2007-08-28: Batter Up


Candice_icon.gif Felix_icon.gif Giselle_icon.gif

Summary: Giselle introduces Felix to Candice. And Candice acquaints him with her ability.

Date It Happened: August 28, 2007

Batter Up

Hartsdale - Primatech Cells

Another day in the cell. Benjamin kindly brought by a paperback copy of American Gods, and Fel is immersed in the novel. At least he likes reading - it's made the long days here pass somewhat faster. His bruises have faded, and his stitches been removed, leaving him with a white scar on one brow. He looks weary, propped against the wall, seated on the bed.

Unfortunately for Felix, it is not just another day in the cell. It won't be, at least, when Company Agents are through with him today. Mr. Ivanov may have willingly consented to share his power, but that doesn't mean he's being let off the hook - on the contrary, it just means he'll be subjected to an altered version of what he would've missed out on. Giselle is here to oversee the testing process, though she won't be the one putting him through the hoops. That honor is reserved for a Candice Wilmer, who the blonde briefly holds the door open for as she slips in with a smirk. "Hey, Felix."

Felix stands up, laying the book aside gently. There's nothing else in the cell, save a battered copy of 'The Count of Monte Cristo' and a little sketch on blue paper of something that might be a robot, might be the Tin Man. "Muldoon," Felix says, coldly.

"Hello, Mister Ivanov," purrs the woman Agent Muldoon holds the door open for. She's dark blonde with brown roots showing. Maybe early thirties, with pale grey eyes. Thin. Athletic. Beautiful. All the things Candice wants the world to see her as. "I've heard so much about you. Tell me something… Do you like illusions?" She tips her head to one side and smiles encouragingly. "What is it that you do, exactly?" A look is flashed to Giselle. Close the door, it says.

Duh. Giselle isn't going to let this lovely little prisoner get away with running loose through hallways like the /first/ time. With a metallic groan, the door slides back into its resting position, and the older of the two females turns to face Felix fully. A clipboard that hadn't been so apparent before is taken into full view now, uprighted from its draped position so its papers are no longer drooping in a downwards fan. "He affects momentum," she tells Candice without facing her, eyes full and thoughtful on the Russian. "We considered telekinesis as a possibility. He's shown us a modest tasting of what he can do, but we're not sure what he's fully capable of under high-stress situations - which is why we're here." For a moment her phrases sound /educated/, but the sadism in her tone afterwards is ill-concealed behind a grin.

"No," Fel's voice remains cool. "I prefer reality." He's thin, nearly gaunt - the food here doesn't agree with him. "I am an FBI agent. But if you're like everyone else here in this zoo, it's my particular trick you're asking about, right?" he says, arching his brows. "I manipulate objects in motion. I'm not a telekine, not truly." The blue eyes flicker to Giselle, but betray nothing.

"I do illusions," Candice explains, taking a sauntering step toward Felix. She shrugs casually and adds, "It's kind of my thing. My illusions can take you places." The scene shifts and changes about them. A beach. Tropical. Warm breezes, sunshine, and the ocean lapping at the shoreline just yards from their feet. "Maui." The scene shifts again. The three stand on the sidewalk of a busy road. The cars drive the wrong way down the street. And behind her stands Big Ben, proud and tall. "London." Now the buildings grow taller around them and the words on the storefronts manipulate to what is likely an unfamiliar language. "Japan." Then it all fades away again and they're back in the cell. "It all depends on you, Mister Ivanov."

"Nonsense," is Giselle's airy reply as she sweeps around one side of the cell, one pentip being taptapped against the blunt wooden board. "We're not asking you about your abilities, Ivanov. We are expecting you to show them to us. /Much/ though I would prefer otherwise, no harm will come to you—" here, her gaze turns to Candice's false form-"thanks to our illusionist's abilities. She will shape a reality around you, and you will respond." Her voice is still oddly dreamy, lofty and grandiose, especially compared to her normal growl. It seems like she's enjoying herself far too much before they've even begun.

Fel takes a pace back. He doesn't want any of them any nearer, if he can help it. "Fine," he says, calmly.

Candice hmphs. She's never seen anybody react so lamely to that particular trick. He's only making this harder on himself. "Batter up." Suddenly, Giselle's clipboard is swapped out for a baseball bat and Candice is pitching a softball to her. "Go for a home run."

Giselle's arms are still at her side, of course, and beneath the field fantasy she is peering at and flipping through the papers of her clipboard thoughtfully. "(We can start with this)," she comments in a pre-specified voice that will only be audible to Candice through layers of illusion. Her actions hint an indication that the softball should be made to fly at Felix - but probably not as a batter. He should be deflecting the brick-hard projectile with his power, not a supplied bat.

