Realistic or Modern Almost Mighty (Super Hero RP)

[RubyRose]

Whatever debt you owe, or whatever mistake you made must’ve been a huge one. Or perhaps you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time…


The cells had been dark for several hours again. Not even the slightest bit of light made it into the cold, hard concrete rooms that lay in rows in the huge basement. It was almost like a dungeon from a dark fairytale, the sort of place where monsters and madmen are kept. But the temporary inhabitants of this prison were no monsters, at least not from what one could tell. No, they were all human beings. Sure, they were from different places and had lived different lives up until now, but one thing they all had in common – super powers.


Two weeks ago, the same scenario had happened for all of them; they’d gone to sleep, most of them in the safety of their beds, not knowing that they were being followed. Next time they had opened their eyes it had been in the complete darkness of the very cells they now found themselves in. For days they’d been there, scared, frustrated and alone. Once or twice there’d been a strong light followed by a stinging pain in the back, sending rays of pain up through the neck, and then... sleep. Each time the subjects woke up they’d have faint memory fragments of needles and syringes, doctors in lab coats and strong spotlights overhead. Experiments… Why? And by whom?


((This is where we will begin this game! For some reason you do not know, you woke up in a dark isolation cell.))


You are Free to Post if you've been Accepted!


Written by @Wavebird




Complete List of Characters:


Magpie @Wavebird


Ronni @RubyRose


Ivory @Linwe Lossehelin


John Doe @Tryss


Nathan @CloudyBlueDay


Roark @AlphaDraco

 

[Waverly]

Miya sat in the corner of the dark and cold room, clad in only her underclothes and some sort of hospital gown. She guessed that it had been only an hours or so since she last had gotten something to eat or drink. Good, that means it’s going to take a while before they come back… It seemed they (whoever they were) waited till all food and drink was digested before they returned, at least if one considered the last two times they’d come to take Miya of to conduct their experiments. At least that was what she believed was going on; some vile experiments were being done on her for reasons she didn’t know. In fact, she knew nothing about her current situation, she had no idea where she were, and no idea why she had been put there. Last thing she could remember before this was going to bed after a night out in Stockholm, but she had awoken in this cell. She had felt terrible when she woke up, much more so than she deserved (based upon the amount of drink she had had the night prior).


First, she had been screaming and yelling, kicking and mashing the walls in desperate attempts to get out. But to no avail. Then she’d waited for what felts like days until she got taken to the examination table for the first time. After that she had cried and sobbed without stop till the second time they came for her. Now, she was broken, but in a way felt that she accepted this as her fate. She had been locked up here for ages it seemed now, and she had lost the concept of time long ago. All she knew was that she had slept at least twelve times since she arrived, if not more.


“There’re no cuts or bruises…” She mumbled to herself as she sobbed faintly and examined her arms and legs in the faint light of the tiny candle on the floor. There’d been a box with a bottle of water, some fruit, bread, juice and a tiny candle waiting in the middle of the small room when she woke up after the latest session, just as it had been the time prior. She didn’t know much about what happened each time they come to take her, she didn’t want to remember. The pain in her back each time she went under… It was bad, so bad that she didn’t dare try to remember it or anything related to it either.

--- --- --- ---

​

Miya awoke by the sound of footsteps and mumbling voices. As she opened her eyes she was blinded by the bright light coming from the open door. As her eyes quickly got used to the bright light she could two silhouettes towering above her. They bent down over her, and started picking her up by the arms. She tried but couldn’t resist or fight back, she was too weak from her long time in captivity. She were dragged out in a hallway where a third man, clad in a hooded black robe and a white mask awaited. He pulled a sack over Miya’s head.


“Vad vill ni mig?! Svara!” She screamed in her mother’s tongue as they sat her down in a wheelchair and strapped her to it. The hooded men did not answer, nor did they say a single word during the few minutes they pushed her in the wheelchair. She could hear several doors open and close during the ride, and when finally they stopped the bag over her head was removed. Before her eyes lay a room that looked like it was part of an apartment, far from fancy and lacking windows, but still a paradise compared to the narrow cell she’d spent the last two weeks in.


The men released her from her bonds and left the room, taking the wheelchair with them. Miya could hear them utter few words in a language she didn’t know as they left and locked the door behind them. Spanish or Italian? Perhaps French? It was hard to tell since she didn’t understand what they said. Either way, she forgot all about the men and their language when she saw a sofa standing in the far end of the room. Her weak legs carried her there and then she collapsed on it. Finally, a soft surface... Finally proper sleep...

 

[Tryss]

Johnny's eyes peeled open. His head was pounding. His eyes burned, his back and his legs hurt so badly that they burned. He coughed, sending a ripple of pain through his body. He winced away, and moaned. A girl was shouting in Swedish. She wanted to know what the men wanted with her. "It's okay." He breathed past the pain. "It'll be okay." He repeated it in Swedish, then in French, then again in Swahili. He couldn't move from the floor. His eyes rolled up to watch the men roll her away. "It's okay." He promised again. Everything went black before he could move to the next language.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Johnny didn't know how long he was out, but by the time he woke up, he could move again. His cell was small, cramped, and terrifying. A single candle sat on the ground, the only source of light in his tiny area. The monsters that had taken him had been kind enough to allow him to keep his pack. He opened it, and pulled out the pad. He'd read through it a million times since he'd forgotten everything.


The first page was a collection of tally marks. One for every time he was given the pad without any recollection of its existence. There were twenty marks. Twenty times he'd forgotten his entire life. He turned to the nineteenth page in the pad. It was three pages of the same sentence repeated over and over. You are not a murderer. It told him. The last page had two variations. You are a good person. Choose to be a good person. It begged him. He sighed, and in the margin he began to jot down his thoughts. Some people need to die.





He looked out toward the other cells. He couldn't see much except the flickering lights around him. He sighed, this place was horrible. A group of men gathered before his cell. The men told him to get up. They were using Italian. He nodded, and stumbled to his feet. He looked over his arms at the old scars. He wondered if they were from this place long ago. Maybe this wasn't the first time he'd landed himself here.


