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Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

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Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Saken on Thu Dec 31, 2009 8:31 pm

The sky was streaked with splotches of orange and purple, the sun starting to appear and rise, casting sweet warmth and light onto the buildings that rose up on the horizon. The city was awake, even now, before the sun had fully risen and showed it's face. People where bustling along the side walk, some going into the building that would claim their soul for the working hours. One such place was the Xenon Corporation. This tall, imposing building was responsible for pharmaceutical research, trying to help every little child and ever grandparent with heart problems. The large, squat building was spread out over three blocks, with little breaks for streets so that it appeared to be separate buildings, connected by a network of skylights that allowed garbed officials to walk a cross, safe behind reinforced bullet proof glass. That, though, was just on the top – just what the public could see of Xenon Corp. Not many knew of the real secret that hid beneath those four city blocks.

This morning was no different, the scientists inside of the building where sitting in their chairs, the blue screen of a computer washing over their faces as they squinted at the data that was imputed- these where the 'regular' scientists, the one on the upper levels of the building, they had nothing to do with the true purpose of this place, nothing to do with why the Guards ran around in their power armor and were allowed more than just guns. In fact, at this time, several guards where suiting up and taking an elevator down to the underground laboratories. The guards shuffled, waiting as the elevator flashed at the top, numbers going by too quickly to tell what they where. Then, suddenly, the elevator came to a halt and the doors opened to the underground- a network of housing, halls, cafeteria and anything else someone would need. This was the TRUE reason Xenon Corp was here, and why it was so large. A few of the guards, the ones who wouldn't be staying down, smirked and picked at their teeth- they didn't envy those crazy motherfuckers who had to deal with the people down here, the freaks and the even freakish Freak handlers where not always sane. That was why, though, the Guards got payed so much – and got so many fun little toys.

One of the Guards sauntered into the large cafeteria, watching all the little Freak Handlers grab their food, Anywhere from a piece of toast and some fruit, to an omelet or some waffles, and then grab the small little cup that held their pills in it, the pills that had varying effects. One of the newer guards nudged someone next to him, whispering for a moment. Rookies – they never understood how the Handlers could be good little sheep, taking something that disfigured them (as was evident in Freak Handler Xavier, his face looked pock marked) or could have bad effects but, as the stunned newbie was about to find out, the pills had their..Good side effects.

- Elaine-
Popping the small white pill in her mouth, the girl grunted at the acidic taste, allowing the pill to dissolve on her tongue, followed quickly by a swing of orange juice, excess liquid dripping down her chin as she gave a low grunt. Elaine's mind was basically deteriorated by now, and so she could do nothing but the basic of orders. Due to her nature, or the fact that the drug had made her like this, she kept a simple piece of paper with her – a paper which had the names, the numbers assigned to them, and the location of each freak that was in this damned place.
Experiment 5643 - 'Mantis'
56th candidate, 4th wing, 3rd cell

John
Number 24117
241st candidate, 1st wing 7th cell

Name: Nela
number assigned: 1713
17th candidate, 1st wing, 3rd cell

Name: Feral
Number assigned: 296
Number 0296
2nd candidate(second generation), 9th wing, 6th cell

Name/number assigned: 00234/ Cain
2nd candidate(first generation), 3rd wing, 4th cell

01245 - Lynx Rufus
12th candidate, 4th wing, 5th cell

Name/number assigned: Mercy, 09873
98th candidate, 7th wing, 3rd cell

Name/number assigned: Octavious 008010
8th candidate, 0 - Solitary confinement, 10th genome combination


Brown eyes quickly sped a cross the page, her brows furrowed as she attempted to cement the knowledge in her brain, a brain that a few years ago would have allowed her to get straight A's in college, but now refused to work- but who cared? She could already feel the effects of the drugs beginning to work on her, her muscles seemed to inflate, hair growing coarser - - She was powerful.

Jumping to her feet the female gave a nasty smile, exposing yellow teeth as she stretched and arched, filling the room with the cracks of her spine. Her muddy brown eyes seemed to lighten to the hues of a animal, becoming an almost amber color, a color that was trustworthy and didn't fit with the sudden sadistic grin upon her face, arms bulging with muscles swinging. All around her other people, beings, were going through the same, but different changes. These muscles, the sudden gleam of animal like intelligence shining from human eyes, it was frightening.

That was why they had the collars around their neck, though – it was how the Guards could make sure that if the handlers went crazy, they could blow him to smithereens with a sudden push of the button, causing blood and guts to go flying. There had been casualties before – a guard here, a freak there. But, all in all, the handlers were good little children. They had their chances to hurt the Freaks during the 'experiments' that the scientists subjected the freaks too.

The Freaks lined up, at the opposite end of the Cafeteria from where the Guards where, pushing and shoving at each other to get through the door and into the narrow hallway, which held the freaks cells. A few minutes was all they had to wait, the door slowly opened, allowing the Freak Handlers into the room and, grudgingly behind them the guards. It was time.

“Wake up, FREAKS.” Elaine shouted – she wanted her share of blood and meat today, craved it as much as this drug she took each morning added to her brain damage, added to the shaking in her limbs and the blood within her vomit. It was time, time for THEM to rule. Watch out, Freaks.


- - Mercy- -
She hadn't been sleeping, too worried about Octavious who, at the moment, wasn't in her cell. She feared for him, knowing that the people who transported them to the ones who hurt them would come soon, trying to hurt them and shoot them with the pain sticks that she'd overheard them call 'tasers'. They scared her but everything about them scared her, from their over muscled looks to the gleam in their eyes that spoke of how they would enjoy her pain, the screams that they regularly tore from her and the other's throat.

