After dinner, Neena headed for her 'night job', turning down beds in the Guards' Barracks. Apparently the government thought that keeping dangerous state criminals efficiently occupied included teaching them how to be hotel help. Minus the health benefits.

As Neena deposited her nightly laundry deliveries and turned down beds in various rooms, she again put her quick hands to use, and slipped a note between Doug's shirts.

You want to talk, find a way to make it happen.

She didn't sign it; he would figure it out himself. If not, then she would simply forget anything had happened. She was very good at forgetting on purpose.

She left his room and moved to the next.

By the time Doug gets to his -- that is, by the time Sonya gets to her bunk, she's about ready to simply collapse into it. Lots of guards do that, granted... especially those (like Doug) who don't have much of a life to get back to. (She shrugs off the urge to start a new campaign on the Battle for Moscow server for days now... Doug's strategy-game obsession is even worse than Teresa's physical fitness kick, and Sonya doesn't have time for either of them.)

But she doesn't, for seveal reasons.

First, it's out of character: Doug himself would have gone back to his apartment to play World of Conquest (Battle for Moscow!) or whatever.

Second, she has other plans. Granted, they aren't earth-shakingly critical plans... shopping for produce, mostly, and yet another likely-fruitless attempt to make food Calley will actually eat (he claims he eats it, but the way he keeps getting skinnier she suspects he actually feeds it to his cats or something).

Most importantly, the sooner she changes into civilian clothes and gets away from the Camp, the sooner she'll get away from James' incessant and increasingly rude (which is quite a feat, really, given where he'd started out) questioning about whether he'd successfully "boned the cat-#@#!." Which, thus far, she's managed to ignore, but with every word out of his mouth her urge to stuff him face-first in a toilet grows stronger. And that would be impractical.

So, when she hangs her uniform jacket near her shirts and dislodges a small piece of paper, she's somewhat distracted by all this and not quite quick enough to keep James from reading the tail-end of it. "You #@!$in' stud, you! You've got the @#!@es writing you love-notes! What's your #@!#in' secret, dude?"

Sonya sighs privately, suspecting that she's never going to quite feel clean after this, then gives James a lecherous grin as she surreptitiously destroys the note. "It's the sensitive new-age guy routine. Sooner or later they all fall for it, y'know? Here's the thing, though... $@#!@ Kelley's still on my ass, keeps spyin' on me through the @#!!@ cameras, so I ain't got noplace, you know, private.

It's not a terribly convincing performance -- the whole thing is out of character for Doug, let alone the rest of her -- but then James is not the most perceptive audience. It takes only another few distasteful minutes to get the location of one of his so-called "love-nests" out of him, along with detailed (if disgusting) instructions for how to intercept his "intended conquest".

I swear to God, if I have to talk to this man for another minute I will throw up. Fortunately, James seems to understand the urgency of his supposed arraignment, and lets him go with a bare minimum of additionally repellant advice which Sonya does her best not to hear.

Now, the only question is: who exactly is she meeting? The possibilities seem to be Michael, Neena, or Sara. The fact that the note was dropped in her laundry makes Michael the least likely - but then again, he seemed like enough of a ringleader that he could have managed that too.

Ultimately, she decides on Neena, not so much because of the evidence as because she's the one of the three who it seems most useful to meet with. It doesn't take long to get access to the woman's projected route, and Sonya plants herself "casually" along it and waits.

<"I swear from now on I'll tip the maid double, just for having taken the job at all.">

Neena promised herself that as she drug two giant loads of laundry out of the Barracks. Honestly, couldn't Management at least invested in laundry carts? And there were only fifty or so guards; where was all of this laundry coming from? She had to walk backwards and drag the bags, because they were so bulky. Were they bringing stuff from home? Somehow, it wouldn't surprise her in the slightest.

Because of her necessary mode of transportation, Neena couldn't see where she was going, and had to rely on her guard escort for guidance. Usually the guards took shifts on escort duty. As luck would have it, she managed to be stuck with the same escort as earlier that day; he derived more pleasure from watching her trip and stumble around, then from either shocking the daylights out of her for no reason, or trying to add another notch in his 'conquest belt'. While her nerves and nether regions enjoyed the respite, her already-bruised tailbone and scraped-raw knees and palms were not so happy.

