Cassandra Muninn; unlucky as hell.
@Red Thunder @CloudyBlueDay @HerziQuerzi @therestofulosers



’Octavia!’

Cassia teetered on the precipice of sleep and wakefulness, with something unconscious - subconscious - callously begging for quiet. She awoke with a dull ache, and some mixture of relief and disappointment. Alive but imprisoned, having found slumber in a wholly unfamiliar place. Not to mention, her shoulder hurt like all holy hell.

She fumbled with her new gown, barely managing to cast aside her disgust at having lost her outfit; the hospital rags weren’t even all-black. Sliding fabric away at the shoulder revealed a scar, shaped like the crescent moon. Someone had been using her as a canvas. How unseemly. Cassia gave brief thought to all the various reasons the scar was there, all the myriad, creepy artifacts of sci-fi that may have made their way into her body; nano-bots, or perhaps it was super-AIDs. Unlucky.

The thought of the Irish boy mercifully deaded the thought of ‘super-AIDs’. Patrick… where was Patrick?

It was an odd mercy on the lab coat’s part, that Cassia did not have to look far from her cage. The lad was in the cell across from hers - blissfully not-dead. Cassia felt a joy there, a flickering joy, and a temptation to call his name she suppressed so quickly that it made her own throat and stomach churn. There was not much to celebrate after all, and Cassia didn’t exactly fulfill the wishes of the boy’s mother. She elected quiet, as far as Patrick was concerned.

Which left only her cell-companion, the exotic-looking sort. Or at least, about as exotic one could look in a hospital gown.

“I’m Cassia, and God decided to fuck me about as hard as He probably decided to fuck you.” She allowed herself a smile of a dazed, sickly giddiness. “Be nice to me and I’ll probably be nice to you.”
 
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h a n g || d a o

Hang awoke to soft lights and sheets numbering probably on 500 count. She was so used to her Egyptian cotton 1200 thread that probably this sudden and irrespective breach of expectations had awoken her. Gently, softly, she reentered the world of the woken, and her eyes flickered open to glance around her. White cabinets, garish bed spreads, and "privacy" curtains clued her in toward her destination: some kind of infirmary.

Who were the bastards that did this to her, and who's head was she going to put on her silver plate?

She threw off the sheets in a flurry of barely concealed anger, her body still sore after her [strike]transformation[/strike] incident. She still remembered the sudden drowsiness that had overtaken her, the inexorable heaviness rivaled only by her uncle's body. The thought fanned the rage as she rearranged her ripped clothes (this sweatsuit had been 1300 dollars -- someone was definitely going to pay) into something that revealed only a little less than what she had previously been wearing. With a frustrated huff, she pulled tight the sleeves of her suit jacket over her petite chest and stalked out of her portion of the infirmary.

On a war path, she quickly walked towards the nearest door from which she could hear voices. The minute she got her phone back and called up Uncle, people were going to end up gutted, one way or another. Gutting somebody, chin to crotch-- the sudden feeling of animalistic ecstasy at the thought, rubbing against the inside of her ribcage like a cat-- She tamped the feeling down, trying to shake the urge that took her.

With perhaps more force than necessary, she threw open the door to the room with the arguers, and without preamble, she said loudly, "Okay, someone is about to explain why I'm here right now, before I wring you for every single dime you're worth."

@CloudyBlueDay
 
Cell's Bells
- a collaboration between @Red Thunder & @Eru -

His jacket was missing.

It was a strange thought to have, given the circumstances. The thin cloth of the hospital gown did little to isolate his shivering skin from the cold atmosphere, never mind the chilled surface of the floor upon which he lay. Patrick's eyes remained closed, even as consciousness returned, as if he was refusing to acknowledge the utterly strange environment he was most certainly in. He shifted, trying to determine whether he could move. His body ached, but it responded, even if his left shoulder felt minorly strained from the fall onto the rooftop.

The echo of the girl's screams still rang in his ears, and finally he opened his eyes, trying to figure what the hell was happening.

"Shite," Paddy muttered to no one in general. Bars. Dimly lit room. It was like a bad spy movie. Only this was real. Or as real as it could be, given the magic powers.


The ice was cold. Evan felt it on his face, his cheeks, his arms and legs. He could still see their faces; his captor, the redhead, and the scientist. But... they weren't there any longer. And apparently, neither was he.

With a groan, Evan stirred on the icy cell floor. His head lolled over and he rolled to face the ceiling, his limbs sore but none the worse for wear. If he'd been hurt in transport, it wasn't showing any longer. Evan lifted his head up slightly, blinking and rubbing his eyes. This place... it was cold, dimly lit, and nearly empty. Looking down at himself, Evan realized he was now wearing some sort of thin sheet. It reminded him of the hospital gowns, the ones he'd seen when... when it happened. Evan shook his head, trying to return to the present. There were noises, he was beginning to hear as he fully awoke. Eerie noises, that sounded strangely far away. And then, a noise came that was much closer.

"Shite."
Startled, Evan flipped over to face the noise, instinctively crawling a pace or two back. But the source of the word didn't appear hostile. Not yet, at least.

Evan saw a short-haired boy with a sharp face, in a hospital gown identical to his own, lying upon the floor nearby. Behind him, bars. Vertical bars, the kind you'd find in a prison. Was that what this was? A prison? That was worrying. The momentary adrenaline used up, Evan sighed a bit and lowered his guard, studying the boy on the ground again. He looked close to Evan's own age. And his eyes were now open, Evan saw with a start. He tensed up, but made no motion. Instead, he tried to speak.

"Who... are you."


Patrick fairly jumped, leaping to his feet with athletic dexterity only somewhat slowed by the soreness of his body. Or maybe it was the after effects of that dart. Damn; where was he? Or they, he supposed. He eyed the other suspiciously, but his questioning gaze didn't last long. Partially because Paddy quickly realized that any fellow...well, prisoner, he supposed, was unlikely to attack him for no purpose. But mostly because the action of jumping up had twinged his sprained shoulder. Patrick hissed in pain, holding it with his other hand.

"Patrick," he replied, unintentionally curt because of the pain. He nodded to his companion. "Guess yer in tah same damn barrel as I, I kin. Lab coated bastards."

Evan nodded slowly, rising to his feet as well. Again, still a bit sore, but nothing unbearable. However, his cellmate looked to be hurting rather badly.

"Yeah," Evan replied to Patrick, straightening himself up. "They... they took me. I couldn't get away." Though 'they' weren't here anymore, there was a rather sombering atmosphere around the entire place. Were there other cells here? And was the scientist nearby? How many others had they capture? Evan stopped talking, placing his hands to his forehead. After a brief moment, he stepped forward a pace, lowering his hands and extending his left one a bit. "I'm Evan. I'm... not doing great right now... sorry." It was a bit of an understatement.

"Yeah." the Irishman returned the handshake, wincing a bit at the twinge removing his hand from his shoulder sent. "Prob'ly true for tha' poor lass what just got took off, too. Tain't none of us doin' too well, mate."

Grunting, he turned to the bars, staring through them, seeking some answer as to where he and his companion in misery where. Yet the hallway was as nondescript as nondescript got. He sighed, letting his head rest against the bars. There was, it looked, at least some few others in much a similar way as them, though there seemed little point to Patrick to getting their attention when both he and Evan were trap-

"I dinnae wanna stick 'round this ol' place." His eyes narrowed in mischie. "Yah care tah leave?"

"Lass? There was a girl who was taken?" Evan quietly wondered if it was one of the three who he'd heard of before. Taking a step forward, Evan stood at the bars as well, looking out between the gaps. Across the way, at some distance, two figures could be made out in the dim light, though Evan recognized neither. To their right, and to their left, nothing clear could be seen at all. He rubbed his eyes and wondered if he was going blind. The cold air, combined with an absence of furnishings or soft surfaces, contributed to the eerie sounds that echoed among the cell walls. Was... was that someone crying? There was no way to be sure.

Patrick spoke up, and Evan listened. "Leave? How do you plan to do that?" His glance strayed up to Patrick's injured shoulder. He seemed to be in pain, and as much as Evan disliked it, he was 'between a rock and a hard place', so to speak. A little bit like that won't matter.
"Hold up. I think you're going to need that shoulder." Evan quickly stepped closer, pressing the palm of his hand to Patrick's shoulder and pressing down. But nothing happened.


Patrick's eyebrows raised appreciably at Evan's offer. He had definitely not expected to find more ... metahumans, he supposed people with powers could be called, though it certainly made sense, given the determined pursuit the lab coats had given Cassia and him.

Cassia. Shite. Wonder where tha' lass is.

But that was a concern for later. It Evan did have a power, one he assumed was meant to heal him, it wasn't working. Patrick frowned.
"Seems tah no' wanna work for yah." Hm. Did that mean-? Focusing, he glanced to a space just outside their cell. But, though he conducted his mind in the same way as he had several times before, no Gate appeared. Sighing defeatedly, he gave Evan a smile. "Nor mine for me. Grea'. Thanks for tha try, though. I kin we arenae leaving for a bit."


The pain wasn't flowing. Confused, Evan released his grip on Patrick's shoulder and stared in defeat. Had he lost his powers?
Patrick seemed to focus oddly for a moment, but it seemed he, too, couldn't -- wait, too!?
Of course! Evan nearly fell over at the realization. He wasn't the only one to have such strange powers. The girls from before had proven that, and now Patrick here seemed to have something strange as well. What did this mean...?
Evan looked up at Patrick in a new light. If Patrick had powers as well, then they were definitely both set against their captors.

"There has to be a way out of here," Evan stated softly, peering out again at the dim cells across from theirs.
Could he hear, somewhere nearby, a girl crying?

"Is anyone out there?" Evan called hoarsely.
"Willow?"


Patrick leaned against the bars, eyeing his cellmate. He had some power or other. Apparently Evan did, too. Cassia certainly had.

The thought of her caused him worry. The begger had seemed like she could manage the streets just fine, and escape from the damn coats should have been a piece of cake for her.

...

Right?

Evan's plea to the hallway, calling the treeish name, made Paddy wonder whether his own friend had been similarly captured. He could ask, just as Evan had, presenting her name to the open air. But he wasn't sure which he wanted more: her freedom, or a familiar face.

