[Per+Awareness]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
Dr. KellerWhen Alexander wakes up, he's in a white room. His eyes are slow to blink open. There's a lingering heaviness in his eyelids and a dull throb of pain in his head. That pain spikes when the light hits his vision, stark and clinical-bright. It takes a moment to adjust before he can really take in his situation. A cursory inspection of his body will reveal that he is largely unharmed. There's a couple of sore places on his hip and shoulder - bruises from... what?
He can remember the room in the precinct. Agent Paul Weston - if that's even really his name. The struggle. Firing his gun.
He must have fallen.
The place where the dart his his calf is also sore, but it's not much worse than one might expect from a vaccination.
He still feels a little groggy. A little disconnected. But he has free range of movement again, and his mental capacities don't feel as though they're hindered. Once he's able to look around without squinting, the details of the room become clearer. He's lying on a cot that's been folded out from the wall. There's a simple white pillow under his head. His police clothes have been replaced with what looks like a beige prison uniform. His gun and holster are gone. So is his cell phone. His wallet. His keys. The room is small and plain and mostly empty. Across from him lies a sturdy-looking metal door, a white table that's been bolted into the floor and two fold-out chairs. There are no windows in the room, and no clock by which to determine what time of day it is.
Sitting in one of the chairs, on the opposite side of the table, is an austere-looking bald man in his early fifties. He isn't dressed in a suit the way that Weston was. Instead, he registers more like a college professor in slacks, a white button-down and a dark green sweater. He's reading through something on a clip-board, making notes with a red pen as he goes. When he sees Alexander looking at him, he sets the clipboard down, smiles and says "Good morning, Officer Brandt."
This man, who Alexander has never seen before, is not attempting to hide his nature the way that Weston was. (Perhaps he's determined there's no need.) So Alex will feel the strength of his resonance almost immediately. There's a potency to it that he hasn't felt with anyone before - not even Victoria. In fact, that is part of how it feels: Potent. Incisive (cutting, sharp, efficient.) With a lingering aftertaste of Reflection.
"When you're ready, would you care to have a seat?"
AlexanderThe climb from unconsciousness, through that fuzzy middle ground between sleep and wakefulness, into consciousness is hard. The remnants of whatever drug had been running through Alexander’s body hadn’t quite cleared, so it’s not an immediate thing that he realises that things aren’t right. He reaches a hand up to his head before he even tries to open his eyes, rubbing it. God, it felt like the mother of all hangovers…
The bed, though. It wasn’t his bed. And why did that seem important right now? The hand that had been rubbing his head moves down and runs over the pillow and the surface of the cot. Nope, not familiar. The first attempt at opening his eyes elicits a brief groan as his body objects to the intensity of the light. He tries again, slower this time and with a hand providing a little protection from the light. One eye, then the other. Alexander blinks several times, clearing his vision until things come back into focus. He takes in the clothes, looking around to see if his uniform was in a pile somewhere nearby.
Yeah, my uniform. Memory was returning, including what had happened in the last few moments before he lost consciousness. Memories that trigger a physical response, his heart rate quickening and the adrenaline dumped into his blood stream firing up the age-old response fight or flight. The lack of windows and the state of the door make flight unlikely.
Good morning, Officer Brandt.
Alexander studies the man, as he is offered a seat. The man is powerful, that music is obvious. But one thing that Alexander has learned is that, essentially, they are all still flesh and blood. Alexander is also a man who doesn’t like to be messed around with. And, now that memory of... whenever the hell that was had returned, his patience is running at empty. So rather than taking a seat, the other response kicks in. Alexander charges the man, screaming, and takes a swing.