<"Lovely.... Just lovely....">

Still, the stumble-bumble persona she had developed during her stay had served her well. And scrapes and bruises would eventually heal, if not prettily, and were much preferable to other 'injuries'. So she contented herself to grumble under her breath, and preoccupy her mind with planning more sabotage. By morning, either the privys or Infirmary would be very busy, depending on how shy the guards were about unknown rashes in embarrassing places.....

"Heya Doug. Gettin' ready to hit the road already? I'm jealous, man. They stuck me with babysitting duty. She's slower than tar."

<"Yeah, I'd like to show you tar. Hot tar, with some cayenne powder mixed in....">

Her back was to them, so they couldn't see her smile momentarily. She continued to haul her loads, trying to stay upright along the way.

> "I'm jealous, man. They stuck me with babysitting duty. She's slower than tar."

Sonya/Doug sighs in the privacy of their own mind, knowing perfectly well what she's about to do and more than a little repulsed by it.

Putting on the leer is easier this time, more convincing; this is not entirely a good thing, but it makes the current masquerade easier. "Heh, heh, heh... that depends on who's racin' her engine, dude. Speakin' of which, how 'bout we trade shifts? I'll take over sittin' the babe..." she pauses for a second, wondering if the lecherous eyebrow-wiggling is sufficiently blatant, and decides to add an innuendo-laden "if you know what I mean?" just to be safe, before continuing "an' you take my mornin' cafeteria patrol Friday. That work for you?"

The other guard looks Doug over in surprise. "For real? Word 'round Camps was you don't touch mutie 'tang... ol' Jimmy's been goin' around tellin' folks you're queer!"

Sonya really does not have the patience for this, and lets it show. "Y'ask me, Jimmy spends way too much time thinkin' 'bout who's queer, y'know what I mean? Anyway, you gonna #!@#$ trade your $!@#! shift or not? I ain't sticking around here tonight just to look at your @#!$!@# ugly face, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, yeah, OK... that's cool. Cafeteria patrol's a pretty cushy shift." Sonya nods and turns to Neena. "You know what's good for you, you come with me and don't make no trouble, hear me?" His voice is harsh and threatening, but as soon as his face is turned away from the other guard he gives her a conspiratorial wink before heading further down the hall, towards the unobserved empty janitor's closet James had recommended.

"Heh, heh, heh... that depends on who's racin' her engine, dude. Speakin' of which, how 'bout we trade shifts? I'll take over sittin' the babe... if you know what I mean?"

Behind her sunglasses Neena rolled her eyes.

"For real? Word 'round Camps was you don't touch mutie 'tang... ol' Jimmy's been goin' around tellin' folks you're queer!"

She stifled a snicker. A few people in this crowd of earth scum act the slightest bit decent, and get labeled 'queer'. No wonder the world is upside down....

"Y'ask me, Jimmy spends way too much time thinkin' 'bout who's queer, y'know what I mean? Anyway, you gonna #!@#$ trade your $!@#! shift or not? I ain't sticking around here tonight just to look at your @#!$!@# ugly face, you know what I mean?"

At that point Neena released her burdens and turned around to face both guards, arms crossed, weight on one foot.

"Yeah, yeah, OK... that's cool. Cafeteria patrol's a pretty cushy shift." He started to walk past Doug, then paused to look at Neena.

"You know what's good for you, you come with me and don't make no trouble, hear me?"

Her reply to Doug's obvious threat? And the covert wink that went with it? One eyebrow raised and she tilted her head forward slightly, so he could see one colorless eye staring back at him over the sunglasses. Her now relieved escort snickered, and turned and walked away, throwing a last remark over his shoulder.

"Good luck dude. You're gonna need it...."

Neena tilted her head back again, hiding her eyes once more. Her facial expression was neutral, but her stance dared Doug to make a move.

(OOC: Permission given to godmod moving Neena if needed.

Sonya/Doug is aware of Neena's digging in her heels as she makes her way down the hall, and she privately cheers the woman on. Good for you, sister! It's nice to know that at least one inmate hasn't had her spirit broken by the treatment here.

On the other hand, it leaves her somewhat uncertain as to how to proceed. She can't drop character while the departing guard, and who knows how many others, are still in earshot... but she doesn't really have the stomach for playing the scene out more graphically, Neena seeming quite scarred enough already. Not to mention reminding Sonya of her Aunt Sofie, who she vaguely suspects will appear out of nowhere to yell at her if she's unnecessarily rude to an older black woman.

