I'm Still Not Sure What I Stand For (Meredith/Open)

[Felicia Blackwood]

An envelope bearing the Ashford seal was hand-delivered was placed on the desk in front of her. Her ruby eyes drifted up to meet the stranger’s unfamiliar eyes, but the young man turned away before she could question him further. She let out a disgruntled huff and carefully opened the letter, trying not to get a papercut. Her eyes widened as she read it, and without her conscious effort, her office door slammed shut. The loud ‘bang’ startled her, but, the distraction was only temporary. She read the piece of paper, which was cream in color save for the black and red logo at the top, and placed it down on her desk afterward. She rested her elbows on the top of the desk and placed her hands over her mouth. It was not easy to stun the commander speechless, but, somehow, the officials had managed to do it. She was almost sure these orders could not have come from anyone but them. Meredith would never order such a thing unless it was absolutely necessary. She tried to put it out of her mind, but the statement of the order haunted her the entire night.

Felicia arrived early to her specified location. Dark circles were clear under her eyes, but she kept her facial expression neutral. She watched the rest of the students being led into the area, a slight amount of guilt in her chest. The silver-haired young woman was free to roam around the area as she pleased, and yet, her fellow students were rounded up in a large cell. She could see the need for it; there were certainly going to be rebellious ones amongst the group. She did not see that justifying the need for locking up the entire student population besides the participants, but she was not there to question orders, she was there to follow them, for better or for worse. She thought back to the paper she had read the day before and clenched her jaw ever-so slightly. She needed to keep herself in control; if the other students sensed her hesitation, they would certainly take advantage of it. She hoped that the other prefects that were supposed to help her would come soon. She was not sure how much more indecision she could take. She was starting to feel restless on her feet and was tempted to start pacing the floor, but she decided to wait until she saw some more prefects file in before attempting to move anywhere.

Her ruby eyes flicked across the span of the caged-in area around the students, watching them for a few moments. She thought she heard a few grumblings about being locked up, and some other ones about what a conspiracy the whole situation was. As much as she wanted to believe the government’s intentions were good, she had a few doubts. It just sounded too good to be true, and if she had learned anything, it was that, if something sounded too good to be true, then it probably was. She let out a sigh and nodded politely to the prefect who shifted into her position. She started to pace a little bit, though she tried to make it look like she was really just surveying and listening. In all honesty, she was wrapped up in her thoughts.

How could she follow the orders that she was given? She had a personal code of ethics that she had to adhere to, and that meant not attacking students unless absolutely necessary. The orders she had been given had stated that ‘those patrolling the area must use force to subdue any rebellious students for the safety of all’. She highly doubted violence would cause less of a problem; in fact, she was convinced it would just make any kind of disturbance worse. Of course, the heads of the program (and the school as well) did not know a blessed thing about what was happening. If they had, they certainly would not have given the circulating prefects the order they had. Without even realizing it, she had raised her fist to her mouth and started biting her thumb, scraping the hard surface of her teeth across her fair skin. She was so deep into her mental debate, she barely felt her shoulder collide with someone else’s. Her eyelashes fluttered when her brain registered the fact that she had bumped into none other than Meredith Monroe, the head prefect. She squared her shoulders and saluted her slightly, forgetting for a moment that she was not in a military institution. Old habits die hard, she thought to herself, lowering her hand and letting it fall to her side. “My apologies, Miss Monroe. I’m usually more careful,” the young prefect managed, linking her fingers together behind her back to hide her slightly reddened thumb. A tired smile crossed her face as she slipped into pleasantries, “How are you this morning?” She was trying to give no inkling of her internal turmoil. It was no one’s problem but her own, after all.

[Meredith]

The bedroom of Meredith Monroe was quiet and perfectly tranquil as she sat, calm and expressionless, in front of her vanity mirror. Classical piano music played faintly in the background from Meredith's iPod speakers as she meticulously brushed her light brown hair. She furrowed her eyebrows slightly in mild annoyance as her hairbrush hit a knot before setting the brush down and gently freeing the knot with her fingers. With just a few more brushstrokes, her long mane was finally clean and tangle-free, and she pulled it into a neat fishtail braid, just like her twin sister taught her so many years ago.

"No! We're not doing this!"

Meredith closed her eyes, rubbed her temples with her fingertips, and gently shook the unpleasant memory from her mind.

