#clovis!

           “Axel and Kally are their parley party, but there are others with them. They have a peace flag,” Thalia informed Reyna. “No Percy, Annabeth, or the others. No Nico or Hazel.” The last part sounded grim.

Christiana walked off with little more than a hand gesture from Thalia. Her silver jacket flickered in the moonlight as she exited to continue patrolling.

Reyna’s stomach lurched at hearing Axel’s name.  She tightened her grip around her knife’s hilt. She jerked the blade out of the make-shift war table and stepped out of the tent.

No Nico or Hazel.

She thought about the way her hand had passed through Nico this past summer, like he was made of shadows, and what Calex said about the child of Hades tonight. During his rushed explanation, Calex had admitted the information he gave about Nico was vague and from a hysterical Pax—“someone dodgy at the best of times.” Maybe it was wrong.

Or maybe Nico was gone forever.

Reyna tried not to let her legs shake.

“Thalia, I need someone on standby to give me a signal the instant Clovis steps into sight,” she said.

The lieutenant of Artemis nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out for him.” Without pause, Thalia stepped back past the tent, towards the flood lights that the Romans had set up around the perimeter of Camp Half-Blood.

As Reyna walked towards the crest of the hill, Michael Kahale and Calex Rupin McKenzie came over, mid-argument.

“—here to help!” Calex snapped.

Michael held up a hand to silence the son of Eros when they intercepted Reyna.

“Reyna, the timing is tight. Do you want me to take care of this?” Michael asked, his eyes darting to follow Thalia’s departure.

She shook her head, but was happy for his presence. She was too worn down to do this on her own. If Frank, or Nico, or any of the others had come back, she would have felt better, and it wasn’t just because they could summon zombies or turn into grizzly bears.

“Is the unicorn droaght ready?” she asked.

She knew how futile the next fight would be. They’d only won a single bout this night, and Clovis was getting weaker and more despairing. But she had to try.

Michael nodded. From the way he sighed, she could tell he didn’t agree with her decision to talk to the peace party, but would never contradict a high officer.

However, Calex did not share his hesitation. He stepped alongside them.

They could see a few figures approaching from the road when Michael snapped, “Calex, you’re not supposed to be here for this.” Under normal protocol, Reyna would agree. Calex was too likely a candidate for a spy and traitor for Axel’s group.

“Likes Hades I’m leaving,” Calex hissed.

Reyna tensed. Everyone was discouraged and frustrated. She didn’t want to see a fight break out between these two. Calex looked like a Greek statue and was probably in the same weight class as one. Michael Kahale was one of the few people who could probably put Calex down, but, fortunately, he seemed to have a soft spot for his nephew on the godly side.

“You can stay, but not a word until I say so,” Reyna snapped.

Calex glanced at her with a look that said, remember, I can make you fall in love with someone stupid. Even the likes of Apollo.[2]

Michael sighed again in defeat. His shoulders sagged as they took a stand, waiting for the parley party to come to them; Reyna wanted to make sure they were within range of the huntress’ bows if the peace flag was a trick.

When she saw them come into her floodlights, she tightened her hold on her dagger. Quickly, she sheathed it, not realizing she’d kept it drawn.

Last time Reyna had seen Axel, he’d gone from nervously sliding an arm around her on the couch and naming her ninja zombie rabbits after famous fighters to setting the couch on fire and threatening to eat the hearts of her soldiers.

Now, he looked more like the monster he’d espoused.

The Nemean lion pelt swayed off his shoulders. In the dim lighting, she was disgusted to see the glint of two Roman praetor medals on the paws tied about his throat: one, she guessed, for former praetor Megara—missing in action--one for former Praetor Julian—slain on the battlefield. He wore the traditional Roman pteruges, leather skirts, overtop his pants and odd bracers—likely Mayan style.

A feline helmet was tucked under one of his arms: the Leonis Caput helm.

Reyna struggled not to signal open fire to the hiding huntresses, Lesedi and Christiana.

She felt so stupid for not seeing it before. Since the Pax brothers had escaped through the labyrinth entrance in her room, Reyna had mentally gone over each battle against the Leonis Caput during the Second Titan war. She should have recognized his fighting style, picked up on more hints, and pieced together who he was.[3]

The smaller daughter of Apollo, Kally, stepped forward with him. She held the peace flag, face drawn with more determination than Reyna had ever seen on the normally timid girl.

Neither looked armed, but Reyna knew that meant nothing with Axel. With his fangs and claws, he was always armed.

They stopped six feet away, enough distance to prevent a close range stealth attack. Axel must have had his Mist mask up; Reyna couldn’t see if his jaguar ears were tucked.

Before she or Michael could stop him, Calex broke forward. For a second, she thought he was going to attack them. Axel braced in anticipation like he expected the same.

But Calex tackled Kally into a hug and clapped his hand onto Axel’s shoulder. Kally dropped the peace flag, shattering her sturdy demeanor with a squeak. Axel relaxed.

Reyna could feel Michael Kahale roll his eyes.

“You twats,” Calex hissed, “You didn’t off anyone, did you?”

Axel’s expression was grim. Kally’s lip trembled. “We didn’t,” she said quietly.

           Calex’s face fell.

           Axel cleared his throat and stepped forward, away from Calex. Whatever clever shirt he had been wearing was shredded, like he’d been hit by a fire hose full blast for twenty minutes. His dark eyes met evenly with hers when he greeted, “Praetor.”

           “Leonis Caput,” she returned.

           She wanted him to puff up his cheeks, or frown, or show some loss of composure.

           Instead, Axel gazed past her, assessing the situation: how the Romans’ barracks were outside the camp’s borders, that there were floodlights pointed inside, that the only people running around were Roman. No Greeks.

           There was a pause that she didn’t have the time for.

           His eyes widened. “The Mist barrier… it’s almost gone.”

           Michael Kahale grunted.

           Although Axel could have been faking it, Reyna was relieved by his seemingly genuine surprise. Maybe he hadn’t come because he knew the camp was weak.

           Kally blinked, glancing over to Axel. “How—”

           “The Athena Parthenos’ eyes are closed. And Thalia’s tree is in dormancy. Even Peleus is unconscious,” Reyna said.[4] She didn’t want to give potential enemies unnecessary information, but Calex would tell them anyway, and she needed to speed this along.

           Kally and Axel shared a look of bewilderment at what could knock out a dragon, the same confusion her troops had when they first arrived.

           “Dionysus—” Kally started to ask.

           “Is out due to some petty spat Zeus dragged him into,” Calex answered, sounding annoyed.

           “Eris,” Axel growled.

           If Axel and Kally had known about any of that information, they were doing an excellent job pretending they didn’t. Reyna dug her nails into the hilt of her dagger. She needed to know their intentions now.

           “I’m not going to dance around this issue,” she said. “Are you here to help us or do I need to kill you?”

           “Kally, Pax, Euna, and I are here to help,” Axel said.

           Reyna wasn’t sure what she would have preferred: that he be the monster he was supposed to be, or that he offer his help when she knew he couldn’t do anything. None of them could do anything.

           They needed a child of the Underworld or something close.

           “Is Hazel or Nico coming?” she asked.

            Kally swallowed, raising her chin. “From what Pax said, the goddess Melinoe kidnapped him when he was turning into shadows. And… Hazel—”

           “Should have reformed from the shadow realm by now,” someone spoke behind her.

           Kally tensed. Her fingers tightened along the peace flag.

           Three figures approached behind Axel and Kally. One, Reyna readily recognized as Euna Song, the girl currently under scrutiny for the massacre of several mortals. Another—Axel’s little brother, Pax—was tugging furiously at a taller one’s arm to slow him down. The taller one wore a bulletproof vest, strange pants covered in runes, and—

           Upon seeing the helm in his hand and the forked staff in the other, Reyna felt her jaw drop. “The Cloven Terror?” she asked.

           Michael Kahale clamped a hand over his sword.

           “You brought the Cloven Terror to protect the camp? Is this a joke?” she demanded, scowling at Axel. She switched from holding her dagger to grabbing her sword hilt.

           “And the Plague Bringer!” a cheerful voice came from Pax’s belt. “But I assure you, Al and I have no intention of protec—”

           Pax slammed a hand down to the head dangling off his utility belt.

           Reyna felt like she was going to be sick.

           “Yea, it’s a gross and long story that we don’t really get either, but I’m sure Axel can tell you later to set the mood, since nothing sets the mood like severed heads and Goth boys going poof,” Pax said. He turned to Kally. “Not that I think that sets the mood. I’m a flowers and sweets kinda guy. Axel and Reyna are just—”

           A flare exploded overhead.

           “That’s Thalia’s signal,” Michael Kahale said. “We need to move.”

           Reyna hoped she hadn’t arrived too late.

           When she raced up to the edge of the strawberry fields, she couldn’t see Clovis or any monsters. Just the caution tape they’d set up along the perimeter of Camp Half-Blood’s borders.

None of this was ideal. They already couldn’t do much, and having the full Triple A Chimera here would demoralize her troops further.

           They didn’t have the time to properly restrain the Cloven Terror either. If he turned on them—

           Reyna skidded to a stop at the edge of the caution tape. Axel would have lunged over it had she not shoved an arm out in front of him.

           He paused, glancing at her. Part of her wished she’d let him jump, but he was too useful an asset if he truly was fighting on their side.

           She pointed to a body, facedown, three feet beyond the caution tape. One of her own new recruits, in full battle armor: Ellie Atmadja.

