Azalea stood in the corner of the cell in which she was kept when she wasn’t inside the lab being poked at and observed. She puzzled the scientists, mostly just because of the incredible strength and mastery she had for her craft. Even through the Adam serum asnd gas she could some times catch glimpses of thoughts and images from others and that unnerved the Curio scientists greatly. It brought her great joy to see them so perplexed however; it did not bring her joy to be under a microscope all the time. She wasn’t exactly a willing subject either and often times needed to be sedated for them to get anything done without her flailing unsuccessfully attempting to get away.

One of her index finger was pointed as she “drew” pictures in the air humming softly; it was clear that whatever image she was painting she could see clearly though there was nothing but air before her. A result of her growing insanity, and being restricted from using the powers that fueled her to stay strong. Without her ability to siphon emotions her own grew unbalanced and being in this predicament for so long she knew that her time was limited. While her fits of insanity came and went, and she could usually break herself out of them she knew it was only a matter of time before it overtook her completely. …How long has it been? She wondered but was quickly distracted by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. She recognized the distinct sound on the soldiers gear and boots on he floor; a sound that made her cringe.

She retreated pushing herself up against the wall as they came into view leading a young man down the hall; she didn’t recognize him, though that wasn’t uncommon in such a large building. One soldier stopped to sneer at her in which she matched with a glare so intense that it was eerie. It was clear she was attempting to do something more than just glare in his direction but with the Adam gas in the air there was no way for her to impact him the way she wanted to.

The soldier laughed as if her attempts amused him. “Quit trying, Hag…I can’t wait to put this one out of it’s misery. I mean look at it.” She could hear the words, and they angered her but she’d been victim to much harsher before. This soldier was actually being kind with his choice of words in comparison to previous slurs. When the soldier then kicked the bars of the cell she jumped a bit at the noise which only ignited the man’s laugher.

She looked down at the stone ground not liking ridicule; to be made a mockery of day after day was starting to not only irritate her but make her feel belittled. Once a confident and powerful woman, and a leader of sorts, now subjected to laughter and cruelty. It was unjust but it was life and this is the life she knew now…It seemed there was no way out.

Her head rose up to watch them continued to walk away just happy that their attention was focused elsewhere right now and that she wasn’t be dragged into a laboratory. She suddenly wished she remembered the night she’d arrived here, she could remember bits and pieces but not even enough to know where the exit was. Her thoughts were too scattered and I disarray to organize them and clear her mind to think straight. It was incredibly frustrating and she found herself letting out a soft groan as she slid down against the wall placing her head in her hands.

Claus Sat in his office going over a stack of paper, the most recent reports from the experiments at the facility. He took a deep breath before slowly exhaling."This is no good at all." The psychologists reported that the anomaly in the Adam serum seemed to be having mental issues, The scientists could not find a cause for it and the subject had been reluctant to say what was happening. Of course. The interrogations were needed for most of them, but forcing somebody to speak was the best way. Once they were broken they would talk. His facility was far more humane about the way it went about it than many others, No pointless torcher of those incarcerated, and more of a psychological attack against them than a physical one.

He paged one of the STAALK soldiers in to his office. "Please bring Subject 46735129 into the lab." He told him when he arrived before looking back down at the sheet in his hands. Azalea D’aubigne, estimated 26 years old with an unknown nationality. Well that wasn't much to work with, especially with how she had been treated at the facility she had been transferred from. He took another deep breath as he placed all the papers back in their appropriate boxes picking up his PDA as he made his way toward the Lab. She was one of the first subjects captured and had not responded well to the conditions she had been under at the military run compound. It was why this one existed. So that they could find alternate methods of convincing the Lore-kind to speak.

Reaching the lab he set up the table there moving the back to an angle that would be comfortable. He would have one soldier standing by, that should be more than enough to contain her her profile had shown that while capable at combat she was not terribly skilled, and certainly no match for a soldier. He layed out the needles, in an orderly fashion, each containing the next compound scheduled to test on her as well as the mask. He had set the gold collar that she was brought in with in a visible place so that she would not forget the order of things there. He did not like the genocide that was taking place, but it was inevitable. one side would be destroyed, but at least they could go about it in a humane manner.

He then laid out a set of papers on a nearby table, each had the same thing on it. Her name, place of birth, age, basic personal information followed by the results of the tests thus far. He waited patiently for her to be brought in, mulling over how exactly he was going to approach the likely uncooperative subject.

