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Conversations: Platonic (IC)


Raveled

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April 17th, 2011

Just after 10 AM

The top hatch of the Lab's uppermost levels dilated open and Ironclad rose up and through the opening. She waited there as the hatch ground shut, watching the leaves scratch against each other. She'd argued from the beginning that the iris door was a flawed design but she'd been voted down. Now that they were running into issues with the system and reevaluating their options, she allowed herself a moment of satisfaction. She wasn't up here just to boost a failing ego, though; she had places to be, and the best way to get there was in her suit. The young inventor brought up the proper location on her GPS, lined herself up, and set off.

She had to adjust her heading a few times in her fairly sedate flight (Ironclad tied to keep under the speed of sound when inside city limits) but soon enough she was flying over the warehouses and rail yards of Greenbank. Before too much longer she was circling one warehouse in particular. Ironclad activated the cell phone function build into her armor, dialing up a well-known but little-used number of late. Once she heard her friend's familiar noncommittal grunt on the other end, she spoke. "Mara. It's Jessica. Do you have time to talk?"

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Mara blinked, glancing blearily at the cell phone next to her head on the workbench. She sat back up, wincing at the crick in her neck from falling asleep while working, but picked up the phone and made a tired and noncommittal grunt.

"Mara. It's Jessica. Do you have time to talk?"

She glanced over at her main computer screen, which cycled through outside views until one of the cameras caught a glimpse of Ironclad in the air overhead. sudden visit - unusual - not that unusual for Jessica - problems? - mmh Rather than reply directly, she hung up the phone and told the warehouse system to open up a skylight, waving her armor-clad friend in from below.

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Ironclad lowered herself through the skylight and into the warehouse, glancing around at her friend's living space. The young inventor tallied the numerous unfinished projects, the darkened kitchen nook, the diced mannequin parts in Mara's testing area. She touched down without a sound and took a moment to compose her features, then folded back the gold and green helmet to smile at her friend. "Morning, Mara," she said. "How're the wings coming?"

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Frowning, Mara glanced over at her testing area and pulled a lock of hair back behind one ear. "Some progress," she replied, tilting her head as if she was playing the latest tests back in her mind. Which, knowing her, she probably was. "Still not usable, but narrowing down the problem. Other projects and interests interfering. Limited hours in a day. Not going to dilate time just to finish projects a month or two early. Unwise. And would mean an additional project. Been keeping busy?" She shook her head, and gestured vaguely with one hand as she corrected, "You, I mean."

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A smirk tugged at Jessica's mouth as she walked around the open space, not quite touching several of the dissembled devices lying around. "The only woman in the world who can actually have more hours in the day," she teased, "and you don't want them. Either you're way too responsible, or you're squandering a perfect opportunity."

She walked a full circuit of the warehouse space before she spoke up again. "I'm doing good," she said. "On schedule to graduate in May. Looking at an apartment in Hanover. Blake's doing his job, so I don't see him as much as I would like to." She stopped next to the kitchen bar, peering through the stacks at her friend. Her mouth was suddenly dry, and she swallowed before stammering out, "Can I... how did... If you could... Um, how's things going with Jill?" It plainly wasn't what Jessica wanted to ask, but whatever her real worry was, she apparently felt the need to work up to it.

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Mara raised her eyebrows. "Good. Sorry, no. Grammar. Well." She tilted her head, a hint of a smile on her lips. "It's...nice. Impossible to quantify. Have tried," she added, wryly. "But is just...don't know. You're in a relationship. Probably know the feeling. Warm, tingly. ....some times more tingly than others." That last bit obviously derailed her thoughts for a moment, but she shook her head to get back on track. "Both...busy. But try to make time for each other. Worth it."

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Seeing Mara genuinely happy was a new experience, and Jessica savored it for a moment. "If anyone would try and put math to a relationship," she remarked, "it would be you."

Silence stretched between the two woman until Jessica finally took a deep breath and said, all in a rush, "This is gonna sound kind of invasive and I know you don't like talking about your past much, but could you tell me why you became a superhero?" She winced and added quickly, "I don't mean you have to relive whatever traumatic thing happened, but was it one event? Or are you the latest in a long line of Franco-Cossack-Nippo crime-fighting geniuses or something?"

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Mara retreated back into herself for a moment, visibly ducking down like she'd had a minor but sudden urge to retreat into her own torso. Still, she caught the reflex and made herself straighten out. "French-American," she corrected off-hand, and then bit her lip to ponder something. doing better about that - helped to have told someone - still - keep it under wraps? - at least avoid unless she pushes - sorry Jessica "Parents were....not heroes, no," she finally replied, clearly being at least a little evasive. "Not a singular event, either. Exactly. More...about responsibility. Giving something back. And penance, maybe."

