Patrick O’Malley​

The whirring of the trapdoor drew the Irishman’s attention, and he turned his hungry eye from his poorly fated ‘dinner’ to the place of its origin, all too hopeful that his captors had chosen to replace the slop. A sigh, restrained and not a small bit regretful, crept from his nose. It seemed like he wouldn’t eat at all tonight. At least, not unless he wanted to scrap that mush off the wall. Hunger didn’t have him in such a tight grasp as that. Not yet.

Instead, he stood with a grunt, giving the label barely a glance before turning to the mess on the wall. Presumably the both it and the provided supplies were intended to be placed back on the same spot from which they came. After the wall had been cleaned, of course. Kneeling down beside the wall, he set down the cloth and the bottle and began shoveling the offending material off the wall and into the discarded bowl, managing to grimace only a little bit.

“Yah gonna come help?” Paddy requested with a glance, tone tired but unresentful. For all his fight from earlier, he now felt a sinking depression weigh on his heart. It was compounded by the reappearance of the boy from before, being dragged by their captors. At least he seemed to have gotten a few hits in, if their lumps were any indication. Not that it did him good; he didn’t budge. His brain screamed at him again to leap forward and make a grab for one of them, but his heart refused to move. So he remained, cleaning up the mess like the dutiful prisoner he’d become.

@Eru @CloudyBlueDay
 
"It's a fair point," Cassia shrugged, before following her cellmate's lead and downing much of the broth, reserving some to open up her bread-dunking options, "Could have used some sweetness. Soda, juice - beverage and dessert in one."

She sampled the mush on its own, and - while her expectations for food were always low - found herself disappointed. "You are quite welcome, by the by. And likewise; you're keeping... 'chill', and I appreciate that. Don't think I'd be much good anymore at the 'caring emotional support' role. And don't think I'd enjoy the 'creepy tormentor' role like some folk, either."

Cassia found her attention diverted as Mason re-emerged, a splotch of blood upon his shoulder. She'd have another scar-mate, if there was any bright side to be made from this. She watched as the burly guards callously tossed the boy's limp body, and felt the acrid bubbling of disdain welling up inside her.
 
.
Dakota listened as Parker and Crow spoke, her expression uncharacteristically blank. Several times she considered interjecting, but ever comment that pooled into her mind felt like wasted air. There was no optimistic platitudes that didn't feel somehow draining, and she was already too tired... too weary. Try as she did to keep their spirits up, hope was waning in the others, and somehow it only felt worse when she spoke out loud.

Then the doors to their private prison opened and with a yelp, Dakota bolted swiftly to her feet, nearly slipping as she raced for the side of the cage that opened to the walkthrough. She could see the guards, and behind them, as if he were little more than a rug, beaten of dust and rolled up to be put into storage, Mason. Poor sweet Mason, who had worked so hard to try to get them all to safety.

“Mason!” She cried, at the sight of him being dragged back to his cell and dropped, unceremoniously on the floor. Blood drained from his shoulder, where a similar wound to her own reflected what he had endured, but otherwise, he was absolutely still. He didn't move, and for a terrifiying moment her mind threatened all the worst possible conclusions - but surely there would be no reason to bring him back if he were...

Daring to trust that he was simply unconscious, Dakota gripped the bars tighter, until her knuckles paled, eyes tearing as she called across the small expanse, “Get up, Mason… please get up.”
TAGS: Collab with Cloudy || @rissa, @CloudyBlueDay
@BearEnthusiast @EveryoneInDemCells
 
Dinner?

Austin's hands slipped into his sweatshirt pockets, firmly gripping the fabric around his rumbling stomach. He hadn't eaten all day before the fire, and he never managed to get the burger Sapphire rang up for him. Food would be a welcome reprieve from the heavy-handed decision making, and the boy welcomed the excuse to avoid talking about it all any longer.

Makoa and Ayla took the lead in walking the group back through the tunnels, and Austin had to fight the urge to speak up. A part of him felt he needed to approach Makoa, to thank her for saving him in the mall. Another part convinced him it was pointless. Not to mention, he had tried a number of times to make conversation with the strangers he'd met, and almost every single time it had ended up in them running in the opposite direction.

Still, Austin fidgeted with the idea for a moment or two longer before the smell of spaghetti snapped him out of his brooding. It had been months since he'd had pasta, and the thought of warm noodles sent a wave of goosebumps down his arms. His stomach began to aggressively growl at the prospect of a hot meal, and instead of waiting another minute, he plopped himself down at the nearest set table. His grey eyes flickered back and forth in their sockets, scanning every inch of the steaming, mountain of pasta before him, while his mouth began to excessively salivate in anticipation of the feast to be had.

To no one in particular, he muttered, "W-wow. This is utterly insane. Insane."

Then, without waiting any longer, he snatched a serving spoon and began to layer the plate with as much spaghetti as one human being could possibly consume. Some families liked to discuss a day's events over dinner, but Austin was not a part of one of those families. Instead, he relished in having an excuse not to talk. Head down, the boy began wordlessly shoveling pasta into his jowls, only looking up to breathe between mouthfuls.
 
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THE CELLS

Throughout the day the scientist and his two guards came into the room frequently. The scientist would point, and a victim would be carted out. Screaming, kicking, or perhaps entirely silent, they went out one way or the other, and returned with a new scar.

Food appeared sporadically. Time flew, and without any sense of reality, it was hard to tell what was even happening around the cells. If you ate or if you didn’t eat, the food would come. And it didn’t stop.

Mason had awoken after a while and a bit of prodding from Dakota’s shrill cries. He was a little light headed, and his shoulder ached considerably, sporting a new, crescent shaped scar underneath the forming scab. He’d insisted to her that he felt fine, if a bit exhausted and achy. He would say nothing about what he and the scientist spoke about other then the new scar.

Though time was hard to grasp, four days passed before anything out of the ‘ordinary’ happened. People disappeared and came back, until everyone had a scar. Sometimes, people were taken once or twice more after their scars were given to them. They were poked and prodded, but never too long and never too harshly. Blood was taken, syringes filled. You could never tell quite what was going on, but it felt like your body was hardly your own.

After what had to have been days of this blurred reality, a man came into the hallway that contained the cells. He was unaccompanied by any muscle, and he was not there to whisk another victim away for their turn in the doctor’s chair.

He walked in, and he inspected. He paused in front of every cage and spoke not a word. Then, he gazed up at the ceiling, and gave a nod to no one.

As soon as he had exited, a gas began to fill the room. A gas that made your throat itch, your arms heavy, and your lids begin to close until…

Until you woke up again. But this time, somewhere different.

It was a living room. Strangely homely, furnished. You woke up on a sofa, or a couch or a chair at a dining table. It was large, large enough for the ten people to walk around spaciously.

Though it was comfortably furnished, the walls were metal, cold to the touch. And at the end of the room was a door of reinforced steel. Completely locked, utterly impossible to hit or break or scream at. Well, you could scream at it. It wouldn’t help.

