CP: Crowbar, Pix - Even late to Your Own Funeral - Pg-13aramuinMarch 4 2007, 13:20:57 UTC
He's been waiting months for this, has redirected a considerable percentage of the Agency's resources towards it and filed a rainforest's worth of paperwork to cover his tracks.
The underground lab is the most heavily fortified point in Western US and it took even him nearly an hour and a half to get through the complicated and redundant backup check-points. He still has his pager in hand when the last door opens with a hiss.
Doctor Abramovich was waiting, thin lips pursed and eyes inscrutable behind thick lenses. The agent formerly known as Crowbar (now known to his people simple as 'Mr Thomas') looked him over. "Doctor? There is news?"
"Well, hardly news." Doctor Abramovich turned and marched down the corridor. The greenish fluorescents hiss and sputter overhead as the doctor swiped them through the decontamination chamber and they step out into the lab proper. "But you were wanting to be here, I think, when we finished."
The room was colossal, sterile and white with machines beeping and flickering in the background. An artificial voice comes over the speakers. "Green light in Tank Alpha. Green light in Tank Alpha."
The tank was a massive Plexiglass cylinder hooked up to a hundred beeping, whirring machines. The liquid is smoky, tinted green by the overhead light and there is a girl inside, oxygen mask strapped over her face.
"Can you open it?" Thomas demanded, hands clenched at his sides to keep from reaching out.
"Certai-"
"Do. It."
The doctor plugged a wire into one of the jacks on his temple and his face went slack. There was a rumble, then a gurgle as the liquid drained. Thomas watched as the girl's eyes opened and the thin membranes of her wings flared out against the thick pressure of the fluid. Her feet hit the grating at the bottom of the tank and she staggered as the last of the liquid drained away.
Thomas was moving forward even before the glass tube slid up to leave the girl - Pix - swaying on her own two feet. He hesitated on the very edge, one hand extended towards her. The wings were drying out, light catching on gossamer patterns and he could see old scars, brilliant tattoos but had it worked?!
Big blue eyes blinked slowly open, lashes clumped together by the liquid. "...crowbar?"
Thomas's sudden smile nearly split his face. "Welcome back, Pix. I thought you were going to be late!"
"...late f'r what?"
"A funeral." Crowbar smiled brightly. "C'mon, let's get you dressed."
The underground lab is the most heavily fortified point in Western US and it took even him nearly an hour and a half to get through the complicated and redundant backup check-points. He still has his pager in hand when the last door opens with a hiss.
Doctor Abramovich was waiting, thin lips pursed and eyes inscrutable behind thick lenses. The agent formerly known as Crowbar (now known to his people simple as 'Mr Thomas') looked him over. "Doctor? There is news?"
"Well, hardly news." Doctor Abramovich turned and marched down the corridor. The greenish fluorescents hiss and sputter overhead as the doctor swiped them through the decontamination chamber and they step out into the lab proper. "But you were wanting to be here, I think, when we finished."
The room was colossal, sterile and white with machines beeping and flickering in the background. An artificial voice comes over the speakers. "Green light in Tank Alpha. Green light in Tank Alpha."
The tank was a massive Plexiglass cylinder hooked up to a hundred beeping, whirring machines. The liquid is smoky, tinted green by the overhead light and there is a girl inside, oxygen mask strapped over her face.
"Can you open it?" Thomas demanded, hands clenched at his sides to keep from reaching out.
"Certai-"
"Do. It."
The doctor plugged a wire into one of the jacks on his temple and his face went slack. There was a rumble, then a gurgle as the liquid drained. Thomas watched as the girl's eyes opened and the thin membranes of her wings flared out against the thick pressure of the fluid. Her feet hit the grating at the bottom of the tank and she staggered as the last of the liquid drained away.
Thomas was moving forward even before the glass tube slid up to leave the girl - Pix - swaying on her own two feet. He hesitated on the very edge, one hand extended towards her. The wings were drying out, light catching on gossamer patterns and he could see old scars, brilliant tattoos but had it worked?!
Big blue eyes blinked slowly open, lashes clumped together by the liquid. "...crowbar?"
Thomas's sudden smile nearly split his face. "Welcome back, Pix. I thought you were going to be late!"
"...late f'r what?"
"A funeral." Crowbar smiled brightly. "C'mon, let's get you dressed."
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Thanks Hun.
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