She checked her watch, which told her that she had about forty minutes to make her way to the holding area. Punctual as always, the young and fragile-bodied woman lifted herself out of her chair. She pulled a thin black cardigan over her small frame, slipped into a pair of flats, and pinned her alpha commander badge onto her top. Deciding that she was ready to face the day, she took a breath, pushed the button on her iPod to stop the music, and sauntered out the door, closing it gently behind her. She was on her way.

"We're not locking innocent children in cages like animals!"

Meredith stopped suddenly in the hallway, folding her hands in front of her and blinking a few times, taking a few calm, even breaths. To any onlookers, it might have simply looked like she was remembering something, like perhaps she had forgotten something in her dorm and was considering going back for it. In a moment, she continued onward, leaving anyone who might have been watching her to shrug and go about their days. You have to lose some battles to win the war, she reminded herself as she opened the door that led to the basement. From that moment on, any lingering anxiety on her face seemed to pass, and she walked with her back straight and her head held high down the steps to join the few prefects who had already arrived.

A young boy entered the basement tentatively and scanned his surroundings with wariness in his eyes. Though she knew that Ashford Academy did not accept students any earlier than their seventh grade year, wide eyes and fear for one's life tended to create a youthful glow. The boy didn't look a day over ten years old. He nervously wandered into the holding area, unsure of how to proceed. 

"Hi," Mer greeted softly, taking a few steps toward him. She extended a hand towards the boy and gestured for him to take it by wiggling her fingers. He nervously walked toward her and obliged, and she warmly wrapped her fingers around his smaller hand. Giving him her most reassuring smile (as reassuring as a smile in a basement-turned-prison could be), the prefect leader calmly walked the boy over to a cell in a far corner, lightly stroking his hand with her thumb as they walked. She could tell it wasn't helping. When they reached the first unoccupied cell, she turned to him.

"I'm sorry about this. I know it's not exactly comfortable, but I promise it's just for your safety, and everything's going to be okay. Okay?" The boy still looked unsure, and Meredith sighed, her eyes looking like those of a concerned mother. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you in here. You have my word." The child was still clearly not convinced, but he sulked into his cell anyway and allowed Meredith to lock the door. Meredith smiled and suppressed a sigh, knowing that any more worry on her face or in her body language would not help anyone. The less concerned she looked, the more easily she could sell the "Nothing's wrong with this picture" act. Absentmindedly fingering the tail of her braid, Meredith turned and began walking back towards the door to see if anyone new was coming in, only to bump into one of her prefects.

"Oh," she said softly in surprise, but before she had a chance to say her sorries, Felicia was already apologizing. My apologies, Miss Monroe. I'm usually more careful. Meredith smiled at the girl's square shoulders and half-salute. She'd had many years to grow used to everyone in the school making a big deal out of showing her respect, and she no longer found it absolutely bizarre, but it would never completely lose its novelty. After all, she had grown up as the awkward, mousy Monroe twin with too much of an affinity for gummy bears.

"Oh, it's quite all right, Felicia, it was my bad. Sorry," Meredith replied with a smile, resting her hand on the girl's elbow for a quick moment. How are you this morning?

"I'm... fine." Meredith folded her hands in front of her and looked around, biting her lip for just a second to keep herself from frowning. "The arrangements for this event certainly aren't ideal, but the school has insisted on it. To keep everyone safe." She emphasized that last part, not because she desperately wanted Felicia to believe it but because she needed to believe it herself.

[Felicia Blackwood]

Felicia could not remember the last time she had been so unsure of anything. Even when she had been discovered and more or less coerced to be entered into prefect training, she had never thought about anything but the path she was following. At that moment, though, she was starting to falter. It was one thing to put someone who was a teenager in a cage; yes, they would probably be frustrated and angry and want to get out. However, she could see that there were also children, or, at least, students who looked like children, locked in cells. They already looked so frail and thin, and some were even curled up in the corner of their cells, whimpering like kicked puppies. A pang of sympathy struck her and she dug her front teeth deeper into her thumb, causing some of the skin of her thumb to peel off slightly. Of course, when she collided shoulders with her superior, she was quick to disguise it by saluting, then hiding her hands. In all honesty, she had no idea where she had picked up the habit of biting her thumb; she had just somehow acquired it at Ashford, because she certainly had not done such a thing when she was at home. She idly wondered what her friend, Caleb, would think of the new habit, but she already knew the answer, deep down. I know he wouldn’t be too happy, she thought to herself, shaking her head a little bit to push the thoughts away. She needed to focus on her current interaction, and not one that she was thinking of in her head, no matter how close the two of them had been.

