Logs:Ethics in Brains Journalism

Ethics in Brains Journalism
Dramatis Personae Harm, Marinov, Nessie
In Absentia	2020-09-26 There's a lot of people here with trauma.
Location <XAV> Gardens
From indoor gardens to outdoor, though without the protective greenhouse glass the back gardens do not last all year round. Still, the gardens out here are well-tended and well-worth spending time in, as well. The paths wending through the beds of flowers and herbs and vegetables spread out through the school's back grounds, tended by students as a credit class. Benches offer seating and a small pond is home to koi and turtles, as well as a few frogs. At the far back edges of the garden, a droning buzzing marks a few stacked white boxes as beehives. It's a pleasant evening in the gardens. Dinner is happening over in the hall, busy and loud, but Nessie's elected to take her food far away from that, tucked out by the pond with a burrito bowl that she's heaped full and high of guac and many different hot sauces together with the beans and rice and grilled chicken and veggies. Her many legs are curled underneath her; she wears only a baggy Xavier's tee and a wide straw hat shading her several pairs of eyes. She's got her bowl curled in one many-jointed pincer-tipped arm and is eating with the hand above it; her other lower arm holds a notebook that she's currently not writing in. Just frowning thoughtfully at the page between bites of food and sips from a can of cherry Coke. Harm is wearing actual blue jeans today, and a long but but lightweight linen tunic in a sunset ombre. They've just emerged from the great hall with their own (meatless) burrito bowl and a pair of cheerful pink chopsticks, their handles printed with plum blossoms. They spot Nessie and re-direct from the bench they had been aiming for, heading over to her instead. "Hi," they say, shyly. "Sorry to bother, I'd just heard..." Their eyes dip, and their voice drops slightly. "Is it true you're writing an article about -- about what happened with the PLC this summer?" Nessie's spoon hovers over her bowl, her tail giving a sharp flick as Harm approaches. She lowers the spoon. Lowers the bowl. Lowers her pencil. "Oh no did you hear something bad?" Her brows are scrunching, and her last arm hugs the notebook against her chest. "I was -- I am -- I don't know. I mean, yeah. I think -- yeah. I'm trying. You were there, right?" "Oh, no, nothing -- bad," Harm says hastily, "just that you were doing it -- trying it?" They stand just a little out of reach, clearly trying not to look directly down at Nessie's surplus limbs. "I just..." They brush a lock of hair out of their face. "Yeah, I was there," they look relieved to have a direction, here. "I didn't know whether you were still looking for...sources? I could maybe be one, but I don't know much." "I guess I am, maybe -- I don't know I don't think I'm a very good reporter like -- you're supposed to make people comfortable? I don't think..." Nessie trails off with a small duck of her head. Her legs unfold just a little so that she can inch farther back from Harm before resettling on the stone. "I don't know that's not important but anyway I still do need sources. I'm trying to get a feel for how everyone's feeling after all that, it was -- such a weird situation. From what I've heard." Harm actually tenses more when Nessie shuffles back, their eyes going wide at the skitter-click of Nessie's legs on the stone. "Um. I don't think that's really your fault," they say with a nervous chuckle. The "sorry" they add sounds more reflexive than fully apologetic. "I think I can tell you, how I feel." They glance at Nessie's meal, blushing. "Not that it has to be right now. Being a reporter doesn't mean you're always on duty, right?" Nessie's head bows further. Her tail curls in smaller and tighter down nearer her body. "Yeah, no, right, not always?" she starts to agree uncertainly; almost just as quick backtracks into: "but maybe always, like what if I decide to take off the reporter hat and then I miss something really big cuz I was eating guacamole? No, no, it's definitely always, the rice will be there." She sets the bowl down on the rocks by the pool's edge, shifting her notebook and pencil back into a better writing posture. "Do you believe the accusations about the Professor?" Marinov is wandering aimlessly in the garden, a plate with their dinner (one could say it is sashimi, if one is feeling charitable). They crouch once in awhile while distracted by frogs or fish in the water, their eyes tracking the critters closely. They're wearing a long eggshell jacket, with white pants with gold buttons all up the crotch, and criss-crossing fabric that doesn't really cover up the fur on their midsection and the middle of their chest. They raise a hand in a small wave when they notice Nessie and Harm there, calling just loud enough to be audible, "Hey, mind if I join you there?" "That's a very serious dedication to journalism," Harm says, looking impressed. "I believe some of it, I guess..." They're still mulling this over when Marinov waves to them. "Oh!" They wave back, brightening. "Hey! I don't mind." Then they turn to Nessie, "They would also be a good source." Harm's voice drops to an amazed whisper, "They fought the Professor!" Nessie's tail uncoils partway, a smile flashing quick across her face. "Oh! Hey! Hi, hey -- yeah! I mean no. I mean I don't mind. We're just talking about --" She waggles her pencil towards Harm. "You being a badass, I guess. But -- everything. I'm trying to write an article about -- what happened over the summer. Like, is it true our memories are getting erased? How do you-all feel about coming back here after that?" Before it is actually confirmed that neither minds, they do start to move towards them, but a bit more hustle in their step when the confirmation is issued. "I'm flattered that there's tales being told of my badassery," they comment as they crouch down and rest the plate on their knee. Their ears are up at attention. "So this'll be some kind of joint interview for the paper then? Are you gonna be recording this or just--" They make a writing motion. "I saw it myself," Harm says sincerely. "They knocked him out!" They mime punching their own hand, though in a very small, limited way that could not possibly be mistaken as an actual attack in this moment. "I feel...a little worried, honestly? Coming back." They chew on their bottom lip. "I don't think he's actually going around erasing our memories randomly, but Marinov can tell you better what was actually going on." "Oh --" Nessie looks doubtfully down at her pencil and notebook. "Should I be recording this, is that better, that's probably better. I like this pencil a lot though." The mechanical pencil in question is pale blue, decorated with Teddy Bears and with a