2007-08-12: DF: Evolutionary Mistakes


DFCass_icon.gif DFLogan_icon.gif


Logan checks on Cass' progress. There is some name calling.

August 12th, 2009:

Evolutionary Mistakes

Undisclosed Office

Though Cass has been given a comfortable place to stay and work in, that doesn't make it any easier to look through the files that she's been given. It's been a struggle to even start reading them. Sitting at the desk, still under watch by those two silent guards, she has a distinctly creased brow just flipping through the papers. This is obviously something she does not like doing. The only good thing about this move so far is that she can tell the time of day - sunset. Blood red and orange colors the papers in front of her, casting a decidedly beautiful but creepy atmosphere.

The only warning that Cass is about to receive further company apart from her stoic guards is the opening of the door. No announcement, no flair - Logan walks through the door, dressed much the same as he was last meeting, save for this time, he's managing without a sling. Whether he just got sick of it, or he's healed enough to not need it, that's up to the audience at home. In his right hand, two wine glasses. In the other? A wine bottle. Not merlot, however - sauvignon blanc. Everyone needs a little variety. The door locks automatically when shut behind him, and he approaches the table. "Is it over your head?" he asks, of the papers laid out in front of her.

When the door opens, Cass doesn't look up. She's the one sitting behind the desk and while she's the one who's been made prisoner, that doesn't mean she can't try to give herself some control over the situation. Or at least act like she has some. After a few moments of silence, her eyes flick up to take in Logan. Wine bottle. Glasses. Oh, so is this trying to be her friend Petrelli and not yelling, cold and creepy Petrelli. Good to know who she starts off with. The glance only lasts a few seconds before she's turning her attention back to the desk. Maybe not even looking at the papers in front of her. "No. But, you are certainly in over yours." Even if she's not watching Logan, she knows where he is in the room. Never take your attention off of a rabid dog.

There's a hollow kind of clinking sound as he sets the glasses down onto the desk, Logan standing on the other side of it from her, just next to the accompanying chair. "Is that your professional opinion?" Logan asks, as he uses his left hand to smoothly fill the glasses to an acceptable amount. Not the liberal indulgings of mugs from wine-drinking sessions past, obviously. "Because you should know that I value it highly."

No, indulging in merlot with mugs would signify that they this was her friend Nathan again. Not whoever he's become now. Cass eyes the glasses, but doesn't take one. Not yet, at least. "Yeah, you value me until you decide to kill me." The memory of Mohinder isn't very far from her mind. How could it be considering her predicament. "This is insane." Her hand waves vaguely over the papers. "You can't do this to people, to a /species/." That would be her professional opinion.

Wine poured, and Logan takes his seat, picking up his own wine glass although not tipping back a sip just yet. The mention of killing goes overlooked - there is really no way he can dismiss what he'd said, and he's not about to try. He gestures towards the pages. "This begun when detainment camps started to fill, Aldric," he says. Looks like we've graduated to just the last name minus a title, which is mostly how he addresses people, save for those that share his last name. "It's a process, not a future plan. With your help, we're hoping to decrease the likelihood of failure."

With shaky hands and a disgusted look, Cass shoves the files away from her when Logan attempts to justify this disgusting practice. "I'm not about to help you test on human beings. People are the way they are for a /reason/. You can't force evolution." The name change graduation means little to her as nothing he can say will make her warm to him. Even just sitting opposite the desk from him makes her skin crawl a little. This man she spent two years trying to understand the progression of how he could have turned into the man wanting to do good into this shell of a person. "There should be no plan, no process. You can't do this people," she repeats.

Logan sighs, as if disappointed, wine glass forgotten in his hand as he levels her a stare, one of slight impatience. "You're not here for your sense of ethics," he says. "Ethics doesn't get a say, times are too…" He gestures a little. "Turbulent. You're here to help bridge the gap. Do you want another war to occur? Or would you like to assist us in the solution?"

