Introduction
The Facility has eyes everywhere. They know when someone begins to show special powers, sometimes before the future patient even knows. Granted, in the beginning, it's impossible to hide. No one can control when or how their powers manifest. It could happen day, night, any age, any place. One thing that never changes, however, is the fact that it can't be controlled in the beginning.
So the Facility steps in. The Powered can run as fast as they want. The record for evasion is 20 hours.
No questions are answered. No explanation given. One moment, a budding Powered is trying to discover what's happening. The next, they're in a cell specifically outfitted in a way that will keep them contained among rows of others. They're the new inmates of a sterile, dark, sadistic asylum. Sedatives are given out of "kindness" to help with the pain and confusion. Perhaps it's just a side effect that it helps keep the inmates more docile while experiments are run.
In another wing, Receivers are kept in similar arrangements. People far more regular than the Powered, but with something that will hopefully make them more receptive to serums derived from the tissue of the Powered. Empaths, O-neg blood, et cetera. Anything that would help them hopefully take on the traits of the Powered by unnatural means. No tests have been successful so far.
Welcome to the Facility. It's home now. Learn to enjoy it.
And should you care for your own well being, don't bite the hand that feeds you...
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TO BE KNOWN
Embossed into a wall of each cell is a list of rules. These are also broadcast each "morning" over loudspeakers hidden in the shadows hanging under the tall roof.
Welcome to the Facility.
All inmates are reminded that you must be wearing the scrubs provided to you and demonstrate good hygiene. This includes daily showers, disinfection, clothing changes, and compliance with staff requests.
All inmates are reminded that acting up is not tolerated under any circumstances.
All inmates are reminded that good behaviour is rewarded.
All inmates are reminded that sedation is not optional, nor can it be given by request.
Welcome to the Facility.
Cells are arranged in long rows consisting of one hundred a line. The first two numbers in an ID is the row number. Odds are for males, evens for females. Row 11 faces row 12, row 13 faces row 14, et cetera. The last two numbers are the cell's placement in that row. For example, cells 1111 and 1211 are directly across from one another. Unless a Powered requires it for the safety of everyone in the Facility, cells are not soundproof. They can be communicated across unless preventative measures are taken. All cells are adaptive. Visibility is a privilege. All cells are able to be moved by a large crane hidden in the shadows over everyone's heads, almost like an elaborate warehouse. The facility is invariably painted bright white and is very very well lit under the level of the lights. Again, this can change depending on the needs of an inmate's keeping.
Meals are given twice daily, sedation by various means whenever the previous dose is half an hour from running out. The most common method is a gas vent in the ceiling. Some Powered require tranq shots or some other method. Unless otherwise required, each cell has a simple cot, sink, shower spigot, and powdered disinfectant dispersal system. Emergency methods are in place for every inmate.
Any polymers used are clear, tintable, and able to be manipulated in a variety of ways. They are insanely resilient, nearly impossible for even a Powered to go through. Any other materials are treated to be more than strong enough to handle what it will receive from any side.
Matthew Wilson has been assigned ID number 2120. His cell is constructed of polymers, currently fully tinted. It's kept colder than most, but not unbearably so. New inmate. Emergency measure: A sudden drop in temperature to below freezing and water vapour dispersal.
Roald Hartford has been assigned ID number 2121. His cell is constructed of polymers, currently fully tinted. It's just large enough to keep any large forms he may shift into contained, if uncomfortably so and to the damage of all interior features. New inmate. Emergency measure: gas grenades of varying strengths depending on the size of his form.
Wayland Smith has been assigned ID number 1337. His cell is constructed of non-flammable, conductive polymers, currently fully untinted. Below the floor is a matrix which is able to send up electricity. 4 year inmate. Emergency measure: Activate said matrix and keep active until cell is able to be moved away.
Persephone Nyx has been assigned ID number 1441. Her cell is constructed of Gypsum boards with Rockwood insulation. Only one side is constructed of polymers, currently fully untinted, and upon any sort of heating up the cell will begin to take on water. All items inside are flame retardant, scrubs included. A thin film of water is kept on the floor. 3 year inmate. Emergency measure: Flood cell.
