Sucker Punch

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Certified Subdomain
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Speed of Light
Writing Levels
  1. Douche
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences

Everyone has an angel... a guardian who watches over us. We can't know what form they'll take - one day old man, next day little girl. But don't let appearances fool you - they can be as fierce as any dragon. Yet they're not here to fight our battles... but to whisper from our hearts, reminding that it's us. It's everyone of us who holds power over the worlds we create.


In the corner of the day room, Louis sat and waited. It was 6pm and evening meds were on their way. A dinner of pre-diced spaghetti rested uneasily in his stomach and flecks of tomato sauce had repainted his pyjamas. If there was a time when he cared about his appearance, he couldn't remember it. His adult life had been spent in the grime and echoes of Lennox House. Dirty blond hair hung over his face as he sat huddled in the padded chair, staring at the back of his hands. He had his fists balled, so that the knuckles looked like faces in profile. He was pressing his hands togther, over and over... making the faces kiss.

Word had spread... or at least he hoped it had. Louis was planning an escape, and anyone who wanted in should meet him in the day room at 6pm, in the corner with the chairs. Most of his fellow inmates were too far gone... but some... a few... a tiny few... might just have gotten the message.

They would need seven items. The first was a map... and Louis knew where to find it.

And he knew how little time they had...


We can deny angels exist... convince ourselves they can't be real. But they show up anyway, at strange places and at strange times. They can speak through any character we can imagine. They'll shout through demons if they have to... daring us... challenging us to fight.


The word, when it had hit Priss's ears, had become magic. That little word had made her lungs swell with joy and she was excited to see. Though she had never met Louis, she'd heard rumors of him. It seemed that the others were scared of him, though Priss did not know why. Someone had pointed him out to Priss - she just thought that he looked sad. But then, no one had told her what Louis did to get here.

At six, in the day room, Priss had come padding in her her features aglow in excitement. She'd been here for too long, now, she thought. The walls had become boring, their blandness disgusted her now. She had finer things, elsewhere, and in other places you could change your surroundings which could not be said for the drab walls here. No painting the walls orange, no buying a green rug. It was always disgustingly white.

"Louis?" Priss whispered, her eyes flicking over the day room. She would hate it if this was some trap, if she was going to get locked away even longer for falling for this word... escape. She was wary, tentatively stepping forward just tiny paces at a time.

She could see him, clearly. She could see everything in this room without much effort, it was neither very large nor very crowded. However, her anxiety got the best of her and she was examining every hiding place for danger. Satisfied, she walked more boldly toward the man.

"Louis. I'm here."
Cloudy gray skies over a dark grey world with dark grey houses and dark grey people.

That's what Aiko imagined the outside world must be like, now that she was in Lennox House. But when she heard one patient telling another about someone planning an escape, she remembered the world before she came to Lennox. That's when she decided that she'd been in the house for too long.

And so, at 6 pm Aiko marched herself to the day room. However, when she got there, she walked in timidly. "Hello?" she whispered.
Mary wasn't quite like some of the others. She couldn't remember the world before she had arrived here at Lennox house. At this point she seemed to only remember the day she had arrived onward. But every one of those days since were seared into her brain. Other than that. . . all she ever heard or knew about the outside world was from the residents inside the Lennox House. Some of them made it sound like paradise while others had much darker stories to tell. Even still she would listen to the more 'sane' ones on the off chance it triggered a memory. After all none of the medication seemed to help. A rumor whispered in darkness inspired a different emotion however:

She had heard talk of an escape plan recently.

More than that. . . she knew there were files kept on every single inmate. Quite often orderlies got rather talkative on their breaks and just seemed to assume most of the residents were too heavily medicated to pay attention. Somehow she would find that file and find out about herself. Only then could she live with escaping out into an unknown world. But she wanted to help in the attempt to at least get a chance at freedom. . . to see if the stories were true.

