And On the Right: Toilets

[Tom Harriman]

Don't tell John.

Those words echoed in Tom's head; his stomach squirmed at the thought. He kept the urge to grimace well under control though, and shook John's hand firmly. "Indeed I am," he replied, even managing a smile. "Tom Harriman. It's a pleasure to finally put a face to the name."

That's right, John, Tom's mind muttered darkly. Clarity has told me everything.

Thoughts of Clarity's eyes, so pained and sad when she'd explained it all to him, flooded his mind. His hand was filled with the urge to curl into a fist, to reach up, punch John Rhee in the face; to try to knock some sense into the man. But Clarity wouldn't forgive him if he did; and no matter how much his personal chivalry demanded that he somehow rescue his friend from her love life limbo, she'd made him promise not to interfere.

"Ridley was kind enough to give me the tour," he said instead, opting for small talk instead of righteous violence. "It was certainly an -" He searched for an apt euphamism. "- interesting perspective on this school of yours."

[Dragon]

"I don't doubt it," John said, now smiling in earnest, and he rested his hand on Ridley's slim shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Ridley probably knows more about it than I do by now. So, what can I do for you today, Mr. Harriman?"

[Tom Harriman]

Part of Tom had hoped that Clarity's swift abandonment of him had meant she'd have time to fill John in on the basics. His heart sank a little at the prospect of having to explain it from the beginning. In order to do that, he had to work out where exactly the beginning was; he couldn't rely on Clarity's past knowledge of him, and the fact that she was already used to him beginning explanations in the middle.

"It's a little complicated," he admitted with a wince. A frown tugged at his brow. "Have you heard of a company called Treadstone Industries?"

[Dragon]

"Yes, I am," John replied. "One of our students did an internship there after graduating from ESU. Clarity told me you're operating some kind of laboratory for studying mutant abilities?"

He said this with a curious mix of interest and suspicion. Clarity had told him more than that, but he wanted to hear Tom's explanation.

[Tom Harriman]

He knew something, then. That was better than nothing, Tom supposed.

"Yes," he agreed, though there was a careful amount of slow reluctance in his words. Something in John's tone put him instantly on the defensive, and while yes was a simple and honest answer to the question posed, Tom couldn't escape the feeling that he might be admitting to suspicions that weren't entirely clear.

"There are mutants who can conjure fire or electricity out of thin air," he explained, leaping in with an example. A twinge of discomfort sparked in him as he realised that people who posessed both of those abilities had tried to kill him in the past. "That's energy out of nothing, which is breaking some pretty fundemental laws of physics. So either they're doing the impossible, or our understanding of physics is just plain wrong."

He fought the urge to slip too far into teacher mode, but it was hard. He'd stumbled into teaching because physics fascinated him; he'd stumbled into metaphysics research because it was the most fascinating field of them all. It was hard to avoid sounding enthusiastic and passionate about something when you most definately were.

"If I can find a way to understand how that works - where those mutants are pulling that energy from - then maybe I can find a way to do it artificially. A machine that can pull free electricity from thin air could change the world for the better. And that's just one of the hundreds of different abilities out there."

He threw in a shrug.

"Artificially replicating the healing abilities of some mutants could revolutionise the medical industry. A technological version of the power to control plants could help to end world hunger. Understanding how some mutants are able to manipulate gravity could revolutionise space travel: reduced gravity to get space craft into orbit at a fraction of the cost; artificial gravity to make life easier for the astronauts when they're up there. Understanding Clarity's power of teleportation could all but eliminate planes and automobiles, bringing an end to the environmental damage that they can cause."

He offered John a faint smile, though it was one laced with a hint of bitterness and regret.

"The world is scared of us mutants, and yet we all harbour the power to make it a better place."

[Ridley Rhee]

Ridley, leaning comfortably against his father, felt his chest swell with pride. He'd never considered half of the things Tom had just brought up. Suddenly mutation wasn't just cool, it was imperative to existence. How did people even expect to survive without embracing it? They were all gonna end up smashed to smithereens like the dinosaurs, doomed to extinction.

