"How are you holding up?"
Clover knew what she would say before he even asked, but that was the shaky downside of checking up on somebody like Penny; being mechanical, the concept of pain, while defined in her mind, was indescribable to one who lacked the nerve endings to experience such sensations. That didn't stop him from asking out of habit, but seeing as her scans ran clean upon her restart, he knew she'd just reiterate on that.
"I'm experiencing no internal faults, although I am grateful for your concern." Well, at the very least, she was trying to understand his worries.
Leaning back on his chair, Clover sighed while shaking his head, and instead of breaking down what he really wanted to know, he tried a different method of delivery.
"Good to hear. So, in the wake of a clean check, how are your emotions handling everything?" Specification wasn't entirely necessary, but he had no real knowledge on just how many ways there were to interpret "how do you feel about everything," and so he settled on singling out the emotional aspect. Penny was a clever girl, and despite her habit of taking everything quite literally, he could honestly say she'd come a long way towards her journey for individuality.
Then again, as far as he was concerned, she was as Human as anyone else in his books.
Her expression blanked here, as it usually did when faced with a direct question of opinion, however it lasted a couple of seconds longer than usual, and it was due to this minute lapse of instantaneous reply which informed him of how troubling the issue must have seemed to Penny. One final blink was enough to tell him she'd made up her mind.
"I am unsure what my emotional resonance has to do with my current security parameters. Please specify."
Dodging the question... This was a new development which had Clover twisting another knot into the strands of intrigue he held towards her rapid development. Sure, Penny had been off-put a few times before, but this was her first use of the tactic known as diversion; legitimately, that was. Normally, Penny would answer him regardless of her feelings, but this time she seemed adverse.
"It's not quite about security." He leaned over, smirking and clicking his tongue. "Sometimes I just like to know how my friends are doing."
She blanked again, but this time, it passed them by significantly faster.
"I... am unfortunately having issues with deducing my current mental response towards many aspects of the past several recent events."
"That's okay." He twerked his smirk into a genuine grin this time, only to then ease it off into a reserved, almost complacent, smile. "I'd probably be the same if I were in your shoes. Having yourself KO'd because some creep keeps infecting me." Clover gave off a little shiver. "It makes my skin crawl."
"Does it truly?"
"Oh yeah." Swiping his previous smirk from the floor, he plopped it back over his mug. "But then again, it eases the blow to know we're only moments away from catching the weirdo."
"Noted... Clover, might I ask why you would choose to feel that way in such a situation?"
"It's not really much of a choice." Rolling his wrist, he clapped his hands over his legs. "We don't get to choose how we immediately feel towards things, only how we respond. And even then, that can be a bit finicky too."
Penny never had a comeback for that, simply sitting there and, he assumed, thinking about what he'd proposed. But he had her figured out now, or so he wanted to believe. For a long while, she probably never came across anything like this: a set of circumstances where her emotions and logic collided. She knew how she should have felt, and yet those feelings disagreed. For one who'd only just gotten a decent hold on her emotions, it probably came as a shock that this outcome was even possible; even if examples were plenty.
After all, why would logic and emotion counteract one another?
Both supposedly served to aid in the health and happiness of their host, but to have them fight one another must have appeared quite the bother. But Clover didn't mind this; heck, he'd say Penny's struggle with that irrationality was a sign of her Humanity. People were complex and often contradictory creatures, and the fact that she could meet them on that level solidified her transition from machine into man... err, well, woman.
"I believe the best word to ascribe to my current predicament would be concern." Interesting choice; Clover attuned his ears to her frequency, curious as to just what she had in store. "I am wary of what I'm forced to endure, and while my current situation is both the most effective path for apprehending our invader, it has also robbed me of several memories. I feel anger towards having to lose those brief moments of awareness, but I know it was necessary. Even so, I am constantly running simulations of what may have happened should I not have performed according to plan. All of them end in potential failure, but the element commonly referred to as 'luck' continuously provides me with scenarios of success, even though their individual chances of being correct based on current updated information are all below a single percentage."
Ahh, everyone's favorite game: what if? Below a single percentage eh? Clover figured these were some pretty wacky ideas if she counted them unrealistic enough to sit below even one percent.
