Owner	Pose
Richard Stadler	"So, the muscles contract, and that creates mechanical force, and the tendons send that mechanical force to the skeletal system. The rest is generally physics, which I know some of you might actually know more about than me, so don't show me up here." The one or two chuckles Stadler received was expected, on a Friday afternoon. He had learned that at least for this group, it was rather hard to engage this late in the day, and he might grab a few people if he moved from dry lecture. Not too many though, but you couldn't have everything. "So the place that they meet the skeletal system is..." He hoped it wasn't too obvious he was searching for empty room on the white board, before uncapping his pen and scrawling across, "muscul... otendinous... junction." He noted, before tapping the long word with the marker. "The Regent's exam might refer to it as the myotendinous, but just remember it has an m and tendon close to it, and you should be fine." He quickly moves to glance at his watch, frowning. "That's... a good stopping point. We're a little behind, but we can pick it up Monday- Hey, hey-" He says, holding up his hand as people start getting up from their chairs. "Still want you to handle the assignments online though, over the weekend, 34 and 35; Get them done /early/, because I can see a lot of you," He glanced at a few people meaningfully to make the point, "wait until litterally the last minute and it's going to bite you someday. All right, dismissed." He says, a scant few seconds before the tone indicates the end of the school day. Stadler paused for a moment, letting people starting to shuffle out, before taking a deep breath. "Ms. Gutierrez; can you hang back for a few minutes? There's something I wanted to discuss."
Belinda Gutierrez	"Si, yes Mr. Stadler," Belinda answers, distracted as he scribbles down the notes at a furious pace. Relentless-- whether a comment on her method of note-taking or the sheer amount of material to cover, she works on her third notebook of the class year-- likely with a fourth soon to be forthcoming. Adding a sticky note-- homework! --she breathes out a long exhale, leaning back in her chair with a groan of gusto. Like a long run, finally jogged to finish! "Yes," she adds to a fellow student's question-- Rachel --grinning ear-to-ear as she nods. "Though we will have phone calls, so not fully departed for the holidays. Catch you in la biblioteca later!" Her grin remains until the last student shuffles (or walks, strides, or *runs* sheepishly from the classroom, finally fading from her features with a longer sigh as she slumps down into her chair. She mumbles something quietly, shuffling papers and books as she brings everything together from its haphazard chaos across her desk. Irony-- perfectly organized everywhere except when in class!
Richard Stadler	Stadler gave a faux sigh as Belinda continued to quickly jot down notes onto the notebook, but refrained from saying anything until the last student was out of the classroom, the door closing behind them. Any other meeting, he'd walk over to the door and prop it open, just to ensure transparency. This one was just a little bit different. "I get the feeling you might have kept sitting there weather or not I asked. I know you saw most of your colleagues happen to use laptops these days, but... well. You do retain more information when you write it down instead of type, I feel." He moves over to his own desk, grabbing the chair there by the type, and twirling it over to bring it closer to Belinda's desk itself, setting it down and taking a seat across from her. "So. This is... not about academics. You're doing well in my class, of course, and if you'd like to ask any questions about it, I'm here. This is about your... alter-ego." He says, searching for the words for a moment. "The one I saw at your employers. I feel... I'd... like to ask a few questions. If you don't mind."
Belinda Gutierrez	Belinda smiles quietly, eyes downcast as her heart flutters within her breast. "Multitasking," she admits, eyes warm as she nods. "Practicing my writing English too. Help learn difficult words and work things out that way." A last line, a jotted annotation, and.... doodling now. She huffs at herself, firmly closing the notebook again, adding it to the pile before she... folds her hands. Fingers laced. Holding *tight*, because-- fidgit otherwise. Breathe! "I do not mind, sir," the young woman answers, raising her eyes evenly. "I would be surprised if you did not have questions! It is a rule of science, no? Ask questions, understand things-- it is what seperates fact from fictions, yes?" She bites her lip, thinking carefully. "Well, the first-- I have been... that. For a long time. All my life, I think." She snorts, lips twitching with wry humor. "Since thirteen. Mi papa thought I was a mutant, at first! Momento extrano, odd moment, no?"
