Day at the Office (open)

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh had little issues with making his passion for social justice known, regardless of whether or not other people found it appropriate or acceptable. "Of course the idea is fine. Or the idea would be fine, if it didn't involve a lack of choices. I realize that for some of the students the faculty and even other students can act in place of their original support structure, but not everyone is that fortunate. Adults you don't know who work for an institution that kidnapped you and other students struggling with their own powers and identity are ill equipped to truly prove useful for most children." Sean was very obviously an exception to this rule, just as he was an exception to most rules.

"The names will cease being socially acceptable," He clarified, unwilling to back down on his linguistic argument. Just because nobody else cared didn't mean he was going to ignore the fact that this was a very real problem. "That doesn't mean people won't still use them, merely that they will be socially ostracized if they use inappropriate names in public. That's a decent start, of course, but it isn't good enough." Progress could and would be made, however; he only had to look at the great strides in social justice during his lifetime alone.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully at Cobalt's response. A good place to set up and do our job... There was something about Pilot Ridge that seemed to draw meta-humans, even after they had graduated...and even when their opinion of Hammel was less than friendly. At least, he assumed that Cobalt was a meta-human simply from his inference that he had been called names. It was unfair! People like Sean and Dr. Prideaux and Mr. Weaver oughtn't be called names simply because they had abilities most of the population didn't. There were plenty of other abilities that people accepted without question that were rarities, but because they weren't attributed to genetics but instead to talent or effort they were considered acceptable.

"Me?" He replied, a bit taken aback at having his question directed back at him. "My parents could no longer live alone and retirement communities in Vermont are a great deal cheaper than they are in Manhattan. And I have a good friend who lives in Pilot Ridge, so as I already had to move my parents I decided it would be optimal if I were close enough to them to visit when needed and close enough to spend time with my friend."

[Cobalt Weaver]

“Exactly!” Cobalt smacked the desk with his fist for emphasis, “That’s exactly what it is. It’s kidnapping. And the sooner people realize this, the better off children will be.”

Cobalt leaned forward in his chair. Was this a debate he smelled? Excellent. “The more import people give names and labels, the harder it will be to ultimately dispel them, though. If you focus instead on teaching the next generation of people about their neighbors, the names will become obsolete, simply through the evolutionary virtue of the English language. There used to be a thousand more insulting things to call one another, but they’re extinct now because we no longer had any use for them, because more people became educated and aware. However, if we keep calling attention to the more benign names, we may be actually hurting our cause. We’re not allowing the names to pass naturally from polite society.

“Now,” Cobalt held up a finger to fend off the argument he anticipated coming from the other man, “I am absolutely not saying that we should not protest against the names we are called. They are segregational and hurtful to others, especially our children. I just think that calling too much attention to semantics might actually do more harm than good.” He leaned back and actually grinned then; a sharp little curve of the lips. It looked a little more predatory than friendly, “But I give you credit: I wouldn’t have even considered the term meta-human being a problem until you brought it up.”

“Ah.” Cobalt nodded his understanding. It was a good reason to move back to Pilot Ridge. Family and friends were important, and god knows if he could… “That’s reasonable.”

[Joshua Bernstein]

"Adolescence is already a turbulent time, and snatching children away from their families doesn't do anyone any good. I fail to see why this is still considered an acceptable practice. There's no other demographic this would be allowed for without a huge outcry, but apparently when the children being kidnapped have unknown abilities suddenly their rights don't matter anymore."

He inhaled deeply, prepared to argue the younger man into submission in regards to language, literally biting his tongue when he was cut off. He winced, tasting blood. "Mmm, I think people should pay more attention to the implications of the words and labels they're using." He protested, ignoring the pain in his abused tongue, "Few people are naturally empathetic enough to be aware of how their words impact other people and they need to be taught or things won't change. Without any effort on the part of those who are already educated the ignorant will never even realize the mistakes they are making. As for the hostile, some of them are only hostile out of ignorance, and they also need the education. Those who are hostile but not ignorant, they're an entirely separate problem, unfortunately, but just because those people will deliberately bring up offensive terminology is not a good reason to refuse education for those lacking it."

