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|| Dining Room || First chair towards the door, on the left ||

Much had occurred over the course of approximately 60 minutes in the dining room. The members of the cast had risen from their slumber one by one, taking in at their own pace the reality of being placed in an unfamiliar environment for reason unknown. Those that had been socialized properly, remembered their past and/or were from a project without a primary combat focus had been the ones to initiate positive interactions within the group. Meanwhile, those that had been used as solo combat units or had scored low in their communication tests during solitude displayed cautious behaviour and either waited for others to approach them or avoided interaction entirely.
Thus far, all was within the range of expectations for the scientific team, who observed the subjects through hidden cameras.

To the delight of the team, 88% of all test subjects showed non-maliciousness and moderate to keen interest in collaboration.

Of the remaining 12%, 6% were represented by one individual, test subject Cetus, who had an unprovoked violent outburst upon awakening and attempted acts of untargeted violence, yet was effectively mitigated by his inhibitor. The device worked in full capacity and without delay, providing much needed feedback in this early stage of the experiment. Another positive outcome was the first possible display of courtship behaviour in the form of test subject Damocles placing himself between test subjects Boryan and Cetus, as the latter was approaching the former with aggression. Due to the fact that test subject Boryan’s unique appearance suggests he is capable of combat and his actions had established him as one of the dominant males, there has been no evidence to support other reasons for Damocles’s behaviour, other than at attempt to display his potential as a suitable mate. Further observation will be required to confirm this hypothesis and whom the display was meant for.

The last 6% were represented by the second Atlantis test subject participating in the Fate Project – Jack Beaumont.
Since he fell into the first group, as he was properly socialized, preserved his memories and was not primarily used for combat, it had been assumed that he would have partaken in the first bonding session and even served as one of its main catalysts. Yet for a prolonged period of time, he remained seated, feigning sleep and showing no intention of- . . .


🍷

In the first seat on the left, at the table's end towards the door, sat a young man in a seemingly unpleasant position. Though his initial posture was most dignified, sleep had touched him so tenderly that his arms had loosely fallen to his sides, his bottom had slightly slipped forward and his heck had bent back to the point where his face was facing the ceiling. Like Hipparchus observing the stars as he wrote his Star Catalogue or a chicken suffering from vitamin B1 deficiency. Regardless of what came to mind, anyone who saw him would feel their own neck stiffen a bit. Yet what was more disquieting was that he, Jack Beaumont, was fully awake.

Listening to all that had been said, it was as if Thalia’s own golden ichor was running through his veins as the young man maintained that very appearance and evenness of breath. If you were to ask him, he would assure you that there was no need to rush. From the sound of it, the group was coming to grips with reality rather well and were a lively bunch, too. The one right next to him sounded like a stick-in-the-mud-with-a-brain-on-top sort of guy, while the one directly in front of him seemed to have less of the mud and more of the sunshine of Apollo. There was also the one who had spoken the longest, Boryan Cappello, for whom the room had fallen silent. This was the only name Jack had bothered to remember. He didn’t need the light of day to recognize who he’d have to reply on in whatever variety show the Seekers had signed him up for.

An exchange of opinions. Some friendly, some spicy, but most of all - predictable. The tedious introductions had been coming to an end when something happened. A door opened and the first brave ignorant souls waltzed out of the room. Just as the thought of stirring came to Jack’s mind, the official announcement came and he settled back down in the evenly painted black space that was his mind. He anticipated that the greenhorns among them would likely have an exaggerated reaction. It was quite typical for those little sprouts that wanted to catch the spotlight as much as possible. Whether they cried or got rowdy, this seasoned actor had no desire to play nanny. Why waste your energy on something you found boring? This was a mandatory question when Jack formed his priority list. Once the little birds stopped chirping about, he would commence his awakening and gracefully introduce himself as their senior. If they were as interesting as they sounded, he could even throw them a welcome drink. Until then, however, he would continue enjoying the leisure of not being bothered and doing nothing.

"WHY AM I
AWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?”


That is, until Aries entered the chat.

That familiar explosion of a bear’s roar in the middle of a dark cave on the island of Lemnos was enough to not only open Jack’s wide blue eyes. No, he choked and tossed his upper torso forward, but since he had been leaning back, he had no balance, thus he slid, grasped air and fell to the side on the cold hard tile floor. Without his chair, of course, because it had been bolted to the ground. Yet this minor inconvenience was not enough to lower his eyelids as he stared wide-eyed in the direction of the outcry.

“WHAT IS THIS?! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! ARE YOU SH*TTING ME!? A CAT? WHAT ELSE DID THEY MAKE? THE WHOLE CAST OF HOMEWARD BOUND!?”

‘Are you FOR REAL. No joke. He’s here.
The man.
The Myth.
THE L.E.G.E.N.D.’


Jack cupped his hands in front of his mouth, withholding any sound that could have come out and alerted the raging man. From the angle of a person lying on the floor at the end of the table opposite the group of people where the commotion was happening, what he could see were two young women standing beside and in front of a pink-haired sleeping seated damsel and outlines of what was most likely the aforementioned giant cat in front of them. The voice that sent reverberations through the air, like a mad brass gong, belonged to none of them, however. Its owner needed not reveal his name to Jack, for they had become acquainted 2 years ago.
It was Cetus.

“WHY IS SHE STILL ASLEEP!?” he had changed his position, so that his tall frame was now in plain sight, towering over the girls, when he snapped his head at them.

'OH MY GOD, HIS HAIR!'

“I WANT THAT TO BE ME! WHY. AM. I. AWAAAKE?!" the short-haired red-head bellowed.

'RAPUNZEL, RAPUNZEL, LET DOWN YOUR HAIR. Ooops, sorry, darling, I went to the salon yesterday~🌟. HE LOOKS LIKE A TURNIP.' Jack was shivering in amusement as his grip on his mouth became tighter and he bent his knees, bringing his legs closer to his abdomen. Cetus belonged to the same division as he did, the Atlantis Division. As promising test subjects, they had been put under training together, in hopes of creating a unit that could win more favor from investors. During that period of time, the 190-cm-tall poplar had always had long lush hair that reached bellow his waist, creating the appeal of a mysterious handsome figure. What had compelled the Seekers to trim that flame-stroked mane to a short cut was a mystery and as a patron of mysteries, Dionysus gave a toast to it.

“Hey! You need to calm down, dude! Mr. Cappello was nice enough to get you up." one of the girls attempted to placate the Nemean lion.

'Oh. oH. She throws the ball.' Jack announced in his mind as he used right arm to push himself up a bit, as if he wanted to see the trajectory of the "ball".
“SHUT UP!” Cetus retorted and, after a single inhale, "“!@#!$#@$%@$%$#^%!!!!!!!!!!!!" sent out curses and blasphemies that would give you the impression you were inside a taxi in the Balkans.
'AND HE STRIKES!' Jack bent forward and hit the floor with his forehead, all in an attempt to keep himself quiet. He had to endure, so that he could continue being a spectator of this marvelous comedy.

“YOU WANNA DIE?”

The threatening question made Jack lift his head up once more, the pink spot where his skin had made contact with the tiles quickly fading. To his disappointment, the inquiry wasn't directed at him, but at a man, who had stepped forward to confront Cetus.

“If only I could be so fortunate- but let’s not deal in haste. Are you hurt?” the pococurante spoke.

'Oh, a fellow death-seeker. His voice is the same as the one who sat next to me. No wonder. Birds of a feather get shot together, right?.' Jack mused.

“W-.... WHAT?! F*CK OFF, Mary Poppins!”

'Ah, well, that works, too.'

At this point, Jack's mirth had tempered down and he lazily lounged on the floor, cheek resting in his right palm as his upper body was curved upwards. Like a majestic walrus that feared no land-dweller, he watched as his colleagues continued enacting the scene, his smile ever-present. Cetus had burnt his candle more than halfway through and lost height, both metaphorically and physically. He had weakly hunched over, holding his ginger head, but remained in full view, panting and glaring daggers at all who approached. Mary Pop-ins took this golden opportunity to enlighten the poor youth regarding the fact that his actions could have unpleasant consequences and assured him that none wished him harm. To this, Jack lowered his gaze and sighed.

Although he fully agreed with the blue-eyed stranger, he knew well that such words of reason easily flew into one ear and came out the other. Cetus had never been the sort to seriously consider others's advice. Even when it seemed like he was listening or when he had burnt his hand after touching the stove, he would rather hold onto his precious pride and stubbornness than put a bit of work into becoming better. It was a song that Jack had sung and no longer fancied. Thus, he pitied his fellow death-enthusiast and could only smile at the inevitable downfall of his attempt.

Contrary to his prediction, what followed was a most puzzling sight. The pink nymph blossomed into the land of the mortals and rose from her seat. From behind the two women she gracefully stepped, bare feet making not a sound. A pale petit maiden she was, flowing through the stream of life at a height shorter than those that were present. Her voice, as soft as goose down, fell upon the world with a soothing melody, creating a moment of stillness and serenity. Carefully following every movement of this delicate creature, Jack recognized that this was her ability. It was quite similar to his own and he remained unaffected by its willful influence over the moods of others. Whether it was due to his immediate realization or a natural weakening when two powers of the same type collided, Jack did not know, but it didn't stop him from commending her marvelous talent and giving her a nod.

'Mmm. Good. Very good control. Refined, mellow. I can definitely work with that. And if she plays an instrument, it will be eve- HOLD UP.'

Jack's hands went to the floor so that they may lift him up a bit more in his effort to catch every bit of information from what was transpiring in front of his eyes. The lovely songstress stood before the red-haired colossus, tipping her head back so that she may peer upwards at him, her melody having grown stronger, but ever so gentle. That rabid unmannerly giraffe, in turn, looked down and was bedazzled by her charm. His eyebrows smoothened, his breathing relaxed and the fire within his eyes was replaced by the twinkling of stars.

Jack's mouth hung loosely opened.

That little girl and that angry telephone pole were gazing deep into each other's eyes, existing in that instance in a two-person world. If this was a novel, the author would write that the roses bloomed within the garden and the tender spring breeze swept their red petals up into a waltz around the two, who were at present only strangers, yet their hearts knew, without a need for words, that they had waited for this moment since their first dawn.

"Pffff, ha-Ha, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" Jack could take it no longer.

The young man's laughter rang across the room, akin to a bell that called for joyous celebration. Loud, unrestrained and enthralling, it invited all to join him in his revelry as he slammed his fist on the floor, tears glistening in his tightly shut eyes. Cheeks full and rosy from elation, he looked up with a grin, only to burst out laughing again when he saw Cetus's face. This time he fell on his back and placed a hand on his stomach, speaking between his gasps for air, mingled with the tremors of laughter.

"The look on YOUR FACE. Haha. It's so sweet, I'M GETTING DIABETES. AH! The beauty, the affectionate downcast gaze, THE BLUSH. You look like a high-school boy in one of those cheesy rom-coms! Good thing they cut your hair so we'd see it all, huh, KETY? OH, the JOY. I bet Hera would LOVE seeing you FINALLY make a face other than "murder" and "poker". I AM SPEECHLESS."


code by @Nano
 
Last edited:
Merrit Anderson
The Dragon



Gael is staring a bit. There was a point in time where such unabashed scrutiny would’ve had Merrit ducking away nervously, but nowadays that kind of thing was more normal than not. Heck, it had taken Merrit some time to adjust to the new version of himself, so he can’t blame the guy for being curious. Turns out that the cure to being self-conscious is to spend a few months under constant surveillance. Who would have thought?


'I really hope there isn't. I hate fighting. Besides, I think this is a good thing. I don't know about you but I'm glad not to be tucked away in a cell.'


Do you have a lot of experience fighting? Merrit wants to ask that question, but it’s a bottle he’d rather not open yet. Domocles hadn’t answered Merrit’s earlier inquiry before leaving to explore the rest of the facility. Merrit couldn’t shake the feeling that he should be careful not to reveal too much information either. As far as first impressions went, Merrit liked Gael. It was too early to tell, but it was looking like he might actually have an ally in this whole mess. Even if it was hard not to see Gael as someone who needed to be protected. Merrit didn’t know if he was just naturally friendly—maybe even a bit naive—or he was unconcerned because he could afford to be. It could be either, or it could even be both. Adding super powers to the mix didn’t make it any easier to read people. A psychologist would have a field day here. The thought of someone trying to get everyone here to cooperate with being interviewed makes the corner of his lips twitch upwards in amusement. Then he remembers that’s not too far from the truth and he sobers back up to reality.

“Yeah….” Merrit looked around the room. “It’s better I guess.” Gael’s not wrong. First impressions have got him agreeing that their new situation is better for sure. That said….he also doesn’t want it to distract from their overall predicament. He doesn’t know their reasons—the Seekers had him on a need to know basis and if didn’t relate to his progress as Fafnir, then he didn’t need to know—but despite this upgrade from isolation, that doesn’t change their status as prisoners. Although…not everyone seems to be as stressed as him regarding the situation. Mercury, Boyran, Sondor, Marina. They had all been given some influence about the ongoing proceedings. The announcement from Dolly implied that these weren’t without consequence, but that was a step up from the freedoms Merrit himself had experienced so far. So what was it then? Had they simply been here longer than him, or were these people somehow in league with the Seekers from the start? Did people….volunteer for whatever was going on? And if that was the case, why had he been taken instead? So many questions…Thankfully it looked like there should be lots of opportunities to finally get some kind of answers. It’s a start, at least. One I should start taking advantage of, A.S.A.P.

Curious to get working on this puzzle, Merrit got up from his seat. Or well….he attempted to at least. He tried to get up and push himself away from the table first only to discover that his chair had been bolted to the floor. That was a measure Project Tiamat hadn’t taken in any of their rooms. He and they operated with the understanding that if Merrit wanted a chair, then he wouldn’t do anything to give them reason to take it away. Anything that wasn’t necessary for his survival…well. You either cooperated or got used to an empty room.

“I dunno about you, but I’m ready to figure the rest of this place out,” Merrit said once he’d finally freed himself from the table, twisted around to give the room a deciding lookover. There wasn’t much need for him to stick around at this point. Those still asleep already had people working on waking them up and for all intents and purposes the announcement implied that things were going as planned. While Merrit was…. hesitant to cooperate with the Seekers at all, he was admittedly curious to learn more about their current situation. For now at least, he wasn’t being asked to hurt anyone and the opportunity to stretch his legs and explore the place was more appealing than he was willing to admit.

“WHY AM I—


AWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?”


Merrit flinched backward from the sudden scream coming from further down the table. He zeroed in on the source of the scream to find that it had come from a tall, thin man with buzz-cut hair who apparently possessed the lungs of an Olympic swimmer. Despite the distance between them, Merrit could still make out the other experiment’s name tag. Apparently his name was Cetus. Merrit couldn't tell if that was his real name or the moniker given to him by the Seekers.

“ARE YOU SH*TTING ME!? A CAT? WHAT ELSE DID THEY MAKE? THE WHOLE CAST OF HOMEWARD BOUND!?”

Whatever he might have expected, this certainly wasn’t it. A retort danced on the tip of Merrit’s tongue, but he snapped his mouth shut as the more sensible half of his brain caught up to the situation at hand. This wasn’t a fire that he wanted to feed. The man’s eyes were already glowing—no doubt he was trying to call on his powers, whatever those might be. Merrit couldn’t see anything, but a familiar smell reached his nostrils. Was he a firestarter of some sort? Nothing seemed to be happening. Well, at least not to the human eye. But Merrit wasn’t human anymore—at least not completely. He focused on his sense of vision, concentrating until he felt the strange sensation of something shift within his eyes.

Between one blink and the next, all of the fine details had drained from Merrit’s perception. The human body produced enough heat that people positively glowed in Dragonsight. In comparison, the majority of the room faded into darkness; a uniform cool surface with little in the way to distinguish it—except where someone’s touch had left a temporary trail on the surface of the table, or the shadow of their silhouette had yet to fade from a chair. Anything metal glittered enticingly, but he ignored it in favor of examining his target.

Specifically Merrit was most concerned about Cetus and the area surrounding him. Cetus’ body temperature was slightly above normal, but not enough to be dangerous. The cuffs around his limbs were a different story. The glittering bands were heated up to the point of appearing bright yellow—implying they were very hot indeed. So maybe the burning smell wasn’t the result of his power, but rather his inhibitor. That was interesting and also the first time Merrit had seen someone else’s restraints in action. Whatever kind of power Cetus had, it seemed like he’d been completely cut off from using it despite his best efforts. His curiosity sated, Merrit switched back to his normal vision immediately. Dragonsight came with the side effect of making his eyes glow brighter and he was trying to limit what he revealed about himself as much as possible. If it hadn’t been for the giant distraction named CETUS then he probably wouldn’t have been so quick to use it while in range of the others just yet.

“WHY IS SHE STILL ASLEEP!?” Cetus snapped his head at Marina, though Deon stood in front of her with furrowed brows and an incredulous glare as he turned on her. “I WANT THAT TO BE ME! WHY. AM. I. AWAAAKE?!

“Hey! You need to calm down, dude! Mr. Cappello was nice enough to get you up." Deon said, having meanwhile taken to trying to reason with Cetus. She seemed to have a decent head on her shoulders. He respected her for trying, even though it was becoming more obvious whatever train of logic Cetus was operating on, it was probably on a different track than everyone else in the room. Nearby, Quinn bristled from her position beside Marina, having shifted at some point from trying to wake her up to shielding the sleeping girl. If he swiveled his ears just the right way, he could hear something like a growl coming from her direction. If the horns hadn’t clued him in, this would have been cause enough to suspect she might be some sort of beast-like experiment.

Next to Gael, the woman who’d introduced herself as Verity sat frozen in her seat, watching the proceedings like a hawk. Her hands had balled into fists and her knuckles turned white from clenching them. Merrit couldn’t read her well enough to tell if she was fascinated or abhorred by the scene, or maybe just confused by the entire situation. Other than her initial introduction, she’d not said a word. Beware the quiet ones, whispered some voice in the back of Merrit’s mind. He couldn’t remember where that came from.

