2371/Friendship

Friendship
Date of Scene:	03 June 2015
Location:	Brockton Bay
Synopsis:	Bitter Medicine visits Defiant for advice, and ends up reflecting on the nature of their friendship.
Cast of Characters:	554, 569

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Defiant (554) has posed:
     The facility in Vancouver could be any other hi-tech computer research lab anywhere else in the world. Bland and unassuming, although the construction is certainly recent. If it wasn't for Defiant's voice greeting Bitter at the heavy security gate, it's possible that he might never have figured it out if he wasn't otherwise aware.

     Defiant relays precise, exacting instructions. Follow the green lights, do not deviate, do not touch anything. His tone carries an implied threat. Still, the gate lowers and green lights show a path.

     Inside, the building is empty although it certainly seems like an office building - just one no one works in. Following the lights, Bitter would find the basement levels. It's cold down here, probably something to do with the rows and rows of computer hardware and server racks in some of the rooms. They hum quietly as Bitter passes but the place still shows no sign of human life.

     Defiant's workshop is a clutter of carefully managed chaos. A few sets of draconic-themed green and gold powered armor sit off to one side alongside a rack of weapons. The man himself is out of his armor and he's so... human. Short shaved black hair, neatly trimmed dark beard that frames his jaw. His right arm is an obvious cybernetic prosthesis - thanks to Leviathan - and one eye and part of his face is, likewise, a cybenetic replacement. That one, he owes to Mannequin. Scars line his scalp.

     He doesn't look up from his work as Bitter approaches. "Bitter," he says, in something of a greeting.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     Alchemical Exalted are used to precision, and, unlike many Exalted, are fine with being ordered around. Bitter Medicine is no different, especially since he's someone else's guest this evening. With a case of beers in hand (rituals must be respected), he navigates the facility as he is instructed. The green lights wash over his severe features in a repeating pattern, his heavy footfalls echoing through the hallways.

     In the server room, he pays the hardware a few interested glances. Certainly, they're being put to good use here, but even though he comes from a culture that praises invention and ingenuity, he can only show so much appreciation for them. It's like the dilettante who cannot paint admiring the work of a master craftsman. He's never been one for inventions, only for cleaning up the shattered remnants of failures.

     However even his march to the workshop may be, he couldn't have been prepared for what he sees. The disorder isn't his concern; it's something one could easily expect to see in any Orichalcum Caste's workshop. And indeed, Defiant is truly a soul worthy of the comparison, a mere man whose inventions nearly killed the equivalent of a powerful god--or a weak Primordial. What catches him so off-guard is the sight of Defiant without his armor. "...Defiant." Bitter sets the six pack down with a clink.

     "Don't think I've ever seen you without the armor." Pause. "Appreciate the trust."

Defiant (554) has posed:
     Finally, Defiant looks up, setting aside screwdriver and whatever bit of technology he was working on. He looks to Bitter, to the beers, then back to Bitter. "Yes. Well, this is the closest thing I have to a home. Outside the armor, I'm just Colin. What'd you want to talk about?" As usual, straight to business. "I'm not particularly good at these conversations, you do realise."

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     "These kinds of conversations should be had between friends, from what I understand. You're the only person I consider a friend." The Exalt smiles, then gives a glance to the beers. He takes one and forces the cap off of it with his thumb. "This is part of the ritual, I think." He offers it up to Colin, then explains. "I wanted to ask you something. Something I can't ask at home. Why do you keep fighting? What do you fight /for?/"

Defiant (554) has posed:
     Colin grunts out a 'thanks' at that admission and it's clear that it's not something he's used to hearing, to the point that he probably never expects to hear it. Hell, the guy can count his friends on one hand.

     He takes the beer in his right hand, metal and glass. "Hmm," Colin says, seeming to give it some thought, probably consciously piecing together his phrasing to avoid putting his foot in his mouth.

     "It's changed. When I was Armsmaster in Brockton Bay, I saw myself as a warrior of good, or order, beating back the tide of evil. It was my duty to stop people like Empire Eighty-Eight and to destroy the Endbringers because no one else could, because too many other people had failed. I was a soldier fighting a war and it was not a war I could let anyone else lose."

     He takes a drink. "But now, I still believe much of that. I just try to avoid losing sight of the smaller elements of the picture. I fight because I'm one of the best of what I do, if you don't mind me saying so, and because I can't let anyone else suffer if I have the capability to stop it. I fight for the people who can't fight."