The silence was piercing.

@Red Thunder @HerziQuerzi @Shizuochan @Elle Joyner @rissa @Eru

⌽​

THE PROTECTORS BASE

As the week with the Protectors trickled by, it was obvious they worked like a well oiled machine. They bickered like family and they even had a game night, (Archer was found guilty of cheating multiple times when there was a gust of wind and suddenly everyone had different cards, and Silas was declared winner due to his unbeatable poker face) but when there were things to be done and effort to be put in, there was no exception. The Protectors were built on trust. Even the new members could see it from a mile away, and they dared not break the mechanisms that had been set in place. They had come together in hopes of building a world where they did not have to live underground, and their mission was sacred.

Every day they trained, together and separately, physically and mentally, on brute strength and on their powers. They traded off on laundry, cooking and cleaning. They talked, they spent time together. It was never totally quiet.

Quite a few members of the Protectors seemed a bit banged and bruised. Silas, the blonde who practically touched the ceilings, walked with a limp. His left arm was bandaged. The girl with horns, Christina, had a bruised face and her side was entirely bandaged. And Casey, the girl who barely made any appearances outside of her room, wore a sling on her arm and her chest covered up by more bandages.

Darius had explained they were on a separate mission, to rescue their newest alongside the North Star four, Mirra, the girl who looked in the worst condition of them all. It had gone a little awry, he’d said, but they’d made it back in one piece, Mirra included. She was a quiet girl, but did not seem totally shy. She walked about the base with an almost haughty air, one that had been bred and perfected to give her a sense of control. If you spoke to her, she ended up being quite nice, if a little bit focused elsewhere.

Perhaps the most startling member of the Protectors was the young boy that bounded across the space with a stuffed reindeer clutched in his hands. Perseus, Darius’s son, the true heart and spirit of the group. If there had been any doubts that the Protectors weren't a true family, than seeing them around Percy would certainly change any disbelievers mind. Hopefully, an air of safety was more present in this home.

Percy was not shy about approaching their guests and starting a conversation. He would talk about anything and everything with anyone and introduce himself with absolute glee until someone apologized for his presence and carted him off on their shoulders.

On the fourth day, Darius called the four from the North Star mall into his office. It was there he explained they were going to be included in their first training exercise.

“By now, I hope you’ve seen enough of how we work to understand that eventually you would be included in our routines.” He was warm and welcoming, as always. “We’re going to enact a training simulation. It is a simple concept of search and rescue.

You four will pick one of the Protectors to add to your team. The rest will play as hostile enemies that guard their captives. Spread across the base will be obstacles you must face. To win, you must rescue the captives and bring them back to my office. You lose when every member of your team has been captured by the enemies.

Choose wisely.”

allyall
Let me know who you guys choose to be apart of your team, North Star Four! And no, you don’t get to know their powers. ;)
 
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Time in the cells ticked by in their prison at a pace that could only be described as painfully slow. Over time, the others were all marked like Mason... like her, and while their wounds healed, there seemed to be a lingering sense among all the captives of doom. Even Dakota, for all her brilliance and her uncanny ability to find light just about anywhere, was sinking fast into desperation...

She ate. She ate because she needed to, because her stomach hurt and her head spun and her hands shook, and no matter how desperately she wanted to ignore the food, she just couldn't. She ate, and she hated herself for it. And then time continued, and she didn't die, but she wasn't entirely convinced that she wouldn't...

Then the gas flooded in, and she was sure that was it. Their captors had decided they weren't worth the trouble... they weren't worth keeping around. She didn't fight. She didn't have it in her to scramble and cry and claw at the bars. Instead, she sat crossed legged on the floor, and she closed her eyes and allowed her thoughts to drift to her family... to their happiest memories. To those things that she hoped they would cherish with her gone.

When she woke then, and found herself in a mysterious new place, it was with an odd sense of delirium. She was no expert on the Great Beyond, but she was fairly certain Heaven, however nice it would be, didn't come with dining set and a fireplace. Sitting up from where she was curled in a large, cushy arm chair, she blinked heavy eyes and looked around at the room, filled with the other captives.

"...W...what?" Was all she could think to say.
TAGS: Collab with Cloudy || @rissa, @CloudyBlueDay
@BearEnthusiast @EveryoneInDemCells
 
Patrick O’Malley
the Comfy Chair​

”Goddam no good fuzz. Dey think teh countrae owes them shite, pissin’ abou’n tellin’ people mindin’ their own business how tah live their lives...”

“Da, you couldae hurt someone. They was jes tryin’ tah keep everyone safe.”

Tommy leaned heavily on Patrick’s shoulder, arm slung over it in a desperate bid to keep from pitching forward. It was hard work for the boy. Though high school rugby kept him in good shape, his father was a stout man. And their apartment was still a block away. The O’Malley patron reeked of cheap whiskey and cigarette smoke, and it looked as though he still sported a small line of blood trailing down from the corner of his mouth. At Paddy’s assertion, Tommy stopped hard. Patrick responded in kind, through no small part due to his father’s immovable frame. Tommy turned him to look him in the eye. Both hands on the boy’s shoulders, Tommy took on an oddly sober manner.

“Never trust the establishment, Patrick. No matter what they say. Everything is always ‘jes for everyone’s good’, but they never mean it. Everything is about control, lad.

“Even teh nicest gesture.”


It was the pain in his left shoulder that woke him up; that damn scar was still healing, and the ache dug into his arm like icy claws. Right hand gripping the complaining shoulder in a futile effort to stem the pain, Patrick opened his eyes. This ... this wasn’t right. Where were they? It was familiar, oddly, though he knew for a fact that he’d never seen this room before. And ... was he on a cushioned chair? Something was odd indeed.

It was probably the obviously metal walls. Far from whatever hope he’d allowed himself to feel that he and those like him had been freed, they quite obviously were still very much in prison. But this at least was open to everyone. He sat forward, eyes looking. Seeking familiar faces. Conversation with Evan over the last ... however long it was had been sparse at best; Patrick had never felt like speaking, given the circumstances of their predicament. But there had still been some form of connection. He moved to push himself up to look for him.

He saw Cassia first.

“Cass!” Patrick raised his voice in cheer at seeing his fellow runner and hurried toward her. Before she could protest, he wrapped her in a hug, glad to once more find his partner in crime. “Glad yer here, too!”

@Shizuochan
 
Let the Exercise Begin

Once the team had claimed their Protector, a smile fell upon Darius’s face. “An interesting choice.” He mused, putting his hands together. “I’ll send him in, and you can start building your strategy. Then you will be directed to your start point.”

As Darius called for Silas over the radio system, all the Protectors in the common room watched him stand with a smirk. Basil handed Makoa five bucks. Jace and Archer breathed a sigh of relief while sharing an angry glare, and Ayla counted her blessings.

