ROLEPLAY HQ - amnestics

Tw: Potentially distressing violent or sexual content

Whenever one began working in the private sector, they became aware of the silent crew working in the background. The boogie men of government agencies. And with them filtered down abnormal absences of memory. It was like they wiped away traces of themselves as they moved through the world, but their normally meticulous behavior had a gap that day. Their new doctor remembered the foundation, having seen their employees in childhood. And with their new job at the foundation itself, they had a chance to learn all those secrets they'd wondered after their whole life. They started at sight B, a plain white structure that looked to be a warehouse in style. Their new badge got them inside where their new assistant was waiting with an equally new case file. The facility rested on a large plot of land guarded like Fort Knox, with armed guards and towers and barbed wire, but the inside was spacious and clean complete with a fountain and planter boxes.

"Hello! I'm your assistant! David Argel." He stuck out a hand. The man was about 35, black hair down to his shoulders. "I've been working with subject 89 for ten years now. It'll be interesting to see his response to a new doctor. He hasn't had one in so long." He passed the case files. "I mostly watch over his day to day care after he went dormant but with his new activity suppose it was time for him to have a new crew." He led the way to their shared office. His desk had a picture of a woman with a baby... A large picture window looked into a simple white room, monitors in front providing spaces for information displays. Temperature, food and water intake, air pressure, electric and chemical signals... and beyond, asleep in a hospital bed in the center of the room; was Caine. "He's been given sedatives. He was having several stress responses and I didn't want your first day with him to be a rough one. We have plenty of time for that later." David chuckled, tapping one of the screens. "If you need to speak in cell, you just have to scan your badge and press the speaker button. But I'd advise against it for now. Until he's made aware of the situation." David smiled softly settling into his desk.

@ShadowCat

The compound security was high, armed guards in watchtowers as well as operating mobile units were doing regular perimeter sweeps. Jennifer kept her cool while she was escorted through the gates, her badge along with an iris scan giving her clearance for entry. She’d made it. After so many years, she’d almost settled with the explanation that her memories from that day were dreams or distorted version of a reality only the vivid imagination of a child could conjure. But just almost. Unable to forget, even during her studies and lectures, she had made one final, perhaps desperate, attempt at consolidating those images in her mind. Her theoretical paper on scientific studies of the abnormal had harvested mixed receptions. Some called it academic suicide, others praised it for being an interesting thought exercise. Most scientific journals refused to regard it as a serious paper and would not print it. The second group were right; her paper had, for the most part, been a mental exercise where she toyed with the idea that perhaps what humans would disregard as myths, urban legends or even claimed fiction, were in fact real paranormal occurrences and should be investigated just like any other anomaly. Her paper suggested approaches, adapting already known scientific methods into a world that was fiction at large. In the aftermath or publishing it, her doctorate degree hung in a very thin thread. Jennifer’s surprise when she was later approached by a secret government branch and headhunted into their employment was nothing short of extraordinary. That was 6 months ago. The armed escort left her sides when she finally entered the facility. It had no external markings aside from a sign declaring it to be ‘Site B’. She’d been briefed and trained, albeit most of the documents they’d given her contained redacted information.

03:37

It was almost laughable that even here in this place, where the abnormal was the normal, her security clearance was guarded by governmental red tapes. She weighed the case files in her hand, internally sighing at their light weight. This assistant had worked with her subject for 10 years and all they could give her was newly printed files that would surely lack vital information? It was problematic, at best. “Jennifer Prolux,” she introduced herself and shook his hand with a firm grip, although the man surely knew her name already. She followed him to the large room that would be her office and workplace for any unforeseeable future. One did simply not ‘quit’ this job. Something Jennifer had been made very strictly aware of. The choice to accept had been hard, as it would mean she would have to abandon any career moves outside of the agency. As far as the rest of the scientific world was concerned, she simply vanished and their predictions about her academic suicide had been correct. A humiliation she’d have to deal with in favor of working here. Squinting at the picture frame on David’s desk, she turned to look through the window at the sleeping man in the next room. The window was likely a bulletproof, high density one-way mirror. “Stress responses?” she pressed for clarification, deciding that the sooner she got her head wrapped around the state of her subject, the better. Subject 89, or ‘Caine’ as his name was, wasn’t human. What they would describe as stress responses could be subjective term seen from a human’s perspective. Caine was resting, but she noticed the slightly unusual arrangement of his limbs, the small amount of drool down the side of his cheek. He’d probably tried to move at some point before the sedatives kicked in. @Vox

"Following through the glass and yelling. He's capable of screaming at a high enough pitch to burst ear drums. Caine..." he settled into a seat sighing. "... mutates at a high rate. Evolves. He thinks he is above classifications so once we settle on a title he changes his rules." David sighed. "6 years ago he became active for a day and a half to breach containment. Hunt down a singular doctor within the facilty then wandered around looking at other subjects. Walked his happy ass right back and went right back to sleep." David spun in his chair to pull up video on one of the televisions. Caine paced the glass, trailing his fingers along it. Looked at the camera. Smiled and the camera glitched. "We still have no idea what happened in the 3.447 seconds the camera was out. But I get gunshy when he starts pacing like that..." David clicked off the video. "We can't enter his containment without authorization as he is considered a red level, even if he is just in light containment. When we put him in heavier cells he worked far harder to get out. If he wants out, Caine is getting out."

He wiped his mouth groaning softly as he rolled trying to sit up. Bastard didn't even listen before pumping him full. New doc on the other side... he noted amused as he got onto shaky, bare feet. He padded to the singular blind spot in the room from the glass, the corner right next to the window on the right side. It forced the doctors to get to the left and crane to see him. "Oi. Bastard." He smacked the glass with a palm, feeling it flex. Even if he couldn't see through into the other room he knew their was people there. "Drink..."

He sighed softly watching Caine move and at the order went to a cooler chest. He picked up a small blood bag, putting it into a shelf then sliding it through to the cell. He marked it down. "He's allowed four a day while he comes out of hibernation. Provide on request. After a few days we drop to one a day. He'll wait until no ones here and it warms a bit most likely... He got called a vampire before his dormancy which ticked him off. We'll see if he changes to a different food source." @ShadowCat

She turned to the monitor and watched the short clip, making a note of the way Caine was trailing his hand along the glass. It was an X-files moment, quite unsettling. She looked back to David as the video ended, tilting her head at the assistant. Her glasses slid slightly down on her nose, and she adjusted them on the side. She’d probably embarrass herself for even asking, but in the spirit of dealing with the paranormal… When in Rome. “I need a full overview of his currently known mutations. Can he interact with electronic equipment without physically touching them? Change the frequency of inanimate objects so he can pass through them? How long does each hibernation cycle last? And is that…” she stepped closer to the hatch drawer David used to provide the subject of his ‘drink’. “…human blood or something else?” Jennifer didn’t try to see the subject, understanding that hiding was either a mind game for him to try and manipulate them, or simply a way to try and have privacy. Whatever his reason for it, she wasn’t willing to play games. Not at this time, at least. Instead, she scanned her badge on the scanner David had pointed to earlier and leaned slightly on the table, getting closer to the mic. Her soft voice echoed as it filled the room on the other side of the window. “Good afternoon, Caine. I am Dr Prolux.” Releasing the mic button, she waited. For now, that was enough of an introduction, although she was curious to see how the subject would respond -if at all. Straightening, she pocketed her hands in her white lab coat and watched the window. @Vox

What she could see pulled back, his feet tugging further up to his chest. Why a woman... he thumped his head back into the wall.

"He has a thing about women." He laughed softly. "I dont think he ever had much exposure. Doesn't know how to conduct himself." He looked through the window then waved Jennifer over, laughing. Thick red trails, more liquid blood than solid entities, were trailing over the floor. He had already blocked himself into the corner behind the fluid, leaned into the corner. "He does this before major changes to his body. I think he's trying to impress you." David laughed, more teasing than anything. "He's changing to a new set of rules and mutations so any paperwork I compile is useless now." David sighed groaning. "As for hibernation cycle he has no set amount. We know when he goes into hibernation as his appetite grows beforehand and he gets highly aggressive." David watched Caine's tendrils silently cover the glass half way. "We think this material has a high concentration of blood. He makes essentially an egg of his room, this material as yolk to feed from. Anyone who touches it skin to skin, they get massive caustic chemical burns that bleed. He eats them." David backed up lightly from the window arms crossed. "I didn't expect him to change so quickly for a new doctor." @ShadowCat

She stepped slightly closer upon David’s beckoning, watching the blooded tendrils slide and move to cover the walls around the subject as if they had a mind of their own, cocooning him in it and shielding him from their vision. Jennifer concealed her awestruck amazement well, simply observing for many seconds while processing her assistant’s words and his reluctance for proper paperwork. What a shame she had introduced herself so early. This made it so much harder to form a baseline. Perhaps that was the subject’s intention -to throw his handlers off-guard and keep them guessing. Clever, and dangerous as it provided a level of unpredictability they could never rely on. “It is not useless,” she interjected with a firm yet quiet voice. “It’s about logging and categorizing his behavioral patterns. To predict future patterns. I need those logs and a complete overview regardless.” Finally, her blue-eyed gaze moved from the window to settle on the assistant. Her assistant. “On my desk by tomorrow.” Then she sat down at the desk with all the monitors logging the subject’s vital signs, watching how this transformation affected his physiology. She spoke again, this time without taking her eyes off the monitors. “And remove that picture of your family from your desk. If he hasn’t seen it already, he probably will -the next time he decides to leave his cell for a walk. You don’t want to compromise your family.” @Vox

"Yes ma'am." He said with a little salute, but left the picture where it sat. He took to his own desk to work, putting in earbuds.

Caines vitals stayed high strung through the next hour, slowly ramping into the high 150's internally. Frying his own body with fever. David returned later with a small remote controlled drone, giving them a better view of the subjects little corner. He was twisting in place in clear discomfort beneath the membrane he'd made. Paperwork denoted earlier tests done against Caine in this state. It could stand intense pressure and force, even by blade or flat surface, though burnt off under fire of intense UV light. He could survive in this state submerged in water, hydrochloric acid, without oxygen, and in subzero temperatures though it drastically slowed the process and lowered his body heat. Interviews with Caine throughout the years were printed and converged in files with labels denoting their outcomes and topic; Important, Informative, Futile. David set down the files labeled interviews within the hour, there only being about twenty over the roughly fifty years he'd been a subject. Most of them ended with his doctors injured or refusing to work with him as a subject.... Further paperwork slowly filtered in. He stayed in the same humanoid shape; mid twenties to early thirties, Male, well fit, all roughly the same height and weight apart from a single outlier incident. Intelligent considering he ran circles around the psychologist originally assigned to him. Permitted no metal tools, no pens or pencils, nothing electronic, no books with hard covers, no food trays or dishes with plastic or glass. His clothes are to have no pins or buttons and must not be able to hold his weight. His room is to never have furniture apart from the bed bolted to the floor. No time in complete darkness. No time with free access to drains or plumbing. No vent work in his room. No free opening doors, only sealed containment doors with interlock system.

He huffed setting down a stack of paperwork. "So turns out I'd started it before but uh. Never finished. And since for the past ten years he's been in a single form it made it easy for me. Apart from outlier incident he keeps similar physical shapes. Has shown he can change his body shape without going into the goo thing that he's doing now so. Keep an eye out for imposters if he breeches containment. Intimate control of electronics when he needs to or wants to. Slight telekinetics shown before but he dropped those and only had em for one sequence. No walking through walls that I could find though he can fit through tiny gaps. If his head can fit he can so duct work is a no go. Has never shown a taste for food, preferring meat or blood particularly human for both but will eat lamb, rabbit, or birds." David started rattling down, eager to share his life's work. Staring at the thing that stared back and mocked him. He jerked up as an alarm blinked on for the drone sensing movement, turning on the camera. Caine was tearing free from the membrane coughing up the fluid from his throat. He slid sideways barely able to keep his head up. "And we have breakthrough that was fast what... 3 hours?" He checked the time. "His norm is around.... eh 7." He explained lightly. "He's done this 8 or 9 times since I started but he didn't change. His temperature stayed level not this massive spike." David pointed out. "So either he didn't change much or he's getting faster."

