The dinner announcement came as something utterly unexpected. Rather than Harrington's excited tones, the calm accented voice of the General drifted through the intercom speakers
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Usually, the escort team left her at the door. Taura was on edge as soon as two hulking soldiers stepped across the threshold, one of them almost her height; the other a good foot shorter, but also a foot wider, and very, very little of that was fat. Her golden eyes narrowed. "What's I-8?" she snarled, looking at each of them in turn.
It was the third one; the one in a medic's uniform, that answered. "That's strictly on a need-to-know basis." And you don't, he didn't even need to add.
"Then what are you still doing here?" They were flanking her now, and that wasn't good news. Brainwashing? Leaving?
"That I can tell you." Taura didn't like the smile that went with that one bit. It wasn't a sadistic. Sadism at least was a little personal. This was just competent. A job well done, A job well done that involved a syringe. Taura flinched, but four hands clamped down on her shoulders. "The General decided your cooperation wasn't necessary for this part of the study
( ... )
Meanwhile, Wichita... hadn't been so calm when she realized she was being cornered for some Nefarious Institute Shenanigans. Call it instinct, but whenever anything came after her, even just at a normal pace like the doctors or soldiers or whatever they were called were taking, she tended to get highly defensive. They made sure she couldn't actually fight, holding onto her shoulders and her upper-arms so tight she couldn't shake them, but that didn't mean she wouldn't yell and curse like it could possibly scare them away.
Which... failed, of course, but she tried.
She was too mad to notice anything the man was saying, then too distracted by the fact that she was getting injected with something and what the hell, this was bad. Bad was an understatement. It was the kind of thing she irrationally feared every time she visited the doctor back home. What was even worse was that they left without saying a word once the needle was out of her arm again, completely unphased by the fact that she just threw a temper tantrum the entire time
( ... )
Where're you from? It was still surprising to have that be an honest question, rather than a trap. People here couldn't look at her and have a predetermined opinion of everything from her diet (raw meat) to her morality (non-existent) to her price (low). None of which were even close to accurate.
She wasn't proud of being from Jackson's Whole. And she tried not to be ashamed of it. It just was, and she just was. Then again, the name wouldn't mean anything to Wichita. "Here and there. Dendarii Free Mercenaries, lately. I'm Taura."
Wichita was angry. Maybe she expected more of the same and less acceptance from her new roommate. Taura had learned not to be angry, whenever she could avoid it. When she couldn't, she turned it on herself. People had been so easy to hurt, and she liked to avoid doing so when they weren't trying to kill her.
'Here and there'? Damn. Did she manage to get paired up with a woman that had more trust issues than she did? She felt oddly comforted by the fact - at least she wouldn't have to worry about getting too sharey with her roommate. Taura. She could work with Taura.
"Nice to meet you." She sounded less offended at life, at least. Her arm itched a little, but beyond that she didn't feel any different. What was the point of an injection if it--? Ugh, nevermind. She didn't really want to know what the point was. 'Drug experiments', sure, maybe she'd end up flying high the rest of the night. She could definitely go for that.
But that was being optimistic. Which never really worked out for her. So she put it to rest.
"I'm guessing that's not a normal occurrence here? Or is it, and all of their drugs just suck?" Since nobody seemed to be acting literally crazy or drugged around here, as far as she could tell.
"First time it's happened to me here. Not the first time it's happened to me ever, yeah?" She grinned as she said it, though it wasn't funny, then or now. "I guess I should be glad it's the first time." She pretended to think about this.
"I'd rather shove the needle in their arms and see what it does. Experimental psychologists, feh!" The guys who'd just held her in place weren't the ones calling the shots, but they worked for them. There were always alternatives.
Granted, not always good ones, which was why she'd let them inject her without fighting too hard, but choices just took choosing. "So far, I don't feel any different. Still hungry, but that's not new." One thing stood out from Wichita's question. "Did you just get here?"
It was the third one; the one in a medic's uniform, that answered. "That's strictly on a need-to-know basis." And you don't, he didn't even need to add.
"Then what are you still doing here?" They were flanking her now, and that wasn't good news. Brainwashing? Leaving?
"That I can tell you." Taura didn't like the smile that went with that one bit. It wasn't a sadistic. Sadism at least was a little personal. This was just competent. A job well done, A job well done that involved a syringe. Taura flinched, but four hands clamped down on her shoulders. "The General decided your cooperation wasn't necessary for this part of the study ( ... )
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Which... failed, of course, but she tried.
She was too mad to notice anything the man was saying, then too distracted by the fact that she was getting injected with something and what the hell, this was bad. Bad was an understatement. It was the kind of thing she irrationally feared every time she visited the doctor back home. What was even worse was that they left without saying a word once the needle was out of her arm again, completely unphased by the fact that she just threw a temper tantrum the entire time ( ... )
Reply
She wasn't proud of being from Jackson's Whole. And she tried not to be ashamed of it. It just was, and she just was. Then again, the name wouldn't mean anything to Wichita. "Here and there. Dendarii Free Mercenaries, lately. I'm Taura."
Wichita was angry. Maybe she expected more of the same and less acceptance from her new roommate. Taura had learned not to be angry, whenever she could avoid it. When she couldn't, she turned it on herself. People had been so easy to hurt, and she liked to avoid doing so when they weren't trying to kill her.
Reply
"Nice to meet you." She sounded less offended at life, at least. Her arm itched a little, but beyond that she didn't feel any different. What was the point of an injection if it--? Ugh, nevermind. She didn't really want to know what the point was. 'Drug experiments', sure, maybe she'd end up flying high the rest of the night. She could definitely go for that.
But that was being optimistic. Which never really worked out for her. So she put it to rest.
"I'm guessing that's not a normal occurrence here? Or is it, and all of their drugs just suck?" Since nobody seemed to be acting literally crazy or drugged around here, as far as she could tell.
Reply
"I'd rather shove the needle in their arms and see what it does. Experimental psychologists, feh!" The guys who'd just held her in place weren't the ones calling the shots, but they worked for them. There were always alternatives.
Granted, not always good ones, which was why she'd let them inject her without fighting too hard, but choices just took choosing. "So far, I don't feel any different. Still hungry, but that's not new." One thing stood out from Wichita's question. "Did you just get here?"
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