Dr. Keller[Keller Initiative +7]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (10) ( success x 1 )
Alexander[Init +6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )
Dr. Keller[Guards outside +5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (10) ( success x 1 )
Dr. KellerOrder:
Keller - 17
Guards - 16
Alex - 12
Dr. Keller[guards - 15, rather]
Alexander[Split: Close with Keller. Punch Keller]
Dr. Keller[Guards: Enter room with guns drawn]
Dr. Keller[Keller rolls an effect: Mind 4 (STOP) - base diff 6 (Alex's WP) -2 (resonance: potent) -1 (personal instrument)]
Dice: 5 d10 TN3 (1, 4, 6, 6, 7) ( success x 4 )
Alexander[I'd really rather not. WP]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 10) ( success x 3 )
Dr. Keller[Alex manages to push through the mental command and keep going, but he loses his turn in the process]
Dr. KellerIt happens very quickly, but despite his calm air the man seated at the table does not react to Alexander's sudden assault with any visible surprise. Instead he looks at Alex and shouts, in a sharp, commanding tone: "Stop!"
And for a brief, agonizing moment, that command echoes in Alexander's head like a hammer, slowing his limbs and freezing his thoughts. He stops shouting. Stops moving. Part of him wants nothing more than to submit to that command.
But another part of him - a stronger part - knows that he's being manipulated and pushes through the impulse with every last ounce of Will. Then he finds his feet will move again and his voice returns to his lungs - less steady but still his own.
The delay gives the guards outside time to unlock the door and rush in, guns held at the ready. There are two of them, dressed in black combat uniforms: a man and a woman. Neither of them resonate the way the bald man does, but their guns are still quite capable of killing.
They don't shoot, though. Not yet. They're waiting for a signal.
AlexanderAlex knows that he’s dead. This has got to be Union, and from what the others have told him about people who attract their attention? He’s dead. Or, at least, will be soon. Or better off dead. Or…
He does the only thing that… it’s not thought that drives him, more hormone-driven instinct. The lizard part of his brain high on adrenaline elbowing conscious thought out of the way and driving him forward towards the fight. The man tells him to stop and, god, it would be so easy to just stop right there. But then the other part of his mind, the part that’s shadowed by his survival instincts take over, steps forward and pushes back against the urge. It’s not what he wants, he will not be forced into it. The battle is enough to slow him, though. There is no contact between him and this man.
Alexander glances round at the sounds by the door. It’s open. There are people there, and some part of him registers that they have weapons aimed at him. But it’s a way out and, right now, getting away is all that matters.
[Tackle one of the guards, hopefully out the door.]
Alexander[Odds we tackle the man, evens the woman]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )
Dr. Keller[Male guard shoots Alex in the knee (targeted shot)]
Dr. Keller[Female guard tackles Alex]
Dr. Keller[Keller tries this Mind magick stuff again. Will extend if he needs to. Mind 4, base diff 6 -2 -1]
Dice: 5 d10 TN3 (1, 4, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 5 ) [WP]
Dr. Keller[He's going to extend next turn, so no effect yet this round.]
Dr. Keller[Female guard tackles: Dex+Brawl, diff 7]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (4, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8) ( success x 4 )
Dr. Keller[Dex+Athletics not to fall]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 4, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 3 )
Alexander[C'mon dice roller! Dex+Ath to stay up]
Dice: 6 d10 TN10 (5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 2 )
Dr. Keller[Str+3 (successes)]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 7, 7, 8) ( success x 3 )
Alexander[Soak?]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 6, 8) ( success x 2 )
Dr. Keller[And Alex takes 1B]
Dr. Keller[Male guard rolls to shoot: Dex+Firearms, diff 8 for small target]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 10) ( success x 2 )
Dr. Keller[gah, that's 1 success]
Dr. Keller[base damage 5 (Biggs X-5) +2 (targeted shot)]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 6, 6, 8, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 6 )
Dr. Keller[DICE THAT WAS TOO MANY SUCCESSES]
Dr. KellerIt isn't altogether uncommon, really. Guards get scared and use excessive force. It happens in the police department a lot more often than they'd like to admit. Perhaps at some point, after Alex wakes up later, he'll have a moment to find that vaguely reassuring: that the soldiers of the Technocratic Union are capable of making those kinds of human errors.
Then again, when those errors result in him getting his knee blown off, there probably isn't much there to be reassured by.
But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Alex rushes the guard standing in front of the open door, but before he can reach the man, the second guard cuts him off, slamming into him from the side with such force that it nearly knocks him over. He keeps his balance though, somehow. There are places where the impact bruised him but it isn't anything that'll slow him down.