Richard Stadler	"That too." Stadler acknowledges, nodding and giving a small smile. "Lord knows it's important to practice that. I can feel my German get a patina of rust from disuse, so I get it." He notes. Not that he doesn't give her a look at the doodling that happens after her notes are done. It's not a severe one though, and he purses his lips slightly as she assumes a tight grip on her own hands. "Again, if you're nervous, if you don't want to answer questions, just tell me; I just want to have a firm understanding of some of the... gifts, some of my students have. And... yes, you could consider it a part of science, certainly. There are a number of fields where having good information is critical." He leans back just a bit, eyebrows going up as she begins from the beginning. "13... that must have been a bit of a trying time there... was that the first time you noticed things, in this case? A sudden transformation? I'm... suprised, admittedly, that it's not a mutation. It would be my first guess. If it's not... was there anything you... noticed? Something that caused it? "
Belinda Gutierrez	Belinda giggles softly, blushing with quiet mirth. Pursing her lips. Knuckles practically white before she exhales, loosening her deathgrip on herself. "It was," she admits, voice soft as she thinks back with care. "I am told, have heard, that when other children go through puberty, the 'terrible teens', they can become rowdy, unreasonable, emotional beyond reason." She shakes her head, chuckling softly. "I went the opposite way. I am sure mi familia had much to do with that; I do not know if they knew, or suspected, even before, but..." She shrugs, releasing her hands to slide her clasp up either arm; she leans down, brow furrowed. "Things have always smelled... More? Were louder. The night, it was always brighter for me. Especially when la Luna was out and rich and full." She grins again, chin on her forearms. "Mmm. I do not know. I can suspect, but...." She pause, thoughts running deep. "Mi bisabuelo," she says suddenly, hesitantly. "My greatgrandfather. He was very bright, very sharp when I was very young, but he faded as I grew older, and... Just faded. And as he seemed less and less lively, things became more...." She pauses, gesturing at the air helplessly. "...more. And then, the Change. It just happened one night. I did not--" She pauses again, biting her lip. "--four legs. But after, I wanted to eat after. Not people though! But fish, and deer, and mi mama's tortillas-- anything, everything, if it was edible-- it was always suppertime!"
Richard Stadler	Stadler nods. "It's tough, certainly; a number of changes in the body, the production of certain hormones' that one has to get a handle on... that's more for a Health class, but suffice to say it's a trying time for most parents. Though in my humble opinion those attitudes sometimes extend well into the 20s, but that may be me just being an old man." Another smile, that fades quickly. "Sorry. It... certainly sounded like piled on a bit. But do... Sorry, again. One moment." He stands and makes a quick hope over to his desk, opening a drawer to withdraw his own notepad, clicking a pen. "So you- Bah." He says, furiously scrawling nothing over the paper for a few moments, before digging into the drawer again, and this time actually seeing ink go across the page. Drawer slams shut, as he moves to sit back down. "So you noticed that you had a better sense of smell, bettering hearing, easier to see at night, in the.... moonlight." He notes, quickly running a pen across the page. "Is this something that you're... seeing now? Or just when you take that form?" His questions stop as she talks about her great grandfather. "It's hard, seeing family members age, become less vibrant. Something that we're lucky to experience, though, given the alternative. But, high appetites'... "He moved to scrawl more down. "Admittedly I'm glad you weren't eating people at the time. Won't begrudge you for venison, of course, but I imagine a transformation like that needs energy coming from somewhere, and it's easier to believe caloric energy rather than hocus-pocus."
