# Heart of Darkness RP Thread [CthulhuTech]



## Watchman (Oct 4, 2010)

It was Summer, supposedly. By the standards of the region, that meant hot crisp days and humid nights, but the Arcology containing the Aegis Compound was set to weather patterns more familiar to a European than a native of southern Africa - one of the Commander's quirks.

Not that many would complain - the relatively cooler temperature of a European Summer made work far easier than slaving under a hot African sun every day. That said... Major Kurt Veneg glanced at his itinery again for what must have been the tenth time that day. He wasn't looking forward to any of the visitors the compound was due to receive today. The Loveless girl was bad enough - she must have had some pull with the government to be allowed to visit her father, and someone with that level of influence was always a bit nerve-wracking, but by itself manageable.

Having a visit by another Major from R&D, and that guinea-pig of a soldier she was bringing along with her on the same day? That was enough to almost make him sweat, despite the weather in the arcology being relatively mild. At least it should all be over soon enough, and then he could get back to business as usual.

----

Level 3 of the Aegis Compound was where they kept the most monstrous inmates, usually under heavy sedation on a weekly rotation, and firmly locked away in their cells. Most inmates here were powerful para-psychics or sorcerers, but there were a few that were just non-human. Gr'b was one of these. The ghoul flattened its ears against its skull, and sniffed at the air. Oh. _Oh._ It shuffled further away from the door of its cell. It had smelt something, something familiar and terrifying, and it did not stop shivering until the scent had begun to fade.

This was not good. Not good at all. It had wondered before what could be worse than imprisonment here. Now it had found an answer.


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## Damaris (Oct 4, 2010)

Rika ignores the fine droplet of sweat beading down the side of her face. The air in the skycar is stifling, especially with the uniform she's been finagled into (a nasty military issue outfit designed to impress when she and the Major make their entrance, but Rika only notes how the heavy cloth will hamper her movements and slow her in the event of a fight), but she's faced greater discomforts, in the course of her conditioning. And besides, this might be a test. So she remains motionless and silent, her hands folded in front of her, until the Major addresses her directly. 

Rika considers her answer carefully before speaking. Conversation was not one of the skills impressed upon her, but she doesn't want to disappoint her handler with an unsatisfactory response. She breaks the sentence down: the scorn at the words "toy soldiers", the indication of the possibility of losing face. With these factors considered, she finally responds:

"I have surpassed all the challenges given to me prior to this and will approach this mission with the same expectation of success. I won't--I refuse to let you down."


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## Kei (Oct 4, 2010)

Ashe made her way though the regualr security, who the hell they thought she was? To let them touch her was an honor, they had to be smart, beautiful, and among anything know whose boss. Ashe was suppose to see her darling father today, damn fool couldn't keep his hands out of the cookie jar and had to be caught by the law. The security guards that worked there held had regard to who she was as they escorted her to her fathers prision cell. 

One girl couldn't keep her mouth shut and the other, ugh, if it wasn't for his cute face, she would slash him up, but then his blood would get all over her and mess up the beautiful dress she was wearing. "My lady, this way, are you sure you want to see him?" the lady officer asked yet again, Ashe rolled her eyes and flipped her blue hair back and answered

"Of course, he is my father..." Ashe said but then she mumbled,"To my misfortune~"


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## skiboydoggy (Oct 5, 2010)

He was starting to waste away in this pathetic excuse for a cell. There were dog houses that were more spacious than this. Of course, human rights had all gone to hell along with the rest of the world, so it was not like there was anything he could do about it except wait out his jail term and hope that there was a place in this world where he could hide from the stigma that had surely been placed upon him. A deserter, a disgrace that would never go away, the mark of a coward that would follow him for life, and nobody wanted a coward. Never mind that he had fought with valour up to that point, never mind that he had done it because his commander was too stubborn to order a retreat. That was the lot he had chosen and he would pay for it by rotting in this little casket of a cell.

The light sputtered out, and Mikhail was forced to pull himself out of his depressed revelry. It was not completely unheard of for there to be blackouts in this place, shithole that it was, but it was still rare enough for anybody who still wanted to live to sit up and take notice. Granted, the roof was too low to even sit up straight, so he made do by cranking his neck up and listening. For a long time - or perhaps only a few seconds that seemed like forever - there was nothing. Then, a soft click, and the cat flap that they tried to pass off as a door swung open. That was strange. Unprecedented even. There should be no way for the doors to ever open by themselves, and he had not heard any guards come by. Nevertheless, an open door meant a chance for him to stretch his limbs, and if it was some kind of eldritch abomination trying to eat all of them that killed the lights and opened the doors, he needed to be on his feet to run like hell.