Perhaps that was why she didn't shuffle along quietly or timidly. Instead, seconds after 6pm, she walked inside the day room without any fear of the world around her and sat down in one of the chairs. Eyes which refused to allow the glaze of medication to stay for long gazed toward the prime conspirator. Louis was one of the few male residents of the school. Mary had always thought this place was for girls until she laid eyes on him and a few others. But romance wasn't on her mind and it probably never would be ever. Hellholes like these weren't exactly a honeymoon suite.
Hades had got into a fight with a guard last night, it happens quite alot, but he was decided to go to the meeting.
This was no place for him, he needs to get out, he gets beatten nearly everynight, as revenge for previous fights, if he fights back the retaliation will be worse, but he can't control himself when the party starts.
But this time Hades managed to behave, even witht he therapist, so now he is with a restraint vest but he's being aloud to be around the others, that's what he needs so he can go to the meeting, he knows he might not be the bright mind to think about the master plan, but he knows how to provide a distraction and that might be a talent they need.
Louis waved the others over. They each took a seat on one of the frayed leather chairs, sitting in their particular pose, as those accustomed to the drudgery of incarceration and the company of madness. Like a broken movie reel the light beyond the windows was fading to grey and speckled black. The other inmates were heard in snatches and murmurs. It was as if their voices had departed their bodies and becoming separate prisoners, rushing in echoes around the old hallways and throwing themselves at walls.

Louis began murmuring, as if in the middle of a conversation, "... so when Hades attacked the guards last night... one of them dropped this..."

He uncrumpled a scrap of paper, smeared with dirt and spaghetti sauce, and laid it on the rickety table between them. It was a piece of a torn letter, typed in block capitals and carrying the letterhead of a company named Morpheum Industries. The print was small and detailed, a stream of psychobabble, chemical names and numbers. It had been hand signed at the bottom and the quality showed that it was a photocopy... perhaps one of many given out to the asylum staff.

"There's a new drug coming... a sedative. We're the trial..." He sat on his hands and rocked back and forth, and beneath his hanging hair Louis' gaze was fixed on the letter. "It will make us catatonic.... and it's arriving in three days."

He leaned over the table and traced a dirty finger through the dust that covered its surface. The others watched him as he wrote a word there.


"I know where to get the warden's map... We'll need it to escape."
Sitting at the table, Aiko listened to the man named Louis. Afterwards it took a while for it all to sink in. New drug. Sedative. Trial. Three days. The words rushed through her mind as she thought of the situation. They were the trial that meant...if something went wrong, they would be the victims. Nobody would care...would they? No of course not, nobody cared about them, they were the crazies. So what if some psychos went rigid?

She began to shake slightly. They really did need to get out of here.

When she read the word MAP written on the dusty table and heard Louis say that they'd need the warden's map to escape she became even more intrigued, yet wary at the same time.

"How are we supposed to get it?" she asked in a hushed whisper. "If it has anything to do with picking locks..." she began, "...We may possibly need...a hair pin or something..."

The information about the drug was not surprising to Priss, more she was just angered. It was infuriating, she thought, that these people could be so heartless, so cold. It also made Priss mad that her parents had abandoned her to this place where there was nothing approximating human compassion. There were more people gathered in the room than Priss had imagined would come and she listened intently to the items that the leader of this assortment, Louis, and one of the other members said that they would need.

A hairpin to pick locks, that would be useful, Priss supposed. With the map, they would be able to find their way around, also. These things she could reason were important. Still, Priss knew of something else that they would need. She just wasn't certain of her own words, her own voice.

"Well, we're going to need light in the dark. We'll need a flashlight."
Mary had a somewhat strange reaction to the news about using them as guinea pigs for this new drug. Perhaps it had to do with her limited perception of the right they possessed. All she could remember was life as a patient here and yet. . . some of the stories she heard made her feel entitled to something more. It wasn't about the information sinking in at all. To her the cruelty and cold-hearts actually felt strangely familiar. Rather it felt more as though each of them were probably getting what they deserved for something each of them had done in the past. Except. . . she had no clue as to what she had done to deserve ending up in Lennox House let alone end up a test subject just for someone's human testing.