Belinda Gutierrez	Belinda nods evenly, drawing herself up, chin still balanced on her hands as she waits for the teacher to return to his chair. "I have seen old people Mr. Stadler," she says, eyes twinkling with a sparkle of mischief. "You are not old! Merely distinguised and experienced." She bites back a giggle, quivering with glee. And coughing to herself, briefly. Focus! "When I am... like this," she continues, gesturing across herself. "Si, yes. Smells, sights, hearing things-- these are better than regular people. But when Other--" She exhales gently, gaze trailing off in wistful thought. "...It is like the first time reading a new book. More-- it is a whole new world of things, knowings, feelings. You can tell what someone ate that morning, had for lunch. If they are sick, or well; if they live with someone who is in poor health. If they have a pet, a dog, a cat. Can hear different sounds people cannot. Dog whistles. See the body heat... Different things." She glances back, bowing her head for a moment. "A coworker has been helping me learn new scents, so.... Drugs. Gunpowder. Explosives. Alcohol, on its own or in blood." She grimaces, shuddering as she frowns. "Can hunt like a hound. Scent, sometimes a few hours or days old or fresh-- it is like a path, a beacon, a mark that leads straight to them. And yes-- food!" She giggles laughter, sighing as she leans back with a smile of joy. "I think-- *think* --that eating so much gives me fuel, calories, for when I do shift, change." She purses her lips again, thoughtful. "When I helped Senior Flash, one of his villains slowed everyone down. So slow, so.... slow. And then after, I had to eat so *much*." She sighs, chuffing gently. "I am still eating so much. I have not eaten in this way for many years."
Richard Stadler	Stadler simply shook his head to Belinda. "Well, that's awfully kind of you, Ms. Gutierrez, but it's fine. You've got to make peace with the idea that things creak more often than not as the years go by; you live better that way. And experienced..." He says, trailing off. "I used to think that. Then I meet people like you, Crush, Ms. Crowe, and I'm equal parts terrified and thrilled I'm wrong." It's not like Belinda has the only problem with focus here. "But, yes, thank you. Better senses than regular people in this form, and... exceedingly heightened ones in that form you take. Different frequencies, tracking.." More writing to have it down in front of her. "And it sounds like you've learned to... analyze the data that your senses provide. I don't suppose this coworker has a name?" He asks, before looking at her oddly. "Generally, when they train K9 units, you need... samples of those materials to train on. I know you've told me about being involved in... some dangerous operations, but I.. am assuming this... coworker of yours is in one of those.. groups that dot the Eastern Seaboard. Would I be correct?" In terms of food, he nods again. "I... don't pretend to know about the powers these people wield, but it's valid that it would lead to higher metabolism. I do know that strenuous operations can require 3 thousand, 4 thousand calories a day, and that's just for a man rucking in the desert. Have you... quantified this?"
Belinda Gutierrez	The girl shakes her head sadly to the question, sighing in regret. "Being hungry-- being THAT hungry --I just ate anything with calories, with energy, no matter what it was." She grimaces, grinning in good measure. "Once, I had to eat a whole box of Sugar Bombs. I had to tear the box open, ate all the bis-- ah, cookies. And *then* licked the box clean of sugar!" She bites back a giggle, exhaling sharply; she reaches into the bookbag along her desk, humming softly as she rummages, searches-- fishing out a beef jerky stick that she unceremoniously tears open. "Haven't quantified, no," she admits with a murmur, biting of the top of the stick and munching ravenously. "But--" Gulp. "--Is not so terrible now as it was. So, eating is semi-constant, with many small-ish meals instead of one great, big, hours-long gorging." She chews rapidly, swallowing before she takes another chomping bite. Eager, quick-- the stick is gone in seconds, quickly ingested and gone. "...sorry," she adds, positively blushing for the first time. "Mi mama would be so unhappy with manners!" Longer pause. Longer debate, internally! "..she runs the I.C.U.," Belinda finally answers. "Captain Pezzini. She is running me through the same smell teaching, scent test that the NYPD K-9 departments go through. She is very thorough, and very careful." She smiles, bowing her head. "I am grateful. Oh, and first aid classes too. I have CPR certification!"
Richard Stadler	"An entire box of those would be substantial, certainly, but I'd wonder if you have a more efficient stock of supplies." He says, motioning to the beef jerky stick with his pen as she fishes it out of her book bag. "I'm glad that you're simply not hungry all the time, of course, but I do think you can help plan for it when it does happen with food that lasts and provides a decent balance of macronutrients.... "...though that may be me trying to just solve the problems I see, which... is not why we're here. I'm sorry; this is about understanding you, of course. Please don't be embarassed. I can consider this a... condition that you have. Lord knows I'm not stopping the diabetic student or two I have from grabbing a coke if they need it, so I won't begrude you if you need to have a snack. I... can clear it with Doctor MacIntyre, if you're okay with me letting her know." He asks. He leaves unsaid the rider, 'Or if she already knows.' "Captain Pezzini is good people. I'm sure she has a lot of skills to teach you, and I'm glad you have her as a resource. I've seen her work in the past. CPR is important to know too, of course. First Aid, as well; knowing how to dress a wound saves lives. Both others, and..." Another pause, as he moves to fold his own hands. A hesitation. "...How often to you go into harm's way with this? Some people who have these gifts like to... go out with them. Solve problems. Is that something you do?"
