Containment Facility Sixteen

[adamanta]

In the american southwest, there are massive prison complexes maintained by the US government known as the Containment Facilities. The Containment facilities house some of the world's most dangerous humans, metahumans, monsters, and magi, captured by the governments of the world and entrusted to american security. Up until very recently, they were thought to be the ultimate in security, for even their existence was a closely guarded secret.

It was in such a faciluty in the searing desert that there was a comfortably air conditioned room containing two men, one well dressed and best described as dapper, the other occupant's scruff seeming perhaps a little out of place. There seemed to be a spirited discussion, with the dapper man's face turning purple as he shouted things, interspersed with calmer bits. The older, dapper man, who had a look that just screamed "Warden", adjusted his tie, and tossed a folder down in front of the only slightly younger man in the brown duster, and motioned to it, then turned his back to the man, hands clasped behind him, staring out at the window.

Pan the view in closer, through the window, and, if you will, watch the old man's face as the other room's occupant inspected the file. He had a smile. Not a smug, mocking smile... but one of grim satisfaction, one of a job well and truly pulled to the best of his ability.

Warden Daniels had done his best. He really had. He'd called in every favor he had at his disposal, not to keep the troubles with Facility Fourteen any kind of a secret... but to grease the ears of a certain few - secrecy was almost automatic, he had to fight to get anything out at all. It was by these means that he'd contacted... outside contractors to handle something for him. It was by these means that he'd called upon Mr. Jones. He'd carefully tied up his own feelings in a neat little bundle and hidden them in his depths. He got the feeling that having Jones hate him a little was a better option than have the man... heavens forbid, pity him.

Men like Jones, they needed to play the part of the Paladin, and weren't geared up right for heartfelt pleas... come to that, neither was he. He'd just spent the last half hour shouting at the man about words like jurisdiction, safety of the public, and danger, and then, once he was CERTAIN he had the man wound up befitting the task of undertaking such a... challenging case, the Warden had narrated that case's file... leaving out the last bit about the commendation and his personal comments.

He decided that was for Jones to read. Warden Daniels would sound soppy and weak if he had. He wasn't a man to sound... soppy. He had a reputation, and that had been under attack lately for the prison break and his actions on that night, and even if his well-cut suit and stern profile would never let that past, he was a man walking on thin ice and oh didn't he just know it. He'd rather keep up the facade of an unbending man who did what he had to and... didn't care for Her more than he had to. It was a clever old man's gambit, and it depended upon the willing of another man.

[Jones]

Jones was getting fed up. On three separate occasions he had to use every inch of self control he possessed to not grind out the cigarette in his fingers out on the man's bald little head. He was already enraged truth be told and the agents that had had to accompany him had discreetly posted themselves as far as they could from Jones and still remain in the room. Their eyes kept darting to him like villagers gazing at a volcano and there was no virgin in sight to toss in. The fact the company made him take them at all just irked Jones all the more and they knew it which just added to the pants wetting terror. Despite this all Jones appeared calm. Cool, collected... unless you looked in his eyes then the rage seemed as concentrated a laser beam. He knew they thought he hadn't heard but he had over heard one of the agents with him mention "That feeling you get when you look in his eyes right now... I bet that would be what it would feel like to look the Death Star's cannon straight down the barrel." There had been a few subtle nods all around.

Slowly Jones lowered his cigarette and ground it out on the no smoking sign on the desk right in the middle of the O in NO. Slowly he reached up and snapped his fingers loudly and pointed to one of the agents. It took him a second to realize just what Jones want and then he practically ran to the desk and places a briefcase down on the desk, he pulled out some paper work and placed it in Jones's hand.

"You see this Mr. Warden? This is... a member ship certificate to a My Little Pony Fanclub?... Franklin..."

The Agent swallowed loudly.

"Yes Mister Jones?"

"... We will discuss this later..."

The Agent nodded grimly and replaced the papers with another set which Jones took a moment to read before nodded and turning them to the warden as he sat, Brown leather duster over black suit, a grim avenger just short of cowboy boots and ten gallon hat.

"This gives me jurisdiction to... well anything I @&*-@^*! feel like. Including giving your job to a potted plant."

Jones stood his chair being knocked unnoticed to the ground by the sudden movement as he slammed his hands down on the desk.