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     Bitter takes one for himself, opening it in the same way. He takes a sip, not really knowing what to expect, having grabbed and purchased the first thing he saw. "No," he says. "I don't mind you saying so. In fact... Before I knew what Dragon intended to do, I wanted to have you taken to Autochthonia and made into one of Autochthon's Chosen. It might not have even worked, considering the lack of information we have on what your soul did before its current incarnation. But you've done enough amazing things in this life that I was certain I had to try." He sips his, evidently deciding it's acceptable. "I'm glad I wasn't the only person who thought you were worth preserving."

     Seeing the hero without his armor almost makes the Alchemical regret coming in uniform. Perhaps it's one of the smaller things he should start to consider, that he doesn't have to project the same image all the time. That he can, every once in a while, let his hair down. Bitter frowns. "I've started to ask myself why /I/ do it. That itself is concerning. A Champion of god and state should never doubt himself, or doubt that his cause is just. But, after meeting another Exalt, I've started to do exactly that."

Defiant (554) has posed:
     Colin greets that revelation of being turned into a servant of Autochthon with his usual semi-polite grunt. "I'm not sure where my soul is," he replies, "But I am hoping, with time and effort, a man may be able to grow a new one. But, yes, Dragon has done many good things for me."

     Stepping back, Colin settles on the edge of his work table. He gestures for Bitter to take a seat wherever, not that there's much in the way of actual seating. "Six months ago, I would have said never doubt. But now? Now, doubt is necessary. Self-reflection is important. Your choices are your choices and, when I look back on the decisions I made with Leviathan, I would make them all over again. But I won't fight for any cause that isn't my own, because another person's cause will betray you. Who was this other Exalt?"

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     "The Silent Wolf of the Crimson Sea," he says as if that's a perfectly normal name. "Finna tells me she's an Abyssal Exalt, a being created expressly for destroying Creation. At the time, I was deployed to Urbania to control a protest which quickly became a riot." The Exalt pauses, then takes a seat on a nearby stool, scooting it away from the worktable it was stationed at. "The underclasses were angry over improper waste disposal by an experimental nuclear power plant... Crimson Sea arrived, with no purpose other than to exacerbate the riot and murder civilians. I attempted to stop her."

     "She was leagues above me, easily able to kill me, and yet she didn't. Instead, she... toyed with me." He seems to find the idea hard to swallow. "Tested me. If she'd really wanted, she could have ended me. Instead, she mocked my resolve, mocked me for bothering to use nonlethal riot containment procedures... for protecting the civilians. I've always known that the Soulsteel Caste isn't Autochthon's most popular creation. In my ten years of service, I've done some pretty terrible things, necessary evils to ensure the survival of my people."

     "Cleaning up the failed schemes and experiments of the other castes, tearing out heresy and corruption by whatever means necessary. Sending subversives to reeducation complexes... or terminating souls with a history of recidivism. It's what we're built for. We sweep away the garbage and filth so that the rest of Autochthonia can have their utopia. I've always known that the mortals' reverence of us was mingled with fear. There are few stories or propaganda posters depicting our triumphs. I always told myself that I could stomach whatever fear or hatred others had of me, as long as they were alive to despise me."

     Bitter takes a sip of his beer. From his understanding, the substance is supposed to somehow ease the relation of these revelations, but he doesn't feel any better. He sighs, then looks at Colin directly. "She said I was a monster, playing at being something I wasn't. And when I spared a glance to the fleeing people I'd saved from her gunshots... I didn't see gratitude. I saw hatred and fear, as much for me as for her."

Defiant (554) has posed:
     Colin just nods, it's the slow, precise movement of someone who seems to understand perfectly. "Just like Mannequin," he says, voice low. The Slaughterhouse doll-killer had said that he was exactly the same as Colin in their confrontation. That is, before he had opened Colin's gut like a fish. "He could have killed me but chose not to. I know what you mean."

     "We do the things no one else can, we're similar in a lot of ways. But people don't always understand. I've decided that I'm not always the best at determining a proper course of action - this is something I've let Dragon handle, becoming more of an enforcer and less of a leader. I always thought I could deal with hatred if it meant that they'd be safe. Perhaps we are both monsters in a way," Colin supposes, taking another drink. "But we can always choose to do good. There is a distinction though, about heroes. It's one people forget. In the oldest legends, heroes weren't people who did /good/ things. They did /great/ things. There's a distinction there. I think we are both the sort to do great things and, in the process, hope we do good."

     He tilts his head a fraction, as if listening to someone only he can hear. "Did you expect gratitude? It sounds like their reaction was something of a surprise."