Belinda Gutierrez	Belinda has the good grace to *blush*, an embarassed look skittering aside before she looks back again with a rough, slow nod. "Soometimes...." she says, dragging out the word like a long admission of guilt. She sinks down into her chair-- chuffing again, sitting back upright. Not going to slink down like a guilty schoolgirl! Even if that is *exactly* the feeling just now. "I went out more when I was younger," she explains carefully-- ignoring that 'younger' was less than a year ago! "Now, only go when I am needed," she continues. "The tsunami in Sud America-- South America. In the Midwest, where an old woman needed help from evil things." She bite back a sheepish grin, a giggle turning into a sigh. "...those ladies in the Park," she admits grudingly. "Because the gangers were being.... too forward. I only scared them a *little* bit." She twirls the jerky wrapper up around her fingers, toying with the plastic as she firms her lips. "I do not eat so much when not fuzzy," she continues, "Jerky sticks between classes. And a few extra servings at the lunch. It is only when I have been extra-sized for a time, that I need more." She pats at her side, where an imaginary pack might be. "Am prepared other times. Vitamins now, too. B-12!"
Richard Stadler	Stadler does look like he's making an effort not to look... too disapproving of it, a task made easier by the way Belinda first tries to wither from the accusation. "I see...Not that it's... much better hearing that you were out when you were even younger than you are now. "I know people with gifts like these are needed, sometimes. Or at least... feel they're needed out there. It wouldn't do to get yourself..." He says, looking to struggle for the words. "Just be... aware of your capabilities, aware of your limitations. I don't want you dashing off into hell, either literal or figurative, without knowing how you're coming back again... I'm sorry, gangers? Were they giving you trouble?" A pause. "Were they armed?" "And understood. I'll keep that under advisement, and I'm curious as to what your battle rattle looks like when you decide to go out and face danger. SOmeone make something for you?"
Belinda Gutierrez	She smiles quietly, nodding with quiet certainty. "It is what I am learning with Ms. Captain Pezzini," she says, pausing to consider before she tucks the food wrapper back into her pack. "No, that is wrong. Just captain. And still learning, for when-- if people need help. It is...." Her lips twitch, eyues crinkling with a twinkle. "It is what we do. We all help when, how we can." Returning to sitting upright, she folds her arms before her, steepling her fingers. "They are not armed anymore," she says firmly, fighting back the urge to grin with silly glee. "They were giving local runners trouble, and would not accept 'no' for an answer. So, I took their guns away from them, beat them up only a very little, and zip tied them to handcuffs for la policia." She pauses, looking sheepish. "And stayed until the officers found them, to make sure nothing terrible happened. They were drunk."
Richard Stadler	Stadler is /really/ trying not to give Belinda a look right now, but there's a peering through his glasses at the barely restrained grin that quirks on her face. "Only a very little, well, I suppose I should take their word for it. I assume you didn't get shot at... or if you did, you hid it well enough in class. Though they could have had a worse night, I suppose. Truthfully I'm more worried about your interaction with the cops. While Captain Pezzini does a good job and is understanding, you do meet a rather poor class of people in some of them, and tickets to the Policeman's Ball only go so far these days." He moves to flip to the next page of the notebook, scrawling a heading. "But that does bring me to physical capabilities. I might assume there's some strength in the larger form? Resilence? ...How.. badly have you been injured while in it?"
