View Full Version : Ashford Asylum (STARTS Staff LSUs welcome)

9th July 2006, 07:31 PM
You have no idea what’s going on, or why you’re here. All you know is that now you’re being thrown into a small cell and the steel door is being locked behind you. There isn’t much except a small cot, a toilet and a sink. It’s dark and dank and lit by only a small bulb.

A number of emotions are flowing through you, whether it’s anger, fear, confusion, sadness or a combination of the four. A number of questions flash through your mind. Where are you? What are you doing here?

Well, well, well. Another new inmate huh?

You look around, wondering where the voice came from.

Relax, I’m speaking to you through telepathy. I’m in the cell on the end, you may have seen it. He extra bolted up one.

You remember seeing it for a moment before you were thrown in your cell.

“Where am I?” you ask.

You’re at Ashford Asylum. In other words, the middle of nowhere! And in case you’re wondering what you’re doing here, well, obviously, you’re not exactly ‘normal’. You’ve got some ‘unnatural’ ability and the ‘good people’ here have found out.

“What do they want with me?”

What they want with everyone else here. To poke, prod and overall experiment on you.

You get a bit depressed by this. You’re nothing more then someone’s little guinea pig now.

“So I’m stuck in this cell forever?”

They let us out now and again, for exercise and such. They don’t have to worry about us escaping. I think we’re in the middle of the arctic or something, plus, they’ve got a small army…and Siege.

Siege? You wonder who, or what that is. You then here a harmonica being played. You discover it’s being played through the air ducts.

“Who?” you wonder to yourself.

That would be Scarecrow, another inmate, like us.

Scarecrow? You wonder who this guy is.

I’m afraid I’ve gotta cut this little talk short. They’ll be coming soon. If you want to learn anything else, me, Scarecrow and Nosferatu have all the answers.

Nosferatu? First Scarecrow now Nosferatu. Who were those guys. Furthermore, who was talking to you.

“Wait! Who are you?”

Silence for a few moments.

Just call me Spectre.

File Uploaded…[Ashford Asylum]

Established in 1999 by one Nathaniel Ashford as a base for genetic research. It was established after numerous reports of human beings displaying abnormal genetic activity. These normally manifest itself as some sort of ‘super power’. Ashford Asylum’s function is to round up these individuals and study them to determine which genes are behind this and what uses they have.

In order to protect the staff, subjects are kept under tight surveillance. Thankfully, the location and highly trained security prevent escape by any of the subjects.

File Uploaded…[Notable Subjects]

Subject Number: 471N0 (Spectre)
This young German male has displayed mental abilities similar to those described as telepathy and telekinesis. His real name and history have been wiped from the records by request. What’s behind his abilities is still being studied. He has been given neural suppression drugs to prevent him from using his more powerful abilities. He seems to have formed a friendship with subjects T73S8 and P2X81, who address him as ‘Spectre’. (TAKEN)

[CLOOR=green]Subject Number: T73S8 (Scarecrow)
A man described as a ‘medium’. Able to communicate and harness almost supernatural entities. Extensive testing is required to find what exactly these entities are. He somehow managed to smuggle in a harmonica, although we’ve found no need to confiscate it. His name and history have been erased from the records on request. He’s made a friendship with subjects 471N0 and P2X81, who address him as ‘Scarecrow’.

Subject Number: P2X81 (Nosferatu)
This large man possesses almost superhuman strength and rapid healing ability. The structure of his skin cells makes his skin also puts it on par with tough level in terms of durability. While tests prove there are no throat or vocal abnormalities, he never speaks and has been classified as a mute. He’s made friends with subjects 471N0 and T73S8, who address him as ‘Nosferatu’. He appears to how resentment towards subject Y46S9.

Subject Number: Y46S9 (Siege)
Subject displays characteristics similar to subject P2X81. However, his simple thinking patterns, speech and obedience have given him a position as an enforcer here at the asylum. He has been fitted with an experimental weapon called “Gospel” making him the most powerful in terms of raw destructive power. He’s disliked by the other subjects, most likely for his employment with us. He however displays a fierce resentment towards subject P2X81[/COLOR]

Sign up form:

Name: Whether it be real or an alias
Subject Number: (only for subjects)
Subject or staff:
Weapon: For staff only. Only exception is Siege.
Power: Subjects only. Be creative
History: optional, yet recommended.
Relations: optional

Here’s mine

Name: Spectre
Subject Number: 471N0
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Subject or staff: Subject
Appearance: Standing at about 5’56’’ with a lean build. His hair is a pale gray, and falls just roughly past his head. His eyes are a piercing gold and has a pale complexion. While his face, the only bit of skin shown, appears flawless, the rest of his body is riddled with scars from countless experiments.

For clothing, Spectre mainly wear black leather with numerous belts, buckles and zippers. Enough said.
Personality: Normally quiet and soft spoken. Specters full of advise for the newer inmates and is usually one to come to in need of help. Despite his soft spoken nature, he’s quite witty and overall ready to stand up to those who wrong him and his friends (even though it’s pretty pointless).
Weapon: none
Power: Telepathy and telekinesis
History: history has been erased from files (later revealed)
Relations: friends with Scarecrow and Nosferatu. Like to speak to Poltergeist.
Other: He’s German.

The pale young man sat cross legged on the floor of his cell, his eyes closed and his face expressionless. By the look of things, people might think he’s meditating, or maybe sleeping, but in reality…

”What did they do to you this time?”

They just drew a bit of blood and took another tissue sample. Nothing too serious.

The staff haven’t seemed to have caught on to the fact that despite the drugs they slipped him, Spectre still had the ability to communicate telepathically, even if it was to an extent. It was using this ability that he frequently had mental conversations with Scarecrow, Nosferatu or Poltergeist.

”You think they’d have enough by now. I bet they’re just throwing them away so they can keep tormenting us.”

They can do a lot worse then take samples Scarecrow. You know that.

There was a pause. A tinge of guilt went through the psychic. He shouldn’t have brought it up.

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…

“No, it’s alright. We’ve all been through this. Damn I hate this place!”

We all do.

Scarecrow mentally sighed.

”But there’s no way out. We’re in the middle of nowhere, and with all the drugs they feed us, there’s no way we can fight off the guards.”

Spectre was silent for a moment before…

I think I may have an idea. It needs a bit of work though.

“You do? Well, let’s hear it!”

Just then, Spectre heard the doors open and footsteps in the corridor.

They’re coming for us now. I’ll tell you then.

Crystal Tears
9th July 2006, 08:47 PM
Name: Sakura but everyone usually calls her Cross.
Subject Number: X0001

Age: 16

Gender: Female

Subject or staff: Subject

Appearance: Cross (http://www.freewebs.com/silver62/issabelle.jpg) (See why she's called Cross?) Ignore the wings and crown thing in her hair...

Personality: Usually she acts a bit unstable, she doesn't trust easily and will often scream and attack if someone gets into her 'bubble'; which is basically to her to close for comfort. She tends to ramble on about pointless things, and will always talk about things that never happened. Though, there are moment where she is completely normal, but that’s only after someone’s finally gotten her to focus.

Weapon: N/A

Power: Guardian- Cross can turn into a white tiger like creature like black dragon wings, and two long protruding horns coming from its head. It's a horribly painful experience, and Cross can't control herself when in the form. It only comes when she is extremely scared; however, a chip embedded into her left shoulder prevents her from changing unless the 'boss' says so.

History: Sakura had always been different, when she was little, she wouldn't hang around with other children, she would go and hang around with a particular white cat she named "Gemini". Her parents worried about her, because she would speak to the cat like it could understand.
When she reached 13, she only got worse, she began to exhibit odd behaviour, and she would hiss and snarl at anyone who would get to close. And while she was a rather chubby child when she was young, her body began to loose weight at an incredible rate. All the while, she would hang around with Gemini. On her 14th birthday, she lost the ability to focus; she would laugh at sad things, and cry when something wonderful happened. Soon enough she locked herself in her room, and barely ever ate.
It was when she was 15 that it finally happened: her father had been yelling, and her mind snapped. Her body morphed into the tiger creature. It’s when she was human again, that she saw her father horribly murdered and her mother hiding behind strange men.

Relations: Er... Friends with Lost, Reed, Cameron, and... knows Ryoss.

Other: It takes a lot to get her to focus; usually she'll have to stare at it for a while before she even makes a comment on it. That usually requires people holding her head towards the thing. And she’s always had a thing for animals, especially cats.


[font=Arial Narrow][color=lilac]Laughter… A sort of sick laughter emulated throughout her small little cell as her body quivered, and tossed back in forth. Her face pressed up against the concrete wall whilst she laughed. Her lower lip quivering as she drowned out her laughter with light sobbing. She wasn’t happy, nor was she sad. In fact, she wasn’t really anything, just another case of insanity; trapped in a small cell that made her case even worse. The Cell was in her bubble… She hated when things were in her bubble…

But she began to laugh again, as she placed her hands over her ears; trying to drown out the echoing of her own voice, she found something hysterical, but what it was, was a mystery to her and everyone else.

“The bed is more comfy…” She snorted, bursting into full blown laughter again when she looked at the simple contraption only inches away from the corner she was quivering in. “But its so far away..” Her voice was light and happy, but tears poured down her slightly redden cheeks as she banged her head against the wall just once.

Her name was Cross, and she made is quite apparent; as she wrote it in her own blood all over her cell walls, along with many actual Crosses, though, everyone doubt if she new the significance of them. They’d be right in their assumption; they were nothing but a reminder of the name everyone had placed on her.

Her eyes quickly shot over to the direction of noise, it was a door closing, not a cell door, but the white doors that lead to this part of the facility. She smirked smugly before her eyes focused on the ceiling of her cell.

“Have you been a bad girl Cross?” She asked herself, mocking the usual tone of her torturers. She smiled again, shaking her head. Staring at her simple bed, she frowned. “What a simple thing…” Her foot flung out, slamming into the metal frame of her ‘nest’ that made a loud clanking echo throughout the hallways. “He he… Broken bones!”

She giggled, scurrying quickly over to the other corner when one of the guards came to her cell, looking in at her. She whimpered, tears again went streaming down her cheeks when the man looked at her, his eyes were full of hate towards her, but as wandered away, she smiled.

“A butterfly with no wings!” She exclaimed the world around her, remaining in the corner, while her body twitched and tossed. “… Isn’t very pretty at all…”

9th July 2006, 09:11 PM
Name: His real name is John, but is referred to as Torch
Subject Number: NAV117
Age: 24
Subject or staff: Subject
Appearance: John is very much like a stick, he is 6'5" and only 150 pounds. He looks a bit older then he is, with fading black hair. This was caused by an alcohol addiction which he slowly overcame by joining the Navy. He looks somewhat like James Marsden (Cyclops from the X-Men Movies)
Personality: John is very lonely, having barely ever talken to a human being other then his commanding officer and his parents. He will avoid contact with anyone, with the lone exception of people he has to talk to. He started to act like this ever since he was young.
Weapon: N/A
Power: Pyrokinesis- He has the power to create fire and control fire, even using the fire as a shield around himself. When he gets extremely angry he can even set off explosions with his powers. Yet, while being in the asylum, He has had powerful mental drugs that are placed in him while getting shots and while eating food. This makes it so that his powers are dampened, only allowing him to create small flares, which even when controlled can not grow into much. Also, has a extreme weakness to water.
History: It all started when John was 18 years old. His parents lived in a beautiful in San Diego, California, when one day, the house just seemed to explode for no reason with him and his parents in it. John's parents were instantly killed by the explosion, but for some reason, he instantly lit on fire, his whole body in flames. But for some reason, he sat there burning, but he could not feel the pain of the fire. His clothes instantly burned away, leaving him laying there in the middle of a fire. Eventaully tne Firefighters pulled him out, but when they started to get rid of the fire by putting it out with water, He went into such a fit of pain that he fainted within seconds. When he awakened again in the hospital, it was deemed a miracle that he got out alive, and he was soon sent back out.
But when he was out, all he could think about was his parents, and he turned to alcohol, which was bought by his uncle, who was also an alcoholic. He went on with this for nearly 2 years, until he was 20 years old, when he decided that he wanted to join the Navy and become a fighter pilot. He was accepted into the Navy as a F18 pilot, and quickly became one of the best aviators around.
But when he was 23, on a mission to Iraq, his F18, being pursued by Iraqi planes, crashed in the Sahara Desert. The plane exploded, once again lighting him on fire, and he went out on a journey, trying to find civilization, and when he did, he killed them all with his abilites. He was finally stopped in Cairo, Egypt, and shipped off to Ashford Asylum. John has no memory of his history, other then that he was a fighter pilot.
Relations: If anyone wants, just say so. don't really know how he would have any relations though.....
Other: Nope


Sitting in the corner of his small cell, Johnathan Cross, referred to as Torch by most staff, continued to punch the hard concrete wall. His knuckles were already bleeding, leaving a stream of crimson blood to roll down into his palms and to continue down his arms and his chest. To Torch, the blood felt refreshing to run down his body. He remembered the killings in Egypt, the burnt bodies, the severed limbs and heads, the streams of blood hitting the sand...

The wall also red, stained with the blood of Torch's knuckles. He continued to continously punching the wall until finally, nearly fifteen minutes later, he ran out of energy and stopped. He missed the satisfaction of tearing a body into two with his bare hands, putting his hands on someones face and watching the skin melt away...

It was all Torch was able to remember. Nothing else. Not who he used to be, Not even his own god damned name, his family, anything that happened. Just killing in Egypt. Nothing else. Exploding buildings, sending nomadic villages in to hellfire, watching burning flesh bubble and turn black...

He didn't even remember how he became like this. How did it happen? Did toxic waste fall on him? Did some freak drug thing him into this? Why the hell did this happen to him? WHY?

In an angered frustration he threw himself against the wall as hard as he could, feeling satisfaction as he heard a crack. He felt no pain, only bitter anger and regret for what this god damned thing had made him do. All the men and children he killed... He remembered how one man how fought valianty against him, being able to hit him with a knife in the stomach. He remembered the satisfaction of ripping out his throat, seeing his hands clutch his neck and the crimson blood flowing to the ground. He had enjoyed gutting his wife and child.

God Damn it he needed to stop thinking like this. He then started to smash his head against the concrete wall, when all of the sudden he heard the unlocking of the door, and two bulky guards walked in, one holding a bucket of ice water.

"Alright buddy, time for your blood sample," One said, holding a medium sized syringe. The other guard grinned with satisfaction as he threw the water at Torch, Sending him into a flurry of pain. He screamed in agony as he felt as if the water was peeling off his skin, tearing him apart. The Same guard came and held one arm down while the other took the blood sample. They slowly left the room and re-locked the door.

Torch mentally noted that as soon as he got out he would gut them and their families.

9th July 2006, 10:07 PM
Name: Cameron, AKA Seraphim

Subject Number: AA777

Age: 18

Gender: Female

Subject or staff: Subject

Appearance: Standing at about 4'11, Cameron/Seraphim isn't extremely tall, but she's well-muscled which shows that her strength is not be judged by her size. She has a girlish face with high cheekbones that give her an air of "cuteness" that transcends traditional beauty. Her hair is light blonde, reaching to her waist and always pulled back in a thick braid held up by a white band. Her eyes have been known to change color depending on which of her powers she's using or is "feeling" at the moment. She dresses in a white strapless empire-waisted shirt, the hem of which extends past her waistline with a pair of slim-fitting white pants that lace up all the way to the thighs and white leather boots. A pair of white, fingerless gloves that extend all the way to her elbow accentuate the look. (Her "obsession" with the color white earned her the nickname "Seraphim" because of the angelic look.) She also wears four metal bands- one on each wrist and ankle.

Personality: Cameron or Seraphim is very maternal towards everyone in Ashford, and tries her very best to look out for everyone. She's very outspoken and will often speak out against mistreatment of any of her fellow subjects. She has a penchant for having a big mouth, which gets her into a lot of trouble, but she has no qualms about standing up for the "little guy" so to speak either way. She's very strong-willed and has a "you can't take me" attitude towards the staff, so no matter how much she's poked and prodded, they can't really bring her down. She's fun and easy to get along with for the most part. She doesn't harp on the past and keeps her mind firmly focused on the now, although she does have a lot of high hopes for the future.

Power: She has control over the four elements: Earth, Wind, Water, and Fire (of course ^_~). Each element corresponds to a certain aspect of her personality and the more she's feeling that particular aspect when she uses a certain power, the more powerful the element is. (Example: Water corresponds to depression so if she uses her powers to manipulate water while depressed , it's twice as powerful then if she used it any other time.) Her eyes also change color depending on her mood and which element she's "feeling."

Her power can only manipulate the elements, however, so she can't create them under any circumstance, which is why it's so easy for the staff at Ashford to keep her powers in check as long as they keep her away from anything that involves any of the elements. Just in case, however, they have placed four metal bands on her, each color coded to represent an element. Not only do these keep her from using her elemental powers against them, but they also keep her from using more than one at a time. All they have to do is remove a single band and she's able to use the element that the band represented.

The following is a little chart with the mood and eye (and band) color that corresponds to each of Seraphim's elements:

Fire- Anger/Rage- Red
Water- Depression/Sadness- Sapphire Blue
Wind- Happiness/Joy- White (band)/Ice Blue (Eyes) (Note: This is Seraphim's "patron" element, so to speak. It's the one she's most connected to and thus her most powerful.)
Earth- Determination (Emotions dealing with "strength" essentially)- Green

History: Cameron (or Seraphim) grew up as the only daughter to an extremely wealthy New York family. For as long as she could remember she held aspirations of being a dancer and was trained in the finest schools as soon as she was old enough to take lessons. However, once she hit puberty her powers began to develop and try as she might she couldn't control them for a long time. She eventually had to give up her passion as her family tried desperately to find a way to "cure" her. During these futile attempts, she came to understand, respect, and love her powers. This, however, didn't go unnoticed by her family who became increasingly worried about her.

That, however, is all she knows of her past. She has no memory of anything else aside from the day she arrived at the Asylum, although she tries hard not to think about what happened in that time. Since her memory was never erased, the staff believed she simply blocked out the obviously painful memories.

Relations: Lost and Cross are her sort of "adopted little sisters."

Other: Think Kristin Chenoweth with Idina Menzel's attitude (if that means anything to you, of course ^^;; ), and you've got Cameron/Seraphim.


~Dancing through life, skimming the surface, gliding where turf is smooth...~

I've been trying to remember the motions to an old dance routine for the longest time. You have a lot of time on your hands when you're stuck in a cell, occasionally getting blood drawn or other odd experiments inflicted upon you, so it's probably best to keep busy.

You wouldn't really want to go mad, now would you, Cammie?

Cammie is no more, however, and Cameron is even less so. It's all Seraphim now. That's what they call me. They think it's cute. "Look, she's all in white. And look at her number 'AA777.' So angelic! We'll call the little missie Seraphim. Ha ha!"

It's like naming a dog to them. That's why so many of us have nicknames. We're their pets. No... We're like their cattle. Pets are treated better than we are.

Laughter. My first instinct is to look beyond the bars of my cell to the cell across from mine where Lost is imprisoned. She's quiet now, fiddling with a lock of her white-blonde hair, singing softly, so that only leaves...

Yes, I can tell now. It's from the cell beside Lost's. I strained to peer out of my bars so I could see into that cell. Cross's cell.

She's having one of her fits again...

I've tried talking her out of her fits once before, but it never does much good. In my time here I'd sort of adopted her and Lost as my little sisters. The two girls had similar problems but completely different powers that more than likely warranted those problems. I couldn't help being completely taken by them even if they were insane, however. They reminded me of the young girls in the dance classes I used to teach.

A door slammed. I sighed heavily, expecting the worst again. They arrive just like clockwork, and once they've come and gone the mood here is always so intense. That's when Cross and Lost are at their worst and no amount of soothing words can bring them back to their senses. It's not just them, though. No, it's everyone.

The screaming doesn't die down for several hours. It's hard to concentrate on anything in that time.

It's this time that I hate the most.

I saw one of the men stop at Cross's cell and I wrinkled my nose as I heard her whimpering at the sight of him. My eyes bored into his skull, daring him to turn around and face me rather than picking on poor girls like her. Much to my surprise he turned around her and moved to my cell as if answering my threat.

"Hello, Seraphim," he smiled. "Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong again, are you?" He reached a hand between the bars and grabbed a hold of my braid so quickly that I couldn't stop him. With one swift motion he dragged me to the ground by my hair, forcing my back to him. He released my hair and my scalp tingled in pain and a few tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away. I refused to ever let these psychos see me cry. I had to be strong.

"Let's see," he said, taking my wrists. He'd mastered the art of dealing with me without letting me out ever since I'd uppercutted him into the wall in a futile attempt to escape. The aftermath was a moment I don't care to relive or even think about, but ever since this one man- I didn't even know his name, really, as if I really care- has had it in for me. "The bands are still fuctioning I see. We may have to put you on some depressants though if that attitude of yours doesn't improve. I see those red eyes, and I know what they mean."

That's their answer to everything- drugs. Uppers and downers. Just like high school. Even in the snootiest private schools had their drug problems, but I had never been a part of that scene.

Now look at me... I'm almost the poster child for the crap. Uppers when they want to test my abilities, downers when they want to "adjust my attitude."

I was barely aware that he'd drawn blood from me, but after awhile one gets used to it, even someone as afraid of needles as me. He moved on after that, which puzzled me. He'd gone easy on me this time. I assumed he was having an off day or something.

I stood up and settled myself on my cot, tapping out a beat with my boot on the cold stone floor.

And cue the screaming...

9th July 2006, 10:57 PM

Name: Shan Shayna
Subject Number: LO571
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Subject or staff: Subject
Appearance: Click (http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/36268356/). Thin, fine brown hair that hangs down to the middle of his back. Hazel eyes that just seem to be a muddy mixture of brown and green. He stands around 6'2" and has a quiet, impassive expression on his face most of the time, though he is subject to rather abrupt mood swings. His skin has a deep tan, and his slim build borders on emancipation. He often wears a t-shirt under a thin, unbutton flannel and blue jeans with sneakers, but no socks. He also has a gold ring on his right ring finger.
Personality: He's amiable and altruistic, though he seems to have a hard time getting close to people. He really does prefer being with people, but being with others pains him because of his powers. He tries not to become good friends with anyone since the emotions of those he cares for affect him twice as much. He's also subject to mood swings for obvious reasons.
Power: Empath (the ability to read the emotions of others; empathy to the extreme)
This isn't a power he can use at will. It's on all the time, so he can sense others within a rather wide radius (the actual radius is unknown, but it's probably no more than a quarter mile) The emotions of others aren't only felt by him, they affect him like they're his own emotions. Actually, he's been going slightly insane by being surrounded by lots of other people and having their emotions jumble together in his mind, and he seems to experience them more stongly than the source. He does have some safeguards, though. If the emotions become too strong, he passes out, and will only revive when the stimulus decreases or leaves entirely (this is extreme situations, like being in the presense of a violent homicide or suicide).
History: He's the only child of a homemaker mother and a pencil-pusher father. His father and mother never had the best relationship, with his mother constantly verbally abusing his dad and this abuse affecting Shan as if they were physical blows. When he was seventeen, his father committed suicide and the moment he turned eighteen, Shan left home, though his mother never severely yelled at him the way she did to his father. He's been doing various odd jobs and living in some fairly crappy apartments, hiding his ability to sense the emotions of others as best he could. This doesn't mean he won't use his empathetic abilities to his own advantage. Using his abilities, he can now almost guess what others are thinking by their emotions. He honestly can't tell you how he was captured. We'll just say he was very out of it at the time.
Relations: He enjoys spending time with Dr. Lathe, due to her warm, mild personality. Besides that, 'twould be open.
Other: Enjoys sketching, and is a slight drug addict. (Mmmmm, drugs....) This came about because depressants lessen his powers.

Welcome to where time stands still. No one leaves and no one will...

Shan Shayna
There was laughter down the hall. It wasn't a pleasant sort of laughter. It was the laugh of someone who was completely unable to control their irrational mirth, a mirth that was present even if that person wasn't happy. It was Cross, most likely. Cross would have these sort of 'fits' where she seemed to lose control over herself. Unfortunately for Shan, he understood that feeling all too well.

But today, he didn't know exactly how the girl called Cross was feeling, nor any of the others in this place. He laid on his stomach, his face buried into the pillow on his cot. His shirt was a bundled cloth on the floor, so he could feel the cool air on his back. He turned his head toward the wall to breathe, and there was a slight grin on his face. His head swam in a slow, muddled cloud, and he was only slightly aware of his surroundings. Not that there was a lot to his surroundings. He had been here...a month?...two?...and he had learned the layout of his cell - there was no other real word for it - on the first day. He didn't know many people. He didn't even have a nickname like all the other 'inmates' seemed to. His given name was all anyone ever called him: "Shan." It had been that way at home, at school, in Chicago, and now here, wherever 'here' really was. Not that he cared much at the moment.

Yes, they had tested him today, didn't they? Testing Shan still seemed to be a problem for them, the researchers or scientists or torturers, if you will. The 'power' Shan possessed, the reason he had been taken here, wasn't something that could be seen. There was no external indications other than what Shan shared. They probably would have given up on testing him if it weren't for the few perks of his 'gift,' such as the fact that they couldn't lie to him. They had spent several hours seeing if they could make Shan slip up, but lying was ridiculously easy to spot. The emotion of deception was too unique for anyone to block effectively. So they tested him, usually with verbal quizzing, CAT scans, and blood samples, though some days...

Then, when all that was finished, then they would drug him. Other inmates complained about how the staff used drugs to control and test them, but it was a blessing to Shan. He hated how easily classical conditioning worked on him, but worked it did. "Obey us and do as you're told," they said, "Obey and we'll give you the drugs; we'll give you that chemical sanctuary so you can be yourself, even if it's only a day." He'd obey most of the time, they'd do what they wanted, then he could relax in his cell and listen to the screams and laughters of the others without laughing and screaming with all of them. He'd rest in that blissful, half-lost state until whatever drugs they used would begin to wear off. Before the pains of withdrawl could set in and he was exposed to the emotions of everyone, they'd test him again. Although sometimes...Shan looked down at the bandage on his right hand...sometimes they'd be a bit late. Whether that was on purpose or not, Shan never knew.

He fought when he could, but fighting the staff too much meant he didn't receive any drugs. Shan hated withdrawl, but he hated being sober more. The staff at first tried to cure his addiction, but quickly discovered that having the mental problems of everyone in this 'institute' in one person wasn't worth it. "Better to drug him," they thought. "We'll dry him out to test him. Besides, this way he's in our control."

The grin faded, and a few tears dotted the pillow. He hated it. Hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it. He wished he could strike out in earnest, but to say he didn't want any more drugs...he might as well say he no longer desired air.

9th July 2006, 11:53 PM
Name: Dennis Fairbrooks Alexander "Alchemist"
Subject number: SR388
Gender: Male
Subject or Staff: Subject
Appearance:Standing at a tall six foot, he is of a medium build. He has straw colored hair pulled back in a ponytail, and crystal blue eyes. He wears brown pants and a grey shirt with a brown trenchcoat, as well as his wrists are nearly perpetually shackled together, for safety reasons.
Personality: To most people, Dennis is a nice enough guy, usually rather easygoing. However, he harbors a near psychotic hatred of the facility, and will do whatever it takes to eventually succeed in escaping, even if it means being very patient.
Weapon: Not Applicable
Power: Chemical and Physical restructuring. Dennis can alter an object's physical shape and chemical composition just by touching it, however, this does not effect lead.
History: Dennis' life, up until he was nabbed ten years ago, wasn't very exciting, being a well cared for rich kid. Since his imprisonment, he has hardened, becoming slightly less trustful and in general has grown more and more determined to escape, even if it means killing the staff that get in his way. About four years ago, he managed to make a break for it, and was captured before fully escaping the Asylum. Ever since, there's been a watchful eye kept on him.
Relations: Most people know of him, as he makes a point of meeting newcomers and finding out what they can do, though few people are full fledged friends. (feel free to PM me if you want to try to be a full friend.)

Dennis Fairbrooks Alexander "Alchemist"
__________________________________________________ ____________________
I sighed, sitting there on my bed, staring at my shackles, shaking my head, I'd been here far too long, all because I could do something that shouldn't have been possible, something 'Paranormal'. I shook my head, wondering just how much the world had changed while I was trapped in this abysmal complex, and how everyone I'd known had changed as well.

Like Johnny, and his computers, or Sarah and her pets, where are they now?

But, it didn't matter, not yet at least. Getting out would take patience, build up comraderie with the appropriate people, fellow subjects, a couple guards here and there, and once the time's right, shatter the bonds that held us all here. But that time wasn't now.

I laid back onto the bed some when I heard a slight rapping on the door, and I looked up, noticing a guard at the door.

"Rise and Shine, Alchemist, it's time to check those shackles of yours again." he stated, motioning me forward to the Slot they'd put in the door. I walked forward and held them up for him to look at, and he nodded, commenting, "Sorry about this, it's just my job, y'know."

I sighed, replying, "Yeah, I know, You kill a guy by rearranging the molecules in a guy's head, and they don't want to let you out much, even if it WAS during a moment of extreme stress. Don't worry, I don't hold it against YOU, I hold it against THEM."

He nodded in full understanding, the guard was one of those that felt cooped up, creeped out about the job they'd gotten themselves into. One of those that could be used to help in case of an uprising.

"Well, everything seems in order here, gotta go to the next task." He stated wearily as he walked off.

I turned back to my bed, and laid down, using my well practiced skill at ignoring the ravings and rantings of the less stable inhabitants, getting too involved in others could disrupt my chance...

10th July 2006, 12:52 AM
Name: Jack. Alias- "Walker"
Subject Number: 44812
Age: Mid 20's? even he doesn't know.
Subject or staff: Subject
Appearance: Tall, with dark brown skin, black hair and brown eyes. His eyes in particular are arresting...they have a strange look in them, as if this person has seen things that still haunt him. Also, you're quite confident that you've never seen him before in your life....but for some reason, he seems familiar to you. He is wearing dark blue slacks that just brush against the ground, and appear to be weather-stained. A baggy black shirt with the sleeves cut off hangs to him, sharing the bedraggled look of his pants. Dusty grey boots cover his feet.
Personality: Walker is contemplative, never reckless. He has a 'take things as they come' kind of attitude- he never seems surprised. Even waking up in this cell didn't shake him too much. His calm, cool-headedness isn't an act, he is simply the type of person who approaches life without any expectations. Around other people, he can appear to be strange, interrupting other with strange phrases that at first glance, appear to make no sense. However, he doesn't speak without reason- he just chooses not to speak directly. His roundabout way of speech is a product of his lifestyle and experiences, rather than his own nature.
Weapon: None.
Power: Hard to determine. The best Ashford attendants can determine, is that he walks, and as he walks, he travels much further than you or I. Several people across the United States could swear that they have seen him somewhere, or passed him by, but he always left by the next day. If you took a poll in China, you would get the same results. In his own words: "There are other worlds than these." Walker seems to be able to walk to different...what? dimensions? planets? worlds? It is a gradual effect, one that he either has complete control over or none at all. One thing is for sure: his power requires vision to work, because he must see where he is going in order to travel. For this reason, he has been blind-folded and his legs chained before he was placed in his cell, in order to keep him from...walking away.
History: He believes he was born near the coast, because he remembers the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, but he can't pin down a location. Apparently, he was treated well by his parents, who loved him, even if they were a bit confused by their son's behavior. Then one day he just....walked away. Miraculously, he wasn't abducted, run over, or killed in the first week, month,year. Nor did he show any signs of homesickness. As long as he kept walking and seeing new places, he left those feelings behind, like the dust from his boots. He worked odd jobs when he felt the need to stay in a place. When people felt hospitable, he had a warm bed to sleep in. When they didn't, he made do but getting a room in a hotel, or sleeping near a public place. He doesn't know how many years he's been walking- last week or last year, it's all the same to him. Ask him who the current President is, and he might respond with an oldie, like Kennedy....or someone you've never heard of, like Smith(?). He appears to be old and young at once...perhaps because he has out-walked Time.
Relations:None, but open. Again, he wouldn't remember.
Other: Walker has an impeccable sense of direction, even in places he's never been before. In his words, he's been there somewhere, or else he wouldn't be here now.

Everything was dark.

It took him a few moments to realize he was awake. Have I been blinded? He wondered, his thoughts feeling muddy. No- some soft material had been stretched tight across his eyes and fastened securely behind his head. A blindfold. Automatically he reached to pull it off, but his hands refused to move. They were bound at his sides, and though he couldn't tell the means, he could smell the coppery scent of metal. Hesitantly, he tested his legs, though he could already guess the answer. They wouldn't move either.

Maybe I'm paralyzed from the neck down he thought dreamily. He cast his mind back, trying to remember the night before. He remembered waking up in a field and looking up into the night sky. The stars were bright, though he couldn't see any constellations he recognized- the Great Bear was oddly absent, though Orion's Belt was there. No Little Dipper, but he could see Polaris. Strange. He had nodded off into sleep and then...

And then...here. But where was here? When was here?

Somewhere, maybe a few feet away or a few miles away, he could hear the sounds of laughter. A dull pounding, steady and incessant, off to his right. A relentless tapping to his left, knocking out a phantom beat he couldn't recognize. He tried to speak, but found that his throat was too dry. Struck speechless.Well, I'm sure there are those who could say it's an improvement.

