08 / 11 / 11 - Adam, Jean-Paul
TO: Madrox
FROM: Jean-Paul
SUBJECT: Adam
Adam's courage was not the cause of your cowardice. When you threaten to out him, you only make out his sexuality to be a greater evil and a greater shame. And that is reprehensible.
Jean-Paul
=XF= Empty Building - Training Facilities - Chemeketa Military Base
Though three stories tall, this building still manages to look squat and workmanlike. The walls are reinforced concrete, made to withstand damage - as the faint scorch marks along several prove - and the stairwells are narrow and filled with echoes. Though at a glance the building is a throwback to prison-like construction trends of earlier eras, its monitoring system is state-of-the-art, intercoms and cameras feeding into the control center on the top floor, in addition to any further surveillance equipment set up for the day's specific drills.
The initial basic stealth skills assessment is something that Jean-Paul /generally/ prefers to handle on his own -- generally. Still, professionalism the rule, he schedules and shows up for Adam's assessment. Adam is told to dress in clothing that will blend across a wide range of possible settings, but he isn't told what that clothing might be. Then he is told to make his way to the control center on the top floor without being seen on his way to the empty building or on his way through it. Don't worry about the cameras. You'd be fucked if you worried about them. Jean-Paul busies himself in the building, appearing somewhat unpredictably throughout as Adam is supposed to make his way up.
Adam goes for business casual in khakis and a button-down. Apparently he is disguising himself as himself, but it at least looks fairly generic. His stealth work is -- not adept. What comfort he might have in his body from various athletic pursuits is squandered a significant amount by the nerves of inexperience. He is most definitely spotted. Multiple times. By the time he reaches the control room, it is quite clear that he needs quite a bit of work. He might hang his head if that wouldn't look so undignified.
Jean-Paul's postures holds a tension and his voice an edge that denies the smooth facade of professionalism he pastes down in place over his manner. "Do you own jeans?" he asks as he makes his way into the control to lob a heavy stack of paperwork onto a desk. It lands with a heavy smack. "I'm sure you can buy some, if not. You are uncomfortable and it shows. You stick out."
"Yes," Adam says, body and voice both held overtense as he turns quickly at Jean-Paul's entrance. "I just thought--" He stops any attempt to argue before it gets too far. "Well," he says after a moment. "Yes. I am inexperienced."
His head bowed over the paperwork, Jean-Paul says, "Your best teacher will be experience. More experience with more people. Get out of your element. Observe and mimic." Glancing up just briefly, he gives Adam a somewhat dubious glance and suggests, "Take a buddy. I'm putting you on a limited schedule and forwarding reading material. We'll step it up once you have worked on that. Any questions?" His tone is one of expectant dismissal. Say no and go, Adam.
Adam's jaw tenses in response to that dubious look, but he simply nods. "No," he answers. "I understand." He fails at the second half of that silent directive by standing there and failing to leave, however.
Looking back down at the papers, Jean-Paul says nothing more. He turns a page, picks up a pen, and signs something. He is busy, Adam.
"Phillip threatened to out me," Adam says a little suddenly as he watches Jean-Paul. "Here. To my family. Because I told you without -- warning him."
"What Jamie does is his business," says Jean-Paul. It would take a better student of his behavior and modes of expression to tease any more meaning out of his words, the tone in which he speaks them, or the way in which he holds himself as he talks.
Adam swallows. He is silent for a moment as he continues to study Jean-Paul. "I know you hate me," he says, hesitantly, almost reluctantly, "and I know you owe me absolutely nothing. But he would listen to you."
Pen stilling, Jean-Paul glances up with slowly dawning incredulity. He studies Adam for a long, silent moment.
Adam opens his mouth to speak, to plead, to justify, but, with an effort, holds back. His body is taut under Jean-Paul's examination.
Just slightly, Jean-Paul nods, and then he goes back to his work.
Surprise comes before relief, but both are distinct in that small release of tension. "Thank you," Adam whispers, and then he turns to go quickly.
