(Untitled)

[_java_]

As the hours passed, Java began to lose her sense of time. Minutes dragged by in the darkness, hours, days, years, and it was all the same to her; it seemed a lifetime and yet only moments since her visitor had left her, and Java's mind was beginning to betray her. As much as she had disliked dealing with her guest, it had at least served to

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[_into_the_fray_]

The door creaked open, and the light switch clicked on. A sickly yellow glow emanated from a single bulb attached to the ceiling, covered only by a simple iron grate. The smell of mold and dank that lived in the walls of the small room filled the nose of the man who entered, and served to prepare him for his work. He didn't mind his job, it was what he had been hired to do, and he was good at it. In fact, it was one of the only things he was really good at, and he took no small amount of pride in performing his art. Pushing a small metal cart into the area before closing the door behind him, he watched the woman who was bound to the bolted down chair, her hands tied securely behind her back. She looked strong, her posture willful, even as she was tied and blindfolded, and he allowed a small smile to form on his face at the thought of finally being given a challenge.

Picking up a ripe plum from the plate of food sitting on the top counter of the cart, the man looked at it thoughtfully for a moment before throwing it once up in the air and catching it. His face devoid of any readable expression, the man removed a medium sized plain stool with his other hand from the bottom shelf, grasping it by one of its legs carelessly. His footsteps sounded evenly on the dirty floor of the room as he made his way over to the woman, placing the stool in front of her before taking a large, audible bite out of the plum. Moving around to her side, he looked down at her for a moment wordlessly, as he continued to chew the bite of plum. She looked proud and was staying well pulled together, but he could easily tell she was scared, and hungry; that she was feeling utterly alone in one of the worst ways imaginable. Roger had said she'd given him trouble; that she'd practically laughed when he'd used the bracelet on her. The man hoped she'd try that with him as well. It would make it all the more satisfying when he finally heard her scream. Shifting slightly to stand behind her, the man carefully untied her blindfold, before walking around to the front of her and sitting on the small stool. His expression neutral, the man folded the dark piece of fabric with unusual care, the light from the dull bulb highlighting his thin face. "You can call me Line."

[_java_]

Java's eyes squinted for a moment as the man removed the blindfold, her gaze darting left, then right, taking in the tiny room with the quick, pointed glances of a caged animal. They'd put her in a closet, she realized, her nose wrinkling slightly-- and there was no sign of a surveillance camera. It was insulting, but perhaps useful; if this was the best they could manage, then her kidnappers were likely small-time thugs with specific demands, who had somehow gotten ahold of the bracelet she now wore. After all, anyone who had had any idea of what they were dealing with would certainly have known to keep an eye on her, she told herself; she was strong, she was not to be toyed with. While the cart that had been wheeled in was somewhat intimidating, Java had no doubts that the situation should be more than manageable; she'd been through far worse than a handful of kids with some rope. She just had to stay strong, and things would come together; she had already dealt with one guest, and dealing with another should be a simple enough task.

Her lips curled into a smile as her new visitor moved into her field of vision and sat down before her; they'd sent in another little nerd boy with a quiet voice, who watched her from behind his glasses as he folded her blindfold with a chemist's precision. An easy target, Java thought instinctively; they weren't even trying yet. The boy they'd sent to her was thoroughly unremarkable, save perhaps his extreme lack of visual interest; he was quite thin and plain, with straight brown hair that fell to the tops of his ears, and his face bore no tribal markings. He wore a long-sleeved black shirt and jeans, with no hint of individuality or creativity whatsoever, and in a rush of determined condescension, Java decided that she felt sorry for him. He seemed quiet and dull and very, very bookish, and would be an easy, boring kill if it came down to that. If this was all they had to send her, then this little scenario could probably be resolved in good time, but it seemed almost beneath her to hurt someone who looked so pathetic.