She was scared and that fear turned into blind terror as a loud voice shouted words she barley understood over the cry of the animal within her, but she did understand one of the words – “Freaks.” Where they freaks? She didn't think so, although some of the ones older than her, and Octavious, were..weird looking, but that didn't matter. Everyone save the youngest of the group were weird looking, with claws and abnormal growths – not that it mattered, they were 'fish food' anyway - another saying she had heard from the guards and handlers.

--Scientists--
A large, slightly blading man scribbled on a clip board, looking over the data from yesterday and previous months, his face grim and his eyes bright. They were so close to perfecting..Perfecting something. It didn't matter to him, though, all he really wanted was to get his hands on his samples again, and he was certain that his collages felt the same.
Peering up at the clock through spectacle covered eyes, he wrinkled his nose. It was five in the morning and, already, it was time to work – luckily for him and the other scientists they got to return around nine but, he knew, the subjects weren't so lucky, since they could electronically run tests upon them. Yet, for now, he would need them near him so he could go about his task.

Another nod of his head and he turned towards a microphone, broadcasting his voice to the microphones about the underground building, “We would like the Subjects brought to the labs, I repeat, Subjects to the labs.” Finishing his broadcast the old man shut off the mic and examined a rather large needle, for a rabis shot or something of the like. It was very painful – and it would soon be stabbed into some poor sap's brain.
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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Hunter_Killer on Thu Dec 31, 2009 9:57 pm

Octavious


Deep within the facility, far away from the main wings and the dinning hall, so far that you have to take the corridor all the way to the end to even get close to, is Solitary. Where the most dangerous freaks are taken for examination and various procedures, or have been deemed hazardous to everyone. In one such cell was a boy, no more than twelve, huddled up facing the corner. What looked like an innocent shadow was really the first successful test of a special generation of freaks. Generation three Type Generation one, special code which meant he was created for a third generation guinea pig but was classed in the category of defects and mindsets of a generation one. It made logical sense, since a second animal genome was added to the batch to make for more... interesting... results. This boy's happened to be that of a bull and a spitting cobra... a powerful mix that happened to have been successful on the eighth try and, as such, he was named Octavious.

Octavious had the head of a cobra, even a thick neck that curved into his body and almost made it look like his head was atop his shoulders. There was just enough room and bend that he had a hood, folded down normally, but able to spread when threatened. He had no ears, only the holes in his head like a snake's, slits for a nose and slitted eyes that were steel with metallic cobalt around the edges. His upper body and structure was wide and shaped like an bull's physical form. His body is covered in both short patches of fur and irregular patterns of scales. He was huddled in the corner for a soul reason, it was the only way he knew where he was, as he was born with the vision of a snake, so he could see the heat of the land around him and the body heat of other living creatures. In solitary there was no heat, save his own, and everything was a uniform color around him, rendering him blind.

He had no idea what time it was, or what time was. His mind was a soup, thick and filled with the instincts and thoughts of two animal minds sloshed into one container and drowning out most of his human mind. What was salvageable was also modifiable, like soft clay ready to be molded by whoever could unlock the key to his mind. Mercy was the closest... The second generation girl was almost like a mother in the child's mind, though he knew not from sight only from sound, when she would speak to him. Most of his modifiable mind was hers and she could do as she wished. He did know some form of writing or communication with the girl, mostly with hands and fingers but currently he knew little of what it was... It was just the way he could communicate with her because his vocal chords are underdeveloped and may not fully form because his throat and head is that of a snake's it was marked for further study when the growth stage ended.

Lights would flicker on in his cell, not that he even knew. A guard appeared in the door way that slid open, him grinning and clanging two metallic batons with electric current charging through them. The disturbance did its job. Octavious' head lifted as he heard the sound, his mind going on the aggressive to the threat as he turned and lunged faster than most could follow. The guard was ready, drawing up a shield like object and holding it out so the boy would hit it, with his jaws parted and fangs unfolded, it catching the large fangs and letting his upper jaw sink in as a gloved hand pushed down on his nose, forcing him still as the milking process began. ever since that incident long ago involving a scientist that probed too far... The boy would be milked weekly for his venom to be collected and analyzed, to see if any mutations occurred. Currently the venom couldn't kill, only paralysis and render comatose symptoms on those bitten, but they fear that, in a few years, it can become the deadliest venom known.

The Milking process didn't take long, and when it was finished the boy was kicked away, failing to his back and struggling as the guard would descend upon him and began to rapidly beat the boy as much as possible, each strike of the batons bruising scales and skin as the brief contact would send mind rocking bursts of electricity through his body, until he was almost rendered unconscious and his body unresponsive, the guard's hand grabbing by the neck and preceding to drag him, in a one freak parade to the 7th wing and the 3rd cell... Mercy's cell.

By then Octavious was coming around and, before the guard could unlock the door and fling him in, he would hiss, detaching his jaw and latching onto the opposite arm. If it wasn't for the power armor, the fangs would have pierced through his arm completely, though with the armor it only punctured two holes with the fangs barely breaking the skin so only a minuscule amount of venom leaved into his veins, though it would be enough to turn that whole arm numb and inoperable for an hour or two. The baton collided with the top of his head and the bite was released, the guard growling a bit as he threw open the door, tossed the boy inside then slammed the door shut and locked it.

Octavious would collide with the ground and slide to the far wall before standing slowly, looking around needfully until he saw the heat signature of Mercy and crawled over to the second generation freak and hugged against her legs. In his mind he found his mother and he was fine... Only with Mercy would he be fine... If it was anyone else he would try to rip their throats out, but not Mercy.
Last edited by Hunter_Killer on Fri Jan 01, 2010 3:27 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Lobos on Thu Dec 31, 2009 10:33 pm

“Wake up, FREAKS.”