On yet a third hand, Neena had struck her as the sort of woman whose own curiosity and impulsiveness would make her do things that she would stubbornly resist anyone pushing her into doing... so maybe there's a simpler way. When she gets to the hallway intersection she's looking for, she looks over her shoulder at Neena and grins cheerfully, then turns the corner without another word and waits.

(( OOC: Nah, no gmodding required... I'm curious what Neena will do. ))

(OOC: lol That works Sorry, I'm a bit tired, so let me know if I misunderstood what Doug is doing.)

Curious as she was concerning his unusual behavior earlier that day, Neena wasn't curious enough to lower her guard completely. She was not, and would not be treated, as someone else's 'plaything'. She kept up her defiant pose as Doug approached her....

.... and passed right by. Without attempting to grope or fondle or kiss her. For that matter he didn't try to touch her at all, or even talk to her. He kept right on walking by. At the end of the hallway, he turned and grinned at her, then passed out of sight.

<".... .... Well, that wasn't what I expected.... ....">

Her mind shifted into overdrive trying to figure out how to react.

Doug was not acting like himself. That much was crystal clear to Neena now. He had been one of the few guards that seemed content to be indifferent to everyone. Now he was attempting, seemingly, to gain the Camp inmates' trust. Why? Curiosity surged like tidal wave within her mind.

Experience stared down at the tidal wave, like a giant cliff overlooking the ocean. Camp Management could easily have found out some of their supplies had gone missing, or that some of the 'ailments' going around were only affecting guards, and usually the same ones. Especially the ones known, behind the scenes, to have made life nearly unbearable for some of the prisoners. It would only be common sense to try and plant a spy among the 'rabble'. Neena didn't relish the thought of being used, or of getting the others into, possibly deadly, trouble.

But, ooooohh.... She was so curious now.....

She glanced back up the hallway, toward the direction she should be headed, with the laundry. Or even without; considering she was seemingly left without an escort, she could very easily slack of her work for the night. Consequences she could deal with tomorrow.

Then she looked in the direction Doug had taken. Consequences of that direction would probably have to be dealt with now.

Now, or later? Experience, or curiosity? Now, or.....

<"Ah, forget it, I'm no cat. Score one for the tidal wave...">

With that she turned and followed the direction Doug had taken, leaving the laundry in the halls, and imagination to whoever was spying on the security cameras.

<"Mmmm.... rumors will be flying tomorrow....">

(( OOC: You're fine. The picture in your head was different than mine, but I like yours better, so I'm going with it.))

When she hears Neena's footsteps -- surprisingly quiet ones, now that she pays attention -- moving towards her, Sonya/Doug cheers quietly in her own mind, but doesn't let anything show on her face until the two of them are out of camera view in an empty janitor's closet. It's not quite large enough for two people to face each other comfortably, but by leaning against the left-hand wall Sonya is able to give Neena at least a little space.

"So, if anyone opens that door," she mutters just loud enough to be heard, "pretend I'm raping you. Which I guess means you can kick me in the balls or something if you want, but if it's a guard they'll probably just zap your cuffs and then try to join in the supposed fun, so it's probably best if you pretend I've got the upper hand... they'll probably just leave us alone then." She frowns thoughtfully for a moment, then sighs and undoes her belt. "I'm hoping that'll be enough for appearance's sake."

"Anyway. Like I said in the note, I brought stuff I thought you could probably use, but if you let me know what you need I'll do what I can. No, I can't bust you out of here or turn off the cuffs or anything actually useful like that... I would if I could, but I can't. I can tell you that the Resistance is working on getting all of you out of here, but I don't know details... and I guess I wouldn't tell you about them if I did. Also, your buddy Michael made it pretty clear he didn't want me talking to anyone but him, which I can appreciate, but really doesn't work -- I've got no idea what his real agenda is, he might be a collaborator for all I know. Same goes for you, so don't expect to be my only contact." She stops for a moment, then adds "Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, though. You don't trust me. I don't blame you. Any idea how we can get past that?"

A tiny, cramped closet. And she had just walked into it. Behind a guard who, in all outward appearances, meant her no good. And she had done that of her own volition.

<"Lovely. Just lovely. Tomorrow's gossip chain is going to be buzzing in overdrive...."> Maybe she was a cat after all....

