Note: I wrote all this long before everything happened about my mother's passing. I am slowly getting better but still grieving, and this great sadness has kept my creativity largely at bay. Still, I felt it was best to keep my author's comments as I wrote them alongside the chapters.
I am unsure which was worse with this chapter. Rewriting the whole thing or having to figure out a legit way why Nathan would become less defiant against Frank Conagher. Didn't make it better than when I rewrote this chapter, it was in the middle of a second quarantine in my country, which meant that my brain didn't get the needed stimuli to make up proper strings to weave this chapter together.
But I got it written, and boy, I sure hope it's not trash, for I am unsure if I can rewrite this chapter again.
'This feels so wrong.'
It's a thought that has crossed Nathan's mind several times, giving him a sense of dread each time.
Ever since his attempt to call for help and getting shot by Dell's old man. Mr. Conagher has insisted on keeping him in this room. A room with a nice bed, it is warm, and he gets a good meal every day. It beats what he went through in the other room with the children, and that's what bothers him. He is warm and comfortable, while the children— he promised to protect— are cold and scared. Most likely wondering where he is.
The sound of the door, and not wasting a second, Nathan asks the new arrived. "When can I see the children?" A question he has been asking every time Mr. Conagher steps into his room. And by the look the man gives him, the constant asking is wearing him down, but Nathan just wants to know if the children are okay. Is that so hard to understand? "Come on, man, just let me see them. I bet they are missing me."
"Especially afta you took them away from their families." Nalini adds. She has become extra snarky towards the old man, and Nathan can see why. Being stuck in this room for what has felt like weeks; it's driving him up the wall! Nalini likes open space to move around, and there isn't enough in this room.
Mr. Conagher lets out a small sigh and wordlessly pulls out the chair, where he takes a seat. He sits there momentarily, watching Nathan with those calm but far from as warm as Dell's gaze. "Hav you been readin' thu books I gave you?" He asks, and annoyance sparks in Nathan that the old man changed the topic.
"What does that have to do with the children?" He demands.
Mr. Conagher stares quietly at him, but the look says enough. That old man won't change the subject. Rolling his eyes, Nathan answers the man's question, "No, I don't like reading." though that is partly a lie. He was bored enough to do it, but Nathan has always been bad at reading because the letters seem to jump around. Sure, he can read, but if he does for too long; he gets a headache. Besides, this book makes no sense.
Another sigh and Mr. Conagher asks him. "How am I supposed tuh persuade the others y'all have learned your lesson when you keep goin' against even the basic rules?" Nathan blinks, unsure what this has to do with the children— or that stupid book. "I asked you to read the book to better understand why we are doin' this. But you keep expectin' to be handed everythin' on a silver platter." Mr. Conagher lectures him as if he's a child and not an adult.
It pisses Nathan off to be spoken that way. "Screw you! I don't care why you are doing it; I aunly want the children to be safe!"
"They are."
"Then let me see them!" Nathan snaps back, for if this old fool won't let him, "I don't need your permission to see them." he storms out of the room but stops when Mr. Conagher calls after him: "They are no longer in thet room." Nathan turns to the room he just left. It didn't take long for Mr. Conagher to appear at the door. "The children are naw longer in quarantine. One you broke by the stunt you pulled off, which could've caused a pandemic for thu whole ship."
Again with the lecturing— wait, quarantine? "You put us in that room because you were afraid to get sick?" Nathan asks, and the old man nods. Well, he supposes that makes sense, but why that damp and uncomfortable room? "Why that room?" It does not make much sense. Shouldn't a quarantine room be super clean? John did make a giant fuss about it when Ken came down with a nasty influenza; he made them all clean the house and was extra strict in how they were around Ken. It drove them nuts, but none of them got sick. So surely it worked, and Nathan thought that's how a quarantine works. "It was nasty, and if aune auf my brothers taught me anything; a quarantine zone should be embarrassingly clean." Nalini nods in agreement.
"It was the only room big enough for y'all," Mr. Conagher replies, not commenting on Nathan's last remark. The old man turns back to his luxury prison of a room. "Even with all thuh risks, we allowed you time out in the fresh air. We are cautious, not cruel." Nathan hesitates, but since he no longer knows where the kids are, he follows Mr. Conagher back into his room. Here the old man retakes his seat in the chair, crossing his legs in a relaxed manner. "Now thet we know none of y'all carry a dangerous infection, we hav moved each child to tuh personal quarters." The old man glances back at him, "Just as we have done you."
