The Knowitall Personified

[Silas Ambrose]

Dr. Silas Ambrose, is smart. Actually, smart does not even come close to describing Silas. To call Silas 'smart' would be quite possibly THE biggest understatement in the history of man, or mutant kind. Now, looking at the 22-year old young man (23 tomorrow, actually), sitting in the back seat of a cab now pulling up to the Xavier Institute, you would not expect him to be a 'hyper nerd.'

However, when he steps out of the cab, wearing a black outfit, including overcoat and says to the Hindu man who had been his cab driver, {My thanks for the ride, and many blessings upon your house, your family, and your next incarnations.}, fluently in his native tongue, then again in several other dialects in case he had mistaken which sect of the religion he followed, your opinion might change.

The amazed cab driver leaves the odd man in the black outfit, cap, and duffel bag standing at the main gate of the institute, through which he proceeds. Silas walks briskly along the road and up to the main door, pausing a second to glance at the intercom next to the door. It is not surprising, quite a few mansions/houses/top-secret mutant schools have the combination intercom/doorbell nowadays. He thinks, "It would be rude to just barge in...besides, who knows what kind of security they have?" With a shrug, Silas presses the intercom button, and as he does so, the entire mechanism that makes up the intercom, including all of the various other units throughout the school it is linked to rushes into his mind. Every little piece, component, its function, and how it works together is instantly locked in his memory. The entire event lasts less than a second, but it seems like a week to Silas.

He says calmly into the intercom, all of its secrets now his, "Hello there, I'm Silas Ambrose, the teaching applicant? Would it be alright if I came in? Oh, by the way, the connection between a few of the wires in this intercom system are a bit faulty...I could fix that if you'd like."

[Warren Worthington III]

> " Hello there, I'm Silas Ambrose, the teaching applicant? Would it be alright if I came in? Oh, by the way, the connection between a few of the wires in this intercom system are a bit faulty...I could fix that if you'd like "

Warren hits “pause” on the flight-simulator game he’s beta-testing in the rec-room and opens the front door, unsurprised by the interruption. Ororo had mentioned at the last staff meeting that a new faculty candidate was coming in, and Warren had decided to take the opportunity to get to know the guy a little before the formal interview.

He’s not quite sure what to make of Ambrose’s comments about the intercom wiring, but assumes it has something to do with the man’s mutation, which Ororo had been a little fuzzy about. Actually, it hadn’t been entirely clear he even was a mutant, although it seems unlikely he’d want to teach at the Institute otherwise. Warren’s current guess is some kind of enhanced perception.

She’d also been a bit hazy on what field Ambrose was applying to teach, but Warren had understood that after seeing the good doctor’s CV; it was so implausibly littered with advanced degrees and publications in unrelated fields that Warren had ultimately asked some discreet questions of contacts at Harvard just to confirm the guy hadn’t simply made them up. He’d then spent the better part of a day downloading and reading the articles. (Well, skimming their abstracts, anyway; the articles themselves were mostly over his head, though they seemed well-reasoned and tightly documented.) It appeared that Dr. Silas Ambrose was a genuine polymath, to a degree that makes Hank look like a specialist by contrast.

It remains to be seen whether he was someone Warren was willing to trust around what he was increasingly coming to consider “his” kids, though.

"Right on time, Dr. Ambrose… welcome! " He offers a friendly handshake with the greeting.

[Silas Ambrose]

>"Right on time, Dr. Ambrose… welcome! "

Silas smiles, and shakes the winged man's hand while stepping into the institute. He quickly scans the interor, and marvels at the fine archetecture of the institute. The hallway has very nice fung shuei. Immediately he recalls the book he had read exactly 3 years, 76 days, 9 hours, 57 minutes, and 2 seconds ago as to make certain your room was the perfect combination of style, spirit, and functionality.

"Please, just call me Silas. And you, I recall perfectly, are Warren Worthington III. A pleasure to meet you in person." After breaking the handshake, he removes his cap out of etiquette, and glances down at Warren's hand, which he had just shaken, and notes the rather impressive-looking Rolex on it. Almost against his will, Silas recalls that it is a Rolex Masterpiece: Model 18956, with a 39mm platinum gold case along with a silver diamond dial with the standard 42 baguette diamond bezel. This model tracks Hours, minutes, sweep seconds, day, and date. He knows this because he had once shaken hands with Donald Trump, and brushed up against the same type of watch. The difference however, was that it was exactly 4 milliseconds slow.

