VIII-On Sight [Nireva]

[Christian Moynahan]

There weren't many places to have a good lunch on or near UCLA's campus, unfortunately. At least, that was what the locals told him. Some of them were surely biased, having lived in the city at least since their college and university days. They knew better than he did, though. He had only been in Los Angeles for a month officially, and more like four months counting the hiring and transition process. He had a tendency to cook for himself or grab lunch quickly; his own meals were purposely healthy, while the fast food he got on the run was not so healthy, It evened out, he figured.

Today he had a particular place to stop for lunch, and more time than usual. As with everything else he did, that was by design. Image was everything in business, and he personally took an interest in watching articles and blogs about Ark, just to keep a finger on the pulse, as it were, of society's attitude toward the corporation. Among others, he had found a blog by someone who went by the name Siren, but who he knew to be, for all intents and purposes, Sereia Auzenne. It was easy enough to track someone's IP or otherwise uncover their identities, even when they took extraordinary measures to stay hidden as Ms. Auzenne had. Even he himself knew better than to think he couldn't be tracked, although in his case, he was part of the organizations that typically did the tracking, so that gave him a bit more security.

He was not looking for Ms. Auzenne, but for another young woman, who had commented on the blog in question. She had expressed concern over how Ark would attempt to recover itself after the April Fourth incident - an event he remembered clearly, but had not been part of on the Ark side at the time. She even planned to analyze footage of the press conference to see whether she could uncover some hidden message or some ulterior motive. He wanted to gauge just how successful she had been at that. While this was far from a game to him, he did consider it a challenge. It was a test to his mind. When he didn't keep his mind occupied in some way, he tended to fall off track in the worst of ways. He doubted Lucius or Gabriel would be happy to see him in that state.

Fortunately, the press only hounded him at particular times, usually when he was leaving Ark for the day, or occasionally when he was arriving at the building. They did not bother him at lunch because he seldom left the building for it. So today he found he was able to walk around freely, which was a nice change. The weather was warm but pleasant, with a slight breeze that riffled through his dark hair. Casually he strolled along the sidewalk, and, upon finding the little place where he knew his quarry happened to be lunching today, he stepped inside and moved toward the counter, striding with the confident gait of a runway model. There he ordered a veggie sub; while he was not strictly vegetarian, he did prefer to limit the meat in his diet, and gluten as well, but in this case an exception was appropriate.

The place was comfortably packed, that is, with enough guests that no one would look twice at him and he could have a quiet conversation, but not so full as to have trouble hearing. He waited for his order to be prepared before taking a seat, and loosened his tie in the process, for a more casual presentation. He had worn a dress shirt as usual, one that could have been called dark purple or maroon, but the tie was definitely purple, and despite the dark color of his pants, they could not be mistaken for anything but jeans. That and a pair of black Keds made his ensemble somewhere between too casual and not formal enough. It would provide an interesting read, he hoped.

Nireva Hale was easy enough to spot among the restaurant's patrons, especially since he had already seen her profile picture on the blog. From there, he had found she used the same username on Ark's own chatrooms, which had further led to different lines of information, which had led to this unexpected and possibly unwanted meeting. Veggie sandwich and cup of water in hand, he took a seat across from Niri. It must have been quite the interruption, to have Christian Moynahan slip into the booth across from her completely unannounced.

"Miss Hale. I hope I'm not interrupting." She would be correct in assuming whether his arrival was an interruption was a problem to him or whether he in fact cared. "I'm new to Los Angeles, but I've heard good things about this place. Not everyone can make a proper veggie sub." He had not yet picked up the sub, much less taken a bite from it, but he did take a sip of water before putting it down and offering a smile. "We haven't been formally introduced, not face to face, at least. I'm Christian Moynahan. I hear you're a student here. UCLA is quite an impressive university."

[Nireva Hale]

She said, "I'm Rosie!" I said, "I thought you were Lucy!"
She said, "I'm Rosie; I told you so!" Was here with your sister, but she was goin' out the back!
I wasn't dancing for fun, y'know?
Of all the shitty little places I meet you, it's here and I'm freaking out!
I heard you've gotta brand new name, selling E's in the dark! But hey, it's nothin' to shout about!
Don't just say "yes" to tease me! Do your utmost to please me!
I don't mean to be sleazy! Bein' you can't be easy...
...when you're creepin' up the back stairs! Mother's nightmares!
Fallin' in the front door? My, my! Climbin' in the window! Get dressed, let's go!
Take your brother's car keys! Bye-bye!
______________________________The Fratellis - "Creepin' Up The Backstairs"

There weren't many drawbacks to studying towards a medical degree at UCLA, even when compared with such prestigious halls of learning as Princeton and Harvard. Having been Nireva's first foray into higher education - or the equivalent which passed for it - for over a hundred years, which was quite the startling revelation now she'd thought about it, she was pleasantly surprised to see both how much and how little things had changed. It was one of the fixtures of life which had augmented itself with the advances in technology and social convention rather than being completely consumed by it and, by interacting in arenas which many would have thought to be the domain of the (relatively) young, Nireva was able to hide herself from the fact that she was, in reality, a few decades shy of being five hundred years of age.

One of the things which had quickly grown rather irksome was the lack of convenient culinary establishments outside the university. While she was easily able to find and eat her lunch on campus, she as well as many other students had instead elected to take advantage of their freedom by getting away from the campus for a little while. Jersey Mike's was one of the places Nireva had heard about from her classmates and, very quickly, it had been her main go-to place to have lunch. Although the meals they produced were similar, she'd always preferred the sandwiches here to the likes of Subway and with the building being well within a comfortable walking distance of the university, it was also far more convenient.

Ever since sitting in on the Ark Industries "town hall" meeting which had been held in the UCLA auditorium, she had been running over the corporation's responses again and again in the back of her mind, delving between the words of the assembled executives in search of what she felt was lurking beneath those warm vocal tones and borderline saccharine smiles. Ark were definitely up to something. Normally, when assaulted by such a colossal scandal, lesser corporations would have allowed their names to fizzle into obscurity to be eventually forgotten. However, the orchestrators of April Fourth had poured quite the effort into remodelling their image. A new CEO had been appointed and, through a few searches of the larger online news sites, Nireva had learned - almost too easily - that the people flanking Christian Moynahan's position had also changed.

With Moynahan at the helm, Ark were preparing to weather the storm of protesters, detractors (like herself) and those who simply wished to see if attempting to sever the head of the corporation would actually make a difference. It was more curiosity than anything else, but the strangeness of their course of action left Nireva with a desire to know why they were doing it. Just what was the goal they had in mind? Were they thinking of reviving the experiments which had resulted in the deaths of a quarter of a billion people? Or were they thinking of aiming higher? Centuries of experience had taught her to always be distrustful of those in power; whether they oversaw the running of a nation or were simply in possession of considerable weight in the world of business, she was prepared for the eventuality that their power would cause them to become misguided. It was something which had happened to Ark once already and, even now, entities rarely changed from what they'd proven themselves to be.

With a partially eaten buffalo chicken wrap in her left hand, Nireva was taking advantage of the building's free wi-fi to do precisely what she had indirectly threatened to do while responding to a blog created by someone named Siren. Although she was referring to many more people other than herself who shared her cynicism and derision for the corporation, she had found herself analysing the on-demand video of the recent conferences Ark had organised. A solitary earphone sat in her left ear, allowing her to hear the questions and responses as they droned back and forth. Like any good press conference or corporate meeting, the videos were riddled with soundbites which they would no doubt try to spin to their advantage.

Occasionally, she would swipe her finger across the screen, rewinding the footage to repeat anything she felt needed a second - or fifth - listen. There were moments when she felt like she was obsessing over Moynahan and his lackeys a little too much but, as she kept in mind just who Ark's previous exploits had affected, she was soon back at work. But what she hadn't expected was for the orator behind many of the quotes she'd both heard and almost memorised to sit himself down opposite her. "Miss Hale. I hope I'm not interrupting." Though the fact he already knew her name - albeit one of her many aliases - was even more of a shock. Just what the hell did he think he was doing? She had no idea how she'd come to be on his personal radar, nor why he seemingly felt the need to dredge up some of her personal information. But, with her phone sitting on the table, she felt she was at least able to guess. "I'm new to Los Angeles, but I've heard good things about this place. Not everyone can make a proper veggie sub."

