fandomhighdorms | Chester A. Arthur Campfire, Thursday Evening

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Chester A. Arthur Campfire, Thursday Evening

Emma was bored. Staying in the cabin for more than a few hours was making her twitch; she'd the close quarters made things too loud, even when she was at her most focused. After being on her own for over a year, and just Hank for company for the last month or so, so many people was making her almost physically ill.

Which is why she was lounging out by the campfire in defiance of the glitter that still occasionally drifted down from the sky. Sunglasses on her face and idly flipping through a magazine while she sucked on a popsicle she'd found somewhere, letting her mind streach and wander about as she relaxed the tight hold she'd been keeping over herself since this morning.

Bored. For a school supposedly full of people with powers, so far, most of them were startlingly dull. Emma was starting to despair.

Maybe some of their thoughts would be more entertaining than the students themselves seemed to be.

[Open as campfires be!]

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"I have to agree with you. My whole life is so different since I came here," she said a grin.

"Are you doing well?"

"I've got a job," she said, beaming. "And I had my first day today and I didn't mess up at all and my classes look to be exciting! Miss Day is so pretty and smart, and Loki was a lot nicer than his vocabulary suggested!"

"I remember Professor Loki. I like him well enough. He's genuine, at least."

She settled on the log a little.

"Where are you working?"

"Most people are, I think," she said, because Maron actually believed that. "Genuine! Even if they're not always nice at first. I'm at Turtle & Canary!"

Fiona didn't share this opinion.

"I'm at the new law office. So far, there wasn't much to do, but I've kept busy."

"Cabot & Associates, right?" Maron checked. "I've walked by it! Do you like the law then?"

"It's interesting. And the precedents were always useful."

She'd always played a game with her brother which consisted of using the most obscure insults possible to see if the other one could figure out what they'd said.

"I don't pay much attention to the law," she admitted, "except to know enough to not break it."

Unless she was stealing things for God. That was different.

"Sometimes you have to," she said with a shrug, "but it's good to stay out of trouble, I agree."

"Do you really think that? That it's okay to ignore the law sometimes?"

"I think sometimes there's no choice. After all, laws are just what some people thought would be a good idea."

"Like what?" she asked, eyes wide. "I always thought laws made good sense."

[I'm crashing out for the night, SP okay?]

[no worries; SP is fine!]

"If, for example" namely, a very very personal example, "someone has something you desperately need. They don't know what it is or how important it is, but you do and they won't let you have it. If it's going to save someone's life, isn't it fair to go and get it? After all, wihch is more important: trespassing or someone's life?"

"Someone's life," she said promptly. "But... what if you tried asking? How do you know they won't let you have it? Wouldn't they give it over to save someone's life?"

She shook her head.

"And if they decide just to be selfish? Or they don't believe you that someone's life is in danger?"

"I'm not stupid," she said, staring at Fiona. "I would say that then, go ahead. But I just think that without asking, you don't know, and that people can and will do good things sometimes when you don't expect it. But if you don't try, you don't know."

She raised an eyebrow at the first.

"I didn't say you were," Fiona pointed out in a softer voice than she'd been using.

"But sometimes trying that way is just a warning to someone you're coming."

"Sorry; you didn't." She shook her head, because she still thought it had had to be said. "If you don't give them a chance--why should they ever give you a chance? It goes around in circles if no one tries. Trust and faith have to start somewhere."

Maron shrugged. "Why not give people the chance?"

"Because they were the US military," she answered plainly, "and it was extremely unlikely that they would hand over a highly guarded, top secret military artifact to a fifteen year old girl who looked, by all accounts, to be entirely healthy."

"Perhaps," she admitted. "Though I would like to believe that there might have been a chance to ask."

"My brother said he did," she said after a minute, "and they just kept interrogating him.

"It's also a little hard to ask people for something that they're sworn by law to pretend doesn't exist."

But--

"But I guess you have a point. After all, when I asked my father for something I thought I'd have to try and get myself, he gave it to me."

It was information, of course, but all the same.

"I am sorry for what happened to your brother," she said, leaning back. "And glad that your father did something you didn't expect."

Maron smiled.

"You could use some kindnesses, it seems."

She wasn't sorry for Eliot over the interrogation. No, her guilt stemmed from what he'd done during the rest of the trip. They still hadn't talked about it, mostly because she didn't know how to bring it up with the 'new' Eliot without sounding like she was giving him pity.

Kindness, well... she didn't even really know how to take that.

"I can't see myself saying no to kindness," she finally said.

"I would hope not," she said, grinning now. "Otherwise that would be a true tragedy."

"I'm not so far gone as that," she said with her own smile.

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Chester A. Arthur Campfire, Thursday Evening

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