Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by RedWinter, Feb 20, 2013.

  1. It's cold, it's dark, and it's damp-but try not to think about that. It's no five star hotel, and the beds are thin as paper, yet still hard as rock. Yeah, it sucks, but it doesn't matter anyways, you'll only have to stand it a little while. But even the few weeks spent here are hell. The food tastes like ass, the small portion your allowed; it might be better to starve to death. Oh, but don't mind my complaining, there are plenty here who enjoy this rust buck; that would be the guards. While we wait here on death row we are permitted regular beatings, and there is no fighting back. But they aren't the worst of it, oh no no no. The others are. A ship full of the galaxy's most dangerous, deranged, deadly, and totally bat-shit-crazy criminals is no fun filled crew ship. Though, even though the shitty food, flesh wounds, ect. we still can look forward to the moment on the electrical chair, or maybe the injection, or perhaps even old school beheading. I hear they have a wheel called the "wheel of death" that they spin to chose your fate. Fun hu?

    Welcome to Condemn baby!

    "So how did we get here," you ask? Well we all got here by different means. The better question would be "why are we here?" but that still is retarded to ask, really pointless, don't ya think? No, what we gotta ask is, "What the hell are we gonna do about it?" ​
  2. Zain walked down the halls of the ship almost freely. He never caused any trouble and was now flying below the radar. The guards didn't even check up on him at night to make sure he was still there, though that was a dumb move. Unlike most of the other prisoners he was just planning an escape before he made his move.

    As he walked down the empty long hallway he listened to the dull tapping of his shoes, 'tap tap tap' it was half annoying to most people, most prisoners stayed away from this hallway because of its ridiculous echo but Zain didn't mind it. It was calm, empty, and somewhat predictable unlike what his usual missions were. It gave him peace from the constant thoughts of what he had done when he was free. Though he did usually kill leaders that cause problems and trouble he still had two things to regrets. One of them being not taking down the last three bounty hunters who were some of the lowest scum he ever set eyes onto, which would give his vast riches to the police force who desperately needed it as their forces began to get more distant and the other was killing a world leader who was actually planning something decent. He wanted to start some trading thing that would help feed his starving and dying people. This organized, quieting hall way took his mind off of his few regrets and helped him think about his plans for the future... his escape.
  3. Soup again. It was always either soup or stew or something he had to eat with his fingers. The metal hooks clicked on the table as he raised the spoon to his lips. The way his mouth separated into an open flower of teeth, made it hard to keep the liquid in his mouth. About half made the trip down his gullet, the rest spilled back into the bowl.

    The soup was Boruuk, a very meat-hearty meal. That was good; he liked the meat. Being a natural carnivore easily did that. But the meat was from a bunch of dumb animals. Lactra saw that as such a waste. People, no matter what kind, took care of themselves. Some liked to be strong and fit - they had the toughest, leanest meat. Then there were those who overindulged on a regular basis - so much fat - so juicy. He looked around at the other prisoners from his lonely table. One had tentacles on her head. Hmm...he mused. Would taste delicious fried. Just dip the whole head in egg and flour, then throw it in hot oil. There were more than enough xeno sapiens around. Their meat was juicy and usually fat-free at the same time. There were a couple furry mammals, too; he could rich off their coats. A few humans, also. You had to get lucky with them. And he had a special cooking method for all of them. Soup soon wasn't the only thing dripping from his mouth.

    His metal hook tapped at the table once more. He missed his arm. It had been crippled some time ago, no longer of any use, so he had it removed and replaced. He ate his own flesh, but realized that his didn't taste as good as the others he had sampled. Too salty. The arm gave him weapons as well as eating utensils. He heard it was locked away somewhere on board, but with guards around him at all hours, he never got the chance to find out where. Even now they stood flanking him. He wasn't defenseless without his special arm - far from it. There was, however, no way he could get away with their deaths.

    So Lactra sat there, among a vast banquet, with only the dog's food to eat.
  4. It was a matter of cultural oppression and lack of mercy among peoples of the galaxy. That's how Ghriin saw it. Oh, and it's pronounced "Jeh-reen", not "Green". That mistake had been made SO many times in her processing. Luckily, she had gotten one of the more culturally savvy and merciful caseworkers, so she was able to avoid the prison jumpsuits, and, while her Aaft'Drednus swords and knives were taken away, she was able to keep her bladed hair ties. The caseworker was a good man, Ghriin felt sorry for him. It was the only reason she hadn't broken out. Yet. A few more of her kind had been locked up as well. Damn shame, all this cultural oppression. She thought she also heard a Blackguard Monk was incarcerated here. She wanted him to go free.

