Tinker, Tailor, Hero, Spy [Modplot/Network IC Post] [Part 2] [Set after the ambush ends]

[legionnpcs]

[Things are not good -- and that's the understatement of the century. Just about everyone got walloped and the native Legionnaires were at the epicenter of that collective wumping, targeted first by the Fatal Five in the hopes that with them out of the way the rookies would be easy to pick off.]

[Thankfully, the Fatal Five were wrong. The rookies took their lumps but they held their ground.]

Matter-Eater Lad here.

[His glasses only partly hide the massive shiner he's got, and he's wearing a neck brace. Hooray. Fortunately, those are much less bulky in the glorious robot future.]

Alright, ladies and gents and variations thereupon, I think it goes without saying that what just happened was the pits. Right now, half of us more experienced Legionnaires are in Medbay and Kid Q is still trapped in a time loop, even if we've managed to relocate her to Legion World. Brainiac thinks he can fix it but he's still a mess because his personality inhibitors got blown and he has to fix those first before he can even hope to think straight again.

Everyone's respective boo boos aren't the only thing we have to worry about though. The Fatal Five knowing all our weaknesses, and some of what they said, suggested there's a mole on Legion World passing them private medical scans and tactical data. Since the Science Police had jurisdiction, they've already arrested a suspect.

[He tilts his omnicom and they can see that the Science Police are in the background, arguing viciously with Timber Wolf, Officer Erin, and Umbra, and trying to drag away a handcuffed Rocket, who's wasting no time in arguing with them, too.]

["Hey! Hey, watch the sui--what do you mean, hand over my gun? That's my gun! I mean, I got more, but it's my gun! I told you, I ain't a spy! Or a mole, or whatever stupid word you wanna use! I didn't do it!" A pause. "Do I look like a sp--yes, I know spies don't look like spies, that's whole point, but you know what I mean!"]

[Back on Tenzil's face again.]

It's totally bogus. The only evidence against Rocket they have is all digital sign-ins and video, which is so easy to doctor in this time period that a Terellian spongebeast could do it. No physical evidence or witnesses. No prints or DNA at the console he was supposedly accessing the data from. But they're not listening to us.

[Rocket has not stopped arguing in the background. "You're all assholes. Complete friggin' assholes. Have I told you that? 'Cause I feel like I should. Shouldn't you be out policing science, instead of arresting people who didn't do anything?"]

[Tenzil lowers his voice.] Which means we're gonna have to take a few things into our own hands.

[The last thing they hear from Rocket as he's dragged off is: "--and somebody remember to go water the plants while I'm dealing with this shit! I come back and they're all dead, somebody's gonna get their ass shot, then bit by a flytrap!"]

[Tenzil goes into the Legion Leader's office for more privacy.]

The chances of any of you rookies wanting to take down the entire Legion, when it means Chronoblivion would make the multiverse go kaput, are slim. We think Rocket's innocent -- and if he's not, there needs be evidence that's a whole lot more reliable before charges are brought.

Kid Q's out of the loop -- stuck in the loop as it were -- so as Deputy Leader, I'm taking charge. While the rest of us are licking our wounds, I'm organizing a team from the Legionnaires that are still standing to investigate. It'll be a private affair. No reason the Science Police need to worry their pretty little heads over any possible investigations that might be running side-by-side with their own, right?

Some good news, by the by: other than 4 Science Police officers that went down in the first blast, we had no other fatal casualties. All the delegates survived, all but the 4 Scicops made it, there were no fatalities in the crowd, and even with taking our lumps we didn't lose any teammates. The Fatal Five had everything they needed to turn the attack into a massacre that could've destroyed two governments, and taken out the entire team. You did good.

Oh, and since we have some new people with absolutely impeccable timing, welcome to the Legion. Don't mind our dust. Or the multitudinous catastrophic injuries. If you have any general questions that aren't just "Why is absolutely everyone injured?" feel free to ask.

Comments

cw: mental health issues

[googledox]

[Just because Brainy is doing other things doesn't mean he's not watching the comms. Rather than using his omnicom, he simply films from one of the room console screens. In the background, Kid Quantum is visible in her time loop, but several devices are already floating around her, scanning and slowing the loop down. Brainy himself is focused on fixing two little burnt-out rectangular devices at his lab table with an omnitool. The places where they once were attached to his cheeks have rectangles of green skin that are paler than the rest of his face.]

[Brainy is prone to being tetchy when others talk about him on the best of days and this is definitely one of the worst. Perhaps if he were in a better mood -- and perhaps if his inhibitors were functional and regulating his mood properly -- he'd have allowed Tenzil to explain, but he impulsively jumps in.]

First smartest. If you're referring to that previous conversation with Jason where he referred to me as the second smartest individual he knows, he was clearly referring to another acquaintance of his not on board Legion World at the moment.