@ShadowCat

While her assistant busied himself in the work she’d assigned to him, Jennifer kept an eye on the monitors. Everything here was new to her, and she soon understood that the entire facility’s systems were operating on an internal network that was cut off from the outside. -To prevent hacking, she assumed. Nevertheless and being a fast learner, she maneuvered the new system with ease and found some semblance of logs and datafiles. There were audio logs of interviews between subject 89 and previous doctors that she would have been interested in reviewing, but she had to request access and clearance from upper levels. She flagged the logs and sent in a request, hoping that whoever was responsible for this ridiculous red tape was working and available. She poured through the files and documents as soon as David produced them, looking through each and every physical copy with morbid fascination. How a creature like Caine even existed in the first place was a baffling notion in itself. That she was now tasked to work with him even more so. However, the small amount of information they willingly made available to her was problematic. If she was to do a meaningful job here, she needed to be prepared for the many risks involved. It was too late for her to reject this job, so at this point any secrets withed from her served nothing but to obstruct her work. (edited)

14:28

Every now and then, her eyes would drift to the window and the bloodied tendrils attached to it, seeing them move ever so slightly. She watched the screen where the feed from David’s little drone came through and noticed there seemed to be a pattern in the tendrils’ movements and whenever Caine shifted of writhed within his cocoon. She noted the intervals mostly to have something to do. “Are there any record of his capture?” she asked after a while, looking at the screen where Caine had emerged from his cocoon and slumped to the floor. His vital signs showed higher levels of cortisol than normal, indicating stress. He was also undernourished. Jennifer thought about it for a few seconds, not liking the idea but understanding he needed sustenance. He had not yet touched his ‘drink’. She scanned her badge and spoke into the mic. “Caine? This is Dr Prolux again. How are you feeling?” Releasing the microphone button, she looked over to David. “Is there any way to have a proper dialogue with him? Does he respond to interaction or attempts at interaction?” From what she’d seen in the filed David produced, Caine was an object to be poked, prodded and examined. All manners f heinous experiments had already been preformed on him. Surviving sub-zero temperatures? While that was interesting information, she could scarcely imagine the hatred such treatment would invoke in any sentient creature. “Was he human once? Where did he come from? How was he captured and brough here? Has he ever mentioned such things? Has anyone asked?” Don’t sympathize, a warning voice at the back of her head spoke. @Vox

"He 100% is aware when we speak to him. He responds to... some things. He likes to talk though it's mostly when we aren't here..." David went back to fighting with his own computer. "I never really heard where he came from. I think there's video somewhere but I don't have authorization to see. He says he never existed but obviously..." he gestured lightly on the contrary. Her computer lit up with higher permissions, giving her access to his files.

He covered his ears with his palms at the sound echoing in the room, the voice too loud. Was he human once? Where did he come from? How was he captured and brought here? Has he ever mentioned such things? Has anyone asked? "Shut uuup!" He yelled, drawing out the word. After a moment he pulled himself forward onto the tile, fluid around him drawing back beneath his skin. All of it was apart of him and he wouldn't let them take it from him.... He pushed up against the wall in the corner and forced aside the camera to leave his corner hidden.

He looked over lightly to the doctor, amused as Caine yelled and made himself wince in discomfort. "Like I said he can talk."

@ShadowCat

Jennifer visibly startled as Caine’s outburst, his agitation coming sharply though the speakers into the office. She immediately checked the volume output of the speakers in his room, wondering if her voice had come through to him too loudly. Even though she hid her shock well thanks to a few years of practice working at institutions for the criminally insane, her heart raced at an uncomfortable pace. Looking back at David, one of her eyebrows rose. “Some things?” she repeated. “What kind of things? And I already know he can speak. What I wanted to know if it’s possible to have a dialogue with him.” Ignoring the beep from her monitor that signaled she now had access to the audio logs, Jennifer rose and walked to the side of the widow, able to see parts of Caine in his corner. She saw the fluids return to his body, seemingly absorbed though his skin. One quick glance at his vitals showed them stabilize. “Hmmm. Organic matter. Likely containing his own dna? I wonder, does the transformation happen in the cocoon shell or within his own body?” She saw the subject adjust the camera above him and looked at the screen showing a skewed image of his room. “Is it wise to leave the cctv out in the open where he can manipulate them?” @Vox

"We found he can't manipulate one's with silver casings. So the main set is fine." He sighed softly still distracted by his screen. "He shows all capabilities to have conversations. You can try to talk to him. Turn on the recorder though." He showed how to record video and audio in the cell.

He hauled himself onto his bed rolling to the side, his back to the window. He couldn't remember what they knew of his form and he didn't want the woman to know either. It all was too much to think of right now.... Holding the front of his uniform shirt he tried to settle his heart rate, thumb tracing over the implant under the skin of his chest. He'd ripped them out before but they always shoved another in him....

15:49

@ShadowCat

She almost chuckled at David’s comment. “Silver? What is he, a werewolf?” But then she bit her lip and realized perhaps such an idea wasn’t so ludicrous after all. She looked back through the window and watched as the subject crawled himself onto his bed, curled up with his back to them. Something akin to pity settled in her. Turning away from the window, deciding to leave the subject be for now, Jennifer sat back down at her desk and pulled out a pair of headphones from her shoulder bag. She plugged them into the monitor and clicked ‘play’ on the oldest audio log available, leaning back to listen through them. @Vox

"Hello 89." Caine. Please. A number is far too formal for my liking. "Alright. Caine then. Why did you call the foundation?" Call? Oh my lightshow wasn't for you. "You were... what? Playing?" Juvenile isn't it.

He stood silently at the glass, trying to concentrate far enough. He grinned as he made the man's screen flicker and then pop. "If you want information. You do know it's easiest to come to the source right?" He grinned pushing his hands to the glass. "Save you the trouble of listening to all my doctors die."

"So you were playing with the lights?" Yes. "Why?" -there was a sound of a fight and the recording cut to a new one- "Hello Caine." I'm not talking to you. "Oh? Why not?" You hurt me. "You wouldn't listen to us Caine. You may be a child but that doesn't give you an excuse to be disobedient." I'm hungry. "and you may have anything you want if you tell us some things." I don't remember. "Now I don't believe that. You drew that woman all those pretty pictures of places." I've been to places sure. But I don't remember what you want. I just. Was here.

Caine pushed harder at the glass, making the inner pane buckle and then start to crack. He grinned, tucking his face aside to protect it, and shattered the inner pane of glass. It scattered across the floor as he looked through for the first time, not seeing his own face. The one he'd known for a while now; David. And his new doctor. He smiled at her with a new found pride in himself at the look on her face.

06:18

@ShadowCat

She was preoccupied with the recordings, listening to them one by one while taking notes for future inquiry. Her monitor covered most of her vision and she didn’t notice at first that David shot up from his chair, distress on his face. The headphones canceled out smaller sounds. Gently adjusting her glasses by lifting them at the side -not the cliché on the bridge of her nose- she looked down at her notes while she wrote. Then she spotted movement in her peripheral vision and saw David had sprung out of his chair, eyes peeled on the window. Jennifer immediately pulled her headphones off. “What’s….” her voice trailed off, blue eyes following the startled gaze of her assistant, hearing now the slow crack of layered ballistic glass. The sound brought an irrational memory to mind, one of her childhood when she and her sister had gone ice skating on a lake. Then it shattered fully, splinters filled the room and littered the floor. She bounced out of her chair in shock, terror and instinctual flight response. Subject 89 was staring right at them, a vicious grin on his face and nothing protecting them from his reach. Jennifer quickly moved to the office door where a tranquilizer gun was placed behind a glass containment. “David! Alarm. Now.” During the six months between her initial recruitment and coming here today, the Foundation had trained her in breach protocols and what to do if subjects broke out of their containments. However, faced with such an incident on her first day on the job, all that training went out the window. Just my luck… What a great start, she cussed in her mind, watching Caine closely for what he would do. Judging by the audio files, he wasn’t gentle with his victims. “Caine…” she tried speaking, her heart racing wildly in her chest and stealing most of her breath away. “What are you doing?” @Vox

"I couldn't stand that damn mirror." He rapped a knuckle on the half an inch plane still in place. "You still have a window. Calm down." He hopped onto the window ledge ignoring the glass under him. Cross legged, hands in his lap, Caine sat across from her. "Talk to me." He said with the eagerness of a child, knees pressed to the remaining layer of glass. His arms were bleeding from his push through the first pane but he didn't seem to notice nor care. Gold honey eyes followed Jennifer as he settled down into a statue still state. Movement is too much. Slow.... They're frightened... The outer door to his hall closed, the pin resetting to a number of his own decision, the inner door slowly closing so the noise wouldn't catch their attention. Both were watching him. "No one will talk to me anymore. I'm not allowed interviews. Or outside. I want music. And art. Blankets." He said softly. "I will talk to you if you let me have things." He bargained putting his palms on his knees. @ShadowCat

A deep exhale forced her shoulders to lower slightly. David had taken a tranquilizer gun and was aiming it at the remaining glass separating them from the subject. Jennifer eyed the monitor displaying subject 89’s vitals before she looked back at him, settled and seemingly comfortable on the sill between where his mirror had been and their glass. Only then did she realize that the way his mirror had shattered should not be possible. Ballistic glass would not shatter that way. How… At this point Jennifer regretted dearly that she had already listened to the audio logs. They’d given her a better insight to how he treated his earlier doctors. Which in turn gave her reason to fear him. Should have stayed oblivious, she mentally berated herself. “Okay,” she nodded slowly, watching the man with wariness. Stall him. Security will be here soon. “Let’s talk then. Did you have questions for me?” She was deliberately careful not to promise anything regarding his demands, knowing the higher ups might not take kindly to Jennifer being strongarmed into promising the subject luxuries on her first day. It would be a sign of weakness and incapability as a doctor. That she had been so easily manipulated by the very subject she was supposed to work on. They might declare her… a failure and force an early ‘retirement’. A cold shudder ran down her back at the thought. She moved slowly while his eyes followed her back to her chair, deciding that perhaps if she sat down he would also be less inclined to show hostility towards them. @Vox

"Do you believe in something more beyond this life? Be it God. An afterlife. The field of reeds, elysium, nirvana, heaven... or do we just... cease? Like we were never here." Caine asked softly, voice tinged with what sounded to be... mourning. Or fear. His voice wavered. "I dont like the concept of not existing." He followed up with head tipping aside. He idly picked up a larger shard of the thick glass, balancing it on the pad of his finger. "Or does the brain in its dying moments make up a place for us, that lasts forever within a second. Our one chance at understanding the infinite possibilities around us." He dropped his hand, the piece of glass stationary before his eyes. "What I decide; is. Is this my dying creation and you are simply a piece of my fantasy?" Caines eyes shifted to look down. He looked... lost. "Why would you come work here? In the hope to see what you saw then?" He finally asked bluntly, looking back to her. "They tried to make you forget everything, but you saw. You remembered." He smiled softly. "And then you threw away any chance of free life to do this. Something that no one will remember. You made yourself cease to exist. Willingly...."

09:57

@ShadowCat

Her frantically beating heart slowed slightly while he spoke, watching him the whole time for signs of aggression. “Do I believe in an afterlife? I used to be an agnostic about most existential musings,” she answered him honestly, blinking slowly to remain calm. “I understand why the idea of not existing is frightening to most, why many cultures and religions confer to a perceived afterlife or even rebirth. It makes the idea of death more bearable. Both our own and the death of those we love.” Jennifer leaned back in her chair a little, watching with fascination his trick with the glass shard. While admittedly surprised at his words, the fact that he was having an existential crisis did not surprise her at all. It would be a common thing for a person locked up like him; with little to no positive or sensational stimuli to remind him he was still alive. He would not be the first segregated individual to doubt his very reality and existence. But then he asked about her reason for being there, mentioning her past. Some of the color drained from her face while their eyes locked. Jennifer took many steadying breaths, composing herself to not give away any tells that his words unsettled her. “I don’t cease to exist here. I have… I can have a life. I think, I create, I speak and act out of my own autonomy. I exist. I have freedom.” It was perhaps unfair of her to say these things, knowing he was robbed of the same liberties. Again, a sense of empathy filled her, and she had to strangle it fiercely, reminding herself how dangerous this individual truly was. “Are you afraid of dying, Caine?” She quickly glanced at the time, wondering what was taking security so long. @Vox

"I have died many times. To remake myself in a higher image." He dropped the glass to clatter on the floor, swaying where he sat. "When you die what will you become?" He hugged himself, exhausted. "Will you be happy with them? All together in the void?" He winced as they forced the doors open, quickly running out of steam. He slid sideways and all of the doors unlocked, letting in what felt like a fresh breath. He'd passed out from the strain, fighting to control the electronics he barely understood. Deep breaths heaved his chest as he clawed back for time. More time to talk... I want to talk...

The security team entered Caine's cell with a large cannister, the inside cushioned like a bed. All of the agents were heavily armored, complete with face masks and rifles. The one who moved Caine seemed hesitant to touch him, fighting for a moment before lifting him under the arms into the cushioned cannister and closing the top.

"Those are made for him. Silver linings to keep him inside. They pump it full of sedatives to move him. Probably into a heavy containment cell since he showed he can shatter ballistic glass." David said breathlessly. "He's never tried to... to talk like that before..." he padded into the cell after they'd shut Caine in and locked it. The tank had no windows. David helped put in the sedatives for transport, glass crunching under so many boots.

