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Jamal/SCA Null Amina/SCA VoidAJ Fareva/Wither

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Ander Lowe/LIONNotti/Shine

Wither approached the ominous casket. The eerie green glow of her eyes and the tendrils of darkness extending towards the container were beyond her control. It was as if some unseen force was pulling her closer, and she couldn't resist its allure. Shine's voice pierced through the chaos in the bay, commanding her to fall back. She knew it was an order, but it was distant, like a faint echo in her mind. Wither couldn't tear her gaze away from the casket.

Whatever was inside held her in a strange grip. The young trainee was aware of the danger, but she couldn't help herself. It was as if her senses had been hijacked by whatever presence resided in the metal box. Panic coursed through her, but it was a distant sensation, overshadowed by the overwhelming curiosity and compulsion drawing her nearer. Shine's frantic actions, the distress signal on the comm link, were background noise to Wither. She was in a world of her own, entangled with the enigmatic being inside the casket. She felt a profound connection, like she was glimpsing into its very soul.

Specialty Case Agents Null and Void swiftly responded to the call, having recently left Ahmi in the rec room after paying Dr. Sterling a quick visit, but the inmate had been out cold upon arrival, so they decided to let Ahmi have some free time of her own for once. "Ahmi, sugar, stay put while we handle this," SCA Null instructed the young inmate. "And try to play nice." He gestured towards the inmates and guards in the yard, emphasizing the need for peace, before dashing to assist Shine and Wither.

Inside the casket, Aia stood, an enigmatic figure that defied human understanding. Her otherworldly appearance, the shifting red markings, the long tail, and sharp teeth, were a stark contrast to the world around her. Yet, there was an odd charm in her alien form, a peculiar cuteness that belied the potential danger. It was both terrifying and fascinating.

Wither approached the casket cautiously, her glowing green eyes fixed on the creature inside. She reached into a small pouch on her uniform and pulled out a cookie. Slowly and gently, she extended her hand, offering the cookie to the creature as a gesture of goodwill.

The strange, otherworldly being, Aia, regarded the cookie for a moment with her alien eyes. Her tail swayed slightly, and her red markings seemed to pulse as she assessed the situation. Then, in a swift and surprising move, she extended a delicate, clawed hand and plucked the cookie from Wither's offering.

Wither watched in awe as the creature took a bite of the cookie, its sharp teeth crunching down on the treat. Aia's expression remained enigmatic, but there was a hint of curiosity in her gaze. Shine, who had been holding her breath, let out a sigh of relief. It seemed that the cookie had established some form of rapport with the creature, at least for the moment. She hoped this would buy them some time until backup arrived and they could figure out how to deal with Aia safely.

Void, always poised and alert, inquired, "What's the situation?"

While Wither continued to offer the creature more cookies, Shine expressed her gratitude, "Snap, that was quick! We're knee-deep in it! Gotta wrangle this thing back in its cage."

Amidst this intense situation, Wither offered an unexpected observation, "It's actually kind of cute."

Void, always vigilant, looked the creature up and down and countered, "Until it bites your hand off."


Null, ever observant, noticed the breach in the containment box, where the chain had given way. The chain, made of a specially engineered alloy designed to withstand extreme stress, had been damaged during Aia's escape attempt. Without hesitation, Null's keen analytical mind sprang into action.

His fingertips danced with a subtle blue glow as he activated the intricate nano-technology embedded within his gloves. These nanobots were marvels of modern science, capable of manipulating matter at the molecular level. As they swarmed over the damaged chain, they began the meticulous process of repair.

Null, his attention divided between repairing the chain and keeping an eye on the creature, responded, "cute or not, we gotta wrangle this critter. Shine, sugah, you got any inklin' what this thing is?"

Shine shook her head, her gaze locked on Aia as Wither continued to feed her cookies. "No clue, Null. This ain't like anythin' I've laid eyes on before. We gotta tread real careful."

Void remained vigilant, her darkness swirling around her like a protective aura. "I agree. We can't underestimate it."

Wither empathized, "It's just scared and confused. Poor thing."

Shine glanced at Wither and whispered, "Keep her eye on the cookie!"

Wither continued, "Good girl, Aia. You like the cookie, huh?"

Aia, still holding the partially eaten cookie, made a low, almost purring sound, her red markings shifting in a mesmerizing dance along her skin.

Shine cautiously approached, keeping her eyes on the creature. "That's right, Aia. You just savor that cookie."

Wither continued to speak soothingly, "Yeah, we're your friends, Aia. We won't let anyone harm you."

"Especially not El-Cucuí over there," Shine added, referring to void.

"Keep away from it,"
Void warned, glaring at Shine's behind over the insult. "We do not have any idea what that creature is or what it is capable of."

Aia seemed to respond to their calming words, her tail swaying more rhythmically now as she nibbled on the cookie.


The repaired chain gleamed in the bay's harsh lighting, a testament to Null's mastery over advanced technology.

Once the repair was complete, Null gave the chain a careful tug to ensure its strength. Satisfied that it could now withstand tremendous force, he nodded to the team. "Chain's all patched up. It oughta hold, now."

Shine smiled in approval. "Nice hustle, playa."

Void, rolling her eyes, added, "Now, let's figure out a plan to get it back inside."

Wither, still offering cookies to Aia, chimed in, "Maybe we can lure it back in with more treats. It seems to like the cookies."

Aia, partially distracted by the treats, made another soft, purring sound, her tail swaying in response.

Shine nodded in agreement. "That might fly. Let's just keep her chill and see if we can nudge her back in."

Wither nodded, her attention fully focused on Aia as she offered another cookie from her pouch. "Here you go, sweetie. We're here to help."

As they continued to strategize and keep Aia occupied with cookies, Void, always the enigmatic one, began to gather her shadows around her quietly. She watched the creature, gauging the right moment. Then, in a sudden burst of shadowy tendrils, she enveloped Aia, who let out a surprised chirp as darkness swallowed her.

In an instant, Aia was transported back into the containment box, the shadows retracting as the door closed with an eerie, almost ethereal silence. The suddenness of the action left the rest of the team stunned, their expressions a mix of disapproval and disappointment.

Shine was the first to break the silence, her voice a mixture of surprise and chagrin. "Void, we were tryin' to ease her in, you ain't gotta—"

But Void cut her off, her tone unapologetic. "What? It's in the box, okay?"

Null sighed with relief, realizing that the situation had been resolved, regardless of how it was done. That creature sure rattled Void's nerves. Null, well, he'd crossed paths with plenty of oddities, ruffled his feathers none. Shine, she was kinda warming up to the critter. Wither, bless her heart, seemed downright keen on makin' friends with it. "Well, we done got her all locked up now. Let's pray she ain't too riled 'bout it."

Wither looked at the closed box and sighed, disappointed. "I guess that works too...."

Mr. Lion, always the stickler for punctuality, couldn't help but interject as the team stood around the now-contained casket. He cleared his throat with a hint of impatience and reminded everyone, "Debriefing in T-minus 15 minutes, Ladies and Gentlemen."

His reminder was met with a collective nod. While the situation was temporarily under control, their responsibilities remained.

Null, Void, Shine, and Wither collaborated to ensure that the steel box was securely sealed, and they wheeled Aia along with them to the debriefing. Null knew that the guards would be debriefed separately from the inmates, but he couldn't help but wonder if the creature could comprehend their proceedings in any way.

As they rolled the steel box towards the debriefing room, Wither couldn't help but glance at Void, who remained calm inside. "You think it understands what's happening?" she whispered to Void.

Void, her eyes never leaving Aia, replied, "Hard to say. It's unlike anything we've encountered before."

Null, pushing the box alongside Wither, chimed in, "Let's hope it don't stir up no trouble durin' the meeting."

Moments later, the group of guards made a brief stop at the rec room to pick up the Gunmother, Billy the Blight, Tamzin, and Renegade, joined by Nova Red and Deluge. Meanwhile, another team of guards was dispatched to collect the remaining inmates from Solitary confinement.
 
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BAI YUAN YUE
Some try to shut my mouth and say I should swallow this forbidden fruit

insanity depravity demolition
the vampire
the red views keep ripping the divide
panic switch
silversun pickups
mood: curious
location: belle reve, recreation area
interactions: Deluge ( BuggaBoo BuggaBoo )
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"Ahh, the light, it burns!" Yuan Yue cried dramatically, falling flat on her face. While she wouldn't disintegrate under sunlight, her eyes were sensitive and her skin burned easily. It wasn't uncommon for her to come back from the recreation area with patches of red covering her arms nor for her cell to be filled with balls of peeled skin days later. The guards seemed to take comfort in how easily she could be injured and how long it took for her to heal. Fragile from malnutrition and her natural enemy, she could see the joy in their eyes clear as day.

"Hey. What's good. I'm SCA Trainee, Deluge. Nice day to be outside huh? Right. Soooo can we chat it up? I'm up to meet n' greet out here. No games, for real, for real. Just gettin' to know our populace."

This man was likely no exception.

Lifting her head up, she glanced over the man who provided her with a sliver of shade. He was a lean sort with short hair, amber skin, and a semi-genuine smile. She slid her legs forward until her knees met her chest and rolled upward to meet his gaze.

"Are you a robot? A ghost? A lab rat?" Yue asked, tilting her head. "Usually they don't let normal people around me. They're afraid of the-"

She gestured towards the mask and gloves before plopping on her rear with her legs splayed out. "But you...you smell weird."

Perhaps because he's no ordinary human, a voice whispered in her mind's ear.

Ah, so he was here again. Glasya-Labolas (also known as Glassy), one of the presidents of Hell and her patron. He was a strange sort. Rather than some mind scarring beast, his form looked like a cross between a dog and a griffin. In his words, a cuter appearance would make conjurers feel more at ease but personally she thought he looked like a mutant.

"If he's not human than what is he?" Yue asked, either unaware or apathetic that she was speaking out loud.

Beats me, but he probably tastes great.

"Hu-hmmm. Hm. Hmm. Hmmm." She began tapping her fingers against the ground. Her stomach rumbled and her fangs ground against each other as she gazed at his neck, veins exposed beneath the uniform.

"So what's your type?"

© reveriee
 
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Not feeling like company, Sinead avoided the other inmates and found a corner devoid of life. She sat cross-legged with her back to the corner. She had never had much truck with meditation till...well, you know. But now, it held two purposes. One, it helped her calm down and not vent through her mouth on the next luckless sap to cross her. Two, it made for a good way to listen in. Her hearing was even better now she was some form of angel. One ability Ezrael didn't seem to hold on her when he felt like it. Focusing, she could catch a lot of the sounds from the rec room, even whispered conversations in the hall.
Sinead closed her eyes and let her head bow forward. A lovers quarrel on one of the tables. A magnetic dart hitting the board with a resounding silvery sound. The sickly yellow of a cough from another corner. The rich velvety sounds of a hood being dropped on someone's head. For a brief moment, she could see Caio in her mind's eye as he was led down a hall with a black bag over his head.
Her eyes shot open, but all she saw was blackness. She knew instantly where she was.
"Ezrael?" Sinead called into the void.
Eyes opened all around her, their sharp gaze no easier to bear than the first time she had been here.
"Was that you showing me something?" She continued, trying to ignore the other eyes as she focused on one in front of her.
"Who else?" The deep voice echoed in the void, a hint of annoyance in it.
"Cool trick." Sinead bit out, her encounter in the exercise yard leaving her with no patience for this twat. "You gonna be giving me these out of body experiences for kicks, or what?"
"Merely a...'heads up.'" Ezrael replied using a tone Sinead had never heard before from him.
Was he....pleased?
"The stage is being set, the pieces are being selected." The voice in the void continued. "Your trail by fire begins."
Sinead felt her blood run cold from that last sentence.
"Now wait a minute, boo doo." She stammered. "You sai-"
With a feeling of vertigo, Sinead found herself in the corner where she sat down. To outside observers, she seemed to start awake with a look of fear on her face.
"Merde!" The "angel" swore as she clutched her chest, feeling her heart race.
As she calmed, down the distinctive yellowish sound of guard boots and a lot of them reached her ears. She remembered the vision of Caio. Something was happening. Sinead got to her feet and headed for the doors into the yard. Just as she reached it, she saw the group of guards she heard head in with a purpose. She sidled up to a guard already in the room. This one had a starry name. Nova, wasn't it?
"Comment ca va?" Sinead said to Nova, her concern causing her to revert to a french greeting. "What's all this?"

Mentions: Aviator Aviator ISHTAR ISHTAR
Interactions: BuggaBoo BuggaBoo
 
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The walls didn't hold much interest to Keeley, cracked and yellowed as they were. Staring at walls was really the most entertaining thing he could come up with himself, just so he wouldn't go insane from boredom. Even outside, he felt trapped in his own mind. Being outside in solitary confinement meant a smaller space, a bigger reminder that yes, he was an inmate. What sucked even more was his weekly visits to Dr.Allister still continued, still dragged on, in spite of his internal protests. He'd just let the man drone on and on and on, flicking his eyes around the office. To make matters worse, he was now bound in handcuffs, guarded more carefully, and he would often stare at the handcuffs, as if trying to unlock it. He still felt drowsy after talking the pills that they had begun to give with water instead of food, but not as much because he spat it out when nobody was looking. The pills just dissolved quickly in his mouth, and some of the dreams he had in his drugged induced sleep were nightmares, once dreaming that he was drowning in blood, and then bleach. Needless to say, his quiet sobs wracked his body, his panting breaths coming on fast. It was how he responded to fear: curling up into a loud ball and hoping for the best. The nightmares, and boredom, and the fact that his friends had gotten the same treatment was enough that he only liked three things about solitary confinement: less muscle pain, uninterrupted long naps and what became his happy place.

It had started with mashed potatoes, and a plastic fork. The fork wasn't sharp, blunted because of the fork stabbing incident. He wasn't hungry, he never really built up an appetite. He didn't have Caio to give it to, either. Their beneficiary relationship temporarily broken. He looked at them more carefully, appraising the fork and the food, and lifted the fork. He ran the codes through his mind, swearing he could hear the electronic sounds. His muscle memory would be a little rusty, but he'd practice. He knew to start with C++, as it was the hardest, and the last one he'd learned, so the one he knew the worst. What program should he write? He tapped the fork, until he finally found one. How to find compound interest. He got started, knowing what the beginning of the code was, at least. Whenever he made a mistake, he'd just score it over with the fork and start over. As he went along, he made fewer mistakes. It was like learning a language after stopping. It was familiar, so easier to pick back up. He did the same with Javascript, and then Python, happier and happier. He was near a computer, in a sense, the thing he loved the most.

Every time, though, after a meal, Keeley would erase his work. It felt private somehow, an invasion of his personal space, if he showed someone. He'd score over his work, eat the evidence and muddy the waters, and then would return the tray through the door. He'd wipe off his face, and then would settle down. Every time he thought about it though, he'd feel even more bored. He'd been reminded of what he'd love, and then he'd give it away unwillingly. The only other time he'd feel happy was when he was freed from the meetings with Dr.Allister, that usually progressed at a snail's crawl. Or at least, he felt that way, until he'd make the mistake of not scoring over his work. In this way, he was letting someone else into his private little world, someone he didn't want to let in: a guard. Inmates he was more likely to let in willingly, especially those he already knew. Either that, or it'd have to be an emergency. And in that moment, it wasn't an emergency.

On that day, the guard was graying, older, and it was he who'd brought the tray over, so he'd have to collect it. The food this time was oatmeal, and it was breakfast. It was a spoon, and Keeley could still write with it. He did so, starting portions of Javascript, C++ and Python. He ran it through in his head to make sure it was correct, and scored it over with his spoon whenever he made a mistake. His handwriting that day had been very neat, and maybe he'd been so invested, but he'd forgotten to score it over, and he handed the tray back to the greying guard before he'd realized his mistake, but it was too late. Keeley's eyes alighted with panic, like he'd gotten into a swimming pool. This was significant for two reasons. One, he was afraid of drowning in water. It was why he'd been nervous to swim in the first place, so he never tried it. Two, his endurance and athletic ability were zero. This meant that it's not that Keeley was a bad swimmer, but that he didn't possess the skills to swim.
 