"It's a pleasure," Java purred, leaning back slightly with a condescending little smile as the boy introduced himself. "You can call -me- whatever you like, but," and the smile acquired a teasing, sarcastic edge, "I'm afraid we'll have to forgo any hand-shaking for the time being." The plum in his hand looked delicious, she noticed hungrily, but Java reminded herself that if she played her cards right, she would be out of this soon enough; food should be the least of her concerns at the moment. She had been strong enough to deal with the loss of her husband, she had been strong enough to fight back with her first guest, and she was certainly strong enough to deal with a lack of food. Forcing herself to remove the mirth from her expression, Java adopted a collected, straightforward tone of voice, and regarded her guest with a calm, professional smile. Just put him in his place, Java; no need to be too cold just yet. "All right," she said, carefully, "I'm a busy woman, and I, like you, have places I need to be. You seem fairly--" the smirk returned momentarily, as she searched for the word "--practical, so let's just discuss your demands and get this done with, shall we?"

[_into_the_fray_]

As she spoke, Line watched her intently, taking in her every word, movement, tone of voice, and overall demeanor; his face retaining its neutral expression while his mind calculated and processed the new input with lightening speed. When the woman finished speaking, Line looked at his half eaten plum for a second as if considering. After glancing once more at her face, he once again turned his attention to the plum and took another medium sized bite, his posture as perfect as her own. Silence hung in the air as he continued eating the piece of fruit, his gaze not returning to her until he'd eaten the last bit and discarded the pit onto the floor. Looking down at his jeans he lazily wiped the remainder of the juice onto his pant leg before finally returning his attention to her.

"You'll have to excuse me," he began quietly with an odd hollow sincerity, "I find it's terribly rude for a man to talk while eating in front of a lady." His voice remained even, and utterly calm as he continued to address her. "Your name is Java, so that is what I will be calling you." Line blinked once before his eyes began methodically searching her face, as if trying to find something very specific. Letting out a small sigh, Line continued, "I do apologize for the poor lighting. Maintenance isn't in my job description--" The back of Line's hand spontaneously lashed out striking Java hard across the face, the flow of his speech never once interrupted, "so I do hope you won't be holding that against me." Not bothering to see what damage the blow had caused, Line stood up quietly, moving the stool back an inch or two before making his way back over to the cart; his slow even pace never wavering. Picking up a large dark blue piece of thick material, he carried it over to the small waist high table by the wall. As he unrolled the fabric, dozens of metallic instruments of various shapes and sizes became clearly visible; each one tucked in a separate pocket made to perfectly fit each item. "As far as discussing our demands with you," said Line, closely inspecting a thin, flat, and slightly curved device, "that's also not in my job description."

[_java_]

The force of the unexpected hit snapped Java's head back and to the side, her face throbbing with a hot, dull pain where he'd struck her. The pain wasn't nearly as intense as what the first man had done to her with the bracelet, but Line's utter spontaneity and his strangely impersonal words made the blow somehow terrifying. The smirk was gone from her lips in an instant, and Java looked up with angry, frightened eyes as the man moved over to the cart. It was just a mind game, she told herself, forcing her expression back to one of controlled calm and ignoring the pain; intimidation took many forms, and she needed to keep up a strong facade if she wanted to maintain her control of the situation. She focused her attention on the boy's disrespect, and on what she would do to him the moment she was free; no one spoke to Java in such a manner, and -certainly- no one dared strike her. She wasn't afraid at all, she told herself, straightening her posture again; she was only angry. So Line knew how to successfully backhand a woman. So what? Java was one of Ram's strongest fighters; in an open fight, she could certainly teach this little boy a lesson. And as for his strangely deliberate mannerisms, well, he was no creepier than Ram had been at first, really. There was no cause to be afraid, she reminded herself; he was still just a strange, nerdy little Virt who would be dealt with.

Nevertheless, she watched him rather cautiously as he moved a roll of fabric over to a table; there was something about him that made Java very uncomfortable, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched him. At the sight of the tools the fabric contained, Java felt her confidence waiver momentarily; he might be only a virt, but if the man was mad enough to actually use them on her... But she wasn't afraid, she told herself quickly; even if he -did- hurt her, he wouldn't do serious harm. She had to be worth more alive than dead, after all; the point had to be to just frighten her so that she would put up less of a fight during negotiations. Well, it would take some doing to strip her of her fight, she thought indignantly; Java was practical, but proud, and no one treated her as this boy did. She collected her thoughts just in time to watch him select a particularly disconcerting tool, and felt her blood grow cold at his words. Discussing our demands with you... is not in my job description... Well, she could play along with that, Java told herself, willing her heart to stop racing. She just needed to stay calm; surely no one would hurt her if they could get what they wanted without doing so.