For the moment, she remained silent. Tugging on the thin silver cable running from her phone to her head, she popped the earphone out of her ear and allowed it to tumble down onto her lap. There was little point in listening to what Christian had already said when he was sitting less than three feet away from her. There was no doubt in her mind that he would struggle to escape his tendency to use "corporate" language; phrasing which was deliberately vague so that his yes men could add their own positive slant to it after the fact. "We haven't been formally introduced, not face to face, at least. I'm Christian Moynahan. I hear you're a student here. UCLA is quite an impressive university."

She may not have known for certain why he'd sought her out, but she could make an educated guess. Corporations like Ark Industries were nothing if not resourceful. "Is stalking the way you normally reach out to your detractors, Mr. Moynahan?" Having been swamped by her studies over the past couple of weeks, her mood had soured somewhat; a state only exacerbated by Ark's sudden reemergence. Albeit indirectly, they had almost killed someone she deeply cared about and, while Jenna didn't have the slightest idea as to how her harrowing ordeal had been created, Nireva was finding that she was more than capable of being angry on her girlfriend's behalf. Some people - people more forgiving than her - would, by this point, have pointed out Moynahan's lack of involvement with the debacle. She may not have known what had happened to Ark's previous CEO following the court cases and senate hearings which had beset them, but she wasn't about to let Ark off that easily. "I'd say your company's reputation is precarious enough as it is, but I'm sure you have people telling you that already."

But maybe this wasn't the time to bite his head off so eagerly. As dubious as this meeting between them might have seemed, especially in hindsight, it didn't need to descend into a heated argument. "Though what I want to know is this: of all the people who sat in on your town hall meeting, you decided to come and find me. There were far more engaging debate partners for you to pick and choose from. So why?"

[Christian Moynahan]

This was not normal behavior for Christian; he had never made a habit of stalking anyone, not ex-girlfriends or potential rivals or anyone at all. Yet thanks to the resources at his fingertips, he had found it quite easy to locate Nireva. The upside to technology and the path it was taking, the way everything was coming together to provide one user experience, was that it made a person able to keep track of everything. The downside was that sometimes it also made others able to keep track of your everythings.

He completely understood why she was irritated and suspicious of his sudden visit, but still, he gave her an innocent smile that likely fooled no one. "Would an email or a private chat room have been more to your liking? I find the human element of a personal discussion much more meaningful." The subtlety in that statement was that he'd had every intention of contacting her; she would have found herself cornered by him in some way eventually. His demeanor was calm and even warm, though, so there would be little reason to be wary of harm coming to her.

"Oh, I have heard plenty of that. I've been asked about it as well. At my own provocation, often enough. Or, more specifically, the provocation of my chief of public affairs. She seems intent on making a celebrity of me." He opened his briefcase on his lap, with the opened top of the briefcase facing her, shielding its contents from her view; from it he pulled three magazines. "I just received these in the past few days. Most of them are already on sale. There are others that are published on a less frequent pace." He fanned the magazines out, facing toward her, front covers up. "See, here's one by Newsweek. I have to wonder whether any of their journalists attended our press conference or watched our town hall meeting. Or perhaps they were simply looking for more direct quotes." The end of his statement had the upturn of a not-quite-question, as though he were musing to himself more than relating a story to Nireva.

"And here's Time's version of the same story. That interviewer asked almost all the same questions as the former. I do like the cover photo, though. Not the makeup aspect. I don't know how you women do it on a regular basis." He chuckled softly and then indicated the last magazine. Indicated with a slight tap of his fingers; he never quite pointed at anything. "Now GQ wanted to know quite a bit about my personal life, so that was a change. Though not a particularly welcome one."

He tapped the Newsweek one again, a couple of inches above where his first name appeared. "Some of these magazines love their puns and double entendres. This one was not entirely welcome. Exposure is a double-edged sword, I've found. Though I suppose I should be glad I haven't wound up on the cover of Star or the Daily Mail." He paused to reach for his sandwich and study Nireva's expression a bit more closely. Christian liked to talk, but not just to hear his own voice, although that voice was a strong and soothing one; he liked to watch the various reactions to his words. Although his propensity for speech could certainly be taken for the former.

"You've already heard my spiel about fixing Ark's reputation as much as you care to, I suspect." He smiled and took a small bite of his sandwich, nodding slightly and finishing the bite before speaking again. "That's a good sandwich." He followed that with a sip of water, taking his own time to get to her last question, despite the fact that the answer was very simple.

The phrasing, though, he thought. That was delicate. And while he was not as well versed in public speaking as many others in similar positions, the time between his press conference and this lunch had shown him just how important it was to say things a certain way. It was a lesson he should have learned while dealing with his sister, he knew, but that time had passed. Cami had ceased to respond to his communications years before. He often wondered what she thought of him in this new job, but she had yet to reach out to him, and he had not dared yet to bring her into the media circus his life had become.

It would calm down, of course. The media would get bored of him in a while, or some new sensation would pop up and move away the spotlight. In truth, a part of Christian enjoyed being fussed over; much time had passed since anyone had paid him much attention. And maybe he would miss it when it passed. That part of him might, at least. He turned his thoughts from that subject and looked at Nireva; he had been looking at her the entire time, but the look changed in that moment, as though previously she had not been there and he was seeing her now for the first time.

Yes. The phrasing. "There were plenty of debaters and detractors, yes. I met a few of them. A couple of them wrote the articles in these magazines. A few have emailed or called me. Some others have set up regular protests on my headquarters' steps. And a particularly enterprising group of them found my address and egged my car, then proceeded to adorn the trees in the yard with toilet paper. I know it happened in that order because there was toilet paper stuck in some of the egg whites on my car. Any one of them would have certainly made an excellent debate partner." His tone was still kind and calm, but there was an edge to the last words, debate partner, as though he would have spit the words out if he could; however, he did no such thing. He was in polite company, and, just as his company did, he had a certain image to project.

"You, however, are intelligent and well-spoken, and curious, and have a deep-seated need to learn. Unlike those others, you would present a challenge. You have questions and perspectives I haven't heard. And, as I've mentioned, I've heard many of those, and answered them the exact same way. I've heard the stories too. Those are all different, but they all end the same way, with them blaming me for the things that happened to them or their loved ones on April Fourth. They seem to forget that I wasn't on the Ark side of the press conference that morning." He chuckled dryly, then took another bite and drink before looking back to Nireva again.

"But you have a story too, I'm sure. I'd gamble that it's a difficult one. It's what drives your curiosity and your hatred for Ark. It's the principle for you, I'd guess. We can change our logo and our management, but it won't change what happened. You're right in that. It won't change what happened to you, or to your loved one. It won't change what happened to me, or to millions of people the world over."

He took a breath that, were it an exhale instead of an inhale, would have been a sigh. "But I'm talking for you, I think. I didn't come here to do that. The short answer to your question: I think you're interesting and that any discussion you may offer would by extension be interesting." He smiled, a sense of calm now settling over his movements. With a slight tilt of his head and a faint raise of his eyebrows, he tipped the cup of water to his lips and took another light sip.

"By the way," he said, setting the cup of water aside, "I hope you'll call me Christian."

[Nireva Hale]

Can it be that there's some sort of error?
Hard to stop the surmounting terror. Is it really the end; not some crazy dream?
Somebody please tell me that I'm dreaming! It's not easy to stop from screaming!
But words escape me when I try to speak. Tears fall but why am I crying?
After all, I'm not afraid of dying! Don't I believe that there never is an end?
______________________________Iron Maiden - "Hallowed By Thy Name"

Although, compared to that of Christian, her experience in public speaking was vastly in excess of his simply due to her longevity, Nireva would have likely maintained the fact that the new Ark CEO was better at it than she was. He may have only been in the world for a smattering of decades, but the corporate world had definitely been his focus in life. He had specifically trained to do more than tread water in the business arena and it was this distinction that led the immortal to place his prowess over her own. "Would an email or a private chat room have been more to your liking?"

