Dualities (Frankie)

Participants: June Moone /Frances Kane
Open/Closed: Closed
Location(s): Iron Heights Penitentiary, Keystone
Time of Day: Early evening
Weather: Sunny, with a chill breeze
Summary: June Moone has long tried to show Frances Kane that there is life beyond her duality, that she can live a normal life free of fear, putting Magenta behind her. It's a slow process, but for the first time in a long time, Frankie has been given leave, and June wants to show her that a trip to a local park isn't the end of the world.

Iron Heights loomed ahead of June, who stood looking up at the giant penitentiary with a mild sense of foreboding. She couldn’t help it. Prisons, no matter their location or outward appearance, had a way of reminding her of Belle Reve, and though that chapter of her life was long closed, she still remembered what it felt like to be locked away – even if it was of her own volition. For a long few moments, she stood in the penitentiary’s shadow, its uppermost floors blocking out the early evening sun. Then, she shook her head, pushing past the odd knot of nerves in the pit of her stomach and made for the entrance, pushing one of the large, double doors open with her elbow, her hands occupied by two take-away cups of coffee.

Once inside, she made her way across the run down reception area, to a desk manned by a seemingly emotionless middle aged woman, who sported the name tag ‘Jeanie.’ Placing both cups on the desk, June reached for the tote bag slung over her right shoulder, pulled out her purse, and readied her ID for inspection: she’d become so used to the process, she prepared it almost instinctively.

It had been almost a year since June had begun making visits to Frances Kane; the former villain widely known to the public as ‘Magenta.’ Her exploits had been widely reported on, especially during the many trials surrounding her initial incarceration, and further study about her behaviour and habits had been released almost yearly since, numerous psychologists interviewing and studying Kane to learn about her rather unique psychosis. While many theories had been presented as to how and why Frances had ever manifest the ‘Magenta’ persona, the one most mentioned was her fractured personality.

Ever since she had first discovered she had powers, she had felt a duality within her – a conflict between using her gifts and living a normal life. This was only exacerbated when a scientist, Alysia Damalis, forged a new personality and worked it into Frankie’s psyche. This personality could be activated with a single word, and took the name ‘Magenta.’ Lacking any of Kane’s morality, Magenta utilised her control over metals for vengeance, inflicting pain and terror on those that crossed her path.

It was a story that had spoken to June – perhaps more than any she had ever read. She knew the power that rested in a transformative word, knew what it meant to host a personality not one’s own. She had felt the same sadness and fear Frankie had felt, mourning lives she’d taken without knowing it, constantly worried that ‘the other’ would resurface. Frances Kane was a kindred spirit, and while June Moone tended to keep to herself, she truly felt that, in this one instance, she should reach out.

She was glad she had. Through months of just offering an understanding ear, trying to show that no matter how bad things had seemed, there was hope she could overcome her darker side and live a normal life, June had found a fast friend, someone that she actively enjoyed spending time with, and she believed Kane felt much the same.

“Evening Jeanie!” June smiled brightly, almost mocking the receptionist’s blandness. Her attempted cheer didn’t rub off.
‘Here to see Kane again?’
Moone nodded, and held out her ID. Jeanie eyed it critically, as if it had changed since the last time she’d seen it, then tapped away at the computer in front of her.
“So…can I go through?”
‘Take a seat, Miss Moone. There’s a change in procedure today. Miss Kane is going to be coming down to you.’

Frances Kane

"Are you out of your mind!?"

"No. And neither are you, Ms. Kane."

"I- I can't!" Frances shook her head then sprang out of her seat and started pacing around behind the couch, "I can't go out there!" She stopped and clutched the back of the couch for a moment before gesturing exasperatedly with her arms, "Don't you see? It'll just trigger... HER all over again!"

Doctor Iris let out a sigh and ran a frustrated hand through her hair, "The Magenta personality has been dormant if it even still exists. You haven't had an episode in over a year yet you refuse to leave the building to even just take your lunch in the courtyard."

"Well- Yeah. I mean, there's metal everywhere. I could fly away- escape! It's too risky. Too dangerous." There was no way she didn't sound as manic as she felt.

"Frances," She said patiently, "The whole purpose of therapy is to help heal your psyche. Every single doctor on staff has concluded that you are stable and of sound mind. It is literally wasting the taxpayers' dollars keeping you in here at this point."

"But-"

"The next step for you is to venture out into the world again. If you can manage that without incident you are that much closer to freedom. Something most people here would give a lot to possess."

Frances crossed her arms and looked away, "This is a terrible idea."