[His tone is very arch and even more defensive than usual. And rambling. If he sounds manic, it's because he is. Even the Legionnaires that have been here since the Time Trapper started capturing people have never seen him like this. Raw and fully exposed. This is his mind in its most natural (unnatural) form. If his friends had a way to cut off his feed for his own sake they probably would, but even in this state, it's not like anyone could stop him from putting something on the network. He's partially responsible for large chunks of its programming.]

Inhibit. Inhabit. I inhabit a position of monumental importance and, of course, overwhelming arrogance, many would say. I am singular, singularly essential, responsible for the continued existence of the Legion, despite what many would say, but the many have always said many things about me -- but now they say more, of course, because of the accident they deem me responsible for, as if I chose for catastrophe to befall over half the team -- but I digress, just like my teammates most likely have transgressed into other dimensions.

I am Coluan and my species is known for their high intelligence and they have a scale that ends at a paltry ten. The average Coluan is an eighth level intellect, Earth is a six -- the entirety, the sum total of every mind, every crackle of synaptic potential --

[He places one of the inhibitors on his face as he talks and then breathes out a shuddering breath and sloooows down. Even with only one operating, the difference is staggering. It's only with his inhibitors functioning that he's able to truly understand what he's like when they're not functioning -- and that's why he suddenly looks very embarrassed. He's less wild-eyed and his cadence is much different now, a little stilted but more controlled. Slower and more organized. He's not verbally tripping all over himself.]

My...apologies. I find clarity of thought and speech difficult in that state. To answer your question more...directly [he says the word with slight tension in his voice] due to a familial genetic mutation, I was born a level twelve on the Coluan intelligence scale, capable of multiple simultaneous thought tracks. A few years back, a sentient space anomaly increased my intelligence even further still.

[One of the probes that has been fixing Kid Quantum's time loop floats over and he programs something into it with one hand, while his other hand continues to work on the other inhibitor with his omnitool without him even needing to look at his work.]

The result of this was that my already heightened intelligence exceeded its ability to self-regulate. Without my inhibitors, I have difficulty focusing my tracks of consciousness properly, and suffer from several deleterious mental and psychological effects due to the resulting defects in my cognitive processing.

[He looks even more sheepish.]

Due to my unique neurobiological makeup, the situation requires a customized solution, as standard psychoactive medications are ineffective to manage my condition. My inhibitors directly manipulate my neurochemical processes through technological means rather using a pharmacological mechanism of action.

Re: cw: mental health issues

[walkingballpit]

[ That's the kind of attitude he expects to come hand in hand with the assertion of being the smartest or second smartest, like anyone cares. There's that massive dose of ego, whether it be crazy/smart, arrogant/smart, or oblivious/smart.

Admitting to arrogance helps Robbie's opinion of Brainiac, despite it being vague. Other people say. What other people say can't be discarded. Especially when there are disasters involved, but Robbie feels for him. If he's been blamed for what happened to the Legion - well. That's too complicated a thing for someone as newly arrived as Robbie is.

He'd like to offer a friendly ear - he should. This is, after all, the guy he wants to suck up to, and he can logically see where he should have advice. It's not easy to find common ground when he's basically been called an intellectual ant, though.

Well, this ant might be sharing 50% of Brainy's mental capacity with several billion other intellectual insects, but he's heard enough to identify Brainy au natural as an awful person - even if he's smart and a hero and saving that Legionnaire.

The inhibitor brings on such a noticeable change in manner and tone that Robbie's more, not less, put off. His experience with personality controls features the use of nanite robots to deliver massive shocks in response to unwanted behavior. This is less extreme, but it's also less voluntary if it rearranges brain chemistry the second it touches skin. Maybe the guy's a dick, but forcing another personality on someone because it's convenient or because they've got skills you want to take advantage of - not using drugs and shocks doesn't make it right. Robbie's hands clench and unclench, and he rubs his thumbs against his fingers to keep them from fisting again.

When he's finally able to get a word in edgewise, Robbie doesn't know what he wants to say. That he pities Brainy is plain from the damp look in his downcast eyes and the constant, uncomfortable stretching and shifting in his seat. ]

Sorry. I didn't mean to pry.

[ Even colossal dicks deserve the privacy of their own heads. ]

I only wanted to make sure you were safe.

[ At the root, his question really was based on that. Why was someone supposedly so smart being limited? He wants to believe the inability to self regulate story, but it doesn't gel with his own experiences. Originally, he'd worried that this was a Norman Osborn situation, and someone was trying to keep a brilliant psychopath on a leash.