Bye, Adam. Jean-Paul keeps his pen moving over pages that probably don't even have anything to sign, just to look like he is busy.
b. stealth b. stealth b. stealth
FROM: Jean-Paul
SUBJECT: Adam
Adam's courage was not the cause of your cowardice. When you threaten to out him, you only make out his sexuality to be a greater evil and a greater shame. And that is reprehensible.
Jean-Paul
=XF= Empty Building - Training Facilities - Chemeketa Military Base
Though three stories tall, this building still manages to look squat and workmanlike. The walls are reinforced concrete, made to withstand damage - as the faint scorch marks along several prove - and the stairwells are narrow and filled with echoes. Though at a glance the building is a throwback to prison-like construction trends of earlier eras, its monitoring system is state-of-the-art, intercoms and cameras feeding into the control center on the top floor, in addition to any further surveillance equipment set up for the day's specific drills.
The initial basic stealth skills assessment is something that Jean-Paul /generally/ prefers to handle on his own -- generally. Still, professionalism the rule, he schedules and shows up for Adam's assessment. Adam is told to dress in clothing that will blend across a wide range of possible settings, but he isn't told what that clothing might be. Then he is told to make his way to the control center on the top floor without being seen on his way to the empty building or on his way through it. Don't worry about the cameras. You'd be fucked if you worried about them. Jean-Paul busies himself in the building, appearing somewhat unpredictably throughout as Adam is supposed to make his way up.
Adam goes for business casual in khakis and a button-down. Apparently he is disguising himself as himself, but it at least looks fairly generic. His stealth work is -- not adept. What comfort he might have in his body from various athletic pursuits is squandered a significant amount by the nerves of inexperience. He is most definitely spotted. Multiple times. By the time he reaches the control room, it is quite clear that he needs quite a bit of work. He might hang his head if that wouldn't look so undignified.
Jean-Paul's postures holds a tension and his voice an edge that denies the smooth facade of professionalism he pastes down in place over his manner. "Do you own jeans?" he asks as he makes his way into the control to lob a heavy stack of paperwork onto a desk. It lands with a heavy smack. "I'm sure you can buy some, if not. You are uncomfortable and it shows. You stick out."
"Yes," Adam says, body and voice both held overtense as he turns quickly at Jean-Paul's entrance. "I just thought--" He stops any attempt to argue before it gets too far. "Well," he says after a moment. "Yes. I am inexperienced."
His head bowed over the paperwork, Jean-Paul says, "Your best teacher will be experience. More experience with more people. Get out of your element. Observe and mimic." Glancing up just briefly, he gives Adam a somewhat dubious glance and suggests, "Take a buddy. I'm putting you on a limited schedule and forwarding reading material. We'll step it up once you have worked on that. Any questions?" His tone is one of expectant dismissal. Say no and go, Adam.
Adam's jaw tenses in response to that dubious look, but he simply nods. "No," he answers. "I understand." He fails at the second half of that silent directive by standing there and failing to leave, however.
Looking back down at the papers, Jean-Paul says nothing more. He turns a page, picks up a pen, and signs something. He is busy, Adam.
"Phillip threatened to out me," Adam says a little suddenly as he watches Jean-Paul. "Here. To my family. Because I told you without -- warning him."
"What Jamie does is his business," says Jean-Paul. It would take a better student of his behavior and modes of expression to tease any more meaning out of his words, the tone in which he speaks them, or the way in which he holds himself as he talks.
Adam swallows. He is silent for a moment as he continues to study Jean-Paul. "I know you hate me," he says, hesitantly, almost reluctantly, "and I know you owe me absolutely nothing. But he would listen to you."
Pen stilling, Jean-Paul glances up with slowly dawning incredulity. He studies Adam for a long, silent moment.
Adam opens his mouth to speak, to plead, to justify, but, with an effort, holds back. His body is taut under Jean-Paul's examination.
Just slightly, Jean-Paul nods, and then he goes back to his work.
Surprise comes before relief, but both are distinct in that small release of tension. "Thank you," Adam whispers, and then he turns to go quickly.
Bye, Adam. Jean-Paul keeps his pen moving over pages that probably don't even have anything to sign, just to look like he is busy.
b. stealth b. stealth b. stealth