Equilibrium

[Shamino]

Look at you… You disgust me!



The slap came towards the cheek of Grammaton Cleric P Bishop, and thus his left arm came up to intercept the woman’s arm with deadly precision. He then turned his wrist, gripping just before her wrist with his gloved hand. He then turned her arm painfully, causing her entire body to conform to the movement. She felt her arm up against her back, and her face pressing against the cold surface of the mirror that was behind her. Her quick-panting breath caused fog to stain the mirror temporarily. The Cleric’s eye turned to look at the fog for half a moment, before looking into the woman’s eyes via the mirror.

I wouldn’t disgust you if you were taking your dosage, would I?

She stared into his eyes then, and he met her eyes without a blink. She knew he was right to an extent, but that was beyond the point. Disgust was countered with infatuation. This anger that she felt, and this desperation, was countered by happiness and bliss. She was able to feel the opposite of the emotions she was feeling right now. Unfortunately for Jill Carter, she was unable to feel the more ‘positive’ emotions that she was normally able to. This was a desperate situation, but her room was well guarded and well hidden. They would never find it…

Take her away, and every wall you think is hollow? Blow it up. Rip out every carpet and every hollow floorboard.

The color ran away from her face, or what little was left from the initial break in. The Grammaton Cleric had shot open the lock and handle to her door, and had promptly kicked it off with a precision kick to the center hinge. The young man, clad in a ebony black coat that hid his weapons and his ebony, synthetic clothing underneath, was much more well dressed then the men in shaded helmets and SWAT uniforms that came into the apartment with him. The building looked like every other building, the hallway looked like every other hallway, the door looked like every other door… But behind every door, is something different.

Or is there?

If the Clerics did their job correctly, every room would be the same. Every person would have the same bed, the same pillow, the same mirror, the same food and the same clothes. Everyone would have eight to ten hours of sleep, they would wake up, they would eat, converse about the previous day with family members (if time allowed), then they would head to school, work, or the monastery. As soon as Cleric broke down the door, he knew there was something different about the place. The halls were riddled with small mirror with unique frames. Small and large paintings alike rested beside the mirrors. Entering the rooms the sheets were different, the pillow cases different. Different scents in each room indicated small flower pots. Grammaton Cleric First Class P Bishop should feel appalled, disturbed, and himself disgusted. He felt none of these things however.

This meant he was doing his job right.

The sweepers flooded into the apartment and began to rip off paintings and mirrors, breaking them on their knees before tossing them into a pile. The flowers and flowerpots alike were thrown into the pile, and after everything that would promote or provoke thought and feeling was found, the flamethrowers came in. They burned the items, and the Cleric had his arms folded across his chest as he watched. The flames danced in his eyes, but his mouth stayed a thin, placid line. “Excellent work. Make sure its all removed, and find that room.”

He exited the apartment, walking past the broken door and straight up to Ms. Jillian T. Carter. “Ms. Jillian T. Carter.” Cleric Bishop said in a monotone voice, staring down at a small PDA-like machine that showed her portrait spinning in three-dimensional rotation while displaying her profile. “I do not believe you were able to stay hidden and assemble all that you did alone. Where are your friends?”

“Do you honestly think I’m going to tell you?” She responded. He raised his hand to smack her, but blinked twice, and gently placed his hand down. Why would I hit a woman? He thought a moment, his hand becoming a fist.

“No.” He said at length. He nodded to the two sweepers, shotguns in hand, to leave. They left her side and entered the apartment, leaving the all-black Cleric and the brown haired, blue eyed young lady in the white-painted hallway. They stared at each other at length, the Cleric pocketing the PDA in his pocket and folding his arms. “No. I do not.” He said after a minute of silence, besides the odd smashing noise inside the apartment (to which Ms. Carter winced). “But you will, or you will die.”

“I could die right now, and not care. Because in my life time I have felt all emotion, and I have experienced more things in a single day than a million of your drugged citizens will in a life time.” She said, spitting to the side. Suddenly she felt leather firmly clasping sensitive parts of her jaw.

“If I felt emotion, I would tell you that what you just did… was impolite.” Cleric Bishop said with a firm squeeze. Her eyes darted to his eyes, and her brows furrowed a moment in pained thought. He let go, hands going back towards his sides as he folded his arms.

“And how would know that if you haven’t felt before?” She whispered, looking off to the side to see her saliva causing a small portion of the white floor to shine. When she turned her eye to look at the Cleric, she noticed that he too, stared at the floor. But his chin was being pressed against by a gloved fist, as if in deep thought.

“I’m one hundred percent sure I am the one that is asking the questions, Ms. Carter. You will be escorted out of the building and sent for processing and interrogation.” The Cleric turned, walking towards the elevator. He raised his voice as he spoke, so she was able to catch his words. “You will talk, or you will die. Perhaps you will talk and then die… If we are lucky, you will die- then you will talk.” His fist slammed into the wall, hitting the button to summon the elevator. The door opened instantaneously. He stepped in half way, and then turned to look at the woman still frozen in her place, staring at the Cleric. “Good evening, Ms. Jillian T. Carter.” He called out. Before she could open her mouth, the door was closed, and the Cleric was descending at a rapid pace to ground level.


“She had quite the collection.” Cleric Bishop said as he stepped into the black of his black vehicle. It was curved in all the right places to be mistaken for a Mercedes. The man in a lighter shade of black looked over to Bishop with a small frown. They wore identical clothing, except the shades were very different. Bishop wore a black that seemed darker than pure darkness, while the other passenger seemed to have a glossy shine to his.

“I take it that everything was found?” The other Cleric said, adjusting their gloves for optimum tightness around the digits of the hand. “Surely there was a Sense Offending room inside.”

“They haven’t located one yet, to my knowledge. They’ll find it. She already had enough out in the open to have her executed if the Vice Council orders it. She’ll probably just be held.” Bishop tapped the driver gently on the shoulder, and pointed towards the right. “Go to the equilibrium before we head back to the halls of the TetraGrammaton. I need to replace my dosage of Prozium, I’m about…” All three of their watches went off, and in unison they all removed small dosage pistols from their pockets. Each one, including the driver (now stopped at the side of a 3 way intersection) opened the handle, and removed a small glass canister. Prozium II was labeled in black font on the side of the canister. They placed it into the chamber of the dosage pistol. A gentle press into the neck, and the golden liquid shot through the bloodstream quickly. “…I’ve run out of Prozium.” Bishop said after a pause. “Head to the Equilibrium first.”

[Dale]

Nice, what is Prozium?

I like the way you've created the character, he gawts style!