    As an aside, outside of her knowledge, if she knew her younger siblings were locked up with her, she'd be ballistic.

    But she had no knowledge of it. So she was stuck whetting her hair ties on the cell, carving various symbols correlating with Blackguard religion - which she followed. She knew she could never become a sister of the order, being a smuggler, but she had her faith in Kefla - or, as he is known intergalactically, Kephalla the Mad Justicar. Indeed, it would be his will she would steal herself away from this place. She would abscond on the spacial wings with allies, it was a prophesy she had found in her carvings. She only wished she could rescue her brothers and sisters in chains, her fellow Andha'Sisha. It would be her will as an extension of Kefla.

    Ghriin had made a shrine carving in the wall of her cell. This was actually rather astonishing, considering her cell was made of some alloy. Of course, she was on an inner cell block, so her cell was still safe from the risk of puncturing and letting out the air. But the metal used to make the blades of the Andha'Sisha were much stronger than most metals on other planets. It was a complex mixture between various metals, including mercury, titanium, and iron, or the refined version, steel. The mercury was used to grant the blade not only the ability to poison an enemy without venom, but also a flexible blade for picking locks. The titanium was used to harden the blade so it could cut through bone and was also used to resist elemental decay. The steel was easy to sharpen and decorate, thus, the blade would be deadly and ornate. There were many other metals adding to what's listed and attributing more advantages, but let's not get all spacey-wacey.

    She had an idea. She'd pick the lock, just this once. She was well behaved, but a bit rebellious in a sense. Ghriin never shut her mouth to the guards. But she did as she was told because... Well, what else was there to do? No other options. So for now, she'd pray to Kefla for a small time. She prayed that the lock would fall to her blade, that she would not be doled punity, and that her people would flourish on her return. She prayed in her native tongue and ended her prayer on the phrase, "Hibha Veir'Forla", pronounced "hah-bee vee-reh-flo-rah", which translates to "For the flowers of the realm", a Blackguard customary salutation to Kefla.

    Cracking her fingers and neck, she immediately got to work on the lock. She was somewhat high security, mostly for her murders and evasiveness, so she had to check both ways before starting. Like most smugglers, she had experience in lockpicking, mostly so she could get into locked morgues. She had never found a mechanical lock which had more than ten tumblers, and she had a chip in one of her ties in case it was electronic. The electronic chip uploaded a simple hacking program to the keypad, wherein she would merely have to find the correct character within 7 attempts or 30 seconds. Considering the alphanumeric character combinations in most electronic locks, this would seem hard, but she was experienced. She would often use her first five attempts on A, Z, 0, 9, and # in that order. If none of them worked, she had two more attempts, and, most likely, she'd have it. The hacking program also gave her hints suggesting whether or not it's in the right character group, and what multiple of five is it within.

    This lock was two-sided so guards could come in unaided and leave using their key or card. The thing was, though, sometimes it was hard to tell if a mechanical lock was really mechanical. There had been an uprise in electronic keylocks used to fool thieves. They frustrated her because they were so unpredictable, but she deals. This one had two methods of locking, and one lock, which means either she had to use both, or either one, but never any specific one. If it didn't unlock on the first successful pick, she'd have to pick the other lock. She started with the mechanical lock.

    Sliding the blade into the lock, she let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't an electronic lock. She got to work, twisting the blade and the ring in her hair tie, causing different grooves to rise and fall on the blade, working the lock. She heard a few tumblers check above so she started working more in the blade, getting into the correct position, and...


    Single lock. Mechanical or electronic. Easy stuff. She must not be on too high security. Hell, there was some guy walking around the halls. That clicking of his heels was soothing. Rhythmic.

    She pulled the gate open and rolled out silently, pocketing the tips of her braided tails so the hair ties wouldn't clatter on the floor. This guy was one of those assassin types. Contract killers and whatnot. Sounds like a good enough guy. But she had to get away from her cellblock before she could talk to anyone. She closed the cell door behind her and made her way to the mess hall.

    A good sum of her people were here, getting their fill. They'd need it for the road ahead. Andha'Sisha were easy to torture, due to their two hearts. Would be a Hella thing to go through for any creature.

    Dear Kefla, what is that pink thing over there!? Why, that's Lactra. The friendly neighborhood frikkin' CANNIBAL! Why is he not in restraints? Of all the people she thought deserved to be in here, she thought he deserved it most. A good tip for anyone, never take meat from that guy. It's very likely to be some sentient person who's body is being desecrated by being devoured by some flower-mouthed... Abomination.

