12645/Warren Worthington, GC

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Warren Worthington, GC
Date of Scene: 13 January 2021
Location: Guidance Counselor's Office - Xavier's School
Synopsis: Warren and Jeremy have a session in Warren's office at Xavier's
Cast of Characters: Archangel, SpyderByte




Archangel has posed:
Warren, having started to spend much more time at Xavier's in role as the school's guidance councilor, has to pull double duty now with his other public job being the CEO of Worthington Industries. Because of that, the office that Kitty used in her tenure as the GC has been in a state of renovation since Warren as taken over. The desk is more cluttered with paperwork than it ever has been before, there are now multiple computer monitors on the desk instead of just the one, and a TV on the opposing wall from the desk is constantly on one of the cable business channels, the stock ticker rolling across the bottom of the page in a continuous loop.

Warren himself sits at one of the things that really hasn't changed, the comfortable chair behind the still original desk. His feet are up on the desk as he talks to himself, or more accurately to the person on the other side of the Bluetooth headset he wears, "No, no. I want to hold onto that stock until the last possible moment, and then sell it all. I have faith it is still going to go up a couple more points. Yeah, I know that the trend is slowing, but I have a feeling about it. Just...3 more points. If I am wrong and it starts dropping before then, you have my permission to sell it, but only after it looses a full point. I don't want a minor dip in the trend to scare us away. Right. Call me when it is done."

SpyderByte has posed:
Having had an appointment scheduled with the counselor today, Jermey shows up on time. He is dressed as usual in all black in the form of chained pants, long sleeved black shirt and his trench coat. His hair is a long mess of black dye with a hint of red tips that he applied last night. Reaching out, he knocks on the door, then nudges it open to trudge his way inside. He takes a look at the clutter about the desk, then sinks down into a chair while Warren is on his call.

His eyes look tired, filled with dark rings and bloodshot from most likely a lack of sleep. He slumps down into the chair as he normally does, like a pile of lanky teen and bones. He's not the bag of twigs he was when he showed up here, but he is still skinny and noodle armed. He reaches up to rub at his eyes a bit briefly, then tilts his head slightly towards the conversation on the phone.

Archangel has posed:
Glancing at his watch and then waving Jeremy into the room and motioning to a seat Warren finishes up his call, "Listen, I have another appointment. Just make sure it gets done. Right. Bye."

Reaching up to tap the headset and disconnect the call, the winged mutant removes the headset and tosses it onto the desk, lowering his feet to the floor and straightening up a bit to be more 'professional' in appearance. Smiling that charming smile of his he gives the teen a once over before opening up a notepad on his desk and setting a pen down on top of it.

"Morning, Jer. Were you up late calling the Avengers again when nobody was looking?" the Angel jokes, humor in his voice. "Sounds like something I would have done when I was your age had I the number...or did Jean have you working?"

SpyderByte has posed:
Reaching into his pocket, Jeremy takes out his phone and places it on the desk, then swivels it towards Warren with the speakers facing him. He gives a slow blink of his eyes, then glances at the device as it begins to speak once he connects to it.

<< I do not sleep very good at night in general. I was up working. I'm not sure if you would be interested. Most of the time people look confused, or horrified when I explain to them exactly what it is I am doing and why. >>

There's a shuffle of his posture some as he picks at his fingernails, staring down at his hands as usual. He always looks nervous. Like a trapped mouse with a cat lurking near by.

Archangel has posed:
"Well I would make for a crappy guidance councilor if I didn't listen, regardless of if I get confused by it wouldn't I," answers Warren with a smile as he writes something down on the notepad in front of him and then folds his hands and places them into his lap. "Besides, I 'grew up' around here with Hank...Dr. McCoy. I think I have masking my confusion down to an artform by now. What were you working on? Was it related to the Cure, or was it a personal project?"

SpyderByte has posed:
There's a long moment of thought as Jeremy picks at his fingers a bit, then glances off to the side. He cracks his jaw with a slight shift of it, as if thinking really hard. Then, he glances back to the phone again as his voice filters through the speakers.

<< It was a personal project. I am currently tracking the movements of The Friends of Humanity in multiple states. While it may not make national news, or barely local news of their respective cities, there has been numerous videos of mutants being dismembered stored on the dark web and being traded amongst what I consider to be terrorist groups. They are posting names and addresses of mutants and setting up times to attack them with maximum casualties. I have been working with a number of other technopaths to warn prospective targets ahead of time, as well as release these videos to law enforcement, and to make them public amongst white hats so we can spread information. >>

The fingers of the young Goth are worn and in need of grooming. He picks at them constantly. He has terrible cuticles.