Azalea could hear the soldiers speaking to the young man they’d been leading through the holding cells; her gaze narrowed as she tried to comprehend what they were saying but she knew better then to watch through the bars incase they caught her doing so. She could hear their laughter and then a feral growl that could be mistaken for none other than that of a lycanthrope, or at least she predicted. Though her predictions were often times truthful and she relied strongly on her intuition to get her through her long, seemingly endless life. Hey, at least if your in here you’ll finally get it over with and die. She thought to herself cynically, though death wasn’t what she wanted not like this anyways. She wanted to die with some dignity and this was by no means dignified.

There was a scuffling in front of the cell next to hers and she tried to watch in her peripheral vision but did not prevail. Here was a thud of a rifle hitting the captive and then another loud thud as he hit the ground. She winced a bit at the thought of it but no other expression was shown from her as she sat there in a ball against the stone wall. She heard the soldiers laughter getting farther away, along with their footsteps making sure that it was only a muffled noise before looking over to the cell beside her at the man laying unconscious. That in itself was a dangerous position of vulnerability in a place like such.

“Psst…” She tried quietly though he was still out and lying on the floor. She rolled her eyes before glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot. “Kid, you better wake the hell up or they’ll take advantage of you being out cold…It’s easier when they don’t gotta’ sedate you.” The woman’s thick French accent lingered in the air but he wasn’t waking up. It’s not your problem, don’t make it your problem. She thought to herself but that tiny ounce of compassion amongst the chaos of her mind was still existent. She shuffled to the side of her cell sticking a hand into his, just reaching him and shaking him violently.

“Wake up, god damn it.” She half snarled, as her eyes jittered from side to side searching the premises to make sure they weren’t being watched. For simply helping him she’d be punished and that was something she didn’t quite look forward to. She remembered her first day here all to well…It had been hell, almost literally. They had wasted no time and had her hooked up to all sorts of different experimental equipment leaving her cut, bruised, groggy and mentally exhausted. If he didn’t wake up now before a soldier passed by and saw him out he’d be dragged off to a lab while they had the chance of taking him without a fight.

She heard footsteps and immediately straightened up against the wall with a stoic expression as a soldier approached her cell. Her breath caught in her throat as his words cut through her like a knife.

"You. Get up right now" He's said. "Start walking toward the labs, hag."

Her teeth ground together as the feeling of dread settled over her she was immediately to her feet and pressed against the wall, her stance was strong but her body was weak. Her power was drained from her with each day she spent here and there wasn't much fight left in her. Much being the key word, and that didn't mean there was none left. She lifted her chin and gave a small "hmph" knowing all to well the consequences this small sign of resistance would bring her but their beatings couldn't break her, no not physically at least. Mentally she was suffering. The soldier approached her and she pulled away only to be slammed against the wall violently, in which she fought a helpless battle against the much larger S.T.A.A.L.K soldier...One she wasn't going to win, as she flailed and clawed grunting with exertion. She was finally knocked nearly unconscious as her head slammed against the wall yet again. Hanging on her last moment of consciousness she had enough time to spit the words.

"You bastard." It was muffled but harsh and cutting. After she went limp with unconsciousness the soldier dragged her by her wrists out of the holding cell and towards the Lab.

It was dark where Feeorin was, unnaturally dark. There was a twig and some leaves that had been put there too. She recognized them as being real, but the rest of the little universe wasn't. The sky around her was black without any stars or moon. The only light came from her bioluminecent, blue skin. She fluttered lightly and touched her toes to the cool fround bellow. She could see her reflection in the sky, as though she were looking at herself in dark, blue water. But there were no ripples, as there would be in a lake or puddle. Just a blurry image of herself in black an blue hues.

She felt her body, checking her face, breast, swollen belly. That was what she was most concerned with, but the litle thing inside her seemed to be moving as it always had. It filled her with great reliefe, even making her swoon a little, to know that it was alright. Feeorin curled into a small ball with her translucent wings covering the two halves of her back and stopping just before her lower half.

----------------------
"Claus! Claus!" Bagne called, rushing with what looked like a covered birdcage in his hand. He came through of office door into the lab and set the container down on the desk before him. It was only then that he saw the papers splayed on the table. "Ah, I can see that you're busy now, but I really must show you this as soon as possible. It's the most exaordinary find I've ever made." It was clear from the expression on Bagne face taht whatever it was had truely excited him, and that never boded well for lorekind.