    She really didn't like that guy. Especially since she stole from the dead to help the living, this guy eats the dead AND the living. Not a good person. Not in anyone's book ,she hoped to Kefla. Andha'Sisha aren't a vegan people, but at least they eat Kefla's bounty, that is, non-sentient animals. Sentients were not meant to be eaten, it was well-known they felt pain, and fear, and horror. They were not meant to be in the middle of the food chain. "Curses from Kefla upon you, cannibal." It had been awhile since she had some of the Condemn's ass-tasting soup, so she decided she'd get a meal while she was here. Sit with some of her people. Discuss religion. Andha'Sisha were easy to talk to when it came to religion. As long as you don't deny them their beliefs, you can get along with them. Or maybe they'd discuss some of their greatest adventures. Of course, she was a celebrity among the Andha'Sisha, so she'd likely be swooned over by men and ganged up on by women. Woo~oo~, it's Ghriin Vuirtka! The top smuggler in Andha'Sisha space! Kefla bless! Bluh bluh bluh, she'd have to ask to be treated like just another person they met on the street so she'd feel less... compounded.

    So, she grabbed a tray and ran through the line, then sat with a large bunch of her people. "Hey, guys." A couple of Batallion soldiers, a few smugglers, and some people in for possession of stolen organs, or illegal cybernetics, some bollocks that can't be helped. "Are you...?" "Yeah, I'm Ghriin. Don't get all excited, as far as you're concerned, I'm a nice person you met at the bazaar. Just don't get all celebrity on me, alright?" The smugglers smirked, the Batallion soldiers saluted, and the others just nodded.
  5. "Dr. Splice" paced in the cell. She didn't eat, she didn't sleep, she thought and thought and mumbled. The place was too protected and weird for even her ingeniousness to get herself out. She was almost an animal herself at this point. Confined and not splicing. Eating animal-ish foods and smelling rotten bits of old rodents. "Get out... how? Not that way! Guh! How stupid of me! Such a dumb ass!" one might hear Dr. Splice mutter. It was as if two people were in her, talking over and over--of course being around chemicals and all of that does drive a person crazy. "Stupid ideas! Stupid ideas go through stupid people! I'm fucking stupid! What the hell is wrong with me?!" as the first person would say. The second would say something like, "Too stupid, little rat! How do you suppose we get out if you can't think of anything?! You are so helpful... just horrible, so horrible." These "little" chats went on a lot from Splice's mouth and always the "two people" would call each other names and swear at each other, and attacking at each other with words.
    Splice had been like this since the day she had been thrown into this dump. It drove her insane, but she couldn't stop. It was scary but made you worry when you saw such a thing.
    Splice still paced, still cursed and yelled at herself, and still hadn't come up with an idea. Before she was but in the prison the two people would say things like "Very smart of you to think of that!" "Oh please! Don't give me the credit! You came up with the idea! How smart!" Time had changed her horribly, made her an animal but one with some sensibility. Escaping would be nice, but she had no where to run to... no where to hide. Escaping was just as bad as staying in this prison.
  6. With each pant her lungs burned more and more, like coals buried deep inside her sternum, and this made her tall point ears drown out any sound. Her throat swelled dry, and she fought to gulp. The world spun around her, wind tossing and tangling her hair with as much ferocity as her pursuer… This was it…

    That night rolled around in her mind like a broken record, the tortured replay. Those silver bars and Plexiglas was a sign of her failure, of her capture. She was known for escaping, known for her trickery, thus she was holed up in her own private cell with surveillance time when she was allowed out and about. For now, all she watched was the ceiling bobbing up and down, to and fro, in her line of vision. There was no time to waste, no reason not to stay in shape. Her routine crunches reminded her of the revenge, of the freedom, she would have. She didn’t sweat, but panted, and did so lightly. The guard assigned to watching her arrived in the middle of her workout and she ignored him at first, until he jerked Juni from her cell and escorted her to the cafeteria. She only gave him a light growl from the contact.