"Aye. Or Cass." Best to build on his cellmate's own inquest. "Yah there, lass? Could do wi'h a bi' of righteous encouragement abou' now."

 
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Reactions: Elle Joyner
In the Infirmary
Collab between @Sairento, @Radio Jelly, and @Joan

Alex…well, he'd expected worse. Burnt to a crisp perhaps,or locked in a cell. Not being strapped to a hospital bed really wasn't what he expected. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut as he heard someone shouting. "So loud," he mumbled, glaring at where the shouting was coming from as he took a step off the bed.

Somewhere to the right of Alex, obscured by the thin bed curtains, Austin was beginning to come to. The boy was startled awake by a sudden, suffocating feeling, and could hardly stop himself from lurching forward into a violent coughing fit as he caught his own breath. He fought the compulsion to itch his dry eyes while he took an account of his person, and his immediate surroundings. To his great surprise, he found himself much the same as he had been before; in fact, he found after a close rinspection that every accessory down to his tarnished wristwatch was in place.

Austin pulled himself off of the bed after a momentary, yet belabored, effort. With some mixture of confusion and relief, he hobbled beyond the curtain of his bed area, his eyes wildly scanning the hospitable surroundings for telltale signs of deception. To his great surprise, he couldn't spot a single camera, false wall, or out-of-place decoration. Wherever he was, it wasn't where he was expecting to be.

To Austin's left, he could now see his mystery neighbor. The sudden realization that he wasn't alone was enough to right his attention once more, as well as prompt Austin to take a step in the opposite direction. Though he kept his gaze fixed on the other boy, he quickly slipped both hands into his blackened hoodie, and instinctively slouched on his heels.

"H-hey," Austin gave a small wave. "You wouldn't... I mean, you don't know how we got here," The boy coughed a couple more times into the crook of his shoulder. "R-right?"

Joan was the next one up, her eyes opening slowly and painfully. She squinted at first, the gentle lights of the infirmary still a bit much for her smoke-ravaged eyes. As she sat up, she discovered that minor burns on her arms and hands had been treated, although her scorched clothing was still the same. Considering the last thing she remembered, she decided that Archer's team had gotten to them before the fire had, and she had just poked her head out of the curtains surrounding her bed when an angry girl stormed past and Joan pulled sharply back.

Wait...I remember her. Wasn't she the girl who turned into some kind of monster thing and attacked the fire...? New voices to her right drew her head out again, and she quickly recognized the boy Archer had taken a phone from. The other guy took a little longer, but she remembered him being with one of Archer's teammates right before it all went to shit. All of the people I've seen here so far were in the food court when the fire happened, and they have some association with Archer's crew or have displayed obvious powers...

"I think I might know how I got here, at least." She slipped off the bed and stood up, keeping a few steps away from the two boys. "You guys remember how there was kind of a team of people with superpowers...?"

"You mean the rude girl and the shit who stole my phone?" Alex growled, sighing as he tried to cut back with his hostile tone. He was in an unknown location, with unknown people for an unknown reason. What he could do was make sure at least one of those things became 'known', and talk to the other people. He then turned slightly to face the boy who'd spoke to him first. "No, I do not know how we got here. I don't think any of us here do, unless its an incredibly elaborate act on someone's part. Which I doubt," he said.

"That being said, I am very interested in where and why we are here, as well as who brought us here," he said, stepping off the bed as well, glancing around the room with a small scowl. "And where they took my computer."

Austin suppressed a small smile, and--more to himself than anyone else--replied under his breath. "You took a computer to the mall? Wh-why? D-did you just, like, buy it there or something? Sucks to lose a new computer..." With a start, Austin instinctively shoved his hands into his pockets where he found his paperclip wallet still in place. Despite being broke, it gave him some comfort to know with complete certainty that whoever had taken them, they truly hadn't taken advantage of the victims while they were out. Austin took a couple steps towards the door.

Austin looked over his shoulder at his new acquaintances and gestured to the door at the far right. He fought the urge to avoid eye contact with the strangers, and his voice came out a little louder, though definitively more hoarse.

"I-I think we ought to figure out where we are, but..." Austin's eyes flickered to the middle of the wall where he believed the sounds of conversation to be coming from the loudest. "I don't really want to jump into whatever's going on over there until I do." The boy coughed several times into the crook of his arm, before continuing. "I t-think it could be smart to go in the other direction for now," After a moment's pause, he quickly added, "Unless you guys have a better plan?"

"No, wait, I really do think I know how I got here," is what Joan wanted to say, but the angry boy with the sunglasses kept going, followed shortly by the other boy suggesting they go through the door on the far right end of the hall. She hesitated briefly before opting not to say anything more about that, since sunglasses-kid was obviously upset with Archer’s team, and he may not take kindly to the idea that they had brought them here. That was a can of worms she did not want to open up, especially since she wasn’t even 100% sure yet that she was right.

She did, however, object somewhat to the idea of just staying away from the arguing people until the argument was resolved.

"Um...I do think we should at least look in past the monster lady and see who’s arguing, at least? We might recognize somebody, and if we do, they can tell us where we are, right? And if not, we can just look through that door and see if there’s anything important there." She shrugged slightly before adding, "Though, if you guys don’t want to do that, that’s fine too. I’ll just follow your lead, I guess."

Alex took a deep breath and nodded once. "I agree with her. Lets peek at least. We can learn lots."

"…like if the phone stealing shit is around."

Though he didn't say the latter half. He sure did think it though.
 
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Hedieh Redding // Millennium City(?)

"I try to be nice to everyone," Hedieh said idly in response to the other woman as she scratched at her new crescent moon scar. The setting and recent dragging away of the green hair girl had left her even more subdued than normal, and she was folded up against the back wall of the cage.

How long have I been out for this to already be scarred? Hedieh wondered as her nail briefly caught and threatened to rip skin before slipping. She blinked and pulled her hand away, embarrasment over the idea of drawing blood in front of others overpowering the urge to pick at the imperfection.

A few brief seconds inspection didn't reveal anything too noteworthy about her fellow cellmate. Roughly same age, roughly same height. Pale it seemed, but in the dim light it was hard to tell for sure. Before she had spoken Hedieh hadn't even been sure of sex. She rubbed at her eyes with thumb and forefinger, using the motion to hide a grimace. The scientists had taken her contacts alongside her clothes, and while she could still see, nothing had any sharp edges. It was giving her a mild - but growing - ache in the back of her eyes.

She tried not to squint as she looked as Cassia, in case it came across as rude. The ache grew. "I'm Hedieh," she closed her eyes and thought for a moment. "Same scar, shared cage, woke up around the same time. You get weird powers in the past two weeks or so? Can't use them now?"
 
Cell Block Tango
Collab with @Elle Joyner & @CloudyBlueDay

Tears were a new thing for Dakota… and she found rather effectively upon waking, that she didn't enjoy them. She had cried before, of course… once when her grandmother had passed and again when she had nearly found herself smashed between an SUV and the wall of Kohl's. But these tears felt different. They were relentless, and cold and made her stomach twist into knots that seemed determined to revisit her digested meals from the last six months. She wasn't sad. She was terrified, and fear wasn't something she could chase away with a smile and a laugh.

Pacing back and forth, she rubbed her shoulder, where only a few seconds prior she had discovered the burn mark. In her brief period of testing her abilities, she had discovered that fire was one of those exceptions to the rule. Whatever kept her from injuries, fire didn't play along and it seemed, whether by accident or some ungodly omniscience, her captors knew this.

Captors. Even the word felt wrong. It shook her, down to the soles of her bright pink sneak--

And they had taken her shoes, too. It wasn't a fact that should have mattered. They were just shoes… just material. Yet the violation roiled deeply, and another sob escaped as Dakota continued her unconscious pacing, a trapped animal, back and forth, back and forth..

The scream interrupted her tracking, and spinning, Dakota moved to the edge of her cell, fingers gripping the bars as she pressed closer to the metal rods, straining to see down to the other cages.

“Might as well get comfortable,” Crow murmured softly, her voice devoid of any emotion. “There’s nothing you can do for her, nothing you can do…”

In the back corner of their shared cage, Crow sat with her knees against her chest, eyes glued forward, unfocused and distant. Her instincts pleaded with her, urged the young woman to fight, to escape as she had done before…

But what was the point? SPME would find her again. And again and again. It didn't matter how far she ran, the SPME would always come looking for her.

“How’s your shoulder?” Crow asked suddenly, desperate to keep a grasp on reality. “It shouldn't hurt for much longer.”

Mason could only watch with wide eyes as the girl was dragged away screaming. Once she had disappeared behind the door, he finally noticed the rest of his cell mates. Dakota and Crow across from him. Crow looked terrifyingly small, and Dakota’s face was wet with tears.

Keeping his hand clasped over the part of his neck that stung, Mason stared at them with worry. “What happened?” He croaked, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded. There were plenty of other people in identical cells, all equally sullen. Just moments ago he had been driving them to freedom. Now.. now this.

“It’s all my fault…” Dakota whimpered, reaching up to brush her cheeks, blonde braids bouncing as she shook her head, “The diner… the coffee… If I hadn’t… I don’t even know how to stop it…” Looking back behind her, she sniffed, “I’m sorry, Crow.”

Rubbing her shoulder, she turned back to Mason, across the way. Everyone looked so miserable, so frightened…

“It still hurts. What.. what did they do?”

Choking back a sob, Crow shook her head repeatedly, biting down hard upon her bottom lip. Hard enough to draw blood. She hid her face as the air receded from her lungs and her chest caved in with the weight of the truth. They’ll never stop hunting me… hurting me… Never.

Her ears pricked at a familiar voice and shifting her head slightly, Crow gazed across the narrow strip of hall and into the cellblock in front of them. Mason. Clutching to his voice, Crow gathered herself as best she could and turned back to Dakota. Despite the haunting look in her eyes, she gave her friend a small sympathetic smile.

“It’s not your fault, Dakota. It never was. The blame is mine alone, despite what you think.” Her voice shook and broke through her soft speech, but there was a steadiness hidden somewhere within. A steadiness that came from experience.

“It’s a tracker.” She replied as she caught her breath, reaching over shoulder to touch her own scar. “I think it gives them other things too, but I-I can’t be sure. B-But listen Dakota, look please listen to me.” She crawled forward, almost desperately. “They’re going to hurt you. In more ways than you can imagine. But don’t let them break you.”