The second guard is another story. He sees Alexander coming, aims his gun at Alex's knee and fires.
The blast does something. Alexander feels this sharp blossom of shredding agony, bright and hot and then strangely numb. He hits the floor and he can feel blood spurting and pooling around him.
He blacks out again. It's the second time in as many days.
Later, the guard who shot him gets reassigned.
---
Time passes. He doesn't know how much. But eventually he wakes up again. He isn't in the white room anymore. This time he's strapped down to a hospital bed inside a room with solid metal walls. There's an IV drip in his arm and a machine beeping quietly in the background. There's a blanket tucked over him, so he can't make out what the full extent of the damage was but he can still feel both of his legs. Can still (sort of) move them against the restrictive hold of the leather restraints. It doesn't even hurt. In fact, nothing hurts. He feels fine. Groggy and probably scared, but physically... okay.
He has no idea what day it is.
Looking around, there's a small alcove in the room with a sink and a toilet, but nothing else. The only furniture is his bed, which seems to have been wheeled in temporarily. It feels even more like a cell than the last room did.
In more ways than one. The air around him feels... almost too clean. Too... static. Like something is sucking all of the magick out of it. The sensation feels even more oppressive than the restraints on his body. Like he is... trapped, powerless, smothered.
The door opens and shuts, and the bald man from the white room approaches the side of the bed. He's wearing a grey sweater this time.
"Are you going to let me speak this time?"
AlexanderNot for the first time in however long he’s been here for, unconsciousness seemed like a blessing. A blessing that took away the pain of whatever the shot had done to his knee. A blessing that took away the terror that simply losing control and being held in this place invoked. A blessing that, unfortunately, wasn’t to last.
Consciousness returns, and it’s not a welcome thing. There is, at least, no pain. Alex experimentally moves his leg, as far at the restraints will let him. And then he pulls at them, fighting against them, trying to break free.
Apparently, Alexander isn’t the first person these people have held and he gets, precisely, nowhere.
The fight worked out of him, at least for the moment, he slumps back onto the bed and looks around the room. It’s even more oppressive than the white one had been, and he had the sinking feeling that he was going to be spending a lot of time here.
Fuck.
The same man as… earlier? Whenever the hell that had been. Anyway, the man was back. Alex’s head lifts at the sound of the door opening and closing, but it slumps back down again as soon as the man is recognised.
Are you going to let me speak this time?
Alexander sighs, but doesn’t turn to look at the man when he speaks. He does have a question, though.
“Why aren’t I dead?”
Dr. KellerThe man regards him quietly. Alex doesn't meet his gaze, so he doesn't make out the nuance of his expression (if there even is anything there to see.)
"Is there a reason you should be?" The man counters, his tone thoughtful. "I suspect by now you've worked out something of where you are, judging by your behavior. But whatever it is you think you know, I can assure you that you do not have the full picture." He pauses a beat, resting one hand on the rail at the edge of the bed.
"To answer your question: one, because you have information that will help us. And two, because we only kill when we have to. I have yet to determine how great of a threat you present. Though I am sure if you are especially determined, you may yet succeed at killing yourself. Personally I would prefer we come to a more equitable arrangement, but that really depends on you."
AlexanderIs there a reason you should be?
Alex snorts, but his position doesn’t change. Whatever there is making up the ceiling in his current room, it appears to be quite interesting. “You mean the people you take an interest in don’t mysteriously vanish, never to be seen again? Oh, no! Wait! That’s what’s happened to me. His voices gets louder, dripping with sarcasm by the end of the statement. Alex closes his eyes, but still listens.
He listens, and then sits up and strains against the restraints. Alex looks at the man, meeting his gaze at last, and continues shouting. “Threat?! You drug me, abduct me, fucking shoot me, and you think I’m the threat? And now you’re telling me this is all my fault! Let me guess, the waterboarding and thumbscrews or whatever else you twisted fucks have is going to be all for my own good, right? Are you fucking kidding me?”