However, regardless of how selectively superior she thought him to be, there was no getting away from the fact that his first response had irked her somewhat. Not only had he responded to her taunting inquiry with a question of his own, he had made absolutely no effort to hide the fact that he had sought her out. Ever since the town hall meeting, it seemed, he had wanted to speak with her for some as yet unknown purpose and, with the resourses at his disposal, escape was looking decidedly impossible.

Annoyingly, Nireva couldn't really fault him as he expressed his preference for the human element of personal discussion. She wanted to pick apart his words in order to find some sort of fallacy for which she could berate him. But, for the time being, Christian was choosing his words with the utmost care. "I suppose." Not only did she not have to wait for his response whenever she spoke, there was also the added bonus of enjoying another of the sandwiches Jersey Mike's had to offer. "At least, by coming here, you don't get to drag this out."

Taking another bite of her sandwich, Nireva kept a close eye on Christian as his attention momentarily derailed, diving to the suitcase in his lap. Her long life had taught her, if anything, to keep her eyes open; both literally and figuratively. By doing so, she became far more attentive to the world around her and all of the machinations caused by human nature which marred it. The abrupt sound of the catches on the businessman's suitcase flipping open were a slightly disconcerting precursor. Surely, she thought, he didn't need his suitcase for the simple purpose of having a chat with her. For that reason, she was slightly dubious as to why Christian had brought it along. Was he looking to make some sort of presentation in order to win her over?

"Oh, I have heard plenty of that," he remarked. So he wasn't simply ignoring the shitstorm his predecessors had left behind. Perhaps there was hope for him yet! "I've been asked about it as well. At my own provocation, often enough. Or, more specifically, the provocation of my chief of public affairs. She seems intent on making a celebrity of me." Given how suddenly he had risen to his new position, the status of a minor celebrity wasn't something Nireva thought was too difficult for him - or anyone else the board could have chosen - to attain. It was something close to a mild form of scapegoating. Although the specifics were a mystery to many, the majority of the world knew enough of the facts - namely what had been spoon-fed to them by the news - to deem Ark Industries one of the demons of the business world.

She was certain that the people who had swept in to save the company had been abundantly cognizant of the fact as well and that, whoever they appointed as their new leader, would also end up being the new face of the company; one who would have to answer for the crimes of the men and women who had come before. As much as she'd fallen into the whole "demonise Ark Industries" trap - and with sufficiently good reason in her own mind - Nireva was actually admiring how well Christian was coping. A begrudging admiration, admittedly, but she knew that he could have fared far worse than how he was. "Think of it as one of the 'perks' of the job," she remarked.

The only reason she knew more than the rest of the general public was through her connections, both physical and otherwise. Her grandmother was the CEO of Intellitouch; the largest publicly-trading biotechnology firm in the country, if not the world, while the fact she had an ability had opened her to the myriad conversations which had littered the formerly Ark-owned chatroom tailored mainly for others like her. As was often the case on the internet, her fellows had been all but compelled to drop various hints about their lives in what was otherwise idle conversation; insights from people far more knowledgable in certain matters than herself. The rumours that Ark had been trying to synthetically graft abilities onto people were ones which held considerable weight, especially when lined up alongside the accounts of people across the globe.

Normally, if Jenna had remarked to her that she had spent five minutes of her afternoon with the capability of flight, she would have passed it off as her being high on something. They were, after all, an integral part of Los Angeles' club scene - dancers at Plan B - and recreational drugs, for them, were nigh-on unavoidable. But it had been the fear in her voice which had tipped Nireva off to the fact that there might have been more truth to the whole affair.

While it wasn't really something with which she'd ever had to contend, the concept of having absolutely no control over one's ability was something that fazed her. Telepaths could be overwhelmed by the thoughts of others to the point of insanity, while pyrokinetics could immolate themselves by turning a building into an all-consuming inferno. Jenna, on the other hand, could have quite easily sent herself into a low orbit inside those four minutes or at least flown so high that the elimination of her ability was nothing short of a death sentence. Just thinking about the possibility was scary and, try as they might by changing their employees, Ark Industries had to live with the fear they'd created forever.

"I just received these in the past few days," he announced, his voice still the same as it had been since sitting down. Instead of some business-related file, Christian had produced a trio of magazines. Encompassing the most popular publications in the country, the issues of Newsweek, Time and GQ were all united in their proud display of the new CEO of Ark Industries on the cover. While all of them seemed to be the latest issue, Time's cover was in fact an advance copy; one given to him before its public release that coming Saturday. Understandably, just about every news organisation in the land had leapt onto Christian within moments of hearing the announcement.

"See, here's one by Newsweek. I have to wonder whether any of their journalists attended our press conference or watched our town hall meeting." The former certainly sounded likely. UCLA's general unwillingness to allow the press to invade the campus en masse except for big occasions was one of the reasons why Ark had chosen to stream the town hall meeting over the internet, allowing more than just the press to see it as it unfolded. As far as Nireva was aware, the vast majority of the physical audience had been students like herself, curious as to what was happening. "Or perhaps they were simply looking for more direct quotes."

The one-sided chat about Christian's flurry of interviews continued for a couple of minutes, allowing him to point out each magazine in turn before offering comments about their practices; like how Time's interviewer had asked an identical set of questions to Newsweek and asked him to wear subtle, yet flattering make-up for his cover photo, while GQ had wanted a bigger insight into his personal life; something which hadn't entirely sat right with Ark's new CEO. "Some of these magazines love their puns and double entendres. This one was not entirely welcome. Exposure is a double-edged sword, I've found. Though I suppose I should be glad I haven't wound up on the cover of Star or the Daily Mail."

"Unless you're starring in a movie or are marrying into Hollywood, I wouldn't worry." Even Nireva knew that the majority of publications which deemed themselves to be dealing with news weren't at all worth dealing with. Most simply wanted to spin the words of others to garner excuses to "legally" spout their particular brand of fearful hatemongering while others seemed to ignore anything that wasn't what movie stars ate for breakfast or where they did their shopping. Whether by word of mouth of via published media, news was always going to be biased in some manner. Maybe that was why she'd decided to be part of the audience in Ark's town hall meeting, she pondered. At least then she could listen to what Christian had wanted to say as opposed to someone else's skewed version of what he'd said.

"You've already heard my spiel about fixing Ark's reputation as much as you care to, I suspect." It was more observant musing than anything else. Christian simply fell silent after he mentioned his main task, only piping up again to remark on how good his food happened to be. He was certainly correct in the assumption. Although she believed that his efforts - and those of his new conspirators - would eventually end in failure, she was far from the type to stop him from trying. His time in the world was, unlike her own, limited. If he didn't learn now, then there was every chance that he would never get the chance. "It's mentioned in just about every article about you; whether by you yourself or whoever wrote it."

Although he'd been looking straight at her for the duration of his silence, it was when Christian returned the conversation to the subject of his time thus far as the head of Ark that his eyes actually acknowledged Nireva's presence once more. "There were plenty of debaters and detractors, yes. I met a few of them." Nireva immediately got the feeling that a few was likely an understatement. The actions of his predecessors had affected the lives of billions and, once he had risen to the point of surrogate culpability, they had all turned their understandable ire on him. Even she had done it. She was doing it right now. But, unlike those who were consumed by their emotional trauma, she saw that this was far from the time for such things. She may have been angry at Christian and the company he now led, but what was the point? If everything was true, he hadn't even been there when the incident had occurred over three years ago.

"A couple of them wrote the articles in these magazines. A few have emailed or called me. Some others have set up regular protests on my headquarters' steps. And a particularly enterprising groupe of them found my address and egged my car, then proceeded to adorn the trees in the yard with toilet paper. I know it happened in that order because there was toilet paper stuck in some of the egg whites on my car. Any one of them would have made an excellent debate partner."

What, was he Sherlock Holmes now? He wasn't just detailing what had happened to him, but deducing the order in which it had occurred. Then again, why the hell would grown men and women stoop to a prank reserved for children who didn't get candy on Hallowe'en? Of course, it was such people who joined various "organisations" just so they could be bigoted assholes in public and hide behind the country's fundamentally flawed legal system. The only reason Nireva herself had entered the United States sixty-two years ago was because there wasn't any armed conflict in the streets. Now, though, it was people like her that wars were being fought against. Apparently, they blamed someone with an ability for the assassination of President Sawyer's predecessor and, more often than not, it was the spreading of blame which formed the basis of just about anything. "You, however, are intelligent and well-spoken, curious, and have a deep-seated need to learn."

