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[Panic!]

In order to be the best,
We need to experience what it's like at the bottom first.

|Isabella Clark|

Bella sat with her back facing the large stained glass window in her local church. Her father had been praying for the sake of her mother that her soul was now resting in heaven. When Bella was three, around this time of year, Bella's mother had died suddenly of a heart attack. The 19 year old sat in the back, paying her respect but not stopping her heart for this cause. She had never known her mother, but she couldn't help but feel bad for her father who cried his heart out every night for the lady who left suddenly. Bella felt wrong for intruding on his mourns, and quietly excused herself to go outside.

The air was warm against her skin, and she searched through her purse for a cigarette. It wasn't to long after when she found one and light it on fire. She took a long drag, feeling the tempory release of stress, but the entirnal damage to her lungs. She had to quit, but she couldn't bring herself to do that right now. A slight breeze blew past her, and she turned to face a group of men who were staring and pointing at her, whispering in hushed tones. Approaching them slowly, she asked,"Can I help you?" Her tone came out a bit harsher than she had hoped.

"Isabella Clark," one of them asked so forcefully, it came out as a statement. "You are due to have your physical now." Bella didn't attempt to hide her disappointment.

"So you guys found me," she said, taking another long drag. She studied them, them with muscles that we're outlined in their uniforms and their strong glares that didn't leave her for a second. Bella threw her empty bud on the ground and stomped on it with her shoe. "Very well, take me away." Instantly, they surrounded her as if trying to prevent her from running and to a tinted car. With no other thing to do but stare out the window, that was exactly what she did. It took a few hours to get from Calcutta to New Deli, but when they got there, the city did nothing less than astond her. She got out of the car and walked up to the large building. Plenty of people walked out though she couldn't shake the feeling that she was about to die. With her stomach skipping time, she continued on forward to whatever awaited her.

"You're Isabella Rose Clark," at lady before thick glasses and a desk asked her. She looked like a social worker who never once saw an ounce of day light. Bella nodded her head, wondering if being said person was a bad thing. Police lined the walls behind them, not looking but definitely listening. She tried to avoid their black states and hurtful judgements. The lady spoke again, after making careful notes on a slip of paper. "Second child of Adam and Linda Clark, who is now currently diseased. You have an older brother who lives in Ireland, correct?" Nodding again, Bella could feel her nerves act up and travel up and down her spine. Why were they asking so many questions? "Do you currently have any mental disturbances or deseases?"

"No, ma'am," Bella heard herself say. She sulked back and watched as the lay wrote some more notes down. Bella looked anxiously at the clock seeing that only 3 minutes passed since she first entered the room. Was that all? Of course, the lady only asked three questions. How much more of this was this lady going to but Bella through? She waited until the lady called one of the guys over and stood up behind Bella, her eyes glued on the clip board in front of her and her glasses balanced on the tip of her nose. The lay nodded towards the guard behind her and waited to see Bella's physical form now, aside from her mental.

The man started by ripping Bella's shirt right over her head and commanding her to do certain tasks like bending down and touching her toes, looking in different direction, and taking certain measurements. The lady continued to scribble down other notes. She didn't seem very pleased as she studied Bella's bare body. "Disappointing," she sighed as she looked back at Bella, who was now facing her. "It seems as though you did not pass." What?! Bella didn't pass the test? What did that mean, would she need to take it again? Were they going to execute her now? She felt the nervousness leave her body and be replaced with panic. The lady continued and said,"You still smell of smoke, suggesting your endurance and stamina are far below our expectations. You are no use to us at this moment, and are permitted to leave now. Have a nice day."

Bella was still in shock as they commanded her to put her shirt back on and leave. What were going to do now? Failing was never an option for her, for she always tried to be her absolute best. She was slightly disappointed, though thankful it was over. She left the building quickly, feeling her body relax and her stomach to go back to it's normal position. She just failed the test... And she couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

{Really bad post, sorry. I am on my iPod right now, so usually my posts are longer and more detailed, but my iPod keeps me from being to creative. Sorry for any typos, autocorrections, etc. It is very hard for me to make a good post on this, but I didn't want to keep you all waiting. Sorry again.}

[eden .]