She jabbed her finger at Dakota, right over her heart. “Don’t let it go out. You either.” Crow pleaded, glancing between Mason and Dakota.

“I don’t understand.” Mason mumbled, staring at Crow and Dakota with a bewildered yet saddened look in his eye. “I was just driving. How did we get here?” Every word that spilled out of Crow’s mouth stung like a burn. She was so shaky, so scared. She was broken, and he felt himself breaking just looking at her.

Couldn’t I have saved them? He had tried so hard. This wasn’t fair. Dakota’s face was wet with tears and he found his knuckles whitening because he gripped the bars of the cell so tightly. He was so angry. At the lab coats, at the world, at himself. Why did she have to cry?

With a glance to Mason, she turned back from the bars, rubbing her cheeks dry as she crossed the cell. Dropping to her knees, Dakota shook her head and reaching out, gently grabbed Crow’s hand, “It’s okay. I… I don’t mind if it’s my fault. Just don’t cry, okay? They… they can’t hurt me. You saw, at the diner. You saw how it works. So… so I’ll be okay. And I’ll just… I’ll make sure that they don’t hurt you, either. I... Oh.”

Frowning, she trailed off, “...Do they work? Our powers? Do… do they work, here?”

“Only sometimes. And they don't work in these cages.” Crow replied. Her voice was so soft, as if she were a spectre in the wind. “They shot you with a tranq,” Crow said, leaning over to speak to Mason. “I-I think I passed out… and now… we’re here.”


“A tranq?” Mason echoed. His hand went up to his neck again. Then he went to his shoulder. He had no mark to speak of, and no tracker or burn. “I don’t have the scar,” Mason murmured. “It’s not your fault, Dakota.” He relinquished his grasp on the bars and stepped back, blinking away the tears brimming in his eyes. “It’s not any of our faults. It’s theirs.”

“We have to figure out how to get out of here.” He said with a sliver of confidence, clearing his throat and gazing at them both.

“...Maybe they made a mistake?” Dakota breathed, standing upright again, “Maybe… maybe if we tell them we’re not supposed to be here, they’ll let us go?” Her eyes traveled to the other cages, her lip twitching down into a frown, “...There’s so many.”

“There’s no getting out of here. I-I was lucky, last time. I doubt they’ll even give us a chance to be lucky…” Looking away and sucking in a desperate gulp of air, Crow shook her head slowly, defeatedly. “There’s no getting out.”

“We’ll find some way out!” Mason said, stress creeping into his voice. “We’re going to get out of here. We’re going to get out, Crow! You did it once and we’ll do it again.” He was panicking, desperate to make his words mean something. He didn’t believe what he was saying, but he was at least willing to say it. Mason squeezed his eyes shut, trying to access his powers, attempting to touch the stars. He found only nothingness.

With a sudden jolt, Mason kicked the bars of the cell with a shout.

“..You can’t lose hope, Crow.” Dakota murmured again, her voice smaller and smaller by the moment, “Mason’s right. If you got out once, you can do it again. Or… or maybe someone’ll find us. My parents, they’re both cops… They’re not just gonna forget I exist. And all these people here? They have people looking for them, too.”

At Mason’s outburst, she jumped with a small squeal, pulling back from the bars, further into herself, “...We can’t lose hope.” She repeated, her eyes filling up again.

“I… I have hope. Maybe not hope that we’ll manage to get outta’ here… B-but I know they’ve always wanted something from me. Wanted something from all of us… The one’s that are different. At least I know they won’t kill us… Outright.”

She was ashamed, even more so when Mason lashed out at the cage. Crow did all she could to ignore him, to keep it together. But the ringing cage metal brought flashbacks of the past, of the pain that never relented.

“I doubt cops can help us now, Dakota.” She replied, dragging in another breath. “I’m sure they’re looking though… SPME is just really good at covering their tracks.”

He very quickly regretted his kicking the cell. First, he was barefoot, making the notion extremely stupid and painful. Second, he instantly looked to see the tears in Dakota’s eyes well once more. He opened his mouth to murmur an endless apology, and found he did not have the right words. There was nothing to describe the sorriness he felt for the three of them, and all the rest here.

“Are they going to take us out of these cages?” He said hopelessly.

Moving to the other side of the cage, Dakota sank down, pulling her knees up to her chest as her chin dropped against them. She bit at the inside of her lip, desperate to hold back tears, considering what few options they had… if any.

“How did you escape last time?”

“Um,” Crow swallowed, her eyes darting off to the side of the cage. Through the bars she could see the silhouettes of other metas. Other futures, big and small, families that would spend years… lifetimes in mourning.

“I lost control.” Crow said after a moment. “My powers, t-they uh, they… Well I’m not sure really.” She still refused to make eye contact with Dakota or Mason. “I uh, I blew up the back half of the building they kept me in. One minute I was being escorted back to my room and then suddenly all hell broke loose. When I got free from the rubble I managed to find some boots in the backseat of an unlocked car. And then I ran. When I couldn’t run anymore I walked.

“And then I found him.” Crow said softly, guiltily. “And we went to Shelley’s together.”

Mason bit his lip during Crow’s talk. He hated to hear about her experience here, back in this dreaded place she had escaped. He hated it. He hated it! He knew it was his fault. If he had never hit her with his damn truck she never would’ve been back here.

He began to sweat uncomfortably just as she graced over the fact that Crow really hadn’t found him, but vice versa.

“I never got to eat my burger.” Mason blurted.

“Oh…” It was a sad exclamation, as she looked from Crow to Mason, shaking her head, “That… that sounds really scary.” But more than that, it sounded difficult… and if it had been that difficult for one of them… how would they all escape?

Her eyes fell for a moment, but snapped up again as Mason spoke, “...They’re the best.” She offered, and her eyes teared up again as she considered the possibility that she would never have another Shelley’s burger again.

“I haven’t had a burger in years,” Crow found herself saying, a hollow smile creeping across her face. “Suppose it woulda’ been nice to have one of Shelley’s before I got put back in here.”

And then it was gone, the smile, replaced by a crumbled, hopeless grimace. Crow couldn’t keep it up anymore.. the hopeful charade. It was too demanding for someone who had so little to begin with. After a while, when Dakota and Mason both stopped speaking, Crow rested her back against the cage bars and stared straight ahead. Waiting… Waiting for it to be her turn.
 
Within the Cells

The hushed murmurs of those in the cell made the room a little less frigid in atmosphere. The red-haired girl covered in bruises had sunken defeatedly to the floor of her now single person cell, eyes red and face a pure look of guilt. She looked up at the sound of her name being called, staring at Evan with a hurt look in her eyes.

“You know my name?” She croaked. rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Willow threw her head back against the cell bars, a clattering noise following in her wake. She buried her face in her hands. “I fucked up so bad.” She muttered.

Across the way, a boy with dirty black, tousled hair sat in the very back corner of the cell. He was hunched over, legs hugged to his chest, the flimsy hospital gown draped over him, entirely too large for his emaciated body. He was searingly thin, arms and legs like sticks, easy to snap. Despite his gangly features, a strange aura of darkness radiated around him. Something strange and unsettling resided within the boy.

He reached out. His hand was bruised and purple, and his fingers were long and seemed almost alien compared to his small palm. The fingernails were too long. Slowly, almost calculatingly, he dragged his fingernails across the bars of the now shared cell. A horrific screeching noise followed in it's wake, and he barely lifted his head while doing so.

"-PME needs to be eradicated..." Leo mumbled, almost inaudibly. With consciousness rearing it's blinding head, the young man groaned in pain as the world shifted back into focus. He felt worse than he ever had in his life.

His own eyes fought against him, refused to cooperate and raise, to show him what his half-numb body could feel. Attempting to lift his head, Leo regretted the action immediately and cried out once more. Everywhere... his entire body ached, throbbed with pain. What had happened? Where was he?

Forcing his eyes open with a jolt, Leo cringed at the assaulting sound. It took every ounce of strength he could muster to roll over onto his arm and glance around in panic. In the back of... Am I in a fucking cage?

"C-can you not do that?" Leo asked, his voice gravelly and raw. "W-here... Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter." Came the surprisingly childish, yet grim voice. The gnarled fingers reached the end of the cage bars and the screeching noise stopped. The figure's chin slowly raised, wisps of black hair parting to reveal a dirtied face. The boy's eyes were two different colors, one a startling green, and the other a soft, sea blue.

"Where did they find you? Millennium?" His eyes closed, and the tiniest of smiles graced his face, though it was not out of happiness. He began to hum under his breath. "Oh, it's been a long time since I've seen the place." He cooed, a bubble of laughter following his sentence as he leaned his head back and gazed up with closed eyes.

Inch by inch Leo dragged himself closer towards the cage wall. He slumped against its unyielding embrace with a thankful sigh. Forcing his mind to focus, he glanced back at the... kid... his cage-mate. The boy's voice was unsettling and everything about him gave off bad vibes... But... He was still a kid.

His breathing was rather labored, but he managed to catch his breath long enough to say, "Yeah, I-I guess. Don't really remember anything though. But yeah, Millennium's my home....

"H-hey kid, how long have you been in here? Anything I can call ya' other than 'kid'?"

The boy stewed over this question a little while. He let silence dance between them and then resumed his humming.”Oh, I don’t know.” He said lightly. “It all blends together, you know. The hours, the days..” He gave pause, resuming his unsettling stare towards Leo. “The months...” He licked his lips. “The years.”

“You can call me Aaron.” He croaked. “What can I call you?”

Years... He just said years.

"Well, as fucked up as our situation is Aaron, it's nice to meet ya'. Glad I uh," Leo swallowed. "G-Glad I didn't wake up alone. My name is Leo. Leo Cordova."

Leo did the mental equivalent of scratching his head -- not only was his arm too numb to move properly, but his neck was starting to throb. He wished he knew what was going on. Wished he didn't feel so fucking terrible. Wished he could help this poor kid get back to his family. If he didn't feel half-dead then maybe he could use his p-

What the hell Leo, you have powers now! Get yourself out of this mess.