He paused in his tirade as thunder rumbled immediately overhead, followed by what sounded like buckets being dumped on the building's roof. He peered toward the door. "Oh, my. Is it raining already?" So much for riding back in that; he'd get soaked the moment he walked out the door, never mind if he tried to ride his bicycle all the way back to work.

[Leila Gold]

Leila glanced outside at the rain. She had been enjoying the adorable in front of her but decided it was time for her to step in again.

"Wow," she said, standing up and stretching. "It looks like it's really pouring out there. I don't guess anyone else will be coming in for a while. I vote we retire to the back room and go after some of the donuts I've got stored."

Athena rolled over onto her feet again and padded after Leila into the kitchen. Leila poured her leftover cold coffee into the sink and set the mug on the side. She reached into the pantry and pulled out a box of donuts. "I like glazed, so that's most of 'em, but there's some other ones in there. Help yourselves."

She pulled out a chair at the table and sat down.

"You know, Josh, I was thinking about it. Your argument about the term "Meta-human." And is there a problem, in your opinion, with just describing people as "powered" or "not powered"? It's not an actual name for people, it's just a description. Like, you know, I'm Christian, I'm straight, and I'm powered. Descriptions. No actual terms for the people needed, because it seems that once you categorize people that's when the problems arise."

"Anyway. Just a thought." She took a big bite of her donut. "But I think that's enough about that subject. You need to tell me, now, something more about yourself. Let's start with the basics. Favorite color and why."

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh chewed his lower lip, glancing between the downpour outside and the kitchen. He definitely wasn't returning to his own offices anytime soon. He hoped none of his coworkers noticed -- or at the very least that none of them would comment. He had intended to come and visit the new law firm on his lunch break and return to his own promptly; he couldn't be blamed for the weather! He could be blamed for not bothering to check the weather channel's website, but he hadn't taken the weather into consideration at all and so he was stuck.

After a moment he followed after Leila and her corgi, hovering over the box of donuts indecisively. He was hungry, now that food had been mentioned, but they hadn't originally been intended for him. Still, the young woman seemed sincere in her offer. "Donuts for lunch?" He asked, searching about for a napkin so that he wouldn't shower crumbs all over someone else's office. "What an excellent idea." Any office that had a constant supply of donuts was good in his books, even if they disagreed as to the necessity of his semantic arguments.

He sighed and shrugged as he finally located the napkins, swiping one of the donuts for his lunch. "It's an improvement over meta-human and baseline-human." He told her. "Not entirely satisfactory, but it has less offensive connotations." He could have continued on that topic, but she tossed another, more confusing question at him.

"....Favorite color?" He looked up to stare at Leila blankly. Had she asked his opinion on any political matter he would have had a an immediate answer, but for this one simple question he was at a loss. "Favorite..." He narrowed his eyes as a horrible suspicion arose in his mind. "You're not asking this so you can give me some nickname, are you?" He demanded, wondering if the young woman had plans to name everyone she met after the colors of the rainbow. "

[Cobalt Weaver]

Cobalt glanced at the window, surprised but a little pleased that it was raining. He was surprisingly glad that Josh was stranded here until the rain let up. Cobalt had a car, he could feasibly drive Josh back, but he figured that this was a good opportunity to make some good allies for work. He watched as he and Leila went to go and retrieve donuts. He wasn’t hungry yet and when he was, he had a bag of M&Ms that he didn’t intend on sharing with anyone.

Arguing with Josh was interesting, mostly because their viewpoints were alarmingly similar and they were both equally passionate about their opinions. If they weren’t so very much on the same side, Cobalt was pretty sure he’d despise the man. As it was, if he and Josh were to pool their resources, they might make a huge difference with meta-human rights in general and Hammel policies in specific. And it wasn’t as though the man wasn’t pleasant to be around. No, the only thing was that Josh was awfully… excitable for being five years his senior. And that wasn’t so much a problem as it was bafflement.

He snickered at Leila’s attempts at ending the argument, but was strangely grateful that she did. As out of character as it was, Cobalt was more than willing to let the argument between him and the older man die. Now, this did not mean he was going to “agree to disagree”, because he abhorred that phrase and idea as a cop-out and a sacrifice of one’s ideals to keep the peace. This was more of a… pause in the argument. An indefinite one. Yes.

