Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was just another regular afternoon in the labs, with the usual number of alarms and explosions going off. Lucky was just minding his own business, carrying a couple folders from one place to another as an excuse to get up and stretch.

Nobody bothered someone who looked busy...

The other explosions had been just a little more inconspicuous given they were a little ways behind him, enough for him to believe that maybe ballistics was just having a really bad day, but the one in the room right beside him was a lot more noticeable. There was a spray of glass, blood, and several bodies right through the hall.

Lucky slowed his walking speed just slightly in a mixture of concern and fear for his well-being, staring over his shoulder at the incident --

And walked right into Caelius.

He proceeded bounce backward slightly, looked forward, looked up, froze in place, and showered the surrounding area in loose, unstapled papers.

If he had been worried in the past that Caelius had been a hard read, his prayers had clearly been answered by the expression of severe disapproval he was being looked down upon with. Lucky more or less wilted under his direct gaze. The empty folders he held in front of him were the only thing between him and what he imagined in a hundred hundred brief scenarios was instant death.

It was only when Caelius looked away at the new explosion that Lucky realized he had forgotten to breathe, and resumed.

He spent about three seconds still waiting where he had been left, unmoving. If he never had to find out why Caelius needed to see him in his office, he was sure he would live a longer and happier life for it. Stay, and wait for Caelius to come back and throw him through a wall? Or...

He glanced at the general lab-based carnage that had preceded Caelius.'s arrival Actually, almost anything sounded better at this point. Like escaping. Yes.

Without bothering to consider that this was probably only stalling the inevitable and making it a good deal worse, he let his proceeded to take off down the hall and around the nearest corner, crunching broken glass underfoot.

Lucky made an honest effort, but he had failed to account for several things:

One, that he had never run a marathon in his life.

Two, that he had picked quite possibly the most difficult person on the island to outrun.

And three, that he had picked quite possibly the most difficult person on the island to outrun.

There was someone grabbing him by the collar. So much for a getaway - and there was the wall. He felt the impact heavily through his fear shield. Lucky nodded up at the death lead a few times blankly from where he had ended up rolling away from the wall. Well, running was out.

Exactly five minutes later, the door to Caelius's office opened slightly, and a wiry trainee in a singed and slightly bloodstained coat slipped through. He shut it quietly behind him, but kept his hand on the door handle out of some kind of masochistic optimism. The fact that it was the circle-marked hand he was basically hiding behind his back to do so was probably totally unintentional. Probably.

He pretty much radiated discomfort at the idea of being in here, from his body language to his expression to the tone of his voice. Lucky was the kind of person who would have looked nervous and guilty here even if he hadn't done anything. "S-sir...?"

There was an audible noise of fear as the sword lodged itself about an inch to the left of Lucky's precious corporeal form. He nearly jumped; the pinned jacket prevented him from getting very far.

At Caelius's prompting, the life trainee shed his coat in record time and left it hanging from the door. He took a seat - the only one available, and far from the exit - and began to nervously fold his hands together a few times as each arrangement felt progressively more awkward.

He'd be lying to say he hadn't at least tried to imagine how a confrontation like this would go. But ay dignity he had imagined himself to have in this kind of scenario apparently never existed in the first place to lose. For all intents and purposes it looked like just a simple evaluation. But given that Caelius was not his division leader, it was most likely far worse than that. There were about 0 reasons why being in this office could be a good thing, or even a neutral thing. But did he know? Lucky had been counting on Sam's gift of borrowed time so heavily he had forgotten it only applied to half of the problem.

The other half was giving him one of those inscrutable looks that sent his eyes wandering the desk for signs of another vial of death acid.

The silence seemed to go on forever, and escape had already been proven to be a no-go. Lucky gave a distressed look to the paper Caelius was engrossed with. The waiting was going to drive him insane. And still Caelius kept writing. Lucky was startled to see him finally stand up again, but only managed to meet his judging gaze for a second or two in passing before losing his nerve. It was much safer to look at his own shoes.

That was, until Caelius set the sword across his desk like some kind of dire warning and began to talk. The life trainee lifted his head again, brows lowering a little at a time. There was a pressure building in his mind with every word, an indignation that threatened to burst forth if it was pushed too far. He'd been living in fear of Caelius for weeks, and there was a dangerous freedom to finally being confronted. Mimsy's strategy was the only thing keeping his impulses at bay. He just had to say whatever Caelius wanted to hear... that was all...

Lucky looked like he was going to say something a few times during Caelius's speech, but ended up just appearing more like a fish than anything, opening and closing his mouth periodically between sentences as his courage continued to be more or less nonexistent. It wasn't about being special, because he had only ever been forgettable. It was about helping. It had only ever been about trying to do the right thing.

And now it was probably going to be the death of him.

Lucky clenched his teeth. There was something ominous about the way he referred to Sam as his predecessor, and how he seemed to be happy she'd died. He glanced at the sword again. This pretty much settled what the visit was about, though. Lucky never had a hope of outrunning his mistakes if Sam hadn't. Had she fallen into this the same way? She might well have been the one who told Caelius what he was up to. He would never know now.

And as if Caelius even needed to ask. They both knew the answer already, and the look on Lucky's face said as much. But being contrary was not going to help anything. He remembered what happened to Finn. "They are the same thing."

Caelius had leaned forward just enough to send Lucky unconsciously pressing himself to the back of his chair. The threatening vibe was coming through very clearly. Every insult had him visibly wincing and shrinking a little more into his seat.

"M-my decision?"

But that was maybe not the question he had expected. How had Caelius known...? Well. He could guess. Even Sam couldn't get an answer out of him - because there wasn't one, not yet. Her plan had seemed the most viable, laying low, playing both sides against one another out of necessity. It was survival. Murderous tendencies aside, choosing one meant a gruesome end at the hands of the other. Choose the Speakers, and he would be dead almost assuredly. Choose the Hunters, and--

That was the thing, though. Lucky was dangerously close to death, clearly, but he wasn't dead yet. He was being offered a choice. And Caelius didn't seem like the type to waste his time forcing someone's hand just to gloat when beheading them at the beginning was so much more his style. He'd made it clear many times he had no patience for hunters that didn't fall into line with his plans.Which meant...

There was another long, uncomfortable silence as the gears turned in his head. For a moment, the corners of Lucky's mouth turned up slightly in a way that Caelius might have found familiar.

"Ah. Yes... You are right. I- I made mistakes. I looked for knowledge in the wrong places. But you have shown me the error of my vays." He was already back to the usual look of resignation to being oppressed, that had served him so well his whole life so far. He spread his hands a little in deference, before clasping them together in somewhat of a begging gesture. "I am still a Hunter. How could I choose anything else... sir?"