<< Then I spent a good deal of time continuing to track down a Russian hit squad that has been sent by their own government to torch homes in rural villages in an attempt to pin the blame on a political opponent. >>

He blows some hair away from his face, slouching a bit more in the seat.

Archangel has posed:
As the speaker on the phone crackles to life and the words emitted from it are absorbed Warren's face goes from jovial to sour, darkening more as each word is broadcast from the tiny phone speaker. The blonde's eyes narrow as the word 'dismembered' triggers memories best left in the recesses of Warren's mind of his own natural wings being butchered and then removed by his former best friend. It's even possible his skin might turn slight tint of blue as his darker base instincts and emotions start to emerge.

Closing his eyes for a moment Warren attempts to compose himself, a few deep breaths taken in order to do so, before the change and the feeling fade...but don't totally vanish. "Have you told Jean? Scott? Anyone about these cells of the FOH? If they are murdering mutants they need to be stopped. Sending them to the authorities is a step in the right direction, but they won't move fast enough to save anyone."

Warren scribbles a few more words onto the notepad in front of him, underlining a couple of them with some harsh movements as if taking the feelings out on the paper will make things better. "What about the Russians interest you, specifically? Something must have drawn your attention to them."

SpyderByte has posed:
<< Sometimes I give Miss Grey and Mister Summers information. It depends on the variables. I weigh every decision based upon cause and effect. Do we send a team of X-Men to Utah to break into a house of humans that go to extreme lengths to hide their affiliations and risk more negative publicity against mutants? It would only make them martyrs and further empower their mission. Evil mutants, attacking innocent humans. News at eleven. The information I find is buried so deep in the dark web and it exists within secure channels of how they pass information. I have learned to inflirtrate them without drawing attention to myself by posing as one of them. There are nights I hate myself when I log off. I try and find local support in those areas through my various avenues of networks and pass the information down to them. There are heroes in every city, even if they are not as prominent as the Avengers. >>

Jeremy rubs the bridge of his nose once he slips his thin glasses off, knuckling his eyes again. << Local information I do pass on to my fellow team members in X-Force. Logan especially. Miss Braddock. >>

In regards to the Russians, the young Gothic raises his shoulders upwards in a shrug.

<< Someone passed information to me and I went down the rabbit holes until I found something that was interesting, then I just stuck with it. Seeing bodies burned in their homes at first was upsetting. I suppose wanting to find justice for innocent families who are mostly farmers and laborers was appealing. I don't like bullies. I was beat up and hurt my entire life. I know what it's like to wear scars on my body. >>

Archangel has posed:
"It's not healthy, Jeremy," Warren says after a moment of silence taken again to compose himself and think about his words. "You can't do this night after night after night, or you are going to slowly drive yourself mad. The intention is as noble as anything. Trust me, there is a part of me that wants nothing more to take your information, fly out of here, and give those bastards as good as they give. Logan isn't the only one with a temper." A couple of the feathers on Warren's wings ruffle with an odd noise that is a mixture of both organic and the sound of metal scraping together as some of the feathers along the edge take on a bit of a more metallic shine before reverting back to their white, feathery appearance.

Warren averts his eyes from Jeremy for a minute, taking a look to the window as he continues to speak, "Something I learned a long time ago is you can't save everyone. As much as that hurts, it's also the truth, and trying to just is going to lead to more and more disappointment. You need to tone it down. I'm not saying stop all together, because I couldn't ask that of you...but maybe not all night, every night. You are not going to help anyone if you burn yourself out."

SpyderByte has posed:
<< I understand. I receive the same feedback quite consistently from the staff and from my peers. >>

Jeremy slides the glasses back up his nose, then tucks them with a push of a single finger as he peers up at the winged X-Man from behind his black bangs.

<< But someone has to do this, because no one else will. The moment you blink, they are ahead of you again. My powers allow me to multi-task on a level that exceeds normal human mental capacity. I shuffle through terabytes of data within seconds so that I can archive it and store it. I know where to go where others do not, because they do not understand the way data is hidden or stored. If anything, even if I can't save everyone, I can at least have everything documented so that someone can pick up where I left off. >>

There's another picking at his fingers, followed by brushing his thumb over one that begins to bleed from getting a bit too deep with a fingernail.

<< So much goes on in the world that you don't know about. Right under your nose. The government has plans to remove us from the planet if we get too far out of line. Terrorist groups are even being financed by some departments. Homeless children are being sold on boats to science labs in International territories to experiment on them. >>

There is a slow tilt of his head upwards as he peeks at the X-Men, then clears his throat.