Felicia shook her head and put one of her hands up, albeit around the area of her waist and not Meredith’s face. She had not run into the prefect commander many times, but, from what she did know from rumors, she was a very humble and sweet person. “There’s no need to apologize, Miss Monroe,” she replied, scratching the back of her head with her left hand. “I was just lost in thought, I guess,” she added, noting the hand resting on her right elbow. The pale skin of Meredith’s hand and the stark white of the blazer that Felicia wore were both a stark contrast and yet complimented one another in a strange way. In a flash, the touch was gone, though, and the younger prefect relaxed slightly. She was not really used to being touched by others, unless it was a handshake. She had always tried to keep people at a distance, and, for the most part, she succeeded at the school, though she was starting to wonder what drawbacks being so isolated could cause. She put the thoughts away for later, though, because the other young woman was in the process of answering her question. In all honesty, it sounded like the prefect commander was trying to convince herself that the current setup of the basement was the best one to protect students, rather than her subordinate.

The silvery-haired prefect bit her tongue slightly when the other mentioned keeping everyone safe. If Felicia had to be completely honest and open, she thought the best way to keep the students safe was to not have the damn tournament at all. She hated the whole idea of it, but she was certainly not going to say anything to any of the students, let alone the alpha prefect. She was just going to keep her fingers crossed that no students tried to be stupid and escape. Hopefully, the only people who would come out ‘dinged up’ were those who lost their matches. “I suppose it keeps everyone safe if they’re separated,” she muttered, her ruby eyes scanning the cells of both scared and irritated-looking students. She glanced over at the commander before watching a student rattle the bars of the cell she was in. “But they can’t always be safe, especially when they leave this place,” she muttered, wandering over to the girl’s cell and attempting to converse with her. It did not go over well at all, so she wandered back to her former post with an irritated scowl crossing her features. She took a deep breath and re-composed herself. There was a lot more she wanted to say to Meredith, but she knew she could not speak what she was truly thinking and feeling. If she did, there was no guarantee as to what would happen to the people she cared about. She pushed the thoughts away and instead noticed a little boy at the end of the block, who had his eyes turned to the alpha prefect next to her. She chuckled softly and looked at the floor for a moment before glancing back at her superior. “He seems to like you,” she said, nodding toward the boy, “You must have very good social graces if children are drawn to you.” She knew for a fact that most of the younger students were not fond of her loud voice and stern face, so it was nice to see that they could bond with someone, at least.

[Meredith]

“There's no need to apologize. I was just lost in thought, I guess. How are you this morning?”

Aw. It was sweet and a bit funny, Meredith thought, how both girls rejected each other's apologies emphatically. On an island where teenagers attacked each other with little or no reason, it was unusual and refreshing to run into such an ultra-polite human. The exchange, as short as it was, made Meredith sorely miss days when she wasn't the prefect leader and had more time for niceties like personally meeting every new student and getting to know her recruits. It was much simpler when Seth was responsible for all the real work, all the combat and diplomacy, and all Meredith had to do as his girlfriend and de facto second-in-command was smile, act completely non-threatening, and convince students with her existence that the prefects couldn't be so bad after all. Perhaps if she had never taken up the top prefect position, she wouldn't be stuck in her office at all hours, provoking students to joke about "rare Meredith sightings." Maybe she would actually be getting to know more prefects like Felicia, and she wouldn't be losing all her faith in goodness and justice and heroism. But of course, the "princess" of the prefects, the one that Seth would secretly order other prefects to look after, had stepped up and become queen, and nothing would ever be the same, and there was no sense in thinking any differently. 

Ever the observant introvert, Meredith noticed Felicia's eyes flash over to the hand resting on her elbow and back. The moment had been too fleeting to discern whether it had been an uncomfortable one for Felicia or not, but Meredith hoped not. The last thing she wanted as she finally had the chance to spend some time with another prefect was to make the girl uncomfortable. Either way, she made note of it and decided to be a little more careful, just in case. Her thoughts then moved onto the context of their meeting, the not-so-ideal situation that they were overseeing.

"I'm... fine. The arrangements for this event certainly aren't ideal, but the school has insisted on it. To keep everyone safe."