A door opened, bringing with it a gust of cool air that tickled his brow. Then, heavy footsteps. A voice.

"You awake, Traveling Man?" Jack couldn't speak, but he wiggled his fingers in response. He flinched as a pair of hands fiddled with something at the side of his head. Then, his vision returned abruptly as the blindfold was removed, blinking rapidly in the dim light. He was lying on his back, his legs and hands secured firmly with a pair of manacles. As he watched, the guard inserted a key into the lock and opened the cuffs.

With a more dangerous convict, the act might have been fatal. But Jack, disoriented and numb, was in no position to take advantage of the situation. The guard threw a canteen at him, liquid sloshing hollowly inside and winked. "No telling, or I get the belt. Get me?"

Dumb, Jack nodded. He had no idea what the man was talking about, but he some means of quelling the burn in his throat. First things first. The guard walked to the door, pulling out his key again.

"Doc reckons you can stretch your legs a bit, as long as you don't see. That means darkness. Wouldn't want you walking off, right?" the guard chuckled to himself, closing the door with a slam and leaving him in total darkness. Jack drank the water greedily, staring into blackness. Then, satisfied, he licked his lips.

"My name is Jack, not 'Walker.'" he said into the dark.

Somewhere close by, someone farted in response. Jack sighed. Where am I now?

10th July 2006, 02:26 AM
Name: Poltergeist
Subject Number: DP136
Age: Assumed to be early twenties
Gender: Female
Subject or staff: Subject
Appearance: She's tall, about six feet, and very thin with an extreme pale complexion that has an almost greyish cast to it. Her eyes and haircolor tend to change sporratically, though it's not known if she can control when and what colors. Currently, she has pure white hair and blue-grey eyes, which emphasize her unnatural skin coloring. She wears denim cut-offs and black t-shirts most of the time with black boots that cover her ankles; she prefers to be as non-descript as possible.
Personality: Spontanious doesn't even begin to cover it; most label her insane and leave it at that. She hardly ever reveals anything about herself, though it's mostly because she doesn't even know. She'll spend days in her cell silent, then will randomly start screaming wordlessly. When in a calmer state, she can be very polite and civilized, but in the blink of an eye she'll change to someone else entirely.
Power: Changable appearance; limited psychokinesis; can pass through solid objects but it takes a lot of concentration due to constant supervision of staff and mind weakening drugs.
History: She can't really remember anything; she knows that she had a semi normal life at some point, but isn't completely sure where she's from or when her abilities began to manifest. She describes her memories as lost in thick mist; she can see shapes and sillouhettes, but no details.
Relations: Not really, but she likes to 'talk' with Spectre in hopes that, maybe by using German, she'll remember some of her past. No luck as of yet, though.
Other: Sie kann Deutsch sprechen.


Another day. Whoopdeedo. In an attempt to break up the monotony of the week so far, I found myself standing on my head with my feet bracing against the wall and my face towards the door. The door was a bit more interesting than the other walls, at least... People were constantly walking by, mostly attendants taking routine blood samples back to the labs. Somewhere nearby a guard was sitting, as usual, and every five minutes or so he'd walk past me to see what I was doing. Evidently, they thought of me as a trouble maker. Couldn't figure why, though... I mean, me, cause trouble?! What an idea! Especially today, when I was mostly dry (as dry as it was safe to have me) so they could... whatsitcalled. Test, research, torture, observe... it was all the same shit to me. Whatever.

The screaming was starting to get on my nerves, though. In my not-so-humble oppinion, Cross and Lost should just get over it and adjust. It was the only reason that I screamed. Well, almost the only reason. Sometimes, I just felt like it. They were just weird. I yelled out some obsceneties at Cross that echoed through the cell block. Didn't do any good, though, only got me yelled at by my guard. Asshole.

I closed my eyes and went to my inner sanctuary; a "place" in my mind that allowed me to block everything else out. It was about the only power I was left with in here, outside of changing my hair and stuff. Whoo-hoo, look at me, I can change the color of my hair as many times as I want and not fry it! I don't need colored contacts, I'm just so cool! Bah... I was bored. Wish the attendants would hurry up and take me to my labrat session all ready.

After what seemed like forever, I heard the jingle of keys as someone unlocked my door. Without opening my eyes, I said, "It's about time you monkeys got here. You want blood? Take it from this." I proudly offered them my middle finger.

Someone reached out to grab me and haul me to my feet. My eyes shot open and I growled, "I wouldn't do that, if I were you..."

My usual guard placed a hand on the new man's shoulder; he absolutely screamed newbie. "You don't want to touch her any more than you have to. We lost a good man a few weeks ago to her..."

The kid looked at the other guard. "What happened?"

"She impaled him on the door."

The young guard looked confused. "But... it's a door. It's not even sharp, anyway."

"Kid, she made him pass through the door and left him there. Right through his major organs... Not pretty at all."

The newbie blanched and stared at me. I smiled innocently and, kicking my legs against the wall, tumbled backwards and landed on my feet. I straightened and resumed my smile. "Let's go, shall we?"

It was the usual set up. A table with about five different solid elemental compound samples was set up with a chair for me. They would have me see how fast I could phase my hand through each sample, if I could. There had been some that I couldn't, but I suspected that they repeated things in case the drugs lingered during a session and tarnished the results. Across the lab, I could see Spectre undergoing some kind of test.

"Hey there, Doc, enjoying your evening? Or is it afternoon? Or even morning? Not that it matters... Let's get to the matter at hand. Haha, get it, matter at hand? ...OK, I'll shut up..."

10th July 2006, 02:57 AM
Another, yet rather pointless experiment. They knew that I could communicate telepathically, but they wanted to see to what extent I could could communicate. Now they were trying to see if I could communicate mentally with animals, in htis case, a cat.

It was completely pointless. Unless you knew how to speak cat, telepathic or not, you still can't understand them. They just don't understand english.

I looked over to the other side of the lab and spotted Poltregiest, doing another of her phasing experiments.

He dort.

Poltergiest gave a brief glance in my direction.


So wie war dein Tag?

"Das selbe wie irgendein anderer Tag."

Nicht viel Aufregung herum ist hier dort?

"Nicht es sei denn du otrcher zählst und schmerzt. "

Spectre could see a look of sadness cross over Poltregiest's face.

"Ich hasse diesen Platz. "

Alle wir.

There was silence between the two.



Htink I kann ich ein Weise outta hier haben.

Spectre could hear her mentally gasping.

"Du? Was ist es? Erklären mir!"

ich erkläre dir, wenn sie uns für das Mittagessen ausführen.

For htose who don't speak German, here's the translated conversation:

-Hey there.
-So, how was your day.
-The same as any other day.
-Not much excitement here is there?
-Not unless you count torture and pain.
-I hate this place.
-We all do.
-I think I hav a plan to get outta here.
-You do? What is it? Tell me!
-I'll tell you when they brings is out for lunch.

10th July 2006, 04:47 AM
woot! first staff postie! and yay! someone else who knows what Wicked is!


The walls brimmed once again with the sounds of laughter and screaming. It was almost like an unholy theme for the place, something you always seemed to hear when you stepped foot inside. I grabbed my uniform from my locker, shivering slightly at the prospect of carrying out another day in this shit hole; or as I liked to call it: Hell. I slipped my baton into its case and reported to my superior for the day’s tasks. Someday, when I was older, they’d let me have a gun. But I didn’t want it.

“Sir.” I offered the traditional ‘inferior to superior’ salute as I was required but it made me sick. He was a twisted man; one of those who tormented those here for his own disgusting amusement. Soon enough, I would be his boss and then we’d start seeing some changes.

“Ryoss. You got drug rounds today.” He rolled a thick steel trolley towards me. “They all got boxes with names on so you can’t make a mistake. They’re crazy enough without you screwing up their meds.”

I ground my teeth angrily behind my lips. He didn’t understand. They were never crazy in the first place, it was this place that made them crazy. The constant prodding and poking and testing, that’s what was pushing them over the edge. The drugs were just a safety line, that last little piece of wire that stopped them from falling. Unless ‘they’ decided that they wanted them to.

Without a word I took the trolley and headed down the nearest corridor. The laughter and screaming faded behind me as I left the cells behind. Normally I’d just take the damn things and dispose of them but there were two who needed it: Shan and the other one. It was so quiet that all I could hear was the thumping of my feet on the solid floor and the ringing of my breaths in my ears.

The heavy door loomed before me in the dim light. Another of Ashford's secrets. Even the patients themselves didn’t know about this one.

I took the container of drugs from the trolley and slid open the shaft the door. The room was dark, defined only by the outlines of the bed and toilet. Inhaling deeply I shot my arm through the shaft hole and dropped the box of pills. Then I felt it. It was bony thin and deathly cold. It gripped onto my wrist with such force that my shoulder smacked the frame of the shaft. I pushed my feet against the door but couldn’t pry myself loose. Something sharp pierced my skin and I cried out in pain, trying desperately to free my arm.

My arm throbbed with fire. On the other side of this door something was literally trying to bite my arm off and I was helpless to stop it. Fumbling for my keys as shaky hand managed to claw the key into the lock and unlock it. With a defiant kick I pushed the door inwards, hitting the patient behind it with such force that it was knocked cleanly to the middle of the room, taking a chunk of my arm with it.

My face tingling with sweat. I pulled my arm from its prison and shut and locked the door. Teeth marks dotted my pale skin and blood seeped from the hole in my lower arm. I strapped my shirt round the wound with my belt and ran with the trolley all the way to the asylum’s medical lab.

I didn’t hear anything the nurse said. My mind was too busy trying to contemplate the series of events that had just progressed before me. It wasn’t the first time this had happened but it was the worst. If I had more guts, maybe I’d find the courage to stop going down there.

“There. You keep that arm well rested okay and visit me every few hours so I can check it.”

I nodded silently, thankful that the asylum’s location required it to have its own hospital on-sight. For the use of staff and security personnel only of course. My arm heavily strapped and bandaged, I dropped the last drug delivery off at Shan's cell and disposed of the rest. The laughs and screams were still very much a common commotion and I decided it was time to try and calm Cross out of her latest fit. Besides, I needed cheering up and she always put me in a good mood.

I traced the usual steps to her door and opened the cell. I saw her instantly, curled in the corner in her fit of hysterics. I closed the door and she stared at me over her arms, giggling darkly. “I was bad…”

I looked across the blood-stained walls. “Yes, you were. But I don’t care.”

She stood up and hopped round the room as I watched her. She stopped a short way away and stared at my damaged arm. “Those doomed to die, you cannot save them. There is no hope for those who have no hope in themselves.” Her voice was calm, stern, and sane. An unusual grin crossed her face and she bounced off, laughing and muttering about butterflies.

I waited until she crossed past me again and wrapped my arms across her waist gently, pulling her close so I could plant a kiss on her forehead. “Someday, I’m gonna get you out of here…” I promised, “…Sakura.”

Crazy Elf Boy
10th July 2006, 05:30 AM
OK here it goes

Name: Steven "Ghost"
Subject Number: KX7R4
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Subject or Staff: Subject
Appearence: He is about 5' 6' medium build and his skin is a milky white from lack of sunlight. His eyes are a deep green, his hair is short and a very dark black. Steven wears a black and grey long sleeve shirt with tiny holes and long dark brown pants.
Personality: Steven is the type of person that keeps his feelings away from everyone and is not very talkative. He also keeps emotions bottled and release them on the person unfortunate enough to push him over the edge.
Weapon: N/A
Power: Shapeshift, Steven can alter the structure of his DNA to resemble anyone living thing he wants. The drawback of the power is he cannot change the colour of his eyes.
History: The only thing that Steven can remember about life outside the asylum is playing in a park with a dog, he was then kidnapped and taken to Ashford's. He has remained here ever since.
Relationships: Good friends with Blinky
Other: ?


I sat on the hard cold bed in the corner of my cell. I could hear screams coming from down the hallway, it seemed that Cross was having another of her fits. I clasped my hands over my ears and hummed a bit to drown out the noise. I hate loud noises but in a place like Ashford's they are a normal occurrence. A guard came along his baton trailing on the bars creating a clanging noise, he stopped and turned towards me.

"Still you Ghost" he said in a sarcastic manner, and then he continued on his round.

I knew that it wasn't the last insult I would hear for the night. Why do they think I am such a big threat, so what if I can change my appearence I can't help it. I also knew that they would take me to complete one of their twisted experiments.

A loud screech awoke from my drifting thoughts, two guards rushed in a held me down put my hands behind my back. One of the scientists came in behind them holding a syringe, he stabbed it in my arm and then pushed releasing the drugs into my blood. My world went dark as I drifted of to unconsciousness.

"That should keep him out for a while" laughed one of the guards.

When I awoke I was sitting in a cold white room sitting on a steel chair. In front on me there was a small cat, behind it was a giant mirror. I knew they were watching me through it, their presence was disturbing.

"Ok do your thing Ghost, or you won't get any food" demanded a muffled voice.

That's all they thought of us like animals trained to do special tricks, rewarding us with food. This was inhumane, I knew what I had to do. I concentrated for a while, I felt my skin ripple, my hands started to form small paws. My body grew smaller, fur sprouted from my skin. Soon it was complete I was an exact copy of the cat in front of me, with one difference the colour of my eyes was a brilliant green compared to the cats dull grey.

A guard rushed through the door, scooped me up and put me in a cat carrier. Through the tight wire of the cage another syringe poked through piercing my skin, I started to feel drowsy again. Damnit I thought to myself, I knew I shouldn't have trusted him.

I felt the carrier move, where were they taking me. The carrier was thrown into a cell, though it wasn't mine. Was this my new cell?, the drugs kicked in and fell to the bottom on the carrier asleep.

10th July 2006, 07:14 AM
Name: Setzer Maringber (5th Incarnation)
Subject Number: BW236801
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Subject or staff: Subject

Appearance: Since he changes whenever he's about to die, I'll describe his current incarnation: about 5'4'', brown eyes, black messy hair that looks like a comb has never touched his head, usually wears a black t-shirt under a black leather overcoat. He wears tattered black jeans. He is sometimes known to wear sunglasses when sleeping.
Personality: His current incarnation is a little more optimistic, considering he has all the knowledge and memories of his previous incarnations, all 4 of them. He sometimes gets a little carried away, he is prone to making sarcastic comments and sometimes rude ones at random. He's very clever when it comes to de-generating relationships and alliances, with 6 words or more/less. Generally an odd guy.

Weapon: None.

Power: Regeneration, but instead of healing, it changes all his physical features (and mental) entirely. He is fully healed from all kinds of sickness, regardless of what the sickness is. The downside is that he can't do much for 15 hours. He basically has to stay asleep or inactive for that long before he is fully regenerated. During this time, he may breathe out some of the energy which forms a gaseous orange cloud that goes straight into the sky. If he is forced to be active at all during these 15 hours, he will probably faint, prolonging his need to stay asleep. This means to not expect him to be fatally injured in a fight, regenerate, then have a comeback. That simply can't happen without him being knocked out for a day or two.

History: Born in a family that actually worked in Ashford Asylum. He was always brought up to be a guard, no mercy to the subjects. He was 10 when he was taken to the Asylum to have his DNA checked to make sure he was 'clean'. The doctors found no anomalies. It seemed he was as human as you get. When he was 13, he was badly injured during an experiment gone awry. It was his first day as a guard-in-training. He was shot in the arm, leg, and slightly in the skull. In the medical room, the doctors picked up a buildup of power in his body. Then he regenerated from the 1st to the 2nd. The Asylum immediately took him in. They started doing all sorts of experiments on him. They found little or nothing. Then they tried to get him to regenerate again, by exposing him to lethal radiation. He regenerated from the 2nd to the 3rd incarnation. Every time, his physical appearance changed, and his mental capacity increased every time. Going to the 3rd to the 4th happened when the scientists forced him without injuring him. Going from the 4th to the current 5th incarnation will occur after he's thrown in a cell after being injected with a potent form of a lethal disease. (That will be as soon as the RPG starts...)
Relations: None.

Other: He has been in the Asylum for two years. His family no longer even notices him. He's quite intelligent. Unfortunately, he doesn't have the chance to use it. He's Russian, too.
Don't worry- Daleks won't suddenly appear from nowhere or anything. Neither will the Cybermen, or ghosts that turn into Cybermen...yeah. Hope it's not -too- far-fetched.

(Setzer Maringber-4th=5th)
I had just been thrown into my cell for the umpteenth time. This time, things started getting hot. All I remembered was a sharp pain. A needle of sorts. They injected loads of some sort of potent disease into me. Not much time was left.
I noticed a camera in the corner. They wanted to see me regenerate. They were no doubt scanning me, and they would without a doubt find nothing...

"Huh...buildup of power in the blood stream..." A scientist pondering while looking at a wall of TVs, all showing different scans of the camera. The scientists had been trying everything. They would take anything they found out of me.
"So this will be the fifth regeneration..."

I could only feel sweat, heat, and some unknown building power. I was in a corner, scrunched up, shivering from a fever. I knew that within a few minutes, I would either die or regenerate again. Someone in the opposite cell was staring. It was at that exact moment that a burst of energy went off at my ankles. I sprang up, clinging to the walls as if I was trying to climb it. I turned around, and my palms were emanating a weird orange glow. The power was still building. I started wondering, of all things, about my family. They didn't consider me one of their own, and some odd things started popping into my head, like a vacation to Russia. Moscow to be exact. It was planned, but then I regenerated from 1st to 2nd. All my memories of previous incarnations started pouring into consiousness. My brain overloaded and everything happened at once.

Un-measurable ammounts of power screamed out of my being, and it felt like I was in the middle of a raging fire. The orange energy bursted from my mouth, and seemed to come out of my jacket sleeves, as well. All I could feel was a sudden blackness.
It felt like hours. Features of my body changed quickly.

Suddenly, it all came back. The energy stopped flowing. I gasped a breath.
And my new personality emerged.
So where was I...oh yeah! I'm the 5th. Go me! I thought.

10th July 2006, 01:22 PM
Name: Arsenal

Subject Number: (only for subjects)

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Subject or staff: Staff

Appearance: Arsenal's body is generally covered in a large white cloak which he wears around his body, clasped at the neck, sternum, and waist with small silver chains. On the back of the cloak is an emboidered pair of wings in black thread. He wears the hood of the cloak up or down as he feels like it. Under his cloak he sports a sleeveless red tunic lined in black with similarly colored trousers and boots. His hair is short and somewhat spikey and is colored a sort of blonde/white. His deep green eyes are set off by his short beard and moustache that he keeps impecably trimmed. His well muscled arms seems to have thin bands of metal wrapped around them seemingly at random though their true purpose is revealed quickly in battle. See attached picture for his facial features.

Personality: Extremely brooding, Arsenal is one of the few staff members that still sees the subjects as people and thusly he is torn in his duty. He understands the benefit of what the facility is attempting to do, the experiments that could benefit humanity as a whole (at least that is what he is told) but he is deeply troubled by the conditions that the subjects are put under. This had led to Arsenal putting a level of distance between him and the other staffers and he had been known to sit quietly in a break room or stand alone in the hallways simply thinking troubling matters over and over in his mind. When his quiet nature is broken through however he can be quite amicable.

Weapon: MWS (Multiple Weapons System). Arsenal's arms, and other parts of his body, have been replaced with an advanced form of concealed weaponry. The bands that seem to wrap around his arms are actually the seams in the system that break apart to reveal one of the several weapons that Arsenal possess. Known, or rumored, weapons present in the system are small sub-machine guns, sharp blades that extend over the hands, tranquilzier dart systems, a neural net in his left arm, and small grenades fired from his right arm with multiple functions. It is also known that his left eye has been replaced by a small computer that helps with targeting and operating the MWS. Other weapons are a possibility but as of yet have not been revealed.

Power: Subjects only. Be creative

History: Arsenal was part of an experimental test group for the MWS when he was ninteen . As it was, the addition of the computer needed to operate the system caused irreparable psychosis in all of the subjects save for Arsenal. It was later decided that inoperable brain damage Arsenal had recieved during a teenaged car crash, formerly thought unimportant to normal brain function, was acting as a "buffer" between the maddening effects of the computer and Arsenal's psyche. Unable to replicate the brain damage, despite multiple fatal attempts to other subjects, the MWS project was trashed. Arsenal however was reassigned multiple times as a security specialist until he finally made his way to Ashford Asylum where he has worked for four years. His life before the MWS project was typical, he was raised in a middle-class family and joined the military when he was unable to come up with the money for college. His parents are both alive and he stays in contact with them, and his brother, though they do not know about the MWS that was installed in him (Classified Information).

Relations: Parents (Alive), Brother (Fighter Pilot), Subjects (is on somewhat friendly terms with many of them despite his role as a security specialist. Distrusts Seige)

Other: Has a tiny black cat that usually rides around on his shoulder (despite regulations) whom he talks to as a confidant (some attribute it to the brain damage).


The sharp sound of booted footsteps echoed down the corridor, ringing in the ears of the subjects seqeuested in their small cells. A flash of white past the openings of their doors was the only hint the subjects recieved of who was passing by. Relief filled the minds of many of them, the Live Weapon didn't hand out drugs, didn't do any tests...

Let them find what it is they're looking for...then they can shut this hellhole down and let these people go...

Arsenal sighed to himself as he passed cell after cell, seeing the frightened gaze of those within as they feared the coming of yet another drugging or test. He hated their looks of hopelessness. A soft "mreow" shifted his attention from the wretched creatures he had been forced to help create. A ghost of a smile flittered across Arsenal's face as he responded to his cat's comment, "No Ares, I'm not on assignment. Just stretching my legs."

The suspicious look he earned for that comment made Aresenal chuckle. Nonetheless he ignored the inquisitive mreowing of his companion and continued his march through the cells. As he walked, he seemed to flex his hands almost compulsivly, soft whirring noises acompanying each motion. A sudden end to the noise was brought as Arsenal's march brought him to his destination. His cloak fluttered for a moment, its inertia taking a moment to be diminshed by the quick stop. He stood in front of a cell, like any other, seeming to gather his thoughts for a moment before speaking, "You want out of here don't you?"

Silence greeted him.

"Yeah...I know, everyone here does. If only it were possible..."

(Feel free to jump in)

10th July 2006, 03:33 PM

~Dancing through life, skimming the surface, gliding where turf is smooth~

My solitude was disrupted by someone stopping at my cell. At first I assumed it was another one of them, come to take me in for my daily experiments.

But it wasn't.

I'd seen this one around a time or two. He was the one the subjects called the Live Weapon.. Arsenal, I believe was what he was actually called. An intriguing one, he was. He oftened talked to his cat, which made him out to be just as insane as some of us were.

Perhaps that's why it made him easy to trust.

"You want out of here don't you?"

I sat frozen in silence, still pinned to my bed by my own volition. My thoughts were turning over and over in my head like some sort of psychotic ballet. Want out? Of course! It was all I ever wanted.

I stared down at my bands as he continued. "Yeah...I know, everyone here does. If only it were possible..."

"If only," I repeated. I stood up and walked towards the cell door. "Nothing ever gets done on 'if only's.'"

"I don't suppose you have a plan?" He said, his face devoid of any emotion.

"No," I replied flatly. I placed a hand on one of the bars and sighed. "I've tried though."

"Many have," he mused. "And they all fail."

"One day, someone won't," I murmered. "I can only hope they're nice enough to save everyone and not just themselves." I looked up at him, eyes narrowed. "I don't suppose you're trying to get into my head like all the others, are you? Trying to see just how rebellious I really am?"

"No," he said dryly. "I wouldn't dream of it."

I wasn't certain I believed him, but a part of me felt compelled to trust him anyway. I watched him move along the rows, occasionally stopping to talk to another one of us- probably discussing the same matters he'd discussed with me.

We need more people like him around here...


I swore. Mr. Nice Guy (*Sarcasm*) had returned. His crocodile smile filling his face as he stopped in front of my cell.

"How about a few tests before lunch, angel?"

It sounded like a question, but it most certainly wasn't.

He wants me to scream like they all do eventually. He likes to hear them scream, the sadistic bastard...

But I won't scream... I'll never scream...

10th July 2006, 04:05 PM
Name: Treize
Subject Number: T54YX0
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Subject or staff: Subject
Appearance: Alex is a blonde kid, only 5' 4" and is quite scrawny. He never smiles much and no one has heard his laugh in years. He has bright blue eyes and an unblemished appearance. However, his transformation into Loki changes his appeance completely. While his face remains somewhat the same, his hair becomes black with red streaks, his eyes turn red and his teeth look more menacing. He grows slightly but his muscles also grow.
Personality: Alex is timid, shy and for this he often gets bullied. He is not a coward, but just lacks bravery or courage. He never shows negative emotions, or if he does, they are very brief, for unleashing these emotions will unleash Loki, a loud, crude, rowd and obnoxious demon who has little regard for anyone or anything.
Power: His subconscious hides two others, one which has been unlocked. The subject's birth name is Alex, but the entity is nicknamed Treize for simplicity. One of his subconscious personalities is called Loki, who can be best described as anarchic and demonic. He has enhanced strength, speed, agility and is incredibly violent and unpredictable. Loki changes Alex's appearance and personality completely but is only triggered by anger, stress, hate or other negative emotions. The second subconscious personality has yet to be revealed.
History: Alex was a normal country boy who was picked on by his brothers and his school mates for his small stature and timidness. He longed to have a protector who would make the bad people go away and this is where Loki came in. Alex had learned from his bullies that hate, prejudice and pain were the only paths to power, and so Loki was all the negative emotions Alex had experienced personified. During his teenage years, Loki manifested himself and took over Alex's body. He started fires, killed bullies and wounded others. With vengeance sought, Alex took control again. He realised he must keep control of his emotions but knew he was now a wanted man. He went on the run, but has so far failed to control his emotions, allowing Loki to take control time and time again. He was tranquilised once at night by Ashford officials and taken to the Asylum.
Relations: No significant family to speak of
Other: Nope.



I was still under the effects of the drugs I was administered, although my consciousness and sight was returning. As I woke up, I discovered I was in a straitjacket of sorts. I could barely remember how I got here, but I knew before I had been brought here I was on the run. My surroundings were becoming more coherent. I was in a cell, and sat on a bed. I was deciding to make sense of the situation - somehow they had finally managed to subdue Loki, which is good for me, but now I'm being incarcerated for Loki's misdeeds. I decided not to struggle against my bonds - my emotions must remain under control and I needed to think straight. Just thinking about Loki's existence brought his demonic voice into my head.
You called?
Loki hissed in my head. I tried to focus my thoughts on seemingly random things, such as bicycles, ice cream, African tree lizards and wireless modems. To fill my head with nonsense would rid my mind of him.

Suddenly another voice came into my head.
Hello, new inmate.
I looked around. No one was in hear. I looked up to see if there was a tannoy but no. The voice spoke again.
Do not be alarmed. I am a telepath named Spectre. You are only the latest of several inmates they have recently brought here.
Okay, this guy was reading my thoughts. Thanks to Loki, I don't trust voices in my head, so I'll be cautious in case this is some kind of trick. I began thinking,
"Okay, so where am I? Jail?"
Much worse. You in some kind of experimental facility. You must possess some kind of power, or ability that sets you out from others.
"I have a curse, but I'd rather not talk about him."
Now, now Alex, is that anyway to talk about your best friend in the world?
What the...
"It's getting too crowded in here!" I yelled out loud and realised my speech began to become more demonic. I was losing control. I began breathing heavily and ran over to the sink, using my limited mobility to splash water in my face. I fell onto my bed and my face buried into my pillow, I began sobbing softly.

10th July 2006, 04:23 PM
My guys all lonely... :'-( lol j/k


Damn it was cold in this cell. So god damned cold. The guards had come in and sprayed the water on him, and instantly he felt immense pain. It hurt so much that it was almost unbearable. He felt as if his skin was melting away, every single piece of him was being ripped into two. He almost couldn't believe how much it was hurting. He thought he was invincible, could never be hurt, but here, they had sent him into a flurry of pain with a bucket of water.

Slowly, the pain started to melt away,but he could still feel the sting of water.God damned water. How could he of let this happen? How?

He slowly stood up and went over his small, perfectly white bed. He tried to wipe his hands off on the sheets, but the blood had already dried on his knuckles. He silently cursed to himself, and layed himself down on the bed. He tried to think of how he had got here, how they could have captured him. But then again, it was somewhat obvious. He had a weakness to water, so obviously all they had to o was spray him. Yet... If it was that easy , how come they hadn't stopped him earlier?

His thoughts were interrupted.

"Alright, Johnathan Cross," He heard the unlocking of his door, and the footsteps of two guards coming into his room.

"Time for another blood sample I suppose?" He said weakly, rolling off of the bed and on to the floor. He looked up at the two staff. Both were hugely bulked, and very tall, nearly 6'7'". These men were massive.

"No no no, you already got your blood tested today, didn't you?" He asked.

"Yes, I did. So what are you going to do to me now?" John asked sarcastically.

"We've got some tests to run," He said, and swiftly punched John in the face. He felt his fist connect with his cheek, nearly crushing his jaw, and sending his head flying the other way. He felt blood rush out and he spit it out. He felt dizzy as he stood back up and wiped the blood off his face, and then was quickly kicked hard in the scrotum with the guards steel toed boot. John quickly fell down to the floor, and spit out a bit more blood. He felt the two guards grab his arms and start to drag him out of his cell. He groaned as he was dragged across the floor. What were they going to do?

He slowly lost the power to stay awake and blacked out.

10th July 2006, 07:34 PM
Name: Some have nicked her, "Lost" but those who don't know her well just call her Zia.
Subject Number: ZIA04 (the workers often call her, "Zia" due to her number)
Age: Unknown: 13 - 16 ??
Gender: Female
Subject or staff: Subject
Appearance: She has a small and rather graceful build, although she looks a bit delicate at first glance. Her skin is milky pale and her eyes are a daunting almost light silver-like blue, reminding many of an 'icy' color. Her hair is thick and wavy, reaching about slightly past her neckline and being a rich white blonde in color with a few strawberry blonde streaks. Upon her body she wears simplistic and baggy black pants with silver-threaded hem work. These pants have a silky composition to them and often waver and flow swiftly with every movement that she makes. Upon her top she wears a tight, long-sleeved black top that hugs to her body and exposes her abdomen a bit. However, the black top has several cuts and rips in it so to look slightly slashed. She usually wears no shoes, but if she is forced to then they are mere flip-flops or sandals. Upon her neck is a silver collar that almost seems so tight that it never moves and often flexes against her muscles.
Personality: Zia or Lost is quite complicated. At times she is perfectly coherent and can seem extremely intelligent. Almost insanely intelligent... like she knows far too much for a girl of her age (or appearance of age). She can seem level-headed and is quite the listener and bringer of advice. Yet... she has another side as well. She, and often within a few days of meeting her or less, is insane to say the least. She can revert into an extremely childish mode in which she refers to herself in third person and clings onto things like a child. She often needs a great deal of support or comfort and if not given... she will cry and wail and throw a tantrum. She also states things that don't make sense or starts to sing in a rather eerie voice.
Weapon: N/A
Power: Emotional Energies (There is no true definition of her powers.) It seems that various amounts of unexplained things happen around her when her emotions change. They have been any where from smelling a faint aroma of lilacs when she is happy, to having light bulbs explode or metal bars bend slightly in rage or extreme anger. Because of this, they often keep an array of chemical depressants near her... although they must carefully monitor how much they give her because too much of it causes more ill affects.
History: Zia has no apparent history that anyone is familiar with. It seems that if she had a history... it was wiped out a long time ago. Zia has a bit of recollection of this past, although she usually never talks about it... and if she does, it usually comes with a huge wave of emotion. Her parents were in league with the Asylum, having worked there... but ironically enough, their own daughter showed signs of power. Unable to deal with the fact that their daughter was like that... they submitted her into their own sort of 'asylum'- in their basement. They didn't want her placed in the real asylum, but they were curious and wanted to know why their daughter was the way she was. Yet, their tests were horrific and certainly unparental-like... and eventually they viewed her as a mere tool or subject than as a daughter. One night however they pushed her too far... and her emotional outburst was so great that she managed to kill her parents. How? Well... eventually she'll reveal that, but for now that is top secret. ^_~ Needless to say, people found her... calls were made... and bam. She was put in the asylum.
Relations: Friends with Cross- two insane peas in a pod. Seraphim is like a mother to Lost, and often tries to control her emotions better like Seraphim does. She knows a lot of people and it is pretty hard not to know her… most likely because she occasionally makes a lot of noises. She seems to be creepy in the fact that she can communicate with Loki on some odd level.
Other: She has a phobia or extreme fear of the color pink.


.: Lost | F :.

