Gavin (Now Hawke)'s Story

It seemed like a normal day outside, the sun rose as expected over the forest and a nearby city. Average people went about their business as usual, oblivious as to what was going on several miles outside of the designated hiking areas. Unbeknownst to them, individuals who ventured too far, who went missing from what should be fatal accidents, and even those who have never seen the outside world, are locked in their own personal hell of needles, white walls, bright lights, and pain. Only known as The Lab, this torturous facility experiments on living humans; the younger the better. Taking non-human DNA and splicing it into the human genome is what their scientists are most successful at. Then testing their abilities to the limits. Often only stopping when the mutant was close to death.
Funded by a select few of the government, this Lab has been able to remain functioning out of the public eye and even expand its business to several locations around the country. Workers of the Lab are sworn to absolute secrecy, are watched if they show signs of being disloyal, and are only relived of their posts because of old age or the complete inability to do their jobs. Most are there from the promise of money, not realizing in the beginning what the people actually were that they were hired to guard. Instead of prisoners they found children and young adults. Some seemed normal, until they were seen up close and showed their abnormal features of tails, animal-like ears, different colored skin, eyes, hair, even feathers and scales covering their skin. But once they accepted, they were not allowed to leave.
The higher-ups will do anything to keep their merchandise from being discovered. When malfunctions in the facility happen, enabling the bolder mutants to run away, they are hunted and brought back, dead or alive. But with cities becoming larger, more complex and hi-tech, it is much easier for mutants to hide and guards to get caught by authorities.

Dray
He was finally let out of the dark room. The door was opened and the guards grabbed his arms, and then proceeded to drag him to his cell. He let out a shuddering breath, he hated the dark room, a small cramped space with no light. He had no reason to be scared of that, yet every time he was faced with it, he couldn’t breathe and started to panic.
He was thrown carelessly into his cell and he stumbled, barely catching himself on the edge of his cot before he hit his head on the corner. What was deemed a bed was not that comfortable, and barely fit his body anymore. He eased himself down on the floor and started rubbing his leg muscles that were still cramped and sore. He almost wished he could go to the infirmary; the beds there were softest any of the mutants had felt. Though the healer ladies often said they weren’t the best.
He watched out the bars, observing the guards as they took their posts at random spots in the hallway. It kept his mind off his itchy clothing, the bland grey he saw everyday was a poor match against the bright colors that appeared on the mutants. Early on he realized it was only them because the scientists and guards all looked as bland as their clothing. He hoped he was given a new set of clothes soon, but pants would be best, his current ones were coming up to his ankles.

Hawke sat dead center of his room with a hood over his head. This had started out as a way to keep him from fighting the guards. Now, he wore it willingly, and often--where it more or less made true birds sleep, it heightened his sense of hearing. It had taken him weeks to get the guard who came in most often to give him the black leather hood. In his current spot, with the hood on and his eyes shut, he could easily hear down the hall. Granted, he couldn't understand all of the words, but he could recognize voices and tones. Guards spoke or laughed, rambled on about some girl or this one's wife. One that was further away spoke some words of encouragement to a mutant.
There was one problem with having amazing hearing. One of the crueler guards slammed his fist onto a bar, the resulting vibrations giving Hawke a pounding headache. With an angry shout he ripped the hood from his head, one of the clasps getting caught in his hair. Grumbling to himself, he untangled the steel piece and set the hood on his lap, staring off into space.

Max Bast entered cell block one as most of the inmates were leaving their 'cages,' barring the nocturnal ones of course--It was best to study their habits at night. This was her life now, guarding genetically altered creature people for some shady government subsidiary. It sounded like something straight out of a cheesy YA novel, but it wasn't, it was all too graphically real. She scanned the room quickly, her green eyes, wide and without armor. Her resolve was reminiscent of Babel somehow lately. Collapsing. They're not human... She reminded herself, grip tightening on the holstered gun hanging low on her hip, as if their species was the ultimate excuse for apathy. As if pity became a vestigial emotion after the final transformation of a human body to a genetically modified one. But then again, in that sense, neither am I. She had once considered herself apart from these mutants, these man made freaks, simply because appearance wise, she still maintained a human air. Her body had not been disfigured, not drastically so anyways, but with each passing day, that line seemed to blur before her eyes. What really made her all that different from these poor miserable bastards? The fact that they trusted her with a weapon?