    The smell of the crap they served hit her nostrils like the stench of decaying garbage. She was forced into a seat before the guards found their place nearby. She would eat; she would keep her strength and dream of the day she would repay them. Ignoring the taste, she scarfed down as much as she could. Next, they were to take her to the showers. She never hated water so much.
  7. Zain sighed, if he never got out he would die from thinking. He did it far too much now, regretting the few things he wished he had changed. The first thing he was going to do, when he got out, was kill those ‘scum of a bounty hunter’ men that had taken his money. They didn't deserve it; they were merely pawns in the game. He rounded the corner and found a couple guards laughing hysterically in the hall way. One was laughing so hard he had to lean up against a wall. They were new, judging by the way they strapped their equipment to their sides they hadn’t been inside the ship for more than a couple days. He walked past them and they immediately stopped laughing, “Halt.” The voice said ringing throughout the small side hallway.<o:p></o:p>
    Zain listened and stopped, he wanted to lay low, become almost forgotten about and ignoring orders was not a good way to do that. “What do you want?” Zain said in the nicest way possible. This guard was going to try to flex his new power, Zain could already tell.<o:p></o:p>
    “What are you doing here?”<o:p></o:p>
    “I’m just taking a small stroll as I do every day.”<o:p></o:p>
    “I will not allow that. You must go back to your cell where it is safer for you, me and the other inmates.” The guard was trying to sound authoritative. He seemed to think if he used the word ‘safety’ it justified any action.<o:p></o:p>
    Zain turned around “Listen new guy, I do this every day, unless a fight brakes out or the entire ship goes into lock down I am aloud to stroll freely.” He said sternly keeping away the smile as the guard squirmed in place.The new guy clearly wasn’t expecting such a response from someone dressed with the low threat symbol.<o:p></o:p>
    The guard finally was able to think of something “You seem a bit hostile and have a hint of anger in your voice. It’s your cell or the confinement cell.” He said smiling.<o:p></o:p>
    “Fine, but I will exercise all the rights I have on this ship… no matter what you try to bring up next time.” He followed to new guards up to his cell and lets them lock him in. Luckily he had a couple ‘friends’ in the guard and they gave him things to warm it up a bit. He had the nicest cell in the whole ship, everything from a couch to a book shelf filled with books. His bed had an actual mattress that wasn’t worn out. He had it good as far as this ship was concerned. <o:p></o:p>
  8. Another xeno sapien, Lactra mused. Another meal I can't partake in. Just as well; they've filled me up on this shitty Boruuk.

    Lactra's brief time in the mess hall was over. He was supposed to be brought to the mess hall after everyone else, then taken back to his cell before anyone else, but he hadn't made a single move without their permission in weeks, and his guards were getting sloppy. They hauled him away, making the mistake of directly touching him, which they weren't allowed to do.

    They led Lactra back to his cell, one guard in front while the other was behind. The one behind wasn't doing a good job keeping him in single file; Lactra kept leaning his right side against the wall. He used it as an abrasive edge to slowly sharpen the hooks of his limb. The guard did, however, notice the screeching sound.

    "Hey, cut that out," he said. Lactra was touched again as the guard straightened him. "Straight line."

    "Sorry," Lactra said. "Bit of an upset stomach."

    The guards should've been suspicious of his polite behavior, but they had gotten lax in their duties. He soon found himself at his cell. It wasn't the nicest cell, but it had by far the most expensive door. A completely transparent carbon-silicate blend made up the bulk of it, with a set of thick, high-security locks like the kind you'd find on a bank vault. As the first guard opened the door, Lactra started gagging. He doubled over hacking sickeningly as his mouth dribbled out a small stream of bile and saliva.

    "Ugh! Open the door before he gets sick all over the place!" The guard said.

    "Oh god! Looks like it's too late!"

    Lactra vomitted his entire serving of soup onto the floor outside his cell. He wasn't sick. He just wanted an empty stomach for his next meal.

    The first guard got the cell door open and put his hand on Lactra's shoulder to try and usher him inside. That was when Lactra spun around and hit him with his prostetic! He hadn't sharpened them much on the wall, but he did enough to draw blood. He pushed the guard, and himself, into the cell. The door had a motion sensor, and automatically closed behind them. The guard was trapped with a hungry cannibal.

    He quickly rushed at the door, shouting to his partner. "Help! Get me out of here!"

    But there was nothing the other guard could do. Lactra's mouth opened up and wrapped around the man's neck, pulling the flesh from his spine and causing a great spill of blood on his clean concrete floor. Tendons and muscle were caught in his teeth as Lactra's mouth's individual parts twitched and pushed the flesh down his throat. He had four tongues that he stuck out and licked the blood around his mouth hole, looking at surviving guard like he might be the next course.

    That should remind them of who's locked up here, and now I've got dinner and a late night snack.
  9. A good amount of drabble and gossip among the Andha'Sisha later, and Ghriin decided it was her time to leave. "Just so you guys know, I'm not exactly out of my cell by privilege. I must be off." She stood up and performed a traditional bow to her kind. "Hibha Veir'Forla," she said, leaving for her cell. She had blessed her comrades' futures by leaving these words.

