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The Weapon X facility has changed substantially over the last few weeks. Thanks to the shifting needs of the environment and the government, Weapon X has experienced an entire overhaul in program — something that all of its denizens will have noticed. For one thing, the 'newly appointed' Colcord has redone all of the files and rewrote the major goals of the program, although the newest ones seem remarkably different than the last.
However, changes in climate mean changes in how the program gets handed down. Which is why he's called a staff meeting today. With his fingers steepled at the end of the board room table, Colcord eyes each of those present. "Welcome, friends," he offers grimly. "I wanted to check that you all, of course, are pleased with the transformations to your respective areas. Those of you who worked alongside Stryker will notice vast differences in how things are run. I trust each of you is well resourced?" his eyebrows lift expectantly.
*
Without Stryker, Moira has actually found herself with a bit *more* freedom. He was the one that least trusted her and he's not been hovering as much, so she's taken a few other liberties. All disguised as going to help other teams, curious about how her research is going in other areas, etc. Of course, every time she 'helps', there is the smallest little bit of sabotague. It's careful, trying to do it in a way that no one would notice unless they share her own brilliance. A polluted sample. A test series that comes out negative when it should be positive. Swapping out control groups. Scientific sabotague wasn't *hard* to do, but it was very hard to do without getting caught. Everyone around is too brilliant.
So, she's there, eager and loyal as she's shown to everyone else, in the room as the meeting is called. It's probably the first time she's been able to see the whole team together, so she looks around, studying them all, trying to memorize the faces of the names she does not know. A neutral, pleasant smile crosses her features. She nods slightly to Colcord, "It's been… a transition, but the tools are still effective and what we need. It's nicer working in closer quarters, actually, sir."
*
'Dr. Gretchen Steingate' joined the project towards the tail end of Stryker's regime, and has since managed to stay on thanks to her diligence in showing up to evaluate subjects(and possibly even the odd employee, given recent stresses); and no small amount of anti-mutant/Soviet bigotry couched in the language of conservative fear. Like Moira, she's kept any sabotage subtle, playing to feelings of resentment or anger, of homesickness, of resolution in an effort to slow the conditioning process down.
Moreover, she's made an effort to steal, just, anything that wasn't nailed down, that she thought she could get away with stealing— files, mostly.
"Mr. Stryker could've organized a barracks just fine, I'm sure," Gretchen says from her seat near the back of the room, "but I don't know that he was really prepared for an operation of this magnitude, this importance. These last few weeks have been a revelation, sir." She is, as is often the case, wearing a labcoat over a long skirt and simple blouse(today's colors: dark blue/cream) along with comfortable heels and glasses. "Dr. MacTaggert's right: the shift to a closer-knit operation was the way to go."
*
Murmurs in the room seem to indicate agreement with both Moira and Gretchen's assessments. "Good," Colcord replies towards both of the women with a solid nod. He shifts in his seat. "I trust that life after Stryker has enabled you to do your jobs more effectively." His eyebrows lift expectantly and he emits a long-suffering sigh. "Stryker, as I'm sure you know, had goals that did not align with the intentions of the project or this office. While we are drawing on the same research, we will be pivoting our attentions in other ways."
He nods once at Gretchen. "I'm sure you've all seen the news lately. Mutant violence has proven undeniably problematic. The crime rate has skyrocketed, particularly among those involved in superhuman crimes. These individuals have assaulted others for no apparent reason. I trust you have heard about the assault that happened to City Hall?" He glances about the room, as some begin to murmur varying degrees of acknowledgement. "And the one on Central Park during clean up?"
*
A slight clearing of Moira's throat comes and she gives the other scientist a respectful, quiet nod, "Thank you, Doctor…" She didn't really know the woman's name, but she appreciates the back up. Her eyes narrow, trying to remember if they'd met. Where the woman had come onto the project. She didn't have time for it. Moira is then looking back to their new boss and giving him a sweetly sad smile. Sometimes it's easy to play with the emotions. The actual sadness she feels at all the fear around mutants is just pushed forward as sadness about these tragedies. Who could tell the difference? "…Yes…it's been awful. But… sir, may I ask… Without Stryker, what IS our new directive? Where are we pivoting our attention? That changes the research fundamentally, you understand…"
*
"Towards something that'll do these sad creatures and the rest of us both some good, I can only hope," Gretchen suggests as her shoulders stiffen, lips pursed in sympathy, and disdain, and fear. "Some of them really do come from extreme circumstances— the kinds of lives that a normal person - you or I, say - would no doubt struggle in as well. Obviously, you or I would find ourselves more capable of venting our frustrations than they seem to be, but regardless: for all his faults, Stryker built something uniquely capable of saving the ones who could still be worth something, and protecting us from the rest, so I just hope that we'll be keeping our potential in mind, going forward."
The shrink slowly exhales once she's said her piece, drops her shoulders, and tips her head down. She's been on board since late August, brought in to evaluate the Coney Island subjects not long before the facility was raided, and then to do the same in Canada briefly before being recalled during the restructuring. Unless Moira happened to need to speak to someone about the stress of being complicit in a horrific anti-mutant conspiracy, it's unlikely that they would have met, though if she's ever checked out the psych evals, she may recognize Dr. Steingate's name.