So he slid himself out of his cell, because there was no space to walk or even shuffle, and started stretching every muscle in his body the moment he hit the ground. Then, satisfied with the state of his body, though he was sure he used to be tougher than that, he started to look around him, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.


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## Chaos (Oct 6, 2010)

The feeling wouldn't go away. Barafu rolled over in his 'cell'. He hated the fact that he couldn't even stand up in this fucking place. He had decided his cell was more like a holding bottle, and he had long since gotten enough of the feeling of being a bottled ship just displayed for fun. But this other feeling... Something was not right. Just something, somewhere, somehow was not right at all. And joy of joys, the lights were off now too. He guessed it was better than the fucking flickering they'd done before, but not even being able to see the inside of his pod wasn't wholly satisfying either.

And why wouldn't that fucking ghoul shut up? The creature 'next door' had never been a silent inmate, but now it was wailing like there would be no tomorrow. Barafu knew ghouls had some sort of sixth sense for trouble, like dogs that started to bark just before earthquakes. Coupling that to his own restless feeling, the idea that trouble was coming was only heightening. Even if he didn't take that in count though, the wailing was fucking annoying without any doubt.

The cell door creaked open. Barafu opened his eyes wide. What in the nine- It had been weeks since he'd been last able to get some fresh air, and never before had the doors just opened. He got ready for a gas cloud. This was probably just a way for the guards to entertain themselves. Make shit seem weird, then open the doors and when the prisoners thought they could actually leave, blast them down with sedative and maybe a stun bullet. Barafu held his breath. He couldn't really see what was going on outside his cell, but he didn't see any silhouettes or anything indicating there were guards up and around. He could hear the ghoul wailing even louder and moving around though. What was going on here?

Barafu slowly moved to the front of his cell and peered out. Nothing. No one in the dim corridors. He slowly slid from his cell. It was three high and quite impossible to get out from without making a nice thump on the floor. He contemplated for a second. Ah hell. Barafu made a nice thump on the floor and for the first time in a few weeks stood on his feet again. He looked around. Nothing. No one. He concentrated and tried to reach for his telepatic powers. Fucking sedative. They had locked it away good, bringing him back to the state of a normal practicioner. After some agonizing seconds, he could read thoughts again. It was all basic stuff, but it'd have to do. He concentrated and tried to find out what the other prisoners around here were thinking about...


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## skiboydoggy (Oct 6, 2010)

So his was not the only door that had opened. That made sense. There was no reason why he would be the only one that got a free walk. On the other hand, this was still a prison, and it would be idiotic to expect anyone in here to be nice. So if he wanted to keep his head on tight, he was going to have to take some precautions. First of all, it was probably for the best if he got his hands on a weapon. A gun would be preferable, but he would make do with a stick if he had to, and the place most likely to have any such item would be the guard station that was strangely devoid of guards. It was not as though Mikhail ever really knew what the guards did when he was in his cell, but common sense dictated that there would always at least be somebody keeping watch at all times. Then again, common sense did not always apply in this messed up world.

Mikhail casually walked towards the guard station, knowing that he would only be attracting attention if he ran. As he walked, he watched the other prisoners carefully. There were a group of Engel pilots huddled together, though he had no idea what Engel pilots were doing anywhere off the front lines, and there was a man that he vaguely recognised as a thief of some kind. None of them were liable to be particularly dangerous, but it was best for him to remain on guard. There was no guessing what these people could pull off, especially in the confusion that would surely be brought on once everyone figured out that they were basically free to do whatever they want. There was no place in the universe where the guards could restrain the guarded once they were given the freedom to stretch their limbs and organise themselves. The place would definitely be becoming some kind of hell on Earth soon.

Once he reached the guard station, Mikhail quickly ducked into it and poked around, looking for anything that he could use.


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## skiboydoggy (Oct 6, 2010)

Blood. There was no soldier in this world that would not be able to recognise it. The red, the stickiness, the smell of iron lingering in the air. Mikhail was no forensic scientist, but he could tell that a guard had died here. Recently, and violently. It was a good thing that he had came here first then. There was no guarantee that whatever had slaughtered his captors was particularly discriminating, and he might very well be the next on its list. The last thing he wanted was to be in a situation where he had no idea what was going on, ignorant and unarmed as someone or something started a bloodbath.