Further down the table, across from Cetus’ former seat, Sonny, for all intents and purposes, looked like he was enjoying the situation. Merrit had a bad feeling about what that would mean for any future ‘training’ sessions that the other man helped with. He’d also noticed that the little orb-creatures had all turned their focus on Cetus with an eerie sort of synchronicity. Yikes.

“YOU WANNA DIE?”

And on the topic of Cetus. The other man still hadn’t calmed at all. If anything he seemed to be progressively ramping up. Obviously their restraints were at play and the Seekers didn’t intend to let them get seriously hurt, but Merrit glanced back at Gael. Merrit wasn’t a huge guy, but from what he could tell Cetus was mostly skin and bones. I really don’t think Cetus will be a problem, but honestly this entire situation is just a mess. Merrit spared a look around the room for the hidden cameras, if only to make it clear to whoever was watching that he found their plan absurd. He didn’t know the fine details about how the experimentation process worked, but the idea of finishing their work only to throw them in the same room together and just hope for the best was absurd. I don’t understand the Seekers at all. But I guess I don’t have to understand them. Just survive whatever they plan to throw at us—and maybe whatever isn’t nailed down to the ground. Literally. Someone had clearly thought ahead with the chairs. He watched Cetus move one chair to the next and a part of him wondered: Did they know he would do this?

“Stupid,” Cetus spat, moving on from the chairs to tossing a wad of crushed streamers away from himself. From the corner of his eye, Merrit saw one of the Orbies zip after it, no doubt intending to turn it into a meal along with the rest of the party-favors.

“Feel better?” Reese asked him.

“NO.” Cetus snarled. “I HATE waking up from anesthesia.”

Merrit’s eyebrows stitched together and he narrowed his eyes in speculative confusion. All of that for something as simple as waking up? Hate to break it to you bud, but I think that’s going to be the least of your issues. That said, it didn’t look like Cetus was all that interested in actually fighting someone. He’d had the opportunity to take a swing at Reese and had redirected his frustration on another chair instead. If Merrit was a betting man, he’d be taking the odds for this being a very dramatic bluff.

"Listen," Reese ushered forth, placing one hand on the metal table and leaning over Cetus so that his words more easily directed themselves at the younger man. "If you do that again, we may lose privileges. None of us wish you any harm." Reese had moved so that he had Boryan covered. That was somewhat unexpected given some of his earlier comments. Merrit hadn’t exactly pegged him as the protective type, but that shows how first impressions aren’t the be all and end all.

“Reese is right. We’re all in the same boat,” Merrit added. Although I’m also pretty sure that we’re the kind of metaphor stranded at sea instead of cruising ‘round the bay on vacation. “And by the looks of it, we’ll be staying here for a while.” For better or worse.

“Sheesh, what drugs did they give you?" Mercury is commenting, when Merrit catches a pink streak of movement from the corner of his eye.

Marina had finally awakened. She approached Cetus with a determined air about her and an almost single-minded focus. Partway on her path, she began to hum a melody. Merrit wasn’t much of a singer himself, but her voice was lovely. Calming. He could listen to it all day. He was starting to feel like maybe he should just sit down and rela….It took himself a few seconds to realize that it was literally having some sort of effect on him. Merrit was a calm guy, but right now he was entirely too calm. The buildup of adrenaline that had been buzzing in his veins since the altercation’s start had been halted entirely. However, as soon as he’d noticed the effect Marina’s voice was having on him, it seemed to lose some of its strength.

Merrit shook his head and focused his attention away from the sound. It seemed to work. He felt like he could still fall back into that relaxed state if he let himself drift along with her voice, but that…wasn’t a good idea. No. He was already too familiar with where that path could lead. Emotional manipulation was to be avoided at all costs. Whatever the true extent to her abilities, Marina’s focus was on Cetus, though. So, Merrit took a deep breath and pushed all thoughts of accidental-or-otherwise-manipulation-powers into the mental storage box labeled Future Worries. He understood her intention and didn’t want to escalate the situation, but he also didn’t want to let his guard down just yet. Try to limit the unexpected surprises by…well…not getting taken by surprise. Funny how that works.

There was a muffled thump further down the table. Merrit looked away to see Sonny halfway fallen from his chair. He had one arm looped over the top and his head was rolling off to the side with a glassy-eyed look that said he wasn’t all there. It probably wouldn’t have taken much more than a slight breeze to send him the rest of the way to the floor. “S’pretty,” the man slurred. What exactly he was referring to wasn’t clear though.

“No encores please, we're gonna check out that thing, uh, Training Room. Having fun Sleeping Beauties, I'll wake you tomorrow." Mercury was suddenly at Sonny’s side and scooping the small blond man up. The two of them are out the door as fast as he can carry them, with the majority of the Orbies trailing behind them. Well, shit. The training instructors had bailed. Although to give them some credit, it looked like Sonny had been hit hardest by Marina’s power and Mercury was only trying to help. For the most part, it looked like such a strong reaction wasn’t the norm. Merrit was beginning to understand a bit more why Marina had been given some measure of responsibility by the Seekers if she had the ability to keep things from escalating, although judging by Sonny’s reaction it was looking like the effectiveness varied. Whatever the case, he was just glad that there was finally—

"Pffff, ha-Ha, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

Fuuuuuck. Merrit felt his heart sink. They’d been so close.



Dining Hall
Not Impressed
White Uniform
Eliruz Eliruz Silvercurrent Silvercurrent (mentions a lot of characters too)
coded by natasha.
 





Verity


Meer

]













"WHY AM I
AWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?”

“WHAT IS THIS?! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! ARE YOU SH*TTING ME!? A CAT? WHAT ELSE DID THEY MAKE? THE WHOLE CAST OF HOMEWARD BOUND!?”


“Hey! You need to calm down, dude! Mr. Cappello was nice enough to get you up."

“If only I could be so fortunate- but let’s not deal in haste. Are you hurt?”

“W-.... WHAT?! F*CK OFF, Mary Poppins!”

“Reese is right. We’re all in the same boat, and by the looks of it, we’ll be staying here for a while.” For better or worse.

“Sheesh, what drugs did they give you?"

























































Verity had thought she’d had herself under control, but panic bloomed in her gut, the adrenaline returning with a vengeance that bordered on pain. It dipped for a moment and then returned again in waves that became increasingly adamant. Verity was not a stranger to fear, but this seemed misplaced. That was the best way to describe it. Fighting wasn’t new and logically she didn’t have anything to fear. So why was her body reacting so strongly?

"The look on YOUR FACE. Haha. It's so sweet, I'M GETTING DIABETES. AH! The beauty, the affectionate downcast gaze, THE BLUSH. You look like a high-school boy in one of those cheesy rom-coms! Good thing they cut your hair so we'd see it all, huh, KETY? OH, the JOY. I bet Hera would LOVE seeing you FINALLY make a face other than "murder" and "poker". I AM SPEECHLESS."

She slammed her fist on the table,

“This needs to stop!”

Shitshitshitshit. Verity hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Hell, she hadn’t meant to do anything. What’s wrong with me?

“Shit.” Verity stood up from her seat. She needed space. Whatever was going on, she could sort it out later when she was in a better frame of mind to deal with it. She pressed her hands close to her body to stop them from shaking and then walked out of the room, keeping to a deliberate pace until she’d rounded the exit. Then she sped up to a jog, taking advantage of the temporary privacy to redirect the panicked energy without worrying about attracting unwanted attention.

Well, you’ve already done that. Brilliant performance, Ver.

Shut up.

What else to do?


Dolly had listed out some of the areas. There was a kitchen and a pool. Basically anywhere other than the Banquet Hall was looking appealing at the moment. Sure, she’d have to face the others again eventually. And maybe apologize if she wanted to maintain a somewhat normal reputation, but for now she just needed to figure things out on her own a bit. Once, Verity had prided herself on being cool-headed in any situation, but lately she didn’t recognise herself and it wasn’t for lack of physical similarity. She’d changed shape plenty of times, but every time she’d always been her. Again she’s struck by a bone-deep feeling of wrongness that she can’t name. The experiments had taken away most of her memories, but she’d thought she understood herself well enough anyways. Had they started to muddle her mind after all? Or had she been fooling herself from the start by imagining she had any semblance of control?

Verity was walking by the entrance when she heard the sudden sound of a slap like someone had been struck. Slowing down, she heard the sound of voices coming from behind one of the doors in the hall. She vaguely recognized Mercury’s playful tone and Sonny’s weird accent. She was making an effort to learn everyone as quickly as possible, but she’d made sure to pay special attention to those marked out as important to the Seekers. Which wasn’t actually too hard, considering that they also happened to be some of the chattiest people in the group.

The doors must have been automatic, because they opened up without her doing anything and Verity found herself unintentionally in the audience to Mercury pressing Sonny against the wall. The latter had his head tipped up towards Mercury.

“..take me to dinner first.”

She felt her face turn brick red and immediately she doubled her pace, determined to get out of there before one of the two noticed she’d been in the area like it was possible to outrun the sound of the doors sliding open. Whatever was going on was absolutely none of her business. There was a door a few feet away on the right side of the hallway, after the training room. Verity went for it, relieved when it opened upon her approach. It seemed like all of the doors were automatic so far. That would be worth remembering. And maybe a lesson for people not—nope, not going there. We’re going to think about literally anything else. Except maybe for the embarrassing outburst we just had earlier. Quick, what's the weather like?...Well, I haven't actually seen the sky in a long time. That’s…more sad than helpful. Maybe let's think about something else…..

The room turns out to be some sort of general living area. It’s larger than the Banquet Hall, but sparsely decorated. There’s some seating available, but not enough to sit the entire group at once. There’s also a coffee table without any coasters, but that’s it. The room strikes her as being very empty. Either like it’s waiting to be filled or someone had bigger plans for it, but had to reconsider mid-way through. Whatever the case, she doesn’t stay there for long. Open spaces don’t quite sit well with her as much nowadays. Funny, because she’s never like small ones either.

Without a map, Verity has to guess at which door to pick. She curves her path to the left, towards the nearest door and finds herself back in the hallway, only there’s now multiple other doors along the entire left wall. She hazards a guess that these must be their personal rooms, but none of them open for her until she reaches the third to last door.

The room itself is quite small and very bare. It doesn’t feel like it’s made of metal exactly, but everything except for the bed mattress is a familiar reflective-gray material that looks non-porous and easy to clean. Her previous room and as well as the lab where they’d done most of the testing had been made from the same thing. There’s a cavity in the wall opposite to the door for a single bed, with a window-like impression that turns out to be some sort of electronic screen with multiple settings, accessible by pressing the barely-visible buttons beneath it. There’s also a small protrusion on the wall next to her bed and a block that rises from the ground, which combined form the impression of a small desk area. There’s nothing in the room save for the thin pillow that can be picked up.

Actually, that’s not entirely true. Verity has picked up her pillow with the intention of propping it against the wall to rest against when she feels something hard inside of it. Pulling open the stitches of the pillow with some measure of care, she finds a plastic bag of red and blue pills stuffed with filling to keep them from making any sort of rattling, along with a piece of paper. She doesn’t recognize the type of pills inside, but the chicken-scratch writing was familiar enough that Verity doesn’t need a signature to recognize the sender.



You might find these helpful.


Bullshit.

Still there’s something of a smile on her face. At least she’s got her answer for if she’s meant to fail this. She might despise Malcolm with every fiber of her being, but he’d made one thing clear. They both needed each other to survive this place.

Verity put the pills away, careful to stuff them with filling so they wouldn’t rattle. She’d find some way to hide them on her person later and even more importantly, figure out what they actually did when she had time to investigate. In the meantime, there wasn’t a clock available and she was beginning to feel the need to be seen somewhere to avoid suspicion. And maybe also because the clinical nature of this room wasn’t making her feel any better.

Leaving her room, Verity walked the rest of the hallway. Opening the door, she discovers she liked this room the best so far. After all, it had been ages since she’d seen a pool.





Dining Room | Agitated | interactions



♡design by riptide, coded by uxie♡
 
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mood



Dream is excited and Midnight just wants peace and quiet



location



Dollhouse Banquet Hall



outfit



Wearing a white suit like everyone else (Midnight hates it)



mentions



Jack


tags



















the sandman





Dream
Midnight

A black abyss surrounded him on all sides, a faint golden glow outlining his body as he floated in the darkness. Dream's eyes were closed as he hummed a small melody to himself but thick eyelashes fluttered open at the sound of a familiar voice.

"What fresh hell do you think those bastards are going to put us through now? They generally don't go through the trouble of sedating us if it was just another routine test."

Floating in front of Dream was another man, appearance identical to his own if not for the white hair and red eyes paired with what seemed to be a permanent scowl etched on his face. Dream shrugged in answer to Midnight's question. "I couldn't say. I haven't heard anyone on the project team mention anything; I'm sure we'll find out once the sedative wears off, which is seems to be doing rather quickly." Dream commented as the void around them began to lighten as the drugs affects began to wear off.

"Be ready for anything." Midnight warned as his form began to blur in front of Dream's eyes.


✧✧✧​

In the waking world, Dream's eyes fluttered open and he straightened up from where he had been slouched in his chair, rubbing at his eyes. It only took him a couple of minutes to shake off the lingering effects of the sedatives, Midnight a watchful presence in the back of his mind. Once he felt fully awake, his gaze scanned the environment around him and his expression brightened as he realized they weren't alone in the room.

'Midnight look, there's people!' Dream exclaimed to his counterpart with glee.

'I'm shaking with excitement.' Midnight's dry response came, Dream able to feel the distain emanating from Midnight's corner of their mind.

'Do you want to say hi to them?' He asked Midnight as he spotted their goggles resting on the table in front of them. 'Absolutely not.' Came Midnight's immediate response as Dream plucked up the goggles and fitted them over his head, resting them on his forehead where they normally sat.

Dream shrugged in reply and went to stand up, he wasn't going to make any friends by sitting there! However, before he could rise fully, a loud yell had him yelping and losing his balance, the cyan-haired man falling back into his chair with a thump. Wide cyan eyes darted to the source of the noise, spotting a man with bright red hair that seemed to be having a bad time. As he continued to yell and show aggression to those around him, Dreams blue orbs took on a reddish tint as Midnight inched closer to the front, his fingers resting lightly on his goggles in case he needed to yank them down; Midnight was better in a fight than Dream was, so they were ready to make a switch if this man came at them.

Thankfully however, another experiment seemed almost prepared for this type of reaction, a small pink-haired woman standing from her chair and approaching the grumpy man. Her humming had a small smile spreading across Dream's face, the red fading from his eyes as Midnight calmed down slightly. He nearly relaxed back into his chair at the soothing effects of her voice, but someone laughing loudly broke the spell.

Brows furrowing in confusion, Dream scanned the table and the room around him, but was unable to pinpoint the source. Finally standing from his chair, he headed to the end of the table and peered underneath it, spotting a dark-haired man sprawled out on the floor. As Dream's eyes landed on the man, a fluttering warm feeling spread through his body, his chest tightening as a small blush tinted his cheeks. Lost in these sudden sensations, he barely heard Midnight's disgusted exclamation of 'Eww what are these sappy feelings.'

Shaking his head minutely, Dream planted one hand on the table, the other extending outwards as he bent down slightly. "Are you okay? Do you need a hand up?"









nine lives

 
~Interactions and mentions~
SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles Abyss Abyss
Headphones Headphones






It was all coming together, it seemed everyone was… officially awake, if not, then someone needed to check for a pulse. Cetus had tried to incite a schism but it was defused perfectly and swiftly.

Reese had frozen in place the moment Marina began approaching the scene. He witnessed Cetus go from a foul-mouthed tornado to just… A concoction of several emotions. If one could picture a candle with waxes made of several layers of expressions, each one melted away to reveal a new one.

Anger was always at the frontline, but behind his narrowed pupils there was a stillness.

His blazing irises flickered and then glassed over, his heaving chest slowed and his breaths became more weak and labored. Reese swallowed a lump he’d been holding and his own breath began to slow. The melody that washed over them both took the heat from Cetus’ very aura, but for Reese it was almost nostalgic. He exhaled-

It was like taking that first drag… The best drag.




Cetus finally turned back to Marina with a clenched jaw, but his inhibitors were cooling down already and the choleric destruction he’d been conjuring up was doused out by a wave of… Just simple relief. The talon-like pain at the base of his neck was gone, likely due to lowering blood pressure, and the nausea was easing up as well. His eyes became misty, mainly from the first taste of peace he’d had in however many years…

F*ck.” Was all he whined out, though unlike literally every other word he said, it was so soft and reluctant to be anything louder. Marina didn’t even seem human to him, her voice was feathering down around him like snowflakes and his world stopped spinning. Time slowed down for him, the faces of those around him became clearer with each second and an old yet familiar clarity arrested him long enough to see how… Everyone was actually a person who was judging him or afraid of him. For a split second, he compressed his lips and stared at Marina.




He stood down. Not physically, but with his entire being.

Deon had been swaying to the singing, eyes closed as she happily let it take her away.

Reese smiled at Marina and found the courage to leave the dining hall, officially. He didn’t look at Boryan as he walked passed him, but there was a small exhale from him as he stepped around him. Maybe it was a minute gesture of ‘I’m done here’, or maybe it was the relief he felt from the song. Either way, it was now between Cetus and Marina, that lingering stare…

once the glitter had settled and the glow of Marina’s luster began to fade back to some form of reality, Cetus scoffed and wiped his brow. By now his slicked back hair had fallen back down over his face, disheveled from his earlier outburst. It seemed as though the others were free to make conversation normally now. Cetus took one glance at Merrit as he began leaving with Reese.


Until, of course…


That laugh.








Marina’s efforts to snuff the flame had only just begun. When Cetus laid eyes on Jack, the look of a man pistol whipped contorted his face. His eyes became wide and hollowed, that blind rage wanting so badly to return.

The only thing keeping his rancor down was the essence of Marina’s song and pure… disbelief. Of course he shouldn’t be too shocked. He told himself. This is exactly the kind of horse piss she’d pull… Was Hera… SAVING this meeting for this very event?