It was a little unexpected to be showered with praise from a man she had initially disliked, but Nireva wasn't about to stop him. Continuing to eat her sandwich, she simply took stock of what he was saying in silence. If they were going to talk about Ark, then she needed to know where best to start her next chapter of discourse. "Unlike those others, you would present a challenge. You have questions and perspectives I haven't heard." Did she? Just how much did this man know about her? As far as she was concerned, she despised Ark for being so irresponsible. They had tried to toy with something about which they knew next to nothing in an arena lacking control and, as a result, their efforts had spread across the planet before they even realised something was amiss.

There was a reason laboratories and scientific trials existed. They were there to contain and correctly dispose of any errors which could have arisen as a result of a badly-calculated variable. If they wanted to test synthetic abilities on human subjects, they could have advertised a nondescript drug trial or taken some sort of cue from the movies in order to maintain secrecy. Jenna and a quarter-billion other people had been in the firing line because of their idiocy and there was nothing they could do to change it. "And, as I've mentioned, I've heard many of those and answered them the exact same way. I've heard the stories, too. Those are all different, but they all end the same way, with them blaming me for the things that happened to them or their loved ones on April Fourth. They seem to forget that I wasn't on the Ark side of the press conference that morning."

Well, wasn't that interesting? As her sandwich - now all but consumed completely - was lowered back down, a small smile contorted Nireva's lips. Quietly reading between the lines, she took mental notes of whatever Christian told her; or didn't tell her. Someone in his position who had had nothing at all to do with the official side of what had happened on that day would surely have said something simple such as, I wasn't a part of Ark Industries back then. Christian had simply said he wasn't on Ark's side of the press conference which had ensued after the fact. So, iff he wasn't on the Ark side of the conference, then which side of it had he been on? Maybe this wasn't going to be as bad an idea as she'd been thinking.

"But you have a story too, I'm sure. I'd gamble that it's a difficult one. It's what drives your curiosity and your hatred for Ark. It's the principle for you, I'd guess. We can change our logo and our management, but it won't change what happened. You're right in that. It won't change what happened to you, or to your loved one. It won't change what happened to me, or to millions of people the world over." Stopping for breath, Christian realised that, through all of his rationalising, Nireva hadn't spoken a word. She'd just sat there, analysing him, never once trying to cut him off in order to crowbar in her own viewpoints. "But I'm talking for you, I think. I didn't come here to do that."

"That's awfully nice of you."

Nireva continued to piece everything together in her head, wondering what to pry into first. "The short answer to your question: I think you're interesting... and that any discussion you may offer would, by extension, be interesting." Another sip of water broke up his speech once more. "By the way... I hope you'll call me Christian."

"Suit yourself, Christian," she exhaled quietly. He offered her a couple of things to work with and, now that they were both away from the forum of an official debate meeting - and all of the social convention it implied - she had a chance to get some real answers. Even if she kept them to herself forever and never breathed a word of them to anyone who would try to use them for their own gain, she felt she needed some sort of reasoning to conflict her opinion. She was, in essence, silently daring him to prove her wrong. "Why don't you tell me this? If you were as affected by April Fourth as I was..." She paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully. By saying that the things which had happened to Jenna had, in fact, happened to her, Nireva was obfuscating the true nature of her genetics. With Christian's knowledge of her - and his opinion of abilities in general - something of an unknown, she was deciding to err on the side of caution. "...why did you end up heading the company responsible once you heard of, uh... let's say 'their remodelling'?"

[Christian Moynahan]

I begged you to hear me, there's more than flesh and bones
Let the dead bury the dead, they will come out in droves
But take the spade from my hands and fill in the holes you've made
-Mumford & Sons, "Thistle & Weeds"

Being a chief executive officer was new to Christian, but he had gotten close enough to being one in the very recent past that he was certain he would be spending a good deal of time either in his office or on his company's grounds. For now, Fallon had him doing a world tour of sorts - not really, but she had arranged so many interviews that he did not spend that much time at their headquarters (and he had to wonder whether that was intentional, given her obvious dislike for him). He would enjoy the time outside for now. Then he would focus more on projects and his real work.

And it did seem Nireva could appreciate his visit somewhat, even if it was for somewhat negative reasons. That was something. For his part, he was interested in the conversation and also enjoying the sandwich he had purchased for lunch. He had only so much time to spend here, as Nireva pointed out, but he would make the most of it.

He showed her a few of the magazine covers he had been sent. The articles themselves were… interesting, to say the least. But he would let her read those on her own time, if she so wished. He stacked the magazines and set them to the side for now. Her comment about the media tour being "perks" earned a chuckle from him, and a slight shake of his head, but no remark. He was not a shy person, but he kept his life private, and having to put himself on display, for even as short a time as this, was not the sort of "perk" he enjoyed.

But it was what is was. Part of the reason he had been chosen, he had been told in general terms, not a "spin doctor"; he was very straightforward and, while perfectly adept at doubletalk and such, was not necessarily inclined toward it. Lucius and Gabriel were perfectly capable of that themselves. As Ark's new face - in more ways than he had previously imagined - it was better that he not go about using contradictions and empty words wherever he could. And that went back to one of the reasons for this visit, the need to challenge himself.

Indeed, he was not part of Hollywood, so hopefully the tabloids would not show any interest in him. "I'll be sure to keep from doing cameos or marrying into fame," he replied, his voice a chuckle again. That should be easy enough. Unless Fallon had other intentions. She had gone to town on the whole "too sexy for this job" angle. Inwardly a little he shuddered a little at the thought.

He related the stories of various encounters he'd had with "detractors" - putting it simply in some cases - and then explained his reason for seeking her out specifically. She had her own logical reasons and seemed able to relate and defend them calmly and professionally, and was level-headed enough not to destroy his personal property.

At the moment, though, she remained a bit hostile. He hoped being on a first-name basis would ease that a bit. As he paused to finally give her room to speak - or perhaps, to give her the impression that she could speak freely; it seemed more like courtesy that she had not cut his rambles off previously - it became apparent that he had been absolutely correct in his perceptions of her. She put forth a question that… well, as he had said, was interesting. He would explain by explaining why that was.

He chuckled very, very faintly and toyed with the cuffs of his sleeves for a moment. The response to that question was a bit more personal than he might as well as Nireva might have expected, which was the reason for the break in eye contact. He realized that this might be taken as trying to think up a lie, so he stopped and leaned back in his seat, slipping the magazines back into his briefcase and shutting it with a quiet click, and set it next to him in the booth. This was to give him an opportunity to organize his thoughts. There was very little he did without a particular purpose.

At any rate, he supposed, the veracity of the story he was going to recount was easily verified by a few Google searches. That had been another media circus, actually, but less intentional than the present one in which he found himself, and he had only wound up mentioned in a couple of articles in the local media. Those who had been around him had kept what they had seen him do to themselves, out of respect and gratitude and camaraderie and a bit of love.

"I don't know what happened to you on April Fourth, so it wouldn't be fair for me to say whether I was as affected as you were," he began amiably. Despite the fact that he had located her and showed up for lunch with her uninvited, he actually did not know very much about her - just her name, her appearance, her work at the Jung Facility, and her status as a student at UCLA. Everything else he had left alone, declining to look for any social network profiles or even her chat history on the old chatroom. He would prefer his judgment not be clouded by preconceptions. "Believe it or not, you are the first person to ask me that question. Or rather, to ask me so directly." In an odd way, he appreciated it. It addressed him less as a face of an entity and more as a person.

He moved from the slouch and leaned forward slightly, placing his hands on the table, near his sandwich. "I view the position as a chance to set things right. For everyone who had been affected, not only by that morning, but also by the other projects Ark engaged in. It was an opportunity to actually pay some restitution to all those people, to those lost and who had lost, but… mostly for myself, and those I knew."

He tapped the fingers of his right hand gently against the table, so softly that they did not make much of a sound, just the movement of a memory made tangible.

"I was in Texas. At the time I was a propulsion engineer for an aerospace and defense corporation. We had developed a new prototype and we were testing it at one of our private sites. A small airstrip, far away from most everything except a couple of small towns. It was early in the morning, as you can guess. We'd be running tests all day. There were a couple dozen of us from my engineering team, and a few hundred operators and other lower-level staff that worked at the test site.