Which was just another reason they needed to get him tested. Curious, Ridley tipped his head back to gauge John's reaction.

"We're supposed to help people, Dad," he intoned solemnly, "because that's what responsible citizens do. Right?"

[Dragon]

There was little there that Clarity hadn't already told him, at least in principle, but John had wanted to hear it from Tom nonetheless, to hear how the man justified it, to get a read on his interest and attitude. To hear someone speak of their passions was to hear them at their best. It wasn't enough to render judgment on Tom Harriman, but it was an important data point.

He smiled at Ridley's upturned plea and nodded his assent. "That sounds very admirable," he said. "In fact, I think it's very consistent with Dr. Cullen's vision for this place. So, how can I help you?"

[Tom Harriman]

Loading your kids into a bus for a field trip to my labs in LA would be a good start.

He kept that thought to himself, and then sincerely wished he hadn't had it at all: while he knew from Clarity that John didn't have the power to read his mind, that didn't rule out the possibility of there being a psychic in the building eavesdropping on their conversation, and his thoughts. It was bad enough working with Emma: she'd begun to suss out just the right way to ask a question so that he'd think of the answer, whether he wanted her to know it or not. Someone should really work on inventing a defense against that: some sort of telepathy-blocking helmet or something.

Maybe one made of tin foil, just for the sake of irony.

"These kids are lucky," he said instead, gesturing over his shoulder as if that arbetrary direction represented the entire school. "They're in a nurturing and supportive environment, surrounded by their own kind, all safe and sound in a judgement free zone."

He frowned. "LA doesn't have that. Instead we have schools where mutants are too scared to admit what they are. We have kids who hide what they are from their friends and their family, because they're afraid of what will happen if they're found out. We have gangs roaming the streets with the specific intention of taking care of the freaks."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I want to help these kids, but squishy science isn't my forté. I don't have years of experience helping them to accept themselves, open up, and explore their abilities. I can build tech that will help these kids, but I can't build the kind of rapport that you people can."

"What I need is backup... a cavalry that I can call in to give extra help to the ones who need it." He shrugged. "Maybe I can even convince Treadstone to set up a scholarship fund: get some of those kids off the streets of LA, and into your school."

[Dragon]

John was all too aware of the conditions facing mutants in Los Angeles, the city with the largest mutant population in the United States. With both the Brotherhood and Vanguard ramping up their operations in southern California, he had already been floating ideas among the faculty for how they might get involved, both above and below the board. A partnership with Treadstone could potentially open up the whole city to them. It almost seemed too good to be true.

"We have some contacts in the area already," John said, and his thoughts immediately went to Anna Fernandez and Tess Abrahams. "And there are a few local programs we support. But we've honestly been hoping to establish something more permanent. If I may ask, is this request on behalf of Treadstone, or is it your own idea?"

[Tom Harriman]

That was an odd question to ask; an odd distinction to make. Tom couldn't quite understand what John was asking: who else would he be asking on behalf of?

"I'm not sure that the two are distinct," he answered carefully, a frown tugging at his brow. "I'm the head of this research project. My mandate is to study how mutant powers work, and to make the world a better place. That's my idea, that's my goal; but it's also Treadstone's goal. It's what they're paying me to do."

He shrugged. "Maybe I make the world a better place by investing some of my budget in helping kids, rather than researching a new kind of energy saving lightbulb. It's all the same to me: and I'm not going to loose any sleep over having done it. Treadstone is real big on it's community outreach programs, and more than that -"

He trailed off, unsure just how much of other people's secrets he was allowed to give away. He settled on being as enigmatic as he could.

"I know Dahlia Ericsson. This sort of thing - helping people? This is what she does. This is what she wants. And this is the kind of thing she wants Treadstone to be seen doing."