At Josh’s suspicious reaction, Cobalt promptly inhaled his mouthful of coffee in laughter. He tried to unsuccessfully hide his mirth by coughing into his arm, but he was being pretty unconvincing.

“Sorry, sorry.” He coughed into his sleeve, schooling his features back into something a little more dignified, “I wouldn’t worry about Leila’s ulterior motives. She only calls me Blue because Cobalt’s a shade of blue. It’s not a new thing.” He coughed again, clearing whatever coffee was left in his lungs. “And don’t tell anyone,” He leaned over in a mock-whisper, a rare good mood coming over him, “But my favorite color is actually purple anyways, and she hasn’t done anything with that information.”

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious about how effortlessly the other man had put him at ease. He didn’t usually choke on himself laughing, and his humor was usually much drier than this. He wasn’t sure if he liked this or not, but he decided to wait and see how this played out.

[Leila Gold]

Leila smiled politely at Josh, then smirked a little at Cobalt.

"Didn't know your favorite color actually, Blue. Thanks for letting me know."

She turned back to Josh.

"No worries, I won't give you a funny nickname. Blue came with his, actually--that wasn't any of my doing. In fact, one might ask why he has the name at all."

She shrugged. "Actually, I was just kind of curious. But since you're so suspicious about it...um...I'm wanting the color because...I'm planning to throw you a surprise birthday party, and I want to theme it all in your favorite color. Sure."

Mostly she just wanted to know what color tie to get him for Christmas. But why in the world would she ever admit something so mundane?

"Meanwhile, my favorite color is orange. I especially love the orange of autumn, when it's more a mixture of the red and the gold and the orange of the leaves, all mixing to make one huge splatter of color that, in the end, appears almost golden. Kind of fitting, right? But I swear I didn't pick that because of my name." She held up her hand as though taking a vow.

"Since you're so opposed to the favorite color question, perhaps we could try another. Do you have a favorite book, and why is it your favorite or why do you not have a favorite?"

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh couldn't understand why Cobalt was laughing. It wasn't funny, he didn't want to be stuck with a color nickname the rest of his acquaintance with Blue and Gold law firm! Unless he hired on as a partner, in which case he could understand that they might desire some uniformity, he was going to insist that they stick with Josh. It had served him well for half a century, no need to go changing it now.

"You don't even know when my birthday is..." He pointed out, although the tone of her voice and her posture said she wasn't at all serious. She probably was just curious. Oops. Didn't he feel silly now!

He eyed the box of donuts longingly for a moment; would a second be acceptable? He didn't want to take advantage, but he was awful hungry...after a few seconds he snatched another one, shoving it into his mouth while Leila explained her own favorite color in great detail. Who bothered to think about colors with such seriousness? He certainly didn't; some colors looked nice, others didn't. That was the extent of his thoughts on colors.

Books, on the other hand, he could discuss more easily than colors. "The Annals of Imperial Rome by Tacitus, no question." He informed her, almost cheerful after the suspicion he'd showed at her previous inquiry. "It is a great reminder that todays political landscape could be far worse." Political suicide was no longer a literal danger, but instead a metaphorical one. The most danger one could pose to opponents was calling them names and slandering them in the news rather than charging them with treason. Not that politicians couldn't try to stick the name of traitor to their opponents, but it would only result in lost elections rather than murder or isolation on rocky isles. Sometimes he needed that reminder.

"And what is your favorite book, Ms. Gold? If I have to answer, so do you."

[Leila Gold]

Leila nodded at Josh's book selection. She'd read that, but hadn't found it that fascinating. Still, she could see why it might appeal to someone like Josh. Not that she really knew him that well yet, but from what she'd seen so far she thought she could form a relatively decent analysis of his personality.

"Actually, Josh, I don't have to answer. I will, but first let me explain myself. You have not yet told me what your favorite color is, when I and Cobalt have both answered, me with some considerable evidence. Cobalt did not even need to answer because the question was not posed to him. Thus I could ask for you to answer that question before I answer this, or I could ask that Cobalt answer this question as well since those are the terms that you have currently set. I will not, but I would like you to be aware that I would be well within my rights to do so."

