ukan | IC CONTACT

He doesn't even think. He just moves his hand to put it against Lark's back to try and offer comfort, contact. Something.

"Fighting's a good sign. It means he's not leaning into the deference. And. It means you both care about what's going on. Fighting means you're working on it."

The response is immediate: a relaxing of his posture, a need to be closer. "I don't know how to let myself feel... like I'm not the same as they were. God knows I trample people sometimes, like they did."

"It's an easy trap to fall into," he says with a sideways look, "but it's also a bad one. Being them? Gives you an out. It means you can't get better."

He offers a crooked smile as he leans in a little.

"Whereas I? Know you can."

He glances at him, reflecting again on how glad he is that he brought Warren into the pack. He's never been sentimental about his packmates: they carry his DNA and now Warren does too. But it's only with Warren that he feels a sense of family because of it.

"I'm going to push very hard for you and Jacobi to come with me when we're all done here, Warren." Just so he's prepared.

"I think Iris had some ideas too," he says with a quick grin, "but. nothing so far? Seems to contradict. So. As long as you can charm Maxwell? You've probably got us."

He keeps walking.

"Jacobi's family's useless. Maxwell has a restraining order on hers. Mine is all dead. And Goddard? Is going to be a mess."

"You've never told me much about Maxwell," he says, a distinct hint for him to do so now. He wants all the details.

There's a hesitation, but he'll explain it before he continues.

"I... don't talk about her? Because I got her killed. And... it doesn't feel like I... deserve to. But she? Is why I'm here."

But his smile stays on, crooked as it is.

"Dr. Alana Maxwell is the most brilliant programmer, AI specialist and linguist you've ever met. Yes, even counting here. She's... essentially, Jacobi's platonic soulmate. And she's-" How to explain? "if I needed a daughter or a sister or an aunt, she... fills that role for me. Ur family. None of those and all."

"How did you meet her?" He knows Warren has spent time with a dozen brilliant people. What he's curious about is how else Maxwell is special; what sort of person fits his need for family? Not everyone could.

"Recruited her, same as Jacobi," he says easily enough, though there's a huff of a laugh as he adds, "not that she made it easy. I had to set up an entire operations hub to show off the level of sophistication in Goddard's AI program to entice her away from the idiots who were holding her back."

He loves hearing about Warren's schemes. It makes him a touch homesick, and a touch excited for the things they could do. "which brings me to Goddard, who I'm almost sure you never mentioned before."

"Because it's a what, not a who," he says as he reaches over for a cookie, "Goddard Futuristics. The company I worked for. The flag I marched under. The master I ripped myself apart for. Oh, they had a President and a CEO and all of that? But anyone who was anyone? knew that the company was run by the head of communications: Marcus Cutter."

His nose twitches at the name itself.

"Originally known as Matthew Newman, and also known as Jonas Highland, Arthur Keller, Charles Kerr, Wyllis Fletcher, R.W. Niemann, and of course... William Carter, co-author of Pryce and Carter's Deep Space Survival Procedure and Protocol Manual. There's a copy in the library. Not that I need it. I've had it memorized for years."

"He had a sense of humor," Lark notes, dry. Any good head of communications would. "What did he want that ran so counter to what you did?"

"And a voice like an ice pick in your ear," Kepler says with absolutely no fondness. "You mean by the end? Because for twenty-something years... I was his man. His top man. The things I did for him? 'Kill' was somewhere near the middle of the list."

Lark, thankfully, has never been beholden to anyone that way. He imagines the weapon Kepler was and pities the people he must have shredded like so much wet tissue paper.

"What made you decide to stop?"

There's a lot of things that he's said about this. And there's a lot of feelings. None of it was untrue. Not one bit. He'd died for his principles, for what he wanted to do in life, to be the man his grandfather should have seen raised. He died to save the world, and to try and heal some of the harm his unknowing (or perhaps just ill-considered) actions had caused.

"Daniel was on the other side."

That's...

That's the bottom of it. And always will be.

"I can argue that my decision to find a more peaceful way to power was because of logistics. I can argue that so well no one would ever guess that the real reason, the only reason, I decided was because of Alec. To give him a shot at a real life in a real world."

"Have to save the world," he agrees with a quick grin, "otherwise, where would Daniel keep his cheeses?"

"Oh so he likes cheese? I'll keep that in mind if we ever double date."

Oh that has him pausing.

"The man loves cheese. But. He's very picky."

There's a single fond smile as he clearly remembers something from the past bfore he keeps going.

"I can give you hints if you want. Or let you guess for it to come off as more genuine."

"I only just got him to tolerate me, I'll take the hints. If it goes well," and that is an 'if'. Lark and Alec have an abysmal track record for double dating, "I'll guess next time."

"I'll write down a few good options. Nothing too specific but... it'll look good."

Kepler knows how to curate information just so. And for Lark? He'll do his best.

"Take your time, make it nice." An expression that tries to be a smile and is more the smile given after missing a step. "Alec isn't even up yet. And he'll want to clean the house before we have anyone over."

He'll take the opportunity to nudge him with his shoulder, which is as much a bit of supportive affection as it is a way of throwing off some of that sad smile.

"I should have you over for dinner in the meantime. It's honest? A crime I haven't."

Something in his chest loosens and he realizes just how long it's been since he sat down and ate with pack. "Yeah. What time?"

“We could head there now if you don’t mind sitting in the kitchen with me while I make it,” he says cheerfully. He likes Lark’s company. And they’d worked things out so Jacobi won’t be cranky.

Honestly, Jacobi hasn’t been cranky much at all lately, not really. His usual ‘still breathing’ level of crankiness but nothing more than that.

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ukan - 2021-10-17 00:29 (UTC) - Expand

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