"The look on YOUR FACE. Haha. It's so sweet, I'M GETTING DIABETES. AH! The beauty, the affectionate downcast gaze, THE BLUSH. You look like a high-school boy in one of those cheesy rom-coms! Good thing they cut your hair so we'd see it all, huh, KETY? OH, the JOY. I bet Hera would LOVE seeing you FINALLY make a face other than "murder" and "poker". I AM SPEECHLESS."


“There is no god.




Cetus’ words were so honest and factual compared to his earlier behavior… Watching that cackling demon across from him, flawless features barely disturbed by the wrinkles of his incredulous laughter. He howled at the Red head as he struggled to digest this cruel trial he’d been thrown into. Everyone else here may have had strangers to ponder and profile, but Cetus…

“Do you two… like…” Deon spoke up, eyes half-lidded once more. She tossed a finger back and forth between the two men.

“Know each other?” She was genuinely curious. She had known of the different divisions based on a few paths she walked when using her abilities, but she hadn’t known anyone to be allowed to interact with other experiments of that very same kind.

But Deon had guessed wrong. Cetus was too ill in the pit of his belly to answer her, feeling that pain begin to creep back behind his eyeballs as they glared with all the fury of a cornered animal.

Cetus and Jack had never met before. Or rather, Never even been allowed in the same room or on the same stage. But there wasn’t a day this past year that the Atlantis division didn’t remind Cetus that Jack was their new Star- he was superior in every way, exactly what the masses were craving and his abilities were… Godlike.

Cetus was only a plastic nightlight compared to Jack’s natural grace and charm. Every day, in some form, they had placed that seed in his head. And likewise, Atlantis had shown Jack what not to be with Cetus as his prime example. The Apple on a pedestal, rotting and nothing but a house for worms.

It was… Far more complicated than that. Despite never truly being allowed to appear before each other, the Atlantis division found ways to make them work together. By having Jack try to hammer some skills and discipline into Cetus- over calls, over video, letters and mind games. It was a never-ending cycle of indirect communication and limited experiences with each other orchestrated by Atlantis.



Their 'friendship'- their co-workership, all ships… Were being steered not by Jack or Cetus, but by Atlantis. They only saw each other through the lenses they were given, never with their own eyes or ears. To Cetus- Dionysus was here to make his life… Hades.



Now, the two stood before each other. Just as he’d felt the first happy sensation he’d had in years upon seeing Marina, it was stolen away by Jack’s shredding laughter.


That’s when a slam on the table caused Cetus to snap in Verity’s direction. Deon also flinched, feeling an actual threat this time to contrast Cetus’ rage from earlier.




“This needs to stop!”


Deon watched with silent sympathy for poor Verity. She hadn’t gone without notice- she was the only one besides Gael and Cassiel that were still and quiet. Everyone else had some form of movement, but Verity had enough and showed how the ruckus was getting to her.

“Shit.” After that, Deon seemed to realize she also needed to ground herself. She’d been allotted a little energy upon her excursion around the Doll house, but now she had a major decision to make and no one in this group could advise or consult with her on it.

The time had finally come- her environment had changed and whoever put her in here… Seemed to expect her to use her ability. Why else would she be here? She wasn’t a combatant, she was useless even by the standards of her modifications. If those watching them wanted something dramatic to happen, they picked the wrong girl for this. But she wasn’t going to squander this opportunity.


Cetus ran his tongue across his teeth and growled again, ruffling his own hair. That one lady had the right idea. This DID need to stop. Cetus took one look at Jack, then at Dream... "Freaks." he spat, then passed up Marina on his way out. He glared down at her, way down, considering her height. He eyed her for a moment too long and wrinkled his nose. "Don't test me, sister." Cetus said under his breath. "Try that again and we'll see who's falling out of their chair next."







-Hallway-


Reese could still hear voices bouncing off the walls back in the Banquet hall, but he had minus zero desire to backtrack- not after the FIRST time he did. He wanted to study this house top to bottom, avoid putting any of his two cents into arguments again and hopefully, stay as far away from everyone as possible.

Not that he wanted to be in isolation again- he just didn’t want to be judged. Isolation was a lot easier when you only had yourself to blame and no one else to point a finger at you. Maybe he was flattering himself too much. That's what his Dad would likely tell him...





Though, as he got further away from the crowd, he began to remember a few things. Mercury, one of their ‘superiors’- He’d taken one of the boys off somewhere.

"Don't worry, I'll call you Dad. But uh,”


What a cheeky little prick.


"I'm still in my rebellious phase."


How did the Hippy girl and that arsehole even know I had a kid? Can they both read minds? I think perhaps I’m more of an open book than I’d like to recall. I need to re-think my approach to dealing with those people.



Reese’s shoes gently squeaked on the floor as he saw Verity’s form flash by. She didn’t even notice him, thankfully. She went right into her room, down the hallway from him. He glanced upward to where his name was and decided to peak around in his new living quarters.

It was as basic as they came… A downgrade from his old room but it was welcomed for simply being… A whole different place. He did see there was some paper available to write on, for a mercy. He glanced around and once more, adjusted his glasses up to his eyes and sidled up to the desk. He leaned over the paper and used a provided utensil to write.

Margaret

Margaret

Margaret… Margie. Margie. You have a daughter named Margaret.



He paused and decided that would work for now. He didn’t want to waste the paper in case he had limited amounts. Sighing and rubbing his hands together, he glanced back to the door and figured he’d wait for a while to let things calm down. He took a seat on his bed and removed his glasses, placing them on the pillow beside himself. His sigh became a heave of relief to be elsewhere, but also to process what all just happened…





...His eyes suddenly popped open, the bags beneath them more prominent now. “A kitchen.” He whispered. “A gas stove?” He rubbed his jaw between finger and thumb.

“No, surely they wouldn’t. That’d be careless.” He pondered. But perhaps something in this home caused the dirtying of air particles. He didn’t see any purifying units around the home, yet.

But the inhibitors…


Ah, but they were loosened. People were already using variants of their abilities. Reese then scrubbed down his face. He knew better.

His modification wasn’t cute or helpful in a setting like this. He couldn’t sing and calm an aggressor- he didn’t have wings or something blatant. He had to be extremely careful about how he used his powers- if his inhibitors allowed for it.




“Reese is right. We’re all in the same boat, and by the looks of it, we’ll be staying here for a while.”




Fafnir… No, Merrit. He’d said his name. He hadn’t heard someone call him Reese in years. The pale man felt a sinking feeling. All the things that boy had said about his Project, the divisions, the color-coded uniforms and so on… That was way more information than Reese had been let in on. Perhaps the boy was here longer than him. WAit…


"Fafnir is the fire-based project, so that's why I'm red."



Fire-based… Does that mean he can create fire without the need of an incendiary? Reese laced his fingers through his dark hair as the gears turned.


As he exited his room, he actively went looking for Merrit.

I’ll apologize for not telling him about my division. He told himself, reciting the words in his mind.


I’ll try to make friends with him and see if he can do what I think he can. And if his inhibitors allow for it.


His glacial eyes scanned around, but he didn’t just search for Merrit, he wanted to know the Doll house as well as he could. He kept his hands in the pockets of the thin scrubs he wore, peering around the doorway to the Kitchen.

It was empty, for the time being. It wasn’t as cozy as he pictured- but then again they weren’t at his Aunt’s house in Swansea. He was glad to know he could even recall her home… But to stay on task, he examined the kitchen and just before his eyes met the stove, he heard… noises. They made his lip curl as his eyes were drawn to the refrigerator. It was at least large enough to hold ingredients for them all. But upon further inspection, it didn’t look like a typical Fridge. It was some kind of ‘All-in-one’ Unit perhaps. Regardless, he could see a tall person rummaging through it like a wild raccoon in a trashcan. He quickly figured out who it was.


Cetus wasn’t subtle. His messy short hair was glittering as he searched the pantry-fridge machine. He was on the hunt for something, anything to shove into his maw until he noticed Reese standing there.

“Well if it isn’t B*tchlock holmes.” He glanced out of the corner of his eye briefly before going back on the hunt for food. Reese could only grace that nickname with a confused and slightly disturbed look on his face as Cetus managed to find a block of butter- or something… And cram it into his mouth.

“Cetus… I see you found food.” Reese mumbled cautiously yet with a friendly lilt.

“Touch it and die.” Cetus replied with a full mouth of butter.

“Mhm.” Reese responded in an agreeing tone. “I believe ‘Dolly’ said that Cat bloke is in charge of the kitchen. He may know what’s actually edib-...”

Before Reese could finish his sentence, Cetus found something that was wrapped in a type of plastic and began trying to force his way in. The sound muffled out any words Reese was trying to convey.

Reese rolled his eyes and took in a deep… Long breath before trying again. “I was just having a look around. I’ll leave you to,” he gave Cetus a noncommittal gesture around the room. “...Whatever this is.” Cetus had devoured the butter- or whatever that block of pale yellow foodstuff was. When he was done, he threw a wrapper of some kind in a wad at Reese, missing him but not intending to.

Reese turned on his heel with a raised brow, but he snuck one last glance at Cetus on his way out. The kid had removed his thin outer shirt and was only in his darker undershirt now- some kind of tank top. His body looked like it was once pretty muscular, in a healthy way. But somehow he didn’t seem right. His cheeks were a bit too gaunt for his body type, like he’d been missing meals for a few months. Now, it seemed he was on the rampage for something to fill his gut. Reese had older sisters who’d done similar things- mainly his second oldest sister who had done modeling since she was a teenager.

Well… I’m not cleaning up after him, and I'm not staying here. Reese thought, leaving the red head to his own devices.

Once the welsh guy was gone, Cetus eased up on the childish search for treats and slammed his back into the wall, sinking down to the floor until he was seated beside a few cabinets.



'Of all the people to be stuck with… Hera couldn’t just change everything about me. She had to throw me in here, with HIM. Cetus chuckled bitterly, tugging on his scarlet locks. "I’m gonna wring his pretty neck, though… Over and over. Because I can. He's right in front of me now… I can get one good kick to the balls in before the Seekers snuff me out for good.'





He started to think about that girl, though.

With the pink hair and the voice. He brought his knees to his chest and sat in the mess he’d made out of food wrappers and dried ingredients. 'I wonder if they did to her what they did to me. Is that her real voice?' Just thinking of someone laying their cold, gloved hands on her for harm or altercation made his hairs stand on end. Perhaps earlier he'd spared Jack a rare soft gaze at the mermaid girl, but his throat was already closing up with a cruel hatred for anyone who'd hurt her. He wasn't really certain WHY this thought bothered him. Everyone in that room likely suffered in some way at the hands of the Seekers. But Cetus knew what Atlantis did to him and Jack- no telling what Marina had done to her. If he couldn't beat up Dionysus, he would certainly try to mess up the poor soul who harmed Marina.... Yeesh. He hated the way he was thinking right now. Was this the hunger talking?


He rocked himself a bit, then stomped back to his feet to begin his new mission of finding something else to eat- but he hadn’t touched a kitchen in years. All his food was strictly made for him by Atlantis. He was pretty sure the reason he ended up in the Dollhouse was due to his bad behavior and hunger strikes. But then.. Why was their actual Star Child here with him? If this was a prison, why was the Good Boy here with Cetus? Either way, all he knew was, after seeing Marina, he felt hungry for the first time in a long time.



-The Living Area-

Deon had left the others to do as they please, waving everyone goodbye for now. Rorie, Cassiel, Gael, and Quinn. Others too, assuming they’d been there to see her off for the evening. Or whatever time it was.

She could hear some… odd sounds coming from one of the men’s rooms. She didn’t want to intrude… Or did she? Nah, she’d save the mischief for later if she survived what she was about to do.

Glancing down at her wrist cuffs, she could tell something was… different. There was only one sure fire way to test if the Seekers were holding her back. She found the room with her name on it and went inside, making sure she took in the sights before entering her quarters. She felt the nerves begin to kick in- a gambler might feel the same way, getting jittery before risking debt and family.




She shook her hands out of the nerves, “OKAY.” She told herself. “It’ll be okay. It’s all fake until it’s not.” she repeated like a mantra.


She unzipped her outer shirt off and wrapped one of the sleeves around her own wrist, then tied the other sleeve in a knot around the bedside table leg. Deon then laid herself down, feeling the drowsy sensation coming back to her from earlier. Going to sleep was easy.



The hard part was walking within 100 dreams and trying to remember every Trigger sign of events. She wondered exactly how far she’d get… It’d been so long, a few months since she last used her ability. Now was her opportunity while things were quiet.

The cuffs would sedate her if she wasn’t being allowed to… To use…



To go….


Falling down and into the place… Drifting on a boat. The rope has to loosen, so she can leave the docks. The mist curled around her and stroked the waters below. The rope was severed. The boat was taking her out on the lake.


When she opened her eyes again, she was on her bed.



Path one.




“Don’t you talk to me about ‘restraint’!” A voice cried out. Whoever it was, tears were being shed.

Deon jolted up and felt her outer shirt tug on her arm. Crap. This wasn’t how her path walking was meant to go… It was too blurry, too dreamlike. She listened to the voice…. At least she could tell it was one of the boys. It sounded like Cetus. Deon gave a sluggish tug on her scrub sleeve, making sure she was actually in the dream. Then, she unleashed herself and began walking towards the door of her room. Her steps felt fuzzy and painful, like her legs had been asleep and went numb.


“I’m not the one who broke it.” Another voice said.


“Who cares!? We have bigger issues,” the tearful voice, assumed to be Cetus, replied. Deon was struggling… To even walk, let alone open her eyes all the way. She needed one single thing. A single, blatant trigger sign.


She tried to look at the others in the living room as she stumbled in. Her world was covered in a haze, filtered out like a poor connection on a TV.

“I’m not dealing with it.” A voice said. And in that exact moment, she glanced over to see Mercury clapping his hands like he was giving an applause. He didn’t seem pleased, but… He was clapping, and standing near the coffee table. Two people to his right… There, there it was. If this didn’t happen, it wasn’t Path One.




Sinking…






Sinking…





Path two.


Deon gasped awake, as if her nose had been pinched shut while asleep, depriving her of oxygen. Her mind was reeling just from the first path… She’d cycled through Path One and it lasted roughly four days.



She groaned in pain as she slipped out of bed… This was only Path Two… God, how shitty were the rest going to make her feel? Would she even make it that far? She panted heavily and wobbled her way to the hall, where she managed to pass by Reese’s room. He was sitting at his desk and his shoulders were heaving and trembling. He didn’t seem to notice her.


Alright. The stuck up guy cries at his desk. Surely, if he doesn’t do this often, this’ll be my trigger sign.


No way… it’s getting shorter… and I can only see what the people i’ve directly touched are doing.



Drifting….





Drifting….




Path Three.


Four. Five. Six.


Ten. Seventeen. Forty. Eighty.



One hundred.








Deon had been sleeping for a few hours now in the present time.

She awoke gasping for air and tears were staining trails down her cheeks as she tried to ground herself back in reality once more… Her arm jerked forward out of reflex- letting her know it was over. Her eyes were now open to a clear bedroom, no filter and no muffled voices. Her inhibitors were in fact… different this time. They didn’t sedate her or restrain her limbs. She’d been allowed to explore her 100 paths, and yet… They were so jumbled and hard to follow she just knew there was no way…




She’d not be able to keep up with every path. But her tears were brought back from very real possible realities… Even if she was only allowed short moments with everyone, she felt like she’d known them far longer than before… And it was still only Day one.

She had seen something, but by the sky above she was not going to say what it was. Any mention of what she saw in the future would alter its course, that’d always been the case. She cannot tell anyone what she’d seen… She covered her mouth and laid there, exhausted and torn. She wanted so badly to tell them… To tell anyone or share this secret, but she can’t. One wrong move, and the Trigger Sign will be gone… And with it, a possible future where things are better. Besides, just like many times before this- the Seekers weren't letting any of them leave. All 100 paths showed her another futile dream.
 
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scroll








The Syphon



Rorie.













mood

Hungry & Dazed











Outfit

White Jumpsuit











location

Banquet Hall











interactions











tags

tags here
















So much was going on around the raven-haired woman. Her viridescent gaze flickered from one person to another. There was so much commotion going on, so many interactions. It overwhelmed her profusely. Flower guy, loud-mouthed fairy guy, just too many people. It was slowly starting to feel as if the room would swallow her up.

She was already pressed back against the smooth chair beneath her. Her eyes flew down to her clenched hands that were curled up into fists, her nails creating halfmoon indentions within her palms. It was painful but not as much as the bottomless feeling in her stomach.

Hunger was starting to make her extremely tense. Easily agitated, irritated.

Shoving her chair back noisily, Rorie took a shuttering inhale. She attempted to get a better understanding of the area she was in. Frantic eyes assessed the exits and any notable ways out. She memorized the layout of the bare room around her and was about to take her leave quickly. That was until she heard something.

A soft melody filled her ears. Instinctively, the tension slowly began melting away from her frame. Her muscles relaxed and her expression grew less feral. A look of weariness replaced the prior fearful one. The entirety of this situation confused Rorie. She turned around to find the source of the singing, scanning each person who was still in the room until her eyes fell onto Marina.

Her eyes narrowed as she took a step closer to the pink-haired woman. The closer she got, the more mellow the glint of predaciousness within her gaze got. Though the hunger was still there-which Rorie was well aware of-the edge was taken off. The distraction was nice, she had to admit. But how did Marina do that?

Rorie studied Marina closer. She could feel the energy and life force radiating from the young woman almost immediately. This caused a twinge of hunger.

“How are you doing this?” She asked Marina, her brows furrowed. “The hunger…it’s still there but it’s not gut-wrenching.”

Upon her white shirt was a badge. It read "The Syphon" across it. Shoulder-length gloves adorned each arm with a tight electronic band at the very top.


