maskormenace | 001

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[Ward's throat still feels like shit and a half, but he's managed to process the following. He's no longer in jail (that's a plus), he's got super powers (he's unsure if that's a plus or minus) but he arrived and avoided the network for a few days out of fear of breaking the damn thing. He's decided long since then that he can't let Skye intimidate him.

She's here. And she's been here for awhile. She has home team advantage.

The only problem is they have a record of him. This whole registering thing was crap - what was the point of being given a second chance if he really couldn't leave Grant Ward behind? For the first time he wants to.

So time to test the waters. He's been to the ceremony, he's been sworn in, he's had a dramatic reunion with the woman he'd thought he cared about.]

New arrival here. Roomba salesman and repairman. Anybody else get a completely shit job? I know nothing about Roomba's. Assuming Roombas here are the vaccuum robots. Y/N?

Also feel like shooting myself in the foot here, but is there some kind of a "so now you have super abilities" support group? Any help or advice appreciated.

[Reading over it two or three times he nods, satisfied that it's not incriminating, that it's blaise enough that even if people decide to ask him questions he can think up enough to talk about without screwing up.

He'd been in worse situations.

His roommates might have noticed that his doorknob on the outside was significantly bent and someone has been closing doors in their apartment very, very quietly.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Somewhere deep within him Wards hates himself. And somewhere in hell John Garrett laughs because the first thing that Ward sees when he sees the kid is opportunity.

And Ward, what little remains of Grant Douglas Ward - and there's still some there buried beneath the man rubbing his throat with a dark gaze, hates himself then and there.

It's like looking into the past]

...You need to be watched? [He oozes skeptical] I'd like a chance to use what I can do.

But not to police people. Not anymore. [he'll spread his hands]

Although for the record the majority of the people I ended up dealing with were pretty bad. And they were only recently...different.

I can watch my own back.

[ That's probably not what Ward meant, but Reggie will interpret it how he wants to.

That's not to say he isn't listening, though; it isn't opportunity Reggie sees, exactly, but an easy way out of thinking about anything serious. The best way to avoid having to reflect or feel guilty about anything is revel in being an asshole until he can fully buy into himself, he's learned. ]

You definitely did get the short end of the stick -- lousy job, lousy welcome party. If it was me, I'd figure out what I needed first. Then what I wanted.

...Good. I'm tired of babysitting people. Holding people's hands and making people feel good about themselves.

[His smile however is at least friendly.]

I know what I need. What's step two?

That makes two of us. Don't worry, I'm real mature for my age; last thing I need is a babysitter.

[ It's a match made in... somewhere terrible. Mean asshole teenagers make for easy accomplices in this sort of situation, the liars and scumbags make better company than the ones with hero complexes.

All right, Reggie might have some unchecked issues going on.

But he pauses, not having that far ahead -- he's more a schemer than a planner. ]

Uh -- do what you need to do to get it. Even if it takes you a while.

...That makes you a survivor. [he smiles] That's useful. I mean that's real useful.

I was a lot like that when I was a kid.

True. [He nods] Kinda hard to do that when people are calling me out like this.

[ Reggie smirks at that, but it's one lacking humor, a bit uneasy; a survivor, yes. That's the perfect word for it.

The word "useful" makes him question -- briefly -- if he's making a big mistake right now, but Reggie waves that thought away. All he's made lately are mistakes, and it's not like he's in any position to redeem himself, anyway. No one's here to apologize to, he can't rewind time and save anyone. ]

Could be useful. Does that mean you want my help?

Yeah, no kidding -- whatever you did must have been some kind of next level dick move. Try maybe lying low 'til some of the heat is off, for starters.

It'll be fun.

[And Ward feels and practically hears a ringing in his ears when he says it.] I need to make some friends.

But you're right. I think laying low will be the best idea. Get the lay of the land.

[Practice control.]

With a friend like me-- [ Who needs enemies!! ] Critics learn to shut up, and fast.

[ Granted, he's only seventeen, so no mastermind, but that's still old enough to know a few things about PR spinning (it helps that his dad is a news editor). Especially when you act too unflappable for prolonged confrontation to seem worth it.

He adds, just to feel more confident: ]

Assuming it's worth my while.

[Ward was 17 when Garrett took him under his wing, broke him out of jail, made him what he was.