But when he reached out he saw nothing. It was all darkness. Leo's heart fluttered, terror slinking into his bones. But just as the air rushed from his lungs, he realized something was out there. Pushing farther than he had before, Leo could see pinpricks of lights... energy... And if he focused on one he could feel a tug, like the tech was reaching out to him. Instead, they remained static, as if something hindered their release. His nose reddened slightly as he pushed again, only getting a little closer than before...

"What's wrong with my powers?" Leo asked frantically, wiping his nose and wincing simultaneously.

Something about this display seemed to catch Aaron’s attention. His eyes widened and he stared at Leo with a blank expression. “Your powers?” Aaron echoed. “Can you feel them?” His tone was hushed and stressed. He gazed about them as if someone was listening in. “Can you feel your powers?”

"Y-yeah," Leo replied, half-distracted as he tried to call for the energy once more. "But they're... Acting strange, like something weakened them. Probably just from me being knocked out..."

Leo continued to ramble softly, his hands shaking more each second.

"Don't worry... Once my powers are back up I should be able to get us out of here."

Aaron blinked. First, he grinned a toothy grin, smiling at Leo widely. Then, he began to laugh. He laughed to the point where it left him breathless, and frankly, terrifying. "Oh, you poor, poor thing." He wiped tears from his eyes, his fit of laughter having left him breathless. "You'll last maybe a week in here. Oh! It's been a while! It's been a long time! You might do me some good, but you won't... you won't last long at all. Ha! Hahaha!"

What the fuck is wrong with him? Leo thought to himself as unease and paranoia filtered through him. What did he mean? Why wouldn't he... last long?

"Uh yeah," Leo mumbled, barely making eye contact as he struggled to find a reply. "Y-yeah."

After all, what do you say to a kid who just told you you were going to die?

@Red Thunder @HerziQuerzi @Shizuochan @Elle Joyner @rissa @Eru
⌽​
Within the Base

“I wasn’t being careless.”

“Oh, right. Running off and locking yourself in the security room with a girl.”

“And what’d you do? Hang around a fire beast?”

“When the hell are you going to grow up, Jasper?”

“That’s not my name anymore.”

“I think splitting yourself in two isn’t gonna change what happened.”

“I said I don’t want you to call me that anymore, Koa!”

“You can’t keep hiding! You can’t keep running away from your problems! You’re gonna get yourself —“

The door swung open and Hang’s shrill voice stopped the arguers in their tracks. Makoa and Archer stood poised and facing each other, faces red as if in the heat of battle. Archer still seemed considerably burnt, but much less than he had been at the mall. His nose was particularly red. The room was fairly small, and occupied by a single bed, a dresser, and a few simple decorations. The dresser was littered with photos and the room seemed personalized in small but comforting touches.

They both seemed stunned at the intrusion. Makoa turned to share a look with Archer, mouth opening in attempt to form a response, but he did not return it. His brows were pulled together in anger and he gritted his teeth together. With a sudden gust of wind, Archer disappeared. He blew past all those that piled up behind Hang, and there was no sign of him. The door beside the one he and Makoa had come out of opened and shut so fast it was almost like a ghost.

“Great.” Makoa hissed. “Listen, you need to calm down. We’ll explain everything.” She glanced behind Hang, eyeing all those that had also come from the infirmary. “The whole gang’s here.” She muttered. “Come with me.”

She closed the door behind her and headed up the corridor. “My name’s Makoa, if you didn’t already know. In a little bit I can get you guys some clothing to change into.” She eyed Hang warily. Then she scratched her chin. “I’d like to say we didn’t kidnap you, but.. We did it with good intentions.”

They entered a larger space after taking a right down the corridor. It seemed recreational, filled with couches and tables, and even a ping pong table and a foosball set. Despite the large room, it was only occupied by one person, a man lounging on the couch, feet and all. His curly black hair was tied into a small bun and his crystal blue eyes were very concentrated on one thing; a paddleball.

“Where’s Rudolph?” He sneered at Makoa without looking away from his sport, a grin plastered on his face. If Makoa’s eyes could have rolled right out of her head, they would’ve.

“Stormed off. Go easy on him, alright? Almost got burnt to a crisp.”

The man’s grin broadened. “I know. That’s why I’m calling him Rudolph.”

@Doctor Jax @Joan @Sairento @Radio Jelly

Within The SPME
I am giving you guys a little bit more time to discuss amongst yourselves and have your characters fully understand their surroundings! (And all those who inhibit it..)

Collab with Leo and Aaron between me and @rissa
Within the Infirmary
You are currently in the Common Room. (Gym was skipped.)

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The cell beside Dakota and Crow was occupied by a single person, hidden in the very corner, trembling beneath harsh lights. It was a frail and unsightly figure, a boy perhaps the same age as the two girls next to him. His pale complexion and undernourished body made it hard to tell. He had draped the thin hospital gown over his legs as to create some warmth, but it did not seem to help, as he was visibly shaking and shivering. Tufts of his light brown hair stood up as if static had kept them in place. He had buried his head down, and took up so little of the cage it was almost impossible to come up with a reason as to why he had one all to himself.

Dakota had spent the morning trapped between nearly crushing defeat, new and terrifying for the young girl who was so accustomed to seeing the world from such a positive perspective, and nearly manic optimism… a certainty that all would go well and their freedom would be achieved with swift authority.

It was exhausting, maddening even, and it was hardly surprising that she found herself at odds with her emotions. She spend a good ten minutes prowling back and forth across the cage floor, fighting tears, before with a huff, she dropped down, her face buried in her hands.

It took quite a bit out of the boy to force his head upwards so he could glance at the cell beside him. He had been listening to Dakota prowl about for the last ten minutes, but had found no energy to pull himself up. When she dropped down, hearing the tell tale signs of tears overflowing, he gazed at her with soft brown eyes, a look of terrible sadness. His face was a dirtied mess, accompanied by bruises and cuts, but his eyes still seemed innocent. That was, however, somewhat hidden beneath the stunning deep blue glow.

“Are you okay?” He murmured, voice scratchy and hoarse, knowing full well it was a question she could not answer, but hoping she would understand what he meant by it.

Looking up, Dakota frowned softly, brushing her eyes with the back of her hands as she sniffed softly. None of them were okay. Crow had made that abundantly clear… but she loathed the idea of giving up. More so, she hated the notion that there was nothing she could do to make the others feel better.

“...Just sad.” She answered finally, honestly, and lowered her hands, she peered through the bars to study the boy on the other side. Her eyes widened slightly, as she took in his appearance, coming to meet his gaze after a few seconds, “Oh… Oh! You… That…” Gesturing to her own eyes, a ghost of a smile brightened her expression, “...That’s really neat.”

He seemed to flinch at her sudden exclamation, wondering if he had scared her. But he saw the hint of a smile and returned it, almost thrilled by the fact that she found it intriguing. “Oh.. I.. th-thank you.” He mumbled with a tiny smile that disappeared shortly after. “I’m sorry, about the sad part. It’s not..” His brow furrowed and he looked away. “It’s not.. easy in here, I know.”

“...It’s not your fault.” She replied softly, worrying at the edge of her lip, “And I shouldn’t complain. It’s been what… a few hours? I’m sure there’s people who have it much worse.” Twisting, she looked to the boy again, “How long has it been for you?”

He hesitated before answering. He seemed to recognize the innocence in her, and felt like the next words that would come out of his mouth could shatter her. But he didn’t want to be dishonest, either.

“Four months.” He whispered sullenly. “I think so, at least. I was leaving for college.” He looked away, rubbing at his eyes.

“...Oh…” She murmured, and her breath escaped swiftly, before she sucked in another, almost forcefully, “...I’m sorry. I… My friend Crow… She’s been here before, but she got out. Maybe we will, too. Maybe we all will?” Swallowing, blinking rapidly, she looked away, “I’m Dakota…”

“She’s the one who escaped?” He echoed with a look of surprise. “And they.. they caught her again.” He shrunk, looking defeated. “Maybe we all will.” He said with a sigh.

“My name’s Parker.” He felt awful, watching her try to deal with the severity of his sentence, when in fact, compared to the others here, he had on been in the SPME’s hands for a fraction of the time. “Don’t be sorry about it. It’s their fault.”

“Mason said that, too… But… but I don’t get it… I don’t understand what we did wrong. I even tried to keep it quiet. What I can do. Only… only reason anyone knows is because I messed up at the diner. I mean… I dunno that I messed up. I can’t help that it happened, I guess, but I think maybe that’s… that’s why they found us. Crow said it was her tracker, but they didn’t come for until after--” Glancing over, she smile dryly, “Sorry… I ramble.”

“What we did wrong was have these.. abilities.” Parker said bluntly,the most sure thing he had uttered so far. “It’s not our fault. We have these things and they want us for it. I don’t know how we get them. I didn’t even have them when they took me.” For the first time, he sounded mad, and sat up a little straighter at just the thought of it.

“...You… you didn’t have them?” Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Dakota straightened onto her knees so she could face his cage, studying him again, “...Then… how did they know?”

Solemnly, Parker looked forward, past the cafe bars and into the next, distant. “I don’t know.” He uttered, as if remembering a terrible moment in time. “I really don’t know.”

“How did you find out?” Sitting cross legged, she inched as close as she could, her hands gripping the bars so she could lean forward, “That you had them?”

He seemed to jump away from the bars the moment she touched them, almost anticipating it. He looked her up and down, and shook his head. “No,” he announced. “I can’t tell you. It’s not… it’s not good.”

Frowning, she sank back a little, “...Crow… Crow said they were gonna hurt us. It’s kinda weird for me to think about, cause I can’t… I mean… That’s sort of what I can do. Or I guess what I don’t do? I don’t get hurt… but I’m still scared. Is… is that what they did to you?” There was a softness in the question, not a prying, but an air of concern, her eyes roving over his injuries.

He stared at her incredulously. A power that allowed her not to get hurt? A part of him was so thankful she had gotten it. The other part of him knew it wouldn’t take long for them to find their way into her power.

“They forced it out of me.” He said, voice hushed, as if he didn’t want to believe it. “I don’t know how they do it. The pry at you, day and night. It doesn’t stop until you give them what they want you to give.”

“Be careful.” He whispered. “Be ready for whatever they’ll throw at you. You’re not as invincible as you think you are.”

