Steve Rogers (
stands_for_something) wrote in
nexus_sages2016-03-11 09:37 pm
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A Break in the Weather
There's an old man sitting at a table in the Forum, reading his way through a pile of mail and enjoying one of the first balmy days this part of the Nexus has had in a while. To all appearances, the letters are a series of magazine-publisher sweepstakes entry forms, if anyone feels like reading over his shoulder.
Setting one down, he sighs, then looks up and turns a question toward whomever might be around and inclined to talk. "Does anyone have a story of a particularly satisfying way they quit a job? Or if you're management, a satisfying way you dealt with a problem employee?"
Setting one down, he sighs, then looks up and turns a question toward whomever might be around and inclined to talk. "Does anyone have a story of a particularly satisfying way they quit a job? Or if you're management, a satisfying way you dealt with a problem employee?"
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"My job was to verify whether people answering surveys were being honest. It wasn't Tracy's fault that it hurt. It wasn't Mister Stark's or yours or mine or anyone's really. It doesn't seem useful to complain when there's nothing to be done about it." And gods know he's got better things to worry about.
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Gramptain rests a hand gently on one of hers. "Sometimes it helps just to talk; to know someone else understands how you feel, even if there's not much they can do. You don't have to go it alone."
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"Who says you're screwing it up?" he counters amiably. "I feel better, being able to give someone a moment's comfort."
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This is a rare moment in her life; treasure it, Gramptain.
"How are you so perfect?" The question comes out without her entirely meaning to ask it out loud. "Because. Um. You're just. You're so nice."
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Verity's question surprises a laugh out of Gramptain, and he smiles. "I'm not perfect; I've got my faults, like anyone. But I've got good intentions, I care about as much as I can, and I make sure to follow through. It's not a bad way to start."
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"It's a better place to stop than most people I know." But then, thinking about the people she knows...
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"I was never much one for stopping," he admits.
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"But?"
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"Don't you get tired?"
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"Everyone gets tired," he admits, albeit indirectly. "Sometimes, you rest while you can, sometimes you just have to push through."
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Does he know how hard she's fighting the instinct to give him a look?
"I don't think anyone would blame you if you wanted to retire." Instead of doing paperwork. Lookin' at you, solar energy solicitation.
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He admitted it.
He chuckles. "I did say I wasn't good at stopping, didn't I? SHIELD's gone in some unfortunate directions under the past couple directors. It needs someone to bring it back into line. Someone who's willing to let go of power they shouldn't have, and yes, I appreciate the irony of doing that instead of retiring."
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He's got her smiling again, so if that was a goal, mission accomplished. "So long as you appreciate it."
She glances at the paperwork again, then gives him a curious look. "Just to satisfy my curiosity... what would I have to do to get the clearance necessary to help you?" No promises, and he can imagine what kind of sacrifice dealing with SHIELD would be on her behalf. But.
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"Hard not to." A smiling Verity is a good thing, and Gramptain will take it at any opportunity.
"You'd need to work for SHIELD. Analysis branch, tier six would be the earliest you could see this stuff. Your talent might get you fast-tracked, but I understand it's less than pleasant for you to do that kind of work."
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"Mm. And there's already a Verity Willis in your world. That could get complicated."
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Impressive that his caring and not-caring both seem to make her so happy in such a short span of time.
"In our business, alternate-universe duplicates aren't all that strange," he points out. "It does complicate the vetting process somewhat."
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"Your business. I haven't signed up yet," she reminds him. "Do you have a vetting process for that kind of thing?"
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"With what you did for Clint, you at least dabble in the world-saving business," he points out mildly.
"For you, it'd probably be a series of thorough interviews, with an empath sitting in for some of them."
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"An empath?"
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"You saved a lot of lives," he counters gently. "That's not nothing. It's important to focus on what we accomplish, as well as what we don't."
"Some of the questions and interviews are designed to provoke an emotional response. Someone planning trouble might get neural implants to block a telepath, or train to encrypt the thoughts they don't want found, but those split-second gut reactions are harder to wrangle."
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Ver tucks her stray hair out of her face while he's explaining. "Ooh, you sure know how to show a girl a good time," she deadpans. "What happens to the people who can't swing it? Because I can't fly and you've got helicarriers..."
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He gives her hand a squeeze. Everyone needs a little help through their first few disasters.
"It's not a pleasant process," he admits. "Part of that's by design--to get the people who aren't really committed to the work to find something more their speed. But, 'can't swing it' in which sense?"
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"Uh... The ones who wash out, I guess. I figure the ones you catch with nefarious purposes get put somewhere I'm not allowed to know about."
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