The shout echoed deep within the recesses of the facility...and was answered. A bone chilling roar answered, the sound reverberating with enough force to rattle loose objects on a table. As the sound died away, the source, an immense monster stirred. Burning eyes glared from its cell, the massive form rose, an intimidating full seven feet of muscle, claws, fur, and a disposition to spite the devil. A heavy collar adorned its neck, the four numbers that was its code stamped in. 0296, after which some reckless and no doubt long dead Freak Handler had etched its nickname: Feral.

Feral stomped forward towards the door, brought up short by the heavy chains attached to cuffs on his arms and legs. No longer was he restrained by the collar, the torn metal of its old restraint hung from it, clattering quietly as he moved. Rearing his mighty head, he let loose that booming bellow once more, a warcry of immense power. Then he quieted, settling down on his haunches. A change came over the behemoth then, the fire left his dark eyes. Like a nightmare caricature, a smile cracked across its face, jagged and broken teeth displayed for all to see.

"Feral wonders how today will be. Will it be good and fun, like when he got to run on that machine? He hopes so." The creature spoke as though he was a child, curious about the world. For he was one of two personalities within the mind of his body, the other being the cunning, violent juggernaut that could and would rip apart just about anything that moved on sight. Feral sat, awaiting whatever fate the scientist held waiting for him, regardless of how 'good' or 'bad' it would be.


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


At an earsplitting roar that ripped through most of the complex, another beast awoke. This one was slow, seemingly lazy in its rousing, but this was as true as the sky was blue. For this was Stalker, a monster to rival Feral's ferocity, even worse in its own right. For the creature lashed out at everything and anything, not even holding back against the other experiments, something its large predecessor did on occasion. These days, it was mainly used as an execution, violently killing anything put in the same enclosure as it with its wicked claws, feral intelligence, and terrifying speed.

It rose to its arms and legs, and no further. The horror of its deformity was extensive, and in time it had developed to accept being bound to all fours, flourished with the change, actually. Padding back and forth in its cell, it glared at the portal to its domain with yellowed eyes, spittle dripping from wicked fangs. The animal, for no other word truly described Stalker anymore, was conditioned, if one could call expecting the Freak Handlers to arrive conditioning.

With murder in its eyes, and muscles rippling under its taut skin and rugged fur, it watched. And waited. It waited.
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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Mikaro Sarashi on Thu Dec 31, 2009 10:58 pm

Nela sat in her cell, her mud covered orange eyes sparkling with a deadly humor. She tossed her head around slightly, whisking her long bangs to the side, letting both of her shining eyes appear from the dark corner of her cell. This was funny. They were the freaks? As far as Nela was concerned, she was perfectly fine. Different, which to her, was good. The freak handler in her opinion should be the ones in the cells. Did their minds even work? Especially that Elaine chick. Those drugs had eaten her brain. Nela liked her. She was easy to tease, trick and the like. Sure, her punches hurt horribly when they actually hit the extremely fast girl, but after the training to be a soldier that Nela had received, it was nothing. The cat girl liked her lips and grinned as her ears flicked forward at the sound of Elaine's voice.

"Who's the freak monkey girl? At least I can think for myself. I can comprehend a situation, analyze the current condition of it, decide on a solution, and then act upon my decision quickly. And I can have it be one that doesn't include hitting whatever is causing the problem. Oh wait, I'm sorry, were some of those words to big?"

Nela's high laugh split through the air. She loved to tease that brute. The cat woman still felt bad for the drugged ones though. However, she hated the scientists and the guards. They could go rot and die. Especially that one guard. Sam was her name. Yeah, that bitch, Nela hated her with a sullen passion. After all, she had played her part in creating Nela, hadn't she?

_____________________

Sam Followed the rest of the guards into the cell room, staying towards the back. She never really got close to the action if she could help it. The silent observer was her preferred role. She would keep watch over the proceedings and step in when necessary. Some of the rookies would give her odd looks and complain on occasion that she did nothing. That was, until the older ones told them a story or two, or they saw her bring down a freak or two with their own eyes. Most knew that the woman was no joke.

"Hurry up! Get these freaks moving! Time is money and I'm not losing any because of you handlers!"

Her hard sharp green eyes, locked on to those of a glaring rookie about to make a comment. The boy hesitated and immediately went back to his duties, unnerved by the sheer look of her eyes. Their hard stares, with the gemstone like color, gave them this edge that seemed to bring fear on anyone transfixed by them when she was either angry, or trying to get them to do as they were told. A small smirk crossed her face as she crossed her arms and continued to watch quietly.
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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Giggles1245 on Fri Jan 01, 2010 4:18 am

Lynx cringed, the rattling of boots and doors, and the horrid scream of that wretched woman, all of it woke her. With a loud sigh, Lynx blinked a few times, her impossible vision slowly coming to her, now only blurred. She felt as if her eyes were wide open, but in reality, they were squinting. This was the humans fault. As Lynx woke, she lifted herself onto all fours, her ankles quivering from her weight, before collapsing under her, a loud grunt coming from the Lynxette. With another grunt, she forced herself to her hands and feet and walks over to the cell's opening.

Lynx was an unfortunate hybrid. Born with the body of a human, but the knees of a cat. The only human qualities she really had were her face, hands, feet, and the fact that she lacked a tail. As for the Bobcat in her, she had the ears, claws, and body acting of one. She couldn't walk on her feet, her genetics disallowed her. Her hair mimicked that of a Lynx Rufus, tan, with splotches of black, white, and darker tan. Lynx of course wouldn't be allowed to be exposed, she wore a torn up dress, tan. This was to keep the other animals from mating.

