by the book [open]

[JASON "JACE" DUPREE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 130px;][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; padding: 5px; margin-right: 5px;][STYLE=border: 5px solid #a5a5a5; height: 100px; width: 100px; margin-bottom: 5px;][/style][STYLE=background-color: #2d2d2d; padding: 2px; margin-bottom: 5px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #a5a5a5;]words -- ( num )[/style][STYLE=background-color: #2d2d2d; padding: 2px; margin-bottom: 5px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #a5a5a5;]tags -- ( open )[/style][STYLE=background-color: #2d2d2d; padding: 2px; margin-bottom: 5px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #a5a5a5;]notes -- ( n/a )[/style][/style][STYLE=text-align: center;]credit to zetta[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][STYLE= background-color: #1d1d1d; width: 350px; padding: 5px;][STYLE=background-color: #3C495E; margin: 5px; height: 20px;] [/style][STYLE=margin: 5px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #6a6a6a; text-align: justify;]When it came to the mutant trials, Jace was every defendant's kryptonite. The government had always exploited his ability at every opportunity. Justice--if it could be called that--was no exception, for no matter how the defendant pleaded or presented their innocence, there was no hiding one's mutation from the teenager. He could have told them without even entering the building, but no, they enjoyed flaunting him as their personal sensor. He would have gladly excused himself from having to face the pleading faces or angry glares of those accused of being a mutant. Then again, when had his opinions mattered? It wasn't as if Jace had anything against them personally. It was simply safer to do as he was told, a lesson he had learned the hard way the first few times he'd be brought to "testify". Sooner or later, when the unlucky mutant was caught and his lie discovered, he was the one who also had to pay. At least there were some perks to that duty. Some time ago, one sympathetic official had suggested letting Jace go to the central library while waiting for the next trial to begin, and that was where he was heading now. He'd been grateful for the reprieves, though after awhile he had the sneaking suspicion that most of it was just a way to encourage further obedience. Still. He was grateful--even if he had to have a soldier escort him, assigned to make sure he got back on time. The man had one hand on Jace's shoulder, practically steering him him toward the library. Jace glanced at him and was unable to resist a slight smirk. "You must hate this job," he remarked. The man's face remained impassive, as grim as the overcast sky above them. "It's like guarding a guard dog." Guard dog was probably inaccurate. He was used more like one of those dogs that were used to track down crooks, or in his case, those unfortunate enough to be born with slightly different DNA. To the youth's disappointment, the man didn't react to the jibe. Silence settled upon the pair as they continued walking briskly toward the building in the distance. A few minutes later, they were standing at the entrance. The soldier came to an abrupt stop. "I'll be waiting outside." With those few words, he gave Jace a shove, propelling him at the open double doors. Jace was perfectly fine with leaving the guy, and stepped inside without a backward glance. Upon entering, he couldn't help feeling the slightest bit more at ease. It was one of the few enjoyable aspects of his...career. The quiet, the books, and the solitude that wasn't quite like the solitude of being stuck in a room like a prisoner. Jace strolled slowly along in no rush. He was looking up, scanning book spines, when he tripped over a pair of legs. "Do you have to sit in the middle of the aisle?" he muttered, voice icy. [/style]