They opened his cage door, and he took a physical step back. His mind was flooded with Ju Jitzu moves. His arm shot out, and grabbed one of the men. He had him in a choke hold. It didn't take long for them to get Johnny off him. He didn't know why he continued to try. He knew what would happen now. They'd take him back, they'd do what they were going to do anyway, and then they'd beat the shit out of him.


He shivered as they moved him to a side room. There was a terrible metal table in front of him. They pulled him up. Despite the knowledge that he wasn't going to win, he threw a punch. Two men retaliated. Angry fists pounded against his face. He was bloodied and bruised by the time they strapped him to the table. A tear streamed down his cheek. "God, please stop." He begged. "Please, please don't do this anymore."


A needle bit into his arm, and things began to go fuzzy. "No." He breathed. "No, stop."

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

It seemed for Nathan, when he at last managed to escape captivity, it found him once again.


It was dark. He was groggy. Uncomfortable. Due to the numerous time's he'd retaliated, he was bruised and broken, too. As sadistic as it was to admit, though, the silence was pleasing. In his forever exhausted state, it was valued. He wouldn't exactly say the silence kept him sane, but it calmed him. Allowed him to think in the little time he was awake. His back hurt, coincidentally, the part of his back he couldn't reach. How pleasant.


He'd attempted to search his small, dingy cell, but he could easily miss something. God, he felt like a piece of shit. He'd banged on the bars. Kicked the walls. Yelled a lot. A lot. But nothing worked. He was so powerless. He had powers, for god's sake. And he was powerless. They hadn't taken them away. The cell wasn't power proof. It was him. He was too goddamn tired to walk through a wall. It had been a long time since he'd been this frustrated. With.. himself.


"LET ME OUT!" Nate roared, shaking the bars of his cell for the trillionth time. Then, hooded men pushing a wheelchair quickly passed his cell. A woman, in the chair, by the looks of it. Struggling. Crying out something in a language he didn't understand. Someone replied, in not one, but many languages as well. Dear god. A buncha weirdos he was in this place with. Once the shouts of other prisoners came to a close, Nate slumped back against the wall, sliding to the ground.


He buried his face in his hands. He was tired. Always tired. How was he ever going to get out of here? How long would he be able to hang onto his sanity, even if just by a thread? It wouldn't be long before the men came to take him again. He had to do something. He had to bust out of this place.

 

[RubyRose]

The first thing that alerted Ronni that things were not as they were meant to be was the rough texture beneath his fingers. He immediately sat up and felt himself sway from the sudden movement, his head feeling far too light for his shoulders. He reached up to touch his face to make sure his head really wasn't floating away, before they began to seek out what he had been lying on. It was not the mattress or the bed he was used to; the soft comfort of his warm blankets and soft pillows were no where to be found.The floor was freezing cold beneath his bare feet as well, and it wasn't the nice smooth texture of tile, either. He closed his eyes... this could be a prank. Please, Please be a prank.


"Haha guys, very funny." Ronni said... or tried to say. All that came out was a croak. He reached up to grip at his throat, terror flooding him as he realized he was not where he was supposed to be and on top of everything else he couldn't see. Until he got his voice back to working order his echolocation wasn't going to work. The blood pounding in his ears didn't help the situation, and the feel of his heart pulsing rapidly only increased his fear. His hands reached up, sought to discover more about this place he found himself. His fingers quickly made contact with a wall that felt a similar texture to the floor. He pushed to his feet, hand trailing over the wall slowly and he found that he was leaning more on the wall than anything. His body was weak and it ached from activities unknown to Ronni.


"Where am I?" He coughed out, continuing to seek out something, anything that would explain what was going on. A shrill scream had him flinching and stumbling back, legs giving out so that he was tumbling to the floor. The pain only made his foggy mind worse, giving him more to delve through as he attempted to piece together his situation. He pushed himself back to his feet on determination alone and continued his path until he discovered he was in a room with one door. And one... cot? Bed? Something unpleasant to lie on but that did better then the floor. As he continued to stumble and crash around he missed the creak of a door opening and strong hands grasped his arms, restraining him as a sharp prick hit his neck. The world, already black to him, faded into nothing once more.




Ronni awoke again, the tingle of fear distant as his mind restarted. It reminded him that this was not where he should be. He was not safely at home. And the state of his voice? He cleared his throat and flinched... it was still down for the count. Swallowing heavily, Ronni continued to lie on the cot, wondering what was in store for him. Why had he been brought here?


What if the robber had friends? What if they've kidnapped me and are planning on killing me?!


Don't be ridiculous Ronni... that guy was just a petty thief. But if it wasn't him... then who is it holding me in this cell?


He at least knew that he was not alone which was a small comfort. Continuing to lie in the cot, mind too foggy to do much else, Ronni allowed happy memories to play through his mind in an attempt to remain calm. Perhaps he could still find a way out of this... But already he was feeling like there was no reason to hold out hope. He was blind and he was clueless... and his only advantage was not available to him. If there was a more hopeless situation, Ronni couldn't think of it.

 

[Linwe Lossehelin]

Food...Food, there was never enough to eat here. She felt like she was starving, her insides scavenging for scraps by scraping the insides of her stomach and intestines, scouring the recesses of her body for any morsel of energy..of strength. Not only did she eat a lot because she liked to eat in general and because she worked out regularly, but her body required a large amount of sustenance for her abilities. Without the food to fuel her..well, even without actively altering her skeletal structure, the little bit of food they gave her was hardly enough to survive, let alone resist in any way. As if..as if they knew how much she needed to eat.


After a few days of being here, or..what she thought was a few days, there was no telling. She had at one point braced her knuckles with bone to beat on the bars. They had cracked upon impact - they being the bone knuckles. Even her healing was weakened by the lack of food, and when normally she wouldn't even have a scratch after mere minutes, she was now covered in bruises and raw skin from where she had tried to form bone only to have it break off, too brittle to even remain attached. The floor was littered with shattered ivory, and her hospital-like gown was filed with holes from her various attempts at escaping with the use of her powers.


Eddie hissed as a patch of raw flesh still trying to regrow brushed against stone. She was curled up in a corner, waiting. Always waiting for them to come for her again. She resisted every time. Even in her weakened state she managed to get in a few good punches, but it was getting harder and harder as time went on. Each day she grew more weary, more tired...more hungry. Her body, her bones, ached.