           “If you cross into Camp Half-Blood’s territory, you fall asleep,” she warned. Reyna wondered how long it would take Axel to notice what else was wrong with the image, other than the trampled strawberry fields and gashes in the trees near the field.

           Axel sniffed the air, his eyes narrowing to the other side of the field, closer to the Big House, almost outside of the flood light’s range. Where there was a small pile of bodies wearing a variety of Camp Half-Blood sleepwear. An area that wafted metallic in the breeze.  

           The ominous notes of a rapid piccolo solo came from the darkness beyond the floodlights.[5] The rhythmic rustling of footfalls followed, along with a continuous crunch that Reyna guessed was a body being dragged, like the others had been.

           A pale figured lumbered towards them. Michael Kahale was the first to start up the shouts.

           “Come on, Clovis!” he cheered, trying to hide his worry.

           “You’re almost at the border!” Reyna recognized Thalia’s voice from somewhere further along the perimeter. All her troops that weren’t staked out to ward off approaching monsters gathered near the caution tape to shout their support.

           Reyna didn’t know how to tell them, but their shouts made it so much worse for Clovis. All their encouragement made him feel like he was letting them down with each bout he lost.

           He stumbled towards them. Now, Reyna could see which sleeping camper he dragged behind him: a brunette girl that Reyna was pretty sure was the counselor of the Demeter cabin.

           Clovis looked exhausted. Reyna remembered Jason once describing the son of Hypnos as bovine. He had a gentle face, thick figure, and arms too small for his body, ones unused to frantically dragging campers across the whole camp.

           His blond hair was streaked with blood and dirt. One of his spindly arms dangled uselessly at his side. He wore white PJs, now dirtied to a tan. Even at this distance, Reyna could hear his huffed breath that bordered on a sob.

           She knew how tired he was. She’d felt his pain, his fear, his frustration, and shame. He couldn’t keep doing this much longer.

           The sound of a wind instrument increased in volume. A second figure marched forward two dozen feet behind him. As though to drown out the encroaching danger and their inability to help, Reyna’s troops cheered louder.

           Reyna wondered what kind of monster would come out this time. Last time was something large and terrifying that tore up the grounds.

           Now, a tall, lengthy humanoid figure approached. Its head was that of a giant kiwi bird skull, like someone had fused a plague doctor mask into their face. The bone-face donned a Renaissance-style lord’s cap, and the creature wore a multicolored jester costume. It pranced forward, tooting a sinister tune on its piccolo. Along its neck, even at this distance, she could see the hideous glare of a purple and orange polka dotted bowtie.

           “Holy Titans. I think I actually preferred him with his boaring pig attire,” Pax muttered over the empty cheers.

           “Clovis is by himself,” Kally whispered, “Against a god? What is Phobetor doing in camp. And none of us can go in?”

           “That’s why we were on about Nico or Hazel,” Calex told her, in a hushed, quick voice, “We think Lou Ellen is in there, helping Clovis when she can. Phobetor claims he’s close to locking in on her location. But—unless someone has lots of experience being close to Erebus, the dream world, or a lot of experience controlling their sleep—they can’t go inside without falling unconscious. And Phobetor will start killing campers indiscriminately if someone outside tries to fire in.”

           “There’s no way to help unless we have a way in there,” Axel realized, his tone grave.

           But Reyna could do something to help. Even if it was temporary.

           Clovis was about half-way through the strawberry field by now. She knelt down, focusing on him as he lumbered forward with Miranda Gardner. His desperate eyes darted to hers. Now that he was closer, he could see the clean lines the tears streaked down his cheeks.

           Phobetor lowered the piccolo from his mask and Clovis released a despairing sob.

           Reyna’s tattoo burned along her forearm. Although she couldn’t use her powers as effectively from a distance or as effectively on a single person, she reached out, feeling the familiar hopelessness, exhaustion, and pain. All Clovis wanted to do was sleep. But, Phobetor had made it clear to him—if Clovis dared sleep, Phobetor killed campers. Since Phobetor couldn’t get to another child of Hypnos in his dreams, the god brought Clovis’ nightmare into the real world.

           What Reyna wanted to know was why Phobetor wanted to kill campers and why he had chosen this method.

           Reyna willed Clovis some of her determination and strength.

           Clovis’ shuffling increased in speed. His eyes brightened. For a split second, she could see his gaze soften with gratitude. He was closing in on the border and bringing Miranda Gardner to safety.

           Then, Phobetor spoke, his voice booming over the cheers of her troops. Despite her resolve, Reyna found herself shaking in the presence of a god. “Ah, we have more of an audience now, Clovis. Look, our little nephew has come to join us.” He tilted his hat towards Reyna and—she realized from the sound of his cheek pop—Pax. “Shall I start the timer for the next bout? Horror movies these days. Never know the proper element of timing.”

           Phobetor pinched his piccolo between two abnormally long fingers so he could adjust his bowtie. He released it, and gave a quick puff on his instrument.

           Behind him, someone else trudged forward.

           Reyna tried not to tremble more. She didn’t need this god to have reinforcements. She hoped it was Lou Ellen, with another trick—the daughter of Hecate had managed to stay awake inside the border, and had been tripping up Phobetor and causing little stunts to buy Clovis time. But Reyna doubted they’d be that fortunate.

           The person approaching was a muscular boy with Asiatic features and a deep tan. He wore a baggy Camp Half-Blood shirt, a hoplite sword, and boxers, probably PJs. With much more ease than Clovis, he carried three campers, one on each shoulder, and another along the ground. He dumped them beside Phobetor, then stood there, swaying.

           Although Reyna couldn’t be sure, she thought that one of the dropped campers was a Stoll brother. The other was a stocky blond haired boy.

           “Matthias,” Pax muttered.

           The last one was a mumbling Lou Ellen. The head of Hecate had a hand to her head, and Reyna could tell she must have been walloped.

           “It appears that Sherman Yang, a young sprite of Ares, has a sleep walking problem.” Phobetor gestured to the camper standing beside him, using his piccolo like a ringleader would a crop. “He is having a very confusing nightmare right now. One about his girlfriend, Miranda, being kidnapped. It’s a pity you can’t sleep Clovis. You’d normally be able to make him your puppet in his current condition, but now—”

           Reyna wondered why Phobetor had let Clovis come so far before attacking. Now she knew: dramatic effect.

           Sherman Yang ran towards him.

           As much as she could, Reyna extended an adrenaline burst to the son of Hypnos. Clovis tried to drag Miranda to the line.

           But the athletic son of Ares cut him off with two yards to go. His bulky form partially obscured the plumper boy. Sherman unsheathed his sword. “Drop her, you monster!” he snarled. Reyna wondered what nightmare Phobetor was feeding him. She also wondered how often Sherman woke up his siblings with surprise sleepfights.

Clovis dug his heels into the ground, stumbling. “Sherman—it’s—it’s me. C-C-Clovis—” Reyna could feel the sob swelling inside Clovis. She willed him to keep it together. But he was exhausted, unarmed, and had a broken arm from when Phobetor tore through the field as a giant boar. Despite all the effort with her powers, she could feel his hopelessness creeping in.

           “Ah, little Clovis, are you ready for me to start the timer?” Phobetor flicked the piccolo to the side. It morphed into a hatchet.

           All the cheering went silent. Her troops knew what was about to happen.

She felt someone flinch against her back. With her focus on Clovis, she hadn’t realized someone had knelt by her, propping her up with their own body and warmth. She hadn’t realized how worn down she was until she tried to pull from them. A combination of rage, resentment, and reassurance washed through her when she caught Axel’s spicy scent. Some extra fury to support Clovis.

Clovis glanced over his shoulder, away from her and Sherman, at Phobetor. “You—you only ever have one hostage that you use as a timer,” he tried to reason, like he had all night.

           “Bigger audience. Closer to the climax,” Phobetor gestured towards the sky with his hatchet, where the Eastern darkness should soon have a hint of pink. “Bigger stakes. If you win this bout, little brother, you win it all!” Phobetor gave a bellied laugh. “I’ll even let you take a nap.”

           Sherman Yang shifted stances to prepare a lung.

           Phobetor raised his hatchet over Connor’s hand.

Reyna could sense some of her soldiers avert their gaze. Others shouted in anger. Michael Kahale threw one of the legion’s spears to land beside Clovis, so he was at least armed.

           “I’m going to cut off Matthias’ leg and Connor’s hand,” Phobetor explained like he had with the others. “I’m going to chop off Lou Ellen’s head, for being such a nuisance. If you can defeat Sherman before my little timers bleed to death, you can take all four campers—Miranda, Connor, Matthias, and Sherman—to safety.”  

           “Oh gods…” Kally whispered.

           “No--!” Pax shouted.

           “Timer on.”

           Phobetor brought down the hatchet.

 Footnotes:

[1] For any of you that know the song, I kept getting “strawberry fields forever” stuck in my head while writing this scene… it made capturing the tone REALLY difficult.

[2] Don’t you do it, Riordan.

[3] Mel wanted me to note through her betacomments: it’s okay Reyna. Axel’s sexiness and awkwardness would be too distracting for anyone.

[4] In my defense: if a demigod can charmspeak an inanimate metal sculpture into a sentient dragon, a god can definitely put a statue to sleep.

[R_V] As a newly instated member of the Mothermen task force I demand you forget seeing me in this condition.

*The guards ignore him and simply nod at each other as they approach the infirmary doorway, they each knock twice and disperse in sequence, leaving R_V facing the door alone, he slumps his weary body against the doorframe waiting for an answer.