First of all, weapons. There was a pistol underneath the security console with a few ammo magazines, probably dropped when the guards faced whatever it was that killed it. A quick check showed that the pistol was working just fine, but there was the slight problem of him having nowhere to holster it. Even if the safety was on, Mikhail still did not feel comfortable stuffing a gun down his pants, so he turned towards the lockers, where the guards presumably kept their extra weapons, armour, and clothing. There were a number of them, but the one on the left caught his eye. There was a little trickle of blood seeping out, and it did not take a genius to guess what was inside.

Heaving a sigh, Mikhail opened the locker, pistol at the ready.


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## Damaris (Oct 6, 2010)

As the Major tidied herself up for their emergence from the skycar, Rika did the same, wiping away the thin trail of sweat from her forehead and pushing her hair behind her shoulders. She couldn't shake the small nip of frustration at having to do so though; it was understandable that uneducated civilians might hold appearance in high regard, and she would never not see the importance of military regalia as an important intimidation factor when confronting the enemy or flaunting one's power, but it was slightly ludicrous that soldiers within the same organization would judge each other based on social presentation and not strength and loyalty. Well, she'd have to adjust. Rika's handlers had told her that people outside the lab, even NEG soldiers, would not think like she could, and her handlers always---well they didn't always tell the truth, not if they were conducting a test, but they were always right.

Her eyes flickered over the welcoming scene. Lax security. Her mouth twisted up in a sneer before she could control her features to an expression of blank tranquility. Even if this wasn't a prison on the frontlines, it still held enemies of NEG, and the guards shouldn't shirk their duties. She clasped her hands behind her back to lessen their craving for the heavy solid weight of her guns. There would be time for that, later.


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## Kei (Oct 6, 2010)

Ashe, sighed they had finally made it to her father prison cell, oh how she dreaded the moment she had to talk to the fool. Even though they controlled more then half of everything that runs in this God forbidden city, he still found a way to humiliate or degrade himself. She was always the saving grace, the one who did things behind the scene to make sure a mission is carried out to it fullest and best. She was the one who saved the family from dying out like cockroaches when the shit hit the fan! She was! Not that bumbling fool that was locked away for God knows what! Not the fool she was suppose to call father...

Ashe was raised to be the best of the best for her mother sake, her mother who was brutally torn away from her, to make sure she lived a longer and better life. And that what Ashe strived for, out of all the kids her father had, she was the best! She was the one who aced every exam, the one who easily took on sword to sword combat, she was the one who showed those fools! Ashe wanted to hurt something, but that was going to degrade her statue of pretty little princess to her lovely viewers. She watched as the male officer put in the code for her father prison cell, he lived rather comfortably for a man behind bars, he had luxury that no one else had and no one else will ever have, at least he knew how to take care of himself without her being around...

"Good Afternoon Father.." she addressed him


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## skiboydoggy (Oct 8, 2010)

It was a body. Mikhail knew it even before he saw it. What he did not expect was the body still being alive. A female guard with most of her left leg gone, hacked off relatively cleanly. She landed face first in the thin film of blood and pushed herself aside, coughing and sputtering as she unsuccessfully tried to get the blood off her face. No wonder: her hands and sleeves were covered with blood from when she tried to stem the blood loss from her injury after all. She gave up in due time before finally catching on to the fact that she was not alone, but by the time she was done gawking and reached for the pistol on her hip, Mikhail already had his own gun trained on her skull.

"Go ahead then, _convict_. Finish me off." She managed to spit when she accepted that she had lost the quick draw, the revulsion and hatred she managed to put into those words unparalleled. That was the kind of hate that was normally reserved for Migou, but it was no time to psychoanalyse.

"If only you were that lucky. Killing helpless women is tasteless even for me. Besides, I need you alive." Mikhail chuckled darkly as he turned back to the lockers, opening all of them in search of better equipment and a first aid kit. He was going to need something better than the cloth of their clothes if he was going to stop her from bleeding out on him, and he definitely wanted her to stay alive. At least until he found out what the hell was going on.


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## Damaris (Oct 9, 2010)

Rika tried not to be unsettled by the Commander's words: regardless of his rank, her handler was always first in her eyes, and she knew that the Major believed in her. And she had been told to expect situations like this, even if the focus had been more on civilians and non-combat personnel. Rika was change, was the future, and there would always those afraid of the coming wave, her trainers had told her. The only way to deal with it, the only proper way, would be to ignore them and surpass them. As she had been taught. As had been embedded in her bones: the ability to strive on where others wouldn't, where others would break, where others would falter.