Cassandra Hall has been assigned ID number 1434. Her cell is constructed of polymers, currently at half tint in front, untinted on top, and full tint elsewhere, and has a thin film of water on the floor. 2 year inmate.Emergency measure: One shot gas grenade, flood cell.
Zilla Levina has been assigned ID number 2218. Her cell is constructed of insulation coated by conductive polymers, currently fully tinted, through which a pulsing current runs through. New inmate. Emergency measure: Tazer, gas grenade.
Valen King has been assigned ID number 1926. His cell is constructed of polymers, currently fully tinted, and is, of course, well lit. Currently under severe torture for equally severe disobedience: held in a greenhouse under mocking eyes, camera, happy gas, floodlights, tickling, and the burning sun with no food and nearly impossibly accessible water. His plight will be broadcast on occasion as warning to the other patients. 1 year inmate. Emergency measure: Severe increase in light, gas grenade.
Thomas Mullen has been assigned ID number 1942. His cell is constructed of polymers which are still tinted due to his initial disobedience and the time spent chasing him down. To keep him from meditating, short, sharp electrical pulses are occasionally administered by an anklet he is required to wear. Unlike most Powered, which will break down to the grasp of insanity soon enough, his process is being sped up by random spans of complete darkness and harsh, warbling screeching. Eventual visual and auditory damage will ensue from this. He is currently three and a half days into one of these phases. 6 month inmate. Emergency measure: gas grenade.
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Thank you for your interest in The Facility! Let's lay down a few ground rules:
1) No godmodding. Writers decide the actions of their characters and theirs alone. This includes character injury and death. Discussing things OOC is a good way to make sure no one's feelings are hurt.
2) No overpowering. Yes, there are some strong characters in here, but everyone has weaknesses. No one is all powerful.
3) If there's a problem OOC, take it up with me (The(Doctor)Horrible) so that things can be kept running smoothly.
4) PROPER ENGLISH, PLEASE. Occasional spelling and grammatical errors are acceptable, but let's keep it literate.
5) Be courteous, please.
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Character Skeleton, the more detail given, the more likely you are to be received. Your character can start in the free world just before exhibiting traits, as a fresh inmate, experienced inmate, rookie staff member, etc.
Name:
Aliases:
Age:
Gender:
Face Claim (no anime, please, and include any changes to the face claim's features necessary):
Extra physical info:
Power (in detail, this includes what their best containment method is) OR Receiving trait (empath, O-neg blood, etc, multiple are great) OR Staff Position (for more info, talk to me):
Personality:
Biography:
Likes (at least 3):
Dislikes (at least 3):
Strengths (at least 2):
Weaknesses (at least 2):
Fears (at least 1):
- 66 posts here • Page 1 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 10 authors
Welcome to the Facility.
All inmates are reminded that you must be wearing the scrubs provided to you and demonstrate good hygiene. This includes daily showers, disinfection, clothing changes, and compliance with staff requests.
All inmates are reminded that acting up is not tolerated under any circumstances.
All inmates are reminded that good behaviour is rewarded.
All inmates are reminded that sedation is not optional, nor can it be given by request.
Welcome to the Facility.
Matthew Wilson has been assigned ID number 2120
Roald Hartford has been assigned ID number 2121
Meals are given twice daily, sedation by various means whenever the previous dose is half an hour from running out. The most common method is a gas vent in the ceiling. Some Powered require tranq shots or some other method. Unless otherwise required, each cell has a simple cot, sink, shower spigot, and powdered disinfectant dispersal system. Emergency methods are in place for every inmate.
Any polymers used are clear, tintable, and able to be manipulated in a variety of ways. They are insanely resilient, nearly impossible for even a Powered to go through. Any other materials are treated to be more than strong enough to handle what it will receive from any side.
Matthew Wilson's cell is constructed of polymers. It's kept colder than most, but not unbearably so. Emergency measure: A sudden drop in temperature to below freezing and water vapour dispersal.
Roald Hartford's cell is constructed of polymers. It's just large enough to keep any large forms he may shift into contained, if uncomfortably so and to the damage of all interior features. Emergency measure: gas grenades of varying strengths depending on the size of his form.
