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Jacks White Oak Mesmerism Lab Pm Track 240222
In the sterile, clinical atmosphere of Room One in the Experimentation Wing at Webster Clinic, a tension-filled lesson in Mesmerism takes an emotional turn, reaching a vivid climax. Tomas witnesses the class, intruding with a heavy presence that signifies his role as both observer and indirect participant. Jack, leading the class, discusses the ethical quandaries of mind control with Aristotle, who expresses discomfort with the exercise involving a restrained Meridith. Despite initially following Jack's lead, Aristotle's moral compass sways him away from continuing the experiment, deciding instead to release Meridith from her bindings, a decision that Jack supports, marking the end of the class but the start of a poignant reflection on the consequences of their actions.
The situation escalates when Meridith, freed from her physical restraints, confronts Tomas with fierce verbal aggression, hinting at deeper, unresolved tensions between them. Tomas's provocative remarks hint at a complex web of relationships and past actions, including a blood contract that threatens violence upon Jack for meddling in the minds of others. As the session unwinds, Aristotle opts to leave the scene, drained by the events, while Jack and Tomas consider continuing their discussion over a meal, suggesting an uneasy truce or perhaps a strategic alignment of interests. Meridith's swift departure, coupled with Tomas's insinuations and Jack's cautionary stance, leaves a lingering sense of unease and unfinished business, hinting at the dark undercurrents that flow beneath the surface of these interactions.
(Jack's [White Oak] Mesmerism - Lab (P.M. Track) )
[Wed Feb 21 2024]
In Room One of the Experimentation Wing at the Webster Clinic
In this room the stark, whitewashed walls exude a sterile, clinical atmosphere, punctuated by the low, persistent hum of sophisticated machinery that reverberates through the meticulously sanitized space. The polished, stainless-steel surfaces of the examination table and the gleaming array of intricate surgical instruments glisten under the cold, fluorescent light, casting sharp, calculated reflections that amplify the sense of detached precision and calculated experimentation characteristic of the Institute's enigmatic research initiatives.
It is about 50F(10C) degrees.
His arrival heralded by the heavy, almost stomping footsteps of boots against clinical flooring, Tomas slips in quietly and leans against the doorway, his mouth twisted downwards into something unpleasant. "Don't stop on my account," he grunts. "We'll talk when your lesson is over." He tilts his chin towards the machine, apparently inviting himself to sit in on the practical lesson.
"Indeed," Jack tells Tomas, and then he turns back to look at Aristotle. "Triggered instructions are perhaps the most valuable and difficult," he tells the man. "Besides..." There's a look at Meridith. "She could use some kindness, Mr. Wilson."
"...It'd be pretty kind to untie her." Aristotle says, looking to Jack as he counters. Too haggard to truly debate, though, he sets back to the console to begin typing something onto the console.
Something inscrutable as Jack looks at Tomas before looking back at Aristotle. "There is nothing truly kind about mind control."
It seems whatever Aristotle was in the process of typing goes derailed by Jack's comment. A few more taps see the command erased, and he shakes his head. "Okay. In that case, I'm not doing this anymore. I don't even like mind control." He says. He steps away from the console, starting to make his way back to the restrained Meridith.
Nodding, Jack tells Aristotle, "Very well. Help her off the table, Mr. Wilson -- class is dismissed." He smiles. "And now you both have something to write about for your homework, don't you?"
Meridith says "Yes...Father.. "
"I'm not goin' to fuckin' hurt you, Walker," Tomas grunts, sidling along the wall to get a better eye on that feed to someone' private thoughts. "Bailey put herself on the line on your behalf. You're good." Of course, now that Aristotle's untying her, there's not much point in his new vantage point, and he lets out a sigh. "C'mon, Ari. You gotta harden up at some point."
Meridith shifts to her feet, spent. She doesn't gaze at Tomas. She just makes for the door. She looks sympathetically toward Aristotle, but says nothing, moving to exit the classroom quickly.
"I'm not goin' to fuckin' hurt you, Walker," Tomas grunts, sidling along the wall to get a better eye on that feed to Meridith's private thoughts. "Bailey put herself on the line on your behalf. You're good." Of course, now that Aristotle's untying her, there's not much point in his new vantage point, and he lets out a sigh. "C'mon, Ari. You gotta harden up at some point."
Meridith says "....!? "
Aristotle starts to remove Meridith's restraints once Jack dismisses the class. "I suppose so, yeah." He says, glancing over to the man for a few moments. He helps Meridith rise to her feet shortly after.
Meridith throws herself at Tomas. "What the FUCK DID YOU JUST FUCKING SAY!?"