She shook her head, as if trying to shake herself free of those negative thoughts like they were black cobwebs clinging to her mind. She couldn't afford to feel sympathetic. This was the forever sort of gig, there was no backing out and no escape. She really should have read the fine print.

Her gaze lighted over a fellow guard, one she usually tried to keep a distance from. It wasn't like he was the unnecessarily cruel sort, just somewhat intimidating. Well, to be more apt, his scars and disfigurements were intimidating. He was the stony silent type that's rugged war torn appearance spoke leagues. They were working the same schedule today. She raked a hand through her cropped sun bleached hair with a sigh. Olek carried a palpable aura of strength and authority, something Max sorely lacked, but she was still newish here so perhaps she could garner a thing or two from him. She wound her way through the room, making eye contact with no one--her tanned face as smooth and inexpressive as a china dolls, before she found herself next to Barrow. "Morning." She intoned with a voice that broke like dry wood, her usual warm southern lilt hollow and empty. She kept her jaw squared and her gaze ahead on the prisoners.

Olek:

Olek crossed his arms, as his eye focused on the guard that was banging on cell bars further down the hall. He could feel rage bubbling under the surface of his calm exterior. The guard was walking away from his post, probably cycling out for another guard. Olek would make an example of him later. Riling up the prisoners wasn't good business, if this guard was going out of his way to make things harder for Olek, that's the way he saw it anyways, he was going to take him down a peg or two. Olek stared him down with his good eye just as a young female guard took position at the same cell as himself. Max Bast, new guard. Must have transferred in from somewhere else. Olek was usually given full access to information on all guards, but the files on Bast were primarily secret. "Morning," she said in a stiff emotionless voice. Olek couldn't glean much notable information from the young woman at first glance.

Olek took a mental note of Bast's greeting whilst narrowing his eye at the guard that had banged on some of the bars. Jenkins was his name, as he walked past Olek, his hand snapped at Jenkins with lightning speed. He pulled Jenkins in with his right hand. His grip was firmly locked around the collar of the guard's body armor. Olek gave him an intense gaze full of anger, Jenkins quickly buckled under Olek's negative reaction towards him. "If you're relaxing or napping when I get off of my shift, there's going to be hell to pay." Olek boomed at him in a rough voice. A single bead of sweat trickled down Jenkins' face.

"Got it?" Olek said calmly. Jenkins nodded his head, slightly shaken by Olek's sudden outrage. Olek let go of the slightly frightened guard and nodded towards him. With that the guard sped away, further down the hall, then proceeded to disappear behind the corner.

As he left, Olek turned his gaze to Bast. His good eye sizing her up. Olek was tired, losing some of his edge for the day. He hadn't been sleeping too well, her features blurred together ever so slightly as a result. He rubbed his left eye, gazing into Bast's light green eyes afterward. He was tempted to ask he how someone so young got into a position such as hers, but he thought better of it. None of my business. "Sleep well Bast?" Olek tried his hand at small talk after he broke his gaze away from Bast's. He was no fan of small talk, but it was a good way to size someone up.

Hawke smiled slightly watching the idiot of a guard run off, a twitch of his lips and little more. He had to squint to see the two who replaced that area of the hall: the male who had reprimanded the first, and a female he didn't recognize. Not that he could really recognize anyone currently, his eyes watered as they were with the pain in his head. He got to his feet, listening closely. Neither of the two were cruel dolts, that much was obvious... There was something in their tones that said they were...nicer. He couldn't think of a better word. But even voices could be deceiving. He rubbed the small tooth he wore around his neck, along with several other "trophies" he had gotten from the games. A leather strap that had used to be on the hood was what held them all in place. He moved closer to the bars, tapping on one quietly, partly to be polite and partly to avoid making his head hurt more.

"'Hoy," He called, using mostly words he learned listening to the guards, "There any possibility we will be getting clothes soon?" A simple enough request, if bold to actually ask. But it would give him more information about these two, based on their response: Why exactly where they here? Where they the sort he could trust, even be friendly to, like the one who had given him his hood? Or were they simply a bit less cruel?