♡coded by uxie♡
 
location
At the end of the table towards the door.
mood
elated, amorous, michevous
outfit
white tracksuit
mentions
Savanah.
Jack Beaumont
"The look on YOUR FACE. Haha. It's so sweet, I'M GETTING DIABETES. AH! The beauty, the affectionate downcast gaze, THE BLUSH. You look like a high-school boy in one of those cheesy rom-coms! Good thing they cut your hair so we'd see it all, huh, KETY? OH, the JOY. I bet Hera would LOVE seeing you FINALLY make a face other than "murder" and "poker". I AM SPEECHLESS."

"This needs to stop!" a firm female voice demanded.

As if it were a commandment from the Queen of Gods herself, Jack's laughter ceased in an instant. Tilting his head slightly whilst laying on his back, he could tell that the order came from the third pair of legs on the opposite side of the table. And they were long, strong legs, at that, with wide feet that looked like they were ready to stomp someone.

An authoritative woman, no doubt. To Jack, it was always a pleasure to partner with such a goddess. As their "obedient servant" or their "hot enemy", he would watch as they declared what they wanted and eventually revealed their delicate petals. Brave, outspoken, succinct, yet cradling that little star of kindness deep within their hearts.

"Shit." the woman cursed.

They were alluring complicated characters, indeed.

Jack let out a loud exhale as he followed her movements from her seat to an upright position and out the door. It was understandable that not everyone could be as unbothered as himself. If she needed some time alone to reassemble herself, he would give her a wave goodbye and let her enjoy that moment. In line with his impression, she chose the reasonable solution to her frustration, which was to take a step back, unlike a certain someone, who was growling again.

To the young man's surprise, that said someone did not charge at him like a raging red bull. Instead, akin to a distinguished gentleman, he gave a tame warning to the pink-haired maiden to mind her manners and proceeded to leave the premises. As Cetus walked past him, he spared Jack not a single glance, yet the latter keenly traced his figure.

'Too skinny. You'd worry your fans with that complexion. Oh, right. He doesn't have any. Maybe he could have had one just now, though.' Jack thought, turning his head towards Marina and the rest of her posse.
"Don't worry." he offered them a genuine smile. "He's like a pomeranian. Lots of fluff and bark." he shifted his head back towards the underside of the table and closed his eyes. "But no bite."

Despite the little fracas that had occurred, the questionable identities of the individuals around him and the close proximity of one that most definitely had ill intent towards him, Jack felt peaceful. Remaining completely at ease with one hand on his stomach, the smile did not leave his face. How others percieved him mattered not. The sound of their footsteps, the delicate rustle as they brushed against objects, their very essence. Being in the company of other people, especially ones from "his make-up room", brought him delight unlike any other.

For long had he been surrounded by the scientists of the Atlantis Division. No matter how friendly or provocative he had been, they had always kept their distance, be it voluntarily or with regret. He didn't resent them for this, of course. It was natural for a superior to build a fence between them and their employee. Such were the fundamentals of proper business etiquette in their field. However, now that there were other test subjects around him, dare he say, colleagues, he expected to have much more colourful interactions and relationships. Maybe he could finally have a duet? Or a player to play poker with? Perhaps he could even find someone to make fun of Cetus together? Musing about such pleasant things, the young man was so untroubled that he had forgotten about his plan about a grand introduction. The thought of getting up did occur to him, yet was but a little mayfly, which he had shooed away with the excuse that someone would come to check on him at some point.

"Are you ok? Do you need a hand up?"

'Sure enough.' Jack smirked in his mind as he opened his eyes and turned them towards the person that had given the generous offer. 'Lets see what we have he-'

Click-BOOM.
Then it happened.

The roses bloomed within the garden. The tender spring breeze swept their red petals up into a waltz around the two, who were, at present, only strangers. No, not just the petals! It swept up one of the protagonists! It carried him high into the azure blue sky, surrounded by white clouds, fluffy like the wool of little lambs. Suddenly, a little red heart shape hit his head. And then another and another, until a heart avalanche fell upon him! Bombarded, he fell like an angel from heaven and splashed into the cyan sea, glistening beautifully under the summer sun. Just when one would think his troubles would end, a final wave rose and crashed. Into his heart.

Jack gazed with his own blue eyes at the one that had swept him away. A youth around his age it was, with round cyan eyes and hair of the same colour which reached his small curving shoulders. His complexion was so perfect, his expression - so sincere, that he looked like he was a bard who had left Elysium just so he could offer his aid. And he did so by extending a graceful hand towards him, who had fallen.

Steadily, Jack pushed himself up to a sitting position whilst twisting his body to face the young man. With his left hand firmly on the floor for stability and his legs curled to the side, he reached out with his right hand, never once breaking eye contact with the other. Yet instead of grabbing on as expected, he placed his own hand under his and gently curled his fingers around the other's.
Morpheus, his nametag read. Indeed, he was akin to a dream.
His skin was so soft and tender, as if it were made of sacred silk.
The moment they touched, a warm sensation poured down Jack's throat. Rushing down, burning within his chest. It settled below his ribcage and continued to burn. His eyelids narrowed. Thoughts had long exited the stage. He dipped slightly and brought their hands upwards. Between long lashes, his fervent gaze remained on Morpheus as he planted a lingering kiss on his fingers.

In an instant, the face of his benefactor was tinted with red.
'Oh, look, you're starting to blush~'
To Jack's delight, he didn't seem to dislike this. On the contrary, Morpheus made no effort to escape and heat seeped into his hand, warming Jack's own fingers. This made the warmth within him shoot a spark up to the base of his nose, warming the air within.
'So cute. What kind of other expressions can you make~?'
Lips parted from their resting place and hooked into a smile with which he spoke:

"A gesture of gratitude." his right hand slid around the other, so that Jack's fingers stroked Morpheus's palm and brushed upwards to finally grab his wrist, his fingers loosely spreading out, with his index and middle finger slipping under his sleeve. "For your help. My name is Jack. Jack Beaumont. But just Jack is fine."


coded by natasha.
 
Click Tabs

  • MOOD:
    Curious and a little flustered

    LOCATION:
    Dollhouse: Banquet Hall -> Pool

    OUTFIT:
    White Suit

    MENTIONS:
    Verity

    TAGS:


    Freyja scrubbed a hand over her face in an attempt to clear the rest of the fog that was still filling her head. A pat on her back had her dropping her hand, attention turning to the man who had been seated next to her, the one she had been unintentionally staring at. He seemed to be leaving, her gaze following after her to see that most of the occupants seated at the table had risen as well. It seemed like they had the right idea, she wasn't going to get any answers just by sitting there.

    Planting her hands on the table, she rose as well, resting there a minute as her knees wobbled beneath her. Seems like she had yet to fully shake off the affects of whatever sedatives they had used on her. Freyja watched those still within the room interact with each other, though she refrained from taking part in the conversations just yet. Instead her magenta eyes scanned each and every person, analyzing them and what they were saying. Aside from the cat-man and the one with red skin and horns, everyone else seemed to look relatively normal give or take some odd hair colors. Her earlier question on if the cat-man was a ghost was quickly proven false, unless those interacting with him could also see apparitions but that seemed unlikely.

    "What are you thinking about?" Ciel quired as he sprawled out above the table top, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them. "Just wondering what the end goal is, why we were all brought together like this; though knowing the Seekers, we won't know the answer to that question anytime soon." She murmured to him, gaze drawing away from the others. She utilized the quiet moment she had while everyone was distracted with interactions to gather herself. She pulled all of her long hair back into a high pony-tail and secured it with a hair tie she had wrapped around her wrist before pushing away from where she had been leaning on the table.

    The doors had been opened and she was ready to explore her apparent new home; interactions and introductions could wait until later, it wasn't like they were going anywhere anytime soon. Circling around the table and its still-sleeping occupants, Freyja headed towards the exit, Ciel trailing behind her.

    As she weaved through those standing between her and the exit, anyone that she passed would feel a cold breeze in her wake, an unexplainable chill that disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. Anyone she accidentally made eye-contact with received a small smile but she didn't stop to chat as she headed out of the room.

    She found herself in a hallway and a quick peek in the room directly in front of her revealed the kitchen. Though her stomach grumbled with hunger, she didn't feel like attempting to make anything to appease her appetite and besides that, if that announcement was true then Boryan might not appreciate her poking around in his assigned area. Turning left, Freyja continued down the hallway, peeking into what appeared to be a living room and a room filled with different activates At the end of the long hallway there was a turn into what seemed to be the bedroom area of the section.

    None of the doors she approached opened at her arrival and as such she continued down the line until she came upon a door that did open for her. Peeking inside, she was pleasantly surprised by the appearance of what was surely her bedroom. A small smile spread across her face as she stepped inside, admiring the decorations that adorned the walls. Though it was tempting to flop onto her bed that had way too many pillows than she really needed, she didn't feel particularly tied and besides that, there was still more to explore.

    Exiting her room, she continued down the hallway, the scent of chlorine entering her nose as she stepped into what appeared to be the pool room. She approached the water, peering down into the cool blue depths. "Do I know how to swim?" She mumbled, half to herself and half to Ciel who hovered next to her. "I'm not sure but maybe don't jump in just in case, I can't exactly fish you out." He commented, Freyja nodding at what he said. It would perhaps be best to find that out later when there were more people around, just in case she couldn't in fact swim.

    Turning to examine the rest of the room, she startled slightly when she realized she wasn't alone. "Apologizes for intruding, I can leave if you would like to be alone." Freyja said softly, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. This woman's presence made her feel...odd, as if there were butterflies in her stomach that grew excited the more Freyja stared at her; could it be an ability of some kind that affected emotions?
 









scroll








The Syphon



Rorie.













mood

Curious











Outfit

White Jumpsuit











location

Banquet Hall











interactions











tags

tags here
















Rorie stares at Marina, her eyes narrowing. Energy was radiating off of her and it was causing the dark-haired woman to strain her control. She raises a gloved had instinctively to her mouth and nose.

"So that's your ability. Noted. Calming voice." She mumbles to herself.

Though her frame is obviously relaxed, there is still some weariness in her expression. She allows her gaze to flicker around the odd room. "To be honest, I have no clue. Maybe some type of trial or experiment. They never really give us the clear picture, it seems." She replies. Keeping her hand in front of her lower face, Rorie looks back to her.

"I don't eat normal food. I need a plant. Any kind of plant. It has to be alive." The woman swallows quietly. "I'm not exactly sure they have any in here though. Gods, this is going to be a shitshow."

"I'm Rorie. Ignore the tag."

A self-conscious hand raises to her name tag. It was obvious by her title that her powers have something to do with taking away energy. This fact makes her incredibly nervous, as she's never been around other experiments. Since her last incident, the Seekers have done everything they could to isolate her completely so she wouldn't cause anyone harm.


♡coded by uxie♡
 









scroll








The Wailing Wind



Gael.













mood

Surprised











Outfit

White Jumpsuit











location

Banquet Hall











interactions











tags

tags here

















Gael cleared his throat as he looked around the room. He took his notepad and stuffed it into his jumpsuit pocket. He gave Merrit a wave as he left.

The silver-haired man let his hand fall to the embedded collar connected to his neck, allowing his fingers to trail along the curved, metal edges. It was cool to the touch.

Though there was so much chaos around him, Gael was calmed instantaneously by Marina's song. He gave her a grateful glance and was about to stand up when he felt someone suddenly grab his shoulder.

His muscles tensed, head snapping to see who the person was. He came face-to-face with a handsome brunette.

Gael's eyes widened slightly. He held Cas's gaze, locking eyes with the winged man. His mouth opened before he quickly shut it, remembering what would happen if he spoke.

Instead, he opted for his best option. He reached out and grabbed the brunnete's free hand.

"It's quite alright. You didn't harm me, I promise. Are you okay?" A voice suddenly speaks in Cas's head. It's deep and soothing.

Gael stood from his chair, standing at a towering 6' 6". He has to tilt his head down to look at Cas.

He offers a warm smile. If Cas looked a bit closer to his shirt, he would notice the name tag stating his project name.

The Wailing Wind.


♡coded by uxie♡
 


















  • mood



    Smitten



    location



    Banquet Hall



    outfit



    White Suit



    mentions



    Gael



    tags
















    Cass








    Before Cassiel could give into the instinct to flee the room as fast as he could before he embarrassed himself further, he was frozen in place as the seated man reached out to grasp one of his hands. Tingles spread up his arm from the point of contact, his feathers rustling as a shiver raced through his wings. A warmth spread through his body, the blush in his cheeks increasing as his smaller fingers tentatively wrapped around the other mans hand in return.

    He jerked slightly at the unexpected voice that echoed through his mind, a voice that was definitely not his own. The other mans lips never moved, Cass hadn't taken his eyes off of him ever since their gazes locked; was this the mans ability? Before Cassiel could reply, the man stood from his seat, Cass's head tipping back in order to maintain contact.

    The other male towered over Cass, the top of the winged mans head barely reaching his shoulders. Normally Cass would feel intimidated by such a height difference but he felt no traces of fear or unease in this mans presence.

    Realizing he had been staring for probably longer than necessary, Cassiel's gaze lowered slightly, his thick eyelashes hiding his gaze. "I'm okay" After a few seconds his eyes drift back upwards as if they couldn't look away from Gael's face for too long. "My name is Cassiel." He returned Gael's smile with a shy one of his own.

    He realized they were still holding hands but for some reason he felt no desire to pull away; the touch felt comforting and safe, and safe wasn't a sensation Cassiel had felt in a long time; he wanted to bask in it for as long as he could.









    nine lives


 
Last edited:









scroll








The Syphon



Rorie.













mood

Curious











Outfit

White Jumpsuit











location

Banquet Hall











interactions

Marina




















Noticing the subtle sniff, Rorie interally shamed herself. She steeled her resolve and removed her hand from her face. She'd have to explain at some point, right? They'd find out her curse and they'd want to stay away from her for the foreseeable future. Her gaze darkened a bit.

"Yes, a plant." She replied with a tight-lipped smile.

"Lovely to meet you, Marina." Rorie nodded. She wouldn't admit she was incredibly nervous. Instead, she would continue attempting to be confident and in control of her hunger. Though she knew deep down, if she kept going like this, she'd black out.

She looked toward the doorway, hesitation in her features. It takes her a good few moments before finally agreeing with another nod.

"Alright. Let's go look." She strode to the doorway, opening it for Marina and allowing her to go first.



♡coded by uxie♡










scroll








The Wailing Wind



Gael.













mood

Infatuated











Outfit

White Jumpsuit











location

Banquet Hall











interactions

Marina




















What was this new feeling that Gael was feeling? Sparks and electricity shot from his fingertips upwards, through his arms, and down the rest of his body. He inhaled sharply as he gazed back down at Cas, unable to break the intense eye contact. Atleast not until the brunette breaks eye contact and replied.

His expression softened immensely, as did his smile. He gave Cas's hand a reassuring squeeze. Wait, was this what people did when they first met? Gael wasn't experienced with this at all, let alone speaking to people. His voice had been taken from him long ago, but this felt...nice.

"I'm Gael. It's a pleasure to meet you, Cassiel." Gael replied telepathically. He wanted to compliment his smile, to tell him exactly how radiant it made him look. How he looked like an angel that could light up the entire room. Yet he held his tongue. He atleast knew that was a bit much. Instead, he opted to simply admire the brunette just a bit longer until he came back to reality. He cleared his throat, his ashy skin reddening a bit.

"So, have any idea what we're supposed to do now?" He reluctantly peeled his gaze away to look around. Seeing the two women moving to the doorway, he furrowed his brow. "I've never...been in this type of situation."


♡coded by uxie♡
 
Sondor
Half-Light Angel



We’re being attacked.

No, I don't think so. This one is simply doing what we could not.


Vaguely, Sonny was aware that he was being pulled onto his feet. An arm wrapped around his torso and a warm body pressed against his. When he turned his face to try and see who it was, his vision was filled with the color red. He tried to focus on the man's face, to stare him down. There was some part of him that prickled with irritation. That shied away at being picked up like some gutter-stray that had been found in an alley, soaking wet to the bone and starving for scraps. But isn’t that exactly what you are? No I’m—

Who am I?

Confusion blossomed in his chest. Sonny flinched away from it—found himself pressing against the bars of the cage surrounding him. No, not bars, arms. He let himself be carried. Everything was falling apart wherever he looked. He tried glancing down only to find that the floor had disappeared and a black void opened beneath his feet.


Sonny? Light’s voice reached out tentatively. Sonny, You were slipping and did not head our calls.

Sorry, Love. I didn’t mean to.


You never do.

Who's there?


I am. Sonny, listen. Marina’s powers have affected you strongly. I’m sorry, but we could not stop them—

Light’s attention was focused on him. Like warm sunlight. But we’ve never been outside. It’s funny isn’t it. How you can know the feeling of something and have no memory of it. There’s a word for that I think. Deja-vu.

Sondor, you’re starting to drift again.

Apologies, Dear.

—You’re with Mercury now. He’s taking you to the training room. Do you object?

Are we hurt?

No.

In danger?

Unlikely.

Then no objection.

The ground disappeared from beneath his feet, and for a moment Sonny truly believed he might fall into the abyss. Then they were moving fast enough that he could feel the air rushing past them, a bit like a breeze. Something in his chest fluttered, with joy. Sonny closed his eyes and murmured wondrously, “M’flying.”

He was beginning to lose himself again, to the joy of effortless movement this time, when he was jostled roughly. Sonny frowned. He wiggled a bit, trying to get more comfortable when suddenly it happened again, so he changed tactics and thrashed; sticking one boney elbow out to jab at his carrier in retaliation. This happened a few more times. Sonny felt a bit more awake with each sudden false threat that he might fall out of Mercury’s arms. The tension bled from his body and he found himself genuinely relaxed for the first time since waking up.

The feeling was contagious. He could sense the crowd of shadow-beasties tagging along in their wake. <Let us give chase!> He needn't hear them speak out loud to understand. Voiceless as they were, their joy was palpable through their connection. Sonny’s lips curled in a small, secret smile.

Unfortunately, like all good things, their ride came to an abrupt end. He was being put down and leaned against the wall with an unexpected amount of care. Sonny blinked dazedly, trying to renew his relationship with reality.




