Frederik is a Weirdo 4
He was sleeping.
The one responsible was… sleeping. In his own walls.
Frederik Smith – apparently – slept in his own four walls. And, according to his member-file at the CIA, he would need to arrive there at eight.
All fresh and happy and as if he had not cloned people without their consent.
Trevor… was not happy.
Cloning was not something he had considered.
Of course. He could not be cloned *completely*.
It was not possible. Prime was not… cloneable. But his corporation – his BODY – certainly was. ‘Enoch’ was. And… he didn’t want to be cloned in that way.
Enoch had existed like this since… a long time.
He was BORN that way. Hs parentage meant something. His fusion with an angel *meant* something. It always did. It always had.
It’s a meaning ‘Frederik’ shouldn’t take away. Not that easily. He shouldn’t talk so easily. He should not be able to make things happen with a ‘clean up crew’ and…
He rubbed his head. Trevor didn’t mean to be upset. But it was HIS body. And HIS responsibility. And no one should interrupt. No matter how ‘demonic’ the activity.
This was not something he could *accept* interference from.
It was his own body. His.
And this ‘Frederik’ clearly not cut out… for anything.
This time, it caused a stir, maybe because it was so close to his usual wake up time: “Go to work”
The man in baggy closes woke up and blinked. Then shrugged: “Mmmnh, s time. Talk more later?”
“Maybe. Now go. There will be no more material from me”
“Aw… mkay” – he stretched and walked out. More or less unceremoniously. No arguing. Nothing. t
The man walked into and out of his life.
Telling him about something life-changing without a second thought.
Mnh.
“Hello, Leviathan”
She sat there – currently, choosing that form – over a newspaper, reading it the old fashioned way.
“Hello, Metatron. I suppose this is not a polite visit?”
It was an orderly room, that Trevor saw himself confronted with. A cosy kitchen. Small table, sunlight flooding in… green shimmer’s in the wall to get her element across…
A perfect place to greet a sunset.
Not a non-polite visit.
“So, what can I do for you, if you already risk the cease-fire to meet me like this?”
“There are clones of me. I want there to be not,” he said.
Her eyebrow’s shot up.
“Frederik contacted you, then?,” she folded the paper, put it in the specific hamper.
“You could say that. -he is not reliable,” it was as close to a complaint that he could go.
“Mh. I will accept your assessment for now,” she gave him her full attention, ”So… you seem to see your human corporation as your… property?”
“Of course”
“All right. I will accept that as a fact to your being,” she looked into nothing for a moment, then shrugged. “The information in available. I do not think your wish to be confronted with everything. What do you wish to know… and how do you wish to proceed… in the name of peace… naturally,” at least Leviathan was… more open to an idea. For now.