A few moments later Silas entered Darius’s office with a soft smile on his lips. “I’m honored you chose me,” He started. “My powers are perhaps not the best for this situation but I will do my best to aid you. Allow me to explain my powers.”

In the small office, Silas’s form began to shift. His exposed skin became rough in texture, moss sprouting at his fingertips as he grew taller and taller, until he touched the ceiling and had to crouch. Before them was an incredibly large, tree-like man, with blinking yellow eyes and a beard of shrubbery. So tall, in fact, that he had bent twice over just to fit in the room.

“Silas cannot speak in his full form,” came Darius’s voice. “He’s majorly bullet proof and can extend his limbs, as well as change his limbs with going full form.”

Silas began to switch back to human form slowly, leaving only his arm as a massive tree which he extended towards the door, and promptly unlocked it.

“I’ll help you in whatever way I can, and whatever way you feel best for the mission.” Silas said with a nod.

“Alright then. Once you all are finished with your plan, Silas will guide you to the infirmary.”

⌽​

Once the five felt confident in their strategy, Silas showed them the path to the infirmary. “Once the sirens blare, the exercise will begin.” He added, opening the door for them quite politely. His tone was formal.

Five minutes before sirens blared over the intercom system. Silas stood from the bed he had been sitting on. “That means the exercise has begun.” He announced with the slightest spark of excitement in his eyes. “Let’s go.”

@Joan @Sairento @Radio Jelly @Doctor Jax
 
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As it happened, agonizing tedium had made the soup all the more bearable. The days had given opportunity for ample experimentation, and Cassia had become intimately connected with the subpar fare. The soup and mush combined did something nice for the taste, although rendered the mush closer to something like sludge. Smearing the mush on the bread, however, and then using the broth in au jus fashion was much closer to a winning combination.

Caught in place, and simply subsisting, she grew almost complacent in her captivity. At least here, her appetite was consistently sated, on schedule. Every so often, she’d shoot beams of vitriolic thoughts and gazes at the captors that marched in, but ever so slowly, they waned.

There was almost a sense of disappointment when the gas took her into darkness.

She awoke, a slender figure with the side of her body leaning over the edge of a sofa. Cassia gave a start, feeling as she had fallen over into some abyss; the cushioning was marshmallow soft compared to her former arrangements. She had almost sunk.

Her gaze was slow to settle and readjust, the formerly sharp vagrant instincts dulled, sedated. She had barely noticed Patrick in time before the Irish boy enveloped her in a warm hug.

I thought I told him I don’t even like hand-holding…

“Patrick, I’m… I’m glad too.” She allowed the hug to hold, although she likely lacked the strength to pull away regardless. “Heavens, is glad really the right word here?”

She offered a dazed smile.

@Red Thunder
 
Co-written with Doctor Jax

-----

“Let’s get this started,” Alex said, his voice carrying a suppressed energy that said exactly one thing; he there to win. “Comm check. One, two, three,” he said, having taken a step back so that his own voice would be quieter if it didn’t go through the comms. Once he was satisfied it was working, he turned slightly to the Asian would-be blackmail victim. Whom’s title he kept secret, obviously. “Hang, let’s go,” he said, walking towards the wall that split the infirmary and the storage room nearby.

Hang shook out her jitters. If she was nervous, she kept it carefully hidden behind a stony look. They had gone over their plan several times, and she had little hope that everything would go exactly as they imagined, but by God she wasn’t about to take a challenge lying down.

“Alright. Do I have to hold your hand, or what?” Hang asked in clipped tones, cracking her spine.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy over something so innocent as hand-holding,” he taunted, before clearing his throat. “Yes. Unless you want to be manhandled,” Alex replied, before sticking out one hand. “Now let’s go. Time’s a wastin’,” he said, purposefully throwing on an accent to mimic…who said that line? Who cared. Message over accent.

Hang rolled her eyes, not bothering to jab at him over such a slight, and she grabbed his hand roughly.

“Alright, Ghost Boy, hand is held,” she stated.

Alex grumbled, and would’ve retorted at the Ghost-Boy nickname, but he was more preoccupied with focusing his powers. A moment later, he knew he was intangible. He started floating for one, figuratively and literally. The sense of weightlessness was interesting. Like floating in water, only he couldn’t feel the water around him. That, and he was actually floating. Opening his eyes again, he turned his head for a moment and checked that Hang’s grip hadn’t loosened before floating the two of them through the wall adjoining the infirmary and storage.

To Hang, the sensation was… uncomfortable, but not painful. She remembered when she was sixteen, she had asked her uncle to let her go and get a skydiving license. He had protested, but after some persuasion, he agreed to let her go, and she remembered that first gut-wrenching fall and the feeling of weightlessness that ensued as soon as she opened her chute. This felt very much the same.

She followed along, gripping Alex’s hand tightly. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she let go, but she also wasn’t keen on finding out. It would be their luck that he stop in the middle of a wall, and she’d end up half-in-half-out, and they’d need a chainsaw to get her free.

Alex sighed as they popped out the other end, glancing around the room to check that they were alone before he broke his intangibility again. Almost immediately, the sense of ‘weight’ came back to him, and Alex winced at the slight ‘tap’ sound as his shoes hit the ground again. “Need to fix that if you want to be completely silent,” he thought.

Hang plopped beside him, the free-floating feeling immediately leaving her. She took in a deep breath before looking over at Alex and - for a brief second - scoffing.

“You been smokin’, buddy? You lookin’ a little,” she said, gesturing to his eyes, which were glowing a rather delightfully floral shade of pink. “Didn’t know you were asking Joan to grow you some ‘special herbs’. Don’t worry, peony suits you. Flatters your complexion.”

“The fuck are you talking about,” he asked, frowning back at Hang. “No, I didn’t ask Joan to grow me anything, especially not…peony? Why? What’s wrong with my eyes?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe the fact they look like you slept with your eyes open in a chlorine pool,” Hang said, crossing her arms and cocking her head to the side, ponytail swaying as she surveyed the dark-haired kid. “They’re pink, moron.”

“Oh. Fuck. No. Give me a mirror. A window. Fucking. NO,” he growled, shutting his eyes as he paced the small storage room. “Pink? Are you kidding me? It couldn’t just be green or something, they’re pink?!”

Hang grinned surreptitiously, but she was well aware they could deal with all these shenanigans later.

“Come on, Pink-Eye, we’re burning daylight,” she griped, shoving him in the direction of the security room. “They’re not going to wait forever.”

Alex groaned, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes for a moment to focus himself. “Fucking…if you tell anyone,” he growled sharply, turning around to glare at Hang. In hindsight, it probably would’ve been more menacing if his eyes weren’t glowing pink…

“Hey, I won’t need to. Everyone on the comm already knows by now,” Hang said, holding out her hand. “Now come on, let’s get going. We’re wasting time.”

Alex sighed, grabbing her hand and yanking her forward as he made them intangible again. This was already looking to be a long fake-mission…
 
In the Kitchen...

