This is a voyage through the possibilities of who he is and who he can be in various universes. I welcome you to a world of each and every characteristic of DeVanté is existing as a separate entity in its own universe.
created: 23 February, 2018
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She sits in the small, yellow chair made specifically for children of her stature. Silence commands the room, only making an exception for the humming of the building's air conditioning system. The auditory conditions have lasted an entire thirty minutes. The child, refusing to speak, stares up at the scientists walking in and out of the room. She hears their mumbling as the entering doctor heeds the warning of her colleague regarding the child's silence. As the child remains still, a brunette woman of Colombian descent sits down in a chair in front of her. She carefully crosses her legs in her skirt as she holds onto her clipboard.
"Hi, Keisha... My name's Dr. Montoya." The child's eyes travel from the floor up to the piercing blue eyes of the building's head physician. "How are you doing today?" Keisha holds her silence in the palm of her hand as she keeps an oath of silence to her own comfort.
Behind a double-sides mirror, a team of physicians, scientists, and detectives watch the interactions. Keisha has been coming to the facility for an entire three days. With her every visit, they are no closer to gaining her trust in order to receive the answers they seek. The stakes are rising as the sand dwindles out of the hour glass's top half. They're running out of time. Keisha enters the room for every visit with the knowledge that the smiling adults before her have no plans other than to probe her.
"She's not still talking," sighs Edward Phillips, the head detective assigned to the case involving Keisha. Chelsea Rodgers stands next to Detective Phillips, her hip making a loud beep of alarm. All eyes turn to Chelsea. "Dr. Rodgers, do you mind cutting that off?"
"That's actually..." Chelsea pushes the glasses on her face up her nose's brim with a partial squint in her right eye as she reads the number. 243. "He's here now," she says. The two other physicians of her psychiatry department adjust themselves at the thought of Chelsea's outside reinforcements. "He'll be here in a matter of twenty minutes."
Detective Phillips asks, "Who?" His partner folds his arms across his chest in agreement with the questions being proposed.
Chelsea's eyes turn to Helen, a woman holding onto the last name of Woods and a job title equal to Chelsea's own. "Someone who will get the job done. Have no fears," smiles Helen as she presses down a button that causes a vibration in Dr. Montoya's pocket. "She can step out. Keisha has been staring at her for five consecutive minutes."
As Dr. Montoya leaves Keisha, a nurse enters with a meal specifically made to cater to a child after she filled out a form stating her favorite foods and snacks. The facility does their best to accommodate those they serve. Keisha silently eats her pizza as the tight, compacted room of professions find themselves nearly arguing. The men visiting from the police station press the scientists and physicians harder than need be. A strong presence of pressure due to the ticking clocks forces the detectives down the throats of the psychiatrists and psychology specialists. Tempers nearly reach a boiling point when the door to the discrete office is opened.