"At the time, all I knew of Ark was what I had read in the trade papers. I wasn't particularly interested in them any more than I was in, say, IntelliTouch, or the Kilvayne Corporation as it was in those days, since they weren't very much involved in the field I worked in, as far as any of us laymen could tell. But we had the Ark conference playing on a TV in the break room. Only a couple of us were paying any attention to it. The rest of us, myself included, were out running tests.

"One of my friends was shaking, and I asked him if he was all right. I remember him looking at me like he had seen something in me he hadn't seen before. Like looking at a face and seeing a skeleton, I'd imagine. Pretty soon some metallic items started to float toward him. My stopwatch, someone's wire glasses, then bigger things, parts, vehicles, and we had to move away to avoid being hit. They had to drag me away from him… Another man caught on fire. I guess he picked up pyrokinesis. My supervisor started screaming; she was hearing our thoughts. Almost all of my coworkers were normal civilians, as opposed to having abilities. They all started running about, even the ones who had not manifested anything harmful; they were very much 'freaking out,' and it fell to me to try to calm them all down."

Christian paused and suddenly looked startled, as though remembering he was at a diner and not an airfield in Texas. His gift for storytelling, for relating tales so vividly that listeners often felt as though they were there with him, but it took its own toll on Christian; he was reliving the experience himself. He blinked slowly and regarded Nireva again; now a bit more collected. Here he had to choose how much to reveal; it would determine the course of the rest of his story. He preferred not to expose his status as a Special, but there was little way he could do so and still finish explaining his reasons for joining Ark, so he chose to do so this time. When he spoke next, his voice had its typical placidness, as calm as ever.

"I am a Special and I had already manifested long before that day. Psionic Constructs." He moved his right hand as though picking up a fork and using it; a silver-colored but translucent object shaped like a fork appeared in that hand, and he used it to pick up a bit of lettuce that had fallen from his sandwich and nibbled at is as though he had not just done anything unusual at all. "I was not as adept with my ability then as I am now, but I was good enough to save a few lives. Not enough, but a few." He sighed softly and flicked his fingers; the fork disappeared in a smoke-like puff.

"Now you can imagine that at any airstrip there are a few things that might be of concern. Large quantities of fuel, for one. Another, a number of low-flying aircraft. Two minutes in, those aircraft were falling around us, and on the nearby towns. We could see the explosions in the distance. We decided that our priorities were to get the hell away from there, and to find our pyrokinetic coworker and keep him away from the gaseous elements. I went up to him and talked to him a bit, reassured him. Fortunately my clothes only burned away a bit and my skin was only lightly singed in the process. Three minutes." He made a vague motion with his hand. "We were running. I had my entire team save my supervisor and the one who was now buried under metallic objects. I wasn't thinking about benefits and losses, though I do think of them now. I was thinking about two I'd left behind, and the few hundred people I barely knew but who were still in the vicinity. Some of them were running with us. We didn't get very far on our own feet, and none of us thought about the possibility that something might fall out of the sky onto the test site until it happened."

He rubbed one eyelid slightly. It had been a very long time since he had last told this story, he thought. Even Lucius and Gabriel had not asked about it. Perhaps they had already known it. "When I heard the explosion, I turned around on dumb instinct, and I cast a psionic shield over the group of us. Most everyone got the hint and stayed within the shield. It wasn't completely impenetrable, and a bit of debris passed through, but it kept us from the heat and fire and smoke. I managed to hold the shield for three minutes or so. By then it was over, but the test site was still burning. We found a small medical transport and took care of ourselves there."

Again he stopped to exhale and reset. "Casualties in the hundreds. The only survivors were only the ones who stayed within my bubble. As for the nearby towns, they had similar fates." Now his fingers curled slightly. "I owe them a debt. At first, when I began the interview process with Ark, I thought maybe I'd get in and I'd tear the whole thing down. But then I met Archie Cane, and Keane Wright, and many others there, scientists, people who were honestly trying to do their best for society and for curiosity. Most of them hadn't even been there for April Fourth. So I changed my approach: if I secured the position, I would build Ark into something better than it was. I would turn it around and make it something almost worth all those lives lost in its unwitting service."

He tilted his head slightly. "It won't be an easy task, but it is one at which I will succeed. But the true test won't be what we make or cure, but whether our doing so reassures those who have rightfully come to despise us, and and whether we inspire others in doing so." He gave her a faint smile. "Which, I suppose, is another reason for my interest in you."

[Nireva Hale]

A painful picture that I can't forget.
Now what I see... is what I get!
______________________________Celldweller - "Switchback"

"I don't know what happened to you on April Fourth..."

The ruse was managing to hold for the time being. Although Christian had done a certain degree of research into the woman he'd managed to track down, it seemed that, for whatever reason, he had refrained from delving too deeply into her life. His amiable disposition made no suggestion that he knew of the things she did for a living; to help her girlfriend Jenna pay the rent. As far as Nireva was concerned, her secret "double life" as an exotic dancing immortal was safe. The chatroom - which had now been adopted by her grandmother's company - was a place where people like her were able to speak freely about the intricacies of their lives and, while topics often revolved around the same cluster of subjects, she couldn't deny that its origin had been with Ark.

"...so it wouldn't be fair for me to say whether I was as affected as you were." It was a little unexpected to hear the new head of Ark Industries speaking so candidly about a day which many people, including those in his employ, sorely wished to forget. If nothing else, it was piquing her interest; making her curious as to why he had decided to be this open with her. After all, she was one of his presumably many detractors. She had silently bemoaned the time-wasting of both him and Ark's board of directors ever since the news of Christian's appointment had been made public. Between them, they were trying an almost Frankenstein-esque method of injecting new life into the corporation in an effort to save it from self-destruction.

Once it was known that Christian and the accompanying publicity team - or whatever the hell they'd been - had made plans to hold their town hall meeting on the UCLA campus, word had quickly spread that some of the more vocal people against Ark, people more vocal than her, were intending to stage a protest. For a series of fleeting moments on the run-up to the big day, Nireva had actually been tempted to join the protest herself. Once upon a time, protesting was something she wouldn't have thought twice about doing but, now that she was immeasurably wiser, she was able - albeit with some difficulty - to talk herself out of signing up. Instead, she had taken the more rational approach and made her way to the campus auditorium. Her own opinions on the matter had already been decided, which meant the fairest thing to do was to hear what Ark themselves had to say.

This, however, had been something she hadn't expected. There weren't many people - whether part of the world's press or otherwise - who were able to count themselves among the fraternity that had engaged in a one-on-one discussion with the new face of Ark Industries. "Believe it or not, you are the first person to ask me that question. Or rather, to ask me so directly."

"I guess that speaks volumes about the media if they didn't have the forethought to add it to their list of inquiries," she sighed, musing mostly to herself, but allowing the statement to hang in the air in case Christian himself wanted to weigh in. Watching as the man across from her leaned forward, resting his hands on the edge of the table, Nireva politely awaited his response. Unlike how she assumed many of the rest of his interviewers had conducted themselves, she wasn't going to deliberately talk over him. Regardless of his job, he was still an intellectual equal. "I view the position as a chance to set things right. For everyone who had been affected, not only by that morning, but also by the other projects Ark engaged in. It was an opportunity to actually pay some restitution to all those people, to those lost and who had lost, but... mostly for myself, and those I knew."

At least he recognised that Ark had far more than its fair share of issues. At least he was actually cognizant of the myriad mistakes his former subordinates had committed. As much as Nireva wanted to despise him for daring to assume the mantle of such a demonised entity, Christian was redeeming himself; slowly but surely, little by little. It was going to take some time to accomplish what he'd set out to do, but at least he was laying the groundwork for the endeavour. "I was in Texas," he began once more, explaining his story. "At the time, I was a propulsion engineer for an aerospace and defence corporation. We had developed a new prototype and we were testing it at one of our private sites. A small airstrip, far away from most everything except a couple of small towns."