Besides, his clothes were too small once again, even though he was done growing. As though they had very few who were his age or size, and gave those clothes out first. And they were beginning to smell odd, even to his own faulty nose.

Olek

"I don't sleep much these days..." Those words resonated within the deepest confines of Olek's mind. He was much like Bast in that regard. The job was causing his mind to buckle due to the inner conflicts he had every day. Six or seven years watching children get picked apart would do that to any sane person. Olek's helplessness to the whole situation was always hanging around his neck. He was there to train guards, and track down escapees. He wasn't there to be a hero, he was there to live, he was there for family. Olek shook his head and looked forward for his next assignment. The thrill of the hunt always calmed his mind. It wasn't nearly as troubling as watching caged and broken individuals.

"I mean, it's this gig, you know? I'm sure it's a nice vacation from the jobs you usually pull, or you look like you'd usually pull..." Bast spoke up, her voice pulling him out of his maelstrom of troubled thoughts. She appeared to be slightly flustered after this, she rested the back of her head on the wall and proceeded to lean on it whilst emitting a deep sigh. He gave a small smirk at those words, a sad one at that. He was quick to hide it, he was on duty after all. He couldn't crack a smile without guilty conscience, not in a place like this anyways.

"This would just be a Hell of a lot easier if guy's like that didn't piss all over these kids, you know?" Careful Bast. He thought immediately after Bast acknowledged the prisoners for what they were. That was a dangerous thought to have in this line of work. He gave a slow and courteous nod at this comment. He was in full agreement. Cruelty was sometimes needed on a few rare occasions, but for the most part it was bad business to damage the prisoners when one didn't have to."Fuck, don't get me wrong, I can be a total hard-ass or whatever, but there is no excuse for being a dick, right?" Olek didn't nod this time. He simply gave Bast a lingering gaze before he once again scanned the other cells and the halls with his eye.

"Believe it or not, this is the most difficult job I've ever been charged with." Olek reflected the guilt in Bast's eyes with his own. Lasting for only a few moments, Olek once again proceeded to look around to ensure everything was in order. Speaking in a much lower voice, Olek waited for the camera in the hall to swivel away from the pair. "Try to be careful about who you talk to about stuff like this, the higher ups tend to..... frown upon humane ideals." Olek was the lesser of the two evils, he was by no means a good man. Bast seemed like a good person, he'd do his best to look out for the young lady, in a weird way she reminded him of himself when he was a rookie. He glanced once more at Bast awaiting conformation when a voice a few cells down the hall called out to the two guards.

"There any possibility we will be getting clothes soon?" A simple enough request indeed. Olek's forehead furrowed ever so slightly. He walked over to the cell just out of arms reach. A man with a hood over his head met Olek's gaze. He grumbled as he briefly noted that this one had a heightened sense of hearing. Olek was at a crossroads. He wasn't the laundry boy, he didn't want to risk seeming like a pushover, but at the same time it was a simple request. Olek was hazy on the rest of the details, but he was sure that the man would understand the discretion.

"I'll ask around later tonight." Olek spoke nearly in a whisper after gazing intensely at the young man for a few moments. With that he rubbed the back of his neck, and stalked back to his position next to Bast. His eye constantly trained on the large Jaguar that was letting out a low growl at them. Seemingly unfazed by the large predator stalking about its cell, Olek leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms. "Keep your head down and you'll fit in just fine here Bast."

"Believe it or not, this is the most difficult job I've ever been charged with. Try to be careful about who you talk to about stuff like this, the higher ups tend to..... frown upon humane ideals." Olek responded not unkindly. Max was certainly surprised to say the least to hear that admission from her male counterpart. She assumed he'd be all iron and brick, but instead of rough edges, she was finding softness. Today was definitely shaping up to be an odd day, and it was only half over. She nodded curtly and let the corners of her lips pull up fractionally in good faith before she quickly slipped back into professional mode and resumed her ever tedious watch over the prison cells.