"I AM going to go down to the block, I AM going to talk to this girl, I AM going to offer her a job and if she accepts I AM taking her with me... You know... I am taking her with me anyways and guess what? I CAN! If she doesn't want a job, still wants to be locked up then I know a nicer place, a safer place, a place she can get the mental health she needs after what has happened to her. Now you WILL get the @*!@ing keys, you WILL unlock the door in my way or I will break them open MYSELF EVEN IF I HAVE TO RIP THEM APART WITH MY BARE HANDS!!!... While you are at it I suggest you call your bosses and tell them to not get comfy... I have a strong feeling this entire operation is going to be looked at from top to bottom soon... and many people will probably lose their jobs... IF THEY ARE LUCKY!"

Jones was angry, she had been a girl, a little girl going through a horrible time. The worst time in her life, changing in ways she couldn't imagine and instead of getting help when she needed it they had gone on a witch hunt... a witch hunt with a little girl thrown on the fire to burn. Jones's teeth began to grind almost audibly, his fist squeezed so tight into fists his knuckles were white as the froth of a tidal wave coming in to crush the shore, his eyes gleamed like silver and small objects around the room were beginning to lift, to float unattended as his rage mad itself felt in the room. The next words out of his mouth were growled out between clenched teeth. The low growl of a bear about to take the head off some idiot hunter.

"Now are you going to get the keys or do I have to stop being so friendly?"

[adamanta]

Bing-bong, point - Jones!

The Warden let a little grin pass his lips as the searing commentary from his guest supposedly blasted his proverbial trousers off. He knew he'd reached out to the right man the moment he'd walked in the door and shook his hand, but it was always nice to get that little tingle to tell him that he had, in fact, chosen well. It was nice to be right, even if everything Jones said was probably true - he would be up for review, him and his staff. The reviewers would swim in a sea of red tape and they'd see each prisoner and interview the surviving guards, and the Warden knew what each of them would say... it would be what he wanted to say, and exactly what he could not say.

When he turned to Jones again, his expression was soft, a warm smile at the man - sincere down to the wrinkle, but only briefly. He should have been pissed about the overhead, about the foul language, and he knew all this only distantly. He just did not care. What Jones was saying was true, and it did no good to argue the point. His expression hardened again into the warden's "I own everything here and you're a bug" look expected of him as he reached for his drawer, drawing his keys from the depths.

Some minutes later, the pair of them were walking at pace down the corridors. The Warden had been silent, and the men were unarmed, walking at pace just to the side and behind Jones as he was led to the deep containment. The Warden's gait was stiff, and he used a cane that he only marginally relied upon, but he kept pace well enough to make the winding corridors and containment sections breeze past with the air of a man who walked these halls often as a matter of course.

Eventually, he reached Cell Nine in the maximum security, and the unarmed guard outside the door, a young man in his early twenties perhaps, saluted crisply. There was a twelve pack of cola at his feet, and a chair for him to sit in - which was pointedly empty. The box was half-empty, but only two of the cans were at the man's feet. The rest were unaccountably missing.

"How is she?" the Warden asked under his breath, and the man straightened a little.

"She's awake, sir" and because he didn't seem to think this was good enough, he went on "Is everything alright, sir?" he asked, albeit a bit nervously, looking from Jones to the Warden again.

The Warden turned to Jones a little, giving him a cool stare as he said "CO Michaels, Adamanta has a visitor." he said, and the man nodded with a soft 'yessir.' and knocked on the door.

"Hey Ada!" he called as he did, and a woman's voice, or perhaps's a girl's voice (it was difficult to tell - it seemed to doubletone between a lighter, higher-pitched voice and a slightly deeper one) responded with a "Yes! I know! One second!" she called, as the guard accepted the keys and turned them over and over in his hand as he waited, looking nervously at The warden, who placed both hands on his cane and rested against it a bit, quite content to wait.

There were some sounds of sliding metal on metal, Ada's voice saying something imperceptible, and a knock came, jarring the door a little. The key was inserted, and the door swung back so the Warden could walk in first. The room revealed was... well, a girl lived here. That much was certain. It was drastically different from the rest of the facility, with a schoolhouse quality (as in, cheap but sensibly comfortable) rug, a bed, a large dresser, a mirror, and a collection - yes, a collection - of cola cans lining... everything. She was holding an open can delicately, in both hands, as if expecting it to explode or try to run away - but probably because she'd crush it if she *wasnt* careful. Admittedly, all the furnishing was made of thick iron, with welds that looked hand-done, but it was, without room for doubt, a girl's room. There was a certain... frilliness that the creamy blue bedclothes only managed to accent, despite the Pink Floyd that was playing softly in the background.

