contribute towards. The universe is becoming aware of this planet. We have been visited quite a few times lately, and not always in a friendly fashion. The only reason the planet has survived so far is because we are an anomaly. We are /primitives/ compared to the powers that are out there, Sam. A lost tribe shaking our spears at the passing aircraft carriers. The only reason we survived this last /decade/ is because there are an unusual number of unusual people here. Avengers, Justice League, so on. That gives us breathing room, but only if it lasts."

    Colette sits back down, the same half-lean, half seated posture on the edge of a table. "The problem is that we have a lot of individuals who team up when they think it's necessary, but they are still individuals first. That's great for today, but not so great for tomorrow. There need to be people out there doing that shit as groups, and as groups first. Not answering to governments, because we are political primitives too, driven by internal struggles when the external ones are so much bigger. Answering to each other, answering to the public good. Learning from each other how this shit should /actually/ be done. And nobody seems to get that."

    Colette gives a slightly sad smile. "So that's what my motives are. To try to see if there's something I can do to push people together, people without too much of a burden of dogma, who are young and eager and capable, who will figure all this crap out for themselves and start to establish a tradition that might help this planet actually /have/ a future.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "So you're either a time traveler, an alien visitor or some kind of very driven idealistic zealot bent on changing the world in your image." Sam concludes, shaking his head slowly, lowering Bear down to the ground. "To be honest, not sure which one is worse. But here's my advice."

    The teenager stands and heads back to the desk he sat at before, unplugging the external drive from the laptop he'd borrowed. "When you approach professionals, especially decommissioned professionals with some kind of cloak and dagger nonsense, they're going to react poorly. You always have this 'I know your secrets but I'll keep them, honest' things going on. Not the kind of tack you want to be taking with either me or Damian. We don't trust people. We certainly don't trust people to keep their word, and the worst of all is the knowledge that some of those secrets we keep have now slipped beyond our very tight control. I'm still honestly not sure if eliminating you isn't the easier option in the long run." He looks over to Colette, his expression utterly serious. He was /not/ joking about that.

    Taking his jacket from the back of the chair, stowing the drive and picking up his backpack, he gives his final thoughts. "If you want my help, coming up to me and saying 'I need your help to save this world because in my timeline it's all gone to shit with the teams that exist now' is probably the better option. That, at least, I could believe. No obfuscation, no grading, no slow feeling who might be worthy, or driven, or somehow fits within your parameters of someone you want saving the world. The world gets the heroes it deserves, not the heroes it wants. Me, I plan on being one of those heroes. And if a team forms around those efforts, awesome. If it doesn't, so be it. I'm not auditioning, I'm not going to join a list of hopefuls, I'm sure as fuck not going to go through some kind of application process and probation period. If I'm in a team, I'll lead it, as I have in the past."

    And so he walks towards the door, not looking back. "Until a better leader comes along, because a good leader knows when the step aside. I will see you on Monday, Miss O'Connail. Think about what I said."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
"Maybe a little of all three," Colette says with a short laugh. "And if you didn't want me to know your secrets, you should be more careful with them. You're the one who pulled the cloth off the power suit, not me. I've been warning you to reign that in, if you recall."

    "I'll give you credit for your attitude though, Sam." Colette stands straight again, but doesn't move. She's obviously giving Sam space to leave on his own. "At least you're willing to consider the other candidates for the role. That's what a team is about, after all. Damian decided he was going to lead the Titans without having actually met them. Maybe one day, one of you will. That's not down to me though, it's not like I'm recruiting or auditoning. I told you, I'm just trying to push people together."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Maybe I should just go ask the Titans if they'd consider it then. Make it their choice, rather than yours."

    And Sam is out the door, heading... well, who knows where. There's things he needs to talk about with a certain someone, and then there are people that they're going to have to meet. On their terms.