The Facility

[Bitterblue]

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.

 

[Bitterblue]

((@Soulserenity20 @Sketchris Inkpun POOOOST XD))

 

[Soulserenity20]

Welcome-Home

Gabriel sat on a pathetic excuse for a bench within a cramped kennel, as they were called by the locals. In his hand he held a ballpoint pen and a scrap of paper he had managed to snatch from a disposal bin during his last transport. Scrawled all over the tiny scrap were words that would make no sense to anyone but Gabriel and the man who had driven the transport truck. The man was lucky the drive came to an end when it did, for if Gabriel had been given just a few more minutes to spend in proximity to the driver, he would have been halfway across the country by now instead of sitting in a receiving dock at the back of another facility. The driver was new. Gabriel knew this not only from the man's constant concern and paranoia, but by the fact that he had failed to properly seal the sliding window that separated himself from the kennels in the back. It was this mistake that could have cost the man hist job, possibly his life, and Gabriel's freedom.

The words meant nothing now, for it was unlikely he would ever see the driver of the transport again. They were getting good at moving him, and it was about time too! Over the last 6 years Gabriel had almost escaped 32 times because of mistakes by the workers. Forgetting to set their timers for how long they could be near Gabriel, forgetting to keep not mention any personal details to their co-workers when on the late night watch shifts in Gabriel's hall. The human mind was a book, difficult to read, but even more difficult to keep closed. Regular people had no knowledge of how to close off their mind from the prying inquiries of those who liked to read...

A loud tussle in the receiving hall drew his attention away from his thoughts. Thoughts were being pushed all about through the air, most indecipherable, some loud and clear, none useful. But nonetheless, he began to read. As he did he wrote down the words on whatever empty space was left on the scrap of paper. It was the head scientist whose thoughts were being read at that time, for Gabriel knew when a powerful opportunity presented itself and wouldn't give up the opportunity to steal details that could one day lead him to cracking the code of the man's mind. If Gabriel had access to the extend of Chris's mind, no one in the entire chain of facilities would be able to find him again. But of course this didn't last long. The scientist was trained in mind shrouding and he didn't stick around for very long.

There was a girl... well, more than a girl, but a girl by nature he believed. She appeared to be more of an angel than anything, and not just through her beauty and her strong mind. Upon peering through the slats in the kennel's door, he saw a slender woman with the most incredible mutation Gabriel had ever seen; the girl had majestic, titanic wings protruding from her back. The great appendages were bound by restraints but the thick leather binds could be seen straining under the powerful flexes of the girl's wings.

Incredible. He thought to himself, but before he could get a chance to gaze more into the details of the woman, she was tucked away down a hallway leading to the facility cells. Eventually Gabriel would be placed in a cell of his own down the same hall, that is, if the fools called staff in this place ever got around to completing his transport.

Sighing at the realisation that he'd likely be there a while longer, Gabriel began adding the four words he had stolen from the scientist's mind to his story within his mind and went to work at piecing together the jumbled puzzle that was Chris's mind. One day, one day he'd discover the key and Chris would be his puppet.

 

[Sketchris Inkpun]

Ziiklara never quite felt compelled to answer personal questions. This was mainly due to how she found she was often surrounded by telepaths who would have less than any trouble gathering those thoughts from her head. At the very smallest times, it was convenient; speaking without words, though other times it was intrusive and maddening. In 317 years of living she had developed her own philosophy; that secrets equated themselves to highest treasures----and no amount of needle poking or loud creatures would take that from her.

The creatures were familiar but different. They were plantigrade and stood upright like most of the Guardians on any Island, but they were not like conchettians that had horns and rough patches of skin on their backs. They didn't look much like the Janirosk who were stark white and had skin like clay. They were far from resembling any Eisa, which had wings and large horns and were covered in thick natural armor. These creatures were simple; their skin was soft, sometimes spotted, and found in various shades of earth. These particular people were very loud. The only baffling thing was that they spoke the language of Conchetti, which she now presumed was in a now separate universe.