Okay, that is much better than that room they were trapped in before. But if they got a room like his, then loneliness would now be their enemy. "So let me see them in their new rooms." Nathan argues. He wants to tell the kids he is fine and maybe brighten up their day while he is at it.
"After thus continued disrespect against our rules?" Mr. Conagher retorts with a question, his wrinkled face scrunched up by that big frown of disappointment. "Would your parents hav allowed y'all?"
Nathan is pretty sure his mother would've; ma believed in hefty chores, which would benefit both sides. "Pretty sure ma would— through some hard work." He replies and would be fine if it was through the same punishment system his mother did. "So give me something near them. I'm decent with whateva it is; I will be happy as long as I see them."
Mr. Conagher narrows his eyes slightly, "And your father is alright with how your mother parents you?" Nathan looks away; the mention of that man is still a touchy subject, more so now that he knows why his father left in the first place. He's somewhere out there, fighting against the Magisterium, the opposing side of Mr. Conagher.
Said man took his silence as the answer. "I see. It explains a lot." This confuses him but also pisses him off. Did this old geezer think that just because he only got a mother to parent him, he turned into something terrible?
Sure, Nathan will admit that he often acts like a shithead, but so would everyone if they lived in the area he did— no, scratch that. People like Mr. Conagher would be dead if they lived in that part of Boston! He and his family are fighters, his mother included! "No, it does not!" Nathan argues back, pointing to where he thinks his home is located. "If you were from where I am from. You would be fucking dead! I am who I am because my ma taught me how to survive!"
"You don't have to shout, boy." Mr. Conagher speaks calmly but with a certain firmness in his voice. The old man leans back in his chair and looks as if pondering about something. "I don't think your current behavior deserves no rewards, but if you stop causin' trouble. Do what you're told, then I will speak with thuh higher-ups. See if they will allow you near thuh children again."
"Or I can find them myself," Nathan retorts. He will sneak out again; it does not matter what they will do to him. Nathan will find the children. "and you're not going to stop me."
Mr. Conagher sighs and crosses his arm, suddenly looking tired. "Don't you git it, boy?" Nathan blinks, not sure what the man is talking about. Mr. Conagher nods to the door. "I'm thonly one who is on your side. If it wasn't for mah, the others would've broken your legs and thrown y'all into thuh prison cells." He gets up from his chair and puts those rough hands on his shoulders. It surprises Nathan, making him think the man is trying to get to his level. "I want y'all to be safe, but you gotta work with mah here." The old man speaks in a slow, somber tone, making Nathan think that Mr. Conagher has been arguing with the others all this time.
Makes him wonder, 'How much is this man protecting me from?' not sure, but maybe… he owes Dell's old man that much. Nalini begins to growl, but she quiets down when the beaver puts a paw on her head. Nathan eyes his daemon, she's unhappy for some reason, but he cannot see what the issue is. Turning back to the old man, he sighs in defeat. "Alright, fine." He guesses he can endure this a bit longer, even though it's stupid as hell.
Mr. Conagher nods, satisfied. "Good boy, now please stay here. I will do whut I can so you can see your young friends again." With those words, the old man leaves his room.
Nathan hesitates but walks over to the bed and sits there, unsure of what else to do. His daemon is not as easily calmed, the cat's fur is on edge, and her teeth are showing. "Who the hell is he to tell us what we can and cannot do?" She asks through sneering, revealing what made her angry in the first place. Nathan can see why, he does not like this either, but he can't help but feel guilty for the trouble he has put Dell's old man through. "I think he's trying to help." He argues quietly but can't shake the sense that something is a bit off.
Nalini jerks her head towards the door, glaring like it threw the worst insult at her. "Help my ass. He wants you to sit like a good boy, so he won't look bad in the other's eyes."
The wrongness with the whole situation comes up again. Nathan can't say for sure what it is, only that he NEEDS to check up on the kids.