Impatience? Cass isn't here to care about Logan's patience. Well, maybe that's why they brought her here, but that isn't what she's going to do. "I'm not about to be that person who says she was just following orders." Back to the Nazi claims. "Times are never too turbulent for ethics. A sense of what's right and what's wrong is what makes us human. This isn't a solution, this is a recipe for destruction." Folding her arms on her desk, she leans forward just slightly. "You can't engineer a race. Beyond ethics, beyond right and wrong, there are /laws/. Natural laws you're never supposed to cross. Didn't you ever see Jurassic Park?"

As she speaks, the glass is set aside, freeing up that hand for Logan to absently flick through the papers she'd studying. He raises an eyebrow at the mention of Jurassic Park. "I did," he says. "You'll be pleased to know, then, that this building has upward turning door handles." He sits back in his chair once he's found the page to refer to, tapping the edge of the desk. "These theories wouldn't be possible if humans didn't have the potential to become Evolved," he says. "If it makes you feel any better, you can see it as accelerating a process. Activating it. This is our destiny - a shared destiny. Be glad I'm giving you a choice between being tester and test subject." The wine glass is lifted. "So cheers to that." And sipped from.

There's a roll of Cass' eyes when she hears Logan's quip, but she doesn't comment on it. That would probably humor him too much. "The whole /point/ of evolution is that it's supposed to be slow. Everyone has the potential to be anything. But that doesn't mean you /should/. There's a reason we evolved as we did. Our environment shapes /us/, not the other way around. We had a shared destiny before you decided to become a sociopath. You just can't understand it, so you ruined it. Like the little boy who breaks his sibling's toys because he can't play with them." When Logan raises his wine glass to her, she picks up her own. It's slow and deliberate. Is she actually going to raise a toast to not being tested on? No, instead, she flings the reasonable amount of liquid right into Logan's face. "Human beings are not test subjects."

He only has a split second to turn his head so that the sudden splash of white wine doesn't, at least, it hit his eyes, but that hardly matters. Odd the way he can react to a gun being pointed at him without too much drama, or even Peter's illusioned injury trick igniting only human fear rather than anger, but the insult here is a whole different story. Because that's what it is - insult. Logan sets his own glass down harder than necessary, wine spilling over the edge, as he mops away the liquid now staining the front of his shirt. For a moment, he only seems inconvenienced in his anger, but then abruptly, he stands, left hand suddenly lashing out to grab a handful of Cass's shirt, of hair - he's not really picky of what, but either way, he pulls her to stand in a sudden jerk of strength, almost unnatural of Nathan, let alone the nature of the movement itself. Harsh, demanding, disregarding of boundaries between two people. "I'm not a sociopath," is what he has to say.

After her action, Cass was, of course, expecting a response. She braced herself for anything from wiping away the wine and continuing as usual to an attempt at bodily harm. So, when she's grabbed by the shirt and dragged up to a standing position by force, she may gasp involuntarily, but then she tenses, trying not to turn away from him. Instead, she just gives him a hard glare, staring him straight in the eye. She doesn't answer for a moment or two, as if using the pause to make him think about how he's reacted to her to prove her point as opposed to using words. "You're a murderer, a monster, a betrayer…you're the worst kind of sociopath I can think of." Her voice is soft, but it doesn't need to be very loud to carry. After all, they are pretty close together.

"Betrayer?" Logan repeats, with a short burst of quiet laughter, although in no way does it reach his eyes, which meet hers in a glare to match her's. "You're the ones that turned your backs on this country." With a shove, he pushes her back into the direction of her chair, staying standing himself. "Your diagnosis of my state of mind is unwelcome. Just focus on what you were given, make sure less people die during the process." He's calming down, voice returning to that level of casualness before, if retaining some callousness. "Not that we're running out of 'em anytime soon, but I'm just saying," he sneers.

The shove backwards may intend for Cass to be pushed back into her chair, but the sudden change of balance mixed with the shove cause her to hit merely the edge of the seat and then topple backwards to the floor. She doesn't immediately pick herself up, but she doesn't stay on the ground, either. Once she's standing again, she watches Logan. "No, you did. When you thought you knew better than everyone else." Not brushing herself off or fixing her hair, she crosses her arms in front of her. A little bit of a comfort zone. "You're /sick/, Nathan. You shouldn't be running anything, let alone an entire country. Listen to what you're talking about. What /happened/ to you?"