@ShadowCat

The moment subject 89’s speech got slurred, Jennifer’s attention snapped into focus. Her eyes quickly went to the monitor of his vitals. When he slumped sideways unconscious at the same time as the doors opened, Jennifer jumped to her feet and approached the glass. “Caine?” she banged on the glass separating them to try and keep him awake, seeing the guards rush into his cell with what looked like a steel casket. She quickly turned to David, questions in her eyes. “What just happened?” Leaving the office of hurried feet, Jennifer made her way out into the corridor, watching from there while the security team placed the subject’s limp body within the small confinement, sealing it tight and securing it so he would not be able to break free. A sense of dread, humiliation and anger burned within her stomach, watching David assisting them to fill the casket with sedatives and then lift it to transport him. She moved out of their way when they entered the corridor, resting her back against a wall. Frustrated, she took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose where they normally rested, wiping away what little sweat had gathered underneath the plastic against her skin. Her sight was blurred without them, seeing double as if she was underwater. With a hard sigh, she put them back on and fixed her gaze on David. “Now what? He can’t stay in his usual cell, and he can’t stay in that… that box! Now what?!” Her naturally soft voice raised slightly, agitation showing on her face. It wasn’t David’s fault, but in that moment, she was looking for something to outlet her anger on. “He was talking! What just happened here?” @Vox

"He broke the glass so. We can't keep him here safely anymore. We'll get moved to a heavy containment office. It'll take a while for the technical support to set up the cell so you might as well go home." David huffed looking as exhausted as Jennifer. He dropped his head in a palm, looking at the report one of the security staff passed him. "He imputed himself into the security system of his section. Shut the doors and changed the pin required to open them. So they had to reset the entire system. Turned off the camera systems and mimicked the activity of another subject in the cell next to him. The security team thought they were responding to another subject and went there first..." he rubbed his eyes, holding out the paperwork. "All the stuff you requested is sent to the iPad provided by the facility. Head home...." he said gently pushing up off the floor.

He blinked awake in the cannister pushing his palms to the cool metal. It's what he expected... Wedging sideways in the container he swallowed down his claustrophobia, lungs aching from the sedative. Four long hours... he tucked his arm over his face. At least the dark kept him from seeing how small the space really was. He was asleep before he realized arms pressing into the cold wall. They opened the cannister remotely once his chip was registered to the computers in the office. Sighing softly he pulled himself out of the transport container, shakily stepping to the tile floor. His new cell was bigger, still only furnished with a cot bolted to the floor. But there was a new screen. True it was locked behind glass and voice activated, but it gave him access to something new; music. Movies. Television...

09:13

@ShadowCat

She took the paperwork and the iPad David handed to her, turning it on and noticing it unlocked by scanning her iris. She exhaled slowly through her nose to calm down her still frayed nerves and temper, angry with both the subject, the staff, and the Foundation itself. It seemed to her the subject had not acted out of hostility. Not this time. He’d reached out to interact with fellow humans. Even if he wasn’t entirely human himself, his DNA was composed of mostly human genetics and his mind still held the self-awareness of a human. Perhaps most of all she was angry with herself. With those thoughts, she returned to the office and collected her things, stuffing it all angrily back into her shoulder bag while glancing occasionally at the screen still showing the subject’s vital signs. From what she could tell, he was still sedated and likely in a drug induced sleep. She shook her head and left the wing, heading for the exit doors. .. When Jennifer arrived at her apartment and parked her car, she sat in the darkness and silence for a while, looking at the building. It was an older but well-kept building, the apartment provided to her by the Foundation when she agreed to take this job. She’d have to move away from Wisconsin to be closer to the facility. The move had hurt her more than the loss of her academic career. Her house back home was her heritage, passed down to her by her grandparents. They were both dead and had left her their only legacy. Her grandfather had built it with his own hands on a plot of land separated from his brother’s farmland. The area had turned into a neighborhood by now, the city state bought up properties to convert them into family homes as the surrounding cities expanded. Today, only a few houses remained from the era of their beginning.

00:05

She left her car and unlocked the door to her apartment, flicking the lights on. It was spacious enough, with one bedroom but large rooms altogether. The Foundation clearly meant for her to have decent comfort on her time off the clock. Yet it still didn’t feel like home. She kicked her moderately high-heeled shoes off in the hallway and stopped by the bathroom to pull her hair out of the bun at the back of her head. She hated it, but she’d learned from experience not to have loose hair a subject could grab without coming too close. Jennifer glanced at herself in the mirror, scowling a little at the cliché appearance of herself. Blonde, glasses, hair put up in a librarian bun. It had been hard enough to be taken seriously by her academic peers simply because she was a woman. Even more so because she was blonde. Some men even thought that her bad eyesight was a lie she used just to give herself a stereotypical look of someone educated. Misogynistic morons… Yearning for a drink, she poured herself a glass of rosé vine from the fridge, bringing the bottle and her bag with her to the couch. There, she unpacked her bag while settling in a corner with the iPad, drinking while she read through subject 89’s files and whatever audio and video logs she could find on the device. One icon on the home screen had caught her eyes many times. It was in red text and just said ‘Live’. Pressing it, her blue eyes widened as the screen took a second to connect and then showed her a live feed of subject 89’s new cell. Jennifer kept the live feed on, watching from time to time while she read the remaining files. Meanwhile she also finished the entire bottle ow wine, and eventually she fell asleep on the couch. The iPad prepped up on the table. @Vox

He was fighting with his new screen, frustrated with how it wormed. Nothing he did impacted how the machine worked so he couldn't force it to what he wanted. He watched the separate camera click on, the little red light different than the consistent hum from the others. Live stream...

Most of his interviews were bland things, debating logistics of the nature of things or arguing over behavior. In one, gunshots could be heard and Caine screaming, going higher and higher pitched until it wasn't audible through the recording, just a dull whine. It stopped once all the movement in the room ceased. Another was just him talking, taken from his cell. Him singing softly to himself. A quick search of the song came up with a YouTube video and a relatively recent release. At that time he'd have no way of seeing it being stuck in his cell without access, but he had learned it somehow anyway. The rest of the files correlated with his 'process' of evolution. Picking up and dropping skills in exchange for others, with only one major outlier. A day he made himself a woman; speed focused, winged. The face of a tech at the time of the incident. He killed her then replaced her. Wandered the building looking for a specific doctor, killed him, then went looking at other subjects in the building. A note at the bottom was scrawled: "Gets along with 40 and 201. Possible reward scenarios. Intense fear of 38, 28, and 1; punishment scenarios. Destruction scenarios."

@ShadowCat

Light flashed rapidly before her eyes, followed by a screeching, unnatural sound. It sounded like something between the haunting, devastated screams of a human and metal scraping against metal. Jennifer crouched and tried to cover her ears, whimpering while shutting her eyes as hard as she could. She heard her mother’s voice, shouting for the girls to hide! Paralyzed and unable to move, she sat there hidden, the flashing light blinding her even with her eyes shut. The sounds hurt, digging into her brain like a needle poking through her skull. Something touched her shoulder, stirring her out of her paralysis. Jennifer dared to peek and saw Olivia, her older sister. Her sister yanked at her arm and pulled a much smaller Jennifer to her feet, dragging her along with her away from the car crash. Then the flashing lights became more concentrated and suddenly lighting struck down in front of the two girls. It perforated the street and rubble flew around them. Jennifer threw a look over her shoulder. A man wearing white clothes stood in the midst of multiple cars toppled and wrecked. He screamed as if every agony in the world rested upon his shoulders. The lights emanated from him in waves that electrocuted everything in its path. Turning to look forward again, the lifeless body of her sister laid in an unnatural position in the rubble on the street. Dull, blank eyes stared back at her.

08:41

Jennifer woke with a powerful startle that hurt her spine, covered in sweat and panting as if she’d run a marathon. Blinking and rubbing her face, she cast a squint at the time and cussed before throwing her blanket away. “Fuck! Shit… fucking shit,” she cussed and hurried to the bathroom. “Second day on the job and already late. Fucking great Jen. Awesome. You’re a mess!” An hour later, Jennifer checked into the Foundation facility with a calm face and unhurried, measured strides. Her slightly high heels clicked and echoed against the corridor walls, her appearance as impeccable as it had been the day before. Underneath the sterile lab coat, she wore a black suit, gender neutral and not doing anything to enhance her forms in any way. “Good morning David,” she greeted her assistant, not apologizing for being over an hour late. “How’s subject 89 doing today?” @Vox

He looked absolutely thrilled handing over earplugs. "They gave him access to music so be glad you're so late." He snorted then let her through the double sealed door into the new office. They had two desks for their computer system as well as a larger panel for controlling inside the cell. True Daniel could turn the music off but considering it was the first time he'd had access in 7 years, he didnt. He did turn it down catching Caine's attention and making him tsk. The loud piano music echoed off the walls surrounding him like a blanket as he sat in the center of the room, his eyes closed. "He's been doing this all morning. Only thing he's said is asking where you were considering this cell isn't mirrored." David huffed settling into his seat. "Foundation wants further interviews. Asking about his origin. Considering how eagerly he talked with you, they thought having us lie saying you got him the music would make him warm up." Daniel tipped back and forth in his office chair, massaging his forehead. The cell was nearly soundproof, but the sound still echoed loudly in their office. "They also want us to test his intake of medications. See his response to large quantities of different chemicals and take blood draws for lab." Daniel gestured lightly to a cooler, "it's all prepared and labeled in blood packages."

He kept his palms flat on his folded legs, using the music to drown out the pounding headache behind his eyes. His show for her was exhausting and his four hours in a tank sapped off any energy he did have. When she came in he smiled pushing up to walk to the glass, following her as she passed in front kf his window. She seems so familiar.... he trailed aside as she didn't notice him and he felt foolish. "Youre obsessing like a child Caine." He chastised himself and continued mumbling as he went back to the center, throwing himself down to sit. He tried to not glare at them, the immature idea in his brain to yell at the glass making him laugh to himself. "Change song. Mozart." He barked, letting the piano drown out the thoughts.

"He really didn't like you not saying hello." He noted softly, "when you walked passed he followed you." Daniel noted then sighed at the subjects order to change music. The vocal command registered and Daniel dropped his head back groaning, "enough with the fucking mozart."

@ShadowCat

Jennifer listened to David’s report of what had happened and the ongoings in her absence. Her head thrummed with a slight headache from the wine she’d drunk the night before and she squinted slightly at the sharp ceiling lights. Should drink more water. Instead, she sipped her coffee cup that she’d pilfered from the closest thing this place had to a break room while maneuvering through the facility. In reality it was nothing more than a coffee machine and a vending machine, surrounded by a few comfortable recliners. “Mozart, huh. Not your usual request, is it? Tell me, how can he have knowledge of music he’s not listened to? I was reviewing some audio files last night and heard him sing to himself when he was alone. One of the songs was a hit a few years ago. From what I can tell, subject 89 had no access to any kind of media at that time and no contact with anyone outside of the team working with him.” While she spoke, she unpacked her shoulderbag onto one of the desks, setting her notes and the iPad down onto it and arranging it all neatly -almost pedantically. Once satisfied, she looked towards the monitor showing the feed from subject 89’s cell, seeing him on the floor and presumably relaxed. “They want me to go in there? Feed him meds and take blood samples? What kind of meds?” Her voice may be calm, but inwardly her calm cracked just a little. “Is that wise with him… unrestrained?” Would restraints even work on him?

15:35

She tapped her foot against the floor in thought, biting her lip to stem the unease at the very idea of going in there. The look on his face the day before when he broke through the mirror had been… victorious. He enjoyed showing off, liked seeing the shock on people’s faces. Possibly a narcissistic trait. He’s still human…. With a deep and slow inhale, she approached the speaker button that would allow her to talk into his cell. The moment she pressed the button, it interrupted the music and caught his attention. “Good morning Caine. I’m happy to see you are up and about. Can I get you anything?” Her eyes wandered to the coffee cup on her desk, and she smirked a little. Small rewards. “Coffee?” After she released the button, her eyes wandered to David and she shrugged in a small gesture. “Worth a try?” @Vox

"Mm... I'm not sure. It's definitely something to flag. I know he got a hold on a cellphone at some point but that was a long time ago and he only had it for a few minutes before he took it apart...." Daniel trailed off in thought perplexed. "We'd give the materials through his meals. It's the easiest way without problems. And the chemicals we have right now iiiisssss...." he tugged open the cooler checking tags, "Caffeine, THC, an antipsychotic medication, Estrogen, Testosterone, aaaand bath salts." He shut the door sitting back in his chair. "And I'm sure we'd do the vault." He pointed to a small box on the side of the cell. "He puts in his hand and it locks him in until we release it. Gives access to his arm and keeps us safe." He explained, reassuring she's be safe.

His eyes flicked up as his music stopped, visibly annoyed until she talked. "Good morning to you. I want my music back." He said in response, voice level and controlled, and he closed his eyes. "I can't process coffee. I have no stomach." He stated which made Daniel make a confused face.

"You do have a stomach Caine. We have scans of your internal organs proving it."

"Not like yours. I can't process material outside of my diet." He responded then gestured up, spinning a finger. Music. So I don't do something foolish again. He wanted to show off again, see her face twist in confusion or admiration. The face she'd made when he'd blindly guessed in the dark of her past. They always came so proud and entitled, thinking they could unravel the secrets, but the second anyone touched theirs they panicked. He chuckled to himself.

