Scale Of Guilt


abby_icon.gif katie_icon.gif

Scene Title Scale Of Guilt
Synopsis Abigail is questioned about her strange Registration history.
Date September 18, 2010

NYPD Headquarters: Interrogation Room

Katie Sebastian has already introduced herself, asked Abby if she'd like a glass of water, and set one down on the table anyway. The room is featureless, save for the standard mirror towards the young woman's right, the camera in the corner, and of course, the DoEA agent scanning the file she has in front of her. Her suit is clean and tailored, her fingernails free of paint and face lightly touched with makeup. Curtains of blonde hair hang past her shoulders, cornspun light and silk fine.

"Okay Abigail," she says, after scanning some words, allowing a smile across at the table. Good cop. Or maybe just kind, seeing as the woman under arrest just got plucked from hospital. "Why don't you walk through with me your Registration history? Starting from when you were Registered as a Tier 0…" Her fingertip runs across printed words. "Healer?"

"Contact Healing, touch healing. Faith Healer. Whatever it was that someone wanted to call it. I called it faith healing."

She's no stranger to this room, be it federal or more NYPD variety. No so intimidated - but still intimidated - as to refuse the glass of water when it's offered. "I registered my gift, in December 2008" Abigail's elbows and forearms rest on teh table, keeps her eyes focused between the file and Agent Sebastian. Somewhere, elsewhere, Cat is waiting for if Abby actually needs a lawyer. "I applied to be un-registered in September of last year. It'll be one year in two days"

There's no note-taking — likely not needed, questions recorded as this questioning transpires within the NYPD HQ. Sebastian has her arms folded, pale hand resting on the crook of an elbow, and though her gaze is even, it's not necessarily threatening. That's probably not needed either. "Agent Matt Parkman oversaw that process," she confirms, with a nod. "We obtained his confirmation while you were hospitalised. And you were formally Registered as a Non-Evolved, on the 30th of August, is that correct?

"Can you explain that situation to me?"

She and cat had spent hours discussing this, roleplaying it out over Piccoli's and calamine lotion. Robert had said lay dumb, don't talk about the formula. The corners of Abigail's lips are turned down and she's looking at the file folder. "Two months ago, I got really hot. Sweat pouring off me. It just beaded on my skin and slid down. Like, you've been jogging for an hour and the front of your shirt is soaked. I was out on Staten Island, on my way to visit the Lighthouse Orphanage. I go out and help with the kids now and then. One minute I'm sweating like crazy, the next my clothes are smoldering and then… I'm fire. Not on fire, but actual fire."

"I was very afraid. Confused. Really confused. I mean, here I am, I'm a healer, been so since I was twelve, people kidnapped me for that very gift, and then, it's gone, someone comes along and just takes it. It never comes back, I test, It comes up blue. I get tested again and again and again, and I'm interrogated, and questioned and more blood taken. And eventually a few months later, I'm told congratulations, here you go, you're no longer registered." Abigail's shoulders lift a fraction and she looks up at Katie. "I sincerely thought, that this was it, I was just going to go through life and never have gods gift again. ANd then… two months ago" Abigail lifts her hands, simulating something going up in flames.

"I'm like, the guy from the fantastic four, I think it's the fantastic four. Only, when I come out of it? I'm not so lucky as to still be wearing a spandex jumpsuit, I'm naked as the day the good lord made me." Another little shrug of her shoulders, hands going to around the cup of water. "How do I explain that? I'm imagining going through the process again, the registering, the thousands of needles that I really hate, and being questioned and interrogated and just… " Abby shakes her head. "So I went through the list of detectives and cops that I knew that I could ask. That… might help someone who helped out the the NYPD so many times and… he agreed and here I am."

Abigail looks down to the file again. "Would you want an EMT partner who can turn into a person of fire Agent Sebastien if she didn't keep calm?"

There's a rigidity to Sebastian's posture that wasn't there before, as if leaning back a few inches would be able to protect her from the young woman opposite her should she burst into flames. The agent's coral painted lips twitch a little in an uneasily sympathetic smile, turning her catlike stare down on the reports in front of her. "So you have a pyro mimicry ability," she confirms. "That would probably mark you further up the tier system than contact healing too, I imagine."

She flicks some pages over as indication that she's not interested, necessarily, in hearing Abby's response to that assessment. "So you felt that Detective Christopher Nash would be that individual to help you secure your non-Evolved status? Can you elaborate a little why that might be?"

"Oh i"m pretty sure that puts me right up there on the whole picture, address, and ability published on the website." She notices the woman ease back, a small sighs escaping at the reaction. "I'm not about to ignite here Agent Sebastien. I've been doing a lot of practicing, to get to the point where I'm at right now with control. But Detective Nash."

She's trying not to throw him under the bus too much. Lest they dig really deep for others that he's falsified for. "Because he was partners with a former detective that I knew closely, and had met him on many occasions. because… if I got caught too, then… on a scale of one to ten the guilt that I'd feel because I know that he's in trouble, would only be about a five, instead of a ten"

The scale of guilt does get a smile from Sebastian, pale eyebrows lifting in a gesture of concession. "Okay," she says, with such cool neutrality that it's near impossible to see whether she believes Abby or not. In truth, it's not her job to believe anyone — she works within the same office as one Vincent Lazzaro, a collector of intelligence. She closes the file in front of her. "So you are admitting to wilfully subverting the Registration system, is that correct? And Detective Nash was aware of your purposes and intentions?"

Abigail nods her head to the agent. "I have and I am… sorry that I did such. I shouldn't have but I did. I let my fears get the better of me instead of doing like I was told a year ago, that if anything changed I should come forward. Detective Nash to the best of my knowledge, was aware of my intentions when I approached him to register Ma'am" She winces at saying it, knowing full well what troubles going to come down on him. "Sorry for the extra work that this all is creating for the lot of you that's better served elsewhere"

"Your cooperation will be noted," Sebastian states, coolly but not insincerely, either, her pale nails making four points where her hand splays against the cover of her folders. "I think you're going to be with us a little longer, ma'am, but you will have the opportunity to make a call very soon. I'm going to escort you back to your holding cell, unless there's anything else you'd like to tell me?"

"If I wasn't here, a little bit longer Agent Sebastian, I'd have to wonder. I'll be fine, not the first time I've been in the hospitality of the united States government. Thank you very much for your questions, for not yelling. For the water as well, I appreciate ma'am" They're just doing their job, that's all, and all she can do it hope that much like Robert said, she'd be going home.

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