"clause looked up from his clipboard at the enthusiastic young man carrying a covered birdcage, well at least that is what it looked like, maybe he had a sprite or something in it. He was about to go back to finishing reviewing the file when he claimed it may have been his most extraordinary find ever. He though about it for a second or so feigning continuing to look at his clipboard as he attempted to recall what the scientists name was. There were so many of them here. "Alright you have 5 minutes."*He knew the time was unreasonable for the man to explain whatever it was that he had found, but that time would tell him if it was worth the extra attention of if the scientist was prematurely exited.

He looked over to Fong. "When they bring the subject in tell them to make sure she is seated on table 2. I will be back shortly." *he motioned for Bagne to follow him as he walked into his office. It was going to be one of those days. He walked around the desk, turning the pencil sharpener one way, and then seemingly back on his immaculately ordered desk as he sat down in the chair there. "Please have a seat." *he steepled his fingers as he starred across the desk awaiting the news.*

The blunt end of the blade struck the helmet of the S.T.A.A.L.K soldier sending him reeling through a wall. He fell unconscious but he wasn't dead. Each that advanced was placed in a similar state though some where still conscious just sore.

He was thrashing them about like rag dolls, one flew this way and another flew that way. They lay there squirming in pain awaiting death but death did not come. Then, just as the man was about to leave, more soldiers appeared and wanted to take over from where the beaten soldiers left off. The man smirked, "I don't have time for this," He reached for his hair which secretly held two flowers, a rose and a tulip but something jolted through him just as his hand reached back.

Apparently they knew. When the platinum touched his skin, it send a wave of nausea throughout his body. He fell to his knees and felt of his neck. A collar made of platinum was latched onto his neck and the one who had placed it there simply smirked and watched as Terrance swayed. Everything was getting dizzy but he refocused and locked his eyes on the key the S.T.A.A.L.K soldier dangled in front of him.

"You want this? Come and get it," He said mockingly. Terrance had to get this platinum off his neck, he figured it took them a lot to make this collar and he figured they only brung one as it would have been far too expensive even for them to make several, if at all two. He lunged for the key but the soldier intercepted and kicked him in the chest. Terrance was knocked into the side wall of the alley. Terrance looked up and saw the butt of a gun close in.

When he awoke, he found himself in the arms of the S.T.A.A.L.K dragging him into the Nullification Compound #22. As he passed the various cells, he could see that the S.T.A.A.L.K had been busy in these last couple of days. When they arrived at his cell, next to someone who lay unconscious, they threw him in and took off the platinum collar. Terrance glared at the men and smirked, "by the way Terrance, if you so much as try to escape, we won't hesitate to end you," one of the lead S.T.A.A.L.K soldiers told him as the turned around, left the cell and locked it.

Terrance was trapped, his weapons had been taken. He had only one spell book and it was hidden, but he wondered if they checked his hair. When he reached back and ran a soft hand through his hair, he pulled out the Tulip and Rose. He smirked, "perfect," He said as he heard footsteps and quickly placed them back into the depth of his hair.

He sat on the so called bed and layed down. It would take him a while, but he knew that eventually, he would get out, whether with the help of the captive or by his lonesome he didn't care, he was going to escape this place and burn it to the ground. He had noticed the door they had taken his weaponry and books, and knew it would be like hell retrieving them. At this point and time, he would have to wait and see how things unfolded in this place.

Simon Bagne rolled his eyes slightly when Clause told him he had five minutes; it wasn't so much the time as the condecending air in which he spoke. He'd often thought that the older gentleman was a little too big for himself. Reguardless, Bagne knew there wasn't much time and sat the carrier on the table. "I have to turn out the lights." He told him smoothly, reaching up and flicking the switch without permission.

The room was dark momentarily, until Simon lifted the shroud from the carrier. A tiny shriek could be heard, and one could see, if they looked closely, a tiny blue woman cowering in something like a tetal position in the glass case. There were holes at the top to allow air to come through, but after the scream, there seemed to be nothing comming in or out.

"An Asrai, already very rare. But this one is with child." Dr. Bagne explained, quelshing the excitement in hsi voice with scientific pride. "I only wish I'd gotten a look at the father, probably a simple forset sprite. But this specimine is fantastic. I can study the justation period and see, possibly, why they only produce other females."


______________________________________________________

In the chill of the floor, Feeorin was rather numb to what was happeining around her. She knew that the world had shifted a little and was again set down. Then, suddenly the darkness was lifted, only to reveal a more naturalistic shade of dark. She could see figures about her, and let out a scream at being so close to one of them. The little woman clutched at her stomach, as though she could hold her baby out of harms way.