As Alex and Hang entered the kitchen, all seemed still. The dishwasher hummed as it worked and there were pots and pans still waiting to be washed. The fire extinguisher lay above the stove (where it seemed to be needed often) but it was almost clear that no one was here.

Until a hooded figure stepped out from the wonderful hiding spot of the space between the large fridge and the counter. Long black hair spilled out of her black hoodie, accompanied by bright red lips. Casey, her right arm in a sling, appeared from the shadows.

"It's a good thing I only need one hand to do this," She grumbled, her tone low and scruffy. Bringing up her palm, an ethereal purple smoke swirled in her hand. She brought it up to her cherry red lips, and blew.

As the smoke would fill the room at an alarming rate, a strong wave nausea would begin to overcome it's inhabitants. All except Casey, that was, who seemed entirely unaffected. Wearing the slightest of smirks, Casey kicked the trashcan towards them with the tip of her boot. "If you're gonna barf, do it in there, please."

As the smoke grew thicker, Casey took it as her chance to attempt to slide past the duo and out of the kitchen.

@Doctor Jax @Sairento
 
.
Most of his cellmates had been comfortably laid upon the many couches and sofas in the strange room. Without such luck, as Parker always found himself to be, he had been draped uncomfortably upon one of the wooden dining chairs, airs dangling over the sides and his neck craned back. Strangely, this position felt familiar. As he woke, the pains and aches were shouting out at him from his unhappy rest. But it wasn’t like the cell floors were much better.

Letting out a grunt, he pulled himself up and used the dining table as support. He surveyed the chilly room, sterile like everything else in this place. His electric blue eyes gazed upon the metal walls, and the other victims of this place as they woke from comfy couches. He grumbled in jealousy, until he heard Dakota’s soft voice.

“H-hey,” he said, moving over to her. “Are you alright?” The static that caused his hair to stand up straight rippled, and he could feel his powers much more so than normal, bubbling in his fingertips. What was going on?

Looking up, Dakota blinked a few times, eyes cast in different directions, to the others on the couch, before returning to him, her hand reaching out, resting on Parker’s arm. Head shaking, she knotted her fingers anxiously together, “I… I don’t know. Are… am I dead?” It sounded like a stupid question, after it left her mouth and her cheeks reddened as she bit her lip, “Where are we, Parker?”

Flinching at first when she tried to rest on him, Parker realized that their powers weren’t deactivated at all in this room. “We’re not dead,” He mumbled, continuing to look about the room. “We’re still captives, that’s for sure. But our powers are working..” He held out his hand and let electricity crackle between his fingers. “Maybe we could escape, then. If everyone’s powers are working..”

Watching his hands, the spark that danced across his fingertips, she nodded, “M… maybe. But…” Frowning, her gaze dropped to her hands, “But what if that’s why we’re here, Parker? What if they want us to escape? What if they wanna see what… what we can do?”

Parker thought deeply on this possibility. He fell silent once she had spoken it, and his gaze fell down. “I don’t… I don’t doubt it.” He mumbled solemnly. “It’s some game they’re gonna play. At least..” He sighed. “At least this one doesn’t look like a painful one.”

Looking up, Dakota smiled dryly, “...Not yet, anyway. But I can help… with that. It’s probably the only way I know how to help, actually. I don’t want them to hurt you, anymore, Parker. Not any of you.”

Peering at her quizzically, Parker slipped his hand into hers, interlocking the fingers. There was a crackle of harmless blue electricity. “What do you mean?” He murmured. “Just focus on protecting yourself, alright? Just do what they say and you’ll be okay.”

Lowering her gaze again, she tightened her grip on his, her jaw tensing just slightly. Subtly, her eyes flashed faintly pink and a pulse traveled through her arm, into Parkers. Without looking up, she spoke softly, “...Too late.”

“Wh—“ He was cut off by the sudden pulse of energy flowing through him, breath caught in his throat. He felt his hair stand up even further and goosebumps rise on his arms. It was a strangely warm feeling, but it didn’t stop him from looking at her angrily.

“Dakota, I s-said..” He took a few more deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves. “What did you.. what did you do?”

“...Now they can’t hurt you.” She murmured, her voice nearly a whisper. Slowly, she looked up, her eyes misty as she shook her head, “I’m not gonna let them. Not anymore.”

“Dakota!” He hissed, shoving his hand back into her lap. “T-Take it back. You need to keep your strength. This is just what they want you to do,” He growled.

“I can’t…” She said, simply, shaking her head, “and I won’t. I don’t care, as long as you’re safe, Parker. You… you need to get out of here. You need to see your family.”

My family?! What about your family!” He yelped. “This isn’t gonna help… you think I can just go barging down the door now? That’s not how this works. If you want to help, at least… at least, let’s make a plan.. But this is just you making excuses. You can’t afford to waste any of your energy. You’ve only been here a few days,” He was angry, but his voice only lost its power as he spoke. “Please, just listen to me. We won’t get out like this, and you’re wrong if you think I’m going to leave you.”

Tears stung her eyes and Dakota blinked as she shook her head, “That’s just it, Parker. I… I’ve only been here a few days. You’ve been here… so long. Anyway… It’s not all gone.” Smiling faintly, she shrugged, “It’ll recharge, and then we’ll both be safe. Just so long as they don’t blow up the room or anything. I don’t want you to leave me. But I need you to be okay. I just… I do.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Parker wrapped his arm around Dakota’s small frame and pulled her into him, hugging her tightly before letting her go, keeping the one arm wrapped around her, freeing his shoulder for her to lean on once more. “Okay.” He mumbled. “We’ll both get out of here. We will. Just tell me before you do that again, okay? We’ll find a better use for it.”

“Hm. Okay...” Dakota tucked her legs up to her chest, curling closer with a small, faint smile, her head resting on his shoulder, “But I can’t think of any better use… I’d do it for everyone here if I could. I wish I could… It feels wrong, not to.”

He nodded solemnly, unsure of what else to say. He frankly didn’t feel very deserving of the invulnerability she had granted him, but was glad to have her in his arms. “I know.” He murmured. “I guess now all we can do is.. wait.”

“I’m scared, Parker. More here than I was back in the cells. It feels wrong here. Like… like a trick. Like they want us to believe it’s safe. That it’s okay. You weren’t wrong. We need a plan… A good one. And fast.”

Parker frowned, rubbing Dakota’s arm as his brows furrowed in thought. “I know. I feel it too.” He mumbled. “I think our best bet.. Is getting past that door. If we can get out, if we can throw them off guard…” He gritted his teeth. “I don’t know. That might be what they want. I can’t.. I can’t form a plan if I don’t know what they expect. We have to wait a little longer.”

