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Persephone Nyx

"Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now..."

0 · 579 views · located in Earth

a character in “Facility”, originally authored by ApocalypticGirl, as played by RolePlayGateway






Image Name: Persephone Desdemona Nyx

Aliases: Bella-Rosa Cabb

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Face Claim: Alexandria Deberry


Image Likes:
Being Alone
Children (when she could see them)

The Color Pink
Being Locked Up
Cold Weather

Strengths: When in weather over 85 degrees, she gains 3 times the amount of strength she had; and she is very smart, cunning, skilled.....

Weaknesses: She becomes faint and weak in snow and rain; and she grows rashes and hives when water touches her skin

Fears: Aquaphobia: Fear of water and oceans


Image Power: Persephone is a Pyrokinetic, causing her to be able to create or to control fire with her mind. She loves to play with fire, often trying to create it in her cell. She is deathly scared of water and swallowing it could rupture her internal organs. It does not do much damage to her skin, only causing slight rashes and small hives. To keep her from setting the room on fire, she must be contained in a room fully constructed of Gypsum Boards with Rockwool for insulation. Her bed must be made out of Flame Treated Wood and her clothing must be made out of Coated Nylon- all are flame retardant.

Personality: Persephone hates her life at the Facility, so she acts mean, tough, unapproachable. When she lived in the real world, she was a nice, caring person. But since she has been put there, she makes rude and sarcastic comments. She has been seen trying to light herself and her room on fire. She cannot stand other people and sometimes refuses to leave her room. She can be nice, like when she's tired or light-headed, but don't expect it.

Biography: Persephone grew up in a good household. Her mother raised her and her sister. They were happy and her mother was thrilled when she found out that Persephone had become a Pyrokenetic. Persephone was engaged and was a kindergarten teacher. She loved her life and her fiance, Derek. She was found out when she started a fire when she and her family- including her fiance, were camping. They chased her for 4 hours, capturing her in the end and bringing her to the Facility. She has been there for 3 years.

So begins...

Persephone Nyx's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Persephone Nyx Character Portrait: Cassandra Hall Character Portrait: Roald Hartford Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith Character Portrait: SETTING Character Portrait: Matthew "Stretch" Wilson Character Portrait: Zilla Levina
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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'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.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Persephone Nyx Character Portrait: Cassandra Hall Character Portrait: Roald Hartford Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith Character Portrait: Matthew "Stretch" Wilson Character Portrait: Zilla Levina
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Cassandra Hall
"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.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Persephone Nyx Character Portrait: Cassandra Hall Character Portrait: Roald Hartford Character Portrait: SETTING Character Portrait: Zilla Levina
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Persephone stared at her wall, wishing flames would appear. She couldn't stand it. Her mother had always told her she was special, and that she had a will to live. But now, being 'special' put her in a cell. She looked around her room and began muttering curses under her breath. When she had woken up, she aced all over. Now, she was just mad. Her food had arrived, but she has not touchen it. She had taken her sedative, but nothing else. She was careful of the floor.

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.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Persephone Nyx Character Portrait: Cassandra Hall Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith
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Two bangs drew his attention. His hall mates, he could only see the source of one though, the other he thought may have originated in cell fourteen, forty one. Cassandra he believed her name was. He was pretty sure she didn't like him much, didn't like the way he talked to the feeders, to the Doctors, didn't understand why he did it. Maybe they'd escape someday, maybe they'd get confronted by one of these people, and maybe, just maybe, that person hesitates. Hesitates long enough for him to rip out their throat. The thought made him want to grin, but he didn't. He didn't move, just kept eating, quickly finishing his meal and placing it on the table to be picked up later.

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.”


Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Persephone Nyx Character Portrait: Cassandra Hall Character Portrait: Roald Hartford Character Portrait: Thomas Mullen Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith Character Portrait: Valen "The Shade" King Character Portrait: SETTING Character Portrait: Matthew "Stretch" Wilson
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Valen King's torment is about to worsen. With the higher dose holding, the cameras click on to show the red, cracked skin of Valen in the sun. The image shows only due to shaded lenses. Between the intense sunlight and floodlight beneath (to ensure no shadow), it's somewhat difficult to see, but clear enough. The angle shown is one of his hips up, a focus in one corner of the screen being the masked and shaved head of the inmate. His wrists are shackled far above his head on the slim table, exposing tender sides, shivering from the giggles he's wracked with on occasion from between clenched teeth. For the first time in several hours of torment, a spritz of water is put into the mask, just so the others can see him struggle for it. The staff laugh and jeer from the sides, but their faces and voices don't carry to the cameras. They're centered on the maddening chuckles of the inmate. This plays in every cell, the audio over the loudspeakers.