"If negotiation isn't in your contract," she suggested, her words carefully controlled and her posture defiant, "then perhaps you should find me someone who's more prepared to talk. I think you'll find me to be a logical girl; there's no need to waste our time with games."

[_into_the_fray_]

"That's very considerate of you." Line placed the instrument back in its pocket before selecting a new one and repeating the inspection. "But your concern is unwarranted." Moving over to the cart once more, Line retrieved a small case and placed it atop the displayed tools. With a loud 'click,' he unlatched the fastens, and Line calmly opened the top, revealing a collection of vials each containing a substance of the same color and consistency. "You're not wasting my time." Turning back to face Java for the first time since he'd abruptly struck her, Line ran his hand along the top of the opened case, his face changing slightly from neutrality to a kind of twisted pride. "I'm a chemist of sorts. Well, it's more of a hobby really." His tone held a slight hint of mock modesty before changing immediately to one leaving no room for argument. "There will be no negotiations."

His tone once again changed, his voice now only holding the smallest hint of amusement that couldn't be found on his features. "I think it's time we ran our first test. You claim to be a logical girl, and I consider myself to be a fair man, so I'm going to give you a choice." Line let his words hang in the air for a moment, allowing Java the time to try to figure out where he was headed. "One of these vials contains a substance that's immediately absorbed and neutralized in the blood stream, causing no ill side effects. The other four I'm afraid, all contain a different compound, each with its own unique properties eliciting a specific result. I am going to allow you to choose a vial, or to allow me to choose for you." Bringing a single finger up to his lips, he looked back down at the case, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "Do bear in mind, that I know exactly what each one of these will do, and seeing as I rarely get test subjects, sometimes I can be... overzealous... when presented with an opportunity such as this." Bringing his hand down, Line locked his eyes onto hers, his face once again a calm mask of impassiveness, his voice devoid of all emotion. "You have 12 seconds."

[_java_]

Java's relief at seeing the first tool put down was immediately lost at the man's selection of a syringe and the phrase "test subjects." A test subject? He wanted to use her as a -test subject-? Her stomach twisted as she looked coldly at her visitor, but she refused to show him fear; it had to be just another mind game, and would at worst cause pain. She forced a smile; pain was something Java could live with. She just had to keep calm...

"The middle one," she said, with only a moment's consideration, gesturing toward the box with her chin and keeping her voice calm. All the vials looked alike; there was no point in rationalizing out a choice or allowing herself to worry about the potential implications. Java knew full well that there was a decent chance that the man's needle wasn't clean, that the vials could cause pain unimaginable, and that she was in all likelihood dealing with a madman. As there was nothing she could do to change things, however, she focused her attention on staying calm, letting herself slip into a survival frame of mind and reminding herself that it was she who was the predator here. Line was just a little boy who'd managed to cage a lion; it was -he- who should be afraid, not her.

She kept her eyes locked on the thin face of the man before her, her eyes narrowed and her smile tight. "So you're a chemical researcher," she said, lowly. "I suppose you think that makes you rather dangerous?"

[_into_the_fray_]

The moment after Java had chosen, Line carefully removed the vial from its clamp, holding it up to the light as Java continued to speak. Taking the syringe with his right hand, he injected the needle into the top of the vial and with deliberate slowness, drew out its contents. Line set aside the syringe, as he placed the empty vial in a small plastic bag before tucking it securely away in the case. He regarded Java's words with utter disinterest as he once again picked up the device; dispensing a bit of excess fluid through the tip of the needle as he measured out the -precise- amount. He tapped it once, his face remaining a complete mask.

"You like to talk," he stated plainly before casually walking over to her once more. Bending down beside her, Line was completely absorbed by the task at hand, feeling no need to look into her face for any sort of reaction. With methodic gentleness, he began to roll up her sleeve, making sure that each roll of the fabric was perfectly even. Line adjusted his glasses and moved his head to the side slightly, running his fingers tenderly along her inner arm. His expressionless features didn't change, even as he found the vein he'd been searching for. Roughly plunging the needle tip into her arm, he injected the entire contents of the syringe into her bloodstream before jerking it back out again and rising once more to his feet. Line looked Java directly in the eye, his voice taking on a slightly icier tone than before as the yellow glow of the bulb seemed to make his skin appear almost diseased. "What I've given you is a powerful stimulant. It renders the individual under its influence incapable of losing consciousness, regardless of the amount or level of pain experienced."