ZIA04 was slumped against a wall, lowering her head so that her beacon-like hair of whitish blonde hovered over her face. Her shoulders seemed to sag low as she let her hands simply sprawl themselves, palms up, upon the floor. Her knees were bent at odd angles and it almost seemed as if she had passed out or perhaps had died. However, the room she was in was brightly illuminated with brilliant pale lights and it caused her black, slightly torn pieces of clothing to stand out against her pale flesh and the room. The room itself was not your typical ‘asylum’ styled room. It was dank and wet… made out of cement and containing pipe covers everywhere. If it weren’t for the bright lights… it most likely would have seemed like the most depressing cell that one would have imagined.
“Zia dear… stop pretending.” A cold voice seemed to stretch upon the air, filled with nothing but a sickly sarcastic means. The man stood tall and broad shouldered with thick black hair and a vulture-like profile. His beady eyes stared at Zia like a hungry wolf, a smirk plastered upon his face while he seemed to wait. Next to him were two other men, both of them armed with some sort of weapon and they seemed a bit anxious.
“Sir, she is usually drugged. This is a typical reaction of-“
“No.” The man retorted. “She was not drugged this morning on my orders. I wanted to see if she wanted to be a good girl.” The man lowered himself to the floor although he kept a good distance away from Zia.
“Zia dear… are you going to be a good girl for daddy?”

Suddenly, Zia’s head jerked upwards and snapped back so violently that it caused the two men to jump back. Two white-blue eyes seemed to shoot venom with her glare, staring straight from beneath a few loose hair strands. Suddenly Zia shot upwards, standing upon two of her feet and she assumed a normal human stance. She was not very tall… but some thing about her was eerie- some thing that surrounded her always seemed to demand a certain amount of respect… or perhaps fear. The men swiftly pointed their guns at her but the man stood up and shook his head.
“Do not shoot.” He then took a step towards Zia, smirking still. Reaching out he touched her face, tilting her chin upwards so that he could look into her fierce glaring eyes. “So Zia, are you going to be a good girl? Are you going to work for daddy?”
Zia did not answer, instead she remained silent but she continued to stare at him. She did not blink nor did she move… she just continued to stare that same fierce glare. This perturbed the man and he frowned, suddenly withdrawing his hand and slapping the girl across the face.
“Zia, I spoke to you! Speak for daddy!”
Zia did not speak.
Another slap.
“Speak! Daddy com-”

Suddenly one of the lights began to flicker with a strange and uneven hum. Zia began to breath deeply as her chest rose and fell more audibly as she suddenly looked down and away from the man. Her fists clenched as she spoke- her voice cool and yet containing an eerie childish rebellion.
“You are not my daddy.”
“I am your new dad.”
More lights began to flicker as she clenched her fists more, scrunching her eyes closed.
“I have no daddy!”
“Zia, yes you do. I am you father and you will work-“

Suddenly the other two men gave a shout as the lights above exploded in a brilliant display of glass, plastic and wires. The whole room seemed to shake slightly as the pipes began to tremble. One particularly large pipe began to groan loudly as the screws began to loosen and swirl outwards. A few smaller pipes began to bend and pop as steam seemed to hiss, and the man who had slapped Zia turned to the other two men.
“Okay… hit her with the depressant.”
Nodding, they rose their guns and one of them fired upon her. Zia bit her lip absently as she felt the needle pluck into her stomach, but her eyes remained open as she continued to clench her fists as tears of rage dripped down her face. The large pipe had lost a few screws and now was starting to enlarge, until suddenly it burst right above one of the two men with the guns. Boiling hot water and steam fell upon his body and he screamed in agony- dropping his gun and screaming still. Sizzling sounds entered the air as the other man moved away and yelled in horror and fright. Swiftly loading his gun, he fired upon Zia again but this time the dart was filled with anesthetic. Zia felt a soft prickling upon her chest and she gave a little cry before slowly dropping to the floor after a few seconds. They gave no care as to how much was loaded in the particular anesthetic dart.

The room however had been done in for the time being. The lights were gone, the room was dark and the only light was the light from the open door. “Always keep doors open with Zia”- that was a highly recommended move when transporting her. The man who had called himself ‘daddy’ shook his head and calmly walked out of the room.
“Take her back.”
“Sir… what about him?” The man shakily said, almost unbelieving that he did not seem to care about his boiled partner.
“I said take her back. Leave him.”
Slowly but baffled, he nodded. Walking to the girl he warily picked up her unconscious body, throwing Zia over his shoulder. He slowly walked past the crumpled and crying man… although his breaths and sobs were slowly becoming slower and his body was entirely mutilated by burns. Refusing to look, the man continued to walk.

Slowly, the man walked through the long corridor filled with cells. He went by many familiar cells… ones that he knew the names to those whom they belonged. It was eerie… and although he knew that most perhaps could not see him, he felt that most could. He felt that they all knew he was there… and that he held Zia. Perhaps they had heard the yells and screams? Or perhaps… there was another factor… some thing one couldn’t place.
Gulping back his fear, he neared Zia’s cell and he opened it and swiftly plopped her upon the floor. Zia looked so innocent now… and perhaps a bit sad in her crumpled, knocked out position. Still, after the horrific scene… the man had a hard time believing any innocence. He swiftly shut the door and then practically ran out of the corridor, shutting the door behind him.

[ woot ]

10th July 2006, 08:26 PM

Arsenal stood quietly at the end of the row of cells, leaning against one of the sterile metal walls that seemed so fitting in such a horrible place. He didn't want to be here anymore, he didn't want to see the sights that he was forced to watch each and every day. He didn't want to go off in pursuit of escaped subjects....he didn't want to kill any more innocent kids. But he kept doing it...because what they were studying here was for the benefit of all humanity.

Is it?

Arsenal's head snapped up from the resting position it had fallen in, a suspicious eye flitting towards Ares who seemed to shrug slightly.

So they aren't part of that humanity eh?

Standing erect so quickly that the hood of his cloak fell sullenly from his head, Arsenal's eyes narrowed, "I don't like my mind being invaded Spectre."

Oh no, this isn't Spectre...this is something far more personal. Something you haven't listened too for a long time...

The sound of footsteps again echoed across the hall. The girl he had been talking to was being escorted by one of the staff members, a certain Dr. Weslian who was known for his...unique...tests. They were quickly approaching him, the girl...Seraphim was what the others called her...obviously drugged up enough so she wasn't resisting.

Think for a second nimrod, if they finally break the code that makes these people like they are, who's going to benefit? The military, the ones with the guns. You want your little bro to be sprouting tentacles so he can fly better? You want them to do to him what they did to you with machines?


Great, now you figure out what you really feel. Jesus Christ, why do I even stick around? Now listen up, these guys -can- do something good for the world, but not the way they're doing it. You'd best find a way to change what you're helping them do around here.

"helped them do.............dammit."

Yeah, nice to know you're catching on. Hey, you want to start by making sure this guy doesn't kill that girl accidently?

An arm raised, a finger pointed. There was a sharp whirring as a small port on the tip of the finger opened, followed by the subtle tugging as the nanorazor wire began to spool out. As the good Doctor and his ward neared the sullen guard, Arsenal subtly flicked his finger laterally. Without warning the Doctor stopped, a stunned look on his face. Seraphim, drugged into compliance, couldn't stop before running into the man's back. Before comprehension could strike, a strong arm grabbed her own and tugged her back down the lane of cells until she found herself back in her cell once again. A soft voice spoke to her, "You were never taken from your cell, the Doctor never came. Remember that when you wake up...and don't think I'm helping you escape, you try and I'll stop you as quick as I stopped him."

Far down the hallway, a faint halo of red appeared around the Doctor's neck, a horrible squishing noise announcing the falling of his head to the ground. Arsenal turned and looked, he'd need to clean that up before moving on.

Well......you didn't -have- to kill him....but it guess that works. Might want to restrain yourself in the future somewhat....kinda still need their help

Arsenal muttered, much to Ares' confusion. The cat didn't like it when his master became so confusing. Arsenal didn't like it when his conscious gave him such an attitude.

Darkmaster Kagemusha
10th July 2006, 09:41 PM
Name: Dr. Emma Lathe
Subject Number: N/A
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Subject or staff: Staff
Appearance: Emma stands at approximately 5'8" tall, and is relatively thin, but not nearly so much as to look like a model. She does have a gently curving figure, brought out, somewhat, by the waist-hugging t-shirts she likes to wear, though she always wears baggy cargo pants.. Her shoulder length dark brown hair has an unnatural patch of white just to the right of the part in her hair, near her hairline, that grows out into a streak that she gave up trying to dye years ago. She keeps her bangs grown out and because she wears her hair parted, her bright green eyes and elegant face are easily seen. She is not beautiful in the way most people would see, but she is still fairly attractive, despite the wavy scar across her left cheek.
Personality: She tends to be caring and motherly, but to those she dislikes she is quite cold toward unless it is in the interest of her job to act otherwise.
Weapon: Steyr M-40: http://world.guns.ru/handguns/steyr_m-1a_1.jpg
Power: N/A
History: Emma grew up with no mother and a drunken father, so she preferred to spend most of her time locked up in her room studying and reading. She did very well in school, but ran into trouble at home, especially the night she came home late because she'd been invited to study with some of her friends. Her father threw a fit about her being disrespectful, and he cut a long, wavy line across her left cheek with his pocket knife, saying that if she ever did something like that again, he'd make her mouth open at the ears. At that point in her life, she still had high school to get through, so she did as she was told and graduated valedictorian, and with a full scholarship, which she used to earn a degree in psychology, and worked her way through school to a doctorate before she was hired on at Ashford as the Head Psychologist and Counsellor.
Relations: She tries to be friendly with everyone, and enjoys spending time with Shan, though she doesn't like subject KJ666, "Blinky"
Other: N/A

Dr. Emma Lathe

I sighed as I left my office. The entire facility was dreary and dismal, but for some reason, my office seemed the worst. Maybe it was because I was forced to spend so much time in it, or that I had to deal with so many irritating staff members, or perhaps it was the fact that they had given me a lab coat, which I used to decorate the coat rack by the door. Why would you give a lab coat to a psychologist? I could never figure it out, nor could I figure out what on earth these people were trying to accomplish by locking up anyone who wasn't normal. It seemed sick, and that's not even including the beatings and painful experiments. I knew Shan was a drug addict, which made the experiments all the worse for him, because he needed the drugs to stay sane, but his dependency was becoming quite alarming. That, in fact, was what I left my office to do--to talk to Shan. I had to do my weekly evaluations soon anyway, and it would give me a chance to unwind before getting into my full-swing psychological mindset to deal with people like Cross and Lost, and the mental strength to deal with those like Spectre and Poltergeist. Shan was not only someone I enjoyed talking to--which is rare, especially when it comes to men--but he gets me warmed up for the rest of the crew--subjects and pets, as many of the scientists called them. I quite disliked the way Ashford was run, but it wasn't time yet for my little coup, since I preferred cunning over violence. I would have to bide my time, but in the meantime, I had arrived at the door of Shan's cell, not even realizing I had travelled so far, and knocked on the bars. I preferred to be polite, even in such circumstances. "Shan, dear," I said gently, "are you available?" I realized that he was likely heavily drugged, but I was hoping he would be coherent enough to speak with me. A short time had passed in silence, and I was beginning to worry, but he finally answered.

"Come on in, Doctor. You have the key, afterall..." he said. His voice seemed a bit drawn and sad, but with the hard edge of anger that let me know that he was most definitely not in the best of moods. That was alright, I suppose, though it would not be the best time to deal with his addiction. It would be much more interesting and valuable to find out what he was thinking, and perhaps what the others were thinking, if he knew. I felt bad about asking him about the others because I didn't want to violate their trust, but in the same respect, I hold doctor/patient confidentiality over the heads of my superiors so as to keep any plots and thoughts of violence out of the ears of those who would do harm to them. I opened the door to Shan's cell and stepped inside. A guard nearby made a move to supervise me--obviously a new guy--but I waved him off and showed him my badge.

"So," I said softly, sitting down on the edge of Shan's cot. "what's on your mind?"

10th July 2006, 10:50 PM

Slowly, things were starting to come back to John. After taking a small beating from that security guard, he was just starting to stir. He could finally feel on his back the cold steel floor, see the harsh light coming into his eyes, feel the hot temperature in the room... He slowly started to rise to his feet, still spinning from the beating he took earlier.

"Ah, Mr.Cross, it seems that you have finally awoken..." A metallic voice came from nowhere. John looked around the room, but all he could see was the cold steel walls. There was nothing... Just a small steel room. "As you may of been informed earlier, we want to do some tests on you. You see.. We want to see how far it takes to...Start you up. So for this job, we brought in one of our bulkiest stafff, Ryan Wright.

From behind him, he heard the hiss of pure oxygen leaving the room, and a man stepping into the room. The same man who had caused him to faint. His grey piercing eyes stared at him, and he gave him a devlish smile, cracking his knuckles.

"We have told this man he can do whatever he wants to you... As long as he doesn't kill you. But one missing subject wouldn't hurt us, now would it?" The voice said.

"Well well well, time for me to beat the hell outta you. I'm going to enjoy this." He smirked, and walked over to him. In defense, Torch swung his fist, connecting with the guards head. His head snapped backwards, and when it turned back around, a small flow of blood was going down his chin. "Your going to regret that bitch," He said, and swung back at Torch. He connected with his face, sending him a few feet back. The guard shoved him back against the wall, and swung again, hitting him in the stomach. He pounded him five more times, before whipping him to the other sided of the room. Torch could feel the taste of blood in his mouth.

"How does it feel, you stupid son of-" He was cut off as Torch kicked him in the stomach, sending him back a bit. Torch slowly got back to his feet, but was kicked back into the wall with a ferocious kick to the stomach.

John felt nearly no pain as the guard beat on him in the corner. He felt his temper rising though. His blood was boiling, he felt as if he wanted to rip the guard in half. A fresh stream of blood was running down his black t-shirt. He slowly felt his skin start to boil. The guard stopped for a minute to take a rest, walking back and wiping the blood from his fists on his shirt.

Turning around, the guard noticed something wrong about him. He seemed ore different, and he slowly walked up to him. He looked straight into his eyes, and finally noticing it, he started to slowly back up.

His eyes were dark red. Something was wrong. He had to get out-

Torch suddenly lit on fire, his whole body lit on flames. His piercing red eyes stared at him, with only one word written on them: Death.

Nearly five minutes later, all that remained of Ryan Wright was a charred corpse. Torch had never felt so much power in his life. If he wanted to, he could break out of this god damned asylum right now.

But his party was ruined. Nearly ten guards rushed into the room, all armed with fire extingusher and buckets and buckets of ice cold water. He felt the burn as he was extingushed, once again he felt as if his skin was melting off. He took one last look at the charred body, and feel to blackness.

Waking up again, he finally sat back at home, in his small cell. The bloodied wall was there, the small cot, the sink which he would never use, the concrete floor... He went over to his corner and curled up, thinking of all of the gruesome deaths he had given.

Crystal Tears
11th July 2006, 12:00 AM
[font=Arial Narrow]
Anger, she was angry now. Her face became one of pouting and she stepped away from the staff member. She was fuming; she didn't want to leave, or maybe she did. But not without her family, how dare he try to take her away from them.

She laughed, looking at him. "I don't even know you." Continuing to giggle, she let her legs give out so she land on the floor near the back of the cell. "You can't take me away with bringing my wings along." She pointed to the cell next to hers, and then to the Angels cell.

Turning away from everyone she faced the corner, running her two fingers gently down her own wrist as she tried to get some grasp on reality. She cringed, laughing softly to herself as things began entering her mind, memories of people, their names, her friends, and her family...

Glancing back at the staff member, Cross-raised an eyebrow. "Ryoss..." She then looked over at her older sister. "Cameron..." Finally, her eyes settle on the wall separating her from her other sister. "Lost..." Other names floated into her mind as well. Like Reed, she remembered him, wasn't his cell close by? She glanced around her small little world... She couldn't remember.

Then Sakura popped into her mind, which was the name he had called her. Crossn laughed in such a way she could've run shivers down the coldest mans spine. She scampered over to her bed, and lay there, facing towards the wall.

"Sakura is dead." She huffed, angered by the thought of even being called that. "She died along with her daddy, only Cross now." A cruel giggle emitted from her mouth as she touched the cell wall. "I don't know Ryoss, maybe Sakura did."

Who was she talking to? Her own mind doubted that he was even there, she wanted to be with her sisters, light hearted and free, forgetting how insane she was for a moment of peace in her mind. Cross flipped around on her bed, closing her eyes for a moment. Before opening them up to see Ryoss again.
A sick smile grew on her face as she stood up, hands placed behind her back, she walked over to the man, eyes tinkling with deception.

"You want to help me escape...?" Cross question, seeing the nervousness in Ryoss's face. She gently placed her hand behind his head, resting it upon his neck. "Then get me my wings..." She took his hand, surprisingly soft for someone like him, as he looked... Unforgiving. Lightly brushing his index over her shoulder. He could feel it, the chip that bound her into insanity.

"They said you couldn't change willingly..."

Cross's lower lip quivered, eyes twitching she locked her gaze with Ryoss's, she felt her eyes change. No doubt they were white, just plain out white. With this aura of godliness around them, she stared at Ryoss.

"You want to play..." She threatened, not even thinking of what she was doing, her hand had made its way around to the front of his neck, and then she grasped. Easily lifting him off of his feet. "Then play... Say you care about me... He... But you only want a good fuck. I swear to whatever figure you pray to at night you come near her.. Me, and I'll kill you faster then a rabid dog tears apart a rabbit."

A sharp pain in her back made Cross dropped the staff member, turning around enraged she saw a figure. Unsure of whom it was, she blindly attacked, only to be hit quickly, and easily in her stomach. The white eyed girl collapsed onto the floor, gripping her aching torso.

"You know better then to taunt the psychotic ones." The man joked, she realized the voice, it was that man, one of the staff member's friends, cruel, just like him... Playing games with her mind, but never letting her win, not once.

"You didn't have to-"

Cross whimpered, her mind once again becoming jumbled with thoughts, but the pain still remained, and even as the cell door closed, so did the memory. She soon burst into tears, covering her head as she whipped the blanket off of the highly uncomfortable bed, and snuggled into her corner.

"Come on Ryoss. We've got rounds to do..."

A heavy sigh emitted from the tricky one, she snarled, glancing across the hallway to see the angel slumped, after the man with the kitten had put her there. She smiled; carefully scooting over to her bars, she looked at her sister.

"Sister! Sister!" Cross whispered, giggling as her sister seemed a bit out of it. "Sister! You look a bit sick." she found this hilarious, covering her mouth to drown her laughing. "Remember to smile! World always gets lighter when you smile!"

Hearing voices, and footsteps, Cross scurried back to her corner, trembling as she wrapped the blanket around her again. Her mind attempted to focus on something, ANYTHING to make her world a bit saner.

Sadly... It wasn't working...

11th July 2006, 01:00 AM
Jack "Walker"

The water was cool, and he sipped it slowly in the dark, like a child nursing a bottle. Perhaps he was reverting back to his youth in order to cope with such a strange situation. Dimly, he wondered if sucking his thumb would improve his outlook on things.

The water had a secondary effect- it woke up his stomach, which suddenly seemed- incredibly- empty.He knew he had ate before he had went to sleep, but he didn't really know how long he had been out. Damn.

Just as he was placing the half-empty water skin beneath his mattress, a voice spoke, scaring the shit out of him. Not outward, but inward.

A new inmate, hmm?

"Who's there?" he whispered hoarsely into the darkness. First darkness and guards, now voices in his head? It was too much. He could hear the nervous tremble in his normally tranquil tone.

Relax, I’m speaking to you through telepathy. I’m in the cell on the end, you may have seen it.

Telepathy? Just what kind of place is this?

You’re at Ashford Asylum. In other words, the middle of nowhere! And in case you’re wondering what you’re doing here, well, obviously, you’re not exactly ‘normal’. You’ve got some ‘unnatural’ ability and the ‘good people’ here have found out.

I’m afraid I’ve gotta cut this little talk short. They’ll be coming soon. If you want to learn anything else, me, Scarecrow and Nosferatu have all the answers.

And then the voice is gone. At least, he thinks so. It's kind of hard to tell when a disembodied voice is 'done.' Maybe it could close a door or announce its presence, maybe a ring a non-existent doorbell...
Lord, I'm rambling. But it was to be expected, wasn't it? What if the voice was never there at all, but merely a figment of his imagination?

"No way," Jack muttered, grinning ruefully to himself. Even his subconscious would never have created such stupid names as Nosferatu and Scarecrow. That was kid stuff. But the alternative meant...

For the second time, he wondered just what kind of place this Asylum was. He wasn't insane, was he? Do madmen ponder their madness? Do they ever stop and think, "Hey, maybe the man in front of isn't really there? Maybe the looks on their faces aren't jealousy, but bewilderment?"

The door opened again, blinding him and saving him from another trip down Ramble Road. A burly looking man walked in, holding a baton and wearing no expression at all. "Walker? Let's take a walk."

His tone indicated that he wasn't looking for trouble, and the baton indicated that he was more than ready to handle it if it should come. His stomach prevented him from doing much fighting,anyway. "Fine."

The guard took the blindfold from the ground. It was black, and oddly shiny along the edges. "Blindfold first."

Jack sighed. Wonderful.

11th July 2006, 03:07 AM
I knew that life wouldn't be the same after that fateful day...

"Hey, the names aren't really that stupid... are they?" I asked Walker.

"Poltergeist, sei ruhig, bitte!" Spectre repremanded me. OK, so I was nosey, big deal.

"Sorry, kiddo... going back to my corner, boss..."

I was back in my cell, bored as always... why didn't they have crossword books or newspapers or something for us?

"Heute ist sehr langweilig, mein Freund..." I grumbled to Spectre. He was faintly amused, but didn't respond. Mentally, I shrugged. No one was being any fun today...

Someone was coming down the corridor. I walked over to the door and rattled it a bit. "Oi, stewardess, can I have a newspaper?" I asked rather loudly.

Translations, auf Englisch

Sei ruhig, bitte- Be quiet, please.

Heute is sehr langweilig, mein Freund- Today is very boring, my friend.

(Just for fun) Alle meine Socken sind voll mit Kaese- All of my socks are full of cheese.

11th July 2006, 03:20 AM
Shan Shayna
There was knocking at the cell door. Someone was striking the bars, allowing them to ring. Then a voice called through those same bars. "Shan, dear, are you available?"

It had been a few hours since his 'treatment,' but Shan was still fairly out of it. The dosage of drug they gave him was far more than he ever got at his previous home, to use the term loosely. It was necessary, of course, considering whom he lived in close proximity with: several insane, unstable, or rightly enraged inmates and sadistic members of the staff who made them that way. Still, it took him several moments to connect the knocking, the request, and the voice's owner.

"Come on in, Doctor. You have the key, after all..." He said, reaching down to pick up and put on his discarded shirt. He couldn't remember why he took it off in the first place. Maybe he had been hot? He got his shirt over his head just as Dr. Lathe walked in and shut the cell door behind her. She looked up and gave a small smile that stretched the scar on her left cheek. Shan gave a sideways grin back. He knew that her smile was sincere, though he couldn't sense it. It was one of the reasons he enjoyed talking to her: she meant the emotions she showed, at least for him. Of course, he only knew this from the times they spoke when he was clean, which he certainly wasn't now. He moved over so she could sit on his cot.

"So," She said in a quiet tone as she sat down, "what's on your mind?"

Shan shrugged, putting on a carefree expression. "Nothin' much at the moment, to tell you the truth. That one guy...Ryoss? That guy gave me my meds today, I think. Not that I trust my memory right now, mind you." His voice came out as a sort of slow drawl, with longer than usual pauses between sentences.

Her green eyes glanced slightly to the side before centering on Shan again. "I'm not looking to talk about your drugs today, Shan. We don't need to. I was hoping to just talk, find out what you're thinking."

"Yeah, well...I can't really think of much else to talk about, to tell the truth." He shifted his legs so he was sitting cross-legged on the cot. "If you haven't noticed, this place is pretty boring inbetween tests. The food certainly isn't that great, not that I was eatin' well before." She needed no clarification on what was meant by 'before.' 'Before' meant "after leaving home and prior to coming here," the little period of Shan's life he considered his own. "And not many of the other people stuck in here talk with me. I can't really tell, but I don't think they like me that much."

"Why?" Dr. Lathe asked simply. In Shan's opinion, she was a good psychologist. She allowed him to rant without inserting her own opinion prematurely. She just prompted at certain intervals.

"If you haven't noticed," Shan said, standing up to slowly pace the short length of his cell, "I'm a bit more compliant than the others, and the staff leaves me alone, for the most part. I'm suspecting that last one is 'cause it's not a lot of fun tryin' to harass me when I'm high, not to mention they can't get a good excuse as to why they're doing it. Still, I think the others see that and kinda misinterpret the scenario. Like I said, this is just opinion. I've never been around them sober so I can't really tell, but I worry that they think I'm too close to the staff, no offense. Like, maybe they're worried about sharing things with me 'cause they're worried about me passin' it along, like I was..."

"Another Siege," She finished, flicking a bit of white hair that had fallen from that odd streak out of her eye.

Shan nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I'm not, not that I need to tell you but...I worry about it sometimes." Shan gave a weak laugh. "Y'know, I never worried about that stuff before in my life. Even before, I didn't keep myself as drugged up as you people do. Not 'you' as in you, just 'you' in general. I could use my powers a bit, just not more than 'What's the general feeling of the guy in front of me?'"

Dr. Lathe tapped her pencil on the clipboard, which remained blank. She hadn't written a thing down so far. "Should I recommend the dose be lowered?" she asked.

"Hell no," Shan said. "As loco as my friends before were, that nothing compared to-" He shuddered involuntarily, his stomach lurching as if he had missed a step in the dark. "-the psychos in here. That's the big issue. I need all those drugs."

"What was that?" Dr. Lathe asked, focusing sharply on Shan.

"What?" Shan asked, stopping to think a moment. "Oh? The shaking? That's nothing, don't worry about it."

"You've done it before," Dr. Lathe said. "Why?"

"...It's nothin'," Shan said, no longer focusing on enunciating his words. "I do it a lot, an' it doesn't hurt me or anythin' and..." He refused to look her in the eye.

"Shan," Dr. Lathe said with concern, "I really do want to know. You might not think I can tell, but it does bother you immensely. I've gotten to know you too well for you to hide it easily." She smiled. "You don't need to be an empath to be empathetic."

Shan scuffed a foot against the cement floor, either thinking whether to speak or translating his thoughts into words. He sighed. "Um...don't tell anyone?" he asked more than said.

"I swear I won't," she said.

Shan was satisfied with that. "Well, um...I can still sense some things right now...Y’know, emotions…"

"As intoxicated as you are?" She cut in with disbelief.

"Yeah, but it's only really strong stuff," Shan quickly amended, or as quickly as he could. "Most everythin' else, like how Cross was actin' earlier? I'm numb to that. But...um...basically the shakin’ means..." Shan trailed off, staring at the wall. Dr. Lathe waited for him to find the correct words. "Basically it means somebody was killed."

Dr. Lathe was quiet for a moment. "Killed?"

"Well, murdered, really...I think. Or someone killed themselves. I'm kinda sensitive to murders and suicides." Shan shrugged. "Dunno why."

"You can tell if..." Dr. Lathe let her sentence fade.

"Yeah. I mean, it doesn't happ’n often. I can't feel every death, just the delib'rate ones." Shan looked back at the psychologist. "Like I said. Don't tell anyone?"

11th July 2006, 03:31 AM
Sign-up form
Name: Bowza "Blinky"
Subject No.: KJ 666
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Subject or Staff: Subject
Appearance: Stands about 4'3" with a small build. His hair is a smooth jet black, his eyes glow a milky white and his lips are tinted with a light shade of blue. He wears ragged leather gloves with the fingers cut off. Around his waist is a leather belt with numerous pockets for storing items. He wears long pants with lots of pockets.
Personality: Bowza is a very boisterous character, yells and screams at whoever he wants and will always put his 2 cents into a conversation. If he has something to say , he will say it . If someone has is talkin behind his back about him and they wont say anything to him he will confront them, if they don't tell him whats matter he will get pissed off. Bowza has a very short fuse and can often blow steam.
Weapon: N/A
Ability: Teleportation - can teleport himself and 3 others only a distance of 50m.
History: Bowza was formally a thief before he was caught and transferred to Ashfords. He was renowned for his thieving abilities and hired for many heists around the globe.
Relationships: Good friends with "Ghost"

BOWZA "Blinky"

................. I awoke and there i am alone sittin there on this bed, a small cell, i thought it was a jail cell so i decided id just teleporte out, " Here it goes" ........... "What the", a small braclet was around my rist it read, " Anti-teleportin braclet for subject KJ 666"

"Dammit," i thought to myself. i stared around a toilet and a cot. Thats great a 1 star. I'm the best robber in the world i deserve better than this a crappy toilet and a small bed. My tummy rumbled, I yelled outta my cell, "Oi, when we gonna get some food."

A small voice from down the hall said, " When you get tested".

"What the hell", i screamed.

Then a voice came into my head a started to explain everything.

"Ohhhhhhh", i thought to myself.

I sat on my huge cot and just laid back and thought, what would they test me form, im just a simple everyday person that has some hidden power that i can just go flick flick and i can be in and out of a bank so what. I got up walked to the wall and started to bang my head against the wall, harder and harder i hit not thinking about the pain and the gussing blood from my head, i lay down lossing blood every sec. O well at least i will be out of this hell hole. A guard walked by looked into my cell and yelled, " This one's tryin to suicide, someone help". he opened my cell and picked my up, before i blanked out i looked in the cell beside me a a small man sobbering on his bed........

11th July 2006, 04:51 AM
HEH, realised I hadn't put in Ryoss' sign-up. My bad.

Name: Ryoss Arc
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Subject or staff: Staff
Appearance: About 6'4 in height, Ryoss is relatively thin in comparison to some of the other staff but he is quick and agile, thus the reason why he was hired in the first place. He's upper body is broad and he has a lot of upper arm strength though not so much lower arm. He wears a lot of black, as part of his work can involve him doing things he his less than proud of and blood is hell to get off light colours. Ryoss has spikey blonde hair which is cut short because his bosses ordered it and stormy grey eyes. He has scars on his face and neck as well as his chest but is still considered very attractive.
Personality: Ryoss is really a nice guy and he resents the job he has to do, unfortunately for him its the only position he can get that provides him with enough money. He dislikes the way patients in the asylum are treated and hopes that someday his position within it can be used to make their lives a little better somehow. He tends to sneak things in to them whilst he's on patrol as he is given access to all the 'cells' in order to inspect the patients. Although his preference of Cross is well known, the reason is kept secret.
Weapon: He only gets a baton, he's not good with guns.
History: Raised by his mother his whole life, he took the job when she got sick because nothing else paid enough for him to cover her medical bills. He resents how people are treated and hopes to one day change it.
Relations: He is secretly involved with Cross. He is one of the very few people so actually witness her sane and it has drawn him to her ever since. Despite that the relationship is two-way, Cross' mental state often complicates things between them and he usually ends up on the bad end. because of his closeness to Cross he is also on somewhat good terms with her friend Zia (Lost).
Other: nope


I sighed as I rubbed the front of my neck thoughtfully. I would have to get everyone out if I wanted her to come with me wouldn’t I? Lost…Cameron…they wouldn’t be enough would they? But how was I meant to get them out? One I could probably manage but I’m looking at at least three. How am I supposed to handle that?

“You’re lucky I showed up when I did. She might have killed you.”

“She wouldn’t have killed me,” I replied thickly, “and you didn’t have to hurt her.”

He grabbed the collar of my shirt, pulling my face close to his. “Listen here brat-boy, we’re here to make sure they don’t get out and that’s it. I don’t know what you think you’re gonna accomplish with that fucked up little animal but it ent gonna happen.” He released his grip on my shirt. “Watch yourself boy,” he growled as he stormed off.

Looking back at Cross’ cell I sighed again. “She only thinks I want to hurt her…How will I ever prove otherwise to her?” I paced the hall, thinking deeply. She wanted that chip out right? Well I could that but…they’d know it was me and I couldn’t jeopardise my position here – not without ensuring that everyone was gonna get out safely. I knocked my head against the wall and sighed. “I’m so screwed…”

Defeated, I knew it was time for me to retreat back to my unholy tasks. I had to do rounds again now that the drug run had been ‘completed’. God it was so depressing. Visit each cell in turn and check the…how had doctors put it?…condition of the subject. I shuddered. They didn’t have a clue, didn’t know how hard it was to live with pain and torment. I looked down at my arm. I knew…

"Oi, stewardess, can I have a newspaper?”

I looked up, grinning to myself slightly. Insanity managed to breed some of the world’s more…interesting…characters it seemed and she was certainly no exception to this. I pulled my ring of keys from my belt and unlocked the door before pushing my way inside.

“Bored poltergeist?” I asked calmly. It wasn’t intended to be taunting in anyway, I hated the jerk-offs that did that.


I unbuttoned the top button of my shirt and reached into my inside pocket. “Newspaper right?” I grabbed the folder sheets of paper and tossed them to her. “Don’t let no one see it.”

She frowned, gripping the paper uneasily in her hands. “What do you want Ryoss?”

I shrugged. “Rounds are boring and we haven’t talked in a while.”

“I have nothing to say to the likes of you.”

“Well isn’t that nice. I’d forgotten about that sparkling personality of yours.”

We stared at each other silently. “What happened to your arm?”

“Someone tried to eat it this morning,” I replied honestly, cringing at the memory.


“She wishes.”


I smirked. “You still talking to Spectre?”