Even before landing his job at Ark, Christian was a man of importance. "It was early in the morning, as you can guess." While she listened, Nireva gradually finished off the last of her sandwich, taking the occasional drink as she took the information in. "We'd be running tests all day. There were a couple dozen of us from my engineering team, and a few hundred operators and other lower-level staff that worked at the test site. At the time, all I knew of Ark was what I had read in the trade papers. I wasn't particularly interested in them any more than I was in... say, IntelliTouch or the Kilvayne Corporation as it was in those days, since they weren't very much involved in the field I worked in, as far as any of us laymen could tell."

So he was familiar with her grandmother's company. It wasn't much of a surprise, given Intellitouch's size, but the sudden name-dropping was enough to keep her attention fixed in place. Nireva wasn't entirely sure how easy it was for a man as resourceful as Christian to completely figure her out; to find out all of her dirty little secrets. She'd already told him one lie already - that she had been one of the people directly affected by Ark's legendary misstep - but it had been a lie of necessity. It was almost instinctive nowadays for her to conceal her ability from the people she didn't trust. As friendly as he might have been, Christian was one such person. As he continued to talk, the recently adopted thoughtful expression on her face remained fixed in place.

"But we had the Ark conference playing on a TV in the break room. Only a couple of us were paying any attention to it. The rest of us, myself included, were out running tests."

"I don't think there were many people who paid attention to the conference before it went wrong." Lazily playing with the cap from her bottle of lemon-flavoured water by prodding it with her finger, Nireva continued to make the occasional comment as she listened to him.

It was only now that Christian reached the most intriguing - and harrowing - part of his tale. "One of my friends was shaking, and I asked him if he was all right. I remember him looking at me like he had seen something in me he hadn't seen before. Like looking at a face and seeing a skeleton, I'd imagine. Pretty soon, some metallic items started to float toward him. My stopwatch, someone's wire glasses, then bigger things, parts, vehicles, and we had to move away to avoid being hit. They had to drag me away from him," He let out a small sigh as he paused for a moment. Like for anyone else who had been granted an ability for those few minutes - or seen someone who had - the memories were still somewhat fresh in his mind. "Another man caught on fire. I guess he picked up pyrokinesis. My supervisor started screaming; she was hearing our thoughts. Almost all of my coworkers were normal civilians, as opposed to having abilities. They all started running about, even the ones who had not manifested anything harmful; they were very much freaking out, and it fell to me to try to calm them all down."

His ability for reminiscence reminded her of how Thane Krios from Mass Effect was able to recall almost every moment of his life in startling detail. While Christian was far more long-winded than the fictional Drell assassin, the principle was similar. After saying so much about the subject in one go, he needed to take a short break in order to compose himself. It was only when he spoke again that Nireva was made privy as to why. "I am a Special and I had already manifested long before that day," he announced, his right hand beginning to move. As though it was grasping something invisible, Christian lowered his hand down to where a piece of lettuce had fallen onto the table beside his other hand.

Almost in response to his vague motion, a shimmering, silvery object winked into life between his fingers, its prongs impaling the lettuce as though it was completely real and had always been there. "Psionic Constructs," was the explanation. Using willpower alone, he was able to create objects with which he could interact with the world. Albeit with the absence of a matching costume, it was like watching the Green Lantern in real life; only silver and creating something much smaller instead of a fully functioning minigun. "I was not as adept with my ability then as I am now, but I was good enough to save a few lives. Not enough, but a few."

With a flick of his fingers, the psionic fork was instantly dissolved, the energy used to create it withering away to nothing in the blink of an eye. And, once he'd fully composed himself, he went right back to regaling Nireva about his story of what had happened to him - or, rather, his former colleagues - on April Fourth. He told her about how he had tried to save as many people from the test site as possible. The man who had suddenly become the world's most powerful electromagnet had already been lost by the time he'd started to run, having been buried beneath everything he'd managed to pull into his vicinity. Being the epicentre of his own uncontrollable phenomenon, escape had been impossible. There was no way he could outrun the laws of physics. Aircraft were being pulled out of the sky, exploding as they unceremoniously slammed into the ground around the towns.

The pyrokinetic, thankfully, was someone Christian had managed to calm down before the flames got too close to the volatile gas and, with little more than his clothes the worse for wear, he had rounded up as many members of his team as he could before trying to make his escape. That was, of course, until another colossal object was pulled from the sky. Operating on instinct, Christian had crafted a psionic bubble; a powerful barrier which repelled the brunt of the normally deadly assault. Hundreds had been injured or killed at the test site alone and the nearby towns hadn't fared any better. But, in amongst the almost regretful musings about wanting to save more people than he had, Christian had yet more revelations to offer.

"At first, when I began the interview process with Ark, I thought maybe I'd get in and I'd tear the whole thing down." He'd actually wanted to destroy Ark from the inside out..? Well, that was definitely interesting and certainly not something he would have admitted in any of his press conferences. Were she a journalist, Nireva would have been able to craft a damning scandal against him. But she wasn't. She was probably the safest bet in the entire UCLA student body with whom he could have a conversation. "But then I met Archie Cane and Keane Wright, and many others there; scientists, people who were honestly trying to do their best for society and for curiosity. Most of them hadn't even been there for April Fourth. So I changed my approach: if I secured the position, I would build Ark into something better than it was. I would turn it around and make it something almost worth all those lives lost in its unwitting service."

But that last part was quick to dredge up a little cynicism on Nireva's part. "Never gonna happen," she retorted flatly. "No matter what you or Ark accomplish now, it'll never make up for the deaths of hundreds of millions of people. You aren't going to be able to erase it from the public consciousness; not completely. Ark's dark chapter has been forever consigned to history. And I know a little bit about what history's like."

Thankfully, Christian stopped her from saying too much. She'd come rather close to revealing that she too was a Special; one for whom the rigours of time meant nothing. "It won't be an easy task, but it is one at which I will succeed. But the true test won't be what we make or cure, but whether our doing so reassures those who have rightfully come to despise us, and whether we inspire others in doing so. Which, I suppose, is another reason for my interest in you."

Was she really the right person to try and quickly inspire? Not even Nireva herself was entirely sure. But for a man who had only been around for a few decades, she could at least admire him just a little for trying. "I'm hardly the cheerleader type, Christian," she remarked, draining the last of the lemon water from the bottle in her hand. "You're right in that it's going to take a lot for you and the rest of Ark to start winning people back over. But..." She gave him another look. There was more than a little perseverance behind those eyes. Even she could spot it. "...I think you might actually be able to pull it off. Eventually."

[Christian Moynahan]

I don't worry about what the wind could carry off
I don't plan to run at the sound of sirens
I know there will be no one to dust me off… but me
Should there be reprise in the form of violence
-Codec, "Gra"

His handlers would probably have recommended checking this woman's background for everything, past history, violent crimes, parking violations, school write-ups, everything. If he'd had any handlers. Neither Lucius nor Gabriel had assigned him any, aware as they were that he could take care of himself and, perhaps more importantly in his position, had an excellent sense of judgment. In cases such as this one, as well, he preferred to be surprised. He preferred the person to speak for herself, for him to pick up his own sense of her with judgment unclouded by past or irrelevant facts.

Christian decided he was correct in guessing that she preferred the truth to any sort of veneers or even straightforward lies. Most people did. The exceptions tended to exist in the political arena or in the upper business echelons. Nireva did not seem to have much interest in either of those, thankfully. He'd had his fill of both and he wasn't near done with them.

So he had been honest. Almost painfully so. He had informed - or reminded - her about his stance on Ark's future, just the same as he had told everything else, but he had also told her about things few or no others were yet cognizant of; the damage to his house and car, which his superiors had been made aware of, and also - in his long-winded, descriptive way - of his experiences on April Fourth, which almost no one save the other survivors at his test area knew about. It was no secret, but he did not often speak of it, simply because it was not among his best memories. As Nireva herself had noted as he had had to stop at times to compose himself.

Indeed, it did speak volumes about the media that they had not asked about his own motives. Sure, they had asked about his plans, the hiring process (which he could not talk much about as per his co-chairmen), his background, and, as he had mentioned in passing, his personal life, but there were things they did not dare ask. A few of his interviewers seemed dimly aware that he was a Special, which was also no secret, but he did prefer to limit the number of individuals who knew the specifics of what he could do.