Walking once more over to the cart, his footsteps heavy despite his small frame, Line retrieved another plum from the tray of food absently. Taking a single bite out of the plum, he appeared thoughtful for a moment. On the second shelf, he retrieved a small familiar device with his free hand before returning to Java once more, repositioning himself on the stool in front of her. His voice became slightly curious, but didn't lose its overall passivity. "I try very hard to accommodate those under my care, and seeing as how you love to hear yourself speak so much, lets see what those lungs of yours are truly capable of shall we?"

[_java_]

"There are worse things to love," Java hissed, refusing to show him the pain that the needle jab had caused or the fear that Line's methodical coldness was beginning to inspire in her. The man didn't deserve to see her suffer, she reminded herself; she was still in charge, and Line would have to do much better than this if he wanted any satisfaction from her.

Java had always heard that people in hostage situations thought strange thoughts, and as the man prepared to put her bracelet to good use, she was oddly amused to find the saying true. She had been married to the obsessively clean Ram long enough that Line's failure to disinfect her skin before giving her an injection was somehow strangely upsetting to her, and Java found it almost funny that the stimulant now coursing through her veins and the device in Line's hands seemed inherently less disturbing than the lack of basic sanitation. For all of their problems, she would always be Ram's girl in some ways, and she allowed herself a sarcastic little smirk in spite of the pain. Some things were difficult to kill, after all...

Java looked up into her captor's face, making no effort to hide her amused expression. He seemed determined to be a dick no matter what she did, so it seemed only logical to embrace pain as an inevitability; perhaps a show of strength would remind the boy of just who he was dealing with. She shrugged her shoulders slightly, the smirk broadening as she glared hatefully up at the man with the device. "All right, let's go."

[_into_the_fray_]

Giving no forewarning, Java had barely gotten out her last word before Line jerked the dial up to maximum. The stimulants in her system were fast acting, he knew. Along with the compound's main purpose that he'd explained to her, the combination of sudden excruciating pain with this particular high dosage stimulant would send her system into a total uproar. She would want to not only want to scream out in agony, trying to pull away from the impulses caused by the sudden extreme pain, but she would simultaneously have the urge to run; an action she was currently unable to perform. Line wondered absently what the awful combination must feel like as he focused in on her features.

As abruptly as he'd activated the bracelet, he turned the level back down to zero power, taking another bite of the plum he still clutched in his palm. He waited until he'd finished chewing before he threw the half eaten plum onto the grime covered ground and looked straight into Java's eyes. Without any indication, his hand lashed out once again, striking her open palmed across the opposite side of her face. "Please. Feel free to speak. Feel free to make all the noise you want." His hand once again lashed out, but this time he didn't strike. Using his index finger, Line roughly removed the light trickle of blood that had formed at the corner of her mouth; smearing it on her cheek before wiping off his finger on his right pant leg. "Lets hear that lovely voice of yours. After all, I have been more than accommodating. The least you can do is scream for me." With that, he once again cranked the dial up to full volume, alternating between lowering the impulse level and raising it once more with varying levels of speed. It wouldn't take long.

[_java_]

The bracelets had been especially designed to bring even the most aggressive of prisoners into line; they were meant to quell the normal human by level four or five, the fiery by six, and the exceptionally strong-willed or physically robust by seven. Jay had passed out at level eight; most found the beauty of submission far earlier. In case of a particularly dangerous situation, however, the bracelets had been designed to reach level ten, although this level had only ever been used in extreme situations. For Java, who was already on edge as a result of the stimulants, the pain of the first jolt was absolutely unimaginable; it felt as if her entire body was being electrocuted, as if every nerve was exploding, and she threw her head back, spine arched and eyes slammed shut. She thrashed like an animal in her bindings, refusing to scream, biting through the inside of her lower lip as her hands writhed behind her, struggling to cling to her sense of self, to keep her focus through the pain. She was stronger than this; she wouldn't scream she wouldn't scream she wouldn't scream she wouldn't--

And then it was, suddenly, over. She collapsed forward, suspended by the ropes around her, shaking and trying to catch her breath as her head hung forward. There was a long pause, and then the sound of chewing, and Java raised her chin slowly, shakily, her eyes glittering hatefully as she watched him eat. The plum hit the ground, and then he struck her again, on the other side of her face, and Java was pleased to discover that, after the bracelet, another blow didn't seem so bad; it was at least a physical, honest kind of pain, and the taste of blood in her mouth was almost refreshing. It was real, and it was proof that she was alive, and a reminder that he had yet to get what he wanted from her.

