This choice: Hoping against hope, you ask for the real selection... the male one. • Go Back...Chapter #4Hopes Dashed by: Guyman   You pose the question as an assumption of fact. Of course they aren't actually going to put you in a female body?
However, you're only rewarded with a sinking heart and clammy hands when you look around. The two agents are (poorly) attempting to hide small paroxysms of laughter and the doctor in charge seems flummoxed, his only response so far being a series of confused blinks.
Slowly, the doctor collects himself and gives you the answer you've been dreading.
"Sir, I'm afraid that these are the only bodies we could spare for someone of your ilk." He waves a hand over the array of pictures on the table.
He counts off the reasons on his fingers, to your dismay: "You dropped out of highschool, so we can't in good conscience offer you a profile with higher education; Your particular... profession lends you quite a bit of experience in careers of these types. We've actually had to put quite a number of your victims into protection of these sorts,"
He sends a sharp gaze your way, the first hint of malice he's directed at you so far.
"We can't put you into the position of a-a souteneur, the particular criminal you're testifying against would almost certainly discover a random one popping up; and as for the reason you can't be a male, we simply do not have any prepared on short notice. It is imperative that we assign you a profile as soon as possible — both for your safety and to finally catch this criminal."
You clench your fists. It seems well-reasoned, but you still feel like you're being jerked around by the Feds.
Seeing your evident displeasure, the doctor immediately switches from 'logical robot' into damage control.
"A-ah. I see yo-you're upset, but some of th-these profiles are perfectly enviable! L-look!"
He picks up a random picture, quickly assesses the back — but then quickly puts it down, a visible frown creasing his forehead. He repeats it a few times before you notice a pattern — the ones he doesn't elect to show you are the profiles of whores, prostitutes, and sex workers. It seems these profiles aren't as enviable as he would have thought.
Eventually though, he finds some that fit his example.
"Look, this one has quite the cushy job, and a house all to herself! As long as you quickly adjust to being an adult model, you could live quite comfortably!"
http://66.media.tumblr.com/2bd63e211171e...
You eye her with a dry throat. She resembled one of the blonde girls you 'managed', almost down to a T. And by the sound of it, she did fairly similar things. The doctor continues, however, undeterred.
"And this profile is only nineteen and already financially independent! Th-that may be because she works as a waitress but you could... graduate highschool? Ah, I'm sure that's because she has so much on her plate — we might have to install neural inhibitors elsewise.
https://i.imgur.com/7H6Tdyf.jpg
She looked like one of your 'perfect recruits': guileless, young, struggling a bit with her money. The youth you'd regain was a small boon, but small was the emphatic word.
"And this profile has managed to work her way up to secretary, despite her lack of education! You could use y-your business acumen to maintiain her position!"
https://78.media.tumblr.com/564fdf98464f...
You look at the doctor's face. There's no ironic smirk or sign of trickery in his eyes. He genuinely believes that she was hired for her skills. The agents on either side, meanwhile, are disguising their mirth as coughing fits, their faces red and purple respectively.
You sift through the piles of profiles on the table with increasing fervor. It seemed the doctor was wholly honest about those being among the best there.
Your mind made up, you...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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