RPLog - Aftermath In The Student Center

Log Info

Title: Aftermath In the Student Center
Emitter: None
Characters: Sandra, Liv, Reg
NPCs: None
Place: Steranko Institute, Student Center
Time: April 29, 2010
Summary: After the beating that was the interruption of the Oceanside Jewelry heist, Reg and Sandra bump into one another and share some information. Liv comes along, and Reg and Sandra show they think … similarly. (Much to Sandra's chagrin on the matter.)

It's a day, at least in Cove City. A decent day, actually. There are already rumors spreading through campus about Current and Valiant being off-campus so late at night, and then stopping a jewelry heist. One can see and hear some of the whispering and gossip-mongering as Sandra walks into the student center - hair damp, with a towel around her neck.
She heads to the snack shop for a smoothie - now that she can't leave campus for a couple of days. Someone was busted for sneaking off without permission - even if, in Sandra's mind, it was for a good reason. After all - soaking in a bathtub is JUST not the same as swimming in a large body of water. She was DYING for some good salty water!

Spotting Sandra, Reg inclines his head towards her and says, "Good evening," his voice that same quiet tenor-baritone. He is sitting over near the video games, a PS3 controller in his hand. He's once again playing God of War III. Setting down the controller, he stretches, asking, "How're you?"

Sandra freezes - dear gods she has learned to hate … he noticed her! A deep sigh escapes the young woman's lungs, and light blue eyes turn to look over at Reg, offering a nod of her head. "I am well enough. I am also not suspended. Just confined to campus for a couple of days. Rules are rules, after all. Next time I am to just -ask- to go swimming, rather than doing. Even if I was trying not to be a bother," she notes. Assuming that is what the young man means by 'OK'.

"Not suspended is a good thing. Asking beforehand is also good," Reg acknowledges. The young man shrugs, "Why I did when I was picking up something from a store," He says. "You look into that strange woman the other night? I did some research, and found a few interesting things…"

"Into the one called Nephrite, specifically, no. That is a … um … jade, is it not?" asks Sandra, curiosity, as well as a sense of duty to find out everything she can about what happened, draws her towards Reg. Forget the smoothie for now.
"I did look into the gems she took. As for mystical potential, she took the high-end jewels. And the jewelry shop fancied a setting meant to bring luck to travelers - as that was their clientele. As for … her herself. Well, no, I really find nothing."

"I more looked into the methods and why they're doing it," Reg says to the woman. "They seem to be drawing a symbol on the city. Think of it like a cross-hairs, or such. It's part of a ritual to gather power. Not sure what they want to do with it, though if you're right about the traveling, perhaps going somewhere. She did say she was a police officer 'elsewhere', after all." He frowns. "You'd need some sort of marker at each location though…"

"Ley lines? Ancient sites of power for the indigenous peoples? Sites of power events long forgotten? Though, travel and commerce go hand in hand so … just symbols of meaning?" Shifting to sit on the arm of the sofa, opposite of where Reg is - keeping her distance from man and machine - Sandra purses her lips. "I do not believe they are from our Planet. There are no myths, that I can find or think of, that speak of people of the Earth. And she had opalescent skin."

Reg shakes his head, "None of the above. I checked to see if they followed leylines. They're more forming conduits from the locations to a central location. A park, really. I have a few possibilities for the other two locations, if I'm right. A pair of jewelry stores on the west side, and some sort of exhibition on the south side of the city," He says to the woman. He shrugs, "Neohumans can be weird. But unless the whole speech she was giving was a con, I agree she's from somewhere else. I lean towards another dimension rather than another planet, though."

Blue eyes narrow and turn a stormy gray as Reg uses the term 'neohuman'. "Please stop perpetuating that ridiculous falsehood of a term. I do believe you know full well that those with abilities are hardly 'new' to humanity," she intones. Hey, the guy wears Greek armor - it's a logical assumption that he believes in the Greek histories.
Sandra takes a moment, her jaw grinding, to calm herself before she exhales slowly. "So another dimension. The question is, are they trapped or are they planning for invasion. No doubt the dynamics here on the surface are many enough and strong enough to repel an invasion, should it come. But is the surface their only target. Are their points in earth's orbit they are preparing, and are they beneath the surface, preparing as well?"

Liv slouches into the student center, eyes lowered, mind … well, clearly elsewhere. She shuffles up to the snack bar, getting herself a smoothie, a brownie and a pair of cookies - which seems to be intended as lunch, as evidenced by the fact she methodically unpeels all three from their packaging and sticks the brownie between the cookies. There. Sandwich. Perfectly healthy, right? She gnaws as she oozes along, juggling the smoothie precariously in the crook of her elbow.