Belinda Gutierrez	Belinda watches Mr. Stadler's look, trying so very hard not to giggle. She furrows her brow as she considers, twitching of mirth fading into a long frown. "Some strength," she admits at last, sighing with a grumble. "But not like El Spidora or Superman or El Hulk. I think, but am not sure, that it is a reflection...." She pauses, tilting her head in thought. "Magnification? Of how strong I am here, now, smaller. Can catch frisbees much better." The last meant as a weak joke, swiftly cast aside as it falls flat. "Cannot swim while larger. Can REALLY not swim! Cannot even dog-paddle." She grumbles, leaning down again. "When the Change comes-- fat goes away, or is not enough, or... something. Very poor flotation. Belt pouch cannot carry lifering, after all. But!" She sits back up again, energizing excitedly. "Can run, and run, and run forever. Never get tired, or hurt! By guns or pistols or knives or--" She cuts herself off, biting her tongue. And sighing-- cat is well and truly out of the bag. "....or machine guns, or rockets, or ice rays, or electricity..."
Richard Stadler	"Some strength." He repeats, jotting it down there. "Not as much as I expected, though, I suppose your hypothesis would be easy enough to test, provided you're willing to put the work in with P.E. Test weight limits in both forms now, improve your human strength, and see if it translates. Long term, admittedly, but health is something you should start planning for now. You're..." He starts, before frowning. "I was going to say you won't have this metabolism forever, but I don't exactly have data on that, now do I? Sadly, I don't think we could test the catching frisbees." He deadpans, showing he can at least appreciate a joke. "No swimming, though? Important you keep your kit light, then, I imagine. Lift jackets are bulky, even if you could carry them easily." More notes. endless notes. "Endurance is high. Understood; that can be useful to..." He trails off. Looks at his notes, and looks up. "You.. you're talking from experience, aren't you?" He notes, before sighing. "What guns? Nine millimeter? forty five? Five point five six? Seven point six two?" He says. "/Fifty/?" Oh, might as well add it in. "None of those happened because of Ms. Crowe's actions, did they?"
Belinda Gutierrez	"/No/!," Belinda replies immediately, earnestly, palms falling to the desk as her gaze becomes intense. And immediately restrained, as she blushes hotly. "....a while back," she forces herself to admit, even if speaking quietly. "Helicopter gunship. During the affair with los Centinelas, I think. A kidnapping attempt on someone." She remains quiet for a long moment, sighing quietly as she bows her head. "....fifty caliber," she mumbles. "20 millimeter. 7.62 miniguns, explosive rounds. Hand grenades. 7.62 military rifles. 9 millimeter and .45 caliber and revolvers. A shotgun. And I think someone tried to poison me, once?" She is quiet for a moment, wilting in her chair. "...maybe artillery?"
Richard Stadler	Stadler flinches slightly at Belinda's insistence on Nettie's innocence. "Sorry; I had to ask. I'm learning more about her, but she seems like a rather odd duck. I'm not sure what she might try to do." And if he wants to continue that argument, he'll have to do it after getting though the danger of what Belinda says, as he looks incredulously on when she mentions a helicopter gunship. "Did you... Was it a Huey? Mi-24?" He said, wracking his brain and coming up frusturatingly blank for that group. Not that it was the only frustration in his look as Belinda described what she had been shot with. "You were shot with 20 mike mike and still happen to be in one piece? I've seen that dissolve seabirds into component atoms, and there's no 'Maybe' artillery. You were either engaged with arty or you weren't, and you would /know it/. What, were you not sure if it was mortars? When, exactly, Ms. Gutierrez, were you in a situation where your opposition could call for fire like that? Los Centinelas again?"
Belinda Gutierrez	Belinda bites her lip, abashed as she exhales softly. The thought of Little White Lies flickers across her features like a cloudfront, come and gone with the next breath. "No," she admits somberly. "It was after. I was watching the store for Mrs. Crowe. She and a few others had travelled to the Himalayas for work....." Thoughts swirl, twist; she breathes again, calming before she conjtinues, more gently. "There is a small device that shines when she is hurt. You have seen it-- the crystal chimes at the store? Because sometimes the things she goes to are dangerous, I am not allowed to go." She quirks her lips, grumbling gently. "Am not 'frosty' enough. Am too 'green'. As if I was Beast Boy!" She huffs, grumbling under her breath. "But, the alarm will activate if she is in great danger. It chimed that day; I grabbed the kit, Changed, and went to rescue her." She rubs her head sheepishly, wincing at the memory. "So, that was the day I almost was cause of international incident, because... er... I had to scare off the Nepalese army. They were trying to bury Abuela in a mountain cavern. Mi-24? That is the Hind? And those little artillery things they carried with them to the mountains. Mortars, I guess."