Lynx sighed, looking out of her cell, only saw one mushed up gray blob.
' Maybe one day I'll be able to see again.. ' A smile appeared on her lips as she thinks about it, a heavenly sigh escaping her as she lays down, hand over hand, her head ontop of them. Lynx knew punishment was coming to her, but maybe, just maybe, if she got a hold of a scientist, she would be able to ask them for help.



---------------------------------------------------------------------
A slowly moved into the cafeteria, looking around idly. ~Beep Beep~ A pulled his electronic thingy out, looking to it "Go eat a banana, wheat toast, milk, and grab a purple cup." A nodded, watching the pictures of his food go by, before he looked around, another beep echoed "Move to the big arrow." He looked, found the arrow, and followed towards it. A soon grabs the items he was told to grab. "Banana." He smiled, grabbing the familiar yellow object. He then paused, holding up the line. A small buzz came from A's thing, before he looked at it, seeing a picture of toast. A smiled and nodded, before looking for the toast. "Ahha!" He grabbed the toast, putting it on his plate, before seeing something that interested him, Milk, A grabbed the item, which claimed to be 'Moooolicious!'. A then was handed a purple cup, which held several pills. He moved out of the line, then stood there, looking around with confusion.

~Beep beep~ A looked to his electron thing "Go to the table in front of you." A looked, noticing an object. "Is that a table? It's.. in front of me." He shrugged, walking to it, then looking around, he noticed a sign. The sign said in bold print Sit., so he did as it said. A looked to his food, before he was told by a guard to eat. He did as he was told, taking the pills. A shudder and cringe came from A's body.

A sat there, staring into space before he felt his skin burn. He whimpered in pain, his eyes filling with tears before he looked to where the pain was. His chest, his arms, they were becoming large! A panicked, his eyes widening as he watched it all grow into muscle. A suddenly stood up, flailing his muscular arms "HELP! SOMETHINGS--" He couldn't think of the word he wanted, and before he could, he was tazered by a guard. This guard knew what was wrong with A, and was assigned to watch him.

When A came to, his muscles were pumping, ready to be used. It was then that A realized all the other Handlers had moved on to their jobs. He blinked, not knowing this. "What's going on--" The guard picked the boy up
"Get to work, you retard!" He pointed to the red tape, which showed A where to go. A followed closely behind the other handlers, before he suddenly paused "What was I do--" He was then shocked lightly, which fixed his memory, and he went on his way, pushing his way through the guards, only to stand with the other handlers.
Last edited by Giggles1245 on Fri Jan 01, 2010 5:35 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby AlWayZFrE3 on Fri Jan 01, 2010 4:55 am

John stood on his hands inside his cell, ignoring everything around him. His eyes were closed, his wolf ears pressed to his skull so as to avoid unnecissary injury. Unlike many of the others, John was mature and smart for his age. Being a third generation with visable animalistic traits was unheard of, so they at least attempted to teach him something. Learning, however, was impossible for the young half wolf...or so they thought. Repeatedly, he tricked them into teaching more than required for the tests. Now he knew as much as they did, and with that knowledge, his maturity had gone up as well.

But, of course, it was not meant to be. They had figured out that he was tricking them, and John had been put through the hardest torture of his life. That hardened him more. Now he was probably the best con man in the base, and only thirteen years old. So he stood there on his hands, training his mind for patients, and his body for endurance, as he waited for...well, anything to break the boredom.
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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Kaoru_chan on Fri Jan 01, 2010 3:22 pm

"Wake up, FREAKS!"
The voice echoed in the young girls ears. When ever they yelled like that her ears would hurt for at least an hour on end. She opened her eyes slightly and glanced around, the same room, nothing was ever different. Kira sat up, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Since she was part cat, she had a tendency to stretch alot. She crawled from her bed, and set her bare feet on the cold cement ground.

"I'm up. Don't YOU freaks have any respect for those around you?" Kira asked.

Every Morning was the same routine. Except days that they socialized. But Kira really never did. As far as she knew, she was the only expierment in this wing. The eerie silence that rang through the halls at night haunted her dreams, and caused to toss and turn around at night. Kira knew that she could eaisily out smart the Freak Handlers and Guards if she tried. But she sometimes liked to tease them.

At times it was to much for the Freaks Handlers's minds to comprehend so they took their anger in the terms of violence. Like they did every morning since she has been in the building. The Handler roughly punched her in the gut, causing Kira to hit the wall behind her. Kira sank down to the floor and covered her ears, and let the rest of the beating commence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dr. Hanabum was reading the lastest reports on how the expierments were doing. Not that he really cared, but since it was his job, he had to deal with it. Personally he would have prefered to have been head of the toture team, but he was needed here, in the science lab. As his eyes skimmed through the papers of the new Handlers, his eyes stopped on the particular newbies, Elaine and A. He checked the monitors for the live feed of the Handlers taking care of the expierments. Or Freaks, as the Handlers called them.

"I say, what are the handlers to say? Haven't they looked in the mirror lately?" Hanabum asked himself.

He chuckled a bit. He always made himself laugh. Other people didn't think his jokes were funny, but as long as he did, it was alright. He always made fun of the Handlers and Expierments. Everybody did. The expierments made fun of the Handlers. And the handlers made fun of the Freaks. For as long as Hanabum worked at the science lab, he thought that the pills wouldn't have a major affect, but they did.
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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Conumbra on Sat Jan 02, 2010 1:27 pm

Wake up freaks!