Line spoke again, wiping the blood from her lips across her cheek, and Java barely heard him; her every thought was of her hatred for him, hatred for her inability to do anything to help herself at the moment, and delicious thoughts of the pain Line would be subjected to the moment she'd convinced him to let her go. As Java's mind raced, lost in hate, the bracelet was suddenly back on full power, and she was straining against the ropes, writhing and whimpering despite herself, her wrists pulling frantically apart and tearing the wounds from her earlier struggles farther open. The power lessened slightly, then shot back to full, fluctuating unpredictably and never dipping below unbearable. Java wanted to be in control, he was just a Virt, she shouldn't show weakness, and yet the pain was more than a human could bear. She couldn't pass out, couldn't die, couldn't escape; there was nothing but pain and hate and the blood moving in her veins and the electricity making every nerve scream and a bright light in her eyes that was really in her mind, and Java couldn't stand it. Her body jolted erratically as it twisted against the chair, and then there was no more lip to bite through, and she couldn't stop herself; she was screaming in a voice that was far from human, not even recognizing the sounds as her own as they escaped her lungs, lost in the kind of pain that the body was never meant to bear.

[_into_the_fray_]

Line counted slowly to three before letting up on the dial, savoring her anguished screams as they reverberated off the walls of the small room, noting her body's violent reaction to his treatments. He had done this before, and he knew exactly how much a body could take. The orders he had been given, clearly stated he wasn't to kill her, and wasn't to maim her. It was slightly frustrating, being restricted as he was, but it also increased the challenge, and would make his victory over her all the more satisfying. As he spoke to Java, his voice was neutral, if not holding a slight note of disappointment.

"That didn't take long at all. It seems that you have an easier shell to break than I previously thought." Setting the control panel down next to the stool, Line adjusted his glasses once more, rising to his feet and looking down at her with a look of strange, biting honesty. "Hardly even worth my time." Grabbing her roughly by her hair, Line pulled Java's head back sharply, still gazing down into her face. "I've been told that you were at one time queen of the Techno army. It really is a shame people have no standards these days." He released his grip on her hair in one smooth, forceful motion, letting her head fall quickly downward as he retrieved the control panel and repositioned himself on the stool. "Are you still feeling talkative, or have you gotten that all out of your system now?"

[_java_]

He had pushed her to the brink of what a human, -any- human, could possibly endure, and had then pushed her further, and now Line had the gall to accuse Java of being an easy kill for having merely screamed? Though her body still twitched with the aftershocks of his ministrations, Java's eyes held nothing but hatred as they bored into her captor; she hated him for what he'd done to her, for what he'd said to her, and she hated herself for having given him what he wanted, but she had no fear whatsoever for him now, on any level. He could do no worse than he'd already done, now; there was nothing left to fear.

Java licked her lips, the tip of her tongue smeared with her blood, and gave him a furious smile while her fingers twitched slightly behind her back. She couldn't find the the breath to speak, but she had to respond to him; she had to show him that she was far from broken. "I'm just disappointed," Java finally managed to choke out, her voice a low, raw hiss that quivered with her anger. Another dart of her tongue, another shaky breath, and Java drew herself painfully back to her full height, her strong posture and livid eyes daring him to insult her again. "I thought," she hissed, as she forced her fingers to hold still, "that you'd know better than to push a girl so far so fast." Java wanted to lunge at him, to tell him that she'd see him killed for this, but she thought she was beginning to understand how Line thought, and her body would not have responded even had she wanted it to. Line had the bracelet and a few vials of chemicals, but she was the Queen of the Technos, and he was still just a Virt; as long as her mind was strong, there were ways to retaliate in spite of the pain. "It isn't," and the smile broadened, "gentlemanly."