Leila smiled and took a sip of her coffee, then set it down and leaned forward on the table. "And honestly, my favorite book is constantly changing. Earlier today, I was in the mood for The Prince. Now, I'm thinking I'm of a mind to reread Ovid's Metamorphosis. I consider those my favorites. But overall, I think the one that most often comes up as my favorite, and thus could be considered my all-time favorite is...probably Othello."

Leila looked over at Cobalt. "What about you, sir? Any questions you would like to ask our new friend here? Any stories you'd like to tell?" She kicked him a little under the table and smiled. "You know, anything about how you became a lawyer, stuff like that?"

In her experience, stories were a fantastic way of introducing yourself to someone new. She would tell a few herself, but she got the feeling that nobody in this group really cared to hear about the time that she won second at the rodeo or how she, as a kindergartner, creamed a fourth grader. Surely these men had much more interesting things to say.

[Cobalt Weaver]

Cobalt had read The Annals of Imperial Rome and had enjoyed it. Moderately. He hated politics when it didn’t directly relate to his work. In his mind, politics equaled work. And when he read, he didn’t want to have anything to do with work. That being said, he appreciated Tacitus’ work greatly and was a little impressed at Josh’s having read it. But still. Politics gave him a headache and he had quite enough of those already. Despite his general aversion, he was rather fond of Cicero. In fact, he read the works of the Roman lawyer frequently. In the original Latin. Thank you, traditional Catholic upbringing coupled with the love of a useless language.

Cobalt rolled his eyes at his unruly intern. “Leila,” He said, leaning forward, “It’s okay. It’s just a favorite color. Maybe Josh doesn’t even have one.” He gave her an I-know-what-you’re-doing look. She did this when she first started working for him, as well: a smiling rebuttal and a challenge just to let her audience know that she was still to be taken seriously. It won them cases in court, but it was a little silly here, when her audience was mostly well aware of her competency. “And since when do you call me sir?” He jumped a little when she kicked him under the table. So naturally, he kicked her back. He could be four years old if Leila was going to be. He gave her the Look again. This was something else she always did. She was never really content with what he told her about his past. She knew there was more, and not knowing drove her crazy. If he was being honest, it was a little funny. So he decided to stick with what he already told her. Because he doubted Josh actually cared. “Well, there’s not a whole lot to tell. I decided to be an attorney when I was a kid, I graduated Hammel, went to law school here in Vermont, moved out to Chicago to practice for a while, got saddled with an intern, then moved back here.” He quirked an eyebrow in her direction. “My life isn’t all that exciting, Leila. You know this.”

He turned to Josh, “And I’m not going to extend this round of Twenty Questions, don’t worry. I have given up trying to control Leila, but I wont ask you endless questions.”

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh wrinkled his forehead at Leila in concern as she went off on him about not answering her question about his favorite color. "I didn't realize one needed evidence in order to have a favorite color." He said at last. "But if you absolutely must have an answer...." He trailed off, thinking a moment. "Green, but not anything bright. Something closer to brown. What's the word people use for that? Neutral?" He almost added There, are you happy now? but felt that wouldn't be very mature and so held his tongue.

"I admit I haven't read Othello since Senior High." And from what he remembered it had been painful to read; death by miscommunication was not his idea of entertainment. "Shall I start referring to you as Desdemona? She was supposed to be blonde, wasn't she?"

He nodded as Cobalt told the abbreviated version of his life story. "So you've always wanted to be an attorney? Did your father practice law?" If Cobalt had been a bit younger he would have included both parents in that question, but female lawyers in his parents generation had been a rarity. "My parents were always very interested in equality and civil rights, although neither of them were involved in law as a career." He explained, eyes darting toward Leila as he said this; he was sure if he didn't offer his own story she would drag one out of him. "But if it weren't for them I don't know that I would have decided to become an attorney. Actually, I don't really know what I would have done..." He'd never seriously considered any alternative career paths and he honestly had no idea what he would have done with his life if things had gone differently.

"What made you decide to go to Chicago? Or is that where you're from?" He added that last question rather belatedly, only realizing as he asked that Cobalt was unlikely to have grown up in Vermont. After all, Hammel recruited from all over the United States; just because he had stayed in one city his entire life didn't mean other people did the same.

