Los Angeles, the city of Angels, so to speak. From a distance it looked beautiful, a modern haven, with nothing left to be desired. Bu get closer and you'll see the pain, the frustration, the shame. From the view of a casual observer, it seemed like anarchy, a disease in serious need of treatment. But to its citizen's, this was as good as it got. There was no black or white. It was grey. Perhaps they were good people before they got here, but the city tainted them. If you mix a little black with white it will turn grey. And no matter how much white you mix in there, you'll always have grey.
But Deep below the bowels of the city laid the Dollhouse. Everyone had desires and the Dollhouse was designed to cater for those needs, namely the needs of the rich and powerful. Unlike the streets of LA, the Dollhouse was very definitely split into two factions. The good and bad. The right and the wrong. Black and white.
Programmable people, it seemed absurd, a total violation human rights. Those opinions would be mostly spot on. Only it wasn't absurd, it was happening, right under the noses of everyone.
"Did I fall asleep?" Topher smiled, clasping his hands behind his back, stepping towards the chair. e HAfter months of programming the 'Dolls' and then snatching those memories right back out, he'd gotten used to the usual cold tone the 'Doll's' used.
"For a little while." But could he really blame them? They'd been taken from their lives and had their entire personalities wiped. This was all done voluntarily of course, not that the government would see them eye to eye on that.
Letting Echo sit up, Topher had already began tinkering with the chair she was sitting in, the same chair that could give and take memories with the flick of a switch… or a dozen. Exhaling calmly, Echo let a small, warm smile cross her lips, speaking in a low, almost monotonous manner. "Shall I go now?"
Taking the wedge out of the chair, Topher made his way over to a cluster of machines, all chirping harmoniously in the background, not even bothering to look over his shoulder as he replied. "If you'd like." Slotting the wedge into one of the machines, he clicked his fingers, grinning widely as a light flashed as if congratulating him on another successful job, well done. And of course as if the universe was restoring karma, Mr. Dominic stepped into the room, pushing his way past Echo as if she were nothing more than dirt on the bottom of his shoe.
Stepping out of his way, Echo smiled apologetically, as if it was her fault Dominic had walked straight into her. Pushing the door open slowly and sauntering her way out of the office she placed one of her hands on the banister, her footfalls light and barely audible as she made her way across the walkway. Turning her head to look out over the walkway, her long brown hair, hanging loosely around her shoulders, Echo caught Victor's gaze. The two of them stopped in their tracks at the same time, as if having a procedure drilled into them. Raising her left hand she gave him a small wave, her smile widening as he returned the gesture. From behind her, she could hear the faint sounds of voices raising, a pair of silhouettes, scurrying past the tinted windows on the double doors.
Victor lowered his hand, moving his eyes to follow Echo's gaze, his brow furrowing as the shouts began ringing out across the entire room. As the pair of silhouettes exited the fully tinted room and entered the fully glassed room, Victor finally caught sight of the two people in question.
*
Placing his hands on the banister, Laurence Dominic sighed heavily, his fists gripping the banister tightly. He hated everything about Topher, from the day he'd met him he knew they weren't going to get along. It didn't help that Topher seemed to have that ridiculous grin plastered onto his face. Twisting his hands around the banister as if he were imagining it was Topher's neck, Dominic began grinding his teeth together, venting his frustration out. "Dom.. can I call you Dom?" Raising his hand and glancing over his shoulder to object, Topher continued without even giving him chance to open his mouth. "I think you're over exaggerating, I did my job perfectly, I was given faulty information. And whose fault is that? Not mine."
Spreading his arms wide and walking towards the banister, Topher stepped as if he were a God among men, which in the Dollhouse was for the most part true. "You programmed him to speak French and sent him to a Russian conference." Dominic snarled.
"Foxtrot always seems to have a problem with languages." Topher shrugged his shoulders, smiling weakly as Dominic shook his head and chewed his lip, hanging his hands loosely over the side of the banister.
Even if Topher wasn't going to admit it, it was his fault. And everyone knew Dominic was gonna got an earful from Adelle for it. "Just fix it."
Topher scoffed and pushed himself away from the banister, watching as Dominic exited the room and strode across the walkway, towards the elevators. Saluting Dominic as he stepped into the elevator, Topher exhaled deeply, stepping back into the tinted room. "Aye, aye."