Tapping. Tapping.

Fingernails clinking against the polished wood of her desk, dark eyes focused with a sheer intensity on a computer screen, waiting with tensed muscles for those files to finally send.

Tapping. Tapping. Had time stopped? It was sure starting to feel like it. 
And it was sure starting to get to her.

Demi slowly stood up from her chair, her face's utterly blank look betraying her clenched hand and grinding teeth as she grabbed a pair of scissors off her desk and made her way to the other side of the room.

Her room was actually an office: a velvet-curtained window just behind her chair gave her a lovely overview of the city below, the walls exquisitely painted with proper care and attention to color and tone, the odd painting hung along those very same walls. Her large, imposing desk sat in the very middle, its exquisite, shining hardwood make taking up much of the room. Pens, stacks of paper, scissors, hole punchers and office supplies galore take up much of its space, the rest alloted to her personal computer, itself chugging dutily along to send those files she needed sent.
Indeed, it was a beautiful room, with lovely decor fitting her station.. though she put none of it there.
It was simply there when she got her position.

Indeed, she only added one thing to the office.. the hanging target dummy she ferociously drove her scissors into. Just another of many, many holes on the poor thing.

That felt better.
Demi, Chief Minister of the Ministry of Peace, returned to her desk to check on the progress.

The Ministry is a pivotal government organization within the Inner City, one of few who answer to none but the highest authorities within the Government. Their task? To enforce peace and order within the Inner and Outer city. Peace.. order.. compliance.. addiction.. fear.. all end with satisfactory results, so it's their job to sow those seeds along every inch of the Government's property. 
And under Demi's watchful gaze, the harvest was bountiful indeed.
But try as she might, there's always someone out there sowing discontent instead.. discontent with their glorious city, their measured grip on the emotion of Man, the distribution of such.. 
And even worse, the whispers of rebellion.
Nothing brought the blood flowing through her veins to a hotter boil than that.

Her gaze slowly fell to the empty bottles in her open drawer. Her alloted emotions for the day.. pride, joy, peace. All empty. 
She was an obedient girl. Whatever orders came from above the ladder, she followed to the letter. When they gave her a measured amount of emotions for the day, she accepted graciously: nothing she wasn't used to. Just another example of her glorious government's system working right. 

But she was starting to feel those emotions slip away; withdrawal.

A little jingle from her computer, and her black eyes darted to the monitor; the week's report on the Ministry's status had finally sent.
She was strictly forbidden by higher ups to do anything else until the reports were in.. but now, she has plenty of free time.
And she needs a distraction from the small twitches of withdrawal kicking in. 

Demi slowly approaches the door to her office, pulling her official uniform off the hook before slipping it on in a fluid, rehearsed motion. With just a flick of her wrist, something falls from her right sleeve and into her waiting hands.. a baton.

Why, yes.. a night out sounds wonderful to her.

It's time to pay the outer city a visit.