    On her way to her cell, she noticed a guard making rounds nearby. He must've heard the metal shift beneath her feet, because he seemed to bristle. She got off the loose steel and clung to the wall in the shadows. "Who's there? Inmate Zain? Who is it?" The guard jogged over, brandishing a weapon, causing Ghriin to cling closer to the wall. "Ah, shit, these panels are loose. I'll have to get maintenance in here." The guard holstered the weapon and continued his route.

    Watching her feet and keeping down, Ghriin resumed her trek and noted her block was going to be released for social hour soon. She was one of the few Andha'Sisha in her block, so she escaped a lot. She needed to get back quickly.
    Back in her cell, Ghriin sat on her bed in an attempt to look bored. The guards had likely been a hall or two behind her as she returned, so she figured she got back at an ideal time. "Alright! Social hour, we're checking residents!" Ghriin smiled and stood up, near to the cell door, her braided tails flowing behind her.

    Today's guard was a schmooze. A human, but also, a Xenophile. Lucky her. He also happened to be a pervert. "Y'know, I could arrange for a conjugal after Social hour. Keep you out of the room a little more?" Oh Kefla, this guy was treating her like a prostitute. It's not like she was a Tarea'Sisha wearing the traditional prostitute's attire. She was an Airi'Sisha smuggler. She took this moment to think about the Andha'Sisha traditional saying of refusal. She'd translate it to English for the foolish human. "My apologies, sir, but I must decline. I fear I do not seek such an interaction with you." He seemed a bit disgruntled, and also, stupified. "Okay, let me say that simpler. No, you pig."

    Ooh... That left a mark. Next time he'll learn to curtail his libido.
  10. 'Plop.' The soup was utterly disgusting, noting had Madel ever tried had been so bad, not even tuskarian balls. They had been a bit salty, but if they were burnt to the perfect crisp one could almost stand the taste. It was a delicacy in the
    Savarian sector. But this, oh this was something else. Its texture was never the same; one second it would be liquid, the next a chunky soup. Madel stared at it with a hallow and sickened face. She was near about to hurl just from the smell. She put her spoon down and turned away, and swallowed a bit of stomach acid that came up. 'So gross,' she thought. She couldn't do it. Madel stood up and flipped her tray over, and it splattered all over the fish like man in front of her. The steaming stew dried out his skin fast and he looked a lot like jerky.

    She had gotten up in time to see infamous Lactra the CoatHanger escorted away from the table. She had heard many stories of his gluttony and peculiar tastes, and she found to be just the kind of 'man' she could fall in love with. 'Large, strong, crazy, cannibalistic, hook hand... Whats not to love?' Madel never was known for her good tastes in men. Her last 'boy friend' had been a seven foot tall yern with a thing for dead people. Madel had only managed to snatch his attention by... that's not something you want to hear, let's just say she will never date a necrophiliac again after that. But certainly a cannibal wound end better than that. She could stand a few 'love bites.'

    Madel laughed at herself as a guard grabbed her arm, cutting of circulation, and began to drag her away for killing another inmate. "Jeez, it was just an accident." As she was being hulled away to detention she caught a glimpse of a xeno sapient with a crowd oohing around her. 'I will never understand those people,' Madel sighed. She had once had a xeno on her ship. She had been very religious and would often speak in her native tong. Madel didn't care, just as long as she didn't go around converting the crew. She was dead now, dragged off to the gallows for a good old beheading, much like the rest of her crew. Madel had no idea how many were alive. She did know that Ash Kill, but they would say it like Ashkell, was dead. She had been Madel's lover at the time, and a bit of a witch. She was all into the witchcrafty things and had chants and rituals she would do all the time. Well she had been trying to do one of these rituals with Madel when the two were caught. The bastard guard that had caught them ended up being a superstitious human catholic, and a little off his rocker. He burned her alive.


    Next thing Madel knew she was in detention. Detention was their fancy hole in the ground, very fancy; there was a coal fire underneath her. The was a bit of space for her to sit on with out burning herself. The guard that had detained her looked down through the grate and spat on her. "Scum," he muttered under his breath.

    "Call me if you get lonely sweet cheeks," Madel called out, wiping the saliva off her forehead. "I'll be here." Detention was't really all that bad, a lot like a sauna actually It also gave her time to think; think about leaving this god damned rust bucket. She couldn't help this about her ship, the lovely Miss. Vagabond, sitting all by herself, waiting to be scrapped. When Madel stole it she was but 14. It had originally been named the Jenton, which was really lame, so she renamed it. Not long after did Madel get her new name. Captain Madel. She had been a great captain with a loyal crew, each from a different corner in the galaxy. They went from system to system stealing, smuggling, loving, killing, breaking property, and all the fun stuff. Not any more. She had blew it and got the whole of them captured and nearly all of them killed.