Tamzin




Mood: Concerned

Location: Belle Reve

Interactions: Billy






Minty green eyes practically glowed with delight as Tamzin spotted her dear friend Billy through the crowd on the other side of the rec room. Her joy faltered however when she noticed the look on his face, even without her abilities she could tell something had happened. Subconsciously the blonde put her hand into the pocket of her jump suit and drew her fingers across the slightly crumbled baked good she had been holding onto since lunch. She had grabbed it for Billy, she almost always tried to share things she loved with him, especially when they were new to her. Cookies however weren’t new but were certainly much beloved and as she drew closer to her dear friend she hoped the crumbly flour and chocolate disk would help him even the slightest bit. Times like these were ones in which she desperately wished she could access her abilities so she could understand how to best help Billy and even feel how he feels. That was how her people were, they knew each other to their core and thus were able to help one another the moment things went wrong. That wasn’t the case with other species as Tamzin had learned in her time and it certainly wasn’t the case with humans, one of the newest species to her but also one of her favorites.

Shuffling closer to Billy, Tamzin glanced at the guard beside him and nodded her head in greeting. The guard gave her a look as though assessing if the blonde was there to make matters worse or not. After a few heartbeats the guard stepped back and made room for Tamzin to draw closer. “Billy?” The blonde spoke in a soft almost ethereal voice as she knelt down beside the dark haired figure in the chair. “Billy?” She repeated but her friend still seemed to be staring blankly into the world before him. Her heart tore to pieces within her as she studied him, able to sense his pain even without her powers but unable to understand what she could possibly do to make it better. Slowly she reached into her pocket, aware that the guard was watching her and not wanting to come across as being a threat. “I…I got you a present Billy.” She pulled the poorly napkin wrapped cookie out of her pocket as she spoke and pulled the corners of the thin napkin apart. “It is the chocolate chippy type…they haven’t had them in a long while.” Her words were gentle as she delicately placed the cookie on his lap.

Once the chocolate chip cookie was securely on the young mans lower thigh Tamzin returned her gaze to his face, her eyes peering at him through the platinum curtain of hair that hid a good amount of her features. Pushing her thick locks behind her ears and shoulders she smiled up at him in the hopes that the smile might help Billy realize he wasn’t alone despite whatever he was going through. As her cheeks rose into the smile the movement made her wince a bit but Tamzin hid the pain well. She did her absolute best to ignore the tenderness along the side of her cheek where a bruise had formed and now sat as a mixture of dark hues. The bruise was still fresh, only a day or so old, and formed in the clear imprint pattern of a backhand. The dark circle of a ring imprint on the lower part of her cheek made it clear that the guard responsible was Bernard, better known as The Butcher. Bernard was a hot tempered guard who was well known for letting out his personal issues on the prisoners, going as far as putting them in the ICU from time to time. Tamzin had witnessed the unfortunate display of his rage towards an improperly medicated prisoner during breakfast the day prior and unable to stand by and watch, she intervened. The Butcher took no issue in redirecting his rage on her and thus the blonde’s physical form now housed several harsh reminders of what heroics such as that would earn her. Despite it all Tamzin did not regret doing what she did, just as she did not regret stealing the cookie she now offered to Billy now.

ISHTAR ISHTAR






code by Stardust Galaxy
 
tw: threats of violence, dissociation, disorientation, drug side effects


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WILLIAM BLACKBURN / BILLY THE BLIGHT
Billy sat there frozen, in shock over losing his connection to his only friends. His world had been ripped apart, leaving him feeling utterly alone. At first, he was too withdrawn to notice the guard or even Tamzin, who had knelt beside him. His mind was a whirlwind of despair and confusion.

However, when Tamzin set the cookie in his lap, his senses sharpened. The aroma of the chocolate chippy delight hit his nose, and his mouth watered involuntarily. He was so hungry... Tamzin's kindness was like a lifeline in the darkness that had engulfed him.

Slowly, he looked up past his disheveled bangs. Tamzin's face, framed by her platinum hair, was like the sun breaking through a dark and stormy sky. Her presence, her smile, it all flooded him with a strange mix of emotions—gratitude, warmth, and a glimmer of hope.

Then, his eyes drifted down to notice the bruise on Tamzin's cheek, and a pang of rage surged through him like a bolt of lightning. His initial shock gave way torage. Gently, he lifted a shaky hand, fingers brushing against the bruise with the utmost care, so as not to hurt her.

His voice, filled with quiet fury, seethed, "Who did it? I'll kill them."

Billy carefully split the cookie in two, pushing one half toward her. His gaze lingered on her bruised cheek, a surge of protective anger and compassion welling up within him.

But before he could utter a word, Jo, the guard, intervened. "Sorry to break up the moment, but it's time to go, you two."

As Jo rolled him away in the chair, Billy wasted no time as he devoured his half of the cookie in a single, sweet, ravenous bite, a fleeting moment of respite from hunger. At least she hadn't strapped him back in. However, underneath, a simmering anger brewed. As he swallowed the last morsel, a burning desire for revenge smoldered within him. He couldn't stand to see his friend hurt. Someone had to pay for what had been done.

Sanctuaryforall1 Sanctuaryforall1






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DR. ELARA STERLING / NEXA

Elara huddled in the cold, dark cell, her body curled up in a fetal position as she sought some form of comfort. The chill in the air made her shiver uncontrollably, and she longed for the presence of Nexa. They had been inseparable in the laboratory where they had endured unspeakable experiments. But when had she started to think of herself and Nexa as "they"? It was as though Nexa, a conglomeration of countless interdimensional voices, was beginning to influence her.

The voices in her head were scattered, fragmented. "Nexa" couldn't break through anymore. Instead, there were thousands of mutterings, a cacophony of disjointed thoughts that reverberated within her skull. Elara could only make out a word or two amidst the chaos, and most of the time, she pleaded with them to be quiet. The disconnection, the sheer chaos of it all, felt like her mind was unraveling, breaking into a thousand jagged pieces. She was drowning in this maddening turmoil, desperately clinging to the last shreds of her sanity.

A nagging doubt gnawed at her—had she already gone mad, and was this just a state of denial? Dr. Sky, a beacon of comfort and familiarity in the abyss of her torment, was a distant memory now. Elara couldn't even conjure up the image of her face. She had no photographs, only sketches in her journal, drawn from fading memories. Overwhelmed by a profound sense of loss and isolation, Elara wept, her tears merging with the relentless darkness that surrounded her.

Suddenly, strong hands gripped her, and she was hoisted up and out of her cell. Her body felt heavy, and her senses were dulled, making her groggy and disoriented. As they began to move her down the dimly lit corridor, Elara couldn't help but voice her confusion, her words slurred and weary.

"Where are we going?" she mumbled, her voice barely audible in the cold, sterile surroundings. But the guards remained silent, offering no explanation or reassurance, and the sense of foreboding only grew stronger as they continued their relentless march through the facility.
 
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Nova Red and Deluge, with Yue




Earliier...


Renegade - "Are you a robot? A ghost? A lab rat?" Yue asked, tilting her head. "Usually they don't let normal people around me. They'rffe afraid of the-"

The young Trainee couldn't help but smile despite the nervousness that churned in his belly. In not even 5 seconds time he learned 3 things about this situation:

1 - Nova Red was right about this inmate being broken goods made of cruelty; he wasn't as sensitive as his sister and especially no nowhere near the astounding 'reading' abilities of Agent Shine, but his eyes could not help but flicker that iridescent green momentarily when Renegade pressed her presence forward; perhaps he suspected right away that she was more than a sanguine vampiric type...

2 - the nonsensical line of questioning that served as Renegades first responses right off the bat was something that his sister would say to be ironic or just a non-sequitur kind of retort; Del could not help but like her right off the bat for some reason. The young man could not help but shield the inmate a bit more from the sun because of that,

3 - after meeting her in the flesh he realized he was jealous. Not of her situation but jealous of the fact she was famous for pulling off what she did. He himself had tried to pull off some noteworthy criminal acts but nothing stuck to his rep nor gave him more street cred. Hell, he was not even going to be a footnote in any significant darkweb story. Still, it would be a lie to say he was not feeling a bit star-struck by meeting the face that replaced the face of the Disaster Girl meme in the forums of which he participated.

He called her out by her serial then, "
Eyo, inmate, I ain't no normie. Not some... Numba or Numbie--'' he decided to use the jargon and sound cool but instantly she fell to the ground.

His first instinct was to look around to see if anyone had been watching and accuse him of abuse, but that Southern drawl lit up his mind's ears; '
Too eager. Lock and Load. Senses and Smarts...'

A quick reassuring nod, a breath, then he was watching her and taking in what he could from periphery. Sounds were still the same, no approaching, no fleeing and no yelling. Eyes on the inmate looking for possible signs of aggression or pulling an item. His mind did a quick scan for possible outcomes. Dirt in his eyes, luring him in, signalling another. He noted those dangers and subconsciously stepped laterally to let the sun shine upon her.

Renegade said:
"But you...you smell weird."

A witty yet acerbic response that only an annoying little brother could have readied in the chamber with hammer cocked to fire fell way to better judgement. He merely smirked.

A lone eyebrow raised. A tilt of the head. Finally an upward chinbob signalling for her to continue,


Renegade said:
"If he's not human than what is he?"

And it was a good thing he waited for he was not ready for her instant internal combustion. Not only did Renegade become suddenly different but so did he. Immediately his eyes lit up, glowing green, the urge to complete a Soul Deluge was nigh impossible to deny. His assumptions were right, she was more than just a sanguine vampire breaking and drinking blood. She was Supernatural charged; she was a lifeforce drinker. There was one that she had consumed inside her-- or was it the other way around?! Shine had to know more about this than what was on the dossier.

Whatever it was that lived-- or festered-- in her, his response was sudden and automatic. Light. It. Up.

It must be on the opposite end of his 'way.' Wither was opposite him but they were of the same token; ying and yang. This other in Renegade... just accursed. Or even just a curse.

Renegade said:
"Hu-hmmm. Hm. Hmm. Hmmm." She began tapping her fingers against the ground. Her stomach rumbled and her fangs ground against each other as she gazed at his neck, veins exposed beneath the uniform.

In this moment, the awe of meeting a celebrity and succeeding in this job to complete his life's turnaround for the better, took a seat far back-- far, far, far, far, far back, gagged and chained at the back of the bus. Whatever happened next, whatever he did, he would follow his instincts. Nova writing a big fat 'F' on his eval could take a big fat flying F right now for all he cared. Oh, how he wished she went for a weapon or unleashed some kind of Sanguine or Vampiric attack on him. White stripes began to streak slowly from his scalp across his hair, his skin become a ghostly shade of pale. The spectral iridescent green light burned even brighter neath that ever increasing scowl.

Renegade said:
"So what's your type?"

The green fire sizzled out and he laughed as if nothing had happened at all.

''Only one type for me, Renegade,'' he shook his head in amazement and embarrassment, ''the type that looks good on my arm on a night out; I'm... O-positive about that. Hahahahha... Why you wanna take me to dinner? Maybe you can fix us a couple drinks, Rennie? Can I call you Rennie, or do you prefer Rene? How about 'Gadie...?''

Slow clapping. And of course; *Giggles* ''Hoo boy! Almost had us quite the light show, there Trainee Deluge. What set you off and what made you stop?"'

Without taking his eyes off of Renegade, he called back over his shoulder, '
'There is a monster inside her... something worse than she herself. It needed to... to see that I know it's there...? Yeah, that Agent,'' he was talking to Nova but made it clear with his eyes emphasizing he was not playing around despite sounding unsure of his answer, ''that and you talked to us in lecture hall about 'effective show of force' and all that...''

'
'She don't care none in the end, Deli-del but I getcha. And why you stop so dead quick, feller?''

This time he directed his voice and attention towards Renegade, ''I stopped cuz of another thing you taught us outside lecture hall, Agent... y'know sometimes it's better to make friend with that which you hate or fear the most and learn to be better and bring them with you.

"No one wants her as a Specialty Case. Too much of a headache, right? Wonder what woulda' happened if I had someone follow those words and take me on several years ago. Could I be better off than where I am today...?

"When I become a fully recognized Agent, I'd like-- if this inmate wishes-- I'd like to supervise for her. I'd like to take her on as my first Specialty Case, Agent Nova Red.''


''Duly noted and I'll put in a rec form for y'all. You passed a tough interview, Trainee. On the spot, on the fly and I saw you work your Senses and Smarts. There's more eval I gotta do, but boy, you on your way. Nicely done trainee. Now hold tight I gots to take this...

"Hello..., this is Agent Nova Red... DeeDee...! What's the news on the good foot, sugar...?'
'

Deluge sighed and held a hand out for Renegade to take.


''Yo, lady, like I said, just a meet n' greet. No games. Now you know what kinda' human you messin' with. Still up for that drink? What do you do like Bloody Mary, stirred not shaken, body temp and hold the Mary? Hahahahah...

"Eyyyyy, c'mon it's okay to laugh. Just don't kick. I already got my quota from my sis today already. Soooooo... kryptonic bomb, huh? Who you messin wit back then? You talkin with Mandible or like you had someone inside on Wayne or Lex Corp...?

"Our outfit traded large to get ours from this weirdo in this Canadian 'R&D' facility offa the darkweb. I was part of 'The Circle of Vengeance...' Ya heard, right? Aaaaaannnnyways... oh yo! Can I get a selfie? Bruh my homies gunna skeet themselves... I got a pic with THE DISASTER-ER GIRL!! Say: Doooooooood,YEEEE!!"


"Alright, fanboi' Nova tapped him roughly on the shoulder, "Thinkin she got enough outta your for more than a full lifetime" *Guggles*

Deluge backed off and nodded sheepishly.

"Kay listen up. Agent D is gonna rendezvous with you and you will lead Bloodbag here to our meet point. From there we will on mozy on off to Sleepy Hollows and see what's good and get the what for. Clear?"

"All due respect, Agent, she ain't a Bloodbag... she... she just 'Ms. Understood' is all. And yes, crystal, Agent Nova Red."

"Fair enough. *Giggles* But y'all ain't Specker yet, son. But duly noted. Duly noted. Now ready inmate for immediate transport, mista."

"On it yesterday, Agent."

"There's my boy. Pitter patter let's get at her...!"





Nova, Some VPA guards with Kenna




Much earlier that day...


The gates to the cell swung open. The brunette in the cell was half on the floor and half oin the cot and as always played lame duck. The blonde entering the cell was smiling as always and up for the ruse.

A pulse of red thrummed at the blonde's fist, intense amounts of heat rippling away, lighting up her pale face with murderous intent,
''Git ya ass up. No games, lil' lady else your lil' friends in the window gonna gits more than just a sunburn. Git up I said!''

The plasma bolt launched across the room and scorched the ends of the inmates lovingly brushed hair, puncturing a smoking divot into the concrete below. That hated smell of singed hair permeated the air and Nova Red readied another bolt in her hand.

''Now listen up, sucky-time face...'' <<¬Message begings. Relaying info, not much time...~>>

''Seems like you may be getting some time away from the cell. Maybe some outside time. You up for that?'' 'Seems like' was important, 'Up for that' too. The rest was filler. <<¬100%. Time to get ready.>>

''You better play nice too. Mama be watchin you. Need to make a little circle o' friends just for you so you best keep your hands to yourself and eyes low... <<~On your side. Bosses/Guards at the lead. Team will be waiting for you.~>>

''You better be listening. Real close... Don't you look at me that way!!'' <<¬coming to you. Dropping something on you...~>> the rest was a reason to attack Basilisk. Nova rushed her and telegraphed a punch. After the tussle was over, she had Kenna pinned on the ground in a painful cross face lock.

''You listening now ain't ya... guess ya better learn ya self some manners. Better way to get to know into a little circle of scummy holed whore inmate playmates like y'all could ever amount to. I'm done with you.' <<¬Pay attention... it's their rules. These are the names of your team. That is all I have.