“...I got hit by a car.” She mused, faintly, “I dunno what they can do that’s worse than that. But… but I believe you. That’s why I’m scared. I don’t want them to hurt the others, either though. So I’m gonna make sure they take me. I have to. For Crow and Mason and Levi… and… and everybody else. I can be strong. I think…”

He looked surprised once more, deep blue eyes staring at her with wonder. “Hit by a car, huh?” With some effort, he donned a smile that trembled the moment it arose. “M-maybe there is hope, then.”

“Yeah…” She continued, a little brighter, “Just smashed right into me… well… me and a wall. It was terrifying, but kinda cool. The poor lady who hit me, she was so upset. I think she thought I was a ghost. Just sort of happens… I dunno how.”

A strained laugh came out of him. “That poor lady,” He said, gazing at Dakota. “It’s amazing how the public really just… refuses to believe this isn't all made up, right? The comic books and the movies.. I can’t imagine how the world will react when.. we finally make ourselves known.”

“I still have a hard time believing it. I keep waiting to wake up, you know? Like I’m gonna just open my eyes one day and be back in my bed… and none of this will have happened. But I guess I don’t really want that, or I’d never have met Crow and Mason. They’re good people. Sad… but good.” Pausing, she looked away for a moment, leaning back on her hands with a small sigh, “...I keep thinking they’ll just come by and tell us they made a mistake. That we’re not supposed to be here. That they’ll let us go.”

At the mention of the two friends Dakota had made, Parker gazed beyond Dakota, at Crow, and then Mason. He studied them, carefully, before gazing back to her. “They’re not going to let any of us go.” He said. “Even if you didn’t have powers, even if you were never, ever going to have powers. They would never let you go.”

“...No… I guess that wouldn’t make much sense, would it?” Biting her cheek, she looked over at him again, “I mean… I guess at least I have good company, right?”

Parker blinked, redness coming to his cheeks, a welcome sense of color across his sickly pallor. “Oh,“ he mumbled, brows furrowed as he smiled once more. “Y-yeah, I guess so.” He gazed up at her, look softening as his eyes radiated their deep blue glow.

“Sorry…” She offered, with a small smile, as she noted the redness in his cheeks, “It’s just… Most people find me annoying, so I guess it’s not the worst thing in the world being locked up with at least four people who don’t… you know?”

“That’s… s-stupid.” He announced, looking a bit bothered. How she could find the light in this awful, horrible situation, Parker had no idea, but he hoped it would keep Dakota strong. “I don’t think you’re annoying.”

“I mean… I totally am.” She laughed, gently, with a shrug, “I talk way too much and I ask too many questions. And London says, he’s a friend of mine, he says that I have this wacky obsession with traditions. I guess I just like making things special. But I can see how it might make somebody crazy, you know? But I don’t mind if that makes me annoying, too. As long as someone feels good.”

“My mom would go crazy for decorations. Our house was always the brightest on the block.” He smiled fondly at the memory, but it was replaced with a frown. “I missed Christmas this year,” He mumbled. “And Thanksgiving, and Halloween.” He scratched his chin, blinking away wetness from his eyes. “I was going to make my siblings a costume.”

“Oh. Oh… no. Don’t cry… We’re gonna get out. We’re gonna find a way to do it, and then you’ll have next Christmas and Thanksgiving… and all the holidays.” Shaking her head, Dakota pushed forward again, and reaching through the bars, put her hand over his.

He had been a bit to distracted to notice Dakota reaching out through the bars, and only jumped when it was too late. Tiny sparks of blue electricity, similar almost to a static shock, passed between them until Parker yanked his hand away. “Sorrysorrysorry!” He announced, breaking into a coughing fit straight after. “Y-you shouldn’tve touched me!” He cried, holding the offending hand to his chest as if it would lash out at Dakota again.

Pulling her own hand back almost immediately, with a small yelp, Dakota cradled her palm. As the shock wore off, however, there was no fear or anger evident in her expression - but a sense of amazement, as she stared through the bars, “...Woah.” She breathed, “That was amazing. It’s okay… Just stung a little. Sorry, I… I have personal space issues, too, I guess. I could write a list… it’d probably be easier to keep track of.”

He seemed out of breath after pulling away so sharply, staring at her with wild eyes. How could she be amazed by it? Truthfully, he saw it as a curse. An inhuman part of him that someone had forced out, something that never should have been there but these people had made him to be. “D-don’t.. Don’t.. Write a list..” He huffed, posture finally relaxing in an exhausted heap. “Are you alright?” Smiling coyly, Dakota shook her head, “I was just kidding. Don’t think they’ll give me a pen and paper anyway… Probably against the rules here.” Sitting forward again, she held up her hand for him to see, “...Perfectly fine. You?”

He gave a small nod after seeing her unmarked hand. “I’m okay. It always takes a bit out of me.. Even the smallest of shocks, but..” He sighed. “I think powers tend to.. Fit people. And I don’t think this power fits me.”

“Or maybe you just haven’t figured it out yet? Could come in handy… right? Especially if your car ever breaks down.” Smiling, she pulled her hand back through the bars again, studying her palm for a moment, “That… that’s the first time I felt something like that in a long time. I guess Crow was right about it not working in the cages. Except…” Blinking, she looked to him again, “You… how did you?”

He chuckled lightly, moving his hand back down. “I, uh.. It’s not really.. I can’t really use my powers here. It’s like..” He looked away, trying to find a way to explain it. “It’s like a residual effect. I.. store electricity, so when they leave me in places that take it away, I still.. Have a little shock left.”

He gestured to the empty cell. “That’s why I’m alone.”

“Yeah… I can imagine that might make you a little bit of a difficult bunk mate.” Smiling, she leaned back against the bars of her own cell, “I was working at trying to figure out all that I can do. When I got hit… I realized something was different, so I started experimenting. Seeing what limits I had.” Rubbing her shoulder where the crescent mark lay, she frowned, suddenly, “...They know at least one. Cause they managed this.”

Parker opened his mouth to say he was sorry, but realized he’d already said that, more than once. He hated to see the crescent mark on her shoulder, the pain it must bring her. He remembered how much it hurt the first time. Parker pulled the collar of the hospital gown down on his shoulder to reveal a similar scar. This one had healed over time, but was clearly of the same nature.

“Up side… We all get matching scars. That's sort of cool, I guess.” Looking over to Parker again, Dakota smiled, “Annoyingly optimistic. There's one for the list.”

He laughed again, this time with a little bit more of a sad twinge. “I’m..” He wanted to tell her he thought these scars were hardly an upside, but he had the case of permanently glowing blue eyes to deal with over a stupid crescent shaped scar. “I told you not to make a list, didn’t I?” He brought up a hand and attempted to smoothen the tufts of his hair that stuck upright, but with a similar blue crackle of electricity, they stubbornly stayed in place.

“Made you laugh, though…” She said, with a slight shrug. It was no small victory, even if she had noted the sadness behind it, “That’s something, right?”

He turned to her and gazed, eyes searching as if trying to answer a question. “Yeah. I guess so.” He turned back away and sighed. “I think it’s been awhile since I laughed.”

“I’m sorry.” Dakota offered, looking over to him, “I know I keep saying it… but I am. I’m sorry you’ve been here so long. That you missed all your family stuff… I’m sorry that any of us are stuck here. It’s not right. None of it… But I’ll do what I can to… to make it a little better. Even it’s just… shutting up.” Smiling faintly, she turned away, “Whatever helps.”

“Don’t shut up.” Parker said, almost exasperated. “Please, don’t. I haven’t talked to someone in so long.” He was almost tired of her apologizing for her every piece of herself. He certainly sounded like it. “And don’t be sorry. I know you’ll figure it out.”

“Oh good. I’m really bad at it, actually. Being quiet.” She laughed softly, gently, before leaning her head back on the bars, “You said you had siblings? How many… What’re they like?”

“Three,” Parker murmured. “One older and two younger. My older sister’s in college.” His voice got quieter as he spoke, like it hurt to do so. “And a younger brother and sister. They’re twins. Annoying as hell, but I…” He swallowed. “I miss them a lot.”

“I have three, too. Jimmy, Laine and Fi… They’re all older. I was sort of a surprise. Mom and Dad thought they were done, but I guess not.” Her expression shifted, and she looked down at her hands, “...My parents always said it was a reminder that not everything can be planned out. They were both cops. Mom works at a grocery store, now. And dad… he does private security. I think they just got tired of being sad all the time.” Knotting her hands, she bit the edge of her lip, “I miss them, too. But we’re gonna see them again, Parker. I know it.”

He was silent this time, lips pursed. If he opened them, he was afraid more and more sadness would continue to spill out. He couldn’t allow himself to think about his siblings, his family. It hurt too much. He hated the thought that crept into his mind. The thought that they were all worried sick to them, that the twins had no Halloween costume perfected by their big brother, and an empty seat when his sister came home for the holidays.

“I hope so.” He whispered.

Unraveling her hands, Dakota reached through the cage bars again, but not far enough to touch him, fingertips hovering, “...I’m not gonna let them break me. And I’m gonna get us out. All of us. No matter what it takes. Cause you need to see your family again. I promise. Whatever it takes.”

Parker almost looked like he didn’t believe her, like he refused too. He’d been here so long and the others had been here for so much longer. He hardly believed there was a way, but Dakota was so hopeful. He seemed to reel back when Dakota reached out, gazing at her open hand as it seemed to poised to grasp him.

He put out his index finger and touched it to hers, the tiniest crackle of electricity being shared between them, as close as they would get.

With a smile, Dakota looked over to Parker, murmuring quietly, “...So cool.”
TAGS: Collab with Cloudy || @rissa, @CloudyBlueDay
@BearEnthusiast @EveryoneInDemCells
 
Cassandra Muninn; let's not talk too much.
@Red Thunder @Eru @CloudyBlueDay @HerziQuerzi @therestofulosers




“You look very foreboding, you know, all pressed up in the back like that.” Cassia dodged the inquiry for the moment, if only to keep the conversation at her pace. There was a confidence that came with that, a control in captivity. “The insane person in the breakout thriller who knows the way out of the prison island. Or is that wishful thinking? Do you have a key stuffed somewhere wildly uncomfortable?”