The luster had faded from her pale pink hair, and her skin was covered in dirt; she looked very much a ragtag delinquent in her current state. But her eyes were alert, constantly watching anyone or anything that moved within sight from behind these awful iron bars..


Today was a bit more eventful than normal. Eddie flinched as people came into view. They passed by her cell quickly; she leapt, hurling her body against the bars as she watched them pass. A girl in a wheelchair, a bag over her head. She was yelling in a foreign language.


...Eddie had never felt so weak.


In a fit of rage she tried again. She began to beat on the bars. One hand held a bar for leverage while the other swung to nail the same bar over, and over and over again. Each time she drew her hand back to hit the bar again bone surged from beneath her flesh. Then her fist came down, striking the iron. The bones cracked loudly, breaking off and falling. Then she drew back again. Bone formed. She hit the bar. Without realizing it she had begun screaming. Roaring at the top of her lungs at the men as they disappeared with the girl. Her hand was bleeding, the warm red dripping down the cell bar and coating her fingers. She was using her entire body to hit the bar, throwing her hand forward to strike it to no avail. She was simply..too weak. Absently Endillion wondered if this is what it felt like to be..normal. Did it always feel so helpless?


This went on for minutes until she could do no more. Her knuckles were probably broken even beneath her flesh; she sank to her knees, blood seeping down her arm as she clung to the bars, her head fallen. She was panting, the strain making her head throb.


"When I...get out..you'll be sorry.."

 

[Captain]

Big waves were crashing into the shore. The sky was almost black with clouds and it was clear that it wouldn't take too long now before the storm began. And yet, Jady was not afraid. Instead of fleeing like everybody else on the beach, she stood calmy just outaide of the waves reach. Swimming was something she gave up years ago, but the sea still managed to calm her. Even when it was like this; ruthless and dangerous. Actually a good description of her, when she was at her best. Yes, she was not afraid for this storm. But there was something wrong. Something began to burn in her throat. Something that scraped painfully against her lungs and she began to have difficulty breathing. Immediately she knew what was wrong. This all wasn't real. This was a scene made up by her sleep deprived brain and if she could not wake herself up soon enough she would- she would-


Gargling and coughing, Jady woke with a start from her seemingly peaceful dream and moved so wildly that she fell of off the hard mattress she was laying on and fell onto the cold concrete floor. Bowing her head, large streams of water poured out of her until the whole floor of the very small space was soaked with it. Finally the water stream stopped and she could breathe again. She had no time to think through where the hell she was again and why; she had to get hydrated again and fast.


Reaching in her hoodie pocket with shaking hnds she was relieved to find her small bottle with drinking water and she quickly took a sip out of it. She wanted to drink much more than that, but it was best to safe the rest as possible. Who knew when they would come again.


Now that her panic slowly began to eb away, the sensations of a painful head ache and slowed thinking began to come to her attention. Clutching her head with a pained groan she reached back in the dark to find the bed again and she sat on it. Flashes of needles piercing her skin went through her mind. There were sudden sounds coming from outside the room. Was it a person? It had to be; that could only be screams from another human being. The past few days she slept so much that she never was sure when she woke up if there even were other people with her or not. She always had to remember it again.


Blinking her eyes a few times, she began to get used to the dark. There was a little light coming from above her; a rectangular line of light was visible. That was new. Jady wanted nothing more than to curl up again and sleep away the head ache that felt too much like a migraine attack, but her training kicked in automatically; check out your surroundings. Find something that may become useful.


Groaning again, she slowly stood up and walked on wobbly legs to the rectangular. Touching it, she felt a cool wall that could be a door. She could put her nails in it, and she managed to slide the strip of metal away so she could look outside. There were bars in it so she couldn't reach. In front of her she saw another door, but because of the angle she couldn't see much further right or left than that. A small light was burning into the hallway and it made figures appear into her vision. Squeezing her eyes shut, Jady tried to focus on what to do. Call out? But what if her captor heard her and decided she needed another shot of whatever they use to sedate her?


What even happened to her? And why? It couldn't be because of her power - right? No one was supposed to know about it! And yet, they took her when she was most vulnerable. Why else would they wait until she slept when they could've just snatched her away from the streets? The damn bastards. It was so difficult to concentrate right now.


Hmm... She wanted to sleep again. She probably wouldn't wake up with seawater choking her again. That never happened so often. She should be alright. But what about her situation? What if they came back when she was vulnerable again? When would they bring food again? The stuff they brought earlier wasn't edible anymore thanks to the water.


"Someone there?" Jady said slightly slurring as if she were drunk. She clutched the bar to keep herself upright. "I'm really thirsty... Wow, what did you guys even give to me? This is some good stuff alright..." What was she even talking about? Snap out of it! Stay awake! Don't you cave in!


It was difficult, but she pressed her sharp nails into her palms and bit on her lip. The pain was so sharp that it cleared her vision again. But she wouldn't be able to keep this up for long. Soon... Soon the dark would take her away again to the ocean.


And then the storm would arrive.

 

[Waverly]

Miya was comfortable at last. The soft red felt fabric of the sofa felt like heaven against her skin. The sofa was both soft and wide, and considerably warmer than the floor she’d been sleeping on in the cell. She dozed off for a short while, but woke up again with the distinct feeling for something being wrong. She sat herself up in the sofa, and looked around in the room, carefully taking note of every detail she was able to see from here.


The main room (which she was in now) was relatively big and rectangular, almost a square in shape, each of the beige walls approximately five or six meters in length, giving the room a bright and open atmosphere to it. There were three doors in the room, one heavy-set steeldoor leading outside to wherever she’d just come from. And then there were to other doors, both of them closed at the moment, and both of them ordinary wooden doors painted white. There was a small kitchen area in one side of the room, with a few chairs and a table, and on this side there were two sofas and a couple of chairs around a coffee table with a tiny, old, television set on it.


Out of curiosity, Miya forced herself to stand up and take a look around to investigate the apartment. First she went to one of the closed doors and turned the knob, it was not locked and sounded a loud and high-pitched creak as it slid open. Inside there was a two bunk beds and some two wardrobes, on each bed lay sheets and a pillow, as if waiting for the beds to be made.