Silas bites his lip slightly, suffering a little bit of an obsessive compulsive attack, and glances down at the watch, then Warren, then the watch again, and asks, not wanting to intrude too much, "Erm...I don't mean to pry...but your watch is a bit slow....4 millliseconds because the cannon pinion probably is a bit sticky...er...do you mind if I just fix that? It won't take long at all, I've got tools in my bag...er, sorry about this, sometimes when something is broken, I'm just compelled to fix it. Part of my mutation I guess... At this, Silas begins to chuckle nervously, mostly at his own foolishness. I guess when you know how anything works and never forget, you're just compelled to make them right."

This is why his social life suffers.

[Warren Worthington III]

> " your watch is a bit slow....4 millliseconds because the cannon pinion probably is a bit sticky...er...do you mind if I just fix that? [..]I'm just compelled to fix it. Part of my mutation I guess[..] I guess when you know how anything works and never forget, you're just compelled to make them right."

Well… that answers the question about whether he’s a mutant, anyway, though it’s not incredibly helpful with respect to specifics. Some kind of mechanical intuition? "I guess it’s a good thing you aren’t specializing in politics, eh? A compulsion to make it right can take over your life, there. Anyway… sure, if you want..."

He slips the watch off his wrist and hands it to the new arrival, not without a certain amount of trepidation… it was his grandfather’s watch, and a gift for his 16th birthday, and Warren is somewhat protective of it. Which, given his lifestyle, normally means he doesn’t wear it at all, but he’d been feeling nostalgic this morning… he’s sold off a lot of his luxury stuff while adjusting to his new financial status, but this was one item he didn’t ever intend to sell, however valuable.

"Speaking of your mutation, though… what is it, exactly? Ororo was a little vague on the subject…"

[Silas Ambrose]

Silas chuckles slightly about the politics comment, despite him being a certified political analyst. He gingerly takes the watch and sets his bag down. From it, he pulls a small white sheet, a small tool kit, a pair of multiple-lens magnification glasses, and a small flashlight attatched to the glasses. Silas spreads out the sheet, sets the watch in the middle, puts on the glasses, turns on the light, and removes several delicate tools from the kit and begins to work on the watch. As he works, he begins his explanation.

"Well, at first, I had my doubts about actually being a mutant. I actually had to scan my own DNA to make sure, but I have an eidetic memory, and what I call innate capability..." The sheet begins to fill with several delicate parts of the watch, as Silas continues to remove pieces to reach the correct one. "...But I've had the memory bit my entire life...I don't forget anything. Every detail, color, scent, texture, number, ect since...two days after my birth. It was only a few years ago before the innate capability kicked in. Pretty much with any machine or tool I touch, I know how it works, and how to use it...not with people though, and with computers all I can do is hardware. Software is out of my jurisdiction...does that make sense to you, Mr. Worthington?"

By this point, Silas has found the correct piece, and used a small pair of tweezers to remove a small, almost unnoticable portrusion which turned out to be a small collection of dust. Once it is done, he re-assembles the watch rather quickly, but with an expert's touch. He turns off the light, removes the glasses, puts his tools away, and sets the watch to the exact time before handing it to Warren again with a slight smile, before packing away his things. "There you go. The exact time down to the last millisecond. After looking at it, if you keep it in good shape, it shouldn't need service again for at least a year or two."

[Warren Worthington III]

> " Software is out of my jurisdiction...does that make sense to you, Mr. Worthington?"

"Warren, please." He thinks about Silas’ explanation as he takes his watch back, and nods. " I suppose it makes sense enough… as much as psychic mutations ever do to me. One of our teachers is a psychometrist, you and he might find it interesting to compare notes. That’s quite a practical talent though! And eidetic memory as well… though of course that isn’t unheard of, even among baseline humans, although…" he pauses for a moment to work through the implications, then continues "…well, I suppose you must have an unusually potent version, judging from your CV… or is that just pure native intelligence?"

As he talks, he leads Silas upstairs to the teachers’ offices, wishing he had a better read on the guy. "So, I’m curious – what inspired you to become a teacher? With your credentials and your talent, there are many more lucrative fields you could be successful in… and with less work than teaching here is likely to require…?"

[Silas Ambrose]

>"Warren, please. I suppose it makes sense enough… as much as psychic mutations ever do to me. One of our teachers is a psychometrist, you and he might find it interesting to compare notes. That’s quite a practical talent though! And eidetic memory as well… though of course that isn’t unheard of, even among baseline humans, although…well, I suppose you must have an unusually potent version, judging from your CV… or is that just pure native intelligence?"

