“Volunteering is just window dressing. I’ve been… ‘recommended’ if you know what I mean.”

Haddix nodded. "Oh. Politics never were my game. Not like I'd get halfway to the booth anyways," he said, nodding towards his forearms. He let a faint smile go, then half a laugh. "I know what you mean. Hell, a month ago I figured my biggest problem was getting busted for unlicensed boxing. And now, here I am." He turned to the doctor. "Say, there's nothing wrong with my hands that I wouldn't be able to fight again, right? I don't think I'm smart enough for any other career."

"Oh. Politics never were my game. Not like I'd get halfway to the booth anyways."

And then a laugh.

"I know what you mean. Hell, a month ago I figured my biggest problem was getting busted for unlicensed boxing. And now, here I am."

Then it was his turn to laugh.

“Well, a month ago I was trying to get into one of the local uni. But …” He raise up his right hand and showed him the bracelet and gave him another smile. He had a feeling that this man, whoever he was, could be trusted. “Guess something’s never meant to be.”

The man turned to the Gwendolyn.

"Say, there's nothing wrong with my hands that I wouldn't be able to fight again, right? I don't think I'm smart enough for any other career."

He’s injured? If the injury was not too serious perhaps… He was already thinking to heal his injury, with the doctor’s consent of course.

Jeminai returned her attention to Mathew after pointing the other mutant in Gwendolyn’s direction. Oh look, there was her wallet. She could have sworn she picked that up. With a sigh she scooped the thing up and cleaned it with a paper towel. Then opened it for a moment to take in possible information on the inside and check to see her money was still safe. Well the money thing was easy because it reminded Jeminai she was completely broke till payday. Yay for romaine soup and thank the maker of romaine soup that in only costs 15 cents a package. 5 cents if Jeminai was lucky and got it on sale.

She took her time, letting Mathew get started with the bleach water before reaching in the box on the counter, and throwing a single pair of rubber gloves at his face. “Thought people like you knew about rubber gloves.”

Just as he finished wiping up the last of the vomit, a pair of the gloves whacked him in the face.
He flinched and dropped the sponge, looking down. He shook his head slowly and had to hold back an incredulous sneer.

Wonderful, he thought, absolutely, unequivocally wonderful.

He held his hands out, palms up. Could bleach cause any damage so soon? No, surely not...
He looked back up at her. Much as he despised her, she had a manner about her, an aura of... well, it was an air of callous nonchalance. He didn't like that in a person. He didn't like anything in a person. However, if there was ever anyone who he would consider almost worthy of being in his company, she would be.. a candidate. He hated people who were 'P-C'. He hated hopelessly hopeful people. He hated everyone, but that was irrelevant.

"The women in this camp," he began, looking up at her carefully and trying to detach himself from what he was about to say, "are being treated to worse that beatings, aren't they."

The question was ghastly and said suddenly, but he had to know. He owed it to those women to know. He didn't care about them in the least, or not individually... but to take advantage, to steal the most precious thing anyone had. That made him sick. It didn't matter to him that, outside of the camps and without the shocks, the guards wouldn't be able to get anywhere near those women. They were still women, mutant or otherwise.
He saw it in two ways. One, that it was just distasteful and obscene. Two, that... well, much as he hated to admit it, he had a weakness for weak peope. Strong people who were being abused deserved it. He deserved this, for allowing her to treat him in such a way. But for those women, some of them little more than children... emotionally and physically, they were powerless to stop the guards. That, above all, was what would send him in the rage which was big enough to kill him.
Absently, he wondered if she felt the same, or if she was the person he truly longed to be - completely devoid of emotion, cold to the world. That would be the answer to all his problems... unfortunately, those damn things called morals kept getting in the way. He didn't have many, but the ones he did have were too strong to ignore.

At the question the very crewel side of Jeminai wanted to blurred out yes. She wanted to tell him in very descript words what the men had put the ladies through just because his pain would be just a little pay back to the male race. The same demented side wouldn’t of just dressed as a nurse and gone to get this mutant and take him in privet where things could be dealt with. She would have called the stalker bots and happily watched the show from her little security office.

She took a minute to stare down her nose at this mutant. This boy. Composing her answer. “You won’t like what I have to say so start slowing your breathing now.”

Saying that she scooped up the bucket and dumped it in the sink. Taking her time to clean the sink now and scrub it herself. This was a guard’s exam room after all. Probably not best to let the inmates to all of the important cleaning like the sink.

She glanced at him for a second, never quite letting herself turn all of the way around. Still alert to every little sound he made and continuing to keep that look down her nose pose. “Many of the male guards have taken advantage of the girls.” Jeminai had watched it in the cameras. The one time she had reported it, the event had been involving one of her superior officers and she was demoted rather then getting the chance to tell the higher ups. Not that they cared. Apparently the treatment of the girls wasn’t that much of a secret.