In the end what made her angry about it was the fact that they would rob her of even getting to know who she had been before getting sent off into a catatonic state.

All the while her eyes and ears actually stayed rather alert in regards to what the others were saying. Mary had not gotten lost in her own little world. Not yet at least. Instead she tried to think of something that would be useful. Only she had never tried escaping from something before. . . that she could remember anyway. Everything she knew was just 'information' rather than a memory. She could name some state capitals or a movie or answer some trivial questions but she could never remember the why or the how. Frustration arose deep within everytime she realized that and it disturbed her to the point of agony.

". . . we need protection. Something to defend ourselves with. A knife or something."
The guards in the Asylum started to notice the gathering and start moving closer.
Hades who was near the guards becouse of last nights fight heard them talking to eachother about noticing a small gathering and that they were about to break it, Hades needed to do something if he wanted the others to succeed.

Hades is still somehow sedated and with the restraining jacket, he closes his eyes deep...
When he opens his eyes all as changed, it's suddenly night, his friends are dressed like gangsters inside a club, Hades is the bouncer, 2 guys well dressed want to go in, Hades knows they are undercovers, but he also knows thee rules they must obbey, there are security cameras in the club, so they can't draw guns unless he does first, He doesn't have guns, He doesn't need guns.
"Fine you can pass, if you can pass by me" he says to the cops.
He then assumes a stance with his arms behind his back saying -
"I don't even need my arms for you guys..."
The battle starts, one of the cops rises his arm to strike, but Hades delivers a fast headbutt breaking his nose sending him back, the other one calls for back up, but hades delivers a jumping kick to the intercom, the cop yells -
"Back up!!!" - some of the cars parked around opens the doors and around 8 cops come out and run into him sorrounding him...
Hades looks inside the club and see he's friends going to the parking lot - at least they are safe... - he thinks, then he charges on the cops.

In the real world Hades used a headbutt to knock one of the guards out could, the others gathered around him and beated th crap out of him, while the other prisioners scatter to avoid drawing attenction.

The meeting had met a premature end. With half the guards dragging Hades by the ankles, that left one each for the other inmates. Their arms were seized and they were pulled out of their chairs and escorted from the day room.

"Time for evening meds, boys and girls," said one of the staff. The inmates kept their heads lowered as they moved into the corridor, led along by the guards in silent consent. And behind them, leaving droplets of blood and spittle, the straight-jacketed Hades was dragged along the ground by his legs.

Again, this was his usual mode of transport.

They could already hear voices murmuring in the canteen. The other patients were gathering for their evening meds and nurses were rattling cups and shouting orders. The sound echoed down the corridor as the group were shepherded along. Louis was at the front, his body limp as a guard held him by the elbow. Only a clatter up ahead caused his eyes to focus through the locks of his greasy hair.

A janitor was mopping up a spill by the next junction, a supply closet open beside him, where other mops and cleaning fluids were stored. At the back of the tiny cupboard, Louis saw what he had seen two weeks ago, when his plan first came to him.

The map... the janitor's map... pinned to the wall behind the mops.

Louis' head twisted and he looked over his shoulder as he was dragged along, fixing eyes with each of his comrades... even the swollen, half-conscious eyes of Hades. It was a silent question, met with silent answers - a reassurance that they were with him... that they would cause the distraction that was needed.

Turning his head back, Louis closed his eyes as they passed the janitor and then.... with a breath... he whipped his arm free from the guard's grip and toppled sidewards.... falling... as if in slow-motion... towards the supply closet...

Louis watched the portcullis rise, ancient metal rolling up into the stone and shuddering like thunder. The whole dungeon shook and stale air rushed out to greet him, tussling the curls of his short, dark hair. His eyes, vibrant green, fixed ahead and from the sheathe on his back he drew his longsword, silver glinting in the lantern light.

"There," said a voice, and by the side of the portcullis a man in wizard robes turned and smiled. His staff was aglow with magic, which he had used to open the dungeon gate, and it lit the wrinkles on his face as he spoke to Louis.