Silas follows Warren, all of his things back in their respective bags IN the duffel bag. He still carries his cap in his other hand, and chuckles slightly as he responds. "Potent doesn't even come close. Among baseline humans, the eidetic memory works only to an extent, typically developing in the teens, and even then, it has slight flaws. With mine, from day 2 of my life, every single detail is perfectly preserved. For instance, just outside, there was a flock of 17 birds that flew above the cab outside, which had a faded red leather interior which had been picked away slightly probably by both wearing of the years and a number of figety little children during a long cab ride, thus making the 23 various holes I did see, though there were possibly some underneath the seat which I chose not to investigate, each one varying in diameter from .7 cm to a full 3 inches, give or take a centimeter to make each hole a perfect circle, little indentations aside. And, to add- Silas stops, sighs, and apologizes quickly. "Sorry, I sometimes rant on about things when I think about them."

>"So, I’m curious – what inspired you to become a teacher? With your credentials and your talent, there are many more lucrative fields you could be successful in… and with less work than teaching here is likely to require…?"

Silas smiles again, almost sadly. "Warren, I'm flattered...but I realized two things back at Harvard. The first, was that if I stayed there, all I'd just stay there learning for the rest of my life. I'd die being a human encyclopedia, which essentially I am, but still, what kind of a life is that? That, and I do view myself as a fairly decent political analyst... At this, Silas' voice becomes a bit darker, and his smile fades slightly. "I think both you and I know how things on Capitol Hill may turn out. Certain bills will be proposed, and some may actually pass...no matter what, somehow and someway, there will be a point at which there is a public crusade against mutants...it could be small, or huge, but either way, I figured I should not keep isolating myself from others...and still inform some of the newer generations...Don't worry, I don't have any conspiracies, I've already proved enough of them to lose intrest. He smiles jokingly at the last bit, only semi-worried that the government had been monitoring him.

[Warren Worthington III]

> " Potent doesn't even come close. [..]Sorry, I sometimes rant on about things when I think about them."

Warren lets the litany of details about Silas’ cab ride flow past him, but he’s impressed at the level of detail – at least, if the guy isn’t just making it up, which Warren suspects he isn’t. It doesn’t sound like an unmixed blessing, but he knows better than to offer unsolicited sympathy for someone else’s mutation, especially a relative stranger. So he settles for laugh amiably at the final comment.

"Well, you’re certainly in good company as far as that goes. Lord knows I got more of a political education listening to Hank ranting about whatever was going on at the time than I ever did from anywhere else… though actually managing classes takes a bit more structure than that, usually. Especially with our kids – they’re a smart and motivated bunch, but not especially inclined to go with the flow." The fond smile that accompanies that last comment makes it clear that his sympathies, by and large, are with the students.

He frowns thoughtfully at the other man’s comments about the current political climate, nodding, and mentally awards him a point… it’s the best reason Warren can think of to teach here, the desire to make a difference while there’s still a chance to. It’s his own reason for taking up teaching, after all, and ever since his changed financial status forced him to curtail his traveling and public appearances, he’s been focusing more and more attention on it. "Yeah… I’d say that’s pretty good figuring on your part… I guess I spoke too soon about not fixing politics before, eh? Sorry."

Their walk has taken them upstairs, and Warren knocks on Jake’s office door. "Jake? Ororo? I’ve got Silas Ambrose with me, the new faculty applicant?"

[Ororo Munroe]

Ororo is rummaging through one of the filing cabinets in Jake’s office when the knock comes. Somewhere in the pile of crap disguising itself as file folders were the notes from their last faculty meeting. Things around the Institute were changing. There seemed to have been quite a lot of change in their faculty lineup in the last year or so. No more Scott, or Jean, or Charles… That had hugely impacted their mathematics and science programs (in the case of Scott and Jean) and well… everything else, in the case of Xavier. Ororo wasn’t sure what he wasn’t certified to teach, but he’d been the original instructor at the school, and once they’d had a larger core teaching group, had filled in any curriculum gaps with his vast array of knowledge.

She still felt odd teaching his ethics seminar. She’d taken it, what seemed like only a few years ago.

They'd lost Kurt, too. Now they had Toni teaching the sciences, as well. And with that came significantly more explosions than Jean’s version of chemistry… but Ororo wasn’t complaining. You couldn’t make her touch chemistry with a ten-foot pole. It looked like Columbia had cut a deal with Josh to do some student teaching for elective credit, so he was joining the ranks of the Institute’s faculty. How odd is that? He would be taking on some of Toni’s classes. Perhaps that will help her catch up on some of her own college work. Warren, too, was working out great as an instructor.