*There’s some scuffling behind the door until it opens and R_V is greeted with the uncovered face of Clovis, she's already pulling him in the room before he can say anything

*Nix is sitting at their desk, still busy organizing the newly catalogued employee files. He looks up when the door opens, slightly tilting his head at the sight of this newcomer but remains when seeing Clovis has this one handled.

[Clovis] It took them long enough, I haven't seen you since you left to meet Fairfax. Sit down and I’ll introduce you to someone.

*R_V stumbles into the room as the physician pulls him, he feebly attempts to fix his posture as his eyes meet hers.

[R_V] Firstly Physician Clovis I must apologise, my actions and behaviour towards yourself and …. others is unacceptable and not to Mother’s standards.

*R_V  collapses onto a nearby bed, propping his back up against the wall as he sits there, his head hangs tiredly as his half opened eyes concentrate on Clovis again.

[R_V] My time in Isolation, albeit it brief - has adjusted my attitude. Sir has granted me a second chance. Tell me Physician, is Vesalius safe too? He must be protected.

*Clovis blinks and studies his face before checking his temperature with the back of her hand.

[Clovis] If I knew isolation would get an apology out of you I would have suggested it before hand, let's use this as a chance to start over then.

[Clovis] I haven't talked with Breyos yet but, I did catch a few glimpses of him around this place. Stay awake a bit longer so you can meet Nix.

*Nix looks up again when hearing his name.

[R_V] Very well Physician, introduce me to your… friend?

*Nix stands; one corner of his mouth curled up in a smile. He stays at a short distance, however, and reaches for the cards in his pocket. The first one is the one he shows to R_V.

“My Name Is N_X.” *The rest of the card has been crossed out, turning it impossible to read. Nix then returns it to the stack, showing a second card.

“I Am Your Medical Examiner.”

*R_V glances from the cards, to N_X and then to Clovis, a look of disbelief on his face.*

[R_V] Is this an Unward, Physician? Can he speak?

*R_V takes a deep breath as he sits himself up properly on the bed and lets out a deep sigh.

[R_V] Do not let my presence intimidate you N_X, you may speak - I am Commander R_V as you may know and I am required to be medically cleared for duty tomorrow - you both may now examine me.

[Clovis] He’s not an Unward, his vocal cords were forcibly removed so he speaks through those cards. He’s very capable and has been able to keep this facility running as best he could alone.

*Nix shows a soft, side-way smile when listening to Clovis. He never shows his teeth. His fingers search through his cards once more before showing another one to R_V.

“My Vocabulary Is Limited.”

*R_V eyes the card N_X extends as he stands up weakly ready for examination, he holds his arms by his side.

[R_V] Very well then Physician, if you trust this…. N_X, they must be somewhat medically capable. You may begin the examination.

*Clovis places a hand on his shoulder and persuaded him to sit back down.

[Clovis] No no, lay back down, I just wanted to introduce you to him. You're about to pass out so it would be a better idea to get some rest before you try to pass your medical examination. Enjoy an actual bed for once and we’ll do it in the morning.

*R_V sits back on the bed once more, carefully he strips down to his under-uniform and lays down on the bed.

[R_V] Physician Clovis, Physician N_X, I /must/ be medically cleared by morning and I entrust this rest instruction to be beneficial towards my clean bill of health.

*Nix nods and waves his hand to draw R_V’s attention for a brief moment.

“Your Request Has Been Noted.”

“WELCOME!”

*He inclines his head as a ‘goodbye’ to R_V before turning back to his desk, giving the other Ward his well-needed rest.

*R_V lays his head on the pillow and turns it to face up at Clovis, he yawns before speaking quietly.

[R_V] I am grateful for your work, both of you - I would however appreciate it if the events of this evening did not leave this infirmary.

[Clovis] We won't speak a word of it to others, wouldn't want them thinking you can say please and thank you after all.

*R_V turns away from the Physicians and finally closes his eyes as he drifts peacefully off to sleep*

*Nix looks over his shoulder from R_V to Clovis. He places his index finger vertically across his lips. Eyes narrowed in subtly pleasure and the corners of his mouth forming a smile. He then returns to the filing cabinet, collecting some blank forms in order to make a new document. But when he places his pencil on the paper to write R_V’s name… he pauses. He looks at the now passed out Ward in the bed and then back at the file… before handing both the papers and the pencil to Clovis.

*Clovis smiles as she takes the papers and thanks him before sitting down on the seat next to his and begins filling out R_V’s medical forms.

[Clovis] I’m just going to warn you beforehand, I don’t know how long that attitude of R_V’s will last. It’d be best if he didn’t know you were a veterinarian before this, he's actually a bit of a pain in the ass.

* Deep within the FAC, on level 5, two men stand before a doorway. C_C, in his crisp, short-sleeve plastic shirt, is beside a tall redhead in a light blue, v-necked medical uniform. C_C’s eyes narrow as the other man gently, nervously, preens himself. They are awaiting Clovis.

[C_C] The Person of Special Significance is overdue.

* There is no response from the other man, only a glance up the levels.

[C_C] Your Functionary recommends that you ready an appropriate greeting.

* From the breast-pocket of his scrub, the redhead takes a small stack of similar cards. Each one carrying a different sentence but all written and decorated with great care. He looks through them, finding the card that reads, in beautiful, looping script embellished with small blue flowers - ‘WELCOME’

* Clovis is descending the staircase. C_C, in a swift movement, slaps the cards forcefully out of the other Ward’s hands. They scatter on the floor.

[C_C] That is not appropriate. Your Functionary recommends that you use ‘Your Lateness Has Been Noted.’

* Two AGRI-wards pass FAIR-CO’s medical wing on their way to the staircase, one telling a story of her encounter with ‘the biggest rat of all times’. Being as unobservant as they are, she halts momentarily and shakes off a piece of paper stuck to the underside of her shoe; as she would a leaf. They continue walking.

* The redhead quickly kneels down to pick up the pieces of paper; throwing a glare at the backs of the AGRI’s in the distance. His blue uniform contrasts starkly with his hair. Block N, bed X; the tattoo on his nape states. He gently tries to smooth out the small dog-eared crease on the card he just picked up and sighs softly. ‘How may I help you?’, it reads in a beautiful, handwritten, calligraphic font. The dog-eared card is added to the little stack, near the front, and returned to his pocket.

* Black mud streaked boots walk into view from Nix's kneeling position and stop just before him. A gloved hand is offered to him.

[Clovis] Do you need help up?

* The Ward looks up at the extended hand but politely declines the offer by shaking his head. He stands and takes his cards at hand again, sifting through them until he finds the one he needs.

-‘Your Lateness Has Been Noted.’-

* After only a brief moment, the card is added back to the little pile and N_X proceeds to show her a second one.

-‘WELCOME.’-

* She huffs and pointedly stares at C_C when she reads the first note then extends her hand again for a handshake.

[Clovis] My name is Clovis. I’m sorry about the lateness, it was inevitable seeing as no one was with me to guide me to the infirmary.

* C_C turns his piercing green stare to Clovis for a moment.

[C_C] May I have your attention. This is Physician N_X. Due to previous regulatory infractions his speech has been permanently disallowed. Your citizen has consulted with Sir and an agreement put into action regarding your due sum. You are required to serve the Medical Unit and Infirmary until further notice. Are there any further questions?

[Clovis] Yes actually, what do you mean when you say his speech has been ‘permanently disallowed’? As well, I was never informed that I owed your Facilitator any payment.

[C_C] No further questions can be taken at this time. Your mandated work day begins now.

* C_C steps away from them. He glances back darkly and expectantly at N_X, then Clovis.

[C_C] The Physician expressed discontent with Sir’s lawful authority. Though he is no longer of this opinion your Functionary recommends that you do not Associate with him more than is necessitated by your duties.

* N_X keeps his doleful eyes averted as C_C speaks. His fingertips brush gently over the vertical scar on his throat. The line is crooked with signs of uneven stitching and is accentuated by the v-neck of his uniform.

* C_C smiles, an emotionless parting of black lips over white teeth. He leaves.

* N_X waits for C_C to turn the corner before looking back at Clovis. One corner of his mouth curls into an insecure but sincere smile. It slightly falters after a few seconds. He looks at her, eyebrows slightly raised as he nudges his head towards her; inquiringly.

* Clovis frowns and keeps her gaze leveled at C_C until he leaves and then turns back to N_X. Taking note of his scars, she sneers* This place is even worse than the one I left it seems.

[Clovis] Can you only talk with those cards or do you know any sign language? I know just one type but it would be easier to talk that way than the cards..

* N_X shakes his head and taps one hand on the cards in his pocket before he takes them out again. But after a couple of seconds going through his limited vocabulary, he realizes there is none that expresses what he tries to say. Only…-

-’My Apologies, Sister/Brother.’-

* Clovis smiles and nods tiredly then begins to look around the room*

[Clovis] No need to apologize, we can figure something out later. Could you give me a tour of your work area and any patients you have?

* N_X nods and looks around. He smooths his uniform before opening the door behind him, beckoning Clovis to follow.

* The medical room is spotless, as required. The tools are neatly arranged on one side of the room, in drawers and glass cabinets. The only form of decoration comes in the form of a poster depicting the nerve-system of a canine. On the other side of the room, there are a couple of beds; one of which is occupied by a big, sleeping AGRI-ward.

* Clovis nods, admiring the cleanliness of the place and pausing for a few moments at the picture of the dog's nervous system.