“If we wait until my powers recharge… and we can get the door open, I can go out first. That way, if it’s a trap, I won’t get hurt, but no one else will, either.” Curling and uncurling her fingers, she stared at her hands, curiously, “Just need to find a way to open it…”
TAGS: Collab with @CloudyBlueDay || @EveryoneOnDosCouches
 
Cassia wondered how long it had been from then unto now, caught in an embrace with, in truth, a near stranger who felt as if an ‘old friend’. Days, perhaps, or weeks. She pulled away from the Irishman, to fend off the strange constricted feeling in her lungs. There was a strange feeling there, of guilt forgotten amidst captivity, that resurfaced in waves. The memory of a promise made, to a mother who rushed into sacrifice, and promptly deferred.

To keep him safe.

Maybe Patrick’s mother would forgive her failure, given the circumstances. It seemed logical, all things - creepy teen-snatcher squadron, mostly - considered, although the various adages of love, family and irrationality sprung to mind. If the lot of them died here, in sterile solitude:

“Probably never hear the end of it.” Cassia muttered, to no one in particular.

She scanned the room, over Patrick, and the boy with the curly hair, Hedieh, and another girl, wispy and frail; cast her eyes over another pair, yelping then whispering, enthralled in some sort of teary-eyed exchange; noticed the girl, with her eyes flashed pink. A brief flicker, that she would have missed ninety-nine times out of a hundred, but she caught it.

Almost subconsciously, she raised her hand, allowing a meek spray of water to jet from her fingers. Her ’gift’ was back, by the grace of -.

“I can spray water.” Cassia raised her voice abruptly, to no one in particular, to everyone. Patrick. Hedieh. The frail and the wispy. The boy and girl, stuck in their embrace. “Move it just a little. It’s not really too useful, but if I focus hard enough I can make it boil, probably scald someone - for when we get past that door.”

Not if.

She looked around intently, waiting for more answers. More options.

@Red Thunder @rissa @HerziQuerzi @Elle Joyner @Eru
 
Hedieh Redding // Not Still A Cage, Semifortunately

Hedieh almost regretted being moved to this new room, with it's couches and comfier exterior. It was an upgrade over the couches, but Hedieh had always preferred stability. And there was little in life more stable than an endless monotony. It hadn't been pleasant in there, but she'd been able to mentally detach herself from the situation that she was confident she could have drifted through limbo indefinitely without losing her mind.

So now, with actual furniture to sit on and room to move, Hedieh found herself scratching at the crescent moon scar once more, filled with the need to fidget her nervous energy away.

When Cassia spoke, Hedieh raised her head, but also folded herself even tighter into the chair she had claimed, knees pressed tight between her and the table. "I can turn invisible and pass through things when I do," she declared, "but I also become blind and deaf. I could walk right through that door or the walls... except they know about my power, and clearly have some way to control when I can use it. I'd rather not lose my powers mid-use and end up dead inside a bunch of metal."
 
death is an inevitable solution to alternate realities and multiple possibilities but in the end we just lay in a grave and decay
"Will you stop saying that?"

Wrapping an arm as best he could around his waist, Leo glared at his cellmate as the broth finally settled in his stomach. He was already being tormented by his captors, he didn't need Aaron to do it as well.

"Look, I know you've been through some shit, okay? But we're on the same side. If I get out, you get out. It's just how it is. Now can you... just stop saying that?"

"I'm just prophesying!" Aaron cooed, smiling at Leo with a terrifying warmth. "We're not on the same side. I'm on my side and you're on yours." Aaron dragged his finger across the cell floor, separating Leo and himself with an invisible line. "I just want to know how it feels like," He whispered. "How it feels like to know?"

Frowning, Leo leaned forward, using the arm he used to clutch his waist to prop himself up. He shook his head softly, almost defiantly. He pointed at the invisible line and then reached forward, brushing his hand across a section as if to sever it.

"You don't understand. We are on the same side. You're in here, just like me. Taken by these bastards cause we had the evolutionary audacity to house these powers."

His voice slowly grew more passionate, like it had on his broadcast... but as he concluded his face flushed and he glanced away from Aaron's dark eyes. "I don't know."

"That's right. You don't know. You know nothing." Aaron insisted, grabbing Leo's wrist in a tight grasp as he tried to sever the line between them. His grip was startlingly strong for someone so frail. "You don't know what you're playing with. You don't know what they'll do and you don't know when they'll do it."

For a peculiar moment, Aaron's gaze was perfectly clear. "You want good, and I want bad. We aren't on the same side."

Leo gasped softly, though more from shock than actual fear. He was unnerved, sure, but it was... relieving, almost, to conjure at least a bit of emotion from Aaron. He ignored the pain in his wrist and stared at the dark eyes before him. They were deceptively clear, but Leo, raised to always reach out, continued on.

"I want what's best for us, the people like us, to whatever end. And I want my sister back."

Glancing away suddenly, Leo cleared his throat and spoke in a whisper. "I'm sorry about what they've done to you. And-And I know you're right... I don't know what we're up against or what they can do... But I have to believe we can fight back harder."

The clarity in Aaron’s mismatched eyes fell away as Leo spoke. His lips turned upward in a snarl and he yanked his hand back, relieving Leo of his grasp. “You’re hopeless,” He announced, the snark turning into a knowing smirk. “Sister, hmm? If she’s anything like you I bet she didn’t last long either.” His eyes were glazed over with a terrifying look. “So sad when a family just can’t find their footing.”

For the first time since he woke, Leo felt a surge of anger well within him. Tilting his head slightly, nostrils flaring as his lips too curled upwards in a snarl, Leo opened his mouth to speak-- To clarify, for the first and last time, that talking ill of his sister -his family- would not be tolerated.

However, he never got that chance.

A man walked in, surveyed each and every cage, and then exited the space without uttering a single word. Tensing, as the door latched shut, a sound whirred and gas filled the room, saturated the cells and those caged within. He tried holding his breath… pressing the hospital gown tight against his face… But it was no use; every inch of him felt heavier, as if laden with bricks and slowly, his eyes drooped, and then all at once he fell into the darkness of his subconscious.


Blinking his eyes open, Leo came into consciousness quickly, panic licking it’s way up his spine. Within a few heartbeats, he realized a few things: He was laying on something soft… It cradled his sore body to the point of furthering his pain. As if his body was rebuking the comfortibilities of his old life. Secondly, his powers, which were but a wisp of their former prowess within the cells, blossomed in his mind’s eye.

With a groan, Leo pushed himself up onto his elbows and glanced around the room wearily. Everyone within the cells surrounded him, most, if not all, already awake. Except…

“Pst, hey!” Leo whispered, nudging Aaron in his side softly. “Hey, we’re not in the cells anymore, wake up!”

When there wasn’t an immediate answer, Leo continued his surveying of the room, deeply impressed by those around him. The girl with the jet spray fingers, invisigal… Mason! He nudged Aaron once more with another ‘wake up!’ before clearing his throat and following Hedieh and Cassia’s example.

