Regrets Aren't Enough [Arthur & Gupta]

[Deleted]

"I had a way then losing it all on my own"

This was it.

The first thing that was required after purchasing a “mutant” from the Underground was to have them chipped. It was a precautionary measure, in order to ensure that they wouldn't flee or make any escape attempts – it was a relatively short process, but still painful from what Francis had observed. It was absolutely horrible, but there wasn't a way he could get around it; at least, not yet. The Freedom Fighters had discussed the issue, regarding what to do – as some people, like Francis, were currently taking more passive measures for now and buying the “mutants” to give them small reprieves of freedom. They had not currently figured out a solution, but there had many suggestions; such as simply removing the chip when back in privacy and simply keeping it on the “mutant's” person, rather than injected in the small of their back.

So, for now, Francis was stuck with the problem of bringing Arthur to Gupta Hassan's pet shop to have him chipped. It would be much easier if he was able to have the option, but if he waited too long, he'd merely be fined and Arthur would be forcibly dragged to the chipping – not that he wasn't already being forced, but Francis could imagine how much more painful it would be if that was the case. There was also the matter that the attorney general would most certainly get his newly bought “pet” chipped immediately, without any hesitance. He was a government official himself, a high-ranking one at that, and he knew the rules impeccably well – there was no denying that.

”I am sorry, Arthur,” said Francis on the ride over, glancing out the window and the scenery blurring as they sped by Archadia's city buildings. There wasn't much else to say, so he remained silent for the rest of the way, anxiously fixed on anything but the contents of the car. Francis still remembered his first meeting with Arthur, all the way back in the Underground only a week or so ago – he already felt guilty for having to bring his new companion to be chipped.

When they reached the pet shop, Francis stepped out of the car and waited for Arthur to join him. The day was just the slightest warmer than the average temperature, but he was comfortable in his jacket. He told his driver – Pierre was his name – to wait for them to here, as they wouldn't be too long, and Pierre nodded, performing the task of parking the car with diligence. Francis studied the building for a moment, as if sizing it up, before sighing and glancing over at Arthur with regret. He wished there was some way he could not have to do this – some way to avoid it – but they hadn't yet found a loophole. ”Are you ready, mon cher?”

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[Arthur W. Kirkland]

☒ @mona ✐ 766 ✉ <3 MADE BY MEULK OF GS

And so it finally happened. Arthur truly had little idea that someone would finally dare to purchase him, the mutant with the unattractive scowl, the mutant with insolence and resentment bleeding between the cracks of a broken individual. Of course, he would never let them see that the system had damaged him in any way. All they saw on the stage was a proud and defiant mutant who almost seemed untouched from the harsh hands and the even crueler philosophies. They could see what he wanted them to see. He didn’t want to be bought, because that meant feeding the system that broke people and used them no less than living pieces of property. Animals—that’s all they were to them. Despite the fact that Arthur’s first encounter with Francis in the Underground wasn’t what he’d expected, bumping into any human while he was outside of his imprisonment, let alone the damned attorney general, was fodder for a catastrophe. An animal. A piece of property. That’s exactly what he was being treated like at this very moment—brought into some establishment to receive an injection beneath his skin, a chip that identified who he was and who he currently belonged to. Unlike most of the young mutants in the Underground, he’d never received one before, because he’d been lucky enough (in his honest opinion) to have never received a sodding contract in the first place. And here he was, in the man’s vehicle. Even with the anger and attractive sentiments of rebellion were holding his thoughts fast, he couldn’t help but to marvel at the scenery that they passed. He hadn’t seen the sky in four years. He hadn’t felt anything like the plush of the car seat beneath him in years. His fingertips, hands placed on either side of his knees, pressed against the fabric, savouring something as silly as the suppleness. Francis’s words of apology brought him back to the situation, and his eyes were drawn from the scenery visible outside the car window. His jaw was set, he could feel the tension in his tendons, but he didn’t respond. He wondered if Francis truly felt any remorse, or if he even understood the scope of what was about to be done to him. In Arthur’s mind, he couldn’t. No human, especially a government official who held power, could ever understand what it felt like to be treated less than their natural entitlement as superior creatures. Perhaps he could sympathise with their situation at best. The man hadn’t been cruel at their first meeting. He didn’t seem to relish the moment upon finding Arthur wandering outside of his cage, as most humans probably would either find an almost childishly cruel sort of amusement or irritation upon spotting a mutant who had escaped their confines. It wasn’t unheard of. Still, the few times that Arthur had glanced over at the other man, his expression was wrought with guilt, always fixing his attention on everything else but him. The idea of the attorney general feeling guilt confused him and he reciprocated the silence, the space between them a mess of tension. By the time they had arrived at their stop, at the pet shop, Arthur began to feel a faint stir of nausea. This was really happening—he was going to be chipped like a bleeding dog. He stepped out of the car after Francis, likewise unable to tear his eyes from the already loathsome building. His gaze refused to leave the word ‘pet’ over the store’s sign, the tingling of anger already spreading. He could faintly hear Francis telling the driver to wait for them. Once more, Francis spoke to him, asking him if he was ready. ”No,” Arthur couldn’t stop the sharpness from entering his voice. His filter felt too overused for it to be of any use for this moment. ”I don’t believe I’ll ever be ready to be treated like a loathsome dog, though I expect that I’ll be treated even more like one if I don’t follow through.” His gaze was briefly upon Francis, for a moment, free of its mask of indifference, alight with resentment toward the situation, and though he’d never admit to it, a certain sadness as well, as if unconsciously grieving over yet another shred of humanity about to be torn from his white-knuckled grip. ”So, I suppose I'm as ready as I’ll ever be,” he finished quietly. His arms crossed as he glanced once more at the pet shop, as if safeguarding from the pain that would likely resound from battered pride after stepping through that door.

[Deleted]

"I had a heart then but the queen has been overthrown"

His heart was ready to break. Sometimes, he thought that this was possibly the most inhumane part that occurred as soon as they had left the Underground. It was only after this part that they would be able to finally have some peace, time to themselves, and would be able to momentarily, perhaps, pretend that this slavery didn't exist. To look past the iron chains that bound these people as servants that were no better than animals -- for God's sake, most dogs were probably treated better than the "mutants" that were kept in the Underground. It was sickening.

Arthur's words were bravely spoken, filled with acceptance and sadness and rebellion and hopelessness. Francis felt all of the pent up frustration he had -- they shared it, the burden between them. This wouldn't be the first or the last time this would happen, but that didn't make the situation any less or more than what it appeared.

Francis acknowledged his companion with a nod, longing to be able to offer his hand as comfort and security; but it would only manage to do the opposite at the moment. Maybe one day would come when he could, but today was not that day. Arthur's crossed arms were a physical sign that he was attempting to protect himself, barricade himself away so he didn't have to go through the chipping process -- useless, but symbolic all the same. It didn't go unnoticed on his part.

Instead of continuing to dilly-dally, he chose to push through the door, expecting Arthur to follow after him. The other man had no choice, of course, but he didn't want to focus on that.

The shop itself was accommodating; it was wide, filled with plenty of space. It didn't seem to be all that intimidating or any less safe than any other store might be, but the knowledge of what was to come weighed heavily in Francis's mind. There was nothing he was going to be able to do to prevent the pain that Arthur would soon be put through for the sake of ensuring he wouldn't attempt to run away. It was ominous, and the unsettled feeling made Francis anxious; nevertheless, he swallowed the bile threatening to rise ungraciously from his throat and approached the counter.

"Good afternoon," he could just barely manage a smile, hating himself for the next words that were uttered from his mouth, "I am here for my pet to be chipped."

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