[ that's no problem, that length is quite nice. And it's no problem, you told me you were going on vacation. Don't worry too much, go ahead and have fun. :3 ]

[eden .]

[ ooooooh sh**. ]

[ also, I'm on my phone guys, so excuse me... ]

[ GUYS, I FIGURED OUT WHY THERE'S A BUNCH OF WHITE PEOPLE IN INDIA. AND I MEAN THAT IN THE LEAST-RACIST WAY POSSIBLE]
[ Also, I made up the nano-transistor thing, although I do work w/ nanotech. If you have anything that you believe might be a conceivable addition to the world of Gray, put it in! Note that the tech of civilians are limited while the secret police are doing underground scientific investigations :3 ]

Sherry blinked blandly but inside she was incredibly frustrated. Clearly she would have to work on her pickpocketing skills. Still, an extra cube of broth was an extra cube of broth, no matter how it came along. She watched in silence as Nick slinked off somewhere and also signed herself out, pausing as the guard at the gate paused to write her down, input the data in a computer, and then stamped her forearm with a nano transistor so thin it would've passed as a fourth layer of skin. It wasn't durable, however. It would probably tear after a day at most, by which time Sherry would be back--or there would be consequences. She knew it was sending out subtle pulses to signal her location. As she looked on the wires copied the likeness of her skin, even adjusting to varying light. Sherry was unimpressed. She had seen it too many times, now.

And off she went. Sherry brushed past vendors after vendors, the once bright colors blanched to grays and blacks. The streets were swollen with people, making the day that much hotter. She threaded through the crowd, no longer apologizing for bumping into shoulders and gaining none in return. It was the norm here. No way around it.

After passing a butcher, where she spotted a young male walk in, Sherry arrived at her home: a modest, out-of-the-way building that was somewhere between a condo and a shack. Sherry, you see, had been pushed off towards the slums. She supposed it was veiled retribution or her parenthood, although that was something she couldn't help. She knew better than to complain, though. She stepped inside with a deep sigh, turning on the yellowing lights and slipping into the kitchen, the cheap, flower-wax-paper covered counters wiped clean. Going to the cabinet and pulling out a glass, Sherry held it under the faucet and watched with a blank stare as a sad trickle of water chocked out from the tap. Sighing a little, she said, "You could've at least waited a day." Turning around and downing the thin layer of water from the bottom of the glass, she wiped the sweat from the tip of her nose before considering the same severe woman from her test standing there, arms clasped behind her back again, her hair trimmed with minute accuracy as ever.

"The Leader waits for no man. Or woman," she responded tartly. "The expansion is happening soon. You should prepare yourself to leave anytime."

"Please," Sherry rolled her eyes. "Not like there's anyone to explain anything to. I'll be ready whenever."

"Make sure of that." Sniffing, the woman stalked out--Sherry never did learn her name--and while the door made no sound even though it always creaked when Sherry opened or closed it, she could tell when she was gone. Sighing, she leaned against the counter tops. Seemed like she would get busy, again.

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ƒємαℓє ● 24 ● ѕєcяєт ρσℓιcє
ℓσcαтιση: New Delhi, Home ● ωιтн: No One

[Nicolae]

Nicolae

Grinning widely, Nick nodded. He didn't buy the story, of course. That was far more money than a rich *ssh**e would be willing to spare in a place like this. Ever. He'd be keeping an eye on this young man, his curiosity struck. "I do, actually. Mostly from my mum." He leaned fully in his side now, slumped casually against the glass of the meat counter. Only he could make this look good. "I'll tell you for a smoke," He offered good naturedly, his dark brows rising.

Naturally, he'd accept the cigarette if it came, lighting up with blind speed and accuracy that came only from years of chainsmoking. The Butcher didn't seem to appreciate this, but there were no laws that said you couldn't smoke indoors, and the meats were mostly sealed off from the air.

