Backdated to the GAPS plot

[behindmothersback]

I'm so tired, Father. I've lost track of the amount of time I've been here, all the tests and all the questions have worn me down. I haven't felt this tired and alone since Rapture and there, at least I had hope that the Sisters and I would be able to resurrect you and you would rescue me. I yearn for that kind of hope and in my darkest hours, when I hear the sounds of pain and loss in the cells around me, I fear it will never come.

I've been locked in a room, some kind of interrogation cell, for I don't know how long. I'm hungry and they gave me something instead of my regular anti-plasmid dose that has my head foggy. I think it's because I threw a punch at a guard yesterday. Or the day before. I suppose it doesn't matter, but they have someone coming in, a specialist of some kind who is supposed to see if my power works against... I think they said magic. They weren't talking to me and it was hard to overhear. I think they mean for me to fight again, but this isn't the arena. I don't know where I am.

There are chairs, but I ignore them, sitting on the floor with by back to the corner. I'm certain if they mean me to sit in the chair, they'll be more than happy to tie me to it. For now, I just want to close my eyes for a bit.

Comments

[high_warlock]

"So, you see, Mr. Bane, if you could offer any insight as to the origin of the subject's powers and ascertain any weakness--"

The extraordinarily unattractive man in the lab coat droned on and on. It wouldn't have been so bad if the scenery weren't the same nearly identical, sterile white corridors, dotted with more boring, mundane science types and a few security guards. But as it was, Magnus had only himself to amuse himself with on the long walk to whatever laboratory they were destined for. He picked at his chipping nail polish as his guide continued to talk, marveling at how the artificial lighting managed to wash out his skin.

This wasn't his first rodeo. More than a few organizations over the centuries had thought to study demons, hoping to harness their power for their own desires. Whether altruistic or ambitious in nature, these organizations always failed, usually feeding the demon in some manner before it was vanquished by a dutiful Shadowhunter. But they always paid Magnus well for his insight before they fizzled. Magnus couldn't even remember the name of this one, this hopeful organization, but their complex and staff boded well for his exceedingly fat paycheck not bouncing.

"...and here we are."

It took Magnus a moment to realize that they had entered a room and stopped. He flicked a last bit of polish from his nail, gave the scientist his blandest smile possible, and turned to observe the much talked about subject.

He froze. He had the distinct impression that the room was spinning.

"That's not a demon."

"Well, no, Mr. Bane, as I said--"

"Why do you have a human being in here?"

The scientist seemed to bristle at Magnus' choice of words. "She is the subject."