leah_allen (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} leah_allen) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} free_form2,@ 2008-05-06 18:47:00 |
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Chaos vs. Order
At least the room was bigger.
Much bigger then the cells. Along one side, high up above, near the ceiling, was lined a one-way mirror, angled in such a way as to give a panoramic view of all which laid below. The chairs and table, made out of what looked and felt like stainless steel, were bolted to the floor. A few minutes prior, the prisoner had been brought in, cuffed in plastic restraints around wrists and made to sit there. Small, ball-shaped cameras were embedded at each highest point of the four corners of that location, looking down, constantly monitoring. Not just in one visual spectrum, either, but multiple. Everything about the creature was being observed and logged for later examination.
And she was dying. Or so it seemed... As the weeks went on, so the prisoner seem to become less and less energetic.
Nevertheless, the sudden clang of that door unlocking, was almost enough to wake the dead. While armed guards remained posted outside, in stepped an immaculate walking suit of a man, neither particularly old nor overly young. Everything about him seemed to radiate 'government'. A man who, once the door was closed, approached that table with a file, placed it down and took his own seat. An observant, "Hm," was made and the brief's contents were opened with a click.
"Miss Anderson... Or perhaps we should begin with a more truthful, 'Allen'?"
Leah raised her head and stared with a dull, listless expression. She hadn't paid much attention to the guards as they'd moved her from her cell, Homeland Security clearly knew enough about her to have female guards that looked like Russian wrestling champs move her rather than males out of GQ . There had been no opportunity to feed since they'd taken her from the cops weeks ago, and the hybrid was beyond hungry.
Still...something held her back from trying to pump the air full of her scent and drain the agent into a empty shell. There was enough intelligence left behind those eyes to know that if she tried she'd probably sign her own death warrant.
A flicker of surprise crossed her face at the mention of her real name, but she stayed silent. Waiting.
Let them do the talking for now, she didn't feel like she had the energy.
The file was flipped open to the first contents page, then to another and another. The motions slow and casual. "I find that with formality comes trust, Miss Allen," he continued, monotonous and self-assured. "For trust should be an unbreakable bond between citizen and government... This is the way the system works, Miss Allen. It provides security, maintains order and ensures peace and prosperity for all. In return, you enjoy the benefits of a relatively free society, help to create personal wealth through the timeless ideal of Capitalism and pay your taxes..."
The pages came to some particularly large photographs of Leah in the company of young men. The word 'DECEASED' could be clearly seen, printed by the personnel details of each on. Perhaps a deliberate decision, perhaps not.
"The system fails when a citizen fails in their duties. This breeds chaos, Miss Allen... Rules are broken. Authority is dismissed. The only way to restore it, is often with violence. A sad and lamentable situation, Miss Allen. One we strive to avoid. And all it takes, Miss Allen, is trust... A lofty and noble ideal. An ideal, indeed, which saves lives."
Clasping hands together, the man leaned forth, placing elbows upon that same steel table. There was now silence. Impenetrable. All-encompassing. Something in his power to end.
"You face two choices, Miss Allen... I'd like to believe you can be rehabilitated. That you have the strength of character and moral integrity to show us... Trust."
The photographs were another surprise to the young hybrid. How long had they been watching her? Leah watched wordlessly as the agent flipped through page by page. Besides the surprise though, the pictures reinforced the deep, ravenous hunger that ate away at her. If she didn't feed soon she'd starve to death, and her good judgment at not trying to drain the Agent would only last so long before the hunger overrode it.
"Wh-" she croaked, then stopped and licked her lips to try again. It had been weeks since she'd talked to anyone. "What is it you want with me? I want to call my lawyer."
Marie could fix this. Marie could get her out of jail and into a different city, and she could start over. All she had to do was get to a phone and call the lawyer.