''With this attitude, you just earned yourself cool off time. You ever make it in the world, maybe next time you find some better friends. So play nice with me..." Filler. All of it save the italicized part was a code just between the two and not the network of spies and saboteurs of whuich they were privy. <<¬You'll have a chance out there to make contact with allies or contacts. I got your back.~>>

Nova Red undid the grappling lock and stood. Her boot kicked Kenna's foot hard to get her attention.

''I came her to offer you some outside time and you can only offer me that sneering uppity bitch face. I'm tryin to help you, Bazzie... hope you understand that. Well, understand this--''

Between two fingertips red ignited and sizzled the air. Suddenly the plasma bolt launched. Absolutely obliterated was a pot on the window sill.

''There's more where that came from. And next time it won't be a stupid little jar I aim for and explode... I wanna see an attitude adjustment when I return. Okay? LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M SPEAKING, YOU SNAKE BITCH!!"

A wink. Oh, how Nova loved the theatrics of it all. Especially when props were involved; The container was absolutely decimated. The plant itself, however albeit flat on the floor and its roots exposed, was still alive. And the tussle?

Nova had planted a note titled; Counter Assets Assembly and a list of all the names of the 'recruited' including aliases and serials. Also was an eta of departure and a standing request for some other inside help if she needed help contacting the outside. An account number, PIN and little shiny chip of an ATM card. And a little PS; 'What kind of pot you want for your new one?' Oh and a razor blade for emergency situations. Victorine knew Kenna was an improviser.


"That's better. Now clean up this mess. It better be so clean that I can see my gorgeous face in the shine. Enjoy your time till then. Don't miss me too much..."

She blew a kiss to her old comrade and contact. It would be a lie to say she hated messing up her ol' Chummy-Chum's hair; she hated anyone who had even more natural flow and bounce to their locks than she. Only one could be crowned as fairest of them all afterall.

She nodded to the VPAs and they said the gate open for her to leave.






Nova, Deluge, Agent D and her VPA posse, with Sinead and Yue




Right after the kerfuffle with Renegade and Deluge...


"Comment ca va?"

"Moi, ca va bien. Mais la situation ci, meh, ne marcher pas absolument pour tous les gens, non?" *glousse*
<<"I'm fine. But this situation, meh, doesn't abso-positively work for everyone, right?" *giggles*>>

Blue eyes of the guard dazzled as she regarded the diminutive metahuman's cherub face; she was always stoked to brush up on her French with another. Especially one with a true French accent. An upward chin nod she tossed Sinead.

"Et toi, Mlle. Angelique...? Ca va? J'ai ecoute il y a une place speciale pour toi,"
<<And you, Miss Angelique...? How are you? I heard there is a special place for you,>>

Nova gestured to the Renegade getting paraded away, Deluge puffing out his chest proudly as he looped an arm with the Vampire. She had her reservation with just how buddy-buddy his approach was, but everyone had their own style and he could grow into his own. Every good cop/ bad cop play needed a genuine good cop every so often,

"La Warden veut vos services et compétences, elle. Et ce n'est pas une demande polie seulement. Ma choue... C'est ca volante."
<<The Warden wants your services and skills. And it's not only a polite request. Sweetheart... It's her will.>>

It was a level and tense look she gave Sinead. In this moment, she would either come quietly or gagged and dragged like so many others. This was her one and only fond offer and stern warning to another of her Specialty Cases.

"Es-tu prete, Mlle. ma chou-chou? Oh mais ne fatigues pas ta jolie petite tête, d'accord? *Glousse* Il y a des autres qui Mme. Hollows doit avoir pour le travaille aussi."
<<Are you ready, sweetie? Oh, but don't stress your pretty little head, okay? *Giggles* There are others who Ms. Hollows need for work as well.>>

One hand gently splayed out and made a sweeping motion. If Sinead did not give in now, Nova was well within shock then drop range. Her other hand splayed out on her chest. Blue eyes fluttered just like an innocent little girl buttering up on-lookers.

"Nous, nous venons juste de collecter des gens pour La Warden. Eh biennnnn, il faut que tu jouerai doucement avec tes amis nouvelles..."
<<Us, we are just collectin' people for the Warden. Soooo... it's necessary that you play nicely with your new friends..."

Whether or not Sinead was conscious or drooling on the floor now, Nova would be cuffing the little Earth-Angel gently or with one boot on the back of her neck.

"Penses-tu, toi, c'est possible qu'on peut faire ca pour moi, Mlle Angelique, s'il te plaaaaaaais? Je te donnerai un biscuit?" *Glousse*
<<Y'all think it's possible that someone can do that for me, Miss Angellic pleeeeeease? I'll give you a cookie?>> *Giggles*

Lush red lips pressed dangerously near Sinead's lobe, hot breath tickling the other woman's inner ear. A cookie popped up right beside the lips of the diminutive metahuman; it was the same amazingly flavoured and airy, soft textured cookie as the one with which Wither had tempted Aia.

All she had to do was bite and everything would be abso-positively a-okay...






Nova Red, Deluge, Agent D and her team, with Yue, Sinead and Kenna.




Current time...

Once more the gate opened up. The brunette half on the floor and half on the cot. This time however, Sinead was accompanying the guards outside Kenna's cell, hands shackled behind her back and nicely collared, literally.

"That's Basilisk. Bazzie, stand your scrawny ass up... NOW!! No games, lil' missy!" both hands heated up all nearby items and pulsated angrily and readily.

"Elle n'ecoute pas tres bien... elle doit... *Giggles* des incitations... eh bien, Mme. Imposteuse... leves-toi. Je sais que tu me comprends... Leves MAINTENANT!!"
<<She don't listen very well... she needs... 'incentives...' alright, Miss Faker... get up. I know you understand me... Up NOW!!>>
a red bolt fired and singed more of that luxurious tawny flow of wonderful better-than-Victorine-LaFontaine's locks.

"There, there... oh la-la, pauvre bebe, did I wake someone's beauty sleep? *Giggles* Enough. Get y'ass up, girlie. Been a change of plans, seems like Warden gotta little something to ask of you. When Warden asks it usually mean there is no room for the word 'no' anywhere in your answer."

The red bolts ceased to exist and Nova pulled out a pair of cuffs. She dangled and swung them from side to side as if coaxing the other woman to wear it. But in actuality she was waiting for confirmation code of Kenna's intent when she got outside.

"Gagged and dragged or you be nice like and saunter your ass all friendly and unsinged to where we going... Your choice, Bazzie."

Again she paused then smirked at Kenna's answers. A simple nod. There would be time to talk later when Kenna would be leaving this hellhole with the rest of the Counter Assets Assembly.

"Fine. Your wish is my command. Alrighty boys... some assists. We are taking her to her next destination..."

When it was all said and done, Deluge, Agent D and the rest of her posse met her at the rendezvous. The blonde cleared her throat and promptly set diminutive Kenna in beside little Sinead and loopy Yue, "Alllllrighty then, gals... Miss Angellic... Ms. Understood... Ms. Bazzie...? Meet Trainee Agent Deluge, and you already know Agent D and her VPA squad. Now, Ms. Bazzie... Ms. Understood... Miss Angellic...? Meet each other.

"Now say hi and play nice, like lil' ladies should... that's it...

""Kay fellers... let's high tail it back to Granny's house..."


One of the other VPA guards moo'ed and they were off.










 
Last edited:




Ahvelina , Agent D, Deluge, with Yue




Earlier...


Well this sucked. The plump orange sun was definitely showing off her best, full-on radiant smile, beaming down her warm blessings but of course Ahvelina was still out of it drugged and incoherent. Her long time ago bud, Null (and previously listed contact on her phone as; MainManFuzzy_01) and the boil on his ass, Co-Agent Cackles had plopped her off here in the Yard. Okay, that a was nice touch to just entrust her to her own devices and leave her by her lonesome. No really, she felt like they was still tight because of that; he trusted her to play all friendly like with the animals that roamed the Belle Reve Jungles.

But then, of course angry-Angie Co-Agent Ass-Parter D had come along, strapped her up again and put the black bag back on her head... for safety reasons.

“Sit. Stay. Good, girl. I’mma be right back. But yo. Listen inmate… stay in line, stay in your lane and stay icy. But if you don’t wanna play nice; you gonna pay with pain currency. Hella lots. Now be good…”


Lovely. And now there was a bunch of bonafide unwitting assholic victims, cat calling her and threatening to do things to her while she could not fight back. Damn... it was sooooooo effin' hard to Focus but the darkness of the hood was helping... soooooo sure.. She was up for breaking some pervs necks and other lovely assortments of joints with just her legs and feet. Yet again. It had been a good minute since her last batch of unwitting assholic victims got choked out by the power invested in those GunMother's thighs.

Welp, no time like the present to get this little bone shattering kerfuffle started then, right...?

'Nah, you just jelly bitches... my dick's bigger than yours and it satisfies your mommies with just the tip.' Yeah, those were fighting words alright.


...except her throat was parched and her mouth was mush.

"Nnnhrrrlbbbbb... mmmdmmbgg... ssstsphhhh mmmmm wuhzz... ip." she had actually murmurred. And oh yeah, she was muzzled too. Well this sucked.


No fights, no erasing scrubs and now...

*GIGGLES!*


Despite the effects of the irradiated narcotics in Ahvi's system, she still let out a full-bodied electric shock of a cringe shiver. Ewwwwwww... that sound... it was ewwwwww... it sounded just like...

*GIGGLES!!*


For the love of the holiest of holes, make it stop please... I don't think I can take another--

"GIGGLES!!!*


The big woman dry heaved. The sounds carried despite the dual layered surface obscurement muffling her voice. No doubt about it. That was Meltdown's eardrum-rupturing laugh. Victorine LaFontaine.

It just got you right there... like your crotch and uterus seized up then spasmed, then seized, then spasmed again and again. And this would be more painful than any menstrual cramps and last for hours. Like good luck tryna pee, folks. Listen... poor pregnant women exposed to this banshee's wail? Eyo such an abomination of the natural world would undoubtedly be forever scarring and give ptsd for their unborn child well into adulthood. She must be truly tripping balls to still have that... that insipid screech invade her mind and all her senses with the full force of explosive diarrhea.


Several shaky breaths she took in and several ragged exhales she let out. Then she held her breath. A heartbeat longer. A full exhale of relief. The bad trip had passed, the demon exorcized from her mind hopefully for the last time. Not going to miss anything about that High-Heeled Daemon. At all.

Slowly a lone eyebrow raised, pulling up a devilish smirk along with it. Well there was one thing she did miss about that red-splattering bitch Ms. Jiggles. Actually a pair of things that did all that jiggling when she laughed.

Ahvi found her hands greedily squeezing air, then actually they did end up squeezing something. It felt like rare alloyed armour--

BUUUUUUZZZZTTTTT!!


Next thing she knew she was being dragged roughly on the ground, liquid fire rushed her innards. Like a storm surge it flooded and lit up every nerve ending and synapse in a way only an EMP shock treatment collar could.

"Touch me again, inmate and I'll punch holes through you."

The Trainee Deluge and his hopefully soon-to-be Specialty Case, Renegade, would bear witness to the big, inked-up, black-hooded woman get rewarded with yet another life-questioning zap. This one lasting seconds longer.

"Alright. Enough of this la-dee-dah-ing. I'm back. Assist L, Grab that thing and let's move. Yo, Rookie! You are on me. End convo. Now, Deluge...! Eyo listen up, son, I'm your mommy now. Nova Red's orders. And bring Bloodbag with you. You gonna' learn how to tag and bag for inmate remand… but today? Today is a special kind of Remand.”

Deluge was about to correct the good VPA lead, Agent D with the newly bestowed nickname of; ‘Ms. Understood’ but instinct told him that this was not the time nor place to do it. This armour-clad jarhead’s tolerance for fools, it has been argued, was as big as the chances an amoeba had a degree in physics; just didn’t exist.

"That's right, folks. We are going on a special field trip. And don't worry you won't need mommies permission slip for this one. She ain't comin to getcha after this is all said and done..."


Once more a pair of imposing VPAs treated Ahvi like a giant ragdoll and half-dragged her away from the Yard. But through the fog thick made up of the soupy screaming echoes of pain and the wet, soggy blanket of intoxication, a singular burning thought rocketed through and smacked her right on the middle of the forehead just before she passed out again.

She knew who Agent D was under all that armour.

’Punching holes.’ La-dee-dah-ing. And the clincher; The VPA Lead had called her 'Ahvelina' in the shower room. So far, no one here knew her by anything other than the GunMother here in Belle Reve.

She called out to this masked spec-ops guard by name.

"Uhfffrrrbbbbffrrr..." was what she mewled. Then promptly passed out.


But her final thoughts before succumbing to the viscous black of her mind was that she knew this person. She was dead certain.

All those words the guard had said to Ahvi prior to this time was the last time they were in bed together.





Mentions: Steve Jobs Steve Jobs




 














Sidon




Mood: ...

Location: Belle Reve

Interactions: Novak, Keeley






There were days that came in this job that Sidon wondered why he had taken it to begin with. He was a fighter, a man who sought justice and wanted to do what was right, that was far from the case for many of his colleagues. Of course, Sidon was never a pushover. While he might be up there in years he was still fit and ready to take on whatever life threw at him, always prepared to square up or throw down depending on the situation he found himself in. Anyone who thought he needed to start considering retirement clearly didn’t know him well because Sidon was damn sure he would keep his fists in the fight until the day Death came to walk him home. Still, there were a few fools among the guards who viewed him as nothing more than an old timer, those same fools were often the ones who viewed the prisoners as playthings. That shit didn’t fly with Sidon.

Having heard about what happened in the outside rec area Sidon took some time to pay a visit to the security room where cameras watched every inch of the prison. It was there that the old man witnessed what exactly had occurred during the day's chaotic events and what he saw made his blood boil. He knew good and well that the prisoners here weren’t saints but that didn’t mean they deserved to be treated the way Novak viewed that they should. Returning the footage to where he found it Sidon got to his feet and made his way towards the guard's locker room. After a beating like that, he had no doubt that Novak would have sought medical attention then hit the showers to clean himself up. Swinging the metal door to the men's locker room open the gray-haired male strolled through the rows of tall metal lockers that each had a last name engraved on it. The air was thick with moisture as the showers towards the back of the locker room were clearly running hot and Sidon could hear the familiar grunt of Novak just ahead of him. “Heard you got into a scuffle today?” Sidon greeted casually as he drew closer to the shower where Novak was washing some blood out of his short hair.

“Bastard will get what’s coming to him.” The bruised guard growled, his voice rasping a bit and Sidon picked up the marks around his throat. Ciao had held his own well enough during the fight from what Sidon had witnessed in the video and the marks clearly showed now.

“That’s the funny thing about bastards, they often get what’s coming to them but they seldom realize what IT is in the first place.” The old man chuckled and had his hands resting on his hips almost casually. Novak turned to face Sidon with a cocky smirk on his face, clearly believing the elder guard to be on his side. That smirk instantly shifted into a twisted expression of shock and pain as Sidon’s fist struck out hard and fast, landing a firm blow to the area just above Novak’s kidneys. The blow was well placed so that it caused Novak to buckle over without being an actually fatal kidney punch. Sidon glared down at his fellow guard with blue fire burning in his eyes as he reached down and picked Novak up by the jaw and upper neck. “I don’t quite care for the manner in which you operate.” He growled and slammed the floundering man back into the tile wall. “So I suggest you reconsider the way you approach your job in the future.” His voice was a low snarl as the hot water from the shower blasted down on them and sent beads of water trailing down Sidon’s face. “Understood?” He hissed as he tightened his grip on Novak’s neck and jaw, adding to the injuries that already existed in the man's flesh. When Novak choked out a desperate confirmation Sidon tossed him to the ground and turned to exit the showers. As he departed a soft glow was just visible beneath his shirt as the tattoo across his back summoned the water on and around him towards it, storing it for later and drying his hair and clothes in just a few seconds.