"The path is clear. The passageway runs a quarter mile till you reach the Chamber of Torment. The Sorceror, Satharael, dwells inside and summons dark creatures to do his bidding. We need the Scroll of Lennox - his most powerful spell that grants the ability of planar travel. The Sorceror keeps it in the pocket of his robes. It won't be easy, and he'll have an army defending the chamber. But that's nothing you can't handle."

The Wise Man moved away from the gate controls and passed the group, examining Louis and his allies. "Remember: Music is the silence between the notes."

He walked away, with his staff tapping lightly on the floor as he left the heroes to their task. Only at the last moment did he stop and turn. "Oh, and one more thing..." He tossed a red gemstone to Priss. "That's a teleportation rune. Smash it on the ground when you've got the scroll. It will teleport you all to safety." He gave another smile.

"Good luck."

Louis gripped his sword and broke into a sprint. The alarm had been sounded and Orcs were already pouring down the passage to a clatter of rusted armour, shield and cleavers. He met them head on, leaping up and pushing off one of the walls. His longsword glinted as he crashed down into them and carved a path through the greenskin flesh.


Extending her hand fluidly to catch the glittering red gemstone, Priss had tucked the object beneath her armor and into the pocket of her clothing beneath in the time it took to blink. It would be no good if anyone were watching them and could see her stowing the gem away. Priss would have smiled back, but there were more pressing matters at hand, it seemed.

Louis lifted a longsword over his head, dashing at the hordes of Orcs that seemed to spill from every crevice. Barreling in headfirst, Louis was the first member to head into battle. Swinging her sword from its sheathe as well, though, Priss vowed to be the second. The growing level of the sound became more and more overwhelming with each noise added. The alarm was sounding, the weapons of the Orcs were clanking, and now there was the howls from the injured as Louis maimed them.

Hefting her sword with both hands, Priss lunged across the room as well to provide assistance to Louis in the fight. Her amor increased the growing din by making loud noises as the metal at her feet came into contact with the stone. The noise was a good thing for once, though, because beneath the cover of all the other sound, Priss was virtually unnoticed by the Orcs until she met them with her sword, slicing a swath through the Orcs in front of her. Still forward they surged and Priss was thankful for her amor, as she swayed from a blow to the back from one of the Orcs that glanced off her amor. The Orc met a swift end, broken by her sword.

Priss motioned that the others come along. Not all were suited for fighting. If she and Louis were to create a path for them, they would need to hurry.
Behind the two armored warriors stood a black-clad witch with silver hair that flowed to her shoulders framing an alluring face. Looking around quickly were the mismatched eyes of ruby red and dark ocean blue. Upon hearing the opponent they would face and defeat for the scroll was a Sorceror she smirked. Obviously she had absolute faith in her own magical abilities to the point of seeing this as a welcome challenge.

Grotesque green hands were all suddenly trying to grab for the dark sister at once. Making quick movements with just her left hand it looked almost as though she were doodling a symbol in the air with practiced precision. A brutish green hand grabbed her arm roughly to pull Mary away from the others. There was no way she could overpower such fearsome strength. Swords started to come down as though to ensure her fate was sealed with steel. Only inches from her body the blades were all repelled by an unseen force which made the Orcs stagger.

Now was the time to strike.

For the battle at hand she quickly waved out an enchanted staff which at first glance looked far from extraordinary. Looking to be made entirely of wood all it could claim as unique was the way it had been crafted. Words were muttered softly from pink lips as a strange green orb of light formed between the two points at the top of the staff. At first the Orcs which swarmed her from the sides appeared perfectly fine until the spell cast upon them took effect. Several of the fierce creatures suddenly turned into naught more than tiny green frogs that hopped along the floor before bursting apart in a gooey mess.

Running quickly in what were honestly less than practical leather boots, the distance closed between her and the two fighters. Somehow the witch had managed to not get a single drop of gore on her ebony attire.