Harvest Corps - Operation Bastille

[VerbalAbuse]

The Fresnes is a hole of French impatience and regression. A country of sour people and once-sweet wines. France is under a tight lockdown from its own intolerance, and now, it's invasions have brought you all here. You're here for your blood. It seems ironic that the French would look to Nazi German methods of containment and discrimination. They think they're doing something right, the gentlemen in the seat. What they've really done is just given rage time to rest and propagate. Soon, it cannot be held any longer. It's time for you to leave this place, and they can do nothing about it. Here you are.

Fresnes Prison, Val-de-Marne, France

A treble tone resounds through the hall. A young alto girl sings a song in Esperanto, a song which starts slowly, detailing sadness and hardship. She hopes to be a singer when she breaks out. It feels like the Count of Monte Cristo. As she takes her latest key out of her pocket and tries to unlock her cell once more. Of course it doesn't work. Many of these incarcerated are notorious thieves, so they only ever keep fake keys in plain sight. Nothing to pick the locks with otherwise, so even she, a Swordsinger, could not release herself. She sighed and continued her song, going on a much more vigorous tune, her lyrics speaking of release and the defeat of evil. A sharp crescendo as she sings in English "I shall be free", followed by silence. Her song turns to the happily-ever-afterness. Same tune as at the beginning. Her song ends and she sits in her cell. She's waiting for the "social blitz" to speak with her fellow conspirators about escape. It is scheduled to begin in a few hours. "Aye, Glenn," she said, her Scottish accent ringing pleasantly from her lips, "I think we might be free soon. We'll finally be able to get these bastards. I know I've said that many times before, but... I have to keep hoping."

And in a well-guarded cell, a man with thick hair is being pinned down by a pair of guards to administer his medication. "N-no, you fuckers! I won't fucking-- God--!!!" Despite his attempts, he is forcibly fed the pill and made to swallow it, but manages to bite the hand of the administering doctor before it takes effect. He has a few minutes before it kicks in, he can cause quite some damage. "Fuck you, doc!" he says as he headbutts the doctor, before getting his arm out from underneath a guard, and quickly materializing a piece of cyber armor on his arm to punch the other guard of his arm and elbow the first in the face. Of course, it only lasts a few seconds and he quickly brandishes a shiv made from stone, blocking the door of the cell. "Not one more time, you goddamn drug-pusher!" He lunges at the doctor, stabbing him in the chest, and gouging out one of his eyes. "You're never putting me on that shit again, do you hear me!?" The doctor's screaming resounds through the hall. A guard tries to fight the psychotic blindman off the doctor before getting bashed in the face once more. "Sit down, fucknuts, you're next!" This simple threat from a known psycho causes the guard to make a break for it, but he is hit in the spine by a thrown shiv. "I told you to sit the fuck down! Now you can't get up!" He laughs maniacally and gouges out the doctor's other eye, rendering him blind. He gets up and goes to slay the guard, who is squirming on the ground, now paraplegic. "You should've listened to me, I would've let you live!" The psycho feels himself getting weaker and quickly ends the guard's life before turning back to the doctor. "You will never work again." The doctor left with stab wounds punched straight through his wrists. The psychotic Welshman has calmed down from the medication, and the doctor will not be working ever again.

 

[Miss Flufferbutt]

Screams echoed through the halls, the halls Eveline had come to call home. Almost ten years she had been there, and so it seemed appropriate, as it also seemed that she would never escape. No one would ever escape. For all of everyone's strength, they were powerless, always one step behind the guards. She puzzled over that fact. How could that be? Superior strength, stealth, skill, and even magic, that which no mere human had, meant nothing here except for the occasional disturbance. She herself had attempted escape when she first arrived, throwing everything she could at the guards, and yet it was to no avail. She frowned and shook her head, hoping to clear it. Thinking did no one any good around here. It just exacerbated the futility of their existences. She sighed and trailed a finger through the air, channeling her magic to create small flames where her finger went. They went out after just a second, and it reminded her of sparklers. Oh, how she missed so many things, most of them very simple. Like a real shower, with hot water and milk and honey-scented body wash and leisure time.

With these thoughts running through her head, Eveline felt a surge of energy. Usually this was accompanied by an escape attempt, which she hadn't tried in a few years. She tried to suppress it, but to no avail; in a flash, she found herself rising, righteous anger coursing through her. She cupped her hands together, creating a bowl for power to pool into to create fire. Her anger seemed to fuel the flames until they rose above her hands. She quickly put her hands around a metal bar and compressed her hands to create a smaller space in which to focus the magic. Time was what she needed, and then she would have a bar loose, but time was never what they got. After a short minute, a guard rounded the corner. Seeing the light from her magic, he smirked and strolled over. "No..." she whispered, dropping her hands but keeping a part of her mind focused on the magic, keeping it ready. He flicked the bar she had been heating and grinned. "Tryin'a escape? I dun' think so, girly," he said. Quicker than she realized, he reached between the bars, smacking her under the jaw with a nightstick. She cried out and stumbled backwards, out of the man's reach. She had been expecting him to enter the cell to give her a beating, not that. He laughed and sauntered off, giving her a cheeky little wave. "Just my luck, getting a clever guard," she muttered, spitting blood from where she bit her tongue. She sat at the edge of her cell, waiting for another opportunity.