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xp_logsBackdated to the day after Behold, a Black Horse , Marie-Ange meets with Doug over coffee to discuss the connections Doug made to the last sets of Horsemen, from this universe and others, and the potential for his nanites to be compromised.
It was the morning after the clash in Alabama that had resulted in Darcy's injuries and the report of Malice leading the Marauders in an attempt to deal with the Horsemen that Clan Akkaba was sending out. Doug came to Marie-Ange's room uncharacteristically early in the day, seeking her out after the discussion they had the previous day. "Hey," he said wearily as he entered to see her already sitting at the small table adjacent to the kitchenette, one mug in front of her and one at the empty chair that he lowered himself into.
"There are toaster pastries in the... toaster.' Marie-Ange pointed with her coffee mug. "Have you slept, or have you been indentured to the aftermath of your girlfriend and your mutual ex girlfriend's encounters?" She had cards on the table, as usual, but this deck was oil slick colors, pink and cyan and neon blue, marked with a shimmer of silver. "The metaphor is obvious but we need to be cards on the table about the connections you made."
"Might've dozed for a few minutes here and there, but that's about it," Doug admitted as he stood, grabbed the pastries, and then sat again. The coffee was exactly the way he took it, and still warm. "Malice hit her with some lingering nausea crap on top of the clawing and biting." Referring to Laurie by her seemingly preferred moniker helped to keep him on an even keel. He chuckled dryly. "You know, I never had quite the appreciation for Amanda's whole 'personal isn't always the same as important' bit as I do now that a bit of personal history has popped up leading a strike team against us."
"Ah, good, I can skip some of my frustrated speech about a sense of urgency when asked to speak with me as soon as possible." Marie-Ange said. "I am benching you for anything Akkaba related, and I want you to speak to Molly or Clinton about the nanites in Alaska. Too much of this is alarming me, and readings for you have been erratic since you ... " She trailed off, looking off into the distance for a moment. "Adopted your collective? What is the phrase we are using now?"
Doug nodded along as Marie-Ange layed her reasoning out. "I usually go with 'unionized'. Something something collective bargaining." He took a bite of toaster pastry and then washed it down with some coffee. "Comm support or otherwise away from the action," he said steadily. There was a time when he would have protested and wanted to be at the forefront no matter what. "Besides, given Clan Akkaba's tendencies toward mysticism, having a major allergic reaction isn't that far behind being unwittingly drawn into something in terms of nonproductive outcomes." He nodded toward where he had placed his phone on the table. "And I'll get with Clinto as quickly as I can to see what light he can shed on things."
"Good. I had forgotten that the alternate you in Essex's manufactured universe was a Horseman, but the details trouble me." She took a very long drink from her mug, and set it down. "That Doug also could regenerate. Once you reminded me, I spoke with Angelo about what he remembered. I cannot imagine how Essex would have future sight, or an awareness that you would adopt a techno-organic colony or if it was a very lucky guess. Either way, I want you to spent your time researching the nanites and their progenitor. Who is this Fixer person, what is his background before he created them?"
Doug's expression went a little vacant, then very puzzled. "Do what now?" he asked, but before Marie-Ange could respond, he shook his head. "That was to the friendos. Apparently 'administrator Fixer' did not create them. He just found them and started using them for his own purposes." He drummed the fingers of his left hand on the table, considering the implications. "Now I definitely need to see if Clint can find anything out about how they came to be in SHIELD's possession."
"Yes, consider that top priority." Doug's anxious drumming probably indicated he already was considering it first in his to do list. Marie-Ange was not taking any chances. "Please also ask one of our resident psis to do an integrity check. One who would tell you if you seemed at all compromised." Which was in truth, probably any of them but again, no chances. "If Haller was awake, he would be the best choice. He was there for the astral spur universe."
"Emma probably has most familiarity with my brain, and the first encounter we had with Horsemen imagery, but Jean was the one who checked me out after...acquiring the nanites. I'll see who's available first," Doug promised. He didn't -feel- compromised, but that was hardly conclusive if there was some kind of 'sleeper' issue at play. "Given how integrated the friendos are in my system, you should probably consider that in any contingency planning." Talking to one of his closest friends about potentially having to take him out was never easy, but in their line of work definitely necessary.
Marie-Ange got up and went to the kitchen, coming right back with a bottle of rum, and poured a shot into each coffee mug. "Which is to say, we cannot just cut off the arm, yes?" Unnecessary question on the surface but sometimes one had to speak the truth aloud. "I will revise." And not tell him the details, that part would not - could not be spoken aloud. "I have some reassurance, everything I read for you that does come up making sense suggests you are you, and quite stable. But, since the nanites, reading for you is much harder. You should appreciate the irony, I have to establish a pattern and do statistics to determine any sort of future for you. The price I pay now is endless hours learning functional math."
Doug was struck with the mental image of Marie-Ange creating pivot tables in Microsoft Excel and couldn't quite keep the snort of laughter from escaping. "To be fair, I also seem to have to be branching out into something more akin to your manipulating images. Or at least in the same realm as Kevin's shapeshifting." He shrugged. "Given the friendos' love of aesthetic, sometimes it requires that very particular eye for image detail that you have." The nice thing about having been so close for so long was that he already had a good idea of the things needed as he adapted to the new normal.