Without closely investigating the bedroom she went to the next door, inside which there turned out to be a toilet bathroom that also held a rusty old tub that was equipped with a shower. The thought of getting clean and fresh from a warm shower was more than delightful. Miya looked over her shoulder as if to make sure no one was there. A quick shower... It'll make me feel better. She argued with herself, and then looked back at the tub again. It was rusty and not at all very fresh, but then she saw herself in the mirror that hung on the wall above the washbasin. She looked like a hag, with old makeup-tears itched on her cheeks and her hair was a right mess. Her face was dirty too from sleeping on the hard floor of the cell. She shook her head, and decided to risk it. So, she began to strip out of her clothes and then proceeded to get into the warm shower. A true feeling of satisfaction and comfort swept over the girl as the warm water flowed over her naked body, brining both warmth and the feeling of being clean and pure (which was a feeling that Miya was quite found of). Even though she was alone in the apartment she had made sure to lock the bathroom door before stepping into the shower. After all, the last thing she wanted was to be naked if the hooded men returned.

 

[Somersault]

Kandi woke, hoping to see the sidewalk through her window, seeing people talking, smoking, something. When she woke, however, she saw the same thing she saw for the last two weeks or so. Darkness.


When she first woke up here, Kandi called out for Jocelyn, her parents, her sister. That was two weeks ago. She still hoped that she would one day see them again, but for now, she was resigned to her fate. 17 and washed up, she thought as she continued to look at the wall. She had dreams, dreams of becoming a writer, a poet, winning a Pulitzer Prize, giving a speech. None of that really mattered now, did it? Right now, she was just a pawn, something to be experimented on, like an animal. Not that Kandi supported animal experimentation, she even wrote an article about it. But she did feel like one. She was trapped, alone, except with the other poor souls who were in cells.


She mainly tried to pass the time by sleeping, ignoring the pain in her head, and the rumbling of her stomach. When she slept, it was like she was floating in a black void. No dreams, no nothing. She could just be out like a light. However, this meant that she didn't hear the footsteps behind her.


A sack was placed over her head, and her hefty, still unmoving body was carried into an elevator. Grunts of exertion could be heard by the people trying to move her, and the elevator dinged as it reached it's floor. They then opened the door, and plopped the still-sleeping girl on the couch.

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

The small light from outside his cell from the hallway, was suddenly blocked. Nate looked up, surprised to see his cell door screech open. He was yanked from his cell by an incredibly firm hand that gripped his arm tightly. They seemed to know he was a fighter. A bag was thrown over his head quickly, but no way in hell would that stop him. He began to squirm any way he could, jabbing an elbow into the face of the one who held his arm, but he wasn't the only one.


There had to be at least four men that finally managed to subdue Nate. He'd punched and elbowed a few of them, but that was all he'd gotten before he was forced into a wheel chair, just like the other girl he saw. He didn't stop struggling, even with people holding him down. The strangest thing was, though, Nathan did not make a sound. He now refused to give his captors that satisfaction. He would fight with all he had. Wherever they were taking him, he wouldn't let them do anything any longer.


So imagine his surprise when he was shoved into a decent looking apartment.


What the hell was this? Some sorta cell upgrade for punching a guard in the face? No way. This had to be some sorta joke or trick. He wasn't buying it. Maybe a taste of freedom before they put him back in the cell, to taunt him. Wouldn't that be nice, the bastards. But in his shock, he hadn't noticed the young woman on the couch, asleep so heavily she could very well be dead.


Slowly, he shuffled towards the sleeping girl, and poked her in the shoulder. "Er.. You alive there?" He muttered, clearly unhappy with the situation. He'd hoped to get out of this place alone, if possible. But now it didn't seem very possible, did it.

 

[Somersault]

Kandi was dreaming that she was free, and that she was with her family and Jocelyn. Discussing poetry, gushing over the newest novel, starting petitions, she was dreaming about all of this. She hoped that she would be reunited with them, at least someday. She started to snore into a pillow on the sofa, and drool was starting to come out of her mouth. She normally would have been embarrassed about that, except for the fact that she was deeply asleep.


Kandi was still slumped over on the couch sleeping, when she felt something poking her. "Whuh!? Who's there?" As she rolled over the couch, she saw the face of a man, and drool on her sweater. Quickly wiping it off in a panic, she then decided to inspect the man's face in detail. He seemed to be in his early 20s or so. She then wondered if he was also one of the captives, or someone sent here to watch over her, or something like that. She then brushed her hair out of her face, and introduced herself. "Uh, hi? I'm Kandi, and I was kidnapped, put in a really dank and stank cell, and then I was brought here. How about you? Also, by the way, I am very much alive."

 

[Tryss]

Johnny had never been one to cry...not that he remembered anyway. He liked to think that he handled pain - both mental and physical - quite well. However, as tears streamed down his face, and pleas fled his lips, he was reminded that even the strongest can be broken. Cold eyes stared down at him through masks, as needles bit into his flesh. The mystery liquid that was injected into his body flooded his being with agony. He shook, shivered, vomited, and cried out. Still nothing stopped the monsters that stood above him.


He silently vowed to kill all of them, note pad of forgotten memories be damned, these bastards deserved to die.


The edges of his vision began to cloud. His head pounded. Warm blood ran down his arms, but he wasn't sure how it had gotten there. One more cruel injection later, and he had slipped into unconsciousness.


Johnny didn't dream. He never dreamed. To dream would be to remember, and his mind wouldn't allow that. He settled into the blackness, thankful only for the merciful numbness that took hold of his body. No more pain. Not now anyway.


The men lifted his lean body off the table and sat him in a wheelchair, bag over his head. The wheeled him down corridors until they came upon a door. One man pulled the bag off his head roughly. He slumped over. Two others quickly unfastened the restraints that bit into his wrists.


They opened the door swiftly. Icy eyes slid over the two others in sight. Two men quite literally threw Johnny's limp body into the room. He hit the ground with a loud thump, and rolled over the ground stopping at the feet of a young man who was standing above the couch. Johnny's eyes were closed, his mouth shut, his body completely limp. Only the shallow rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was in fact still among the living.