Hedieh was a scar-scratcher, which was understandable, even if the prospect seemed a little unsettling. Dead skin and all. Cassia offered a few more idle seconds of gazing, her mind running through the myriad combinations of ethnicities her cellmate might have been. She really did have quite the look. She’d look so very unique in black, or maybe that’s just my one-note fashion sense speaking.

“But, yeah, powers. I was blessed with the ability to get incredibly-.”

From beyond the grey of dim lights and idle conversation, she was interrupted by Patrick’s instantly recognizable intonation. A welcome interruption. There was a comfort there; even in the worst of times, his words had a strength to them. Some mix of stalwart rigidity and a taste for gallows humor. She held up a single finger, motioning that she’d get back to Hedieh.

“Righteous encouragement, huh?” Cassia raised her voice to match Patrick’s own, “This may shock you, but I couldn’t recite a single bible passage if I tried. But! If you get hungry, I’m sure God will forgive you for cannibalizing your cell-mate.”

For a moment, her ever-still porcelain visage betrayed a smile.

“Anyways, I could make, well - it’s like I could pull water from nothing. Which wasn’t so useful back then, but now I’m awfully thirsty and,” Cassia tilted her head back, pointing a finger at her open mouth, willing for a spout of water to satiate her. It did not come. “Well, things giveth and then, you know the rest.”

She turned her gaze away from Hedieh, and laid down to find cold respite. All things considered, not the worst surface she’d ever slept on. “Do you sing? Lullabies, hopefully. My plan’s to sleep captivity away until divine intervention occurs. Or doesn’t occur. One’s as likely as the other.”
 
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Joan Ardent || The Base/Unknown Location

As Joan peered around the angry Asian woman, the first thing she saw was Makoa’s face, and she felt herself cringing a bit and pulling back. I don’t recognize her, at least I don’t think so...guess I was wr- Then she spotted Archer, and her mouth opened slightly, forming a squashed o shape. Oh. So she’s gotta be- Suddenly Archer vanished again, and she barely had time to squeak out a "Wait!" before he was gone, the door they had nearly gone through slamming shut behind him.

Well...there goes the only person I even sorta know here. Great. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, she trailed after the rest of the crew following Makoa, glancing behind her as she did so. She was focusing on the snippets of the conversation she had heard between Makoa and Archer, trying to figure out what that told her, but something the other girl said caught her attention.

"I'd like to say we didn't kidnap you, but... We did it with good intentions."

Wait, what?


She turned her attention back to what Makoa was saying then, just as they entered some kind of rec room. What kind of group would have this kind of setup? A rec room, some kind of infirmary, and at least a couple other rooms we passed on the way here...What have we gotten into, anyway?

The guy with a bun and a paddleball spoke then, calling somebody "Rudolph". At first, Joan assumed it was just another name, but as the conversation went on, it became clear that he was talking about Archer. Joan's faint frown grew, slowly turning into a glare. That...that was awful! I mean, sure, he doesn't seem like the most careful person, and that seems to be why he got so burnt in the first place, but that's no reason to call him names and stupid shit like that!

There was a time when she would have said that out loud, but now was not that time, especially when she didn't know anything about the guy, or really about anyone here. Instead, she glared at him for a few moments before turning to face Makoa and asking quietly, "Did the sprinklers work?"
 
Beauty and the Beast

collab between @Doctor Jax and @CloudyBlueDay

Hang had found it almost amusing that the girl told her her name, as if she would remember it. If there was anything the Vietnamese heiress was about to do, it was forget this whole debacle and had back home. She could do with getting a massage and a bit of a spa day after all this. Nevertheless, she followed Makoa through the building towards what seemed to be a rec room where a boy with a paddle ball happened to be lounging on the couch.

After some banter between him and Makoa, Hang felt the hair on the back of her neck rise as she became more irritable.

She walked past Makoa and leaned her foot against the couch where the boy lay, leaning forward over him.

"Seriously, who the hell are you people, and where's the nearest phone?" she spat.

The boy glared at Hang, crystal blue eyes narrowing in her direction, seeming hardly intimidated by her authoritative stance. He put the paddle ball down and rolled his eyes. "No phones here, Princess. And do you really wanna hear it from me?" He sneered.

"If you'd maybe stop snarling for half a minute you could let our dear lord and savior Makoa over here take you to someone who would explain." He gestured to Makoa with a nod of his head, who fumed at his name calling. "If you'd just let me take you to our boss --" Makoa announced, hoping that her companion had not provoked too bad a reaction out of Hang.

The young woman straightened up, rather nonplussed by the black-haired paddleball player. She was no stranger to barbed comments, though it wasn't often that others bit back.

However, hearing that there was a "boss", Hang's head snapped to the girl and she asked, "Then what are we doing here?"[/hr]
 
Hedieh Redding // Some Cage, Somewhere

Hedieh ignored the question about singing. In her experience, trying to claim she couldn't sing only made people insist. 'I'm sure you're just being humble,' they might say, aggressively encouraging and optimistic. Or they'd abandon the encouraging and optimistic, and focus on the aggressive, eager to have something to laugh at to themselves. Better to just deflect the conversation.

"I could make myself stop existing," Hedieh said with a small smile, intentionally describing her powers in a misleading, extreme way. She waved a hand in front of her face. "Poof and gone. Or not. I'm not at peak performance right now; I think it's the ambiance."

Hedieh couldn't make out whoever Cassia had called out to across the way. Even when she squinted. The room was too dark, the lack of her contacts too damaging for her longsightedness. "What are the chances you'd know someone else in here?" Hedieh muttered. Technically to herself, but not bothering to lower her voice to where only she could hear it.
 
Austin was anxious about a lot of things, but he had never agreed with the old adage that the waiting was the worst part. In fact, he was rather fond of delays, breaks, and in-betweens so far as avoiding confrontation went. It was just his luck then that every other patient in the room seemed eager to go running towards the shouting match outside. He might've stayed--perhaps, should've stayed--but if this was some sort of test, or trick, he didn't want to face it alone.

His eyes flickered maddeningly in every direction, scouring the place for hidden cameras, false walls, or other tell-tale signs of deception. The walls may have been bare, but the place lacked the familiar, empty ambiance he had expected, and though he wasn't the least bit interested in staying any longer than necessary he was beginning to grow curious about the true nature of his captors.

Makoa

Austin recognized the voice before he entered the room, but as he did he also noticed the lithe Asian girl from earlier. A small wave of relief passed through him at the realization that she was saved after-all, though with the strength of her abilities Austin had hoped as much. As the last to enter, he only caught the tail end of Makoa's request, but dutifully followed the crowd as they walked out of the room.

“I’d like to say we didn’t kidnap you, but.. We did it with good intentions.”

The boy fought to stifle a smile, his eyes still tracing the halls and faces for any sign of malign intent. It may have been true that the kidnappers saved him from a fire, but the question of why remained and Austin suspected that, whatever their reasoning may have been, he wasn't going to like the answer.

The rec room was the first thing that suggested otherwise. As the hall opened into the wide venue, Austin was taken aback with how comfortable the whole thing seemed. The foosball table caught his eyes, and though he wasn't keen on spending more time than necessary in the complex, he figured he could make time for a game or two. The fingers on his left hand twitched a little as he fought back the nostalgic urge to rush across the way and try his hand at it.

Hang's outburst refocused his attention, and though he had tuned out Makoa's personal conversation, this was one he couldn't help but be interested in.

"Seriously, who the hell are you people, and where's the nearest phone?"

Austin's face paled some, as the venom in Hang's tone permeated the space. The anger in her stance and her eyes betrayed a ferocity in her nature that was befitting of her abilities. He should've expected it, and yet Austin couldn't help but remember Hang as the girl he found on the floor and not the monster he saw in the duel. From where he stood then, the juxtaposition was remarkable.

This girl was almost immolated and she's already yelling at the ones who dragged us out? ... yeesh.

The paddle-ball enthusiast bit back with a line that oozed of disinterest. For the second time, Austin bit back a grin from where he was standing, and though the whole conversation was no more than a couple of seconds, the boy couldn't help but feel rather awkward walking in the silence that followed. Unconsciously, Austin began to drift towards Hang as they walked, no doubt drawn to her conviction in finding answers. At the very least, he believed she'd be a good conversational battering ram should their captors be less than forthcoming.
 
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Alexander Summers - Unknown Base

Alexander, in fact, compared to most things, did care he'd been kidnapped. Why? Put simple, he really didn't need to be tangled up with this sort of thing. The less global attention he brought upon himself, the less likely his blackmailing and pickpocketing would be caught.

Being kidnapped definitely fell into the 'unneeded attention' type of situations.

The fact that the boy who'd stolen his phone disappeared didn't help with his mood either.

Glancing around the room, he stared unappreciatively at the foosball table. One of the banes of his peaceful existence; thickheaded idiots could spend hours playing on it, jeering at each other and no doubt getting drunk, disrupting any sense of peace and quiet he may be seeking.

"…at least you probably won't stay here long," he thought, making a slight turn to face the paddle-ball man again. Oh, if he could just reach over and snip the damn chord so he wouldn't have to listen to the incessant boinking…

Sadly, he had neither scissors nor the ability to cut anything without them.

So, being the very social animal he was, he stood by and glared. And, of course, asked where his laptop was. As soon as he got back his laptop (and perhaps his phone), he'd be well on his way back to Texas.
 
Roommates
a collab between @Eru and @Red Thunder


”...But! If you get hungry, I’m sure God will forgive you for cannibalizing your cell-mate.”

Patrick looked to Evan with a weary smile, half bemused and half exasperated.

“Seems yer nae long for teh world. Mah belly’s a migh’ empty at present.”

Cassia was, it seemed, as secured as he, and likely as powerless. Yes, he could see her now across the hallway; whatever drug the lab coats had dosed him with must be wearing off. It was good to hear her dry wit. In a way it only served to solidify in his mind the hopelessness of their position; their mutual sarcasm was just screaming in the dark. But in the dark, best to light a fire. If not an actual blaze for warmth, than a spark of companionship.

“Shite; seems like we’re all permanen’ guests.” Adjusting once again to lean against the bars as comfortably as he might, Paddy closed his eyes. “So what’s it yah do, Evan?”


Staring defeatedly at the red-haired girl across the way, who’d now sunk into a stupor of self-depreciation, Evan couldn’t help but feel he’d yet again… failed. His eyes closed, as his mind did, for a moment. Not again. Not again.

