>>Will the real Editor please stand up? And admit to being a godmodding jerkface? EVIDENCE:
The Narrator: "What?" he demanded sharply, not in the mood for games.
The Editor:Ā "You actually came alone. I'm impressed."
The Narrator: "Yes, because impressing you is so incredibly high on my list of priorities," the Narrator folds his arms over his chest and glares.
The Editor:Ā "Let me rephrase. I'm impressed by your stupidity."
The Narrator: "If you're going to do something, get on with it or let me go," his voice was growing in impatience.
The Editor:Ā "You're very quick to rush headlong into destruction."Ā Her smile could curdle milk.Ā "Bad memories?"
The Narrator: "What if I told you I didn't come alone?" he says suddenly, a hint of rushed panic in his tone. He had to get out. Now.
The Editor:Ā "You're a bad liar." Still. She did nothing. Yet.
The Narrator: The Narrator chuckled weakly. "You're right. I'm not a selfish bitch. Can't say the same about you, however. What the hell do you want?"
The Editor:Ā "Information."
The Narrator: "Going to have to be a little more specific than that," he replies sarcastically with a sigh.
The Editor:Ā "Fine. Who mended you?"
The Narrator: "None of your damn business," the Narrator retorts, fists clenching against his bunched up biceps.
The Editor: A threatening step forward.Ā "Who. Mended. You?"
The Narrator: The Narrator instinctively takes a big step back, away from her. "My fairy godmother. The Pope. Santa Claus. Jesus himself. It's not relevant."
The Editor: The apparatus appears.Ā "Answer me. Now."
The Narrator: His jaw sets at the sight of the trap she'd put him in last time. "I did," he replies defiantly, "The next question would be lovely, let's move this along."
The Editor:Ā "Give me the truth or punishment will be in order."
The Narrator: "My safe-word is 'calligraphy'," he jokes weakly, denying the panic welling in his chest.
The Editor: She rolls her eyes. Another step forward. He couldn't back up much more in the tiny space.
The Narrator: The Narrator edges around the room, away from her. "Why are you so bent on hurting me, anyway? What did I ever do to you?" he fought to control the panic welling up in his voice. The need to knowĀ whyĀ this woman felt the need to chase him down and nearly destroy him repeatedly rose to his mind.
The Editor:Ā "I'm doing my job."
The Narrator: "So there's someone above you, telling you what to do?"
The Editor:Ā "No."
The Narrator: "Ah." His flat tone betrays the death of the little glimmer of hope he had.
The Editor:Ā "Would it make any difference?"
The Narrator: He holds up his fingers in a pinching motion. "Tiny bit, but no, you're just completely evil, aren't you?" The Narrator continues to subtly work his way around the room, away from both the trap and her.
The Editor: She appears beside him.Ā "Going somewhere?"Ā She grabs his shoulder firmly.
The Narrator: Going completely rigid at the touch, he turns to her, roughly jerking his shoulder out of her grasp, his expression darkening into a vicious scowl. "Don't you ever touch me again."
The Editor:Ā "Or what?"Ā She steps forward. Herding him toward the apparatus would be easy.
The Narrator: "Ah. Here's where I'm supposed to have a clever, terrifying threat, isn't it?" he clears his throat, stepping back once, twice, hyper-aware of the device at his back and its proximity.
The Editor:Ā "No. Here's where you cooperate and tell me everything."Ā One more step back and he's in the apparatus.
The Narrator: "Oh." He laughs nervously. "Sorry to disappoint you, but-" The Narrator moves so fast, the motion was almost imperceptible as he steps forward quickly, grabbing the Editor's wrist and using momentum to swing their positions so that she stumbles back into her own trap. "-I'd rather not," he finishes as the device locks.
The Narrator: >ā>ā*licks finger and marks one point for Narrator*
The Editor: The apparatus would not lock. It was hers. Not his.Ā "Nice try."Ā She steps out of it.Ā "But not quite."Ā She grabs his tie and pulls him in.
The Narrator: His victorious smile lasts only a half second before his heart drops into his stomach, then leaps into his throat as he's dragged into the horrible thing. "No, no, no--!!!" the godawful thing clanks shut. "--Damn."
The Editor: She stands in front of him.Ā "Shall we try this again?"
The Narrator: "I'd rather not," he grumbles, pouting as he hangs loosely. In reality, he was panicking, mind racing as he wonders if there's any point in trying to get free. Surely there had to be a way.
The Editor: She puts her hand on his chest.Ā "Last chance."
The Narrator: The Editor's warning was met with stony silence.
The Editor: Her fingers dig into his chest again. The horrible pain was instant.Ā "Who mended you?"
The Narrator: He didn't utter a sound, save for a muffled choking sound he holds back in response to the pain. Screw her, she wasn't going to get a single word from him.
The Editor: She shoves her hand further. More damage. More pain.Ā "Answer me."
The Narrator: Teeth digging into his lower lip, he remained silent.
The Editor:Ā "I will kill you."Ā She whispers to his ear.Ā "No one will care. GLaDOS has moved on to G-Man. Oh look I thought you two were close too. Apparently not."
The Narrator: That got a physical reaction from him. His head snapped up and he glared at her, seething hatred in his grey eyes. The words stabbed deep in his chest more that her hand did, splintering like broken glass and wedging themselves deep into his heart. "Shut the fuck up," he growled weakly. The Narrator wasn't one for profanity, but that had been a step too far.
The Editor: She smiles.Ā "I will if you talk."
The Narrator: "Certainly. Here's some words for you: Go to hell and rot there, you poisonous bitch. You might as well kill me or let me go, because you'll get absolutely nothing from me."
The Editor:Ā "It would be pointless to kill you."Ā Her hand twists his code to the breaking point.Ā "But you're fantastic bait for bigger fish."
The Narrator: His breath comes out as a rattling gasp, immediately trying his best to disengage from her by backing up in the stupid trap. "He won't come. I won't let him."
The Editor:Ā "You won't have a choice."Ā She pulls the plug on him. Sentient code broken.
The Narrator: His grey eyes flash brilliantly silver before he goes completely limp, unconscious and dead to the world.