colorful teddy bear eraser. She clicks the squishy-headed bear and starts writing, rapidly. "Worried -- that sounds understandable. It may not be random but does he erase them? And why? And can we be sure he won't do it again?" "I dunno if you should be recording it, I'm not the journalist, I've only watched like. Journalist movies," says Marinov. They rub their cheek lightly and add, "Your pencil does rule, though." They glance towards Harm and then shake their head, "He erased the memory of some students, yeah, old students who were at the PLC. One of them was Elias, and I was meeting him 'cause he's a great designer. Uh, so, he was saying that he only erased the memories 'cause they had some kind of trauma they couldn't overcome, so he just." They point towards their head, and then make a 'pop' motion with their hand. "I have complicated feelings about coming back, to be honest..." "Woah, that is a great pencil," Harm agrees. They're quiet through Marinov's explanation, hanging on every work. "I don't know, messing with someone's memories seems like, really extreme, even if they're having a lot of trauma." They stir the contents of their bowl restlessly, without any obvious intention of eating in. "I don't think we can be sure he won't do it again. I don't think anyone can, even the teachers who are telepaths. He's so strong!" There's a small pleased bounce in Nessie's shoulders at the acknowledgment of her Superior Pencil. She's jotting down notes quickly as the others talk, her own face just slightly scrunched in concentration. "There's a lot of people here with trauma. If trauma gets you a telepath lobotomy --" The small scrunch deepens to a scowl. "What do you think would make you feel more safe or comfortable being here again? Is there a way?" "Right, yeah, I think..." Marinov furrows their brows and rest their teeth on one of their fingers a moment. "Like, these kids, they were hurting. Hurting real bad. And this guy, a guy in authority, a guy they trusted, a guy who is in a position where he has the respect among the greater community. He says, I can fix it, I can make you feel better." They snap up one of the fish slices. "I can take the hurt away. And maybe when you're in anguish, fuck, you say. Yeah, I don't want to feel this way! I think we all feel that way sometimes, yeah? And so you agree, because surely this guy only has your best interests in mind. This guy knows what he's doing." They take in a deep breath. "But that's the thing. Nobody knows what the fuck they're doing. He's just a guy with lots of power. That doesn't make him any better to make those decisions to take part of people away, especially kids he's got all kinds of power over. Even if those parts hurt." Harm's shoulders pull sharply inward and they look down into their bowl without any hint of real interest in its contents. "Yeah. I think...I don't know. I don't think you can just fix people that way, anyhow. Obviously it didn't work with those alumni--they just ended up feeling unsettled and wrong, knowing something was missing but not why." They lick their lips. "I think if there was...accountability? If the administration reviewed the Professor's behavior and established some rules for him maybe? But maybe not even then. I would worry that they were so influenced by him they'd just...let things slide." One pair of Nessie's eyes blinks though two of the others are staring, wider. "Yeah," she says, hushed as she writes. "Yeah -- oh. Right." She has to pause for a moment to catch up with this, looking up at the others when she stops. "What would accountability look like, for a telepath? Or for the administration overall?" "I dunno what accountability looks like for them," admits Marinov. They look down at the pond and their tail curls around themselves. "I mean, obviously I think that if you get up to some weird shit, you deserve to get punched in the face. But that's not really an option for the most part. Maybe he should like. Check in with some ethics person instead of just acting however he feels like. Even though he teaches an ethics class, that isn't really his expertise, is it? What does he have a degree in? He said he came up with the curriculum for his class, 'The Ethics of Power'. And that's sorta the problem, isn't it? He's writing what the good ethics are around that shit." Harm nods at what Marinov says, probably too many times to look entirely natural. "Yeah! I think the main thing is just...he can't be the one who gets to decide that. It should be some kind of community effort, or at least there should be other people involved who could tell him 'no, that's too far' the next time he decides someone's memories need wiping." Their eyes are very wide and fearful, and their voice drops very low. "And I think if he keeps doing stuff like that, he should have to step down." "Woah." Nessie lowers her notebook once she's done writing this. "Step down? Would we change the name of the school then? Would he kick us all out this is, like, his house? That would be so weird. But," she adds hastily, "totally right this is all just -- like woah, right? And people think I'm scary. We should be making ethics classes honestly. -- I don't think I have more questions. They really should put this stuff in the brochure! Also like, if Xavier can just totally rewrite all our brains why steal people's memories and not do something useful like teach everyone all the math classes instead of making us sit through class?" While Marinov was nodding along with Nessie, their eyes widen and their jaw drops at the last part. "Holy shit! Yeah! What the fuck, Charles?! I never even-- we could all be ultra geniuses and I'm getting a fucking C in math?" They look towards Harm with eyes still wide and then back towards Nessie. "Maybe if he stepped down from being headmaster he could still like. Live here, be the old man they keep in the attic. But holy shit, at the very least he should pass the ethics class to someone else to teach! I would do a better job." "It is like woah," Harm agrees, eyes still wide, though they go even wider at Nessie's off-handed suggestion. "I have never thought of that, but it's such a good point! I guess lots of kids might not be comfortable with that, either, but it should still be an option, right?" They shake their head. "Anyway, I'm all for you teaching the Ethics of Power. Maybe...you can come back as a teacher. A lot of the teachers used to go here, right?" Nessie covers her mouth with one hand, a laugh bubbling out of her. "Oh! Oh, people already say places around here are haunted but a creepy attic telepath would make that even worse." She drops her hand, chewing uncertainly on her lip. "Maaaybe," she answers Harm's suggestion, her tail starting to uncurl just a little more. "But that's a long way off, and I have a lot of classes to pass, first."