Olek was then suddenly flagged down by one of the aforementioned caged creatures with a reckless abandon, and she had to shake her head at the audacity of it. Perhaps they got so used to the abuse, they no longer feared it, but instead welcomed such things. She was in no position to argue semantics, they could treat whomever however they wanted as long as they weren't breaking any rules...which was a far cry from the Max that she used to know, who lived to go against the grain and defy those would seek to control her. The difference was, now she was responsible for enforcing the rules and things always looked differently when you were on the other side of the fence.

A loud feral hiss sounded from behind her, derailing Max's train of thought with a start, her pupils contracted into cat-like slits and hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Her hand immediately flew to her side arm, ready to unholster before she realized the feline growl was resounding from behind a set of steel bars. She sighed with relief, tension bleeding out of her shoulders. "Down kitty, it's not nice to scare people." She quietly admonished, arching a golden brow before her eyes returned to their normal state. She traced the sharp contours of her canine's with her tongue before she recognized that the jaguar wasn't still yowling, that it was her stomach that was still protesting. "Must be feeding time, huh?" She asked rhetorically before returning to Olek's side. "Hey, did you get a schedule this morning? I'm not sure what time it is exactly but should they be getting let out of their cages right around now? Or fed?"

Edur liked watching these guards. They still frightened her, but they had a different air about them. Of all the guards Edur had seen come and go, these two had to be her favorite to watch.

Watching them, Edur's attention was drawn to a loud hiss that came from a cell a few down from hers. She pressed her face to the bars to get a better look at the angry mutant.

Edur had seen this mutant few times, but from what she could tell Edur wanted to stay away from her. Shivering from the thought of meeting her in The Games her gray eyes turned back to the guards. The interesting female mentioned food and almost on cue more guards came in and dropped food into almost all the cells.

She ignored it for now, instead watching two mutants being dragged out. One guard turned to the interesting man, telling him that the games would be early today.

Edur whimpered at those words and sent a sympathetic look to the red head who would be forced to participate. She hated The Games, even if she had only been in it a few times. Mutants forced to fight each other, coming back bloody or dead. One day, Edur knew, she'd go into The Games and not come out.

Olek:

Olek stood at attention, once again drifting away to his thoughts. He had a new batch of rookies to show the ropes. He'd probably do some hand-to-hand training after this. After that he'd probably head back to the barracks, get some shut eye. Jenkins was going to sleep on the floor tonight. Olek couldn't wait to tell him. He almost chuckled thinking about it. Bast had an exchange of words with the large cat in one of the near by cells. He was pretty proud of how she handled it. His interest was peaked for a few moments, but proceeded to be swept away by his disinterested demeanor.

He continued his stalwart scanning of the halls. After a few moments Bast spoke up again. "Hey, did you get a schedule this morning? I'm not sure what time it is exactly but should they be getting let out of their cages right around now? Or fed?" Olek shook his head and was just about to explain what the correct procedure was when a pair of guards approached. Olek closed his mouth and eyed them both.

”Early Games today. Feel free to come and watch.” The one in front of him spoke as they marched to respective prisoners out of their cells. Olek raised his left eye brow. Calmly Olek looked at the one with red hair, then the one with the hood. He looked back at the guards and gave a grunt of approval and waved them off. Olek made no move to follow them. He was going to stay and watch over the prisoners. He looked over at Bast for a few moments wondering if she would go watch the 'games'. Olek personally didn't watch any of them. He did his job, nothing more. He was rarely ever stationed at the games. He only went when they were short on guards. True it was important to see what the prisoners were capable of, but Olek preferred to spend his time elsewhere.

Today's shaping up to be a long day. Olek understood the purpose of the 'games,' but it was very brutish for a coalition of scientists to implement. There had to be more effective ways to observe combat effectiveness. Either way Olek wasn't paid to think. He was paid to watch and act when necessary.