* N_X turns to Clovis, hands folded in front of him, wringing them in a slightly nervous manner; a bit uncertain of what to do. But then he shows a little smile again, gesturing towards the sleeping AGRI. A book titled ‘The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Human Anatomy’, carrying several bookmarks, is pushed aside on the small cabinet next to the bed; revealing the patient’s medical file. N_X picks it up and hands it to Clovis.

* The AGRI-Ward, a rugged, exceptionally large man with a scarred hoe-hacked face and a black ring of service through his nose, groans pitifully, his eyes closed. He clasps his stomach. His voice, when he speaks, is weak with pain.

[AGRI] … I got stomach-rot from them ground-cherries, I tol’ you, Doctor Nix. I ain’t fit to work.

* Clovis looks over the file and then back at the Agri-ward with another frown*

[Clovis] Could you get me the largest needle you have, It seems we need to… Take some brain samples.

* The AGRI-Ward’s eyes open suddenly. He stares at Clovis.

* N_X turns to his new colleague, eyes wide with disbelief.

[AGRI] … Uh, that ain’t gonna hurt is it? Hey, are you - one of them… Are you a… Person of special - magnificence?

[Clovis] I’m afraid it's the only way, from what you say I’m afraid you could have eaten something /very/ dangerous. And yes I am… one of those, I enjoy taking care of plants and people so I hope you’re not wasting my time.

* The AGRI shifts from the bed with a grunt and stands. He is a head and shoulders above them both. He wipes the ring in his nose with his wrist.

[AGRI] I’m, uh. Feelin’ much better… Ain’t no need to poke my brain. Turns out, them ground cherries were ground, uh … Berries.

* He pats N_X on the shoulder with a large hand.

[AGRI] Yer a good Doctornarian, Mister Nix.

[Clovis] I’m glad everything's fixed up then, please tell your friends to be careful about what they eat outside or they won't be as lucky as you.

* The AGRI gives a smirk, leaving.

[AGRI] Oh, sure. I’ll tell ‘em, tell ‘em the Doctor tol’ me. The real pretty new one. With teeth like a rake!

* He leaves, laughing.

* N_X slightly cocks his head with a disconcerted frown as he looks between Clovis and the AGRI whom he has treated as his patient for the last couple of days. He raises a hand to try and stop the other Ward from leaving but his back is already turned. He turns to Clovis, already flipping through his cards again.

-‘Please Explain.’-

* He taps the card and then points at the door through which the AGRI had left the room.

[Clovis] He wasn’t actually sick, he was faking it to most likely get out of work. I’m sure if I just said that he would try to deny it and get both of you in trouble in the process so I just scared him a bit. They’re less likely to start faking now, but, are you actually a Doctor, Nix? The way you and others act… is odd.

* N_X makes a face and exhales through his nose, softly but loud enough to be heard. He rocks his hand horizontally and then turns his torso to lift the right sleeve of his uniform. His furtherance is tattooed on his freckled shoulder in the familiar, conform State style. ‘Veterinary Sciences’.

[Clovis] You… you’re a Veterinarian. Things make a lot more sense now, they whine and talk about needing a Doctor when they put a animal doctor in the place of a human one. Well I’m glad to have someone else with me at least. You don't mind me calling you Nix right?

* There was a sigh of relief upon seeing Clovis’ reaction to the news. He shakes his head wholeheartedly and managed to show a shy smile again. Once again, he shows her a card.

* It is evening in the Facility now; 272’s upper levels are quiet but for a handful of Wards on late shift. The offices are in darkness; the sound of humming ventilation faint and constant. C_C ushers Clovis upstairs, and finally, across the towering walkway at the vertex of the FAC.

[C_C] This way. You are expected.

* Close to the Facilitator’s office, a large black and tan doberman is lying flat on its side. At C_C’s voice, its ears prick, and it scrambles up on long limbs to greet the pair.

* Clovis stops dead when she sees the dog but doesn't back away she just keeps her distance from the animal, her hands curl into fists as she watches it.

[C_C] This is Duchess. She is seven years old.

* Duchess flattens her rigid ears against her skull and curls her lip, watching Clovis. She takes a breath, and issues a long and deep sound of threat, positioned between them and the door.

* C_C regards Clovis hollowly.

[C_C] Your behaviour is agitating Duchess.

* Clovis snorts at C_C but keeps her eyes on the dog* You never told me a dog would be up here, animals that rely on scent don’t tend to like me. I don’t want to be mauled right this moment so could you… Move her.

* C_C continues to stare at Clovis.

[C_C] Duchess is not a dog. She is a bitch.

* Duchess, growling deeply, snarls an alarmed bark. There is the sound of claws and pads on the walkway, and two other dogs, tall and muscular, stand behind Clovis and C_C shivering and stressed.

[C_C] This is Madam. This is Missy. They have been summoned by their sister’s alert. They are signalling that your behaviour is unacceptable to them.

* Clovis tries to stay calm and still, her eyes don't meet the other dogs eyes and she doesn't turn to watch the other ones.

[Clovis] I told you why they're upset, I can't help that they're agitated, could you please move them away.

* C_C stares at her passively. One dog barks; another answers. It is a high, frightened sound of alarm. Soon there is general snarling, and each of the dogs is barking aggressively. His eyes narrow slightly at her.

[Fairfax] C_C! Stop those dogs from barking!

* Laurence appears from his doorway. His expression is dark. C_C turns to the dogs.

[C_C] No. Shush.

* The dogs are quiet. C_C returns his stare to Laurence. There is a moment of silence.

[Fairfax] Please come in, Physician.

* Fairfax holds open his door for Clovis, watching C_C.

* Clovis lets out a breath she's been holding for far too long and quickly enters the room before Fairfax, her face had grown ashen from the experience.

[Clovis] I-I would have warned you beforehand if I'd have known you kept that many dogs, I usually try to keep my distance.

* Fairfax closes the door gently behind her. The room smells of his tobacco pipe, of aftershave, and faintly of animal sweat. He passes her, unbuttoning his suit jacket with his thumb, to sit at his desk. He steeples his fingers and assesses her.

[Fairfax] You were paying attention during the Instructive Introduction, I trust. I want you to cast your thoughts back very briefly to the opening line. ‘Above all else know this firstly; you are home.’ Do you understand, Miss -

[Clovis] Clovis, you can call me Clovis, I prefer it to 'physician'.

* Clovis seems to have calmed down already, she just needed a bit of air and to be away from the dogs. She begins to inspect the man in front of her from the waist up and settles her gaze onto his eyes.

[Clovis] I hope I will be able to feel more at home here, Facilitator Fairfax.

* Fairfax smiles handsomely.

[Fairfax] Miss Clovis, then. I hope to assure you, Miss - it is Miss, am I correct?

[Clovis] Yes that's just fine thank you.

[Fairfax] I hope to assure you, Miss Clovis - that People of Special Significance are not only welcomed in my Facility, they are also…

* He says the next words smoothly and warmly.

[Fairfax] … Highly valued. You understand that I am obligated to assist you with any social relearning you may have to undertake in order to … Fit, here...

* Clovis swallows and looks away at his words, she turns from his gaze and places a gloved hand over her face. C_K said they needed her but she needed to hear from the Facilitator herself. If she was alone she may have cried but she just lets out a few short breaths, all this time she thought she was walking to her death.

[Fairfax] I’m afraid our current physician has made himself rather a figure of mockery. He’s a man that gets himself talked about. Some of his behaviour - Oh, it’s frightfully objectionable. He’s been encouraged to maintain his proper role in various ways - none of which have affected his usefulness… But the worse the prognosis, the more aggressive one must be with treatment. You understand.

* Clovis just nods her head, not totally listening to his words, the adrenaline that filled her before is depleted now, she wishes she had her mask back on.

[Fairfax] Contentment and renewed purpose. That is what you will find here. Now, why don’t you join your colleagues downstairs for Association. You’ll be quite safe amongst my Wards, they’re the very best that social programming can provide. An earnest pleasure, Miss Clovis.

* He stands, offering his hand.

[Fairfax] Rather subdued, aren’t you? I don’t mind, of course. Usually the sign of a diligent and industrious… Individual.

* She clears her throat and turns back to him, she only just noticed that her glove is caked in mud and who knows what else. She removes it so his hand won't be covered in the dirt like her face now is and gives him a firm handshake.

[Clovis] I apologize I'm just quite tired after all that's happened and I've been on edge, your words have put a load off my mind.

[Clovis] Will I be able to see the medical ward and the other physician soon? I would like to have my mind occupied as soon as possible. It's become a bit of a strain in the other facility if you understand.

[Fairfax] Yes. Yes of course. You’ll be proposed at the beginning of your mandated work day tomorrow. First thing. I assure you.

* He shakes her hand firmly, fondly. He does not relinquish her palm, his brow furrowing in concentration. Laurence exhales, finally. With relief.

* The Canteen is a large room, and doorless, like every clearly-communal area they have passed through thus far.  Pale blue tiles mark a border across the smooth grey walls, and the open space is filled with regularly-spaced metal tables and chairs.  A long servery runs across in front of the far wall, punctuated with grills and hatches leading through into the kitchen beyond, and apron-clad figures are visible moving busily inside.  The main room is empty, although scents of vegetables and broth are quite strong, suggesting it will not remain that way for long.*

* The slim Clerk that escorts the trio into the Canteen has the brushstroke flick of a smile painted onto the edges of his inked mouth in black-blue. His dark hair is slick and rigidly curled against the shape of his skull. He looks constantly, and appraisingly, to R_V.*

<Clerk> Here, if you will, Big Brother.