Felix waits patiently. All the cinematics don't seem to affect him all that much - his expression remains neutral, as if he were merely standing at a bus-stop.

Giselle, or at least the illusion of the woman wielding the bat, swings at the ball and it goes flying toward Felix. He may know it's an illusion. He may. But when it hits him in the shoulder? It still feels real. Candice growls and throws another ball, this time directly at Felix, the bat fading back into the clipboard. "You had best start showing us what you're made of, Ivanov." The second pitch collides with the opposite shoulder, even if he tries to dodge it. "Because the pain won't go away until I decide it should."

The next one that comes he plucks out of the air, like a juggler - it's an easy, contemptuous motion. One of them he doesn't even bother to touch - the ball merely halts as if it'd hit an invisible wall, and drops to the floor to roll away. Candice merely gets another shrug. It's not much more demanding than what he was doing with Church, thus far.

Candice breaks into a wide grin. "That's more like it." The scene shifts and Felix stands alone in the middle of a New York street. Everything around him frozen in time. Then, slowly, one car begins to shift - moved by an invisible force. Without warning, it's hurled toward the prisoner. Then another from the opposite side.

Giselle is no longer a part of the picture - at least, not /this/ picture; she briefly holds an expression of tension as she lifts up a sheet to scribble something down, but no more. She waits.

This time they aren't stopped. For the cars, he lifts a hand, almost negligently - the motion is gentle, as if soothing an animal. The result is anything but, however. There's the crunch of metal and the tinkling of glass as one car is sent skidding away into a wall, the other simply squashed flat as if it'd been dropped from an immense height. There's still no sign of strain; his face retains that masklike impassivity. The blue eyes are alive with something like curiosity, though.

On Giselle's part, there is also mute curiosity on her face as she watches it all, though her lips are twisted with some sort of sourness. "(Try something more brutal?") She suggests to Candice. "(Put him on a spinning board while knives are thrown at him, or something. Use your imagination.)"

"(I am perfectly capable of using my imagination, Muldoon.)" Candice glares at the other agent for a moment. Suddenly, everything is fire - to Felix, at least. The heat is more than just uncomfortable. It thins the air. And the smoke is choking. From above him, the roof begins to collapse. Heavy, flaming boards crashing down.

It looks for a moment as if the collapsing fragments of architecture are going to crush him. But they tumble off to one side, as if there were some sort of invisible shield over him. He remains unmoved, even standing among the heat shimmer and the smoke. Candice gets a mere lift of his chin. That's the worst you can do?

Growlgrowl. "(Bullets?") is the next terse suggestion from Giselle, whose hand is busily working away at a clamped angle. On second thought, it might not have been a good idea to have told Felix in advance he was going to be exposed to illusions.

No. Informing him of the illusions makes for the perfect control. When the scene shifts back to reality for Felix, Candice is in her chosen form. Everything about her is darker when she's using the persona readily identified as Candice Wilmer. "Play time is over." She takes two steps forward, hands in her pockets. There's a sudden flash and a deafening bang. Even though the illusionist may not be the crack shot that some other agents are, she can hardly miss Felix's thigh at this range. Not unless he pulls off some very slick moves in the split second warning between the noise and the bullet that would surely pass through his leg.

"Evidently," Felix says, still apparently imperturbable. The bullets hover there in the air, gleaming, until he reaches up to pluck one of them delicately and palm it. The other clatters to the ground and rolls. "Is this real?" he asks, looking past her - he holds up the bullet between thumb and forefinger, before his eye as if it were a gem and he a jeweler, and then peers past it at her. Then he flicks it forward.

The sudden darkening of everyone's world may not have stirred Felix, but Giselle is gripped by a reaction that seems very logical to her at this moment. "Candice," she snaps, raising a hand to smooth and stroke the pads of her clipboard in apparent anger. With the dissolution of the illusion, both Felix and the other woman can hear it plainly. "We brought you in here so that Felix wouldn't be exposed to the real possibility of harm. Don't do that again."

Must be real, because Candice ducks for cover when the bullet is sent flying her way. "I'm done with him. He's not any fun." She straightens up, her shoulders back as she turns for the door.

The bullet *thunks* into the wall behind them. "Such indignation, when you'd love nothing better than to see me bleeding on the floor," Felix says, with genuine amusement, laughing a little at Giselle.

It's true! Giselle's not denying it, though at this moment, she's not saying it either. "We'll be back for you, Ivanov," her low voice promises. "This isn't me. It's the Company who wants all this "protect the prisoner" shit; not me. We're not done testing you." More can be expected later after she has had time to confer with others for whom this information would be relevant. As far as Candice departure goes, though, she's also done here - and a minute later slips out again after her, literally shaking the doorframe with a -SLAM-.

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