"This entire situation, it feels wrong." Nalini voices, this time in a quieter voice and given some time to think about it. Nathan fully agrees. Why does Mr. Conagher keep declining his request? It's not that difficult, just let him see the kids for a short time, and then he will be a lot calmer, but no; that old man keeps declining him. If that old geezer won't let him, then Nathan just has to check up on them himself. He wants to assure them he's fine and maybe… see if he can contact that person over the radio again.
It takes Nathan a day or so to set his mind to do this, mainly because he believes Mr. Conagher is trying to help him, but patience has never been Nathan's strong suit. At midnight, Nathan picks the lock and starts searching the ship for the children. In her terrier form, Nalini uses her keen sense of smell to pinpoint the children, but; "There are so many smells, it's all gobbled up together." She voices to Nathan, and he figures it's because people walk down these hallways all the darn time. "No matter, we just have to do this the old fashion way." Nalini nods, and he checks the room by carefully unlocking the doors and peeking inside.
This tactic didn't get him much closer to the children; for every door he checked, Nathan only found the ship's people. One of them was Mr. Conagher, no surprise that the room had several books and a small machine on the desk. Nathan is quick to move on, resuming his search for the children. He walks carefully down a hallway, and right as he turns around a corner, Nathan suddenly finds himself face-to-face with the head-hairy man. "Oh crap," and Nathan spins around to flee, but he doesn't get far, though, for the man grabs his shoulder and throws him against the nearby wall. Not sure which is worst, the hit against the wall or the oily stale smell coming from this man. Seriously, does that guy ever bathe?
"You or the daemon?" The hairy man asks with a low growling voice.
"What the hell?" Nathan asks, only to be pressed harder against the wall, the man repeating his question: "You or the daemon!?"
"It was my ideah!" Nalini cries up to the man, wanting to protect him from further harm.
The hairy man does not let go nor make any move to focus on her. "In that case." The man kicks him over the leg; Nathan yelps in pain and would've collapsed if not for the man pinning him to the wall. "You like to run, don't you? Yet you also got some flighty hands. So what would it be? I shatter your legs or your hands?"
Nathan stares at him in shock or horror. How is he supposed to make such a choice? Is this guy for real?!
The man clearly is not joking around, "Choose, or I will beat you bloody."
He hesitates for a long time, unable to make a choice. Clearly, it took too long for the man starts punching him hard. One of those hits made a sharp pain— the worst Nathan has ever felt go through his side from the punch he took.
He gets thrown to the floor, head slammed against the metal surface hard enough for the world to start spinning. The man lifts his head by pulling his hair. "Choose; it's not that hard."
He's not joking… Nathan has to make a choice… if not, then this man might beat him so much that it will make Lokk's gang look like school kids. It's a cruel choice, but with no other option, then there is something Nathan knows he can't live without. "H-Hands," he whispers. Deep down, Nathan knows that if losing the ability to run— his greatest strength, then he won't have anything. He will be worth nothing.
The man hums, yanks him up and drags him so fast that Nathan cannot find his footing. Before he can regain any sort of balance, the hairy man throws him back onto the floor, putting a plate in his left hand.
He stomps on it.
The porcelain breaks and shatters into smaller pieces by the impact, with most of the shards digging into his hand. Nathan screams at the agonizing sense of the plate's shards going into his flesh and tries to jerk away, but the man's foot keeps him in place, and all he can do is scratch his other hand over the leather boot. Which is as helpful as trying to break a wall with his body weight. "Stop it!" Nalini screeches but can't do a thing to stop it. She can't even figure out what shape can make her stronger than the man's giant lizard. All his daemon can do is watch. The man lifts his foot, but Nathan gets kicked before he can try to remove the shards stuck in his hand, and the other hand goes through the same procedure.
"Leonard, that's enough." Mr. Conagher's voice, Nathan would've turned his head, but his entire mind is set on getting away from this psycho man and getting those shards out of his heavily bleeding hands. "Please, leave him be."
"You told me he would listen." The man— Leonard, speaks, his voice low, like a growl. Nathan would've been surprised that this low voice could be heard— if he wasn't busier crying and trying to force the boot off his hand.
"Leonard."
A long silence between the two. It feels like forever for Nathan, but the hairy man finally lifts his boot, releasing his hand. He can't move, his body in too much shock from this assault. "Fine," the man snorts. He steps over Nathan as if he's trash and further down, "but this better not happen again." the giant lizard snarls at Nalini, throwing her off her feet with a swift tail swipe before going after its other half down the hallway.