"Oh, there weren't," Christian interrupted his tale briefly to assure her when she commented on the viewership of the ill-fated Ark press conference of 2010. "I've seen the numbers. We were because one of the technicians found it interesting. Otherwise the TV might have been tuned to early morning cartoons or something." He smiled very briefly before going on to explain what had happened next.

They had only realized that the disastrous events had been worldwide, and that it had been a direct result of what that press conference had been intended to disclose, that evening when they were recovering in a small hospital nearby. Really, to call it a hospital was to be overly generous; most of the equipment they'd used to heal themselves had been the bit of stuff a few of their number had managed to salvage before taking flight from the site. The building itself had only really served as a comfort and to fill them in on all they had missed on the airstrip.

He would have chuckled at the comparisons to the Drell assassin or the Green Lantern, as he was familiar with both, having been an avid gamer before taking the reins at Ark, and having been fond of comic books and their TV adaptations in his youth. Occasionally he wondered whether those times were long gone, whether his position as CEO would give him so much work that he would not have a personal life at all. He occasionally had a bit of fun using an anonymous account on IntelliTouch's new chatroom, but that was a little different. He had a tendency for hyperbole there. It was amusing, at least.

So far, his sandwich remained about one-third eaten, as he had not taken a bite (aside from that bit of lettuce on the psionic fork) during his recounting of April Fourth as he had experienced it, while Nireva's lunch seemed to have come to an end. The young woman - by Christian's unwitting perception, of course - was faster to respond than he had expected, and quite in the negative, which disappointed Christian more than a little. He bowed his head and closed his eyes for a moment, a genuine expression of supplication. He was quite aware of the challenges posed by having to make up for the death and destruction, the families torn apart and the communities reduced to ashes. Even he did not believe they would ever quite surmount that event. He remembered watching the Senate hearing and thinking it was an absolute circus. And yes, he had once intended to tear the company apart given the chance. But he would do his damnedest to bring the corporation as close as he could to a level where, despite its many past mistakes and lapses in judgment, it could be at least respected again, rather than inspire the hatred that it currently did.

He would succeed in that; he was certain of it. He had already begun. And it seemed his determination had convinced Nireva, just a little. It was enough for now. Christian returned her look with a gentle smile. "Eventually. If I don't manage it in my tenure, or in my lifetime, I will ensure that my successors do." Then he tilted his head and gave her a confident smirk, a sort of teasing one. "But in all honesty, I have a selfish hope that I'll be the one to do it."

Pausing for just a moment for a drink of water, he continued. "There's something of a precedent for it. I do not intend to justify Ark's misjudgments by comparing them to past ones, but there are other companies that have apologized and attempted to make restitution in the past. Some apologized for their roles in slavery. A couple of others have apologized for their roles in the Holocaust. Some of those have additionally attempted to make restitution. None of them have been widely accepted. Still, it's a precedent. Ark has bigger shoes to fill. Whether we'll manage it remains to be seen, but again, I think it's more than worth the effort."

Nodding toward her sandwich and water, he picked up his own sandwich and started to wrap it up in its greasy wax-paper. "I wouldn't want to keep you past your time if you have classes or other engagements, but I am interested in hearing any other thoughts you might have on the subject, or on any others." He did wonder what kind of experience she'd had during April Fourth, and, indeed, whether she was a civilian, as she appeared to be so far. Something in the back of his mind gave the impression that she was a Special, but he had no idea why that was. It was an intuition he couldn't quite place. "Otherwise, we could keep in contact, if you're interested."

The fork, he realized suddenly. The thought occurred to him with such a jolt that it reflected in his expression, though he offered no reason for it, despite being fully aware of its presence on his face. His eyes had widened slightly, and were looking beyond her again, but this time only for the slightest of moments. Then he blinked, returned to Earth and smiled. It was the fork. More specifically, her reaction to it, which had been nearly none. Either she was a Special, or she was around enough of them that any sort of ability did not faze her at all. Interesting.

Whether she chose to stay or leave, she already had enough on him to put him in quite a quandary. That would be interesting as well. She knew about his ability, and his original plans for Ark, and his April Fourth story, and those alone could have damaged his reputation a bit. He was not overly worried, though. Although he preferred not to spin things, any matter could be viewed in any number of lights. It was just a matter of choosing - or forcing - the right ones.

He gave her a genuine smile. "Ark could certainly use some cheerleaders," he said, going back to that earlier comment. "But those will be the ones who we can convince early on. They'll be the easy ones. The converts, the insufferable defenders. Much like fans during sports seasons." He chuckled. "And that's all well and good. But, as you can tell, I'm aiming a little higher than that."

Who could you love
enough?

---

Christian's sources regarding public apologies:
Wachovia
Aetna
CSX (paragraph six)
S.N.C.F.
Bayer

Also, everyone needs to start listening to Codec like right now.

[Nireva Hale]

'Cause you could've been number one...
...if you'd only found the time.
And you could've ruled the whole world...
...if you'd had the chance.
______________________________Muse - "Uno"

"Eventually," Christian said, echoing her sentiment to a certain degree. Nireva was beginning to find that the new head of Ark Industries was something of a surprise in more ways than one. As well as outing himself to her as a Special, he was also restrained enough in his ambitions to realise that there was always going to be the possibility that even someone as proficient as him might not be able to witness the fruition of his intent during his time in his unique position. "If I don't manage it in my tenure - or in my lifetime - I will ensure that my successors do." As cautious and restrained as he may have been, Christian simply wasn't able to rid himself of that brief cocky smirk. It was something, Nireva surmised, that all of these "youngsters" couldn't help but think. They truly thought anything was possible when, in actual fact, there were things which people with longevity far beyond even her own could pull off. "But, in all honesty, I have a selfish hope that I'll be the one to do it."

"Honestly? I'd be very surprised if you didn't have a hope like that" Nireva was trying to keep herself as guarded as was humanly possible in the presence of such a perceptive man. She'd already thrown him a lie about what had happened to her on April Fourth and, in the back of her mind, there was the nagging feeling that his acceptance of that lie was little more than just a need to be polite. He was probably calling bullshit on what she'd said on the subject in some darkened recess of his mind, but was simply being too nice to actually call her out on it. Given that she was also one of the many people who despised the name of the corporation for which he worked, the circumstances which surrounded their meeting made the social interaction something of a tightrope act.

"There's something of a precedent for it," Christian went on, steering the topic back towards his company's precarious situation. "I do not intend to justify Ark's misjudgements by comparing them to past ones, but there are other companies that have apologised and attempted to make restitution in the past. Some apologised for their roles in slavery. A couple of others have apologised for their roles in the Holocaust." Although the articles detailing such measures had slipped her by, Nireva was certain that the businessman was telling the truth. There had always been some sense of a "sins of the father" dynamic about fiscal history and, since the Renaissance, she was sure that there were more than the well-published half-dozen that had certain skeletons in their closets.

Granted, it didn't make much in the way of sense to her, with many of the people responsible being dead for decades, if not centuries, but it was apparently often necessary to clear the air about the darkened chapters of a company's past; if only to allow the people at the helm in the present to get on with running their business without the constant lingering shadow. "Some of those have additionally attempted to make restitution. None of them have been widely accepted. Still, it's a precedent. Ark has bigger shoes to fill." While organisations, such as the one governing France's national railway system, had waited almost seventy years before only making amends once their backs were against the wall, Ark was wasting as little time as possible.

The corporation had been in turmoil ever since the disaster and it was only now, that they had found some semblance of stability, that they had taken advantage of their situation. Although they were a little late for the anniversary, it was still only three years since April Fourth. Under Christian's leadership, it seemed as though Ark were very much averse to allowing the wounds to fester. "Whether we'll manage it remains to be seen, but again, I think it's more than worth the effort."

Despite her somewhat pessimistic doubts about the collective ability of humanity to right their various wrongs, Nireva was happy to spoonfeed Christian a little optimism. A dose of sunshine, rainbows and kittens to offset the mountainous dread his detractors must have been heaping on his shoulders ever since the news of his appointment went public. "The world needs these... genetic research and biotechnology companies right now, I think," When it came down to synthetically bestowing abilities onto the mundane, Nireva wasn't entirely sure on which side of the proverbial fence she felt she stood. There were some scenarios which had already played themselves out in her mind about what she dearly wanted to be possible - such as Jenna sharing in her immortality - but if Ark tried to repeat their prior experiments and succeeded, the whole world would possess an ability.