Patrick addressed him, and Evan stirred. “I -- I lose people, I guess.” He himself sunk back away from the cell bars, shrinking away from the light. It’s not for me. It can’t be. “But,” he murmured, “if it were possible to, I’d save them.” Evan glanced up, around the cell, and then at Patrick. “As long as we’re in here, though, I don’t think I’m able to do anything at all.”

“What is your power?” Curious in spite of the black cloud that now loomed once again over his mind, Evan asked Patrick this question. “Why did they take you?” He was beginning to make the connection -- nobody here was normal.


“Findin’ people, seemingly. Much as it is yers tah lose ‘em.” At Evan’s self deprecating remark, Paddy’s eyes had opened, and they held his cellmate in a solid empathetic gaze. It was kind. Pitying, in a way. But his voice gained a small edge; hearing Evan speak down on himself pissed the Irishman off. “Naught yah coulda done, mate. Hell, mah damn Gates couldnae keep Cassia safe, even when I took teh lass wi’ me. The damn labcoats knew how to get each of us.”

The thought still bothered him, and he rested his head back onto the bars with a thunk. He was certain he’d never seen the Coats before. Moreover, he’d done nothing to warrant interest that he could think of. And if he, a poor Irish kid living in the ghetto in Millennium City, couldn’t escape their notice, how could anyone else who was more visible expect to?

“I know of one other,” he finally continued. “Sounds like yah know of some more metahumans like us. How many yah figure there are?”

Metahumans. The word lingered in the air, the Irishman’s accent lending it even more of that otherworldly nature. Otherworldly? Hardly. They were part of this world, now. For better or... worse. Looking up again tentatively at Patrick, Evan realized something else. There were more. Of course.

“I… know of at least 3 more. They’re all probably here. Apart from that…”
Evan’s voice trailed off. His powers had manifested after the night of the falling stars. He didn’t know whether his strong connection to his sister had had anything to do with it. But, if so, maybe he wasn’t the only one here who had lost something. “Apart from that, there are probably many others. If they found us so quickly, they must be used to this.” Evan stood up slowly. “We need to get out. Before something more terrible happens.” His head turned in the direction of Willow’s cell. “But I’m certainly no help there. I… I’m a doctor, not an explosives expert.”

“Hell, I’m a rugby playeh,” came the reply, the wry tone matching the wry smile that pulled at Patrick’s lips. “An’ construction was da’s-“

He fell silent. The fate of his parents hadn’t even been considered; the time spent fleeing had occupied his attention, sparing no thought for them. But now that flight was impossible, now that events had slowed to the crawl of a prisoner’s pace, concern for them flooded his mind. Patrick’s expression grew dark, and his jaw began working as he chewed on the inside of his cheek in vain contemplation.
 
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The boyz are back in town

Collab with @CloudyBlueDay

Leo's mind buzzed with a static emptiness that was entirely too quiet and too loud. It could have been hours, days for all he knew; the pain in his limbs were fading into such a droll ache that it was all he could focus on. If he wasn't being melodramatic, he'd probably guess an hour... An hour since Aaron, the creepiest kid he ever met in his life told him he wasn't going to last long. That he had about a week left to live...

Stewing in a state that was neither here nor there, Leo felt his mind rouse as a voice somewhere off to his left elevated. It took a bit before his eyes fluttered open and he eyed the person within the cell next to him. It was probably rude... definitely rude to eavesdrop on their private conversation, but it comforted him to know he was not alone in this predicament.

He flinched when Mason kicked the cage, imagining just how bad a barefooted kick to these bars would feel. After awhile of snooping, the trio's conversation came to an end and waiting a little while after that, Leo leaned his head as close to the bars as he could. "Psst, hey!"

He had been pacing the cell aimlessly, ignoring the stinging in his foot after kicking it like the dumbass he was. He wondered what it meant that there was no scar on his shoulder yet; he wondered who these other people in the cells were. He wondered when someone was going to come, either to feed them or to check on them or to take another one of them away. He wondered what it meant to be here, and what it would mean when the hours turned to days and the days turned to weeks.

Psst, hey!

Mason's head turned, eyes big and staring at Leo. He opened his mouth to speak, but promptly closed it, taking another long moment to look the boy over. Something seemed strangely familiar. Especially the eyes.

"Do I know you?" Mason said slowly, cautiously.

Leo frowned softly, "You from Millennium?" He asked with a hopeful smile and a half-glance at Aaron. And then with a grimace, "By the way, how's your foot?"

“N-no, I—“ Mason stopped himself short, caught off guard by the question. “Oh.. my..” He glanced down, his foot throbbing and red. “Er.. great.”

He examined his neighbor again, eyes squinting in thought. What was so damn familiar? Mason held up both his hands so that when he turned towards Leo, he could only see his eyes.

“I know who you are,” a look of realization dawning upon Mason. His voice dropped to a hush whisper. “L30.”

"Wait..." Leo drawled out, trying his best to scoot closer to the wall of bars without jerking his limbs. "If you... How? Where are you from? Holy shit the broadcast... Oh fuck. How far did it go?! " Leo asked excitedly, his face animating while his voice dropped low like Mason's. "C'mon tell me the truth, what did you think of it?"

“When you broadcasted.. I was in Nevada.” Mason thought for a moment. “It was.. uh... it was terrifying as shit, dude.” A hollow, breathless laugh followed his sentence. “Maybe it went all over the country. I’m not sure.” Mason examined the boy again. “What’s your real name? I hope your parents didn’t call you L30.”

Nevada! My broadcast went all the way to Nevada!

Shock mingled with pride and despite feeling like utter shit, Leo allowed his face to break into a smile. He let himself laugh too, if only a small chuckle before answering Mason.

"Nah! My name is Leo, Leo Cordova." Extending his arm for a handshake, he continued. "What did your parents call you?"

Mason stared at Leo with an almost confused look. Something about the boy was infectious, and a twitch of a smile crept onto his face. "You, my good sir," Mason announced, feeling somewhat renewed, "are terrible at code names." He stared at Leo's open hand and slipped his own through the bars. "Mason, but when my mom's mad she does the whole.. Mason Marcus Zetith! Thing." He had inadvertently caused tears to swell in his eyes, and barely realized it until the end of his sentence. His mom. He missed her like hell, and would give anything just to even have her shout at him.

"S-sorry." He sniffed, and turned away.

"It's okay," Leo said softly, his own eyes welling with tears. "M-my mom had a penchant for shouting our names as well. Still can't figure out how she didn't mix up Leonidas Matias Henry with Michaela Astella Leigh a-and Sebastian Alejandro Filipe."

It was clear he was trying to ease the turmoil within Mason, even if it meant sharing his whole name, embarrassing as that was. Leaning against the bars once more, Leo swallowed the frog in his throat and continued. "We'll see 'em again though, I just know it."

"Heh.." Mason said, furiously rubbing the wetness from his eyes. "L-Leonidas, huh? Hah.. haha!" Mason's shoulders heaved with heavy laughter. "Sorry! Again! That's a... I've never heard of that name before. It's .. it's actually kinda cool. Sounds like.. some medieval protagonist."

Mason leaned his head back and swallowed, attempting to finally down the last of his tears and push them far away. "Yeah. I hope so." He announced breathlessly, offering Leo a lopsided smile. "You got siblings, huh? I kind of wish I wasn't an only child."

"It's a family relic, that's what it is. Belonged to some great-great-great-great grandfather on my mom's side." Leo said with a bitter sigh and equally bitter chuckle, settling back against the bars as comfortably as he could. The ache within him dulled, if by some insignificant amount as he and Mason spoke.

"Yeah... three of 'em. It's a blessing and a curse, though it'd probably be different if I wasn't the oldest, haha. I wish I was an only child sometimes, buuuut I guess that would kinda suck too. Who did you play and fight with growing up?"

"Uh," Mason murmured, thinking long and hard on that question. "Er.. my.. mom? I-I -- I don't know." Mason wouldn't say he had grown up sheltered, but he wasn't very outgoing. He had his best friend, Sam, but that was only in high school. And he'd... he'd left him just like he'd left his mom. As a child, he had the few typical school friends, but no one even somewhat like a sibling to him. "Now I kinda wish I had a sibling."

"I'm sorry man..." Leo said softly, not realizing the question could have been insensitive. "On the brightside, no one could ever blame shit on you." He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about his family and how worried they probably were. If Mason, someone from Nevada, could recognize him so easily, what would his parents think? Had they even seen the broadcast? Now that two Cordova’s were in SPME custody, would the rest of his family experience the same fate?

"Do you think... Ah nevermind, I can't even say it. Might jinx it..." With a groan that might have hid a sob, Leo covered his face with his hands, despite the fact it hurt to do so. Wiping stray tears after a moment or two, he shook his head and continued. "Anyways, that uh, that meteor shower. Did you get one of those in Nevada too? Scary shit, huh? Mind if I ask, uh, what kinda powers you ended up with?"

"Hah. I guess so." Mason murmured, gazing at Leo. He felt like Leo was hiding something, something on the tip of his tongue. "Oh, I, uh.." Mason shifted. "I wasn't in Nevada when the meteor shower hit. I'm from Oregon. I-It was just as scary there too." He forced out a laugh, but it was a strained one. "I... er.. it's sort of.. hard to explain. I can... find.. paths?" Mason coughed. "It's like... if I want to go somewhere, I know how to get there. And my eyes glow this bright blue and I just -- I don't know. It's weird."

"What about you? Tech stuff?"

"Your eyes glow?" Leo asked softly, mouth falling open from shock. "But - uh yeah, tech stuff. To be honest I'm not really sure what all I can do. Usually I just see these lights... Like little balls of energy, ya know? They let me do things... It's uh, not nearly as useful as yours of course, but I mean, it did help me with that broadcast."

"As useful as yours? You could probably take over the entire world. I can tell you where the nearest Taco Bell is," Mason scoffed. "I think your broadcast... I think what you did was right," His voice was filled with honesty, and he sat upwards, making sure Leo knew he meant it. "I really don't know much about this.. this whole new world I'm in, but.. I think what you did was important."

"Dude, you can like... Literally find anything in the world. That's freaking awesome."