Cain

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha"

Cain's laughter echoed throughout the prison. For Cain found his current situation so funny that he just had to laugh and why shouldn't he? He was in a dirty cell, his filth mixed with his waste in the toilet that refused to work, located at the corner of cell. He was unable to use his powers to blend into the environment because he had been fixed with special electrodes on his skin that shocked him if he tried to remove them or if he tried to blend into the environment. His clothes meanwhile had almost turned to dust from how rugged they were. This was his current situation and to Cain's warped mind, this was the height of comedy.

For the umpteenth time since he had been given this cell, he tried to blend his clothes and his skin into the environment and for the umpteenth time he was shocked again. This elicited more cackling from Cain, his two eyes closing shut as he rocked back and forth. Cain was an unusual creature, with bulged out eyes and a tongue that was around 3 feet long. His eyed could see in two directions though Cain rarely bothered to use them that way. He still remembered vaguely how it was to use normal human eyes and he used his chameleon eyes almost the same way. His skin had a scaly texture to it even though its colour was still pink as most normal humans. Human, that was a funny word. Funny because he was no longer human. No, he was less then human. He was a demihuman.

Cain then sent out his tongue at the bars, trying to use the strength in the muscle to rip the bars from their pedestal. Unfortunately the bars in his cell had just been changed to electrified bars to stop this from happening and now Cain did it just to allow more pain into his system. He thrived off pain, loved it and basked in it. He thanked the torture that the scientists gave him every now and again for allowing him to feel the exquisite presence of pain. At first he had hated the scientists for doing this to him, but eventually something snapped in Cain's fragile little mind, something which allowed him to witness the magnificence that is and was pain. As his tongue was electrified, he sat back, wallowing in and enjoying the experience, laughing all the way.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Frank James:

Frank stood in the line, waiting for his food. He could not engage in conversation with the other freak handlers even if he wanted. The drugs he took had destroyed his voice box long ago. Thankfully that was the only damage that had been caused and Frank’s mind was relatively unscathed from their effects. To compensate for his lack of voice, he usually used brute force to get what he wanted; beating some of the lesser Freaks and befriending the ones that he knew could beat his ass to a bloody pulp. He did this even thought the scientists specifically told them that if the freaks were beaten, they would be unsuitable for testing.

Frank stood there, deciding what food he wanted before another Freak Handler gave him a little nudge as if to say that Frank should hurry up. Frank didn’t fight back as he hadn’t taken the drugs and so would probably get beaten by this stronger, more imposing Freak Handler. So Frank picked some random food and some random drink and sat down at the plastic table, the cold material giving him shivers as he did so. He then looked at his food, to decipher what he had gotten. It appeared to be some toast along with what looked to be milk. He shrugged, they were okay but he would make sure that he found something else to sneak in between assignments from the scientists.

He then turned to his pills which he was required to take every breakfast. He plopped the pills into his mouth, then took a swig of his milk before swallowing it all down. He then began to feel excruciating headaches and pains in his throat. For a few seconds he thought he might die from the swollen flesh choking his airway. He then felt the muscles in his legs bulge as the drugs increased his muscle strength, which would also increase his speed. When it was all done he breathed heavily for a few seconds before making a sigh of relief. He then went over to join the other Freak Handlers.
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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Script on Sun Jan 03, 2010 8:29 am

Several hours earlier...

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The fall of a drop of water onto his face woke Mantis, the boy leaping to his feet with a hiss, crouching in a battle stance and darting his eyes this way and that, expecting to be greeted by a taser or a baton from a guard. After a few seconds, he ascertained that there was no enemy to kill, and calmed slightly. One hand found its way to his face, and wiped away the droplet of water gently. The boy gazed at the wetness on his finger and wondered when he had stopped crying. He remembered nights that he would spend constantly in tears... perhaps he had just run out. With a hoarse sigh, Mantis walked to the door of his cage, pressing his hands to the solid metal door and peering out through the slit at the empty corridor. He could hear the soft breathing of the other freaks in his cell block in the silence, and...

And nothing, Mantis decided, as the moment of tenderness passed and his mind began to revert back to the instinctual frustration and anger that was its 'par de la course'. With a snarl and a hiss, Mantis lashed out at the metal with his forearm, leaving a long scratch down the metal to accompany the countless others that dotted its surface, before stalking back to the corner and crouching low to await dawn...

Now...

"WAKE UP, FREAKS!"

The customary shout punctuated the rise of many of the freaks, but Mantis had been awake for hours, unmoving in the corner of his cell, staring blankly ahead without a single twitch. But with the arrival of the Freak Handlers, the boy began to emit a low hiss, anticipating what was to come.

The door to his cell creaked, a sound he had identified as signaling that it was to open shortly, and Mantis moved. He was up the wall in seconds, blades digging into the concrete to offer him ease of ascent. There he hung, waiting as the door swung inwards to admit the first freak. Mantis leapt then, striking downwards with a hiss... and hitting the riot shield the man had held above his head from the start, his blades cutting into the shield but not slicing clean through, leaving him vulnerable to...

He reeled backwards as a baton caught him in the midsection, frantically trying to remove his blades from the shield, much to amusement of the handlers. "What's the matter?" one of them taunted "The Mantis having a little trouble, is he?" he asked with mock sympathy, before laughing. Mantis twitched.

Without warning, the man was reeling backwards as the riot shield impacted with his nose, breaking it and sending a stream of blood running down his face. Even as the other men's tazers sent incapacitating bolts of electricity into Mantis' body, he grinned up at the gasping man, managing to force a few words out before he lost consciousness and hit the floor, to be carried off to the labs.

"What's the matter? Having a little... trouble?"
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(03:04:15) Lialore says: I wanted to be the poo.