"And how exactly do some of these low rollers go?"
"The identity of the criminal is replaced with the faces of several individuals close to us in either rank or relationship, and is always caught in the act before they can proceed to tamper with my systems from the outside. Such a thing is now pointless as the plan is in motion and I've already been rebooted, but I keep getting internal, inexplicable urges to test these theories even when I know they'd provide nothing to help us."
"Yeah." Clover leaned back again, leaning his chair on its hind legs and wrapping his arms behind his head. "I get like that sometimes too. It can be pretty addictive: wondering how things could have turned out differently."
"What purpose is there by considering these thoughts, even when the event itself has passed?"
"I'm sure someone somewhere has written a few theories on why that is; heck, they may even have some pretty reasonable answers which you just need to download once you're in full swing again." Letting the chair fall back down again, Clover decided just to give her his own point of view. "But if you ask me, it's because people as a whole don't really make much sense. We like what we like, and when we dislike something, we really, really dislike it. If things don't go our way, we whine and complain for however long we can, even if it won't do us any good, because sometimes venting can take some heat out of the fire."
"I believe I'm already acquainted with how fatigue can dampen emotional processing, however I feel no such fatigue, so why would I experience this desire to vent and theorize?"
"It's not about physically wearing us out, it's about emotional release." Clover corrected, tapping his noggin with his index finger. "The mind is tricky with what it wants and why, and even with all our progress in translating how it works, we still haven't got everything. But we do have a decent grasp on how it changes in regards to experience, even if we don't know the exact reason behind it. Constant wondering allows us to pretend we have some semblance of control over what happens, even when we don't, and it gives us some piece of mind to imagine an ideal where things go differently. It doesn't make much sense at first, but as we wear ourselves out, we start to consider how things actually went, or are going, a bit differently."
Penny blinked again, and so he put it as simply as he could; summarizing his whole point in a single sentence.
"Basically, we clear our heads while venting, that way we can focus clearly on what is, instead of what could have been."
"Stress obscures critical thought." Penny's response was just the type of logical definition he kind of expected, but it told him enough: she somewhat understood. "Expelling stress tires out emotion, and thus allows better processing."
"Close enough."
He didn't really have much more to say. Penny had her way of intake, and no amount of clarification would really change that. This was something she'd need to discover on her own, which would only be mashed deeper into the mud if he kept on prattling and pounding ideas into her head.
"Hello?" A tiny voice peaked around the corner, and Clover was unbelievably thankful for the interruption in the way of a little girl. Inky came in upon seeing their watchful eyes, pointing back at the door. "Mister Doctor wants to talk to you."
He never got a chance to question why before she made her way to Penny, taking the currently on standby defender by the hand and pulling her towards the one place he knew she wanted most. Penny got the gist too, and she put on her trademark smile before getting up to follow. Inky wasn't all that good at the game, but Penny's skills of questionable legitimacy were a treat in the child's eyes.
Heading into the office, the first thing he saw was the not so hopeful expression, and thus came the equally dreadful news.
"I've gotten an update on the whereabouts of Inky's parents." Clover was then waved over, and once his eyes laid on the title of the residence, he coughed up a tired huff. The name didn't matter, and neither did the employees. The second he saw 'mortuary,' he knew that telling Inky was out of the question; at least for now.
"Paraphrase." Clover commanded, knowing full well how rude his tone became, but he hardly cared, and neither did Pietro, who laid out the basic no nonsense brief of events.
"He was found a couple of days ago, badly decomposed. Seems he's been dead for a while, meaning Inky very well might have been in White Fang custody for longer than we've previously suspected." Dr. Polendina brought up an image, showing a man looking more than a little down on his luck. "Jack Sustrai: known for a gambling ring dubbed "The Beanstalk." He supposedly used it to launder money from a drug he was charged with developing known by the moniker Wondrous Beans."
"A peddler?" Clover cast a less than subtle look of suspicion. "Are you sure? Most dealers we find tend to have backloads of money, and this guy looks like he's come right out of a shelter."