16:05

@ShadowCat

She couldn’t help the shocked scowl she sent in David’s direction. “Bath salts? You mean cathinone. Oy, what a cocktail.” With a sigh, she grabbed the bag labeled ‘caffeine’ and put it into the hatch that would allow Caine to take it. “Let’s start mild.” Watching the monitor again, she pressed the button to speak with him. “Well in that case I have your… diet right here. It’s in the hatch for you. You didn’t drink your meal yesterday, so you must be hungry. Or do you say thirsty?” She paused while watching for his reaction, considering his intent in listening to music. Perhaps requesting an interview was too much for him this day. However… The higher ups had given their orders. It struck her that it was possible many of the violent incidents in the past had happened because the subject had not been allowed to choose if, when and with who he spoke. He would not be the first person locked up in a system to lash out at such violation of his personal space and autonomy. “If you’re feeling up for it, I would like to continue our conversation today?” It sounded better. An offer, a question, giving him the option to decline should he wish it. @Vox

He sighed annoyed at being interrupted again but now the fixation was being indulged so... "If you're going to keep talking just turn off the music..." he motioned as he went to the drawer using his teeth the pull open the plastic top. He watched Daniel frantically turn off the music amused, drinking from the plastic pouch. He noticed the tag popping it out of his mouth, "What does this say?" He asked as he put the nozzle back between his teeth, watching the other two. He could barely read, knowing how to write his name and his full identification number, 89P7NGF4. He did notice Daniel's motion and read his lips, Its an ID tag... "Its not an ID Tag what is it?" Caine snapped now suspicious. It did taste weird... he dropped the rest of the mostly empty package back into the drawer uncaring if it made a mess inside. "I'll talk to you. But not with him here." He pointed, blaming Daniel for what felt like a trick.

He sighed softly, "Are you alright on your own? I'll go sit in the next room. I have my tablet so you can text me. We need blood samples every hour." Daniel huffed, "since he apparently dislikes me today."

@ShadowCat

Jennifer cocked her head at the subject’s confusion about the label on his drink, flipping quickly through her files for information. There was no mention of him being unable to read. How strange. Humoring him and deciding honesty to be the safest approach, she pressed the speaker button. “It’s caffeine, Caine. Caffeine is a mild stimulant you normally find in coffee. It’s harmless, although it might make you feel more alert and awake.” She silenced when he demanded to speak with her alone, feeling that cold hand of unease creep back up her spine. Nevertheless, she gave Daniel a nod of reassurance before he left. Making sure she had her iPad close at hand and her remaining coffee, she turned the recorders on to document the interview. Instead of fussing about him discarding his meal, she blinked slowly and spoke clearly into the mic. “I will need a blood sample from you in one hour from now. It’s merely meant to document how your body responds to caffeine. I myself…” she lifted her cup and gestured to it. “…I use this to feel more awake in the mornings.” After David had left, Jennifer could not help feeling like she was alone with a dangerous animal. It mattered little that there was about ten layers of ballistic glass between them. Given the subject’s display of triumph the day before, she didn’t trust that he would not try to break this glass as well. To what end other than because he could, she wasn’t ready to start guessing. “Are you familiar with social meetings between people over coffee just to have a chat?” @Vox

"I get the concept." He said lightly, flippant, but he was broiling. Angrily he dragged his cot in front of the window and once it was in place, slammed it down with a loud bang. "I don't people giving me chemicals like that and expecting me to be fine with it. Just tell me it's a test." He tsked annoyed sitting on top of his cot, refusing to let her skim passed the trick with little acknowledgement. "But yes. I did spend a good portion of time outside before your employers decided I was a danger to others." He settled cross legged, hands in his lap. She's hesitant. Did I do too much. he shifted how he was sitting so his hands were always visible. He had to make hand motions to use power, so it was a bid to make her comfortable in his mind. He didn't want her frightened of him. "Why were you late? Poor sleep?" He asked gently, meaning it an innocent question. Some always got so stressed when he responded with questions of his own. He hoped she wouldn't. His high heart rate caught his attention, a tremble that tightened his chest and made him feel it was hard to breath. More uncomfortable than anything. "You willingly feel this?" He grimaced rubbing the center of his chest under the uniform. The motion lifted the bottom of his shirt, showing both muscle and scarred skin. @ShadowCat

She watched with a stoic expression and eyes slightly wide while the subject moved his cot. Wasn’t that bed supposed to be bolted to the floor? Or wall? Jennifer swallowed hard mid sip of her coffee to hide her uneasiness. The many layers of glass now seemed even more like a false sense of security. “Very well,” she agreed and gave him a nod. “It is a test. I have other bags here for you with different chemicals. You may take them and report how you feel, let me draw your blood after an hour. Or you may refuse. The choice is yours.” She watched as he settled on the cot and made himself comfortable, noticing how he carefully and methodically arranged his hands, how he poised himself, how he watched her, how he softened the tone of his voice when he asked about her being late. None of it passed her attention. Yet she did not reply to his question. Instead, his comment about the effects of the caffeine had her smirk, a humorous smirk not meant to be offensive, yet she corrected it quickly. “Yes. Many enjoy it even. But you might be less tolerant to it if you don’t normally take it.” Her blue eyes tried – tried very hard not to stare at his abs made visible underneath his shirt. She snapped them back up at his face, finishing her coffee and tossing the empty paper cup into the trashcan by the door. Jennifer shook her head to focus, looking back at him and this time making sure she was holding his gaze instead of letting them wander wherever they pleased. “You mentioned being outside. Before. Would you like to tell me about that? Your life before this place, who you were, what you did, where you lived?” @Vox

"I lived in a large place. Very loud." He made a hand motion like a claw at his ear to denote the sound. "And it was always bright with signs outside my window." He cleared his throat, wincing gently continually rubbing the center of his chest. He wasn't much looking at her, looking aside and staring into space like he was trying to remember. "I wasn't allowed outside. My mother didn't allow it." He blinked as he realized he'd let so much slip away. He couldn't control his mouth. Tingly... Rubbing the palms of his hands on his legs, he huffed a breath. "But you ignored my question. Why were you late?" He asked again, pointedly. He had some tiks, repeated activity from habits he'd learned, but he often suppressed them when he found so many eyes on him. But now he felt he couldn't register when he was doing them. Patting the center of his chest, rocking, and a twisting motion with his hand of which was the easiest way for him to channel his energy. The inside of his cell had a higher air pressure, raising and lowering very slightly with his breath. "What about you? Your childhood. Did you like your mother?" He tipped his head lightly curious. @ShadowCat

Jennifer did not need to note down anything he said, trusting that the security recordings would provide enough visuals to track his behavior for later evaluation. She sat quietly and observed him while he spoke, seeing that he most likely had already subconsciously abandoned his carefully posed position. Lights through his window. City? “Why would your mother not allow you outside?” she asked and leaned on her desk slightly, watching him rub his chest absentmindedly. She crossed her legs slowly at his question, recognizing his need for some level of personal connection with her. Why she was late was not his concern, allowing her subject insight in her personal life would be a minefield to maneuver. But then again, what did she have to lose? She had no family. No relationships. Jennifer had given up on everything, first to pursue her career and aiming for that doctorate. Only to shoot it all down when she’d accepted this job. “I was late because I overslept,” she said with honesty. “People do that sometimes, you know? And yes, I did love my mother. And she loved me. Did you… love your mother, Caine? Could you tell me more about your family? Your father? Brothers or sisters?” @Vox

"I loved my mother because I was a child that did not know better. My lack of exposure gave me a certain narrow-minded love only one could have from not knowing what love was supposed to be. Still don't. And she loved me in the sense I fulfilled her purpose but nothing more than that I'd suppose." He flopped back onto his cot hands above him. He passed bolts through his fingers, four taken from the base of his bed. "Did you have siblings? When I pressed you before your face drained like I'd hit a nerve. I'm assuming someone died." He looked over. He spoke of such things without remorse, because he had none. Even as a boy he had no reason to understand the others. Nor did he understand why his mother took in so many children. Kids with unwashed faces and grabbing hands that clung to those older than them for some semblance of safety. He had never asked, so he didn't know. "My mother believed me the conduit to God. That my changing my form was communication telling her all the approval she wanted. She had a weapon of perfected evolution. The other children failed where I excelled and she believed it her own doing, not mine." He tsked annoyed at the memory welling behind his eyes and sat up. He felt ancy, he couldn't sit still nor control enough energy to do an action to make it stop. It felt like trying to pull sand... Its too hot. he rubbed sweat out of his eyes. @ShadowCat

"You seem to have given the dynamics and relationship between yourself and your mother a lot of thought, Caine. She was highly religious I take it? And what of your father. Was he around?" Jennifer kept her voice slow and calm, although parts of her wanted to bombard the man with questions. The more they talked the more questions she had. Questions she was sure her supervisors within the Foundation would have liked answered as well. "I had a sister…" Her blue eyes trailed to the bolts in his hands as he toyed with them, again reminded of the unnatural strength he possessed. She made a note to check if his very DNA had altered for each time he changed, wondering if the components in him that allowed for it could be isolated and even synthesized. The idea to attempt such a thing was unsettling, the ramifications if such information were to fall into the wrong hands too big to comprehend. World changing at best. Devastating at worst. "Do you remember what city you grew up in?" was her next question. Perhaps it would be possible to find information without having to consult him. From what he was saying, it sounded like his mother had either taken care of many foster children, or he was referring to an orphanage employee as mother. Jennifer knew some orphanages were run by the church. When he sat up and had a clear look of annoyance on his face and wiping his forehead, she frowned. "How are you feeling?" Using her feet to scoot forward on the floor, she dragged the wheeled office chair with her towards the glass and the contraption David had referred to as 'the vault'. There, Jennifer began readying the empty vials, cotton and strap needed for a blood sample. "I know it's not been an hour. But you look like you're having some unusual symptoms or reaction to the caffeine. Mind if I take your blood sample now?" This close to the glass, she could easily meet his gaze, looking at him with honest concern in her eyes. @Vox

He carefully pushed up to pad to the vault, sliding his arm through to grip the handle on the other side. "Spin the box." He instructed lightly. With the whole Vault spun it locked his hand in. To remove it would shove his arm down onto auto-express needles to put him out cold, until the Vault was unscrewed. Simple, yet effective. If he tried to harm the person, he'd be stuck achieving nothing. Once his arm was thoroughly in and the set up on his end complete he continued with her questions. He didn't get why he liked her other than maybe a personal bias he hadn't been aware of. He'd never felt so free to speak with someone. Then again she made it feel she'd keep his secrets, despite his knowing to think such a thing was foolish. She was working and he was playing.... "Men were not allowed in the house, I was the only male allowed to stay past 7 years old when I showed skill. Men brought sin and coveted young girls, in Mother's eyes." Ironic... He watched her silently, keeping statue still. His skin was ran over with tiny whitish pink lines, like his skin had been cut by razors and healed leaving behind whispers where they'd been. He twitched when she touched him and he swallowed down the thoughts swirling in his head. Men bring sin and covet girls... truly not a lie. "I dont remember the name of the city. Mother didn't refer by proper names to the places we went. It was very busy. Loud. 'New' something. Even when we were permitted to watch television we got to watch nature documentaries only. So, never got to learn much of the world beyond the natural one. At the needle his face twitched and he thumped his head lightly against the glass. He hated needles, especially taking his body away like that.... "the symptoms.... it just is hard to think and concentrate. I dont quite like it. It's too hard to pull together my attentions..." he said gently as she worked over his arm. "And it makes me hot. Uncomfortable." Holdkmg the front of his shirt he puffed it out

20:49

quickly, trying to get some cooler air. "If you had any power you wished, what would you hope it'd be?" Juvenile was the best way to speak of the question. Something to ask children playing super hero... "I'd always wished I could fly..." @ShadowCat

Jennifer spun the box as he instructed, somewhat surprised at his docile compliance and even telling her how to operate the contraption. Her blue eyes regarded him for a few seconds before they settled down on the part of his arm that was exposed to her. Putting on a pair of sterile gloves and arranging the syringe on a tray along with everything else, she strapped a band around his upper arm. “The house… Do you remember what it was like?” She dabbed a piece of cotton in a disinfectant fluid, cleaning the area of his skin where she’d insert the needle. Gently, her finger prodded at a vein that was slowly making itself visible. “What happened to the other boys when they reached 7?” Her eyes trailed along the pale scars of his skin, wondering, yet still not asking. Not yet. Perhaps later. “New… York?” she instead suggested, trying to jog his memory of his home city. “New Orleans? New Hampshire?” She cocked her head a little, assessing his all too still expression and how he seemed to steel himself for the needle. Just as she thought, as soon as the needle pierced his skin, the subject’s face contorted just slightly. “Not a fan of needles, huh?” To try and minimize his discomfort, she inserted the first of three vials and released the strap around his arm, watching as the vial quickly filled with his blood. Then she replaced it with a new one. “Some people find central stimulants pleasant. I can see you’re not one of those people.” She put the last vial into the syringe cap and watched it fill. This one was bigger than the others. Once done, she added a piece of cotton on top of the needle and pulled it out of him, holding the cotton there for a few seconds with firm pressure. The needle was quickly discarded in a secure box so it would not harm anyone.