She continued after a short pause to let that information sit. She would see how well his temper could be kept under control. “a few of the girls who have been taken advantage of have already perished here. Paper work wont say what. The ones that still live, Well one came in the other night. A Red head, who was found by one of her blind room mates.” She suddenly raised an eye brow. Working to reconstruct the callus face she’d developed threw the years. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

His face dropped. The news hit him like a punch in the stomach - he had a sickly feeling, that empty, raw feeling that's like you haven't eaten in days. He tried to speak, he tried to formulate words... but he couldn't. They caught in his throat.
Suddenly he panicked that he was going to get another shock, but upon searching himself he realized that he didn't feel angry. He felt sad.
He looked down at the floor.

Found by her blind roomate.

There was just something chilling about that, about the way it sounded. It touched into a deep, hidden part of his mind, the part of his mind where he'd stored his capacity for caring and pity.
He got up from the floor and kept his eyes down. He didn't want her to see him like this, not while he was weakest. If only there were some way to hide his face... he felt so vulnerable. But he reminded himself, he was nowhere near as vulnerable as those women.
He rallied and steeled himself, looking back up at her. He'd be strong, for the women at least. Once they were out of here, once the shocks were no longer a problem, they could take care of themselves. He couldn't care less about them then; they had their own power. But for now, while they were being raped physically and emotionally, he'd make sure that there was somone strong enough to carry on and avenge them. It gave him a new purpose, a goal - he had to survive this. He had to play nice to anyone and everone, then, when it was all over.... then he'd show everyone in this fucking camp a preview of hell.

Almost literally.

"No," He said to her, trying to hide his pain, "No, that's not what I wanted to hear at all."
Walking back to the metallic bed, he side-eyed her. So she wasn't emotionally inept. She wasn't the beast he'd thought she was...
He gripped the rail on the bed and felt its hardness, its cold, unforgiving surface. He looked at her, directly in the eye.
He spoke, calm and measured. The conviction in his words was unmistakeable.

"Those guards," he said, slowly and with sincerity, "I'm going to kill them. Everyone last one, and I don't care who stands in my way."

He held her gaze, steady and unflinching. He just hoped that she understood what he was really saying to her.

When the time comes, I'm giving you the chance to escape. Run fast, and don't stop until you can't hear the screams.

He narrowed his eyes at her and tried to convey his true meaning. He wondered if she knew that the only thing which had saved her was the tiny light lurking under the black facade.

At that point Grit walked in and looked for Gewn, finding her he asked her "How is she doing?"
He had just recieved news that his little sister had passed away in a car crash, so aside from his mother he felt rather alone and without family, he had come to view the blind girl and the girl he saved as his semi adopted sisters, and cared for them like family, although he did not make a public show of this

OOC: Hi all. Stainding in for Gwen, per Calley's request. Let me know if I forgot or overlooked any details.

IC: "Alan Haddix. I'd shake your hand, but..."

Gwen smirked. Bad pun. Very bad pun, indeed. But points for humor, nonetheless. She turned slightly as another approached, tensing a bit in expectation of another patient.

“Miss Gwendolyn, I am a volunteer and I was told to work in the infirmary. Here are the paperwork and the working permit. I know I am supposed to arrive earlier but I got a bit lost since this is my first time here. I apologize for that.”

She paused her stitching briefly to look over the offered papers, then at the one offering them. He was young, and a bit shorter than she was. And he seemed nervous, understandably so, considering where he was. Still, he was one of the lucky ones; he didn't have to live on-site.

"Volunteer? Who the fuck would volunteer at a place like this?"

“Volunteering is just window dressing. I’ve been… ‘recommended’ if you know what I mean. Things outside were no longer as they used to, I’m afraid. Mutants have to deal with the enforcers at every turn to just survive.”

Gwen huffed audibly, but said nothing as they continued to talk, setting the papers down to finish stitching Alex's hands.

"Say, there's nothing wrong with my hands that I wouldn't be able to fight again, right? I don't think I'm smart enough for any other career."

Gwen raised ons eyebrow. "Your hands will be fine, if a bit scarred up. What work section did you say you were working in again?" She picked up her clipboard and began to write out something. The bold scrawl gave a hint as the mood she was currently in.

Then she turned to the Aisan boy. "Colyn, was it?"

A hundred or more mutants. Fifty guards at a time. Ten fully certified nurses and two doctors. And of those 'ten and two', only Gwen agreed to treat humans and mutants alike. Thus making her the 'liason' between the humans-only nurses and the drafted-mutant healers.

A whimpering James came walking jerkily out of the examination room, as if there was something stuffed into his shorts, face beet-red in both pain and embarrassment, a bottle of rash cream badly concealed in his back pocket. Another guard, walking and looking the same way, took his place in the examination room.