[Cobalt Weaver]

Cobalt rolled his eyes at Josh’s explanation of color. “Don’t encourage her, Josh. She’ll be insufferable for the rest of the day.” He gave Leila a smug look, quirking an eyebrow. He chuckled at Josh’s request to call Leila Desdemona. “You should,” He responded, leaning back in his chair, “I know I will.” Though he certainly hoped that Leila would be smarter at communication and relationship decisions than Desdemona. He’d also read Othello in school, and just found it ridiculously depressing.

He froze at Josh’s next question. He didn’t really feel comfortable talking about his past for no real discernable reason. Certainly, there were some things about him that he felt entirely justified keeping to himself. But the fact that he didn’t have any parents wasn’t exactly something he needed to keep secret. It wasn’t as though he was ashamed of being an orphan, because he thought that was stupid. And it wasn’t as though he was very sad about the fact that he didn’t know the identity of his birth family; he’d gotten over that when he was much younger. While he’d probably always wonder, it wasn’t something that he dwelled on. Still. It just felt that if he started divulging personal information, he’d just end up saying more than he wanted. And he’d only just met Josh. No matter how much he liked the man already, it would probably be in his right to say “none of your business”. Still. He could feel Leila’s eyes on him, and he knew she was listening intently. This wasn’t something he talked about with her either.

Still. Josh had been forthcoming with his own story, and it wasn’t as though this was any big deal. “Ah. I don’t know.” Cobalt said finally, “I don’t know who my parents are. I grew up in a children’s home in New Jersey before I was picked up by Hammel.” He shot Josh an ironic look. “Anyways, it’s not something I generally share, so…” He shrugged vaguely, hoping they’ll understand that he didn’t want them to one: talk about it anymore and two: not share this with anyone else.

“Anyway.” Cobalt briskly turned to the other subject, “I got a scholarship to go to law school in Chicago, and I took it. And I loved it there, for a while.” He shrugged, “I was there for years, and I guess I’m just getting too old. The pacing was starting to get a little too fast for me. Also, you know, Pilot Ridge is famous for its metahuman rights topic so.” He pushed his glasses up and looked up at Josh, “So what about you? Where’d you grow up?”

[Leila Gold]

Leila made a mental note to buy a green tie at some point, and maybe some socks. Socks were always a good thing to get people, or so she'd heard.

"Sir," she said to Cobalt, "I will call you 'sir,' when I feel like it, sir." Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to antagonize your boss. But then, no one could say he didn't deserve it. And really, was he her boss? Was he able to control her at all? Ever?

"I don't recommend you call me Desdemona, Josh," she said. "I may have to start referring to you, then, by a character, and you'd probably not be happy with whatever I chose. Perhaps Polonius." She grinned evilly. "No, Leila is fine, and I will call you Mr. Bernstein."

She sighed as Cobalt basically ignored her prompting about his life story. Someday, she promised herself. Someday I'll get it out of him. Josh, though, was much more forthcoming. She leaned forward on the table and listened eagerly to his short little history. She almost went to give him a hug at the end, but decided ultimately that it wasn't appropriate at this time. Later.

Then. Then it happened. Josh asked Cobalt about his history. And Blue, well, he couldn't really say no, now, could he? She struggled to keep the smile from her face, instead settling for an expression that she hoped showed her interest without making her look like she was about to either laugh or dance around in joy. She didn't have a mirror, so she wasn't sure she was successful, but she did try.

When he did tell his story, glossing over it quickly while still dropping tempting tid-bits, Leila had to actually grab hold of the table to keep herself from running over and hugging him. It really wasn't a good idea to turn this all into an emotional scene.

Maybe she should have been the one to tell the stories.