"He mentioned he counseled you on matching your skin tone." Marie-Ange drank down her coffee, and the shot of rum. "Can I ask a serious question?" at Doug's node, she continued. "What if we used, ah, not quite magnets but perhaps I should ask that too, are your nanites magnetic? An electro magnetic pulse, would it destroy them? Cause damage? When I sent you into that room, I thought it was to be an ambassador, or a translator, and while I rather like you being healthy, I never expected you to establish yourself as a host for a colony."
"I mean, things don't always turn out the way we expect, even with precog on our side," Doug observed. "And I think an EMP is more likely to be effective, certainly in comparison to just trying to physically excise things. What my systems will do afterward is anyone's guess, though." Would the blood curse drop all its effects on him at once?
"I think for now too, limit travel. Make whatever excuses you have to." Her expression went thoughtful and distant for a moment. "What happens to the nanites who wear out? Does your system recycle them, do you shed nanites?" She tapped her fingers on the rim of her coffee mug. "I am going to keep secrets from you. Apologies, but not. Handwritten notes and the like, I cannot have my favourite hacker searching my email for my plans, no?" She reached out - carefully - and poked Doug's nose. "You have a higher statistical probability of not minding the subway gap than turning against us unwittingly. I did confidence intervals. I do not entirely understand them, but I did them. I know statistics now."
Doug snorted. "Angie, I think you keep secrets from -yourself- sometimes." It was the nature of their jobs - if he got offended at people keeping secrets he'd be having fights in the office every single day. It was a matter of trusting each other to know which secrets to keep and which ones were likely to cause bigger problems. "So, confidence intervals, huh?" He couldn't help but giggle at the mental image of Marie-Ange staring at the formula builder in Microsoft Excel and making frustrated noises.
"I actually have no idea what those are. I texted Felicia asking for math words.' Marie-Ange said. "I did the spreadsheets, I do know what a standard deviation is, but there is a reason I let you and others do numbers and not me." She picked up her mug and finished the coffee. "I trust you, Doug. I know who you are. You could have stolen yourself a fortune from billionaires who would never notice instead of being here."
"That makes one of us, I suppose?" Not that Doug didn't trust himself exactly, but he was too aware of the potential unknowns at play to be sure. "Plus, I don't have to steal from billionaires." He grinned. "It's not stealing when I have access to her AmEx Black card."
"You could be jet setting with money stolen from Elon Musk."
"Valid. Or John Sublime. Though he might not be anymore given how hard we tanked his stock price..."
It was the morning after the clash in Alabama that had resulted in Darcy's injuries and the report of Malice leading the Marauders in an attempt to deal with the Horsemen that Clan Akkaba was sending out. Doug came to Marie-Ange's room uncharacteristically early in the day, seeking her out after the discussion they had the previous day. "Hey," he said wearily as he entered to see her already sitting at the small table adjacent to the kitchenette, one mug in front of her and one at the empty chair that he lowered himself into.
"There are toaster pastries in the... toaster.' Marie-Ange pointed with her coffee mug. "Have you slept, or have you been indentured to the aftermath of your girlfriend and your mutual ex girlfriend's encounters?" She had cards on the table, as usual, but this deck was oil slick colors, pink and cyan and neon blue, marked with a shimmer of silver. "The metaphor is obvious but we need to be cards on the table about the connections you made."
"Might've dozed for a few minutes here and there, but that's about it," Doug admitted as he stood, grabbed the pastries, and then sat again. The coffee was exactly the way he took it, and still warm. "Malice hit her with some lingering nausea crap on top of the clawing and biting." Referring to Laurie by her seemingly preferred moniker helped to keep him on an even keel. He chuckled dryly. "You know, I never had quite the appreciation for Amanda's whole 'personal isn't always the same as important' bit as I do now that a bit of personal history has popped up leading a strike team against us."
"Ah, good, I can skip some of my frustrated speech about a sense of urgency when asked to speak with me as soon as possible." Marie-Ange said. "I am benching you for anything Akkaba related, and I want you to speak to Molly or Clinton about the nanites in Alaska. Too much of this is alarming me, and readings for you have been erratic since you ... " She trailed off, looking off into the distance for a moment. "Adopted your collective? What is the phrase we are using now?"
Doug nodded along as Marie-Ange layed her reasoning out. "I usually go with 'unionized'. Something something collective bargaining." He took a bite of toaster pastry and then washed it down with some coffee. "Comm support or otherwise away from the action," he said steadily. There was a time when he would have protested and wanted to be at the forefront no matter what. "Besides, given Clan Akkaba's tendencies toward mysticism, having a major allergic reaction isn't that far behind being unwittingly drawn into something in terms of nonproductive outcomes." He nodded toward where he had placed his phone on the table. "And I'll get with Clinto as quickly as I can to see what light he can shed on things."