Wayland Smith has been assigned ID number 1337. His cell is constructed of non-flammable, conductive polymers. Below the floor is a matrix which is able to send up electricity. Emergency measure: Activate said matrix and keep active until cell is able to be moved away.
Persephone Nyx has been assigned ID number 1441. Her cell is constructed of Gypsum boards with Rockwood insulation. Only one side is constructed of polymers, and upon any sort of heating up the cell will begin to take on water. All items inside are flame retardant, scrubs included. A thin film of water is kept on the floor. Emergency measure: Flood cell.
Cassandra Hall has been assigned ID number 1434. Her cell is constructed of polymers and has a thin film of water on the floor. Emergency measure: One shot gas grenade, flood cell.
Zilla Levina has been assigned ID number 2218. Her cell is constructed of insulation coated by conductive polymers, through which a pulsing current runs through. Emergency measure: Tazer, gas grenade.
Welcome to the Facility.
Okay, waking up really hurt...
"God damn, they hit my head hard when they threw me in here, huh?"
As Matt opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the chill in the cell. His recently acquired transformational abilities wouldn't help him at all here, then, he mused silently as he took an account of his surroundings. Walls seem to be made out of some sort of... Polymer, or something. That was prototype technology, though, even for Biomed majors... Why would they use it to hold people captive? He stood shakily, regaining feeling in his body. "Alright, first order of business, figure out why the hell these walls are made from polymer," he muttered, not quite trusting his voice yet. He sauntered over to the wall, running his fingers along it. "Okay, so this seems like it's a bit... Full. No way for me to slip through any cracks in it. That'll be a problem." He could feel the sedative they'd forcefully injected into his system forcing his movements into the sluggish territory. "There's another problem... Can't stretch, can't get out. Th' hell am I supposed to make friends now, huh?" At the silence, he rolled his eyes and raised his voice. "Can anyone hear me? C'mon, I know you're out there!" For the love of God, please, someone be out there...
"I miss the sky, the rain, the sun...I miss it all."
"Walls, floor, ceiling. Walls, floor, Ceiling. Walls, floor, wall, ceiling, wall, floor." Andy Hall sat in the corner of her cell, number 1434, bare feet shuffling back and forth in the small film of water along the floor. A shiver went through her body, hands tugging through her hair as she moved towards the entrance of the cell, standing to her full height. For two years it had been this same thing every morning, "Walls, floor, ceiling. Walls, floor, ceiling." Her head snapped up as a new voice rung in her ears, eyes flicking around. Most were starting to wake, the sleep cycle was over and it was stimulated to feel like morning, though Andy could never tell.
"Walls, floor, ceiling...Voice. Voice. New voice..." There was a small pause as her dilated eyes blinked back to normal. "Hello?" Andy called out hesitantly. She started twitching again, pupils going wide as she continued her muttering. "Walls, floor, ceiling. Walls, floor, Ceiling. Walls, floor, wall, ceiling, wall, floor." Her stomach growled in hunger and she could feel the fluidity of her muscles starting to return as her sleep tranquilizers started to wear off. This feeling of returned control made her feel wonderfully back in control, though it wouldn't be long until a personnel came and gave her another sedative.
Setting
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Sitting up she hugged her knees to her chest gently, the fear of losing herself to her darker side having been dragged to the surface again. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it the fear still gnawing at her mind every day, from when she awoke to when she went back to sleep again. She listened in silence as the others wake, unsure what to think when a new voice echoed down the corridor. Hearing a reply echo back shortly after she sighed softly glad that she don't have to bring herself to reply to the voice, preferring to stay secluded in her cell.
After shifting slightly on the cot so that she was more comfortable she quietly mutter to herself, calming soothing words to help ease the fears away. Letting her hair fall over her face in gentle waves, ignoring the soft pangs of hunger she often woke with. She lent back against the wall slightly, letting the soft pulsing current wash through her body, giving her the confidence that her dark side couldn't take over as long as the current was there.
Welcome to the Facility.
All inmates are reminded that you must be wearing the scrubs provided to you and demonstrate good hygiene. This includes daily showers, disinfection, clothing changes, and compliance with staff requests.
All inmates are reminded that acting up is not tolerated under any circumstances.
All inmates are reminded that good behaviour is rewarded.