04:13

She added a surgical tape over the cotton to hold it in place over the tiny puncture wound, eventually releasing his arm and straightening to look at him properly. She had not yet turned the mechanism that held him locked in place, simply watching his face while she pondered on his question. A slight smirk came to her face, an irrational memory of a stand-up comedy she’d seen once where the comedian asked his audience the same question. Answers were the same; flying, x-ray vision, superhuman strength, speed, walk through walls, invisibility… But the comedian himself had said he wished he had the power to give people and orgasm by a simple touch. The social ramifications had made her laugh heartily at the time, and she almost did this time as well. Jennifer quickly cleared her throat and shook the memory away, smiling a little. “If I had superpowers, I’d use them to do good. Perhaps I’d wish for the ability to see people’s memories. Think about how useful that would be when dealing with witness investigations or patients suffering from amnesia. Or perhaps to treat patients with PTSD.” She flipped the box that held his arm locked and released him, turning to the vials and logging the time he’d ingested the caffeinated blood as well as the time she’d taken the blood samples. Then she rose and put the three vials in a hatch in the wall, flicking a light to signal they were ready for pick-up and processing. Pausing as she turned back to the glass and the subject, she tilted her head forward in a curious expression. “Do you remember at what time you left your home? How old you were? The circumstances?” @Vox

"She would have me kill them and eat them. I was the house boogie man. I think New Orleans. There was alot of storms and everyone talked about the big one that destroyed the city. We had a townhouse in the French quarter." He explained, fingers shifting around the post in the Vault. "Like a doctor. Always wanting to help." He noted softly amused in response to her answer, tugging his arm back loose. He tore off the tape leaving it for the garbage, licking the inside of his arm. "I left at eight because a girl left. She'd seen me before in the house and went to the police with reports of abuse. Mother went out to greet them with a shotgun instead of a smile." He sat back on his cot laying down, holding his arm straight in the air. "I was understandably upset to lose my parent. Its one of the few periods in my life I don't remember, but I woke in a jail cell in cuffs and a gunshot to the stomach. They were too panicked to call medical for me so I took it upon myself to change my form, which didn't help their panic by the by, and then your lovely employer snapped me up." He was babbling but he didn't care, watching his fingers above him phase as he moved. He looked over as Daniel came back tsking angrily by the brash behavior.

"I got kicked out the lobby so sorry but I'm back." He huffed thumping in his seat.

"Its the next day Daniel. Where's the paperwork? Tik tok." He snapped. How rude is it to just blast into someone else's sensitive conversation like a child...

"She got it electronically Caine. It's easier." He answered without looking up, knowing the other was glaring.

"And I believe she told you to take down the photo, Danny... just in case." He grinned rolling to sit up. His whole demeanor switched. He wasn't trying to limit his motion or control to put at ease. The monitor with his heart rate and blood pressure slowed, lowering into a placid level. "Well Danny. Take it down." He said again, watching Daniel stop working and just stare at his desk top.

"Stop Caine. Now."

"Would be a shame if someone got out to get the one they missed mm? The one they didn't know was there...." he put his palms to the glass, still smiling, but it looked like a grimaced baring of teeth. A dog trying to frighten off another.

05:04

@ShadowCat

If her face paled slightly by his words, she could not help it. “You…. killed and ate your brothers?” Jennifer swallowed and tried to look unphased, failing horribly. His unusual diet aside - hearing him say those words so casually was just another reminder that he was not fully human. That he was dangerous. Possibly extremely deranged. The vulnerability she’d seen, the relaxed conversation up until this point; it all faded away as she observed his remorseless behavior. “How did murdering and eating those other boys make you feel? You say she made you do it. How?” Her expression turned to annoyance at David’s interruption, looking sideways at him as he offered a shoddy excuse for being back in here. They wouldn’t kick him from the lobby. Not if he was there by her orders. He was her assistant after all. But she didn’t want to cause a scene. Not while subject 89 could see and hear them. Instead, she watched the exchange between them, her suspicions about there being a long-standing friction between them growing stronger. Her blue eyes noted the way the subject’s heart rate slowed while he on the contrary looked more agitated than he had since she stepped into the office this day. The subject’s words about David’s family had her look over to her assistant. “What’s he talking about? The one they missed?” Not liking the way Caine was pressing his hands against the glass, reminding her all too much of how he’d behaved before he shattered the mirror the previous day, she slowly moved towards the door. “I… might need a word with you David. In private.” In reality, her feet were itching to get out of the room. @Vox (edited)

He blocked sight as he followed to leave, he shut the door behind him. "I-I'm sorry I got too stressed just sitting there. I had to make sure you were alright." He suddenly babbled out, rubbing his face, braid coming loose in whisps. David's face was blank, staring straight forwards holding his hair. "Y-you remember when I said he escaped to kill a specific doctor?" He said softly, sinking into a chair in the hall. Realizing his stress he brought in a breath and let it out before he continued. "We... we got married. She was pregnant with our second child when Caine escaped. He was upset with me so he went after her but he didn't know she was pregnant. My son survived and I think it urks him..." David explained gently, head hanging. "I can't let him hurt anyone else. He can't ruin anyone else's life. Not while I'm alive." Daniel made a motion to express the point, voice wavering. He'd sat in the lobby twisting his hands and stressing the entire conversation, the memories welled behind his eyes. So much blood... "So please just.... be careful." Daniel looked up, eyes welled with emotion. Hope they could make up for the lives Caine had ruined. What he'd taken away. @ShadowCat

Jennifer listened to David’s account of his history with subject 89, silently and with empathy in her blue eyes. She slowly moved to sit in the chair next to him, folding her hands slightly over the thighs and exhaling softly at the unwelcome images in her mind. To think that Caine had hunted this doctor, over a dispute with him… The uncomfortable nausea that spreads in her guts rolls and coils like a snake, slithering around her very spine and up her chest. “David…” she hated how insensitive she was about to sound, how hurtful her next question was going to be. Yet it needed to be done. It was a question that should have been asked long ago. His professional integrity had been jeopardized. “Why are you still working with subject 89? I understand your need to ensure he doesn’t harm anyone like that again, but that is your trauma talking. What of your professional objectivity?” She looked sideways at him, turning her upper body so she was facing him more evenly. Jennifer spoke slowly and softly. “Subject 89 is dangerous. I know that. But I also have a job to do, and you barging in to interrupt a session where I am making progress is only hurting both our jobs. And it is clearly antagonizing the subject as well.” She had not seen David’s resumé and didn’t know what other subjects he had worked on, but what he was telling her now made it clear he could not continue working with the murderer of his family. He was personally invested, too involved and too attached to the subject. Survivor’s guilt aside, David clearly felt he had a responsibility for subject 89’s behavior. It was even possible that subject 89 was reinforcing this misconception, holding everyone but himself accountable for his actions. What she had learned of him during their short conversations certainly suggested as much. “We’ll speak with HR. See if you can be reassigned.” @Vox

"God you still think the foundation cares? They don't give a damn about what we need. They want these things kept inside and physical proof of their value. They don't give a damn if it finds remorse in its history nor if we are safe working with it." He wiped his eyes on a sleeve letting out a breath. "Fuck I need therapy again." He noted, mostly to himself, as he walked back into the office ignoring anything Jennifer had tried to say. He knew he was inept, that he was too close to Caine. The bastard had put his back to the wall too many times. All he needed was one excuse. One shed of proof the thing was too dangerous to keep around and if it had to be him who pushed until it snapped again so be it. In the office he noted Caine crashed out asleep on his cot, the caffeine crash shutting him down. The temptation to wake him was there but he'd already ruined enough today. Both of them were angry with him. He silently organized his desk once again, touched his wife's picture, then started on the information returning from the lab. @ShadowCat

She wasn’t angry. Not at first. All she could feel was a numbness over being unable to help her assistant. But that all changed when he brashly refuted her suggestion and then proceeded to blatantly ignore her. Jennifer rose from her chair as he stood, watching him disappear back into the office. She glowered at the closed door and then took to pacing the lobby. Could it be possible David was just saying that to ensure he would stay on this case? Or had perhaps subject 89 somehow manipulated David into the idea that he needed to always keep watch over him? Whatever the reason and not accounting for whether the Foundation cared or not, Jennifer refused to take David’s words at face value. She steeled herself and marched into the office after him, seating herself at her desk and pulling up the report forms to HR. If they truly did not care, then she would hear it from them personally -or see it in black and white at the very least. She typed in a quick summary of today’s conversation with Subject 89, in addition to David’s interruption and then the following conversation between herself and David. Stressing her worry about his integrity and whether he could be trusted to work so closely with a man he clearly had a grudge towards, Jennifer worder herself professionally and without emotion. Then she hit ‘send’ on her screen and sighed. She didn’t like doing this, but it was necessary. Looking over to her assistant, her shoulders dropped a little and her face softened. “What’s in the blood reports?”

06:40

@Vox

"He can't process caffeine so hes basically boiling himself to run it off. Which is exhausting considering." He gestured to the cell and sleeping Caine. "He's making the same acidic chemical he uses when he...." he wiggled his fingers out to the side like tentacles, "the red goo shit. He's pumped his body full of it trying to get rid of the caffeine." He said lightly, voice soft as if high sound would break out into another fight. "We've already found he only runs off basic chemical compounds. He can't make white blood cells or plasma on his own which requires his intake of blood." David looked up as his tablet pinged from HR. "Told you they don't care." He tsked softly in annoyance. "Dear Daniel, please follow your lead investigators commands and requests or we will have to take further action. Don't forget to pick up your son from daycare." He looked over the edge of his tablet eyebrows raised. "Nice try." @ShadowCat

Jennifer did not bat an eye at David’s clear annoyance, instead calmly leaning forward to look him square in the eyes as he read out loud what was presumably HR’s message to him. She was sympathetic to his plight, she truly was. But she also had a reputation and a job to look after in this place. If this job failed - if the Foundation found her inadequate… They might dispose of her in ways Jennifer would rather not think about. What hurt her the most about this situation was that despite having known him for only a day and a half, she already liked David. And she was new here, very much in need of someone in her own corner while she familiarized herself with their subject as well as the Foundation as a whole. “What do you think that message means?” she asked him calmly, giving his tablet a nod. “Because from where I’m sitting it sounds like you just got orders to follow my lead. That means if I ask you to not intervene, you will not intervene. I need to trust that you will do what’s in the best interest of our work here. I need to trust you will not let your past with subject 89 cloud your judgement.” Her eyes involuntarily drifted to the picture on his desk. The picture of his family. A lump formed in her throat, knowing with every bone in her body she would not have been able to act professionally around the murderer of her sister. The police had called it a tragic car accident with many cars involved and many fatalities. Even her parents leaned on that explanation. But Jennifer knew differently. She sighed and turned to the monitor on her desk again, pulling up the reports of the blood samples. “Let’s just get back to work.” @Vox

"I'm aware he's sick. But it's like faulting a lion for killing in its nature." He explained lightly. "I apologize for my brash behavior it will not happen again." He said softly, setting down his tablet. "Once he regulates we can give him another chemical to try. He might be adverse to the concept though after the caffeine stint." He huffed pushing up. "You want lunch? I have my car and time to waste so. We're a bit at Caine's mercy..." he crossed his arms. "I'll go pick it up for us." He offered, smiling softly.

He kept his back to the window, eyes swimming from the chemical crash. Swallowing down his nausea he tried to sleep and failed. Why am I putting myself through this shit again? Other than if I say no they'll force it and that's just... worse. Everything hurts more that way. She got me talking though. Which was a nice change. It's nice to not just have these memories to myself. He curled up his legs, laying on a hard fabric cot like he had all those years ago. If he concentrated he was sure he could hear the footsteps in the house above him, the old building creaking in the wind. "Music on. Mozart." He called out lightly, hearing the quiet sounds. He'd looked all through that music list and the only three he knew were Mozart, Beethovan, and Bach. Though he couldn't bring himself to listen to Bach now.

16:42

@ShadowCat

Glad some of the tension had left the air, Jennifer dug her hand into her shoulderbag next to her desk and fished out a wallet. Lunch did sound good. She had not had the time to eat before she left her apartment this morning, running late as she was. Retrieving a 20-dollar bill from her wallet, she handed it over to David with a slight nod. “Sure. Get me a cheese Gnocchi, will you? With garlic bread on the side.” Turning to the window, Jennifer cocked her head at the subject still being awake and his command for music. He sure has a peculiar taste, she mused and looked through the list of music available to him. Almost unlimited. With a questioning look she turned to David again. “Why Mozart?” Deciding to do a small test and observe his reaction, instead of Mozart she pulled up a famous piece of Frédéric Chopin; Nocturnal in E flat major. Shortly after, the slow languid tunes of piano music filled the subject’s cell and she leaned back to watch. @Vox

"Would you rather music from this Era?" He shrugged pulling on his coat. "I'd assume he doesn't know much else." He guessed as he picked up his keys.