Footsteps, a pair of hands; Nathan flinches from the touch. "It's okay. I got you." Mr. Conagher's calm and somber voice, Nathan does not calm much down; he can't. He's too deep in flight mode to fully register that the old man is trying to help.
"Don't touch him!" Nalini snarls.
Mr. Conagher takes hold of him, Nathan tries to escape, but he can't. Next thing he knows, he's back in his room, the old man pouring something over his hands. The sting from this liquid snaps him out of his panic attack. "You should've listened…." Mr. Conagher muses as he removes the plate's shards from his bleeding hands. "Now look at you." Nathan does not answer. He feels terrible but mostly scared. He has endured many beatings from his brothers and rival gangs throughout childhood. But never something like this… usually a rival gang would beat him up to ensure he stayed down, rarely trying to leave scars. But that man… was deliberately aiming to leave a nasty mark on him. "You will bay lucky if you can use your hands properly after thus."
Mr. Conagher continually removes the shards, careful and thorough with that pincer of his.
His hands are covered in cuts, a lot of them deep, but he was lucky. 'If it wasn't fah Dell's father… dat guy might've shattered my hands.' Which might have made him unable to use them at all. "Thanks for saving my ass." He muses to the old man and feels stupid he hadn't listened to Mr. Conagher. He won't make that mistake again.
The old man hums, seemly busier removing the shards from his palms. "I wish you hadn't learned that lesson thus way." With the last shard out, Mr. Conagher starts bandaging them. "But whut's done is done, and I pray you won't pull off further stunts."
"I won't."
Mr. Conagher nods. "Good," he packs the medical gear, and right as he reaches the door, the old man stops and somberly, "Now please stay put and don't ask for the children." Nathan can only nod, barely taking notice of the door closing.
Nalini quietly jumps onto the bed, but Nathan turns his back to the calico cat as she steps closer. This is her fault. He wouldn't have gotten hurt if he had listened to Dell's father instead of his daemon.
She turns into a dog and whimpers, but her human does not look at her. He is angry at her, and she feels terrible for having caused him this pain. She merely followed her nature. Nalini hesitates but slowly returns to the floor, where she hides under the bed in an attempt to be invisible to the world. Maybe later, Nathan will register her again, but until then… she won't voice her opinion.
**Next Day**
A knock and Mr. Conagher enter the room, holding a tray with food. "How're thuh hands?" He asks while placing the tray on the table.
"Hurts like hell." Nathan replies, not making a move toward the food. He does not feel particularly hungry, mind still repeating what happened between him and the hair-man. Nathan can hear Nalini shift under his bed, and although he misses having her close, he's still angry at her. So she can stay down there for all he cares.
Mr. Conagher's daemon casts a quick look at the dog lying under the bed before taking a seat beside her human. Mr. Conagher watches Nathan for a moment before he takes a seat on the chair. "We are approachin' land soon." Nathan blinks, and the old man continues, "When we dock, I would like it if you kept your daemon in wun shape. Best not tuh upset people."
Guess that makes sense; most people do not like when Nalini changes her shape… well, except Dell and that angel. 'I wonda if Dell is wondaring what has happened to me?' Maybe, but Nathan doubts his boss will know where to search for him. He's on his own. "Okay," He replies to Mr. Conagher but has to admit, "but it's not like I can control it."
"It's you who controls thuh daemon," Mr. Conagher tells him like it's a common fact. "bay steadfast in her form, an' she will obey." The old man then gets a distant look, and he smiles. "Dell caught on tuh that lesson quickly. Naira settled at a surprisingly early age." He speaks proudly.
This piques Nathan's curiosity as Dell does not like to talk about his childhood, and the man is always very vague when he does. "Dell neva said how auld he was when his daemon settled. It's like he does not like to talk about it."
"He should. It's not evur day a child knows exactly who they are at such an early age." Mr. Conagher states, still with that proud look in his grayish-blue eyes. "He was around twelve when Naira stopped changin' shape." This takes Nathan off guard; that is crazily early for a Settling! Sure, Dell has often remarked that he was satisfied enough to know what his daily life is going to be, but still… Nathan hadn't even figured out what he was good at when he was twelve. Mr. Conagher must've noticed the startled look, for the old man smiles with a soft— the same Dell would use if trying to teach Nathan something. "You see, thuh reason why your daemon continues tuh change shape is because y'all yet know who you are." The chair creaks slightly as the elderly man leaves the seat. "That's whut the rest of mah co-workers and I will help you with. We want you tuh figure out where you belong."