AristotleTomas's words are met with an amused, but tired little snort. "Sure. But it won't be tonight." He says, though his words are probably obscured once Meridith throws herself at Tomas. He's stepping to the side.
Jack chuckles, low, to Tomas. It's not the kindest tone of voice. "Deputy Bailey stands up for everyone, Mr. Inigo --" And then Meridith is throwing herself at Tomas. "Miss Walker!" his voice snaps. "Enough," he says.
Jack steps to hit a button on the wall; to summon orderlies, one might imagine, though they may take a few minutes to arrive.
Meridith is stopped, the threat of ever looming campus security and Jack's sharp command. "Fff...fuck. I am so fucking sick..." She storms off before she can be snagged! Hopefully.
"The caveat was," Tomas murmurs, low and quiet and with an affected sexuality almost certainly meant to further provoke someone, "If you swung first, all bets are off, and she still owes me." He watches her leave, puffing out an amused breath through his nose. "Right," he says. "Sorry about that, Ari. Father, do you want to get something to eat?" Off-campus, is the insinuation.
"The caveat was," Tomas murmurs, low and quiet and with an affected sexuality almost certainly meant to further provoke Meredith, "If you swung first, all bets are off, and she still owes me." He watches her leave, puffing out an amused breath through his nose. "Right," he says. "Sorry about that, Ari. Father, do you want to get something to eat?" Off-campus, is the insinuation.
There's a look at Tomas. "Do I need to be concerned about you trying to jump me when I no longer have the staff around, Mr. Inigo?" Jack asks. "I am merely human," he tells Tomas. "But if we're going to have a conversation... well. I'd much prefer it over food."
"Nothing to apologize for." Aristotle says to Tomas, waving away his apology with polite dismissal. "I'm gonna get home and get some rest... I'm... exhausted." He says, exhaling out. "I'll see you around, Tomas." He says to him. A nod is given to Jack. "Have a good evening, Father Jack."
"Have a good evening, Mr. Wilson. Thank you for being a good sport," Jack says warmly to Aristotle. Then he turns to look back at Tomas.
"I have a blood contract with Yasmin Ahmed that obliges me to break at least a few of your bones for getting inside her head," Tomas says, the blitheness in his voice an obvious affectation. "I don't know /what/ you did, but she was goin' to let her fuckin' cat get microwaved, and she dipped out of the chance to free her best friend from a pretty fearsome fuckin' demon, so I figure it must've been pretty fuckin' nasty." He tips his head at Aristotle, not quite verbally responding this time - there are more pressing issues at hand.
It's then that Aristotle begins to make his way out of the room, stepping carefully around Tomas and Jack on his way.
The situation escalates when Meridith, freed from her physical restraints, confronts Tomas with fierce verbal aggression, hinting at deeper, unresolved tensions between them. Tomas's provocative remarks hint at a complex web of relationships and past actions, including a blood contract that threatens violence upon Jack for meddling in the minds of others. As the session unwinds, Aristotle opts to leave the scene, drained by the events, while Jack and Tomas consider continuing their discussion over a meal, suggesting an uneasy truce or perhaps a strategic alignment of interests. Meridith's swift departure, coupled with Tomas's insinuations and Jack's cautionary stance, leaves a lingering sense of unease and unfinished business, hinting at the dark undercurrents that flow beneath the surface of these interactions.
(Jack's [White Oak] Mesmerism - Lab (P.M. Track) )
[Wed Feb 21 2024]
In Room One of the Experimentation Wing at the Webster Clinic
In this room the stark, whitewashed walls exude a sterile, clinical atmosphere, punctuated by the low, persistent hum of sophisticated machinery that reverberates through the meticulously sanitized space. The polished, stainless-steel surfaces of the examination table and the gleaming array of intricate surgical instruments glisten under the cold, fluorescent light, casting sharp, calculated reflections that amplify the sense of detached precision and calculated experimentation characteristic of the Institute's enigmatic research initiatives.
It is about 50F(10C) degrees.
His arrival heralded by the heavy, almost stomping footsteps of boots against clinical flooring, Tomas slips in quietly and leans against the doorway, his mouth twisted downwards into something unpleasant. "Don't stop on my account," he grunts. "We'll talk when your lesson is over." He tilts his chin towards the machine, apparently inviting himself to sit in on the practical lesson.
"Indeed," Jack tells Tomas, and then he turns back to look at Aristotle. "Triggered instructions are perhaps the most valuable and difficult," he tells the man. "Besides..." There's a look at Meridith. "She could use some kindness, Mr. Wilson."