* The Clerk gestures to one side of the cafeteria hall. Three seats are arranged around a neatly pressed tin table. He gives a strange smile, his lips edged like knife-points.*

* R_V nods once at the clerk and takes the seat nearest the edge of the table, his eyes quickly darting around the room taking in the surroundings.*

* Breyos walks with a straightened back, holding his wrist behind his back. He takes the middle chair and sits down.*

* Clovis sits right beside Breyos and looks around, slightly relieved that there is no one else in the Canteen just yet.*

<Clerk> One of the Unwards will attend to you shortly. And…

<R_V> Spit it out then little brother, time is valuable.

<Clerk> May I have your autograph, dear, sweet Big Brother? I so admire you.

* The Clerk takes from the pocket of his high-waisted trousers a piece of uniformly folded paper  and a 2B pencil. His smile is unmoving as he places it on the table and waits. *

* Breyos can hear Clovis groan in disgust while the ward preens R_Vs ego.

* R_V smiles at the ward, and turns his head to face the others, one brow raised smugly, before his eyes return back to the clerk.*

<R_V> Of course brother, always a pleasure to inspire a fellow ward, and to which loyal son should I make this out to?

<Clerk> Oh. Your signature alone will suffice. And - C_C said that it was routine for all inductees of your prestige.

* R_V slides the piece of paper towards him and hastily scribbles a signature upon it before sliding it over the table again.*

<R_V> Mother’s good grace has shined upon you this day, you should be honoured.

* The Clerk snatches the signed paper, and the pencil, holding both tightly to his chest.*

<Clerk> I’m am so very privileged, Big Brother. Oh. But I must attend to my other duties. Pardon me.

* The Clerk takes a few paces back, smiling icily. He turns, and leaves them.*

* Breyos did not take his eye off R_V and the Clerk. He waits until the Clerk is out of earshot before turning fully to R_V next to him.*

<Breyos> That was… almost embarrassing to watch. Dear Mother, R_V, it’s like I don’t even know you at all. If you let all this praise go to your head, you’ll float up into space again in no time.

<R_V> Are you perhaps jealous, Mr. Vesalius, that not a single person has paid any attention to you since we’ve arrived? Jealousy is pathetic, like you.

<Clovis> You talk to Breyos about being the pathetic one when you just needed a few good words thrown at you before giving away your signature. This is a working facility, who knows what they could do.

* An Unward appears at their side. Her head is bowed and a blue napkin is folded over her arm. She waits, saying nothing.*

* Breyos smiles gently and is the first to speak.*

<Breyos> I’d love a cup of tea, please. Sugar, no milk.

<Clovis> I would like the same.

* R_V glances the woman over quickly, wincing as he notices the Unward’s lack of gloves.*

<R_V> I do hope the people handling the food here have a much higher standard of hygiene than you, sister. Bring water, bottled.

* She goes and returns, bringing them tea in metal pots.  The liquid is thin and black, with the tannin edge of long-steeped leaves. With trembling hands she places down three porcelain cups and saucers, serving them unobtrusively, each cup with a mark of what might have been a FAC number carefully scraped away to raw ceramic. A small, chalky, precisely-cut sugar cube is set on the side of each saucer. *

* Clovis thanks the unward quietly before slipping off her mask and dropping the sugar cube into the cup of tea.*

* Breyos watches the Unward do her job. Watching her, not the tea she places in front of him. But before she could walk away, Breyos places his hand on her lower arm when she stood next to him. Gently. His curiosity got the better of him.*

<Breyos> Excuse me, one moment. How come a young lady like yourself became an Unward…?

<Unward> ... N-nervous Exhaustion, S-sir…

* Breyos smiles and lets go of her arm.

<Breyos> Thank you for the tea.

<R_V> Did you really have to ask, Vesalius? We should not dwell on the problems of those below us.

* Breyos drops the sugar cube in his cup of tea, stirring softly while R_V speaks and placing the little spoon back on his saucer afterwards.*

<Breyos> I know, R_V, I know… Be glad I’m still conversing with you, you poor thing.

* R_V ‘s eyes close as he turns his head highly away from Breyos. He clenches his fists and begins to take heavy, deep breaths.*

<R_V> Quite a hilarious joke Vesalius! I think I understood that one!

<Clovis> I know how much fun it is to argue but if this continues then we won't have to worry about seeing the Facilitator. We have to stay together in this and remember that we were /attacked/, we can't keep our guards down.

<Clovis> On that note I think we owe R_V some explanation about our cover from before.

<Breyos> The only thing that matters to me right now is that, whatever occurred, it either being real or a COVER. To SAVE. My damned HIDE… R_V has no business in my personal life. I did not expect our ‘hero’ here to react this way.

* Breyos takes a sip from his tea, giving R_V a moment to let it all sink in. *

<Breyos> Hmm. I also wasn’t expecting actual tea.

* R_V takes a final deep breath, his face returns to it’s usual pale, idle, expressionless self as he exhales. His fingers uncurl from a fist and begin rhythmically tapping the metal table, before taking a sip of water. He turns to face Breyos and speaks in a low, calm tone.*

<R_V> I suppose we all must say - or DO unnecessary things to survive Mr. Vesalius. Even if it involves lies or deceit, don’t you forget that.

* R_V stares emptily at Breyos for a moment, there is silence - he tilts his head and turns to Clovis with the same dead-eyed gaze.*

<R_V> And what about you Physician, what do you make of this... situation?

* Clovis places her now empty cup down and looks between Breyos and R_V, matching R_V's gaze.*

<Clovis> This 'situation' is that we're in a State run Facility and I'm an 'aberrant'. Once we meet the Facilitator I doubt I'll be seen again. At the very least I can get you two surviving for more than a week, that'll give me some peace.

<Clovis> Also I completely made up the A_J affair so Breyos wouldn't be murdered right there and then. We thought you would have caught on but your real reaction ended up saving our hides anyhow.

* Activity in the kitchen is increasing.  A few more apron-clad Unwards scurry out into place behind the servery, carrying first stacks of bowls, and then large metal pans between them.  Steam billows, briefly, as lids slip a little when the pans are hefted into place, before the thin figures stand back again.  Just in time, as the first set of new footsteps are approaching from outside.*

* The first group to enter are clearly Clerks, each powdered and precise, although perhaps not quite to the razor-exactitude of C_C.  They do not chatter, although there is an air of soft whispering around them, passed between dipped heads and blackened lips.  There is a uniformity to their movements as they collect their food and move off to be seated together. *

* The next entrants are a stark contrast to their officious brethren.  AGRI-wards, and without exception each is at least half again as large as the Clerks; their uniforms in a collective disarray that borders dangerously close to -rumpled-, with colour in their blunt faces and streaks in their hair from the touch of sunlight.  They are already talking when they enter, a mix of accent-edges that blur together into an earthen sound, but they pay as little attention to the newcomers as the pale Clerks have done, heading straight for the servery. *

* It is some time before the next identifiable variation on Wardly theme enters, and their entrance is heralded by a collective wheezing sound that tightens the throat of a listener in pulmonary sympathy.  It seems that the young man from the stairs is not the only one afflicted by respiratory problems, and the small knot of dark-clad figures that make their slow way into the room next are all similarly fitted with breathing masks and the pendulous weight of oxygen tanks. *

* None of the groups arrive all at once - pairs, half-dozens, some even alone - but there is a clear delimitation forming as they sit, and little mingling.  Even still, there is conversation and the scrape of cutlery in the air, even the occasional burst of laughter - although the Clerks look hard in any such direction, disapproving - and it is… different.  Very different, very far away from the Silo’s damp silence, or the moldering isolation of the barley fields.  Or the strange, alien -hunger- of the Gateways. *

* This Facility is -alive-. *

* A shadow passes over the table as three newcomers pass by. All are dressed in neat, dark grey suits with distinctive blue epaulets that stand out amongst the monochrome, though this is only one of the many ways in which the leading figure stands out. He is tall and muscular, more than most others in the room, and despite his tidy attire his hair is anything but, wild and unruly and bright gold. He heads with the two others towards a table nearby but stops dead when he notices the former Silo residents and diverts his path towards them instead. *

<Blondie> Hey! Hello! You must be the ones from that facility in the barley field. And I see that the rumour going around about the arrival of the prestigious Commander R_V is true, fancy that. Welcome to FAIR-CO, all of you! I hope you like it here.

* R_V acknowledges the man, nodding at him once with a slight grin on his face. *

<R_V> It is true, I’m afraid I’ll be handing out no further signatures today.

* Clovis groans yet again before staring up at the blond man. *

<Clovis> Please, enough with the 'prestigious' stuff. His head might explode and I can't stand that smug look on his face. We're just new people here, Mr....?

<Blondie> Hawkins - technically ‘Squadron Leader Sam Hawkins’ but everyone around here calls me Blondie. I fly the helicopter, you see. So if you heard one of those in the days leading up to your meeting with the delightful Captain S_R, that was me.

* Breyos pays the man little attention and continued to stir his tea. The sugar inside is now nearly fully dissolved. He chuckles softly upon hearing Clovis’ reaction.*

<Breyos> Yes, let’s try to keep everyone alive for a little while longer, hmm.

<Clovis> I'm sure you came over here with good intentions Mr. Hawkins, but as you can see none of us are really in the mood to talk to strangers right now. I would like to get this all over with, you will find our company more agreeable once we've been patched up and settled in.

* Clovis scrubs her eye with a closed fist and pulls her mask back up onto her face, there're too many prying eyes for her liking.*

<Blondie> Ah, yes, of course. Well, should you ever need me for whatever reason I’ll probably be in the hangar with my crew over there. Nice to meet you!

