The more seconds that passed between Victor's latest act of brutality and the present, the more that annoyance and disdain began to flood Jane again, replacing the terror that had taken their place. Disdain, to the rebel, was a staple. It provided the impetus to do her underground deeds, if ever she needed to be reminded<i>why</i>she was doing them. Annoyance, on the other hand, was a less common occupant of Jane's headspace, but at that moment, it was present in response to her complete and utter lack of control over the situation.<br/><br/>She couldn't fight back - that punch from earlier was more than enough to show her she was outmatched, and her head had just started throbbing - she couldn't run, lest she bump into Lavonne, and she couldn't exactly cry for help, either. What she could do - and, unfortunately, the only thing she could do - was yield to her captor's whims, letting the taller woman yank her from her knees and push her into the wall. A layer of dust dispersed on impact, irritating her nose as she sucked in a sharp, pained breath. She coughed. At that point, Jane had begun to anticipate which parts of her would be sore the next morning. Her legs, her lower back, her ribcage, her shoulders, her head most of all, and with the way the officer was throwing her around, as a package to be delivered, rather than a human body, Jane was certain she would be adding a few more appendages to that list.<br/><br/>As her captor whispered to her, it was all Jane could do to keep from squirming. Feeling her breath on her ear was comparable to being caressed by a snake. Not that Jane had ever experienced such a thing before, but as of that moment, if ever the occasion arose, she could confidently say that she knew how it felt. Despite her discomfort, however, Jane managed to roll her eyes and scoff. The officer mentioned Lavonne again, which was surely meant to be a threat, but Jane could tell by the way she started for the door and changed her mind that she was just as reluctant to encounter Victor as Jane herself.<i>How funny</i>. She could even swear she saw the other woman shudder.<br/><br/>Subtly, the situation was beginning to change, if only in Jane's head. Suddenly, the woman in front of her - although Jane was still at her mercy for now - was becoming less and less intimidating. Jane could feel a sense of...amusement...arising.<br/><br/><i>"Don't even try and wipe your dirty little face with things you have no understanding of."</i><br/><br/>"Mm-hmm," was all Jane said, cocking an eyebrow and pursing her lips in response to her condescension.<i>Is that all you've got?</i>she seemed to say with a single look, and her eyes wandered down to the woman's hands as she prepared to restrain Jane's wrists. Unfortunately for her, it appeared she had left her handcuffs behind. It was clear by then that the officer was scrambling, and Jane let out a low chuckle. She couldn't resist the opportunity to push her buttons. "What's the matter? Am I making you nervous?" she asked. "It's a shame you dropped your handcuffs, those are always my favorite," she teased. As her captor removed her scarf, Jane humored her, playing compliant and sticking out her wrists to be wrapped in fabric, still warm from hanging around her neck. It was a bad habit of hers, playing with fire, and she knew that the current circumstances were far from favorable, but the illusion of victory was enough for Jane.<br/><br/>"And it's not about being a 'hero', either. It's about doing the right thing. And if the right thing is against the law-," she shrugged, "then I guess I have to break it."<br/><br/>Then the other woman took on a different tone as she mentioned Victor once more. It caught Jane off guard; for a moment, she thought she detected a sincere, genuine dislike of the man in the officer's voice. And, in another instant, Jane wasn't so sure, as she mentioned the militia and their need for merciless butchers. Whoever this woman was, while she may have been less sadistic than Victor (if that counted for anything at all), she was definitely a sadist nonetheless. Jane couldn't quite pinpoint what kind of person she was supposed to be. Although it hardly mattered, she reminded herself - this was just another militia dog, after all.<br/><br/>Jane's amused expression quickly turned into a scowl. "People aren't animals," she said, an ironic statement given the way she viewed the militia herself. "You may not go around leaving trails of dead bodies like your 'friend' out there, but you're no better. I'm sure you get off on cruelty just as much as he does." It probably would've served her well to omit that comment, but it had already been spoken. She was sure the other woman wouldn't care, in any case; it wasn't like the militia members felt any remorse for their actions. Cruelty was never accidental. "Anyway," she continued, shaking her head in disbelief and gesturing with her tied wrists, "what are you planning to do with me? I doubt it'd be in either of our best interests to go back outside right now, at least, not back into the alleys. Should've minded your own business."