    "Fuck this place," she cursed. 'I am going to go crazy if I don't get out of here.' But obviously that wasn't something she could easily do on her own, and without her old crew she would have to assemble a new one. 'Wasn't it hard enough the first time?' But at least here all the galaxy's best criminals were already here, so she didn't have to look far. Madel had already picked out the cannibal she had been checking out. Maybe she would also pick up that goddamn douche that paced up and down the halls all night. She was considering the little Xeno girl, but wasn't set yet. And Madel might even pick up that girl that talked to herself (a lot of inmates did that really, but this one was close enough to hear). Without her Pelz she would have to grab another furry, and the busty kitty she had seen the other day might do the trick.

    Madel spent her entire time in detention running though a list of possibilities. It would take time, but she would assemble a team, grab the Vagabond and get the hell out'a here. She just knew it. 'Hope I can stand them all.'
  11. After hearing a bit of gossip, Ghriin finally heard that a notorious pirate captain had recently been thrown in The Sauna, as she called Detention. It wasn't much punishment for her, she just had to take a nap and she felt right at home. All she needed was either sand, or an Aira'Fari sheet to lay on, and she'd feel like she was back at the homeland. Of course, this pirate captain was a squiddy head, as she called certain species like the captain's. She wasn't exactly sure what she was, so she stuck with that. Besides, in good company, it was a good joke, even if it was a bit racist. This seemed like a good chance to create a scandal. Get at the system or whatever. And so Ghriin made her escape, which was relatively easy if she stuck to the shadows. Here we go again, another escapade and some other shit.

    Jailbreaking was one of Ghriin's specialties, along with speed hacking, organ theft, and body smuggling. Maybe this squiddy head could help get her out in the long run. As it was known, squiddy heads often had a natural preference for cold water, not hot steam. Some were odd and were okay with it, though. She just hoped she didn't take a bad turn on that idea. She was remembering why she didn't try to break out before - because she was having a good time, and that nice caseworker she had. Ah, screw it, she knew she wanted to get out, but she'd need a ship to do that. That's another reason she hadn't escaped yet.

    After sneaking her way into the Detention Hall, Ghriin attempted to determine which Sauna the captain was in. A manifest would help. Or an audible confirmation. She looked into the previous hall to make sure there was nobody around. "Yo, squiddy head pirate captain, tap your top so I know where you are. I'm busting you out." A couple of taps came from one of them. And another. Dammit, some people just wanted to get out. "Tell me something about yourself so I know where you are."
  12. Splice's stomach growled, hungry and demanding food. Food would be good, if it wasn't as horrible as it was. She had basically locked herself in her cell after she had fed on the 'food' for two days. When Splice thought of it she would vomit a little.Splice got out of her cell to get food, but then pulled back before taking more than ten steps. Reminding herself of the taste she retreated. She sat down on a metal bench sort of thing as her stomach growled at her. "Shut up, my tounge doesn't want to taste crap today!" she shouted at it. "Maybe that is what it is, crap... they're feeding us fuckin crap!" "You are the one who should be shutting your mouth. We need to eat... get us some food!" her stomach seemed to answer back. Splice's stomach and herself had quite a long conversation about food, ending in just swearing and name calling. Completely insane. A crazy thing to do.Once again I tell you Splice is much better around her specimens and fresh air... at least not insane.
  13. Uneven bursts of freezing cold water—everywhere—and three guards watching. This was standard for the showers, and it was Hell. Being kept in a tiny cell was bad, but the cat-like beast was used to curling up somewhere cozy regardless. The worst part, the part that made being imprisoned far worse than anything else in the stinking cesspool, was the cold dirty water and cold dirty eyes on her. Juni hadn’t had alone time since she was captured, because once she was out of their sight, there was a great chance they’d never find her again. Being watched all hours of the day made it hard to stash any tools, but Juni had her ways. What else were big boobs good for? The giant fluffy tail helped, too. Since she’d been there, she failed at getting to know anyone else, but maybe she needed to branch out? She needed to find someone who could distract the guards long enough for her escape. Of course, they would want out, too.

    After five minutes of the ruthless, icy water, the guards ordered her to stop and get dressed. She was more than happy too, despite the suds in her hair and fur. She was made up of flesh and fur, depending on the part of her body. Her face and chest were flesh, and prickled now with goosebumps. Torture time was up and she was back on her way to her cell.

    “I don’t want to return to my cell just yet.” She muttered a single word until then—not even to gasp in shock of the impossibly freezing showers. The escorts glanced back and forth at one another, clearly caught off-guard, “Can’t I at least chill out in the mess hall or lobby or whatever the frak you call it?”