* Blondie leaves the table and returns to his crew. *

* There is a -crash- from the direction of the kitchen, and a sudden explosion of shouting as a thin curl of smoke drifts out of one of the hatches.  It slams back a moment later and a woman lurches out, clad in the crisp white of a Redribbon with one notable exception: her neck is bare, and instead there is an uneven ring of painted crimson around one arm.  Tall and dark-skinned, her close-cut crop of dense hair glistens with condensation from the range.  She is professionally neat, yet her eyes are wide and there is outright panic stapled across her features; her hands wave backwards, fanning frantically at the already-vanished thread of smoke. *

* No one seems to react to this, except perhaps a few guffaws from the nearest AGRI table, and a few narrowed glances from the Clerks.  Another Unward hurries out of the kitchen, wincing as the unRibbon makes another few ill-aimed swipes over their head, and gently begins to ease her way back inside again. *

* Breyos flinches and looks up when hearing the loud crash and momentary chaos coming from the kitchen. When everything seemed to be back under control he lifts his cup from its saucer and takes a swig of tea before placing the empty cup back down. He turns to Clovis, leaning towards her ever so slightly. *

<Breyos> Never a dull moment with a Ward in the kitchen.

*With their bonds released, and the trio of Inductees if not expressly welcomed then at least -acknowledged- now, Breyos, Clovis and R_V are led further into the new Facility.  

*It is impressive.  White walls and polished concrete bear no signs of decay or contamination, and the lights are bright and steady.  The short reception stairs lead out onto a smooth, black-floored landing and walkway that runs unbroken around the edge of a large, open space in the centre, ringed with waist-high railings.  A glimpse over the edge as they pass, following C_C’s washed-out figure towards the half-enclosed security of a descending staircase, is dizzying.  The stories-deep central well is sheer, and white, broken by bands of tiling and sharp-printed letters, scattered with windows and balconies that open out from even more subterranean levels than this one.  Arrayed at regular intervals along the visible corridor walls are colourful, joyous images of neat individuals in black and white; posters that proclaim belonging, happiness, modernity, the advantage of modest conduct - and the necessity and heroism of self-sacrifice.

*They descend, and they are far from unnoticed.  Yet more thin Wards peer around office doorways or pause in their business, and the whispers follow the group like a breeze.

*R_V paces quickly behind C_C, keeping his head high and ignoring the prying eyes of the curious wards in the facility. His eyes meet one of his own posters, raising an arm to point at it as they continue downward, smiling briefly before flitting a gloved hand to ensure his hair is sitting perfectly.

*Clovis doesn't look any Wards in the eye as they move down but she does take note of everything else. Her nervousness is still there, but nothing terrible has happened so far.

*Even just walking around the facility, it is instantly obvious that this is a well-run organization. Breyos looks at the curious employees they pass by, and even from the first glimpse is able to estimate there must be at least 40 people actively working in this facility.

<Breyos> I thought FACs this size were all disbanded years ago. I’d almost feel nostalgic… Had the initial welcoming committee not consisted of two insufferable goons.

*Each flight of stairs is clearly marked with large, stark numericals set into the wall at shoulder-height; yet even that small difference seems somehow to merely underline the uniform lines of construction elsewhere.  

*On the staircase of Level Two the group’s progress downwards is halted by the laborious ascent of a young man, clad in overalls very similar to the Silo’s own designs, although far cleaner than the long-abandoned cast-offs they had.  He is young, but not unmarked, and labours up the stairs with difficulty; gasping into a plastic medical face mask and further burdened with the weight of two oxygen tanks slung around his neck. Even the effort of climbing seems exhausting, and the breathless figure is supported on the sun-burned arm of an AGRI-Ward, obviously impatient with his companion’s halting progress. They shuffle aside at C_C’s approach, turning to look at his charges as the trio files past.

*Sweat has darkened the fabric of the masked Ward’s collar, his breathing ragged even in the pause, but there seems an edge of surprise to the intake now. His wide eyes track Clovis as she passes, the darting stare by far the most rapid thing about him, and his companion rolls his own eyes.

*Clovis studies the breathing mask the Ward wears as he ascends the stairs before realizing they're staring at her; she huffs and glares at the Ward.

*The AGRI-Ward murmurs under his breath.

<AGRI-Ward> More fuckin’ mouths to feed, huh. Come on. I ain’t got all day.

*They meet no one else directly until they reach Level Four, and C_C leads the group away from the stairs - which continue uniformly downwards for at least one more angled flight - and into a long corridor running parallel to central well.  It opens out sharply partway down, forming what by State standards can be considered to be a comfortable space with chairs, bookshelves and even a small, overhead-lit garden of pale plants.  Firm letters painted across the wall read: “Association Area”.

*C_C does not stop here, does not alter his perfect pace - but as they round the next corner a hesitant Unward carrying folders stops dead in front of them. R_V bears his chrome teeth.

<R_V> Move!

*The Unward presses her back to the wall and drops her eyes, cringing, pulling her papers closer to her chest.

*C_C speaks to R_V, his voice neutral and expression unmoved.

<C_C> No, Brother. -It- is beneath your notice.

*Breyos regards the frightened Unward with an almost medical interest. Keenly observant. He doesn’t notice anything particularly out of the ordinary about this woman and passes by without comment.

*Clovis rolls her eyes at R_V's outburst and sighs heavily; the small hope in her that this place would knock some sense into R_V quickly diminishes with C_C's comment

<Breyos> Your behavior is far below social courtesy standards as well, R_V. Well… Not only -yours-…

*C_C comes to a precise halt before a set of doors labeled ‘Theatre’ in the same sharp stencil.  There is a poster for “Tonight’s Showing” displayed prominently beside the doors, advertising ‘A  Social Guidance Double Feature’: ‘Unlearning Grief’ and ‘Misbonded!’.

*The Theatre is a spacious, dark room with projection equipment mounted on the ceiling. C_C gestures for them to sit in the front row. He speaks with the impassive, level tone of an automated message.

<C_C> Please be aware, the Instructive Introduction makes extensive use of strobe lighting effects, and may be unsuitable for those sensitive to humane phototherapy. Looking away from the screen during your Instructive Introduction is strictly prohibited under penalty. Smoking and heavy petting are forbidden in the Theatre.

*Breyos sits in the seat closest to him and adjusts his shirt slightly. He turns to one side in order to watch C_C while the man continues talking. R_V is sat next to him, ever so slightly grateful to be in his blind spot.

<C_C> The cost of the Instructive Introduction will be added to your Document of Due Sum. There are absolutely no refunds. More information can be obtained from the Level One New Inductee Advice Bureau. The Bureau is currently closed. Your Functionary apologises for any inconvenience this may cause you. Are there any questions?

*Breyos slightly clears his throat and briefly lifts his hand.

<Breyos> Yes. Excuse me… ‘Heavy petting’?

C_C stares at him. Seconds pass. He answers.

<C_C> Forbidden in the Theatre.

*C_C sits in the seat at R_V’s side. He turns to observe them, placing pencil on paper.

*Clovis sits beside C_C, having no where else to go and wanting to keep an eye on him

<C_C> Face the screen. The Instructive Introduction will begin shortly.

The projector whirs into life, operated by some unseen observer. There is a fanfare; and the showing begins. Laurence appears on the screen, winsomely smiling and affectionately patting a large pale Doberman at the side of his desk gently before speaking.

*R_V jabs Breyos’ leg, leaning in slightly whilst keeping an eye on the screen as it begins to play the film.*

<R_V> Vesalius, is there truth to the Physician's words? You will explain. You must explain.

*Breyos places his elbow on the armrest between himself and R_V, turning his ear towards him ever so slightly. He whispers softly but his voice is firm.

<Breyos> Now is not the right time to discuss this.

*C_C closes his eyes in discomfort at the flickering outdoor scenes.

*Clovis glances at C_C when she notices the small movement, taking note of it before going back to watch the screen. She seems to grow uncomfortable as the movie goes on.

*Breyos watches the film in silence, almost instantly noticing how this one differs from the other introductions he has seen before. Calm, confident, reassuring,… and very appealing.

*R_V remains seated, his eyes fixed on the screen, as the film ends he brings his hands together and claps loudly, an empty expression on his face.

*Breyos frowns slightly, turning to R_V when the man claps. He was not expecting such a strong, positive reaction from the Ward, even despite the high quality of the film.  

<R_V> A wonderful film brother. Was it you that compiled it? I really must meet this Facilitator Fairfax.

*C_C rises with a soft exhale. His eyes linger on the screen, emptily, as the reel ends and the projector ceases to whir. The display shows nothing now. As he turns to them after a long moment his body is cut into a neat half by the projector’s light. His eyes are piercing green and his skin lead white, illuminated by the projector, as motionless as a ceramic doll. The light goes out; suddenly.

<C_C> The Instructive Introduction has ended. You may leave the Facility upon receipt of your Document of Due Sum. Alternatively, you may remain. Please indicate your decision to your Functionary.

*C_C tilts his head, and then his eyes, to his induction forms. *Clovis blinks at the change in light then sits up straight and turns to the other two sitting down, staring them down as if in warning.

<Clovis> Of course, we're staying. Who knows what might happen to us if we /leave/. It is lucky we survived our trip outside from what you tell us.

*C_C stares at her for a long moment.

<C_C> Yes.

*R_V pulls himself out of his chair quickly and walks towards C_C whilst staring at Clovis, He nods and turns back to face C_C*

<R_V> Yes. Of course we’ll remain, I’m certain my presence in this facility will inspire the other wards to work harder. Where do I sign, brother?