Hawke's cheerful mood at finding kinder, more sympathetic guards, ones who cared (to some extent at least) was ruined as he listened to food being passed out. Instead of a tray being brought in, his door was opened. He knew before he was hefted to his feet and dragged along like the drowsy thing related to birds they believed him to be: The Games had come early, and it was his turn again. He pulled off his hood with his free hand, glowering at the guard. This wasn't Hawke the prisoner, not as they led him out. The man that spoke was one just shy of a killer.
"I know the way, and that stupid speech about us running being helpless. Let go of my arm. Now." He growled every word, each syllable a heartless snarl that made his own bones go cold. He couldn't allow himself to feel. Not now. There was something odd about this Games. He hadn't done anything to piss anyone off-- this time. Dray, the other they dragged down the hall, was also pretty quiet from what he could tell. Neither had spoken, but if rumor was anything, this kid was as dangerous as Hawke was. Perhaps more.
With an annoyed growl at the guard who still hadn't let go, he dragged the fool along, his senses dead to the punch that struck his side. He moved closer to the other mutant. Whether to size him up or try and make an ally of him, he hadn't decided yet. "Wonder who pissed them off. They're at least two weeks early..." He spoke softly, his voice still so angry it was dead. Still holding the hood, he rubbed at the homemade necklace unconsciously. Something isn't right... Who do they want dead...? That was the only reason he could think of for the Games to be held this early. What could be so dangerous that they wanted to kill it before it became a threat to the Scientists?

Chris Sat by the bars of his cells making absolutely sure to keep an eye on the two guards, most of them couldn't be trusted and he liked to stay alert whenever they were about. Which was pretty much all the time. He listened to them talk carefully, and what he heard left him pleasantly surprised and a tad confused. As they spoke they seemed kinder, and gentler then most of the other guards and they even came to the defense of one of the other mutants! These two seemed to have the decency to treat the other mutants with something that resembled either common decency or pity. He couldn't quiet tell which though. These two were certainly unique as far as other guards went. Chris decided that he would still keep a cautious eye on them but he'd be sure to treat them with far more respect than the others.

Chris smiled and gave a sigh of relief when food was finally brought into the cells. He had smelt the food as soon as the guards had stepped foot into the cells. When they came to his cell and left the food he practically jumped at it! He was starving, though the slope that they were usually fed was far from appetizing, it was still food and they didn't get fed enough as it was so he made sure to enjoy what he had. As he was eating however more guards passed by his cell this time leading away two mutants. It must be time for the Games. He looked at the two who were meant to fight each other, Dray and Hawk. He didn't know much about Dray other than him being extremely quiet. Hawk however he had heard of and if what he heard was true than Dray would have a tough time ahead of him. Chris felt rather bad for both Dray and hawk though he was far more relieved that he wasn't chosen to fight in the next game. He looked at both the mutants as they passed with worried eyes, he hoped at least one of them would be okay, though that wasn't very likely. "Good luck." He made sure to speak soft enough that the gaurds wouldn't hear him but he was certain at least one of the other mutants would. Most of them had stronger hearing than normal humans and he was very aware that Hawk's hearing was extremely potent.

"Early Games today. Feel free to come and watch.” Max's stomach rolled. She had had the displeasure of baring witness to these brutal displays of combat study already. It made her sick. There had to be other ways to collect data, to study the predatory effectiveness of the mutants, right?

The poor pitiful souls that were hauled from their holding cells hardly protested, only mildly irritated it seemed. For these creatures, this never ended unless it ended in death. Their agony always eventually numbed and all the tortures became mundane. They started to laugh at their captors, which pushed the scientists and guards to invent new games to play with them, but the mutants never were impressed. Arguably the worst part of their existence had to be the boredom, the pain became so unreal, but the routine was always the same. Max believed that was the genius of the torture, the repetition of it. It must of been like waiting in line and every time they made it to the front, they got thrown to the back like a domino.

Max turned to Olek and grimaced. "I'm going to go...watch." She confessed, nerves rattled but maintaining her composure. "They might need an extra set of hands if any of these guy's try something...it can get pretty violent-they panic and-" She let her words trail off into implication, he knew the lengths some of these mutants might go to to try and escape, to avoid their inevitable death. Anyone would, human and mutant alike.

Kisa

There were things going on around her, and yet, Kisa could only think of food. She was drooling by the time they got to her cell, and... Finally! Unperturbed by the sight of dead fish, mixed in with... Leftover Mutant parts? She hesitated when she saw the human hand and what look looked to be the head of a mutated head of a bird. She was frozen only for a second, and yet, the battle in her head felt like it took forever. In the end, the hungry jaguar won.