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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Valekor on Mon Jan 04, 2010 11:04 am

Zevran had very poor eyesight, deteriorating more and more each time he took the drugs. He couldn’t see what was where, but he could certainly smell the food, and whatever smelled good, he ate.
He’d taken some orange juice for breakfast, along with toast and bacon and eggs. He looked like an old man, moving over with his face really close to the food to see what it was.
Perhaps glasses would’ve helped, but he refused to use them. His eyes were gone, he accepted that, so there was no for any glasses.

In terms of ‘ambience’, he’d grown apathetic to the entire place, he acknowledged the place was far from something you’d want to call home, but it was for him. And at least they served decent food.
The acidic aftertaste that burned on his tongue made him cringe, he’d taken three glasses of orange juice to wash the taste away and the toast and eggs had tasted horrible afterwards.
Not a combination you’d want to try, he should’ve known by now. But the drugs would act up if he took them –after- having breakfast, and having acid reflux was worse than just having an acid taste on your tongue.

He’d grit his teeth as the drugs finally kicked in, thankfully after having all of his breakfast. He had no idea what the scientific changes were, nor did he care anymore.
All he really noticed, aside from the pain, that his eyesight just got a little worse, he’d probably barely be able to make out shapes anymore.
Zevran got up and walked towards the line, eyes closed.
Elaine’s shout was characteristically loud and full of bloodlust. Zevran just shook his head as he waited in line with his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched and face down.
Even though he didn’t share Elaine’s enthusiasm for feeding the Freaks, he wasn’t shy for the use of a little violence, a little adrenaline to get the blood pumping.
He wondered what they’d pit him against this time, whatever ‘colleagues’ he’d be teamed up with, they’d almost certainly send him in first just to see ‘the blind guy get his ass kicked’. Well, unless he’d end up with Elaine. In that case, he’d most likely be denied any of the action, could be quite amusing now that he thought of it.

He shrugged and moved on, patiently waiting for the others to move while being pushed from time to time.
Satophail: While not uncommon, Satophail is a degrading condition that targets the mind, heart, and self-confidence. If you find yourself making startlingly horrible fails with increasing regularity, contact your Doctor immediately.

Satophail
The cure
Cloasse lost it. Again.

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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Saken on Mon Jan 04, 2010 7:14 pm

A single arm curled around the small bull who had been thrusted at her, his body quivering against her feet. For a moment blind rage had Mercy's body stopping, her heart quickening and her vision going red but they would only beat her if they got attacked, only hurt her and Octavious whom was clinging to her feet, she wouldn't hurt them. No..not yet.

Besides, the male who generally came to their cell, Z something or another, wouldn't hurt them, generally. Although, if he had that brute of a female with him, she doubted that they would escape unscathed or, at last, she wouldn't escape unscathed. No one was stupid enough to mix with the fucked up generation three Octavious and, for that, she was glad - she had some sort of maternal insticts for the boy and the last time he had been beaten in front of her it had been her in the isolation ward, slowly drained to within an inch of her life.

-- Elaine --

The brute's head lifted with a grunt, ehr lips pulling back as she attempted to process the smart Freak's comments with little, to no, success. The young woman's head swung around, her over muscled arms tensing and relaxing as she picked out who her partner would be today. A loud obnixious newboy or that blind fucker, who didn't argue when she decided to beat the Freaks till they bleed red.She'd take Blindy.

Elaine lumbered forward, a beefy arm placing it's self around the man's shoulders, if he allowed her too, and she spat out, "You're with me," a large spray of spittle landing on Blindies face. "Come on, Blindy." She taunted. Elaine didn't curb her temper for anyone, she'd been known to get into fights with anyone who attempted to curb her appitites for the blind brutatlity she unleashed upon the freaks but, at least, Zavern wouldn't mind.

No no, this was going to be a good morning, the young woman already knew that. Sure, she was drooling like an idiot, but who the hell cared? The woman was just waiting till they could move in on the two freaks, the weirdest ones, the only ones that bunked together. "You go first," she grunted out once more, her chin pointing towards Mercy's and Octavious' cell as beady brown eyes picked another cell, marked up the little bitch who'd taunted her. She'd be next.

Fingers clenching together in excitment, the woman let out a soft laugh. Oh, she'd enjoy tangoing with the freaks today. Needed it.

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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Hunter_Killer on Mon Jan 04, 2010 9:16 pm

Octavious


For as childish as the monster of a gen three acted at the feet of the one he thought to be his mother, not realizing the abomination he was, it quickly ended as soon as it was certain his 'mother' was in the cell with him. Then a strange wave of solitude would wash through it as it would stand slowly and give a light push at her legs and moved to take the arm off of him. To him it was light, to Mercy it was with enough force that he might accidentally dislocate her arm again. he didn't know any better, or how to limit his strength... Not yet... And when it came to getting involved with those Freak Handlers and the occasional guard it was a good thing.

Unlike most freaks here, he was flagged for extra tests and extra watches by guards, not just handlers but guards. There might have been a few Gen ones out there with a similar watch but his combination genome made him worth a lot more than the others, and the fact he was the only successful one made him priceless. Of he still took the beatings like everything else, but his beatings came from Elaine who, wit no doubt, was administered some of the previous anti-venom to negate any bites or strikes he might land on her large and clumsy body.

In a match of strengths, only guards could move him, in a match of wits, Elaine was right around the intelligence level of the soup of his mind, but he had Mercy. he had more potential as his brain didn't rot but grew. He could never fully reach the semblance of a normal Gen two mind, his mind would keep its soupy aspects if not growing a little thicker when both animal genomes fully set in his maturing body. Something that would bring on torturous pain in and of itself as there was a formation in the DNA that would have him shed his skin almost every other month since the bull genome was almost foreign and would spark these periods.

This was for another time, in some bleak future, most likely in these very cells.