“Perhaps. Why do you want to know?”

“He usually has good ideas on how to escape…”

“I haven’t heard anything,” she told me sternly.

“Didn’t think so. Shame. Well I’ll be going off then, unless you’ll be wanting anything else to go with that paper of yours?”

11th July 2006, 06:22 AM
The telepathic felt like throwing up. After the experiment, those bastard scientists drugged him to prevent him from going psychic on their asses. The drug was supposed to cause pain whenever he used his mind beyond normal limits, such as using his powers.

However, the drug was to strong. His head hurt whenever he did ANYTHING involving his brain, whether it be thinking or even moving. The gray haired teen was now lying on his back in his cell, trying to stop himself from throwing up.

He hated this place. Even though he was normally calm with this place, he hated this place with a passion. It was the drugs that were preventing him from using his mind to wrip the door off its hinges and beating people to death with it.

Then there was him. The one responsible for him being here. The one who turned his life into a living hell. The very thought of him made him snarl with rage. He swore that the first thing he did when he got out of this cell, was to make him suffer as much as he made him.

But that's if his plan worked. Although he was still working on it, he had the first part worked out.

Hopefully it would work...

It had to work...

He could hear the sounds of footsteps. They were coming again.

Time for lunch...if one can call it that...

Crazy Elf Boy
11th July 2006, 07:41 AM

I woke up in a daze, sweat was dripping down my face. Was it all a dream, did they really betray me. I looked around they cell only to see the cat carrier with the door pryed open. A million questions rushed through my head, did I open the cage? If not who did? Why did they betray me?. I lifted my self off the bed, I felt a sharp rush of pain in my left shoulder. I tilted my head towards it there was a scar across it, what was the scar from.

An unfamiliar sound caught my attention, it was emnating from my scar.

Oh No I thought to myself, No they didn't. I forced the new scar open only to find a small microchipembedded into my skin. Damnit they put a tracer on me, I knew this day would come. I slouched back onto my bed, a slight flow of blood trickled onto the sheets.

From the cell across from mine I heard a strange noise, I walked to the front of my cell only to see Spectre sitting in his cell vomiting. Poor guy what did they do to him this time, drug overdose, bad food, what ever it was he was in really bad shape.

A flurry of footsteps was heard as the guards brang out the questionable piles of goo that they called food. They came to each cell and placed it through a slot, I walked over and collected mine. I brang the plate back to the bed,I sat down and put the plate down beside me and picked up a piece of meat. I took a bite of the meat and laid back.

Once again I was alone, I was always alone....................

11th July 2006, 01:06 PM

.: Lost | F :.

[color=royalblue]The unconcious veil that had overswept Lost's eyes slowly began to fade away, creating senses again that she could feel. Slowly her eyes quivered and then she opened their brilliant white-blue orbs, seeing the floor upon a side profile. She slowly felt her chest breath outwards as she felt the cold cement floor against her face and against her hands and feet. She was in a laying position upon the floor... her face against it, and she couldn't remember why she was in this position.
Slowly she rose upwards, pushing herself into a sitting position as she glanced about her cell. It was normal looking... with nothing but a small and tainted bed. She was given nothing else... nothing else that she could perhaps use in an emotional rage. Lost rose up onto her feet and slowly she walked towards her door. Placing her hands upon the door, she peered through the one small slit-like window that was within her door. She could faintly see the hallway outside... see more doors belonging to more patients.

"Where did I go?" Lost said softly, closing her eyes and trying to remember. As she did this though, she turned her head towards one of the walls upon her right. She could hear crying... and some muffled noises of dispair. Frowning slightly, she began to feel sad for whoever it was upon her right. She slowly walked towards the wall and placed her hands upon it, pressing her face against the wall.
"Little voices shant be sad... the rain can only pour when there is no shine." She said to the wall.
"Little birds like to sing, and oh shall I be a bird? A pretty little birdie with lovely wings of ebony that shall form a flock with thee and bring thy freedom! Mine eyes can see the blazing light that drizzles from the blanket of melonchaly that drapes over us all. The blazing light! The blazing light! Fly birdies fly!"

Lost then emitted a soft giggle-like smile, although she was not as prone to giggling as Cross was. She simply then smiled, but her smile was cut off as she jerked her head towards the door. Slowly it opened, and a man whom she did not recognize swiftly threw a box into the room and then shut the door violently. Tilting her head to the side, Lost walked to the box and simply plopped right down next to it. A slightly vile odor came from the box, but the box was no bigger than the base of half of a birthday card. She opened the top gently to see a slightly green paste inside mixed with flecks of orange, darker greens and whites. She withdrew a sigh... knowing what was in the paste that was supposed to be her 'lunch'.
"No swings today my dearies... no swings today..." Lost suddenly cooed, taking the box and kicking it away. However, as she kicked the box... suddenly a flash of memory came to her.

The voice of that man... lights exploding... the pipe... the screaming man...
Lost's eyes suddenly widened slightly, as the image of the burning and boiling man entered her mind. A slight realization came to her... and with that realization came another sweeping emotion of grief.

Lost suddenly opened her mouth and let out a loud scream of disbelief and despair.

Collapsing to her knees, suddenly Lost wrapped her arms around herself and began to rock back and forth. She pressed her chin against herself, tears flooding her eyes as she began to sob uncontrollably.
"Lost hates the smell of the bubbling mess.... the bubbling mess... Lost wanted none... wants none..."
As she continued to sob and rock back and forth, suddenly the air around her room began to grow damp. The dampness was quite severe... causing it to almost seem as if it were misting as beads of water began to form upon the walls.

[ Lost's emotional effect will appear in the rooms near her as well. ^_~ ]

11th July 2006, 01:25 PM

~Didn't I see this movie with McMurphy and the nurse? That hospital was heavy, but this cookoo's nest is worst.~

Samantha was at it again. She got a thrill picking on the Scholarship girls at our dance academy- the ones who couldn't get in on Momsy and Daddy's money alone. She didn't care that they were just as talented as she was, if not moreso... No, all she cared about was bringing them down because they had less money than she had.

She made me sick...

It was worse than ever today. Carrie, her favorite victim, was nearly in tears as Samantha berated her repeatedly about everything while bragging about how her father owned half of New York or something like that.

I clenched my fists at my sides. I don't stand for such things, and I couldn't just stand by like the other girls and watch her get away with such vicious torment. I'd called her on her actions on several occasions, but it never did any good.

I casually glanced at the long mirrors that extended all around the practice room and nearly gasped when I realized that my eyes had changed from their normal ice blue to a dark shade of crimsion. I didn't have time to think about that, however, because Samantha had just said something that made her little snobby friends laugh hysterically, while Carrie burst into tears and started to run. I stopped her, wrapping my arms around her to comfort the younger girl, my now-red eyes glaring maliciously at Samantha.

"Oh my God!" One of the girls screamed. "Her eyes!"

The flourescent lights above the girls suddenly popped setting off sparks that rained down on the girls. They squealed and ran to avoid being showered by the tiny pinpricks of flame, throwing horrified glances over their shoulders at me.

I rubbed my head, finally coming out of my daze. Those drugs they'd given me had packed a wollop, indeed. Not to mention, they'd made me remember, something I rarely had any notion to do since I'd found myself in this place one month ago. I pondered over the memory.. It had been the first time my powers had manifested themselves.

No... No, it hadn't. Fire didn't come first. I stared at the white band that nearly blended into the fabric of my gloves. Wind came first.

Wind is discreet. Nothing about me changes when I use Wind. My eyes stay the same color and it's fully in tune with my normal personality. Despite my mind screaming at me to avoid looking towards the past, I recalled the night I discovered my power over Wind. It wasn't like Fire, at all. No one suspected I was different when I used Wind.

It had been the night of a dance recital. I had been the understudy for one of the older girls and she had twisted her ankle, so I had to go on for her. I felt sorry for the girl, but she gave me her blessing. I was filled with such joy that I danced that night like I'd never danced before... Like I was dancing on the wind and air. Looking back now, I realize that it had all been because of my powers.

It was the one good thing they'd ever done for me.

Lunch arrived and I was a little bit sad that the nausea had subsided so I'd have a reason not to eat their inadequate definition of food. They get testy when you don't eat, and have a tendency to shove it down your throat if you refuse. I'd seen it done... Not to me thankfully.

I settled myself near the bars of my cell so I could keep an eye on Cross and Lost, who seemed to be locked in a conversation of some sorts. Those two were the perfect pair if there ever was one.

I smiled and went back to my lunch, attempting to eat the foul-smelling gunk. My mind focusing intently upon the other side of my cell, my thoughts anywhere but on the food I was eating so I wouldn't have to think about how bad it tasted.

"No more filet mignon and caviar for you, angel." I recalled that's one of the food-bringers had said my first day here. It had ticked me off severely. I hated caviar for one thing, and I was just as much a hamburger girl as the next teenager... Although my size often disproves that.

A scream rocked the area and I jumped to my feet, sending my lunch falling to the ground uselessly. I gripped the bars of my cell just in time to see Lost on her knees, rocking back and forth with her arms wrapped around herself, tears flooding her eyes.

"Lost hates the smell of the bubbling mess.... the bubbling mess... Lost wanted none... wants none..." She sobbed. I couldn't tell if it was another one of her nonsense phrases or something more pertinent, but judging by the way she was acting, I felt it had to be the latter.

"Lost..." I whispered.

I suddenly realized that my cell was becoming very damp and misty and I figured Lost to be the cause of that, as both her cell, Cross's cell, and any cell close by were suffering the same fate.

I slumped back to the ground, allowing the dampness to form beads like perspiration on my bare shoulders. I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them there. "We have to get out of here," I muttered.

I didn't know how much longer I could stay sane in this conditions...

11th July 2006, 02:12 PM

As I continued sobbing on my pillow, the room began to feel...different. My senses began feeling more heavy and I looked around to see mist filling the room. I began to panic. What was happening? I sniffed to see if it was poisonous...it wasn't. But some gases can be scentless but toxic...isn't carbon monoxide poisonous but doesn't smell? Fear and panic filled my mind. I didn't care about him, now I just wanted to escape. I felt rage build in my arms and rip free from my bonds. I yelled and my body began to change...



Finally! I'm free from the boy and his wretched suppression! I began to survey my surroundings for myself. This cell is pretty advanced and heavy - this is no ordinary sheriff's overnight cell I've landed myself in. I leapt over to the door and tried to punch it, with some pain and only making a small dent. Heavy armoured too...gonna need some more force. I leapt backwards against the wall behind me and walljumped towards the door, kicking the crack between the door and the wall. The door dented and the wall cracked. Ten more wall-kicks or so should have me free. A voice began speaking again.
I wouldn't do that if I were you...
"Shut up fool! Get out of my head before I find your cell and shut you up personally!"
The door was beginning to break. Then I'll make my escape.

11th July 2006, 02:30 PM

.: Lost | F :.


Lost continued to sob silently as she felt her body quiver all over, before she slowly rose her head and looked back to the wall upon her right. She could hear a bunch of shuffling around... until suddenly she sniffled and wiped her sleeve against her eyes and rose back to her feet. The dampness around the room seised to continue, although the dampness remained and would remain until time had passed for it to evaporate naturally.

Going back to the wall she pressed her face against the cool and wet surface, hearing the man that she had heard before. Some thing was happening... and suddenly she withdrew a sharp breath as she sensed that some thing had changed. That man was still in there... but she didn't sense him. For some reason she felt some thing different in there...
She heard a loud thumping noise next door, and her room shook slightly from it. She suddenly let a soft smile spread across her teary face as she took her fist and suddenly mirrored the thump by smashing it against the wall. Her hand bounced violently off the wall as she did it, but she repeatedly bashed her fist against the wall to mirror the thumping she heard in the room. Silence followed after her last thump... and she took a step back.
"Little birdie hears the angry wolf howling... " She said slightly, staring at the wall. She closed her eyes once again and spoke, " Little birdie wants to help set the wolf free."
She then reopened her eyes and without so much as a thought, she bashed her own body into the right wall. Her fragile frame easily ricocheted back from the wall, causing her to fall to the floor. Dizzied slightly, Lost stood back up and seemed to be unphased (mentally) from her seemingly insane attempt to bash her own body against the wall.
"Birdies need to fly... wolf needs to run... free free free... " She said in a rather eerie sing-songy chant, a chant that was a common haunting trait of Lost's little one-line songs. She bashed herself into the wall again, this time falling to the floor a bit more violently so that it took her a little bit longer for her to rise to her feet again. A small bruise was upon her cheek, but she merely smiled as she sensed the presense in the right room.
"... Loki..." She said suddenly, not really knowing herself why she had said it.

[ Kick it in moootion... woot. ^_^ ]

11th July 2006, 02:54 PM

Why, oh why do I have to be here now?John thought as he sat in his corner, thinking of all of the things he had done to people over the years. Right now, he could be out of his cell, just a normal man, trying to control his powers, in his supposed Home, San Diego. But theytook him. He wanted to tear the founder of this place into pieces. Why had they built this place. Couldn't they just leave him alone?

The insane people here didn't help either. Sitting next to his cell door, he listened to these people ramble about random things.Some of the people like were fine but others, would just talk about nothing. Espically two inmates, but Torch was not very sure of anyones names. Lost and Cross were their names, were they not? He shook off the thought and sat their cradling himself.

Until ofcourse, the air became damp with water. Water started to bead on the walls, and on his arms, face and neck, causing him to cringe in pain as the water burned his skin. Muttering to himself, he took a look in the mirror above his sink. It was covered with plasitc, of course, so the inmates couldnt kill themselves with the shards of glass.

His face was pretty beat up, with dried blood below his lower lip and running down his chin, and continuing down his neck until it reached the neck of his shirt. He assumed that it went farther down, but he didn't feel like looking. His face also had cuts and dried blood everywhere; John could of almost swore that he could still taste the blood in his mouth.

When all of the sudden, he heard a thump from across the room, coming from another cell. THUMP. He looked, trying to see what was happening, but he could see nothing. All he could hear was the thump against the wall, and the...clang of metal.

Someone was trying to break out.

11th July 2006, 02:58 PM
Perfect timing, Heald...
Name: Siege
Subject Number: Y46S9
Age: 31
Subject or staff: Staff
Appearance: 6'2'' with blue eyes like hard diamonds and cropped with a shock of blond hair, Siege is an imposing figure to say the least. He is infamous throughout the facility for his cruelty and the experimental weapon grafted to his right arm. He is regarded with a mix of fear, hatred and apprehension by nearly everyone in the Asylum.His face is unblemished, his build massive- in order to support the weapon he holds. Siege prefers to wear sleeveless black shirt and camoflauge pants. A curious belt holding small steel canisters hangs from his waist.
Personality: Siege isn't evil, but he does have a mean streak. He's friends with no one, but most of the guards follow his orders out of fear, or because they enjoy being mean as he does. In situations where most guards would use tranquilizers, Siege prefers to use the blunt end of his weapon, Gospel. For no reason at all, he may order that the inmates' food or drugs be withheld for another hour, just for the hell of it.He is crude and brutal, and delights in ironic humor above all else.
Weapon: Gospel- a massive gold crucifix, with the muzzle bulging from the top of the cross. It is not actually constructed from gold, it only appears to be. In actuality, it is composed of several different experimental alloys, making it resistant to rust and crafted to prevent jamming. Cleverly hidden latches on either arm of the cross reveal hollows, where ammunition can be placed.The weapon's function is a marvel in itself. It's common knowledge that Gospel never runs out of ammo. The truth is, the cannon's bullets are linked to Siege's blood. When fired, Gospel's slug appears bright crimson, like jellied candy. Upon impact, the slug explodes, mixing blood with several chemicals stored in the slug's casing. Not only is the slug powerful enough to rip through bones and tendons, the explosion from the shot is enough to punch a hole through steel. However, overuse of the weapon leads first to faintness, loss of vision, and eventually death. Recently, Siege has discovered that by injecting himself with the blood of the inmates at Ashford Asylum, the quality of his slug changes dramatically. For example, a "Torch shot" creates a napalm effect, while a "Poltergeist shot" causes his slug to fade away in mid-air. In addition to a firearm, Gospel can also be used as a club.
Power: Heightened strength and advanced healing.
History: The son of Nathaniel Ashford, and the first subject of the scientist's tests. His childhood was horrific, and he grew up hating his father, until he discovered the Bible. The promise of divine vengeance upon the wicked intrigued him, and ironically inspired the design of his weapon. Obviously, Siege was a selective reader, because quotes of 'mercy' and 'kindness' affect him not. He would never think of himself as one of the wicked, but neither does he believe he is an angel. He is a product of his environment.
Relations: Dislikes Nosferatu. Ignores Arsenal, preferring neither to order him around or bully him. However, he is keeping a close eye on him.


Something was happening. The repeated CRASH from down the hall confirmed it. Siege stood up from the wooden chair he had been lazing in, and the mumbling guards around him stilled, looking at him expectantly. Siege eyed two of the larger guards. Trusties. Good men who didn't cry off from what had to be done. He nodded to them, and the nodded back. As one, the guards rose and followed him out of the door.

The lunatics were howling, screaming, crying, all around him, wailing in their cells. As he passed by them in their cells, a few shrunk back, remembering past beatings. A few of the more defiant ones leered and lunged at him, their filthy hands flailing at him from the bars. Grinning, he dealt their fingers a hard SLAP with Gospel, and they withdrew.

At last they came to the source of the sound. In this cell, a bizarre, scrawny looking kid with black hair was kicking steadily at the cell, causing it to shake with each movement. One of the guards murmured behind him in worry. Siege stared at the boy for a moment, who hadn't looked up at their arrival. It was like they didn't exist.

"Who's this?" he asked the guards behind, his voice as melodious as granite.

"I don't recognize him," one of the guards replied, a man named Dawson. "I could swear there was a blond short kid in this cell before..."

"Never mind," Seige said, a slow grin appearing on his face. New fish. Time to break im' in. "Open the door, before he breaks it."

Dawson obeyed, pulling a key-ring from his belt. After a moment of consideration, he slid the key into the lock and opened the door.With astounding agility and a cry of rage, the black-haired boy sprang from his position at the wall to the door. If another second passed, the boy would have been out of his cage and down the hall, hooting like mad. Not that there was anywhere to go.

One more second...if Siege had not been there.

Gospel flew out, clouting the boy's skull with the steady sure SLAM of steel. The blow dazed the boy, his eyes crossing, and he staggered. Siege slammed a fist into the boy's gut, pushing the air out of his lungs with a WHOOSH, then dealt a hard backhand blow with Gospel to the boy's nose. Stunned, the lunatic flew back into his cell, his nose bleeding. Strangely, his nose wasn't broken.

"Powers," Siege muttered in distaste. He turned to the guards. "Tranq him up. This one's a problem."

As the men hurried to follow his orders, Siege turned to head back to the lounge. Such troublesome people they were getting...they would have to keep an eye on this one. Perhaps he ought to check the file on this one.

In the next cell over, a little girl was bashing herself against the cell bars, similiar to the boy next to her. However, unlike the boy, she was doing nothing but hurting herself against the steel. All the while, she was singing an eerie song about wolves or birds or sommat. Rather annoying.

"Stop it, girl," Siege ordered, but the lunatic didn't seem to see him. Instead she just slammed her body into the bars a bit harder, before falling back to the ground.On top of that, her cell was strangely...misty. Was there a breeze or something? Regardless, the scientists wouldn't be happy if they saw bruises all over an inmate- at least, bruises Siege hadn't put there first..

As the lunatic rushed for the bars again, Siege swiftly placed the muzzle of Gospel, allowing it to protrude through the iron bars. CLANG! Like a bird flying into a window, the little girl charged directly into the gun, her forehead rebounding against the muzzle with a flat slap. She fell to the ground, murmuring incoherently. A bright red mark had appeared on the girl's forehead. Siege smiled and walked on. Two problems, taken care of.

EDIT: Forgot Lost. Heh.

11th July 2006, 03:27 PM
I'm sorry for posting so much... I promise I'll stop a bit. I just couldn't resist with Ace's post... 'cuz Heald and I were talking. mwha... lol. Hope you don't mind Ace. ^^; Just thought this would make Seige think more... mwhaha.


.: Lost | F :.


Lost continued to slam her body into the wall as she heard the one inside thrashing against the door. However, upon the fifth time she laid upon the floor a bit longer... closing her eyes and listening to the noise of the figure within the right cell thrashing against the door. However, Lost heard another noise... the sound of loud footsteps. It didn't take Lost much time to figure out who the footsteps belonged too... for she could easily tell they belonged to that of Seige.

Seige had never really dealt much with Lost- in fact, he never had. The reason being was her powers weren't some thing that directly related to him 'watching' over her. Her emotional rages occured usually during testing... in which Seige wasn't invited to. Perhaps it was because that wasn't the reason they kept him around, or perhaps they feared that his weapon would be harmed despite its crafted perfection. When he had walked by her cell upon other times, his glance would only be met by her white-blue gaze that was filled with on recognition, no hate... nothing but the glance of a small little girl locked up in a cage. Yet, she knew the sound of his footsteps... she knew who he was. She heard the others talk about him... and due to their talks, she often called him "Silence". He often brought it whether anyone wanted it or not.
"... Loki... Silence..." Lost said softly, shakily getting to her feet as she pressed her face to the outside wall so she could see outside. She felt fear rise up within her... for she knew that the one making the loud thumping noises next to her was going to be met by Seige. She had seen it happen several times and some times the outcome was not pretty but deadly. Lost gave a soft whimper as she furrowed her brow, gazing strongly at Seige and silently wishing she could will him to go away. Will him to turn away... but she watched him order the opening of the door of the one to the right of her own cell. She was hoping some thing out of the ordinary would happen- that perhaps the prisoner would break out, bash Seige away and escape.

Yet no such thing happened...

Instead, Lost gave out a cry of dismay as she watched Seige bash the black-haired figure several times and eventually force him back into his cell. Calmly... so calmly Seige seemed to brush off the encounter and he began to head back. Anger gripped Lost as she watched Seige walk away, his golden weapon shinning in the eerie lights down the hallway. Narrowing her eyes and feeling anger whell up within her, she clenched her fists and simply stared at Seige's weapon. It was always the weapon that did everything... and without it, Seige was nothing. Lost wasn't sure why she was so angry this time... she had seen him do the same thing to so many others and it never had triggered any reaction. However this time... this time was different. Of course, normally she was drugged on depressants... but she had not taken her pills yet due to her day of being 'unconcious'. Growling slightly, Lost felt her temperature rise slightly as she stared at his glittering weapon.
"Goldy goldy goldy..." She said with a gutteral growl.

And slightly... oh ever so slightly, one of the latches upon Seige's weapon seemed to slowly bend. Only a small bend- a bend that would happen to a key if you were to pull it a direction when it was still inside a lock. It of course was only a small bend and it was of course, only a little latch. A small, insignificant moan was given off by the bending of the latch by the unforgiving metal... but as soon as it was done, Lost turned away and went back to the right wall. Her anger was still bubbling within her but she had now focused upon the staggered breathing and anger of the one to her right.
"The lone wolf can be knocked down... but birdies know they come quickly back... come quickly back..."

11th July 2006, 03:43 PM

(Alrighty, since it looks like Bulbasaur didn't see the edit before she posted I guess I'll work of her post since it's the latest)

Go ahead, let him do whatever the hell he wants.

"Shut up, I can't be that overt."

Arsenal whispered to himself from his position on the wall down the hall from Seige. He had heard the young girl trying to break free from her prison and had set off to subdue her, didn't want them breaking free from the drugs enough to use their powers afterall. He had arrived just as Seige had made his move and had leaned against the wall as the guard had performed his duty, brutally knocking down the youth that had been kicking his door. Wincing at the sharp ring the metal floor gave off as the youth crashed to the ground, Arsenal muttered softly to calm a distressed Ares. The cat had seen his master subdue subjects dozens of time, but never in such a brutally efficient manner. Suddenly something caught Arsenal's eye, one of them at least. The guard calmly moved to look in on the small boy that lay senseless on the floor, a bruise already forming on her forehead. Arsenal began to flex his hands again as he spoke, "They go through enough already, did you really need to use that much force?"

Seige stopped and turned his head a bit, "Does it matter."

Arsenal didn't reply. Seige shrugged his massive shoulders and moved on, leaving the man behind to continue staring into the cell.

Just going to let him walk away?

Arsenal sighed, "He's a living example of all there is to hate about this place...he'll be one of the last to go, after I break down the lower levels. Then maybe this facility can accomplish something."

Well at least you're using your head now

Turning from the boy's cell, Arsenal took a few quick steps until he stood in front of ZIA04's cell. His computer systems had picked up the force that had affected Seige's weapon, despite the fact that the force's effect was so small that Siege probably hadn't even noticed. Due to the systems of his MWS however, Arsenal had more capabilities to sense such small disruptions. Mentally shutting off his computer's notificaton as to a possible weakness in Seige's weapon, Arsenal gazed down at the softly murmering girl. Removing the hood of his cloak, he revealed his face to the girl before speaking, calm eyes gazing from the neatly bearded face, "Calm down there little one, you're not going to get out of here by smashing yourself against the walls and making dents in people's weapons. If you keep doing so I'm going to have to put you to sleep like your friend over there, something I'd rather not have to do. I don't believe I've ever met you, you are?"

Crystal Tears
11th July 2006, 03:59 PM
[font=Arial Narrow]+Cross+


It was a breakthrough! As Cross bit her lip ever so slightly her mind was beginning to settle upon something. Random thoughts here and there through her completely off, but none the less, she could focus.

Cross stared at her food; they always used to feed her, shoving it down her throat. Maybe she had gotten better, if they were letting her feed herself. But the food, it wasn’t even food. Cross’s eye twitched in annoyance; how could they feed us this disgusting excuse for food? It looked more like rejected toothpaste.
Angered by the sight of her food, Cross slid her tray across the floor, refusing to eat it.

Cross looked up, gazing across the hallway at the angel… Struggling to stay in this state of mind, she whimpered. Cautiously, she moved up towards the bars again. She didn’t dare do anything considered bad, as the giant man with the gun was here, wandering the halls. Cross kept the blanket near her.

“Sister…” Cross said, but failed to gain her attention. “… Cameron!”

That seemed to do it, curiously, and rather shocked, her sister looked up from her state. Cross smiled; her mind free from anything that would be considered insane. She waved slightly to her sister.

“Don’t be sad.” She smiled. “If you’re sad, then they’ve broken you!” Cross grinned. “Freedom is closer then you think it is.” She must’ve thought Cross was babbling on, but she wasn’t. “You’re just in a cocoon; soon enough, you’ll have your wings and will fly again.”

Putting her hands together; Cross formed a butterfly and showed her friend from across the hall.

11th July 2006, 04:09 PM
Yeah, should've waited a bit longer before posting. Ah well, it all works out. What a delightful enforcer Seige is! Everyone loves him : P

Jack "Walker"

Their tests were based on what he did best- walk.

He was hooked to a machine and placed on a treadmill, then told to walk. The machine monitored many different things- heartrate, pulse, blood count, white cell count, blood pressure- mundane things, and there were other measurements he didn't recognize. The treadmill had no dials whatsoever. Jack looked around. He was in a white room, perfectly innocent save for the mirror at the far end of the room. He couldn't see through it, but he knew he was being watched.

The machine started of its own accord, and he walked. And walked. And walked. He knew what they were waiting for- they wanted to see if his power would activate, if he could walk... beyond this world, beyond others. But it didn't work like that. Treadmills rolled, he walked, but he was going nowhere. They made him walk for a half-hour before taking him back to his cell.

He was a little afraid of where he would go- if he did walk. This place was bad enough...but in other worlds, it could be even worse. Better to walk after he had found a way to escape.

He was hustled back down the halls, without a blindfold this time. They had grown confident that he either couldn't or wouldn't escape- the blindfold no longer mattered. Finally, he got a look at his surroundings. Lines of cells filled the corridor, each soul a little different from the last, but all- definitely- insane. He wasn't mad, just different. Right?

A powerfully-built man with a large cross on his arm passed him by without a glance. A smaller guard watched him pass with a look of controlled disgust. Jack noted it, remembering the man's face- it might help him later. Then he was back in his cell, facing an appetizing meal of brown and green slop. Jack looked at it, shrugged, and began to eat with the spoon provided. He had tasted far worse in his travels, and he would need his strength.

11th July 2006, 04:57 PM
^^; We can easily put them together! Wee!


.: Lost | F :.


Lost had stood next to the wall, hearing no more signs from the cell to her right. She silently wondered who it was next to her... and why he had suddenly changed. She deemed him as the wolf, unknowingly. Turning her head... she let her body slide down the wall until she was slumped upon the wall. She heard another man come... a hooded man with a cat perched upon him. He swiftly let his hood fall backwards so that his face was shown to her. Normally Lost would pretend to not hear him... like she did to any guard that approached. However, her eyes turned to look at him from beneath her tendrils of blonde hair. Some thing about him made her think of him differently. His face was not crafted from the sickly smiles that the others had... but it seemed to emit a different vibe. It was some thing that Lost had not encountered for what seemed like forever. Then the man spoke to her... told her that she shouldn't bash herself into the walls because he didn't want to put her to sleep. He also mentioned about how she had damaged (if you could call a bent latch that) weapons. Slowly, like a shaky child who had just learned to crawl... Lost let her pale hands stretch out in front of her. She then slowly crawled over to the bars, looking upwards at him from her crawled position.
" The wolf will eat the silence some day..." She said with a whisper, looking over to her right at seemingly nothing. " This birdie will fly with him some day."
The man seemed confused slightly, but Lost suddenly snapped her head back to look at him rather violently.
"The ones who hurt me... the ones who have kept me here call me Zia." She said quietly, but then she seemed to narrow her eyes and gaze at him deeper. "But you're not like them, are you?" She then gave a nod as if she had already determined it. "Panther slinks in the shadows... waiting to find what it tries to find.." She smiled at this, giving a soft giggle. "Birdie will fly with you too."

[ Eventually everyone will find their own nickname.. XD although they might not realize it, she basically gives everyone a different nickname than their own. ]

11th July 2006, 05:23 PM
Woohoo... My own nickname. Don't know anything that would go with John though...


Lunch time, John thought, as the guards rounded, throwing boxes inside of rooms. He despised this food, and he had only been here less then a week. His arms, neck and head still burned from the water droplets that were in the air, and he had to frequently wipe off his face. It got him to thinking, who the hell could be doing this?

He got up and moved over to his cot, and threw the spoon and box on it. He took one last look at himself, finally recognizing that the people had given him a new pair of clothes. Well, wasn't that nice of them?, he thought,and sat down on the cot. The cot was hard, and was definately not comfortable to sit on, but it was a step up from the floor.

Opening up the box, a foul odor came out, greeting him. How did the inmates think they could eat this crap? He took his spoon and dug into the box,and found that it was quite hard. He felt like throwing up, but he knew that if he didn't eat it, they would come and force feed it too him.

So he ate it. The entire thing. He couldn't believe how horrible it tasted, and he felt that almost certainly he throw up. But he did it, and know all he had to do was wait for dinner to come so the same thing could happen again.

But for now, he walked back over to the front of the cell, and stared outside. Everything was normal again. He could hear the murmurings of Lost and Cross and various other inmates, and the thumping had stopped. He stared outside his cell and thought how the hell he was going to get our of this place.

11th July 2006, 05:28 PM

When I woke up, I was on the floor. My head was spinning and I tried to make sense of what was happening, or what had happened. I looked up and saw the door to the cell looked different...it had some dents in it.
"Loki, you didn't try and break free, did you?"
Shut up, Whelp.
"What happened?"
I broke out, well, I got one foot away from the cell and a huge guard hit me with a giant metal bar. Next time I'll nail the bastard!
"No! I'm not going to let you!"
The voice went silent. I saw that my keepers had left a meal out for me, which I began to pick at. The pains of hunger took control and I finished it off, before letting out a large belch. A voice spoke out.
"The wolf has woken, I see."
I looked around. This voice was coming from the cell next to me.
"Are you talking to me?" I asked out loud.
"Oh. You sound different now. Almost calmer...more scared."
Looks like Loki had raised my other captives' awareness to my existence. I walked over to the bars.
"I'm no wolf, I'm just some poor kid, but who are you?"
There was a silence briefly.
"They call me Zia, but I am the birdie."

11th July 2006, 06:00 PM
I'm going to let McNinja post before I do, but until then I drew a picture of Zia!
It is just a rough sketch... but I hope that you guys like it. ^_^

ZIA04 (http://www.deviantart.com/view/36159391/)

11th July 2006, 06:06 PM

The commotion from the other cells had forced me to cut short my conversation with poltergeist. From what I could gather from the murmurings of the other guards, one of the newbies had tried to break out, which in turn had started Lost on one of her frantic fits. Apparently she'd tried to charged herself through the bars of her cell. That either took a lot of guts or a lot of stupidity. I frowned slightly, watching Siege storm past. I was surprised Cross and Cameron hadn't been in on the chaos too, it wasn't like them not to get involved when one of their sisters started acting up.

"Show's over boys, keep moving 'kay?" I said to the others, waving them away. One of the guards seemed to linger by Lost's cell. As I walked down I noticed he was talking to her, but that wasn't the only conversation taking place. Cross, having gained a brief moment of sanity, was talking to her 'sister' Cameron. Leaning back against the wall, just out of sight, I listened in. It was so rare to catch Cross in a spell of sanity that I wanted to enjoy the most of it.