Returning to work as casually as if he were simply coming back from a lunch break Sidon noted where he was stationed to be and moved off to gather a tray of food for Keeley. When he arrived at the solitary confinement cell for the notorious computer genius Sidon bent down and slid the food through the slot in the door where Keeley took it eagerly. Taking up his post just outside the cell the old man went about his routine, checking in on the prisoner, patrolling the hall, relaying orders and confirmations over the guard's communication system. When a little ding of the tray hitting the door alerted him to Keeley having finished the meal Sidon approached, following the safety protocols put in place, and retrieved the tray. As he held it the gray-haired guard glanced down to make sure Keeley had eaten only to find things written in the food. He was trying to understand what any of it said when he glanced through the viewing window of the door and noticed Keeley panicking within. “Woah there, calm yourself, Keeley.” Sidon called through the door. “What seems to be the issue? These scribbles here?” He asked trying to understand what had the prisoner so worked up and wanting to make sure nothing escalated to the point that Keeley hurt himself.

Ashy_OCdesigns Ashy_OCdesigns






code by Stardust Galaxy
 
“Woah there, calm yourself, Keeley.” Sidon called through the door. “What seems to be the issue?" Keeley wasn't completely calm, but Sidon's words did have an effect. What calmed him down was the fact that the greying guard was willing to hear him out, a rarity and a privilege here at Bella Reve. He had struck the lottery in terms of who was going to collect his tray, especially since the man knew his name. Sidon had no clue what was written there, in the way he asked: "These scribbles here?” Either Keeley's handwriting was still quite messy, and/or Sidon didn't know he was he was looking at computer code. Both thoughts comforted him, and he calmed down visibly, although still on edge, his arms auburn from his arm hair standing on edge, but now beginning to lie flat. Sidon was still holding his tray, and it was then that Keeley noticed how chafed the man's knuckles were, with a little bit of bruising, like he'd just beat someone up. Keeley prayed, hoping that it was perhaps Novak, and not an inmate. His eyes lingered there, and he pressed his lips together, weighing his next reply on the tip of his tongue. He was about to say something like "None of your business." Or even nothing at all when he thought about it. He had detected no snide cruelty in the man's voice, and Sidon had called him by his name. He decided on a new response entirely.
"It's private." He sounded stilted, awkward. He didn't say that what he wrote made him feel safe, that it was computer code. He didn't say more, just crawled forward, to take it back, to erase it. He felt like he was erasing his vulnerability, not his happiness. He glanced down at the tray in Sidon's hands and squinted at his handiwork before his eyes widened in recognition. The little bits of code were from the work he did over the years. All the charges he'd gained from his work.

"Well, that's odd." The judge says quietly, conferring with the jury. Keeley was taking this time to stretch, not hearing the conversation. "Are you sure there's no way we can prove it?"
"No, it was untraceable. The employee said the only reason she caught the money being sent out was because he wouldn't give money away. It wasn't even that much of a percentage, and he'd freaked. He still has a lot of money in his account."
"If we're right, this Keeley guy used it to pay for the taxes of him and his family, which is one of the oddest uses of stolen money I've ever heard of."
"What other charges are there? There's 20ish, right? It's odd that he'd confess to a rap sheet this long. Besides, he looks weak, and easily pressured, probably the fall guy. We need to find out who the actual mastermind is."
"Okay, okay people, this is getting way too opinionated. Let's keep back on track, what other charges are there?"
"Wow, making a spoofed video game+AI porno hybrid to farm money using video currency. I think we have to extend his case here, there's no way some of these crimes are real."
That news wasn't well received by Keeley at all, and he had to prove that yes, all these crimes are real, and which ones were just other people. The bad video game and AI porno hybrid was his work, though, and he had regretted that video game until people began to enter the game for shits and giggles, and then he implemented the currency.

As Sidon handed back the tray, Keeley's eyes flicked to the food, and ate a few holes in the code, and then scored it over. He wondered how Sidon hadn't gotten a pay raise yet, same with Zheng. They did their jobs right, from what he could see, and they were filled with compassion. He was grateful, truly he was. Why had they chosen to take these crappy jobs in the first place, he wondered? He decided to draw two things in the tray before handing it back: a seashell(easy to draw), and a car. He then winced slightly and shifted his weight and position so that he was sitting with his legs splayed out. Keeley knocked on the door and handed the tray back, letting it balance precariously on the door. It nearly fell, so Keeley rose up, to stop it from falling, set it down and then the tray must have been stubborn, for it fell again, and again when Keeley tried to pick it up the first three times. But, Keeley didn't mind, for this was the least bored he'd been in weeks. He usually just let the tray fall, yet somehow it fell right side up sometimes. By the time the tray stopped falling, the food had splattered all over the cell, the shell picture ruined. At least it was still kind of there. He stood up one last time, and the tray finally balanced.
 




Ahvelina and Markie




Earlier...


She jolted awake to find an out of focus nightmare right in front of her and staring right at her, a mere inch away. It violated her vision with an array of high intensity lights to the face. And the multi-lensed thing was smiling at her too.

"Ohhhhh hey-eeeeyyyy... hola, new assistant…! Man, so you finally awake, huh? Yeah, you are a special slumberer aren't you. Ey chica-chica, your readings are like off the chart, man. You recover from the 'cocktail' faster than any enhanced soldier I've seen! Oh, and we detected a whole bunch of alloys in you but like know what? Your systems reject our scanners. Even x-ray. What are you supposed to be, man? Like I seen something like you before but not sure if its the same thing, cuz you're kinda like a cyborg but your life supports and neuro-transmitters are powered by some unsubstantiated… 'tech-organic generator' in you. Off-Terran…? Dude wut? No really, you are special, chica-chica…


“So like tests just came back. Your blood is incredible too. It's not purely biological nor mechanically derived either, it's like some kinda' hybrid form and eyo, let me tell you, if it's Off-terran then none of our lab guys have ever seen it before and those are my homies, they tight and clean at what they do. Like yeah, they the ones that concocted your specialty sedative. But really. Dudeman likewut...! It's like you're another species of homo sapien that generates nanobots in their internal systems. Oh, eyo, nina chica-chica, please don't get all aggressive, ‘kay? They let you off the muzzle right? Cuz know wut? Like the EMP diodes and neuro sensors in your neck can sense out the bad chems you give off when you get all aggressive and nasty-like. You’re attached by your spine, man.

“And can’t get work done if you all nightie-night, or like if you drop a super-powered beat down on me, no? Cuz after reading your file a few times, it seems as if you... one Junior VPA alias:
'Stop Talking…' are exactly what I need to continue my team's research. Welcome. I’m Markina. But like most people just call me ‘Markie.’ So, eyo, do you like coffee, tea or water? Maybe biscuits or snack crackers? Ooooh! You like Taki’s…? Espicy! Whatcha wants, chica-chica? Eyyyyyyy…. So do you even get enough calorie intake from regular food or do you supplement with some other source of energy? Anyways… Okay. So my Minion-ita, I'm going to drink some more coffee and then we may continue this really engaging conversation, ‘kay?"


Ahvelina finally breathed easy. She opened her eyes after what felt like eons of inbox messages on a meth-driven loud speaker. The big, inked woman nodded in perfect agreement to her last thought; she wished she could have shut her ears off at will or better yet, maybe shoved a barrel or 2 into that Latina motormouth ending the verbal gouts of discharge right quick. But that was besides the point. "Ey... eyo, lady, few things right off the bat, 'kay? Like chill with alla’ that noise that and don’t bother on all counts. We ain’t doin’ no ‘Ms. Stop Talking’ and I am so not your ‘Lil Lil' Minion-ita.’ That ish don’t fly, so bish don’t try...

“Oh and another thing? I’m hella sure you soooooo do not need another cup of coffee... people say I talk alot... sheeeesh... eyo, if I’m ‘Stop Talking’ you should be ‘Please, Just Stop.’ Hahahahah!"


The labcoat-clad woman’s face lit up as she flumped back down onto her seat. Brown chin lifted upward to the ceiling, head tilted back and laughing heartily with Ahvi; the multi-lensed rigging on her face clattered and clicked with each bouncy, bubbly chuckle. Settling down now, she slid said labcoat off her shoulders and shrugged it onto her fancy-assed swiveling chair. The chair Ahvi woke up in and currently sat in was nice sure, but the one upon which the other woman sat was the ergonomic goldstar standard, hemroid relief heaven, Queen Fat-ass worthy, swiveling chair.

In contrast to the sterile nature of this office space, the colourful print on the Latina’s black, croptop tee exploded from her chest with all rainbowy goodness. Some kind of tie-dyed intoxicated band was maniacally riding some kind of rainbowy cyberpunk unicorn into an exploding pool of candy.
Awwwww how cute... Sister Pride is gaying up the science here... go, Sister Pride...!

Tight kid gloves came off last, revealing conservatively manicured, yet fancy-assed multicoloured nails decorating her fingertips. She then adjusted her hair barrettes before tucking back a lock of midnight behind an ear. Dark eyes shifted away from her subject and a fond haze soon settled over them, a warm smile accompanying those eyes, sliding away from the here and now and into memory and thoughts. She nodded thoughtfully then took a huge swill from her huge mug. "To Infinity and... that's it, it's just infinity..." stamped in an old typewriter font on the side.

That’s sooooo funny. Eyo, my friends usually say that exact thing to me. Hmph, you sooooo funny. Like most people woulkdn't be so humourous after what had happened-- especially what had happened to you… amiga, wait. What did happen to you…? Let me check... Here. Updated profile… Oh, deep probe-y spiderbots came back with more data…! Orale…! Oh, wait. Wut? Like, Dudeman wut?”[/I]

The lithe Latina picked up her tablet and swiped away a few more times. Big dark eyes widened and she stood up straight, Ay guey, nina-nina… tu esta la gata montesa, no? Sheeeeh! Yeah you a 'wild cat' alright! Dude, you wreck that ish up, donchu…? Look at what they gots here on you… you like a walkin list of dirty deeds, buh-ruuuuhhh– wait DUDE! It says you worked the Mexican Taco Scoop…?! You?! Wut?!”

As the Latina stood upright, it was pretty clear right away she had forgotten to wear pants today.

Ahvi’s eyes widened slightly, then the pair of hazel embers glistened with non-angellic gold. They narrowed as a coy smile pulled up at the corners of her mouth.
"Yeah. Yeah, that’s me… GunMother at your service… anytime a 'taco needs scooping'…” of course the bold and sly ‘wild cat’ was staring directly ahead, right into the heart print of that very private area where the young Latin woman forgot to cover up today.

The young Latin woman that obviously forgot her pants today whipped off her multi-lensed head gear and lay it not gently and not carefully upon her weird alloyed desk. The white labcoat she snatched and haphazardly and hastily buttoned up enough to look at least somewhat sort of decent.

Instantly, a lone brown finger pointed at the big, inked up woman in front of her, all embarrassment squashed by that squeaky voiced incredulity, “
You’re the GunMother?! Puta de puta madre! YOU…?!”

Ahvi made a sigh mixed into a disappointed clicking noise. Then as if there were a ‘personal thoughts cam’ beside her, the-still-not-GunMother turned cheek from the incredulous genius weird science Mexican reject and looked directly into said camera. Voice low and a backhand held to her mouth as she talked out the side of her mouth, “Need some advice, folks… what the actual eff in the face do I have to do to convince these Mama-effin’ Hell Beavers that I really am the GunMother…? Buh-ruuuuh… Please comment below…” A shrug, a sigh, a final look and wink into the camera.

“No like whatWUT?! YOU the GunMother?! What the actual eff in the face man?! ”

"No, you like whatWUT?! You go wut the actual eff in the face yourself…!”

To the pointing woman she responded with her own pointing finger. But not with the index finger. And it was pointing upward. On one segment of that finger was a small fuzzy tattoo that could still be made out. Yeah, it was a middle finger salute tattooed on a irl middle finger salute.

“Eyo listen up. 'Dancing Panties'… first off, don’t you dare go n’ tryna use my own sayings against me– wait. I… know… you… you’re… Sie… Sie… oh! You that ridin’ chick Cyberia!! Del Rios’ kid! Yeah, that’s you!”

“Who me..? Oh, oh yeah, me. Hahahahahaha… yeah, man, hey. Que pasa, Rasta…? What’s good, man? Appreciate you but I ain’t rode under that name for a good minute now, dude. Yeah, so I still run with the Hellraiser Crew but… but wait! Yeah. Si. Si, it does make sense now... the skills, the loadout, the dirty laundry list... the secrecy...

"But bruuuuuuuhhhh… I sooooo lost that bet then. Bigtime large. We all did. So many of us thought you was
vato-chico all along, man. Like so sure of it…! We had run your voice modder through our sensors, inflections and all. We followed all your mech movements and patterns… We even had a bot or 3 stalkin’ you but like you shot 'em all down! Duuuuude… chica-chica, you a chica… sin huevos, sin chorizo. So... you the GunMother…? Like–"

Bitch, I AM the GunMother!!

“ARRRRRGH!! Enough. Sister, I go balls deep for days! But what part of any of this looks anything remotely penis-like??? Grrrrrr… Where’s my gun–”
Ahvi’s eyes glowed that dangerous golden glow and just then the beeping on her neck and angry flashing red light warned her for only 2 seconds yet she found the Focus just in time, ‘Okay. Whew… Okaaaay… we cool. All goods… but ‘kay now I mean it. Quit it!

"Stop talking. Please, just stop!”


Both gasped, eyebrows popped up when she inadvertently called out their alleged and proposed Belle Reve alias names. A cynical yet humorous hiss from the big, inked woman. A facepalm and a bubbly chuckle from the smaller labcoat-clad one.

A deep breath and a fond sigh between the pair.

Awkward intro over.







Closer to current time... after Ahvi recounts her arrival...





"And yeah. Sooooo here I am. Ass-Parting Co-Agent in the Sphincter of Criminal Corrections, Pisshole, USA...

"'Kay but for real, for real tho. I do know your moms pretty good, lady. Mama EmEm would always show us pics of you… I mean we was in contact a lot with the Del Rios’, personally with her. Especially when we did the Taco job and other iffy jobs like that for La familia. Bruh. But like yeeeeahhh she soooooo proud of her weird motorbike riding daughter, backhandedly happy that you never followed in mommy’s footsteps of drugs, guns and blood. Y’know how She is. So she had this collection of some TubleYOU vids with your riding skills; loved doing play-by-play to them. Big, bigtime air. But giiiiirl, you niiiice wit it…!”


“D’aaaaaawww thanks! Yeah, I don’t gots the time no more to ride with Hellraiser Crew but I still go all casual to keep my skills tight and my senses sharp. And yeah… adrenaline, man! But like I do advanced tech R&D for ABORT and reppin' Belle Reve now but I still do my own robotics and tech development projects too. So! The GunMother is all in now with us n’ me in ABORT, huh? Wow. Magnifico, no…?”

“Co-Agent Inmate Ass-Parter at your service… wait. Wut do you go by here? Not ‘Cyberia’ tho right?”

“Si, most but people get scared to hear that I’m Markie Del Rios of the scary Del Rios Fam.”

“Yeah, I heard that. Believe me your moms wouldn’t ever let me forget that hahahah. No, but what I mean is your handle. Your alias…”

“Oh! That. Well, my team calls me ‘Gutsie’… but I like “Pixie’ better. Que liiiiinda, no?

“Yeah. Okay sure… ‘Pixie’. And what did your mom call me again when she talked about me to you…?”

“Oh. Chica-chica you wouldn’t like it… but know what? I’ll say it. She called you; ‘Esquina’.”

“Hahahahah…! That’s right; the Del Rios term for ‘hooker!’ Hahahahaha! People in my Crew spoke Spanish but Meltdown’s man at the time didn’t and so he thought he heard her say ‘Queen’ when it means ‘corner.’ Hahahahah…!”

“Okay. Okay fine, I’ll call you that then…”

"Eyoooooo… I’m okay with Mama EmEm calling me that not-so-tongue-in-cheek. But you… C’mon now…”

Queen. I’ll call you; 'Junior VPA Queen.' Gusta-gusta, chica-chica? You like it, man?”

“Yeeeeeahhh… well see here’s the thing. There was someone I know named–”

“Pixie, attention. Attention; debriefing in 10min.” said a voice in the overhead loud speaker, “Better hustle, girl. Hollows herself is presiding. Can’t cover if you tardy this time, sister. Be there. On time, ‘kay? See ya there– Oh wait. Yo, is that ‘Stop Talking’ piece of trash there?”