He's dismissed that. Brainiac is telling the truth, or this is a punishment. Robbie's too personally biased to make the call. ]

[googledox]

[Wondering if he's safe to deal with. It's valid. Plenty of people think Brainy isn't. Plenty of people blame him for the loss of much of the Legion, rue that they ever trusted him or thought he was a hero in the first place. He's a Brainiac, after all, and everyone knows you can't trust a Brainiac.]

[He hides that the question bothers him -- or at least tries to. The device he'd been programming goes back to continue working on Kid Q and he focuses on fixing his other inhibitor.]

It's an understandable concern. But I've never caused harm to anyone in my disordered state, nor have I purposefully caused harm to anyone while my inhibitors are operational. It's akin to a human suffering from manic-depressive illness or schizophrenia. I've worked through missions with my inhibitors inoperational before, but it's simply...unpleasant. I prefer to keep my mind in the state it was before my intelligence was advanced to the point of dysfunction.

Regardless of how erratic my thinking or behavior is or not, my greatest priority is aiding the team and protecting the UP public, and this remains the same regardless of the state my mind is in.

[walkingballpit]

What? No, I didn't mean it like that!

[ He did a little, but it was minute in comparison to the idea of being forced into an altered state. ]

I wanted to know if you were safe! I meant if you were all right. I wasn't - it wasn't about schizophrenia or anything like that.
I mean, I've seen them used on people who were bonafide whack jobs, but you're just long-winded.

[ Everything is coming out badly, because Robbie is having a hard time explaining why his own crazy and assorted mental illnesses are not on the level of cannibalizing things like Carnage. No one knows his references in the 30th century, and it's making him trip over his words as well. ]

Inhibitors is a loaded word. It wasn't too long ago they were shoving inhibitor collars on mutants.

[ Yes, good. That example moves this away from personal. Run with it. ]

They're still good people. I wasn't trying to question your loyalty.

[ Except he was, before words like depression were namedropped and he got all "leave Brainy alone!" He's overidentifying, and Robbie can't remember what he wanted from the conversation, except to escape it unscathed. ]

[googledox]

Ah. I -- [Brainy looks faintly embarrassed.] While it hasn't been an issue with the team, the general public has --

[It's difficult to talk about, the way they blame him for the disaster, so he just drops the subject.]

So I just assumed --

[It's easy to assume that others are questioning his loyalty when they so often do.]

You needn't be concerned about my well-being. My inhibitors aren't altering my personality in a harmful way. They simply inhibit unstable cognitive patterns.

[walkingballpit]

[ And there it is, like how imagines a punch to the gut must feel, all of the air rushing out of his chest with too much aggression to be a sigh.

Robbie knows that drop off. He's done it himself and heard it dozens of times. We understand, but it's the politicians. The press. The average person on the street. They only see you, and how you failed, and they prefer their news stories with a post hoc ergo propter hoc style. The general public sees in black and white and permits sympathy only for starlets and children.

He can't ignore it. He probably should. Everyone can see this. ]

Okay. I'm sorry - I didn't mean to shine a spotlight on it.

[ It feels like such a woefully inadequate apology, though. Robbie can't do it, can't make himself leave the topic alone. He has the chance to be a voice that will feel unbiased, because he just got here. ]

The general public is reactionary. They're quick to blame and slow to forget - they're never going to forget and they're never going to tell you they're sorry. But I am. Because each person is good, and meanwhile the public sucks.

[ He's talking as fast as he can, because this about getting the words out before he runs out of nerve and into a brick wall of buried emotions. ]

But they also don't suck, and I figure you know that. You're a Legionnaire. I know the oath. I took it. Nobody does that if they don't think people are worth protecting. So it hurts, because you care about people on a base level and you want them to care back. But whatever they think, whatever they're screaming, it's going to taper off when the shock wears away. In a couple of years, you'll go online and see that 70% of the public actually likes you again. So you'll sit there and tell yourself that nobody likes everybody, and you'll almost feel better about it.

So I'm glad you don't need my well-being, but you're stuck with it.

[ There. His voice started fraying with strain towards the end, but Robbie managed to not connect the speech to himself, passion aside. He can leave it here and keep some deniability if anyone tries to poke at this. ]

[googledox]

[Congrats, Robbie, you just instantly earned yourself a friend. For a moment, Brainy can only stare, and then the words slip out before he can stop them.

They may still be alive. The device created a confluence of dimensional energies that could have easily transported them elsewhere, and to conclude that they were simply vaporized when there was no evidence of any residue or --

[He snaps his mouth shut when he realizes it all just sounds like denial.]

Naturally, the scientific processes that were involved are difficult to explain to a public not educated in the complexities of manipulating the fabric of spacetime.

[His jaw goes rigid for a moment.]

And...likewise. Ah, in regards to concern for your well-being. I want to get you all home to your dimensional points of origin or alternate universes of your choosing -- and ensure that they aren't destroyed in an omnicidal catastrophe. It's my top priority.