The men closed the door, and left Johnny crumpled and bloodied upon the ground.


@CloudyBlueDay @Somersault

 

[Somersault]

While Kandi was waiting for a response, she reflexively touched her hair, and...yes! Her headband was still there! It was one of Kandi's most prized possessions, something to hold on to during the sea of confusion, sadness, and so much more. She felt that it would be kind of awkward if she continued to stare at him, so she moved away from him on the sofa. Then, she heard the door open once more.


She then saw a group of...men? women? people in general? carry what seemed to be a young man, in a wheelchair, with a bag over his head. Kandi then started to stare dumbfounded at this, and shrieked when they threw him onto the ground. Still shocked by this turn of events, she started to scoot away from the body of the man, scared. She continued to stare, with fear in her eyes. She then started screaming, because she didn't know what else to do. "OH GOD! IS HE OKAY! ARE YOU OKAY!"

 

[AlphaDraco]

Silver metal connected to copper wires and intersected into a mechanism to complex for words to explain at the moment. Connected to that would be the generated, which would lead to the batteries, which in turn would power the servomotor it was connected to. However, if he took out the power generator, which would leave the arm on a 25 minute power supply, he could perhaps rig it together with some of the less important wiring and several capacitors to make a nice explosive with which he could blow the door off its hinges. Then he could attempt an escape run. That was, if the explosion wouldn't kill him in the process, or maim him, or actually have no effect at all and just ended up scarring the door and leaving him down an arm....


Roark groaned and began pacing again, trying to think of another plan for escape. Why did he have to kidnapped by some evil organization in his sleep? Heck, he had gone to sleep in his bed in the repair shop and ended up waking up in this dark, gloomy, poorly kept cell. Of course, his immediate reaction had been to try to punch through what could ascertained as a structural weak point on the door, but after five hours of continuous punching with his metal arm and barely a dent to show for his efforts, he had to give up on that plan. Then there had been those mad scientists or whatever they were, drugging him and doing things to him that he hoped were not involved with probing. Fighting them had been kind of futile, especially since they took his wrench and shotgun. And of course, building a bomb out of his own arm was not likely to succeed, well at least with him intact. Plus the food was terrible.


The sounds of screaming and thrashing of what could only be guessed as other captives of these deranged lunatics started upon again after a couple of the aforementioned deranged lunatics walked by with a wheelchair. Roark sighed and leaned back against the wall. He needed to get out of here before they really started to mess with his internal organs. Or tried to take off his arm. But how? Leaning back more and staring at the ceiling, he began to plan. Maybe if modified his arm to channel electricity in a monodirectional path outwards, he could form a sort of lightening cannon that could..... He stopped as he stared at the ceiling.


"Has there always been a vent there?"




The vent was cramped, dirty, and smelled of mold, but it was his only escape option so far. He had been able to break through the vent shaft pretty easily, a quick punch and then a pull had torn the vent from its frame. Climbing up was also relatively simple, and it was kind of surprising that it only led in one direction, though Roark rationalized this as to keep air supplies of prisoners separate in case someone had to be given the knockout gas treatment. Then, of course, there had been the problem of the noise he made as he crawled through. Apparently, a metal arm hitting the side of a metal ventilation shaft made a lot of noise, but he had to just deal with it and pray to God that no one heard him.


"I still can't believe there was a vent in the ceiling the entire time. There was no way that vent was there the entire time." He muttered to himself as he shifted to go around a bend.


Pulling himself along even further, for however long this extremely long vent was, he eventually saw light filtering through a grate in the front. Barely suppressing a yippee ki yay, Roark sped up to the bright light at the end of the tunnel, before stopping for a second and wondering if he had died. Deciding that it was somewhat unlikely he had died, seeing as he still had a robot arm and didn't want to go into a theological debate with himself if he would have the prosthetic in Heaven, Roark came up close to the grate. Shifting and taking a deep breath, he pulled back his robot-arm and punched through the vent before leaping outward.


"Freeeeeedooooooommm!"


He was rewarded for his efforts back flipping over and landing smack on his back in an empty carpeted room. Catching his breathe he grabbed onto the side of the bed he had missed by an inch and looked around. One thought crossed his mind. Why the heck was a hotel bedroom connected to Frankenstein's laboratory?

 

[Waverly]

Miya froze in fear when she heard the sound of people coming from the room outside. Slowly, she turned little vault on the tap to stop the steady stream of hot water from coming. Then, she quickly stepped out of the bathtub and slipped into her white hospital gown again, fearful that someone would break the door in at any moment. The feeling of purity that Miya had felt in the shower was clearly dented by having to put the dirty gown on again. And little did it help that she was now completely wet, which made the gown stick to her skin in an uncomfortable fashion. For a moment she just stood there, trying to figure out what to do when the people in masks and hoods would come barging into the bathroom. But no one even as much as touched the locked bathroom door, and Miya was left standing there in the middle of the room, with water dripping from all over her. It made her feel silly somehow, but did not in anyway ease her fear.


She could hear a small thud, as if someone dropped something on the floor (or in this case, on the sofa), and a short while after she could hear the steel door outside close and lock again. Quiet as a mouse she sneaked up to the bathroom door and carefully pushed her hear up against it in an attempt to hear what was going on outside. It was all quiet from what Miya could tell. Perhaps they’d gone? After a moment of considering her options, Miya decided to leave the bathroom, and was just about the turn the doorknob when she heard the sound of the steel door opening again. Startled, she ducked to the side and sat herself down on the floor, leaning against the wall by the side of the door. The rising fear in her, now, heavily heart made her close her eyes and shed a tear that slowly ran down her cheek as she intently listened to what was going on outside. The door closed again, but this time she clearly heard both footsteps and muffled voices coming from the room outside. Someone is in here! The second later the door was opened for a third time and followed a heavy thump as if someone was carelessly thrown on the floor.


“OH GOD! IS HE OKAY! ARE YOU OK!” Exclaimed one of the voices outside.