    “Is she allowed to do that?” The one wearing a gas mask asked. His companions shrug. This was all very reassuring to Juni. Seems these buffoons had no idea what the rules for watching her were. Finally, after stupid shrugs and half answers, they agreed to escort her to the social hall. One of the guards drove the muzzle of the gun into her back when she slowed and ordered her to keep moving. Such a friendly bunch. Using only her eyes, like most of the fugitives there, she glanced around, summing up her options. This wasn’t going to be easy.
  14. 'I guess "squiddy head is supposed to be me,' Madel sighed inwardly. "Not the worst I've been called to be sure." Madel really wanted to know who it was though. It was the last thing she expected really. Her first thoughts went to her old crew, and the idea gave her hope. But she didn't recognize the voice, so obviously not. She let out a heavy, disappointed sight. She was going to miss the lot. "Something about myself hum?" She wasn't sure what was good to tell. She wiped a bit of sweat of her forehead; it was so damn hard to think anymore, the heat was getting to her head. "Uh, well I am a captain of a ship," she began. "The Vagabond." She stopped a moment to think of something. "Some sectors have given me nicknames. I have so many. Some call my 'Parton of the psychos' or 'curator of the crazies.' I really like 'the pirate with tentacles on her head with some fuzzy thing following her.' That ones my favorite." Madel laughed at the recollection of someones description of her. The police weren't able to get a good drawing from that statement.

    Madel shifted uncomfortably in her small sector of safety; this hole was getting near unbearable. The heat was wearing her out and she nearly felt like fainting, but she knew is she did her face wouldn't be there when she woke up. "Ugh, what else do you wan't to know?" her voice was beginning to waver. "If you're going to get me out of her you better pick up the pace, the guards will be doing rounds soon." She hoped her attitude wouldn't cause the stranger to just leave her there. She blamed it on the heat.
  15. And sure enough, the guards were making rounds nearby, which startled Ghriin. She'd pin pointed the plug, however, and kept to the ground to stay out of sight. "If this lock is mechanical, I'll only take a couple seconds. If it's electronic, I'll take 30 at most. Hold on, Squiddy." She took a braided tail from her pocket and plunged the tip into a slot in the top. "Jhe'Faris" she cursed in surprise. The lock was electronic! "Alright, I'm gonna need 30 seconds. Hold on."


    "Well, that's not too complex."

    a: X - incorrect
    A: X - correct area, character within 15 alphanumeric characters, after
    O: X - correct area, character within 5 alphanumeric characters, before
    L: O - correct

    "Got it." The guards seem to have passed, their rounds not going in the Detention Block. She withdrew her pick and found the handle, pulling it back and looking in. "Hey, Squiddy Head. You the Captain? C'mon, let's get you outta there." She offered her hand in to help the likely dizzy squiddy head out.
  16. Zain was board yet again. Sitting in his cell with nothing to do wasn't exactly productive. He had already read all the book on the shelves and why bother working out? He had access to the gym aboard the ship. Luckily one of his friends was walking by doing his rounds. "Hay," Zain said to the guard. "Can I head out to the social area? One of the new guys decided to flex his new power." He sounded slightly annoyed when talking about the new guys. They really didn't know anything at all. His buddy opened the cell door and said "Let me walk you down, the new guys have been causing a lot of trouble."

    They walked down with few words spoken as they went. It wasn't that they didn't like to talk it was just that they had already talked about everything they could. Nothing interesting ever happened on the ship. The only new news was the cannibal freak ate another guard. When they got there the guard waved Zain off with a sloppy salute that was really more of gust a gesture saying good by than anything else and soon enough Zain found himself mostly alone with a couple other inmates sitting around.

    Zain sat next to Juni, or at least that was what the guards called her. She was a large chested wolf girl that was always being watched and locked away. It was a wounder why she was outside of her cell, surly the guards would know that she was a high threat. "Hello. How are you this fine day?" He said lazily as he sat back and got comfortable.
  17. Boredom followed his meal. He hadn't gotten very lucky with the human guard; only about half of what was on him was any good, and he already ate half of that. It seemed that more and more of Condemn's guards were human. It was as if whoever ran this place knew they couldn't control the psychopaths, and chose the most expendable race to guard them. If only they'd asked Lactra; he would've recommended the tastiest.

    He stared down at the body. The blood had already dried up on the floor. It added a lovely splash of color to his white-walled room. He didn't much care for raw meat. He preferred cooked, and more so cooked alive. But his cell wasn't exactly equipped with a stove, and his stomach could successfully digest raw meat, so there was no problem.