Richard Stadler	"I am aware of that crystal chiming... I didn't think it was anything more than a decoration, but I can't assume with all this abracadabra mess. I'll keep that in mind if I happen to hear it again. But I feel she and I are rather of the same mind with that part. Yes, you're not 'frosty' enough. You're 17. Teenagers do a lot of dumb stuff at this age without a lot of good knowledge to back it up. I don't exactly know Beast Boy beyond some newspaper articles, but he's also probably the same flavor of teenager. It's not a put down, just... facts some times." Stadler just sits there for a moment, a hand covering his face briefly, before lifting his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "I'm beginning to regret asking these questions, because I feel this sort of information is more... trouble than it's worth. Yes, the Hind. Might have gotten a few of those, though I would place bets that it could have been a modified Mi-17. And I really don't /want/ to hear that you're out there getting... bracketed by a Samovar section out in the middle of the Himalayas." He leans forward. "I understand that Ms. Crowe might need help, and, again, I appreciate she's not throwing you in harm's way, but please, if you have to hop off and fight a godd- a blasted army by yourself, let me know."
Belinda Gutierrez	Belinda nods, exhaling in slow relief-- and more grateful than anything that elaboration was not asked for! "Is part of the reason I am training," she tries to explain, "Working so that, 'charge in, go GRRR, and expect everyone to run away' does not have to be the only thing I do. Because some people are not the kind to run away when you 'Grr!' at them. They open fire instead. And when rifles do not work, they open more fire. And continue until you lead them on merry chase across the snow. At least Mrs. Crowe had time to escape, get away. And it was.... had to be rapido. No time to message or text someone and let them know where going, what doing." Long pause. "Did you know that wolves can dig tunnels and caverns into snowbanks for shelter in blizzards?"
Richard Stadler	"I did not know that specifically, but it isn't a surprise; thick coat on canines and lupines meant to work in those temperatures means that snow and cold effects them less than we think... or most people, I suppose, not you. But I'm glad you were able to run away from then and hide, and I can realize that urgency plays a part, but you were about to do the same thing when we marched down to hell, and urgency is no excuse to not have a contingency in place." Another leaning back in his chair, as the note book shuts. "But you did say you were training, didn't you? Again, I keep having to apologize, I just don't like to hear about you rushing into danger, to people that plan to shoot at you weather you grr at them or not. Running off to break contact only works so well compelled to more permanent solutions. and sooner or later it's..." He trails off again, tapping his foot lightly on the ground. "Anything we can do to minimize risk is important."
Belinda Gutierrez	The young lady nods somberly, absently chewing on her bottom lip as she broods. She sits quietly for a moment, fingers tapping together as she shuffles in her seat. "I know," she finally says, sighing to herself. "Young people and fighter pilots and Marines, I keep hearing that they think they are invencible`, invincible, and that nothing will ever hurt them." She smiles crookedly, half to herself. "And when someone almost is unable to be hurt, it is first instinct to leap to the fray. But that is other reason for training, too. So that I can 'grr!' when need to, but if that does not work--" She breathes deep, letting the breath go with a long relish. "Can do other things than risk hurting someone. Am glad I did not hurt anyone." She crosses her arms again, leaning down on them with a firm nod. A pause, perking in curiosity. "Mr. Stadler, what would you suggest?"
Richard Stadler	"I'm not saying we should have less people like that jumping into the fray. But I will note that pilots and jarheads are meant to be out there. They did the training, took the oath, and committed to depending this country from the next... alien invasion or giant robot, becuase that's the time we live in, ANd I still don't like that we ask it of them."He says, and then it's his turn to be silent. For a long few seconds. "I appreciate how you want to avoid violence, and that's.. what you should do. Using your endurance for good is.. what I would recommend. Like you said, though, going grr doesn't meant they'll run, and I'm afraid the best option, the optimal option, I think, when someone ends up shooting at you is to... nuetrallize them before they can act. And that's something I... I don't want to tell you to do."