"So, if anyone opens that door, pretend I'm raping you. Which I guess means you can kick me in the balls or something if you want, but if it's a guard they'll probably just zap your cuffs and then try to join in the supposed fun, so it's probably best if you pretend I've got the upper hand... they'll probably just leave us alone then." She didn't say anything as Doug undid his belt, nor did she move. "I'm hoping that'll be enough for appearance's sake."

Appearances? Neena snorted. "Honey, at this point, I doubt appearances matter." No doubt the imaginations of anyone watching were already fired up well beyond appearances. Still, she kept her arms relaxed at her sides, just in case.

"Anyway," he began, "Like I said in the note, I brought stuff I thought you could probably use, but if you let me know what you need I'll do what I can. No, I can't bust you out of here or turn off the cuffs or anything actually useful like that..."

Neena let him talk. As long as that was all he did, she made no move to stop him. Especially since what he was saying piqued her already-rampant curiosity even further. So, there was a resistance building up beyond the walls. That was an interesting tidbit, and not one she was sure she should share just yet. While it might give some hope, it also might embitter others. After all, two months had passed without any sign of help. Not a good spirit lift to those who were already near breaking.

"Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, though. You don't trust me. I don't blame you. Any idea how we can get past that?"

And the trademark eyebrow went up behind the dark glasses. "Trust? That's a pretty tall order, m'friend. But for starters, where's Doug?"

> "Honey, at this point, I doubt appearances matter."

Sonya shakes her head. "At this point, appearances matter a whole lot. Last thing we want is to make anybody suspicious."

> "Trust? That's a pretty tall order, m'friend."

She shakes her head again. "Not asking you to trust me... that doesn't seem too likely. I'm asking if you have any idea how we can get past your distrust enough to let me help. Doesn't do anybody any good for me to be passing you goods or info if you're gonna throw 'em out as soon as I do; if we can't work out some way past that I can't do what I'm s'pozed to."

> "But for starters, where's Doug?"

"Heh. I thought you might be wondering about that." Which, in fact, she had... one of her major concerns in starting this operation had been the possibility of giving away her real abilities to strangers. But her encounter with Naveed had inspired her cover story. "I am Doug, actually. Yeah, I know, not acting like it. Don't really know why, myself -- all I know's some crazy guy with glowin' red eyes woke me up in the middle of the night t'tell me I had to get in touch with this mutie resistance and start helping you folks out where I could, and not to tell anyone about it except for the inmates. And I started doing it. Like I said, don't ask me why."

The irony is, while the details are made up, the basic story isn't far from wrong... this is Doug's body she's wearing, and his mind is in here somewhere too, cooperating with her because, well, she's in charge. Which doesn't change the fact that she's been doing things Doug would never have done on his own.

"Guess it doesn't much matter, though. You wanna think of me as some other guy in the world's best disguise, I guess that's OK too. God knows I'm doing stuff I'd never in a million years thought I'd do... I don't hardly recognize myself."

"Not asking you to trust me... that doesn't seem too likely. I'm asking if you have any idea how we can get past your distrust enough to let me help. Doesn't do anybody any good for me to be passing you goods or info if you're gonna throw 'em out as soon as I do; if we can't work out some way past that I can't do what I'm s'pozed to."

And that is?" she prompted

"Heh. I thought you might be wondering about that. I am Doug, actually. Yeah, I know, not acting like it. Don't really know why, myself -- all I know's some crazy guy with glowin' red eyes woke me up in the middle of the night t'tell me I had to get in touch with this mutie resistance and start helping you folks out where I could, and not to tell anyone about it except for the inmates. And I started doing it. Like I said, don't ask me why."

"Glowing eyes, eh? So why'd he pick you?" She wasn't sure she bought the story, even if it was plausible.

"Guess it doesn't much matter, though. You wanna think of me as some other guy in the world's best disguise, I guess that's OK too. God knows I'm doing stuff I'd never in a million years thought I'd do... I don't hardly recognize myself."

"Stress has a funny way of doing that. Or so I've been told."

Neena removed her glasses, squinting a bit under the dim lightbulb that lit the tiny space. She examined the man before her very carefully, a possibly unnerving experience due to her lack of eye color. She leaned forward, moving into his personal space, and stared him in the eyes for several long moments, unblinking.

> "if we can't work out some way past that I can't do what I'm s'pozed to."
> "And that is?"

