[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/TYxxRJnQ/Header-1.webp[/img][/center] [center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/MTzHfJQ3/Bombshell.gif[/img][/center] [color=gray]The office decor was rich in reclaimed dark wood and stone, classicly designed and in stark contrast to the rest of the facility and even this wing's generally sterile looking interior and harsh stone exterior. A laptop rested on the desk. The chairs within were a high quality firm leather. A warmer refuge away from necesary order. It was easy to speculate as to whether the reclaimed wood was meant to be something of a metaphor for their place in this facility and the Director's role. But such a conection was beyond Brian's capabilities. Taking his own seat he scowled at Noah from a face still caked in pepper spray residue, as his eyes burned in two ways. Noah’s scowl, however, remained fixated on the floor, her foot tapping against the floor as her mind anxiously raced with all the potential punishment scenarios awaiting her. But just in case either party decided to go for round two, the security staff who had escorted the pair made their presence felt in keeping the two separate.[/color] "I'll make this brief for you, Brian. You've been here long enough. You know the rules." [color=gray]There was no sigh of resignation within his voice. No disappointment. This was duty. This was statement of fact. Cold and unyielding, more aligned with the decor outside of these walls than within. It didn't bode well for Noah, even if this was only her first run-in with this man. And he'd warned them less than a half an hour earlier on the sports court![/color] "You don't take these things into your own hands. You know that. You'll be having a 'cooling off' period." [color=gray]They anger left Brian's face, to be replaced with a look of concern. Whatever this punishment was, he was aware of it, and it was enough to bother him.[/color] [color=palevioletred]"Sir!"[/color] [color=gray]He exploded to his feet. Once again demonstrating remarkable quickness in spite of his size. The Director held out a single hand. He didn't intend for this to be a conversation.[/color] "A week. [b]BUT[/b] we will inform you if there is any change in William's condition. You know how things work here, Mister McIntyre." [color=gray]The use of his surname to further emphasise and bestow the sense of personal responsibility upon Bulk's head. The kid Noah had been introduced to as Bulk looked crestfallen, but made no effort to argue the punishment. Was it because it would do no good? Or because he knew the judgement to be fair? Or did he fear that even worse was possible if he dared to respond like that?[/color] "Now, leave us." [color=gray]In the fraction of a second of a glimpse he gave Noah before he walked away, escorted under heavy guard, the redhead saw a change from the rage-filled face that met her before. But was this a brief look of concern for her, or was he merely looking at her whilst thinking of his friend and his dire state? She would probably never know. The room fell silent upon Brian’s departure, and the atmosphere felt heavy between the seconds until the door closed behind him and the few beats the Director took before addressing Noah. She expected to hear frustration: that such actions were unacceptable, explosive invective… But the thing was: Noah had never directly and intentionally used her powers on another person before. A hundred 'worst case scenarios' had raced through her head as she'd sat outside his office awaiting this time-- and given the sequence of events that had led Noah to this facility in the first place, these weren’t really outside the scope of reality. The guilt, anxieties and fear of the unknown consequences made her hands tremble, even whilst she kept her face firm and unwavering, if only to not make the other boy who was waiting think it was him that had got to her. His tone now shifted, from a firm one of meting out punishment to those who had been made adequately aware of this place, to a slightly softer one which she had been yet to hear-- off-puttingly so. [/color] "I had thought that I had made myself clear earlier in the gymnasium..." [color=gray]He opened, finally puncturing the uncomfortable silence. Immediately, Noah was about to explode with an outburst of an argument: that it was self-defense, that he'd--[/color] [color=gray]Then she caught the wry knowing smile creased across his face. Perhaps he knew more about what had happened, what this Billy was like, that he truly did have it coming his way, than he first let on.[/color] [color=ff6347]"You did. But did you see anything that happened before that?"[/color] [color=gray]She settled on as a reply, trying to control her nerves and avoid sounding combative or accusatory.[/color] "He's a tricky one, William. We change up the camera cycles weekly, for a while there twice a week. It makes no difference, he sees the pattern and acts around them. It means there's never really any video evidence which corroborates people's stories. But there's also too much smoke for there to be no fire..." [color=ff6347]"Then why the hell would you let him--"[/color] "Why would I let him be in the first group of program-attendees that you all met? Well, first of all, that's usually left to random chance. But then I found it tends to work out worse if he's not brought in that way. A group of twenty, six long-timers, the new group outnumbers him. Maybe he targets one or two, but those six people have a lot more attention from the twenty wary new people who don't know what to expect. If your first encounter is from a larger group setting - say the cafeteria. There's too much going on around them. New people are even more vulnerable. Perhaps not the most satisfying answer, but it's the truth." [color=gray]Noah began to get a sense of why the wry smile had crossed his face once Brian had left. Perhaps he was happy for some kind of justice to have met him, even if it wasn't institutional.[/color] "I know why you're here, however. Your accounts of the incident with Mr Sterling, as well as my own suspicions as to what prompted such a response from you on this occasion with William..." [color=gray]Just the mention of the name of the disgusting pig that was Howard Sterling was enough to elicit a bristling response from Noah. On this occasion, though, the figure of authority standing in front of her seemed understanding-- empathetic, even: a completely different experience from the one she’d had with the university officials. She remembered how his laying down of the law in the gymnasium took the form of a plea for empathy from the group rather than a group punishment, so maybe he was going to be reasonable, understanding and fair in her treatment here. The Director opened a laptop computer that rested on his desk, and revived it with a quick tap of the space bar.[/color] "Especially since, on this occasion, he left more evidence than usual..." [color=gray]He turned the laptop around with a video already open and paused to the relevant frame. Billy had been distracted, caught off guard by the series of events and lost track on the cycle of cameras. His hand reached out in a claw-like grasp for a region below her belt.