*
"Well, Doctor MacTaggert, I'm glad you asked," Colcord leans forward in his chair and exchanges glances with his assistant of the moment — a waif looking woman who barely looks like she can stand. Authoritatively, his fingers drum against he table, and he contemplates the two women in turn. He inhales a sharp breath. "Stryker was obsessive and sloppy. His motivations were warped, and, perhaps set this office back exponentially. Especially in terms of contacts and respect."
He clasps his hands together with a loud clap. "That, of course, will not stand. We have important roles to fulfill." His gaze lands on Moira for several beats. "When you came to this office, you expressed a desire to help mutant kind, and dear Doctor, I guarantee you, we intend to help them the most effective way possible." His lips curve into a grim smile, almost like his face was never meant to express joy of any kind. "We are aiming to offer a solution to the mutant problem. The cure, is the only thing our world truly requires in order to set evolution back on track. Many have no ideas how to control their abilities, and, as we saw from Stryker's shining example, few were capable and competent even when given adequate training and discipline."
*
The slightly nervous, maybe over exciteable brunette nods quietly to their new boss. Her pale eyes flicker back to the other woman, narrowing, trying to figure something out about her, but she didn't want to stare. ESPECIALLY not at the psychologist. Bad choice. So, she jerks her eyes away and looks back to Colcord, forcing herself to settle down and back in her chair, look casual, even if her heart was going a hundred miles an hour.
"…Yes, and I still believe in those things. This is a program that should help mutants as much as humanity. Because they are still human. Just…different. Twisted. If we can figure a way to cure that… then we can all get back to being human. Is that what you are discussing?"
*
Gretchen's eyes remain turned down while her lower body tries to kick and tap out some of the anxieties stirred up by having to contemplate the terrible violence that mutants are capable of. She chews her bottom lip firmly, listens to Colcord lay out his vision for the future— and briefly, at 'the cure', lifts her head before dropping it back down to peer at the ground with widening eyes.
"Sir…" she exhales, incredulous.
After a breath, she lifts her eyes to flick them between Moira, some of the other scientists, the Director, and - ultimately - the ground again, wondering, "Is it really— just like that, it could be done?" She draws in another, shaking breath and bids herself to look squarely up at him. "We could save them all instead of having to worry about corraling them? How— how could such a thing be?"
*
Colcord casts Natasha that same serpentine smile and he nods. "I'm suggesting we engage in natural selection that," Colcord's eyes turn upwards, "is not so natural. It will provide a cure for those who nature should not have gifted with extreme talents while those that should have such gifts will be awarded them."
He shoots the table a sharp grin followed by a nod. "Imagine the potential. We could ensure that the people who cannot be trusted with such talents will not have them. Those that cannot feel some semblance of control will not be so burdened. And those that would be aided by such abilities will be so enhanced. That is where we are pivoting. Not weapons, but actual individuals able to engage and consider their circumstances — who have been trained to think in our government's interests."
*
A touch of confusion and genuine worry flickers across Moira's features. No doubt, but worry. This was taking her research to a whole new level. Had she missed some development in the labs she was watching so carefully? "…The…the possibilities are…almost more to dream of, sir." She offers, clearing her throat carefully. Then she forces another smile and squares her shoulders. She needed to try and be commanding. "…Tell me…is this just a new directive, or have was actually found…Such a switch?"
*
Gretchen deflates a little when the brilliant geneticist expresses doubt, but keeps her eyes trained on the Director. "An excellent question," she says with a firm nod. "This is a dream scenario, indeed, so we can't go risking it by getting ahead of ourselves, getting lost in the possibilities. Has there been any consideration regarding the vetting process for candidates? I'd love to assist there, if nothing's been settled on yet."
Her gaze shifts towards Moira towards the end, searching for the geneticist's eyes. If she manages to make contact, she'll hold it just long enough to give the other woman a perplexed look, a small headshake, and slightly pursed lips; the intention is to try and urge her to settle her nerves a little, but it's an awfully subtle gesture for someone who's not used to this line of work.
*
Colcord eyes Moira at length. His eyebrows lift, and his gaze moves towards the waif assistant. "Indeed. The head of RnD can discuss more of these possibilities with each of you, especially in terms of how we are currently executing our long-term goals." His arms fold over his chest. "We have a method, a resource, that seems to null abilities. Of course, we aim to repackage it as needed in order to aid people in their transition."
He nods at Gretchen, "You, of course, will be privy to the process of selection. We will be screening from the best and brightest our country offers."
*
The look from Natasha is almost reassuring. Or, at least, it serves as a distraction to the slight panic that seizes in her heart as the man comments about having the resources. Moira doesn't let it show on her face but, for just a moment, all of her *freezes*. She doesn't breathe, doesn't move, she just keeps that slightly odd, neutral smile. Then she resets herself and nods in seeming approva to Colcord. "…That sounds…wonderful. I highly look forward to meeting the rest of the team and seeing how fast we can move. You know I'm on board, no matter what, sir." Lies, lies, such lies. But she's trying. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. Maybe she's just tired. She gives one last, small nod.
*
Gretchen, meanwhile, looks as if she's just seen Jesus, and Jesus is waiting for her to cut a rug with him.
"Thank you, sir, of— thank you," she stammers while lowering her head and nodding fervently. Her smile comes in flutters, restrained only by the need to remain professional. "Whatever you need, I'm your woman— I just can't bear the thought of anyone else being hurt by these creatures' mad impulses."
To Moira, she then turns to add, "And I just want to say a special thank you to you, and everyone else whose brilliance paved the way for this achievement. The world's going to be a much better place for your efforts, soon."