What did these things want? Was it to kill her, eat her, eat her baby? What would become of her? These were questions she knew only the elders could answer now; and since there were none to be found, she would have to make due with the fate she was given.

Azalea hadn’t awoken through being dragged, or through being restrained on the table. It was something she’d grown quite used to but still didn’t take lightly; she was much to determined and stubborn to give in to any one willingly. She slowly started to come awake to a burning sensation around her throat; it made her cough and she immediately tried bringing her hands to where she was injected but couldn’t due to the restraints. She let out a fierce groan as she fought against the restriction of the metal cuffs. She attempted to wiggle her way out twisting her body and wincing at the fact it only brought her more agony.

Finally she lay still, tears collecting in her eyes caused by the burning sensation around her neck; She tried swallowing but even that was hard when her throat was numb with pain. She wouldn’t let the tears flow down her cheeks for that was something she’d never give them the pleasure of seeing. Instead she blinked them back and waited for whatever torture was to come, as always it was a guarantee. Her eyes focused up on the ceiling as she controlled her breathing to a steady pace just trying not to let panic consume her, which even after all her time here was a hard thing to do. It seemed their means of torturing and experimenting grew worse with each encounter she had with these scientists and soldiers…She wished that for one minute she was returned to her full strength without the hindering of the Adam gas…She would cause them ultimate devastation internally. Each and every one of them would be tortured more mentally than she ever had physically. If only she could have her way.

Takeda Ieyasu was meditating. He was hardly breathing. Although he did not need to breathe, being undead, the rising and falling of his chest and the feeling of the albeit useless air filling his lungs was calming. It also helped the process. He had stopped counting the days. His imprisonment since the rebellions and his capture in Japan seemed a world away. All he had known, the cities, the fields and hills, all had been replaced by this cell of cold metal and artifical light. His Katana, his most prized possesions, had been stripped and taken from him. As had his armor. He was disgraced.

Takeda pushed these thoughts from his mind and concentrated on nothing. He let his senses fade until he was surrounded by blackness. He took a great intake of breath and then exhaled, slowly. As he exhaled his mind painted a picture before him. It was one of serene calm and tranquility. A garden, walled and with a single, solitary tree in the middle. A koi pond not far off. It stood atop a small mound of earth. He could smell the cherry blossom. Sitting beneath this tree he gazed into the pond. Three carp swam inorexiably slowly, turning and gliding over and around eachother. He turned his head to look up at the tree. At the tip of the tallest branch a piece of cloth hung. Upon it was written something, but he had never read it. Never reached it. Takauji Sensei had once told him that, when he could reach out and take the cloth without standing, and read the written words upon it, he would be perfectly at peace. This had always been Tadeka's goal. Even more so now that he was trapped in this prison of steel. He knew in his mind that something was coming. But he did not know when, or what form this something would take.

For now, he would remain as peaceful as he could, preparing himself for what was to come. He looked back down from the tree and stared straight ahead. The garden seemed to disolve before him, and in its place was the butt of a rifle. It cracked into his forhead.
"Stand the fuck up and answer me when I talk to you! Do you fucking get me?"
Takeda's head snapped back under the force of the blow. It did not exactly hurt. He felt pain, but not in the same sense that a living man would. It still hurt, none-the-less. Takeda got to his feet.
"Get the fuck back against the wall!"
Takeda did so.
"Good boy... Nice to see a zombie-fuck like you doing as it's told. I'm going to take you for a little walk 'Zombie'... I don't think you'll like it."
Zombie. That was the soldiers' name for him. It angered him. He was a walking dead, yes. But not a zombie. No, not one of those abominations. He was a servant of the Kami. He would live until they saw fit to release him of his duty to them, his duty to Japan.
"Hai. You go. I will follow."
Again the rifle-butt, this time to the back of his right knee-cap. Again the 'pain'.
"Don't you go giving me any fuckin' orders zombie! You go first eh? Don't want you jumping me from behind now do I? Get goin' then!"
"Hai."

Cowtowing to these men. This was the epitome of dishonor. When the time came, he would enjoy ending their pitiful existances. No... not pitiful. They served their masters, as he had served Takauji Sensei. Takauji Shogun! He would meet them with honor, and he would kill them with honor. As these thoughts crossed his mind he realised where he was being taken. The lab. They were planning to 'extract' information from him again. He never said much. Only his name, where he was born and what his 'profession' had been when he was still a living man. More likely they wanted to poke him with knives and try and work out what made him tick. For all intensive purposes his body remained functional. Only he didn't die in the conventional ways. Takeda assumed they simply wanted to find out more about him. In any event he did not know what they would do. He kept walking, looking straight ahead, preparing his mind for the events that were to come. Whatever they were to be.