"Good. I had forgotten that the alternate you in Essex's manufactured universe was a Horseman, but the details trouble me." She took a very long drink from her mug, and set it down. "That Doug also could regenerate. Once you reminded me, I spoke with Angelo about what he remembered. I cannot imagine how Essex would have future sight, or an awareness that you would adopt a techno-organic colony or if it was a very lucky guess. Either way, I want you to spent your time researching the nanites and their progenitor. Who is this Fixer person, what is his background before he created them?"
Doug's expression went a little vacant, then very puzzled. "Do what now?" he asked, but before Marie-Ange could respond, he shook his head. "That was to the friendos. Apparently 'administrator Fixer' did not create them. He just found them and started using them for his own purposes." He drummed the fingers of his left hand on the table, considering the implications. "Now I definitely need to see if Clint can find anything out about how they came to be in SHIELD's possession."
"Yes, consider that top priority." Doug's anxious drumming probably indicated he already was considering it first in his to do list. Marie-Ange was not taking any chances. "Please also ask one of our resident psis to do an integrity check. One who would tell you if you seemed at all compromised." Which was in truth, probably any of them but again, no chances. "If Haller was awake, he would be the best choice. He was there for the astral spur universe."
"Emma probably has most familiarity with my brain, and the first encounter we had with Horsemen imagery, but Jean was the one who checked me out after...acquiring the nanites. I'll see who's available first," Doug promised. He didn't -feel- compromised, but that was hardly conclusive if there was some kind of 'sleeper' issue at play. "Given how integrated the friendos are in my system, you should probably consider that in any contingency planning." Talking to one of his closest friends about potentially having to take him out was never easy, but in their line of work definitely necessary.
Marie-Ange got up and went to the kitchen, coming right back with a bottle of rum, and poured a shot into each coffee mug. "Which is to say, we cannot just cut off the arm, yes?" Unnecessary question on the surface but sometimes one had to speak the truth aloud. "I will revise." And not tell him the details, that part would not - could not be spoken aloud. "I have some reassurance, everything I read for you that does come up making sense suggests you are you, and quite stable. But, since the nanites, reading for you is much harder. You should appreciate the irony, I have to establish a pattern and do statistics to determine any sort of future for you. The price I pay now is endless hours learning functional math."
Doug was struck with the mental image of Marie-Ange creating pivot tables in Microsoft Excel and couldn't quite keep the snort of laughter from escaping. "To be fair, I also seem to have to be branching out into something more akin to your manipulating images. Or at least in the same realm as Kevin's shapeshifting." He shrugged. "Given the friendos' love of aesthetic, sometimes it requires that very particular eye for image detail that you have." The nice thing about having been so close for so long was that he already had a good idea of the things needed as he adapted to the new normal.
"He mentioned he counseled you on matching your skin tone." Marie-Ange drank down her coffee, and the shot of rum. "Can I ask a serious question?" at Doug's node, she continued. "What if we used, ah, not quite magnets but perhaps I should ask that too, are your nanites magnetic? An electro magnetic pulse, would it destroy them? Cause damage? When I sent you into that room, I thought it was to be an ambassador, or a translator, and while I rather like you being healthy, I never expected you to establish yourself as a host for a colony."
"I mean, things don't always turn out the way we expect, even with precog on our side," Doug observed. "And I think an EMP is more likely to be effective, certainly in comparison to just trying to physically excise things. What my systems will do afterward is anyone's guess, though." Would the blood curse drop all its effects on him at once?
"I think for now too, limit travel. Make whatever excuses you have to." Her expression went thoughtful and distant for a moment. "What happens to the nanites who wear out? Does your system recycle them, do you shed nanites?" She tapped her fingers on the rim of her coffee mug. "I am going to keep secrets from you. Apologies, but not. Handwritten notes and the like, I cannot have my favourite hacker searching my email for my plans, no?" She reached out - carefully - and poked Doug's nose. "You have a higher statistical probability of not minding the subway gap than turning against us unwittingly. I did confidence intervals. I do not entirely understand them, but I did them. I know statistics now."
Doug snorted. "Angie, I think you keep secrets from -yourself- sometimes." It was the nature of their jobs - if he got offended at people keeping secrets he'd be having fights in the office every single day. It was a matter of trusting each other to know which secrets to keep and which ones were likely to cause bigger problems. "So, confidence intervals, huh?" He couldn't help but giggle at the mental image of Marie-Ange staring at the formula builder in Microsoft Excel and making frustrated noises.
"I actually have no idea what those are. I texted Felicia asking for math words.' Marie-Ange said. "I did the spreadsheets, I do know what a standard deviation is, but there is a reason I let you and others do numbers and not me." She picked up her mug and finished the coffee. "I trust you, Doug. I know who you are. You could have stolen yourself a fortune from billionaires who would never notice instead of being here."
"That makes one of us, I suppose?" Not that Doug didn't trust himself exactly, but he was too aware of the potential unknowns at play to be sure. "Plus, I don't have to steal from billionaires." He grinned. "It's not stealing when I have access to her AmEx Black card."
"You could be jet setting with money stolen from Elon Musk."
"Valid. Or John Sublime. Though he might not be anymore given how hard we tanked his stock price..."