<C_C> Signatures must be placed on documentation under the text body using a 2B Pencil as directed by your Functionary. Failure to use a 2B pencil will invalidate your documentation.

*Breyos is the last one to rise from his seat. He adjusts the hemline of his shirt, also giving a gentle tuck on both sleeves… One of which, he remembers, has that scissor cut in the fabric.

<Breyos> It’s not every day you see a facility run by a man who… lives by these certain principles. I will remain as well. I doubt we’d ever be able to find anything better.

*C_C rests his eyes on the group

<C_C> You may wait in the Cafeteria. Enter in a quiet and orderly manner maintaining a single file line and be seated. Your appointments with Sir will be scheduled. Your medical assessments will be scheduled.

*C_C moves his stare to Breyos

<C_C> Further infectious disease tests will be scheduled.

<C_C> You may help yourself to refreshments.

<Breyos> ‘Tea in teapots and sugar in sugar bowls’.

*There are no fields of golden barley here. The landscape that surrounds FAIR-CO is -vertical-, at best, and the subdued party of captives are led through an erratically-angled maze of canyons and river-carved passes, green in places but cut about with scree and treacherous footing. Still, there is a pathway through the imposing cliffs and the two uniformed men follow it with care.

The sun has already dipped behind the skirting hillsides when the trail opens out into a long, low lake, with the red-tinged glow of a large opening set back into the sheer stone at the far end. It is a starkly-obvious structure in the middle of this unforgiving landscape, and the party’s footsteps are suddenly loud against the dark stone as they step inside. They are led down the long tunnel within, lit by regularly-spaced - very much intact - bulbs, and the crimson glow of a empty sunken railtrack that casts strange shadows across them all.*

*Clovis' nervousness grows as she finally comes to realize that yes, they are being lead to an actual State facility. At this point running won't get them anywhere so, she stays near R_V and Breyos and hopes they get medical assistance at the very least.*

*Breyos had given up trying to twist his hands in a more comfortable position before the zip tie around his wrists would cut his skin. The sight of this new facility is, in itself, impressive and unexpected enough to stop his complaining. He glances towards R_V from the corner of his eye. Clovis walks on his right, in his blind spot. He inhales deeply and continues on.*

*R_V continues down the hallway sluggishly, moving at a pace that only barely keeps him up with the others, His pale face is covered with dirt and dried blood, his hands tied tightly behind his back. Hours of walking and struggling to break the bonds had done nothing but harm his wrists.*

<R_V> As soon as we get into this Facility they will know who I am; they will see what you have done to me. You will be punished.

*S_R’s demeanor had been consistently agitated throughout the march; if not outright refusing to make eye contact with the prisoners, then certainly acting as if they were little more than preambulatory cargo. As they had entered the Facility, however, something changes, some shift in the tension that strings out across the man’s shoulders. It isn’t a relaxation - far from it - but it was -something-. He finally glances back as R_V mutters.*

<S_R>Think yourself lucky I didn’t leave your tiny brains on the concrete, -Ward-.

*S_R casts a fresh glance up and down R_V’s stumbling form, and sneers.*

<S_R> Whatever you -think- you were? Forget. It.

*Breyos regards the meticulously cleaned hallways and offices. The soles of his shoes squeak softly as he walks on the polished floor. Although his hands were bound and they were escorted like criminals, this place did not feel like a prison. At least not compared to the dank bunker they came from. It was… almost pleasant.*

*They pass a huge vault doorway and descend steps of polished concrete into a sterile vestibule and reception. FAIR-CO is sleek and modern; a place of great investment. The air is conditioned and temperate and there is the constant soft drone of ventilators. Posters and instructives are neatly displayed on the walls. To one side is the waiting room with laminated, blue upholstered seating. To the other, the reception where a young female Functionary Ward sits silently in front of flowers. Straight ahead is the entry to Level One and the accounting offices. *

*S_R stalks forward and stops sharply, placing his gloves hands down on the desk, where the leather squeaks against polished surface.*

<S_R> -Mothermen- Extraction Team reporting.

*There is an odd inflection on the first word, something sharp under his tone that is gone as fast as it appeared.*

<S_R> Mission successful. Now, if I can unload these idiots for whatever -he- wants to do with them - ?

*The Clerk neither greets them nor raises her eyes - but a rigid smile is set on her face. The little wildflowers and weeds before her sit in an enamel cup, wilted. Around her neck hangs a beautifully hand-written sign on a black ribbon. It reads, in precise and flowing cursive: I Disgraced Myself by Accepting a Gift Without Written Authorization!

*C_K’s eyes flick down to glance at the sign. His shoulders tense and his hands curl into fists before uncurling again. The -snap- -snap- -snap- of clicking fingertips, muffled slightly through gloves. A breath… As if he is about to say something… But the man stays silent.*

*With a slight frown of curiosity, Breyos reads the sign around the woman’s neck.*

<Breyos> Accepting a gift without written authorization…

*Breyos repeats for himself before turning to C_K.*

<Breyos> I never knew of a facility where this is a general rule.

*The wan Clerk remains silent.*

*C_K turns to Breyos, head cocked slightly to one side like a curious dog. Eyes narrowed. A pause. A roll of his eyes.*

<C_K> If we wanted an anecdote, we’d ask for one. Shut. Up.

*S_R’s fingers tighten, a little more, against the table, as he ignores them both. When he speaks, his voice is very flat.*

<S_R> Call. This. In.

*The Clerk, points, finally, still without meeting their eyes, her smiling expression fixed, to the little button on the other side of the desk. A sign there reads:

PRESS BUTTON ONCE FOR ASSISTANCE.

* Without moving his gaze, or apparently any other muscles than necessary, S_R slowly extends an arm and one, -specific-, finger. Then presses the button. The Clerk’s frozen face doesn’t change, as a thin trill rings out from an adjoining room.*

*Nothing happens, except that S_R’s eyes narrow as he leans more heavily against the button. This time, he doesn’t release it, and the trilling continues, becoming increasingly discordant as the sound bounces around the room.

*There comes a perfectly neutral voice from behind them.*

<C_C> Is an emergency currently in progress?

*C_C is a tall, pale Ward of ceramic beauty. His hair, glossy beige in colour, is curled with a surgical precision. His lips are oil black and he wears a short-sleeve shirt of white, pressed synthetic material, which gleams with a plastic sheen. His eyes are vivid green.*

*S_R draws his hand back from the button as he turns around, and there is naked loathing his amber stare.*

<S_R> No.

* S_R reaches back, and jabs a finger into the button again, holding on for just long enough for the sound to start its tinny dopplering, before letting go. *

<R_V> Yes. The Mothermen Extraction Team used an excess of force in assaulting our Facility, I demand to speak to your Facilitator.

*Breyos nods in agreement.*

<Breyos> We were told this was an evacuation, not an abduction. The option to join them in a civilized matter was never given. *He pauses momentarily.* And these -hooligans- were not shy of distributing an abundance of physical violence to not only me but R_V here as well.

*C_K shifts so that he is stood closer to R_V. Right next to the man, his shoulder almost brushing his arm. The loathing in his eyes matches his Captain’s, and he stares at C_C even though he quietly addresses R_V.*

<C_K> It would be in your best interest to be quiet and do as you are told. You do not want to make matters worse than they already are. –Trust me-. <C_C> Are you in a state of distress or exhibiting injury? <S_R> No.

*Another twitch of gloved digits, another stretched-out burst of sound. S_R’s eyes do not leave C_C’s face.*

<C_C> The sign advises that you press -once-.

*S_R flexes his hand, leaning back a little more heavily on the desk.*

<S_R> My. -Mistake-. *He circles the button with thumb and forefinger, a fresh sneer on his lips.* Mothermen. Reporting in.

<Breyos> I spoke to Mr. Fairfax on the phone- *Breyos adds, straightening his back.* -and I would like to speak to him in person. Rather now than later.

*C_C steps around them to sit at his desk, upright and poised, next to the Ward with her head hung. He regards her carefully.* <C_C> The Duty Functionary cannot process Intake currently, as she is undergoing Disciplinary Shaming. You may participate in her Shaming if you wish. Would you care to receive appropriate instructions as to how you may share in - <S_R> I don’t have time for your fucking –sign fetish- today. *S_R swivels to follow C_C as he moves.* Mister Fairfax needs my report.

*C_C watches the other man impassively. His voice has a measured, changeless tone.*

<C_C> Stand behind the line.

*S_R glances around, at the slightly-swaying form of R_V, and the more stable figures beside him. His attention lingers on Clovis for a second, before returning to C_C.*

<S_R> Or I could just… leave them here. One -bites-. One might well be poisonous.

*Breyos doesn’t respond but takes a few steps back to position himself behind the line on the ground as instructed.*

*C_C remains expressionless. He repeats his instruction without variation.*

<C_C> Stand behind the line.

*R_V positions himself just behind the line, glaring at S_R and then back to C_C.*

<R_V> I must commend you brother, you are doing an outstanding job here, following rules to the point. If only the Mothermen had men like you.

*S_R rolls his eyes.*

<S_R> ...one moment.

*S_R turns around, unclipping the baton from his hip with practised ease, and weighs it in his hands as he steps into the line of R_V’s sight. The swing is sharp, and aimed, and vicious - and R_V takes it well, even if the -huff- of forced-out air is a dull echo of the meaty impact. S_R rams his hand under R_V’s jaw, shoving the larger man back from where his pained hunch has tilted him over the line. The Captain drops into position beside him, clipping the baton back, and meets C_C’s blank expression with a humourless smile.*

<S_R> -Now-, do you want them?