"There are no lawyers, Miss Allen," the man replied, taking the opportunity to rise silently to feet. "None who can help you. At this precise moment, you are persona non grata... You do not exist, just as, officially, your status known to us does not exist. There will be no civil court of law for you, because no such rules exist to properly acknowledge your physiology, much less cover the true nature of your crimes. To allow you access to such mechanisms, would be to introduce an... Unstable element into society."
A pause.
"The Federal government take a dim view of unstable elements, Miss Allen. One of the magnitude which you represent, to put it mildly, could not be tolerated... And yet, we are civil. We are human, whereas you are, as best as our geneticists can make out, only half. Therefore, approximately 50% of you falls under our jurisdiction."
He had made a slow walk towards the mirrored glass, one arm held up at chest. although turned away from her, there was the distinct impression that no sudden movement would go unnoticed. Not that she would be able to easily do such, considering her restraints.
"Your pheromones will have no effect upon me, Miss Allen," came his casual mention. "Needless to say, we have access to a great deal of resources; many of which are well beyond your comprehension." With that, body turned squarely, facing her with that same dispassionate look. "How do you look upon me, Miss Allen? Predator or prey? A source of fuel?" Eyebrow lifted. "Or just a barrier to be broken? An symbolic authority to be defied?" Eyebrow lowered, bringing back into play that seemingly eternal stern expression. "You hold great potential, Miss Allen... Yet, you lack direction. Something which gave rise to the wasting of human life... We could give you things, Miss Allen. Give you nourishment, focus and meaning... Things which, I believe, you all but signed over fully to an operative of Wolfram and Hart. All we ask for is trust, Miss Allen... Trust enough to train you. Trust enough to give you a... Sense of community. To put it bluntly, Miss Allen, we'd very much like to welcome you aboard as a member of the team."
A situation presented. An opportunity granted. How would she answer?
"My colleagues, Miss Allen, think I'm making a mistake. Some even look upon you as little more than demonic primate with unexpected benefits. I, however, prefer to entertain the notion that you can prove them wrong."
How did she look at him? The hungry stare in her eyes should be answer enough for that question. With a body like that, she was predator watching prey definitely. Would her pheromones truly not work on him or was he bluffing? There was only one way to find out but she was still smart enough to hold back on the impulse.
She wasn't sure she could trust them. Leah was hearing a lot of words but she was still dressed in prison garb, with plastic restraints around her wrists. The hybrid wanted her life back, and she wanted to follow up and see what followers she still had left from the school. She missed her apartment, her clothes, the clubs, and even her roommate.
Right now she'd kill for a little friendly communication with someone she knew.
"Prove it," the hybrid told him after a few minutes contemplation. "I want out of these cuffs," she indicated, wiggling her fingers behind her back. "And I'm...starving." The way she stared hungrily at him could leave little doubt what kind of starvation she meant. "If you really want me on your team, you'll do that up front before I agree to anything."
The man looked up to the mirror and, were Leah's hearing sensitive enough to pick it up, the hints of something being said into the electronic earpiece might have been detected. The next thing she knew, the door opened and those two armed guards came in, undoing the girl's restraints, while the Agent stood by and watched. They made sure to have her stand in such a way as to make any potential retaliation difficult to execute and, finally, the deed was done.
"Trust," the Agent reiterated with a formal smile.
A nod was made to the two guards and they retreated out the door, only to be replaced by a clearly violent young male, restrained on a gurney like some latter-day Hannibal Lector. Hatred burned in his eyes, but speech was made impossible. Technical assistants wheeled him in and Leah's interviewer readied himself to follow them out, likewise.
"A far less co-operative gentleman, scheduled for termination. Completely unsuitable for rehabilitation... In fact, without the correct medication, he'd be quite willing to incinerate the entire facility, quickly followed by the nearest civilians he can find. Possession by astral disincarnates can be a... Troubling issue. We would, however, be quite interested in performing an autopsy, Miss Allen. Think of this as a mutual service between us."
One last look was passed the young man's way and the elder glanced back to Leah again. The door about to be closed, once he was gone.