“Don’t be sad. If you’re sad, then they’ve broken you! Freedom is closer then you think it is. You’re just in a cocoon; soon enough, you’ll have your wings and will fly again.”

I smiled. I hoped to God there was truth in those words.

"That's not nice. Doggie shouldn't spy on the dove when she is talking."

I looked over at Lost. "You know i've never liked that 'doggie' stuff."

She giggled. "Birds don't like doggies...they're messy and smell bad..."


"The doggie is always loyal...never to bite the hand that feeds him..."

I stood up and walked over to the bars of her cell. "My only loyalty is to your sister and my family, you know that." I looked down the corridor. "Time for me to get some lunch. I might see what I can do about leftovers. Try not to hurt yourself Lost...birdies with broken wings have a hard time flying the nest..." And I left, nodding to the other guard as I passed him on the way to the cafeteria.

11th July 2006, 06:47 PM

~Though I don't know what tomorrow's bringing, I've got a singular impression things are moving too fast.~

I swore a blue streak. What was going on here? I was too stunned to do much of anything in the wake of the Lost-Seige- Crazy Boy fiasco, and I instantly regretted it. I was often a major part of those scuffles, at least verbally.

I stared at my bands sadly. But never physically.

I sighed and rubbed my forehead with the bottom of my hand. Too much chaos for one day. Way too much. Everything happened so fast in this place when things happened at all. Most days were boring, but every now and then...

Well, this happens...

And I remain blissfully sane, thank God, although I wonder if life would be easier if I just embraced the inevitable insanity and became just like Cross and Lost.

"Sister!" I vaguely heard a voice call, but I was too distracted by the fact that I was drowning in my own thoughts to reply. "Cameron!"

I opened my eyes to see Cross looking at me. “Don’t be sad.” She smiled. “If you’re sad, then they’ve broken you! Freedom is closer then you think it is. You’re just in a cocoon; soon enough, you’ll have your wings and will fly again.” Putting her hands together; she formed a butterfly and showed me from across the hall.

I laughed, high-pitched and bubby- a laugh that very rarely escaped me these days, but had been quite famous before I came here. "A butterfly or an angel?"

Cross shrugged. "Both have wings and both can fly. You'll fly someday."

"We'll all fly," I corrected gently. I glanced over to Lost who was brooding in her cell in the aftermath of what had happened. "Birds, butterflies, and angels..." I murmered.

"You miss the wind, don't you?" Cross nodded sagely. I looked at the white band around my wrist again, a contemplative smile on my face.

"I do, indeed. The wind is my soul." I blinked, realizing how much that sounded like a silly phrase that Cross, herself, might mutter and laughed again. Cross also laughed.

"Your laugh is like sunshine," she giggled. "It makes this place brighter. Too dark." She shook her head. "Much too dark."

I silently agreed.

Crystal Tears
11th July 2006, 07:10 PM
[font=Arial Narrow]+Cross+

Cross looked up at Cameron again; she peered as far down the hallways she could, making sure no guard was paying any real attention. Quickly, she scurried over to her pillow; bit her lip hard as she tried to stay on subject. Once her hand clenched the small object, she went back to the bars.

“Here sister!” Cross smiled, tossing across the hallway a small golden wrapper. “There’s four pieces, give two to Lost. It always makes her happy.” She instructed as the golden wrapper landed at the back of Cameron’s cell.

She then un-wrapped her own shred of golden tinfoil, revealing 2 more pieces; which was actually chocolate. Making sure no guard was watching, she hastily gobbled it down, savouring the last piece’s taste.

Cross smiled, leaning against the bar. Her eyes wandered all over her cell as she allowed a brief moment of insanity in her mind. It was a relief actually, thinking normally was such a task, letting yourself be a bit un-stable was much more fun, and easy. You didn’t have to focus; you just said what came to your mind. As the moment passed, Cross looked at her sister again.

“Like it?”

11th July 2006, 07:35 PM

.: Lost | F :.

After the interaction with the one Lost had called, "Panther", she had a brief moment with Ryoss. He never had liked Lost's little reasoning for calling him Doggie... but it was the way she was. She often applied nick names to people and they had no idea why she had labeled them so. Was it because they reminded her of some one else? Was it because she thought the animal personafied them? Or was it a memory that for some reason connected all of the above? No one seemed to figure it out... but that was the way Lost was.
" Little birdies cannot get their wings clipped if they are already broken..." Lost whispered to herself, as she watched him go. However, there then was another voice. Rising upwards in her cell, she saw that the Wolf had awoken. She smiled gently at him, although he perhaps could not see. He eventually asked who she was... to which she responded that she was the birdie, but she was known as Zia.
"But everyone else... all of us little ones in cages... they call me Lost." She said in addition, giving a slight bow. "What does Wolf call himself?"
"My name is Alex."
"Wolf calls himself Alex, and his other is Loki."
"I'm not that!" Alex suddenly said loudly, but silence soon followed. "What... what happened? I don't remember."
Lost placed her hands together and intertwined her fingers as she seemed to calm herself down. She rose to her feet and soon walked over to the poorly made square-contraption that was called "a bed". Sitting down upon it, she remained silent once more before speaking.
" The one known as Loki was filled with rage. He lashed out against the door several times before the one known as Siege came silenced him. He beat Loki back into his cell and then commanded that Loki be placed into a sleepy state with tranquilization."
There was no response this time... only silence, and Lost some how knew that Alex was fighting his own demons. Lost closed her eyes briefly, then suddenly her demeanor seemed to change as she rose from her bed and swiftly scurried barefoot across her cell room's floor. She had heard Seraphim, and happily she saw Seraphim.
"Here Lost... a gift from Cross." Seraphim glanced down the hallways again before chucking a shiny gold object across and into her cell. Lost didn't look at what entered her cell, but she gave a nod.
" Tell thy dear sister of mine thanks... " Lost said, giving a light nod and then allowing a soft smile to spread across her lips. Slowly she then went over to the golden piece upon the floor and kneeling down, she picked it up. Clasping it in her palm, she went and sat upon her bed. Opening the beautiful foil she saw two pieces of chocolate. Looking across the room she saw the kicked box in her room, and she happily cooed to herself.

Taking one piece, she happily plopped into her mouth. Carefully however she wrapped the other piece tightly and then hid it within the nook of her bed. Slowly she then crawled all the way into her bed and rested her back against the wall, sitting upon her bed with a contented smile. She let the flavor wash over her dry tongue as she felt an inner piece by the chocolate. The flavor was so wonderful... and it reminded her of happier days. They were brief and short days... but she remembered the brief moments of happiness.
"Happy... one cannot lose their memory of happy..." Lost whispered to herself as she kept the chocolate beneath her tongue, slowly seeping out the flavor. She hummed softly to herself, and slowly an aroma of sweet perfume lingered in the air. It was almost the perfect essense of perfume... not being too sweet and yet being just right in the amount. A memory and scent of flowers and spring seemed to dance upon the air... a perfume of happier times.

Darkmaster Kagemusha
11th July 2006, 07:49 PM
Dr. Emma Lathe

I sighed heavily. A death would not bode well for anyone, but least of all the people forced to stay locked up here, though I devoutly hoped it was a staff-member. "I swear, I'll not tell a soul, dear, but I do have to go do some investigating, so I'll talk to you again some other time," I said before standing up from the cot and leaving the cell, closing the door softly behind me. No sooner had a started to walk than I heard a loud thumping noise, like flesh against metal, which was something heard quite often in this place, but it seemed to have more power in it than normal. Stepping up my pace, I saw a group of guardsmen, including that dreaded Seige, swiftly silence the boy making the trouble. I sighed again. It was a pity he hadn't been the one murdered today, for his obscene preference to violence made him more likely to kill me than talk to me, and he certainly wouldn't be a help in my plan to take over the place. Again, I'd gotten lost in my thoughts, and the guardsmen had dispersed. I could hear Cross, Lost, and Cameron occasionally exchanging words, and I nearly ignored it, but I heard something unusual

“There’s four pieces, give two to Lost. It always makes her happy," I heard Cross say. She said something that made sense--complete sense, as she threw an item over to Cameron--and then followed up with a question; "Like it?" I rushed up to her cell, and found her leaning against the bars, looking at her, and she seemed quite strained, and I could see bite marks on her lip. I couldn't help but smile a bit. At least she could try, that was a wonderful start. I wanted to stay and talk to her now, but I had the more pressing business of death to look into, and so I headed back to my office.


Groaning in frustration, I slapped the side of my monitor. I had only found a small portion of what I had been looking for--the roster for staff evaluations was one person short of when she had checked it that morning, but she could find no record of what had happened or to whom. "I suppose I should be happy it wasn't one of them..." said under my breath as I sighed yet again. Much more of that and I was going to sigh my lungs out. I shrugged to myself and quickly filled out Shan's evaluation sheet to show that he was normal for himself, though the current dosage of drugs appeared a bit too much. I knew he wouldn't be pleased with the last part, but if they kept increasing his dosage like that, they'd make him overdose. I stood up and placed his evaluation sheet in my "Outgoing" pile of papers before grabbing sheets for Cross, Lost, and Cameron. They would not normally have been next on my list, but with the show of will I'd seen from Cross, I wanted to see what her and those near her were thinking. As I started out the door of my office, I glanced again at the lab coat on my coat rack and paused. It would burn nicely later on, I decided, and closed the door before walking off, feeling unusually better.

11th July 2006, 08:03 PM
Um, Ace, Siege does have powers. Super strength and healing (he's pretty much like Nosferatu).

Spectre had pretty much ignored all the commotion going on outside. He knew whoever was trying to get out would fail miserably. Everyone had simply tried breaking down the door, but there'd be always guards on the other side...and Siege.

He couldn't worry about that now, he needed to get on with the plan.



hast du schon gegessen?

"Nr., warum?"

Deine Nahrung nicht essen. Sie mit dir holen, wenn sie uns heraus für excersise holen.

He could tell she was a bit confused.

"Wird sie mich lassen?"

Ja. Sie sehen keinen Schaden in ihm.

"Aber warum?"

Ich erkläre dann.

Translation time!
-Have you eaten yet?
-No, why?
-Don't eat the food. Take it with you when they bring us out for excercise.
-Will they let me?
-Yes. They see no harm in it.
-But why?
-I'll explain then.

11th July 2006, 08:26 PM

God I hate this place,John thought, sitting on his cot, waiting for something eventful to happen. But for the days he had been here, nothing really excited had happened. He would sit on his cot, watching and listening in on conversations, or he would sit in the corner of his room, bashing his fists against the wall. He had not spoken to anyone since he was here, barely using his voice except to scream or talk to himself. It seemed as if everyone had their own little room, and he was just an outcast. His skin was still burning from the damp air, it seemed as if the water would never go away. Would he ever stop being tormented?

Looking outside of his cell, he could of thought he saw Cross throw something across the room. It was golden... But he couldn't quite tell what. He shook away the thought, and decided that he wanted to shed a bit more bled. He waited for the person to walk by, obviously not a staff, but maybe a doctor? He could probably use someone like that to talk too. He somewhat limped over to the blood-stained wall, and nearly collapsed down to the ground. He took one last look at his beaten down knuckles, and then started to pound on the wall. He didn't care how bad it hurt him physically, because it sure as hell didn't hurt him mentally. All of the rage that he had stored up inside of him started to come out, and his pounding upon the wall became harder and harder. He thought of all the things that had happened here, everything that he had done in his place, everything he had done before-

And all of the sudden, he felt his rage consumed him. Trying to stop himself, he stumbled over to the mirror, and looked at himself. His eyes were blood red, and then... a small flame ignited in his palm.

God damnit, he had gone too far. If anyone walked by, he would be screwed. He quickly ran over to the sink, and painfully stuck his hand under the water. The flame was quickly put out, but John let out a scream of pain. He turned around and clutched his fist, and punched the nearest wall again, letting out a curse of "GOD DAMNIT!"

He fell back onto the ground and was still clutching his fist. It still burned, and he stumbled upwards to his cot. His mind still burning with rage, and slowly started to cry. The tears stung his face, but he didn't care. All he cared about now was that the guards didn't come. He slowly started to reassure himself, as he knew that they wouldn't come, seeing as they had to go outside soon to exercise. Thank the lord.

Crystal Tears
11th July 2006, 09:12 PM
*is bored*

[font=Arial Narrow]+Cross+

It wasn’t un-usual for someone to cry out in pain, not at all. But some things were more understandable then others, Cross was prone to hurting herself. She would sing while she did it as well. It was her release from her mind, either side, insane or sane. She’d be free, it seemed apart of her liked pain, liked the feel of the red liquid that poured from her arms uncontrollably.
Many asked her why she did it, she would answer sometimes, but to them, her answers never made sense. She liked here answers; people were just too lazy to think anymore. It was ironic; someone like Cross saying how people think too much, well maybe she thought to little.

“They have their wings but no body…” Cross thought, tapping her foot onto the cement floor.


That’s all she needed, the rest her mind did. Closing herself off from the world around her, she stared blankly at the wall. She could hear everything, guitars, drums, and any other instrument needed to make music. It’s what parents would define as loud, obnoxious music with no meaning, but if you listened there was sanity in it.

“Push me away… Make me fall…” Her voice carried through the halls, it was quite lovely, she remember when she used to sing, and her parents loved it when she sung. They had said she could’ve been a famous vocalist, but her heart had chosen with the music only ‘rejected’ kids listen to… “Just to see another side of me…”

”Come now Sakura! Sing your song!”

“Push me away, you can’t see…”

”That was lovely Sakura!”

“What I see…” The tune left her now, as footsteps were extremely close to her now. She was nearly out of her trance. “The other side of me…”

Daddy was laying there, his body torn apart by what looked like claw marks. His body mutilated, and thrown into a horrible position that wasn’t usually possible.

“Daddy?” Sakura whimpered, tears beginning to stream down her face. She looked at her hands; covered in blood, with bits of flesh clinging to her nails. “Mom?” She questioned, looking over at her mother who was trembling as men entered the house. “Mom…”

Cross tore her head away from the wall, only a few tears dripped down her cheeks, as a sweet scent of what remind her of spring entered her nostrils. It was from Lost no doubt, she was happy. The un-stable girl smiled, leaning against the bars once more and closing her eyes as years continued to drip down her cheeks.

“If you are happy… Then I can’t be sad.”


Opening her eyes, she blinked. It was the doctor, she was always nice, which was why Cross wasn’t having a fit about her being in her precious ‘bubble’. Continuing to blink, Cross just stared at her.

She muttered something under her breath before looking back at Cross. “Do you know who I am?”

Cross giggled; of course she knew who she was! “Doctor.” She answered, which was remarkable, Cross had never actually remember who she was or what she did in this facility. “Doctor Emma Lathe, Head Psychologist of this…” She thought for a second, trying to remember what some of the other members had called it. “…Hellhole.” Cross bit her lip again, almost making it bleed, but she was only nervous because she didn’t remember if she was right or not.

11th July 2006, 09:34 PM
Yeeha. Post 50.

Shan Shayna
She left. Shan was worried about what sort of 'investigating' Dr. Lathe was planning on doing. Maybe he should have said nothing, or just made something up about the drugs or the food or the air. Death couldn't be a new thing here, but deliberate death...well, Shan supposed it couldn't really be worse than a 'failed test.' The door closed behind her, but it didn't shut out the newly risen sounds of somebody hitting something very, very hard; hard as in they were hitting it with a great deal of force. It was probably someone new who was actually on the way of breaking out of at least their cell. Not that it would last long. The sound of bootsteps overlaid the strike of flesh on metal, and then silenced it. Shan sighed. It was probably Siege. Siege was supposed to be one of them, a subject. He had powers, but he also decided, or was at least convinced, to help the staff maintain order. Logically, it was a smart thing for the scientists to do. The restraints and drugs weren't foolproof; it would be necessary to have someone with the strengths of those you wished to subdue on your side. Shan didn't care much for cold logic. Siege was perpetuating this cruelness and insanity as one who should grasp at least partially what we're going through. He didn't even have the excuse the staff had of turning a blind eye to 'the freaks' and what happened to them, since he was one of the aforementioned 'freaks' himself. That's what worried Shan about being thought of as another Siege, another staff minion. Just the thought of the others believing that he would help the staff with this...experiment...He'd prefer having people know the full extent of his life before here than to think he'd ignore and add to the suffering. Really, there was no reason to believe they would think like that, but the total blindness of losing his powers to the drugs had made him a bit paranoid to what others thought of him.

He sighed and watched as a guard slid in a tray of nutrients. Shan couldn't bring himself to call it food. He picked up the tray and cautiously sniffed. Before, he had very little cash, so he only bought a small amount of food at a time that he pecked at sparingly. Nothing was thrown out until the point directly before a hazmat team would be best qualified to dispose of it. In the face of his previous eating habits, this slop wasn't much better, but at least he was trained in downing as much as he felt safe to eat without choking it back up. He pushed the tray away and lied back on his cot. The number one problem with this place wasn't the tests or the guard brutality; it was the boredom that almost made you look forward to the bad things as breaks in the monotony. Of course, when the torture started, all you wanted was monotony again.

The drugs were beginning to fade, but not enough for him to hear more than a scream of pain from farther down the hall. He couldn't place the voice. Shan rested his bandaged hand on his chest and stared up at the exposed ceiling, planning on sleeping until they let the subjects out for exercise. As his eyes began to close, he wondered if he should try being difficult again.

Darkmaster Kagemusha
11th July 2006, 09:47 PM
This one'll be short, I've got three psychologic evals to do, afterall ;P

Dr. Emma Lathe
I knew it would be a difficult session as soon as I entered Cross's cell. She had been slamming herself into the walls again, and I couldn't help but curse under my breath at the sight of blood. The staff would love this excuse to punish her some more, and I almost sighed again. I formally introduced myself to her, once again, though I was troubled by my inability to accurately describe Ashford. I had settled on hellhole, since that was more or less what it was, and what everyone considered it to be, but it had the potential to be a haven, and I wanted to be a part of that haven. I always make my thoughts too complicated. I smiled at Cross's innocently nervous look, but glanced at her lip and shook my head a bit, hoping she would recognize my request to stop. Whether she recognized it or not, I wasn't sure, but she did indeed stop, and started swaying a bit, as though she were on the verge of jumping up and tearing around the cell. "Cross, dear, you should take better care of your body. I know you don't like these walls," I said, pausing thoughtfully, but quickly, hoping to keep her attention, "but you have to be in good shape if you want to get out of them on your own."

"I'm not alone," she said wistfully, her eyes darting off in several directions while her head tipped back and forth.

"That's right," I said quietly, "you have your sisters. But they may have to leave you alone..." I finished, though it was a drifting sort of finish to a statement, meant to cause the patient to think. I hoped she would bring herself back into focus long enough for me to get some sort of idea of what she was thinking.

11th July 2006, 09:59 PM
Here's to the dreams burned like gasoline

[color=silver]"So, that was all very exciting, eh Alex?" I asked the poor kid sitting across from me. He muttered something, but I didn't catch it. "Hey," I put my hand on his, sincerly feeling for the guy. "I can totally understand... well, I can understand the helpless feeling."

"No, you can't..." he hissed, clearly wanting to be left alone. I fixed him with a stoney glare.

"I don't mean the helplessness of being caged like some animal. I know the helplessness of not knowing who or what you are. Not knowing when that other part of you is going to rise to the surface and brush you aside," I said quietly. The question lingered in his eyes. "I recognize it in someone else, kiddo. I have too many facets myself... but they all reflect the same light." I shrugged. "Most just think I'm crazy. Maybe I am, I can't remember. I don't know what my life was before this... maybe it's a blessing. But I do know that, if I got the chance to get out of here... I would still have nothing." I glanced over at Spectre, who met my gaze. "All I am is the person of the now. My past is lost, my future unknown. This is the only life I've known... so many here feel loss because of memories and knowledge of what they once had. I got here, oh, a year or two ago. I think. I can't even keep track of the time of day, much less how many go by. I don't even know if the creatures that keep us locked up know who I am. I'm just a restless ghost..."

I fell silent, sinking into my own thoughts. Spectre had some plan, a plan that didn't make any sense to me at this point. Sure, everyone else wanted out... I sometimes thought I did. Where would I go? I had no name, no story, no past... you can't have a future without a past. I was stuck at a crossroads indefinately because I didn't know which direction I came from so I could know which way to go. I only existed in one dimension, the present. If I could help the others escape, then fine. But I had no personal reason to go along with anything... But if I could make a difference for the others, then my own half existance be damned.

11th July 2006, 10:21 PM

They go through enough already, did you really need to use that much force?

Arsenal's comment stayed with him, as he found his usual seat in the lounge and settled back. Absently, he pulled a small, maroon rag from a nearby desk and ran it along Gospel, wiping its metallic surface clean of spittle...and blood. Rather troublesome, the blood. When he had first bought the rag, it had been a pristine white. Now, the maroon shade wouldn't come out, no matter how many times it was washed. Despite that, it was still effective for polishing Gospel.At least it didn't smudge.

They go through enough.

He doesn't understand, Siege thought to himself, staring into space. Out in the real world... three-fourths of the lunatics here wouldn't last a day. Hell, even if they were sane. They were too unpredictable, liable to kill you as soon as look at you. And the other quarter...if they were released... He pondered the idea for a moment, turning Gospel over in his hands to view his handiwork.

If the other fourth were released, then they would concentrate on freeing the others. Yes. That much was true. Some of them didn't have the goddamn sense to realize that if they cared only about themselves, they could escape that much quicker. No, it was either all or nothing with guys like these. No child left behind and all that. Stupidity.

Was an escape possible? No, he decided, placing the rag back inside the drawer with a SNAP. At least, not on their own. A very delicate balance of power ruled this Asylum. Drugs was part of it, staff was part of it, HE was part of it. But the balance could sway so very easily. He was aware of some of the guards' dislike with how he did things, but was content to let it stand. But if the dosage of the drugs were lessened...if the guards' position could sway...

Then we're fucked.

Did you really need to use that much force?

If there was an escape however, he would finally recieve the opportunity to use Gospel to its full lethal capacity. A chilling grin appeared upon his lips, envisioning the sight of punching a hole through some hapless lunatic. It could happen. One thing's for sure- if such a thing ever happened, there would be many chances for lethal force. We're the last vanguard against the rest of the world. Keepers. Hounds. Trusties.

Dawson approached him, snapping him out of his reverie. "Siege?"


"The kid from before- his hair changed. He's blond again- I just passed by him. Pretty out of it."

"Yeah, split personalities," Siege said. He had glanced at the files. Dawson started to leave, but Siege called him back. "Listen Dawson, play time for the boys and girls is coming. Make sure we have plenty of extinguishers on hand...just in case." He jerked a finger towards the hall. "The Human Torch down there, along with a few others, tend to get explosive. Better for all of us to stay out of sight."

"Right," Dawson nodded in agreement. "I know how easy some of them can get set off." Dawson moved off, leaving Siege to his thoughts.

Crystal Tears
11th July 2006, 10:49 PM
[font=Arial Narrow]+Cross+

Now she was completely lost, her lip quivered and she began to whimper, many thoughts entered her mind of how to actually react to what the doctor had just said. It upset her, which immediately caused tears to stream down Cross’s face, but it hadn’t upset her enough to get her to go back into the dither.

“But…” Cross was confused; as all the answers jumbled together she looked straight into the doctors eyes, and was completely sane. “We all have wings, why wouldn’t we fly together?” She seemed confused, Cross didn’t blame her, she was searching for the proper way to say it, but she didn’t know how. Angered, Cross began to lightly scratch as her wrist. “We would always go together, its only right. Never leave anyone behind…” Huffing Cross tilted her head as she scratched harder. “It wouldn’t be the right thing to do...”

“Have you ever felt alone?”

Cross stopped. “Yes… I feel alone all the time, concrete walls and bars separate me from my friends…” Her eye twitched slightly. “Feeling alone in a cage while others who are mean wandered outside them, they laugh, and poke at you, trying to find some stupid cure for something that isn’t even a disease…” She fiddled mindlessly a bit with her hair as she tried to stay calm. “I feel alone every day when they come here… You people who get to be on the other side of the bars… Don’t know what it feels like… You don’t know the true meaning or feeling of ‘alone’.”

She lost it, wrapping the blanket tighter around her herself, she dug her nail deeper into her wrist until it bled. The liquid poured out onto the floor, and stained her blanket. She kept her nail in her wrist.

“If we run away…” Cross began. “Would you come with us?” She questioned honestly, tilting her head slightly. Not even feeling her own nail burried in her wrist.

11th July 2006, 11:16 PM
Dennis Alexander "Alchemist"
I hummed a nameless tune to myself as commotion occured, it always did every so often, someone would try to escape, kill one of the staff, or all sorts of other 'occurences' would happen. I didn't look up until I heard the tramping of boots, and the click-clack of shoes outside. Sitting up, I waited as the doors opened, asking, "How may I help you, gentlemen?"

"Quit being a smartass, Alchemist, you're a lucky man. You get to skip recess, one of the docs has requested you personally for your own special evaluation." The lead guard stated, obviously a hard man, built like a brick wall.

I smiled in a nice, sane manner, replying, "Very well then, lead the way."

We walked through the halls, and I thought rather loudly, Specter, if you can hear this, I'm being taken to some special evaluation, I won't be let out with the rest of you, something's up. I just prayed that the unusual activity would have caught his interest and his attention, causing him to hear me.

I entered the shaded room, an armed guard obviously ready to use lethal force should I try anything. I sat in the provided chair, waiting for something to happen. I didn't have to wait long before the door opened and a balding person in a lab coat entered, just some random staff member.

"Greetings, Dennis, or should I call you Alchemist?" He asked in a suprisingly mild mannered tone.

"Call me what you like." I replied, "To what do I owe the pleasure of this session?"

"One of the security personell requested we evaluate you, said you were, and I quote, 'Trouble waitin' to happen.' So, we are here, shall we get to the questions?"

I sighed and nodded, either someone had felt I was getting to friendly, or they had a grudge, either way, this was going to be either mind numbingly boring or VERY irritating.

Darkmaster Kagemusha
11th July 2006, 11:19 PM
Dr. Emma Lathe
I finally gave in and sighed again, smiled sadly, and set my clipboard down. I rested my hands on hers and pulled them apart before pressing down on the new wound. "I'd love to go with you, dear, but I have something I need to do, and until then, I have to stay and fight. You've got to stay and fight, too, Cross, but only for a little while, I hope," I knew I had trailed off, but I needed to keep her focus as best I could. "You make sure you take care of yourself, and take care of your sisters when the time comes," I said, pulling my hand away from her wrist enough to see that it had stopped bleeding. I stood back up and picked up my clipboard with my clean hand. "I have to go talk to your sisters now, Cross," I added, "Try to take care of yourself, for their sake," and walked out, closing the cell door softly behind me. I knew that Cameron had been watching me talking to Cross, but I doubted that she heard what I had said, though if she had, I'd know soon enough. The time for the guards to let everyone out for exercise was nearing, and I hoped to talk to Lost at least a little bit beforehand, since I hadn't seen how she reacted in that environment yet--I was supposed to take my lunch break when they were let out for exercise. I snapped out of my reverie to realise that a guard had offered me a handkerchief, and I took it to get as much of the blood off my hand as possible before I started scratching on my clipboard with a pen, though I kept Cross's ability to focus to myself. Afterall, I didn't want someone thinking that the horrible treatment they were giving her made her better. I let myself sigh again, and moved to Lost's cell, hoping I would be able to make her feel comfortable with me. "Hello, there," I said softly, seeing that she was lying down. I noticed that the air around her cell smelled faintly of perfume, and hoped that meant I had chosen a good time.

11th July 2006, 11:57 PM
Here you go Ace... I think you need some help with the 'baddie staffer' rap. lol

Name: Liz Oblaso AKA Hunter
Subject Number: Unknown
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Subject or staff: Staff
Appearance: Liz stands about 5'8 and has a very graceful build. Her body is toned and solid, but evenly proportioned so that she has a rather slim build. Her skin is a golden-ripe tan and shimmers slightly with her body, matching her raven-black hair that reaches past her shoulders. Liz has piercing honey-flecked eyes of gold, that tend to look wolfish and always seem quite menacing. She usually wears a tight white sleeveless shirt that hugs about her chest and upper torso, but exposes a small portion of her defined lower abdomen. About her lower half she wears spandex-like shorts, but all of her clothing is very flexible and easily breathes with her movement.
The thing that really defines Liz however... is a few trademark things. She has tiger-like stripes about her body, including along her cheek bone line and jawline (these stripes are about half as many as a real tiger would have and are thicker however). She also almost always crouches when she 'sits' and she prefers to "run" on all fours, and she is surprisingly quick at it.
Personality: Hunter's personality is basically animalistic. She understands human speech and knows basic human concepts, but beyond that she understands little. She sees things as 'black and white' and does not understand greater human concepts of work, morals and such like that. She takes orders with fierce loyalty and knows only what she has been taught.
Weapon: Herself?
Power: Hunter's powers are animalistic. She has heightened senses of smell, sight and hearing along with extreme agility.
History: Liz's powers developed at a very early age for her. She was an orphan and when her powers manifested, swiftly her foster parents notified the proper officials. Eventually after long trials and tribulations, it was noted that she had an 'x factor' gene which manifested into powers. Soon she was experimented upon and was thrusted into the hands of the military. The military wanted to carve her powers the way they wanted her to use them... and after several years of training and torture, they finally created her into the 'creature' they wanted her to be. She has forgotten her past and only knows the basic things perhaps any animal would know. She follows orders to a fault and does not hesitate to do what she is commanded. She is fierce and has no distinction over what is 'right' and what is 'wrong'- only what her master commands. She was used for many successful military excursions, until they gained knowledge about the 'Ashford Asylum'. Interested in what fruit it could bare (perhaps more like Liz), they contributed a great deal of money to the research and techniques and also sent Liz along. She is meant to be a reinforcer and they have assigned her to follow the orders of Siege. (Hope you don't mind Ace...)
Relations: Listens to the order of Siege and no one else.
Other: Liz AKA Hunter will follow of Siege because the military trained her to follow the orders of the one who wears the 'key'. The 'key' is a long necklace with a tag upon it with a few symbols... and the tag emits a scent as well so Liz can always find the commander.



Hunter's golden eyes flashed a snarly glare at the guards she passed as she walked through the asylum doors. Of course, by 'walking' she more so did an animalistic crawl, but not upon her knees but rather her feet and hands. She could walk like a human if ordered... but this way was more natural, this way they had more control. She was following a large man in a uniformed suit, and he swiftly walked by the guards with a commanding tone and a very authoritive stance. Eventually he stopped and Hunter stopped by his side as well, flashing her gaze up ahead to see a man walking their way. He carried a very large golden weapon with him as well... and she could tell by instinct that his demeanor was confident, much like her 'commander' now. He stopped in front of her commander and seemed to look at him with a calm and cool manner, unlike the guards who seemed bewildered and slightly frightened.
" Siege, correct?" The man spoke, and Siege gave a nod.
" We have talked to the Asylum and I am sure they have told you about our interest in this facility. In any case, we have heard a lot about you and your aid to the control and order of Ashford. However, we would like to aid you and this place with what we can... and in doing so, we have Hunter here." The man wavered his head down to the 'pet' at his side, and she simply looked at Siege with a scrutinizing gaze. Despite her demeanor and stripes... she was quite an exotic beauty. Her long raven hair was dangling about her shoulders as her skin glistened in the light, her figure being shown defined through her tight clothing.
"As long as you wear this... she will listen to any command you have issued. I hope you have read the files we sent you... they should contain all the information about her, to give you a better understanding of her strengths and history. If you have any problems or concerns, notify me."
With that, the man took off the necklace and handed it to Siege.

[ laaadeee daa.... ]

12th July 2006, 12:24 AM
Ah thank goodness. Just when I was beginning to wonder if the only thing holding back a mass revolt was poor ol' Seige...thanks Bulba!


The chain was a curious thing, like a odd looking dog tag. Inscribed into the metal was not a name or a number, but words that seemed to be in another language. Carefully, he took the chain and draped it over his neck, placing it securely inside of his shirt. He caught an odd scent on the tag as it passed his nostrils...and he noticed Hunter's gaze shifting almost imperceptibly to him. Her handler nodded, as if this was expected.

"Very good. Any other questions you may have can be found in the files that I have sent you. Good day, and good luck.We have many expectations about this project, that I am sure you will fulfill." The man turned his back and walked back down the hallway, unperturbed by the cells around him, or their cellmates. Siege's gaze dropped from the man's back to Hunter. It was a bit unnerving, (even for what he had witnessed) to see this girl watching him the way a dog might... or rather, a wildcat.

Still, in the hall, in the sight of the inmates, it wasn't good to show it. There would be time for thought later. He nodded to Hunter, and turned her back on her, walking back down the hallway. The girl followed, loping along on all fours, keeping a close but respectful distance to her handler.

12th July 2006, 12:42 AM
The sickly psychic watched as Siege and his new 'pet' left the cell block. Spectre was curious about this one. She acted like an animal, but was this intentional. Did they do something to her or was it willingly?