̶̨̙̲͙̅̒̉͘ ̵̡̰̙̩̻̦͔̲̤̉̂̒̕ ̷̜͖̙̞̰̳͎̹̯͓̤̞̗̄͂̍̓̌̋ ̴͍̺̣͍̪͛́́̈́͛͌̏̓̅̿͠ ̴̡̨̛͈͙͍̖̟̭͛̎̀̀͜͝ͅ ̷̨̛̭͖͓̜̱̰͕̹̙̺͇́̍̈́ ̸͈̖́̇͊̍̂͌̐͒̽ ̴̭̼̺̥͕̱̼͚͔̹̝̜̓̊͑͆̾͜ ̴̧̳̰̰̦̫̳̲͋͜͜

SMACK

̶̨̙̲͙̅̒̉͘ ̵̡̰̙̩̻̦͔̲̤̉̂̒̕ ̷̜͖̙̞̰̳͎̹̯͓̤̞̗̄͂̍̓̌̋ ̴͍̺̣͍̪͛́́̈́͛͌̏̓̅̿͠ ̴̡̨̛͈͙͍̖̟̭͛̎̀̀͜͝ͅ ̷̨̛̭͖͓̜̱̰͕̹̙̺͇́̍̈́ ̸͈̖́̇͊̍̂͌̐͒̽ ̴̭̼̺̥͕̱̼͚͔̹̝̜̓̊͑͆̾͜ ̴̧̳̰̰̦̫̳̲͋͜͜​





Pain registered across half of his face.

KILLHIMNOWSINKYOURTEETHINTOHISTHROAT! Dark snarled, invisible fangs bared as its shock turned to outrage at such betrayal. It lashed and threw itself at the walls of their shared space, which suddenly felt quite small. Sonny tipped his head back to find himself face to face with Mercury. His eyes lingered on the soft vulnerability of his throat, how easy it would be to lean forward and bite. He’d never see it coming.

“'At least take me to dinner first,” he replied.

Dark screeched in disapproval. Sonny winced. The grogginess had been chased away at last, but pain resonating behind his eyes told him that a headache was forming. In the background, Dark set to pacing like a tiger trapped in a cage.


A big, dumb animal. How fitting.

Play nice.

What use is there for being nice? I am not nice—Someone is coming.

Sonny turned his head, saw Verity paused in the open doorway, before she disappeared just as quickly. Sonny raised one eyebrow, somewhat confused. Looks like the party’s ended after all. Guess we didn’t miss much.

Incorrect. That one left early. Most of the others still remain. It’s horribly entertaining. A shame to miss, really.

Sonny frowned internally. That’s not fair and you know it.

Sonny didn’t need to see Dark to visualize its toothy grin. The creature just radiated smug satisfaction.


Worth it.

How characteristic for your spirits to be improved by taunts and provocations.

Don’t be jealous. You don’t wear it well.

There must have been chaos going on in the other part of the facility. Sonny looked longingly towards the Dining Room, then glanced skeptically at Mercury. Logically he was better off than before, but he still didn't particularly appreciate being removed from the party early. After all, it was just so rare that anything exciting happened to them.

So you’d rather have acquainted yourself with the floor then?

Hmph. Sonny ignored the jab and focused instead on his connection with Dark. He poked at the being curiously. Let me see properly.

Through their shared connection, Sonny was vaguely aware of each shadow-beast that had been summoned, though his connection to them was not as strong as Dark’s itself. His shadowy companion’s attention was split between the room with Sonny and the events transpiring between the rest of the group, which it observed through the beastie that had remained behind in the dining hall. He tried to lean on that connection, to see what Dark could see. He felt Dark mull over the request. Taking its time to roll the question around between its claws like something to be played with.


No.

Sonny groaned, then looked longingly towards the Dining Room again before turning back to Mercury with an accusatory glare. It had been forever since he’d been involved in anything even as remotely entertaining and to have it taken from him was absolutely unacceptable.

So is losing control. Take care not to let it happen again. I can’t help you when you're like this.

Light’s right, of course. That had been a serious loss of control. Sonny’s body is shaking, but was it fear or a desire to do it all over again? He’d been terrified and also exhilaratingly free. He’d have to find Marina and try it again at some point to find out. At least it gave him something to look forward to. In the meantime, there was still one person in the room that could still serve as a decent distraction. Blue eyes met turquoise ones playfully. “Thanks for the rescue, Mr. Knight.”



Training Room
Playful
White Uniform
coded by natasha.
 
Last edited:

Dew by Caulden
Fever
Dreams
01
In the kitchen with Cetus.
Currently at the sink.
Speaking to
Cetus

“I dunno about you, but I’m ready to figure the rest of this place out.” Merrit said, once he had finally freed himself from the table and stood tall.

His earnestness was a much welcomed addition to their exploration team, yet Boryan could only reward it with a nod, at present. With unblinking amber eyes the humanoid feline stayed in place and focused on the target, the sleeping man he had attempted to awaken.

Thus far, those that had consciously interacted within their group had presented themselves as reasonable people. While the level of their docility was debatable and variable, it couldn't be denied that all of them prioritized peace and rapport. However, there was no certainty that they were all cut from the same cloth, especially when it concerned someone who had remained under prolonged dormancy. Had the scientific team injected a stronger substance or higher dose specifically to this subjects due to his history? Did they intend to have everyone else up and alert before him, so that they could react, if needed? Even if the answer to both of these questions was a repetitive "no" and the man was calm upon awakening, explaining the situation to him was a tightrope they would have to walk in heels. In the best case scenario, he simply liked to sleep and would try to understand this playdate setting along with the rest them. In the worst case scenario, he would blame them for lying or assume them to be Seekers and attack. There was nothing that could suggest either of the two to be more likely, thus Boryan kept his guard up and did his best to remain as less threatening as possible. His shoulders were relaxed, his fur was flat and his right arm was outstretched to control the streamer as it tickled the man's nose. Extending it that much was not necessary, yet was a perfectly unassuming gesture, which, if faced with immediate force, could become a first line of defence. He would rather not have it come to that, alas, there was no time for the cat to say his prayer.

Thick long eyelashes trembled, indicating that their master was roused from his slumber. Nametag hidden due to his slumped posture, his identity was still a mystery, but the keen observer would notice clues about his character or, perhaps, his purpose. The paleness of his skin and the thin angular state of his figure could not hide the care with which he had been shaped. Even the little sneeze he let out was like the sniffle of a fawn, politely protesting against being disturbed. In response to this, the little party ribbon was gently floated off to the side and the street-born black cat kept quiet as the red-haired prince welcomed the dawn. With the speed of a sunrise, his eyelids lifted, revealing two crimson orbs, which moved ever so lightly left and right. Finally sitting up with his back straight, the man regained his sense of reality, letting out gentle groans and sighs as he touched his arm and surveyed the room. The serenity of this moment was enough to dispel some of Boryan's wariness, enough for him to lower his arm. Yet before his hand-paw could reach his side, the man's lips parted.

“WHY AM I AWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?”

Sure enough, the rooster sings at dawn.

Boryan's olive pupils became black moons as his eyes widened, following the one who had risen from his chair. Pale and thin the man may have been, yet his roar of rage possessed such thundering might, it resonated within the room and made the last idle person in the group fall from his seat and hit the cold tile floor on the opposite end of the dining table.

“WHAT IS THIS?!" the red-head hollered, whilst escaping the gap between his chair and the table. "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!” he chose Boryan's direction and pointed a slender sharp-nailed index finger in the other's direction. . “ARE YOU ------ ME!? A CAT? WHAT ELSE DID THEY MAKE? THE WHOLE CAST OF HOMEWARD BOUND!?”

'Probably. Huh! That smell!'

The distinct scent that had reached his nostrils was that of heated machinery. Taking the surroundings, the closeness between him and the other man and the current atmosphere into consideration, it took Boryan less than 5 seconds to realize that the most likely source were the black bands that encircled the wrists and neck of his aggressor. Focusing on them with his now needle-shaped pupils, it became evident that they were tightly wrapped in place and exerting some unexplainable force. Whether they were stimulating the man's anger or preventing it from escalating, however, remained unclear.

“WHY IS _SHE_ STILL ASLEEP!?” Cetus, as the nametag on his white uniform read, spun in place and faced the girls. Quinn and Deon had moved quickly into position to shield Marina, the only thing between them and Cetus being a chair. “I WANT THAT TO BE ME! WHY. AM. I. AWAAAKE?!" he screamed and grabbed a hold of said chair.

In the most comical turn of events, his attempt to flip the piece of furniture revealed that it had been bolted in place. A moment of silence ensued and was followed by Deon's effort at reasoning with the enraged test subject, only for him to snap at her, provoking what were ostensibly his inhibitors to tighten and shock him once more, turning him into a cursing rattling gun. Yet even before his barrage of profanities, Boryan had stopped taking him seriously.

'First, you showed your back to me after threatening me. If this was 5 years ago, you'd be sleeping. . .
Then, he complained about being awake. There's no continuity in his actions. Instead, he simply erupts with whatever he's feeling at the moment. From this, it's likely that his anger isn't directed towards any of us. It's not malice in the first place. It's a tantrum.'

he thought as the scenes played out in front of him.​

Having fully regained his composure, the bipedal feline cast his gaze towards Quinn. A low growl came from the depths of her chest and her sharp eyes dug into her opponent, who was one head taller than her. It was as if she would bare her fangs at any moment and pounce. Boryan hoped that by bringing to her attention his own unperturbed stance, he could reassure her that there was no need to engage. Not only would a response of animosity not help the situation, there was also the possibility of the Seekers restraining her for openly displaying hostility. For good measure, he lightly shook his head once and blinked in the process. With Cetus cursing like a sailor whilst twisting left and right, it was only a matter of time before he tired himself out. All they had to do was be patient and not aggravate him.

As if he had read his mind and actively chosen to go against his plan, Damocles rushed into the banquet hall. He came at a moment when Cetus, in his disarray, had changed his target and once more faced the cat in the room. The blue-eyed first-name-unknown had sparkled in Boryan's view for a meagre few seconds, before this fascination was replaced by utter confusion when the newcomer halted in place between the two men.

'You idiot!'
"YOU WANNA DIE?"
'Exactly!'
“If only I could be so fortunate- but let’s not deal in haste. Are you hurt?”
'. . . ' Boryan stared at Damocles with astonishment, not a single thought running through his mind.
“W-.... WHAT?! FCK OFF, Mary poppins!”

While Cetus proceeded to try flipping another chair, grumble about as he walked and eventually return to his starting position, Boryan maintained his gaze on the other man-wonder. He was as silent and outwardly unimpressed as before, yet internally, he was trying to make sense of the pure absurdity of this scene.

'I am a 180-cm-tall black cat on two legs, equipped with claws, teeth and a body predominantly made of muscle. I'm the most immediately dangerous monster in this room. What possessed you to think you can stand in between me and that brat? I could have clawed at him, for all you know. Does this have to do with what you said about being "fortunate"?. . . Sigh, you'll be more difficult to deal with than I thought. Heh, you even asked him "Are you hurt?". What a poor joke.'

"Feel better?" Damocles asked Cetus with a frosty tone, much to Boryan's distaste.
"NO." Cetus snarled, hunched over by his chair, panting heavily. "I HATE waking up from anaesthesia."
'As expected, that's not how you ask these questions. At least we now know the reason for his fit.'

Quietness engulfed the room after what felt like an eternal pandemonium. Their red-haired companion had comparatively calmed down, but was still struggling with the final side-effects of the drugs that the scientists had injected into him. Just as Boryan was about to suggest he take a seat and wait until the dust settled, Damocles cut him off.

"Listen," he ushered forth, placing one hand on the metal table and leaning over Cetus. "If you do that again, we may lose privileges. None of us wish you any harm."

“Damocles is right. We’re all in the same boat." Merrit chimed in from beside his seat. "And by the looks of it, we’ll be staying here for a while.”

“Sheesh, what drugs did they give you?" Mercury, who had returned during the commotion, commented as he strolled towards them, on the opposite side of the table.

'Good. We've laid down the foundation.' Boryan kept his lips sealed and watched as Marina rose from her seat. 'These three might be starkly different, but they united when facing a common problem.' The woman walked around Quinn and Deon on bare feet, looking like a child going to her parents's room in the middle of the night. 'Damocles gave him cold facts. Merrit reaffirmed in a friendly manner. And Mercury's casual comment made the nature of our intentions clear.' She hummed as she drew near, which made him, in turn, step forward to the same line as Reese, in case assistance was necessary. 'With everyone awake and all 4 of us "more experienced helpers" present, we should make a plan. Perhaps, we could divide into groups to explore the three designated areas . . . And make sure to come back here to . . . '

A lovely melody gently flowed within the room, like the warm, welcoming smell of bread fresh out of the oven. It caressed their souls and offered them the gift of tranquillity in the sea of uncertainty, in which they had been stranded. Those that were closest to the songstress basked in this blessing, with Deon swaying along, eyes closed, smiling as though she had been carried away on the wings of an angel. Across from her, Boryan was taken by the stream in a different direction.

'There's no need to rush.'

The words of his mother, Roza, were as clear as the day she had spoken them. One moment, he was there, looking up at her round emerald eyes full of kind unconditional love. In the next, he was standing to the side, seeing his younger self and his mother illuminated by the orange rays coming through the tall windows of their restaurant, one summer's late afternoon. As if they were any woman and her child. As if he were a stranger. With closed eyes, he let out a quiet sigh, accepting this feeling that was neither sadness, nor nostalgia.

Many years had passed since he had been at a height much shorter than her. When he could hold onto her hand, seek her out for comfort and call out "Mommy". Back then, it felt like just the sight of her could bring order to the chaotic world. She had the answer to every question, the solution to every problem. The light that brought warmth into their home was in her hands and she shared it with everyone, waiting at the door. Yet time marched on and waited for no one. He had grown above her line of sight. At some unknown point, "mommy" had been replaced with "mother". And his hand could now cradle hers. Walking on the path of life, he knew that he could not go back. Neither to those sunlit days, nor to the only place his heart could ever call "Home". He could only stop for but a moment to look back fondly at those memories and watch as they dissolve, like sand scattered in the sea.

Opening his eyes, he was just in time to catch Damocles sigh and walk away, not sparing him or anyone else a glance. Boryan's eyes trailed after him, yet there was no sense of longing or an urge to follow. Simply the recollection that that was how it was meant to be. People came and people went, no matter how dear or beloved. It was a truth that he had internalized in the process of becoming someone, something, that didn't wish or search for "eternality". The parents, whom he loved. The friends, whom he cherished. The children, whom he had taken care of. He could only hold them for a single breath, before they slipped through his fingers.

Looking at this merry little band, where Mercury whisked Sonny away with one of his wisecracks and one of the other experiments lightheartedly laughed at the expression Cetus had made whilst under Marina's calming spell, Boryan let a deep exhale, but this time with contentment. Whether they would stay with him until their end or be his guests for a day, it mattered not. He was Boryan Cappello, the black cat of the CaTS division. His purpose was clear and, although the mission at present was currently shrouded in mystery, his role had been assigned and awaited him.

In accordance with the verbal promise he had made, he had stayed until everyone had become awake and clear-headed. After Verity and Cetus had left one after the other, one third of the group had ventured beyond the door. Feeling that this room's use had been exhausted, Boryan took a few steps towards Deon, Quinn and Marina. A moment ago, Rorie had joined their circle, albeit she had yet to speak. She stared unblinkingly at Marina, examining her and visibly formulating her contemplations and questions. The cat-man chose not to disturb her process, as well as Deon, whose expression was painted with tiredness. Just as Rorie uttered her first words at Marina, Boryan stood beside Quinn.

"I'll advance and search for the kitchen. If anything happens or you need me, follow my scent. I won't turn you down, no matter the case. " he passed on his intentions to her and proceeded forward.

Although he had made it sound like an arduous mission, finding the kitchen had been an effortless task. Immediately after the banquet hall was a long corridor, which did not stem from the door, but rather continued leftward, whilst to the right was a short blank wall, indicating that this room had been the last on one of the corridor's long sides. With silent pawsteps, Boryan chose the closest door as his next destination. It was on the opposite long side of the banquet hall and was a short waking distance away from it. Once in front of it, it promptly opened on its own and revealed a sight quite different from the previous one.

The kitchen. A well-lit yet ambient space, full of smoky-white cabinets with black metal handles, above which hung a white trimmed and molded tray ceiling with LED lines and many small circular lights. From the very moment he stepped in, Boryan felt pleased with the way in which it had been arranged and quickly realised that the single door through which he had entered could not be considered the main one. That honour belonged to a large double door far to his left, flanked on each side by tall glass-door cabinets - one for cups and glassware and the other for dishes, bowls and the like.

In front of this grand entrance were two L-shaped counters. Their slightly shorter arms ran on one line, parallel to the double door, yet they did not meet. Instead, there was space in between them that was more than enough for a person to easily walk through in a straight line from the entrance. By their side, which faced said doorway, each had three dark brown wooden bar stools, making for a total of six seats available for any impatient or curious soul that wished to witness the magic of cookery. The slightly longer arms of the L-shaped counters extended away from the double door, yet didn't end at the opposite wall. Instead, a corridor for a little over two people existed between their ends and the counter that ran for almost the entirety of the wall, providing ample breathing room for what was evidently meant to be a busy kitchen.

With this intended purpose in mind, the rectangular space that was formed between the two mirroring L-shapes outlined the chef's working area. Within it there was a cooking island with the side directly facing the double door housing a sink and two dishwashers, while the opposite one was empty at the top and held several drawers for utensils bellow. Neighbouring it by the wall were two large ovens with matching gigantic aspirators hanging above them. This setup allowed the cook to quickly move from washing to chopping any ingredients on the island, from where they could take them and continue their work at the stove.

If one were to walk from the ovens towards the door at which Boryan currently stood, the counter would soon end so that a different door on the same wall may easily be opened. If one were to walk in the other direction, there would be a short countertop, followed by a large double-doored refrigerator. Afterwards was another counter that bent at the angle of the room and continued until it arrived at another single door, which lay directly across from Boryan. This final counter had a big professional coffee machine, a microwave and a toaster, all ready and waiting for anyone looking forward for a quick cup and breakfast.