[_into_the_fray_]

With a barely audible sigh, Line stood up once more after listening to Java's choked out words, peering down at her without any sign of outward emotion. "Your answer is a 'no' then." He said nothing for a moment, looking her over from head to toe like she was a specimen on a lab table, paying close attention to odd, minor details. The condition of the left side of her neck, the timing between the tremors in her foot. His eyes squinted questioningly, his mind sorting through and analyzing each observation, before he walked around behind her and taking in the condition of her wrists. They wouldn't scar, of that much he was certain, but he also didn't want to run the risk of any rats in the building being drawn to the scent of blood.

Without another word, Line walked back to the cart and retrieved a medium sized black bag from the bottom shelf, along with the entire tray of food on the top shelf. His eyes focused on no particular point directly in front of him, Line made his way back over to his charge, placing both items on the opposite side of the stool. "As I have explained Java," he began, using her name for the first time in conversation. "I have gone out of my way to be accommodating, and I find it rude that you suggest otherwise. I am a man of immense patience," his words heavily weighted, "but if there is one thing i do not abide," his hands moving to open the bag, "it's rudeness." Line removed a small dark container labeled M3 from the bag before sliding on a pair of disposable surgeon's gloves. Moving around to the back of her, he examined her wrists once more, his breath falling on her cuts as he shifted his head to take in the different angles. The sound of the container lid unscrewing and being carefully laid aside was the only noise in the room, save for the occasional buzz of the yellow light bulb overhead. "This is a special mixture of my own creation. I perfected it years ago, and it's one of my favorite substances." Taking a liberal amount of the slimy cream, Line covered all the affected areas of her wrists with a painstaking thoroughness. "It's a mild coagulant, and will prevent you from doing any further damage to yourself. For the duration of its application, the salve will harden the skin against any friction damage and is also a powerful rodent repellant. I'm afraid however, that I never took the time to eliminate its side effects." Line recapped the container slowly, before going back over to his bag and removing his gloves. Reaching into one of the side pockets, he removed a white sanitation sheet and wiped the jar to remove any remnants of the substance. "The tingling feeling you're experiencing right now is the first phase. Following this, you should experience an overall numbness of the area finally followed by an intense itching sensation that will reach its peak before leveling off. You needn't worry however, it will be no more discomforting than a bad case of poison oak on, let's say, your eyelids."

[_into_the_fray_]

Reaching again into the dark bag, Line produced a jar labeled RR7 and sat it down in front of him, once again pulling on a pair of disposable tan gloves. Using the same methodical movements he'd used on her sleeve, Line rolled up each pant leg, mentally counting each roll, and making sure each pant leg had an even number. Opening the jar, he began to speak again, his attention centered on her legs now exposed from just above the ankle to just below the knee. Checking once more to make sure her legs were securely bound, he dipped his hand in the jar, removing a small amount of a light clear liquid. "If you think I've gone too fast with you," he began as he covered her left leg in the substance, "then allow me to be a gentleman and remedy the situation." Repeating his actions, he covered her other leg in turn, before recapping the jar, disposing of his gloves, and cleaning up any residue with a sanitation wipe. Zipping up the bag, he removed a ripe peach from the rapidly diminishing tray of food and sat back down on the stool, one arm coming across him to prop up the other as he took a large juicy bite, making sure to finish chewing before he began to speak. "That specific substance is one of my more recent inventions. It attacks the nerve endings of the epidermis before making its way down to the dermis itself without causing any significant damage to the nerves themselves. To put it simply, it's roughly the equivalent of a light pinch that grows into thousands of wasp stings, the nerve endings themselves unable to deaden as the reactive agent revitalizes them again and again and again." Taking another bite out of the peach he again looked mildly thoughtful as if considering whether or not to share something with her. Looking down at her legs, it was impossible to visually tell the stage of progression, but he knew it would take at least until he had finished the peach before it became unbearable. "I was however, able to formulate an antidote for this particular compound. I might be willing to share it with you, but you'd have to ask politely. After all, manners are what keep us civilized are they not?" His posture never changing, Line continued to eat the piece of fruit bite by bite, his gaze locked onto the woman in front of him, never once faltering.