"Agent Fowler," he finally introduced. "Enjoy your meal..."
At least the room was bigger.
Much bigger then the cells. Along one side, high up above, near the ceiling, was lined a one-way mirror, angled in such a way as to give a panoramic view of all which laid below. The chairs and table, made out of what looked and felt like stainless steel, were bolted to the floor. A few minutes prior, the prisoner had been brought in, cuffed in plastic restraints around wrists and made to sit there. Small, ball-shaped cameras were embedded at each highest point of the four corners of that location, looking down, constantly monitoring. Not just in one visual spectrum, either, but multiple. Everything about the creature was being observed and logged for later examination.
And she was dying. Or so it seemed... As the weeks went on, so the prisoner seem to become less and less energetic.
Nevertheless, the sudden clang of that door unlocking, was almost enough to wake the dead. While armed guards remained posted outside, in stepped an immaculate walking suit of a man, neither particularly old nor overly young. Everything about him seemed to radiate 'government'. A man who, once the door was closed, approached that table with a file, placed it down and took his own seat. An observant, "Hm," was made and the brief's contents were opened with a click.
"Miss Anderson... Or perhaps we should begin with a more truthful, 'Allen'?"
Leah raised her head and stared with a dull, listless expression. She hadn't paid much attention to the guards as they'd moved her from her cell, Homeland Security clearly knew enough about her to have female guards that looked like Russian wrestling champs move her rather than males out of GQ . There had been no opportunity to feed since they'd taken her from the cops weeks ago, and the hybrid was beyond hungry.
Still...something held her back from trying to pump the air full of her scent and drain the agent into a empty shell. There was enough intelligence left behind those eyes to know that if she tried she'd probably sign her own death warrant.
A flicker of surprise crossed her face at the mention of her real name, but she stayed silent. Waiting.
Let them do the talking for now, she didn't feel like she had the energy.
The file was flipped open to the first contents page, then to another and another. The motions slow and casual. "I find that with formality comes trust, Miss Allen," he continued, monotonous and self-assured. "For trust should be an unbreakable bond between citizen and government... This is the way the system works, Miss Allen. It provides security, maintains order and ensures peace and prosperity for all. In return, you enjoy the benefits of a relatively free society, help to create personal wealth through the timeless ideal of Capitalism and pay your taxes..."
The pages came to some particularly large photographs of Leah in the company of young men. The word 'DECEASED' could be clearly seen, printed by the personnel details of each on. Perhaps a deliberate decision, perhaps not.
"The system fails when a citizen fails in their duties. This breeds chaos, Miss Allen... Rules are broken. Authority is dismissed. The only way to restore it, is often with violence. A sad and lamentable situation, Miss Allen. One we strive to avoid. And all it takes, Miss Allen, is trust... A lofty and noble ideal. An ideal, indeed, which saves lives."
Clasping hands together, the man leaned forth, placing elbows upon that same steel table. There was now silence. Impenetrable. All-encompassing. Something in his power to end.
"You face two choices, Miss Allen... I'd like to believe you can be rehabilitated. That you have the strength of character and moral integrity to show us... Trust."
The photographs were another surprise to the young hybrid. How long had they been watching her? Leah watched wordlessly as the agent flipped through page by page. Besides the surprise though, the pictures reinforced the deep, ravenous hunger that ate away at her. If she didn't feed soon she'd starve to death, and her good judgment at not trying to drain the Agent would only last so long before the hunger overrode it.
"Wh-" she croaked, then stopped and licked her lips to try again. It had been weeks since she'd talked to anyone. "What is it you want with me? I want to call my lawyer."
Marie could fix this. Marie could get her out of jail and into a different city, and she could start over. All she had to do was get to a phone and call the lawyer.
"There are no lawyers, Miss Allen," the man replied, taking the opportunity to rise silently to feet. "None who can help you. At this precise moment, you are persona non grata... You do not exist, just as, officially, your status known to us does not exist. There will be no civil court of law for you, because no such rules exist to properly acknowledge your physiology, much less cover the true nature of your crimes. To allow you access to such mechanisms, would be to introduce an... Unstable element into society."