Ada for her own part, was larger than any young woman aught to be - eight feet tall, at least, and built broad. Her skin was a vivid sky blue color, stark in contrast to her facility 'guest' uniform, the trademark yellow of it a bit thicker than was standard with the other prisoners, with reinforced dark brown elbows, knees, shoulders, and abdomen, strapped tightly to her with what looked like elastic straps. She creaked a little as she sat, her expression one of helpful curiosity, ears flicking - they were long, sticking from the side of her head, a bit like a cow's in shape, a bit floppy, seeming to mitigate the intimidation factor of the two horns that swept backward from her temples, then around to frame her face. She had straight hair of a soft pink color down to the roots and eyebrows, a bit bedworn but cared for well. The smell of cheap incense hit the nose like a plush brick.

The Warden smiled at her as she said "Hello, Warden, please, come in!" she said, and as if he wouldn't have unless she did and she wanted his company just the same.

The warden stepped in, leading in Mr. Jones. She looked puzzled at the appearance of the crusty 'gentleman', but her polite, vaugely helpful smile remained.

"Ada, this is Jones" the Warden said softly. "Jones, this is Adamanta - Ada." he said, pronouncing the names differently. Ay-duh seemed more... personal. It was her name.

"Nice to meet you, Jones!" she chimed obediently, and gave him a sunny smile that seemed to give the Warden a curious pause. In truth, he'd never known Ada to smile quite like that. A weight was gone - something black was missing from her, and he was glad of it, but it was... a mystery to him. Again, he decided what he'd done was... correct. To hell with "honor." He'd take Honor over "honor" any day of the week.

[Jones]

Jones was calmer as they walked, physical activity helped him calm, helped him crease out the angry and he was enraged it was a constant loop in his head that this child and yes to him she was a child no matter what she was... had been put in jail for what was a flat out horribly unfortunate accident. She had more then suffered enough for her slip in judgement, her childhood taken away, her sentencing herself from guilt to live in a place like this... he would not allow it. If he had to grab her by the pointy ears and drag her... somehow... from this place he promised himself he would get her out of this place and then take this place apart brick by brick with his own two hands if he had to to make sure this never happened again. He would not allow her to rot away in here.

He thought this while his legs powered him after the warden while in step behind him was the Men With Briefcase as he thought of them. They tended to be a bit weak muscle wise but no one could eviscerate red tape like these men. The fact he had needed them just to get this far angered him all the world but he was glad they had come one had... insisted... saying they had done at least just as much work as Jones himself on this one and they deserved to see the punchline. Jones... had to award that gumption. So here they were as Jones worked on regaining a facial expression that wouldn't scare small children and as they approached the cell, as it was opened... he saw something that made it less hard to look plesent.

Furniture... real furniture that someone had had to make for her. Shelves for a obviously cherished collection, it was a girls room... none too different then what... then what he would have made for his own little... he pushed back that thought and rammed it deep she didn't need to see that anger, that surge of rage reform instead pointedly not looking at the warden so as not to blow the cover of a man he was getting a... hunch... about... a hunch that was confirmed from the nice feelings about the Warden that were coming off Ada he took a step forward and nodded his head politely while reaching up to touch his forelock. There was a the sound of snapping metal and sliding rods as from behind him one of the Men With Briefcases took a chair... a real folding chair... out of his briefcase, unfolded it and put it next to Jones so he could sit down. Jones raised an eyebrow and nodded as he reached into a pocket and pulled out a business card and held it out to the girl.

"Hello to you Ma'am. I am Jones from the Icarus Foundation. We... well first of all we are sort of taking over this prison. Not violently but legally. Some of the personal well hold their positions, some will need to explore the workforce... but there seems to be alot of corruption inherent in the system and I... We... will not stand for it. Your case was brought to my attention and I will not stand for the injustice done for you. We have constructed... well... a home for you... built just for you. A place you can live, spawl out, learn to control your powers with help who will arrive and see you whenever you desire. People with powers or backgrounds that might help."

Jones wished he could take a sip from his hip flask but her knew this was a bad time.

"In addition I want to offer you something as well. The chance to do some good in the world. The chance to save many people, to stop things that hurt people for no other reason then so they can feed, or it , or to gain power, or just because they can... there are monsters in the world... and I don't mean you miss. You are no more monsterious... then..."

Jones sighed, a sound like a wounded animal he looked up and knew... she might need to know something... he sat down slowly on the chair and then turned to look at the Men With Briefcase, the Warden, The Guards.