All of this was grounded by a glossy dark oak luxury vinyl floor. It was the only momentary curiosity Boryan had about the overall design, since the kitchens he had worked at had always had tiles rather than vinyl. However, he didn't puzzle over it for long. The doors of the fridge were wide open and a tall figure was rummaging its contents, sniffing and grunting like a boar. From his height and sound, Boryan deducted that the most probable identity of the culprit was Cetus and, knowing how their last interaction went, he chose to leave the man be. His tide had retreated for the time being and, surely, he wouldn't cause a scene so soon after his first, especially when he suffered the consequence of being stung by his inhibitors. Convinced in his own assumption, the feline slid beside the empty wall like the dark creature he was and reached the single door that was on the same side as the fridge and ovens. Just as before, it quietly opened on its own, yet even if it made a noise, Cetus's own sound effects were enough to deafen it to his ears.

What met him on the other side was unmistakeably the storage area. After a brisk inspection, the person in charge of this territory became acquainted with its layout. It was a large room that was divided into sectors with one corridor running parallel to the door. At the end of this corridor was a door to what could be dubbed as the "Cleaning sector". Inside it were two rows of five washing machines stacked on top of one another and cabinets full of detergents, mops, solutions and various other cleaning supplies. Next were, as follows, the "Bathroom sector", which had towels and everything necessary for a toilet; the "Bedroom sector", which had pillows, sheets and the like and the "Work sector", which had all sorts of stationary and some simple tools. These three sectors, much like the "Cleaning" one, all had doors, but were comparatively smaller. Finally, directly in front of the entrance was the largest among them - the pantry. It had no door and consisted of shelves, short cabinets and two freezers, arranged in the shape of an "m".

'We aren't short on anything. Hopefully, the scientists will resupply, but just in case, we shouldn't be wasteful. I'll make a log of everything later.' Boryan thought as he reached the entrance.

The door of the storage room opened automatically. Before he could take a step forward, his ears picked up a conversation in the kitchen.

“I believe ‘Dolly’ said that Cat bloke is in charge of the kitchen. He may know what’s actually edib-...”

It was Damocles. He was cut off from finishing his sentence by the sound of someone trying their hardest to open a plastic wrapper. After the silent individual gave up on the endeavour, he continued with:

“I was just having a look around. I’ll leave you to,...Whatever this is.”

Footsteps came after.

'Cat bloke, huh. At least you know who's in charge here.' Boryan thought. Damocles had audibly left the kitchen when he exited the storage room. 'Of course, expectations and responsibilities come with the role. I'd better see what actually is edib-. . .'

Several little wrappers, some empty, some unopened and some with their contents bitten once, littered the floor in front of the refrigerator. One after the other, they formed a path that lead to the nearest corner, at the end of which was the perpetrator of this crime. Cetus sat on the floor, motionless, his back pressed against the cabinet door and his knees bent and huddled to his chest. His white shirt gone, he had nothing more than a thin black tank-top on his upper body, revealing a pair of pale athletic arms and the black bands that wrapped around them. Eyes downcast and slightly sunken, cheeks a bit too gaunt for his body type and lips on the verge of bleeding, it was as thought someone had snuffed out this young man's final candle in the darkest hour of the night.

Seeing Cetus in this despondent state, Boryan witnessed the curtain drop and the actor come out on stage. He was a scrawny youth with messy short red hair, lost and alone among strangers., It appeared that helplessness had finally overwhelmed him, cornered him into submission and made him face the dismal truth of their reality. Under the artificial lights of their "new home" his body shined, yet his gaze was murky and even when the bipedal cat approached him, his mind remained under a shadowy vail.

Bare paws closed the distance between the two men. Always keeping Cetus in his peripheral vision, Boryan opened the double doors of the fridge for inspection. Some things had been shoved sideways or rearranged, but no damage had been done overall. As he made mental notes of what they had, his black whiskers twitched in delight when he saw a little bucket of yogurt. Without a shred of hesitation, he took it out and was even more pleased when he read it was the real thing, not one of those sweetened versions, and an idea sparked.

Of the 10 eggs on the fridge door he touched 3 and used his ability to float them to the sink. Leaving them inside it and the yogurt on the kitchen isle, he circled around and opened one of the short cabinets beside the ovens. As expected, inside were pots of various sizes, from which he picked a smaller one. Moving swiftly, as if he had worked there his entire life, Boryan made a full circle by going from beside the oven to the sink, where he filled the pot with water, and continued around the island to stand in front of the oven, where he put down the pot and turned on the heat.

'They did a good job here. I won't have trouble cooking for all of these hungry mouths. But now, butter.' he thought and briefly paid the storage room a visit.

What he came back with was a bit more than just butter, which had oddly been missing in the fridge. Laying down the butter, curd, parsley, red pepper, spinach and onion on his work station in front of the oven, he was just in time to notice the water begin to boil inside the pot, which was his cue to wash the eggs at the sink and proceed to crack them open inside the pot. Boryan was quite capable of using his hand-paws for most everyday tasks, yet for some of them he preferred to perform with his telekinesis. It was efficient, sometimes faster and definitely more hygienic. With the 3 eggs enjoying their hot bath, the chef at work summoned the small yogurt bucket to his side and opened one of the drawers in front of the oven in the kitchen isle. Inside, he found utensils of many a kind, but the only one he needed at the moment was a fork. After adding it as his second item in his arsenal of floating objects, he went to the other end of the room and grabbed two deep glass plates, which he would set on the short countertop between one of the ovens and the refrigerator. The eggs were well-poached in a matter of minutes. Satisfied with the result, Boryan scooped them out with a circular spatula and put them inside one of the plates. Since the water was no longer necessary, he dumped it inside the sink, but didn't turn down the oven just yet. Setting the empty pot back on the stove, he put a spoon of butter inside, waited for it to warm up and then added some red pepper. When adding the final ingredient, one had to stir immediately and only let it sit on the fire for very few seconds. If left untouched for longer, the powder would burn, emitting a strong smell and producing an unpleasant taste. Fortunately, Boryan had made this dish so many times, he could cook it with his eyes closed and whiskers trimmed. With the red butter now complete, the final step consisted of adding the red butter to the eggs and then topping the eggs with the yogurt, which he had homogenized by beating inside the bucket with the fork.

A light tingling smell and a wisp of steam came from the completed dish. Once more taking advantage of the gift of his fate, Boryan floated it a few centimetres above his hand-paw as he walked over to the end of the L-shaped counter closest to Cetus. The person in question got up as he drew near, but still seemed hazy from the change in altitude.

"Three eggs in yogurt with butter and red pepper." Boryan said whilst setting the dish down on the countertop with the fork from before placed on top of it. "Back where I'm from, we call it "eggs-on-eyes". Eat as much as you like. If you want bread, there's a breadbox behind you on the countertop." he explained, then turned around to go grab the pot and move it to the sink, continuing in the meantime with "If you don't want to eat, leave it. I'll make an omelette next. If you have any food allergies or preferences, let me know."

After revealing his plan, Boryan busied himself at the sink, yet he was not in a hurry. He wanted to give Cetus as much time and space as possible, while simultaneously keeping him in the company of others. Eating itself would definitely help his condition, both physically and mentally, which was why Boryan chose a healthy light dish with a pleasant aroma and soft texture. Food brought people together and, while he didn't expect a miracle, he knew a nice warm meal was a far better option than lying on the cold ground with an empty stomach.
Code by Nano
 
Quinn
The Talon


“Understood,” Quinn replied, feeling a sense of relief in how Boryan was addressing her, using simple, easy to follow directions. She was feeling out of her depth already. She was still excited of course, but trying to keep up with the others wasn’t as easy as it looked. She’d thought perhaps that it would be like stepping onto a new military base, only without a guide or any orders to help ease the unfamiliarity. But she’d been so wrong. The earlier chaos had been nothing like any of her previous experiences at all. There had been screaming and shouting, and if it hadn’t all been bolted to the floor then the furniture might have even gone flying. The whole event had been rather disorienting. Enough so that she’d growled at Cetus, something she’d have been reprimanded severely for in any other circumstance. Although she'd stopped when her slip-up had been caught, secretly Quinn didn’t have any regrets about her own behavior. Cetus had been well out of line. “Maybe Cetus could use some water,” she suggested as the thought struck upon mention of the kitchen. Dehydration could easily explain his strange behavior, though it would be poor care on his handlers behalf to allow for such a thing.

Many of the experiments had begun to leave the room. Quinn watched them go almost wistfully, not quite sure what she should do. She looked around. Quinn didn’t see signs of speakers or anything to mark where her voice had come from, but Dolly must be observing them somehow. At least she wouldn’t be completely on her own. Between the reassuring presence of their new supervisor and the friendly reception she’d gotten from Boryan, she felt mostly secure in her ability to tackle any upcoming challenges. I suppose it’s a bit like a puzzle. It might take some time, but I’m sure I’ll find my place eventually.

After all, it was looking like they’d be in this place for a while. That in itself was exciting. Quinn was looking forward to getting to know her new teammates and for the opportunity to work with experiments from different projects. Since she’d been active on the field, she had come across others before, but never had she been in a position where she could actually talk to them or learn more about the different types of experiments. Mckee was the chattiest of the technicians and usually quite good at answering questions, but even his knowledge about the other experiments had been limited. Dr. Ellis had explained to her before that there wasn’t much overlap between Project Talon and the others:

“We stand on our own two feet quite well. There’s enough meddling from above as it is, without everyone poking their noses into each other’s work.” Dr. Ellis was examining several charts. Quinn didn’t recognize much about them, other than her own name. “Why the sudden interest, dear?”

“Just curious.” She said, eyes trailing around the familiar room like it might reveal some new secret suddenly after countless visits. “I overheard that there were other fliers on the base. I’ve never seen them practice. What are they like?”

“That depends. There’s lots of flying experiments.” Mckee said, nonchalant. He was prepping the station for routine examinations. Mckee always started with bloodwork. He’d sorted his vials for easy switch out and was readying the needle to pierce her skin. There was a small pinch. Quinn didn’t react. “Lots?”

“Of course, there’s lots. There’s all sorts of experiments. I reckon if someone’s thought it up, you can find at least a prototype somewhere in the works. Of course, not everything that looks good on paper works out.” Mckee’s eyes took on a distant look. “Heaven knows some blokes ‘ave got the worst luck out there. Glad to ‘ave this job now.”

“You like working with Talons then?” A tinge of uncertainty in her voice. She didn’t understand it herself, but for some reason she was feeling anxious.

“Don’t you worry now.” Mckee leaned forwards and ruffled her short hair. “Wouldn’t trade my job even for the better pay.”

Dr. Ellis didn’t pause in her examinations, but Quinn saw the shift in her features as she considered something. “There are lots of different experiments in the works, Quinn. I don’t know which others were there on your last mission, but the Talons are one of the Seekers oldest projects. There’s not much competition when it comes to experiments of your caliber.”

“I see.”


“Good. Now, have you experienced any pain since…”


1675639274281.png

The memory faded. Quinn still hadn't quite decided what she should do, though now she felt an additional pang in her chest. She had almost decided to follow Boryan to the kitchen in order to seek his advice on how she might proceed, when when Quinn felt her ears perk up; Rorie Sutler and Marina were in the midst of a discussion and something about the conversation had grabbed her attention.

"I don't eat normal food. I need a plant. Any kind of plant. It has to be alive. I'm not exactly sure they have any in here though. Gods, this is going to be a shitshow."

"I can help you look for some plants if you would like, the search might go faster with both of us looking." Marina offered. She swept a hand outwards to gesture at the doorway.

"Alright. Let's go look."

Search and detection. There was something she could do.

“I can assist you, if you’d like.” Quinn approached the pair with her hands clasped together behind her back to keep from waving them about as she talked. A bad habit of hers, that occasionally resurfaced when she was very nervous or tired. First impressions were important. Whether it was showing off her abilities to a potential investor or guiding a new Talon through basic training, it was always harder to repair a damaged image than it was to start from scratch. That was something she’d realized early on in her career. “I’m very good at identifying local species. Or even if it’s a type of houseplant, I’m sure I can still be helpful. I used to have all sorts of guides for plants and wildlife in my room.”


Banquet Hall
Eager
White Uniform
coded by natasha.
 
BOTAN
FLOWERS AND WILDS

Thrown to the side by a man a bit unruly, he let himself stay slumped down as the world carried on and he listened. There was a lot going on, and he wished he could just lay there forever and sleep. Those leafy wings had parted from him as dead twigs and fallen leaves do from trees in the Autumn. He really wanted to lay there and rot away rather than deal with so many people, but that seemingly serene ideal was shattered at an eruption of screaming so volcanic, it shot straight to his nerves. With a clear mind, and he wondered if it was entirely clear, he could handle anything except for irate screaming and noises. The kind that grate the basins of your ears and drive nails in your brain, that's what this was to him. This was what provoked violence unnatural to his character. But as quick as he shot up with intent to handle the problem on his terms, a much more powerful, soothing force rippled throughout the room.

A reverie most gentle visited him, he standing on the surface of water, stretched out as far as the eye could see. The sky above blue with clouds that scurried with the colors of the sun bathing them. It was monumentally peaceful. And every form of aggression and crumb of despair had dissipated. He was swinging back and forth on a swing, until the world, much quieter, returned again. It was in the following conversations he heard Rorie's words "I need to eat plants."

Wow, okay, way to tell me I'm food over here. Still, that wasn't her fault, none of them being here or outrageously annoying like Cetus was their fault, but the Seekers. Being he was someone who could manipulate and grow plants from himself, it was reasonable he was here to at least help her survive. Granted, he was really hoping he would be capable of satiating her hunger, and not feeding a bottomless experiment. At Marina's suggestion, it almost felt as if they hadn't perceived his formerly present wings as vegetation- he was alrigth with that in case this woman tried picking them in the future.

"Um, actually ladies, I think I have what you're looking for," mildly nervous he extended his arm where from his wrist and up his forearm twigs rose and spread out. Leaves soon budded and unfurled out. When the growth was acceptably lush, he broke off the bough and with a face that said, "here's lunch I guess," he hands it to the woman with a black bob. "Would this... be enough?" It would have been one thing if she had said she was vegetarian, then he would have thought that's what she meant. But just plants, made it sound like she was going to somehow stuff her face with a bush.

"You mentioned you can determine kinds of plant and wildlife," he adds, curious of the younger one's knowledge. Quinn he thinks, "what do you think this is?" She may have a time limit being that this was technically food and not just for show. The plant was sweet and fragrant, it often attracted birds and butterflies. Glossy deep green leaves about three inches long, oval, and evergreen. Naturally it was a slow growing plant, but the rapid growth was well within his own ability.


Banquet, Hall
Calm, Concerned
white outfit
Marina SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles Rorie Eliruz Eliruz Quinn Abyss Abyss
coded by natasha.
 
Last edited:









scroll








The Syphon



Rorie.













mood

Slightly Overwhelmed, Nervous











Outfit

White Jumpsuit











location

Banquet Hall















tags

tags here
















As the woman is about to leave the room, she stops at the sound and sight of Quinn. She stops in her tracks and considers her options. The brunette could have some valuable information on the types of plants around this odd place, but at the same time, that's more people bearing witness to her hunger and absurd way of feasting. Nobody but the Seekers and select scientists had ever seen her feed. What if it was off-putting? Or worse, scared them away?

Rorie's features tense a bit with uncertainty, her nose subtly scrunching. Gloved hands shove their way into her jumpsuit pockets almost instinctively.

"I, erm..I wouldn't mind the help." She replies to Quinn. The flightiness of her tone is very evident, and she makes no efforts to hide it. Maybe Quinn would be a good asset when it came to feeding time. A good resource for Rorie to lean on, potentially. She would consider herself weary until otherwise proven.

Turning back towards the door, she hears yet another voice. A masculine one. One she recognized. Her brows knit together. The emptiness in her stomach and chest ached, causing the dark-haired woman to wince. If she didn't eat soon, she'd black out, which meant things were out of her hands at that point.

A deep breath. Rorie turns around once again to find the man whom once adorned the wings of foliage. Her mossy gaze flickers over the man, narrowing. She still wasn't very happy about being thwacked over the head with the leafy appendage that were once shooting out of his back. Did he want to help too?

She stood there stiffly, listening and watching his every move. Her eyes snap to the wrist he raised. A baffled look melts away her weary expression almost immediately. She opens her lips, trying to form the correct words. What the hell was she supposed to say to a random person who grew a plant out of their arm? "Thanks so much! That's brilliant!" "Holy shit, dude. What the actual fu-" "Whoa."

"I-.." Rorie attempts to figure out what to say before settling for a quiet, "Yes, this'll do fine. Thank you.."

Her gloved hands slip from her suit's pockets and gingerly take the plant.

The electronic ring around her upper bicep begins blinking, as if sensing the source of food. One of the bands loosens enough to slip off the glove. She drapes it over her arm for a moment and takes a step back from the group self-consciously. She takes a deep breath before wrapping her ungloved hand around the stem of the plant. A rush of vitality and energy rushes through Rorie. Her green hues glow for a few moments as her body absorbs the plant's life energy. The poor plant shrivels on contact, the life seemingly sucked out of it.

Her skin is less pale and the hungry glint in her eyes vanishes, leaving an anxious spark.

The spectacle is visible to the trio.

Rorie quickly pulls her glove back on, the arm band locking back into place. She winces slightly at the pressure.

"Thank you again.." The woman mumbles, her cheeks dusting over with a light blush of embarrassment.



 
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location
At the end of the table towards the door.
mood
elated, amorous, michevous
outfit
outfit over here.
mentions
Savanah.
Jack Beaumont

"It’s nice to meet you Jack, you can call me Dream.” the little saint had stuttered out as Jack had slid his hand up to his wrist.