But even as these thoughts flickered through her (Rika would never be able to articulate them; they were barely half-formed in her own mind. The ability to communicate was simply not one that had been pressed upon her.) Rika felt her ears ring sharply. Her skin prickled. Instinct was often the force that marked the line between survival or extinction, and Rika followed hers without hesitation. Rika's hands fell to rest on her guns as she turned around (although she was sure to keep her body between the Major's and the space behind her); if need be, she could dodge or draw the weapons in under a second. If need be.


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## Pintsize (Oct 9, 2010)

*James "Jimmy" Idaho*

There was a click, too silent to be heard behind the triple plated glass of prison doors. But the opening of so many cells, steel doors slamming open into the quiet night, was enough to startle the guard on duty.

'Shit!' The curse was immediate, visceral. Not only because warden Sally Alveraz had  no idea what was going on, but as she stood up she dumped an entire cup of piping hot coffee into her crotch. After a few seconds of panicked dabbing, Sally looked up. There were at least thirty prisoners standing around blinking outside their one person prison cells. Alveraz grabbed her piece and walked out the door.

'Stand down! Back in your cells, now!' There had never been any training for this kind of situation, but Alvarez was born for this line of work. Prisoners, assaulted first with bright lights, and then the muzzle of a loaded gun, began to file back into their cells. All except one. It was the thirty-second cell from her block, James Idaho. He was standing in the middle of the hall and scratching his head.

'I'm sorry, ma'am. The door shut on me. Would you open it?' As Alveraz approached, she waved him closer to the wall, to go into prone position, and he moved slowly.

'Move--' Alveraz's words, initially coming out at a controlled pace, stopped dead when Idaho did begin to move--up his closed door and across the ceiling. When his foot left the ceiling and came down on her gun hand, she dropped it.

Almost leisurely, he bent to pick it up. 'Now, ma'am, I'm not much of a shot. But at this range, even I can't miss.' Jimmy Idaho pointed the piece in Alveraz's direction, and then back towards her office. 'Let's get going, now. I have some questions I'd like to ask you.'

They made a slow pace back to the office while Idaho kept the gun to Alveraz's back. When she opened the door, Idaho motioned to a chair. 'Sit.' 

She sat, and Idaho found tied her hands and legs to the chair with spare uniforms that were lying under the desk. 'I'm sorry about this, but if I didn't do it, I doubt we could act like civilized people and have a conversation. What's your name, ma'am? I'm Jimmy Idaho.'

'You're a criminal.'

'That's why it's called acting, ma'am.' Jimmy leaned on one of Alveraz's tied up hands, tipping the chair ever so slightly.  

'S-Sally Alveraz. Pleased to meet you.'

'Now, Sally, as the calvary isn't coming yet, I'm assuming you didn't sound an alarm?'

'No. I didn't.'

'Excellent. I'll try to make this quick, because I don't think this is going to work out pleasantly for you. I have three questions, we'll go one at a time. First question: how do I get out of here?'

'I-' Sally hesitated, and Idaho put his hand on the arm of the chair again. 'There should be a map on the desk.'

'Ah, so there is! Thank you, Sally. Second question: where should I look to find my things from when I was first incarcerated?'

'There should be a locker room on the first floor. That's where most of the prisoner's things go.'

'Thank you again. I'll have to see if I can find mine. Now, one last question, and this may sound odd: if I were looking for my criminal record, where should I look? I'm not exactly sure what I was turned in for, you see.'

'Long life of crime?'

'Something like that.' For the briefest moment, Idaho's face darkened. 'Now, if you wouldn't mind, Sally.'

'You can't get it.'

'Do you mean it's not here?'

'Yes.' Idaho's hand was again on the arm of her chair. 'It's on level zero! There's mechanized personnel down there. Powered armor units. All the human muscle in the world won't get you anywhere.' There was a pack-minded, predatory grin on the face of Sally Alveraz. 'Go ahead and try it, Jimmy.'

'Thank you, Sally. You've been a big help. I have only one thing left to do.' Sally buckled a bit as the pistol came against her cranium, and lost consciousness. With patient curiosity, Jimmy headed deeper into the bunker, to see what he could find.