-----------------------------

Frances stood at the top of the stairwell that led down to the visiting area and then out into the lobby. One hand on the railing she stood paralyzed unable to make herself take a step forward. Her legs were actually shaking and her hand gripped the railing so tightly she was certain she was cutting off the circulation to her fingers. She felt sick.

She just stood there at the top of the stairs breathing. She wanted to tell herself that it was going to be okay. That everything wouldn't go horribly awry the second she walked out the door but not for one second did she believe that. She felt the railing crunch slightly in her hand and she jerked he hand away to see that she had in fact bent the bar. Great. She was going to have a panic attack while possessing superhuman abilities powerful enough to crush a car.

This was a great idea.

She shook. "I can't do this." She took a step down the stairs, her leg felt like lead. She reached out and clutched the railing again. She pushed herself to take another step and then another descending the staircase. "This won't end well." She kept thinking. There was no reassurance from herself. There was only one way this was going to end- badly. Maybe after she killed again they'd lock her up for good. They'd see it was as futile as she already knew it was.

"I just hope I don't hurt any innocent people." She whispered to herself trying not to cry as she took the last step into the visiting room. She reached an arm across her body and clutched her upper arm. She could feel the ankle monitor cool against her skin, plastic not metal so she couldn't remove it. It was oddly reassuring.

Just breath. You don't have a choice, they're making you do this.

She put a hand on the door handle and pushed down as the buzzed her through. She felt as though she'd already walked a couple of miles and was exhausted by the effort. She pushed the door open and slipped through as though keeping the door mostly closed would make her less vulnerable somehow. She flinched at the sound of the door closing and locking again behind her. She looked back at it for a moment and then turned to face the inevitable.

Frances put a hand on the wall to steady herself. She took a deep breath and lifted her eyes to scan the room halting when they fell on a familiar face. "Well, I guess you got your wish." Frances said trying to smile but failing miserably. "They practically threw me out."

Tag: June Moone

June had been pushing for Frances to leave the facility for weeks. From the moment members of staff had pulled her aside to explain they felt Kane was of sound mind, Moone had made repeated requests to chaperone her off-site. She was no psychologist, neither doctor nor nurse, but she had been in the unique position of being both patient and prisoner – one held captive at her own request. Moone knew well that the cells hardest to escape were those established by the self. The mind had a way of trapping a person and holding them back, fear stunting progress and healing. Before she’d been able to exert control over the Enchantress, when the dark entity had ruled their duality, June had been afraid to date, to visit friends, to leave her home. Even after she’d all but conquered her demons, she’d been slow to reintegrate into society, and she kept in constant contact with those that knew the arcane, those that could help topple the succubus should she ever return.

But she had reintegrated. She had started living again. And that would have been impossible without confronting the terror her split persona had fostered within her. She taken a step outside the confines she’d imposed upon herself, and the world hadn’t come crashing down. Frankie needed to see that, to experience a little freedom from the sentence she inflicted upon herself. Only through realising that the world hadn’t stopped turning would she be able to begin forgiving herself; forgiving herself for actions that weren’t even her own.

June was a little shocked the doctors at Iron Heights had approved her request, and amazed they’d convinced Kane to go along with it. However, sat in the bustling waiting room, the red-head couldn’t help but smile, excited to play any part, however little, in furthering France’s recovery. She wasn’t waiting for long - the door to the penitentiary’s cells buzzed loudly, and from a shadowed corridor beyond emerged a thin, blonde woman, pressed so tightly to the wall it looked as if she wanted to sink into it. With a mournful look, she glanced around the waiting room, and June was quick to offer an encouraging smile and wave her over. She made no move toward her, however, bracing herself against the wall and breathing deeply.

Standing, June went to her instead. Moving quickly across the space between them, she looped her arm around the other woman’s shoulders comfortingly, and gently tried to prise her away from the wall she'd used to support herself. If anything, she wanted Kane to rely on her – someone who wouldn’t bind her to the prison, unlike the structure which served as a physical manifestation of her mental incarceration.

Looking into France’s face, June noted the dark rings that circled her eyes, making her look even more miserable than she already did. Giving her upper arm a gentle and reassuring squeeze, June guided her to the seat she’d been sat on, and to the two waiting takeaway cups of coffee.
“Trust me,” she replied softly, in response to France's somewhat bleak assessment of the situation, "They wouldn't have done if they didn't think you were ready." Then, she nodded at the drinks. “I got your favourite.” Hoping to keep Kane distracted, focused on something other than her outing, she let her consider the beverage they moved to collect, before shepherding her toward the exit.

Frances Kane