“Name’s Leo and I uh, got some control over tech. Good news? We’re surrounded by lots of it. Bad news? Dunno if I can differentiate anything until that door opens.”

collab with cloudy, title by cloudy, thank her for that brilliance
 
late to the game but i brought popcorn but it's cold and yucky i guess cause i was late
The days crawled by, and Evan could hardly tell. He no longer made any fuss about eat what was given, once he saw it had no effect on anyone apart from Patrick. So he ate, and time went forward. Every so often, another prisoner was taken away. They came back with a scar. They came for Evan, too, eventually. He didn't resist... he just let it happen. It burned.

With no real way to measure the time, it could have been weeks before the gas came. Evan didn't realize what was happening before he'd gone into a stupor. When he awoke, he wondered if he was dreaming, and pinched himself to try and be sure. There were the others from the cells, in a much more comfortable room than could be believed. Patrick had already begun moving toward a girl to capture her in an embrace, and he heard the others beginning to discuss their own powers. Of course; that's why they were here, after all. These stupid powers.

"If your powers work," Evan broke in quietly, surprising himself, "mine must too. I-- I can heal your wounds. J-just say something."

He now realized he was sitting on a couch. It was a drastic change from the cell floor of the last days in purgatory.
Oh, come now. You'll never come close to being what Evelyn would have wanted at this rate.

Evan couldn't see it, but his eyes gave the faintest of sparks.
@room.people.there.are.way.too.many.before.breakfast.RIP
 
something wicked this way comes

"Eugh..."

With a moan, Crow coughed her way to consciousness, body still laden with a sense of heaviness. Her hand twitched and slowly, she opened her eyes, clenching and unclenching the hand that tingled from numbness. Craning her head around, confused by the comfort she found herself in, Crow found herself on a couch, legs stretched out comfortably while her head rested against a pillow in Mason's lap.

"What... Where are we?" Crow asked, trying to sit up. "Where's Dakota?"

Finding himself propped up on a strangely soft surface, Mason moaned as he rubbed his eyes and tried to pull himself up. The weight in his lap was surprising and even more so when he realized it was Crow. Taking a moment to blink in confusion as he looked around the room, at the others waking up, recollection dawned upon him.

"She's right over there," He mumbled groggily. "Are.. you okay?" Mason brought his hand up to put it gently on her arm. He never would have thought himself to be depraved of the human touch, but the past few days.... everything had been so.. cold. So lifeless. The cold bars and floor of the cell had kept him alienated, and without even a cellmate, it had been that much worse. He was glad to be beside her.

"I'm alright... I think. My head hurts. You? You okay?"

Realization dawning quickly, she tried sitting up, but when it hurt too badly her eyes roved the room until they settled on Dakota. With verification that she was indeed alright, Crow allowed a moment's relaxation before surveying the room more closely. All the occupants of the cells were within the large, finely furnished room, and most of them were awake to boot. Frowning, eyeing the metal door and the walls made of steel, Crow wondered when this new addition had been added.

"Wh-What do you think is gunna' happen next, Mason?" Crow whispered softly, her voice resigned but seemingly unafraid.

Allowing himself to sink back into the couch, revelling in the sweet softness of it, Mason closed his eyes momentarily, trying to focus his mind. He could feel the stars. He hadn't felt them in a while and their presence was welcomed, another touch he had been craving. It was almost relieving, and the first bit of relief he had felt in a long time.

"I don't know," He murmured, opening his eyes. "I can.. feel my powers."

"Can you?" Crow asked in wonder, staring up at him with wide eyes. "Can you see a way out?"

Mason frowned, taking a deep breath as his eyes began to glow a cerulean blue. He could see a path, in this room. If he just followed it through the door...

"Auhg!" Mason cried, feeling as if he had just walked into a wall. The glow fizzed out and he fell onto the couch again. "Ow.. I..." He rubbed his head. It was as if in his mind, when he had been following the path, he'd hit a sudden dead end. "I can't.. I can't see past this room."

Inhaling sharply, Crow forced herself to her feet with a grimace, leaning over Mason with worry. Once he fell backwards onto the couch, Crow, glancing around the room with a warning frown, sat down as well. She had never seen someone's glow...fizzle out... in such a manner. It was unnerving. Adrenaline slowly crept throughout her veins as she speculated what kind of evils SPME were up to.

Especially for her...

"Are you okay, Mason?"

Bringing his hand to his forehead, Mason let out a sigh. His head throbbed considerably, but he tried to shake it off for the sake of Crow standing worriedly in front of him. "S'okay.. I'm okay.." He sucked in a breath and sat up slowly, trying to shake it off. He placed his hands on his knees. "They must be.. using the same tech as they did in the cells, y'know? Just.. around us, instead. Guess it hurts a little more.."

"It might be more concentrated," Crow mused softly, her face still scrunched with worry. "Might be using diff--" Crow was cut short by the arrival of a dark haired boy, slightly older than herself, who looked oddly familiar. Raising her chin haughtily, protectively, she wondered what he wanted.

"Remember me?" Leo laughed out softly, kneeling on Mason's opposite side. He gave Crow a cheerful glance before he leaned in and spoke in a hushed voice. "You okay man? I saw you just then... Looked like you got hit by a ghost or somethin'."

A smile came upon Mason's face as Leo came over. "'Course I remember you," Mason said with a beaming grin. "Everybody, stop crowding around me like I'm important or something." He waved them off with a little laugh. "I'm fine. Tried to use my powers.. it didn't work so well." He rubbed the back of his head. "What about you.. are you okay? Why are you trying to wake up that weirdo cellmate of yours? He gives me the creeps." He flashed Crow another smile, trying to make her a little less worried.

"Weirdo? Oh! You mean Aaron?" Shaking his head ruefully and then pausing to scrath the back of his neck, Leo made an awkward face before continuing. "He's uh.. Well he's a bit different, just needs a lil' light though, ya know? My ma' always said everyone deserves kindness, even the weirdos."

Crow glanced at Leo with a cocked brow, as if Leo was speaking something foreign. Turning to Mason, she shrugged her shoulders but said nothing. She couldn't believe in what this kid was preaching... Not when people like the SPME existed in the world.

@allyall
 
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How Not To Search and Rescue
A Collaboration with @Joan, @Sairento, @Doctor Jax, and @CloudyBlueDay

A palpable tension hung in the waiting room during the interim period, and though he was somewhat reassured by the addition of a far more experienced protector on their side, he was far less enthused that he had ended up on Silas's squad. After all, it seemed logical to Austin that the bigger the rescue team, the more resources the other team would devote to stopping them.

While Austin sat in the infirmary with his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, he couldn't help but imagine all the various super-powered abilities he could potentially run into. He had thrown himself into training over the last four days, but he had made almost no effort beyond those sessions to get to know the other Protectors. Now, he was mentally kicking himself for not trying to.

If you had bothered to ask a single person what they could do...