Dr. KellerThe man lets him shout. Strapped to a bed and behind an enclosed perimeter of what feels like anti-magick, there isn't much that Alex can do, and of course his captors know that. One has to wonder if this man, with all his studied cool, is even capable of being flustered.
He certainly doesn't seem like it when Alex makes eye contact. Instead he watches Alex with an incisive gaze, as though he were an animal in a lab experiment.
"The man who brought you in believed you were protecting a Nephandus. Is there some alternate version of events where you would have come here and spoken with us willingly? Because given what I've seen of you so far, I don't really see that working out. More to the point... "
The man leans down over the bed - mindful of course of the amount of leeway with which Alex might be able to reach him. He doesn't get within biting or head-butting distance, but he does get close enough that if Alex keeps shouting, the force of it will ring in his eardrums.
Unsurprisingly, the restraints refuse to budge despite Alex's efforts. He'd need a lot more force than he's capable of expending physically to break them.
"... Your very existence is a threat. Not just to us, but to the scores of innocent people who live in this city and expect when they wake up in the morning that their reality will continue to operate as it should. That monsters will not leap out of the shadows to hunt them. That some old witch on a street corner will not have the power to destroy their lives on a whim. That scientific constants like time and gravity will not suddenly cease to function.
"So you can keep shouting, Alexander. And you can continue to be personally affronted that we value the safety and security of the many over the comfort of the few. But none of that will help you right now. And it will be, at best, a mild inconvenience to me. Or you can calm down and cooperate, and maybe you'll be able to go home."
AlexanderAlex listens. Of all the reactions this man might be expecting, it may be the least likely that he actually gets.
Laughter.
It’s desperate, but it’s definitely laughter. “Oh, you stupid fucking idiot. You have no idea, do you? Where were you when the Fallen murderer came to the city? Where were you when the mad Hermetic came to town with her little group of cannibals? Oh, that’s right! Nowhere! And if the other Awakened in the city hadn’t stopped them, they’d still be running around. Oh! And imagine! They managed to do it all without drugging, kidnapping, or generally being complete fucking dicks!” The laughter had stopped by the end and the shouting had started again.
Alex slumps back on the bed again, but keeps looking at the man. If there’s a sensation that the guy doesn’t like it, well… Whatever little victory he can win right now, he’ll go for. He speaks, but the anger has faded away for the moment. Now there’s more… resignation.
“I’m no threat, to you or anyone else. But then you’d know that if you actually bothered to find out! But, hey, the ends justify the means, right? What’s a few dead freaks, who might actually have done more good if you left them alone? And who cares about the people that get left behind when people disappear. It’s not like they matter, right?”
Alexander had already had doubts about his future. Doubts around what happens when the shades of grey get too indistinguishable, when you step into the black without realising how far you’ve gone. In the short time that this man has been explaining the Union’s position, it already sounds as if they’re the very personification of that fear.
Alexander sighs again, head straightening on the pillow. “You’re the fucking threat, and the saddest part is that you just don’t know it.”
Finally, quietly, he finishes speaking. “I won’t cooperate.”
Dr. KellerThe man (he still hasn't offered a name) takes in Alexander's response with an expression that is - frustratingly - unreadable. After a moment he straightens and steps away from the bed.
"As you wish."
He glances at the door and makes a gesture for someone to enter - though there isn't any window there. Likely the room is wired with hidden cameras. A moment later a handful of guards enter and take hold of Alexander's bed. Following them, a woman in a white medical coat strides in and checks the machine that Alexander seems to have been hooked up to. Without saying anything, she reaches over and moves to carefully disconnect the IV from his arm. If he struggles, he may end up bleeding a little, but either way they get him unhooked.
Then the guards start to roll his bed out of the room. It barely fits through the door. If Alex continues to shout, he is ignored.
They exit into a long white hallway and pass by a couple of unmarked doors secured by expensive-looking high-tech locks. At the end of the hall they pass through another door and enter another, similar hallway. Finally they turn and enter what looks to be the same white room he was in previously, complete with the bolted table and folding chairs - though the cot has since been folded back into the wall.
Why they felt they had to move him is unclear. But once they're situated the guards file out and shut the door, leaving Alexander alone with his interrogator.