“I suppose it keeps everyone safe if they’re separated. But they can’t always be safe, especially when they leave this place.”

Meredith certainly knew that she did not believe herself, but she was also getting the feeling that Felicia did not believe her either when she said that the purpose for the holding area was safety. Her fellow commander's responses were more muttered than spoken, after all. Besides, Meredith could not possibly expect a girl as reputably bright and competent as Felicia to believe that throwing kids in cages was motivated by good intentions? When the C Team Commander wandered away from her to make conversation with one of the cell occupants, Mer let her guard down and allowed her face to reflect the worry she felt. Her notably emotive eyes radiated with concern as she folded her hands behind her back. She couldn't risk turning around and allowing the students behind her to catch the moment of weakness, so she focused on Felicia's back and hoped the girl wouldn't turn around too suddenly.

The entire ordeal had "sham" written all over it, she thought. A tournament to win freedom? Given the Ashford Project's reputation of selling students as military weapons, it seemed extremely unlikely that they would set up a tournament to find their best fighter... only to let their strongest, most profitable commodity walk. No, the government was up to something again, and she had her suspicions. Most likely, this "tournament" and the arrangements in the basement were both ploys to rebreed tension on the island, to completely obliterate that pesky ceasefire between prefects and Battlefront that Meredith and Calista had lovingly fostered. A powerful race was most easily controlled when its people were constantly distracted with annihilating each other, rather than focusing on the common enemy. It was a good plan, and Meredith worried deeply that it would work. The timing also made sense, as the ominous Ashford overlords had just plucked Calista off the island as well. Eliminating one of the sisters who had created the peace made perfect sense if their goal was to destroy it. She also worried deeply that the government's next move would be on her. The government seemed to know that nabbing Meredith and Calista at the same time would do nothing but piss off both the school's main factions, turning everyone against them, so they couldn't just abduct her again. No, they must have had something much worse in store, and she spent many sleepless nights pondering what that move would be...

As Felicia finished attempting a conversation with one of the students and turned back around, Meredith snapped out of her internal dialogue. She quickly attempted to fix her expression back to its usual neutral gaze in time to keep Felicia from noticing her troubling thoughts, though she was sure the distress lingered in her annoyingly expressive eyes. However, distress over the situation momentarily turned to concern for the other commander when she noticed that Felicia didn't look so happy herself, a prominent scowl imposed on her features. Coupled with the muttering, Meredith was sure she wasn't fooling Felicia, trying to pretend that everything was okay.

 “He seems to like you. You must have very good social graces if children are drawn to you.” Meredith nodded and chuckled a bit, following along beside Felicia as she began making a round through the holding area.

"I guess there's a reason they call me the Mommy Prefect... you know, when they're not calling me the Nazi Queen," she joked, making fun of all the comically contradictory opinions of her. Her reputation had come to be a handful of truth, mixed in with a whole lot of made-up legend. And she allowed it. It was easier to keep herself safe if even the students who loved her also feared that she might be a psychopath. Scanning the area as they walked, Meredith noted that most of the students were paying little attention to the two prefects as they curled up in the corners of their cells, and she took the moment to act on the feelings that she suspected were mutual. "And Felicia... if you have any... concerns. Please know that you can always bring them up to me. When there aren't so many ears."

[Felicia Blackwood]

Felicia could really remember a time she was rude. Sure, she had been a little sassy when she was little, but no one really seemed to pay attention to it. The only ones who seemed to notice it were her adoptive parents, and they quickly cured her of that habit. Sure, a lot of people could say she was a b****, but that did not mean she did not try her best to be polite. After all, being professional was part of her job as a prefect. Another part of her job was protecting the students, and as her eyes shifted around, she somehow felt like she had failed. Some students, mostly the younger ones who did not really know what was going on, seemed distressed. She wanted to help comfort them, but she was not motherly in any sort of way. It was not that she necessarily hated children; it was more the fact that she felt awkward around them. They were most likely able to see past the wall she kept herself hidden behind, and the last thing she wanted was to be “called out” so to speak. Thankfully, people closer to her own age were able to barely see through their own egos, so her more private self was safe. As ambivalent as she was toward people in general, though, she did enjoy her position as a commander. Sure, she had a lot of paperwork to do, but it was a welcome distraction from the boredom she had from being ahead on her homework. People saw her around and most likely knew her name, whether they had a brief contact with her personally or heard about her from other students. Honestly, she was not fond of being talked about behind her back, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it. It was merely part of the territory of having a position of power and authority.