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Jessica sat down on a stool and did something rare these days; she shut her suit down entirely and started to peel the pieces off. Just her left gauntlet and vambrace, but it was more than she usually did. The armor opened like a clamshell and she put it on the kitchen bar. Underneath she was wearing a sort of padded bodysuit, a dark blue color that conformed tightly to the lines of her body. She rolled back the suit and rubbed at the pale skin there. "What if... what if you misremembered some of it? Like a kid who doesn't understand why adults do some of the things they did, or maybe you didn't know all the facts of the matter then but you do now? Would you want to go back and learn the objective truth? Even just go back and look at things from a different perspective?"

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Hesitating, Mara crossed her arms, tapping a finger on her bicep. "Not...mmh." Tap tap tap. "Isn't...much ambiguity to my childhood. Have a fairly objective view of events. Don't...think I'd profit from seeing it again. Would be upsetting, and...enraging. Tempt me into causing a bad paradox. Past isn't...." She took a deep breath, pushing away some recent memories she still wasn't sure what to do with. "....isn't...really that simple."

She tilted her head, furrowing her brow and glancing at Jessica. "But guessing this isn't about me. Something happened?"

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Jessica tried to busy herself with the armor for a minute, but before long she gave it up and sat with her hands in her lap. "I... went back in time," she said. "I don't know how far back, but I ended up seeing my grandfather, Malcolm Dawes. I don't know if I ever told you, but he was the first Ironclad, way back." She started twiddling her fingers around, not meeting Mara's eyes. "He wasn't really a hero like us. I mean, this was back when freelance heroes like us were illegal, so he worked for the government. I never really what he did, but I thought he... well, helped people."

The young woman looked up suddenly and Mara could see the tears in her eyes. "He didn't. He killed people, Mara. I saw him attacking this military base and he was killing everyone! I had to stop him. I had to fight my own grandfather!"

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Mara was quiet for a while, leaning back against a workbench as she frowned, listened, and thought. "....why?" she asked, finally, looking up at Jessica with sympathy and a hint of concern. "The military base, I mean. Why was he attacking it? Context is important. The first Ironclad is on record as a hero. Different times, yes, but...even with government... - term - ...backing, indiscriminate killing would be notable and on record." She sighed, but shook her head. "Not...don't approve of killing. Obviously. Own reasons. But don't know what to think without knowing the reasons."

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Jessica slumped on the stool. "That's what I mean. I went back and I saw five minutes of a fight. There's no mention of it in his service records, so what was it? A personal vendetta, or some secret mission? But in either case why was he killing those people?" Jessica hung her head. "My grandfather practically raised me. He's why I studied hard, got into engineering and became a hero. I thought if he'd just be proud of me it's be the greatest thing ever -- but now I don't know if I ever really knew him."

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Mara sat in silence, picking at the fraying edge of a burn hole in her overalls and quietly fretting over something as Jessica talked. Some of the conversation was hitting a little too close to home, feeding into her own concerns about exposure of her history; but, she reminded herself, dwelling on that wouldn't be fair to her best friend. plenty of time for that later

"....think," she slowly replied, "that...you have to decide how much it matters. To you. The past, I mean." She frowned, lightly shaking her head. "Can't always control your...history. And think that five minutes, no context...maybe not worth throwing away your hero. Think that who he was around you, raising you, teaching you...more important than who he was before that. Would try to remember him as you knew him. Not be too swayed by brief visions until you have more information. Which is probably somewhere," she pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "Public or easy-access records, no. But some report has to exist. You're very good with computers. And can talk to them directly, now. Have...faith...you'll find something."

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"Right," Jessica replied sarcastically. "I'll just ring up Victory and ask for whatever top secret records they have for a thirty year period, and if that doesn't fly I'll just hack into a secure government database. Paragon of law and order, that's me." She looked up and smiled though, her tone a bit lighter than it was when she entered the warehouse. "Really Mara, thanks. I don't really know what I'm going to do about all this, but... thanks for letting me talk it out a bit." The heroine hopped off the stool and wove around the shelves again until she could give her friend a loose hug. Disengaging, she moved over to the testing area and examined the chopped remains of many mannequins. "You know, we haven't really talked in... jeez, maybe a month? Outside of work stuff, anyway. How've you been? How're things going with you and Jill O'Cure?"

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She nodded. "Mmh. Important to be able to talk things out sometimes. Organize thoughts. Second opinions. Catharsis." She stretched a little, brightening at the mention of her girlfriend. "Well. Going well, I mean. Asked that already, too," she pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "Must be something else to talk about besides my love life. ....probably."

She frowned a bit, thinking on that and realizing that the list of topics wasn't as long as it probably should be. for some value of 'should' - arbitrary - mmh - work? - no - friends social projects - few friends - poor social life outside Jill - projects too early to discuss - non-technology projects? - ah "Starting paperwork for a company," she offered, gesturing idly with one hand.

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Jessica blinked, straightening up from her inspection of Mara's idle projects. "Paperwork for a... Uh, congratulations, Mara! You're thinking of starting your own company? Commercializing some of your ideas?" The young inventor moved over to the table and perched there, half-sitting as she glanced over the papers. "But I thought you didn't like the idea of your tech getting in the hands of the general public. Something about the idiot threshold and the time/space continuum." She glanced up and flashed a smile at her friend. "Of course, if you ever make a key fob that can take a whole car, I'll buy one; my truck's great, but parking can be a real hassle in the city."