    Back to his boredom. He had nothing to do. He wasn't even allowed to have a book, because some papers stiffened in water. Best not to give him an Arplaxian cookbook only so he could drop it in the toilet and have a thousand stone-hard pages to play with. His "bed" was just a thin cot built into the floor, impossible to move. He wasn't even allowed a pillow because they thought he'd somehow hide something sharp in it.

    All these rules didn't protect that guard, though. They put him under so many precautions that they let their guard down. When he didn't make any moves, they stopped suspecting any. They likely weren't going to do that again for a long time. They'd doubled the guards outside his door. Now he had four armed enforcers to keep him company. The other guard that had been his escort back to his cell that day wasn't among them. He clearly didn't want anything to do with Lactra again.

    Lactra sat on his cot, eyeing his guards, chewing on the finger of one of their friends. The clear door was meant as protection for them, so they could see if he had anything on him, but it had become a source of entertainment for Lactra. It was like he had his own full-wall TV, where he could watch the guards fidget in disgust and fear. It was also a screen the other way, and he did enjoy putting on a show.
  18. Splice took a breath... a long, deep breath. Then sighed. Her mind would sometimes relax, for just a moment... but then turn back into an insane woman later. "Why am I here? How did they find it? It was secret!" Splice said, as her head dropped into her hands and tears fell out of her eyes. "I was doing the splicing to only help the world! Rid it from the evil!... But no. They lock me up in jail!"
    "Why don't you kill them? Why don't you find a way out?" A voice said to her.
    "Because I can't commit another 'crime'! They'll lock us up forever!" the other voice of herself said. ((OCC: When I use yellow and "golden rod" it is the insane weird voices.... the purple is actually her))
    "Coward... you make us as cowards!... stupid... fucking... goddamn coward! Just kill them! I'll help you, if you must be a coward!" "
    "You are evil! Evil! You make us evil! Stupid! Go away! Don't bother me!"
    "I can't 'go away'! I am attached to you!... forever!"
    "Leave me alone! Go away, both of you!" Splice shouted at the top of her lungs.
    Splice didn't hear another "voice" come out of her that wasn't her own. She was relived. Without them she was a sensible woman, not an insane woman. She arose from the metal bench she was sitting on and wiped away her tears. Relived for once, relived for now, relived till insanity overcame her.
  19. The captain looked up to see the Xeno girl from dinning hall, the one in the center of attention. She had put her on the "maybe" list, but after seeing her crack that lock she was bumped up to the "must have" list. 'You can never go wrong with a good slicer,' Madel thought with a smile as she took the small girls hand. 'A small thing isn't she?' But Madel knew that lithe was good in a lot of cases.

    "Thanks for the hand babe," she said as collected as she could, though her stress and weariness from the sauna was showing. "I owe you one." Madel straightened up and brushed herself off, and with her sleeve swept away the sweat. "Fucking hot in there..." She let out a large sigh and then remembered the guards. 'Idiot.' Seems that Madel had gotten clumsy.

    Madel wasn't exactly plotting an escape plan, so the next move had to be improvised. "What now? Before they notice!" she whispered harshly. A second before Madel acted she had to wonder, 'why in the world is she helping me?' Obviously she would want something in return afterwords. 'I wonder what her price is...' But there wasn't time to ask, only to act. An idea popped in her head that she had to disregard. 'Pushing her in won't save me.' But it would have been fun.

    "Come, doll," she ordered with a tug of the girl's arm, pulling her towards the exit, which led to a cell block. If they were fast enough the guards would never notice their swift exit.

    Out the door and that was that. "Almost sadly easy," she snickered. "But better not linger. Where to?"
  20. When the auburn-haired man sat down and greeted her, he not only surprised the guards, but Juni as well. She had watched him approach, but was taken aback he actually started talking to her. Her tall ears flicked and she ever so slightly tilted her head. Knowing better, she didn’t look around to see if he were speaking with someone else. He was either pulling an angle, or this was going to be easier than she thought. From the looks of him, he was a convict, and a very friendly one for that matter. The guards had their eyes on her like hawks watching a kitten as she fell into one of the chairs adjacent from the male. She crossed her legs and allowed a creeping smirk to pull the edges of her mouth. His choice of words forced a small chuckle, ‘…this fine day, huh?’

    “Haven't been out here yet. So, nothing much, just shooting the breeze,” There was hint of purr to her tone, but she lacked the strong notable accent of her kind—after all, the beast had been raised among humans, “I’ll ask you the same thing. You seem rather…” Her eyes, riddled with cynical disdain, swept the room, “…comfortable.”