Felicia hated turning her back to anyone, especially her superior. However, there was a student who was making a racket and she tried to calm the girl down, but it seemed rather useless. The frustration of the encounter was etched all over the Team C commander’s face as she returned to her post near Meredith. She noticed concern in the prefect commander’s eyes. Clearly, the blonde young woman was worried about something. As much as the silver-haired young woman wanted to reassure her everything would be all right, she knew she could not. Besides, why would someone Meredith’s age take reassurance from someone like Felicia, who barely qualified as being in the same age bracket? She could not really hear the other young woman’s thoughts, but her eyes told the commander everything she needed to know. The prefect queen may have not said anything to the other prefects, but it seemed she was also uncomfortable with the current status of the sham that they were calling a ‘battle of wills’. More like the battles of b.s. she thought wryly, straightening her back to prevent herself from crossing her arms over her chest. She was rather irritated, but she did not want to give off the impression of such, because it might scare or anger the students around her more. She had to fight to keep a neutral look on her face despite her gut screaming at her to have a goddamn heart for once and let them go. She knew she could not, though, and that was what made her irate.

Felicia blinked a little bit when Meredith joked about her contradicting nicknames. She had never heard anyone call the prefect leader a ‘Nazi queen’. Sure, she had heard something in a similar vein in reference to herself, but never to the kindhearted leader who stood before her. “I suppose that’s a nickname the rebels dreamed up for you,” she replied with a quirked eyebrow, “Although, I can sympathize with being called a Nazi. It hardly applies, but I don’t let it bother me.” She shrugged a little bit, keeping in line with the other young woman as she walked. Her ruby eyes flickered to meet the commander’s violet ones and she nodded stiffly. She still did not really think her opinion held any value to anyone above Meredith, but to know her concerns were heard by at least one person instead of no one at all made Felicia feel a little better. I’ll keep that in mind, she thought, sending it in Meredith’s direction, though she received a little pushback from it. She figured that, if the other young woman did not hear it, she could always repeat herself aloud. She wanted the commander to know that, if they needed to talk privately, they could communicate through thought so they did not have to leave their posts or worry about students overhearing. The silver-haired prefect had almost perfected the art of blocking other people tuning into her thought ‘conversations’ with others.

[Meredith]

As the two proceeded on their roundabout walk through the holding area, Meredith let her eyes travel across the rows of cages, each prisoner looking more desperate than the last. Some even stared at the two prefect commanders walking side-by-side with beady, vindictive eyes as if to blame them. The twenty-one-year-old took care not to let her eyes linger on any student for too long, knowing that if she took in their sad, confused, anxious, and rightfully outraged faces for too long, her empathy would take over, and she would be adamantly ordering the prefects to open the cages and let the students go. Little by little, her bosses in the government had cracked down on the leniency they had granted her in exchange for her relative cooperation with their agendas, and she knew an act so directly defiant would no longer be possible without an extremely harsh rebuke. Eventually, she stopped looking at the students at all, fixing her head held high and her eyes straight ahead as if posture would somehow improve her will to carry out her orders.

I should just do it... and let them punish me, whatever that means, she thought to herself. Her position had become more of a source of stress and anguish in her life than anything. She had to keep order and make the school safe, while protecting the Battlefront so that when the time was right, the gifted could be free. If she spent too much energy quelling violence and promoting order and peace, she was accused of being just another traitorous pig among the prefects, reaping the lavish privileges the government bestowed in exchange for keeping her own oppressed. If she acted as a check against the prefects' power lust and protected the Battlefront, she was called a useless pacifist, rendering the prefects ineffective as a whole by always blocking their moves to stamp out the school's mutinous faction. All in all, her seemingly contradictory ideals made her a confusing and polarizing figure, and she could rarely win. Sometimes, she wondered if she had paid her dues, if she had suffered enough, and if the Ashford Project would let her out of her post to let her live out the rest of her days in peace, no longer simultaneously responsible for both keeping the peace and shielding the revolution. But she never entertained those thoughts for long. They need you, she reminded herself. Even if the government let her step down, there was no way she would be allowed to choose her successor. She could not be sure that someone like Felicia would be appointed. Far more likely, someone under their thumb would be shuffled out of nowhere and shoved to the top. 

