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Post by Jonathon Orwell on Oct 2, 2011 23:04:54 GMT -5
*I listen to her rant and watch my wristwatch until she is done.* Finished? *I do not wait for her to answer but pull up a chair and sit backwards on it, resting my hands and chin on the back of it. I look at her, smiling, and in the nicest voice I can muster I say:* My dear. You seem to have a very wrong interpretation of Better Living Industries. We are not here to make your life horrible or kill you. No. We are here to make you BETTER. Perhaps the Battery City district has fucked things up so bad you do not even realize this. Our medication is supposed to exterminate any attachments or bad feelings towards anything. That includes people. If it is not affective: upgrade. You former fiance is no longer an issue. Charels... well he will be dealt with on our own terms. I am not asking you to work for us. If anything I want to make you better. Make you forget everything. Have a normal life as a normal citizen. Get married to a partner and help repopulate the world in a better form.
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Post by Kettu Jarva on Oct 2, 2011 23:12:46 GMT -5
*his entire speech makes me laugh* Tell me Mr. Orwell how many times have you practiced that speech? Ive heard many variations of it but yours yours sounds the most enticing... until you realize that its full of shit! you cant make someone completely forget the past or the scars that they have received. you cant drug someone enough to make them forget how someone they cared for tortured them by carving a tattoo out of their neck! But its useless talking to you how many drugs are you on? probably a whole cocktail of anti depressants and emotion suppressants... I know that chare is driving you slowly insane he even did that to his own brother. its understandable if you let me kill him... you can say that it was just me... being crazy...
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Post by Jonathon Orwell on Oct 2, 2011 23:18:58 GMT -5
*I actually laugh.* Hating and feeling are entirely different things dear. If any of the toxicologists could work up a good drug they would understand this. And no, you can not kill him. For one- *I point around the room* We under constant survallience. Two: I could easily find someone else to do it. Three: I am not stupid. In fact you are giving me a headache and I am very nearly close to letting Charels experiment on you more just to shut your mouth.
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Post by Kettu Jarva on Oct 2, 2011 23:22:55 GMT -5
so... let him... its not like I havent been through this before... I never said you were stupid Mr. Orwell... *I turn my attention to Charels* Remember when I was your boss chare I taught you almost everything I knew...
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Post by charelsmay on Oct 2, 2011 23:26:16 GMT -5
*I am now right by her cell* Oh and what didnt you teach me Enkeli? how to become obsolete? *I grab her arm and get it ready for the injection*
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Post by Jonathon Orwell on Oct 2, 2011 23:30:33 GMT -5
*I shrug. I would stop Charels but it really is no use. I will write him up later but for now I watch.*
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Post by Kettu Jarva on Oct 2, 2011 23:32:52 GMT -5
*I smirk* no chare *I smile as I feel the small glass vial of rattlesnake venom hit the palm of my other hand I bring it crashing down onto his hand it cuts his skin getting the venom in the wounds * I didnt teach you how to properly frisk any test subjects! *I start to laugh* have fun trying to find the anti!
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Post by Jonathon Orwell on Oct 2, 2011 23:49:44 GMT -5
*I let out a deep sigh, not surprised. I yank out my gun and stun the woman. She slumps automatically, falling to the floor, half unconscious. I pull out my radio.* We need medical personnel right away in a Mr. Charels May lab..... Yes. Send another toxicologist along as well. And a unit to escort a prisoner to a holding cell. This time she is to be heavily sedated and strapped down. If possible remove the metallic leg. Thank you and Have A Better Day. *I look at May with an eyebrow raised.* I warned you.
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Post by charelsmay on Oct 2, 2011 23:52:36 GMT -5
*lets out a long string of curses and falls to the ground*
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Post by Kettu Jarva on Oct 3, 2011 11:45:07 GMT -5
*I wake up several hours later in a different holding cell my metal leg is gone* well then... havent I dug myself into a deeper hole now... you really need to think things through kel....
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Post by rileywilson on Oct 3, 2011 12:21:25 GMT -5
*I take some time off my busy schedule to go see one of our frequent visitors. I don't really need to, but she's a fascinating example of how the big-wigs in BLI can really screw up, and I need all the information I can get. They turned down the lights in the cells to the creepy-murky setting today. Excellent*
*It is just my luck that she's awake*
I see they took your leg away this time. Good choice.
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Post by Kettu Jarva on Oct 3, 2011 12:23:43 GMT -5
I see they learn... after a while... *I smirk at him* so what's your name? I hope I wont get in too much trouble for what I did to chare... you cant tell me he wasnt asking for it you know... *Sarcasm is dripping from my voice*
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Post by Volume Virus on Oct 3, 2011 19:57:36 GMT -5
*As ordered, I head off to the medical department. They run a few tests on me, draw some blood, shine a light into my eyes a few times, and wonder over the scar in my hand. I have to explain with a grimace that I got a knife through my hand, and they keep me slightly late while they open the wound again (after putting me under anesthesia, of course) so they can properly heal it. After my wound is healed as per Better Living standards, I have a raised pink scar and a prescription for some heavy-duty medication, which I dutifully take. It makes me feel so very at peace that I can't remember why I never took the pills before. I'm set to meet with Mr. Orwell again to discuss something (possibly my future at BLI) at 14:00, but it's only 8:00, so I go home and get a few hours of blissful sleep.*
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Post by Jonathon Orwell on Oct 3, 2011 22:27:45 GMT -5
*As soon as the medics show up I leave, not caring to see if they stabilize Mr. May. Instead I make my way to my office. I suddenly realize I am quite exhausted and lay on my couch, reading a book left by the former owner of the room. It is a copy of 1984. A classic by any means. I smile as I read, both amazed by the success of Big Brother and their ill ways of dealing with the public. I mumble to myself.* It is all about control and medication...
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Post by rileywilson on Oct 4, 2011 0:03:20 GMT -5
*I wave my hand dismissively*
Orwell is dealing with him. As one of Kettu Jarva's proteges I just had to see his crazy baby sister. A shame, really. This is why I never started a family.
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Yes, I'm still running - sort of. But it is lonely out here. Haven't seen anyone else for a while.
//