Those two cyan eyes looked slightly misty and attempted to avoid him, yet he could tell their owner wasn’t dissatisfied. From where his fingers rested, he could feel Dream’s quickened pulse, as well as the little tremors that ran down his heated skin. Had it been any other situation, Jack would have thought he was making the youth uncomfortable, yet combined with that unmistakeable blush and his willingness to remain, the man believed that the source of this nervousness was not that of displeasure. Could it truly be excitement? The thought teased him. His voice beckoned him. His entire appearance made him want to send his hands further, to find the source of this trembling.

“W-would you like some help up from the floor? I’m sure it’s not very comfortable as a place to sit.”
“By all means.” Jack beamed.

Those urges may have been enticing, but it was neither the time, nor place for their fulfilment. Jack Beaumont was no grasshopper on the field of love. He had chased and been chased, received and gifted men and women alike. Whether the end result would be a single night or more, courtship had traditions that everyone upheld. If not followed at least to some degree, the experience wouldn’t be fun for either party, no matter how attractive the two of you were. Patiently taking one step at a time was something he practiced on a daily basis with his career as well, thus the little flame that stubbornly burned within him had to be calmed. There was no need to extinguish it, though. It had been so long since he had felt so feverish, it was normal to be a bit hasty and although he couldn’t pour oil in just yet, he could relish its warmth and beauty.

Surprisingly, Dream had ample strength to pull Jack from under the table and keep them both steady. Their bodies neared as they rose to a full stand, enough for Jack to catch a whiff of a refreshing sweet yet also minty smell from Dream. It was faint, but he could clearly distinguish that there was a peculiar mixture of two elements. If Dream was not too preoccupied with them maintaining a close proximity, he could also catch a light sweet scent from his partner, the result of constant upkeep from The Atlantis Division.

“Thank you very much.” Jack said. Placing a hand on Dream’s shoulder, he let out a small sigh. “Sorry for the trouble. I’ve got low blood pressure, so getting up quickly can make me a little dizzy.”

"Um, actually ladies” a man’s voice came from nearby. “I think I have what you're looking for."

Although Botan had spoken before, he had not left a lasting impression on Jack, who at the time had still been feigning sleep. Without a name or any other label to attach to this individual, his bright blue eyes finally broke their concentration on Dream. Sure enough, the stranger had addressed a group of three charming damsels, one of whom was the pink-haired maiden. What they had been looking for, alas, Jack had also missed, for his mind had been overtaken by the one by his side until a moment ago. Before any of them could utter a word in response, the man whose hair was white as cream cheese extended his arm forward and from his wrist and up his forearm twigs sprung out and leaves unfurled on their branches. When the growth had reached a level he found acceptable, with one swift movement he broke off the bough and with an uncertain expression offered it to a woman with a black bob cut.

“Would this… be enough?” the man asked.
“I-” the woman was at a loss, yet visibly happy about the gift. “Yes, it’ll do. Thank you.” She mumbled and accepted the makeshift bouquet.
"You mentioned you can determine kinds of plant and wildlife," the man referred to Quin, who was the third member of the group. “What do you think this is?”

Watching all of this unfold, Jack kept silent, but when the man went from attending one lady to the other, he couldn’t help himself.
He whistled.
‘And I thought I was being hasty.’ He thought, glancing briefly at Dream before returning his focus on the others.

The black-haired woman backed up from the group circle and nimbly removed one of her thick black gloves, revealing a pale graceful hand which grasped the bough with great ferocity. In a matter of seconds, the plant that was once full of life shrivelled and became a husk, ready to turn into dust at any moment. Meanwhile, the woman seemed to be rejuvenating herself. Her complexion now looking healthier, colour filler her cheeks and she once more thanked her benefactor.

“Now that looks like a strong ability.” Jack remarked. Considering how close the two groups were to each other, he knew that she could hear him, however, it mattered not. “Compared to that, mine is practically harmless.” He sighed and held up his hand at eyesight level. Out of thin air a cocktail glass appeared. Its bowl rested in his palm as he gently swirled the mystical purple contents within. “Aviation Cocktail.” Jack said, now looking at Dream. “Gin, maraschino, crème de violette and lemon juice.” He took one sip and continued. “Slightly sweet, slightly sour and definitely floral. What about you, Dream? Do you make dreams come true?” he chuckled at the end, taking another sip from his cocktail.
coded by natasha.
 





Verity


Meer

]












Verity had rolled up her pants and was swishing her legs in the water, watching the small eddies that formed in their wake. She knew that she’d have to return to the group eventually, but for now she was enjoying the closest sensation to peace she’s been able to experience for a long time. There were bound to be cameras or some sort of surveillance system keeping tabs on the room, but she couldn’t see them and there was no sound of guards or radios either. Just the gentle sound of moving water and her own steady breathing. Isolation was an illusion, but nonetheless welcome.

Drifting into something that resembled an almost meditative state, the light footsteps of another person alert her to the fact she’s no longer alone. Verity looks up to see another woman walking into the pool room. She has bright white hair, although she appears quite young. Verity recognizes her vaguely as Freyja; the woman who’d been placed across from her at the table. She approaches the pool and mumbles something that Verity doesn’t quite catch.

It takes a moment for the other experiment to turn her focus away from the water, but Verity catches the brief look of surprise on Freyja’s face when she finally notices Verity on the other end of the room. Her eyes are red. Like rubies or freshly spilled blood. At once both strange and beautiful. "Apologies for intruding, I can leave if you would like to be alone."

“You’re not intruding,” Verity replies without a second thought.

She also feels a bit like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t, though it's not as if they’d been given any restrictions regarding use of the pool. Or even if they had been, that she would be concerned with obeying the Seekers. Regardless, Verity finds herself feeling a bit abashed and ducking her head in a moment of uncharacteristic rebuke. Or, perhaps Freyja was worried for another reason. “I’m sorry if I startled you. Earlier. I’m not feeling very myself lately.”

Understatement of the year, wouldn’t you say?

Verity feels her heart start to race. It pounds once, twice—three times in earnest before abruptly settling back into a steady, slow rhythm. That’s strange. It’s not entirely unusual for her to be jumpy, but this is different from her usual anxiety. Less like trepidation and more like bubbly excitement? “It’s a bit odd, don't you think?” Verity looked towards Freyja, curious. It was true that she went to the pool to escape everyone else, but for a reason she can’t quite understand, the idea of this particular girl leaving makes her feel quite sad.

Whatever the reason, Verity feels compelled to continue talking, if only to give Freyja a reason to stay, even though she’s never been the type to make idle conversation. A part of Verity regrets her decision to ignore any attempts at conversations with her captors beyond what was absolutely necessary. Her voice sounds rusty even to her own ears, and she struggles to find the right words even though it feels like talking shouldn’t be quite this difficult. “I mean. Everything that’s been done. To us.” With a sigh, she leans forward to free her hands so that she can make a gesture to the facility in general. She can feel her face turning more pink with every awkward attempt to try and come up with something good to say. “I wouldn’t have imagined this at all.”





Pool | Flustered| SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles



♡design by riptide, coded by uxie♡
 
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Indeed, Cetus was lost in the dark static of his own mindscape. The kick-back of trying to shove edible oddities into an upset, nervous, angry acidic tummy was beginning to knock his brain fuzzy.

And, as silent and stealthy as Boryan was, there wasn’t a power beyond actual invisibility that could make you ignore a giant house cat coming your way. His knee-jerk reaction was to stand and ready himself… His animated performance earlier surely had pissed the creature off.

That’s why he’s sniffed out and hunted his prey down… cornering him in the kitchen. Cetus’ knuckles went white as he grasped the edges of the counters, and like a pitbull in a ring he readied himself for a… fight. Well, perhaps he would be if suddenly he didn’t imagine a distant inviting accordion playing.

The cat was beginning to cook, like a nursery rhyme or a kid’s book, there was a magic feline summoning floating containers of yogurt and to someone as uncultured as Cetus, it was horrifying watching yogurt go anywhere near eggs. His suspicious yet curious gaze swept across the scene several times, red irises following Boryan’s every flick of the wrist or magic dancing food trick. Is he a freakin’ Jedi?

The smell began to hit him, though. At first it was unpleasant, but he realized quickly the ache was a signal that alerted him, ‘yeah, you haven’t eaten a home cooked meal in years’.


Three eggs in yogurt with butter and red pepper.” His deep voice ushered forth like the deity of culinary Olympia. His paw levitated the dish, and then in one swift motion, it was there before Cetus. The tall redhead glared at Boryan, then casted his eyes down to the dish, and back right up to Boryan.





.....What the f*ck, Catatouille….” He whispered, more to himself than to Bo, as the cat was already leaving Cetus to marinate in his confusion and set about his own tasks with silky precision.


The dish looked… Huh. Considering Cetus had little to no memories of the outside world, or what he used to eat, he wasn’t sure if this was disgusting or appetizing. Though he glanced at the sink, the corner of his mouth was beginning to drool… With that said, as Boryan turned his back, his words were soon to be answered. “-If you have any food allergies or preferences, let me know.” An unattached yet never-the-less thoughtful string of sentences, followed by the sound of a crashing plate.





Mama mia… Had he… HAD HE?


Cetus crunched the unknown chunks of whatever the dishes were made of beneath his laceless shoes. Looking before him though, it seemed he hadn’t done it on purpose. A different plate had been lost to the floor, but Boryan’s Eggs On Eyes was… Safe. It seems Cetus had rushed in too quickly to scarf it up and only spared the other broken dish a petulant glance.

“This tastes like shit,” Cetus announced through snarling bites and loud swallowing. “I hate pepper.” He grumbled out a complaint, but Boryan was surely smart enough to mark that down as… A compliance of sorts. He’d given an honest preference of food.


After a few animalistic bites and feral chewing, shoveling and devouring, Cetus had consumed the meal and wiped what remained on his mouth across his arm. Like a drug had just been shot into him, he rolled his head back with a satisfied sigh and held his stomach. “I didn’t want it, but that troglodyte Jack might have smelled the gourmet bullshit you just did and got ahold of it.” And boy, could Cetus not stand for that. He wanted Jack to STARVE. When Cetus was done with the meal Boryan made him, he thought about smashing it to pieces with the other one below, but that was effort he’d already wasted on trying to flip the bolted down chairs… time to go see if anything else was flippable.

Though as he was making his way out of the kitchen, he almost ran into someone… again. And it was too soon for deja vu.

Damocles now blocked his path, leaning on the doorway and holding the door open with his foot. When their eyes met, Cetus felt an icy sensation travel down his spine.
Damocles, indeed, stood there with his glasses striking light from the kitchen’s ceiling, and his own glacial stare differed greatly from Reese earlier.

“You shouldn’t eat so fast. You’ll get a funny tummy.” Damocles told him, arms folded and shoulder pressed into the doorway, blocking the threshold.

“Can’t you just disappear? You weren’t even gone for ten minutes.” Cetus replied, though far more guarded and almost… bargaining?

Reese scoffed with a small smile. That also creeped Cetus out.

“And miss out on watching Chef Meow cook?” Reese replied softly. “No, no, I was going to leave, but then I smelled something that made me a bit peckish.”

Cetus narrowed his eyes. “Peckish? That crap made you hungry?” Cetus jutted a thumb back. “It tasted like-”


Before Cetus could insult Boryan’s cooking further, Reese tilted his head and his lenses reflected a flash of light once more. “...Go on, what did it taste like?” He waited for Cetus to finish his sentence. He waited an uncomfortable amount of time, in fact.


“Run along then, if you’re done.” Reese said after Cetus had been staring at him in pure silence, confusion and weariness etched into his brow. Like looking at a spider web, deciding how to walk though it without feeling the spindly legs of a nightmarish creature touch your skin, Cetus tried stepping around Reese. The dark haired man eventually stepped aside, letting the young man through.

Cetus, thanks to Boryan, was too full and tired to strike up a fight… Besides, beating up that British guy didn’t seem like fun right now. Kinda felt like he’d not enjoy it at all. Then again, his usual blind anger was giving way to this flighty feeling in his freshly filled gut, and going to explore would make him feel better than interacting with those two older guys… Mary poppins and Catatuoille.


Which, were now the only ones in the kitchen.


Reese unfolded his arms and snaked his hands down to his pockets, glancing back at the broken shards on the otherwise pristine flooring. “Unfortunate, that.” Reese said first, then slowly began making his way out of the kitchen. He wasn’t in a hurry- in fact it seemed like he was stalling. His icy gaze scanned the kitchen one more time before he turned his back, like a question lingered in the aether but wasn’t materializing. But as he was keen to continue his search for Merrit, he did also seem to take in Boryan’s stature again. And the same question on the edge of his mind, just refusing to come out with it.


Why do you look like that? Maybe. Or,

Why are we like this?



It was anyone’s guess what he might say to Boryan, but after a moment of silence, he finally used his stalling to create a bit of… consistency for a later action.


“Oh, forgive me. You can call me Reese. Afraid that’s all I know about myself just now, aside from my daughter.” He offered out, dropping that bomb. “I should have said my name sooner, but nerves and all that. I’d hate to be called by my experiment name. It’s too fantastical for me,” He snerked, one foot out the door, the other lingering just within the bounds of the kitchen.



"Would you.... Like a hand sweeping that rubbish up?"



In the Living Room

Cetus, en route to follow the scent of chlorine, heard female voices conversing nearby with a vague echo bouncing off the walls. A cavernous sound, though he quickly knew neither of them were Marina- he wasn’t sure how.


He’d actually exited out into the living room, but on the other side of the double doors before him, the pool room had two people in it already. “Sh*t f*ck sh*it.” He growled, shoving his hand under his arms as a chill overcame him. After his earlier outburst, and now with a full tummy, he was getting cold again and slipped his jacket back on. Even though he wasn’t going to interrupt Verity and Freyja, something kept him from wanting to be alone- so he stood beside the door and covered his ears so he couldn’t hear the girl’s conversation, but he wasn’t totally by himself.

Merchick owns the pool. He thought. She’ll turn up to appriause her territory, no doubt. Her lair. Why did she get a lair? Why don’t I have one? I can make Life-sized whales of pure energy… And why does the cat get a freakin’ kitchen? Ah, well. At least Jack doesn’t get anything either, unless there’s a pageant stage i’m not aware of. His inner dialog would continue until interrupted, somehow.
 

Dew by Caulden
Fever
Dreams
01
In the kitchen.
At the kitchen isle, with a full view of the kitchen.
Speaking to
REESE
No sooner had Boryan begun washing the dirty utensils at the sink when the sound of a plate crashing on the floor disturbed the tranquillity of the kitchen. Cetus had, from what the cat-man had seen, accidentally pushed it to its final destination, yet rather than address the issue, the two simply gave it a glance and each continued with their own business. Pieces of semi-translucent orange glass lay scattered among various small wrappers on the dark oak luxury vinyl floor where one of the L-shaped counters ended in front of the refrigerator. Although the urge to sweep them up was clawing its way up his chest, Boryan chose to ignore it for the time being and finish what he had started. The red-haired model had devoted all of his attention to the eggs-on-eyes, each bite helping him transform from a starved beast into a placated yet boisterous child, however, considering his previous outburst and despondent state, there was no telling how he would react if he saw a black cat carrying a broom. The comical aspect aside, there was a chance for the sight to be perceived as a threat, causing the fragile paper on which their peace treaty had been written to crumble to dust. Thus the unperturbed steward went about his work, washing one piece after the other and moving the clean ones into the dry section of the sink.

“This tastes like shit,” Cetus announced through snarling bites and loud swallowing.
"Mmm." Boryan hummed in response with a light nod. 'He's like a kitten growling while eating.'
“I hate pepper.” he grumbled out another complaint.
"I'll remember." the cook agreed. Salt and pepper were the quintessence of most recipes, but if someone absolutely couldn't tolerate it, he'd do his best not to offer something that contained one of them. After all, despite trying to maintain his fierce persona, Cetus had been listening and answered his request without much fuss, which was worth a reward.

'What to cook for our first group meal?' Boryan mused. 'I still don't know the majority's preferences and I can't risk someone having an allergic reaction. Something vegetarian with meat set to the side, maybe? Soup. A warm thick soup can make them feel at home or at least calm them, if they don't know what 'a home' is. I'll need potatoes, carrots, onions, rice, oil, eggs, and maybe some milk, too. The meat can be boiled separately. It'll take time to make a big pot of it, so I'll first make that omelette and some garlic bread for anyone wanting to ease their hunger.'

Just as the chef completed his cleaning duties, a satisfied sigh escaped from the maw of his first guest, who stretched his neck backwards and held his stomach with one hand. Full and content, Cetus had a rosy colour replace his ghostly pale complexion, yet as they say "A wolf changes his coat but not his nature." and his words did not betray him:

“I didn’t want it, but that troglodyte Jack might have smelled the gourmet bullshit you just did and got ahold of it.”
"I'd wonder. The doors look tight." Boryan said as he made his way to the opposite side of the kitchen isle, but these words likely went unnoticed.

Cetus seemed uninterested in conversing with the bipedal feline and started walking towards the double doors, only to soon find himself face to face with none other than Damocles. Boryan had caught the other man's appearance at the doorway at some point during the process of cooking the eggs-on-eyes, yet couldn't afford to stop and chat on the job. As to whether or not the dialogue would have been productive, he had his doubts, since the name-still-unknown had done everything in his power to speedily claim victory and retreat before the other could have a word in. Despite this, a part of him was glad he was in his presence, for one reason or another. That worrisome comment about "death" and "fortunate" still slightly bothered him at the back of his mind. Meanwhile, at the forefront, what was making him sigh on the inside was the fact that the two were about to go at it again. As Cetus approached and Reese persistently leaned against the doorway, blocking his way, Boryan found himself a chopping board and began dicing the onion, spinach and parsley, watching them engage on the other side of the room.

“You shouldn’t eat so fast. You’ll get a funny tummy.” Damocles told Cetus, arms folded and shoulder pressed into the doorway, blocking the threshold.
“Can’t you just disappear? You weren’t even gone for ten minutes.” Cetus replied, yet his voice was more exasperated than hostile, as if he were trying to bargain safe passage through the door.
To this, Damocles scoffed with a small smile. It was so quaint that it made Boryan stop chopping for a second.
“And miss out on watching Chef Meow cook?” he spoke softly. “No, no, I was going to leave, but then I smelled something that made me a bit peckish.”
'Then the omelette has an owner.' Boryan thought, eyes now on the onion after finishing the spinach.
“Peckish? That crap made you hungry?” Cetus jutted a thumb back. “It tasted like-. . .”