The man stops at the side of the bed and regards Alex contemplatively. "For what it's worth, I would have preferred to do this differently."
Maybe Alex is looking at him at this point. If he is, then he'll see something move inside the man's eye - a shift and turn of the iris and then a stark pin-point of white light drowning out the pupil. If he doesn't look, then he won't have any further warning that something is about to happen.
(It doesn't matter either way. Eye contact helps, but it isn't necessary.)
AlexanderThe shouting has ended. The struggling has ended. Whatever happens around Alex for the next few minutes happens without struggle or much of a response. There’s maybe a slight wince as the IV is disconnected, but that’s about it. It’s clear that, at least right now, his chances of escaping are circling somewhere around ‘zip, zero, zilch, do not pass Go, do not collect $200’. It’s, maybe, time to try to save some energy and try again later.
For what it’s worth, I would have preferred to do this differently.
Alex doesn’t look at the man, but continues to lie there with his eyes closed. He does have a quiet response, though. “Just remember, it’s your choice to do this. Not mine. Remember that when you’re kicking some puppies for fun later.”
Then, for what it’s worth, Alex tries to find that point of stillness in his mind. If he can’t do anything to resist physically, then all he can do it resist mentally. Not that he has much of an idea of exactly how, but there’s nothing quite like learning on the job. His breathing deepens and slows as whatever will happen will happen.
Alexander[Ommmm! Or something. Int+Med]
Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 2, 6) ( botch x 1 )
Dr. Keller[Alex, for all his efforts, is unable to focus his mind. On the contrary, feelings of panic and hopelessness are beginning to seep in. He is captured. Powerless. And whatever fate awaits him, it will not be anything short of a nightmare. Perhaps a quick death would be preferable, given the alternatives.
-1 temporary WP]
Dr. Keller[Keller activates Mind-reading and telepathy powers. Mind 3, base diff 6 -2 (incisive) -1 (unique instrument - psychic implant)]
Dice: 5 d10 TN3 (1, 3, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 5 ) [WP]
Dr. KellerIt feels almost inexorable, really. Alex tries to center himself. Tries to do what little he can to protect his mind. He has no knowledge of this Sphere. No real ability to shield his thoughts. Even if he did, what hope did he really have against someone as powerful as this Technocrat?
(The man hasn't confirmed that designation, but does he really need to? What else could he be?)
There is a moment perhaps, before the guards close the door and leave him alone with the man in this quiet room, when Alex thinks he may be able to handle this. But he is wrong - because he is human.
And then the Technocrat's Will washes over him again, pushing into his mind and his thoughts like an enveloping wave. There is an urge - hypnotic and almost irresistible - to look at him. To meet that white light in his eye and just hold there, staring. Like a deer in headlights, watching a car come barreling towards it.
And what does he look for, this man? One thing: Leah. The way he pushes is careful and precise. He doesn't churn through Alexander's thoughts carelessly, tossing the useless ones aside. He seeks something specific, and within a matter of moments, he finds it.
Finds her face, sees her eating dinner at the Chantry. Sees her dancing with a tan-skinned boy at a Christmas party. Alex sees it too - is powerless not to recall the memories as the man draws them. There's more that Keller looks at - Annie and Sasha. Their conversations.
He could look at so much more, but he doesn't. And when he's done, he draws back to the front of Alex's thoughts. Alex can feel something bridge their connection. This quiet note of tension and concern. (It is probably not what he expects to feel.)
Then the man's voice speaks in his head:
Listen to me carefully. We cannot let anyone see what I have just seen. If the Union finds this place, they will destroy it. You've ended up in the middle of an impossible situation, the details of which you do not realize and which I cannot explain quickly or easily. But know this, I am the only protection you have in this place. There are others... people who do not agree with the Union's draconian tactics. But we are always being watched. You haven't seen us because I have been doing everything in my power to keep my men away from you. I've seen more war in my lifetime than I hope you ever will.
But things are changing. The balance of power is precarious. I don't know how much longer I can keep things under control. I don't expect you to trust me but if you want to survive this, you will have to be careful and you will have to be clever. If the others suspect what I've just told you, then I won't be able to protect you anymore. Do you understand?
