[color=6ecff6]Chrono 018:24 R&D Maximum Security Ward Subject ID:# 52-0A-351 Subject Name: Ink Status: [ 3 days in solitary without incident ] [/color] The woman was asleep on the floor in the middle of the ten by twenty meter cell surrounded by various small plastic bottles of paint, and a few boxes of used charcoal sticks. The once off-white colored walls had been completely covered with various abstract and impressionistic murals and imagery, many of which depicted mythological creatures destroying buildings, chasing people, and transforming into militia soldiers with the letters “R & D” on their chests . Symbols of unknown origins were drawn on the floor, starting from the corners of the room, and moving into the center. Along the wall, a small cot with a thin mattress, and torn sheets, as well as a small table with a tray of untouched food. A buzzer sounded, opening the door that lead into the room just outside Czigani’s cell, and startled her out of an otherwise deep sleep. “...the fuck!...” She blurted out in an incoherent slur, blinking her eyes rapidly to adjust her vision, and wiping the little bit of drool from her cheek. “Pulling an all-nighter again I see, Miss Salahori?” The lead scientist said, stepping up close to the energy shielding that served as the cell door, and looked around the interior. “I also see your feelings for R&D haven’t changed much in the last few days…” “Yeah well, you bitches suck, your food is shit, and I’ve barely seen anyone come through here, so don’t go telling me what I can and can’t paint old man.” The woman sat up and sprawled her legs out to stretch. Her wrist had been bandaged from the recent incident, and the short dark hair she once had was shaved off completely, revealing several more runic and tribal tattoos, a few that matched what was already on her body. And her silver and onyx piercings were removed, leaving only the holes in her ears, nose, and lip to serve as a reminder. Her clothes, a simple light gray tank top and matching cotton pants, were plain, awkward fitting, and a hard contrast against her tattooed skin. “My apologies Mis-” “I don’t want your stupid apologies, [i]okay[/i]...Doc?” She exclaimed, grabbing one of the bottles of dried paint and throwing it at the energy field, causing it to crackle and waver momentarily. “And stop trying to be my friend for fuck’s sake...” Doctor Kordano let out an empathic breath, and held up the datapad he’d been carrying. “Well, as hard as it is to believe, you’ve been less aggressive since the treatments after your attempted suicide. The massive blood loss you incurred seemed to have put your special abilities in a kind of stasis.” “So what are you telling me, I’m free to go because I’m not a threat to the common asshole on the street anymore?” She said with a wry grin. “Oh wait...that’s right, I killed someone, so ‘no Czigani, you are not free because you are a cold blooded murderer and we need to keep you here for the rest of your crappy life to poke you with needles and shit’ “. Her hand balled up in a fist as she mocked holding a large syringe stabbing herself in the head. “So does that about sum it up, Doc?” The man couldn’t hold back a smile while he stood and watched the woman’s theatrics. “No, you aren’t free, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have something special planned for you.” “Oh? Is it my birthday?” She said, turning her body to lay flat on her stomach, and proceed to do pushups. “Or maybe, just maybe I actually get some fucking brushes to use with the cheap paint you’ve given me, so I don’t have to use my fingers anymore?” The doctor smirked, and pulled up a chair to sit down in front of the cell, placing the datapad face down on his lap. He leaned forward, staring at the woman for a moment before speaking. “Do you know what happened to your brother, Miss Salahori?” He let the question hang, and Czigani, continuing her pushups, stayed silent up until the doctor was about to speak again, and interrupted him. “Yeah. Dumb shit left when I was a teenager and I never saw him again. I hope he’s dead. End of story.” “What if I told you that he didn’t leave you, but he had been kidnapped and held for ransom because of who his father was. [i]Your[/i] father, Captain Jorgio Salahori.” Czigani pushed herself up, rolled back into a sitting position, and stared back at the aging doctor with a wide grin on her face. “I’d say you’re a few cards short of a full deck, Doc. And why in the nine hells would you tell me this anyway?” “Because Miss Salahori, your father was a high profile target by resistance groups run by the [i]children of the dark[/i]. These mutant gangs essentially kidnapped, tortured, and ransomed his life for a large sum of money. When your father wasn’t able to pay on time what they asked for, they killed your brother, and sent the police department footage of everything as a warning. He had nothing to do with any of this, but they used him as bait...” Czigani sat there, her grin faded away and replaced by a burning anger, and tears welled up that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. She stood up, balled both hands into fists, clenched her teeth, and stepped up only inches from the energy field separating her and the doctor. “Show me the fucking footage…”