The abrupt halt in their unreserved red-head's accusation made the maker of said "crap" look up at them once again. Damocles had tilted his head sideways, his glasses reflecting the light that came from above, and was giving his opponent a most menacing look.
“. . . Go on, what did it taste like?” his words were like cold steel that cut through the pause that had formed and were followed by silence without a single blink or twitch.
'You just won't stop bullying the kid, huh. I just got him to settle down, too.' Boryan thought as he looked on, maintaining the chopping of the vegetables. 'With a technique like that, you're probably also not 'clean'. Question now is if your record is as filthy as mine.'
For a couple of seconds more the quietness continued. Cetus was visibly starting to yield, while Damocles was comfortable with their wordless stagnation and, after waiting awhile more, let him off.
“Run along then, if you’re done.” he said.
As if to obey a command, Cetus made haste and used his long legs to carefully step around Damocles, who even gave him a bit more wiggle room.

Mary Poppins and Catatuoille, as the one who was no longer present had labelled them, were the only ones left in the kitchen.

Given how eager Damocles had been to avoid him before, Boryan presumed he would leave as well, so he made his way towards the refrigerator. Contrary to his expectations, the other man unfolded his arms, snaked his hands down to his pockets like a youngster and followed the line of chairs by the L-shaped counter to the periphery. Trailing his line of sight, the objects of his interest were the shards of the glass plate which Boryan attempted to avoid by brushing the closest ones away with his tail.

“Unfortunate, that.” Damocles spoke first.
Boryan had just opened the fridge and tapped two eggs. He turned his head in order to look at the person while speaking, however, Damocles had spun around and was walking towards the double door.
'Again. Should have expected it.' the cat-man thought whilst closing the door, the eggs floating above him.

This 180-cm-tall touch-me-not glanced around the kitchen as he headed for the exit, his icy blue eyes lingering on the feline, which uttered not a single sentence. In accordance with his initial assessment of this man, Boryan decided that the best course of action was to allow him to approach first and choose their distance. This was only their first day and, although he had done what he could to convey his goodwill in the dining room and was currently cooking for the group, it would be unwise to not have your guard up, especially when the person in question was a non-human who was all too willing to comply with the roles the Seekers had assigned. He himself was taking mental notes on everyone, but the connections he drew and the conclusions he reached would ultimately just be something to occupy his mind. Even if they wanted to hurt him, even if Damocles tried to shoot him now, as he turned his back to him to put a new pan on the hotplate and finish the omelette, the scientists wouldn't allow it. In the end, they were simply some people that he had to cater to, as was the purpose of The Help project. Now that was, unlike the broken plate, something Boryan thought could be called unfortunate.

“Oh, forgive me. You can call me Reese." the man spoke again. The two of them were facing away from each other - one working at the stove and one at the exit.
'Finally remembered you had a name, huh.' Boryan thought as he prodded the almost complete omelette with a spatula.
"Afraid that’s all I know about myself just now, aside from my daughter.”
'A daughter?' his whiskers twitched and eyes widened a little bit. 'Have I . . .'
“I should have said my name sooner, but nerves and all that."
The omelette was done, so Boryan moved the pan to a cold ring and made a slight left turn in place, so that he could see Reese.
"I’d hate to be called by my experiment name. It’s too fantastical for me.” Reese snarked. One foot out the door and the other lingering just within the bounds of the kitchen, he too turned his body so that he could face him. "Would you.... Like a hand sweeping that rubbish up?"
". . . I would. Thanks." Boryan replied, his voice deep and calm. He turned off the heat and took the path between the L-shaped counter and the kitchen isle, a couple of dirty bowls and utensils floating around him. "I saw a bin in the base cabinet between the fridge and the oven. There's a small broom and dustpan inside it as well." he floated the items inside the sink. "You can just call me Boryan. It's my real name." he went between the two L-shaped counters and turned right, in order to reach the white tall cabinet with glass doors where the dishes and bowls were stored. "As you probably saw, I'm barefoot, so it would've been troublesome to deal with that glass." he picked out an identical plate and a deep bowl and started heading back to the kitchen isle. "Once you're done, have the omelette, if you want. It's got spinach, curd, onion and parsley in it." he offered, setting the plate exactly where he put it for Cetus. Fortunately, since he was between the L-shaped counter and the kitchen isle, there were no shards on the floor where he walked. By now the meal had cooled down, so Boryan took the pan and spatula from the stove and carefully delivered the omelette into the plate before turning around to put them in the sink with the rest of the dirty cookware. "As for not remembering anything other than your name and daughter, no need to stress over it." he said. From one of the drawers he tapped a fork and then floated it over to the plate. "If you're meant to remember, you will. And if not, maybe it's for everyone's best. These things can't be forced." Like a river flowing seamlessly whilst simultaneously appearing still, there was no halt in his movements. He set the bowl down on the isle side opposite the sink. Inside it he put plenty of butter, which at this point had softened, the leftover chopped parsley and began chopping some garlic, which he would also add and mix together with a silicone spatula. "I have all of my memories and, believe me, the world outside isn't as peaceful as it used to be. That red-haired boy is a tame pup in comparison. Maybe you really are 'fortunate' to not remember a thing." With the paste now ready, all he needed was some cheese and the bread. His chopping board in front of him, Boryan looked at Reese and asked. "Mind getting me the bread from the box over there, Reese? I'd rather not touch it without any gloves."
Code by Nano
 


















  • mood



    Tranquil



    location



    Pool



    outfit



    White Suit



    mentions



    Verity



    tags



    (Abyss)















    Freyja relaxed when the other woman didn't tell her to leave, rocking back on her heels as she contemplated if joining the woman would be over-stepping a boundary. When the woman continued speaking Freyja took that as an invitation. Slipping off her shoes and socks, Freyja leaned down to roll her pants legs up past her knees before taking a seat at the pools edge and dipping her legs into the water, though she made sure to keep her distance from the woman; Freyja always seemed to emanate a chill, especially when Ciel was around and she didn't want the poor woman to be subjected to it.

    "I'm afraid I don't know what you're apologizing for. I left the room fairly early, so I think I missed whatever it is you're referring to." She replied, tilting her head as she blinked at the other woman, "But regardless, I don't startle very easily, so I most likely would have been fine."

    She swished her legs gently through the water, a small smile quirking her lips as she watched Ciel twist and dive through the water even though his form simply phased right through it. She shrugs her thin shoulders as Verity continues to speak. "I don't remember anything of my life from before I was taken, so this life is all that I have known." she replied, "Though I did not imagine I would suddenly be living with others that the facility has experimented on. I wonder what the Seekers end goal is." She mused out-loud. "I don't know, but if it involves the Seekers then it can't be anything good." Ciel grumbled as he rose from the pool, Freyja tilting her head back slightly as he floated above her head.









    nine lives


 
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Reese wasn’t expecting that voice to come out of that cat. He’d heard Boryan speak of course, only a few minutes ago, but up close like this it really did hold a booming presence.

Reese’ voice was also quite deep, but it lacked any real weight to it. When he spoke, “...Boryan.” to repeat, his tone was almost breathless, weak, tired. Permanently hoarse. But he nodded his head with a vaguely fond look on his face and went to carefully open the lower cabinet. His movements were a little stiff, still trying to recover from the earlier sedation. He let out a small grunt as he retrieved the dustpan and broom.


"As you probably saw, I'm barefoot, so it would've been troublesome to deal with that glass."

“I imagine so.” Reese replied with no real gap between their words. “Do you wear shoes? hm. you don’t need to answer that.” he struggled at first to get the broom to guide the broken chunks into the pan. He waved Boryan on as if to say ‘go on’ if he wanted to speak more. Thankfully, he did. Reese was only good at conversation if someone else was willing to participate. That WAS how conversations worked.


When Boryan offered the omelette, Reese paused to take a breather from sweeping. Just a few minutes in, and he was already winded…. He observed the plate, shoulders rising and falling as he forced air into his lungs. Even someone without large cat ears could hear the residual wheeze of his chest as he hunched over the dustpan for a moment.


"As for not remembering anything other than your name and daughter, no need to stress over it."


The feline's understanding was, once again, a flawless display of the humanity within. His eyes, while still large amber jewels poised to spot prey, they still held much of the man within him. Reese shifted over the last bit of debris, shoveling it into the dustpan before straightening his back. Seeing Boryan move with the grace of a ballerina, the dark haired man couldn’t help but steal glances as they moved around each other, cleaning up the space in tandem like it were always this way. Somehow Reese didn’t notice- the way they passed each other, his shoes crunching the last bit of shards and dust.


He wondered, when Boryan spoke of the world outside not being peaceful, why the Cat seemed to have all his memories while nearly everyone else had missing pieces, or none at all. If they did, wouldn’t the entire table have been exchanging them? Comparing them? Knowing Boryan knew what the outside world was like made his eyes lock on to him, only to soften at how Boryan quoted him from earlier. It was only when Boryan asked him to retrieve the bread that Reese snapped out of his brief trance and gave him a dip of his head in response. “Of course,” he muttered, lifting back the small knob on the bread box. Handing the loaf to Boryan, he then leaned one hand on the counter and took his moment to rest.


“Well, since you seem to know so much,” He began, putting up one hand to show he meant no disrespect there. “Do you know why they made you like this? I’ve been here a long time, but time is hard to judge without windows or clocks. Anytime I’ve been given a hint at how long it’s been, I'm never sure if it’s true. Between experiments, tests, whatever mind games they play, I’ve just accepted how things are.” He eyed Boryan then, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “It seems you have too. Or do you actually like working for them?” He asked, genuinely curious. Though he couldn’t deny, a strange part of him just wanted Boryan to reply to him somehow, and spare him another glance. The need for it made him rub his temple.


This isn’t right at all… Whatever the people in this facility want, it can’t be sane or healthy.


He thought, eyes half lidded. He needed a nap after the simple act of cleaning the kitchen. “I thought maybe you were a cat they gave intelligence to. Like the… Ninja Turtles.” He cleared his throat, glancing at Bo as he watched him place the dirty dishes into the sink using an invisible force. “But it seems it’s the opposite. I thought this place just made people like me into monsters, I didn’t know they took kind people like you and changed your entire form. I thought this place held criminals and used them as expendable guinea pigs. But you’re nice to us and seem concerned with our health. If you weren’t born here, then… Why do you do what they want you to do?”


He looked Boryan in the eyes, one set of yellow moons against two blue moons. "Rather, why are you able to do it without concern? How long have they kept you here?"
 





Verity


Meer

]













Verity didn’t know what kind of life Freyja had before she was taken by the Seekers, but to lose any connection at all to your past seemed a terrible thing. She’d only managed to keep bits and pieces for herself, but what little remained had kept her going. “I’m sorry,” she said. It didn’t feel quite like enough.


“I get glimpses sometimes. Of things from before.” Verity closed her eyes, felt the pool room fade into the distance. The sound of water splashing against tiles turning into waves rolling gently onto the rocky shore. “My family. The forests we played in. I think we had a horse.” Verity cradled her hands to her chest, like her memories were something physical to be held close. She was silent for a moment. She hesitated and then continued to speak. Her voice was lower this time, hushed. “The Seekers tried to reset me. But the memories come back eventually.” She turned her gaze back towards Freyja, more resolute. “Maybe one day they will come back to you, like they do for me.”


“Now, the Seekers…”
Verity folded her hands on her lap, her eyes turning distant as she contemplated the question. So much time spent trapped in a test-tube. She’d longed for company during that time. Had wanted someone to know what had happened to Verity Meer. Now here was someone and the opportunity to share everything. Project Mimic. Leviathan. Malcolm. She could stand up at any moment and scream about it all till her voice gave out if she wanted. But the clever part of her brain, the same one that in another life kept her finger from pulling the trigger before her target was fully in her sights, held the leash on the impulse to divulge all her secrets. Just because you're starving, doesn’t mean you can make a meal out of anything. Someone told her that, she’s not sure who. “They kept me far away. I never had access to information.” Lying doesn’t sit well with her, but then maybe survival was meant to be uncomfortable. She’d have to live up to her name another day. “Did you?”


The shuffle of feet or the slide of automatic doors, Verity’s not sure what alerted her to the new arrival, but a small burst of adrenaline snaps her to attention and she turns quickly just before a pink-haired woman in a swimsuit enters the pool room. She feels a fresh wave of shame at her sudden appearance. Marina had been present for her outburst and already she can feel some of the anxiety returning. However, if Marina remembers, she doesn’t make a point of it. She breezes by them both, acknowledging them politely in passing. The interruption is also a good reminder that sharing information is dangerous. You never know who might be listening. However, for all intents and purposes, Marina seemed unconcerned about their conversation—Verity doesn’t have long to wonder what she means by ‘drying out’ before it’s made abundantly clear. Marina is a mermaid. Once in the pool her legs merge into a red tail like a fish. Verity has never seen another person transform themselves before, and she wonders if that’s how her own transformation appears from an outsider’s perspective. It’s not as horrifying as she’d pictured it.

Verity looks curiously at Freyja, trying to gauge her reaction. The white hair and red eyes are unusual features. There’s nothing else she can see that gives anything about her abilities away. Weighing the risks, she decides to ask. “What happened to you?"





Dining Room | Reminiscent | Music | interactions Freyja, Marina (Mentioned) SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles



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The Syphon



Rorie.













mood

Cautious, Excited











Outfit

White Jumpsuit











location

Banquet Hall > Hallway > Rorie's Room











interactions











tags

tags here


















Rorie stands there after she’s done thanking the odd floral man. With the plant now wilted and turned to dust, she finds the silence slowly encroaching upon her. That is, until she hears something near her. The sound of light scratching catches her attention. Her mossy gaze flickers down to Marina’s wrist, finding the pale skin irritated and inflamed around patches of dry scaling. A bewildered look crosses the woman’s face. Was Marina a fish person? Or maybe a snake?

Drying out? So maybe she is a fish?’ The woman thought to herself with a furrowing brow. That made sense, right? Being out of water could irritate such a person, especially if they’re dehydrated.

Being stuck in her secluded room most of her days, she had little outside contact with anyone or anything other than the Seekers and scientists assigned to her case. So, seeing this confused her immensely.

Nonetheless, Rorie gives a small but kind wave to the pink-haired woman. She watches her go and stares off in her direction for a few moments longer. Then, with a deep breath, she musters up the courage to go exploring on her own. She gives those around her a wave and an unnerved smile before following down the same hallway Marina had.

What an odd bunch of people. Good people, of course, but odd.’ She thought to herself. Her attention turns fully to what is laid out in front of her.

The hallway stretches out before her with a multitude of doors. She rattles off the names of each room name as she passes them.

“Kitchen.”

“Activities.”

“Hmm...living room area?” Rorie mumbles and peers in for a moment before continuing down the hall and hooking a right turn. There, she finds the dorms sprawled out in another long corridor. She wanders down, glancing at each nameplate. Some she recognized as people she’d seen in the banquet hall, others were unfamiliar to her. She makes note of the ones she doesn’t and mentally notes, hoping to introduce herself.

Just a little over halfway down, she stops when she finds her own name, carved into a metal nameplate next to a door. Her gaze washes over the door. Delicate features melt into one of caution as she looks for a knob. She jumps back, startled by a sudden projection of light that scans over her. There’s a ding and a flash of green, then the door opens with a mechanical click.

As it’s opened, Rorie freezes in place at the sight of the room. Her jaw drops.

It’s not a simple white room with the basic necessities; the typical bed, desk, and dresser combo. No, this room is neatly decorated with a variety of eclectic wall hangings, ranging from a boho style to cottagecore. A plethora of plants hang from the ceiling, while others rest in pots on the floor. In the center of it all is a neatly made bed with a geometric patterned set of blankets and pillows.

For once, an unfamiliar emotion began bubbling within Rorie. Was this nervousness? Excitement? She didn’t know exactly, but it made her feel more weightless than she’s felt in years.

The corners of her mouth turned upwards into a bright smile. A rare sight for the dark-haired woman. She steps inside to explore more. It doesn’t take her long to start thumbing through the diverse plants and flora. At least now, she wouldn’t have to worry about food sources! This gave her some sense of semblance.













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The Wailing Wind



Gael.













mood

Surprised











Outfit

White Jumpsuit











location

Banquet Hall











interactions











tags

tags here

















Gael’s golden gaze washes over the smaller man’s features. The rosiness that flushed Cassiel’s face was easily spotted against the paler complexion. A warmth of his own spread across the light-haired male’s features. The feeling spread from his face into his chest, creating a fuzzy feeling, one that he definitely wasn’t familiar with. A tad surprised by this feeling, Gael inhales sharply and snaps eye contact to glance about. A flustered look appears on his face.

“I haven’t spoken to many people, other than the Seekers. Maybe a few scientists. My division is of the, ugh,” he rubs his neck, “solitary kind. For others’ safety, of course.”

The telepathic voice quiets down, and Gael’s thoughts begin to race. Why did he say that? Would Cassiel start thinking him dangerous? Surely not. He posed no threat, especially with his collar on. Oh. The collar.

A somber expression replaces the flustered one he’d worn prior. His free hand lifts, the pads of his fingertips brushing over the metal around his neck. It’s cold to the touch, and very uncomfortable. The structure wasn’t simply resting around his neck. There are black wires going from it and embedding itself into his skin, connecting it to him directly. He doesn’t seem like he’s in pain, but it does seem quite confining.

Gael’s features soften once more, the somberness washing away. A smile appears on his lips and he gives Cassiel’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“Sure! It’ll be fun, I’m sure.” He replies happily. Gael was more than happy to accompany Cass, and that was pretty obvious. His smile reached his eyes easily!

“Where to first? I heard a few others discussing rooms, and a kitchen.” At the mention of food, a loud grumble sounds from his stomach. He chuckles sheepishly. “‘It’s been a bit since I’ve eaten.”



The Wailing Wind.


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