"All of you. Gone now. This is between me and her for the next fifteen minutes. Come back then."

His gaze was steady this was not a request, it was a firm prediction of the future that brooked no arguement. He let the Men With Briefcase wave papers the threatened the others with everything sort of deportation while he turned to the girl and motioned at her chair.

"... Can I tell you a story only a few people have ever heard?"

[adamanta]

The look on the giantess's face as Jones and the Men With Briefcases entered her room with the Warden was one of complete and utter puzzlement - she kept looking between them, her cheerful smile fading a bit to a look of worried puzzlement. She wasn't sure WHAT to expect... but it seemed like a folding chair was not among these, especially not from the besuited man holding a briefcase... and ESPECIALLY not from a briefcase itself. She blinked. He was scruffy, he was rough and he was not what she'd have called all that clean... and he was a complete stranger, yet seemed to command great respect - even the warden seemed to defer to him, watching her closely.

The look on the Warden's face was comforting though - it was soft, his expression mild, vaguely smiling in her direction, his eyes giving a friendly twinkle. She couldn't miss what the scruffmaster was saying though. Her eyes darted to him, failing to hide the ghost of anxiety she felt. She found herself sitting straight in his presence. What he said... didn't make sense to her at first. The memory of.. well, what had happened was a bit of a ghost - she'd forgotten in the last couple weeks somehow... what with one thing and another... but injustice? She'd killed Him, hadn't she? Was this... pity? Mercy? Redemption?

She opened her mouth to say something as he paused, but shut it again - she had no idea what to even begin, and he continued.

The idea of helping people... of using her powers for something worthwhile... she looked to the warden, to the young guard - she'd saved their lives, and she'd received commendation for her actions, but even now she wasn't sure of everything... that night was a blur to her. The two of them were... smiling at her. Tears were already forming. She wasn't a monster, and somebody knew it now? She'd known it, and in some kind of unofficial capacity, the Warden knew it, and... at least some of the guards knew it. She blinked, looking at the floor a little, ears flicking a little as she tried... very, very hard not to cry.

She barely noticed the others leave. She was in her own little world, and Jones was in it with her. The door shut behind the Warden, who was the last to leave.

That left the two of them.

"Yes..." she whispered softly, her voice trembling.

[Jones]

Jones reached into a pocket and then stuck it back in. She didn't need smoke fumes on to of everything else. He looked at her and twitched his smile in some parody of a grin. He was trying to figure out where to start, how to start. He had told this story very few time and he never knew how it would go, how it would make him feel. He knew chances were he was insane, that this story just made him worse but... she needed to hear this and that meant he had to tell it. He looked down and decided to just began, he had told this story to a vengeance demon surely he could tell it to her.

"Guilt... pain... rage... self hatred... I am not a stranger to them. I know them well. I hear them speak to me everyday, they ask me why I think I have the right to be alive, why I should be the one that gets to the see the sunrise, why should I be the one who gets to take one breath after another... you... you did something bad but you didn't mean to... I did something worse... by failing to save those that I valued most."

Jones felt a numbness spread through him, a coldness, it penetrated deep into his flesh and through his heart.

"My wife, my child... all I had to do was kill one monster, to be there on time, to be there for them as they had been there for me time after time. I arrived... it was too late but it was still there... still coated in their blood, still grinning through a mass of teeth. I had a chance to kill it, to stop it, to avenge them, to stop it from hurting anyone else... I failed. It left me alive."

Jones looked up at Ada his eyes tired, his body aching but he couldn't stop, had to keep going, because... he could not die... he had to be killed. To just die... would be to mean their deaths were meaningless.

"I tried to kill myself once but something wants me alive... a god a demon? I don't know... but I have realized things over the years. No matter how many monsters I kill I can not redeem myself. I can not make what happened unhappen."

His striaghtened in his seat and looked her right in the eye, his gaze falling upon her and staring into her soul.

"But... if I just don't do anything what would be the point. To sit in one place, to wallow in my pain and self pity hiding from the light... that helps no one. That means nothing. But maybe... maybe if I can save one more person, keep one more family safe. I wonder... maybe I can leave the world better then I left it. Maybe... I can be the miracle for someone else that I wished I had gotten. It isn't about being a hero... it's about keeping the monsters at bay so someone else can go home to their family, to have at least one more good day."

Jones didn't know what else to say but he looked at her projecting as much confidence as he could.

"We can't do it alone. My company needs people like you, like me... To create the good days we don't feel. Would that interest you?"