"His business was shut down a long while ago, and ever since then Atlas had kept a close eye on him, essentially preventing him from acting out. They'd also froze most of his legitimate banking accounts, and whether from fear or otherwise, his following poverty might mean his underground contacts refused to aid him with so much heat around his name."
"So this guy's Inky's father then?"
Pietro nodded, bringing up a list.
"Biologically, yes. However, this is where things get a bit more interesting." Scrolling to the top, the doctor outlined the name of their facility. "Does the name Curio's Castaways ring any bells?"
"No." Although, something did seem a bit familiar about the title; not in the literal sense, but in meaning.
"Alright. Well, how about Wonderland Wanderers?"
"You already know that answer." Clover got another nod as Dr. Polendina twisted back to the screen.
"You've mentioned it from time to time, however it looks as though you haven't been keeping up with them all that much."
"I've had school to content with, and now we have a potential war." Winter's message came through at the perfect time; not only had she told him the plan they settled on, but he also got to report Penny's wellbeing. Now, whether she had a part to play in the scheme from here on out was something only time could tell.
"That's a 'no' then?" One hard look from himself seemed to set the doctor back on the right path, but not before the elderly gentleman sighed silently and shook himself. "Well, to get you up to speed, shortly after your lot left and joined Atlas Academy, the orphanage went through a leadership change, as well as a name change to go along with it."
"You're saying our old home became Curio's?" Nobody could ever understand just how much this set him on edge. "What happened to the caretakers?"
"Woah there, calm down son." Pietro suggested, which reminded Clover that he was supposed to have grown beyond rash reactions. Settling down through force of will, the older man delved into explanation. "Nobody was let go, if that's what you're worried about. All the folks who'd taken care of you and the rest of your friends are all still kicking just fine."
"Right." Clover proceeded to stop holding his breath, which he hadn't noticed he'd been doing until a heavy one fell from his chest. "Apologies; I lost my temper. Continue."
"It's no trouble, honestly." Pietro highlighted a short paragraph before the list. "Now, as we see here, these are the names of the children registered as residents in this particular home. Now, the problematic bit here would be this section over yonder." Pulling up another document, Clover curled a brow, commenting on the oddity before them.
"Is this a registration form?"
"It is." Pietro's voice dimmed. "However, rather than being one for adoption, this is one to allow parents to leave their own children in the home's care. Most of the worse off folks will often leave their kids here, hoping some generous soul will provide them with a better life, however that isn't what Jack seems to have done."
"Jack left Inky here for other reasons I presume?"
"Jade."
"Jade?"
"That's her real name: Jade Sustrai. She'd been added back when she was just an infant. However, she's not the only one who was left in this home as a baby by Jack. In fact, let me show you something." Some more scrambling around had a much different file displayed on screen, which the doctor elaborated on. "Back when the home still carried the name you grew up with, there was another child left behind by the man." Pietro then brought up an image Clover didn't expect to see, as rather than being that of a child, it was a wanted post of a criminal who, to their knowledge, was in league with Salem herself. "Turns out, he left behind a daughter before the rise of his business."
"Emerald Sustrai..." Clover swallowed, refraining from showing his anger. He had a feeling based on the surname, but he'd been hoping to be wrong. Unfortunately, a coincidence this was not. "The same woman who ran with Cinder." It was then his mind clicked the pieces together, and warily, his realization tiptoed free from his lungs. "They're sisters."
"Half sisters." Pietro corrected. "Inky, or I guess Jade in this case, does not share a mother with one of Remnant's most wanted. And that, precisely, is why I brought this up. I managed to get a tiny hair sample from her when she took a short bath a while back. Sending it to a friend to get some tests done, we not only learned that Jack was her father, but we also learned who the mother was. Now, tell me, can you guess who led the investigation into taking down Jack's underground distribution ring?"
"Based on the question, I guess I'm safe in assuming it's someone we know."
Pietro put on an uneasy smirk, pulling in some air and bringing up a profile. Instantly, the questions piled on, only... Clover didn't know what finding the answers could possibly relieve.