Doing his best to ignore the sudden lump in his throat, Leo glanced over at Mason with a soft smile. "Th-Thank you for saying that. It may not.. seem like it or whatever, but.. that really means a lot to me."

And it truly did, even if he didn't have enough courage to explain why...

 
Within the Cells

The door in which Octavia had been dragged through opened. A man stepped out, thin glasses and short hair occupying his blank expression. He wore a lab coat and carried a clipboard, both of which were labeled in black, bold letters, SPME. Two men, large in build and well muscled, followed him out the door.

If there was any sound directed towards the leading man that entered, he did not flinch. He seemed almost like a robot, focused on one task and one alone. Nothing would distract him. He leafed through the papers on his clipboard and pushed his glasses up his nose. After walking up and down the hallway full of cages, taking a moment to gaze at every inhabitant, he pointed at one cell, sealing someone’s fate.

No sound came from his mouth. He stared at the scientist as terror, unlike he had ever felt before, gripped him. His brain was telling him to run. Every alarm in his body went off, run, fight, scream. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to do?

Mere seconds after the scientist made his choice, the two burly men burst forth. The cell door swung open and they reached in and grabbed their target.

“No, no! No, please! Please!” He flailed against the grasp and dug his heels into the ground to try and stop them, but there was no escape. The cell was slammed closed and the sound of metal on metal echoed throughout the empty space.

“Crow -- Crow! What are they gonna do to me? What are you gonna do to me!” Mason screamed. A large hand was placed over his mouth, muffling his cries. They pulled Mason through the doorway, and the scientist turned on his heel and followed them. The door shut and latched behind them.

“They’re just taking him to put his tracker in.” Willow said, standing up and rubbing her face. “Boo-hoo,” Announced Aaron, a giggle following. “Scared for nothing. It only goes downhill from here.” “Would you be quiet?” Parker hissed, a feeble attempt, but still worth something.

“So sorry. Do you think you could cry a little bit longer? Maybe your family will come running if they hear you whine enough.” Aaron sneered. Redness came into Parker’s face, a very welcome spark of color despite the circumstances. “M-maybe if you could drag your nails on the b-bars a little bit harder, they .. th-they would.. Forget it.” Parker huffed, his electric blue eyes flaring in color.

@Red Thunder @HerziQuerzi @Shizuochan @Elle Joyner @rissa @Eru
⌽​
Within the Base

Makoa seemed tense. With Hang’s accusation, she hesitated in a response. “The.. the sprinklers did work. You saved a lot of people. And you’re right,” She uttered, gazing at the others, wondering why they were all so quiet. “We’ll go now.” Makoa glanced at her couch-lounging companion, who wore an almost empty smile as he returned to his paddle ball.

“He’s busy yelling at Saph.” He announced. Makoa’s postured tightened. “Thanks for the help, Jace.” She hissed, and gestured to everyone else to follow her along.

They exited the large room through a door on the opposite side, entering a hallway that went two ways. One lead downward, littered with doors, all with numbers. Makoa took them up. She stopped at the first door, but did not knock.

“Darius?”

After a few moments, the door opened. A bearded man was behind it, and though he wore a frown there was something warm about his brown eyes. “Ah, Koa.” His voice was smooth. He looked behind Makoa, at the four people that she had brought with her. “Come in.”

The room was strangely homely despite looking like it was for business purposes. A large desk lay in the center of it, and drawers and other shelves littered the room, including stacked book cases. There were no windows. In fact, there had been no windows in any of the rooms they had passed, in any of the hallways, in any place at all.

Sapphire leaned against one of the shelves, looking as if she had just been grounded for a week. Her arms were crossed and her lips pulled into a grimace. When she caught sight of the group of people Makoa was bringing in, however, her expression softened.

“Oh.” Sapphire murmured, moving away from the shelf. “I should--” Darius held out a finger. “No, you’re staying. So is Makoa. You two were there, and you’ll aid me in the explanation.”

Once the room had been filled, Darius sat in the chair at his desk. “I know you all must be a little confused right now,” He said calmly. “My name is Darius Finch. This is my daughter, Sapphire. She lead the mission to rescue you from the North Star mall, along with her team of three others, Makoa, Archer, and Jace.

We are the Protectors. A group of individuals with superpowered abilities who fight to protect those like us. Those like you.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Currently, people like us are majorly unknown to the public. But we exist, and have existed for millennia. Forces out there know we exist too, and want to use these abilities for their own gain.”

He paused and stroked his stubble. Sapphire shifted, almost uncomfortably, gazing at Darius. “Your new powers are nothing to be ashamed of, but they make you valuable to greedy people. You must be educated; in how to use them, in how to understand who are your allies and who are your enemies. It is a dangerous world out there, and having powers alone is already an incredibly hard thing to control. The fire beast you encountered was a grave example of a metahuman - a person with abilities - losing total control. Devastating entire buildings, endangering countless lives. All I can do for you is teach you how to understand your powers, and to protect yourself from those who want to use you.”

@Doctor Jax @Joan @Sairento @Radio Jelly

yall
wot in tarnation
 
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Cassia had been content, lulling herself asleep to the sounds of Hedieh’s voice. Her companion hadn’t said much as far as singing went, but idle conversation was good enough - few things could more easily bore one to sleep. Cassia’s assumption of the girl’s power was some sort of invisibility, if somewhat philosophically worded. It was the last bit of conversation that Cassia latched unto. After all, the self-loathing always found opportunities to self-loathe.

“Chances are pretty high, assuming you messed up and dragged them down with you. You’re very lucky; can’t let anyone down if you don’t exist, I’d imagine.”

She let herself fade once more, cushioning her head against her right forearm, idly tapping away at steel with her left hand. A single rather ambiguous rendition of ‘Hot Cross Buns’ was all she managed before the lab coat burst in. Cassia took minimal joy in the fact that they arrived before they could wake her up, and the appropriate apprehension that someone’s day was about to turn a bit less than lackluster.

And then there was one less.

Idle assurance from a girl - some ‘tracker’ business. Some sort of half-crazed snarking from the grimy boy with the strange eyes. Some sort of half-crazed desperation from the other boy. Half-crazed and half-crazed made full-crazed. Maybe there’d be more crazy to go around. Cassia had remembered the last time she had been held captive, bound at-sea in an orange shipping crate. She had cried herself to near-madness in two minutes flat.

Maybe napping the days away in here wasn't such a good strategy.

She sat upright, regarding Hedieh again, “Hedieh. Maybe you should keep trying to use your power. The, what is it? The ‘Look-at-me!-but-most-certainly-don’t-because-I-don’t-exist-anymore’ thing? Maybe it’ll come back, if you flex the ‘muscle’ hard enough.

Girl said they took him away to put a tracker on him. That sounds like escape’s not outside the realm of possibility, yeah?”

Divine intervention was divine and all, but maybe you needed to put a little work in.

@CloudyBlueDay @HerziQuerzi
 
h a n g \\ d a o

Hang followed Makoa somewhat reluctantly, eying the halls and rooms. Something about them seemed... reminiscent to her. Each room seemed fairly normal, with the typical cheap furniture, light fixtures, the works. Somehow, though, Hang knew there was something she was missing. It felt like it was lingering just at the back of her mind, waiting somewhere for her to reach out and touch it. Think, moron. Why is this familiar to you?

Jerry Fisher. Uncle's yacht buddy managing a huge accounting firm, who was a doomsday prepper. He'd had an entire compound built underground that Hang had gone to when she was a teenager. That was what had struck her while she was in the compound, that no matter how cleverly disguised the compound was with placement of curtains, with the lights, with how they arranged the furniture, she could tell that she was still underground. She had run around causing havoc, looking into rooms, before Jerry said something about her mucking up his good carpets.

This place must be the same. She was somewhere underground. For some reason, that knowledge made her feel that much more uncomfortable with the situation. She wasn't dealing with just some kidnappers moonlighting, or with a rinky-dink organization. No, she was dealing with a real outfit. Underground bunkers were no joke.

Unbeknownst to her, her skin had begun to change color and texture, becoming raised, dark, and scaly like a crocodile's along the back and sides of her neck. Her eyes flashed cerulian, her pupils momentarily transforming into slits. Her heart rate climbed, but remembering what had happened back at the mall, she carefully took deep, long breaths. Calm down. Just... calm down. You're gonna--

Hurt people? Was that what she was worried about? For some reason, the thought was almost alien, an aching feeling.

She ignored it.

With that, she walked into the room and listened to this man -- Darius? Whatever -- and his spiel. Her eyes still seeming to flash blue, she stared at him suspiciously.

"Operative question then is when can we leave and get on with life? Excuse you, but I have family," Hang retorted.
[/hr]
 
Patrick O’Malley
SPME holding facilities

It was the movement of the door that had broken through his worry filled haze. Patrick twisted around, trying to see what was going on. Conversation within the facility seemed to grow quiet, as though the prisoners within were prey, trapped inside a lion’s cage, waiting to see what it would do. And praying it had nothing to do with them. The scientist, as it appeared based on the get up, meandered past Evan and Paddy’s bars, eyes assessing but offering neither reason nor condemnation.

Patrick had plenty of condemnation. Grunting, he pulled himself up to standing, ignoring the very real threat of the two burly men that followed the subject of his wrath.

“Oi! You muthafucka!” His arm extended past the bars, seeking purchase on the hated lab coat. But his fingers scooped air uselessly. Nevertheless, anger filled his heart, and his words reached out where his arms did no good. “Tha fuck you do wi’ my goddam parents?! I’ll make you fuckas pay, you bloody twats!”

The scientist gave no response. In fact, he didn’t seem to even hear Patrick at all. He merely strode on, only stopping before a particular cell to gesture to it. Paddy pressed his face against the bars when the screams started, catching sight of the boy being led down the hallway and out the door. No. No, this couldn’t happen. The boy shouldn’t go! Patrick clenched his eyes together, focusing in a desperate attempt to will a Gate into existence. He didn’t know the kid from Adam, but he needed saving.

No Gate came. The screaming grew quieter, and the door slammed with an ominous finality. Gritting his teeth, the Irishman began shaking the bars in a vain attempt to move them at all. So that’s what they had to look forward to. Shite.

@CloudyBlueDay @Eru @AndEveryoneAtSPME