Gus drags his gaze from the water to Rashad, briefly. "I would not call them prisoners," he answers, "and that isn't so much my department." Technically true, though he has been working toward the inner sanctum gradually enough and he's learned the vague details. He was educated on the disaster some months ago, the failure to keep an overly powerful being contained, the violent fallout of that. And he's heard of more recent failures, as well - two subsequent break-ins, followed by an utterly undetected escape. Heads are rolling over that. There may be an opening for him soon enough.
"It would be more accurate to say we sometimes have the need of containing dangerous persons - people or entities who might cause harm to us." This is the explanation Gus has been given by higher ups, and it suits his purposes every bit as well as it suits theirs. "The rift has brought forth many powerful and dangerous people. Part of imposing order is keeping these people under control, is it not?"
He looks back at the water, feeling only the mildest twinge of contempt. Rashad is a fool if he thinks his apparently sacred 'order' can be accomplished without the proverbial breaking of eggs. Order is not clean. It is brutal, built on fear, death and silence. It is what shattered Gus' world and built him up anew. It is Maximino's blood in the water.
He hates the water.
"You said it yourself, order is not the natural way," murmurs Gus. "We work to right chaos, and sometimes, there are those who must be dealt with."
no subject
"It would be more accurate to say we sometimes have the need of containing dangerous persons - people or entities who might cause harm to us." This is the explanation Gus has been given by higher ups, and it suits his purposes every bit as well as it suits theirs. "The rift has brought forth many powerful and dangerous people. Part of imposing order is keeping these people under control, is it not?"
He looks back at the water, feeling only the mildest twinge of contempt. Rashad is a fool if he thinks his apparently sacred 'order' can be accomplished without the proverbial breaking of eggs. Order is not clean. It is brutal, built on fear, death and silence. It is what shattered Gus' world and built him up anew. It is Maximino's blood in the water.
He hates the water.
"You said it yourself, order is not the natural way," murmurs Gus. "We work to right chaos, and sometimes, there are those who must be dealt with."