All inmates are reminded that sedation is not optional, nor can it be given by request.
Welcome to the Facility.
Staff patrol is coming with food and to check on inmates.
However, when he groaned and rolled out of bed, he was met with something hard as opposed to carpet under his low-sitting bed.
Roald yelped in surprise, now fully awake, and snapped his eyes open. He wished he hadn't. Light flooded in, blinding him temporarily. Areas of impact made themselves known, but some were slightly older. New: cheekbone, shoulder, hip, knee. Old: skull, shoulder, arm, hip, knee. He could feel the chill ground through various scabbed over cuts and abrasions. Fallen outside, perhaps? But this was definitely not outside.
That's when he began to remember. Searing pain, enough to make him cringe even now. Confusion. Falling...
Footsteps.
His eyes opened wide again. Fear sent his heart racing, his breath rushing in and out as logic allowed terror free entrance to his mind. He'd been kidnapped, and now all he could see was a cell around him, too concerned to look further.
"Oh my God," he breathed.
With that, Roald began to panic. It took him two tries to stumble to his feet and to the wall nearest him -- the front facing the hallway. He beat against it with clammy fists, struggling to keep himself upright. Then the wall next to him. Then the next. The entire time he screamed for help, for anyone who could hear him, who could let him out, for knowledge on what was happening. This was the sort of thing that happened in movies, not real life.
Welcome to the Facility.
Valen's eyes fluttered open, he quickly shut them and positioned his arm over them to block the blinding light. His thoughts were slow, they had to be forced, but within a few moments he quickly remembered where he was. The familiar sensation of burning from the radiate room of his cell reminded him, that he was still in the Facility. How cruel it is, he thought, that the only comforting darkness he experienced was that in his dreams.
Slowly he sat up and uncovered his eyes, after being in this room for a year his sight had still not grown accustomed to the constant light. He slowly looked around taking in his surroundings as he had done hundreds of times, the ceiling, the walls, and even the floor had lights installed in them. All of these lights were protected by sheets of industrial glass, even a sledge hammer wouldn't of been able to crack the glass.
Valen stood from his bed and stumbled over to the sink, splashing water on his face, it was refreshing but did nothing to stop the searing pain. The pain was a familiar feeling, brought on by the light that surrounded him. It was not unbearable, but felt akin to how one would feel if their skin was exposed to harsh chemicals.
Sitting back down, he closed his eyes and listened to his surroundings, the screams of a new inmate met his ears. Valen felt pity for this poor soul, little did he known this would be the place he spent the rest of his life. His pity was quickly purged, replaced by the familiar blaze of his anger and hate, it had been one year since he was captured. Today the drunk driver who had killed his dearest friend would be released back into the world, free to live out the rest of his life, never thinking of the dark force that wished strongly for his suffering.
Valen sat there, meditating on the hatred he felt, only feeling it grow stronger in reaction to his discontent. How dare the world lock him away, how dare those lowly humans restrain him! The dark force raged within him, for now he was doomed to sit here and wait. But the day would come when these lights would fade, darkness may be held back for now, but it always returned. After all, it was the final result of all things, and like darkness, he would spare no one of his fury.
"Hey!" He yelled over the other man's screaming. After he got the other's attention, he lowered his voice considerably. "Hey, man, it... It's alright, it'll be alright. Eventually. We'll..." C'mon, Matt, think. What does the guy need to hear? What would you need to hear? "We'll survive, right? Can't be that hard. Find a way to escape, maybe. They can't keep us here forever, right?"
"I miss the sky, the rain, the sun...I miss it all."