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## Pintsize (Oct 10, 2010)

*James "Jimmy" Idaho*

'JAMES "JIMMY" IDAHO WILL BE FREE BY MIDNIGHT'

The image came and went in Jimmy's head, like the lights of passing cars through slatted windowpanes. The matte of black paint would stand out best against the metallic prison doors, and the message would invoke some satisfying situational irony. But these lockers held no paint.

After fishing an identification card off of Alveraz, Jimmy was pleased to find that there was unisex body armor, first aid kids, _and_ an empty backpack. There were several stun batons and side arms as well, all well kept and maintained. Jimmy grabbed the armor, a first aid kit, the backpack, and a baton, but he almost felt like putting the gun back in the locker: he barely knew how to use one. Still, he might need it, he decided. It seemed his prison block was by far the most peaceful.

Through the monitors he could see the war zone that used to be the prison. There were bodies, mostly guards, everywhere. And blood. He had memorized which monitors were the most gruesome in case Sally woke up. If he showed her those, hopefully she would want to get out of here as badly as he did, even if it was with his help.

'Speaking of which...' Jimmy did a quick check to understand the locking mechanism of the door. Key swipe access from the black panel near the door handle. It would be good to do some recon soon, but before he would risk his life out there, Jimmy decided it would be best to see if there was a safer way to get a grip on his surroundings.

Checking the comm panels, he was pleased to find that there were several stations available to contact. He reached for the nearest panel and opened a channel.


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## Azure Flame Fright (Oct 11, 2010)

Rodrigo stirred slightly in his sleep, it was rare for him to move around in his sleep. The years he spent sleeping in this small cell trained his body to avoid movement since it would only cause him to push against the very solid walls of his personal prison. Perhaps he stirred because his cell door had swung open and the solid door he would often push his head against was gone, regardless the small movement sent his head past the threshold where his cell door would have been. 

"Ow!" Rodrigo's head fell out of his cell and bumped into the solid wall that separated him from the next floor. He was definitely awake now. For a moment Rodrigo was in a good deal of pain, the next he was surprised to see that every prisoner's door was open. 

Usually the guards would've woken him up when they let the prisoner's out, but Rodrigo could easily accept that he was left in his cell without being awoken. Rodrigo got down from his cell using the ladder, making his way to the stable floor before looking around.


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## skiboydoggy (Oct 11, 2010)

It was probably a bad idea to have turned his back on the guard, but it was not as though Mikhail had much of a choice. The lockers were the place most likely to hold what he needed, and he was standing in between them and said guard. In any case, he knew that he could trust his instincts when it came to situations like these. The reason he had survived all his battles even though he was still very much a rookie, was because his gut always worked on overdrive, and he had always simply known when an attack was coming. Apparently not everyone felt the flow of battle the way he did, but then again everybody had different gifts. He was not especially fast, his memory was good but not perfect, and he was neither particularly strong nor charismatic. Instead, he simply knew where danger came from.

As he searched the lockers, he found another pair of CS-40 pistols and a stun baton with half an arm attached (with a few fingers on the floor). Apparently, the woman shuffling around behind him was not the only person who had been attacked that day, but she was the only one here who had survived. It made sense in hindsight. There were four lockers, so there should have been four guards on duty as well. Where the others were right now, Mikhail could venture a guess. Only one woman left alive as the others were taken by something that they could not possibly fight against and hope to survive. Amusing, if a bit depressing. Grabbing the weapons and the holsters from the guard's uniforms, Mikhail turned back to face the guard with something approaching bemusement on his face.

"Let's not go anywhere now, you'll just kill yourself if you try to move."


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## Pintsize (Oct 11, 2010)

*James "Jimmy" Idaho*

Static fuzzed on the monitor and gradually cleared to reveal another bunker not nearly so secure as Jimmy's. 

'Hey... hello? Oh _fuck_, this is messed up... Can you hear me? There's blood fucking everywhere, blood and pieces of the fucking guards... shit... what the fuck is going on?'

'I'm not sure. Whatever has happened over there hasn't hit yet, and I'm not seeing much activity in my general area. Did you see what was killing everyone? What sector are you in?'

'Sector B2. I didn't see anything - I just came over when the cells unlocked, and found things like this... Locked the bunker up in case whoever did this feels like coming back. I was hoping you... anyone would be able to tell me what the fuck's going on.'

'Well, I don't know if you've looked on the other monitors yet, but it seems to be the same all over. All except here.' Jimmy paused for a moment, thinking. 'If you don't mind me asking, how long has it been quiet over there?'