<< But I can try and take a night off once a week and spend it with my friends. I am getting better at socializing. I have to as a New Mutant member. It's part of the project's requirements. >>

Archangel has posed:
Warren leans back into his chair, wings folding in behind him to act as a secondary backrest. "Twice a week. I want you to try and take two nights off a week. You can start with one, but by the end of the month I want a true effort to make it twice, for at least a few hours. You need to spend more time with your friends. I would like you to make a future goal to make it three nights, then four, until you can spend a couple of hours a day being a 'normal' young man. I don't want you to ever just stop doing what you are doing, because I agree there are only a few that can do what you do, and even fewer who take up that effort, but you need balance. Something I have to struggle with myself."

Warren reaches out and scribbles more notes onto the notepad in front of him, "Tell me, when you do take a night off, what is it you like to do? What hobbies do you have that don't involve anything about what we have already talked about? Do you have any other hobbies? Video games? Music?"

SpyderByte has posed:
<< Um .. >>

There is an uncomfortable look upon Jeremy's face at the question of what is it that he does when he's not working. He slowly blinks his eyes, then glances down at his hands again.

<< I don't really have hobbies. I listen to music, I suppose. Retrowave music. When I work. It helps keep me focused. >>

He rocks back in the chair a bit, slumping a bit more.

<< I do homework. I hang out with Shannon. She is trying to get me to work out more. Those are recent events. Before I became a mutant I used to like video games. Maybe normal stuff. It feels like a long time ago. I was not popular in school. I was beat up a lot. So, I suppose social survival was a hobby. Learning new ways to hide from Sean McDonald. >>

Archangel has posed:
"Why not pick up video games again? Maybe show Shannon how to play? I am sure she could use a good friend right now with everything that has happened. I know it seems like she is taking it all in stride, but speaking from experience deep down it has to be tearing her apart if she is anything like I was," says Warren as he jots down something else onto the pad of paper. "While I am confident that Hank will find some way to reverse the effects of the drug, until then the loss of her powers has to be taking a toll even if she isn't showing it."

Warren casts his glance up to Jeremy, "Can you do that for her? For me? Make an effort to spend some time with her while she goes through this?"

SpyderByte has posed:
<< Of course. She is my best friend. We talked after what happened to her. She is the one person I spend the most time with here at the school. I don't play video games anymore because I beat them so quickly due to how my powers work. I can't actively turn my powers off. So when I turn a game on and it's networked, it just falls into place. So, they quit being fun for me. Shannon also isn't the type of girl that likes video games. She likes creative hobbies such as at, quiltwork and making music. >>

Jeremy straightens up a bit more.

<< Perhaps I can focus on her hobbies instead. She likes to teach. It could get her mind off her own current situation. >>

Archangel has posed:
Warren shrugs a shoulder, lifting one of his wings up higher than the other for a moment. "How about something board games then? Or maybe even something that combines the two like one of those roleplaying games? Or find something to learn together? Play guitar, or some other instrument. I am sure if you two thought about it you could easily find something that the both of your would find entertaining."

SpyderByte has posed:
<< Okay. >>

Jeremy's voice chirps through the phone in an agreeable manner. For the most part, it has an even, digital tone of voice. No highs or lows.

<< I will work with her on a project together. I am sure we will find a way to have fun. >>

Archangel has posed:
"You know, if you start one of those roleplaying games, you could get some of the other kids involved as well. Hell, maybe I'll even try it out once or twice." Warren says with a grin.

He jots a few more notes down onto his pad of paper, then flips it closed and sets the pen down on top of it. "It will be good for you to spend some time away from the other...stuff. Hopefully the more you spend with your friends, the less you will feel like you have to be online all the time. You deserve to have a life of your own, Jer."

SpyderByte has posed:
Pressing his lips together, Jeremy shrugs his shoulders upwards.

<< Maybe. But online I feel safe. It's the one place that I can go to and escape from everything. Coming to Xavier's is helping though. >>

As he glances down at his phone again, he reaches out to give it a squeeze, drawing it into his lap. He twirls it around in his hands a few times, then quietly rasps out a clear of his throat.

<< I probably should not have eavesdropped on your call before I walked in the door, but I can't help myself sometimes. You see, the way my powers work is that I see the signals in the air. >>

He gives a motion with his fingers upwards.

<<There are thousands of signals currently around me, some brighter than others. Some dimmer. You had a bright signal, so, I connected to it and listened in. Your financial advisor, Mister Hagsworth has been embezzling microtransactions from your company under a shell called Dynamic Express LLC. It's registered in his sister's name with a cryptocurrency account linked to him. It's offshore in Ireland. >>

He leans back into his chair a bit, settling his rapidly flickering eyes into the others.

<< I got bored. >>

Archangel has posed:
Opening his mouth and starting to smile as Jer apologizes for listening in, Warren's demeanor shifts as he continue to talk, the smile turning into a frown.