Andy's head perked up as she heard yelling from down the hall, pressing her hand against the polymer wall, banging on it slightly as she scratched at the creases, looking around wildly to try and pin point the voices she had heard. First one and then another, both unfamiliar. Actually, she had heard one before, but it was fairly new, not like her voice. It had been here for 730 days, 24 months, 2 full years. "He-help! Someone...Help! Get me out of here! Walls! Floor! Ceiling! Walls! Floor! Ceiling!" Andy screamed. The yelling continued, voices swimming around her, scents, emotions, bodies. [color=#006891"Stop! Stop! Stop!"[/color] She covered her ears with her hands as she yelled at the people talking. The cold water was seeping from the floor and into her bones, making her shake uncontrollably. Another bad side effect of the medication wearing off, she could feel everything, nothing was numbed or blanked away. The world was now a vivid and frightening place to Andy. The sound of a slot opening made her shriek, jumping back with cat like reflexes to land on the balls of her feet on the mattress of her bed. A man dressed in white set a tray down on the floor through the slot, closing it once it was on the watery ground. "Eat up." The man chuckled, continuing on with a cart of other trays with food and medication. Crawling forward on hands and feet she approached the tray, bottom lip quivering as she sat down on the wet floor, putting the plate on her lap as she used shaky fingers to pick up the pills and place them on her tongue, swallowing painfully.
There were no guards in the cell blocks themselves as far as he knew. Really, there was no need. Each and every cell was tailor made to keep the prisoner within contained. It had been disheartening for him when he'd first been caged, what was it, he wondered eyeing the small scratches on the frame of his cot, and counting. Fourteen hundred and seventy five days ago? Damn, time flies. Now however it didn't bother him. Nothing in this world is perfect, there would be a flaw, a mistake someday, and he'd be ready and waiting to exploit it.
Some yelling farther off into one of the other cell blocks shocked him from his thoughts. New prisoner he supposed, sounds like about five or six halls away, in the nineteen hundreds. He tried to feel sympathy, but honestly they were all in this together. No one person had a monopoly on misery, he should know. He'd seen people come and go, but the routine stayed the same, keep your head down, and do as you're told, and you'll be alright.
“Hello.” He heard, right across the hall, a young womens voice. He groaned, don't be a screamer please. “They're too far away to hear you.” He muttered quietly, waiting for the announcement he knew to be coming soon, one he could recite by memory he'd heard it so many times.
More screaming, a different voice this time, and pounding on the walls, thankfully in the same cell block as the first voice, and not in the one he had to live in. Call him cold if you like, but his motto was be calm, be courteous, and maybe they wouldn't dissect you because you're creating too much trouble.
As he had these thoughts, another noise interrupted his thought process. Wheels, and footsteps. “Chow time.” He spoke aloud with a vicious grin, this place was so predictable, everything happened exactly the same way everyday.
He watched the man dressed in white scrubs pushing a cart laden with food and sedatives. He recognized him, same guy that fed them in the morning everyday, average looking and in decent shape, he was as nondescript as they came. He stopped at cell fourteen, thirty four, and slid the food in, eliciting a shriek from the cells occupant.
He made his way methodically down the rest of the hall, same as everyday, before finally reaching his. Wayland watched him through the window as he slid his card to unlock the feed slot, and slid his tray through onto the little table within.
“Much obliged.” He said politely with a nod. Wayland was ready to eat and return to waiting, but the voice of the man stopped him. “Pills first.” Unsurprising, he thought, as he picked up the two pills and shoved them in his mouth, and promptly swallowed them without a fuss. Feeling them turn to ash as soon as they reached his stomach. Sedatives didn't really work on him, his ah, unique physiology burning out foreign substances before they could take effect, but he humored them anyway, acting like they had some minor affect. The man seemed satisfied by him swaying in place slightly, and “woozily” heading to his cot to eat.
“Same time tomorrow?” He asked the back of the man as he dug into his decidedly bland meal, all but the metal shavings in the meat turning to ash as he swallowed it, not a hint of sarcasm in his voice, but a grin on his face. He was ignored of course, they weren't here to socialize.
Arrogance. She thought to herself when she had seen the water.
They knew her strengths, weaknesses.... it killed her. She wanted her fiancé, her mom, her sister, and her kindergarten class.
Goodness, they have a new teacher now. She thought. She kicked the bed and sat down again, trying her best to set herself on fire.
Sadly, she could not.
"I miss the sky, the rain, the sun...I miss it all."