Dr. Keller[Edit: not to recall the memories as the man draws them out.]
AlexanderHe’d wanted to find some way of getting his mind elsewhere. Oh, he knew that Mind magic existed but he’d never thought to try to learn anything about it. It had never really seemed all that important. Without that knowledge, the only thing he could think of was to find some peace but today? Assuming it was still the same day, it’s so hard to tell with the spells of unconsciousness and the lack of windows and… And the despair that creeps into mind shatters any hope of finding that stillness.
Alex feels the other man’s Will and tenses on the bed, curling up as much as the restraints allow. There’s a sliver of time where his own Will fights against it, but he can’t fight what he can’t see. And then the fight is over before it’s even started. Memories of Leah flash through his mind and the conscious part, the part that has now lost control over what memories this man digs up so quickly, batters uselessly against the force of the other man’s Will. Tries to scream that Leah isn’t Fallen. Tries to think of anything but that. Just as when Sera had tried to link her mind to his, but to show him her Wonder, his body tries to pull away and wordlessly shouts from the man.
That sensation that bridges the connection, that gives him pause. The pointless struggle wanes as he pays more attention to it. If the connection went both ways then maybe…
Listen to me carefully…
Those few words spark off a new wave of resistance, as futile as it is. As the mental voice continues, though, the words penetrate Alex’s panicked mind. His body still reacts, still pulls and twists, because this contact is still a violation. His mind still batters against the forces containing it, but the fight lessens as the voice continues.
Thoughts scream through Alex’s frantic mind. In between the cursing and insults, a few streams of consciousness flow. Can’t trust you. It’s a trick. A trap. Just kill me. But, at this precise moment in time, this seems like the only possibility he has to make it out of this as, more-or-less, the same person he arrived.
I understand.
Dr. KellerIt could be a trick. How would he even know? The Union is known for their underhanded tactics. For their cleverness and manipulation. It's what they do. It could be a trick. But there is nothing else for him to grab onto. No alternative hope beyond the possibility his friends might find him (and what kind of hope is that, really, considering the odds of what would happen to them if they did?)
Either the man is lying, or he is telling the truth.
Only time will tell.
I'm not going to kill you, Alexander. Not unless I have to.
And this time, when he says it, there's a sense of mercy in it.
Tomorrow I am going to come for you, and we are going to begin acting out reprogramming sessions. It will not be real, but it must look as though it is. I will have to be in your mind again. I'm sorry. But if the Union thinks you are beyond saving then they will have you killed. It's a stalling tactic, but right now it's the only hand we have to play.
If it's at all reassuring, you should know I had one of my associates wipe your phone before the man you know as Weston had a chance to do anything with it. As for the girl... I would like to believe you.
He doesn't say anything else to that, but there's a feeling of doubt that registers across the link. It doesn't feel as though he's rejecting the possibility, exactly. More that he is yet to come to a conclusion.
My name is Leon Keller. I'm going to release you now.
And then he does. And when he withdraws, it feels as though a weight has been lifted from Alexander's mind. As Keller moves away from the bed, the door opens and Agent Weston walks in.
"What did you find?"
"He saw her once, at a bar. That's all I found. He doesn't know where she is now."
Weston regards Keller with a careful expression. There are hints of frustration there, but if he finds the response suspicious, he doesn't say so. "Well, we know she's alive. That's something. I'll follow up on it."
Keller nods, and the two of them leave the room. Guards move in to wheel Alexander's bed back to the metal cell. Once inside, three of them point their weapons at him as another one - very carefully - undoes the restraints.
As it turns out, his leg works just fine. There is no evidence of the injury that nearly destroyed his knee. Whoever fixed it did a very good job. They didn't even leave a scar.
They let him keep the bed, but they take the restraint straps with them. There's also a small card table and a folding chair that was added to one corner of the room, along with a small stack of books (all Technocracy-approved, of course.) The other hospital equipment was already gone before they arrived.
When they're done, the guards leave, locking the door behind them.