He was too ill to ponder these questions. He was more concerned with Poltergiest at the moment. She had told him long ago that she had no recollection of her past and for some reason, Spectre almost wanted to help her remember as much as she wanted to remember. He wasn't sure why though.

"Poltergiest," he whispered over to her, he was still too ill to use telepathy. Poltergiest was a bit amazed that he was actually speaking and not telepathically.


"You still got your food?" Spectre didn't feel like speaking in German, he was still reeling from the drugs. Poltergiest nodded and showed him her bowl. He took hers and swapped it with his own.

"What are you?"

"You know as well as I do that they slip drugs in our food."

"Don't they put the same drugs in yours too?"

"Not this time. They went overboard with the drugs after the experiment." Poltergiest had clearly noticed Spectre's ailment, but now she knew why.

"But wait a minute? Wouldn't taking anymore..."

"I'm willing to take that risk. We need to get your powers back."

"But why?"

"I"ll explain later. Someone's coming."

The twowent quiet and began eating out of their bowels as a guard passed.

12th July 2006, 03:01 AM


.: Lost | F :.

The scent continued to flourish in the air, which only made Lost close her eyes and recollect the few memories of happiness she had. She could almost imagine herself there... outside in a field of flowers, picking them and laughing happily with her parents. However, a few sounds caused her eyes to open and her head to turn ever so slightly to see a familiar woman outside her cell. She slowly allowed herself in as she greeted Lost, seeming a bit tentative. Not in fear... no, she didn't really fear Lost. She seemed to be apprehensive... perhaps she had already known Lost's tendancy to ignore or pretend to be drugged state with other staff members.
"Hello." Lost replied to her, not moving but keeping herself in her lying down position. Her head was halfway off the bed, her blonde hair billowing over the edge as her eerie white-blue eyes stared intently at the woman.
" May I talk to you for a moment?" Emma said, and Lost gave an upside down nod. Emma came closer and sat upon the bed next to Lost, a move that few would dare do with any of the cells. Lost turned her head to look at her, feeling perhaps impressed or a bit faintly happy that someone was willing to get close to her without pain.
"How are you feeling today?" Emma asked, to which Lost seemed to grow a smile. Emma had caught her at a rare moment- one of her moments at which Lost was fully understandable- almost to a point where the language she used and the manner at which she spoke went far beyond her age.
" This morning I was met with the doctor who calls himself, 'daddy' in my presense. He knows it fills me with rage... and it was expected that I grew so angry that the lights exploded and a few pipes broke. The one pipe was filled with large boiling pressurized water... and it boiled a guard. Then I woke in my cell again, and I was sad so I brought the mist of dew. I don't try to though... the firey phoenix did not like my coming of water and it made me even more sad. Then the Silence came and hurt myself and the one who calls himself Alex. Then my sister... Cross, the little dove, she gave me chocolate through Seraphim. I liked it a lot... it made me remember... " Lost's voice trailed off as her eyes seemed to spin slightly as she withdrew a breath, as if recalling another memory.
" What did you remember?"
Lost returned her gaze at Emma. "It made me remember when I was happy... but it was so long ago."

12th July 2006, 06:29 AM
Setzer Maringber=The 5th

A second ago, I fainted. Another 15 hours to sleep on.
Of course, it was ALWAYS longer than 15, thanks to those know-it-all's known as mad scientists. They never cared for that I needed 15 hours to sleep before they could really poke and prod at me. They do it all within 5 minutes anyway. Besides, even if they do find something, it won't be much to put down on paper. I heard footsteps, a lot of them. I knew a couple of the other subjects were staring at me, well, not much to be done about that. Soon enough, I was being dragged on my feet. That's one hour added. After a couple minutes of pondering what they'll do to me this time.
Oh, and that's another hour for crashing me on the table! Sheesh, won't they ever get it right? Then again, I thought that they never cared about...erm...subject rights?
Short, but in a hurry.

12th July 2006, 07:47 AM

Lunchtime was one of the few pleasures I allowed myself at the asylum. It was my chance to get away from everything that was going on in the cells. For the briefest of moments I could pretend that everything was okay, that I was back home with my mum and things were how they should be. They never would be. Not as long as this place existed. Someday I was going to change all that. I'd take Cross and her sisters and we'd leave this place. I sighed. No, I couldn't do that. I couldn't leave any of them behind. It was all or none. But how I was gonna do that I had no idea. Sighing, I proded at my sandwich uninterested. It'd be time to take them out of their cells soon, 'exercise' they called it. Observation was more like it.

The door to the staff cafteria swung open, crashing against the steel wall with a thunderous clash. I looked up from my meal to see Siege enter with a new girl...well woman...She was a peculiar sight, no doubt about it. Walking on all fours like an animal, she almst seemed more like a pet to Siege than anything else. It was unnerving to say that least. In Ashford, Siege was the one person you'd never dream of crossing. He'd tear you apart sooner than look at you. In some ways, he was crazier than some of the patients.

He caught my gaze and walked over, each footstep echoing menacingly in the quiet room. I gulped down a bite of apple and tried to hold my gaze.


"Siege. Is that a new partner?" I figured if I kept him talking I wouldn't managed to somehow piss him off.

"This is hunter. She's going to help us keep watched over the subjects."

"I see. Hello Hunter."

A quick flash crossed her gaze. "Hello."

Siege grunted and I turned my attention back to him. "Start taking the subjects out for their exercise. Start with Seraphim, but leave her sisters."

"I'm not sure that's wise -"

"I didn't ask for an opinion."

I frowned slightly. I wasn't stupid enough to try and cross him but I wanted to try and get some idea as to what was going on inside that fat head of his. "I'll get her as soon as I've finished eating."

In a flash, he raised his weapon an sent it crashing down into the table. It cracked and folded under the pressure, laying in split pieces smothered in the squishy remains of my meal.

"Now," he growled.

I gulped down a lump in my throat. "Y-yes sir..." And scampered outside into the corridor before angering him further. Taking a moment to compose myself, I made my way down to Cameron's cell. The doctor, the nice one whose name I couldn't remember, was visiting Lost. I walked past silently and opened up Cameron's cell. There was the faintest smell of chocolate wafting about the cell. I knew Cross had shared the chocolate I'd given her yesterday and I didn't mind. It was comforting to think I might be bringing some happiness to some of the patients here.

"Hello Cameron."

She watched me cautiously. "Ryoss never comes to me...he prefers Cross better..."

"Doesn't mean I can't pay you a little visit now and then. I'm under orders to take you for exercise. I think it's kinda early personally but there you go."

I saw her gaze drift longingly to Cross' cell across the hallway and Lost's cell beside her.

"You know I can't take the three of you together. You'll have to wait for them to be let out later."

Cameron sighed gently and looked to the ceiling. "All together, all flying away together."

I took her hand gently and led her to the door slowly. "Someday Cameron. Come on, the sooner we get you outside the sooner you can be with your sisters again."

12th July 2006, 12:01 PM
(We think alike Bulba, I had this all ready for today and came to see that you had the same idea. The evil types need a bit of a boost)

Name: Dr. Kisanger

Subject Number: None

Age: 38

Gender: Male

Subject or staff: Staff

Appearance: Dr. Kisanger dresses like most any other scientist in Ashford Asylum. A white lab coat (occasionally stained by God knows what) covers most of his body so most never see the simple long sleeved green shirt and slacks he wears underneath it. His most pronounced feature is his face which could be described as “sharp”. His eyebrows seem to be perpetually tilted downwards and his somewhat long nose and incredibly long jawline only serve to enhance the image. He wears a typical pair of anime glasses (i.e they reflect light like crazy). His black hair is long and hangs in small clumps to about his shoulders.

Personality: Dr. Kisanger loves his research and his research only. The prices that others must pay in order for him to further that love do not matter to him. Subjects have entered his lab to never be seen again or, if they survive, to be but empty shells of their former selves. His manner is easy, despite his brutal techniques, and a sure sign of danger is sudden politeness that precludes most of his experiments. Kisanger will do anything to discover something new about the genetics of the subjects, after all it -is- in the name of Science.

Weapon: Sedation Drugs, a few other odds and ends he has developed.

Power: Revealing this would ruin a lot of his character. He -does- have some kind of power but I’m afraid that I can’t reveal exactly what it is for the sake of the character.

History: Dr. Kisanger lived a normal life before Ashford, normal for one who was marked as a scientific genius at the age of twelve that is. Attending one of the top research universities in the world, he was hired as a genetics researcher by Ashford after a few years of work at a more subdued genetics research facility. He has worked at Ashford since its creation and has made several breakthroughs in their research, at the cost of at least a dozen subject’s lives. Driving him is his intense, almost fanatical, want for knowledge and, by extension, power.

Relations: By his very nature Kisanger’s going to be an eventual target of Arsenal in his “purification” of Ashford. He has decent relations with the rest of the staff, he is neither extremely personable or standoffish. He respects Seige for his ability to keep the subjects he is working with in line and extends at least some of that respect to Hunter as well.

Other: Very few people have ever seen his entire lab and those that have are either dead, shattered, or disgusted.

(OOC: I'll wait for acceptance before posting as him)


Arsenal sat at the computer terminal in his quarters, typing instructions furiously. He had deactivated the survelliance bug he had found on the station almost immedietly after arriving (his MWS system locating and targetting it easily), and had opened up Ashford's directory of staff. Scrolling past those he knew to be generally intereseted in the good of mankind, and who showed little hostility towards the subjects, he slowed as certain names passed. Mentally he began to make a list, storing it in his neural computer's harddrive for later access. If he was going to purify Ashford he was going to need to make a heirarchy, find those that he knew needed to go and begin working up from the bottom until all were either turned to his point of view or eliminated. The scientists would be easy enough, with little combat training they would be sitting ducks when he came for them. It was the guards, most notably Seige and, Arsenal noted with a slight widening of his eyes, another subject turned guard who had just arrived codenamed Hunter.

Can't do it alone eh?

Arsenal shook his head, speaking into the air much to the confusion of Ares who was lounging on the warm tower of his computer, "At first maybe...but once it becomes obvious that people are dissapearing I'm going to need help. Can't let anyone escape and if Seige and this Hunter get to me before I can finish the weak ones off then I'll run out of time, assuming that I can take them in the first place."

Guess you're going to need a little help eh?

Frowning, Arsenal bought one of his hands up to stroke at his newly trimmed beard, still scrolling through the directory and making his internal list, "The subjects you mean? Sure, some might help me but what about those who just want to escape? I'm not going to let any of them go, and even if I do mange to make this hell comfortable enough to live in again, there'll still be those who won't want to stay."

The enemy of my enemy is my friend. What you're proposing is better than what they have now by about...let's see...a couple thousand percent? Most'll help. Once they don't have to worry about dying or whatnot, then they'll start making their plans to escape, something you won't be letting them do.

Leaning forward to deactivate his console, his mental list had been completed, Arsenal scooped up Ares and deposited the sleeping cat on his shoulder where, against all odds and laws of physics, the cat rested quite stably. Grabbing his cloak from its hook, Arsenal swept it over his shoulder and quickly marched out of his room, leaving it dark behind him. There had to be someone planning an escape attempt, there always was, maybe this time he'd offer them an alternative. It wouldn't be exactly what they wanted but it would offer them at least a chance of succeeding. As he marched out of the guard's section of the facility and into the cell block, Arsenal soon paused at one of the tiny holding cells. After Lost's comment to him, she had been distracted by another of the subjects, leaving Arsenal to watch mournfully for a moment before moving on. Now however her words came back to him. Softly he murmered to himself, "She gave me a name..."

Decisively, Arsenal turned and peered into the small opening into the cell. To his suprise, Lost was speaking to another one of the staff members. Mentally, Arsenal identified her, "Dr. Emma Lathe, not on the list."

What a convenient coincidence. We might make two allies here...

Clearing his throat, Arsenal unlocked the door with his pass key and stood unthreateningly at the open entrance. A soft smile played across his lips, "I'm sorry if I am disturbing you...but I was hoping to have a few words with Lost here, you might want to stay as well Doctor Lathe."

The smile remained as he continued quietly, "Panthers dislike cages almost as much as birds do."

12th July 2006, 01:05 PM
Weeee!! Sorry, but it appears people like this RPG a lot mystic... great idea. ^_^


.: Lost | F :.

( I am thinking that Emma might have talked a bit more here, so feel free to add a little extra before this point if you'd like.)

"Panthers dislike cages almost as much as birds do." Arsenol had spoken, causing Lost's head to tilt upwards slightly as her light eyes seemed to peer at him. She was examining his stature and his appearance... but to her approval, his stature had not changed since last time. He still was different and she liked it that he was different. It meant that her pain would be lessened...
Emma had stood up almost as immediately as Arsenol had entered, staring at him with a bewildered and slightly confused gaze. Lost looked to Emma and she allowed a small fraction of a smile to grow upon her face.
"Thy worries shall fade away like gentle spring rain... for the Panther does not stalk the cages for the broken birdies." Emma's eyes seemed to falter slightly, for Lost's speech had remained slightly coherent but it still was slightly riddled.
Lost rose to her feet and then took a few steps barefoot upon the cold floor before plopping herself into a cross-legged position upon the floor. The red mark from Siege's earlier attack was still visible upon her head along with a few bruises from the wall, but for the most part she was appearing to be a bit healthy. The uneaten and now hardened food in the corner still remained uneaten...

"Panther my rest upon the bed and Emma may stay to join." Lost confirmed, giving a nod of the head. "Only if Emma wants to...but sister butterfly has been taken out to play." Lost gave another nod, before finally resting her gaze upon Arsenol. Her eyes closed briefly before opening extremely slowly, and it seemed as if a slight change formed upon her once again- similiar to that when Emma first began talking to Lost.
"Why brings thyself here?"



Hunter's eyes seemed to swiftly scan the room from almost anything. Her eyes looked for signs of weaknesses in every single figure and found countless numbers of the same common weakness. Her ears detected so many conversations, all riddled with talk about the 'patients'. The smell of the room also was swarming with so many different scents- most of what she recognized. Various drugs, different humanoid smells, burned smells, food smell... and there were thousands more. Sitting in her crouched position, Hunter watched as the one known as Ryoss left. She had said hello to him- in her smooth, exotic tongue - and that would probably be the only word she would ever say to him. Hunter did not speak unless she was commanded to do so, or if it was an absolute need.
"The patients here will soon all be out for their 'exercise' routine..." Siege spoke as he continued to almost prowl around this break area, filled with staff members. " We will head over there soon and you can then see what they look like- or at least what most look like." Hunter gave an affirming gutteral growl as she nodded, turning her gaze to a particular staff member she saw eating his lunch. Her eyes narrowed... as she scented some thing upon him that she did not like, but she shrugged it off swiftly and continued to walk by Siege's side.

She was a predator just waiting for a chance to hunt.

12th July 2006, 02:36 PM
(Heh, it's Arsenal. Arsenol sounds like a new brand of detergent :cool:)



Arsenal moved to stand by Lost's bed. The thing was sad, a rusty cot covered in the barest of matresses. Unsure if it would hold both Dr. Lathe he instead sat on the floor next to it, spreading his cloak out beneath him and resting his back against the wall. He had closed the door behind him, no one would know the three were in here unless a scientist came by for yet another experiment. Arsenal was prepared in case that happened, his hand placed inconspiciously on his lap facing the door. Seeing Lost's attention on him he paused a moment to consider his words. Lost spoke in puzzling phrases and Arsenal felt compelled to respond in kind, deciding the girl would understand him best that way.

I never took you for a poet...

Arsenal ignored his mind and instead began to speak, "The birds might be able to break free of their cage, but what happens after? Perhaps the panther may guard them in their new home...so that they can still give their song to the wolrd."

12th July 2006, 03:47 PM

~Life is painless for the brainless. Why think too hard when it's so soothing?~

The chocolate was a Godsend. It reminded me of those days of getting treats from my grandmother whenever I went to stay with her. Mother never let me have chocolate.

"Cammie, you're a dancer and fat girls don't make good dancers..."

My mother had a wonderful way of putting everything. I think I may have hated her a little. I'm not sure.

I don't like to remember. In fact, I rather hate it.

I kept my eyes fixed on Emma, the psychologist and one of the few people here who's name I bothered to recall. She was talking to Cross, but I couldn't hear what they were discussing, since they were talking in hushed voices. My maternal- if one could really call it that- instincts were kicking in. I didn't trust anyone not to get frustrated with Cross and Lost when it came to dealing with them, no matter how patient they were.

Although... I got the same feeling I got from Arsenal whenever I looked upon the good doctor. Like I could trust her, maybe.

I sighed and shook my head just in time to hear someone open the door to my cell and step inside. I raised and eyebrow and looked upon the face of Ryoss. I'd seen him around, though it was hard not to when the boy hung around Cross's cell as if he were about ten seconds away from singing "On The Street Where You Live" and doing a tap dance in her honor.

I know the look of love on a young boy's face when I see it, and I was torn between amusement and that sisterly desire to rip him apart to keep him from hurting her.

It was an odd mix of emotions, indeed.

Still, I had no real hatred of the boy.

"Hello, Cameron."

Ah, one of the few who still knows my real name. Tres amusing...

However, I wasn't in the best of moods and as it turned out, I knew what he was here for- the time had come for my exercise. Fun...

So I did what any mild-mannered, good-natured sane girl would do when faced with this sort of situation.

I feigned insanity.

"Ryoss never comes to me...he prefers Cross better..." I murmered, my high-pitched voice taking on a similar lilting tone that Cross and Lost's voices take on whenever they're locked in the thralls of one of their less-than-sane moods.

"Doesn't mean I can't pay you a little visit now and then. I'm under orders to take you for exercise. I think it's kinda early personally but there you go."

Either this kid was the best actor in the world or he really thought I had lost my noodle. Then again, I was pretty sure there was an office pool going on about when I'd finally lose it, since I had shown many a time how hard it was to break me.

I let my gaze drift longingly to Cross' cell across the hallway and Lost's cell beside her, where the good lady doctor was paying her a visit.

"You know I can't take the three of you together. You'll have to wait for them to be let out later."

I gave a theatric sigh and looked to the ceiling. "All together, all flying away together."

He took her hand gently and led me to the door slowly, and I blinked in confusion at the gesture. "Someday Cameron. Come on, the sooner we get you outside the sooner you can be with your sisters again."

He opened the door and closed it behind us. I finally rolled my eyes. "Had you going there for a second, didn't I?"

Ryoss looked at me and smirked. "I didn't believe you for an instant. You're a terrible actor."

"Moi? Please," I scoffed lightly, looking up at him. He towered over me, which was to be expected since I was extremely short and most did just that.

There was a long pause as the two of us exited the cell block and headed in the direction of the spacious gym-like complex, since they very well couldn't let us outside... Well, that is assuming we really are in the Arctic. I'd always questioned that theory a little.

"Siege has a new partner," Ryoss said, at last.

"And I may be one of the few people sane enough to understand how bad that is," I nodded sagely.

"You ever think it would be easier to just give up the melancholy burden of sanity?"

"Yes and no. Don't change the subject. I'm easily confused." Ryoss had a good laugh at that. "What's he like?"

"She, actually. She's kinda creepy... Like an animal."

"They're all animals..." Ryoss looked taken aback by that so I added. "Except you, Emma, and Arsenal. I like you guys. Geez, how do people like you wind up in a place like this?"

Ryoss shrugged. "Various reasons, I suppose."

We finally arrived at the gym which was virtually empty. This was probably to be expected seeing as Ryoss had pointed out that it was still early. I supposed whomever gave the orders wanted me away from Cross and Lost for awhile. Those jerks...

At any rate, others would be arriving but for now it was just me.

I stepped into the gym and stretched a little. If I was to be the lone subject in the gym, I figured I'd take advantage of the situation and dance a little. It had been so long since I've danced.

As I stretched, something came into my mind and I glanced at Ryoss. "Uh, wait a second... Doesn't that one guy have dibs on me or something?"

Ryoss blinked in confusion, and then suddenly gasped in realization. "Ohh... Dr. Weslian... I haven't seen him in awhile."

I blinked, starting to wonder if perhaps there was something I had missed somewhere. I shook my thoughts away and finished stretching.

"You wouldn't happen to have any music on you?" I asked with a small grin. Ryoss shrugged.

"I'll bring a stereo next time. Your file said you were a dancer back in the real world... So you're going to dance?"

"I'm going to try."

"Should I turn around?"

I laughed. "You can watch if you want."

And then I danced, the music playing in my head as I recalled every movement in the routine.

Despite all the chaos, all the insanity, and all that... It felt good to let go and fall into the warm embrace of the one thing I truly loved.

I'd have to dance at Ryoss and Cross's wedding to thank the boy for giving me this opportunity.

OOC: I re-read the topic, and I totally didn't regard the Wicked comments at all, silly unobservant me. Yay! Wicked!

Darkmaster Kagemusha
12th July 2006, 05:58 PM
Dr. Emma Lathe
"It made me remember when I was happy... but it was so long ago," Lost said, looking quite wistful again. I couldn't help but smile--even though she hadn't been happy in so long, she could at least remember being happy. That gave me as much hope as anything else.

"Don't worry, dear, you and your sisters will all be happy again soon," I said gently. I had planned to say a bit more, perhaps get her to tell me what made her happy, but I heard the cell door open behind me. At first I had been startled, jumping up and wondering what on earth Arsenal could want with Lost, but her statement about the Panther not stalking the broken birds calmed me down. It was strange, I thought, that something so obtuse and abstract could still be comforting. I would have to try it sometime. Until then, though, Lost had invited Arsenal and I to sit with her, which I thought to be a wonderful sign, though I was concerned about what Arsenal would have to say.

"The birds might be able to break free of their cage, but what happens after? Perhaps the panther may guard them in their new home...so that they can still give their song to the world." The words seemed strange coming from such a person, and the wording was not as fluid as Lost's, but it seemed as though it would get the job done, nonetheless. The conversation was likely to become quite interesting at that point, and so I most definitely did not want to leave yet.

"Birds need not break a cage that has been opened," I said, almost to myself, and before I had even realized that I had said anything. "I'm sorry about that...please, continue," I finished, wondering why on earth I had interjected like that. I sighed quietly, and sat patiently.

12th July 2006, 06:25 PM

I leant back, watching Cameron dance gracefully to silent music. I liked Cameron, heck I liked both of Cross' sisters but Cameron was the easiest to deal with. She was by far the most sane. I always wanted to make sure that they understood that I was a nice guy, maybe they could put a good word in for me seeing as how Cross seemed to block out everything about me.

"I didn't know you were so talented. Your talents really are wasted in this hellhole."

She smiled at me. "I'd like to dance for real someday. With a nice dress and music."

"Your sisters would love to watch. I'd like to see it too."

"They look up to me you know," she stated calmly, skipping over to me.

"I know."

"If anything happens to them you know I have to come down on you."

I nodded again. "I wouldn't expect anything else from you."

She stared at me calmly before a gentle smile crossed her face. "You're a good person Ryoss, I hope Cross realises it before the end."

"Will you talk to her for me? She thinks all I'm interested in is..." My eyes dropped and I looked away.

I left her hand grace my cheek and I looked to her. "You carry so much pain Ryoss...why do you chase after Cross when you know she is just going to cause you more heartache?"

"I love her," I replied truthfully, "and maybe someday she'll understand what that means. The time will come when I can get you and your sisters out of here, but I'm going to need her to trust me."

"She will learn to trust you. She just doesn't understand her yet. She just needs time."

I sighed, my hands falling to my hips. I stretched my neck back, staring up at the roof of the gym. "I'm not sure how much time we have left Cameron."

The arrival of another guard prompted an end to our conversation. The other patients would be brought here soon and I would have to get the rest, though without any orders I was free to release whomsoever I pleased. "I'll go get Cross," I told her quietly. "Watch out for that guard, some people in this place can't be trusted."

"Take care Ryoss..."

With the slighest of nods I headed out of the gym and back towards the cells. Arsenal and the doctor were still with Lost so I carried on straight to Cross' cell. I opened the door and stood in the doorway watching her silently.

"Do you want to go play with your sister?"

12th July 2006, 08:25 PM
Oh it is hilarious thinking of two sane people trying to speak 'insane' language... XD What a cult we have going on!


.: Lost | F :.

Lost stared at the two for a moment, seeming almost like a statue as her ice-bitten eyes of white blue held their gaze for an extended silence. Her blonde hair seemed to straggle across her eyes as the silence continued... almost to the point where it was deafening. Then, Lost suddenly broke into a fit of giggles. Her eyes scrunched together as she placed her hands over her mouth and began to giggle wildly. Her hair bounced with the rippling laughter she emitted softly as she let her self rock slightly back and forth. After her giggling fit, Lost regarded them again with her eyes as she smiled.
"Silly ones... attempting to sing with the birdie upon the morning dawn. The panther does let loose a nice comforting purr, however the panther needs to greet the kingdom before guarding its treasures. The kingdom is a cage that has many bars... yet there are spaces within the bars which songs and hope flutter through. One day the animals of the kingdom shall become light as the harmonious songs!" Lost suddenly seemed to rise to her feet as she playfully spun across the floor, a wild sparkle in her eye as she looked at the other two. She smiled suddenly, mischeviously- as if she had a plan thought up in her head.
" My sisters they have ideas. The Wolf has ideas. The Whisper has ideas. The Ghost has ideas. All have ideas pouring from their souls... and one must craft them together and mold them into a ball to play with. "
Arsenal seemed to give a nod, "The Panther wants to protect the birdie and the others... along with their ideas. Beyond this place however are dangerous things... things which will hurt the birdie's flight if she chooses to go to far. The Panther does not want that."
Lost regarded Arsenal for a second, before giving a slight nod and looking to Emma and then back to the two of them. Clasping her hands together, she gave a cheerful little nod.
"In order for plants to stay, they need water. They need beautiful colorful sun and precious soil. If the plants are stuck upon the rocks... they cannot grow, they cannot live."
Arsenal opened his mouth as if to say some thing else, but suddenly the sound of a large slamming door echoed through the hallway. The clattering sound of several shoes hitting the cement caused Lost to swiftly look to Arsenal and Emma again. Quietly she whispered in a giddy tone.
"Lost has an idea... Lost knows things. Lost sees pretty sister butterfly's bracelets. Pretty little bracelets filled with darkness." Lost's eyes closed briefly as they reopened, her voice changing now to a slightly darker tone.
"The bracelets of thy sister clip her wings. Yet mine own self knows that whence anger comes... the world around breaks. One day, thy men of pain will bring mine anger around thy sister... and then..." Lost suddenly let an eerie smirk come to her face as she flashed an all-knowing glinting gaze at the two of them.

"... bracelets go snap."

The door violently opened as a figure stood in the doorway, along with two other guard-like men. His glasses glinted in the light as he seemed to chuckle at the scene before him.
"Having a counseling session?" The man said swiftly, looking at Emma before glancing halfly at Arsenal. He then pointed at Lost, which one of the guards swiftly entered the room and simply picked her off the ground as if she was as light as a feather. Lost gazed at the man's eyes and instantly she let out a scream.
"Lost wants none of you! None of you! Lost hates! Hates!" She screamed over again, trying frantically to kick and bite her way from the guard's grip, but he was well prepared with thick clothing garments and a strong arm.
"Now Lost... it is exercise time, and today you have the privilage of being with me." The man said with a smirk, looking back at Emma and Arsenal. "I suggest you find a new task."
With that, the man began to walk away as the guard continued to walk with the fighting Lost in his arms. Her eyes were filled with frustration and fear, and the lights within the hallway began to quiver. As they walked down the hallway, the structure of a few of the walls nearest to Lost seemed to crack slightly, as the air suddenly became extremely warm and dry. However, within moments that Lost was in her room... she was now gone, the hallway door slamming as she disappeared with them.

[ Sorry, figured we'd have to ruin this some how. XD ]

12th July 2006, 09:17 PM
Finnaly, some time...

Setzer Maringber-5th

Those scientists never knew where to stop. Every time they poked me added about a couple minutes to that already 15 plus hours of sleep time. I knew that if the military had some intrest in the Asylum that they were dying to use that excess energy as a weapon. Yeah, right. They want to use everything as a weapon, for crying out loud. So to use me as a weapon would be near impossible. Knowing those mad scientists who claim its all for the good of "mankind", they'll find a way.

Sometimes I wish I had a limited amount of regenerations before I just die. Man will those guys be disapointed when I die.
Of course, that was when I felt a massive burst of energy being released. Unlike the other usual releases, it hurt. Right out my mouth. That made me numb. I could smell smoke and hear some cheering.
"I see we have a new weapon. How many joules?"
"Enough to blow a hole through a M1A1 Abrams tank within a short time. Fortunetly, the subject cannot use this without external activation, so don't worry about the cell. I would keep some guards on him at all times."
And with that they kept trying to get the same results.
Now it was at least 18 hours. For once, sleeping in the cell seemed more civilized than being poked and prodded at in this torture chamber.
Though I was asleep, I noticed the similar noise of someone being dragged in by two soldiers. Yeah, you recongize that noise after two years.

12th July 2006, 09:35 PM
Everybody's a ticking time bomb..I'd think I'd want the sisters together rather than separate, but w/e.
Such lovely conversation...

Exercise time had begun.

He stepped out into the hall, Hunter behind him. Further down, he could see Ryoss standing in the doorway of a cell. At the end of the hall, he could see three guards 'escorting' the little girl, the potential escapee, to the gym. The lights above them flickered rapidly, before steadying again. Have to get those replaced. He motioned to Hunter, who looked up attentively.

"Look closely. Here are those you should watch."

"Yes." Hunter said at once, her eyes turning watchful.

They started down the hall, towards Ryoss. All of the other inmates were in their cells. Spectre and Poltergeist sat with their trays in front of them...but they weren't eating. Odd, but not noteworthy. A good deal of the inmates were passed out on their beds...these would be ignored, unless by chance they woke with time remaining for exercise. Otherwise, they would miss out. In an empty cell stood Arsenal and the psychologist. Hunter growled, a low rumble that did not go unnoticed.


Lathe looked up at him, her eyes contemplative. Usually, she preferred to have her sessions with the patients alone, with a guard posted outside if needed. This particular cell was the little girl's...the one who been taken out. There was no guard here...instead, Arsenal was inside the cell. Inside.

"It would be best to wait until after exercise time, before you continue your evaluations. They get so little time to exercise, you see," he finished, a cheerless grin appearing on his face. The doctor paled, but kept her composure.

"Of course." Her eyes flickered towards Arsenal, then back to his face. It was a furtive glance that Siege disliked on sight. What had they been discussing?

As the doctor exited the cell, Siege turned to Arsenal. A mocking grin appeared on his face, as if the two were sharing a secret only they knew about."I didn't know you were interested in psychology, Arsenal. Hoping to pick up some notes from the good doctor?"

Arsenal said nothing. The small black cat around his neck stared at him with intelligent eyes. Siege nodded as if he had responded. He would think about this later, when there was time. He turned his back on the man and exited the cell. Hunter eyed him a bit longer, before following after Siege.

Ryoss' tone was soft, almost pleading, "Do you want to play with your sister?" The inmate inside began to respond, but fell silent, spotting Siege behind him. Noticing her expression, Ryoss turned around to face him. Siege watched his eyes carefully. They were surprised,but...also tender. So much truth, hiding in the eyes. Even animals knew it. He wondered if Hunter could see it as well.

"Ryoss, do you dislike the way I do things?" he asked in a soft, conspiratorial tone.

"N-no!" the guard stammered, caught off guard by his arrival and the question.

"You say you don't, but you must. I can't think of any other reason.." his eyes were like hard bits of ice, locking onto Ryoss'. This time the guard didn't respond. "I could've sworn that I said, 'take Seraphim. Leave her sisters. Yet here I find you....with Seraphim's sister. Am I wrong here? Tell me Ryoss."

The subject behind him...the sister...watched the two of them with watchful eyes. Behind him, Hunter had almost the exact same gaze.

"No...you're not wrong." The guard's head lowered, breaking eye contact.

"Keep them separate, Ryoss. One and one and one. Once you're done here, hurry up with the others. We're on a schedule here," he punctuated this statement by tapping his watch with Gospel. "If you can't handle this, I'll get one of the others to fill in for you. You know how efficient they can be." The image of the three guards exiting down the hall holding an inmate filled his mind...as he knew it must have filled Ryoss'.

Without another word, he walked on. There were still others to see.

Darkmaster Kagemusha
12th July 2006, 09:52 PM
Dr. Emma Lathe
Once Seige had left, I growled--quite an accomplishment for someone who has trained their voice to be smooth. Stepping outside, I saw that he was still within earshot, and yelled after him "You have to be evaluated too, Seige, remember that." As Head Psychologist, I was allowed to take any staff member off duty, except in cases of emergency, for an evaluation. Unfortunately, I didn't have the sheets for Seige, or the scientist and guards who had taken Lost. "I'd shoot him if it would make him die," I whispered once I was sure he had left, and looked over to Arsenal and sighed again. God I was sick of sighing, but damnit, they kept giving me reasons to. Now they had dragged Lost off to some lab, Cameron was getting exercise, supposedly, and Cross remained locked up tight. I didn't like this separation--it was just as bad for the three girls as it was for any hope of revolt. "Well, Arsenal, now what do you propose we do? And might I suggest something subtle..." I said, cooly, though in truth I was becoming rather agitated that it was becoming impossible for me to do anything without being interrupted.