A wry smile curves Reg's lips, "Neohuman is the proper term, regardless of the age of such abilities. Many terms, when taken individually, don't make sense but when formed into a compound word creates an overall meaning unique in themselves. Neohuman is one such. One could certainly say 'powered or exceptionally talented individual' but that's too long. What about people who are not inhuman at all? And so forth. It is terminology, that's all." He pauses, "But that's another issue. If they were an invasion, they'd certainly be better prepared. I would guess it's just some people trying to get home. Probably got here by accident. With the ritual they're doing, probably they're 'far' from home as it were." He glances up, lifting a hand, "Hi there, Liv. That's not really healthy, you know."

"Which is why I prefer the word 'dynamic'. After all, it means power - plain and simple. It is certainly a more fitting match for the meaning that 'neohuman' is trying to relay, and far less human centric. It is Politically Cooperative, as I have heard the term, yes?" Still, Sandra just rolls her shoulders. She won't change these people, but she will not bend, either. "Let us hope that they are simply lost," notes Sandra, frowning. "I will be prepared for invasion, none the less."
Turning, blue eyes drift to Liv, and the young woman simply nods. "It seems Reg is playing his Violent Games again, if you would care to join."
"I don't care," Liv replies without looking up from the 'sandwich.' She twists until she can take a long slug from the smoothie and finally lifts her eyes, acknowledging the pair with a faint smile. "Hi, Sandra, Reg. Why play games when you can have the real thing?" There's a note of irony in her voice as she approaches, sidelong.

"Dynamic, however, has multiple meanings which can confuse the issue. Not to mention that political cooperation, or political correctness as is used is a fallacy of sorts. It's certainly true that you should be polite to pope," Reg says with a shrug, "But simplicity and conciseness is most important. Is the term offensive? No. Does it explain the idea? Yes. Thus, it suffices." He shrugs at Liv, "Because it's fun, and the real thing isn't. Sometimes it's a challenge, which can be entertaining, but violence itself is never fun. Or it shouldn't be, at any rate."

"It -is- offensive. To me, and to those who are not human at all! But," states Sandra emphatically as she waves a hand through the air, "those who perpetuate the term have such a human-centric point they are blinded to thobviousness of other viewpoints."
Crossing her arms over her chest, Sandra harrrumphs faintly, and does her best to not look like she is pouting, while she is pouting. After all, it is not a battle she can win, and she knows it.
"How does the day find you, Liv?" asks Sandra, turning her head away from Reg and focusing on the shadow-girl. "I believe it is a distraction, rather than training. Thus it is play and not work. Thus it is fun. Yes?"

"Yeah," Liv says, an unspoken volume in that single word agreement. She drops down on the arm of the couch, still nibbling at the edges of the cookie. The smoothie shifts again, threatening to dump all over Reg for a second before she rights herself. "The day finds me curled in the corner hiding from it," she says dryly, "but it still finds me, is the aggravating part."

A wry smile curves his lips. Reg says, gently, "I'm not exactly human, you know. And I don't think it's insulting. The vast majority of people are human. Over 99%. Using a general term is a good thing, I think." He looks at Liv, "Why are you hiding?" He wonders

Stormy-blue eyes shift to look at Reg, and it seems Sandra wants to say more - however she stops herself. She just grunts her disagreement, before focusing her attention on Liv. "Perhaps you need to find a cave, rather than a corner. I know of some that are, admittedly, difficult to reach," she suggests, actually trying to be helpful.

"I'm definitely not human," Liv says, flatly casual. "Neoindividual would be a bear on the tongue, is all - right?" She shrugs, studying her sandwich, then chuckling at Sandra's suggestion. "Make like a bear and hibernate? Tempting." More pondering of the intricacies of dessert, and she finally adds, "I nearly got someone killed the other day. Led them into a situation that was too hot for us to handle."

"I think a cave would be terribly uncomfortable, myself," Reg says. "Then again, I don't think you mean the world itself, do you?" He's perceptive. He tilts his head to the side, appraising Liv. "How did you get them killed, exactly?" He wonders. "Give us more details."

"I think a cave would be terribly uncomfortable, myself," Reg says. "Then again, I don't think you mean the world itself, do you?" He's perceptive. He tilts his head to the side, appraising Liv. "How did you get nearly them killed, exactly?" He wonders. "Give us more details."