Alone, he felt alone and felt as if the silence was somewhat overbearing. He sat on the bed and pondered different scenarios of escaping until he was fatigue from thinking. This gas, this Adam Gas, was hindering him in some way and he hated being hindered, in fact he loathed not being free.

As he sat there in deep thought, he took in his surroundings and sighed. "I'm either going to die here or die escaping," He said softly under his breath as he crossed his legs and smirked, "who am I kidding, I'm sure I can get out of here, just let me assess the situation."

He looked around once more and began assessing the damage so far. He concluded that he was indeed in a prison cell, others where around him and he could somewhat feel that they where not normal humans, which made him more comfortable as he was sure they would want to escape as well. He determined that the guards where set in specific locations and where always armed some way or the other. He then concluded that he had the element of surprise on his side as none of the guards, hell no one in the facility knew that he had a concealed weapon.

He smiled, "I'll need time though, time to assess more information and workout more scenarios before I attempt anything," He said to himself. He was so far in thought about escaping that when the man in the cell next to him spoke, it made him jump a bit out of excitement. He had thought the man dead, but now that he was alive he had someone to talk to.

"Hey! You, What happened to the person that was in that cell?" the man asked looking at Terrance.

Terrance shrugged, "I have no clue, I just got here myself," Terrance replied returning the man's gaze, "if you don't mind me asking, what are you?" He tried to make it sound more pleasant than it had actually come out as, but he waited for the man's response nonetheless.

Azalea’s eyes shot to the side where a man was standing over her; he was speaking but she was still dazed from the blow she’d taken to her head. Her eyes immediately narrowed into an icy glare so intense that for a moment, despite her vulnerability, she looked as lethal as she really was in full health and power. His chattering continued though she wasn’t listening to him. She wouldn’t listen. She was never one to abide by what they told her to do and even less likely to reveal anything about herself for them to analyze. In all honesty she didn’t even know exactly what made her the way she was…Some may have thought her to be cursed for the existence she maintained. For she could not exist without siphoning emotions and youth from others, and sometimes even driving them mad if she took too much from them. The mind of a human was such a fragile, and easily manipulated organ; she knew all of it’s weaknesses and all of it’s strengths. She was hungry for the thoughts, and feelings of just one of these horrid people working at the Nullification Compound…If only she could get inside their heads through the Adam Gas.

While she was capable of her own emotions, feelings and thoughts without others she slowly lost sight of her own mental stability. She would slowly waste away like a withering plant. They didn’t know this however, and she wasn’t about to let them in on this little secret…If she was going to die she’d rather die naturally then by their hands and each day drew her closer to death. With her powers she could maintain herself as an immortal but without them her age would catch up to her. She then saw the tube in his hand and immediately clenched her jaw shut turning her head away from him and removing the hateful glare from his direction. She spoke not a word and yet her body language said everything. She wasn’t giving in and didn’t care if it cost her more pain than necessary. She was no coward to physical pain; she never had been.

She fought against the metal cuffs once more wiggling and trying to push herself up. It wasn't successful and the attempt just left her tired and breathing heavily through her nose. She kept her mouth shut tight as the tears surfaced to her eyes once more in the frustration of her own vulnerability and helplessness. She hated being laid out like this for them to experiment on and force into submission; it was humiliating and degrading and she was growing exhausted by the constant fight.

Azalea’s fingers gripped the metal of the table tightly knowing all to well what was coming, and dreading every moment of it. She glared up at the ceiling with her mouth still clenched shut having to bite back a series of curses and insults as he pricked her with the first needle and placed a hand around her neck to secure her there. She didn’t react quickly enough to help herself from the torture ahead of her, but she did however muster up the strength to twist her head quickly and sink her teeth into the hand in which was placing the needles into her neck as he was finishing. It would have been a much harder bite had her mouth not already been slightly numbed.

She had just enough time as he recovered himself from her ‘attack’ to spit the angry words. “You don’t even know the meaning of excruciating…and if you did, you’d know this ain’t it.” She snarled pulling on her restrained arms once against with a frustrated growl. The muscles of her jaw were relaxing and she could no longer hold her mouth closed, which was an even more frustrating.

The hate filled glare was once again on the man beside her; no amount of sedative or muscle relaxant could diminish the loathing in her glistening, yet fogged hazel eyes. She swallowed with some struggled before letting out a defeated and reluctant breath.