OOC thread The scientists half dragged, half carried the living statue, who they called subject 17, back to her cell. She was too big, or too fragile to be stuffed in a giant dog crate like several other subjects. The lead scientist, Chris was his name, jotted down some notes. Subject wasn't one of the ones who was being injected with the serum, just being studied. She was made of a grainy material, like sand. They dropped her on the floor and turned around, locking the door behind them. Chris walked to the cell next door, containing a few very large dog crates. He walked over to one that contained one Gabriel Rothman. He was in the process of unlocking the door, a sedative ready, when a fellow scientist tapped him on the shoulder. "I think we have finally located subject Zero. She has been hiding from society, all this time." Nodding, Chris sent him on his business. Finally! Five years, and she was finally discovered! Chris got out his radio. "Recovery team to briefing room in an ten minutes." Chris relocked the door and headed to the briefing room himself. It's about time! After bringing the team up to date, they set out immediately. Heading out immediately, Chris and his team headed for the house on the secluded mountain, the chopper making a loud Thwop thwop noise. *~*~*~*~*~*~*Kylara was on the way back home from the store, after a certain encounter with an odd creature. One who talked funny, who had managed to get to her without even seeming to try. She shook her head. He was gone, probably not to return. She entered the house, dumped the bags on the floor, and shrugged off the jacket that was suffocating her. She hung it up on the edge of the closet door, not wanting to actually take the time to hang it up and put it in the closet. It was time for her to stretch her wings. She went up the stairs, to the top story and climbed up onto the roof, about 3 stories up. She shrugged off her shirt, leaving only a tight cami with huge slits in the back to make room for her wings, and her sports bra. Stretching her gorgeous wings to their full 18 foot wingspan. Looking at her wings, Dark brown on top, lightening as they go down, and her plume feathers were pure white. She ran a series of tests through her wings, twitching several feathers, sending ripples through the strong muscles in her back and her abdomen. Satisfied, she took a running start and jumped off the building, head first. Twirling in dramatic circles with her wings outstretched, Kylara pulled up at the last moment, her wings filling with air. Gliding ten feet off the ground, Ky surged upward with a flap of her wings. Grinning, Kylara laughed. This was the only thing that could coax a smile from her. The only thing in the world that made her happy: flying. Ever since Mark took her from the institute, and left her on her own, Kylara had been fantasizing about destroying the place that took her life. She thought about tracking down her real parents...but then again, she didn't even know her own real name. Kylara was a name she picked out for herself when she was old enough to make a decision like that. She wondered what her parents were doing. Were they looking for her? Were they still wondering what happened to her? It was then that she heard the Thwop Thwop Thwop. She whirled her head around, seeing a chopper nearly on top of her, a gun aimed at her neck. Damn! She had been so lost in thought, so careless, that they had finally found her. Well, she wouldn't go without a fight. She poured on the speed, whirling around in a circle and heading straight for the chopper. It was then that she poured on the power she knew she had, but feared to ever use it for the consequences. She gasped loudly as her eardrums burst. She went supersonic speed. Blood seeped from her ears as the miles flew by. But she couldn't escape. For just 5 miles out, another chopper was waiting for this very thing to happen. Before she knew it, a net was dropped on her, and she fell to the ground, a good 500 feet up. Before she landed, the rope cinched tight, closing her in the net, and was carried under the chopper. She reached for the dagger in her boot, but only felt an empty sheath. Her knife must have fallen out in the struggle. She twisted and turned, but each movement wrenched her wing. She was forced to just sit there, waiting to arrive at the place of her nightmares. The Facility. *~*~*~*~*~* Chris couldn't believe he had actually done it. They had caught Subject Zero. The one he had been searching for for about 5 years, since she had mysteriously disappeared. As suspected, she had inherited a flight enhancement. They had spread out in a circle, and coordinated enough to know when to drop the net. Now they were a few minutes out, and a team was on the ground waiting for their arrival. Meanwhile Kylara started to panic. She started to hyperventilate despite the measures she took to avoid that. How could she be so reckless? They soared over the mountain and the dreaded facility came into view. She started struggling again, this time with no care to the pain it caused. She thrashed violently, loosening the ropes binding her to the chopper. But it was to no avail, they had set down. As soon as she hit solid ground, she planted her feet, and tore the Net off her. She couldn't hear anything, because her eardrums burst when she went supersonic. But that wouldn't last more than a few hours, maybe a day. As soon as the net was off her, hands grabbed her. Multiple hands, and she screamed and thrashed. But to no avail. She was dragged kicking and screaming into a room, and shoved into a dog crate. "Screw you, you bastards! You have no right to do this! You monsters, let me go!" she paid no attention to the attractive man in the crate next to hers. She rocked the crate back and forth, but only succeeded in knocking hers and the mans next to hers down. In the cell next door The scientists were at it again. After a several hour recess, they decided to do more research, but in the cell this time. They injected her with needles, but to no avail. The creature called herself Ziiklara, but they called her Subject 17, without heed. "Where are you from, since you're obviously not from here?" they asked for about the hundredth time.