Belinda Gutierrez	"And it is not something I ever wish to do," Belinda affirms, "Even with the terrible things we encounter. Even Captain America had to do such things, sometimes, but in a different time, a different world. A soldier, like you were." She smiles gently, shoulder sagging as she exhales with gentle reverence. "A wise man once told me," she remarks quietly, giving voice to her thoughts. "To be strong enough to be kind. To be gentle. I like to think that Superman lives that way, and I could do much worse than follow that example. Though I totally wish to visit space, too!"
Richard Stadler	Richard Stadleris silent for a long moment, looking down at the ground, composing thoughts, before he looked up. "The thing about superman, about the way he talks, is that he has an immense amount of power at his disposal, and an equal amount, from what I've seen, of precision to use it in the right place. But at the end of the day, he..." He says, before falling silent again. "It's... Captain Rogers had to do a lot of things when he fought, and I've never had the opportunity to really talk to this version of him. But what it comes down to is you have to be skilled, and I mean, /really/ skilled, to go after people who are intent on killing you, and not kill them back. More often than not, it's going to lead to two outcomes, that either you or them will die. Both are something you have to make peace with if you plan to keep going out there, Ms. Gutierrez. I know, for me, it'll be tough to make that same peace in regards to you." Another breath, in, and out. "And there's something that Superman, even with the power he has, simply doesn't realize, or doesn't want to."
Belinda Gutierrez	Belinda closes her eyes, furrowed brow the only inkling to the thoughts running through her head. Silent, even for the whirlwind racing in her brain; she is silent for long seconds, quiet and still. "....Mr. Stadler?" she asks, voice hesitant as her tongue awakens. "Have you ever felt like.... Felt like you owe the world a debt? Or someone a debt-- something that... your ancestors brought to pass, or did, or were part of, and that you must make up for it somehow? Repay, to..." She waves her hand aimlessly, fighting to find the right words. "I know what happened, what might have been-- it is something I was never part of, would never be part of. But I cannot help feeling responsible for it, either." She sighs, letting her hand fall helplessly. "That is why I go out, and go to risk. Sins of the forefathers."
Richard Stadler	Stadler shakes his head to Belinda "Oh... no. That's not the driving force I had. I mean, it's not... invalid, certainly. We all owe the world for what we are; none of us live in a vaccum, but... no. The sins of our forefathers are their sins, and there's alone. I suppose, though, there's little difference between undoing evils of the past because of a personal obligation or a more vague one. For me, it's simply... something must be done. And sometimes you're the best person to do it." He continues, his voice just a bit softer. "But why you do it doesn't change what you have to do, Belinda. What you'll have to prepare yourself to do. One of these days, it's going to come down to your life, or the life of the person going after you. And the truth, the hard, horrible truth I... don't want to say, but must, is that, because of bad luck, because of an important mission, or because of a sense of justice, some people just... need to be killed. I hope... I hope you aren't the one doing the killing. I really do, with all my heart. But if you're going to go out, head into danger like that, you... need to have a talk with yourself. About what you're prepared to do."
Belinda Gutierrez	Belinda listens with care, eyes clouded as she hears, considers the words. Bitter experience-- she nods gravely as she takes it in. "I will," she offers softly, exhaling with slow regard. "I will have to think about it, and what it is I must do. What I want." She hesitates for a brief moment, forcing a smile as she nods again. "Thank you, sir. I promise not to go out again, without thinking over your concerns." She pauses, a blush on her features. "Perhaps we will run into Captain America, someday?"
Richard Stadler	Stadler gives her a small smile, a sad one. "That's all I ask. And if it does happen, my door is always open. But I do appreciate you sitting down with me on this one... I just wanted to get to know what you can do. Just remember if you do think there's trouble, you've got another teammate in your court." He says, before standing up, moving over to the door to hold it open for her. "Stay safe getting home... and I suppose that's a possibility. I wouldn't mind asking him a few questions, though... I suppose he's not as deified to me as others. Hard to do so when you outrank the man."
Belinda Gutierrez	Belinda laughs quietly, gathering her books, her bag, rising and moving towards the door with a last warm glance. "Well, I do not outrank him," she says, "But... he is Captain America. He is the best of us. We could only ask questions..." She bites her lip, eyes twinkling quietly. "Like: 'How are you doing?'. And then the rest would come." She beams, casting a quick wave. "Good night, Mr. Stadler. Watch the way home, when you go!"