He sighed softly at the change. New and different. He wanted his patterns. He closed his eyes stretching out his arms palms up. Feeling the electrical wires beneath the floors. In the wall. The computers locked behind silver. It was easy enough to use the computer inside his cell, though it was tiring. Her music choice skipped than sputtered to a stop as his new choice loaded. The video loaded up inside her office as David stepped out. A song that came out a year ago, based off some show he'd never seen but he adored the sound of. Rapid english rap half way through was joined by Japanese rap, all of which he mouthed the words to. The images were black and white, accented with red lyric texts. "Amen to Judas/ In this world, Laws have no power/ of course power is determined by force." He looked over lazily. Her forcing of similar music suddenly made him feel... exposed. Like she was questioning what choices he made. Though she's doing that already why do I care? he sighed softly. "Music off." He barked letting the sound die out to echoing quiet.

11:40

@ShadowCat

After David had left to get them lunch, Jennifer stood from her chair and walked over to the glass. She crossed her arms, leaning her hip slightly against the glass so she was looking at the subject sideways. Standing there for many seconds, observing his behavior, how he reached his hands into the air. One eyebrow raised slightly as the piano music stopped and was soon replaced with… something entirely different. Ability to control electric equipment… She'd already known he could manipulate cameras or override the security doors. But specifically changing music was new. It made her wonder what else he could do. "Caine…" she began, her voice low and not spoken through a microphone. She kept her eyes on him to see if he heard her. If he did, she'd only smile before she continued. "It says in your files you have met other… subjects within this facility. Are they someone you know from before, or you met here? Are there anyone you particularly like" He was an isolated individual with no meaningful interaction outside of the interviews with the investigators and staff. She'd seen what that could do to a person, seen it too many times. David thought of him as sick, but subject 89 was anything but that. He had shown narcissistic traits. Traits of sociopathy, no remorse of regard for other humans' feelings or life. But perhaps he lacked those morally correct skills simply because he had never learned them. "If you could have a conversation with someone that wasn't staff here. Who would you wish to speak with? And what would you want to talk about? Anything at all." @Vox

"I miss 40. 201. Forty is a parasitic entity, much like myself. But he has removed himself from humanity in its entirety. 201 is an indestructible automaton. It lets me fight." He sat up legs swung off the cot. "And I cannot harm it." He considered forty his elder, similar enough that he felt kindred in a way he didn't have with humans. He didn't know where he stood. Forty seemed a God to him, a perfected version of one's species. "Why do you ask? Merely to use the knowledge against me?" He snorted softly rubbing his eye with the butt of his hand. He knew she had tested him on weather he could understand. He could read lips immensely well. He could read people in general well. The way their breath hitched in their chest. The stance they took when comfortable or not. He swallowed as images rose behind his eyes and blinked them away. He wanted her nearby. He wanted to feel her in his hands. His fingers crunched into fists on his knees. @ShadowCat

Remaining where she was, still leaning slightly on the glass and looking at him, half a smile lingered on her lips at his response. It was clear he respected someone invulnerable to his powers, someone possibly more powerful than himself. She cocked her head slightly at his question dripping with distrust. Something uncomfortable lurked in her chest at that, a feeling of failure, that she wasn't good enough for him to trust. It's your second day, Jen. Give him time. "I'm asking because this place and everyone in it is mostly filled with people you didn't choose. And from what little you have shared of your childhood, you didn't get to choose them either. All your life, Caine, you have been surrounded by people that you had no say in whether you wanted them around you or not." Shifting her stance a little so she could look at the monitor displaying his vitals, she sighed. They were calm and within normal parameters. "So I'll ask again. Who would you choose? What would you speak with them about? What would you do?" @Vox

"Neither speak... I would choose not to talk. To be with them is all I'd want." He explained, watching her with the same thoughts. Inadequacy. Someone who he didn't deserve their trust. He distracted himself with the thoughts of forty. The way he carried himself. Forty was allowed to go into the field, a psychologist in his life before his mutation took over his body. A champion of self evolution and perfection. His heart rate accelerated as he fell back onto his cot huffing. "I'd do anything to spend time with forty again." He looked over. "Even deal with the damned chemicals." He gestured to his arm lightly. "He is... everything."

He came back with lunch, setting it down on her table and knocking on Caine's window. He had a grocery bag over his arm. "Caine do you want steak? I bought a package it was cheap." He held up the Styrofoam packaging. She'd never seen Caine move so quickly to the drawer, yanking it open once he could get his fingers over the edge. He tore open the plastic with his teeth, nails sunk into the piece. He kicked up his cot on its side, hiding behind it to eat. "Since we'll be taking so much blood, figured he'd like the treat." Daniel sunk into his seat, popping the plastic on his pasta bowl.

Most of the day was slow. Watching the subject burn off caffeine and doing general paperwork. The work was generic assistance, the foundation being a general biology lab for testing medication on the surface. When they did leave for the night the subject was asleep, having stripped off his shirt to sleep peacefully. David waved goodnight to his superior and headed for the internal daycare to pick up his toddler son, promises of ice cream being made. Angel was a celebration of life. A refreshing breath of joy in David's eyes.

He blinked as he heard the doors shut and lock, sitting up with a smile. The Styrofoam tray was wedged into the meal drawer, leaving a small enough gap for him to get his fingers into. The skin above his spine split like overripe fruit, spilling blood and tendrils. Filaments full of nerves and strong acid. He wrapped his body tight, pushing out enough to burn his skin clean off. This was a time of reflection, of communion with ones own self. It was hard to keep an identity if one could not remember their own face. He didn't even feel the burn anymore being a necessity to remake himself. The blood in his tendrils soothed the pain in fresh skin, still sore and fragile, and he pulled them back into his body. The hair like filaments slid into his spine, leaving him sitting a different man. He looked in the glass at his reflection, pads of his fingers examining his face. Sadly the eyes couldn't change.... Still yellow. He sighed and slid his fingers into the edge of the metal drawer and using the force he could muster, yanked it to its farthest point on the track. It took several tries before he got the box yanked off its rollers. He bent the metal back into place as well as he could, setting it in reach, and pushed himself through the small gap into the office. Fumbling in the dark he grabbed a spare white coat, tugging it on first inside out then the right way. Pulling up a chair to his cell controls he turned off any cameras inside, unsure of remote access to the system, and settled to wait.

I want her. I'm done waiting. he spun slightly in his chair, fingers trailing over her chair. She's mine. She's the only one who understands.... he set his head back letting out a breath. You're too impulsive Caine. Forty would always tell him. These things require patience. We will live beyond it all.... "You might. I'm not sitting around to test that theory of yours." He sighed, chewing his lip until it bled. When the computer registered his high heart rate he remembered the implant and dug his nails into his chest, flicking off the metal disc and blood.

He walked in the next morning with his son in his arms. He'd promised to show his office, so he headed that way. Outside the door he set down Angel to sign in. His son eagerly passed and he followed right into a headlock. David choked, digging his hands into the arm cutting off his air. He reached for his screaming son, his tear stained face blurry in his eyes.

He dropped David huffing from the effort and bent holding out a hand. "Its alright. You need to get into the closet now okay? Just for a little while." He reassured picking the boy up setting him down into the coat cupboard. Taking Davids badge he manually opened the door, tipping up his cot and setting David's corpse behind it. Stripping off David's clothes he popped in the buttons smoothing the shirt before taking his boots and tugged them on sitting down to continue to wait. God I hope she's not late. he huffed, sliding a tranquilizer gun into his slacks pocket. He spent the next half hour trying to copy David's voice, perfecting the look of both the cell and office. He returned the meal drawer to its space as best he could, relocked the cell... obsessing over everything. I'm David. Stand like David it's fine... she'll be inside before she can notice...

15:08

@ShadowCat

During her drive home, Jennifer impulsively stopped by the liquor store and bought herself two more bottles of wine. One rosé and one white. I may have a problem, she scolded herself, carrying the bag with the two bottles up to her apartment along with a paper bag of Asian takeaway food. Two nights in a row, Jen? Really? Ignoring the pestering voice of her consciousness that somehow always took the voice of her mother, she sat the bags down on her kitchen table, popping one bottle open right away and filling her glass. Then she ate, the solitude around her creeping into her very bones as she drank her wine and ate alone in a slightly cold apartment. This is nothing, she tried to remind herself, thinking about the absolute isolation her subject was in, 24 hours a day, every single day, for gods knows how many years. With only researchers, doctors and nosy scientists to keep him company, poking and prodding and feeding him chemicals just for the heck of it to log his reaction. The very idea had the food swell in her mouth and she pushed it away, taking a big mouthful of the wine instead. Don’t feel sorry for him. Pulling her long hair loose from the bun at the back of her head, she let the long thick waves fall down her back while she used her hands to shake some air into it. She sighed deeply before she grabbed the wine and moved to sit on the couch. Jennifer fell asleep there, yet another mostly empty bottle sitting on the table next to her phone and her work tablet. The tv was on, showing some uninteresting show that she had not paid any attention to. She was fast asleep by the time the cameras in Subject 89’s cell switched off and his vitals went dark. Rapidly flashing lights again. The screams, deep and guttural and metallic and inhuman. Painful screams, screams of agony, despair and raw white rage. Jennifer tried to mute them, tried to close her eyes so she wouldn’t see…. But the dull eyes of her older sister kept staring at her.

17:44

Jennifer tossed and turned on the couch, groaning, trying to force herself out of what she knew was a dream. Another nightmare. But her inner child in the dream was too scared to feel the couch underneath her body, too afraid to acknowledge the reality she’d wake up to. Olivia gone. Mom gone. Dad… somewhere out there and no longer in touch with his family. Lightning struck around her, pure chaos given form and meaning. A ringing sound mixed with all the horrible sounds around her, rhythmic and out of place. The song of a phone. Jennifer awoke with a startle, turning the alarm on her phone off while panting as if she’d run a marathon. Her skin was clammy, hot and cold at the same time. “At least I didn’t oversleep again,” she muttered silently to herself, voice hoarse from the sounds she’d probably made in her sleep. She rose from the couch and cleaned away the bottle and the leftover Asian food, throwing it in the trash before she dragged her tired ass off to the bathroom. One hour later she entered the Foundation research facility, wearing her perfectly fitted and neutral black suit. Her long, blonde hair had been pulled up into that boring but practical bun, glasses placed upon the bridge of her nose. She scanned her id-card to gain access deeper into the compound, eventually reaching the wing where subject 89 was being held. Her shoulder bag was hanging correctly off her shoulder.

17:44

“Good morning, David.” She was precisely on time when she opened the door to their office and seeing David there. Jennifer barely looked at her assistant as she slung her bag onto her desk and began unpacking it, neatly setting her notebook, tablet, and phone next to each other just how she liked it. “How’s subject 89 doing today?” she asked, looking towards the glass to his cell and frowning as she saw the bed was still toppled over. “Did he sleep on the floor?” She had not yet looked too closely at David, and not yet put her white lab coat on. Distracted by the state of Caine’s cell, she approached the monitor and keyboard that controlled most of the electronics in there. She clicked the cameras on, her frown going at little deeper when they refused to respond. Blue eyes soon darted to the monitor showing his vitals and her face paled. Every single vital sign was flat and dead. “What happened?” she barked, immediately moving towards the alarm button to call for security backup. @Vox (edited)

He pushed the tip of the tranq gun to the back of her shoulder where it wouldn't impact bone. "Don't move. I don't want to hurt you." He ordered, gently tucking to her back opposite hand wrapping over her arm to pull it away from the button. "But I will if I must..." he warned, breath hot on the side of her neck. He smelled like coppery blood, his arm covered in scratches that were rapidly closing before her eyes. "Sit down." He ordered putting legs to the butt of a chair for her to drop into. He held out a palm, "Car keys. Now." He ordered, flexing his fingers to emphasize his point. "And cell phone." He added after. When David's son audibly cried in the cupboard he gently kicked it and the child fell quiet. His yellow eyes focused on her face, shaking hand making the tranq gun rattle. He was terrified, heart pounding in his throat. "Dont make me hurt you. I want to go outside. You're going to take me." He ordered, sweat dripping off his chin. @ShadowCat

She froze. A cold shiver of absolute dread running down her spine and making the hairs on her body stand. That voice… It was David's voice, but it was wrong, deeper, more menacing. Jennifer stood there like a petrified statue for many seconds, watching robotically while his hand moved hers away from the alarm button. It's not David…. The realization hit her as if a bull had kicked her in the guts, breath leaving her in a hard exhale that threatened to scream. Subject 89 had impersonated someone before… "Caine?" she stuttered, voice hoarse and braking. The sound of a child whimpering clutched at her heart. "W-who's in the closet?" She turned and sat mechanically upon his instruction, lifting her gaze to his face, dreading to look at him but doing so all the same. His eyes were wrong, yellow, tinted with desperation and madness. "Caine…" she repeated, trying to sound calm and unafraid but failing miserably. She noted how he was sweating, shaking, how the hand holding the tranquilizer gun was unsteady and finger shivering on the trigger. With her hands raised in surrender, she slowly moved one hand to her desk and shoved her phone across it towards him. "Where is David?" @Vox