“Alright. Listen up, you fu-– aaaarrrrrERRGHHH!!”

“This is a test. Repeat; this is only a remote test to check the receiver in the inmate inhibitor collar. Yup, still functioning at range. If this was the real thing you’d get a free complimentary kick in the teeth. Thank you and have a nice day. Stay icy, Pix. I’ll send someone to nab inmate ‘Stop Talking.’ Delta out.

“Ughs… Eso duele mucho, huh…? Hurts, no? Owwie. You okay, chica-chica?”

“D-d-dontTouchMeee! Uhhhnnn… just give me a s-sec. Owww… that… bitch is such a p-pain in the… sphincter for real, for real… uuuuhhhh… just give me a sec… ‘kay it don’t hurt anym–AAARGH!!”

“Kay, you just rest there. Lemme just check my phone, kay? Don’t worry, I have the floor cleaned daily. Twice. No bugs, no diseases yet!”

“Reassuring… thankssss…”

“Eyoooo! They caught the Off-Terran in the cargo bay! Orale, vatos! Yo! Shine was part of the collar man! Hahahahah! She says that she used cookies to nab the BOR subject… Bunny shaped ones it didn’t eat… ‘kay so after they showed the subject pics of various renders of rabbits and then gave it ‘crayons and papers and it started drawing bunnies!! Awwww que lindoooooo! Elle gustan los conejos…! D’aaaawww Man, so adorable… then they collared it while it slept. How did… ohhhhh! She sang. Shine sang it to sleep, man. Nice touch, no? Wow…. Oh, eyo, Queenie-Queen, so like Shine is a good singer. Like reeeeeally good singer, as in she could have been like a pop star or something. Oh wait. She sent a pic of the BOR sub. A selfie. Wanna see it?”

Through fluttering eyelids, Ahvelina saw Pixie moving in janky slow motion. It was a colossal battle but she managed a smile and grumbled an answer. Dang, they adjusted some settings in her inhibitor collar. She got shocked and dosed. It was getting fuzzy in her head again. It felt like the Flash was using her nose as a speed bag; tears of pain and irritation flooded down her cheeks. She was losing Focus.

"Kay, here. Check it out…"

Selfie in the Cargo Bay...

Most-Beautiful-Girls.jpg

"Oooohhh... Wait… y-your friends are cartoons…?”

"Wut. No, no, man, no. I don’t know why but that’s a filter she used… See… that’s Shine with the blue hair and glasses. That’s… I don’t know that brunette. Guessin it’s the Trainee she mentioned– yeeeeah, like yeah she wearing trainee drip… and that… that albino creature is the BOR subject… They nicknaming her ‘Thumper…’ Hahahahahah!!"

Kay she sayin’ she gunna be delayed but she gunna meet us at Debriefing. She and some other admin people are getting together to deal with the Fubar at the cargo bay… yup. See? They got damage control on it. Mr. Lion and his legal team are stickin their noses in it."


“B-big Dubs… so my guy... y’know I… I… I almost… a-almost blew his head… offfff… hah.”

"Hahahahaha…! Whachu even sayin, chica-chica…? Oooh, yuck, Here, let me help you with that. Like you drooling lots now… Anda! Eyo…! Someone sent a vid… ‘Wither…?’ Hmph…? Anyways the cap reads: ‘Arroro Mi–’ oh wow! It's Shiny-Shine singing lullabies...! Check it, check it out...!"

As Ahvelina was swallowed whole by the murky blackness in her mind, her heart burst wide open. She could no longer see. But what she heard... Oh gosh, what she heard flooded more tears into her already straining eyes. It was a heart-wrenching storm surge of pain built up eons ago, greater than anything that that collar could ever hurt her. She knew that voice. She would crawl through Hell and swear to the Devil, she knew exactly who was singing.

It was the most beautiful and excruciating sounding thing she knew as of right now. That sound. The raspy, melodic sound of her Sibling’s intoxicating singing voice. Her little sister…

"Notti..."

'Hush-a-bye, My Child.'

It was but a whisper but saying that Name out loud for the first time in over 7 years was the first pain-stakingly slow step. And the first step was always the hardest wasn’t it?

Ahvelina dove, swam straight into the darkness, the strokes of her arms and legs moving in time to that lovely voice. It was hard to face up to it, but it always was when you forced yourself to face up to denial.


A heartbeat longer she cried. And then nothing.




 
Last edited:
BAI YUAN YUE
Some try to shut my mouth and say I should swallow this forbidden fruit

insanity depravity demolition
the vampire
the red views keep ripping the divide
panic switch
silversun pickups
mood: curious
location: belle reve, recreation area
interactions: Deluge ( BuggaBoo BuggaBoo ), Sinead mention ( RikuXIII RikuXIII )
scroll
Aha! That was the gag, the bit. She could hear Glassy chortling in the back of her mind, a deep timbre that betrayed his hellish form. Yue might not have known what type of non-human he was, but it was religious (or at least mystical) in nature. He smelled weird because he was weird and evidently, he was ready to unleash his power.

Was he scared? Alarmed? Yearning? She had so many questions. All she could do was tilt her head and ask for his blood type before the light show faded away. She'd been vaguely tempted to provoke him into using his abilities, but Glassy had left.

''Only one type for me, Renegade. The type that looks good on my arm on a night out; I'm... O-positive about that. Hahahahha... Why you wanna take me to dinner? Maybe you can fix us a couple drinks, Rennie? Can I call you Rennie, or do you prefer Rene? How about 'Gadie...?''

"Ah type O, the most common in the world. Agreeable, determined, self-centered, unstable, insensitive, intolerant," she rattled off the traits assigned by Ketsueki-gata, eying Deluge for any signs of confirmation or denial. "Very basic, but entirely tolerable." She gave a sagacious nod, seemingly oblivious to his playful tone.

"What's a Bloody Mary?" had been her first question. "Who is the Circle of Vengeance" was her second. Still, she kept quiet about where she sourced the Kryptonite. She had no preference for a nickname either, giving a simple shrug as he snapped a photo of her.

She grabbed Deluge's hand not long after, lifting it to identify the veins flowing from his wrist. The two (three with his trainer) headed off to the next prisoner, a short girl with bushy eyebrows. Then another and another. Were they being mass executed? It was a dark thought, but not unlikely given the danger that the inmates posed. She'd be safe of course (her patron typically intervened in horrible situations), but there was no telling what fresh Hell the warden had in mind for everyone.

All she could do was wait at the meeting spot until everyone arrived.

© reveriee
 














Cersei Hallows




Mood: ...

Location: Belle Reve

Interactions: Ciao

Outfit: Here






Perhaps this wave of vulgar language and rage might have worked on some but as Ciao had his fit Cersei simply stared at him, her whiskey-brown eyes that of a hunter who has cornered her prey even if he didn’t know it yet. As far as she was concerned Ciao could curse and shout all he liked, it would not change the position he was in, nor would it change the power she held over him. This entire prison was a chessboard and she was both player and queen, free to move where and how she liked while also controlling her pawns and knights. So no, Ciao’s little temper tantrum did nothing to sway her, make her shudder, or provide any sense of negativity towards herself. The dark lady of fate had far too much else to worry about than what this inmate decided to become a ticking time bomb over. One of her perfectly sculpted dark brows rose as the young man across from her demanded to know if she had any further questions for him. “So in short your answer is no.” She replied smoothly and simply to his rant. “As I suspected.” She added and elegantly raised her chin, her gaze still cold and betraying none of her thoughts or feelings.

In a swift movement, her hands rose and elegantly crossed on her desk, resting upon the folder she had just been looking at. “It seems that which you claim to be an insult to your intelligence is exactly what you have put little thought into.” As she spoke a well-manicured nail drew along the edge of the folder, a subtle tease to get the young man's mind working. “Your future holds more than you expect Ciao, and clearly more than you hoped if you are willing to reach for it.” She informed him, her tone smooth as honey but still holding the reminder of her authority, making it clear he should not forget who was in control. “I have a proposition for you, one that would come with certain luxuries that could make your life far easier inside these walls and the possibility of time beyond them as well.” That seemed to have caught his attention as the words were processed and registered, his eyes suddenly showing a certain hunger but quickly accompanied by wariness. She knew he wouldn’t bite at the bait simply because it looked tasty, Ciao was a competitor, he liked having something to reach for but he also needed something to lose. “It could also be said that were you to take my offer certain other inmates stand to benefit as well.” She added, her gaze studying his as he warred with his thoughts and emotions. A twitch of the lip, a slight furrow of his brow, the pulse-quickening in his neck, all signs of anger, desire, and curiosity swirling within him.

“That being said,” She continued and leaned forward enough for her elbows to now rest upon the desk while still retaining her elegant and powerful posture. “I will also inform you that your actions in the yard today make for poor marks on your record. Assaulting a guard in such a manner would require serious punishment and beings though you had accomplaces I would be required to see that they are properly disciplined as well.” Her honeyed words held a poison as she spoke, the meaning behind them all too clear so that Ciao could not possibly mistake the threat for an empty one. He would take her deal or he would suffer the consequences. Cersei knew all too well what was at stake and how in times like these the moral high ground all too often became a mass grave. She would tarnish her soul and darken her heart in any way she had to if it meant stopping what lay ahead.

She knew instantly that her threat had triggered the fire within Ciao once more. His face was practically on fire as it turned red with rage. He didn’t appreciate the threats, he didn’t care for the manipulation, but his personal feelings weren’t worth anything to her. His skills on the other hand, now those held some value. As did the possibility of what he could learn about the others when boots hit the ground. She wasn’t a fool, far from it, in fact, so she knew good and well that the guards would be the last people to fully comprehend what was going through the minds of the inmates. Ciao on the other hand was one of them and if she could get him under her thumb then she could see the benefits such a move offered. Not that she would outright trust any and everything he said, far from it in fact. She had no doubt that Ciao would choose to work his own agenda no matter the deal, but she could still benefit even if he didn’t see how. “This offer won’t stay on the table long Ciao.” She pointed out as she knew she would need to begin the debriefing soon. “But just remember, I have more to offer you than you could obtain on your own. I could help you get your life back.”

Aviator Aviator





code by Stardust Galaxy
 
ad5420b04d2c25587fca3c38f3494c9958606160.gif


Caio McCarthy // “Whiplash” // Age 26 // Inmate // Getaway Driver // Brazilian-American
Oh yeah? Caio thought childishly, the urge to argue just for the sake of arguing surfacing within him. And what else do you suspect in your infinite wisdom? But he held his tongue because he knew that he wouldn’t learn anything from lashing out at the warden blindly, and it would do him no good to lose his composure. Well. That had gone out the door a hot minute ago, actually, along with his last fucks to give. More like, it would do him no good not to pick up the pieces of his composure. Calm down. Just calm the hell down, man, he coached himself, trying to ignore the resentment that boiled in his stomach when the warden looked at him in that haughty way, like a saint confronting a sinner. He loathed the cold, hard void of her expression, how none of his insults seemed to rile her. Caio almost would have preferred that the warden yell and take a swing at him and throw him in solitary than the way that she simply sat there and mused, her ebony eyes so dark that they seemed to swallow the light whole rather than reflect it.
The warden trailed a suggestive finger along the spine of the manila folder on the desk, like a Bourbon Street stripper enticing her audience with a flash of thigh. For the first time, Caio acknowledged the fact that the warden was… physically attractive, what with the way her ultramarine dress molded to her slim figure, her rich alto voice, the graceful arch of those brows over eyes that pinned him like a serpent’s. Caio had learned that eye candy was few and far between in maximum-security prison and normally would savor the sweetness, but he suddenly wished that the warden were an ugly little toad, just to knock her down a peg. Or several. He wondered if that was the angle she was playing, part of her strategy to get the upper hand. He also wondered if that manila folder was just a prop with nothing at all inside it. Or perhaps a coloring book page of Happy the Clown, the sort that a kid would be given in a restaurant.
The warden’s next words knifed Caio in the side. Despite her inscrutable facade, he doubted she meant it that way from how she dangled the promise of a future over him. Or maybe she had, and the warden was more of a masterful manipulator than Caio had given her credit for. “My future died in the passenger seat of a gray Chevy Impala,” he said woodenly. “There was stolen money in the backseat and a blockade of police cars in front of us. An engagement ring in my pocket. I swerved too fast and slid on ice. Her neck snapped so that her head was spun halfway around. The press called me Whiplash afterward. It’s not a compliment.” Caio narrated the story of Adelaide’s death in a dead, matter-of-fact voice, like a weatherman reporting a forecast. “Have you ever loved someone so fervently? That your future holds nothing without them.” He posed it as a sincere question, holding the warden’s dark stare in a way that felt equal parts aggressive and vulnerable. As if she were a puzzle he could solve at the expense of part of his sanity, of years of his life.
In the lull that followed, the warden moistened her lips and, unsurprisingly, ignored his question. Caio would have been astonished if she’d answered. After announcing that she had a proposition for him, the handsome woman paused, as if waiting for him to ask for details. When he said nothing, she continued, shifting her shoulders back and forth in the slow, unconscious motion of a cat before it pounces. Caio’s heart froze in his chest a moment before the warden’s promises of a better life turned into a threat for noncompliance. “Gah ‘head,” he said immediately, feigning nonchalance to the notion of the warden punishing the other members of the Bad Bitch Brigade for Caio’s transgression. “You think playing darts with others in my cell block during rec time and exchanging juicy gossip means we’re friends? Please, ma’am. No one has friends in Belle Reve. Maybe just acquaintances who would think twice before shanking you for your last cigarette. By all means, let ‘em take the fall for me, if it makes you feel all swaggering and powerful.”
A fearful corner of Caio’s mind conjured up an image of the warden sinisterly beckoning to a shadowy figure behind the door, who would shove Elara into the room and start pulling out her fingernails one by one to call his bluff. Cuffed behind his back and out of the warden’s sight, one of his hands clamped down on the opposite wrist hard enough to leave an imprint, to make his bones creak with tension. Afraid that she would smell his weakness like a hungry leopard, he summoned another wave of bravado and continued, “For the record, I would do it again. What I did to Novak? A guy who’s pissed on a starving inmate’s tray of food and laughed about it? Doesn’t have a goddamn thing on the shit that he gets away with every day.” Caio’s voice cut like a saw through bone. “And you’re not a stupid woman; our conversation has proven that. So why the hell do you just sit back and let him abuse his victims half to death?”
Caio reclined in his chair with all the superiority he could muster, tipping his head to the side as if expectant of the warden’s answer. He knew there wouldn’t be one, though. She’d let his point stand if it made clear the fact that the privilege of asking questions was hers alone. With one serpentine slink, the warden inched forward over her desk, as if to close the distance that Caio had created by leaning back. As if she were preparing to attack. She reminded him that her offer wasn’t permanent, as if her patience for his antics were waning. The way she said his name sounded almost like a snarl. Why not just take your deal to someone else? Caio asked silently. Unless I’m not replaceable for whatever you want. He liked that thought. The option of refusal gave him a shred of power over an entity who was practically a god within the walls of Belle Reve. Assuming that the woman in front of him was actually the Warden, of course. Capital W.
“Ma’am, I lived in Brazil for seven years. Brazilians are very much a bird-in-the-hand people. Every few decades, when the people get so fed up of their politicians lying to them with promises of lower taxes and better standards of living that never come to fruition, they stage a coup. Long story short, if we hear something too good to be true… It ain’t.” Despite identifying as Brazilian in his spiel, Caio’s voice incongruently shifted into the Southern twang with which he’d been raised. The one that makes me sound like Giselle, he mused, stifling a cringe at the thought of resembling his mother in any way. “So while I’ll let you make your proposition… how do I know that you’ll uphold your end of the bargain after all is said and done?”
The future was never something that Caio had banked on. The future was something that could be taken away, just as Adelaide had been wrenched from this world due to Caio’s own recklessness. People could try to control their futures, but more often than not that control was an illusion to keep one from feeling helpless. And the past was something that couldn’t be relived. Once gone, there was no point in mourning something that would never return. But the present? Caio could shape the present with his hands, gunning a stolen hot rod down the interstate at triple digits. With his lips, unnerving the warden with tales of the lowest points of his life and flipping the question back around on her so that she’d lower her guard. The present was the only thing that mattered to Caio, because a cool head and quickness on his feet often meant the difference between success and failure.
So when Caio announced this temporary truce on his sparring match with the warden in order to hear her out, she told him. She told him what she wanted of him, what she expected in exchange for a better life—yeah, right—and to Caio’s surprise, it was something that he’d already been doing since his first day at Belle Reve. All those hours in his cell spent hunched over a book with headphones seemingly blaring music, but listening to the inmates across the block talk about the crimes they’d been caught for, and those they hadn’t. All those pleasant smiles with which he’d indulge Zheng’s flattery, and then make an offhand comment about Null and Void or Wither and Deluge that digressed into lurid gossip. The survival strategies he’d learned from his father, who in addition to heading a drug ring, had also brokered information to ward off the police. For the first time during his conversation with the warden, Caio fought the urge to smile like a fox in a henhouse. “So you have been doing your homework,” he said by way of admission.
He didn’t have manila folders and fancy office cabinets at his disposal, but for the past five months, Caio had been compiling elaborate, scandalously detailed mental files on almost everyone in Belle Reve, inmate or guard. And occasionally he was paid in cigarettes or snacks or additional rec time to divulge some of those secrets. One of the few exceptions to his mental files currently sat four feet across a desk from him. “You want me to spy on the other inmates for you? But only a select group of inmates… yeah?” he asked, trying to wrap his head around the concept. Or rather, why the warden cared. “Hell of a time to take an interest in mortal affairs now, don’cha think?”
The favor she was asking was definitely doable, and would barely require Caio to go out of the way of his regular routine, if at all. Sitting in the same chair as he was now, he could probably keep the warden’s interest piqued for several hours with all that he’d heard and witnessed since his induction into Belle Reve. But he wouldn’t do it for free, or for a prize that he considered worthless. She sought to tempt him with a “possibility” of future freedom, but even if that possibility were certain, Caio wasn’t sure that the real world held any allure for him. Now that Adelaide was dead, he’d forsaken his mother, crippled his leg, and his racing days were almost ten years behind him, what purpose was there in freedom? He’d have to go back to paying bills and going food shopping and doing home repairs. Take a job either waiting tables for two-thirteen an hour as he had in college or in an unventilated mechanic’s shop almost getting crushed by a carjack past its prime. Caio hadn’t been lying or feeling sorry for himself when he’d told the warden that his reason for living had died the same day he’d been arrested.
An idea occurred to him. “Allow me to make a counteroffer?” His mind twisted and turned on itself in a flash of improvised brilliance. It sent a delicious shiver through him. The warden paused as if wondering whether to give him this small liberty. Finally, she dipped her head in a slow nod for Caio to continue. “I already told you once that I’ve resigned myself to life in prison. Truly, a future in the real world is meaningless to me. The currency I want is of a more immediate nature, and a little more… personal.” This time he was the one to pause, to gauge the warden’s reaction. But she was all poker-faced placidity. He was a little disappointed not to faze her, but not surprised. “I want secrets in exchange for secrets. I want to fill the gaps in my knowledge. Truths that some of your guards may not even know. For starters, whether or not you’re the real warden and a demonstration of your metahuman abilities. The name of the SWAT officer who killed my father in a home invasion. Why Nova Red was kicked out of the Titans. Whether or not the rumors that the American government intends to sterilize all metahumans are true.
“And then I want news of the outside world, too. What my dead girlfriend’s parents are up to. Which politicians are projected to get elected. Access to NFL and MLB standings. Simple things.” As always, the warden’s face was as inscrutable as a blank page. Caio had no inkling whether she’d agree to his request prior to her answer. “That’s all I want. Just to stay informed, as all good informants oughta be. And then you won’t have to bother yourself greasing palms for my release, if you even planned to do that at all.” When her silence persisted, nervousness knotted in Caio’s throat. The dark-haired woman’s only visible reaction was to shift back in her seat and lower her gaze to the surface of the desk, as if deep in thought. But she’d been thinking for so long, and the wait was starting to grate on Caio. “Well?” he prompted, his voice huskier than he’d intended it to be. With desperation. “What do you—”
A loud rap at the door cut him off. Caio had felt so displaced from time and space during his conversation with the warden, as if they were the only two people in the world, that his heart rocketed into his throat at the sudden noise. He stiffened in his chair. Only to relax slightly at the voice of a guard calling through the heavy wood. “Debriefing is about to begin, my lady. Shall I escort the prisoner?”
 