That does sound nice. Nathan would like to have a place where he won't be shunned. A place where his strength can not only move him forward but be of use to earn him a decent lifestyle. Nathan does not want to be dependent on his family. It's embarrassing enough that he still needs his mother's money just so he can eat.
"And how are ya going to be sure it's a place he actually likes?" Nalini's voice from under the bed. Mr. Conagher scowls lightly at her speaking, but she did make a good point. What if he does not like the place others say it's where he belongs? Nathan likes to run, but there aren't many places where such a skill can be useful. "I doubt you can help me get into aune auf the professional baseball teams." That is a dream job, but Nathan's playing skills have most likely become rusty. The team he was on before threw him off when they realized his daemon hadn't settled. Nathan hasn't played on any team since he was sixteen, so he has only been using a bat when he bashed a rival gang member's head in.
Mr. Conagher eyes him, and the expression on his face is unreadable for Nathan. Only that gaze makes it look like the old man is doing a mental math calculation. Then, the man speaks slowly but encouragingly, "I know sumone who might be able tuh help you reach this goal. When your daemon settles, take thus up with mah again, alright?"
Hold up, "You mean I can become a professional baseball playa?" Nathan asks, somewhat surprised that this dream might not be as farfetched as he imagined.
"If thet's what you strive tuh become and are willin' to work hard for it. Then it will be your path in life." Mr. Conagher replies. Nathan is a bit taken aback that he actually can reach this goal; all he needs is to make Nalini settle, but… Nathan's not sure what shape he wants her to stay in permanently. He likes all her forms and sticking to one… he's not sure he can. Before he can voice these concerns, Mr. Conagher walks to the door. "Come, y'all look to need sum fresh air— remember our little agreement." He reminds him, and Nathan figures that he has to get used to seeing Nalini in one shape.
If he's going to be a baseball player, then an elegant shape is best. Well, that is probably the wild rabbit; it is one of his favorites. Nalini disagrees with him, for when she leaves the darkness of the bed's underside, she's in the shape of a swallow and stares at him defiantly. Daring Nathan to force her into another form. It feels wrong to force his daemon, so he guesses she can stay in that shape as long they are on deck.
"You sure this is thuh shape you wonna to stick to?" Mr. Conagher asks him.
Always having her in the swallow shape? No, Nathan doesn't think he wants that. Sure, the swallow makes him quicker to leap around, but he is also much more flighty than he usually likes. The swallow is not a shape Nalini takes when Nathan is on the attack. "I can't decide which shape I want." Nathan admits, sure, the wild rabbit is his favorite, but even that shape does not involve his entire personality. "None auf them shows who I truly am."
"An' who are you?" The old man asks. Nathan opens his mouth but stops himself. It's first there he realizes that he does not honestly know. He knows his strength and weakness, but what kind of man is he truly? Not a clue. A sigh from Dell's old man, "We will tackle thus issue at thuh facility," he muses to himself before Mr. Conagher waves him to follow.
Nathan does but wonders what the old man meant by that. "Tackle what?" He asks as he follows Mr. Conagher up to the deck.
"Your little identity issue."
Ah, well, that makes sense, he guesses. It might help Nathan finally decide what shape he can see himself in entirely. That would be nice and maybe easier to mingle with people. The sun briefly blinds him as they leave the below deck, and Nathan does have the urge to run around so his stiff joints will be loosened up again, but he highly doubts Mr. Conagher will let him. Besides, a quick glance and Nathan spots the bearded psycho. His freaky big lizard daemon is staring intensely at them while her human looks busier talking with that man who likes to be creepy towards the children.
Speaking of which, Nathan looks around, but he can't see any of the kids. "Where are the children?" but all he gets from that is a nudge to the arm by Mr. Conagher. He looks at the man, and the expression from Mr. Conagher makes it clear that now is not the time to ask such questions, less so when the same man that hurt Nathan is now staring at him.
Nathan knows he must do what Mr. Conagher tells him, for he doubts Dell's dad can save his ass a second time.
