2013.09.21 - Creative Programming

With the school year having started in full swing, Doug Ramsey was keeping occupied. Linguistics studies for the students, tinkering with Kitty over electronic and computer systems, and doing the occasional check-ins with the X-Men in Genosha.

Currently, at the moment, he was taking a well-earned break in the main recreation room, the gaming console lighting up the screen.

Sitting at his feet, on the other hand, was a large purple mechanical bot, one that had a red eye mounted on a stalk. The stalk was currently curled around its body in the equivalent of a dog at rest.

Something catches the corner of his eyes. "Hey. Can I help you?" he asks, waiting for an opportune moment to pause and see who was there, as the re-programmed Spider-Slayer pulls its eye-stalk up to look at the newcomer...

This late at night, the majority of the people up and about are the ones who have a reason for avoiding others. Strictly speaking, Monet does not care about other people. However, she is not specifically a student here and might as well take advantage of her lack of curfew. The concept was alien to her, anyway.

She stands in one of the entrances to the recreation room, silhouetted by the darkness of the hall behind her. She is dressed about as casually as someone like her can manage: jeans and a patternless black tank top. The teen has not even taken off her shoes. This place is still strange to her.

When Doug turns to address her, Monet does not immediately react. She continues watching the screen beyond him, idly stirring whatever hot liquid is in her tea cup. She uses her finger and does not seem to mind that there's still steam rising from her drink.

After several seconds, Monet lowers her eyes. "Perhaps. You are Doug Ramsey, correct? You teach Linguistics here."

"Linguistics and programming," Doug acknowledges, as he pauses, turning towards Monet. "yes, that's me."

Clad in a James Bond 007 T-shirt and jeans, Doug seems to have essentially settled down for the evening, letting his hair down. Bright blue eyes assesses Monet's stand-offish attitude, trying to get a read off her body language. What was she, stiff and nervous? Or was that just the attitude of a normally supremely confident person loath to admit something?

"Down, girl," Doug says to the bot, which settles back down. "What can I do for you, miss...?" She didn't look like a student, so she might be one of the newly arrived faculty or guests who'd passed security muster that he hadn't looked at yet.

"Programming? Not 'hacking'?" the woman asks with a raised eyebrow. She taps her finger on the edge of her teacup. She spares Doug's robotic companion a lingering glance.

"Monet St. Croix. I am staying at the Institute in guardianship of my younger sisters while attending ESU. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." It is more likely a formality to make his acquaintance than a pleasure, judging by the tone of her voice.

Monet pauses to sip her drink and then enter the room properly, rounding the corner of a couch in her way. "I am interested in instruction relating to the structure and implementation of advanced security systems, Mr. Ramsey. Do you have any experience in that area?"

Eyebrows arched in a semblance of innocence, Doug replies, "Really, Ms. St. Croix, do you think we would be teaching our students -hacking-? No, we're just doing programming." The raised eyebrow and other cues has Doug considering just what she might have heard, and from whom.

Doug smiles, a half-crooked smile. "Oh, well, it's a pleasure to make -your- acquaintance," the young man returns, the smile more sincere than the tone of Monet's voice. The smile fades, replaced by an arched eyebrow. "I may, but... if we're looking at hardware, Kitty's the person to talk to. I'm better with software."

Tilting his head, Doug gets up, moving towards the door to close it, and then turn around to lean against it. "Have a seat, Ms. St. Croix. I suppose first off I should ask why you've come to me. Who sent you?"

Monet maintains her icy composure as Doug denies her assertion. She can play this game. Everyone at the Institute insists on playing it. Most people in Genosha played it, as well. Emma Frost played it to some degree, unable to resist commentary on the greater state of things. Monet knows the truth.

Or, some of it.

She continues to contemplate her tea. Doug closes the door without incident, and Monet takes another sip. This one was easier. The first piece is always the most difficult, perhaps.

"No one sent me," Monet answers truthfully. She accepts the offer, choosing an overstuffed chair that almost succeeds in engulfing her. "I believe I have already said why I have come to you. Would you like me to rephrase?"

It actually wasn't a denial as much as non-affirmation. Although Doug can grasp quickly, from the way she's reacting that dragging this out was liable to stir up Monet's ire in a manner he wouldn't be prepared to deal with.

"No," Doug sighs. "Someone told you then, and you decided you were in need of it. Okay, so what is it you need, Ms. St. Croix?"

Leaning back against the door so that he could be sure to terminate the conversation as needed, the young blond mutant lifts a hand, non-verbally indicating to move on to the story.

Monet narrows her eyes and tilts her head.

"Again, I believe I have already told you this information. I have come to you for instruction in the structure and implementation of advanced security systems. Mr. Ramsey, you seem uneasy. Is there something wrong?"