> "Jake? Ororo? I’ve got Silas Ambrose with me, the new faculty applicant?"

Startled, Ororo bangs her head on the filing cabinet she’s halfway in, and carefully disentangles herself from it. Jake, you have to clean up around here. She catches sight of the Cerebro model on top of the cabinet, and begins to grin. It quickly fades when she discovers someone has stripped the ‘Storm’ action figure’s uniform off. How rude.

Ororo quickly puts a pile of papers on it and turns to the door. “Come in - I’m not sure where Jake is right now, but I’ve been expecting him.”

Expecting? More like anticipating, probably comparable to Christmas Day. This Silas guy had about as many Ph.D.s as Professor Xavier - and way more mileage left on him. Barring any nasty accidents, she wouldn't be re-filling his position next year. With any luck, this interview would clinch the deal, and Hank would be free of epsilon-delta proofs and Taylor series. After all, DNA and politics were his first loves…

[Silas Ambrose]

As Warren lead the way into where Silas would meet his possible colleagues, he couldn't help but feel uneasy. But that came with his personality. No matter how much he knows, despite having all the facts, interviews are just plain frightening. These fears remain, despite stepping in to meet Ms. Ororo Munroe, who by all means was soft on the eyes. He smiles, and nods, "A pleasure to meet you, ma'am.

As he typically does, he looks around and essentially scans the room, the image being locked into his mind till Kingdom come. But, that is one of the reason Silas despises messes. With a mess, each time, everything is different, and he unwillingly memorizes every detail AGAIN because it could be slightly or vastly different. Never the case with a constantly-clean room. Everything nice, tidy, in order, and less annoying to be locked in his head. But nonetheless, he has to, and its done.

[Ororo Munroe]

Ororo smiles and puts out a hand to shake Silas’. “Good morning, I’m Ororo Munroe. I corresponded with you over email earlier last week. I appreciate you coming out here for the interview.” She gives a half glance to the hidden action figures.

“We should probably move into my office. Your file is over there, and…” She leaves the rest unsaid, but eyes a huge stack of books and magazines is sitting ponderously on one of the chairs in front of Jake’s desk. “Warren, if you wouldn’t mind joining us?” Ororo leads the way out of the office and into hers, situated across the hall.

She pushes the door open. The office itself is bright and airy. None of Jake’s clutter appears to have crept over. Ororo makes her way over to the window and opens the blinds, letting the sunlight stream in. Afterwards, she takes a seat behind her desk and puts on her glasses, looking closely across at Silas.

“Warren, you have a few minutes in your schedule, right?” Ororo glances over at a set of papers taped to her wall, and catches his nod. “Warren is a member of the faculty here, so he’ll be assisting me with the interview process. Our faculty is fairly small, so it’s important that we all get along - or can at least work professionally with one another.” She adds this last after an image of Logan flashes through her head.

Ororo sorts through the pile. “I have your history here, so no need to go over that.” She grins. “Ah, and your academic exploits. You were definitely the most impressive applicant in that sense.”

“But here’s a question - why do you want to work here? With your credentials, you could probably get a job just about anywhere. And teaching here requires a significantly different skillset than most institutions.” Like knowing exactly where all the fire extinguishers are, Ororo thinks, but neglects to add.

[Warren Worthington III]

Warren follows Ororo and Silas into her office without comment, though he allows himself a small smile when the first question out of her mouth is the one he just got finished answering.

Not that that’s any surprise, really; it’s the most obvious question when someone with these sorts of credentials wants to teach here. More broadly, though, it’s a good question to keep asking about all of their staff, and the answers people give are only the beginning of the process. The government has clearly started thinking of mutants as both a potential threat and a potential asset; if they haven’t already planted an agent or two in the faculty, they can’t be very far away from doing so… possibly just to observe, possibly to manipulate.

Warren is pretty sure Xavier kept that sort of infiltration at bay by telepathically screening applicants, though nobody talks about that – either way, though, that option is no longer available. Sure, Sheppard could probably do it, but not so subtly as to avoid notice, and Warren doesn’t want to think about what the Institute could become once the headmaster’s office becomes generally known as literal Thought Police. So, they have to screen candidates the old-fashioned way, and part of that is to find ways of asking the same question over and over to find discrepancies in their answers, without being so obvious as to be insulting.

Besides which, he suspects that Silas’ answer to him only scratched the surface of the guy’s real motivations… he seems to Warren to be one of those people who always has several different reasons for doing what he does.