A man comes into the room, midnight hair resembling his before it was shaved, wearing a surgical mask and one glove covered in slim tassels. He stands over the inmate for a moment before barely upping the dosage of happy gas. He then sets to work. The tassels on the glove are gently skimmed over Valen's sides, forcing his traumatized skin to ripple with the spasms of muscles underneath. At first, it's not much, but after so much pain with lack of touch, the tickles quickly increase in severity. They flicker over cracks in his flesh, spreading the sensation while he has no chance to defend himself from it. His desperate squirms are for naught except to cause the splits to set about bleeding and discharging pus in various areas over his body. The areas around the shackles are hit particularly hard, where he may have hope to press the tickles away (quickly crushed by the true lack of movement he's allowed). He has no choice but to writhe as the glove trails inch by maddening inch from hip to underarm.

All the while, the happy gas courses through his system. Chuckles before spread to insane laughter, cutting off oxygen and furthering his need to thrash about. He bleeds harder. He's defenseless. His sides, belly, inner legs, the bottoms of his feet are all tickled without mercy. Halfway through, he receives another spritz of blessed water. It will be impossible to catch with his distraction. His lips will be unable to close around it before it evaporates. A shame, seeing as how he just lost a load of the precious fluid onto the table. The scientist glances at the inmate's soaked through briefs and directs a camera to show the spreading puddle running down his shivering legs. He laughs something about a "filthy beast, unable to control his own bladder and happy to piss on himself" before continuing. Oxygen becomes a luxury. One he can't afford. It suddenly becomes very apparent how slim his chances are of survival for the next few minutes.

The laughter increases in its maddening severity as the inmate desperately bucks against his bonds. He can hardly move, and all it manages to do is cause him far further damage. Blood runs freely about his bonds, trickling down his sides and joints, about the mask on his face and the straps cutting into his traumatised skin. His scalp is hardly distinguishable as such from the burns streaking down it, same as his face. Tears and discharge mix with blood as Valen's scarred lips begin to pale under the sunburn beginning to blacken them. He's suffocating. The laughter is now far between, though his body still shows the signs of it. The brief moments he can laugh in are choked through with mirthful pleads for mercy. They're indistinguishable through his tightened jaw and the choking guffaws.

He fights harder, gripped with natural panic as he realises he's dying. The harder he struggles for air, the more of the gas he sucks in. Soon he makes no sound at all, though his lips are peeled back in a fierce grin. Dying, but overjoyed on top of terror. That sort of conflict would tear apart anyone's mind. Everything is tensed, bleeding, and raw. No more air is entering his system. The scientist notices the silence under the tears of amusement from the staff. Many are doubled over or patting others on the back. The inmate's skin twitches and quivers, overstimulated, and now without the oxygen needed. Hell, it needs more than usual with the excruciating torment it's been subjected to. With a hiss of irritation, he lowers the dose to where it was before. Were it not for the locks he would have cracked open the mask for a split second. Instead, he improvises. Taking off the glove, he gingerly soaks it through with the inmate's urine, walks around the table and presses it to Valen's face. It's still warm, and the acid only causes further bleeding, but after a few slaps to the eyes and scalp with it, breath begins to return. Disappointed that he can't logically continue, the man leaves. The cameras continue to roll, focused on the three liquids running down the inmate's face and his insane smile. One minute later, they click off.

Let this serve as a warning: Do not bite the hand that feeds you. 1926 is less than one day into its punishment. It has earned three. If it dies, it's its own fault for disobeying. We only want the best for you, but we will not hesitate to bring order to this environment. That being said...

Thomas Mullen's cell returns to normal light as the wailing fades away. He is given a small cup of extra food for good behaviour during this time.

Matthew Wilson's cell warms a few degrees.

Cassandra Hall's cell returns to full clarity in the front as if nothing happened. However, the front of her cell now displays her ID in large block letters.


Scruffy Tommings's cell increases in brightness by 50% with a 20% increase in sedatives.

Zilla Levina's cell is treated the same way.

... good behaviour is rewarded. Disobedience is punished.


The crane dropped off Wayland Smith's cell somewhere far different than expected. Instead of the transition station, the cube, now tinted on his side so that he may not see the entire facility or the route taken, is brought to a large room with a regular metal table with six chairs around it. The table is obviously not one for examinations. As soon as the inmate's room was set securely on the ground, the walls cleared to reveal the space. Several minutes passed before a door on the far side opened and a tall man wearing an immaculate suit entered. He had blond hair which was short everywhere but a strip just off the center. A curtain of it hung straight over one eye, rippling with each paced step of his Oxfords. His hands were clasped behind his back, gloved and firm. He was obviously very at ease.

Slowly, he made his way to the table and slid into a chair. His elbows rested on the table and his fingers folded before his lips. He sat there for nearly ten minutes, simply inspecting the inmate before him, before he finally spoke.

"What's your name, Thirteen-Thirty-Seven? Or do you remember it?" His voice was soft, soothing, almost like a tenor lullaby. His head tilted amiably, shifting the hair away from one bright blue eye. "Unless of course you'd rather I use that address."