Mr. Conagher walks over to the railing, starting out to him. "Look out there," The man points, and Nathan follows the finger. On the horizon, he can see buildings, but not the tall sort he is used to seeing in Boston. The light mist surrounding them is something he is, though, so if it wasn't for the difference in landscape, Nathan would have thought he was still somewhere around the Atlantic inlet. "Thus is Brytain; thuh country of scholars."
This is a weird title, but Nathan faintly recalls his school teachers talking about Brytain and how it got a super large area for smart people. "Why does it go by dat title?" He asks, figuring there's no harm in asking such questions. At least he hopes so; hard to know what he's not allowed to speak about.
"Ever heard of Oxford?" Nathan shakes his head, and he will not admit it's because he kept doing things other than listening during History lessons. "It got twenty-three colleges, all of which welcome men tuh study in whatever field thay so wish." Mr. Conagher explains as he rests up against the ship's railing. His daemon is, like usual, sitting strangely still beside him. "There are other colleges around Brytain, but none of them can compare tuh those found in Oxford."
"Is that where we are going?"
Mr. Conagher shakes his head, and a faint chuckle leaves his lips. "Oh no, none of the colleges can handle whut we need. No," the old man glances at the slowly approaching city of this country's shores. "We're goin' to dock at Bristol. The Magisterium has a more suitable facility for thuh tests and education we will perform."
Nalini flaps her wings at what the old man says. Nathan, too, is surprised to hear one of those words. "Tests?" He repeats, now again worried about what these people are going to do against the children.
"It's nothin' dangerous; most are merely tuh figure out why your daemon hasn't settled." Mr. Conagher speaks. Oh, so those tests involve mainly him; that's fine by Nathan, he can deal. "The few tests we will do on thuh children are like a quick visit to thuh doctor. Don't worry. We are not out tuh harm anyone. Simply educate and ensure the next generation won't be affected by thur wayward parents."
He did mention that, and although Nathan still can't get over that, these people forced the children, including him, away from everything they knew. It seems they did it out of good intentions, even if their approach is a bit cruel.
As they get closer to the city named Bristol, Nathan notices that these waters aren't as calm as he's used to back in Boston. There are constant waves, and it does make Nathan a bit sick to his stomach, but fortunately, not enough to make him throw up.
It's not as cold as it is in Boston. The weather is surprisingly warm, although windy.
The ship dock and Mr. Conagher brings him to solid ground, Nathan catches a glimpse of the children, but Dell's old man takes him away before he can even think about going over to them. "You can drive with mah, Nathan."
"Can't I go with the kids?" He asks, as he wants to be in the same vehicle as the children. Will give him a chance to catch up with them.
Mr. Conagher gives him a look Nathan has seen several times before, one that says he won't be allowed. Nathan sighs but follows the old mechanic to a strange vehicle. It looks like a car without windows but is big enough to house people with the rare large daemons. It bears the colors of the Magisterium. Most of it is red with golden linings, oh, and of course, the big M in the middle of the door.
A motion from Mr. Conagher, and he gets inside. He notices a man sitting up front, hands on this vehicle's wheel. On his shoulders sits a brown dove.
The moment Mr. Conagher closes the door, the person with the dove daemon begins to drive. This vehicle is incredibly smooth in its movements, making it almost impossible to know if they are moving.
Not sure how long they drove around, but it's long enough for Nathan to become restless, and the silence is killing him. The old man must've sensed it, "We should bay there soon." He assures him, but it does not help much with Nathan's mood. It does slightly when Mr. Conagher continues speaking, thus breaking this eerie silence. "When we arrive, y'all will be introduced tuh thuh people who will help us understand your daemon's unfortunate quirk. I ask you will be polite and patient toward them. They are only there to help. You won't bay able tuh see the children for a time. Unfortunately, your past behavior has made mah superiors come to the conclusion that you will only disrupt the children's future lessons if let near them."
He hates that his punishment for his own behavior is, in a sense, also punishing the children. Nathan knows how much they sought him for either comfort or someone to look up to in these challenging times. "Is there any way you can persuade them?" It's making Nathan anxious about not knowing how the children are doing, so if he has to kiss some top dog's boots to be around them, then so be it.
"I will try, but it will bay easier if you stay on your best behavior."
Nathan nods, figuring he can show his more obedient side— as long it reunites him with the children.