"Julia Beck; sometimes called 'Jill' by her co-workers." Any satisfaction that came from solving the mystery had died on Pietro's lips, leaving only dreadful unease to paint the usually jolly doctor's portrait. "Or, as you better know her: Council Chairholder Beck."
Inky's mother had been here all along, and based on how stern and unwavering Miss Beck always acted when it came to business, it had Clover wondering if she even cared about her daughter. All of a sudden, Clover began to question if stopping Jack's ring had really been a matter of pure business, or had something happened which endangered her position on the council.
Abhorrently, he began to question if Inky's very existence had something to do with it; had the crackdown itself been done to silence the one man capable of revealing the truth? While that was concerning in its own right, something else shot to the forefront of his mind. Inky had been captured by the White Fang, meaning she had to have been 'acquired' somehow.
"How did the Fang get a hold of Inky? We found her all alone, tied up as bait."
Pietro hummed, powering off the screen and apparently done with the reveals. "From what I've gathered, Jade was collected by a man willing to adopt. I'd spoken with one of the workers over the phone the moment I learned of Jade's true origins. Without giving them any cause for concern, I merely questioned them under the guise of her new family doctor seeking news of any recently developed medical issues. They told me a Faunus couple recently adopted her, around a week before you brought her in to me."
A week; they had her for a solid week. Swearing under his breath, Clover shoved away all of his darker thoughts and theories; they couldn't have been too horrible to her, now with the way she acted now. He didn't have time to fret over that, not when Salem was so close by. Really, the major concern was what they were to do with Inky.
"Where do we go from here?" He didn't like the idea of just sending her back to the orphanage, but he also didn't know if having her meet with Miss Beck was a good idea either; not if Jack's downfall was anything to go by.
Thankfully, Pietro offered some reprieve.
"If it's alright, I believe it would be best if she stayed with me for now. She gets along well with Penny, and she'll be safer here than anywhere else at the moment." His tone took on a professional air afterwards. "Once this is all settled, I'll see about convincing James to put her under protective care, and then we'll be able to confront Miss Beck ourselves, and question her about her time with Jack."
A small bit of courage crawled its way back up Clover's throat, allowing him to speak clearly, even as he made, from his perspective, an outlandish observation.
"Or, in other words: we'll be blackmailing a government official into providing sanctuary for her illegitimate daughter."
"In a manner of speaking, yes."
That sounded kind of good, actually. Clover didn't hold any ill-will towards most of the council, but he knew what it was like to be abandoned. While he remained forever unsure if his place in the orphanage was due to tragedy or not, he did hold a special hatred in his heart for those willing to throw their family and friends away.
None of the others would show it, they were all taught how not to, but he knew their feelings would be just the same as his.
Still, there was a chance things might not go so well.
"It's reasonably the best course of action we have, however…" Hardening his jaw, he sent one small glance back to the door, unable to get the image of a conflicted Inky standing before her mother out of his mind. "If things start to go sour, I'll confront Beck myself."
"I understand your frustration." Pietro crossed his hands on his lap. "But remember, Julia Beck is still a member of the Atlesian Council. Any malcontent directed towards her will be seen as treason."
"I'm aware." A darker style of grin wrote itself across his face. "But so too is the act of officials collaborating with the criminal element. And when confronted with possible living proof of her potential underground exploits, there's no way they'll let her out of their sight before an investigation is done. She'll be forced to sit and wait as everything is brought to light before her."
"Do you believe it'll come to that?" The doctor had a point there; even according to the general, Miss Beck had been the one most willing to help. Would she really make a fuss over her daughter?
"Honestly, I hope not." Still, Clover steeled his nerves. "But if push comes to shove, I'll be ready."
Author's note
…
Still nothing extreme in the way of time on my end. With that in mind, I'll keep the usual schedule going. But if we start missing days, just assume things finally got wacky.
This chapter is more so just some calm with Penny as she deals with the strangeness of illogical emotions. Clover does his best to explain it, but he's not a doctor, so it's iffy if he even knows what exactly he's saying. We also got an update on Inky, who's been sitting on the sidelines for quite a while, and a surprise connection to Emerald of all people.
Will this matter? Who knows.
Next time we'll get a bit more movement; I promise.
Until next time.