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Levina
Location: Unknown/Belle Reve Gym/ Debriefing Room
Interactions: N/A




"Debrief in a hour, don't be late"
"Roger that"

The sea crashes below, so far below. A figure watches the sea. Watches the waves. Watches as the clouds roll and run. They watch it all from the perch on the edge of the world. The figure stood still, arm raised slightly, index and middle finger by their ear as the message is relayed to them via a link. One whole hour to wrap this up. The figure sighed and then turned their attention to to the figure standing a good thirty feet away. They were holding their arm as it bled, specks dropping down upon the floor. "The Crimson Blade" wanted criminal and super villan. Their opponent, Levina Noe, Captain at Belle Reve, Deity and all round good person. "This isn't going to end well for you, you know if you keep on resisting. It would be better if you surrendered!" The Crimson Blade merely stood there before rolling their shoulder and seemingly popping their shoulder back into place. Sighing Levina shook her head as she tightend her gauntlets. "Well.. don't say I didn't warn you.." In a blink and you'd miss it moment, both figures suddenly moved at speed towards each other. Drawing back opposing fists they met one another coming to a standstill. Nothing happend at first... that was until the ground under them cracked, and suddenly split, a crater being created from the result. A shockwave rippled through the air as their fists hit one another, dust exploding forth. They drew back and traded more blows. Blow after blow, the two fighters going at it with a ferocity that shook the foundation of the ground they stood upon.

Levina's oppenentt suddenly ducked and delivered a deft uppder cut to her jaw, sending her reeling backwards. As she staggered, they spun on the heel and booted her in the chest. Levina went skidding backwards her heels digging into the dirt as she stedied herself. The Crimson Blade was already upon her charging and going in for a punch. Levina struck out and with a quick twist of her body grabbed her adversary's neck and hoisted them into the air, before slamming them down into the ground, the resulting devastaion paramount as the ground exploded beneath them, a massive crater being formed. Letting go Levina rose her arm into the sky. "I think I've played around enough.. time to take you down."

Lighting cracked over her hand as an arc shot into the sky, spreading through clouds. Grinning she curled her hand into a fist before suddenly striking, slamming into her foe's face. As she did a bolt of lighting rained down from the sky, as if God has decided to rain holy judgement down upon this villian. The Crimson Blade's armour cracked and then broke as their body was wracked with Lighting. She sighed as she looked down at her foe. Tapping the side of her helmet she noted the time. "Heh... only took ten minutes" Hauling the unconcious foe over her shoulder she then proceeded to eave the area.




Some time later


"Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine... Ten thousand" With a sigh a rather tall imposing figure dropped down from the metal bar they were doing pull ups on. A resounding thud resonated through the gym as said figure hit the mat below them, followed by one more thud, then another and another as numerous weights were removed from their body hitting the floor. "Need to up the limit.." Glancing around the gym the figure made a move to the changing room. This figure was Levina a guard a Belle Reve, or to be more precise a department captain. Levina had only been at Belle Reve for a short time and yet here she was overseeing quite a fair bit. She had been recruited personally by the Warden, Cersei Hallows, not long after Levina had taken down a rather powerful individual in a highly telivsed fight that had occured in a remote location. The fight had lasted about ten hours with Levina claming victory in the end. After that she found a letter adressed to her at her home. The rest was history.

After changing Levina made her way through the halls of Belle Reve towards the debriefing room. Her comms had relayed a message to her that a debrief was about to begin. Passing through yet another hallway she made her way, walking with purpose hands clasped behind her back. Her gaze ran over each cell door she passed, makng some mental notes for later. After a few moments had passed Levina finally made it to the room, opting to use one of the "side entrances". Glancing around the room she moved along the desk and then proceeded to stand behind a chair at the top of the table. This is where The Warden would be sitting. Levina patted down her suit.

This would be the first time anyone but The Warden would see her face.. and her in a suit. "I wonder how they'll react.." She pondered​
 
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Caio McCarthy // “Whiplash” // Age 26 // Inmate // Getaway Driver // Brazilian-American

Caio was beginning to feel bounced around like a coin in a pocket. There was no clock or other time-telling metric immediately obvious to the eye in the warden’s office, so he had no idea how long their conversation had lasted other than what his instincts told him. But when two guards entered at her call to escort him out and a black hood was once again draped over his head, deja vu hit him in an overwhelming force. His world was once again reduced to the loud sound of his own breathing in grainy darkness, to hands on his shoulders steering him. These guards weren’t half as rough with him as the ones who’d herded him out of the rec yard had been, but Caio knew asking where they were taking him was pointless. As he was led up a sloping stone floor, the sound of water dripping from somewhere unknown, he occupied his mind with whether the warden would agree to his counteroffer: secrets for secrets. And more importantly, why was she willing to barter something as significant as his release for the daily gossip about the other inmates?
The guards had stopped Caio at three different intervals to open doors. At the fourth door, the hood was ripped off his head, a gasp of fresh air hitting his face. “Enter,” the guard on his left bade him. No shit, and here I thought the room moved toward me, Caio thought, clamping his teeth down on the retort. The room beyond reminded him of a Battleship board, with a grid of red lights comprising one half of it, and an imposing general’s war conference table dominating the other. The massive room seemed disproportionately populated with only seven individuals. His asymmetrical footsteps echoed slightly as he entered, his right leg dragging with a short, audible swoosh. With his hands still cuffed behind his back, Caio felt stiff and awkward as he waddled along like a duck, unsure where precisely in the big room he was supposed to go.
He knew where he didn’t want to go, and that was toward the colossal woman towering over the head of the conference table, a yard distant from the chair there. A silvery scar traced down the left side of her face, ending at the corner of her full lips, and her black hair was shorn close to her scalp. Her brows were fixed in a scowl as her gaze locked on Caio, as if warning him not to try anything funny. Not with you, babe. Not for a million dollars, he thought, warily sizing up all six-and-a-half feet of muscle. Still, he didn’t recognize her, and there weren’t many faces in Belle Reve he hadn’t glimpsed at some time or another. His curiosity was piqued.
All but one of the room’s other inhabitants were familiar faces. Bae Yuan Yue, the vampiress who’d blown up the Vatican, immediately identifiable by the black mask that obscured the lower half of her face. Caio wondered to what extent the Dracula lore was true in regards to her… condition. He also wondered what it would feel like, for a vampire to drink your blood, but he wasn’t curious enough to want to test it out himself. He trusted that Yuan Yue wore that mask for a reason. Next to her was Sinead, the Creole crackpot who had allegedly returned from the dead and been made an angel by the deity who’d raised her from the grave. Caio wasn’t so much skeptical of the angel status—hell, her wings were big and bright and very visible, so if she wanted to call herself an angel, so be it—but just that she was “God’s” chosen one. Giselle was a Jesus lover, and she was full of shit. Completing the Unholy Trinity was Kenna, commonly whispered about as “Basilisk,” the woman who shared DNA with a literal snake. Caio knew her to be a figurative one, too. He would have put money on the notion that she pulled the wings off of butterflies as a kid and killed small rodents for fun. All three ladies wore collars, meaning that Caio was the only “Numbie” inmate, as Nova Red and her lapdogs liked to say.
Speak of the devil. Accompanying the inmates was none other than the infamous Victorine LaFontaine, Southern belle and former Titans member with a penchant for mad-as-a-hatter giggling. Upon closer inspection, the holographic “cells” only had red bars of light on three sides, at least until Victorine shooed the inmates into them. And then a fourth wall of lasers blinked into existence. Caio wondered if she was the one controlling them with her power, and even without certain knowledge, he made several mental notes on top of each other not to touch the bars. Oh, lord. The animals that Kenna tortured to death as a kid would have it good in comparison to spontaneous human combustion.
The only other person that Caio didn’t recognize was a woman tall and muscular enough to be an Amazon. But he’d never heard of an Amazon having half of this woman’s tattoos. Minus her face, all of her visible skin was riddled with ink. Long midnight hair tumbled most of the way to her waist, still slightly damp as if she’d recently showered. Her skin was tan, her eyes hazel, and the unflattering folds of her prison jumpsuit did little to take away from her statuesque curves. Much like Bae Yuan Yue, she too wore a muzzle, making Caio wonder if she was also a vampire. Whether Yuan Yue had turned her, if that was even a thing. The collar around her neck declared her a meta-human, and the fact that Caio had never seen her before meant she was new here. Because, oh, she was a pretty thing, muzzle or not, and he wouldn’t forget such a face. He immediately wanted to learn more.
“The warden will be along once all of the requested inmates are secure,” rumbled the low voice of one of the guards who had escorted Caio. “Our task was just to escort Prisoner Sixty-Six Eighty-Two here. He’s all yours now, Pixie.” As if on cue, a young woman with a deep side part in her black bob looked up from a screen she’d been examining. Seeing Caio, recognition flared in her eyes. But it was more than just that. Something inside those dark orbs melted a little bit. Familiarity. Caio didn’t realize how tense his shoulders had been until he’d come face-to-face with Markina Del Rios, a girl who’d once been his friend, a woman with whom he hoped he could still be friendly. As kids they’d played chess together, drawn automatic weapons in the hands of coloring book characters, and had once even kissed, just to see what it was like.
Avoiding his eyes, Markina descended on Caio, looping an arm through one of his cuffed ones and beginning to pull him toward one of the prismatic cells. Caio flung a shoulder back, wresting free of her grip. “Ei ei, é assim que você trata um velho amigo?” Is that how you treat an old friend? He said it playfully, eyes twinkling, lips edging upward in what could be called the smallest of smiles. Markina spoke Spanish, not Portuguese, but they had found from prolonged experimentation that they could get the gist of what one another was saying if they spoke slowly enough. “Qual é o minha espertinha favorito tem feito todo esse tempo? Você já está no seu quinto doutorado? Apenas quarto? Maldita preguiçosa.” What has my favorite smartass been up to all this time? Are you on your fifth PhD yet? Only fourth? Fucking slacker. Ever since Markina had been enrolling in college classes at age twelve, Espertinha had been Caio’s pet name for her.
“Todas essas credenciais e você ainda não consegue me vencer no xadrez.” All those credentials and you still can’t beat me in chess. That statement wasn’t entirely true, but Caio clicked his tongue as if shaming Markina. Markie was naturally smart, and she was tenacious once she set her mind to something, so after several vicious beatings she’d learned to hold her own against him. The games that he’d claimed to have let her win had been all her own. “De qualquer forma. Diga ao seu pai que eu disse oi do mais profundo do inferno." Anyway. Tell your dad I said hi from the deepest ring of hell. “E se você ver minha mãe? Chute a bunda dela por mim.” And if you see my mom? Kick her ass for me. An expression a little too dangerous to be called a smile appeared on Caio’s face. It was more like the leer of a shark, and it made his eyes glitter like stolen stars. He’d missed bantering with Markina. She was one of few individuals whose company he enjoyed, and that was fortunate, because once Markie started on a topic, there was no derailing her. Caio indulged her, and she amused him.
But whatever was the purpose of this “debriefing” session, as the guards called it, must have been a pressing matter; Markina seemed uncharacteristically laconic as she pushed Caio toward a cell in the center of the holographic grid. All of the other inmates so far had been placed along the perimeter. His eyes flashed to the mysterious tattooed woman in the muzzle. There was an open cell next to her in the corner. If Caio wanted to get the scoop on her, this would be a prime opportunity. “Markina!” Caio dug his heels in, forcing them to stop again. Her brows narrowed indignantly over her dark eyes, and Caio cut in quickly so that he could get a few words before the feisty Latina inventor turned into a conversational bulldozer. “Não quero ser o centro das atenções. Isso me deixa ansioso por ser o único Numbie.” I don’t want to be center stage. It makes me very anxious about being the only Numbie. Perhaps this sentence didn’t translate well into Spanish, because Markina remained silent, a perplexed expression crossing her face. Or perhaps she was just conflicted about taking orders from an inmate. Caio tossed his head in the direction of the open cell next to the new inmate. “Me colocou ali no canto? Por favor, Markina.” Put me in the corner over there? Please, Markina.
 
