Become the damage done. [CLOSED]

[futilecycle]

WHO | Sigma and Quintus
WHAT | Sigma rats out the Initiate for glory.
WHEN | The night of the break-in (Binding Plot).
WHERE | A call starting at Sigma's desk in the Department of Defense, probably migrating elsewhere.
WARNINGS / NOTES | Slightly backdated because we are both finished our finals now!


While Tributes and Capitolites were busy making certain they were seen anywhere but the warehouse, Sigma intended to live out the day of the strike as ordinarily as possible.

His coworkers knew the Doctor was an eccentric man; he would not leave a project, no matter how ambitious, on the table overnight. As the log marked his fourteenth active hour, so too did it midnight. Very few faces remained in the room, spotlit from beneath- a department made up entirely of ghosts- by the soft blue glow of their electronic drafting tables. A few precise strokes of Sigma's stylus completes the blueprint the Doctor had spent the day designing: an elegant pod that would release a cloud of colourless, toxic gas potent enough to melt the skin off of a person. Within weeks his machine would be assembled, deactivated, and eventually sent to sleep beneath a street near Snow's home in anticipation of a rebel mob. A deadly, rotten egg dormant beneath a road civilians walked down every day...

Wiping his brow, Sigma's organic eye flicks to the upper corner of the digital display: it was very late, indeed. Were Initiate the leader Sigma anticipated, he would have already mobilized his team and be on site this very moment. The Doctor's heart drummed in his chest. For all he knew, the operation could have already succeeded - at the very least, turning the rebels in now would give them a sufficient head start.

He powers down his tablet and sends the briefest of signals to the Initiate Fraysong's communicator - and feigns that he is dissatisfied with the non-response. When a second attempt does nothing, either, Sigma contacts the Tribute Tower's security staff and makes an inquiry concerning the Tribute's whereabouts.

'He is not in the Tower, sir. Is there a problem?'

Sigma's lips are drawn into a worried frown; they suddenly feel very dry. There is no moisture in his mouth to relieve them.

"Put me through to Quintus Falxvale. I believe we have an emergency situation and I must discuss the matter with him at once."

He's connected to the priority line and asked to hold. Sigma leans back against his chair and prepares himself for the long, relentless night ahead.

Comments

[lex_paciferat]

The call jerks him out of half-sleep.

Ordinarily at this hour he would be sleeping--he's finally starting to get used to having regular hours, rather than the erratic cycle of night shifts and day maintenance that he'd worked upon first coming to the Capitol. The jamming of the network and television feeds, however, has his anxiety going at a low hum in the back of his mind. He'd made a half-dozen calls and failed to get a clear answer as to what happened, an outcome he partly attributes to Capitol bureaucracy trying to cover their own asses and partly to the perplexingly deep level of breach his electronics background tells him that had to be. It's not the sort of thing that comes from some small-time hacker dicking around. It had been a warning, he's sure of it.

But of what?

He rolls over, reaching to retrieve his phone from his desk, squinting at the screen in the darkness before taking the call.

"Falxvale."

He's treated to a brief explanation--Sigma Klim from the Department of Defense, emergency situation, sensitive intelligence. Halfway through he's already out of bed and slipping on his shoes, saying, "Yeah, okay. Yeah. I'm coming in. Tell him I'll be on a private line in fifteen minutes. And get some coffee on my desk."

True to his word, fifteen minutes later he's in his office with the door locked, a gray overcoat thrown over his pajamas and the mug of coffee steaming near his hand. He doesn't look very professional, what with his outfit and 5 o' clock shadow, but he allows video nonetheless. This sort of thing ought to be conducted face-to-face.

"Dr. Klim," he greets. "What's going on?"

[futilecycle]

By now the office has cleared - some of them would return in a little less than six hours. Sigma, presently, has as much of an opportunity for privacy as he would have in his own home. He was no fool: the private quarters of an ex-Tribute in a sensitive government job were certainly monitored.

He hadn't expected Quintus to agree to a video call (the Doctor knew of the other's proclivity towards covering his camera), and in the moments before they go live, Sigma makes an effort to straighten his tie and look as alert as the wrinkles on his face will allow. "Mr. Falxvale," he begins calmly, the corners of his mouth still bent into a frown, "Thank you for accepting my call at this late hour. I am concerned about the disappearance of an acquaintance of mine whom I have been keeping track of in my off hours. Let me be brief: I suspect this may involve potential rebel activity." He knows nothing good could come of a blanket statement like that, but it was imperative that Quintus knew at once that he was not pulled from his home without reason.

[lex_paciferat]

Quintus straightens his posture a bit, his features falling into hard lines. When he responds, there's an edge to his tone, implying that Sigma had better not be blowing anything out of proportion here.

"Who's the acquaintance?"

[futilecycle]

Here is his last moment to withdraw his betrayal, to make the entire thing into a false alarm and pick any other name to toss to wolves instead of crossing into territory from which he could never return.

Sigma does not do this.

"The Initiate Fraysong," he says finally, and the trap has clamped shut against the boy who dared to trust him. Foolish Isaac, who had only ever loved and assume he was loved in return. "We were close allies inside of the Arena. Now, I suspect I have been used all along..." Sigma's brow furrows with deep concern. "I will explain, but please, quickly - are there more Tributes missing from the tower than usual for this time of night?"

[lex_paciferat]

Instead of offering up a guess, Quintus taps a bit on the display on the surface of his desk. There's a rhythmic beeping noise, akin to the ringing of a phone, and then a voice picks up the call.

'Aulus Volfair.'