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     "Mannequin. I remember that fight. It made me question the value of my friendship with you." He says it with a smile. "Of friendship at all, actually. Arriving at the time I did, wondering if I was too late. I thought I was. I felt rage, hatred towards him. And, something I'd never felt before." He turns the bottle around in his hand, reading the ingredients in an attempt to make sense of them. His yellow eyes peer up at Colin with a curious expression. "Vulnerable," he admits. "I've always kept others at a distance, and since then I've continued to do so. The thought of investing so much into understanding someone else, only to feel that crushing emptiness at the loss of a friend... It frightens me. I never spoke to you about how I felt, because I didn't want to appear weak or unable to perform my duty."

     Bitter finishes his beer, then peers over at the table he set the beers down again. He might be contemplating another. He's definitely contemplating Colin's words on the nature of a hero. He wants to do good--there's no doubt about it. Maybe, like Colin says, a monster can be a noble beast. The Exalt nods in agreement with the cape, feeling a small bit better about his choices.

     "I don't think I ever expect gratitude," he says after some silence and consideration. "It's a rare treat. One of the times I genuinely feel like I've done good." Until he convinces himself he doesn't deserve it, anyway. But maybe he should start to throw that feeling away, and strive for greatness in the hopes of doing good? Ultimately, it comes down to whether or not he believes he's deserving of rest, not praise--because one gives way to the other. Can he stop fighting for long enough to see who he's helped? "I just... got more than what I expected. I expected fear. I'm built to frighten. What I didn't expect was being lumped in with the same creature I was struggling in vain to destroy. Because I suppressed their uprising, because I forcibly dispersed them, I was no better than a murderer I was trying in vain to destroy."

     "Maybe I'm overthinking it. But, Colin... when you look into the eyes of the people you've saved, and see only hate? It affects you."

Defiant (554) has posed:
     "You're not the only one who thought that in the wake of that fight," Colin responds, somewhat cryptically. The talk about maintaining a distance, of the terrible vulnerability of /caring/ strikes a chord with Colin. "I understand that, too," is all he says.

     Picking up on Bitter's contemplation of another beer, he uncaps one with the fingers of his cybernetic hand and slides it towards the Alchemical.

     "Now, there's a difference. I always expected gratitude. That the people /owed/ me for what I did. I was angry for a long time, when I was put under house arrest in the aftermath of almost killing Leviathan. I didn't understand why, when I saw their eyes, all I saw was hatred and disgust. It affected me. Made me think."

     Colin brushes a thumb against his beard. "People will hate you for getting in their way. You had to quell the uprising and disperse them to preserve the peace. The people there, with their grievances about the nuclear plant, legitimate as they may be, don't understand the necessity of it. The situation could have gone out of control and led to people being hurt, particularly if someone like Crimson Sea had gotten involved." He's doing that thing where it's almost like he's taking dictation. Hmm.

     His voice relaxes again, "In Brockton Bay, I recieved death threats from members of Empire Eighty-Eight for preventing them from killing members of races they deemed inferior. But that hate is meaningless. It's the hatred of children and psychopaths who are frustrated that you're stopping their fun. You have to decide whose opinion you value, otherwise, you'll have trouble accomplishing anything of worth."

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     Bitter accepts the offered beer with a smile. "Thanks," he says. It's very possible he's thanking Colin for more than just the beer. Gladly, he offers one back.

     "The house arrest affair," he says, reminiscing. "That must have been a difficult time for you. I remember trying to think of what I would have done. At the time, I was sure I'd have done the same thing. Killing Kaiser. He was undoubtedly scum. I thought it was the height of stupidity to lock you up." He pauses, drumming his hand against the nearby worktable. "Now that we've had this discussion, it becomes clear to me how fortuitous your imprisonment was. Without the appearance of punishment, there would be no reason for cooperation in Endbringer attacks. No reason for some member of Empire Eighty Eight to refrain from killing a hero of a supposedly inferior race."

     "I understand what you're trying to say. And I think I'm ready to accept it. Being a hero, and doing great things... I've been unable to achieve that because I've had a misconception of what a hero was. I thought it meant having people's adoration all the time. No one can have that, but I thought I was alone in that regard--that men like you and Stark were an ideal I could never achieve."

     "Instead of trying to be an impossible ideal, I should decide who sees me as a monster and who sees me as a hero. And I think I'm okay with some people thinking I'm a monster, if it means I can be a hero to the people who really matter."