[/color] "So what do you suppose he was doing here?" [color=gray]The Director asked. It was an incredibly confrontational question which he had seemed to spring on her relatively lightly, all things considered.[/color] [color=ff6347]"The asshole was trying to feel me up."[/color] [color=gray]She answered through gritted teeth, discreetly trying to fight back the fight or flight response that activated in her the second she’d laid eyes on the video clip. The Director took a second to turn the laptop back around, and nodded understanding her response.[/color] "That's good." [color=gray]He replied.[/color] "Your testimony combined with the footage should make it possible to deal with him should his condition change--" [color=gray]He turned the laptop back around, and used a pen to point at another boy - the quiet, handsome one with the cool-looking hair she had seen on the bus - who was sitting in the background playing chess with the blonde girl she'd boarded the bus with. His own hand was also clawed over a chess piece, while his eyes were barely slits as he glared beneath his brow in concentration. It was an easy detail to miss. She certainly would have, even with the video still, had it not been drawn to her attention.[/color] "But I was asking about [i]him[/i]..." [color=gray]The pen tapped against the screen, right against his shock of discolored hair. The Director held tight eye contact, watching closely for her expression and response to the question at hand.[/color] [color=ff6347]"I-- uhh-- he looks like he's playing chess."[/color] [color=gray] the young woman said dismissively, but the hesitation was enough to give her away. She certainly thought he was doing more than just that. She remembered how Billy's hand had frozen on the spot, never finding what he was grasping for, as if an invisible force was stopping him in his tracks… Even if she didn't understand why the young man had taken such actions to protect her in the first place, it was pretty obvious that he had been the one to save her. But why would she snitch on the man and his actions? Rowell had said it earlier himself: to not take justice into their own hands? He might forgive her for her own response and be empathetic to her situation, but that didn’t mean he’d be so lenient with third parties getting involved and stirring up trouble. Strangely, the Director smiled at her response, as if somehow satisfied by it.[/color] "Perhaps..." [color=gray]He said. He turned the laptop back around and tapped in a few commands, looking down at the screen with a wider smile, before closing it again.[/color] "I meant what I said earlier, about taking things into your own hands. But given how this specific situation turned out, and given that you were-- targeted... in this situation. Your probable concerns for how this would be handled after what saw you brought here in the first place, I think you've probably been through enough and know not to respond this way in the future? Yes?" [color=gray]Noah had opened her mouth to respond when she saw Rowell open a side drawer from his desk and place some objects on the wooden surface, directly in front of her. The vape pen and pack of spare cartridges that had started all of this.[/color] "In fact, it's probably left you feeling quite anxious." [color=gray]Frowning with confusion, the young woman looked up at the director and saw another smile there once again. She was immediately suspicious of the offering, considering what had happened the last time someone pretended to show her any form of kindness. But unlike the circumstances with Billy, this exchange appeared genuine, with no ulterior motives or hidden conditions.[/color] [color=ff6347]"Oh my God, [i]thank you[/i]" [/color] [color=gray]She replied gratefully as she pocketed the vape pen and cartridges before Rowell could change his minds, breathing a sigh of relief. It was a nice consolation gift considering the latest trauma she had been subjected to.[/color] "I've been told your guitar has passed through security and should be waiting for you on your bed, once you get back to your quarters. Banks here will walk you back." [color=gray]He gestured to one of the two guards who still held her in close scrutiny. The red haired girl rose and was joined by the guard as they walked to the door.[/color] "Dinner time will be in half an hour. I'd tell you let the rest of your group know but they've all been shown to their individual quarters. Just know you won't be confined there for more than the next thirty minutes." [color=gray]Well, [i]this[/i] had been a surprising turn of events. Rather than wallowing in despair at being given further punishment or being subjected to further trauma, Noah felt more in control than she had at any point since she got on the plane that day. She had regained her possessions, was being informed of upcoming mealtime, provided with means to control her anxiety, and even made privy to some of the behind the scenes facts of this place. The cameras, that animal Billy and his reputation… Even the strange actions of the cool-haired boy who seemed to be her hero in disguise (she’d have to tackle [i]that[/i] later). Most importantly, her one-on-one time with the person who ran this place made her realize that he wasn’t a callous dictator, but a fair, reasonable leader open to discussions who kept his word and was willing to fairly punish those who deserved it. Taking his last statement as her queue to go, Noah stood up, smiled at the older man and took her leave, allowing the guard to close the door behind her. The Director re-opened the laptop and tapped some commands in, before smiling again at the screen.[/color] "You want to know why I did that." [color=gray]He uttered aloud at the weighted silence from the remaining guard in the room. He didn't respond, but his posture suggested he'd hear any explanation which was provided.[/color] "Two months..." [color=gray]He replied to the void. As if that was enough of an explanation in and of itself, until extrapolating further.[/color] "Aegis provided two months of 'free, privately funded therapy' to him to find out what he knows… And got nothing. The report from the therapist was that there could have been twelve months of sessions and he still would likely say nothing." [color=gray]The guards eyebrows rose, as he absorbed what he was being told, unquestionably.[/color] "In that household, he's either an absolute fool who somehow knows nothing, or he's a genius who has somehow managed to bottle it all up and never said a word." [color=gray]The eyebrows dropped as he took this new information, the further explanation, on board.[/color] "A five minute look at his report cards down the years will tell you David Fermi is no fool..." [color=gray]The Director turned the laptop around, a still image of the boy with the two-toned hair on board the bus standing over the sleeping red headed girl with his hands up, fear in his eyes like a deer caught in headlights, a look across his face as if he'd somehow he'd been left exposed to all the world, was left upon the screen.[/color] "...so perhaps it will just take something else to get him to open up."