Sonya/Doug shrugs. "Like I said - help you guys out where I can. I brought the most useful stuff I could think of, but truth is I don't know what you need. Or, if you don't need anything, then y'could tell me so and maybe this damned compulsion that lunatic put me under will go away."

> "Glowing eyes, eh? So why'd he pick you?"

"How the Hell should I know? If I had to guess, I'd say 'cuz I live alone, nobody else to notice I'm acting weird at home. But maybe I was just the first guard he ran into. Or maybe he didn't like my looks. I dunno... he's one of your people, I'd suggest you ask him."

> "I don't hardly recognize myself."
> "Stress has a funny way of doing that. Or so I've been told."

She's about to make some throwaway comment about having her life shanghaied by some mutant mentalist has a way of doing that, too, when Neena gets up in his face, staring at him with her weird eyes. She stares back for a few moments, resisting the urge to bap Neena on the nose, before adding "You do this with everybody? Or am I special?"

"Like I said - help you guys out where I can. I brought the most useful stuff I could think of, but truth is I don't know what you need. Or, if you don't need anything, then y'could tell me so and maybe this damned compulsion that lunatic put me under will go away."

<"Compulsion? Hmmm....">

"He's one of your people, I'd suggest you ask him."

There was a few moments of silence as Neena continued her scrutiny. During that time Doug made no other move, though the confusion in his eyes was obvious. Finally he asked,

"You do this with everybody? Or am I special?"

"Just checking your windows for cracks," she remarked, referring to an old saying her grandfather often told her. She backed away, out of his space, and leaned against the wall. She crossed her arms, standing very casually this time, giving off a general air of unconcern.

"As for Mr. Red Eyes, I don't have 'people', so I don't know what you mean by that. As for what's needed, I don't trust you far enough to ask for food or medicine, unless I test it first." Something she planned to do later; she was unaware that Sara had already beaten her to it.

"What would be helpful.... is information."

It was a rather broad subject, but a, possibly, very fruitful one. Then she added,

"And clarification on your 'compulsion' would be welcome as well. Particularly what will happen when that 'compulsion' wears off."

> "As for what's needed, I don't trust you far enough to ask for food or medicine,
> unless I test it first. What would be helpful.... is information. And clarification
> on your 'compulsion' would be welcome as well. Particularly what will happen
> when that 'compulsion' wears off."

"Wish I knew, sweetheart. I'd blow it off and go back to my ordinary life if I had a choice."

That comes out a lot more sincerely than Sonya had quite intended, which in turn brings her abruptly face-to-face with the realization, again, that her cover story isn't entirely a lie. There's an odd sense in which Doug is really "in there", forced to go along with Sonya's agenda but not entirely pleased with it, and she's not at all sure what to make of the fact.

She's never thought of herself as the sort to enslave innocent bystanders to achieve her goals, but... well... it's not really slavery, is it? I mean, the real Doug is still out there, this is just a copy. She tries hard not to think about what might be happening to the real Doug while she takes his place, but she can't help but remember that the "real Sonya" is out there too.

That doesn't make me any less real, does it? Disquietingly, she's not sure whether she means herself, or Doug. Or, come to think of it, Teresa. In fact, she's increasingly unsure of what she means by "herself."

All of which is way too much existential crisis for a clandestine secret-agent meeting that's already not going as well as she'd hoped, and she realizes she's already spent far too much time in silent contemplation of it.

"Nope... can't do it." There...let Neena think that was all Doug trying to break free of compulsion. Hell, Sonya's not at all sure it wasn't.

"Anyway... you want more information, or clarification, or whatever, just ask away. I'm here to help... whether I like it or not."

"Wish I knew, sweetheart. I'd blow it off and go back to my ordinary life if I had a choice."

Neena waited patiently as Doug seemed to be considering something.

"Nope... can't do it."

She raised an eyebrow. "Can't?" she repeated. "Interesting....."

"Anyway... you want more information, or clarification, or whatever, just ask away. I'm here to help... whether I like it or not."

A conspiratal smile overtook her mouth for a split second, before being wiped into an attempt at a straight face.

"Okay then, one more clarification, before the requests. 'Wether I like it or not.' Does that mean you have to find out out anything I want to know? Even if it gets you into trouble? Dependant on Mr. Red Eyes, of course."

If the answer was yes, Doug may not have realized what he'd just gotten himself into.

(OOC: Sorry, Writer's Block. )