*C_C smiles lifelessly. He regards S_R with the unnatural expression and unmoving eyes.*

<C_C> Pardon me, Captain. You are required in Sir’s Office immediately. There is no loitering permitted in reception.

*Every muscle in S_R’s jaw tenses at once, a pale wash of fury chasing across his features, and for a moment he looks ready to draw weapon again. Then he turns, sudden as a slap, and stalks away towards the staircase.*

*The rigid smile is still fixed on C_C’s black lips.*-

-<C_C> I am Functionary C_C. Sir’s Personal Assistant. Head Secretary of the Committee of Disciplinary Shaming. Registrar of the Board for the Reduction of Obscenity and Vulgarity. Official Notary of the Level One Social Club. President of the Watercolour -and- Calligraphic Society. Chair of the Approved Literature Discussion Group and Founder of the 272 Unward Benevolence Program. In the interest of safety and security you must remain behind the line.

*C_C moves his eyes to R_V.*

<C_C> It is my pleasure to help.

*R_V watches S_R leaving the room, smiling slightly before turning back to face C_C. He stands as tall as his injured body can allow and speaks loud and clearly.*

<R_V> Flight Commander of the Orbital Weapons Platform Fortune... Honoured Test Pilot of the State... Pilot-Cosmonaut of the Chain, awarded by the Presidium of the Supreme Loyal, recipient of the Order of Victory, Order of the Black Ribbon, and the Chain of Exceptional Service in the Cause of the Defence of the State.

*R_V exhales happily, a broad smile of pride wide on his face.*

<R_V> But I’m sure you already knew that, little brother.

*Breyos raises one eyebrow, giving R_V a sideways glance while the man listed his titles.*

<Breyos> I too was more impressed by those before I personally met you. *he tells him, quietly, before focusing his attention back to C_C.*

* C_C stares at R_V passively. He turns to the shivering Clerk at his side. *

<C_C> You are privileged to be Shamed in the presence of our Honoured Inductee.

* The Clerk nods once, her smile painfully unmoving. C_C returns his eyes to R_V languidly.*

<C_C> Welcome to 272 FAIR-CO. Anomalous Energistics. You will be made comfortable and duly inducted. Improper conduct is prohibited in this room under penalty. Irregular language is prohibited in this room under penalty. The directions of your Functionary must be followed unless prior written consent has been received from Sir. Non-compliance will be noted in your Cumulative Permanent Record. Please state your name and numeric identifier.

<R_V> Commander R_V, 632 – 976 – 3.

*C_C notes it, in small, tight cursive on a filing card.*

<C_C> Please state the name of your associate and the name, numeric identifier or nonstandard designation of your Person of Special Significance.

<R_V> Breyos Vesalius. Citizen. The Aberrant Physician identifies themself as Clovis.

<C_C> Any instances of Tuberculosis, Dysentry, Rubella, Hepatitis, Influenza or Syphilis?

<Breyos> I beg your pardon?

*C_C looks up. He rests his neutral stare on Breyos.*

<C_C> Syphilis is a bacterial infection primarily spread during sexual intercourse. Would you care to view our pamphlet on communicable diseases?

*Breyos exhales, blinking slowly.*

<Breyos> No… No, I know what syphilis is. *He assures the Ward. He frowns and decides to add* I’m a biologist.

<R_V> Test him.

*R_V casts a glare in Breyos’ direction.*

<Breyos> -None- of the above.

*Breyos emphasizes, ignoring R_V’s gaze and nudges his head slightly towards C_C’s papers to make sure he notes it correctly.*

*Clovis' color seems quite sickly at this point, and she has yet to speak up at all in this room until now.*

<Clovis> We have no bacterial, viral, fungal or protozoan infections to speak of. R_V is suffering from various wounds caused by your Mothermen but none are serious. We are all a bit dehydrated and exhausted but not suffering from heatstroke, in general we won't be bringing any dangerous viruses into your facility. We just have to be checked for to ticks and other bugs and our wrists need to be disinfected for chafing.

*Clovis takes a breath after her long winded reply and goes silent again, staring at the wilting flower.*

*C_C writes on, expressionlessly.*

<C_C> Are you currently suffering from any of the following: Fatigue. Malnutrition. Pronounced Vitamin Deficiencies. Irritability. Lice.

<Breyos> Our previous establishment was medically ill-equipped. I don’t have any information on our general vitamin levels. Lice? No. Fatigue? Yes. Malnutrition? Less so. Irritability? Currently still increasing. Are we done with this bit of meaningless Q&A?

*There is a long silence. C_C stares openly at Breyos. His pencil pauses on the filing card*

<C_C> I do not understand your question.

*Breyos stares right back at C_C. His expression slowly changes; his teeth still clenched. A smile, this time, that doesn’t reach his eyes. He takes a moment to ensure his voice changes too. Softer; to accompany the smile.*

<Breyos> I was merely wondering, son, how many questions still remain on your list.

*C_C pauses, then raises his eyes to Breyos. *

<C_C> One.

*C_C states softly.*

<C_C> Of the highest importance to Sir.

*Breyos sighs quietly.*

<Breyos> Go ahead then.

<C_C> Are you able to play chess? <Breyos> I am. *Clovis looks confused for a moment before shaking her head.*

<R_V> Unfamiliar with the game.

*Their answers are noted. C_C opens a desk drawer and withdraws a long pair of white handled scissors and thin surgical gloves. He stands, and pulls the sterile gloves over his long fingers.*

<C_C> Remain behind the line. Any attempt to touch your Functionary without prior written authorization is absolutely forbidden.

*C_C approaches them. In the fluorescent white light his skin is almost translucent, and is dusted with chalk. The shadows on his cheekbones are faint bruises, where his own fingers have pinched colour onto his cheeks.*

*C_C stands before Clovis.*

<C_C> Present your wrists. Remain still.

*Clovis doesn't move beyond showing C_C the ziptie and stilling her breath for a moment*

* Blades are cold against Clovis’ flesh for a moment, before the scissors cut cleanly through the plastic zip tie. It falls to the floor. He moves to Breyos. There is a long pause, a flick of his eyes, up and down. His expression remains neutral and the scissors are held limply in his hands.*

<C_C> Present your wrists. Remain still.

*C_C rests the scissors on the zip tie and the fabric of Breyos’ sleeve, and closes his hand. The blades snick; the zip tie falls, and the scissors make a clean cut into the other man’s shirt cuff.*

*C_C rests his apple-green eyes on Breyos. The Shamed Clerk behind C_C raises her head and regards them smilingly.*

*Breyos extends his arms, watching the pale Clerk approach. It was a mistake to keep his eye on C_C instead of the scissors. He realizes too late what had happened and looks down to his wrists when he hears the sound of scissors through fabric. *

* Breyos clenches his teeth, glaring at C_C. Commenting did not seem like a good idea.*

<Breyos> Thank you kindly. *he says, with a hint of discontent under his breath.

*Clovis speaks up again, staring at the dying plant in discontent.*

<Clovis> When will we be allowed to receive medical attention and meet your Facilitator? I'm sure no one here wants to deal with three unkempt and bleeding individuals for very long.

*C_C stares at her hollowly.*

<C_C> You will meet Sir when an appointment is made available to you.

*C_C steps around them, to where R_V’s hands are restrained tightly behind his back. He speaks, close to the other man’s neck. His body is odorless.*

<C_C> You did not lie face down as instructed. You have been injured. *There is a quiet, careful snip, as C_C cuts R_V’s restraints and stands back.* When asked to lie face down by Sir, you must comply.

*R_V brings his hands in front of him, carefully rubbing his wrists in turn with each hand, He glances down at the cut zip tie before bringing his piercing blue eyes back to meet C_C, nodding firmly once.*

<R_V> Thank you for your concern Brother, My previous record of outstanding compliance should be noted however, Vesalius failed to clearly state the instructions, note that on his file.

*C_C regards him emptily.*

<C_C> Yes.

*C_C turns back to the desk where Breyos’ filing card lies, lifts his pencil, and makes an additional note, as instructed. He faces them once more, lifelessly stating his words.*

<C_C> The Instructive Introduction Film will commence shortly in the Theatre. I will escort you. The directions of your Functionary must be followed throughout the screening. Improper Conduct is prohibited. Your responses to the I.I.F. will be noted and may be added to your Culminative Permanent Record at the discretion of your Functionary.

*C_C turns to the Shamed Clerk at her desk.*

<C_C> The Statement of Due Sum is to be prepared for Sir.

*The Clerk nods once, head hung. C_C taps the registry on the desk, and the pencil stub at its side. *

<C_C> Sign in and follow me. Please.

*Throughout the entire time C_C has been speaking and releasing the prisoners from their bonds, C_K has become even quieter than usual. Even his breathing seems to have stilled. Forest green eyes almost glassy as he retreats into himself, in case his more… destructive thoughts towards C_C become visible on his face. Occasionally he glances at R_V. Snark on the tip of his tongue at the obvious boot-licking. But he chooses to stay silent. For now.*

*As the others file out and follow C_C, C_K stays behind for a moment, hovering by the Shamed Clerk’s desk. There is no love lost between himself and the Clerks, but something bordering on pity is clear in his eyes. In the tremble and twitch of his hands. The slight cock of his head. Her punishment makes him uncomfortable.*

*The Shamed Clerk raises her head as the others file away.*

<C_K> I am sorry for any inconvenience my Shaming may cause.

*She continues to stare at C_K.*

<Clerk> Go away, little puppy.