She forcibly let go of her humanity, embracing the predator side of herself and threw herself at the pile of food. She tore it apart, scattering the fish in her cell, and ate the smaller fish whole, gulping them down. In not time at all, the fish--and the mutant parts-- was gone. She licked her lips, and her skin seemed to move like a ripple in the water and then her fur fell off in clumps and patches to reveal human skin. Her skull, shoulders and hips, cracking as if breaking. This was the part when she moaned in agony, feeling the pain of her skeleton changing, her bones breaking themselves apart to reattach at certain places, shrinking and twisting themselves to form her human skeleton. Her muscles either tearing or shrinking, both actions causing her to moan a bit louder. The transformation from Jaguar to Human, hurt more than it did to change from Human to Jaguar... and it always took longer.

When the transformation ended, Kisa was naked and cold. She didn't mind it, and she didn't care. It was something she got over along time ago, but still, without a fur coat she quickly changed into her clothes.

When that was done, she realized that she felt satisfied... for the moment... She growled at herself for deciding to go human, as she just noticed that Dray and Hawke were being taken to the arena for the Games. Being in her weakest form while the games were going on, was definitely NOT a comforting idea. Despite that, she stayed in her human form and continued her pacing.

Hawke frowned, glancing at Dray as he was dragged off. He was confused; he had heard about this kid being formidable, and here he was acting like prey. Like he didn't know the first thing about fighting. Had it been luck? Or maybe it was acting. No matter. He'd find out in a few minutes.

I hope I don't have to kill you kid... I really do.... He often heard the younger, more human mutants whispering something to an "oh lord", whoever that was. 'Have mercy' and 'Please, get me of of here' were the most common. In a way, they got their wishes: their deaths were swift, painless. Usually by his own hand; most of the older ones weren't so easily swayed by mere words.These words, spoken so softly....

Perhaps there was something to it. Maybe a strong telepathic mutant, maybe the lost minds of those ones who died. Since he'd learned enough words to think his thoughts fully, he'd thought as "loudly" as he could: Whoever you are... Get us out of here. Don't allow them to make us fight any longer. And if I must fight, allow my hands to be swift, my mind blank. Allow their deaths to be as quick as possible. Find us an escape where we survive through all of this..... Should I die, let me see the sun again.... Just like now, he always ended his thoughts with that; vague, blurry memories of playing in green grass, staring up at a bright blue sky... He longed for that, more than anything else. Dead or alive, he wanted to feel that afternoon warmth, one last time...

Hawke snarled as the door shut and the yelling began. Forcing his emotions to be dead once more, he pulled the hood back over his head. Normally he didn't need it in the Games. He had a feeling, this time he'd need all the focus it could give him. He slowly, with a deadly single-mindedness, tightened each clasp so the hood fit over his eyes. He tucked his head down, shifted his stance to spring forward the minute the door to the arena opened.

As the cheers and calls and insults belted got louder, he waited for the bloodbath to begin.

Hawke launched from the door at the bell, listening to the resulting racket to get an idea of where he was. Not that much changed in the Arena. His focus was on finding the highest ground possible and attack from above, where his speed had a better advantage. He had found a high point, and was about to dive onto the sick one when a furious roar caught his attention. The other mutant was huge, at least three times his size. And it was after Dray--He could only tell that's who it was by the fact that neither of the others were him. He sounded larger than he normally was, still smaller than the Fourth though. The giant, malformed beast was injured by Dray's attack, and pissed off. As Dray's bones creaked audibly from the shift, the creature brought its giant claws down over him. With a groan at the boy's brave but idiotic behavior, he left the weakling alone and dove at the Fourth's head with a running start. He gripped tight and swung his legs; its head was as big as his own torso. He clung for dear life as he forced it to stagger sideways. Enraged, the beast turned toward him.

"Dray! Don't you know you take weak prey down first? That way, you expend very little energy, leaving plenty for you to use to rip apart the Prize! Doing it in reverse can get you killed!" His voice didn't sound like him, even to his own ears. He was bloodthirsty now, completely in the brutal game. "Come on!!!!!" He roared at the beast, shifting his weight so he could move more quickly either to his left or forward. To the right was a wall. Backward would land him on his back, wide open. His abilities didn't work on any of those here. He relied on his movements and actions alone, Hawke the killer instead of Hawke the mutant.