Participants:
| Scene Title | Do |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Wade says he's ready to learn to be a better person. Hana gives him some cold comfort, and some blunt truth, and basically tells him to prove it. |
| Date | June 9, 2009 |
Virtuality
Wade spends several moments alone with his thoughts, as he sits down in front of his computer. Tiny icon in the task bar indicating that he's online blinks at him. He has never felt so helpless in all of his life. Of course, he recalls that not to be the case. There was one time. When he watched his parents die in an incident that has not yet occured, yet he was there all the same. It was the same day that Taylor Reed truly died. Innocence taken away at that precise moment — and in his place, a criminal was left. But no more.
He places his hand on the keyboard and without typing a single key he reaches out.
I'm ready now.
Elsewhere in the borough, Hana has a safehouse nearly all to herself; a perogative she occasionally takes advantage of. She is in the process of peeling rain-soaked clothes loose of her skin when the wireless message reaches her; pauses, shirt drawn up to the level of her chin, to look in the direction of the sender — meaningless gesture though her glance may be. Hana listens to the words. Weighs them, like a handful of stones that may or may not be proven to have value.
The first step remains the same.
The same.
There are those he can go to in order to right particular wrongs. Then again, how small of a wrong does he have to right? It's not like he can go back and put all the money back he shifted. Even if he wanted to — and he doesn't — most of the money is most certainly spent. There is one he can go to, Mallory Allistair. Whatever abuse she might heap upon him, he would certainly deserve. But there is one..
There is one wrong I cannot undo. Far beyond my capability.
The destruction of the real Wade Quinn.
She sheds the wet clothes, pads over to the closet and pulls out a towel to wick the residual dampness from her skin. At the reply from 'Robin Hood', Hana's lips press into a thin, grim smile. He appears to be taking this seriously. She's not completely certain whether she likes this circumstance or not.
Do you regret it?
Hood doesn't fully commit himself to the net any longer. He has learned to reach out without actually entering the system. He has no clue what all he is capable of. That being said, he still focuses everything to his connection to the net. In this circumstance, he may bite his lip, he doesn't have the luxury of doing what would come natural to him. The question, however, rings out at him as he considers his answer. Does he regret it? He knows what the answer should be. But does he really? Looking at it from a purely selfish standpoint the answer would be a resounding 'no'. However, as he starts to think of Kimberlynn — and how she would react to him if she found out what he had done to the real Wade Quinn — then the answer would undoubtably be:
Yes.
As the woman on the other end of the exchange redresses, dry clothes being infinitely preferable to wet, she considers the one-word reply. As simple as a word can be, it offers her no true insight into the youth behind it. Does he truly regret, or is he saying only what he thinks she wants to hear?
Then perhaps Monk is right, K.Apila allows. Just as Wade's communication lacked any tone, any emotional overlay, so is the plain text of her response devoid of grudging admission.
Another allowance, a bone offered in continued speech. Not peace, but perhaps a truce, if he really does set on the path Monk has demarcated — though Wade may not know the difference, anyway. Most of the world is like her. They are companions, friends, lovers; they are loved in their turn. No one lives in a vacuum — and ultimately, Robin Hood, all that you do does come back to you.
To regret an action is not precisely the same as saying you would take it all back, if it could be undone; but to acknowledge what is lost for your actions, to grieve that loss, is to move down the path of wisdom.
The response is almost immediate. Wade cannot tell if this entity can tell if he's telling the truth or if he's making things up. Best to tell as much of the truth as he possibly can.
There are things I've done that I would no doubt be conflicted about — if we're talking about regret. Things that I know that will eventually become regret. Things that I am certain that I will have to pay for at some point in time. Things that I will wish that I could take back. There are things that have not even occured yet, that I wish I could undo.
She listens to the reply, to the phrasing; a great deal of will and would, but perhaps that's the more honest answer. Hana is quiet for a short time, measuring what she wants to say against what she knows Monk would rather she not say; he matters enough that the woman cares to be deliberate with her words.
Nothing of living with that will be easy, K.Apila says, echoing a statement from their 'first' conversation. If there is any comfort in her words, it's cold. But you will find you are never the only one on that road.
Another momentary pause, before Hana's restraint cracks just a little; just enough for a last sentence to be transmitted, the phrasing alone conveying something of her frustration. Not the way her fingers curl into her palms, nor the set of her jaw — but something, at least. And I don't include certain insufferable know-it-alls in that.
That tone. Has he already offended someone?
Did I say something wrong? I was told to come when I was ready. Ready to admit to my mistakes and make amends. I'm ready to do that. Have I been insufferable to you?
If there is any emotional inflection, and there probably isn't — it would be confusion. Has be run across this one before somewhere?
I'm not looking for the easy road. The easy road is what I've been on for all this time. There's — there's something I must do that will make a difference. A difference in events to come. I am not — capable.
The cocky teen — perhaps — is maturing. Perhaps due to his adult counterpart — but he realizes his limitations and is willing to address them. He has to address them.
No, I didn't mean you.
There's a moment's pause on Hana's part, possibly hesitation. Surprise. Maybe he has grown. But enough? Probably not.
You are… I will be honest: I don't like you. It doesn't get any blunter than that, except maybe if Hana included the fact that being on the receiving end of her dislike is more hazardous than one might expect. Because I was asked to, I am giving you a chance.
You know where to start. You know how to find me. If you are ready, then do not simply say; do.
Pulling back from the net, Wade blinks his eyes. He sits momentarily — he already knows this is doing to be a difficult task. She's not going to like him contacting her again. But K.Apila's word rings out to him again.
Do.
Therefore. He does.
Reaching out again to the next he tries to make contact with someone else.
I would like to talk.