voice;

[humanistic]

So hey, if you destroyed that file they gave you, when you first arrived? The one with all those little details about you? Doesn't actually matter, because they've got a copy of it somewhere. Or something really like it.

Just thought that should be publicly known--it figures, right. That's the government for you. Keeping tabs on all of us.

I've been locked up for a-- week, a week and a half. Kept on my own. Not because of what I did, because I didn't do anything. And they're still not ready t' let me out. They keep saying the investigation is ongoing. [He actually sounds sort of amused by that--grim, dark, but amused.] Something about it's got t' be going right, because they're giving me little privileges back, one piece at a time. Or maybe they're just trying to keep me happy.

Or maybe someone's hoping it'll be enough to earn allegiance out of me, some-- deal with the devil kind of thing. Who knows how the hell all of these pieces are connected here. It's a slow process, whatever process they're going off of. Guess with all their superheroes running around, stopping crime, they don't have t' worry about overcrowding in their jails.

But, hey. At least it's still basically 1950, so smoking's still considered a basic human right. [human ha ha] Except I'm almost out. And I'm out of crosswords, and I'm fucking bored.

[AND NOT HAPPY but whatever that's "wrongful imprisonment" for you.]

One thing's for sure. Whoever got me into this? Whoever, or whatever--I'm not forgetting it.

Comments

[inmyothertights]

Were you drunk at any point?

[humanistic]

What?

[He actually laughs at that--grimly, but whatever.]

No. It wasn't 'cause of blacking out, or anything. It's just-- not there.

[inmyothertights]

Huh.

You'd think someone might have powers to be able to take memories away. Or like. Mind control. You know, like a telepath.

[humanistic]

Yeah.

[That's unnerving, to say the least; it roughens his tone.]

Yeah, I'm sure they're thinking of that-- [Even if he hates thinking of that, like he's just some-- thing, to be used--] --but the thing is, how d'you prove that's what happened.

If that's even what happened.

[inmyothertights]

You get a telepath to confirm. One that is trustworthy.

[humanistic]

I don't want anything to do with telepaths.

[inmyothertights]

Probably the smart choice, really.

[humanistic]

Thanks. I'm trying.

You don't know any telepaths worth trusting?

[inmyothertights]

Well, Charles Xavier is probably okay. Probably.

[humanistic]

...Who?

[inmyothertights]

....Professor X?

[humanistic]

What the hell kind of name is 'Professor X'?

[inmyothertights]

Well, his name is Charles Xavier and he's a professor?

I mean of all the codenames out there that's the on you're going to take issue with? There are guys who go by Melter.

[humanistic]

Let me guess. Melter, he works in a fondue restaurant by day.

Look, where I'm from, we don't do code names. Or have professors who are super-heroes in disguise. If there was some vigilante going around wearing one of those academic robes, calling himself 'Professor X', he'd be laughed off the street.

[inmyothertights]

I don't think he's....

....that's not really what he does.

[humanistic]

With a code name like that? It would only make sense.

[inmyothertights]

Well first off he's in a wheelchair.

And second off he is actually a professor.

[humanistic]

Yeah, that... almost makes it worse.

[inmyothertights]

How is that worse?

[humanistic]

I feel like explaining it might be going too far.

Does the wheelchair fly?

[inmyothertights]

....it's a wheelchair.

[humanistic]

And a car's a car but I saw a '58 Jaguar coupe hovering along just the other day, so I think that question is actually pretty normal, with shit like that flyin' around.

[inmyothertights]

It is land-based. A land-based wheelchair. With wheels.