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eyesofargos December 16 2009, 03:28:50 UTC
"ARGOS biological console ready for subject interrogation, Dr. Napoli."

The voice was a pleasant, almost human-sounding tenor that seemed to come from the surveillance camera staring unblinkingly at them both from the corner of the room. It still had an oddly artificial quality to it, the tone flat and without inflection or emotion. "Please note that physical proximity of subject to console of less than 10 meters preferred due to more accurate analysis of subject's reflexive and non-reflexive response."

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grey_of_heart December 16 2009, 03:46:04 UTC
"ARGOS is our information liason," Napoli says amiably as he walks behind Gabriel. There is a slight jarring feeling as the brakes are released on what he can only assume is a wheelchair. Soon they're moving out the room and down the hallway. Christ, his life seemed to be one long set of hallways.

"I think you two will get along well." Down in the elevator, down down down to another long, wide hallway. They stop at a nondescript door and Napoli walks back around. He unbuckles something at Gabriel's neck and the gag loosens and is pulled away.

"Gnngh..." His mouth is dry as a bone and tastes like rubber. Before he can say anything, Napoli has the door open and is wheeling him inside.

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eyesofargos December 16 2009, 06:01:17 UTC
The room they enter is enormous, at least the size of several large warehouses. The floor, walls and ceiling are all a pristine white, and the temperature is uncomfortably cool. The floor is metal grating, and underneath snake thousands of wires that connect to the forest of monolithic black machines that stretch in neat rows all the way to the back of the room ( ... )

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grey_of_heart December 16 2009, 13:43:15 UTC
This is not real. This is not real More mindfuckery. More--

But it feels too real. This is his world, this is.

"... Jeff?"

Between shock and dry mouth, it's all he can manage.

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eyesofargos December 16 2009, 19:59:38 UTC
No reaction. No change in expression. "Incorrect. I am ARGOS. Please state your name for the record."

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grey_of_heart December 16 2009, 20:20:31 UTC
"You know my name, Jeff. Look, it's Gabriel. Remember? From the Underground..."

He can't tear his eyes away from the other man. What have they done to you?

I'll take them apart.

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eyesofargos December 16 2009, 20:51:16 UTC
"Subject has confirmed identity of Gabriel Grant, alias Greyhand. Subject has confirmed participation in seditious organization designated the 'Mutant Underground.' Voice and facial analysis confirm." ARGOS is unnaturally still as he speaks. No gestures, no expression, no movement other than what is necessary to speak.

"Subject vanished shortly before reclamation of this facility, removed from cryogenic storage by the terrorist organization designated 'Knights of the Brotherhood.' Purpose of inquiry: ascertain method of escape and disappearance, determine activities while outside of surveillance, obtain information on possible accomplices.

"Please state what happened after your removal from cryogenic storage."

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grey_of_heart December 16 2009, 21:04:28 UTC
"You know--" He raises his voice so that the other, or others, can hear him. "You bastards know what happened to me! You and that bloody bunch of madmen controlling Mayfield." He lowers his voice again.

"Jeff, Christ boyo, listen to me. This isn't you, this is ..." He has no idea what this is. It's madness, all of it.

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eyesofargos December 17 2009, 18:33:19 UTC
ARGOS is completely unruffled by Gabe's outburst, and simply stares at him impassively until he finishes speaking. "Incorrect. Designation 'Mayfield' does not correspond to any U.S. Government project or file. Secondary objective for interrogation is to determine nature and location of 'Mayfield' and determine if activities at said location pose a threat to national security."

He doesn't change expression when he is called by name, but there is the briefest of pauses. "Designation 'Jeff' no longer relevant. I am ARGOS. Please describe 'Mayfield' with as much detail as possible."

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grey_of_heart December 17 2009, 18:42:09 UTC
His response is immediate.

"You can eat shit and--"

Gabriel stops himself. This is Jeff, no matter what the other says. His friend, not an agent or a scientist or whatever the hell else they were employing these days.

"It's a town set in 1950's America Leave it to Beaver bullshit that has no exit and randomly tries to kill you."

Frown.

"What did they do to you?"

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eyesofargos December 20 2009, 19:52:29 UTC
For a moment, there's actually a flash of emotion. His eyes narrow in annoyance, and he seems about to speak when Gabriel cuts himself off. It passes when he answers the question.

"Please clarify," he says patiently. "Phrase 'Leave it to Beaver bullshit' implies forced 1950s American aesthetic and technology. Is this correct? Please define 'no exit.' Physical barrier? Guarded border? Please cite examples of attempted homicide on the part of 'Mayfield ( ... )

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grey_of_heart December 20 2009, 20:02:25 UTC
Gabriel sees the emotion, notes it. Something...

"You should know. Your 'handlers' created the bloody place. How did they do it?" He sounds like a madman, spouting paranoid accusations, but to him this is the only answer, they had to have done it. "Did they plug me into some sort of computer like they did you? How many people have they done this to? They stole your humanity, and they want to destroy our sanity."

He doesn't wait for an answer, his thoughts shifting as his mind processes everything ARGOS [Jeff, damnit, it's Jeff] has told him. His voice lowers to a growl.

"I'll take them apart."

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eyesofargos December 21 2009, 07:03:59 UTC
"If they did create 'Mayfield', I would not be interrogating you at this time," ARGOS says coolly. "Your statement implies that there is a significant non-native population. Cooperation may aid in their removal from imprisonment. And your assessment is, again, incorrect. ARGOS is more than any human."

ARGOS's eyes narrow at Gabriel's threat. Connecting to neural implant...acti--NO! For the briefest of moments, his eyes widen in anguish, but the sudden surge of emotion is clamped down so fast it's unclear if it even happened. "Threats would be inadvisable at this point." Though the infuriating calm remains, he sounds a little out of breath.

INCOMING MESSAGE: SENDER-ID NAPOLI

>ARGOS, your biometrics are showing some sharp increases in your stress indicators. What's going on?_

SEND MESSAGE: RECEIVER-ID NAPOLI

Residual memory artifact causing elevated stress levels. All systems returning to nominal operation.

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grey_of_heart December 21 2009, 14:24:08 UTC
"They never have been inadvisable." Gabriel laughs, bitter and dry. But then he sobers, his face falling into serious lines. "Cooperation has never promised a damned thing either. Even if you did find them, you'd find a way to use the situation for your own gains. They'll get out on their own." It seems he's accepted that the bureau didn't create Mayfield--it's true, why would they be doing all of this? It's a waste of time, even for them.

"And my knowledge of the Underground is years old. Why would you care?" Unless it did still exist, that Knight was blowing steam when he told Gabriel it had been disbanded, that many of his friends still worked--oh, Jeff. You were part of that, in your own way.

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eyesofargos December 23 2009, 03:07:04 UTC
That information is classified. "New surveillance record indicates possible resurgence of mutant-sympathetic organizations. Certain behavioral indicators match those of Underground members still at large." There is a stirring of discomfort. He shouldn't be telling the mutant this.

"However, 'Mayfield' is the main focus of this interrogation. 'Mayfield' represents an unknown. Location and potential threat to National Security must be determined. Request description of 'Mayfield' in greater detail."

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grey_of_heart December 23 2009, 03:29:01 UTC
So they are still alive. Some of them. Gabriel lets himself hope again. There is a reason to try to escape. A reason to try to reach Jeff beyond his basic desire to release his friend from this... this existence. If it's possible. He'd seen the emotion flicker in his friend's face. For a few moments, it eased his tongue ( ... )

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