A knock on the door that's all it took to snap him out of the intense focus on the test he managed to scrape up. He groans at the interruption and glances at the opening door. One of his fellow doctors appears. "Just heard from the Arch; they got seventeen new children." It's one he considers rigid in his way of performing his research and not worth sharing his thoughts with. Then again, no one here would approve of what he focuses most of his research on. "Hurry with whatever you're doing and get to the entrance. Ross's orders."
"Of course," He fakes smiles at the man, and the other one leaves him be. Yet another batch of children to perform the same old boring tests on. The Magisterium definitely is not seeking people that strive for progress, for Ross is like a rat that keeps pushing the blue bottom for a treat, never daring to try others in fear he will get a mild shock. Unfortunately, that man is his superior, and disobeying this "meeting" will get him in further trouble. He quickly puts away the skin test he managed to grab from one of the soldiers he sometimes has to treat. That is not exactly what he signed up for; being stuck in a laboratory is not his style. But maybe one day, his superiors will allow him out on the battlefield and perform a few tests there. He does work best when under stress, while in this environment, he feels stuck in a tar of stability.
'What's worse, they expect me to play doctor to a bunch of kids.' Another sigh leaves his lips, for this is diffidently not what he signed up for.
He does not fancy kids— other than their devious creativity— but other than that, he really does not have the patience for these smaller and oh so naïve people. 'But of course, they expect me to pretend I care about their feelings.' and that is infuriating. Sure hope they will let him out of this place; he has so far played by their rules.
He takes off the white doctor coat, corrects his shirt, and when sure he looks presentable, "Archimedes," he calls, and the white dove flies over to his shoulder, cooing affections at him. He gives the bird a loving finger scratch before heading out to "welcome" the newly arrived. He joins the other doctors outside the facility and is sort of happy the latest batch of kids arrived today. 'At least it's not raining like last time. Hard to pretend joy when I was soaking to the bone', so it is indeed good timing. Only the scent of damp wood from the building reveals the rain that occurred earlier this day. The truck drives into the driveway. The men put on these children kidnapping duty, get out, and open the back. Slowly the children leave the truck, and he notices this batch looks much better than the last one. 'Huh, it's like they were put in a nicer room this time around.' which is fine by him. Saves him from having to wash whatever child he must check up on.
His superior walks over to them; his entire body is glowing with this fake joy at seeing the children. His daemon is very interested in the children but not in the manner they may wish. "Welcome. It pleases me to see so many of your would come." Ross kneels before the scared children, and he figures the other doctor does that to appear more approachable. He has a face that most people would consider trustworthy, and Ross has this luring the oblivious in learned to the teeth. "You must all be so tired and hungry; come inside. After a quick checkup, we have a nice warm meal and comfortable beds for you all." The head doctor straightens up and walks inside. He does wait at the door, holding it open for them with an inviting smile. Like many other times, some of the children are hesitant but soon enough follow those who immediately falls for Ross's charm inside the facility.
He follows alongside the other doctors and like everyone else, gets saddled with three children. Still, in his friendly character, Ross informs the three children; "This man will do a few harmless checks. After that, he will lead you to your new rooms."
And like every other time this happens, "Come along, young ones." He speaks the line Ross told him to say, doing the same fake warm smile to the three children. Doing his best to pretend that he, in fact, cares for them when in reality, it's more of a monthly grind. The children follow him, and like other times, he tells them to remove their jackets and check them up. This batch may look cleaner, but they still have stiff limbs and minor signs of malnutrition. So their journey from wherever the team took these young ones, the treatment was only slightly better.
He quickly brings the children to the rooms made for each time the facility gets a new batch, and the moment they step inside to join those few there are already inside, he leaves, not going to waste time pretending he cares about them. He does not fancy children, not even sure he pities them for what the Magisterium has planned for several of them. It's not like he can stop them from doing it.
However, as he returns to his office, Frank Conagher arrives. This time with a young man at his side and that scrawny person with a swallow for a daemon does NOT look engineer material. He won't be able to lift a toolbox with those noodle arms. The only thing that has a hint of interest is that clean-shaped burn mark right under the left eye. Makes him wonder what kind of tool left such a mark and what this young man did to earn it. He had expected Mr. Conagher to merely pass him, so he steps so one of the higher-ups can pass him, but the head engineer for the Magisterium stops before him. "Just the person I was lookin' for."