Andy had scooped runny mashed potatoes onto a spoon, opening her mouth to take a bite when she heard his voice. She dropped her spoon back onto her plate, holding the tray in a white knuckled grip as she turned her head to look out the clear polymer wall of her cell. With eyes narrowed she glared across the hall at the man, if he could be called that, who spoke with the feeder. As far as Andy knew he had been here longer, much longer. He had been here when she had first arrived, the first person she had spoke to. Andy muttered under her breath and picked her spoon back up, cleaning the utensil of the mashed potatoes. It was like this everyday, listening to him try and make conversation with the people who had them locked up, lips puckered 24/7 to kiss ass at any opportunity. Andy couldn't stand him. Finishing her potatoes and gravy covered meat she set the tray down, sliding it across the slick floor to bang against the wall. Crawling off the bed she followed the dry path it had let, though the floor was quickly slicked with water once more. Standing at the door she began muttering again, over and over the same thing. "Walls, floor, ceiling. Walls, floor, ceiling." Her body was in one place and mind in another, staring down to watch the way her head turned in different directions, fingers twitching against the glass, and lips moving as she spoke in rhythm of what her body's eyes were seeing. "Walls, floor, ceiling...Brimstone. Brimstone. Brimstone. Tray. Walls, floor, ceiling." Being in one 6 by 6 cell for two years with no change, no ability to stretch, run, or do anything except pace or sit did things to people. Insane things to people.
She hardly registered the man delivering her food until he banged on the door, waiting for her to take her pills. Taking up the tray she retreated back to her bed swallowing them without further question before eating hungrily, trying to ignore the voices of the others.
Feeling the darkness inside her feed upon her fears.. Feeling it trying desperately to scrabble free as she ate she reached breaking point unable to stand it she shouted loud so all could here "QUIET" before retreating into silence herself. She hoped he others would soon settle down as she returned to hugging her knees tight. The lights in her cell flickering for a second before settling as the pulse lowers for barely a second allowing a small amount of her energy free, this settling her as the sedatives calm her further slowly helping her to relax.
She watched him sometimes too. He could tell, stay in isolation long enough, and you could tell when people were watching. He didn't mind. He watched her too, he watched everyone, and everything. He sighed, smoke billowing from his mouth as he did.
The cell was just big enough for him to lay down and have his feet and head touch both sides. Not big enough to do much of anything, but he did do some light exercise. Crunches, push up, squats, not much else to do. They were essentially animals to these people. He hated them, despised them, but he never let on. He let them become complacent, and someday he'd make them remember why they had to keep a live circuit active in his floor.
“Somethings gotta give someday. Nothing is perfect.”
Yet somehow, he was able to register a voice from the other side of his prison. It was a lifeline. It was safety. Ro's breath caught in his throat, cutting off his shrieks to send him stumbling to the wall it came from. He pressed his palms desperately against it, tried to force it down with his will alone. Leaning on it kept him standing. His knees wouldn't have supported his weight if he hadn't. As it was, everything was faint. His ears still rang with stubborn alarm bells. His head swam with the adrenaline fear had given him. All he was consciously aware of was terror and the voice on the other side of this wall. The sedating gas hissing into his cell escaped all notice.
"P-Please, I dunnae know where I am," bubbled Roald's voice, far softer now. It was foreign even to the student in this situation. It was too loud and sudden. Yet is was the only way he would be able to communicate with this saviour phantom. "I'm jus' a student, I attend Edinburgh Napier University, major in cinematography, I'm no one, nothin' special, please, wh-why'm I here?!"
A startled yelp tore from him again at a beep from the wall to his left, followed by a resounding shout of "Quiet.". It was enough to send him sliding to the ground. Nonetheless, he clung to this one special wall the best he could, shaky hands making sure his lifeline was still there. Anything could come from that sound... yet all that materialised was a tray with food, pills, and a plastic cup of water. "Meds," barked a voice from outside, but Ro couldn't bring himself to leave his current spot. He didn't take any medication other than vitamins. There was nothing wrong with him. Just a student. Just a student. No one special. Nothing special at all.
"Alright, it seems like..." The American sighed. This was not what he wanted to do with his life. Although it kinda seemed like he didn't have a choice anymore... "It seems like this place is equipped to deal with people who're a bit... Unnatural. Like me, I... Stretch. Really well. And they've set up my room so that there's no way for me to escape, even using my, erm, stretchiness." His face fell when he heard that his newest conversation partner was taken from college. "Damn. They took you out of college too? Not exactly the nicest people, here, are they? I got taken at my freakin' graduation, of all things..." He sighed. "You didn't do anything to net yourself a prison sentence? 'Cuz if so, that'll make two of us. This place seems... Well, it seems really shady." A prison well-enough equipped to have a special cell made with the exact materials to properly remove any supernatural abilities from the equation? "Something's definitely up with this place..."