"...It'd be pretty kind to untie her." Aristotle says, looking to Jack as he counters. Too haggard to truly debate, though, he sets back to the console to begin typing something onto the console.
Something inscrutable as Jack looks at Tomas before looking back at Aristotle. "There is nothing truly kind about mind control."
It seems whatever Aristotle was in the process of typing goes derailed by Jack's comment. A few more taps see the command erased, and he shakes his head. "Okay. In that case, I'm not doing this anymore. I don't even like mind control." He says. He steps away from the console, starting to make his way back to the restrained Meridith.
Nodding, Jack tells Aristotle, "Very well. Help her off the table, Mr. Wilson -- class is dismissed." He smiles. "And now you both have something to write about for your homework, don't you?"
Meridith says "Yes...Father.. "
"I'm not goin' to fuckin' hurt you, Walker," Tomas grunts, sidling along the wall to get a better eye on that feed to someone' private thoughts. "Bailey put herself on the line on your behalf. You're good." Of course, now that Aristotle's untying her, there's not much point in his new vantage point, and he lets out a sigh. "C'mon, Ari. You gotta harden up at some point."
Meridith shifts to her feet, spent. She doesn't gaze at Tomas. She just makes for the door. She looks sympathetically toward Aristotle, but says nothing, moving to exit the classroom quickly.
"I'm not goin' to fuckin' hurt you, Walker," Tomas grunts, sidling along the wall to get a better eye on that feed to Meridith's private thoughts. "Bailey put herself on the line on your behalf. You're good." Of course, now that Aristotle's untying her, there's not much point in his new vantage point, and he lets out a sigh. "C'mon, Ari. You gotta harden up at some point."
Meridith says "....!? "
Aristotle starts to remove Meridith's restraints once Jack dismisses the class. "I suppose so, yeah." He says, glancing over to the man for a few moments. He helps Meridith rise to her feet shortly after.
Meridith throws herself at Tomas. "What the FUCK DID YOU JUST FUCKING SAY!?"
AristotleTomas's words are met with an amused, but tired little snort. "Sure. But it won't be tonight." He says, though his words are probably obscured once Meridith throws herself at Tomas. He's stepping to the side.
Jack chuckles, low, to Tomas. It's not the kindest tone of voice. "Deputy Bailey stands up for everyone, Mr. Inigo --" And then Meridith is throwing herself at Tomas. "Miss Walker!" his voice snaps. "Enough," he says.
Jack steps to hit a button on the wall; to summon orderlies, one might imagine, though they may take a few minutes to arrive.
Meridith is stopped, the threat of ever looming campus security and Jack's sharp command. "Fff...fuck. I am so fucking sick..." She storms off before she can be snagged! Hopefully.
"The caveat was," Tomas murmurs, low and quiet and with an affected sexuality almost certainly meant to further provoke someone, "If you swung first, all bets are off, and she still owes me." He watches her leave, puffing out an amused breath through his nose. "Right," he says. "Sorry about that, Ari. Father, do you want to get something to eat?" Off-campus, is the insinuation.
"The caveat was," Tomas murmurs, low and quiet and with an affected sexuality almost certainly meant to further provoke Meredith, "If you swung first, all bets are off, and she still owes me." He watches her leave, puffing out an amused breath through his nose. "Right," he says. "Sorry about that, Ari. Father, do you want to get something to eat?" Off-campus, is the insinuation.
There's a look at Tomas. "Do I need to be concerned about you trying to jump me when I no longer have the staff around, Mr. Inigo?" Jack asks. "I am merely human," he tells Tomas. "But if we're going to have a conversation... well. I'd much prefer it over food."
"Nothing to apologize for." Aristotle says to Tomas, waving away his apology with polite dismissal. "I'm gonna get home and get some rest... I'm... exhausted." He says, exhaling out. "I'll see you around, Tomas." He says to him. A nod is given to Jack. "Have a good evening, Father Jack."
"Have a good evening, Mr. Wilson. Thank you for being a good sport," Jack says warmly to Aristotle. Then he turns to look back at Tomas.
"I have a blood contract with Yasmin Ahmed that obliges me to break at least a few of your bones for getting inside her head," Tomas says, the blitheness in his voice an obvious affectation. "I don't know /what/ you did, but she was goin' to let her fuckin' cat get microwaved, and she dipped out of the chance to free her best friend from a pretty fearsome fuckin' demon, so I figure it must've been pretty fuckin' nasty." He tips his head at Aristotle, not quite verbally responding this time - there are more pressing issues at hand.
It's then that Aristotle begins to make his way out of the room, stepping carefully around Tomas and Jack on his way.