If it wasn't offered, he'd still tell Caius. What he said was likely to be nauseating to the average weak-stomached individual, but for him was more or less a cultural treat. "Right so, what you do is you boil it, eyes and all, for about as long as it takes for the meat to brown. Then you take it out and put it in a stew, and eat it all with cooked cabbage. Maybe carrots, if you can afford them." He raised a finger to denote the seriousness of the next part. "You NEED to eat the eyes with it. They're great, good protein, and when you bite them they have the consistency of a grape." He smacked his lips in time to a sudden snapping of his fingers to emulate the popping of an eyeball under the teeth. "Like an egg, the outer layer will break. It's very good." His English was a bit long-winded, and from his accent it was clear that he was not a native Hindi speaker who'd taken to English, but rather had been a foreigner at some point in time.

He paused. "Or you could just pressure cook the thing with some veggies and have soup and roast head."

_________________________________________
Andrei

Andrei had gone back to his hunk of half-prepared meat, pausing from his slicing only to wrap the slices in a thin plastic to protect them from the flies that had gotten under the meat counter cover and sliding it under a plaque that read 'goat'. Then it was back to the ol' chopping block, silently listening to their conversation. He didn't trust either, but he was more partial to the newer man. The first one was just downright creepy.

However, if there was one thing that went his way in terms of personality defense, it was his fondness of headmeat. Nodding sagely at his comment about the eyes, Andrei proved that it was in fact a thing and that Nick wasn't just going to great lengths to upset Caius's stomach, adding to Nick's comment: "Yes. They are good also with a sauce, if you put them with potato." He slid his knife cleanly to the left, separating about fifteen new flowery slices into a new pile.

[paradox.]

A oak haired man was bent over papers. Unlike the usual papers with kids names on them and a grade, this was actually a file. It was his next kill and Julian, as always, was mentally preparing for another kill. You would think that over the course of 6 years, taking lives would have been easier. Sadly, for Julian it didn't. Only the pain got numbed as he watched the people on the files he got cringe and fall to the floor before slowly but surely dying. Julian wasn't exactly masochistic. That was definitely not the reason he stayed to watch them die. The only reason he chose to do so was because he wanted to make sure that they were truly dead. There was a small chance of someone surviving considering the cocktail of poisons he often put onto his weapons of choice, the needle, yet there was still a chance and he was not willing to let anyone get away. So no he wasn't masochistic but very simply put into words, a perfectionist.

Julian shook his head as he read a file. It was a doctor this time who had supposedly begun getting liberal ideas and spreading the thoughts around. He smirked, reading that it had been his supposedly close friend who ratted him out. It was hilarious that humans would betray even their family to get to the top. It was just an example of how sickening the human race was. Julian didn't like to think himself above other humans even if he sometimes acted like it but he was just surprised by how far humans would go to save their own butts.

Either way, the man had run after hearing that he was now wanted by someone. So basically they now wanted to put Julian's tracking skills to good use and wanted him to find the man and dispose of him. This would certainly not be one of the most interesting cases he has ever had but it would have to do. He then swiveled his chair to the right to look at another stack of papers. He grabbed a pen, lying next to the daunting stack before reading the paper over and writing down a B- and circling it. He smirked and began to work on the next one. Being a teacher was certainly more difficult than many people would expect. He would get to work on the case after he finished the stack. For now it would just be him and the noise of an fountain pen scratching on paper.

[eden .]

[ k guys, I added the history of India from the time we know until this year, which I'm keeping conveniently ambiguous. =3= ]

[ GO READ IT. IT'S IMPORTANT CONTEXT. And I also made everything up, and I'm quite proud of myself. |) ]

[Airmid]

Caius

Caius was relieved to say the least when the talk about food seemed to throw the friendly man off the scent of his newly acquired food token. The story was obviously convincing enough, it seemed. If anyone else asked, he'd have to use it again. At the strange man's request for a smoke, Caius reached into his back pocket and pulled out the cheap brand. "They're not brilliant" He muttered, popping the top off and reaching into his front pocket to search for the lighter. "They sometimes scratch your throat" He elaborated with a shrug, pointing the thin tubes in his direction, along with the lighter. "Oh and give the lighter a good strike, otherwise it doesn't work" He again explained in a slightly apologetic tone. This man, looked like the kind of guy who was used to the finer things in life, and probably wouldn't be impressed with his cheap cigarettes. And neither was Caius. India was one of the best places in the world to get luxuries such as these, at a cheap price too, and yet here he was smoking this rubbish.