Defiant (554) has posed:
     "The world is a better place without Kaiser," Colin replies. He nods then, as Bitter accurately sums up the actual issue with Armsmaster's moment of hubris - the loss of the uneasy 'cold war' between hero and villain.

     "I would wager," Colin says carefully, "That Stark is a better man than I. We don't belong in the same category. He has the admiration of a celebrity - I have the respect of someone dangerous. I used to be jealous of that, I'm not anymore."

     To the next part, Colin nods. "Yes. That's pretty much it. We're people, not symbols, and that means we need to be aware that we are flawed. I may never conquer mine, but I will make the best attempt I can. You're a hero, a good one - and the fact that you doubt is what proves it."

     Pause.

     "That's what Dragon told me, when I was unsure about becoming Defiant. She's listening, by the way," he says, like an afterthought. "I assumed you wouldn't mind."

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     "Dragon? No, I don't mind. Maybe I would have, at the start of this conversation, but I don't now. I kind of suspected it a ways in, actually. You tilted your head in an unusual way at one point... I didn't want to mention it." He chuckles. "Besides. It's better for her to be listening in than another Sentinel," says the Alchemical. "I wanted to have this conversation here to get away from Autochthonia. The Soulsteel Caste is never more fierce when policing its own... and some would say that doubt in one's purpose is the beginning of heresy. I came to you because we understand each other, and I hoped you'd be able to reassure me of my purpose in a way no Exalt could. I wasn't wrong. I feel... lighter. But stronger."

     The Exalt smiles at Colin. "I've heard you two are an item now," he says. "Maybe if I'd spoken up sooner, she wouldn't have beaten me to the punch." He sets the empty beer on the table, not at all burdened by his sudden verbal expression of affection towards Colin. "I'm not /too/ broken up about it. You seem like a good pair--and if this is what friendship is like, it might be worth taking the risk every once in a while. Being vulnerable. You know?" He shrugs.

Defiant (554) has posed:
     "Yes," Colin replies, "She helps me with phrasing what I want to say without succumbing to my tunnel vision or general insensitivity. In the armor, the tic is less noticable, I suppose. Lighter, stronger. Well, if you'll pardon a butchered metaphor, you need to melt down iron to get steel." That makes sense, right? Yeah, Colin seems to think it does.

     The next comment, however, he seems to ignore for a few seconds, hiding any response behind a drink from his beer. He's not good about people complimenting him at the best of times - complimenting his work or his achievements, sure, but not /him/ - and so hesitates for a few moments more.

     He's saved from having to say anything by Dragon's Newfoundland accent. "You would have had to speak up very quickly, and maybe throw in a life-saving surgery. But you did seem to be heading in that direction. Should I be worried?" She's tall, almost as tall as Colin is, with brown skin, dark hair and facial features that are so average in their lack of obvious ethnicity as to be unsettling. She's not pretty and not ugly just... overwhelmingly average. By the grease on her hands and coveralls, she was working on something mechanical.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     Bitter Medicine snickers. "It's nice to meet you in person," he says. For someone who spends so much of his time brooding, it's a surprisingly human action, that expression of humor. Not nearly so sardonic as his usual manner. He came in uniform--but not all parts of a uniform are seen with the naked eye. "No," he says honestly, then pauses to consider an elaboration.

     "Happiness is a precious and rare thing. More scarce than Starmetal. You two seem to have found some of it, so there's no reason for me to interfere. As long as he's happy," says the Alchemical with a nod to Colin, "I am. I would've expected to be jealous, you know, but I'm really... not. Disappointed, sure. But not jealous. Colin's taught me something valuable today--and I think maybe you had a part in it. I may have missed my chance with him, but I'm not afraid to open up anymore. So... down the road, if I meet someone... I won't be so frightened to be vulnerable."

     "If you two don't mind, I need to go home and meditate on what I've learned."

Defiant (554) has posed:
     Dragon smiles, but there's this strange undercurrent to it - like Bitter had come to a very dangerous junction and chosen the right choice. "I had to drag him to some of his revelations," she replies with good-natured teasing. "He's another of my works in progress. And hearing you say something like that, seeing something like this, is far more valuable than anything else I've built. Thank you, Bitter Medicine, truly."

     Colin nods. "I'll keep your security clearance active. If you want to talk, you know how to find me. I've never been one for meditation-" Beyond working on his technology for hours at a time, of course, "-but I hope you find some sort of helpful perspective. Take care."

     A pleasantry, meant without even a fragment of sarcasm. How very unlike Colin.