"I crushed his throat. I didn't expect his son. I-i..." he stuttered over his words. "I didn't want to do that in front of his son. I dont like killing children." He tsked angrily at another sob and kicked the cupboard which only made the toddler cry louder. He tucked her phone in his pocket and held back out a hand for the keys. "David's probably already dead. He's been there for a half an hour and he hasn't moved. I was too worried to eat." He noted softly, trembling. He reached out barely skimming his fingers over her cheek, face one of adoration. His eyes then shifted to his fingertips as he pulled away from her as if astonished she was there. "I want to leave. You and me together away from this all." He gestured for her to get up. "We're leaving. And if you try to get anyone to stop us I'll kill you and everyone around us." He grabbed her arm, firm but careful like she was glass. But he dug the tranq gun into her back, hidden between them. There was no time to discuss, she was going and he didn't care what she tried to say to him. He pushed her forward for the door, pausing when the little boy yelled. "Daddy?" "Yes baby?" "Can I come out now?" "No baby. Stay in there until someone let's you out." Caine ordered then nudged her. "Lets go. Now." @ShadowCat

She couldn't help it. The fear was so powerful it physically hurt. Her blue eyes drifted slowly to the window of Caine's cell, seeing the feet sticking out slightly from behind the bed. A shocked and sudden exhale escaped her, mixing with a sob as she understood what had happened. Then she noted the deformed feeding hatch, understanding even more. Caine's cold hand brushing her cheek had her flinch as if he'd hit her, remembering the video logs and reports she'd read about his violent carnage in the past. Her body started shaking on its own account, and no matter how many deep breaths she tried to take to calm herself, it just didn't work. She gave him the keys, standing when he pulled her up, legs barely carrying her. "Please… Y-you don't have to do it like this. I can request an excursion for you. Let you meet your friend, Forty?" It didn't seem like anything she said was getting to him, being pulled along and then pushed ahead of him out the door. There was a minor consolation to find in the fact that he wasn't looking to harm the child. Jennifer barely had time to keep up with his push, the tranquilizer weapon prodding into her back. At such close range it would cause explosive damage much like any ordinary bullet. Hands trembling like leaves in the wind, she used her keycard on the first set of doors, watching them slide open for them. Don't agitate him more. He's… not eaten. Guards. The guards would notice them leaving. Both Jennifer and David leaving at the same time and together would hopefully rouse suspicion. Her blue eyes looked upwards at the security cameras, trying to convey a plea for help. @Vox

He was trembling, hand shaking against her. His breath was coming out in wobbly hisses as terrified as her. "They won't listen to my requests... I sent them again and again..." he mumbled voice wavering. "They won't let me outside I'll fucking do it myself." He nudged her forwards again. Any cameras they passed by clicked off then on behind them, Caine's pupils pinpricks as he focused. An alarm went off in the distance as he forced open Forties door. He could hear his friend tearing through his section, blasting through empty offices and cleared cells. Forties section was always closed when he was in facility. Itd draw the attention away. His grip lessened as he exhausted himself, leaning into her dragging his feet. The last bit he had sent a message to the daycare to fetch the boy in the office. His head lolled as he dragged himself out the front door. "W-wheres the car..." @ShadowCat

The sounds of absolute chaos behind them had her heart shift into a new, even more petrified gear. It thundered in her chest and every breath almost hurt with how she was forcing the air into her lungs so she wouldn't hyperventilate. She noticed how Caine's voice began slurring, how his weight leaned heavier on her. As soon as they stepped out into daylight, Jennifer made a silent prayer before she took a quick and decisive step away from the man. She faced him and backed quickly away. With how exhausted he was, he looked like he could barely stand without her support. "Caine… You're not well. This alone has drained you. How are you going to make it out there, huh? What are you planning to do? Run for the rest of your life? Feed off unsuspecting civilians or homeless people? Think, Caine!" The more she spoke, the more steps she backed away, feeling just a slight bit less afraid. Her eyes shone of genuine concern for him. For the consequences of this. Concern for herself and what would happen when the Foundation HQ realized she'd let her guard down and allowed this to happen. @Vox

"Don't." He said simply aiming the tranq gun panting. He tasted blood in his mouth. Itd been a long time since he'd pushed so far. His teeth were stained red. "Dont make me shoot you. I'm in such a good mood." He begged softly, "Please. I just. Need you. And without me, they'll hunt you too." He followed her, holding his stomach. "If you leave me, you're killing me." He whimpered. Red spilled over his lashes and down his cheek. I... I'm crying? he smeared his cheek and stared at it in disbelief. Shuffling forwards, tranq gun aimed firmly at her, he looked up as someone yelled for David. He looked over red down his cheeks. A soldier was aiming a rifle at him and adrenaline blasted through him. He re-aimed, the tranq hitting the soldier in the crook of his armpit in an opening of his armor. He dropped the now useless gun, walking for her again. "Dont fight me anymore." He half ordered half begged. "I can help you."

19:29

@ShadowCat

She stared at Caine with wide, almost wild eyes when he approached her, blood seemingly seeping out of his mouth and eyes. He looked so, scared, desperate and begging it hurt her chest. Yet she knew how dangerous he could be, how remorseless he was, how utterly unprepared he would be for the world outside. Her breaths shaking, she put a hand up to try and calm him, startling hard when he shot the guard so effortlessly. “Please… Caine….” She begged in return, not wanting to admit that he had a point. What he had started here would end badly for them both. She couldn’t tell if the blood rolling down his cheeks was from the strain he was putting himself under, or genuine tears. On the brink of crying herself, she swallowed thickly and blinked the stinging sensation out of her eyes. “Please… I am n-not fighting you. W-where would we even go?” she asked in an attempt to make him think this through. Meanwhile, two other guards came crashing through the doors to the research facility, aiming automated rifles towards them. Jennifer couldn’t help noticing they were not just aiming at the escaped subject, but her as well. This time tears for real escaped her eyes, certain she was done for. @Vox

He quickly grabbed her around the waist, a wall of red blocking sight. Thin white lines ran through it like veins in a flower, the bullets plugging into Caine's back as he protected her. He hauled her off her feet, teeth grit as he heard them load further bullets. Shoving her into her car he slid into the back seat. "Drive now. Unless you want to die." He barked, panting as he tried to keep down. At the gate he forced it open only for the guard to hold it shut. Caine tsked trying to push up in the seat. Black smoke rocketed past the car into the guard box darkening the inside, before pulling together into a solid form. It opened the gate from inside the guard box, turning to look at the car. "Forty! Come with us!" Caine yelled rolling down the window to reach for the form. It gently put out its hand to acknowledge him, before bending to look into her window. It formed a skull like a dog, black teeth fit together in a puzzle. The rest of it formed a human body. Gently he held out a USB, labeled with the date of that day. Forty gestured them on without a word nor expression, before turning back to the facility to go home.... @ShadowCat

Everything happened so fast, Jennifer hardly had time to register it all. When Caine pushed her rather violently into the car and ordered her to drive a survival instinct she had not encountered often kicked in and the engine reared and accelerated into movement. She couldn’t breathe, gasping in panicked huffs that escalated into a petrified sound as the blackened shadow propelled past them. She heard Caine’s voice and blinked many times in confusion. This is Forty? She reeled back in the driver’s seat when the shadowy figure handed her the usb drive, taking it from his shapeless hand with a shivering hand of her own. When he waved them on, Jennifer’s foot hit the pedal hard and the car sped away from the facility. Her car was by no means a sports car or a fancy model. The sturdy white little Civic hatchback had been a reliable vehicle for a couple of years now, and this time it got its limits pushed. As Jennifer maneuvered it as fast as she could along the winding roads leading towards the city, she glanced behind her to Caine in the back seat. He’s used… his body? to shield them from the bullets. Morphing ability. “Are you alright?” she asked, not sure she should care, but caring none the less. The panic of it all was still very much present in both her mind and body, and she had to concentrate hard not to let it affect her driving too much. “D-do you need medical help?” Where would she even take him? A hospital? Out of the question. “FUCK!” she punched the steering wheel hard and almost succumbed to tears again, biting her bottom lip until it bled so she wouldn’t. @Vox

"C-calm down. Stop the car at the rest stop." He held his shoulder, wincing laying on his back in the seat. After a few seconds she could hear him mumbling. Over and over. "I'm sorry. Fuck I'm sorry. Fuck this is my fault. I'm sorry. Shit..." he thumped his head back into the seat trembling. "I-i promise that I won't let them hurt you. No one will ever hurt you." He promised gently, watching her. She helped me... she did. She came with me and she's mine. Mine to keep safe and to hold and to keep.... he let out a happy sigh, wishing she wouldn't cry. This was a day of freedom. He opened his eyes to stare at the sky he could see through the window, tears of blood streaking down his face. Outside. I'm outside..... He still looked like David he realized, seeing his face in the window when they hit a spot of shade. "A... motel. Or hotel. Somewhere we can stay. I need to heal my body and you need to rest..." he said softly, gentle, trying to care for her. He did care... "They won't come after us right away. Not with forty out. He's the bigger problem. And if he gave a USB he's planned ahead for this." He said softly then realized he should explain. "Forty can see potential possibilities. The futures that are possible following major events. But only if he is involved. So he acts as much as possible to see as much as he can. He has no solid body anymore he just.... is. But he records possibilities to share his knowledge to those he may affect, hence the USB." He coughed again ignoring the blood in his mouth.

21:16

@ShadowCat

Spotting a truck rest stop, Jennifer thew the car into the slowdown lane rather brutally, turning into the -thankfully empty- rest stop and hitting the breaks hard enough to jerk both herself and Caine forward in their seats. Shutting off the engine, she practically kicked the door open and stumbled out of the car. She can’t stop shaking, can’t stop hyperventilating. The cooler outside air feels good on her skin, but she’s too afraid and angry to appreciate it. Her stomach makes a violent flip, and she hurries over to a cluster of bushes, emptying the contents of her breakfast into it. For some inexplicable reason, it helps. Heaving for her breaths, she wipes her mouth and straightens enough to tilt her head back. Slow…. Inhale… exhale…. One… two… three… You can do this. You’re alive. You’ll be fine. Feeling just a little bit calmer, she turns to look at the car, searching for Caine. That creature, his friend, had helped them. He’d known this would happen then? How? Had Caine planned it? For how long? Too many questions rose to the forefront of her mind, and she shook her head to try and silence them. Now was not the time. With no protective wall or glass to separate her from the subject, she’d have to be careful. She walked back to the car and leaned on it, trying to think. “Motel?” she almost laughs. “I don’t have any cash. You dragged me out of there without my wallet.” @Vox

He was stretched out in the back seat, too exhausted to pull back in his tendrils. White filaments like string kver the seats. "Bank account number: 46Y401-20143. Credit card 325-4501-348 with back code 345." He rattled off lazily, barely able to keep his eyes open. "Bank of America card. It's Forties. He told me it once." He said softly. He looked like hell, covering her back seat with blood and coating his face. He looked at her so differently than he had inside. He was calm, even as ripped up as he was. He didn't feel the need to establish territory because... no one wanted him dead necessarily. He wasn't faced down with the blatant statement of his captivity. He could go where he wanted when and he had her with him. "I won't hurt you. Ever." He promised, eyes soft.

21:33

@ShadowCat

Looking at Caine, she bit her lip and tried very hard not to feel sorry for him. The change in his attitude could the credited to his sudden freedom. Or perhaps he was too weak from blood loss to maintain a front. Or perhaps he was genuine. She shook her head. “How do I help you? You’re bleeding out. I may be a doctor, but I’m not a surgeon. I don’t know how to… how to fix you.” Getting into the car again and closing the door, she started the engine and pressed the button to roll down the window above his head. If nothing else, the air would hopefully help him stay conscious. Maybe. She placed both hands on the steering wheel, thinking for a few seconds. “There’s a motel on the outskirts of the city. We can take a few backroads to get there. The freeway will be too trafficked and have too many security cameras.” She gave him a look in the inner mirror, as if she expected him to have an opinion about it. Yet she did not wait for an answer and set the car into drive, pulling out of the rest stop. The drive would take then about an hour. Jennifer could only hope Caine would not bleed out during that time. @Vox

"I'm fine. I just need to sleep." He said softly. At the fresh air he smiled closing his eyes to the wind. At the motel he'd closed his wounds, pulling what blood he'd lost back in beneath his skin. He rubbed his face on the coat stumbling out of the car. His filaments looked like spinal nerves, thin white and barely covered with red denoting his health. He pulled them into his back then followed Jennifer, smiling ear to ear. Leading the way in he bought the room with his memorized card info, then lead to the room hopping down the hall happily. Immediately he went to the bathroom to shower and when he came back he was himself and clean. Sinking to the end of the bed just in pants he stared at his bare toes unsure what to say. "I... I'm sorry I never fully explained. If I did you would've reported me. I was worried if I left they'd wipe your memory or... hurt you and." He bent grabbing his hair. Impulsive, idiotic fool. At the intrusive thoughts in his head he yanked his nails down his arm to break out the cycle. "I'm sorry." @ShadowCat

As soon as they were checked into the motel room and Caine had disappeared into the shower, Jennifer had her meltdown. She leaned on the closed door to the outside and sank down to sit, pulling her knees up. There, she allowed all her fears, tears, shock and frustration to flow freely. She clung to her own knees and huddled into a position where she could try to protect herself from all that had happened. But she couldn't, and that fact had her sob softly through shaking breaths. Pull it together, she ordered herself, the inner voice scolding her like her mom would. He can't see you like this. Don't show weakness. But no matter how hard she tried to control it, it just would not relent. It wasn't until she heard the shower turn off that Jennifer inhaled hard, fast, wiping her tears while she swallowed her fears. When Caine emerged from the bathroom looking far better and like himself again, she collected herself off the floor. His insecurities weren't lost on her, but right at that time Jennifer was done being a sympathetic doctor. He'd done this to her, ruined her career, life, maybe even her very being. While he spoke, she began opening and closing the cupboards and closets, frantically searching for something to numb herself with. "No minibar?" she grumbled moving to the window to spy out between the curtains. There was a small convenience store not far away, but she had no cash. She turned and looked at Caine, her stomach dropping in unbidden empathy. He was worried for her? Well good! Because so was she. Yet her rage was mellow and she moved to sit in the one chair in the room, taking her glasses off so she could rub the bridge of her nose. "Now what, Caine? What do we do now? It's only a matter of time before they find us. They know my car. And I'm pretty sure they can track my phone."