On the back of one trembling hand, he wiped away the sweat gathering at his hairline, and took a deep breath. Silas had mentioned sirens to signal the start of the exercise, but that was almost five minutes prior. His team was headed directly to the common room, and though he knew as much, he still felt woefully lost in the scheme of things. Then again, he had never done too well under pressure, and was likely over-thinking it. Somewhere overhead, a siren pierced his contemplation, forcing him back into reality.

Silas stood up from where he was sitting, and politely announced, “That means the exercise has begun. Let’s go.”

At his voice, Austin leapt to his feet a little too fast, and stumbled as he made his way over to the other two members of his team. Without making eye-contact, he found himself compulsively wiping his hands on the front of his jacket, despite there not being anything to wipe off.

"To the common room, then?" The boy took a couple steps to the infirmary door, and pushed it open, all the while ushering for his fellow teammates to go ahead of him. He tried to keep a brave face so that his teammates wouldn't think less of him, but his heart was hammering so rapidly against his chest that he wagered they could probably hear it themselves.

The argument over who they should pick was honestly much shorter than Joan had expected. She hadn't really expected Alex and Hang to agree to anybody she picked, so when they had agreed that Silas was a good idea almost immediately, it surprised her. Of course, she would have preferred to work with Archer since they had already worked together, but she knew that Alex at least didn't like him that much, and besides, the limited teaching Silas had been able to give her in the past few days had helped her feel a bit more comfortable around him. Though, like Austin, she was upset at herself for not asking more questions during the various training exercises she had participated in. If I had just been a little less shy about it, maybe we would have more information...I guess we'll learn something today, at least.

In the infirmary, she perched on the head of one of the beds, fiddling with the sleeve of her new jacket. It wasn't quite as nice as her old one had been, but at least it wasn't singed in various places, and it was comfortable enough. It also had thumb holes, which were nice for fidgeting and distracting herself at times like this.

I hope we manage this. I mean, we'll learn something either way, but...I dunno, it would just be nice if we could succeed, y'know? It's unlikely, but--

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sirens. Letting go of her sleeve, she swung off the bed, moving for the door. Austin reached it first, and she nodded. "Yep, that's right. Make sure to keep your eyes open, I'd rather not be ambushed so soon." She waited for Silas to go first before following him closely, letting Austin bring up the rear since that was what he seemed to want.

Along the way, Hang and Alex's voices came over the comms, and she raised an eyebrow as Hang mentioned her.

"I wouldn't have been able to grow him anything anyway even if I wanted to, Hang," she murmured, keeping her voice low in case of any prying ears. "That is, unless somebody has a stash somewhere, but I doubt Darius would tolerate--"

She paused, letting the rest of what had been said sink in. A laugh began to bubble up, and she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle it, not letting go until she was sure she could speak without making too much extra noise.

"Pink? Really? For Alex? Now that's just..." She could hear Hang reminding them to stay on task over the comms, and she nodded, taking a breath to steady herself.

"Right. The common room shouldn't be much farther."

They would reach the common room moments after Hang and Alex touched down in the kitchen. Joan reached for the door handle, using gestures to get Silas and Austin into a good position to hit anybody in the room, but before she could turn it, she heard something over the comms.

What are they doing? Doesn't sound good...

"Hang, Alex, what's wrong?" she hissed as softly as she could, casting a worried glance at the boys.


Alex groaned, pressing an ear to the comms. “Casey can use smoke too,” he mumbled before taking the trash can. Stumbling over to the oven, he turned on the fan, himself an unhealthy shade of green before he emptied the contents of his day into the trash can. “Don’t breathe it.”

Hang herself had felt her body begin to react long before the smoke reached her. A layer of porous skin grew over her mouth and nose, a fleshy gas mask, though the acrid stench from both Alex’s upset and the poison Casey had spewed made her wrinkle her nose. She scrunched her eyes as they watered, and she pressed the comms to say, “It’s poison. Like tear gas.”

Rather than let her get past, Hang did her best to block Casey off. She didn’t want the girl getting past to wreak havoc on the rest of the team elsewhere.

Alex coughed again before pushing the trash can aside. Gripping the counter to pull himself to his feet, he reached above the stove, grabbing the fire extinguisher. “Hang, move aside,” he growled, pulling out the pin and leveling the nozzle at Casey.

Hang moved out of Alex’s way, tossing herself up onto a counter away from the injured girl.

Alex didn’t pause, squeezing the handle before Hang was even fully out of the way, spewing white foam at the poison user.

“Hang, Alex, what's wrong?" Joan's voice came over the comms again, this time in a concerned whisper.

“Ran into Casey and she can apparently poison people,” Hang said, her voice slightly muffled. “Alex’s taking care of her. Just keep going to the common room and tell me if anybody else pops up.”

Realizing that she had nowhere to run, Casey stumbled back with gritted teeth, bringing her free hand to her ear, revealing an earpiece that had been covered by her jet black hair. “Archer… extraction. Cover your mouth.”

Archer could not come quick enough to save her from the blasting of foam, and Casey let out an angered yell. Archer did, however, arrive momentarily after, laughing through his shirt which he had pulled over his nose. He grabbed onto Casey’s arm and flashed Alex a thumbs up. “Good job so far!” He said through the shirt, and he and Casey disappeared with a gust of wind, allowing the smoke to dissipate further.

Alex huffed, slinging the the fire extinguisher over his shoulder as he motioned towards the door. “Lets keep going, Hang,” he grumbled, still feeling bitter about the whole ‘poisoned’ stuff. Somehow, being congratulated by Archer just made him more annoyed too…

Hang, in the meantime, held back a built-up roar as Archer flashed past, and she barked into the comms, “Archer has Casey, and they could be anywhere in the compound. Watch out for them.” As well as you can, anyways. Archer could be on them before they even realize what happened.


Meanwhile, outside the common room, Austin was anything but confident. He couldn’t see Casey, and couldn’t imagine how Alex was planning on beating her, but if the protectors were willing to go so far as poison them it was troubling to say the least. Austin took a deep breath, and let go of whatever small hope for leniency he was still holding onto.

“Alright. W-we should stop stalling. Let’s, uh, get this started I guess...”

He wished he had sounded more certain than he did, but despite an uncontrollable shake in his arms, Austin managed to grip the door handle, and swing it wide open. In fact, his death-grip on the handle caused him to open it more forcefully than he had anticipated. The door bounced off the back wall with a thud, and only stopped when it swung back into his fumbling grip.

He mouthed a quick sorry to his teammates for the noise, before gesturing for Silas to go on ahead.

Everything was happening so quickly. First Joan was hearing that Casey could use poison gas and that Alex was handling her somehow, and then suddenly Archer had Casey and they could be anywhere. It reminded her somewhat of the time in the mall, although while that had been more threatening, it somehow hadn’t been nearly this tense. With a shudder, Joan looked up as Austin opened the door. It slammed into the wall, and she winced.