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"Mmh." Mara shook her head, holding up a hand. "No. Not releasing that. And not planning to sell my...original work. Often not safe, and generally...uncomfortable with the idea. Even for things that are...word. Benign."

She hefted herself up onto her workbench, sitting on the edge and tapping a finger against the smooth, stained surface. "But need money, more general resources. Personal money won't last forever, especially at this rate. Am generally...fairly economical - scrap metal, reclaimed parts - but need to plan further ahead. Consulting. The plan, I mean - basically what I do at the Lab already. Other peoples' inventions, I - and anyone I hire - would...help. Unsolvable problems, design issues. General improvement. Support. Whatever a client needs to make products work, work better. Maybe in-house projects if someone has a good idea. In theory. Should be viable, just...red tape."

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Jessica considered her friend's words. She'd never had to worry about money -- while Dawes Tech wasn't on top of the market, her family had never had to scrape every penny to get by, either. She'd never really considered having to make money, having to make one's own way in the world. It was a depressing thought, really, to imagine someone as bright as Mara having to worry about something as mundane and prosaic as money. That was the kind of thing that the Lab was supposed to handle, and the thought of her friend devoting time to a budget instead of a new project was more irritating than Jessica would've thought before this moment. She tried to push all that aside and forced a cheery tone. "I can't believe I just heard you admit to an 'unsolvable problem.' Should I mark the day on my calendar?"

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Mara snorted. "Unsolvable for the client. Not for anyone I'd hire. Certainly not for me." She waved a hand, brushing the thought away. "Not saying I can solve everything. Not...realistic. For now. But unlikely to get problems I cannot handle. Idea wouldn't have gone to planning or engineering then. Hopefully. Even then, can always work around it...or just tell them the problem is insurmountable given resources." She shrugged. "It's something I've had experience with. Brain does it automatically, anyway. Might as well make money. Steady income. May be able to structure company for adjustable personal involvement unless a difficult or interesting problem comes."

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"I'd love to see the look on some exec's face when you tell them their product won't work. 'Mm. Unworkable design. Scrap. Start over. Call in month, will reevaluate.' Of course, if you're brain's available, Dawes Tech might have some work for you in the future, if I have anything to say about it." Jessica's smile faded by degrees and she shifted uncomfortably. "That... that wouldn't be weird, would it? Taking money from m-- from my company? When it is my company, anyway."

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That one took some thought. Mara unfocused a bit, furrowing her brow and tilting her head while she turned the idea over. "....no. Not that weird. If," she emphasized, raising a finger, "and only if Dawes was treated like every other company. Might give them small priority or personal attention, better consideration, but pay and work would be largely under same contract, terms, and fees as any other. Pure business. Wouldn't expect you to need the help too often, though," she pointed out. "You're very good. Company seems to have a good reputation, as well."

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"My grandfather's company does, yes," Jessica replied, choosing her words carefully. "But I can admit that I'm not as smart as you, Mara. You speak, what, four languages? Even if you do struggle with English sometimes," she added jokingly. "I could never understand the physics for all that dimension-twisting stuff you do. Besides, there doesn't seem to be enough time to work on all the projects I want to. Although, saying that." The young woman pushed off the table and hopped into the center of the working area, doing an impromptu, twisting dance there. It looked ridiculous with her missing helmet and gauntlet, but she was clearly so happy it was hard to laugh. "School will be done in the middle of May. I'll have my degrees and then... Well, I kinda always expected to go back and grab my doctorate or master's, you know? But that seems kind of redundant with the Lab around."

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"Five," she automatically corrected, and then frowned. "Well. Not quite as good at Spanish as I'd like. Accent. Small conventions. Time and practice...never enough hours."

She raised an eyebrow at her friend's half-armored dance, looking fairly amused. "Congratulations. And yes, actual accomplishments probably outweigh degrees at some point. Certainly hope so, anyway. Only have a G.E.D., myself, remember. Other ways to measure success. Could always go get a better degree later if you wanted to...armor alone would be worth consideration to good schools. Not attending school probably gave me extra hours needed to bend reality, really. Don't think I'd have done as well as you there. Would lack...patience."

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"HIT is a good school," Jessica insisted, only half-serious. "Anyway, I'm going to be not quite eighteen with a bachelor's degree. That's not exactly slacking."

The young inventor wandered back to the workbench and picked up a piece of whatever it was Mara was working on. It looked like a glass or crystal spring, some transparent material twisted into a corkscrew shape, and big enough to fit over either woman's forearm. Jessica wasn't exactly sure what it did, and she didn't want to think about how much of her friend's -- apparently dwindling -- personal resources it represented. After a moment she put the piece down and spoke up again. "Anyway, power armor is hardly unique. Malice, Daedalus -- AEGIS practically mass produces that MAX armor."

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