12th July 2006, 10:06 PM
Spectre slowly ate away at Poltergiest's food while she did the same with his. He knew that if he managed to keep her off the drugs long enough, she'd soon be able to slip in and out of the cells without tiring herself out. He needed that, especially if the first part of his plan ws going to work.

"Man, you look like hell Spectre"

Spectre and Poltergiest looked to see Scarecrow and Nosferatu walking towards them.

Scarecrow was tall wiht a very skinny build. He wore a white shirt, torn jeans and an old, torn up brown coat. Partos of it stuck up in all directions, almost resembling straw. His shaggy, blonde, straw like hair added to the look, making him look even more like a scarecrow, hence his nickname. His eyes were a dull green and his hands were bandaged up, due to a rather nasty experiment.

Nosferatu was huge, standing at a towering 6'4'' with a pretty bulky build. He had a dark tan and his raven black fell over his gray eyes. He was wearing a black sweat top, a gray jacket and black pants. At first, Scarecrow and Spectre called him Nosferatu mainly because it sounded cool. But then it made a bit of sense, Nosferatu were supposed to be powerful and almost unstopable, kinda like their friend. Also, he never seemed to sleep. The guy would sit awake in his cell all night.

"Hey guys," Spectre groaned as his two friends sat down with them. Scarecrow looked down at their food and then smirked at the two.

"Closest thing you can get to a date here huh?" he joked. Poltergiest and Spectre glared at him he laughed. Even Nosferatu chuckled slightly.

"I'm in no mood for this," Spectre groaned, clutching his head. Nosferatu and Scarecrow's chuckles quickly went silent.

"What's wrong dude?" Scarecrow asked.

"They went a bit overboard with the drugs," Spectre groaned. The two shook their heads.

"Then sooner we get outta here, the better."

12th July 2006, 10:08 PM
Woohoo... Exercise time ^_^


Looking down at his already bloodied fists, John heard rustling outside and the carrying away of Lost. She yelled something about hating the guards, and she was carried off. John had already heard about Lost, supposedly, she was a total mental case, most of the time. John took a extreme disliking to insane people, although he was slowly becoming one himself. He hated the thought of becoming insane. He had always looked down on people below him. But now, he was on the bottom of the food chain, the lowest lifeform on the planet. How could he have allowed himself to succumb to this? How?

He was still clutching his fist as Siege walked by. He started to walk over to his cell door when he heard the Doctor call after Siege, and he didn't even take a glance behind him. What was that Doctors name again? Dr. Something Lathe, wasn't it? All he could remember was that he was supposedly the head doctor here. She could do evaluations on anyone in the whole damn asylum, but it seemed that so far that all she had concentrated on was The Terrific Trio- Lost, Cross, and Seraphim. It seemed as if there was always a guard or doctor or someone near their cells.

Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Siege mutter something to two of the guards here, and they continued to walk towards my cell. I put my head down so that the guards couldn't see my eyes, and I heard the unlocking of my door.

Finally, it was time to get out of this damned cell.

"Alright Torch, time for your exercise. What will it be today, a nice boot, some drugs, or will you come nice and easy with us?" The tallest one added. He was tall, but not as tall as the first guard he had killed, Mr. Wright. Maybe around 6"4, just a little bit smaller then him.

"I'd go willingly, but knowing you assholes, I'm going to get the boot anyway," John muttered, just so the guards could hear.

The guard in his cell smiled. "Seems that you've caught on," He said, and kicked John hard in the stomach. He felt himself being raised up, and carried down the hallway. He spit a bit of blood onto the ground, and continued to walk down to where he would be supposedly "exercising".

Crystal Tears
12th July 2006, 10:58 PM
[font=Arial Narrow]+Cross+
Deranged Poem with a Meaning

“But…” Cross whispered, stepping up to the bars and gazing out as her family was taken away. “I want to play…” Tears welled in her eyes as they both went separate directions. “This…” She looked at the floor, grinding her teeth together in anger. “Isn’t fair…”

’We’ll all fly together’

Cross’s hands clenched around a single pole, she had longed to prove she was stronger then anyone thought. And now, she had the chance, even with a guard, and Doctor Someone or another close by. She wanted out of her cage, and wanted to fly.
Most of all she wanted to be near her sisters…

Tighter and tighter her hands clenched on the iron bar, they had successfully held her there before. As she had been to out of it to even think. But now she was angry, it seemed the only time she could truly focus on a goal was if she was fuming at someone of something.
She softly tugged on the bar, when nothing changed, she only pulled hard. A loud groan emitted from her cage as the bar slowly bent.

“A dent… A dent in an iron boat doesn’t make it sink…” She hissed, biting her lip so hard that blood soon dripped leaked from the fresh wound. “Something needs to pierce it…”

Laughter erupted from the tormented girl as she went together her iron framed bed. Tears streaming from her eyes, she swung it clear off the ground and slammed it into the bars. Loud clangs and bangs sounded off into the hallway as soon the bed toppled and ended up upside down on the floor.
Defeated, Cross collapsed, digging her nails into her wrists, biting the inside of her cheeks, and whamming the back of her skull into the concrete wall, all the while laughing hysterically at herself as she repeated a deranged poem over and over again…

“Bars will bend, doors will break, the chip will snap, for little Sakura’s sake.” She giggled, slamming her head once more. “For when the walls collapse and fall, little Gemini will wake…” Shrugged to herself she sung the last verse. “Then the guardian will arise, and the girl hiding in her shell will take the prize!”

Over and over and over again…

12th July 2006, 11:27 PM
MMMmmmm A staff LSU. Hope you don't mind MC :)

Name: Damon Castle (He's back....)

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Subject or staff: Staff

Appearance: Damon stands in at about 6'3", and is somewhat muscled, though he does not work out alot. He is somewhat tanned, but being inside of a asylum for a while will slowly turn your skin to a not so tan color. He has slightly dirty blonde hair, though his natural hair color is blown. He has emerald green eyes, and has a cleanly shaven face :). For better detail, think a younger Matt Damon. Wears the standard PG uniform.

Personality: He is one of the people on the "good" side of the staff. Generally, he treats the subject well, but, if Siege happens to pass by, He will "pretend" to be harsher on the subjects. He wants to help all of the inmates escape as best as he can, but he is afraid that if Siege finds out that something very bad is going to happen to him.

Weapon: FN Five-seveN Pistol, with another heavy firearm in his locker in-case he needs to use it. Always caries the Five-seveN with him, other then when not instructed to.

History: Damon Castle has a long history. It started out when he was 18 years old. He was at home one day, when all of the sudden, three men came to his door and instructed him to bring his father out to them, and that he needed to be brought to some kind of asylum. At first, Damon refused to let them, but the three men broke into his house and took his father. Being alone in the house now, seeing as his mother had died when he was young, He decided to join the Marine Corp to fill his empty void. He became a sharpshooter for the 2nd Infantry Division, but when he was about to deploy to Iraq, he had second thoughts. Damon went AWOL and hid for 60 days, until finally coming out and being arrested. He was then dishonorably discharged from the Marines and told to find a job somewhere else when he was released from military prison. Seeing as he had nowhere else to go, he went to work at the Asylum so he could find his father. When he got there, it turned out that his father had died while he was in prison, and this angered Damon. He promised himself that he would try and get all of the inmates out of here someday.

Relations: none, other then to all the guards. Unless someone wants to?...

Other: Damon's a very good shot ;)

12th July 2006, 11:39 PM

Arsenal watched morosely as Lost was lead away. Ignoring Seige, the brute was secondary at this moment, he lost himself in thought. His musings were broken however by Dr. Lathe's comment. Pulling the hood of his cloak up over his head, letting its folds obscure his eyes from the doctor's, Arsenal spoke, "Things are going to change around here soon. We need these subjects for the betterment of humanity....and they need us to protect them from those who would not accept them. We need a shattered cage about as much as we need a locked one now. I would suggest that you lay low for a while and, if you value your life, don't get in my way."

Arsenal began to walk down the cell block, moving back towards the room he had vacated only minutes before. He had only traveled a few reverberating steps however before Ares let out a plaintive cry. Stopping, Arsenal muttered softly, "Are you sure?"

Ares simply stared at his master from his perch on the walking weapon's shoulder. Sighing, Arsenal turned back to the Doctor, "Or...you know these subjects better than anyone else maybe, you're in their heads the most at least. You're also not on The List...if you know any other "birdies" who might want a bit more freedom and safety to stretch their wings...you know where to find me."

With that Arsenal turned and left, he had preparations to complete before he began his work. Blood would wash Ashford Asylum of its sins, and reveal a shining surface underneath the filth that caked its walls.

(OOC: Hey, give the poor guy a break. It's not his fault he's not educated in "Insanese". Besides, it's cute to watch the big guy look awkward in front of Lost)

12th July 2006, 11:52 PM

~Isn't this the one where in the end the good guys fry? Didn't I see this movie and didn't I cry?~

The gym was starting to fill and Ryoss hadn't returned with Cross, which meant he'd probably been caught in the act, probably by Seige or some other rotten individual. Poor kid, I hoped he didn't get into much trouble. A boy like that wouldn't get involved in an operation like this unless he had a good reason, and I'd hate for him to get let go.

There was also the little matter of not knowing what being "let go" in a place like this entailed. They had no qualms about killing us so I often had to stop and wonder how they felt about killing a staff member who started to show that they were more trouble than they were worth...

I hoped for Ryoss's sake that they didn't go that far.

I walked around the track, my arms folded behind my head, listening to the steady clip-clop noises the high heels of my white boots made on the hardwood flooring. There was mostly silence from my fellow subjects as they mulled about in their own ways, occasionally chatting with each other, if one could really call it as casual as that.

The air was tense, and not the normal fearful tension that one found in the cell block. No, this was like the tension right before a huge storm.

Something was brewing and, for once, it wasn't them at the cauldron. No, no, no... It was us. My gaze fell upon the ones called Nosferatu, Spectre, Scarecrow, and Poltergiest who had settled in one corner of the gym and were talking discreetly. Surprise, surprise... I figured if there would be a plot that was likely to work being concocted, it would probably be by them.

I heard the sounds of footsteps behind me, and I smiled wryly, closing my eyes a little in bemusement.

"Good day, Doctor," I said without turning around, knowing exactly who had fallen into step behind me. "Shouldn't you being enjoying your lunch? I hear they're serving roast beef in the cafeteria today."

"To be perfectly honest, recent goings-on have made me lose my appetite," Emma muttered. "How are you today, Cameron?"

I turned around without losing a step and continued walking backwards. "Better than usual, I suppose. How did your sessions with Cross and Lost go today?"

"You tell me," Emma smirked. "You were watching so intently."

"Watching, not listening," I wagged a finger.

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions, Cameron?" Emma asked. I noted that she had her clipboard with her and I raised an eyebrow.

"Here? Now?"

"Well, I'm afraid the cell block is only a breeding ground for more interruption," she muttered. Her eyes glancing towards the door. "Though I assume Seige will lay claim over this place too and once again chase me off, but I suppose now is as good a time as ever. It won't take long, I promise."

I shrugged. "Shoot."

She pointed to my bracelets. "I want to know about those."

I froze and Emma stopped as well. "My bracelets? But that's not really your field, Doctor. They're related to my powers."

"And your powers are related to your emotions, which are my field."

I sighed. "Well, they're inhibiters, as it were. They keep me from using my powers over the elements."

"Your file says you can only manipulate, not control," Emma said, tapping her clipboard with her pen. "Isn't in excessive to have the bands, especially considering the drugs..."

"My powers are hypersensitive," I cut her off. "It isn't just pure water, fire, earth, and wind that I can manipulate. It's anything similar." I pointed to the flourescent lighting above us. "If I didn't have this band and I got angry, those would explode." I thought for a moment and then continued. "If there's a place with great central air conditioning, and I'm particularly happy, then I can use Wind to its full effect... It's like that."

"Impressive," Emma nodded. She paused and then continuing, her eyes narrowing in thought. "Tell me something...Do you think it's possible that, given a strong enough stimulus, you could get angry enough to snap one of those bracelets?"

I narrowed my eyes at her wryly, a smile playing across my lips. "Why, Doctor... What are you suggesting by that?"

OOC: *Whistles innocently* I felt the need to play off Bulba's post a little. ^_^

13th July 2006, 05:00 PM
Yay! Play time! Appareo decet nihil munditia?

Shan Shayna
Shan stood in front of the mirror in his cell, his hands resting on the rim of the sink. Although the drugs had worn off a little more, he still looked like hell. His eyes had an odd glazed look and his posture was rather limp. At least he could speak better.

"Red leather, yellow leather, red leather, yellow leather, rel yeather, yellow yeather..."

Well, he had never been good at tongue twisters. At least his voice wasn't drawling, though the sounds were still slightly muddled.

He tried to ignore the commotion in the hallway, but the yells of one of the other inmates...Lost, he thought, was hard to ignore. And he knew Siege had to be out there somewhere as well. He thought he heard Dr. Lathe calling out to him. He couldn't tell what precisely was going on besides the obvious observation that everyone was more agitated than usual, an understatement, to say the least. When he first came here, they would constantly keep him so drugged that moving seemed too big of a hassle. Now, they allowed the drugs to mostly wear off before giving him more. Today, that should be around 'suppertime.'

Shan hear the scrap of metal against the lock at his door. Looking up, he saw the door swing open. Two guards blocked the entryway. He turned and gave a carefree smile. "Exercise time?" he asked casually.

"Just shut up and get out here," the shorter of the two said. The guards usually left him alone, mostly because they discovered beating up someone who was so high he was numb had very little entertainment value. Sure they could get blood, but where's the fun if there's no reaction? Shan strolled after them, slouching a bit and allowing himself to look worse off than he really was. He had a little of his powers back. Not much, but a little, enough to read the basic emotions of those around him. He could sense the two guards, but there was nothing that special about them: smugness, cruelty, and a bit of nervousness from the tall guard behind him. That one must be new. Shan ignored it.

They eventually got to the large gym that served as the recreation area. Shan walked away from the guards without a word. Not everyone was there yet, it seemed, and the only thing of real interest was a small gathering in one of the corners that consisted of the likes of Poltregeist and Spectre. Shan ignored that as well. If they wanted him over they could invite him. For now, he was content to just watch everyone else. He leaned against one of the walls and slid down to sit crossed legged on the floor. It wasn't until he began feeling pain and underlying seething anger that he realized someone was beside him. He turned to see a man that he'd only noticed from a distance before. As Shan could recall, this black hair man was taller than him and may have been around Shan's age, though it was hard to tell from the worn appearance. His hands were battered and still had blood on them, and there were bruises on some of his exposed skin, like he had been in a fight recently. And lost. Shan found himself clutching his left hand and curling his right as best it could. He didn't know if that was because of the anger or the pain. Shan tried remembering the man's name; he knew he had heard it at some point. Torque? Torte? It definitely began with T-O-R. He knew that. Tor-something was currently staring at Shan with confusion that was probably brought on by a stranger coming to sit down next to him.

"Um, hi," Shan said, raising a hand and giving a weak grin. "I didn't see you there. I'll move, if you want."

Darkmaster Kagemusha
13th July 2006, 05:47 PM
Sorry, this is gonna be short. I work all day, so try to sneak in little posts as often as I can because I don't have the time to think up something big.

Dr. Emma Lathe
I couldn't help but grin at Cameron--the coy-act would work wonders for her if she didn't sound quite as sarcastic. "Well, Cameron, dear," I said, still grinning, "a little birdie just sang in my ear," and I stepped a bit closer to her, resting my hand on her shoulder and looking sympathetic, as though counselling her about something she was sad about, and whispered, "She said the bracelets clip your wings, but I'd like to think they only tie them down. It appears to me that something is brewing...a scientist took Lost and they won't let Cross come out for exercise, for some reason," I sighed, and forced a smile to say, a bit more loudly, "it will be good for you to relieve some stress," and I added, with a wink, "you know, spread your wings." That smile crept back onto Cameron's lips as I turned. I had never been very good at inciting rebellion, so I would let things work their course for now, and do another evaluation--it was Seige's turn.

13th July 2006, 06:05 PM

John continued to walk down with the two guards, until finally they reached a large gym area. He saw many of the inmates were in here, including Spectre, Poltergeist, and one of the trio, Seraphim. Well then, they decided to split the nutjobs up, eh? Atleast he wouldn't have to listen to Lost and Cross' insane ramblings, but then again, he wasn't sure if the third of this trio had gone cuckoo yet.

The guards roughly threw him into the gym, and he slowly stood back up, and slowly limped over to the corner of the room. He slowly slide his back against the wall, and sat down, observing everyone in the gym. It seems as if this is the only place where people are sane,he thought, watching everyone. He heard no insane muttering or screaming, or fits of pain, all he saw were people in this asylum being happy, for this time of day. He almost smiled, but he bit his lip before his could, and continued to look around.

It seemed from that a few seconds later, from what seemed out of nowhere, someone spoke to him.

"Uh,hi," The person said, and John looked up. It was a man, about 6'2', with long black hair. He gave a weak grin and then said, " I didn't see you there. I'll move if you want," He seemed nervous, yet at the same time, somewhat angry.

"It's alright kid. You don't have to move. But just to warn you, I have a bit of a... fiery temper, you could say," He didn't really feel like talking, but yet, he hadn't talked to another inmate yet, so it felt good somewhat to get to know someone.

There was a pause for a moment, which neither of them spoke. John, seeing as the man was not going to say anything, added, "Name's John, but most of the guards here call me Torch. Guess it's somewhat of a fitting name, though I'd definately prefer my real name to some fake name." He paused for a few seconds, then said, " You got a name kid?"

13th July 2006, 06:09 PM

~Dancing through life, mindless and careless, make sure you're where less worry is rife~

I watched Emma go for a few moments in stunned (yet smirking) silence and then I laughed, the sound echoing off the walls in the large room.

"Easy for you to say, Doctor," I said under my breath.

But I couldn't help but smile. It was a preposterous idea. I'd been angry many times in this place, and I don't think anything could make me angrier than I had been those times. If that didn't warrant snapping the bracelets, then nothing could.

I sighed. It was a quaint like fairy tale to ponder, however, but I couldn't but wonder how the good doctor got in into her head in the first place.

"A little birdie just sang in my ear..."

Lost. Of course. Lost knew more than she might let on about my powers and the bands. After all, we had met in an experiment in comparing the difference between her unfocused emotional energies and my controlled powers. She was there when they put the bands on me.

She knew there was no way in hell, I could snap these on my own, though. She knows how hard I've tried to get angry enough to do just that... There's some smidge of sanity left within her that retains and stores that sort of information and pulls it out again when the time is right. At least... That's what I believe.

What sort of song did the birdie sing, I wonder?

I laughed again. "And so, perhaps, it is the sparrow who begins the hurricaine, rather than becoming lost in one."

Careful, Cammie, that's the sort of phrase that'll make people wonder about your sanity.

I wasn't certain I cared at the moment, however.

13th July 2006, 06:58 PM
OOC: Thanks to CT for her part in the creation of this post.


I cursed silently. My attempt to bring Cross the slightest tinge of happiness in this shit hole had been thwarted by the appearance of Siege. I was convinced he suspected my intentions and I could give him no reason to suspect me. It would be far too dangerous at this point. So I left. I closed up Cross' cell and I disappeared down the corridor with the sounds of her dejected screams fading behind me.

I didn't go far. Just far enough so that Siege would think I was dealing with another patient. I had to lay low for a bit. I couldn't get Cross out of her cell but I wouldn't leave her to suffer alone in there. I waited until Siege took Hunter to survey the 'excersise' period. Then I slipped back to Cross' cell unnoticed.

“Bars will bend, doors will break, the chip will snap, for little Sakura’s sake. For when the walls collapse and fall, little Gemini will wake...Then the guardian will arise, and the girl hiding in her shell will take the prize!” The eerie song echoed down the hallway, broken only by the slamming of something solid against hard steel.

I threw the door open and rushed inside, catching Cross' head before she had the chance to slam it against the wall again. I noticed the bed was upside on a different part of the room but I had no idea why. It was the least of my worries. Carefully, I took her nail from her wrist and wrapped it tightly with a clean bandage from my pocket. All the while she continued to sing.

A trickle of blood slid down her chin and I wiped it away gently. "I thought we talked about this...you can't keep hurting yourself Cross, nothing good will come of it."

“Bars will bend, doors will break, the chip will snap, for little Sakura’s sake..."

I took her head in my hands and tried despaerately to meet her gaze. "What does it mean?"

A twisted smile crept across her face. "You lose," she squealed joyfully, in that sing-song voice that I always found so unnerving.

"I lose? What does that mean? Cross? What do I lose?"

"You lose. Lose. Lose...LOSE!"

"I don't understand," I could hear the panic in my own voice. "I don't understand what you're saying Cross."

She giggled again, her voice reverting back to its inhuman sing-song voice. "They'll die at the hands of Cross!"

I lifted her chin gently, searching her eyes for answers but finding none. I'd never heard her talk like this before and it was starting to creep me out. "Who? Who's going to die Cross?"

She laughed again and yanked her head from my hands only to smash it into the wall again. Panicing, I leant forward and pulled her towards me, hugging her head into my chest. "Stop it. Hurting yourself isn't go to solve anything so just stop it."

She said something then, something that made my blood run cold. But it wasn't what she said, it was how she said it. "I can see you..." Her voice was gone, replaced by the twisted demonic one. Silence fell between us for a moment. Then hell paid a visit. Insane laughter poured forth from her lips she pulled away from me suddenly. The laughter continued as tears poured down her face in heavy streams.

"Cross? What's the matter? What's wrong?"

"It can see you, as clear as day...Staring through my eyes at you..." Her laughter faded into deep growls. My eyes widened as her foot slammed into my gut, sending me sprawling backwards. I cringed in pain as my back connected with the leg of her overturned bed.

"What do you mean? What's 'it'?" I asked, desperately trying to get to my feet.

I watched her eyes shift to an unnatural emerald green. Odd-shaped and slightly slitted - like a cat's. But as soon as they shifted they returned to normal and she just sat there laughing at me as if it had never happened.

I stood up and wlaked over to her, knealing before her and playing with her hair playfully. "You had me worried for a minute there."

She just sat there giggling like a small child.

"You didn't eat again, did you?"

Cross stared over in the direction of the untouched glob of food. I knew she wasn't looking at it, just gazing in a general direction. I didn't blame her for not touching the crap. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the one piece of food I had managed to protect from Siege. A strawberry.

As I held it in front of her her eyes seemed to widen and an adorable grin crossed her face. I held it forward so that she could bite into it and watched as the juice trickled down her chin. I wiped it away with my thumb and handed her the rest of the strawberry whilst I licked off the excess juice.

"Do you like it?"

13th July 2006, 07:05 PM

.: Lost | F :.

“Okay Zia… sit still.” The scientist said with an aggravated look, but Zia refused to listen. Closing her eyes she began to scream as she pounded the guard’s arm who held her.
“Zia no listen! Zia wants none!” She screamed, biting her lip harshly as she continued to kick and whirl her arms about wildly. Frustrated, the scientist turned away and looked at the other guards.
“How did the other doctor get results from her?”
“He usually made her upset… but usually she doesn’t respond this way.” The guard spoke quietly, causing the scientist to whirl around in frustration.
“You stupid little insect!” The man roared, suddenly pushing the guard away from her. Taking the back of his hand, he smacked her right across the face. This action caused Zia to tip towards her right, but her screaming did not stop. Another slap came from the other side from the front of his hand, leaving a nice red hand mark upon her face. Still, Zia did not stop screaming.
“You’re upset… you’re angry… but where is your power?” The man yelled, but Zia drowned out his yelling with her persistant high-pitched scream. Finally out of frustration, the scientist grabbed her body and lifted her up like a rag doll. In rage he threw her against one of the walls, causing her body to instantly bounce back and crumple upon the floor.
“You won’t fight back…” The scientist said under his breath. “All I want is to do a few tests Zia… just a few. I need to pass that other Doctor upon his research… I need to beat him at his game. If he keep seeing your power and continues to succeed in the others… then I’m going to lose my job. I’ll lose my research? Do you understand? Do you?!” The scientist screamed, taking his foot and kicking Zia in the side as soon as she tried to rise to her own feet. Zia’s eyes closed as she crumpled to the floor, coughing slightly so that a bit of blood trickled down her lips. She made no move however… and there seemed to be no sign of any of her powers. Silence filled the air until suddenly the scientist seemed to almost scream himself.
“God damn it all! You stupid, stupid vile creature!” He said, kicking her repeatedly until Zia began to cry out in whimper-like cries of pain. Eventually Zia was screaming again, but this time it was from the inevitable pain that over swept her. She could feel her bones groaning from each kick and her organs being horribly attacks as she felt herself heave. Vomit covered the floor as she felt her insides suddenly churn as tears streamed down her face.
Blood trickled down her lips as her entire abdomen seemed covered in instant bruises and skinned marks. The scientist stopped for a second, breathing heavily to catch his own breath when suddenly Zia sat herself up. Tears streamed down her face as she began to sob, but her eyes stared directly at the scientist with a different look. It wasn’t anger… rage… or even sadness.
“Zia… hurts… so much… pain… pain… fear… birdie fears…” She began chanting, clutching her abdomen as her body began to shake all over. The scientist seemed even more enraged by this- not wanting to see her weakened, but rather wanting to see some sort of rage… some power.
“pain… hurts… fears… birdies fall… pain…” Zia kept repeating, even when he began to wail upon her again. She gave out random cries of pain and painful screams that could have pierced the thickest walls, but between each scream she continued to repeat those words.

The guards watched… almost horrified by this act. However, one of the guards noticed a certain haze in the air… it was as if the white room was oddly consumed with a strange mist. The air had grown quite heavy, and with each breath the guard noticed that it seemed more difficult for his lungs to breath. Suddenly, the guard’s snapped her eyes forward to see the scientist gasping for breath. He violently began to cough, turning his head and coughing so violently that suddenly pieces of inner flesh and blood spurted out of his mouth. He let out a scream as he grasped his throat, continuing to cough and seemingly unable to gain his breath back. He let out another scream and suddenly collapsed onto the floor, his body convulsing wildly as blood poured from his mouth. The haze was thickening and coming from the ceiling almost… or at least it lingered there, slowly traveling to fill the room. The guards felt their lungs tightening and panicked at the horrific display of the scientist’s death, they swiftly opened the door and simply ran out. Cries and calls for some one rang down the hallway.
Lost looked up and saw the mist, and slowly she began to crawl towards the door. The opening of the door allowed much of the strangely colored air to escape as she managed to crawl partially through the doorway and then collapse. Turning her head to the right, she saw the Silence and a new strange woman hurrying in her direction. She blinked a few times before suddenly her head slumped over and her bloodied and bruised body went unconscious upon the floor.

[ The weirdly colored mist will rapidly fade away once Siege arrives and will not affect him at all, since Lost is unconscious. Heh… bet you guys can tell what the mist was! Hee! I figure Siege would just drag her back to the cell or what-not... whatever. lol ^_^;]

13th July 2006, 09:37 PM
Here (http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/36268356/) be Shan, or at least as close to him as I can get...Those are the shoes he's currently wearing, I decided.
Pssst, his hair is brown.

Shan Shayna
"Yeah, it's Shan...I don't really have a nickname," he smiled more genuinely, though Shan definitely was having a problem. Granted, actually talking to someone, a peer, felt wonderful. However, John wasn't lying about a temper. Shan was certain it wasn't at full capacity, but it was still there underneath. Shan himself was fairly calm and passive, and normally he'd turn such things as anger and other violent emotions inwards; not the healtiest thing, since that anger would turn into fear and depression, but Shan preferred that to hurting others most of the time. This time...he couldn't bring himself to push the anger away. Maybe it was because it was so different from the sadistic cruelty of the scientists, or because Shan felt like being angry himself. Either way, he'd have to deal with it, so he continued feeling tense and clenching his fists.

"I thought they gave everyone here one," John replied. Cautious puzzlement. Did he notice how tense Shan was? Hopefully, Shan thought, John wouldn't interpret it as aggression.

"Yeah, well, I've never really had a nickname. It'd be weird if I did get one." Was Shan feeling his anger as John felt it, or was it being amplified? Shan could never tell which way my powers worked, but it seemed like John had a great deal of anger and pain. It seemed justified, though. "Where'd they get that one from?" His anger flared a bit. Was that a sore subject? "Ah, sorry, I guess I shouldn't have asked that."

The anger subsided. He still seemed confused, and possibly annoyed. "You're awfully apologetic."

"Well, um...yeah, I suppose I am. I just don't like upsetting other people," Shan groaned inwardly. He was botching this badly. Should he move away so he didn't have to concentrate so much on controlling his/John's anger? No, that would seem like he was avoiding John. There was a slight shake from somewhere, but Shan ignored it. That was...not here. This was. And he was doing very poorly at This. What should he say next? Shan felt a sudden stab of pain flare up. That might be a good beginning, or the beginning of a bad ending. "So, uh, you look like shit. What happened?" Yes, the beginning of a bad ending indeed. If only he could read further into John. Stupid drugs.

Hehe, John and Shan rhyme.

13th July 2006, 10:08 PM
Meh. Brown,black, same thing in my book


"You got a name kid?" I asked, looking over at him. He had somewhat of a nervous yet... somewhat complex look.

"Yeah, it's Shan.... I don't really have a nickname," he smiled after he finished talking, as to put himself off as someone friendly. How the hell could you be friendly in a place like this? But for someone reason, John had a strange feeling... Like this kid, Shan or whatever, was affecting his emotions somehow. He seemed to keep his anger at bay, somewhat to speak, but for some reason, he thought that he was controlling his anger himself. But... Something didn't feel right.

And why the hell didn't he have a nickname? "I thought everyone that came here got a nickname," John replied. He was somewhat puzzled. Was this guy new? Was he actually some sort of staff? John thought about it for a moment, and then Shan replied.

" Yeah, well, I've never really had a nickname. It'd be weird if I did get one." Suddenly, something sparked in his mind. Did he have the power to control emotions or something?

"Where'd they get that one from?" He heard him say, referring to John's name. Suddenly, his temper flared. Who the hell did he think he was? Did he really want to know how god damned tortured he was inside? Did he want to know every gruesome kill he had made? John then bit his lip, and he calmed down a bit. He couldn't of known what he did. He saw that Shan bit his lip after John got angry, he must have some power over emotions.

Yet, he was still confused. Bitterly, he said " You're awfully apologetic,"

"Well, um...Yeah, I suppose I am. I just don't like upsetting other people," He said. John thought he was trying to avoid him somehow now. " So uh, you look like shit. What happened to you?"

John's temper flared up for a second, but then he understood what he was inquiring about. John looked down at himself, and saw on his arms were several burn marks and bruises, and his mouth was covered with blood. I guess he had somewhat of a reason to be concerned.

"Well, lets just say todays been a shitty day. Guards beat the shit out of me, and when they took me in for tests... Well, can we keep this between me and you Shan?" He asked. Killing a man was not a very light subject.

"Umm, yeah, sure. If you want," He said quickly.

"Well... let's just say, when they ran those tests, I turned into my full form... and I killed a guard. Not just killed...murdered. I ripped out his throat, watched his blood poor all over the floor, then I proceeded to gutting him... His stomach burned as I ripped it out. I proceeded to do whatever I could to hurt him. All that was left of him was a boiling..." John then looked down at the floor.

13th July 2006, 11:03 PM
Ah, well, close enough, I suppose. At least it wasn't blonde or something.

Shan Shayna
Shan stayed very still and silent after John finished. Before Dr. Lathe had visited him, he had felt another murder, totaling two. Was this the former or later one? Partly, the stillness was because of what John told him. Shan could comprehend how the scientists could push someone that far, but it was still hard to fully accept for some reason. The other part was, even though John might not know it, along with his memories of that murder came a glimmer of the emotions he had then, even if they were covered with guilt. It was the closest Shan ever got to seeing the emotions of a killer. For John, it was rage, far beyond the quiet temper he held in check. There was probably more, but unless the drugs became weaker or the emotions became stronger, Shan could only feel the steady cresendo of rage, and the irrational instinct that someone must die...

Focus, focus... Shan began breathing a bit deeper and closed his eyes. The rage subsided, and slight concern replaced it. "Are you okay?" John asked. Shan snapped his eyes open.

"Yeah, I'm fine...They must have hurt you a lot," Shan said, hoping to shift attention off himself. "I can't really imagine murdering somebody," Until now, "But the staff here...It's not too hard to believe they'd actually...hurt someone enough for something like that to happen. I wonder why it doesn't happen more often, in fact."

Calm relief. Apparently, Shan thought, he said the right thing. "Maybe it does. It seems the staff turnover is higher than it should be. Maybe more of them are killed than we know." The anger was there, but it was less now. Shan relaxed, not realizing he had to pull his nails out of the skin of his left palm to do so. "By the way, it's Torch because of my power. Pyrokinesis, kinda like that one movie."

"That makes sense." Far more sense than Shan's previous guess of 'Torte.' John wasn't one of those.

"So what is your power anyway? Does it have something to do with emotions?"

