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Old Guard / IF Central Command Post / Barracks / Level 3, Section C, Room 4
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Emotions Legend
[quote][b]Wick (Dec 16, 2002 11:22 a.m.):[/b] Wick was just preparing to leave for work when her door chime sounded. Just now, Wick was not interested in receiving visitors. Just now, work was her life. Just now, though, the doorbell was out of place enough to make her mouth dry and set her pulse racing, and she turned and stared at the door with hopeful fear. For three months she'd done nothing but work and sleep, with food interjected erratically as she remembered it. Memory was now a precious, dangerous thing, and delving into it when not absolutely necessary was strictly forbidden. The memory of love was not something she cared to endure. Bitterness, hatred, betrayal...those she could indulge in freely, but she allowed nothing else to exist. She permitted nothing to strike that she could not contain. Like everything Wick turned her hand to, her focus had caused a reaction. In this case, the catalyst had been her drive to forget herself in her occupation, and the end product was her reassignment to a research laboratory on Earth, effective as soon as her training was complete. In four days she would be on a shuttle to her new post. [i]Maybe he knew. He's been watching me, waiting to see if I would really leave, and now he's come back to stop me. Best not to keep him waiting, or he'll know I knew it was him, and that I hesitated.[/i] She picked up her desk to have something in her hands so they wouldn't shake and opened the door. There was a man standing there, but it wasn't Jordan Windhaven. This man was on the latter side of forty, the sort that could pass for thirty four and chose not to. Eyes the sharp blue of summer lightning looked her over with a hint of dismay; she'd flayed her disappointment into apathy immediately, but not so quickly that her uncle hadn't seen it in her face first. "You should check with your postal service more regularly, Mrs. Windhaven," he said mildly in response to her stony silence. She tried not to look sullen and stepped aside so he could enter, and then let the door shut behind him. She set her desk down on the table with more force than necessary and finished fastening her cuff, determined not to be intimidated. There were two chairs in the room, but her uncle ignored them both and seemed content to stand in the center of her quarters and watch her. "Expecting someone?" he asked quietly, and she straightened her uniform top roughly and turned to face him. His reservedly concerned expression was remarkably readable, and it slowed her response from rude to brisk. "I'm late for work." "The roster says you don't start your shift for another two hours." "The roster isn't giving a presentation tomorrow." Her uncle's concern ushered in a slight bit of sarcasm. "To display your retention of their demolitions courses. You must be nervous." She didn't give him the satisfaction of a glare and continued to get ready. When it became apparent that she was in fact leaving, he lifted her desk when she turned to get it and held it out to her. "We have much to talk about, Mrs. Windhaven." She took the desk from him and met his eyes squarely. "I'm not interested in what you want to talk about, Adrian," she replied coldly. "Nevertheless, it does bear discussion," he replied inexorably, "and because of your obstinate refusal to answer your mail, I've come a great distance at great expense to do so, and when your shift is over, that is precisely what we're going to do." She considered telling him to leave. He had no right to tell her what she would and would not do; he did not own her, and she owed him nothing. She didn't need the Ravenshires for money; her father had enough of it to keep her well-accommodated should the IF suddenly fail to provide for her. What she did need the Ravenshires for was something considerably less tangible, and at the moment she wasn't pining for familial closeness. What finally prevented her from throwing him out was her innate dislike for destroying opportunity unless it was absolutely necessary, and instead of replying she left. [i]Alright, Adrian. We'll talk. But you won't like what you hear.[/i][/quote]
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