That earns a smile, still detached, still frosty - maybe a little desperate, too. "Everyone asks that," he chuckles out. A glance to the windows, as one might if something caught their sight, although of course, nothing is there. Nothing anyone else can see. He adds, a little louder, "As if I was worth something." But his attention is back on Cass, and he moves around, as if he might attack her again. His hand grips her arm, and he steers/directs her to sit back down in her chair, other hand coming out to pull the documents back into positions, uncaring that they drag through spilled wine. "If I shouldn't be running anything," he murmurs, "then help me."

The sudden change in Logan, in Nathan, in whoever he is, doesn't exactly throw Cass so much as stills her. She tenses when he approaches, not sure if this is another attack or something else, but she doesn't back away and allows herself to be seated. "You were worth something, Nathan." She can't help it. "You were a friend." Emphasis on 'were'. Pushing those files away as soon as they get close to her, she shakes her head. "I'm not experimenting on people. I'm not /helping/ you experiment on people." Just as adamant before, this plea to their old friendship makes the lab head a little more confused about just who this person is, but it doesn't shake her resolve in her decision on that.

Perhaps in a way, it's difficult to know how to handle an old friend of Nathan's. He hadn't exactly been banking on the idea that it would all go swimmingly just due to a shared history - all that time in between has battered and bruised it beyond recognition, and that was the point. But all the same… All the same. "Pity," Logan says, before picking up the pages as he veers away from her. "We'll be sure to keep you updated of the failures, the successes, and I'll allow you to meditate on those that might have survived had you not been so fucking stubborn." The documents are flung away, in a casual flick of the wrist. "I hope you enjoy your cell, and the company of Mr. Winters. Perhaps one day, he'll put you to a deep enough sleep that this will all seem like some kind of bad dream."

The relationship between them is all but destroyed. What everything Logan has been doing in Nathan's name and as well as kidnapping and threatening her, there's very little friendly feelings left. However, what she gets is angry when he tries to pin this all on her. How /dare/ he. Who cares who he is. Quickly, she's on her feet. While he's distracted in tossing those papers, she's attempts to slap him across the face. "You self righteous son of a bitch. Everyone who dies is on /your hands/. Not mine. You're the one flying in the face of nature and common sense, trying to change human evolution. I'm not Mengele."

And the guards don't budge an inch when she hits him. Maybe they can recognise an attempt on his life from a gesture, maybe they have orders to stay out of it. Maybe they think he deserves it, loyal or not. Either way, nothing stops Cass, and Logan's head turns with the blow. He steps sharply back, looking for a moment that he'll hit her right back, a flash of unbridled anger in his otherwise cold eyes, before the moment passes. She is, it seems, allowed it. His mouth even twists into a smirk. "You're part of the team now, Aldric. Your actions or inactions dictate the lives of millions, whether you like it or not."

As buttoned down as Cass has been in front of Logan, she's an emotional being. Should he try to attack her, she would attack right back. Allowed or not, man it felt good to smack him. His cold, unfeeling manner. "I'm not a part of your team. I'm a political prisoner." There's a slight difference. "I already told you what I thought about your plan. Obviously, you don't want my advice." Glaring at the president, she keeps her hands clenched.

"If a prisoner is what you desire to be," Logan says, simply, that smirk staying fixed. "Then that is what will happen. Although I'm sure other uses can be found of you." He steps back, away from striking range, you know, just in case, and says over his shoulder towards the guards, "Ms. Aldric would prefer her basement cell. Escort her there." Then men obediently move around Logan to take Cass's arms.

Glowering, Cass takes little notice of the men moving to take her arms and put her back in her cell. That's not the part that angers her. She's slowly getting used to the silent guards swooping in to drag her one way to another. "You know, the tough act is almost always just a cover for something else. You're going to break all your toys and find you've got nothing left to play with."

"I think there's more than one act going on in this room," Logan says, raising an eyebrow. "Besides. Toys that don't do what they should? Nothing wrong in breaking those." He jerks his head towards the door, and the guards begin to drag her away, and Logan doesn't break eye contact until they're forced to.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License