Outside the cage there was a second guard that took up the first who went to the medical room for an anti-venom cartridge for the small bite he received that day. The guard was there to make sure that, until the freak handlers arrived, the interactions between Mercy and Octavious were minimal. Just because he responded well to the Gen Two, didn't mean something could snap within him and end up in the possible loss of two test subjects or one. In either case they wanted minimal injuries and almost no fatalities. A least not yet.

The guard outside was flipping through a hand held device, chucking occasionally and glancing back up into the cell. Specially made, like solitary, to encase something of the boy's form. Every single cell was made from six inch thick, unbreakable and durable plastic walls. A few holes cut out high near the ceiling and a few low near the ground, making the ability to spit venom all but impossible. They learned that risk the heard way, as one guard still couldn't see or feel his face at all as it was frozen in a dumbfounded and blank stare, the man studied to understand the dangers of getting the venom in the eyes, nose and mouth.

Octavious was up, staring at the guard with slits for eyes, unblinking as the clear scales would not allow him to do such things, if he had eyelids to begin with. With a solitary hiss he would charge towards the guard, nearing a point he would leap into a quick strike. The guard would jerk from the thud of the child hitting the cell wall, the whole wall seeming to shudder as a scuff was left from the impact. The dropped device would fall and clatter to the ground, pictures of naked women and pornography scrolling across its screen before he snatched it back up.

No matter how long you are on guard duty to watch the pair, you never get used to that...

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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Lobos on Sun Jan 10, 2010 9:04 pm

Feral paced back and forth among his cell, the heavy chains rattling with the slow movement. He kept jumping back and forth between his two extremes, a cheerful, harmless giant, to a malevolent, cunning monstrosity. The beast ripped gouges in the thick metal walls, bellowing and raging at its imprisonment. The man chortled, humming to himself and commenting on his days in his cell. Together, the activity was an erratic show of the madness that was this experiment, something that had over time become a sure way to manipulate Feral into whatever was required of him for the scientists' purposes.

Outside his door, guard's chuckled, one leading the live ram that was Feral's breakfast. His partner slapped the control pad next to the door, winding the chains to pull the experiment against the far wall. His bellows shook the room, and then the hallway as they quickly opened to the door, shoved the ram inside, and once again sealed the virtual tomb. Outside, they watched carefully on the viewscreen, chuckling as the beast was released from his bondage.

In an instant, Feral was across the room. For such an immense creature, he moved startlingly fast, covering the twenty feet separating him from the ram in a heartbeat. The animal bleated once in vain, before a sweep of the man's great paw ripped it apart. Blood poured from the torn halves of its food, and for a moment the beast just stood there, panting heavily. Then he descended on the carcass, ripping into it with the ferocity of one starving. Gore splattered his shaggy hide, future additions to the liberal amounts already dried and set in his matted fur.

The creature of him did the feeding, but it was the man that rose. His horrible grin plastered to his face, he laughed cheerily. "Feral enjoyed that nice meal. He hopes the next is just as good!"


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


Stalker lay in wait, lurking in one shadowy corner with the patience of the hunter. It knew that soon, if routine held, it would receive prey to kill, unaware and uncaring that this was also an execution. There was merely food, and whether or not it fought its fate was of no consequence to it. For either way, the victim would die, be consumed, digested by this deadly inhabitant of the dark cell, and finally their legacy would be of smeared excrement, washed away once a month. The monster was allowed to lie for a few moments more, before its head perked up, it could hear stirring outside its door.

The same guards that had given Feral his meal in such cheer were much more taut, alert. Almost frightened. This phenomenon seemed strange, considering their powered armor, and deadly weapons. But Stalker's reputation was so dark that even with these advantages, they were wary of him. One pressed the chain controls, and the cuffs that adorned the experiment's wrists and ankles jerked the beast back, away from the door. His partner, aiming carefully at where he would be, nodded to the doormen, who opened and shoved in a teenager, a failed Second Generation bombardier beetle hybrid. The frightened girl trembled, knowing that there was something terrible in the room, the stench of death hanging in the air, blood painting the walls, bones littering the floor.

Stalker held his ground as he was released from his bondage, studying this new prey with feral cunning. Dark grey eyes gleamed in the shadows, observing the weakness of the girl. It growled, and then it was bolting across the room. The victim opened her mouth to scream, but it was too late, the monster was upon her, fangs ripping her throat out so that only a bubbling gargle escaped her. Her dying blows were weak against its flesh, it barely noticed. Several moments passed, and finally its kill grew still.

Stalker purred with satisfaction, the sound was horrid, nightmarish. Then it dipped its head, and begun to tear flesh from bone, sating its hunger on the carcass it had created.

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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Giggles1245 on Tue Jan 12, 2010 6:38 pm

Lynx perked up as she heard the thumping of boots hitting the ground, like pounding thunder. She sighed, looking around, always been the one left behind. While this may have been a good thing, Lynx didn't like it. It was only another time she couldn't ask for help. "C'MON, YOU KNOW I'M HERE" Lynx was lucky, she had a voice. She didn't know enough to use it, but she knew enough to speak.

As Lynx looked around, no guard came to her cage and she sighed, resting back down. "Maybe they are saving best for first.." She didn't mean first, but she didn't know last. Lynx curled up, watching through her prison bars, just waiting for a small light of hope.

Lynx's blindness gave her no enjoyment, no excitement, and because of this, it didn't keep her attention for long, which made her sleep more so. As Lynx lied in her curled up position, she slowly dozed to sleep.