But- at least it was something right? The vivid descriptions coming from the man, did cause Caius to pause for a moment, taking his current tube from his mouth and blowing out a cloud of white smoke. He politely aimed it away from the meat, just incase he upset the butcher, which was something the mechanic did not want to do in the slightest. He sadly couldn't afford carrots. Perhaps if he'd been less frugal with his meat buying, he'd be able to. He did have cabbage. His house always had cabbage. It was literally the least the government could give them. The part about the eyes sounded....interesting. The man did seem rather enthusiastic about eating them, telling him that he neededto eat them. Which he probably would. For days after too, locals would probably be finding him sucking the marrow from the bones.

The mechanic did pick up the slight twinge in his accent, as well as his odd way of wording things. Obviously not a native speaker. Well- neither was he, but at least he didn't have a accent. For a brief moment, Caius wondered where he'd come from. Certainly not England, with that accent. Europe though? Perhaps. But Caius wasn't one to judge. The last recipe told to him, did however pique his interest. Two meals from one action. Plus he could use his mothers old pressure cooker. And it would last a while. A grin spread across Caius' face at the thought of how much food he would get. A roast head...with eyeballs that were apparently tasty. And some soup that would probably last him weeks, AND some bones filled with the salty marrow that he could suck out, meaning some days he could go without even having to dive into his store of sheep head or soup. This was brilliant. Caius wouldn't feel hungry for weeks.

[Nicolae]

Nicolae

He never did accept the lighter, instead using his own. He'd never cheat on his lady of flame, this lighter had lasted him since high-school graduation. It was small, compact and mostly plastic, the kind of lighter you could buy for three fifty at a gas station back then with a faded flame decal on all four sides, which was worn where his fingers had rubbed the ink away. Nick looked unimpressed, blowing smoke out the side of his mouth and shaking his head. "Man, that's bull." He reached out and clapped a partially gloved hand on Caius's shoulder, looking at him very seriously. "All cigarettes were created equal. Save for Cloves of course. Cloves are supreme." Taking his hand back, he removed the cigarette from his lips only to knock back the last of his drink, swallowing it with a sound that was remarkably similar to the purr of a big cat. Or maybe a small Ferrari.

Nick did notice the slight twitch of Caius's eyes at his vivid description of how exactly one went about eating lambhead; however, he was unphased. He was used to both native Indians and fellow immigrants being mortified by his cultural dining habits, but at least he could claim the victory of convincing this guy to give it a try. He had to admit that he was a tad jealous of the fine dining he'd be enjoying. Despite the fact that Caius saw Nick as well-off financially and despite the fact that Nick was a member of the secret police, he barely qualified as low middle class in India. Between Dispatcher work, which was literally the least involved you could get with the local police department, and working for Gupta's tin refinery, he wasn't exactly involved in any lucrative fields. Head-stew was a mere dream for him.

Still. Off-hours, Nick was a relatively friendly person. Without the immediate incentive to cut someone's eyeballs out, he was pretty normal, if not a little more social than most. Reaching a hand forwards for a shake, he smirked slightly and blew another stream of smoke out one side of his mouth. "Nicolae, by the way. And yourself?", completely ignoring the looks Andrei was shooting him over his meat counter. Let the butcher judge him. He was a paying customer, and if he saw anything that told him Andrei was a 'bad citizen' he could easily have the large man taken care of. He noticed Andrei tense up slightly, which interested him greatly. It was almost as if the big guy sensed malevolent thoughts. Quietly, Nick thought really, really hard about burning orphanages, curious as to whether or not this would drive the Butcher to hop up and down in anxiety. It did not. Nick stopped thinking and resumed smoking.

[Nicolae]

The Grocery is always open, and Andrei never leaves it. There are a few other people there, too.))

[eden .]

[ I can bring out Sherry out of the house for you. I may bring her to the grocer's as well, although that might be too many characters in one place. ]

[ Also. Andrei: forever alone. ]