It took a while before Miya really realised that the voice was speaking in English, it was as if she was set on it being in Swedish. Am I no longer in Sweden? Miya felt her heart pounding harder and harder inside her chest. As she tried to come up with an explanation to what was happening, she could only think of scenarios that couldn’t possibly end well. Illegal medical experiments? Hostage? Trafficking? Crazy ritualists? Miya’s mind started racing in all manners of dark directions, and she started imagining all the horrible things what was going to be done to her. As she did, more tears started down her cheeks and she had to focus hard to control her breathing and keep calm. Somewhere deep inside, her mind decided that it’d be wisest to remain here, and hope that the individuals outside did not notice her.


So, there she sat on the floor, leaned against the wall and all wet from the shower. Sobbing quietly as she looked on her the faded blue polka-dots on her otherwise white gown and tried to overhear what was going on outside.


@CloudyBlueDay @Tryss @Somersault @AlphaDraco ((I think?))

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

"Uh, hi? I'm Kandi, and I was kidnapped, put in a really dank and stank cell, and then I was brought here. How about you? Also, by the way, I am very much alive."


Nate snorted. "Good to know. Seems I was in the same predicament as you." He leaned against the wall, longing to be able to slip through it, but to no avail. As awake as he presented himself to be, the dark circles under his eyes gave it away. He was in pain as well, but that he wouldn't show. He didn't need or want to be babied.


The door opened, and before Nate had a chance to jump at the men and fight his way out, the dumped a body and left. The girl next to him began to shriek, and Nate's eyes squinted in annoyance. "Christ, quiet down." He growled, kneeling towards the motionless body and rolling him over. The guy had been freshly bloodied, didn't look too well. But he was indeed breathing.


He motioned for Kandi to get off the sofa, and once she had done so, Nate heaved the unconscious man up on the soft surface. He was thin, bony, easy enough for Nate to pick up. Seemed he was the only able-bodied person here for now, what, with the screaming girl and nearly dead guy. Though.. there was another door, which was locked, and Nathan wondered if there might be someone


"Freeeeeedooooooommm!" "Holy shi-" Nate jumped as there was a loud THUMP in another room. Lunatics. He was surrounded by lunatics. And he could swear someone was crying behind that locked door. He had to get out of this place before he lost his sanity just like the others seemed to have lost.

 

[Linwe Lossehelin]

Every minute seemed to tick by so slowly. After her temper tantrum passed, she stood, pacing furiously back and forth across her cell. It amazed her she hadn't worn a path in the floor; even with the drugs, her body was extremely resilient. Covered in patches of raw skin and blood dripping from the fingertips of her left hand, she moved fluidly, brows furrowed on her forehead all the while. She had seen them take more than a few people by her room at this point. What the hell was going on..? Nothing in this damn place made any sense. How could anyone have found her location? Why was she here? And were there others with abilities here, too? Is that who those people were..? She had seen a man shackled with rubber gloves. Others, sacks pulled over their heads...


Her thoughts were interrupted by her door flying open. Her head snapped in that direction, eyes narrowing and body reacting. It was almost an insult. They had gone from sending a solid dozen of men for her down to a flimsy 8. But they had grown accustomed to her fighting them. She swung, managing to catch one in the face with a hook while others reached for her. She screamed in outrage.


Their trip down the hall was very much the same. Like a stampede down the hallway as they hurried to get rid of her while still trying to contain her. Her skin burned, her hand ached, her entire body was begging for sustenance, but she fought on. She felt someone strike her head; blood trickled down her face..it was all a blur as she struggled for freedom to no avail.


The door to the strange apartment opened, the other inhabitants still adjusting to the most recent events when a crowd of..whoever these people were, shoved Eddie through with no remorse. They seemed desperate to get away from her. The woman stumbled in, turning immediately to run at the opening as the door slammed shut; her shoulder met the unforgiving door. Normally she may have been able to beat her way through it, but..that definitely didn't happen.


Everyone in the room heard a resounding snap as her shoulder popped from its socket upon impact with the door. She made no sound of pain, only a growl of frustration as she stood, arm limp as she turned to face the others. Surprise showed on her face very briefly before it was replaced with frustration. Her opposite hand, still wet with blood, lifted to grab her shoulder. With a single, practiced shoved Eddie pushed the bone back into the socket.


"Hi."





The woman rolled her shoulder, making sure it was able to function before stepping into the room. She was quite a sight. They had left her her underwear, keeping her from being entirely indecent even with holes all over her dress in varying sizes. There was a trail of blood dripping down the left side of her face and the corner of her lips, making her eyes shine like blue tinted ice. Her visible skin was covered in pale patches of raw, pink flesh or bruises from where she had been beaten. Those same eyes scanned the room. Two men and a female. One man was passed out on the couch. He was thin, and in about as rough shape as she was. The other..needed to shave that mess off his face. The woman kept her distance, like a beast stalking prey, and made a wide circle around them, heading to check the other doors.

 

[Captain]

It was quite difficult to eavesdrop on people when you were hidden in a wardrobe in the living room. Yet here Jady was, sitting very uncomfortably underneath a rack of clothes. The white coats had dropped her into this fancy room not that long ago, and as an answer to the luxury she had panicked and locked herself up into the first closet she saw. Yep, her first reaction was to lock herself into an even smaller space than the cell had been. But maybe that had been a good tactic, since there were now various people in the apartment and she did not know whether she could trust them or not.


For what felt like ages she was biting on her nails and was trying to figure out her plan of action. She was a Navy soldier for God's sake! What was she doing hiding in here like a little kid? But it was just the uncertainty of the situation that was killing her. She did not like strangers at all. From what she could make out from her inconvenient spot, the people with her were also prisoners and had no idea what was going on. So she should really just reveal herself and join them in maybe finding a way to escape... But Jady couldn't just jump out of a wardrobe like it was the most normal thing in the world, could she? They would probably freak out. Maybe hit her on the head with a chair. She did not want that to happen. Oh God, there was no good solution to this. She hated being in the center of attention, but waiting until the white coats came again was simply not an option.


Steel yourself, Jadelyn,she thought firmly to herself and swallowed. Think of calm waves rolling into the shore. No, not about drowning! Just- Just the waves, and-


Damn it all.


Slowly Jady raised herself up in the wardrobe and slowly opened the door. It creaked horribly and she winced.