As Lynx opened her eyes, she was taken back. Lynx lied in an artificial meadow, speaking with another bobcat like herself. Her name was Rufus. Rufus licked her paw as she spoke to Lynx.
"This isn't real, you know." Lynx tilted her head "What do you mean?" Rufus sighed, looking to Lynx with true eyes. "This place, it's fake.. they're only here to torture us. The world outside, I imagine its beautiful, and different.. but we don't belong there, so we're brought here to see where God went wrong." Lynx simply chuckled "But, if that's true, why am I happy here?" Rufus shook her head to the small cub "You haven't seen the truth yet, my dear.. and you will.."

Suddenly, Lynx's dream was interrupted by the gift of a baby deer, already dead and fixed to Lynx's liking. Lynx was too kind to actually kill an animal, so the guards did it for her, 'less she starves to death. Lynx sighed, staring to her food as she spoke ".. I never did see Madam Rufus again... I miss her.." She then shrugged, taking a bite into her food.


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

A glanced around curiously, watching the freak handlers start their job. A didn't know what to do, so he simply stood there, or at least he did, until -- ~Beep beep~ He pull his electronical out, looking to it. " Feed 01245 - Lynx Rufus. " A blinked, a sudden migraine surging through his brain as he tried to scrape what he knew about 01245's breakfast. Soon a guard came over, grabbing A by the arm.

A was dragged a while's away, until they arrived to the prep room. The guard sat A in a chair, taking his electronic device. The guard then set up for pretty colors to swirl about the screen to distract A while the guard made Lynx's meal. A sat there, his eyes quivering with dazzlement.

After what seemed like a few seconds to A, the guard shoved a plate of deer meat towards A. A stared at it, then looked to the guard curiously. The guard grunted "Take it to 01245." He then picked A off the chair and shoved him in the direction. The guard continuously shoved him, until he reached the cell of the sleeping bobcat. A looked to the guard curiously, before the door opened a bit, allowing A to push the food through, a bite taken out. As the Lynxette woke up, the guard shocked her, in fear she was going to attack A. [color=#000000]"C'mon, you squirm."
A was then pulled to wait with the other freak handlers.[/color]

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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Valekor on Wed Jan 13, 2010 11:44 am

The sudden lack of pushes, grunts and remarks told Zevran enough. Elaine had made her way to him and, regardless of their general demeanor, most preferred not to tangle with the crazy female when there were so many freaks to handle.
“I guess they have some sense after all.”, he smirked, thinking about what they’d encounter this time. How about Mantis? He preferred Mantis, it was always fun dancing with him, the fact that it was apparently –dark- in his cell made no difference to Zevran and the ability to shoot a few thousand volts through the bugger evened the odds a bit.

He allowed the arm to be placed around his shoulders, the smirk turning into a grin at Elaine’s taunt. He was very much aware of her temper and regardless of the lethal side-effects, he admitted he appreciated the honesty in it. “I smell you’ve taken a shower this time.” Zevran taunted back, keeping his grin as they walked.

Zevran lack of eyesight had forced him to remember the maze that was the underground facility, be it the parts he had visited at least twice. As long as he knew where to go, he’d be able to find his way there, nobody in the facility would bother giving the blind man a damn escort. Not when watching him stumble and fall into an cage with another freak was so much more amusing.

He stopped and turned his face towards Elaine’s, raising a brow. “You go first?” he repeated. He’d felt that she had indicated the direction a nod or something, but that didn’t really tell him a damn thing. “Are you forgetting I’m blind, woman? Either just tell me what cell or walk me there, don’t fuck’n NOD in a random direction!”

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Re: Mutations and Genetic Experimentation (IC)

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Script on Sat Jan 16, 2010 9:00 am

"...told you once before, make sure that you keep the left one held down..."

"...not the one I asked for, could you go back and make sure you get the one with the blue label, it's on the third shelf to the..."

"...anyone actually watching the experiment?"


Mantis' eyes flickered open to be greeted by the glaring light of an overhead bulb, shining down on his prone form. He was on his back on one of the testing beds, his arms and legs bound down and his mouth gagged. Eyes lighting up with fury, he turned his head from side to side, trying to ascertain his surroundings. The hubbub of voices that he had been hearing came from a group of scientists that were in the room with him, each bustling about his or her business and managing to get in the way of every other in some way or another. There was no coordination in their efforts, each man or woman had their own agenda, and they were far too busy to think about what other people needed to get done.

The room was relatively small, with a table with equipment laid out to Mantis' left, a block of cupboards and surfaces against the wall to his right and a small door directly ahead. On the table was laid a variety of nasty looking devices, from scalpels and other blades to syringes and pills. Mantis restrained a hiss, knowing that it would only alert the white-coats to his status of consciousness. He hadn't been allowed to regain consciousness at this stage before, he only ever remembered being taken from his cell, and being thrown back in several hours later. Obviously somebody had mucked up.

The experiment was able to figure this out despite the fragile state of his mind, and in fact it was this that often led to guards loosening their tongues around him. After all, the crazy fuck wouldn't understand, right? The boy stretched his fingers, curling them and experimenting with the straps, testing their strength. Unfortunately for him, that small movement was noticed by one of the scientists.

"Hey! He's awake! Get me some tranq in here pronto!"

Mantis hissed loudly and began struggling with more vigour, tugging at the straps with his not inconsiderable strength, the leather of them creaking. If only he could get his armblades down far enough to...

A sharp pain in his neck made Mantis' eyes widen, and he turned to find a syringe protruding from his skin - he could already feel the chemicals inside him, creeping to shut his body down and send him to... to... sleep...

As his sight faded, Mantis caught only the beginning of the scientists' speech, his mind wanting to panic at her words, struggling against the weight of unconsciousness. But then he slept...

"Bloody hell, who in hell was supposed to be keeping that dose up? We could have had a major disaster on our hands there! Now someone fetch me my gloves, I'm starting off with a..."

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