He heard the (presumably) younger man yelp again, and heard him slide to the ground, going silent as well. It was deafening, yes, but now he could hear the sound of... Some sort of gas entering his room? The hissing sound continued, and after a couple seconds he heard footsteps outside his room as well. A bang on... Huh. That wasn't a door, but to his left, a... Something opened, and a plate of food was slid in. "Meds," The benefactor drawled intimidatingly, before slamming the door behind him. "Well, as I was gonna say before we were so rudely interrupted, what's your name?" Better to calm this guy down, help him as best he could from this damn cell...
"I miss the sky, the rain, the sun...I miss it all."
“Something's gotta give someday. Nothing is perfect.” Brimstone's voice echoed in Andy's ears, drawing the woman back into her body, head tilting to the side as her eyes focused on the curly haired man. He was right, even if she didn't want to admit it, all humans made mistakes and one day someone here would slip up. Sitting up, balancing on her feet, she looked to the left. Standing she looked to the right and then curled a hand into a fist, knocking on the glass of her cell with her knuckles. "What are we going to do when it gives?" Andy whispered across the hall. If anybody knew every little detail about this place, it was Brimstone, not to mention he could burn through just about everything with a simple blink of his eyes. Andy had a similar ability to break down walls, though it was much more...messier. If Brimstone was able to get out of his cell would he help her? The rest? Or would he leave them all behind and try to escape by himself? Her lip quivered at the though and she tapped the glass with her fingers, running her other hand through her straw colored hair. What if she were to get out? Would she help the others? It was something she had never asked herself before, it made her chew her lip and flick her eyes around the cell blocks. These people, even if behind panes of polymer had grown to be her family and friends. She would do anything possible to free them from this hell hole and hoped they'd do the same for her.
“What are we gonna do when it gives?” Excellent question, he thought. Making eye contact with her, leveling the same intense gaze on her eyes as he had used to study this place for years, now studying her, weighing her.
She ran a hand through her hair as he studied her, her lip quivering, finger tapping the glass, and he knew, knew that he could never leave anyone behind if he got free. It just wasn't in him to abandon these other people to their fate. They were all family now, bonded by agony, and shared suffering. That at least he was sure of. So he answered her question truthfully, voice a raspy whisper, barely carrying to her cell. Whisp of smoke escaping his lips as he talked.
“They want to treat us like animals,” He paused, grinning savagely, confidently, eyes shining with the absolute faith that they would all someday be free, even if he had to tear this place down, stone by stone. “then we'll show them what happens when a whipped dog slips it's chain.” He never once broke eye contact, wanting to see her reaction to his words.
Welcome to the Facility.
You should have known better than to bite the hand that feeds you.
He was American, that much was obvious. And he was male. At least he sounded male. Roald shifted as silently as he could to bring his trembling knees to his chest. Listening was easy, it was something he could do. Listening was a hold on reality that as of these past few minutes he had none of. So, he shut his eyes to block as much of it out as he could. When his conversation partner stopped talking, Ro did the same with breathing. Thankfully, it was a brief pause before he resumed again. His breaths began to even slightly, despite being shaky and faint.
"No... I've never gotten inta any trouble. Jus'... I-I keep to m'self most o' the time... Certainly n-never... never committed any felonies..." He took as deep a breath as he was able, held it for three seconds, then blew it out. Something he'd learned over the years and tended to slip his mind. It did help. More than usual, actually. Made him even more lightheaded. "So're... you a gymnast? With the, th'stretchin' thing?" His voice remained soft, tentative.
Then a voice boomed overhead. Attacking cell walls. Ro's heart stopped, along with his thought process, as those panicked moments replayed in his head of trying to punch his way out. Punishment... A light whimper. It was addressed specifically to him.
"R-Roald... Roald Hartford..." he whispered.