Great. Now we’ve lost the element of surprise, if we had it in the first place…

Breathe, Joan. Just breathe. From what I remember of the layout...Archer will have to go through the other door if he wants to get to us. And he can’t get out of the kitchen/dining hall area without going through...ah, crap.


Looking over at Austin and Silas and waving her arm at them briefly in hopes of getting their attention, she pointed at Austin’s hoodie, then pulled her own jacket up over her mouth and held it there while zipping it up. She would have to keep it there with one hand, or else it would slip off, but hopefully Austin would get the idea, at least, and Silas would have some way of protecting himself as well.

Once Silas was in, she moved in after him, keeping to the walls and waiting for Austin to bring up the rear. He would be able to provide cover in the form of his own smoke if they needed, Silas would be able to act as muscle, and she would be able to use his own powers to amplify hers and provide support.

At least...that was what was supposed to happen. But any plan, no matter how good it is, rarely survives contact with the enemy.[/hr][/hr]
 
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THE CELLS

The room stayed still as those within it began to wake. Mason stayed seated beside Crow and Leo, watching intently as he tried to recover from his self-inflicted headache. He could tell they were still in the SPME’s grasp just because of the feel of this room. The chill, sterile air and especially the fact that he knew.. There was hardly any way out.

“From what I can tell, our powers are blocked beyond this room.” He piped up, voice a little scratchy but somewhat confident. “If we can find some way to break the walls or get through the door. I can see paths... Escape routes, but I can’t see past this room.”

Taking in a deep breath, Parker stood and nodded in agreement. “He’s right. I’m sure we could bring down the walls somehow..” He blinked, taking in a breath. “My.. my name’s Parker, I can store and release electricity.” He held up his hand and let a ball of blue electricity crackle and build in his palm.

Aaron hissed as he was awoken from his slumber. Sprawled out on the couch, he turned so that his back was to the rest of the room. “I’m trying to sleep.” He growled, ignoring Leo’s gentle touches. He seemed to have no interest in sharing his abilities or even attempting to escape, more excited about his beautyrest than anything.

Willow came too in one of the dining chairs beside Parker. While he immediately left the table, she stayed in the chair, pulling her knees to her chest and surveying the room. Her eyes were narrowed and dark, gazing into space with a hopeless look in her eye.

“It’s no use.” She mumbled. “If they don’t want you to get out, then there’s no way --”

The lights flickered. Willow, startled, stopped mid-sentence and her arms fell to her sides as she stared up, watching the lights turn on and off sporadically. Mason’s heart raced in his chest, his calm whisked away by the sudden toying of the lights, until everything went completely black.

There was a familiar mechanical whir - the same sort that would bring up food in their cells every day. From out of one wall, a piece retracted and revealed a projector, though it would be hard to see unless you were directly near it, because of how dark the room suddenly became.

The projector flashed a message on the opposing wall, flickering the same way the lights had.

GET OUT

@Red Thunder @HerziQuerzi @Shizuochan @Elle Joyner @rissa @Eru

⌽​

THE PROTECTORS BASE

Silas kept silent as they moved throughout the room. He was entirely focused, lips pursed, green eyes flickering from side to side. He kept his unbandaged arm in front of him, poised like a weapon, and despite his limp he moved quietly and expertly. Though he was not the largest contributor, Silas’s skills in the battlefield were evident, even without his powers.

He seemed unbothered by the evidence that Casey had been set loose, and made no move to cover his mouth. He only followed the plan they had set, quietly heading to the common room and prepared to fend off any attack to protect his teammates.

The common room was large, perhaps the largest room in the base, littered with cozy furniture and game sets. It was often inhabited, by Archer whizzing from place to place, Jace paddle-balling, or any protector merely making conversation in their downtime. Now, though, it was uncomfortably quiet, until a strange scraping noise came, like someone shuffling among the carpet.

From behind a large cabinet appeared something very out of place; a mountain goat, monstrous in size, almost taller than the waists of a normal human being on all fours. It’s large, curling horns, resembled the ones that had rested upon Christina’s head, and it dragged its hoof across the ground like a bull preparing to charge.

And charge it did. Towards the three who had just entered, horns first.

“Out of the way! Austin, we need some cover!” Silas shouted.

(@Joan @Radio Jelly)

The path to the security room was quiet as Hang and Alex continued. Archer and Casey did not pop up, and there was no gust of wind around them to say that Archer was even spying. It was still, uncomfortably still, but they would make it to their destination.

Upon opening the security room door, they would be greeted by Jace’s smiling face. He stood with his arms outstretched with a grin that stretched far beyond his ears. “I’ve been waiting all damn day for this, and you guys are fuckin’ slow.”

With both palms facing Hang and Alex, he suddenly clenched his fists. With this movement, laughter would bubble up from the two’s mouth, laughter so strong it might make one fall to the knees and perhaps put some strain on the bladder. Jace’s eyes glowed a deep mustard yellow, the smile never ceasing as he seemed to be pulling the laughter out of his enemies relentlessly.

(@Doctor Jax @Sairento)

allyall
get out, goat, laugh!
 
.
Dakota looked around the room as the others announced their powers, and a small smile formed as she considered just what was happening. It wasn't even intentional, really... and she wasn't sure that it would even benefit them in the end, but they were organizing, and an organized group was always much harder to fight against, than one which sought anonymity. Her eyes flickered for a moment to the dark haired boy, who grunted about wanting to sleep, to the red haired girl with a similar broken look that Crow had posses. Briefly, but only briefly, did she consider that not everyone would be on board. All the needed was a few... all they needed was a plan.

"I'm Dakota!" She finally chirped, her voice brightening ever so slightly as she rose from Parker's hold to her feet, and diminutive as she was, in those few seconds she felt like a skyscraper, "And I... well, I don't really know what it is, but I guess I can't get hurt? Like... an invulnerability thing, I guess? And if I need to, I can make sure none of you get hurt, either. But I think we need to form some sort of a plan... to get out..."

Biting her lip, she looked to Parker, but as she did, the lights flickered and a small squeak truncated the momentary relief. Sinking down beside Parker again, she sought his hand in the dark and grabbed it, tightly. With another flicker, a projector hummed to life, and with the dramatic flair of a silent film, words appeared on the wall that send a shiver through Dakota.

GET OUT

Before, she had been convinced it was a trap. Now, she was certain...

"I have to go first." She whispered to Parker, "If... if it's a trap..." Rising again, blue eyes a pale grey in the scintillation of the projector, she looked around the room, her voice rising a little, "We need to get that door open, and then I can go through first. If anything is out there, it can't hurt me. I can only think of one reason they want us to leave this room, and that's to see what we can do. But I don't think they expect us to work with each other. If we do, we might have a chance to get away. So let's show them. Let's show them what we can do, but together." Her eyes moved to Crow, to Mason, then the others and she shrugged, "Better than sitting around waiting for them to throw us back in those cells, right?"
TAGS:@CloudyBlueDay || @EveryoneOnDosCouches