But did they really need her at all? With all the whispers about her character that swirled throughout the school, Meredith could not help but wonder if every single criticism was true. Perhaps her desire to do two often conflicting jobs rendered her incapable of doing either one effectively. Maybe she was somehow both a Nazi and a sitting duck.

The turmoil led her to sneak a look at Felicia, wondering how her co-worker was feeling. She seemed just as stiff and uncomfortable as Meredith herself: strictly adhering to the authoritative yet open body posture and neutral facial expression that had been emphasized in their training. Textbook prefect posture. Her verbal response to Meredith's comment was equally neutral, diplomatic. She expressed no outrage at the fact that both women were often compared to genocidal dictators and conversely, did not state that she sympathized with the disapproval brewing against the prefects (which also would have been understandable, as they were currently putting students in cages). It was like Felicia, too, was working very hard to carefully suppress all her true thoughts and feelings on their current situation, fearful that the wrong response could have tragic results. She's an ally, Meredith thought.

And the prefect leader received all the confirmation she needed when she heard Felicia's voice projected into her conscience. And she decided to take the chance and speak her mind.

They're up to something, she replied in her thoughts. If you ask me, this tournament's not about freedom... it's making us forget the enemy. 

[Felicia Blackwood]

Felicia was still not quite sure what her role was in the prefects, in all honesty. Sure, she had been able to get a handle on her frustration and temper for the social interaction part of her position, but she did not know where she stood in the eyes of the government. She liked to think that they saw her as a model prefect; doing what she was told and only questioning when her gut told her something was not right. She kept her head down and mouth shut, metaphorically speaking, and focused on her duties at the school. It was not her job to get involved in the politics of anything unless it directly affected her team or the students. Sadly, though, she knew the government also had a sick sense of humor and disdain for the students they were claiming to protect. There were days where she wondered if the rebels were right and that if she was nothing more than a warden who was keeping prisoners captive, both metaphorically, and, in the current situation, literally. Her ruby eyes lingered on a cell where someone was slowly waking up, presumably from a fight. The confusion and anger in the person’s eyes caused her to look away, steeling her heart and emotions once more. She wondered if she would have any kind of feelings or emotions by the time she left the school; after all, she was forced to put them on the backburner so much because of her job as a prefect and she also tended to suppress them in general because of her beliefs. Showing emotion is showing weakness, she thought to herself, speeding up to be able to walk beside Meredith.

The more Felicia thought about it, the more she realized she had never interacted with Meredith much. Seeing the blonde young woman was like catching a butterfly; extremely hard to do. Despite having only met her a few times, the silver-haired prefect could not really find anything bad to say about the leader except maybe that she was a little soft-hearted. Then again, that was more of a personal opinion than true fact. Still, the team c commander saw nothing wrong with Meredith’s personality as long as she did not put anyone in jeopardy, and she had done no such thing. Besides she thought to herself, I have no right to judge her. I’m pretty strict and cold-hearted myself. Felicia would never deny that fact that she did not always have a warm personality. Keeping others at a distance was her specialty. She knew that her father’s death was no excuse for her to be so callous toward others, but she could not help herself. Whenever people turned away from her, whether it was because of death or some argument, it hurt, and she did not want to feel that hurt because it meant she was weak. She hated feeling weak because she knew people would take advantage of it. So, she just preferred to do her job as it was and be left alone otherwise. It was better for everyone that way.

Meredith’s response to her thought made Felicia withdraw from her thoughts. She focused on the leader’s words, turning them around in her mind for a few moments. It would make sense, she supposed. After all, pitting the students against one another would make them think their opponent was the enemy. Still, she had a sneaking suspicion it was bigger than that, even. She could almost sense that something was going to happen, but she did not know what, where, or when. Her gut was trying to tell her something, but she could not decipher the message and it was frustrating as all of hell because she was supposed to be smart. It could be about that, she thought back, But if that was the case, why go through all the trouble to contain non-participants? There’s something deeper going on here. I’m afraid if we figure it out, though, we might be on the chopping block. She knew the thought was grim, but she also knew how people worked and thought, especially people in power. They wanted to do everything they could to keep themselves comfortable and any threat to that needed to be eliminated immediately. She needed to investigate into the governments’ agenda, but, in order to do that, she needed to get further up the ranks. She considered asking Meredith about it, but she decided it was not a good idea at the current moment. She would probably ask when things were less insane and when they were not in a room full of caged students that could overhear their conversation/