"Really?" questions Warren, but more rhetorical than genuine, "Do you happen to know how much he has taken?" Flipping open the notebook, Warren turns to another page and starts to jot down a few things, "Maybe I should hire you to sit in on all my calls. Well, maybe not all. There are some things you probably shouldn't hear."

SpyderByte has posed:
There's a 'ping' on Warren's phone as a message pops upon it. It has no phone number attached. It's a green bubble with white letters, followed by a flashing spider for a cursor. A screenshot is applied with the account in question. 315,456.13. Below it is rows of transactions, dates and times.

Jeremy is just sitting there, squeezing his phone as his eyes give another rapid flicker before he squeezes them shut and opens them once more.

<< No one misses a few pennies here and there. The most any transaction has been skimmed is a dollar and twelve cents. When you make your commisions based upon your sales, he created a 'fee' that goes largely unnoticed due to the fact your final invoices are so long due to mutliple line items. It's the fee called ITR. It looks innocent enough, tiny, not worth questioning on a two hundred thousand dollar invoice. >>

As he tilts his head, he gives a light sniff at the air.

<< Following the digital trail, it gets invoiced in America, pushed to Canada, then converted to cryptocurrency in Ireland before it's deposited in that account. It's a high skill technique. It has a unique digital identifier that is very hard to trace. >>

He gives a lick of his lips, followed by a soft giggle. << But, I am the Spider. No one can hide anything on my web. >>

Archangel has posed:
Glancing down at his phone Warren reads the numbers and scrolls through the transactions. It's true, that amount of money on each invoice is easily missed or even ignored. What is a dollar when you are looking at a final tally in the hundreds of thousands of them.

"You've put me into a pickle here, Jer," Warren admits as he scrolls through the phone before finally setting it aside, "I like Hagsworth...damnit if the man had just asked for a dollar or two raise per transaction I would have just handwaved it off and let him have it, but to go this route..I'm half tempted to have you remove the funds yourself and put them into an escrow account for the charity of your choice. Tell me, is it just sitting in this account, or has it been spent on anything?"

SpyderByte has posed:
<< It's just sitting there. There is only incoming transactions, no outgoing just yet. It accumulates only a small bit of interest. It's designed to not be flagged. I could easily reverse the charges. >>

Jeremy says as he gives another squeeze of his phone, then slides his fingers along the glass and gives it a hard flick. The monitor on Warren's desk flickers to life to reveal the account in question. The mouse starts to move on it's own as it highlights the rows, then exports them into an excel spreadsheet. He's just standing there, stiff as a board with unblinking eyes.

<< This is easier for you to see. >>

The windows flick by quickly as he manuevers the data, popping screenshot after the other into a folder on the desktop. A black window pops up, followed by thousands of line of code that rapidly funnels at a neckbreaking speed.

<< This is how I trace the data through the various nodes and plot points of the Internet. Essentially, you are looking at my brain in action. Over the years, I've bookmarked hyperloops that help me fast travel through the Internet to make this a lot easier and less stressful on my powers. I'm done now. I have imported all the information for you. Every transaction, the details of the accounts, who's name they are set up in, IP addresses, regular addresses, all archived in a highly encrypted file. >>

Warren's phone pings.

<< That's the password. It's long, my apologies. You can copy paste it in to unlock the file. It's for your protection. >>

Archangel has posed:
"Shit," Warren comments, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I was hoping there was some excuse, like he was only doing it to save his ailing sister or something. I didn't want to have to go down the route of pressing charges."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Warren looks at the screen as all the information flows by being placed into an easy and convenient folder for later use. "Am I the only person he is doing this to, or are there other clients as well? I don't want details, just a simple yes or a no."

Warren taps a few keys on the keyboard to copy the password and open the folder. A few more taps, and the printer behind him hums to life as it warms up to start printing out all the evidence. "Thank you, Jer. I probably would have never noticed...but now that you have pointed it out I think I have a house call to make."

SpyderByte has posed:
Giving a nod of his head, Jeremy pockets his phone again and gives the X-Man a thumbs up.

"Nnnno p-p-prrro-b-blem."

His normal voice is a raspy stutter, hard to choke out of his throat.

Archangel has posed:
Warren nods, reaching behind him to grab the printed papers and tap them on the desk to get them level. "Thanks, Jeremy. I don't need the answer now, just get it to me sometime soon. I need to build a case file on this, play it by the book. If there are others, they will want in."

Warren stands, moving around the desk towards the door to the office, reaching out to give the young man a pat on the shoulder should he allow it. "I'm going to head to the office to start all this. Why don't you go see if you can talk Shannon into one of those games."