She takes another sip. She's even carrying the saucer around. There's two little cookies balanced on the edge.

Now Doug shifts, uneasily. "Well..." How to explain this? Monet being extremely self-possessed and assured in her attitude, with little in the way of cues that would make him relax around her presence. Harsh, standoffish...

"Well, if we're being honest, I have no idea why you need to be taught in it, so I'm not willing to do it until I know why," Doug admits, after a moment's of pantomiming a goldfish. "But I suppose I could do it, if we're not looking at instructions for... 'creative programming'."

The young woman smiles behind her teacup. It is a secret kind of smile, one that is meant for Doug to just barely catch and perhaps think that he was not meant to see it at all.

"I see. Concerns about my morality are another matter entirely. I can assure you that you will not unwittingly aid me in fulfilling any nefarious plans. You do not have to rely solely on my word. Dr. Grey can vouch for my moral standing."

Monet lowers the teacup and saucer. She looks at the armrests and apparently judges them to be ill-suited as surfaces, because she reaches out and places the teacup in front of her. It floats, as if resting on an invisible table.

"Would you prefer that I wait for you to confirm this with Dr. Grey? I am a busy woman, Mr. Ramsey. I would greatly appreciate you taking me as honest."

"I... see," Doug nods. Canting his head to the side, the blond mutant nods slowly. Well, Dr. Grey. He supposes that was what had happened, though he -was- surprised that Jean hadn't tipped him off that this might be possible.

"No, no, that's all right," Doug says, as he regards the floating tea-cup.

As Lassie sits up, its red-eye glowing at the display, Doug reaches to pat the bot. "Down. All right. Let's see what we can do about teaching you how to create secure systems. I'll have to call Kitty in for hardware support, but we should be good to go."

Monet stands, casually plucking the teacup and saucer from the air as she moves away from the chair. She smiles. It is a reward for agreeing to do what she wants. Some men have considered it a worthy prize. These men were also so incredibly rich that a famously attractive and intimidating woman smiling at them was worth something. Being wealthy alters your priority structure.

"Thank you, Mr. Ramsey. Shall we proceed to the laboratory? I am familiar with hardware in this field, so perhaps we will not need the services of 'Kitty' so soon."

Monet is more than familiar, it turns out. She is a frightening student: aggressive, intelligent, and more than willing to speak up when necessary. She virtually consumes information, making leaps and bounds in minutes that would take other students months. Whatever Doug is willing to throw at her, Monet gamely takes on.

Hours later, Monet finishes her second cookie. She does not look worse in any measure. She does not even appear to be tired. She considers the pile of books and equipment dragged out piece by piece during the marathon session. Rays of sunlight have begun to touch the top of a particularly tall stack of manuals.

"I suppose it would be polite for me to put things away."

It wasn't as though Doug was unfamiliar with the entire 'rewarded by a dazzling smile from a famously attractive and intimidating woman' system.

So, compliantly enough, the young blond mutant goes along, after saving the game and sending Lassier to his room.

At first, tentatively starting slow, Doug is caught up in the enthusiasm of actually teaching someone who can follow what he's doing, and thusly keeps going, losing track of time.

"Mmmm?" Doug comments, as he looks up from the computer screen, blinking his eyes owlishly. "Oh, uh, yeah." Poking once more at the white ICE program, Doug absentmindedly notes, "Anyway, it's up to you to see if you want to make it White, Black, or Gray ICE... but you've got to be checking constantly against the breaker or picks..."

Monet raises a finger to her lips. "You are visibly exhausted, Mr. Ramsey. I suggest you attempt to get some sleep. Classes will begin in a few hours."

The young woman rises to her feet, rolling her neck. It's her only concession to the fact that she (and Doug) have spent the majority of the past several hours seated in front of a computer.

She places a hand on his shoulder. She has a light touch. "Thank you for the lesson, Mr. Ramsey. I will work on these materials for now. Same time tomorrow?"

The clock, once glanced at, causes Doug to groan. "Oh man... I'm going to be dead on my feet."

Scrambling to his feet, Doug winces. "Not the same time... I've got an appointment."

Running his hand through his hair, the young blond rubs at his eyes. "We'll just have to do this a bit earlier. And then you'll have to tell me what you're running security programs for."

Yawning tremendously, Doug holds up a hand. "Another time, I'd better get some sleep before class."

During Doug's realization of the hour and subsequent mourning, Monet puts away books. She does not waste any time replacing them, sliding each into the exact spot they started at without hesitation.

The woman pauses when Doug waves, one arm full of instructional materials. She does not return the gesture. "Good morning, Mr. Ramsey. You are an excellent teacher. I will speak to the administrators about enrolling Nicole and Claudette in your class next semester. I am sure they are not too young to excel in these things."

If they're anything like their older sister, they probably aren't.