[Joshua Bernstein]

"New Jersey! Well! We didn't grow up that far away from one another." Josh realized, then added by way of explanation (and in answer to the other's question), "I grew up in New York City. Spent my entire life there with the exception of most of this year." He didn't comment on the revelation that Cobalt was an orphan and had grown up in a home; the other man's disinclination to continue that line of conversation was obvious enough, even to him. "I didn't even go far for college," He admitted with a laugh, "I went to NYU. I probably could have continued living with my parents most of that time, but I wanted to be independent. You know how that is. I'm sure they would have been thrilled to know how many classes I cut to go to demonstrations. Or the number of times I skipped synagogue because I was hungover." Among other things. It had taken a bit before responsibility had kicked in, encouraged by the realization that his grades were not exactly what he needed to pass.

"I met my best friend in college. We lived together for a bit. If it weren't for him, Pilot Ridge wouldn't even be on my radar." He wouldn't take the topic of meta-human rights nearly so personally if he hadn't met Sean, either. "He works for the Institute," He grimaced slightly, "He's normally very sensible, but when it comes to Hammel he's very attached. I understand that his experiences there were positive, but it would be nice if he could grasp that kidnapping isn't the best way to go about helping people...."

He shrugged, indicating he wasn't going to elaborate further on those arguments. "Anyway, my mother isn't able to care for my father by herself anymore so I was looking for affordable retirement living, and it turns out that Burlington had a nice community that specializes in Alzheimer's and memory care. I didn't think it was fair to move them somewhere away from family, but there's almost nothing in the City that I could afford. Burlington isn't too far from here, though, and as you say, the meta-human rights issues mean I don't need a midlife career switch."

He crumpled his napkin in one hand, looking about for a trash receptacle. "Chicago seems so far away. I suppose if your experience with Hammel wasn't ahh positive you would want to go somewhere that wasn't close, though. Did they seek you out or did you apply?"

[Cobalt Weaver]

To say that Cobalt was grateful the other man didn’t pry into his past—the man didn’t even acknowledge it—would be an understatement. He was extremely relieved Josh was at least tactful enough to allow Cobalt his privacy, such as it was. He’d seen the look on Leila’s face. He figured he would have some kind of conversation with her later about asking annoying questions in front of guests, but there was no way she was going to let that information go without looking for more clarification. Josh, on the other hand, proceeded to talk about his past, allowing Cobalt to relax and listen to the other man’s history.

“New York City?” Cobalt repeated, nodding slightly, “No kidding. I visited there before, briefly. It’s a nice place. I always liked it.” And it was true; New York was unfortunately crowded and tightly-packed, but it was always vibrant and full of culture, and Cobalt always enjoyed that when he had occasion to visit. He shrugged at Josh’s self-depreciating statement about staying home for college, “Well, NYU’s a good school, so you really didn’t need to go that far. It’s not like there were many good law schools in Vermont.” He laughed, entertaining himself with the idea of Josh at a rally. It made perfect sense.

“Oh yeah?” Cobalt said in response to Josh’s mention of a college friend. Then grimaced sympathetically at his mention of his friend’s occupation, “Ah. Well, you know. Company loyalty and all that. Most metas think that Hammel is a godsend and for some of these kids, it really is but…” Cobalt shrugged, “It becomes a problem when people refuse to see its faults. Especially the staff. What does your friend do at Hammel?”

Cobalt listened to Josh’s explanation about his parents’ housing situation. “Oh. Does your father have Alzheimer’s? I’m sorry, that’s really rough.” Alzheimer’s was one of the only things that made Cobalt a little nervous about getting old. Losing your mind was a terrifying thought.

He saw Josh looking for a trash can and he pushed the trash can by his desk towards Josh with his shoe. “Here you go.” He gave Josh an ironic look at the man’s assumption about Cobalt’s time at Hammel. “Yeah, Hammel and I never really got along. So I basically applied everywhere I could to get out of Vermont and never look back. You can see how well that went.” He grinned wryly. “But yeah, I applied to University of Chicago and…” He shrugged, “I got in with scholarship because of my grades. I basically took the opportunity and ran with it.”

Cobalt gestured to Leila, “Leila went to University of Chicago for grad school, didn’t you?” He looked at her, hoping she’d stay on the safe topic of schools and why Hammel was in serious need of improvement and away from dangerous topics like family history and childhood stories. Besides, it’s not like Leila wanted to know about the numerous failed escape attempts from Hammel when he was a kid. No, Leila wouldn’t be interested about that kind of stuff. He was a stupid kid.