"Quiet?" the man on the monitor laughs for a moment. "It's never been quiet. They threatened to break in and rip me apart. I've locked them out - not going to risk anything, but the other cellmates... They're not *shutting up!*" he fairly roars the last part at someone off-screen.

"Sorry, sorry, they're banging on the door. It's only gonna get worse from now on - look at the monitors! There's people everywhere - it's like a proper breakout... And if it's that bad up here, then who knows what's going to happen when the nuts in Level 3 start getting out?"

'But there's...' Jimmy hid the words behind his hand and didn't continue. He didn't have much experience with the insane, but the look of the man on the monitor was certainly nothing he would expect of the term. No sudden, erratic movements. Nothing to indicate anything wrong except for an acknowledgement of something that wasn't appearing on the monitor.

Still, something was obviously the cause of all this carnage, and Jimmy doubted he would be able to learn anything more from the man on the monitor. 'I'm coming over there, sit tight.' 

Quickly, he gathered his things, and, after untying the unconscious prison warden and leaving a note telling her that he had her identification badge, he went out the door


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## Damaris (Oct 11, 2010)

Rika supressed her...frustration at the Captain's use of his powers on her. He was a fellow soldier after all, and despite his evidently liberal approach to his abilities, she had no reason not to mistrust him as a comrade. And he didn't seem to be a friend of the Commander's--the fact probably wasn't one that should have pleased Rika, but she couldn't help the small bubble of satisfaction. 

As her handler spoke up about Rika accompanying the Captain, Rika was already itching to turn on her heel to follow the Xenomix. Regardless of the fact that the delay probably _was_ just the result of some lazy soldiers, Rika was still glad to be going somewhere. The combat exercise was a necessity, she knew, to impress upon the common soldiers the superiority of the Premier project, and to alleviate the officers fears that it had been a failed experiment, but as the Commander had said, it was still some time before that was scheduled. She hadn't been looking forward to a few hours of being paraded about or even worse, just sitting still and waiting. She was a specimen designed for action.

"Thank you, Commander," she said, her voice schooled to perfect servility, before bowing her head and thanking the Major in turn. Then she was ready to follow the Captain out of the room, her excitement only betrayed by a slight gleam in her eyes.


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## Pintsize (Oct 13, 2010)

*James "Jimmy" Idaho*

'Thank you.' In his mind, a great Nazzadi stood up against the firelight, making up constellations as he traced the lines that went across his body. There was a nervous, artistic flair, brought fourth by his communities' insistence that all with capable minds take to the arts. After his demonstration, Jimmy was invited to touch them if he wished. He always thought of this memory when he met a Nazzadi, though not all of them deserved it. The dead here might not deserve that compassion, but as he saw 'Jomo Making the Great Voyage' beginning just underneath the back of the ear of one of the men, Jimmy put his fingertip to it. 'Dante.'

He stood up. Just outside the guard house to sector B2, the dead were everywhere. And all were Nazzadi. He didn't know whether there were only Nazzadi in this particular block, but considering his own section held a few he doubted it. Whatever had come through here killed with some purpose, and all, he had found, had bruises on their neck or ribs. Jimmy wasn't sure if he should feel safer with such a selective killer, or if he should be wondering when its inscrutable motives might change. What was most worrying was the only a few had any defensive wounds. Most had died without knowing when, though all, it would seem, died afraid.

Whatever it was that killed them, Jimmy would either fight it or he wouldn't; there was no point worrying. And no point in being afraid, either. Leaning into the ajar door, Jimmy looked around briefly for the man he had seen on the monitor.

'HELLO? HELLO? ARE YOU THERE?'


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## Chaos (Oct 14, 2010)

Three thoughts, three threats. Survival instinct had kicked in. Something was wrong. First rule in survival, grab a gun. Or any kind of weapon for that matter. The best bet at this moment was the guard station. There was only one guard around... Weird... Very weird... What was even more disturbing was that the third guard was happily taking a shit without knowing a goddamn thing about all that was going on. What the hell had happened? Barafu didn't know and at the moment, after just having escaped from the holding jar he'd been in for so long, he didn't particularly care either. But hey, a chance was a chance. 

He sprinted to the guard station, all the time keeping focused on the thoughts of the toilet-tourist. When he arrived, he picked up the heaviest thing he could bear and dropped it in front of the toilet door. Then he started looking around for weapons, or information, or anything that might help him getting to know what this mess was and how he could get out of it. He kept his telepathy on just to make sure no one was coming close.