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Interactions: Open
*At the debrief*
Keeley, for his part, was also brought into the debriefing room. The hood had also been placed over his head and then yanked off again. To his relief, he saw a familiar face in Caio, but the guards outnumbered them by far as of right now. Things must be serious if they were forced to interact, but obviously, inmates were still too big of a threat to be free. On a lot of the inmates, he saw collars on their necks, and as he was placed into a random corner cell thingy, he grasped his own neck as if to make sure nothing was there. Of course, he had the cuffs, but that was par for course. In other words, he was very, very lucky. His eyes flicked around, taking in the players he'd be playing with in this insane roll of the dice in the game of prison. A few people stood out to him, inmates and guards alike. People might be creeped out by the way he was staring at them, as if trying to extract their souls.

Firstly,amongst the people at the table,there was a very tall guard, a tree compared to his bush. The thing he found himself zeroing in on was the long scar on her cheek. Her scowl made him wonder who'd want to mess with her, as it looked like a imbecilic decision to poke the bear. He wasn't the messer kind psychically anyway. He had never met the lady before, or at least he thought he didn't. It was hard to tell, as the guards didn't wear formal clothing, only their uniforms. Thus the suit was an anomaly, out of place in his mind. The inmates are interesting to him also, and studying the people was a way to pass the time. He flicked his eyes away from her, and his eyes landed on Kenma. The first thing he remembered about her was the nickname: Snake Bitch. That name had made him laugh, but based on what he had seen of her personality, she owned that nickname. Honestly, he would too if he were her. It was the kind of name that sounded both badass and stupid at the same time, like being able to sing O'Canada coherently during the American national anthem and being heard singing it. Sinead was another inmate who he saw, but didn't interact with a lot. Her food was great, unlike some of the other wings and Caio often mentioned her glass-stain wings. The feathers, when they shed, probably got everywhere for how big they were, with a fuck ton of feathers.

There were a few players here he didn't know, one of them being Yue. Alone amongst everyone else, she was muzzled. Was her mouth magic? Maybe, probably. What kind of magic, he had no clue. It could be anything here, such as sonic screeching or voice mimicry. The reason he had no clue at all was that he checked out sometimes when Caio or Zheng gossiped, he let his mind wander.He didn't know about Yue, all he knew was that she was in solitary confinement, as was he. The person of interest to him, though, was the guard Caio had been talking to. They had obviously known each other, based on the way they had an exchange that Keeley had glimpsed when he walked through the door. He had only heard the name Markie, and even then he wasn't sure. Markie was probably the guard's name. How had they known each other? The chance of acquaintances being on opposite sides of the fence, he felt, was low. It clearly wasn't impossible and maybe there were other inmates who knew other guards quite well. He certainly wasn't one of them, though.

Anyway, he didn't know when the debriefing would start. He might have all the time in the world, he might only have a few moments. It didn't matter to him at all, as he lived in the now. Dwelling on the past usually bored him, and the future was too uncertain for him to deal with. He only future he dealt with was the future that came and went as the seconds ticked by. His legs were splayed out as if he was crooked starfish, with his legs tucked into his body so he could fit, his arms on his chest. He quite liked this position, as it was comfortable and relaxing, aside from how heavy his hands felt. He hoped he wouldn't have to move from this position, and that he wouldn't be bored to death. However, on this day, he was more energetic than normal. He might actually be able to stay awake this time. He had to find out.
 














Kenna/Basilisk




Mood: Psycho hehe

Location: Belle Reve

Interactions: Mentions Nova Red and Ciao






The lights around her were a hideous blur as she was dragged by her hidden ‘ally’ through the seemingly endless halls of Belle Reve. The drugs in her system had her both docile and out of sorts, her mind barely able to comprehend the hidden messages Nova had slipped to her as they struggled in her cell. Honestly it might be impressive to some if they knew that what had gone down was staged and Kenna had played her part while drugged out of her mind by the guards who came before Red. Kenna however was no stranger to having to function under the influence of drugs, on her more…rebellious days Nolander had taken to drugging her but still expecting her to function. It wasn’t a part of her past she enjoyed thinking about or reliving but it was in the end a useful skill to have. People who could fight and function under the influence of drugs they took willingly were one thing, but to be able to do the same when forced under the influence, that was a totally different and absolutely twisted skill. One not often sought after but picked up under…unfortunate circumstances.

By the time the normally feisty brunette beauty was tossed into a chair her vision was beginning to blur a bit less and the voices around her were becoming less shaky and broken. She could feel her senses returning to her as well and her arms itched to stretch out but alas the cuffs that bound her made that impossible. One of the worst feelings she dealt with every time the heavy dosage began its downward slope was the sensation of the collar around her neck. She was hyper-aware of the positioning of the electric prongs against her skin, the pain that still lingered from her most recent shock activation. It was awful. Her hatred for this collar ran deep and every day she dreamed of finally being free of it and ripping apart those who put it on her. She had already lived far too many years of her life with a collar branding her neck, she did not need another.

Blinking several times she focused on the podium at the front of the room. It was currently empty but the sight of it reminded her of what Nova had mentioned. This meeting would provide her an opportunity to make contact with the outside world. The sight of several more inmates being filed in had her quickly reviewing all Victorine had told her. She had a blurred memory of looking at a list and as per usual her hidden allies' intel proved useful as each name on that list was marched into the large meeting room and sat down around her. She wasn’t really let out to socialize much due to her…violent tendencies, but a few of these faces she recognized. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a young man, Ciao she remembered, looking her way. Mostly sobered up now she met his gaze with a dangerous yet seductive stare. He looked like he could be fun to break, in fact, he looked as though he had already been broken before. Delicious. She could tell by the way he stared at her before swiftly avoiding her gaze that he had already formed several opinions about her. Not surprising given her reputation. It wasn’t every day you met someone who wrecked the UN and allowed her pets to eat more than a handful of world leaders in one day.

Her attention was drawn away from those who had been assembled when a new figure entered the room. This was a face she did not know but instantly she was once again struck with the desire to see it twisted in pain. Whoever this woman was she looked far too regal and Kenna wanted to bring her to her knees and make her beg. Carefully she looked the woman standing before them up and down, as one might examine something they desire but in her eyes, it looked far more predatory, like a starving cat spotting a juicy mouse. Subconsciously the brunette began to subtly bite her lip as she sat back in her chair, irritated she was being kept from her desired bloodshed. When the woman began to speak the bloodlust she felt only grew, this woman truly did hold power and that pissed Kenna off more than anything.

BuggaBoo BuggaBoo Aviator Aviator





code by Stardust Galaxy
 
tw: dissociation, disorientation, drug side effects


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WILLIAM BLACKBURN / BILLY THE BLIGHT
Billy, still trembling and overwhelmed by the presence of others, was roughly pushed into a holographic cell. He tumbled into it in a disheveled heap, collapsing into a fetal position. The guards had unstrapped and unmuzzled him, but the oppressive collar remained.

Billy's world was a tumultuous sea of emotions as he was brought out of his stupor, not by curiosity, but by a profound disturbance. His immediate surroundings were swarming with people, and the very presence of others sent shivers down his spine. People, he loathed them. In his experience, people equaled trouble. They brought pain, whether through disdainful stares, mocking laughter, or physical, mental, and emotional attacks. Their words cut deep, and their fists struck harder.

Being surrounded made him uncomfortable, more than that, it made him angry, filled him with a profound sense of unease. His skin crawled at the mere thought of their presence. People, he knew, were not to be trusted. They had hurt him over and over again, and there was no room for goodness in his world. Goodness, if it existed, was a rarity, a distant memory.

His impulse was to escape, to retreat into the safety of solitude, to find his friends who had always comforted. But a cruel reality hit him like a tidal wave: he was cut off from his friends. He couldn't reach them anymore. The isolation and the overwhelming sense of being surrounded pushed him to the brink, and he trembled. Tears streamed down his cheeks, though it was difficult to discern through the curtain of unkempt black hair that fell over his face.





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DR. ELARA STERLING / NEXA

As the sedatives began to wear off, Elara felt a glimmer of hope as NEXA's voice started to sound clearer. However, it was short-lived as the collar's beeping signaled another injection of sedatives, shattering Nexa into a cacophony of a thousand voices once more. "God, help me," Elara thought, as she struggled with the relentless battle between clarity and the numbing effects of the drugs. The rollercoaster of her existence continued, a torment that seemed to have no end in sight.

As Elara was forcibly escorted down the corridor, the voices in her head reached a crescendo, causing an intense, pounding headache. She couldn't help but let out a desperate, "P-please," the words inadvertently slipping past her lips. The guards, however, misinterpreted her plea, assuming she was asking for gentleness in their handling, and slowed down, which actually helped with the headache, much to her relief.

NEXA, the cacophony of the interdimensional voices within her, had become nearly unbearable, and it seemed like they, too, recognized the presence of formidable individuals in the room they were entering. Elara's plea for silence went unanswered by the guards, but as soon as they crossed the threshold into the debriefing room, the voices of NEXA fell into an eerie hush.

Elara, her relief palpable, barely registered the room's occupants. She was too busy basking in the unexpected silence, her headache gradually subsiding. The strange assemblage of prisoners, the intense security, and the bizarre holographic cells all seemed distant concerns compared to the newfound tranquility in her mind.

Elara found herself in the peculiar holographic cell, and as the initial shock and relief of NEXA's silence settled, she began to survey her surroundings. Her cosmic instincts, guided by NEXA, compelled her to focus on one individual in particular: the Captain seated at the head of the table. There was an innate recognition of power and significance in this figure, and NEXA echoed in hushed, awed tones, reverently referring to them as a "Goddess" before falling silent once more.

As she took a closer look around the room, Elara began to realize that some of her fellow occupants were not just ordinary prisoners. In the faint recollection of the fragmented memories within her, she recognized a few of them as famous meta-humans she had seen in passing on television or in headlines. Her busy life studying for her doctorate had left her little time for mainstream media, but their faces triggered distant memories of the wider world beyond her research and isolation. The room was not only filled with dangerous inmates but also notable figures from the meta-human community, all brought together in this confounding setting.

The question echoed in both Billy and Elara's minds as they found themselves in this unfamiliar room with these familiar figures. The circumstances were far from promising, and the ominous atmosphere left them with a sinking feeling that whatever brought them here couldn't be anything good.
 
BAI YUAN YUE
Some try to shut my mouth and say I should swallow this forbidden fruit

insanity depravity demolition
the vampire
the red views keep ripping the divide
panic switch
silversun pickups
mood: curious
location: belle reve, meeting room
interactions: open
scroll
Yuan Yue could say with confidence that she had never met any of these people. Due to her volatility, she wasn't allowed to socialize with many (if any) of the other prisoners, lest they offer her their blood. It was a shame really. So much blood was better off in her stomach than coursing through the veins of Belle Reve's occupants. The bushy-browed, colorfully winged girl near her was at least interesting in appearance, although something sinister stirred within her.

Though her patron said nothing, he seemed almost bloodthirsty.

Something the matter, Glassy? she asked, a cheeky grin appearing on her face.

Drink her at the first opportunity. It'll do you good.

As quickly as he came, Glasya-Labolas disappeared, leaving Renegade to to her own devices. Was that girl an otherworldly entity? A fellow witch like herself? The wings were certainly odd, but her smell seemed more or less human. Still, if her patron was interested in something, she had an obligation to follow his orders.

It seemed he had no other comments regarding the woman with a snake tattoo nor the one who towered everyone in the vicinity. She swung her legs from her chair, scratching her collar as more people emerged. She crinkled her nose at the unimpressive figures as if she were admonishing the guards' choice in prisoners. How many inmates were supposed to be here anyway?

"Can we get this over with already?" she groaned, head tilted at the ceiling.

© reveriee
 













  • Host
    Earthborn Angel





    Sinead Breaux
    mood
    Nervous shifting to angry

    location
    "Debriefing Room"

    interactions
    Open

    tags
    non





designed by bad ending & coded by xayah.ღ
 
IMG_3411.jpeg
Aia
Location: Breifing room
Interactions: Open
Mentions: ISHTAR ISHTAR


Aia had quickly grown content with these strange treats she had been offered. Eating them down as they were given and honestly when she wasn’t wanting to kill everything around her some could call her behavior cute as she gingerly studied each cookie. Examining and sniffing it before scarfing it down only for her tongue to slighter from her mouth outwards towards the cookie lady to ask for more. So absorbed in the cookie that well she didn’t even noticed her confinement. Sadly for the security team and well the cookie lady, the moment the cookies stop flowing and darkness surprised her and Aia realized what had happened she was back to her vicious barrage of the box surrounding her and her calls and screams echoed down the hall. Luckily this time her chains didn’t break as they got to the door of her cell for the briefing room and everything got into position. The box was laid down with the door pressed against the cell door. One guard on the button for the cell the other on the cage with anxiety. Giving each other a hesitant count down before pressing them at the same time.

The very moment the doors were opened Aia sprung out of the box. Not noticing the glass like cage she thought she was free and well had sent herself full force and face first into the glass with a massive thud. Having propelled herself so fast her tail followed after her only making the collision more comical as it wrapped itself around her before she all fell to the ground and the doors closed behind her. A pained hiss escaping Aia’s lips as she collected herself. Shifting to a seated position on her knees her hands came up to rub at her face and forehead while she rocked at little. Even a cute whine escaped from her but any innocence or cuteness was quickly gone when she looked up to see the room around her and all the people in it.

Instantly Aia had gone back to predator hissing violently as she lunged at the glass hitting it once more. Then again and again and again till she’s tried lunging at everyone in the room though to no avail. Finally seeming to realize she wasn’t getting out her lunging died into a stalking movement as she crawled on all fours all over the cage. Her breathing heavy and constantly letting out a threatening chortles and clicks as her eyes watched everyone in the room though unknowing if her threatening calls even made it through the box. The box could have been entirely sound proof and all anyone could do was watch and not hear but Aia hadn’t the faintest clue. Eyeing every last detail and gauging every pray from weakest to hardest in her mind. Picking out who to go for first.

Or at least that was the case till the cookie lady would arrive. The moment the woman would show herself Aia dropped to the floor on her feet. That predatory look gone for big innocent wanting eyes as she pressed her hands against the glass and tried to call out to her with loud barks. Any sense of vicious beast was gone, replaced with excited wanting puppy as she stared wither down. Almost in excitement she would bark at Wither a couple times only to quickly drop on all fours, pace around in her box as best she could over her tail then jump back up to her hind legs with her hands on the window and bark at her some more to try and get more cookies. Again entirely unaware of if the box was sound proofed or not.
 
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Ahvelina and Markie




In Debriefing...

Yes, she was drugged up but even in this state, there was no way this was a hallucination. Walking up and down the aisles was her 'old friend' Victorine LaFontaine. But no matter how deep she dug internally, in this very moment the infernal rage and insurmountable hate she should have felt was nowhere to be found. No, dark eyebrows slanted away with concern, and, within those hazel eyes were the soft glow of something less than vengeance and closer to something else...

Wait. Was this not the one and the same blonde woman that had stepped on her and over her, digging those stiletto heels into her heart, resurrecting one of their very best friends used as a pawn only to attempt to assasinate Ahvelina?! Was this not the one and the same blonde woman that pushed her sole ambition forward in value and at the self-serving expense of their merc 'family', betraying their entire crew, leading to multiple deaths and Ahevelina's eventual capture?! Hell yeah, it was this one and the same blonde woman. But still... the big inked woman just could not help but feel happy for her nemesis.