@Vox

"They won't. The foundation will leave us be unless I start causing trouble. They expect this. It is.... an unplanned field trip..." he said gently trying to reassure her. The foundation lacked good doctors, anytime they found one they'd do damn anything to keep them. "They know I won't hurt you... but they won't stress me either. They'll only observe and slowly try to sneak like rats." He tsked crossing his arms like he was pouting about the fact their vacation may end. He rolled to pick up a pillow, squishing it in his hands. "We can go where we please. I can way what I want without them logging everything away...." he looked over lightly. "Anything you wish to do or ask..." sitting up with the pillow in his lap, he looked akin to a puppy. Eager to please. Wanting her to be happier with him. Her phone pinged in his pocket and he blinked, holding it out to her. "Here. I'm sorry I had to take it." He said gently, keeping it extended out. "I can also link Fourty's USB to display on your phone." He said gently, trying to be useful.

This is Isaac Emberlain ID tag 4O Pj7nK8. I will be keeping an eye on you, stepping in when it is safe and beneficial to do so.

@ShadowCat

With her glasses off, Jennifer could barely see Caine where he sat on the bed. She gently folded them and placed them in her lap, battling an ever-present anxiety over the situation he'd put them in. She refrained from squinting at him, content in watching the blurred outline of his form as he shifted on the bed, hugging a pillow. Perhaps he would notice exactly how bad her eyesight was from her lack of focus, perhaps he wouldn't. He's a child, she realized - the conflict of what that meant stirring both anger, worry and disappointment inside her. When he handed her the phone, she put her glasses back on and read the message. The number wasn't known to her, but she saved it under Emberlain in her contacts. Quickly she typed out a response. Do not, under any circumstance, harm Subject 89. With a sigh, she put the phone on the bedside table. "Feel free to connect it to the USB drive. We might as well have a look at what your … friend, wanted us to see." Rising to stand, she dug through her pockets for a few seconds, coming up empty and with more disappointment. Could really use that drink. With no cash and nowhere to go at the current situation, Jennifer took to pacing the floor of the motel room. She was highly sensitive to every one of Caine's movements, his shifts, his voice, his general behavior. Like a bird trapped in a cage with a snake who tried to convince her he wasn't a carnivore, her blue eyes trailed to him every few seconds. "Where would you want to go, Caine? What would you want to share with me now that others can't hear you?" she asked, trying to keep his mind busy. @Vox

Caine silently took the USB and, using himself as a cord, touched the TV. The screen fizzled then pulled up an image. A blond man with brilliant blue eyes like diamonds.

Good Evening. This is Isaac Emberlain, Tag Forty Pj7nK8. I have made this recording to assist in the little excursion to be taking place and bring news. The secondary doctor assigned to Caines case that he used the face of to leave is alive. He is being placed into a civilian sector with his son, both without their memories of the situation. Secondly beneath the mattress on the left side is two thousand dollars cash. Beneath the bed wood of the frame on the right is a cache for Caine. This should be enough for the five days you are out. Please remain in contact with Caine at minimum as I do not trust his decision making.

Caine made a face at that.

Furthermore, I have provided a map and a list of addresses within the vicinity of the foundation, allowing for a bit of measured sightseeing that will be safe for both of you. Take care of yourselves and always may call or text me.

He pulled back from the TV, flipping the USB in his fingers as he went to the bed. He pried free the particle board from the bed frame and happily set eyes on a cooler. "I'd want.... to hug you. And to show you all the things I see. Sadly there isn't time for a trip to New Orleans if I only have five days..." he said softly. If Forty said it, it was truth. His word was fate and future to not be denied. He had never been wrong. He ate until his body no longer trembled like an elderly man, and his stomach felt full, leaning back against the bed. Should've asked Forty to see if she'd even let me touch her. I doubt it. At least he's alive. Makes me feel better. He always blamed me for her even when I didn't do it. he sighed stretching, whatever. At least him and the brat are okay. The civilian sectors are easy work with good pay... he absent-minded played with the cuff of his pants sitting on the floor.

03:57

@ShadowCat

Upon hearing that her colleague and assistant was alive, Jennifer exhaled hard in relief and sat back down on the chair. “Oh thank god…” Not God, but Caine. Actually no, fuck that. David wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place if it wasn’t for Caine. She grit her teeth, listening to the remaining of the video recording. Then she picked up her phone and changed the saved contact name from ‘Emerlain’ to ‘40’. She silently scolded herself for not making that connection on her own, slapping her own forehead. A shudder raked down her spine as Caine found the ‘cache’ stored away for him, rising from the bed to collect the cash this person had left for them under the mattress. Taking out a few bills and leaving the rest on the table, she looked at Caine while he ate and thumbed towards the door over her shoulder. “I’ll be… I’ll be out. I need some stuff.” Then she backed out of the motel room and turned with quick steps to leave the motel parking lot. She aimed for the small convenience store she’d spied through the window, her high heels clicking against the pavement as she walked with fast and slightly jagged steps. Paranoia crept up her spine and her blue eyes dashed around. The message that this ‘40’ person would be watching had set her on edge even more. Especially after seeing him back there, not human, and just… something out of nightmare. She would be a liar if she didn’t admit that she regretted all ger decisions that had led her here. That hypothetical paper she’d written and -regretfully- published had been the beginning of a spiraling downfall to everything going her way. Now she was stuck here with a cannibal lunatic who was more of a playful child than a rational man, and her life could be forfeit at any moment. Caine had shown he did not think his actions through, acting on impulse and out of curiosity. Something even this ‘40’ guy recognized and warned about.

04:40

Entering the small store, she browsed the aisles of food for a moment, but every thought about eating had her stomach churn with nauseated anxiety. Discarding the need for nutrition, she moved to the alcohol instead and picked herself a bottle of scotch. Something strong would suit her better. Tucking the bottle into a paper bag, she left the store just as fast as she’d entered it. She knew her behavior would look suspicious, acting like a criminal on the run the way she was constantly looking around her, but she could not help it. Only when she crossed the parking lot to the motel again did her steps slow, coming to a halt in front of the door. Jennifer’s hand had not yet reached the handle, and she paused there for many seconds. I can leave. Caine will be okay with his friend watching over him. Forty won’t let him come to harm, will he? I could just… leave… Her blue eyes trailed to the car parked at the side of the motel, biting her lip while the thought took root in her mind. @Vox

She saw images flick through her head like a roulette before clicking through two, both layered over each other. Caine ripping apart the building looking for her, killing anyone in his way. Fourty 'removing' her from the staff and Caine from life. He was a cull, a blade guiding the world. I don't advise it came through her phone, lighting up the screen. Forty leaned back in his seat fully, looking through his window of his office to stare at the sky. She'd be difficult to control if she was already trying to hop the paths. Even in sleep possibilities fluttered behind his eyes.

He waited for her to come back, swaying lightly in place. She won't leave us it's okay. he reminded himself curling up holding his feet, sitting like a child. She'll be back. He pulled a blanket up over his shoulders, staring at the inactive television, seeing himself in the reflection.

06:56

@ShadowCat

The vision was enough to startle her, making her jump back from the door. How? But then she read the message on her phone. How could he know? She typed out a reply, breathing steadily despite the panic curling under the surface of her skin. How dangerous is Caine to me? Then she pocketed the phone again and entered the motel room, finding Caine huddled in the floor, rocking himself. Again, the question arose in her mind of how he was even going to make it trough this without causing a disaster. He looked like he was tipping on the verge of breaking already. “Hi,” she said with a mellow voice, closing and locking the door behind her. Act calm, ask questions, engage him to remain calm. “Feeling better?” She sat down on the chair from before and uncorked the scotch bottle, filling a glass that had been standing there upside-down on a napkin. Sipping it, she looked towards the frail looking man, pondering. “Caine? Why would Forty help you out? Do you know?”

10:15

@Vox

He'd rather die than hurt you. He eagerly sat up when she came back smiling happily that she came back. At the question he blinked, "Forty thinks we are the same species. We can do similar things even though he focuses on a different area. He believes I am a juvenile form and wants to fully test since I came into my gift so young. He was over 100 years old before he could identify and control the flow of his visions and the form of his body. I was four." He talked quietly, open and calm. Happy and content to be out in the open. He got down onto the floor, and slowly, carefully and timid, crawled to sit by her feet. "May... I please touch your hand?" He said softly holding up his own hands, trembling softly. "Please?" @ShadowCat

Jennifer eyed him carefully as he approached her, trying her best to not flinch as he came to sit by her feet. It took almost all of her self control, for no matter how meek and sorry he looked, her mind refused to forget all the things she'd read about him. Forty's reassurance that he would not harm her was probably the only thing that kept her rooted in that moment. She set her glass down on the table, softly laying both her hands into his. A part of her empathetic humanity understood his need to connect. To feel someone alive. Subject 89 had been imprisoned for so long, the only touch he would know was one of violence and force. Her hands were small compared to his, yet he had a softness to his that spoke of years being idle. Sheltered from the elements and pale from the lack of sun. Even for a scientist and a doctor who spent most of her days pouring over papers, screens, logging numbers and charts, her hands were slightly more calloused than his. Watching his face, his yellow eyes closely, she tried to observe his reaction from an objective point of view. @Vox

The pads of his fingers skimmed the back of her hand exploring the feel of her skin. Purring softly he picked up her hand and put her palm to his forehead and hair, his own tucked over hers. His eyes closed lashes against his cheeks. His hands were scarred, trailing up his arms. Several thin scars tracked down his chest and stomach and she realized they followed the track of his arms in gentle curves. Self mutilation from his nails. He let go of her hand forehead set on her knee, near falling asleep. I just want her to be happy. he yawned, arms set over her legs, head on her knees. He'd do what she'd ask, if it meant she'd just show him a smidgen of a smile, a happy face. He was near falling asleep in her lap, soft breath audible.

12:10

@ShadowCat

This… was unexpected. Jennifer sat entirely still for many minutes, unsure of what to do, how to react, how to cope. He reminded her of a child in need of comforting, but at the same time everything else about him screamed for her to run. How was she supposed to stay professional when he kept sending these mixed signals and tugging at so different parts of her nature? Her hand slowly, very carefully, brushed over his head, fingers gently raking through it. Jennifer's professional assessment of Subject 89 was that he was traumatized, coping with mother issues from his childhood. She had been a totalitarian authority figure in his life, controlling and demanding. Was he seeing her that way too? It wasn't uncommon for patients to project such issues onto other authority figures in their lives. A doctor could very well be the representation of a parent. But she had no desire to parent him. If anything, she had taken this job to study and learn, because she knew that what had happened to her was real and not a figment of an overactive imagination. Olivia's death had not been caused by a car accident. "Caine…" she said with a lowered voice, still not moving while he rested his head on her knees. His hands over her legs were not restrictive, yet they could have weighed a tin with how utterly still she sat. "If you're tired, perhaps some sleep would do you good. You've had a long day." She moved her hand from his head to cover one of his, lifting it carefully. "How about you take the bed? I'll watch over you." @Vox

He groaned at being moved, rubbing his eyes on his arm. "I'll sleep in the bath. You can lock me in if you want. Then if you're worried I'm going to break out you can hear the door." He sighed softly and yawned again, his red tendrils already extending to cross his chest. His temporary fix had done him well but he needed the full night ideally. Pouting at being moved he shut the bathroom door settled and laying into the bath, the red covering over the top of him. He wrapped himself up tight, near immediately falling asleep in the bath. He left his face exposed to breath, his punctured lung from before making full breaths difficult when he was fully wrapped. It is unwise to pursue the accident. came through her phone, thinking ahead to what she could be planning. Forty watching her possibilities. @ShadowCat