Ward laughs aloud, driven and angry and hurt all at once.]

...What would you like?

[ He considers that question, a little surprised it's being taken seriously. But it's so nice to be taken seriously. ]

If you get a better job, I want a piece of that action. Mine's okay and all, but I don't know if "okay" will cut it for long in a place like this.

[ Not that he's scared or anything. Certainly not. Go big or go home, that's all. ]

[What's scary to ward is how everything from this kid's manner to his behavior reminds him of him.

So he responds to this after his talk with doctor Chilton at the office.]

...It might require training on your part if you think you can cut it.

[Hey Reggie. Wanna learn some awesome fighting moves from an actual super spy?]

but I have something lined up.

[ Scary indeed; Reggie isn't necessarily gunning to turn out like Ward, but the similarities in the moment are strangely comforting. Sticking to the familiar seems like a good idea right now, it helps avoid thinking about everything else.

And, uh, hell yes. ]

Of course I can cut it. I have a whole athletic resume to back that up, too. [ Which he almost rattles off right then and there, but miraculously resists the urge to brag. He's not really feeling it right now, or lately. ] What sort of something?

Security work. If you can prove to me that you can cut it.

It might require you to get a little more physical. Hurting others in a... more serious manner.

[Chilton wouldn't maybe object if he ended up needing a staff right? some extra help? Either way, having an ally like this...

For the first time he gets why Garrett chose him.

And his chest aches.]

Either way it's training I'd be willing to offer. Any experience with self defense? Hand to hand combat?

Security--? [ It's not quite his bag, but he won't say that. Reggie knows better than to shoot opportunities and connections in the foot recklessly. ] Who got you that gig?

Look, I'm no wimp, I can do it. [ Probably. Maybe. ] ... Yeah, some. Does football count as experience?

...It's good work. [He nods] I know, I'd prefer something different too, but they seem reluctant to hire people like you and me for anything that actually ...makes sense.

[At that he smiles. And it's probably the most genuine smile] I used to play linebacker believe it or not. For my school.

Okay, okay. I'll give it a shot. [ At least temporarily, though he's hesitant if only because it's not clear what kind of "security" work is being discussed. Reggie's not quite a sadist, but it's true he could use whatever tips he can get when it comes to fighting; the black eye's proof of that.] When you say hurting people, how bad are we talking?

[ But, on the slightly more neutral side of this conversation: ]

Running back.

[What keeps him going is the realization that John Garrett would be proud of him. Desperately proud of him.]

Nothing worse then leaving a few guys laid out while you go pave the way for a touch down.

Besides I think the way this place seems to be self defense classes should also be readily available.

what's your name kid?

[ Good comparison. He nods his head, considering that and finding it acceptable for now. ]

No kidding. Like any of us can trust a bunch of overpowered jocks to use it all responsibly -- I can just imagine all the poor suckers too weak to even know how to clench a fist. [ Not that he really feels for them; he's got his own problems. ] It's Reggie. Reggie Mantle.

...This'll be more then brawling. It's about control, discipline. That's what the rest of these people don't understand. Gives you focus, and helps you achieve what you really want.

[He nods] Grant Ward.

You can call me Ward.

They have you going to school here?

I can dig it. Anything that helps me achieve that's worth knowing.

[ "Anything" may be a bit extreme, but overall he means that. There's security in feeling like he has some control over his life, even if he's nowhere near home. That's a good thing. ]

Sure thing, Ward. I don't care what you call me s'long as it's not "kid." [ After a pause, he nods. ] Heropa High.

We'll make due.

[Heropa High] ...Is high school still shit?

It'll be shit until the end of time -- but it's not all bad. I know how to make it livable. And popularity helps.

[ He tends to imagine he's more popular than he really is, but y'know. Being good at sports does help. ]

Smarter then me. I had other priorities however. [Not that he'll be honest about it. Still nice clean cut high school kid?

Here's hoping he had something, somethings in his past, something to exploit even as Ward rubs a hand over his eyes. Just security]

[ Plenty there to exploit indeed, although Reggie is so far doing his best to hide that fact. He doesn't even want to let himself acknowledge his own role in the zombie outbreak that's going on back home in Riverdale. ]

Yeah, I bet. Military school sounds like a real drag.

[He shrugs]

School's a drag.

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