Christian Rouse (modernpinocchio) wrote in savingthegames, @ 2014-10-13 20:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | christian rouse, siobhan nolan |
Who: Christian and Siobhan
What: Trying to make the puppet a real boy
When: Tuesday, Oct.13, business hours
Where: Siobhan's office
Warnings: none?
Status: complete
It was true that Christian was done pitying himself, he was even far beyond the notion. That didn't mean the things that caused him to pity before were done with him. He had been staying with Lora and he'd gone to see Vance and explained himself and now he was here... walking into an office building full of the people who he was afraid of. These were the people who took powered things like Christian to labs where they were poked and prodded and labeled and then, in his case, ushered on to be experimented on. He was afraid of the tier system. Afraid that he would be that highest tier and considered a danger. He didn't know what they did to people who were thought of that way but he didn't want to be considered a danger no matter what.
Vance was someone that Christian really felt he should trust and if he said this woman he was going to see could be trusted too he'd just have to believe it. It was true that he probably should have gone and seen Alice instead. The Wonderlands took him in and kept him safe when no one else would take him, when he was nothing but a nameless faceless number in the crowd avoiding being caught in the crunch. Something kept him away, though. It was that same something that brought him instead to Vance.
Maybe it was true that in the few hours he knew Atlas he had come to trust him and depend on him more than anyone in the Wonderlands no matter how many months he'd been there. The self proclaimed heroes were good to him and they were nice but they weren't Atlas, a true hero that sparkled along the edges like light on the frost.
He kept his head down as he walked through the halls towards the office he'd discovered through the signs and Vance's advice. His puppet was clenched by his hand in his pocket, a comfort even though for now it had no life in its silken veins. Then her door was in front of him. He raised his free hand and knocked, waiting to be told he could come in before turning the knob and pushing it open. He tried to adopt his most 'together' appearance as he crossed the threshold into her domain, the governments playpen, and he prayed to God that he hadn't been steered wrong.