"Well, like I said that makes two of us. But..." He paused, just for a second, and tried to think of a way to phrase his next statement. "No, I'm not exactly a gymnast. At all, I mean. I'm a biomedical sciences major, the stretching, it's something I recently acquired. They, uh... They captured me because of my elasticity. It's something... I shouldn't be able to do." A huff; enough beating around the bush already. "I'm paranormal. I can stretch my body in ways that it should be impossible to. That's why I'm in here, because I've got this goddamn thing to worry about on top of everything." He made sure to keep his voice from sounding too aggressive, but he was really quite aggravated regarding his newfound 'gift'. Couldn't he have at least graduated first?
The announcement came through, way too loud to miss. Attacking cell walls, huh? Yeah, whoever did that... Wait. But he had heard thumping from the room across. Was it... Him? Powerful guy when he's in a panic.
Roald Hartford, huh? Good, strong Scottish name, that's for sure. "Matthew Wilson. You can call me Matthew, or Matt, or Stretch, whichever you'd prefer."
That is, when he was in a rational situation, which this certainly wasn't. When panicked they would phone just to talk him down. The instances were rare, but tense on all accounts. This, by far, was the worst one yet, and he couldn't exactly contact anyone. Except that voice which he tried to press against. That voice with no face attached.
But what it said made no sense. Roald opened his eyes to slits in confusion. Something impossible? Wasn't this asylum impossible enough? It was likely a nightmare... a really very vivid nightmare, but the most logical solution. Paranormality, again, was something from one of his shoots. Sounded like something Vaughn would try to talk him into doing the screenplay and shooting for. He was all into comic book things.
Then something he said became glaringly apparent.
They captured me because of my elasticity.That's why I'm in here.
Another spike of panic. "B-But I cannae do that," Ro protested, hysteria beginning to creep back into his voice. "I'm j-just a regular bloke, my main worry was i-if I'd make th'bloody train on time! I'm not... elastic, or stretchy, or whatever tha hell! I'm-- I..." The man tapered off under a choked sound of anguish. None of this made any sense. At least, not until something regular came up. A name. He could do that. Matthew Wilson. He chose to ignore the nickname. Matt Wilson, Matthew Wilson, Wilson Matthew, Wilson Matt. He routed it to memory, shut his eyes again, and shivered his way further into a lanky ball of scrubs, skin, and hair against the cell wall.
- 66 posts here • Page 1 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
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View All » Add Character » 20 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Corso Asange Hart
The hand that feeds you.
Nova Swann
"I don't have a choice either."
Thomas Mullen
Who knows what the future holds?
Valen "The Shade" King
"Life is nothing but a futile spark, struggling against the darkness but ultimately doomed to failure. I represent the darkness that lies at the end of all. So how can you expect to stop me?"
Wayland "Brimstone" Smith
Captive, imprisoned, but watchful, and waiting.
SETTING
Setting of the story
Roald Hartford
A once regular man with a once promising future.
Matthew "Stretch" Wilson
An all-around good guy, if a little silly at times. He has a dark side, though, and when it awakens...
Trending
Corso Asange Hart
The hand that feeds you.
Nova Swann
"I don't have a choice either."
Wayland "Brimstone" Smith
Captive, imprisoned, but watchful, and waiting.
Roald Hartford
A once regular man with a once promising future.
SETTING
Setting of the story
Valen "The Shade" King
"Life is nothing but a futile spark, struggling against the darkness but ultimately doomed to failure. I represent the darkness that lies at the end of all. So how can you expect to stop me?"
Matthew "Stretch" Wilson
An all-around good guy, if a little silly at times. He has a dark side, though, and when it awakens...
Thomas Mullen
Who knows what the future holds?
Most Followed
Roald Hartford
A once regular man with a once promising future.
Corso Asange Hart
The hand that feeds you.
Nova Swann
"I don't have a choice either."
Wayland "Brimstone" Smith
Captive, imprisoned, but watchful, and waiting.
SETTING
Setting of the story
Valen "The Shade" King
"Life is nothing but a futile spark, struggling against the darkness but ultimately doomed to failure. I represent the darkness that lies at the end of all. So how can you expect to stop me?"
Matthew "Stretch" Wilson
An all-around good guy, if a little silly at times. He has a dark side, though, and when it awakens...
Thomas Mullen
Who knows what the future holds?
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