"Hey, do me a favor and check how many suites are empty," says Quintus. "I know we've got some parties going on tonight, but I'm curious."

There's about a thirty-second pause, during which Quintus doesn't quite look at Sigma's face, pulling up another menu showing the randomized patrol assignments and glancing through the current locations of the men.

'We've got about forty unoccupied.'

"Lock the auxiliary entrances and transfer 11, 12, 21 and 22 to the main entrances. I want everyone coming in or going out to be searched. I'll get back to you in a second with further instructions."

'Yes, sir.'

He ends that call, turning back to Sigma. "Explain now."

[futilecycle]

The way Sigma interprets Quintus' tone makes him feel as though he is being interrogated. It is probably not untrue. He sits upright in his chair until his age-arched back (though less pronounced than an elder from Earth) is perfectly straight and settles in for as succinct an explanation as he can offer: "What I am about to tell you I have gathered from many months of interaction with the Initiate Fraysong, but I will attempt to be brief. This Tribute has supernatural powers," he begins calmly. Losing his nerve at this point in the game would be to admit his guilt. "He has the ability to stir up strong emotion- primarily fear- inside of a person. I suspect this skill may be observed plainly in the recordings of the Games. To have his enemies react to him with sheer terror and panic... who would not want to put such an ability to use if they had it? I did not think much of it, at first, myself..." All of this is such an in-a-nutshell version of the Initiate's true power, but Sigma does not have long to explain the intricacies of how he and his son's minds have shaken hands.

"...But I have reason to believe that this is the least of what he was actually trying to do. After all, what happens when you condition a person with fear? They become vulnerable to the power of suggestion, if they believe the suggester's direction will protect them from harm. Worse, what happens when one can reach into another's mind and change whatever they like?" His hands curl thoughtfully around his chin. His organic eye is closed. It's a bad habit of his, staring into space with his cybernetic monocle while he's thinking - he sits so still he may as well be sleeping to those who have not learned to identify the shape of a camera behind reflective glass. "...I am talking about brainwashing, Mr. Falxvale. Complete control over another person..."

[lex_paciferat]

Powers are something Quintus isn't that familiar with--he's seen them in use in the recent Arenas he's watched, had a few incidents here and there in the Center, and he knows that the Gamemakers generally try to suppress them down to a point that allows for a fairer fight. Conditioning, on the other hand, he knows a little more about. He'd spent a few nights once reading about the process, wanting to know what had become of those men he'd tortured. He'd thought, perhaps, that knowing might make their fate seem less like a loose end, like a lingering, unfinished problem, but the pages of pain-contorted rats and wicked-looking needles had done nothing for his comfort.

"You're telling me he can do something like avoxing people with this power?" he says, wanting to make sure he's following this correctly.

[futilecycle]

Quintus' perspective on the Initiate's powers was one he had not considered, but one that fell into place perfectly. Sigma sorts out the intent behind his question before nodding slowly. "That is correct. It is analogous to the process of avoxing..." The way Quintus had put it made the situation more dire, and Sigma thought he preferred it that way - though he would have to tread carefully here. If he somehow insinuated that he was under the Initiate's control, it would be the end of their long con.

Anxiety begins to build and yet Sigma is compelled to keep talking. "I had no intention of covering up for him whatsoever. The truth is, when I first considered what he could do with his powers, I was... skeptical. After all, the two of us had been allies for quite some time, and my powers are not insignificant. So why had he not tried to control me?" Now Sigma gets up from his desk and begins to pace about his chair tormentedly, fingers wrung together at his stomach. He speaks quickly, for the time to act is short. "The conclusion I have come to is that as a psychic myself, I was immune to his control. My powers have been known to block the abilities of others, thus, even if his projections could spill into my thoughts, the manipulation had no hold on me." He could not lie and say that he had never felt fear in the Initiate's presence, for there was video evidence against that - but it was true that he had never succumbed to it, that he had kept a level head and left the encounter the same as he had entered it. "It was not until just recently that I began to suspect that there was something wrong."

[lex_paciferat]

Why indeed would Sigma be spared, if he's been in close contact with the Initiate? It's an excellent question, and one Sigma evidently has a tidy answer for. Quintus watches his movements, taking a slow sip of his steaming coffee, and finds himself skeptical.

"What kind of powers do you have? Just so I know." The question is less pointed than cautious, because if he's dealing with someone dangerous here, he wants to make sure he's not tipping his hand. And besides, should this explanation turn out to be actual intelligence, he needs to keep the information coming.

[futilecycle]

Now here was a question difficult to answer, and one Sigma had not quite prepared for. How did a person admit to the ability to cross time and space without sounding like a lunatic? One does not, he decides. He provides Quintus with a partial answer, for now.

"In my universe, I was among one of several extremely powerful espers. I have the ability to foresee death - my own or otherwise. Should someone attempt to use their powers against mine, I have occasionally been able to limit them so long as my strength is greater." He did not want to own up to being able to stop the Initiate outright. In fact, that facet of his powers was one Sigma had difficulty understanding, himself. "I can pull up the tapes for you another time. Is this sufficient?" His powers were a matter of public record, if Quintus cared to check.

[lex_paciferat]

Quintus' mouth twists a little--that assertion enough is troubling to think about, and he gets the sense that Sigma isn't telling him the whole story here. But if there's recorded evidence of this, he can indeed check that later. Right now, he's realized, he's going to have to err on the side of caution.

Disregarding Sigma's question, he asks, "So if the Initiate's out to make trouble with a bunch of brainwashed followers, where would I expect to find him?"