Maybe it was just the irradiated narcotics but... Just look at Vixxi now! Dressed all crispy in that blue uniform. Walking like she knows and is all that but without that self-serving, 'look at my tits' bouncing strut. Wow, she actually moved like a professional and competant Specialty Case Agent. Ahvi snickered behind that muzzle. Well that's Co-agent Ass Parter to me hahahahahah.

She refocussed and shook her head as she marvelled at those confident blue eyes, so proud as she guided the other inmates to their cells. And would you look at that? It was an firm yet calm act without a single iota of entitlement, arrogance nor domination. Had she changed? For real though, had she changed for the better? Nah. It was probably just a figment of her imagination.

But still... what if...?

Hazel eyes traced the blonde's movements as she dropped off the inmates into those red-plasma gated cells. An about face and with a well practiced marching cadence she departed from her wards. Perfect LaFontaine white teeth flashed in a small grin as she moved over to Markina. The quirky genius smiled and waved back.

Not too long ago, the Latina had collared some limpy, gimpy shrimpy boy that seemed to be chatting up the Del Rios outlier. But for whatever reason, Markie was keeping her trap shut tight. Even through the fog of the irradiated narcotics she could see in Markie's dark eyes that she wanted to just let the verbal diarrhea explode out her mouth. In fact, she was literally biting her lips closed. Once more the big inked woman snickered as she pointed at the truth behind Markie's lab coat, I saw your paaaanties hahahahahah...!

Well, now it looked like Markina was going to drop off the limpy, gimpy shrimpy boy off into the cell next to Ahvi. Dark eyebrows knitted together when she heard the Latina whisper low to the shrimpy boy in Spanish. Something about chess...? Something about moving or protecting a 'queen'...? And it was a bit of an exageration but she made sure that shrimpy boy saw her fix her own collar. Such a nina rara con una boca grande. Motormouth weirdo... but still it was eerie how that motormouth was silent through it all.

Ahvelina just shrugged and chuckled as Markina had made eye contact with her. Those big dark eyes looked really, really big right now, like those Japanese cartoons-- but there was something more wasn't there? A bit more than an appreciative smile and knowing look she gave Ahvi. The big inked woman tried to give up a signature smile, wink and nod but instead could only manage to awkwardly flutter her eyelashes in a drugged up stupor.

Wait. Limpy, gimpy shrimpy was staring. No, like really staring. So much so that Ahvi had to look down at her chest to see if her orange top was still there. Yup. Still there, you silly billy bumbum girlie-- and and eyo look at that! I have a new nametag! Well, it was more like duct tape with sharpie scrawled on it. Someone had written on it like a grafitti tag; "
La Reina" Hahahahah... I'm a Queen... wut the actual eff in the face am I laughing at, hell yeah, I'm a Queen!

As if Shrimpy Boy in the cell next to her had denied her such a title she decided to do a double-middle finger blowing kiss flip off. Keep him in line to let him know who's alpha here.

But instead, Ahvi just wavered and scowled at him; apparently her arms were on strike at the moment. But in her head, she believed she had flipped him off and said some deadass, cold hearted words that would make old ladies wigs fly off their heads. But nothing except mumbles. Yeah, that'll learn him...


*Giggles*

And there it was. That laugh. Not a figment of her imagination. It really was her. The big woman turned her head through molasses to glance over at the lithe blonde.

Victorine's pair of blues met Ahvelina's pair of hazels.

After all this time. After all the anger and outrage. After all the planning and re-planning for what she would do when she met this evil traitor once more. After all that all she could muster was a wink.

Oh but it was more than that. It was a promise. There would be more than blood spilt when she was done. A single wink would signal the commencing of the inevitable onslaught. That and a middle finger tattooed on a middle finger salute cuz why not...

But no. Ahvelina just fluttered her eyelashes. It was all she could muster. And the middle finger? She held up a shaky palm to Victiorine, fingers seemingly giving a weak 'come hither' motion. And the death daggers firing from her eyes? Absent. No, in their place that dopey-eyed appreciative look returned. Awwww... just look at her all important like in that uni... maybe we can fix this...?

Of course, the blonde didn't come over; no response that she noted at any rate. Ahvi let out a sound not unlike a tire losing air and waved her hand. She was so over it as of now. Ahvi closed her eyes and sighed. There was no fix between them.

Suddenly she perked up as a commotion befell Debriefing. Pupils dilated as she saw two things of interest enter the room.

One was a giant casket of some kind harbouring what looked to her like a strange giant sperm wriggling around. Ewww. The other however, was even more strange. But lovelier than the day the facility doors opened and she saw blue skies for the first time ever.


"Awww... My little sister has so much hair now..."





Nova Red and Pixie





"Alrighty then ladies... y'all play nice together, y'hear?"

Nova set each of Yue, Kenna and Sinead into their cells and powered the red beams on to cut them off from their freedoms. She had tried to sell not caring for Kenna's well being by tossing her into the chair in the middle of the cell. Maybe a bit too much of an oversell; Kenna nearly fell to the floor. But perhaps it was a boon afterall since the slinky brunette seemed to come around to her senses that much more.

One thing that she did not expect was that the syringe injection would put out her former ally. It seemed as if Belle Reve had revamped their serums to perfectly deal with each individual metahumans. Nova made note to make sure she talked with walking-mouth bff about the new doses.

"Pixie!" a signature pearly white grin she flashed her friend and sauntered on over to the Latina, "darlin' I didn't expect you to be doing Security role here. Come. Sit next to me...!"

'Pixie' as she would be known in the Debriefing returned the smile and held up a brown hand in greeting, "Hola, Nova...! Ey yeah, all good, chico just a Numbie. Harmless right? Oh! This place is like all nervous energy up in here, right? So like who's La giganta over there? Oh! Know what? There was this one time that--"

"Alto ahi, Motorin'," Nova literally pinched her friend's lips closed to stop the verbal machine gunning. Yeah, she knew her that well, "well, I don't rightly know. But we'll find out soon enough who's behind that uni. Pretty intense tho, amirite? So ya'll think we can take her?" *Giggles*


"Si. You just one punch her and I think I might have just the collar that can fit ogres..." Pixie said out the side of her mouth. She pushed Nova's fingers from her mouth and continued talking, "Oh! But for real now, you should soooooo check out the new hardware we been workin' on in labs. See that? On the new inmate there? Check out the new inhibitor collar, chica-chica! Whatchu think? So this one is different. It goes directly into her spine. Cuz like..."

The moment Nova turned to face the new inmate, her friends voice faded off into the ether. Dazzling blue eyes met smouldering hazel ones for the first time in what was a lifetime ago. Hell had apparently froze over.

Reflexively Nova's hands balled into tight fists, readying to launch deadly plasma at her 'old friend.' But those hazel eyes... There was not a single drop of hellfire in them. No, wait. What even was that? Nova's breath hitched a moment. The blonde then gasped as she recognized the look of those hazel eyes. That was the look of someone that saw her as family...

"Ahvelina..." it was but a whisper. The big inked woman with the muzzle on her face was motioning for her to come over. Slender fingers released from the fists. Hands rushed together, clasped at her chest. Then with a heartfelt sigh escaping through a tender smile, "Oh Deevi..."

Nova would take the once in a lifetime chance. She would rush over to the cell, undo the red beams, throw her arms around the Amazon that was Ahvelina and repeatedly say her name into her tattooed neck, weeping all the while. She would make it better. She swore, she would make it all better--

No. For that was not meant to be. Of course it was never meant to be.

Blue eyes burned green deadly fire as she saw the look upon Ahvelina's face once she spied Shine. And then there was that look upon Shine's face when she saw Ahvelina... It was happening all over again wasn't it? Ahvelina was going to steal her bestest friend in the whole widest world. Again. Ahvi and Nouvelle were going to love each other more than her. They were going to be new best friends and leave poor, poor lil' ol' Vixxi behind. All by herself.

"All alone..."

The green fire in her eyes turned into an inferno. Her hands fell to her sides and balled into fists once more. No, this would never happen again. She would never be left alone. Ever again.

Pixie had rushed over to greet Shine, babbling away with great curiosity over the albino off-terran subject. But Nova herself had zero-percent curiosity regarding the alien creature at the moment. No, her curiosity was aimed toward her lab-coat wearing Latina friend's gadgets.

She wondered if Pixie had access to the device that would blow Ahvelina's head off.

 
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Caio McCarthy // “Whiplash” // Age 26 // Inmate // Getaway Driver // Brazilian-American

A peculiar look crossed Markina’s face as Caio spoke to her. He briefly pondered the strangeness of that idea… talking to Markina, rather than being talked at by the loquacious heiress to a criminal throne. A muscle twitched in her upper lip and then another in her throat as she alternated between staring at Caio with an intense urgency and then letting her gaze sweep across the rest of the room, as if she were a celebrity in disguise that he had recognized and she was gauging how much damage had been done on a public scale. A deep breath left Markina, the only indication that she had yielded to his request to be placed in the corner cell by the tattooed, muzzled woman. Maybe. Without waiting to see if he followed, Markina swiveled and padded across the room, maintaining her laconic guise. Caio took this as acquiescence and shuffled after her, keeping several paces behind Markina. She’d made it clear that she didn’t want to talk to him.
Standing before the empty cell with only three walls of red plasmic bars, Markina stopped Caio only to unfasten his handcuffs. She continued to avoid his gaze, muttering something so low that, between the volume and the fact that the words were Spanish, he was struggling to register it even as she prodded him into the cell. Caio turned to ask her meaning, distracted when the fourth column of red lights blinked into existence. Markina seized the opportunity to escape and flounced away at a brisk pace, her body a rigid line of tension. So much for friends till the end. Glad to see you too, Markie, Caio thought, disappointed but not terribly surprised. After all, he was a lowly inmate, while she was a hotshot young inventor with those million degrees under her belt. Being overly familiar with him would cramp her style.
Caio watched her flit toward Miss Nova Red, and the two ladies held court in the center of the room. Then, losing interest in Markina, he let his eyes rove toward the towering woman with the raven hair caged next to him, the one whom he had fought so hard to get a place next to. He fixated on a curious detail he hadn’t noticed before, at a distance: a strip of duct tape plastered above her heart, reading La Reina in bold, shaky letters. Caio’s written Portuguese was rough, and his ability to read Spanish was sometimes a shot in the dark. It took him a minute to puzzle out that reina meant rainha, which in turn meant queen. By the time he figured out that was what Markie’s mysterious chess reference had been alluding to and lifted his gaze, La Reina had noticed him staring. She watched Caio, still as a coiled snake behind those glowing red lasers. You want to protect the queen, chico? Well, be my guest, Markina had mocked him prior to her hasty departure. But one look at La Reina and her cold, assessing stare told him that she didn’t need the protection of any mortal man. She looked vaguely incensed as she gazed at him, scowling and unblinking, and Caio wasn’t sure if it was a result of his attention or her predicament of being muzzled and caged.
Caio raised his head at her once in a silent nod of acknowledgment and considered the matter settled. He turned away, and after a beat passed, continued watching La Reina out of the corner of his eye. He remembered the gossip that he had exchanged with Zheng over dinner last night, that a new inmate had been locked away in the depths of the Pit. A transhuman inmate with mechanical parts and a kill list that would eclipse most professional hit men’s, as if he were a modern-day real-life Terminator. Was it possible that he was really a she, and La Reina and the Terminator were the same person? After all, given Belle Reve’s level of criminal exclusivity, it wasn’t like a new inmate was brought to the prison every day. It was a pretty big deal when that happened, and rumors had a way of spreading like wildfire. Surely there wouldn’t be two new inmates in the span of a few days, no?
Caio discreetly followed La Reina’s line of sight. She was paying him no mind anymore, her warm golden gaze fixed on something in the center of the room. Or, more likely, someone. Caio figured it out only because a minute ago he’d been looking in the same direction, at Markina. But the hyperactive Latina inventor was not the big fish in the pond. Rather, the likelier candidate who commanded this formidable woman’s stare was Markina’s conversational partner, a woman with silken honey hair and a pair of perky assets that her blue uniform did little to hide. As if hearing La Reina’s thoughts, Victorine LaFontaine turned mid-sentence, angling her body toward the cells in the corner of the room. Her blue eyes glittered like winter sunlight on ice as they pierced those of Caio’s neighbor, who in turn wiggled her fingers in a beckoning gesture. Or maybe it was just a half-hearted wave. It was sloppy, whatever the motion was. Which Caio was surprised to see, given the intensity of La Reina’s stare. She had a powerful presence, and it was clear that she wasn’t used to taking orders blindly.
Without acknowledging the tattooed inmate, LaFontaine swung back to her conversation, crossing her arms as if to create a barrier between herself and the rest of the world. At the silent dismissal, a fuming gasp of air left the muzzled woman’s mouth, like a bull goaded by a matador’s flag. Even though Nova Red had ended the brief staredown, La Reina’s gaze didn’t waver, staring bullets into the Specialty Case Agent. Her breathing was so conspicuously loud that Caio darted a nervous side-eye at her, a little worried. There was a tremulous hitch in those breaths, as if this proud Amazon were inexplicably on the verge of tears. She approached the bars at the front of the cell, hands extending as if to clutch them.
Not knowing what the consequences of touching the red rods of light would be and not wanting to find out, Caio sensed it was time to intervene. “Do you know her?” he cut in swiftly. La Reina’s head snapped toward him, as if astonished that a stranger would dare address her so directly. Aware that his stony countenance wasn’t too expressive of emotion, Caio forced the corners of his lips into the smallest of smiles, inviting further conversation. Well, if the woman weren’t muzzled, that is. Aware that she couldn’t very well respond and that he’d drawn her attention, awkwardness prickled through Caio, and he grasped for more words to break their silent stalemate. It didn’t come naturally, and he blurted the first ridiculous thoughts to come to his mind. “That one’s just hell without the handbasket, as I’m sure you’ll find out if you don’t know already. Little Red Riding Hood bringing her grandmother cyanide instead of cookies. But that’s pretty par for the course here at Belle Reve.”
 
Interactions BuggaBoo BuggaBoo RikuXIII RikuXIII

The snark left Sinead's mouth, and Keeley had to wonder why she'd referred to all the inmates as the clean up crew. He hadn't been trying to focus on her powers at all, just found the wings pretty, as seen by he stared at them for far longer than 'you are a freak.' It was more like: 'well shit, that's cool'. He looked at his corner neighbor, and his eyes had confusion contained within them.
"Is she referring to us as trash?"He thought, and nearly mumbled aloud. He still couldn't decide whether or not to be ever so slightly offended.

As soon as Nova Red began to giggle, Keeley couldn't hide his expression, and he stared far more at her than at Sinead.
"The fuck?" He mumbled, still not over the fact that Nova laughed all the time, and in a flirty way as well. At first he had found it slightly adorable, but now he wondered if it might not be scare-the-pervs-away tactic. He covered his ears slowly, and before, he'd wanted the meeting to start. But, now he wanted it to be over. He shifted in his cell again, away from the giggling, and into more a relaxed position.

His curiosity made him want to hold out just a bit longer. The warden was here, the guards were here, the inmates were here and he was here, in a little corner, feeling a mixed feeling about meeting here. The one pleasant surprise: the dear doctor was not here to observe. Sometimes, Keeley couldn't recall Dr.Allister's name. While part of it was brain fog, part of it was Keeley being annoyed enough by the guy that he tried to not remember Dr.Allister's name. Sidon, who he liked far better, was there. Fitting, as Sidon was a guard, but still, there didn't seem to be anyone who he hated. Everyone he either was friends with, got along with, or didn't know who they were. One of them was an inmate he hadn't seen before, well, several. But, he'd never heard of her before.

The inmate he has never heard of before was Gunmother, though he didn't know her name yet. Who was she, why was she there? His time at Bella Reve had made him question why one had been there, but especially himself. He had no clue what he was doing there a lot of the time. He wasn't violent, slept for long stretches of time where he felt fatigued, and was one of the physically weakest inmates with little endurance. Yet, this would be his second or third year, and he had survived here all this time. Maybe that was why, as he didn't pose a threat to anyone here. Or maybe, slightly, he was hardy. After all, he had been beaten up, and by sheer will, convinced himself that the pain had come from a flare.
 

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