Oh no… don't tell him… "I would like you to become this boy's personal doctor." *Sigh* Great, stuck with the worst kind of job: playing doctor for some random person, pretending he gives a darn about them. He's never going to finish his research at this rate.
But knowing arguing with one of the higher-ups is a bad idea and that standing out will put him in some serious trouble. He gives this scrawny young man a fake smile of enthusiasm to be his doctor. "I look forward to working with you."
"Uh huh, yeah right." the young man replies with a mix of awkwardness and seems to be as annoyed by this as he is. At least they can agree on that part.
Mr. Conagher leaves, and the young man sends him one look, before following the head engineer.
He returns to his laboratory but barely gets the chance to clean up from the children's checkup and set up his personal research before Mr. Conagher and Ross step inside. Restraining an annoyed groan from the constant interruptions. "Anything you need?" He asks them as politely as his irritated state will allow him. Ross gives him a warning look, but he too, would be less than pleased if someone kept interrupting him.
"Yes, we need tuh discuss the sensitive subject involvin' that young man I assigned you." Mr. Conagher speaks, which perks his interest. That young man didn't look out of the ordinary, but clearly, he was wrong. Otherwise, the head engineer wouldn't have wasted his time having this conversation. The head engineer's face drops as if he's about to share some bad news. "His daemon is still of a child." What? Did he hear Mr. Conagher right? That young man, is his daemon still able to change shape? Now that is worth his attention.
On the other hand, Ross does not share his fascination with this unusual quirk, "Impossible, he's beyond that point."
"And that is thuh issue," Mr. Conagher voices, the elderly man's dull-looking eyes meet his. "it's your job to figure out what is causin' it and make his daemon settle."
Oh, he will figure out what is causing it. Pity the head engineer wants him to cease this unique ability. It could be so valuable to have a daemon that can change shape. The possibilities of what perks the daemon's many shapes can grant their human are endless. But alas, the Church does not see it that way. "Of course." He bows slightly towards Frank Conagher, well aware that he shouldn't try arguing his case to make more like this young man. The Church does not like to lose that kind of control. However, he can ask, "Anything I should be aware of?" It would be nice to know if he should have a strong sedative ready. Cleaning up from a fight is such a pain in the ass, and he rather not lose any of his test samples.
"The boy is prone to bay rash and disobedient." Mr. Conagher says, glancing over to Ross, "He is used to livin' on thuh streets, so he got quite thuh trashy attitude. But I think I got it mostly under control."
"How?" Ross asks.
"The boy is very attached tuh thuh children, I first tried tuh teach him proper behavior by keepin' him frum them, but it soon proved that his unruly side was too strong for such tame punishments. So," Frank crosses his arms, a light frown over his already wrinkled face, "Leonard had tuh beat some sense into him; it seems that's all that street boy understands. Thuh scars he will git from that beatin' should make a nice reminder tuh restrain his unruly nature."
That explains the bandaged hands, maybe also the scar. That young man could've gotten it during a fight he went through in whatever gang he used to mingle with. "So if he tries something, I am permitted to use force?"
But to his surprise, "No, your job is to accomplish the task Conagher gave you. And that means gaining the subject's trust." Ross commands him, well that's new. Usually, he is allowed to hit back, so why not with this one?
"May I ask why?" He asks. The young man must already know that struggling will only make him get hurt. Turning to Mr. Conagher. "You said he's unruly, so surely he needs some tough discipline." That's what he went through when he was less careful with his experiments, but unlike him, that young man does not recover as fast as he does.
"You let me deal with thuh discipline." Frank tells him sternly, which irritates him as it makes him think the head engineer looks down at him as if he's a child. "Y'all need to do is bay friendly and fix his daemon."
Well, this is going to be some infuriating months, "Understood," but hey, at least he gets the chance to have a proper test subject for his research. So he guesses this crap mission does have a few positives, even if he has to deal with a street rat who does not yet understand the rules of the Church.
Decided to make another character appearance by following his point of view. I am pretty sure those of you who know Team Fortress are aware of who I wrote about. If you don't know that game, that is alright. I wrote this story so you don't have to know either Team Fortress 2 or the His Dark Materials series.