Gwen turned back to the boys, a satisfied smirk planted firmly on her chunky face.

"Well, Colyn, you've been 'volunteered', to work only with mutants at this wonderful day camp. I'm happy to say that you will not touch any human in this camp, unless it is a life or death matter."

Her attention was distracted a few minutes later as Grit reappeared, looking decidedly unhappy.

"How is she doing?"

Gwen's gaze shifted to the curtained off areas on the far side of the room, where the mutants were set to recover from various abuses, one of which Amp and Shya still occupied. Some of her smugness faded.

"She awake," she replied. "I don't think she's up for visitors yet, but...." She shook her head slightly. "Just, don't expect her to greet you with open arms, even if you did help. People deal with trauma in different ways."

"Your hands will be fine, if a bit scarred up. What work section did you say you were working in again?" He could see that she quickly wrote something down on the papers. Well, he wasn’t quite sure if they were readable if she was writing at that speed.

Promptly, she turned to Colyn. He could make out that she wasn’t happy at all. "Colyn, was it?" He nodded slightly in response. Suddenly, he noticed she smiled as a patient of her came out from one of the examination rooms. Note to self, don’t cross Doc Gwendolyn in any way unless looking for excessive pain.

"Well, Colyn, you've been 'volunteered', to work only with mutants at this wonderful day camp. I'm happy to say that you will not touch any human in this camp, unless it is a life or death matter."

”I fully understand ma’am.” He quickly answered, but his voice was already trembling. He didn’t quite like the idea of being stared like that again. He could feel as if their chilling glare pierced through his whole body and tore him apart. He had never felt that kind of feeling before,not even from the neighbourhood of ‘humans’ he had been living in.

This is for your own good Colyn. Just forty hours a week, Colyn. You can do it. He reminded himself, just like an hour after he got the letters, and an hour before he got into the camp and was thinking about running away. But the fact was, he had no idea how long he could cheat himself this time. He smiled, as he always did.

"How is she doing?"

He turned his attention to the man… the Doc’s eyes laid on the curtained areas at the far side of the room. He wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but he knew it wasn’t something pleasant. She lost her smile, and so did he lose his. She reminded him of aunt Cecilia… They looked so alike. Heck, even her sarcasm was similar to hers.

"She is awake. I don't think she's up for visitors yet, but… Just, don't expect her to greet you with open arms, even if you did help. People deal with trauma in different ways."

“Ma’am, if you need me I’ll be around.” He told her as stayed beside the man called Alan. He wanted to talk to him but it was probably not the best time. Listen more, talk less. That was one of the lessons that his aunt Cecilia taught him. Suddenly he realized, he had missed her more than he had thought.

Jeminai kept her expression neutral as she watched Mathew. Not allowing him the dignity of even thinking she didn’t see that compassion in his expression. Similar to the emotion she had just leaked out. Jemmy mentally kicked herself and vowed to redeem that cold harsh work.

"Those guards, I'm going to kill them. Everyone last one, and I don't care who stands in my way."

Some individuals, Even mutants, could be so easy to manipulate. Murders don’t get blamed if there is no evidence linking to them. On that thought Jeminai’s light steal blue eyes looked right into Fever’s, and her chin lowered slightly. As if he were really an equal to her. Some how a smile managed to slide across her face, revealing perfectly even teeth, and creasing the sides of her cheeks. “

“Until that time comes, you will listen or be punished.” She gave her button on her remote a little tap just to make his arm band buzz. “because if you pull that crap again, you won’t meet another guard as generous as I am.”

Mathew watched in amazement as a smile crept across her face, like the dawning of a new age. No, more like watching the elements wear away at a cliffface, at accelerated speed. He raised an eyerbrow.

So she wants this as much as I do.

He worried for a time about his brash statement. Who was he, to talk about killing people? A little boy, barlely out of school... he still got asked for ID to buy cigarettes...

Ah, what I wouldn't do for a cigarette right now...

He brushed the thought away. How a cigarette would relax him... sigh.
He shook his head and blinked. Withdrawal syptoms, he couldn't deal with. Not on top of all this.

“Until that time comes, you will listen or be punished.”

The backup band on his arm gave him a short, sharp shock.

"Fuck!" He cursed, grabbing his arm and looking at her in askance.

“Because if you pull that crap again, you won’t meet another guard as generous as I am.”

He wondered if he heard hidden meaning behind her words. Did that mean that he had her support? Did that mean that she wanted him to do this?
He thought about it long and hard before replying. When he did, it was in the form of a curt nod. He understood. Sort of a, 'you scratch mine and I'll keep yours secret' kind of arrangement.
He was secretly in awe of how things can work out, and the peculiar way in which one can find allies - it seemed that, in her case, pretty displays of different personalities wasn't necessary. Of course, that wouldn't stop him from duping everyone else in the camp. He was still out for everything he could get.
Feeling safe in the newfound affinity they shared, however precarious it was, he crossed his arms and decided to press the subject.