Sandra rolls her shoulders in that almost awkward manner. "Learn from the decisions we make, so that we make better ones in the future. They are not dead, as you said nearly. Take it as a chance to learn." Sandra then turns to look at Liv and offers an almost smile. "You are not the only one to have gotten into a situation that was 'too heated to handle' as you said."
Liv looks sour. "Sure, you have to ask," she says. "I've told you the important part. I've been looking into some local thefts. Thought I found out where the person in charge was hiding out. So I asked them along -" she keeps persisting in using the plural-neutral for whoever this is "- because they had strength with mentalists …" She swallows. "And they barely made it out." She makes a weak face at Sandra. "I'd feel better if it had been me that took the hit." Then, a pause and, skeptically, "Really?"

"Really. I and Sandra had a tough time last night, though it sounds like we were luckier. Let me ask you this, though. Did you force this person along? Did you hold a gun to his or her head?" As he asks this, Reg sets the controller down. "And did you gather information in good faith? You didn't cut corners?" A shrug, slow, "Assuming the first isn't true and the second is, then you didn't do anything of the sort. They made their own decision." He leans back, "It's hard I know, but a truth nevertheless. In fact, I'd say it's an important one. You can't blame yourself. In fact, doing so is wrong. It takes away their choice. It makes them simply a periphery of you. Regret what happened, but don't blame yourself. Give them the honor of accepting their choice."

"The man is right," notes Sandra, sounding begrudging as she admits it. "You make your choices. They make their choices. That is what makes you fundamentally different people. If we all made the same choices then we would be like … " she pauses, frowning as some example comes to mind she dislikes, "oh, we would be clones or … um… insects, yes? With a hive mind, and in individuality…"
"Oh, that was you two?" Liv inquires, arching an eyebrow, her expression curious. She shifts forward, straw poised at the inside of her mouth. She blows out a sigh, subconsciously creating a stream of bubbles in the liquid's surface. "Those are ridiculous questions. Of *course* I didn't force anyone and of *course* I was careful. I just don't know that I should be doing this if I'm causing more harm than good, that's all. I mean, we stopped them, but … it could have gone the other way. It could have been worse." She bristles a bit. "Hey, just because you're a clone doesn't mean you're not an individual." She stops, retreads mentally. "Sometimes I'm not too sure normal people *aren't* an awful lot like an insect hive." Covering with humor. Ahem.

Shaking his head a moment, Reg considers Liv. "You stopped them from doing what they were doing. That has repercussions. Those repercussions have repercussion. Nothing we do is minor, Liv. It can't be. We have too much power for that. By our very existence, we are nexuses in this world. We can act to do good, or we can not act and watch the world swirl around us. With the latter, we must stand by knowing that we could act and save people, do good, and we /are not/. With power comes responsibility, Liv. Don't ask yourself if you're doing harm. Ask yourself if you're doing good." A shrug, "And you are. Thus, you must continue. To do otherwise is to reject who you are. And I know you're a good person. You won't do that." The man's voice is quiet and firm. Like this is nothing less than an absolute surety.

Sandra blinks and stares at Reg for a long moment - amazed, it seems, at the reason-ability of his comments. She studies him a bit longer, before she glances at Liv and nods in agreement. "Perhaps normal people do live with a hive mind mentality. But that does not mean the rest of us should. Are we not taught that we must brace individuality, make our own choices, as Reg says, to do good in the world. One could argue that to choose /NOT/ to do good, is as much a choice as to doing ill, than actually doing so. Human or not, you have the desire to help, the reasons are inconsequential to me, but not to you. And thus, it is IMPORTANT to you to do good. You cannot make choices for others, because then you are nothing more than a tyrant, even if you are a benevolent one. And I do not believe you are a tyrant, Liv."

"No, tyrants need power first," Liv quips, a twitching of her lip that gives that an uneasy feeling of not precisely a joke. "Maybe you were taught to embrace individuality. Not so much in my family." Which as close as she's come to openly inditing her mother in the whole affair. "You're right about doing good. I suppose part of me thought this would be easy …" She pauses at the conclusion of Reg's speech, staring at him openly. She looks as if that display of faith might make her tear up a little. Then she swallows and smiles, slowly. "See … that makes one of us." She rises in a rush, the cookie crushed against the side of her shirt. "I should go. Thanks for the talk and all."

"Two, Liv. Two of us," offers Sandra with a roll of her shoulders, before nodding to the departing student.

"Nothing worthwhile is easy," Reg says simply. "That's the way of the world. It's why we look up to heroes. Not just neohumans, anyone doing good in this world. Police. Fire fighters. Soldiers…" He trails off, and shrugs. "You're welcome. Feel better," he tells the woman with a smile.

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