Coping with the noise from the bellowing creatures became quickly tedious but eventually evolved into somewhat of a game. Conchettian language was nothing unfamiliar. She knew her second language front and back. Though when she realized they knew nothing of her, she replied to each question in her own native tongue of Refaquee in a concerned sort of manner. Her entire demeanor was faked, deciding to put her theatre skills to practice. Her panic-strung replies given in her language were actually cheap one-liners she had read in a book back at home. While she imagined saying I don't know, I was only just dragged here! she had actually spoken in her language the sentence "I never forget a face, but in your case I'd be glad to make an exception!" She secretly thought it slightly juvenile, but as the people with pens scribbled down her phonetic language in vain hope of deciphering it, their clueless faces tempted a chuckle.

She faded into a silent, solid statue-like demeanor once her little game lost its fun. Her posture straightened, her small fingers at her wing joints folded neatly on her lap allowing her wings to lay droopily at her sides, and she stared straight ahead without blinking. As the bellowing continued to escalate, Ziiklara allowed her mind to wander to different places.

She remembered being thrown into the truck after she had been captured from behind. She remembered how before that, her good friend Speo had brought her to this wasteland to meet someone new. She remembered how there was no one, and how Speo ventured slightly in search for the stranger just before Ziiklara was captured. His cries of surprise followed by the sound of an explosion still echoed in her mind. She heard him teleport as soon as the other men had tried to capture him as well, so she knew he was at least alive. The thought of betrayal crossed her mind, though in partial disbelief. Speo was a friend for centuries.

Ziiklara's position was all too familiar. The questions, the needles, the testing, the unnecessary force used to restrain her. Her left wing's feathers were broken at the tip, and although she could see them start to regenerate, flying any time soon would prove as difficult. The only difference between now and then was that these people were not from her world. They didn't know how to start experimenting on a nature they hardly understood. Their questions were far too simple to be taken seriously.

Her thoughts were broken at the sound of the door outside opening. Another subject had entered. She deduced that the subject was male, due to the grunting sounds as the people had pushed him forward. He was awfully silent otherwise. She broke her statue-like demeanor by moving her eyes in the direction of the noise. A telepath? She didn't very well know how she knew this, nor did she know it was entirely true. Since she was previously surrounded by telepaths, she assumed that she had caught onto their nature versus the natures of non-telepathic creatures. Still, the thought intrigued her; a telepath, in this strange realm. It somehow felt less lonely. She even gained a small seed of hope as she heard the subject being thrusted into the cell beside hers. And through the annoying onslaught of questions still asked, she allowed herself to crack somewhat of a smile.

 

[Bitterblue]

Kylara eventually settled down, her bound wings were causing her a significant amount of pain. She flexed her wings again, trying to break, or at least loosen them. She didn't succeed at anything but causing herself even more pain. While it looked like she was relaxed, in reality she was planning an escape. They had made a mistake: they didn't bind her hands or her feet when they left. It gave her a significant advantage, since she knew they probably still attempted to sedate their victims before they dragged them off to their unpleasant fate.

She sat there and stewed for a bit. Longing for the open air, for this closed room made her sick. Claustrophobia had been a big phobia in her life, and it hadn't diminished, it had grown. She imagined what she would do to the lead guy-She wondered if it was still Chris- when she got free. Probably give him a taste of his own medicine. Trap him, and inject him with who knows what. She strained against the bonds, causing her some pain, but with each flex it was getting slightly looser.

She sat against a wall, and looked around her temporary residence. At least she wasn't in a dog crate, but a small cell this time. Well, she had gotten a bit larger since the last time she was here. And there was a small window connecting the cells, probably for air flow. She walked over, and laid down, sticking her face to the window. What she saw was very pleasing to the eyes. A very handsome man, long blonde-brown hair, blue eyes. And from the looks of it, pretty tall.

"Hello. How long have you been in this hell-hole?" she said bluntly. With any luck, he may be able to stick his hands through the bars and loosen her binds to allow her to open her wings.

​