"How best would I get close to the guards, learn their names and their... quirks?"

He'd driven people mad before. However temporary the effect was, he'd done it. He'd also learned that it was easier, much easier, when he knew the person's weaknesses. If a person was quick to anger, he'd play on that. Same went for all the other emotions. The closer it was to the surface naturally, the easier it was for him to amplify it and make it consume them. Only this time, it wouldn't be temporary.
He intended to have them squirming, screaming, tearing their own eyes out - and he'd watch, he'd force himself.
He'd make them suffer in ways from which no man or woman could hope to recover.

A request had been sent to Nika for a check up. The guard told the cat girl that Gwen wanted to look at Nika's scars one more time and make sure she was healed up. With a smiple nod Nika followed the guard to the infirmary. A place she had spent entirely too much time when everyone was first brought to the camp.

When she entered the infirmary Nika heared, smelled and saw a couple new arrivals. Though they didn't seem to be injured from what she could tell. Maybe they were here for something else then. Nika spotted gwen and walked over to the woman.

"You wanted to check me out, is that right?"

(OOC: Sorry, I'm not dismissing anyone, unless they want to go. Just trying to make sure I acknowledged everyone. lol Feel free to continue rping here or elsewhere if you wish. Sorry for the length.)

”I fully understand ma’am. Ma’am, if you need me I’ll be around.” Colyn's voice wavered a bit. Gwen looked at him, the slight smile twitching at the edge of her lips again.

"Take it easy kid, I'm not going to eat you. And I'll make sure they don't either." She indicated the rest of the less-than-helpful medical staff. "Trust me, you'll be glad you only have to work with the guards. Most of them are jerks." She grumbled that last statement more to herself than anything.

She was giving Alex's injuries a final appraisal, when the catgirl was escorted in, Nika.

"You wanted to check me out, is that right?"

Gwen nodded once. Nika had been one of the ones Natalie first healed, by accident it seemed. Gwen was very interested in both healing mutations, and wanted to check and see how effective they were.

"Can you wait over there?" She pointed to one of the curtained off beds. "I'll be right there."

The Infirmary had become suddenly busy. It looked like lunch was going to be fast food again; the faster she gulped, the better.

She stood and disappeared into her office for a minute, then reappeared with an oversized pair of beat up leather gloves and a packet of papers. She handed the gloves to Alex.

"I don't want you working on that fence for a week," she scolded, then added, "but no one ever takes my advice. So if the neanderthals in Gaurd Green stick you there anyway, make sure you wear these. Come back in two days, so I can check those stitches."

She turned to Colyn, and handed him the clipboard that held his paperwork, and added the extra sheets on top. "This is a list of camp residents, mutations, personal info, etcetera, etcetera. The ones highlighted are on our Frequent Visitor Program. Take a glance through it so you know who you're going to be dealing with. I'll be right back. Don't go too far. I want to test and see just how strong that healing of yours is." She turned, paused, and added, "And let me know if you can heal scars too."

Finally she returned to Nika, and pulled the curtain around.

"All right. Let's take a look and see how that gash is coming. Has it been giving you any trouble?"

Nika watched Gwen as she spat out instructions to various people. She was almost like a well oiled machine. Everything seemed to be very precise. Often times Gwen had astounded Nika when the cat girl was practically living in the infirmary. She had watched the woman handle many tasks one after another or sometimes several tasks all at once. When Gwen directed Nika to one of the bed Nika nodded and moved off to the bed and sat on the edge of it.

While she waited Nika continued to observe the people she could see and listen to. She watched Gwen talking to one of the new guys and handed him some papers. Nika could hear the woman talking about healing as well as healing scars. Is he a mutant too?

Nika smiled at Gwen as the woman finally made her way over to the bed and asked about the girl's injury. Nika shook her head when asked if it had been giving her any trouble.

"No, it doesn't hurt but then I haven't been allowed to exert myself fully either."

She lifted up her dull colored dress to allow Gwen the opportunity for a closer look.

"Gwen can I ask you something? Are those new guys mutants also?"

"Fuck!"

“Mind your tongue.” Jeminai said coolie giving him a fresh little tap of the button on her remote.

"How best would I get close to the guards, learn their names and their... quirks?"

Jeminai’s smile widened. Oh he was brighter then she first gave him credit for. Still a long ways to grow but better then some around here nonetheless. “You can start out at the grave yard.” Jeminai said. Acting as if she was by passing his question. She wanted him to see their handy work to it’s fullest extent first. See how he coped with waiting while what ever apparently drove him grew. If it would grow. “Then you can clean the guard barracks.”

With that, Jeminai gathered her clip bored, and exited the room. She would monitor her minion from her office on the security cameras.