A pause.
"The Federal government take a dim view of unstable elements, Miss Allen. One of the magnitude which you represent, to put it mildly, could not be tolerated... And yet, we are civil. We are human, whereas you are, as best as our geneticists can make out, only half. Therefore, approximately 50% of you falls under our jurisdiction."
He had made a slow walk towards the mirrored glass, one arm held up at chest. although turned away from her, there was the distinct impression that no sudden movement would go unnoticed. Not that she would be able to easily do such, considering her restraints.
"Your pheromones will have no effect upon me, Miss Allen," came his casual mention. "Needless to say, we have access to a great deal of resources; many of which are well beyond your comprehension." With that, body turned squarely, facing her with that same dispassionate look. "How do you look upon me, Miss Allen? Predator or prey? A source of fuel?" Eyebrow lifted. "Or just a barrier to be broken? An symbolic authority to be defied?" Eyebrow lowered, bringing back into play that seemingly eternal stern expression. "You hold great potential, Miss Allen... Yet, you lack direction. Something which gave rise to the wasting of human life... We could give you things, Miss Allen. Give you nourishment, focus and meaning... Things which, I believe, you all but signed over fully to an operative of Wolfram and Hart. All we ask for is trust, Miss Allen... Trust enough to train you. Trust enough to give you a... Sense of community. To put it bluntly, Miss Allen, we'd very much like to welcome you aboard as a member of the team."
A situation presented. An opportunity granted. How would she answer?
"My colleagues, Miss Allen, think I'm making a mistake. Some even look upon you as little more than demonic primate with unexpected benefits. I, however, prefer to entertain the notion that you can prove them wrong."
How did she look at him? The hungry stare in her eyes should be answer enough for that question. With a body like that, she was predator watching prey definitely. Would her pheromones truly not work on him or was he bluffing? There was only one way to find out but she was still smart enough to hold back on the impulse.
She wasn't sure she could trust them. Leah was hearing a lot of words but she was still dressed in prison garb, with plastic restraints around her wrists. The hybrid wanted her life back, and she wanted to follow up and see what followers she still had left from the school. She missed her apartment, her clothes, the clubs, and even her roommate.
Right now she'd kill for a little friendly communication with someone she knew.
"Prove it," the hybrid told him after a few minutes contemplation. "I want out of these cuffs," she indicated, wiggling her fingers behind her back. "And I'm...starving." The way she stared hungrily at him could leave little doubt what kind of starvation she meant. "If you really want me on your team, you'll do that up front before I agree to anything."
The man looked up to the mirror and, were Leah's hearing sensitive enough to pick it up, the hints of something being said into the electronic earpiece might have been detected. The next thing she knew, the door opened and those two armed guards came in, undoing the girl's restraints, while the Agent stood by and watched. They made sure to have her stand in such a way as to make any potential retaliation difficult to execute and, finally, the deed was done.
"Trust," the Agent reiterated with a formal smile.
A nod was made to the two guards and they retreated out the door, only to be replaced by a clearly violent young male, restrained on a gurney like some latter-day Hannibal Lector. Hatred burned in his eyes, but speech was made impossible. Technical assistants wheeled him in and Leah's interviewer readied himself to follow them out, likewise.
"A far less co-operative gentleman, scheduled for termination. Completely unsuitable for rehabilitation... In fact, without the correct medication, he'd be quite willing to incinerate the entire facility, quickly followed by the nearest civilians he can find. Possession by astral disincarnates can be a... Troubling issue. We would, however, be quite interested in performing an autopsy, Miss Allen. Think of this as a mutual service between us."
One last look was passed the young man's way and the elder glanced back to Leah again. The door about to be closed, once he was gone.
"Agent Fowler," he finally introduced. "Enjoy your meal..."