Specials simply wouldn't be special anymore and, as arrogant as it sounded, there was just something about that eventuality which simply didn't sit right with her. Of course, with human nature in the way, the odds of someone doing something akin to giving the whole planet free guns and ammunition without regard for legality were remote. "If they all stuck to aims that bettered mankind, like curing disease or whatever else they do, then maybe people would learn to accept companies like Ark and Intellitouch." It felt a little odd to indirectly speak ill of her grandmother's company, but it would have been foolish to ignore the camps opposed to all things genetic.

Shooting a brief glance over Christian's right shoulder, Nireva took note of the time displayed on the clock. Had it been that long, already? Although her timetable wasn't as strict today as she remembered it to be tomorrow, studying towards a medical degree was one of those situations in which she didn't want to miss a single lecture. "I wouldn't want you to keep you past your time if you have classes or other engagements," Christian remarked, wrapping up his half-eaten sandwich. "But I am interested in hearing any other thoughts you might have on the subject, or on any others. Otherwise, we could keep in contact, if you're interested."

Keeping a close watch on Christian's face as it shifted to one of dawning realisation, Nireva spoke again, keeping the clock in the frame of her vision as much as possible. "I'm not really sure what keeping in contact with me would really accomplish, to be honest with you." As far as he was concerned, she was just a cynical medical student. In this lifetime, she offered somewhat less to the world in general compared to a few of her other "incarnations". She wasn't a renowned vineyard apprentice or a travelling scholar or even a French noblewoman who had ascended to the heights of minor folklore; not this time around. She was a volunteer assistant at the Jung Facility, who was studying to become a fully-fledged doctor and dancing near-naked in a club during her time off. Innocuous. Unlike her relatives and forebears, it was how she liked to exist if she could help it. "But, with you being the head of a big company now, I think you could use talks like this; something to stop you inheriting the ego of the guy you replaced."

"Ark could certainly use some cheerleaders," Christian eventually mused, returning to one of Nireva's earlier comments. While she wouldn't have seen any harm in Ark putting together a troupe of attractive, uniformly clad women like the beginning of Iron Man 2, she doubted anyone in Ark's board of directors would have seen it as a prudent use of their funds. "But those will be the ones who we can convince early on. They'll be the easy ones. The converts, the insufferable defenders. Much like fans during sports seasons." A brief chuckle escaped his lips as he found himself unable to hold back the amusing comment. "And that's all well and good. But, as you can tell, I'm aiming a little higher than that."

"Of course." Nireva knew where this was going. "You find ways to get the influential to back you and all of their supporters will fall in line. But..." Rising to her feet, Nireva took the empty bottle and wrapper and dumped them into the nearest bin. "It's nowhere near enough to just aim for what you're trying to accomplish. You'll have to be prepared to compromise on more than a few things. 'Cause you're the head of Ark, you see? Nobody's going to let you simply walk out of the door with what you want."

[Christian Moynahan]

Satellites, send us a savior
Satisfy these simple behaviors
-10 Years, "Minus The Machine"

There seemed to be an element of understanding between them now, if there hadn't been before. In truth, he was taking all of it very carefully, 'with a grain of salt' as was so often said. Everything had a number of different perspectives, some accurate, some less so. Looking at some case, or listening to a sentence, in only one way, then much of the context and meaning was lost. That was one of the fundamental mistakes so prevalent among society, and the source of many misunderstandings. Christian knew he was far from perfect in that, but he did try to sidestep such failings when he could.

So when Nireva commented about the necessity of biotech and other such companies, Christian found it both genuine and hollow, at the same time. It seemed she had some belief in the statement, but also provided it as a kind of filler… almost in a cheerleading aspect, to return to that metaphor. In some ways he appreciated it, but in others he wished she hadn't said it. So far, she had been perfectly straightforward. He had to wonder whether he had over-spoken, or whether he was exuding any sort of air of need for validation. Or perhaps his perceptions were simply wrong. That was, of course, possible. Rare, but possible.

He bowed his head slightly and nodded, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "We're working on that," he said, a little quietly, or at least more quietly than before, since Christian tended to speak very softly. "I'd like to see Ark take on a much more philanthropic role. We have to meet certain measures regarding revenue and profits, but that should never be all a corporation is. Corporations are made up of people, after all. People who share a common duty, to improve our own society."

Of course, he reflected, there was a bit of unfairness in taking her words from different angles, since Christian himself had his own angles, and they weren't quite as innocent or well-meant. His words and thoughts and intentions were honest; they just didn't quite cover everything. Was Ark taking a new direction, much better for the people, much more transparent and well-intentioned? Yes, it absolutely was, and Christian was proud to have been part of the catalyst for that change, and the man at the head of it. Had Ark changed its stance to be more balanced between Specials and civilians, to promote equality? Yes, and very solidly. Was Ark still involved in questionable testing practices and business deals? Yes. Christian was just very well trained in not saying so.

The idea behind it was that the more honest one was on one's positive attributes, the more likely others were to neglect to ask about or harp on one's negative aspects. That was going to be a challenge for Ark because everyone was looking for those negative aspects, but Christian felt they had gotten off to a good start with the press conference and town hall meeting. It would be like doing a one-hundred-eighty degree turn without leaving point zero. How did one manage to do that?

Illusions. Playing one image to disguise another.

Her next comment, though, felt entirely honest and genuine. And she was correct; talks like this one would certainly keep him grounded, and offer a clear perspective on the work he and his corporation were doing. However, while this particular meeting had been inspired in part by a wish to test himself and gain an inside perspective into what some of his staunchest detractors might be thinking, he had no intention to use her. Christian was many things, and not all of them positive, but he was not the sort to take advantage of honest and genuine intentions. Any contact they had from here on out would be far more straightforward. Although, of course, he was not perfectly sure how much she had picked up on regarding his intentions in this moment.

And in honesty - the word of the moment - there were moments in which he wondered whether he should not have kept on the same track he had been on before Gabriel and Lucius extended their offer to him. He was likely to have become a vice president at the company at which he had been employed, possibly within five or seven years. That company was not widely known, but where it was known, it had an excellent reputation. Once Christian rose to those heights within it, the work would have been nothing; he would have directed some development projects or maybe overseen with business-to-business transactions, but he would have been able to something he loved with very little pressure. Instead, he had elected to take on one of the top roles at a company with the worst reputation modern society had ever seen, cleaning up messes he had not made; a process which he would have to get to at least a manageable level before he could begin to reach the parts of the work he would enjoy. He questioned that decision more often than he felt he should have; he lost sleep over it sometimes. Apprehension. Anxiety. A fear that he wouldn't be able to pull it off.

And then once the apprehension passed, he reminded himself that the work was a challenge and he'd never backed down from a challenge before.

"You're right, of course. I suspect I already have enough ego." He chuckled softly. "If you don't mind my seeking your opinions from time to time, I would appreciate the ability to do so. And, of course, if there's anything I could do in return, I hope you'd let me know." His hands tugged the wax-paper firmly into place before setting the partly-eaten sandwich to the side. He would take it back to the office and finish it while pretending to listen to Fallon outlining her ideas about more interviews and public outings.

But then Nireva pointed out his own thoughts, in a way; that there would be no open doors for him, simply because of his position. It didn't matter that he had an excellent degree or that he had spotless records from the companies he had worked for in the past; his employers probably would still give rave reviews of his work with them. He wondered what they thought of his ascension to Ark's proverbial throne.

"So I've found." He rose once she did, and picked up the sandwich and his briefcase. "Locked and boarded doors, I'd imagine. I've never shied away from kicking those down…." He found a very fitting hole in his own metaphor, and finished it in a very quiet voice. "No matter how much it might hurt." Glancing to Nireva now, he gave her a bright smile and a chuckle. "All in all, it's a welcome challenge. I expect I'll rise to the occasion. So will Ark." He gave her another smile, one of gratitude. "Thank you for your time, Miss Hale. You've been extraordinarily patient and helpful." She had been, and she really hadn't had to be. He was truly glad for that. "Perhaps you'll let me buy lunch another time."