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Moreau looked geninuely sad about Emelyn's decision to leave. He may not have been as sad as he gave the impression he was, but he did appear sad. He looked to Thorn, "this is no joke... you don't sound honestly convinced." Knowing Emelyn was in the room he attempted to not be too excited about the prospect of showing them.

Hmm... well he could see she didn't believe him. She stood up and put her hands on her boney hips, "Well if you want to convince me you are going to have to show me." She really wanted to see this, if it was true. She pictured his servants even going as far as to put high tech makeup or even torture a person into intense plastic surgery to carry on his beliefs just so he would pay them.

Emelyn narrowed her eyes, not appreciative of what she saw as a sort of reverse psychology. "Please don't be patronizing, Dr..." she said, a measure of restraint only beginning to creep back into her tone, "I'll stay to see Mr. Maurlias and this... miracle treatments. You have to see, however," she steeled her expression, hoping that she wasn't readable to this man, "that it's hard to trust the word of a man who's already lied to you once."

...She was so confused, underneath the steely gaze and resolute words. This man was part of the reason she was still alive today... and what if these experiments, whatever they truly were... really did cure cancer? Memories drifted into her sight, asking to be remembered... asking her to remember how it had felt to lose the most important person in her life- but she pushed the ghosts away. She couldn't seem firm to this man, and couldn't make her choice... if she was being ruled by emotions.

"Would you have said yes that night Emelyn? You were barely concience, we were trying to save your life as well." Moreau nodded and hit a button as a screen lowered in his dining area. "I'm, sorry for my outburst Miss White, just seems like the world wants me dead lately." Moreau sounded honestly sad.

"Subject 0002, Ambrose Maurlias, Night of first stage Transformation." he said as the screen flickered for a moment. Then it came on, showing the progression of Ambrose on his first night of transformation. He let them watch it, hoping this would settle their doubts. This was not like any well done CG that you can still tell it's not real, nor was it as grusome as the movies where skin tears. But Mr. Maurlias did not seem to be enoying himself at all.

Lauren's jaw dropped and stayed there awhile as 'Subject 0002' went through his transformation. Wow, that really did look like it hurt. She looked closer, he wasn't interesting at all to Lauren before, just looked like a stuck up rich boy but now he was... hot.
She looked over at Emelyn who seemed appauled. She obviously wasn't as familiar with pain and suffering being a part of every day life. Pain and suffering was alwasy there for Lauren, who became Thorn because of its abuse. She had already been through one transformation so why not another?
She just hated not being able to choose her animal but she knew the process had already begun.

Even though he was presenting the facts all straight up, he was not REALLY giving them a choice. The only choice they had was to accept the reality of the situation they were in or struggle against their new reality.

Looking at it now, she realised her life of running was over.

Her eyes welled up a bit with water. She wasn't going to cry but it was obvious she was holding back extreme emotions.
He was making someone know her world. This rich boy now knew what it was like to transform into a total outcast that was a monster to everyone around him. He was making people understand.

It all seemed crazy but Lauren knew it was time for another transformation.
That was the realisation that sent a tear down her cheek, as her mouth parted and her eyes looked at the doctor.
"Thanks." She said... simply and honestly as she started messing with her hair. It seemed a bit of the Lauren underneath the anger and rage came out from her rought exterior.

The emotions were still bleeding out of her, and she sat, knowing how wouded she must appear. It wouldn''t be easy... to try and describe what was going through Emelyn''s head, fighting with her heart. She couldn''t logically make this decision- for she knew that was what she was being asked to make. Whether to side with Moreau, and be a willing subject, and this ''family'' of which he spoke of with such desire... or to run into the jungle, or throw herself into the ocean. Logic wouldn''t help her here- and neither would her moral compass- for it had been lain out for all to see, only to show that it was... cracked.

Emelyn had always believed in right and wrong, and that there was only a paper-thin line of leeway between them. She was a traveler- a diplomat and a healer of broken lives- a tree thats branches arched up in hundreds of different directions, never going the same way but always facing the sun. The roots of that tree were deep-seated, ethical bonds to the earth, and to humility and the humble. Now, it felt like she had been uprooted, and her tree stood, vulnerable against the elements- one solid gust of wind, and she could collapse. For she realized that her morals were crumbling out from underneath her in light of everything.

She didn''t know what to think of these people. What they were doing was... reprehensible, terrible... unspeakable. But then...she felt like a hypocrite, and a fool... hadn''t she spent the last year saying that she would do anything to get Mizzie back? She would have done anything to save her sister- but there had been nothing she could do. Emelyn was helpless, and alone, and in the last twelve months of agony and despair... she''d often whispered into the darkness of the night, after hours of wracking sobs... that she would have gone to hell and back to make Mizzie live again.

Well... this was hell. And even if it couldn''t bring her sister back, it could possibly kill her murderer. It was unethical- it was... terrible treatment, but here, it could be done... and it needed to be done. The moralities of the mainland, the ethics of a people bound by rules and laws... couldn''t save her sister. Emelyn was a creature plagued with guilt- she''d lived by her own laws of right and wrong... and now she saw that variance as being one of the things that had killed Mizzie. If only there had been someone brave enough to do evil, to create good- maybe she would still be alive. Em would rather have Mizzie at her side, tainted by a dark decision... than dead with the angels, her soul clean from wrongdoing. ...In her state, Emelyn didn''t have to chance to think of this as selfishness. She''d needed her sister, and had felt empty, alone since her death.

Moreau was doing something evil, but something evil that would help her kill Mizzie''s murderer. Since logic could not entirely make this choice for her... her heart did. It said... ''I am willing to sacrifice my soul, to avenge this death. ...What else do I have? I''m all alone.''

Emelyn wiped her eyes, even though the tears had never gathered there, and looked up at the madman... or was he a genius?... and inhaled a deep, ragged breath before she regained some measure of her composure.

"If it''s a martyr you want... a martyr you have."

Moreau patted both of them on the shoulders at the same time. "You've made the right decision, for now, go back to the village. I'll send you instructions or invite you for dinner if we need to talk again."

Moreau sighed "Remember the rest of the villagers are potential enemies now, of course they might just be misguided. Maybe you can help them, maybe not... just let me know of anything you hear. Understand I'll have people watching out for your safety at all times."

Moreau grinned "I'm always watching, especailly my favorite two subjects." Moreau lead the two women out who had each made their own personal pact with the Devil that night.