Shan should have seen the question coming, and he wasn't sure what he should reply. Very few people, outside of the staff and scientists, knew his power. Hell, he had only told around four people in his entire life. He'd always been cautious about sharing it. Someone might decide to use it as an easy way to hurt him, or be extra cautious and hide their feelings when they were around Shan, not knowing Shan could tell they were trying to mask their emotions. But really, what was the point of hiding it here? Everyone here had problems, either internal or external, and John might become violent, but Shan was sure it would only be toward another violent source, not a neutral party. "Yeah," Shan finally replied. "That's basically it. Emotions. That's pretty perceptive of you to pick that out. Did you overhear it somewhere?"

"No," John said. There was annoyance and pride, probably from Shan's mixed answer. "Just the way you've been acting...Can you control emotions?"

Shan felt like laughing, but he held it in. "Well, no...Have you ever seen Manhunter?"

"No..." John replied. He was confused, but it seemed he'd let Shan say his piece.

"It's an old movie in the same series as Silence of the Lambs. Anyway, it's about this man, a profiler, trying to catch a serial killer. This was before DNA testing and all that, so he had to use a different method, the same one he used to catch another killer, Hannibal. That time, using this method, he actually had to go to a mental institute for awhile. It nearly broke his mind." John was still confused, but at least he seemed interested about where this would lead. "To catch them, he had to figure out the killer's motive, why they did what they did in the past, what they'd do in the future. To do that, he had to see things from the killer's perspective, think like the killer, feel what the killer feels. It worked, but...it almost made him a killer himself, getting that deep into someone else's mind."

A pause stretched out. "So...That's your power? Sense the motives of others?"

"Not really. Just the emotions. I'm an empath. I feel others' emotions."

"That was kind of a roundabout way of saying it." John said, arching an eyebrow.

"I know. That's just the speech I used the other times I told people about my powers, though the motive then was to try and explain that I was doing certain things because my powers suck."

"Like what?"

"Um, nothing really. So, how long have you been here?"

Shan only sucks at conversation because I do.

14th July 2006, 10:53 AM
(Since I've heard no objections, I'll assume Kisanger's alright.)



The girl's face, already covered in a thick layer of perspiration, faded to white, "B-but...I can't go any furthur!"

Dr. Kisanger absently tapped at his console, accumulating the data from the last trial. Muttering at a few missing data points, he turned to gaze at the girl, a faint look of irritation on his face, "You're point? I'm trying to test your limits here D183, don't make me resort to more persuasive methods."

If possible, the girl's face paled even furthut. Averting her gaze from the softly smiling doctor, she focused on the long row of thick plexiglass sheets that stood before her, stretching almost the entire length of the long but narrow testing laboratory. Her hands shaking, her breathing becoming almost frantic, the girl shut her eyes fiercly, concentrating so hard that her tears could barely escape the pressure of her eyelids. Please, Dr. Kisanger turned back to his console. With a few quick strokes he activated the machinery that hung ominously above like the tentacles of some great sea beast. With a whirr, another plexiglass sheet dropped, a foot or two away from the last, adding distance to the obstacle course he had created. Nodding, he gave the girl the command to proceed.

After a few moments of silence, the Doctor turned once again, this time the eyes behind his glasses narrowed in definite anger, "Proceed with the experiment now!"

The girl's eyes clenched tighter, a strained voice emerging from her trembling lips, "Please, please, please, please, please"

For a moment the girl wavered, as if viewed through water, until with a sudden clap caused by the inrush of air into the spot where she had been standing, she vanished. Dr. Kisanger waited for a long moment, the small smile returning to his face. Slowly pushing himself out of his chair, he meandered down the corridor of plexiglass to stand next to the last sheet he had lowered. Smiling down at the girl, whose eyes were now wide with suprise, he spoke, "Excellent, it seems that there indeed is a limit to your ability. I'll have to add some more variables to my genomic equation. Thank you."

Turning, the Doctor exited the room, snapping his hand and gesturing back to indicate to the assistants standing outside that he expected them to restore the lab to its former state. He didn't want to have to step around the girl's pieces the next time he used it. Suddenly he stopped, an idea occuring to him. Turning back he beckoned to one of his assistants and muttered into his ear, "Take the last sheet and see if you can't extract the part of her stuck inside, it might be interseting to study."

Smiling happily, Kisanger continued on his way, he had some very interesting data to start correlating.


Arsenal stood quietly outside the door to a certain David Stevenson's room, mentally checking his list over one last time. Nodding to himself, Stevenson had a low enough value factor to make him the perfect first target, he knocked on the door. Stevenson was known quite well amongst the inmates, his brutal treatment of them stemmed from his own inferiority complex about his position in life and he never missed a chance to make someone lower than him bleed.


The door opened and Stevenson's eyes narrowed, the Asylum's Security Specialist didn't pay visits to Third Class guard very often. Scratching his five o'clock shadow, Stevenson eyed Arsenal, "Whatcha want?"

Arsenal's right hand leapt out, striking the guard in the chest with enough force to blow him off his feet. Stepping inside the room, Arsenal quietly shut the door and looked down at Stevenson who had slid to a stop agianst the foot of his dresser. The man looked more angry than scared, he still hadn't connected the dots, and he fumbled to his feet quick enough. Reddening he yelled at Arsenal, "What the hell?!"

Hell indeed...

Arsenal gave the room a quick glance, his internal computer scanning for any bugs or hidden cameras that might reveal his next action. Finding none, the Asylum generally cared little for its guards when they weren't actively protecting the researchers, the man gave a mock salute to the sputtering guard, "You are relieved of duty Mr. Stevenson"

Stevenson narrowed his eyes in confusion, not understanding even when Arsenal, with a few quicks steps, grabbed the guard's face in his left hand and violently tugged upwards. The head didn't come off, Arsenal didn't like to clean blood up if h e didn't have to, but the force of the pull caused the guard's spine to twist and snap, killing the man instantly and silently. Dropping him to the floor, Arsenal whispered to Ares, "Alea iacta est..."

Fitting I suppose...

(OOC: Bonus points if you get Arsenal's comment to his cat.)

14th July 2006, 12:30 PM
OOC: The die is cast- Julius Caesar. Perhaps because Arsenal has taken an actual step towards his goals?


The guards were dead. The girl was not.

An odd hazy mist hung over the gruesome scene. Hunter sniffed intently, before wrinkling her nose. Her eyes looked disappointed....as if she had just missed something of great excitement. Siege couldn't smell anything strange in the air, but looking at what it had done to the men- that was something to be thankful for. Still, it was puzzling.

Bruises and lumps covered the girl's face. Obviously, those had been inflicted by the guards- or the scientist. He leaned towards the scientist himself- the guards knew the risk of pushing these lunatics too far. Death was uncommon in the asylum, but there was always a reason. Most times, you were asking for it.

From the looks of things, the unfortunate victims had vomited their own intestines up. Definitely not normal. Siege peered up at the fading mist suspiciously. If the girl was capable of killing through the air, then she was a danger to her cellmates as well as her keepers. They would need to find a new cell for her- keep her away from interaction.

He looked down at the subject, his mind thoughtful. Who had she been with, right before this incident? Dr. Lathe...and Arsenal. He had had few encounters with this particular subject, but he did know that it was far and between that her powers went rogue. Yet, after her evaluation...she killed three men. Curious. Speaking to Arsenal about something like this was like speaking to a rock. But Dr. Lathe on the other hand...

"Could be responsible for three deaths. Blood on your hands," Siege said musingly. He leaned forward, picking up the girl and holding her beneath one arm, like a sack of hay. He took a left turn down the corridor, heading towards unused cells, instead of the subject's former place. Regardless of whether or not she had been provoked, she was still a danger. If all of the subjects started coughing and hacking the next time this girl went into one of her little fits...

He tossed her onto one of the cell beds, and locked the door behind him. He would need to speak to the staff about this- not only to warn of the new danger this subject possessed, but of the danger in pushing these lunatics too far. They looked like normal people, but they were so much more. He smiled. They wished they could leave this place....but if something like this ever happened on the outside, they would wish to be back in isolation. The irony was rather obvious here.

He started off towards the lounge, planning his speech in his head.

14th July 2006, 02:22 PM
(OOC: Exactly, one of my more favorite quotes I'd thought I throw in. Glad someone knew it)

22nd July 2006, 12:53 AM
Warning- offensive language. It's an FDQ song, what do you expect?

Kick the shit right out of you, leave you in the rear view

[color=silver]And so, here we were once again... like a bunch of fucking cattle herded out to pasture. How sick I was of this, if nothing else... it was so degrading. I only half listened to Spectre and the other boys chatter... I was more interested in seeing how much trouble I could stir up. I was Poltergeist after all, I needed to maintain my reputation along with my name, or people would forget... and I was afraid that they had anyway. That just wouldn't do...

I looked about the gym area. Torch and Shan were talking, Seraphim was over by herself, and here I was with the undead... Who'd have known, Spectre, Poltergeist, Nosferatu.... It was like we had a little cult going on. Well, why the hell not, it wasn't like there was anything else to do in this hellhole.

"Punch you in the fucking face, it just makes me feel great; and I don't give a goddamn, that's just the way I am!" I cried out, singing and doing a little dance to go with it. It was a song that I knew, but didn't know where I knew it from. It pissed the guards off, anyway, so it would accomplish my goal. "There's nothing left to say, but fuck you anyway; but after tonight, the world's gonna know my name- Then they'll call me Mr. Motherfucker!"

One of the guards moved towards me, apparently intent on removing me from the presence of the others. I waited until he got close enough, and let loose a hell of a roundhouse kick and hit him square in the nose. Blood spurted and sprayed my shoe, his face, and the floor. He fell back flat on his back, howling, and the other guards moved in on me. I managed to land a few more kicks in rather sensitive areas and a punch or two in the face before several of them finally managed to subdue me. Laughing histarically, they dragged me away... probably to see Seige. Ah, my ol' buddy... I looked forward to messing with him with a maliciously sadistic glee...

22nd July 2006, 01:36 AM
The pale haired telekenetic shook his head as the guards dragged Poltergiest off.

I hope they don't mess her up too bad. I need her in top condition tonight.

"So Spectre," Scarecrow whispered,leaning close. Nosferatu leaned close to, interested.

Ok guys, answer me this. What do those gaurds have that we dont?


Yes, but that's not it.


Nosferatu's eyes narrowed at the mention of that name.

That too,but we've got Nosferatu here.

"Then what?"



Here's what I'm planning. When Poltergiest has enough strength and can use her phasing abilities easily, we send her out on a little scouting mission to find the armoury, as well as the infirmery and canteen, then find the quickest routes to them.

Scarecrow was really interested now.

"Yeah, and then what?"

Well, I'm still thinking about that.

Scarecrow resisted the urge to smack his friend over hte head and a small chuckle escaped Nosferatu's lips.

At that moment, a small squad of armed guards came in.

"Alright kids," one of them ordered, "Back in your cages."

22nd July 2006, 02:40 AM
I aim to misbehave.

They keep me locked up in this cage. Can't they see it's why my brain says "Rage"?....

Shan Shayna
"Alright kids," a large armored man with a small squad ordered, "Back in your cages."

The two looked at the guards. Shan looked a John. John looked at Shan. Somehow, without a word, the same general idea came to mind: Make us. John was sick of the guards constantly beating of him and being looked upon as just another guinea pig. Shan was sick of it in general. The guard was right, they were cages. 'Cells' was too nice a term. They were just cages for their lab rats. The guards spread out to enforce their mandate, being more caution because of the violent behavior of Poltregeist. One approached the wall where John and Shan were sitting. Both stood without a word. John, though he was angry enough, held himself in check, waiting for the right moment. Shan didn't.

Shan quietly pulled back his left arm, then smashed the fist into the guards mouth, not hard enough to dislodge anything, but enough that teeth were loose. While the guard stumbled back, stunned, Shan kicked the man in the chest. The foot hit armor, but with its force and the guard's already shaky balance, he toppled backwards onto his back. Before he could stand, Shan had crossed over to his head and stomped down, hard, onto the man's face, crunching bone. The bottled-up internal agression Shan had been supressing and hurting himself with erupted. John's anger was even greater. Combining the two was more than John could handle safely. Or wanted to. Shan had to smile through his glare. He really wanted to fight.

The other guards immediately turned at the sound of armor hitting the ground. Shan didn't care. He was so angry it was euphoric, blocking out the fear and the pain of everyone around him. There was only sweet, sweet anger and the focus on his opponents' moves.

"I'm guessing you want some. Right, you ball-sucking pillowbiters? Well guess what, dumbshits, I'm not doing anything but giving asskickings. If you're so fucking keen on giving the scientist something to slip under a microscope, why don't you asshats donate your fuckin' dicks? They're fuckin' small enough."

"Do you really think you should have done that?" John asked, now wondering about Shan's sanity, which he had so hoped was intact.

"No," Shan replied, still scowling with a smile. "No, I really shouldn't have."

Um...Shan can be verbose when he's mad, and he's mad, and he's going to stay mad as long as he can. He hasn't been in a while, after all.

22nd July 2006, 01:10 PM

.: Lost | F :.

Lost's eyes slowly opened as she saw the dark room around her. She was laying flat upon her back, her face to the ceiling as it didn't take a single ounce of movement for her to realize that she was not in her normal room. Rising up to sitting position, Lost looked about the room. The bed location was the same... the walls seemed to be the same... the bars even were the same. But everything was different.

Lost rose to her feet and swiftly pressed her face to the outside bars, wildly looking around to see no one was near her. There were none of her sisters... no Loki next to her... not even the comforting voice of the ones she couldn't see. She was alone... some how she had been seperated from the others and now she was utterly alone.

A small whimper seemed to emit from Lost's inner self as she pressed her back to one of the walls and hugged her knees tightly. She was feeling afraid and alone now... and she wanted nothing but to be back with her sisters. The room began to grow heavy along with a few parts of the hallway as dew began to form and the heavy, water-filled mist began to emerge.
"Lost has no kingdom... Lost has no flock... Lost has only the darkness..."
Then she began to cry.



Hunter had sat idly by Siege as he worked on some thing that did not bother her. She was more impatient... she had smelled death and blood and it had arroused her need to lash outwards. To do some thing of importance rather than idly waiting... although she could wait for however long if possible. Then of course, some thing came to Hunter's senses. Two distinct yet very familiar smells.
Blood... but two different causes, two different scents intermixed with the blood.

It didn't take long for a guard to come rushing in to Siege's office.
"Siege! Poltergiest... she's been acting up so we're bringing her to you so you can calm her down. However... two others are also causing a bit of havoc for the guards."
Siege rose to his feet and seemed to contemplate for a moment.
"Bring Poltergiest to me, I'll handle her. However... as for the other two... make sure you have the tranqs ready to use on them and go ahead and do it. However... I'll send an insentive for them to settle down." With that, Siege looked to Hunter and gave a nod.

Her keen eyes already sparkled with understanding as within a split moment, she had taken off. Her speed was unrivaled by any and she had made it to the gym-like scene before anyone could have really comprehended where she had gone off to. There she was too... before the two figures. One seemed a bit confused while the other was directly angry and focusing on anything that he could. He was swearing his head off like mad and his whole body trembled with anger. However, the words and the emotions that he felt... they did not daunt Hunter. She could not comprehend half of what he was saying to begin with- her need and her desire to do her business was far greater and of far more importance to her.

Three more guards walked into the gym and began to run towards their direction but Hunter was already in motion.

She saw Shan suddenly aim a kick at another guard (he had already done some damage to two guards), but within a split second suddenly he felt a sharp splitting pain within his leg as Hunter sank her teeth into his flesh. His kick still hit his target out of sheer anger, but he staggered his foot down. Taking his fist he went to hit Hunter upon any part that he could, but she swiftly released her grip and within less than a second she was out of range. It was Shan who was enraged... and it seemed that before the other one (John) could join in the fun, he was down. The guards who had rejoined had tranquilized him twice over it seemed... and he was collapsed upon the ground. They probably didn't want him acting upon his rage to join with Shan. This act however, seemed to make Shan either angrier or perhaps more in a frenzy.

Shan began to charge at the guards once more, but before he reached them Hunter swiftly appeared there. Her startling wolfish gaze pierced straight into his sight and he tried to aim a punch at her. This time however, Hunter took his punch upon the top of one of her shoulders. Well... she didn't really take the punch, but rather she forced herself into it. She had jumped into his punch and while he did manage to make contact with her shoulder, her force caushed her body to smash into his and send him sprawling back. She let loose a growl as she practically prowled closer to him... narrowing her eyes as she snarled. He may have managed to try to kick or punch her... but she avoided anything she wanted too. That was her strength... her beautiful yet dangerous strength- speed. Her power might have not rivaled many... and perhaps it was less strong as Shan's, but one had to hit her before their power could be displayed.

Shan swore a few more times... still enraged, but by the time he managed to notice- he had been hit with at least four tranquilizers. The adrenaline that had run through his veigns caused him not to notice... until slowly, but surely, they began taking affect and he slowly began to comprehend what was happening.
Hunter watched him for a moment, before she deemed that the guards could handle him and slowly she walked back towards where Siege was located.

[ Sowwy Shizo, it was time for Hunter to make her strengths known. ]

22nd July 2006, 03:24 PM
Eh, I didn't expect it to last long, anyway. At least I gave an opportunity for Hunter to show off.

Plus, it's fun going angry-crazy. Theme for this and my previous post is "Bottom of a Bottle" by Smile Empty Soul.

Shan Shayna
"C'mon, assclowns! Which one of you motherfuckers is next?" Shan yelled, knocking down another guard. John was fighting as well, but not with the psychotic enthusiasm Shan had. Shan, of course, was channeling not only his aggression, but that of John and the guards, creating Wrath Incarnate. His movements were slow - the drugs hadn't worn off - but he was used to fighting with his reflexes impaired. His empathy also allowed him to sense his enemy's focus, giving him an idea when and where they'd attack, making up for the delay. Everything else was driven from his mind. Fear and pain, both his own and others, were hardly noticed.

Shan got within range of another guard and let fly a kick. It connected, but a sharp pain pierced through his numbness as he looked down to see a black haired woman that reminded Shan more of a cat than a human. A large cat, like a tiger. Setting his foot back down, both from the pain and to get a better stance, he lashed out with his left fist again. She released and moved out of range before he could hit her.

"Fuckin' fast..." Shan said under his breath, now focusing on the tiger-lady. There was no real rage in her besides a cool predatory air. No anger to draw on, but her action was more than enough to fuel Shan's natural temper. "You fuckin' bit me, you cunt! What fuckin' zoo did you escape from?!" Then, John's emotions vanished. Shan only turned enough to see John collapse, unconsious, from the corner of his eye. If Shan was holding anything back before, all restraints were removed with the fall of the only other person besides Dr. Lathe he'd had an actual conversation with in this hellhole.

Shan charged at the men who had tranquilized John, forgetting entirely about Tiger-lady, but was quickly reminded of her when she intercepted him. Her yellow, wolfish eyes stabbed him with their animalistic menace. Shan didn't pause, and he tried to punch her again. It struck the cat's shoulder, but she had chosen that moment to pounce at him, and the force of her body slamming into him sent him flying to the floor. He raised himself quickly into a crouch, his face contorted with hatred, all the euphoric pleasure of the fight gone. She slowly stalked across the floor, her lithe body twisting with the movements.

"So, now it's cat and mouse, hoebag?" Shan said loudly. "How long can you fuckin' dodge me? You can't keep up forever, and no matter how fuckin' fast you are, you're gonna get shit-tired long before me!" That, Shan knew, was a complete lie. The knuckles of his left hand were split and bloody, and there were fractures crisscrossing the bones. He couldn't even make a fist with his right hand, and his feet and legs were taking a toll from constantly striking heavy armor. Anger pushed all that aside. He leapt at her, imitating her pounce. She moved aside, and he rolled on the floor before rising back to his feet. There were no more tactics, no attempt to plan his movements. He just struck out as often and as hard as he could, cursing madly, missing each and every time as she got faster and faster.

It suddenly struck Shan that he was the one slowing down. He still attacked, but he was no longer able to sense her movements. The external anger began to fade, and he was moving far too slow to even have hope of touching the tiger-woman. He gave a final kick, stood ready to fight, and collapsed to his hands and knees. The emotions, both his own and everyone else’s, were gone. There was only the strain of his body and the heaviness the sedatives forced into each limb. He didn't notice the woman turn and saunter away. He didn't see the guards approaching him. There was only the grayness of the cement floor and his broken hands.

Stupid, his logical mind was now able to say. Stupid, stupid, STUPID! They didn't know you could do that! They didn't know that's what you really look like fighting! Now they have one more thing to 'test.' Idiot! And what about John? Just because you want to blow off some steam you drag him into your inane fight? Idiot! He felt himself swaying as he was lifted roughly by the arms. His eyes couldn't focus on anything. If you're so keen on sharing, why don't you tell then about you're dad while you're at it? he continued to internally berate himself. Shan's thoughts flew apart, and he finally slipped fully into unconsciousness.

And so ends the crazy. 'Twas fun while it lasted.

Hey, I did this entire thing without saying 'bitch'! I managed to avoid the most commonly used female insult. Whoohoo!

22nd July 2006, 06:51 PM

~Didn't I see this movie on the late, late show one night with a doctor and a monster there in grainy black and white?~

So that was Seige's new partner. I had never seen anything like her. Thing being the crucial word there, because she was obviously not human. No human alive could move like that, plus there was just something... Not right about her.

Ryoss was right, she was an animal. I'd have to be careful around her.

I allowed myself to be ushered back to my "cage" as they so humbly referred to it, my eyes falling on the two boys who had orchestrated the rebellion, my heart welling up with sorrow for them. They'd put up a gallant fight at least... That Shan- I think that's his name- was seriously one tough customer, not to mention outspoken enough to give me pause.

I was shoved none-too gently back into the cell and the guard slammed the door with such a force that the loud noise made me wince. Well, there'd been a lot of a chaos and death here lately so it made sense that the guards were a bit on edge. I turned around and moved towards the door, watching guards shuffling the subjects past and shoving them roughly into their cells. I resisted the urge to taunt them. They'd had their moment of embarassing ass-kickery for the day, and I figured they'd do something unpleasant to me if I added to that humiliation. See? I can keep my mouth shut when I want to.

I looked into Cross's cell. She seemed somewhat complacent and was licking something off her fingers. Apparently Ryoss had come and gone and had given her another treat. I smiled warmly.

"Hello, Cross."

"Sister!" She looked up, smiling.

"Were you a good girl?"

Cross's smile became a smirk. "How can we define good? Good is only what makes us feel warm inside. Others cannot define what is good for another person for what is good for one could be bad for another, and yet is still good."

I laughed. "Well, I can't argue with that logic." My eyes drifted over to Lost's cell and I blinked. "Cross, did they take Lost?"

Cross's expression became very grave. "They take Cross's sisters away from her, and don't let her play at all. It's not fair."

I blinked. They hadn't brought Lost to the gym or I would have seen her... Something was wrong. I bit my lip and I could practically feel the color of my eyes shift from dark blue to firey red.

They were doing something to her. I just knew it, and if I ever found out they were hurting her again...

I didn't realize how hard I was squeezing the bars of my cell until I noticed that my knuckles were turning white, nearly blending into the fabric of my fingerless gloves.

OOC: Yay for everyone getting angry at random points! Vweee!

22nd July 2006, 07:21 PM
Arsenal silently watched the feed from the cameras stationed in the subject's recreation area, wathced as the one subject raged out of control only to be dropped with brutal efficiency by Siege's new partner, the one called Hunter.

That one's gonna be tricky.

Arsenal flipped off his computer terminal and stood, muttering to himself, "You're going to get yourself caught if you keep babbling on like that."

Yeah, probably. But you've got in under control this time at least.

A smile flickered on the man's lips, "Maybe, but its helpful to have you around sometimes."

Oh? An actualy show of appreciation? I'm touched.

With sudden intensity, Arsenal left eye began to glow fiercly, the piercing white light landing on Ares who was resting on Arsenal's bed and sending the cat flying to the relative safety of the closet where it peeked out cautiously.


Arsenal gave a mirthless laugh, "There you go, I'll be seeing you around."

Soon I hope, if you've prepared correctly.

Arsenal could feel the voice drifting away slowly, could feel the nanomachines in his blood chasing it back to the very far reaches of his brain where it was locked away once again behind layers of mental coding. Sighing softly at the loss, Arsenal turned to Ares and beckoned the cat from its closet, "Come out little one, you won't have to compete with that voice for a while now."

The tiny feline emerged happily, now that the light from Arsenal's eye was gone, and alighted itself at its normal position on the walking weapon's shoulder. After a few moments it mreowed inquisitivly. Shoving open his door, Arsenal replied, "No, I'm still doing it. The program will kick in when it needs to be done, that'll let me continue until it finds a way free again."

Giving another mreow, this one somewhat satisifed, Ares closed its wide yellow eyes and drifted off to its own dream land of sardines and mice. Arsenal, not satisfied with just dreams anymore, moved off toward the cell block, the subjects were key to his plan of purification, and he needed to continue to learn of them and give them visions of a brighter future at the Asylum.

(OOC: Any subjects who want to interact with Arsenal, feel free to.)

22nd July 2006, 07:40 PM

I had stayed with Cross as long as I dared. With Siege's new pet on the prowl the last thing I wanted was to get caught doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing. I returned Cross' bed back to its orignal state - with some difficulty - before leaving her to enjoy the juicy remains of the strawberry I'd offered her.

At first I considered heading to the 'gym' to check on Cross' sister Cameron but the area seemed to be under heavy attention from much of the staff and I thought better of it. Instead, I chose to do something that one could only consider to be very brave, or incredibly stupid. I turned down one of the rarely used corridors towards the door I'd visted earlier, and the secret Ashford hid behind it.

But I never got that far.

A short way down the corridor I noticed the air was unusually thick and heavy. A watery mist seemed to hover in the air leaving the area unusually humid. I tugged uncomfortably at the collar of my shirt. I knew of one person who would be capable of something like this but...why would she be here? I paced down the corridor until the sound of laboured sobs reached my ears. Coming up to the cell, I found Lost - Zia - sobbing against the wall of cell. Fumbling for my keys, I finally managed to get inside the often unused cell.

"Lost..." I crouched before her and gently brushed away a strand of white blonde hair. She stared at me, her ice-like eyes alight with the pale liquid that slid down her cheeks. "What are you doing all the way down here?"

"Lost doesn't remember...alone...Lost is alone..."

"No..." I told her gently, "no you're not alone. I'm here. See? I'm here."

She shot forward suddenly and I felt her arms tightened about me as her hair brushed my chin. I stayed there silently, slowing coming to terms with how I found myself. I had never known Lost to act this way. I felt like a parent trying to comfort a small child. Right. Like I had any idea how the hell to do that.

"Hey it's ok...You'll be back with your sisters soon...don't cry Lost..." I hated to see Cross or any of her sisters upset and it was obvious that today had been especially cruel to her. "I'll stay with you. I'll protect you. You've suffered enough for today."

25th July 2006, 09:19 PM
Miss me?

Trouble came in threes.

While he was busy picking up after the girl's mess- filing the necessary paperwork that death caused, as if murder could be covered up beneath stacks of paper- a guard burst into his room, looking disheveled and annoyed. Dawson

"Siege! Poltergiest... she's been acting up so we're bringing her to you so you can calm her down. However... two others are also causing a bit of havoc for us."
He stood, thinking things over. Poltergeist was a simple one- all rage and aggression to cover up the 'weakness' below. He would calm her down, alright. It was rather easy to do that. But...other two? One of them might have been the little kid with the cage-kicking problem...he couldn't think of anyone else who would start a ruckus, though.
"Bring Poltergiest to me, I'll handle her. However... as for the other two... make sure you have the tranqs ready to use on them and go ahead and do it. However... I'll send an incentive for them to settle down." With that, Siege looked to Hunter and gave a nod. The girl sped past Dawson and was out of the room within a second. Dawson cursed, half-amazed, half-confused.

"How the hell can anyone move like that? On all fours, I mean?" Dawson asked, his eyes incredulous. Siege shrugged. There was no point in pointless questions that couldn't be answered. How could a piece of machinery attached to a human function? How could a little girl kill three grown men with smoke?

How could people understand...?

Dawson left, and he resumed his work. A few moments later, the subject known as Poltergeist entered, 'escorted' by two guards looking worse for the wear. They frog-marched her into a chair in front of his desk, and she sat glowering. A strange look was in her eyes...it looked like laughter.

"Thank you," Siege said curtly to the men. The guards looked at each other, then exited. Neither of them would want to be in the lunatic's place right now...

"So,"Siege said, looking at Poltergeist. He kept Gospel below the desk, in his lap. He didn't intend to use it, but if she was feeling violent....he would be happy to oblige. "What's wrong, hmm? Someone step on your toes in gym class?"

Crystal Tears
26th July 2006, 12:01 AM
[font=Arial Narrow]Cross


Cross saw her sister, though her eyes seemed different, shifting between cat like and human, rage and fear, rage and fear. She didn't know what to feel, she didn't want to feel.... How could they do this? Her mind was overflowing when anger, she knew what had broken, and it wasn't her.

"Sister." Cross hissed; half her voice, half another. "Sister..."

She turned back to Cross.

"Cross...?" she questioned, but seeing the sick smile on Cross's face must of changed her mind. "Sakura."

"Sister..." Sakura grinned, her fingernails growing long and sharp as she went to the bars and leaned against them. "Have you seen the white cat?"

She blinked, but Sakura pointed down at her feet, and there sat a small White cat, looking up at with curious eyes.

"Gemini, Gemini, spread the word, die, die, die." Sakura laughed, finding it somehow hysterical. Her eyes had settled now, focusing on the green. "They're going to kill me." the girl mused, as the white cat vanished. "A trick of the mind to see something that isn't real."

Sakura was clashing with herself, three voices all fighting for one mind, but somehow, the most insane one had become real, looking at the world that her other self had gotten her into. "Why am I here?" She questioned, with a light tone to her voice. "I haven't done anything wrong, people who hurt have done wrong, justice must be served."

But with the harsh patting of boots on the cold floor, Sakura disappeared, and Cross was left, crumpled in the corner. She trembled, muttering insanities as the footsteps stopped. Looking up, her eyes filled with fear; she focused on the man.

"You have a cat." She smiled weakly, tears still streaming down her face. "What's its name?"

Biting in frustration on her lip, she tried to focus, yet two more voices laughed in her head, laughed at her pain, suffering, and ill attempts to be normal, to be herself once again.

26th July 2006, 10:50 AM
Arsenal gazed down at Cross, crumpled in the corner. He had heard her muffled ramblings, not clear enough to hear her words unfortunately. Seeing the tears and shaky smile, Arsenal molded his own face into one of understanding, "His name is Ares."

Hearing his name, the tin cat's eyes lazily opened, wondering if perhaps feeding time had come early. Seeing instead a crying girl, the cat shifted its gaze to Arsenal, seeming to ask what he had done to the poor subject. Seeing Arsenal's shrug, Ares contented himself with leaping from the man's shoulders to Cross' lap, gazing up at her with his wide eyes and offering a questioning mreow. Arsenal smiled, "He wants to know why you're crying...and if there's anything he can do to help it stop."

Arsenal paused a moment before lowering himself to a sitting position across from Cross, his left eye glowing softly, "And I would ask the same questions..."


Dr. Kisanger stopped abruptly as he realized the room he had just entered was occupied. Smoothing his rumpled lab coat, he adjusted his glasses before speaking, "Well this is...intriguing

(OOC: Just a teaser for what he found (that and limited time >_>))

26th July 2006, 02:57 PM
OOC:Wow. I have had no time whatsoever. Well, now I do.

Setzer Maringber-5th
Same old cell again. I was nearly sleeping, and immensely tired. I could hear Arsenal nearby. Being here for two years means you start to know everybody. Even the guards. I wanted to talk to somebody, but I couldn't. So...tired. They kicked a good 13 hours off my sleep time with that little "experiment". I could barely even raise my arm, not even open my eyes.
When I sleep, my mind slows down. That's how they keep me under control. If I'm awake, my mind is constantly throwing ideas at me. I never have time to even as merely say hi. Once I get back strength to my mouth, maybe I could talk. But for now...sleep.
I started thinking. I was nearing the end of the 15 hours minimum. My brain started churning. Soon my strength returned. It had been a mere 40 seconds, maybe less. It seemed forever. My mind drifting for 40 seconds seemed like 40 minutes. Then all the knowledge of previous incarnations came back and all the intelligence came back.
"Hello? Anybody here?" My eyesight wasn't quite back yet. I had moved myself from the corner to the wall. I slumped down, and waited for some response. My brain was really thinking. I started having headaches. Like bad ones. REALLY bad ones that make you unable to sleep.
Insane plots and plans started racing from my thoughts back to my brain and back again. Then some more insane science theories and equations rolled through my thoughts. It was normal as I knew it.
Then I felt like I was being watched. I opened my left eye and simply saw two guards standing there. I looked in their eyes and I knew they weren't there for taking me. Then one of them pulled out a needle. A big needle that doctors use to scare people with.
My heart sank. They might've found where regeneration starts, but they'll never find the secret...and that means I may stay here forever.
Yup. Needle means blood sample. I'm trying to get someone to talk to him.