[whyarewehere]

[ Grif has exactly one way to respond to a friend having a serious moment on a public channel. ]

Twelfth level intellect? I thought they were just talking about where you rank on the 1-10 scale of being a goddamn nerd.

[ He's got you, bro. ]

[walkingballpit]

I dropped some tofurkey when I saw that. Should I leave it there in case you want to kick something else when it's down, or are you done here?

[ Regardless of the reason why, Brainiac is obviously dealing with some crap, and Robbie thinks Grif is piling more on because he, too, blames Brainiac. He's a little peeved to get a live feed of an example. ]

Besides, some of my best friends are twelfth level nerds.

[googledox]

It's quite alright. Grif has difficulties relating to others with sincerity, so he attempts to defuse tension and improve the mood of his friends and acquaintances with humor that's not actually that humorous.

[Brainy looks slightly moved that Robbie would try to defend him, though.]

However, your concern is appreciated, albeit misplaced.

[whyarewehere]

It was a good joke and you know it.

[ Just gonna zero in on the clearly important thing here and try to breeze past the Grif-is-trying-to-help bit.

Because he is trying to help, but dammit Brainy you don't gotta go telling people that. Shit's embarrassing. ]

[googledox]

[Brainy breaks off from working on his inhibitor and makes a fifty-fifty gesture with his hand and answers with a very erudite, intelligent-sounding --]

Meh.

[whyarewehere]

[ Grif puts a hand to his chest, taken aback. ]

That's all I get? Meh?

And I thought you guys wanted me to start putting effort into things.

[walkingballpit]

[ Aw, come on. It's not fair to grab him by the hair and make him relate to everyone... dammit, now he feels for Grif too. Robbie is going to go to the mess hall and find out how the future has managed to ruin hot cocoa. ]

My flea circus brain disagrees. Maybe things get lost in a brain as big as yours.

[ But he's got a small smile on his face, and Robbie's tone is nothing but kindness. ]

... thanks for reminding me he's a person, too.

[googledox]

You're certainly welcome.

[A pause, then a small smile of his own.]

Though I should perhaps caution you about the fact that his being a person doesn't preclude him from occasionally being a sprocking nasshead. It's just not this particular instance that you need be concerned about.

[walkingballpit]

Sprocking nasshead, huh? So much for your fancy technical terms.

[ Brainiac is aptly named, after all. His vocabulary is very precise. ]

I like it. I'll remember that one the next time I need a new Buckethead.

[whyarewehere]

I don't have to take this abuse!

[ His feelings dude, they're super duper hurt. ]

[sir_vancelot]

Like Brainy says. Grif's an asshole, but he's our asshole.

Think certain members of the team back in the first couple of missions.

[Yes, Rich. He's comparing Grif to you back in the early days of the Warriors.]

[walkingballpit]

[ ... no, Robbie isn't ready to start sharing the word our with more people yet. He's fine with joining a second squad, but "our asshole" is a commitment. Also, the role is filled by Spiderphobia. ]

Only the first few missions?

[ None of this means he'll pass by the opportunity to tease Nova, although it occurs to him that Vance could mean Dwayne. No, he didn't. Vance never brings them up. ]

I'm still waiting for him to relapse.

[sir_vancelot]

[Vance has had more time to acclimate. And, despite what he may say sometimes, he's more of a team player than he wants to think he is. Especially when shit is falling apart.]

Well. He grew out of it. Mostly.

Never know, though. There could be a relapse.

[whyarewehere]

[ Grif was preparing to dig this hole deeper because if there's anything Grif loves it's a pointless comms fight, but Brainy and Vance took the wind out of that sail. It's also jarred him enough to remind him that just maybe he should be behaving a little bit better toward (relative) strangers on the comms, given the whole being-beaten-up-by-furries-and-then-put-in-time-out incident.

So he just sighs and rolls his eyes. ]

What they're trying to say is that I'm hilarious and they like my nerd jokes.

[headinjuries]

Well, it does take one to know one.

[ don't be leaving yourself out of the nerdbucket here, grif ]

[whyarewehere]

You stop helping.

[walkingballpit]

[ Meanwhile, Robbie was ready to go down with the ship over leaving someone to struggle in peace - he's still ready to tie himself to the mizzenmast.

But out of deference to Brainiac and Vance, he's standing down. ]

No, I definitely heard the word asshole. And the joke was a three. Like it's the douchebro check joke, while you're felling out the audience.

No one's laughing.

[ That is total standing down ]

[whyarewehere]

[ Grif pauses, sizes this situation up, and arrives at a clearly great decision. ]

Well then I obviously need to make more jokes.

[ The flippancy dial is up to eleven. ]