"Uhm... Hi. I'm a good person, don't hit me please. I'm one of you!" Great, Jady. Just great. Saying you were one of them could be interpreted as you being not one of them at all and that you were lying. "Eh- I think it would be best if I don't explain what I was doing hiding in a closet. Sorry?" she finished awkwardly as she sat her painful behind down on one of the sofas.


Why did she have to be so weird around strange people? Now they'll think she's crazy or something. Just great. If the white coats wouldn't kill her, than her embarrassment would. Christ.

 

[AlphaDraco]

At this point in time, which was approximately 3.289 seconds after Roark recovered from landing on his back and having the breath knocked out of him (which takes a while, trust me. From experience), he had figured that the room he was now in must belong to one of the people who was running this place. Why it was connected to the same ventilation shaft that was connected to his cell he couldn't say, perhaps he had missed a turn, but now was his chance for escape. If the commotion coming from outside the door was anything to go by, it was safe to assume that they had realized he had escaped by now and where looking for him. If he was going to escape, he would need a weapon.


Looking around the room for any electronic or machine that he could, he was able to spy a lamp in the corner on a nightstand. Taking the lamp apart, he laid each individual piece out on the bed in front of him. He needed to make something that would help him escape, but what could be made of a lamp? Well, whatever it was, the subconscious part of his brain must have figured something out, because the feeling of familiarity rushed through his mind and body. His hands started to put the pieces together rapidly. A copper wire rapped around this section of metal, connecting it this part of the bulb, wired more efficiently and a make shift, high voltage battery near the end. Some other things too complex to explain without an engineering degree plus thirty years on the job, and there it was.


It looked like a crappy megaphone with a light bulb on the end.


Well, Roark definitely knew it wasn't the most threatening looking weapon ever, unless the person had a fear of tetanus, but he knew it was functional. If his memory served him right, the way desired the device would send out an extremely bright flash, like a flashbang without the bang, which would temporarily blind whoever was looking at it. Of course, that amount of energy surging through the filament of the bulb would cause it the break, so iota was basically a one time use item.


"Well," Roark said as he came up to the door, hearing the still going on commotion, "better not screw this up."


With that, he flung open the door and turned in the direction of the sounds.


"Say cheese!"


His brain sent a message down through his nerves, telling them to pull the trigger. At the same time, his eyes sent their signal to the brain, which then interpreted what it saw as a group of ragged people who had probably been in captivity for several weeks, not the evil Dr. Frankenstein it had been expecting. By the time it made this realization, the impulse arrived at Roark's trigger finger.


"Oh, crap" was all he could say before the device illuminated the room in a brilliant flash of light.

 

[RubyRose]

Ronni wasn't sure how long he lay on the bed in his cell this time before his mind fuzzed out again. Voices woke him this time, and he automatically tried to sit up before immediately regretting it. One hand reached out, fumbling, before clasping the side of the bed and the other hand pressed to his forehead in an attempt to stop the spinning feeling that had taken over him. Squinting his eyes shut -not that it made all that much of a difference- Ronni focused on the voices instead of the headache that was beginning to throb inside his head.


"Sucks that the only way out of here is by boat." One guard grumbled, Ronni presumed to another guard.


"I know what you mean... it's ridiculous how long our shifts have to be because of how long the boat trip is. We're stuck here for a week because it takes a couple of hours to get off this blasted island."


"So what made you take this job?"


"Good money... and I didn't catch that it was on an island until after the fact. You?"


"Wanted to help keep these freaks behind bars."


"Did they really take all of their belongings?"


"All but like... underwear and stuff, from what I head. They didn't even burn it though... they just locked it up in one of the closets at the front of the base."


"Huh... well burning it would be a waste."


"I guess... what I think is more of a waste is that they're keeping the freaks alive instead of ridding the world of them right now. I say kill'em, but that's just me."





The voices began to fade out as the guards moved past Ronni's cell and out of his hearing range. He attempted to process what he had just overheard but his mind was still trapped in a thick fog. Time elapsed once more and he wasn't sure if it was minutes or hours before hands were pulling and dragging at him, taking him from the semi safety of that cot and placing him in something cold that forced him to seat. At the motion of rolling, Ronni realized it was a wheelchair.


He was remembering more and more... but Ronni wondered why that was being allowed. Why wasn't he unconscious again already? Perhaps whatever they had been using on him was no longer affecting his system? He almost wished it hadn't... especially as the change in temperature told him he had entered a different room and he was moved from the wheelchair to a very cold table. He tensed up, body shivering as the metal pressed against his open skin- whatever fabric he was wearing not doing even near a good job in keeping his body safe from the cold. He shivered, unable to stop himself as he lay there, unsure of what was going on. He could feel his eyes move around in their sockets wildly, as if they might be able to relay visual information to him if they just flicked around fast enough. The murmur of voices could be heard and it was a long moment, then a prick to the neck, and Ronni was out again, world going back to safe oblivion.

 

[Somersault]

Kandi continued screaming, and she heard screams around her. She just wanted to be home again. With her family, her friends, her LIFE. She didn't want to be here. Who did?


She started trying to calm herself, then even more people entered the room. She continued to panic, and decided to get off the couch. Still breathing in and out way too quickly, it looked like she was going to have a panic attack. Kandi tried to concentrate on a single moment. Her family, poetry, something. She started closing her eyes, and just tried to steady herself out. Extend your arms, breathe. She just kept on breathing.

 

[Tryss]

A flash of light penetrated Johnny’s dark sanctuary. His eyes began to peel open. His head was pounding, his stomach churned, and for a few seconds, he was convinced he was going to throw up. Worst of all, Johnny remembered everything. Every needle prod was fresh in his mind. Every blow landed by those masked bastards. Every second his heart spent trying to claw its way from his chest. He remembered it all.


For the first time in his life he (or at least what he remembered of it) he wished for his memory lapse.


His ears were ringing. A hand pressed against his temple as he tried to quell the pounding migraine. It took him a full thirty seconds to realize that the ringing in his ears was actually a woman screaming. He moaned, and forced his eyes to stay open long enough to find her. She was cowering on the far end of a couch. When the hell had he moved rooms? His heart pounded as he looked around. Two men were standing above him. His first thought was that they belonged to the group of men who had spent the last several days making his life miserable. That was until he noticed the hospital gowns everyone was wearing.