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## skiboydoggy (Oct 14, 2010)

"Don't bother. Most of the guards are dead. Setting off the alarm will only attract more prisoners, and I like them only a little bit more than you do. Now stop moving around and trying to get yourself killed." Mikhail smiled as he spoke. For all the grimness of the situation, he could not help but be darkly amused by how it was all playing out, and there was no way he could not be pleased that he now had the chance to move about without having his every movement watched by guards and cameras. A brutal death was probably preferable to finishing his sentence in that coffin of a jail cell.

"Impossible," the guard said in response. "That's not possible. Just because they got one station doesn't mean they got all of them... They _couldn't_ have..." Her face hardens into a scowl again. "I'm not taking orders from a deserter. You'll have to kill me to stop me, _criminal_." With that, she jumped for the console, and Mikhail simply shrugged. Odds were, she was not going to get any useful reply from any of the guard stations. The fact that every cell door had simultaneously opened meant that the orders had to have been given right from the top, from the administrative block itself. Which meant that the absolute authority in this hell hole was either dead or in the whole farce. Either way, the guard would get no help. Even if she did, it would take long enough that Mikhail would have plenty of time to do whatever he wanted.


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## Watchman (Oct 15, 2010)

*This is a fillerpost to show the beginning of Act 2.*

All throughout the compound, sirens and alarms start blaring - if the breakout wasn't known to everyone already, it is now.


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## Damaris (Oct 15, 2010)

Level 3, 2-C5, 3-D4: Rika files all the information away mechanically as the section erupts into activity with the alarms. Rika and the Major (and the Captain, she supposes, but he isn't one of _them_, not really) remain steady, silent, as the other soldiers hurry. The Major even manages a thin smile, Rika notes. She isn't surprised. Pillars always survive what they support, and Rika, she has been trained to be the best pillar of all. 

As the Commander issues orders to the Captain, Rika salutes the Major, then the bellowing man in turn, and follows Blake. This is much more exciting than a combat exercise against apathetic soldiers, and she can't help the predatory feeling that rises in her blood as the alarms clang and ring in her ears.


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## skiboydoggy (Oct 19, 2010)

"Nope, not really. I find myself quite liking the fresh air and the ability to move my legs more than three inches in any direction. But you have fun waiting to get eaten." Mikhail shrugged as he tossed one of the first aid kits in the guard's direction before returning to the lockers and grabbing the uniform that was closest to his size. He needed the belt and pockets to hold his pistols and ammo respectively, and more importantly, the prisoner's garb was hardly the latest in protection and comfort. He did not want to be running around in them if he could help it. So he quickly slipped the guard's uniform over his clothing, resolving to change properly once he got the chance.

About three seconds later, Mikhail emerged from the station dressed as a guard, all three pistols hanging from various holsters from his belt along with a first aid pack extracted from one of the kits and the stun baton, his pockets filled with magazines for the pistols. He was as prepared as he was ever going to be for the nonsene that was sure to come, and Mikhail was ready to get out of his hellhole hale and hearty. Even if it was only because he was taking advantage of something attacking and eating half the guards in the prison, he was going to get out alive. It would defeat the whole purpose of his imprisonment if he did not go free at the end of it, and as far as he was concerned, the way things were, this was very much the end of it.

The guard was still ranting into the console even as Mikhail left, but a warning exploded in the back of his mind, telling him that he had left an opening by turning his back to her and she had found that out. So he broke into a full run, getting out and away from the station along with her firing range before she managed to get any lead in his stomach. So now he was pretty much free, with nobody shooting at him and pretty much free rein over his own actions, but he had no idea what the layout of the compound was. So he walked blind, heading in any random direction and hoping that it was a way out. In any case, the best survival plan was to get away from the cells before they lost any sense or reason, so he had to get somewhere far away as quickly as he could.

It was a while before anybody noticed him, but eventually he heard somebody shouting at him to stop. Of course, it would take an exceptional type of idiot to actually stop for that, especially when he was an escaping convict. On the other hand, whoever was shouting was also apparently way too trigger happy and started shooting.

"Fine, fine, I'll stop." Mikhail muttered as he leapt away from the gunfire, pulling one of his pistols out of its holster and turning to face his attacker. He needed to get into cover, and he needed to find out who was shooting at him.


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