He pushed himself up to a sitting position and buried his face in his right palm. His left arm wrapped tightly around his stomach as he tried to keep down whatever food was still in his stomach. His hand touched something wet, and he pulled it away. It was smeared with blood. That explained the headache.


A third man was standing in the hallway, he had a mechanical arm, and a strange machine in one hand. He could only assume that he had been responsible for the light that had brought him back to the land of the living.


The woman was still screaming. “I can appreciate how frightened you must be.” He said calmly as he tried to push away the growing anger that built up within him. His head was still pounding. Christ, he needed an Ibuprofen or and Aspirin or something. “However, if you could please stop, I would be eternally grateful.” He mumbled. His words were meant to be loud and strong, but he wasn’t even certain the woman could hear them. His voice was hoarse and small in comparison to her high pitche shrieks.


Johnny pulled his head from his hand and glanced around. There were several people in the room. Several long dreads spilled over his shoulder, dangling just centimeters above the floor. He sucked in a deep breath, and tried for the millionth time to calm the queasiness in his stomach. It was no use.

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

More and more people spilled into the room. Some shoved in, some in closets, some bursting from the vents. "Uhm... Hi. I'm a good person, don't hit me please. I'm one of you! Eh- I think it would be best if I don't explain what I was doing hiding in a closet. Sorry?"


Definitely all lunatics. But when a bloodied woman pushed a bone back into her shoulder socket, something clicked in Nate's mind. They were all.. they all had powers. That's why they were here. It.. was a theory always in the back of his mind, but Nate had done loads of other bad things, maybe some bad enough to deserve this. His mind had been too foggy to truly understand, but the flash of light coming next would probably be a good wake up call.


"Say cheese!" The brilliant light caught Nate off guard, and before he could turn away, his vision went white for a good few seconds. He yelled out a few unpleasant words, rubbing his eyes furiously. Before glaring at the man who seemed to have set off the light. He seemed flustered, like he'd wanted to change his mind at the last second. Fucking.. lunatics, idiots..


The Kandi girl was still screaming, and Nate was getting far beyond irritated. Seemed the guy Nate had moved from the floor to the couch was waking up. Nate could see his lips moving, he was talking, but so quietly he couldn't hear. But the goddamn girl didn't stop screaming, and Nate was just about ready to punch a wall, he didn't care if he went through it or not. "Please. Shut the hell up. Your screaming is not helping." He said, exasperated and angry.


"Why'd they put us here.. why take us from our cells.." He muttered under his breath. "Something is wrong. Are they done with us? Put us here to kill us?" He put his hand to the wall and attempted to push it through, then swore furiously again under his breath when nothing happened.

 

[Waverly]

In the bathroom the white and sterile light flickered irregularly, almost annoying to the point that Miya had to get up and turn the lights off. But she decided it was better to continue her biding of time in order to find out as much as she possibly could about the people on the outside. After all, there was just a matter of time before someone tried the door. So, Miya was still sitting crept up against the wall, listening intently to all that was going on in the room on the other side of the locked bathroom door.


She heard all manners of things happening out there: people coming and going, cries, screams, and voices raised in anger. Judging from the angry voice, the individuals gathered on the outside were also prisoners, or abductees, or whatever she was herself in this place. The language spoken was still English, American English to be exact, which made her wonder. Am I overseas, or are they? As she looked around in the bathroom she couldn’t quite find anything to tell her which was the case.


At any rate, her heartbeat slowly started to get back to its normal pace as the worst scare left her body and she sort of got used to the situation. From what Miya could tell the people outside didn’t seem like they were her enemies, but for the moment she had no intentions of getting to know them any better. But perhaps she could peek through the key hole and see who they were?


She was good enough at moving silently to get up on her feet without as much as a sound. But then came the tricky part, getting the key out of the keyhole without having it cling, clang or otherwise make any noise as it was taken out. With a steady hand she drew the key out slowly, only letting a slight click sound as she did. Carefully she crouched down, brushed her long, black, hair out of her face, and started looking through the keyhole in an attempt to see the faces of the people on the other side.

 

[Tryss]

Johnny jumped when the man beside him raised his voice to the insanely annoying screaming woman. Once he had finished yelling at her, he spoke again, this time though, it was quieter. Johnny was silently thankful for that. His head was till pounding. "Something is wrong. Are they done with us? Put us here to kill us?"





Johnny listened intently as the man spoke. He nodded. "Makes sense." He answered, his arm still folded over his stomach. He lifted a hand to point toward the door. "We should block off that entrance in case they come in here, guns blazing. He paused, and considered the possibilities. "Unless of course they plan to flood the vents with phosphate, CO2, mustard gas or so on and so forth. In which case, we're going to want to take our chances and break down the door." He pointed out.


His eyes lifted to meet those of the people in the room. They were a strange bunch. A man with one mechanical arm, a woman whose gown was fully of holes almost as if...


Something hit him, and he wasn't sure how he'd missed it before. "You're all Supes too." He made it a statement instead of a question. "How did I miss that?" He asked himself, his voice suddenly low.


He moved the dreads behind his ears. He twirled them in his hands and flipped them into a crude knot behind him. His dreads were too thick for a hair tie, he'd perfected the art of tying his hair behind him long ago. He stood, and willed his legs to remain steady.


After some time he decided his injuries weren't any worse than they were after a particularly bad skateboarding spill. At the thought of skateboarding, his mind strayed to the seven year old who he met at the skatepark every day. Poor kid had a rough home life, he'd spent the last four months teaching him to skateboard. He wondered if the kid thought he'd bailed on him just like his dad had. He hoped not. He needed to get out, if for no other reason than to prove himself to the boy.


He paused and looked around to the group. "Okay then, what does everyone do?" He asked. "We need to figure a way out of here. Maybe we can put our skills together." He suggested. His eyes slid over to the group. He sighed, and straightened, irritation rolled over his features. He was too fucking tired and sore to deal with this bullshit. "Okay, fine, I'll go first." He paused. "I can't forget. Anything I've ever seen, heard, read...I remember it all." He didn't mention that he couldn't remember a damn thing about himself.